"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
*grins* And so, as we enter yet another year, I'm still here. And if you're reading this, then you're still here. Crazy. ^_^ Health problems have messed with me psychologically lately, so I do apologize for the delay. Had only 2 days I wasn't busy in December and I freely admit to not writing that month. Those two blissful days were spent napping and vegging out.
Chapter dedications! Let's seeee: SHADOWoftheFOX, MyDreamsToYou, Bakurafangurl91 (Sadly, your predictions for my next update did not come to pass. I failed you. *bows head in shame*), and in a very special way to NekomataFangirl.
Lyrics used between scene breaks: "I Walk Alone" by Tarja Turunen, "The King's Horses" by Olivia Chaney, "Too Late" by Fisher, and "Hand of Sorrow" by Within Temptation (the last of which was a significant inspiration for this story in its early stages)
NOTE: Okay, listen, there are errors in here. I'm sure of it. One can only re-read it so many times while rearranging and then re-rearranging scenes. I always see the errors as if they were highlighted in bright pink...AFTER I have updated, that is. *sigh*
Go back to sleep forevermore
Far from your fools and lock the door.
They're all around and they'll make sure
You don't have to see what I turned out to be.
Chapter 44: Displeasure of the Dead
(Bakura's POV)
I waited all through the day and halfway through the night before giving up on talking to the sunu. My apology for bruising him and for my harsh words will have to be postponed. I could not stand waiting any longer. My nerves could not bear it.
I dismount the terrified mare as soon as we are clear of the city, the animal fleeing back from where we came. My bones are not quite mended from the disaster with Kamenwati four weeks ago. No need to repeat that. Twice I was sure I was going to be thrown off as we made a mad dash through the city streets. While one group of soldiers spotted us, ordering me to halt given the stupid curfew has been reinstated, they were pretty useless on foot. Even if by some miracle they'd managed to catch up, I could easily rid the earth of them.
The resistance of the sand rolling out from beneath my feet causes my calf muscles to strain. After my past two injuries with extended stays at the palace I am not as physically able. Malik will scoff if he finds out how I've been pampered. It doesn't matter that it wasn't voluntary on my part. I pull my hood down farther, the chill of the desert night air nipping at the exposed flesh of my face around my eyes. I squint as the wind picks up, knowing I need to get moving. My searches of our hideouts before turned up no clues as to my frien…Malik's whereabouts. He left everything untouched, save one place. Despite my deep desire never to have to go there again, it is the last known destination of the ex-tomb keeper. With this knowledge I had damn well find something I missed before.
(Yami's POV)
Huddled on the floor, I stare upwards through the circular hole in the roof. Tonight there is no moon, clouds choking and smothering the stars as well. Perhaps that is why I came here. For refuge. I thought I would feel nearer to Bakura but I don't. Several hours of praying have passed and I am drained. I'm trying so hard to do everything alone while keeping up the façade that I am all right. I'm falling to pieces and no one is here to catch any of the shards and try to put me back together.
I cringe when someone raps their knuckles against the temple door I left slightly ajar. Probably another group of soldiers on patrol. They, as well as my priests, are quite insistent that I be escorted by armed guards like all pharaohs before the Millennium Items. So far I have managed to refuse and evade. They are all worried, what with the phantom with a supposedly potent ka of his own. What exactly do they expect the guards, or anyone aside from myself and Mahaado, to be able to do?
"Pharaoh?" Seini's voice inquires from the blackness, the sunu having no need to carry any light with him at night like the rest of us. My stomach sinks. "I did not mean to intrude…"
"It is no intrusion," I reply tightly, unmoving from where I am lying on my back, legs curled up left side.
The sunu remains in the doorway, having not lost the reverence as Mahaado has as of late. I wish he would so I'd an excuse to speak against him. I invite him in and he obeys, closing the door completely behind him before his hands retreat to the arms of his white robes to ward off the cold from outside. I don't want to talk to him. I'm mad at the sunu for being in better favor with Bakura than I am. I know it's stupid and childish of me, but I cannot help it.
"You knew where to find me."
He stares straight ahead even though he can tell I am sprawled on the floor in a very ungodly manner. White eyes fix upon the statue that, without the moonlight, seems nothing but plain, dead stone. What happens to Khonsu when the moon vanishes? Does he still answer prayers and watch over those under his protection? Or have I just wasted a lot of time beseeching no one?
"If you recall, it was where I happened across you last time he ran off."
I look up in surprise, propping myself up on my elbows.
"Bakura's gone?"
The medicine man pauses, lips pressed in a thin line as my anxiety registers in his ears. I immediately regret asking, sounding so frightened and surprised. Shouldn't I be the one who knows when Bakura runs off to the wilderness?
"That's not possible. We made a deal that we would talk and plan out those excursions to the desert before he…"
My voice fails me as Seini's expression does not alter. He will not shield me, not from this. Trying to conceal Bakura's betrayal will not help anybody. How long would it be before I was scouring the back halls of the palace for him? It's just…
"But he…he promised."
How desperate I sound, voice hitching. How childish and reliant. Nothing like what a Pharaoh should sound like. I need to be in control and not let the world frighten me so. It is a dangerous world that Bakura has thrown himself into yet again, now a target of anyone who happens across him. How can I protect Bakura if I don't even know where he is?
"You know for sure that he left?" I ask hoarsely, trying to reassemble my composure in the presence of this holy man.
"I have a hunch. He was alluding to it after killing Seth."
"And you did not try to impede him?"
The elder smiles, reaching a hand covered in scratches up to the purple bruise swelling beneath his eye.
"I didn't fare so well when his thirst for blood was at its peak. If Priest Mahaado had not intervened…Well, he did at any rate. But it made me more than aware that I am not in any position to challenge Bakura when he has set his mind to something."
"You sell yourself short," I reply and he does not disagree. With Millennium Items and ka collections, with all the 'new' magic at our disposal, I sometimes forget who I am in the presence of. A costly mistake. The lack of an Item does not make Seini helpless or powerless. He is respected by everyone in my court, my followers and foes alike, and for good reason.
"Seini."
His chin lowers so it appears he is gazing at me. At one time, when those eyes still functioned, they looked to my father and his father before him. He watched this kingdom and country grow and flourish under these mighty men. With all of my blunders and shortcomings, I feel like a mere shadow when Seini has seen true greatness. It makes me hesitate because of what I was not aware—it's humiliating that I was the last to know, that I had to be told. I am Pharaoh. I should have sensed it, but I had not the slightest inkling even when making love with Bakura. My shame almost stops me from asking, yet I must know.
"Mahaado suggested…Mahaado said…" I stumble, unable to phrase it in a non-accusing way. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors and…I just want to know if you…because Mahaado s-said…"
"I taught Bakura to summon his ka, yes, Pharaoh."
It shocks me to hear it even though my priest had prepared me by mentioning Seini as the possible instructor. I don't know whether I am relieved that it was not Malik. All of my emotions are jumbled with anything concerning Bakura and Malik.
"While I sensed he was harboring a powerful ka, I had no idea. He wanted to…"
I hold up my hand in a violent movement and he stops speaking immediately, needing no verbal cue for silence. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear the reasoning or "logic" in Bakura's mind. In the past day and night I have witnessed just how much he can twist things to serve his own purposes and justify himself. He has always thirsted for power. Is it any wonder he would go to the sunu to obtain it? Rage is thumping through my bloodstream and I'm too angry to figure out who exactly is the target and cause. Are they one in the same?
"You have heard what Priestess Isis has said?" I ask, harsh and quiet, afraid more ears will hear. Khonsu sits aloft, giving no sign to eavesdropping.
"Forgive my impertinence, but that Item is hardly dependable."
While I have to agree with him on that, I am not going to get into a debate with him regarding the Items, knowing his stance full-well.
"That's what I said, but Mahaado has gotten it into his head that Bakura is a real threat to the rest of us. To me," I say placing my palm flat over my heart. "Something has happened to Bakura, Seini. I barely recognize him. Ever since he came back with that injury… The things he says, they can be cruel and I don't understand what I did wrong." I look to the sunu beseechingly but he remains hushed, waiting for me to unburden myself. "The two of you have become close. I am quite sure he prefers your company to mine these days," I add bitterly.
"Do not demean yourself. You are upset and rightly so," the sunu says, his face becoming more visible in the pale light of the beeswax candle flickering at my feet. "When Bakura returns from whatever he…"
"He's looking for Malik," I blurt, unable to contain this ache inside me any longer. "He's looking for his friend and I killed him. No. I banished him to thousands of years of confinement and torment. How shall I break that news to Bakura?"
Once again, the sunu goes quiet, letting me heap my problems onto him. He says nothing. While he knew about Malik's sealing, only Mahaado and myself are aware of the connection between Malik and Bakura, as far as I know. I must have shocked the sunu with this information. I don't care. Let him be troubled.
"Do you know what it really is?" My voice has become small, meek even. Mahaado's damning words and suggestions have been following me around, pecking at me like a vulture. "That Malik means more to him than me."
"I…am sure that's not…"
"It's true!" I bellow, a sob wrangled in my throat. "Why else would he sneak away and break his promise if my feelings are relevant? Why risk our relationship if Malik is not important to him? And I cannot even make it up to him. Look at what I've done, Seini!"
My shoulders heaving, I force back the tears of desperation. There is no need to be desperate. There is nothing to be done about it. I cannot alter what is finished. Even if I could bring Malik back, what on earth would I do with him? It wouldn't undo any of his transgressions. He would still be the enemy. The gods would never allow it or forgive it.
"You were doing what you deemed the best course of action to protect yourself, your people, and Bakura. Malik was a traitor, a murderer of a man of noble blood. As if that weren't enough, he desecrated sacred places of our dead. Our people's Afterlives were defiled by him. Punishment was required. There is no fault in that, Pharaoh."
"I'm afraid Bakura will see it differently." I take a quivering breath. "And…I didn't do it for any of those reasons. Not really. It didn't have to be banishment, you know. I—I just wanted to hurt Malik, to get revenge for Bakura when now it is clear he doesn't want that." Seini has no idea what I'm talking about now. It doesn't matter. Shoulder slumping, I lie back down on the cold stone and burying my face in the crook of my arm. The pain, these secrets are unbearable. "I didn't mean for any of this and now I cannot even beg for forgiveness. He would never let me get that far in my confession. It's tearing me apart, Seini. What do I do?"
The old man sighs, fingers stroking the trimmed white beard of his chin as I heap all of my woes onto him. Did he do the same for my father and grandfather? Did he hear the secrets and human pains of the gods he followed? I want to ask. I want to know if it ever made him wonder, ever made him doubt their divinity. Wouldn't that happen for most people? He couldn't always have been this confident in the man he was following. Humiliation keeps me from asking, for fear that they were perfect and strong and unwavering.
"I think, at this point and time, it is best that you wait. Just wait, Pharaoh. I know," he holds up his palm to me in a gentle admission that he does understand as I pull my arm down. "I know that is one of the worst possible answers I could offer, but it's what is best for everyone at the moment. You cannot send anyone after Bakura and, to be blunt, I do not think he would be very receptive," he adds with a thin, grim smile. "What you must figure out is what you will do when he gets back." He leans closer, white eyes gentle but firm in their gaze. "Because he is coming back, Pharaoh."
"You are more certain than I am of this," I scoff, troubled that it is the truth. Seini has more faith in Bakura than I do.
"He loves you, Pharaoh. When all is said and done…" He pauses, shaking his head. "Bakura loves you," the sunu says but looks saddened. "You cannot doubt that?"
No. He loves me. There is no other explanation for how much he has changed for me. The lengths to which he has gone…Mahaado and Bakura rarely cross paths—for good reason—so my friend does not see all of the wonderful things in Bakura's character. My ruby-eyed lover always has his guard up around Mahaado. There is a side to him that no one else has seen…at least, I don't think they have. Unless Malik and Bakura…
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, willing those treacherous thoughts away. Mahaado is wrong. Bakura will not come after anybody else. Well, maybe Akunadin. That would take care of any danger my uncle poses. I am not willing to stoop that low. I am a living god on earth and need to keep some dignity. I would not ask that of my lover. Bakura doesn't understand such ideas, the need to survive kicking in whenever he so much as senses a possible threat. I will have to make sure Bakura doesn't try to face off against my uncle. He would lose.
"What must I do?" I beseech the sunu how to come back in favor of my ruby-eyed love even as jealousy for his closeness to Bakura is gnawing at me.
"That," the elder says, face masked by the shadows, "is up to you. Priest Mahaado had mentioned something about construction of a temple?"
"Of sorts," I mumble, not wanting to explain; nor am I obligated to reveal anything to the sunu that I do not wish. His going behind my back to teach Bakura to summon his ka will not be easily forgiven and certainly not forgotten anytime soon. Still, it might be best to focus my attention back on the project once more. But how?
"All dangers have not passed and you must tend to them, regardless of whether Bakura is present or not, Pharaoh," the sunu says as if reading my thoughts. He seems to consider something privately before saying, "You must work on your connection to the gods."
"Did you read that in the smoke along with my permission to teach Bakura magic?" I ask, throat tight, words biting. How dare he hint at my shortcomings after using all of his time building up Bakura, knowing it was against my will? He could have been aiding me. More than that, he does not respect me as greatly as I thought if he could do something like this behind my back.
The sunu does not answer, eyes closing. It's infuriating. Seething from the inside out, I scramble up, glaring at the holy man who has no reply.
"Stay away from Bakura, Seini. Do whatever you must. Lock your chamber door. Set up a spell to block his entrance." I flick away the sand that clings to the puzzle from my time spent on the floor. I'm done with lying like a victim and waiting for the final blow. "I forbid you from going near him again. That is my command."
(Bakura's POV)
It still smells like smoke in here. I kick at the charred remains of the backstabbing bitch, blackened bones cracking as I apply more pressure, relishing in the sound. It isn't surprising Malik burned her, as I think about it. According to the religion—which he tends to follow more often than not—she had her ka separated from her; meaning she'd never enter the Afterlife. The only worse punishment is burning someone's body. Then they are set up for eternal damnation. I'm not sure where exactly they end up. For some reason it's important the physical body remain intact. I lost interest whenever Malik tried to explain such trivial superstitions to me. Punishing the bitch wasn't likely Malik's aim here. Seeing as how she was already damned without her ka and having no one to perform the mummification ceremonies, she wasn't in any better shape as she was lying there. That and the body attracted creatures not used to such abundant carrion. Malik did it to spare her from ending up in the digestive tract of desert scavengers.
"Bitch," I growl, taking pleasure as the fingers snap beneath my sole.
Diabound stirs within me, feeding eagerly on the festering hatred I continue to carry for the girl who bore such a strong semblance to me. It was all a lie. The pain I suffered while caring for her was for naught. Not wanting to waste any more time and get trapped here for the day, I duck under the smoky curtain and pick up the rushlight from the floor to continue my sweep of the place even as I know it's futile.
I've checked it over four times now. There is nothing here. If I had to guess, I'd say he found the body, burned it, and promptly left. Why remain? What I cannot figure is where he went next. Did he go looking for me? Having seen the mess I made of her, and justly so, Malik would have understood my frame of mind.
'Probably deterred him from coming after me,' I muse, feeling just a little guilty and quite proud. 'But if he decided to give me more space, how far away would he go?'
Cursing, I stomp out of the place that reeks of fire and death. It's useless. Too much time passed by while I was recovering, a captive of Atem and Seini. The winds continued to billow, the land ever-changing where no man can control it—not even one claiming divinity.
A whinny in the distance has me turning sharply, expecting Mahaddo or someone from the palace out looking for a demon. A dark brown stallion stands on a dune overlooking the doorway to the hideout and its surroundings. I narrow my eyes as I study the animal. Its feet stamp in agitation as I try to determine whether the rider-less creature is Malik's new mount.
"Adjo?" I call softly, not trusting he won't turn tail and flee.
The horse whinnies again, retreating at a nervous trot. Not discouraged, I hurry after, panting as my muscles, lungs and heart complain at the exertion. I would have kept my distance anyway, not wanting to scare it into a panicked frenzy like what happened with Kamenwati. This horse doesn't know me well either; my time spent mostly sneaking to the palace. Malik was left to his own devices. Months ago, I don't remember when exactly, his faithful steed, Aapep, suffered a horrible fracture from a misstep on the uneven terrain. Malik had no choice but to end the horse's suffering right then and there. Alone. It pains me to think of it, knowing we both might have been spared having to go through the losses of Kamewati and Aapep separate from one another.
'You could have kept us both from this, Malik, if you had not withheld secrets from me for years.'
The fruit trees are shadows swaying like giants in trances. I do not remember this particular oasis. They come and go. I never spent much time at the place that is now the bitch's tomb. Watching the horse's flanks as it withdraws into remnants of underbrush, I am certain the skittish animal is Adjo. He keeps a wary eye on me, stalks of many plants all that remain after what seems a great amount of time spent here on his part. Not used to our treks through the desert, he does not know where else to go.
Placing my hand on the rough trunk of the nearest tree, I survey my surroundings. I count twelve trees in all. The lower branches are stripped of greenery and fruit, bare branches dangling down like gnarled claws. My senses are running crazy searching for Malik before he notices my presence. My unease deepens when I don't feel any company aside from the horse. I mean, I wouldn't be able to sense his ka unless it left his body; one of the perks of that hideous spirit. He's good at going unnoticed when he wants to but I should sense something. Also, it isn't like him to let his steed wander off.
"Malik?"
My voice is timid as a small child calling for its mother. Pride be damned. He's seen me at my worst and when I was vulnerable. He can make fun of me later after we've settled this dispute and he apologizes. I just want him back. I feel…safer when I know he's around. It needs to be more than that though. I cannot just use him as a shield when I feel exposed. It didn't used to be like that. I changed it by pushing him away. He may have not been forthright about lots of things, but I was the one who caused the initial rift between us. Of course, that wouldn't have happened in the first place if he had been upfront with me from the start.
The horse makes a pathetic noise, cowering in one of the few remaining plants, ears back. I take my chances, staying alert for traps Malik is so talented at rigging. A shallow pool of clear water is to my left with the trees congregated around it. Adjo continues to sweat and stamp as I peer about, heart sinking when I see there is nowhere left to hide. Another cold trail?
Birds screech overhead, fleeing as I pass beneath the trees that bear fruit only further up where a horse cannot reach. They don't just go higher. They leave, despite their impaired vision in the dark, ramming into one another in their blind panic. I watch this morbid confirmation of what I was already coming to suspect from my own observations.
'Just like in the royal city…'
I let that thought go, let it simmer for a while as I figure out what I am to do next.
Sighing, I make my way over to some rocks beside the water's edge, nearly stepping on an upturned wooden bowl. My breath stops. Nearby, set against a tree, is a packet. Heedless of traps, I rush over and dig through it. A water flask, dried fruits and nuts that have gone bad, an assortment of cloths and bandages, as well as various other things we carry in our supply bags. I pull my hand back when it touches something scratchy beneath the sand. Recovering, I kneel and quickly dig with my good hand, revealing two of Malik's outer cloaks used to fend off the night cold. Heart racing, I continue at this steady pace of frantic scooping for several agonizing minutes, sweat pouring from my brow before reaching the conclusion that he is not buried under the sand.
Then my eyes look to the rocks, spotting the whetted knives lined up neatly on a large, flat stone. A layer of sand coats them, telling me they were not placed here yesterday. Fear lines my stomach as I reach down and brush one of the blades off with tremulous fingers. These are the weapons he carries on his person. His favorites. My eyes scan them wildly, discovering two are missing.
His knives are here; his preferred means of defense after avoidance fails. All of his gear and supplies are here and in bad condition. Adjo is here and has been for some time judging by the state of the oasis. The lack of greenery is allowing the desert to move back in to reclaim the area. There is no body. Any other clues like footprints are long gone. As my heartbeat picks up again, the horrible notion finally becomes reality: Malik could not have, would not have left Egypt. Even if he joined a passing caravan he would have taken his weapons and horse. And he couldn't have gone off alone. He wouldn't have made it far without Adjo. Travelling great distances on foot out here means one has a death wish.
Malik. He wouldn't have…? No, not Malik. He wouldn't have committed suicide by wandering off into the desert. He's too stubborn to give up on everything. Plus, it appears he had been shadowing me until I dragged myself to the temple of Sobek in hopes Atem or Seini would find me. So, what then? In which direction do I turn now? Malik isn't out here. He didn't make it any further than this spot.
'That leaves one possibility,' I realize with a growing dread. Seth might not have been lying to me after all. Gulping down the fear rising within me, I look back in the direction where the royal city lies in wait for me, ready to snap its jaws shut upon me as soon as I dare reenter its walls.
Thought once I had a King;
Wore an invisible crown,
Sometimes spoke truth,
But mostly he knew to say the wrong thing at the right time.
Faithfully I played the clown.
(Yami's POV)
There are several messages in my voicemail. Two from Anzu and five from hikari. There is some satisfaction in their being worried about me, yet it is also a bit irritating. I asked for some time alone, that's all. If I hadn't turned my phone off they would have kept calling, kept demanding I talk to them. We need to set some healthy boundaries.
"Couldn't stand leaving you alone?" the dice master asks, peeking over my shoulder at the screen as we enter the main lobby of the aquarium.
"Apparently not," I sigh, as Yugi's number dials again; the first time having gone to his voicemail. "Might as well get this over with…Hey!" I exclaim as Otogi reaches and hits 'speakerphone'.
The dice master grins at my questioning and irritated stare.
"What? I'm bored. Need some form of entertainment. Your friendsome soap opera will have to do."
"This is supposed to be a private—."
"Yami!" several voices exclaim causing the dice master and I to jump.
"The hell…?"
"Yami, are you all right?"
"Where are you? Are you hurt?"
"Guys, calm down!" I say, frustration rising as they shoot these overly concerned questions at me left and right. And they wondered why I was feeling overwhelmed. "Geez, I turn off my phone for a few hours and you all act like I'm…"
"Don't do anything drastic, Yami! Please!" Anzu cries.
Otogi and I share a look and he shrugs with a wry grin. "Told you. Entertainment. They're acting like you're on your way to throw yourself in front of a train or something."
The other end goes dead silent. Then Yugi asks disbelievingly: "Is that Otogi?"
I internally groan. As if it wasn't bad enough they are upset that I was avoiding them. Now they know I skipped out and spent time with the infamous dice master instead. Anzu and Yugi have already been craving his blood and now this. I mentally prep myself for the explosion.
"In the flesh," the dice master says, leaning toward the phone a bit as I send him a warning glare. "So you guys fall apart when Yami takes a night off?"
Anxious muttering is exchanged between my friends who seem to be muffling their phone while they argue. Something is off. Shouldn't this be where they start exchanging insults with Otogi? A third voice urges them to hurry up from somewhere further away from their phone. A throat clears. Yugi is the one who answers.
"What…So what are you guys doing with the key?"
"Key? Is that code for something?" Otogi asks and I give a small shrug to let him know my friends aren't making any more sense to me right now than to him.
"The Millennium key!" Anzu inputs. "Yami, we've been so worried. First you leave and then Yugi notices the key is missing and we were really…"
"The key is missing? Since when?" I ask, on edge at once. The dice master backs off from the conversation but stays close, listening intently at this new plot twist we didn't see coming.
"We thought you took it…"
"I left the puzzle because I didn't want to have to deal with any drama. Why would I take the key in its place?"
"That's kinda what we were wondering," my hikari says, voice deflated as everything is less urgent and makes a lot less sense. Why was it urgent to begin with? The person in the distance shouts something and I can tell it's Ryou. "We're coming! Wait! Hold on, Yami," Yugi says into the phone before the pounding of sneakers on the pavement follows. A car door slams and the motor growls.
"Sounds like they're off on their own adventure," Otogi mutters, scratching the back of his neck and glancing out the glass front of the entrance. "I could really use a drink."
"Want to fill us in on what you're doing?" I ask into the phone, wondering if anyone is listening to me. "Where are you guys?"
"Just got a cab," Yugi answers as Anzu and Ryou argue in the background. "We're heading back for the high-rise."
" 'Heading back'? Why were you there in the first place?" I ask, motioning for Otogi to hurry up as we stride for the glass front doors.
"Well, we thought you had the key and wanted to find you, so Ryou asked Bakura if we could borrow the ring…"
"Borrow the ring? Yeah, that wouldn't happen in a million years," Otogi scoffs, waving to the limo as it circles from its spot in the parking lot, swerving to the curb where we are standing.
"That's the thing," my hikari says in a trembling voice. "It did. I mean, Bakura made Ryou take it and erased his memory. He only just remembered 'cause Anzu noticed something was off and was asking a lot of questions."
"Which no one has thanked me for!" the girl pipes up.
Otogi and I share a knowing look. This is what the dice master foretold. Bakura is going to do something drastic against himself. He doesn't need the ring to kill himself and it would keep everyone off his back long enough for him to accomplish the task. The world seizes, coming to a sudden halt as I consider it without Bakura.
"How long ago?" I manage to keep my voice steady.
"Long enough," Anzu says, tone softer; I can almost see her looking at Ryou with concern. "And we're a good distance from the apartments now. It's going to take us a bit in the traffic. But Yami, wouldn't Ryou have sensed it? I mean, if Bakura were to…?"
"I really have no idea," I admit as Otogi and I climb into the passenger section of the limo; the dice master yanks the door shut. "We're in Otogi's limousine and we aren't far from the high-rise. We'll get there before you."
"Okay then!...Hey Yami," Yugi says in a quieter voice, obviously trying to keep the others from hearing him. I can picture him huddling over the phone. "If Bakura isn't already…Don't kill each other, all right?"
I roll my eyes.
"I'll keep him on the straight and narrow. Though the 'straight' part may prove difficult for him," the dice master says with a sly grin.
"Don't worry. I won't," I say quickly and hang up, shaking my head at the dice master who is leaning back against the opposite seat with a smug look, the two of us facing one another. "Thank you for that. As if they weren't upset enough, you have to go and provoke them more."
"It's what I do."
Agitated at the waiting, I fumble with the phone in my hands, preparing to call Bakura to talk him out of this madness…except I don't know his number…if he even has a phone, which I seriously doubt. The hell? He wouldn't listen to me. If anything, my discouraging the action would only encourage him to go through with it. It's just…I'm not used to not being able to speak to him when he gets into a shitload of trouble. Usually I'm throwing insults and threats at him, but still. It's probably for the best. I mean, what would I tell him anyway? What does he have worth living for? Malik is gone. And it's only a matter of time before this fling with Jounouchi plays itself out.
"I hope you realize how counterproductive this is," Otogi grumbles, green eyes casting the mini fridge beside him longing looks. Mercifully, he seems to understand there could be danger in this situation even without the addition of alcohol. "Didn't you just come to that moment of clarity where you said you weren't going to keep butting in and getting involved in Bakura's messes?"
"Shut up, Otogi," I snap without looking up from my phone, going through the list of missed calls. All Yugi and Anzu. Oh look, Kaiba's bugging me again too. I didn't think the deal with him regarding Jou beating him would last long. Still, it was a nice respite while it lasted.
"Nice comeback. Seriously Yami, what exactly are you planning on doing?"
"There is Shadow Magic involved," I remind the dice master, glancing out the window as we speed down the side streets.
"And you don't have a Millennium Item."
"My friends have the ring. I can use that."
The dice master scoffs, shaking his head. "Still doesn't answer my question. What the heck are you going to do with it? You guys already established that Bakura brainwashed Ryou or whatever the hell it is he can do so that Ryou would take the ring. At that point the key was already gone. That's the whole reason they wanted to borrow the ring in the first place."
"Your point?" I growl, the teen's incessant questions grating my already frayed nerves. I'm about ready to open a new bottle for him from his stash of beverages for the sake of peace and quiet.
"My point is Bakura doesn't have the ring—doesn't have any Millennium Item. So what exactly do you plan on using the ring for?"
In the whirlwind of my friends' panic and the worst case scenarios that immediately popped into my head, I hadn't stopped to really think this through: Bakura has no Item. For the first time since I've known him, Bakura has given up his power and left himself completely defenseless. That more than anything else is frightening. If he had stolen the key and kept the ring for himself, building up his own arsenal, I would have been aggravated and concerned for everyone else's safety. But it wouldn't have been anything he hadn't done before. This is new.
And it's scaring me.
"The only person he poses any threat to right now is himself," Otogi continues as he sees me pause and begin to panic. "And Ryou and the others are more than capable of wrestling his skinny ass to the ground should he put up a fight. So shouldn't you be focusing your energy on, say, looking for a stolen Millennium Item and let your ex's hikari deal with him?"
"I need to be there."
"Why? What advantage could there possibly be to you…?"
"I need to be there for them, all right?" I cut him off heatedly. If we are too late, which we very likely are, then… "This is what we do, Otogi. We take care of each other. We are there for one another even if the problem is not our own."
"If you say so," he mutters so quietly I almost miss it.
I shoot him an annoyed glare but he isn't looking at me. Instead his eyes are on the buildings and people as they pass by much slower than I would like; the traffic thickening as we go further into downtown. I clutch at the puzzle that isn't there, confused by the dice master's change in attitude. His tone was almost accusing, like he wanted to contradict me. What is that about? Since when does he take any interest in ties of friendship?
"Hey Yami, what was with them being all panicked that you took one of the Items? What the hell were they thinking you were going to do? Blow up a few buildings? Challenge Bakura to a Shadow duel? Plunge the world into eternal darkness?"
"I have no idea," I reply, too overwhelmed with our current crisis to think deeply about what expectations my friends have of me.
He snickers.
"Geez, you leave them unattended for a few hours and they go berserk. Their vote of confidence in you is outstanding."
I stash that away in my mind for a later conversation I will be having with my friends. Anzu and Yugi have been known to blow things out of proportion, but Ryou is usually more level-headed. The fact that he wasn't able to calm them down says something. Of course, having just undergone a memory erasing spell, he may still be in a bit of a haze. And pissed off. If Bakura is still alive, he's in big trouble should his hikari get to him first.
"One more thing…"
"Gods, Otogi, can't you shut up for two seconds?" I groan, setting my elbows on my knees and burying my face in my hands. There's still a long night ahead of us all and I have no idea how I'm going to handle it.
"Where the hell is Katsuya?"
Apparently not.
My eyes open as my foggy brain registers his question. It's a legitimate one. I sit up, looking at the dice master who doesn't appear to be joking around. If anything, he's taking Jounouchi's absence more seriously than the stolen Millennium Item and Bakura's potential suicide. He's right, as usual. Where is Jou? By what our friends have said, it can be deduced that Jou is not at the high-rise with Bakura. And he most definitely is not with Yugi and the others.
"They didn't mention him, did they?" I murmur, running my hand through my bangs.
"If he was with them, we'd have heard him loud and clear," the dice master states, fingers tugging on his earring as he contemplates this; like he does whenever he's mulling over something deeply. Whatever he's thinking, he's not sharing. "So where the hell is he?"
"I'll try calling him," I say, already bringing up his number on my phone as my hands tremble.
"Yeah. Good luck with that," the black-haired teen replies flatly, shifting in his seat with a troubled expression etched into his features. "Damn it, I could really use a drink."
My heads spins as the call takes me straight to voicemail. Sighing, I close the phone. Otogi doesn't need to be told. He's hanging on my every word or making me turn the speakerphone on so he can interject. It is like he was expecting Jou not to answer. He—
"You mentioned earlier that you told Jou about you and Kaiba's scheme," I say slowly, not wanting to go on the offensive like I did earlier; hindsight is a bitch.
"Yeah. Kid was pretty pissed off."
"I can imagine," I say. The dice master looks at me with narrowed eyes. "When was that? Earlier today, right?"
"I didn't do anything to him. He got out of the limo before Kaiba had me dragged to headquarters," the teen grumbles crossing his arms over his chest.
"Where was he going from there?" I prompt.
"How the fuck should I know? Didn't you hear me? He was angry. Not without reason, but that's beside the point." Our eyes lock. "I'm only going to say this once: He didn't tell me what he was going to do next or where he was going. Do you hear me, Yami? I have no idea where Katsuya is."
His face is unwavering as I stare at him for several long moments, hoping he'll let something slip either in word or expression. That would be unlikely, as it is Otogi. Something is clearly bothering him. It would be so much easier if Jou had told Otogi even a little of what he was going to do with the rest of his day. It isn't like Jou to keep us wondering. Did anyone bother to ask the thief before they ran off looking for me? I suppose that point is moot, given that Bakura erased whatever he wanted from Ryou's memory.
Resigned that Otogi is telling the truth, I lean my head back against the seat as he continues to watch me with an expression that is somehow both concerned and affronted; neither fits on his face.
"I was afraid you'd say that."
(Yugi's POV)
"They're nearer than we are, Ryou," Anzu says, trying to sound reassuring. None of us are feeling very optimistic though.
"It's been hours already!" Ryou retorts and she bristles. I shrink down between them on the cab's seat.
"You guys were so collected when we thought it was Yami who was in trouble. You both chastised me, but now that it's your yami suddenly it's perfectly acceptable to panic?"
"It's completely different, Anzu, and you know it!"
I squeeze my arms against my sides in the cramped space, hoping the cabbie is not paying too much attention to my friends. Probably not, given the types of conversations they must hear all the time. Talk of "yamis" and whatnot are probably too out there for them to bother listening. The problems of teenagers wouldn't be high-ranking on the list of conversations they'd take any interest in.
"How?" Anzu demands, rising on the seat with her planted hands so she can look him in the eye over my hair. "We had no idea what frame of mind Yami was in. We thought he was going to hurt himself or was suicidal."
"Have you forgotten Bakura's fragile state of mind? He banished people to the Shadow Realm in the midst of a panic attack. Hell, he tried to kill himself earlier this summer. Not to mention the chances of him relapsing with the heroin!"
Anzu doesn't so much as blink.
"So because his psychological issues are more extreme…"
"Extreme? He jumped in front of a truck!"
"…and that Yami hasn't ever attempted suicide means we shouldn't take the possibility of it as seriously?" the girl asks, an edge to her voice as she baits the trap.
"Guys, shut up," I say quietly, squeezing my eyes closed tight.
It's effective for the moment. They both close their mouths. I can feel the glares being exchanged between them, but they stop talking. I know it won't last, the back of the cab filled with a stifling tension threatening to snap like a frayed thread. We're all uneasy, in a state somewhere suspended between elation, total bewilderment, and a new-budding fear: Yami is apparently safe. He is with Otogi. And Bakura erased Ryou's memories and is out to hurt himself or worse.
Yup. A complete jumble of emotions.
Then there is the whole issue of the Millennium key. Yami didn't take it, which means somebody stole it. That doesn't make any sense. Anyone who didn't know what the Items were wouldn't have taken just one. And anyone who did know what they were would know the futility of stealing them. It doesn't add up. Also, when was the house ever left completely empty? I didn't think there was anybody left who wanted to take the Millennium Items.
'That was stupid of you all to assume,' I chide myself, as I'm sure everyone else is doing as well.
"What exactly will happen?" Ryou asks and we both look at him. He's paler than usual. "To the person who stole the key, I mean. Based on watching Jou, Bakura, Malik and Marik earlier, I figure a person can use an Item if it is willingly given to them. That's why you could use the ring, I gave you permission…or maybe I gave it permission?" He shakes his head, white hair wilder than usual after the incident where I electrified the air. "But what happens with a stolen Item? Can they really use it?"
Anzu and I share a glance. We never happened upon any situation where we could test this. I don't think that rule applies to the hikaris, since Marik, Ryou, and I have all been able to wield our Items' powers—albeit less than expertly—without anything bad happening to us. It must be our connection with our yamis even though we have separate bodies now. The mind link is still present. We can feel each other's emotions on some level. There has to be something there. No one ever really explained it to us. The yamis didn't come with instruction manuals. The knowledge and understanding of our relationships with our darker halves were revealed to us in bits and pieces; some true, some not.
'And we're still learning,' I think resignedly, my confrontation with my darker half still plaguing me.
"I don't know. I'm not sure anybody knows." Rethinking this, I add: "Or if they do, they're not talking."
"God, I'm sick and tired of all the secrets," Anzu moans. "We need to take their Items away, tie them up, and force them to talk it out." Noting our doubtful expressions as well as the raised eyebrows from the driver who casts a quick look at her through the rearview mirror, she adds under her breath, "Or curse and scream it out. Whichever appeals to them."
"I'm not sure the absence of his Item will make any difference in Malik's case. He'll probably lose control either way," I say with a shiver, wishing I could forget what I know about the yami's warped psyche.
"Malik isn't the main problem anyway," Anzu points out. Ryou and I can't argue that.
While we may not be able to agree on who is the main culprit, the three of us all can see clearly that the tension stems from Bakura and Yami. The way they react, or fail to react, to each other makes it clear. There's so much unresolved history there.
"Does Jounouchi even realize?" I ask.
Ryou clears his throat while Anzu grimaces. Yami told me and Anzu. Ryou figured it out and confronted my darker half. But has anyone enlightened Jou? None of us are eager to be a part of that conversation. It really isn't our place to tell him anyhow.
'It won't matter if Bakura is dead.'
Guilt pangs in my chest and I sneak a peek at Ryou to see if he somehow sensed that betraying thought of mine; the small part of me that wanted it to just be done and over with. I don't want anyone hurt and I don't want Jounouchi to suffer, but isn't all of this just going to continue until something definitive makes it stop? Death tends to be rather conclusive like that. Ra, I'm a horrible person for even thinking this! I don't want anybody to die. I just want things to be different, better for everyone. How do we do that?
Sorrowful brown eyes catch mine. I see that my fellow hikari knows exactly what I'm thinking because it has crossed his mind as well. He, even less than I, doesn't want it to be the case. These horrible thoughts won't be of any consequence when it comes down to it. If we're too late then we're too late. My brow furrows as I consider the consequences of the thief's death not only on Jou, but on Yami. All those unresolved issues will remain that way along with a new emotional burden tacked on. It will hurt him immensely.
"Oh come on! The light was yellow!" I exclaim as the cab stops at a traffic light. Getting to the high-rise as quickly as possible has taken on a whole new level of urgency. I really don't want Yami and Otogi to get there first. We haven't even entered the downtown district yet. Ryou leans forward and buries his face in his hands. Anzu sends him a pitying look but doesn't say anything; feeling sorry for him might not alter her feelings on their differing opinions.
"Could we call the high-rise lobby? Have someone check in on him?" I ask, needing to do something.
"Sure. If you want to help me dispose of their gutted body after," Ryou's muffled voice says miserably. "I asked someone to check on him before I left. It seems like they would have called if..." He lets that sentence end unfinished.
"I still can't believe Jou chose that place," Anzu says. "I mean, I get why. It's amazing and everything…"
"And that's no exaggeration," I add. The place is insanely incredible. To say I'm not a bit envious would be a lie.
"…but how exactly is he planning on keeping up with payments? Besides that, doesn't Bakura hate it there?" she asks in a way that is directed at Ryou without being too forward.
Anzu and I both jump as Ryou sits up in a flash, eyes widening as if something has just come through his link with Bakura. Oh no.
"Yugi," he says in a distant voice, staring at nothing with a look that worries me. "Get Yami back on the phone."
The road that I've traveled is all that I know,
paved with each piece of my soul.
And it's taken me far - but left you behind
and I'm longing to see you again
(Bakura's POV)
It's quiet down here; almost in the sense of the eerie silence of the apartment. Anyplace without Katsuya seems muted. The water heater and vents are dead. Everything is still and void of life. The neighborhood as a whole has fallen into this hush. That is something I have always been gifted at; something of which I used to have great pride: Taking lives. Making things die. I excel at it. Always have. Yet for some reason I always fall short when it comes to my own mortality. Pathetic.
Having been forced to face the threat of death from an early age, it rarely unnerved me—transience. Malik would go berserk when I would pull some reckless stunt. Despite the blood on his hands, he always calculated everything carefully. For all the power he was capable of wielding but chose not to, he never forgot he was human. I did not have that luxury, always a demon. I was good at that, too, being a monster.
This body, here in this life—I'm tired. I've only been alive for a year in these times and already I am weary. The past won't leave me be, has sapped me of what little drive I had. It was all about survival back then, a constant struggle in which violence was the necessary reality. The soft-hearted did not last. That was Malik's downfall, his unwillingness to let me go. Hells, he said to my face what was going to happen to me. Knowing all these things and of the betrayals I was going to be hit with, despite all my threats to his life, he remained.
'Only took me a few thousand years and hooking up with Katsuya to chase Malik away for real,' I muse, more depressed than ever as I curl my legs into my body. 'And here I thought Marik would be the cause.'
I miss Malik. No one else fills the void that opened wide when he stormed out. In the past, Pharaoh never replaced Malik. Nor did the sunu. No one did. Katsuya hasn't either. I wonder if Malik feels this loss as well. I'm not the one he is attached to, that he needs by his side almost every waking moment.
We sit in an unusual silence that has not graced us often since our rebirth of sorts. Malik's hikari is a chatterbox. The prick is the type of individual Malik would have cut down with ease if they had met in Egypt. Not this kid. Not now. He's immune. Malik will raise his voice but the brat and I both know he'd never harm his slighter, feminine duplicate. It didn't take long to figure out why. For the reason only the hikari can placate my friend, I am both grateful and despise Marik. He is a comfort to Malik when I am not.
Sitting beside Malik on the cramped balcony I watch his fingers twitch atop his bent knee. The restlessness hasn't settled. If anything it has gotten worse. Dark rings have formed beneath his eyes, replacing the strange folds that pulled at his skin when he was not in control of himself. Malik is always tired but I never catch him sleeping; not that I am faring any better. At least he has someone he is connected to where there is an actual bond; not like me and my skittish light. Ever aware of Malik's tipping emotions, Marik remains close. The white blinds are drawn down on the glass door, the blonde hikari somewhere in the apartment we have been "renting", courtesy of the Millennium rod. Marik has the Item temporarily, Malik seeming to do better without it when he becomes upset. That doesn't bode well for the reason he dragged me out here.
The sky is empty, a blackish blue. The stars are up there somewhere but are invisible thanks to this modern thing called light pollution. Everyone is so afraid of the dark that they make it day even at night. I adjusted while controlling hikari's body. Doesn't mean I like it. It's just another way these modern humans avoid facing their fears.
"I can't stand it here any longer."
I nod, tight-lipped. The motion lets him know I heard him. I have been contemplating what I would do when the time came. Due to my own misgivings, I've been going back and forth between here and hikari's house. The boy is nervous of me at best. Oddly he doesn't seem to hold any grudge. What a pathetic weakling. It works. When I am there, he keeps Pharaoh out.
"Where?" is all I ask, eyes trained on his hand as his fingers fumble and shake; hating Pharaoh—hating myself—for what our combined efforts have reduced Malik to.
"Egypt." His lavender eyes catch my new brown eyes when I look up in disbelief. "Don't gape at me like I just fell into the deep end. That happened ages ago."
It's not often he attempts jokes anymore. Almost all of the smiles are prompted by something Marik says or does. I can't smile. Not after what he just revealed. There's no point in asking why. The reasons behind his decisions are not based on any logic I can figure. Somehow his hikari can make heads or tails of it.
"When?"
"We should be leaving in the next day or so."
It stings deep to my core knowing I am not included in "we" anymore. He doesn't fully realize it even. It was always Malik and I until I ruined everything. Now I am a third wheel, one that seems to be a reminder more than anything else.
I was so powerful. People feared me. I did that. I became someone in this lousy world and he missed it. A small voice somewhere inside of me reminds me that if it weren't for Malik's demise, I might not have reached such heights.
"Bakura," he prompts when I don't reply. "Bakura, there's nothing left here."
"And there is something still in Egypt?"
"You cannot seriously be considering staying in Domino. Pharaoh is here." A shadow falls over his features. "Bakura…"
"I'm not…That's not going to happen again. Ever."
His face remains tight, searching for any sign that I am lying. Does he really believe I would crawl back to that bastard as soon as Malik isn't around to judge me for it?
"Do you consider me that pathetic?"
Malik doesn't so much as blink.
"I don't have a firm understanding of almost anything anymore—you included."
"That wasn't an answer to my question," I point out, thought I am unsure I would want to hear it.
"I warned you repeatedly what would come to pass. Did you listen?" I avert my eyes, glaring wrathfully at my stockinged feet. Malik sighs. "Having my fragmented soul trapped and tormented for three thousand years didn't exactly build a new-found trust in your decision-making, Bakura."
"Then why the hells would you want me along? To babysit me and make sure I stay clear of Pharaoh?" I snarl, shifting to stand.
A hand darts forward, tan fingers clapping tight around my pale wrist. The act itself nearly breaks the joint, pressure mounting, forcing me to remain where I am. I could blast him off or encase him in Shadow Bindings. He has no Item. I do. The ring warms on my chest as a fuming Malik successfully ceases all blood flow to my hand. I'm gathering dark energies before I comprehend what I am preparing to do. And to who.
I will not ever raise a hand against him, much less use magic on him ever again. The energies dissipate inside of the ring. My shoulders slump in surrender. Lavender eyes watch as I settle the matter. He lets go only then, leaving a red ring around my wrist. It isn't the first time this has happened. Magic has been my answer to every problem and opponent since…a long time. Thankfully, Malik and Marik are the only ones I have to practice lenience with; and for Marik only because of what he means to my friend. No one else deserves mercy. No one else will receive any.
"I want you to come because I don't want you alone, Bakura." Malik breaks into my internal conflict, sensing the boiling emotions. "I left you before…"
"I didn't give you a say in that," I cut in, sharp edges forming around my words. "If you tried to stay I would have killed you. I meant it."
"I believed you then and I believe you now."
It's only at his prodding look that I realize I'm doing it again. Cursing under my breath, I quickly lower my hand from where my fingers were searching for the scars on my cheek. Along with my blood red eyes, the mark did not appear with this new body.
"I'm glad it's gone," Malik mutters.
"You never saw it as a scar."
"No. Considering how severe a wound it was, it stands to reason it scarred deeply," he replies in a monotone, not interested in dwelling on it and most definitely not wanting to hear more about it. Good. I don't want to discuss it either.
"You didn't leave me, Malik. Not really," I say softly. "It wasn't your choice."
Neither of us expands upon that. He didn't go far away as I had ordered, remaining close enough that he could help me should the need arise. He knew it was only a matter of time. If he had abandoned me, Malik would not have been captured. He would have lived and died in one lifetime. Can I judge his choice when he was willing to risk everything for me while I was too smitten with Pharaoh and magic to notice or care until it was too late?
This is all wrong. We don't talk about the past. We just don't.
"What's in Egypt, Malik?" I ask, trying to veer us in a different direction that doesn't require reminiscing.
"Desert—something familiar. Somewhere I know how to survive. The Sahara is vast and most if it untamed, unlike here." Malik's teeth are clenched as he sneers at the sky vacant of celestial bodies. "I hate the cities. Marik, unfortunately, prefers them, thanks to the damn tomb keepers locking him up."
"You do realize you are an ancestor of his?" I can't help but smirk.
He rolls his eyes even as the air around him becomes heavier due to the subject matter of their shared lineage. Malik never forgave his clan in the past and, after what their modern counterparts did to his hikari, he isn't likely to start now.
"Well, not a direct descendant, as I didn't procreate. Even so, I think three thousand years puts enough distance between us genetically despite all of their inbreeding."
The sentence breaks off in a snarl and I see my little jest has consequences. His eyes have glazed a bit, staring intensely at something in front of us unseen to everyone but Malik. The ridges begin to rise along the skin of his face. Even without the rod, the aura emanating off of him is palpable. One of the blinds goes flying up and Marik knocks hard on the glass. He sends me a warning look. I glare but back down and nod to him that I got the message. I've learned the hard way that if Marik says Malik is on edge then Malik is truly on edge and to back off. If you don't, very bad things happen. Malik, meanwhile, has broken free of the little 'episode', pretending as if it didn't occur. My friend doesn't look back at his hikari, doesn't need to.
"Sorry. It's his way."
"He's protective of you. What's wrong with that? Despite my intense dislike of him, it's good." Gods, that was hard to swallow. "He's good for you." I scowl when the hikari sticks out his tongue at me. "Do you mind it?"
My friend shrugs, the blinds batting against the window as they fall back into place, Marik deeming it safe to leave me alone with Malik.
"I don't know. I don't think I do…much." My friend leans his back against the sliding door, a pained look flashing across his face. He blinks and it's gone, making me doubt my own eyes.
"You would have minded if I coddled you like your hikari is." –or like how you tried to shield me. "The Malik I knew wouldn't have…"
"That's not me anymore and you know it, Bakura," he states in an even, cold tone. Almost immediately the animosity dies. Lines draw around his features in its stead, making his weariness physically perceptible.
It hurts. It actually hurts to see him this way, knowing I am to blame. Even if I was all right with returning to Egypt, I wouldn't. There is an unsettling truth to what he says. He's not who he used to be—we aren't who we used to be. I'm falling apart at the seams and my friend has decided he is going to take care of me like he used to. What I don't think he fully gets is that he is in no position to be looking after anyone. He's broken. Only time and Marik at this side will show how much he can recover from the spiritual maiming and torture he endured all alone because I was too selfish.
His hand has ceased its twitching, fingers tightening into a fist atop his knee. I need to kill something. Someone. My heart rate increases as I watch the flesh of his hand turn as white as mine from the amount of pressure he's applying. It feels out of place—this wanting to protect someone. For so long it's all been hatred and pain. Betrayal after betrayal drove everything else out. All I wanted, all I needed was revenge. Now I'm stuck here with no Diabound or Kamewati; no one to give me advice and appease my fears.
Fears. Do I even have them anymore? I don't think so. Malik is safe as long as Marik is with him to keep the Shadows from taking hold. Pharaoh is quite content to pretend we were always enemies, ignoring and avoiding the three of us at all cost. I'm mortal again but that doesn't scare me. Immortality is a damnation all its own. My appearance isn't extraordinary anymore, demons never coming up in conversations. I stick to the nighttime, assuring myself it's because of all the stupid humans bustling about during the day.
We are encompassed in that silence again. It's stifling. This isn't to say we talked constantly in the past. There was only so much to say to someone you spent 24/7 with in underground caves, most the size of a small room. It's more that so much has happened to both of us and we have nothing we want to talk about or share.
Mostly, I think neither of us wants to know.
Our own pain is enough. We can't handle the burden of the other's suffering. It's overwhelming just with my own agony, my own guilt and regrets. The hatred is welling up inside of me but there is no one to take it out on that would relieve me. I had my chance at beating Pharaoh and I failed.
I cannot imagine what is going on inside of Malik. We all saw it, Marik clearer than anyone else, the complete lack of emotions. There wasn't really even anger or fury. It was something beyond that. He became a physical manifestation of hatred. I know something about that myself. Mine was a choice. His was a curse. I wilt beside my friend, knowing I am failing him again for not being able to lift that from him. Being the cause is bad enough. Being helpless to do anything for him is worse. Our separate banishments made sure of that.
It still makes me sick that we are stuck with their Items. It couldn't have been two of the more obscure priests. It had to be those two. The decision was immediate, however, not to surrender the Items to Pharaoh. Hells, after what we've been through, we deserve to have magic to simplify things a bit. There aren't any ka anymore.
'Well, not in the same sense.'
Malik leans forward, taking his weight off of the glass before his hikari knocks on it to alert us to his presence that Malik was already aware of. Only once his yami has moved away does Marik slide open the door. Poking his head out, he looks back and forth between us, golden earrings swinging as he does so.
"Dinner just arrived." Marik's hand reaches out and squeezes Malik's shoulder, his mere touch visibly releasing some tension in my friend. "We're gonna have to find some more places to order from, 'cause sooner or later their managers are going to wonder why the take-out guys never have any memory of delivering here. Or money."
"Or you could take control of one or two of the neighbors, let them pay the tab, and then pick up the food," Malik says mildly as he gets up. His hikari's beams, hand sliding off Malik's body.
"Oh! That's even better!"
I grimace. Thankfully, Malik doesn't notice, heading inside without further conversation. Neither of us have had appetites but Marik insists that Malik eat since it is a fairly new body and all. He also alludes to sexual activities to be performed later and the need for stored up energy. I tuned out for the rest of his persuading methods, as they made my skin crawl.
No one asks me to eat. Sometimes I don't. Malik is the only one who would care but half the time he isn't even with us when we're sitting right beside him. His mind goes somewhere else entirely and only Marik can bring him back.
Even so, it isn't Malik. My friend from the past would never use magic to get his way unless in dire, life-threatening circumstances. That's my method. I can use people and torture them with magic. It doesn't bother me. Malik preferred to avoid the usage of Shadow magic and ka when at all possible. Now he and Marik are going out of their way to control people. It isn't about being malicious. Malik simply doesn't care anymore.
The glass door glides shut with a 'click', both the annoying hikari and I still on the outside.
"He asked you."
I turn from my spot on the floor of the tiny balcony where I am unable to even stretch out my legs. Marik stands above me, hands planted on his hips as he gazes down at me. All joking and foolhardy conversation has been set aside. This is the kid who planned on taking down the pharaoh, not the git who wanted to use the rod to shut down an amusement park so he could go on all the rides for free and without the long lines and expensive fees; though these two plans did overlap. He actually thought I—a vengeance spirit possessing a modern human—would want to partake in such foolhardy behavior. Oh the adventures Malik missed while being suppressed by Marik and his stepbrother.
"Don't get all huffy. I'm not going with you."
"Good. Malik can't handle being around you." It stings to hear someone say it and I do my best to not let it show. I must fail, because the hikari adds in a less blunt tone: "It's not forever, thief. Give him time."
A frail chuckle escapes me and I want very much to scream in the boy's face for his foolish notion that any of us will ever be okay. I can't though. He's Malik's lifeline and safe haven. For that, my animosity towards Marik has been taken to a level all its own. He has replaced me and not even of his own accord. I did this. I created this chasm between me and my friend. Marik has filled it.
What does that make me? Where does it leave me in Malik's life?
"We're leaving tomorrow evening. I decided," he adds at my questioning glance. "My sister and stepbrother have a place situated above ground now. Might stop there at some point. We'll see how Malik and them get along. I have a feeling I'm going to be spending a lot of time in the wilderness," the teen sighs, casting a tired look at the door.
"It's what he needs."
"That's what he wants. I'm what he needs," the hikari corrects me less there should be any confusion on that matter. "Anyway, odds are we won't have a phone or any real mode of communication a lot of the time. So unless you plan on flying over and using the ring to track us down…"
"I won't."
He eyes me skeptically, not convinced. We never did get along even before Malik re-emerged from the rod. Trust doesn't get anybody far when it's so easily shattered. All three of us have learned that the hard way.
"Fine. Just try not to get yourself into a mess. Malik can't handle cleaning up after anybody right now."
"What makes you think he would come?" I sneer at this child who cannot fathom what Fate has thrown him into.
Eyes identical to Malik's stare at me with unconcealed aversion. He can't stand something he sees. I try not to dwell on what goes on in his blonde head, given his plans were generally more childish than diabolical.
"For you, he would," he says as he reaches for the handle of the door. "And that's why you're going to stay away from him until he's recovered some. We'll know where to find you," he adds with a mocking sweep of his hand over the unremarkable city which is also inhabited by Pharaoh.
"Found you."
My eyes shoot open in shock at a voice I thought I would never hear again. I wasn't really expecting to hear anyone again. It isn't even that I was going to off myself. It's just…nothing is real anymore. I've been entrapped in another place, another time with Malik. Somewhere sad but safe.
Not wanting to appear as weak and beaten down as I am, I scramble from the ball I'm bowed into, not quite believing my ears. Sitting upright is all I can muster myself to do, shoulders hunched. Standing takes too much energy and I'm still dizzy. The lone figure in the doorway to the cramped room pauses. None of this makes sense and I glare, settling for anger amidst the jumble of emotions.
"How the hells did you get in here?" I rasp.
Katsuya's sister tugs on a piece of fabric on the sleeve of her shirt where a large tear resides; wasn't there when I walked away from her earlier. I can make out a long, defined line of red where something scraped her otherwise unblemished flesh.
"Climbed the fence?"
"…yes."
I scowl at the girl to hide my amazement that such a weakling was able to do that. To go through all the trouble—what could she possibly want from me now? She doesn't move, standing in the doorway with her delicate hands curled into fists, tension reverberating off of her slight frame. Did she come here to make sure I'd never come back? Never come near her brother again? I almost mock the ludicrous idea before reluctantly pointing out to myself that she did manage to punch me in the face and, consequently, render me unconscious. It's not like she knows I have an Item. Keeping the hand holding the eye out of her line of vision, just in case, I straighten up a bit more.
"How did you find this place?"
"It was on the news a while back..."
"Let me rephrase: Go away."
Not surprising, the stubborn brat doesn't budge. Her arms cross over her chest, the meek girl I met at the high-rise is nowhere in sight. Great. A teenage girl on a mission. This does not bode well for me. Why has Katsuya always had a difficult time connecting with his sister? It's not hard at all once she decides to become your very own personal stalker. Aren't I the lucky one?
"The trains to and from the suburbs are done for the night," she says bluntly.
Shit.
I open my mouth to ask her why the hell she came looking for me when I remember she is a bit out of her element. This isn't her hometown and no one she knows is around. Scratch that. No one is around. Except me. Damn it! I'm trapped with her. Again. Why does this keep happening to me? Haven't I been punished enough? Some divinity has it in for me, I swear. As much as I hate this brat, I can't exactly have her wandering off on her own. She's strong-willed but not the craftiest thing. Katsuya wouldn't want her drifting around alone at night. It wouldn't surprise me if some lowlife thugs came crawling over that stupid fence that obviously can't keep anyone out if this kid and I both managed to climb it. The neighborhood's contents are up for grabs. Why isn't there anybody watching this place? I would have thought there'd be some paranormal teams or scientists looking for stuff that isn't here.
"Stupid modern mortals," I growl massaging my temples with my thumb and forefinger.
"I would have gotten back in time if you hadn't gone and passed out."
She might as well have just turned up her nose at me. So the little bitch does have some ice in her veins. From her tone, the formerly chipper child is making it quite clear she would rather not be occupying the same space as me. That I can work with. I'm used to that.
"You wouldn't be here if you hadn't followed me in the first place."
The girl is thrown off because I didn't take the bait and bring up her hitting me. Is she trying to get me pissed off? Bad idea. I tighten my fingers around the golden bulb in my hand. I could throw it and give her a nice bruise, but that would leave me without a Millennium Item. Probably don't have the strength in my arm anyway. She'd just cheat and bite me or something.
"Why are you down here?" she asks, sounding tired and peeved. Quite a lot like Katsuya when he gets fed up with arguing with me. "It's cold and smells mildewy. There are some perfectly good bedrooms upstairs, even if one is missing a door…"
"How do you know that?" I ask. It's a legitimate question since she obviously cannot see anything in this dark.
"I was using my phone as a light."
"And you're not now because…?"
"The battery's dead. All right?" she answers matter-of-factly the way teenage girls say 'You're an idiot'.
Fuck.
"Why the hells didn't you call someone when you had the chance?" I ask. She's lucky there isn't anything down here I could use to dismember her. My pocket knife wouldn't cut through bone. I'm not one to hide bodies, but I could do it. No one would ever know.
I quickly shake off that idea, as tempting as it is.
"I didn't feel like it," she says quietly, chin moving down into a more vulnerable position.
"You didn't feel like calling for someone to get you out of here?"
"I didn't feel like talking to anybody!" The increase in volume surprises me more than her retort itself. "What am I supposed to say? Tell them what you told me? What you did?"
There are tears in her voice. I hate crying. I hate her. This whole situation just sucks.
"If you had called any of the friendship crew, it wouldn't have surprised them," I mutter, not letting on just how much that bothers me.
It isn't that I am ashamed of what I've done. Some of the people I've killed very much deserved what was coming to them. Most of them. Okay, all of them. I don't regret dealing out some justice of my own. I was doing what nobody else would do but what somebody needed to do. What is eating away at me is everyone thinking that I'd do the same to Katsuya. It's expected. From the start they thought so. They don't get it. They don't see. The teen is different. It's different than it was with Pharaoh.
"Is that a bad thing?" she asks on account of my going silent, keeping an edge to her voice. The girl enters the small room, squinting in the dark to no avail. She's peering uselessly at the wall behind me. Her hands have dropped to navigate without tripping.
Okay, I didn't hide that as well as I could have. Scowling, I notice the way she is trembling. I know for a fact that the girl is not scared of me.
'It is damp down here,' I concede, trying to suppress a shiver. In all of my wallowing I didn't notice just how cold I am.
"Go upstairs." It's all I can say to her. Either she will or she won't. Despite my need to be as far away from the brat as possible, I won't send her out by herself. I need time to think.
Alone.
Her fingertips nearly poke me in the eyes as she reaches about blindly. I lean back to avoid them, wondering how she even noticed I was in here in the first place.
"Are you deaf? Go upstairs."
She stills, standings before me, letting her hands fall to her sides. I have to give her credit: coming into a pitch-black room, no one else around, hells, no one knowing either of us is here, and she has been told what I did; what I am. That takes guts.
"I…really can't see anything."
… or sheer stupidity.
(Shizuka's POV)
The yami shifts, sitting on some type of furniture. I can't tell, only that his voice seems to be coming from somewhere higher than if he was seated on the floor but lower than if he were standing. It is unlikely he would be standing at all. He is very ill.
Why would he want to be here? I stumbled through the entire house. There were plenty of nicer rooms than this hole in the ground. They were warmer too. I had been close to giving up and trying my luck at the houses still occupied closer to the station when I found a door that I almost mistook for the kitchen pantry.
After he had walked away, I hurried in the opposite direction back to the subway. I was crying and all I wanted to do was see my brother. The faster I ran and the more I thought about our reunion, the more I dreaded what would inevitably follow: the question. Would I even answer when he asked? Then I realized my brother would get an answer because he would be persistent. That and they are in a relationship. I don't know how I know my brother would be distraught. I saw how he looked at Mai during Battle City. It was a lustful sort of look that boys started giving me after my breasts developed. This is different. This is bigger and something I cannot understand. Like dad and mom, but different somehow. Even though I haven't talked much with Jounouchi about the relationship, it's very real, based on Bakrua's side of things.
And then it wasn't even up to me because the stupid trains don't come out here this late.
"Can you…?" I don't want to ask him for help. I don't want anything from him. He'll call me a baby for not wanting to sit alone up there.
A sigh. Then a faint yellow glow emerges out of nothing and I take a step back in surprise. Bakura is visible in the dim golden light, deep shadows shading his features. The light is so weak that the rest of the room remains a mystery, leaving its size and contents hidden. It's like we are in the middle of nothing. The yami is sitting on a mattress, the illumination stemming from his left hand. I take a step closer and lean in a bit to show him that I'm not going to run away frightened even if I am unnerved that he might have magic. It's some kind of ball he's holding.
"Is that one of the…?"
"Yeah."
I scratch at the cut on my arm, the itch turning into a sting. The Item must have been here at the house. He doesn't have the strength to have gone any further than this basement. I wasn't gone that long either. It would have taken him a while to get over that fence.
"You stole it from Yami?"
Bakura looks up at me with a deadpan stare.
"No. I never handed it over to him. I won this, otherwise I wouldn't be tapping into its powers."
"Why not?"
The look on his face says 'You are a complete moron.'
"Hey, I wasn't really involved in any of this. They didn't tell me much," I say, forcing myself to sink down onto the opposite corner of the foot of the mattress much to his dismay. I'm not happy about this either. This action makes it clear: I am not going anywhere in a hurry. If we're stuck here, I'm not going to cower.
"Did you ever stop to consider that was probably a good thing?"
"At the time, sure it was," I concede, drawing my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my bare shins that are covered in goosebumps. "But everything involving the Items is settled now. So why can't I know? What is that anyway?"
"The Millennium eye," he answers haltingly, almost wary of my reaction. What's the big deal? Was he expecting I'd be weirded out by a fake eye? Maybe girls in ancient Egypt were really squeamish. Though, I kinda am. Better to not let him know.
"Oh," I say, trying to remain as cool and nonchalant as possible, unsure of why he's acting strange. Not enjoying the idea of him ripping that thing from someone's eye socket. "So how does it work?"
"It reads minds."
"That's not fair!" I exclaim, sitting up straight, feet planting on the floor, the first touch of fear stirring within me. "I came here because I've got nowhere else to go and you…!"
"It reads minds only if it has been installed, you little prat!"
I fall back, embarrassed at jumping to conclusions that fast. Thank God he can't read my mind. I don't want him to know how confused I am about all of this. He needs to feel remorseful for what he did. That I felt a little guilty for my quick assumption, he doesn't need to know.
He probably gets that type of reaction all the time, people rushing to conclusions and supposing the worst. It's because they know. They know more than I do as far as his past. Bakura lives in the same area as people who were until quite recently his enemies. Maybe they still are. I bet they give him a hard time whenever something bad happens.
'He deserves it.'
"By 'installed', you mean…?" I make the motion of plucking out my eye and he nods in a single movement. My mouth downturns in disgust and I shudder. "Gross."
"Pretty much."
I cast him a sidelong glance, wanting to be extra sure he isn't going to do something stupid that he will regret. Not that I care. It's just…eew.
"So…you're not going to…?"
"Not interested in the slightest," he replies, his own distaste for this Item audible in his tone.
"Good." He sends me strange look and I smile thinly before I can stop myself. "You wouldn't look good with that thing sticking out of your face."
He snorts. Not a laugh, but it's something. My stomach twists again. I don't usually talk like this to people. The insults and teasing—it's not me. People would describe me as demure and quiet. Polite. Maybe even ditzy. I keep trying to convince myself this is me attempting to be mean to him for what he did to my brother. But I can do better. If I really was trying to hurt the yami, surely I could do better. Why then?
Also, if he has done what he says and is bad as everyone has warned, shouldn't he being doing more? Emboldened by this thought, I decide to push my luck.
"What happened with Honda?"
We stare at one another for an endless moment and I am afraid he'll shut me out. This isn't like my other questions earlier this evening where I pried. This involves more than one person I care about; Jou directly.
"I'm going back to the high-rise eventually," I say when he refuses to speak, brushing my hair over my shoulder to flaunt the confidence I don't have. Mai does that a lot with her hair and I wish very much she was here too. "Should I ask my brother about it?"
Bakura's eyes widen and he winces before quickly trying to cover his reaction with a scowl. It doesn't change anything. I saw it. He'll tell me. Regardless of how it happened: Honda is gone and it has upset my brother badly. Those two are closer to being siblings than Jounouchi and me. They've always been together. I cannot picture it any other way than what Mai said. Is that how it really happened?
"Was it because of what happened before?" My vague question makes him quirk his eyebrow at me. "I mean with you being an enemy and all. The bad history with their group, you know?"
"I'm aware," he says, unimpressed. "The fact that it was me wouldn't have helped."
What does that mean? That wasn't Honda's reason for abandoning his friends? His brother? What else could there be? Mai said Bakura chased Honda away. What else could Bakura have done? I bite my lip hard as I ready myself for another of Bakura's confessions of terrible acts. He must have scared Honda pretty badly in order to run away and leave his friends. Leave my brother. Bakura takes note of my confused apprehension and casts aside any attempts at avoidance or easing into the topic.
"He's a homophobe, kid."
The yami smirks but it's forced. It's like someone who has put some food in their mouth that makes them want to vomit; like my aunt's special beets. You put on an almost painful smile while pushing the food around with your tongue, trying to find a place in your mouth where taste buds do not thrive.
"I…what?"
My mind is buzzing but his words aren't matching up with things I have categorized and labeled as 'truths' in my brain. I shake my head, unable to make sense of it.
"Hiroto. He hates anyone who isn't heterosexual." His eyes glitter dangerously in the pale yellow radiance. "Doesn't seem to matter much who it is."
The color drains from my face, though it probably isn't perceptible even to Bakura's sharp eyes in this dim light. Honda wouldn't…Not to Jounouchi. Those two are inseparable! They've risked their lives for each other. You don't turn your back on someone who means that much to you.
"Honda wouldn't up and leave just because my brother is gay!"
"Don't believe me if you don't want to, but that's what he did," Bakura sneers. "Ran out of here fast, or so Katsuya said. He hasn't heard from the bastard since."
Tears escape my eyes now and I glare at the yami. He's got to be enjoying this. He just wants to upset me. How could he say such horrible things? Jou and Honda don't deserve it.
"And for the record, despite what the bitch told you, I never saw Hiroto. I was a bit preoccupied with being unconscious from a run-in with a truck."
"You're lying."
The accusation is barely a whisper.
"Why would I lie? What could I possibly achieve now? To make myself look better? I think we can both agree with that being a pointless endeavor. Plus I could care less what you of all people think of me." I bite down on my tongue hard enough that the copper taste of blood fills my mouth. Bakura takes my silence as fuming and adds quieter: "Believe what you want. Just don't drag Katsuya into it again."
'He's covering his tracks so you won't ask Jou questions. So you won't find out that Bakura really did chase off Honda!'
But what would be the point of that? If Bakura is planning on staying away, then, if Mai's rendition of events is true, Honda will come back. Honda will come back because Bakura is gone and no longer a threat to him.
'This is what Bakura does. He manipulates people. He's evil. That's what everybody says. That's what Bakura himself has claimed. At least they all can agree on that. Causing chasms in a friendship is a small bit of what he is capable of doing.'
Despite this argument, despite all the arguments my brain can conjure, there is something at the core of it all that makes me believe the thief as much as I don't want to: If Honda felt Jou was in any danger, nothing would get him to abandon him. Nothing. Especially if the danger was the cause. How many times that I don't even know about has the group risked their lives and souls for each other despite most of them possessing no magic?
It's just…to have it be something so trivial as the gender of who my brother wants to date…If it had been that Bakura had tried to kill them multiple times, that I could understand. If it had been that Bakura had vowed not to give up his murdering, banishing ways, I could see Honda giving a sort of ultimatum for everyone's safety. Honda's always been preemptive when sensing danger to people he cares about.
I'm beginning to believe Bakura because even though it doesn't make sense, it makes sense. It's the only explanation that has any kind of logic to it even though the action itself was completely irrational.
In the midst of my inner turmoil I nearly miss the anger vibrating in Bakura's voice. There it is again: that protectiveness he has for my brother. If Honda were here now there is no doubt in my mind that Bakura would attempt to thrash him for his treatment of Jou. That's all the reason Bakura appears to need. Even with tears welling up in my eyes at this treachery from Honda, I stare at the fuming yami beside me who is currently not paying attention to me, engrossed in plots involving dismemberment and banishment to the Shadow Realm.
I don't understand him.
Needing very much to break this chilling atmosphere and to get away from the physical cold, I ask in a small voice: "Can we go upstairs now?"
"Will you shut up if we do?" he surprises me by answering at all.
"It's worth a try," I say, fighting to keep from smiling at the banter that comes easily while wiping at the tears with the back of my hand.
He exhales loudly to let me know I am a burden and an irritation, but he braces his arms and slowly stands. I move against the wall and we both still. Neither of us wants to have the other behind them. The lack of trust is logical. Never turn your back on someone who is capable of hurting you. Bakura quickly bores of this and decides to make a statement of how unthreatening I am. With an annoyed sound in his throat, he shoves past me and trudges out of the room. As I follow I see him hesitate just for a moment at the foot of the stairs, gathering his energy for the climb. Thin fingers curl around the railing, his left hand grips around the glowing Millennium Item at his side. The stairs creak and groan beneath our weight as we ascend. Slowly.
I don't want to talk about Honda anymore. It is something I will have to think deeply on and deny repeatedly before I even consider accepting it. I make a mental note to ask someone else from the group about it; anyone other than my brother. Honda left and Jounouchi shouldn't have to be reminded of it when it is no doubt already eating away at him.
"So how can you use its powers if you haven't…fitted it?" I blurt out, following two steps behind, using space and change of subject as boundaries. "I thought with the Items you had to be wearing them."
"They're not all wearable. I can use it because I won it. Gods, why am I even talking to you?"
"Because you chose to be down here and I can run faster than you." He glowers over his shoulder at me and my smile disappears. "So that's why you guys dueled in Battle City? It wasn't just about the god cards? Are you saying you had to win a game in order to take Yami's Millennium Item?"
"Sadly, yes," he says in a disappointed tone, his hand reaching out and grabbing the doorknob tightly. "It wasn't so pathetic in the past when the monsters were real and it was less of a competition and more of a battle to the death."
"Sounds fun," I mumble as he braces against the door to get it to open.
"It could be at times," he defends, trying to pass off as being indifferent even though I can tell he's reminiscing about some fights he obviously enjoyed. He is an ancient murderer. I wasn't expecting anything less.
"Well it's a stupid rule," I sniff, following him out of the damp of the basement and into the kitchen. The temperature change is noticeable given that there isn't any type of air flow through the house.
"I didn't make the rules," he snaps, annoyed that I would think he would go along with it if he wasn't forced to.
"You seem like a rule-breaker to me," I muse, twiddling my thumbs, letting him lead the way through the kitchen towards the front of the house. "Did you ever try?"
We enter the living room and Bakura heads straight for the couch. The thief sinks down on it with a shaky breath. His eyes lock on the golden ball in his hand, seeming to have forgotten I'm even here. He stares at it in a disconcerting way. Too intense. Needing him to acknowledge me, prove that he's still here in the room with me, I add on to my question.
"What's the worst that could have happened?"
He blinks, features grim and lacking the enjoyment from his earlier recollections.
"Plenty."
Bakura refuses to elaborate, leading us into another drawn out silence. I stare hard at his silhouette from the chair I stumbled upon, pretending I can see him and the house around us with perfect clarity. It's easy for him to evade when he can hide in the shadows. I think that's how he's used to living—hiding. Isn't that how it worked in Battle City? He masqueraded as Ryou, not facing anyone head-on until he was good and ready. Well I don't care much if he's ready or not.
"You need to come back with me, Bakura."
He starts, dark contemplations interrupted by my declaration.
"Where the hells did that come from?"
"I'm not stupid," I say in case there should be any confusion. "You hurt my brother and you're capable of stuff even worse than what you did."
"And what part of this has caused you to develop a resolve to invite me back with you? You can't seriously think me and him will work."
"No. I don't." His features tighten when I say it aloud. I'm not here to sugarcoat things for Bakura. I'm here for my brother. "I don't know if Jou would have stayed with you if he thought for a second he could get Honda back by leaving you."
Bakura releases a bitter chuckle that makes the room's temperature seem more like the basement's.
"Leaving me wouldn't make him straight. Hiroto knows that. Besides, Katsuya doesn't rationalize well when it comes to people he cares about. My coming back will only complicate things. Your brother doesn't exactly have the best track record when it comes to abusive relationships. And you have no right to be his spokesperson."
"Someone has to be. You ran away, so it can't be you. I haven't been there for him. There are a lot of things I messed up," I admit, voice wavering as I accept what's my fault. "I can't forgive what you did, but I can tell you…like him." 'Love' isn't the right word. Not for this. "He's going to return to the high-rise and you'll be gone. Do you think that will hurt him as much as I think it will?"
Sharp eyes avert from mine, looking past me toward the other side of the room where there seems to be some type of hole in the wall. A fireplace, maybe. It's darker than the rest of the room. Anger stirs in my abdomen when he doesn't say anything. I am not letting him run away from this.
"My brother deserves better than that," I state, knowing he agrees with that much. "He cares about you. So you need to come back and explain things to him. He can do better than you. He'll find somebody who won't ever think of hurting him." I have to stop for a moment and breathe, my emotions having begun to leak through. Bakura waits wordlessly, allowing me to speak my mind, submitting to these facts. "But he should at least get the chance to say goodbye. On his terms. You owe him that."
He bows his head and I know I've won this round. Actually getting back to the high-rise is going to be another battle. Every move back towards my brother is going to put Bakura into fight-or-flight mode.
What I don't mention is the even bigger reason I want him to come back to say goodbye: I don't want to have to be the one to tell Jounouchi that Bakura is gone. I wouldn't know what to do, how he would react. Where would I even begin? I don't know my brother. How could I make it better? I'd be standing right in front of him, but I wouldn't be the one he'd want to see. That would hurt. I don't want to hurt that badly. It's enough that I have to try to rebuild a relationship with my brother. He won't blame me for any of it. If Bakura is there, Jounouchi will choose me. If he's not, then my brother will be focused entirely on finding out Bakura's whereabouts. I can't be second to the yami who has done such despicable things.
"So you'll come?"
Bakura stiffens before lifting his head like a fox listening intently. He closes his eyes to focus on something that is out of sight; kind of like my mom does with her meditations. A humorless smile forms on the edges of his mouth as his body relaxes in a sort of surrender.
"Doesn't seem I have a choice."
I yelp as the front door flies open, the knob crashing into the wall. Bakura opens his eyes and turns his head lazily, not surprised in the slightest. Meanwhile, I'm standing on my chair. Three figures hurry in and I hastily sink into the cushion. The one in the lead is wearing a glowing Millennium Item on his chest.
"Bakura, you are in for-!"
Ryou's voice cuts off, he and Yugi and Anzu halting abruptly when they spot me in the light of their Item. Their eyes bug as they gape, unable to make heads or tails of my presence. I stare back, considering how this is to be explained. Causing trouble by tattling on Bakura could make him decide not to cooperate. Quickly I sit up, smoothening out my wrinkled shorts and placing my hands on my knees as if we'd just been sitting here having a polite conversation. Not exactly a lie.
"Well? Is he there?" a voice rasps. Judging from the deeper tone, I'm guessing Yami.
"I…I…Yes. He's here," Anzu says in a daze, holding a phone at shoulder-height while never taking her eyes off me. "And…they're here."
"They?" a second disembodied voice asks. Otogi. "Katsuya's with him?"
Bakura and Ryou are staring each other down. Ryou looks as if he is trying to make his yami's head explode. Bakura has settled for a more pensive expression. I keep silent, worrying that I may be about to witness a Shadow fight up close. Anzu looks back and forth between me and them nervously, not wanting to get caught in the crosshairs either.
"Um…no. Not Jou, anyway."
(Ryou's POV)
((Bakura, what the hell?!)) I scream in our mind link when my brain won't allow me to finish it out loud.
(I see you've recovered from Mind Erase) he muses in an easy tone that makes me want to throttle him. (And decided to use the ring to locate Pharaoh when all this time he was on the phone. Congratulations hikari.)
It doesn't escape me amidst my fury that three of the ring's pointers are directed at my yami. In my blind rage and shock I almost missed the hazy glow coming from his hand placed at his side. So he took the key after all. I close the space between us and roughly grab him by the wrist, twisting it while bringing his hand up to my face so I can see. He jerks violently when he realizes what I'm doing, pulling his arm back down by his side.
"Not a good idea, hikari."
My tongue lodges in my throat when he voluntarily holds up his hand out in front of himself a safe distance from his own face. The Millennium eye. Among everything else that has happened in the past hour, I find myself sitting down on the couch before I lose my balance at the realization of how close I just came to implanting the Millennium eye in my head. There are only two possible outcomes for that, neither of which I am eager to experience.
"Where'd you get that? Where'd he get that?" Anzu squeaks, fear growing as her pitch rises.
"Guys, what's going on?" Yami asks sharply, agitated at the lack of information being relayed and the fact that he and Otogi are on the other side of Domino. "Is everyone all right?"
Bakura keeps his eyes trained on me, waiting to see what I will do next. My original intention when I found him was to pummel him, avoiding his head, but pummel him. Maybe with that iron poker I used on Jou before. Everything was like I said: He erased my memories and gave me the ring, packed what little possessions he had, and came to the most familiar place; his comfort zone.
Except it hasn't turned out that way. First, he should be in the basement. That's his space. Then there's the fact that, while he did give me the ring, he has the Millennium eye. So he's not wasting away and curled up in agony at not having an Item to help with his physical ailments. I don't see any needles around and his shirt sleeves are down. He's alert and lucid; not high. So he hasn't gone back to the heroin. He's very much alive. If he was going to commit suicide, it seems like he would have already. Then there's Jounouchi's sister who is sitting in the dark living room with him in the middle of the deserted neighborhood.
"What do you mean Shizuka's there?" Otogi's yelp of horrified dismay brings me out of my internal strife.
"What do you think I mean?" Anzu retorts; her loathing for the dice master snapping her out of her shock.
"I think what Otogi is trying to ask is: Is she all right?" Yami asks in what is a worthy attempt at a calm voice.
"Well yeah, and then there's: Why the hell is she with him?" the dice master puts in from somewhere in the background.
"Maybe I could find out if you would shut up, Otogi!" Anzu shouts into the device. She turns to the girl. "Shizuka…"
"I'm fine," Jou's sister says with a wince of a smile. "I'd be even better if everybody would stop yelling."
"I second that," my yami grumbles pressing his palm to his forehead.
Letting her and Anzu handle Yami and Otogi's incessant questions, I return my focus to my darker half. Amazingly, he is the one who has remained the most level-headed. He didn't look the least bit surprised when we barged in. Probably sensed me and the ring. Stupid link.
"What is she doing here, yami?"
"Well obviously the trains don't run this late," he says while resting his elbow on the arm of the sofa in a lazy fashion. This earns a short sound from Shizuka that almost sounds like a muffled laugh. When I glance over at her she is wearing an angelic mien.
"Obviously," Anzu mutters from behind us, hissing at the dice master when he begins to interject again.
"Sooo…" Yugi shifts his weight from one foot to the other while sharing a dubious look with me. "What are you guys doing here?"
"I wanted to see Jounouchi, so I stopped by again after…But he wasn't back yet," Shizuka says while looking directly at my yami as if in confirmation. "Bakura wanted to come here to get the eye…"
"Well I needed an Item because some annoying people decided they should borrow mine," my darker half grumbles, earning him a hard kick to the shin. "Fuck, hikari!"
"You made me take it and erased my memory!" I snarl this already common knowledge, holding back from inflicting any more physical harm as much as I want to.
"Something else that needs to be addressed," Yami's low voice takes on a dangerous edge. Why must he always try to take charge when something involves Bakura and me?
"I'm handling this, Yami!" I snap, turning my head toward the phone. Anzu withers at my glare that is focused in her general direction.
"Anyway," Shizuka cuts in with a far too bubbly air. "He wasn't looking so good, so I decided to come with him and make sure he didn't pass out."
Anzu coughs, looking at me incredulously. Silently agreeing with her skepticism, I turn back to my yami. I have to give him and the girl credit, their expressions haven't wavered in the slightest.
"And you just…let her tag along?"
"What do you think, hikari?" he says with a sneer.
It figures. Shizuka is safe because she's Jou's sister. That grants her some type of immunity that he does not bestow even to the other half of his soul. He probably would have erased her mind as well and sent her home except that he had already sent me off with the Item. He directs a pointed look at the girl who beams in response.
There is some divine justice.
"And then the trains were done for the night," Yugi finishes their tale in a deflated voice.
"Exactly," Shizuka smiles and nods at him.
"If that creep has touched her…" the dice master rants.
"He's one to talk," my yami grumbles and this time Anzu is the one who has to smother a laugh.
"Otogi, just sit down already," Yami says before becoming louder as he gets closer to their phone. "Okay guys…uh…so far so good. Everyone's safe. Why don't you come on back to the high-rise…"
"Why the hells is Pharaoh at the apartment? Who let him in there?" my yami demands, directing his glare at me. Yes, somehow everything has become my fault.
"You hate the apartment, yami."
"Doesn't change the fact that he's not welcome there!"
"We were looking for you, tomb robber," Yami cuts in with a tone reserved for reprimands. "Since you ran off without telling anyone where you were going…"
"Wouldn't have been necessary if you hadn't done the same thing," my darker half shoots back. "Your little friends wouldn't have needed the ring in the first place!"
"He has a point, Yami," Yugi points out, switching sides, still offended for the way his darker half treated him earlier.
"Aibou!"
"Well he does!"
"Okay enough! We're coming back to the high-rise, so just stay there," I say before shooting my yami a stern look, daring him to contradict me. Anzu mercifully closes her pink phone before any more arguments can begin, tired of the angry looks that keep being sent towards her due to the dice master and former pharaoh's outbursts.
"Yami and Otogi could go home," Shizuka suggests and all eyes move to the girl. "I just mean that it's really late and you're taking us back. So there's really no need for them to stay."
"The Millennium key is still missing," Yugi updates them on this; though Shizuka probably didn't know about that in the first place. "Turns out Yami doesn't have it."
Bakura rolls his eyes and I am close enough to hear him mutter under his breath, "Guardian of the Items, my ass."
((We need to find it, yami. Somebody is running around with the key. If they know how to use it…))
(Then they'll probably destroy themselves in the process. Problem solved.)
((No it's not solv—wait. What?))
"As amusing as Pharaoh's inability to keep track of his possessions is," my yami says while rising up from the couch. "Where is Katsuya?"
Anzu, Yugi and I share uncomfortable looks that do not go unnoticed. A small sound comes from Shizuka as she quickly stands with her hands clasped together, fawn eyes wide. Bakura's mouth sets in a deep frown, the muscles of his jaw clenching.
"We were hoping he might be with you," Anzu says, which is true even though we knew the unlikeliness of it.
"No one has seen him? He didn't come home?" Shizuka asks, becoming less the actress and more the young girl that she is.
"He hasn't called any of us. I can try the Game Shop again and see if Mr. Mutou has heard from him," Anzu proposes half-heartedly, all of us knowing the futility of it.
"Thanks Anzu," I mumble and she opens her phone again; Yugi stands at her side somberly.
Bakura isn't looking at anyone, unfocused eyes staring in the direction of the fireplace where there are stains in the carpet that neither he nor Jou ever volunteered to explain. After finding out some of the happenings while I was away, I opted for remaining uninformed. The energies and emotions coming from him are nothing I've ever sensed or associated with him before.
(Bakura?)
He snaps out of his brooding, turning to me with dark eyes filled with worry. There is a fierceness in them. Whatever the cause of Jounouchi's absence, he is already thirsting to wreak vengeance upon it.
"Who saw him last?" he asks, low and ominous. Yugi and I share knowing looks, fearing for the dice master's safety while also wanting answers from him.
"Otogi."
"Then let's go."
He's torn between his honor and the true love of his life
He prayed for both but was denied
(Yami's POV)
Fidgeting, I place the papyrus on the table that is the resting place for the Millennium puzzle when it is not on my person—which is basically never now. My eyes stray over the drawings, not making sense of the measurements and calculations written in the margins by Mahaado's skillful hand. All I see are the rooms and walls and everything as it will be. Deals are already being made with our foreign relations to trade for materials to make it the most spectacular building in Egypt. All of the curiosity and gossip about it have been overshadowed by Seth's death and the phantom.
Swallowing, I wrap my arms about my rib cage and back away until the heavy curtain that shields me from the balcony and night cold brushes against my bare shoulder blades. The people are on alert through day and night. The city no longer can afford to sleep. It is on the hunt, not willing to wait around for the phantom to re-emerge. They carry torches, smearing honey on their children and laying cut onions strategically. The argument has already been made by some that this will not deter this particular demon, as he is not of the undead. Many of the priests have been delving deep into the scriptures, looking for clues as to whether phantoms are subordinates of a more powerful deity, as with other entities. They are rare, fact and fiction blurring in all of the accounts of them. Or perhaps they are all true. It could be, as Bakura is not one of those creatures.
A chill runs up my spine and I leap away from the curtain as it brushes against the middle of my back. Heart racing, I tap into the puzzle while tearing the fabric back to reveal the shadowy figure crouched, waiting for me. Even as I recoil it is gone, leaving nothing but the empty balcony. Sweat beading my skin, I take a cautious step forward, puzzle glowing, expecting to find the ex-tomb keeper hiding in the shadows. He's haunting me. I am certain of it.
"Just leave me alone," I whisper, not daring to speak his name when I am by myself.
A knock on the door to my chambers has me eager to remove myself from the cold. I shrug the curtain aside, grateful to whoever decided to bother me so early.
"My Pharaoh?"
"You may enter, Mahaado. I am awake," I say before realizing I'm wearing only a linen wrap around my waist.
He inclines as he enters, the pointers of the ring clattering against each other as they are suspended in midair before falling back onto his chest as he rises. He looks beaten, face wan, heavy circles beneath his eyes. He had some time to change yesterday from what he was wearing the night of the attack, but his clothes have since become wrinkled. Harried and disheveled, he stands before me, looking around the room with sharp eyes as he closes the door silently behind him.
"Where is he?"
"Who?" I ask dumbly to which he gives me a piercing glance. "Oh. He…" What did Bakura lie to me and say? "He went to see Seini."
"No he didn't. I just came from talking with Seini who told me that he was with you in the temple of Khonsu only an hour ago. Where is Bakura, Pharaoh? He isn't out there?" he demands, pointing towards the billowing curtain to my distressed city beyond.
"He's keeping out of sight," I say carefully, knowing I am not the best liar and that what I am saying technically isn't an untruth. Best to evade. "Has something happened?"
Bakura, if you've done something stupid…
"But he is in the palace?" Mahaado presses, less one to trust anything regarding my lover.
"Bakura's rashness as of late is not our only problem," I remind the priest who is staring at me with an intensity that sets my nerves on end. "I told you I would handle talking with Bakura."
"Then where is he? Talking has not tamed him yet. What will…?" His gaze strays past me to the table with his sketches and diagrams. Mouth tight, edges downturning, he sighs through his nose. "It won't work, Pharaoh."
"Then let me be the one to handle the situation if need be," I reply even as my stomach churns at the notion he might possibly be correct.
No. He isn't. Mahaado has always had exaggerated imaginings when it comes to Bakura. My priest expects the worst always from my fair-skinned lover. Not that Bakura sees my friend in a better light. I cannot help that their wills clash. Gods, I'm doing it again—keeping information from Mahaado just like I did in regards to Bakura's…occupation.
"He clouds your judgment, highness."
"Seini has taught him heka, not illusions or spell casting…"
"Which is what all magic outside of the Items themselves stem from…"
I hold up my hand before he can inquire how specific my 'interrogation' of Seini was. Mahaado would be severely disappointed in me. Hells, I am disappointed in me. It was the news that Bakura had run off again. That shook me. There is something else as well.
"I have an assignment for you."
"The building has been delayed indefinitely and will remain so until the people are safe," Mahaado defends the lack of progress in his project.
"I wasn't talking about that, if you would be so respectful as to stop interrupting me."
My tone betrays my agitation but he stills. It isn't in reverence though; it's like he's poised for Bakura to jump out and attack. It makes me all the gladder that my lover would avoid seeking out Mahaado. They have made a habit of steering clear of each other when at all possible. I freely admit to myself that I am frightened for what would happen to Bakura if they were to enrage each other in my absence.
Shaking myself from this terrible thought, I realize Mahaado is waiting for me to speak after I not so subtly told him to shut up and listen. I reveal to him what I would have asked Seini if the sunu had not angered me so.
"I keep having these…these dreams." A shudder creeps through my center. "I'm on my hands and knees staring at the ground. My hands are painted red. Nearby, there are horrible screams coming from a hole in the ground. A well." Mahaado raises his brows and I add: "I know the well is a prison or imprisonment."
I recognized the screams that were identical to the ones that came from Malik during the sealing. Mahaado doesn't need to tell me about the red; the color itself a bad omen. That it appears as bloodstains, a sight that makes my own blood curdle, is of greater consequence.
"It's Malik, Mahaado. I see…he haunts me. Every time I close my eyes he is there waiting for me. Even when I'm awake, he's around every corner, hiding in every shadow. "
Ever the reasonable one, Mahaado says calmly, "It is common to have dreams of looking at the ground when the dead are displeased with us…"
"But Malik isn't dead!" I cry, voice rising close to hysteria.
Mahaado grimaces, informing me that he is about to say something neither of us will like.
"Then are you certain it is Malik that the dreams are alluding to?"
"Who else would be…?"
My mouth loses all moisture, throat parched as it dawns on me in one fell swoop; a falcon diving down and slaying its prey. All of the people whose tombs were desecrated by Bakura and Malik…My own father and all my ancestors know what I've done. What I've failed to do for my people, our people. They want justice. They are demanding it from me. It is my duty. Swallowing, I force myself to meet Mahaado's eyes. They hold a trace of pity, seeing the turmoil I am in, but he offers no comfort.
"Seini is the medicinal head. He would have better answers than I…"
"I am not interested in any more assistance from Seini for the time being," I snap. He drops the suggestion without argument, most definitely not pleased with the sunu's actions either.
Exhausted, I sink onto the edge of the bed, hands shaking in my lap.
"What was it you would have me do then? The new assignment?" he asks wearily, understanding that the matter of my dreams and all interpretations is closed.
My eyes dart to the hidden door at the opposite end of my chambers. Aside from Malik's specter, there is one person I fear of eavesdropping on this conversation. I find myself actually hoping Seini was correct in at least Bakura is not nearby. It may be all for naught if the dreams mean what Mahaado suggested. Still, I want this done. If anything, it will help prove things one way or another. It may not even work since Malik is not dead. Knowing no elaboration is needed, I turn back to Mahaado who is watching me steadily.
"Bury it. Immediately."
Nice long chappie.
As a reference note: signs used and meanings behind them for Atem's dream were taken from texts from an Ancient Egyptian Dream Book. Had fun with that.
Would love some reviewsies. I apologize for the long, unplanned wait for this chapter. Enjoyed having Malik and Marik in there, even if Malik is tormented and broken. Marik is always a breath of fresh air. ^_^
