GREY AREA
Malik was in his soul room again. He snorted; this was what his soul looked like? It was a dark room with a blocked out, locked up window and a floor layered in dust. Is that what truly represented his soul? Something so dark and full of regret and desolation that you would sooner believe it belonged to a dying man than to a teenager; A teenager with so many hopes and dreams, so many possibilities? He hated seeing his soul room like this, but it was still the only place he could truly be alone and, therefore, safe.
He glanced around the familiar setting; the room was just small enough to be stifling, and dim enough to cast strange shadows at odd angles on the floor – it looked more like an abandoned closet than a room. In one corner there lay a rickety bed with pale sheets that were far too thin and scratchy to give any kind of comfort, in another corner there was a desk with a tiny candle - the only source of light, besides the crack in the blacked-out window, in the entire room. The room, Malik had once thought, was like a cross between his childhood room in the tombs and the sparsely-decorated room he had in the apartment he shared with Rishid and Ishizu.
The only thing about the room that Malik liked was the door. Although it never opened, for the key was lost, it was still the only thing that brought any beauty or hope to the room. The reason for this was the phoenix. It was a bird with golden wings that reached past the edges of the door and spilled onto the wall in eternal flight. It was not a painting as Malik had thought when he had first come across it, no; it was a collection of thousands of photos of the only people and places and objects and memories that Malik truly cared about; Egypt, his motorbike, his god card, Ishizu, Rishid, Ryou, Bakura, and even one photo of his mother, who he could only barely remember. That mural was what made his soul room seem so safe to him, as if it guarded him from anything that could hurt him.
He had once heard the Pharaoh's other speak of his soul room - full of bright colors and childish games - yeah, that was Yugi alright, a joyous, innocent boy. Malik knew he was nothing like Yugi. No matter how much he wished he could be so free and pure, he would never be like Yugi. Yugi was everything Malik could want to be; trusting, loving and caring. Trusted, loved and cared for.
Anyone that knew Malik, from Battle City or otherwise, would be surprised that this dank and miserable room epitomized all that was Malik - his past, present and future; his feelings, hopes and pains. Outwardly, he was such a strong boy. He was gregarious, brave, outspoken and knew exactly what he believed in, at least, that was what everyone else thought. Malik had known for a long time that he was slowly falling apart. It was funny, if anyone had been asked, who, out of Yugi and his friends, would be the first to break, Malik would have been one of the least likely guesses. In fact, even Malik himself would have guessed that Ryou would have snapped first, but even the white-haired teen was doing better than Malik. Or maybe, he was just better at hiding the cracks?
This was what Malik came to his soul room to do: think. Think and hide. He resented that he needed such a sanctuary to hide from the world, like a frightened little child hiding in warm familiarity. Malik only ever acted truly frightened in that small, dusty room, with its peeling paint and broken furniture, it was his only place of comfort besides his siblings and his best friends. Where else could he go that his other couldn't anyway?
END
Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, see FANfiction, I therefore do not own the characters from Yu-Gi-Oh!
I'm reposting this 'cause last time it was up, I didn't know how to edit it and ended up deleting it instead. I wanted to write a Malik one-shot, although I have been considering writing this as a full story if anyone likes it :)
Reviews would be adored but I won't demand them, I want to know what you thought so feel free to point out every single flaw, I'm sure my ego will survive.