A Little Lonely:
The next morning, Bakura woke up in a place he really didn't recognize. It was a lot lighter than his room, which was decorated in silver and black. He scratched his head and remembered that Marik destroyed his living room with an auger and he was spending the week with them. Well, Malik did say only until Wednesday, but Bakura thought he'd find some way to stay. Maybe hiding under the bed?
Suddenly, there was a yell and Bakura sat up in his bed. Momentarily thinking he was back home and Ryou was singing again. He got up and yawned then walked slowly downstairs to see who or what was being killed.
When he got to the first landing, Marik and Malik were standing by the front door, both screaming at each other.
"I'm not coming with you! This is your mess, so you're going, end of discussion!"
"Bakura is your responsibility! Ryou left him to you!"
Malik huffed, leaning back on the wall, "… You act like he's dead or something. He's only gone for one week and Bakura's probably going to be back home by tomorrow night. And that's why you're going out alone. I have to stay here and take care of Bakura."
Marik rolled his eyes, "You wouldn't even rub his stomach, what kind of baby-sitter are you?"
"T-The kind with limits!" He opened the door, "Good bye, Marik. Remember, it's five thousand dollars we need."
"Yeah, yeah…" As soon as Marik was out of the house, the door slammed behind him and he shuddered, still fuming mad. Really, Marik didn't mind going out and robbing the old people on the street. It was fun actually and served as a way to relieve stress after a hard day of attempting world domination. The only part he objected to was his hikari bossing him around.
"I-I mean where does he get off, anyway?" Marik mumbled to himself, leaning against a stop sign. He perked up when an old woman, hobbling with a cane, came down the street. "Oh well, at least I get to take my anger out now…"
"Hi there." He grinned at her, "What's up?"
The old woman looked warily at him, "H-Hello…" She said frailly. "I'm sorry, but… but I don't have any money that I-I could give…"
Marik frowned. She must've recognized him as robbing her before, or seen him stealing from other old people. He shrugged, thinking this would only make it easier for him, "Well, then… If you already know the drill… hands up, cash out."
This rather evil command startled her and she fumbled for her purse, "O-Oh…!" She shouted hoarsely, as Marik grew tired of waiting and emptied her purse. A few coins popped out and a few Maalox pills as well. The old woman blushed.
He growled and shouted out, "THIS IS RIDICULOUS!"
Immediately, every old person within a five block radius scattered away, including the old woman. Everything went so quiet, a cricket cold be heard, then it stopped. Marik sighed, "I hope Malik is just as miserable."
Back at the house, Malik was also relieving stress from his and his yami's previous argument. Whenever he was allowed time away from their often escapades as future world rulers, Malik would lock himself away in the attic which he turned into a fashion design studio. Of course, whenever he was out, he locked the door behind himself. If Marik found out about this place, he'd call him a lily.
The whole room was decorated with manikins that Malik used for fittings and such. He was currently working on a dress that he'd spent weeks perfecting. Colors, details, laces… everything was tried out on it.
Knock Knock!
Malik's back bristled when he heard a knock at the door, "He couldn't be back already… Um, who is it?"
"I'm lonely! Let me in!"
Malik sighed, in relief and in aggravation. He took his foot off the pedal of the sewing machine and stood up, "Bakura, I want to be alone now. Why don't you go watch T.V or something like that?"
"…" A mumble was heard.
He turned around, "What did you say?" Then there was nothing. Malik groaned and opened the door and saw Bakura standing there, shuffling his feet, "What did you say, Bakura?"
"I… um, the television growled at me. S-So, I came up here…"
All of a sudden, Malik busted out into laughter, "Wh-What? It… the television growled at you? How?"
He grimaced, "Well, I click a button and then the screen went white… then this growling sound came out and I ran up here…" Before waiting for Malik's reply, he walked past him into the decorated room, "What is all this?"
"Uh… B-Bakura! You can't go in there, that's private! No, put that down!" He called frantically as Bakura picked up the dress he was working on and took it away from him, putting it back on the drawing table. "Bakura…!"
"Why do you do this?" He pointed at everything, "Why haven't I been up here before? Does Marik know about this?"
"… You ask too many questions. And, no, Marik does not know about this." Malik frowned at Bakura, wagging his finger as well, "And if you tell him, I swear, I'll never speak to you again!"
"You barely speak to me at all!"
"… Still. Don't say anything."
Bakura grinned, getting an idea. He hopped on the table, leaning back, "And what if I do decide to say something? What would you do?"
"Bakura! You wouldn't dare!"
His grin didn't waver.
"Ah… Bakura, please don't tell!" He got on his knees, "If Marik finds out, he'll totally kill me!"
"… He'll do nothing of the sort. But I can't say that it doesn't sound like him… Anyway, I won't tell about your little pastime. But you've gotta do me a favor and actually take care of me if that's what Ryou told you to do." He folded his arms.
Malik sighed in defeat. What could he do? He supposed it wouldn't be too bad. This way at least he didn't have to keep a secret all by himself. He nodded, "Fine. Whatever. But you'd better not tell or I'll rub your stomach so hard, the skin will fall off!"
Bakura shuddered, "… Yeah, well…"
After a moment of silence, both boys continued to what they were supposed to be doing. Malik, working on a lace trim and Bakura counting the silver hairs on his knuckles. They sat like that for about thirty minutes, the only sound was the clock ticking in it's stoic rhythm. And before long, Bakura was actually getting into it.
"Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…" He continued, watching the second hand go round and round, "Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…"
Malik grunted, hoping that Bakura would get the message and stop his incessant ticking and tocking. Of course, he didn't. "Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…"
"Alright, stop that!" He shouted.
Bakura scowled, "… Well, what in hell's name would you like me to do? You're ignoring me by making frilly skirts and other girly things! I mean, sheesh… I know I'm not your best friend or anything, but the least you could do is pat me before getting ready to wear your dresses."
"What?" Malik whipped his head around, "You think I wear these? What do you take me for, a transvestite? I don't wear any of these!"
He smirked, walking over to a manikin, touching the sleeve of the evening gown, "Oh, really? Well, Mr. Ishtar, this pretty little thing looks suspiciously your size!"
"That's a size six! I'm a size four, you big meanie!"
"Uh huh…" Bakura transferred his touch from the manikin to Malik's midriff, pinching his stomach, "I saw you eating cupcakes last night, and for all I know, you could've let the dress out just to suit your extra inch."
Malik's eyes popped out of his head as he screamed, "WHAT? Ooh! What's wrong with you? Why are you like this?"
"You, of all people, should know! I'm annoyed, I'm cranky, I'm ignored and my hikari has totally abandoned me! Left me with some malfunctioning baby-sitter with a designing complex!"
"He hasn't abandoned you at all, he went to see his damned father!" Malik sighed and lowered his voice, feigning a look of hurt, "… And I do not have a designing complex. I just like to create things, that's all. I only get to do this when Marik's either knocked out or off doing something that I don't know about…. Sorry, that I malfunction."
Bakura sat back down and rolled his eyes, "I didn't exactly mean it that way, you know. And I didn't mean to say you malfunction either… you're just…"
"Unorthodox? Off-balance? A pain in the neck?"
"… Two out of three isn't bad." He looked away as Malik laughed. The clock said it was about three in the afternoon, and Bakura thought it was taking an awful long time for Marik to get back here. Continuing the thoughts in his head out loud, he said, "… always take this long?"
"What?"
He looked back at Malik, who was working at a manikin, "Oh. Um, I was thinking about Marik. Does it always take him this long to go out and rob people?"
"Not usually. But this time, he has to come up with a lot more than we usually do. Actually, all the money we ever actually need is money for soda and sandwich stuff. Ishizu pays all our other bills! Eh heh heh…"
Bakura nodded, knowingly and watched as Malik struggled with the pins. Two in his mouth and one trying to do something else. Finally, after five tries, he threw his hands into the air, shouting something about the manikin not being small enough to fit the dress. Bakura bit his lip, thinking, 'Well… if he's willing to compromise with me, then I guess…'
30 minutes, a happy squeal and few pins later…
"Bakura!" Malik's scorn held more happiness then sternness, "Hold still, will you? I'm almost done."
The silver-haired teen was standing on a chair, holding as still as he possibly could. Surprisingly, he didn't look half bad in a bright pink dress, frills and lace at his feet. Malik found it a lot easier to handle a live manikin than a inanimate one. Bakura was skinner than what he was working on before and they actually held a conversation, while Malik tried his hardest not to stick him.
"…Well, I'm trying, but - Ow!"
"Suck in your stomach, just a little bit more."
"You don't want a model, you want a beanpole!" Malik began to laugh and accidentally poked Bakura in the hip, "Oh Ra! Not there! That hurts!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…!" He hurried to get the pin out of his flesh and just as sound as it was out, a sound of a door opening and closing. Both boys looked at each other in shock, "Marik's back!"
"Quick, quick!" Malik put all the pins away in more or less of a rush, while Bakura jumped off the chair and began taking the dress off. When Malik turned around, picking up different materials, he shouted, "B-Bakura, put some underwear on and I'll go down and see Marik! Great? Great. Go, go, go!" With that, Malik was out of the room and down the stairs, meeting Marik in the living room.
"Uh… hi, Marik. So, did you get it all?"
Marik rolled his eyes and pulled out a roll of green bills from his pocket. Malik looked rather surprised and handled it clumsily, "… Oh. C-Cool. So, I guess you robbed a lot of people, then…?"
Marik noticed his hikari's more or less somber demeanor, "Art thou not pleased?"
"What? Ah ha ha ha! Yeah, right. This is great, Marik, and I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I was just cranky."
"Oh, that's lovely." Marik yawned, and jumped onto the couch, bouncing up and down, "So, I'm guessing we're sending Bakura back to where he came from tomorrow? Well, don't worry about me… I had to return the auger back to the rental place, so you know… No more underground tunneling for me."
"Well, Marik, I'm sure you'll be more creative next time." Malik rolled his eyes and he sat down next to his yami as he turned on the television ready for his daily dose of SpongeBob. Of course, Malik put up a large fight for the Golden Girls, but you know who won.
In about a minute, Bakura came down the stairs and hesitantly, sitting in front of the television, though trying not to show it. He really wasn't over how the T.V had growled at him earlier. During the break, a commercial aired that had a rather interesting effect on Bakura.
Are you lonely? In need of companionship?
Do you feel like you're incomplete? Has your other half abandoned you?
Then call 1-800-LONELY-AM-I
Again, that's 1-800-LONELY-AM-I (Twenty dollars, per minute, per call.)
Bakura rolled his eyes and looked over at Malik, who was laughing at something Marik said. He frowned, '… Damn it, Ryou, this sucks…'
