Disclaimer: Don't own show.
Summary: Sort of an AU taking place after the Pharaoh defeats Thief Bakura, but instead of having to kill Bakura to defeat him, they seal his ka. Starts off with Thief Bakura being brought in front of the Pharaoh to hear his punishment.
"Bring forth the prisoner." His voice boomed over the other voices in the room, and everyone fell silent as the guards brought a man in chains up to the throne.
Clothed in nothing but a cheap fabric that shielded his groin and backside from view, the prisoner sat on his knees—not from humble submission, but because his weakened body could do nothing else. The past week in the palace prison zapped his remaining strength and willpower so thus he couldn't hold up his head to sneer at the man on the throne. He so wanted to sneer and rage against the man, wanted to tear him limb from limb and hear him beg for mercy, but he hadn't the strength.
"Bakura." The man on the throne spoke, his voice the only sound in the entire room. "You've tried to take over and destroy my kingdom, and committed terrible other crimes as well: thievery, murder. But you failed, just as all evil men do." The man on the throne narrowed his reddish eyes as he stared at the prisoner unable to conceal his anger. "Your evil has threatened not only my life but the lives of my people—you cared nothing of the innocent you slaughtered. Thus, I shall not show you mercy, even if you plead, for you didn't listen to your victims' pleads."
"…." Bakura felt his body tense at hearing that voice, and he dared to move his head slightly in order to look at his accuser despite the pain it caused. Do your worst, you bastard. His thoughts screamed, but, though he wanted to, he was too weak to speak the words. Instead, he glared at the Pharaoh with his gleaming violet eyes, angry at his white blond hair for impeding his view.
"Bakura, you heartlessly committed these crimes, so thus I pass this punishment—execution."
An agreeing uproar broke out at the last word—everyone in the room sided with the Pharaoh's decision; they hated the man self-titled the 'king of thieves,' and desired to see his swift execution. However….
"You're to be executed, by decapitation, publicly for your heinous crimes tomorrow, when the sun reaches its highest point."
Hearing those words, Bakura felt a cold chill run up his spine, and he closed his weary eyes as though to block out reality. He didn't want to die—who would want that?—but he didn't want to submit or plead either. What he desired didn't matter thought—he had lost, lost the most crucial battle of his life, and was now at his enemy's mercy.
His limbs were numb and ravaged by his battle with the Pharaoh, and by the torture he endured for a week, so he could do nothing. Maybe if his ba wasn't so dangerously low he'd be able to move and speak in defiance, but he couldn't move—and, what's more, his ka no longer resided in his soul—that wretch Pharaoh and his Priests had sealed Diabound away in a realm of shadows, in a realm he couldn't hope to reach in his current state.
All he could do as the guards brought him to a holding cell was think, but thoughts never succeeded in changing things on their own. He needed Diabound back, he needed help from someone—but all of his so-called followers had abandoned him at the moment of his defeat.
Feeling the guards push him into his cell, Bakura opened his eyes and realized that the chains that had bound his hands were gone though the shackles on his feet remained. Bogus, if I had the strength to move I could easily escape.
"Huh? A newbie?" Someone asked with a serene voice outside his cell, and he paused his thinking to listen to it.
"No, he's a transfer from the lower dungeons. The Pharaoh has just proclaimed his punishment." A guard's rough voice ruined his focus on the gentle one, and Bakura, disgusted, returned his attention to his thoughts.
Dressed in a plain white Egyptian robe, her red hair straight and shoulder length, the owner of the mysterious voice stared long at the imprisoned Bakura. Her sky blue eyes drunk in the prisoner's appearance as she half attentively listened to the guard—her eyes shining with pity and sadness.
"He'll be here only until midday tomorrow—he's to be publicly executed."
"Oh."
"Don't worry about feeding him; he doesn't need it where he's going." After that, the guard left, chuckling as he took sadistic pleasure in imagining the execution. After the guard closed the door and bolted it, the girl with red hair turned to look at the other jail cells—four of which were occupied.
Quietly she resumed her work, giving each prisoner a bowl of food and some water, unafraid of any of them as she greeted them by name.
"Could you give us more today? Madam Higure? I'm starved!" A prisoner in the farthest cell on the left hand side of the room asked as the woman gave him a bowl of food.
"I'm sorry, Mathuros, they haven't refilled the food storage for the dungeons yet—until it's refilled this is all that can be spared. Besides, we have an extra prisoner in this ward today."
"So what? You heard the guard—he's gettin' killed in a day, so's he doesn't need nothin'" The prisoner Mathuros said, chowing down his food quickly as though afraid it'd get taken away to feed the extra prisoner.
"Don't worry, Mathuros—food for the extra won't come out of your ration or any of the other prisoner's rations." She smiled and then walked to the front of the ward where the narrow hall opened up into a small room in which a wooden table and chair were.
On the wooden table sat a plate of food bigger than the prisoner's bowls, and a small tankard filled with clean, cool water.
Taking from the plate a pomegranate, she walked to the cell housing the newbie and knelt in front of it.
"You must be hungry; you can have this fruit if you like."
Upon hearing the serene voice speaking right outside his cell, Bakura looked up, no longer lost in thoughts, but not aware enough to realize he'd moved his head without feeling pain.
"Don't you want it?" Bakura heard the voice ask, but his eyes blurred when he tried to look at the owner's appearance—all he could see was the fruit held out in front of him.
Focused from hunger on the pomegranate, Bakura willed his body to move but his limbs remained by his sides, listless and weak. Oh, his stomach burned from hunger—he hadn't had anything to eat during the week he'd been in the lower dungeons—the torture center of the prison—and he wanted the fruit so badly he could almost taste it.
"Don't…oh." The voice gasped and the pomegranate disappeared from his view.
Ah, so they're still going to torture me, eh? And they call me the evil one…. Bakura growled in his thoughts, closing his eyes again so the sight of food wouldn't do him in.
However, within the next few moments he heard the cell door open and footsteps approach, swift and decisively. Then he felt something soft and sweet smelling brush against his lips, enticing his hunger.
Though tempted to take a bite of whatever touched his lips, he kept his lips tightly pursed, refusing to respond. His stomach growled and burned as he caught a whiff of the strong scent of the fruit—pomegranate and he fidgeted uncomfortably at the added discomfort.
"Are you not hungry?" The soft feminine voice asked, and he felt the fruit leave his lips.
Crazed by hunger and anger, Bakura lunged his head forward and sunk his teeth into the closest thing near him. Feeling the soft, white plum scented flesh give way to his teeth, Bakura opened his eyes to see what he'd bitten into.
A brilliant shade of bronze, Higure's hand remained clenched between his teeth, bleeding from the punctures of his incisors and, sneering, he lapped up the blood with his tongue.
Victory—he'd wounded one of his tormentors; it didn't matter that he'd be beaten, or tortured again for his action, he'd shown the beautiful wench that she couldn't torture him with impunity.
Audibly he chuckled and looked at her face, expecting to see a look of horror and disgust, but nothing, no look of pain of any king shone on her face or in her eyes. She wore a serene, blank look, as though bored by his actions; as though he was a child in her care and she was merely continuing to play a game she'd grown tired of.
"Are you done?" She asked, while the same question formed in her eyes. Such calm—he'd never been faced by someone so calm in his life, he'd never encountered someone who could look at him as though he was nothing but an insect—worth pity, but not respect.
He couldn't stand it, so he bit down harder, trying to entice a cry from those lips—but nothing. The woman didn't even flinch when his teeth cut her deeper, freeing more blood for him to taste; she only continued to stare into his violet eyes, unafraid and indifferent.
After a moment, the woman's eyes grew soft and her lips broke into a sad smile—Bakura could feel the aura of her emotion radiating from her body, but he couldn't figure what emotion.
He knew, however, that he'd been defeated, an instead of the woman flinching, he flinched when he felt her unblemished hand run through his knotted hair. His heart raced at the unexpected, foreign touch, and he shuddered involuntarily wanting to get away from something so unknown.
"Don't worry, I don't bite." The woman cooed, and then chuckled, while Bakura looked at the hand he still held in his mouth. Feeling foolish, he released his hold and backed against the wall, wondering what his punishment would be. Then he noticed for the first time that there were no guards in the room—only the woman, and the other prisoners in their cells.
"I won't hurt you, this isn't a torture ward." She said softly placing her hand on Bakura's cheek, smiling sadly when the thief shied away from the friendly touch. Sighing, she picked up the pomegranate from the cell floor and cleaned it with some water from the tankard. "Here, if you're hungry eat this, it'd be less noticeable than if I lost a finger or two." She chuckled at her joke and handed the pomegranate to the thief, holding it once again to his lips.
This time he bit into it without protest, his eyes closing as he felt the juice run down his parched throat. When he finished, he dared to look at the woman, his eyes asking a silent question, and, in response, the woman brought the tankard to his lips.
He felt his body strengthen as the pure liquid ran down his throat, revitalizing him—he'd been nearly as long without water as without food, and he wasted no drop of the precious fluid.
After every drop was gone, he closed his eyes, his stomach no longer hurting, and his head no longer pounding—finally relaxed enough to feel exhausted. Not weak—just tired-exhausted, as though he could fall asleep and never wake up. The thought relaxed him, to be able to finally escape to a realm of dreams, oblivious to pain or discomfort. If that was what death was like—he wouldn't mind it, it'd be the second best surcease he could achieve from his pain. First best being killing the Pharaoh and the Priests. But he guess he could settle for death—he could just leave it to the evil in the millennium items to seal the Pharaoh's fate. Justice would come one day—for his people, his family and himself.
"One day." Bakura mumbled as Higure draped a blanket-cloth over him picked up the empty tankard and walked out of the cell, making sure to relock it.
"What did you do to deserve such treatment?" Higure said softly before sitting down at the wooden table near the entrance of the ward.
Please help:MediaPlay's closing and I don't know of any other place nearby where I can buy my Manga. I'd really be thankful if any of you readers could tell me of other places to buy Manga.