LEITHO: Kazuke Takahashi, ui nin, ceredir uin edain ar uain nedh sa pent.

A/N: Ooh, Sindarin! Yeah, uhm, anyway...that's just mah disclaimer from now on. Typing that thing gets tedious; might as well do it in Elvish! Anyway, this chapter isn't beta'd, because...I got impatient (er, swamped) while working on other fics. So, until it IS beta'd and fixed, if you'd politely unfocus your eyes when you stumble across mistakes, I'd be very happy ^^

Responses:

LLYXIUS: LOL! Double meanings in everything I say ~.^ I mean, taking THAT meaning to "fell out", all of a sudden that whole scene is a lot more awkward for Malik, isn't it? D

SAILORSUN8: Yep, updates! Far between, though , The thing about Malik having such a rough time is mainly his perspective, though. He's focusing on how bad things are, so I'm not going into the good things that are happening to him...You'll see what I mean (I hope!) By the end of the fic.

BAKANEKO-CHAN: Yes, at this point, Malik gets a happy ending ^^ It started without an ending, and then it got a depressing ending, so it could change. Probably not. Anyway, here's six pages of some happiness to tide you over ^^

YESIM: *snicker* Just don't kill anyone REAL who's named Randy, k?

KYRENE: Lots more Bakura coming up in next chapter, and the chapter after that, and...you get it. I'm glad you liked the glass scene, too; I guess that means it wasn't brain-numbingly confusing?

BORATH: *tackle-hug* Sorry, just had to get that out of my system. I mean, you're my real-life Bakura! RLB. ^^ Love ya, dear; and I'm glad that you posted the second review. It has helped.

LOO-BAGEL: *likes your penname* You're a fan? *flattered* Thanks! *blush* LoL, your review of Music made me post this so much earlier than planned, y'know.

YAMI KRISSY: Yesyes, things will turn out okay. Very, very slowly, though. Hopefully it's enjoyable in the meantime!

CHROMEFOX: *still giddy from your review* I'm glad that you love Boraths' stories so much; she kicks ass, ne? And I'm glad that you reviewed! Very flattering ^^

WOODELF193: Not much Rishid-Isis-Malik stuff in this chapter, but I hope you like it all the same.

SHEESHASAN: Another review that helped me get this out before my other fics (one of which technically even has a due date .) was yours. This is a fic that will get finished, I promise that.

DJ SILENCE YUY: *presents Chapter Eight* ^.^



ChApTeR EiGhT

The Game Shop smelled like ink and paper, card board and candy. On Sundays, when small dueling matches were held, it also held the underlying feeling of creativity at work, of strategy being developed.

However, today was Wednesday, and today it was quiet and empty.

Ryou followed Yugi in, studying the back room which led to the Mutou home. He'd only been to Yugi's house once or twice before, and it seemed different each time. For instance, today they were greeted with the homey scents of chicken and chocolate cake, a combination that utterly confused Ryou's stomach.

Yugi toed off his shoes and continued on to the kitchen, where his mother was lacquering the cake with pale icing.

Yugi smiled, moving to stand next to her. "It smells great!" He didn't need to say more to make it clear he was begging for a taste.

She eyed him, then shook her head. "After dinner. Go entertain your guest."

Yugi tossed an 'I tried' look to Ryou. "Do you want something to drink?" He asked the other teen, then to his mother added, "He's helping me study for an exam."

"Oh, you're Bakura!"

Ryou smiled a bit. "Ryou Bakura, yes."

"You are most welcome to come by any time you think Yugi needs tutoring."

Yugi pulled two cans of soda from the fridge, handed one to Ryou, and went up a flight of stairs to his room. He flopped down on his bed, pulling his book bag up beside him. "Have a seat."

Quietly, Ryou pulled his math book out and handed a notebook to Yugi. "You've missed a lot of school...what chapter were you on last?"

"Twelve, I think."

Ryou's eyes widened a bit. "The test is on Chapter Eighteen."

"Oh." Yugi studied his socks, then shrugged. "Well, you don't have to teach me all the way to eighteen. You can go home whenever you want."

"We'll see how far we get tonight. You could have asked for help sooner; if not from me, I know Anzu would have helped you."

Yugi pulled a pen out of his bag. "I forgot all about the tests and chapters." He sighed. "Maybe I should have waited until next week to go back to school."

Ryou considered words of encouragement, but instead replied with, "Why were you gone for so long?"

The smaller teen shuffled through his notebook until Ryou gently pulled it away. "It's my other half, I guess. Yami. He's been...not different, but...he doesn't talk to me as much. He disappears for hours. Or, he was doing that; he's just stayed in his Soul Room since I stopped going to school. Maybe he didn't want me to know where he was going." Yugi clasped a hand over the front of the Puzzle. "But today he got me up and pushed me out the door, so I guess he's figured out what was bothering him."

Ryou nodded slightly, to be supportive, rather than out of understanding. He and his own yami never shared anything, really.

There had been at least a year where Bakura had been possessing Ryou's body, without the teen's knowledge. Those first years hadn't exactly been something to base an open friendship off of, especially with both of them as introverted and self-reliant as they were.

Scrawling the homework page number onto the paper, Ryou handed the notebook back and struggled to find something to say. "Your yami's good at dealing with problems, I'm sure that he'll pull through. He probably just doesn't want to worry you." The words sounded obvious and empty to him, but he knew it was probably the truth. Possibly a very oft-stated truth, if Yugi had spoken to anyone else about his problems.

Yugi frowned. "I know he doesn't want to worry me, I've felt the same way with my problems, but at least I didn't push him away. And he never likes me to keep things from him."

Ryou shrugged. "You know how they are. Whether they like it or not, they're going to protect us, with their after-lives if they must. They'd never think that they might need help from anyone; and besides, why should they ask for it from one of us?"

Yugi had known all of this, had thought and feared it many times already, but hearing it from another person only made it more real. Absently, he asked, "But if he won't talk to me...who else does he have?"***

Malik slept and dreamt, but of what he couldn't remember-the images vanished as soon as he sat up.

The door between his room and Isis's was open, just barely. He poked his head into his sister's room to find both of his siblings quietly preparing for work.

Malik walked in, wincing when his hand-the hand that had been used for the IV unit-brushed against the doorframe.

"Oh!" Isis jumped, seeing his reflection in the mirror. "Good morning. Do you want some breakfast?"

Malik shook his head at the offer, yawned languidly, and sat at the edge of one of the beds. "I'm fine, thank you."

Isis finished combing her hair into place and eyed him in the mirror. "How do you feel?"

As if I'm rotting inside out. I'm scared of pathetic old women wandering the halls. I don't know what I'm doing to myself every time I swallow one of those pills, and I can't stop, maybe not ever, because I've given control of my life, again, to something that isn't even alive.

"I'm fine. I slept well." Malik had kept his face blank during the icy rant in his mind. Now he toyed with the edges of the bandage on his hand. There was some sort of cartoon character painted haphazardly across the plastic strips.

After his mind was calmed, he decided to make himself comfortable. He laid back on the bed and turned on the television. Isis left ten dollars for him on the night table and then rushed out with Rishid close behind.

Malik found the show that his Band-Aid character had come from, watched it while eating a few handfuls of cereal, then went back to his room and took a shower. He'd barely tugged on his pants when he heard a hesitant rap on the door leading to the hallway.

He zipped up, "Coming!", cinched his belt and unlocked the entrance.

Yami peered up at him, frowning in surprise at Malik's half-dressed state. "I'm sorry, I should have called first."

"N-no, it's fine. Come in." He stepped back to let Yugi in, and snatched his shirt off the lip of the sink in the bathroom.

Yami examined one of the paintings on the wall, then turned to stare at Malik. "I wanted to talk to you about the record of my memories you have."

"My sister might be more useful for that." Malik had never enjoyed talking about his scars; even the mention of them made his back ache.

Dashing any hope that this had been a question about the stone tablet of the Unknown Priest and the Pharaoh dueling, Yami shook his head. "It's about the markings on your back."

"Oh. I'll help if I can." He slowly took his shirt off again and set it on Rishid's bed, assuming that Yami would want to be able to see the topic of discussion.

After a moment, Malik sat down on the bed and started to twine his shirt between his hands. "So. What questions do you have, Pharaoh?"

Yami was standing in a most confidently relaxed manner, and Malik envied him for it. He swallowed and looked at the un-vacuumed patch of carpet under the table, not sure what he felt beneath the jealousy. He wasn't really sure what he was supposed to feel, for that matter.

Respect was part of it-how could anyone defeated by Yami not have respect? And there was Fear-he was helpless mentally without the Rod, and weakening physically week by week. Hatred-he'd spent almost his entire life blaming Yami for the suffering of himself and his people. Misguided hate was as stubborn as hatred borne from reason.

But most of all his emotions, what did he feel? Shame? Humiliation? Was it possible to experience all of these things as one?

"What happened?" Yami's voice tugged him out of his introspection.

Malik looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"To your lip."

The blond touched the scab on his lower lip. He'd been cut by Isis's hand mirror, when he'd been drugged with Doctor Newton's pills, a fact that he felt distinctly embarrassed about now. But there were also pale gold-green bruises dotting his face, and rather than explain his hospital visit, he fell back on the jocks from the mall as an excuse for his injury. "I got in a fight."

Yami folded his arms and leaned his back against the wall. Malik wasn't the sort of person that one would think to hit; nor was he the sort of person who would accept being hurt if someone had got it in their head that he was an easy target. But he opted not to say any of that and returned with, "Ah. Are you alright?"

Malik nodded, waving off Yami's concern. Questions about his well-being were becoming repetitive, and he really didn't know how many more times he could take hearing those words. "You wanted to know about the carvings."

Yami's cool facade warmed a bit as he moved away from the wall to perch near the window. "I'm not sure it's complete."

Malik glowered and scratched his fingers through his soft, damp hair. "Well, of course not, it's mostly about your dealings with the God Cards." What was Yami expecting, a bibliography?

"But some things are missing."

The younger teen stiffened, feeling oddly defensive. "How would you know if anything was missing? The point of the Ishtar clan guarding your memories is that you don't remember anything."

"It's incomplete," Yami repeated stubbornly. "I didn't see any names mentioned; not any of the priests, not my name."

Malik could almost see his own eyes darken as he sneered. "Maybe my father didn't have room. Should have waited until I was older and my back was broader."

Yami was taken aback by Malik's sarcasm. He didn't back down but, diplomatically, he didn't continue their line of conversation.

Embarrassed by his childish outburst, but unwilling to find words for an apology, Malik ignored the stinging heat flooding his cheeks and turned so his tattoos were shown. "Have a seat. I'll try to walk you through this."

***

By the end of the hour, Malik knew that he couldn't tell Yami anything new. The Pharaoh was politely disappointed, and had thanked the young Egyptian earnestly, but there was no hiding the fact that Yami now felt he was trapped in a dead end. Resignedly, he'd gone to the museum, hoping to catch Isis before she left. Malik had assured him he had plenty of time.

This all left the seventeen-year-old with nothing to do, however. He eventually decided to try organizing the hotel rooms he and his siblings were occupying, since the maids usually only bothered to dust the televisions and scrub out the tubs.

Upon emptying out Rishid's small duffel bag, intending to put the clothes in the dresser and the valuables in his pockets-he was less than trusting with the maids, and made no secret of it-he stumbled across a familiar rectangular case, about the length of his palm.

He opened it, feeling strangely nervous, and his deck-minus any God Cards-tumbled out over his hand, some cards falling to the floor. After a shaky minute, he knelt and gathered the deck together, flipping through it with the fascination of one pawing through dark memories.

When he'd done this twice, and was about to go through it a third time, he was interrupted by yet another rap at the door.

After setting the deck down on the nearest bed, Malik yanked open the door so quickly the maid on the other side yelped. "Sorry!" She exclaimed, and held out a stack of envelopes. "These came for you."

Malik took them, grunted a "Thanks" and slipped back inside. There was a bill from the hotel, which Isis had been expecting for a few days now, and a coupon book and some junk mail. But what held Malik's attention was the small envelope addressed to Malik Ishtar, hand-written in spidery script.

There was no return address, and when he opened it he found no signature. It said, simply, "Medicine is waiting for you. Bring money to the bus stop outside the hotel."

***

The Kame Game Shop was reasonably close to the hotel where the Ishtars were staying.

This made Malik consider walking there instead of riding; he really did need to save the precious gallons of gasoline left in his motorcycle. But in the end, his need for the freedom of riding and the feel of wind encasing his body outweighed his worry over money, and he drove.

Yugi was stacking shelves when the Egyptian walked in. At hearing the small brass bells attached to the top of the door, Yugi balanced a carton of dice and smiled over his shoulder. "Welcome to-oh, hi, Malik!" He was actually looking down at the tall blond, thanks to his perch on a step ladder. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Malik slid a hand into his pocket and retrieved a stack of cards. "I want to sell these. The guys across the street gave me an estimate, but I want a second opinion."

Large violet eyes blinked in surprise. Slowly, Yugi climbed down, set the dice package on the counter, and took Malik's cards. "A-are you sure? I mean, this is your deck. It must have taken a long time to put it together."

Malik only nodded. "It has quite a few rare cards-I guess you know that already. But it's useless to me, since the only games I can play now are without any stakes. I need money."

Yugi was still thumbing through the deck, but he had paused when Malik spoke. "You don't play anymore?"

A shrug. "It's a game. I don't have time for it anymore. I'd rather have money now." He knew the Ishtar family had nothing more to offer this game; it was a bitter thought, and it took effort to make himself accept it.

"Well, I'll have my grandpa look at it for you. He knows more about prices than I do." Yugi set it on a shelf under the cash register. "Would you like to come over tonight and watch some movies Joey's bringing over? We'll have dinner, too."

"I...that would be fun."

Yugi smiled again. "Come over around six, okay? And I'll have grandpa look at your deck when he gets back from lunch."***

Isis had been thrilled when Malik announced his plans for the evening.

In a small way, that disappointed him; having her approval meant he had no excuse not to go. That wasn't to say he wasn't excited. He was. He'd never done anything like it, and that alone made it a novelty.

But he wouldn't just be with Yugi. Where the Game King went, so followed his friends. So even though Yugi had told him to come at six, he found himself on the Game Shop's doorstep almost an hour early.

Before he could turn around, call the whole thing off, pretend he'd never been invited... Sugoroku opened the door.

Trapped, Malik stammered out, "I'm looking for Yugi?"

Sugoroku opened the door a little wider. "Come on in!" His tone was welcoming, if a little shaky with age, but Malik found it a novelty. He was rarely greeted so...happily, and it had been a long time since he'd been in the company of anyone more than ten years older than himself.

"Thank you," the Egyptian said warmly.

"Yugi! A guest for you!" The old man hollered as soon as the door was shut.

Not long after, Yugi trotted into the room, holding an armload of cupcakes. "Hi, Malik!" He said, not at all surprised to see the blond so much earlier than expected. "This way."

And just like that, he was swept into the home of the Game King. The room in which they ended up was already bustling with Yugi's group of friends-except one, the brunet whose name Malik couldn't remember. Around the coffee table they were talking, or arguing, Malik couldn't tell which; the table itself was holding a stack of movies, a bowl of popcorn, bags of chips, and a liter of some sort of soda.

Yugi laid his cupcakes down on a clear spot and joined the small group.

Malik honestly couldn't gauge the other teenagers' reactions to him. Anzu had waved once, when he'd walked in, but that might have been directed to Yugi, who had slumped onto the couch next to Joey, who was busy reading the back of one of the video cases.

So, Malik took the middle ground, and sat down on the floor next to the sofa.

Anzu leaned over him to snatch the video out of Joey's hands. "We're *not* watching this one!" She said, firmly, and Yugi frowned a bit.

Joey tried to take it back but the girl moved out of reach. "Well, what *should* we watch?" To Yugi he added, "We can always stay up after she's gone home."

Malik idly took another video off the coffee table. 'The Fly'.

Puzzling over its meaning, he turned it over and studied the little pictures that ran along the description. Even more confused after his examination, he placed it back on the table and took another.

He found it to be much more interesting. "I vote this one," he told Yugi, handing it up. He wasn't sure if breaking the ice that way was a good idea; it might seem he was taking sides, against Joey no less, and he knew from experience that was a noisy, messy business.

But Yugi just took the case, stood up, and put it in the VCR. "We'll watch this one," he announced to his friends.

"We're not waiting for Tristan?" Joey asked, not sounding like he cared all that much that they were starting without the other boy.

Anzu shrugged. "He'll be here." With that, she opened the bag of pretzels and sat back to watch the movie.

Again to Yugi, Malik asked, "What about...Bakura? Ryou, I mean?"

"I don't know if he's coming or not," the smaller teen said quietly.

Malik turned back to the screen, but couldn't pay much attention to it. Joey was ignoring him, very devoutly. Compared to a few days ago, outside the cosmetics store (before Yugi had seen him collapse), this was a drastic change.

Shame crept up his neck as he realized that Yugi had probably told Joey about Malik's 'condition' to avoid any contention. Whether or not Yugi had invited him out of friendship was still in question, but was there any doubt that he was being allowed here out of pity?

His worries were slapped away by a flying box of donuts. Literally. He heard a shouted, "Heads up!" several seconds too late, and then laughter.

Uneasily Malik joined in the laughing, and set the donuts beside him.

Tristan leapt over the couch but ended up squishing Joey in the process. Predictably, a mock battle began, ending in a food fight when Anzu began throwing her pretzels at them.

"So, what're we watching?" Tristan asked, eyeing the screen.

"I think this one's like an Australian, live-action Bambi," Anzu said.

"It's Crocodile Dundee," Yugi laughed. "It's funny."

"Oh."

Yugi stood up and finally turned off the lights.