Chapter 2: Half of an Explanation

The stranger was very thin and wearing very tight, black, leather clothes. She brushed a lock of short, black hair back and pulled her hood back. Definitely a woman, they thought as they exchanged another glance. She unzipped her jacket and put her thumbs in her pants pockets. Under her faded leather coat she wore a simple, purple v-neck that was tucked into her tight, black, leather pants. She had long, shiny, black hair pulled back into a ponytail that went to her belt with short bangs that hung over one eye. Throughout her ponytail, small sections of her hair glimmered with a hint of snow-white.

The belt was probably the most interesting piece of her outfit; her necklace landed a close second. It was one of those tool belts with pockets, but the number of pockets seemed to be fluctuating. Every time one of them blinked, the number of pockets would increase or decrease, never staying the same. Her necklace didn't change like the belt did, but it did occasionally glow. It was a thick, white choker with a simple purple gem in the center. Every so often, the speed of the rain would quicken and her necklace would glow, then the rain would slow back down and the gem stopped glowing.

Just when they thought they had noticed everything strange about her outfit, they noticed that she was wearing a pair of purple, fingerless gloves. The gloves didn't do anything special, but it was fairly odd that she was wearing them in the first place. They didn't look like they served much use as actual gloves; after all, they were fingerless.

At this point, Bakura had gotten tired of the guessing games. He pushed his chair back and stood, clearing his throat. "Let's start simple. Who are you?"

"Name's Anna. Yours?"

"Something tells me that's not your real name."

"Well, it's actually Anaberu, which roughly translated from Japanese is Annabel, which I shortened into Anna. Got a problem with that," she paused and stared at his hair for a moment, "Bakura?"

"How do you know my name?"

"So, you really are Bakura?"


"I'll take that as a yes. That means," she glanced down at the terrified Egyptian, "you must be Marik Ishtar." He continued to stare. She sighed and said, "Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to respond?" He started to fidget with his pant leg and looked down at the ground with a puzzled look on his face.

Anna blinked and tilted her head ever so slightly trying to look into Marik's amethyst eyes. She smiled ever so slightly and walked over to him, holding her hand out. He looked up into her eyes and noticed they were the same color as his own. A color that was great for clearly displaying emotions. Marik took her hand before looking up at her but when he did, when he looked up into her deep, purple eyes, he froze.

When Bakura looked into her eyes for the first time, he saw the initial shock of finding people where she didn't expect to, then an underlying sadness that he couldn't quite place. But whenever Marik looked into those purple eyes that resembled his own so much, he saw pain and anger. The type of pain and anger that could never lead to anything good. The type of pain and anger that sought vengeance. The same pain and anger that he felt. The pain and anger that comes from being tortured by your own family.

Anna pulled him up and looked down at her faded, black shoes. Marik didn't bother to let go of her hand. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again and looked down at his own shoes. After a minute of silence, he finally uttered, "Mother or father?"

"Brother, actually," she said, dropping the facade covering her now clearly British accent.

"I'm so sorry," he said, ever so slightly glancing at Bakura, who was staring at Anna with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Don't be. It's over now."

"It's never over." Her head snapped up and the two looked at each other with a sense of understanding, and Anna smiled the first full smile she had in a long time.

A single tear slid down Anna's cheek and lingered before falling onto the floor between their feet. She gaze lingered there as she said, "I'm sorry, too." Marik squeezed her hand comfortingly. They looked at each other one last time before releasing each others' hands. Bakura crossed his arms and started tapping his foot, causing both Anna and Marik to jump.

"Well, this cryptic nonsense is all well and good, but that still doesn't explain how you know our names."

"Everyone in the entire town knows your name. Everyone knows me, too, so you don't have to worry about that." She reached into one of the front pockets of her belt and pulled out a piece of folded paper. She started to reach her hand out to Bakura so that he could take the paper, but then yanked it back and looked at the floor. Marik glanced over at her, then stared at Bakura with a suspicious look. Marik held out his hand, and Anna handed him the piece of paper, still staring at the floor.

Marik unfolded the piece of paper, all the while staring at Bakura. Bakura shrugged and continued tapping his foot. Marik continued staring for a minute, then looked down at the piece of paper. "We may have a slight problem, Bakura."

"What now?" Marik held up the piece of paper. On it, there were pictures of all three of them.

"Wanted dead or alive. Top three in the state."