Disclaimer: Good God has it been a while. I've been so unbelievably busy lately, it's just… saddening. This is the beginning to a story that's been trapped in the recesses of my mind for a while. Right now it's kind of muddled, but I promise it'll get better. I'm trying to work on describing things better, and making longer chapters. If you've read any of my stuff, you know I suck at making long chapters. Anywho, this story is about Bakura and Malik, along with Ishtar and Yami, who is also being called Atemu. If you've seen the last few episodes of YGO, you'll know that Yami's name is really Atemu. I just found that out thanks to Fun times. So yeah, there's some yaoi-flavoring in here… but not much. Definitely not a lemon….not even lime. No citrus here, methinks. So, I'll shut up now and let you read the story.

Oh, and I don't own any of the characters. Yadda yadda.

Chapter One

The sun rose high across the sky before most of the city was awake. Slowly people filled the marketplace, looking for that mornings' meal or something to give to a husband working this day in the palace. Hushed voices flowed in the air whispering of a king long since gone, though physically he was still alive. The golden bricks that surfaced the buildings shone in the bright light of the Egyptian sun. The soft dirt of the street crunched beneath the quick pace of the shoppers. The morning drove on without disruption, and it seemed to the people of Cairo that life would be alright today.

A pair of bright brown eyes peered around the corner of the marketplace's outermost building. They searched slowly and surely, looking for an unsuspecting victim. Soon, one was found. The body attached to the brown eyes leaked its way out from behind the wall and sufficiently hid itself again behind the throngs of people crowding the market. The small boy smiled to himself as he hid behind a man leading a camel through the streets. Always his target was watched. The camel-man moved off to the left, and the boy took advantage of his timing. He slipped to the right and ended up behind his target. Smiling again, he reached beneath the man's robe and left holding a purse full of coins. A small girl turned from her mother's bargaining and watched the boy's short, flowing white hair as he walked away.

Bakura laughed slightly as he stepped into his small brick home. It was less of a home and more of a hideout for the thief, but he liked it all the same. The purse was tossed idly aside and he sank down into the cushions of his bed. All around him the walls were painted as the Pharaohs tomb would be. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked over these pictures adorning the walls of his room. He had painted these walls. Each and every stroke of his brush was laid out with care and consideration. Much of the same was being done within the Pharaoh's tomb. Bakura painstakingly painted the murals of the festivals and the feasts, of the Pharaoh's greatest achievements, and inside of him Bakura hated himself for being forced into this meaningless task.

His eyes closed as he thought about what used to be his family. His mother used to sing to him before she would set him down to sleep. His father used to tell stories about being in the fields and about his own father. Bakura's sister would cling to him when the armies would march by their home. Their little town was usually betrodden with the kingdom's armies. And rightfully so if you asked the Pharaoh's advisors. Many a thief took up living in Bakura's little town. Maybe it was because of this, but the pharaoh decided it would be great fun to destroy this town. It would be fun to destroy Bakura's family. It would be fun to get revenge on the Pharaoh.

But it looked now like he was about to bite the big one. The thief grinned and stood from his pillows. It was fruitless to paint these murals. It was pointless to plot revenge on one already set to die. But the next in line… he knew not what it was like to lose family in such a manner. And so he would learn what it meant to suffer. Bakura decided long ago he didn't care how his revenge was met, just as long as it was. The new pharaoh was going to be young. Much younger than Bakura. But that suited him just fine. Revenge was revenge, and that's all that mattered.

Bakura's thoughts were shattered when another body clambered its way into the room. The slightly taller Egyptian boy slumped ungracefully into the pillows beside Bakura. The blond haired boy laughed and wrapped his arms around the other. Bakura sighed and reluctantly hugged him back.

"I missed you today." Malik grinned.

"You did?" Bakura idly fingered the fringe of his pillow.

"I did. It was so lonely out there. You wouldn't even believe how boring Bakura. I mean there's absolutely nothing at all to do."

"Besides to do your job, I suppose." He mused.

"Why would I do that?" Malik sighed and nuzzled down to fall asleep. "My job is boring."

"Boring." He mused again. He felt like musing.

"Yes." Malik sat up, suddenly energized and grabbed Bakura by the arm. "It's time to go out! There's going to be a procession this afternoon." The grin creeping across Malik's tanned face did not startle or amuse Bakura. He'd seen that look before, and the thought of what followed it was not appealing to the young thief.

End of Chapter One.

Thanks for reading, and now please review. It's been such a long time since I've written fanficiton. I need some input. 3 All reviews are much appreciated.