Oh look, I started a new story. It's a bit interesting, really… The idea just sparked out of nowhere and I've been toying with it ever since, but I couldn't seem to write a decent first chapter. Well, finally, it's done.
Pairings: Yami/Yugi, Ryou/Bakura, Malik/Mariku. Maybe Kaiba/Jou if they fit into the plot. Perhaps Shaadi/Isis as well… hmm. I'll have to think about that one.
Disclaimer: Saying that I own Yu-Gi-Oh! Is like saying that the earth is round because of the cows. It's just not right. Still, the plot's mine, and I don't tolerate plagiarism. If you want to borrow something, just ask.
Enjoy!
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"So come back… to… me…" Bakura Ryou finished, the last note lingering in the air, suspended over his audience before gently fading away. There was a long moment of utter, magical silence before applause broke out, growing in volume like a wave before it swelled into a loud roar.
Ryou smiled at his audience, glad that they had enjoyed his performance. It was nice to make others happy with his voice.
At the age of 15, his career had taken off. Bakura Ryou was as close to an "overnight celebrity" as you could get in the music industry. He had yet to produce an album, but every concert he had sold out completely.
Critics raved about the snowy-haired teen with the bright emerald eyes, calling him "Blessed by God" or saying he was gifted with the "voice of an Angel". His only enemies were those who were jealous, for Bakura Ryou had a lovely personality as well: always polite, kind, and gentle.
Ryou slipped offstage, and nearly ran into his friend, cousin, and manager, Isis Ishtar. "Oh, no… sorry about that, Isis."
"No problem," she smiled. "That was a nice concert, there."
Ryou blushed. It always felt nice to be praised by the people he knew and loved best, because they had high expectations. Therefore, when they praised him, he knew he had done well. Their entire clan was influenced by the Arts: Ryou's mother had married into the family, but she'd sung opera. Ryou's father had been an organist, and his sister Amane had been an amazing violinist. But they had died in a terrible car crash, and Ryou had moved in with his cousins Isis and Malik Ishtar.
They, too, were part of the clan, and therefore obligated to choose an aspect of the Arts to excel in. Isis, always an overachiever and a perfectionist, had chosen oil painting. She juggled painting and her managing job quite well.
Where his sister Isis had chosen painting, Malik Ishtar chose to dance. Not ballet ("I never want to be thought of as one of them," Malik had said, disgusted, although he did admire the discipline and strength that ballet required.), but he studied any other type of dance he could find, including native Egyptian dances praising the Gods.
Isis managed her brother's career as well. Malik didn't like to dance with other people… or rather, other people didn't like to dance with Malik. When professionals danced with the soon-to-be 16-year-old, he made them feel slow, clumsy, and heavy. So Isis had somehow managed to have Malik tour solo.
People flocked to see Malik dance, entranced by his movements as others were attracted to Ryou's singing. Isis' paintings were featured in exhibits all over the world. They should have been content, and yet… each had a problem.
Ryou, although he was reluctant to admit it, did not like his musicians. He had both a band and an orchestra touring with him; it depended on what kind of concert he was giving to determine which one would play at a particular time. The band didn't get along with the orchestra, and was constantly pushing him to choose "normal" music, and to forget the "classical crap".
All Ryou really wanted was a band he could get along with, and for one band member to be able to play classical pieces on a piano instead of a keyboard every once in a while. It wouldn't be a hard wish to grant.
Malik was tired of dancing, dancing, dancing all the time, and to recorded music, no less! He wanted musicians, and he also wanted to be able to rest for a while, and to be able to explore other areas of the Arts. While his voice might not be as perfect as Ryou's, it was still pleasant, and singing duets with his adorable cousin was always fun. But the main thing was, Malik needed "a fucking break," as he so eloquently phrased it.
Isis…. Well. Isis was tired of listening to Malik complain. She was worried about how little sleep Ryou was getting. She was sick of constantly being on edge.
So, yes. A break would be in order.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, Ryou smiled. "Thanks," he said. "It means a lot, coming from you."
It was true. Isis wasted no time in telling Ryou when he was sharp, flat, or anywhere but dead center on a note, although she did so in a kind way.
Isis laughed. "Better cherish it, then. Listen, this was your last concert for this tour. We're meeting up with Malik in the next town over tomorrow afternoon where we'll get to watch his last show. Then we're going to rest for a while, all right?"
"That sounds great," Ryou said, relief evident in his voice. "I'll just go change, and meet you at the lobby of the hotel later, ok?"
"Sure," Isis said. Then she paused, and added, "I'm very proud of you. Just thought you should know that."
Then she turned around with a swish of her hair, and walked silently away.
Ryou smiled again. He did so love his cousin. She always knew when he was stretched a little too thin.
And he would get to see Malik soon. His immediate future looked pretty bright, indeed.
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Malik Ishtar woke up tired and grumpy. He stared at the ceiling of his lavish hotel suite and groaned, flipping around and burying his head into his pillow. "D'n wann' getup," his muffled voice said.
Still, this stupid hotel mattress and blanket weren't all that comfortable anyways. With a soft, resigned sigh, Malik threw the pillow halfway across the room and sat up, watching as it bounced off the wall to land with a soft Puff! on the floor.
His eyes flicked to the right as he saw what time it was: 11:33. Hmm… his performance was at 2:30, and he needed to get to the theater by 12:30. He could do it.
He grabbed the clothes that someone had set out for him the night before, on Isis' orders no doubt, and pulled them on, still half-asleep. He finally woke up fully in the middle of his brunch when some idiot 5-year-old "accidentally" smashed a fist into one of the fire alarms.
A slightly less grumpy Malik walked into the theater building at 12:35, and began to stretch in one of the rooms backstage. He grinned happily as he felt his body untense, muscle by muscle.
Mm… now, what was he performing today, again? Mali thought for a second. His previous show had been an Egyptian dance, so this time… ohhh yes. Malik's eyes lit up insanely. This time was Improv.
Well, that was good. He wouldn't have to rehearse a specific dance. Isis, being the "evil" older sister that she was, never told Malik what music she would play for his Improv shows, feeling it kept him on his toes.
He felt considerably better now. He'd watched Ryou's concert last night on television, too, and remembering it made him smile. "Ryou really outdid himself that time," Malik said aloud.
"Why, thank you," a voice behind him giggled. "Glad you enjoyed, Malik."
Malik was on his feet and giving Ryou an enthusiastic hug in less than 5 seconds. "It was fabulous," he exclaimed. "Did you have fun? My tour's been…interesting." Malik made a face.
Ryou bit his keep to keep a straight face, and widened his eyes innocently. "Ohh, you mean that one guy who tried to sneak backstage and like, rape you or something? That was all over the news, you know…"
Malik groaned. "Don't be mean, Ryou, it was possibly the most disturbing thing that's ever happened in my life."
Ryou made a sympathetic sound. "I'm sorry, Malik, I really am, but… it was just so funny…"
"Whatever," Malik said dismissively. "Have you had any stalkers, my lovely cousin?"
"Um…" Ryou said, squirming slightly. "Not exactly, but…"
Malik's eyes lit up in glee. "Oh no, no, Ryou, you're not getting out of this one!"
"You're bound to find out, anyways," Ryou sighed resignedly. "Well, after the show yesterday night, this… mob was waiting for me. You know what Isis always says: smile, wave, and rush past as fast as you can, right? Well, it's hard when you're half-blinded! What kind of flashbulbs do those people use? Anyways, I stumbled through the photographers, and straight into a group of rabid girls who immediately start shrieking and trying to tear my clothes off… Malik, it isn't funny!"
"My, my, my…. Has my darling Ryou finally been deflowered?"
Ryou blushed, eyes widening in indignation. "There was no 'deflowering' of any kind! Rishid managed to find me!"
Rishid was the Ishtars' bodyguard, but was more like a brother to them all.
Malik snapped his fingers mock-dejectedly, muttering, "Damn! 15 and still a virgin… Ryou, I'll have you know that you're …"
"Sad, pathetic, and way too pure," Ryou chimed in with Malik, rolling his eyes. "You say that every time, silly."
"I'm hoping the repetition will make you see the truth," Malik replied impishly. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, wondering what the time was. "1:19?! Shit! Ryou, much as I love you, you've got to go. I've got to find my costume, my makeup person, check out the stage, finish warming up…"
"All right, all right," Ryou grumbled. "I'm going. You'd better put on a good show for me, though."
Malik licked his lips slowly, seductively.
"Oh Malik!" Ryou groaned. "You know that's not what I meant! Come on!"
Malik chuckled. "I know. Now, out."
"Leaving," Ryou sighed, shutting the door gently behind him. He couldn't see how Malik could dance so well. Ryou could dance, but Malik… you had to see Malik to believe it.
He slipped quietly out of the theater building, pulling too-large sunglasses out of his pocket and onto his face. As cliché as that sounded, the disguise worked. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, making sure each white strand wasn't visible.
He ambled down the streets of the town. He liked it here.. the quiet. Tokyo really had been much too loud for his taste.
He stepped inside a coffee shop, and paid for an iced mocha, which he sipped happily as he resumed his wandering/sightseeing. His eyes fell on an antique shop across the street. 'Perfect,' he thought happily. 'I still haven't gotten Malik a birthday present, yet.'
As he pushed open the door, bells tinkled softly, and chimed again after the door slid shut. Ryou looked around, eyes wide behind his shades.
While most antique shops were dark and musty, this one was filled with light, and had a very cheerful atmosphere. Brightly colored oriental rugs and tapestries hung on the walls, and a caged canary sang from where it was hung by the window.
"Hey, you need help?" A feminine voice asked? Ryou saw that the speaker was a brunette who leaned casually on the counter. 'Her skirt's too short,' was his initial thought.
"Oh, no… that's all right," Ryou said softly. "I'm just looking. I'll be careful."
"Mm, whatever," the girl sniffed. "My name's Anzu, by the way. And geez, those sunglasses of yours are annoying. Can't you take them off?"
Ryou, still behind his disguise, blinked. The atmosphere of the store didn't match the attitude of this young woman at all. "I'm sorry," he murmured, thinking fast. "But I have very sensitive eyes. I have to keep them on; doctor's orders."
"Yeah, ok. Just look around, choose something, leave. I'm looking after the shop today for my Grandma, and I have a date soon, so come on!"
While Anzu had been yattering, Ryou had, in fact, found something that he liked. Two things, in fact. One was a long, smooth, shiny golden… walking stick? Ryou didn't know. On top there was a round Egyptian Eye, and 2 "wings" protruded from the sphere. Ryou was sure Malik would love it.
The other item was a silver knife, with either a garnet or a ruby – Ryou couldn't tell – embedded firmly into the hilt. Ryou, admiring it, thought with a chill that the jewel matched exactly the color of a deep, red wine… or the color of fresh blood.
Taking his items to Anzu, he fidgeted nervously as he pair and walked quickly out the door. She scared him… or perhaps it was just the overpowering smell of her cheap perfume mixed with the stench emitted from the nail-polish bottle she had just opened.
It was now 2:15; Ryou would make it just on time. He knew that he and Isis would have front row seats, so he didn't have to worry about finding one. As a wind blew past, Ryou shivered. November was just too cold.
Ryou slid into his seat just as the lights began to dim. Isis looked over at him with raised brows. "You're late," she commented in a lowered voice.
"Sorry," Ryou panted. "Got side-tracked. Had to get Malik a present."
Isis' mouth formed a small "O" in understanding, and she nodded, accepting the explanation. The music had just begun to play, and both fixed their eyes on the lone figure dancing on the stage.
Ryou was caught up in the dance, wondering how anyone could move that way. Malik's body twisted sensually as he employed everything down to the merest fingertip to do its job. Ryou's breath caught in his throat as he remembered that this was one of Malik's Improv performances – all his movements were improvised, made up on the spot. Ryou's eyes widened in amazement.
Ryou sat through 7 long dances, stunned. He had seen Malik dance often enough before, but each time, he was dumbfounded all over again. After the show, Ryou raced backstage into Malik's dressing room.
"You were terrific," he said breathlessly, green eyes sparkling.
Malik smirked. "I try."
"Now, Malik," Isis warned from the doorway. "Don't get too cocky. Although I must admit… that was very good." She smiled at her 2 charges. "You have both made me very proud."
Malik knew just as well as Ryou how hard it was to earn such praise from Isis. "Thanks, sis," he grinned, a warm feeling filling his chest.
Ryou would have said something as well, but Isis' cell phone rang. "Rats," she murmured. "Hold on a second… Hello? No, Ryou cannot give another concert tomorrow, he's going on break. No, not Malik either. They're both taking some time off. Thank you. Yes, of course. Bye."
She looked up at the ceiling, asking plaintively, "Why is it that these people never listen when I tell them that you're going on break?"
"Well, maybe they just forgot," Ryou said reasonably.
"Or maybe they're just dumbasses who can't get enough of us," Malik snorted.
He had removed his makeup and changed into street clothes. He held a pair of over-large sunglasses identical to Ryou's loosely in one hand. "Do I have to wear these?" he asked, glaring at them with distaste.
"You pick. It's the shades or the Paparazzi," Isis shrugged, her clear blue eyes laughing at him. Malik grumbled, but didn't put them away just yet.
There was a knock on the door, and Ryou pulled it open. Rishid pushed a huge wheelbarrow full of flowers into the dressing room. "From all your adoring fans. Have fun, Malik," the man commented dryly before exiting.
"Flowers…. Fun." Malik picked through the assortment carefully. "Well, let's see. Ah!" He gently tugged a blossom free, and offered it to Isis. "A rose for the lovely manager…"
Isis accepted gracefully, rolling her eyes. Malik was still talking. "A white lily for our darling Ryou…"
Ryou took it gently, "… and the rest for me!"
They all laughed at Malik's over-dramaticized ending. "Come on, let's go out to eat," Malik urged. "Somewhere… greasy."
"Eww, no," Ryou complained. "Not another fancy restaurant, but no McDonald's, either!"
"Will you settle on KFC?" Isis asked, choosing a random fast food place.
"I'm not in the mood for chicken," Malik sighed.
"Subways?" Ryou suggested. "I heard my guitarist say that it's another fast food place from America. It's supposed to be pretty healthy, but good."
"Might as well," Malik shrugged.
"Fine with me," Isis agreed.
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Subways probably never had odder customers. As an employee would later tell a reporter: "And then this limo pulls up and then out step Bakura Ryou, and Ishtar Malik, and Ishtar Isis, too! Do you know how much her paintings are going for?! Anyways, they come in and half the employees are clamoring for an autograph…. They're lucky there weren't any other customers and at the time, you know? They order, take their food, and leave, just like that. But they gave us 3 times the amount of money they needed to! I'm telling you, those 3 are rising stars. You just mark my words, they will go very far."
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Yes. And that is it. Please review! Please! It would make me extremely happy. I NEED happy right now: school is killing me. I will die!
Hope you liked it.