When Bakura made it back home finally, it was late and the sun had set a few hours ago. After the boy had left, he had spent those few hours wandering aimlessly in the deserted areas of town. When he had decided to go home it was only because he was afraid Yami would be asleep for good, and unable to let him back in the house. (He had gotten in before in such a case because he was taller than Yami, but it was still a pain in the neck).

He stepped through the hole in the bottom of the building, that emerged just below the ceiling of the basement of the house. A small ledge was just inside and once he was crouching on it, he stepped around so he could jump from it down to the only space of ground not covered in old falling apart furniture. Dust rose up in a cloud around his feet as he landed, and he coughed. A spider was also startled, and as it scurried away Bakura decided to kill it so Yami wouldn't freak out. Now up the ladder, he mused. Up the ladder through a hole in the ground to the first floor. This one was relatively cleaner, but a huge web of spiders on the left wall suddenly made Bakura realize how little he usually paid attention while climbing up.

He searched for a stick or broom and picked up an old floor plank to swat it away with. Two more spiders rushed off and Bakura killed them both before destroying the eggs they had planted there. The black smudges made him grossed out; he didn't like leaving dead guts around. Yami could clean them later, once Bakura said spiders flocked to dead one's bodies.

Back on track, he headed up the spiral staircase along the outer wall through three more floors before he was at the sixth; a shabby room with rotting furniture and old tarps that had once been used to cover the tops of bazaar stands. Neither of them knew why this floor was such a wreck but it helped them climb up to the final floor so they had never cleaned it up.

The thief stepped onto the beams the tarps stretched between until he was at the top of them, only a few feet below the tapestry covered hole.

He hit it once; stirring more dust. "Yami. I'm back."

He heard shifting above and a mumble before footsteps told him that Yami had stood and was approaching the hole. The tapestry slid aside carefully as Bakura reached up and gripped the edges to lift himself up with the help of another beam standing straight up just to the side of the hole.

"Where have you been?" Yami murmured drowsily as Bakura sat on the edge of the hole.

"Out." Bakura answered.

Yami snorted. "No duh. Did you bring me something?" His eyes became hopeful. Bakura pulled the kohl from his robe and tossed them to Yami. His friend squealed. "Where did you find these?"

"Some girl left them out." Was all the white haired man said before swinging his legs up and then going over to his bed. Yami raised an eyebrow at him, pulling the mat back over the hole before flopping into his pile of blankets. Bakura slipped his old sandals off and pulled out the other ones to try on. A content noise escaped him; his old shoes had long since been worn thin on the soles and caused his feet to become rough from climbing and stepping on rocky ground. To have actual comfort under his feet was quite a relief.

Yami rolled onto his back, his leg propped up onto his other knee carelessly. His eyes were scanning Bakura's face narrowly, and finally he said "What happened?" Bakura looked at him briefly. "Something is eating you. Tell me."

"It's nothing." He answered.

Yami frowned almost comically, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Bakura. You're my friend and I'm kinda concerned. You never get down. In fact, you only ever show happiness when we are killing someone or robbing them. What gives?"

Yami's words spoke a truth Bakura couldn't deny and he finally sighed before standing and going over to the tapestry covering the balcony. The tri-colored haired man clamored to his feet and rushed over; afraid to miss anything Bakura might whisper, and excited that he might finally open the balcony for once. Bakura used to go out onto it all the time and stare at the palace when he was in a sour mood, but that was when they were younger, and the scarred man hadn't shut off his emotions yet. Yami still didn't know why, but one day Bakura returned with the carpet and hung it up- saying nothing but to not open it. The shorter man had his suspicions; something like that the palace reminded Bakura of the life they had been forced to have since his family had died, or that he didn't want to be tempted to rob the royal family, but he had never confirmed or dismissed either of those theories and Bakura gave no hint.

Ever since then, Yami had been wishing Bakura would remove the cloth, not only because he found the view breathtaking but because it would mean whatever had caused him to close it off had begun to be resolved.

"Bakura?" He asked gently. "Did... Someone remind you of your parents again?" That had happened once, for a short time Bakura wouldn't leave the house because a woman who looked like his mom was with a caravan staying in town. Yami didn't blame him but he needed to know so he could get up early to get food tomorrow.

Bakura turned and gave Yami a small reassuring smile. "No."

"Then what is it?" Yami huffed. He duly noted Bakura's fingers were touching the cloth over the balcony lightly.

The white haired man laughed suddenly and he stepped away several feet. "Something stupid."

The grin on his face most certainly was stupid. He looked drunk or similar to a puppy struck with-

Yami gasped, exaggerating it by puffing his chest and leaning back. Bakura raised an eyebrow at him like he had grown another head. "You!" Yami's excited voice rang through the area. An accusatory finger was raised, and as Yami stalked forward to his friend, he jabbed it into the tanned forehead. "You met a girl didn't you?"

Bakura rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Are you five?"

The man in question stomped his feet lightly; like a bounce a child did when promised candy. "You were the last time this happened! What's her name?"

The taller of them couldn't hide his slight blush as he looked away from Yami. "I don't know."

"She better not be a prostitute-"

"NO, Yami, god." He growled. "I'm not stupid."

Yami smirked. "Yeah okay. Who is she?"

"There isn't a girl." Bakura retorted. The look he was given spelled out that he wasn't being believed. The thief nervously rubbed the back of his neck with a glare painted onto his face. "... I don't know. Really. I just... Saw that she had lots of money and followed her, but we ended up talking instead and-"

"She had a lot of money?"

Bakura pursed his lips irritably. "Yes.. I assume, by how she was dressed... It's just that, she bit back at me. She didn't cower when I cornered her, but she yelled at me.. And it was weird. Aside from you no one has ever done anything but fear me, least of all stand up to me."

A smirk came to Yami's face and his eyes sparked with interest. "So? Was she pretty?"

Bakura's mind went back to the kid he had pushed into the alley; and now that he thought more about the elegant features on his face he questioned if it had been a boy or a girl. The blonde hair; unheard of in a place like Egypt, the lavender eyes; similar to Yami's but so much more defiant and innocent... He didn't realize it but a smile had slowly crept onto him again, and Yami was watching it with anticipation. Bakura never showed interest in people, especially romantic interest. But right in front of him his oldest friend was probably recreating the memory in his head and it made him happy.

"Yes." He murmured. "But someone came and she left with them, after making sure they wouldn't find me." He met Yami's eyes. "She knew I was a thief, knew I meant to steal from her, and yet she wasn't afraid and she protected me." Bakura bit his lip as he tried to carefully chose his next words. "She was someone important based on her clothes and she had no idea what 'citizens' should look like." He trailed off as he tried to think of what this meant.

Yami didn't say anything but Bakura could read him easily. He was mulling it over as well and probably confused, just as Bakura was, but he remained silent so Bakura decided to change subjects.

"Come on, let's get some sleep."

Yami nodded and headed over to his bed. Bakura walked to his slowly, and when he dropped down among the blankets he found a lack of sleep, brought on by images of the boy he had met in the market; and questioning who he was really.

Isis was pissed.

No, pissed was an understatement.

If she had been pissed the night before during their argument, she was furious now. Flaming and hissing and ready to snap Marik's neck in half.

He gulped.

"Leave." The word left Isis's lips cold and hard as if a brick had been dropped onto the ground. The two guards who had escorted Marik to this room looked at each other before leaving as told. Each step they took made Marik cringe with the echo, and his heart thud with the panic of what was to happen next. When the door finally shut, his eyes darted away from her, and his pulse went on overdrive.

Isis carefully crossed her arms and cocked her hip out as she shifted her weight onto her right leg. "Wanna tell me what you were doing out of the palace walls? In an alley?" Her tone was harsh and sharp.

Marik made an uncomfortable face. "Shopping?" That reminded him of what he had bought, and he fished for it in his robes. His fist closed around it and he held it out to her. "I bought this for you." He explained.

Isis eyed it apprehensively for a few moments but didn't move. Marik felt an ache at the obvious rejection; not just of the gift but of him and his actions. He lowered his head a little.

"Marik why would you leave?"

"Do you really have to ask?" He snapped. The girl looked taken aback. "After what I told you last night?"

Finally she held up a hand and Marik stopped mid sentence. "Jounochi is still here. I am going to tell him to extend his stay until I have chosen you a suitor." Marik opened his mouth to argue but she interrupted. "Go to your room and stay there. I will have guards on watch of you from now on."

"Sister!"

"Quiet!"

Marik jumped at her raised voice. Her eyebrows were furrowed deep and her eyes burned with disappointment. "Go. Now."

The blonde prince had never been more hurt than he was now. Him and Isis barely fought, and the last few days that was all they had done. But even more so, Isis never yelled. Marik knew that meant she truly was upset; it just made him want to scream at himself.

The palace room seemed endless as he rushed from it blindly with tears blurring his vision. Navigating the halls seemed to last forever before finally he was in his room and he flung himself into his bed. He had never been so defiant of his sister, of that he was sure, but he had also never been so stupid as to do something like escape the palace. He had almost been robbed to top it off too- if he had been Isis would have killed him for sure.

Marik's embarrassment had suddenly faded; to be replaced with a new feeling, that left him with a gentle smile and an image of stormy grey-blue eyes only inches from his own. He recalled the rough shove that had sent him into the wall, and the tough hands that had touched him. The same hands that had played with his earrings as their owner observed him. He knew the thief had probably been after his jewelry or money, but somehow he honestly didn't care. And he hadn't taken anything from him in the end- an act which Marik was grateful for.

But then why? He wondered. Why pull me away and then let me go?

The thief's laugh echoed in his ears and he buried his face into the pillows with a flush on his cheeks. Why are you invading my thoughts? He asked of the imagined picture. Why did I protect you?

Realizing he wasn't getting answers soon, he gave up and rolled under his blankets to sleep. A night that turned out to be empty for him as well, save for memories of the stranger he had encountered.

When Marik woke, it was only because a scaled head was butting into his shoulder playfully. As he pulled himself from his drowsiness, his eyes met the sky through his curtain and with a groan he sat up and rubbed his cheek. Slyfeir was sitting beside him with his tail tapping happily against the mattress. He smiles slightly and reached out to pet the dragon. "Hey," he murmured. "How late is it?"

Slyfeir made no indication he knew what had been said but he continued to tap his tail so Marik rolled his eyes before slowly getting to his feet. He was still dressed from his adventure the day before, even in his cloak, so he didn't have to change. The only thing he was really concerned about was Isis. He wanted to leave again; experience further excitement and thrills; and maybe...

Marik sighed with the blush blooming on his tan cheeks. In solitude and the relaxation of morning he could easily admit that his thoughts had been overrun by this... Thief he had met. He didn't even know why. Never before had someone invaded his mind to bring dreams of flying together and laughing in unison. In fact, Marik was sure he had never even had romantic fantasies before. And who was to blame him? It wasn't like he hated all his suitors (he actually quite liked a few of them) but none of them had made him feel good or felt 'right' to be with.

The prince sighed again. He felt really stupid for still believing in things like soul mates but he had always seen royal couples who came to visit and none of them seemed to really be happy. When he had been in the town yesterday he had seen plenty of happy couples, and they were all poor. He didn't know what else the difference might be aside from love.

Marik forced himself to change line of thought when he discovered a letter just under his door. The seal was blue wax with the shape of a dragon head in it. Unfamiliar as it was, his stomach dropped at it. With delicate fingers he flipped it over and stared at the front. There was no further indications of who the sender was.

The blonde boy carefully slid his finger under the seal to remove it from the paper before unfolding it. The inner side was marked by the sketchy outline of a similar dragon; painted with spread out lines of blue-white paint. Marik found it beautiful no doubt, but it didn't do anything to settle the sick bile rising in his throat. Under the dragon was fancy handwriting in dark blue ink that read;

Marik,

It has been some time since I received the news of your coming of age. As you probably know, this means suitors are vying for your affections and, eventually, your hand.

I have been invited by your sister, Princess Isis Ishtar, to entertain you a few days and possibly get to that point with you.

This morning I will be in the courtyard with Isis as she introduces me to your palace staff. I would be pleased if you could come as well.

Sincerely,

Prince Seto Kaiba

Bakura was asleep when Yami decided to go out to get food. He left the rug off so he could get back up, because his runs never took long and his lazy friend would probably still be asleep when he returned.

The market was very empty which the tanned man was glad for because he was not a people person in the morning, but even this early it was super hot so no wonder. He used some coins they had got awhile ago to buy the breakfast (he just wasn't in the mood for stealing right now) and stealing with less people would have been to obvious. He smiled at the girl as he left with the food in a basket. He didn't get far though because nearby a man with a huge turban on his head stopped him firmly.

"Do you want to buy some treasure?" He asked.

Yami stared at him; unsure if he should be friendly toward him or appalled. With a jerk back the stranger's hand fell off his shoulder. "No thank you." Was his answer.

He made to sidestep around him, only to be stopped again. "Take a look!" The man urged. Yami wanted to shove him but knew that'd get him arrested pretty quick. Instead he grudgingly turned toward the man's booth and scoffed at the cheap "treasure".

"This isn't very valuable." He stated as he ran a finger over a weird looking gold ball.

The turbaned man looked at Yami like he had said the God's weren't real. "Oh I disagree." The tri-colored hair moved as Yami glanced at the other end of the table and back to the man. He picked up a gold, thin ring that had several points hanging from it. A weird push force blew against Yami as if it was willing him away, but he couldn't help reaching out to it at the same time. His fingers brushed the metal smoothly and he almost shivered at the power pulsing through it.

The man smiled and said "It seems it means you to take it." Yami numbly nodded and grasped it when he held it out further before handing him some money in return. "Have a good day." The man continued.

As Yami made his way back home he couldn't help feeling a bit excited; the item itself seemed to be dragging him back towards Bakura. But it wasn't until he actually reached their floor that he felt it really start resisting him.

"Bakura!" He said loudly as he levered up into the hole in the floor. "Look!" He held the item toward his friend.

Bakura must have just gotten up because he was rubbing his eyes, but he perked up when he saw the ring. Yami grinned. "Have you seen this before? The man said it was treasure-"

The ring was snatched before he could finish his sentence, and carefully scrutinized by his grey eyes. "I feel like... I should have this." He responded in a mysterious tone.

Yami raised an eyebrow at the words. He had known Bakura long enough to know when he was joking and when he was serious; but this time.. Did he really think the object had a will of it's own?

A shiver went up his spine as he wondered if somehow ancient things were beginning to happen. For better or worse.

Okay, THIS is the chapter with the spiders Yami is afraid of... I just picture that for some reason xP

Idon't like this one as much but I honestly don't know why.. Anyway yeah enjoy! :3 next chapter coming soon. I have all the character stuff worked out and most the plot. Woo!