Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Paradise Kingdom ❯ Phantasm ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Author's notes:

Disclaimer: Zoo-chan does not own Yu-gi-oh!

WARNING: As you can see, this is a R-rated fic. This means several things, namely
swearing, rape, and mild yaoi. Oh, and a boring, slightly-fluffy plot line to
discourage younger audiences XD.

This two-part story takes place in Ancient Egypt, and I apologize ahead of time for
making 'High Priest' Seto the antagonist, but no story is complete without one!

And a domo arigatou to Petite-Hikari-san for taking the time to beta this ^-^!

***************************************
"My name is Ozymanias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!…"
- "Ozymandias", Percy Bysshe Shelley
************************************

Paradise Kingdom



Part 1 - Phantasm

The door opened with a loud bang. He stood there enveloped by a thick hooded cloak,
a solitary figure looming in the doorway. The figure half-closed the wooden door
behind him before pulling off his hood, revealing a handsome face trimmed with
brown hair.

"Hey! It's Priest Seto!"

A several pairs of eyes looked up from their mugs at the newly arrived figure. There
was a thunderous chorus of greetings before the noise level dropped back to a
murmur.

Priest Seto's eyes flicked from one person to the next, sapphire orbs flashing in
disdain. A sneer danced on the High Priest's lips but he maintained a calm, friendly
façade.

At last, one of the men stood up from his dirty wooden table, wiping the last drops of
fermented wine from his stubby whiskers. He stumbled drunkenly, staggering and
pushing several chairs from his path before facing the High Priest's taller figure.

"What brings you here, oh Honourable Priest?" The foul-looking man gave a sudden
belch, though his eyes glittered shrewdly from under the shadows of his brows. "Are
you looking for some service from us humble folks?"

"Well, as you know, the new Pharaoh and I are not on good terms." Several audible
sniggers followed Priest's Seto's comment. The High Priest glared at the auspicious
voices before continuing. "I was hoping that you could…be of some assistance. I
need you to spread some gossip and rebellion among your people. Something that will
make the citizens doubt the Pharaoh's competence."

"I see." The man being addressed smiled coyly. "So that the citizens will fall in
favour with you and allow you to extract some revenge on the Pharaoh? Am I not
correct in thinking so?"

Priest Seto said nothing, though his false smile gave the truth away. "Think what you
want to, Khaske, but just make sure you carry things out. I want the Pharaoh to suffer,
to feel the wrath of his position like a mosquito drinking from dried carrion."

The other snickered, rubbing his round stomach. "Oh, don't worry, we'll keep our end
of the bargain." He stopped, cocking his head to one side. "That is, if you keep
yours."

The priest cast a diffident expression, delving a hand within the folds of his thick
cloak to extract a bulky bag. He unwrapped the corded rope fastening the bag to
reveal thick disks of pure gold, glittering like the mid-day sun upon the sapphire Nile
even under the half-dimmed light. Khaske greedily snatched the offered bag, passing
it to others who had come to listen out of interest.

Khaske bowed smartly. "Consider it done, my Priest."

It seemed as if the High Priest was done speaking, but Seto gestured for the other to
stay. His eyes glittered for a second as he stuck his hands into the folds of his cloak
once more. "Oh, before we part, I have another gift for you."

The word 'gift' immediately piqued Khaske's interest. He turned his greedy face
towards the High Priest in curiousity.

This time, instead of drawing something out from the folds of his large cloak, Priest
Seto beckoned to the door. Several of the men gasped in shock and fear, and even
Khaske's shrewd eyes held a strange look.

For, half-hidden under the door's shadow was a boy no older than twelve.

There was nothing special about boys; everyone in the room had been a boy once.
What had startled them was the boy's appearance. Jagged black hair ending in red
highlights. Luminescent golden bangs framed around the childish face. Soft amethyst
eyes glistened with both fear and apprehension, hands clinging tightly to rough
wooden door.

The High Priest barely batted an eye at the startled expressions of the commonfolk
gathered within this tavern, drawing the small boy out from his hiding place with a
single pull of his hand. The boy stumbled forwards, falling pitifully onto his knees,
eyes focused on the ground.

"I found this slave boy at the local market," Seto commented in a diffident and
neutral manner. "His resemblance to the Pharaoh was quite startling."

Khaske burst out laughing, a full throaty roar; stirring a few confused and clueless
expressions from the others. "So," Khaske took a few breaths, still chuckling, "this is
your bonus for us. A Pharaoh look-alike, in the form of a slave. You certainly play
your ironies well."

Priest Seto stared contemptuously at the slave boy, a small, whimpering child with no
clue of his future. That is, whatever remained of the boy's future. "Do what you wish
with the boy. The former owner informed me that he is fourteen and still untouched."

Khaske gave a hiss of appreciation, a large smile lighting up his chubby face. His
beady eyes glittered in anticipation. "Yes, I'll have fun playing with this child-
Pharaoh. I'll 'educate' him nice and good." Some of the others snickered and clapped
heartily at that remark, beginning to bet and argue among themselves for their order
of turns.

A pity that this slave wasn't the Pharaoh himself. Then again, Seto wanted to be the
one who made Pharaoh Yami suffer. He wanted to personally see the Pharaoh reduced
to a pitiful weeping wrench, just like this slave-boy was doomed to become. The High
Priest gave Khaske a final parting nod before leaving the crowded tavern without a
word. He could hear roars and shouts from inside. A smile played on his lips before
he lifted his hood over his head and disappeared into the darkness

*************************************

He pulled away from the other with will-power that startled even himself. With quick
noisy, gasps, he sat straight up on the bed, brushing one hand over his head in an
attempt to smoothen his mussed-up hair.

"Something wrong, Yami?"

The Pharaoh's head pivoted at the slurred words to face his lover. The other was
undoubtedly beautiful, eyes a brilliant chocolate brown, hair gold enough to rival Ra's
light. For a moment, the Pharaoh, Yami, simply stared at the other's peaceful form,
watching the blonde's bare sweat-covered chest rise up and down in vast heaves.

The other propelled himself up so that he sat beside Yami, one hand running gently
along the Pharaoh's back. "You look distracted," the blonde murmured, chuckling as
Yami arched his back in response to the touch.

"Jounochi-" Yami breathed in, enjoying the sensual feeling of the other's calloused
fingers along his skin, "I-" He stopped, breaking out from his blissful reverie. "I need
to tell you something."

"Hmmm?" The blonde seemed more interested in drawing circles on the Pharaoh's
back.

Yami momentarily softened under the touch before his mind jerked his body back to
the situation at hand. "I- I don't think this can continue much longer."

Jounochi suddenly stopped. His expression changed from sedated smile to a look of
absolute confusion. There was a moment's lull before the blonde's mind began
working clearly. "I get it." This time, there was an evident hint of anger in Jounochi's
voice. "I'm not good enough for the _Pharaoh_."

Yami gave a mental sigh. Jounochi was sometimes too stubborn for his own good.
"It's not like that!" the Pharaoh immediately argued. He was just as bitter over his
father's untimely death as Jounochi, mainly because of his sudden time-wasting
demands as the new Pharaoh. Yami bit his lip in apprehension. Jounochi and he had
been partners before the entire kingdom had been dumped on his hands - this really
wasn't fair for the blonde. "Look at me. I'm supposed to marry sometime this year
and have plenty of children to spread my lineage. If anyone ever discovered our
relationship-"

Jounochi pressed a finger against Yami's lips. "If. The keyword is 'if'."

Sighing, Yami fell backwards onto his bed, jagged tri-coloured hair splaying out to
curl around his face. "It doesn't work that way." He bit his lip, debating over his
words before finally blurting the truth out. "I think Priest Seto knows already."

The blonde's expression immediately went from confusion to shock to complete
unadulterated anger. "That bastard!" the blonde hissed, angrily slamming his fists
against the soft matting. "That arrogant, two-timing snake! He thinks he owns the entire-"

Yami shook his head curtly, gesturing for the other to be quiet. "Not so loud,
Jounochi," the Pharaoh warned. "The High Priest has many loyal followers. I
wouldn't be surprised if even my personal chambers suddenly developed ears and
betrayed me."

"But-" Jounochi spluttered, struggling for words. His eyes flashed in indignation.
"That's just unfair! It's not right!"

The Pharaoh looked away from the blonde. He spent a while staring outside the
spacious window at the moonlit sky. "Jounochi, few things in life are fair."

"Then make me your slave!" The blonde seemed almost desperate now, unwilling to
break such a valuable relationship. "I-I'll forfeit my status and then no one can break
us apart. I mean, even Seto has personal pleasure slaves."

Yami shook his head. "Don't you understand? I couldn't do that to you. You'd lose
everything. And before you say you don't care, even if you became my slave, I'd still
have to get married. It's easier this way because I don't want either of us to get hurt."

The blonde whirled around in enraged frenzy, clasping his hands on Yami's
shoulders. He stared at the Pharaoh face to face. For a moment, Jounochi said nothing,
simply gazing into Yami's ruby-red eyes. His breath came in trembling,
uncontrollable gasps.

At last, Yami broke the uncomfortable silence. "Jounochi. Just let me go. Please."

Pharaohs were supposed to be the source of ultimate power, a god in the guise of a
man descended from the heavens to create peace and harmony. Yet, just sitting there,
gazing into Yami's crimson eyes, Jounochi caught a glimpse of the true, wearied soul
hiding underneath the Pharaoh's placid mask.

Wordlessly, Pharaoh Yami stood up, slipping into his elegant loincloth and rubbing
the dark kohl back onto his eyes. He quietly walked past Jounochi's still, silent form,
closing the door behind him.

Jounochi was alone in the room now.

***************************************

It hurt.

Every muscle within his body was on fire; places he didn't even know could hurt
burned and stung in absolute torment. It was amazing how fast a soul, untaught of
modesty or humility, could be so utterly violated.

All around him, the chorus of laughter continued, louder than ever. There were hands
on his back, along his neck, covering his mouth, never stopping their assault. Yet,
most of all were the hands around his legs, prying them apart with drunken rashness,
tearing at the exposed flesh underneath in livid pleasure.

A strand of rope had been brutally tied between the boy's legs, travelling up his back
and around his neck, end hanging like a demented leash. He grunted, sweat dripping
from his pained face as the fingers continued to prod and shove forcefully, tying and
retying the rope into several tighter knots.

"Whip the bitch! Whip 'im good!"

Several of them had gotten hold of the rope's end, flaying the boy's prone skin with
the loose cord. Another had taken the remnants of the slave-boy's clothing and tied a
crude collar around his fragile neck.

"Harder! Whip him harder!"

The stings came faster now, pelting him until all he could feel were invisible daggers
sticking into his flesh, accumulating with each blow in one swollen mass. The tears
continued to come, soaking his face in the salty, sticky liquid and causing him to
choke several times. The boy closed his eyes, wishing feverishly for the pain to stop.
He could feel them tugging at his unusual crown of jagged red-black hair, tearing
apart the hair and leaving sizeable chunks of raw red flesh on his scalp.

The words had become an indiscernible roar but he no longer cared. The boy's once-
bright eyes turned glassy, a pained expression etched on his face before he faded into
unconsciousness.

Blissful, peaceful, painless unconsciousness.

*******************************************
< br> Jounochi shifted helplessly as he watched the Pharaoh's expression dissolve from
regal confidence to absolute frustration. It was evening now and finally, the hoards of
unsatisfied and angry commoners and nobles had left.

"I don't get it." Yami sank to the ground, fists clenched in absolute frustration. "What
did I ever do to make them hate me so much? It's like they expect me to be a god or
something."

"That's because you are a god."

Both Jounochi and Yami jerked their heads up as a third figure emerged from behind
one of the many chamber-hall pillars.

"What do you want, Priest?" Jounochi assumed a protective stance in front of the
Pharaoh, eyes narrowed in loathing. "Typical of you, to slink around in the shadows
like that."

"Don't worry." The High Priest smiled, not too nicely. "I would never think of
sinking to your level, Jounochi, commander of the High Guards." Seto's voice
dripped with contempt. "But then again, I don't need the Pharaoh's pity."

Jounochi roared in fury, making a frenzied charge at the Priest. His hands grappled
thin air, and he leapt for Seto's moving figure again.

"Enough, Jounochi." Yami had finally surfaced from the pool of his doubt. The
Pharaoh stood up from the ground, forcing himself into a regal, confident stance.
"What is it that you request of me, High Priest Seto?" The Pharaoh stated the words
with equal dislike.

Seto gave a mock, bow, smiling triumphantly at Jounochi's bristling form. "Oh,
nothing, _Pharaoh_. I just dropped by to see how you're doing. It seems to me like
you have too much on your hands. Would be a pity if you dropped them all, don't you
think?"

Yami remained stoic. "I would think that you, being the High Priest, would have more
faith in your Pharaoh."

"Hmmm, maybe." Seto looked genuinely amused. "It depends on how well the
Pharaoh conducts himself. After all, a Pharaoh's duty comes before anything else,
_especially_ personal affairs." The High Priest cast another contemptuous look at the
blonde.

"Jounochi!" Yami warned as the High Guard gathered himself for another assault.
The Pharaoh gave a stiff, formal nod to dismiss the priest. "I shall remain loyal to my
citizens and to my duty as Pharaoh. Do not waste effort worrying about me, High
Priest, when you have more important matters to take care of."

Seto's face flushed. He angrily collected his cloak before striding away, Millennium
Rod in one hand.

Jounochi waited until the High Priest was clearly out of sight before sticking out his
tongue impudently. "Bah! Priests! Who needs them?!"

However, Yami's eyes were clouded in thought and doubt. "Maybe Seto is right." The
Pharaoh's eyes remained fixed on the door the priest had used to make his exit.
"Maybe I should focus more on my duties."

"Come off it already!" Jounochi was not easily deterred. "This _is_ Seto, your long-
time rival, we are talking about."

"Yes," Yami agreed slowly, digesting each word, "but Seto is the High Priest. And
High Priests have a lot of power."

********************************************

"You 're sure about this?"

Yami rubbed his forehead with an open palm. Even Jounochi thought his plan would
backfire; which didn't help to boost his confidence. "I have to, Jounochi. I want to
know what the commoners think of me and more importantly, why. What I want to do
is figure out the source of this anger."

Jounochi rolled his eyes. "You don't have to go anywhere for that. I can tell you right
here."

"Saying that it's Seto isn't good enough. _If_ he is the culprit, I need proof."

"You fuckin' have proof!" The blonde stood up angrily, temper flaring uncontrollably
at the mention of the Priest's name. "He's fuckin' jealous of you, and it shows
through everything he fuckin' does!"

Yami glared disapprovingly at the other. Slowly, he slid the hood over his head,
making sure that he covered his face entirely under the thick cloth. "I'll be back by
sundown." And with that, the Pharaoh turned away, escaping through the gateway
Jounochi was assigned to guard into the vast clusters of shelters below.

***********************************

The only other time Yami had actually been outside the Palace was back when his
father was alive. They had ridden across the city on horses, escorted by huge flanks of
personal guards. Which would explain why the Pharaoh felt completely out of place.
The youth grit his teeth in determination. He could handle it. Surely Seto had done the
same thing, for how else could the other have gained so much knowledge of and
power in the outside world? Anything the High Priest could do, the Pharaoh could do
better.

"Please, would you like to buy these?" A grubby-looking man swathed in reeking
stained clothing stuck his arms out, hands cupping a foul-looking herb.

Yami recoiled in absolute disgust, distancing himself from the stranger though his
eyes could not tear themselves off the hollow, skin-and-bones face of the beggar until
he turned a corner. From there, he continued to walk, trotting a bit faster lest more
beggars swarm upon him with their filthy bodies.

The Pharaoh continued to walk for a while, weaving through various streets and
sights. At times he brushed the crowds closely enough to overhear conversations
before continuing on in discretion. Most of the peasants were content, accepting their
harsh life as a gift and grateful to be blessed by the light of Ra. Yami found this
world- where everyone was treated equally, quarrelling and fighting one moment and
embracing each other the next- a strange world of puzzles and questions. How could
they live in such a simple world so dutifully bound to their meagre tasks? It was as if
they cast a blind eye to those of the higher class, avoiding them in hopes of retaining
their simplicity.

Which, Yami thought, could be a good reason why they were peasants and not nobles.
Having concluded that much, the pharaoh headed on down the numerous streets
crowded with bustling people that were always in a rush on some unknown task. He
seemed the only person trotting slowly, a drop of calm observation in the tide of noise
and hastiness.

It was late noon when the Pharaoh actually felt tired, and he finally resigned to
walking into a tavern, sitting heavily on one of the hard wooden benches inside. He
tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, ordering whatever the other commoners
were drinking in a quiet and subdued voice most unlike his regal self. Yami
unconsciously smiled to himself as one of the serving-girls brought him a clay cup of
strange, foamy substance. Jounochi would definitely have a fit if the blonde knew
where he was right now!

At that moment, the doors to the tavern suddenly swung wide open, and a group of
burly commoners walked inside, all ordering a regular before occupying the limited
amount of seats at the tables. The leader of this escort grabbed his cup, taking a deep
swig of the liquid before sitting casually beside the Pharaoh.

"Stuff's good eh?" the stout, balding man said, taking another swig and wiping the
foam from his stubbly chin.

Mutely, Yami nodded, not daring to offend the other. He politely lifted his mug,
sipping at its contents before putting it down with startling alacrity. His tongue felt
like it was on fire, every tastebud cauterized until his entire mouth was numb. It was
easily the most bitter and vile sensation the Pharaoh had ever experienced but he
forced it down, tears watering at his eyes.

The man suddenly gave a loud cackle, heartily patting Yami's back. "That's the
spirit!" He slapped his hand repeatedly on the Pharaoh's back as Yami began to choke
and cough. "Take it easy there, that's what I always say!"

Yami continued to cough, not noticing when his hood fell back due to the other's
consistent slaps. He looked up through blurred eyes as he suddenly realized that the
once loud and rowdy room had fallen to a dead silence. Face flushing under the stares,
he fumbled for his hood as a sinking feeling pulled at his chest. Next to no one shared
the Pharaoh's distinct hairstyle.

"Well I'll be." For some unfathomable reason, the stout commoner seated next to the
Pharaoh seemed more amused than surprised. "There's another one too!"

Upon hearing that comment, several of the others relaxed, turning back to their
drinking and breaking the barrier of silence once more.

Yami didn't know whether to be grateful, relieved, or completely confused. "Another
one?" the Pharaoh repeated, knowing that he didn't exactly sound like the smartest
person at the moment. He mentally thanked the Gods for the sufficient cover-up.

Stout-man simply nodded, drinking deeply from his cup and giving a loud belch.
"Yeah. We got this youngun' yesterdays. Looked just like you." He then muttered
something about the sudden outbreak of Pharaoh look-alikes before ordering his mug
to be refilled. "'Ey, Nakti! Seen the bitch-boy around?"

Nakti replied with a negative, causing the stout-man to stand up, mutter a plethora of
curses, and proceed to excuse himself from the table, lumbering into the tavern's
private working rooms.

"He'll be back." Nakti gave the Pharaoh a sly wink, "though you should have seen the
events yesterday with the boy - a pity you missed it."

Yami blinked a few times, taking note how some of the other men seemed as hung-
over as both stout-man and this Nakti. The Pharaoh might have been of high class but
he was well aware of the lecherous sport of rape and prostitution among the
commoners. He politely asked the serving girl where the privy was before rushing
through the back hall into the public privy grounds. Without a moment's hesitation,
he bent over a foul-smelling tray and vomited, heaving out all the foul contents from
the liquor until his stomach was absolutely cleared of the rank drink.

Exhausted, the Pharaoh pushed himself away from the putrid contents within the tray,
wrinkling his nose in disgust before falling ungracefully backwards on his butt. He
gave a little inward sigh before mustering enough strength and dignity to stand up,
pulling his hood back on. After all, he might have been lucky this time but the
Pharaoh was not one to rely on luck alone.

A small whimper suddenly interrupted the Pharaoh's self-absorbed thoughts. Yami
quickly whipped his head around, trying to locate the source. Something shuffled in
the darkness at a corner between two trays, and Yami's curiousity managed to get the
better of him as he kneeled down to examine it.

The Pharaoh came face to face with a boy that looked to be on the verge of
adolescence. His frail, rather short form was bedecked with generous bruises and cuts.
A piece of rope hung around the boy's neck, coiling several times against the boy's
thighs and between his legs. Yami hissed in anger, taking in the full extent of
the damage. It only added insult to the injury that this poor abused boy looked exactly
like himself. True, there were several things that could define one from the other, but
even with the boy's hair hanging limply at straggling angles and amethyst eyes half-
closed, there was no denying the startling similarity.

A corner of the Pharaoh's mind tentatively identified the boy as the object of the
stout-man's 'entertainment'. Yami felt his stomach tighten in rage and revulsion. This
boy looked barely fourteen years. It sickened him to think of what they had done, and
might do, to him. He toyed with the idea of condemning those who had abused the
poor boy but his logic subdued his anger. He would immediately be criticized for
lying about his 'sick leave', as any form of extracting revenge would require proof of
his status.

Which would mean that Seto would again get the upper hand.

Which brought the Pharaoh to his current dilemma. True, he could bring the boy
along with him but then what? Keep the pitiful thing as a slave? Or perhaps, it was
better to leave such things as they were meant to be and not get involved in them.

The small boy groaned slightly, cracking his violet eyes wide open. The boy noticed
Yami's presence immediately and began scooting backwards into the corner as far as
possible, a look of absolute fear and panic crossing the innocent features. "P-p-p-
please d-don't hurt m-me," the boy stuttered, dried blood cracking on the parched lips.

The Pharaoh made up his mind. Even gods had a heart and Amun could damn him
forever for all that he cared. No boy- no child- with such innocence deserved to have
their youth broken _that_ way. Even Jounochi would agree with this; the latter was
always expressing his hatred of abusing even pleasure-slaves.

Which was exactly what this boy was fated to be.

"Here." Yami extended a hand, pulling his hood back just enough to encourage the
frightened boy with a reassuring smile. The boy refused to budge and the Pharaoh
sighed inwardly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

The small boy shuddered, tears suddenly trickling down his uncannily large eyes.
They pooled along the rims, making them glisten in the murky shadows. "Th-they…"
he began to stutter, voice dying altogether to be replaced with hoarse whispers.

Yami cursed slightly under his breath. The boy was probably still in a state of
shock and had to be attended to quickly. Another part of the Pharaoh wondered why
he even cared. Why should he care for this single slave boy when there were so many
others of higher rank that sought justice and rights?

"D-don't leave me."

The boy looked directly into the Pharaoh's eyes, violet clashing with scarlet red. They
were complete opposites of each other: Pharaoh and slave; experienced and naïve;
hardened and innocent; pampered and tormented. But there was something in the
boy's eyes, a spark that reminded Yami of the days of his childhood. Their lives
might have been different, but their souls, like their appearance, were the same.

Yami gently took one of the boy's hands, hoisting his fragile body from the ground
and wrapping him around the folds of his cloak. Then, the pair slunk away quietly,
never to be seen at the tavern again.

**************************************

Jounochi closed the gate with a loud sigh of relief. He quickly turned to the Pharaoh,
arms crossed angrily. "You could have at least told me where you were going! I
mean, you could have gotten into big trouble for-"

"-I love you too." Yami gave an absent-minded smile, pushing past the High Guard,
leaving the other to open and close his mouth several times before throwing his hands
in the air in frustration. The blonde then noticed the extra pair of feet sticking out
from within the Pharaoh's cloak.

"It looks like you have a little stowaway," Jounochi pointed to the feet 'hidden' from
view. Upon seeing Yami's puzzled look, he rolled his eyes. "I'm not _that_ stupid."

The Pharaoh opened his mouth to respond but suddenly snapped it shut. He looked
guiltily around the palace grounds before turning back towards the High Guard. "Fine,
just promise not to tell anyone else."

The blonde arched a single golden eyebrow. "Tell them what?"

Yami undid his cloak clasp, allowing the folds of fabric to open just enough to reveal
a pair of large amethyst eyes peering from underneath. The hiding figure squirmed
unpleasantly, shuffling closer to the Pharaoh's chest, frail fingers grabbing a handful
of fabric in attempt to close the gap once more.

Jounochi simply pried the trembling fingers apart, bending down to catch a clear
glimpse of the stowaway underneath the Pharaoh's cloak. His amused brown eyes
traced the figure's features, quivering delicately even in the darkness. "Damn, Yami.
Isn't that a bit too young for you?" He gave a small whistle of appreciation. "You've
definitely got good tastes though."

Upon hearing his former lover's words, Yami turned a deep shade of red and hit the
hapless blonde on the head. "It's not like that! I-I just found him." The Pharaoh
blinked, as if hearing his own words for the first time. "Great. What exactly am I
supposed to do with him?"

The small boy shuddered uncontrollably, pushing his small frame tighter against the
Pharaoh's body as if Yami were his only lifeline. "Don't leave me." Tears
began pooling in his large eyes once more. "Th-they'll g-get me. And-"

The Pharaoh gave a small sigh. "It's okay, little one. I'll take care of you."

"Yeah", Jounochi muttered darkly, "Until someone finds out. Namely a brown-haired
someone."

Yami shot the blonde a wilting glare, wrapping the cloak together once more before
leaving for his chambers.

**************************************************
< br> "Pharaoh." A pretty hand-maiden entered the room, bowing reverently while keeping
her eyes on the ground. It was expected of the lower class to avert their eyes from
the Pharaoh if he did not allow them the privilege to behold his brilliance. Those that
disobeyed were sentenced to immediate death. "Your food and wash basin are
ready."

Yami nodded. Realizing that the serving lady was still looking at the floor, he voiced
his opinion. "Thank you. You may leave." The girl left with such alarming speed that
the Pharaoh blinked a few times, and wondered if he had said something wrong. Then
again, he almost never dined in his personal chambers.

"You can come out now." The Pharaoh glanced to the corner of his luxurious
chamber, beckoning a small figure scrunched within the shadows. There was a
muffled shuffling sound before the boy neared Yami. Like the hand-maiden, the boy's
eyes were also fixated on the floor, head bowed low and back bent almost double like
an old crone. "What are you doing?" Yami seemed more puzzled than anything else.

"I-I can't look at you. You're…" The boy's awed voice died to a faint whimper.

Yami snorted in amusement. "I'm what? The Pharaoh? You looked at me before,
didn't you?"

The small figure bit his already-swollen lip. "Yes, but I d-didn't know back then."

Years of enforcing the image of the Pharaoh as a God and the commoners had been
reduced to _this_. Yami gave yet another one of his many mental sighs. "So? You
know now."

"Yes, but-"

Without warning, Yami extended an arm, fingers grasping the boy by the cheeks and
forcing the child's chin to tilt upwards until his face was level with the Pharaoh's.
Though the two were completely face-to-face, the smaller figure flicked his eyes to
one side, vainly trying to avoid looking at the other.

In response, Yami snapped his fingers, causing the boy to reflexively trace the sound
until his curious eyes locked onto the Pharaoh's. Yami could feel the boy squirm
uncomfortably under the piercing gaze. The taller figure's crimson eyes prevented the
child from looking away.

"There," Yami's spoke in quiet reassurance. "You have looked straight into the
_Pharaoh's_ eyes." He then began to chuckle. "I have yet to see Ra come down and
condemn you."

It only took that single sentence to break the ice. Mere seconds later and the boy had
his buried in the Pharaoh's chest, crying brokenly in silent sobs. His thin shoulder
blades quivered, jutting unnaturally from his scarred back.

Yami stood there, unsure of what to do. He could feel the warm tears trickling down
his bare chest, and briefly wondered if the boy even noticed the slightly awkward
situation. The Pharaoh quickly solved the problem by taking a seat on his bed and
shifting the child's head to his lap.

"It's okay." Yami placed his hand on top of the boy's head, hesitantly stroking the
soft black hair so like his own. He continued to mutter reassuring words, feeling much
like a mother crooning at her baby. "I'll be here." A voice in his mind muttered that
Jounochi had never acted like this. Then again, Jounochi had lived a luxurious life
where he had been the aggressor, not vice versa.

At last, the small boy's tearful sobs turned onto quiet breaths and his eyes closed in
dreamless sleep. Yami waited for a few moments before awkwardly shifting the boy
off his lap and onto the mattress, making sure that the small figure didn't fall off in
the process. The Pharaoh then stood up.

The boy looked so serene on the lavish bed, hands tucked by his cheeks and lips
curled into a half-pout. Tendrils of golden-yellow hair curled around his face like a
crown of pure gold. Yami spent a few seconds admiring the boy's angelic body. He
quietly grabbed the nearby wash-basin, soaking the towel in the lukewarm water
before gently dabbing at the boy's numerous cuts. Though his hands methodically
scrubbed the blood and dirt-stains, the Pharaoh's face shifted between disgust and
absolute hatred with each tended blemish.

Having completed the task, Yami gently pulled the silk covers over the boy's body.
The child looked like a miniature god dressed in pure white, blankets around him
rippled like wings. For a single moment, the Pharaoh was tempted to brush his face
against the boy's gentle ruby lips and taste the sweet breaths of innocence. He quickly
shook his head to clear his mind from such thoughts.

The boy needed a name. True, Yami could continue calling him 'little one', but it
seemed inappropriate and unbefitting of such an angelic figure. The Pharaoh gently
stroked the boy's face, absentmindedly tracing his fingers down the small figure's
chest. "Yuugi. You shall be called Yuugi."

Unfortunately, sick or not sick, there were still matters Yami had to tend to as
Pharaoh. They were his duties, his condemnation, his punishment for the crime of
inheriting noble blood. The Pharaoh reluctantly took one last look at the boy Yuugi
before slipping out the door, locking it carefully shut. He then strode contently down
the hallway, humming an abstract song to himself.

If anyone noticed the wet stain centered around the Pharaoh's thighs, they were wise
enough not to comment. [1]

**********************************

End notes:

[1] The 'wet stain' is most definitely Yuugi's tears when he was crying on Yami's
lap, but I thought it would be funny to include this, because the stain _could_ be
mistaken for something else. XD

Anyway, the sole reason I wrote this fic was because of the ending (which you will see in part 2). In fact, I kinda
wrote the ending before the beginning ^^;;;

Special thanks goes out to Myst-Lady, Melinda, and NC-san, for inspiring me with
their own e-mailed fics and muse-like support ^-^.