Author's Note: I want to thank you all for such kind reviews! I was actually pleasantly surprised when I found out people liked the story enough to favorite it or put it on alert.
I really hope you enjoy the second chapter as well! Just a head's up, everything in italics means something that's happened before or a flashback.


Chapter two: Nothing.

He was nothing. He'd been nothing at the tomb, where he had been tossed around and played around with as everyone pleased. He had been groomed into becoming what he had to be, fighting every step of the way but his own choices had been meaningless. Nothing. And now he was less than nothing in this man's grasp.

In the two hours he'd been forced to spend in his company, he had been made to walk while the rest of them, a pack of bandits, rode the horses. However, that wasn't the worst of it. Like a slave he was wrist-bound to the horse which galloped every once in a while, forcing him down on his knees, dragged through the sand until he nearly choked on it and was released finally under the load roar of laughter. This was the third time he had been force-fed sand, and though Mariku really didn't give a fuck about him or his petty little methods, this was starting to get on his nerves. So after dragging himself up, spitting at the bandits, he only howled at him. "You're pathetic."

He wouldn't ever admit he missed Malik, wouldn't admit it for the world that a sense of dread had settled into his stomach but at least he could say that he wasn't scared of this Bakura. The man was worthless of his fear and attention. It would be worthless to even try. Mariku had been told countless of times that he was incapable of feeling, and right now the grin on his face seemed to agree with that.

He wasn't stupid enough to be fearless. But he didn't care enough to fear.

The albino halted in his steps and looked back at him. His eyes seemed to change, from a strange mahogany to a deep auburn, and his lips curled back into a sneer. On one hand he hadn't expected so much defiance from a caveman, but on the other… It was just what he should've expected from a pampered little godsend like the blonde. With that he hopped off his horse but his newly acquired slave, his lips only momentarily twitched into a grin, didn't even flinch.

"As a slave you really have no right to say such things to me." The boy was aggravating him more than he'd originally thought. He couldn't be anything but angry.

"Did I hurt someone's feelings?" Marik shot back, that grin never leaving his hollow face with the violent lavender eyes. Bakura should've realized something then.

But he didn't.

Instead he just wanted that infuriating grin gone from his face.

Thunk.

The blow was hard, harder than the blonde had anticipated, and it had taken him by surprise as he found himself in the sand a second later with a painfully throbbing cheek. That was going to become a nasty bruise. But Mariku refused to give up. He continued grinning like mad as he wiped the blood off his cheek where Bakura's ring had cut him.

"Seems like I have."

He didn't cringe, didn't cry. Didn't even put up much of a fight as he just stood up again and laughed. A chilling laugh that a boy of his age shouldn't be able to make. It was mad as it rang through the desert, chilling Bakura's anger for a moment. It foretold something that he couldn't grasp, every time he saw a glimpse, it slipped through the very cracks of his fingers.

"Stop laughing!" his father screamed at him while Malik sobbed in a corner, comforted by Isis who's watchful eyes never left Mariku's distorted face. His father struck again, leaving a red welt on Marik's side and though the boy hissed in retaliation, he had not ceased his laughter.

"Mariku…" The threat was not heeded or just not heard. One wasn't ever sure with the blonde. He didn't speak, never spoke a word during the beating he received that seemed to last longer the more his mouth gave way to soft chuckles. Skin tore under the harsh material of the whip, bones crunched when his legs couldn't support his weight anymore and blood adorned the walls he collapsed against. But still Mariku would not cease to laugh.

It was the only thing he had left.

Bakura couldn't stand it anymore. The melodious sound went on and on like a broken record with no interruption in its wake. Striding forward, he grabbed the boy by the front of his tunic and brought his face close, close enough for Mariku to take note of him and stop laughing.

"This defiance of yours…" the grip grew tighter, fabric getting twisted and cutting into flesh. "I will break it along with the rest of you."

Marik's expression changed, lips pulled back into a growl, a look ready to kill. "Just who the fuck do you think you are?"

Bakura roughly pushed the blonde away from him and kicked the fallen body where it lay. "You'll find that out very soon." The grin was malicious. The intent probably even worse. "Because you'll be screaming the name later."


It was dark. There was no light to be found beneath the rocks that adorned the cooled down sand, flaps of tents lightly moving in the wind and here it was Mariku laid, beneath the stars that were the only comfort he could find himself in. Even idiots knew it would get cold during the nights, that once the sun had left the dead surface of the desert, cold like winter would settle in. He would run if he could, would have better liked death than this accursed fate because Ra knew you'd die in the desert at night. Unfortunately Bakura had anticipated that and bound him to a wooden pole right next to his tent.

Chains rattled with every movement.

Why was he here? What was his stupid purpose now?

For a moment Marik only laughed. "What do the 'gods' want of me now?" It was no secret that he didn't believe at all. From the moment he'd been told to get his back carved open so people could see his precious destiny he had been refusing. His capture had been fierce. The blonde had been running around the tomb for two days until finally, his empty stomach and drained energy did not quite have the strength to run on anymore.

"Hmpf." Best not to think about it.

It was kind of ironic to know that, had it not been for his father's hatred, he would now be in a palace, serving another creature he didn't believe in like the gods.

Mariku's lips curled into a smirk.

The pharaoh.

Had it not been for Bakura, or everything else his accursed 'destiny' threw at him, then he would be serving in a palace now, treated "special" because he had the gift to talk to the gods. Mariku wanted to laugh again. If the Gods had ever listened to him then they wouldn't have made him a twin, wouldn't have cursed him with these markings, wouldn't make him live with a pharaoh he hated or a man who's hatred was returned in full.

A rush of wind made him shiver and a moment later a man stood beside him.

"Hello there pretty." His voice was rough, hardened through years of murder and thievery. Beady eyes seemed to glisten in the weak light as they roamed over Mariku's body. A body that had been stripped away from clothing previously this night.

"Lay there like the dog you are." The pale Egyptian had spit in his face as he threw the garments into his own tent, leaving Mariku bare on the sand. If the man thought this had brought shame on him, he was wrong. The blonde only stretched his body to the fullest and shot him a lecherous grin. "Like what you see?" It had not been unnoticed that Bakura's eyes had lingered on the marred flesh, if only for a moment.

A hit to the face was all the response he got before the Lord of thieves had disappeared into his tent, muttering ancient curses that Mariku could only understand partly. But he had only chuckled.

Victory.

The stench of alcohol was not missed by him and he scrunched up his nose as he regarded him with a look of disgust. He was wary, but not yet alarmed. The man crouched down next to him, only to have Mariku scoot away from him. He was not scared, not in the least, but the smell was just that unbearable.

"What's the matter blondie?" A grin full of yellow teeth met him. "Don't like what you see?"

A hand made its way to Mariku's thigh. His response was immediate.

He might have been bound with his feet but his hands were still free and his right shot out to grab the appendage that touched him, twisted the wrist and snapped it with his left hand. A sickening crack was heard and a scream followed. There wasn't much time for a triumphant laugh though as the blonde was quickly seized by the hair and he growled as he stood face to face with him. A punch was quickly delivered, bruising his face further but a kick was delivered soon as a response.

The man gained the position on top of him and the blonde hissed, rolling over the ground, landing punches wherever he could and eventually the unscathed hand was placed on his inner thigh, making him snap up and glare. "Don't fucking dare if you want to keep that hand.." A knife snapped into place near his right eye. "You'll lose that pretty eye of yers if you keep yappin'."

A moment later that grin started to fade and then suddenly the body was next to him, a knife pressed into his back, another figure hovering above it. "Don't steal what's mine." The last parting words the thief heard before he died, his blood mingling with the dark sand beneath him.

The blonde looked up, doing nothing but stare at the auburn eyes that looked back at him.

"Get the fuck away." It was Marik that pushed the body away from him and snarled at the albino. "I'm trying to sleep here." He hadn't been scared. More disgusted with the man than he'd ever been for defending him as property. He'd rather be dead.

With a disbelieving snort the man regarded him but walked away without further protest. "Die for all I care."

It was too late for this. In the morning there would be plenty of time to punish the blonde for his disobedience, because if there was one thing that everyone knew around him ; Bakura did not go back on his word.

He would break the boy. At all cost.


N/A; I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading chapter 2 as well. The plot will hopefully thicken somewhat after this but I hope I have explained a bit more about Marik's position. Though it will all come in time. In case of any questions. This is Yami Bakura, the pale-haired bastard we all came to love. Touzouko might come in later.

Does me saying "please review" really make you want to do it more? Regardless, I would love to hear what you think.