The village of Deir el-Medina had long been in competition with Kuru Eruna, but ever since that town's untimely end, it had enjoyed a position at the top of tomb robbery. And now, especially that "Lord Thief King" Bakura had died, Deir el-Medina had almost more to rob than they could handle.
But the style of the robbery had changed. For Kuru Eruna, thievery had been an art, a skill honed to perfection, passed down through generations with zealous care. This came of having once been tomb builders—the trace of the craftsman clung doggedly to them.
Deir el-Medina viewed in this fashion: Me thief. You shiny. Me take. The village had, admittedly, also been craftsman. They had simply not been very devoted craftsman.
And that's why the boy had gone there. He was a boy of insatiable curiosity, as they say, and he wanted to pitch the two styles against each other. (He had been schooled in the Kuru Eruna fashion.) So when he saw a basket of onions lying on the ground, he purloined one.
Well, hardly purloined. It was, after all, a very small and scrawny onion. Hardly, really, an onion at all. And such a measly little onion could hardly be needed in such a big basket of onions—indeed, if they were to be sold, the mere presence of this shriveled thing might damage the selling power of the rest of the basket. He was shocked to find four more inferior onions, and promptly removed them. What an act of charity this was, to be sure.
It was equally sure that the owner of the basket did not take the same view. He had protested loudly, uncouthly, and unrefinedly, that the boy was a thief. (The boy kept his comments about the man's occupations strictly to himself—however, he highly doubted this was the first time the onion had changed hands.)
So now the village tough (whose thoughts went: Me big. You little. Me hurt.) was taking the boy out to Kuru Eruna, to leave him there. Deir el-Medina had a healthy fear of Kuru Eruna—even if the souls of the thieves did not wander there, it was probably bad luck to visit the scene of the disaster.
The boy was dumped on the ground of village, and before he could object, he heard an older boy's voice calling—
"Wait!"
The tough stared at the ghost (well, he assumed it was ghost), screamed out something unintelligible, and ran for his life, leaving the cart he had brought the boy in behind.
"I said, wait—you can't hear me anymore..." muttered the older boy. "Oh—hallo..."
The thief-child stared up at the older boy with an expression of awe. "You—you came back from the dead!"
"...I did?"
"YOU DID!"
"...Look, I really think you—"
"I told them all you wouldn't die, and they mocked me. Ha!"
"—ve got me mixed up with some—"
"Oh, they'll get that laughter shoved right down their throats..."
"—one else. My friend is very—"
"...with a rotten lotus. Yes. I am truly worthy."
"—ill, can you come and see if he's...dehydrated or something?"
"Yes, my master!" cried the thief-child. "I hear and obey!"
Bakura—for that was the older boy—brought the thief-child to the collapsed body of Evil Bakura, bright red robe moving listlessly with the faint wind. The thief-child blinked at the red coat and white hair, then at Bakura, then back again.
"Who are you?"
——
"So," said Atemu, frowning at a small bug crawling on the floor beneath his feet. They had rented a room at an inn—omitting to tell the innkeeper that they had no money—and were currently reviewing their situation.
There was a pause as everyone waited for Atemu to continue.
"So...?" asked Tea.
"...We're stuck in Egypt," Atemu stated.
"Or," muttered Kaiba, determined to propose an alternative, "we're on a really big movie set."
"This isn't a movie set—I mean, there aren't any cameras—" began Yugi.
"Hidden."
"—and I doubt," he continued, "that a computer would suck us onto a movie set."
"Why?" asked Kaiba. "A computer could suck us into a million different places—if it's going to put us somewhere, why not a giant movie set? It's certainly bizarre enough..." He knew perfectly well they were in Egypt, but it couldn't hurt to say they weren't.
"As I was saying," Atemu started, loudly, "we are stranded in Egypt, approximately three thousand years ago. Currently, Bakura is missing from our group—nobody saw him, did they?"
They all shook their heads.
"So we need to get to our own time, and we need to find Bakura," stated Atemu. "Not in that order."
"And to get to our own time, don't we need to know how we got here?" queried Joey.
"Through a computer," Tea said automatically.
"No—I mean, who caused the computer to...mess up like that..."
Kaiba remembered the Lord Set Girl, then dismissed the idea. Considering that she had been barely strong enough to appear to him, she probably wasn't powerful enough to reach them through three thousand years and as many miles. Unless, of course, she'd been weakened from great exertion... Ha. Like that was possible.
"Bakura might be able to throw some light on it, if we can find him," mused Kaiba. "But if he can throw light on it, we might not find him."
"Wha?" asked Atemu, attempting to decipher that statement.
"Someone could be killing him to keep him quiet, genius."
"Then let's start looking for him," said Joey, standing. "I mean—Kaiba could be right, or he could be lost, or he could have money—"
"Just start looking," muttered Yugi.
——
"...do you understand?" concluded Bakura. The boy looked at him a for moment, bit into his onion, and stated:
"No. But—you aren't dead, which means that Thief King must not want you to be dead. Because if he did," the boy added, "you would be dead."
"...I see..."
"Though, to be honest, Thief King is looking somewhat dead... Actually, I shouldn't be talking much about death, should I? It makes them upset."
"Who?" asked Bakura. There isn't anyone in this freezing town...
"The ghosts," answered the boy. "They don't like strangers, either—but I'm not a stranger... Want a onion?" he added, finishing one.
"No thanks," said Bakura, faintly. He looked around for a sign of a ghost, but he didn't see anything very unusual. But it was still very, very cold... It had gradually gotten warmer, but it was still far cooler than any normal Egyptian village should be.
"I think he's coming around," the boy remarked. "Hello, master!"
"Master" stared—blinked—let out a groan...
"I missed you, master," said the boy affectionately.
"Aren't you dead yet?" demanded Thief.
"No. You missed me, too..."
"Sokkwi," muttered Thief. The boy—Bakura supposed his name was Sokkwi—smiled appreciatively.
"Want an onion?"
"No."
——
"No," snapped Kaiba. "We do not want your figs!"
They had split up—Kaiba and Tea going one way, Atemu, Yugi, and Joey going another. That way, at least one person in the group could speak to everyone around them. There were complications—such as finding clothes that melted in with the crowd, and disguising the three who did speak Egyptian. (This explained why there was a wet black fluid dripping from Kaiba's sloppily dyed hair.)
"But the figs," pleaded the dealer, "they are ripe, yes, so ripe..."
"What are you telling him?" asked Tea.
"I'm telling him to go die," said Kaiba. In Egyptian, he growled, "Let go of my arm!"
"The figs," continued the man, "they are tasty..."
"What is he telling you?"
"That he dislikes dying."
"Well, that's natural..."
Kaiba shook the dealer off, and Tea studied Kaiba's face for a moment. "I think it might have been wiser to wait for that ink to dry... You look sort of like a renegade scribe, or something."
"It wasn't my idea to run off and search the world for Bakura on a hot Egyptian day... What are we looking for, anyway? It's not as though we can ask everyone if they've seen a boy with white hair."
"Perhaps," suggested Tea, "you could stand somewhere high up and scream: Boy with white hair missing—if found, please report to..."
He glared at her.
"Just an idea—I don't suppose there's any sort of Egyptian police station? No..."
"Anyway, there's someone else with white hair who isn't Bakura," said Kaiba. "True, she's not male, but anyone can make a stupid mistake..."
"Who is it?"
"I don't know her name—I met her outside the—"
Tea interrupted him, mind whirling. "There can't be that many white-haired Egyptians...I—I'll bet she's related to Bakura!"
"How can she be related to Bakura? Bakura's not going to appear for...two thousand eighty-three years! And he's not even Egyptian—"
"No, no—the other Bakura."
"What other Bakura?"
"The crazy one. Now, where did you meet her?"
"Outside the palace. Look, Tea—"
"Right!" She nodded. "Lead the way, Kaiba. It's time to make some progress. Let us return to the palace and ask some questions."
——
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Yugi for the third time.
"Of course it is," said Joey. "My ideas are always good."
"I really don't think attempting to rally the people to my banner is going to help much. Especially," added Atemu, "since I don't have a banner..."
"Technicalities, Yug', technicalities."
"I'm not Yugi," muttered Atemu.
"Sorry 'bout that... So, we need some cloth to make a banner. Do you have any clotheslines in Egypt?"
"Where do you think we got our clothes?" asked Yugi, fingering the ill-fitting clothes taken from...well, someone.
"Then the search is on."
Atemu draped a largish piece of cloth over his hair before searching. While it did little to hide the hair, he hoped to make it less conspicuous. Joey snatched the cloth off of his head, and waved it triumphantly.
"Behold your banner!"
"...It says absolutely nothing," growled Atemu. "Give me back my hat."
"Do we have any ink left over from dumping it on Kaiba's hair?" inquired Yugi. "I'm sure that Atemu can write out something inspiring, and then we'll have a banner."
"Give back my—"
"I think we do. And if we don't, we can always steal some more."
"The whole point of this was to find B—"
"I'll go find some ink," Joey said, and went off to do precisely that.
——
Aishisu sat in front of her fire, wondering why Set was suddenly so anxious to see into the future. Atemu had never been that worried about what was going to—
She blinked. Atemu? Shaking her head as if to clear it, she wondered where that name had come from. Wait...that was the name of Pharaoh Akumakanon's son. The one that died young, she believed.
She shifted her concentration back to the fire. Funny, how one's mind would make things up.
And slowly, she began to see forms taking place in the flickering blue flames.
.
"Do you have a brother?" Aishisu demanded.
"No," said Set.
"Then you have an impostor. The Necklace has shown him to me...and he's Trouble." She took a deep breath. "He will team up with Lord Thief King—"
"Lord Thief King Bakura is dead," snapped Set.
"No, he's not. He's alive and well, and he's in Kuru Eruna."
"We all saw Akumakanon get rid of him!" bellowed Set. He stopped speaking, puzzled. Why did he say Akumakanon? He had meant to say Atemu. Opening his mouth again, he tried—
"Akumakanon..." Frustrated, Set went onto another subject. "And didn't I give orders to have Kuru Eruna destroyed?"
"Yes, but the workmen..."
"Rebelled?"
"...starting tomb robbing themselves."
"This is ridiculous,"muttered Set. "I can't say Akumakanon, Lord Thief King Bakura is back from the dead, and I have an impostor who starts off work by falling into my potted plants..."
"You just said it," Aishisu pointed out.
"Just said what?"
"Akumakanon."
"I know. I can say Akumakanon—it's Akumakanon that I can't say..."
"But you just—"
"I know I just said Akumakanon! That's the point," snapped Set. "If I could say it, would I be saying Akumakanon? NO! Go away."
"Yes, my pharaoh," said a very confused Aishisu. She retreated into her room, and looked back at the fire. I don't suppose, she thought, that the Necklace can tell me if the Pharaoh is insane...
.
Set rubbed his forehead, feeling very tired. Perhaps a ride through the city would do him good—yes, a good ride through the city, with the populace bowing at his feet. Then he could get to work on forcing his mouth to say "Atemu".
He wondered why Aishisu hadn't noticed that he had said "Akumakanon" instead of "Atemu". Probably just worn out from seeing the future...
He strode off to request a horse.
.
"What," inquired a guard, "is your business at the palace?"
"An...ink delivery," said Kaiba, resisting the urge to rub the splotch of ink on his nose.
One of the guards, who was apparently practicing to be a stand-up comedian, started off on a joke about ink. He was silenced, and the first guard continued talking:
"I don't recall anyone ordering any ink."
Kaiba looked at him coldly. "I doubt that you are entrusted with a list of every delivery expected."
The comedian blinked. "Hey, you know, when he glares like that, this ink guy looks just like the Pharaoh!"
The first guard stiffened. "Are you the Pharaoh? Have you come to test our loyalty?"
"No—"
"See how well I am performing my duties, O Pharaoh!"
"I just want to deliver the ink—"
"What are they saying?" whispered Tea. "And why have they fallen flat on their faces?"
"They think I'm Set," said Kaiba. "And he's the Pharaoh, so..."
At this point, Set was getting on his horse and thinking about how relaxing this was going to be. He meandered towards the gate at a comfortable trot, thinking about trivial things such as dinner, the color scheme of his room, and how to get rid of Mana.
Then he saw Kaiba.
A pregnant silence followed, the two guards still prostrate on the ground, and Kaiba and Set both telling themselves this couldn't really be happening. Tea was completely lost, so she admired the horse.
The quiet was broken by Set's scream of—"Summon Ka!"
Kaiba and Tea bolted—in opposite directions.
——
"Spy goggles," Mokuba muttered, looking at the assorted items on his bed. "Check. Walkie-talkie—check. Other walkie-talkie—check. Water gun—check. Smoke screen—check. Laser-tag laser—check. Swiss army pocket knife—check. First-Aid Kit—check. Power Bars—check. Water bottle—check. Seto's briefcase—check. The Encyclopedia Britannica—check. Backpack—check."
He grinned in spite of his mission. Let the Boy Scouts beat this, he thought. I have everything I could possibly need to go help Seto.
Stuffing everything (excepting the briefcase) into his backpack, he walked down several flights of stairs to the garage. (Waddled, actually, might have been a more appropriate term, as he was quite overloaded.) The chauffeur was not available: and besides, no one used chauffeurs on top-secret missions. No, he'd have to get to Domino High on his own.
Getting onto a motor-powered scooter, he hesitated. Perhaps he should wait until nightfall, so that he was less noticeable. For moment he wavered, then rebuked himself. Did Seto, he asked silently, ever say "Oh, well, I know Mokuba's in the hands of some dastardly evil villain, but I really would much rather wait until it was dark to help him"? The answer was a resounding: NO, he did not. Seto would instantly run to help him, day or night, without bothering about being noticed. Should he (Mokuba) behave in any other manner?
No, no, a thousand times no!
With that inspiring thought, Mokuba opened the garage door, and zipped away, down the street, and to Domino High.
——
Really Short Egyptian Glossary:
Sokkwi—Egyptian name meaning "little fool". As can be gathered from the meaning, that is not this boy's actual name.
Somewhat Less Short Review Replies:
Cassie & Casie Lupus: I'm afraid I can't—this isn't an author insertion story. Also, the plot of this has a minimal amount to do with Atemu—though that may change in the revised version. Anyway, I'm very glad you enjoyed this, and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well.
Shibby-One: There will be scenes from the old Egyptian Chaos in this fic, and hopefully the ones you miss will be inserted. (coughs) Historically, this is still off...but so is Yu-Gi-Oh! for that matter (i.e., Mahaado has hair, and lots of it).
Greenwood Dancer: Yes. I end it there. I'm addicted to cliff-hangers. (Okay, so "addicted" is putting it very lightly...) Though I didn't update quickly, I hope this ended less evilly.
Yugiohchix2008: (grin) Thanks! (Fred... I wonder why he chose that name.)
Tyger and Darkdracofire: Sorry about the English names—I watch the dub, so I feel like I can't use the Japanese ones...for...some reason. (sweatdrop) But I'm quite glad that you like this story.
Chibi Kita: Spoilers, Kiita. Remember the spoilers.
kalania: Thanks!
Mouself: Augh... And you're on vacation now, too. Feh. Silly Mouself, always going on vacation when I need you to stay still. Anyway—writing spirits mine! (steals) Though...I want you to update... (debates this)
Mokuba's Official Glomper: I removed it myself—and I'm very glad you like this one. (is a happy Flaed)
Dragon Pearl1: Yup. (grin)
Hikarigirl18: How can you hope the ending changes when you didn't know how the other one was going to end?!
Tuulikki: (slaps the hand coming out from the computer) Bad computer, getting funny ideas from fanfics... Yes, monarchs would be quite expensive. But Egypt might be used to it, considering that the Pharaohs had quite a few sons running around. (Except for Akumakanon—and Atemu, who has no son at all.)
Yoko73: Perhaps Mokuba's intentions are becoming clearer—if not, well, there shall be more.
Erckie: (blink) You don't get it...and...it's funny? (confused) Glad you liked it, anyway...
Unrealistic: Hm... Electricity... I don't want it to turn into a clone of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, but perhaps it could be worked in. I'll try, anyhow. (Grin) I'm happy you liked this, anyway.
Vulpes: "Ryou?" was from the Thief himself. And yes, it's Kisara.
Alowl: Yup, it is.