Chapter 9: What if I don't know him?
This is the last time I'll be doing reviewer responses for awhile, due to a rumor that they are not allowed anymore… But just know, that I read and cherish every single review you submit. Seriously. Reviews my life source. So just because I don't respond, that doesn't mean don't review!
BakuraXMalik's Boys- Finally got around to reading it, huh? I've read like, the first 10. Hah/feels slightly superior/ Also, I went to Canada and bought Yu-Gi-Oh R #1, and Yu-Gi-Oh #23 and 24, in Japanese. 'Cuz I've been studying it by myself for 2 years, and… yeah. I like bragging about it. Sorry. /sweat drops/
AnimeJunky- Thanks for reviewin', as always.
yugirules- I try, thanks. Glad you liked that chapter!
Akio the Dragon Master- You rant to yourself at night, eh? I count the bunnies in my head. Sometimes, I could swear they multiply, but I don't like to do math.
- glomps Yuugi -- Whoosh-y? Fun word! And goggling at Marik's cape should be a pastime. It fact, it probably already is.
dragonlady222- You're still wrong! Then again, when Yugi actually starts falling for Marik, he doesn't even know it. But you know how it will end up, anyway. /Is wearing a t-shirt that says 'Assertive Yugi Rocks'/
kenmeishouri- I'm not a huge Yami fan… He's okay, but I'm still mad that he lost Yugi's soul. Even if he did get it back. :P The bigot.
The TV was on. It bathed the living room in a soft, shifting glow. Marik's high, thin eyebrows, his thick eye make-up, his sharp nose and pointy chin were all illuminated softly. His bangs fell slightly into his line of vision, curving over his eyes like palm trees. He was so intent upon concentrating on the white noise in his head that he didn't realize his lighter half was approaching him.
"Marik?" When Marik grunted in response, Malik smiled just kindly enough to lilt without cloying. "I was wondering why you haven't gotten back my money from Yugi? If I remember right, you did say you would do that. So why haven't you—is that Mtv?"
"And if you ask me to, Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird/I'ma buy you the world./I'ma buy a diamond ring for you, I'ma sing for you, I'ma do anything for you to make you smile."
"I guess so," Marik grumbled. "I mean, it probably is. The remote's broken. This is Vh1, I think."
"Why do you say that?" Malik asked.
"Because there were Vh1 commercials," Marik pointed out. "And I don't think they'd be showing commercials for a different channel."
"Ah," Malik said wisely. "You know I think it's really stupid that Vh1 thinks we want to watch a commercial advertising something we're already watching." Marik and Malik both stared at the screen until the music video ended. As the last threatening notes played, Malik took a good look at his darker half. Marik had the veins in his face stretched out, and his teeth were clenched. He regarded the video tensely. Malik didn't think it was the fault of Eminem, so…
"Did Bakura make you eat spinach again?" Malik asked, placing his hand on his darker half's shoulder. Unlike anybody else in his family, he actually cared about his yami, who, right now, was alternating gazing between the television and the thick, cobweb-like shadows over in the corner of the room.
"Bakura?" Marik didn't emit a response. "It wasn't Bakura, then? Was the Pharaoh bothering you?" Malik was so surprised that rather than taunt his soi-disant better half, he could only look at his dark reflection with anxiety, his mouth open an inch—a mini-gape. Marik was so out of tune with his surroundings… it wasn't like him. Marik was constantly alert, especially when present in the Ishtar household, since he tried to avoid Ishizu and Odion.
Not to Malik's great surprise, and to his medium displeasure, Marik looked pissed once the mention of the Pharaoh came up, and he immediately began explaining. "His accomplice, yes. I broke some stuff in the bathroom. Mirrors." Marik smirked, tried to make his smile long and smooth, his eye-lids half-lidded. But he couldn't manage to look like a psychopath. He just looked like a lonely figure in a costume.
"Shit," Malik sneezed. "Why in the heck would you do that? …Do I sound sick again?"
Marik wiggled uncomfortably on the couch. "Ishizu'll be mad. But… it's uh, your turn to take the blame this time, right?" he observed.
"Are you uncomfortable blaming things on me?" Malik snorted. "No wonder everyone hates you. Nobody likes an awkward person."
"The Pharaoh's gaki-me is being troublesome," Marik complained. He hugged his knees and rocked himself gently back and forth. Four identical violet orbs, quadruplets, looked up when the doorbell rang loudly.
"That's probably Ishizu and Odion. You get it. I'm going to go see the mess you made in the bathroom," Malik advised. Marik thanked him. (Another sign that Marik wasn't himself.) "No prob, Bob," Malik replied.
"It's Marik," Marik corrected. Malik smirked and made his way to the bathroom. Marik headed over to the door and grabbed the knob. Taking a few quick breaths and bracing himself, he prepared to yell at the top of his lungs at the returning duo of Odion and Ishizu. Marik swung the door open with a vengeance, screaming, "AWAY, FOUL DEMONS!"
Yugi blinked at the loud, obnoxious Egyptian in the doorway. Marik blinked, then jumped back. "YOU!" he shouted.
Yugi blinked again and pushed up his… glasses. Marik's eyes widened considerably, causing the veins on his face to pop out. "Um, yes, it's me."
"You're wearing glasses," Marik realized, astonished and at once fascinated.
"Yes; I am wearing glasses."
"Coool…" Ishizu had a pair of reading glasses. Glasses made her look like a dorky-but-cute librarian who was also a klutz. Ishizu wasn't even really that much of a bookworm, actually. "Why are you wearing glasses?"
Yugi blinked. "Uhm? Oh. I'm going to the movies. My vision's not perfect, so I need them to see the screen… anyway, my mom's making me stop here and apologize on my grandfather's behalf. See, he takes medicine, and he kind of skipped it today, and… uh…" Yugi froze. The rest of the sentence was implied, but Marik was just staring at him as if he was a dull statue.
Marik's heart beat a little faster. "Why are you here?" he asked.
Yugi licked his dry lips and looked cheesed off. "I just said. Hey, could you stop staring…?" he suggested, because Marik couldn't tear his eyes away from Yugi's glasses. The frames were thin, made of bright brass. Every time Yugi blinked, he resembled an owl. It was darned cute. And Marik couldn't look away. Yugi twitched. "You haven't heard a word I just said!" he accused.
Marik growled lowly, like a dog. "I have listened. You apologized for your grandpa. You did not apologize for your actions, baka no gaki-me."
"Me?" Yugi's nose wrinkled. "I know I should probably, but I won't." Yugi said won't like a little kidding pouting, the same way someone might say, "I don't wanna!" Marik stared at his glasses. "Stop it," Yugi said through gritted teeth. "Stop staring at me. Stop everything. I don't understand why you keep bothering me. You don't even like me, so why the heck are you always near me?" Now Yugi's voice was higher, a tad hysterical.
Marik just stared. "I… like your glasses, though. And if I like your glasses, I'm going to damn well stare at them, whether you want me to or not. I don't listen to you!"
"My glasses…?" Yugi reached up with one hand and adjusted them. "Oh. Well, thanks, I guess. You suck, by the way, and if you ever come by my house again, I swear that I shall unleash the full wrath of jiichan upon you," he threatened. Marik stared at Yugi.
"…Which is bad," Yugi explained. Marik stared at Yugi some more. The shorter blonde became flustered. He clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "STOP IT!" he yelled. The shorter blonde performed a volte-face and left, walking at a casual pace down Marik's front walk. Marik still stared after him, imagining his glasses. They struck Marik as… kawaii. Yes, definitely kawaii. Not Yugi, of course, but the glasses. They were cute. They made him look cute, in a Negi (from Negima!) way. They made him look cute, Marik realized. He shook his head. "Okay then… Yugi has cute glasses?"
«Sacre bleu!»