Splat.
Splat.
Splat.
Dark clouds blanketed the sky as raindrops fell on top of the rooftop of an apartment complex. The lights of the city were blurred through the droplets of water. People walked on the street below, with umbrellas as shields, and enjoyed the cool September weather. It was not often that rain fell and was not accompanied by the crack of thunder and the flash of lightning. On a bench, a couple was snuggling, enjoying what looked like a cup of hot coffee and sharing an occasional kiss.
On top of the apartment complex, a teenage boy was curled up in a ball, hugging his knees. Raindrops soaked his pure-white hair, making it look and ash-gray color. He was silent, save for the sound of his breathing. Occasionally he would let out a small sigh. He didn't seem to care that he was completely drenched, or that the wind was blowing and causing him to shiver. He coughed.
He looked up at the falling rain, not caring about the rain falling in his eyes; he blinked them out.
"The sky cries like I do..." He whispered, unsure if the moisture in his eyes was from rain or tears. Nor did he particularly care. He buried his face in his knees and stared at the grey, cracked cement.
He chuckled, he was sitting on the same spot that he and Marik had made love that one time. That last time. The time before Marik had left to go back to Egypt, leaving Bakura alone. He always knew that Marik would never consider him more than a fuck buddy, but still. It seemed so fitting that the spot that had once meant so much to Bakura was now cracked and faded. In a way, it reminded him of his heart. Shattered and broken, not much more than cold stone.
He missed Marik...
"Bakura," Marik said.
Bakura turned abruptly, "What?" He growled.
"Bakura, Ishizu and Rishid want me to come back to Egypt with them," He stated.
"What?! You're- you're not seriously considering going with them, are you?!"
"I can't stay here. There's nothing for me here."
"What's there for you in Egypt?"
"A stable life. A family. A real home, not some ratty old apartment," He trailed off for a second, but stared back into Bakura's eyes, "Love."
Bakura gaped, but he couldn't find anything to say.
"I'll be going now." He said, without a goodbye, turning and walking off towards his motorcycle and taking off.
And Bakura didn't stop him. Now, Marik was gone forever. He was back in Egypt, they were as far away as possible.
Bakura wondered if Marik ever thought of him like he thought of Marik. If Marik ever dreamed about him. If Marik ever sat on a rooftop in the middle of a rainstorm and stared into the sky, dreaming of how it could have been if he had just stayed.
But that's not what hurt the most. The fact that Marik was gone was not what hurt the most, either. Nor the fact that Bakura now felt so lonely. What hurt the most was that Marik had been so calm about leaving him. That Marik didn't even seem to have to think twice about going back to Egypt. That Marik broke the news to Bakura on the fifth anniversary of when they first met.
And, perhaps, it hurt the most of all that Bakura was planning to propose to him on that very day, at that very meeting that Marik had called Bakura to, that one, last time.
Now, Bakura was alone. Left to regret and imagine what could have been. What they could have been, together.
This is for the third installment for Legend of Derpy's fanfiction challenge. I got the inspiration for this story from the song "What hurts the most" by Rascal Flatts. This song just seems so fitting for a romantic tragedy between Marik and Bakura. School is finally out, so I will be able to write a lot more! I'm working on the next chapter of Marik and Bakura: 333 Ways Continued, so stay tuned for that. Thanks for reading!