Wounded Hearts
Chapter 5:Why?
"My pharoah. The thief was no where to be found" Hakim reported.
Yami stood up, "NO!"
He began pacing.
"I want every officer to go and look for him, understand!"
Hakim nodded, "Yes Sire."
The officers left quickly, some rounding up the others. Hakim sighed as he thought on how to get this thief. He had no plan.
Yami looked at him curiously, "So what is your plan?"
The 'leader' froze instantly as he heard the words being spoken from his mouth.
'I am dead'
"Well..."
"Well? What is this plan of yours that makes you so confident when speaking to me, that you do not even bow to me?"
"Uh..." was all the soon to be dead leader muttered.
"Yes. I quite thought you didn't have a plan. You have displeased me Hakim, and this is not the first time."
"Well sire-"
"Silence! You have one more chance Hakim because I am merciful ... but displease me agin and you shall be punished."
"Y-Y-Yes s-s-sire." Before leaving the room, he bowed.
Yami rolled his eyes and sat back down on his throne, looking bored.
'The only reason I don't kill him, is because I don't have a replacement ... yet ...'
"Set! Bring me my wine ... I'm unhappy."
Marik silently stared out the broken window of the private room the bartender offered for the drunken Bakura to rest in. He remembered what his father did to him; remembered the beatings, the rapes ... everything. He then looked at Bakura who was sleeping in what seemed to be an uncomfortable position. He silently draped the raggy curtains to their original position so that no one could see him through the window.
Marik walked over to the bed, "Mr. Thief ...?"
He poked him gently on the ribs. Bakura slightly stirred but sleep soon followed again. Marik was getting to be impatient.
"MR. THIEF!!!!" Marik screamed.
Bakura continued sleeping like the dead. Marik huffed and walked away from his side. He was thinking of how he was to survive with this disgusting, irresposible, ignorant drunk, yet so handsome, fit, sexy...
Marik blushed furiously as he continued to think of these thoughts. Suddenly a slight rap woke him up from his thoughts.
Marik jumped, "Who is it?"
"Bartender..." the man grumbled.
"Why are you here?"
"The place is closed. You and your little friend need to get outta here." He jerked his thumb at the door.
Marik opened the door in shock, "WHAT!"
"You heard me. Get out!!"
"B-but ... aren't you his FRIEND? Don't you care when we have to go! What kind of bar is this? I didn't know you CLOSED!"
"I need my sleep!! After hanging around with drunk people and crowds of fights. I'll say it one more time, GET OUT!!!"
Marik whimpered and slowly nodded, "But only if you can wake Mr.Thief up. Hey, do you know his name?"
"Bakura." The bartender left going back to his stand.
'So Bakura was his name. It's so...exotic'
Marik smiled and walked back to Bakura. 'Well that's one thing I know about you.'
"Bakura? Wake up!"
Bakura stirred again slightly, mumbled something and went back to sleep"
"Bakura!!!"
His eyes fluttered open revealing chocolate orbs full of irratation.
"What!!"
"Uh ... hi."
Marik blushed.
This made his eyes narrow dangerously but Marik stood his ground. He was about to speak when a thobbing pain hit his head, slicing his head open like a knife,
This made his eyes narrow dangerously but Marik stood his ground. He was about to speak when a thobbing pain inside his head was becoming intolerable. He groaned inwardly but the expression on his face was set outward.
Marik looked at him with worry. He knelt down. "What's wrong?"
"Are you okay, Bakura?"
"I'm...fine." He tried to sit up but the pain increased. He stumbled back onto the hard bed.
Marik panicked, "BAKURA!! WHAT'S WRONG!! TELL ME!"
"I...just have a...headache....idiot!"
Marik's mouth dropped open, "Well excuse me for caring!"
"Whatever. Why did you have to wake me up boy!"
"Because the bartender says this dump is closed!"
"And my name isn't 'boy! It's Marik!" Marik added as an afterthought.
"Well...MARIK. You just tell that piece of shit that we're staying!"
"YOU tell him! I'm ... scared of him," Marik finished flatly before turning redder.
Bakura rolled his eyes and sat up. He met with the pain again but he ignored it.
Marik sighed, "So ... now that I know your name and you know mine ... how old are you?"
Bakura ignroed him and went over to the door.
"HEY! I asked you a question! Please answer ...?"
One glare shut Marik up.
Nonetheless Marik followed Bakura.
Bakura, in his stae of pain, stumbled over to the bartender, who's back was turned and gave a small tap on his shoulder.
A punch was soon followed.
Marik grabbed Bakura's arm, "Stop!"
He turned around to meet the furious Marik with a glare on his face. He too threw a glare back of his own but Marik's glare never ceased. He never saw the boy so angry; he thought it wasn't possible when it came to Marik.
"Why the hell are you so violent! EVER THOUGHT OF TALKING THINGS OUT?!? LET'S JUST GO!" Marik yelled at him.
Bakura looked at him, astonished. No one dared talk to the theif that way, he was the best and dangerous thief after all.
Marik's eyes looked angry, "I mean it! I've had enough of you."
Bakura growled slowly.
"I'm not afraid of you anymore! I don't care what you do, answer me! Why did you rescue me from my father?!"
Bakura remained silent, but is rage was still blooming.
"Answer me ... I need to know. Do you ... are you going to just use me? Then, leave me to die?"
'Please say no ... please say you want me too ... please don't say ... don't be like my father please ...'
Bakura stared at the floor. These stupid questions he kept asking were giving him a feeling inside him, which he never felt before. he was angry, confused, yet shy. Never before he had felt shy to a person. Never. And to add to his list of emotions, the headache got more violent with each nagging questions Marik asked.
"Well? Answer me!"
Bakura couldn't handle it anymore. The pain was getting worse by the minute. Before he and Marik knew it, he fainted.
A/N: Er ... Marik is a psycho ... I wanted to make him act the part. He's naturally a shy innocent boy ... but there's a dark part of him ... making him quick-tempered ... heh ... that's why it might be a bit confusing ... so yeah ...
I will stop ranting about my co-writer's poor use of grammar. Ok, thassit ... baiz! "wink"
R&R plz!
