A/N: Boo! :)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
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After dinner Ryou had gone home, Mariku went back to his game, Ishizu went up to her study, and Malik went to his room.
Just a few days into his grounding and he was already bored to death, even though he hadn't really spent much of his grounding…well, grounded.
Malik attempted sleep first. He was exhausted, full of three quarters of a slice of pizza, and avoiding his homework. He wasn't quite sure how long it took him to realize he wasn't going to get any sleep, but definitely before midnight, he found himself tugging into a pair of denim straight-legged jeans and a purple- and navy blue-striped t-shirt—both of which were baggy on him—over his costume.
He felt like a straight guy.
Nevertheless, Malik slung his backpack over his shoulder and climbed through his window, as he had done the last time he sneaked out. Before he knew it, he was in his full bodysuit, backpack hidden far away and out of Lynx's stalking radius, and his feet were touching down gently on his and Lynx's rooftop.
"Good evening," greeted his not-so rival without even turning to look at him.
Malik didn't say anything, climbing to the ledge of the building and taking a seat next to Lynx, who was on his back, sprawled dangerously on the edge of the building as he participated in a staring contest with the moon.
There was a very long silence. A comfortable, calming silence that Malik hesitated to break with:
"How did you know my sister works at that museum?"
Lynx's chest deflated noisily through parted lips, as if he'd just taken a drag from a too-strong cigarette. "It was a coincidence, Fafi."
"No, it wasn't."
"Yes, it was."
"No."
"Yes."
"Lynx."
"Fafi."
"I'm serious." Malik raised his eyebrows and looked at the general area of Lynx's eyes under his mask. "How'd you know?"
Lynx sighed again and sat up, flipping his legs over the edge of the building and leaning back on his palms. He was quiet for a long time, and eventually Malik realized he wasn't going to answer.
"Do you know who I am?" Malik asked, leaning closer to Lynx as if that would draw out a response.
"Unless you want to do something fun, kid, go home," Lynx said after a short moment, in which the cold breeze cut through the distance between them.
"I have a right to know."
"And I have a right to not tell you."
"Have you followed me home? For real?"
"You're ridiculous," Lynx said, and Malik knew he was rolling his eyes.
"How is me wondering if I'm being stalked ridiculous?" he demanded, almost standing up just so he could look down on his partner and cross his arms.
"Yes, because stalking you is honestly all I live for."
"At this point, I wouldn't fucking be surprised." Malik glared at Lynx even though he couldn't see it; even though he was still calm through Malik's accusations. "Look, if you want to know something about me, ask. I've told you before that I wouldn't mind being actual friends instead of this…this whatever. But I don't appreciate you going behind my back and acting like a Goddamn creep."
Lynx began to laugh, and that set Malik off more than anything else he possibly could have thought to do.
"Fafi, you are quite the individual, you know that? A lunatic, really," the white-clad villain said, a hand on his stomach, stray chuckles escaping his lips here and there.
Malik silently glowered at his rival, his cheeks flushed with rage under his mask. Instead of giving in to another outburst, he chose to hold his tongue, waiting for Lynx to elaborate.
"No, I haven't been 'stalking' you. You said you sister works at a museum and I figured that one was the most likely because it's the biggest in the area." Lynx's blank mask stared at Malik as he spoke. "Really, give me some credit."
Malik blew out a load of carbon dioxide, somewhat relieved. There was the chance that Lynx was lying, but there was just as much of a chance that he wasn't. Honestly, his white-clad companion probably wouldn't admit it either way, and Malik figured there wasn't much more that he could do other than quiet down about it and keep an extra eye open from now on.
"What are we doing tonight, then?" Malik wondered, tracing the white and lavender accents on his forearm.
"I was thinking a moonlit dinner on the river. We could split a bottle of chardonnay and listen to smooth jazz," Lynx purred, and if he were a real cat his tail would have been swishing behind him, his pupils dilated twice their normal size. Malik briefly wondered what color his eyes were before he shook off the curiosity. No need for both of them to be stalkers.
"No?" Lynx said after a short silence. "Then you come up with something."
Malik looked down at his feet hanging off the side of the building, his toes wiggling against the backdrop of a busy street. The lights glowed and kept the city alive, specking the tall buildings and bridges, houses and roads like gold nuggets in the soil.
"Let's just sit here."
Malik found himself absorbed by the view, watching the cars pass by, unaware of his looming presence, his lavender eyes watching them and wondering where they were going and if they had someone to go home to. As another zipped by, he was pulled from his trance by Lynx.
"Bo-oring," he drawled, picking at a loose thread on his suit. "Fafi, we really should talk about a proper diet plan for you if it's—"
"No, just think about it. We're so close to owning this town, Lynx. We've done so much these last few weeks," he said. "Every day there's more stuff on the news about the anonymous crimes going on."
Lynx shifted positions suddenly, sliding off the ledge and onto his feet. "That reminds me."
Malik watched as Lynx began to pace, which seemed to have become his new 'plotting' habit.
"We've entered stage two." Lynx paused for dramatics, pointedly swiveling around and looking at Malik before continuing his pacing. "Stage two is a critical part of our plan. This is where things have begun to get serious."
Malik raised an eyebrow, now fully turned around so his back was to the city and left foot rested on the rooftop, the other crossed effeminately over his knee. "Okay, well I don't—"
"Shh!" Lynx held up a hand to silence him. "Listen. As I said, this is critical."
His English accent curled dangerously around the word "critical".
"We're calling this stage 'panic' because people are starting to get more than just worried about recent events and scenarios you and I have caused." Lynx continued to pace. "In this stage, we will more than likely run into the heroes a bit more and we will have to be a lot sneakier about what we do."
Malik nodded, slightly unnerved by how serious Lynx's tone was. There weren't many other times when there'd been a distinct lack of sarcasm and teasing behind his words, and the thought almost gave him chills. The Egyptian teen was almost as entranced by the rare occurrence as he was by the magnificent view.
"So basically, don't fuck up."
Nevermind.
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It was another week before Malik was ungrounded.
It was announced at dinner (whole wheat pasta with low sodium alfredo sauce and grilled chicken) and Malik smiled halfheartedly. It didn't really matter to him whether or not he was grounded because he was going to sneak around anyway. His main concern at the moment was the steaming meal on the plate in front of him.
More and more, he was growing tired of his family shoveling food down his throat. He felt himself growing fatter and fatter by the day when all he wanted was to get thinner. The mirror mocked him so bad he had begun to shower only semi-regularly, as nasty as it was.
He needed to do something.
Malik choked down what was on his plate and found himself throwing out a fake yawn. "Guys, I have to head to bed. I have to be at school early tomorrow for a project. Ryou and I were partnered in history to do a presentation on early human migration, so don't be surprised when I'm not here in the morning."
That way he could skip breakfast.
He went upstairs to his room and locked the door behind him.
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By the time two A.M. rolled around, Malik still wasn't tired.
However, he had grown bored of committing the same crimes over and over, being as "sneaky" as possible just to get his mind off everything while his body burned off calories.
He hadn't even stopped by the rooftop tonight because he honestly did not want to be around anyone, even the one person that made him feel like he could be himself, which was weird since he was wearing a mask and costume and Lynx was the only person he knew that (probably) didn't know him as the exotic teenage boy named Malik Ishtar. What did that say about Malik?
Malik (Fast Fist?) was in one of those moods where nothing was going right and all he wanted was to beat his head against the wall until he was in a coma. (Coma diets are magic. He'd lose so much!) He found himself, instead, touching ground on the dumpster by the record store where he sometimes left his stuff before school. It was smelly and disgusting, but also isolated and quiet and that's what he wanted.
Before he could do much thinking, though, a high-pitched voice called out to him from the opening of the alleyway.
He turned and saw the big, sweet eyes of Domino's own Sorcery Chance.
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A/N: Yeah it's been over a year, I know. But I was kind of hoping to take this story somewhere still because it's weird how much I think about it. I'm so glad I finally got around to uploading another chapter to this and I really hope you guy enjoy it!
