A/n: Random muse that came to me at school/ when I was working on my other YuGiOh fic, Ka. I used a lot of parentheses because... I'm not really sure actually... I also didn't use Bakura name very much in this, it sounded better that way, I think. I don't like the ending that much though...

Inspired partially by Atomic Lightbulb's writing.

For anyone who's curious: I was listening to Papa Roach - Getting Away With Murder while writing this. Disclaimer: I think we all know this one; I do NOT own Yu-Gi-Oh/Yuugiou.

By Neitherworld

Bakura got his first scar when he was eight. This would later become one of his most striking features, though he never knew at the time.

He had received it when he had tried to save his Mother, during the attack of Kul Elna. (An incident that would plague his sleep for the rest of his life.) A soldier had brought a spear down on his eye, most likely trying to blind him.

Bakura was able to escape the solider, but his mother was not.

(No one else was, for that matter.)

His wound had gone uncleaned for most for the night, until he was able to calm himself down.

(And force any suicidal thoughts out of his mind)

It was surprising that the wound didn't get infected, let alone still able to see out of it.

(Though he wouldn't learn this until a several weeks later)

Most supplies ha been left untouched, so he gathered them and using camel, the boy headed for he closest town. He was rather brave for a young child. Or maybe just stupid.

–

The next one wouldn't actually be his second scar, he ah many others by this point, but it would be the the most noticeable.

(It would also help form his trademark scar)

He had gotten it when he did what he did best; Stealing. This time he had stolen something important, something that had been heading to a tomb.

(One that he would rob again, when he was older)

It was a book of sorts, so he had it tucked under his arm. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought it through enough, and the book slipped and plummeted to the ground.

He jumped down to get it, but fall from the rooftops to the ground nearly shattered both his ankles, and left him in pain.

(He hated pain almost as much as he hated the Pharaoh.)

The pain slowed him down greatly, and the soldiers were able to catch up to him. They took the book back, and attempted to take the thief to the palace.

(But Bakura wasn't going to give up that easily)

He struggled against the soldiers, until one bought his sword across his face. It broke though the fesh on his cheek, under his eye and on top of the older scar.

(From Kul Elna...)

He tasted blood in his mouth. The distracted him enough for a soldier to pounce on him.

The soldier, there was three in all, held the boy's arms behind his back. What the soldier didn't know was that he had a knife.

The fighting didn't last long and soon the soldiers were all one the ground, wounded but alive. He was abut to finish them off until he saw the fear- and faint determination, in their eyes.

(Not all that different form the fear and faint determination that had once been his eyes, four years ago)

He ran off that night, leaving the wounded men on the streets. It wasn't until he was far in the desert, riding his horse, until he realized he left the book behind.

–

The final addition to the scar on Bakura's face came not too long after, when he was the ripe age of fifteen. He had been, once again, doing what he loved; Being a thief.

This time it was a shiny, silver trinket. Silver. A rare, and very, very expensive metal in Egypt. He ran across the roof tops, at a quick pace. He made little sound due to no wearing shoes.

(He never wore them, unless the sand was to hot to walk on)

Using some stairs attacked to a house, he soon was on the ground a running. A bad idea, as the soldier were using horses this time.

They caught up in several minutes. There was five of them.

A soldier slashed his sword at him, but he blocked it with his dagger. Another one of the thief daggers was plunged into the leg of a horse, throwing the rider off.

(He did this to the other four horses as well)

He continued to fight with one guard, the others unsure of what to do. Before he knew it, he had stabbed the man. In the heart, killing him instantly.

It was the first time he had ever killed some one... Bakura grinned.

He enjoyed it.

(So, he did it again and again and again...)

Soon, only one soldier was alive, barely. With some strong Bakura didn't even know someone in the soldier's condition could muster up, the soldier brought his sword across his face, under the scar from three years ago.

The irony taste of blood broke him out of his surprised stupor. He stabbed the soldier in the gut.

(And how wonderful it felt to do so!)

"What ever you're trying to achieve... you're not going to get it any time soon... ..." the soldier made a sputtering-choking noise, before he fell down. Dead. He would have to head to Kul Elna, not too far away, to clean his wound.

As he rode to his home, on the least injured horse, he considered the soldier words. The soldier was right, but Bakura was a rather patient person.

(Or may just stubborn.)

And he had the scars to prove it.

End