Author's Note: Sorry this is coming pretty late today. Despite other difficult chapters I have had to write, this one I found to be particularly tricky. But given the plot, this needed to happen. I'm happy with the results. Hope you guys are too.
Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Rated M. No lemons. Pervs.
And again – thank you so much for reading. I appreciate it. If you like what you read, please fav or follow or give me any feedback. I'm open to any and all criticism/praise.
Bon appetite!
The next morning, Bakura woke up feeling physically better, but his mind was no closer to figuring out the mess that was him and Marik. But that could be put on the back burner. As he got up, he was pleased to see that he no longer felt dizzy. His side still hurt, but not nearly as much as it did the previous day. He wasn't sure if Odion and Marik were up (there was no clock in the bedroom so Bakura had difficulty determining the time of day). He decided to finally see the damage. He took on his shirt and started to remove his bandages carefully.
Bakura wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but he guessed that he expected the wound would be… bigger. He saw the small red hole where the bullet punctured through his skin, just above hip bone. He noticed the tiny tears in the flesh nearby that reminded him of cracked glass. He couldn't figure on the thin straight line that intersected the bullet hole, the oddity in this injury. He realized that it was created from Odion removing the bullet from his side. He gave an involuntary shudder, glad that he was unconscious for that part. He just prodded at the slowly healing wound, almost fascinated by it.
"Fluffy? You awake?" He heard a soft voice as the door cracked open. Bakura looked up as he saw Marik stick his head. Bakura realized Marik must have recently gotten up. His hair was sticking up in places and he was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. The sight of the young Egyptian brought a smile to Bakura's face. He mumbled a greeting before he realized Marik wasn't listening. In fact, Marik didn't even look Bakura in the eye, but instead stared at his shirtless torso. It took the albino a moment before a smirk grew on his face. He stretched exaggeratedly, making a show of his body.
"Like what you see?" Bakura teased Marik back with the same words he said to him the previous night. If Marik's face had been red in embarrassment before, it was nothing compared to the tomato color he took now. "Put your bandages and shirt back on, you prick. Or no breakfast for you." Marik made to leave, but in his own confusion and embarrassment, he accidentally knocked his head into the doorframe before slipping out. Bakura laughed out, amused by Marik's awkwardness.
There. Now the universe is back in order. Bakura decided it wasn't worth switching into different clothes. Chances were, Marik's clothes would be too small. Correction – they would be intentionally a size too small and therefore, Bakura wouldn't wear them. He wrapped his bandages back on before throwing on the t-shirt he slept in last night. He walked out of the room, feeling stronger and less shaky than he did yesterday. He saw Marik and Odion both working on breakfast in the kitchen. Unsure what to do, he leaned against the counter watching them.
"Feeling better?" Odion asked politely as he flipped a pancake. Bakura nodded. "Considerably so. Starting to feel like my old self." Marik looked back at Bakura with a look of mock horror. "Oh god, Bakura's feeling like his old self? Now he'll start acting like an asshole and telling us to piss off." Bakura flipped Marik the bird, trying to ignore the soft chuckle Odion gave. Bakura had to resist the urge to actually tell Marik to piss off. He felt like that would be proving Marik's point.
"Well, if you're feeling like your old self, pick up a knife and start cutting up some fruit." Odion gestured to the fruit on the counter next to him. Bakura raised an eyebrow, feeling weird about the request. Nonetheless, he grabbed the knife and the cutting board. "See? Told you he wouldn't turn down the opportunity to have a knife in hand." Marik mumbled to Odion as Bakura snapped his head around to glare at the two. Being the butt of their joke was getting old fast.
He looked at the bowl of fruit next to the blender, putting two and two together. He rolled his eyes. "Smoothies again?" Marik nodded triumphantly while Odion just shrugged good-naturedly. Bakura chuckled. "Don't blame me when you're pre-diabetic at the age of 30." Marik just laughed. "Come on, Bakura. No one gets diabetes from drinking too many smoothies. You have to like, eat pure sugar or frosting from a jar everyday."
Bakura's eye twitched. "Right. Don't be getting any funny ideas, now." He finished cutting up the fruit and put it in a bowl. It felt… strange to be making breakfast with Marik and his brother. It was completely different. It felt like something he and Ryou would do. And as odd as it was, Bakura didn't mind. Never saw myself making smoothies for breakfast with the Ishtar brothers. Strange how much this place is starting to feel like home. The thought made him pause, Bakura worrying for a moment. He was getting too involved, too quickly. One little heist and suddenly he was adopted into the family.
"Eggs are ready!" Bakura looked up to see Marik bringing a plate of eggs and pancakes. He shook his head of his thoughts and sat down at the table, bringing the bowl of fruit with him. Marik gave a disgruntled look at the non-smoothie fruit that was placed on the table. "You'll survive. Besides, it's good for you." Bakura dismissed, grabbing a pear slice and taking a bite to make a point. Bakura caught the small, amused smile on Odion's face before he turned his attention back to breakfast. As much as he wanted to enjoy this moment, reality called Bakura back. After breakfast, he would need to get cleaned up and face probably the scariest part of their mission yet.
He had to go see Ryou.
Bakura walked back to his apartment, taking his time. He found himself getting rather tired from the journey back, his body still recovering. Marik insisted on joining Bakura, worried that the trip would be too much on his own. Bakura decided to compromise and allow Marik to walk him as far as the university. Marik had class to attend still. He had enjoyed the brief walk together and felt strange disappointed when Marik hopped off at the university.
This has got to be the strangest two days of my life. The juxtaposition between going after a Millennium Item to enjoying a nice breakfast with Marik and his brother was not what Bakura had anticipated. From dangerous crime life to the warm, fuzzy feeling of home, Bakura wasn't sure what to make of his life. It certainly wasn't what he had expected it to be, but at the same time, it wasn't necessarily all bad. In the end, things were working out well. Well, aside from the bullet wound. In the end, it was worth it. He got the Ring. Only one Item left.
With that thought, Bakura found his second wind as he turned the corner and spotted his apartment complex. Things were starting to really look up. Not that Bakura doubted his skill before, but never had collecting all the Items felt more tangible and real. He was so close. All that remained with the Puzzle. And with Marik's help, they may very well find it. Bakura knew they could do it. The thought of succeeding and getting his reward after all his hard work gave him the motivation he needed.
Bakura took the elevator up to his floor. He had learned his lesson before, and he wasn't about to try pushing his healing body. It was only as he dug out his keys that he wondered what Ryou would think. Part of him knew he would probably be pissed. But Ryou was probably working today. It was a weekday so he was most likely at the shop. He would chew him out tonight, knowing his luck. A small price to pay for the grand victory in the end.
Bakura unlocked the door and let himself in. He had just kicked off his shoes, when he heard a sound in back. He looked up, confused. "Ryou?" He called out, glancing around the corner. He heard a loud thud and suddenly one of the bedroom doors was flung open. His twin ran out, his eyes wide. Bakura stared in shocked, surprised at how unkempt Ryou looked. It was the middle of the day, but he looked like he just woke up. His hair was a dirty, tangled mess and the bags under his eyes revealed his lack of sleep.
The two just stared at each other for a moment. Ryou just watched him, as if expecting something. Bakura had no idea what though. He had no clue what to do. Honestly, he was expecting yelling, an interrogation sessions, accusations – anything at this point. But Ryou was just staring at him. Bakura gathered his thoughts first. "You look like hell. What's wrong with you?" Ryou didn't reply, but continued to stare, his face a careful mask. Bakura dumped his bag on the floor and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Well, shit. Now what? Ryou was freaking him out. "Um… have you eaten lunch yet? I suppose it's my turn for a meal around here." Bakura mumbled out, scratching the back of his head. He just wished Ryou would do his usual routine of either yelling at him or giving him the silent treatment. This staring-him-silently-down-thing was more unnerving. When Ryou didn't reply, Bakura sighed and walked into the kitchen. He was half-surprised when he saw that Ryou followed.
He opened up the fridge and chuckled. "Looks like we'll need to grab groceries soon." He checked the other shelves before deciding to make sandwiches for the two of them. Bakura noticed Ryou just watching him, leaning against the counter as he let Bakura work around the kitchen. What the hell does he want from me? What does he usually want from me at this point? As Bakura pulled out some veggies, he started speaking.
"So things got hairy while I was out the other night." Bakura stated lightly, trying not to worry his brother. It wouldn't hurt to tell him where he had been. "I was out on the case and things didn't go as planned. But in the end, it all worked out. And before you ask – yes I was at the warehouse district two nights ago, but I wasn't involved in the accident that happened there." Bakura blurted out, preferring to lie than actually get his brother worried about him. He glanced over and saw Ryou staring at floor, his face an emotionless mask.
What's he thinking? Bakura figured he would continue. "When we got back, I was feeling a bit under the weather. So I stayed the past two nights at Marik's." Bakura moved away from the cutting board and moved next to Ryou, reaching to open the cabinet. Ryou stepped out of the way as Bakura grabbed two plates. He handed one to Ryou, who was staring at Bakura's waist. Bakura glanced down, realizing that when he raised his arms to grab the plates that his shirt slid up, revealing the bandages.
Bakura growled, biting back the stream of swears that wanted to come out. Well, shit. So much for not worrying Ryou. Ryou just stared, his hands clenching the plate in his hands. The two brothers stood there staring at each other in tense silence. Bakura sighed as he took a step back, turning back to the cut veggies and cold meat he had pulled out. He just wished Ryou would say something so he would know what kind of reaction to expect.
Bakura grabbed two slices of bread and plopped them on his plate. "It's nothing serious. I was clumsy and made a mistake. Odion and Marik took care of it and got the bullet out, so I'm fine. Nothing major." Bakura pulled out a slice of ham when he heard the loud crack of something breaking. He flipped his head around. Ryou was leaning over the counter with his plate, but the plate had slipped and shattered. His left hand was quickly turning red from the cuts.
"Shit." Bakura swore as he ran to his brother's side, looking over his twin's bloodied hand. "You cut yourself up pretty bad there. Come on, let's wash that out and get you bandaged up." Bakura moved his hand to guide Ryou by his shoulder, but was shocked when Ryou jerked him off. He looked up to see Ryou's face, an almost manic look on his face. "Nothing major? You have the balls to lie to me and tell me that you weren't there, that nothing happened, and yet you brush off the fact that you were shot? That's nothing?"
Ryou whispered the words, Bakura almost having to strain to listen. Bakura swallowed as he watched his brother carefully. He reached for his twin's injured hand. "Look Ryou, we need to get your hand taken care of. Then we can talk-" Ryou didn't let him finish, jerking his bleeding hand away from Bakura. "I don't fucking care! You were gone for two whole days without so much as a word as to where you went and you come back with a gunshot wound and you want me to not fucking worry? What the hell is wrong with you?"
Ryou's voice finally moved from its soft whisper and now he was yelling angrily, but not at Bakura. He started pacing the kitchen, his uninjured hand running through his un-brushed hair. Ryou started to breathe heavily, almost as if fighting off a panic attack. Bakura could look on in complete confusion and shock. Ryou rarely ever swore like this. He heard Ryou say the f-word only once before. This was bad. Perhaps he could defuse the situation before it got out of hand. "Look, Ryou. I'm fine. I swear. I just didn't want you to worry."
Bakura felt his worry increase when Ryou started to laugh. Had his twin gone completely insane? "Seriously? 'You don't want me to worry?' Bakura – that's all I can do! That's all you let me do! Every fucking time, you pull this kind of shit and expect me to not worry! I'm just expected to deal with all of… this! I just can't! I can't do this anymore." Ryou brought both hands to clench at his hair, unaware of the blood now staining his hair. His anger was diminishing as Ryou leaned against the counter, bending over slightly. His posture started to crumple as he repeated the words softly. "I can't do this."
Bakura stared, unsure how to fix the situation anymore. He wanted to give his brother a pat on the shoulder and let him know that all would be okay. He wanted to fix his hand and make him smile. To not worry anymore. But Bakura realized that would be a temporary solution to a much bigger problem. His brother was clearly distressed. Bakura narrowed his eyes slightly and leaned against the counter, watching his brother across from him. "Look, Ryou. I know it's been stressful. On both of us. It feels like a lot of heartache over nothing. But the case is almost done. I just have one more Item and I get the reward. After that, we-"
"We what, Bakura? Do it all over again? What's it going to take before you finally decide you've stolen enough? How much money do you want before you're done? You don't know when to quit. You're going to keep doing this until you can't. You're going to do this until one day, you're caught, and then, I'll-" Ryou stopped talking and looked away, his face angry and scared. Bakura studied his brother, watching as Ryou finally found the courage to look back, glaring determinately at his twin.
Bakura was aware that his line of work worried his brother – he had known this for awhile. But it had been rather miniscule up until this point. Nothing major really happened. Yet here his twin was, having an emotional breakdown in from of him. What drove him to this point? It seemed like a bit of an overreaction in Bakura's opinion. "Ryou, what's this all about? What's going on? You've never been this upset before. Up until now, things have been going well for us." As if to confirm his brother had gone completely mental, Ryou started to laugh.
"Things have been going well for you. You've always enjoyed doing this kind of shit. You don't mind the limitations and difficulties that come with the job. You can handle the constant risk and danger to your life and those closest to you. Have you ever just once asked what I want, asshole? Have you ever considered I didn't want to live a life where I can't go to certain parts of town because I might get mistaken for my criminal twin brother? Where I can't go out at night out of fear of being targeted? Where I worry myself sick, not knowing if tonight will be the last night I ever see you? Do you think I enjoy not being to go out and just live my fucking life? I can't do anything without being afraid because of what you want!"
Bakura glared at the ground, listening to Ryou say his piece. He remembered over a week ago when he first got a sense of how much Ryou was suffering. But he didn't realize that Ryou was making himself physically ill over this. The whole point of Bakura doing all this, choosing to be a master thief, was to make their lives easier. And although Bakura had felt that it had been worth it all this time, Ryou certainly didn't feel this way. Bakura had figured he was the only one who had to suffer to make this work – he was the one who had to take all the risks. He was the one who actually went out and did the dangerous work so that Ryou would be alright.
But with this, it felt like everything that Bakura had been working for was starting to crumble. What was the point of doing all this dangerous and risky work, going through the effort time and time again, if Ryou was miserable? That he was always angry or worried or upset? Bakura had just assumed it was Ryou getting annoyed at him for his work. Worrying about him, but it would only happen after a mission, when Bakura came back from some daredevil stunt he pulled. But he was off. Apparently, Ryou suffered more than he had been letting on. He knew that it was difficult on the two of them, but he had no idea how difficult.
"Okay." Bakura nodded, not really sure where he was going with this. "I see. You're right. This hasn't been easy. On both of us. This isn't the most ideal situation, but we've made it work. I believe it hasn't all been a waste. I've been too many damn hours on this for it to be a waste. I've done all of this for us, and although it hasn't been great all the time, it's gotten us by. For our life, it's been necessary." Bakura used to think he was terrible at diplomacy, but after meeting Marik, it became a required skill in dealing with his confounding companion. Ryou laughed, but this time, instead of sounding manic, he sounded condescending.
"Necessary. That's a great word to justify crime. It's necessary." Bakura glared at Ryou. Bakura bristled as Ryou's derision. It was one thing to be angry at him. It was another to talk down to him. "I'm serious, Ryou. I've done what I had to for us. You think I would just do this because I want to?" Ryou rolled his eyes. "Actually yes. That's exactly why you do it. Can you honestly tell me that the reward money is the sole motivation for why you chose this life of crime? Or is it because of your title as 'Thief King" that keeps you going?" Ryou spat those last words out like they were venom.
"Ryou, I didn't do this for glory, and you fucking know that. I was doing it to keep us together after mom and dad died, damn it. And I'm not going to apologize for that." Bakura couldn't stop from raising his voice, his desperation slipping through. He crossed his arms, taking a more defiant stance. Ryou could take issue with what Bakura does, but that didn't mean Bakura would sit back and take being insulted and falsely accused. He wasn't going to start regretting his choice to protect his little brother.
"I know. You did what you had to. But that was nine years ago. What's your excuse now? Why do you keep doing this, Bakura? It's not like child services is going to be knocking on our door nowadays." Ryou pushed off against the counter, challenging his twin. His face switched back to anger, almost as if aggressive. Bakura finally snapped. "Because we have to, damn it! What other choice do we have? We need to keep doing this. Bills don't pay themselves, Ryou!" He understood that Ryou was concerned, but didn't he get it? How else were they going to pay for their livelihood? How were they going to get by?
To Bakura's surprise, Ryou walked out of the kitchen. Confused, Bakura followed, unsure of where this would be going. He watched as Ryou walked back to his bedroom and walked over to his desk. He sorted through the papers in one of the drawers, searching for something. What is he doing? A moment later, Ryou pulled out a stack of papers clipped together. Bakura stared at confusion, recognizing them as their tax forms, bills, and other such forms. "What the hell is this, Ryou?"
"These are the bills that don't pay themselves. I've been doing the math. With my salary alone, I can cover the cost of rent, electric, plumbing, transportation, and groceries. I can live on my own without your income." It took a moment before Bakura realized what Ryou was implying. Ryou, you fucking asshole. "What's this? Are you planning on leaving? Like some jilted ex-girlfriend? Ryou, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Bakura flung the packet back at Ryou, his anger growing. He couldn't believe his own brother would even suggest this.
"What other choice do I have, Kura? You haven't given me any other options! I don't want to do this, but you haven't given a better alternative! Stop being so selfish and think of someone besides yourself!" Ryou yelled at Bakura, his hands clenched into fists. His left hand was all but forgotten at this point, his skin now stained red with blood. Bakura glared, frustration and worry fighting for dominance in his mind. It was like staring into a mirror, as he sensed Ryou battle the same thing. They both were angry, fed up with the other. They were pissing each other off. But at the same time, they just wanted the best for the other.
"How the fuck am I selfish, dickhead?" Bakura stepped forward, crossing his arms as he glared down at his twin. Everything he had done was for them. He got shot for god's sake. People don't do that for kicks and giggles. Yes, he realized his decision hasn't made their lives easy. But when had Bakura ever said he was doing this for himself? Ryou started laughing again, but he didn't sound manic or condescending. It was as if there was a hint of disbelief.
"You still don't get it? I don't need you to be a criminal. We're fine. Financially we are okay. So why do you feel the need to keep doing this? You're not doing it for us anymore. You're doing it for yourself and justifying your actions by saying that you're just trying to keep us off the streets. Well, guess what Bakura? Nobody's going to drag us off to foster care anytime soon. We don't need all of this! I don't need to be rich! I need to be able to fucking live my life without fear of being targeted! I need to not fear that you're going to walk out the door one day and you're not going to come back like our parents did."
Ryou looked exhausted by the time he was done screaming at Bakura, looking paler than before. Ryou wrapped his arms around his torso, his body shaking. Bakura glared, but he found his resolve weakening. Ryou's words hit him hard. He had always felt that he had been doing this for them. He wanted the best for Ryou and instead, Ryou felt like his life was hell. In some ways, it was easier in his mind to believe that everything he was doing was to make their lives better. That he had. But perhaps that was before. Perhaps that was no longer the case. Loathe as he was to say, he wondered if he should consider leaving the field.
Bakura hadn't really thought about it seriously. He had always pushed the idea of "retiring" to the future. He would always tell himself "in a few more years." The idea of stopping and escaping his criminal ways always seemed like a distant future that was always tomorrow, never today. Why did he stick with the dangerous road? If he wasn't doing it for them, then maybe Ryou was right in saying that he was doing this for himself. He loved what he did. He loved the risk and the danger. He loved pushing his skills to the next level. Every day he saw was more precious because he had survived to that day. He lived for the thrill of it all. But…
Maybe that needed to change. Maybe he needed to quit while he was still ahead. After this mission, him and Ryou will have more money than they'll know what to do with it. Bakura was still young – he had his whole life ahead of him. He knew it was better to get out early and not throw away his life. Hell, Bakura's other option would be to keep doing what he's doing until he met an early grave.
But what the hell would I do? Bakura considered himself a smart man in his field – he knew the skills and had the knowledge necessary for his job. But outside of his profession, his skills were not suited for the law-abiding job market. He never went to university or a technical school. Technically, Bakura never graduated high school – he had dropped out to pursue a life of crime. Not because he wanted to, but rather he needed to. And now?
Bakura realized that perhaps Ryou was right in saying he needed to keep stealing and taking on illegal jobs. Because Bakura didn't have anything else to fall back on. The criminal life had been his fall back after their parents died. He didn't know what else he could do. He didn't know what someone with his skills and education level could get honest work. And yet, if Bakura didn't figure out something soon, he risked hurting both him and Ryou even more. He couldn't get out, but he couldn't stay. Fuck. I can't win.
Bakura sighed, walking past Ryou to sit down in the chair at Ryou's desk. He was aware of his brother watching him like a hawk. Bakura chose to ignore him, instead raising a hand to rub the side of his head. He ran his fingers up into his hair as he rested his elbow on the desk, staring at the floor. "What do you want from me then? What do you want me to do?" Bakura didn't know what sort of answer Ryou would give him. He didn't know if Ryou had an answer. But at the same time, he needed to know.
Ryou knelt down to pick up the papers that Bakura had previously tossed. He organized them silently, the question still hanging in the air. As Ryou stood up, he sighed. His exhaustion and resignation weighed heavily. "I don't know, Bakura. I don't know what the answer is. I don't know what we should do. But something needs to change. Because I can't keep doing this. And if you're not going to make a change, then I will." Ryou kept his eyes averted, his energy spent. He walked out of the room, not waiting for Bakura's response.
Bakura stared at the floor, hearing the door close as Ryou left. Bakura gritted his teeth, but didn't move from his spot. Their fight was over. Everything was out in the open and yet nothing was resolved. And for once, Bakura didn't have a snarky comeback to his brother, no empty reassurance, no sarcastic remark to lighten the mood. Bakura closed his eyes, exhaling heavily. The discomfort from his wound felt like nothing compared to the discomfort he felt at the growing rift between him and his twin. He was so close to finishing out this case. All that remained was the Puzzle and he would succeed.
It'll all mean nothing if I lose Ryou because of this.