Author's Note: Totally speaking from the heart here, I've been having a really difficult time writing this as of late, because honestly, I hadn't planned for this story to go on so long. I was going to end it after Yami disappeared, but then I got more ideas, and… You can see where this went.

Point is, I'm having to create what happens next quickly and without much planning, and because of that, several drafts are being gone through of what could happen next that'll never see the light of day.

That being said, I think I'm finally starting to get where I'll be taking this. So, without further ado, I'll leave you to reading the new chapter. I wouldn't say this is my very best work, but I don't think it's horrible per se… Eh, you be the judge of that. I hope it goes over all right…

Enjoy.

Chapter 33

Bakura hadn't had a dream since he was a child. Not even a nightmare. His subconscious had always been eerily quiet and numbing since Kul Elna, like it was angry with him and was giving him the silent treatment.

But, the night after Bakura was revived, that all changed.

Every night was a nightmare—except it was worse than a nightmare, because it was simply the events of Kul Elna played back over and over again in slow motion. In each nightmare, Bakura was back looking through the eyes of a youth, only about eight years old. He was forced to watch all of his family perishing again, their twisted faces of agony clear enough to pick them out of a crowd.

After three days of this mental torture, Bakura decided it would be best to simply not sleep. Unfortunately, this fact did not get unnoticed by a certain blonde…

"Bakura, have you been getting proper sleep?"

"What?" Bakura's head had been dipping down slowly as Marik had been briefing him on the details of their thieving affiliation in the area. "Erm… Of course. Why do you ask?" He hated to admit it, but his tone sounded just a bit defensive.

Marik narrowed his eyes, and Bakura immediately knew he had sensed it. "Are… are you sure? I mean, you just look exhausted." And it was true: The Thief King had dark circles beneath his eyes and an all-around tired look about him.

"I… I don't know what you're mumbling about, but we don't have time for it," Bakura dismissed, waving his hand. "Now, you were saying?"

Marik glowered at the Thief King, but the other either didn't notice or didn't care. "Well… All right. But Kisara said you need to sleep well if you want to make a full recovery."

Bakura scoffed, his arms crossed. "I don't take orders from my subordinates."

"Well, you should," Marik concluded, opening up another scroll. "They have good advice."

-transition-

Running and sprinting and tripping… Tripping over fallen family and friends… People Bakura had grown up with… Slain where they stood…

A hiding place in the shadows… Darkness cradling him like a mother's loving arms… Perfectly peaceful in a land where light was nonexistent… The sounds of the dying creating a dreamlike and yet all-too-aware atmosphere… Quiet screaming… Forgotten sorrow… Painful peace… In the fact that everything was gone.

In the fact that it actually wasn't gone. In the fact that it was simply lost.

Lost…

All was lost.

But especially…

Him.

He was lost.

And as soon as this dawned on the last survivor, Bakura laid his head down on the rough sand and closed his eyes, colorless tears raining down on the barren landscape.

As much darkness as there was outside of his mind, there was more inside, waiting tenaciously to drag Bakura into the same state as his friends and family. To be lost.

Lost…

And all alone.

-transition-

Bakura stared hollowly at Marik's sleeping form, only vaguely aware of what he was doing.

It was karma, he supposed; Bakura had often made fun of Marik for having nightmares and being frightened by them. He was just a kid, Bakura thought, and you had to be a kid in order to think nightmares were the least bit scary.

It was safe to say Bakura didn't quite think that anymore.

Warily, the white-haired Thief King slipped beside the blonde and curled himself up into a semi-comfortable sleeping position.

He didn't care how undignified it made he seem; like hell he was going to wake up alone if he had that nightmare again. Having it was one thing… But being by his lonesome when he shook himself out of the dreadful dream's clutches? It was a completely different matter all together.

Bakura laced his uninjured arm around Marik without much thought about it and sighed into the other's back. He didn't have much energy to waste on what Marik might think when he woke up the next morning, but he did momentarily wonder if the other might have a heart attack when he noticed he was not alone… Ha! Bakura hoped he would be awake to see that, because Marik's expression would probably be hilarious.

With that last amusing thought, Bakura finally fell back asleep. It didn't last long, but the next time he woke up, he merely clenched onto Marik and pursued sleep again, a second, more relaxed heartbeat present to guide the way back into unconsciousness.

-transition-

"Ah, you're back," Seto observed as Yugi, Atem, and Ryou walked across the field to the Motou Manor. The three looked worse for wear to say the least, but Seto tried to sound optimistic, for Yugi if no one else. "Did you find that friend of yours, Lady Yugi?"

She shook her head solemnly. "I… I tried my best to listen close for his voice… But there were so many voices outside today—because of the festival." Yugi's breath hitched hesitantly, something controversial hanging on the edge of her tongue. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we'll be able to leave quickly. Forgive me, Priest Seto."

Seto waved his hand, his expression dismissal. "That is nothing to get worked up about, Lady Yugi. I assumed we would be staying the night anyway. Come on in, before it gets dark."

Yugi nodded, gazing up at the night sky. It was a deep purple already, stars winking down at the four travelers. She released Atem's hand, which she had forgotten she had been clenching, and walked into her former home, still somber. Atem followed on her heels, silent but reassuring, as they disappeared inside.

Seto would have joined them, but Ryou stopped him with a hand on the priest's shoulder, keeping them outside on the front steps.

"You aren't bitter about staying an extra day?" the spy questioned curiously, the tight smile he wore making Seto's nerves weary.

Seto glared down at the ghostly white hand presently forbidding him to move. He cleared his throat for fear that his tone would sound too suspicious and inquired, "No, why would I be?"

"You seemed awfully adamant about leaving as rapidly as possible this morning." Ryou's head tilted slightly, the brilliant rising moon behind him being blended into his ashen hair to a degree of near flawlessness. "Did something happen, Priest Seto? Something you are not telling us about?"

Seto squinted at Ryou, the moonlight behind him being amplified to a degree that was almost blinding. With the glare, he could only see Ryou's plastered smile, a thin white line that appeared to be less and less comforting by the minute. "I…" Should I tell him that…? No, not even Ryou can know. I don't think he would tell Lady Yugi, but I can't take the chance. "No, nothing happened."

"Is that so?" At last, Ryou moved his head back to where it was, the blinding light vanishing and not leaving a trace of its existence. "I see. I suppose I'll have to conduct my own research." The white-haired man released Seto's shoulder, returning his arm to his side. He turned around, facing the open field, and waved back at the priest. "Goodnight then, Priest Seto. If I don't return before morning, tell Lady Yugi and Prince Atem I won't be long."

With that, he ambled back in the direction of the village, whistling a lethargic song that dipped and plunged into deep notes, like a bird with only one wing trying to take flight.

Once Ryou was out of sight, Seto let out an involuntarily shiver he was holding back. Nearly frightened me to death, he thought, starting to feel a little nauseous. I am glad he is loyal to the Pharaoh and Prince Atem. Being on the wrong side of Ryou is a bad idea… Though it is sometimes easy to forget. Seto gazed wearily in the direction in which Ryou left and shook his head. The spy had been a child after all—no, he still was a child. Ryou was always young, fragile, and foreign-looking.

And that is what made him all the more dangerous to his enemies.

-transition-

Bakura woke up long before Marik, to his dismay. But trying to chase after more sleep had become unappealing, and sneaking outside while neither Kisara nor Marik could stop him sounded much better.

So he did just that.

At first, Bakura wandered the desert landscape, no destination in mind. Then his wounds started to ache. Knowing full well he could not afford to be spotted by someone who would report his sighting to the Pharaoh, he took a detour to a deserted village on the outskirts of the Nile. Being so close to the main water source should have meant that the area was teeming with life—the infamous Thief King decided that wouldn't be the case in this particular village. And he was proud of his handiwork.

When he reached it, Bakura headed into the empty former town square. A bell was ringing faintly in the distance and the echo of rushing water was ever-present, but besides that, there wasn't a single sound of life, human or otherwise. And that's the way Bakura liked it.

He strolled up to the well in the center of the square, the only thing left standing in perfect condition, and dunked his entire head into the water. It was the only thing it was good for unfortunately, since Bakura wasn't about to drink water that had been sitting stagnant for years.

Pulling his head back out into the air, Bakura sat down and leaned his back against the well. Wringing out his hair, the Thief King decided a short break would be safe to take before he made his way back to the hideout. After all, he wouldn't want to take too long to return; Marik and Kisara would lecture him for sure if he wasn't back before they awoke. On top of that, it was already hot even though the sun was only just rising, and the last thing Bakura wanted was to get stranded out in the middle of nowhere in intense heat when he was already weakened.

The Thief King leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Yes, a little rest and he would—

"And here I thought you really were dead. I should have known better."

Bakura opened his eyes and glanced around, realizing there was an oddly familiar young man standing on the front steps village temple's ruins.

As the person sauntered closer, Bakura realized it was no "young man" at all. It was just a pathetic kid. Humph, this should be interesting.

"And why is that, hmm? That you should have known better? Just who the hell are you anyway?" Bakura queried, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"My name is Ryou," the enemy to the Thief King answered. "I'm one of the Pharaoh's elite."

"Elite you say? So are you an item bearer? Or a dignitary? Or someone else boring?" When Ryou's expression remained blank, Bakura let the smirk show, an eyebrow rising along with it. "Or maybe could I be on the wrong path all together—maybe you're a master assassin or spy."

Ryou didn't confirm nor deny this, but he did nod just slightly, his face determined.

"I thought so," Bakura muttered, leaning forward and folding his hands together. "So now that you know I'm alive, are you going to kill me? Or rather, are you going to run off and tattle about me to the Pharaoh?"

"Neither at the moment," Ryou relied simply.

"Oh?" Bakura chuckled amusedly. "I suppose you have something else in mind. Well, that's all fine and good, but what is stopping me from killing you then, hmm? You are the only outsider to know I'm alive at this point, so why shouldn't I kill you? Give me a good reason; think long and hard. After all, it could be the last thing you ever say."

Ryou paused for a moment, glowering down at the Thief King as he collected his thoughts. Convinced he had a worthy answer, he finally countered, "You have let me live before."

Intrigued, Bakura responded, "I have? Remind me."

Ryou nodded more assuredly. "But first—" The blade of Ryou's sword found its way up onto Bakura's shoulder, laying treacherously close to the man's neck. "—I want to make sure you stay here and listen."

Bakura hardly paid heed to the threat, closing his eyes thoughtfully and resting his head on the smooth stones that constructed the well as if Ryou had announced it was story time. "Very well. I will listen all the way through."

Ryou took a deep breath and began, "Right where you're sitting and right where I'm standing used to be a village, a wondrous and peaceful village."

"I doubt that—"

"It was my village, if you have not already guessed. I was the only survivor."

"Now doesn't that sound familiar—?"

"You did it, Thief King Bakura. You are responsible for all of it being taken away for me, how I was left with nothing."

"Such a sad story; do tell a happier one after this—"

"Why, Bakura?" Ryou was shouting now. "Why did you only leave me? I can still remember you looking down on me when I was very young; I can still remember that murderous look in your eyes leaving you when you saw me. Why did you leave me as the only one?"

Bakura was grinning now, not a drop of remorse in it. "Tell me, Lord Ryou," he started, "can you remember your parents?"

Ryou's sword quivered. "Yes… I can remember them both quite clearly."

Bakura stroked the steel of Ryou's sword as if it was a fond pet. "I see. And which one of them was from Kul Elna?"

The spy lowered his head. "My mother. She left Kul Elna to join my father in this village and died a few years later. How did you—?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Bakura scoffed. "We both have Kul Elna blood running through us. Our white hair is a dead giveaway, almost literally."

"So you spared me because—?"

"Yes, because of your Kul Elna descent." The Thief King laughed, the rough sound clawing at the unease around them. "It's ironic, is it not? We could have been neighbors—hell, we could have been cousins if not for circumstance. In fact, we still might be…"

"I am not part of your family, extended or otherwise," Ryou said fiercely, pushing the dull side of his sword into Bakura's neck. "Because of what you did, I was adopted into the palace, befriended the Prince, and went on to become the Pharaoh's best spy."

"So you don't regret me taking away your village?"

Silence ensued.

"Then I think you owe me a thank you. And an apology, too, for bruising my neck."

"You dare ask for a thank you?"

"And an apology, yes."

"You must be insane."

"You wouldn't be the first to make that assumption."

Before Ryou could even think of a response to this, intuition told him to move out of the way. As he did, a lightning bolt-like streak of blue magic zipped past him, obviously intended to hit where he had been standing.

"Ah, perfect timing," Bakura murmured, brushing Ryou's sword off of his shoulder and standing up. "Honestly though, Kisara, you should have better aiming. You heard him; we're dealing with the Pharaoh's elite spy, not just some kid off the streets that's decided to pick a fight."

"I will try better next time," Kisara told Bakura apologetically, sending another stream at Ryou. He dodged just in time, but it was clear that the magic was now intended to kill and not just to get him to move out of the way.

Marik moved out from behind Kisara, stomping over to the Thief King. He shouted into Bakura's ear, "You bastard—! After all the effort we've put into keeping the public from not knowing you are alive, you just decide to waltz out into the broad daylight and run into one of the Pharaoh's spies of all people? Do you have a death wish or something? What were you thinking?"

"Hell, Marik, you're going to make me deaf if you keep doing that," Bakura grumbled, covering his ears.

"I hope I do make you deaf, Bakura! Then maybe you'll think twice about being such an idiot!"

"Marik…?"

Said blonde turned and faced his addresser. "Wait, Ryou, is that you?"

"You two know each other?" Bakura asked, giving both Ryou and Marik skeptical looks.

Marik couldn't think of a way to politely say that he meant to meet up with Ryou in Alexandria rather than join the Thief King's faction; therefore, he stayed quiet instead. Which was fine, because Ryou answered for him:

"We were friends… when we all lived in the palace." Ryou retrieved his sword from the ground and looked at his own mistrustful eyes in the reflection of the blade. "This is where you have been all this time, Marik? I had heard the rumors and read the reported sightings, but… I thought I knew you would never take part in such a thing."

"Ryou, I… I'm sorry." The apology didn't sound sincere, and Marik knew that. But he couldn't think of any other way to convince his former friend he was doing this for reasons besides being treasonous to Egypt. Swallowing a knot of emotions that had entangled themselves in his throat, Marik asked slowly, "How are…? How are Isis and Shada?"

Ryou's eyes lit up upon recognizing Marik still cared for his siblings. "Good. They miss you, Marik."

"I know…" Marik sighed, not raising his gaze from the ground. "When you, um… When you see them next… can you tell them I am all right?" The blonde added earnestly, "Don't tell them where I am or what I'm doing… But please…"

"I will, Marik," Ryou promised, smiling faintly at him.

"Aww, such a sad tale. Two best of friends, torn apart after picking opposite sides. I think I'll start to sob if I think about it any longer," Bakura mocked. "Let's go, Kisara, preferably before this tragic story makes me cry."

"Of course," Kisara agreed. She gently tugged Marik and Bakura into closer range and let her blue-colored magic engulf them. Marik cast a repentant look at Ryou before the three disappeared completely.

"I'll tell them," Ryou whispered into the silence that followed their disappearance. "And I forgive you."

-transition-

"Where do you think Ryou went, Atem?" Yugi inquired, her eyes searching the horizon for the young man in question, a hand resting on her forehead to block the midmorning sun.

Atem shrugged. "Seto said he had something to do. I am sure he will be back in no time."

The youngest Motou sighed.

Shortly after, Yugi spotted a white dot in the distance coming towards them and shouted, "Oh, here he comes! See him, Atem?"

"I do, Yugi," Atem assured, chuckling lightly.

"Ryyyou! Lord Ryyyou!" Yugi hollered over the field, waving her hands.

Ryou glanced up at the sound of his name. As soon as he caught sight of Yugi's blindingly cheerful expression, his own solemn one softened. When he reached the portico of the Motou Manor, Ryou greeted, "Good morning, Lady Yugi, Prince Atem."

"Good morning," both chimed.

"You both seem in good spirits this particular morning."

"We are," Atem concurred. "We're convinced we will find Yugi's friend in town today."

"I sure hope we do." Yugi proclaimed, "After all, I did make him a promise. And I intend to keep that promise." She took Ryou's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "A friendship can only be maintained through trust, and keeping a promise is part of trusting one another which is in turn a part of friendship. See, it's all a cycle! Isn't that right, Lord Ryou?"

Caught entirely and utterly off guard, Ryou blinked into Yugi's smiling face, trying to hold back tears he thought he would never shed even if he lived a million years. "That is… That is completely correct, Lady Yugi. T-thank you."

"Huh? Lord Ryou, are you all right? You do not look very well… Are you sick?" Yugi shook Ryou's hand up and down as if he was a toy that was malfunctioning that just needed a little tap to start working again.

"No… I am not sick, Lady Yugi." Ryou cleared his throat, patting the back of Yugi's hand and then placing it back at her side. "But I need to inform you both that I will be heading back to the palace now."

"What?" Atem questioned swiftly, "But why are you—?"

"Something came up," Ryou excused, smiling apologetically. "I will have to leave you in Priest Seto's capable hands until I finish an errand. You understand, right?"

Yugi and Atem nodded.

"We have our own business to attend to anyway, so it will be good to get all of our errands out of the way at the same time," Atem inferred logically. "That way, we will have more time to do nothing when we get back."

"Doing nothing does sound relaxing," Yugi assented, nodding at Atem.

Ryou decided, "In that case, it is settled. I will be back later if I finish my task before you two do."

"There is no way that will happen; Yugi and I are finding her friend today."

"That's right."

"Good luck then," Ryou stated as a final farewell, traveling back in the way he came.

"Good luck to you as well!" the couple called after him.

As he walked, something in his subconscious reminded Ryou that kind words could not solve everything… But they did not harm anything either, and he could use all the help he could get.

Author's Note: Holy hell, the beginning of this chapter and the end are like night and day when comparing their quality. Or maybe only I notice… Oh well.

This latter half of the chapter only further proves what a touchy-feely teddy bear I am. I'M SORRY; I LOVE THE FLUFF.

Wow, I almost didn't give Atem any lines this chapter. Then I remembered he exists and was like, "Oops…?" and went back and gave him lines. Sorry, Atem…

I hope you guys haven't given up on me yet, because I have wonderful (and devious) plans for this story's future!

Please review.