Ningen

Summary: (Prequel to Ningyo) Bakura, a corrupt physician, finds himself drawn to one of the servers from a popular cafe, the sweet yet stubborn Malik. However, a violent murder sets off a series of events that cause their separate lives to slowly come together.

Rated: T

Genre: Romance/Mystery

Author's Note: Even though this is a prequel, I think you'd get more enjoyment reading Ningyo first, because a lot of things in this story will make you go "OH!" and "AH-HA!" and "SO THAT'S WHAT THAT MEANT!" and that's always fun, isn't it? I also won't spend a lot of time on what was already revealed in Ningyo, so...I really think you should read that first. It's short anyway.

Disclaimer: Yuugiou and all related characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. Malik's soul, however, is all mine.

-

1 – The Way We Were

Amane watched as her older brother tightened the last screw on a project he had been working on for nearly nine weeks, twisting the screwdriver until his fingers started to quiver. With a sigh, the fair haired doctor turned his creation right-side up, revealing an extremely lifelike robotic chick, small enough to fit into her hand. After pressing a concealed button under the creature's yellow fluff, the small toy came to life, chirping and hopping across the table energetically, much to the youngest Kagami's delight.

"Oh, it's so cute Bakura!"

"And it doesn't need to eat or poop, which means you can have a pet, and Ryou can have what's left of his sanity." The elder sibling said smartly.

"Very funny," his twin pouted, shoving the other playfully. The twenty-four year old brothers, while very similar, had slight differences that made it easy to tell them apart. For one thing, Ryou was younger (by three minutes), shorter and had a more innocent look than Bakura, who always seemed very intense. Both had stark white hair, though Bakura's looked somewhat 'sharper' than his brother's. The most notable difference was their personalities, which were clearly polar opposites.

"I wouldn't have minded a real chick..." Ryou continued. "I might've been able to make some fantastic stew in about five month's time..."

"Ryou!" Amane whined, hazel eyes watering.

"I'm only joking," he laughed, allowing the chick to perch on his finger. "This is really good Bakura. You should consider a job in the toy industry if you ever get fed up with all those patients." The bird hopped towards Amane, who nearly crushed it in excitement.

"I got fed up with patients a long time ago," Bakura grumbled, sweeping his tools back into an already disorganized drawer. "If the money wasn't so good I'd have quit after the hundredth eventual widow begged me to keep their comatose spouse on life support..."

Ryou elbowed him irritably, nodding towards their younger sister. "Not in front of Amane."

"Yes, because complaining is a horrible thing for a fourteen-year-old to witness."

"She's sixteen," the shorter twin scolded. "I know you're not exactly a people person, but you're good at your job. If it means dealing with a few overbearing wives–"

"And husbands, and children, and neighbors, and LAWYERS..."

"Bakura," Ryou said reasonably, "if you hate it that much, then just quit. Sure this sort of thing doesn't make as much, but..."

"And that's all you care about isn't it?" Bakura hissed, making sure Amane had gone upstairs. "You always say I'm free to do whatever I want, but then you tack on 'we'll just be poor again' at the end and guilt me into staying."

"I'm not trying to guilt you into anything, I'm just stating the facts."

"Here's an idea; why don't you go to college so you can make more than minimum wage?"

Ryou turned a bright shade of red and looked away, fighting the urge to smack his older brother.

"...You know I would have if I didn't have to take care of Amane."

"Well it's been seven years, she can take care of herself now," Bakura snorted, making sure there weren't any more metal scraps left under the table. "So what's your new excuse?"

"Bakura!"

"Look, just stop putting all this pressure on me and let me enjoy my damn day off."

"You aren't smarter than I am you know," Ryou said suddenly, cheeks still pink. "If mom had told you to take care of her instead, then I would've been the one making the money."

"But she didn't."

"But she could have."

"But she didn't."

"But she could have!"

"Okay." Bakura shrugged, moving to leave the basement.

"What do you mean okay?" Ryou protested.

"If mom told me to take care of Amane instead, then you would've just as easily gotten the same scholarships as I had to pay for college. Oh, and you could've worked for six days a week to make up for the rest while still managing to finish med school two years early. Yup. We're totally equal." A sarcastic sneer. "That's what you want me to say, right?"

"You're such an asshole," the younger twin whispered.

"Careful; if you kill me, I won't be able to make any more money."

Ryou shook his head, fighting back tears. "I'd rather be poor than have to deal with your stupid, egotistical attitude for another minute."

"I'm sure," Bakura replied, still wearing that condescending smile. "You want to eat out tonight? I didn't see any food in the fridge."

The other sighed. Yet another emotional roller coaster shut down by an ill-timed change of subject. He really hated feeling so much resentment towards Bakura. Growing up Ryou had always been the better student, while his brother coasted through, satisfied with getting passing grades, too lazy to aim any higher. However, their mother had given the younger twin the responsibility of raising the then nine-year-old Amane before she had passed away. With Ryou anchored down by the young girl, Bakura was forced to step up and work harder, his already harsh personality getting more difficult to deal with. It was Bakura that got them to where they were today. It was Bakura who worked day and night to gain the reputation as a short-tempered yet highly skilled doctor. But Ryou clung to the belief that he could've done it too, if things had just gone a little differently. Call it bitterness, call it jealousy, call it whatever you wanted. But he refused to let it go.

"Are you coming upstairs or are you just going to sit there and glower for the rest of the day?" The older twin called out, leaning against the door.

"I'm coming," Ryou muttered, climbing the stairs, still looking down.

"You know Amane was telling me about a new cafe that opened up a few weeks ago," Bakura said conversationally, pretending the argument never happened. "I think it was called Honey Milk."

"Oh, I've heard of it... I don't think it's a place for kids though..."

"She's fourteen."

"Sixteen, and even then, she's still a kid," Ryou insisted.

"Killjoy."

"Maybe you and I can go check it out sometime...just to make sure."

"That's fine, but I was planning on eating tonight."

"There's always McDonalds..."

"Ugh."

"Or I can whip something up," Ryou suggested. "There's this recipe I've wanted to try out; all I need are some clams, an ounce of provolone, a bit of liver, and a few sprigs of parsley–"

"UGH."

"Okay fine, let's go somewhere," the younger twin grumbled. "Nowhere too expensive though."

"Alright, how about–"

Their conversation was interrupted by an electronic chime from Bakura's back pocket, followed by an uncomfortable vibration. The twins exchanged exasperated glances before the taller of the two placed his head onto the kitchen counter and moaned, the melody beginning to repeat itself.

"You should answer it," Ryou said sympathetically, poking the other's shoulder.

"Answer what? I don't hear anything."

"Someone could be dying..."

"It's a hospital, that's why people go there."

"Bakura! That's not true at all!" The younger twin screeched, blushing once again. "If they're calling you then it must a problem only you'd know how to–"

"There are thirty other doctors there," his brother whined. "I'm not the only one who knows how to use those little...electric shock paddle...things."

"Defibrillators?"

"There we go."

"Maybe it's not the hospital?"

"Let's pretend it's not."

"You might get in trouble..."

"I don't care. Ooh, let's have Italian tonight!"

"Uh..."

A high pitched beep sounded after the tune ended, signaling that a text message was sent instead.

"Wonder who this is," Bakura muttered grumpily, flipping his cell open. "Blah, blah, blah, administered morphine, blah, blah, hasn't been able to keep anything down, blah, blah, same shit, blah." He closed the phone with a snap. "Well that was fun. So, Italian okay with you?"

"But–"

"Or would you prefer Japanese? Though all the stuff around here's pretty Americanized," the older twin said disdainfully. "I'm sure I could make a more authentic meal...and I don't even know what ponzu is. I dunno, your choice. Amane will eat anything I think."

"I..." Ryou was about to protest yet again, but the sincere look on his brother's face made him rethink his actions. Finally, he gave up and smiled, almost laughing at himself for doing so. "Actually, I'm kind of in the mood for a hamburger."

"Is that what we're having for dinner tonight?" Amane interrupted, coming downstairs from her bedroom, the robotic bird on her head. "Because I kind of wanted some pizza..."

The twins exchanged glances yet again. Sometimes their little sister had the greatest ideas.

"Perfect, we'll just order in," Ryou said happily. "Cheap, easy, and Italian."

"Saying pizza is Italian is like saying hot dogs are German," Bakura muttered.

"After dinner Bakura and I are going to check out that new cafe in downtown. You can stay here by yourself, right?"

"Why can't I come?" the teen complained. "I was the one who told Bakura in the first place!"

"Because Ryou thinks it's raunchy and doesn't want your virgin eyes tainted by the nipples of naked women. Apparently he also thinks you've never looked at yourself without any clothes on." He whispered the last part, causing the girl to stifle a laugh.

"I didn't say that it was raunchy, I just want to make sure that it wasn't," the other explained defensively.

"Every restaurant is a strip club until he says it isn't."

"Well, you can't be too sure these days..."

"You sound like an old man," Amane pouted.

"Amane, not you too!"

"Can I order the pizza before this escalates?" Bakura grumbled, waving the phonebook in the air. "Ryou, what do you want on yours? Bacon?"

"Actually I just wanted cheese..."

"Okay, bacon–"

"I don't even know why he bothers to ask me," Ryou sighed, making a face.

"Alright, so I have meat lovers for me, pineapple for Amane, and crust...eh, I mean cheese for Ryou, right?"

"Yes," the other two siblings replied, though one more enthusiastically than the other.

"Cardiac arrest, here we come," Bakura muttered.

-

Mahaado was the eldest son of the Inanna family, famous for their shrewd business technique and almost supernatural ability to predict the drop and rise of the stock market. Because of this, they had become one of the most notable names in the marketing world, with companies large and small fighting to gain their partnership. However, upon the death of the family's patriarch, the remaining sons, uninterested in continuing their father's successful legacy, split the remaining millions between themselves and their mother before going their separate ways. The countless businesses connected to the Inanna name faltered and eventually died; a consequence that hardly kept the brothers from sleeping at night.

At the age of twenty-six, Mahaado was a fairly successful lawyer, making less than a quarter of what his father did, but his income was still nothing to sneeze at. Despite his wealth, Mahaado still kept close tabs on his sealed savings account, which contained a large portion of his father's inheritance. Two days prior, he had noticed $500 missing; pocket change to someone who had grown up surrounded by wealth, but missing money nonetheless. His first and only suspect was his younger brother, Mariku.

While Mahaado had taken after his father in terms of work ethic and even appearance, the younger Inanna took after their mother in that both were natural blondes despite being Egyptian (a feat in and of itself) and both were so used to having things handed to them that they couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help anyone but themselves. Mariku was twenty-three, attended college on and off depending on his mood, and was infamous around the Los Angeles social circuit. The brothers hadn't spoken to each other since their father's death four years ago, but he had learned from their mother that his younger sibling had been living in loft a few minutes from the downtown area. By simply asking around local bars, he had discovered both his brother's building and room number, which was both convenient and worrisome.

As the elevator doors opened to the third floor of the complex, Mahaado stepped out and looked around, referring to a small slip of paper to remind himself of Mariku's room. Admittedly, he was relieved his brother had opted for a modest loft instead of a multi-roomed mansion, as the younger Inanna had been somewhat spoiled growing up.

He stopped in front of a large white door, a gold plated 14 bolted to its center. Before ringing the doorbell, Mahaado looked around the empty hallway and pressed his ear against the painted wood, trying to figure out what was happening on the other side. It was quieter than he would've thought, the muted sounds of a television being the only distinct noise he could hear.

Finally, Mahaado pressed the small button next to his head, a pleasant chime sounding from the inside. There was a short wait as a number of chains and locks clinked and clattered on the other side of the door. When it opened, a pair of hazy plum eyes met his own cobalt, half lidded and just as uncaring as ever. While Mahaado had a very approachable, conservative look, Mariku had always donned edgier appearance; his sandy blonde hair rarely un-spiked, his eyes rarely without eyeliner.

"Wow. It's you." Was the lukewarm welcome.

"It's been a while Mariku," Mahaado said courteously, though slightly miffed. "How have you been?"

"Why are you here?"

"Is it so wrong for one brother to visit another unannounced?"

"Yes, it is."

"I just wanted to drop by and say 'hi,' you know? You've grown since I saw you last."

"No I haven't," the blonde sneered. "It's so pathetic watching you struggle to find something to talk about. Just do whatever you have to and slip back into the dark recesses of my past."

"Do I detect a sliver of animosity?"

"Perhaps. So did you blow all your money at the races, or what? Cut the pleasantries and just get to the point."

"Will you at least invite me in?"

"I would, but I currently have a semi-permanent house guest napping in the bedroom."

"You never told me you had a live in..."

"Why would I? It's not like you've ever asked," Mariku sighed, fiddling with the ends of his pant's drawstrings. "I was going to mention him in this year's Christmas card, but..."

"So it's a guy then?"

"If you can call him that," the blonde blinked. "Sometimes I get confused myself."

"How old is he?"

"..He's legal."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Mahaado hissed, eyes narrowing.

"It means if anything happens, I won't be charged with statutory rape," Mariku shrugged. "I met him at a concert a few years back; we've been dating for about two years."

"I can't tell if you're being serious or not..."

"I like it that way."

"As long as I don't get any phone calls from the police in the middle of the night," the older brother grumbled. "Anyway, the reason I came over was to inform you of the five hundred dollars missing from my savings account. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it would you?"

"You're so quick to judge."

"Well? Did you take it or not?"

"I didn't," the blonde snapped. "Why the hell would I take money out of your savings? I know your PIN number for God's sake."

"You...wait, what?"

"Don't worry, I still have a good chunk of Daddy's money left. I won't be borrowing from you for at least another three months." He placed a hand on the door. "So is that all you wanted, or did you plan to stay for dinner? Tonight's menu consists of beer, popcorn, and strawberry ice cream."

"I thought you hated strawberry?"

"I do, but my vagabond lover can't get enough of it."

"For some reason, I can't picture any creature with enough patience to tolerate your stupidity," Mahaado sighed. "Would meeting him be too much to ask?"

"I don't need you to give him your stamp of approval," Mariku bristled.

"Is it a crime for me to know what kind of people my darling little brother has been associating himself with since father died?"

"In this county it is."

"Mariku," a drowsy voice called from inside the loft. "Where are you?"

"Just getting rid of a salesman," the blonde responded, inspecting his nails. "Well Mahaado, if you're not staying over, then might I suggest going to the police about the money? They're there to help regular citizens like us you know."

"Is that him?" Mahaado asked quietly, pointing to the figure that had just come into view.

The young man was dressed in a simple hooded tank-top and a pair of dark jeans. He was thin, almost too thin; if it weren't for a few toned muscles on his arms, Mahaado might have been tempted to buy him a large sandwich. His long, light blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, an oversized barrette used to pin it to the back of his head. Large lilac eyes, still clouded with sleep, peeked through long bangs, a blank expression on his delicate face.

A yawn.

"Wow, this salesman looks even more shady than the one that came yesterday. So what're you selling? Knives? Because we've got plenty of those, all shapes and sizes too." His expression suddenly turned rather frightening. "Wanna see?"

"I'm not here to sell you anything," Mahaado replied shortly, eyeing his brother. "However, I would like to ask you a few questions."

"Is this normal?" the small blonde asked Mariku dully, receiving a shrug in response.

"What's your name?"

"Malik Ishtar," he answered, tossing his bangs back.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

"How do you know my brother?"

"Oh! So you're Mariku's big brother huh?" Malik smiled. "Well if you must know, we met at a concert three years ago."

"And how long have you been dating?"

The small blonde scoffed. "Well that's private information, isn't it? Besides, our lives are probably super boring compared to yours; you work at a transvestite bar, don't you? How's that working out? It sounds exciting."

"WHAT?"

"Aren't you the gay cross-dresser Mariku told me about? Unless there's a third son..."

"Excuse me, but I am not the one with the boyfriend!" the eldest Egyptian protested. He shot a death glare towards his younger brother, who was doubled over in laughter. "You know I like women, you used to drive away my dates all the time!"

"Still, you haven't denied that you cross-dress." Malik said seriously. "I know I look pretty ambiguous (well, more pretty than ambiguous, hee!), but at least I know that dresses are for women only." A smirk. "That is, unless the situation calls for one."

"What else has Mariku told you about me?"

"This isn't about Mariku and I, this is about helping the inner you that's struggling to escape the restrictive male role you've been born into. It's okay Mahaado, let it all out!" Lilac eyes glinted mischievously. "Or should I say Mahaara?"

Mahaado blushed as Mariku flashed a toothy grin.

"I can see why you two get along so well," he said finally, face stiff. He checked his watch. "Sorry Mariku, I'm afraid I can't stay for dinner, I have to get going–"

"Hold on, you're a lawyer, right?"

"Oh, so he did tell you something useful."

"It's always nice to know that you have a lawyer on hand just in case you want to sue someone for looking at you funny," Mariku said solemnly. "I've done it twice, won both cases."

"Ugh."

"May I have your business number?" Malik asked, grabbing a small black cell phone. "I might be calling you in the near future."

"Because?"

"Because I work at the Honey Milk Cafe."

"I've never been there," Mahaado blinked, unsure what the blonde was getting at.

"Oh, you should really come over whenever you have a case drought," Malik smiled. "A lot of the other employees would appreciate it as well."

"What kind of–?"

"Don't you have a shift tonight Malik?" Mariku interrupted.

"I...Oh shit. What time is it?"

"Ten to nine."

"Ack! They said they'd fire me if I showed up late again! I wonder if I'll be able to run over there in five minutes... Oh well, it was nice meeting you Mahaado," the smaller blonde waved, hastily throwing on a light jacket. "Don't wait up for me Mariku!"

"I never do," the larger blonde sighed, watching the other run out the door. "Be careful!"

"So...what kind of place is the Honey Milk Cafe?" Mahaado asked as Malik's rapid footsteps descended the building's stairs.

"It's a host restaurant," Mariku said bluntly.

"A...'host' restaurant? You mean like a–?"

"Patrons walk in, choose a host, and get entertained for a set amount of time. They've got a no touch policy, but needless to say, some of the guests get a little overzealous." An impish grin. "It's about two steps away from prostitution, but all the books say it's perfectly legal! And the pay isn't all that bad too. I'd apply if it weren't for the fact that I'm already stinking rich."

"And you're alright with him getting fawned over by random strangers? Funny; I'd always pinned you down as the jealous type."

"Oh, I am," Mariku asserted, his smile turning slightly manic.

Mahaado laughed nervously.

"Well, I should stop by the police to–"

"I took the money you idiot."

"What?" the elder Inanna blinked. "But...you just said...I KNEW IT WAS YOU!"

"Well, who else would it be? I just didn't want to tell you while Malik was here because..." A blush. "Listen, he's been having some financial problems lately; he's got this hulking stepbrother that's been in the hospital for almost nine months, and their insurance company's stopped paying all the medical bills. I've been trying to help him out on my own, but if this keeps going on, I'll be broke. So...taking that money was just a one time thing alright? Just forget about it and I'll pay you back later."

"Doesn't he have anyone else to leech money off of? Mariku, just because he's living with you doesn't mean you're required to–"

"Both of his parents are dead; he's got an older sister running one of the main museums in Egypt, but she's cut off all ties with them. That ogre in the hospital has been taking care of Malik since he was just a kid. I know you think I'm callous, but–"

"Oh I don't think you're callous Mariku, I think you're stupid. How do you know he's not just digging for gold? Say he meets someone with more money at that little job of his; do you really think he'll stay with you? Honestly, you always act so tough and cool, but you're really the most naive–"

Mahaado was silenced by a solid punch to his mouth. He brought a shaking hand to his lips, finding a light trickle of blood. His brother's usually indifferent plum eyes were wild and almost terrifying.

"Say that again, I'll kill you where you stand."

"Mariku, you're overreacting."

"Don't come barging into my life after four years of nothing and start calling me naive! You want to pretend you know me, then go the fuck ahead! I don't care what you tell the rest of the family, they all hate me already. But don't you dare start accusing Malik of being like that! You think the only reason someone would want to be with me is because I have money?"

"I..." Mahaado paled, realizing his poor choice of words. "No wait, I didn't mean it like that!"

The blonde sighed heavily. "Just get out of here Mahaado. I'll send you a Christmas card."

"But–!"

Mariku promptly slammed the door in his face.

-

I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long for this; please take a short moment to drop me a review, this chapter was rewritten too many times for me to count.

Besides, this is the first chapter, and I really need some feedback; after all, this was originally going to be a single chapter in Ningyo, but I was nice enough to make it a story in and of itself.

However, if I see there isn't much interest in it, the first option is still very much available to me. (HINT HINT)