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Warning: Once again, nothing really.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It took a full two weeks to get the designs redrawn and passed out. It might have taken longer but Atemu stomped into the architect's room every few hours, demanding progress. Nightly he called me into his room, not to play but to listen to his rants. The Thief King Bakura. He, my phantom, was the cause of his anger. I sat silent at the foot of his bed while he paced the room, yelling curses and oaths. Through all of this I could do little more than bite my lip and keep my eyes to the ground.
Should I tell him of my silver haired ghost? Obviously he was the thief that my King had been fuming about. But every time I opened my mouth to tell him something stopped me; some…force stopped me. I simply couldn't, whether it was from some form of misplaced loyalty or if I thought he wouldn't believe me I don't know. Maybe it was that I was already in love, even then.
Construction started up again and Atemu went back to leaving daily; rather than being restlessly confined to the palace. I took these times to scour the palace for my phantom. For days there was noting, then came the day in the hallway. He seemed to have a love of shadowed rooms, as yet again, most of the torches had flickered out. I froze, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
Something shifted behind me and a shock of fear barreled through my body.
"Hello Ryou. Long time no see." Was he behind me, or to the left? I spun, and was blind. I lost my footing and tipped backwards. I would have fallen to the stone floor if my phantom hadn't caught me. His arms wrapped around my shoulders and crossed over my chest, pinning my arms to my sides.
"L-let me go," I stuttered. He was a thief in the days when thieves killed for little more than a look; and I knew his secret. He chuckled darkly into my ear.
"Why would I do that? It's been a long time since I've held anything so pretty," he whispered. I blushed.
"I'm not an object," I told him, desperately trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. Bakura laughed at me once again.
"Yes. You are. The Pharaoh took you from your family and from then on you have been an object. Just because you've been taught a few tricks doesn't make you a person again." Bakura's words hurt, mostly because they were true. I licked my suddenly dry lips.
"Then I'm the Pharaoh's object; so let me go." It was all the courage I could muster. His arms tightened around me rather than letting go.
"And I'm a thief." Another swell of fear rose from my stomach to my chest, then finally settled in my thrat; the force of it welled tears in my eyes. He couldn't mean that…
"Y-you wouldn't steal from the Pharaoh! That's suicide!" He laughed.
"I'm the king of thieves. I take whatever I want, no matter who it belongs to," he whispered in my ear like some demon of the night. I tried to struggle my way out of his arms but he was too strong. "Don't struggle little bird. You'll only hurt yourself." He said I would hurt myself but it was his hand that slid up to my throat, his fingers that tightened over my windpipe, stopping any air and my will to fight. Bakura pushed me against a wall, the chill of the stones biting through my thin clothes. I shivered. "Play something for me." I looked at him, confused as he backed up a step. He merely crossed his arms.
"What do you want me to play?" I asked. What do you play for a thief? He shrugged, still watching me. He looked ready to catch me if I ran, but there was not need. My fear held me routed to the spot. Great waves of it crashed through me. How had I been so stupid to seek this man out? I took the little harp from my waist and pulled my trembling hands over the strings. He raised his brow at the feeble notes that came out.
"Such trouble for a shaky hand. Perhaps you're not as valuable as I had thought," he chided. I shot him a glare, nothing very impressive with my feminine features. I sank to the floor, my knees weren't going to hold me for much longer. I took a few deep breathes and strummed another few notes. No song had made itself present in my mind as of yet. A lullaby? He'd jest at it. A tale of a foreign hero? Surely that would bore him with its tales of morality. There was a little song…it was about a pair of lovers meeting a t a pool. For some reason that one stuck with me, so it was what I played for him. The words were a little high for me, but I sang for him. After a few bars he sat down across from me. He kept a steady gaze on my face. It unnerved me, but I hardly had the courage to tell him to stop. I hadn't finished when he leaned forward, getting up on hi knees. He cupped his palm to my cheek, and my fingers froze on the instrument. "I take it back. Your music is pretty as your face."
This terrified me, I'm not sure why, he had called me pretty before, he had touched me before, but never with this tenderness. Nobody had, not since my parents…I made a little gasp noise and pulled back as far as the wall would let me, and when that was not enough I sank closer to the floor. I turned my face so he wouldn't see my tears. He only laughed at me for the umpteenth time since our meeting and leaned down to kiss my cheek.
"Wh-what are you doing?!" I demanded. Why was he touching me like this? Why did I feel such unease around him but at the same time feel so… He smile, and ran his hand up my arm to my neck, then something made him stop. His fingers brushed the cord that my necklace hung from. He pulled the ring from inside my shirt and lay it on his palm. Something dark and maleficent flitted across his face, like a cloud passing over the sun. His crimson eyes met mine and he yanked me up by my arms.
"Where did you get this?" he demanded. I trembled in answer. Bakura lost his temper and slapped me across the face.
"The-the Pharaoh! He gave it to me when I first came here!" My hand on my face, cheek stinging. He left then, eyes blazing in anger.
I sat shivering in the hallway long after he had left. What had caused such a volatile reaction from him? My necklace? Or the fact that the Pharaoh had given it to me? Eventually I rose to my feet and went back to my room.
I told myself there and then that I would never wander the palace, or seek him out ever again. I walked back to my room on weak knees.
Atemu called me to his chamber the next morning. I was still scared, still unnerved from being… Bakura. He scared me, a lot.
"The pyramid is coming along nicely," he told me after I had played a song for him. I smiled for him, a motion that never reached my eyes.
"Have you made up for the lost time?" I asked. He leaned back on his bed as I sat on the floor.
"Mmm. Not really, but a few more days ought to do it. I suppose that what's-his-name the thief has moved no." I licked my lips and looked at the floor. He was gone? But that was a good thing, wasn't it? He wouldn't be back again, wouldn't sneak up on me again. Still, something tight and bitter wound itself in my stomach. "Ryou, will you stop looking at the floor? I've given you permission again and again to ignore decorum when we are alone and still you ignore me," Atemu lectured. I flushed and looked up to his face, though I focused on the bridge of his nose rather than his eyes. I am, and always will be, terrible at eye contact.
Atemu left a few hours after that. With his tomb so close to completion he seemed eager to be near it at all times. Was the rest of eternity not enough for him? I stayed behind as always, though I went straight to one of the gardens, staying only in the brightly lit halls. I sat next to one of the bushes of pretty flowers and plucked one out. The tree above me kept me in the shade, and it even produced a fruit. Something sweet in a prickly skin that I didn't know the name of. I twirled the flower between my fingers, humming softly to myself.
There was a sound from behind me and I twisted to face it. He popped from behind a bush, or a tree, or maybe he just appeared. He had a bag with bulging seams on his back. I remember thinking, in my naiveté, that he was packed and ready to leave town.
I huddled in on myself, but stayed where I was as he seated himself next tome. It was…surreal. Sitting next to the man I had been so scared of. He smiled at me and I turned to look at him, something about the pure daylight and his sitting there as if nothing had ever happened.
"You're leaving?" I asked, eyeing his bag. He nodded, and I suddenly felt lonely. I'm not sure why, but something in my very soul needed to reach out to him, to beg him to say. "So…I'll never see you again?" He laughed.
"I wouldn't say that." I smiled to myself. I'm not sure why, but I wasn't scared now, I wasn't angry or afraid of hi, I just wanted to be near him. I nodded at the bag.
"What's in there?" I asked. He smirked at me.
"The other things I'm stealing today." I turned toward him in time to see him reach over to my neck. His fingers tightened on something, and the darkness converged over my eyes.
He had knocked me out cold.
I'm sorry that this one is so short, but this was such a good place to end it. And I now this was a long time coming but, I feel, it's better written than my others, and I have a SHIT load of homework. But I will do my best to get the next one out soon. PLEASE REVIEW!!