Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh.
Author's Note: Christmas fic for Kiran. Contains violence, implied character death, and general all around nastiness. Rather mild, considering.
Stifling a yawn, Shizuka stretched and gazed down at Mai's prone form, trying to keep her eyes open. She was stiff from sitting in that horribly uncomfortable chair – one would think Kaiba had enough money to properly furnish the rooms, but he must enjoy sitting in rock hard chairs – but even her discomfort was not enough to keep her from nearly dozing off. No one would fault her for snatching a few extra hours of sleep, but she felt bad, and so fought to remain awake.
She replayed the duel between Mai and the scary Egyptian in her mind, shivering despite the warmth of the room. Mai had been so strong and brave, and Jounouchi had acted so valiantly, willing to bear the attack alongside her so that she wouldn't be alone. He'd been like a knight in shining armor, the stuff fairy tales were made out of, but this one hadn't had a happy ending – at least, not yet. She flinched, remembering how Yuugi had jumped up there, accepting the attack and collapsing. She still didn't understand how a hologram could harm anybody, but Bakura had certainly been injured, the poor thing, and that tall Egyptian man, and now Mai…
She studied the older woman, taking in her smooth skin and curly hair, her thick lashes and pink lips. She looked perfectly healthy, as if she had just decided to take a little nap, but nothing would wake her, and her skin was unnaturally icy. The Egyptian had done something to her, that much was clear. He'd held up that gaudy golden thing he loved so much – what the others had referred to as the Sennen Rod – and the light had fled from Mai's eyes. Shizuka shivered again, more strongly this time, wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't like him, didn't like the way he looked at her or the way he laughed when someone was in pain or the way he taunted her brother, and she was glad Jounouchi was there to keep her safe. If that had been her in Mai's place, chained to a slab of stone and facing the wrath of a God…
Even thinking about the duel wasn't enough. She could feel her eyes trying to close, her thoughts drifting aimlessly. She had to move around, perhaps take a walk? With any luck it would wake her up, and at this hour, she wouldn't run into anyone. The notion of wandering around the blimp by herself was a little scary, but what could possibly happen? Maybe she could find the kitchen and snatch herself some food; she'd eaten very little since Mai's collapse, worry gnawing at her like a parasite, and she was rather hungry. And knowing Kaiba, he would keep the kitchen well-stocked, since he had a little brother and little brothers were bottomless stomachs.
Feeling emboldened, she stood up and stretched, the kinks in her legs and back aching. Looking down at Mai, she could almost believe the woman was going to wake up at any second, her lids fluttering restlessly as if emerging from a deep sleep. Reaching out a hand, she gently brushed a few blonde locks away from her forehead, fingers feeling chilled.
"Onii-chan will rescue you, don't worry," she told the unconscious woman softly. "He has sworn to, and onii-chan always keeps his promises." She pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and tugged the blanket a little snugger around her, then turned and left the room.
The corridors were rather dark at this time of night, a few lights still burning. She blinked and allowed herself to adjust to the relative darkness – she had kept every lamp lit in Mai's room – as she glanced up and down the hallway, deciding which direction to go in. She very rarely got lost, but she was careful all the same. It would be embarrassing if she had to ask someone for directions, no matter how massive the blimp was. Since her brother's room was to the left, she decided to go right, since that way there was less of a chance of disturbing someone. She wasn't entirely sure where the kitchen was, though she had a feeling it was near the medical wing.
Humming softly to herself, she paused occasionally to admire the artwork hanging on the walls, the occasional decorative vases or figurines perched on mahogany tables. Here and there flowers bloomed, surprisingly healthy and brightly colored, and she smiled as she leaned close and inhaled their fragrance. She wanted to pluck a few and stick them in her hair, but she doubted Kaiba would appreciate her stealing his flowers.
The thought made her giggle, and she covered her mouth and looked around. Still no one there. She felt oddly mischievous, fully awake now but hungry, not wanting to return to the room without a bite to eat. And so she continued on, moving deeper into the blimp.
She passed by one of the rooms and paused, backtracking and peering in through the open door. It was Bakura's room, where they had placed him after being examined. She had begged for Kaiba to get him medical attention, and while Kaiba had refused to land the blimp – she really didn't understand why; both Bakura and Mai would be better off in a hospital, as far as she was concerned – he had had his own medical team take care of him. They had said his body had been pushed beyond its means, and he needed undisturbed rest. That, however, was no excuse for people to pretend he didn't exist.
Her brother and his friends had greeted him at the beginning as a friend, though she had never seen him or heard anyone speak of him before, and he had definitely seemed nice enough. So why did everyone avoid his room as if he had an infectious disease? The poor boy had acted so confused during his duel, first confident and then pleading, first begging Yuugi to help him and then demanding that he attack. Somehow, the hologram had injured him badly enough that he had passed out, falling into a coma similar to Mai's, but while her skin was cold to the touch, his had been warm.
But now he was gone. The doctors had said they didn't think he would wake up for days. And hadn't they closed his door when they'd left him? Feeling strangely disturbed – maybe he'd woken up early and wanted a snack too? – she shook her head and continued on.
She never did find the kitchen, but she did find another open door, and heard voices floating out from the room before she even stepped in the doorway. Blinking – there were no lights in the room at all, save for two strange glows, and her eyes were refusing to adjust properly – she was shocked to see Bakura trying to stare down the taller Egyptian, the older man who had masqueraded as Malik laying unconscious in his bed. The third casualty of the duels – well, second, now that Bakura was up and about – he had looked so very sad and alone when he'd fallen, and the real Malik so stricken before…before…
Shivering, she found herself rooted to the spot, watching the glows from the Rod and Ring trying to outdo one another. Bakura's eyes flickered over to her, and suddenly an arm snaked out, tan fingers clamping around her wrist and yanking her into the room, slamming the door shut. She gasped and tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened, and his low laughter filled the room.
"Another little toy," a voice purred behind her, a voice she knew belonged to the insane Egyptian who had hurt Mai. "She's prettier than you, thief. Why don't you go find something else to amuse you while I play with my toys?"
Bakura snorted, his eyes cold and flickering with irritation. "We have a duel to fight, or have you forgotten already?" His voice was clipped, lips turned down in a frown. "You never can stay focused, can you? I have better things to do with My time than wait around for you."
"We have plenty of time," the Egyptian replied, laughing softly as he tugged the girl back against his chest. Raising a hand, he ran his fingers through her hair, admiring the color, how it looked like shimmering blood dripping down his skin. Shizuka startled trembling, staring first at Bakura and then trying to look over her shoulder at the Egyptian.
She should never have left Mai's room. She had been safe in there, warm and rather uncomfortable and hungry, but safe. She should have waited out the final hours of the night, until the sun peeked over the horizon and her brother and her friends began to stir. Then she could have gone with them to breakfast, leaving Mai for only a half an hour at most, smiling and laughing and safe.
"Let me go." Her voice trembled, but she was too frightened to be embarrassed. She looked to Bakura pleadingly – he'd always been nice to her. "Please help me…"
He blinked at her in surprise and barked a laugh. "You misunderstand," he drawled easily. "I am not your friend. You should not be asking Me for anything."
"Why don't we both play with her?" the other suggested. His eyes flickered over to the bed briefly, his violet eyes catching the scant light. "A pleasant little precursor to our duel. A brief…alliance, if you will."
Bakura sounded almost bored. "Would she even survive that?"
"Does it matter?"
That gave the thief pause. Eyeing the Dark Malik with a little more interest, he shrugged and replied, "Well, the Shadows are always hungry."
The room began to darken around them without warning, blotting out all outside sources of light and swallowing up the room hungrily. The bed, the walls, the carpeting, it all vanished before a murky, twisting, almost sentient-seeming purple-black darkness. Slowly a ground solidified beneath their feet, as dark as the rest of their surroundings but firm, and a sick, unnatural light pervaded the area, bathing them in blues and greens and reds. Shizuka heard a soft gibbering, the language unknown to her, or perhaps a Japanese so mangled it sounded inhuman, lurking at the edges of the light, threatening to invade and infest and corrupt. An abnormal chill spread through her, gooseflesh rising over her skin, and she began to shake in the Egyptian's grasp.
Dark Malik grasped her other wrist, stepping back enough to press both of her wrists together at the small of her back, twisting her arms painfully. She gasped at the throbbing ache spreading up her muscles and rose up on her toes, trying to lessen the pressure but only adding to it. Tendrils of darkness swirled around her, stroking over her cheeks and running through her hair and slipping beneath her clothes to chill her that much more, every slight touch turning her blood to ice. The tendrils caressed her breasts, slid down inside of her skirt, crept along all the places she touched herself when she was alone and aching, but it brought her no pleasure.
Bakura – no, she'd finally realized it wasn't Bakura, it was someone else, wearing his skin, just as with Malik – approached them slowly, a blade in his hand and a twisted grin on his face. A few quick slashes and her clothes lay in tatters on the ground, blood trickling down her pale skin, the tendrils greedily sucking them up and crying for more, the screams and moans and pleas and demands mixing into a painful cacophony that threatened to overwhelm her senses and split her apart.
"They will look for her," the Dark Bakura warned as he brought the blade to his lips, tongue darting out to clean the blood off of the shining metal. He didn't sound particularly concerned, almost as if he'd spoken the words for her sake, though he barely even looked at her.
The Egyptian laughed, leaning down to press his lips and teeth against the girl's neck, feeling the pulse fluttering wildly just beneath the skin. "Let them," he breathed, and Shizuka screamed.