Disclaimer: I do not own Yuugioh.
This is, indeed, a one shot unless I decide to make a sequel. And unless you've read Under Pressure, you won't know that I've decided to make Atemu's last name Mutou, like Yuugi's. And from My Heart, Your Kiss, and Our Love you'll need to know that in my stories, Ishizu and Atemu are a couple and Odion, Malik, and Ishizu all live together. And the way I've seen it "Malik" is good side and "Marik" is bad, so that's the way I'm going to do it. That's all the surprises for now, so enjoy.
Warnings: Mild blood, guns, and mild cursing.
Drowning
"Good evening Domino City, I'm Julie Swanson, of Channel Six News at eight-o-clock, here to report a disturbing mass murder report," said the unnaturally blonde woman reporting the news that night. Ishizu curled up on the couch under her favorite afghan, frowning at the television as Odion and Malik cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen, listening to Julie Swanson's voice as they worked. Odion scowled at the news of murder but continued to scrub the plate in front of him.
"Thanks for dinner, Ishizu," said Malik kindly, but his sister merely waved irritably in response as she stared, shaking her head as the news0.
woman talked, almost as if she was bored about the murder. The front door opened suddenly and Atemu sprinted into their home, looking shocked and appalled. Ishizu smiled at the sight of her boyfriend, but stared at him as he pulled Odion and Malik into the living room, snatched the remote out of Ishizu's hand and turned up the volume to the television to full blast. Still hold a towel and a dripping dish, Malik watched Atemu's shaking hand hold the remote loosely.
"Atem-" began Ishizu, but Atemu shook his head violently and gestured furiously at the television, obviously at a loss for words.
"Already seen the five-o-clock news… watch," Atemu choked out, burying his face in his hands. Ishizu wrapped her arms around Atemu's trembling shoulders, her clear blue eyes never leaving the television screen.
"It seems a group is going around killing entire families at a time. The only connection between the families that are being killed is that they are all of the Caucasian or 'white' ethnicity group…"
"Disgusting," remarked Odion, but Atemu shook his head again.
"It gets worse, I promise," mumbled Atemu through his hands.
"It seems that this is all organized crime from what the authorities used to believe was a group of card sharks, but are now resorting to actually murdering it seems anyone 'white.' It seems that the 'Ghouls' or so they like to be called, have been trying desperately to reach their leader. They've many calling cards at each scene of each crime, demanding their leader. Each card has been in Egyptian, making the authorities believe that it is a gang of Egyptians doing the murders. The ones that have been taken into custody have claimed that they want to show their old leader that they are still loyal to him or her…"
The tinkling noise of china breaking drowned out Julie Swanson's voice long enough for everyone to glance back at Malik. At his feet were the towel and the shattered remnants of one of Ishizu's best plates. His eyes were wide and blank, his face shocked.
"You know what this means, don't you?" asked Atemu suddenly, wrapping his arms defensively around Ishizu, holding close to his chest. Odion slumped against a wall, shaking his large head unbelievingly. Malik stood still and shocked. Atemu waited for someone to answer him, but when nobody did, he continued. "It means that as long as we have this colored skin, we are all going to face a living Hell until the murders stop." Everyone glanced at each other's deep, rich shade of bronze skin. Atemu waved impatiently at Marty the Weatherman's smiling face and sighed. "And it doesn't look as though that's going to happen anytime soon."
-
- - -
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Atemu sighed exasperatedly as he walked slowly to his bookstore, hearing the angry crowd in front of it before he even turned the corner. He paused underneath the traffic sign and straightened his back, held up his head, and took a deep breath, knowing that today, like everyday since the news segment, was going to be a bad day. He made sure his face was emotionless before turning the corner, hearing the shrieks of venomous words and hisses multiply in sound almost instantly. There were even news cameras to witness the mob. The furious mob swarmed Atemu like vultures.
"Go back to where you came from, you filthy Egyptian!"
"What? Killing and stealing not enough for you? Now you want to poison the minds of our children?"
"Aren't you going to retaliate? Or are you too stupid to thread two words together?" But Atemu stood quite still, his face blank as stone, the color drained from it, which infuriated the crowd even more. What was the point in heckling someone unless you got to see the damage you were doing to his or her pride? Atemu's mouth was a thin, severe line, his eyes staring furiously ahead. He knew if he moved forward, the mob would assume he was trying to fight through them and call the police on him. He waited for the police officer stationed at the corner across the street just for this reason to help him, as she did everyday. Soon Atemu heard her low pitched, booming voice over the crowd.
"Back! I said get back! Get back or I'll be forced to call for your removal!" Atemu stood as he saw the officer's curly brown hair poke through the crowd as she shoved her way through. She gently grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the raging crowd, escorting him to the door of his bookstore. He pulled out his keys and opened the door to the shop, never once looking at the group circling the police officer and him. The officer walked in with him and shut the door sharply behind her, giving the crowd a filthy look through the window in the door.
The bookstore itself was a very small one, but the manager, a Mister Atemu Mutou, had some how to found a way to load up the selves with almost as many books as the two-story library across town. In the back of the main room, in front of the door with the "employees only" sign, was a large burgundy desk, weighted down with about twenty-five un-priced books. It smelled strongly of paper, permanent marker, and incense.
"Here you are Mister Mutou," she said looking back at Atemu, who was setting his bag underneath the burgundy desk sharply, looking livid and indignant. The officer wiped her sweaty brow with her arm, looking at Atemu sadly. "Mister Mutou, I'm sorry you have to deal with that. I can't believe the news station allowed them to play that segment. It's only common sense to expect extreme discrimination after a news segment like that."
"It doesn't matter," snapped Atemu, glaring at his desk and picking up one of the un-priced books and a price gun. The officer frowned, understanding Atemu's bad temper. Atemu glanced up at her sharply. "I do appreciate your assistance, Officer Holt."
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Mister Mutou," said Holt, watching Atemu nod his head curtly. She opened the door to the rambunctious crowd, and began shouting angrily at them, trying to clear them out from in front of the shop. But they only retreated for a little bit, waiting for Holt to return to the police station and then returning to the door to shout through the windows at Atemu, knowing good and well that Atemu would call the police if they so much as touched the door, having done it many times in the past couple of days.
Atemu priced the books on his desk and then picked up his latest book to read, neglecting the door completely. He hadn't had a customer in days, thanks to the crowd shouting vicious things to people who opened the door to buy books. The only people who ignored or flipped off the crowd were teenagers, who wanted Atemu's cheaply priced comic books, elderly adults who already knew Atemu was a good person, having come in the past and wanted his "two-for-the-price-of-one" deal on novels, and little children who came with the elderly adults to get picture books. But lately, even they had stopped coming, leaving Atemu to sit by himself. Usually, the shop was silent if there were no customers, as Atemu liked it, but now he found himself bringing his radio to work everyday to drown out the shouts and screams from the crowd. He had to take his personal belongings with him home everyday, as people would break his shop's windows at night and steal his possessions.
Today the man's voice coming out of the radio was talking about a family that had turned up dead because of some raging Ghouls who had seen the family traveling down the street, on the way home from a family dinner at a restaurant at the end of the corner.
"The father of the family, Samuel Crew seemed to try and fight the Ghouls by himself while his family ran for it," said the deep voiced radio personnel, "but what he didn't know was that two more Ghouls were waiting at the other end of the street. So while the three Ghouls at one end of the street were shooting Crew to death, his family was getting slaughtered at the other. His wife and two daughters died as well. But it seemed it only son Daniel Crew managed to escape and call the police, landing three of the five Ghouls in prison. Oh, it looks like we have a caller on line two…" Atemu shook his head as he turned the page of his book, waiting to hear what on Earth this caller had to say. Last time there was a murder on account of the Ghouls, someone had called up to talk about how his dog could stand on its hind legs. But it was a young woman's voice that blared out of the speakers, not the man with the dog.
"It's those damned Ghouls who have thrown the city in to panic and riots! Those idiot rioters are blaming the Egyptians who are decent, hardworking members of society when they should be setting up neighborhood watch programs, teaching their kids to be home early every evening, and watching out for each other! I'd hate to be an innocent Egyptian right now…"
Atemu smiled gently at the radio, hoping someone somewhere was listening to this kid.
In the afternoons, Ishizu used to be able to bring him lunch from the museum where she worked only two blocks away, but now that was impossible. She had tried once, the day after the news segment, but Atemu ended up calling the police and launching himself outside to retrieve her from the crowd. He ended up having to lock the door tight and Ishizu had to stay in the shop under Atemu's desk, while he was pressed against the door trying to prevent the crowd from getting in the shop. Odion showed up shortly after the police and took Ishizu safely home. People had started throwing things at Odion as he ran in to retrieve Ishizu and Atemu, who decided to close up early and go with Ishizu and Odion. Ishizu spent the night plucking glass out of Odion's arm because of an airborne glass bottle and Atemu went home sporting a black eye and a swollen lip.
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- - -
-
The harsh, cold rain spewed from the sky ruthlessly and terribly. The streets were empty, everyone having barricaded themselves in their home at the threat of a hurricane. Power had long since gone out in multiple parts of the city, plunging the citizens of Domino into darkness. People put batteries in tiny, black and white TV screens and watched the weather, praying that the storm was going to pass, as Marty the Weatherman had already suggested might happen. The ocean waters were thrashing and surging violently, cascading over the docks, knocking boats loose and snapping the wood holding the docks together. Thunder roared and lightning flashed, shaking and illuminating the city, making it seem as though there was an earthquake in midday. The sidewalks were void of any pedestrians, the fear of being struck by lightning pulsing throughout the city.
But one motorcycle was shooting down the streets, uncaring of the slippery road. It sent up huge waves of water as it sharply turned corners, the driver never once touching the brakes. The winds blew it side to side, but the driver didn't seem to care. The driver spotted a single pedestrian on a corner with an umbrella and a flashlight and scowled. He slid over to where the man stood and turned, spraying the pedestrian with mud and water, and zooming past. The driver heard the furious and desperate call of "Malik!" but continued down the street.
Malik sniffed and wiped his helmet, touching on the gas a bit more to send him further away from the livid and drenched Atemu. It serves him right, thought Malik, the vision of Atemu recoiling as he saw the water coming at him flashing through Malik's mind. He's only looking for me because Ishizu and Odion are. He didn't even care I was missing until his girlfriend told him. Inwardly, he knew he was wrong but he didn't plan on going back to apologize to Atemu. Checking to make sure he had plenty of road ahead of him, Malik glanced back and saw Atemu chasing him on the sidewalk, having abandoned his umbrella seeing as Malik had thoroughly soaked him. This man does not give up, does he? Malik asked himself. Malik knew for a fact that that the only reason Atemu was out in the storm was because Ishizu had asked him to help find her younger brother. Atemu's harsh policy of tough love included letting Malik wrap himself and his motorcycle around a tree simply because the blonde knew better than to go out on his motorcycle in the middle of a hurricane.
Malik slowed down to a pause and turned to Atemu, shouting "Thirsty?" Even from a distance Malik cold feel the daggers Atemu was sending him through his eyes.
"Hilarious. Real witty," Atemu shouted back over the storm. "Now stop being a dumb ass and go home!"
"I can't do that, Atem," said Malik, watching Atemu near. Malik sensed Atemu's deadly temper hovering near the surface. Atemu rarely cursed, especially at Malik, but Atemu rarely had to chase after Malik on his motorcycle after being drenched by the blonde on purpose.
"Why, on God's green earth not?" snapped Atemu. Malik hadn't meant for Ishizu to call Atemu, even though he should have known that she would, simply because she knew that Atemu was more intimidating than Odion, and if he had to, Atemu would knock Malik off his motorcycle and drag him home kicking and screaming. Especially as angry as he was at this moment. Malik pulled ahead a few more feet as Atemu swiftly sprinted toward Malik.
"Because I've moved out," declared Malik. Atemu stopped short and stared at Malik in silence for a moment.
"Have you gone out of your mind or are you just on some new sort of medication?"
"I'm serious, Atem!"
"So am I," snarled Atemu, beginning to run toward Malik again. "Your brother and sister are worried sick! They need you, you can't move out!"
"They don't need me," mumbled Malik quietly.
"Since when?"
"Since I realized that all of this is my fault, Atem!"
Malik pulled off his helmet to look at Atemu properly. Atemu face was pale and sickly looking; he was ill yet he had come to find Malik in the rain. He obviously hadn't told Ishizu because if she knew he was sick she never would have let him go. Atemu was looking at Malik with a bemused look on his face.
"What on Earth are you talking about, Malik?" asked Atemu softy.
"All because I was the leader of the Ghouls! All because of me my sister, my brother… even you suffer!" cried Malik, suddenly staring at Atemu, and not processing the gentle look on Atemu's face.
"Malik… you can't be talking about the-"
"Discrimination? Atemu, haven't you wondered where that started?" Malik brushed his bangs out of his eyes. "It's because an Egyptian was the leader of the Ghouls and now the entire city of Domino hates Egyptians! It's because of me that your bookstore is teetering between failure and barely scraping by! The only people who keep your bookstore in business are the little kids who don't know how to discriminate yet and buy your picture books! The rest of the people come to heckle you, and you don't even do anything back because you're trying to make Egyptians look good! You and Ishizu were nearly killed because of me! All because I threw a temper tantrum."
"That's in the past, Malik," said Atemu stiffly. Malik knew Atemu took offense to what the protestors said, especially because of how many times he had saved the world. Malik had seen when Odion, Ishizu, and Atemu had all gone back to the Ishtars' home, bleeding and furious. Atemu even had to wait until extremely late at night to go home; the angry crowd had followed them to the Ishtar's home.
"It's not," spat Malik. "It's not in the past because tomorrow, you'll have to have that cop get you through the crowd, and you'll have to have her help you home, and my sister will have to find a new job soon because management is starting to realize that it's because of her that they aren't getting as many visitors. Odion's already been fired from his job because of the color of his skin! And it's my fault!"
"So you're running away from your problems, is that it?" asked Atemu quietly. Malik opened his mouth to answer but shut it again. How could he explain this to Atemu? Atemu, who had never backed down from anything in his life? Atemu didn't have the weight of knowing that every Egyptian in Domino City was suffering because of him on his conscience. If the ex-leader of the Ghouls left town, maybe everything would go back to normal. Or at least that was what Malik kept telling himself.
Malik shook his helmet and put it back on. He started up his motorcycle again and turned back to the road without say a word to Atemu. But Atemu saw what Malik was doing, even through the heavy rain and stepped swiftly in front of the motorcycle.
"Malik, think logically."
"I am, Atem, now move!"
Atemu glared at Malik, his drenched clothes clinging to his slim frame, his haggard face was soaking wet. He planted his feet and put his hands on the front wheel of the motorcycle to prevent Malik from going past him. Malik stared at Atemu for a few seconds and closed his eyes.
"Atem, move. I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm not going to move. You're going to go home," said Atemu's voice from the blackness that Malik had placed himself in.
"You are sick. Go home."
"Malik, I swear-"
"ATEMU MOVE!" Malik's eyes shot open and he twisted the gas, sending his motorcycle shooting backward and Atemu to the ground into the rain. Before Atemu could register what was happening, Malik flew past the man on the ground, showering Atemu with water again. Atemu felt the icy drops of water pelt his back, hearing the roar of Malik's motorcycle dying away and climbed slowly to his elbows, breathing heavily as though he had just run a long race. His breath appeared in clouds in front of his face.
Blinking rain out of his eyes, Atemu searched for Malik, only to see the blonde skidding around a corner half a mile away. He began to sigh only to choke on the air that was coming in and start coughing uncontrollably. Tears came to his eyes as he gasped for breath between coughs, his throat burning, his lungs screaming for air. He suddenly realized he was in the middle of a street and he crawled to the curb and sat, coughing and gasping for breath. He put his hands to his mouth out of habit and suddenly, he felt something other than rain on his hands. Atemu raised his hands to his eyes just quick enough to see blood before it was washed away in the rain. His heart skipped a beat.
"Hey you!" Atemu glanced up to see an elderly woman, who was poking her head out of her home to see what was the noise of Malik's motorcycle was. Surely no one in his or her right mind would be driving in this weather, the woman reasoned. "Dear, go home! You already look chilled to the bone! Get out of the rain! You'll catch pneumonia!" Atemu glanced to the little splash of scarlet among the tiny stream of rainwater before it slid into the gutter.
"Too late for that," he said quietly.
"What was that, dear?" called the old woman, craning her neck to catch a better look of Atemu.
"Nothing, ma'am," said Atemu politely, bowing slightly to the woman. "I'll be on my way." The woman glanced up at the dark sky and then she stared at Atemu, who was straightening up, waiting for her to answer. The woman squinted and before she even looked at his dripping tri-colored hair or his oddly colored eyes, she honed in on the color of his skin.
"Aren't you that Egyptian who runs that bookstore on the other side of town?" she asked. She saw his entire frame tense up as though she had just thrown something at him.
"Yes, ma'am," he said stiffly, trying to keep his polite tone, without much success. The woman smiled kindly at him, much to Atemu's surprise.
"You were on the news," she remarked, examining him as a grandmother would her favorite grandson. Atemu stared at her, his mouth a severe gash across his face. He was on the news? He had simply thought the cameras had been to show the entire city the mobs that were forming all over the city to heckle Egyptians, not to show him to the city. What had those wretched newscasters done this time?
"Was I?" asked Atemu, his voice light and cheerful, almost hiding the fact that his eyes were flashing dangerously. The woman chuckled, hearing his voice, not seeing his angry eyes.
"Oh yes, they were singing your praises. Oh yes, I remember, them showing you walking into your bookstore and all of those horrible people yelling all sorts of bad things, but you just stood there and took it, never once getting yourself in danger! I think it was the news center's way of trying to make up for all of this Egyptian discrimination they started. Oh it was so funny to see those people get mad because you didn't care what they said!" The old woman giggled again, as if remembering a treasured moment. Atemu watched her, not having the heart to tell her that he had been offended by the remarks from the hecklers. Suddenly, his air caught in his throat and he was once again thrown into a fit of severe coughs. The woman gasped and ran inside and then sprinted out again holding out an umbrella for Atemu.
"Here you are, dear," said the woman. She looked sternly at Atemu and said, "Now you go straight home in your condition, you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Atemu said, smiling at the woman's plump motherly face. He opened the umbrella and felt the relief of not being pelted by rain.
"Now you be careful, young man. There are a lot of people around here who don't like the fact that Egyptians are still in the city." Atemu knew what she was talking about. Many Egyptians, or people with that general skin color had fled town the day after the new segment. "There are a bunch of gangs that have actually been hurting other people because of the color of their skin. They'll hurt you, dear, especially since you are sick and can't defend yourself. Keep your head down and go straight home. Or better, go stay with some friends." The woman took Atemu's face in her hands. "Be careful. I don't want have to turn on the news and see you being carried to the hospital, mangled and hurt, or your name in the obituaries." She paused and smiled. "What is your name, dear?"
"Atemu, ma'am," he said.
"Well, my name is Agnes. Go home!" She gave Atemu a little shove. "And I want you to come and visit me tomorrow morning, so I know you got home safely tonight, Atemu." Atemu didn't see what choice he had and nodded to Agnes, who smiled and waved and went back in her house. Atemu stared at the door Agnes had just vanished behind, feeling slightly more cheerful than he had five minutes before.
"It looks like I just made a friend," he said to himself quietly and began to walk toward the Ishtars' home, seeing as how it was closer than his apartment. He knew he had clothes over there as he had spent so much time over there so he'd simply have to change. The next morning he could visit Agnes, return her umbrella, and then spend the rest of the day searching for Malik in the safety of Odion's car and presence.
As Atemu planned the next day, he absentmindedly turned the corner, not noticing a large group of people on the corner down the street. He ignored them at first but as he neared, he wondered why a bunch of people would be as insane as he was and wandered outside in the middle of a hurricane threat. He also noticed that they were staring at him, obviously looking for the color of his skin. Feeling a little nervous, Atemu pulled his damp jacket collar up and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to show them that he was just a pedestrian trying to get out of the rain. But they continued to watch him, now squinting to see his skin color. Atemu's heart sank as he noticed they were all wearing variations of the same color, and they carried visible weapons, like knives and guns, the international sign of people to be avoided.
"Hey!" one called to him, glaring fiercely. "Where you from?" Atemu frowned at her.
"Why?"
"Because we don't want no Egyptian slime muckin' up our streets, that's why!" Another one shouted from behind the group. "It's because of those damn Ghouls that we don't have a home right now! They burnt down the orphanage on the other side of time, hoping to scorch a few kids. And they did!"
"We're gonna put any Egyptian out for good to get back for what they did to our group!"
"Then I'll just be on my way," said Atemu, hoping that he was close enough to the corner to sprint away if they decided that they didn't like his answer. One pushed his way through the group and glared at Atemu.
"Stop!" the boy yelled. Atemu decided that this was an invitation to hightail it out of there and slid around the corner, then broke into a run, the rain picking up as he fled. He heard the group running after him, cursing and shouting. Atemu didn't hear what they were shouting, only feeling the sting of hail starting to fall from the sky along with the downpour against his face and the pounding of the concrete against his feet. He slightly wished there weren't so many of them, or at least they didn't have weapons; he wanted to vent his anger and so far, the gang members didn't seem very much smarter than punching bags anyway. But he was outnumbered ten to one and the clicking noise of a gun being cocked reached his ears. His heart skipped a beat and he doubled his pace.
He pulled out his cell phone, desperately, jamming one with his thumb, having put nine-one-one on speed dial soon after he had seen the reaction of the news segment on Malik. He muttered his name to the receptionist, who he had called so many times because of the crowds in front of his bookshop she knew exactly why he was calling, as she did with many Egyptians who had been calling on the assistance of the police force. He gave her the street that he was running on and she promised him safety, hanging up to fulfill that promise. He noticed that he had managed to get himself right next to the ocean; he was running along the road that led to the docks. A single motorcycle zoomed past the sidewalk Atemu was on. He ignored it and continued.
Atemu glanced back and saw that he had nearly escaped the gang members, the leader almost a block behind, though still shouting at Atemu. Miles away from where he had originally started, Atemu's chest was beginning to burn, his air getting caught in his throat once again, coughs once again searing the inside of throat. As he panted and coughed, Atemu's felt himself slowing down, but as long as he was struggling to breathe, he knew he wasn't going any faster. He stumbled, using the wall for support as he struggled to keep upright, hearing the frenzied footsteps of his pursuers catching up with him. The bitter taste of blood entered his mouth once again. He moaned miserably.
Suddenly the booming, cracking noise of a gunshot rang throughout the street and Atemu felt himself being thrown to the ground. The shock sent his body into a state of numbness for one second… two seconds… three seconds…. Then he felt the searing pain of a white-hot poker being plunged into his calf and he cried out in surprise, blood dripping from his mouth from his coughs. He closed his eyes, his soaked bangs sticking stubbornly to his forehead and eyelids. He felt that he was no longer being pelted by hail and realized he must have landed under some sort of restaurant outside dining area. The bullet had penetrated his skin easily, but as he felt when he grabbed his leg to feel the damage, it hadn't gone very deep. Blood dribbled down his cheeks and through his fingers, as he clutched his leg.
Footsteps were coming near. Atemu's heart skipped a beat. What were they going to do to him now, once they had proved they didn't think twice about shoot him?
"Damn, where'd you get him? He's bleeding from the mouth," said a female, from near Atemu. He guessed she was standing over him, his eyes still closed.
"I got him in the leg, I saw," said a male, his voice harsh and cold. "But he was coughing really bad when I shot him, so I guess he's sick. Dolly, did I kill him?" Atemu felt two icy cool fingers on his neck and the female's voice echoing through his mind, answering the cold voiced boy. The cold voiced boy continued. "I guess better this way then the way Freddy planned." Atemu neither knew nor did he care who Freddy was. He only knew that these kids were trying to kill him, and there was no way he could defend himself.
"No, he's probably just out cold, he did land pretty hard," the girl's voice seemed a little hesitant as she continued. "Danny, maybe we should just leave him here, it looks like he'll be dead soon anyway. The cops know we're the only gang in town, they'll come looking for us if he turns up dead around here-"
"Aww, you just want to spare him 'cause he's got a pretty face, huh, Dolly?" asked a squeaky voiced man, chuckling as he spoke.
"That's not it!" protested Dolly. "I just don't want to go to jail just 'cause Danny's got some vendetta with the whole damn Egyptian race."
"Shut up, the both of you," snapped Danny's voice. Atemu heard a thud noise and concluded that Danny must have hit someone. "I wanna get a better look at this guy. I think I've seen him before." Atemu's heart was racing. Who was this Danny kid? What was he going to do to him? Atemu felt dizzy and nauseous, his body weak and bleeding. He coughed again, splattering the sidewalk with crimson liquid.
"He is sick, Danny," Dolly squealed and Atemu felt her hands on his face, wiping the blood off his face.
"Damn it," muttered Danny.
"What?" snapped Dolly angrily. "What'd you screw up this time?"
"I shot the one decent Egyptian in town. I have seen him before on the news. Remember? Just a couple days before the fire. This is that guy who has that book place on the good side of town, you know that guy who was just standing there letting the crowd bash on him?"
"Crap," murmured the squeaky voiced man. "Dan, we gotta let him go."
"I know that, but-" Danny sounded worried but was interrupted by a loud voice.
"DANNY!" Atemu cracked his eyes to see an enormous teenager was thundering up the street, the rest of his gang at his heels, wheezing and gasping for air. The big teenager was shaved bald, his face tattooed and pierced. He looked like the leader.
"Danny, I'm glad you caught him. He was a slippery one, wasn't he? Ready to get back for your family, Dan, ol' boy?" The teenager examined Atemu coldly. "Shoot him? Good…" Danny stood up and stepped in front of Atemu.
"Freddy, this isn't the one. I think he needs a hospital," he said, staring up at the gigantic teenager in front of him, without a trace of fear in his face. Freddy glared down at Danny.
"Yeah, he'll need a hospital when we're done with him!"
"I'm serious, Fred, he's already sick, it'll be like shooting a dead horse!" Atemu could tell that Danny was trying to make it sound as if the crimson-eyed man wasn't worth their time, but he knew he was trying to make up excuses.
"We won't be shooting him," said Freddy, knocking Atemu out of Dolly's arms. Atemu felt the stinging pain of his face being scratched against the concrete. "In weather like this? No, no a bullet is too good for him. He's going straight down. With the fishes, like we planned, Danny. You wanted to get back for those Ghouls murdering your family, don't you? Just like we want to get back at those damned Ghouls for burning down our home. You wanna get back, don't you, Danny?" Freddy's voice had been rising threateningly throughout the whole time he was speaking; his voice a roar by the time he had finished.
"Yeah, I want to get back, but not like this! He's not even a Ghoul! We can't kill innocent people, Freddy, or we'll be just like the Ghouls!" Danny stepped defensively forward, to show he wasn't afraid but everyone saw his hands trembling. "He's just some guy who owns a store on the other side of town!"
"I knew you'd chicken out," growled Freddy, shoving the boy, sending him to the ground easily. He yanked Atemu up by the neck, cutting off his air completely. Atemu was jerked out of his daze, into reality, his vision blurring, his hands trying desperately to pry Freddy's hand off his neck but with no success. Out of nowhere Dolly shot up, kicking Freddy straight in loins, causing the giant to drop Atemu. But Atemu was in no position to flee. He had a bullet in his leg and his lungs weren't working properly.
"Get them the Hell out of my way!" Freddy squeaked, watching Danny and Dolly being tackled to the ground. He grabbed a coil of rope and wrapped Atemu's arms behind his back, his legs together, and cut out a piece to wrap around his head, over his mouth, making it impossible for Atemu to call for help. Freddy added a weight to Atemu's feet to make sure that what he wanted to do got done right. Freddy slung Atemu's limp body over his shoulder, heading for the ocean. Atemu shouted against the rope, but his voice was muffled; only making Freddy laugh at the crimson-eyed man. Dolly and Danny were shouting uselessly trying to get someone to hear, only shortly as the gang wrapped their mouths with rope as well. Even the squeaky voiced man tried shouting but he wasn't able to run fast enough and was pinned down like Dolly and Danny.
Suddenly the scream of police sirens pierced the stormy night, and even Atemu felt the chill that went up Freddy's back. Atemu would have sighed with relief.
"COPS!" Someone screamed and the gang scattered like roaches, as police cars screeched around the corner toward were Atemu and Freddy were. Danny and Dolly were one more on their feet, sprinting toward Freddy, screaming and pointing, showing the police cars where to go. Freddy doubled his pace, trying desperately to reach the ocean before the police got out of their cars.
"You called those damned pigs, didn't you?" Freddy hissed to Atemu. "It doesn't matter. You'll be dead before they can get to you, especially in this weather!" Behind him, the police cars skidded to a stop and before they had gotten to a complete stop, officers were poking out of the doors, their guns at the ready, shouting orders at Freddy. Freddy slid to a halt right in front of the bridge and turned back the police officers, glaring furiously at them.
"Get away!" shouted Freddy. "Get back! I'll drop him!" Freddy smirked as he saw the officers recoil slightly, as they looked at one another, wondering if they should back up or stay put. Freddy took full advantage of their hesitation and spun around to face the ocean. He watched the waves lap up furiously against the concrete wall. Atemu's vision was almost black, but even he could see the violent ocean cascade around and around.
Freddy tossed Atemu over the side, watching Atemu's slim frame fall limply over and straight down. The police were on him in a second. There was a flash of blonde as Malik heaved himself over the wall after Atemu. But as Malik disappeared from view, he felt a searing pain in his chest and glanced back soon enough to see a gang member with a gun vanishing under a pile of police officers. He'd been shot.
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"ATEMU MOVE!" Malik's eyes shot open and he twisted the gas, sending his motorcycle shooting backward and Atemu to the ground into the rain. Before Atemu could register what was happening, Malik flew past the man on the ground, showering Atemu with water again. Malik shot down the street, fifty miles per hour above the speed limit. He glanced back at Atemu, seeing the man climbing to his elbows. He struggled with himself not to go back and make sure Atemu was okay; Malik knew Atemu was already sick, and then he had come out on the freezing rain. But Malik drove on, skidding around a corner dangerous, catching once last glimpse of Atemu as he bolted away.
Malik started to head for the freeway to get as far away from Domino City as he could before morning, knowing good and well that first thing in the morning Odion and Atemu would be in the car searching all over town, thinking maybe Malik was just blowing off steam as Ishizu called all over town to see if anyone had seen him. But he had been serious. He wasn't going to let anyone else be hurt or killed because of him. He darted down the road to the exit of the city but shook his head roughly. He slid around a corner, deciding he would circle the city one more time to get it in his head before he left.
But he ended up circling the same four blocks over and over again, furious with himself for not getting straight out but not angry enough to leave the city. But later he'd thank God he didn't automatically leave the city.
As he shot past one street for the third time, he saw a group of people chasing one thin person, on the phone. He had to double take, thinking maybe it was Atemu being chased, but he didn't see any spiky hair and he knew Atemu would have gone straight home or at least to his brother and sister's home. He pushed the thought out of his head as a couple of kids playing Tag and continued down the street down to the freeway. This time he was he was leaving for sure.
He suddenly skidded to a screeching stop, thinking back to the people he had seen running down the sidewalk a few minutes earlier. Maybe his mind was bringing up things to keep him in the city, but Malik was thinking of the person who was being pursued. So what if he didn't see spiky hair? Atemu's hair got limp when it was wet like everyone else's. And just because Atemu may have headed home doesn't mean he got there without any trouble, especially in these days. He shook his head and got ready to start his bike again and then he paused, resting his arm on his handle bar and placing his head on his arm. What the hell was a bunch of kids doing out in the middle of a hurricane, or at least hurricane type weather. He decided that the hurricane must have missed them.
Malik slowly turned his motorcycle around, wondering if he should just drive down the road to see what was wrong, if anything. But the piercing shriek of police sirens made Malik's heart skip a beat. He watched as two police cars darted around a corner and down the street Malik had just seen the person run.
"Atem," breathed Malik. He kicked himself off the ground and roughly started his motorcycle, zooming behind the police cars. As he and the police cars neared Atemu, Malik's heart sank. There were so many other people surrounding Atemu and… a giant had Atemu slung over his shoulder… it didn't look as though Atemu was even alive.
Malik heard someone shriek "COPS!" and the group began to sprint away in different directions. Malik saw two kids, barely fifteen, jumping and gesturing toward the giant who was sprinting wildly to the ocean wall. He was going to drop Atemu into the ocean! Malik lost control of his motorcycle for the first time that night and rolled, landing in a puddle of mud. He wildly wiped himself off as he leapt to his feet and started scrambling to the giant and Atemu. The giant started shouting at the police.
"Get away! Get back! I'll drop him!" Malik saw the officers back off, as he knew good and well they would, but he didn't have to. But the giant didn't see Malik, only the police officers and he didn't see the teen dashing toward him. The giant was dangling Atemu over the ocean threateningly, and Malik knew at that moment to prepare himself to jump after Atemu, instead of at the teenager threatening to drop him. His heart almost stopped when Atemu started sinking down to the water and he doubled his pace, running faster then he ever had in his life. He brought his knees to his chest and cleared the entire wall. But a gunshot explained why a split-second later, it felt as though a metal pole had been jammed through his chest.
He toppled forward and into the ocean. As soon as his head was submerged, all sound was completely replaced with a soft bubbling sound that infected Malik's senses. The suffocating pressure on his chest pushed all of the air out of Malik's lungs, making Malik sink when he instinctively opened his mouth for oxygen. He swallowed the salt water so quickly he hardly had time to stop too much from getting in. Above him the surface of the water shined beautifully, as it drifted further and further away from it. It suddenly hit him that the sight above him would be the last thing he would ever see. He began to close his eyes.
But he heard the loud swelling sound of air bubbles floating to the surface. His eyes snapped open and he forced his head down. Far beneath him, Atemu was sinking, his bounded hands floating over his head, his head hanging backward, bending his neck back slightly, his eyes closed. Malik had nearly forgotten about Atemu, watching the scarlet escape from his chest and feeling the immense pressure of the bullet and the water crushing his lungs. Panicking, Malik began to try and swim down, realizing that he would never be able to save Atemu with the weight attached to his feet. A tiny bubble blossomed from the corner of Atemu's mouth and floated to the surface, followed by two more cherry sized bubbles. He's alive! As long as he has air to spare, he's alive! Malik struggled for a moment and forced his body to go downward with Atemu, seeing the weight collide with the sandy bottom of the ocean. Another tiny bubble of air escaped Atemu's lips.
Lungs almost full of water, vision failing, Malik pushed himself further, finally becoming level with Atemu. He pulled a pocketknife from his back pocket and slit the rope binding Atemu's wrists and the rope wrapped around his face. A deep red welt was left from the rope digging into Atemu's face. Feeling the oddly loose, Atemu cracked his eyes open. Malik slashed through the rope binding Atemu's feet, the weight sinking deep into the sand. But Atemu continued to float downward, limp and pale, his eyes blank and empty. Malik desperately shook Atemu's shoulders, willing the crimson-eyed man to try and swim to safety. And just as Malik's body shut down, he saw a flicker of recognition flash through Atemu's deep eyes.
And suddenly, the world around Malik seemed to sink into utter and complete darkness, cold and empty, the world around him was hollow. It felt calming, it was soothing, as if ushering him to rest. He did feel tired after all… more than tired… this fatigue seemed so deep, so absolute, so infinite…. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, echoing a slowing thump… thump… it was counting down to his expiration. He felt himself fall into the sandy, deep ocean floor and his mind shut down.
This is where I'm going to die…
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Beep… beep… beep…
Malik's heavy eyelids opened, his vision blurred but clearing. What he dead? He was certainly comfortable enough… he was warm… it felt as though he was under his favorite flannel blanket. His body felt so far away, it was as if someone else were blinking repeatedly trying to focus his vision. No… this couldn't be death… there were too many people crying, shouting, ordering, miserable. Wasn't death supposed to be bliss?
Beep… beep… beep…
If this wasn't death, where was he? Wasn't the last thing he saw the bottom of an ocean?
Beep… beep… beep…
How was he not dead? No one could have jumped down and saved them that quickly… wait… them? Where was Atemu? Was he even alive? What was going on?
Beep… beep… beep…
And what the Hell was that annoying beeping noise?
"Oh, Odion! Look, he's alive!" Ishizu's voice suddenly pierced Malik's thoughts. Was he not supposed to be alive?
"Thank goodness!" came Odion's deep, steady voice.
"I don't know if I should hug him or kill him!" said Ishizu. Malik felt someone brushing his bangs out of his face. It was Ishizu. Her soft, delicate hands stroked Malik's pale blonde hair, the smell of her lavender perfume suddenly filling Malik's nose. His wrist suddenly stung, as he reached up to catch the hand stroking him and held it close to his chest, hoping to keep Ishizu as close as possible. How could he have possibly thought of leaving her? How could he have thought of leaving Odion and Atemu?
Atemu!
"Where's… where's Atem?" choked Malik, holding on to Ishizu's hand, closing his eyes praying.
"He's just across the room," cooed Ishizu softly, talking to Malik as if he were a young child again. "Resting. Just like you should be." Relief flowed through Malik like a busted dam.
"I need… to… apologize…"
"Malik," said Odion's calming voice. "Atemu's sleeping. He had a really bad illness and he was just barely avoiding something terrible, but that little stunt in the rain and ocean shot him headlong into severe pneumonia." Malik moaned, and he felt Odion's warm hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. The doctors said as long as we keep him here, we can count on a recovery." But Odion's voice was tense and shaking.
"How… how on Earth did we get here?"
"After you cut Atemu free he grabbed you and swam as far as he could toward the surface. I don't think we would have made it if that little boy… Dennis? No… "
"Daniel," corrected Odion, kindly.
"Yes, well, Young Daniel dove in after you two and pulled you two to the beach where the ambulance brought you and Atemu here," continued Ishizu, patting Malik on the head lovingly and gesturing around the hospital room. Malik heaved himself up and propped himself up on his pillows, wincingly slightly as a jolt of pain shot through his slim back. He looked down and saw that he had no shirt on but he could see pure white bandages wrapped around his torso.
A sigh across the room snapped Malik's head up, showing him Yuugi Mutou, Solomon Mutou, Joey Wheeler, Tristan Taylor, and Mahaado crowded around a single bed, standing close, their faces miserable. As Solomon patted Yuugi's back he watched Mahaado pace up and down the room, running his dark fingers through his long hair muttering to himself. Malik caught the words "my fault" and "should have been there" as Mahaado finally slumped into a chair, staring dully at the linoleum tiles on the ground. Joey sniffed, desperately wiping his cheeks, stubbornly trying to claim that there simply something in his eyes. Tracing the gap between tile on the ground with his finger, Tristan avoided everyone's gaze, glimpsing up at Atemu every few minutes.
Malik, who had thus far been avoiding the sight of the thin, haggard figure in the bed on the other side of the room, shook as he finally glanced at Atemu. Tangled in the tubes and needles poking into his arms and chest, Atemu slept, unnaturally deep. His chest rose and fell at uneven times. His usually deep, dark skin was an unhealthy pale, blotchy tan, his face unusually rosy and sweaty. Atemu's face was calm and relaxed, almost at peace, making Malik wonder how much anesthetic was pulsing through the crimson-eyed man's veins.
The door opened at Malik tore his eyes away from Atemu to see two young teenagers, barely older than fourteen, enter in, holding a box of doughnuts. The boy looked worn and tired, his light brown hair falling into his blue eyes, as the girl yawned openly, her eyelids heavy, her body sore. Ishizu took Malik's hand.
"Malik, dear, this is Daniel Crew and Delilah Jordan."
The boy smiled at Malik kindly and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you sir."
The girl blinked and said, "Call me Dolly, not Delilah." Malik nodded at Dolly and shook Danny's hand, his eyes still looking over to Atemu's limp form. Danny frowned, his eyes following Malik's gaze, spotting Atemu.
"I'm really sorry I got him into that, Mister Ishtar. I didn't realize that he was the guy from the news segment… no… I shouldn't have messed with him anyway… and Freddy's in jail; the cops got him. The doctors said Mister Mutou would be fine, and Mister Mahaado said it wasn't my fault, but I still blame myself. I was a stupid and I…"
"No," interrupted Malik suddenly, causing Danny to fall silent. "Nothing was your fault, kid. But I'll make sure the real person to blame apologizes to Atemu." Danny looked slightly puzzled but hid his confusion by deciding to pass out the doughnuts. Malik closed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired. The real culprit would apologize just as soon as Atemu was well enough to hear it.
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The end, unless I decide to make a sequel. Doesn't that always seem to be the case? Hmm… ah well. Well review if you have the patience, even if you don't like it, because at least I'll know you read it. Well, until next time.