MM: Yo! Long time no see!!!! NOW we're getting BACK to WRITING here! The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout!

Marik: Wow. Am I excited.

MM: Of course you are! Without further ado, let us re-commence Angel's Tears!!!

Marik, reading a torn up piece of paper: Disclaimer. The Mystic Muses do not own Yugioh or its characters, blah blah blah, but they do own this story, which means that I have no right to complain of the many tortures—

MM, clamping Marik's mouth shut: ANYWAYS! Here we go!

Chapter 7

Battle City Circus

Yami sighed, hand gripping the metal-studded belt that looped drearily around his waist. The other duelists stood at rapt attention, fidgeting slightly as they peered around for Seto Kaiba. Some particularly aggressive-looking teens cracked their knuckles, glaring menacingly at the seemingly vulnerable hobbit named Yugi Moto, currently possessed by an ancient spirit from Egypt.

The Pharaoh's eyes darted around nervously, not searching for the ever-elusive millionaire Kaiba as the others did, but for little Andromeda. From his lofty perch atop the barbed-wire building, he jumped like a drowning grasshopper every time a brunette girl passed below.

"Yami, don't worry. She'll be here. You just wait and see," Yugi whispered from inside the comfortable confinements of his mind, peering through his dark side's eyes at the bleary world.

"How can you be sure? We don't even know who wrote that note," Yami muttered back, feeling the sweat dripping from his pulsating temple.

"Well, since he can write Egyptian so fluently, I'm guessing that he has black hair, tanned skin, and probably a very malignant glare in his eyes. Maybe in a white kilt?" the hikari suggested with a mental shrug.

Quickly, Yami's mind drifted off to a memory, the duelists' gibbering all around him fading into a dim mumble, like the sound of a gurgling stream far, far away.

"YAMI!"

With a scream, something latched itself onto Pharaoh's back, sending him tumbling head first into the austere maple. Groaning, Yami fell onto his rump with a crash, sending autumn's gift of amber leaves whirling into the sky in deep dismay.

"Andromeda? That better be you," he muttered, attempting to get up. His organic, living backpack foiled his plans by tugging on his arm.

"NOOOOOOO Yami, it's TEA!" it screamed sarcastically. "Andromeda isn't rude enough to tackle her boyfriend at random intervals for no apparent reason!"

Pirouetting around, Yami grasped a fistful of leaves and hurled it at the cackling witch of a girl dancing behind him.

"Haha, I'm stronger than you, I'm stronger than—AHHH!"

Andromeda rubbed the leaves off her face, ignoring the screeching claws of cellulose trying to make a home in her skin. "You're DEAD, PHARAOH!"

The world hushed around him.

"Yami! Get back to the real realm!" Yugi hissed.

Snapping out of his reverie, Yami's head jerked itself upwards, following the gaze of all the other duelists. His pupils contracted painfully at the sight of the blazing sun. Suddenly, the light disappeared as if swallowed by a dog, yielding humbly to an ominous shadow.

"Kaiba!"

Hand curling into a fist, he glared at the buzzing image of Seto upon the TV screen hanging from the blimp in the sky, sneering down at the world with his usual coldness. His trench coat collar guarded his stern expression as his words thrummed Yami's eardrums, pounding out a dirge for spring.

Strangely, Kaiba turned, almost staring Yami in the eye.

"I myself will be dueling…"

Something like an ice cube slid down Pharaoh's back, the deep freeze colonizing his back and pitching tents along his spine. The competitive whorl in Seto's pupils caught his attention. The sword-sharp skyscrapers around him seemed to lengthen forebodingly, their tips ripping at the fraying edges of his conscience as a horrid thought slid into his mind. Somewhere deep within his memory, an image struggled to surface and finally broke the barrier into his waking mind…

Ishizu stood before the tablet within the walls of the museum as Yami gaped in disbelief. His eyes trace his figure upon the tablet, as Pharaoh of Egypt, then turned its gaze toward the other figure hovering on the stone, his rival from five thousand years ago and the more recent Duelist Kingdom.

"Kaiba…"

"His soul is Egyptian, isn't it?" Yami said aloud to his hikari, brows furrowing as his heart pumped with the rage of an exploding volcano.

Gasping, Yugi studied the projection of Seto's visage, realizing how the millionaire boy didn't fit his description of a dark Egyptian in a white kilt at all. "Like Ishizu showed us. Do you think that he can really be…"

"Seto…if you took Andromeda just to hurt me, just to win at some silly card game…" Yami's teeth ground themselves together, his muscles tightening as hatred fed off his raspy mind.

Up on high, the smirking countenance of the Pharaoh's rival crackled and disappeared.

Marik Ishtar paced the golden chamber, his shadow dancing with the flames, which quavered in fear of the Egyptian boy.

"Yugi Moto. Duelist Kingdom champion." A sinister grin slid across his sculpted features, making his amethyst eyes flash like lava. "Favorite Monster…Dark Magician. Let's see what he's up to now."

Dropping into his golden throne, he twirled the Rod between lazing fingers. The Millennium eye upon it glowed rabidly, and a stream of crystal-clear visions sizzled through the back of his mind. A short boy with thundering brows and hair standing on end like the needles of a sea urchin came into focus. Legs planted firmly against the ground, he held his duel disk in front as if to protect his chest from the whipping chains of Exodia.

"Heartbroken, my pharaoh?" Marik spat, stroking his Millennium item adoringly. Slowly, his eyes wandered to the upside-down pyramid of gold dangling from his neck.

"Ah, the Millennium Puzzle. My gateway…" Looking up, he smirked at the rows of Rare Hunters standing in front of him, heads bowed as if fearing to meet his acid gaze. One shuffled from foot to foot, disturbing the rest of the sleeping shadows. Drumming his fingers against the armrest of his throne, Marik frowned. Such hard seats make his job so many times harder. Plus, Andromeda wouldn't like it at all.

I wonder if she would make me a cushion? Mind controlling for aimless little tasks might be amusing. Sneakier than air, a warm idea tiptoed into his brain—

Shaking his head like a wet dog, he threw out a wild daydream of holding Andry on his lap, both of them laughing together in harmony as Yami suffered at the hands of his Rare Hunters.

"Let us see…" Through the eyes of his servant, he watched as Yami shouted something and summoned his faithful Magnet warrior. Chuckling, the Egyptian boy watched the sweat drip from Pharaoh's brow as the Rare Hunter drew another piece of Exodia. "…how you will get out of this one."

Seeing his defenses gone, the Rare Hunter set the head of Exodia upon the field. The mummified monster surfaced from the concrete, grinning like a hyena.

"Well, this is a lot easier than I dared imagine," Marik murmured, acknowledging the nervous chuckles of his subordinates.

To his surprise, Yami's frown changed to a brilliant smile, eyes narrowing in bloody triumph. Lifting his hand, he revealed Chain Destruction. With a howl that tore apart the moon, the Rare Hunter watched, a helpless pup, as the dagger-tipped chain ripped through the head of Exodia and his deck, sending all the heads—and his chances of summoning Exodia—into oblivion.

A second later, the henchman lay twitching on the ground from the death blows of Magnet Warrior and Summoned Skull.

"That wily bastard…"

Rising to his feet, Marik paced the chamber, amusement erasing his annoyance at Yami's skill. Adrenaline shook his heart, sending flashes of frenzied energy dashing into his limbs as he looked upon the face of his ultimate prey. Raising the Rod to his chest, he shoved out the mind of the pleading Rare Hunter who had lost to Pharaoh, not bothering to watch it crash through the folds of the Shadow Realm.

In Dominio, Yami breathed deeply as Yugi collapsed in his mind, taking giant breaths like a storming mammoth's in his attempt to slow down the drunken tumble of his heart. Watching the pieces of the torn-up, phony Exodia escaping upon the zephyr like vagrant snowflakes, he looked down at Joey's Red Eyes resting in his hand.

"No…MASTER!"

Head jerking up like that of a dog smelling out a turkey dinner, the king watched in astonishment as his opponent, clutching his skull, rose to his feet. With a vicious trembling, as if dying from an unknown poison, the Rare Hunter let out a throat-ripping scream. His arms flew up and down to point in random directions, pulled about by a maniacal puppet master.

Like the sun tearing through the clouds, a sign like the eye upon Yugi's Puzzle shone out from the man's forehead. Eyes rolling back into his head to let veiny whites stare blindly into the city, his mouth dropped open, a mechanical voice speaking through his useless throat.

"Pharaoh!"

Words flowed from his lips like water from a barrel, flat and without feeling. Yami's ears phased out, his attention caught in the fiery glow of the eye. Turning from the dummy Rare Hunter to his dark side, Yugi bit his lip, eyes widening.

"Yami," he spoke through their mind link, "do you think it possible that, since this person can send the millennium symbol, that he's Egyptian, too? What if he has Andromeda?"

Yami's brows tucked themselves together like a pair of crossed arms. "But he barely knows me."

Yugi gave a mental shrug. "he may know a lot more than we suspect."

Back in the real world, the "master" did not seem to notice Pharaoh's sudden distraction.

"…remember my name: Marik."

Cautiously, he let out a question, suppressing the urge to grab the puppet's shoulders and throttle him for information on Andromeda.

"What do you want, Marik?"

Poised for action, Yami and his hikari listened to the "master's" plans. Eerily, it reminded them both of the threats of a certain Tomb Robber.

With one last robot-like cackle, the Rare Hunter crumpled like an autumn leaf.

"That murderous midget. How pathetic. Always pretending to be the hero in every possible situation. I bet he didn't hear half my words, wondering about Andry as he always would be." Gritting his teeth at the lack of fear on Yami's face, he turned around to order Rishid—

"Who's worrying about me?"

Blinking, Andromeda poked her head in between the double doors, doe-eyes staring innocuously at her apparently gorgeous boyfriend.

"Nothing, nothing…I was just…errr…" Forcing an emergency flush onto his arrogant cheeks, the youngest Ishtar tucked a hand behind his head in embarrassed dismay. Surreptitiously, he squeezed the Millennium Rod, feeling its golden atoms vibrate, then wither away into thin air.

Slipping past the Rare Hunters—all wearing hopelessly false-looking smiles—Andromeda hooked her arm through the Egyptian's and tugged. "Hey, are you busy? I wouldn't mind taking a walk in the garden right now," she suggested. "We should tell Derek to come along, too!"

"Sure, sure." Turning to the others, he waved a hand dismissively, tying to maintain some vestige of dignity while letting the girl drag him unceremoniously out the door. Digging through his confused and frustrated mind, he found Rishid's conscience, only to be distracted by Andry's continuous gossiping.

"Soooo, what were you saying about worrying about me?" she asked, hands on hips and tapping her foot belligerently.

"I was just worrying about you. About if you're bored locked up on this island with my employees and me and none of your old friends," he blabbed, each word tumbling over the next in its hurry to escape his chagrin.

"Awww, that's actually sweet for once, Marik," Andry responded, her feet carrying her outside as her companion tagged along.

A minute later, Andromeda sat at the foot of the willow at the edge of the meadow, reveling in the paralyzing touch of Marik's fingers in her hair. "So, brother Derek is coming soon, right?"

"Yes. Of course. Did you want to talk to him?" Marik asked, winding her ringlets around his pinky.

"Not that. I talked to him this morning, and he said that one of the clients, Rex—Yugi, this friend of ours, hated him—was talking about the Battle City Tournaments hosted by Seto Kaiba. Derek said that he wanted to go and practice his dueling skills, and perhaps get some news on the most powerful cards and meet up with Yami and the gang again," she explained, "So I was wondering if he can have permission to go? I really don't see why not," she added, fluttering her eyelashes provocatively.

"You don't have to bribe me into doing something for Derek," he answered, licking his lips as the meadow before them remained empty aside from the tumbleweed, absolutely free of Dereks, "Of course he can go. In fact, many of my employees are going. Derek can hitch a ride with them."

Running a finger tauntingly down his chest, Andromeda answered "thank you" just before his fist landed a playful punch on her side. She sighed as his warm arms made themselves into a nest for her shivering form, his tropical breath baking her cheek.

"Besides, Andry, if I ever demanded a bribe, you would have to give me so much more…"

She flushed redder than blood. "Marik!"

Marik groaned out loud as something horridly like a billion nails stabbed at the back of his head, leading to his back pulsing painfully where his father's scorching knife had dug in, forever engraving the Pharaoh's secrets into his silken skin. Arm twitching slightly, he rolled off the willow root as Andromeda drummed out an African folk song on his stomach.

"Good…girls…don't…tackle…!"

"Oh, then you seriously do not understand my sister," a voice interjected, turning Andry's sinister laughter into a squealed hello—and another tackle.

"Shoot, Derek! You always keep you footing!" she screamed, feet pawing uselessly at the ground and head drilling into his stomach as her brother held her by the shoulders.

"Well, I'm not charmed to dizziness by you as your boyfriends are," he answered, walking her to the willow, where Marik was just regaining his senses.

"Derek! Great job on that deal with Rex, by the way. He's so obsessed with winning that he doesn't even know he's paying much too high a price for those cards. I heard from your sister that you know Yugi, that absolutely brilliant twerp who beat Pegasus after winning all of Duelist Kingdom? He's an awesome duelist," he said, trying his best at not choking over the flattery.

"Yeah, he's great. He's got a truckload of luck up his belt, too," Derek added, smiling gently. "Andromeda misses him, don't you, sister?"

"Of course." Her voice rose, fell, then trailed away, drifting with the straying waves toward Domino. Wispy memories tickled her skin, carrying back the warmth of the dancing floors, the rush of cheeriness, the laughter of Tea and Serenity and all her titillating friends.

A hand squeezed her arm. "Andromeda? You okay?"

Turning, she looked into Marik's wide, concerned eyes, the violet whirling like the Shadow Realm. His platinum bangs stirred with the breeze, adding a pinch of lamentation to the purple innocence.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Now what about Derek and Battle City?" she prompted eagerly.

Reluctant, he turned away. "You may go with Umbra and Lumis tomorrow to participate in the Battle City Tournament, Derek. Have fun. Bring back some info on the best cards, their owners, seekers, et cetera. You know the drill."

"Thanks, boss!" Rubbing his hands together in exaggerated joy, he winked at his sister. "Now that my sister has managed to seduce my boss, I can get whatever I want. So I'll just leave you up to your tricks."

Before Andromeda's paper-white face could grow burgundy, her perverted brother had absconded into the woods. Marik's sun-kissed hand tightened around her own, like an oyster shell around its precious pearl. For a moment, they just sat there, watching the eternal sway of the willow branches that screened them off from the world of woe and trouble. Time could have passed them by, carrying off a million years, but all things would have remained the same. The tree would still stand behind them, shading them from the hum of the sun. The leaves would still never fall, the sea's heart would still beat as steadily as ever, and the meadow would still dance with its spectrum of petals. Even the clouds would freeze in the sighing sky like many cotton-candy icebergs floating upon the seas.

Watching Andromeda smile down at their clasped hands, he let his eyes crinkle in compassion.

Rishid, he said mentally, once Derek arrives at Domino, make sure that he doesn't run into the Pharaoh or any member of his crowd.

Yes, Master Marik, a mind replied from the other end of the line. Grinning brighter than ever, minus the usual spark of dashing wickedness, he pushed business out of his mind and pulled Andry in.

"Tell me. What's wrong?" he breathed in her ear, hands rubbing smooth circles over her stomach.

Closing her eyes and leaning against his chest, she allowed the lub-dub of his heart to soothe her churning stomach. The heat from his form reached out and mummified her, trapping her in a prison of his presence. It lulled her in, sending swirls of violet ballet-dancing across the blank recesses of her mind. Something within her torso screamed against the soothing feeling. The more she sank into his comforting warmth, the stronger the hand gripping her insides, its vice-like sides threatening to burst her heart.

"Marik, I'm so guilty. I don't belong here. I don't belong with you," she let out, a cold drop of crystalline liquid oozing out of her eye as his lips rubbed against hers.

He pulled back, nodding in understanding. "And why not? I know that we haven't known each other for that long, so if you want to take things slowly—"

"No, it's not just that!" Twisting around and studying his confounded face, she summoned up that image of a boy with tri-colored porcupine hair. "I…sort of…still like someone else."

Silence reigned for a moment, and Andromeda flinched. In her mind, the ocean stopped its perpetual lull, the grass straightened their backs to listen, and the tree hushed its breath so the air could vibrate with Marik's disappointment.

"Oh. Well, that's okay. I can wait," he offered, at a loss for exactly what to say. "If you've already had a boyfriend that you really loved and broke up with, it's none of my business to demand that you feel a certain way—"

"I know, Marik. But I should tell you. Just so you know and can make up your mind about me," she rushed, "His name is Yami. He is…oh, you won't understand."

"Try me."

She sighed. "He's a spirit, living within Yugi Moto's body. He helps Yugi duel. He's scintillating at dueling. It's his life. You've heard of him. We went out for a while, then I realized that it was taking too much of my time, and that it tired out Derek to no end. So I gave up. I broke up with him with the hint that once things got better for my family, I might get back with him."

"A spirit. Oookay. And…you actually meant to get back with him," Marik proffered as Andry slowed to a halt like a car before a brick wall.

"Yes. I did. But now, I don't know. I love you, Marik. I really do. And so I end up with all this guilt, even though I never promised him anything. Still, I know that he loves me, and that he misses me, even now."

Silent, Marik stroked her hands, letting her feelings fight themselves. Quietly, his mind reached into hers, drawing foggy veils upon her visions of the Pharaoh. Tendrils of mist grew along the threads of her memory, dulling the colors of Yami's amusing hair, its burgundy fading into a wasted pink and blending into a joyful stew with the yellows and blacks and the whites of everything else that she could not remember. His kind words dimmed to an echo in her ears, a sound that could never focus itself into sensible terms. The mummified scent of his clothing shriveled like a rose in the desert sands, its strength but a figment of the past.

Slowly, all the images burrowed into the white blanket of Marik's power, locked away in the back of her mind.

"Well, you can go back and speak with him, if you want. Now that your brother have a settled job with me, you have the condition of your return to him completely fulfilled," he suggested, trying to act helpful.

She grinned, indigo eyes narrowing as her lids drooped wearily.

"Thank you, Marik. I'll remember that."

MM: Do you know the Muffin Man who lives on Dreary Lane?

Marik: Yes. His name is Yami. He's on Dreary Lane because Bakura and I took over the world and good ol' Yami is stuck as our servant for the rest of eternity! MWAHAHAHA!

MM: Uh-huh. Well, anyways, this is winter break, so I'm hoping to update often and soon!

Marik: You better not! I'll mind control you and make sure that you NEVER get anywhere near the comp—HEY! GIVE THAT BACK!

MM: I/we are the possessor(s) of the Millennium Rod now!!!!! MWAHAHAHA!!!! Anyways, my/our friends, see you next time, at the House of Muse!

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