Home

Chapter 10

       Yugi dropped onto his couch shuffling absently through his mail.  Tea had been acting strangely lately.  They had been spending much more time alone together since five of their friends, including his roommate/best friend and business partner, and his boss, were half way around the world.  It was very easy for him to tell that something was wrong.  She talked to him a lot, and was generally very open, but every once in a while she would get this odd look and get quiet.  He had the strangest feeling that she was hiding something from him.

       He didn’t like that feeling.

       At first he had thought it was just the fact that their friends were gone.  Not one had thought to say good bye to her.  Since her friendships were so central to her life that had to be hard.  But she should understand.  They had been a little worked up when they left.  Yugi suspected he wouldn’t have known if he didn’t live with Yami.

       Now though he didn’t know what to think.  She had told him that there was a guy, but who was he?  She was being deliberately evasive.  <Don’t be silly.> He told himself.  After all, Tea was one of his best friends.  She wouldn’t lie to him.  <But she didn’t technically lie…>

       Several letters caught his eye.  They were from Egypt.  He set aside the one from Yami knowing that it would be somewhat long and detailed, though Yami had had some trouble explaining how he felt about this whole ordeal.  Yugi knew it was very personal and confusing for him.  And the ancient pharaoh was not at all comfortable with that kind of vulnerability.  He had been raised to rule a nation after all. 

       The letter from Marik would be short and filled with humorous stories and a dash of excitement, and possibly a little concern depending on the current state of Yami and Bakurai at the time.  The letter from the Bakura’s would be a confusing back and forth with Bakura making general and very kind statements and Bakurai adding rude remarks.  Yugi guessed the truth was likely somewhere in the middle.

       He set these aside as well and turned to Seto’s letter.  He never quite knew what to expect from the man.  His letters could be crisp and businesslike, filled with information, but with no real depth.  Or they could be casual and friendly.  He didn’t mention Tea however.  And Tea had mentioned that he hadn’t responded to any of her letters.  Yugi found that odd.  He also found it curious that Seto hadn’t said goodbye to her.  She had been the last person to find out about the trip.

       It just didn’t make sense.  Kaiba wasn’t the type of man who hid from his feelings.  Steeled them away, sure, he occasionally fell back into that habit.  But once he admitted he loved Tea that should have been that.  Kaiba was the sort of man who went after what he wanted.  Yet Kaiba had left without a word to her.  She was more hurt than she let on, that he was sure of.  And he had his suspicions about her mystery man, but he wasn’t going to push either of them.

       Yet.

       It was hard not to though.  They would be good for each other.  Kaiba had changed a lot, but there was still a wariness about him – except when he was with Tea.  He was still a business man at heart and it took some doing to get him away from the office, even though he tried.  Tea’s fun-loving, easy going personality might loosen Kaiba up.  As for Tea… she needed someone she could rely on.  She needed a relationship where she wouldn’t always have to be the strong one.  She had been so self-reliant all her life.  She was the one who encouraged others, who fought for them. 

       She had probably never thought about it, but Yugi suspected that had been the primary basis of her crush on Yami – he was someone who stood up for her, someone she could lean on.  Kaiba would certainly be that.  Even when he had been angry and cold he had never let those he loved down.

       Yes, they’d do each other a world of good.  If they ever got it together.

       They were as bad as Joey and Mai.

       Well… maybe not.

       Still.  It drove him crazy sometimes.  He chuckled at his own foolishness.  <Like I’m the one who should be giving relational advice>  he remembered saying something similar to Kaiba once.  <Let’s face it.  I’m member one of the bachelor club> That didn’t really bother him at this point in his life, but it was a reality.  He stared down at the still unopened letter in his hand and then shook his head.  Slitting the top he pulled out the letter.  It was brief, and it didn’t really say much, but Yugi could tell Kaiba wasn’t very happy right now.  It was the style of the letter, he decided.   It just wasn’t the same.  The sentences were too short.  He wondered if it was concern for the others, something at the dig site, or something more personal that was bothering him.  He considered calling Mokuba, but decided against it.  It really wasn’t any of his business. 

       He slid the letter back into the envelope and laid it on the table reaching for Marik’s letter.  If the problem were something at the site, or something with Yami and Bakurai, Marik’s letter would tell him.

***

       Kaiba entered his tent with a hand full of letters. He had been in town today and had missed mail call, but he had picked up his letters on his way back. He tossed two letters into the trash can as he walked by. 

       Cynthia Hagarthy.

       He really needed to make time to deal with this problem.  But rejecting someone was so hard.  Especially when the someone was a wealthy, spoiled, stuck up, socialite.  He had tried all the polite, distant, emotionless ways of dealing with her.  He didn’t want to hurt her.  Though, at this point, he doubted she had any real feelings for him.  She didn’t even know him.  However, he hated to wound her pride as he might have to deal with her in some other context someday.  He was out of options now.  When he returned to Domino he would call her and set things straight.

       Somehow it just didn’t seem right to tell her by letter while he sat safely half a world away.

       <Not that she cares how I feel> he thought with irritation.  He picked the letter back up out of the trash can and ripped it up.  That made him feel a little better.

       Glancing at his desk he decided to skip out on paperwork and visit the tunnels.  Bakura would probably be there, but at least it would get his mind off Cynthia Hagarthy.

       Seto walked briskly through the camp throwing brief waves at the workmen as he walked by.  When he reached the entrance to the underground tunnels the guard looked up, startled.

       “Mr. Kaiba.” He straightened quickly and Kaiba could hear the shock in his voice.  He chuckled quietly.  It really wasn’t surprising.  In the last six weeks he had only been in the tunnels twice.  And both times had been at the specific request of Yami.

       “Relax, Prethus.” He said in amusement.  Then he grabbed up a dust mask, slipping it on as he stepped inside.

       He paused a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light in the tunnels, then he headed down, allowing the sound of voices to lead him to the dig site.

       There were eight or so men inside the tunnel.  Yami and Marik were standing back watching anxiously as Bakura and Bakurai instructed the team removing the debris.

       “Careful, it looks as though that section might be unstable.” Bakura said steadily.

       “The whole **** thing is unstable.” Bakurai muttered darkly under his breath; Bakura pretended not to hear him.

       “Let me see that piece.” Bakura held out a hand and the worker carefully passed a piece of the debris to him.  It was about three times the size of a man’s fist and Bakura turned it over several times, carefully studying it.  “What do you think?”

       He held it out to Bakurai, who took it and repeated the actions.  “Possibly.” He remarked.

       Yami rubbed his fingers together, the only evidence of his agitation, but refrained from asking questions.

       Bakura nodded and turned to look at Yami and Marik.

       “I think we’re very close to something.” He said.  He was enthusiastic, but cautious.  Kaiba knew that feeling all too well.

       “The chamber?” Yami asked tightly.  His eyes were focused on the rubble behind Bakura.

       Bakura shrugged, “It could be.  I suspect that is the case.  However,” he paused, waiting until both men had their full attention on him. “I have often seen such leads fail to pan out.  Ancient cultures were notorious for dead ends and decoys.  It is possible there is nothing here at all and this has all been for not.  If that is the case I’ve no idea what to do next.” He said sadly.

       “It’s here.” Marik stated firmly.

       “What is?” Kaiba asked, stepping out of the shadows.

       “Kaiba.” Bakura was a bit surprised, but Yami did not seem the least bit fazed.  He turned and acknowledged Kaiba with a look.

       “I don’t know, but it is here.” Marik said with certainty.  Kaiba didn’t question him.  He had long ago learned that some things could not be viewed logically.

       “I’m glad you came.” Yami said quietly.  And they all knew he was talking to Kaiba. “You appear to be just in time.”

       Kaiba nodded, “I needed to be here right now.  I’m not sure why.”

       Marik turned now to look at him, “You sense something, as we do.” He said solemnly.  “You need to be here to see-” he broke off as a low commotion rose from the rubble.

       “Bakura!  Come here.” Bakurai’s sharp call drew their attention.  A large section of rubble had been cleared away, revealing what appeared to be solid wall behind.

       Bakura stepped over quickly.  “Get it cleared.” He ordered.  “I want to see the markings.”

       As quickly as they could the native workmen removed the last of the debris.  What was revealed was a door.  All around it and on it were colorful hieroglyphs.  Gently shooing the others away Bakura studied it closely, running his fingers over the marks without actually touching them.

       He tensed, then spoke with excitement.  “Bakurai!” he called, and his partner, who had stepped back a moment before, approached, “Here.” He pointed.  “Does it say what I believe it does?”

       Bakurai bent close, squinting to examine the markings Bakura was referring to.  Their eyes met and he nodded slowly.  Smiling, Bakura turned toward Yami.

       “This is it.” He said eagerly.  “This is no façade, no decoy, and certainly no trap.  The image of Ra is only placed on the most sacred of sanctuaries, the tombs and treasuries of kings.”

       Yami and Marik approached now, with Seto close behind.

       “It’s nearly untouched.” Marik said in awe.

       “Yes,” Bakura nodded, “Remarkable is it not?”  He looked at it a moment more, mouthing something as he followed the hieroglyphs, then turned to his partner, “Bakurai?”

       “Here and here.” Bakurai indicated two symbols along the door frame and Bakura studied them a moment also before nodding.

       “Alright.”

       Stepping forward Bakurai pressed the symbols and then twisted another.  He muttered a few words in what could only have been ancient Egyptian and then pressed on the door.  Slowly it swung open.

       With quiet reverence the five men entered the chamber.  Whether out of respect, or fear, the natives remained outside.  Either way Yami was grateful.

       It was a decent sized chamber.  Seto judged it to be about fourteen by fourteen feet.  The walls were made of sand based bricks, like the walls of the pyramids, and the floor was smooth.

       Against one wall were shelves and on each shelf several items, mostly gold.  Bakura and Bakurai went to study these. 

       “These definitely belonged to a pharaoh.” Bakura told them.  “But this is not a tomb.  I would guess it is some sort of store house.”

       “A sacred storehouse?” Kaiba said skeptically.

       “The Pharaoh was god on earth,” Bakura reminded him, “Anything he touched was considered sacred.

       “Are you sure?” Yami asked, “It… doesn’t feel right.”

       “I agree.” Bakurai rasped, “There’s something more here.  I just can’t remember what.”

       “Guys?” Marik’s voice startled them, for he had been so quiet they had nearly forgotten his presence.  In truth, he had not been paying attention to them at all.  His attention had been caught by something else.  Now they turned toward him to find him staring at the wall, his right hand hovering near it, palm flat.

       “Notice something odd about this room?” he asked, not even turning to face them.

       The others looked around confused, and then Bakura’s eyes widened.  “There are no markings.” He said quietly.

       The others realized it was true.  Every room in this series of earthen chambers was covered with hieroglyphs, paintings, and carvings, but this room had none.  Not a single symbol.  Not a single brush mark or even a scratch.  The only thing that broke the monotony on the walls were the shelves and a single column rising to waist height in the center of the chamber.

       It was here their attention came to rest.

       “A podium?” Kaiba asked.

       “But why?” Yami stepped closer to it.

       “Good question.” Bakura moved over toward it, peering at the blank sides and then at the flat top surface.  “What’s this?”

       Bakurai swiftly moved toward them, running his fingers over the surface.  He lifted his dust mask and blew lightly on the podium. A layer of fine dust rose into the air.  Leaning to look more closely at it Bakurai pulled out a brush and ran it across the stand.  He blew once more and then looked up at Bakura meaningfully.

       “What is it?” Marik asked, leaning over their shoulders to look.

       Bakura looked up at Yami.  “An imprint.” Yami’s brow furrowed for he failed to see the significance of that fact.  Bakura held his gaze, “Of the crown.”

***

       Tea had almost turned back about twenty times now.  <Why do they have such a huge driveway> she thought darkly.  If it had been shorter she wouldn’t have had time to think about it.  <Or I could have just driven> she reminded herself.

       She was currently standing on the porch of the Kaiba mansion.  <Some porch.  I’ve seen parking lots smaller than this> and she was supposed to knock on the door so that some fancy butler could open it, ask who she was, and inform Mokuba that she had finally arrived.  ‘Finally’ because she was half an hour late for their appointment.

       She stared at the door, hands limp at her sides, mind absolutely blank.  What was she doing here?  Sure, Mokuba was a great kid, well – young man, but she just felt weird being here.  She was beginning to think she should have insisted they meet at the mall or something.  It felt wrong to be here without Seto.

       “Get a grip.” She muttered, “It’s just a house.” She paused, “A huge, enormous, gigantic, very imposing house…” shaking her head she raised a hand and firmly knocked on the door.

       In a few moments she heard a slow, steady *thump, thump*.  The unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps.  Then there was a muffled shout, as though from a distance, the sound of running, and a shouted “sorry!”  Then the door was yanked open and an out of breath Mokuba was smiling at her.

       “Tea!” he grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.  “You’re late.” He didn’t seem upset by this fact.

       “Sorry about that.” Tea pulled her arm free and tried to pull the wrinkles out of her sleeve.  As she did so her gaze fell on the poor butler.  He was an older, distinguished looking man, dressed in a fine black suit with a long tailed coat.  He was obviously a stiff, reserved, man of propriety.  And he was currently sprawled on the floor of the Kaibas' spacious entry.  Following her gaze Mokuba’s face flushed.  He hurried over, offering the man a hand.

       “Erm… sorry about that Jeffrey.” he rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at the butler’s feet like a child berated by his teacher.

       The butler straightened his tie, tugged down his suit coat, and bowed formally.

       “Quite alright, sir.” He turned and walked away.  As he did Tea noticed that he was favoring his right leg slightly.  The poor man.

       As he walked past the staircase she noticed that the rug was slightly askew.   Remembering what she had heard, an image of what must have happened formed in her mind.  She stifled a giggle, struggling to look sympathetic as Mokuba was clearly embarrassed.  She could practically see the stately butler heading for the door.  Mokuba barreling down the stairs in excitement yelling, “I’ll get it!”  Sliding on the rug he regained his balance and darted passed the confused butler, bumping him as he passed by.  He had hardly noticed the contact which explained the tossed “sorry” before he had opened the door.  He was still very much a child at heart.

       “Um… we can eat in the small parlor; it’s more comfortable than either of the dining rooms.”  Tea nodded her agreement and followed him into a side room. It was probably as big as her bedroom, but it was likely small by the Kaibas' standards.  And it was certainly tastefully furnished and decorated in creams and golds.  She would have hated to keep it cleaned, but then, the Kaibas had a staff for that.

       Their lunch was already laid out and the sheer quantity made her gasp.

       “Expecting Joey?” she teased, tilting her head inquisitively, “or perhaps a small army?”

       Mokuba laughed, “Nope, just you.” He looked at the food, “Maria does tend to get a little carried away though, doesn’t she?”

       “Just a little.” Tea held up her right hand, thumb and forefinger close together, to emphasize her point.

       He laughed again. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

       She did so, carefully crossing her legs and smoothing her skirt.

       “So,” he asked once she was settled, “How are things going at the Center?” he served her as he spoke.

       She smiled, her eyes glowing with excitement as she spoke, “It’s going very well.  The children are really coming along.”

       He nodded, “That’s good.  Macaroni salad?”

       She shook her head, “No thanks.  Anyway, the performance is less than a month away.  At first I thought we’d never be ready, but I think we really are…  That’s good.  Thanks.”

       Mokuba handed her the plate and then served himself.  She waited until he had taken a seat across from her before she took a bite of green salad.

       “This is wonderful.” She remarked.

       “Thanks.  I’ll be sure to tell Maria.” He took a bite of a sandwich and then steered the conversation back to its previous course.

       “How many pieces will they be performing?” he inquired politely.

       She worried her lower lip a moment before answering.  “I think seven or eight.  I’m still deciding on the last piece.  But I know it’ll be about an hour and a half or so.”

       “Will you be performing?”

       She shrugged, “I wasn’t planning to, but the kids have been pressuring me, so maybe…” she grinned, “It’d make Bakura happy,” then her grin faded, and she looked down at her plate, “if they’re back that is.”

       He agreed, his own mood darkening some at the reminder of their friends’ absence, “They’ve been gone a long time now.  But I hear archeology requires a lot of patience.  I’m sure Seto’ll do all her can to be back for the performance though.  I mean, he used to go watch the kids practice all the time.”

       Mokuba had his own suspicions as to why his brother did this. And, though he had no way to know it, they were fairly close to the mark.  He watched Tea as he spoke.

       Her face fell at his words so he stopped, studying her more closely. He leaned forward some.

       “He still hasn’t written you, huh?” he asked quietly.

       Tea shook her head, “He’s probably very busy and all.  But… I thought he would at least send the children a greeting.  They miss him.”  She smiled with forced cheer, “It’s alright.  And perfectly understandable.”

       “No it isn’t.” Mokuba grumbled, so low she couldn’t quite hear him.  “It’s stupid.”

       “What was that?”

       “Uh,” he ducked his head away, “Nothing.” He said hastily.

       She arched a brow suspiciously and he decided to change the subject.  But he made a mental note to speak with his big brother about this later.  If nothing else, he shouldn’t neglect a friend like this.  And especially not Tea.  <It just makes no sense…>  

***

       “Everyone stand clear!”

       A translator repeated this in Egyptian.

       Just outside the small archeology camp in the Egyptian desert a helicopter hovered, ready to land.  The force from the blades whipped the air around those on the ground, driving the sand up, forcing them to raise their arms to protect their eyes.  Marik’s blond hair blew across his face and he saw that Bakura and Bakurai were having trouble as well.  Only Yami’s hair remained relatively unaffected, only the blond bangs moving.

       <How much gel does the man use?> Marik wondered.

       The wind died as the helicopter touched the ground and the pilot cut the power.  Generally the chopper would have left immediately, but he had special instructions and they were paying him by the hour anyway so he was happy to wait.  A veiled figure stepped from the chopper, a locked metal case handcuffed to her arm.

       “Ishizu?” Marik blinked in surprise.  “What are you doing here?”

       “I am needed.” She said calmly, and no one dared argue.  Even without the millennium necklace Ishizu had a way of knowing things.  Another familiar figure emerged from the craft behind her.  Marik’s eyes widened in surprise.

       “Odion!”  he almost ran to hug the older man, but thought better of it.  

       Odion bowed respectfully, “Master Marik. I am here to see to your sister’s safety.” He said solemnly.

       “Thank you Odion.”

       “Shall we go to the chamber?” Ishizu inquired.  Yami nodded and Bakura led the way.

       Walking through the long corridors Seto watched Ishizu.  She had an odd look on her face, as one recalling a distant memory.  He wasn’t entirely certain it was a pleasant experience for her.

       “You alright?” he asked quietly.

       She looked at him, faintly startled, “Oh… yes.  Yes Kaiba, of course.  I’m just curious to see what we shall discover.”

       Seto nodded, but he wasn’t sure.  Hadn’t she said something about this area being forbidden?  Sacred?  Bakura had said that too.  Was she afraid because of how her parents had behaved?  Or did she sense something?

       As they approached the chamber the natives turned away, headed back up to the camp.  Ishizu’s steps quickened and she stepped inside, turning to see everything.

       “Remarkable.” She whispered, moving toward the raised podium in the center.  Kneeling, she removed a key from her bodice and  unlocked the hand cuffs.  Handing them to Odion she laid the case on the ground.  Quickly she input the code.  A small beep indicated that it had been accepted and she raised the lid.  Inside was the crown.

       Seto had not anticipated the magnitude of his own reaction to seeing it again.  He felt the breath go out of him as though he had been punched in the gut.  And he knew it was worse for Yami and Bakurai.

       Carefully Ishizu lifted it out and turned toward Yami.

       “I believe you should be the one to place the artifact, my Pharaoh.”

       Drawing in an uneven breath Yami stepped forward, removing the crown from her hands and turning to the podium.  Slowly he lowered it placing it into the imprint.

       The symbol on the crown began to glow.  The light was so intense Seto wanted to shield his eyes with his arm, but he couldn’t move.  That was when he noticed that Yami’s forehead was glowing as well.  The symbol of the items emblazoned upon it.  Soon Bakurai was glowing as well, and with a start he realized that he was as well.  Then everything went dark and he knew nothing more.