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the_goldenpathTitle: Red Dawn or the World ends Tomorrow
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Pairings: Yamishipping (YnY x YnB x YnM), Anzu x Honda, unrequited Yuugi x Anzu, one-sided Mahaado x Atemu
Warnings: violence, angst, potty mouths, shounen-ai, major character death!
Genre: AU, science fiction, action/adventure
Diclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Takahasi Kazuki. No money is made off of this. Fic written just for entertainment purposes.
Summary: Seven Items, seven Generals. What once was the peaceful green Earth has turned into a war-ridden danger zone under the tyrannical rule of Kaiba Gozaburo, with Domino City, Japan, as the centre of his empire. The resistance, led by young rebel Mutou Yuugi, is searching for a way to retrieve the seven so-called Sennen Items, as they are believed to hold the power to bring universal peace. It’s only a matter of time before Yuugi crosses paths with the Generals in his search, ultimately meeting the most powerful of them all: the one they call ‘Pharaoh’.
Author’s note: Feedback is greatly appreciated. I refer to Yami no Malik/ Malik no yami no jinkaku as ‘Marik’ for the flow of the story.
Key: ----------- = scene change
Continued from here .
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Bakura had expected at least some resistance. A feisty push or a pull, or a tug at his hair. Instead, he rolled over the ground with the other Bakura, a knife firmly stuck into his shoulder, his hand clasped around the handle. The other Bakura had gasped in surprise, but that was it. He tumbled over him and took the knife out again, immediately getting back up on his feet and shifting into a fighting stance.
He just… lied there. Lifeless for a moment, with the Ring half on his chest, half on his side – the prongs were heavy, slowly dragging the Item down to the ground, if it weren’t for Bakura finally moving. He brought up his hand and touched the place where he had been stabbed, dabbing his fingers through the blood. Baffled, he looked at the liquid on his fingertips, dripping over his skin. Real blood. He had really been stabbed. Almost in shock, he looked up at the standing Bakura.
“You stabbed me.”
Bakura looked down on his lying namesake with all the contempt he could muster. This weakling, this boy, was going to take his life? With all his talk about this ‘dark side’ of his soul, and unable to hurt each other? Look at him! He was just lying there, staring in disbelief at his fingers. He snorted.
“I do not know where you are coming from, but you are supposed to be dying.”
“I told you before, you cannot hurt me, and I cannot hurt you.”
“Prove it,” Bakura said.
“You just witnessed it yourself.”
“You are bleeding. Maybe you can survive one stab wound, but I have got lots more where that came from.”
The other Bakura threw him a sudden haughtily look and got back up on his feet, albeit slowly. His fingers hooked behind the Ring he was carrying, and he muttered something under his breath. Isis. Why hadn’t she told him everything? She had burdened him and Malik with the knowledge of these dark halves and the upcoming fight moments before she died; leaving them with the question of how to solve it. Bakura Ryou had never, ever thought in his life to be involved in this, a war, a Resistance – a fight with his supposedly dark half.
Truth be told, he had never heard of ‘Sennen Items’, a ‘dark half’ and everything about the Resistance before. He knew about Domino City as that was Kaiba Gozaburo’s seat of power. That his pendant, a gift from his father, turned out to be a Sennen Item, was a revelation brought to him by Malik Ishtar when they met. He had never asked to be involved in any of this, and he would have gladly given his pendant to Malik and let him deal with it – but he couldn’t.
Malik was the first and only friend that he had, and even though he didn’t like to admit it, Bakura had always searched for something in his life. Something or someone that was missing. It could be the other part of his soul; it could be someone to love or care about. He had never entertained the idea that his soul might be missing something, and when he saw the other Bakura, glaring at him, menacingly poised with the knife in his hand, he couldn’t imagine himself to be possibly missing that.
“You do not belong in this world,” he said. “You are a creation.”
“So what?” Bakura snorted. He shook with his hand, droplets of blood flying off the knife and spattering on the ground. He knew he was a creation – Gozaburo reminded him of that often enough. He didn’t know exactly how or why he was created; only that it had to do with something called ‘virtual reality’, something that the whole Kaiba family was obsessed with. Power was knowledge, but he had concentrated on the Items first. There was a deep-rooted, inexplicable longing for those Items in him, and he had thought that, after collecting all the Items, he could always learn about that ‘virtual reality’ himself. Who cared for Gozaburo, the world, virtual or not, when one had the Items?
He licked his lips. “Creations have their purposes.”
“There is only one thing redeeming you,” Bakura said and withdrew his fingers from the Ring. He had almost been caressing the thing. “Someone you care for. That will save you in the end… somehow.”
“I do not care,” he answered, and he calmly walked towards his namesake, adjusting the position of his wrist and drove the knife right into his ribs. It was impossible to deliver a more fatal wound than that; he must have reached the heart. Grinning, he pushed just a little further, the knife sinking into tissue and flesh until the entire blade disappeared.
Bakura looked at the knife protruding from his chest, the hand of the other Bakura still around it, and he put his hand over his namesake’s. “Your skin is soft,” he said, not perturbed at all by the deadly weapon sticking out of him. “Someone is caring for you too, right?”
He refused to get distracted. He knew the golden God had appeared, and that it was preparing itself for an attack as soon as the Pharaoh would give the word. Domino City would be reduced to ashes and the whole Resistance would be wiped out including these two. All that would remain were the Items, which he would collect himself. He wasn’t going to get distracted by the golden God or by the other Bakura who started to creep him out, him of all people. How could he remain so calm with a knife wedged into his heart, and make a comment on how about his skin felt?
With one brusque movement, he wanted to withdraw his hand, but discovered that he couldn’t. The other Bakura held onto his hand, a grip he should easily free himself from, but he couldn’t move. His body disobeyed him. He could only watch how the other gently caressed his hand and traipsed with his fingers over his fingers, and it weirded him out.
“Who- what are you?”
“I am the other half of your soul, you know that.” He smiled. “I am looking very much forward to share my soul with you again.”
“I do not know what you are talking about, but no one is going to share souls with…”
The prongs of the Ring chimed and suddenly pointed forwards, to him. They basked in a soft glow, but the sharp ends of the prongs intimidated him, made him feel… scared. Bakura had never felt scared before, uncomfortable at most. He was just a creation… created to survive everything and anything. He felt compelled to look to the right where Marik was supposed to be, and all he saw was Malik with the Sennen Rod; the dagger in one hand, the end cap in another. Malik was slowly approaching them, clearly doubting whether to help out or not, and in a last ditch effort, Bakura wanted to use another knife with his free hand, but the stabbing weapon fell out of his fingers before he could use it.
“You do not belong in this world. Time to go.”
“T-Time to go?” Bakura stammered, completely taken aback by the change in attitude in the other Bakura. He didn’t imagine the fingers caressing him one more time before he was pushed, still gently, and he took a step backwards, not understanding. The prongs were deadly quiet, the Ring not chiming, and fear gulfed through him. He had only time for one last look at the other Bakura as he was taken by the shadows, dissolving his body. He didn’t even scream.
Bakura fell on his knees, doubling over as he removed the knife from his chest, using the last of his strength to hurl it away. Malik stepped over it as he hurried towards his friend and quickly grabbed him by the upper arms, forcing him upright.
“Bakura! Look at me, Bakura.”
“When.. when is it my time to go?” he asked, voice etched with pain. Malik shook his head, but he understood him.
“Your time is a long, long way from here,” he answered. “Come, we have to get the Items to Yuugi. They have lost every meaning to us now.”
At least to him; he wanted to get rid of the dagger. Malik realized he still hadn’t screwed the end cap on and proceeded to do so, while Bakura slowly worked himself up again, balancing on the balls of his feet.
“What happened to them?”
“I don’t know.” Malik made sure he heard the fastening ‘click’ of the cap. “Isis didn’t know either. Some things are far beyond our comprehension. We wouldn’t be able to understand the nature and origin of their creation for the life of us. Accepting them for whatever they are and allowing them to share our soul again, cancelled their existence, I guess.”
“I do not want to know,” Bakura shivered. The Ring hung lifelessly against his chest, the prongs rattling again, shifting with every movement he made. “I do not want to know.”
“We will find out, and make Gozaburo pay if he has done something…”
“No. No more killing.”
“This wasn’t a kill.”
Bakura looked at him. “How can you be so calm about this? Look at you, you are injured… I am injured…”
“Because it wasn’t a kill,” Malik repeated. “We didn’t kill them, Bakura. If they are truly the other part of our souls, our dark half, our negative feelings, whatever they might have been, they have returned to us somehow, making us… whole again? We couldn’t inflict real pain to each other. That has to mean that we were one and the same.”
Despite everything, Bakura chuckled softly. “I have never heard you say such things before. Weren’t you the one who disliked everything reeking of psychology and deeper meanings?”
“Well, everything changes after meeting your dark half and… sort of absorbing him. Do you feel any different?”
“No. I just feel sad, because I still think I killed him.”
“Maybe we don’t belong to this world either.”
“Wh-what?”
“Isis was a General, these two were our dark halves. When they… disappeared, they didn’t leave a body. Maybe, because we are involved in all of this, we don’t belong to this world either?”
“Nonsense,” Bakura said and was taken aback by his own vehemence. “I will not believe that.”
“Then let’s find our purpose,” Malik said and sounded excited. “We deliver the Items to Yuugi and his Resistance and we get the hell away from here.”
“Away? With that light in the sky?”
“Do you want to stay here and look at it?”
Bakura thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I want to go with you.”
“We have done our part. We can go back to Egypt… or what’s left of it.”
“Egypt. My father is in Egypt.”
“My roots are there as well,” Malik encouraged him. “Come on, Bakura. We’re nomads anyway.”
This time the other nodded and his face was set in determination. “Very well. We will go back to Egypt.”
It didn’t feel like a goal, it didn’t even feel definitive. Some things were hard to understand, especially after what he witnessed, but Bakura knew one thing - that he would never feel really at home, not anywhere. That was a fate he shared with a lot of people in this war-torn world, but he had the choice to do something about it. He had chosen to help his friend with defeating crucial people, two… creations, entities, who were linked to the powerful General, the Pharaoh. Without them, he would probably be weakened, vulnerable. It didn’t make Bakura feel happy about what happened. However, some things were out of his hands, out of his reach, and he had only Malik.
They would need each other badly, to deal with everything, as Malik still had a difficult time accepting Isis’death. The only thing he could do, was to stand by his friend and help him.
Bakura nodded to no one in particular and went after Malik who already walked down the road, the Rod tucked between the belt loops as usual. His own Ring bumped with every movement against his chest, just below the blood stains, but the prongs had stopped rattling, and no chime came from the Item.
------------------------------------------
It was… amazing. Disconcerting, yet amazing, how someone could summon – and maintain control over – such an impressive beast? Yuugi could feel the power oozing off of the creature, which simply hovered in the air, wings spread, its massive torso covered with gold, its head turned towards its master, beak slightly open. Yuugi’s knees felt wobbly, and he tried to get up again, but he was so overwhelmed by the display of power that he needed a full minute to collect his bearings. He could easily look straight into the bright light coming from the God, and he noticed that the previous spots swimming in his vision had disappeared.
The question was, why had Pharaoh summoned another God? The red dragon had disappeared after its attack. Why would he leave? Yuugi’s only thought was that the Pharaoh might feel in danger and had summoned another God to protect him.
“Please don’t,” he said out loud, but his voice was hoarse and drowned out by the intensity of the God who slightly moved its wings, causing a firm wind to sweep over the town’s plaza. It almost knocked him off of his feet, and Yuugi had to struggle to keep his balance. Ignoring the pain in his body, he moved towards the Pharaoh.
“Please don’t,” he repeated, louder this time, and to his surprise, the Pharaoh responded - but not exactly the way he had in mind. The man doubled over, falling onto his hands and knees. Yuugi was immediately filled with concern - the other was in pain, and Yuugi’s natural born feelings of compassion took over.
“Pharaoh,” he called for him, louder. “Pharaoh.”
He didn’t receive an answer and he took a bold step forward, immediately nailed to the spot when the God opened its beak further to let out a horrifying, screeching sound. Yuugi recalled how sensitive Osiris had been, launching an attack on its own when it felt its master had been threatened, and somehow he couldn’t believe he was going to survive an attack from this God.
“Pharaoh, please, I only want to speak with you.”
He was muttering something, an ancient language that Yuugi recognized from it sounds, but not exactly the words. It was almost as if he was praying - what was going on?
“Pharaoh, please.” How did one address a Pharaoh anyway?
“Your Highness,” he said. He didn’t dare to approach him even if he only wanted to help him.
The God lowered itself a little, hovering over its master, intensifying its golden light. The Pharaoh got back up on his feet and slowly turned around. If Yuugi had thought that they looked similar from the earlier glimpse he caught of him, he was certainly even more surprised to see how little they actually differed from each other. He was mesmerized by the Pharaoh’s eyes, shocked by the anger and hatred in those red, blood red irises. All the hatred, all the pain and sadness he could see, all the anger was concentrated in those two pools that seemed to consist of running blood, smoldering, smothering. He swallowed.
“You want to speak with me?” His voice was low, booming, and anger dripped from his words. “You, who took Mahaado away from me? Who took in a traitor, who thwarted our goals?”
“Isis-san wasn’t a traitor,” Yuugi protested.
“Silence! You do not talk back to me!”
Yuugi remained silent, offended. He didn’t need another look at the Pharaoh’s eyes to know that the anger and hatred were aimed at him. This man couldn’t be reasoned with, and he had been so naïve to think he could just walk up to him and have a conversation... when the Pharaoh remained silent as well, Yuugi frowned and looked up again, straight into man’s eyes. He was looking at him.
“Why do you resemble me so much?”
“I do not know,” Yuugi answered truthfully. “I wish to talk to you, Pharaoh. Would you please… ehh… call off your God?”
“I do not have to talk to you about anything,” the Pharaoh answered and he suddenly gasped, a look of utter pain flashing over his face.
“What’s the matter?”
“Marik… Bakura…” The Pharaoh’s voice was barely audible, but Yuugi could make out the names. The other gripped at his chest, his fingers clenching convulsively, and he seemed distracted for a moment, until the fierce hatred was back into his eyes.
“You told them to kill them,” he said. “You have killed them! You have taken them away from me!”
The golden God, still hovering in the air, responded fiercely by opening its beak in an indignant cry, screeching so loud it almost perforated his ear drums. It moved its wings, causing such a wind that Yuugi had difficulties standing upright once more.
“No! What are you talking about? Please, Pharaoh! Stop this! You must feel deep down, in your heart, that this is wrong. This is all wrong! This is not the way it’s supposed to be. Mahaado told me everything about you, how you were a fair and just ruler…”
“Mahaado,” the Pharaoh repeated.
“Gozaburo did so much wrong,” Yuugi continued. “He enslaved you and forced you to wear that armor of yours. He doesn’t have the best intentions for you, and he makes everyone around him suffer, including you.”
“Suffer,” the Pharaoh parroted, but then shook his head. “No. Gozaburo has always taken care of me. He gave me Marik and Bakura - and you took them away from me! Just as you took Mahaado from me!”
“Your friend is safe with us,” Yuugi said. At least, he hoped Mahaado was safe, as he hadn’t seen him since Osiris’ attack. “Please Pharaoh, we have to talk.”
Silence. Yuugi looked at the Pharaoh, showing nothing but faith and hope to the other, meeting his angry, heated gaze without a flinch. He was seriously thinking that he was getting through to the other, as the Pharaoh mellowed, if only a little, the scowl on his lips smoothing into a thin, almost disapproving line - but not in rejection. If he wasn’t so nervous, Yuugi probably would’ve smiled disarmingly; as it was, he extended his hand to reach for the Pharaoh. He saw the mistake he made a second too late.
“Winged Dragon of the Heavens,” the Pharaoh spoke, shying away from Yuugi, “atta-”
“My Pharaoh!” Mahaado’s voice rolled over the plaza, interrupting the Pharaoh. He was also too late - the God acknowledged the half-spoken command, and opened its beak.
Yuugi looked behind him, searching for Mahaado - but the only thing he saw was a car with several people in it, and Anzu behind the steering wheel. She firmly stepped on the brakes, the tires burning rubber as the vehicle came to a halt at the edge of the plaza. Mahaado tried to immediately climb out of the car, but was hindered by his robes and his injured leg.
Yuugi didn’t recognize the two sitting next to the magician-General; the tall one, with short cropped brown hair and closed eyes, seemed to be asleep. It was disturbing to see how skinny he was, his pale cheeks hollow and his jaw line sharp, the skin tight around the bone. A young kid was curled against his side, but he appeared to be healthy and well-fed. To his relief, he recognized the person sitting next to Anzu, and he yelled his name out loud.
“Otogi-kun! You’re alive!”
Otogi waved as he tried to get up himself. Anzu opened the door and slid out of her seat. Mahaado ran past the car, a little comical the way he was hopping with his leg – the bloodied bandages were hard to miss – to join the Pharaoh, who stared in disbelief at him. In the sky, hovering over the plaza, the God was preparing its attack, collecting an orb of energy as its beak was opened, the raw power crackling and jittering through the air.
“Yuugi! Are you all right?”
He turned around, as it wasn’t Anzu who had spoken. Yuugi was thrilled to see Jounouchi, Honda and Shizuka appearing from the other side. All his friends had made it, and from the looks of it, they had survived without sustaining severe injuries. He felt more relief and gratitude to be reunited with his friends again. There was, however, no time for a happy reunion. Everyone could see and feel the danger from the impending attack. Mahaado was close to the Pharaoh, and Yuugi had never seen the magician-General so agitated like this.
“My Pharaoh, you must call off the attack! Please listen to me!”
“They killed them,” he hissed, “they killed you!”
Mahaado didn’t hesitate and wasn’t scared to put both his hands on the Pharaoh’s shoulders. The shorter man seemed to be out of control, his red eyes blazing, and his lips drawn into a tight line, his face set in an intense hunger for destruction. Seeing his friend injured had put his rage and anger into overdrive. Mahaado felt his heart break; this wasn’t what he wanted, this wasn’t what he ever wanted to see.
“I am still alive, my Pharaoh,” he whispered. He wouldn’t personally mourn the passing of Marik and Bakura, but he saw how much it affected the one he cared for. “Call off the attack, please. It will do no one any good if… my Pharaoh, please. You are exhausted, overexerted. You need some rest. Please call off the attack and come with me.”
“You are dead! They took you away from me! Away from me, all alone! I do not even have you anymore! They have to suffer!”
“It is all right,” Mahaado said, forcefully ignoring the God building up its attack. The Pharaoh could still recall it, even at the last moment. If only he could reach him, could get through to him…
“Gozaburo lied to you,” the magician-General continued. “I have never been a prisoner. I was treated with respect, and I have learned a lot from the Resistance, things that you should learn too, my Pharaoh.” He hoped that by using ‘my’ instead of ‘Great’, the Pharaoh would look up at him and realize it was really Mahaado talking to him. He hoped that the personal touch would convince him to call off the attack. He was nonetheless afraid that it might already be too late… there was nothing personal he could see in those eyes, on the face, nothing like his Pharaoh and how he used to be.
“He has never lied to me before,” the Pharaoh answered mechanically. “The Dragon of Heavens will eradicate this Resistance, and bring you back to me, bring them back to me..!”
“Can you not see?” Mahaado begged. “My Pharaoh! Can you not see what he has done to you? How he has forced you to wear that armor that makes you feel bad, sluggish and unlike yourself? How he has called you back from Egypt to disturb your search for your Item?”
“Item?” Otogi parroted. They were grouped around Yuugi. Shizuka held herself upright between her brother and Otogi, holding their hands. She had gasped in horror when feeling his thin fingers, and stood closer to him than to Jounouchi; he let it slide for the moment. “Wait,” he cried out loud, “We have the Items right here.”
“What?”
Otogi let go of Shizuka’s hand reluctantly, and turned around to run back to the car. Honda followed him just in case, and the others looked at their retreating backs, confused.
“You have the Items?” Mahaado had overheard it and cast a quick glance at the golden God. It was still building up the necessary energy for the attack, and it wouldn’t take that much longer. If he didn’t persuade the Pharaoh into forfeiting the attack… the Pharaoh himself had his eyes on Otogi, but it wasn’t quite Gozaburo’s former assistant he was staring at. He lifted a hefty, bulky bag from the backseat of the car and put on the ground.
Otogi opened the bag and took out two bundles of clothing and quickly unwrapped them. He showed the contents by holding his hands up high, the golden Items reflecting the light from the God, shining brightly.
“The Scales,” Mahaado gasped, “The Ankh! My Pharaoh, those are the real Items!”
“Where is mine!” The Pharaoh bellowed, his eyes showing an intense greed.
“I do have one more,” Otogi said. He handed the two Items over to Honda, who looked in amazement at the strange, yet powerful mystical objects. Otogi searched through the bag and finally held up a small, golden box, triumphantly. It was heavy, so he used both hands. The box with the lid was probably the most precious object, the way it was crafted, carved with markings, a remnant of an ancient language. It had an outlandish beauty to it, even more so than the other Items. Truly, this was a real treasure.
“My Puzzle!” The Pharaoh roared and if it weren’t for Mahaado, he would have jumped right at Otogi. Yuugi only saw the box and he figured the puzzle pieces must be inside – or maybe the Pharaoh referred to the box as it being a Puzzle? Or the box was a puzzle itself?
“Where did you get those? Have you stolen them?” His tone was accusatory, and the God moved, guarding its masters back while it was building up its attack.
“We stole them from Gozaburo’s vault.” Otogi’s knees buckled, getting nervous from the close presence of the God. “They can vouch for it, because they helped me.” The nod of his head was meant for the two on the backseat of the car, who strangely enough kept themselves out of the situation. Yuugi stood on his tiptoes; remarkably, they seemed to be… asleep?
“Gozaburo had it all the time?”
The Pharaoh looked at Mahaado, as if searching for confirmation. The magician-General shook his head.
“I was not aware of this, my Pharaoh. Remember, I have searched for your Item, for all of our Items, valiantly and profoundly. All of us Generals have searched for them…”
The smaller man looked beyond angry now. “I do not believe this! He did not have any reason to keep my Puzzle away from me!”
“But he did, Pharaoh,” Yuugi suddenly spoke up. He swallowed when seeing the other’s mad and angry eyes on him again, but he wasn’t going to back out now. He showed his hand palms open, to indicate that he wasn’t hiding anything. “He knew that you wouldn’t obey him when you had your Puzzle. It is the most powerful Item of them all, and Gozaburo would be stark raving mad to put more power into the hands of someone who was already able to call forth Gods.”
“Call forth Gods,” the Pharaoh repeated, confusedly.
“He wanted to keep you close, right in the center of his power, to confirm his hold over you. As long as you were close, and wearing the armor he had constructed for you, he could remain in control forever!”
“But I like my armor,” he protested. Yuugi had to smile, he couldn’t help it.
“It does nothing for you, my Pharaoh,” Mahaado gently chided him. “It only serves to keep you under control, just like Mutou Yuugi said. You can trust him, as I trust him...as I trust you.”
“No wonder he called me back from Egypt,” the Pharaoh hissed, ignoring Mahaado’s words. “He said that he would have the others search for my Puzzle, and that he would bring it to me as soon as he had it!”
“He would never have lived up to his word,” Yuugi said. “All that we wanted, were the Items for…”
“Never,” the Pharaoh repeated. “He was lying to me all this time?”
“He wanted to keep you under his control,” Yuugi said. “He would never have given the Puzzle to you.”
“My Pharaoh,” Mahaado said again, “why are we still standing here? We should sit down and rest, and talk. We can bring this to a good end…”
The Pharaoh batted his arm away and growled like a caged animal. “Never!” He yelled out, his voice hysterical. “My Puzzle!”
Mahaado wanted to calm him down, but his words were drown out as the golden God moved its wings to lift itself up, ascending, causing another wind to sweep over the plaza. The creature had assembled more than enough energy, concentrated in a frightening orb of pure power pulsating in its beak, and it moved its head back to release it. In a last ditch effort, the magician-General latched himself onto the Pharaoh, as if he wanted to protect him. The attack launched, engulfing everyone in a bright, blinding light, enveloping them in a heat that should scorch the flesh of their bones, but amazingly didn’t. Yuugi didn’t know who screamed the loudest, and he didn’t care - he thought their lives were going to end at that very moment.
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Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9-1 |
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Pairings: Yamishipping (YnY x YnB x YnM), Anzu x Honda, unrequited Yuugi x Anzu, one-sided Mahaado x Atemu
Warnings: violence, angst, potty mouths, shounen-ai, major character death!
Genre: AU, science fiction, action/adventure
Diclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Takahasi Kazuki. No money is made off of this. Fic written just for entertainment purposes.
Summary: Seven Items, seven Generals. What once was the peaceful green Earth has turned into a war-ridden danger zone under the tyrannical rule of Kaiba Gozaburo, with Domino City, Japan, as the centre of his empire. The resistance, led by young rebel Mutou Yuugi, is searching for a way to retrieve the seven so-called Sennen Items, as they are believed to hold the power to bring universal peace. It’s only a matter of time before Yuugi crosses paths with the Generals in his search, ultimately meeting the most powerful of them all: the one they call ‘Pharaoh’.
Author’s note: Feedback is greatly appreciated. I refer to Yami no Malik/ Malik no yami no jinkaku as ‘Marik’ for the flow of the story.
Key: ----------- = scene change
Continued from here .
Bakura had expected at least some resistance. A feisty push or a pull, or a tug at his hair. Instead, he rolled over the ground with the other Bakura, a knife firmly stuck into his shoulder, his hand clasped around the handle. The other Bakura had gasped in surprise, but that was it. He tumbled over him and took the knife out again, immediately getting back up on his feet and shifting into a fighting stance.
He just… lied there. Lifeless for a moment, with the Ring half on his chest, half on his side – the prongs were heavy, slowly dragging the Item down to the ground, if it weren’t for Bakura finally moving. He brought up his hand and touched the place where he had been stabbed, dabbing his fingers through the blood. Baffled, he looked at the liquid on his fingertips, dripping over his skin. Real blood. He had really been stabbed. Almost in shock, he looked up at the standing Bakura.
“You stabbed me.”
Bakura looked down on his lying namesake with all the contempt he could muster. This weakling, this boy, was going to take his life? With all his talk about this ‘dark side’ of his soul, and unable to hurt each other? Look at him! He was just lying there, staring in disbelief at his fingers. He snorted.
“I do not know where you are coming from, but you are supposed to be dying.”
“I told you before, you cannot hurt me, and I cannot hurt you.”
“Prove it,” Bakura said.
“You just witnessed it yourself.”
“You are bleeding. Maybe you can survive one stab wound, but I have got lots more where that came from.”
The other Bakura threw him a sudden haughtily look and got back up on his feet, albeit slowly. His fingers hooked behind the Ring he was carrying, and he muttered something under his breath. Isis. Why hadn’t she told him everything? She had burdened him and Malik with the knowledge of these dark halves and the upcoming fight moments before she died; leaving them with the question of how to solve it. Bakura Ryou had never, ever thought in his life to be involved in this, a war, a Resistance – a fight with his supposedly dark half.
Truth be told, he had never heard of ‘Sennen Items’, a ‘dark half’ and everything about the Resistance before. He knew about Domino City as that was Kaiba Gozaburo’s seat of power. That his pendant, a gift from his father, turned out to be a Sennen Item, was a revelation brought to him by Malik Ishtar when they met. He had never asked to be involved in any of this, and he would have gladly given his pendant to Malik and let him deal with it – but he couldn’t.
Malik was the first and only friend that he had, and even though he didn’t like to admit it, Bakura had always searched for something in his life. Something or someone that was missing. It could be the other part of his soul; it could be someone to love or care about. He had never entertained the idea that his soul might be missing something, and when he saw the other Bakura, glaring at him, menacingly poised with the knife in his hand, he couldn’t imagine himself to be possibly missing that.
“You do not belong in this world,” he said. “You are a creation.”
“So what?” Bakura snorted. He shook with his hand, droplets of blood flying off the knife and spattering on the ground. He knew he was a creation – Gozaburo reminded him of that often enough. He didn’t know exactly how or why he was created; only that it had to do with something called ‘virtual reality’, something that the whole Kaiba family was obsessed with. Power was knowledge, but he had concentrated on the Items first. There was a deep-rooted, inexplicable longing for those Items in him, and he had thought that, after collecting all the Items, he could always learn about that ‘virtual reality’ himself. Who cared for Gozaburo, the world, virtual or not, when one had the Items?
He licked his lips. “Creations have their purposes.”
“There is only one thing redeeming you,” Bakura said and withdrew his fingers from the Ring. He had almost been caressing the thing. “Someone you care for. That will save you in the end… somehow.”
“I do not care,” he answered, and he calmly walked towards his namesake, adjusting the position of his wrist and drove the knife right into his ribs. It was impossible to deliver a more fatal wound than that; he must have reached the heart. Grinning, he pushed just a little further, the knife sinking into tissue and flesh until the entire blade disappeared.
Bakura looked at the knife protruding from his chest, the hand of the other Bakura still around it, and he put his hand over his namesake’s. “Your skin is soft,” he said, not perturbed at all by the deadly weapon sticking out of him. “Someone is caring for you too, right?”
He refused to get distracted. He knew the golden God had appeared, and that it was preparing itself for an attack as soon as the Pharaoh would give the word. Domino City would be reduced to ashes and the whole Resistance would be wiped out including these two. All that would remain were the Items, which he would collect himself. He wasn’t going to get distracted by the golden God or by the other Bakura who started to creep him out, him of all people. How could he remain so calm with a knife wedged into his heart, and make a comment on how about his skin felt?
With one brusque movement, he wanted to withdraw his hand, but discovered that he couldn’t. The other Bakura held onto his hand, a grip he should easily free himself from, but he couldn’t move. His body disobeyed him. He could only watch how the other gently caressed his hand and traipsed with his fingers over his fingers, and it weirded him out.
“Who- what are you?”
“I am the other half of your soul, you know that.” He smiled. “I am looking very much forward to share my soul with you again.”
“I do not know what you are talking about, but no one is going to share souls with…”
The prongs of the Ring chimed and suddenly pointed forwards, to him. They basked in a soft glow, but the sharp ends of the prongs intimidated him, made him feel… scared. Bakura had never felt scared before, uncomfortable at most. He was just a creation… created to survive everything and anything. He felt compelled to look to the right where Marik was supposed to be, and all he saw was Malik with the Sennen Rod; the dagger in one hand, the end cap in another. Malik was slowly approaching them, clearly doubting whether to help out or not, and in a last ditch effort, Bakura wanted to use another knife with his free hand, but the stabbing weapon fell out of his fingers before he could use it.
“You do not belong in this world. Time to go.”
“T-Time to go?” Bakura stammered, completely taken aback by the change in attitude in the other Bakura. He didn’t imagine the fingers caressing him one more time before he was pushed, still gently, and he took a step backwards, not understanding. The prongs were deadly quiet, the Ring not chiming, and fear gulfed through him. He had only time for one last look at the other Bakura as he was taken by the shadows, dissolving his body. He didn’t even scream.
Bakura fell on his knees, doubling over as he removed the knife from his chest, using the last of his strength to hurl it away. Malik stepped over it as he hurried towards his friend and quickly grabbed him by the upper arms, forcing him upright.
“Bakura! Look at me, Bakura.”
“When.. when is it my time to go?” he asked, voice etched with pain. Malik shook his head, but he understood him.
“Your time is a long, long way from here,” he answered. “Come, we have to get the Items to Yuugi. They have lost every meaning to us now.”
At least to him; he wanted to get rid of the dagger. Malik realized he still hadn’t screwed the end cap on and proceeded to do so, while Bakura slowly worked himself up again, balancing on the balls of his feet.
“What happened to them?”
“I don’t know.” Malik made sure he heard the fastening ‘click’ of the cap. “Isis didn’t know either. Some things are far beyond our comprehension. We wouldn’t be able to understand the nature and origin of their creation for the life of us. Accepting them for whatever they are and allowing them to share our soul again, cancelled their existence, I guess.”
“I do not want to know,” Bakura shivered. The Ring hung lifelessly against his chest, the prongs rattling again, shifting with every movement he made. “I do not want to know.”
“We will find out, and make Gozaburo pay if he has done something…”
“No. No more killing.”
“This wasn’t a kill.”
Bakura looked at him. “How can you be so calm about this? Look at you, you are injured… I am injured…”
“Because it wasn’t a kill,” Malik repeated. “We didn’t kill them, Bakura. If they are truly the other part of our souls, our dark half, our negative feelings, whatever they might have been, they have returned to us somehow, making us… whole again? We couldn’t inflict real pain to each other. That has to mean that we were one and the same.”
Despite everything, Bakura chuckled softly. “I have never heard you say such things before. Weren’t you the one who disliked everything reeking of psychology and deeper meanings?”
“Well, everything changes after meeting your dark half and… sort of absorbing him. Do you feel any different?”
“No. I just feel sad, because I still think I killed him.”
“Maybe we don’t belong to this world either.”
“Wh-what?”
“Isis was a General, these two were our dark halves. When they… disappeared, they didn’t leave a body. Maybe, because we are involved in all of this, we don’t belong to this world either?”
“Nonsense,” Bakura said and was taken aback by his own vehemence. “I will not believe that.”
“Then let’s find our purpose,” Malik said and sounded excited. “We deliver the Items to Yuugi and his Resistance and we get the hell away from here.”
“Away? With that light in the sky?”
“Do you want to stay here and look at it?”
Bakura thought for a moment and then shook his head. “I want to go with you.”
“We have done our part. We can go back to Egypt… or what’s left of it.”
“Egypt. My father is in Egypt.”
“My roots are there as well,” Malik encouraged him. “Come on, Bakura. We’re nomads anyway.”
This time the other nodded and his face was set in determination. “Very well. We will go back to Egypt.”
It didn’t feel like a goal, it didn’t even feel definitive. Some things were hard to understand, especially after what he witnessed, but Bakura knew one thing - that he would never feel really at home, not anywhere. That was a fate he shared with a lot of people in this war-torn world, but he had the choice to do something about it. He had chosen to help his friend with defeating crucial people, two… creations, entities, who were linked to the powerful General, the Pharaoh. Without them, he would probably be weakened, vulnerable. It didn’t make Bakura feel happy about what happened. However, some things were out of his hands, out of his reach, and he had only Malik.
They would need each other badly, to deal with everything, as Malik still had a difficult time accepting Isis’death. The only thing he could do, was to stand by his friend and help him.
Bakura nodded to no one in particular and went after Malik who already walked down the road, the Rod tucked between the belt loops as usual. His own Ring bumped with every movement against his chest, just below the blood stains, but the prongs had stopped rattling, and no chime came from the Item.
It was… amazing. Disconcerting, yet amazing, how someone could summon – and maintain control over – such an impressive beast? Yuugi could feel the power oozing off of the creature, which simply hovered in the air, wings spread, its massive torso covered with gold, its head turned towards its master, beak slightly open. Yuugi’s knees felt wobbly, and he tried to get up again, but he was so overwhelmed by the display of power that he needed a full minute to collect his bearings. He could easily look straight into the bright light coming from the God, and he noticed that the previous spots swimming in his vision had disappeared.
The question was, why had Pharaoh summoned another God? The red dragon had disappeared after its attack. Why would he leave? Yuugi’s only thought was that the Pharaoh might feel in danger and had summoned another God to protect him.
“Please don’t,” he said out loud, but his voice was hoarse and drowned out by the intensity of the God who slightly moved its wings, causing a firm wind to sweep over the town’s plaza. It almost knocked him off of his feet, and Yuugi had to struggle to keep his balance. Ignoring the pain in his body, he moved towards the Pharaoh.
“Please don’t,” he repeated, louder this time, and to his surprise, the Pharaoh responded - but not exactly the way he had in mind. The man doubled over, falling onto his hands and knees. Yuugi was immediately filled with concern - the other was in pain, and Yuugi’s natural born feelings of compassion took over.
“Pharaoh,” he called for him, louder. “Pharaoh.”
He didn’t receive an answer and he took a bold step forward, immediately nailed to the spot when the God opened its beak further to let out a horrifying, screeching sound. Yuugi recalled how sensitive Osiris had been, launching an attack on its own when it felt its master had been threatened, and somehow he couldn’t believe he was going to survive an attack from this God.
“Pharaoh, please, I only want to speak with you.”
He was muttering something, an ancient language that Yuugi recognized from it sounds, but not exactly the words. It was almost as if he was praying - what was going on?
“Pharaoh, please.” How did one address a Pharaoh anyway?
“Your Highness,” he said. He didn’t dare to approach him even if he only wanted to help him.
The God lowered itself a little, hovering over its master, intensifying its golden light. The Pharaoh got back up on his feet and slowly turned around. If Yuugi had thought that they looked similar from the earlier glimpse he caught of him, he was certainly even more surprised to see how little they actually differed from each other. He was mesmerized by the Pharaoh’s eyes, shocked by the anger and hatred in those red, blood red irises. All the hatred, all the pain and sadness he could see, all the anger was concentrated in those two pools that seemed to consist of running blood, smoldering, smothering. He swallowed.
“You want to speak with me?” His voice was low, booming, and anger dripped from his words. “You, who took Mahaado away from me? Who took in a traitor, who thwarted our goals?”
“Isis-san wasn’t a traitor,” Yuugi protested.
“Silence! You do not talk back to me!”
Yuugi remained silent, offended. He didn’t need another look at the Pharaoh’s eyes to know that the anger and hatred were aimed at him. This man couldn’t be reasoned with, and he had been so naïve to think he could just walk up to him and have a conversation... when the Pharaoh remained silent as well, Yuugi frowned and looked up again, straight into man’s eyes. He was looking at him.
“Why do you resemble me so much?”
“I do not know,” Yuugi answered truthfully. “I wish to talk to you, Pharaoh. Would you please… ehh… call off your God?”
“I do not have to talk to you about anything,” the Pharaoh answered and he suddenly gasped, a look of utter pain flashing over his face.
“What’s the matter?”
“Marik… Bakura…” The Pharaoh’s voice was barely audible, but Yuugi could make out the names. The other gripped at his chest, his fingers clenching convulsively, and he seemed distracted for a moment, until the fierce hatred was back into his eyes.
“You told them to kill them,” he said. “You have killed them! You have taken them away from me!”
The golden God, still hovering in the air, responded fiercely by opening its beak in an indignant cry, screeching so loud it almost perforated his ear drums. It moved its wings, causing such a wind that Yuugi had difficulties standing upright once more.
“No! What are you talking about? Please, Pharaoh! Stop this! You must feel deep down, in your heart, that this is wrong. This is all wrong! This is not the way it’s supposed to be. Mahaado told me everything about you, how you were a fair and just ruler…”
“Mahaado,” the Pharaoh repeated.
“Gozaburo did so much wrong,” Yuugi continued. “He enslaved you and forced you to wear that armor of yours. He doesn’t have the best intentions for you, and he makes everyone around him suffer, including you.”
“Suffer,” the Pharaoh parroted, but then shook his head. “No. Gozaburo has always taken care of me. He gave me Marik and Bakura - and you took them away from me! Just as you took Mahaado from me!”
“Your friend is safe with us,” Yuugi said. At least, he hoped Mahaado was safe, as he hadn’t seen him since Osiris’ attack. “Please Pharaoh, we have to talk.”
Silence. Yuugi looked at the Pharaoh, showing nothing but faith and hope to the other, meeting his angry, heated gaze without a flinch. He was seriously thinking that he was getting through to the other, as the Pharaoh mellowed, if only a little, the scowl on his lips smoothing into a thin, almost disapproving line - but not in rejection. If he wasn’t so nervous, Yuugi probably would’ve smiled disarmingly; as it was, he extended his hand to reach for the Pharaoh. He saw the mistake he made a second too late.
“Winged Dragon of the Heavens,” the Pharaoh spoke, shying away from Yuugi, “atta-”
“My Pharaoh!” Mahaado’s voice rolled over the plaza, interrupting the Pharaoh. He was also too late - the God acknowledged the half-spoken command, and opened its beak.
Yuugi looked behind him, searching for Mahaado - but the only thing he saw was a car with several people in it, and Anzu behind the steering wheel. She firmly stepped on the brakes, the tires burning rubber as the vehicle came to a halt at the edge of the plaza. Mahaado tried to immediately climb out of the car, but was hindered by his robes and his injured leg.
Yuugi didn’t recognize the two sitting next to the magician-General; the tall one, with short cropped brown hair and closed eyes, seemed to be asleep. It was disturbing to see how skinny he was, his pale cheeks hollow and his jaw line sharp, the skin tight around the bone. A young kid was curled against his side, but he appeared to be healthy and well-fed. To his relief, he recognized the person sitting next to Anzu, and he yelled his name out loud.
“Otogi-kun! You’re alive!”
Otogi waved as he tried to get up himself. Anzu opened the door and slid out of her seat. Mahaado ran past the car, a little comical the way he was hopping with his leg – the bloodied bandages were hard to miss – to join the Pharaoh, who stared in disbelief at him. In the sky, hovering over the plaza, the God was preparing its attack, collecting an orb of energy as its beak was opened, the raw power crackling and jittering through the air.
“Yuugi! Are you all right?”
He turned around, as it wasn’t Anzu who had spoken. Yuugi was thrilled to see Jounouchi, Honda and Shizuka appearing from the other side. All his friends had made it, and from the looks of it, they had survived without sustaining severe injuries. He felt more relief and gratitude to be reunited with his friends again. There was, however, no time for a happy reunion. Everyone could see and feel the danger from the impending attack. Mahaado was close to the Pharaoh, and Yuugi had never seen the magician-General so agitated like this.
“My Pharaoh, you must call off the attack! Please listen to me!”
“They killed them,” he hissed, “they killed you!”
Mahaado didn’t hesitate and wasn’t scared to put both his hands on the Pharaoh’s shoulders. The shorter man seemed to be out of control, his red eyes blazing, and his lips drawn into a tight line, his face set in an intense hunger for destruction. Seeing his friend injured had put his rage and anger into overdrive. Mahaado felt his heart break; this wasn’t what he wanted, this wasn’t what he ever wanted to see.
“I am still alive, my Pharaoh,” he whispered. He wouldn’t personally mourn the passing of Marik and Bakura, but he saw how much it affected the one he cared for. “Call off the attack, please. It will do no one any good if… my Pharaoh, please. You are exhausted, overexerted. You need some rest. Please call off the attack and come with me.”
“You are dead! They took you away from me! Away from me, all alone! I do not even have you anymore! They have to suffer!”
“It is all right,” Mahaado said, forcefully ignoring the God building up its attack. The Pharaoh could still recall it, even at the last moment. If only he could reach him, could get through to him…
“Gozaburo lied to you,” the magician-General continued. “I have never been a prisoner. I was treated with respect, and I have learned a lot from the Resistance, things that you should learn too, my Pharaoh.” He hoped that by using ‘my’ instead of ‘Great’, the Pharaoh would look up at him and realize it was really Mahaado talking to him. He hoped that the personal touch would convince him to call off the attack. He was nonetheless afraid that it might already be too late… there was nothing personal he could see in those eyes, on the face, nothing like his Pharaoh and how he used to be.
“He has never lied to me before,” the Pharaoh answered mechanically. “The Dragon of Heavens will eradicate this Resistance, and bring you back to me, bring them back to me..!”
“Can you not see?” Mahaado begged. “My Pharaoh! Can you not see what he has done to you? How he has forced you to wear that armor that makes you feel bad, sluggish and unlike yourself? How he has called you back from Egypt to disturb your search for your Item?”
“Item?” Otogi parroted. They were grouped around Yuugi. Shizuka held herself upright between her brother and Otogi, holding their hands. She had gasped in horror when feeling his thin fingers, and stood closer to him than to Jounouchi; he let it slide for the moment. “Wait,” he cried out loud, “We have the Items right here.”
“What?”
Otogi let go of Shizuka’s hand reluctantly, and turned around to run back to the car. Honda followed him just in case, and the others looked at their retreating backs, confused.
“You have the Items?” Mahaado had overheard it and cast a quick glance at the golden God. It was still building up the necessary energy for the attack, and it wouldn’t take that much longer. If he didn’t persuade the Pharaoh into forfeiting the attack… the Pharaoh himself had his eyes on Otogi, but it wasn’t quite Gozaburo’s former assistant he was staring at. He lifted a hefty, bulky bag from the backseat of the car and put on the ground.
Otogi opened the bag and took out two bundles of clothing and quickly unwrapped them. He showed the contents by holding his hands up high, the golden Items reflecting the light from the God, shining brightly.
“The Scales,” Mahaado gasped, “The Ankh! My Pharaoh, those are the real Items!”
“Where is mine!” The Pharaoh bellowed, his eyes showing an intense greed.
“I do have one more,” Otogi said. He handed the two Items over to Honda, who looked in amazement at the strange, yet powerful mystical objects. Otogi searched through the bag and finally held up a small, golden box, triumphantly. It was heavy, so he used both hands. The box with the lid was probably the most precious object, the way it was crafted, carved with markings, a remnant of an ancient language. It had an outlandish beauty to it, even more so than the other Items. Truly, this was a real treasure.
“My Puzzle!” The Pharaoh roared and if it weren’t for Mahaado, he would have jumped right at Otogi. Yuugi only saw the box and he figured the puzzle pieces must be inside – or maybe the Pharaoh referred to the box as it being a Puzzle? Or the box was a puzzle itself?
“Where did you get those? Have you stolen them?” His tone was accusatory, and the God moved, guarding its masters back while it was building up its attack.
“We stole them from Gozaburo’s vault.” Otogi’s knees buckled, getting nervous from the close presence of the God. “They can vouch for it, because they helped me.” The nod of his head was meant for the two on the backseat of the car, who strangely enough kept themselves out of the situation. Yuugi stood on his tiptoes; remarkably, they seemed to be… asleep?
“Gozaburo had it all the time?”
The Pharaoh looked at Mahaado, as if searching for confirmation. The magician-General shook his head.
“I was not aware of this, my Pharaoh. Remember, I have searched for your Item, for all of our Items, valiantly and profoundly. All of us Generals have searched for them…”
The smaller man looked beyond angry now. “I do not believe this! He did not have any reason to keep my Puzzle away from me!”
“But he did, Pharaoh,” Yuugi suddenly spoke up. He swallowed when seeing the other’s mad and angry eyes on him again, but he wasn’t going to back out now. He showed his hand palms open, to indicate that he wasn’t hiding anything. “He knew that you wouldn’t obey him when you had your Puzzle. It is the most powerful Item of them all, and Gozaburo would be stark raving mad to put more power into the hands of someone who was already able to call forth Gods.”
“Call forth Gods,” the Pharaoh repeated, confusedly.
“He wanted to keep you close, right in the center of his power, to confirm his hold over you. As long as you were close, and wearing the armor he had constructed for you, he could remain in control forever!”
“But I like my armor,” he protested. Yuugi had to smile, he couldn’t help it.
“It does nothing for you, my Pharaoh,” Mahaado gently chided him. “It only serves to keep you under control, just like Mutou Yuugi said. You can trust him, as I trust him...as I trust you.”
“No wonder he called me back from Egypt,” the Pharaoh hissed, ignoring Mahaado’s words. “He said that he would have the others search for my Puzzle, and that he would bring it to me as soon as he had it!”
“He would never have lived up to his word,” Yuugi said. “All that we wanted, were the Items for…”
“Never,” the Pharaoh repeated. “He was lying to me all this time?”
“He wanted to keep you under his control,” Yuugi said. “He would never have given the Puzzle to you.”
“My Pharaoh,” Mahaado said again, “why are we still standing here? We should sit down and rest, and talk. We can bring this to a good end…”
The Pharaoh batted his arm away and growled like a caged animal. “Never!” He yelled out, his voice hysterical. “My Puzzle!”
Mahaado wanted to calm him down, but his words were drown out as the golden God moved its wings to lift itself up, ascending, causing another wind to sweep over the plaza. The creature had assembled more than enough energy, concentrated in a frightening orb of pure power pulsating in its beak, and it moved its head back to release it. In a last ditch effort, the magician-General latched himself onto the Pharaoh, as if he wanted to protect him. The attack launched, engulfing everyone in a bright, blinding light, enveloping them in a heat that should scorch the flesh of their bones, but amazingly didn’t. Yuugi didn’t know who screamed the loudest, and he didn’t care - he thought their lives were going to end at that very moment.
Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9-1 |
Tags:
- clashshipping,
- darkshipping,
- psychoshipping,
- red dawn,
- yamishipping,
- yu-gi-oh!: all cast,
- yu-gi-oh!: jounouchi katsuya,
- yu-gi-oh!: jounouchi shizuka,
- yu-gi-oh!: kaiba gozaburo,
- yu-gi-oh!: kaiba mokuba,
- yu-gi-oh!: kaiba seto,
- yu-gi-oh!: mutou yuugi,
- yu-gi-oh!: pharaoh atemu,
- yu-gi-oh!: priest mahaado,
- yu-gi-oh!: yami no bakura,
- yu-gi-oh!: yami no malik,
- yu-gi-oh!: yami no yuugi
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Ooh!
Date: 2009-03-27 08:24 pm (UTC)Re: Ooh!
Date: 2009-03-29 10:03 am (UTC)Re: Ooh!
Date: 2009-03-29 02:35 pm (UTC)Re: Ooh!
Date: 2009-03-29 03:33 pm (UTC)