A/N: Fifteen pages! This long chapter will definitely make up for the short one last time. I'm also hoping the title of this fanfic will make more sense after this chapter and next chapter. As always, thank you everyone for ALL for the feedback on the story and I'll see you guys in the next chapter!
V.
Anzu and her friends had arrived at the Domino Museum in time to meet the large man, Bobasa, outside. She had balked at the appearance of the Sennen Items in his stomach, yet had peered suspiciously at the Ankh and Scales. She could not be sure if those were the actual Items, as his appearance was, in Anzu's opinion, suspiciously coincidental. She had kept her thoughts to herself, however, wondering if this was part of Bakura's master plan.
"He's gone," Yuugi wept after the light had flashed in front of the stone tablet. Jounouchi and Honda had been exclaiming over the similarities between the tablet and Yuugi when it had happened. One moment, they had been standing next to the pharaoh discussing the tablet and the next, Yuugi was collapsed on the ground, sobbing. Anzu's heart constricted painfully for him, but she could not bring herself to comfort him. She was afraid that she would spill all of the details of Bakura's plan to him in an effort to calm him.
Instead, she stood at the edge next to Ryou, watching as Jounouchi helped him to his feet. Bobasa was strangely quiet, watching the scene with a detachment akin to robot. There was something about him that she did not quite trust.
There's no way that Shadii sent him with the Sennen Items, she thought as the others chatted with Bobasa, trying to find a way into the pharaoh's memories. He has to be someone that Bakura sent forward – his distraction, as he put it.
"We shall use the scales," Bobasa declared, holding up the Sennen Scales. "With these, they will weigh your heart and only then will you be able to go into the Puzzle."
At those words, Anzu's heart sank in response.
Yuugi, Jounouchi, and Honda each passed. When Bobasa stepped towards Anzu, she looked up to meet his eyes and wanted to step back. His eyes seemed vacant – dead, even. It was as if nothing was there. The scales shuddered to one side and then swung to the other. He announced, "You are good!"
He moved on to Ryou, who he announced could not come with them. Ryou broke into tears at this news and ran off before Anzu was even given a chance to call out to him. Perhaps it was Bakura's use of her friend, but she felt a good deal more guilty at having Ryou rejected from the pharaoh's memories than anything else. She could only imagine how excluded he felt, as he was often being possessed by one person or another. She wished that she could have explained to him, at least, what was happening. It was better that he was not being transported into the pharaoh's memories. Maybe he would be safer this way.
Bobasa had the group line up in front of the tablet and then there was a bright flash that nearly blinded Anzu. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, cringing back from the tablet. Several seconds later, the light finally began to fade and she blinked, staring around her. She was left outside the tablet alone, causing her to question if something had gone awry. After another glance around, she saw that all of the other museum visitors were standing immobile around her like mannequins. It was eerily silent around her.
"Frozen in time," Bakura's rough voice said from somewhere behind her. Turning, she saw him standing outside an open side door that she had not noticed previously. Recalling the last time she had seen him, her cheeks suffused with colour and she dearly hoped she was too far away for him to notice. "Your friends are in here. We have work to do." He swept a hand towards the inside room and after a last look towards the frozen bodies, she made her way towards the door.
Stepping inside, she halted a few feet in as she caught sight of the large diorama that sat atop a golden table. Sitting on one side of the table was a sprawled figure leaning against the table. It was the pharaoh. On the other side of him was another tall-backed chair and a mummy leaning against the wall. Staring around, she saw her friends lying peacefully in golden open sarcophagi. There were shadows playing around the room, making her aware that she was no longer in the museum, but in the shadow realm. She could think of no other explanation.
"Zorc Necrophades is in here," Bakura told her, walking past and up the steps to the diorama. She followed at a slower pace, her eyes sliding to the pharaoh. He seemed to be slumbering on the table, though she was sure he had been knocked out when he had been transported to the shadow realm. "Their spirits are all in this diorama, which is an exact replica of the pharaoh's memories as they are in the Puzzle. That's where we're going."
"You haven't told me what, exactly, we're supposed to be doing in there," Anzu spoke at last. Her voice was uneven and she clamped down on the disquiet that had begun to form.
"Finding the pharaoh's name before Yuugi does," he replied. "With his name, his memory of his power will return. Zorc Necrophades is going to be working to slow Yuugi and the others down and the pharaoh will be too busy reliving the past."
"Do you remember where to find it?" she asked curiously.
He frowned. "No. That part of my memory is obscured." He waved a hand casually. "But it doesn't matter. Part of my spirit will be in the diorama, the other part will be up here, playing the game. If we're lucky, Zorc Necrophades will not interrupt this RPG, but I've pulled the mummy in case he does. I don't need him suspecting my true intentions. He can assume that I am trying to help him with Akhenaden's mummy lying there."
"You've thought of everything," she mused aloud. "Now let's just hope it goes smoothly."
"There is no hoping," he said to her, clasping her wrist as the Sennen Ring began to glow, "only what will and will not be."
With this cryptic mark, there was a flash of light. When she blinked to clear her eyes, aggravated at being blinded again, she felt herself suddenly crashing into a warm, flowing surface. Sputtering at the hot sand, she sat up, rapidly shaking her head like an animal to dislodge the sand from her hair. Beside her, Bakura was kneeling, one arm slung over his knees as he peered out across the desert. Following his gaze, she sucked in a shocked breath.
"Is this – ?"
"Ancient Egypt," he cut in before she could finish the question. "As it was in the pharaoh's memory – and my own."
It appeared they were at the edge of a remote village. A collection of children screamed delightedly, running around each other at the edge where horses were tethered. There was a single well at the end of the village and there was a man pulling out a pail of water. Two village men stood chatting near the horses dressed in loose, linen garb.
Anzu rose to her feet slowly, unable to help from gaping at the scene. It was exactly as she had seen in history books. If not for the fact that she and Bakura were standing in their very modern clothing, she would not have known that they did not belong. He stood to stand next to her, folding his arms as he frowned at the village.
"Where are we?" she asked him, glancing around, noticing that the desert stood at their back. "It looks like we're in the middle of nowhere."
"This is the old village," he said in a muted voice.
"What?" Anzu cast him a blank stare. "What old village?"
"The one after Kul Elna – the new thief's village." His frown hardened and he shook his head suddenly. "There's no point in going there, the pharaoh's name won't be there."
"Well, wait a second, Bakura," she protested, grabbing at his arm before he decided to walk off. "Why not check it out anyway? We might be able to get a clue, at least." He cast her an annoyed glance that she ignored as she headed in the direction of the village. She thought he would go on without her, but was surprised when she heard his footsteps following behind. As she passed the men chatting, she looked at them, puzzled, when they did not even stir upon their appearance.
"They can't see us," Bakura told her. "This is entirely based off of mine and the pharaoh's memories and nothing more."
"That's convenient," she mumbled to herself.
As they walked through the village, Anzu caught snippets of conversation, though none of it sounded like that of a thieving village. Girls talked about boys they liked and the necklaces they were making, boys guffawed over strange games they played out on small tables, and the adults seemed preoccupied with talking about politics and agricultural problems. It was not until they drew further into the village that she caught sight of a rough-looking crowd coming out of what must have been the equivalent of a tavern, laughing loudly and shoving each other jovially. She caught the sight of wicked swords hanging from their waist and took a step back even though they could no more harm her than she could them.
Stepping into the tavern, she stood at the back with Bakura, her brow furrowing. Bakura had said that the diorama was a dark, table RPG played in the shadow realm. In every game she had ever played with Ryou or her friends, the heroes always went to a tavern for information and usually the first stop was with the bartender. Recalling the last time she had played an RPG with Bakura, she shifted uncomfortably and glanced at him. That had been when Ryou had tried taking control and he had plunged his hand in a turret.
He had not noticed her gaze. He was watching a table of men in the corner and, upon following his gaze, she understood why. They appeared to be guards of the pharaoh from their outfits. Walking over to the table, Anzu planted a hand on her hip, lifting a hand to Bakura on the other side of the room in a, 'What are you waiting for?' gesture. Grudgingly, he crossed the tavern to join her, standing on the other side of the group with his arms folded.
"Any luck, boys?" a busty woman asked as she served them another round of wine.
"Not today," one of the older men reported, giving her a grim nod. "But it won't be long until we find Bakura. Robbing the pharaoh's father's tomb that way...it cannot be forgiven. We will not rest until he is captured." He gripped his cup tightly and then drank deeply.
"We've caught his trail a couple times," the younger guard said excitedly, eager to capture the attention of the female. She obligingly leaned over for him to see the full scale of her ample bosom, pretending to listen to him interestedly. Flushing, his eyes finding their target, he continued on, "Every time we seem to get to close to him, he runs off." He leaned over, grinning up at her. "He's faster, but we're smarter. We'll capture him by trapping him soon enough."
"Are you boys planning to stay here for the night?" the woman said, now leaning even closer to the younger guard. She flicked her hair away from her shoulder and the man looked as if he were about to spend himself at the table without even touching her. The other men were trying, and failing, to avert their gaze with the exception of the older guard.
"No," the older guard firmly said, glaring daggers at his younger companion, who sank in his seat guiltily. "We'll be leaving directly. Thank you."
"This village is near enough to the capital city, Thebes, and the palace," Bakura said thoughtfully from the other side of the table as the woman collected herself reluctantly and left the men, taking the hint directed towards her. "If I remember correctly, I had robbed the tomb and gone straight to the palace."
Anzu rounded the table, watching the curvy woman saunter to another table with her mouth twisted in disgust. She had been selfishly glad to see that Bakura had watched the scene with clinical interest without taking any notice of the woman's assets thusly displayed. She had to remind herself that where his eyes went was none of her business, as she had no personal attachment to him outside of a few stolen kisses. Or so she told herself.
"Should we go to the palace?"
"The pharaoh may not let us in. Those memories will be guarded. Yuugi and the others will likely be there, as well. They'll be wanting to get close to him." He looked around the tavern. "But it would be good to go into the city. By the time we get there, it should be dark. We need to avoid Zorc Necrophades. He will be keeping a close eye on your friends and moving about. The further we are from them, the less chance we will have of running into them." Anzu nodded and followed him outside the tavern as he turned to leave.
As she stepped out, she paused upon feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. Raising a hand, she blocked the sun and peered up into the bright sky that seemed to reflect the hues of yellow from the sand. She could hear the sound of the wind in the desert, a low-pitched whine that she would not hear otherwise with the buildings in Domino. It was strange to imagine a world with so little infrastructure, yet an entire civilization living in such a remote area.
Dropping her hand, she did a quick jog to catch up to Bakura, who was easy to spot even in the collection of people in the village as they both stuck out with their pale skin and modern clothing.
She had expected that traveling through the desert would be much like trekking through a hot summer's day. Instead, the journey seemed to go smoother than anticipated. She was sure it was because they did not really exist in the memory world and everything was much shorter since it was only based on a memory rather than reality. Rather than the days it might have taken them to get from one point to the other, it instead took hours to get to Thebes. By that time, the sun had dipped dangerously low and sunset was beginning to settle over the city.
She was unsure what it was that Bakura was looking for in the city. He had been eerily silent during their walk through the desert, only speaking when she asked a question. She did not dare ask him why he had gone quiet. Something told her that being thrown back into his own memory was as disorienting for him as it was for the pharaoh and she could not help but wonder how much he remembered.
She listened to the conversations as they walked through the narrow alleys of Thebes, catching pieces of information that she stored for use later. She heard mentions of the tomb robber on several occasions, something called a 'ka,' and High Priests. None of this made sense to her and she dared not ask Bakura in case he was listening for something specific.
As they came to a quiet area of Thebes, Bakura slowed down to a stop, tipping his head up to look up. If possible, his frown had deepened. Following his gaze, she froze upon seeing a man perched on the edge of a building, his pose looking suspicious similar to the one that Bakura had taken when she had crashed into the sand as soon as they arrived. She could not see him well, but could see starkly white-blonde hair similar to Malik Ishtar's and the deep, nut brown of the Egyptians. He was wearing only a red tunic robe with no shirt beneath it and what appeared to be linen breeches. She saw the glint of gold around his neck, wrists, and even his ankles, but could not catch his features. He did not, she noticed, seem to be aware of his surroundings and was peering into the building beside it.
"That's right," Bakura said next to her, as if forgetting she was there. "I had forgotten." For once, there was the unmistakable tone of bitterness lacing his words.
Confused, she opened her mouth to ask him what was going on, and then heard a voice from above them that made her blood go ice cold.
"I thought I told you not to come back," the voice said accusingly.
Looking up, she stared open-mouthed at the female that was standing at the balcony facing the building the male was perched upon. Her dark brown hair was obscured by the gold and beaded headband, but there was no mistaking the voice.
"I was in the area," came the flippant reply that was so like Bakura's voice that she had to glance at him to ascertain he had not spoken.
"Yes, I've heard what you've been up to," the girl answered and she braced her hands on the balcony. "I don't think this is a good idea."
He laughed briefly. "That's because you and those idiot guards you hang out with are his friends."
She folded her arms and even from the ground, Anzu could see the frown settling on her tanned features, the flash of conflict in her dark azure eyes. Abruptly, the thief rose to the tips of his feet and nimbly jumped from the building onto the balcony. The girl took a step back from him, her eyes narrowing warningly.
"I offered you a deal before – you or the pharaoh," he said to her, no longer laughing. "If you had gone with me, I wouldn't have gone through with this plan."
"That's not what you said," she returned hotly. "You asked me to go with you, yes, but you never told me that you were going to give up on this stupid revenge scheme of yours! I didn't go with you because I thought you were still going to kill him. I would never – you know I couldn't do that, knowing you were going to kill him one day."
"I'm giving you that option now."
She shook her head. "You're not the only one in there anymore, Bakura." She shot him a pointed look. "I know where you got that ka. I don't know what you did, but that...thing...isn't normal. It's going to end up killing you."
He spread his hands out carelessly, leaning his elbows against the balcony as he lounged against it. "There are some things you need to sacrifice in order to get power. This will help me take down the pharaoh and his incessantly meddlesome priests."
There was a long, agonizing pause where Anzu watched the pair. All she could see of the thief was the back of his head and the girl's face was turned towards her. She saw her purse her lips and then closed her eyes tightly, a pained expression crossing her face. Breathing out, the girl turned around and stepped in front of him, reaching up to take his face in her hands.
"I can't betray my friends," she told him. "I'm sorry."
"I know," he replied a bit too lightly. "I knew your answer before I came here."
"What if you die trying to do this? Did you ever think of that?"
"Yes, which is why I came to say goodbye."
There was another strained silence and she gave him a watery smile. "I really, really hate you. You always make me cry. It's just like last time."
Anzu turned away from the scene, no longer able to stomach it. It was unbearable.
The sun had already dipped, leaving the alley in shadows. Gazing around, she realized that she was once again alone. Panic-stricken, she hurried down the alley where she and Bakura had entered and found it empty. Returning back to where she had been standing, she glanced up, but the pair were no longer on the balcony. Hurrying down the alley, she found Bakura leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, watching a child peddle his wares to an elderly man.
"What gives?" she snapped, her heartbeat slowing now that she knew she was not in this strange memory world by herself. "You didn't even tell me that you had left!"
"There wasn't anything else to see," he said in response, straightening up from the wall.
"But why did we even end up here?" she persisted. "You didn't talk the whole time we were walking through the city."
"I could remember the route," Bakura said in a detached voice, "but not where it led. Only part of my memories are distinct."
Anzu felt the question burning in her, yet hesitated. It was clear by the expectant air between them that he was waiting for her to voice it. She was not so sure she had the courage. It made perfect sense that since Ryou was Bakura's reincarnation and Kaiba also was reincarnated that she would have one, as well. By the mention of the guards, she would guess that both Jounouchi and Honda were, as well. It appeared that the group of them had been brought together by fate and their past selves more than mere chance.
It was not so much her reincarnation that bothered her, though, but the relationship that she clearly had with Bakura and the all-too-familiar similarities between the conversations. In the past, she, too, had tried to save the pharaoh's life by helping him just as she had done in Battle City.
"Interesting, isn't it?" Bakura spoke up when she said nothing. "How easily the past catches up the present. Yuugi and Kaiba were fated to be enemies and you – " He broke off, his gaze sliding to her inquisitively.
"I was what?" she demanded. In her nervousness, she had instinctively opted for anger to cover up the confusing feelings bubbling beneath the surface. "Fated to make bargains with you? That's stupid, Bakura. There's no such thing as that." Anger, added with a lie in order to brush off what she had just seen. She did not need to look at him to sense his irritation with her. "We're wasting time here. Aren't we supposed to be looking for the pharaoh's name?"
Feeling his ire directed at her back, she hurried down an alley, away from the child and the retreating back of the elderly customer. The alley she stepped into was darker than she expected and a glance up made her realize that sundown had fallen swiftly. Just as she had done so, she felt Bakura's hand grip her arm and pull her back roughly. Wincing, she shook his hand off and glared up at him. She would have stormed away, but he had blocked her in, his hands planted on either side of her head upon the alley wall.
"The pharaoh can wait for one damn moment in his entire existence," he hissed savagely. "It was always like that then, too. How do you think that scene happened? This wasn't the first night I tried to kill the pharaoh. When I went into the wrong room, who did I find but you? And you tried to reason with me, made a deal with me to try to get him to fix what his father had done. Afterwards, I still had to hear about him. I die and come back in the Ring and have to listen about him from you even then!"
Bakura had worked himself into an unbridled state of rage that Anzu had never seen him in. She sank back against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes. She was not fearful he was going to kill her, but he had almost always been even-toned and controlled with her most times, even in the midst of danger. She would have liked to had been cowed into submission; after the initial shock of his shouting, though, she raised herself to her fullest height, which was still shorter than him and glared up at him fiercely.
"It was not always like that!" she spat, even though she really had no idea whether it was like that or not. She was not even aware that she was arguing on behalf of an ancient version of herself. "There's nothing wrong with not wanting you to kill my friend!"
"Friend," he repeated disgustedly. "You fawned over him then, too."
"I didn't and I don't!" She felt her cheeks reddening at the lie, knowing full well that she had, in fact, done a good deal of fawning over the pharaoh when he had first emerged as Yuugi.
A foreboding gleam entered Bakura's eyes and he leaned down into her, a dark, twisted smile appearing. "It's not as if the fawning lasts long, does it? No matter what lifetime, you keep finding your way to me instead of him."
"I can change that this time," she retorted, though she was trembling slightly as she said it.
"Liar." He almost spoke the word on her lips before he was kissing her roughly, biting down a bit harder than necessary on her lower lip. Frustrated, she dug her nails into his arms as they engaged in a fierce battle to overpower the other. Perhaps predictably, Anzu lost. She could no more deny her attraction to him than she could fate from throwing them together again.
She submitted to him, releasing her nails from him and thoroughly melting against him. She knew he felt the surrender as soon as he raised his head from her. She expected him to draw away and laugh, perhaps taunt her, and walk away. She was surprised then when he abruptly tugged her down the alleyway. Startled, she had to pick up her feet to keep up with him, though he only went a short distance. He pulled open a door and when Anzu peered inside, she saw that it was what looked like someone else's lodgings. He closed the door behind her swiftly.
She was unsure why he had taken her there or how he had known it was there, but just as her eyes noticed the bed in the other room, he had dragged her inside and tossed her on the bed without an explanation. "Wh-what are you doing?" she sputtered, her eyes darting to the doorway as he flicked the curtain over it. "This is someone's house!"
"Yes," he said with a brief scowl, "mine."
She had no time to register this before he had climbed onto the bed with her, covering her. As soon as he kissed her, she knew there would be no interruptions. The warmth of his body seeped into her and ignoring the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, she ran her fingers along the strong lines of his shoulders and biceps, burning the feeling of him into her mind. Her fingers danced down to the bottom of his shirt and she hesitated a beat before slipping her fingers beneath the cloth.
By the time he was shrugging his shirt off, she was thoroughly dizzy and flushed from his kisses. As he slipped her own top off, she felt her stomach jump uncomfortably. She might have looked into her anxiety further if he had not at that moment dipped his head to her breast at that moment and his tongue swiped at the hardened rose-pink bud. Every thought knocking from her mind, she gasped weakly and fell back against the bed. His other hand had somehow crept its way along her hip, stroking down, down to her thigh and sliding up beneath her skirt.
Just as his fingers found the center between her legs, his lips closed over her nipple, his teeth skating over the sensitive flesh before his lips closed around her, suckling. A moan escaped her throat, her hips rising up, pressing herself into his hand. The intense longing she had been experiencing for weeks was raging in her, demanding satiation and she knew she could not step away from him now.
When his body left her, leaving a cool air passing over her stomach, she blinked in the dim lighting, thinking he was once again going to leave her after teasing her. However, his hands had taken hers and guided them to his pants. "Take them off," he told her in a husky voice. Flushing, but obeying the command, she awkwardly unbuttoned them and then slid them down his narrow hips. She bit her lip, blushing at the sight of his naked body. She felt as though the breath had been stolen from her chest and for a moment, she struggled to teach herself to breathe again.
His hands slid around her waist, found the clasp of her skirt and the fabric fell away easily followed by the thin silk beneath. And, as he forced her on her back again, she felt her body tense as his fingers found the moist, sensitive center between her legs.
"Bakura," she whimpered, straining against his hand as he slid a finger idly through the slick folds of her. There was a wicked smirk on his face – he knew he was torturing her. Her body arched up achingly and she had no idea what she needed, only that what he was doing was not enough. Tauntingly, he slid one finger inside of her, stretching her, and she tossed her head to the side, biting down on a finger to stifle the cry.
"Is this it?" he drawled. "Is this what you want?"
She could not answer, struggling with breathing as he slipped the finger in and out of her. And then, when she did not reply, he slid another finger inside and she nearly sobbed as he stretched her further, yet still her body craving more.
"No," she moaned helplessly, still unsure why her body seemed to only want more pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. The sensation made her entire core tighten with need. "Please, Bakura..."
He chuckled, a low rumble in the silence of the room, and then his fingers left her and she released the breath she had been holding. She felt his mouth on her breasts, kissing them, firing up her nerves as frissons cascaded through her and then his mouth was drifting along her body. It was a languid journey and when he lifted her leg to kiss the inside of her thigh, her lower belly tightened instinctively at the nearness of him. And when his next kiss landed on the swollen nubbin between her legs, she cried out. His tongue flicked at it, teasing her, and then dipping into the coil of hot moisture, tasting the sweetness there.
She was sure he was going to continue his torturous descent, but a moment later, he had raised himself above her and she became aware of the feel of something hard pressing insistently where his tongue had just been, his hand pressing her thighs apart.
Without thinking, her hips rose as though of their own accord and he sank himself into her, slowly as he broke her initial barrier.
"Oh!" The gasp tore from her as, with one last thrust, he had sheathed himself in her. There was a slight twinge of pain, but it was overwhelmed by the sudden wave of satisfaction. When he moved slowly in her, the small bit of pain faded and she realized that the pleasure of his fingers was nothing compared to the feeling of himself in her.
Naïve as she was, she thought that she would be satisfied with the slow strokes, but soon she became impatient. She followed her body's instincts, raising her hips against his thrusts, dragging her fingers down his back.
He growled against her shoulder, murmuring her name, and when he began to thrust faster, harder, she felt an unfurling of something within her, like a wave about to crash into the beach.
Abruptly, he pulled his face from her shoulder and took her hands from his back, his fingers interlocking with hers. He had such an intense gaze on his face that it was hard to look away initially. But then, what seemed like a few short moments later, she had to close her eyes and cry out as he thrust deeper into her, harder, and something came undone inside her. She heard his strangled groan and they were both still, breathing hard.
When he pulled away from her at last, she felt the warm stickiness between her legs, though she did not question it or even bother trying to clean herself up. She was still breathless and her heart was still beating fast in her ears. Instead, she rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes, suddenly so exhausted and yet relaxed. She heard Bakura shuffling something around and then felt a blanket tossed over her.
As reality settled over her several minutes later, she blinked open her eyes to find Bakura laying next to her with his arm beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling with a brooding expression. She asked quietly, "What about the pharaoh's name?"
"Later," he said, glancing at her through the corner of his eye. Then, upon looking at her, he scooped her against him with an arm and tucked her head beneath his chin. "It can wait."
She pressed her cheek against his bare chest and smiled to herself, comforted by the feel of his body. She would take this moment for now.
Anzu did not address what had happened the night prior. She was too embarrassed and after cleaning herself up with the fresh water he had pulled for a bath, she had spent her time pacing while he bathed, trying to determine if losing one's virginity in the shadow realm in a memory world would count in the present.
As she ran this through her head several times, she continued to come to the same conclusion of how positively inane it was to wonder such a thing in the middle of a larger crisis. Not only were they still no nearer to knowing where to find the pharaoh's name, but she now had the reality of her past self and past relationship with Bakura to haunt her mind.
Halting her pacing, she chewed on the end of her thumb anxiously, staring around the small room. She could hear Bakura getting dressed in the bedroom and tried not to think too closely about how beautiful his naked body had been last night. If her mind went down that route again, she would be offering herself to him for a second round that morning and she was feeling rather sore down there.
Shaking that thought away, she scanned the room and her brow wrinkled in confusion. There were signs of domesticity here, though clearly not recent. She had noticed after waking up that there had a been a woman's comb in the bedroom and there were small touches that made her wonder just who Bakura had lived here with before he had abandoned it in the past. Recalling her past self, she concluded that this must have been their meeting spot. She doubted that anyone would have accepted any woman having relations with the infamous thief.
Turning away, she dragged a hand through her hair. Bakura has the luxury of still having his memories, Anzu thought, but it's not like I can pull any memories from a past life. I don't know what was happening before past me met Bakura or how we came to be so close.
Then again, Anzu was still trying to figure out how her current self had become so close to him.
Hearing a sound behind her, she glanced over her shoulder, her hand still in her hair. Bakura's hair was partially dry and he had just pulled his shirt over his head. She wished her heart would stop feeling as though someone were clenching a fist around it when she looked at him.
"Ready?" she asked in an attempt at a bright voice, smoothing her hair out self-consciously.
He gestured towards the door with a grunt and she led the way out, stepping into the narrow street, feeling the warm air hit her. It had been surprisingly cool within the stone home. For a moment, the pair stood gazing around them, Anzu with her hands on her hips. Bakura had said very little to her that morning outside of informing her that he was getting water. The experience was making her feel thoroughly used and self-conscious, not to mention rather stupid for giving herself up so quickly. The longer she lingered on that thought, though, the more ashamed she felt and she refused to feel shame for engaging in that with him. She would not let his bad attitude ruin it for her.
They made their way down through the alleys of the city, pausing occasionally to listen when they found groups of people, and eventually the narrow streets opened out into a bazaar. As they walked through the colourful stalls, there was a buzz of conversation amongst the shopkeepers. Anzu caught several of them discussing the tomb robber and how the pharaoh had chased him out of the palace. At another point in her life, Anzu might have been thrilled to even hear the pharaoh mentioned. Now, she simply took in the information with half an ear and wished she had never met either of them.
She wanted to focus on the matter at hand, but found it difficult. Every time she heard the shopkeepers mention the tomb robber, her stomach did a horrible jump into her chest. She pretended to stare at a collection of golden trinkets, listening half-heartedly to a shopkeeper talk to his customer about the High Priests and the pharaoh's ka, still not understanding the majority of their conversation. She could not do anything with any of the items, yet still touched a finger to one of the golden bangles. Her finger followed the smooth golden surface, wondering whether it was pure gold or if another metal had been added to it.
After the customer departed, she stopped fingering the bangle and sighed, turning and looking around. Bakura was at the end of the bazaar, his hair looking more wild than usual after air-drying. She was unsure if he had been quiet that morning more for her or himself. It was obvious by his reaction last night that the sight of their past selves together had unsettled him, not that he would ever admit to it. While he had always been hard to read, he now had closed himself off to such an extent that even if Anzu had wanted to know if he were annoyed, he would not have shown it. There was an alien detachment to him and she wondered if he was trying to stomp down the feelings of resentment that had risen to the surface yesterday. It did not make him the best of company.
Reluctantly, she made her way towards him.
"There's nothing useful here," he said to her without preamble. "The pharaoh's name won't be here."
Anzu made a quick inspection of the sun's position in the sky. They had slept late into the day and had already spent a good portion of the day wandering Thebes listening to conversations. By the time they left Thebes and decided on their next destination, it would be dark again. She was unsure how much time they had left in this memory world.
"Where should we go?" Anzu asked with a tiny frown. "I don't know about you, but half of what these people are saying doesn't make sense to me. I don't know what a ka is or who the High Priests are. I have no idea where to look to find the pharaoh's name."
"A ka is the demon spirit trapped within a person," Bakura answered distractedly, his eyes scanning the alleys that led away from the open market. "It's the equivalent of a Duel Monster, but instead of being trapped in a card, they are in stone tablets or within a person that can be called upon. The pharaoh has three ka under his command – the three gods. And I had Diabound, Zorc Necrophades' spirit. Before, I never had a ka spirit to use." He pointed to an alleyway. "There. That will lead us out of Thebes and south, towards Kul Elna and the Valley of the Kings."
Anzu followed him, saying, "But how did you get Diabound?"
"Through a contract. I made a deal that Zorc Necrophades could use my body if I was given control of Diabound. I was unaware at the time that he had decided to consume my spirit, as well."
She made to ask another question and then thought better of it. She was not sure if talking excessively of Zorc Necrophades would bring his attention to them. She was not even sure where he was in the world or who was playing the pieces in the dark RPG. Instead, she asked him, "Why are we going south?"
"For better direction." He stopped in the alley, turning to her. It was the first time he had made eye contact with her all day. His eyes were dark – darker than she remembered. "Every pharaoh builds his tomb before his death. We should be able to find what part of the Valley of the Kings the pharaoh's tomb is based on where his father's is located. I don't remember where I stole his mummy from, but we should be able to find out. There's a small village outside of the Valley of the Kings, near Kul Elna. We'll stay out there tonight to find out where Akhenamkhanen's tomb is. From there, we can find the tomb we need to find the name in the Valley of the Kings."
Anzu nodded slowly, but did not immediately follow him as he continue to walk. She was reminded of her recurring nightmares and the long, stone tunnel. The dream had repeated enough times that it made her question whether it had been a memory or simply an omen of the future.
"Bakura," she called, catching up to him. "Before we go, I have a question."
"And? Spit it out," Bakura replied impatiently, continuing to walk forward.
"Do you know...how I died? The past me, I mean?"
This question succeeded in making him stop walking. She eyed his back uncertainly and in spite of the Egyptian sun, she felt cold. After several seconds passed, he turned his head and levelled his gaze upon her again. "Why?"
Taking note of the guarded look in his eyes, she shrugged. Mentioning the dream did not seem to be a wise decision at the moment based on his mood. "I just wanted to know."
He frowned and his gaze slid from her. "I don't remember," he said at last. "Come on, let's go."
Accepting the closure of the topic, Anzu followed him silently. It did not sound like he was lying. If anything, he had seemed more frustrated at his lack of memory than her invasive question. It was reminiscent of the pharaoh and his reaction any time he struggled to regain memories. Pushing aside the uncomfortable premonition of danger that was attached with her nightmares, she instead followed him through Thebes until they exited the city. There were more guards about and she saw more groups of people milling around the city.
Once in the desert, she was grateful for the quiet landscape. They trekked through the sands, Anzu removing her shoes at one point as she kept stumbling up sand dunes and getting an uncomfortable amount of sand in her shoes. At one point, she had stopped at the base of the sand dune and shaded her eyes to look up at Bakura, who was waiting on the top, his hair blowing in the wind. He knelt down, resting his forearms on the tops of his thighs, peering down at her with an unreadable expression.
How did this happen? she asked herself, meeting his eyes across the sand. She wondered if he was asking the same question, noticing the deep frown on his lips. How did a simple deal with the spirit of the Sennen Ring turn into this? Dropping her hand, she lowered her head and began the grueling ascent up the steep slope. It's not just a matter of having been reincarnated – it can't just be that. I was interested in him before any of that. I had felt bad for him, like he had been misunderstood, and turns out, he was.
She stopped at the top of the slope, panting slightly. Bakura had stood up and she looked out at the stretch of sand that still lied before them. The sun was making its way to the other horizon, causing her to fear that they would be out in the desert when night fell.
Turning back to him, she scowled up into his face, suddenly irrationally angry with him. He arched a brow at her expression. "This is all your fault!" she exploded.
As though knowing where her thoughts had landed, he quipped, "Is it? Was it I who approached you asking for help?" He flashed her a nasty, insincere smile. "Oh, that's right – it was you."
"You kissed me!" she returned, her bright eyes narrowing. She was frustrated by the tears that were stinging her eyes. She did not want to cry in front of him, let alone tell him why she was crying in the first place. "All I was asking for was that you work with Yuugi. I didn't ask for the rest of this – for last night!"
He broke into laughter, albeit a hollow, empty sort of laughter. "I suppose you had planned for that to be with the pharaoh," he remarked, a corner of his mouth curving up. "Next time, maybe you'll stay away from both of us and save yourself the trouble, then." He made to turn around and without thinking, Anzu grabbed him, forcing him to turn and swung her fist at him.
There was a breathless pause after her fist collided.
Bakura seemed strangely impressed, wiping the blood from where his lip split, raising his eyebrows at the red on his fingers. Anzu still had her fist raised and was staring at it in disbelief. She had hit Jounouchi plenty of times in the past when he had been bullying Yuugi, but since he and Yuugi had become friends, she had little reason to throw punches.
The rage that had triggered the punch had drained and as she lowered her hand, she was awash in regret. Hitting Bakura would not turn back time and, she realized belatedly, he was the wrong person to be directing her anger towards. She knew, as little as she liked it, that it had been the pharaoh's introduction into her life that had caused these series of events – that is, if she did not believe in fate.
"Feel better?" Bakura asked her mildly.
"You had no right to say that about me," she said in a quiet voice, clenching her fists at her side. "I didn't plan to do anything with him. I just liked him. It wasn't the same. Don't presume – "
"What?" he interrupted. "Your association with me, little Anzu, only began because you wanted the pharaoh to feel better. It had nothing to do with your own feelings or Yuugi's, let alone mine."
"It wasn't just that!"
"Such an expert little liar you've become," he said sneeringly and he looked menacing as he advanced upon her. "Don't pretend to yourself that your motives have ever been for anyone else but him." He caught her chin roughly in his hand, forcing her head back. "I always see right through you. I'll let you in on a little secret – he doesn't care about you, and he doesn't like women, either. Why do you think he has no wife in his memories? Think about that for a minute." With a jerk of his hand, he had released her and stepped back, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked away from her, making his way down the other side of the sand dune that had ascended.
"I already knew that," she said stiffly to his retreating back. He paused, appraising her with an icy stare over his shoulder. "I told you when I first talked to you that I knew he wasn't interested in me. It's not hard to see how he feels about Yuugi. I'm not stupid like you apparently think I am."
He chuckled without humor. "That's the problem. I don't think you're stupid." He turned away from her, adding, "I expect you to be smarter."
Anzu watched him make his way through the sand and only after he had gone several feet ahead of her did she kneel down and openly weep into her arms. With the sound of the wind and being so far away, her sobs could not be heard and she could release some of the anguish that had been building in her heart all day.
Without knowing how or why, she had fallen in love with him and she hated him for it.
End Part V