This time I'm ready for him. I'm in France now, and I'm sure that he's somewhere nearby. He must be; he's been appearing everywhere I go, so I'm sure that he's lurking somewhere around. He still follows me, even after my attempt to chase him down in London.
I have to be on my guard now, because he's becoming more subtle in stalking me than before. Now, the only glimpse I can get of his is just that: a glimpse. I can't see more now than a head of white hair in a huge crowd or a swish of his coat in dark alleys. It's absolutely obvious that he's following me now, although I have no clue as to why he's been avoiding me. Why would he want to follow me, if not to talk to me? We haven't exchanged any words at all since we met again at the game shop on that rainy day.
Speaking of rain, I can feel a few drops starting to fall on face. Just perfect. The crowds around me in the street are starting to thin out as the rainfall increases into a downpour. In a few seconds, I'm the only one standing in this desolate street. I don't mind, though. I'm used to being alone.
"Why stand in the middle of the street, Pharaoh? I thought you didn't like the rain."
I whirl around, turning to the familiar voice and ancient language. He's standing right behind me, in the middle of the street. How long has he been standing there?
"As I recall, you're not so fond of the rain yourself," I reply.
"Yes, but the rain drives everyone away. We're the only ones here, if you haven't noticed, Pharaoh."
"I'm tired of this, Bakura," I glare at him, "Tell me: what are you trying to do?"
"Do? I've given up doing things a long time ago." He sighs, and an almost wistful look crosses his face, but only for a second until his face is back to an indifferent line.
"Why are you following me?"
"That is for me to know, Pharaoh." He turns to leave, but I'm feeling a bit unnerved at this. Three decades of following me around, and that's all he has to say?
"Bakura, don't you dare leave!" I shout over to him.
"Oh?" he says, turning his head slightly to look at me over his shoulder, "And why not?"
"Because you've been following me for decades, and I want some answers."
"You're not going to get them from me, Pharaoh." He states calmly. He starts to walk away, but this has gone far enough for me. I dash up to him, turn him around, and hold him in place. I'm sure that he could break free of me in a heartbeat, but he doesn't even blink at my action.
"Bakura, I want to know what's going on."
"You will, in time."
"That's not good enough," I growl loudly, shaking him. "You've been stalking me ever since we met in Japan. Dammit, Bakura, what the hell are you doing?!"
"Look," he snaps, pulling himself away from me, "Maybe I just got lonely."
"Lonely?! If you're just lonely, why did you run away from me in London?"
"It's not that simple—"
"You talk to me about simple?" I growl, "Bakura, ever since I found out I was somewhat of an immortal, my life has been anything but simple! I've been chased out of towns, persecuted by villagers, and forced into isolation, and you complain that your life isn't simple?!"
"I never said my life wasn't simple, I said my reasons were," he glowers at me, "In case you haven't noticed, Pharaoh, the three thousand years haven't exactly been a walk in the park for me, either. So I suggest you keep your mouth closed."
"Look, neither of us has had it easy, and we'll just make it worse if we start bitching about who has it the worst. I asked a question, and I expect an answer. And now would be nice." I say firmly.
"Very well," he hesitates for a moment, before continuing, "Three thousand years is a long time."
"You think I don't know that," I fume.
"Hold your tongue, Pharaoh. I'm not done."
"Then continue."
"Three thousand years is a long time," he repeats, "A long time even for a loner, like me. I've almost gone crazy these past few years."
I open my mouth to agree, but think better of it and shut it again.
"So, I went back to Japan. And I found you. You were like me: depressed, lost, alone in this modern world. You even look like me now," he motions to our identical black coats, "I decided the only way to keep sane would be to follow you."
"You just about drove me insane."
"Heh, it was worth it to see you sweat. It sounded like a perfectly reasonable thing to do, at the time. And it was very entertaining," he smirks.
"Why didn't you talk to me, or even answer when I called you in London?"
"We're cursed souls, Pharaoh. What would it accomplish, if you and I were to talk? This conversation right now will have absolutely no significance in the infinite eternity. You yourself must have realized just how long that will be."
"But why not talk to me, even if it won't have significance?"
"Us talking will change nothing, Pharaoh. We're cursed to wander until the end of time! Why would I bother myself talking to you?"
"Why not, if it would kill time?"
"You still don't get it, do you, Pharaoh?" he sighs.
"Don't get what?" I narrow my eyes at him.
"You'll find out soon enough."
"You mean that you're not going to tell me now," I infer.
He nods, and turns to leave once again. "Although..."
"What?"
"I'll tell you this, we have more in common than you or even I realize. We'll meet again, Atem."
He dashes away, disappearing through a curtain of dark rain. I watch him leave, reflecting on our conversation. He said we would meet again... and, he called me Atem.
Without another word, I also turn and disappear into the darkness of the pouring rain.
Well, I still haven't revealed Bakura's true motives, but I won't get around to that until later into the story. Please review. Ja!