a short request for my bff arahith, who asked for thiefshipping + unfamiliar customs.

Egypt isn't the same.

The sun is still harsh on his face, sand still slipping into everything, every little crack and crevice, and yet-

He shouldn't feel homesick in his own country.

The the language is different, a foreign tongue in his own homeland. Even Malik's Egyptian is different, with new words for the modern world mixed in and a dialect all its own. It's enough that they easily understand each other, but still jarring at times.

"You sound like an old man," Malik tells him, laughing. "Goes with your hair, you know?"

"At least I know how to pronounce words," Bakura snaps back, and the two of them argue about the proper way to talk about different foods and people and everything under the sun. But it's still nice, to have someone else speaking the old language with him.

He doesn't hate progress; humanity always, inevitably marches forward, but he's not used to the modern skyscrapers that shoot upwards into the bright blue sky. The sky, at least, is the same.


Despite all the unfamiliar customs, the new beliefs and crumbling ruins, it's still home deep down. And it's good to be back.