Love Lost in Time

By Des and Lucky_Ladybug

Daisy (Lucky_Ladybug): Whoo!! Yes! Now we tell the tale of Yami Bakura and the mysterious Kythiopia! **snuggles Yami B!**

Yami Bakura: **growls threateningly.**

Daisy: ^____^ **snuggles him even more!! . . . Oh! Khu is my character! Yes! X3 And the title is JP's!

Des: … Yo, minna-san! ^_^ I'm Des!

Yami Yugi: DESU?!

Des: … Yeah! None of you have ever heard of me because I suck! ~_~ **pout** But Daisy and I are writing this story together. ^^ So, I'd like to mention that neither of us own YGO although I own Nuru and Kythiopia. Also I want to add that this is based on an RP written prior to us reading the manga, thus, it does not follow the manga and does not intend to. Please do not cut off our fingers and feed them to your offspring.


The sharp steel of the ancient weapon buried itself in the personage's flesh and the dark red blood flowed out from the mortal wound, spilling over the tiles on the floor. It coated the attacker's hands and dripped over the weapon. It stained the nearly lifeless body's skin and hair as haunted eyes looked up at their slayer.

"I . . . I loved you," the tortured form uttered before passing into death and oblivion.


Bakura gasped as he heard the pitiful scream of his Yami followed by a loud crash. Quickly the boy ran into the living room, where he found the old thief tangled up in a confused mess on the floor and struggling with the afghan frantically.

"Kythiopia!!!" he cried out in anguish. "No!!! Kythiopia!!!"

Bakura gasped in horror. "Yami!! Yami, please wake up!!" Urgently he knelt next to his Yami and shook him on the shoulder. "Yami, Kythiopia's not here!"

Yami Bakura slowed his struggle, breathing heavily. Eventually he calmed down enough to open his eyes and look up at his descendant, beads of sweat trailing down his face. "Bakura," he murmured quietly, pulling himself into a sitting position and hugging his knees.

"Yami, whatever is the matter?!" Bakura gasped.

"It was nothing, you dolt," Yami Bakura hissed, shaking his head emphatically.

"Yami, you were in agony!" Bakura retorted, his soft eyes shining in concern.

"It was a nightmare. Nothing more." Yami Bakura rubbed a hand across his forehead as if it pained him.

Bakura studied him in silence for several long minutes, and then spoke at last. "Yami, who is Kythiopia?" he asked quietly.

"What?!" Yami Bakura glared at the young boy in annoyance.

"Yami, you keep waking up in the middle of the night screaming about her," Bakura told him now. "And don't deny it, Yami---I've heard you. Who was she, Yami? I mean, I remember you telling me that she was a guard at the Pharaoh's palace, but . . . she must have been something more to you, Yami." He looked deeply into the thief's tortured brown eyes.

Yami Bakura looked away. "She was a guard, Bakura. Loyal to her Pharaoh to the very end."

Bakura swallowed hard, hesitating. "Yami?"

"What." Yami Bakura glared at the boy in irritation.

"Did you . . ." Bakura paused again, trying to sort out how best to phrase this. "Did you love her, Yami?"

Yami Bakura stood up abruptly and turned to look out the window at Domino City. Slowly he pressed his hand up to the glass, the memories swirling back to him. "Kythiopia," he uttered quietly, clenching his fist angrily as a stray tear slipped down his cheek. Soon he was lost in the shadows of the past, leaving a very confused Bakura behind in the present.

"Yami?" the boy said, puzzled. "Yami, are you quite alright?" He waved his hand across the thief's blank eyes and got no response. "Oh my." Bakura blinked in bewilderment and sat down facing the old thief, wondering what sort of world he had traveled to in his mind but figuring that it had something to do with Kythiopia.

***5,000 years before - Ancient Egypt ****


That was the only adjective that could be used to describe that midnight. All was still and black as a lone silver-haired figure cut through the streets, set in his ways. Bakare, thought of by some as the King of Thieves, was about to live up to his name once again.

With a nasty grin, he approached tonight's tomb, groping for the way to open it. It never took long to find... he was an expert. Moonlight kissed the chamber as the thief crept inside, embracing the shadows as his cloak. The musty scent of the dead filled his nostrils. Sneering, the young man bent down to satisfy his greed.

However, as he collected his treasures, Bakare had yet to recognize another presence within the darkened room.

Kythiopia's eyes narrowed, her back pressed against the wall, her breathing soft. Her sharp eye had fallen on the intruder who had entered this tomb, and she would not allow the plunderer to take his leave. Noiselessly she took a different entrance, eyeing the robber as he defiled this sacred place of rest. She advanced.

"Excuse me."

Bakare felt a touch of metal against his throat, facing her with a glare. Things were always more pleasant when fools would not interfere. However, he could defeat her easily, as soon as this bothersome weapon was away from his neck. The guard leered down at him, her blue eyes containing shards of ice.

"I suggest you unhand those items, if you don't want to see the color of your blood." Kythiopia gripped her glaive tighter, her voice sharp and confident.

"They are of no use to the deceased," Bakare responded, a hint of a smirk tinging his lips. The guard was not amused.

"Would you like to be deceased?"

Bakare glanced at her. "Alright. You have made your point..."

He leaned over in a gesture to drop the valuables, before suddenly lashing out with his foot, impacting with her shin. Fiercely, he grasped her weapon, ripping it from her hands. With a shriek she fell backwards.

"You would be wise not to trifle with me!" he exclaimed victoriously, but victory was short. Kythiopia quickly rolled to her feet, springing into a jumpkick and knocking him down from the chest. Treasure clattered to the ground as the guard reclaimed her weapon, her hair flying from the swift movement.

"And you me! I am more than just a guard." The woman drew her blade across his flesh.

Bakare clapped his hand to his face, glaring hatefully at her as blood trickled through his fingers. He lay on the floor of the tomb, dazed. Kythiopia lifted her weapon, pressing him down with her foot.

"Pathetic..." she uttered.

Angrily, the thief snatched her leg, throwing her backward and arming his own dagger, prepared to deal back his own damage. With catlike reflexes she dodged, punching his back and sending him to the floor again. He rolled to the side as she plunged her glaive toward him, and jumped backwards, regaining his footing. Kythiopia spun around, countering his attack. She winced as he dug his knife into her shoulder, but only for a short time. She threw Bakare off of her, before grazing his side with her blade. Drawing it back, she prepared to strike again. Bakare stared at the female. Once again, she lashed out, but he was prepared. He dodged, gripped the weapon, and thrust her to the floor, before fleeing the scene.

Pulling herself up, the guard glared after the figure as he disappeared into the black.


Bakare retreated far into the dark Egyptian night until he found his favorite hideout and disappeared in through the doors. Collapsing on the floor, he thrust his wine-colored robe off and stared at the wound in his side, which was just above the sash for his kilt. Well, it wasn't that serious, he realized with a smirk. The slice across his right cheek was bothering him far more than this minor injury.

Slowly he pulled himself to his feet and reached for a nearby piece of silver to see his reflection in. "Hmmm," he mused, narrowing his eyes in irritation as he found that the abrasion went from under his right eye almost to his chin. The woman had done an excellent job.

Reaching for a nearby flask of water, he quickly cleaned his battle wounds and bandaged them. "That . . . was no ordinary woman," he finished his sentence at last, speaking aloud to the ghosts of the night. "Intriguing." Bakare had been known as the notorious King of Thieves for years now, and no one had ever managed to get the better of him during one of his pillaging excursions, and especially not any woman. All the women he'd encountered in the past had been scared little things that had practically fainted at their own shadow. Even the stronger, more impressive females he'd encountered would never have had the skills to best him in a fight. He didn't know what it was, but something made him want to see this woman again---and on better terms.

Exhausted now, Bakare collapsed into his bed and soon fell into a deep sleep peppered with dreams of none other than the mysterious guard from the tomb. It almost seemed as if he'd met her somewhere before . . . but he just couldn't place where. Oh well. Perhaps he'd remember in time.


Kythiopia leaned against a wall, surveying the marketplace, a now-crowded bazaar. Although she rarely spoke to anyone, being among people---observing them---sometimes gave her new insights to things, and she had much on her mind. Ominous feelings had been surrounding her about new dangers to come.

For several minutes she waited there, staring out at the bustling people, catching fragments of conversations, meeting eyes with strangers who passed her by. She shifted her sight towards the sky then, squinting at the burning sun. With a sigh, she pushed away from that wall, making her way to the palace, and brushing past a man in crimson robes. She'd taken in enough.

Bakare hardly looked up as he bumped shoulders with the female. He had better things to do... until the glint of her weapon caught his eye. His lip curled in a snarl, and he turned around to stare after her. He moved his hand tentatively to that scar, narrowing his intense eyes. He remembered that glaive, its shine ever reflecting through his mind. He remembered it well.

Pushing through the commonfolk, he followed after her, intrigued. He cut behind a building where it was clearer, and soon caught up with the dark-haired woman, standing in her path as she entered an alley.

Kythiopia stopped, sizing up this character with uncertainty and suspicion. Recognition was absent from her face, but she could see that he was blocking her path. Her eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

"Yes?" she asked, almost demandingly. The male's face was hidden by a cloth veil, and she could only see his eyes. He spoke in a slightly muffled voice.

"That weapon," Bakare started, pointing to the blade. "How long have you had it?"

Kythiopia eyed him with distrust. "That is none of your concern, and I don't care for talk. I have better things to do." She stepped forward, closer to the male, to pass him by.

"Ah, but it is my concern." He spoke into her ear as she hesitated close beside him and turned to pass him an impatient look. He paused. "Because I tasted that blade. I have never been defeated by anyone like you."

Slowly, Bakare removed the veil from his face, staring into her glacial eyes as they widened, drawing recognition. It was dark in the tomb that night, but Kythiopia remembered the wound she gave him. She tensed, turning towards him and backing up.

"I see." She wielded her glaive out in front of her, becoming alert and on guard. "Have you come for a second chance?" She raised her head, looking down on him. "I will not show you mercy."

The thief cocked his head to the side, once again at the point of her glaive. "I can see that." He hesitated once more, before stepping nearer to her. "In truth... you intrigue me."

Kythiopia looked surprised, but didn't waver, still expressing suspicion. In her mind, she was analyzing every counter to him if he should strike at her suddenly, able to kill him with ease if he wished to. However, she would humor him.

"Why should I intrigue you?"

"Many of the women I have encountered are frightened creatures, afraid to leave their homes at night. In comparison to you: bold, undaunted, completely unafraid, skulking in the darkness to greet unknown fears-"

"Do you believe I fear you?" The female cut him off, looking amused at the thought of it.

"Of course not." Bakare replied, a slow smirk crossing his face. "I believe I have perhaps found my equal."

"You could never equal me," she retorted, returning this smirk.

"We shall see," he nodded, undaunted. Without a final word, the guard passed him by. He watched after her, wrapped in his thoughts.