Yami's koi: you all have such high opinions of Ryou, but as you all know, this will be the first test of their newly formed relationship.
Neutral Man: oh, so technical and posh.
Yami's koi: shaddup! Anyways, here's an update… I don't think Guess will last many chapters after this one… Sadly. Or would it be gladly? I dunno… Anyways, have fun reading this! XD
Set's spell caught on Bakura's right cheek, where his prominent scars from the days in which he plundered riches used to be. He dodged out of the way of the thing that had hit him; despite knowing it was too late. The man felt a warm sensation caress across the areas were his scars had once been.
Why he still hid the scars, he did not know. Maybe he had thought himself bad looking with them. Perhaps they symbolised his defeat to the Pharaoh. Maybe Bakura saw them as poisonous to his appearance. Perhaps they were something that Bakura had thought of unsuitable for this new, fresh life with Ryou, and he did not want them to hinder his chances of being truly happy. Bakura did not fully know why he concealed them, but he knew one thing – he felt better not having to hide himself behind them.
There were so many issues that could have been related with his scars – defeat, embarrassment, weakness, lack of beauty, lack of confidence… and so, the list would continue, if only the Thief would allow it. Defeat? Sure, he had to gain some scars in the past… it was only natural, considering which career path the Gods had gifted him with. Weakness? Even if for just one moment, Bakura had allowed someone to sneak past his guard and attack him, scarring the man mentally and physically for life. Lack of beauty had never really bothered Bakura – He knew he was an attractive man, there was no doubt about it – but lack of confidence may have been a sore issue that he did not want to deal with. For Bakura, this was weakness. It was hesitation. It was doubt. And all of them would have contributed to his downfall as being the King of Thieves during his time alive in ancient Egypt.
After a few moments, Bakura froze in the position he was in – in his attempt to dodge Set's curse, his back had arched, leaving Bakura balancing on his two feet and one finger that barely touched the sand. The warm sensation in his face died away, and he realised that if he looked in the mirror, he would see the haunting face that he had been condemned with in his Egyptian life. He thought he had escaped all of that… A series of emotions came arching through his being, and all of a sudden, he wanted to run and hide. He had never felt so exposed.
Bakura's back slowly straightened. He became slowly aware that everything around him was quiet; apart from the heavy labouring his seemingly tired lungs were giving him, that is. All of a sudden it became very, very difficult to breathe.
Once he was standing at his original height, Bakura's fingers gently caressed against his cheek. Sure as hell, he could feel the slight rise in flesh over certain areas of skin. A silky smooth surface that seemed oddly combined with bumps met with his fingers.
The Thief's eyes widened, and his hand fell to his side. In an instant, he gripped the handle of his sword and used it to block the attack Set had sent soaring towards his abdomen.
Set froze, face stuck on the expression he had held before he attacked: one of great superiority and also cunning. Now, however, after his attack had been deflected into one of his burial possessions, it was fading ever so slightly, into a sour look of anger and also questioning.
Bakura smirked in an almost arrogant way at the God, sword still held out in front of him in case of another attack. He had suspected something like that would happen… How oddly obvious of Set…
"That was devious," Bakura said at length, lowering his sharp, lustrous weapon to twirl it slightly between his fingers. The light beamed at his friends for just a moment before shining back onto the Thief's enemy. "But very, very predictable. Shame on you."
If Set had had proper human eyes, Bakura was very certain that he would have been glaring at him. Absent-mindedly, Bakura turned, then cursed aloud when he realised everyone could see his marred face. It had been so very long since he had had to care about that side of his face so much. He went to turn again, but after a few moments of standing the way he was, he realised the torches had cast an eerie glow over his face, making the scars even more prominent.
In this time, Ryou barely concealed his gasp of surprise. The scar ran vertically up Bakura's right eye (and he still had an eye after that?). On the actual cheek there were two horizontal scars, seemingly done at the same time as one another – they seemed almost parallel. Bakura's eyes seemed the same as they always had, but now they contained something Ryou decided instantly did not suit him at all.
It was raw, cold fear. It looked as if it had been dormant within the Thief for a while, considering its intensity and amount. In all of his years they had known each other, Ryou could not draw out a single memory in which Bakura was allowing himself to show such emotion in this kind of quantity. Nothing even came close.
In this instance, Ryou both pitied Bakura and hated Set. He did not know which emotion ruled over him more – hatred or sorrow. He looked again at Bakura, taking only small glances in case he hurt his love, and realised something he knew everyone else had.
There was nothing wrong with Bakura having a scar... Or three. It had not turned him into some sort of rage driven, blood lusting monster. It had not affected his ability to love, or to judge. Underneath that scar that was seen as a mar, it was still Bakura, the King of Thieves. In fact, if anything, it made the man look sexier, in an odd way. It made him look more willing to fight for anyone and for any reason possible, even if it meant risking his own life.
And, as ashamed and as selfish as Ryou felt at admitting this, that was the kind of level of devotion that he wanted.
Whilst Ryou stole tiny glances from Bakura, the Thief realised he was trying to spare the man's feelings. Deep down he felt some of the fear shift into relief. But he considered Ryou's expression – which was one of deep thought – and prayed that his hikari was not as shallow as Set hoped him to be.
But when Ryou's face broke into a large smile, Bakura became confused, previous thoughts abandoned. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He tried to flinch away when he saw Ryou approach him, trying to cast the firelight onto the other side of his face. But when Ryou's fingers touched against the scar lightly, Bakura turned his face back and stared into the most sincere, loving eyes he had ever seen.
"You aren't any different from the Bakura I fell in love with," Ryou whispered softly, a slight tremble in his voice.
Bakura's face broke into a broad grin. He had never doubted Ryou for a second.
Then, Ryou's eyes widened.
"DUCK!" He yelled, throwing himself on top of Bakura to prevent the Thief from being struck with Set's spell. The young hikari felt the wind slice through his hair, but could tell nothing had been damaged. Over Bakura's similar hair, he glared at the God.
"You're one sadistic bastard, you know that?" Ryou asked coldly, moving to a stand above Bakura. The Tomb Robber soon followed, pushing Ryou behind him gently. He had almost forgotten about his scars when he felt them again, and he sighed, staring sorrowfully at Set.
"So, you tried to lower my esteem by showing everyone my scars. This would have had an impact on the way I fought. I never knew you to play fair, but even for you, that is pretty damn low, Set," Bakura said seriously, folding his arms with a slight smirk settling on his features. "But then again, I suppose it wouldn't matter to a big, ugly bastard like you, would it? Let alone one who was so jealous of his own brother he killed him, all for a little fame and glory… But did you ever stop to think about the reasons why you were so unpopular, Set?
"Was it the lack of great things that you did? Or was it the ugliness of your features? Or maybe it was your lack of complete common sense. I suppose you can't help it though… I mean, there's got to be one person out there who's a complete fucktard. It's just such a shame it had to be a God, of all people… The humiliation you must have gone through!"
By this time, everyone in the dimly lit, treasure-filled tomb has realised what Bakura was doing – with, of course, the exception of Set. Bakura was using Set's own techniques against him. He was spiting the man so he would, as Yami says, 'Squander his energy until there is nothing left but a broken, empty shell. Then, we attack.'
Set's hollow eye sockets would have widened, his eyebrows furrowing with rage, had he actually got the said features. Without even so much as a battle cry to warn Bakura, Set lunged himself forwards, bursts of light frantically emitting from Set's bandaged, aged hand whilst Bakura did his best to shove the others into a safe place.
Once he did this, he performed a backwards somersault, landing on his feet expertly before having to dart to his left, flattening himself out against the wall. He ducked another one of Set's ferocious beams of light (he didn't know what they would do when they struck him, but the gaping hole in the wall where his head had been moments ago gave him a fair idea), before hurling himself between the creature's legs, throwing his body weight onto his other side in order to be lying on his back.
Despite all of this happening in a matter of seconds, Yugi was confused already. He glanced around, hoping to keep well out of the way of this battle, whilst at the same time feeling conflicting emotions about how he was being a terrible friend to the Thief King. At the end of the day, Yugi knew, he would only get in the way of Bakura during the fight. But did that mean he would be unable to give the man at least some sort of support? He didn't feel like cheer leading would help. That would only distract Bakura. But what else could he do? Yugi closed his eyes, finally understanding what it was like to be completely helpless, drowning in an ocean of self-pity and self-hatred until a tsunami of further emotions came to destroy him totally.
Set aimed a further three beams of light throw a gaping hole in his middle, slicing through the bandages he'd haphazardly tied there. Bakura's eyes widened, and, uttering a loud Egyptian curse, dared to try his weapons out against the magic.
Even as he raised his curved swords, Bakura doubted this would work. Surely his swords would have little effect against Set's Godly shadow magic?
His thoughts turned out to be incorrect. He batted the assault as if he were playing baseball, and stared in surprise as the attacks collided with Set's knee. The area disintegrated, and the God's body made a weak hissing sound, much like a snake poised to attack its unsuspecting victim.
As much as Bakura did not want to, he had to find out what just happened, and why it did. He turned his head sharply towards the pale faces of his friends, glaring at Yami in particular.
"Pharaoh! Why did that just happen?" Bakura spat, jumping up onto his feet, chocolate coloured eyes flicking between the group and the staggering form of his opponent.
"Did you steal your swords from a Tomb in Ancient Egypt?" Yami suggested, also staring at Set's slowly recovering form.
"Naturally," Bakura replied, poising himself for the next attack.
Yami rolled his eyes despite himself. That was so very like Bakura.
"The Pharaoh you stole them from-" He gasped when Bakura dipped his head, curling his body in such a way that he missed a beam of now suddenly dark light. "-Had probably put a spell on them-" Bakura darted around a nearby pillar, using the reflection in his sword so he would be able to emerge from behind the stone as soon as the assault struck its target. "-Which means you can use the magic within them to-" Yami frowned when Set used his own magic to move so suddenly, Bakura's timing was thrown off guard. Unsure of where to look, Bakura simply threw himself behind the prone body of Brother Semerkhet, using the fiend's torso to hide behind. When his thoughts finally caught up with his body, and he realised this actions would do little for him, Bakura flattened his body down against the floor and prepared for the worse.
Of course, what with Semerkhet being a ghost, the attack was expected to pass straight through him, the bottom of the magic just skimming the top of Bakura's hair. Waving goodbye to several of his gorgeously spiky, long locks, the Thief cringed… And was shocked when Set's attack actually struck his second opponent. Brother Semerkhet stumbled back several paces, walking straight through Bakura's body. The man shivered, but regained his composure when another beam of death bringing light shot past him, just grazing his leg. The jeans there instantly singed, Bakura rolled out of the way and began to dart his way through numerous gold statues, unsure of just where the hell this battle would lead him.
But the most important thing was… Why the hell the God's attack struck Semerkhet, Set's ally, instead of Bakura, the obviously intended target? Bakura's eyebrows furrowed together in though, and he threw himself down onto the floor to avoid another attack from coming into contact with his human body.
Glancing around, Bakura pushed another gold statue of the Goddess, Isis, into the path of Set's attack, only hearing it shatter into miniscule pieces before diving into a small cavern, leading into another chamber below the desert floor.
Jou
Once locking the door, he was off. Jou broke out into a frantic run down the path of the cabin, using the narrow sidewalk from there onwards to rush out down to the beach.
A million fears and hopes were running through his head at that moment. Although Jou had never seen himself as a complex being – what you see is what you get – He often thought about things more than what people originally anticipated. Sadly, he hardly ever confided in others what such further thoughts were.
But right now, his usually cheerful, humorous disposition was twisted into one of desperation and determination. Desperation because he needed to find his friends in time if he was to be of any use to them. Determination because he was willing to do whatever it took to ensure his friend's were okay. Deep down, a lot of people probably thought that this was corny and lame, but Jou couldn't have cared less as his sneakers pounded across the sandy beach.
He was gasping for breath by the time he had reached the beaches sandy surface. There were a few tourists gathered around the area, some taking photos, buying ice creams from a nearby vender – The typical things people do when on vacation.
Too bad that Jou couldn't be like them. He raced past those taking family snap shots, earning several curses in various languages, to which Jou responded with by kicking up dust in their faces. Lives were at stake here, and all they could think about was one ruined photograph.
You could take another photo. It was just a shame that you couldn't have a second chance at life. Jou gritted his teeth as he raged on, despite his lungs burning within his chest. Pushing his low cardiovascular endurance out of the way, Jou raged on.
A few moments later, he was met with the secluded area of the beach… The part where all those famous archaeologists disappeared… And where Bakura, Yami and Yugi were.
If Ryou was there, he did not know. But there was only one way to find out, right? Jou nodded to himself, and walked towards the cave entry ever so slowly, until he felt the sand beneath his feet begin to crack and give way ever so slightly. Inhaling deeply, he stepped back once, only to leap forwards in one giant burst of energy, getting a rush of adrenaline from the feeling of the floor falling from beneath him.
Sand and wind gushed past Jou's body, the two forces combining to slice against the boy's cheek, like a knife. He shut his eyes, trying to spare them the agony of having grit in them. Jou made his body as streamline as possible, his stomach lurching dangerously, just wanting this trip to be over…
And sure enough, his backside left the sloping gradient of the tomb's entrance for just a moment, before he was met with another rough landing. His stomach collided with the sandy desert floor, causing the boy to hesitate in pain. Without much more of a warning, Jou leaned to one side and retched.
Bakura
Bakura could not carry on running forever. He would not allow himself to do so. At any moment, Set could decide to turn back, and take on the almost defenceless Yugi, or even Ryou. The Pharaoh would be able to protect himself, but what about the hikari's? Bakura's ground his teeth as he ducked another attack.
In all honesty, he had lost sight of where Set was. He was fighting his way through a maze of golden statues, most of which were of Set's fellow Gods. Another relic shattered near to where Bakura was standing, and the man whirled around, suddenly wishing he had been able to scour these surroundings before taking any form of action against the God standing before him.
"Come now, Bakura… It's not like you to run away from a fight… Are you afraid?"
Bakura's mouth twitched up at the corners. "That's not like me, either." He retorted, before throwing himself to his left, darting in between numerous statues until he was certain Set was in front of him. He ran his fingers against the cool, smooth surfaces, thus reminding himself not to go completely berserk with this gie as he approached the God. With a look of glee fixed on his face, Bakura thrust his sword through the sculpture before him, breaking the gold before managing to slice its way through the God's decayed spinal cord.
Sure enough, this seemed to have had a desirable effect. The God's front arched forwards, and with a growl, the God reached behind him and, with a sickening grinding sound, the sword came back out.
Face contorted in a mixture of satisfaction and disgust at what he had just saw, Bakura turned on his heel and ran for the nearest statuette. Of course, the downsides to using that technique included losing a weapon of great use, and also that it gave away the man's position. He dodged behind several more of the elegant sculptures, hoping to confuse Set's sense of direction, if he dared to follow. Bakura saw beams of light headed in the direction he was standing in, and so threw himself at the floor, hurling himself between the parted legs of a statue of Anubis.
Sure as hell, the Anubis statue shattered, and the shards scattered onto Bakura's body. The last thing Bakura did was protect his head with his arms and hands before he felt the pieces collide with his body and head…
Jou
With what felt like most of his innards poured out onto the floor, Jou finally managed to haul himself to his feet… When his eyes met with that of a terrifying monster.
In effect, one would have had to be blind to not notice the beast. But as Jou stared up at the being, all thoughts of his friends, and of reasoning, fled his mind. He later felt guilty for doing so, but was soon reassured never to feel responsibility for one moment of fear, when death seemed inevitable.
Jou's chocolate coloured eyes absorbed the creature first. The thing's angular facial features glared through the darkness at him, which would have looked just as impressive, had it been any closer. Three whisker-like bolts shot from the side of this inhuman face, shielding the shoulders that held the offspring of wings. Bulked, intensely developed muscles gave Jou the distinct memory of a wrestler he had once seen on TV, although, he thought, terrified, as his eyes wandered lower, the warrior had actually been human. The beast has a serpent-like tail, which actually curled around the wings and emerged as a snake, baring its venomous fangs to the American boy.
Jou, like anyone else would in his situation, was horrified. Was this what had taken the lives' of his friends, or had it been guarding this entrance on the off chance another intruder would arrive? Had the being sensed his coming? Or was this an illusion, brought on by the sickness and paranoia that the darkness surrounding him could bring?
Nervously, Jou took a feeble step back. He vaguely wondered why, realising that once he stepped back, he had only aided the beast. For all know that it is easier to attack a target that is directly in front of you, not directly below you.
Just as Jou had prepared his weakened body to run in the opposite direction, the creature paused, apparently only just seeing him. The blank, uncoloured eyes gazed down at Jou, the light striking the creature's face in such a way that the being looked constantly angry.
A triangular fingernail pointed to Jou, rising slowly from the beast's side.
He said something in Egyptian that Jou could never hope to explain. However, if he had been able to interpret the long since dead language, Jou knew that he would have been unable to form a reply anyway – The creature's body was so impressive, enhanced by the dim light and height, that he doubted even Bakura would be able to hold his cocky attitude when facing this beast.
The beast's soulless eyes glared down at Jou, and he repeated what he had said just. This time, Jou managed a weak, pathetic response.
"I… Don't get whatcha sayin'… I… Can't understand ya…" He stuttered, barely able to form a sentence.
The beast did not move upon hearing this. However, Jou began to feel uneasy, and averted his gaze to the side.
He was going to die. He would never see his friends again… Tears formed in his eyes as he sensed the being above him shift, as if impatient. Jou stared back into the face of death, just a scared little boy that wanted nothing more than for this all to be a dream… Seto would not be in hospital, he would not be faced with the struggle of inhaling his last breath, and his friends would not be stuck in an impossibly difficult situation that Jou could only begin to comprehend.
Instead of unleashing the cobra's wrath upon his small (in comparison, at least) body, the creature considered Jou. Jou stared into the beast's blank, expressionless eyes, shoulders trembling.
Again, the being opened its mouth and uttered several words of a tongue that Jou did not understand. The blonde chewed on his lower lip anxiously, knowing that being unable to answer would aggravate it further, but what else could he do? Having a conversation in two totally different languages, when neither could understand the other, would only end in one way… Death. And judging by the size, strength and obvious emotional states that they both were in, Jou would be the one facing the cold, sandy floor, dying a coward.
"I don't know what you're saying…" Jou whined, gripping his hair frantically. "I don't get it…"
The beast repeated his previous statement – or question, which ever, advancing on the American – and Jou's knees connected with the dusty, vomit stained floor.
"I don't fuckin' get you!"
The cry resounded from the cave's walls, and the being above glared mercilessly down upon Jou's twitching form. Jou's eyebrows almost touched,
"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YA AT, BAKURA?" Jou screamed, now delusional from the idea of his upcoming death. The fingers that gripped his hair now tugged, beautiful blonde strands coming out in his hands, unbeknownst to the boy.
Diabound paused, cobra ceasing its shifting, the only sound in the chamber being that of Jou's heavy, frantic breathing, and the snake's quiet hissing near his head.
"Bakura?" The thing's voice asked, speaking in that deliciously foreign voice that it had.
At this familiar word, Jou's head raised. What a sight he looked! His knees were spread wide, feet propping him up, jeans slightly dusty from the desert floor. His face was pale, bangs falling into his left eyes ever so slightly, forced there by the hands holding the fringe in place, that still gripped blonde locks, as if they were sustaining him, keeping him alive.
Slowly, those hands lowered, and Jou's fringe shifted ever so slightly. He stared back into the eyes that he had previously thought would be his last sight before dying, now feeling less afraid of what was to come. Instead, he was more curious, and only talking back to the beast before him would slake this.
"Bakura?" Jou asked cautiously, undecided as to if this being was a friend or foe to the Thief. He pushed himself off of the ground, and slowly stood, bringing himself back up to his usual height. He didn't feel so small anymore.
Diabound gave a nod, and his long snake tail swished across the sand, as if it was as smooth as silk. The creature murmured the grave robber's name again, and carried on to say more in his own tongue. Jou simply nodded.
"He's in a shit-load of trouble." Jou tried, to no avail. He had just interrupted the large beast, with very limited ways of communicating to him what was actually happening. Glancing around on the floor near him, Jou grinned. He had an idea.
Picking up a pebble from the gritty ground, he began to draw in the sand, in the style that was used frequently in Egyptian tombs. He drew Bakura's hair (badly), and drew someone ready to attack him. Sure, the figures were only stick men with heads and hair, but it seemed to get the message across to the deadly being before him.
Diabound considered the drawings for a moment, and at length spoke of Bakura again. His words were spoken harshly but quickly, and although Jou would undoubtedly never understand them, he knew instinctively that the creature was anxious about something – Most probably, Bakura.
Jou nodded as Diabound used one of his long fingernails to scrape a message into the ground, conveyed through drawings so that Jou would be able to understand. Jou watched in awe, as the beast's deceivingly nimble and gentle hand moved to help create a well-sketched image. It showed Bakura with what seemed to be a sword, shafted between his ribs, with three horrified onlookers.
Jou nodded immediately, smiling to try and show to his foreign companion that he was going along the right lines.
At this affirmation, Diabound's cobra approached Jou silkily, sliding gracefully across the desert floor, and Jou slowly stood at his actual height. Although he was not aware of any fear towards snakes, he knew when to be wary, and give reasons for why he felt this way.
The snake flickered its tongue out, almost touching Jou's face. The boy tried not to blink, recalling what he had once seen one time during class, staring into the cobra's eyes evenly.
Without warning, Diabound's hand, that was nothing smaller than the size of two computer desks in width, scooped Jou up, causing the boy to cry out in shock, the cry turning into a scream when he saw the thing's features closer up. Everything seemed to have changed colour. Initially, the being had appeared to be varying shades of grey, but now that Jou's eyes were not clouded with fear, or expectations of what Diabound should look like, his body was many shades of brown. Blinking, Jou sat in the palm of the creature's hand, holding onto the block-like hill of a finger that had curled over to give the teenager something to hold onto.
Diabound murmured a few more words, and Jou vaguely saw the being's other arm curl back, an orb of light appearing in the palm of his hand. Taking rough aim, Diabound forced the magic forwards, flying out of his hand to collide with the walls of the tomb.
Jou's cries of surprise were suppressed by the deafening sound of debris falling onto the desert floor.
"BAKURA!" Diabound snarled, his voice's deep, loud vibrations muting everything for Jou once more. Another glowing sphere appeared in Diabound's hand, and he curled his arms around his head, hoping against hope that his hearing wouldn't be shot after this.
Through the mufflers against sound that were also known as his arms, Jou could hear the roar of the beast he was perched on, a battle cry so hauntingly shrill he thought he felt his entire body shake.
What the FUCK had he gotten himself into?
Yami's koi: An update… A shit one… But still an update. Reviews will make me write more.