Okay, I swore I'd never write chapterfic again. Of course, I lied.

Title: All Hail The King
Chapter: 01/??
Author: Nina/TechnicolorNina
Pairing/Characters: Currently Yuugicentric with no pairings.
Word Count: 1 165
Story Rating: This fic is rated M for sexual situations, language, and violence. Should it become necessary to edit due to "no NC-17" policy, full versions will be available on my LiveJournal.
Chapter Rating: In order to keep younger readers from being disappointed when this gets into higher-rated stuff, the whole story will be rated M on this site. This chapter, however, classifies more or less as K .
Genre: General
Story Summary: When Yuugi's class gets to study a new panel from a pharaoh's tomb, Yuugi walks straight into trouble. Can he stay alive? And can he find his way home?
Chapter Summary: Yuugi translates an ancient Egyptian curse.
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Also, the positively lovely curse contained in this chapter was written by olesia.love (Sight the King, Victory). If you want to use it, contact her.
Spoilers: For end of series.
Warnings: None.
Feedback: There may be something out there that's better than a review containing concrit, but if there is, I haven't found it yet. So if you have two minutes and you wouldn't mind? Please? Arigatou. (And concrit is cool. Flames are not.)
Notes: I would just like to point out that in both Yuugi's country of origin and in my home state, Yuugi is above the statutory age of consent. If you have a problem with two seventeen-year-olds getting it on, you're in the wrong fic.
Special Thanks/Dedications: For olesia.love, who provided me with many of the links I'm using for research and reference, and who has put up with my incessant pestering about many, many ridiculous minutiae. Thanks!

"So, let's put the week in review. Who can tell me what's happened this week? Nosaka-san?"

Miho lowered her hand. "Even though it's a member of the European Union, Sweden voted to not use the euro."

Ms. Miyamoto smiled and nodded. "That's right. There's a lot of debate on how the global economy will be affected." She pointed to Bakura.


"The inventor of the hydrogen bomb died."

There was an uneasy silence. Then Ms. Miyamoto nodded.

"Yes. Yes, he did." She pointed briskly, not elaborating. "Tanaka-san."

"The Canadian government passed a motion that lets them put a law on the table to approve same-sex marriage."

Ms. Miyamoto's brow furrowed, but she didn't comment. Yuugi rolled his eyes. Really, some people were just -

"Mutou-san. You have something to say?"

Yuugi jumped. "Um - Nintendo decided they're not making the Super Famicom anymore."

Several of the girls in the class tittered. Yuugi felt his cheeks flush, but held his ground. Ms. Miyamoto paused, then nodded.

"And this is important because . . . ?"

"It's the most popular 2-D video-game platform," Yuugi said. He could feel the blush creeping up his neck as he spoke. "If they're not making the Famicom anymore, that means they're only going to be releasing 3-D games."

Ms. Miyamoto continued to look perplexed, but nodded all the same.

"An - excellent example of how far technology has come, Mutou-san. Thank you."

Yuugi slumped down in his seat as the talk continued. A prime minister's visit to India - something about American politics - other things he didn't catch. Anzu squeezed his hand.

"And as some of you may be aware - " Yuugi was uncomfortably conscious of a glance being sent in his direction - "a discovery was made in the tomb that collapsed in the Valley of the Kings last year."

Yuugi raised his hand.

"Yes, Mutou-san?"

"But - if it collapsed," he protested, feeling his stomach do a slow turn, "then how did they find anything in it?"

Ms. Miyamoto looked impatient. "They dug it back out, Mutou-san. As any respectable project would. As I was saying, a new text was discovered in the tomb. Archaeologists are trying to decipher it." She passed out badly-copied sheets. Yuugi took a glance at his. He could make out a few of the hieroglyphs, but didn't know enough to string them together without stopping to think about it. The end-of-day bell rang, and Yuugi shoved the paper into his backpack. He could worry about it later.

Yuugi sat at his desk and ran one finger over the carvings on the golden box in front of him. He read the glyphs over, then stared down at the sheet between his elbows. The entire last verse was completely blurred out; Yuugi couldn't make out a word of it. He worked slowly, painstakingly. The sheet had been poorly photocopied to begin with, and the way he'd carelessly crammed it into his binder hadn't helped.

There was a knock at the door.

"It's open."

Jii-chan came into the room, a cup of cocoa in hand. He set it down on Yuugi's desk, looked at the sheet in front of his grandson, and chuckled.

"I see you've heard."

Yuugi nodded. "I want to see if I can figure it out before they do."

Jii-chan chuckled again. "Someday you're going to end up being an archaeologist yourself, Yuugi." He put a hand on Yuugi's shoulder. "Don't strain your eyes."

"I've got my lamp on."

"They're doing a special on television about a panel they found in the tomb – another image of the pharaoh that they've never seen before. You should come watch with me," Jii-chan coaxed. Yuugi shook his head and pushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"I really need to get some homework done. Sorry."

Jii-chan sighed as he left. "If you change your mind . . . "

Yuugi didn't acknowledge the statement. He didn't want to be reminded, not right now.

Twenty minutes more found him with two sheets in front of him. On one, the original hieroglyphs; on the other he wrote his translation.

"O, Thief, who trespasses against the realm of Pharaoh, embodiment of the King-God Horus, son of Osiris," Yuugi wrote. So far, so good. "O, Thief, who places unclean hands upon the relics of Pharaoh, no time . . . "

Yuugi paused, irritated, and reached for the laptop Jii-chan had gotten him for schoolwork. He moved the gold box off it absently, setting it on his desk. He opened the laptop, closed his Morrowind file – after a year he had yet to beat all the sidequests – and logged onto the Internet.

For once Google failed him; he couldn't find a single copy of the hieroglyphs' full text, even when he opened a conversion window and used Roman characters. He sighed and turned back to the page on his desk.

"Okay, fine. 'No time', a bunch of blanks, 'shall be yours.' Next verse." Irritation overtook him again, but he pushed it down. Sooner or later he'd find a clear copy of the glyphs, and then he could fill in the blanks. "Your companions will recall not your name; all those familiar to you will know not your face; your family will come not to your aid."

The final line was blurred beyond all comprehension.

Yuugi slammed his hand on the desk in frustration. "Well, that's great. Just great," he said, feeling not at all awkward about talking aloud to himself. "So it's a curse about Pharaoh and time and being alone." He folded the page, opened the gold box, and put the paper in it to worry about later. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out his calculus book.

Ten minutes convinced him he'd have to finish his maths in the morning; his brain was working too hard on other things for him to concentrate on how mass transit and crime would affect population growth. He slammed the book shut and let his head fall forward, heels of his hands pressing into his eyes. The dark was pleasant to his aching mind. Soon his head fell a little further forward, and his body slid in the chair.

See this boy - see him very well. He sits asleep at a pressed-wood desk, surrounded by a curious mixture of games and history books. Still in his school uniform, he looks both ten and a thousand years old with his hands pressed to his face, blonde fringe falling over his fingers. In front of him is a gold box, covered in the writing of a dead language. Inside is a paper covered in the careful writing of a studious schoolboy with a normally messy hand. The entire scene is illuminated only by a desk lamp, which casts an even, harsh circle of light over desk, boy, and box.

See this, and mark it well, because inside this scene is destiny. And destiny is not always a straight road.