AN: Just a fun little one-shot I just had to write once the idea popped in my head. I had planned to have this up yesterday but I ended up driving down to see my parents. Family reasons.
I'll have my new fic up hopefully next week, but depending on how this weekend goes, I might postpone weekly chapter postings until the following week. People want a fantasy epic, so here we go.
(In case it's not clear, any quotations in italics is spoken in Egyptian Arabic)
Marik bit on the end of his pen, eyes struggling not to glaze over his textbook. He was lying on his stomach, still trying to concentrate on the same paragraph for the last ten minutes. He had thought the fresh air of the city would wake him up and help him focus. Apparently, he thought wrong.
Marik struggled to keep focused, knowing the upcoming exam would kick his ass if he didn't take his classes seriously. While microeconomics was certainly an interesting topic, game theory was just boring as hell. If he had wanted to study that, he would have chosen mathematics as his degree. Still, prereqs were prereqs, so Marik would have to suffer through this section to get back to his main focus.
A group of fellow classmates walking by distracted him, their voices cutting through the music that Marik had put in. He bit back an irritated sigh, resisting the urge to snap at them and instead pumping up the volume on his ear buds. He had been living in the US for the last three and a half years, and he still hadn't gotten use to how loud Americans could be. This was somewhat ironic since his roommate, Joey Wheeler, was a native of Brooklyn and arguably the loudest person Marik had met. He should have learned his lesson by now, but alas.
He supposed they wouldn't be stereotypes if there weren't some level of truth to them. Marik smirked to himself, reflecting on the many clichés he had seen his American friends incidentally upholding. He couldn't be too harsh on them, but at the same time, their ignorance was fascinating. Their lack of knowledge of Egypt (and the rest of the world for that matter) had baffled Marik. They had previously asked him if he would be upset if they drank alcohol in front of him.
Sure, Egypt is a Muslim majority country, but that didn't mean they didn't have alcohol.
Marik snorted, shaking his head. His siblings had been far more obedient to the religious rules than he ever had. Marik hadn't gathered the courage to tell his siblings back at home that he was no longer a Muslim and had even tried pork. And that he loved bacon, for that matter.
Of course, Marik had other things he needed to talk about with his siblings. Like what he was going to do once he finished up his bachelor degree. Before, Marik had felt confident in his response, but he found his resolve wavering with each day that passed. Marik embracing liberal, western culture was just the tip of the iceberg of his tumultuous, heathen lifestyle.
Marik flicked his eyes up when he heard a voice he recognized. He spoke Duke talking with another girl, a charming smile on his face. His eyes glittered like emeralds and his hair fell perfectly as if placed there by the gods themselves. Marik forced his eyes down, glad that his tanned features would hide the blush growing on his face.
Yep, his tumultuous, heathen lifestyle. He had his work cut out for him on how he would explain this new development to Ishizu and Odion when he saw them again.
When Marik had been accepted to a university overseas with a scholarship, he had been ecstatic. It had always been a dream of his to travel to America. For the longest time, it hadn't seemed possible. After their father died of kidney failure (Marik blamed the drugs), Odion lived paycheck to paycheck to watch over Ishizu and him.
Marik wouldn't say he hated his homeland, but he had certainly been eager to move away from Egypt. There were a lot of sour memories with his birth country, and the idea of a fresh new start, a break to go live in the land of the free, was far too tempting. With all the opportunities that were promised across the Atlantic, Marik practically jumped on the first plane to NYC when he got his acceptance letter.
His time in America had felt surreal for the longest time. The idea that he was actually living overseas in a brand new world was certainly a jolt, but one that had Marik thirsting for more. He wanted to experience as much of his new life as possible. This overwhelming culture shock barely gave Marik any time to miss his homeland. How could he when he had a new life to create for himself?
Yet here Marik was, his heart aching for a place he still called home. He had thought he could tear away from his roots and plant himself here without any regrets. Yet as Marik drew closer to finishing his degree, he found his own soul calling out for the land of his birth. He missed the sprawling city of Cairo and the history of the land. He missed the delectable falafels from the local street vendors that he and his friends always visited. He missed the horizon carved by sand and meadows lush by the delta.
Homesickness had taken ahold of Marik's life.
So Marik found himself spending more of his time doing things that reminded him of home. He had dragged his American friends out to try a variety of food stands that had staples from his homeland. He picked up a copy of Zaynab that sister gave him years ago. He hadn't bothered to read it before, but now he thirsted the familiar Arabic print. Perhaps even more absurd was how he started to listening to Hossam Habib on his phone.
If Ishizu saw him now. Marik shook his head, banishing the thought from mind with embarrassment. She had always had a crush on the famous pop star, and he had hounded her for her fan girl behaviors. Marik had refused to listen to him for the principle of the matters, being a larger fan of Coldplay and Charli XCX. However, years of being saturated by American pop radio had Marik desperate for a… different sound.
Specifically, Egyptian Arabic.
Marik missed hearing his native language so damn much. He hadn't realized he could actually missing hearing words, and yet somehow, he had gotten to that point. Day in and day out of always speaking in another language made him grow weary. He spoke English fluently by now, all traces of an accent barely noticeable with the last few years of immersion.
But assimilation didn't always mean comfort with speaking the language. The harsh cadences of the Germanic language clashed with the smoother, melodic inflection of Egyptian Arabic. The familiarity and simple elegance of the language drew his thoughts back to home. For weeks, he had been trying to catch a time to call his siblings, not only because he missed them dearly, but because he wanted to speak his mother tongue once again.
If he really wanted to, he could speak his native language around his friends, but he knew that wouldn't satiate his desire. Marik, not known for having the best temper, would often mutter to himself in Arabic. He found it a good way of getting out quick rounds of irritation and frustration. It was better that he complain about his friends in a language they didn't understand then accidentally blurt something aloud while hanging out with them.
No sooner had Marik thought of this did he heard a familiar brassy sound. "Hey Marik! How's it going?"
Marik recognized the Brooklyn accent immediately. He glanced up at the blonde, a few of their friends in tow. "Hi Joey. How's life?"
Joey shifted his backpack, a large grin on his face. "Not too bad. We're heading over to have a Super Smash Bros. competition at Yugi's. Want to join?"
Marik sighed, glancing back down at his textbook. "Can't. I have an exam Monday."
A brunette with pointed hair leaned over to glance over at Marik's textbook. "Yikes. Is that for Pegasus's class?"
"The very same. I need to get my shit together."
Joey shrugged, starting to walk away with Tristan and Yugi in tow. "Well, if you finish up early, you know where to find us! Catch you later!"
Marik nodded his head to indicate he heard them, pretending to read until they were out of sight. He let a small grin grow on his face. They had been easier to shake today than usual. Joey and Yugi and his other friends meant well, but they had a rap record for being a bit too push for Marik's taste. Any other day, perhaps he would have ditched studying for video games, but his mind felt too cluttered for the distraction.
Marik rolled over onto his back, holding the textbook above him as he tried to read from a different position. These confusing, conflicting thoughts about his future, home, family, and friends muddled in his mind. He felt caught between the two languages that were constantly at war. The quick shift to speaking English with Joey had jarred him slightly, still mentally locked into another language.
Marik shook his head, narrowing his eyes. He would have time to figure out this headache later. He intended on studying outside and damn it, he was going to do. Just a few more hours of reading and perhaps he would meet up with Joey and their friends.
The lyrics of a Mahmoud El song woke Marik abruptly. He snapped up, realizing that he had accidentally fallen asleep while studying. Marik rolled up into a sitting position, shaking his head slightly as he tried to wipe all lingering traces of sleep from his face. Based on the positioning of the sun, it looked like it was just after noon.
The repeating chorus caught Marik's attention as he realized someone was calling him. He glanced down at his phone. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that it was Ishizu trying to FaceTime him. Typically Saturdays were too difficult for his siblings to swing in a call, so this was a pleasant surprise. And as much as Marik would have liked to gone back to him apartment to take this call, he knew the time difference probably meant this wouldn't be a long chat.
Marik answered the call, his face lighting up as he saw his two siblings sitting at the familiar kitchen table. "Marik! Hi! How's it going?"
Marik's grin widened at the familiar language his siblings spoke. Oh how good it felt to hear those familiar cadences on his ears again! "Ishizu! Odion! I'm doing great! What's new in Egypt?"
Marik saw how Ishizu seemed to relax at that comment, though even through the grainy image, he saw something pinched about her smile. Something was troubling his sister again. Ishizu was often consumed by some concern or worry. It was a good thing Odion was there to keep an eye on her though – he always seemed to know how to mellow her out. "Things are good over here. I just got back from a conference today and things finished up earlier than I thought they would."
"That's neat. Did your conference go well?" Marik shifted, holding the phone still as he moved to lie on his stomach.
"Exceedingly well. We discussed possible ways to preserve the oral traditions prior to the 19th century and met with several musicologists on their thoughts on the matter-"
Odion chuckled, interrupting Ishizu's tangent. "Ishizu, perhaps we could discuss work another time?"
Ishizu blushed, catching herself as she glanced away. "Oh right. Sorry. You were asking to be polite, weren't you Marik?"
Marik laughed, feeling more relaxed and at ease than he had felt in ages. Speaking his native language was like sweet honey on his lips. "Don't worry Ishizu. It's endearing how excited you get about your work. Not everybody is so lucky to find a job they love."
Ishizu ran her hand down her braid, shifting it over her shoulder as she accepted her brother's compliment. "Thanks Marik. Enough about me. How's school going? Will you be able to finish your degree come May?"
The sense of peace and relaxation Marik felt quickly disappeared as his chest clenched up. His worries and anxieties returned tenfold. "Yeah, it looks like it… I'm still figuring what I'm going to do afterwards. I might go home but I'm not sure yet…"
There was an awkward pause, Marik looking away from the camera so that he could pick at the grass. He plucked at the green blades, hearing Ishizu inhale as if to speak. Odion, however, beat her to the punch. "Take your time, brother. You don't have to decide yet. Just think about all your options and let us know what you want to do. You know we'll support you whatever you choose to do."
Marik smiled weakly, thankful that Odion spoke. He knew that Ishizu likely would have made him feel more anxious. That being said, Marik couldn't shake the shadow on him. Would his siblings support him knowing he was agnostic, drank alcohol and dated college boys? He wanted to think they would, but it was a far cry from the reserved, obedient little brother they had known four years prior.
Ishizu interrupted his thoughts, her eyes glancing at something behind Marik. "Hey Marik, is that a friend of yours?" Ishizu spoke softly so as to not be caught gossiping about this new stranger.
Marik furrowed his brows, glancing over his shoulder. He noticed another student whose appearance was not all too unlike himself. He too had a dark complexion and blond hair, but his hair was far wilder than his own. He appeared almost crazed in a way, his hair standing up in a set of spikes, with a black choker and wristbands to match. The stranger snapped his head away, his lavender eyes watching over park guests nonchalantly.
Marik rolled his eyes before turning back. He had grown accustomed to Americans staring at him whenever he started speaking Arabic. He had gotten used to the snubs and wide-eyed stares by rude eavesdroppers. "No, I've never met him. Probably another student here in the park."
"Oh, okay. He was looking this way a lot."
Marik chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows. "Americans do that. They don't understand shit. The joys of being in a country where pretty much everybody is monolingual."
Ishizu looked like he was about to reprimand Marik for the harsh remark, but Odion snorted before she could remark. Marik's grin widened as Ishizu turned her head to glare at their elder brother, who was struggling to keep a straight face. Despite being thousands of miles of away, it felt like they were together physically. Marik felt such a strong ache at the thought, finding his breath short and his eyes burning all of a sudden.
Realizing that he was losing his composure, Marik shook out his hair, giving himself a moment to gather himself. He let Ishizu guide their conversation, asking various questions to Marik while discussing other topics. She carefully avoided the big questions in Marik's life, which he was grateful for. They talked about everything and nothing, avoiding all potentially sensitive topics.
Eventually, Ishizu and Odion had to sign off, as it was starting to get pretty late into the night. Marik sighed, not sure if he wanted to keep talking or was just grateful for the break. He missed his siblings dearly and being able to talk about life in his mother tongue was cathartic, but he felt as if they were crossing a minefield. They were so delicate and careful as to not touch any tumultuous and divisive topics.
Marik waved goodbye, expressing his love for his siblings before hanging. He glanced at the phone battery, noticing how it was almost dead. Marik dropped his hand, letting it lay limp as he glared at the device. Smart phones made it easier to keep in touch with people but the battery life was still shit.
Marik sighed, sitting up as he went to go pack up his bag. As he put away his books, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. After a moment, he paused, glancing over his shoulder as he caught sight of violet eyes. It was the eavesdropper from his call earlier. This time, his fellow student didn't look away, a smirk on his face.
Marik frowned, somewhat annoyed by the stranger's voyeurism. "What do you want?" He demanded, dropping all sense of politeness or formality as he switched back to English.
The stranger just smiled, chuckling as he watched Marik.
Marik didn't have time for this. He tossed the last book into his bag before standing up to leave. "Jackass." Marik spat out in Arabic. The stranger just laughed out loud, his head tossing back as the light caught in his golden crown. Marik watched for a moment before storming away. He didn't care if this asshole figured out what he probably said – he was acting like an asshole. It was the truth.
Marik eventually wandered to the library, realizing he would have to make up for lost time. Any hopes of catching up with Joey and playing video games had been lost when he accidentally fell asleep studying. He had lost the entire morning and would have his work cut out for himself especially since he took that call from his siblings. That really had set him back.
Marik plopped himself down at one of the study desk, zipping open his bag as he grabbed his economics textbook. Regardless of his lack of studying, he refused to see that call as a waste of time. He had desperately needed to talk to his siblings. Even though he still hadn't worked up the nerves to tell his siblings anything of importance going on in his life.
That call also revealed a difficult struggle in his own life. Every time he spoke to siblings, he became more and more aware of the differences in their life. From what he wanted to achieve and wanted to be versus what they wanted in his life. And as Marik realized more and more that he would never be happy trying to achieve that ideal, that didn't stop him from foolishly wishing to be back home with his family.
Even if it meant the end of his own ambitions and dreams.
Marik sighed, reaching down to pull out his mathematical theory textbook. He blinked as he didn't feel the other paperback book. He looked down into his bag, checking as he spotted his other business textbooks and his notes. He sighed, annoyed as he realized that his missing textbook was likely still outside on the grass.
Marik brushed past a group of students gathered by the entrance of the library, feeling pissed at himself. He wandered through the park to where he last was, searching for his missing textbook. To his surprise, it still wasn't there. That was odd considering Marik remembered trying to read it this morning before he fell asleep.
"Looking for this?"
Marik blinked as he turned around, the stranger from earlier still sitting on the park bench. He didn't bother looking up from the math textbook as he casually read the book. Marik doubted that this asshole understood what he was reading, though that didn't matter. Marik knew he was doing it to mock Marik.
Marik sighed heavily, walking up to the stranger. He stared down at him until lavender eyes met his. The fact that they had the same eyes was especially odd to Marik. He stuck out his hand, surprised when the stranger actually gave him back his book. He raised an eyebrow but decided not to push his luck. "Thanks."
The stranger just shrugged before standing up. "No problem."
Marik shifted his bag down onto the bench as he went to put away his textbook. It took a full second before stopping, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. He snapped his head back, standing upright as he stared at the stranger. "Wait…"
The stranger smirked but didn't say anything. He shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Marik. He smiled as if he was waiting, no, hoping that Marik would piece it together.
Marik swallowed before taking a deep breath. "There's no fucking way…"
The stranger's smile just widened, an arrogant smile on his face. "Oh but there is."
Marik blanched, stepping back as he stared in shock. This was the first time, the very first time, in three and a half years that he met someone who spoke Egyptian Arabic. There were never any other students his year from his home country and the necessity to speak English everywhere shoved the possibility of finding another speaker to the side. This was incredible and exciting.
But it was also mortifying because that meant he had understood everything he had said to his siblings. That was why he had been watching him. He wasn't just curious because he heard the language – his eavesdropper was actually eavesdropping and understanding.
Marik groaned, stepping back as a hand covered his face. "Ah shit. I can't believe this is happening."
The stranger just laughed, amused by the whole scenario. "Afraid so. Perhaps this country isn't as monolingual as you first thought."
Marik dropped his head, not wanting to find out how much of his blush was now apparent on his face. This was humiliating in every sense of the word.
His bilingual companion finally decided to spare him a little. "I'll have to apologize for eavesdropping. It's not every day I get to hear my native language around here."
"How much of my conversation did you listen to?"
"… All of it."
"God damn." Marik leaned his head back to stare at the sky, doing everything he could to avoid looking at the stranger. He was starting to feel less mortified and more pissed at the stranger for doing this to him. There was no way he was supposed to know that this jackass understood what he was saying. Had he known, he might have conducted himself differently. "I suppose I should be grateful I didn't talk about anything too embarrassing with my siblings."
"So I noticed. Which is a damn shame. I was hoping to get some juicy gossip out of you, like comments about how attractive I am from you or your sister."
Despite the entirely awkward scenario, Marik couldn't help laughing. "Ishizu's dating someone right now, so nice try. And I know when to keep my mouth shut."
The stranger's smile widened, eyes narrowing as he leaned in slightly. "Oh? So you're saying that you think I'm hot?"
Marik blinked, realizing the implications of his statement. He snapped his head back, scowling to cover up his embarrassment. "No! That's not- stop reading into nothing, jackass!" Marik felt himself shift into English, as if to subconsciously distance himself from their conversation topic. This just made his eavesdropping companion laugh more, switching into English as well.
"Relax. I was just teasing. The name's Namu by the way." Namu nodded his head, shoving his hands into his pocket. He didn't bother sticking out his hand to shake as if it wasn't worth the headache of mundane introductions. Especially given the circumstances of their meeting.
"… Marik." He wasn't sure why he conceded, but perhaps Namu wasn't completely off regarding his level of attractiveness. Anybody else, Marik would have dismissed and been done. But he couldn't help be drawn to the muscular man in front of him who spoke Egyptian Arabic. The shock of their introduction wore off as Marik considered Namu with more interest.
Marik stared at Namu's face, who didn't shift away. Instead, he met his steady gaze, the two observing each other. Despite how similar the two initially looked, Marik noticed the finer differences between them. Namu's strong was stronger, his nose slightly knobby as if it had been broken before. His eyes were a shade darker than Marik's and his lips were broader. Even with these differences, Marik found he liked these small details. He wasn't just some doppelganger to Marik. Namu was his own unique person, one that Marik was interested in getting know better.
Namu stared for a moment longer before glancing away, a wry smile on his face. "So… where in Egypt are you from?"
Marik wasn't sure why Namu switched back in Egyptian Arabic, but at the same time, he reveled at the possibility of speaking the language more. He figured it couldn't hurt to humor Namu for a bit longer. "Just outside of Cairo. I moved there with my siblings after my father died. What about you?"
"Alexandria. I grew up there until I was fourteen."
"Is that when you came to the States?"
Namu's eye twitched, glancing away as he watched other students at the park. He thought for a moment longer before speaking. "My parents died unexpectedly a few years prior. I was adopted by my guardian who had duel US citizenship and got my paperwork in order to move back to NYC with her."
Marik blinked, processing this information. That was one way to attain citizenship. It was certainly a grueling process to figure out. One that Marik was putting off as he considered his future options. "I see. My condolences about your parents. But at least you're a permanent resident here so that'll make post-college easier."
Namu didn't react initially. He remained frozen, his eyes flicking over to watch Marik from a profile. He sighed as he faced Marik, a frustrated look on his face. "Not quite. My guardian is a citizen – not me. I still have a few more years ahead before my road to citizenship is cleared. It's that's or go back to Egypt."
Marik couldn't help but be a little curious. Would it be pushy if he pried further? He figured there was one way to find out. "I'll take it that going back home to Egypt isn't something you're interested in?"
"Egypt's not home. Not anymore. But the US isn't quite home either. I don't know. It's complicated," Namu confessed, his expression no longer angry or smug. Marik saw a familiar gleam in his eyes, one of trepidation and concern. It was the same fear that often consumed Marik's thoughts as he tried to make sense of who he was now and where he was to go.
"Yeah… I know that feeling."
Namu returned his gaze back to Marik, who now averted his eyes. He felt his heart pounding loudly in his ears. Had it always been that loud? He heard Namu ask him a question over the thrumming, a small smile growing on his face. "What about you? You're a senior, yes? Are you going back home after you graduate?"
Marik furrowed his brows, staring at Namu. He didn't like to talk about his thoughts on returning home or staying overseas after graduation. He had always felt immense pressure from his friends and family to choose one or the other but it was more complicated than that. So Marik didn't understand why he was considering talking to Namu about this.
Perhaps it was because he was a stranger who didn't know him. Perhaps it was because Namu was also an immigrant from Egypt and would understand this struggle better than anyone else.
Perhaps it was because Marik's heart started to race when Namu smiled at him.
"I don't know yet. It's complicated. I miss home a lot. But there are a lot of things about home I don't miss. And I don't even know where to begin with telling my siblings that." Marik gave a short laugh, a barking noise that dripped with bitterness. "They would be disappointed to see how much of a secular heathen I've become the last few years."
Namu just raised an eyebrow, a somewhat bemused expression on his face. "Are your siblings really that judgmental?"
For whatever reason, that question startled Marik. "What? No, but… I've changed a lot in the last three years. I've learned a lot about myself. And I'm not sure if Ishizu and Odion would approve of all of these changes."
"What sort of changes are we talking about?"
"Well, I'm an atheist now."
"Starting off strong there. Can't get any worse from that, can it?"
"And I like bacon."
"Shit, Marik! Are you trying to break your poor sister's heart?"
The joke made Marik laugh, a grin breaking out on his face. Somehow, Namu's tease helped lightened Marik's mood and put things in perspective. Despite his fears that his siblings would not take all these changes well, it wasn't the end of the world.
Namu smirked, nudging Marik with his shoulder. He walked down the sidewalk, Marik mindlessly following along. "You're their brother. There's nothing you can throw their way that would make them disown you."
Marik smiled, though he felt nervous. He wasn't sure why, but he pushed forward, almost asking for permission for himself. "Even if I were gay?"
Namu blinked, glancing over to Marik on his right. Marik glared at the ground, eyes fixated in front of him. The pounding sound was back in his ears. He wasn't sure why he needed Namu's approval, but Namu had helped reassure him so far. Perhaps he could offer an outside perspective to his fears. It certainly had nothing to do with his racing heart inside his chest.
"I doubt you bringing home your boyfriend will change their mind. I'm basing this all off a Skype call I eavesdropped on for an hour, but your sister seems like the stubborn, protective type. She's not one to let family get away from her." Marik gave a small smile at that. If there was any way to describe Ishizu to a stranger, Namu had hit the nail on the mark.
Namu raised a hand, scratching at his chin as if thinking. "Though you'll probably want your first boyfriend you introduce them to be a charming guy. You know, leave a good impression of what to expect with their now gay sibling. Somehow intelligent, suave – knowing Egyptian Arabic would be a plus."
Marik raised an eyebrow, a lips twitching as if he wanted to smile. He kept a cool, neutral expression, not wanting to let Namu know his thoughts. Still, Marik was relieved to know that this wasn't just happenstance. Namu was intentionally flirting with him.
At least they were on the same page.
Marik let out a dramatic sigh, pouting as he pretending to think. "Damn. Where the hell am I supposed to find a guy like that?"
"The hell, I know. Welcome to the Monolingual States of America, home of the stupid and crass. You better start packing your bags for Egypt now." Namu shrugged, pacing ahead though Marik was certain he saw a light blush on his face. He smirked, pleased he could throw Namu off his game.
"I don't see any reason to rush. If anything, today's given me a lot to think about. Perhaps this country has a bit more to offer than I thought." Marik watched as Namu turned slightly, eyebrow raised. Marik glanced over him briefly, grateful that Namu was wearing a fitted t-shirt. Marik had been telling the truth to Namu – he had a lot to figure out in terms of his aspirations and hopes for his future.
And he certainly aspired to get Namu out of those clothes by tonight.
Marik winked as he stepped forward, a confident smile on his face. "I'm feeling pretty hungry. Wanna grab a bite to eat with me?"