Mew: This is another one of my weird ones. I have a lot of weird ones. And it's long for a oneshot thingy, so only read it if you have time on your hands. –sweatdrop-
Draiku: You do have a lot of weird ones. And most of them have no plot whatsoever.
Mew: -sweatdrops again- Well, I swear that this one has a plot.
Draiku: Yeah, right.
Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or the process of cloning!
Spare Parts
Marik wasn't human. He looked like a human, could think like a human, was exactly the same as any human, yet he wasn't one. He was something feared by men and women alike, something that most would believe to be "dirty," or "rancid," or even "rabid." No one could trust him, not even to hold an ice cream cone while they picked up a penny by their foot. He was hated, feared, and shunned.
You're probably wondering what he is.
Marik is a clone.
"Spare parts," like most would call him. He was the clone of Malik Ishtar, a young boy who was born with a disease that would have killed him if it weren't for his luck and will to survive. Thanks to that disease, he was quite unhealthy, in fact, he could die at any moment. That was why Marik was created. Malik's parents loved their child too much, so they hired all sorts of health professionals and doctors to monitor Malik's health and help him if he was ill. But, they were still worried. So they created Marik, in case of an emergency. Marik didn't quite know the exact reason why he was created, and he was curious.
But Marik was a lucky clone.
Unlike most clones, Marik had an actual name, and not a serial number. He was a he and not an it because Malik's parents got a special court order. He wasn't kept locked up in a barn, he could go wherever he wanted to, as long as someone supervised him. He had his own room, bed, radio, computer, and he even went to school. Most clones weren't educated. No one would want to educate them.
But, like all clones, he had a serial number tattooed on his ankle. He hid this with an anklet whenever he went outside, mostly because he lived in a warm part of the country, and sandals were in style. His serial number was "000113.1." He was number one-hundred thirteen out of the first set of nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand-nine-hundred-ninety-nine. After that, the number would become "000001.2." So, as you can tell, clones weren't very common, even though the process of cloning was invented decades ago.
He was also lucky because he didn't look like Malik at all. Something had gone wrong with the hair and eye DNA, so his hair was spiked up and his eyes were blue while Malik's hair was down and his eyes were violet. But because of this, Malik's parents could pass Marik off as Malik's older brother. No one in their town knew that Marik was a clone except for the governor.
And Marik was like a brother to Malik. At first, Marik had been confused when Malik explained it to him only two years ago. Back then he appeared to be a little over six, though he matured fast. Now he looked like he was as old as Malik, and he would grow at a normal, human rate for the rest of his life. The scientists made him that way when he was a single cell, taken from Malik's skin.
Marik was still slightly disturbed at the idea that he had grown from a piece of skin, almost like a planarian, which, when you cut them in half, would grow into two new beings.
Today Malik and Marik were going to the beach. Marik had only heard of it, but he had never seen it, and wanted to go. Malik was telling him of the sea and the beach, and everything you could do there.
"…and you can also swim, and play games, and…I'm rambling, aren't I?" Malik asked with a blush and a smile. Marik laughed softly.
"Yes, kind of," he answered. He thought of the first time he had been swimming. His anklet had fallen off in the water, revealing his serial number. Someone saw, and pointed it out to everyone around him. Everyone there hated him, called him names, and tried to hurt him. That was only a year ago, when he looked like he was ten. It didn't bother him all that much, but one sentence remained vivid in his mind. "Ew! Since when did they allow spare parts to come here!"
Marik hated that most of all. He wasn't just spare parts, Malik called him "brother." And he had a name, so why didn't they call him that? And he wondered why so many people hated him in the first place. Malik's mother had told him that they don't understand, or that they were very passionate about their religion, which called cloning a taboo act. Thus, all clones were considered soulless beasts with no thoughts or feelings.
Marik hated these people. He also hated whatever god had told them to think that of him.
"Is something wrong, brother?" Malik asked. Marik blinked, noticing that he was clenching his fist and glaring. He stopped.
"No, it's nothing," he replied, shaking his head. Malik knew that this motion meant "I really don't want to talk about it," so he simply nodded and they kept walking towards the beach. Finally, after just two more blocks, they came upon it.
It was magnificent.
The sun was shining on the water, making it flash white. The water was a beautiful deep blue color and Marik swore that he saw a dolphin jump out of the water. Dolphins were rumored to be extinct, but Marik wasn't so sure about that.
"Well? What do you think?" Malik asked, grinning at Marik.
"Spectacular," Marik murmured. "Absolutely beautiful."
"Just wait till you see what it looks like from a plane." Malik led Marik to the shore. Marik was happy that Malik ignored the fact that he was a clone. No one else really did, and Malik's parents forbid him to call them "mom" or "dad." But Marik could call Malik "brother" as much as he pleased.
Marik toured the beach with Malik as his guide, listening eagerly. Malik pointed out food stands and such, and Marik noticed that everyone here seemed to be having a good time. It got later, and they sat on the beach, watching the sun set. Marik marveled at the different blends of color.
Malik lied down next to him, staring up at the stars. He pointed up with one finger towards one.
"That's the North star," he murmured. Marik knew that Malik adored the stars and planets. In fact, it was Malik's dream to become an astronomer. Marik looked up towards the deep blue blanket and saw an exceptionally bright star shining.
"And there's Orion the Hunter." Marik nodded, a silent reply saying that he understood and was interested. The heavens fascinated him, also. Malik pointed out other constellations and stars, then they tried to find some planets.
"We should go home, Malik. It's really late," Marik suggested. Malik sat up and nodded. They got up, walking home. Marik was proud of Malik, the boy was much healthier than he was a year ago, when he was bed-ridden. Marik shivered at the thought of Malik's erratic breathing when he was that ill. Now, Malik was out of the bed, walking, jogging, and even running. He was still quite brittle, although.
Marik noticed Malik beginning to tire.
"Do you need you asthma thing?" he asked. There were two forms of asthma, now. One that had been discovered recently, and couldn't be cured, unlike the other one. The first type affected only the lungs. The second type affected the lungs and the heart. Malik looked up at him, smiling.
"No, I'm alright," he replied. Marik nodded, though he knew that Malik's expression was fake. They walked on for a bit more until finally, Malik clutched at his heart, taking in a sharp breath. Marik quickly got Malik's asthma inhaler out of his pocket and put it to Malik's mouth. He pressed the top, and Malik breathed in the medicine. His once fretful expression became calm, and he opened his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Marik asked.
"Now I am. Thank you," Malik said gratefully. Marik nodded and steadied Malik. The medicine had a strange effect on someone; right after they took it, they'd feel tired and they'd stumble. Marik guessed that since it was a new type of medicine, it still had some missing or extra ingredients, and when they got into the blood system they affected the nervous center.
Marik decided to carry Malik. The teen was very light, after all, and Malik was stumbling quite a bit. He hurried home, and quickly took the boy inside. He lied Malik on his bed, bringing the blanket up to the boy's neck. Malik's eyes opened slowly.
"Thank you, brother," he whispered, smiling feebly. Marik nodded, smiling back.
"I'll go get your medications," he said. Malik nodded, and Marik left the room. He came back with a box that contained bottles with pills in them, liquid, and two syringes. He knew from experience that Malik liked to "just get over with" the needles, so he filled those first, and gave Malik the shots. After that, he gave Malik a dose of each of the rest of the medicines, and the boy fell asleep. One of them was a strong sleeping medication that would put Malik to sleep instantly, because when the other medicines did their jobs, it hurt. Marik sat next to him for a few seconds before patting the boy's shoulder, whispering "good night," and leaving.
-
Marik and Malik were walking to the store the next day. They had just received word that their parents would be at work longer than expected, so they had to take care of the house for the rest of the week. Marik suddenly noticed something. He looked to the other side of the street and his breath caught in his throat.
There, standing with his back against a building, smoking a cigarette, was a man with long, silver hair and sinister, slanted brown eyes. He wore a black T-shirt, jeans, sandals, and a bunch of silver necklaces.
"Wh-who's that?" Marik breathed. Malik looked over towards the man. He gasped himself.
"That guy's in town!" he exclaimed.
"Who is he, though?"
"That's Bakura, the leader of the Mafia! The old one recently died in a bomb accident, so he took over! Amazing!" Malik explained. He noticed Marik's gaze. "You like him?" Marik gasped.
"What? No, of course not! I'm not…" But Malik cut him off.
"I know that you do, Marik. I mean, look at him. He looks almost exactly like the guy I like," Malik murmured the last sentence.
"You like a guy?" Marik asked and Malik nodded sheepishly.
"Yeah. His name's Ryou."
"Oh, I've seen him before. You're his friend." Malik nodded again, blushing.
"Yeah, but we'll never get close. I mean, I'm a guy, for one thing, and I'm weaker than that kid in the ninth grade. You know the one, he has to have an IV in his wrist all the time just so he has energy." Marik nodded.
"You could try, though," he said softly. Malik shook his head.
"I could never! He'd…he'd hate me. And I'd rather have him be my friend than someone who ignores me." Marik shot one last gaze at the white-haired man. He sighed softly. He'd never get to be with him, not even if he tried. He was a clone, and clones weren't human. Bakura probably felt the same way about clones as most others did.
They walked into the shop and bought what they needed. When they came out, Bakura bumped into them roughly. Malik fell to the ground and whimpered in pain, sitting up. Marik was quickly at his side.
"Tch," Bakura said. "Weakling."
"Baka!" Marik snarled. "He can't help it! He's been ill his entire life! You could have killed him just now if you smacked into him any harder!" He helped Malik up, and quickly gave Malik his asthma medicine. Bakura noticed this.
"He has type two asthma?" he asked. Marik nodded, glaring at him. "I'm so sorry," Bakura murmured, bowing towards Malik. "I hadn't realized that. My father was killed because he had type two asthma."
"It's no problem," Malik said quickly, leaning on the bike rail for support.
"Yes, it is. Let me make it up to you. Um…here, hand me those bags you're carrying." Bakura stuck out his arms, spreading his hands apart.
"No, really, it's alright," Malik replied.
"I insist," Bakura said and took the sacks from Malik's hands gently. He began walking. "Now, onward to your place!" Marik and Malik hurried after him, each introduced themselves, and finally, they arrived back at their house. Bakura walked inside and set the bags down on the kitchen table. He looked around.
"Nice place," he muttered and observed the photographs. He blinked, raising one eyebrow. "Who's that? He looks kinda like you, Marik." Marik blinked. Marik saw a picture of him from two years ago.
"Oh…that was our younger brother. We had two, actually, but we lost them to cancer," Malik said. Bakura gasped.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. Even though cancer could be cured, anyone under thirteen couldn't have the treatment, because they would lose their lives during treatment. It was a risky process for anyone younger than twenty and older than eighty.
"No, it's not your fault," Marik said quickly. They chatted for quite a bit, and Marik noticed Bakura looking him over through half-open eyes. He blinked.
"Um…need something?" he asked. Bakura smirked at him.
"Mm, no." Suddenly, he shoved Marik up against the wall and kissed him passionately. Marik's eyes were wide with amazement. Bakura pulled away, licking his lips. "But I would like you." Marik's eyes widened even more.
"W-what!" he exclaimed. Malik was laughing happily, for Marik, of course.
"I want to be with you," Bakura murmured, staring Marik in the eyes.
"B-but, Bakura, we barely just met," Marik pointed out, though the little devil on his shoulder was telling him to tackle Bakura to the floor and undress him.
"So? I like you already," Bakura replied and kissed him again, this time gently. "Please?" Marik hesitated, and finally, he pulled Bakura closer to him, deepening their kiss. They pulled away and gazed at each other. Bakura looked to Malik, who was grinning at Marik.
"Malik, do you know someone named Ryou?" he asked. Malik blinked, nodding.
"Yes," he replied.
"He's ill with the flu, and he wanted me to give you this." Bakura handed Malik a folded piece of paper with Malik's name written in cursive on the front. "He said that he was going to tell you it at school today, but since he was gone he sent me to give you this." Malik unfolded the parchment, reading it aloud in a murmur.
" 'Malik—I was going to tell you this to you today, but I unexpectedly got ill with influenza. So my older brother, Bakura, should have gotten this to you.
" ' I don't really know where to begin, except that we've been friends for a very long time, since the third grade. Though we are both male, through the years I have grown…close to you. And what I mean by "close to you" is that I really like you a lot, Malik, more than friends would.'" Malik's voice was cracking as he read the paper.
" 'I will understand if you don't wish to be my friend any more, but I would miss you if you chose to do that. I would also understand if you hate me with all of your heart now that you've read this, but Malik, I will still love you.
" 'Thank you for reading this, Malik. Tomorrow, if I'm at school, and you don't like me anymore, it's alright if you don't say anything to me.
" 'Awaiting your answer—Ryou'" Malik finished the letter, now crying. He hugged it tightly, as if the letter was actually Ryou. He walked up the stairs to his room. Five minutes passed, and he came back down with a letter in his hands. "Bakura," he said, "could you please give this to Ryou?" Bakura smiled and nodded. He took the letter from Malik's hands and slipped it into his pocket.
-
Marik and Malik waved as Bakura left, Marik sighing blissfully. Bakura had invited him to dinner at a nice restaurant downtown.
"I suppose that today was a good day," Malik said softly. "For both of us." Marik nodded in agreement.
"He's a good kisser," he mumbled. Malik giggled at Marik and the two went inside together, both blissfully happy.
-
(Now for Ryou's small part.)
Ryou lied in his bed, wondering what Malik would think of him once he got the letter. He hoped that Malik wouldn't hate him, he didn't even know if he could live with that. He so wanted to be with Malik, his heart's desire.
He heard the door open, close, and be locked. He wondered if it was mom or his step dad, or maybe Bakura, who was now living with him once more since his old home was destroyed by fire. His bedroom door opened and he saw Bakura walk in. The older male offered a piece of paper to Ryou.
"I got the letter to Malik. I think that this is his answer," he murmured. Ryou nodded and read the paper.
"Ryou," it started, "I can't express how happy I am that you love me. I love you too, Ryou. I've loved you since third grade, but I guessed that you wouldn't want to be with me since I'm a boy. Thank you so much. I hope that you get well soon. The flu's no fun, hm? As much as I want to see you, I'm afraid that my mother and father won't allow me to. As you know, I can't visit people if they are sick, not even my parents. Thank you again, hoping to see you soon, --Malik"
Ryou lied down and held the letter to his chest, staring at the ceiling. Malik loved him. It didn't seem possible, the odds of it happening were very low. Ryou felt tears come to his eyes and he murmured a small "thank you" to Malik, wanting to see him now more than ever.
-
Marik sat, staring out the window of his room. He sighed deeply, wondering if Bakura would accept him, even as a clone. It didn't seem possible, no one liked clones. He sighed again, and finally fell asleep.
-
Malik came home happy the next day. He grinned, humming a mantra as he walked into the house. Meanwhile, Marik was trying on his best suit, looking in the mirror. Malik's mother and father bought it for him for whenever they had sophisticated parties. Since Malik's parents were very rich and well known, they had many parties.
Malik walked into his room, still grinning.
"Marik! All dressed up, I see?" he said. Marik smiled.
"Of course. My date's in only an hour, and I want to be prepared for it as soon as possible," he replied. "Was Ryou at school today?" Malik nodded.
"Yup, yup! He practically ran over to me and hugged me when he saw me at school in the morning. He was thanking me and then…we kissed. You were lucky that you got to take a day off, though. We had tests in every period." Students could take days off as "payment" for doing a good job in school. Marik was a top student, so he was taking one of his ten days off.
"Wow, congratulations, then," Marik said. He was happy for Malik. Malik had only one friend at school besides himself, and that was Ryou.
"He's a good kisser, too," Malik added. Marik chuckled softly.
-
Bakura stood in front of the restaurant, waiting for Marik to arrive. He was clad in a suit, wanting to look his best for the other man. He looked at his watch, looking at the time. Only six minutes until Marik would be late. He finally saw Marik hurrying to him. He smiled.
"Did I make you wait too long?" Marik asked. Bakura shook his head.
"Nope, just two minutes," he replied. They pulled into a gentle kiss and walked into the building. They sat across from each other at a table, getting ready to order their food. They were given water to drink while waiting. They chatted a bit.
"Hey, Bakura," Marik started. "Would you go out with a clone, if they were really nice and such?" Bakura snorted into his drink. He pulled it away from his face and burst out laughing.
"Of course not! Clones are only dumb animals that happen to look like humans. Heck, the entire cloning process is useless, entirely! Clones are only good for one thing, do you know what that is?" Bakura asked him. Marik shook his head. He never really knew why Malik's parents had created him.
"No, what?"
"Simple: Transplants. Let's say some guy has a bad liver, and he'll die in the next few months or so unless he gets a new one. So he creates a clone of himself. Exact same blood, tissue, DNA, everything of his current liver, except it's better. It's brand new, not damaged. They give the clone some medicine to make it age faster, and when it's old enough, they'll take it to the hospital and cut out its liver, then give it to the original. That's what clones are for. And that's why they're called 'spare parts.'"
Marik gasped in horror.
It couldn't be possible.
It just couldn't!
Malik's parents had lied to him. They said that he was created so they had an extra helping hand around for Malik.
It was a lie.
If Malik's organs, any of them, failed, Marik's organs could replace them.
That was the only reason why he existed.
Spare parts.
"But…I hear that they just passed a law saying that if the original of a clone dies before the clone does, the clone becomes human and gets a name. It even gets its tattoo removed from its ankle. And, they get a home and they even get the original's parents. Pretty strange, hm?"
Marik couldn't speak. He was barely even listening to Bakura.
The only reason why he was treated so well in comparison to other clones was because of Malik's parent's love for their son. They wanted Malik to have the best "spare parts" around.
Maybe Malik didn't care for him at all. Maybe he just called him "brother" so Marik would willingly give him his organs without a fight.
His entire life was pointless on his part.
-
Marik came home looking depressed. Malik was lying on the couch in the living room, reading a book. He noticed Marik walk in.
"How was it?" he asked.
"It was okay," Marik replied, not even looking up. Malik frowned slightly.
"What happened, Marik? Why are you so depressed?"
"No reason. It wouldn't matter, anyway," he said, going up the stairs. Malik set his book aside and hurried after him.
"Marik, what's wrong? It matters to me, why aren't you talking to me? You always do when something's wrong! Did he dump you or something?" he asked worriedly.
"No, not at all." Marik walked into his room.
"Then what's the matter?" Malik asked gently, placing his hand on Marik's shoulder. Marik glared at nothing. He suddenly snapped and flicked around, shaking Malik violently.
"You wonder what the matter is! My life is the matter! All I am to you and your parents are spare parts for you! That's the only reason I was created! My life is entirely pointless! It has no meaning! Then again, why would a clone, a stupid beast, need to have a life with a meaning! I'm just an animal that can be slaughtered for some stupid kid who's so unhealthy that he could die at any moment! The only thing you and your idiotic parents care for is my organs! Not me or my feelings, my organs!" he yelled, tears forcing their way from his eyes.
"Marik, please stop! You're hurting me!" Malik cried, tears flowing from his eyes.
"Why can't you just die! Then I'd actually have a life, and I'd be human! I'd be you. How do you like that, hm! To die, only to be replaced by some…some inhuman monster! How do you like that!" He shoved Malik against the wall, still furious. Malik fell to the floor, his eyes wide. He clutched at his heart, trying to breathe. Marik gasped.
The clone quickly hurried to Malik's side and pulled out his asthma medicine. He put it to Malik's mouth, and soon the boy could breathe again. Marik had no control over himself. He hadn't wanted to give the boy an asthma attack. Malik brought his hands to his eyes and sobbed into them.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered through sobs. "I didn't realize that that was how you felt. I don't care for your organs, Marik. It was all my parents' idea. I do care about you, Marik. You're like a brother to me, just for being there to help me. I don't even care if I die, now. I was supposed to die a long time ago when I was born. If I were healthier, then maybe you wouldn't have to live such a life." Marik gasped. Malik was apologizing for being unhealthy?
"No, don't apologize, Malik! You don't need to! I'm so sorry for doing that to you, it was…disgusting of me," he said quickly, then bowed to Malik. "Will you ever forgive me?"
"Don't apologize. I'm the one who should apologize to you," Malik said softly. "Will you forgive me?"
"I'll always forgive you!" Marik replied. "But will you forgive me?"
"If you're so insistent on apologizing, then yes. I do, brother," Malik said.
"Thank you," Marik murmured, sitting up.
"Shall we get to bed?" Malik suggested. Marik nodded, still crying. He took Malik into his arms and then lied his brother in his bed.
-
To make up for harming Malik, Marik spent extra time with him the next day. He even made breakfast for him, something he rarely ever did. Malik wasn't feeling quite well that day, he kept having to sit down and rest every few minutes. He said that it was just a headache, and that Marik shouldn't worry, but Marik was quite frantic.
"Are you sure that you're okay?" Marik kept asking.
"Yes, Marik. I'm positive," Malik would reply. Suddenly, their phone rang. Marik quickly answered it.
"Hello?" he said.
"Um, this is Ryou. Is Malik there?"
"Sure. Malik, it's for you," Marik said. He gave Malik the phone and told him who it was. Malik's eyes instantly brightened.
"Hey, Ryou. What's up?" Malik said. He stopped talking a while. "Oh, I'd love to. When should I meet you there? Six o'clock? Okay, thanks, Ryou. I love you, see you then." He hung up the phone. "Ryou and I are going to that movie that just came out a few days ago."
"Really? So it's your first date with him," Marik stated and Malik nodded excitedly.
"I can't wait!" he squealed.
-
Marik met up with Bakura at the park that night. He had just dropped Malik off at the movie theater, and wanted to speak with Bakura. He and Bakura sat on a bench in front of a large fountain that celebrated Dr. Peter Rose, developer of human cloning. They chatted a while, and Marik waited for the exact moment to tell Bakura the secret.
"Bakura, how much do you love me?" he asked. Bakura chuckled.
"Lots, Marik. So much that I'd kill anyone who would try to take you from me," he replied. "I've wanted to be with you since that day, after I bumped into Malik. Of course, we are together, right?" Marik nodded. "I want to give you the world." Bakura paused. "That sounds corny, doesn't it?"
"No, no. It means a lot to me," Marik replied. "Besides, you are my world. You don't need to give me anything but yourself." Now it was his turn to pause. "Okay, that was really cheesy." Bakura laughed.
"It means a lot, Marik. Do you love me a lot, too?"
"I love you more than anyone or anything in this world. In this universe," Marik murmured. He and Bakura pulled into a kiss. Marik decided not to tell Bakura just yet. He didn't want to screw up this special moment.
-
Malik sat next to Ryou at the movies. He had his arm around Ryou, holding his hand and smiling. Occasionally he and Ryou would direct their attention from the movie to each other and pull into a short, gentle kiss. They stayed for a bit even after the movie was through.
"Hey, Malik? Can I ask you something?" Ryou said.
"Sure, go ahead," Malik replied.
"Where was Marik before, in elementary school and last year? It's almost as if he didn't exist," Ryou asked. Malik hesitated.
"He was…in a different school," he lied.
"Oh. I see. But…why didn't the teacher say that he was? The teachers always introduce the student and then tell the class where he or she is from." Malik sighed.
"Can I trust you not to tell anyone what I'm about to say? No one, not even the people you trust most, can know. It must stay secret between you and I." Ryou nodded. "Marik wasn't in elementary school with us because he didn't exist until I was in fifth grade. He's…he's a clone." Ryou gasped. "He's my clone, in fact. My parents created him because they were worried that someday one of my organs would shut down or something. They'd have Marik to do transplants and such."
"Y-you're serious?" Ryou stuttered. Malik nodded.
"Yeah. I remember going to the lab where he was created and seeing him for the first time. He was just a baby back then, or at least he looked like one, so I could hold him in my arms."
"But…he looks nothing like you. Clones are exact copies of the original, right?" Ryou asked. Malik nodded.
"Yes, but mom said that he just wears his hair differently. I don't know about his eyes, although. Please don't tell him that I told you. He'd probably get upset," he begged.
"I won't but…it just seems odd that he doesn't look like you. And I'm talking about his eyes, I mean, even the shape is slightly different. And there's a huge difference with the color," Ryou pointed out. Malik shook his head from side to side slowly.
"I know, but the scientist that created him said that something went wrong with the eye DNA, but nothing else, so that still makes him a clone, apparently," he murmured. Ryou patted his shoulder gently, pulled him into a loving kiss, and they left the theater.
-
Bakura and Marik were strolling through the park again, each enjoying the sounds of the night. Marik blinked sadly, looking at his feet. Bakura noticed his bleak aura and tapped his shoulder.
"Hey," Bakura muttered. "What's wrong?"
"Bakura…" Marik said, looking up. "I'm sorry." Bakura blinked, confused.
"For what? You haven't done anything wrong," he replied.
"Yes, I have. I've lied to you. Ever since we met, I've been lying to you. I know that it doesn't seem that long…" He cut himself off.
"What? You…don't love me?" was Bakura's immediate reaction. Marik shook his head.
"No, I do love you. With all of my heart. But when I tell you the truth, you won't love me." Bakura gasped.
"What's the truth, then?" he asked.
"I'm not human. I was created in a lab, only a few years ago. I'm a clone," Marik murmured. Bakura gasped.
"Impossible! If you were a clone, then you'd be locked in a barn, and you wouldn't have a name! If you were a clone, you'd have a serial number!" he objected. Marik gazed at him sadly.
"You want proof, then?" he asked. Before Bakura could answer, he used one hand to tear off his anklet, revealing his serial number. "There. There's your proof." Bakura knelt down and gasped again.
"I don't believe it," he hissed, narrowing his eyes. He stood up and glared at Marik. "I will not believe it! I can't!" And then, before Marik could say anything more, he took off running, his silver necklaces making small clinks in the night.
-
Malik opened the door when he heard it ring. Standing in front of him was Marik, soaked with rainwater. It had been raining very heavily for an hour. Malik blinked.
"Marik? What's wrong?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.
"Nothing," Marik replied and walked past him, keeping his gaze to the floor. Malik hurried up the stairs and came back down with a towel in his hand. He found Marik sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Malik carefully draped the towel over him.
"Marik, we should get you dried off before you get ill," he murmured. Marik looked up and nodded, tears falling freely from his eyes.
-
"What happened?" Malik asked Marik when he came out of the bathroom, dressed in clean, warm clothing.
"Bakura. He left me," Marik replied in a soulless tone. Malik gasped.
"What! Why!" he exclaimed.
"I told him. I told him that I was a clone. I thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd accept me as one, but he…he ran away from me like I was some horrendous monster." He sat on the bed and held his face in his hands, crying. Malik instantly put one arm over Marik's shoulders and tried to comfort him.
"You're not a monster," he murmured, "you're a person, with real feelings and a real heart. You don't deserve such treatment." Marik clung to Malik tightly, sobbing into his shirt.
-
Malik sat in the waiting room at the doctor's, waiting for the results from his monthly check-up to come. Marik and his parents were next to him, also waiting. The doctor finally came out of the door, looking quite pleased.
"Well, doctor? How is he?" Malik's father asked. The doctor was grinning.
"Apparently, Malik only has one, curable disease. The rest of the diseases we thought he had were just symptoms of it! We can give him the shot to cure him and he'll be cured!" the man said happily. Malik, his parents, and Marik all gasped.
"You're kidding! All this time he only had one disease!" his mother exclaimed. The doctor nodded. "Then why didn't we know!"
"Changes in technology. We got new machines, and we can process everything easily. Now, Malik, if you'll come with me, please," the man said. Malik nodded, grinning. He followed the doctor to a small room and, only a few minutes later, came out, looking great. His eyes were shining like they'd never shined before, and his skin looked soft and smooth. Even his hair had changed, over the course of just a few minutes.
"Thank you so much, doctor! I feel great!" he said, shaking the doctor's hand.
"Good to hear!" Malik suddenly blinked, putting one hand on his stomach.
"It doesn't feel queasy anymore," he muttered.
"That's how it's supposed to feel," the doctor explained. Malik blinked again. "Of course, this means that you won't need any transplants of any sort, so you'll have to get rid of that." The doctor pointed at Marik, glaring slightly. Malik gasped.
"Of course, doctor. We'll take it to get euthanized," Malik's father said in a cold, icy voice. Marik gasped in horror.
"Don't worry, sir. We can do that right here," the doctor said.
"No!" Malik yelled. "You will not kill him! He's my friend!" Malik stood in front of Marik protectively.
"Malik, it's just a clone. You don't need it anymore, and why waste money feeding it?" his father said, trying to convince Malik. Malik glared, shaking his head.
"You will not. If you kill him, you'll have to kill me, too," he hissed. Marik was suddenly grabbed by two people.
"Help me!" he cried, struggling to get away. Malik grabbed Marik's hand and tried to pull him back, but his parents tugged on him, trying to get him to let go.
"Stop it! Don't hurt him!" Malik cried. Suddenly, just as Marik was about to be dragged into the room known as "the room of painless death," the front doors burst open. Standing in the doorway was Bakura, surrounded by at least ten men wearing suits, holding guns. Members of the Mafia. The men surrounded the two doctors and aimed the guns at their heads.
"Stop everything," Bakura said, glaring. "By order of me, the leader of the Mafia, I command you to let that man go." Marik stared at him. Why was Bakura helping him? The doctors quickly let go of Marik, and two of the men in suits helped him to his feet. Marik knew that these people had more power than the government, so why were they helping him?
"Marik Ishtar may be a clone, but like any human being he has thoughts and feelings. Clones are not livestock, they are much, much more. If you think about it, livestock like cows have dull, pointless expressions, and they seem to have no emotions whatsoever. But, if you look into any clone's eyes, you will see emotions. Right now when I look into Marik's, I see fear, sadness, and relief all at the same time," Bakura announced.
"He's an animal, you stupid teenager! The only thing he's good for is spare parts! And do we need him any longer? No! So why keep him alive? He's just another mouth to feed," Malik's father snapped. Malik's mother, however, looked thoughtful.
"We, sir, are members of the Mafia, and I am the leader. Do you seriously want to argue with me?" Bakura growled, narrowing his eyes. "Especially when we have machine guns pointed at you? Honestly, sir, you have a lot of gall.
"I did my research. I even went to the barns that clones are held in and asked them questions about how they felt about being locked up. All of them answered about the same thing: They said that they hated it. How would you all feel if you had to be locked up just for being you?"
"Clones are animals ready for slaughter, like pigs and cows. They need to be locked up, they deserve it," Malik's father growled. "And besides, if we let them run loose in the community, we wouldn't have them when we need them."
"Wait, he has a point, Ramses," Malik's mother said to her husband. "How would you feel if you were locked up?"
"That's not important!" the man snapped.
"Anyway, pigs and cows aren't very intelligent. They don't know how to escape unless there's an opportunity right in front of them. Clones have tried to escape multiple occasions, even if they know that they have a high chance of failing," Bakura said.
"I'm sure that you believed that clones were only animals before all this," Ramses growled.
"I admit that I did, but I changed my mind after meeting Marik. I learned that clones have abstract feelings just by watching him and speaking with him. The night he told me of his secret, the secret of being a clone, I ran away, but then I secretly followed him to his home. He acted differently while walking back, even his movements were awkward. He used to walk confidently, proudly, almost, but then…everything about him changed. He walked with his eyes to the ground, and he didn't even bother to seek shelter from the rain.
"When he finally came to his home, I peered through the windows and saw him crying. Marik definitely isn't the type to cry, no matter what. It was then that I realized that I had made a horrible mistake. I admit that I had broken many hearts before, but when I broke Marik's…I actually felt guilty. I felt like I had screwed up both his and my life. And it felt horrible. Worst of all, I knew that I'd never be able to speak with him again after that night. And even worse, I studied Malik's conditions and found out that they could be cured by just one shot. And after that, I knew that you people would believe that Marik had no more use, and that you'd murder him."
"Then how did you get here on time?" Malik's mother asked.
"I watched the surveillance cameras by hacking into the hospital's system. I waited outside until I was needed," Bakura said with a grin. "I didn't want to cause too much of a disturbance. Now, do you really want to kill Marik, even after learning that he is exactly like you and I in every single way?"
"No," Malik's mother said. "I will not kill a sentient being."
"Of course I want to kill him! I don't want to waste money feeding him!" Malik's father growled.
"Then you might as well leave," Malik's mother told him. "As of now you are not a member of this family. Go." Bakura hadn't expected that to happen. Of course, the mother of a family was technically the ruler, since she gave birth to the child or children. Anything she said was absolute.
Ramses moved his mouth as if he was trying to speak. Finally, he gave up, cursed them all to go to Hell, and left.
Bakura ordered the Mafia members around him to take the doctors away and guard the entrances from the outside, just in case. He stepped over to Marik and got kneeled in front of him.
"Marik," he murmured, "I am truly sorry for running from you the other night. I do love you, more than anything in this world, no matter what. Do you forgive me?" Marik smiled and took his hand, helping him up.
"Of course I do," he said. "I still love you, more than anything in this world." Bakura smiled gratefully.
"Thank you," he murmured and hugged him tightly, then kissed him gently.
"No, thank you. You saved my life, Bakura," Marik replied, hugging him back. "Even if I am a clone."
"I'm never thinking of you as a clone again, Marik. I'm thinking of you as my one and only," Bakura whispered into his ear. Marik smiled warmly and tightened his grip on him. "Marik, I love you."
"I love you too, Bakura."
The doors suddenly burst open and in came Ryou. He hurried over to Malik.
"Those guys out there told me that you were cured!" he cried happily and hugged him tightly. Malik laughed and hugged him back.
"Yup! I can visit you whenever I want to, I can go outside even during the allergy season, I feel like I can do anything!" Malik said, grinning. Ryou kept his hands on Malik's shoulders as he pulled away.
"You look incredible. Better than I've ever seen you before!" he said with a grin and hugged him again. Malik smiled and stroked the back of Ryou's head.
"I'm just glad that I'm healthy," he murmured. Ryou nodded in agreement.
"Me, too. And I'm glad that Marik's safe, also."
"You know," Bakura said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "the law says that if the person whose DNA was used to create a clone tells the clone that he or she is a human, then the clone becomes an official human and the serial number tattoo is removed." He looked to Malik. Marik blinked.
"You still care that I'm a clone?" he asked. Bakura shook his head.
"No, I just don't want you getting hurt because of your tattoo," he said. "If it's removed, you can go around freely, wherever you want. You can even get a job." Marik gasped. He had completely forgotten that clones couldn't get jobs. The boss would check a person's ankle to make sure that they were human.
Malik grinned.
"Okay, then. Marik, as of now and for the rest of your life, you are human," he said. Marik grinned back.
"Thank you, Malik," he said gratefully. Malik nodded, and Bakura managed to find a tattoo-remover kit in the office. He walked over to Marik, took out the small, tattoo-removing gun and pressed it to Marik's ankle. He pressed the trigger and Marik flinched as he felt something prick him multiple times. Bakura pulled away the gun and revealed Marik's ankle. There wasn't even a scar left of the tattoo. It was completely gone.
Marik felt extremely happy inside. His life as a clone was over. His life as a human had just begun.
End
Mew: It's the end! Yay! Thank you for reading all that in, hopefully, one sitting!
Draiku: It's finally over! –cheers-
Mew: And hopefully that didn't scare you too much, especially the part about the skin cell. That scared me. –shifty eyes-
Yoko: That was twenty pages long on Word. Wow. Anyway, please R&R!