I'm dedicating this chapter to those of you in the healthcare field or who have loved ones who are. I cannot thank you all enough as we watch the Covid-19 cases rise again. Thank you for all you do, for holding up our sky.
Lyrics from Sara Bareilles' "Orpheus" and Fleurie's "Hymn".
I know you miss the world, the one you knew
The one where everything made sense
Because you didn't know the truth, that's how it works
'Til the bottom drops out and you learn
We're all just hunters seeking solid ground
Chapter 61: Holding Up the Sky
(Jounouchi's POV)
"How're you feelin' about tomorrow?" I ask, closing the door to our own little space.
Mr. B is asleep on the couch with his papers spread all around him. Poor guy is worn out trying to make sure we're fine and Ryou's fine and get everything right with his colleagues. I keep trying to convince him we're good here and don't need to be at the house right now but he's also decided to push for answers on when we can move back there as well. Hopefully he'll just sleep through the night and not wake up with a sore neck tomorrow.
Baku's sitting on the edge of the bed tugging off his left sock. He sends me an irritated look from beneath his bangs.
"If you ask me about tomorrow one more time…"
"I'm not tryin' to be obnoxious. I just…is it too soon?"
"Too soon to give me half a day of peace and quiet? No. Definitely not." He narrows his eyes. "Is this some coded questioning where you want me to come because you're afraid of seeing your friends again?"
"No," I retort. In all honesty, that part will be easier without Baku there. "Ryou…"
"Hikari and I will have plenty of time to get on each other's nerves when he joins us here. Why kickstart that now?" he asks, tossing both of his socks towards the laundry basket in the corner.
One makes it, the other doesn't. I don't put up a fuss because at least this time he actually tried to put them there instead of just throwing them on the floor. It's been a treat domesticating him this summer. Wandering over, I pick up the sock from the carpet and drop it into the basket. Baku doesn't notice or pretends not to, in the process of pulling his shirt off over his head.
I stare at his bare chest, bruises from the Shadow Realm showdown still visible around the Millennium ring. My face flushes the more I pay attention to each detail of his body. Injuries from the fight aside, this is the healthiest he's been since he and I…since he and I.
"What the f-?"
He topples backwards as I land on him, mouth attacking his. For an instant there's tension. The last time I kissed him, touched him like this, I was possessed. It makes me sick to my stomach what could have happened in the Shadow Realm, what he would have let me do in order not to hurt me.
I cup the back of his head and the kiss deepens. It's been too long. I've missed this. Missed the heat and passion. I pull away with a gasp. Sitting astride him, I quickly tug my shirt off and throw it away.
The room warms as we continue this exploration of each other, rolling this way then that while using our hands and mouths as our bodies become reacquainted. The rest of our clothes join my shirt; none of them even close to the laundry basket. His skin is as smooth as I remember. Something has changed though. His touch is gentle, as if I would break apart in his hands. I realize though the haze of lust that I'm being overly cautious too, leaving kisses instead of bites, not holding onto his him as tightly as I used to for fear of leaving a mark.
I stop, pressing my hand to his chest as we stare at each other breathlessly, both of us flushed and panting. The Millennium ring's weight against my fingers helps me focus on something other than his body. I lick my lips in anticipation, all the while wondering if I'm about to wreck everything by opening my big mouth.
"Take me?" I whisper and his breath hitches.
The fear manifests in his features. I push forward so our hips are pressed together, rocking against him. We both moan at the wonderful sensations that brings.
"Please?" I whimper, nuzzling my nose against his. "You won't hurt me, Baku."
"I…" He starts to pull away.
I grab his arms and yank him on top of me, spreading my thighs beneath him. All the while holding him, I speak firmly to help him banish any misgivings while looking him straight in the eye.
"You. Won't. Hurt . Me."
It was only that one time; well, multiple times one time. But after that he never dared. For a while it was because he needed someone else in control, needed me proving to him how much I cared. And then…fear. Fear of fucking everything up. Fear of becoming who he was.
"Please," I whisper, cupping his clenched jaw in my hand. "Baku, please?"
Bakura pulls back and I want to scream in frustration. He leans over the side of the bed and is back with the petroleum jelly we've put on our less serious injuries. My heartbeat speeds up as he spreads a generous amount over his fingers. While never breaking eye contact with me, his fingers travel slowly down my body. Beneath me. Inside me. I gasp as he prepares me. We gaze at one another; him to carefully watch for any signs of pain from me; me to let him see what he's doing, how amazing it feels. The anticipation is killing me but I don't try to rush him, knowing how much it will hurt if he does. My eyelids flutter as he touches that bundle of nerves that sends a delicious shiver through my body.
Then his fingers are gone. His weight is added atop of me. He's inside of me. I arch my back off the bed as he goes deeper, as my body stretches to accommodate him. He takes me slowly, giving me time to adjust. I wrap my legs around him and cry out as he hits that spot that makes me see stars. This time he's not afraid, able to feel and see the pleasure building in me. He plunges deeper, faster. I grab onto him with frantic hands as he kisses me again. My fingers dig into his scalp. His hips. His shoulders. I can't stay still or coherent with what I'm doing. I don't try to, surrendering to whatever he wants to do to me.
It's quieter than before. The bed creaks softly. Our breaths gasp in unison with our movements. The slap of flesh every time we reconnect.
That familiar pressure is building, reaching the breaking point. I whimper at how close I am. His hand slips between our sweaty bodies to stroke me and I cry out again, releasing onto our stomachs as his movements become urgent. He tenses as I constrict around him. Warmth floods inside of me as he groans into my shoulder. One of my arms is over his back, the other hand buried in his hair as we both shudder and wait to catch our breaths.
When he raises his head his body stiffens in distress. I don't understand why until he's wiping away tears from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. When he speaks he's trying to sound accusing but it just comes out scared. He untangles our limbs, climbing off me.
"You said…"
"You didn't hurt me," I assure him with a smile and stretch my arms above my head. "Just a bit overwhelming. I've wanted you to do that for forever."
He tries to believe me but is highly mistrustful of himself. Growling, I grab him and pull him down beside me, tucking myself comfortably under his chin. His arms envelope me, fingers skimming along my shoulder.
"Thank you for believing me, for trusting me that much."
"…I nearly missed this." He grimaces at the questioning look I send him. "You. Everything. I could have fucked it all up."
I don't even want to dwell on how close I've come to losing him. How many times we almost lost one another. I hold on to him a little tighter.
"It takes two," I remind him of my own shortcomings and mistakes; the padded bandage on my chest and the dressings winding around my fingers a testament to that. "God, that was good. Was…Was I okay?"
"Didn't hear me complaining, did you?" he asks with a different, husky quality to his voice that causes a shiver of anticipation to run up my spine. He nips my ear.
"No," I grin, basking in the afterglow, knowing we aren't nearly finished.
Somewhere, high up in the air there
I had long forgotten, I belong to you
Some unconscious stream of twisted logic
Caught me in its whirlwind, left me black and blue
(Malik's POV)
I awake to sunlight pouring down on top of me. Cringing, I bury my head under the pillow. For a moment I wonder where Marik is; why I'm alone in bed.
Whose bed is this?
Oh. Right.
Groaning, I peer out from under the pillow at the skylight. Really need to do something about that thing. For the first time I notice there are hinges on one side. It's a window that can be flung open on a temperate night. Not that there's anything to look at outside unless the moon is in the right position. The room itself is on the small side, though I fit the bed just fine. It's simple, like I prefer. Marik would throw a hissy fit over how plain it is.
It is quiet. Quieter than the other two's apartment in Egypt. Quieter than the damn hospital that never sleeps. Quieter than the hotel Rishid and I tried that was filled to the brim with reporters that apparently never sleep or sit still. That failed spectacularly.
I don't want to be here.
Light footfall approaches from below. I sigh but don't bother pretending I'm asleep. The whole reason he's coming up here is because he felt the shift when I woke.
"Malik?" he asks through the door, sounding a bit more eager than I anticipated.
"Yeah?"
Yugi's head pops in. He's trying to contain his excitement and failing miserably. I set the pillow aside and wait for whatever he's going to say.
"You're awake!"
"Why is that such a big deal?"
"Well, it was a bit longer than before…"
I sit up.
"How long?"
His brow draws at my anxiety spike.
"Not days or anything, Malik. But it's almost noon."
"Fuck," I swear, looking about in confusion for my clothes.
The hikari sets down my outfit from yesterday in a neatly folded little pile on the foot of the bed. This done, he steps back toward the door with a sunny smile.
"I did the laundry. Rishid and Isis's too. I'll give theirs to them when I go today to visit."
"When you visit…?" I query, frowning at his wording.
He swallows.
"Everybody agrees you need a down day. Since you're not even out of bed yet, how about we make that today?"
"Everybody?"
"Rishid, Isis, Marik and me."
I'm fucking sick of this.
"I could stay here," he ventures, testing the waters. "I'll be seeing Yami this evening anyway."
I stare at his small hand on the doorknob. I don't even want to go there. Don't even want to think about stupid Yami and Mahaado.
"No. You go."
Again with the creased brow.
"Malik, I wasn't at the hotel and you broke down."
"Don't."
No need to bring up more humiliating incidents. I meet his gaze so he'll knock it off with the sympathetic stare. The hikari quickly adjusts his expression to one of reluctant acceptance.
"Okay. I'm going to be heading out soon. You wanna come down for breakfa—lunch?"
I don't. I really don't. My traitorous stomach growls.
"Fine," I cave wearily.
"Great. I'll meet you downstairs in a few!"
The door swings shut and I sigh again. I suppose a lack of structure to the day isn't a bad thing. Though I don't know what the hells they are expecting me to do lounging around Pharaoh's abode aside from finding new things to panic about. I almost go after the hikari and ask him to stay. I can't though. It's like shooting more bullets through my already shredded pride. Besides, I want to prove to myself I can make it through part of a day in the teen's absence without my falling to pieces.
Dressed in clean clothes that smell of synthetic 'freshness', I make my way down the winding stairs and nearly bump into the hikari. He's standing on the landing, peeking through a door.
"I'll be down by and by," the old man's voice creaks from somewhere inside the room.
"Okay. We're about to eat." Yugi becomes crestfallen as he motions for me to follow him.
He is worried. The teen's anxiety is feeding my own nerves as we descend the narrow stairs to the main level.
"He's usually the first one awake. When I've been here the last few days he's been pretty worn down. Anzu did say all of this has been hard on him."
I digest that. I haven't actually seen the man. He was never at the hospital the same time as me and was already in bed when the hikari and I arrived last night. The teen looks back at me, able to read my tumble of emotions. Or maybe my unease it just that blaring.
"Malik, it's okay. I told him all about this-us. Er…our connection."
"I shouldn't be here."
He gets aggravated at that.
"And where the hell are you planning on going instead? Back to the hospital to jump out of your skin whenever the door opens and to fight with Isis? The hotel?" –he stops, remembering not to go there. "Yeah, that's what I thought. So get in the kitchen and eat something."
I'm not surprised by the show of force this time. Little bastard. It's the third or fourth time it's happened. It stills holds sway.
I settle for the bowl of oatmeal and a mug of tea the hikari hands me. The kitchen being one of the rooms in the house tailored more to the size of the occupants, Yugi and I end up in the living room. The hikari sits on the green couch munching on a sandwich. I settle cross-legged on the reclining chair, my food and beverage resting on the coffee table in front of me. It's frightening how easily we have fallen into a routine from our times spent in Egypt and at the hospital. Speaking isn't necessary. I can only handle so much of it and the hikari doesn't seem to mind the silence. It's not awkward like it would be with most people and I don't know why. Perhaps because of the link, we can already tell so much without the needs for vocalizing anything.
I reach out and touch the edge of the bowl. Deeming it cooled enough, I pick it up and slowly begin the process of eating. Like all other sensations, it's taking some adjusting. The only thing that comes easy to me is sleep.
Yugi waits until I'm halfway through my breakfast before shifting; a sign that he's going to start talking.
"So I'm going to discuss with Yami about how we're going to handle all of this."
'This' being me.
"Hikari's sister was going to look for a place today," I remind him even though neither of us has forgotten.
It'll have to be a fucking big apartment so I don't have to be anywhere near the bitch.
"Even if Isis does that doesn't mean it will be ready by tonight. You may have to stay here longer, Malik."
"You underestimate that bitch," I snort, flinching when the next spoonful is too hot.
"And we're back to the name-calling. I suppose the Millennium rod could make the house-finding process simpler."
He reaches for something next to him. I don't have to see it to know what it is. Hell, I sensed it was there long before we came down here. The hikari twirls the Millennium rod thoughtfully between his fingers, troubled by how harmless it seems when dormant.
"Jou's coming to the hospital today."
I chew the mush in silence. The hikari bristles in frustration.
"Don't you want to say anything?"
"No," I reveal blandly. "That's why I didn't say anything. See how that works?"
He glowers at me.
"Isis and Rishid have made it clear that they're keeping you and Marik together once he's out of the hospital. But since you and I are connected, all of you are going to be in Domino indefinitely. That leaves a lot of chances for you to run into Jou or Bakura."
"I doubt either of them will be eager to visit hikari and the others."
"Maybe, but Jou at least will be seeing me. And you and I are going to be around each other a lot."
I swallow the last mouthful of food, thankful to be done with it. Why is everything so overwhelming? So damn exhausting? Like this conversation.
"Could you get to your point instead of trying to put words in my mouth?"
"I'm asking you not make trouble for them."
"You're not asking anything."
"Fine. Don't make trouble for Jou and Bakura."
"Do I seem at all interested in doing so?"
"Well no, but…"
"I'm having my own existential crisis, little Pharaoh. I'm not interested in adding to it." I raise my eyebrows when he scowls at me. "Besides, I recall saying I was done interfering in all of that."
"You did," he agrees sullenly. "And a few weeks later you got yourself fully possessed trying to help them. You went through all of this for Bakura. You honestly expect me to believe you'll stop now? You full-out admitted to me you won't ever quit looking out for him. I just don't want a fight between you guys."
I reach for the tea, breathing a sigh of relief to find it the appropriate temperature. It's not pleasant but tolerable. That's all anything is anymore.
"Is Bakura safe?"
"Wha—yes," he says, sounding offended on behalf of the thief's companions. "He's with Ryou's father and Jou."
Well that's a surprise. Last I heard, he was still a secret from the hikari's family. Possible progress.
"He's there of his own accord?" I ask, taking a tentative sip and trying not to wince. It's fucking horrible. It tastes like he boiled mulched grass clippings.
"Yes."
"Well then, I don't need to intervene, do I?"
"But Jounouchi…"
We both stop as feet thump heavily on the stairs. The boy jumps up and hurries to the kitchen to get whatever he has ready and waiting. I make the mistake of taking another sip of the bitter tea as the man comes into view.
"Malik?" the hikari calls worriedly, appearing in the doorway to watch me choke. "Are you all right?"
I cough, wiping my mouth along the back of my sleeve as I openly stare at his grandfather. Up until now the most uncanny reincarnation was Marik's sister. This one takes the cake though. The man is Pharaoh's advisor, minus the darker skin. And the modern nightwear.
"Grandpa, this is Marik's yami, Malik. Malik, this is my grandfather, Solomon Mutou."
The old man and I stare at one another. This silence is beyond uncomfortable. I can't help it. He's the spitting image of Shimon. It's thrust me into the past without warning. The shop owner watches me with a guarded wariness, no doubt noticing the intensity with which I am dissecting him.
"He doesn't have a Millennium Item, does he?" he whispers as if I were incapable of language.
"No. Grandpa, I promised you he wouldn't. This isn't Battle City." Yugi sends me an apologetic look. "He had a bad run-in with Bakura."
"I didn't realize there was a good kind of run-in with the thief," I manage to comment. "And I should know."
That earns a faltering smile from Yugi. His grandfather doesn't budge.
"Grandpa, come sit down. I've got your coffee here."
The old man eases towards to couch all the while keeping his gaze fixed on me. My skin crawls at the sensation. I do what I can to repress the response but the hikari notices. He can't not notice.
"Both of you need to calm down."
"Thanks. That helps tremendously," I deadpan.
He pointedly pretends to ignore me.
"Grandpa, I want to head to the hospital soon. Are you feeling up to coming? You don't have to. I've got the rod, so there won't be any problems."
"You've really resorted to mind control," his grandfather shakes his head disapprovingly.
"Not because I like it!"
"Maybe just a little?" I can't hold back the jab, earning a glare from the hikari.
"Not helping, Malik!" He drops the hostility as he returns his attention to the old man who is peering at me over the rim of his coffee. "Are you up for coming with me?"
"Truth be told, I am not. As much as I dislike the idea of you doing such things to the doctors."
"It's not hurting them, Grandpa. I'm just…just…"
"Persuading?" I supply.
"Sure. Persuading. How about I have Honda come by later if you feel better? Anyway, this might work out for the best. I didn't really want to leave Malik here alone."
"Wait. He's staying?" the man demands while pointing at me.
All hilarity deflates from the situation. I hadn't really considered what he was asking. Well fuck.
"It'll be fine! You're both exhausted, so you can hang out here and rest."
You little son of a bitch.
"I don't know…" the man begins, staring at me like one does a hive of wasps.
"It's fine, isn't it, Malik?"
"Sure. Why not?" I try to be nonchalant about it, giving up on the disgusting tea and setting it aside. "My reputation is for killing fathers, not grandfathers, after all."
"Malik!" the hikari snaps as the old man pales.
Well I thought it was a reassuring argument.
(Mr. Mutou's POV)
"May I trouble you with an inquiry?"
He grips the bannister so hard his knuckles must smart, having almost escaped. It wasn't more than a few minutes ago that Yugi left. The yami had thought it safe to make a quiet exit back to Yugi's room until…until whatever.
"What?" he asks with his back to me.
"Blame an old man's curiosity if you will, but it has been troubling me since I came downstairs...Why won't you look at me?"
He makes a point of turning slowly, making eye contact just to prove that question as moot. I'm in the doorway to the kitchen, head tilted ever so slightly as I squints at this seemingly young person. He's not like Yami. He seems older. Not just physically a few years older but mentally. I suppose that makes sense. Yugi said this being was awake for the three thousand years in his Item.
"Was that it?" he ask wearily.
"No, it wasn't. I was wondering what caused you so much discomfort when you saw me. Let's neither of us pretend that I didn't have a reason for being disconcerted as I was. But I fail to see what could have provoked such a similar reaction from you. I am not as young or as strong as I used to be, nor do I possess any magical abilities."
He stares at me in a somnolent way. My grandson disclosed the present issues the yami is dealing with. They're connected—Yugi and this being, but not the same as Yugi is to Yami. I have so many questions but the current one is the most pressing. And he is not interested in conversing.
A police siren screams just outside the window, blaring as it flies off down the street. The yami crumples to his knees, hands folding tightly over his ears. I hurry over to him as the sound becomes distant. He flinches away with a hissing breath when I touch his shoulder. Then I recall Yugi said this ancient Egyptian is experiencing a sort of hyperesthesia; that the only thing he tolerates well is sleep. Perhaps a bit too well.
"It's all right. It'll be gone in a moment," I say, not sure whether he can hear me or not with his ears shielded like that and how harshly he's panting.
We remain where we are waiting to make sure more emergency vehicles won't be passing. I watch as he recovers, exhaustion taking over as the ordeal is finished. He lowers his shaking hands. Lavender eyes are fixed on the carpet as he works at controlling his breathing, gradually becoming shallower and slower.
I see now why Yugi brought him here. Public buildings filled to the brim with people must be unbearable for the yami. I'm still standing next to him, my hand hovering as if to touch him, and I am no longer afraid. As he recuperates his mortification at his reaction becomes apparent. Now more than ever he wants to slink away to somewhere that there won't be witnesses every time he breaks down.
"Would you like some tea?"
He glances at me with a wary suspicion.
"I've had tea."
"Yes, well, Yugi doesn't exactly excel at it. He uses the bagged stuff and steeps it too long. Can you imagine? I noticed you didn't seem to care for it." I beckon him back to the living room and he follows compliantly, too dazed from his ordeal to object. "Here. Sit down. That's better. Just sit there now and relax."
I go to the kitchen. He seems on the fence about whether to sneak for the stairs. I wouldn't stop him if he wanted to. I couldn't stop him. I don't speak anymore, going about making tea the old fashioned way. It involves perfect timing and keeping the pot uncovered for so long and covered another. It's worth it. It makes the Sencha so it is smooth and light, not grassy and bitter. I place the teapot and tea cups on the tray, forgoing the bulky mugs Yugi was using earlier.
I'm surprised that Malik remained. He's dosing on the recliner, his feet curled under him. The chair isn't in lounging position but upright. A less comfortable way to use it but more practical if one wants to get up quickly. Less vulnerable.
The yami's eyes snap open when he senses me near.
"Here we are," I say, pretending not to notice as I set the tray down the on low table between us. "This should do nicely."
He watches me pour. I move one to his side of the table and leave his cup there. He stares but doesn't touch it. Perhaps it has to do with whatever it is about me that makes him so uncomfortable. A mystery I am determined to tackle.
"I promise it is safe to drink. If you want, I can go first," I offer.
There are lines etched into his features from the amount of trials and tribulation he's endured.
"It's not that," he says without a trace of scorn, eyes on the tea so he doesn't have to look at me. "It's too hot."
"Ah. Well then, whenever you're ready," I say and take up my own cup.
The liquid warms me as it travels down my throat and emits heat throughout my body. I wonder at how such a comforting sensation could become so extreme.
"Yugi said this is new—this sensitivity to sounds, taste, temperatures…"
"Everything," he mutters darkly.
I regard the amount of resentment and humiliation in his tone and recognize it. Sitting back on the couch, I take my time drinking my cup. I feel a need to say something because Yugi and his young friends will not understand. Even if he feels Malik's emotions, Yugi isn't experiencing the actual pain and discomfort along with Malik.
"It's not fun being fragile, is it? Oh, people tell you there's no shame in it." I know I'm on the right track at the sharp look he gives me. "I'm old. Well, far younger than you, but my body has aged a great deal more. There comes a time when people start to treat you differently. Your bones can break easier, your memory may become hazy at times. I know there are things they don't tell me. Think I can't handle it," I puff up at the very notion before offering him a grim smile. "And sometimes maybe they're right. Sometimes. What I'm saying is: do what you can, when you can. And when you can't, let them help you, even if it hurts your pride and makes you cringe. Just try not to take it out on them. They want to help. It can be to an obnoxious extent, but there you are."
So many thoughts and emotions are brewing in him, threatening to overtake him and spill out. He isn't friends with Yami. I recall Yugi ranting when Malik left for Egypt when, according to my grandson and his friends, the thief needed Malik. Now to what extent that was true, I couldn't say. Charles Bakura has been in contact and says so far so good, if a bit of a rocky start. He's faring well with Jounouchi and Bakura. But where does that leave this yami? His hikari is out of commission. And Yugi said the tension has been worsening between Marik's family and Malik. They need some time apart. Some breathing room. So who does this ancient being have left to talk to? My grandson, who with all of his good intentions, cannot begin to fathom this.
"Tell me," I encourage quietly.
He lowers his gaze to his cup. He almost doesn't speak. Why would he confide in me? I'm just a tired old man. But then, in some ways, so is he. I've never seen anyone look as exhausted as he is.
"It was like…living under a wet blanket. Everything smothered. Muffled. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think."
"Three thousand years of suffocation. It is a miracle you are coherent." I beam at the doubtful stare he gives me, trying to suss out whether I'm mocking him.
"This is hardly a miracle!" he spits, a lavender light flashing in his eyes. "It's unbearable!"
"And you are afraid it won't go away," I counter softly, watching the pain manifest in his face at my words. "That you will remain in this discomfort until death takes you." I set my cup down. "That is my life now. I'm aging. My joints used to smart if I overexerted, but now? They hurt all the time. I can't move as quickly. I can't hear as well. I'm tired all the time."
I have to pause and regain my composure. It does no good to get upset in my attempt to calm the yami.
"You're restarting. Of course everything would be overwhelming when you have been cut off from it for so long. It's like bumping about in dark when the power goes out and then suddenly having a lights switched on. It's like staring straight at the sun." He stays quiet, actually listening to what I am saying. "You've been locked away from all of your senses, not just one. It is going to take time. I suppose they have already told you that you need to let it be what it is. Accept it with grace until it gradually recedes. Don't push yourself so hard so soon." I chuckle to myself, at myself. "I would do the same as you are: fighting it with every essence of my being. It's all right to challenge yourself. It's all right to be angry and frustrated. To try so hard and have things not go your way. You can feel however the hell you feel and you have the right to. Just don't push everyone away in the process."
A trembling hand reaches out for the cup. His fingers graze it testingly. I refill my own cup and lean back.
"I'm not used to this." His mouth twists as if he'd swallowed something repulsive. "All of these people."
"It makes life both easier and more difficult, sometimes simultaneously." I hold up my cup. "Welcome back."
"No, I meant…"
Malik stills as he seems to remember something or someone. He looks away. I try to imagine what it would be like to have your entire world disappear and to emerge in a completely alien place, knowing you'd never go back.
"Does he ever talk about Egypt?" he asks out of the blue.
"No. Perhaps he does to Yugi. Do you?—talk about ancient Egypt?"
"Rarely."
"Why is that? Only bad memories?"
"No." His long fingers wrap around the small cup. "There wasn't a reason to."
"And there is now?"
He gazes into the amber liquid, having become more subdued the longer we sit here and nothing bad happens. I monitor his movements and expressions carefully, making certain we aren't heading into a conversation he cannot handle. My grandson isn't here to placate him if that were to happen.
"You look like someone," he tells me gruffly. "Not just similarities. You're practically identical. It's as if he jumped through time."
I admit I was not expecting that. It explains his surprise at our first meeting.
"And is that a bad thing? This person I resemble—who was he?"
"Pharaoh's personal advisor."
That makes sense, I suppose. Men of my stature were revered in ancient Egypt, believed to possess celestial gifts and knowledge. They were holy. I experience a moment of jealousy towards my ancient counterpart before noticing that the yami did not answer the first question. Lines are riddling his forehead with tension and he appears to have forgotten about his tea, too immersed in recollections of this man.
"We needn't discuss him further," I say and he snaps back to here and now rather abruptly. "I think it'd do you good to get out of your mind for a bit. Let it be quiet of these thoughts and memories. I have an idea!"
He watches dubiously as I slide off the sofa and go to the cupboard beneath the old television set. I toss aside this and that as I search. Out of my peripheral I see the yami take a cautious sip of the tea. He seems surprised by what he finds and takes a larger taste.
"I am not playing Duel Monsters."
I figured as much. As exciting as actual live monsters sounds, Yami explained it wasn't a game. Not to them. So I thought better of suggesting it as much as I would like to see Malik's take on it, what strategies he would concoct.
"Of course not. It wouldn't do any good with what we are trying to accomplish," I say, holding up the slightly dusty leather-bound box in triumph.
It doesn't bring out a negative reaction. He just seems unconvinced of the whole idea.
"I don't think…"
"Yes, and that's the problem. You're feeling too much. So let's get you focused on something for a while. More tea?"
(Ryou's POV)
Giant jaws lined with teeth dive at me.
I gasp myself awake, jolting sharply in my bed. Immediately I groan. My face throbs when my features clench. Pain lances up my arms despite the strong medications they've been giving me. Those combined with antibiotics to stem off infection are taking their toll.
"Ry? You okay?"
"No," I mumble, trying to release the tension in my brow because it's only making my nose hurt more. "Are you?"
My vision, blurred either from all the drugs or my two black eyes, swims a bit as I turn my head to look at him. Jou's perched on a chair adjacent to my bed. He's no longer dressed in a hospital gown.
"I'm getting there. Don't worry about feeling groggy. They've just started lessening your meds today so you're more aware."
It makes sense. There are only a few solid minutes here and there. Most of them with Otousan.
"Your dad will be back in a bit. He was talking with the doctors about your care once you can go home."
"You've been discharged," I recall.
"Three days ago," Jou says, seeming uncomfortable about that. "Marik's siblings gave you an Item. I know it's kinda bulky but…Now the docs are saying you could get out as early as tomorrow."
I crane my neck to view the enormous Item that my fingers are wrapped around. It's one I haven't ever seen before. Ancient weighing scales. I decide to just go with it and not ask what this particular Item is capable of.
"Where is Bakura?"
"He…uh…got in a bit of a tussle with the hospital staff…"
"Of course he did."
Jounouchi smiles weakly.
"I was freakin' out and he was just trying to help."
"He would have found a reason to start a fight sooner or later."
"…probably," Jou concedes.
I squint at him when he doesn't say more.
"So where is he? Is he all right?"
"He hit his head."
"Shit."
"He's got the ring now," Jou adds hurriedly. "No new trauma that we can tell. No blackouts so far."
"He didn't have the ring before? No wait…Yami had it…didn't he?"
"He did during the…the fight. Marik was the worst off so he was wearing it until his family got here."
"Marik?"
That's right. Marik. I have a vague recollection of Anzu helping me walk past him. He had looked dead.
"It's a long story. I still don't even know all of it. Yugi went to Egypt to save Malik."
Egypt? That's right. Isis called me. I just didn't expect her brother to show up in the middle of the Shadow Realm.
"What's wrong with Malik?"
"He got taken over when he was tryin' to help us."
"Trying to…"
Trying to help Bakura. Trying to save him. I exhale through my mouth and silently thank the blonde yami.
"But he's all right?" I never thought I would be asking this question. It matters. It matters especially to my yami. Plus I would hate to owe that bastard my life and have him lose his: "Malik's alive?"
Jounouchi winces.
"I haven't seen him. Yug and Shaddi did something. I don't know what. All this is through the grapevine, y'know?"
I don't know. A lot of this doesn't seem real. The fragments of different stories I'm gathering aren't quite adding up.
"Why aren't you with Bakura if he's hurt?"
"He's at home. Er…temporary home. The hospital has banned him from visiting. He made quite the impression before."
"Idiots."
That earns me a lopsided smile.
"They got their reasons. He broke a hand and two noses."
"And how's Otousan handling that?" I ask dryly.
Jou sobers at the bite in my tone.
"Your dad's been helping a lot, Ry. He made them put the ring on Baku. He stayed with me when I was…when I was upset. Anzu's got her beefs with him but I don't." He licks his lips. "He said…he said you asked him to look out for me and Baku. He has been."
That catches me off guard. I thought he was pushing Bakura off as someone else's problem.
Jounouchi is watching me, taking in whatever emotions are recognizable on my face.
"Ryou?"
"We argued," I admit. "I told him—about Bakura. He didn't…He doesn't believe me."
Jou chews on the inside of his lip, scanning the IV drips and the sheer emptiness of the room.
"Does it matter?" He holds up bandaged hands when I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind. "I'm just sayin', Ry. He's doing what you asked even if he thinks whatever you told him is bullshit. He can tell this is important to you." His fingers fall to his arms, curling around the scarred areas. "That's a hell of a lot better dad than mine."
Shit. It had to go there. I bristle at the recollection of Jounouchi standing with my yami in his arms, his sister at his side begging him to come away. Their father unconscious at their feet. I remember how terrified Jou was even then.
"He's not getting me back—dad," Jou murmurs, staring at the pristine floor. "Mom either. Thanks to Mr. Mutou and your dad. Thanks to you."
I don't know what to say to that. Good? Is that the right response? To be glad neither of his parents is fit to have custody of him?
"I'm just glad you're safe."
He looks at me with surprise.
"Really? Ry, I had giant wolves pull you through a car window."
"I remember. And I'm still pissed. But we're going to deal with that later when I'm not hopped up on drugs and I can articulate more clearly how badly I will kick your ass if you ever do something like that again."
"I'm sorry. Again. How can I make it better?"
"By not doing it again. Ever. And not keeping a secret like that from us."
"You wouldn't let us help when Baku was hurting you," he points out.
"That was different," I argue knowing how stupid I sound. "Yami wanted to kill him."
"An' what would he have done to my dad?" Jou asks seriously. "Ry, I heard it in your voice back when the Realm was dispersing. If you'd had known you would have…"
"Well that's not how it ended up happening, so I guess we'll never know."
I would have.
"Where are the others?" I ask so he won't dwell on that.
"Yami's getting discharged today. He's been healing faster than they anticipated even though he hasn't had an Item for some time. Honda and Anzu have been helping out Mr. Mutou…"
"Honda? Since when did he come back?"
"Since the morning we all wound up in the hospital," Jounouchi tells me begrudgingly.
"He must not be causing any problems since Anzu's letting him stay."
"True," Jou agrees reluctantly, absently touching his ear as a trauma-response to the girl's wrath.
"Do you want him to leave? I could make him."
He stares at me in a disconcerting way. It's almost like he's afraid I can get up.
"Ry, you're still hurt bad."
"So? I've been around my yami long enough to know how to get my way."
Jou smiles wanly.
"No. At least, not for now. Honda is…Honda's helping Mr. Mutou a lot."
"Mr. Mutou? What's happened to Mr. Mutou?"
That question just makes Jou look all the more guilty and miserable. Since he doesn't act like he has an answer, I go over the tally in my head. Who haven't we accounted for yet?
"What about Shizuka?"
"Shizuka left with mom."
It's said monotonously, like he doesn't want me or himself to know how much that hurts. I move on.
"Otogi?"
Jou shrugs helplessly.
"Kaiba Corp. had bodyguards stationed outside his room. They weren't letting anyone but hospital staff in. At some point he was moved. No one will give us any information."
"Sounds like Kaiba Corp."
"Yeah. I just hope he's all right."
"He's not."
Jou isn't shocked that I would say something like that. I'm not going to sugarcoat anything that resulted from what he did in the Realm. Pretending it didn't happen or that it wasn't that bad isn't a solution. He has to accept the consequences.
"I'm not okay and you weren't hellbent on killing me. He's definitely not all right, Jou."
"I know. I just don't really know what to do. I haven't been around the others. Anzu and I keep in touch. She's been giving me the latest updates on everybody else. The last few days have just been stayin' with Baku at the apartment and resting, adjusting to everything."
I try to imagine Bakura, Jou and my father living together under one roof. I fail.
"How is he?"
"This is big for him. He gets unnerved by a lot of it, especially when your dad is involved. But he's letting me know so I can talk him down. Plus they've got him on some good anti-anxiety medication. It seems to be helping."
"You're joking," I scoff, imagining my yami willingly on any psychiatric medication.
"He's promised not to run away. Not to hurt himself. I believe him this time, Ry."
A few days ago I would have said that's complete bullshit. Hell, Bakura had erased my memories and fled. We still don't have his story of how he and Jou's sister ended up at my house. But when we were in the Realm and the giant wolves had me, I felt his rage, his protectiveness of me. He's never protected me before unless it benefitted him in some way. And then he entrusted me to keeping the wall up, believing I was capable of doing it. If I asked him now, he would probably brush it off and say something like "Well, I was low on options and you were there" or some shit like that because god forbid he be sentimental.
"What about you? Are you done dabbling in Shadow Magic?"
"Yes." He fights not to shrink back at my withering look. "I get if you don't have faith in me right now, Ry. I'm just asking you let me prove it to all of you."
"Fine. But you don't get an Item."
"I don't want one," he says eagerly. "Baku has one but he needs it. He's not using it. We agreed it'd be better if he didn't around your dad."
"If he did at least Otousan might believe me," I grumble in frustration.
"Is it worth it?"
"No," I sigh, annoyed by the irony of the situation. "As long as Otousan is willing to help regardless, I guess it's not."
"Might be better if we ease him into it," Jou suggests with a wry grin.
"I'm not sure Bakura will be able to contain himself."
"You'd be proud of him, Ry. He's surprising me even."
"He has developed the annoying habit of doing that."
(Anzu's POV)
"Where've you been?"
"Hello to you too," I grumble shoving past Honda into the Game Shop, arms loaded with bags. "I was getting groceries. Mr. Mutou said he was running low. And with Yami coming home today that's one more person to feed."
"Is this your guys' brilliant plan to chase me out?" Honda hisses, sticking close to me as I walk towards entry door to the Mutou's house.
I glance at him over my shoulder.
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't pretend like you don't know! To have Yugi conveniently leave and then I come here to—to this!"
"Seriously, Honda, I don't…"
"Seriously!" he all but shouts under his breath. "How can you do this? I've been helping! And you've involved Mr. Mutou!"
"Okay. Whatever. I'm going to put these away. Feel free to help," I snap at him, turning and pushing my way into the living room.
I make a point of storming through for Honda's benefit. I don't hear him follow. I'm at the doorway to the kitchen when I see someone out of my peripheral vision. Turning to my left, I freeze. All of the groceries crash to the ground, spilling out of the plastic bags. Mr. Mutou jumps up from his spot on the couch.
"Anzu! Good heavens, are you all right?"
"Fine," I squeak, unable to take my eyes off the yami.
Malik is sitting rigid on the recliner, his knees drawn up to his chest. He stays where he is as Mr. Mutou hurries forward to pick up the fallen food. Honda approaches warily from behind me, not quite daring to avert his attention from the yami in order to help me.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting…the two of you sitting here," I lie clumsily and no one for a second believes it. "Nothing broke did it? Honda, will you help?"
"It doesn't appear so," Mr. Mutou says, placing several cans back into a bag as Honda hesitantly kneels down. "Hummus! Did you get the good crackers…aha!" Mr. Mutou holds up the two items above his head in triumph, turning, to our surprise, to the yami. "Here we are! This is a real treat and not too strong of flavor either. Perfect snack for a relaxing pastime."
"A whaaa…?" I trail off when I spot the chess board set up in mid-game.
Honda lightly kicks my ankle. I glare at him but follow into the kitchen to put the groceries away. The bags thud and crinkle as we drop them on the countertop.
"You didn't know," Honda says, repentant for hounding me.
"Of course not!" I snap at him. "I would have let you know Marik's yami and Mr. Mutou were playing chess and drinking coffee!"
"It's tea, actually," Yugi's grandfather pipes up, squeezing past us.
"Mr. Mutou, are you all right?" Honda asks, keeping his voice down even though it would be difficult not to eavesdrop from the living room.
"He hasn't threatened you or anything?" I chime in.
"What? Oh no. Not at all," Mr. Mutou assures us with a wave of his hand. "He's having a rather rough time of things, as Yugi explained it to me. To be honest, I've felt under the weather myself given all that's going on. I thought we might do something to keep our minds occupied. To see him strategize you wouldn't believe he's never played chess before. He's a quick study."
I suppose we should be grateful it was chess and not a game that monsters could materialize. I wonder if Malik can draw monsters out of the cards with only heka?
"Honda, I thought you were driving Yugi and Yami home?" Mr. Mutou queries as he pours a generous amount of crackers into a bowl and takes the seal of the hummus container.
"Yugi asked me to swing by on the way to the hospital to see if you'd changed your mind," Honda says while shoving items into the refrigerator without any organization.
"No. I am quite content here. Besides, I would be a bad host to leave a houseguest all alone."
"Houseguest?" I echo dumbly as I restock the almost bare shelves. "Malik? When did that happen? I thought they put him in a hotel with Rishid."
"Quite. That didn't go well. He slept in Yugi's room last night. Yugi took Yami's. We figured the room furthest from the rest of the house and noises would be best. Plus, Yugi thought Malik wouldn't want to use Yami's room."
"Not to mention Yami's reaction," I mumble.
"It is my house," Mr. Mutou reminds us sternly. "The final decision of who is welcome here is mine."
"But what about when Yami gets home?" I ask, Honda and me trailing warily as Mr. Mutou heads back into the living room. "I'm guessing the Dark Magician is coming too."
Malik's fingers freeze over the bishop he is about to move. He doesn't look up from the board but that did it. Mr. Mutou sends me a reproving expression as he puts the snacks on the table and settles onto the couch.
"We haven't had a discussion about that."
"What is he even doing here—the Dark Magician?" I add before I'm accused of referring to Malik. "There's nothing left to fight. Yami's healing. We have all the Items. We don't need a temperamental, creepy, glowy-eyed monster watching everyone from the shadows."
"I haven't the foggiest." Mr. Mutou glances at the yami who has pulled his hand back and is staring blankly at the board.
"Yami keeps saying 'later' when I ask. Yugi brushed it off when I mentioned the Dark Magician to him. They both get weird when someone asks about him."
"You know, don't you?" Honda demands of Malik, having regained some composure upon understanding the yami doesn't have a Millennium Item. "You know why the Dark Magician is still here."
"It's not my concern."
"Perhaps not," Mr. Mutou agrees in a surprisingly gentle voice. "But it concerns those of us who care for Yami."
"So ask him."
"I'm asking you. I have a feeling, Malik, since you're not involved, that you'll be more straightforward on the subject than Yami." Mr. Mutou folds his hands in his lap, acting way too calm when normally in this situation he'd be up in the person's face, commanding he be given answers. "Would you be willing to tell us what you know?"
The yami sends him a sidelong look, hesitating.
"It's not a good idea."
"He wasn't asking your opinion!" Honda snaps.
Malik shoots him a lethal stare that causes Honda to take a step back. I don't make any threats of my own, having seen him erect that wall of flames at the hospital. Who knows what else the ancient Egyptian might be capable of even without the rod?
"Honda, that's enough," Mr. Mutou rebukes, dedicated to doing this without riling the yami. "Malik, I am asking for your help. It will not be pleasant news, am I correct? I can't imagine any good coming from that creature. Why has he remained here with Yami? What does he want?"
Malik considers the man thoughtfully. I'm surprised he's even thinking about talking to Mr. Mutou. Since when have they developed respect for each other? Hell, since when have then even known each other?
"He was supposed to be a weapon for Pharaoh to call on in a time of need. That was the purpose of him being here. That is why I summoned him. He could do things none of us could."
"But there isn't anyone left to fight…unless he's staying because he wants to fight you again," I say. "But Yami's forbidden that. So what's wrong? Is he stuck here?"
Malik looks at me and I have to suppress the urge to recoil. His stare is ancient and haunted. Though his eyes lack the effects of the Shadows now, there's still something beyond human about them.
"No. He could send Mahaado on to the Afterlife any time he wants."
" 'He' being Yami?" Mr. Mutou asks and is given an affirmative nod in response.
Malik leans back in his chair and returns to staring at the chess board; the scrutiny from three different people eating at his nerves by the looks of it. I don't know about Honda and Mr. Mutou, but my head is spinning. Yami could make that monster go away? He's letting him stay and torment us? Spy on and threaten everyone? Why? What's there to gain by keeping the Dark Magician here?
"Anzu. Honda." We both straighten up, ready to help Mr. Mutou in doing whatever necessary to make the yami tell us the rest. "Thank you both for coming, but I think it's best now if Malik and I speak in private."
"We're not leaving you with him!"
"We've been alone for nearly two hours, Honda."
I shake my head even as Mr. Mutou tries to give me a reassuring smile.
"Yami's our friend, Mr. Mutou! We have a right—."
"His welfare is my responsibility," he cuts me off, not unkindly. "I do appreciate both your help. Go on to the hospital and bring him and Yugi home. That is what you can do for Yami right now. That is what I need you to do."
I was senseless, battered and defenseless
Rain became relentless, leaving barren skies
I was broken, all I left unspoken
Left me torn wide open, barely still alive
(Yami's POV)
I wake to Yugi's foot in my ribs. Groaning, I struggle to get up using only my good arm, easing off of the single bed without waking my hikari. The first of the late summer sunlight is just starting to peek over the rooftops and creep under the blinds. It stains the carpet where I place my feet. Yugi mutters something in his dream, rolling over with a grunt. I wonder if he's always such an active sleeper, if recent events account for this, or if being tied to Malik is doing it.
I glance at the ceiling as if that will somehow aid me in detecting the other yami. I don't feel anything through my link with Yugi. Dead asleep then.
Tucking the golden box under my arm, I quietly exit the room. Making my way down the stairs I make sure to pass by Mr. Mutou's room as quietly as possible. A light has been left on in the living room. I put the box on the table with what sounds like a deafening thud. I hover over it for a moment, ears straining to detect any noise from upstairs. Once I'm assured everyone is still asleep I sink down onto the couch with a sigh. My fingers free the lid and I tilt the box carefully so the pieces slide out onto the tabletop. There are several large chunks of gold I've already fitted together.
"What now?"
"Now I finish reassembling this."
I wish Mahaado would just sit down like a normal person. Or like a person of any kind. He hovers a few inches off the ground, more antsy than ever to be on his way. I've noticed his stability worsening, though I wonder how much of my forcing him to remain invisible accounts for that.
"He did it to hinder us."
"No he didn't," I defend my hikari while knowing full-well Mahaado could be right about this. "He was angry. It's understandable."
"Are you so sure? Did you see the looks he exchanged with the tomb keepers?"
"Yes. But they have been through a lot. It could have alluded to plenty of different things. I'll have a talk with Yugi today now that we can speak alone."
"What about the traitor?"
Anzu and Honda were going on about how Mr. Mutou and Malik were 'hanging out'. When we got home, the other ancient had already made himself scarce. Mr. Mutou made excuses, claiming Malik had an early dinner and was turning in early since he'd been awake all day. It was plausible, though we all got the feeling it had more to do with my presence.
"What about Malik?" I ask wearily, having given up on convincing Mahaado to refer to him as anything else.
"Are you going to offer this to him?"
"Do you have a preference?"
Mahaado watches my fingers move over the fragments, searching for a match. I've gotten a bit better at working one-handed but it's still much slower this way.
"Whether he goes quietly now or dies in fifty years, he will meet the same fate. It makes no difference in the grand scheme. It depends on whether you want to leave your new companions with him."
"He could redeem himself," I say offhandedly, recalling the reason Yugi gave for attaching himself to Malik.
"Impossible."
"Are you a god now, Mahaado, that you can pass Judgement?"
"You are. And last time you found him guilty."
Radiant eyes dart to the stairway and he makes an aggravated noise in his throat. His expression morphs into one of pure retribution. That can only mean one thing: Malik's awake.
I sigh.
"Mahaado, stand down."
"He's coming."
"That's fine. I can handle him."
"You don't have a functioning Item. He has heka. I will protect you."
"Mahaado, Stand. Down."
There is no sound of footfall on the stairs. Given Malik's past occupations that doesn't surprise me. He doesn't seem surprised in the least to find us here. Then again, with the levels of sensitivity he's experiencing, I wonder if he can discern such things from greater distances.
"This looks fun," he says sarcastically, gaze moving between Mahaado and me and the broken puzzle.
"You helped create the situation by telling Yugi about Mahaado's plans."
"If you're going along with it then it's your plan too."
"You had no right!"
A mirthless smirk spreads across Malik's twitching lips.
"Be very careful, Pharaoh. I don't think you're one who can safely lecture me on that subject."
"Give me free reign with this scum," Mahaado requests heatedly while staring Malik down, my earlier proclamation that the other yami not be harmed still in effect.
"Aren't you done yet? How many times have you tried to kill me now?" Malik retorts. "What else do you want to take away from me?"
Malik's emotions begin churning wilder when my former priest speaks. I realize we're about to get into dangerous territory. Even if I keep Mahaado back, there's nothing holding Malik at bay if he feels like getting some justice for himself. I don't want a battle of any kind occurring in this household.
"Mahaado."
"Pharaoh, you don't need to give him choice. Let me make it simple. I can end him right now!"
"Please," I implore, not wanting to outright order him but know it's all the same. "Let me talk to Malik alone."
"He doesn't go anywhere. He just isn't visible to the naked eye," Malik reveals tersely, his own eyes glowing unnaturally so he can bear Mahaado's gaze.
"It'll have to do," I say as Mahaado sends my fellow yami a scathing glare before promptly vanishing.
Malik releases a shuddering breath, grabbing at the back of the couch. He's shaking all over, just like before. I can feel the panic, the whirlwind of fear that could topple a house. It's not fear of Mahaado. It's that same terror I felt in the hospital when Malik became angry and was afraid of harming Marik in the process. He's so used to losing control of himself that any extreme emotion causes him distress. I stand up, ready to offer help. I don't. I watch him steady himself and trudge over to the nearby chair and collapse on it.
"Out with it," he says resignedly. "Let's get this over with."
I'm amazed he's here, that he even came down at all. I'd have thought he would want to avoid me; or at the very least have Yugi around to help keep him stable. Perhaps he knew I wouldn't want Yugi involved any more than he already is. Malik seems to have some respect in that regard.
"There has been a request that I not ask you. That you need time here." I wobble a bit as I reclaim my seat. "However, I owe you this if you want it. It's the least I can do." Take a breath. Say it. Say it. "I'm…I'm sorry for locking you away. For the thousands of years in torment. And for what you suffered in these times as well. If I had known how to fix things I would have."
His face is a mask of impassiveness.
"Are you done?"
"Malik, I'm trying to apologize."
"To make yourself feel better?" he sneers, fingers digging into the chair's arms. "You fucked up everything! I thought I was helpless before but this is even better. I can't even stand to hold my hikari!"
I don't point out that the current state of affairs is a result of whatever Yugi, Rishid and Shaddi did of which they still won't give a full account. What they did was a result of trying to clean up my mess. It all comes back to me and my actions.
"If it's so unbearable then let me lead you into the Afterlife. Rishid and Yugi spoke of you needing time for penance, but if I stand on your behalf…"
"No."
My brow knits at that answer; so sure, so certain just like Bakura was. Just like his fellow thief, Malik didn't have to think about it. And I don't understand.
"Malik, if this is you worrying about damnation, I promise I'll protect you from that."
He studies me strangely, holding one of his wrists as he wills himself to stop trembling. I wouldn't be surprised if Yugi appeared any moment now with the amount of anxiety this is causing Malik. I can't help him with that, so I focus on my current problem: We're speaking the same language but the words are not making sense.
"Don't you think if I was going to call it quits I'd have done it when I became human and was still infested?" he asks with a sharp glint in his eye.
"I…then why…?"
"It's not in my nature," he says as if that explains everything. Malik tilts his head in contemplation. "That aside, there's hikari. He's been through enough. I may be falling apart at the seams but I know what my leaving would do to him. What I will get to experience secondhand through your hikari when you go, so thanks for continuing to screw me."
"That is not my intention. I'm trying to do what's right."
"You're trying to run away. If we were immortal spirits entrapped in Millennium Items and you had this remedy, I would have taken it. But we're humans."
"That changes it for you?" I ask, genuinely curious as to his response.
"That changes everything."
I shake my head.
"So because you were given a body that means you belong here?"
"I never said that."
"Then what the hells do you mean?" I ask in frustration. "I don't understand you."
"Since when did it become necessary to?"
"Since you're in this situation because of my actions! I am responsible. I'm trying to atone here, Malik, but I don't know how. What can I do?" I ask, letting my guard down more than I did with Bakura.
But why? Maybe because I'm not sure if Malik ever was really my enemy in ancient Egypt. Circumstances and the wrong advice saw to my views of him. But he never wronged me personally. He never attacked people I cared about or made threats. His main concern was Bakura's safety, as was mine. I just didn't know it. I look at this person sitting across from me, at last devoid of Shadows, and I don't know who he is. The only Malik I ever really knew was possessed Malik.
"Nothing." He sags into the cushions miserably. "I don't want anything from you."
That baffles me. At the very least, I would think he'd want vengeance. Some form of comeuppance.
I note the change in his expression as something occurs to him. Lavender eyes narrow.
"Did you make this offer to Bakura?"
"I did. I chose to come to these times. You and Bakura didn't. The best I can do now is offer a way out."
"Why?"
"Why?" I echo, confused by his question. Didn't I already explain this to him?
"Why the hells did you seal yourself away?"
My voice lumps in my throat. I hadn't been prepared for that question. I open my mouth but have to pause to find my words again. His face sobers in understanding at my hesitation.
"Penance. My hands weren't exactly clean," I say too late, not convincing either one of us.
He sees through the thin white lies. He sees me.
"You don't get to do this now," Malik whispers menacingly. "You have no right."
"What are you talking about?"
"It's been three thousand years!"
"For you," I point out, desperate for him to get it. "It's been four years for me. One since I have had my memory."
"Oh yes. Only one!" He leans forward even as a visible shudder runs through him; struggling with how much this conversation is working him up. "Only one whole year to make amends. To apologize. To try to repair bridges with him. Stifle whatever hope you have of salvaging that relationship. You slew that when you turned your back after you had recovered your memories. From that point on, you killed him over and over again. So just drop it already."
"What about you? Your brilliant answer to this is to cut ties with him completely? To leave him alone?"
"He's not alone. I'm giving him a chance to do things his way, regardless of my views. Not that I had high expectations aside from a train wreck, like with you." The edges of Malik's eyes crinkle. "Hell, so far he appears to be faring better than either of us."
It stings because it's true. I hate that. I fully admit to being jealous of the thief. He's found something I haven't. How did he turn it all around after wanting out so badly? How did he suddenly want to stay here?
How did he let me go?
I suddenly want out of this conversation. I don't want to dive into this. And certainly not with Malik. He is unearthing the betraying thoughts that I have barely dared to touch.
"All right." I straighten up with a tight grimace of a smile and rise off the couch. "Your mind is made up. I have enough experience to know it's pointless to argue now."
I take a step back from him. Then another. I don't want to linger here any longer.
Malik regards me scornfully.
"You think your friends are going to forgive you abandoning them? Your hikari?"
"I can't explain it to them. You understand, even if you aren't coming." I turn, leaving the puzzle pieces on the table, too anxious to get away to worry about them. "What I said before, I really am sorry, Malik."
"Yami."
My traitorous feet stop against my will. I look up the dark stairs, willing my body to keep moving. To get away from this dialogue, from this person who seems to comprehend too many things I do not or that I don't want to.
"This Afterlife idea—whoever's it is—this is just your own dressed up brand of suicide. This is your truck to jump in front of."
(Anzu's POV)
I stand in the doorway to try to keep the late morning rain off me. My finger runs down the list of apartment numbers since it's probably too soon to have had a name added. Pressing the buzzer, I wait. No one answers. I wait a quick ten seconds and try again. The door hums. Surprised but wondering if maybe the intercom is broken, I push the door in and tread down the hall and up a flight of stairs. It's the second door on the left. I raise my hand to rap my knuckles on the door and then it isn't there. The yami stares at me, sizing me up.
I open my mouth. I don't know what to say. It's stupid because I was invited. I shouldn't have to explain my presence or be interrogated!
Some recollection of this visit seems to spark in the thief's brain.
"He's showering," Bakura states blandly, moving aside with an air of obvious reluctance.
Great. Just perfect.
I step in and close the door behind me.
"I thought Jou said 10:30," I mumble, fumbling to look at my phone.
"Must've lost track of time," Bakura says cryptically before taking a drink from his mug of coffee and wandering out of the open kitchen and into the designated living room. There's a couch. That's it. No coffee table. No chairs.
'Nowhere else to sit,' I silently bemoan, trying to act as casual as possible as I sit down opposite from the thief, far enough way to not be directly next to him but not so far to be insulting.
He stares at the wall where there should be some décor but isn't. A mess of papers, binders, and books are scattered and possibly categorized on the floor below it. I spot a lot of English, Arabic, and hieroglyphs.
"Mr. Bakura's hard at work, I see."
The thief grunts and takes another sip of his drink, not deeming that statement worthy of a verbal response. I sigh in frustration. Oddly enough, I am not afraid. Not even a little. After what Bakura did in the Shadow Realm—the way he protected everyone from Jounouchi and the Shadow wolves deserves respect. Having helped Ryou keep the shield solid after his yami went down, it boggles my mind how massive and complex it was. I can't begin to imagine how Bakura created it in the first place. I wonder if it would be possible to do that with heka. I don't see why not after what Malik did with the fire at the hospital…
'Don't go there,' I remind myself, glancing at the yami out of the corner of my eye. 'Not now, anyway.'
I notice how Bakura's white hair is hanging down in damp threads. So he had a shower too. No wonder Jou was running late if they both needed to…I cough and turn away as if I'm admiring the lack of furnishings, a blush heating my face when I spot the hickey at the base of the thief's neck. It explains why both of them were in need of showers. Why Jounouchi lost track of time and forgot I was coming. Honestly, what should I expect? They are a couple after all. I just wasn't prepared for that sudden mental image that invaded my head.
"Katsuya's sister hasn't called you?" Bakura's looking at me appraisingly, wondering if he can make this unbearable wait for Jou worthwhile.
"No," I breathe, grateful for a new topic. "I take it she hasn't contacted Jounouchi either?"
"No. He tried to call her but the number has been changed."
"It's probably their mom. She doesn't want Shizuka around Jounouchi anymore. Bitch," I grumble in frustration.
Bakura stares at me for a long moment. I'm about to yell at him to knock it off; then he gets up without a word and walks away. He just leaves me sitting here. I gape after him as he disappears into a room down the short hallway. The hell? If I pissed him off that much all he had to do was say be quiet. But to just wander off when I'm talking about something that concerns Jounouchi's welfare he could at least feign interest! Especially since Bakura was the one who asked in the first place!
My mouth snaps shut when the thief reappears. I notice the chary glance he sends the bathroom door as he passes by it. That makes me sit up straight as he comes back to the couch and sits down in his previous spot. His focus is on something small and white in his hands. I blink in surprise when he's suddenly holding it out to me.
"She left this."
I accept the crumpled scrap of paper. On it are just two sentences written in quick but neat scrawl.
He chose you. Take care of him.
I turn it over, expecting more. There isn't.
"I don't get it. She gave this to Jou?"
"No." Sharp eyes dissect me before averting to the message in my hand. He obviously doesn't want to talk to me of all people about this. "When I woke up in the hospital, before I'd seen anyone, it was wadded up in my hand."
"Then how to you know it's from Shizuka?" I demand.
"She wrote him a letter before. At the high-rise. I recognized her penmanship."
It makes sense. It's rather unique. Not many people write so nice anymore.
"Wait a minute!" I exclaim, shifting a bit closer. "She left this for you after the Shadow Realm? What about Jounouchi? What did she tell him?"
"Not a single word."
"But…!" I glare at the pretty writing. "That's not right. It's his sister!"
"If you're looking for me to argue with you you're going to be disappointed."
"Then why would she leave this for you? It's not like you two know each other." I remember at once how we found them sitting in the dark at Ryou's quarantined house, both of them feigning innocence as if it was a perfectly natural thing to be doing. "This is about something from before, isn't it?"
He scowls but doesn't say anything. I send the look straight back at him.
"You brought this up, Bakura," I point out, folding my arms. "It's up to you. Do you want my help or not?"
The yami shifts as if he's going to leave. Or attack. Or maybe it's just the conclusions my mind jumps to because those are his most common choices. He does neither. Bakura lets his head fall against the back of the couch with a sigh.
"When she wouldn't leave me alone she babbled a lot," he states wearily. "One of the few things we agreed on was Katsuya would pick her over me if necessary. But it couldn't have been that. He told me he never got to see her at the hospital. She couldn't have given him an ultimatum."
"Well if it wasn't from a conversation between them then obviously it's the whole thing of pulling himself out of a Shadow possession." I feel bad stating it so matter-of-factly when brown eyes widen considerably. "You didn't know?"
"He did what?"
"Right! You were unconscious. So, umm…" I try to pick my brain for how all of the events unfolded. It was too chaotic. "Jounouchi wasn't responding to any of us. He kept attacking people. Otogi. Yami. It was right after you got Shizuka and me inside the shield—thanks, by the way," I add distractedly. "You collapsed. Then Jou just…snapped out of his bloodlust. He was frantic. He wanted to get to you. Wanted to give you the key. Yami wouldn't let him, told Jou to hand it over and then they could help you. So Jou did. And then he just…I don't know what happened or how, but it somehow freed him. He did it himself. According to Yami and Isis, that's pretty rare, right?"
The yami appears to be in a state of shock, fingers clenched in his lap.
"I don't…think that's ever happened before."
I nod eagerly.
"So maybe that's what Shizuka was referring to! Before that she had tried to talk him down and it didn't work." My brow knits as I come to the end of the explanation. "Wait, you both thought Jounouchi would dump you if Shizuka disapproved? Why the hell would something like that even come up? Who has a conversation like that?"
"Me and Katsuya's twerp of a sister, apparently. She asked."
I sit back with a huff, rereading the two lines as if to decipher some secret code. There isn't anything deeper. No hidden message. It bothers me considerably that Shizuka would ask such a question of the thief to begin with. That she somehow views Bakura's presence in Jou's life as a threat or competition to her. It's not like she's been there much. My features tighten the more I think about it. When I speak again my voice is trembling in a budding anger I'm not suppressing very well.
"So, because Jou was able to essentially give himself an exorcism when something bad happened to you but not when she tried to talk him down, that means she's just going to walk out of his life?"
"It looks that way. For the record, he didn't listen to me either," the thief replies irritably, touching his healing split lip. "I was hoping you had a better alternative reason."
I almost retort at the accusing tone, as if all of this is my fault, but he already looks so damn despondent. I hand back the slip of paper.
"What's Jou think of this?"
He shrugs uncomfortably.
"I haven't told him."
"Really?" I ask in surprise.
"I didn't even know what it meant. What was the little bitch doing sneaking notes to me when she could have been talking to him?" the yami complains, shoving the paper into his pocket.
It's a valid question. This, of course, is the sister who sent a video tape rather than simply calling her brother, we must remember.
"Do you have her new phone number?" I ask, hoping we have something we can work with.
"Why would I have it?" he asks in exasperation.
"I don't know. Why would she leave a message for you and not her brother?"
The thief groans in frustration, pressing his palms to his forehead.
"I didn't want to be in between them!"
"If it's any consolation, it doesn't sound like you were trying to."
"It's not," he snaps.
We both tense at the sound of the water turning off. That gives little time to figure out what to do next. I assume Bakura wants to do something since he bothered confiding in me.
"We could see if Otogi could get her number," I suggest, having lowered my voice even though Jou won't be listening for us. I hate to resort to these options: "He might be able to use Kaiba Corp.'s resources to get it."
"Katsuya will so appreciate you sending that pervert to track down his sister's personal information. Plus he tried to kill dice boy. Why would he be interested in helping?"
"One thing at a time," I growl, annoyed at how easily the thief is finding holes in my plans. "Do you have a better idea?"
"No. And I'm not sure bringing her back in is the right call."
"Then why bother asking me in the first place?" I ask in annoyance.
"I don't know. Just on the off chance she'd reached out to someone else," he admits before quickly getting to his feet. "Hold on. Just thought of something."
"Something to help with this or…?" I falter as he stops in the hall and knocks sharply on the bathroom door.
"Katsuya, your friend is here so put pants on before you come out, yeah?"
"Oh I completely forgot!" Jounouchi exclaims from the other side. "I'll just be a minute!"
Rolling his eyes, the thief makes his way back to the couch at a much more relaxed pace.
"I appreciate that," I say quite sincerely. "Thanks."
"We've all had enough traumas for one week," he mutters leaning back again and closing his eyes.
I snicker and this time the silence between us isn't stifling. There are a few 'thuds' and quiet cursing as Jounouchi scrambles to get dressed, causing the edges of Bakura's mouth to upturn almost imperceptibly. I bite the inside of my cheeks to try not to smile. I still don't know how I feel about them; better than I did before. Bakura and Yami's relationship in the past still doesn't sit well with me, but I've recognized that's my own problem to sort out. I can't keep blaming everything on Bakura because I'm jealous of what he had.
"Sorry sorry!" Jou bursts from the bathroom, still pulling his tee shirt on. "I don't know how I forgot!"
"It's fine, Jou," I assure him, not wanting him to try to make up implausible excuses.
Bakura gets up and wanders to the kitchen area as Jou takes a seat beside me. I notice the weird way my friend is holding his hands palms-up on his knees.
"Oh my god."
"It's just burns and they're healing good," he assures me quickly. "Not nearly as bad as what the others got."
"You should borrow an Item," comes the gravelly voice from across the way.
"Don't you dare take that off!" Jounouchi warns the thief; by the sounds of it, an ongoing argument between them.
"How is your head doing?" I ask, making a point of addressing the thief instead of asking Jou.
He casts a cagey look at me but comes back toward us with a roll of bandages and a jar of ointment in his hands.
"No blackouts. Nothing bad," Jou chimes in before Bakura can answer. "Thanks again, Anzu, for convincing Mr. B to give him the ring."
"You weren't just sitting on the sidelines, Jou," I remind him, marveling at how gently the yami takes Jou's hand and applies the salve. "So have things been okay with Ryou's dad?"
They share a glance and Jou shrugs. Bakura returns to his ministrations without comment.
"Okay. He's still pretty anxious about being our guardian. I think he'll feel a lot better once Ry is here too."
"No doubt," I agree.
"How about you? And the Mutous? I didn't see them at the hospital. You said Yami came home yesterday. Bet they're all resting up."
"Welllll…yes and no."
"What's that mean? Is he all right?" Jou's voice hikes. "Is Yami all right?"
"He's okay, Jou." I motion at his boyfriend who is currently focused on wrapping Jounouchi's fingers one by one. "Um…it's just they're having some issues adjusting."
"Adjusting to what?"
"Yami's asshole of a priest, the Dark Magician, for starters."
"What?" The thief's voice takes on a deadly quality. Jounouchi cringes.
"You didn't tell him?" I ask, realizing this has just gone from bad news to worse.
"I didn't see a point. I figured he'd gone away!"
"You had better not be talking about who I think you are."
"Oh I'm sure we are," I grumble before sobering at the other piece of information I have to be the bearer of. "Jou, did you want to do this in private first…?"
Bakura instantly shoots Jounouchi a threatening look. Somehow he's caught on. Jou manages a guilty wince of a smile.
"You said you'd leave this be."
"I promised not to mess with Malik and Marik. I asked Anzu to find out what she could about how they're doin'," Jou tells his koi patiently before asking me: "I take it you don't have good news?"
"Well, it's not all bad either," I say, trying to be fair to Yugi and what he's managed to do for Malik and Marik.
The thief still looks pissed, but a line of worry is furrowing his forehead. He doesn't yell at Jou for having me over to give an update on Malik. The thief doesn't get up and leave. Jounouchi shoots Bakura a concerned glance.
"Looks like we're hearing this together. Go ahead, Anzu."
But you were never one to keep a record
One to hold against me all I failed to prove
I've been tethered, floating like a feather
Anxious in my roaming, stranded on the move
(Yami's POV)
Malik doesn't make an appearance for breakfast or lunch. It doesn't seem odd. They all just assume he is trying to avoid me. Which he is. There is more to it though, my own head reeling from our conversation earlier. I won't pretend that his words didn't have an effect on me. They did. Very much so. But what do I do about it? He gave me his answer. I can't keep badgering him because I want to understand. After what the rest of us have put him through, Malik deserves some peace. I'm not convinced at all he'll find it here, but never once did he mention expectations of such.
Even two levels below him I can feel the claustrophobia through his connection with Yugi. Our conversation wreaked havoc on Malik. My hikari has been busy disappearing with a phone to talk with Anzu. Mr. Mutou had to get him back on track as Malik's emotional support. No one asks me. It would produce the opposite of the desired effect. Yugi's traversed up the stairs again, this time with a tray of food and drink in hand to try to coax my fellow ancient Egyptian to eat something.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Mr. Mutou sits down beside me on the couch, peering at the nearly completed puzzle. "You've made some progress."
"With any luck I'll have it back together by the end of the day," I agree distractedly, turning a gold piece around to try to locate the right fit. It shouldn't be so hard. The enchantment on it that makes only me and Yugi capable of it plays on the senses, even ours. Though I admit I am preoccupied even without that going on.
"And then what?"
There is something in his tone that makes me look at him. With me sitting, we are at eyelevel with each other.
"Were you going to tell me? Tell any of us?"
There's no use pretending. Obviously Yugi told him. It's his business. The man has a right to know. I've been dreading it, unable to find a way to breach the subject. Perhaps it's better this way.
"I was going to—am going to when the time is right. I just don't want to upset everyone more than necessary."
Mr. Mutou frowns.
"You mean you don't want to have to see too much of it. They're going to be upset whether you tell them a year in advance or two minutes."
"I don't belong here."
I immediately regret those words. He looks as if I just slapped him.
"I'm sorry you feel that way. Was there something I said or did to cause you to…?"
"You didn't do anything wrong. None of you did. It's something I cannot explain. I don't know how."
Mr. Mutou digests that, picking up a corner piece I have yet to place. He turns it over in his hands thoughtfully, weighing it in his palm.
"This Afterlife you are trying to get to, these loved ones you are so eager to see…will that have changed if you choose to live out your life here first?"
"I, no, but—"
"You won't be denied entrance? Receive less honor?"
"Well no…"
"Then why the rush?" he asks, not as an interrogation, but with a genuine desire to know. "Yami, you were so young when you were sealed away. You'd barely begun to live. You've only had a body again for a year and already you are ready to be done with it? This is your chance."
"To do what?" I ask with an edge to my voice.
"Why, anything you set your mind to. You're resourceful and kind. You have a group of friends and family who care for your wellbeing. As far as I am concerned, you are my grandson. I'd hate to see you throw it all away because of what you are being offered in this moment, when you can wait, live, and so have both. Does the Dark Magician take any of that into consideration?"
"No," I answer honestly, fidgeting at this conversation. "He wants to accompany me. It's his duty to look out for me."
"And if you were to remain, would you need a supernatural being to watch over you?"
"The reason he's here now is because of the mess we got ourselves into a week ago," I point out. "If that happens again…"
"Do you foresee it happening again?"
"I didn't see it coming the first time! I should have. I didn't protect them like I should have. I failed to defend them, just like in the past. It was my fault." I bury my face in my hand, shaking awfully. "And I can't—I can't do this anymore!"
Tears are escaping my eyes, seeping between my fingers. Tears I didn't know I had to shed. Mr. Mutou grips my forearm.
"Yami," he says gently.
"I can't," I gasp through the tears. "I can't let all of you down too. Not again."
((You never did.))
I tense at the voice, not having sensed his presence. Mr. Mutou shifts, making room so Yugi can slip by and sit on my opposite side.
"It's okay, Yami," my hikari assures me. "You don't need to hold up the sky anymore. What we've done…always waiting for you to save us, to solve everything, it's not fair. We all got that loud and clear when we lost you back there. I understood when I had to go save Malik. I felt what it must be like every time you had to rescue us. But Yami, we can do better. Please give us a chance to do better."
I shake my head vehemently, face still covered. Afraid to look at either of them. Afraid they witness my falling apart.
"You are going to make mistakes. We all are. That's part of being human." Mr. Mutou pauses, his fingers squeezing comfortingly. "Though I venture it was not part of being a pharaoh?"
"No," I croak.
"Well you aren't a pharaoh anymore."
Something shudders in my chest to hear those words spoken aloud. I've heard it before, said it to myself. But there's something different about it now. I've never believed it. I've always been called upon to use my powers, my destiny, drawn back into old feuds.
"I can use Shadow Magic," Yugi offers. "So can Ryou. Anzu can do that other magic Shaddi mentioned. Heka? And Jounouchi can…well, maybe we won't let Jounouchi. What I'm saying is, you aren't all by yourself trying to keep us safe. We can do it too."
"My friends and priests were even stronger yet they still perished," I say with a quivering voice. "But if I left…"
"The Items would remain," Mr. Mutou interrupts. "The world would still have its share of perils."
"I just want…doesn't it get easier at some point?" I ask, feeling foolish for even asking.
Truth be told, it's what I thought ever since I awoke in these times. I believed that if I could just find out who I was, I would be satisfied. Things would settle. But it feels like everything only got more turbulent once I did know. Recovering my memory only brought heartache and regret.
"In all honesty? It comes and goes," Mr. Mutou says with a tight smile. "But if you don't give up on life, it can be quite worth it." He lets go, patting my arm. "Just don't make a hasty decision. We all just want what's best for you."
The buzzer to the shop goes off. Mr. Mutou hops off the couch to go and shoo away the potential customers, having left a note on the door that he's taking time off for family matters. Yugi stays with me, rubbing his feet together absentmindedly as we stare at the near-complete puzzle on the coffee table.
"I could help with that, if you like."
"There's no need, aibou. I know how you feel about all of this."
"It feels like you're trying to run away from everything. From all of us."
I can't quite figure out a response to that. Maybe because the more I sit with the thought, the more accurate it is? Not that I want to leave them behind. But the idea of no more suffering, no more worrying and fighting… Malik's words come back to haunt me and I can't quite shake loose of them. This isn't suicide. Not by a long shot. It's an opportunity.
"I'm sorry. It's not how I mean it to be."
We sit staring at the broken puzzle; the Item that brought us together. It's where it all began.
"Is there anything else I can do?" I ask because I owe my lighter half so much.
"I'd say 'Don't go', but Malik hinted that it wouldn't be fair of me to do," he grumbles.
"Malik said that?"
"Don't act so surprised, Yami," Yugi beams at my bafflement. "He has a hikari, too."
"Well yes," I stumble over my words. "I just didn't take him for one to stand up for me or you."
"Part of it has to do with my link with him, I'm sure." Yugi frowns as he picks up the center piece containing the Millennium Symbol. "You know, just with what I've gotten to experience with him, I think Malik could have been a really good person if he'd had the chance."
"The circumstances of his life in ancient Egypt were not my…"
"I wasn't blaming you, Yami. It's just…he's loyal to a fault. I always thought I was. He takes it to another level entirely."
"This had better not become a competition between you two."
"I'm planning to do it in a healthier way than him. Maybe." He shrugs. "Hopefully."
"You're saying you're becoming friends with him?"
"I dunno. I think eventually, if he lets me. To be honest, I don't know. We have our boundaries. He's opened up to me a little because there isn't anyone else…though I'm beginning to think Grandpa may be replacing me in that. How the hell did that happen?"
"Got me. What would they have to talk about?"
"Hmph! You talk as if I'm a boring old man with nothing to say."
We both grin apologetically as Mr. Mutou renters the living room.
"Sorry, Grandpa. It's just…Malik is…was all 'big bad evil'."
"I was bold back in the day!" the man protests this unfair comparison. "To get to a more productive topic: I have been pondering other ways we might be able to help him."
"I've been in contact with Rishid. He doesn't have many ideas," Yugi admits. "Most of his experiences with these types of links consisted in smothering Malik. What about the Items, Yami?"
"I can't think of anything off the top of my head," I reply, seeing no reason to deprive the other ancient of a much needed reprieve.
"Could I sort of, I don't know, make a suggestion while he's under the control of the rod? Tell him to snap out of it?"
"I don't think that's a good idea. He's been influenced by that Item enough. And it would do some damage of its own given it would have to be a constant sway." I rub the edge of my eye with my finger. "I've thought it over. The best bet would be Mahaado."
Yugi's face darkens.
"I don't like that plan."
"Neither do I," I confess. "While Mahaado might be able to do something, I don't want to ask unless Malik's condition worsens. Neither of them would welcome the prospect."
"If it came to that, would you trust him to do it?"
"No. And that's the other reason I haven't opted for it. The Afterlife aside, Mahaado is obsessed with hurting Malik. I'm sorry, aibou. I haven't been able to come up with anything better. "
"Perhaps everyone could stop thinking of this purely from a magical standpoint," Mr. Mutou criticizes. "That's the problem with you kids. You've become so accustomed to using the Millennium Items to solve all of your problems you've forgotten there are alternatives."
"I'm doing what I can," my hikari reveals somberly, developing a cagey expression. "I shield him and it doesn't feel like enough."
"It sounds like you have a suggestion you're hesitant to make."
"Neither of you are going to like it. Heck, I'm not sure if I do." I know what it is even before he continues: "Malik is going through something serious and he should have the best support possible."
"Marik might be out of commission for a while yet," I remind him, hoping against hope he isn't going to say what comes out of his mouth next.
"Bakura isn't."
I share a glance with Mr. Mutou. He isn't having it, Bakura in his home being too much.
"You want to bring the thief into this?" I ask quietly.
"No. I don't. But it may be our best shot. Plus Anzu and Ryou's dad have both said Bakura has been doing fairly well."
"Does it have to be him?" Mr. Mutou asks, pained.
"Malik and I aren't hikari and yami. We're not friends. Bakura is...Bakura's his family. Malik told me so."
Feeling the amount of Malik's emotions that I can just through my link with Yugi, I don't have a place in making this decision for him. I almost do. I almost butt in. I want to. Then I remember what Yugi just said to me moments ago; about wanting to not heave everything onto my shoulders. So I stay silent. I wait on the sidelines.
"And what does Malik say of this?" Mr. Mutou asks, at war with what he wants versus what the yami needs.
"I don't think he knows," Yugi admits. "Marik would know what to do."
He and I both wait for a sign from his grandfather. The old man is aware it's up to him. Neither of us will force him to allow the thief in if he doesn't want him here. Just as with Yugi's suggestion, I know what Mr. Mutou's choice will be. It's just the type of people they are.
"Call the hospital then."
"Nothing yet?" Yugi asks, coming into the kitchen.
"I wouldn't be in here if there was," I chuckle, placing the last of the dishes in the strainer.
"Well what's taking them so long?"
"They probably had dinner."
"How long does it take to eat something?" he complains, plopping down on a chair in frustration.
"Yugi, breathe." I turn and study him as I dry my hands with a clean dishtowel. "Have you changed your mind about this?"
"I dunno. Maybe? I guess I'd rather have a longer discussion with Malik. A more coherent one."
I can't find I disagree with that. Still, Rishid and Isis gave the green light for this. That's something. Marik did as well, which came as a surprise after his behavior earlier this summer. It makes me just a bit suspicious they're setting everything up for a fail, except they know how fragile Malik is right now. None of them would risk that.
Marik's words when he first woke come back to haunt me again. I haven't told anyone. How could I? But it does make me wonder if he's trying to pass Malik on to someone else. It doesn't seem so. When he was reunited with Malik, he clung to his former yami. None of it was an act. We'll have to go forward and hope the hikari's motives are pure.
"We can call them now," I suggest. "Have them wait for another day."
"Yeah, that'll go over well."
"How any of them feel isn't our priority. What?" I ask when his face breaks into a big grin.
"You said 'our'."
"Please don't act like I was going to avoid being involved. Not with you tethered to Malik."
My lighter half stands up and gently elbows me in the side.
"Maybe you feel just a tad responsible for him, too?"
"Maybe." I glance at the clock on the wall. 9pm. It'll be getting dark soon, with the summer coming to a close. "What about your grandfather?"
"Oh, he's still not happy about it. To be fair, Grandpa never got closure for Battle City. Heck, a lot of us haven't gotten closure. Period. Speaking of which…"
"Don't go there, aibou."
"But can you handle this?"
Someone knocks on the door in the living room that connects to the shop. We'd turned off the shop lights but left it unlocked so they could get in, fearing the buzzer going off and grating Malik's nerves.
"I guess we're about to find out," I sigh. "Come on."
Footsteps on the stairs announce Mr. Mutou's presence. He stops three steps from the ground. His eyes are wide, though he's holding his head up to try to conceal his discomfort, just making him look all the more stressed.
"They're here?"
"They are," Yugi looks between us. We're all on edge. What a welcoming committee. "Everyone ready?"
"I suppose it doesn't matter now, does it?" I hear his grandfather mumble as Yugi opens the door.
Anzu is first, beckoning everyone else in. Jounouchi offers a nervous smile and small wave. It's the first time I've seen him since the Shadow Realm. He leads the thief in by the hand. Bakura's eyes do quick sweep before training on the staircase after not spotting Malik in the vicinity.
Mr. Mutou tenses.
"Sorry we're late," Anzu comments worriedly, gauging Mr. Mutou's reaction to Bakura. "It took us longer than we thought."
Yugi and I do a double take when Ryou's father enters behind the thief.
"Is this all right?" Anzu fidgets.
"I hope you don't mind I tagged along," Mr. Bakura states. "I know we're a crowd…"
"You're welcome, Charles," Yugis' grandfather says in attempted cheer. "No trouble at all."
The thief seems to notice Mr. Mutou for the first time. I'm ready to block him. Force him to leave. The reddish brown eyes are intense, but it's more of apprehensiveness. There's no animosity or threat in Bakura's stare.
"You're not all coming with, right?" Yugi casts a nervous glance around the group.
"No, I wasn't expecting to meet the boy if he's not up for it," Ryou's father says quickly. "Just along for moral support. Also, it came to my attention that none of these three have a driver's license. I didn't want them taking a cab back so late."
I don't catch the response, the attempts at casual conversation, too focused on what's happening in front of me: Jounouchi's injured fingers tighten with Bakura's; assuring, encouraging, telling him to wait. And Bakura does.
"He's had a long day," Mr. Mutou says stiffly, as a way of warding off the thief.
Yugi bites his lip. He and I can feel the turmoil churning in Malik. It's progressed through the day to a paralyzing despair. I realize now I made a grave mistake in asking him. Even if it's not something he would ever say yes to, the offer to escape all of this would be sorely tempting.
"Maybe I should ask again…" Yugi begins.
"Please."
It's said so quietly, with so much self-control. No menace. Just quiet desperation. My jaw slackens to hear Bakura say such a word to someone who he does not know or respect. Yet here he is asking this of Mr. Mutou and Yugi. Hells, he rarely spoke it to me. Mr. Mutou stiffens, as surprised as I am by the quiet entreating of the thief.
"Can't you at least let Baku try?" Jou asks on Bakura's behalf. "If it's too much, we'll go. We won't push it."
Nobody moves. All eyes are on Mr. Mutou. All except mine.
"Very well. Go on then," Mr. Mutou caves out of concern for Yugi and the blonde yami, stepping into the room.
Jou and Anzu perk up. Bakura's expression has changed, tension knitting his brow along with a glimmer of uncertainty.
"Follow me," Yugi beckons, Jounouchi and Bakura trailing him to the stairs.
I make to follow and Anzu steps in front of me, a hand resting on my chest.
"Yami."
I swallow whatever comment was resting at the tip of my tongue. She's right, of course. The fewer people up there the better. And there's nothing I can do to help the situation. Shaking my head, I turn from her and go back to the coffee table to try and concentrate on the puzzle.
"I'll make us all some tea," Mr. Mutou says, retreating for the kitchen.
"Let me help," Anzu offers.
I sink down on the sofa with a sigh. There's a ripple in the energy around me. Mahaado knows the thief is here and is not happy. I push him back without a word, making a point that now is not the time.
"I say, what's that you're working on?" Ryou's father asks from behind me.
This is going to be a long evening.
(Bakura's POV)
"Anzu was sayin' it's some type of hypersensitivity?" Katsuya asks lowly as we tread up the first flight of steps.
"Yeah. More like he's been numbed to everything for so long that it feels like it. We've noticed it's especially bad with loud noises and strong touch."
I vaguely hear them talking as we round the bend and head up the second flight of stairs. It's just wide enough that Katsuya and I can stay side by side. Even with my heartbeat racing, I am more eager than afraid. I don't know what to expect. I've been in a state of shock since the girl told us that Malik was purged of Shadows.
"So you really are connected to him?" Katsuya asks a question that latches me back onto the conversation, wanting to know what role the short teen is currently playing.
"Yeah." He pauses a moment and tugs at the neckline of his shirt, stretching the material until hieroglyphs are visible in his flesh. "I'm going to be in the room to help him if he needs me."
Katsuya's grip tightens as his expression becomes downright horrified at the sight of the carvings. I'm not really affected. I've seen them before.
"Yug…"
"I'm okay, Jou. Really," the boy begins walking again. We follow. "Don't go beating yourself up over this. Malik should have been freed a long time ago. It was just no one knew how to do it. I happened to have the right set of circumstances to get it done."
Guilt wells in my gut. I can't squash it. It does me no good. If I had the opportunity I would have done whatever necessary to rid Malik of the Shadows. A voice inside of me badgers that I should have tried harder, should have gone hunting for the answer instead of wallowing in my own misery.
The hikari stops outside of a closed door and taps on it. There's no answer from inside. The teen manages a wince of a smile.
"Just wait a minute. Let me prepare him. He might be sleeping."
He slips in alone. I stare the door, ears straining for some sound, desperate to hear Malik's voice. Yugi's is just a slight droning, too muffled for me to catch any words. The lack of verbal reply from Malik makes me half-wonder if this is all a joke at my expense. That's what I'd think if Katsuya wasn't here.
"Are you up for this?" Katsuya asks quietly.
I can't form words to answer him. He'd backed me into a corner when they asked me to come; mentioned how I said I know Malik better than Marik does. Still, that doesn't prepare me for this. Nothing could. I have no idea what I'm about throw myself into. What I'm going to find or not find. Who he is now.
Katsuya watches me with concern and tries again.
"Yug and I will be here. Is that all right?"
I nod numbly, having no idea if it will be all right or not. Am I about to make a huge mistake walking in there? What if I am wrong in doing this? What if he doesn't want to see me? What if this makes things ten times worse? They're hoisting all of their hopes on me not fucking this up.
Then the door is open. Yugi is stepping aside and Katsuya is gently pushing me in. There's a jarring feeling of not seeing properly; a pale beam red sunlight shining down on the bed through the skylight. The rest of the room is dark.
The lone figure is at the head of the bed, two or three feet from the light. I move forward alone, making my way around the side of the bed so I can come beside him. He's huddled with his legs pulled up against his chest, peering above his arms crossed over his knees. He doesn't say anything or acknowledge me. As I kneel down beside the bed so we are at level my stomach turns in a summersault.
I haven't seen those eyes in three thousand years. They're missing whatever it was the Shadows did to him, even when not in full possession. They gave him an edge but also made him incapable of experiencing anything to its fullest extent. Unfortunately, that means he's feeling all of it now at once. He gazes back at me, shivering at the strain the mere action of making eye contact causes him.
It's really him.
"Damn it, Malik," I whisper, my emotions a churning mess of anger, worry, grief, and overwhelming relief. "What were you thinking? What the fuck were you thinking?!"
Another shudder passes through him but he doesn't say anything. There's so much sorrow in that tired stare.
"I don't think…" the hikari begins.
"Baku…" Katsuya tries to warn me off of my current approach.
"Why?" I hiss in anguish as I grasp the bedsheets in my hands, eager to tear into something. "Why the hell did you do it? After everything I've done—No one would have blamed you for not acting. It was a stupid thing to do!"
It's a cheap shot. I know Malik. None of what he did surprises me. None of it.
Then something does happen that throws me: A tear slips silently down the side of his face. I rise and climb onto the bed.
"Wait! Don't touch him!"
I brush his bangs back and carefully slip my fingers in-between his hair and flesh so I'm cupping his face in my hands. The hikari and Katsuya's footsteps halt when Malik's arms unfold and his fingers lock around my wrists in a deathgrip. It isn't to stop me or to try to keep me away. He's clinging to me as if his life depended on it.
"You idiot," my voice cracks as I gently wipe at his tears. "That was the stupidest, most dangerous thing you've done to date. And that's saying something, Malik!"
"Yug, you're sure this is okay?" Katsuya whispers, and I hear because he can't do anything quietly to save his life.
"Umm…"
I lean in and press our foreheads together, making certain to keep my touch light. Malik flinches but doesn't try to pull away. I soften my tone.
"It was reckless and you shouldn't have done it." I breathe. "Thank you."
Malik raises his head slightly. Dark shadows line beneath his eyes. He's pallid and looks severely sleep-deprived, which Katsuya's friend told us is not the case. I think he's finally going to say something. At this point I'll accept anything—curses, gladness to see me, yelling at me for my own idiocy. I'll take whatever he throws at me.
"You came."
He breaks. It's quiet, but the jolts of his shoulders as he cries are enough. It's a horrible thing to witness. After all of the shit we've been through, I've never seen him like this. Never seen him cry. I'm yearning to hold him, to protect him; something I've always failed to do. I want to at least spare him the embarrassment of an audience to this but I'm afraid of the hikari leaving now. Malik's fingernails digging into my skin draw blood.
"Of course I came. I couldn't not," I say in our native tongue as a way of allowing us some privacy. "When they told me you were freed from the Shadows…Come over here before you collapse."
I lean against the headboard and place a pillow on my lap. Malik's muscles tense when my hands rest on his shoulder and press him down. The hikari opens his mouth to object. My fingers thread into Malik's hair and he releases a gasping breath and goes limp, curled on the pillow against my abdomen.
"Jou," Yugi beckons him away, having sensed a shift for the better in Malik. It's a different kind of surrender than they've seen with him. With them it's been out of necessity. This is actual comfort.
The two teens move to an empty spot of wall near the door and sitting on the floor to give us a little breathing room. I run my fingers through Malik's hair, watching him fight the tension with the help of the hikari. It's a reversal of earlier this summer when he held and comforted me. Even so, I feel like I'm failing him. I hate myself that it came to this, what all of us reduced him to.
"Can you forgive me?"
"I always do. Idiot," he rasps, somehow having gained some control of himself so quickly. I glance at the hikari and Yugi nods.
My lips quirk in relief at hearing something more Malik.
"You're all right?"
It's like a punch to my gut that Malik's bothering to ask even in his current state. Of course, that's Malik. He could have metal spikes sticking through his chest and he'd still ask if I was okay.
"I'm getting there," I say, feel his pulse slowing from its frantic rate as I gently knead the back of his neck. "Best I've been in a long time. So I think we should quit talking about me and focus on you."
"For what?" he asks dully, his fingers moving mechanically as if searching for something.
"To help you get through this."
"You can't."
"Maybe not like the hikari over there. But at least let me be here."
"…I left."
It's more than a statement. It's giving me permission to get up and leave, telling me I'm under no obligation to do this. It's remorse. An apology. An unnecessary one, as far as I am concerned. I know Katusya feels differently on that, but this isn't about him. I get the message behind the words: Malik doesn't think he deserves my help because, after countless fights, heartache and torture, he made the wrenching decision to put himself before me for once in our millennia of existence.
"It was one of the smartest decisions you ever made."
Hazy eyes wander to the two teens huddled next to one another silently on the floor.
"You're still with him."
There's a heaviness to the words. I can't blame him for not being thrilled. He hated Katsuya before the incident with the Shadow Realm. Malik no doubt knew it was the mutt who summoned the thing. Why would he be pleased now?
"Yes."
I don't defend myself or my choices. It isn't the time for that. Hell, we can have a big fight about it later.
I look down at his worn features. Yugi claimed Malik was worsening throughout the day but they didn't know why; thought it maybe had to do with Yami being here. Or stupid Mahaado. And while I can imagine that would shake Malik, I suspect there's more to it than that.
"I take it Yami asked you?"
"He did."
"And?"
"And when things get this shitty it's so damn tempting," he mumbles, unable to keep his eyes open as I massage his scalp.
"Then go to sleep. We'll deal with everything else later."
That earns a frail chuckle.
"Sleep's the only thing I'm good at anymore."
"Then shut up and do it already."
He's too tired to even jibe back. Releasing another shuddering breath, he settles in. It gives me opportunity to look him over. He doesn't appear to be hurt badly. I see a few faded bruises. He's not starved. They mentioned having to convince him to eat. Apparently a lot of basic things have been a struggle.
"He's asleep," the teen announces from beside Katsuya.
"That was fast."
"Aside from the link, what else is being done?" I demand quietly of the hikari.
"We're still sorting it out."
"What about Marik?" Katsuya asks.
Yugi eyes Malik with concern.
"They're not connected anymore."
"Yeah, but when will he be discharged? When can they be together again?"
"Marik isn't healing quickly. The Dark Magician…whatever he did, it's harder to come back from."
It complicates things. It's obvious with the amount of stress Malik's dealing with that he needs this hikari nearby. But what about when Marik is released from the hospital? Malik needs to be with that brat, too.
"I'm amazed he's letting you touch him," Yugi remarks, returning to the bedside with Katsuya. "He's been so jumpy at every little thing."
"He reacts if I apply much pressure," I reply grimly. "How was it with Marik?"
"Not good. Marik is…Marik. You remember how they are. How they were."
We all do. The kid always has himself plastered to Malik. Theirs is a very physical relationship. We have to figure something better out before the hikari is released from the hospital. Nothing will be a fix-all but Marik can only tone down his personality so much.
"What about medicine?" Katsuya asks as he places a hand on my shoulder.
"Unless there are drugs to lessen all physical sensations, I'm not sure how that will help," the hikari replies. "Besides, it's more than just that. He's pretty traumatized by all of it as a whole."
Katsuya's suggestion has stirred my memory. My own comforting numbness.
"What about what I'm taking?"
That earns me a puzzled look from the hikari. Katsuya's brow creases in concern, as if he's surprised I'd bring it up in front of his friend.
"It would need to be stronger. But they have stronger shit, right?" I continue when Katsuya doesn't answer.
"What are you talking about?" Yugi asks in mystification.
"Anti-anxiety medication," Katusya clarifies, his fingers skimming up and down my back.
Now the hikari is truly surprised. Don't know if this is something modern humans prefer not to talk about. If it's supposed to be embarrassing or hush hush. I don't care. It's working for me. If it could help Malik at all…
"I'm not talking about masking the symptoms," I say, frustration growing when neither of them gives an opinion on whether it could work. I don't know much about these things. "But it could help him to tolerate them until they hopefully subside."
"Malik's weird about a lot of modern stuff," Yugi says, not exactly sounding discouraged by the idea.
"You have the rod? You can influence the doctor or whoever we'd have to take him to?" I ask. The hikari nods, an eager light growing in his eyes. "Then you handle that. Leave convincing Malik to me."
Can you believe Malik and Bakura haven't seen each other since chaper 25? I don't even want to think about how many years' wait that was for you guys.
Originally when I finished up the final fight scene I was planning one just a chapter or two to quickly tie things up. Then, I realized it wasn't so simple. This fic begins in the real world, albeit with some magic, but it's not the focus. It involved being unable to fit into a different world, of being able to cope. So that has been the reason for these additional chapters. We are nearing the close. I have a checklist for things to-do.
I'd also like to state for the record that anti-anxiety medication is not a fix-all. But, having been on over 20 different psychiatric medications over the years, I find some of it appropriate given what Bakura and Malik have been through. Anyone who has severe anxiety or experiences trauma can confirm how helpful these drugs can be (when you find one that works for you).
