Wilted Rose

Summary: (Sequel to ALFoR) After selling his soul to save Marik, a mute Malik is slowly dying with Seto finding himself powerless to help. Meanwhile, Bakura tries to reason with a reckless Marik as Ryou searches for a way to save both demon and human. (MxM, BxR)

Rated: T

Genre: Supernatural/Romance

Author's Note: I made some changes to my original outline, mostly because I thought the pacing went a bit too fast concerning a certain event. So now, I have a final chapter estimate of 13, though I may bump it up to 14 or 15 if I decide to include this idea I've been playing around with.

Disclaimer: It's still not mine…bleh!

4 – The Dreamer

Dinner was extremely quiet in the Touzoku household; both sons sitting side by side, the parents sitting opposite. Their house was by no means very spacious; it consisted of two rather tight rooms, both of which served dual purposes. The larger space served as a bedroom as well as a living area; beds were rolled up and stored when not being used. The chamber currently occupied was not only a dining room, but a kitchen as well. Since their house (if you could call it that) was such a close proximity to the ocean, a bathroom was unnecessary…according to everyone except Bakura. What the small child would give to have running water was immeasurable; though he knew no other way of washing himself, the mere thought of taking a nice, hot bath was like heaven to him.

With the family huddled together like sticky candied fruit forced into a container, the Touzoku meal commenced in utter silence. Haruka, the mother, held her chopsticks rather loosely, bringing each small clump of rice to her mouth with the slightest hesitation. Osuma, the father, ate with a fierce air, his piercing silver gaze darting periodically from one boy to the other. The elder brother noticed this, but held his tongue, bringing his arm down to retrieve another salted fish from the small plate. A ten-year-old Bakura chewed his bottom lip nervously, frightful mahogany eyes looking anywhere but his dad's wolf-like expression.

The solitary woman cleared her throat briefly, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. She set her bowl down and looked at her first son with a sympathetic look. "How was your day, Akefia?"

"Same as any other," he replied automatically, still rolling the fish around in soy sauce.

A snort resounded from the other side of the table.

"Would you also like to know how my day went?" he said facetiously, allowing the excess liquid to drip off.

"I don't need to. A letter from the university came in today."

"And like the loving father you are, you found it your right, no…no your duty to open it, right? Because God knows there's no such thing as privacy in this shack." Akefia scoffed, grey eyes strangely dull.

"You didn't get accepted."

"I know."

"And you're okay with that?" The older man said incredulously.

"Do I look okay with it?"

"We'll you're certainly acting okay!"

"Pfft, daddy, you of all people should be happy I failed," Akefia chuckled. "Now I'll be able to continue the village profession. Fishing! Sure, it's not as respectable as maybe a doctor or a businessman, but it's something! There's nothing better than shipping off the coast at four in the morning and reducing the world's aquatic life. And hey, if I suck at that, then I'll just do what you do and sell the fish." He looked towards the ceiling, a dreamy expression on his face. "Then, just maybe, I'll be able to buy a crummy little hut of my own."

Haruka gasped as her husband brought down a heavy first onto the already beaten table.

"I will NOT tolerate this disrespect!" He shrieked, bits of white foam flying from his mouth.

"Then plug your ears old man." The tanned son mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

"If you loathe this way of life so much then maybe you should have tried harder to pass the exams! Day after day, your mother and I told you to study!"

"I did study," Akefia seethed, wooden chopsticks nearly snapping due to his forceful grip.

"You spent all your time daydreaming in that blasted rose garden!"

"So what? What's your point? You sound like you're accusing me of failing on purpose!"

"Didn't you?"

"Osuma!" The mother hissed fretfully, blue eyes widening.

"For once in your life mother, won't you please stay out of my business?"

"Akefia," she begged, tears forming. "Your father doesn't mean–"

"Stop babying him Haruka! I mean every last word! Some role model you are, you're supposed to be setting a good example for your little brother!"

"Excuse me?" Akefia gaped, throwing a dirty look at the petrified Bakura, who immediately wished he could melt into the ground.

"Bakura, why don't you tell him about your high marks?" The older man encouraged, keeping a firm glare onto his older son.

"Th-they're not that great," the white haired boy muttered quietly, nudging his empty bowl. "J-Just average marks…nothing too important…they're just…okay…"

"Well aren't you just fucking precious?" the other spat, slamming his own bowl onto the table. "Who'd have thought any different," he continued loudly, waving his hands elaborately, "perfect Bakura got higher grades than stupid, retarded, idiotic Akefia! Whoo! Alert the media, we've got a killer story on our hands! Local godsend outperforms his worthless lump of an older brother!"

Bakura felt his insides shrivel into nothing. Not again, not another one of his well-versed brother's sarcastically bitter rants. It had become a daily thing. His father would find some obscure way to drag him into his personal arguments with Akefia, only to succeed in having the eldest son spouting obscenities at both of them. It hadn't always been like this; Bakura and Akefia had always gotten along fairly well, as well as a fifteen year age difference would allow anyway. His brother was hardly as stupid as their father seemed to think, though he was infectiously lazy. However, in Bakura's opinion, sloth did not warrant daily verbal abuse from someone who was supposed to support you.

"You will not talk to your brother like that!" Osuma growled threateningly.

"What exactly are you trying to prove here, father?" Akefia snarled. It was clear, to him at least, that young Bakura had become his dad's favorite son. The words that left the eldest Touzoku's mouth when regarding the small boy were warmer than anything ever directed at him. Bakura was never called stupid. Bakura was never told he couldn't succeed. No one ever called Bakura 'hopeless.'

"That a ten-year-old has more potential than you." The man stated bluntly. "You're twenty-five. You should have graduated college by now. Yet here you are, complaining about how poor we are without even attempting to do anything about it! Seven times Akefia! You've been rejected seven times! Get some sense into that empty head and quit trying! Stop applying for school and start thinking of a way to earn us some money!"

For the first time in his life, Akefia was lost for words. He swallowed several times, searching the eyes of both his mother and Bakura for something to reply with. But he found nothing.

"Just what exactly am I to you?" He whispered, voice saturated with a mixture of intense loathing and subtle longing.

"A failure on your part," his father replied coldly, turning back to his food. "And a disappointment on mine."

A look of hate marred across the young man's face before he stormed angrily out of the small house.

"Where do you think you're going?" His mother asked, however she was halted from standing by her exasperated husband.

"Fishing." Came the simple reply.

"But it's already pitch black out…" Bakura's eyes widened, a sudden realization flowing through him like poison. "…side…"

Akefia's deep grey eyes met his brother's paralyzed brown. Despite himself, the broken sibling flashed a short smirk.

"Exactly."

"Did you find what you were looking for Master Mahaado?"

The angel looked down tiredly and met the smiling face of young Mana, holding a stack of decrepit books. She had been following him closer than a shadow for a number of days, talking incessantly about odd subjects. Although he insisted on her not coming with him to the main library, she had managed to do so anyway, immediately blabbering on about how she disliked libraries to begin with. Heaven's library was filled to the brim with every book written into existence, from ancient scriptures to modern best-sellers. Shelf after shelf was lined was muted covers, all organized according to subject. Instinctively, Mahaado had settled himself in front of the 'Demon' section and starting pulling down book after book, scouring the pages for any sign of what Ryou may need. So far, he'd found nothing.

"Not yet," he sighed.

"You know, if you'd tell me what you were looking for I could help you search a lot faster," she said coolly, setting her pile onto the floor. "It'll take you until Final Judgment if you search this building all by yourself."

"Trust me Mana; I know what I'm doing."

"Suit yourself," the girl snorted. "Oh, and Lady Isis was looking for you a few days ago. Said she had something important to tell you." Blue eyes darkened, "You wouldn't happen to be seeing her, would you? Because I really don't think she's your type. I mean, she's thinks she's all classy and dignified and wise and…"

"In other words, the polar opposite of you?" Mahaado smirked.

"Well, if a plastic personality floats your boat, then by all means go for it." Mana huffed.

"Isis and I are both on the Council; she probably just wants to ask me about my recent absences."

"If you say so."

"Mana…"

"Are you sure you don't want me to help you? I mean, why are you even in this section anyway? Planning to start a war with Hell any time soon?"

"Mana, if you won't keep quiet then can you please just–"

"Alright, alright, I'll keep my mouth shut! I'm just curious as to why you'd want to spend all this time looking for books on," she picked up a withering book that had fallen from the top shelf a few hours ago, "'The Red Iris.'"

Mahaado froze. "Mana, read that to me again."

"What, this?" he young angel flipped through the crumbling pages carefully. "The book's called the Red Iris; it looks like it's just an old, made-up story about some soul dealings with demons. Curses, repercussions, contracts…huh. They really went off the wall with this one. Do you want to check it out?"

Mahaado flew down quickly and grabbed the dusty book from Mana's hands, muted teal eyes racing over the fading words scrawled onto the yellowing paper. "This is it! This exactly what I was looking for! Oh Mana!"

The smaller angel squealed as she was swept into a sudden hug, a bright blush painting itself on her lightly tanned cheeks. "Oh my!"

"Thank you very, very much! As soon as Ryou comes back I'll reward you greatly." The archangel spread his glorious white wings and took off, speeding like a bullet out of the barrel.

"Well I'm…always happy to help." The brunette giggled, clasping her hands together.

"You mean to tell me Seto Kaiba is no longer the Keeper of the boy?"

"That's right Dartz," Varon said offhandedly, leaning against a nearby pillar. "Saw it all happen. Some demon from the western area challenged old blue eyes to a match. Needless to say, he lost. You gotta feel pity for the guy," a small frown, "he sacrificed a lot to keep that kid alive."

"Obviously, he didn't do enough," Dartz grinned, summoning a scroll from his shelf. "That poor boy is still dying, and because of this little," he searched for the word, "breach of contract, I say we'll need to punish him accordingly."

"Punish Malik?"

"Amelda has told me an angel by the name of Ryou Bakura has informed two humans connected to the boy of the sacrifice. If that human stops trying to kill himself then I'll never have all of the boy's soul and my…our plan…"

"What are you going to do?" Varon asked worriedly, stepping into the torchlight. "The kid already signed the contract; his soul can't be sapped unless the human tries to kill himself. And with that stupid angel telling him everything…"

"Don't worry," the older demon cooed, opening the summoned scroll. At the bottom of a very neatly written agreement was the scarlet signature of Malik Ishtal; the ink still looked very wet. "The advantages of being the one in control of this deal," Dartz continued, magically shifting the signature down to allow more blank space, "are too numerous to count. As long as there's still some life left in that boy, I will not stop until I get what we agreed to," he waved a pale hand above the newly created empty spot. "So sorry I have to do this Malik, but you know…you never know what you're getting yourself into when you make a deal with me."

On the off chance that I change Keepers while the contract is still in effect, I agree that my soul will continue to be transferred to Master Dartz in small increments, regardless of Marik's attempts at suicide.

-Malik Ishtal

"Now all we have to do is wait."

Despite himself, Malik clung to Touzoku's arm like a lost child in the mall, dual colored eyes widening to take in the full scope of his new surroundings. As the only experiences he had within Hell's mouth were in the northern area, he was quite oblivious to the differing landscapes and…dare he say it, cultures of anywhere else. However, upon crossing the surprisingly busy bridge into what Touzoku fondly referred to as 'Suicide Central,' he was surprised he was able to keep his jaw from falling open.

He had always considered the world Seto had presented to be the only one that existed; crumbling buildings, dingy streets, melancholy, yet personable patrons who sauntered in and out of the small restaurant where, like a servant, he would bring them trays of food. Never would he have dreamed that there was another reality outside of the protective, highly controlled bubble the brunette demon had carefully placed him in. The western area of Hell, though it did feel considerably more subdued than his northern home, was the polar opposite of where he had come from. Malik had readily compared the street where he had worked to that of an old European city; it held a rustic, quaint feeling, but was nowhere close to the privileged area where he grew up in life. While the neighborhood where he spent several years with Marik was definitely more than middle class, this new city that Touzoku had (forcefully) brought him into was simply breathtaking. Luckily, Malik no longer had any breath to take.

There were sprawling mansions as far as the eye could see; each one looking like it was carved out of pure marble. A beautifully eerie fountain spouting what looked like blood, but smelt faintly of a rich wine stood proudly in the center square of what Malik assumed was the main shopping plaza. Shop windows illuminated by soft, flickering lights, showcased a variety of cryptic merchandise, most of which the small demon had never seen before. And the sky…the sky was easily Malik's favorite part. He had grown so accustomed to the suspended sunset of the northern realm; the dusty reds mingled with warm orange, fading occasionally into a comforting indigo. However here, the sky was a soft periwinkle; light pink and lavender clouds streaked across its vast surface with heavier grey hovering just beneath them in thick sheets. This was a suspended sunrise.

"So…this is my side of town." Touzoku said airily, scratching his head. "Don't mean to brag or anything, but this really beats the shit out of that dung heap you came from." He looked down slightly, amused to see the other boy's expression. "Hn. Looks like I finally got a smile out of you."

Malik blushed. 'It's really beautiful.'

"I don't think so," the taller sighed, flexing his wings and shouldering the large item Malik had brought. Predictably, the small blonde quickly grew tired of carrying his only piece of luggage and forced the burden onto Touzoku, who fashioned it into a sort of backpack.

'How come?'

"There aren't any plants."

'Plants?'

"Yeah, haven't you noticed? Not a single bush, tree, flower, or sprig of dill anywhere in sight. It's just stone. Marble. Granite. The occasional cement block. Ugh," grey eyes rolled. "Everything here's completely dead. Oh…wait…"

'I don't get it,' Malik blinked, carefully venturing out from underneath Touzoku's cloak. 'This place is amazing…the houses, the statues, your sky…' He looked up wistfully. 'So what if there aren't any plants? This doesn't feel like Hell.'

"Easy for you to…think," Touzoku replied smugly. "May not be Hell to you, but it is to me and everyone else in this area."

'You consider eternal comfort to be torture?' The blonde stuck out his tongue, 'Someone's greedy!'

"It's not the place that instigates the pain, my adorable little charge," the horned demon sneered, placing a fist on the shorter demon's head. "It's the existence. I can't remember anything about my life. Nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. What if you'd lost all your memories of everyone you'd ever loved, eh? Sure, you think it wouldn't be too bad…because if you can't remember anything then it's as if it never happened. Then it starts eating at you. Was I a good person? A bad person? Someone in between? Who did I love? What did I do? Questions, endless questions to mull over for all of eternity, and let me tell you, a pretty backdrop does not make it any less irritating!"

Touzoku's chest was heaving up and down heavily, his normally relaxed composure getting more than a little disheveled. Suddenly, he looked rather embarrassed. "Eh, but that's what I get for killing myself I suppose." He held out a clawed hand invitingly. "Come on Malik, we don't want you to attract any–"

"What is THAT?"

"Attention." Touzoku finished dully.

Malik felt himself getting grabbed from behind, and before he knew it, four demons with similar features to his new keeper were prodding him curiously.

"Is it an angel?"

"Can't be, it's got claws!"

"Look at that eye…"

"Oh my, it certainly is cute, isn't it?"

'Oh goodie, so now I'm an it,' Malik whined, red eye twitching.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" Touzoku barked, ramming his way through the grabby crowd and sheltering Malik under his cloak once again. "Hands off you freeloaders, he's mine!"

'Excuse me?' The blonde hissed.

"Listen, do you want to be poked into oblivion?" The other whispered harshly.

"Wherever did you get such an interesting creature?" A female chirped, clasping her hands to her chest. "Those feathers are simply marvelous!"

"Never mind that," an older demon scoffed, waving the question away. "What does it do?"

"Can you eat it?" Another asked mischievously.

"Bet it tastes amazing," his twin cooed.

"You idiots, haven't you ever seen a demon from the northern area before?" The tanned demon spat, beginning to move forward at a brisk pace. "Let's go Malik."

"You mean it's from there?"

"One of them fallen angel types."

"Oh…it's one of them."

'What a bunch of airheaded bigots.' Malik seethed. Touzoku cackled loudly, wiping the tears from his eyes. The sound was unnerving to say the least; whether it was intentional or not, the taller demon always seemed to hold a more sinister tone than what he was used to…and he was used to some pretty weird things. Marik's choice in music for example.

"Oh God, I love you! So vocal…and you can't even speak!"

'Love is a strong word,' the blonde mused.

"What better to use for the person who I chose to spend eternity with?"

Malik made an exaggerated gagging sound.

"Very cute." Touzoku snorted. "That human must be some kind of big shot, huh? For you to stay so loyal to him when you've got hot stud like me around. I'd like to meet him someday…and then bash his face in for getting to you before I did. Huh…but if that happened, I probably would have been convicted as some kind of child molester… What do you think Malik?"

'I think you're full of it.' Came the blonde's condescending reply.

"Henh, well I didn't get to where I am today by being humble. Huh…maybe I did. Well, I'm pretty sure I didn't…but…so…AUGH! Look what you made me do! Now my head hurts; you owe me an apology you little brat!"

He waited for a moment, offended when no response came. Just as he was about to reprimand the young demon, a sudden weight was placed on his right side, coincidentally the same place Malik was hiding. More than a little startled, Touzoku looked around him quickly in case anyone was close enough to notice Malik's feathers before throwing off his cloak. The dark demon's skin tone noticeably lightened by three shades at the sight of the unconscious boy leaning heavily against his stomach.

"Hey, Malik!" Touzoku muttered nervously, giving the blonde a light slap on the cheek. "Malik!"

No response.

Cursing under his breath, the horned demon managed to lift his charge into his arms, which actually wasn't very hard due both his weight and the fact that Malik was as limp as a puppet with its strings cut. In a flash Touzoku took flight, bat-like wings opening to their fullest. Grey eyes searched fervently for the telltale blue roof of his home, stopping abruptly (and almost dropping both his possessions) when he found it. Shifting gears into an impromptu nosedive, he braced himself and crashed into his bedroom window.

"That can be fixed," the horned demon coughed, shaking a few lingering glass shards off. He looked down worriedly to find the blonde still out cold. "Okay…bed, bed, bed, bed, bed…"

Bare feet pattered out of rhythm against the wooden floor as Touzoku rushed the young demon to his waiting bed, sweeping aside a pile of crumpled blankets and gently placing a few more pillows under Malik's head. Getting his excitement under control, the older demon paused for a quick breath before moving to leave, planning to bring anything and everything from his medicine cabinet; hopefully there would be something that would help the blonde recover. Before he was out of the room, the demon felt an odd rubbing against his shoulder, and jumped at the sound of something fairly heavy thudding behind him.

"Oh shit…" Touzoku winced, turning around. Lying on the floor was what he now recognized to be some kind of mirror, as the white cloth covering it had slipped off. Completely forgetting his plan to raid his pantry, the white haired demon stepped cautiously over the ornate item and threw the sheet off altogether, grey eyes scouring the mirror's surface with a curious wonder. The carvings around the reflective surface were done in pure gold; sculpted demons and other monsters were etched into the material immaculately, the sculptor going so far as to add a unique expression on each of their faces. While inspecting the mirror more closely, Touzoku inadvertently brushed his hand against the glass, staring in shock as the blank surface immediately ripped like water before forming into the handsome face of a melancholy blonde. Light hair shadowed the males luscious plum colored eyes, holding a kind of mournful sorrow that the demon had seen in himself on more than one occasion.

His fist clenched.

"This guy…"

A soft growl echoed behind him.

Touzoku looked over his shoulder guiltily and spied the young demon awake, and more importantly, pissed. The black ribbon that had been keeping his hair tied had slipped off mid-flight, allowing long, light blonde hair to frame his deceptively innocent face. The older demon almost shuddered at the burning look Malik's narrowed eyes were giving him, the freakish red iris only adding to the effect.

"Good morning."

'So…what'd you think?" Malik whispered, smiling coyly at his keeper. 'You've got some stiff competition, don't you? He's certainly got you beaten in the looks department. Plus,' claws extended, the blonde drew his hands across the mattress, ripping the fabric until the tangled webs of cotton peaked out apprehensively, 'I doubt he's ever been rude enough to pry through my things while I was unconscious.'

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look when you're mad?" The other demon cooed, slipping the mirror under his bed. "And how ungrateful! I carried you and that thing all the way here by myself. I could've just left you on the side of the street and let some other guy pick you up if I wanted."

'But you didn't and you wouldn't. You're infatuated with me.' Malik shot him a seductive glance. 'Aren't you? I don't blame you…'

"Now who's full of it?" Touzoku sneered.

Malik winced before closing his eyes. 'My heat hurts…' The lilac eye opened. 'Water?'

"Apology?"

'Forget it.'

"Same to you then," the other sniffed, crossing his arms. "Go get it yourself. Down the stairs, first door to your left."

The demon blinked confusedly when the small blonde moved to comply. He didn't actually believe his charge would do as he said; he was only joking after all. Stepping tentatively on the stone floor, Malik wobbled a little before he was able to regain his balance; he then marched irritably out of the room, making sure his wings 'accidentally' smacked Touzoku's as he did so.

'Jerk.'

"Brat."

So! (clasps hands) We've got some intense sibling resentment going on between Bakura and his big brother! It's totally one sided…just like Touzoku's relationship with Malik, hee. Speaking of which, I'm going to continue referring to him as Touzoku whenever we're brought back to the present, Akefia is his forgotten name.

ZOMG HE FAINTED! …So, what now? Malik won't be going down without a fight my lovelies, but we will see some succulent submissiveness from our blonde beauty soon enough.

NEXT CHAPTER! Marik and Bakura butt heads, Ryou takes a trip to Hell, and Touzoku shows Malik something incredible!

REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!

I know a lot of you have recently put this story on your alert list; SANKYUU! But still...

REVIEW! (They make me happy...)