I finally got off mah lazy ass and updated XDXDXD So...yeah. Read, review, don't own, etc. c:


Kindness in giving creates love

-Lao Tzu

A journey from one end of the room to the other left Bakura so exhausted that it took all the effort in his body to remain upright.

"You shouldn't exert yourself like that just yet," Hasina scolded, rushing over to support him. "It's still early- please lie back down."

Bakura jolted, as though her gentle hands were acid against his skin. The second time she approached, however, he let her lay him back down on the makeshift bed of cushions in the corner.

"Rest now- I'll take care of you until you're strong again."

A part of Bakura resented that. He didn't want to wait to be strong- he needed strength now.

He was so tired, though…so weak…all he wanted to do right now was lay there.

"You're fever has gone down a lot since yesterday," Hasina said. "That's good. You're healing well."

Bakura watched Hasina carefully. The world seemed flat with only one eye, lacking the perspective he was so used to. He hoped his wound healed quickly, so the bandages could come off. (He also hoped he wouldn't get a lazy eye because of them.)

Hasina's hands were sure and steady as she mending some piece of clothing or another. She wasted no effort in her well-practiced movements.

Bakura could tell that she had once been beautiful. But her skin was worn and wrinkled now, gray streaks shooting through her pitch-black hair. A flower that had begun to wilt. (Still, if you asked him, Bakura would have insisted that she was beautiful still.)

This was the woman who had saved Bakura's life. But why? How…?


She looked up from her work.

"Why…why did you save me?"

"Because you are just a child, and I didn't want you to die out there by yourself. Nobody deserves to die alone."

"I'm ten years old," Bakura pouted. "I'm not a child anymore."

(And he was right, at least in his own mind. He was old enough to be married, after all.)

Hasina smiled.

"Of course," she said, obviously amused. Bakura decided to ignore it.

"How did you find me?" He asked. He had to know. "I was outside the city when I passed out."

"Asim and I were doing some trade in another city- he's managed to get his hands on some cloth from Phoenician merchants. Nobody here wanted it, but we didn't need it, so we went to visit one of his friends in the royal city. He wanted it, and we found you on the way back."

"Something tells me your husband isn't too fond of me."

"Asim isn't a bad man," Hasina said. "He has a good heart. He just hates showing it. He says it makes him look weak." And she laughed at the sheer absurdity of the thought.

This woman, a stranger, had shown him pity, taken him in when nobody else wanted him. When any other person would have left him to die, she took him and nursed him back from the brink of death. She saved him. Shesaved him. She had shown him a kindness that few people seemed to know, simply from the goodness of her heart.



"...Is it alright if I call you mother?"

Hasina beamed at the child, warmth in her tired, aging eyes.

"Of course you can. Call me whatever you like."

Bakura smiled, just a little bit.