When I got to roof, I leaned over the railing and looked at the skyline. Such a beautiful city, I thought to myself. It's been a while since I've been here.

I sighed to myself as I thought of all the major cities I've been to in the past three years (We'll get there eventually, promise!). It was nice to be in a city with a little less excitement; a person can only take so much during a short period of time.

Putting my past to the side, I started to analyze my encounter with Yuugi-kun and the others. I knew that Yuugi had the millennium puzzle, one of seven objects. I knew that his friends all seemed okay with fact, whether they knew of the secrets of it or not. And I knew that they were friendly towards me. A normal scenario.

The only thing I was questioning was this Bakura fellow. Ah, Bakura, what a beautiful name. It's so unique. And he looks so . . . Why am I thinking this?! I just met the guy, yet this feeling. . . the butterflies in my stomach, the heat radiating off my face, the weak knees at the mere thought of his name. . .

"Hello, Nakahara-san."

I turned around at the mention of my name. Behind me stood Bakura, except, he looked different. His hair seemed more rigid, his eyes looked darker and there was no sign of an innocent aura I was picking up from him earlier. There seemed to be a dangerous and sadistic vibe distributing from him. He wore a smirk like he knew he could get anything he wanted from me by the snap of his fingers. His school jacket was unzipped and the white collar shirt had the few buttons undone; before, everything was zipped and buttoned, nothing out of place. This version of Bakura that stood in front of me disturbed me a bit.

I narrowed my eyes in a dangerous way as he started to approach me. With each closing step, more and more curiosity bubbled up inside of me. After three more blinks, he stood in front of me. His cold, mysterious eyes stared into my eyes that are as dark as the ocean at midnight. Butterflies started to build in my stomach as he placed his cold hand on my heating cheeks. He moved his pinky finger to trace the outline of my left eye. After doing this for several moments, he removed his hand and used his thumb to outline my thin, pink lips.

"After all these years, you're still so beautiful," he muttered under his breath. "How your eyes pretend to be intimidating, yet break at the slightest of my touches; how rose paints your cheeks as I show you the love you never received; and how your lips seem to tell your life story without uttering a word." He slowly leans in and places a rough, yet somehow slightly gentle kiss upon my virgin lips. I stand there, not moving a muscle, as he kisses me.

And just like that, it's over. He pulls away, turns around, and exits the roof, not even so much as glancing back.

I stand there flabbergasted at what just happened. The school bell brings me back to reality as I realize I have mere seconds to get back to class.

I sprint to the door, run down the steps two at a time, and make it back into the classroom four seconds before the teacher walks in. I quickly take my seat next to Honda-kun and reach for my notebook to write down algebra questions.

Out of the corner of my eye, I take a glance at Bakura. He seems back to his old self- innocent, neat and emotionless as he copies down the next question. It seems as if he's an eternally different person, and I plan to figure out why and how that happens.

But the thing that bothers me the most is that he seems to act like the whole thing never even happened. . .