DH AN: Okay, I have another Prompted Oneshot with the prompt This conversation never happened. You can thank my perusal of Episodes 82-85 inclusive for this beautiful little spoiler of a Oneshot...but, bear in mind that I'll have to get through quite a bit of Book II before I even reach this point... I don't even know whether I will go with this idea in the long run, but the plot bunny will not leave me alone... so...enjoy Confirmation and Confrontation. Big Thank you to Rugrat 247 who helped a bunch.

#36: "Shattered" Marik Mhera

Confirmation and Confrontation

Her head was spinning, unknown memories slamming into the futile resistance of a now broken barrier, a wall of glass that shattered under the tremendous barrage of several unrelated details that brought this epiphany. Trying to shut the pain away; the only things that she was now able to decipher were varying murmurs of concern, and one sentence from a familiar voice. "Don't worry; I'll make certain she is well taken care of." The tone suggested that the owner was not concerned at all.

She heard nothing more. The pressure was simply too much to handle.

His mind was juggling a whirlwind of ideas. How could the effects of his Millennium Rod, and subsequently the most vital portion of his genius scheme of protecting his identity from being revealed, have possibly failed? But the more pressing question was what exactly led to the manipulation's breaking point, releasing the memories it suppressed.

No matter which angle he contemplated, he found only two scenarios that were plausible, three if these two scenarios if put together counted as a separate one: Slifer's summoning had triggered a suppressed memory within her mind—perhaps she was able to link the beast to him, subsequently shattering the safety provided by his pseudonym, "Namu"—and thus nullifying the barrier responsible for her amnesia.

He shrugged as he sought the second scenario's involvement; for when Odion revealed that he himself was Marik and "used" the replica of the very item that had implemented the amnesia in the girl, erasing any and all doubt that he was anyone but. In this action, it had done just the opposite; confirming the doubts of one... Nonchalantly twirling a finger amid the cluster of ice cubes in his beverage, he waited, glancing over to a facedown card on the table.

All she could interpret were blurred images, each smudged like a smear upon a sheet of glass; not nearly as clear as they should be. She knew enough to be certain these images were important and well-treasured, and relief swept over her as the haze of fog began to clear slightly, drifting aside to reveal a series of familiar situations. Of familiar conversations and people... one person in particular highlighted among the rest. Relief was overtaken by horror mixed with disbelief as further realization struck. Bits and snatches of different memories- memories that were no doubt hers- assailed her; these anything but comforting, as fingers of dread grabbed at her already weakened mental state. An anchor… A ring… A single card that had yet to be played...the series of images somehow made sense and yet did not seem to have any bearing on the current situation.

She slowly sat up with a low moan, mind still a tad fuzzy on certain details. How did she get here? When did she get here? Who brought her here? But more importantly, where was here? She was clearly in a finalist's room…but whose? The last recent occurrences she remembered were Yugi playing his Egyptian God Card…Slifer?...and then…Marik showed up…hadn't Yugi won that card after a duel with him? Nothing made sense after that…she had never associated Marik with that card…she remembered Namu in possession of Slifer at some point…but why would Namu have that card if it was Marik who wanted it? Unless Namu was Marik, but that made no sense either.

But that raised another question, why was Namu so clear in her memories when she had only known him since the Finals had started? Why would someone who she had just met be so prevalent in her recovered long-term memories? His presence in them made no sense, "Unless it is merely an alias." She unknowingly murmured aloud. She cringed as further memories struck among the distinct clang of a glass.

"I see you are awake," a calmly cool and raspy voice soon followed the previous discord provided by the clanging glass. She stood stiffly as slow, calculated steps drew her auditory attention to…Namu, only she was certain that he was actually Marik… as her memories further returned, she now was aware that the man behind her…was her father. "Sleep well, my dear Arlohme?" A mocking smirk played on his lips as chuckled darkly.

She stood, body shaking furiously as memories continued to flash through her mind like a series of whirling filmstrips. "Not Arlohme…" she whispered steadily, although anger clearly clawed at her tone without mercy. "Not Arlomhe." she whispered once more, turning to face him. "You are fully aware that Arlohme is no more than an alias, one that was previously mine to utilize or not." She glared at Marik in what was easily discerned as disgust. "Seeing as you forced me to take my alias when you hid my own memories from me; the only phrase I can think of to describe you is doubtfully arrogant, because the name 'Mheralo' sounds rather familiar to me. Your arrogance is merely hiding the implication that you seem rather uncertain of what I remember and what I do not."

The smirk subsided slightly as Marik walked back over to the counter, sliding the facedown card into his grasp. He then took slow long strides toward her, taking note that her eyes were almost narrowed into slits. He could clearly see she did not trust him… there always was a first time for everything, but his goal of staying hidden and furthering his deception was more important at this point. Marik's smirk returned as held the card in two of his fingers, the details of which were visible only to him. "I believe this is your card." He said mockingly "I must have not returned it to you after our last duel, Mheralo. It seems such a shame that you did not recognize it when it was briefly in your possession before the finals began."

"What do you mean?" Mhera snapped. She was quickly tiring of his mind games.

Marik chuckled dryly as he revealed the card to her. "It was the card that I dropped; the one you picked up and returned to me after I had entered the stadium… without even a flicker of knowledge that it was your card; that it was your Possession of Destiny."

"You were testing to see if your plan worked…" Mhera felt her voice trail off, but failed to notice the slight pallor sweep across her face.

"And it did." The smirk returned. "I never do things spontaneously, nor do I allow the measures I implement be granted a chance at failure so early; you should be aware of that by now."

"Have you so little confidence in me to think that I would EVEN CONSIDER revealing you? I may despise your actions; even if I did reveal your identity, you and I both know that would not stop you; it would only be a minor setback." Mhera's words were laced with an almost justified fury, but even with that, the change of tone with her next phrase revealed how truly frightened she was about this whole ordeal. "How can you think me capable of compromising any of my loyalties… especially the one that I cannot compromise, no matter how hard I might try to do so?" She turned away, fists so coiled that her knuckles would surely go white in less than three minutes. Voice almost shaking with disgust-laden horror, she continued. "How is it that you can betray that loyalty so easily…betraying those who have given you so much, without even a flicker of remorse?"

"What of your other loyalty to me? How can you say you cannot break any loyalties when you so easily broke that one?" Marik softly quipped, suavely avoiding the question.

"That was not a matter of loyalty." Mhera snapped, eyes narrowing as she looked over her shoulder. "That was by contract and proposition."

"A contract and proposition by which you chose to abide, declining the amnesty I offered you." He stated smugly as he crossed his arms, smirking slightly. "Tell me, what does that say about you?" He stepped around her calmly, cocking his head to the side as he spoke. "Does it say you once followed blindly; that you failed to ignore the simple indications that something had gone a tad awry?" Marik halted his movement, as was his habit when presenting his final, often correct, suggestion. "Or…" He watched Mhera tense, his smirk growing wider. "Was it a lack of consideration on your part that led to it?"

"How does that concern you?" Mhera spat vehemently. "My loyalties, and the consequences, are mine and not yours. I doubt all of your loyalties have been kept."

"It is your loyalties, dear one, that have been brought into question, not mine." Marik quipped.

"How can you still address me like that after what you've done?" Mhera whispered with controlled fury.

"I hold no remorse; I merely did what was necessary to ensure your compliance." Marik's tone was emotionless, his eyes cold and distant.

"Is that true…is that true about the-about the proposition as well?" Mhera turned swiftly on her heel as fury began to build. "Was that merely necessary?" She accented her last word hotly, fighting back tears as the memories of the anchor, ring and card not played returned. She paced towards her father far too calmly, stopping inches away. Her voice shook with fury, fear, and sorrow. "Was chaining me to that doomed anchor necessary? Was taking my best friend from me necessary? Was that last act of pity necessary?" Mhera struck him with her fists repeatedly, each strike growing stronger than the last, making contact with Marik's chest after which she buckled onto her knees, no less than a softly sobbing heap. Her eyes were focused on the carpet as she breathed heavily.

He watched; watched as she gained and lost courage all within the span of a minute. He could have, should have, reacted. For some bizarre reason, he had chosen not to. He wasn't surprised; confrontation was only natural in this scenario. He expected her sorrow, her anger, her grief. However he had not expected her emotional reactions to switch so quickly, as if she regretted letting that emotion out as she had. It surprised him. She had every right to hold those emotions, as well as express them in a more aggressive manner. He shook his head in disgusted pity. "Get up." He stated tersely through clenched teeth, resisting the last minute instinct to retaliate.

Mhera gazed at the carpeted ground on which she was almost hopelessly slumped upon, blinking furiously in an attempt to push away the hot tears that clouded her vision. Why had he not retaliated? Why had he not lashed back in pride-driven fury? She was utterly at a loss for why he had simply allowed her to lash out as she had.

She inhaled sharply when Marik repeated his words irately. "I said get up, Mheralo." he almost hissed, and Mhera was sure his narrowed gaze was burning into where she still slumped.

Breathing an unsteady sigh, Mhera shakily rose to her feet, lips quivering; fingers twitching, as her teary gaze met two merciless, lavender pools. "What do you want from me?" Her voice was shaking uncontrollably under the weight of Marik's cold glare.

"What gives you any implication that I wanted something from you?" Marik never lessened his gaze as he continued. "If I desired something of you, it would have been the first thing I introduced into our conversation." He smirked, giving thought to an idea that presented itself. "However, given the fact that you have regained your memories... There is something that I want from you." He gestured over to the small mahogany table by one of the room's small circular windows. Mhera needed no second bidding as she took a seat grudgingly. He then took the seat across from her.

"What do you want?" Mhera asked calmly.

"What I want is simple enough, Mheralo." He rested his elbows on the table. "I require my true identity be concealed."

"Then you have nothing to concern yourself with; as I have said prior, I would never reveal your identity."

"It matters not; I have never been one to let things go to chance… especially when all the elements are in my control to some degree."

"What are you implying?" Mhera's eyes narrowed.

"You are only known under an alias, as am I… If you reveal me consciously or otherwise, your own alias is in jeopardy."

"What do you mean?"

"If and when you reveal me, you will be revealed yourself." Marik smirked smugly.

"I don't follow." Mhera furrowed her brows.

"Look in the mirror Mheralo; is the answer so evasive when you put that into perspective?" Marik cocked his head to the right, a falsely pensive expression on his face. Mhera's eyes went wide as realization struck. Marik only wore the almost permanent smirk that had been on his face from the start, rising from his seat. "Now you follow." He turned on his heel silently before adding, "The similarities are as noticeable as the differences; are they not?"

Mhera stood swiftly, striding past Marik as she made way for the door. "The differences seem to far outnumber the similarities at this point."

"Is that really what you think?" Marik asked, face expressionless as he heard Mhera's footsteps cease at his query.

"Yes." She stated, turning smoothly on her heel to face him, posture straight and firm as a board. She was silent after that, taking once more to looking at the carpet.

"You have something else that you wish to bring into that last statement of yours," Marik stated bluntly as he treaded lightly toward her. He stopped, observing her curiously; he took a deep breath as he cupped her face in his hands, tilting it up with a gentleness that stood in stark contrast to any of his previous actions. "Bring it out for me to see." Voice echoing the same long gone mannerisms, he hesitated. "Reveal to me my own madness; surely you have the most reason to call me a madman." He had discarded the gentle tone in favor of one spiked with the unmistakable slight insanity of eight years prior, stepping back, still facing her; attempting to create distance between them.

Mhera was taken aback at the soft gentleness she was facing from him. The sensation of his hands under her chin was not one of demand or obedience; when thinking back to those previous situations where changing her line of focus was a necessity for him, the gesture had been swift, almost merciless…and usually done with one hand's fingers, rather than the two palms he was using now. The sensation was one she had experienced many times before, when under her father's careful tutelage. Not that he ever put his hands under her chin, but it gave off the same sensation. His self-description of madman now contested his actions. A madman would have nothing to do with any gentle gesture whatsoever. When he started pacing back, she followed, keeping his hands under her chin. She felt his hands recede when he stopped. "You are mistaken, possibly misled, but not a madman." She whispered. "A madman would never have put effort into a foolish girl who has a habit of getting in over her head. A madman would have never made offers." Mhera shook slightly. "A madman would never care for the safety of a minimally influential human pawn of his scheme, even if that human pawn were to produce some unexpected issues."

"Foolish girl, you were never a pawn… you merely presented an inexcusable liability." Marik smirked, which faded with his next sentence. "If I really cared for you as much as you claim…none of what I have done would have been necessary…I should have protected you from my cruelties if your claim rang true. Instead, I led you into my despair." Marik's eyes narrowed. "And I would never need to have been so manipulative regarding the coercion into keeping my identity secret by threatening to unravel yours." He stepped towards her, closing his eyes; he inclined his head toward the small shelf near the couch on which she had awoken on. "However, I am not one to leave you completely defenseless. Your Duel Disk and second deck are over there. I suggest you take them before you leave." He stated tersely. Mhera swiftly obliged, retrieving the aforementioned items.

Pocketing the spare deck, Mhera slid the disk onto her arm and had just ensured a snug fit when the intercom blared, informing those on board of the duelist selection for the second match. She felt an inexplicable knot form in the pit of her stomach as Marik suavely slipped back into the pretense of his pseudonym with that almost genuine smile, using its mannerisms with his next sentence.

"You best be going; everyone who was concerned when you passed out will no doubt be relieved to see you up on your feet."

DH: Finally, I'm done with this shot…and after consideration will definitely be using this idea. Please Review.