Duelist's Point
Chapter 26: Trust & Thievery

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"Are we really just going to lie here all day, Pharaoh?"

"Mmhmm," Yami said, arms behind his head as he gazed up at the sun, admiring the way its rays were so widespread and generous, shining across all the land.

"But this is boring," Bakura complained, shifting positions for the hundredth time.

"I have to wait for Mikaa, so that she can tell me how to save my partner."

"What if she doesn't come back?"

"She'll come," Yami said, making it sound as if she had no choice. "She'll want to beat me."

"Hmm," Bakura said in disinterest, closing his eyes.

"Excuse me," Yami muttered before disappearing into the bushes to do nature's business.

As if on cue, Mikaa swept into the clearly, landing swiftly on her booted feet.

"Hello," she said, smiling mischievously. Bakura didn't even deign to reply, merely raising an eyebrow from his spot on the ground and continuing to look bored. "Hasn't anyone ever taught you that it's polite to answer when spoken to?"

Ever defiant, he didn't even bother looking at her, instead turning his head to gaze at the bushes that Yami had disappeared behind, wondering what was taking him so long.

"He's a pretty one, hmm?" Mikaa said coyly. Bakura blinked—what? His confusion must have shown through onto his face, because she chuckled. "Powerful men are so attractive, don't you agree?"

He snorted, veiling the part of his brain that silently agreed. "Sure, if you're into arrogant, haughty rulers."

She laughed, the sound as hard as the clang of metal against metal: "Oh, you have no idea…"

"You!" Yami's voice interrupted their odd conversation. "Let's resume our duel!" he said firmly, Duel Disk on and dueling deck within its designated slot within seconds.

Mikaa twirled a raven strand of hair around her finger, tapping her foot on the ground impatiently. "I don't think so, spirit. I'm bored of that game. Let's play with real magic instead," she proposed, eyes glowing and pulse rising in anticipation, despite her brother's allegations that sorcery was her weakness.

"Coward," Yami growled. "You won't play me because you know that I'll win. So how about let's save time and you just tell me where Pegasus is keeping my partner?"

She hissed, lunging at him and grabbing him by the buckle around his neck and lifting him up off of his feet. "I am not a coward," she snapped. "I lead hundreds of soldiers into battle daily. I am a Commander."

"And I was a pharaoh," Yami said steadily, although his breath become shallower.

"Ah, I see what you mean about arrogant, haughty rulers," Mikaa smirked, glancing at Bakura. Yami looked incensed.

"Let me go and tell me where my partner is," he demanded, grabbing her wrist to throw her off. But her iron grip held fast. She yanked him into her personal space, glaring at his eyes.

"Same deal as before, fire-hair. Let's see if you're as good at magic as you are at a stupid children's card game," she said before throwing him down to the ground. He groaned in pain but forced himself up to stand on his feet.

Bakura chuckled as Yami's game face surfaced—confident, arrogant, and perceptive. "Wrong choice of words, girl," he snickered, waiting for the explosion.

"One," Yami growled, "it's not a stupid children's card game." He cupped his hands around the Millennium Puzzle, his Third Eye glowing on his forehead in sync with the golden artifact. "And two—any challenge is a game. And I always win games!" he shouted, a jet of dark energy shooting from the palm of his hand.

Muttering quickly under her breath, Mikaa dodged the stream of magic only to produce her own red pulses of energy, which she shot directly at Yami.

"Shock, defense, debilitation, assault," she muttered under her breath between chanting spells, remembering the magic lessons she had received as an adolescent. But Yami didn't have the luxury of a variety of spells, merely focusing on deflecting and hitting Mikaa by melding the darkness he channeled from the Realm of Shadows into different forms.

"Just surrender, Little Pharaoh!" she shrieked as she blocked a stream of black lightning, wings folded behind her back to save energy as she focused on debilitating Yami. Yami rolled on the ground to avoid an especially jagged surge of crimson, eyes narrowed in concentration.

But when he looked up, Mikaa's hot magic had paused, and he was preparing to deflect a surprise attack when he saw that Mikaa was being restrained—by Bakura?

The former tomb robber had caught her unaware, in the midst of focusing on the spells, and had managed to shove her onto the ground and pin her down. His dagger glinted at her throat. "Tell us where Pegasus has taken the Pharaoh's useless group of friends," he said calmly.

She spat in his face and slipped out from underneath him as he recoiled, and then she tackled him in turn, the dagger trading hands as she held it across his throat. "You have made a fatal mistake, snow-hair. Physical combat is my forte," she murmured, eyes appearing positively delighted by the turn of events.

"Leave him alone," Yami demanded from several feet away. "This is between you and me, Mikaa."

"Aww, you mean, you don't care about him even though he tried to help you?" she mocked. Guilt and doubt filled Yami's eyes, and Mikaa smiled at the tiny victory. "Do you care about him at all, fire-hair? 'Cause it would be so, so easy to just slit his throat right here and now… Unless you came with me quietly, of course."

"No!" Yami shouted, panic flooding his system; he willed it down—he wasn't here to be scared! He was here to save his friends, and he was damned if he was going to let Pegasus's servants deter him from his task.

"No what?" she purred, a predatory grin spreading across her face. Bakura struggled against her, bucking, but her weight was relentless. Her clothes hid her muscled form, and Bakura's body was still part-Ryou. He cursed himself for not building up Ryou's physique. "I'm getting impatient, Earthling. If you don't make up your mind, I'll just kill him."

"You wouldn't," Yami said to stall for time and see if he could save Bakura without turning himself in.

Mikaa's eyes flashed malevolently. "I won't if you come with me. I've killed thousands in battle, Pharaoh. I won't hesitate to kill one more."

"Get the hell off of me, you foolish woman," Bakura growled, having had it with the two talking as if he wasn't there.

"Shush, snow-hair," she said, glaring and lowering the knife to press closer against Bakura's throat.

"No! Leave him alone!" Yami shouted, not knowing what to do. "I'll come with you."

"You idiot!" Bakura hissed. "I can always come back. Go save your precious little partner."

"No. I gave my word that I would help you," Yami said steadfastly, reclaiming himself. "I can't help you if you're dead, can I?"

"Don't be a fool, Pharaoh," Bakura replied, meeting his eyes levelly.

"I'm not," Yami said confidently, and something about his stance told him that there was more to the situation than Yami was revealing. Could the Pharaoh possibly want to be captured? How stupid could he be?

"Make up your mind," Mikaa snapped impatiently.

"I'm coming with you."

Bakura remained silent, hoping that Yami knew what he was doing.

"Good, Earthling. Good choice." Mikaa muttered a spell and shot twines of red magic at Yami, who shouted in surprise as his body was lifted into the air and bound. Leaping off of Bakura, Mikaa laughed in triumph.

"Much too easy," she gloated, unfolding her wings. "It was fun playing with you, snow-hair. Until we meet again." She saluted him mockingly and leapt up off the ground, tugging Yami after her.

"I trust you!" Yami shouted as he was yanked ungracefully into the air.

"Shut up, Pharaoh!" Mikaa yelled, binding his mouth with the magic ropes.

From the ground, Bakura watched helplessly as Yami let himself be captured.

"What the hell is on your mind, Pharaoh…" he muttered in confusion. "'I trust you'? To do what?" He sighed, feeling considerably lonelier now that Yami was gone. Although the Pharaoh was more than irritating at times, his presence had been a welcome change after over 3,000 years of being alone in everything he did. It had been nice being around someone who didn't fear him, and last night… Last night had been almost enjoyable, even though Bakura would never admit it aloud.

He sighed, gazing at the now charred campsite. His clothes had been disturbed during the battle, but they looked dry. Removing the Pharaoh's cape from his shoulders, he put his clothes back on.

"The idiot forgot his stupid jacket…" he mumbled, turning the fabric over in his hands. "Now that he's run off to save his stupid friends, does he actually expect me to return it to him?"

Bakura glanced up at the sky and then at Pegasus's castle, toward which Mikaa had taken Yami. The wind blew through the forest, and the blue cloth fluttered in his hands.

"Fine," he grumbled, "it's not as if I have anything better to do."

Quelling the obnoxious click of his shoes on the stone floor, Pegasus crept into the room in which Celestine had placed the bodies that housed the souls she had trapped within her Gameboard. On the ground, laying side-by-side, were Yuugi and his friends. A smirk rose upon Pegasus's face—this was much too easy.

He stepped around the bodies to reach the backpack next to Yuugi, which clanged as he lifted it upright. Aha. Unzipping the bag, he found the Millennium Rod and Millennium Tauk nestled between a jacket and a pair of pajamas. He chuckled and took them gleefully. Eyeing Yuugi and the Millennium Puzzle that lay on his chest, Pegasus tugged at the hands that kept the Puzzle within its grasp, but they refused to budge.

I'll just win it from him and that spirit, Pegasus thought, turning to Ryou, who he recognized with slight apprehension. After finding nothing of note in his bag, he searched the body and found his good ol' Millennium Eye—which he pocketed—and the Millennium Ring. His intention to slip the cord from Ryou's neck failed as the gold pointers embedded themselves into the boy's skin. Pegasus dropped the Ring with a clatter, shuddering.

Lastly, he turned to Anzu and Mazaki, whose identical pendants hung around their necks. He slipped these from around their necks without much trouble, smiling triumphantly as they fused back into one.

Satisfied, he stepped back out to the hallway, prizes in hand.