Woohoo! Chapter two! Please enjoy reading this.
SeventhDaughter: We had so much fun writing it. And please don't forget to R&R! Love you guys!
(SeventDaughter and Tramontana are the most powerful writing team ever seen! Bow before our holy powers! Ehm. Yeah.)
Tramontana Keeper: --
Hey, she's the delusional one, not me!
CHAPTER TWO
After the pond incident, Malik seemed to think that he had full rights to Ryou's house. He invited himself over after school on Wednesday, to do homework and hang out. Ryou was a little surprised at first, and reacted a little less than enthusiastically when he noticed Malik waiting until he unlocked his door.
"What are you doing here?"
"I came over to help you with those math problems I know you're having trouble with."
"I'm not having trouble with math."
"Am I…bothering you?" Malik asked, sounding crestfallen.
"Uh, no. Of course not. There's some chocolate cake in the fridge if you want," Ryou suggested, holding the door open. Malik gave him an enthusiastic hug, before rushing in. "I love you forever, Ryou!" he called back happily. Ryou shivered slightly, not sure what bothered him more, the words or the hug, and entered the house. He began to get out his homework while Malik rummaged in the fridge.
He had almost finished tackling the physics assignment when he felt someone breathing down his neck. Malik rested his elbows on Ryou's shoulder and leaned over to look at the notebook filled with Ryou's neat, orderly notes. "That's Newton's second law that Nakano Sensei was going on about today?"
"Yeah. Malik, could you please get off me?" Ryou asked, becoming more uncomfortable with their position by the second.
"Sure." Malik sat down across from him and pulled the plate with the sliver of chocolate cake in front of him. "You're so rigid, Ryou. No play before work? Want a massage or something?"
"Malik! I'm trying to get my homework done before dinnertime, so will you please leave me alone for a while? When I'm done you can do whatever you want with me, okay?"
Malik looked delighted. "Deal. You really should have some of this cake, Ryou... it's great."
"Thanks for the compliment. I baked it."
"Wow, are you talented. If I was this good you wouldn't catch me hanging around on the streets."
"Malik – you… don't hang around on the streets."
"Right," Malik said quickly. "Yeah. Of course. I was kidding."
He pretended not to notice the calculating look Ryou sent him.
When Malik finally got up to go three hours later, Ryou walked him to the door. "There's always more chocolate cake waiting, if you want to come over again," he offered, waiting to see what Malik's reaction would be. Malik grinned and pretended to tip his hat.
"Don't offer that, I might just take you up on it. Besides, I have to make sure I don't get fat on your wonderful cake." He patted his completely flat stomach.
Ryou waved and shut the door. He leaned against it and concentrated on breathing slowly. His heart pounding, he tried to imagine a lifetime of afternoons spent with the cheerful Egyptian. He wondered what the heat in his cheeks meant.
"Interesting slip Malik had there, when you were talking," his yami commented suddenly.
"Yami?" Ryou asked, startled at the thought that his yami had been monitoring the whole conversation that afternoon. "What slip?" His yami was silent, leaving Ryou to figure it out for himself. "You don't mean – he really lives on the streets! Yami? Answer me! What do you know about him? Why do you think that?" It suddenly occurred to Ryou that maybe that was why Malik was so keen on coming to his house all the time.
On Thursday that week, Ishimoto Sensei stood up during second-period math and announced that the eighteen-page project in World Geography would be due on Wednesday the following week. Groans filled the class, but he held up his hand commandingly. "The project will be done in pairs, decided by me. You will give me the history of any of the following major cities, the common architectural styles, the gross population, the climate, the location, and such. All the information you need is on these sheets. The cities are as follows…."
Malik tuned out as Ishimoto Sensei droned on about the project. His gaze wandered around the class, finally settling on Yugi. He hadn't seen the pharaoh since Battle City, and he wasn't quite sure that he missed him. He had long since dropped his grudges toward Yugi, but he hadn't ceased blaming the world's defects on Yami. The short, explosion-haired (Malik mentally patted himself on the back for that description) duelist sat attentively at his desk. On his right, Joey noticed the intense stare he was giving Yugi and returned it in full. "Planning world domination again?" he mouthed. Malik glared levelly back. "At least I have a mind with which to plan it, unlike certain other people," read the note he sent to Joey.
The teacher began to read out the assigned pairings. "Takeru with Hanasaki, Gardner with Hakuritsi, Mutou with Mishu, Ishtar with Bakura…." Malik sat up straight in pleased surprise, and looked at Ryou expectantly. Ryou tried not to look startled, and to get his heart back to normal speed.
"Wait, sorry. Ishtar with Katsuya. My mistake. Shikotaka with…" Ryou slumped back in his chair and Malik tried not to look annoyed. He didn't have to look up to feel the daggers Joey glared his way. Looks like we're about to have a fun week, he thought with a mental sigh.
Their assigned city was Madrid, the capitol of Spain. During recess, Malik went over to Joey and sat down on his desk. "So, we'll meet at your house today?"
Joey glared. "How about we go to your house?" They wouldn't be able to get much work done, because Joey's father was home. He wasn't sure he was so keen on letting Malik in on the fact that his father was a drunk either.
"How about not? I think it would work better at yours."
"Forget it. If you want to get this project done, then we're doing it at your house. End of story."
"Fine, fine. Don't be so touchy. Can you bring a floppy?" When he nodded, Malik removed himself from Joey's personal space and backed away. "I'll be ready for you at five-thirty."
Joey scuffed his shoes on the broken pavement, coming to stand in front of a scruffy whitewashed apartment building. He was very surprised to see where Malik's house was. This neighborhood rivaled even his in its undesirability. He hadn't expected Malik to live anywhere so poor, with all that jewelry he walked around in. He climbed the steps to the fourth floor and knocked on the door.
Malik opened it and stood, filling up the doorway with his narrow frame. "Glad to see you made it." He didn't sound all that glad.
"I managed to escape harassment from the gangs around here, yes," Joey said. "Were you going to let me in?"
Malik reluctantly opened the door wider, letting Joey into his apartment. Joey entered and looked around. The living room was small, and rather dirty, looking as if Malik never bothered to clean. Actually, the living room couldn't really be called a 'living room', considering the lack of furniture; it was more of an empty room where a living room should be. There was an old table in the corner of the room, with one chair.
"Pull up the chair," Malik said sarcastically. "And feel free to keep your comments to yourself. I don't want to hear about it." Joey sat down on the chair, watching Malik go look for something in the single bedroom. He came back a minute later carrying a laptop computer, which he placed on the table. Joey started at it in surprise; he hadn't expected to see something like that here, considering the general lack of anything.
"Do you want something to drink or eat?" Malik offered. "I have some water, uh…." He studied the wall as if it were the most interesting thing around.
Joey, uncomfortable, nodded. "I'll have a little water then." He hadn't in his wildest dreams imagined Malik to be this poor. The Egyptian's financial position made his own seem positively wonderful. Malik handed him a glass and sat down on the edge of the table. "You can stop pitying me any time you like."
"Actually, I wasn't pitying you. I…understand what it's like." Joey was reluctant to talk about his own situation at home, but he had never thought he would find someone he could relate to, and he certainly hadn't thought it could be Malik. "So, what do we have to do?"
"Research Madrid, I guess. Here, that's what I brought the laptop for. We can do an internet search." At Joey's look of surprise he added, "I have enough money for the really important things in life." Apparently, Malik didn't consider food to be an important thing in life, but Joey wasn't about to comment on that.
They worked quickly and efficiently, hardly stopping to chatter, and were almost done with the first step in the project by the time it was dark outside. Joey stood up to leave, and Malik followed him. "It's dangerous, to be out at night in this neighborhood alone. Why don't I walk you at least part of the way?"
Joey raised an eyebrow at him. "I can take care of myself. I've had run-ins with gangs before this, you know." He didn't mention that he'd actually been part of a gang, before he'd met and joined the yugi-tachi.
"That won't stop them from attacking you and beating you up. I'm coming with you."
"No need. Besides, how are you going to get back on your own?"
"I'll manage. Just a second." Malik disappeared into his room, returning with a knife stuck in his belt. He tossed one to Joey and bent over to slip one in his shoe without waiting to see if the other caught it. Joey flipped it over and tucked it inside his school jacket. They exited together.
The street was dark and gloomy, and shadows loomed from behind every jutting pole and building. Joey, for all his previous bravado, stuck close to Malik, trying very hard to ignore the shadows. Malik noticed this and chose not to comment, instead turning to him. "We worked really well today. We should get together some other time, not just for school."
Joey smiled slightly, his expression sort of far-off. No comparison could be found between the Malik he'd known in Battle City and the current Malik walking beside him. Even though the Egyptian was clearly quicker than he was, he sure didn't flaunt it the way Kaiba did. Joey finally began to understand how Yugi could give Malik a second chance. Maybe Malik, like Ryou Bakura, was just victim to a violent yami.
Abruptly, he was shoved against the nearest building. Strong hands tightened around his arms and held him in place, the grip strong enough to bruise. Turning his head slightly, he saw Malik in a similar position on his left before someone slapped his head against the wall and he saw stars.
"Look, it's the freak from building number eight. Who's this, Ishtar, your boyfriend?" The bullies burst into loud guffaws. Malik removed the hand from his shoulder that held him against the wall, neatly breaking the goon's wrist in the process. The injured goon howled and backed away, cradling his hand against his chest. Two of the others came forward and grasped Malik's arms, twisting them painfully behind his back. Malik ignored the pain, the feral grin on his face and light in his eyes directed with intensity toward the gangsters. "My, aren't you all so brave. Ten against two innocent, defenseless guys like us. Or maybe you're all just pissing your pants from fear because the last time you ambushed me I whipped your asses from here to Ashqelon!" It was obvious from their blank faces that they had no clue where Ashqelon was, or indeed what it was. Not that they seemed to care too much either. The two goons who held his arms twisted them until he grimaced with pain.
"Don't feel so tough now, do you?" The leader of the gang, a muscle-bound brain-dead guy stepped closer to Malik. He tipped the blonde's head back and studied him, while Malik glared broadswords at him.
He bent over him and shoved his tongue down Malik's throat.
Malik clamped his teeth down hard; the gang leader staggered back, blood dribbling from his mouth, open as he howled curses. Malik spat out a mouthful of blood, his expression disgusted. "Man, that tasted awful!"
Joey watched in disbelief as Malik sassed the group of goons. There must be at least ten of them, what was he thinking! However, while this was going on he noticed that the attention of the one holding him seemed more focused on Malik. He contemplated trying to wriggle away, but stopped in shock when the gang leader bent to kiss Malik, only to stagger away immediately, bleeding. The look on Malik's face as he spit out the blood was positively scary. He almost looked as if it had been worth being hurt, just for the satisfaction of hurting the gang leader. Now, however, the other teens were truly furious, and it didn't look like Malik would be able to fight them all off at once (especially since his belt-knife was lying on the ground a few feet away, and he couldn't reach the one in his shoe). Seeing that he was being almost completely ignored, Joey decided it was time to act. He twisted nimbly out of the punk's grasp, shoving the heel of his hand into the punk's nose, breaking it. He let out a loud yell as he attacked, trying to draw the attention to himself. Malik used the distraction to free his arms, and reached for the knife in his shoe. He whipped it out, stabbing it into whatever part of the goons surrounding him that he could reach. He moved like a wildcat, ducking and twisting, seeming to land a blow with every hit but never to be touched. Finally, he ran out of targets, reaching Joey. The gang members had all either been incapacitated or fled by then. Joey was mostly okay, though he had several darkening bruises on his arms and face. Panting, he looked at Malik, who looked ferocious with the blood on his face and the dangerous gleam in his eyes.
"You okay?" Malik stepped closer and wiped a bit of blood from Joey's cheek. He turned away. "We should get out of here. Let's get you back to your house so you can get cleaned up."
"I think I can manage on my own at this point," Joey said, his heartbeat accelerated. He wasn't sure if it was from the excitement of the moment or from the close proximity he and the blonde Egyptian had been in just seconds ago. "Go home. If you get attacked again, this time I won't be around to save your ass."
Malik nodded and grinned. "By the way, you fight good." He started to leave, then stopped again. "If anybody asks…nothing happened out here tonight, right?" His grin was still in place, but his eyes begged Joey to understand.
"'Course not," Joey answered. "We worked on our project."
Relieved, Malik turned to leave again, waving nonchalantly at Joey. "Good night!"
The next day at school, when Ryou asked Malik how he'd received the bruises on his arms, Malik laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, you know, I fell down the steps on my way here and banged myself up a bit." He gave the same excuse to the teachers. Nobody was quite sure why the teachers accepted the stereotypical and obviously fake excuse, but someone pointed out that it just supported the theory of teachers' remarkably low IQ.
On the way home that day Malik strolled down the street, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He tried not to think about all of the impossible things that had been happening lately and tried to concentrate only on the future. Maybe he'd go visit Ryou today? Happily, he turned sharply to change direction, the prospect of chocolate cake looming bright, and smacked headfirst into someone behind him.