For hours and hours, Ryou walked, and the pyramids in the distance were content to remain in the distance. The hot sun blazed over his pale skin, which was now more than drenched with sweat. The shirt clung to his back. He thought for a moment about removing it, but it was the only barrier between his tender back and the scalding whip of the midday Egyptian sun. It may do more harm than good.
Pherhaps, he thought to himself, this was a trap in itself.
His thin frame ached as he pushed himself forward. His stomach curled fitfully, demanding for even a drop of water. His head spun as he tried to keep his eyes on the pyramids on the horizon, not to be distracted by the strange apparitions of palm trees and wading pools that suddenly appeared around him. He knew they were figments of his imagination, which disappeared, like the door, as soon as he gave them a second glance.
"Yami? Where… Where are your memories?" Ryou gasped, trudging forward. "Please… tell me I'm getting closer…"
He licked the sweat from his chin, hoping in vain that it would quench his thirst. But all the salty fluid did was make him throw up, and crave the illusions of water even more.
Before long, the spinning had turned to pounding, the echo of his mindless footsteps throbbing in his head.
He prayed to be back in his soul room, as distraught as it usually made him. The thought of his yami finding him and scolding him grew more and more appealing. Banishment to the shadow realm even started to sound favorable. He tried to shake those thoughts from his mind, but they refused to be so easily dismissed.
"Please… fi..find me…" Ryou whispered, swaying as he staggered forward. By the time another hour had passed, Ryou had collapsed lifelessly into the sand.
When he finally woke up, he assumed himself to be dead. He could no longer feel the sun on his face, although his body still burned with its heat. He tried to move, but found himself too exhausted.
"…Wh…where am I?" he finally managed to whisper. His eyes, still closed, relished in the serene darkness.
"You shouldn't go out until Ra goes down." A tiny voice answered him. It didn't sound like his yami's voice, but rather like that of a child.
Ryou jolted awake, his entire form painfully jumping forward in the bed he didn't know he was resting in.
"Even a kid knows that." There was a sharp edge in the child's voice, and a strange air of familiarity.
Ryou waited for his eyes to come into focus. The blurry outline standing in front of him soon became that of a poor Egyptian boy holding a wet rag in his hands.
The child was small, and quite thin, cloaked in soiled rags. He looked to be around the age of seven or eight. His white hair, dirty and unkempt, hung down to his shoulders. A series of scars, from a heinous looking wound, stretched from his right cheek to his forehead. His right eye was forced closed by the enormous amount of scar tissue. It made Ryou shudder to imagine what kind of injury would have caused it.
His one amethyst eye watched Ryou's every motion with apprehension.
"I should have left you out there." The child continued, dipping the rag into a small wooden bucket. "But you don't look like one of the pharaoh's guards. If you were a priest, you'd have more gold."
Ryou looked down. He didn't have the millennium ring around his neck. He strained to remember if he even had it when he walked through the soul room door. But he couldn't.
"… Did… did I have… something around my neck?" Ryou managed to ask, his voice scratchy from the desert heat.
"No, idiot." The child replied, sincere enough for Ryou to believe him. "What village are you from, to get all the way out here?"
"I… I…" Ryou looked at the child, as he climbed on the bed. He put the cool rag around Ryou's sunburned neck, and jumped back down. This boy sounded, and almost looked, like his yami.
"You don't know?" the boy asked again.
Ryou looked back up. He couldn't very well tell the boy his real purpose here. After all, the child might actually be one of the memories he was looking for. It might hold the key to stopping the spirit of the millennium ring's latest scheme.
"I don't… remember…" Ryou made up a convenient excuse. He had said those words truthfully so many times, it hardly sounded like a lie.
"You must have been out there longer than I thought." The boy appeared slightly concerned beneath his rough exterior.
He took a small bowl, and dipped it into the water. He then handed the bowl to Ryou, motioning him to take it. Ryou looked at it for a minute.
"It's not poison." The boy answered, sipping from it before offering it up again.
"Thank you…" Ryou smiled weakly, and took the bowl from the boy's hands. He pressed the cold pottery up to his lips. The edge was cracked, but it was otherwise very smooth. He took a long drink, letting the fresh water trickle down the back of his throat. And in the heat, he couldn't think of a more pleasurable sensation.
The child climbed back up to the bed again, and stared at Ryou.
"You wear funny robes. And your skin is a funny color." He commented, poking at the t-shirt and jeans Ryou was wearing. "You must not be from around here."
Ryou blinked.
"No… I… I guess I'm not." He added. "I… I don't even know where 'here' is, I'm afraid."
The child blinked back.
"Oh…" he took the empty bowl back. The boy answered in a very serious tone. "This is Kul Elna. The village of thieves."
He seemed almost surprised when his strange houseguest didn't suddenly cower in fear at the very name of the place.
"At least, it used to be." He continued, looking away from Ryou. The child's expression drooped. "Before the pharaoh's men came."
"Pharaoh's men?" Ryou asked.
The young boy growled at the second mention of the Egyptian ruler. His little hands curled in tight fists, and he muttered a curse under his breath.
"You really aren't from around here!" the child repeated. "You've never heard of the pharaoh?"
"I've… um… heard of him…" Ryou attempted to answer. That wasn't a lie, really. "But only a little…"
"He should die. The rotten hound. He… He'll die one day, for what he did! I swear it on Anubis' gate!" the boy curled his fists even tighter, his nails cutting into his dark flesh. He shook his head, trying to stop himself from shedding any tears.
"There… it's okay…" Ryou felt the need to comfort the boy, and timidly put his arm around the child's shoulders.
"Keep your hands off of me, freak!" the child shouted, jumping off the bed, and rolling onto the floor in a defensive position. Keeping his eyes on Ryou, he reached for a knife on the table nearby.
"I'm… sorry…" Ryou attempted to interject.
The young thief climbed to his feet, pointing the knife at Ryou.
"You're lying!" he shouted, his hand shaking. "The bastard sent you! He sent you to finish the job!"
Ryou curled back on the bed, quite afraid. Was this his yami as a child? The boy, despite being so little, was certainly was acting a lot like his yami, and had a sizable hatred of the pharaoh.
"No… I promise, I'm not… Nobody sent me…" Ryou attempted to reason with the youth. He held both of his hands up, open in front of him, to prove he was empty handed. He made no sudden motions. "I… I've never heard of Kul Elna… I… I promise…"
The boy jumped onto the bed, placing the knife at the pale stranger's throat. Ryou gulped as he felt the sharpened metal rest uneasily against his neck. The knife trembled as the child's hands shook.
"You're lying!" he shouted. "I won't let you kill me! Not like they killed Mom and Dad! No!"
Ryou tried to retreat back onto the bed, but his exhausted body wouldn't respond.
"I… I don't want to kill you… please… Please don't kill me…"
"You're just part of the pharaoh's scum! Why should I believe you!" he shouted coldly.
Ryou didn't know how to respond.
"Please… I'm… I'm just lost… I don't know where I am… I… I don't know how I got here…" he attempted to half-lie. He quivered as the child grabbed his hair and pressed the knife even closer to his throat. "I… I won't hurt you, I promise!"
The young boy blinked, watching the stranger cower in fear of him. It was a reaction he liked. For a moment, he wished this really was one of the pharaoh's guards, but somehow he knew it couldn't have been. None of the pharaoh's men looked or acted like this. His skin was too pale. And the white hair bore an uncanny resemblance to his dead mother.
That last fact alone probably tipped the young thief's scale of sympathy towards the traveler.
"…You… you promise you're not… one of the pharaoh's men?" he asked, looking up with an innocent expression. Ryou only nodded.
"Please… please don't kill me…" he gasped, holding his breath.
He only released that breath when the young boy dropped the knife on the bed. He looked like he was about to cry. That appearance soon changed.
"I'm only letting you live because you look like Mom." He snarled, and jumped back down, being sure to take his knife with him. "If you promise you're not one of the pharaoh's men."
"I'm… I'm not…" Ryou whispered, still shaking. "I promise."
"Good." The boy answered. "I can't be too careful around here."
He put the knife back on the table, and returned to the water bowl. He took a drink from it, letting the piece of pottery splash back down into the bucket when he was finished with it.
"The… the pharaoh ki…killed your mother and father?" Ryou asked, watching the boy dry his mouth on his ripped sleeve. He climbed up to the table, and took a pomegranate from another bowl.
The child nodded.
"He killed everyone."
For the first time, Ryou listened to the immense silence that seemed to penetrate the walls. The silence was similar to that from his own home, when his mother and sister had just passed away.
"Do… do you live here all alone?"
"Are you deaf as well as dumb?" the child answered, slicing the fruit open with his knife. He greedily devoured part of it, as though he hadn't eaten all day. "I told you. He killed everyone."
He sat up again, and looked out a window. The village was completely empty. There were no footsteps, no coins dropping, nothing. 'Everyone' didn't just mean the boy's family. It meant his entire village.
"He killed everyone in the village?"
The boy nodded, again pushing back the urge to cry. He took another bite of fruit.
"I… I saw them." He answered. "He… the pharaoh's men came one night. And killed everyone. They burned them all up, and turned them into gold."
Ryou froze. He knew enough to know that the boy was talking about the millennium items. There was no mistake. This child had to be his yami.
"I'm… I'm terribly sorry… um… what… What did you say your name was?"
The child looked up, and tossed a pomegranate over to Ryou. He managed to catch it, barely taking his eyes off the small youth.
"Bakura." The young thief growled, and looked away. "Not like I expect you to remember it."
Ryou could barely breathe. It was him. It was his yami, as a child.
"Do you even remember yours?" the boy asked.
He couldn't very well say, 'My name is Bakura too.' He would have to use his first name only.
"Um… Ryou…" he replied, "And Bakura, thank you for finding me…"
The child looked him over. This Ryou person didn't look like such a bad person. He certainly didn't appear to be in league with the pharaoh.
"Just don't be stupid, Ryou, and go wandering around in the desert again." He looked the other way again.
Yes, Ryou thought to himself, this is certainly his yami.