Language

Where have all these people come from? Why are they wearing such strange clothes?

What are all these tall buildings? What is this hard surface under my feet? Why is everything made of metal?

Where am I? What am I doing here?

"Where are we?" I try to ask someone, but they just stare at me strangely and walk away. I overhear everyone's conversations, but do not understand them. It sounds like jumbled garbage to me. What language are they speaking?

"Help me! Where am I?" I shout. Everyone looks but no one answers.

"HELP ME!!" I scream. I'm confused; I don't know where I am, when I am. No one is listening to me.

Then, suddenly, a voice I understand.

"Why are you screaming, Bakura?"

I look up. No. The Pharaoh. Why is he here? Why is he wearing strange clothes like the others?

"Pharaoh! Get away – I don't need your help!" I try to walk away, but he moves in front of me. "Out of my way."

"No, Bakura, listen to me." He grabs my cloak sleeve with a solid grip. "I want to help you."

"How? Why now? Why not at Kul Elna?" I turn away to leave, although I don't know where I'm going. There are strange metal buildings and indecipherable people everywhere.

"That was 5,000 years ago."

I stop. A knot gets caught in my throat. Slowly, I turn around again to face him. He seems completely serious, but I can't trust the Pharaoh.

"What?" I prompt, reluctantly wanting him to explain. I hate having to rely on anyone – much less the Pharaoh – like this.

"We're in the future. Five-thousand years in the future, to be exact," he answers. I don't believe him. "We're in a place called 'America.'"

"You lie. This is a trick. You're trying to drive me insane." His expression doesn't budge.

"You are driving yourself insane," he argues, and unfortunately I'm starting to believe him. I need some help. I just wish it didn't have to be from the Pharaoh. I relax my glare and I'm about to reply when I hear my name being called.

"Bakura!" I whip my head around towards the source: several teenagers are coming our way fast. One of them – who is he? – looks like me. Same ruffled white hair, though longer. I feel like a part of me has been inside his head for a long time.

What is this? How do they know my name?

"Who are they?" I demand of the Pharaoh. Of course he's noticed them too. Even I have to admit his not that stupid.

"They are my friends. I thought you've seen them before."

On second thought, some of them do look familiar. Like I've dealt with them during my battle with the Pharaoh. Maybe.

"But who is the boy that looks like me?" I ask, trying to make it sound less curious than it really is. I point to the white-haired one and he looks surprised at it. I guess he sees my furrowed brow, too.

"That is Ryou Bakura." I can't tell whether he's just using my name or meaning that "Bakura" is the kid's last name as well as mine. "Zorc controlled him for a long time. It's a long story." I bet it is. I apparently missed all of it.

The group of kids has caught up by now. The boy says something in the foreign language to me. All I understand is my name. He looks very worried, and I wonder why. He tries to reach out to me, but I jerk back. He seems disappointed – sad, even.

"How does he know me?" I ask the Pharaoh. "I don't know him." The others look confused at our speech, like they don't understand. The boy keeps on repeating my name and strange words.

"Tell him that," he orders me. I don't like taking orders from him, but this seems like something I should do. "Repeat after me. This means 'I don't know you.'" He then says something in the strange language, slowly so I can hear it clearly. I turn to the boy who looks like me and repeat it; slowly and softly at first, then louder and harder. This disappointment and sadness grows stronger on his face.

I wish I knew how to fix it.

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"I don't know you. I don't know you! I don't know you!" the tomb robber says over and over with a strong accent to the confused Ryou Bakura. The others sympathize with his bewilderment, aware of why he is such a state.

"I guess we have a lot of explaining to do," Yugi comments, and the others nod in agreement.

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A/N: Okay, time for an explanation! At the suggestion of a friend/reader, I will actually explain the back-story to you, since I can't guarantee that I'm the only one who's made this interpretation. It deals with Millennium World: Volume 4, so spoilers!

Anyway, so in Millennium World: Volume 4 the Spirit of the Ring has entered Memory World and challenged Yugi and his friends to a life-or-death duel. At one point, he says straight-out: "I am Zorc!" Therefore, Spirit of the Ring is Zorc who is the Lord of Darkness, while Bakura is the Thief King. Two completely different people. (Although Bakura is, to some extent, under Zorc's influence in Memory World.) Thus, it was never actually Bakura who inhabited the Millennium Ring and controlled Ryou, although everyone – including Ryou – thinks it was, up until the point where they (presumably) make this same conclusion. Thus, Bakura doesn't know who Ryou is, while Ryou thinks he – the thief – is the same person who controlled him for so long.