Disclaimer: I still don't own Yu-gi-oh, and I somehow doubt I will own it anytime soon.
Author's Note: Rest assured, kiddies, Malik isn't dead, nor has he made his last appearance. I have plans for him. Heh. I don't really like this chapter, it was begging to be let out, but it doesn't flow the way the others do. Oh well. Enjoy, read and review!
Bakura chuckled to himself as he gently closed the door to the Ishtar residence behind him, happily tossing his new prize into the air and catching it again. The Sennen Rod caught the light, the stylized eye winking at him. He ran a thumb over its smooth surface and experimentally unscrewed the bottom, revealing the long, slender blade hidden within.
"The time is growing nigh, ou-sama," he giggled as he set off down the street, heedless of the passersby darting to keep out of the way of the madman with a bared blade. His stride was steady, belying the exhaustion he felt. He pressed the edge of the blade to his skin, delighting in the prick of pain and the line of blood that began to drip down his forearm. He grunted, lifting his arm and pressing his tongue to the coppery liquid, eyes fluttering shut momentarily in bliss.
The yami no game hadn't been easy, but he had walked away the victor, and Yami no Malik had been destroyed once and for all. He had spared the boy for now, simply because he did not pride himself in killing unconscious human beings. If they were not awake to fight back, to struggle, to cry and scream and plead, then he wanted nothing to do with their deaths. If they happened to meet their demise indirectly as a cause of his actions…well, he could not control everything, now could he?
He replaced the blade and tucked the Rod into his belt loop and giggled again, his crimson eyes flaring with excitement. He now had five of the seven Sennen Items, and his goal seemed to be dangling right in front of his fingertips and all he had to do was stretch a little bit and everything would fall into his hands. He hadn't even needed Anzu to get as far as he had, but he knew he would need her to get close to the Pharaoh.
And of course with Anzu came the pretty little songbird that had been his personal toy for the past two months. She never once denied him, and sometimes, he even thought she enjoyed his attentions. Her pleasure did not interest him, however; she was his to do with as he pleased, and he made damn sure she knew it.
Once in a while, he let yadonushi have a bit of fun as well.
He settled himself down marginally as he neared Anzu's house, though he did not erase the villainous grin from his face, his elation at his newest acquisition getting the best of him. Knocking on the door, he was surprised at the dancer's harried expression as she answered, her hair mussed and her eyes tired, clad in loose-fitting yoga pants and a sweatshirt.
"What's wrong?" he asked bluntly as he rudely pushed past her.
She paused, eyes narrowing as they caught sight of his shallow wound. "Shizuka is…ill," she said vaguely.
His brow furrowed. "Ill?"
"She has been throwing up every morning for the past few days."
Bakura paused on his way to the kitchen, glancing at the girl over his shoulder and quirking a snowy brow, his crimson eyes wide. "Really now…"
That's definitely interesting. The game has reached a new level, ou-sama. Whatever will you do now?
He chuckled as he opened the cabinets, searching for something to eat. Anzu did not seem to mind his rummaging as she leaned against the table, studying his reaction. She seemed rather disappointed at his calm, almost dismissive demeanor.
"I'm surprised you didn't notice." Her tone was more than a little condescending.
He shrugged. "Why would I?"
Indeed, why would you, she thought with a surprising bitterness. You're always gone by the morning anyway. I sometimes wonder what you are in this for.
"I'm going to the store to pick up a few things for Shizuka. Will you take care of her while I am gone?"
Bakura barked a laugh and spun around, drawing the Rod smoothly and unscrewing the bottom, placing the blade against the girl's exposed throat. She stiffened, hands clutching at the table tight enough to whiten her knuckles. Her blue eyes widened, her breath catching; she felt stunned.
He has the Rod. What did he do to Malik?
"Don't worry," he drawled, pulling back and sheathing the blade smoothly. "I'll take perfect care of her." He threw back his head and laughed before setting off towards the dancer's bedroom, waving the Rod around like a scepter.
Anzu frowned, hesitating before snatching up her bag and slipping out the door, somehow certain he would not harm the kit.
She was carrying his child, after all.
Anzu pursed her lips as she scanned the rows of crackers, each package desperately pleading for attention. She plucked a dark blue box away from its companions, studying it to make sure its contents were free of salt. Chucking it absently into her shopping basket she continued on down the aisle, lost in her thoughts.
With Shizuka in this condition, she would have to alter her plans. She could no longer use the girl so blatantly, and she could not risk any harm coming to her. Despite herself, Anzu had grown exceedingly fond of the kit, and the last time she had kissed the girl's tears away and promised to be there for her forever, she had meant it. Shizuka had started off as nothing more than a useful pawn, and had turned into…something else.
Anzu shook her head to clear her thoughts.
Things would be more difficult now, but she was sure she could manage, especially with Bakura on her side.
This caused her to frown pensively. Was he truly on their side, or did he have his own agenda he was pursuing? She couldn't bring herself to trust the boy, and found it disturbing that it was growing harder and harder to tell him and his lighter half apart. The line between omote and yami was blurring, and Anzu began to highly doubt that there had ever been much of a difference. The last time he had taken Shizuka, it had been violent, and even Anzu had walked away from that encounter with a number of fresh bruises.
His eyes had been brown the entire time.
Absently plucking a bottle of water off of the shelf, she spotted a tall, leggy blonde just ahead of her perusing a wall full of women's magazines. She stopped dead, hissing as her heart gave a painful lurch, her vision bleeding red for a few moments.
It was her.
It was that stupid, worthless bitch who had taken her love away from her.
That whore dared to go out in public after what she had done.
Her lips pulled away from her teeth in a silent snarl as she regarded the slender girl, hands trembling with the nearly overwhelming desire to snap the girl's neck right then and there. The dancer gradually regained her senses, a new plan flitting across her scattered thoughts and switching her ugly expression to one of near bliss, her blue eyes clearing.
She knew the perfect, perfect way to get back at Yuugi, and the key was standing right before her. She didn't know why it had not crossed her mind before, but she was not about to let the idea fly away. Plastering a friendly smile on her face, she called out the girl's name and walked over, keeping her tone light as she exchanged pleasantries and eventually got herself invited over for tea. As the two girls chattered animatedly while waiting in line, Anzu was barely able to suppress her anxiousness.
She would deal the Pharaoh a heavy blow today, and be one step closer to achieving her goal. Soon he would have nothing left, and he would look into the crystal blue eyes of the girl who loved him more than life itself, had sacrificed nearly everything to help him in his quest to regain his memories, and he would know true despair. He would feel the ground crumble beneath him, reaching out to her as he fell into darkness, consumed by grief as she laughed and refused him her hand.
Perhaps she wouldn't need Bakura after all.
Anzu forced herself to stillness as she lounged on Ayumi's flowered comforter, listening to the girl chatter on inanely. She twitched, watching the girl out of the corner of her eye, her patience growing thin.
Did the girl have any wits about her at all?
Her pulse began to beat rapidly as the girl walked over to her desk and turned on the radio, playing the pop music as loud as it would go.
How terribly convenient.
Ayumi glided back over to the bed, sitting down next to the dancer and smiling vapidly. She tossed her golden head and leaned in close, gravely informing Anzu of the newest in fashion trends. Surprisingly, Yuugi's name never crossed her lips once. Instead, all the girl seemed to talk about was clothing and music and school, bragging about the prestigious private academy she was attending in a neighboring town.
The girl shifted closer, and Anzu tensed.
"You know, you're really pretty," Ayumi was saying, dark blue eyes meeting a lighter pair. "You should wear more pastel colors to set off the color of your hair and perhaps begin to use some more makeup…"
Anzu tilted her head slightly, a wicked grin flicking across her features. Ayumi stammered to a stop, eyes widening as the dancer leaned in and kissed her, soft arms encircling the taller girl and pulling her close.
Her eyes widened more when Anzu's hands found her throat.
"You made him abandon us," she purred as she increased the pressure, delighting in the girls choking sounds. "You come in, swaying your hips, and he bends over backwards to please you. You ruined everything we had, everything I had worked so hard to achieve. You left us all alone, alienated him from the people who loved him the most. For this, you will die."She put up quite a struggle, Anzu had to give her that much. Her sweatshirt was torn, and she had a few scratches welling angrily across her skin, but as she gazed down at the still form of the little whore who had turned her world upside down, she felt that it was all well worth it.
Ayumi stared up at the dancer, her empty, glazed eyes accusing, once-perfect hair a tangled mess. It had been almost too easy.
"You should never have tried to take what wasn't yours," Anzu said softly, gently tracing the girl's cooling cheek and giggling. "He never did belong to you, you know. He's mine, and soon he will realize his mistake, but it'll be too late."
She ran her hand through the blonde curls, meticulously untangling the strands as the music pounded around her. She opened her mouth to continue but was interrupted by a quiet beeping.
Her eyes fell upon Ayumi's little pink cell phone, the caller ID glowing.
It was Yuugi.
Smiling, Anzu reached across the girl and picked up the phone.
"Ayumi?" she heard the Pharaoh's voice on the other line. "Ayumi, are you there? I had a bad feeling, and I had to call you. Ayumi? Ayumi!"
Anzu chuckled and hung up the phone.
"Too late," she said in a sing-song voice, running her fingers over her rival's chest. "Much, much too late…"
