A/N: More reunions ahoy! I'm nervous about these two - I always feel less comfortable with tendershipping and bronzeshipping, not sure why. I really hope they came out the way that I wanted them to. Enjoy!

Note: It's November and y'all know what that means. NaNo is on. I'm going to try to be faithful with updates but if I can't, you've got fair warning.

Early that morning, Edina came to their door and woke Ryou from a restless sleep. He sat up as Malik sent his aunt away and looked around blearily. Their room had been a lot more comfortable than he'd been expecting but he hadn't been in a position to really enjoy it. Even though they'd gone to bed early the night before, he still felt tired as he clambered out of bed and got dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Malik seemed to be feeling the same way; he was unusually silent and closed off as he brushed his hair and put on a few of the gold pieces he occasionally favored wearing. Ryou wanted to talk to him but he didn't know what to say, so he stayed silent.

Breakfast was a somber affair in spite of how hard Edina strove to be cheerful. Eventually she gave up and contented herself with eating. Yuugi, Malik and Ryou picked at theirs, and even Jou, who could normally eat no matter what the occasion, only managed a few mouthfuls before pushing his plate away. At last Edina sighed and shook her head. "Well, you know that we're going to do it today so we might as well talk about it. Yuugi, have you got your card handy?"

Yuugi nodded and took out the Scroll of Shadows. He always carried his cards with him if at all possible. "Are we actually going to be using this?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yes. Don't worry: I expect that Hafiz did, too. He wouldn't have possessed enough magic to be able to use the spell without having something like the card as a guide." Edina took the card and pinched it between two fingers, a thoughtful frown on her face. "We've got the ritual mostly set up. All that's left is to enact it and we can do that at any time." She glanced up at them. "If it's all the same to you, let's not wait. I don't think Hafiz should be left in the past alone any longer than necessary."

"That makes sense," said Jou. "How will you…?" He trailed off and gestured towards the card.

Edina smiled at him and stood up. "Follow me." She took them deeper into the hotel and then up two flights of stairs until she pushed a door open and sunlight flooded in. They were standing on the roof, Ryou realized. Candles had been set up around the perimeter, spaced evenly about two inches apart. There was a smaller circle of candles in the middle. Edina moved over and set the Scroll of Shadows down in the middle of that circle. "The four of you will stand around this circle. Whatever you do, don't move, understand? Yuugi, you're here. Jou you're to his right, and then Malik and Ryou." She watched as they moved into their assigned positions.

Behind Edina, the door opened again. Five figures dressed in cloaks, their faces shadowed by hoods, emerged and took up positions around Yuugi, Malik, Ryou and Jou. It was impossible to tell who they were. Kaiba Noah followed them out and stood beside Edina. He nodded at Jou, who nodded back. Edina said, "While we're casting the spell I want you to think very carefully about your other halfs. Focus completely on them and don't let yourself consider anyone or anything else. Think about how much you want to be with them again. Let your magic bubble up inside of you." Her voice was very soft, almost seductive, and easy to listen to. "Feel how much it wants this. Let your fears and anxieties about what's going to happen float away."

The five people standing around them began to chant in a language unfamiliar to Ryou. He closed his eyes and realized that he really did feel like he was floating. The pressure of the hot sun beating down on his shoulders eased: the heat turning into more pleasurable warmth. Even the hard surface of the roof underneath his feet seemed to be softening, shifting into something that was more difficult to catch his balance on. The chanting with Edina's voice rising above it seemed to be the only thing that he could hear, until even that faded away. There was a cool feeling running through his veins, like his blood had been replaced with a liquid that made him feel lighter than air, as though there was nothing tying him to the Earth any longer.

Slowly, though, everything came back. The sun suddenly seemed to be much hotter than it had been before and he could practically feel it starting to burn his pale skin. He took a deep breath and frowned when unfamiliar scents met his nose. He opened his eyes and looked around, realizing that the rooftop had disappeared and so had his friends, Edina, Noah and the chanters. Now he was standing in the middle of what appeared to be a market of some kind. There were all sorts of people bustling around him, most of them wearing clothing that was utterly unfamiliar to him.

"Oh my god," Ryou muttered, stunned. "It worked." For a moment he felt elated, but all too quickly reality set in. He was in Ancient Egypt, alone, with no sign of his friends or Bakura, and there were a few people who were eyeing him with far too much interest. Suddenly aware of the fact that he had a solid gold piece of jewelry hanging around his neck, Ryou slipped the Ring inside of his shirt so that it was resting against his bare chest. He'd be fucked if anyone stole it from him.

But he had no idea what to do next, and this was incredibly disorienting. Ryou stepped back, trying to calm himself, and stumbled when someone jostled against him. The man gave him a cross look. "Watch where you're standing," he snapped.

"Oh, sorry," Ryou answered automatically before realizing that he'd understood the man. Was he speaking Ancient Egyptian? Was that part of the spell that Edina and the others had cast? He rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache, and wished more than anything that his elusive other half would appear in front of him. "Bakura, where are you?" he muttered to himself.

Unfortunately Bakura didn't magically appear, but something did happen in response to his question. Underneath his shirt, the cones of the Millennium Ring prickled against his skin. Ryou jumped and pulled the Ring back out, watching in amazement as one of the cones lifted and pointed straight ahead. He looked up, searching the bustling crowds for any sign of… well, anything, but there was nothing familiar. But he remembered the last time they'd used the Millennium Ring to track the other items. It had been exactly like this. Did Bakura, or the thief king, have the Millennium Ring of the past already?

Ryou's face split into a brilliant smile and he took an eager step forward, his eyes locked onto the Ring. Whenever it changed direction he followed, setting him on a complicated route that led him down dark alleys and out onto the crowded main path at different intervals for a good fifteen minutes. Sometimes he was convinced he was walking in circles but the Ring remained resolutely pointing forward. Finally, when the cone trembled and then fell limply against his chest, he stopped walking and glanced up.

And there he was. The Thief King was wearing a hooked cloak that shielded his hair and face, but Ryou could tell it was him. Something tense that had been building in his chest finally broke apart and he had to grab at the stall next to him to keep from falling to his knees in sheer relief. When the man moved on, Ryou followed, keeping far enough back to avoid notice but staying close enough not to lose sight of him - or so he thought. When he turned a corner and found himself on the outskirts of the market with no sign of the thief, his heart sank and actual tears formed in his eyes. The loss was staggering. Or maybe that was the hands on his shoulders, forcing him to his knees.

"Who are you?" a rough, familiar voice growled into his ear. "Why are you following me?"

"I needed to talk to you," Ryou replied, unable to keep his voice from shaking. He wasn't frightened: even though the man behind him wasn't Bakura, not yet, Ryou knew that the thief would never hurt him. Even the pressure on his shoulders was oddly gentle. "That's why I was following you. My name is Ryou."

Just by the split second pause, Ryou knew that the thief didn't recognize him or his name and that he didn't know who Ryou was. That hurt and it took valiant effort to keep his breathing calm as the thief stepped around in front of him and knelt, allowing Ryou to get his first good look at the man who would some day become his other half. The hair was noticeably darker, almost a gray-violet, and his eyes were pale lavender. His skin was deeply tanned, covering lean muscles, and there was a wicked scar on his cheek, starting just under his eye and travelling down across the curve of his cheekbone to end near his jaw. Without thinking Ryou reached up and out. The thief tensed and Ryou paused, uncertain, before he let his hand cup his cheek, rubbing gently over the scar.

"What happened?" he asked. "Who did that to you?"

"A merchant that I stole from when I was a child," came the quiet response. The thief was studying him intently, a frown on his face. "The traditional punishment would be to cut off a hand but his wife seemed to think that since I was so young I didn't deserve something so harsh."

Ryou smiled wearily. "I'm sure she lived to regret that," he said. He didn't want to let go and it was with obvious reluctance that he let his hand drop back down into his lap. "What's your name?"

"You were following me and you don't know my name? You're braver than I thought. Or stupider."

A scowl crossed Ryou's face. "I know exactly who you are. I just don't know your name." Bakura, who remembered everything about his past life, probably would have told him if Ryou had ever thought to ask. But it hadn't occurred to him to press for details about the life of the thief king. He hadn't believed that there would ever be a reason for him to need to know.

"Akefia," he said simply.

"Akefia," Ryou repeated, tasting the unfamiliar syllables. It fit. He shifted on the sand, wiggling to find a more comfortable position, but it was impossible. "Can I stand up now?"

Looking amused, Akefia nodded and rose himself. Ryou got his hands underneath him and stood up, automatically dusting off the knees of his pants. The movement caused the Millennium Ring to bounce against his chest and Akefia's eyes were drawn to it immediately. He grabbed the cord, his fingers inches away from the gold, and Ryou froze as the Ring sang in the back of his mind. His knees buckled and he caught himself on Akefia's arm, clinging to the thief to keep from falling. Akefia froze at the touch but surprisingly he didn't move away, just allowed Ryou to re-orient himself, and it was so familiar a scene that Ryou laughed. No, not laughing, he was crying, the tears falling down his face.

"Oh god," he said, hiding his face with his free hand. "Oh hell I've missed you so much."

There was a strange look on Akefia's face and he stared at Ryou hard. "You know me," he said with a tone of dawning understanding. "Who are you? Where are you from?"

Ryou swiped uselessly at the tears and looked up at him. "I'll tell you everything, just not here," he replied. They were still out in the open and he was very conscious of the fact that anyone could sneak up or eavesdrop on them, and this was information that could be very dangerous in the right hands. "Do you have somewhere that we can go where no one else would be able to listen?"

Akefia nodded and took hold of Ryou's wrist. "Let's go."

STGY

When Malik opened his eyes it was because someone - or something, as the case turned out to be - was licking him very passionately on the face. He let out a very dignified squeal at the sight of a horse standing over him and scrambled up and away, one hand haplessly outstretched in an effort to keep from being eaten alive. The horse just stood there and watched him calmly, tail flicking lazily. Hearing the sound of laughter, he turned, intending to yell at whoever had been watching. The words caught in his throat when he realized who it was and he ended up silent, lips parted and brain frozen.

"Don't you like my horse?" the man asked with a smirk, sauntering closer. He was taller than Malik with bronzed skin and developed muscles on his chest and arms. Dark purple eyes glittered from underneath a shag of bleached blond hair, lightened by the blazing Egyptian sun. He put a soothing hand on the back of his horse and grinned. "He seems to like you."

"It's… not mutual," Malik said faintly, unable to keep himself from staring. "Who… who are you?"

"My name is Heru," he replied. "I'm a traveler. I found you passed out on the sands."

Instinctively, alerted by the half-smirk, Malik checked his pocket and discovered his wallet was gone. "You've been hanging out with Bakura for too long," he said, distinctly unimpressed. "I know you're no mere traveler, Heru. Now give me back my wallet."

Heru raised an eyebrow and looked amused. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I have this." Malik went to reach for the Rod and discovered that it was gone. A sharp bolt of panic flooded through him and he spun, eyes searching the ground desperately. Had it fallen from his clothing when he landed? Had someone stolen it? He patted his jeans frantically as though the Rod might fall out from some invisible pocket that he hadn't yet explored. His heart was pounding with fear by the time that Heru cleared his throat. When he looked up, he saw that the man was holding two Millennium Rods, and the resulting wave of relief was so strong he slumped to his knees. "Oh thank god."

"It's funny," Heru mused. "You knew I'd taken your wallet" he pronounced the unfamiliar word with a degree of disdain "but it never occurred to you that I might have taken this as well." He bounced one of the Rods gently, never taking his gaze from Malik. "I'll now ask the same question of you that you have already asked of me. Who are you and why do you have a copy of the Rod?"

"Not a copy," Malik mumbled, rubbing his head. He felt foolish. Mariku had always been so adamant about the Rod belonging to Malik that it hadn't crossed his mind that Heru might not feel the same way. He had to stop thinking of them as one and the same. At the moment they were, as far as he knew, two different people. "It's the real thing, just from a couple thousands years in the future."

Heru just looked at him.

Sighing, Malik stood up. He felt shaky and tired but he did his best to hide it. "Look, I'm from the future, okay? You're going to try to use the Rod and you won't be able to. You're a creature of the shadows and there's nothing to stop the Rod from overwhelming you and basically destroying you and the world." He glanced up at Heru. "The Pharaoh and the Thief King will have the same problem, and the Pharaoh's priestess will approach you and offer you to partake in a ritual of sacrifice. You're going to accept, you'll die, and then you'll be reborn and you meet me." He spread his arms. "I'm your hikari. Your light," he added when Heru frowned at the unfamiliar term. "The Millennium Rod belongs to me. Us. Both of us. I ground you so that you can use the power of the Rod."

"Interesting," Heru murmured, absorbing this flood of information silently. He looked pensive for a few seconds before he glanced up at Malik. "But crazy. What makes you think that I'll be willing to believe this absurd tale? How do I know that you're not a trap?"

"I'll prove it to you." Malik crossed the small gap between them, keeping an eye on the horse, and reached out. Heru stiffened but didn't move away, allowing Malik to curl his fingers around the edge of the Rod from the future. Carefully, Malik called to it, using the memory of liquid power to summon a fraction more. He had to bite back a smile when Heru jumped at the resulting flood of power that enveloped the both of them and only stopped when his head gave a painful throb at the pressure.

"The Rod has never done that before," Heru admitted and now he seemed to be fascinated by Malik. He reached out and touched Malik, roughly cupping his cheek and tilting his head up to get a better look. "But I sense there is more to the story that you're not telling me. If I have been reborn, as you say, then why are you here? Where is my future self? I find it hard to believe that he would let the Rod out of his sight."

"I don't know where he is." And that was hard to say out loud. Was Heru Mariku? It was true that he didn't feel so painfully lonely anymore, but he wasn't sure if that was because Heru really was Mariku or because he just wanted it to be true so badly. He touched his chest, unconsciously rubbing, and never noticed the way Heru's eyes dropped to watch. "We were fighting someone, an enemy of ours, and he cast a spell. We don't know exactly what it did but my other half disappeared along with the others."

"The others? There are more?"

"Well, yes. I told you that the Pharaoh and the Thief King had the same problem as you," Malik replied. "They were reborn, too, and they met their other halfs." He smirked. "You're actually friends with the Pharaoh in the future, you know."

Heru looked revolted. "I am? Why?"

Malik laughed and felt a tight knot in his chest start to loosen. "I don't know. You like him. Both you and Bakura seem to gravitate naturally towards him. He was kidnapped at one point and the two of you didn't seem to know what to do with yourselves." He paused, his amusement vanishing at the memory, and when he continued his voice was a little more subdued. "I'm telling you the truth, you know. I'm not sure if you're my other half or if you're just going to be him some day but either way you're in danger. Someone is going to try to kill you soon and I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen."

"I can take care of myself," Heru pointed out.

"Not in this you can't. The man who's trying to kill you is from the future. He knows exactly how this is going to play out." Perhaps it was the desperation in Malik's voice, or possibly the fear he knew was written all over his face, but he thought that he could sense Heru weakening and he pushed his advantage. "Please. Just… let me come with you, okay? I'll prove it to you that what I'm saying is the truth."

"You are very interesting," Heru said slowly, thoughtfully. It was impossible to tell what thoughts were passing through his mind and that was hard for Malik, who was used to being able to read Mariku like a book. He shifted uncomfortably and squeezed his fingers into fists, wanting nothing more than to throw himself into Heru's arms. That was the biggest difference so far and it was disorienting; Mariku never went so long without touching him in some way. He was a very hands-on kind of person, at least when it came to Malik, and to have even a few inches of space between them was jarring.

"Please," he found himself saying in a low, tiny voice, filled with pleading. There were all kinds of ways that he could have ended that sentence and all of them caught in his throat. Please don't leave me here. Please don't die. Please give my other half back to me. Please understand.

After what seemed like a solid hour of debating, Heru gave a nod. "Very well. You may come along with me until I decide whether or not you are telling the truth," he said. "Either way you seem to know a lot about me and I can't just let you go." He gave Malik a sharp look and Malik suddenly remembered his blithe dismissal of Heru's story about being a traveler. A cold prickle of not quite fear hit him and he swallowed, wondering if he had been wise to show his hand that early. Heru was dangerous in a way that Mariku wasn't and he had to remember that.

Heru moved over to his horse and drew a hand down its flank. He mounted easily, slinging one leg over the broad back with the ease of someone who has been doing it for years, before he turned an expectant look onto Malik. He received a look of complete disbelief in return. "You have got to be joking," Malik said. The only thing he was interested in having between his legs was a motorcycle or Mariku. The idea of getting onto a horse, something living that was outside of anyone's control, was a fear he hadn't realized he possessed until now.

"If you want to come this is the only way," Heru said, smirking. "Come on." He held out a hand. Malik hesitated for a long moment before he sighed and stepped closer, reaching up to tentatively take it. Heru effortlessly pulled him up, setting Malik down in front of him. His thighs were on either side of Malik's hips, with his arms spanning Malik's waist to hold the reins. It wasn't the world's most comfortable position and it made Malik remember, with a flush of discomfort, riding on a motorcycle with his arms wrapped around Mariku. This felt just as intimate, only in a different way.

"Where are we going?" he asked. There was no where for him to put his hands, he noticed. He settled for clasping them in his lap.

"To meet with the thief king," Heru answered, squeezing tightly with his legs at the same time that he gave the reins a neat little jerk. The horse leapt forward and Malik was left without enough breath to ask any more questions.

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