The Arrival

Denia, Spain. March 23rd, 20xx

The warm evening sunlight streams down upon the residents of Denia, blessing them with mild weather and making it feel as though time itself were standing still just for them. Bakura stretches, enjoying the languid motion for a moment, before allowing his arms to fall back to his sides as he continues walking down the narrow streets. As he wanders down the cobblestone street, he appraises the cheerfully colored buildings and the similarly dressed residents, allowing the sight to help cure some of the jet lag from yesterday's long plane ride. It had been relatively easy to get a flight here, but he still wasn't used to flying in those cursed planes quite yet.

"Hey, Akefia? I have a question."

"What is it now, Ryou?" He growls into the mind he shares with his host as he glances around and starts to slow down. He was getting somewhat towards the edge of town, as the number of people and shops had gone down, leaving only the rural tangle of houses and a few residents milling about.

"Why did you have to start here of all places? I mean, this place is so small and remote, a completely peaceful place. You could enjoy life for once… or if you are set on destroying lives, you could go to a more populated city instead." Somewhat irritated that his host had more to say on the matter than just a single question, Bakura pretends to yawn as he continues on his way. He spots a blond woman walking down an empty side street with her back to him, and he steps back to study her for a moment. He feels a smile crossing his face as he starts after her, his hand itching for the handle of the knife he kept strapped to his hip under his shirt.

"You think far too much on the subject of me killing mortals, Ryou. That's an excellent way to go insane. When you think about it a little more, a quiet little town like this is a perfect place to start. The almost non-existent crime rate means that the charming residents wouldn't even dream of a monster like me being in their midst. It'll be more shocking to the public eye once someone is murdered violently, and it all starts with this woman." He lengthens his stride to keep his sights set on the woman walking in front of him, but far enough away so that she isn't alerted to his presence. The thrill of the hunt starts pumping his veins full of adrenaline, and he walks faster as his hand strays under his shirt to caress the handle of his knife. Closing the distance between him and the woman a little more, he can muse over her appearance. I'm lucky tonight, Ryou… This woman is most assuredly an American tourist.

"What makes you say that, Akefia?" As his host speaks, the woman he was stalking slows down, forcing Bakura to slow down in kind to avoid detection.

"The amount that you don't see or think about never ceases to irk me, Ryou. Just look at her! While she is as tanned as any of the residents here, it's not the right shade, suggesting that she is foreign or spray-tanned. The locals all have brown or black hair, but she is sporting a messy platinum blonde that suggests it could be bleached. And only an American woman would be bold enough to wear men's clothing to a country where the women dress in conservative, colorful dresses and skirts." Bakura frowns as he notices the continued decrease in houses as the street winds its way down towards a small beach. Something was starting to bother him, an unsettling feeling that worms its way under his skin and starts killing the rush of adrenaline as he continues walking behind the woman. I wonder why a girl like her isn't going to a hotel or isn't in a bigger city.

Stalking after her for a few more yards, Bakura halts and scowls in frustration when he watches his prey unlock the door and then enter a rather sizeable house at the end of the street. He glances at the windows when a light comes on inside of the home, and his scowl deepens. "What's the matter, Akefia? I thought you wanted to kill her!" There was noticeable relief in his host's voice, something that Bakura decided to ignore as he continued hungrily looking at the house that had denied him his prey. "Of course, I still want to go through with that plan, but things have gotten just a little more complicated now that I know she isn't actually a tourist but is a resident here." He stalks over to a nearby light pole and leans his back against it to get a better look at the cheerful Spanish home. "But Akefia! You were so sure that she was an American tourist. What made you change your mind so readily?"

Bakura sighs at his host's lack of perception and takes a black leather case out of his shirt's breast pocket, and runs his thumb over its snap. "If you paid even the slightest bit of attention to the world around you, you would understand what I just said." Flipping open the case with a practiced flick of his thumb, he pauses to enjoy his host's quiet disgust and smiles to himself. He slides a slim black cigar from the case and pockets it again as he notes a light on in the house's second-story window. "I still don't see your point, Akefia." He sighs and slips the filter of the cigar between his lips, savoring the sweet spice of cloves on his tongue as he inhales the heady floral scent in the lovely evening air.

"Well, first of all, this isn't anywhere close to being a hotel, where no doubt a tourist would go if they booked a vacation… it's a house." He digs around in the left pocket of his pants and produces a slightly scuffed Zippo of burnished silver. He clicks open the top and flicks the wheel a couple of times until a flame sparks to life. Touching the flame to the tip of the cigar, he draws on it a few times before pocketing the closed Zippo and exhales a cloud of the rich, sweet smoke. "Secondly, this is a rather large home that boasts a strip of private beach belonging to just the owner of this home judging by the signs posted along the coast and the trail leading there." He takes a drag off of the cigar and inhales slowly to enjoy the feeling of the smooth smoke gliding down his windpipe. "Mmm, that's better. Now, it just doesn't make sense for some young American woman to buy a whole house just for a vacation or two in a small town where there is nothing of interest to do. If it's a friend or boyfriend's house, then I almost pity her in a way. It doesn't matter how small the town or how safe the streets are; a friend or boyfriend worth their salt wouldn't allow a woman to walk alone at this hour.

His eyes are drawn back to the house when the lights inside shut off, prompting him to take another drag of his cigar before releasing the smoke into the air. "You're right, Akefia! It doesn't make sense at all now that I think about it."

"Precisely my point. Hmm… what makes this even stranger is that I get the feeling I have met her before. There is something so familiar about her, but I can't think of why and it's pissing me off." Bakura frowns as he tries to think about why the woman seemed so familiar to him, continuing to quietly smoke his cigar as the sun starts to fade behind the horizon and the metal light pole against his back starts to dig uncomfortably into his skin. He burns his lips on the flattened filter and snubs out the charred remains of the clove cigar while staring intently at the darkened house across from him, frowning as his memory draws a blank on who he thinks the woman is. "Bah, I'll figure it out tomorrow. Right now… Let us find a hotel for the moment and try and get some rest."

Ryou mutters a sleepy reply into their shared consciousness, and Bakura smirks as he pushes away from the light pole. He takes one last look at the darkened house that had denied him his first victim before turning to walk away into the falling night. Tomorrow, once I figure out who you are, I'm coming to kill you, wench!

?