A/N: ...I don't really like westerns. I have actually never watched a single western in my life. I have no clue where this idea came from, but it seemed like an okay idea, so I decided to give it a shot. But I can't promise anything.

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh and its characters are the property of Kazuki Takahashi. I know nothing except this story.


Five Years Ago...

Knock, knock, knock

"Could you get that, dear?" A woman called to her husband from the small kitchen of their ranch house.

"Who could it be at this hour?" The man started for the door. He paused before opening it. "Your mother isn't visiting again, is she?"

"No, I'm sure she's not. She would have sent us a letter or a telegram if she was."

"Well, you never know with that woman," the man muttered to himself. He opened the door and his expression morphed into one of shock. "What on earth?"

A young boy, only about eleven or twelve, stood leaning on the doorframe, clutching his arm. Blood was seeping from between his fingers. He seemed relieved that the door had been opened.

"Please - please...help," he said, legs buckling.

"What is it? Where are your parents?" The woman came out of the kitchen as the man asked these questions. She covered her mouth with both hands, horrified at the sight of the small boy in the doorway.

"B-bandits...they - they attacked my home...my parents...my sister...there was a fire - augh!" The boy cried out as he collapsed into the man's arms.

"Bandits? Those dirty, rotten..."

"Tristan!" the woman said. "This boy needs medical attention! Go and fetch the doctor!"

"But, Serenity, if there are bandits around - "

"I'll be fine. I'm more concerned about this child than myself. Take him into the spare bedroom, then you go fetch Doctor Mutou at once!"

The couple was so busy talking, they didn't notice the boy crack open one eye to watch them. They didn't notice the smirk that slowly made it's way onto his face. He had found the perfect targets.


"Ms. Serenity!" The boy ran happily into the small kitchen. "These are for you." He held out a small bundle of wildflowers that he had picked by the stables.

"Why, Bakura, they're lovely! Thank you so much!" Serenity smiled as she took the flowers. The boy was healing quite well. Doctor Solomon Mutou had bandaged the small wound on his arm and said that Bakura had most likely inhaled a bit of the smoke from the fire that killed his family and had been very frightened on top of that. This explained why the child had collapsed on the doorstep.

Bakura certainly showed no signs of collapsing now. He was a very healthy young boy and the fire had not done too much damage. He did occasionally wake up screaming from a nightmare, but it was to be expected from a child who had witnessed such traumatic events as Bakura. Tristan and Serenity would go and comfort the boy whenever these nightmares. They rather liked boy, and, seeing as they had no children of their own, liked to think of him as a son. They owned a horse ranch a few miles from a small village, so they enjoyed having the child around.

Tristan came into the house. He smiled at Bakura.

"Bakura, would you like to help me with the horses?" Bakura's face lit up.

"Oh, yes, please, Mr. Tristan!" Tristan laughed as the young boy followed him outside.

A brown horse came trotting over. He sniffed the top of Bakura's head and snorted.

"He likes you," Tristan said. "Would you like to ride him?"

"Can I?"

"Sure, let me get him saddled up."

A few minutes later, Bakura was sitting atop the horse, listening to the instructions Tristan was giving him.

"If you want to go faster, just nudge him in the sides. Don't go too fast, now, I don't want you falling off and hurting yourself."

"Yessir." Bakura flicked the reins and the horse started walking. Bakura gently kicked its sides and it moved up to a brisk trot. Bakura waited a few more moments before making the horse gallop, then run. The horse was fast, Bakura noted. Very fast. Serenity came out of the house.

"Dinner!" she called.

"Okay, come on back, Bakura!" Tristan called. Bakura tugged on the reins.

"Whoa," he said. The horse slowed and then stopped. Bakura slid off onto the ground. The horse whinnied and nudged him with its nose.

The horse was well-trained, and it seemed to like him. Excellent.

"That was some good riding, Bakura." Tristan ruffled the boy's hair affectionately.

"Thank you, Mr. Tristan." Bakura could hardly keep a grin of self-satisfaction off his face.

He had a horse.

He had their trust.

He just needed a few more days.


A few nights later, there was a horrible storm. Serenity was worried that the child would be frightened.

"Tristan, I'm going to check on Bakura," she said, getting out of bed. Her husband grunted in response.

Serenity walked to the spare bedroom, needing no light as she knew the way by heart. She slowly opened the door.

"Bakura?" she said softly. "Are you doing alright?" There was no response. Serenity stepped into the room. "Bakura?" There was a flash of lightning. In the split second that the room was lit up, she could see that, other than herself, the room was empty.

Bakura was not in his bed.

Now feeling very worried, Serenity went downstairs.

"Bakura?" There was a small noise from the kitchen. Serenity felt relieved. Bakura must have gone to get a snack. She walked into the kitchen. She froze. Bakura twisted his head around.

Bakura had one leg out the window. On his shoulder hung a small bag. When Bakura turned, a slight clink of metal could be heard and Serenity immediately knew what the bag held. Her eyes filled with tears. The two stared at each other for a few moments. Serenity heard footsteps behind her.

"Serenity, I thought I heard something. Is every..." Tristan trailed off, taking in the sight before him.

Quick as a rabbit, Bakura slipped out the window and took off running. Tristan grabbed his rifle and ran for the door with Serenity not far behind. Lightning flashed, illuminating the silhouette of Bakura sitting tall atop the brown horse, who was running furiously.

Tristan fired a shot and Serenity cried, "Tristan, don't! He's only a boy!"

"You saw what he did! We took him in, cared for him, and he robbed us! He might have been planning this the entire time he was here!" Tristan raised his voice. "Damn you, Bakura Touzoku! You no-good thief!"

And the legend of the outlaw Bakura Touzoku began.


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