Mew: For some reason, after reading "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho, I wanted to write a story about alchemy m'self. So here you go.
Draiku: For those of you that don't know…alchemy is basically chemistry. You know, using various ingredients to make something else. Or maybe I'm wrong.
Mew: Eh…well, you get it.
Disclaimer: No own Yu-Gi-Oh or The Alchemist!
Homunculus
The alchemist reached into the bubbling pot of golden liquid with his bare hands. It was hotter than boiling water, yet he didn't even hiss at the temperature. He was focused on something else.
He had designed the being to look exactly like he wanted him to, and he made him smart, strong, athletic, and humorous. Very good qualities to put together. He smiled when he found what he was looking for and gently pulled the child out of the pot. His hands weren't even burnt, and neither was the child's skin.
He gently cradled him in his arms, wondering what to name him. The child began crying, after all, he was just a baby.
"Hush, now," the alchemist murmured in a comforting voice. The child looked up at him with big, beautiful blue eyes. "What should I call you? You need a name, after all."
"Mooshy," the child said. The alchemist smiled. The aging potion was working already. The child had the intelligence of a three-month old baby who was just making its very first noises.
"That can't be your name! You need a proper name. How does…Marik sound?" The child squealed and clapped his hands. The alchemist smiled warmly and carried him to his new bed. "I'm glad that you like it. You may call me Malik. I really wouldn't prefer 'father,' I'm only sixteen, you know." Marik giggled at him. Malik dressed him gently and put a blanket over his tiny body.
"Ma-ma!" Marik said, pointing at Malik. Malik blinked.
"Look, I know that I look girly and all, and I did create you, but I'm not your mother. I told you to call me Malik. Congratulations on your first word, by the way," he said.
"Ma…Mal-ik. Malik. Malik!" Marik pointed at him again.
"That's right! Good job, Marik. If I'm correct, in about three hours, you'll be about seventeen. I'll give you this, just in case the aging potion doesn't stop by then," Malik said. He walked back over to his table and found a light red potion that would stop the effects of the aging potion in three hours and fifteen minutes. Since Marik would age one month a minute, he'd be seventeen then. (A/N: If I did my math wrong since it was all mental, don't be afraid to correct me, 'kay? –sweatdrop-)
Malik sat down in a chair and waited. Meanwhile, Marik fell asleep, not remembering anything of his creation.
-
Marik awoke three hours later. He blinked, gazing around the room from his bed. His eyes fell on a teenager who sat in a chair, reading a small book.
"M-Malik?" Marik said. "Are you Malik?" The teen looked up, smiling.
"Yes, I am," he replied.
"Then who am I?"
"Your name is Marik."
"How do you know?"
"Alchemists know a lot."
"What's an alchemist?"
"A person who can make anything with various ingredients."
"Even…even gold?"
"That's how alchemy was created. People wanted to make gold."
"I see."
Marik asked many questions about the world, and Malik answered them all as best as he could. The alchemist secretly decided that he wouldn't tell Marik that he was a homunculus, a being created using alchemy. After all, he was conducting an experiment.
He wanted to know if homunculi could love.
It would be a hard experiment, since the definition of "love" wasn't clear.
But if he discovered that they could, he would be making a very important discovery in the history of alchemy. No-one would want to love a homunculus.
He sighed to himself one day as he cleaned out his cauldron, wondering if this was really the right thing to do. Create a being, only for that being to be a guinea pig in a complex experiment?
Malik walked into Marik's room and saw the homunculus sleeping peacefully. He took out the designs for Marik and looked at them. Marik had turned out exactly as he planned, everything was exactly as it was on the paper. Malik smiled at his success and slipped the papers back into his pocket.
"Will you hate me for this? Or will you thank me for giving you life?" Malik murmured, gazing at Marik, who didn't even stir.
-
Marik struggled to carry Malik's large cauldron, which was currently filled with jars of various ingredients.
"Why do we have to move?" he asked, setting the pot in the back of a U-haul truck.
"Alchemists are almost always on the move. We'll go to someplace new for a decade or so, then we'll move someplace else," Malik explained, placing a box of books snugly against a few other boxes.
"Are you never satisfied with the place you live?" Marik asked, bending over with his hands on his thighs.
"That's not the case. Alchemists have to move because most towns in this day and age need one so they can repair buildings, drive away huge storms, stuff like that," Malik replied.
"Oh."
"Leaving already, Malik?" said a woman's voice. Malik smiled.
"Yes, I must move on," he replied.
"But you've only been here six years," the woman said.
"Well, we alchemists have a rule that says that when our age has a six in it, we must move on. I'm sixteen, and I can't break the rules," Malik said with a shrug.
"Well, then good luck wherever you go, Malik." Malik thanked her and she left.
"Cheater," Marik grumbled.
"What'd I do?" Malik asked.
"You've only been here six years," Marik said, pouting.
"What difference does that make? I said 'a decade or so.' Besides, I've only been an official alchemist for six years," Malik replied.
They got into the truck and drove to the west.
"Hey…" Marik said. "Where are your parents?"
"Eh? Oh, when a person becomes an official alchemist, they go off on their own, no matter what age they are. I was ten, so my father let me go. I managed to get a home here with some gold I made," Malik said.
"Then…where are mine?"
"Your parents were killed when you were young. So young that I doubt that you could remember." Malik had thought up various excuses for certain questions Marik would ask before he even designed him.
"Why can't I remember being in an orphanage, then?"
"Just a few days ago you got a nasty conk on the head. I tried to bring your memories back, but even an alchemist has his limits," he said. "Sorry."
"It's okay. I don't mind." Marik decided that he didn't want to remember the orphanage. From what he read, they weren't very nice places to be.
"Ah! Here we are," Malik said after a long while, pulling up to a small house.
"You bought it ahead of time?" Marik asked. He suddenly paused. "Sorry I'm asking so many questions. I guess that I sound stupid."
"Not at all, Marik. True wisdom is found in a person who asks many questions. But to answer your question, yes, I did buy it before we got here." Malik pulled into the driveway and shut off the vehicle.
After a few hours of transporting boxes and furniture, the truck became empty. Malik and Marik immediately flopped over on the bare mattresses that had to be made into beds.
"Gods…that's probably the most work I've ever done in my life," Marik muttered. Malik chuckled softly.
"Same here. Alchemy is tiring, but not as tiring as moving," he muttered. They took a break by eating and resting for a few hours. Finally, they constructed the beds and set up their room. The house was small, it only had five rooms. A kitchen, their bedroom, a bathroom, a living room, and the study, which Malik changed into his alchemy room.
Marik and Malik carried one of the bookshelves into their room, then two more into the alchemy room. They placed the boxes of books next to them, which were classified by genre.
After a few more exhausting hours of moving, Marik and Malik finally finished putting together their home. Malik looked to the clock, then out the window. The moon was full.
"My gods!" he exclaimed. "It's almost midnight! We should get to sleep." Marik nodded in agreement.
But the main reason why Malik was upset was because homunculi would become whatever animal they were created from, except it would be in a monstrous form, during the hour of midnight on the night of a full moon. They would have no control over themselves, and most would kill many at a time within those sixty minutes of anarchy. But, if the homunculus in question didn't see the moon at exactly midnight, they wouldn't transform.
Marik and Malik lied down in their respective beds, ready to fall asleep. Marik glanced out the window and saw the beautiful silver moon. Malik noticed this, but thankfully it wasn't exactly midnight. He sighed with relief. Marik smiled and fell into a peaceful sleep. Soon after, Malik joined him.
-
Through the weeks that passed, Marik and Malik both became closer to one another. Both refused to admit it, but Malik did it because this would be a crucial time in the experiment. He wanted to see how a homunculus could handle rejection.
Marik and his friends, Bakura and Yami, were playing a game of basketball, all against each other. Marik had read about it. Basically, a few people would go against each other and see who could get the most baskets. Only one basket would be the "official" basket, and if you got a basket in any other one it would subtract one point from your score.
After about an hour, they all got tired out. They sat against the school building, drinking from their water bottles and chatting.
"So, Marik, what was elementary school like for you?" Yami asked. They had been chatting about their school years, and so far Marik was the only one who hadn't said anything.
"Me?" Marik replied. "Well…um, Malik told me that I lost all of my memory from a bad head injury, so I can't remember anything. He couldn't heal me, even if he is an alchemist." Bakura laughed out loud.
"Are you kidding me! He's been lying to you if you actually believe that!" he said, grinning. Marik raised one eyebrow.
"And why is that, Bakura?" he asked.
"You live with an alchemist, right?" he said. Marik nodded. "And you can't remember anything of your past, right?" Marik nodded again. "It's simple! You can't remember anything from elementary school because you didn't exist back then! Isn't it obvious! You're a homunculus!" Marik gasped.
"What!" he exclaimed. Yami looked sympathetic for Marik.
"A homunculus is a person or animal created from a different living thing. Alchemists can make them easily. He probably has your designs lying around somewhere," he explained. "Basically, you were born as a different animal and Malik made a potion for you. It probably had certain ingredients in it that gave you a certain look, like the spiked up hair and such. Anyway, he'd put you in there when you were the other animal, then maybe he would wait a while. After that, he'd take you out and you'd be a human being. Or at least that's how I think it works, based on books I've read."
Marik stared at his hands, almost fearfully. It wasn't possible, was it! It just couldn't be true! He stood up, his eyes squeezed shut, and ran away as fast as he could.
"It told you not to tell him," Yami said softly. Bakura sighed quietly.
"I guess you were right. I just hope he'll want to talk with us after this," he muttered.
Marik felt tears fall from his eyes and he ran into the house. Malik was nowhere in sight, in fact, he was out of the house. Marik hurried into Malik's alchemy room and found a drawer filled with records of past things. He skimmed through it until he found a picture of himself. He stared at it in disbelief, his hands shaking, then looked away. What Bakura said was true. He was a homunculus.
Marik carefully put the picture away and made his way to his room sadly. He lied in his bed and stared out the window, tears still falling from his eyes. Why did Malik create him in the first place? Did he plan on using him for something?
Marik turned over in the bed, confusing himself with different thoughts. He pulled the blanket over his head and closed his eyes.
-
"Marik, I'm home!" Malik yelled as he opened the door with his back, his hands filled with brown paper sacks. He looked around, almost expecting to see Marik walk into the room and greet him happily to help him with the groceries like he always did, but Marik was nowhere in sight.
"Marik?" he called, setting down the sacks. He walked through the house until he found Marik in their room, lying on his bed. Malik walked over quietly and looked at Marik to see if he was asleep or not. "Marik, what's wrong? You seem…depressed," he said gently, sitting next to him.
"I'm just tired," Marik replied in a murmur, not looking up.
"Are you sure?" Malik asked worriedly, putting his hand on Marik's shoulder, as if to comfort him. Marik shook Malik's hand off.
"Yeah," he replied. "Could…could you leave me alone for a while? I need to think." Malik frowned at him, worried.
"If you want me to," he muttered. He looked at Marik sadly, but respected Marik's wishes and left the room.
Malik put away the groceries and lied down on the couch, wondering what was wrong with Marik. He decided to wait until Marik was ready to speak, but he didn't know how long that would be.
Almost an hour later, Marik came downstairs and sat across from Malik on the couch, staring at the television.
"What are you watching?" he asked dully.
"Something about ancient Greece," Malik replied. "It's pretty interesting. Wanna watch it with me?"
"Sure, why not?" They watched the program until it was over. Malik flicked off the television and turned to Marik.
"Why did you look so depressed earlier?" he asked.
"I dunno," Marik replied, looking away from him.
"Yes, you do. I can tell," Malik insisted. Marik quickly made something up.
"I…well, I have no memories of my parents, and I suppose that's what's making me sad," he muttered.
"I see," Malik said softly. "That would make someone quite depressed."
"Do you think they were good people?" Marik asked. Malik smiled.
"Of course I do. I mean, like father like son, right?" he said. Marik smiled, laughing slightly.
"I guess," he said. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Malik."
"You too, Marik," Malik replied, smiling at him. Marik walked into his room and looked at the clock. It was 11:59. He looked out the window and to the full moon, then gasped, feeling a surge of pain go through his body. He let out a cry of pain and fell to his hands and knees.
He lost his sense of self and his pupils became slits. Hair grew all over his body and his ears became pointed, like a cat's. A long, thin tail grew out of his back and whipped around. His hands and feet became paws and his face grew outward slightly as his nose changed to match a cat's. His canines elongated until they were at least six inches long, and whiskers grew just above them. Spikes grew out of his back down his backbone and tail, ending with an arrow head-shaped tip at the end of his tail. He unsheathed his claws and snarled ominously, looking around.
Malik ran into the room worriedly.
"Marik, I heard a scream are you—oh, gods!" Malik's eyes widened at the sight in front of him and he fell backwards, staring fearfully.
The huge cat roared at him, glaring, and walked towards him. Malik quickly pulled out a vial of swirling, pearl-white liquid and he uncorked it, throwing the liquid at the cat. The cat yowled, and the pupils became round and friendly. Malik sighed in relief, happy that he kept that potion around, just in case.
The cat bounded up to him, claws sheathed, and jumped into his lap. Malik smiled and petted Marik gently as he put his paws under his chin, closing his eyes. The alchemist kept petting him until he gently picked him up and placed him in his bed. Malik looked towards him and watched closely until midnight was over. Marik changed back, fast asleep, and Malik smiled at him. He closed his eyes and fell asleep peacefully.
-
Marik awoke the next morning, feeling strange. He got up and took a shower, then got dressed and walked into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Marik," Malik said with a smile, handing Marik a plate of eggs and bacon.
"'Morning," Marik replied sleepily. He yawned. "For some reason, Malik, I feel like crawling into your lap and making you pet me," he said. Malik laughed out loud.
"Have you been sniffing things lately?" he asked with a grin. Marik laughed too, and Malik felt glad to see him happy again.
-
Marik was walking down the hall when he bumped into Malik, causing the alchemist to fall.
"Sorry!" Marik said quickly, helping him up. "Are you alright?" he asked, holding his hand gently.
"Yes, I'm fine," Malik replied, smiling. Marik just gazed at him and blushed, still holding his hand. Malik blinked and blushed also. "Um, Marik? You're holding my hand," Malik said softly.
"Oh! Sorry," Marik said again, quickly pulling his hand away. There was a short pause. "C-can I tell you something?" Marik asked nervously. Malik nodded.
"Sure, what?" he asked.
"Malik, I…I…never mind," Marik stuttered and quickly turned away, but Malik grabbed his shoulder.
"What is it? Just tell me," he said softly, turning Marik around.
"I…I love you!" Marik announced, squeezing his eyes shut with embarrassment. Malik gasped, pretending to be surprised.
He hated himself for what he was about to do.
Marik opened his eyes and waited for a reaction, but his heart broke when he saw Malik's glare.
"Get away from me. I don't like guys in that way," Malik said, though the words were hard to get out. He really wanted to hug Marik tightly and bury his face in his chest, but he needed to see how a homunculus would handle rejection.
Marik's eyes widened and he began to cry. He fell to the floor in a bow.
"Please, Malik! Please let me be with you! I-I need you!" he cried, tears falling to the floor and scattering. Malik gritted his teeth and looked away, ashamed of himself.
"I already told you. No. Now leave me alone." He walked past Marik and hurried to his alchemy room. He locked the door, sat on the small chair, and pressed his palms against his eye sockets, crying silently.
-
Marik avoided Malik at all costs after what happened. If Malik walked into a room he was in he'd leave. If he saw Malik in the hallway he'd turn his head away from him. If it was time to eat and Malik sat at the table, Marik would take his food elsewhere. They didn't speak with each other at all.
Marik sighed softly that night, sleeping on the couch. He turned over, facing the blank television screen. The silence was deafening. He missed hearing Malik's breathing already.
"Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, no matter what," Marik murmured. "He's the one who created me after all."
He looked to the clock. It was already three in the morning, and he was wide awake.
He sighed again, sadly, then heard footsteps coming down the stairs. The footsteps grew louder as they entered the room, and someone sat next to Marik. It was Malik.
"Why do you love me?" he asked softly. Marik said nothing. He just stared at the television screen. Malik silently waited for an answer.
"Why are you still awake?" Marik replied in a mutter. Malik sighed softly. The truth was that he couldn't stop thinking of Marik, but he didn't want to admit that.
"Just…never mind. I'm going back to sleep," Malik muttered. He paused at the stairway. "I'm sorry," he murmured. Marik gasped and looked up at Malik's silhouette.
"Wh-what?" he exclaimed in a whisper.
"I'm sorry," Malik said again, then hurriedly left. Marik got up, throwing the blanket to the floor, and hurried after him.
"Wait," he said to Malik, catching him at the top of the stairs. He gripped his shoulder tightly, not wanting him to leave. "Why did you say that?" he asked. Malik just looked away, silent. Marik frowned, then after a moment's hesitation, he asked another question. "If you can't tell me the answer to that, then…then why did you create me?"
Malik gasped, flicking his head towards Marik and staring at him with wide eyes.
"How did--!" he exclaimed.
"Bakura told me, and I saw the…well, the designs," Marik muttered. "But why? You must have had a reason." Malik looked to the floor.
"It…it was for an experiment," he mumbled. Marik gasped. "We alchemists have done many experiments on homunculi, to see if they were exactly like natural beings. We wanted to see if you had feelings, could feel pain, so many different things that I couldn't count them all. But there was one experiment that had never been done before: we wanted to know if homunculi could love.
"So I decided to conduct the experiment, so I…created you. There were three things to test: How would the homunculus in question handle rejection, how would they handle later acceptation, and the hardest one to answer of all, were they really in love?
"I'm so sorry for doing this to you. It's…it's cruel. It sometimes makes me wish that I had never become an alchemist at all."
"So…I'm just an experiment?" Marik asked, his hand on Malik's shoulder slipping back to his side. "That's my only purpose?" Malik gasped and took Marik by the shoulders.
"No, not at all! I didn't think that you were just an experiment from day one! I…I know that this sounds insane, considering what I did to you earlier, but…" Marik looked away.
"Whatever you want to say, don't say it. It's all a lie, anyway." Marik turned away from Malik and went down the stairs. He opened the door, stepped outside, and shut it, wanting to be anywhere but with Malik.
-
Marik ended up wandering around town until the shops opened, then he finally came to the local coffee shop, since he couldn't enter any of the bars. There he drank a mocha, then left and decided to go back home, having nothing else to do.
While he walked towards his home, he bumped into Bakura and Yami, who looked like they had been up all night.
"Oh, hi, Marik," Bakura said, yawning.
"Hi, guys," Marik said with a smile. "What were you doing?"
"Playing basketball to determine the champion. We wanted to invite you, but…after we saw you last…" Yami trailed off, averting Marik's gaze.
"Think nothing of it," Marik said, grinning.
"Um, sorry for kinda telling you like that," Bakura said quickly. "I didn't know that you'd get upset. Are we still friends?"
"Of course we are. And don't worry about it, really! I don't really care what I am any more." Yami and Bakura smiled gratefully.
"Thanks, Marik. We'd better get home before I fall asleep right here," Yami muttered, rubbing his eyes.
"Alright. See you two," Marik said. "Call me in a bit, alright? That last competition you had wasn't fair! I needed to be there." Yami and Bakura laughed, grinning.
"Sure, Marik. As soon as we get some rest," Bakura said. They waved and went their separate ways, then Marik came to his house again. He paused at the door, staring it, then finally opened it. It wasn't even locked, and he began to worry.
He didn't hear or see Malik when he walked in, so he searched for him hurriedly.
"Malik?" he called, looking around. He finally came to their bedroom and opened the door, then gasped. "Malik!"
There, resting against the wall, was Malik, wrists bleeding horribly. He looked extremely pale.
Marik hurried to his side and put two fingers to his neck. There was still a pulse.
"Gods," he muttered, taking Malik into his arms and lying him on the bed. He ran to the bathroom and found the potion Malik made that would heal any wound, and the potion that would make a person healthy again. He hurried back to the bedroom with the two bottles.
"Marik…" Malik mumbled, looking at him weakly. Marik drizzled the healing potion on Malik's wrists, then watched at the wounds closed up, leaving thin, red scars where they once were. He put the smaller bottle to Malik's mouth and made him drink it. Malik's skin instantly became its normal color, and his eyes brightened with life. He immediately wrapped his arms around Marik's neck, hugging him tightly.
"You came back!" he cried, burying his face in the side of Marik's neck. Marik took him by the shoulders, pulling him away to look him in the eye.
"Why did you do that?" he asked gently. Malik lowered his had sadly.
"I thought that you'd never come back," he muttered softly. "I…had nothing left to live for without you." Marik frowned.
"Because you'd never complete your experiment?" he stated sarcastically, turning away and crossing his arms over his chest. Malik looked up, tears in his eyes.
"No, that's not it at all! I…I really do love you, Marik! That's why!" he said quickly. Marik gasped, looking over his shoulder at him.
"Y-you do?" he asked. Malik nodded, blushing.
"I didn't want to live without you. I…I need you." Marik scowled and began to leave the room.
"That's a lie," he said sourly. Malik instantly got up and grabbed his shoulder.
"Please don't leave me again," he begged. "I know that I lied to you earlier, and I regret it, truly." Marik said nothing. "I'm not lying to you, Marik, and I'll never lie to you again. I love you, please believe me."
"…prove it," Marik said. "Prove that you love me." Malik hurried in front of Marik, gently grabbed his face, and pulled him into a gentle, loving kiss, closing his eyes in bliss. Marik's eyes widened, but he eventually closed them gently, wrapping his arms around Malik.
They pulled away, gazing at each other lustfully.
"There," Malik said in a murmur. "Proof." Marik instantly wrapped his arms around him tightly, hooking his chin over Malik's shoulder and crying.
"Don't do that again!" he cried. Malik blinked.
"Don't do what?" he asked softly.
"Don't try to kill yourself over me! Never do it again! I thought that you were dead!" Malik smiled gently at him, stroking his back. "Then what would I do?"
"I don't know, Marik, but I swear that I'll never try to kill myself again," Malik mumbled.
"Good." Malik smiled and hooked his chin over Marik's shoulder.
"I love you, Marik," he said softly, just loud enough for Marik to hear.
"I love you too, Malik," Marik replied, smiling happily.
End
Mew: Hopefully you didn't find that too weird. Anywho, I enjoyed writing it.
Draiku: Bleh. I no like it.
Mew: -slaps Draiku-
Yoko: -watches the two get into a slap fight- Er, just R&R, please?