Author's Note: Has it really been so long? I didn't mean to take such a long hiatus… I started this story in my freshmen year of high school, and now I'm a sophomore in COLLEGE. You've got to be kidding. (And guess what I'm studying. … Yeah, you got it—English Literature. I'm so predictable.)

I felt like I owed it to myself and all the great people out there to actually finish this absolute behemoth of a FanFiction. So, here you are my lovelies—if you're still with me, of course. (Honestly, I wouldn't blame you if you weren't.)

It might be hard to remember all that's happened (trust me—no one knows this better than I do), so I tried to put subtle hints here and there of past plot points. Next chapter, I will as well.

By my calculations, I can finish this piece completely in about five chapters. So, here we go…

Chapter 36

"I got it! I got it this time! Oooooooh, just wait until you hear it, Marik!"

Bakura burst through door of the private study in the middle of the Thief King's tomb, startling Marik half to death.

Gripping the front of his tunic just above his heart, Marik muttered hoarsely, "Ra damn it, Bakura. You're supposed to be dead, remember? What will you do if someone hears?"

"No time to think about trivial matters like that!" In one swift motion, Bakura pushed all of Marik's current work of the table in front of him, replacing it with an object.

"Trivial, he says... And wait—! I was working on something!" Marik pushed himself forcibly up from his desk and glared directly into Bakura's eyes. "I hate pulling this card, but I am the Thief King currently, so I would appreciate it if you did not—"

Bakura covered the blonde's mouth with his hand, only muffled sounds of protest proving Marik's presence had not disappeared entirely. "Shut up. This is actually important." After adjusting the item slightly, the rightful Thief King queried, "Tell me, Marik; what do you see?"

Struggling out of Bakura's grasp, Marik stared directly at him and uttered, "A jackass."

Instead of looking offended, Bakura's expression was more akin to pride. "I clearly meant what is on the table, you bastard."

"Oh? Why did you not say so?" Marik toyed, but he quickly moved his sights to the object in question. "Well," he stated simply, "I see a Millennium Item."

"Indeed." Bakura's smirk deepened. "But be more specific."

"The Millennium Eye. Kisara sneaked this out of Alexandria from its owner and replaced it with a replica just before they passed away, right?"

Bakura's expression suddenly took an unexpected turn for the grave. "Fortunately and unfortunately." He formed a fist, his nails digging deep enough into his skin to leave impressions. "I got the Eye just like I wanted, but I was not able to extract my revenge on that bastard before he died of so-called 'natural causes.' Damn it all—if I had the chance, I would dry up the River Styx and drag him back to the world of the living just to torture him slowly for the rest of his or my life—whichever came first."

Marik was suddenly violently reminded of how dangerous Bakura could be, and he tried his best to conceal a shiver that ran through him. "And?" he baited hoarsely. "Why are you showing and telling this to me?"

An arm immediately wrapped itself around Marik's neck-slightly too tight for comfort. "I will tell you why, Marik. I will tell you why." His spirits seemed renewed, and Marik took a silent sigh of relief. "We have been faced with a dilemma."

"Which one?" The young man wrinkled his nose. "You have the pick of the litter. We are running rampant with problems."

"Therein lies the very beauty of my plan, Marik." Bakura released the blonde and began counting on his fingers. "There is the issue of your spirit problem—which has now become my spirit problem. Then, there is the business of Yami Motou and his treason. And even then, we have an unstable thieving organization about ready to topple under unstable leadership."

"I resent that one—"

"And finally, my ever-present desire to take down the entirety of the Egyptian monarchy." Bakura closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Quite the to-do list we have conjured up, is it not?"

"You mean that you have conjured up."

Bakura waved his finger in front of Marik's eyes. "Ah, ah, ah. Where did all that 'I-am-the-current-Thief-King' pride run off to, eh?"

Marik felt his teeth grinding together. He managed to force out, "I thought we were going to be careful about this. Take it one step at a time."

"But that is so boring. Not to mention wasteful of precious time." Seeing that this argument was not winning his trusted advisor over, Bakura reasoned calmly, "I am serious though, Marik. That spy Ryou-or-whatever has probably already alerted the Pharaoh of my miraculous recovery. I doubt that man would purposefully leak that information to the public, but soon enough, someone will slip and word will spread. Before that happens, I need to publicly announce my return to the organization and rally them under a cause worthy enough of my glorious return."

Intrigued, Marik inquired, "And what cause would that be?"

The notorious Thief King grinned. "Why, of course it would be ransacking the palace and taking all of the Millennium Items for myself."

Bakura might as well of stated that he wanted to steal the moon.

Marik's eyes widened considerably. "Steal the Millennium Items? A-all of th-them?" He could not stop his voice from quivering as certain family members with Millennium Items were immediately summoned into his thoughts.

"And I thought I would take the Pharaoh's head while I was at it. Just to spice things up," Bakura declared haughtily as he gazed down at the one Item already in his possession.

"You can't-" Marik bit his tongue before the sentence was finished. "I mean, you cannot be serious, Bakura. Stealing from the palace outright? What happened to stealth and cunning?"

"I am so very glad you brought that up." Bakura placed a scroll on the table just below where he had set the artifact and unraveled it. "See, there is going to be a big party at the palace at the very beginning of the new year. A wedding, it seems. And—how rude of the Pharaoh—it appears he has not invited me." Bakura's smile was turning sadistic. "I thought I would show up anyway and grace him with my noble presence. That ought to be enough of a distraction while my men make off with the Items, yes?"

Marik dissected what Bakura said thoroughly in his mind. After a prolonged silence, he mumbled down towards the table. "But why them in the first place? What purpose will the Items serve to you?"

Bakura searched Marik's face, wondering briefly why his partner-in-crime was not more excited. Ultimately, he wrote it off as nervousness. "Well, they were mine to begin with anyway," he revealed. "Or, more specifically, they were my village's. I am sure I do not have to go in detail there."

Marik nodded solemnly.

"And, as I promised, this one action would solve all our problems." He rattled off excitedly, "The Items' power can be used to be rid of our spirit problem, draw Yami Motou's attention, organize our men, and send Egyptian society into a panic. So? What do you think?"

Marik sat back down and commenced a staring contest with the Millennium Eye. Drumming his tan fingers of the table, he murmured, "You make it all sound so easy..."

Bakura leaned down and grasped the blonde's face between his hands. "Oh, but it is. Remarkably so. We simply announce that my devilish self is still alive and well and plan for the remainder of time for this day of reckoning. I believe we have more than three months time to gather everything together."

Marik's face grew hot, being manhandled in this way. His gaze averted, and he thought it over yet again. "But the Pharaoh..." he found himself wondering aloud. "It was Aknadin that destroyed your village, was it not? Has the Pharaoh done you any wrong?"

Bakura practically threw Marik out of his hands at the notion. "His very existence is a wrong," he hissed. "His very brother made me experience a living hell, and then he sends all manner of spies and assassins after me. He finds me a blight in the history books of his glorious Egypt that he just cannot seem to scrub away. His kingdom deserves to fall—and spectacularly so!"

Marik bit his lip. The young man had nothing but fond memories of the Pharaoh when he and Ryou and Prince Atem were friends as children. Aknamkanon seemed like a fair king and obliging father then. Had anything changed in the recent years? If so, Marik was not aware of it. And, after all, Thief King Bakura's organization did threaten his kingdom in ways... Why should he not send people to stop it?

"Is it possible to just... kidnap the Pharaoh?"

Marik instantly regretted his suggestion as he spied a smirk slither its way across Bakura's lips.

"Yes..."

"No!"

"Yeeesss..."

"Never mind! Forget what I said!"

Bakura cupped a hand over Marik's mouth for the second time that day. "Shh, shut up—you're a genius." Suddenly, an another idea dawned on him to accompany Marik's first. "Wait, better yet... The bride-to-be. Yes, of course! The Pharaoh and the Crown Prince will spare no expenses if our pre-princess is abducted." Bakura could only see riches before him, and his voice grew with intensity. "I could ask for a thousand gold pieces... No, even more! A hundred thousand! Millions? Yes, millions I dare say!"

"You have officially lost it, Bakura." Marik rapped on the side of Bakura's head a few times. "I think you have been in hiding far too long. The isolation is making you funny in the head."

Bakura swatted his hand away. "What are you talking about? It was your idea, for Ra's sake!"

The Thief King's reluctant advisor massaged his temples. "Yes, and I am regretting it more and more as the time passes..."

"On the contrary, this is only getting better!" Bakura plucked the Millennium Eye off the table and began leisurely tossing it up and down as he thought through the intimate details of Marik's accidental brilliance. "And, if I am not mistaken, the Crown Prince's betrothed in none other than Yami's Motou's younger sister... Oooooh, I could just kiss you right now, Marik! This idea of yours is giving me all the golden opportunities in the world!"

Marik heard nothing else after "kiss you." He sputtered, beyond scandalized, "I-I-I beg yo-your pardon?"

Unfortunately, that was the only part Bakura himself had not recognized that he had said. He did not register Marik's objection to it either, as he was already walking towards the door and mumbling to himself all the wondrous plans he had in store.

"Just wait for that judgment day, Marik… Witness me rock the very foundation of Egypt in the span of a single meticulously planned day!" Bakura declared, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Marik could still hear Bakura's muffled laughter, even with the door now between them. But, with such a bold proclamation made, Marik only had one thought to occupy the entirety of his mind.

"Kiss me? Did he really just say he could kiss me?"

-transition-

Yugi's village finally came into view, and Ryou released a sigh of relief. But guilt quickly pricked him yet again, reminding him of his less-than-exemplary decision to not alert the Pharaoh of Thief King Bakura's survival. The more he thought about it, the more the spy felt he had made a terrible error. He had almost turned around a dozen times to right his wrong, but now that he had completed the trip, Ryou gave up on the idea entirely.

Directing his horse through the agora, he could not hold back another sigh. But his troubles were of no concern to anyone else, so the young man tried to raise his spirits—at least cosmetically—as not to arise suspicion when he returned to the band of misfits residing currently in the Motou residence.

Ryou's horse, trained specifically for expeditions of spy-like nature, made an uncomfortable, distressed noise, which got its owner's attention instantly. Within the same second, the rider was dismounted, stashing himself and his horse behind the corner of an alley.

"Hey, lady!"

A man had just stumbled out of a dwelling, obviously a little tipsy. A few step ahead of him was a foreign-looking women, decorated extravagantly. She looked back at him, tilted her head innocently, and inquired softly, "Yes, my lord?"

The man stumbled, regained most of his balance, and pointed clumsily to his wrist. "I had a chain of several gemstones on my arm earlier. Then, you walk by my table, and it's suddenly vanished. I may be drunk, but not that drunk. I can put two and two together. You stole it, didn't you?" he accused.

The woman put on a face of virtuous pride, denying outright, "How dare you? I would never! Obviously, you misplaced your possession in your stupor. I am blameless!"

"Sure... I believe you, I believe you..."

The man haphazardly reached into his garments, but his arm was frozen in place by a stranger's hand.

"I believe those are enough false accusations. Let's not resort to violence in the wake of insufficient evidence," Ryou chided, his grip as strong as steel. "Apologize to the lady and be on your way."

"I will be on my way," the drunkard stated exasperatedly, "but she will get no apology from me."

Ryou figured that was good enough for the time being and released him. Liberated, he kept his word and went on his way, muttering to himself—but whether it was in bitterness or in drunkenness was unclear.

The other party bowed slightly to Ryou, her earrings and blonde hair chiming forward mesmerizingly with the rhythm of her body. "Thank you, my lord. If you had not come, I would have certainly been in a dire situation indeed."

Ryou did not buy that for a second. If he had not intervened, that drunken fool would have had a dagger struck straight into one of his lungs. No, this women was a professional. And Ryou had a sneaking suspicion where she acquired her skills from.

"You can drop the act," Ryou whispered, pulling her aside next to his horse. "You work for the Thief King, yes? I do as well."

"Oh, thank RA." The woman completely dropped the facade, pulling the man's gem-adorned chain out of the collar area of her dress and glaring at it, unimpressed. "That was way to much work for a silly thing like this. Most of the gemstones are not even real anyway." She concealed it again on her person and took a quick inspection of the young man before her. "You're new, huh? I do not recognize you."

"Yes, quite new." Years of espionage had trained Ryou that the best way to assure another of your genuineness was to let the other party come up with the lies. Going along with their first impressions guaranteed a more believable image and gave the other person the satisfaction of looking intelligent for the moment. "Therefore, I am terribly sorry to say that I do not recall your name."

"Mai. You should know me as the third—" Her face lowered. "—no, I suppose second in command under Master Marik."

So, the rest of the organization does not know... thought Ryou, intrigued. Even the so-called second in command Mai had not been divulged details of Bakura's survival. That meant only Marik and that albino sorceress from the earlier occasion were informed. Well, and of course, Ryou himself...

"Pardon me for asking," Ryou pried, "but might I ask why such a high-ranking member such as yourself is out lifting trinkets off people? Surely it is a tedious job for someone of your caliber." Compliments were also a good tactic to fish for information with; the spy just hoped he had not gone to a disingenuous-sounding level.

Mai stared Ryou down, and for a second, he thought he had been caught. However, she unknowingly supplied Ryou with an excuse by concluding, "Oh, I get it. You must have not been at the hideout this morning." Before he had the chance to agree or even reply, Mai continued, "Master Marik announced to everyone today that we should start to go after Millennium Items."

Ryou leaned on his horse, unable to fully mask his shock. "Oh, is that so?" He regained his outward composure, but inside, his mind was racing. "And why is that?"

Mai seemed to grow a little agitated at this particular question. "Because they are Millennium Items...? I don't know... Should there be another reason?"

Ryou knew he was pushing his luck, but he had to delve a little deeper before he lost the opportunity. "I mean to say, why now, of all times?"

Mai's face grew hot. "That is for Master Marik to decide, not me. Just take your orders and follow them, all right?" She readjusted her what Ryou could now tell were false earrings and other ornaments and stepped back onto the main street of the agora. "Look, most of the Items are beyond the walls of the royal palace, but I heard at least one Item Bearer was lurking around her lately. I am off to find them. I suggest you do something similar and make yourself useful." She gestured good-bye and then merged in with the rest of the marketplace, swiftly and efficiently disappearing from view.

The Millennium Items... Why now? And why was Bakura keeping himself hidden from the rest of his men? Marik was in charge now? Or was that strictly superficial while Bakura worked behind the scenes? How did Mai receive word of either Priest Seto or Prince Atem being here? How specific was this information she was receiving?

Ryou mounted his horse and joined the crowd as well, winding his way through the veins of the village back to the Motou manor.

There was some news to discuss, to say the least.

Author's Note: I promise it wouldn't be another two years between chapters. (I know I've said that before, but I'm in a really good place now and think I can make that claim honestly.)

Thanks for sticking with me.