"Isn't it nice to be one of the good guys for a change?", Ishizu had asked him as they watched Yugi and the Friendship Company walk away, "One of the heroes, dare I say"
Malik had smiled bitterly, closed his eyes and nodded.

It really wasn't.

The next week he had watched as the Millennium Items got buried into the desert, and he felt sick to his stomach. He watched them place the Rod next to Bakura's Ring and it took him a moment to realize the wet feeling on his cheeks were his own tears. Malik left after that, he wasn't supposed to see them hide the Items in the first place anyway.

When he got home and told Rishid he'd taken a job at the museum earlier that day, his brother had looked at him with so much pride and affection in his eyes that he almost wanted to throw up.
"Having a job is much more fulfilling that being a thief, isn't it?", Rishid had asked and once again Malik couldn't do much else but nod.

It was boring.

After a year of working the worst jobs at the museum, Malik had expressed his desire to start taking classes at the near-by university. He couldn't take the judgmental looks and hushed whispers of disapproval from the others at the museum anymore. And he knew this was his retribution for turning his back on the clan and abandoning his home, but he couldn't help thinking it was more than a little unfair. It had been a year already, for Ra's sake. He had been nothing but a hardworking, honest, perfect, good little boy for the past twelve months and yet they were all still mistrustful of him.

Maybe the studying would provide him with a distraction enough to make him forget about the ever-growing void inside his heart.

Ishizu and Rishid had thought it was an excellent idea and offered to help him pay for the classes he wanted to take, which Malik much appreciated even if he didn't really need the assistance.
He had told his siblings he'd gotten rid of the money he earned as the boss of the Rare Hunters, but in all honesty he had stashed the money away into several different bank accounts for later use.

"Maybe you should study archeology and history, brother", Rishid had suggested when Malik confessed he wasn't entirely sure what he actually wanted to study.
Ishizu had brightened up at the mention and nodded along, "That way you could help the museum later. You could maybe even help discover the untold stories of the Nameless Pharaoh"

Malik had barely held back a sneer, quickly twisting it into a halfhearted smile.
"Maybe I will", he said quietly, and neither of his siblings realized something was wrong.

The Pharaoh was the last person he wanted to think about.

Another year later Malik found himself in the midst of indeed studying archeology and constantly cursing himself for listening to Rishid. It wasn't anything interesting, he practically knew most of the things they were taught anyway and the only thing he had actually though interesting turned out to be something the professors knew nothing of. It made Malik mad for reasons he couldn't understand that none of the inadequate professors had ever even heard of Kul Elna. Though, he mused, it shouldn't come as a surprise. They were all too invested in their admiration for the great Pharaohs and other privileged ladies and lords to think about a poor village of bandits and thieves.

It had become disgusting how Ishizu never failed to point out how happy she was now that Malik was leading a completely normal life every chance she got and how Rishid expressed his relief over not having to worry about Malik getting into trouble. It was so suffocating Malik had told them he'd be moving out soon, he'd already found a nice enough apartment quite close to his university. Ishizu was reluctant to let him go, but in the end he convinced her by saying he'd come and visit often.

"I'm so proud of you, brother", she said on the day he moved out, "You're studying, moving into your own apartment. You're finally settling down to live your life"
Malik hugged her with further promises to pay them a visit soon and then walked away.

It didn't feel like he was living.

He was lonely.

Malik sat in the dark of his living room, eyeing the boxes – which were still full of his stuff despite him moving in half a year ago – in the corner of the room and tried to stave off a headache.
His cellphone vibrated on the small coffee table in front of him, but he didn't make a move to pick it up. It was either Rishid or Ishizu anyway. The sky outside was already dark, the moon hidden away by black clouds. The only source of light in the room came from the lights of cars constantly passing by the window.

It was quiet in the apartment, save for the sounds of the TV as the old couple living above him cranked it up to even hear anything and the screams of pleasure the whore of a woman next door decided to integrate into his evenings frequently. But Malik didn't hear anything at the moment. He stared at his phone without actually seeing, hunched in the same position on the couch he had been in for the past hour. Yes, he was lonely indeed. Malik wasn't good at making friends, other people made his wary and uncomfortable.

Bakura hadn't though, he thought bitterly. Bakura had made him pissed off, furious even. But Bakura had also made him happy in his own way. Bakura had been someone Malik could relate to in a weird, twisted kind of way. They had fought a lot, bickered even more, but in the end Bakura had always made him laugh and feel alive. Being partners with him had been exhilarating.

Bakura had always been there when he needed someone.

One ridiculously stupid, unbearably depressing day Malik rode his motorcycle all the way to where the Items had been buried and tried to dig them up with his bare hands.
He spent hours upon hours digging, sweat collecting on his forehead and slipping down the side of his cheeks and to his neck, soaking the back of his shirt. His hands and clothes and face were covered in dust and grime when he finally stopped for a while.

A five minute break and then he began digging again.

Malik wasn't even sure he was digging in the right place, but even with his breath ragged, his arms hurting and his throat burning with the lack of water he continued to dig deeper and deeper, desperate to find something. Anything at all.

His head was pounding with the unbearable hotness of the sun beating down on him and his eyes burned and blurred with unshed tears.
"Please", he whispered brokenly and never stopped digging.

When the night fell, cloaking the desert in complete darkness, Malik's fingers finally grazed something cold and smooth. He carefully picked up the Item with shaky hands and looked at the golden Ring illuminated in the moonlight. He choked on a sob and brought the Ring to his chest, cradling it.

"I found you", he whispered, voice raspy and barely audible, "I found you, Bakura"
Of course he knew the spirit wasn't in the Ring anymore, but the Item in itself brought him some peace of mind. Like he wasn't completely alone anymore. It filled a fraction of the gaping, empty hole in his chest.

He drove back home – a great feat considering the condition he was in, he later realized – and cleansed the Ring before taking a shower. That night he didn't sleep, no matter how exhausted he was. Instead, he sat on the couch with the Ring on his lap and fingers running on the smooth surface of the golden Item. Malik truly smiled for the first time in almost three years, "I finally found you, Bakura"

I'll bring you back to me.

Months passed and Malik never told his siblings about him having the Ring. He kept it carefully hidden, but every night he took the Ring out and talked to it about his life.
Malik knew he must look like a loon, talking to a golden ring, but he didn't care. It wasn't like anyone was there to see him. (Besides, whoever said he wasn't crazy?)

Whenever he had time between his studies and the work he'd picked up at a bar, Malik intensely researched for ways to bring spirits back to life. Most of it was all mumbo-jumbo, but he still tried everything, no matter how stupid it was. Eventually it was inevitable for his siblings to find out about the Ring though.

Malik was in the middle of cooking, the Ring keeping him company on the kitchen counter, when Rishid dropped by for a visit. Malik had given him and Ishizu their own keys for his apartment and he didn't have time to hide the Ring once he heard the door slam shut.

Rishid walked into the kitchen, greeting his little brother and when Malik stood frozen on the spot, he raised an eyebrow. Until his gaze landed on the Ring, that is.
"Malik…", he started, sounding almost pained and Malik felt a rush of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He put down the knife he'd been holding and turned to his brother.

"Look, I know it's bad", he said quietly, "But please don't tell Ishizu I have the Ring"
Rishid stared at him with a blank expression on his face, "How did you even know where it was?"
Malik shrugged, not looking at his older brother. He didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes. "I secretly followed the people who buried the Items and watched", he answered.
"You have to take it back", Rishid said after a moment of silence, "Malik, they were buried and hidden for a reason"

Malik shook his head and grabbed the Ring, holding it close to himself.
"I'm not taking it back, brother", he said, "I can't take it back there"
"Malik-", Rishid massaged his temples, cutting himself off before he said anything that'd make this even more difficult. Malik took advantage of the short silence and said, "I was going crazy"

He let out a huff of laughter. It wasn't an amused sound, more like one to cover up the shakiness of his breath.
"I was going crazy", he repeated, voice steadier this time, "The Ring is comforting, it's like he's actually here with me again and I'm not… I'm not completely alone"

Rishid looked at him in surprise, mixed with confusion. After a moment or two his eyes lit up in understanding though and his voice softened as he spoke, "Malik, you know Bakura isn't inside the Ring anymore"
"Of course I fucking know he isn't!", the blond male shouted, suddenly almost hysterical, "That's why I've been researching for every possible way for him to come back for months now! I even drew a fucking pentagram on my floor during full moon and placed the Ring inside of it while reciting a spell I found on the fucking internet – which didn't even work, as you can see – and I'm probably out of my goddamn mind, but yes, I know he's not inside the bloody Ring anymore" Malik winced at the end of his small breakdown for having confessed to actually trying that, he was still embarrassed and Rishid really hadn't needed to know about it.

A heavy silence befell them. Malik avoided Rishid's gaze, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. Rishid probably thought he'd gone completely crazy.
Finally the noise of a chair scraping against the floor broke the silence and Malik opened his eyes. He watched Rishid slump down on the only chair in the kitchen and then turn to look at Malik again, his gaze holding a quiet resignation.

"Fine", he said, "I won't tell Ishizu you have the Ring"
An intense relief flooded Malik's senses at the words that left Rishid's mouth. He smiled tiredly and went back to cooking, whispering, "Thank you"
"How did you even dig it up?", Rishid asked, eyeing Malik in a way that told the younger boy Rishid wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Malik grinned to himself, and answered, "With my hands"
Rishid's mouth formed an 'o' as he fell once more into a silence, trying to come up with something to say.

"Took me the whole day and a good portion of the night too", Malik said cheerfully before his brother could say anything, "I'm pretty sure I was lucky not to pass out and die of dehydration"
From the corner of his eye he saw Rishid press his head into his hands and heard the man failing to suppress a groan as he said, "You're impossible, you know that right?"

Malik laughed a little, making Rishid smile too.
"It's been a long time since I heard you laugh", he said to his younger brother, who looked curiously at him. Rishid's eyes softened with the next words, "Did you really think I didn't notice something was wrong with you?"

Malik gaped at him and hesitantly nodded. He hadn't known Rishid had noticed anything wrong with him in all these years. Rishid looked at him, unimpressed.
"I am the one who basically raised you, kiddo", he said, "I know you better than anyone"
Malik smiled sheepishly. He should've known Rishid would always be able to read him like an open book, no matter how hard he tried to pretend everything was alright.

"I won't help you on your mission to bring him back", Rishid said sternly, looking Malik in the eye, "But I will not tell Ishizu about it either"
Malik nodded with a relieved smile, "That's all I ask for, brother"

Rishid chuckled, earning a curious look from Malik.
"I might, however, link you a few good spells on Facebook you can try. Just to see if they work better than the last one", he said, barely concealing a teasing smirk as he watched his brother flail and blush. Malik glared at him, not succeeding on looking very threatening with his cheeks red as tomatoes.

"Shut up", he mumbled, only succeeding in making Rishid burst out laughing.
"I said shut up!", he yelled at his brother, embarrassed, but the older male simply kept laughing, "I have a knife, Rishid. I will use it"
The measly threat did little to make Rishid stop his stupid grinning for a while yet. Malik went back to chopping the vegetables, heat crawling up his neck and on his face, but he couldn't stop grinning either.

I'll be happy again. Wait for me a little longer.

Five years. It had been five years since the Items had been first buried, two years since Malik had dug up the Ring and a year and a half since Rishid found out about it. Malik hadn't found out a way to bring Bakura back and his determination was wavering. What if there was no way?

He hated himself for thinking like this, but he had tried literally anything and everything he could come up with, even the stupidest things, and nothing had worked. Malik was out of ideas now.
He realized he couldn't remember what Bakura sounded like, or what his touch felt like. Malik couldn't recall what it felt like to kiss him, or to fight with him. He didn't remember the feeling of butterflies in his stomach every time he saw Bakura.

It was a Friday evening and Malik was visiting his siblings. Ishizu had made koshary for dinner, and now Malik was lounging on their comfortable couch, staring at the TV and trying to remember everything about Bakura. It had been five years since Bakura disappeared, and Malik couldn't remember some of the things he'd loved most about the thief. It terrified him.

The doorbell ringing pulled him out of his thoughts though and a frown settled on his face. Rishid and Ishizu seemed to be just as perplexed by the late visitor as he was, and Malik got up from his spot, "I'll get it"

The doorbell rang again, making Malik sigh in irritation, "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!"
He ripped the door open, ready to tell whichever nosy neighbor or irritable salesman to go the hell home, but stopped in his tracks as his gaze fell on the figure of a tall male.

Grey, nearly white, shoulder length hair and tan skin. His red shirt was unbuttoned, revealing rock-hard abs and a muscled chest. The stranger's facial features were sharp, his lips twisted into an all too familiar smirk and a jagged scar ran down the side of his cheek, but what really drew Malik's attention were his eyes. Or rather, the painfully familiar look in those pale grey eyes.

Full of confidence and intelligence, mixed with mischief and a healthy amount of insanity.
There was only one person in the whole wide world who could have such a look in his eyes, and Malik inhaled sharply as he stepped back, eyes wide. The man followed him into the apartment, the smirk on his lips only growing.

"Heard you have my Ring", the man's voice was deep and Malik relished the sound. His eyes never left the other man's as he forced a sound to come out of his throat, "Bakura?"
He hated how his voice was so weak, so filled with emotion. His hands were shaking, breathing slightly irregular, and the man in front of his was completely unfazed. Malik hated it.

He heard a shocked gasp behind him, but didn't turn to look. Ishizu and Rishid had probably come to see what was happening since they hadn't heard Malik talking to whoever it was at the door.
"Who else?", the man – Bakura – asked, leaning on the doorframe. Malik made a choking sound, and it was all warning Bakura got before the younger male launched himself into Bakura's arms. Malik pulled him close, so close he couldn't even breathe properly, and he still needed him closer. Burying his face into Bakura's neck, Malik whispered, "You're back. You came back"

Bakura stood for a moment, slightly stunned at the raw emotion in Malik's voice, but then his lips eased into a smile. Not a smirk or a sneer, but an honest smile, and he wrapped his arms around Malik's waist, kissing the top of his head.
"Of course I came back", he said, running his hands through Malik's silken hair, "Who would ridicule and irritate you if I was gone, huh?"

Malik laughed, the voice muffled by Bakura's neck. The Thief King felt something wet land on his shirt and soak through, and it took him a while to realize Malik was crying. Holding the man tighter against his chest, Bakura looked over at the two Ishtars standing by the living room door and staring at them. Ishizu was outright gaping, her mouth hanging open and eyes big as plates, but Rishid was smiling gently. Bakura guessed Rishid knew about Malik and him, and averted his eyes.

"But- but Malik, what about your life, your studies and job and, and… everything?", Ishizu asked, after she recovered from the initial shock. She was still staring at them in disbelief though.
Malik found it amusing how she immediately just assumed he'd drop everything and go right back to being the 'big bad criminal' now that Bakura had come back into his life. Not that she was wrong, probably. If Malik knew Bakura at all – which he liked to say he did – the man would get bored soon enough and get back to stealing stuff. And Malik would, of course, follow him.

"You know", Malik said and turned to Bakura, "I've been thinking"
Bakura raised an eyebrow, still holding tight onto Malik's waist, "I hope you didn't hurt yourself"
Malik glared at him half-heartedly, and continued, "Heroism is completely overrated"
"Oh?", Bakura said, a smirk once again forming on his lips, "How so?"

Ishizu and Rishid watched the scene unfold in front of them in puzzlement. Malik chuckled, put his hand behind Bakura's head and pulled him in for a soft kiss. As their lips parted, he said, "After all, I'd rather be bad with you than good and all alone"

Ishizu's eyes widened at the words, obviously recalling the conversation they'd had five years ago before the burial of the Items. Her eyes softened, gaze shifted to the floor and a soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Maybe Malik would never be one of the good guys after all. Maybe he was a born villain, she thought as she once again looked at her brother and his lover. Maybe it was better for him than trying to be the hero.

"You'd better never leave me alone again", Malik said, "Or I'm gonna kill you. And then bring you back to life so I can kill you again"
Bakura laughed, and Malik reveled in the beautiful sound. He'd missed Bakura's cackling during these five years. Suddenly Bakura pulled his face closer and whispered against his lips, "I'm never letting you go, so you'd better get used to being a criminal again"

Malik only smiled happily when Bakura pulled him into another kiss.

Ishizu nodded to herself. Yes, it seemed fate had given Malik the path of a villain to walk on, but his brother didn't seem to mind. He looked happier than she had ever seen him in this lifetime.