Author's Note: So weddings are a lot of work. Who knew? I suppose being the maid of honor might have required a bit more work than I'm used to. But it was great and fun and wonderful all the same. But I'm back now. Truth be told, I had a bit of trouble with this chapter getting started, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I find that humor may not be the best category for this story in the coming future (and hell, I'm probably not as funny as I think I am), so I shall update that soon.
And as always, thank you for reading and all the feedback. If you like, please leave a review/fav/follow!
Disclaimer: Still not owning Yu-Gi-Oh! That is all. Rated T.
Bon appetite!
Bakura found himself just staring at the two strangers who entered the smoothie shop. He couldn't believe it. After researching and following wild goose chases for the Millennium Rod, the very object of his search sat 10 feet away, enjoying a smoothie with his friend. Or brother. Or guardian. Bakura remembered Ishizu mentioning that Odion was Marik's guardian since their father died. That seemed like a footnote compared to the fact that his criminal competitor, the teenager who was responsible for his migraine for the last week, was giggling like a schoolgirl talking to Odion while sucking down a strawberry-banana smoothie.
That little bastard.
Bakura, in spite of his incredibly good luck in this moment, still felt frustrated. All his research meant nothing. The only reason Bakura found Marik was because Marik decided he was thirsty. And as convenient as that was, it was also annoying as hell. Bakura turned his head away from the two visitors and looked at his drink. He found Marik. He found the thief who stole the Millennium Rod. Now what?
All right. Stay calm. Don't blow this. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. I just need to stay close. Bakura narrowed his eyes. Marik had the Rod. If he stuck around him, Bakura would find out where the Rod was hidden. Then, he could steal it back. Marik was a novice – he might have gotten the Rod once before, but half of the battle is keeping your possessions secret and hidden. Marik had already failed on one account.
Bakura closed his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. He focused only on the sound of the two foreigners talking a couple feet over. It wasn't hard because Marik's voice practically cut above all other noise. It was more difficult to hear Odion, whose voice was almost like a soft murmur. Bakura found himself straining to hear the older man talk. Thankfully for Bakura, Marik was apparently the chattier of the two.
"God, I love smoothies. We should go here everyday, Odion. Or we should get a smoothie machine. One of the two." Marik chattered without end. Odion just nodded, watching Marik as he happily rambled. "How do you make a smoothie? It's just fruit and ice? Do you just put in a blender? Odion! We have to look up how to make smoothies when we get back home." Marik continued his pointless rant. Bakura growled. How much pointless chitchat was he going to have to sit through? This could be very long day.
"Sure, Marik. How were your classes today?" The voice was a low whisper compared to his companion's. Marik just shrugged. "Okay I guess. I don't really care for my biology class, but art class was pretty cool. We started looking at art from the Rococo period."
Odion gave Marik a bemused smile. "I thought you said you hated history? Isn't that why you dropped your world history course after one day?" To Bakura's surprise, Marik glared at Odion. Not a glare of annoyance, but a much darker glare. "Want me to read up on Ancient history? I'll pass."
Odion just glanced away from Marik, the subtext clear between the two. Bakura narrowed his eyes, thinking the exchange as odd. Odd, but irrelevant at the moment. Frankly hearing about this kid's school day was just boring him. "Fine. I suppose you enjoy Rococo art then?" Odion asked diplomatically.
Marik nodded his head enthusiastically, his golden jewelry bouncing. "Yeah, it developed in France in the late 1700s in contrast to the strict protocols of the Baroque period. We don't spend a lot of time on the history as much as we do studying the art and learning how to apply the style in our own creative pieces." Marik gave Odion a smile, his lavender eyes sparkling. "There's a lot of life to the art style. The Baroque style was interesting, but it felt… confined. I like the focus change – there's something more jovial and lighthearted about this style."
Bakura suddenly realized he was staring at Marik, who beamed with glee and confidence. He quickly turned his head away, trying to figure out why his face had turned red. It's because I was staring at him while I was eavesdropping. What kind of thief gets caught spying like that? That had to be why. Bakura would sooner shoot himself that let himself get embarrassed like that.
Odion smiled back at the radiant young man. "Well if you're enjoying your art classes, perhaps you could add a class. You still have time to pick up one. And you're only part-time," Odion suggested, taking a sip of his raspberry smoothie. Marik just waved away the suggestion. "I don't have time. We have business to take care of. Work first, classes second."
Bakura straightened slightly. Is this it? He felt himself growing more anxious, eager to move on to work-related topics. Odion, however, had other plans. "Marik, you've got your whole life to work. I don't think you want to go down this career path your whole life – why not keep your options open? If you like art classes, keep taking them."
"Odion." Marik cut off the older man. "No. I didn't come all the way to Japan to take art classes. I'm here for work. This is important to me." Marik put his drink down before leaning towards Odion. "Are you going to help me or not, brother?" Their eyes locked as Odion just studied the teen sitting across from him.
Marik trying to be serious was like a puppy trying to appear solemn. Something about that image didn't seem to work for Bakura. Marik was just too naïve and happy-go-lucky. Bakura supposed that his time driving himself nuts researching Marik may have demonized the kid in his mind. Seeing him sitting at the smoothie shop talking about his art classes made him appear to be much younger. The way he had been laughing and chatting happily beforehand, his excitement over drinking a smoothie with his supposed elder brother, the way the sunlight seemed to glow off his bronze skin…
Bakura. He stole the Rod. Business first. Get the rod or your ass will be grass. Bakura commanded himself to clear his mind. This Marik kid was messing with his head more than he should be. He thought back to his date with Mai earlier that week and what she had said. Correction. Get the Rod, and afterwards get laid. There. Problem solved.
Odion finally sighed after what seemed like an eternity. "Fine. I have been scoping for information, but this isn't the place to talk about it. We should find somewhere more secluded." Marik just nodded, his face focused as he stood up from the table. He was just about to walk out when he ran back to grab his unfinished smoothie. Bakura just sat at his table, avoiding eye contact as he watched the two Egyptian men walk out.
The moment they stepped outside, Bakura grabbed his stuff. He flung his satchel across him and pulled his jacket over. He didn't even bother throwing out his drink, letting the employees to grumble about cleaning up. He stepped back outside as the cold greeted him again. He pulled his black coat closer to his body as he scanned the students milling about outside. He spotted his targets, the tall Egyptian man standing above the entire crowd. They were walking towards a path leading behind the business school.
Bakura walked briskly, trying to appear casual to anyone watching, but not willing to lose the two men. He was fairly new to the campus – Bakura had never taken classes. Ryou had gotten his two-year degree in business and found a position working in a game store. He had tried to convince Bakura to settle down and do the same. As if he would ever.
The two brothers walking ahead of him walked around the business school, the path turning to dirt. Bakura peered around to see a creek running behind the building, the woods starting and the foliage becoming thicker. A well-worn path followed along the streaming. Marik and Odion walked down for a bit, Bakura watching a bit. There was nobody outside on the trail. While this would give them privacy, but Bakura would have a job trying to stay concealed and be close enough to listen in. He dug around his pockets to find a spare hair tie. Ryou always left them everywhere around the house. Since this was Ryou's coat, Bakura figured he would find one.
He pulled his hair back before pulling up his hood. He moved slowly, careful to keep out of the line of vision of his prey. They had chosen a spot a bit off the path closer to the creek. Bakura stepped off the path, slowly weaving between the trees. He finally saw where he could hide behind and remain close. Careful to not brush through the fallen leaves, he crept silently to a large tree, the trunk splitting into two equally large trees. A large bush extended out from the tree, giving him the coverage needed as he leaned against the tree. He was downwind and as he settled against the tree, he could catch most of the conversation. Thankfully, it sounded like he hadn't missed much.
"…I've gotten nothing on Ms. Valentine, but I finally got somewhere with that guy Jounouchi." Odion explained. Bakura instantly perked up. There was no doubt who this Valentine lady was. Jounouchi was also a familiar name – he was a correspondent of his client. He had only met with him once when accepting the commission. They were talking about the Millennium case. Perfect.
"Finally! Were you able to set-up an exchange?" Marik asked, impatience evident in his voice. Odion grunted in what sound in disagreement. "No. It appears it won't be as easy as that."
Marik grumbled. "Well why not? We have the Rod – the job was to collect the Millennium items. Why can't we just exchange the one we have now?" Bakura had to bite back a chuckle. Impatient brat. Odion just sighed. "Little brother, do you want the short answer or the long answer?"
"I don't care what answer you give me! I just want to meet with Yami!" Marik whined, his frustration growing. Bakura held back a snort. Ignorant brat. Not just anyone could meet with Yami. Hell, Bakura had only met Yami on two occasions and both were interviews for his current commission. Bakura knew he made it big when Yami asked him to track down the seven Millennium Items.
Yami was somewhat of a legend – he just went by the name Yami, no surname. He was like Madonna. No one knew his real name, a carefully guarded secret. He walked the fine line of illegal activities while keeping all of his personal actions in legal obscurity. He was very cautious and very clever. Word had it that he received an immense inheritance, but with his wits and cunning, he carefully invested. He was one of the richest men on the planet, and he did it all by carefully playing that thin line between law and crime.
To meet Yami was an incredible honor, let alone be hired by him. True there was something about Yami's personality that rubbed Bakura that rubbed him the wrong way. The guy was too arrogant for his own good. For a rather short man, he held himself like Napoleon. Like he was king or something. He suspected that Yami did not care for him either. But that didn't matter. Yami wanted something. Bakura had the skills. It was an awkward match made in heaven.
Bakura cleared his thoughts as he listened for Odion's response. "It's not that simple." Odion seemed to have infinite patience for the young man before him. "We can't meet with Yami. He doesn't meet with just anybody. We weren't hired so he's not interested in doing business."
Marik yelled out in frustration. "That's just stupid! He wants the Millennium Items! I have one. Why the frig won't he do business?" Bakura suspected he knew the answer before Odion replied. If Marik were the intelligent criminal he wants to make himself out to be, he should have also figured it out. Stupid brat.
"Because Yami interviews all contractors he might employ before offering them the job. This is a highly dangerous and risky job. If one of the specialists employed under him screwed up, it could create a huge risk for his own business. He won't hire a novice on this job. And even though we did well to get one of the Items, we're not professionals. We're new to this field. We can't expect Yami to simply meet with us because we just happened across the Rod. There's too many variables and risks on his end to make it worth his time." Odion calmly explained, seemingly distant from the whole situation.
There was a long silence between the two, as Marik seemed to be thinking. Guess the kid is trying to figure out what to do next. Marik didn't seem like a guy who thought too far into the future. It was clear that this refusal to meet with him had completely thrown the kid off his game. Short-sighted brat.
After what felt like hours, Marik spoke quietly, in an almost defeated tone. "So what do you recommend we do now?" Odion took on the role of diplomat once again. "At this point, I recommend we find a buyer for the Rod. Jounouchi will not make any transactions with us unless he's allowed to research the two of us. And that's out of the question. So our best bet is to try pawning it off."
Marik started pacing at this point. "We can't do that though. The whole point of getting the Rod was so that I could sell the Rod to Yami. So that I could meet him in person. Selling the Rod would get us nowhere." Bakura dared to take a glance around the tree trunk, careful to stay in the shadows.
He saw Odion as he shook his head. "Perhaps it would take us off the Millennium case. But we would gain a reputation for stealing the Rod. Word will get around that we were the ones who stole the Rod and sold it off to the highest bidder. Something that other experienced thieves have been commissioned to do for their own client. That would be a start." Odion gave a sympathetic look to his little brother. "You can't expect people to hire you if you don't have the experience, especially someone as high-profile as Yami. This is a big case – if we take the time to build your reputation…"
"We don't have time, Odion. This can't wait. I can't wait." Marik snapped, running a hand through his platinum gold hair. Bakura thought about their exchange. Perhaps it was incidental, but he noticed how Odion left himself out in the pronoun game. It changed from a "we" game to a "Marik" game. Bakura thought that was odd. It was almost as if Odion was distant to the entire project all together. He remembered that they were brothers. Perhaps Odion isn't a willing participant in this fiasco.
Bakura was trying to calculate a way to steal back the Rod. Though the chances were slim, if Odion wasn't eager to sink to the underworld, perhaps Bakura could get his cooperation. But if they were brothers, there is a strong possibility that Odion would refuse any offer that might harm Marik. Bakura thought about his own brother. Though tempting at times, Bakura wouldn't drag Ryou into his work. Hell, it was far more dangerous for the two of them. Yet here Marik was, dragging his brother into criminal activity. Selfish brat. God he pisses me off.
But there was something else in that last exchange. Apparently Marik's business was time sensitive. Bakura wasn't sure in what way, but if he could figure out why, he could use that pressure to force Marik into action. He could force him to move and create an opening. Bakura was so busy in thought that he almost missed the rest of their conversation.
"I figured you would say that. The only other option I can think of is to try collecting the other six Millennium Items. I don't know if Yami would meet with us still, but if you are insisting on using this case as means to meet with that man, it's our best shot." Odion closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree behind him.
Marik stopped pacing, looking out at the creek. His face was focused with concentration and annoyance. He was gritting his teeth. "So our best bet is to try locating six more ancient artifacts thought to be lost for all time, knowing that we are competing the best and most qualified thieves in the world, for the chance that I might meet with Yami? Not even the guaranteed meeting?" He turned to face his brother, anger radiating from the young man. "That's not much better, Odion! This just straight up sucks!"
Bakura resisted the urge to arch an eyebrow at Marik's behavior. He could see why the kid was angry, but he was acting like a spoiled child. Did he honestly think it would be that easy to meet with the Yami? Odion just shrugged. "It's the only option we really have if we want to stay focused on the Millennium case. That or just wait for another commission from Yami to come out."
"Can't we just find Yami ourselves? Someone as well-known as him can't stay hidden from the world. Couldn't we try scouting him out and confronting him that way?" Marik suggested. Bakura saw this suggestion as a desperate attempt to avoid more work. Lazy brat. Odion chuckled in place of Bakura. "That's a bad idea. It took me over a week just to find one of Yami's correspondents. Even if by some chance we were able to find him, word has it that his security is top-notch and anyone who tried to approach would end up with a bullet in his head." Odion tilted his head, smiling slightly. "I don't think you'd like that."
Marik didn't reply. He just stared at the ground ahead of him, hand still caught in his bangs as he continued to think. Bakura raised an eyebrow as he saw many emotions play out across Marik's face. He was quite expressive – Marik was the kind of guy who wore all of his emotions on his sleeve. Not unlike his older sister.
He saw anger, frustration, annoyance, and to Bakura's surprise, a strange sadness in Marik. It wasn't sadness in the way Bakura knew it – it almost looked like Marik was hurt. That his anger and frustration wasn't directed at the situation, but at himself. As if Marik knew that his plans had fallen apart and it was his fault. Bakura forced himself to look away, ignoring the pang in his chest. I just feel bad that this idiot had to find out that he's an idiot in this way. That's all. Bakura shook his head. He brought it on himself.
Bakura wouldn't admit that in a way, he understood Marik's frustration. He knew what it was like to screw up and know that it's his own fault. He knew that feeling of disgust he held for himself when he fucked up. He knew the anger that made him lash out at everyone around him like it was their fault when Bakura knew that he was the only one to blame. And yet in spite of that familiarity, Bakura didn't recognize the sadness in Marik's eyes. He understood the pressure of trying to do right by his job, to not fail himself or the others around. And he knew that Marik felt that same pressure.
IDIOT. He has the Rod. No pity. The brat is not your problem. Get the rod. Remember the annoying voice. The embarrassment. Your pride. Get. The. Rod. Bakura narrowed his eyes. Any form of understanding and pity was quickly suppressed as Bakura remembered that it was Marik that brought this on himself. It didn't change the fact that he had the Rod and Bakura needed it back. The fact that Yami wouldn't do business with Marik was a godsend. This was the opportunity he needed. He could work with this.
Bakura quickly turned his attention back to the two men standing by the creek. Marik finally moved, taking the hand from his hair to rub his temple like he had a headache. He groaned. "Fine. I guess we'll start looking for the other Millennium items. There's not much else we can do in the situation. Research then?" Odion nodded, walking closer to his brother. "Research. Feeling okay?" The older man gestured to the hand that was massaging Marik's temple.
Marik dropped the hand and shook his head, his golden hair shimmering in the sunlight. "I'm fine. Let's just go. I think I need another smoothie." Odion chuckled softly. "You already had one." Marik pouted as he started to walk towards the path. "I just got bad news! I require another smoothie!"
Bakura moved to massage his temple as he felt a headache coming on. There was the Marik he was familiar with. After an entire conversation of a rather serious and angry Marik, it was strangely irritating and reassuring to see the brat revert back to his usual annoying self. Despite the headache it brought out. He remained against the tree as the two Egyptians walked back towards the campus, unaware of the third figure that lingered behind in the shadows.
Bakura stretched once the two were out of sight, walking towards the creek to look at the water. This had definitely turned out to be an educational little excursion. Definitely better than being locked in that library. Bakura picked up a few flat stones to skip across the stream, thinking over the conversation.
Marik still had the Rod. Bakura supposed he could try stalking the kid. Hell, he could probably get away with it if it were only Marik – he was definitely quite naïve and oblivious. The problem was Marik's shadow. His older brother would definitely notice if they were being followed. No – somehow, stealing from Marik didn't satisfy Bakura. This brat hurt his pride after all. No one gets away with that. Revenge is a dish best served cold.
Bakura narrowed his eyes as he skipped his stones. He wanted Marik to know that the Rod was stolen and that it was Bakura who did it. He would show him was truly the Thief King. The kid was clearly over his head. Perhaps he could use this information to his advantage. Marik was clearly desperate to meet with Yami for whatever reason. Yami won't meet with him. So now Marik will try to assemble the seven Millennium items in the hopes that Yami might meet with him. Bakura chuckled. Idiotic brat. You need to be recommended to Yami if you want to get anywhere. You could assemble all the Items and Yami would still refuse you if he didn't think you're qualified. He only works with professionals like mysel-
Bakura stopped skipping stones. That was it. Marik needed a connection. He wants to meet Yami. To meet Yami, you need to come recommended. You need someone to vouch for you. Someone qualified and skilled in the profession. Someone who is considered an expert in the field. Someone like Bakura.
Bakura smirked, the dark grin finally twisting its way back onto his face. He didn't need to keep Marik around for long – just long enough for Bakura to steal the Rod. Perhaps Marik might be useful. He could help research. In any case, Bakura gained more to benefit by pretending to be partners with Marik. He knew what lies to feed. He was on the case and Marik was not. Marik will be desperate for Bakura to put in the good word to Yami.
Bakura saw the plan coming together. He would pose as a professional looking for a protégé to train in the field. He was searching for a collaborative partner on the Millennium case, an offer too good for Marik to pass up. He could tell him that Marik has promise but needs to prove himself. He would send Marik on a wild goose chase and use that opportunity to get the Rod. Bakura was sure he could earn the boy's trust. He may not be very personable, but he was manipulative. He knew what to say and what strings to pull to get what he wanted. Bakura always got what he wanted.
The only missing piece from the equation was the wild goose chase. He needed to find a way to separate Marik from the Rod. He needed a sure way to keep Marik off his case so that he could find the real prize. But what would be the perfect game for Marik to be caught in. Bakura dropped the rocks from his to the ground, his russet eyes narrowed in concentration. His arm swung down his side, hitting his satchel. Bakura's eyes widened as a delicious idea came to mind.
Perfect. He had a game for Marik to play. He started to figure out the details in his mind, allowing himself to chuckle. Everything was falling into place. Much like Ishizu, Bakura formulated the trap in his mind. Like his sister, Marik will fall right into place, ensnared by Bakura without realizing it. Bakura could read the vulnerable, young man like an open book. He wouldn't need to kill Marik. Death makes any situation dirty and difficult. No. It would more fun to crush and shame the obnoxious brat. To humble him and punish him. He felt a pang in his chest at the thought of those soft lavender eyes filled with hurt, scarred by betrayal.
Bakura started laughing louder as he walked back towards the campus. He was looking forward towards his sweet retribution. Revenge was a dish best served cold after all. Looks like I'll have to pay another visit to that smoothie shop pretty soon.