A.N: This chapter is pretty cruel, I must admit. Imamizno may seem a little OOC from what I've painted her already as, but she's blinded by her feelings. Bakura also may seem a little OOC as well, but personally, if you think about it and all the things his done, especially in the Pharaoh's Memory arc…well, let's face he's your typical evil warlord who needs a therapist! Angst, twisted minds and evil ahead. Also, this and the next chapter contain references of what's practically the equivalent of rape, so please, if that makes you queasy or uneasy please don't read. It's just to show how evil Bakura is and how much Imamizno is in love with him. And how evil Imamizno can be. After all, she's Ami's evil side!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of the story. Everything else belongs to there respective owners. I, in no way claim to own, neither do I want to. I also do not approve of any illegal actions Seto, Bakura and anyone else might commit in this story. It's just fanfiction, OK?

Chapter 6: Imamizno's Love

It hadn't been as fun as it usually was. It had become something to do when she was bored, as she was now. Even watching their eyes as they saw their last glimpse of life didn't do it for her anymore. In fact, she had started to feel rather sorry for them. Their patheticness was now so…sad. Was her heart redeveloping?

Impossible.

Having a heart just got in the way. The only thing she truly loved and actually cared about was her beloved Bakura. After that was most likely herself.

Nothing else really mattered.

She didn't see doing this as cheating or murder. She saw it as a way to have fun until she could have the passionate ecstasy that she craved for. It was like being an expressive release, something of compensation, till she could caress her one and only. Other then that, she was ridding the world of ignorant fools, who didn't deserve to live. Her love would be proud.

On the other hand, this feeling came over her every time she hit the point of pleasure. She hated it. Despised it. She couldn't blame on poor silly Ami either, as she had always felt it. Always felt that something was wrong with what she was doing. It really was despicable.

She hadn't seen Ryou since that night. She was lucky to have been able to fight Ami off.

. -.

Ami picked up the phone, trembling greatly as she dialled the number listed. She didn't know what to expect or what he would say. Or what she'd say. She was terrified.

"Konnichiwa. It's Ami-chan.

I know this is weird, but I keep dreaming that you're this man, bent on killing people I know, but in this dream I'm in love with you too. I also think your slightly evil in this dream and I keep thinking there's another me inside trying to get out, the side of me that's in love with you. Also, I keep getting this weird feeling of losing control and my friend's boyfriend, who says he's this ancient pharaoh, thinks it's got something to do with my necklace…"

Indeed. He'd get her checked into a mental asylum. Still, she had to check if she belonged there…

Ami dropped the phone before she pressed the last digit. She fell to the floor with a loud thunk.

'I can't breath!' Ami thought, as once again, her vision paved the way to darkness.

. -.

She couldn't have let Ami make that phone call. She wasn't sure what made Ami choke exactly, it wasn't as if her soul suddenly spilt apart and she had come out and strangled her. She would have been strangling herself too then.

Something deep inside Ami had made her start choking, desperately trying to get air. Falling had really hurt; she could feel a bruise developing. She hoped when Ami regained consciousness she would not try to call again. It would be disrespectful, and the last thing she wanted to do was to fall out of favour. If he wanted her, he would come, as he always did. Her feelings, hopes, wants and Ami's questions could wait.

She rolled over. Her eyes stung and wished for sleep, but through sleep, Ami would take control. She pushed the bed sheets down. It was a hot night, and with all her activity she was sweating. Besides, someone would alert the police in the morning when the man could not be found, and she could not risk being found still here. She would have to get up soon, make sure she left no evidence and go home.

Still, it was nice to stare up at the ceiling and remember times when she did not feel so tremulous in emotion.

Ancient Egypt:

It was just a walk; through it felt like so much more. Imamizno smiled, looking up at the silver-lavender haired man beside her. She liked the way it fell upon his strong, bronzed shoulders, unrestrained, but not messy. He really was beautiful. From those shoulders drooped his long cloak of red and gold; it followed behind him just as loyally as his minions and Imamizno herself, did. She sighed. She would follow him to the ends of the earth. Where the sand ended, where the wide, gigantic river began, to the exotic places she could only dream about. She almost giggled to herself about the entertaining thought of being as close to him as his cloak. Imagine being jealous of a cloak! She might as well imagine herself to be pharaoh!

It wasn't the first time they walked together through the night. Igasu slept like one already dead at night, leaving Imamizno to do as she pleased. Mostly she would walk down to the sand dunes outside the palace, outside the walls of the villages, down beyond the pyramids. Then, in the shade of a desert palm, she would sit and wait. The nights were hot, but if she lowered her veil, let the breeze freely waft upon her face, and keep to the cool sand underneath the tree, it was bearable. Of all the things in the land, Imamizno hated the weather most all. She found it sticky, sometimes it would leave her slightly breathless. She was not designed for the climate. She liked the cold, just the thought made her smile; through she could not clearly remember the time in which she had lived in it.

It was here she would wait, until the heat of early morning set in and she would hurry back to Igasu's chambers to wake the princess.

He was a creature of the night, his appearances in the daylight few. Sometimes she would wait all night without him appearing. There were even times when he did not come for several long periods of time. Still she would come to wait for him, no matter what else was required of her. Braving dust storms and heat just to see him. These pilgrimages to her tree were sacred to her.

She would always see his shadow first, his sandals moving the sand underneath her as he stood above her. She never knew until the last moment that he was there, always making a gasp of surprise. After the long stretches of time, she would wonder if he had forgotten her. Or even worse, no longer cared to see her. She knew he knew she would always wait for him here. She never questioned where he had been, or what he had done. It was none of her concern. That he had come to see her was all that mattered.

Imamizno knew he was what Ierion called 'wanted and dangerous'. Ierion had told her all about the rogue, a thief, and how his followers did terrible things to the Pharaoh's people. Imamizno was no fool. It was all true she knew. It just didn't matter. Even though the knowledge that she was meeting with him and withholding information, could throw her into a crypt, she was unfazed. He meant everything to her. That was the end of it.

In his "good" moods he would allow her to walk beside him. He would tell he of the outer world, feeding her the information through his silver spooned tongue into her hungry mind. He would ask her opinion on strategies; through he would never tell her what they were for. He recognised her for her skills and her excellently developed mind. Then he would guide her to a well-thought out place and teach her what love really was.

Imamizno was under no "romantic" thoughts about this. She had no doubt there were others he was and had been with. He travelled to far off places and did many things, so it was only logic. Still, she knew, he would always be the only one she would experience what they did together with. He was her one and only. He was the only one she trusted and there was no beating around the bush as to where her true feelings lay. She wasn't stupid like Ierion, who to Imamizno was now no better then a common lower class concubine. Who knew whom else she had lain with? There was nothing worse then laying with the traitor Pharaoh, but the head priest too? It disgusted her to no end.

There where always the "bad" moods. Imamizno had to always be prepared and tread lightly when they had arisen, which was most of the time. After making his presence known he would turn and Imamizno would have to quickly scramble to her feet and walk obediently behind him. There were nights the moon would hide beneath a veil of pale cloud materiel and she would have to listen with care to be able to follow him. He would not talk to her, making not a sound but for the soft scrap of his sandals as they slid into the sand. Imamizno knew better then to talk, disturb him from his important thoughts and always walked a few steps behind him.

Sometimes the sound of his feet would drop out and she knew he had left her deliberately. Other times he would lead to where he and his army had camped for the night. The men, sensing their leader's mood would either quieten down or raise their voices louder. Depending on this, Imamizno would judge his next move. If it were quiet, he would push her in front of them and they would present her with a prisoner they had captured. He would then order her to kill the prisoner. It was some sort of crazed amusement that would make the men laugh, Bakura smile sadistically, and the captive shake in fear.

He would then push her into his tent and roughly lay himself into her, through careful never too mar her head. Her inquisitive mind and pretty face was too valuable to lose. Then he would toss her out to his men, warning them not to hurt her "too much". Then he would laugh and disappear for the remainder of the night. Imamizno would imagine herself somewhere else as the men had their way, then escape as soon as soon as she could. This was bad she knew, had it been on the order of anyone else she would have killed them all and enjoyed it further more. But not when it was her beloved. For if he saw her as worthless as hat, she was ten times worse. Besides, the times when the men's laughter and merriment rose higher were far worse.

He would drag her into his tent, suddenly to be a volcanic eruption of anger. Her head no longer mattered. He would pile his frustrations on her. Sometimes it would end there. Imamizno could never be sure. When he smiled that same smile he smiled at the prisoner on other nights, that's when she thought she could feel her fragile body break underneath him. Somehow her head would start to swirl and she knew she was fading out of consciousness. When she awoke, she would always feel herself bruised and hurting, next to her desert tree. The fact that he always made sure that after those nights she woke up next to the tree, gave her hope. She knew that what had occurred had nothing to do with her. He would never dream of her to get hurt so badly she would die. He would neither desert her. She knew he would be back for her. She knew that somewhere inside him, that he cared. Then she would smile and limp back to the palace to clean herself up.

Then there were the times when he would simply turn and push her into the sand, have his way with her then and there. Through in some ways like his "good" moods, he never said anything; her body was just another way to release himself. Then he would walk her silently back to the tree. Usually after these sessions, the long periods of not seeing him occur, and then and only then would she permit herself to cry.

Through she found his "bad" moods slightly humiliating, she saw it as a service, something to make her beloved happier. So what if he was unkind sometimes? She knew it was the Pharaoh's fault. She never feared or doubted him. Soon he would take his rightful place as head of the land, of the world, and then maybe, she hoped he would take her as his queen. All the pain and "bad" moods were worth it for that. She knew that compared to that his "good" moods that would pale in comparison. As for now they would do. They could make up for everything.

Tonight, through he had allowed her to walk beside him, he was unusually quiet. Imamizno bit her lip and gathered up her pluck.

"Is everything alright?" She asked quietly. She wasn't sure if she had done the right thing. Making the wrong move could end everything between them. She blushed and turned away as he turned to face her.

"Why would anything be wrong?"

"You're…just rather…quiet…" Imamizno said with caution. She felt his rough, sunburnt hands touch her face, pulling it towards him. She blushed looking into his mysteriously coloured eyes.

Bakura smiled. She was such a mannerly, shy girl, yet with enough pluck and brain for him to contend with. She had everything he'd want a girl to be. Almost everything anyways. She was different then the girls he usually spent his company in. They were usually the ones that tired to defy, to beat him. Feisty. Long-legged with long dark hair, just asking for trouble.

Imamizno was different. She didn't try to run, when he took his work out on her. He never saw her cry, yet she looked so much like a child. Yet, in the time he had gotten to know her, he had learnt what a valuable tool she was, what beautiful woman she could be. Inside she was strong, cold, and indifferent to the death she could cause with the power she owned. She had icy blue eyes that mystified him. He had heard that the Pharaoh's bride had queer looks, but Imamizno's left him speechless. Most females had long, dark hair, but Imamizno had cut hers short, as she said to him, for convenience in such hot weather. Her hair through most defiantly dark, was actually a shade of blue, just tints darker then the sky. If the Nile had once been blue, Bakura believed it would be this colour. He ran his other hand through her hair and cupped her head with his hands. He then laughed at her blushing at his touch, bent his head towards her and kissed her.

"You take my voice away, my love…"

Imamizno felt like she had entered the home of the gods. It was the first time he called her his love. She smiled and laughed. Her next words did not even have a chance to escape as he enveloped her mouth with his again.

'The past can be both beautiful and ugly…as can the future' came the thought to Imamizno as she recollected the early going ons of her love and herself.

'The future will be ours to make. Together'

Please R&R!

… # Rei Ant # …