Author's Note:
Today, I want to speak a bit differently than I normally would.
Last night was a very big night for my country (US) and our country has voted our new president. There are many divisive thoughts and opinions about the election. I know I was very devastated to see the results, seeing what I believe to be racism, misogyny, homophobia and xenophobia triumphing. Many people I know are terrified and scared at the moment.
I want to take a moment to tell let you know that you are not alone. Your feelings are legitimate and real. I understand that this is a hard time. Don't be afraid to talk to someone you trust. You can even message me if you'd like. Just don't make this journey alone. Those who supported Trump, take a moment to consider why someone might be concerned or fearful over his election. Those who did not support Trump, when you feel ready, take a moment to listen as to why some felt Trump is a reasonable choice.
In both cases, offer grace and compassion. We are many different things in our country and its hard not to demonize one side and assume the worst in others. I ask that you search to find a common ground, so that we can move forward not as a broken and divided people, but as united people searching to bring a good and prosperous future to everybody, not just in our country, but to everyone we share this planet with. Even though it may feel like fear has won, I truly believe hope is stronger, because it's not just something we hold to as human beings, but rather it is the core of our essence.
Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other. I love you guys. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Rated M.
The first thing Bakura noticed was the pounding. Moments later, Bakura realized it was his head throbbing. God. I feel like hell. Where am I? His mind felt like it was swimming in darkness. He could hear voices around him, but couldn't make sense of what they were saying. Bakura focused, trying to make sense of where he was. Last he recalled Marik was dragging him away from the warehouse district. No, he was in a car. Right? It hurt to think. Slowly, the voices started to come into clarity as Bakura recognized the voices.
"Should he be sleeping this much? Shouldn't we do something?"
"He probably needs the rest. Let him sleep for now."
"But he's been out for over a day. Doesn't that worry you?"
"Marik, he's stable for now. He'll wake soon. We can ask what he wants to do once he does. I'm not certain, but I suspect he might want to avoid going to the hospital for a gunshot wound after he sees the news report."
Bakura shifted, trying to get a sense of how his body was holding up. Despite the pain, Bakura started to wake up. He opened his eyes, blinking them slowly as he groggily awoke. He stared up at the white ceiling for a moment before glancing to the side. He stared around at the TV and bookshelves before Bakura realized he was in an apartment. His hand grazed the couch underneath him as Bakura recognized his surroundings. We must be back in their apartment.
Bakura stretched his arms and legs slightly, trying to get a sense of what was injured and what he could move. He was relieved to find his appendages were fine. Deciding to test his luck, he slowly shifted so he could sit-up slightly. He hissed in pain and shut his eyes as he felt a sudden stab in his side. He opened one eye to glance at his upper torso. He brushed lightly over the side, still feeling tingly and sore. Right, I was shot. Then what…
"Bakura!" The albino looked up as Marik and Odion entered from the other room, the younger one wearing a relieved look on his face. Marik ran over to Bakura's side, helping him to sit up the rest of the way. Odion followed more slowly, softly greeting the albino. Bakura managed a grunt, trying not to show how much pain his wound was still causing him. "Well, I see we are all alive." Bakura stated dryly, leaning back against the couch as he sat completely up.
"No shit, Sherlock. How are you feeling though?" Marik teased, lifting Bakura's shirt. Bakura looked down to see the bandages wrapped around his waist. It looked like the brothers had done a good job patching him up. "Alright, I guess." Bakura shrugged, trying to ignore the warm feeling he got at Marik's concern. Marik continued to watch Bakura as if afraid the man might collapse at any time. Odion grabbed a chair and pulled it next to the couch to speak to the two better. He just stared at Bakura, as if prompting him.
"Well, I suppose let's start with an update. Everyone is okay as far as I can see. So what the hell happened last night after I blacked out?" Marik and Odion exchanged a look before Odion started talking. "When we pulled away, we took you back to our apartment. The bullet was still inside of you, so once we removed that, I stitched your wound. We debated going to the hospital, but by the time we turned on the news. Well…" Odion narrowed his eyes before glancing at his brother. Marik lowered his head. Bakura got a bad feeling.
"What?" Shit. Please tell us we weren't spotted. Odion sighed. "The police were on the site. Apparently someone called about a shooting in the area. Rex and Weevil were found shot dead. No witnesses to the event according to the news. Despite that, we figured you might not want to risk going to the hospital for a gunshot wound as the police search for a potential perpetrator to the event." Bakura sat in silence, taking in everything that Odion said. It was a lot to swallow and left a messy situation at hand. And based on what Bakura recalled from that night, he worried it was about to get more complicated. Shit. Yami'll be pissed about this.
"Marik – don't lie to me. Did you shoot Rex and Weevil?" Bakura fixed his gaze on the nervous youth sitting cross-legged next to him on the couch. Marik's head shot up, a horrified look on his face. "No! I used two bullets that night, and neither to kill. I was just trying to stay alive, not… I didn't think they would…" Marik slumped slightly, guilt eating at him. Bakura watched for a moment before realizing what this was about. Marik felt guilty not because he pulled the gun, but because he felt responsible.
"So the Orichalcos took them down. They must have decided they were a risk not worth having and when they didn't have the Ring…" Bakura rationalized, leaning back as he sighed as he thought about Marik. The youth seemed rather upset by the deaths of Rex and Weevil. He figured Marik felt guilty for their deaths, but on second thought, that didn't make much sense. It was hard to pity the people who tried to kill them for reward. Bakura didn't really feel bad for what happened to those conniving scavengers and suspected that wasn't what unsettled his partner-in-crime. Granted, that didn't mean Marik was comfortable with killing in general, as he shouldn't. Bakura wasn't thrilled with the idea. His hope had been to keep that night as "clean" and "non-messy" as possible.
Perhaps that was the issue? Did Marik feel guilty for the mission going south? Honestly, too many things went wrong that night for Bakura to blame it all on Marik. But he supposed he hadn't really given the youth any reason to suggest otherwise. He usually was tough on the kid and he held relatively high expectations. I suppose when you feel responsible for the death of two men and feel as if everything went to shit because of you, you would feel a bit down. Bakura debated whether to reassure Marik or dismiss this issue. A moment later, he sighed as he placed a hand on Marik's knee in a comforting gesture.
Marik lifted his head, a confused and surprised look on his face as he stared at the hand resting on his knee. "Marik – it's not your fault. Even if you had done nothing that night, the Orichalcos is a dangerous gang. If they found out that Rex and Weevil had seen me that night and let me live, they likely would have been killed. That's just how they operate. There's nothing you could have done." Marik's head jolted up to look at Bakura's hand on his knee. He stared at it while Bakura spoke to him. Bakura glanced over at the youth before Marik finally leaned back, relaxing a bit. He wasn't completely at ease, but he seemed less anxious than he was before.
Bakura returned his focus to Odion, who watched the two of them, his face a frozen mask. Bakura blushed, suddenly very aware of his hand on Odion's little brother's knee. "So things went south is what I'm getting from this. Can we go over something I don't know?" Bakura asked gruffly, though his hand remained on Marik's leg. Odion stared a moment longer before nodding. "I suppose we can do that. I think the most important information you need out of this is that we weren't seen." Bakura nodded in relief. It was a small consolation to know that they wouldn't be on Japan's Most Wanted by tonight's news.
"Also, the Orichalcos appeared after we left, so it's unlikely they knew of our involvement. That is, if Rex and Weevil withheld that information from them." Bakura nodded, thinking over his conversation with them from the other night. "That would make sense. If they told the Orichalcos that I was hunting the Ring and would likely try stealing it, I suspect the Orichalcos wouldn't have even agreed to set up an exchange. As tempted as they are to have my head, it's not worth risking it for a Millennium Item. Even if they withheld the fact that I was there that night, Rex and Weevil would have been killed for failing to provide the Ring. That's just how they operate."
Bakura sighed as he closed his eyes. "Still," Bakura continued, getting the attention of his two co-workers, "At this point, let's assume the worst. It's better to be on our guard. As unlikely as it is, assume the Orichalcos knew I was there that night. They will likely be after me and hunting us. We'll need to keep a low profile for a while until we can be sure they aren't on our tail." Odion murmured his agreement. "That's probably safest." Marik nodded blankly, his eyes staring ahead at the ground.
"Alright. So is there any good news we can take from that night?" Odion furrowed his brows, but nodded. "Yes. Marik got the Ring." Bakura stared at Odion, not daring to look over at his companion sitting next to him. There were a couple of moments of silence. "Show me." Odion nodded as he stood up and walked down the hallway. A couple of seconds later, he brought back a black, cloth bag. He held it out in front of Bakura as he waited for him to take it. Bakura hesitated for a moment before taking the sack.
He pulled out a peculiar golden ring. The ring had a flat golden triangle affixed in the middle. In the center of the triangle was that trademark eye that was on so many of the Millennium Items. At the bottom were five point that dangled off the outer ring. Bakura had no reaction as he just stared at the Ring, the very Item almost responsible for his death the previous night. He put the Ring back in the bag and leaned forward to place it on the duvet in front of the couch. He ignored the sharp pain that jolted through his abdomen. He knew what he had to do next.
He leaned back and turned to look at Marik who seemed lost in thought. With an annoyed sigh, he clipped Marik across the back of his head, snapping the youth out of his stupor. "Ow! Hey, what the hell Bakura?" Bakura glared at Marik, crossing his arms across his chest. To Marik's credit, he didn't flinch at the look Bakura gave him. "You know damn well. Why the hell didn't you follow orders the other night? You nearly got yourself killed!" Marik rubbed the back of his head, returning the glare. "Yeah, well I didn't, did I? If I hadn't stepped in, you would have gotten hurt. Or rather, more hurt than you already are."
"I had everything under control. If you had followed orders-"
"Under control, my ass. You were nearly killed Bakura and I saved your life."
"MARIK! This isn't about my life, it's yours. Don't play the hero – it never ends well for them!" Bakura finally snapped, his anger getting the better of him. He knew he shouldn't care. It was stupid. He knew that in the end, it didn't matter what Marik did. If he wanted to be stupid and risk his life, then that's his choice. In the end, it worked out, didn't it? Bakura got out of the situation alive and they had the Ring. He should leave the issue. He got what he wanted. Who cared what Marik did? It all worked out.
But, that night when he heard the gunshots go off, all he could think about was Marik. All he could do was pray to any god that would listen, pleading that Marik was okay. He wasn't sure how or why that happened. It was irrational and completely idiotic that he should worry about the brat. But in that moment of panic and chaos, all Bakura could think about is making sure Marik was alive. It wasn't about the Ring or his own life. In that moment, Marik mattered more than anything else.
And that scared Bakura.
He wasn't sure when that shift happened. He was aware that he started enjoying Marik's company sometime in the past few weeks between researching and smoothies and games. But he always held the kid at a distance. It never was a good idea to grow close to people in his field. The closest thing he had to a friend was Mai, and even then, Bakura considered her an acquaintance. He figured Marik would do well as a work partner. And he had – that was supposed to be the end. There was no need for anything to progress any further. And yet here he was, worried and concerned for Marik's well-being. He had legitimately been scared for Marik that night, terrified by the thought of losing him.
So Bakura handled this fear as he would any other unwanted feeling – annoyance and anger. He didn't want to let Marik know how much of an affect the youth had on him. He didn't want to let him know how terrified and desperate he had felt when he thought he had lost Marik. He didn't want to let him know how much he cared about Marik.
The two men continued to glare at each other, unapologetic in their actions. Bakura knew that if given the choice, Marik would have chosen to do the same. And that pissed him off. It was only when Odion coughed that the two realized they weren't alone. "When you two are done, I think we have still a bit more to discuss." Marik blushed at his brother's reprimand. Bakura just snorted and looked away. He didn't care if he was being juvenile – he wasn't going to acknowledge the scolding.
"Whatever. So long as Marik understands that if he can't follow orders, then I don't need his help on missions." Marik turned to glare at Bakura, almost as if challenging what he stated. Bakura just glanced to him at the side. For both practical and impractical reasons he gave Marik this ultimatum. Practical because he couldn't work with someone so reckless and count on them to get the job done. If Marik does something irresponsible without thinking next time, he could really cost Bakura his life. Impractical because Bakura didn't want Marik to get hurt. He wanted him to be safe. And he couldn't protect Marik if he doesn't listen during a mission. The silence grew between the two.
"… Fine. I'll just let you die next time." Marik muttered angrily, slumping down into the couch. Bakura relaxed slightly with relief despite knowing that Marik was pissed. He didn't care. It was about keeping him safe and out of harms way. Marik could be angry all he wanted. Bakura always got what he wanted. And he wanted Marik to keep out of danger, damn it. "Good. Now, what's the state of our equipment?" Odion reached for a backpack that Bakura hadn't seen sitting next to his chair. He unzipped it as he started pulling out equipment.
"This is all we've got from that night. I know that Marik's and my equipment are completely accounted for. You'll have to take a look to see if there's anything that belongs to you that's missing." Bakura leaned forward, stifling a groan as he picked through the various items. Marik continued to sulk against the couch and the albino quietly sorted through the gear. He first went through Odion's gear, since he suspected that would be the easiest. He grabbed both guns and unloaded them deftly, wanting to avoid an unwanted accident.
Once he accounted for Odion's gear, he turned to Marik's. He looked at the ear piece and microphone, which were damaged beyond repair. No wonder Marik didn't catch a word I said. How the fuck did he manage to break it? Bakura supposed he hadn't exactly provided the material the most protective casing he could find – he just needed it to do the job for that night. He didn't think of making the tools more durable. Making a mental note for the next needed to needed to work on a walkie-talkie system, Bakura unloaded Marik's gun. Sure enough, there were only two bullets missing just as Marik had said.
When Bakura turned to his own gear, he saw his own black jacket and pants folded up along with the equipment. Right, I suppose they would have needed to get me out of my own bloodstained clothes. Bakura spent more time to make sure of all his equipment was there. After a few minutes of looking, he checked the sleeve of his jacket, his eyes furrowing. "My knife." There was a moment of silence before Marik broke the silence. "What?" Bakura didn't look at Marik but continued to check his gear. "My favorite knife. It's missing."
Odion's eyes narrowed as Bakura heard Marik snort. "Only you would have a favorite knife, you psychopath." Marik muttered as he rolled his eyes. Bakura flicked his eyes over at the youth, briefly giving him a nasty look before returning his attention to the items on the table. "You sure it's not there and you're sure you had it with you that night?" Odion asked diplomatically, glancing at his brother. Bakura nodded as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Definitely. I had held Weevil at knifepoint at one point. I normally keep it in an inside pocket of my right arm sleeve for easy access." Bakura gestured to the jacket sleeve, showing the pocket with no knife.
Odion narrowed his eyes. "If it's not here, then it has to be either in the car or at the warehouse district." Bakura leaned back, noting that everything else he had was accounted for. "Yeah, and given that my knife had both my fingerprint and Weevil's blood on it, we need to get it back fast." Odion nodded, glancing down on at his watch. "Well, if that's the case, then I'll go see if I can find it before someone else does. Before I do, is there anything else you want to cover?"
Bakura leaned back and turned his attention to the pain in his side. "Yeah. How bad is it?" To Bakura's surprise, Odion smirked for a moment before the smile disappeared. "You'll live. It's nothing fatal. The bullet missed your vital organs. You did lose a lot of blood, though. Do you want to go to the hospital?" Bakura shook his head. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself, especially since his knife was missing. Details like that could end up getting arrested and prosecuted. Odion said he would live. That was enough for Bakura.
"I suppose that's all. Despite how things got fucked up, we ended up getting the Ring, so I suppose it was a success." Bakura closed his eyes, his mind still not at ease. Sure, things worked out this time, but barely. Hell, they still weren't in the clear. He knows he should be glad that they got the Ring, but honestly, he felt too exhausted and worried to bask in their victory. I need to get some more rest. Bakura slowly pushed himself to a standing position, feeling woozy in the process. "Odion, if you can get back the knife, it'll be one less thing for us to worry about. Since we don't have anything else to discuss, I'd say this meeting is adjourned."
Bakura slowly walked toward the closet, getting used to the pain in his side. "And where do you think you're going?" Bakura heard Marik ask from his position on the couch. Bakura just rolled his eyes. "Home. Where else?" Marik stood up and followed Bakura. "Like hell you are. You're dehydrated, you've lost way too much blood – hell, you passed out for an entire day. You think you're going to try walking home now?"
Bakura narrowed his eyes as he glanced towards the windows, surprised to see that it was dark out. I was out for an entire day? Well, shit. "It doesn't matter. I'm all right now. I can back on my own, thanks." Ignoring the throbbing pain in his side, Bakura walked over to the closet to grab a coat as he remembered his jacket was folded on the table, coated in his blood. Damn, this sucks. Bakura heard Marik sigh in annoyance. "You're such a pain in the ass, you know that right?"
Bakura snapped his head around, regretting the motion as he felt his head spinning. "Well I'm not going to leach off of you anymore than I have to. I've already stuck around too long. I can handle myself." Marik didn't seem remotely impressed as Bakura bluffed his way to freedom. "Somehow I don't buy that, Fluffy. For crying out loud, stop pushing yourself. You're staying the night. You can have my bed and I'll sleep on the couch out here." Bakura glared but he already knew his resistance was weakening. He was really tired and the idea of trying to walk across town to go home did not seem very appealing.
Bakura smirked instead, another idea crossing his mind. "I had no idea you were so keen to get me in your bed, Marik." Bakura laughed at the blush that grew across Marik's face, his cheeks burning red. "On second thought, you can walk home, asshole. Let me grab my coat. I'll come with you to make sure you don't black out on the way." The albino finally calmed down laughing, getting a hold of himself. "No, no. I'll stay. Lord forbid I pass out now." Marik huffed, looking rather annoyed at the indecisive thief.
Bakura gave a cocky grin, as if daring Marik to continue the argument. Finally, Marik rolled his eyes as he passed Bakura. "Why do I bother some days?" He muttered under his breath as he walked to his bedroom. Bakura chuckled before glancing over at Odion, who watched the whole exchange with a strange look on his face. Embarrassed, Bakura coughed as he leaned against the wall, unsure what to do.
"I'll go to check out the warehouse district. I'll let you know if I find anything." Bakura looked up to see Odion walk to the closet and grab his coat, his face a stone mask. I swear I'll never know what that man thinks. It was unsettling how calm and composed he always was. Nothing ever seemed to rattle him. Bakura nodded as he watched Odion leave. He pushed himself off the wall and wandered down the hall towards Marik's room. He let himself into the room.
"Ever hear of knocking? Your rudeness has no limits." Marik remarked dryly, as he picked up his scattered art tools spread across the floor. Bakura knew despite his words, Marik was not as angry with him and just annoyed instead. Bakura stood there and watched for a moment before he walked to Marik's bed and sat down. He looked around and spotted Marik's sketchbook on the bedside table next to him. He glanced back at his companion. Marik was still preoccupied with cleaning so Bakura snatched the notepad before his artistic friend could notice, interested to see more of what Marik created. When did I develop a curious streak?
Bakura flipped open the book, expecting to see more landscapes like he had on the canvases. To his surprise, he saw portraits and profiles of various people. Bakura flipped a few pages, trying to see if recognized any of them. He realized these must be people that Marik had seen in everyday life. From a girl doing homework in the library to a man taking a smoke outside of class to a happy couple walking around campus. It was a collection of simple pencil sketches of everyday life.
Bakura studied the various individuals, a part of him curious of how Marik viewed the world and those around him. He flipped through each drawing, intrigued in this world of moments. He was almost two-thirds through the notebook when the tone shifted and suddenly, Bakura looked at the profile of Odion. He blinked before he realized Marik had drawn a headshot of his elder brother from various angles. Bakura was surprised to notice that lighting and shading drew attention to Odion's tattoo, which had been carefully drawn and transcribed. For the first time, Bakura wondered if those tattoos held a special meaning.
Bakura flipped the page and blinked as he stared the profile of a beautiful Egyptian woman. He initially didn't recognize her but then a moment later, he realized it was Ishizu. Or sort of. He wasn't sure now that he continued to stare at it. The sketch looked extraordinarily like the young woman, but there were some differences. Perhaps Marik messed up while drawing her? Those differences didn't seem accidental though.
"Like what you see?" Bakura looked up to see Marik watching him with a rather mischievous look. Bakura raised an eyebrow, suddenly suspicious, resisting the urge to actually check out Marik. He turned his attention back to the sketches. "They're interesting. Is this your sister?" Bakura asked, gesturing to the portrait of the woman. Marik furrowed his brow for a moment before sitting down next to Bakura. "Uh, no… It's my mother." With that, Bakura suddenly understood the strong resemblance had to Ishizu. "She's very beautiful."
Marik nodded his head, a small smile on his face. "Yeah, she was." Bakura immediately noticed the use of the past tense, stomach turning slightly. They sat in silence for a moment. "What was she like?" Bakura wasn't particularly good at conversation, especially ones with a rather heavy topic. But he didn't want to leave it there. He wanted to know and understand more. Marik just shrugged, staring at the floor. "Don't know. She died in labor when I was born."
Bakura didn't respond, but clenched the sketchbook a little bit tighter in his fingers. "I'm sorry." He felt like an idiot. What else could he say? What do people normally say? Marik just leaned back, his head tilting to stare at the ceiling. "It's alright. Odion and Ishizu would tell me about her and what she was like. Odion always said that sister looked just like her, so that's all I have to go off of. Dad-" Marik paused for a moment to shift in his spot. "He never kept pictures." Bakura nodded, finally glancing to look over at Marik.
Even at a profile, Bakura could see a mix of emotions swimming in Marik's eyes. He seemed somber, yes, but also pensive. He looked like he was lost in an old memory. He wasn't relaxed, but he wasn't as high energy as he usually was. He seemed… mature. Bakura took a few moments more to stare at Marik before turning his attention back to the sketches. "Well… it looks nice. The drawing, I mean." Bakura looked away, hoping that he was imagining his face getting warm. "Thanks. It makes me glad that you like my art."
Bakura snorted, trying to not act as embarrassed as he felt. "Not sure why you care so much." He mumbled, flipping through the pages as he ducked his head down. He heard Marik chuckle. "Hey. I like making art. I just hope it doesn't suck. So you saying it doesn't is a pretty big compliment." Bakura rolled his eyes. "Glad you have high expectations then. Let's look to me as the grand judge of good art." Marik rolled his eyes as he leaned over to see what sketch Bakura was looking at.
"I'm not saying my art is good because you judge it to be good. It's good because you like it." Bakura raised his head, confused by the logic. "That doesn't make sense. Your art is good because it's liked? I don't think that's how it works." Marik gave an exasperated sigh and stared at Bakura, as if he couldn't understand why Bakura didn't get it. Bakura just shrugged, waiting for Marik to explain himself.
"I'm not speaking objectively. Sure, we have art critics who tell us when good art is created and when something is technically well crafted. But I want my art to be enjoyed. That's what it's supposed to do, regardless of the observer's background or understanding. Art's something we can all share and appreciate. It's my way of sharing how I view the world and everything around me. So if you find some enjoyment in it, then I guess I'm doing something right. For me, that's how I know I'm making good art." Marik looked straight ahead, his eyes filled with delight as he animatedly described his passion.
Bakura suddenly remembered the first time he met Marik, well, the first time he met him after the robbery. In the smoothie shop, Marik talked to his brother about his art classes. Marik had the same look now as he did then. He seemed elated and completely in his element. Bakura vaguely understood that feeling – it was the same feeling he got when he was on a mission to steal something. Except where Bakura's element was in doing some illegal, Marik's was much more innocent and simple. He wanted to make art for no other reason than to make him and others happy. And talking about art made him seem radiant.
Bakura snapped out of it, shaking his head. God forbid Marik seem him staring at him like some star-stuck lover. "Whatever makes you happy, then. So long as you don't start making crap, I say keep with it." Bakura closed the notebook, handing it over to Marik. Marik snorted, his daydream over. "Right. I'll put it at the top of my to-do list. Number one- don't make shitty art. Per request by a Mr. Bakura." The albino rolled his eyes before giving Marik a friendly push. Marik chuckled and nudged him back, Bakura going with the motion to fall back onto the bed.
"Alright. You need to get sleep now." Marik decided, ordering Bakura to bed. The albino just rolled his eyes, but obliged, leaning back into the bed as he laid on the bed. He watched Marik as he put the sketchpad away in the bureau next to the bed. Bakura glanced down to realize he was already in sweatpants and a t-shirt, specifically Marik's. Well I suppose it's better than wallowing in my own blood. Bakura lifted the end of the t-shirt to look at his bandages, as if trying to gauge the severity of his hidden wound.
"You getting into bed?" The words broke Bakura's train of thought, as he tugged his shirt back down. Bakura glanced to see Marik pulling out clothes that looked pajamas. Bakura had a moment where he wondered if Marik was going to change with him in the room and he felt himself start to blush at the thought. Why the fuck does this always happen to me? He sighed as he put an arm over his eyes, blocking out the ceiling above. Laying in Marik's bed only made him aware of his growing, conflicting feelings towards his companion. No, not companion? Friend? Work associate? Bakura didn't know anymore what the hell this was.
"Hey, Bakura. You feeling okay?" Bakura dropped his arm down to see Marik sitting next to him with a concerned look. For a moment, Bakura was lost for words. "I'm fine. Just tired." Bakura decided to settle with ambiguity. That certainly was the most honest answer he could provide at the moment. He closed his eyes, figuring Marik would leave him. He flicked his eyes open when he felt a hand brush through his bangs. He stared at Marik as the young man pushed his bangs out of Bakura's face.
The two just stared at each other, shock on both of their faces. Marik seemed to realize what he had done and snatched his hand away. They stayed there in silence, just watching before Marik stood up abruptly. Bakura laid there, somewhat bewildered and confused. "Uh… good night. If you need anything, I'll be in the living room, so just holler." Marik blurted out quickly, a blush growing on his face as he walked to the door. Bakura couldn't find words, so he grunted a quick "night" before Marik left the room. A moment later, he was alone in the bedroom.
… What the hell was that? Bakura almost had to laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. What the hell was wrong with both of them? This was just absurd. When did he, the Thief King, started to care about others? When did he start to blush and stutter and act like an idiot around another guy? When did he start to actually like Marik Ishtar, the most annoying human being on the planet?
And more than that, when did Marik start to like him? He was an unlikeable asshole and proud of it. Yet for some reason, Marik still worried for him, joked with him, valued his opinion, and hung around him. As if Marik enjoyed his company. Why? Why hang out and play games with him? Why did Marik feel the need to worry about his work acquaintance? And why did Marik feel the need to brush his hand through Bakura's hair like that?
And why did Bakura like it?
Bakura groaned as he leaned back, closing his eyes. Don't get too involved, you said. Just use him to get the other Items, you said. It'll be easy to manipulate him, you said. Why do I bother making plans if they never work? Yes, Bakura couldn't ignore his changing and tumultuous feelings. And he hated it. Why start caring because of some young up-start? Some gorgeous, happy, little up-start.
No. Stop that. Bakura focused on sleep, forcing himself to clear his mind. He needed to get better physically first. Then he could deal with those damn pesky emotions. Slowly, his mind was washed clear. Eventually, Bakura started to drift to sleep, burying his face into the pillow. Bakura's last thought was of Marik's comforting scent wafting up from his pillow before he finally gave in to darkness.