Hi, hi! Quick disclaimer: I'm not a Scientist or Psychologist! Anything having to with those fields are merely research based. Please be warned Im most likely wrong about the mechanics of hormones and shit along those lines. In most cases every character in my story who is a weapon would have died due to Serotonin syndrome but it's fiction so fuck off hehehe.
Please enjoy the next installment of Chaotic Calvary.
Bakura slowly awoke. His body felt afloat, engulfed in something weird.
"Bakura this is Yugi! You are in the healing tank."
He opened his eyes. His vision blurred liquid filled it.
"I'm going to extract you now okay?"
He could hardly focus. His mind couldn't grasp what most of what he said meant.
The fluid around him drained to the bottom of the tank. He lost his balance, slamming into the glass.
"Bakura!" The voice was closer. He could hear a creaking noise.
"I got you. It's okay."
He felt himself being carried by multiple hands. He couldn't get his eyes to see right still, being blinded by the surrounding lights.
"Whoa, look at his eyes?"
"They haven't changed since he returned."
"It's a bit scary!"
Scary? Did they mean him?
He felt cold metal press against his skin, being lied down.
"Bakura," He felt a light hit his eyes, "I'm adding eye drops into your eyes okay? It'll help you see properly."
As soon as he felt the drops, he blinked the liquid away. The haze on his eyes faded away.
The group of weapons were around him, staring with curiosity and morbid fascination. He felt like he was on display for anyone to see. A spectacle.
"Wow. How bright." Yami exasperated, amused.
"They haven't changed since he returned. " Kisara grunted, "Should we be concerned! Ours usually revert back." There was a touch of fear in her voice, an unusual occurrence.
Yugi smiled, "Well there's nothing to revert back to. This is him now."
She closed her eyes, visibly indifferent.
Bakura slowly sat up. He felt lethargic yet good. Good as in strong. Strong like powerful. Like his mind was trying to catch up with his body and his body was a ball of raw power. Was he going crazy. He could run a marathon but if you asked him how he did it, he wouldn't be able to articulate it. Brain dead yet able bodied.
He looked around at the room. A bunch of screens and buttons. Hi-tech machinery that looked straight out of a movie. He'd rather it be in a movie but it was real. This nightmare was real.
"How do you feel Bakura?"
Parting his lips felt strange, trying to speak felt stranger, "Fine. Just a little disoriented." Was his voice deeper?
Yugi wrote something on his clipboard, "How raspy."
"His hair is quite spiky too."
"Yea sticking up a bit on the sides."
Bakura tried not to reach to feel the spikes, "Has anything happened? I don't…don't understand any of this situation."
"You finished your first game. Don't you remember?" Akefia asked.
He sadly did and the memories came flooding in full force. His mind was racing too fast but his body was composed. He couldn't even feel his heart rate increase. He panted. Why weren't they linked? Shit! Was he going insane!
The room even morphed and curved, faces deformed and twisted. Crooked visiOn FoR a CrOOkEd MInd.
"Bakura?"
"I feel strange." He answered quickly.
"You should." Yugi smiled, "Your body has gone through a lot of change. I'll go through that with you later."
Bakura spotted highly layered blonde hair enter the room. Malik sat the clothes on the tabled by the door then turned to leave again. His appearance too wiggled like a dancing flame in his vision.
"Hey." He called out.
Malik continued to leave. He wanted to stop him. Just say hello maybe.
He felt something in his hand.
"How did you-"
"Ah!"
He was holding Malik's arm. When did he move? How the fuck did he catch him.
The albino looked at the man before him, he was shaking in fear and disgust. He felt that same fear hit him from behind him in the eyes of his friends. He felt nauseous.
"I guess I'm a bit faster." He shrugged, nervously. He could feel himself sweating.
The room fell silent except for the sound of machinery.
"You…you are…" Malik sighed, ripping his hand away. He turned around, continuing on his way.
"I'm what?" He turned to the group of spectators, "What am I?"
Yugi ran over to him, "Hungry?"
He couldn't stop eating. Everything tasted great, especially since he hadn't eaten in days. He felt like he might puke at any given moment but that didn't stop him.
"Slow down fat boy." Kisara grunted, pulling a plate away.
He immediately stopped her hand. She flinched, "Slow down! Stupid ass."
"I don't know how. My reflexes are crazy."
"You're scaring everyone."
"…Am I?" He looked around. No one met his eyes or looked his way, "Why?"
She clicked her tongue, sliding a spoon his way, "Look at yourself. Quickly. Yugi doesn't want you to see."
He held it up to see.
They were right. His eyes were bright red, hair spiky and sticking up at the top. His teeth even looked sharper.
"Shark."
"Put it away." She coughed.
He went back to eating, using the spoon. Yugi sat next him, "How's the food?"
"Good."
"Great." He smiled.
"Can I go to my room?"
"Sure. I can show you."
He blinked, "I was staying with Malik."
"You don't anymore. Volkov wants you to have a nicer room. He also wants you to attend a party tonight."
"Why?" He asked.
"The benefactors are interested in you. Your game impressed them."
He scowled. He'd have to try and not kill them. They funded this shithole. They deserved it. Yea, they deserved death. He snickered. They deserved to feel the pain just like all the people they called to death. He'd just be doing karma a favor right?
"What's funny?"
He snapped out of his trance, "Nothing." Shit he needed to get a grip.
"You have awhile to go before you need to get ready. Do whatever you want." Yugi sipped his tea, "Just no trouble."
"Okay. See you in a bit." He stood up, "Wanna come Kisara?"
She looked at him, then shrugged, "Sure."
They walked out the cafeteria into the hallway.
He immediately spit it out, "What is going on? Why am I like this-"
"Shut up and follow me." She quickly strode down towards the entrance. He followed.
"Put a coat on." She kicked open the coat room door.
He looked at the rack.
"Any coat!"
She was starting to piss him off.
The girl waited for him to gear up before throwing him outside. She pushed and shoved him out the door.
"What the fuck is your problem?"
She roundhoused him in the chest. He was able to stand his ground but she really had PISSED HIM OFF.
He morphed his fingers into blades.
"Feeling confident?" Kisara scoffed, "Great just what I need. More wounds."
"You wanted to piss me off."
"Maybe I did…so what? Do something about it bitch."
He would and did. He punched her stomach, piercing her flesh yet not even earning a reaction. Her body might swell, bleed and bruise but there was no satisfaction without pain. Maybe if he tried harder he'd get something out of her. That would be fun.
She grabbed his wrist, pulling his blades from her body. She sighed, feeling annoyance more than anything. She flung him across the tundra.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He was going to keep flying. Weight. He needed weight.
He turned his foot into titanium, dragging it against the ice. Luckily he slowed down.
Kisara walked towards him, "Back down." She said.
"Why! This could be so much fun."
She put her hand on her stomach, flinging the blood onto the ground. He couldn't really think of what she was planning.
Her body dissolved into the droplets. She respawned before him from the blood on his hand. She pushed him to the ground.
"What a great fucking trick!" He cackled.
"Shut up!" He could see a gleam of something in her hand before he felt a sharp pain in his neck.
"What…was that?" The world came to a halt. His mind finish the race it was on.
"A test vile of a drug counteracting InSanity and MADNESS. They pumped you with far too much. At this rate you could kill someone."
"I didn't take anything! I was asleep!"
"You didn't have to. They injected it while you were asleep. Can't you feel it? The uncontrollable rage? The lack of control?"
He did.
"Where did you get it?"
She shrugged, "Your mother. It was meant for me but…seems like you needed it more." She rolled off him.
"What about you?"
"My body is so dependent on the drugs that any counteracting substance could kill me. I was willing to take the chance." She sighed, "Nevermind it."
Bakura felt the world finally slowed the hell down. The strange rush was calming itself and he regained his composure.
"Shit!" She exclaimed.
"What?"
She gripped her pants, "She probably only gave it to me for you. That bitch probably knew this might happen! It wasn't even for me!" She screamed, "Fuck! Why does she do this to me!"
"You're pregnant." Annabel stated, smoking her cigarette. Her thin fingers around the toxic stick.
"I'm…" The young girl looked at her stomach in shock.
"Yes, I'd take a guess it belongs to a guard. Congrats." She scoffed.
Kisara fell on her knees, "How!"
"Hm? Didn't you get sex education? The tiniest bit of semen can cause a big problem."
"I can't take care of a child. A mutant child at that."
Annabel sighed, "I didn't tell the HWC, they would have done experiments immediately. However we have to fix this quickly." She pulled her trusty pocket knife out her bra, "Go ahead."
"You want me to…" Why would she ever do that!
"You can't keep it. I can't get abortion equipment without suspicion." The woman tapped her cigarette ashes to the ground, "So please feel free."
Kisara stared at the knife then her stomach. A child of her own. Her only kin in the world. Her baby.
She…could be a mother. Nurture a child like her mother did not. She could love again.
"Kisara, I'm asking you to do this. That child will lead a horrible life. Surrounded by death at all times, experimentations, and every evil imaginable. Do this for me so I know that child is at peace."
"But"
"You defy me!"
"I defy what all of you think. I can do this! I'll raise it and protect it!"
Annabel let out an animalistic cry, "YOU CAN'T EVEN PROTECT YOURSELF, HOW DO YOU THINK THAT THING WAS MADE! THAT CHILD WILL BE A LIVING REMINDER THAT YOU'RE STILL WEAK KISARA!"
"I can't fight human nature! WHY DO YOU SAY IT LIKE I COULD HAVE PREVENTED IT."
The woman stopped, defeat lied in her eyes, "You… couldn't. But you will."
Annabel kneeled down before her, "Kisara~" She cooed.
The girl tried to cover her ears.
"Katerina~"
. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. . Nononono
"Please."
That sickening sweet voice…
"One thrust and it's over."
Stop it.
"I'll fix you up and we'll forget it all. Sweet, sweet child."
She panted, grasping her head.
Annabel was asking her this! Annabel. Her ray of sunshine through the tundra's blizzards. The only person to show her true love! She had to right? They'd forget all about this. And one day run away together! Just them! Sweet, sweet Annabel! Sweet, sweet Annabel!
Sweet, sweet Annabel!
Sweet, sweet Annabel!
Sweet, sweet Annabel!
"I will!" She cried out. She grabbed the knife, "I will for you Annabel!" She panted, heavily like the prey of a beast.
"Thank you."
Goodbye sweet, sweet child, sleep and wait for mommy in hell!
She thrust the knife in her womb, the blood poured everywhere. Her tears meant nothing. She did this for her…sweet, sweet Annabel.
Kisara felt a lump in her throat, "...They only give that amount of drugs to Malik and Yugi." She managed to get out, "They've been on them the longest so their bodies tolerate the effects somewhat better."
He was curious at her sudden moment of silence, yet it wasn't the time, "I should give those assholes an applause because I felt like I was going insane."
She scoffed, "You were." She ran a hand through her hair, "Can I ask something of you?"
"Sure."
"Don't trust us. Any weapons, scientists or civilian. Not even your own brother."
"Why?"
The anger built up inside her, "Everyone is an enemy until our job is done. Don't even trust me." She pleaded, "Please promise me."
"Why though!"
"There's so much I can't explain."
"I don't understand why I should do any of this then."
" You took my closest chance to freedom! You took my cure. Now take my advice like a thief in the night… you will die and kill those you love if you believe in anyone but yourself."
If he couldn't believe anyone why would he trust what she was saying. She didn't really have a motive for lying.
"I'll try."
"That's all I can ask for." She sighed, "You remind me of myself." She played with her hair.
He didn't see much of a resemblance.
"Stubborn. Arrogant. Lonely." She chuckled, "Angry. I…I say this from experience. Don't trust anyone."
"Do you trust anyone?"
The woman looked up to the sky, "I'm trying to not."
"What about your brother?"
"I shouldn't trust him."
"Why?"
"Samson, won't you stay wary of Delilah. Don't let time repeat itself."
"Excuse me?"
"Shut up already. You sound like the baby asking questions."
She stood up, extending her hand towards him. He grabbed it but as she lifted him she let go.
"What the fuck!" He fell into the ice cold snow once more.
"I say trust no one and you proceed to trust me." She scoffed, walking away, "You are the idiot."
He fumed. They had nothing alike!
"Here's your new room." Yugi stated. He was in another hall than the other weapons.
Why? Maybe they were trying to isolate him from the others.
"You've become quite liked by our donors! Your quarters are a bit more extravagant than ours but you've earned their favor."
"How?"
Yugi smiled. It was starting to become unnerving. "You are mysterious, powerful, and stoic. Makes people want to know more."
"About what exactly."
"What makes you tick. Maybe your whole existence…Bakura, do you like your room?"
"Sure." He avoided the question just as the small man avoided the topic.
The only reply he received was a brisk stride out the door.
"Follow me." He was walking quite fast. How annoying.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy the party. It's a nice change of pace."
"Will you go?"
"Yes but only as a supervisor. The competing teams usually go and converse."
He nodded.
"Bakura, you are a perfected weapon. From now onward you will be monitored as we have been. I hope it's not too stressful."
"I don't care one way or another."
"That's good. If you care about nothing, nothing can hurt you."
Yugi opened the doors to a room. The room was filed to threw brim with cloth and machines. Fabrics draped each part of the room.
"Have fun!" He left down the hall.
Was he expected to make his own-
"Get in here!"
He was surprised to see an imp in front of him.
"Bloody Mary?"
"No shit! C'mon we have no time!" She pulled him inside.
"Didn't I just see your host?"
She scoffed, pointing towards a long roll of fabric with a body draped over it like white lace.
Guess that answered that.
Duke pulled on a fabric with some girl. She had black hair tied into two buns. Her hazel eyes lacked signs of positivity. Her face was full and body slender. She wore a traditional yet casual Chinese dress.
"Silk." She said.
"No, cotton." Duke scowled.
She clenched her jaw, "Why!"
"Comfortable."
"It's too basic. The donors will never like it."
"The kid won't wear it if it feels weird."
"WHAT DO I CARE ABOUT THAT BRAT FOR!"
Bakura cleared his throat.
They looked at him, "Vivian, that's him."
She scoffed, "What does it matter? What rank is he?"
"Undecided."
"Hmph. He's useless then. Stand on the X."
He followed her instructions. Duke began measuring him, "I promise she's always this bitchy."
"Are there any nice girls here?"
He laughed, laughter turning to sobs. His answer would have sufficed with a no.
Mary kicked him, "Pervert, what's the theme?"
"Victorian."
She smiled, "Perfect!" She started sketching.
"What do you do?" Vivian asked him.
"Excuse me?"
"Your specialty-"
"I can turn my body into metals. I can move them but I'm not so good at that."
"Hn. The Japanese Branch sure has a lot of freaks."
"Fuck off Wong."
"I mean it Duke. There's you. A doll freak who can control people with your smell. You're pretty lazy too. An amazing power like that used to woo women. What a waste."
He sighed, "The pheromones last for a bit there's not much room for control unless they are still. They must have my scent for me to control them."
She rolled her eyes, "I don't care! Then there's her. Half-pint, lolita with a ugly sense of beauty."
The girl hissed.
"And her albino counterpart. A cold, vulgar bitch. Only thing worst than their attitudes is their Japanese. Then we have Joey. Good guy. Weakling towards women."
Bakura felt tired just listening to her whining, "Uh could you shut up-"
"Next Yugi, fucking creep. He keeps analyzing people like they don't notice. I don't think he sees us as people anymore. We're variables. Then Yami just eats it up. It's like he's under a spell. I'm not sure who he loves more: Himself or Yugi."
Duke finished his measuring, handing it to Mary.
"Then fucking Akefia, his lungs are his strong point. He's so loud, thunder trembles when he yells. What a temper on that one! I don't see how he can be friends with that whore either. Malik takes so much meat you'd think he was a butcher. I swear his face is his only redeeming factor. Pfft, it's not his power that's regarded highly: it's the falsetto."
Bakura opened his mouth to lash out at her-
"Could you shut up?" Mary said, "You sure do have a lot to say for someone with such a low rank."
She blushed in embarrassment.
"Anyway, Bakura sit down, we'll start now."
He took a seat by the window.
"Your vanity will be your downfall Vivian." Duke advised, pulling out the fabric he desired with a gruff of triumph.
"Hmph, a downfall can only happen to those with something to lose. I don't. Plus I think I'm powerful enough to stop anything that gets in my way."
"Really, what great powers do you hold?" The tone of the small girl's voice was sarcastic to say the least.
"For one." She poked the fabric, changing the blue into red.
"No red! Too red!" Mary screamed.
Vivian fumed, "You're one to talk!"
"Aren't we soaked in blood enough! No red for him!"
"What do you mean soaked in blood?" Bakura asked, "Have you killed?"
She looked at him, observing his face. She supposed she felt something for him. He, like herself, was a blade. He treated her respectfully enough.
"Its time I suppose." She sighed, it was more subconscious than intentional, "Yes we have. We killed many people. That's why we were made."
"To kill?"
"What else does a weapon do?"
"I thought you were perfected humans."
She scoffed, "No. That was the original goal: Human Wellness Creation. A superhuman who's blood could then be used to cure disease and regenerate limbs. Technically they solved that already. Saving lives don't profit. Taking them do. These superhuman who lack human limitations could replace armies and nuclear arms. All they had to do was enhance their human capabilities."
He stared at her, hanging onto every word.
"So they proceeded to mutate the subjects further in categories. Categories determined by demand in order to supply. Information gatherers: those who can basically be human calculators, analyzing data like that of a computer. Like Yugi, Joey and Yami. Heavy hitters: those who live to destroy efficiently. Like my host, Kisara and Mana the Cassowary. Stealth: Those good at going in and out quickly with no detection. Like Akefia and Anzu. Entertainment: those who bring artificial joy, primarily decoys. Like Vivian, Noah, and Mai the Peacock. Manipulators: those who can change the perception of others around them or how they are perceived. Like Duke and Malik."
She continued, "See. This is our reason. We all have a job. The games are just a way for our donors to see our capabilities are still sharp. The competing teams do big jobs like stomping out revolutions, etc."
Bakura stopped her, "What's the etcetera?"
Mary glared at the floor, "Genocide. Assassinations. Hostage torturing."
He clenched his fists, "…Okay."
"That's the full story."
Duke whacked her in the head, "The forbidden one. We're supposed to give vague answers."
She smirked, "No chips." She whispered as she pointed to her neck.
"Mary, what about blades?"
"They are usually varied to the host. I'm technically stealth but my attire prevents that. So I'm in entertainment occasionally. Jun, Yugi's blade, is still info but also a manipulator. One of Malik's is entertainment, the other is stealth."
Bakura blinked, "Two?"
She looked at him, "It's a double sided reaper. Two blades. Runiharu and Kek."
"Runiharu is sleepy, long black hair guy right?"
"My darling! Yes." She smiled.
"Who is Kek?"
Her smile fell, "We don't talk about him much…"
"He's another blade, another person whom Malik was supposed to be but isn't. An asshole. I'm not sure how he's even a blade. We just count him to save time. It's like talking to a child honestly. I couldn't ask him where he came from without having to completely degrade myself." She spoke with a false superiority.
"A child?"
"I don't know. He never keeps form long enough." She sighed, "Let me finish your costume."
Duke threw out a roll of lace, "You can go if you like? There's not much for you to do and you probably want to rest."
Vivian smirked, "Yup. Get out."
He growled, making her flinch a bit yet remain smug.
"I'm leaving."
Bakura stood up. After a stretch or two, he lazily walked out the door.
He actually could go for a nap. It sounded really perfect.
Ryou sat on his bed. Him being there was technically against the rules but no one dared challenge Mariku.
Whom was promptly painting with his feet. Why? Inspiration.
He was always searching for inspiration but could never quite find it. Ryou quickly realized this meant death for an artist. Mariku sat up for hours painting then suddenly he would punch through the canvas. 'Not even a punch can fix this mess,' He'd start anew and do the same thing.
He could never find his muse-
"Little baby at my chest
Hush your crying go to rest
You're not alone, for I am here
You no longer have to cry in fear."
Ryou looked over at him. That song was familiar, "Mariku?"
"Hm?"
"Where'd you learn that?"
"Someone I used to know."
Ryou had heard those lyrics before. He looked through his phone gallery.
Not his mum or Bakura. Not his friends or teachers… his eyes landed on a picture striking another topic.
"One last thing."
He was already prepared to press his paint covered foot on the canvas. His grunt signified for him to hurry up.
"Do you know him?"
He handed him his phone.
"The one in a middle. His name was Malik. I figured you were so alike that you might be family."
Mariku stared at the picture with a blank look on his face. The same blank look Ryou met him with. The blank look he was probably born with.
He stood up, "I need this."
"Huh?"
"Print." He booped a few buttons and the copy machine came to life.
Ryou had to dodge his own phone as Mariku threw it at him to charge for the copy. A damn barbarian.
"Baba!" He quickly carved with an art scalpel the shape of only Malik out. "Walidy!"
"What?"
"I'm…I'm,"
"WHAT DAMMIT!"
"…I'm inspired."
...
Ryou almost had a heart attack. Him… inspired?! It's been years! He'd lost his will to do anything considered artistic long ago. He would only paint for a grade but those were amazing. Imagine what inspiration would do.
"Baba~" He sung.
Whatever, for him to be so happy was good. At least he was happy… and not killing his roommate. He was entirely too shitty to his roommate.
"Ryou, what has occurred in this room must stay here!"
"Who am I going to tell?"
"Commence the ultimate act of trust." He held out his pinky.
"Are you serious!"
"This is a extremely solemn ritual handed down for centuries. First seen by the Egyptians as a sign of respect. Aristotle then brought the tradition back to Greece. Another white man stealing our culture!" Lavender eyes looked at him expectantly.
Ryou sighed, "I'm sorry for my ancestors."
"As you should be. Anyway Aristotle taught it to Alexander the Great! Alex then sent it across the Mediterranean sea with his white need to colonize, obviously it hit the silk road. Making its way to China, the pink swear became not a symbol of respect yet of power! Leaders who failed in battle would pinky swear their allegiance to the new ruler. It was a power transition, not the original symbol of loyalty, for centuries onward." Mariku smirked, "Until Rome fell and Buddha was enlightened. The Buddha brought back the positivity and joy found in the pinky swear."
Really. All this over-
"SO commence the ultimate form of loyalty."
"Wouldn't that mean marriage?"
"No, marriage is more of finical security."
What.
"Just swear!"
"Fine!"
Their pinkies linked with a curt shake.
"DO YOU FEEL IT!" Mariku yelled.
"No."
"THE ENERGY COURSING THROUGH OUR VEINS! THE POWER OF THE GODS FORMING THROUGH OUR BOND."
"I don't feel it."
"THIS IS AMAZING!"
"It's a bland experience."
"WOO!"
"Boo."
Bakura threw on his costume. He went to put in the contacts Yugi left him. Natural brown lenses to mask his red eyes. Dammit he was shitty with contacts. He'd try to bloop em in and they'd just get fucked.
After 10 minutes of struggle, both were in. He was going to scream.
"Hey! How's it fit!" Duke yelled in the room.
"Good!" He yelled back from the bathroom.
"Great! Go get your makeup done!"
"WHY!"
"LIGHTS AND CAMERAS! LOOK NICE!"
"Ugh."
"Malik will do it for you. See ya!"
"But-" He was still avoiding him.
For no reason he might as well add! How shitty. Too shitty.
Maybe he could snatch the stuff and google what it does. He high-fived himself.
"Great plan me."
He walked out in his slippers. The shoes they brought looked uncomfortable. For that same reason he was going to wear moccasins. They were great.
"Hey, put something on your feet."
Malik scoffed, "Why?"
"It just snowed, you'll catch a cold from the wood floors."
"I can't."
"Just do."
… "Doesn't matter, I'm getting in the bed anyway." He crawled in the bed.
Bakura glanced at him a few times. He looked tired.
"What ugly eyes you have, baby!" Malik laughed, catching his gaze.
"Shut up."
He moved closer, "What are you working on?"
"Literature project." Bakura said while typing, "Now I just have to proofread." He sat his hand down next to himself.
"Oh." Malik said. He was quite bored. Bakura was so lame. What kid does homework?
A brilliant idea came to his head. He slowly held his hand, lacing together their fingers.
"What?" He said it coldly but the color on his cheeks was coming through.
"I'm bored." He cooed, "Play with me."
"No."
He leaned in next to his ear, licking his helix,"Should I play with myself then?"
That got him. He shut his laptop, angrily.
"What do you want?"
"Humor me."
He stood up, grabbing a deck of cards that he rued from his mother's death. Bakura through the cards on the bed maybe Malik will give him some peace now. Or further annoy him.
"Not the type of game I meant."
"I know."
The Egyptian chuckled.
He looked at the cards he hated so much. His shitty mother was a fan meaning he had to hate them.
"Hey, I have cards."
"What's the difference."
"Come see."
Bakura shrugged. Malik rolled onto his side to dig inside his bag. The albino crawled back into the bed.
"Here we go~" He handed said cards to Bakura, "Tadaa!"
"Ta-tarot?" He never learned that English word.
"Tarot." Malik said perfectly, "Fortune telling cards!"
"No." He opened up his laptop.
"Bakura!"
He hated supernatural shit. Yet he was surrounded by it, fucking great.
"Please!"
"No."
Malik wiggled closer, "Bakura. Bakura…" Desperate times, desperate measures.
Kissing his jawline, his fingers snaked their way to his thigh, "Please~"
"Malik."
Man, this kid wasn't hard to seduce. Maybe he was normal-
Bakura grabbed his throat, choking him, "STOP FUCKING AROUND."
NEVERMIND HE WAS A BALL OF ANGER!
"Ease up!" He coughed out.
"NOT A CHANCE IN HELL YOU BITCH!"
"Fuck~" He moaned loudly.
Fucking asshole. He should be mad at all the sexual harassment he went through.
"Malik?" He knocked but no answer.
Fuck it, this was his room too. He entered the room casually, shutting the door behind him.
It looked as if he walked into a Victoria Secret Fashion show. Lingerie covered the bed, scattered like in haste. Frills and lace adorned every piece of furniture. It only made Bakura…mad.
These were probably forced on Malik and he grew to accept them. Maybe he's required to wear it at parties like a sex icon or something.
Every scenario he thought was purely negative yet so was his situation. Mirroring his environment.
"Malik!" He called. He had to push away the thoughts before he became too furious.
He heard something drop from the bathroom then the clacking of heels.
"Bakura?" He walked out with a white robe on.
"Uh…Duke told me to ask you for makeup."
He simply stared at him, blankly. Bakura met his eyes in slight confusion and annoyance.
"They're brown again…" He quickly strode over to him, "Thank goodness." A gentle sigh of relief escaped him.
"Why does it matter?" If his eyes were still red what would he have done?
"Let me go get the makeup. Take a seat."
Was the man deaf or delusional?
He threw the random clothes out his way to sit on the bed.
"Here we go."
Bakura glanced at him bringing out a little case.
Malik did his eyeliner in the mirror.
"You don't need it."
"Hm?"
"The makeup."
Lavender eyes met his own, "I know. I like it. It leaves little presents."
"Does it?"
"Of course." Taking a golden tube with a peek of red, he puckered covering his lips in said bloody color. He walked over to him reading in the windowsill, "Let me demonstrate."
Bakura felt his warm lips on his cheek. Malik held the mirror to his face, "See. A little present."
The red lip print adorned his cheek, perfectly shaped to the movie clichés. Honestly, those marks were messy and oblong. Not every person who wore makeup was an artist. Odd shapes from the overdrawn, cracked, patchy, lips from around the world was the unvarnished truth.
"Hn." Was all he replied.
" I put too much on, let me just…donate some."
"Donate?"
Malik kissed his cheeks again and again, leaving a mark each time. Bakura's book hit the floor with a thud.
They kissed for a few moments, enjoying the warmth of another. It felt…enthralling.
[LINE HERE]
"Bakura."
He snapped out the memory, "Yea?"
"I need to pull your hair back." Malik said, grabbing the brush.
Calming, quiet. Gentle yet firm. Purposefully with poise.
"Can I ask you some things?" Bakura said, breaking the silence.
"About the party?"
"No."
The blonde smiled, "Expect the answers to hold room for confusion."
"That's fine." He said. That's how most things went.
Malik clipped his hair back, "Then with pleasure I'll answer them."
"Why do you let these things happen to you?"
"What things?"
"The torture, the abuse, the pain."
He grabbed the case filled with little tubes and bottles, "No one can avoid pain. It comes with the territory of being alive. Pain makes people strong…godly even. Maybe I'm searching for divinity." Warm, brown hands rubbed the lotion into his pale skin.
Bakura scoffed, narrowing his eyes, "There's no better way?"
"Be born with power and privilege."
...
"How," Shit he was never going to get an answer to another question about the topic. "How long have you been with the HWC?"
"Since birth."
He was taken aback.
"Walidy, I mean Papa… was a scientist for them."
"Like my mum." He whispered in awe.
"Exactly but he tried most experiments on me like a rat. I'd rather me than a rat, I like animals." Packing on crème foundation.
"My mother kept rats in the house. Her pets. I set them free after she was arrested. I didn't like them. She kept better care of them than she ever did me."
"Parenting at its best."
"She was strange."
"Aren't all parents odd? Papa, once said that I was the most beautiful bird. He said I was meant to be caged."
"No bird is meant to be caged."
"We'd like to think yet here we are…" He sighed, "Caged up to be protected from the muck of the world."
Bakura decided to let him keep going into his trance.
"But…that glass entrapment became cracked. The grime and filth of the world dripped in. Drip Drop into the glass, onto poor birdy." He stopped his blending.
"What did birdy do?"
The lavender, lifeless eyes stared into a void in the distance.
"Birdy cried. Everything around him submersed in black muck, most people would cry in that event. Birdy flapped so hard yet went no where. His feet were stuck in that muddy, black sea, being pulled like quicksand." He sighed, "So pretty birdy decides…he will die. Drowned in filth…it's ok. Birdy is going to die soon, his suffering will end. One of these days, he can only hope. "
Bakura felt an opening in his soul. It was like Kisara but fainter. At this point usually he could see the soul opening but it didn't show itself.
"Hehe birds…what idiocy. No use in continuing that."
They sat in silence for a few moments.
"Do you want to escape?" Bakura asked.
"I used to think so but…A roof repair would be fine. Even a piece of duck tape is okay."
"Hn."
"Can you change to a different topic outside the realm of suffering?"
Something else...
"… don't heels hurt?" Bakura blurted out. Couldn't he think of anything better! What the shoes were shiny and caught his attention! Fuck off!
Malik laughed, "I thought I said outside the realm of suffering. No my feet feel fine. They are a bit deformed though from extended wear."
He doubted they were that bad, "Shouldn't they be okay? You can regenerate."
"To a certain point. It's only to when I received the treatment, not before then." He put more stuff on that Bakura had no clue was, "I received the treatment at…sixteen or seventeen. My body hasn't changed since."
"Like it? That your body can't change?"
"I guess so. A bit young, I might have grown a little more if they waited."
"Yea." New topic, "As a kid, what did you want to be?"
"Why, do my childish musings matter?"
"I just want to know."
"I wanted to…" He narrowed his eyes, "Be…a…"
"A?"
"A…" He blushed, "Shinto priest."
Bakura floundered a bit, "What?"
He huffed, "I've always been spiritual."
"But you believe in Egyptian gods."
"All gods exist! Shinto doesn't cover death so I just adopted ancient Egyptian beliefs to cover that."
Laughter escaped his lips.
He still looked embarrassed, "I wouldn't mind that lifestyle. What did you!"
Bakura blinked. Huh. Nothing came to mind. When he was young he wanted to be… like his mum. A scientist but he couldn't say that.
"A superhero."
"Hm? Can't imagine you saving anything."
"More likely than you think." He shrugged.
"I'm sure." Malik scoffed.
"What is all the jobs you do at the HWC?" Bakura asked.
"This and that. Not important."
Don't avoid the topic, "All these years must have been hard. Like you said caged and mistreated it surely was devastating."
"Hn. I don't think so." He mumbled, putting something dusty on Bakura's right eyelid.
"I do. No human being deserves what you've been through."
"Good thing I'm not a human."
This was becoming a complex maze, or rather yet a funhouse. Those creepy mazes with weird mirrors and dark lighting, it's hard to navigate let alone get out.
"You were and no kid should have to endure your torture."
"Why?"
"Because it's despicable."
"To some. Morality is all an opinion. What I went through was…bad to an extent but I'm alive. It was not impossible to go through." His voice lowered to a whisper, "I wouldn't wish it on another but they would survive like I did."
"What makes you think that?"
"Any human could."
"I couldn't." He sighed, "Value your strength a bit."
He smiled, "Be a dictator. You are good at wooing the weak." He looked towards the floor, "Can I ask you for a favor?"
"Sure." He immediately regretting answering so fast.
He strode towards his dresser, fiddling with his trinkets. A smooth metal sound hit Bakura's ears. Returning, "This. I need you to keep this."
Bakura watched as Malik slid the object into his palms.
A bullet?
"It's made of a special blend of metals. Annabel was the first to make it."
"Why am I keeping this?"
"You'll see idiot. Would I give you something so useless with such a serious face!"
He scowled, "Fuck off, you always wear a mega bitch face."
"And it's fucking gorgeous."
"Why are you giving this to me!" His voice clear with suspicion, "Give it to Kisara!"
"No." He said, calmly.
"Why!"
He sat down next to him, the bed bouncing with him. He brought a cigarette from the case on the bed to his lips, "Won't you be a dear?"
"Fine grandma."
"Too bad I'm not her. I would have dropped your mother a little less on her head."
With that sharp jab at the woman he hated the most, he happily lit his cigarette.
"Bakura, I'm going to tell you one of my few truths." Smoke arose from pouty lips. Receiving a nod of compliance was all he needed, "I…well…I trust you."
Immediate shock overtook him.
"I do."
"You've come to such a conclusion how."
"My oxytocin levels. When I heard you call for me, I was taking my blood to regulate of intakes. When I heard your voice it hit an unusual spike. My oxytocin levels are irregularly high in the first place this was a significant change."
Bakura was a bit confused. He made a mental note to ask Yugi for books on hormones.
"I can't trust anyone else here." He said low almost as a whisper, "Everyone has there alternative motives… expect you."
"I don't really think I have a defined motive."
"My point exactly. So… could you? All you have to do is keep it and whenever you feel is right use it, please do."
Suspicions ran through his head, refusing to be spoke. An air of thick volume came in his lungs. This small thing couldn't be that important. This was…a test. Yes, a test to see if Malik could trust him. Failing the test would make things boring. Malik was always busy, maybe furthering their relationship could open opportunities to see new things.
"Will you?"
"Yea."
"Do you trust me?"
Bakura glanced at him, "To an extent."
"Then…?" He leaned in close.
"Then what?" He backed away from him.
He smirked, "We're allies. Nice to know, partner."
His sly smile could possibly be categorized as sincere if stared at long enough.
"Yea, partner." They sounded like business associates more than anything else despite the random making out. That sounded fine to Bakura though.
"Feels… good." His voice was gentle and for a slight moment his humanity shone through the layers of filth and olden sins, "I have to be ready soon so…"
"Yea."
He walked towards the door.
"Thank you."
Wide brown eyes turned towards him in awe and alarm. Momentary paralysis overtook him.
"I appreciate it."
"Yea." He answered lamely once more, embarrassed. Rushing out the wooden door hellbent on escaping the disgusting warm feeling on his cheeks.
Fuck. Emotions.
I don't believe in trust. What is there to believe in? Trust is purely chemical based. Dopamine increases around people with desirable traits for procreation. It's not fate, it's survival. Our nature is animalistic. We settle for those who were feel as though we can stay with and produce the next generation. It's not trust or love. It's our nature as animals. "Trust" doesn't exist it's an illusion. A pheromone imbalance at the right time. Then we're hooked. Heh. Even the best and brightest, like myself, gets hooked…