Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh.
Chapter 4
The light of the setting sun escaped through a crack in dark green window blinds, falling directly into the violet eyes of the teenage male seated on the bed and clad only in a pair of pajama pants with a dried bloodstain on one thigh. Blood also heavily colored the towel he held pressed against his nose to combat the bleeding that still hadn't quite stopped even after the better part of two hours of sitting with his head tilted back.
Malik sighed and shifted position to escape the sunlight, running a hand through his tousled, sweat-dampened hair. The nosebleed alone wouldn't have even been so bad, if it hadn't been for the headache, which felt like the worst migraine he'd ever had combined with someone holding a drill to his head. And maybe a hangover on top of that.
He groaned.
As if on cue, Ryou stepped inside after two brisk knocks on the door. "Hey Malik, how you feeling? You can take another aspirin now, if you want."
"I'll take anything to make this headache go away," he sighed, and Ryou chuckled.
"I thought you'd say that. Here, I brought the bottle. Don't take more than two." He held out the bottle and Malik quickly shook two into his hand, moving the towel momentarily aside so he could pop them into his mouth.
"Water?" he mumbled around the mouthful of melting pills.
"It's here." The white-haired teen handed Malik a glass, watching as he swallowed the medicine and silently taking back the water and aspirin when the other handed it to him. Malik expected him to leave afterward, but instead he sat down in the hard-backed chair beside the bed and continued to watch the blond as he prodded his tender nose, wincing and replacing the towel beneath it when it started to trickle blood once more.
"I called your sister."
"Huh?" Malik turned to Ryou, who regarded him solemnly through the big, innocent brown eyes that made him look so different than Bakura, despite all their other similarities.
"I called Isis and told her that you'd be staying here a while longer, since I doubt you're feeling well enough to wander the streets right now."
"Oh." That was strangely thoughtful. Malik supposed he had been hanging around Bakura so much that he forgot what it was like when people were actually nice. "Thank you. I'll be fine to walk home as soon as my nose stops bleeding. But since I don't know when that will be," he sighed, making a face, "maybe I'd better just crash on your couch again tonight."
Ryou shook his head. "No, you stay here. It won't kill Bakura to sleep on the couch for one night."
"Ryou…" Malik hesitated. "You should know, Bakura didn't do this to me. He may have…encouraged it a bit… but it was my own fault. I played a prank on the Pharaoh; I used the Rod on him and made him go out with Kaiba. I thought it would humiliate him but Kaiba actually liked him… and then he broke the mind control and this happened." He gestured toward his face.
"Ah." Ryou was silent for a moment. "I see."
Suddenly Malik felt about the size of a pea. Ryou stood and Malik jumped, shrinking down into the covers when the other laid a gentle hand on his forehead. "You have a bit of a fever," he murmured. "The aspirin should take care of that, though." Then he sat down on the bed beside Malik, staring thoughtfully in the direction of the wall before glancing at his blond friend. "Malik… you care a lot about what Bakura thinks of you, don't you?"
Malik shrugged and didn't meet his eyes.
"I used to be like that, too, but not because I liked him. He terrified me, actually. I used to think he was going to kill me, when he first came out of the Ring and didn't need to share my body anymore; so I tried to do everything just right, hoped that if I kept him happy he'd leave me alone… but trying to please him never worked. He would always get mad and complain anyway. I think he's stuck like that."
Ryou let out a soft chuckle and Malik grinned a little. "But then," Ryou continued, "after a while… I don't know, I guess I got a little braver, or maybe just dumber. But I quit trying to say the right things to him, or do things just the way he wanted… and he actually seemed to like me better after that. I know I like me better anyway."
With that he patted Malik on the thigh and got up, leaving the blond to sit in silence and mull over what he'd just heard.
456456456
"Kaiba Corporation, how may I help you?"
"I need to speak to Seto Kaiba, please. This is Yami Mutou."
"Mutou? You're not related to the Yugi Mutou by any chance, are you?" The female receptionist sounded rather breathless and Yami rolled his eyes, wondering if it was the same girl he'd met the other day.
"You could say that."
"Oh my… You know, I actually met him the other day! He gave me his autograph and everything; I'm such a fan."
Definitely the same girl. "You don't say. Is Kaiba available?"
"Oh, I'm sorry sir. Please hold for a moment and I'll see if he's able to take your call."
Soft music played over the line and Yami sighed, glancing furtively at the door to make sure Yugi had definitely left for school and wasn't anywhere close enough to eavesdrop. He couldn't say for sure why he was calling Kaiba, much less why he was hiding upstairs in his room with the door shut to do it. But Yami felt guiltier than he ever had in his life over leading the CEO on like he had, though technically it wasn't his fault. He had barely gotten any sleep the night before, burdened as he was with trying to sift through his jumbled memories of the past few days and trying to decipher what had actually happened – and to figure out just how he felt about it.
It had been nice. More than nice, actually; and frankly that scared Yami. He had known for awhile that he preferred his own gender, but to be honest he had never considered a relationship with his rival, never noticed him that way at all besides a passing acknowledgement that the brunet was attractive. But being with Seto, kissing him, holding him, just knowing that the other cared for him… it felt good. Really good. And Yami couldn't help wondering what it would have been like for real.
"Are you still there, sir?" The receptionist's voice yanked Yami from his thoughts.
"Yes, yes I'm here."
"I'm patching you through to Mr. Kaiba's office now."
"Thank you."
Yami waited for a moment as soft music started playing again before the CEO answered. "Kaiba."
"Hello, Seto… it's me, Yami."
"I know. What do you want?"
Yami hesitated, suddenly feeling nervous, but plunged ahead with the speech he had been rehearsing in his head all morning. "I wanted to apologize again, and—"
"I don't want to hear your apologies," Seto cut him off. Silence fell over the line for a few excruciatingly long seconds before the CEO snapped, "Is that all? Because I'm busy, you know."
"Yes... I know," Yami answered quietly, trying to fend off his discouragement. "Seto, it wasn't intentional. I wouldn't… I wouldn't be that cruel. I was thinking about it all night last night, and it was the Sennen Rod, I know it was. I'm going to go have a talk with Malik today and find out what's going on. Do you… would you like to come with me?"
"Hn. I don't think so. I told you I don't believe in that ridiculous Shadow Magic junk you're always spouting. And how would the fact that none of it was intentional possibly make me feel any better?" the CEO growled, adding a moment later, "If I cared, which I don't."
"Please don't get so defensive," Yami sighed. "I know you care about me. And… and I was thinking about that, too, and I thought that maybe—"
"Don't." Seto interrupted once again. "I don't really want to talk to you right now, Yami."
He hung up.
456456456
When Malik finally opened his eyes around noon on Monday morning, he instantly groaned and shut them again at the pain that rushed in with the light on the other side of his eyelids. The blond fumbled around for the bottle of aspirin, and on finding it was empty dropped back onto the mattress and slung an arm over his eyes.
"Ryou! Could you bring me some more aspirin?" he called, the volume of his voice making him wince. He waited a minute, deciding to get up and look for some himself when there was no reply, but just before Malik could move he heard the door creak open and footsteps approach.
Keeping his eyes closed and rubbing the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve some of his headache, Malik sat up, accepting the pill tablets and water thrust into his hand with a quiet "Thanks." He heard the chair at his bedside scrape as his visitor sat, and Malik sipped the glass of water, still rubbing his nose.
"I've been thinking about what you told me yesterday," Malik murmured. "You're probably right, though I don't know if I'd like myself more. I already tried to reform… I wanted to reform… but it didn't work. I didn't change at all; not for the better anyway."
A derisive snort at his side caused Malik's head to snap around fast enough to pop the joints in his neck. "You reform? Unlikely."
"Bakura!"
"What?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I live here, stupid."
Malik glared. "I know that, asshole. Where's Ryou?"
The white-haired thief returned Malik's glare with a raised eyebrow, leaning back and loosely propping an ankle of his jean-clad legs on one knee. He idly scratched his bare chest and tucked his hands behind his head before replying, "At school. Isn't that where they all go on Mondays?"
"Oh. Yeah. I forgot." Malik stared down at the almost empty glass in his hands and sighed. He had hoped to talk to Ryou again today; their conversation had left him with a lot to think about and he needed advice, or maybe just reassurance, something he doubted he would get from Bakura. But still… he was the only one around… Malik turned slightly and looked at the other. "Hey Kura?"
"Hn." Bakura met his gaze through half-lidded eyes, a vaguely curious expression on his face. "Why don't you go to school like the others?"
Malik shrugged. "Don't want to; plus I lived in a cave my whole life so no one can make me since technically I don't exist. Anyway can I ask you something?"
"I suppose." Bakura's eyelids gradually drifted shut as he leaned further back in the chair.
"Do you think I'm a bad person?"
"Compared to me, you're a saint."
"Oh… okay." Malik wasn't sure what to make of that comment. He stared blankly at the glass in his hands and sighed; maybe he wasn't as ruthless as Bakura, but he'd done more than a few things that he regretted, to say the least. Sometimes the weight of his sins was too much for his shoulders.
"I shouldn't have done that to Yami and Kaiba," Malik said quietly.
"They'll live. A little suffering is good for character," Bakura drawled. "And don't take all the credit; I'd like to think our little experiment was a joint effort."
"But that's just it, Bakura! I don't want people to suffer because of me!" The blond set down his water glass and rubbed his nose fiercely once again, not to nurse his fading headache but instead to hide the tears that prickled at the backs of his eyelids.
Beside him he heard Bakura sigh and lean forward; then, much to his surprise Malik felt long fingers start to trail through his sweaty, tangled locks. "You're not a bad person, Blondie. You're smart, your sense of humor is a million times better than the rest of those fucktards Ryou hangs around, and you're hotter than hell. Stop beating yourself up over something stupid."
Malik opened slightly watery violet eyes and stared at the face so close to his, a smile creeping across his tanned cheeks as Bakura started slightly, as if catching himself, and hastily slumped back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Bakura?"
"Hn. What is it Blondie?"
"Kiss me?" Malik asked hopefully.
"Are you kidding? When's the last time you brushed your teeth? That's foul." Bakura slouched even farther in his chair and closed his eyes.
The smile dropped off of Malik's face. "Oh. Right then. I'll just…" he trailed off, biting his lip, and the two into a long, weighted silence.
456456456
Frowning slightly, Yami knocked on the door to Bakura's apartment. He wasn't sure yet how angry he should be with the tomb keeper – and the tomb robber as well, since he had already been by Malik's apartment and his sister informed Yami that Malik had been with Bakura all weekend, so doubtless Bakura was involved in all this. Yami was willing to give Malik the benefit of a doubt, to let him explain before the former Pharaoh did anything in the way of retribution, but still fury burned hotly at the pit of his stomach, fueled by fierce disappointment after his conversation with Seto a few hours beforehand.
The tomb robber opened the door.
"Bakura—"
He slammed the door in Yami's face.
Yami stood frozen in surprise for half a second before he began pounding at the door. "Tomb Robber! Let me in, I need to talk to you!"
"Kura? Who's at the door?" At the sound of Malik's voice Yami pounded harder, not stopping until the apartment door swung open to reveal the blond Egyptian, looking much the worse for wear, bare-chested and with sweaty, tangled hair and dark circles under his eyes. Yami pushed aside fleeting thoughts of what the two might have been doing to make Malik look like that and took the opportunity to step past Malik and into the apartment.
"Malik. I need to speak with you."
The other looked away, confirming Yami's suspicions immediately.
"Why would we want to talk to you?" Bakura snarled, coming up beside Malik and crossing his arms threateningly across his chest.
Yami mimicked the gesture. "It's not a matter of what you want; it's a matter of what you did. Malik, I trusted you when you promised to change. I allowed you to keep the Sennen Rod, against my better judgment, and you betrayed me. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Allowed him? You arrogant—"
"Bakura! I can speak for myself." Malik turned violet eyes to Yami, who noticed much to his surprise that they were suspiciously watery. The blond reached down to the Sennen Rod tucked into the waistband of his cotton pajama pants and pulled it out, offering it to Yami. "If you want it, take it. I don't deserve it."
"What! Blondie, you can't give it to him!" Bakura grabbed Malik's wrist but the Egyptian twisted easily out of his grip and stepped away.
"Don't ever grab me like that, Bakura." He glared at the tomb robber before returning his attention to Yami. "So I assume you figured out our prank?"
Yami raised an eyebrow. "Did you expect me not to?"
Malik shrugged. "I didn't really think that far in advance. Pharaoh… I'm sorry for what I did to you, but you should know… you're lucky. Kaiba really loves you, and that's hard to find." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Just one more reason for me to be jealous of you, I suppose."
The hand that had been raised to take the Rod from Malik dropped, Yami's anger draining away to leave him feeling empty. All he could think was how sadly pathetic the tomb keeper looked standing there, fighting back tears with a bitter smile and a straight back. Had he done all this because he was jealous? Yami shook his head. "You have nothing to be jealous of, Malik. There's nothing between Kaiba and me. He's… he's made that quite clear."
Seeing that Yami wasn't about to take it, Malik lowered the Rod to his side and shrugged. "I wouldn't give up that quickly. I saw how he looked at you."
Yami's stomach flopped strangely. "Looked at me…?"
Malik shrugged again. "Like he wanted you. Like if you were a steak he would eat you. Like… he loved you." The blond ran his fingers through his matted hair and made a face when they caught in a snarl.
Yami pondered this for a moment, staring blankly at a spot on the wall until Malik shifting uncomfortably jarred him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat. "Right. Well, tomb keeper, as long as you regret what you've done, I suppose I can be merciful." He ignored Bakura's derisive snort and turned on a heel, walking quickly out the door and not slowing until he reached the sidewalk, where he sighed and sank onto the first bench he came across.
Malik had given him a lot to think about.