Those Who Mourn the Wicked [Ryou Bakura/Yami Bakura x OC]

03. The Mummy Wasn't Even That Good of a Film

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Akane’s dreams were filled with sand and tombs and temples. It caused her to awake two hours later in a very foul mood.

Most people didn’t dream of tombs and temples, but Akane did. Probably because both her parents worked in the British Museum. They were archeologists. They had raised her on Indiana Jones and the Mummy. Akane’s room, as a baby, was painted to look like sand dunes and the entrance of the Kom Ombo Temple. Her grandfather had always been most passionate about the Ptolemaic dynasty, it being the last dynasty of ancient Egypt and all. Apparently he had painted her room.

And to believe most people thought it was the horror movies that had driven her off the deep end.

Her mother, unlike her father, decided to study the 18th Dynasty, arguably the most famous Dynasty. She also ended up marrying Gideon Carter, a decent of the Howard Carter.

God, her life really was the archeologist version of the Brady Bunch when she thought too hard about it.

Akane, like her aunt and unlike everyone else in her family, hated history and hated archeology along with it. The fact that she could read hieroglyphics made her want to vomit up her insides and the fact that could give vague recounts of ancient Egyptian happenings made her want to hurl herself off of the top of a building.

She kicked and rock quite hard down the sidewalk imagining that the rock was the Sphinx.

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she approached the school gate.

Early as usual. At least she had slept for once.

She was generally the first student to arrive, something she had never really thought about until she realized that her class could have very well thought that was a good enough reason to elect her as class representative.

She pulled off her boots and pulled on her school shoes, rolling her eyes a bit as she kept perfect balance between switching legs. The soles of her shoes dragged across the floor as she walked to her homeroom, eyes glazing over the moment her butt hit her seat. She stared out the window and sighed, resting her chin in her palm.

That had been a very weird dream, though. Never mind the setting, she had seen a girl with a ram skull over her head and hair nearly as red as hers. She had markings on her arms and shackles on her legs. Probably the creation of a few different horror movies. The ram skull would certainly point to such, though; Akane couldn’t remember the last satanic horror film she had watched. Not to mention, the marks hadn’t looked familiar. They had looked Egyptian, and not the sort she knew about.

She shook her head once and instead took out her books, much preferring the company of boring math to the inner workings of her unconscious mind.

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