Night.

Black night is covering with her veil the Black Land, Khemet and its people. With goddess Nut wearing her evening dress, the black one, decorated with million stars, people of Egypt were sleeping within their mud-made houses. Even this royal Palace was empty now, for most of people –maybe except some sleepy guards-, were sleeping in their beds, from the last servant till the High Priests.

There was a large moon in the sky. Round and shining like a liquid pool of silver, it was reflected against the Nile's calm black surface, creating the shaky, silver line that was getting wrinkled by the soft blow of the night breeze. Khons, the child-god had taken a handful of silver and had poured it delicately there, gift for Nun, the god of First Water, so he would say "hello" to his mother Muut for him…

The scenery was indeed magical and no real artist could perfectly capture it in his paintings no matter how hard he tried. Not even the wonderful murals inside the tombs of the ancient Pharaohs could actually be compared to this.

Nile's riverbanks were shimmering by the countless small fireflies that were twinkling rhythmically and playfully, trying to mimic the twinkle of the stars. The sacred silence around was broken only by the soft, lively sound of the life-giving river that kept its own, lazy travel within the serene of night along with the croaking of some frogs and toads somewhere hidden through the papyrus' petioles. It was as if this small, almost silent choir was trying to praise the Holy Circle of Life.

Night is followed by day, and goddess Nut gives birth to the Sun, to Ra, once more along with her red blood of childbirth to the end of horizon… And right after that night is to come again, as Khons wishes his father Amun-Ra goodnight and continues his trip in the skies over the Beloved Black Land…

Yes. It was night…a beautiful serene night…and everyone was asleep. Everyone? Not exactly…

Somewhere at the end of the river, there was the city. The small town with the small mud-built houses placed in order, forming a half-circle before the impressive building. Per-aa, the Palace where dwelled the King of Egypt, the Pharaoh, the god on Earth. Outside the enormous gate the two imposing sitting statues seemed like godly guardians that were stopping every intruder from polluting the sacred place with his presence.

Further inside there was the garden, surrounded by marble pillars all around. Even in there the Lotus Flowers, Nefertum's flowers and sign of rebirth were now floating to the central lake in the garden peacefully while the moon was perfectly reflected to the unperturbed surface of the lake down to exact detail as if it were a mirror. The night dewdrops were shimmering in moonlight like moonstones upon the leaves and petals that had the blue color of the sky above. As the serene of night made everything, even the slightest sough of the leaves, be heard louder than usual, it wouldn't be excessive to say that only a pair of footsteps was echoing in the endless stone corridors of this palace…

Yes. While Nature was sleeping, there was a restless soul somewhere in the palace. The pace of the footsteps was strong and determined and hasty but also stable and was trying to be as soundless as possible for a human being. Someone was using darkness to his favor… A man with white hair and violet eyes that seemed like a pair of sharp glass showered in moonlight, purple like gems and dangerous like daggers, they seemed almost capable of tearing flesh if they glared something for too long… There was a scar onto the right cheek, right below the eye and a bit above it. There was a tanned body; well shaped and strong with a pair of strong arms consisted by rigid muscle (formed after years and years of practice out in the desert). Continuing lower, there was a strong and firm torso, also covered in perfectly formed muscles, stone-hard abs and stomach. Even lower a pair of good, muscular legs was completing the body structure of the man walking alone in the night. His face had harmonic features; Sharp, almond-shaped eyes, thin nose, high cheekbones… Even the scar on his cheek seemed to be hugging his face softly. The man didn't seem more than twenty years old…perhaps twenty-five. He had nothing but a kilt to cover his nudity.

Bakura was walking with fast and steady steps into the empty hallways. However he felt like he was actually staggering. In his hand there was a knife. Its blade was glowing as moonlight was running onto it, giving it a sharp, silver glow. His tanned fingers were grasping its handle for dear life, as if he was holding his own soul like that. How he got that knife or how he even ended up in the Palace was a mystery even to him.

Bakura was widely known as the "King of Thieves". No one could stand a chance against him and there was nothing in the world he couldn't steal; The "King of Kings". However, maybe he got a little too drunk from his success. He had let his guard down perhaps, he had stolen a whole jug of wine and some good meat and bread and he had some small feast alone. The wine though did its job and the guards found him… They grabbed him and led him before the king. The Pharaoh! His archenemy. The one he hated. Pharaoh would then look down at him with his eyes showing anger, hatred and perhaps contempt. Bakura was feeling his blood boiling but with the handcuffs and chains around his wrists that kept his arms bound behind his back, could do nothing more but growl and curse as the guards carried him downstairs to the dungeons and shut the iron-bar-door behind them, placing him in a cage as if he were some kind of wild animal.

Bakura never felt such humiliation in his entire life and swore to everything he still believed to; to his hatred and anger, that he would pay back double that thing done to him! The Pharaoh had another reason to pay with his life for! He stayed in the dungeons for four days and the only alive people he could see were the guard that was guarding him (and those who came from time to time to change the shift) and the one who came to throw him some food; a loaf of musty bread, in other words, perhaps some piece of garlic and a jug of not-so-good beer. He needed strength, and so he ate it regardless the fact that every single move of this short they made, was adding yet another piece of coal in the fire of furiousness inside his soul. However this…stay into the dungeons allowed him to calculate the guards' moves…to learn their secrets.

The night of the fifth day of his incarceration, as he had expected, there was a guard, too tired to be paying much attention to his duties. Luck was by his side, as it seemed. The guard fell asleep close to his prison. Bakura passed his arm through the bars and with a sharp move he grabbed the guard's neck with the crook of his elbow, constantly clenching and pulling, pulling and clenching till the guard stopped resisting or moving. Whether he was dead or not, it didn't matter to the least to him. He got what he wanted; the keys from the guard. He unlocked his cell with it and he searched inside the guard's clothes to find something useful; a weapon that could be easily wielded and hidden and wouldn't be too heavy. The guard's knife.

He could have killed him, however Bakura didn't have the time to finish the job in the off chance the guard was still in the World of the Living. He had a…debt to pay up! He smirked. He was a man of his word after all… The Pharaoh had humiliated him. He had to pay!

So here he was now…walking like a thief in the night, crawling in the shadows with the moonlight glowing upon him like the lamp that was illuminating his way to vindication. The tragic ghosts of his past were screaming for vengeance inside his thirsty soul. Thirsty for the blood of the man who sent them to the Next World, the man who had the Blood of the Traitor inside him.

Yes…the son would pay for the crimes of the father!

Bakura had added yet another stone to that. He felt the touch of the moonlight on him. How much this night resembled him that night… The night the Pharaoh's army rushed within his village, Kul Elna and killed, no, slaughtered all its residents, from the oldest to the youngest. It was a calm night like this one. The moon was hanging above their heads and the serene was so relaxing that no one could even imagine what was about to happen. They came out of nowhere, dressed into moonlight and death. They came from the upper hills around the village and they killed, slaughtered… Bakura still remembered the sand beneath his feet, the sand of his land, being painted with blood so much that it had stopped absorbing it anymore.

The Pharaoh sent them…only to create the Millennium Items and show his power to the other countries. For that, ninety-nine people had to lose their lives… Bakura was nearly one of them. The Pharaoh had to pay, but now he escaped that by dying, his son, the one who carried his blood (the Traitor's Blood), his arrogance and his wishes should die. He should pay for the crimes of his father!

Bakura was surprised he hadn't encountered any guards on his way. He was walking without knowing his surroundings, but he was moving by instinct. The Pharaoh was supposed to be a god, the Son of Sun, so…he should be somewhere in the East part of the palace. Following the moon and the stars he was walking down the corridors towards the direction of East. He passed by a few doors till finally found the one he was looking for… He stepped through the threshold into a large room. The largest he had seen in his life. He was surprised to see, though, that it was really simple. It only had a large balcony, the stone walls were completely plain and there was only a daybed to one corner of the room and to the other, there was a small table with a jug of wine, a goblet and a bowl full with diverse fruit; bananas, pomegranates, grapes and others. And there, close to the balcony, was a large bed… Oh, his target! He walked soundlessly, his steps already being more careful than before, his hand clenching the handle of the knife in anticipation and his heart was hammering against his ribs in his chest. One step closer…and another and another… The calm breathing coming from the bed was telling him he had reached his goal…

The Pharaoh's bed…the Pharaoh himself…

He approached the bed and looked down. There was a man sleeping shirtless in it. The bed sheet was covering him up to his waist, revealing his naked, well-shaped torso. He didn't seem older than fifteen years old. His hair was unusual tri-colored and spiky in magenta, black and golden. His golden bangs were falling harmonically on his face as he lay there on his back with his arm close to his head. His features were harmonic and thin, proof that he belonged to the aristocratic caste. His thin nose and lighter skin proved a man that lived most of his life within the palace's walls. His lean yet muscular body was perfectly toned, without a doubt by the countless personal tutors he had for the several athletic activities he had (such as horse riding, fighting with sword or Kuta, the close combat fighting technique). His chest was covered in lean muscles and his skin seemed soft like silk, dressed in the moonlight. His body was also covered in golden jewelry.

Bakura gritted his teeth. This man was sleeping in a big bed, covered in linen clothes, wearing gold all over his body, having his food and wine close to his bed and countless servants and people to satisfy his every desire, while outside the walls there were people starving, there were people suffering in the desert and they were forced to earn their living by stealing… People like his fellow villagers and those people worth less than a grain of sand under his shoe to him! He raised the knife in the air with its blade pointing down at the young King. Moonlight ran smoothly all over the sharp blade.

The Thief King had pictured this moment in his head so many times. He wished the Pharaoh would suffer in his hands. He would bleed and scream in pain and agony like every single person in his village screamed, while the soldiers were killing them rather than die…peacefully in his sleep. However he knew that he wouldn't find such a golden chance ever again. It was now or never. He held the knife above his head with steady hand, ready to thrust it down and stab it through the Pharaoh's "royal" heart. But something…seemed to be stopping him… He looked down at the young King. Yes…he was too young…younger than him and he was handsome… He would be a liar to himself if he hadn't admitted that he was handsome. His high cheekbones, his well-toned muscled body, his handsome features on his face… Bakura caught himself staring down at him more time than he should be. He seemed so peaceful in his sleep… His eyes were closed smoothly, his chest was moving up and down rhythmically with his calm breathing…his lips were slightly open as he was breathing out…

The King of Thieves had to admit… The man was really beautiful. He was the head of Egypt…the most powerful man and still…this man was almost a child, younger than him and there he was now…sleeping peacefully completely ignorant to his presence, being to his mercy. Bakura gulped and licked his suddenly dry lips. So young and so beautiful… And still he was HIS son?! Why did he have to be HIS son?!

Suddenly Bakura saw where his thoughts were leading him. He cursed himself mentally. What was he doing? Drooling over his worst enemy?! However…this man… This man who was completely ignorant to his people's problems (like every nobleman, like every king) was also so self-sacrificing… He had seen him getting his lazy butt into the battle only because he was so close at killing his precious subjects. His hand that was still holding the knife above his head, the one that was so steady a few seconds ago, started to tremble slightly. Some unknown power was stopping him from killing him… Could it be he had started falling for hi-…

No! It was his doing! HIS! The Pharaoh was doing something with his powers to prevent assassins from attacking him! He didn't love him! He hated him and he had to kill him! For his dirty blood, for his arrogance for his…. The small voice in his head though was still saying it was pointless to deny it. The man was so beautiful… Bakura had caught himself dreaming about him all the time… What would it be like he wasn't the Pharaoh and he wasn't a Thief? What if they both were running free? He gritted his teeth and lowered the knife.

"Damn…" he cursed in a whisper through his teeth, "Dammit all!"

Suddenly the king's eyelids flattered softly. No! This was a catastrophe! What should he do?! He should kill him now before he wakes up! Too late. The young king slowly started to open his beautiful eyelids to reveal a pair of stunning levanter eyes that looked like liquid within the moonlight that was showering him… He blinked the sleep away from them and then his eyes widened in shock. The thief?! Out of his cell!? In his room?! He stood there for a brief second, frozen in his unpleasant –as it seemed- surprise. He was in his bed, almost completely exposed and there was the Thief King, holding a knife in his right hand and seemed ready to use it!

"Bakura!" he snapped at him with his deep voice full with hatred and surprise, "How did you get in here?! How did you…?"

The King's hand was searching something. Probably some knife he had hidden somewhere in the bed. Bakura knew he had to act fast or else the King would call the guards and perhaps they would kill him on the spot this time! He had to do something to stop him! Anything! The young King narrowed those elegant eyebrows of his and opened his mouth.

"Gua-!"

However his yell was stopped within his throat. The Thief King had stopped him from screaming with the only way that came to his panicking mind…

With his lips against the King's…

Atem's eyes were open wide in absolute astonishment, never expecting such thing! Thief Bakura was also surprised with himself. He could stab him now. He could stab him now he was taken by surprise. However he didn't do it. Instead, he kept his lips upon the Pharaoh's taking into his sweet and fresh taste. The Pharaoh's breath was fresh and clean. But what was he doing anyway?! Was he chewing peppermint leaves every day?! Perhaps he did. In any caste he tasted sweet like rich, well-aged wine and sweet honey…

Atem on the other hand was frozen. The Thief was kissing him! Kissing him! He should have pushed him away. Push him and then yell for the guards to come, or kill him himself. However something inside him… His eyes remained open wide for a couple of seconds and then…close slowly, as he was giving into the kiss without him even realizing it. The Thief King tasted bitterly, like a mixture of raw garlic and bad-quality beer. However Atem liked the taste. It tasted like…home. It tasted like his people; his people that lived outside the palace walls. Bakura felt the King responding. He was responding to his kiss! This took him aback. He wasn't expecting this. This could be his chance. He could leave now the fool was delirious! However something inside him was stopping him… Something inside him was telling him to continue. He presses his lips more firmly against Atem's lips and his tongue licked his bottom lip asking, no, demanding entrance. Atem was also taken aback by this kind of sign of domination. No one had ever dominated him before. Never! Therefore he gasped in surprise, giving the Thief King the access he wanted.

There was a flame set on right away. Bakura became more demanding as his tongue was fighting with Atem's for dominance. Atem let out yet another surprised gasp when he felt Bakura's hands on his body, removing his golden jewelry one by one and letting them fall to the floor with a small clatter. He tried to struggle off the Thief's grip, not for any other reason but because he hated being overpowered and stripped off like this. He had realized, some time now, that he liked the Thief. Yes. He liked those stiff, those strong muscles that covered his body. He loved those fierce eyes that looked as if made of sharp glass and that white hair of his. Hair so rare for Egypt for people of his age… He liked that strength of his… And that was the reason he had put him in jail inside the palace. With the crimes he had committed, Bakura should have been executed to the spot or sent to work to the mines of Nubia or something and have his nose and ears cut. However Atem couldn't bring himself to do it.

When they brought Bakura to him, he looked down at him as he was bound and captured and simply couldn't get him away from himself. He wanted him there. Atem had come to the resolution he liked men more than women. He didn't know since when that happened, however he was sure about it. He was attracted by men. Men's strength and men's beauty. Bakura had everything he ever admired in men. Strength, mental strength, beauty, stamina… Why him of all people though? Atem didn't know and wished he knew.

His thoughts were interrupted and he gasped again feeling Thief King pulling his kilt down with one swift move. Atem wanted to struggle but the Thief King grabbed his wrists in his strong grip, not allowing him to move. Atem, the Pharaoh and King of Two Lands was now naked, like the day he was born, completely exposed before his worst enemy and also his desperate desire… He saw Bakura licking his lips. Atem growled. This was not right. He should be in control! However all the things he wanted to say got drowned in his throat as the Thief King placed his lips upon his throat. Atem without wanting it felt his body shudder in euphoria and bliss. A soft sound between a moan and growl got released deep inside his throat as Bakura kept his open-mouthed, wet kisses upon his neck. He stopped at the pulse that was raging at the base of it and sucked it forcefully. Atem bit his lip to stop himself from moaning. No! He wouldn't give the Thief the satisfaction to see him moaning and shuddering. He was the King of Egypt, a God on Earth.

The Thief King was merciless though. His experienced and strong fingers were now moving on Atem's hard chest non-stop and adding the right pressure to the right places. Bakura couldn't get enough of him. His skin was so soft to touch. What in all hells of Duat was he doing? Smearing his body with oil every day?! Perhaps he did. He was a king after all. He had everything his heart desired so…it wouldn't be a surprise. In any case he was so soft…yet so firm and strong!

Atem gasped once more as he felt the wet muscle lower onto his nipples and then the firm lips upon it, sucking steadily. How could the Thief know he had a spot there? He was biting his lip at the point of drawing out blood now and his hands were immobilized to the bed but now Bakura sure felt there was no need for it now. Atem was now at his mercy. He let go of him to remove his kilt as well, revealing his entire body to the young king before returning back at kissing and licking and sometimes nipping his chest, now both naked and dressed in moonlight and Atem grabbed the sheets beneath him for dear life clenching them in his attempt of stopping himself and not show Bakura the unbelievable and surreal pleasure he was feeling. However to his own frustration, Bakura forced his hand to the area between the King's legs to figure out how much he "wasn't" enjoying his treatment. There was no need fighting back now. Atem clenched the bed sheets as hard as he could so his knuckles turned white, as if he hated them and he threw his head back moaning out in pleasure at the Thief's hands fondling the sensitive parts of his body and his lips to his chest.

"Ba…Bakura…"

The Thief growled in bliss feeling too impatient himself. It was as if he had been waiting for years to have this…

"Damn…" he hissed in anticipation

"Bakura…" Atem moaned. He had stopped struggling to re-gain control, lost in his pleasure, "Do it!" he was almost begging, "Do it now!"

Bakura hissed one more time at the King's request in combination with the soft sound of air blowing the see-through curtains and the slight creaking of the bed. He straightened himself up to his knees on the bed, grabbing the Pharaoh's hips. Atem raised his head from the bed to look at him with slightly worried eyes, but also with eyes full of lust. Suddenly the Thief King thrust forward and Atem gasped in pain.

"Bakura!" he moaned, "Don't stop now…don't you dare…!"

Bakura didn't have the slightest trace of will to stop either. The pushes kept on one by one with Bakura growling in bliss and Atem sighing and moaning as loud as he dared. He had grabbed Bakura's shoulders for dear life, kissing him with all his might, with the Thief responding with equal passion. Atem was surprised to feel how rough and hard Bakura's shoulders were. His body was slightly burnt by the merciless sun of desert and toughened up by the countless sacs and bags he would carry with all the golden jewelry he would've stolen from some royal tomb. He liked this. No, he loved this. He loved that hard and rough body just like Bakura loved his well-toned and yet soft body.

As both of the two strong bodies kept their sensual dance in the night, tangled with each other like a pair of two powerful Royal Cobras fighting for dominance under the burning sun, yes, just like that their "dance" resembled battle… It was an endless battle of both bodies and souls…

Atem moaned out in ecstasy and Bakura soon followed before remaining there, shuddering still for a few seconds and then collapsing onto him. They both lay there, shocked in sweat…not having the strength of leaving each other…

The sky had started turning from bluish black to a faint red color towards the East. It wouldn't be long till the sun was up again. Inside the royal bedchambers, Thief King Bakura was sitting on the bed with his arm over his knee and was gazing outside the window. Of course he was naked and only the bed sheet was covering his loins as he was in sitting position on the bed. He sighed deeply and looked next to him at the sleeping figure. Atem, the Pharaoh of Egypt was still asleep. His chest once more was moving up and down slowly and rhythmically with his calm breathing. Bakura could see in this faint hint of sunlight he looked even more gorgeous…even more beautiful…

His golden bangs were now gaining a slight glow inside the upcoming sun. Indeed. He looked like Son of Sun himself. Bakura sighed and a bit hesitatingly he held out his hand. He stopped in midway in hesitation before going all the way and placing that hand onto the Pharaoh's head, caressing his hair tenderly.

"The Pharaoh…" he thought, "You are his son…HIS son! Why must you be HIS son? Why must you, your soul and body, belong to that bastard that ordered the slaughter of my village? You are supposed to be my enemy…I am supposed to hate you. I do. I do hate you for what you are…for your blood I hate you…"

He gritted his teeth as he kept on caressing the tri-colored hair tenderly, almost lovingly.

"Yet, I ended up falling for you… They say that the line between Hatred and Love is thin…but I never expected this would happen to me… I thought my heart couldn't love anymore. I thought the only feeling I was supposed to feel was hate. However with you I re-lived this feeling…this strangely warm feeling I was not supposed to have. You've made me love you…"

He drew back his hand clenching his fist now.

"But this changes nothing. Your father was at fault and you must pay in his behalf. I will have my vengeance… This is the only thing I have left in this world. However… I can't help but think…"

He looked up at the sun coming slowly and peacefully as if made of liquid, red fire at the end of horizon out of the window.

"…How it would be…if you weren't HIS son…if you weren't the Pharaoh…and if I weren't the Thief… We could be Brothers you and I…running free in the desert…"

The morning sun soon came from the Land of the Dead, getting to the sky with his burning boat. The warm light passed over the entire Black Land and sneaked into every window. It soon reached the palace too…painting everything in gold after the silver moonlight.

Pharaoh Atem was sleeping in his bed peacefully, smiling in contentment. As the sun kissed his cheek his eyelids flattered open. His body hurt in a sweet soreness. He smiled softly.

"Hmm…" he hummed in sweet sleep-oblivion

He was feeling the fine linen sheet all over his naked body and it felt good. Incredible to be exact. The breeze was still enjoyably cool and not the burning wind that soon would be scorching human flesh. However something seemed wrong. He couldn't smell the unfamiliar yet blissful scent, close to him neither he could feel the body warmth next to him. He jolted up in a sitting position and saw why. The bed was empty. Bakura was gone in thin air!

"Bakura…?" he whispered

But no reply came. He had left in the night. He had deceived him! He felt the anger of his humiliation! He had kissed him! He had…sexually conquered him! And then he left! Tears were burning his eyes but he was holding them in.

"Guards!" he roared at the top of his lungs, "GUARDS!"

A pair of guards, following Shimon Muran (his Besir), Priest Seto (guardian of the Rod) and Priest Mahad (guardian of the Ring) rushed into his bedroom.

"My Pharaoh! What happened?!" Seto asked looking dead-worried

"What happened my King?" Mahad followed

Atem was shaking all over in his Herculean effort to keep his tears back.

"Bakura!" he managed to say in a voice that was shaking with rage and emotion, "Bakura! He was here!…Bakura was here…and now he left! HE LEFT!"

"Bakura?!" now Seto seemed genuinely shocked and dead worried

"Did he harm you?! Did he attack you?!" Mahad was also asking.

Atem was now constantly shaking his head negatively.

"Find him! Search the entire Red Land of desert! Empty the Nile dry if you have to! But find him! I want him here! FIND HIM!"

Tears were burning his eyes. Angry tears and tears of humiliation but he was heroically holding them back.

"Yes, sire!" Seto said, "You heard your Pharaoh, you idiots! Find the Thief! Spread to the entire kingdom! No body sleeps in this kingdom till the Thief is found!"

"YES SIRE!" The soldiers roared in union as they ran with him outside.

Meanwhile Mahad had found the courage to wrap his arm around the shaking shoulders of Atem's, trying desperately to comfort him… Now Atem felt the burning drops to the corner of his eyes so he had his eyes shut tight to prevent them from falling.

"Find him…!" he whispered again in shaking voice

And for the first time in his life he felt so alone… For the first time in his life he felt so much cold…

The sound of the horses' hoofs whipping the sand beneath indeed resembled the roar of the thunder that was announcing the storm. The strong horses that carried the soldiers and the voices of their commanders were echoing throughout the entire Egypt all over the Nile River. The soldiers were riding in the desert looking around while holding their spears or swords ready to strike.

"My King!" Seto said leading his white stallion close to Atem's and stopping it by giving its reins a strong pull, "My men have plowed the entire Red Land and still not a trace of Bakura's!"

Atem gave the reins a strong pull and his own pure-white stallion raised itself to its strong back legs letting out a loud neigh before going down again. Atem's levanter eyes were hard like stone.

"Keep going!" he said, "I don't care how long it takes me! I want him back! He must pay!"

Atem had his own sword to his belt, ready to be pulled and cut. And he seemed determined to use it any moment. He hardly got any sleep or food those weeks. It's been two weeks since that night and Atem has been searching personally along with his soldiers no matter how much the others were trying to convince him to stay back to the palace and rest.

Chasing after Bakura seemed to have become an obsession to him and he wouldn't listen to anyone. The days outside in the desert made his skin rougher to the shoulders. The countless hours on the horse covered his hips and the inside of his palms that were holding the reins, with rough skin. When he wasn't searching, he would remain in his room with barely some bread and a few goblets of wine, planning where to search next.

"My Pharaoh" Seto insisted, "You need rest. Please leave this villain to us and not dirty your hands with hi-…"

"I gave you clear orders, Seto!" Atem snapped at him with his eyes full of so much coldness and rage that Seto gasped in surprise, "You have no other duty but to obey! I want Bakura before me alive! You heard me? I believe I have the proper judgment to understand when I need rest and when I do not! Now, do what I ordered you without any more questions! Don't make me forget you're my cousin!"

Seto was speechless. He had seen his cousin's change, yes, but he had never seen him like this. He indeed seemed he had lost his mind. But he didn't say a word. He only bowed his head and said:

"Yes, my King…of course. Forgive me…"

Atem didn't answer. He simply turned his head forward again and hit his horse's ribs with his heel to make it move again.

"You have no idea…how much dirty I feel right now…" he thought, but said nothing

And so the troop continued searching close to the Nile…

Meanwhile from some high place, Thief King Bakura was lieing down behind a rock looking towards the sky. In his hand he was holding an, already, bitten raw garlic. With his arm behind his head like a pillow, he was gazing up towards the clear sky. He wasn't completely exposed anymore. He was dressed in a red, royal cape he had taken out of some royal tomb. Also a couple of golden jewelry was decorating his body. On top of that, a royal sword was hanging from his belt as well to complete his outfit. He took yet another bite of his garlic in deep thought. Two weeks. It's been more than two weeks since the day he and the Pharaoh…

He shook his head. It shouldn't have happened. He shouldn't have been carried away. He was feeling torn now. Also the other part of himself, the part of him that liked what happened, was also torn. One of those parts was laughing inside because he had managed to sexually harass the Pharaoh of Egypt, making him HIS servant even for a little while. Perhaps now he was somewhere in his palace crying and trying to treat his wounds…

However the other part was saying…that he did it because he wanted it too…because he…loved him… When he left that morning from the bead, sneaking out of the palace walls, he realized how much he…missed him already.

The sudden sound of people talking and horses walking and neighing made him raise himself and take a peek over his hiding position. He saw troops. Royal troops and on the head of them…there was no doubt. That spiky-haired person was…

"Hm! The Pharaoh's here!" he thought taking another bite, "Huh?!"

The last one came to his thoughts because a sudden change to the wind made him worry. The wind became strong all of the sudden, bringing a cloud of sand grains with it. The royal troops below seemed to be worried too as also the horses started being uneasy. Soon no one could see a few feet before him as the cloud of sand was now all around them. Sand was whipping their faces with no mercy.

"My King!" Seto yelled to be heard over the merciless howl of the wind, "It is a sandstorm coming and it seems strong! We must retreat immediately!"

Atem's eyes hardened and narrowed.

"No!" he declared stubbornly, "We will continue! We are close at finding him! No one stops! By Sun of the Wind and god of Seth who dwells within this Red Land! I will be damned if I stop now!"

But the wind, the god Sun, seemed furious that day. Soon the sandstorm became stronger. The horses were now panicked. Atem was trying to block the sand from his face using the edge of his cape, trying to hold his eyes barely open in slits. But his horse neighed scared.

"My King!" he barely heard Seto's worried yell.

His eyesight was completely blocked by the sandstorm and his ears were buzzing with the constant howling of the wind. Suddenly his horse neighed again raising itself to the back legs. His hands slipped and he fell with the back on the sand. For a moment he felt his breath being cut by the sudden impact. He was feeling like drowning…like being lost bit by bit…

And darkness took over him…

There was an endless area of sand. The red sand-hills everywhere where showing no sign of life around. Just like it should be Seth's territory. It was nothing more but the red, endless deadliness, with the sun above scorching human flesh and the winds be always ready to strike the innocent and naïve passing-by people.

Suddenly a small pile of sand moved. It moved again and…Pharaoh Atem emerged out of it taking a deep breath. The golden-colored sand was falling off his shoulders and hair like small waterfalls. Atem emerged out of the sand panting heavily, sucking the flaming-hot air greedily; finally getting oxygen to his lungs. He dusted off the sand from his head and eyes and took a look around. He was alone, alone into that endless emptiness. Not a single sight of the horses or the Royal Guards. Not a single sight of the Nile. It was as if the desert wind had taken him kilometers away. He struggled back to his feet to look around. Finally he found the edge of the cliff that led down the Nile. How on Earth had he end up there?! Was the wind THAT strong to put him up there? And his guards and cousin where were they? The light footsteps on the sand made him snap his body around to see who was walking towards him. His eyes opened wide when he saw who it was. He was away…perhaps fifty meters away. He was dressed in royal crimson robes, which were winnowing with the hot breeze, and golden jewelry. However there was no doubt; that pure-white hair, that scar on his right cheek, that tanned and well-toned body, those eyes at the color of gems… It was he. Flesh and blood… Bakura!

Atem's eyes narrowed angrily. He started walking as well towards the direction of the Thief.

"Bakura!" he hissed while walking, "Bakura go away!"

However his opponent didn't listen. On the contrary he kept on walking. His footsteps were slow and steady…a little small, perhaps, but steady and determined. Atem didn't stop either and drew his sword out of his belt while he kept on.

"Bakura, go away! I am holding a sword!"

Again no other reaction came from Bakura but his steady, non-stop walking. Sun was running over the blade in Atem's hand, causing a blinding light shimmering in the emptiness of the Red Land. It was thirsty. It was thirsty for blood. Atem's eyes felt sore, burning with tears at the corner of his eyes but the tears weren't visible at the surface yet. Only anger was visible to his narrowed eyes. It was an anger that seemed unable to be quenched or erased.

"Bakura! Go away!" Atem repeated this time more loudly, almost desperately, "Didn't you hear me?! Go away!"

Bakura was still walking. His eyes were constantly fastened upon the King's, steady and angry as well not desperate furious though. Unlike Atem, Bakura's eyes were filled with old anger, with an invisible wound in his soul over the years. Now only a dozen of meters separated them and the two opponents kept on walking like a pair of wolves ready to mangle each other. Now the sunlight ran on a second blade. It was a blade hanging from Bakura's belt too…

"Bakura!" now Atem yelled his lungs out, in a shaking voice, "Why aren't you leaving?! WHY!"

Bakura slowly and steadily drew his sword too. And the two opponents stopped. There was a distance of ten feet between them. Now they looked like a pair of lions ready to get into the fight over the same corpse.

"WHY!" Atem yelled again

Bakura's eyes narrowed and prepared himself for the strike. Atem drew a few rasping breaths and then got hold of his sword so tightly that his knuckles almost bled. He raised his sword too. They remained still. Only the sound of the wind was cutting the silence like a knife. Sunlight ran over the sharp blades. Suddenly both of them lounged forward with the vehemence of wild beasts. The swords clanged with each other. They pushed back again and then the clang was heard again as the blades kissed each other once more. There were pants, battle cries, clothes getting ripped by the sharp blades and the song of steel…

Atem was fast and skillful but he was also surprised how fast and skillful Bakura was too!

"You humiliated me!" Atem was yelling with all his might, while drops of sweat were glistering to his forehead, "You deceived me! I have never been so humiliated in my life! Damn you! DAMN YOU!"

The clanging of the swords was almost covering his voice and the two opponents were swinging around themselves to strike or stop their opponent's strike.

"It's all your fault!" Atem bellowed

"Humiliation you said? DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH!" Bakura yelled the last one as he attacked the Pharaoh again and Atem barely blocked it, "What do you know of humiliation?! What do you know of being helpless and overpowered?!"

The furious strikes kept on going.

"Have you ever seen your entire village being slaughtered before you eyes?! I HAVE! I have seen all the people I lived with my entire life being slaughtered! Murdered! Even raped! They spared no one! Not women! Not children! No one! WHAT IN ALL HELLS OF DUAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HUMILIATION!? HUH, PHARAOH?! TELL ME!"

Atem was shocked hearing all that. He had heard them coming from the Thief's mouth so many times, but actually hearing them now was making him feel constant stabs in his heart. The truth is that he couldn't even imagine witnessing something like that himself. However his pride was too great. He couldn't let go of the offence Bakura made on him!

"SHUT UP!" Atem yelled, "Shut your mouth!"

With yet another battle cry, Bakura attacked and Atem blocked it. Then Atem turned around and let out another cry of his own lounging his sword downwards to cut the Thief in the half. Bakura put his sword up vertically and stopped Atem's blade. The swords had formed a cross. Bakura hissed. He felt the impact of the swords' hit passing through his shoulders till down his waist. Atem was strong and furious he had to admit. He was using too much strength to hold the blades steady. But when he looked up he gasped.

Atem's cheeks were tearful!

Salty tears were overflowing from his eyes down his cheeks and around his tightened-teethed-mouth. Bakura was in a shock. He had never seen the Pharaoh crying. He himself had sworn to himself never to cry. It was a sign of weakness for the thieves. However then Bakura realized; Atem was like crying out of sorrow and out of anger at the same time but also it was like he was crying for both of them. Neither of the two truly wanted to do this. It was their hatred that was making them feel like they had crossed the line beyond return.

They both pulled back violently by pushing their opponent back and they took position around ten feet from each other. They were both panting heavily, shocked in sweat, with their bodies hurting all over by the constant fighting in the desert and their clothes had several tear-holes here and there by the strikes of the swords that had torn the fabric of their clothes. They got hold of their swords.

"Let's end this! Once and for all!" Bakura said grinning as a small slit on his bottom lip was still bleeding softly

"Agreed" Atem also said getting hold of his sword better

And with a horrible battle cry both lounged forward with all their furiousness and all their bottled up emotions. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

They ran…

Their arms holding the swords rose in the air almost at the same time…

The swords shimmered in the strong sunlight…

Their battle cries continued…

They ran…

And ran…

The swords positioned themselves backwards…ready to strike…

Feet were almost digging down the ground by the strength they had while running…

Swords lounged forward almost at the same time…

Atem's eyes met Bakura's…

Bakura's eyes met Atem's…

Swords thrust forward…

Atem's eyes widened and Bakura's eyes widened at the same time and the creepy sound of flesh being stabbed filled the air. The battle cries were stopped as if someone had cut the sound with a knife… Two bloody blades appeared to be sticking out of human bodies…

Atem and Bakura had stabbed each other at the same time through the stomach…!

Both of them coughed up in their attempt to take a breath, chocking in their own blood. Atem coughed out some blood and so did Bakura. It was almost the end…and they knew it…

"Bakura…k-kiss me! K-kiss me Bakura…" Atem breathed out rasping

Bakura was also struggling and kissed the Pharaoh on the lips with flaming and desperate passion. Atem's hands grabbed Bakura's cheeks for dear life and forced his lips up to the Thief's once more when Bakura's slipped as Bakura had his head leaned for a second.

"K-Kiss me!" Atem breathed out pleadingly and desperately again

Their lips connected once more… They tasted each other's blood. Their eyes were widened in pain and as death was close… Both of them felt their end, their strength being lost…

"Bakura..." Atem breathed out, "C-Call me...call me by my name..."

The name? The Pharaoh's name? It was something no one, not even the Besir was allowed to do but Bakura was sure he knew it now...

"A...At...e"

They both fell on their knees and…Atem fell backwards on the sand…Bakura leaned over him. Their hands connected… Sand painted red from their blood… And both of them…breathed out one last time…

Seto and the others arrived to the spot soon after only to witness the scene in horror. It was their King, their Pharaoh fallen to the ground stabbed and in a pool of his and the Thief's blood…and the thief was on top of him…and they were holding hands. There was no need for explanations… The soft breeze that started to blow peacefully powdered their bodies with the soft layer of golden sand… In the end it didn't matter if it was the Pharaoh, the top of society or a Grave Robber, the bottom of society. In the end…in the very end, in Death…they were both equals… Both were equals under the sleepless Eye of the Sun… They were heading to Duat together…

They say that the line between Love and Hate is as thin as a single hair… Oh, yes…it is… It is… And this time…it was true…

The Line between Love and Hatred was as thin as a hair…

…And red like Blood…

This is a one-shot for Rare-YuGiOh-couples Fanfiction-Contest in DA. The rare ship I chose is Casteshipping. The name comes from the word "caste" which is used mainly in India and it means "social place" or "social status".

The pairing took its name from that; The fact that Atem is the mighty Pharaoh, the top of Egyptian reality while Thief King Bakura is the thief and grave robber, the last, the bottom of Egyptian world.

The reason I chose it is a bit complicated. I really have no idea where this came from however I thought it was interesting touch. The fanfic was inspired by the Doujinshi "Ameth" by Medowsweet (DA) here art/Last-Resort-146209780

Also while I was walking home from university on 15th October at noon I remembered this picture art/Eye-for-an-eye-214531778 by BukaCieDopadnie (DA) and this is where the tragic ending came from!

Now for the part where Atem gives Bakura the chance to go and yells "Go away! I am holding a sword!" well...my Greek friends that read this and probably like good old movies, probably have seen that it is from the Greek movie "Stella" where the man tells the protagonist woman "Stella, fige! Kratao maheri!" which means "Stella leave I am holding a knife!"

So this is where the inspiration of that dialogue came from. I hope you liked the detail

As for the title, it came from the saying "The line between Love and Hatred is as thin as a hair" as I read somewhere so this is what I added for the story...that it is also red from their blood...
Also the ending with Bakura falling on top of Atem was kind of symbolic if you can see its meaning.

There are also some Egyptian names and places there. For example Egypt was called Khemet or Kemet which means Black Land because of the color of the mud after the overflow of the Nile.
Also the desert was called Red Land and it was said to be Seth's kingdom. Other names of gods are also mentioned as well as Duat which technically is Underworld

The idea of the sandstorm came to me when I remembered the opening song of the cartoon Papyrus perhaps the most original cartoon about Egypt! watch?v=oAgke_fzUeE

Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wish me luck;)