Okay, I was reading over the last chapter and found a few more mistakes. I hope they weren't on but if they were, sorry. I extra check'dis one, I swear!
Chapter 5: Death or Submission, Revisited
"Um," Malik said hesitantly at the breakfast table, "Are you okay, Ryou?"
Ryou perked up at the sound of his name, looking surprised for a moment at the blonde. "What?"
Malik flashed Bakura a hesitant look, then looked back to his friend. "I asked if you were okay... You've been distant this morning."
Bakura leaned back in his chair, balancing it on its back two legs, and crossed his arms behind his head. "Aw, leave him alone, Malik. It's not every day he shares a house with two yami's and a bubbly blonde."
Malik immediately grimaced. "Who are you calling "bubbly"?"
The thief raised a brow. "Well I sure wasn't referencing to that stupid shadow-dealer."
"Please don't fight, you two," Ryou implored. "Honestly, I'm fine. My mind was just wandering."
Yes, wandering to thoughts of a certain shadowy Egyptian...
"Come to think of it, where is Marik?" Bakura wondered aloud, though he didn't really seem to care. "I mean, he's missing out on these..." he glanced at the box, "Fruity Pebbles," he said in regards to the cereal on the table. "Ra knows you can't live without those," he teased tiredly.
"Marik hasn't bothered you, has he?" Malik asked seriously. "I couldn't find him this morning."
"Oh no," Ryou lied, putting on a fake smile. "I haven't seen him."
"Really..." Bakura said skeptically.
"That's the truth." He stood up and began to clear the table of the dishes; somewhat worried that Marik hadn't joined them to at least eat something. He had to remember though that Marik liked to go solo so socializing wasn't one of his strong points.
"Well then, where is he?" Malik questioned, looking shortly around the house. "It's not like he could just vanish."
"I've seen it happen before," Bakura quietly voiced.
"He's outside," said Ryou quietly, filling the sink with water.
"Does he actually prefer the cold to warmth?" the blonde inquired skeptically.
"No," Bakura said suspiciously. "Not an Egyptian-born fool like him. Pure bloods like us will take hot to cold any day."
Ryou placed one of the sparkling glasses away. "I think... he just likes the cold because it numbs him, and he no longer has to feel, well, anything. It's his heart," he suddenly stopped, "He feels like he has to be in the cold because of his own bitter heart."
Malik was slightly taken aback. "And since when did you start analyzing Marik?"
"Since this morning," Bakura answered, a smirk daunting over his features, "When he did indeed see Marik."
"You did?" he said, utterly shocked.
Ryou swallowed hard. "...I did."
"Yep," Bakura nodded knowingly, a perturbed glance on his face. "You said you hadn't seen him, then you turned around and said that he was outside. Marik is up to his old games..."
"Games?" Malik and Ryou said at the same time.
"And you're falling right into his trap, Ryou. Don't you think Marik knows what he's doing, that he's using you as his pawn to get to the Queen? And once he has her captured, I'll just bet he'll move in to kill the King..."
Malik frowned. "What on Earth are you talking about?"
Bakura glared darkly. "You know, don't you, Ryou?"
Ryou sighed sadly. "Once he has Ryou, he's going after Yami."
It felt so strange saying his own name as though it were another person, but after what Marik had said earlier that morning, why not? What if he really was just a "vessel" for someone else? It's not like he'd be leaving much behind...
"Precisely," the thief answered. "And be forewarned that he will use any means necessary to make sure he does. He wants that bloody pharaoh dead; we just have to convince him that Yami's somewhere else, and somewhere we don't know. The last think we need is Marik blowing up the world just to kill some pharaoh."
"He wasn't just some pharaoh," Ryou defended. "He was my friend!"
"...Was?" Malik repeated, giving him an odd glance.
"Oh, I mean is," he rubbed his forehead. "I'm not sure why I said that..."
"I almost want to commend Marik," Bakura said wryly. "You're practically eating out of the palm of his hand. I allowed this little charade to go on in the past, but not now. Things were different back then... we were both different."
A certain amount of sadness could be heard in his voice as he spoke and Malik suddenly felt horribly culpable.
"I died... didn't I...?" It was more of a statement than a question.
Bakura closed his eyes. "You did."
"In Yami's palace?" Malik's face was heartbreaking.
"The first time."
Malik gasped. "I died twice?"
Bakura nodded, finding it hard to vocalize his answer.
"Well, how did I die the second time?" he asked tentatively.
The thief sat back quietly, running that sentence through his head again. The second time?
...The second time...
o-o-O-o-o
"Wow Bakura!" Malik smiled, looking at some of the jewelry in a nearby tent. "Some of this stuff is really beautiful, don't you think?"
Bakura arched a brow, simply glancing at the items then facing forward again. "If you say so. I'd rather be looking at gold, and lots of it, and preferably gold that was my own, because we do happen to be broke, Malik."
"I don't think so," Malik smiled fondly. "We're richer than all of the people around us."
Bakura put on a dumbfounded look. "How do you figure that? We've barely had a decent meal since we left Marik's hideout. I think I'm actually beginning to envy the bastard."
"No," Malik took ahold of his companion's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Our stomachs may be empty, but our hearts are full of love. As long as we have that, we'll be fine."
The former-thief simply rolled his eyes. "You are a hopeless romantic."
"And you are positively just plain hopeless sometimes. Let's just leave the city, Bakura," he begged playfully. "We'll be the duo that goes down in history for living on love and the bread we harvest ourselves!" His eyes almost seemed to twinkle with determination.
"Man cannot live on bread alone," Bakura said dryly. "Why are you still so anxious to leave?"
"You were too not too long ago, if I remember correctly. Remember? We did happen to find those particular blue jewels..."
"Serpent's Eye Jewels of Osirus," he mumbled. "But honestly, Seth probably wasn't going after Ryou. You shouldn't stress yourself so much. They say it's bad for the skin."
"I'm not worried," Malik added. "You already calmed me of that fear, but still..."
After finding the sapphire gems, it was Bakura's every intention to get Malik away from that city as soon as possible. He honestly had intended to do that. But... his thieving side got the better of him and he suddenly remembered the particular golden Items he was there to retrieve. Easing Malik's fears about the situation eventually happened, but it wasn't that lie he felt bad about...
He had feigned curiosity throughout the whole course of their relationship with regards to the Millennium Items. How could he just tell Malik the truth? That 100 souls were thrown into a pot along with gold and then just melted down for the purpose of creating those seven cursed objects? Not to mention the fact that the souls were of his village, his people, his family! He just didn't want to drag Malik into all of that drama.
"Bakura, are you listening to me?" Malik asked with a smirk.
"Hm?" he blinked. "Of course."
"What did I just say?"
"Um, that you wanted me to buy you that gorgeous pendant you've been eyeing?"
"Wrong," he couldn't help but laugh. "What pendant?"
"This one?" Bakura held up a golden necklace suddenly.
Malik's eyes widened. "Bakura, where did you get that!"
"I borrowed it from one of the tents. Don't you want it?"
"You promised you wouldn't steal anymore!"
"That's why I borrowed it. Don't you trust me? I was really going to pay for it."
Malik crossed his arms. "I'm sure you were. Bakura, you cannot keep that."
Bakura frowned, gazing longingly at the beautiful and expensive treasure. "I wasn't going to keep it. I was..." he looked around and pointed, "Going to give it to that little girl."
"What?"
Bakura trudged over to a small girl who sat with her younger brother on the ground. Their clothes were worn and their cheeks were sunken in slightly from hunger. Their parents were probably working or, sadly, dead. "Here you are," Bakura nearly fought himself to hand the child the luxury but when she faced him with confused eyes, it suddenly became easy. "You can bring that to your parents and they can sell it for money."
"For me?" she inquired in shock, almost afraid to hold such a pricey thing. "I cannot accept this, sir."
"Yes you can," Bakura straightened up and sighed. "It's a gift."
"A gift?" she repeated, her voice weak.
"Yes," Malik nodded. "And here, take this." From his cloak he pulled a small basket and handed it to her as well. "There's some food in there as well. It's not much, but it will do for tonight," he grinned charitably, "Or at least until your parents get the money from that necklace."
The girl's eyes suddenly filled with tears, but she refused to cry out loud. "Thank you so much. You two are very kind! Let's go, brother."
She helped her sibling to his feet and they ran off quickly.
Bakura ran a hand over his face, trying not to get angry. "Do not tell me that you just gave them the rest of our food from Meera."
Malik beamed. "I just gave them the rest of our food from Meera. I couldn't help it. They reminded me of myself when I was younger, except no one did anything nearly as honorable as what you did for them."
Bakura looked clueless. "And what was that?"
"I know how hard it is for you to part with one of your treasures... but you still gave them that necklace. Every day you surprise me more."
"Malik, we now have absolutely no food. Is that registering at all with you?"
"We'll manage, Bakura. You shouldn't worry so much."
"I have to worry for both of us."
"You're the one who told me that everything would be all right." As odd of a gesture as it was, he leaned up and patted Bakura on the head. "I trust you."
Bakura felt very bad all of a sudden. Malik trusted him and here he was, probably endangering them by stalling their time in the city, and for what, a few items that he knew would bring him nothing but sadness? Malik had trusted him and told him his past, but Bakura still kept things in the dark. Was that fair?
"C'mon, Bakura!" Malik yelled, already a few paces ahead of him. "Do you want to get left behind?"
Bakura gave him a wary look. "Stay close to me, Malik. It's not safe to wander."
"You are such a worry-wart," he joked. "You're almost foolish to think anything could happen, you know."
"Yes, well," he walked in step with the blonde, "You can never be too careful, and I am not a worry-wart!"
Malik grinned, "You are too."
Bakura settled with a grin and thought again whether or not he should've told Malik the truth. Would it really have made a big difference? One thing was for sure, he most definitely wouldn't have been feeling as accountable as he was presently.
Then, a glint not too far off caught his sight. Glancing away to see what had caused it, a dark smile suddenly spread athwart his face. The palace... There it was, and so close. The Items were practically in his grasp!
But subsequently, a horrified scream shook him from his thoughts and he looked up to see the two chariots that were racing towards him. Unexpectedly, he couldn't move. He found himself staring into the eyes of his death. There was no way he would be able to clear the path in time...
Why even try?
The next few moment were a blur. Bakura felt himself pushed, and he almost thought he had been hit, but the touch was too light. He hit the ground hard, sliding a few feet, and cutting up his right cheek something awful. Pain coursed through his body but for a moment before the world stopped spinning and Bakura opened his eyes. Sitting up painfully, he struggled to stand and ended up leaning on a nearby cart.
What exactly had just happened? He was going to die... He saw the chariot... He saw death... Had the gods suddenly decided to spare his life and push him out of the way? That was the only way he knew to describe it. The hands that had touched him but for one moment, were gentle, they were hands he knew. His life had been spared.
"By Ra, Malik," he groaned, "That hurt like hell but I made it... Sorry if I worried you..."
When no response came, he looked up, slightly still dazed, but the dust and dirt that had been kicked up by the horse hooves and spinning wheels was still quite thick.
"Malik? Are you in there?" He asked again, finally wobbling his way toward the center of the street. Thank goodness the dust began to settle finally, for as it had previously stood, Bakura wouldn't have even been able to find himself.
"Malik?" he said once more, worry edging his voice.
And then he finally saw him. His body lay not too far from him; his hood had fallen and his beautiful golden locks tumbled gracefully onto the sand and over his face. Bakura ran to him. No matter how bad it hurt, he made it to him in a short while and had fallen by his side instantly. "Malik, are you okay?" he said nervously, face showing it now.
Bakura was almost afraid to touch him. It seemed wrong to stir him, like he had been sleeping. Yes... sleeping. He had to be sleeping...
Picking him up gently, he brushed the hair from his eyes wishing more than ever now to hear him scolding him about stealing, or lying, or being mean. Anything...
"Malik, wake up," his voice cracked. "Oh Ra, wake up!"
He held the small frame to his chest and began rocking him, totally unaware he was even doing it. This was not happening... Malik couldn't be dead... He was just fine, just telling him everything would be okay. He was just... by his side.
"It was you," he suddenly said, pulling Malik back to look at his expressionless face. "The gods didn't save me, it was you!"
And in that moment, Malik might've been a god. His skin was unmarred, his hair was perfect, but his eyes still remained closed. His long eyelashes played gently over his golden skin, but his eyes did not open.
"This is my fault," he muttered inaudibly. "Why did I convince you to stay? Why didn't we leave when you wanted to? Why did you have to meet someone like me?"
"You're the one who told me that everything would be all right... I trust you."
This was his entire fault. All of it. Malik would still be breathing were it not for his selfish desires.
"Let's just leave the city, Bakura...We'll be the duo that goes down in history for living on love and the bread we harvest ourselves!"
"I'll go, Malik," he whispered, fighting back the tears. "I'll go with you if you come back... Just please come back... I can't lose you again..."
o-o-O-o-o
"What was that?"
Bakura opened his eyes facing Malik's curious glance. "Did I say something?"
Malik nodded slowly. "You said, 'I can't lose you again'..."
Bakura balanced his chair back and suddenly noticed someone was missing. "Where's Ryou?"
"He said he'd be right back...Bakura, are you all right? You just zoned out for almost ten minutes."
"I'm fine," he muttered, though, he didn't feel that way. Feeling Malik's eyes on his he met them with angry ones. "What?"
Malik looked stunned beyond belief. "I-It's just that... there's this odd scar that appeared on your face out of nowhere..."
Bakura looked slightly troubled. "Scar?" Raising his hand to touch his cheek, he felt exactly what he'd feared. He traced the vertical line with two lines that crossed it horizontally, his mouth open in a silent gasp.
How had that scar reappeared... and why?
"Marik, it's really not healthy to be out here," Ryou said warily.
Marik remained face-forward. "You already told me that, though I take it this time you came out bundled and ready? Now if that's all you want, please leave me be. I have things to ponder."
Ryou sighed. "Actually, I came out here to tell you... that I don't really hate you."
Ever since the words had been uttered from his mouth, he had regretted it horribly. Marik may have been a very mean and hard-to-deal-with person, but he was still a person, and Ryou tried his best to deal with everybody, no matter what their flaws were. He was a wonderful friend, he kept secrets, and he never told lies. That was just the kind of person he was.
"You are still so weird," Marik said in monotone. "I almost don't know how to deal with you. It's like you're asking to be raped."
Ryou couldn't help but shrink away slightly and wince.There Marik went again! Did he always have to say the wrong thing when Ryou expected him to say something a little more intelligible and a lot less threatening?
"Listen, I know you don't like this, and I don't either, but we're going to have to work together on this or it's all going to fall apart."
"Then let it," Marik seemed to say resignedly. "People like us weren't meant to keep things together. We're disordered by nature."
Ryou felt strange when Marik talked about them as an "us". It was like they were connected in some way. "But Marik, why can't you just be nice?"
"Because the world isn't nice," he answered plainly.
"Oh my Ra, why do you have to be so two-sided?" said Ryou, sighing. "One minute you're in my room about to do things I care not to think about, and the next you're all alone again, closed off from everyone." He sighed brushed a few stray locks of hair out of his face. "I'm not sure which side of you I like better, and the crazy part is I think I fancy you more when you actually show that you're alive, that you're more than just some poker-faced stranger. People need to be around other people. It's not beneficial otherwise. What are you so afraid of?"
Ryou suddenly found himself pushed up against the side of the house, Marik's face dangerously close to his own. "I fear nothing," he spoke through gritted teeth.
"A man who fears nothing is a man who loves nothing..." he almost said bitterly, "So there must be no joy in your life..."
Marik narrowed his gaze, but he almost felt his outside shell falter for a moment, as a strange and familiar expression of courageousness found itself on Ryou's face. "How amusing... I think I know what I have to do..." He released the white-haired boy and took a step back. "I have to kill you tonight."
"What!" Ryou said quickly, all courage gone.
"I fear that if I stay here any longer with unfruitful attempts, I may actually go insane. Killing you is the only way to free myself and even you..."
"You would never!" he declared unbelievingly. Oh! He did not have time to deal with this! Shaking his head, he turned to leave, but Marik wasn't playing. He closed the back door with a wave of his hand, the loud slam enough to make Ryou jump, and grabbing painfully tight onto his thin wrist, he dragged the smaller boy right back in front of him
"This is not a game," Marik said through clenched teeth. His eyes seemed to burn light violet fire and that Eye was nearly smoldering. "I've killed enough people not to feel sorry about one more."
Ryou said nothing, suddenly breaking down and crying right there. He hadn't cried in a long time, but this was definitely one of those instances where it was allowed.
"Dear Ra, not this again," Marik glared. Ryou strangely even sobbed the same. "Well," he said, forcing his chin up, "It seems I still have indefinite power over you, and you are still powerless against me... Do you honestly value your life that much?"
"It's not that," Ryou sniffled, "I don't want my father to go through that pain again. He's my dad... Didn't you ever have one?"
"Yes... but he may as well have been my enemy." Pushing that thought aside, he traced his finger down one of the tear streaks, "What would you do?"
Ryou didn't understand. "What do you mean?"
"In exchange for you life... what would you give me?"
"Well, anything," he explained weakly.
Marik's sadistic grin returned, evil as ever. "Anything?"
Ryou's confidence wavered here. "Well...yes..."
"Would you submit yourself to me?" Marik inquired darkly, twirling one of the ivory locks around his finger.
Ryou finally gave up. "Yes."
"I'll tell you what. Instead of killing you tonight, I'll wait until tomorrow. You'll have one day to think things through. By then, if you're willing to give yourself to me, I won't kill you... Deal?"
Ryou said the only thing he could. "...Yes."
TBC-
Wowzers, this chapter was fun. You'd be surprised how much of this story will come from the first one (the last five lines did). Sad, yes, and it honestly made me sad writing the BakuraxMalik bit, and I know Malik would've been bloody and broken from the chariot, but I thought it would be a little, I dunno, better if he was visually fine.
But I was all anxious and whatnot writing the MarikxRyou parts. At least this fic never leaves me bored. Oh yes, and I just threw the scar re-appearing on Bakura's face on an impulse. I thought it would "spice things up", er, something. I know that in the Manga, Bakura has the scar way back when he attacked Yami and the other high priests, but for this fic, I made him get it when he hit the ground. Now, what the odds are that it would make that shape, I don't know, but that's okay. Thanks for reading!
AmethystRoze
