Unbreak My Heart

Author’s Note: I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter up. I’ve started a new job and things have been fairly hectic lately. For a while, I thought my muses had decided to leave me. However, they haven’t and here’s the next installment. I decided to somewhat lighten things up, if only for a chapter. Special thanks to DracOnyx for everything and to those who have reviewed. By the way, for those who have read DracOnyx’s wonderful story, Redemption, you will recognize the name I am using for Yami. She’s sweetly given permission for me to borrow it as we both aren’t too fond of Atem or Atemu. So for those who aren’t familiar with that story, then READ IT!!! You won’t regret it.

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh. Although, like many others who also have to say this, I truly wish I did. If I did, who knows what kind of trouble I’d cause?

Chapter Five: The Gods Must Be Crazy

Slender fingers tapped restlessly on the polished stone railing as the watcher continued to stare aimlessly at the beautiful view below him. Despite the loveliness of the scenery around him, the figure seemed intent on examining his thoughts and feelings, ignoring everything else that was going on around him.

Sounds of shouting and heavy crashing pulled the young man from his thoughts, and he turned to go back inside. A few swift steps moved him from the balcony into a hallway, where he found many servants screaming in terror as they rushed away from the main audience chamber. Curious as to what was causing this reaction, he quickly snagged the arm of one of the servants and questioned him.

“What’s going on?”

Eyes filled with fear quickly lowered as the servant recognized who had stopped him.

“Forgive me, my Pharaoh, but we cannot remain in the lower halls. We dare not defile it with our presence.”

“Defile it?”

“Yes, Great Son of Ra. Lord Osiris has graced your palace with his presence, and we seemed to have displeased him.”

Lord Osiris has graced his halls? That didn’t sound right at all, especially considering that the gods rarely showed up in such a manner, preferring more mysterious and grandiose ways to speak to the inhabitants of the afterlife. Something just didn’t sound right about this, and the Pharaoh was about to find out what was going on.

The short but regal figure of Amunamenra, the Beautiful Son of Ra, made his way down to his own throne room and paused by the main doors. Before he could push the massive doors open, a familiar voice made him pause.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Turning, crimson eyes fell upon a slender blond haired man. Violet colored eyes gleamed with anger, impatience, curiosity, and a little bit of mischief. Obviously, Malik had been disturbed as well.

“I don’t know. The servants were screaming something about Lord Osiris being down here.”

Malik frowned, shaking his head. Like the Pharaoh, this didn’t seem to sit right with him either. Violet met crimson and then two sets of strong hands pushed open the door.

The sight that greeted them was something the two of them would never have expected, although they probably should have considering who was involved.

A slender but muscular figure sat in Amunamenra’s throne, his legs dangling over one of the golden arms. Silvery white hair brushed against the golden side of the throne as the occupant laid his head against the other arm. That he was able to do this was amazing considering the huge and very familiar headdress he was wearing.

“By all that’s holy, Bakura, tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

Malik’s comment wasn’t as tactful as the one Amunamenra had just spoken.

“Bakura, you are fucked. What the hell were you thinking? And why didn’t you invite me along?”

The thief sat up, his mahogany eyes gleaming as he looked at his two companions. He preened a little bit as he watched the others.

“What do you think of my new headdress? I kind of like how it makes me look.”

“I’m going to have to second Malik on this one, Bakura. What the hell were you thinking? That’s Osiris’s headdress, you idiot! You think he’s not going to notice that it’s missing?”

“So? It’s not like he can’t conjure another one.”

“That’s not the point, Bakura. You just don’t go stealing from the gods. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Bakura leaned back against the throne and waved his hand, dismissing the irate Pharaoh’s question.

“I just had a little fun, that’s all.”

The normally calm voice spiked slightly, reminding Bakura and Malik of the teenager that the Pharaoh had spent so much time with.

“That’s all? Do you know that I’m going to have to explain all of this to them? You’re not the only one who’s going to hear about this, you idiot! In case you haven’t forgotten, I’m responsible for you two.”

“Get over yourself, Yami. No one was hurt. All I did was have a little fun.”

Yami walked to the nearest column and leaned against it, allowing his body to sink to the floor. He removed the heavy crown and laid it on the ground beside him. With eyes closed, he questioned the person sitting on his throne.

“Are you that bored, Bakura?”

The thief shrugged and took of the headdress, resting it on his lap. The mahogany colored eyes held a distant expression as he answered the tri-colored haired monarch.

“Yeah.”

There was a soft sigh and crimson eyes focused again on the thief.

“I want you to take the headdress back, Bakura. I don’t want you to get into anymore trouble.”

Bakura shrugged and casually agreed to the softly spoken request.

“It’s too heavy and ugly anyway. I don’t see how Osiris wears the damned thing. Besides, it’ll be fun trying to sneak it back in.”

“Can I help?”

Yami tried not to laugh at Malik’s eagerly spoken question. He knew that his two companions were not adjusting well to the afterlife. Hell, if he was to be honest with himself, he wasn’t adjusting either.

Dismissing those thoughts, he smiled and shook his head.

“It’s up to you, Bakura. He might come in handy. Who knows?”

“Yeah, Malik, you can come. Let’s get going before we get caught.”
With a soft laugh, the two friends hurried from the throne room, leaving Yami sitting alone in the large chamber.

Needing some time alone, Yami quietly sealed the doors with shadow magic, knowing that very few people could counter the spell. Once he was assured of his privacy, the slender young man climbed to his feet and scooped up the heavy crown that he’d worn during his days as Pharaoh of Egypt.

An expression of fatigue crossed his handsome face as he stared at the intricate piece of jewelry in his hands. Even after all this time had passed since he’d last worn it in the land of the living, Yami found that his hatred for this one item had yet to fade.

Nothing had changed in the thousands of years he’d been isolated from the outside world and his own culture. Despite the power and lavish lifestyle the afterlife promised each monarch, nothing was different. As he had been in the past, the Pharaoh was a prisoner inside his lavish palace.

Because of his youth and inexperience, he’d been limited on what he could do and the only thing that had been encouraged was his studies. That was why he was so powerful in shadow magic, even now.

In the peaceful world of the afterlife, there was nothing to hold Yami’s interest and he found himself back in the trap he’d been encaged in before he had been sealed into the Puzzle. Bakura and Malik, although they complained of boredom, had more freedom than he did and frankly, he was sick of it.

There was a wish in the deepest recesses of his heart, and Yami fought to keep himself from recognizing it. He knew that he could never have that wish, and it was a constant battle to contain the wish where it could not bother his conscious thoughts.

How long the Pharaoh stood there, he never knew. He was drawn from his tempestuous thoughts when a gentle tap against the sealed doors echoed in the chamber.

Snarling for a moment, he tugged on the crown that he loathed and unsealed the doors. One of his so-called advisors entered the room and bowed, not meeting the crimson gaze of his monarch.

“My Pharaoh, there is a messenger waiting outside the palace gates.”

“What messenger?”

“From the gods.”

Yami nearly snarled again, knowing that to leave a messenger at the gates could be considered rude. He wondered, for the thousandth time that week, if he, Bakura, and Malik were surrounded by idiotic people.
“You should know better than to leave a messenger at the gates. Bring them to me.”

As he was left alone, Yami moved towards his throne and muttered under his breath. He knew why the messenger was here, and now he would have to find a way to smooth over the problems that Bakura’s little prank had caused. This was another headache he didn’t want or need.

Sitting down in the uncomfortable chair, Yami could only utter the one word that had become Malik’s favorite curse over the time they’d been here.

“Fuck.”

Author’s Notes: Well, another chapter finished and I’m already being hounded for the next one. LOL!!! Anyway, please review and I’ll keep working! Thank you!!!