A/N: I'm glad you all liked this! If you have been wondering, then yes, I have been
having problems with the Bakura-to-Ryou "marks". It seems that doesn't want to
show anything I've put. ::grr:: I hope this next time will actually work. If not, bear with
me. I'll get it eventually.
I realize that this is starting out slow, but it'll pick up the pace later on, I swear. ::grin::
Just trust me.
Enjoy.
GUIDE
: Ryou to Bakura :
:: Bakura to Ryou ::
Blah is thoughts
-----
"So, you're the professional at this. What should I and shouldn't I pack?"
"Figure it out your own damn self," came the reply. Ryou sighed and rolled his eyes,
making sure that Bakura still had his back turned.
"Necessities aside, is there anything important I should take?" Bakura looked at him a
moment before pulling something out of his bag. He tossed it to Ryou, who caught it and
held it with curiosity. "Why?"
"Your gonna learn how to use it, that's why. Run with me and you'll need to learn how to
survive on your own. I won't be there to save your sorry ass every time somebody bigger
than you comes along, got it?"
Ryou looked at the sheath before him. It was black leather, and could be tied to an arm,
leg, or even a belt. The handle was gold, inlaid with several other precious metals and
stones. Two jackals made up most of the handle, sitting proudly, back-to-back. Above
their heads, at the end of the handle, was an inscription. It was written in hieroglyphs.
"Strength, speed, cleverness, and endurance...." he read aloud. Bakura said nothing.
Ryou noticed that the inscription didn't go all the way around. At one point, there was a
space, some hieroglyphs inside a circle, and then another space, and then the inscription
began. He recognized it as a cartouche, meaning that the hieroglyphs inside were a name.
He studied it, trying to see what it was.
"It says, 'Khalid'."
"Khalid?"
"Yes." Ryou looked at him for a moment, noticing a slight faraway look in his eyes. It hit
him.
"This is yours, isn't it? Your Khalid!"
"It was mine. It's yours now, which means your Khalid," he said.
"I don't believe I understand," Ryou said, looking the knife over. He drew the blade from
the sheath, and couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of it all.
"Among the thieves of my time there was a legend of a thief, named Khalid. He became
the first King of Thieves, stealing the entombed body of the first Pharaoh. It became
tradition for the subsequent kings to adopt the name 'Khalid'. It means--"
"Immortal," Ryou said. Bakura narrowed his eyes.
"How did you know that?"
"I... I don't know..." Ryou told him. How DID I know that? Unless I picked up on some of
his memory, which has happened before. Not any time recently, though. I wonder.
"Well, you're now Khalid," Bakura said.
"But I'm not King of Thieves! I can't even steal those little commodities from motel
rooms!" Ryou protested.
"No, but I am. Now hurry up, if we're late, we'll never hear the end of it!" Bakura said,
ending the discussion. He grabbed his bag off the floor and left the room.
But why on earth would he... Ryou blinked. Could it be that...? But, it made no sense!
Why on earth would Bakura call me.... No, it must be something else. Nothing about him
makes much sense any more. Nothing does.
: ...Thank you... : he said, receiving no reply.
Ryou admired the knife for a few moments longer, but knew that they were pressed for
time. He found a cloth and wrapped it up carefully, afraid to damage it. It was the only
gift he had ever received from Bakura, and he was going to take care of it.
He went through all of his belongings, slowly working his way down to what he now had.
Two changes of clothes, the knife, a pair each of sandals and boots, a large wirebound
notebook, a sketch book and pencils, and a few odds and ends he thought might come in
handy. The only personal affects he had added was a photo of his mother and a locket that
had belonged to his sister.
Strange, he thought, how I can pack everything into one bag that only slightly larger than
average, and feel no sadness or regret. I feel... kinda giddy. Ryou wondered at that as
went downstairs.
Bakura was outside, leaning against a near-new black Jeep Wrangler. It was the new
Rubicon model, and had been a gift from Ryou's father. Why, he didn't know, as he
didn't drive, but Bakura did and he used it. He said that is was a good vehicle for their
line of work. At the time he had only meant himself, Malik, and Marik, but now Ryou
was a part of it all.
"Ready?"
"I think so," Ryou replied. Bakura gave him a look.
:: You have to be sure, or else I'm leavin' you behind, :: he said.
Ryou looked back to his house. I'm leaving all this, probably for good. I'm leaving this
life, this time and place, all of it. He paused. I wonder if the others will miss me. No, they
barely knew me. I barely know them. There is nothing to miss. He threw his bag into the
back of the Jeep and got in. Bakura didn't move, just looked at him.
: Well, c'mon already! You said it yourself, we'll never hear the end of it if we're late! :
he said. Bakura grinned and jumped in. He started the engine and pulled out of the
driveway.
A/N: Malik and Marik next chapter! Like I said before, I know this is starting out slow,
but please bear with me.
Also, if anyone has a suggestion for a title (I'm not really fond of what I have), I'd be glad
to hear it. Language doesn't matter, just put the meaning if its not in English. Put it in the
review or E-mail, it doesn't matter.
Review, please! And flames are fine.
having problems with the Bakura-to-Ryou "marks". It seems that doesn't want to
show anything I've put. ::grr:: I hope this next time will actually work. If not, bear with
me. I'll get it eventually.
I realize that this is starting out slow, but it'll pick up the pace later on, I swear. ::grin::
Just trust me.
Enjoy.
GUIDE
: Ryou to Bakura :
:: Bakura to Ryou ::
Blah is thoughts
-----
"So, you're the professional at this. What should I and shouldn't I pack?"
"Figure it out your own damn self," came the reply. Ryou sighed and rolled his eyes,
making sure that Bakura still had his back turned.
"Necessities aside, is there anything important I should take?" Bakura looked at him a
moment before pulling something out of his bag. He tossed it to Ryou, who caught it and
held it with curiosity. "Why?"
"Your gonna learn how to use it, that's why. Run with me and you'll need to learn how to
survive on your own. I won't be there to save your sorry ass every time somebody bigger
than you comes along, got it?"
Ryou looked at the sheath before him. It was black leather, and could be tied to an arm,
leg, or even a belt. The handle was gold, inlaid with several other precious metals and
stones. Two jackals made up most of the handle, sitting proudly, back-to-back. Above
their heads, at the end of the handle, was an inscription. It was written in hieroglyphs.
"Strength, speed, cleverness, and endurance...." he read aloud. Bakura said nothing.
Ryou noticed that the inscription didn't go all the way around. At one point, there was a
space, some hieroglyphs inside a circle, and then another space, and then the inscription
began. He recognized it as a cartouche, meaning that the hieroglyphs inside were a name.
He studied it, trying to see what it was.
"It says, 'Khalid'."
"Khalid?"
"Yes." Ryou looked at him for a moment, noticing a slight faraway look in his eyes. It hit
him.
"This is yours, isn't it? Your Khalid!"
"It was mine. It's yours now, which means your Khalid," he said.
"I don't believe I understand," Ryou said, looking the knife over. He drew the blade from
the sheath, and couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of it all.
"Among the thieves of my time there was a legend of a thief, named Khalid. He became
the first King of Thieves, stealing the entombed body of the first Pharaoh. It became
tradition for the subsequent kings to adopt the name 'Khalid'. It means--"
"Immortal," Ryou said. Bakura narrowed his eyes.
"How did you know that?"
"I... I don't know..." Ryou told him. How DID I know that? Unless I picked up on some of
his memory, which has happened before. Not any time recently, though. I wonder.
"Well, you're now Khalid," Bakura said.
"But I'm not King of Thieves! I can't even steal those little commodities from motel
rooms!" Ryou protested.
"No, but I am. Now hurry up, if we're late, we'll never hear the end of it!" Bakura said,
ending the discussion. He grabbed his bag off the floor and left the room.
But why on earth would he... Ryou blinked. Could it be that...? But, it made no sense!
Why on earth would Bakura call me.... No, it must be something else. Nothing about him
makes much sense any more. Nothing does.
: ...Thank you... : he said, receiving no reply.
Ryou admired the knife for a few moments longer, but knew that they were pressed for
time. He found a cloth and wrapped it up carefully, afraid to damage it. It was the only
gift he had ever received from Bakura, and he was going to take care of it.
He went through all of his belongings, slowly working his way down to what he now had.
Two changes of clothes, the knife, a pair each of sandals and boots, a large wirebound
notebook, a sketch book and pencils, and a few odds and ends he thought might come in
handy. The only personal affects he had added was a photo of his mother and a locket that
had belonged to his sister.
Strange, he thought, how I can pack everything into one bag that only slightly larger than
average, and feel no sadness or regret. I feel... kinda giddy. Ryou wondered at that as
went downstairs.
Bakura was outside, leaning against a near-new black Jeep Wrangler. It was the new
Rubicon model, and had been a gift from Ryou's father. Why, he didn't know, as he
didn't drive, but Bakura did and he used it. He said that is was a good vehicle for their
line of work. At the time he had only meant himself, Malik, and Marik, but now Ryou
was a part of it all.
"Ready?"
"I think so," Ryou replied. Bakura gave him a look.
:: You have to be sure, or else I'm leavin' you behind, :: he said.
Ryou looked back to his house. I'm leaving all this, probably for good. I'm leaving this
life, this time and place, all of it. He paused. I wonder if the others will miss me. No, they
barely knew me. I barely know them. There is nothing to miss. He threw his bag into the
back of the Jeep and got in. Bakura didn't move, just looked at him.
: Well, c'mon already! You said it yourself, we'll never hear the end of it if we're late! :
he said. Bakura grinned and jumped in. He started the engine and pulled out of the
driveway.
A/N: Malik and Marik next chapter! Like I said before, I know this is starting out slow,
but please bear with me.
Also, if anyone has a suggestion for a title (I'm not really fond of what I have), I'd be glad
to hear it. Language doesn't matter, just put the meaning if its not in English. Put it in the
review or E-mail, it doesn't matter.
Review, please! And flames are fine.