8. Guess I'm in Love With Always Feelin' Down
(This Head I Hold - Electric Guest)

"Where are we going?" Marik's head was up against the window as he glared out of it, banging on the glass as the vehicle would bounce through pot holes and over rocks. He could barely keep his eyes open, sleep tempting him so vigorously.

"You'll see when we get there." Rishid had refused to tell Marik anything, and continued to be stern with him. His newfound unwavering nature was causing Marik a lot of problems today.

The boys hadn't spoken much as Rishid drove them off to some place Marik had never been to before. They were way out of town and surrounded by water. He had a feeling they were going to be on the beach all day, probably surfing. If the water hadn't tipped him off, it was definitely the surf boards in the back of the car. For the remainder of the car ride, Marik contemplated whether he should be stubborn and refuse to step out of the car once they arrived.

Eventually, they came to a beach entrance that seemed to be abandoned. It was far more secluded than where they usually hung out during the day or on the weekends, and Marik started to wonder how Rishid had come across this place.

The air was so crisp and refreshing here, and for the first time, he thought he understood what Merit was talking about when she said the air could be dirty. He looked around and saw how crystal clear the water was, and as he ran out towards the shore, he could see fish swimming undisturbed. Was Rishid the only one who knew about this place?

"Grab your board. We're going out until you can barely see the shore."

Marik felt his heart stop for a moment. They never went out quite that far, and he knew there was a reason. It wasn't that he was scared, just that he knew he was probably going to end up extremely sore by the end of the night as a result of whatever it was Rishid had in store for him.

He did as his brother asked of him and they raced out into the water, the previously undisturbed fish swimming away from their stomping feet as quickly as they could. They paddled out to deeper and deeper water, nearly choking on the water that splashed up in their face as the waves became more and more violent.

A little nervous, he turned his head to be the sure the shore was still behind them. It was, but just barely.

"Keep going, Marik. We're going out farther."

He's going to kill me out here. Marik thought. No wonder he had brought them somewhere so barren. It was the perfect place to ditch a body.

The boys stood upright on their surf boards and claimed the waves. They violently fought them, pulling them down into the depths, choking them. However, it took more than that to break Marik's surfing spirit, and he hopped back on top of his board and reclaimed the waves who continued to fight him. They pulled him down until his legs were shaking. He tasted salt on his tongue and felt his eyes burning.

The sun was getting higher and higher in the clear sky, and Marik knew they had to of been out to sea for several hours. He was ready to surrender to the ocean and make his way back to shore, but Rishid grabbed his wrist and forced him back on his board. Now he knew what exactly was going on here. He was being punished in the most spirit breaking yet non-traumatizing way possible.

"Rishid, I'm-I'm sorry! But I can't breathe anymore!" Marik pleaded, grasping onto his board for dear life with shaky arms. He wasn't sure he would make it through another wave.

"Alright, fine! Let's go!" Rishid was content by now, especially considering he was getting torn apart almost just as badly as Marik had been and he was just as ready for a break. They paddled back to shore slowly, the boys' legs weak, and their empty stomachs were doing absolutely nothing to help their situation.

On the shore, they collapsed, breathing hard with limbs shaking. Marik thought he might cry he felt so destroyed. How could the waves he so loved be so cruel to him. Then again, that was what he loved so much about them.

"You... are such... a little shit." Rishid gasped, staring at the clear sky, watching as a far off plane flew by overhead.

"So I've been told," the boy replied, still catching his breath as well. Rishid sat upright and stared at his little brother.

"What's up with you and your temper tantrums, kid? They sure are consuming and they might even be a little contagious. I haven't been angry like that since... well, ever. Guess I love ya more than I thought, huh?" He smiled a little awkwardly. It had been a while since the two of them had ever had such a conversation. Rishid was afraid he might've forgotten how to talk to him, maybe even how to relate to him. Since his new job with his kookie coworkers, he had really blossomed into his own personality. He wasn't quite the same anymore, and he didn't know how to make that work with Marik, who, even after all this time, hadn't changed. He was still that little boy trapped in the darkest part of the tombs.

Marik leaned over his knees and felt his skin grow bumps from the chill of the air. "I must get them from Father. I think... I think I'm a lot more like him than I really want to admit..."

Rishid smiled. "Nah. But hey, even if that is true, your sister can get pretty hot-headed, too, in the right situation. So it's not like you're the only one that inherited the problem."

They were silent for a moment.

"You know, as much as you don't want to admit it, there was truth in what your sister said."

Marik turned his head to glare at Rishid, though his eyes held a look of confusion that intertwined with blossoming rage.

"Not that you like it, necessarily. Just that you're comfortable with it. You're scared to really change because it's new land for you... But, actually, it's not, now that I think about it. You used to be a giddy little brat when you were a kid, before... you know. I don't think a moment went where you weren't smiling from ear-to-ear. You were a real happy kid, Marik. And you were optimistic and full of energy, and a joy for everyone to be around. It isn't new territory, you just gotta figure out how to get back there, that's all. You need to get comfortable with that again."

"I... I don't know how to. I don't deserve to."

Marik pressed the palm of his hand against his forehead, staring at the blindingly bright sand at his feet.

"Well, there's one of the big roots to your problem. You need to stop with this 'what you deserve' thing and realize that it's just time to get better. You are allowed to be happy again."

With every word Rishid said, he felt himself jumping on the defensive. "You know, maybe Ishizu was right. Maybe I love being depressed and maybe I love to loathe myself. It's all good sport, right?"

Rishid shook his head. "No. You're just a sick person trying to get better, that's all. Now get up, it's getting late and I told Ishizu I'd have you back in one piece in time for a late lunch." He grabbed Marik's arm, much more gently than this morning, and helped the boy to his feet, grabbing both of their boards so Marik could rest his poor muscles.

The elder Ishtar man drove them back home, their bellies bellowing. Marik begged Rishid to let them stop by a Mcdonald's on the way home, but to no avail. Ishizu would be, afterall, preparing lunch for them about now, and it would be extremely rude to fill themselves up before coming home. Marik had had enough of being rude.


Author's Note: And here's Chapter 8! Not much to say about this one. Thanks for reading!