Yes, I'm putting up a new fanfic. Please see details in the following journal entry at DeviantArt to understand (add "http:" and two slashes and take out spaces): skylado ragono.devia ntart.c om/jou rnal/3996 097/

Desert Rose

I Dream of Rain
I Dream of Gardens in the Desert Sand
I Wake in Pain
I Dream of Love as Time Runs Through my Hand


As a spirit of the Thousand Year Puzzle and a guardian for a living human, Atemu never really had what could be called "dreams." After all, he did not even need to sleep as he was, since he was only a soul of a being whose body had long ago disappeared in the sands of Egypt. However… as of late, since he had held up the three God Cards to the Tablet of Memory, he had been… Well, "dreaming" was not an accurate word, as he really did not sleep. "Seeing" was a bit more accurate, as he would often be drifting aimlessly in the deep recesses of the Puzzle when these visions would come to his consciousness.

Yet… even knowing that he was not dreaming, it was still hard to determine if what he saw were "dreams" or "visions." He saw… he dreamed… of nights of daring and of great peril, of wondrous adventure… of nights of passion so heated it could rival the heat of the day… and therein lay the problem.

Atemu's visions were of his past.

Yet, they could not be his past. What he saw in his dreams was far from the truth he had seen in the Memory RPG he had played against the dark soul of the God of Evil and won. Even still… though most of the dreams or visions or whatever they may be were faded or unfocused, he could tell that it was through his own eyes he saw the events that unfolded, and… it frightened him. What was it that was influencing his memory like this? Was it something external, or something deeply rooted within the Puzzle… or perhaps even within his very soul…?

It was these visions and the questions that accompanied them that found the former pharaoh standing in Domino City Museum, staring up at the tablet that had guarded his memories for centuries. The human whose body he shared, a Japanese boy named Yugi Mutou, had retreated within the room of his soul, allowing Atemu the privacy he needed as he sought answers that did not want to be found.

Unfortunately, the roped off museum room was not as private as he had hoped.

"I thought I'd find you here, Your Highness."

Atemu spun around, alarmed by the familiar voice. There was no denying who was walking down the steps into the room; the white hair, the narrow brown eyes, the bell-like tinkling coming from the Ring around his neck…

"Bakura… no, Zork!"

The boy gave him a disdainful look. "You were right the first time."

Atemu blinked, taking an unconscious step back as the spirit that claimed to be Bakura stepped closer. He raised an eyebrow at this, looking almost… hurt? The pharaoh frowned at that; before… well, the God of Evil was obviously incapable of an emotion such as pain. He eased up a bit, but the distrust in his expression was still there.

"Why are you here?" he demanded.

"Why are you here?" Bakura countered with his own question. "Could it be… you're questioning the so-called truth?" He smirked then. "Have any weird dreams lately?"

Atemu's eyes widened slightly, before they narrowed. "If you're the one responsible—!"

"No, Pharaoh," Bakura said, cutting the threat off. He walked up to him briskly, before poking him hard in the chest. "The only one responsible is you."

Atemu swallowed, backing away from the far from comfortable close contact. Bakura continued however, before he could demand what he meant by the accusation.

"You're questioning what you saw, aren't you? Think it's not the truth… or the entire truth? Well, you're right, it's not. Oh, there were some things you saw in the Memory RPG that really happened, but the rest of it? Feh… you can blame your damn priests for that. They wanted to make sure you thought you were a good little boy, so you'd defeat Zork Necrophadisu and then go off and peacefully join them in Duat. Well, I've got them to thank for the first part, but I don't think they counted on me being around to prevent the second."

Atemu stared, caught completely off guard by everything Bakura had just said. His priests tried to alter his memory so he could pass on peacefully…? He shook his head, giving Bakura a hard look.

"Why should I trust you?" he demanded. "Everything you've done up to this point has been for your own purposes. Why should I—?"

The pharaoh was cut off as Bakura suddenly stepped forward, throwing his arms around him and holding him close. Atemu stood stock still in his embrace, too shocked to move… and… yet… The feeling… warm, strong arms around him… it felt… familiar…

Regaining his senses, Atemu pulled away, giving him a hard look. Bakura surprised him again, however, returning his expression was a gentle, almost desperate to be understood smile. He offered his hand to Atemu.

"Atemu…," he began. "You should trust me… because you did in the past…"

Atemu stared at him like he had grown another head, before turning his disbelieving gaze down to the hand that was reaching out for him. He… he had trusted Bakura in the past? This was the man who had dragged his father's body through the desert tied to a horse! Or… or did he…? His confusion made his head hurt; made him feel like the room was spinning around the hand that was still patiently outstretched for him…

"How… how do I know this isn't a trick?" he said finally, his tone less harsh.

Bakura smirked again. "Atemu, even possessed by the God of Evil… I have never lied once."

Atemu bit his lip. That was… very true… He swallowed slightly, before reaching out to take Bakura's hand…

Puzzle and Ring activated as soon as their hands touched, bathing the room in a brilliant glow as the past was brought to light once more…