The next morning, Marik once again dragged himself in to work. After the past day or so of stomach-churning events regarding the Ring, he didn't think he could take any more news. But there waited Ishizu at the front counter, ready to unleash something new.
"Good morning, Marik," she started. "I wanted to tell you something. Ryou has changed his mind and decided to help us find the Ring after all."
Marik breathed in deeply, steeling himself. At least he knew this much would happen, so this wasn't news at all.
"That means I will no longer be asked to help find the Ring."
Ishizu nodded. "That's right. The officials decided to proceed with the old plan. Ryou will be flying in this Friday to help us search."
Marik acknowledged the news with a curt nod, and walked toward the front counter to clock himself in.
"Marik, I hope you're not-" Ishizu started, looking uncertain. "I hope you're not disappointed. I know that you really wanted the officials to notice you, and give you a chance. I hope this doesn't seem like a letdown."
Glancing at her, Marik gave a small smile. "Don't worry, Sister. I know they meant well if they even considered giving me the job. I'm not disappointed."
"Great," Ishizu said, seeming to breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm glad you understand."
Marik proceeded to work, letting his mind drift, trying as hard as he could to ignore the fact that Ryou would be in Egypt in two days, and they still had no plan at all.
The next two days passed uneventfully. Marik buried himself in mind-numbing work, and when he came home, he watched TV for hours, until he finally fell into fitful sleep. Bakura watched Marik's restlessness from afar. They played a card game on Thursday night, but they didn't bet, and Marik was so wound up that he nearly flipped the table over whenever he lost points.
Finally, Friday arrived, and after working all day, Marik was about to clock out of the gift shop when he heard voices coming from a nearby room.
And he couldn't be mistaken. One of the voices was Ryou's.
Marik carefully opened the door to the nearby conference room, and the sight of Ryou, after all these years, stopped him short.
The resemblance was so uncanny. Here was Ryou, white-haired, pale, and brown-eyed, staring at him in surprise, when a nearly exact replica of him was currently living at Marik's apartment.
"Marik!" Ryou said, his eyes immediately brightening and his demeanor changing entirely. He stepped toward Marik and quickly embraced him before Marik could utter a single word.
"Ryou, it's great to see you," Marik said, genuinely glad to see the boy. He'd grown since they'd last seen each other. He was still lanky as ever, but it was clear that Ryou had aged and grown taller since the Battle City tournament.
Their greeting didn't last long as several museum officials stepped toward the two, Ishizu close behind them, and Marik realized they must have been discussing the Ring.
"Marik," Ishizu started. "We were just telling Ryou that he can take the next few days to settle in, as we will be starting the search whenever he feels ready."
"I see," Marik said. "Where will he be staying until then?"
"Actually, we didn't-" Ishizu started, as the thought occurred to her.
"He can stay with me," Marik interjected, thinking it would be best to have Ryou at his place so they could work on their plan. But he said, "We haven't seen each other in so long, and I think this would be the perfect way to catch up."
"Great," Ishizu replied, giving them both a smile.
After exchanging more pleasantries, Marik said a gracious goodbye to the officials and his sister, and he and Ryou left the gift shop.
As they walked toward the motorcycle Marik had parked outside, he felt Ryou's eyes on him. It was so strange to be near Ryou again, when he looked so much like Bakura. It was strange to be given such a curious, innocent look, when all Marik was used to were glares and smirks. Marik finally glanced at Ryou, his eyebrows rising up in question.
Ryou hesitated for a moment. And then he quietly said, "You've changed."
"How so?" Marik looked puzzled.
Ryou shook his head. "I'm not sure, but...back there, with the officials, I noticed it. It's almost like you're hiding yourself. Even better than you hid yourself before."
Marik gave him a perplexed look, trying to understand where Ryou was coming from, and why he even brought that up.
"Is that a bad thing?" Marik finally asked.
Ryou shrugged. "I think that's something you'll have to decide for yourself."
The motorcycle ride to the apartment was silent, other than the wind blowing across Marik's face, and the tumultuous thoughts that plagued him.
Once back at the apartment, it occurred to Marik that Ryou and Bakura hadn't seen each other in three years, and he was curious to watch their reunion, to watch Bakura's reaction after all this time.
"Ryou," was all Bakura said when he saw the two walk through the door. He folded his arms and regarded them with a bored look. "Now that you're here, let's get started."
Marik snorted. Leave it to Bakura to treat his old host as if no time at all had passed. Perhaps that's how it was for Bakura, since he'd been in the Ring for too long to even notice the passing of time.
"It's good to see you, Bakura," Ryou piped up, following the two into the kitchen. He glanced around the small space, taking in the threadbare rug and meager furnishings. "This is a really nice apartment, Marik."
"Thanks," Marik replied. "Take a seat, and I guess we can start."
He felt it rude to ask Ryou to spill the plan to them the moment he flew into Egypt, the minute he walked into his apartment, but the sooner they had a concrete plan, the better Marik would feel.
"What's your plan?" Bakura turned to Ryou.
"Well," Ryou started, looking uncomfortable to be put on the spot. "I think we all agreed that using Bakura's Ring and giving it to the officials is out of the question—"
"Completely out of the question," Bakura interjected. "I'm not handing over the Ring."
"Right," Ryou said. "My next idea was to create a fake Ring."
He looked around the table, watching for their reactions as the idea sank in.
Bakura immediately looked sickened at the thought, but Marik looked like he was considering it.
"That could work-" Marik started.
"That is not going to work," Bakura immediately said. His brown eyes were dark and fierce. "How are we supposed to create a fake Ring? It'll be obvious to any one of those dumbass officials that it's not real. And the moment they realize that-"
"Well, hang on. How are they going to figure out that it's fake?" Marik interrupted, rounding on Bakura. "If we do some decent spell-work, I don't see how they would even suspect anything."
"Spell-work?" Bakura looked incredulous. "What kind of magic do you intend to use? You're forgetting that our items don't have much power anymore. We don't have any spell-work."
Marik smirked. "Maybe the items don't, but I still do."
At that, both Ryou and Bakura glanced at him sharply.
"What kind of magic?" Ryou asked.
"Glamours. I can make any piece of gold into any particular shape, and since we have the Ring, I can copy it."
"Where did you learn that?" Bakura asked dubiously, as he folded his arms again.
"Before the Battle City tournament. I tried a lot of spells to make copies of the Winged Dragon of Ra card, and finally made one that looked like the real thing. Plus, I made a fake Rod for Rishid when he posed as me during the tournament."
Ryou beamed at Marik, looking impressed. "Perfect. We can make this work." He looked around at Bakura, as if expecting his support.
"Maybe," Bakura said, still unconvinced. "But what if they see through it?"
"Trust me, they won't." Marik stared across the table at Bakura, imploring him to believe in this plan, since this was really their best shot. Bakura gave him a piercing look. A look that said, This is all on you, then.
"Alright, since we all agree, I think we should get started as soon as we can," Ryou said.
"I can prepare for the spell," Marik said.
"I can steal the gold," Bakura said.
When Ryou stared at him in surprise, Bakura snapped, "What? Don't tell me you have some sort of ethical issues with me stealing, because this was your idea."
Ryou kept his mouth shut.
They agreed that first, Bakura should steal the gold after it grew dark, and tomorrow they would perform the actual spell. In the meantime, Marik realized that he was starving, and started cooking dinner while the other two sat at the table, and Ryou talked. He talked about his college classes, new friends, and his experiences the past few years. Marik listened, cooking and interjecting sometimes, while Bakura looked lost in thought.
Marik had to admit he was also nervous about the plan. They were all nervous, as evidenced by the fact that Bakura didn't want to talk at all, and all Ryou could do was talk. It was as if they were each waiting, filling up the time in their own way.
Finally, it was nightfall, and Bakura left to steal the solid gold. Ryou said that he was tired and wanted to retire to bed since he hadn't slept at all on the plane.
"You can take my bed," Marik said. "Bakura can sleep on the couch, and I'll take the floor."
"Oh," Ryou said, looking startled. "Are you sure you don't want the bed? I don't want to disrupt whatever arrangement you and Bakura have."
Marik frowned. "You're a guest, Ryou. And Bakura always sleeps on the couch anyway."
Ryou looked surprised by that again, but dutifully took the new sheets and pillowcases Marik offered him and retired to bed.
After that, Marik turned out the lights and sat by the windowsill to wait for Bakura to return. He hoped this would work. Fervently, he willed the fabric of this plan to fold together, because there was no other plan where this was concerned. They were all fucked if this didn't work. And he couldn't bear the thought of being cast out of the museum, the society, the world that he presently knew.
When Bakura finally walked through the door, it was past midnight and Marik had been dozing beside the window pane. Through the dim moonlight, Marik eyed Bakura as he approached, and his gaze caught on the chunk of pure gold in Bakura's hands. Marik smiled at him as he reached for the gold and touched the glinting metal. His fingers brushed against Bakura's by accident, and he felt his heart race suddenly. Because of the gold, because of the plan, because it was the middle of the night and he was shaking with anticipation? Marik didn't know.
Bakura sat on the windowsill beside him, leaving the gold between them. The darkness seemed to make this whole plan so daring, so daunting. It reminded Marik of his Battle City days, when he plotted against Yugi with Bakura's help. There was something so fulfilling and forbidding about those days, and suddenly, he felt that power again.
"Worried?" Bakura asked, watching Marik carefully.
"No," Marik said.
Bakura raised an eyebrow. "You lie to everyone else. No need to lie to me."
Marik didn't reply. Instead he pressed his fingers against the solid gold, and tried picturing the spell in his mind.
"This will work," he said, envisioning the ancient spell, the words on his tongue.
Bakura was silent for a moment, staring at Marik, trying to see what he saw. Imagine what he imagined. But Marik was a closed book, and no amount of staring would reveal that to him.
"We should get to bed if we're doing the spell tomorrow," Bakura said.
Marik nodded, distracted. "I let Ryou have the bed, so you're on the couch tonight. I'll take the floor."
Bakura scowled a little, but then said, "Fair enough."
After setting the solid gold aside, they both prepared for bed and fell into a fitful sleep.
In the morning, Marik hardly bothered with breakfast. He slapped some food on all of their plates, ate quickly, and cleaned up before either Bakura or Ryou seemed fully awake. He was anxious to do the spell and get it over with, and before long, he had set the gold on the kitchen floor and sat down to get started.
"Bakura, we'll need your Ring to be here with the solid gold," Marik instructed. "And I'll need to draw some blood from you."
"Blood?" Ryou looked slightly faint at the thought. "Why?"
"Because we need the connection from the items' past. They were forged out of blood, and we need to mimic that when we do the spell."
Bakura looked like he had no problem with that. All three of them sat on the kitchen tiles, while Marik ran through the words in his head again, testing them on his tongue. He ran his fingers against the pure gold again, getting a feel for its surface, imagining how it could be shaped into the Ring.
"Give me your hand," Marik told Bakura.
Grabbing Bakura's hand, he pressed a small, sharp knife against the skin of Bakura's index finger, drawing a small drop of blood. Marik glanced at him, watching for his reaction. Bakura said nothing as Marik guided his hand toward the solid gold, and pressed his blood into the metal. At the cool touch, Bakura flinched, and Marik briefly saw the ghost of a memory. The moment Bakura witnessed the blood of his people shaped and cast into the form of the seven items.
Momentarily, the memory blinded them both, but then it was gone, and Marik began reciting the spell. His words wound around the metal, and he imagined the metal's new, distorted form. He saw in his mind's eye the shape of the Ring, and the words burned his mouth as they escaped. He no longer saw the gold, but only the string of ancient hieroglyphs, the words he had learned so long ago, as they scoured his mouth and smoldered through his teeth.
He was concentrating so hard on the spell that he was surprised when he suddenly heard Ryou gasp, and Marik blinked and finally looked at the solid gold again.
And what he saw before him was nothing short of incredible.
In front of him lay a near-perfect copy of the Ring.
AN: Thanks for reading! Sorry for the long wait. Please review and let us know what you think- we appreciate everyone who is still sticking with this fic!