A/N: Guess who reread a decent chunk of the Battle City arc instead of doing finals a few months ago? It was meeeee. Comments super appreciated!
Marik's not entirely sure how he feels.
Confused. Relieved. Warm, now that Rishid made him put on a jacket once the shoreline slipped away and the spray of the sea splashes against the side of the boat. Cold, deep down in a way no clothes can fix.
Empty.
Empty without the weight of the Millennium Rod tucked in the belt loop of his pants, empty without the other self he hadn't realized existed until mere days ago. Empty without the purpose of revenge, and empty with the realization it had never been warranted.
He'd wandered around the boat for a while, but the one magazine he'd found was in Japanese and the kana made his eyes hurt if he puzzled over it for too long. He'd gotten decent at speaking the language but the writing hadn't really clicked yet.
Sitting still too long made his legs bounce and his fingers wander, and more than once they prodded at still-sore bruises from the fight with the Pharaoh, so he took to pacing.
Then, to staying on the stern of the ship, watching the waves slip into the ocean.
"Are you all right?" Isis rested her arms against the rail, eyes fixed on him.
"I'm fine." Marik sighed. "I'm just not sure where we're going to go, after all of this."
"That's all right, you know." She smiled softly. "I'd much rather we figure it out together. Is there anything in particular you'd like to do?"
"I want to get Lady Death tuned up, and pick up some more clothes. I've been wearing this for…" Marik tugged at his shirt, but then blinked. "How many days has it been? It was hard to tell as… as…" The sentence trailed off.
"A few." Isis said quietly. "I don't believe he ever felt the need to change."
"Right." Marik unhooked one of his earrings, rolling it around in his fingers. "Isis… how much of it was me?"
"What do you mean?" She had frozen, hands curled tightly into a ball before relaxing inch by inch.
"I know that it wasn't just the Rod. If it had been, Rashid or you would have-"
"Marik, it is pointless to dwell on the past." Isis set a hand on his arm, squeezing just above where the golden band was hidden under his jacket sleeve.
"If only I'd listened to you saying that ten years ago," he muttered, suddenly tempted to throw the earring into the water just to hear the splash it would make.
"We're going to go home to Egypt, and I'll continue my job, and perhaps you and Rishid can find one as well." Her smile was back, but this time, there was a strain that made Marik's chest ache. "It will be warmer, and the marketplace will smell like bread, and after the Pharaoh finds his destiny, we can close the tomb and move on together. As a family."
Marik took a deep breath, then turned to look out at the water, as the foam from the boat receded into calm.
"I think I'd like that."