Sooo...for those of you who received replies for your reviews: I almost made it the following week. A combination of having to share the computer with several other people and a nice flu bug I'm still trying to shake impeded my efforts a bit.
Reply to anonymous review(s):
TenabiiBee : "You are getting me way too emotionally invested" Oh emotional investment is goood. It means I'm doing my job right. (Bakura: You don't have a job, moron) Ouch. I'm looking forward to the scenes with Kisara myself. Glad to hear you approved of how things are going so far with that. "Why do you torture us like this?" The question should be: Why wouldn't I? :D
Alrighty, I so appreciate the numerous people who reviewed! Gave good insights and I did tweak several things based on the reviews. So thank you! This chapter is dedicated to the seven of you: KaiRipper, Bumbling Lobster, SHADOWoftheFOX, MyDreamsToYou, SAM thedragongirl, TenabiiBee, and dragonlady222! Chapter is shorter than the last one. Already working on the next. Enjoy!
What if there's
No one who I would put up with?
What if there's
No one who'd put up with me?
What if I'm destined
To always remain alone?
What if this question's
As selfish as it seems?
~Rachael Sage
Chapter 35: Ignorant
(Yami's POV)
Now an instant finally comes when Yugi has stopped complaining about missing Jou and school looming; coaxed out by Anzu who could see that I needed a break. I am home alone and the media has finally made themselves scarce, having grown bored and discouraged by the lack of excitement around here. While the lines of customers running the length of the block quickly became old news for them, it was a wearisome task for us. Glancing at the digital clock on the DVD player, I hold my breath in anticipation of something of which I am not certain. For an instant it is silent. I don't move muscle, ears straining before allowing my hopes to rise even remotely.
The doorbell rings again.
If it were the eloquent dice master he would be shouting profanities about having to wait so long. It's odd to half-expect it to be him after the numerous times he's dropped by in the past six days. Jounouchi's calls aside, he has been the one relaying things from the blonde and back. Anzu and Yugi continue to mutter under their breath about his intentions, whipping out the cell phones to double-check the facts with Jou himself after each word that falls from Otogi's mouth.
'To sleep or not to sleep,' I mull over this pleasant idea as the visitor presses the button once more, clearly undeterred by the dark locked shop. Obviously someone can't read.
My muscles loosen one by one starting with my toes as I vaguely remember Anzu instructing that time she tried to teach Yugi and me meditation. That didn't go over well. Strange I should remember that bit. Regardless of the reason, I close my eyes and feel my body sinking deeper into the cushions of the couch. How lucky those animals are that hibernate! Eat a ton and then sleep it off in some cozy den for the worst of the year. It's an oddly enticing thought after the chaos that has been ensuing in Domino lately.
"Will someone answer the door already?" a familiar voice shouts and I nearly fall off the sofa sitting upright so fast. "Or should I just take another 12 hour flight back to Cairo?..."
"Coming! Just a moment! I-!"
Scrambling around furniture I wrench open the green door that leads into the shop. A lone silhouette waits outside and despite the extensive days of endless lines of customers. I sprint to the door. My fingers fumble with the locks, heartbeat thunder in my ears. There is a fear of taking a second too long and watching him turn around and leave as I frantically claw at the door. Throwing it open in an overly dramatic way, I'm staring breathlessly into brown eyes that at the moment are looking at me with barely contained amusement. A dry smile twitches at the edges of his lips as he looks me up and down. I'm speechless, partially because I'm now panting from my mad dash, leaning against the doorframe to keep upright.
"Sooo…How've things been?" Ryou asks nonchalantly.
"I am torn between hitting you and hugging you right now. Feel free to sway me either way," I manage to retort, allowing both relief and irritation to show. "School starts in less than a week. Cutting it kind of close, weren't you?" Not about to mention how our anxiety had been increasing each passing day we did not hear from him.
"I have my reasons," he smiles and I come out of my stupor enough to usher him inside. The teen waits beside me as I redo the locks on the front door. "It was nice spending time with my father. I figured I should appreciate it since we're graduating this year. Once I enter university—."
"None of us will hear from you for the next 10 years," I jest as I follow him into the house where a single lamp is lit next to the sofa.
"I shouldn't think it would take me that long."
"We'll have to drag you out while you dig your heels in."
"Is that meant to be a commentary on my studying?"
"A mere prediction. That's all," I wave it off before a smirk works its way across my mouth. "Recall it, if you please, as we tow you back out into civilization under much protest."
"I will," he promises evenly, eyebrows rising into white bangs. "And for it, I shall kick you extra hard."
Chuckling, I concede, knowing all of these things could very well come to pass. If the fateful day does come when I am summoned to aid my friends in prying Ryou from his books, I shall be wearing methodically placed padding. Having witnessed the products of this hikari's wrath, I have to say I don't want to be on the receiving end. That makes it in my best interest not to say anything too memorable now that I will regret later on down the road.
"So you managed to keep it together for eight days without me. The apocalypse did not occur," he muses sitting politely on the couch and looking around for the others. "I didn't imagine it would be so…quiet."
"Only just," I groan perching on the arm of the sofa, feeling quite haggard. "Mr. Mutou turned in early. Ever since Jounouchi's rising fame we have become increasingly busy here."
"His duel was good for business."
"Pretty much. Though I do wonder if some of them are lurking around in hopes that one of us will let something slip," I pretend to be irritated even though it's an unsettling reality. We have to be so careful on what we say. Yugi and I often go over things in our mind link before speaking them aloud.
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
I grunt in agreement, and the conversation lapses into an awkward silence. Both of us are waiting for the other to give explanations and updates. I think it's only fair he begin since he was the one who got to have a break from all the pandemonium centered around his yami and Jounouchi. He is conjuring a list of reasons I should spill the beans first. Ryou clears his throat, shifting on the couch as if to sit more comfortably.
"Jounouchi is keeping busy."
"You were keeping track even while on archaeological digs in the Sahara?" I ask, wondering how much time he actually spent with his father. When Ryou left he had seemed so intent on having nothing to do with his yami. Had that just been a front? Or had he checked after his anger was allowed to simmer down?
"No. It was a long flight back," he clarifies rubbing his hand up and down the back of his neck beneath shoulder-length locks. "Plenty of time to kill and eight days of gossip to fill it."
Another pause and I wonder if it is my turn to share some information. It's not like we're playing 20 questions. I suppose I could elaborate on things that the media would not have any information. He must be curious as to how Bakura is doing.
"I watched the press conference," Ryou says keeping his voice monotonous so I cannot tell how he feels about what he heard. His yami's name—his own family name being spoken before a room full of reporters and cameras and broadcast to the world. That's going to be fun to clear upon our return to school. Our classmates will have a sudden interest in the quiet bookworm. How long will it take to fix that?
"They're still looking for the guy who blurted it out."
"So I gathered. Any idea who was behind that?"
"Jounouchi's agent is apparently taking care of everything," I shrug, having received no word from the woman on the progress of said hunt. Once Ryou meets her, I have a feeling his confidence in the whole affair will deplete considerably.
"How is she faring with my yami? I'm surprised Jou hasn't gone through multiple agents already."
It's the first mention of Bakura and I am hesitant about what to reveal. Last time I saw Ryou, he seemed intent on never seeing the thief again or re-sealing him in the Millennium ring. The hikari's relatively good humor makes me tentatively hopeful.
My own feelings on the issue of the thief are more convoluted than ever. It has not helped that there is no one I am comfortable discussing this with. After admitting the truth of ancient Egypt to Anzu, Yugi, and Ryou, I had been naïve enough to believe it would be easier to open up about the past and issues I am trying to sort through here and now. Who do I confide in when I am a role model and so confused and torn? I don't want their image of me to diminish further. Yet I have never felt that way with Ryou. He tells it like it is, not judging we yamis based on our pasts nor our struggles to live here.
"Yami?" He touches my shoulder. "Are you all right?"
I sigh. He has the right to know. I am unsure if I am the one who should be telling him. What are the chances of him getting Jou alone to talk though?
"Things aren't going very smoothly over there."
A frown etches into Ryou's features. "At the Watatsumi High-Rise, right? I can't begin to picture Bakura living in a place like that."
"He's never been one interested in material possessions…despite being a tomb robber," I mutter. Ironic really. It wasn't wealth that intrigued the red-eyed desert dweller. It was power.
"So he's not comfortable there? Please tell me he hasn't done anything drastic."
"On the contrary," I surprise myself by defending the thief. "He hasn't done much of anything."
"But there's a problem."
"Yes," I admit, not really sure how to phrase this. "We just…don't know what it is."
"Come again?"
I stand, wandering in front of the couch where Bakura's hikari is watching me with a perplexed, concerned expression. Part of me wants to smile and say to forget I said anything. He shouldn't have to go through this again. He has already been through hell and back with his yami. While Jounouchi shouldn't have to fend for Bakura on his own, I don't want Ryou to be sucked back into the thief's problems either.
My face must betray my thoughts because Ryou states, "Yami, I'll make my own decisions on how involved I will become in this. Just tell me what you know."
"There isn't much to say. The thief has…closed up. Jounouchi was worried it was heroin again."
"But it isn't?" Ryou insists, wanting to hear a definitive "no". None of us want to relive that hell again. And he dealt with the addict thief much longer than the rest of us.
"Not as far as we can deduce," I say sullenly, folding my arms over my chest. "Though I haven't seen him myself. Jounouchi claims the thief is acting depressed and indifferent to practically everything. It's like he's shut down emotionally. Which is almost certainly the reason Takara has been the only agent. We both know Bakura would be giving her hell otherwise."
My friend nods distractedly, deep in thought as he turns this over in his mind. It isn't a scenario he was readying himself to take on. None of us saw this coming. Why did Bakura go from livid to miserably apathetic? Jounouchi did not specify when exactly he noticed this change in his koi; whether it was abrupt or progressive. That makes it all the more challenging to pinpoint the cause.
Ryou massages his face with his hands.
"I need to think a bit."
"Understandable. Does anyone else know you're back?"
"You're the first," he reveals with a wan smile, turning the news over and over in his mind as he speaks. "I wanted to return without causing a big scene."
"So once in a blue moon things do go as planned."
He snickers, a light moment in this otherwise stifling atmosphere. Tension has been high around here lately for multiple reasons. The assumption that we'd have it easier once Bakura was out of our hair was an inaccuracy. I no longer know what role I am meant to play. The thief isn't interested in fighting anyone. And, as Yugi so candidly pointed out, riling up the tomb robber is about all I am good at accomplishing when it comes to Bakura.
Brown eyes that Ryou did not inherit from his yami settle upon me. He gets that knowing look, a forewarning to me that he has been observing me amidst all of this and has come up with a theory of what I have not even voiced. There are certain people that, at times, can make you feel like you're an open book. Ryou is one of said people.
"Now that we've gotten caught up: Ready to tell me what's eating you?"
I start only for a second before chuckling. Very few things get past this teen. Unlike those warm eyes, he definitely has Bakura's keen perception. The hikari is not so rough around the edges, personality-wise. He is rarely as blunt and considers other peoples' feelings and opinions. It almost makes me smile—the memory of Mahaado wanting to pummel Bakura for said directness. My mood quickly dampens once more when Ryou says my name, drawing me from one of the less dreary recollections of those times. They are plentiful. It's just so much easier to remember all of the horrible things that happened. The good memories are outweighed and pushed into some corner of my soul room to collect dust.
"I…don't know my role anymore."
"Your what?"
"My role. Everyone is moving forward." It's all so confusing inside my head. What are the chances of it being coherent when I say it aloud? Pausing, I try again. "When I first awoke, there was a goal. I wanted to find my memories. And I had people to protect and enemies to fight. Now-."
"All of those things are resolved and you're stuck."
"It feels selfish," I ground out, pacing in front of the television. "All of you are safe. We no longer have maniacs pursuing us that are trying to kidnap, kill, or turn us into mind slaves. And I remember everything about my past. Hells, I even got my own body so Yugi doesn't have to share every detail of his life with me." My brow furrows as I stop mid-step, foot slowly lowering to the carpet. "Shouldn't that be enough?"
"Hardly. Your multiple misadventures have finally drawn to a close," Ryou shrugs. "Is it any wonder you're feeling a bit lost after having spent so much time and energy on these things? I haven't reached that point quite myself."
He does not need to elaborate. Ryou's relationship with Bakura has been holding him back from living for several long years. That is part of what this second trip to Egypt was about: getting some space and being able to think more clearly without having to deal with the dramas that come with being around the tomb robber.
"You need to move on, Yami."
"But what does that entitle? It's easy enough to say but so vague a statement."
Russet eyes turn in light exasperation as he stands, brushing the knees of his jeans as if to smooth the wrinkles from the hours of sitting cooped up on an airplane. I feel like I did when one of Shimon's lectures were coming and fight not to look for an escape. Ryou is more to the point than my beloved advisor who could drone on and on until the original subject would be completely lost to all parties.
"It means doing something you are not good at doing."
Ego ruffled, I plant my feet firmly on the carpet, ready to defend myself from whatever that was supposed to imply. At least I can keep my tone level...
"Which is?" I rumble.
…or not.
"Letting go." He is serious too, all joking aside. "Past battles. Past grudges. Past loves."
All of the people I have lost…watching them fall one by one was excruciating. The betrayals I had no choice but to face head-on were perhaps the worst of all. Not to mention Malik and Bakura's transgressions in the present; using my friends as pawns against me in an effort to repay me for their banishments.
Or was that Bakura's reason? He never really said. That look he gave me once we had our own bodies and my memories had been restored to me—that haunted, beaten down look after all he had put me through when I didn't even know his name…
"I've been trying. Honest I have," I say, my shoulders remaining straight, unwilling to show how defeated I feel. It's out of character for me to willingly allow my defenses to fall. When was the last time there was someone who could be my shoulder? My haven. In these days I have been that person for others. But in doing so, I had to lock down my own emotions and uncertainties. Someone had to remain level-headed.
Ryou is not that person. While I am opening up to him now, we are not so close we'd meet often to talk of deeper things. More like we happen upon each other during times of crisis. He's just beginning his own journey towards independence. Soon enough he will know what I'm going through now.
"Changes like this don't occur overnight," the hikari smiles sympathetically. "Let yourself be lost for a little while."
Lost? I don't like the sound of that one bit. I don't have time to be "lost" and I certainly don't like the implications that come with such a word. It reeks of vulnerability. My face must look as aghast as I feel, because Ryou chuckles as he heads for the door.
"Or you can ask someone else's opinion. Sheesh. It was only an idea. You looked at me as though I had suggested you take fashion advice from Marik."
Thought it's meant to be an amusing tension-breaker, the comment sends a cold chill of dread through me. To have that blonde-haired, bare-bellied brat dressing me…Now that is a frightening thought.
I have enough of my senses to follow after Ryou who is trying to slip out through the dark shop, fearful of letting him out of my sight. What if he disappears again? What if this news about Bakura was more than he can handle and he takes off? I wouldn't blame him if he tried.
What if this is all a fucking dream?
"What are you off to?" I resist all impulses to block the glass outer door and physically restrain him if necessary. "You're always welcome here."
"Thanks, but no. I have a hotel room booked." I can hear the smile in his voice as he predicts my ashen expression. "My cell phone is operating again so you guys can get a hold of me. Don't mention anything to Jounouchi or my yami just yet. I'd like to talk to them myself."
He reaches for the handle.
"But we have plenty of room here!" I protest in a last desperate effort to keep Bakura's lighter half from running out on us again; though I must admit it is more for our sake than his that I am making this entreaty.
"It's fine," he replies with a laughing spark in his eyes. "For now I think it's best I remain in neutral territory, don't you?"
(Bakura's POV)
Another storm is concocting. Only this one is within one of our hideouts; one of our dwellings that is meant to be a haven. While it shields from the elements and strangers, these clay walls do nothing when the gale is between Malik and me. It is like a sandstorm that creeps up but is not yet upon us. Both of us are waiting for the unleashing of unforgiving winds. There is no escaping it. Midday should be upon us by now. Needless to say, I cannot venture out. Malik won't leave either. Not today. There's too great a chance there are people out there hunting for a traitor and a demon. Or so Malik says. I'm of a completely different opinion, but he doesn't listen.
I don't know half of his past with those people. Upon barricading ourselves inside, we have not spoken. Unfortunately, this isn't one of our larger shelters. There's only a tunnel about ten feet that winds around the corner from the entrance. Then we're here in the one room about 12 ft by 12 ft. Because of the close proximity, Malik has retreated to the tunnel with the excuse of playing lookout.
Taking an unsatisfying sip of cold water from a skin flask Malik made, I stare at the lithe, pale girl lying on several pelts and wrapped in my outer cloak. She moans and makes little pained sounds in her throat every now and again. I lean towards her eagerly when she mumbles. Nothing she says is coherent. Scowling, I sit with my back pressed against the wall. Two rushlights are set by her head and feet so I can view her every move, each unsteady breath. The smell of the burning animal fat is more noticeable in an enclosed area like this than in the vast rooms of the palace. The reeds are alight in the middle, stuck into the sand deep to ensure they do not topple over.
Malik mutters desolate things under his breath about her being better off dead and that if I wanted to be merciful I should slit her throat while she is blissfully unaware. Just short of biting his head off, I retorted he should go fuck himself. Because we are trapped here he stormed through the flap of jackal hides separating the small living space from the short passageway.
What is it about this strange girl that unsettles Malik so? Does he know who she is? Or what she is? I cannot tell what information he is keeping from me now. And even if he were willing to talk, how can I ever trust a single word that comes out of his mouth again?
Shaking that worrisome thought, as there is nothing I can do for now, I wonder where Atem is and hope that dastardly cousin of his is buried beneath a mountain of rock. If he is dead then there shouldn't be that much to fret. Malik is overreacting. Even though Seth saw us, there is no one to report that an ex-tomb keeper and a phantom broke into a temple, kidnapped a sacrifice victim, and murdered a high priest. While they will seek justice to avenge their fallen comrade, I doubt any tears will be shed on that bastard's behalf.
With Seth and his plots no longer a concern, I have other troubles to consider. What do we do with this girl? I already know Malik's opinion with his repeated opting for killing her. It enrages me that he won't even entertain the notion that she could hold remarkable answers for me.
Taking another sip from the flask—an action made purely out of sheer boredom—I am more antsy and impatient than any other instance we have been forced to lay low. I'm not afraid of Mahaado, who would be leading any hunting party if he did know I was in the temple last night. Atem wouldn't have the others find me. While Mahaado and I are far from being on friendly terms, he would hear me out; provided Malik and he didn't get into a squabble first. The priest knows of Seth's betrayal and he would secretly rejoice upon news of his fellow priest's untimely demise. Probably do a little dance in his head.
"Bakura, for the last time…"
He doesn't finish when I send him a most hostile glare. The hide flap falls behind him as Malik dares enter the small dwelling. Lavender eyes gaze at the defenseless female in unbridled aversion. I keep my wits, senses trained should his ka separate from him and attempt to slay her. For some reason when it is within his body, I cannot detect it at all. Even if he uses its powers—if he does not separate from it, it is imperceptible. No wonder I never noticed. He has on no account divided from it while in my company.
Malik looks beaten, dark rings under hard eyes. He's ready to crumple, keeping one hand on the wall. It's that small action that puts me on guard. Physically, he went unscathed in the brawl with Seth. But the magnitude of magic he used and the energies seized by his ka are taking their toll. Not to mention his paranoia.
"I already said I'll take care of her," I say while watching his every move intently. "You have nothing to gain by killing her, Malik."
"But plenty to lose by not doing so. Including the remnants of your sanity."
I'm on my feet, seething but unwilling to take those few short steps so I can slam my fist across his face. That would be a several steps from the unconscious girl. And that's all he needs.
"What makes her so dangerous?" I exclaim, planting myself beside her as I stare down Malik. "Why do you feel threatened by her? She doesn't even have a ka!"
"This is precisely the point!" As soon as the words leave him, he sobers. Malik's features twist, eyes narrowed and mouth downturned in a distressed grimace. My blood boils at the toxic mixture of anger and pity he is sending me through his eyes. When he opens his mouth again his voice is unusually quiet given his temper, though the tone has not altered.
"I know what you are aspiring to achieve here, Bakura. And I can guarantee that, regardless of whether we kill her or not, you will get nothing from this woman that will appease your qualms."
"That is a bold thing to say. How are you aware of what she does or does not know?" I spit. "Or is she yet another acquaintance from your past?"
The fires in his eyes become wrathful and he takes a threatening step forward. My mind flashes to him standing amidst the flames of his Shadow Aura, Millennium rod clutched in hand. He is commanding and potent even without the Item. It is unlikely I am aware of all of his ka's abilities. But I refuse to back down. Not on this.
"Admit it, Malik. You never wanted me to be powerful like you," I hiss, eyes stinging as I skirmish with my own emotions. "First you conceal your own ka. Then you forbid me from going to the palace. Now you want to get rid of the one person who could actually help me understand what I am!"
His knuckles smash into the clay wall, fissures spreading across the length of the small room like serpents from the impact. Malik goes completely still, head bowed, bangs hanging into his face concealing his features. Fingernails dig into the snake-like crevices, only his hand trembling as he stands there seething.
I can feel it.
It is not the aura of the creature circling us through the ceiling, floor, and walls that first catches my attention. It's the heaviness, like being slowly crushed inside a fist one finger at a time. I harness my own ka's powers, throat tight as the constricting grows tighter and my vision begins to blur. Malik lifts his head slowly, lavender eyes dismal as he speaks in a voice void of any emotion, any recognition of my friend.
"I was trying to spare you from these things."
"Stop acting like you did any of this for me!" I snarl, energies building around me, showering us both with clay dust as the air trembles. Malik's expression hardens, unimpressed and exasperated that I would dare challenge him in such a manner.
"Bakura, stop it."
"No! You stop it!" I shout, anger boiling, threatening to overtake my thoughts and actions. It feels like my veins will burst. "The way you go on about Atem and the palace—You know nothing. Just shut up! This girl is going to help me, so just leave her alone!"
"What do you honestly expect from her?" he rejoins. "Even if she were able to hold a coherent conversation, she isn't what you want her to be."
"I said shut up!"
"Think about it! What's more likely, Bakura?" Malik snaps, eyes gleaming and sinister. "That he's not the true heir to the throne or that you're human?"
"Shut up!"
Those callous words tear apart any shreds of amity I was clinging to for him. All of the internal battles I have waged to keep both Malik and Atem in my life…
"I don't have to listen to this shit. I'm finally seeing your best interests always involve you!" The room around us is darkening, the fire on the rushlights flickering wildly as if they were just blasted by a gust of wind. Another trick of his? I don't care.
Malik's eyes widen and he takes an unintentional step back.
"Don't you dare..."
Seini's words surface, pushing me forward, making me fight whatever it is Malik is planning: "This is not something you can unlearn. Your ka will refuse to return to its dormant state once it has been awakened." Malik cannot impede me anymore. No one will.
We are cast into darkness no light can penetrate, the room jet black as the rushlights go out like dying embers. A presence heavier than humidity following rainfall and more suffocating than smoke takes over the space, a low rumbling growl rising into a deafening roar that makes me shudder. Someone screams. Then the roof over our heads and the deep sand atop it are blasted off in a ray of green light.
It is only then that I discern it, though I could "see" before then. Seini had called his ka his eyes. I now understand, having sensed the smaller ka burst from the walls when the lights vanished in a vain attempt to hinder me. But I stopped it. We stopped it. There are no questions as to its abilities. It is powerful. Potent. And its strength is increasing with each passing second.
Diabound.
Power pumps through it like blood, and my mind is reeling as I climb up the large crevice in the ground that was our hideout only seconds ago. The girl lies undisturbed on the makeshift bed, a thin layer of sand on her skin darkening her complexion. Fingers grasping the edge of the clay that was the edge of the ceiling, I pull myself out of there, all the while keeping my eyes trained upon the creatures struggling in the sky above.
Malik's monster is caught by the throat by one hand, Diabound holding the struggling ka in an unyielding, crushing grip. Diabound's flesh that was as pale as mine is growing darker, becoming a grey color as if it were trying to blend in with the night. All at once I comprehend: Darkness is its strength.
My ka hovers high above, grasping that disgusting creature Malik has hidden from me for years. Perhaps out of shame? It's a hideous insect-like thing with red eyes littering its olive body. Its powers make it dangerous, but it is no match for my spirit. Malik's ka makes awful garbled noises, thrashing violently in its captor's grasp, unable to break free. Standing tall, I lower my gaze to the sands before me where my companion is mimicking the movements of his monster, clutching his neck with both hands while gasping horribly.
I do not show my surprise as I cautiously approach his fraught form, a cloud of sand surrounding him as he kicks and flays about with all his might. Seini had not mentioned anything of this nature. Is it because of the level of connection Malik has with his ka? That he can use its powers when it remains within his body? Standing above him, I stare down at him, unmoved by his current crisis, for the first time in my life not feeling any desire to help him.
"Maybe you're right," I say quietly as he struggles, choking on nothing, fingernails cutting into his own throat. "Maybe I am a monster." Leaning over him, I whisper: "Is that why you didn't teach me? Were you afraid of what might be lurking inside of me? Something you couldn't control?"
Rage flashes in his eyes, and I stumble backwards with a scream as what feels like knives rake across the right side of my face repeatedly, digging deep with each swipe. Flinging my arm back and forth while trying to shield my wound with the other, I meet only air. There is nothing. Panicking, I retrieve my ka, Diabound releasing Malik's ka and appearing in front of me as a shield. Hunched over, I breathe heavily, holding my sleeve to my cheek that has been shredded through. What was that? How did he manage to attack me? I had his ka! It couldn't have…
"You're still…ignorant to their world," Malik's hoarse voice coughs out.
His ka is on the ground behind him, flanks rising and falling in labored pants. Malik himself isn't faring much better, gasping on his stomach, saliva dripping from his mouth. Ribbons of blood are trailing down his neck onto the sand, bruises from his own desperate fingers marring bronze skin.
"What did you do?" I snarl at him, keeping close to Diabound should he attempt whatever he did again.
"His will heal. Yours—not so much."
His?
I tip my head back, mouth hanging open when I spot a wound that must be identical to my own covering the right side of Diabound's face from where Malik's ka caught him. They are gaping lacerations, two trailing across the entire spans of the face, the deepest cut traveling vertical from the edge of the eye down to the chin. Malik's creature has three gruesome talons on each limb; three of said claws soaked in some black liquid that is also oozing from Diabound's wound.
"Bastard!" I hiss, trembling as the cloth of my sleeve is already saturated with blood. Diabound rumbles above me but does not attack again. "This is all your fault!"
"I only take partial responsibility for this," Malik grunts bracing his tremulous arms beneath himself. "It could all have been avoided if you heeded my warnings."
I want to blast him into the next world and beyond. Power surges within Diabound, the creatures' skin continuing to darken as if a shadow were encompassing it. It is not just the color. The creature is growing. Fast. All at once I understand how it works, sensing the flow of magic increase tenfold within my spirit. Malik is gaping at my ka, his own abilities to detect such things apparently much sharper than most. He can sense the fluctuating energies emanating from Diabound but cannot figure why. Regardless, in the open desert with no walls to hide in, his ka is at a great disadvantage. While he could put up a fight, the victor is clear.
Pressing my arm harder against the wound, I glare at my traitorous friend.
"Get out of here. I don't want to see your face ever again."
He stares at me, wanting to punch or stab me; wants to fill my head with more lies. Despite his betrayal, I will spare him. I cannot erase our life together. And, in spite of my growing hate, I cannot bring myself to kill him. I try to assure myself it is nothing sentimental. No. It's because of this confrontation that I understand how to make my ka stronger. There is virtually no limit.
"You don't know it, but you have done me a great service here," I inform him, wanting to make him feel all the more helpless. "You may live."
"Listen to you talk!" he sneers rising to his knees. "Divvying out life and death as if you were a god!"
"I'm close enough now, if you have not noticed," I scoff that he would be so bold to challenge me still. Diabound looms over Malik and his wary ka that has yet to recover from the first attack. Eyes glow an eerie green against its dark grey complexion and the night sky. I hope it frightens him at least as much as the Mysterious Puppeteer did me. It stares down into Malik's eyes with all of the malice and contempt festering within me, reflecting my own budding hatred for him.
"You're going to regret this," Malik says, voice raw.
"Is that a threat?" I demand, Diabound raising a great hand to strike his ka down should the answer be 'yes'.
He starts to chuckle but it turns into a hacking cough. Malik's body spasms as he chokes, arms shaking awfully as he fights to keep from collapsing again. He spits twice, taking several shallow breaths before looking up at me. The aggression has diminished, instead a calm, settled look settling into his features as he realizes he holds no sway over me any longer.
"I don't need to threaten you. You've already decided your own fate by awakening that thing. If you return to palace, I guarantee your defeat."
I bristle at the mention of Atem's home. Now that Seth is gone, it is unlikely my love's uncle will act against him further. Even if he does, he is already under suspicions and will be easy to deal with. The only person endangering Atem's life now is kneeling before me. The snake that coils down from its body slithers close to Malik, tongue flicking at him, fangs bared as it releases an aggressive hiss. Malik remains motionless, watching the venom drip from fangs as long as his arm and landing on the ground directly in front of him.
"I think you get the message," I growl turning to collect the girl and relocate to another location where I can tend to her until she wakens. Then I'll get my answers. I pause at the top of the hole, not bothering to look back at Malik, Diabound's eyes trained upon him. Blood is gushing along my jaw line and down one side of my neck, a declaration of where we now stand.
"Come near Atem or the palace again and it will be your end. I swear it, Malik."
(Otogi's POV)
"Another dinner?" Katsuya asks in bewilderment, astounded that so many people would be offering to feed him. "B-But we just ate out last night!"
"That's the thing about dinners," I smirk as Takara rolls her eyes when his back is to her. "They have a tendency of reoccurring every day in the early evening."
The blonde scowls at me but does not respond to the verbal nudge for a squabble. He has not been himself this past week. For a while there I was certain he was merely being overwhelmed with everything thrown at him. The multiple-course meals staggered him as it was. And they are just the tip of the iceberg. From the expensive clothing to television offers, gifts from designers and hopeful retailers alike pouring in, he is amazed that all of this exhilaration is over him. Growing up in the ghetto district and then living in Yami's shadow, he's one used to trying to get attention. Now that all eyes are on him the guy has no idea what to do. Clueless as ever.
"What? You planning on compiling something suitable for eating?" I ask. "Unless Bakura's secretly been taking cooking classes while you're out…"
I watch as brown eyes dart towards the staircase leading to the second floor of the apartment where the pool and hot tub are located. So it's that again, is it? Takara does not catch the look, too busy making some notes on her phone and pretending to be listening to what he's saying. It has not been easy hanging with him. He isn't the most interesting of people, especially since every conversation seems to lead back full circle to the thief. I have found that mentioning Bakura is the one sure way to get the blonde's attention. It comes in handy from time to time.
"Oh! It's Yugi! I gotta take this!" Katsuya exclaims holding his cell phone high above his head and retreating into the open kitchen area before either of us can so much as blink.
Takara releases a long, irritated sigh, allowing a frown to form on her painted scarlet lips. She lowers her arm, staring at our charge who is wandering around the granite island before he hops atop it and perches there. Her scowl deepens and I chuckle at her obvious distaste for her client.
"Good to see all your hard working paying off."
"You and I sink or swim together, Ryuuji," she says under her breath, afraid Katsuya will hear. Usually I would not even think to worry about such a thing, but lately he has been abnormally quiet on the phone, almost speaking at a normal volume.
"Funny. I don't remember jumping in the water."
"We both did when we penned our signatures on Mr. Kaiba's documents." She shakes her head, Cleopatra haircut not moving, motionless as a wood carving glued to her scalp. How disgusting. "Besides, you were involved in this before I was. Hell, from what I've gathered, this was originally your brilliant idea."
"If we want to get all technical, then I may have played a part," I confess half-heartedly, loathing when Kaiba uses my own schemes against me. What I'd give to be looking over the latest stocks for my company rather than babysitting Katsuya. "But it all comes down to Kaiba and his obsessions, you know."
"Watch it, Ryuuji," she warns my speaking ill of our employer and sovereign. "You always push your luck with him. One day he won't be so lenient with you."
"Not today," I grin wandering towards the stairs and peering at the portion of the ceiling of the next level that is visible. Takara takes note of this, glancing at Katsuya once more before joining me.
"I don't understand what all of the fuss was about," she says with an air of disdainful amusement. "He's not dangerous at all. Quiet and aloof. Stays out of the way. Like a housecat." She steps closer to me so I can smell that sickening flowery perfume wafting off her neck. "That begs the question: Why are you still so uptight whenever he's around?"
There is no answer I can give her that she would believe. And it is certainly not anything I want to repeat to anyone. I would prefer to forget Battle City in its entirety…well, aside from Shizuka. Nothing else worthwhile came from that mess. The yamis got their own bodies and lives. I'm still not sure if that was a good or bad event.
"Just because a cat has retracted its claws doesn't mean you forget it has them," I say.
"So declaw him." The woman sends me a dangerous smile that foretells she is not going to back down for anyone save Kaiba himself. "If he gets in the way, you let me handle it. Though, from what I have deduced in our short meetings, he is not going to be much of an impediment."
'That is what disconcerts me,' I conclude but not aloud. She would not understand and my saying anything more is just an excuse for her to criticize me. Takara has not met the Bakura that the rest of us have so pleasantly been introduced.
'What the hell are you doing, thief? Is this all a game? Some act you're putting on so Takara's guard will be down when you strike?'
He was not trustworthy then and he certainly isn't now. The bastard somehow overheard my phone conversation with Kaiba that first night I stopped by Ryou's house. The ancient murderer was able to deduce that this is all Kaiba's orders. He just doesn't know the final objective. Not that he needs to. Bakura has the upper hand. He is well-aware that none of us are willing to spread news of the Millennium Items, each for our own reasons. The yami also knows that he has Katsuya wrapped around his finger. When it comes down to it, all Bakura needs to do is complain about any of us or openly threaten us. To appease his boyfriend, Katsuya would toss us out on our asses without hesitation.
This leaves me with the quandary of what to do about this scheme I have unearthed. He'll act as soon as he discovers our reasoning for helping Katsuya rise to fame. I can't wait for him to make his move. It will already be over. I need to act now and make him see that I'm on to him too. My eyes wander to the blonde who is chatting up a storm on his brand new phone, completely oblivious to the reality of his situation. Everything I've done to win his trust is finally showing results. All I need is some dirt I can use against the thief. And I have the perfect loudmouth source.
"Takara, why don't you take the rest of the day off?" I ask, keeping him in my line of vision.
She starts, not having expected that. Immediately the protest rises in her and she opens her mouth to argue. I shoot her my "let me handle this" look and she stills. Glancing back and forth between me, Katsuya, and the stairs, a very feline smile slinks onto her face.
"Are you certain you're safe here without me?" she teases brushing her elbow against mine. This annoying, horny bitch…
"Well I know I'm not safe with you," I say shaking her off. "I'll take my chances with Katsuya and Bakura." My eyes drift up the stairs again, wondering in vain if he's listening. "The mutt's not going to open up with you around."
"True," she admits. "It seems to be a mutual dislike. Though I must say I am well beyond aversion." A fake fingernail taps me on the shoulder teasingly. What is with her and touching me?
"Whatever intimidates you about Bakura—fix it." Her moist breath fans over my skin as she passes by. "You'd better have a damn good explanation for having me vacate the place so you can chat with him."
"I have a hunch."
I'm afraid to say more; that the psycho will come barreling down the stairs as soon as the wrong words escape me. Takara is displeased by this vague response, heels tapping sharply on the wood beneath the carpet loudly as she stalks away.
"I trust you will tell Mr. Katsuya some white lie in regards to my sudden departure."
"They are my specialty," I remind her smugly.
She pauses, her eyes roving up and down my frame before she turns in a fluid, graceful twirl like a model on the runway. I keep the smirk pasted on my face as she looks back as the door opens and sends me a suggestive wink. Only once she is gone do I allow the shudder of disgust to run through unsettled nerves. Bitch. And I doubly damn Kaiba for involving her in this, knowing what he does. Asshole.
"Where's Takara?"
"Phone call came in and the next thing I know she's babbling about an offer or deal," I say leaning against the translucent banister nonchalantly. "More fun in store for you, no doubt."
Katsuya groans as he comes forward, arms swinging at his sides in a childish manner. The designer silk shirt is creased and buttoned only halfway, exposing a plain, cheap undershirt. His sandy hair is as unruly as ever, bangs resembling an oddly shaped square or triangle…It depends on the position from which one views it. We're supposed to be building him up, be he's floundering in the very lifestyle he should be relishing.
"What's with you?" I ask playfully, wanting to keep the mood light and not appear to be fishing for bait. "Call me crazy, but you don't seem to be enjoying yourself."
He tugs at the wrinkled collar of the poor shirt and I internally wince at such poor treatment of such a fine garment. Such fashion goes to a waste with him. Brown eyes keep stealing glances at the staircase behind me, and a line of worry runs deep across his brow.
"Is he still acting up?" I nod at the ceiling and he pales. "Don't take me for a fool, Katsuya. It's blatantly obvious to anyone who knows him that something is wrong. For one thing, Takara's basically got free reign. What gives?"
Katsuya chews on his lower lip, debating how much he should disclose. This gets under my skin. Why doesn't he trust me yet? Look at all I've done for him! Is a little faith so much to ask in return? Sure I'm going to eventually turn it all around to use against him, but he doesn't know that. What an ingrate.
Just give me something to work with, mutt.
"That's what we're trying to figure out."
"And what's that mean?"
"It means Istill don't know!" he exclaims in a feverish whisper pointing at the ceiling. "He won't tell me. An' I'm scared to let Yami or the others over because things always get worse when they interact with Baku."
The ancient thief is using that fear to his advantage. Probably a dream come true to have Yami forbidden from coming near him. Even more so that it's Katsuya who is doing the banning. The former pharaoh is the sole person in this country who stands a chance against the thief's wrath. With Yami out of the picture, we're all fucked. Damn. This worsens my chances at success dramatically. I was planning on using Yami as a sort of shield if things got out of hand again.
"So what is he doing that is so disturbing?"
Please don't let it involve maiming anything. I can just imagine him sitting with a neighbor's cat in his lap, dissecting the thing while it's still alive, its limbs twitching…Or perhaps the neighbor.
"He's not doing much of anything. Just mopes around all day with the screens over the windows. If I'm not here to make him eat, he doesn't bother. Round the time school was ending Ry mentioned to us that Baku was acting this way. Soon after that Baku…" He gulps, apparently on the verge of an emotional breakdown. "This is how he was right before he tried to kill himself."
What a morbid way to keep the mutt under his sway. Freak out the blonde so badly that he's literally afraid for the thief's life. Very effective method. Katsuya wouldn't dare do anything to upset him and will do everything to pacify him.
My resolve wavers as a speck of doubt floats around in my brain. Based on what I've heard from the Katsuya and the others the suicide attempt was real. They haven't had him treated for anything aside from the head injury and heroin detox. If something else is wrong—which, given it's Bakura, is very possible—the likelihood he'd try to off himself again is quite high.
I need to be certain.
"So where is he now?"
"On the second level," Katsuya replies half-heartedly, not bothering to hide his misery now that I know. "Stays there almost 24/7. He hates our bed."
"What's wrong with the bed?"
I wonder if it's another ploy or some strange pet peeve. Despite the danger I am well-aware of, I really don't know much about Bakura, past or present. The more I can find out, the better prepared I will be for a battle of wits with him. And Katsuya is more than willing to talk about said thief.
"It's 'freakishly round'."
That's it? Of all the shit in their lives he could be bothered by and he chooses to hone in on a rotund bed? It is odd. And that it is something so mundane he has selected reaffirms my own suspicions that this is all an act.
"So what's the plan?"
"I don't know," Katsuya sighs resting his forehead against the railing pitifully. "I'm the only one he'll talk to."
Well that's something I'm not volunteering myself for.
"You're keeping Yami in the loop, right?"
"Yeah," the mutt sighs. "But I can't say much. Baku can tap into phones with the ring."
Whoa. Hold it. That's how the guy has been spying on us the whole time without even having to be in the same room? That's not fair!
"I'd like to talk to the others, but I don't wanna leave Baku here since…"
"Probably for the best with suicidal people," I quickly agree and he winces. "Tell you what: I'll go have a chat with Yami to see if he can shed some light on any of this. We'll do some brainstorming."
I might as well try. It appears doubtful that I'll be getting any more useful information from Katsuya. The best source would be Bakura, but that is not gonna fly. I'm shaken enough from the news that he can tap into phone conversations. What else is he capable of doing? It makes me go over all of the texts that I have been sending Takara and Kaiba while on the premises. Did he somehow read those as well? If he did, I'm finished.
I must have Yami enlighten me on the ring's capabilities before Bakura decides to dish out my punishment.
(Jounouchi's POV)
Otogi's suggestion gave me a little optimism and I eagerly saw him off, hoping against hope that he and Yami can put their brains together and come up with a plan that could help. It's no use trying to do it over the phone when Baku could easily eavesdrop and either get mad at us or retreat further into his reclusive state. That's assuming he has even bothered to tap into our conversations. I almost wish he were. It would mean he hasn't completely given up.
I'm lonely in this vast apartment, finding myself feeling isolated from everyone and everything. And I kinda am. My phone is my one channel to the outside world. Well, and now Otogi too. To think I nearly turned down his offer to help me out. Despite Anzu and Baku's warnings and my own instincts telling me not to trust him, I want to. So far he's looked out for me more than anybody else with this rags to riches transformation.
'Stay home tonight,' I decide, pulling out my phone and texting Takara that I'll be eating dinner here. Put in something about making it romantic just so she'll steer clear until tomorrow. Not that there's any hope of anything intimate taking place. When I told Otogi that Baku has lost interest in everything, I meant everything. He growls and wriggles free whenever he thinks I'm going too far. But, damn it, I have needs too! It isn't like before when we forced each other. I'm not willing to cross that line again.
The monitor next to the "front door" emits a drawn out buzz. Who could that be? My message should have scared Takara off. And Otogi wouldn't be back yet. Everyone else knows better than to visit.
"Sir? Mr. Katsuya?"
Hurrying over, I push the intercom button.
"I'm at the front door. Turn off all the others."
No need to have Baku bothered.
"Done. Sir, there is someone here to…your…Mr. Bakura is here."
I blink at the monitor where the man is looking straight back from the front desk.
"Baku's upstairs."
He exhales in what I am assuming is relief.
"We thought we had missed him."
"What's this about?" I ask, wondering if Baku really is upstairs and didn't somehow sneak out of the building again. He's the King of Thieves. If he wanted to leave undetected, I'm betting he could.
"There's someone here claiming to be Mr. Bakura," he pauses, unsure of himself. Again he glances at someone off-screen. "Sir, we've had people try to masquerade as residents before but…the similarities are uncanny."
Similarities? To Baku?
"Ryou!" I shout for joy pressing the button so hard it hurts my finger. "Let him in! Hurry up! Hurry up!"
"Wha…yes sir!"
I do a little dance while waiting for the elevator. Why is it so slow? I don't remember it being this slow! He's back! I can't believe he's back!
What do I do? Should I run up and tell Baku? Does he already know? Did he sense his hikari's presence before he even got here? Why hasn't he come down? Why didn't he say anything?
Why is the elevator so slow?
My questions aren't answered as the door glides open and I pounce on the hikari I've missed so dearly. He yelps, the two of us crashing down onto the floor of the elevator, my legs sticking out into the room alerting the sensors to keep the doors from closing. Ryou struggles under me as I practically nuzzle him like a pet that was left behind while its owner went on vacation.
"You're back! You're back! You're back!" I squeal—yes, squeal—embracing the hikari fully while he regains his wits about him.
"It's good to see you too. Glad to see you in one piece. Uh…could you get off of me now?"
"I missed you!" I cry hugging him tighter. He's here! He's really here! I'll never let him leave again! Never ever!
"I can tell," he manages to laugh, pressing his hands flat against my chest in an effort to push me off. "And I'll be all the happier to be on my feet again."
"R-Right!" I grin, quickly scrambling off of him and pulling him along by the arm "Don't tell Baku I said this, but I was beginning to worry you weren't…"
"I'm here now," he interrupts that horrible thought, resting an assuring hand on my shoulder. "So you can relax a bit, Jounouchi."
"That's somethin' I haven't done in weeks," I breathe, watching as he steps into the apartment with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Looks like you're surviving," he tilts his head back to get the full effect of the large screen television.
"Barely."
Where do I even begin?
Ryou returns his attention to me, ignoring all of the wonders yet to be discovered. The kind smile vanishes and his eyes sober. Somehow, I feel he knows something. Or at least has guessed.
"I went to see Yami last night after I left the airport. He told me there has been…trouble with Bakura."
My lip trembles and I bite down on it hard, tasting blood as I fight to keep the tears at bay. He isn't blind. He can see how shaken I am, damn it. I don't wanna break down in front of him or anybody. Pale fingers squeeze my shoulder as I gulp down the sob trying to climb up my throat.
"It's okay, Jou."
Unable to answer, I nod quickly to let him know I heard. Not because I agree. Ryou is compassionate and doesn't try to get the story from me this very moment. I haven't been able to talk to any of my friends face to face since things went downhill so fast.
"I know you're trying to protect him, Jounouchi, but you cannot do this all on your own," he states quietly, holding tight. "That's what I tried to do, and I failed him."
"You…You didn't have anybody," I argue in a halting voice, not wanting the hikari to beat himself up for that. It's not like any of us were volunteering to help him out, aside from aiding him in banishing Baku again.
"And you do. So stop shutting them out."
I shake my head. How do I explain myself? Of course he knows. He went through this a lot longer than I have. And that was without any affection from Baku whatsoever. In fact, there was a lot of hostility. How do you continue to take care of someone who hurts you so badly again and again? How on earth did he do it?
Dad enters my mind at that contemplation but I quickly expel any thoughts of him to some corner of my mind to simmer. Don't think about him right now. Though was Ryou and Baku's relationship so different from Dad's and mine? They lived together more because of their bond than anything else. Ry wouldn't have bothered if he hadn't developed some type of affection or need to protect his yami. He saw what a mess Baku was. Same thing with me and Dad…why I've never told anyone…
Ry lets go, arms falling to his sides. He already looks exhausted, tired of this fight to save his yami. But he isn't going to let it go. We already know what the cost will be if we give up on him. And next time he'll go through with it for sure. No mistakes.
I retreat into the kitchen just so my back is to him so Ry doesn't see the tears pouring down my face. Standing with my fists on the polished marble of the island, I lower my head and allow the sobs to rack my body. Deep, wrenching sobs that make my stomach ache and my head throb. I don't bother to keep quiet. He's well-aware I'm breaking here. But he doesn't intrude and I stop fighting it. I stand alone in my kitchen crying my eyes out, tears that I've been welling up for the past week. It seems so long since I had someone to comfort me and tell me not to worry. That they'll take care of me.
Hiccupping, I hastily wipe the back of my hand across my eyelids as Ryou finally approaches from behind me. He still doesn't speak, waiting for me to recover a bit. I don't turn, covering my mouth and trying to get control of my breathing. Gods, my heart is racing.
"I…I've done everything I can think to do." My voice cracks and I sniff repeatedly to keep my nose from dripping. "But…it's not enough." I turn to my friend, not caring my face is red and my eyes puffy. "What else can I do?"
He looks so sad, my breaking down a confirmation of how grave the situation has become in such a short amount of time. I feel responsible. I was supposed to be taking care of Baku. Ryou trusted me with him. I knew loving him wasn't enough to protect the yami. That's why I brought him here. But, turns out, Baku hates everything about this place aside from the hot tub.
Ry clears his throat.
"Anything from Malik or Marik?"
I shake my head dolefully.
"Nothing. I was hoping you'd run into them in Egypt."
"So was I, strangely enough." He pushes his bangs to the side with delicate fingers. "I don't think we should get our hopes up with them. I know Bakura wants Malik's support and approval, but even if they came back I seriously doubt he would get it."
"That's true." It's discouraging to admit. Heartbreaking too. Makes me think of one of my own best friends who I have not seen in weeks now. What are the chances I'll ever see Honda again? I almost don't want to. The chances are even less he'll have anything nice to say.
"So it's up to the two of us. Again."
I stare at the wry, mirthless smile, feeling the edges of my own mouth lift ever so slightly despite everything. Yes, it's up to us. With Ryou here there is still hope. The two of us combined have taken care of Baku for a long while. Where one of us fails to get through to him, the other usually can.
"Where is my yami now?"
(Ryou's POV)
My legs shake as I slowly make my way up the stairway with glass sides, not particularly fond of heights. This isn't a time to be giving in to such fears. Jounouchi does not accompany me; both of us agreeing that my yami must know by now that I am here. And perhaps Bakura will be more likely to open up to me about whatever is bothering him if Jounouchi is not present. It's worth a shot.
'Holy…!'
The second level is filled with ridiculous things to have in a home. There are two bowling lanes set up in the far corner along with an air hockey table and several video game machines. All of these extravagances are dark, turned off. Bakura's orders for sure. He hates anything loud or with lights. Jou, what were you thinking with this place?
A cushioned seat stretches underneath the entirety of the large window taking up a full wall. There is no sunlight though, the outside world dimmed by some dark screen covering the glass completely. Once again: Bakura. Even in a lavish place like this he has managed to shut out the world while not enjoying any of the luxuries.
'Not true,' I remind myself what Jounouchi told me, rotating to get a look at this hot tub that is apparently the only thing that placates my yami. A miracle machine, that's what it is. The pool is forgotten, not warm enough for Bakura's liking. Though he is through the detox he apparently still has a low tolerance for cold.
"What are you doing here?"
The low, monotonous voice makes my heart sink. My yami is curled up on a lounge chair, a light blue bathrobe pulled tightly around him and a thick white towel tucked over his legs. His hair is unkempt, most likely from getting wet, having it dry as he sleeps, and then repeating the process. He's wan, but does not look sickly like he did when he was on heroin. More like someone who spends all of their time cooped up in one place, resigned to whatever fate they have miserably accepted.
"Bakura," I greet, feeling awkward at once. It feels like forever ago since I had to deal with him acting like this. He was on heroin then. Now he's in full control of himself but seems so empty. I can feel nothing through our link but a sensation of what I can only describe as hollowness. Jounouchi was right. This is just like how I described my yami before he tried to…
He doesn't sit up, staring at me with vacant eyes that show no interest in my company. This is not what I had anticipated when I decided to come back. Jounouchi and I were half-expecting him to get in my face and curse me out. Yell at me for abandoning him with 'the mutt' and unleash all of those pent up emotions he's harboring.
But he doesn't.
"I'm back," I say stupidly, all of the things I had worked out in my head to say to him gone.
"I can see that," he mumbles turning his head on his pillow and going back to gazing at the bubbling waters of the nearby hot tub.
"That's it?" I blurt, taking a chance with such forwardness. "Aren't you going to ask me anything?"
"What should I have to ask you, hikari?"
I balk.
"How about that I just up and left while you were unconscious? Don't you want to know why…?"
"Not particularly. You must have had your reasons."
"…What?"
I can't believe my ears. Who is he? What happened to my yami who demands an answer for everything and takes offense to the tiniest matters that most people would overlook without a second thought? This has gone far enough. I fold my arms across my chest and wait, letting him know I will stand here for as long as it takes to get an answer out of him.
"Jounouchi told me you've been acting…like this," I say carefully, leaving Yami out of this completely. At this point I am afraid of what will happen if I try to rile him up. I can't predict him as he is now. "What happened, yami?"
He does not answer right away, jaw clenching, eyes darkening as he focuses all of his attention on the hot water as if his life depended on it. Bony fingers run along his sleeve, curling around the nook of his elbow in an almost unconscious recollection of the pain and false bliss.
"Bakura, don't shut me out. Talk to me."
I'm not frightened to approach him, kneeling beside the chair. He does not seem intent on harming me like he used to. At least he has not gone back to that. It's not myself I am fearful for. My eyes stray to the uneven scar tissue above his left eyebrow.
"Bakura, please tell me. You know you can trust me, right?"
Reddish eyes glance at me once again. His lips close. The only noises are the filters of the pool and hot tub rumbling quietly; almost like a continuous thunder far off in the distance. For all I know with the windows blocked out as they are, there could be a storm approaching.
"Bakura—."
"You can go, hikari."
"I…What did you say?"
His brows furrow into a glare, not a vengeful one. Determined. It is this unwavering resolve of his that has me terrified of what he is planning to do.
"I don't want to be your obligation any longer. You don't have to take care of me anymore."
I don't like the sound of that.
"Bakura, I'm not going to abandon you!" I exclaim placing my hand over his frigid fingers still holding onto his arm. I will not be dismissed. "What about Jounouchi? Is he obligated to you now?"
My yami blinks, a pained look crossing his features as he considers the question.
"He seems to think so."
"But you don't?"
"What do you want, hikari?" he asks wearily, fingers of his other hand clutching at the towel like a security blanket. "Would you stop trying to fix me?"
"No!" I practically yell, can't believe what he is beseeching me to do. "Jou and I cannot ignore this, yami. You can't even help yourself! We're going to help you through whatever this is."
His chin rests on the pillow again.
"Why? You don't want to."
A gasp escapes him as I grab a handful of his hair and pin him down on his back, the palm of my hand pressing into the Millennium ring daring him to try anything. He gazes up at me with wide eyes. Never have I dared treat him so roughly. We have on no account physically fought. I am almost relieved when that old fire sparks in his eyes even though it means there is a good chance I am about to be blasted across the room. Deciding it's best to deter that idea I tighten my grip on his hair, fingers curling until my knuckles are as white as the nest of hair surrounding them. He's fighting against his own instincts now, the metal beneath my hand heating in warning. I don't care. I'm pissed.
"Don't you dare tell me what I do or do not think!" I growl at him quietly, not wanting Jounouchi to come racing up the stairs and find me about to beat the shit out of his boyfriend.
(Funny. You think I would have the general idea, given the mind link.)
((Stop evading, yami!)) I follow his suit and switch to our connection too. ((Just tell me what happened already!))
(You have a strange way of showing you care) he says dryly, and I would punch him if it would not prove his point. (What is the real reason you came back, hikari?)
I tense, inwardly cursing that I could be so obvious. He's always been able to read me well, mind link or no. While he isn't a master at concealing his own feelings, my yami is hard to comprehend. I know what he's doing though. And I won't fall for it again.
Straightening, I release him from my hold. He looks up at me in surprise, trying to enter my soul to figure out what I am up to. Not looking at him, I pull a nearby chair closer to his and sit down on it.
"Jou, you can come up now!" I call. The blonde's footfall is immediately heard on the stairs.
Bakura banishes his confusion, a scowl appearing in its place as a panting Jounouchi appears. Jou smiles tentatively, practically jogging over to us. My yami glowers, obviously wanting to have heard the answer to his question. I won't give in so easily. Especially when he is not willing to meet me halfway. As Jounouchi reaches us Bakura sends me a flat-out glare. I smile innocently for Jounouchi's benefit. Looks like I've been underestimated.
((You won't chase me away again so easily, yami.))
Bakura: *GLARE*
Ryou: Mwhahaha!
Jou: "?"
So we have Ryou back. *grins* I'm happy. It was getting hard to write when so many of the characters leave.
Ryou: And whose fault would THAT be?
I've picked up my pace on writing this. Wanna get it DONE...but done well. :3
Will love any reviewsies! XD