In and Out of Focus

by Harbinger Loki

Six years since the sennen items were swallowed by the earth and with everything in her life going regular enough, Anzu Mazaki didn't think she would ever run into another sennen item, let alone the Thief King. This time though, the Thief King is different. Listless and with no purpose, Bakura and Anzu come to a middle ground where everything goes in and out of focus.

1. Susurrus

In and Out of Focus

Part I: Susurrus

LLLLL

"Your reflection is a blur

Out of focus

But in confusion

The frames are suddenly burnt

And in the end of a roll of illusion

A ghost waiting its turn

Now I can see right through

It's a warning that nobody heard

It will teach you to love what you're afraid of,"

-Jack Johnson, "Hope"

LLLLL

In the end, darkness had consumed him under the earth. In the end of all the card duels, the end of all the going back and forth between Pharaoh and Thief King, there was a nothingness left to the one who lost against Atem. Those who had seen the temple crash, who had been there for the duel of Atem and Bakura as well, did not ever think that Bakura, Thief King of Egypt, would be back, especially since all the sennen items had fallen down into a chasm no one think had a bottom to it.

No one had thought to put a sign up to say 'No Spelunking' though.

LLLLL

It was strange to awaken to the nothing that he was in. If Bakura really thought about it, he was aware of himself but knew that he was different, very different from before he was trapped here, wherever here was. He wasn't as angry as he once was, filled with the intense desire to kill and destroy and to take. He was also supposed to be in whatever destructive tormented afterlife that sinners were supposed to be in, but there were quite a number of things he didn't really want to think about. In fact, being denied the afterlife into his current state of being only made him frustrated and being frustrated only amounted to being able to do nothing about it.

He just was. He was in the void, empty of anything but him.

The Thief King supposed being stuck in the darkness should be normal to him. He was asleep for almost three thousand years, but during that time he had awakened only briefly in those who had managed to get their fingers on his sennen ring, and even then Shadi had usually managed to get the sennen ring back fairly quickly.

Maybe this was the afterlife, nothing more than the dark depths of blackest pitch around him. No body to hold him and only his mind left to wander. He could think, he sometimes felt like he was breathing but he knew it was only his spirit. He had tried to use his powers to send himself through the shadows but it seemed that ability had disappeared from him as did many others.

Perhaps he was dead, truly for once. He grasped once more with his mind throughout the empty void, but there was nothing. No power, no essence of something else. He was alone, stuck without the power of Zorc or the power of the sennen ring that he had once been able to use like second thought.

Somehow, innately knowing there was no way he knew how to fight the long amount of loneliness and emptiness around him just yet, Bakura was slowly accepting the fact that perhaps he was dead, perhaps this was all that was left in the farce that he called life.

For the first time, he accepted something he didn't know how to change.

LLLLL

"Wow! I can't believe it! Look at this, Terra! I bet we could sell it for a whole bunch of money." The voices were under water, bubbling and incoherent at first. He sensed there was someone there, a presence. Two, in fact. Bakura could feel hope slowly rise inside of him, but hope for what? He had no way of knowing what was going to happen, nor if the ring was being picked out from wherever it was that it had landed.

"Is it the only thing down here?" He was pulled, completely out of nowhere, disorientated and confused for a second as he could see other people. There was a girl holding the sennen ring in her grasp, idly tracing the hieroglyphs on the golden item. The person beside her, holding some sort of machine in his hand nodded to her. Terra, Bakura could guess, was the woman and despite her holding the sennen ring, the ring spirit knew he didn't want her to see him.

"Yeah, I can't find any others like it. The detector's not going off." The man, bent over the machine in his hand, frowns, aiming the device around the area. There is water every where and dirt. Bakura doesn't know how long it's been. It feels like the cobwebs are clearing from his once-quiet mind, albeit slowly.

"Maybe it's fake." Bakura felt slightly affronted at that assumption. The ring and the other sennen items were all made from the souls of his village. He watched the two with suspicion. Was there a reason they had come to find the sennen ring? Were they just exploring or being deliberate?

"Nah, I think it's real and if not, we can still sell it for a lot. I'm betting you there's some nut that would want this." Bakura frowned. Despite the immense feeling of lethargy still plaguing him, he did not want to be sold off with the ring like a common household appliance. The two people shrugged before jumping back into the water with their equipment. Bakura did not linger long, disappearing back into nothing just as quickly as he was pulled into his phantom existence.

LLLLL

"I think you have the wrong phone number." A slammed receiver nearly fell off it's hook as Anzu Mazaki took calming breaths from her pink-cheeked face. The brunette heaved a sigh as soon as she felt fully calm from the infuriating phone call she had answered.

"Another one?" A sultry voice piped out from behind the brunette. With a soft apology on her lips, the brunette turned from her wall phone to the bar by her kitchen. If anyone asked so many years ago when she had first met Mai, the blonde duelist sitting at her bar, on whether or not they would wind up being such good friends, Anzu would have laughed at the person asking. She couldn't say the same if they meant now. Mai Katsuya was one of the only women that Anzu was friends with outside of her profession as a dancer. She was frank, honest when it came down to things, and particularly strong-willed enough to be a good contestant against Anzu's stubbornness.

"Yeah. I mean, I know Yugi and all, but this amount of paparazzi? It's silly. I'm just a friend of his." Mai snorted, drinking some of her strawberry-orange water that was a cleanser for the newest diet she was on. Anzu mused on the phone call, appreciative of Mai listening to her. This had been one of many from people who had found out her privately listed phone number and all of them asking the same thing. All of them asking if Anzu was his wife or mistress.

"Oh, they're just trying to create scandal on him, Anzu. Don't mind it too much." Anzu knew Mai's words were the truth. Yugi certainly did not help things either. Sometimes, when her best friend was asked about anyone special in his life in his after-game interviews, he had mentioned Anzu and his girlfriend, Rebecca Hopkins. The rumor-mill of the gaming world went off with possibilities at the first mention, but now it seemed Anzu typically received them more and more on his national gaming tours versus the international ones.

"Mai, I wish I had your grace dealing with things like this." The blonde only shook her head as Anzu went back into the kitchen to finish up on the soup that was boiling on the stove top that she had been interrupted from. Mai smiled as she watched her friend before speaking in her sultry voice.

"I've been a good duelist for some part of my life. Being able to slide the spotlight off of me when I need to was something I learned a long while ago." DING! Anzu grumbled, grabbing a potholder and pulling down the oven door to see whether or not her biscuits had fully risen. They hadn't.

"What about Shizuka and Jonouchi?" She placed the pot holder on the counter before glancing up at the watchful blonde who's lazy smirk on her painted lips could make Anzu envious. Mai leaned over the edge of the bar counter to pick up the timer and set five minutes on it.

"Shizuka? She's never really brought out into it as much. Otogi is a ham so she doesn't mind. My husband on the other hand..." The blonde sat down from leaning over with a huff. The thought of Jonouchi Katsuya only made Mai smile ruefully. He was a great Duel Monsters player and he made sure to provide for both her and their small five year old daughter, Reina, but his temper was still sometimes an issue."He gets angry when they involve Reina. He thinks she's too young."

Anzu could only nod. In the six years since they all mostly had graduated and the sennen items had been lost to the earth, her friends had excelled wonderfully in their chosen fields. Marriage somehow suited Mai in a way that the brunette hadn't thought about so many years ago. She was calmer now, though still almost as prideful as she had been.

"Hmm, it looks like I have to go. You'll come to dinner tonight, right?" Mai stood up from her seat, momentarily leaning down to grab her bags. She reached for her sunglasses on top of her blonde hair, pulling them down to her nose to hide her eyes.

"No, I really should get going. I promised Yugi's grandfather that I would come by with some soup." Anzu waved off the invitation, giving Mai an explanation. She smiled sheepishly to her friend as Mai's visage only became troubled at the mention of Sugeroku. It was known within their circle of friends that Yugi's grandfather was ill, having been in the hospital off and on in the last year alone. Yugi's competition money had been used mostly for the hospital bills. Recently, Sugeroku had been on the rise in his health, feeling well enough to have a day nurse come two days a week at his home above the arcade.

"He's not doing too well, is he?" The last Mai had heard was that he was in the hospital and Yugi was beside himself again. His mother had even come to stay to help Yugi with his grandfather's weakened disposition. Jonouchi and Yugi didn't really talk about what was going on with Sugeroku's health. It wasn't that it was taboo as far as Mai saw but that for Yugi, to even have the faintest idea of his grandfather dying, was really too hard to speak of.

"Well...I don't want to jinx him...Yugi's not taking it well." Sighing, Anzu nodded to her friend. It was something she didn't like to admit. Yugi had confided in her before he left for his most recent tournament in Kyoto, a day or so ago. He had wanted Anzu to be prepared in the worst case as his mother had left already and without anyone, Anzu was the closest Sugeroku Mutou had to family. Her best friend had cried as he left, knowing that he had to win in the tournament in Kyoto to pay for the most recent hospital bill.

"What about in a week or so?" Mai moved to the entry way, gathering her purple cork-heeled sandals to put on. She peered up at the brunette who had come out to see her off.

"I'm not sure if I'll have much time. I will be going to London in two weeks. There's a few plays there that I'm going to audition for before heading to New York City and auditioning there as well." Anzu gave Mai an apologetic smile along with a sheepish shrug. She wasn't blowing off her friend, but it was true that with all of the troubles of Sugeroku's health and her yearly trips right around the corner, Anzu was busy.

"Staying with Ryou then?" At the mention of Ryou, Anzu stiffened visibly. She knew what Mai was trying to get at. Ryou and her had a steady friendship that flourished better than the others, but it was mostly due to Anzu understanding that Ryou needed her there, not in his business like Yugi, Jonouchi, and Honda would be. He needed someone to wait, to let him come to them instead. The first two years after graduation, he had tried to stay in Domino City, but with his friends constantly coming over while he was trying to heal, not understanding that he was lashing out due to his frustrations with himself had strained their friendships. Anzu, though, had let him lash out at her and simply let him know that she would be there if he needed her to be. Ryou had thanked her for the simple gesture.

When his father asked him to take care of the flat in London, Ryou had debated on what to, but at Anzu's advice, he chose to go back to London, to start his life with a renewed breath, to put the past in Japan, at least until he was ready to face the terrible things that had happened due to the dark spirit from the ring. It was there that he started going to therapy and relaxing himself from the past that he had in Domino City.

"He's offered me a place there." With a frown towards Mai, Anzu finally let the cat out of the proverbial bag. It was a few years ago, after Ryou had moved back to London that he had mentioned it in an email that he wouldn't mind hosting her for a tiny bit. At the time, Anzu had been in a ballet company and was contracted to work the season in Tokyo and was unable to take him up on the offer. The story was different now. Seto and Mokuba Kaiba became her patrons and she performed with different companies under their name. She regularly made the trip to London and New York City on a yearly basis for auditions for the ballets to be done for the next season.

"Aren't you two just the coziest peas in a pod?" Mai appraised the brunette with a wicked smirk upon her lips. Anzu squirmed at the implication of her friend's comment. It was likely innocent but it was the truth that as far as Mai knew, Anzu didn't date or if she had, it was nothing noteworthy to have talked with the blonde about.

"Mai...I can't...Ryou?" Anzu's voice was soft as she questioned the possibility of her and Ryou crossing that strange boundary of friend and more than friends. It was an uneasy thought. She never had really given Ryou a passing thought romantically. The light-haired boy was too much like a younger sibling, one she looked out for when she could.

"I'm teasing. Let a married woman enjoy the thrill of possible romance through her friends." Mai interrupted her thoughts, waving her hand in playfulness. Her chirping giggle echoing between them.

"Still, Ryou is as celibate as a nun." Anzu reasoned quietly. In the entire time that she had known Ryou, especially after he moved to London and emailed her weekly about what was going on, he had never mentioned a special someone or even trying to go out and date. He mentioned more than once that he preferred simply writing for his job and going out for a walk with his German Shepard, Ramses.

"What if he made a move?" Her blonde friend raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Mai was truly concerned at the possibility. It wasn't that she wanted Anzu and Ryou to get with one another just to do so, but it was always a wandering idea. To Mai, Anzu needed someone to take care of, to be there for as she was for her friends, but Ryou needed someone to understand him and let him be when he needed it which as she could see, Anzu already did for him.

"...I'm..." Hesitant at even thinking about what would happen if Ryou asked her, Anzu fumbled for an answer to satisfy Mai who rarely took no answer as an actual answer. The blonde sighed loudly at Anzu's reticence.

"Just think about it, Anzu. Not like the world's ending on your answer." Mai's hand rested comfortingly on the brunette's shoulder, squeezing once before letting go. The blonde waved that same hand good bye as she left. Once the door closed behind Mai's departure, Anzu stood there. She wouldn't know how to respond to Ryou's romantic overtures. Likely, she would try to be upfront but seeing Ryou crumble before her was a certainty. Losing his friendship, something that was hard won, would be terrible and she honestly didn't want to lose it. The closed door had no answers for her as she stared at it. It wasn't until she heard the timer in the kitchen go off that she turned away from the door to check the stove top for her soup.

LLLL

Smiling at the sound of the door opening, Anzu looks over to the entryway from the top of the stairs to see who it is. For a moment, the dancer is annoyed to see Yugi's fiance at the bottom of the stairs. The blonde straight-haired American woman that her best friend is in love with is a hassle to handle some days. She's more straight-forward than most Americans that Anzu has had to deal with in her lifetime as a dancer. It unbalances her but she supposes for Yugi, that balances him. Where Rebecca is loud, he is soft. She is brash while he soothes, but for Anzu, Rebecca Hawking is jarring and unapologetic about it.

"Rebecca, how was the American tournament?"Choosing to ignore the annoyance from seeing Rebecca, not her best friend whom she was expecting to come home, Anzu called out to her in greeting.

"I won, of course. I'm glad I got back in time though. Yugi has been worried about his grandfather." Rebecca grinned widely as her name was called out. She adjusts her crimson cat-framed glasses upon her face. She moves to put on her house slippers, something Sugeroku was insistent upon when she first came to live with Yugi and Sugeroku. Seeing Anzu when she came back instead of Yugi first was only a slight damper. Her and Anzu weren't the best of friends, never had been. She doubted they would be better than what they were.

"Yugi should be on his way home from Kyoto soon, that is if he and Kaiba aren't in another one of their stalemates." Anzu moved from the top of the stairwell, into the kitchen nearby. Coming up to the second floor, Rebecca watched her old rival with a critical eye. The dancer was putting aside some food into Tupperware containers.

"Waiting for him?" Rebecca tested Yugi's best friend warily. It was a known fact to the American duelist that Yugi had harbored a crush upon his best friend, but Anzu's feelings about possibly even wanting more never came up. She never spoke of it and Rebecca had never heard any talk from Jonouchi or Honda about it.

"No. His grandfather likes the soups I make. I thought it might help him gain a little strength." Anzu smiled gently as she started making labels with the masking tape for each Tupperware container, putting the dates on them for Yugi and the nurse so that Sugeroku would have food ready for him to eat.

"Hey, Anzu." Rebecca watched her work. Her bright green eyes drawn to the date that she wrote in Japanese on each piece of tape before putting it on the lids of each container. Anzu hemmed at her in response. Sheepish at the unwarranted thoughts of jealousy when it came down to what Anzu was to her fiance, Rebecca let out a sigh.

"What is it?" The brunette looked over her shoulder at Rebecca as she began to put away the containers. Rebecca was uncomfortable, gripping hold of one of her arms with the other, shifting her weight every so often as Anzu gazed upon the shorter woman. Anzu made her fidget without meaning to, made the thoughts of Yugi preferring his friend's company over hers sometimes overwhelming, but most of all, Rebecca knew that Anzu didn't try to do any of those things. When she had come along, Anzu made sure that Yugi paid more attention to Rebecca, actively making sure she was busy whenever Rebecca mentioned she wanted to do something while she was in town. She was thoughtful that way and it made Rebecca grateful, but it also made it hard to actually know Anzu anymore than what she did. The American woman had chosen to not to get to know her boyfriend's best friend really, leaving Anzu's and her relationship tenuous at best.

"Thanks for being Yugi's friend. I know we aren't the best of friends but you've been there for him like you are now. I just...I want you to know that I'm not going to stop that when we get married. In fact, I was hoping you would be a bridesmaid. I know he's going to ask Jonouchi to be his best man, so maid of honor is going to Mai, but I want you to be there too." Gripping her left arm with her right, the American peered up at her fiance's best friend to see her reaction. Saying all these mushy things to the dancer was almost unbearable but it was something that Rebecca had on her mind for the last while, acknowledging to herself at least that Yugi wanted Anzu to be in the ceremony in some fashion, but he didn't know how to really tell Rebecca that.

It wasn't as if Rebecca hadn't picked up on his comments here and there when she was wedding planning, but it was hard for her to ask, when Anzu wasn't more than an acquaintance sometimes to her.

"I would love that." Anzu stared at her in wonder before smiling softly at her best friend's fiance. Yugi had mentioned once or twice that he wished she could be someone in his wedding to Rebecca Hawking, but he had felt it wasn't his right to ask her to do anything in it. Knowing Rebecca was actually asking her, the dancer could only feel elation and gratitude fill her. She knew it was a step forward in the awkwardness of their relation ship. Rebecca left it at that, choosing to go outside to the veranda where Sugeroku was sitting, playing chess with himself.

Anzu glanced at the two of them before going down the stairs. She put on her shoes, taking off the slippers Yugi had bought her back in high school for his house, and grabbed her purse. With one last glance up the stairs, Anzu opened the door and left, quiet as a mouse.

Without a word of good bye, she slipped out.

LLLL

"Ryou, don't worry. I'll be fine. I've made this trip how many times now?" Stepping into her kitchen to gather the hot cocoa she had made, Anzu adjusted her hold on her cell phone. Wearing a tank-top that fell down to her thighs and stretch capris, the brunette is almost ready to head for her bed at the bedroom near the stairwell.

"Four times a year." There is sigh heard from the phone as a very Welsh accented voice replies. Lightly closing her drawer as she retrieves a spoon to stir her mixture of hot milk and Swiss Miss, the dancer smirks at his reply. It was like this every time she went to London to do her auditions.

"Exactly. Kaiba pays for my seat each time. You know he will make sure that the plane is well-maintained." Ryou was always worried about her flying by herself, but for the past four years since she became an internationally known ballet artist, sponsored by Kaiba Corporated, he seemed to be more worried. It wasn't ever stated to Anzu whether or not Kaiba made sure all the planes were well-maintained before she boarded but she never had the stories of waiting for her flight to be fixed or having to switch planes due to mechanical failure.

"How is Yugi's grandfather doing?" Ryou decided to switch the conversation from her incoming travels. He was kept in the loop by Anzu more than anyone else, but even he had some niggling of an idea that Sugeroku was sicker than usual. Anzu's downtrodden sigh confirmed his thoughts.

"Not well, but he's been better for a month or so. It's alright for me to leave. Yugi said he would let me know if anything happens while I'm staying with you or when I'm in New York." Going up the stairs towards her bedroom with hot cocoa in one hand, phone in the other, the dancer stopped at the top of the stairs in thought. To admit that she wasn't scared of coming back to Japan after her auditions and finding Sugeroku's funeral being planned would be a lie. She felt inwardly terrible at leaving Yugi when his grandfather's health was up and down so often lately.

"Is there any thunderstorms on your lay-overs?" Ryou's voice, a constant entity of kindness, pulled her out of her thoughts. His worry was sweet, but Anzu could only smile at it. She was used to him worrying far more than he should, but to be fair to Ryou, Anzu really couldn't fault him. He had been suppressed by the Spirit of the Ring and hadn't dealt well with the aftermath. Ryou still walked around on eggshells, sometimes even with her when their mutual past was brought up.

"No. Let me check the weather if it's going to save you some gray hairs." Teasing, the dancer placed her drink down on the desk in her room before grabbing the remote and turning on her television. She went through the regular local channels quickly as Ryou expressed his displeasure at the remark about his hair.

"Not funny, Anzu." It was technically a sore spot for him. Color bled quickly away any time he had tried to dye it a different color, not that he had tried often. The platinum blonde color was something he had inherited from his mother and had shared with his sister, Amane. His father's darker-almost brown blonde had at times made it seem as if his father was the odd man out in the family.

"It was a litt-...Ryou, have you talked to Malik lately or Ishizu?" Anzu gasped when she crossed the international news channel, gaping at the sight in front of her. People were chanting and surging the ground news crews. The translation from English took the dancer a few moments. Her breath came short as thoughts of Malik and Ishizu Ishtar came unbidden. The last she knew of the Egyptian born siblings was that they had been in Cairo, visiting their kinsmen.

Thoughts of how dangerous Marik, Malik's alter ego, came to the forefront of her mind. He would thrive in the chaos and use it as an opportunity to destroy whatever control the young duelist had grown. It was not that she had fully forgiven Malik for his bout of mental illness in Battle City all those years ago, but she had chosen to get past the pain that had been inflicted upon her to help Malik get better after wards. He was one of Ryou's few friends that perhaps had a closer link to Ryou than even she did.

"Not since Malik went to New York a few months ago with Ishizu. They have an exhibit over at the Museum of History." Anzu tried to remember when the last time she had spoken to Ishizu, but she knew it had been more than a few months ago. Anzu made sure to keep in touch with Ishizu and Malik, to keep tabs on Malik's health as well as when Ishizu would come back to town and be able to visit Yugi.

"Turn on the world news. There's a riot happening." Her voice wavered, carrying her fearful thoughts of their mutual friends to Ryou. She could hear the soft gasp that her British comrade gave into the receiver as the echoing buzz of the television from his side of the line soon resembled the drone of the news about the riots.

"Anzu, I'll ring to be sure. You be safe on your journey here." With nothing in the way of a good bye, she was left standing there in awe of the television screen. The many figures that danced almost in the daylight, seeming to fight as a tide along the streets only caused her to fall down in wonder.

"Yeah, I'll try..." She spoke softly as she watched the reports differ between different reporters, all at different areas of the riots. A fleck of white hair came into view, white spiky blonde hair that was hard to see but was a flash in the browns and arid golds. Narrowing her blue eyes, Anzu watched in one of the clips that was being shown constantly as the blurred face of Bakura, Bakura with a scar down the right side of his face looked directly into the camera, but in the next second, it disappeared as if it had never been there.

'No way...He's gone. It's just a glitch on the screen, Anzu,' The dancer reasoned with herself, trying her best to ignore the niggling feeling that she was completely wrong and that the person she had seen, or thought she had seen was indeed the psychotic ancient spirit from six years ago, coming back to haunt her. It had to be a glitch.

LLLLL

In the midst of all the chaos that was around him, Bakura frowned to himself as none of the chaotic moving about actually seemed to effect him. People moved through him, unable to see the spirit. He was invisible and in a past life, he might have enjoyed that but now the simple idea of not being seen was annoying more so than anything. He had screamed at the two divers that had come across the sennen item that he was stuck in for hours. He sneered in annoyance and taunted them at first but with no actual response to his words, he found that he cared little for talking about them when they couldn't hear it.

At the moment, they were in an airport bar, somewhere in Heathrow International Airport and the two, Terra and her accomplice, the male that had picked his sennen ring out from the underwater cave, were talking, mostly about the ring. Bakura walked around the area, bored out of his mind by their conversation for every thief had the same kind of talk one day or another when talking about contraband.

"Glad we were able to sneak it past customs, Angel." Terra's voice was soft as she spoke and despite wandering away from the duo, Bakura found he could still hear them quite clearly, an advantage of his link with the ring. The man, Angel, laughed, clinking his glass against Terra's.

"Riots have them busy," were Angel's reply. The sound of glasses being settled down upon a wood table echoed in Bakura's ears. The Thief King glanced around to the comings and goings of the people around the walkways outside of the bar. His eyes stopped upon one figure who was heading out towards one of the exits. It was the girl- Mazaki- his mind supplied, coming out of the bathroom across the walkway.

"I know a few people over in London that could put out a few feelers for those who might get an interest in it." Bakura watched her head out towards the baggage claim. Something from the apathetic mess he had become ignited and all he knew was that he could not, definitely would not let him sold like some chattel without care. Anzu Mazaki was right there. Someone who knew of him at the least was right there!

"Meet up at the pub on Thursday?" His decision made, Bakura searched frantically to see if he was visible to anyone, praying to anyone that there was someone that would be able to sneak the ring from the pack that it was currently in. His brown eyes zeroed in on the only person who seemed to be staring straight back at him with confused blue eyes and cherry red cheeks. Without anyone else for a choice, Bakura decided that a five year old little girl would have to do.

"See you then." His chance came soon enough.

LLLL

Taking her shoes off with a huff, having traveled in them for almost twenty four hours across Asia and Europe to London, Anzu could only find herself in a downright grumpy mood. She had slept on the planes, waking up only when she landed, but had found with all the noise in the airport that she couldn't doze on her seven hour layover in Moscow, which was honestly quite a short layover according to Ryou when he picked her up in his car. To be fair though, it wasn't even the noise from Moscow that had gotten her into such a fit. Ryou closed the door behind her, taking off his own pair of boots.

"It's alright, Anzu. I'm sure it will be found soon." His soft voice did little to sooth her nerves as her fingers fumbled untying her sneaker strings. Grumbling, the brunette turned towards her friend with a sharp gaze.

"How could they have lost my luggage? This is the first time in four years!" Visibly upset, she finally kicked off her shoes, causing them to land on the shoe mat where Ryou's boots were placed gently next to. She stepped away from the front door to the cozy looking living area. Ryou's old couch looked as homely as it had the last time she stayed in his flat and a sense of relief filled Anzu at seeing that she did not see a flicker of Bakura as she had on the television. She knew that looking for Bakura wasn't going to bring him around.

"Anzu, they said they will send it as soon as it gets in." Following behind her with a cajoling smile, her friend placed his hand gently on her back to usher her past the entrance of the living to settle on the couch. The smell of violets and lavender surrounded her as soon as she sat down. The comforting softness relaxed her. Ryou was all soft curves and smooth edges, warm and sweet like hot chocolate on a cold night. He continued speaking in his mild-mannered tone in Japanese for her. When they talked, he knew she preferred it, especially in situations as stressful for her as this. "We can find something. I believe my father may have kept some of my mother's things."

"Thanks, Ryou. You're such a life saver." Slowly smiling, Anzu finally lets out a sigh, falling back into the cushions of the sofa. She closes her bright blue eyes, feeling the weight of the world rise off her shoulders. In the black that she feels herself falling into, she can hear Ryou stand up and head into the kitchen nearby.

"Don't think anything of it," is the last thing she hears before falling into slumber from exhaustion.

LLLL

When she wakes up, a few hours later, past lunch and a bit early for supper, Anzu can only breathe in the sweet smell of lavender and the mint that Ryou grows by the windowsill. It was raining earlier, but when she looks out the window, it is only slightly damp on the concrete in the garden. The clouds are still stormy looking, gray and ready to drop more of their rain down from above the shingled roofs and the other crowded buildings. Heavy knocking from the door knocker is the only thing to stop her from taking in more of the after storm's grace. Interrupted from her gazing, the brunette looks questionably for Ryou to find him trying to get out of his galoshes from the back door, to hurry to the front door to answer it.

"Coming!" The dancer waves him off, answering his front door for him. The sweater-vested heavy set man in front of her gives her a raised eyebrow. Glancing to the mirror above the jacket holders on the wall, Anzu blushes at her wild trusses. Sleeping on the couch has created a cowlick that half her hair seems content to go with.

"Luggage from Heathrow for a Ms. Mazaki?" Anzu smiles, nodding to him in confirmation. "Sign here." The man, Henry, according to his name tag, nearly shoves a small brown clipboard with a pen attached to it by some tape and twine to her. She gives him a look of askance at the pen, to which he gave the answer to. "People kept taking my pen by accident." With a chuckle, Anzu took a moment to glance down behind his knee on the steps to see her luggage looking like a gift sent from above. A wide smile dances upon her lips as she signs her name in Japanese, before remembering to scratch it out and write out her name in English for the man.

"Oh, thanks! Have a good night." Henry, taking his clipboard back with her signature on the piece of paper, nods, handing her the grip to her luggage. With the way he walks off and into the car on the road in front of the stoop, Anzu has no doubt that she won't be kept as anything else than another customer he has served in a long line of faces and names.

"Huh. This is heavier than I thought it was..." Waving goodbye, Anzu pulls her black baggage through the door, feeling as if it weighed more than when she had initially checked it in back in Narita Airport. Frowning, the brunette eyes her bag to see if there is any obvious reason why it should be heavier but from her inspection comes no answers.

"Anzu, did your bag come in?" Ryou calls out to her from the back door, having gotten one of his galoshes off during the entire quick exchange between her and Henry. Ryou watches her crouch down at the black bag.

"Yeah. I'll take it up to the room." She moves to stand up, taking a second glance to read her personal tag on the handle. With her confirmation that it is her bag, she grabs the handle and proceeds to go up the stairs. The thump of her suitcase hitting the next stair is the only sound between the two of them. Ryou takes his time to get off his other galosh.

"Dinner will be soon." He says it loudly enough for her while he heads into the kitchen, mostly to double check the casserole he has created and put in the over for the night's supper. Looking at the time, the silver-haired dungeon master could only sigh. He had wanted to spend some more time in his backyard garden before having to get his hands clean to cut and steam the specific vegetables that Anzu preferred.

"Enough time for a shower?" Putting her reacquired luggage into the guest bedroom, one that had all different colors of pale blue and white lace in it with its own attached bathroom, Anzu peeked her head over the railing to ask her dire question. Ryou leaned out of the kitchen, meeting her eyes with a soft smile.

"Yes. Cuppa?" His offer of tea wasn't anything to sniff at as Anzu felt a wide smile dance on her face. His Earl Grey tea made her Jasmine tea pale in comparison. While Anzu brought the Eastern style of tea to life amongst their friends, it could be said that only a true Brit could bring European styled tea to its maximum potential in taste.

"Any type will do." He laughs, knowing that Anzu has particulars when it comes to her tea, having shared tea with her for almost a decade, more so than any of their other friends had. He had introduced the British way of tea-making to her and she had brought him into a rarely seen part of her life when she started having him come over for studying during their last years of school together.

"Let the water run a few minutes before you get in." She waves at him dismissively. He knows she heard him which is good enough as he turns back to the dinner he is preparing. Once upstairs, away from Ryou and the smells of the kitchen, Anzu looks into the front of her backpack that she carried with her on her trip, to where she kept her pajamas and extra set of undergarments. Taking them out, she grabs a set of white fluffy towels from the linen closet in the bathroom, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Sighing in happiness at the idea of not having to worry about her audition clothing and her dance shoes, the brunette gets to filling up the bath. The steam is more than enough to make her feel full and lazy like a cat getting the cream it deserves for all of its hard work. Undressing once the tub is full, Anzu takes her time getting in. When she finally is in the bath, she takes a breath and dunks herself to the bottom of the tub. At the bottom, she opens her eyes with a sense of serenity pouring into her. Whoever had the room before it became the guest room enjoyed the stars it seemed as there were glow in the dark stars all over the dark blue ceiling. The wallpaper, some blue and white striped thing, made it seem as if she were reaching for the sky of put upon constellations. The need to take a breath takes hold only a minute later and it is when she breaks the surface, when she peers towards the toilet, after having relaxed with the warm lull of the filled tub that she sees Bakura again since the airport. Her mouth opens to scream but she stops herself short before the air can escape to only snort. She would only worry Ryou and she knew that seeing the ancient spirit that had possessed him and abused him would only make all the progress he's had with his therapy go back for years.

He's only staring down at her with the a face that makes her feel as if he's as bewildered and alarmed as much as she is. After dealing with all of Yugi's duels throughout the many, extremely many tournaments, Anzu realizes she really doesn't have much to fear. Sure, the Bakura standing by the toilet not even five feet away could kill her but in her experience if he was going to, she wouldn't have seen him in the first place.

'Why is he here anyway?' Her mind questioned as it dawned on the dancer that the situation was only going to get more awkward if neither of them spoke. It wasn't often Anzu bathed with someone nearby, let alone someone in the same bathroom unless she was dancing in a show or at her practices for ballet. She couldn't even think of a time that the other occupant had been male either. So, in all, this was a first.

"Bakura, I'm not going crazy, am I?" So far, with all the other things her mind can come up with to say, confirming her sanity seemed a first priority. After so many years and dealing with strange events, the dancer had to have some basis for her reality, even if that meant talking to incorporeal spirits while bare in a tub full of soap and water. For a few more moments, Anzu thought he wouldn't answer. His posture was tense before he moved to settle on top of her towels on the toilet seat.

"Honestly, I don't think you ever were in danger of that." He stares at his hands, clasped between his legs, focusing on the callouses of his fingers. This was himself. He knew the scars and where he had received them from and yet it was very foreign for him, ever since he had reawakened. A rather un-ladylike snort is all he gets for a few more moments as she dunks her head under water before resting her arms on the edge of the tub and her head on the rim.

"That's good, I guess." Her voice carries little weight for him as he continues his fixation with his hands. Blue eyes watch him with every movement, unable to shake the feeling that this really isn't the Bakura she is used to have dealt with before. It's an unspoken word between them, a heavy weight in the air as she wants to ask but is afraid he'll retaliate as he sits there, thinking upon something she isn't sure she can grasp. Could Zorc be gone for good? Is Bakura really just the thief or is he still evil?

"How long has it been?" The gravel of his voice takes hold against her body, reminding her that not too long ago she had definitely had multiple dreams of the tomb robber robbing her innocence with his all too knowing smirk and marked features. His eyes had lifted from his hands to her eyes, taking in the darker hue of blue he had forgotten about in the darkness as color had been sapped from him for so long.

"Six years." He took a sharp inhale of breath. Six years?! His mind raced. He was gone for that long? The emptiness in the darkness came back to him and he realized he had probably slept those years away in a comatose state of nothingness. He had had no basis for time. The isolation did little to help his mind from ruminating on the loss of his drive and ambition to actually do anything to try and find a way out of it.

"The Pharaoh?" The name still left a taste of bitterness in his mouth, but Bakura wasn't sure if it was from regret at not being able to kill the man himself, spirit and all, or if it was from his hatred for the man. It was a test for himself. Since Zorc had been destroyed, the anger and hatred he had held onto as a life line for so damn long since the destruction of Kul Elna had always been easily ignited by the very mention of the Pharaoh. Instead of feeling the need to destroy something out of anger and sadistic glee, Bakura felt nothing more than a pang of distant dislike as if the Pharaoh had been just part of his old life and not part of his reason to continue living for more than a millennium.

"Atem's been gone for most of them. He's gone." He snorted in annoyance at his feelings of general disinterest about Atem. It was that…..he no longer cared. Zorc had helped fuel his anger but now that he was gone and the Pharaoh was out of his reach forever, with everyone who had once been responsible for the destruction of his hometown as a child dead and long gone, he was at a loss. He figured Mazaki could continue prattling on about the man, but to him it would be nothing to give her an ear for. It was like talking about bad weather.

"Then why am I here?" He hadn't meant to speak those words aloud, instantly regretting that he had. He turned to see Anzu curled against the side of the tub, the water rippling as she swatted at his leg for him to move it, not actually touching him. He frowned before doing so. It would be too much trouble to attack her, even if he could, not sure of how the rules quite worked out in this arrangement. She grabbed her washcloth that had been under his leg.

"I don't know, but you're not going to possess Ryou." She dipped the cloth in the water, soaking it thoroughly before applying the soap he spied on the other side of the shower. Anzu figured she was likely crazy or dreaming in the bath, but she was not going to waste good hot bathwater on crazy. She shrugged at her newest reality. After everything in Domino had happened with Atem, she had grown emotionally, becoming more stable in her choices, choosing to follow-through her dancing, overcoming her shyness with her body eventually. Dancing and showering with a gaggle of girls after her practices had certainly helped. She just tried her best to not mind the fact that Bakura was most definitely male, with rugged good looks that Ryou could one day grow into, but unlikely wouldn't.

"No. I won't. Not now at least." Watching the woman in the tub start rubbing her arms with the soapy cloth, Bakura shook his head at the idea. Possessing Ryou again had poached his mind briefly, but like with the thoughts of the Pharaoh, the desire to even want to affect the world again, more than he was-by testing Mazaki's mental stability a little- seemed to be small at best. It was loathsome almost. He didn't want to be stuck in that weak body, one that would likely blow away at the most adverse winds. Ryou would be safe from him.

"What do you mean by that?" Asking Bakura to explain himself seemed to cause him to disappear without warning. Anzu stretched her hand out to where he had been, trying to figure out if he was ever really there in the first place. "Hey!"

"Anzu?" Her cry of surprise did not go unnoticed as Ryou came and knocked on the bathroom door. Blushing, Anzu ducked into the tub to hide her face. She didn't want him to know about Bakura, so she gave him a lie instead, feeling slightly terrible for doing so in the first place, as Ryou needed honesty around him more so than liars.

"Sorry, give me a few minutes! I fell asleep!"

LLLLL

The next time she sees him, he's sitting on the bed where she's supposed to sleep. His hands are brushing the quilt that Ryou's grandmother had made his mother. The light blue of the pattern sewn into the blanket contrasts with his darker tanned skin. She honestly doesn't know what to make of him being there. The questions still continue unhindered in her mind, but some she knows would be far too prying and others mostly obvious.

"I don't know why you can see me." His words answered one of the many silent questions she had for him. His eyes were soft hues of red, almost violet, reminding Anzu of the Monet paintings she had seen at her father's work when she was a child. His fingers seemed to be pulling at a wayward strand of threading from the quilt, twisting and turning it around one of his fingers as he spoke to her with his voice deep and gravelly as if he could be the warm hearthstones she had imagined sitting on as a child during Christmas.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's not my bag." Bakura snorted in return at her words.

"No. It is." Anzu was rather relieved at that. She had her dancing shoes, both tap, ballet point, and heeled ballet shoes in there, most which cost Kaiba money that he hadn't wanted to really part with when it came down to sponsoring her trade. He often sent her memos about how often she had to buy point shoes. (Not her fault when she ended up constantly dancing in ballets where point shoes were required.)

"The sennen ring is in there, isn't it?" He nods to her question, looking pointedly towards the zippered pouch on the luggage. The brunette is not sure what to do with the piece of Egyptian mystic jewelry. She should probably call Ishizu and see what the museum collector would do with them. Instead of reaching for her cell phone, she opens the pouch where he was staring. She isn't surprised to find the sennen ring resting amongst her makeup bag, though she probably should be.

"Yes. I was able to call out to a child. I had her find your bag and put it in there." He answers another one of her questions without her actually asking. The dancer wonders if he can hear her but it seems unlikely. She slips the necklace out of the zippered pouch, putting it instead in the bottom of her travel bag, where Ryou would not find it so easily.

"How did it get lost then?" Her inquiry is met with silence. She looks up at Bakura after putting the golden necklace under her clothing in the luggage. He is looking away from her and she takes in his form with more leisure than she had in the bathroom. He is visible, but not solid, transparent enough that he colors the things he stands upon. She blinked with bewilderment. A tinge of pink was visible on his cheeks.

"..." Was he blushing? Could spirits even blush? With silence being the weighed upon enemy of their conversation, Bakura ducked his chin to his chest, pouting to himself. The idea of the Thief King spirit sulking was certainly silly, especially in the situation Anzu found herself in. "...I forgot which belt we took it off of."

"Oh..." What else could she say about that? She smirked though at the idea. Bakura had likely been more angry than anything that he couldn't remember where her belt was.

"What are you going to do, Bakura?" Anzu's voice brought him to the realization that he didn't have any other plan available. He didn't know what he wanted. The idea of the familiar is what had spurned him to get the sennen ring into the dancer's bag in the first place. He was in the familiar abode of Ryou, but getting back into the psyche of Ryou was the last thing he really wanted to do. There was nothing for him to do. He didn't even know why he was brought back now.

There was only silence as her answer. She finally looked up to see him stare at her, but he looked as if he was seeing past her. She wasn't there to him and for another moment, Anzu felt as if she was observing a star fall in the middle of a midnight sky, falling down fast and streaking the darkness with its brilliance for only a few moments before glittering out and becoming an empty space against the black pitch of night.

"I will stay with you."

LLL

"Your toes look horrible." Bakura's comment isn't snide, just matter-of-fact as Anzu is putting on the lotion she likes applying to her toes. He is staring with eyes so brown and red that she feels as if he is the sunset on dark soil. He burns the world with his stare, but he is burning with curiosity, unspoken questions as he isn't elaborating upon what he really wants to ask. It is trepidation at its finest moments. For some reason, Anzu just accepts that this is Bakura's way of asking.

"It's due to my shoes for ballet. I wear point shoes for certain ballets. Hard on the toes as you can see." She laughs, more out of amusement than shame about the way her toes look to him. He almost frowns but stops before he does. "Ballet wasn't during your time, but it focuses a lot upon precision and grace. Looking almost as if I am in flight on my toes while executing one or two pirouettes- twirls," She takes a moment to explain what is what for him, something Bakura quietly appreciates as ballet was not something he put a focus on when he was infested with Zorc, "is the best feeling in the world. Getting lost in an art is beautiful."

Bakura stares at her, watching her eyes glitter in awe of the dance she is describing to him. He is in two places at once. The face that looks at him with blue eyes is darker skinned, almost a black with cerulean blue dust around her eyes, drawing him in. He feels his once dead heart beat, a beat that it shouldn't be able to procure. He sees Egypt in the skies of her irises and is reminded that he had a life. He sees the mischief in Teanna, the concern, the lilted eyes of kindness that desired his company. The past is with him in a way that he cannot break from.

His fingers brush against her skin. The touch so light and fragile that the Anzu doesn't know what to make of it. She is caught in a memory to him. She is not there and there and he can't decide which is which at this moment. What breaks the spell is worst than being in the darkness. It isn't until the spell is broken with light olive skin replacing dark with charcoal-lined eyes and blue powder on the lids, that Bakura swallows thickly. He can feel guilt touch his toes as surely as Anzu can see him.

He only whispers, "Teanna," with such a hushed, harried, breathless way that it seems as if he is calling out a prayer to his gods. Anzu blinks and he has vanished. Left alone, the dancer gasps for breath as sorrow grabs hold of her and the only sense of why is a pair of amber eyes that have mysteriously disappeared again.

LLLL

He was in the audience of the vacant middle balcony where no one sat any longer as it was unsafe despite being the grandiose part of another time, seated without fuss as she went through the routine. The only other people in the theater were herself and the three people watching in the front row, judging with contemplative faces. No one seemed to take notice of him, except for her. She could feel his crimson brown eyes take in her form with a hunger she did not know of. It had only been a few days since he appeared in the bath and only yesterday when he confirmed he wouldn't be seen by Ryou. This morning with his whispered plea for whomever Teanna was, still played upon her mind. It was strange to see him so soon.

Ryou had wanted to come with her to the audition but she had begged him not to, not wanting him to accidentally see the spirit of the sennen ring that had haunted him for years. His progress of being out in public was going rather well and honestly, Anzu didn't want her dear friend to regress back to the mess he was after high school, being stuck at home working on campaigns for Monster World. (Which Kaiba had bought out a few months beforehand and had hired Ryou as a lead writer for them after hearing about some of the campaigns they had participated in during their vacations when not at duel tournaments or Otogi's arcade)

He had chosen to pick her up instead right after, taking it down to her nervousness about the audition, though it was with gentle chiding that he reminded her that she would have to get over her stage fright and that he would most definitely be at the first showing on opening night. She could only sigh at the grateful and betraying thought that she was glad Ryou hadn't fought her too much on coming with her to her try-out. If he had, she might have let slip the real reason why she hadn't wanted him to come, the one sitting on the supposedly vacant middle balcony amongst filigreed chairs and ornately carved armrests of an era long bygone.

She probably should mention to someone that she was seeing and talking with a specter of their shared past, but because of just who Bakura was and how he was acting now, she still chose to keep silent. Truthfully, it wasn't fair that it was Bakura who had found his way back into her life and not Atem. Though if Atem did come back, Anzu knew it wouldn't have been for her. He wasn't tied to her the way she had chosen to be to him. It was the way that it had always been.

She heaved a breath from her lungs, keeping herself back from the idea of Atem coming back. Despite the slippery slope that she was standing figuratively at the precipice of, in her own mind, Anzu did not feel the need to follow down the crevice to the unsteady depression that awaited her like she had when Atem had first been taken and the sennen items had fallen down into the earth, swallowed by the maw of broken crust.

Looking over at the spirit who had come back as she completed her audition with one last twirl on her feet, posing in the finishing set, Anzu came to a decision. Bakura was in the present and so would she be.

LLLL

It isn't until she's leaving England, two weeks after arriving, that Bakura seems more real to her. He is casting a shadow, a dark thing that hadn't appeared during any of their earlier conversations. When she notices, he's asking where she is going. He is standing against the dresser where the window is open, letting in the rare sunny day. The sun crosses his features to the floor and in the dust there is a shade of himself to her surprise.

"New York City. I will wait for a call from there, but the ballet companies are looking for new talents this spring." He nods, understanding that she means a different country, having had things sent from overseas before. Anzu watches him warily, uncertain if she should tell him that he seems more visible. There are tones in his hair and skin that is showing more and more.

He is copper and ruddy red with silver and pale blonde flitting this way and that in the sun in front of her. He is earth personified, dry and cracked with his scar breaking his face as if by lightning to rest beside the mountain of his lips. He wears a crown of metal fringes and soft ends.

She stares with wonder. He is the story told thousands of times to only be retold once more with a new light. To her, Bakura is no longer a former dimension of who he once was. He is becoming. He is shifting and creating and being more.

Trepidation warns Anzu.

"What are you staring at?" His words seem less like gravel in a drought of dried wasteland. It is a shifting erosion, a hiss of wind. The dancer can't help but swallow to herself and wonder if she should lie. She fidgets in her silence. Should she keep the news of his shadow to herself? Should she not speak of it at all? One look at those eyes he bores into her and Anzu knows what to do.

"Your shadow."

She drops the door and follows his bewildered visage to the imitation him on the ground to his side. He is born from the gallows with her words bringing him honesty instead of lies.

LLLL