Okay, here's chapter 2! Read, review & enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.
Chapter 2: Enter Kaiba
"I can't believe you threw my shirt in the trash! It was my favorite," Marik whined for the hundredth time. Scowling at him, I picked up my curved switchblade and used it to saw through my extra-rare steak, and pink juice oozed out the sides. I then slowly licked the sharp blade, staring menacingly at Marik. Hopefully he got the message.
Marik sighed and went back to eating his pasta. We really had gone to a nice restaurant, but they had only let us in after I threatened the manager with a particularly gruesome death, and they still made Marik button his shirt. I might actually pay for this meal, just to confuse them.
As I contemplated this, I saw a long white trench coat flash past in the corner of my eye, followed by a bushy black head of hair. Oh, no- that could only be...
"Well, well, if it isn't the two psychos who ruined my Battle City tournament," Seto Kaiba snarled. His little brother, whatever his name was, crossed his arms and glared. "What are you doing here?" the bushy-haired little kid asked, in a pathetic attempt to sound like his big brother.
"Hey, Kaiba," Marik mumbled through a mouthful of pasta. "We're celebrating because we ripped off some fat old broad who happened to be really rich," he explained.
"By Ra, could you possibly be any more of an idiot?!" I exclaimed. Kaiba and his brother sniggered at my incredulous expression and I gradually reddened in anger.
"Relax. Like I care about that," Kaiba said scornfully. "You just better not try to steal anything from me," he threatened.
"Nah, we just want the Sennen Items. And to torture Yugi-tachi," Marik assured him.
"Marik, if you don't SHUT UP," I warned. But Kaiba started laughing. We all stared at him in surprise, and then the little Kaiba started laughing too, because he apparently copied everything his brother did. (How did Kaiba stand that?)
"By all means, go right ahead; I won't stop you. Just don't ask me for help or anything. Actually, I'd kind of like to see you torturing the mutt and that friendship girl," Kaiba drawled.
Maybe Kaiba was cooler than I thought. "Er...okay then. I'll send Marik to tell you about it when we're through," I offered.
Kaiba rolled his eyes disinterestedly. "Whatever. Come on, Mokuba," he said tonelessly, and he swept away, with the kid trotting at his heels.
Marik slurped his pasta noisily, and I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "You know, Kaiba would make a good ally, if we could convince him to join us," Marik commented. I watched the Egyptian swipe sauce from his face with the sleeve of my borrowed shirt and I frowned. I couldn't handle any more idiots.
"No, I think we should keep it just the two of us," I replied.
Marik grinned at that.
That evening I sat on the couch, sharpening my knife, while Marik lounged beside me lazily. "You should really get a television," he sighed. "This is boring."
"Well, they didn't have television in ancient Egypt, and people survived just fine," I snapped.
"I didn't have it either- or any technology for that matter, until I killed my father..." Marik mused. My attention perked at this statement.
"What? I didn't know that," I said in surprise. I glanced at the blonde beside me, and he gazed back at me through half-lidded violet eyes. He had unbuttoned the borrowed shirt again, but hadn't offered to return the garment; maybe I would just let him keep it. It looked better on him, anyway. (Not that I'd ever admit that aloud.)
"Well, my Yami was the one who really did it, but since I made him, I guess it was my fault. Like a split personality or something. Anyway, my father tortured me and carved these symbols in my back with a heated knife, just so I could help the stupid Pharaoh. I'm glad he's dead," Marik explained, as his violet eyes darkened in anger and he clenched his fists.
For a long moment we sat in silence, as I watched Marik fume over the memory of his father, until the angry flush in his tanned cheeks slowly subsided. Marik glanced at me thoughtfully for a second; then he added slowly, "I never apologized for betraying you, Bakura. I am sorry, though. The reason I took the Pharaoh's side in the first place was because my psychotic Yami made it clear that my choices were either him or the Pharaoh. So I had to choose. But after a while, my options...expanded, I suppose, and I took back the Rod."
Marik brandished the Sennen Rod, smirking happily, and I grinned a little in spite of myself. "Well, you still didn't have to give him my Ring," I complained sourly. Marik just shrugged, and the button-up shirt slipped from the edge of his shoulder.
"Hey Marik?" I asked cautiously. "Can I see your back?"
He contemplated for a minute, studying my face, before he slowly nodded and slid out of his shirt. Marik turned his back to me, and I could see the tension straining his shoulder blades as I examined the Egyptian symbols etched in his back. He obviously was self-conscious about his tattoos; though it was hard for me to believe the constantly half-dressed blonde would be embarrassed about anything to do with his appearance. I wondered vaguely how much of compliment to me it was for Marik to show me his back.
"So these markings are supposed to help the Pharaoh, huh?" I asked, idly tracing the raised tattoos with an index finger. Marik's father really did deserve to die for torturing a child like this; those scars must have been deep.
"Y-yes," Marik stuttered nervously, as I ran my fingers along his back. I smirked at his reaction and leaned closer so that he could feel my breath against his skin. Marik was such a fruit sometimes, I couldn't resist provoking him.
"You know, I can read ancient Egyptian," I breathed against his neck. Marik's breath hitched.
"R-really?" he asked, in a slightly higher pitch than normal.
"Mmm-hmm," I murmured, and slid my index finger down the small of his back, all the way to the waist of his low-rise pants. "But it doesn't really say anything; just that the nameless Pharaoh needs the three god cards to unlock his power, and the Pharaoh's had the god cards for a while now without anything happening." I slipped my hands up to Marik's bare shoulders and began massaging them gently, until I felt him relax under my touch. He moaned softly and I immediately pulled my hands away and climbed from the couch.
"So, what do you think about that?" I asked conversationally. Marik just stared at me through glazed eyes.
"What?" he replied stupidly. "Think about...what?"
"If you're not going to pay attention, why should I bother talking to you?" I snapped, and stomped up the stairs to my room, snickering under my breath.
The next morning I sat at the kitchen table, grumbling to myself as I drew out new plans to capture the Sennen Items, when Marik came stumbling downstairs, yawning widely. He wore only his boxers and my slightly rumpled button-up shirt (open, of course). "Don't you have another shirt?" I snapped, and threw a balled-up sheet of paper at his head. It stuck in his hair and he left it there.
"I like this one... Coffee?" he mumbled. I pointed to the coffeepot and he smiled gratefully and shuffled away, humming softly in Egyptian. Marik yawned as he poured the coffee, and stretched, scratching his head to finally dislodge the ball of paper. His slender fingers threaded his blonde locks, smoothing them, until they paused suddenly. "Bakura? What is it?" Marik asked, eyeing me worriedly.
I blinked. Had I been staring at Marik? Great. He was turning me into a fruit, too.
"Bakura?" Marik asked again.
"It's nothing," I replied hastily, and lowered my gaze to the stacks of papers on the table before me. Despite myself, I felt heat rising in my pale cheeks, and I quickly shook my long, white hair over my face so Marik couldn't see.
"So, how are the plans coming? Any more ideas on how to steal the Ring back?" Marik asked, plopping beside me. He shuffled through the papers and skimmed them rapidly. "Bakura..." he breathed, eyes widening.
"What?" I snapped, still angry at being caught staring.
"Why are most of these just tic-tac-toe scribbles?"
"I got bored," I muttered.
Since our plans for world domination and the reclamation of the magical Sennen Items had been put on a short hiatus (okay, so we had no friggin' clue what to do), Marik and I decided it would be fun to try to steal a television, and maybe some other hardware while we were at it. Our plan was simple- Seduction by Marik.
We rented a storage facility downtown to temporarily store our stolen property, since it would be too heavy to carry all at once, and scouted the area for a hardware store manned solely by females (and yes, I know that's a contradiction in terms). Finally, we strode casually into a mostly deserted Radio Shack, where a couple of teenage girls sat behind the counter filing their nails. Marik hitched his thumbs in the back of his low-slung pants, catching the open button-up shirt with his arms and exposing his entire chest. The girls glanced over at us and started chattering madly.
"Ooh, he's so cute!" one giggled. She batted her heavily made-up eyelids and brushed back her long, red hair.
"I know!" the other, a blonde, replied. "Look how light his hair is! I wonder if it's as soft as it looks."
I gave Marik a minute nod, and he posed in the middle of the store, pretending to examine a laptop, while I snuck toward the televisions. The girls cornered me. "May I help you?" the redhead breathed, resting a hand on my shoulder. I glanced down at her chipped nails in surprise.
"Er..."
"No! May I help you, sir?" the blonde interrupted, shoving the other girl out of the way. "My name's Stacy, what's yours?" she added.
"Uh, Bakura," I replied, too startled to bother lying.
"Bakura," the two sighed in unison. "That's so exotic," the redhead said dreamily. "Where are you from? Is your hair naturally that white?"
"Well, my friend Marik and I are both from Egypt," I said meaningfully, glancing over my shoulder to where Marik had been.
He had disappeared.
"What? Where did that fool go?" I growled. I shook off the girls' hands and ran out of the store, looking in all directions for the blonde deserter. When I heard a noise coming from the corner I paused, and saw Marik propped back against the brick wall, doubled over in hysterical laughter and clutching his chest.
"Shut up!" I snarled. "I can't help it that they liked me better than you!"
"Bakura, that's so exotic," he mocked, between chortles. Slowly his laughter faded and he examined me thoughtfully. "You know, I agree with them about one thing," Marik said.
"What?" I growled in irritation.
"I have always wondered if your hair is as soft as it looks," he replied.
"You are such a fruit," I grumbled, and stalked away. I heard Marik clamber to his feet and assumed he would follow me, so a jolt of surprise ran through me when I realized the sound of his footsteps had faded. Whirling around, I saw Marik's faint figure strolling casually three blocks in the opposite direction.
"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, drawing curious stares from a group of women passing by. I gave them an evil glare and they scurried away (but not before I stole their wallets- heh heh).
"WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE, BAKURA?" Marik called in return. He stopped in his tracks, looking slightly annoyed, and observed my thin, pale figure glaring after him. At his reply, my cheeks flamed in anger and I spun back around and continued stomping toward the house, not bothering to reply.
I didn't care. He could do what he wanted. I wasn't worried about the stupid traitor.
I glanced at the clock and growled, resuming my frantic pacing of the purple living room. It was almost dawn and Marik still hadn't returned, which REALLY ticked me off. Where could he possibly go that would take this long? Maybe he decided to betray me again and spent the night having a goofy best-friends party with the Pharaoh and his idiot friends. That thought made me snicker, until a new idea occurred to me.
What if he was dead? Or hurt?
Perhaps he tried to steal something and got caught, since he still falls well short of my thievery skills, and he was put in jail, or got into a fight... I grabbed my keys and yanked open the door, suddenly deciding to go search for him, but as I barreled through the front door I collided painfully with the object of my search himself.
"Marik, where in the world have you been?" I growled, as soon as I caught my breath. He scowled, rubbing his chest where I'd winded him considerably.
"Once again, Bakura, why do you even care?" he grumbled. I narrowed my eyes dangerously and he sighed before continuing. "I went to visit Kaiba; I thought he might have some ideas on how to get your Ring back, since he's supposed to be a genius."
"And you had to stay with him until four A.M.?" I hissed.
"No, but I wanted to... He is really good-looking, you know," Marik sighed dreamily.
Okay, that proves it. I KNEW Marik was gay. But for some reason the thought of him and Kaiba really pisses me off.
"MARIK ISHTAR! You mean to tell me I was up waiting for you until nearly dawn while you were having some kind of date with Kaiba?!" I cried. My eyes narrowed into tiny slits and my fingers twitched toward my trusty switchblade, but Marik interrupted me with a short bark of laughter.
"Get real, Bakura. Anyway, I think he has a thing for the Pharaoh- there was a picture of him on Kaiba's desk," Marik sniggered.
A chuckle escaped me in spite of myself. "Really? You know, in a way I can see that- they're both stuck-up jerks," I replied with a grin.
Marik grinned in reply and yawned loudly. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said. "Kaiba had some fairly decent ideas, too; but I'll tell you in the morning, because I'm going to bed now." Marik climbed the stairs and disappeared into his room, calling "Good night, Bakura!" over his shoulder.
I snorted audibly, but smiled to myself.