Deep below the surface of the Egyptian desert lays The Shrine of the Underword. No sunlight reached this musty dungeon which housed the ancient Millennium Stone. The Stone was shaped as that of an Egyptian priest with indentions for all seven Items to be placed. This monument was the final resting place of these golden artifacts, which shone on display all day, every day for only two pairs of eyes: maroon and bronze.
These pair of eyes belonged to two ancients, a king of an Egyptian empire and a king of lowly thieves. Bakura and Yami, recently known as Atem, had found themselves surprisingly tied to this room, their souls trapped here as they had been within the confines of the Items. With the defeat of Zorc Necrophades, Atem's final battle with Yugi and his departure to the afterlife, both Bakura and Atem had thought their attachments to the Living World were at an end.
If anything, this was a new intensity of Purgatory, a level 2 as it were. Their spirits were still fixed to their corresponding Items, but now they could move freely in the physical plane, only as far as the walls of this shrine. Almost four months had pasted since the final battle with Yugi, and both spirits were growing restless of this new arrangement.
Atem sat on the floor, musing over cards in his deck. He rebuilt his deck several times as it was all he could muster to pass the time. Without natural light, there would have been no means to see even centimeters from ones face. But there happened to be several stands of votive candles and Bakura had lit them, seeing as his shadow powers had allowed him to like the time he'd been in a church with Ryou.
The spirit of the Ring stood nearby, looking over the former Pharaoh's shoulder idly, glancing ever so often at the cards, then about the Shrine. He grimaced with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Bakura... why are you so glum all of a sudden?" Atem spoke softly. It had been days since he'd spoken, perhaps even more. Whatever concept of time the ancient spirit had built over the last years in Japan was waning fast. He began to judge time by how many times his cards had been rearranged…and even that number his old mind failed to remember. Atem shifted from a cross-legged position to legs flat against the stone, unsettled by the dark feeling from the other spirit.
Bakura growled at the question. As if the answer wasn't obvious, but Bakura hated stating obvious notions. "What is it to you, Pharaoh?" He spat, averting any eye contact he might make with the owner of the Millennium Puzzle.
Atem frowned, turning from his Duel Monsters cards to regard the thief with wary wine colored eyes. He regretted speaking in the first place, but decided he might as well say his piece. "We're stuck in this predicament ...for what may be a very long while. Is it bad of me to try and be friendly?"
One corner of Bakura's mouth twitched upward, expanding his grimace for a moment. "Only you would seek friendship in the likes of me..."
Seems this was the birth of an argument. Atem internally smiled, finally something new to pass the time, even if it might give him a headache. An elegant black eyebrow arched in confusion. "Why not? With a shared past like ours it only makes sense, does it not? We're stuck together now…why not be friends?"
The Thief King snorted with contempt for such an idea. "Don't make me laugh!" The albino bellowed, walking towards the Stone, glaring at each golden ware that met his eyes. "What we should be doing is figuring out why in creation we are again chained to these accursed things!" Lifting a shoe, he kicked at the Stone and the Millennium Scale, which he stood nearest. "Why did this backfire; why haven't we been released?!" His shadows seemed angry and released around him like an aura of energy, flickering and expanding against the walls and floors, almost exhausting the petite candle flames.
Atem exhaled with a defeated expression. His gaze wandered back to the stack of cards on the floor, remembering the last duel with his aibou. When the match was over he was to venture to the afterlife and finally be at peace. Yet somehow he and Bakura were spat back into the Living World and became prisoners yet again. "I…I don't know…" Atem answered finally.
Crossing both arms over his chest, the ancient thieving spirit grit his teeth with an audible 'ch'. There was no sense finding an answer to that question, at least not for now. They had tried time and time again, to no avail. "Pray tell why you're seeking friendship so suddenly." Bakura began, reinitiating Atem's previous request. "Like I said, only you would look for such menial things as friendship where no such thing lies."
The Pharaoh's chest huffed in a quick sigh as he stood, walking towards the other ancient. "Is that a problem? What's wrong with wanting to form new bonds?" There was little else to occupy their time…making conversation would help ease the burden if only for a short while.
Bakura's shadows finally receded, returning to their original role of following their master wherever he roamed. "Do you understand what it would mean to change our current standing?" Cold bronze met concerned maroon as both souls faced one another. "You are the hero and I am the villain. That will never change." The thief stood with feet spread and arms folded, which was his default stance.
"The world isn't black and white Bakura. You're no more evil then I am…You were possessed and had a vendetta you wanted settled. Was I not a villain to you; the child of the man that ruined your life?" He said with a frown marring his face with anger and worry.
The albino quirked an eyebrow in question. "Why are you trying to make me seem like some sort of 'good guy' in this scenario?"
"I'm not trying to do that. I'm simply saying that we were fighting for what we felt was right. There was no good or bad guy." Atem resituated his stance, straightening his spine to show that he was not backing down from this exchange.
One fair eyebrow lowered while the other remained arched, posing an unspoken question. "Believe what you will, Pharaoh," he stated with a dry tone, closing both eyes with a sigh.
The old Pharaoh made an odd motion with lips turning inwards as he stumbled for the right words to say. Suddenly sure of his next move, he reached forward and grabbed at the albino spirit's hand, grasping it firmly. "What I'm saying is I want us to start over." His eyes implored, hoping the bronze orbs were able to gauge his sincerity.
The tomb robber wore a shocked expression, eyes wide as tea saucers. There were no words or actions he could find as a correct means to reply to the other spirit. After a moment he choked out the word, "What?"
Deep reddish purple eyes searched the glacial depths as he offered up a smile that warmed his eyes. He flexed his grip on Bakura's hand, a way of confirming what he meant physically. "I want to start over; as friends."
For a moment, Bakura stared at the hand that held his own in a firm grasp. Squinting one eye smaller than the other he further emphasized his skepticism at the gesture and heaved a few snorts before erupting with laughter, releasing his hand from the grip of the other spirit.
The pale face of the Egyptian ruler contorted in shocked hurt as the hand quickly broke free from the darker spirit's.
"So now you're a comedian? How funny; that wasn't too bad, in fact. Ha!"
The stinging words baffled Atem; was he really so untrustworthy? "I'm no comedian." He said gruffly, fists clenched and carrying a slight tremor. "I mean it."
Brows furrowed in confusion. How was it possible that the Pharaoh, his sworn enemy for over 3,000 years would be not only extending the olive branch but a hand in friendship? Bakura shook his head twice; he couldn't be serious. "What is it you would gain for this? Is there some sort of wager placed on my answer? Or is it a prank? Tell me!" Hands fell to his sides, balled as he appeared ready for a physical confrontation.
Fury began to build to a slow simmer in the Game King's mind. He'd never had his own friends in this time period; everyone had been Yugi's friend, not his. They'd all become comrades because of his aibou's kind and caring heart. In all his time as a spirit the only friends he'd made for himself had been Mahado and Mana, who were now sealed away as shadow monsters. This had been his first attempt at forming a bond of his own since the times of his residency in Ancient Egypt, and his request had been swiftly shot down with a mocking laugh. "A wager? A prank?!" He snarled, hurt curling within his drying throat between each intake of breath. "There is none! You want to know my incentive at forming a bond with you, Bakura? I want to be your friend! That's all!" He hollered defiantly, his bunched shoulder sending the other spirit a smoldering expression of pain and rejection.
Bakura considering what had played out before his eyes. Atem, the Pharaoh, his enemy, seemed to be making a heartfelt request for friendship. The thief remained silent in thought, only offering a cold stare in reply. At best they were not enemies anymore...perhaps the spirit of the Ring had relinquished that status for their relationship. But they were indeed not friends, at least not mutually; try hard as the Puzzle's spirit might. "Do you honestly think that I would believe your words?" He allowed Atem to consider the question before continuing. "Trust…I have no use for such things. There is only strength and weakness, victors and losers, intellects and fools. And I am no fool, you see. I don't place faith in others but in myself. Relying on people is only a crutch..."
Atem processed Bakura's words before forming his own reply. "If you won't believe my words, then let me prove it to you, little by little. I'm not asking to become like brothers in a heartbeat. I'm asking you to give me a chance. You can watch my every movement and judge me thusly. I, at the very least, want you to know that you may do so with my full permission." His words were strained but heartfelt.
"Pharaoh you're an interesting one. Why does this mean so much to you?" He towered over the other spirit not only with stature but attitude, an air of malevolence surrounding his form. "Even if you are equipped for such relationships...what makes you think I am?" He saw question in the others face. "I am a psychotic king of mischief and thievery. I was feared by you and your court, your soldiers and towns people. What makes you think I long for friends and companionship as you do?"
Atem frowned, looking away for a moment. Why did he want this? Bakura made a point, why go from sworn enemies to friends? His need for kinship was out of desperation; thusly his words had been said on impulse. He looked towards the Tomb Robber and felt a prick of hope for companionship, someone to really understand what it had been like to be trapped for so long.
"I-" He faltered before looking back at the now slightly intrigued man who stood over him. "We share a common past."
Bakura considered the phrase and allowed the other to continue.
"In that sense we can understand one another…" The ancient king scoffed slightly in humor.
"I was never afraid of you per say, you were indeed fearsome, but I-" His brow became sever, twisting his face into a caricature of bafflement. "We never saw eye to eye, I'm sure we still won't, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to be a friend or comrade to you. I've been told to trust my gut instinct." He paused, looking back at the Thief King. "And my gut is telling me that this is what I want. There are no motives behind it other than simple companionship."
The owner of cynical brown iris' lowered his gaze, genuinely considering his fellow prisoner's words. He believed Atem, wholeheartedly in fact. In reality, there was no reason to doubt him. Having shared a soul with the innocent and simple Yugi, it wasn't hard to conceive that the squirt had rubbed off on the Egyptian king. Atem's name was synonymous with good and justice, and he was certainly far too trustworthy.
Bakura didn't need for such crutches. He had no friends, no family and no allies. The Tomb Robber possessed a list of enemies a mile long. But now, in this current predicament, he considered that Atem's name wasn't on this list any longer. Zorc Necrophades, however, was at the very top and probably underlined.
What was the Pharaoh to him? A fellow prisoner, another spirit confined by the Millennium Items, perhaps even a rival. At his core, Atem was a misguided king who knew not what the previous head had done to Kul Elna.
That day, so many years ago…Bakura had been stripped of all warmth since; family, friends, neighbors, completely wiped from the face of the Earth. From that day forward, he had been alone, and wanted for no one. Back in those days he might have accepted such honest requests for friendship. Bakura snorted, knowing he was lying to himself. He'd been trapped in a necropolis, calling out, pleading, crying and begging for anyone to come and save him from this nightmare. His weakened soul had been easy prey for Zorc, who proceeded to control him mercilessly for ages. He'd screamed, cried and begged for help then too, trapped in the cramped space of the Millennium Ring, forced to be a dark puppet. But no one came; no one came to his aid. Instead he was feared and cast as the main villain in the Pharaoh's story.
Since Bakura could remember, he'd given up, knowing he would always be alone. He shrugged once at his memories of the past and replied. "You don't seem to get it, Pharaoh. I do not want to be friends with anyone." His reply ended with arms crossing over his chest, his stance set to default.
A low growl worked it' way free from the petite pharaoh lips. He'd been trying to act civil and calm, hoping to guide Bakura to the reasoning behind his request but it was only met with vitriol. "You utter fool..." He whispered harshly, shoulders shaking in silent fury. "Have you learned nothing from what has happened between us?" His voice slowly began gathering strength, growing louder with each word.
"You lost because you were alone." Atem continued. "It's the only reason that you were defeated. You relied upon no one but your own strength and even that wasn't enough." He boomed stepping forward into the other spirits space, his eyes thunderous, shadows darkening his iris' to a deep garnet. "You saw how I was empowered when Yugi returned to me. I became strong because I had friends with me." He paused a moment to take in a breath and began again. "Don't you dare believe that friendship is for the weak and worthless…you don't know the first thing about strength! If anything one is weakest when alone; you can break one stick by itself easily, put more together and it is increasingly difficult. That is what friendship is like." He snarled out the last part like a threat. His shadows flickered, rage evident as they curled and flickered, summoned unexpectedly by their master.
The tomb robber sneered, exposing his canines as though he were a defensive animal. He could feel his blood reach a boiling point and grabbed the pharaoh by his collar. "What would you know of it?! How much have you suffered...being stuck in the puzzle and not knowing your name? Feh, such a travesty!"
Garnet eyes widened whist the Ring's spirit spoke.
"I don't need anyone, that's what you're not getting. I've always..." Bakura paused, a lump forming in his throat and he swallowed hard. I've always been alone, his mind supplied. Speaking such truths aloud felt different than when he mulled them over internally.
He swallowed once more and released the Atem's collar. "It's none of your concern..." He trailed off with a quiet, defeated tone, wrestling with what feelings had bubbles to the surface. Perhaps being possessed by Zorc had suppressed his human heart and now...he felt completely defenseless. How pathetic, he thought.
Atem felt a shiver run through his body, reminded of the long era he'd spent in the shadows. For 3,000 years he'd floated in and out of consciousness, not knowing where he was or who he'd been. All he felt was a crushing loneliness that ate at his very soul, driving him mad. He wanted to roar at the thief, who presumed that he had been better off, yet as Bakura uttered his last sentence, the Pharaoh stopped considered the altered situation. The albino appeared forlorn, resigned to the fact that he had been alone. Tentatively he reached towards the Tomb Robber. "What if I want it to be? I want to help."
"Get away from me!" Bakura snarled, his own shadows surrounding him like a barrier to keep the other soul from advancing. They reverted to cast shadows once the threat had been neutralized; Atem stood his ground, allowing Bakura to have his outburst. "How dare you act as my confidant, you pampered pharaoh! Ha, not much of a pharaoh even. You were more of a spoiled prince! Your reign was short!"
The thief sneered, "I want nothing to do with you and your misguided notions!" He huffed, attempting to clear his mind's eye of the past, but it was too late. It was as if Bakura had opened the proverbial flood gates of his memories. One nudge and everything, even moments he'd thought were long forgotten, came pouring in, flashing across his mentality. Subconsciously his fingers cloaked his lidded orbs, attempting vainly to forget. Why now? Why after 3,000 years would he remember such events? Bakura's breath hitched a moment and he sat on his knees, snaking his free arm around his abdomen to ground his shaky equilibrium.
A frown etched itself deeply into the former pharaoh's face as he stepped forward. Bakura's words stung; it was true, he'd barely ruled as pharaoh and had done even less for his people. Instead he'd sealed himself and the games away, passing the duty onto others. "I know I failed as a ruler…you're correct in that. Even so, I have learned so many things from this time period." Most importantly were lessons about companionship and trust. He knew Bakura had never known such luxuries, even if he had they'd been short lived as he was only a child when the destruction of Kul Elna had occurred.
The only thing Atem could offer was himself, someone to listen and help. The Pharaoh knelt, swiftly wrapping his arms around the other, tugging him towards his smaller frame. "I ask you to let me prove myself... now, we're all we have," he whispered tightening his embrace.
Bakura didn't know what to do. His fighting spirit was lost, pushed aside by his inner pain resurfacing from millennia past. He felt those slender arms encompass his form and somehow felt better. What a joke...his enemy attempting to comfort him. It was a sad, pitiful joke at best.
Once he relaxed into those arms, the pain began to lessen more; perhaps only a fraction, but enough that he could breathe easier. For now, he wouldn't lash out and attack the pharaoh and instead silently thanked him for the embrace. Maybe later, when Bakura felt like his old self, he would yell and lash out. Maybe later...
