Bakura: 0o; What, already?
WSJ: =3 *nods* Yes indeed! We'll be moving on to the modern era very shortly!
Hiei: *gags* Oh please, the horror of it all...
Kurama: *blinks* Hiei? What are you doing here?
Hiei: Hn. The ningen onna *points at WSJ* said I had to be.
WSJ: ^^ Yup! Hope all you people like this, it's the first real battle of the fic, and it's nearly twice as long as the other chapters, to boot! Reviews please everyone!!!
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO or YYH in any way, shape, or form. Kurama & Bakura's father, Silvanus, does belong to me though.
Mwahahahaha... Someone mentioned the Hunter being a doppelganger. No, the Hunter isn't, but I liked the idea, so....
And on a side note: WAI! I LOVE JIN!!!
Vocabulary:
Inari - the goddess that Kurama worships. She is, in fact, a Japanese kitsune goddess.
doppleganger - a mythical creature of a jell-like nature that can transform into a copy of virtually anything (although my version for this story does have its limits, as you'll see). A good example of a doppleganger is the Duel Monster's card Revival Jam, or the Jells from Monster Rancher.
ningen - Japanese - human, often used as a derrogitory term by demons.
(And, just to make sure we're all on the same level of thinking...)
Makai - the demon world, closely linked with Reikai
Reikai - the spirit world, closely linked with Makai
Ningenkai - the human world, loosely linked with Makai and Reikai
()()()()()
Like a Thief in the Night
Part One: Thieves of Makai
Chapter 3 -- The Thing That Is Mine
"The future is what you make it."
~(Unknown)
They travelled for almost three weeks straight, only stopping for a few hours a night to catch what sleep and/or food they could. Both of them felt the Hunter, knew who he was and knew his eyes were on them. Neither of them spoke of it, though. It wasn't like there was anything they could do about him. He would catch up with them sooner or later, although both thieves did their best to make sure it was 'later'.
Once, about three days deep into a forest, Bakura went off into the woods alone. A few minutes later Kurama, sitting by the small, smokey fire they'd managed to get going, heard a howl go up from quite close by. The kitsune knew about the Howl, the way that demon wolves and wolf-demons communicated amongst themselves. Within moments, several answering howls came from around them. It went on for quite some time, and at times was just one long howl voiced by all the wolves within a five mile radius. To Kurama it all sounded the same, but he knew that they were sending news. Kitsune and okami spoke the same base language when in animal form, and thus could speak to one another no matter what shape they were in, without having to resort to the Common Tongue spoken by all creatures in Makai and Reikai, which was quite like the Ningenkai language of Japanese. However, kitsune couldn't understand an okami's howls, and most of the time okami couldn't distinguish between the low, rolling purrs that kitsune used as their own form of private interspecies communication.
Kitsune and okami were alike in many ways, not the least of which were the canine characteristics of both, but just because two species are alike doesn't mean they get along. The two races had been at odds for as long as anyone could remember. The first recorded kitsune/okami war had been nearly a hundred thousand years ago, but there had been another three major ones since then. The first had been around 60,000 years ago, the second about 15,000 years ago, and the latest only a scant 2,000 years ago. Although Kurama had not yet been born, Bakura had participated in that war, although he refused to tell Kurama anything about it.
Partnerships and even matings between the species were rare, but did happen. The races were alike enough that occationally a kitsune who could howl or an okami with multiple tails did show up. Such pairings were usually looked down upon by both sides, if not attacked outright.
The one exception was Kurama and Bakura. They had been challenged a great many times in the past because of their heritage, but after several teams of assasins were sent packing, people stopped trying. 'They're good,' people would say. 'Best to leave them alone.'
And so usually, they were. At least for that reason.
Bakura came back an hour or so later, after the Howl had stopped. Kurama glanced up at him, and then tossed another stick into the fire. "Any news?" He made sure to keep his face and tone of voice bland.
Bakura grimaced. "There's a large pack of okami denning nearby, and they don't like you being here. We'll probably have to move on a little quicker than anticipated. I told them who we were, but they don't seem to care too much."
Kurama shrugged and brushed his hair back from his face. "I figured as much. Wolves are always so territorial."
Among a more normal group of kitsune and okami, this comment would surely have sparked a fight, but Kurama and Bakura had gotten over their racial differences several centuries ago and had moved on. You are what you are, and you get along with who you get along with, parentage aside. It had taken them considerably longer to get used to the fact of their brotherhood, which seemed a much stranger thing.
Their father, Silvanus, had been an earth sprite or, as they were more commonly called, a Terra Mage. He could control plants, manipulating them to his will, a powerful and rare skill that he had passed on to both his sons. Kurama's mother had been a kitsune girl of uncommon beauty, while Bakura's was an okami woman. Why Silvanus had been attracted to such vastly different lovers, no one could say. But no one could deny that Kurama and Bakura were their father's sons. Both shared his tall, lanky build and his pure white hair, a trademark that had earned him fear and respect in the criminal underworlds of Makai, Reikai, and even Ningenkai.
"Come on then," Bakura said, grabbing his small roll of possesions and tossing Kurama his. "Let's get the hell out of here."
Two days later, they had arrived.
The forest had given way abruptly to rocky hills, and it was among these hills that the cave where the Sennen Ring lay imprisoned was located. Bakura led his half-brother straight to it, although to Kurama all the hills and crags and caves looked the same. Both were restless, and in a hurry to finish this. They could feel the Hunter behind them, coming closer with every breath.
"How did you know your way here?" Kurama asked as the two of them crouched behind some boulders outside the cave. Neither of them had forgotten the monster that was supposed to guard the cave, and were going to keep a sharp eye out until night fell, when they would make their move.
Bakura was silent for a long while. "In Egypt, I played a Shadow Game and won, taking the Sennen Ring from the worthless fool of a ningen priest that held it. For a long, long time the Ring was mine. I spent all my time in those days plundering ningen tombs with an orphaned demon named Malachai, the both of us posing as humans ourselves. A lot of that wealth I still have, hidden in Makai. The pharaoh of the time had a good heart, but he was a simpering fool. I ran tracks around him easily. But then one day he changed.
"He wasn't a weak young boy anymore. Oh, he still looked the same on the outside, except maybe around the eyes, but he was strong now. Everyone noticed the change in personality, and all praised their now strong and wise pharoah. All but me. You see, the pharaoh hadn't just had a sudden change of heart. He'd been killed, and a demon had replaced him. Being demons ourselves, Malachai and I were the only ones who noticed the demonic aura around the pharaoh.
"He came after me, and I fled Egypt, leaving the Ring in Malachai's hands. I intended to return for it, as soon as the pharaoh grew tired of the chase, but he never has. You know the story from there on. Pharaoh abandonned his kingdom, the Sennen Items were sealed away, and pharaoh hasn't given me, us, a moment's peace since."
Kurama was nodding thoughtfully. "I wonder why he hates our family so much, this pharaoh-demon."
Bakura shrugged and shook his head. "Hell only knows. I haven't seen Malachai in years and years, so I assume he was killed off in some skirmish."
"I met him once, didn't I? On the short side, dark skin, black hair, lavendar eyes?"
Bakura nodded. "A long time ago, when you were barely twenty. That was the last time I saw him. But now, now I finally have the chance to reclaim what is rightfully mine."
"May Inari protect us," Kurama muttered. "Do you have any idea what sort of demon could be waiting for us?"
"No," Bakura said, frowning. "In Egypt the sorcerers could summon monsters out of stone tablets and have them do their battling for them. The pharaoh can summon monsters even without the tablets. It could be one of those, sustained for milleniums by the power of the Ring, but I doubt it. Most of the tablets were destroyed in the final battle over the possesion and sealing of the Items. That was right before I fled Egypt. No, I have no idea what Koenma's going to be throwing at me."
Kurama looked startled. "Don't you mean us?"
Bakura shook his head firmly. "No, I mean me. The Ring is my property, and any guardians are my problem. You are not to get yourself involved, do you hear me?"
"But-"
"No buts. I won't have you being hurt over my Ring. If things go wrongly, take the Ankh and escape, but do not interfere."
Kurama looked like he was going to argue, but sighed and bit back a retort. "Okay oniisan, whatever you wish."
Bakura winced. It was hardly ever that Kurama called him big brother, and usually it was when he was annoyed. "Kurama..."
"Look, I understand." Kurama said sharply. "The Ring is yours and if you get yourself killed it's no problem of mine."
"Otouto, don't be this way." Bakura growled. "We have enough troubles with the Hunter at our back. We can't be fighting now."
Kurama sighed deeply. "I know, I know. I'm sorry."
"So am I." Bakura said, nodding. He glanced up at the sun, which was sinking behind the hills. "Off I go. You can come and watch, but if I catch you trying to get involved I'll kick your butt."
Kurama nodded, and the two stealthily crept from their shelter, making for opposite sides of the cave mouth. Inside all was dark, but both of them caught the faint gleam of a fire or candle far back in the cave. They nodded at each other across the opening, their faces firmly set. From here on in, it was all professional.
Bakura led the way, sliding easily into the shadows as he crept down the narrow passageway, trying to avoid any clutter on the ground that he might accidently kick. Any noise could theoreticlly be the death of them both. Kurama followed him in, his vulpine pupils widening to almost enitrely round to let in extra light. Like a cat, Kurama's pupils were merely vertical slashes through his iris. The narrow tunnel continued for a few hundred feet, and the light continued to get brighter, until it was obvious that the light must mark the passage's end.
The thieves stopped in the shadows around the arched ending of the tunnel, peering out into the small circular room beyond. It seemed to be a crude copy of the circular shrine the Ankh had been in, all done in red rock and black obsidian. The alter stood at the center, carved from the very floor of the cave itself. On either side stood a tall candelabra burning black candles, looking quite out of place in the middle of a cave. The cave ended here, there was no other way out. No one was in sight. In the light of the candles, Kurama could just make out the same hieratic script that had been on the door to the Ankh chamber carved into the base of the alter. Or at least, he assumed it was the same script. To him it all looked like scribbles.
Bakura's eyes glittered in delight as he saw the Sennen Ring laying on the alter. No one besides Kurama was in sight. No guards, no demon guardian, no kaa beast.
Nothing.
Bakura stepped forward, a grin tugging at his features as he reached out a hand to take the Ring. Just as he was about to close his hand around it, he heard Kurama cry a warning from the entrance. The werewolf spun, drawing his sword and slashing out in one motion. His hand told him that he swung the sword and slashed the... the thing that had appeared behind him, but his eyes begged otherwise. The sword did cut through the thing, but it reformed itself, like jelly! Even after Bakura had cut clean through it! All the way in two!
The thing made a hissing sound and flowed backward, forming itself into something vaguely human in appearance, or at least it had two arms, two legs, and a head. It seemed to be made out of a jell/liquid sort of thing, but it was cloudy, giving it a sort of misty whitish look. As Bakura and Kurama watched, a sort of a face formed on the head. Or at least, there was something that looked like a nose, and two depressions where eyes should be, but there was no visible mouth. Or eyes either, actually, nor ears.
"What the hell is it?" Bakura yelped, fumbling for his sword, which he'd dropped in surprise at the sight of the thing. He looked at it and swore. The creature's insides must be some kind of acid, because it was beginning to corode his blade! He threw away the useless knife and ran a hand through his hair, pulling out one of his seeds. "That was my favorite sword, you bastard!"
"That was your only sword." Kurama called helpfully. Bakura hissed at him to be quiet, but in a moment they were both silenced as a strange gurgling, bubbling sound came from the creature. They realized it was laughing.
"Yes, most amusing,"
The voice arrived directly into their heads without bothering to go through their ears, and both thieves stared in surprise at the creature.
"I am the Guardian, the One charged with protecting this Sennen Item from unworthy hands. I'm afraid I shall have to challenge you if you wish to take this artifact."
"Take, my foot!" Bakura muttered savagely, fingering the seed in his hand. "The Sennen Ring is mine and always has been, ever since I won it from that fool, Mahaado."
"Ah, so you are the one called Yami Bakura, then." the Guardian said, a saticfied tone in its voice. "I was beginning to wonder if you would come. Even though technicly the Ring is yours, as you say, you shall still have to fight me for it."
Bakura groaned slightly. "And you're a doppleganger. I remember now, you're something that can be anything! How am I going to fight something like that?!"
There was a sense of amusement coming from the creature. "For this battle, I shall choose only one form and stay in it, if that pleases you. You may still change if you want, of course."
Bakura raised an eyebrow. This thing had been holed up here for how many thousand years, and it knew his name and that he was a werewolf?
"I know many things about you." it said, confirming Bakura's suspicions that it could read his mind, and probably Kurama's too. "And I truly am sorry about your sword. I really didn't mean to coat it in acid, you just startled me."
Bakura grunted. Great, a doppleganger with a sense of wit. Peachy. "So choose your form and lets get this over with already! That stupid Hunter's getting way too close for comfort!"
The Guardian was silent for a minute, as if thinking. Bakura felt something strange, as if the universe were suddenly expanding, but the Guardian's voice broke the weird trance. "I think..." its voice was soft, as if it wasn't even talking to them at all. "I think... Yes, that shall be an... appropriate form to take." It began to shift, its jelly-like flesh writhing and reforming itself. It was grotesque to watch, but Bakura found himself unable to look away. A small, detatched part of his mind wondered if the Guardian had bones at all, or if it held itself in shape by sheer force of will.
The Guardian grew taller, until it was about Bakura's height, and the legs lengthened. Within moments, its proportions were exactly that of a typical teenage human male, wearing a loose shirt, pants, and a long trench coat. The back of its head and neck was moving too, and Bakura realized with some chagrin that it was actually forming a ponytail. The face changed too. No longer just indistinct blobs for the eyes and nose, it suddenly sprang into sharp focus. Bakura blinked in surprise as he stared at the face, which seemed to be carved from chiseled stone. Although it was still very fluid-like, it was like the face was a hardened mask that the Guardian had simply chosen to wear. Though the lips were there, they didn't move. The skin, clothing, and hair were all the same colour, that same ethreal misty white. The eyes were blank, no pupil or iris, and it gave one the creepy feeling that this thing was staring into your soul without the trivial formality of using its eyes.
Holding one perfectly formed hand out in front of it, the Guardian concentrated, manipulating more of itself into a weapon. A long rod, nearly six feet in length, sprung from its hand, and it closed its hands around it in a two-handed grip. As soon as that had been done, long thorns sprung up along the length of it, reminding Bakura of a stiff version of Kurama's Rose Whip.
(WSJ: *coughs into her hand* Ebony-chan, you should know this one....)
Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so that's how you want to play, eh? So who are you modeled after? It's obviously a specific person. You seem to have gotten every detail down pat."
"I cannot say, tomb thief. You have not met him yet."
Bakura's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Have not met him yet? You mean you can see the future?"
"No," the Guardian answered crypticly. "I only see you."
Bakura snorted. "Whatever. All right, then, let's dance! Thorn Staff!" Channeling his spirit energy into the seed he was holding, it sprang into a long, thorned staff in a shower of golden rose petals. Now both of them held staffs of almost the same length. Both took up fighting stances, the Guardian's face blank, while Bakura took on a determined scowl.
The Guardian seemed calm and confident, waiting for Bakura to give the signal to begin, but Bakura's mind was working furiously. How was he going to beat something that could reform itself after every injury? Not to mention the fact that it apparently bled acid. Bakura tightened his grip on the staff, his muscles tensing. Then he charged with a loud cry, swinging his staff toward the doppleganger's head.
Rather than bring up its own staff to block, the Guardian threw itself backward, using one hand to flip itself backward and out of range. It landed on its feet again, but was quickly forced on the defensive as Bakura kept up the attack, spinning his staff over his head in a whirl of deadly sharp thorns. The Guardian brought its own Thorn Staff up to block, and the two grappled briefly before Bakura sprang away, shifting his grip on his staff.
To be able to wield a Thorn Staff the way these two were took great concentration. Since in traditional staff fighting the user's grip was ever shifting, ever changing, it was only a very skilled Terra Mage or a doppleganger who could use a Thorn Staff properly. As the hands changed possition, the thorns in that area would have to be pulled back into the staff before they impaled the person wielding it, and new thorns had to be grown where the hands had just been. Kurama knew the basic technique, but much preferred his Rose Whip instead. Watching Bakura and the Guardian fight was like watching some sort of dance. It was beautiful and horrible, all at the same time.
The Guardian sprang after Bakura, pressing the attack. Bakura hissed as one of the thorns caught him in the shoulder, tearing a long gash in the skin. He brought up his own staff to block against further attack and jumped back again. He hit something, nearly knocking the wind out of him, and he realized that he'd fallen back against the alter. Groping behind him, his hand found the smooth gold of the Ring, and he jerked it free of its place. He held it in front of him as the doppleganger attacked, and a burst of bright silver light spilled from the Eye of Horus located at the center of the Sennen Ring.
"Yes... Just as I saw... You are worthy."
The Guardian screamed briefly as the light flooded over it, and a moment later it was gone.
Bakura sank to the floor, breathing heavily, as Kurama hurried over to kneel next to him. "Are you okay?"
Bakura nodded breathlessly, looping the Ring's leather cord around his neck and feeling the familiar cool weight of it against his chest. He then shrank the Thorn Staff back into a rose seed and stuck it back into his hair, holding it in place for a moment as it sent out tiny roots just under his skin to anchor it in place. "By Allah, I hope I never have to fight a doppleganger again."
"That was a pretty short fight, actually." Kurama observed, helping his brother to his feet and tearing off a small strip of his shirt so he could bind up the cut on Bakura's shoulder.
"Yes, but just long enough."
Both thieves froze at the sound of the voice and slowly turned to face the door. He still stood mostly in shadow, his red eyes glowing dimmly in the darkness, but they knew who he was without a doubt. He reached under the long coat he wore and drew a sword, smirking wide enough so that the brothers could see his fangs. Bakura cursed, glancing down at his acid-corroded sword. Instinctively he pushed Kurama behind him, reaching up to pull several seeds out of his hair. Kurama did the same.
They backed away as the figure stepped into the light, revealing spiked red and black hair, and lightning blond bangs. His red eyes gleamed in bloodlust, and the golden pendant around his neck shimmered slightly. It was no rumor, then. The Sennen Puzzle really was in the Hunter's hands.
There was no where left to run, but Bakura'd be damned if they went down without a fight.
The Hunter had found them at last.
()()()()()
WSJ: *cackles* Whooo! Hunter! X3 By now you should've figured out that yes, the Hunter is none other than Yami no Yuugi. But from Bakura's little rant, you may be confused about what exactly happened back in Egypt. And I'm sure you're all wondering about Malachai. And, if you paid attention, about the form the doppleganger took.
Hiei: -_- And you're not going to tell them, are you?
WSJ: Of course not! They'll have to keep reading! *grins* So stay tuned! Unfortunately, although I know almost exactly how the next chapter's going to go, I have musical practice almost every night for the next two weeks to get ready for opening night on the 26th, so I don't think I'll get the next chapter out before then. *cringes* I might though, you never know.
Ryou: *sighs* And yes, WSJ is still working on HSH and HSWA. This has just been the one that gets the most attention.
WSJ: Reviews please!
God bless minna-san!