Going On

Disclaimer - Don't own them.

Author's Notes - After a full night's sleep, and a day of typing, I'm far enough along that I feel comfortable putting up another chapter early! so here you all go . . . and I'll be in my bomb shelter!


Chapter 15 – Searching

A weary search and a bag full of scrolls and ancient texts later, Malik returned to the mansion. He entered quietly, hearing the sounds of murmured conversation from the den, and bypassed it, heading for the peace and solitude of Kaiba’s library. Drifting into the room, he settled at the huge desk, dumping his burden across the wooden surface with a huge sigh. So many damn texts . . . and he really needed to talk to his hikari about getting some sort of system together to keep the fucking things in order.

Of course, that was if the stubborn little brat ever spoke to him again. He’d been gone for over two hours, and had heard not a single murmur out of the link they shared, not even a slight bit of concern or curiosity for him. He was surprised to find that hurt, and cursed his ill-luck for having fallen in love with his weaker self. He’d never be able to earn the trust of his hikari, not after the events of earlier.

Turning his mind from those most annoying thoughts, he set about reading the scrolls he had brought, scanning through them for any mention of two souls in one body that DIDN’T belong to the prophecy of the Pharaoh’s return. No one would disturb him . . . none of them even knew he was back, and it wasn’t as if they would have bothered with him if they had known. They were all still afraid of him. Not exactly a bad thing, if he considered it in the right light . . . after all, they were still afraid of Bakura too. And it seemed that thief got more shit done with that then by being their nice, agreeable friend.

Settling in for a long night of reading, he didn’t even notice the security camera in one corner of the room, the red light blinking steadily as it recorded his every move.


*--------*-------*-------*-------*


Where am I?

The void.

Who am I?

The Pharaoh.

Why am I here?

Your darkness.

With that, memory returned, and with it, the heartache and despair. Curling in on himself, floating in a sea of nothingness, crimson eyes closed wearily, fighting for sanity and control of himself. The seals remained in place . . . Kage had yet to succeed in his plans, as Yami had hoped would occur in his last moments of reality.

He could dimly sense his aibou, and he reached for that contact like a lifeline, clutching it tightly and holding it to his heart and soul desperately. Yugi was safe . . . as were his friends. Kage couldn’t use him to harm them any longer. It was the only thing that made this horrible nightmare bearable.

“Yugi,” he whispered, his voice full of pain and longing. He so wanted to see his aibou again . . . to hold him, touch him, tell him how much he loved him and treasured him. But that was not to be. It had been a hopeless dream from the very beginning. He was not meant to touch such purity and goodness as his hikari.

In the cold void of nothingness into which he’d been cast, Yami wept for lost chances and shattered dreams.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Marik paced his room restlessly, his unease growing with each step. Malik, according to Seto, had left to go gods only knew where, and that bothered him. The heartache in his chest bothered him as well . . . when, over the course of the past few days, had he come to love his darkness? How could he love someone he couldn’t trust?

He’d been harsh, and he was man enough to admit it. He’d been angry at his dark for pointing out the hopelessness of the situation, mainly because he knew Malik was telling the truth. He was clutching at grains of sand, trying to form them into a hope that could be well nigh onto impossible, and too many lives hung in the balance for him to do that.

But at the same time, it bothered him greatly that his dark had been so quick to point out the Pharaoh’s death as the only solution. Didn’t Malik had a shred of compassion in that black heart? Yes, he’d been born of Marik’s hatred, jealousy, and pain, but surely there were other emotions his dark was capable of feeling, if he had been telling the truth about loving his light.

Where the hell was he? More pacing, more worrying, more wondering why he even cared. Forcing it from his mind, he strode out into the hallway to go check on Yugi and Yami. There was no change . . . the Pharaoh still lay comatose, eyes flickering between crimson and blood, staring up at the ceiling, and Yugi still lay with his head on his love’s chest, one arm draped across the trim waist as he cuddled against his yami.

There had to be something they could do, and he felt that the answer was hovering just out of reach. He was missing something, some important clue, and it was irritating him almost as badly as Malik’s disappearance was. He didn’t want to see Yugi hurt, and one thing Malik had said was right . . . Yami was probably suffering in there, trapped within the shell of his own body.

Sighing, he turned away from the depressing sight, making his way down the hallway to the stairs and slowly descending the spiraling walk until he came to the front foyer and through it to the den.

“Malik is in the library.” He froze two steps into the room as Seto spoke to him, not even raising his head from the book in which he was currently ensconced. “He’s going through some stuff he brought over from your apartment.” He shifted in his seat before raising sapphire eyes to look at Marik. “The others have all been sent home, with the exception of Bakura and Ryou. They need the rest . . . and their hanging around here won’t do Yugi any good, nor us if we’re to find the answer to this problem.”

“Thank you,” Marik replied quietly. Padding across the hardwood floor, he came to stand beside the fireplace, resting one hand against the cool stonework as he stared into the flames.

“You don’t have any idea how to help him, do you?” Seto asked, setting aside his book and rising to stand opposite of the young Egyptian. Blonde hair waved against bronzed skin as Marik shook his head slightly, lavender eyes never leaving the flickering fire. “I thought not. Do you think your yami will find anything in those scrolls?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Possibly. There’s so much that we don’t know about how our yami’s are tied to this time, and the Items . . . if there’s anything, it’ll be in those scrolls.” He sighed, shifting uneasily. “I just hope I’m not grasping at straws here. It will break Yugi to lose Yami again.”

“Well, then we’ll simply have to see that doesn’t happen, won’t we?” the brunette said lightly, but his sapphire eyes were serious. “How strong is the chance that Kage breaks through the shields Yugi said he sensed?”

“There’s no way to tell. I doubt it’s even remotely likely . . . Yami would have thrown everything he had left into making them, knowing they were the only thing protecting Yugi and the rest of us from his darkness. But Bakura’s shields on the room should keep him in check should he manage to accomplish the impossible.” He shifted slightly before turning. “I should go check on Malik,” he murmured, and Seto nodded to him before he walked out of the den, turning right at the door and heading for the library. He had an apology that needed to be made.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


In an upstairs bedroom, Bakura shifted restlessly in his sleep, not feeling the body pressed against his. He was looking for something . . . what he didn’t know, but ahead of him stretched a long, dark corridor, doors lining the walls. Those walls were covered in blood, and the thick red fluid ran freely down the stone hallway in a thin river of crimson.

“Bakura . . .” a voice whispered, and he started in shock.

“Yami?” he called out, listening to his voice echo in the empty vastness of the hallway. “Pharaoh?”

“The Puzzle . . .” Yami’s voice came back, from all sides and none, like a ghostly whisper across his skin.

“What about it?” he shouted. “I’m not after the Items anymore!”

“The Puzzle is the key . . .”

He awoke with a start, red-brown eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling, a cold sweat breaking out as he saw the shadows retreat from the bed out of the corner of his eye. Shadow Magic . . . but how? Had he really contacted Yami somehow? Or had that been Kage? Gods, he wished he knew. What had that been about?

Untangling his limbs from Ryou, who merely whimpered at the loss of his warmth before rolling over onto his side and curling back under the blankets, he rose from the bed unsteadily. Stalking across the carpet to their bathroom, he splashed some cold water on his face, eyes rising to stare at himself in the mirror. He’d definitely looked better . . . this incident had taken it’s toll on all of them, Yugi most of all, but he wasn’t doing much better.

He sank onto the toilet, cradling his head in his hands as a throbbing headache began to pulse behind his eyelids. What had that dream been about? It was obviously more than a simple reflection of his state of mind . . . but what had it meant? ‘The Puzzle is the key . . .’ the key to what? To getting Yami back? To setting Kage loose? What?

“I hate this prophetic camel-shit,” he grumbled, and rose to find Marik. Maybe the Egyptian could help him sort it out.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Snarling and growling, Kage stalked the walls of his prison, metaphysical hands clenched into fists, blood red eyes glowing with anger. This was not the way things were supposed to turn out! Damn them all . . . if he’d been able to weaken Yami just a bit more, to break the Pharaoh’s spirit and will . . . he would have been free!

Instead, he was trapped behind the shield’s his weaker self had thrown up at the last minute, unable to break out, tossed into a metaphysical limbo until he could find a weakness.

There had been another presence just a short while ago . . . it had almost felt like that damn Tomb Robber, but how the hell was that possible?! No one else could get into this mind . . . Yami had made sure of that. No one could get in . . . and he couldn’t get out. Of course, neither could the Pharaoh, which was small comfort considering the circumstances, but comfort nonetheless. The agony his weak half must be in, conscious and knowing that he was trapped inside his own mind, never to see his precious aibou or his pitiful friends again . . . amusing, although frustrating that he couldn’t be the cause of it.

He could just dimly sense the Pharaoh . . . they were separated, which shouldn’t have occurred. Had he done something wrong? They should have become one being again, with him being the dominant personality. This was unexpected, and annoying, that they were still separate parts of the same whole.

A fist into the wall gained him nothing more than split knuckles, and the taste of his own blood on his tongue as he licked at the crimson fluid absently.

He would find a way to get out of here . . . he just wasn’t sure how or when. That was fine, though . . . he had all the time in the world.

*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Yami uncurled from his position, surprised to find himself suddenly in a room after floating in a void for what seemed like an endless amount of time. Were his shield’s weakening? A quick check sufficed to assure him that they were not . . . neither he nor Kage were any closer to their body and his aibou than they had been. So why the sudden change in surroundings?

An echo of a presence caught his attention, and he studied it before starting upright in surprise. Someone had been near his prison . . . and not just any someone, but Bakura. But how? And why?

He was surprised he hadn’t been thrown into the Afterlife yet . . . Bakura and Malik at least had to know that killing his body was the only answer at this point. Were they somehow keeping him alive, in the hopes of undoing this? Why would they bother? Didn’t they understand that he would rather be dead?

He shook his head, crimson eyes closing wearily before forcing his body to stand, surprised to find himself in clothing. And not just any clothing, but his raiment as Pharaoh. Strange, but not entirely unexpected. He had frequently found himself in such clothing at unexpected moments in his Soul Room. His memories may have continued to remain hidden from him, but some part of his soul remembered enough to provide him with clothing such as what he had once worn.

A presence behind him startled him, and he whirled around . . . only to freeze as he met the depthless, nearly soulless blue eyes of Shadi, the keeper of the Millennium Items.

“Pharaoh,” the white clad Egyptian began. “Your time on this plane has not ended.” Crimson eyes narrowed, brows drawing together in a frown of confusion.

“How are you here, Shadi?” he asked. “And where is here?”

“This is your Soul Room, my Pharaoh. It exists outside of the Puzzle, not in it as you thought. But now there are two where there should be only one . . . Kage has become completely separate from you, a separate entity entirely. It has thrown off the balance, and only you and the others can reclaim that essential level. Kage must be destroyed.” Yami growled, his hands clenching into fists.

“Do you think I don’t want that?!” he snapped. “I would like nothing more than to return to Yugi and the others . . . but I cannot do that without putting them in danger. Not to mention facing what I have done to them . . . what Kage has done to them. That balance you cherish so highly can never be restored!”

“There you are wrong, my Pharaoh,” Shadi replied, beginning to fade from the room. “You are merely looking at the outcome, and not the possible solutions. You are the King of Games . . . and this is nothing more than the ultimate Shadow Game.” With that, he faded from view, leaving Yami to stare at where he had stood and wonder . . . just what exactly had the mysterious Egyptian meant?
Reaching out with what little senses outside of this room he had left himself, he took in the comforting presence of his aibou, and pondered this strange turn of events.


*-------*-------*-------*-------*


Marik walked into the library, stopping just inside the door as he took in his dark, blonde head resting against the table at which he’d ensconced himself, out cold. The wooden surface was literally covered with scrolls and ancient texts, as was the floor around it. It looked like a minefield . . . one that he carefully picked his way through to lay a gentle hand on one bronzed shoulder.

His yami started awake at the contact, violet eyes opening as he sat upright, forcing Marik to back up a step.

“Marik,” Malik growled, all the hurt coming back at seeing his light half standing behind him. “What do you want, hikari?” He was startled when the lavender eyes darkened slightly in pain, before the real surprise took over.

“I’m sorry . . . for what I said earlier,” the smaller blonde murmured, moving to take a seat on the opposite side of the table, carefully dislodging the scrolls that had taken up residence there. Sinking into the wooden chair, he turned his gaze back to his dark, smiling slightly at the surprise in those familiar and once feared violet eyes. “You were only telling the truth . . . I just simply didn’t want to hear it.” He sighed and shifted uneasily before turning his attention to other things . . . namely, what his dark was doing. “Do you think we’ll find answers in these?”

Malik shrugged, turning his own attention to the items he had retrieved, letting his light’s apology simmer in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure what he would find in this mess . . . but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing, which was the only other option.

“I don’t know what we might find,” he replied quietly. “But looking through these is better than the alternative.” Marik nodded.

“Yes, it is,” he whispered. He reached across the table, taking his dark’s hand in his own lightly, silently thanking him for at least attempting to find an answer. They both jumped when the library door slammed open, to admit one very flustered and aggressive thief into the silence of the book filled room.

“There you two psycho’s are,” he growled, stalking across the space to fling himself into an armchair. Twin platinum eyebrows raised at this . . . Bakura calling them psycho’s was definitely under the classification of the camel calling the jackal ugly. “I just had the strangest dream imaginable, and it was Shadow Magic enhanced to boot.” That caught their attention, and two very different shades of purple turned to stare at the pale thief in confusion.

“What do you mean, Bakura?” Marik asked finally. The former thief sighed, shaking his head to show his own inability to really put his confusion into words.

“I was in a hallway . . . much like the one that divide our minds between hikari and yami,” he explained. “This one was covered in blood, and had three doors, not two. But what really disturbed me was the voice. I heard Yami . . . the true Yami, not Kage, but the Pharaoh himself. He said something about the Puzzle being the key. Then I woke up, and there was Shadow Magic evident in the room.” Red-brown eyes turned to the near-twins sitting at the wood table, one pale eyebrow arching in response to their confused faces. “Now, being as the two of you are the most knowledgeable about the damn items, and the Pharaoh in particular . . . maybe you can answer my question. What the hell is the Puzzle a key to?”

The two Egyptians looked at each other, just as confused as Bakura was on the whole thing. The Puzzle being a key to something was news to them, too. What the hell did it mean?

This would bear thinking on. It was a rather cryptic clue, but unless they could figure it out, it wouldn’t help them any. And had it really been Yami, reaching out to Bakura in some way? How was that even possible? And why would the Pharaoh have reached out to his former nemesis and not his aibou?

The whole situation just kept getting more and more complicated, with no end and answers in sight. How much more was ahead of them before all of this was taken care of?