DD: Hey again guys! I'm actually quite happy with the way I'm updating recently. Okay so this chapter doesn't really focus on Yugi. At all. In fact I think he's in one scene. But it focuses on Marik, Malik, Bakura and Ryou. Who doesn't love a bit of angst from them, right? Also, I've posted a master-list of the names in my bio. Okay, so I hope you enjoy.
Reviews:
San child of the wolves: Okay well the names are now up on my bio.
Ern Estine 13624: (I finally got the numbers right without checking! Progress!) Yeah, me too. And thanks, as always!
BreakfastForLife: But for all of it, they're only referred to by their ICU-given names in dialogue. Not in text. So I can't do that. But now there's a master-list on my bio.
Ele15: He really does. XD Glad you liked that. Small little puns. Aw... Sorry about that! But they really are. It's like in the thirties and forties; a few coloured people made it big, but every other coloured person was treated like shit. Yeah, but he tried. And in fairness, it wasn't his fault Atem said that. That's true, but there are seven possible Artists. And thanks! I saw your review just before I posted this so great timing!
When Marik was seven, all he wanted was something pink. No one knew – or wanted to know – why he was so fascinated by the colour.
Maybe it was because his days were filled with nothing but browns and blacks and creams.
Maybe he just wanted something vibrant like his personality, or a colour to match his eyes.
Maybe it was because he wanted the girl tomb keeper around his age – Sanaa – to like him as she also wanted something pink.
Whatever it was, he just wanted something pink.
So when his eighth birthday rolled around, he was hoping for something of that colour. He had certainly dropped enough hints.
And yet, his present was a scroll with even more things to learn and memorise for the tomb keeper initiation.
"It'll do you good," his father had told him, clapping him on the back a little harder than was necessary as Ishizu watched him open his present with a proud smile.
On his way back to his room, a boy that looked like him passed by and mumbled, "Happy Birthday."
Marik knew him. Well, he knew of him. His name was similar to Marik's.
"Thanks!" Marik called back to him but the boy was gone.
Marik sighed and continued towards his room. When he reached it, he blinked.
A poorly wrapped package sat on his bed, waiting for him. Marik hesitated.
He was only meant to get one present on his birthday. That was the scroll. He wasn't meant to get anymore.
Slowly, he tugged a piece of paper away. Pink.
The rest of the paper quickly followed the first and Marik picked up the garment. Pink robes.
They were just like his own, but with curves and a small dip at the hem.
Marik's eyes began to light up and a smile tugged at his lips.
It was pink.
"Bet you a hundred Zira that the Artist struck again when we were at school," Marik snorted.
Bakura hummed as he followed him out of the building. "I don't take on bets that I know I'll lose. You know me better than that, Giraffe."
"Alright then." Marik turned to him with a smirk. "I bet you a hundred Zira that the Artist didn't strike again while we were at school."
Bakura shot him a look. "If I take that bet, I know you're going to just go back to the section on your motorbike and wash it off."
"Zorc would kill me if I did that," Marik protested, still smirking.
"So?" Bakura's smirk matched his. "I know you'd do it."
Marik's smirk fell. "Touché." He unzipped his schoolbag and pulled his helmet out as they neared his motorbike. "Do you want a lift to work?" He offered. "It's on my way, so I don't mind."
Bakura shook his head. "Nah. I'll walk."
"Well I'm dropping you off anyway." Marik passed him a spare helmet.
Bakura took it and placed it on the seat of Marik's motorbike. "I don't want a lift to work, Marik. I don't need one. Okay?"
"I know you don't need one, but I want to give you a lift." Marik frowned. "Is something wrong?"
Bakura shook his head. "No. I just want to walk. When has that ever translated to 'something's wrong'?"
"Pretty much every time you say it," Marik shot back.
"I'll be fine, Giraffe." Bakura flipped a Zippo lighter out of his pocket. "I've got this."
"Yeah. Fat lot of good that did you when Lynx attacked," Marik muttered.
Bakura narrowed his eyes. "That was different."
"How so?" Marik folded his arms.
Bakura opened his mouth to respond, but shook his head. "You know what? I'm not going into this with you. It's none of your business." Bakura turned away. "Same time in your Ice Cube tonight?"
Marik nodded. "Sure," he muttered. "Whatever." He pulled on his helmet as Bakura began to walk away.
"Still offering a ride?"
Marik turned at the sound of the voice and scowled. "What do you want, Phoenix."
Malik grinned at him. "Just looking for a ride to work."
"Well I didn't offer it to you, did I?" Marik folded his arms. "Besides, I don't have a spare helmet."
Malik raised an eyebrow. "You invited Necro for a ride."
"Yeah, well he's an asshole. If I crash, he could probably use a knock to the head to set him straight," Marik snorted.
Malik's eyes trailed to behind Marik. "So you don't have a spare?"
"I already told you." Marik's eyes narrowed. "No."
"So that's not a spare helmet sitting on your motorbike?" Malik smirked. Marik glanced at it and muttered a curse under his breath. "So does this mean I get a ride?"
"No." Marik opened the compartment under the seat and stowed the helmet away in it. "Now piss off."
Malik frowned. "Jeez, you're snappy today. What? Wake up on the wrong side of the cube?"
"Just go away, Phoenix," Marik snapped. "I'm not giving you a ride."
"But why not?" Malik pressed.
"Because you're a psychotic dick and I can't trust you not to throw me off my bike when it's going sixty or seventy miles an hour," Marik replied, turning to face him again.
"It's a five minute journey. At most."
"Yeah, well I'm a fast and angry driver and I can go fast. I don't trust you. End of discussion." Marik climbed onto his bike. "Now piss off." Malik caught his arm. Marik growled and pushed him away. "Don't touch me!"
Hurt flashed through Malik's eyes but he let go. "Please?"
Marik huffed and took off his helmet. "Why do you even want a ride?"
Malik shrugged. "I just do. Is that so much to ask for, partner?"
Marik scowled. "We already agreed to do separate projects." He began to pull his helmet on again. "Now leave me alone; I'm going to be late for work."
Malik's eyes narrowed. "Please."
"I already told you; no." Marik adjusted his helmet. "Now leave."
Malik snorted and turned away. "Whatever. Don't know why I even asked. Have a nice day, drag queen."
Marik tensed and glared after him. "I'm not a drag queen!"
Malik glanced at him over his shoulder. "Tell that to the uniform you're wearing."
Indeed, Marik was wearing a pink jacket, white shirt and blue skirt. The ICU girls' uniform.
"Shut up, you…" Marik ground his teeth together. "Fucking… lion!" It wasn't much of an insult. In fact; it wasn't an insult at all.
Malik's hair just reminded him of a lion's mane, so he went with it. But – somehow – it had the desired effect.
Malik froze for a moment before turning and walking back to Marik.
Marik tensed again, but glared up at Malik as he approached. Malik gripped his arm tightly and grasped Marik's neck. Marik's eyes widened.
"You feel this part of your throat?" Malik ran his thumb along Marik's jugular. "Right here?" Marik swallowed and nodded. "If you ever – ever – call me a lion again…" Malik spat at him. "I will rip your throat out with my teeth and let you bleed out in front of me. Understood?"
Marik growled but nodded. Malik roughly released him and stormed off before Marik could even yell at him for grabbing his neck.
Marik watched him leave for a moment before rubbing his throat. There was no denying it; Malik was fucked up. Who got insulted by being called a lion?
Marik shook his head and wiped the spit off his helmet before starting up his engine. He would never get that psychopath.
"Malik, can you please just do me a solid and let me out early?"
Malik glanced at his watch. "No can do, Lynx. That's your third one this week. You know the rules; three strikes equals one day in the zoo."
Behind the bars, Keith glared at him. "Do I have to wear the lynx costume?"
Malik stared at him. "Did you really just ask me that?" He looked over his shoulder. "Hey Eel! Lynx just asked if he has to wear the costume!"
Noah from section one burst into laughter from the enclosure across from Keith. He was covered in an eel costume, lying in the water. "What a nube."
"You're telling me?" Malik smirked and looked back at Keith. "Put on the damn costume."
"In front of you?"
Malik raised an eyebrow. "Yes; because I really want to see your ugly ass. No, dumbass. In the changing room." He pointed to a small log cabin in the corner of Keith's enclosure.
Keith hesitated before taking the costume and walking towards it.
Malik smirked as he watched him leave.
"Master Phoenix," Noah called, turning onto his stomach in the water. "You have a visitor."
"What did I tell you about calling me that?" Malik narrowed his eyes.
Noah just smiled and pointed to the boy standing a little behind Malik.
Malik sighed but turned towards him. "Oh. Hi, Dove."
Ryou waved with a small smile.
"Everything okay?" Malik asked.
Ryou hesitated before showing him the notebook in his hand. You need to apologise to Giraffe.
Malik scowled. "Why the hell would I do that?" He snapped.
Ryou shook his head and took back the notebook. Why wouldn't you? He wrote.
Malik didn't look at him. He focused on the notebook. "He called me a… you-know-what."
Ryou's eyes softened and he let out a silent breath. Malik, he wrote, you know he didn't mean it.
"I know."
He doesn't know what it means to you.
"You think I don't know that?" Malik snapped.
Ryou flinched and took a small step towards him, but Malik stepped back. Malik, talk to me.
"I need to work, Dove." Malik grabbed the bag of feed and poured some through the hole in the cage into Keith's bowl.
Ryou frowned and tapped Malik on the shoulder until he turned around. Talk to him. Apologise. Or explain why you reacted like that.
"No." Malik placed the bag of feed at his feet. "He'd laugh."
Ryou shook his head. Trust me, he scribbled, with something like this, Giraffe wouldn't laugh. Then a smile tugged at his lips. Giraffe wouldn't laugh. He should use that in a poem.
Malik raised an eyebrow. "Why are you smiling."
Ryou shook his head. Poem idea. Now go talk to him!
"But-"
I'll cover for you, Ryou bargained. You only have half an hour left. Go talk to him and I'll cover for you. I've done it enough times.
"Listen to the boy, Phoenix," Noah called.
"You don't even know what we're talking about," Malik snapped at him.
"Yes I do. I have a very clear view of his notebook from here." Noah smiled at Ryou. "By the way, you have lovely handwriting."
Ryou blinked. Thanks?
"You're welcome." Noah looked at Malik. "Get back to him Phoenix. If anyone gives the little Dove trouble, I'll sort them out."
"You're stuck behind a cage in an eel costume," Malik muttered.
Noah's smile became a predatory smirk. "Yes, but there are two kings in this zoo. One is you; master of the food and inhabitants. But I'm the king behind bars. People will listen to me."
Malik sighed, kicking the ground. "Fine." He looked at Ryou. "You just need to feed Eel, Jaguar and Leopard. Don't let anyone out early and don't let the boss see you when you drop the keys into my locker."
Ryou saluted him with a cheery grin.
"And don't do that."
Ryou's grin grew and he lowered his hand to the notebook again. Okay. Feed Eel, Jaguar and Leopard, then drop your keys off and don't get caught. Got it.
Malik took off his cap and put it on Ryou's head before handing him the keys. "Best of luck," he called as he walked away. "You'll need it."
Marik scowled as he typed in the code. Again.
Error: Please re-type code.
Marik's scowl morphed into a glare and he slammed his fingers down as he re-typed the code.
Error: Please re-type code.
"Gods dammit!" He snarled, slamming the computer shut. After a minute, he opened it again, petting the side. "Okay, I'm sorry; I didn't mean it. Just please work!"
He typed in the code again.
Error: Please re-type code.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay; I'm giving you one more chance. Deal?" He gave the computer a stern look. "Don't do this to me again."
He typed in the code once more. His fingers glided across it this time.
Error: Please re-type code.
Marik gritted his teeth and pointed at the computer. "This is the last time; I swear. If you don't work this time, I will murder you."
He pressed each key with caution, only using one finger and double and triple checking each number to make sure it was right.
He quadruple checked it and pressed enter.
Error: Please re-type code.
"You know what? Fuck you." He slammed the computer shut again. "I don't need you."
He sat there with folded arms for a moment before peeking at his computer.
He opened it again. "I'm sorry; I won't do it again. Just please w-"
He paused when he heard a knock at the door and frowned. He glanced at it to see a mane of blonde hair in one corner.
His frown deepened as he looked at his computer. "I'll be back soon. And you'd better let me enter the code when I come back!"
He stood up and strode over to the door. "What do you want?" He sighed as he opened it.
Malik glanced inside. "Why were you talking to the computer?"
"Because it wasn't working." Marik folded his arms and leaned against the door. "I was telling it off. Now why are you here?"
Malik hesitated, seeming lost between pressing about the computer and stating his purpose. He settled for the latter. "I'm sorry."
Marik's eyebrows shot up. "Come again?"
"I said I'm sorry." Malik kicked at the ground. "I shouldn't have threatened to kill you earlier."
Marik narrowed his eyes. "I can't tell if you're being sincere or getting me to lower my guard so you can bite my throat out."
"I wouldn't actually do that." Malik shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It was just… instinct. Or a trigger. I don't even know."
Marik tilted his head. "Do I want to know what kind of trigger?"
"When you-" Malik stopped himself and shook his head. "No. You don't want to know. Trust me."
Marik watched him for a moment before nodding. "Alright then." He turned away. "Apology accepted. Now I need to go murder a computer who-" He raised his voice and glared at the computer. "-I haven't heard an apology from yet!"
Malik stared at him. "You're weird."
Marik snorted and looked at him over his shoulder. "This coming from you?"
Malik shrugged. "Fair point." He bit the inside of his cheek. "Do you want me to help? I mean, we were sort of meant to do the project together. And I'm good at coding."
Marik frowned. "Really?"
Malik nodded. "Yeah. Check the grades outside the class; I'm top in computers." It was the only class he was the top of. Everything else, he was near the bottom.
Marik sighed. "Fine. If you can get this code in, you can help." He led Malik over to the computer and tried typing in the code again. "Work, work, work," he chanted as it loaded.
Error: Please re-type code.
"Let me." Malik moved the computer so he could type and quickly typed in the code.
Coding successful. View your project?
Malik clicked yes and grinned at Marik as it loaded. "See?"
Marik just stared at the computer. "So you'll work for him and not me?"
"You missed a zero in the seventh column," Marik explained. "You had a one in its place."
Marik glanced at him. "Oh…" He looked back at the computer and pet the side of it. "Sorry."
Malik snorted but looked at the screen. "So what was the code for?"
"That." Marik pointed. "The biker's jacket."
Malik frowned. "Just the jacket?" Marik nodded. "Not his body? Heck, not even his hair?" Marik shook his head and Malik met his gaze. "You need my help."
Marik looked away. "I could do it on my own," he muttered, "but I guess you're better at it than I am… So I… guess you can help."
Malik chuckled. Marik really didn't like accepting help. "Good to know. What do we need to do next?"
He made his way past the security cameras, not bothering to hide. The system was disabled. They wouldn't see him.
When he reached the wall that he favoured, he paused.
Something was growing a bit… dull about using the same place.
It was expected of him.
He was spreading thoughts of revolution, but he was stuck in a rut.
He smirked and looked around.
Glass coffins trapped sleeping prisoners. Only one was free; him.
He was free.
He took the can out of his pocket and walked over to the nearest coffin.
Inside, Polar lay curled up with her blonde hair falling over her hand.
A D-cup parasite. He didn't quite agree with Flamingo. Polar seemed to be making Crystal quite happy anyway.
He hadn't seen them kiss, but section seventeen was known as the gay section for a reason. Even most of the bullies were gay.
Well, in a way. Pansexual. Well, no. That was an insult to pansexuals and panromantics. They were their own sexuality. Fuck you, fuck you and fuck you especially. Anything that moved, they would lust after.
Anything that moved, they would fuck if they had the chance; consenting or not.
He crept closer and gave the glass a quick, experimental spray. The paint dripped slightly, but it dried quickly.
Perfect.
He moved away from Polar's coffin and did the same to Flamingo's. Same place, same effect.
He then moved to Blue's. And Retriever's.
Outside his own coffin, he didn't hesitate to spray the same spot with paint.
This way; no one would be caught.
No one would know.
No one but him.
"He's going to kill us this time," Marik mumbled as Yugi dripped the hydraulic acid into the beaker of solution. "He's really going to kill us."
"No he's not." Yugi plugged the acid once the solution began to turn pink. "Can you mix that in?"
Marik took the glass spoon and stirred the mixture. "The Artist sprayed it all over his Ice Cube. He'll kill us."
"No," Yugi insisted, "he won't." He added a bit more acid.
Marik's hand shot away from the beaker as the acid splashed up against the edge. "Watch it!"
"Sorry." Yugi shrugged. "Will you stir it again?"
Marik huffed but began stirring it again. "He'll kill us."
Yugi sighed, letting his head drop. "You're not going to let this topic go, are you?"
Marik grinned. "Humour me for a bit and I might."
Yugi shook his head, leaning on the desk. "Fine. He won't kill us. He'll probably find a way to give us another restriction, but he won't kill us."
Marik snorted. "What else can he do? Send us all into the zoo? Phoenix is the zookeeper. The zoo wouldn't run without him."
"He could get someone to cover for him." Yugi shrugged.
"But what about our jobs?" Marik pressed. "He can't just take twenty four people out of jobs."
"Twenty five," Yugi sighed. "Meerkat from section sixteen is being pushed into seventeen. That's who the empty Ice Cube is going to."
"Twenty five then." Marik folded his arms. "He can't take twenty five of us out of jobs."
"Twenty three," Yugi cut in. "Dove and Princess have exemptions."
Marik rolled his eyes. "Would you make up your mind on the number? Twenty three, then. He can't take twenty three of us out of jobs."
"He has done before," Yugi pointed out.
"But that was in our first month!" Marik protested. "That's when we were all learning the system and he showed us the zoo. Everyone from every section spent a day there."
"True." Yugi shrugged. "Look, I don't know what restriction he could give us. But he won't kill us."
"The Artist wrote Better to fight for something than live for nothing on Zorc's cube. Implying Zorc's the nothing we're living for." Marik sighed, stirring the liquid despite the fact that he no longer needed to. "Someone's going to die by the end of this."
Yugi glanced at Professor Frank to make sure that he wasn't listening before turning back to Marik. "That's not-"
"I'm not saying it'll be the Artist." Marik's hand stilled. "But if the Artist's caught, they'll be executed. You know that as well as I do."
Yugi swallowed. "Okay, I've humoured you enough," he muttered, scribbling the time it took for the solution to turn pink into his logbook. "Now can we change the subject?"
Marik sighed. "Fine, what do you want to talk about?"
Yugi grinned and looked up at him. "Your love life."
"Non-existent."
"Not true," Yugi sang – softly, so they wouldn't get caught. Professor Frank handed out restrictions like they were smarties. "Flamingo saw Phoenix in your Ice Cube yesterday."
Marik snorted, tapping the spoon against the beaker. Any acid that still clung to it was shaken off. "For an ace, she sure likes to talk about other peoples' love lives." He shook his head. "Phoenix called me a drag queen yesterday, so he came over to apologise and offered to help me with Banner's project."
Yugi frowned. "Weren't you two paired up on that anyway?"
"Yup." Marik set the spoon down by the beaker. "We sort of decided to split off and do it on our own, but you know I'm hopeless with computers. So now we're doing it together."
"Boys?" Professor Frank approached them. "Are you finished?"
Yugi nodded and scribbled the last timing in their logbook. "Yes, sir."
Professor Frank frowned at the liquid. "I said pink. Not red. But it will do, I suppose." He snatched the logbook and walked off.
Marik rolled his eyes and turned back to Yugi. "What about your love life?"
Yugi blinked. "My what?"
Marik smirked. "Don't play dumb. I know you like Griff-"
"Don't say it!" Yugi whined.
"So it's true?" Marik leaned closer.
Yugi folded his arms. "Maybe," he muttered. "And I'm not telling him."
Marik sighed. "You still think he doesn't like you? Calico, he looks at you like you're the sun."
Yugi blinked. "You mean he squints at me and thinks I'm irritating in the morning?"
"Don't be an ass. You know what I mean." Marik rolled his eyes. "Just tell him."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
Yugi shook his head. "He doesn't like me, Giraffe." He grinned. "But Phoenix likes you. And you like him."
Marik scowled at him. "Say that again and I swear, at lunch I will stab you with a plastic spoon and scoop out your kidneys."
"But you do!" Yugi giggled. "Come on, you don't need to lie to me."
Marik's scowl deepened. "Lunch; you will lose your kidneys."
"But you do!"
"Lunch. Kidneys."
"But-"
"I will fucking eat them in front of you; don't test me on this."
"We've been going over this for weeks!" Crowler glared at the class. "Some of you, I know are fine." He smiled at Zane and Chazz. "As can be seen from your test scores however, some of you are doing terribly."
Marik kept his gaze on his desk.
Crowler waved a collection of sheets in his hand. "I'll pass these out. But remember; we're doing an oral quiz now that counts for half of that grade. Even if you failed your paper, you could pass the quiz."
"What system are we going with this month?" Mana asked, picking at her uniform. It had a seventeen embroidered on it now instead of a sixteen.
"Irish," Crowler decided. "Forty per cent or above is a pass."
Marik swallowed. This wasn't bad. Even if he completely flunked his paper, he could make up some points on the pop quiz.
"Remember to halve the marks you got on your paper!" Crowler called as he handed them out.
For some students, he handed the paper to them. For others, he dropped it on their desk, or the ground by their desk.
Marik scrambled for his paper as it landed by his foot. He scanned the answers. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Right. Wait, no. Wrong. Half-marks. Wrong. Half-marks. Right. Wait… no, he was right on that one.
At the bottom of the paper, seven per cent was marked in blood red.
Marik closed his eyes. It was okay. He just had to do well in the oral quiz.
Wait, he never halved it. Three and a half. Could they even give a half per cent?
Apparently so.
He took a deep breath. Three and a half. He just had to get thirty six and a half per cent and he would be fine.
He was so screwed.
Crowler stood at the top of the classroom. "For those of you who got above seventy, you don't need to participate," he sighed. "Study and get ahead of your classmates. Again. For the rest of you lastards-" He glared at them. Marik looked around. No one but sections with seven, eight or nine has to participate. "-the oral will be on lakes and furamas."
Marik squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. No, no, no. He hated those sections.
"Giraffe!"
"Y-yes?"
"What is a furama?"
Marik swallowed. "It's-it's a levelled mountain."
"Levelled by what?" Crowler pressed. "Mechanical weathering, chemical weathering, human activity or geyser-full lakes?"
"Um…" Marik swallowed. "Chemical weathering?"
Crowler sighed. "Can someone else tell me?" He looked around. "Meerkat."
Mana glanced at Marik before looking back at Crowler. "Human activity and geyser-full lakes."
"Good." Crowler turned back to Marik. "Giraffe. Name the three types of lakes – without looking at Dove."
"G-geyser-full, ridden and still," Marik forced out.
"Sub-categories of ridden."
"U-Uh…" Marik's toes curled and rubbed against one another as he tried to distract himself from the grating gaze. "Choppy and lazy."
"Which is more dangerous?"
"C-Choppy?"
"Princess," he called, "can you tell us?"
"Lazy," Shizuka mumbled. She didn't look at Marik.
"Why?"
"They're more likely to be part geyser-full as well and are prone to drawing stormy weather."
"Excellent."
Crowler turned back to Marik. "Why are choppy less dangerous, Giraffe?"
Marik took a slow breath. "Uh… the current is fast and less likely to clog," he mumbled.
"And how do choppy ridden lakes help form furamas?"
"Sir, that's unfair."
Marik's eyes widened and he glanced behind him. Malik. Was he insane?
Crowler looked past Marik. "Phoenix? Did you say something?"
Malik stood up. "I said that's unfair. We haven't studied that yet. You barely taught us about subcategories of lakes. You can't expect Giraffe to know a subcategory of a subcategory."
"Sit down. Now." Crowler's nostrils flared.
Everyone was either watching Malik or pretending not to watch him.
"I'm not going to sit down until you apologise."
No one was even trying to pretend not to watch him anymore.
Crowler's eyes widened. "Apologise?" His voice almost cracked at a whisper. "To a lastard?"
"Yes." Malik glared at him.
"Go to the principal's office, Phoenix."
"After you apologise."
Crowler's eyes and nostril's flared and he grabbed Malik's ear. "Open your books and study subcategories of lakes," he snapped as he dragged Malik out of the room.
Marik stood up to follow them but Ryou tugged him down again.
"But-"
Ryou shook his head. Phoenix. Did. For. You, he signed. Don't wreck. Trouble; he not mind.
Marik hesitantly nodded, trying to piece together the sentence.
Phoenix did it for you. Don't wreck the chance he gave you. He doesn't mind the trouble.
Marik looked at the door once more before allowing Ryou to pull him into his seat again.
Maybe he was right.
"Hey…"
Malik looked up from the sack of feed. Marik.
"Hey," he greeted with a small frown as he stood upright. "Is there… a reason you're here? Visiting hours are closed."
"Yeah, I know." Marik dug his heeled shoe into the ground.
Malik folded his arms. "So why are you here?" He asked. "I can't give private tours unless they're booked a month in advance."
"I know."
"Then why are you here?" He repeated.
Marik shrugged. For a moment, he was silent.
Just as Malik was about to pick up the feed again, he spoke. "Thanks. For earlier."
Malik blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"When you stood up for me. In Crowler's oral quiz." Marik kicked at the ground. He still refused to meet Malik's gaze. "Thanks. It means a lot."
Malik blinked again before snorting. "Well it shouldn't." He hauled the sack over his shoulder and walked towards the next cage. "It didn't mean anything."
He peered through the bars. A mound of red, blue and yellow feathers sat at the edge.
"Come on, Parrot; you know the deal. Five feet away until I'm done feeding you."
Yuma from section forty nine huffed but began stepping away. "Come on, sarge. You know me."
"I know everyone here," Malik chuckled. "No one gets special treatment." He poured the feed through the slot. "Okay, go for it."
Yuma lunged for the food as Malik turned back to Marik.
"As I was saying, I would have done it for anyone."
Marik shrugged again. "Well, you didn't. You did it for me. So thank you."
"Stop thanking me," Malik insisted. "It was nothing big."
Even still, Marik followed him as he moved on to the next cage. "Did Principal Sheppard give out?"
"No more than usual," Malik grunted as he lowered the bag. "Orca, come out."
Tori from section twenty six swam up to the edge of the pool and leaned on the wall. "Hey, Phoenix," she greeted with a smile.
"That's four point six feet. Back up point four of a foot," Malik sighed.
Tori rolled her eyes, but obliged. Malik poured the food through the slot and Tori swam closer again.
"What did he say?" Marik mumbled as he watched Tori struggle to reach the food from the water.
Malik shrugged. "Told me not to do it again and to wait outside, and then he told Crowler to ease up on the 'lastards you're bringing me; they won't do anything, it's why they're called lastards'."
Marik nodded. "That does sound like something he'd say…"
"That's because he said it." Malik hoisted the bag up again. "Now are you just going to follow me around and ask questions, or can you help me with the feeding?"
"Sure." Marik nodded. "What do you want me to do?"
Malik blinked and looked away from him. "Forget it."
"Then why did you ask me?" Marik frowned.
"I was hoping you'd say no and leave." Malik walked towards Noah's cage. "Eel, come out."
Nothing.
Malik's eyes narrowed. "I'll give you until I count to three. One." Nothing. "Two." Nothing. "Th-"
"Calm down." Noah slithered into the pool from the other side of the cage. "You can't blame a man for relieving himself if he needs to."
Malik snorted. "Next time, tell me what you're doing." He poured the feed through the bars. "When's your restriction ending?"
"Next week." Noah grinned and his eyes flittered to Marik. "And who's this?"
"Gi-" Marik began, but he was cut off by Malik.
"A friend of mine." He stopped pouring in feed.
"Does this friend have a name?" Noah tilted his head.
"Yeah. It's 'eat your damn dinner before I take it off you'." Malik turned and walked towards Keith's cage with Marik following.
"Why didn't you just let me tell him my name?" He asked.
"Names here have a lot of power. If you know someone's name and they haven't been in the zoo before, it's likely that they owe you a favour." Malik shook his head. "If you don't owe them, you soon will. And Eel isn't someone you want to owe a single Zira to."
He peered into the cage. "Lynx?"
Keith was lying on the ground a few feet away. He jumped like a startled cat, staring at Malik with wide eyes.
Malik chuckled and began pouring feed through the bars. "It's always the toughies."
Marik shook his head. "We keep getting off-topic."
"Oh?" Malik raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realise that we still had one."
"Well we do." Marik folded his arms. "Look, I know you don't like being thanked – for whatever reason – but thank you. I really appreciate what you did."
Malik watched him for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Thanks accepted." He hauled the bag over his shoulder. "I need to drop this off at the office. Can I get a ride back to the cubes, or should I walk again?"
Marik grinned. "Will you help me with the project if I give you a lift?"
Malik smirked and shrugged one shoulder. "I might. Have I got a lift?"
Marik turned away. "Meet me at the gate in ten minutes, or I'm leaving," he called as he walked away.
When Bakura walked out of the club, Ryou was there.
He wasn't sure why, but he was there.
"Can I help you?" He asked, folding his arms.
Ryou shrugged. Thought I'd give you a lift home, he signed. I don't trust you not to be attacked.
Bakura narrowed his eyes. "How did you know I work here?"
Ryou scoffed. Please. Give me some credit. Everyone knows the illusive Phantom here.
Bakura looked away. "Don't call me that."
He expected a snarky response, but Ryou nodded. Okay. Anyway, I just came to make sure you didn't get attacked.
Bakura folded his arms. "Sure you didn't just come to accuse me of being the Artist?" A hint of bitterness washed over his voice.
Ryou nodded. No mentions of the Artist. Pinky promise. Ryou held up his pinky.
Bakura stared at it for a moment before snorting. "What are you? Six?" He shook his head. "Fine. You can take me back."
Ryou blinked. You're not going to change first?
In his pale blue shorts, black net top and black knee-high boots, Bakura was bound to draw attention.
Bakura shrugged. "Why should I?"
You'll be cold, Ryou pointed out. It's nearly winter.
The ICU always adjusted the temperature to the season. In summer, Bakura would have been fine. But with winter nearing, their breath steamed with every exhale.
Even standing in the club doorway with insulation and body heat from inside, he was shivering.
"Yeah, well I don't have anything else with me."
Ryou watched him for a moment before shrugging off his jacket and holding it out to him.
Bakura frowned at it. "What's that for?"
Ryou raised an eyebrow and brandished the jacket. He couldn't sign one-handed.
"You want me to wear it?" Bakura raised an eyebrow.
Ryou nodded.
Bakura's scowl returned. "Why?"
Ryou huffed and dropped it over Bakura's head. So you won't be cold, dumbass. Now put it on.
For a moment, Bakura looked like he was about to argue. Then, he slipped it on. "Thanks…"
Ryou smiled. Don't worry about it.
He turned and they began walking back towards section seventeen.
"You know," Bakura commented, "sections with seven, eight and nine all have design layouts similar to a sewage system. I think that might be why everyone in those sections are called lastards. If it was the ones, twos and threes, it'd probably be firstards."
I'm sorry, but firstards? Ryou shook his head. If anything, they'd be onekers. Or conets or something like that.
Bakura frowned. "How would you pronounce them? You only spelled them out there."
One-ker and c-one-t, Ryou replied.
A smirk tugged at Bakura's lips. "Okay, not bad," he mumbled. He hugged Ryou's jacket closer around himself.
It was thick and warm and still smelled of Ryou's cologne – gods that smell was amazing. Bakura would have to ask him which one he-
No. No, no, no. Bakura wasn't going there again. Not after Marik.
"We should start calling them that," he muttered. A distraction. Anything to distract himself. "See if we can spread it."
Know- won't- popular.
Bakura frowned and looked at Ryou again. "What? Sorry, I wasn't really paying attention."
Ryou rolled his eyes. I said you know it won't spread; they're too popular.
"Not in these sections," Bakura snorted.
Ryou shrugged. We can try if you want. Bakura nodded.
Neither of them tried to strike up conversation again for the rest of the walk. When they reached Bakura's ice cube, Ryou tapped his shoulder.
Just so you know, he signed, I don't think you're the Artist. But a lot of people do. Be careful, okay?
Bakura nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I- Wait." His brows furrowed. "You don't have a job, right?"
Ryou shook his head. Zorc gave me an exemption because I can't talk.
"Then how did you get out to bring me back?" Bakura shook his head. "You're meant to be in your cube."
The corner of Ryou's lip curled into a smirk. I have my ways. He turned away and waved goodbye over his shoulder.
He forgot his jacket. Bakura had half a mind to catch up to him and give it back.
It was his after all.
But then again, it was a comfy jacket, and Bakura's cube always got a bit too cold for his liking in the winter.
He could use the extra blanket.
DD: And a nice bit of fluff to end the chapter. Don't worry. This is probably going to be the last chapter that ends nicely until the end. If the end ends nicely. I'm caught between two endings. But – that's right – I have an end in mind! Woo! Please review! See you next time, Killer Queens!