The Ties That Bind Us

By:

Mystwalker

A/N: This idea's been bouncing around in my head for some time now. It's mostly a serious fic, however, I couldn't resist tossing in a bit of Marik and Bakura's Abridged personalities once in a while, so there'll be some humor too.

Reviews are appreciated!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh.

"I can give you this one kindness. I will send you back to the place you were meant to be."

The words enveloped her, seeming to have power and weight all on her own. They dragged her down with them, it seemed, into the stone and into the light. She stretched out her hands, her eyes wide in protest as she reached for him, screaming her disagreement with his plan to the void. But there was no use. Before she could even argue, he had sent her on, the last thing she saw a picture of him turning away from her and walking towards his terrible destiny.

To seal himself away forever for the safety of them all.

The light swallowed her words, and she fell, falling, falling, for what seemed like forever…

"Marik!"

Marik Ishtar glanced at the door, his eyes widening as he saw the look on his sister's face. Isis's eyes were wide and worried, one of her hands curling around the door frame for support. He was halfway out of his seat before he had even fully processed this, his hand closing around his Millennium Rod and the book he was studying left forgotten on the desk.

"It's the tomb," said Isis. "Something's happening."

She turned, hurrying back down the stairs. Marik followed her, rushing out the door and into the cool desert air. The town shone brilliantly to the east of them, pinpricks of bright light. Normally, the town and the stars would have been the only visible brightness at this time of night, besides the lights from the small house built next to the tomb. Normally, aside from the fact that the entrance to the tomb was shining brilliantly, white light pouring out and illuminating the space in front of it as if it were daytime.

Without thinking, he moved in front of Isis and opened the entrance. He had the Millennium Rod's protection, while she had never reclaimed her Necklace from Yugi. He stepped inside, feeling a moment's hesitation as he ran down the familiar passage towards his former home.

The light had gathered in the open space underneath the tomb. It shimmered brightly, coalescing into a form that was human in shape. Marik made the mistake of staring too intently at the shape. The light flared up brightly, and he squeezed his eyes shut, momentarily blinded.

He blinked as the light cleared, lowering the arm he had placed in front of his eyes. The light was completely gone now, the only light in the tomb coming from the moonlight that filtered in through the now open entrance. In the center of the room, kneeling on the ground in the same place the light had touched earlier, was a girl.

Her skin was slightly tanned by the sun, although it looked as though it had started out pale. Her hair was a shockingly white, the moonlight reflecting off of it and making it seem to shimmer. Her eyes were a bright green. She was dressed in clothes from Ancient Egypt, a simple white sheath dress, with a pale green sash tied around her waist. One of her arms was bandaged from wrist to elbow, a gold bracer hanging just over the bandage.

"Why…?" she muttered under her breath, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

The single word stopped him, because it wasn't in Arabic. It was in Egyptian. The same language that would have been spoken in the Pharaoh's time.

He took a deep breath.

"Who are you?" he asked in the same language.

Her eyes widened and she quickly turned in his direction, startled. He stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself to her. As he watched, her eyes moved in the direction of the Millennium Rod for a moment, before looking back at his face.

"…I am called Amani…" she said slowly. Her words had an odd lilt to them, as if it wasn't her native language. It wasn't his either, spoken anyway, but he had heard Bakura speak it once, and he knew what that sounded like.

The girl took a deep breath, rising to her feet. Her eyes passed over his form again, taking in his clothes, and something rose up in them. Marik frowned in confusion. Hope?

"…What year is it?"

It was an odd question, but he told her the answer anyway. Her eyes widened, and she began to look excited. And then something happened. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a moment, took another deep breath, and then spoke. Her words were halting, as if she hadn't used the language in a while, but the accent was almost unmistakable.

British.

"Do you…do you speak English?"

He was stunned, but not too stunned to reply. "Yes…" he said, watching her closely.

Footsteps sounded behind him. The girl's eyes immediately flickered towards them, but relaxed when she saw Isis coming down the stairs. Marik looked back at his sister for a moment, before turning towards the girl.

"I need help. I'm sorry," said the girl quickly, turning towards Marik. "But I don't know where I am. I need to find my brother."

"Your brother?" asked Marik, now starting to draw a connection in his mind. But it was impossible…wasn't it? Did he even have a sister?"

"Yes," said the girl, nodding. "He's in Japan, probably. Have you heard of Domino City?"

Marik frowned at the girl, changing the subject. "You said you were called Amani," he said. "What's your name? Really."

The girl hesitated only for a moment.

"…Amane," she said, quietly. "Amane Bakura."

XxXxX

Marik stared down at the book in front of him, trying to ignore the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and focus instead on his texts. But it was no use. He couldn't focus anymore, not after what had just happened. The girl had said little since Isis had brought her back, avoiding eye contact and not answering any questions. She had spoken exclusively in English, when she spoke at all. He tried to ignore the sound of Isis pacing back and forth in the kitchen, the phone in her hand.

The door to the bathroom opened, and the source of their current distress walked out, drying her hair with a towel. He glanced once at her, turning back to his books. She hung the towel up, shyly approaching him. He didn't look up, but he did move to the side a bit as he felt her weight settle onto the couch next to him.

"…So…" she said quietly, clasping her hands in front of her and staring at her fingers. "You…you know my brother?"

"We've met."

"How is he?"

"Fine," said Marik, "Last time I heard from him anyway." He thought about Bakura and decided not to bother Amane with it just yet. She would find out about it soon enough.

"That's good…" said Amane, quietly. "Um...it was really nice of your sister to lend me her clothes."

Marik turned towards Amane, his eyes moving over the familiar black pants and lavender shirt.

"Those are mine," he said flatly.

Her face flushed and she covered her with her hand, although for a moment he wasn't sure if it was because she was embarrassed or because she was hiding a snicker. "Oh…um…sorry…"

She settled down, and for a moment, Marik thought she was going to stay quiet, but then she spoke again. "…I…I'm sure he thinks I'm dead…" she said. "My brother, I mean…There was a traffic accident…maybe seven years ago. I was nine…"

He put down the book, knowing that he wasn't going to get any farther with the translation, and instead looked up at her. She met his eye for a moment before she looked away. "I wound up in Egypt somehow…" she said. "Back then…Pharoah Atem helped me a lot…I served him for a little while, and then he sent me back."

There was more to the story. He sensed it, but he didn't ask. Instead, he nodded. "I know him."

"You know him?" asked Amane, her eyes wide. "But he—."

"Sealed himself into the Millennium Puzzle," finished Marik, cutting her off. "I know. The Puzzle's been solved. The Pharaoh's been separated from his host. He has his own body now." He frowned, looking at Amane. She seemed relieved, for some reason, to hear what he had said. "…Your brother inherited the Millennium Ring," he continued. "He—."

Isis came out of the kitchen, interrupting him. She had the phone in her hand, a frown on her face. "It's for you," she said, handing it over to him. "It's Bakura."

Amane watched with interest as he held the phone up to his ear, turning his head away from her.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Marik, this better be good," growled Bakura impatiently. "It's three in the bloody morning."

Marik rolled his eyes. "Hello to you too, Fluffy," he said. "Wake your light. His sister's here."

"His sister's dead," said Bakura. "Now, if you have any other useless information for me, leave a message. I'm hanging up."

"Her name's Amane," said Marik. "And she's very much alive. So get Ryou, or I'll keep calling until you do."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Marik could almost picture Bakura's scowl. But he grunted in assent, and Marik let out a small sigh of relief, glancing over at Amane, who was watching him with curious eyes.

"Thief King Bakura," he said in explanation. "That's what I wanted to tell you. He can be difficult."

Amane surprised him. "I know," she said with a small smile. "I met him."

He didn't have time to ask her what he meant by that, because another voice came on the line, this one softer.

"Marik?"

Marik took a deep breath, then told him everything. In half an hour, they had managed to come up with a preliminary plan. Amane didn't have a passport on her, so she couldn't fly to Japan, but Ryou could come and get her.

"I'll talk to Kaiba in the morning…" said Ryou. "Maybe he can help."

In the background, Bakura mumbled something about threatening him until he did. Ryou ignored him.

"Tell…Tell Amane I'll be there for her soon."

Marik frowned, glancing over at the girl. "You want to talk to her?" he asked.

Ryou's voice sounded just barely hopeful, as if he was afraid to be let down. "If…if it's okay."

Marik nodded, handing the phone over to her. "It's your brother," he said.

She took the phone from him with hands that shook slightly, pressing it to her ear.

"O—Onii-chan?" she asked tentatively.

On the other end of the line, Ryou let out the breath he was holding. "Amane?" he asked.

"Yeah…" said Amane, turning away from Marik and curling her knees up under herself as she cradled the phone next to her ear. "It's me. It's been a while. I missed you."

"Yeah…it has…I…I missed you too."

"How are you, onii-chan?"

"I'm…" Ryou hesitated. "I'm fine, Amane. Everything's fine." The word 'now' went unspoken. "…Listen…it might take me a couple of days to get there, but no matter what, I will come for you, okay? I'm not going to leave you there. So, just…wait for me."

"It's alright, onii-chan," said Amane, smiling slightly. "Take your time. I won't leave." The word 'again' went unspoken as well.

"Alright…" said Ryou. "Good night. I'll see you soon."

"Good night, nii-chan."

The line went dead.

Marik watched as she hung up the phone, a slightly disappointed look on her face. She handed it back to him, and he put it on the end table, along with the book he was supposed to be translating. He frowned at her, staring at her for a moment. Her face was pale and drawn, and there were dark circles around her eyes, as though she hadn't had a good sleep in a while. Given the time period she said she had come from, he could see why. She toyed idly with the bandage still around her arm.

"Are you injured?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It's a scar," she said. "I got it from someone's Ka. I don't like the way it looks."

"What were you doing going up against Ka?"

"I was in the way," said Amane.

"Can I see?" asked Marik, gesturing at the cloth bandage.

Amane hesitated, but nodded once, unrolling it. Two red lines wound around her right arm from wrist to elbow. They looked almost like claw marks. He stared at them. A wound like this would have been a major problem in the ancient world. He was surprised she still retained use of her arm. At a nod from him, she began wrapping the arm up again, her hand moving almost mechanically as she wound the cloth around it. He wondered how old the scar was, and how often she had done the same thing to hide it.

A thought occurred to him.

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked.

"Three thousand years ago."

He scowled. "No, you silly girl. I meant—." Marik paused, realizing that her green eyes were glinting mischievously, and there was a sly smile on her face. She giggled and he rolled his eyes, turning away.

"Ha ha. Very amusing."

"Twelve hours."

He glanced over at her.

"I think it was twelve hours," she clarified. "Although I'm not sure. Towards the end, things started getting a little chaotic…"

He raised an eyebrow as she trailed off. He was fairly certain what time period she had experienced. If he was right, 'chaotic' was an understatement. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted.

"Right," said Marik. He glanced at the clock, and then got to his feet. "Then come on." He took her by the wrist before she could protest, and Amane let out a squeak of surprise as she was pulled to her feet. "Sister!" called Marik. "I'm taking Amane into town."

"Alright!" called Isis from upstairs. "Drive carefully!"

"You really don't have to…" Amane began.

Marik didn't respond, but he did nod, grabbing his motorcycle keys and helmet from the shelf near the door. The helmet, he passed wordlessly to Amane as the two of them walked out the door, heading towards the area where Marik's bike was parked. Considering the last time she had been on a moving vehicle, it was probably better safe than sorry. She glanced from the helmet in her hands to the bike, her eyes growing wider as Marik released her long enough to head over to the bike and start it up.

"Is this yours?" she asked.

"Of course," said Marik, swinging his leg over the bike and starting the engine. It came to life with a growl. "Put on the helmet and get on. We don't have all day."

Amane nodded eagerly, placing the helmet on her head. He felt her settle behind him, a little uncertainly.

"Hold on," he said, revving the engine. He glanced behind to make sure she had the helmet on, then took off. The bike flew down the dirt lane, heading towards the collection of lights that marked the town. Amane let out a surprised shout as the bike started moving, her arms flying around his waist. A few moments later, though, she relaxed, leaning back slightly and loosening her grip. As they entered the town, he was surprised to hear her laugh, her hold on him now just the barest touch.

He pulled the bike into a space, killing the engine and throwing down the stand. Amane slid off on one side of the bike, mindful of the hot engine. She pulled the helmet off her head with both hands and shook out her hair, a grin on her face.

"That was fun!" she said, handing the helmet back to him.

He glanced at her. "It scared your brother half to death, the one time I had to bring him somewhere," he said, taking the helmet from her and securing it to the bike.

Amane laughed and leaned back slightly, lacing her fingers behind her neck. "It would," she said. "I always thought it would be fun to ride one when I was little. But no one in my family had one." She looked around the town, her eyes wide as she took in the sights. "Oh, wow. It looks so different!"

"Of course it does," he said. "It's been three thousand years."

"No need to be rude," said Amane with a grin. It seemed like the bike ride and the excitement of seeing the town had helped her get over some of her shyness. He stared at her for a moment, wondering what he had done, and what sort of monster he'd unleashed.

"So…" said Amane. "Where are we going?"

He gave her a sidelong glance. "Have you had koshari?"

"No," said Amane, frowning. "What's that?"

"Come on," said Marik, walking down the street and motioning for her to follow. "I'll show you."

XxXxX

A/N: Amane's true personality is starting to come out, now that she's getting over the shock of being in the present time again. Next chapter will be a little funnier, and will have some Tragedyshipping in it (which is the pairing in this story…if you haven't realized yet.) And don't worry, I'll explain what Amane was doing in ancient Egypt and how she got there in due time. It's part of the mystery~

Note: Mystwalker needs continual feeding of reviews to function. Please review. Thank you.