Staffshipping (Marik x Mana)

(This is one that I missed, I'm dropping it in to fill in the hole.)


Only the computer screen illuminated the small, stone chamber. Marik Ishtar flicked through web site after web site, learning and re-learning every single piece of information he had.

The pharaoh's name in this world was Yugi Mutou. He lived above a game shop in Japan. He had been completely unknown in the gaming world up until he defeated Seto Kaiba in a surprising turnabout. And why was Marik sure that this was the pharaoh reincarnated? The interesting series of strange accidents that seemed to surround the gaming prodigy's high school...

He rolled the Millennium Rod between his fingers in his free hand. Battle City. Battle City was where he would face down the pharaoh that had destroyed his life. Only a month, now...not long...

Skritch, skritch.

Marik glanced up, towards the open doorway. The computer screen was the only light in his room, and it did nothing to break the darkness that hovered just outside into the corridor. He frowned, clenching the Millennium Rod a little more tightly. If there was one thing he hated, it was being forced to use the old Tombkeeper catacombs as his base of operations. It was the only place he could run such a huge, world-wide organization without being found – after all, the Tombkeepers had never been discovered for thousands of years. And after Marik had left, the rest of his clan had fled to the outside world, leaving the tombs and their magic for Marik's use alone. Only he and Rishid remained down below, and only when it was necessary. A few other Ghouls were occasionally present, but not tonight. Marik was sure of it.

So who was walking outside in the corridor...?

"Rishid?" Marik prompted.

No answer. He had expected as much; Rishid was busy getting rid of the snakes that had taken up residence in the old testing chamber for the fake god cards. Marik wanted to test a few more before the tournament, and he couldn't have his Ghouls dying of snake bites before they had a chance to summon the god.

His lips tightened. Maybe it had only been a mouse.

Skritch, skritch. Hmmm-hm-hmm.

No, that was definitely a human voice – someone humming? Marik quietly pushed out of his chair. Quiet as a shadow, he slipped to the doorway, and looked both ways down the corridor. He saw nothing, but that was normal. It was extremely dark down here; not even a nocturnal animal would be able to see well, and Marik did not dare light a torch.

It seemed to be coming from the right. Marik frowned. That was the way to the deepest part of the chambers.

That was where the dead were buried.

Hmm-hmm-hm. Hm-hm, hm-hmm-hmm-hm.

Marik tightened his grip on the Millennium Rod. Then he stepped into the darkness.

Even in the dark, he knew every step of the way down this hall. He made a point to memorize the turns, the length, the potholes. He did, however, cause a few stones to scatter, and nearly swore. He didn't want to frighten off the intruder before he had had a chance to discover what they were doing here.

The humming grew louder as he neared, taking the right turns as they came. He almost dropped the rod once; his palms were starting to become slick with sweat. He didn't want to admit it...

But he was afraid of entering the tomb itself.

He entered the main burial chamber. There were several sarcophagi here. The one in the center, on a raised dais, was said to be the pharaoh himself. Marik had half considered ransacking it and burning the corpse, but that seemed somehow childish to him. He would take his revenge on the living soul, not the crumbling corpse. There were three other sarcophagi surrounding the dais, and no one was quite sure who they were. The knowledge had been warped and lost with time.

And then it occurred to him.

Why can I see the sarcophagi? It should be pitch black.

There didn't appear to be any torches burning. And the light was soft, almost blue in nature. It lay gently over the chamber like a thin mist, a dim light, but a light none the less.

The humming was clear now. Marik hesitated within the darkness of the corridor, wary. He listened closely, trying to see if there were words.

There wasn't. But the song itself was more clear. It was...sad, he realized. There was the hint of a choked throat behind the sound, and every now and then, he heard a breath catch. A crying tomb robber? That was a new one.

But the song...it...hurt. Marik felt his heart pang. For a moment, he thought inexplicably of Ishizu. Where was she now, he wondered? He hadn't seen her since he had stolen Obelisk, and she had tried to stop him.

And he had nearly killed her.

A tear rolled down his cheek of his own accord. Damn this – damn the pharaoh for tearing his family apart like this, for killing his father, for locking them away below the earth for thousands of years, for making his sister stay on the wrong side like a brain-washed sheep and pitting her against him –

"Why are you crying?"

The voice was soft, but startling in the quiet. Marik leapt back, thrusting the Millennium Rod in front of him –

A girl stood in front of him. She was shorter than him, a slender but curvy thing with tanned skin like an Egyptian. Dark green eyes looked up at him from under thick brown bangs. Her brown hair stuck out messily behind her, some of it flipped a bit upwards at the ends, and some of it falling down her back. She was dressed in a short, canvas colored dress, and she clasped her hands behind her. There was some kind of staff in her hands, he could see the ends sticking out from behind her. He had seen pictures of staffs like that – that was a magician's weapon.

"Who are you?" Marik asked, keeping the Millennium Rod between them.

The girl was studying the rod, looking confused, her brows coming together.

"You have the rod," she said. "Are you the head of the Tombkeepers? You're very young for that."

Marik's lips tightened. So she knew about the Millennium Items and the Tombkeepers, huh? That was interesting.

"How do you know about the Tombkeepers?" he asked. "What are you doing down here?"

The girl blinked at him for a minute. Then she closed her eyes with a smile.

"My name is Mana," she said. "What's yours?"

Marik almost dropped his rod. She was completely ignoring his questions! Who was this girl?

"I...I am Marik Ishtar," he said.

"Oh!" Mana said, clapping her hands together. "Now I know why you look familiar! You're a descendant of my friend Isis! You look a lot like her grandson!"

"W-what?"

Marik lowered the rod slightly, but then he jerked it back up.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "Who the hell are you, and what are you doing down here?"

Mana cocked her head.

"Well...I already told you. My name is Mana. And I'm here because...well..."

She shrugged a bit helplessly.

"Nowhere else for me to go, I guess?"

Marik frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Mana pointed back towards the sarcophagi. Marik followed her finger – and did a double take. He looked at her again. Had he seen – No, wait... He tilted his head slightly. Mana looked...

Transparent.

"You're...dead."

"Apparently," Mana said with a nervous giggle.

Marik held the rod up for another second. Then he let his arm drop. The rod would have no effect on a ghost.

"You're one of the ones buried here?"

"Uh-huh."

"So that's why you know about the Tombkeepers."

Mana nodded.

"And the items. My master used to be Priest of the Ring, you know. I inherited it after...after he died."

"Is he buried here too?"

Mana shook her head. There was the hint of tears in her eyes.

"He can't be...no body," she said.

Marik's shoulders slumped. Even dead, this girl was hurting for the ones she had lost.

"I'm...sorry."

Mana smiled, her eyes still teary at the edges.

"Oh, it's fine. I get to see him in the afterlife..."

"Then why are you here?"

Mana ducked her head.

"Well...waiting, I guess."

"Waiting?"

Mana bounced back and forth on her heels for a minute.

"What about you, Marik? Why are you down here? The head of the Tombkeepers never comes down into the burial chamber. And come to think of it, I haven't seen any of the Tombkeepers at all, lately. There used to be this woman who would come and see me...what happened to her?"

Marik's hands clenched into fists.

"The Tombkeepers are no more," he said. "They have left the catacombs. There is only me...and I will never consider myself a Tombkeeper again."

Mana cocked her head, looking confused.

"They're...gone?" she said. "Everyone? Even Ishizu?"

Marik felt like he had been punched in the gut.

"I-Ishizu?"

"Yeah, Ishizu. She looks like my friend Isis, and she stumbled down here once, I think she was lost, and that's how we met. She came down here and talked to me a lot. What happened to her? Did she leave too?"

Marik's hands were shaking.

"Yes...she left too."

"But why?" Mana said. "Why are they gone? Why did they leave? Why?"

"Because of the pharaoh! Because of the damn nameless pharaoh!" Marik spat.

Mana flinched backwards.

"You must not have been paying attention, is that it?" Marik said, stepping closer to Mana, making her back up until she was against the wall. "You weren't around when the pharaoh killed my father. You weren't here when he ripped my family apart and brain-washed my sister into think that I'm in the wrong, that the pharaoh is some kind of hero. Well I'll tell you something – we're all being deceived! The pharaoh is no hero! He is the one that destroyed my life –"

Mana's hand whipped up. Marik had to step back as she pushed her staff right into his face.

There was a ferocity in her eyes that made Marik clench the Millennium Rod a little tighter.

"You take that back," she said under her breath. "Take it back!"

"Take what back?" Marik said, both angry and confused.

"What you said about the pharaoh! Take it back! He is too a hero, and he would never kill anybody!"

"You're wrong," Marik snapped.

Fury bubbled in his veins – he should have known that this girl was a loyalist, she was buried in the pharaoh's own tomb!

"Then tell me – where were you three thousand years ago, huh?" Mana said.

Marik raised the Millennium Rod, ready to defend himself – and paused.

Tears were bubbling down Mana's cheeks in waterfalls. Her eyes were scrunched up so tight he wondered if she could even see.

"You – you don't – have any idea –" she sobbed. "You don't know – what he did for us – for everyone – "

"I know what he did to me," Marik growled.

"You're – you're wrong!"

It seemed to be the only thing that Mana was able to choke out. She dropped to her knees, sobbing so hard that her entire body was shaking. Marik hesitated. Her tears were dropping to the ground, but they left no mark behind.

Marik felt almost...a little bit guilty. She seemed so distraught...

But she was a loyalist. She, who had lived during the reign of the nameless pharaoh and was still blind to his darkness and cruelty? He could only sneer at her.

"You'll realize it eventually," he said coldly. "When I defeat the pharaoh and send him into the darkness, then you'll see that he was not the person you thought he was."

Mana's eyes flashed up at him, her fury sending daggers at him.

"No, you'll the one who'll realize it," she said. "When you face against him, you'll learn what really happened...you'll learn that you're the one who's wrong."

But then her ferocity melted into more tears.

"I hope you learn that soon, Marik," she whispered. "Because I'm sure your sister is missing you, as much as I miss him."

And just like that, Mana disappeared.

Marik stood stock still in the corridor for a long moment. That eerie blue light had faded, and he was completely in the darkness once more.

"I'm right," he said into the darkness. "You're wrong."

The words rang hollowly in the corridor.


A/N: I cannot squelch my Vaseshipping tendencies. X3 I think if these two met before Marik faced the pharaoh, they would have trouble liking each other...maybe they'll be friends after Marik realizes that he's wrong. Next is Sprayshipping (Set x Ryouta x Shizuka).