Mokuba had vehemently objected to his plan, loudly and repeatedly in fact. The words "suicidal", "reckless", and "stupid" came up more than once, in point of fact.
At least, that was before Bakura had stepped out of the shadows somewhere behind him. Then the volume had only gotten louder, and the words had switched to some that he was definitely positive his little brother should not yet know.
All the noise seemed to be attracting quite a crowd from the lower levels, including Kawai Shizuka. She brushed past him and his double armload of squirming and kicking Mokuba and right up to Bakura. With a whole lot more reverence than she'd ever shown him, she asked softly, "Has there been any sign of my brother?"
The white-haired man shook his head slightly. "Nothing. He's still inside the museum. Last I heard, as of two weeks ago, he was still alive."
"It's better than nothing, I guess," she responded quietly.
To himself, he had to wonder about that: if any of the people still alive in the museum were better off alive or dead. Not after what little Bakura had told him on the roof just a few moments ago about what was likely happening to the other Yuugi in there -- and he had a weird feeling that the white-haired man was holding back on any details he might know. He didn't think that bothered him; he was probably better off not knowing, not yet at least.
Now that Mokuba was beginning to slow and maybe even stop struggling, he could actually examine the growing crowd's reaction to Bakura's presence. There was surprise and something very much like awe on more than a few faces in their midst. They were looking at Bakura like he was some sort of savior. A lot of these people had been delivered here by one part of Wraith or the other, though, so it was probably a valid assumption. To them, that was what the white-haired man was. That was all they knew about him.
And maybe that was all they needed to know, all of them needed to know. If he was reading between the lines correctly with something Bakura had said earlier on the roof, then the white-haired man before him had been... possessed by Zork until it rose and took over. So if that theory was in any way true, how many of the things he remembered Bakura doing a year ago had, in fact, Bakura actually done? How much had been Zork, and how much had been the thief?
Idle curiosity was not generally something he frequently indulged in, but this one time, he might make an exception. He might have to ask Bakura at some point when there wasn't a mob of people surrounding them both.
He was definitely going to have to go with Bakura now, irregardless of Mokuba's vehement objects, if only so that he could assuage some of the questions he now had.
02 July 2009
Okay, well, I definitely flubbed the whole "updating quickly" thing. My only excuse is that I've been very busy with the writing that should get me paid. I hate using "should" there, but...
Book 1 of The Preterhumans -- Amaranth -- is out on Amazon. It had decent sales in March and April, but it seems to be slacking off now. I think it's currently on sale right now, maybe a couple dollars off. Better than nothing, right? I'm still waiting on edits for the second book, Verdant, and while the third book is finished, I'm holding off till I see what happens with the first two. For JulNoWriMo this year, I'm starting a new series though, something I can pitch to other publishers instead of being stuck where I am.
I'm still working on Endless Loop 5: Route 666 and Belladonna on the fanfiction front. Don't write me off as abandoning fandom yet!
Finally, thanks to Velgamidragon for prodding me into finishing up this chapter. See? Comments help!