True Love

The dictionary definition of love:

Love- a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.

All my life I've spent every moment with my head drowning in books. I tried to learn everything about everything. I foolishly believed that everything the books said were true.

Now, back to the definition. I was absolutely certain I knew what love was. It was natural for me to think that I was in love with Anzu.

Hate- to dislike intensely or passionately.

And I was absolutely certain that I hated my Yami, Bakura.

With those two definitions, I built my life upon.

As soon as Bakura and I were separated I told him to go away and never bother me again. He looked so sad and hurt, but he knew it was coming was and he obligated my last request.

Homosexual- sexually attracted to members of your own sex.

My whole life my father constantly told me that homosexuality was bad. I never once questioned that. Boys were meant to be with girls and girls were meant to be with boys. A boy shouldn't kiss another boy and a girl should not be involved with a another girl. That's just the way it was. And I always believed that.

When Anzu and I were financially secured, we bough an apartment and filled it with our stuff, turning an apartment into a home. We both agreed that homosexuality was gross and wrong. So when we got the invitation to Katsuya and Kaiba's wedding, we shredded it and burned it. And we never talked about it again.

It has been four years since I had heard from Bakura, and on the anniversary of our separation, I went to go see him at the address he kept sending me.

The apartment complex looked expensive as I walked up the stairs to his apartment. I idly wondered where he got the money to afford this apartment. I rang the doorbell and waited.

"Damn! If its that fucking Jehovah Witness again, I'ma gonna kill him!" A voice inside raged.

The door opened and it wasn't Bakura who welcomed me. Instead stood Marik, from Battle City.

"Ma-Marik?"

"Ryou." Marik frowned angrily. "What do you want?"

"Is Bakura in?"

Marik's face softened. "Yes. Come in."

Marik led me through he beautiful apartment into a brightly lit room. In the furthest corner there was a huge window that overlooked the city. There was a chair in front of that window and a man wearing a hat sat in the chair looking outside. He was whispering, "I have failed..." over and over.

Marik walked over to him while I stood hesitantly at the door. He knelled down in front of the man and kissed him softly on the lips. I cringed a little in disgust, but thankfully they didn't see.

"Hey, Baku. You've a visitor."Marik whispered softly. He turned the chair around to face me and I gave a small gasp.

It was Bakura. His eyes were so dull and small and sunk into his face almost. Under the eyes were black bags, his whole face was so much thinner that looked so unhealthy. His lips were extremely thin and small. But that's not what caused me to gasp. It was the lack of hair that was upon his head.

"Ryou?" Bakura croaked cautiously.

Tears welled up in my eyes, "What happened?"

Bakura frowned slightly and looked over to Marik in question. Marik sighed softly, "He was diagnosed with a tumor in part of his brain. He's been taking chemo for a year now to kill the tumor, but it hasn't worked. He's going to be having a surgery to have the tumor removed."

The tears in my eyes spilled over. "Why didn't you tell me, Bakura?"

Again, Bakura looked over to Marik for the answer. "You had told him to never bother you again, so he didn't tell you." Marik replied.

"Why isn't he speaking for himself?" I cried.

Bakura looked past me, the look in his eyes dead. Marik sighed again and walked to Bakura and kissed him to bring him back to reality. "Marik?" He asked softly, "Why are you two talking about me?"

"He's just worried about you." Marik reassured.

He nodded, but didn't seem to quite understand. Marik looked up at me, "He doesn't answer because the tumor is killing his brain cells so he doesn't understand."

I began crying harder, "Why haven't you removed it sooner?"

This time Marik looked over at Bakura expecting the answer. "Because I've been waiting for you." Bakura replied.

"What?"

Bakura was about to answer, but Marik put a hand over his mouth, "Sshh, don't waste your energy." Marik looked up at me, "He kept on insisting that you would come and visit him. He said he didn't want the tumor removed until he saw you. He wants you beside him when he undergoes the surgery." Marik held Bakura's hand.

Up until that day, I had found gay men disgusting. But that day, I had seen how much Marik loved and cared for Bakura. It was amazing to see that Marik loved Bakura so much more than I had ever seen Anzu and I love each other.

It was obvious that I had been wrong. Terribly wrong. And I felt so guilty for everything.

Bakura had a content smile on his face which looked weird to see instead of his smirk.

Marik rose and walked to me, "I had already scheduled his surgery for a week from today. I didn't care anymore about his protests," Marik paused and looked over at his partner then averted his attention back to me, "he's dying. And I don't think he's going to live through the surgery." Then I saw something I thought I would never see in my entire life. Tears spilled over Marik's eyes and down his cheeks. He angrily wiped them away.

Death- the act of dying the end of life: the total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism.

It has been a month since that day at Bakura and Marik's apartment. I am sitting on some grass, crying softly. The wind blows the leaves up, and I frown. Today seemed too cheerful. And I hated it.

Today a was funeral of not one but two people.

Bakura's surgery had failed and he died a peaceful death in his sleep. Two days later Marik put a gun to his head and shot his brains out to be with Bakura.

Their love was a beautiful thing, and I never had the chance to see it. I wish so much that I had never thrown Bakura out of my life. I wish that Bakura had never gotten the tumor. And most of all I wish that neither of them had died.

I stood up, wiping my tears. Though no matter what I wish, nothing would change. I would keep living and Marik and Bakura would never breathe again. And for that I hated myself. But I would live with their example of true love.

The day of the funeral was the day I began living my life to the fullest.


A/N: Yeah...not really sure where that came from... Well I hope you liked it nonetheless.