.:.Hellfire.:.
Summary: Yami no Malik and Yami no Bakura have been sent to Hell. And they're about to drag their hikaris down with them.
Chapter 3: Pain of Separation
(About the time Mariku and Bakura are busy terrorizing Lucifer in his office)
"Weekends are the worst." Malik griped.
"Yeah." Ryou agreed. Malik had been moved back to Domino and enrolled in school after the banishment of their yamis. He didn't like it much, but it kept him generally out of trouble.
For now they were at Ryou's apartment again, though for lack of things to do they were merely sitting at the kitchen table. Or ON the kitchen table, in Malik's case.
Ryou drew in a sharp breath as something seemed to poke into his side. At the same time, Malik gasped, losing his balance and nearly falling- despite the fact that he had been sitting quite securely.
"Oof…" he heard the other teen muttering.
"What the hell was that?" he asked.
"Dunno." Malik muttered, arms wrapped around himself as he slowly sat up. "'S like something took a bite out of my lung."
Ryou could feel something- a slight burning around his heart, as though the heat of his blood had increased. But at least it hadn't made him fall over.
"First boredom, now this. What the hell was Yami thinking when he sent them to the Shadow Realm?"
"I dunno." Malik said, biting his lip. "But I miss Mariku."
Ryou sighed.
"I miss Bakura, too." he admitted quietly.
(Some time after Filora talked to them)
"Ra-damn it all, does this place make any sense!" Mariku cursed. "This is the third time we've passed that damn hydrant!"
"What is this place doing with a fire hydrant, anyway?" Bakura asked dreamily. Three hours after the meeting with Filora, and the ache around his ribs had turned to a constriction, making him go slightly dizzy from lack of air. Right now he was watching the firelit glow on Mariku's golden skin; it made shadows and glimmery highlights and looked very interesting all around.
Mariku was currently walking along at an increased pace, Bakura guessed out of frustration with not finding the place.
"Hey, Mariku?" he asked. The blonde turned to him.
"Yes?"
"Wouldn't you say that looks like the description?" He pointed to the five-story building he'd glimpsed through the alleyway. Mariku looked.
"Yay! You found it!" he cried happily, giving Bakura's head a messy hug and running that way. Bakura followed, annoyedly trying (keyword- trying) to save his thick hair from Mariku's abuse. Unfortunately, the tangles kept him from running his hands through it properly, and he soon gave up.
Mariku examined the script on the door, but was unable to read it. He thought this was the right number, though.
Something was going on- the longer he stayed here, the more his limbs burned, as if the blood in his veins had been turned to fires like those that flickered everywhere, filling his ears with a soft, crackling white noise.
"Bakura! Is this the right one?" he demanded.
The silver-haired thief eyed the door speculatively.
"Hai." he responded, leaning against the wall as if bored. Mariku was bored, too (aside from the overall drag of 'moving hurt'). But he was hoping things were about to get a lot less boring.
"Ding-dong." the bell rang. Silence.
"Dingdongdingdongdingdongdingdong!"
Bakura was snickering next to him, his reddish eyes and silvery hair standing out in the near darkness of the hallway. The elongated canines gleamed for a moment when he laughed. Boy, Bakura would be freaky- if Mariku was sane enough to care.
"Impatient, aren't we?" he commented, a breathless tone sneaking into his already husky voice.
"Yes." Mariku responded, mashing the button again.
The door was whipped open, and Mariku blinked as he actually had to look up at the girl who was glaring at them. She had hair like fire- citrine at the roots and ruby at the ends, carelessly chopped short and ruffled. She wore a short, pleated gray skirt and a black tank top. Her figure was slim, her body rail-thin, which was even freakier due to her height. Her eyes were flat, charcoal black, with no shine to them at all.
Shinryakuteki Kazan, daughter of Filora and Zangan Kazan, was not happy when she came home. Food did not keep well in Hell, but she was the only one who cared- fire spirits didn't eat. She wasn't a full fire spirit- she was half 'alien thing with fire powers.' Or whatever the hell Zangan was. Nobody knew.
So she was hungry, pissed off at the stupid person who had tried to molest her on the street, and even more pissed off because her mother was a fool without an ounce of purpose in her life.
However, her day improved slightly when she opened the broom closet to discover a terrified-looking Lucifer, who attempted to ward her off with a broom until he realized who she was.
And then he was understandably respectful- all Hell knew about Filora, the one who had caused several disastrous volcanic eruptions (the most notable being Vesuvius and Mt. St. Helens), dared to publicly humiliate Lucifer, and who had gone off and gotten married to the oldest creature on Earth- the alien whose age was approximate to the planet itself.
And most fire spirits were slightly nervous of their daughter, who, at a little over 6 feet, was taller than most fire spirits, but weighed in at the human equivalent of 101 pounds.
"What are you doing in our broom closet?" she asked the 'mighty lord of Hell.'
"I'm hiding from the crazy humans!" he cried. "You can't tell them I'm here! Please!"
Pfft. Groveling. Pathetic. At least Filora had dumped him years ago. Really the spirit was over 5000 years old and he was pleading with her to hide him. She was barely three years.
"You want me to hide you?"
"Please! Please, you have to! Don't let them know I'm here, if they come!"
"Fine, fine–"
The doorbell rang, and Lucifer's eyes widened in panic. He jerked the door closed.
The doorbell started up a cacophony of noise.
"Jeez." Shinrya muttered. "Is somebody playing the damn doorbell game?" She smirked. "If so, they better run fast."
The bell shrilled yet again.
"Very fast." she muttered, and yanked it open. She looked down an inch or two into reddish-glinted violet eyes set in a tanned face and outlined in heavy kohl, golden eye symbol set on his forehead.
"What is it?" she asked.
"We're looking for Scaredy-silly–" the blonde was cut off by an elbow from the pale shadow, which he reacted to rather more violently than the force deserved.
"We're looking for Lucifer." the elbow-jabber said.
"Why look here?" she asked, putting genuine curiosity into her voice.
"Pretty-hair–"
The shadow elbowed him again.
"Stop that-! That hurts!"
Red eyes sent a withering look his way.
"Filora sent us."
"Right." she said with a smirk, stepping aside and jerking a thumb inside. "He's in the broom closet."
Behind her she heard a choke.
Sao: Thank you those who have reviewed. I'm glad I did some inspiring. This fic was inspired by Final Judgement by Neko-chan -Silvered Tongue-. That's the truly amazing fic, though it is a one-shot.
Yes, this does have OC's in it. They are all fire spirits, and they're all related. They play a large role in the future. Hopefully they and their personalities will come across well. XP I worry about these things.
Reviewers are luffed, remember!
