A/N: I completely revamped chapter three. It's very different, but that's what revisions are for. Please tell me what you think; I really need to know.
Sweet Perfected Naivety Meets Its Counterpart
Chapter 3: Caught in the Middle of Trouble
By LilPurplFlwr
Malik stood in the small kitchen, slowly washing the used dishes. He usually ended up doing this because he couldn't stand the clutter in the sink. Plus, he figured no one really knew how. Jou was practically incompetent with housekeeping. Bakura just didn't have the patience to do "such a woman's job". Mai just wasted the detergent. Yami managed to do it a few times when he saw it, but Yami rarely went into the kitchen and was usually pondering over the due payments. In fact, someone had to put food in front of him and coax him to eat or he wouldn't notice.
After he finished drying the last plate, Malik checked the house, hoping to find Bakura, Jou, Mai, or Yami. Malik snapped his fingers, realizing everyone must have gone out before he woke up. Apparently he was the only one who decided it would be a good day to sleep in.
"Let's see..." Malik ticked off the others on his fingers, "Mai said she'd drop by the supermarket with Jou. Bakura... he could be anywhere, actually. But he knows I'm staying in today so he won't do anything exciting without me. And knowing Yami, a prostitution ring probably recruited him or something."
If the house was bigger, Malik's voice would have echoed. Malik glared at the empty space around him, but suddenly heard someone sneaking behind him. He would have guessed that it was Bakura, but the steps sounded a little different. Malik couldn't figure out what it was that unnerved him about it.
Trying to look occupied, Malik stared sullenly out the long-time broken window as he reached for the blade he had secured on his forearm. When he was sure the person had stopped right behind him, Malik turned sharply, weapon in hand, but was perfectly countered by the other.
Malik's attacking arm was grabbed, and a cloth was held to his mouth and nose. His eyes focused on dark eyes before his senses were clouded over with the gaseous drug. As his muscles relaxed, his blade dropped with a clatter, and his body dropped forward toward the ground.
And everything went out like a light.
"Remind me again... how did I get stuck with you?"
Jou rolled his eyes, as he ambled through the plumbing aisle in the hardware store. Bakura followed airily behind him, his vigilant eyes darting between the skittish customers and security cameras.
"'Cause we need something 'dat looks like 'dis," Jou explained, fishing a cracked cylinder out of his jacket pocket.
"You don't say..." Bakura replied sarcastically, reaching out and quickly grabbing the piece of metal out of Jou's hand, "This is taking forever – I'll do it."
Jou raised an eyebrow as the other quickly stalked toward the nearest store employee. The blonde warily watched as the employee was jerked around and berated for not paying attention when they were supposed to be doing a job. Wincing, Jou backed himself away, quickly moving himself down about three aisles – where he could still hear strings of Bakura's vitriolic language.
"Nii-sama?!"
Jou turned his head down the aisle and nearly fainted from shock.
Mokuba Kaiba. The twelve-year-old was running down the aisle, a small bonsai tree clutched in his hands.
"Sumimasen ga [Excuse me, but]... have you seen someone about..." the boy stopped in front of Jou and waved his hand as high as he could reach (which wasn't much higher than Jou), "... this tall – maybe taller... brown hair, blue eyes... "
Mentally slapping himself to pay attention to the youngest Kaiba who was talking to him, Jou shook his head in response. It didn't take a genius to figure out whom the kid was describing.
Jou hadn't the fortunate (or unfortunate) experience of meeting the infamous Seto Kaiba. The senior in high school was the CEO of his own company – Kaiba Corporation, which could run the entire city if it so strived to. As Jou had heard, Seto Kaiba was the typical businessman – exceptionally diligent, strongly influential, and highly intelligent.
Now, the seventeen-year-old CEO did happen to have a few exceptions to the business world stereotypes.
Exception #1: Seto Kaiba, as young as he is, did not play the naïve card – he could, quite well, make grown men whimper in fear.
Exception #2: Seto Kaiba had yet to engage in social and political corruption.
Exception #3: Seto Kaiba was drop-dead gorgeous. And single.
Unfortunately, Jou had become oddly intrigued, per say, when he learned about Seto Kaiba. When the brunette had taken over his foster father's business – he had altered it greatly. Instead of using mass amounts of money on research and creation of nuclear and war arsenal, the new CEO had dropped it all in a heartbeat. Seto Kaiba had chosen a down-to-earth dream – a child's dream – based on the overly popular game Duel Monsters.
"Well --" Jou started to say, before he was interrupted.
"Oh! There he is!" Mokuba turned and withdrew from Jou, running to meet his older brother, "Thanks anyway!"
Jou followed the energetic, artless child with his eyes, back to the tall brunette – who looked like he was trying to keep from being mauled by his younger brother. Maneuvering behind the shelf, Jou peered secretly at the CEO, who was dressed in everyday clothes, but still had the flare of intimidation with the long black coat.
"Oh, please, Nii-sama?! You can keep it in your office or something!"
"Mokuba, I don't need a tree on my desk..."
"But... it's cute."
"... I know."
"Can't I at least get it for you? You can... throw it away if you don't want it... I want to get it though!"
An amused voice chuckled right behind Jou's ear, "You look like an idiot."
Jou recoiled, hitting his head against the back of the shelf.
"Ow! Shit, Bakura!"
Laughing evilly, Bakura tossed a new cylinder back and forth between his hands, the hardware occasionally disappearing as Bakura played with.
"Come on. Let's go," Bakura grinned, flashing his empty hands before nodding at the exit, surprisingly not teasing Jou any longer.
As they walked out the store, Jou glanced back and smiled as he saw Seto Kaiba purchasing the bonsai tree at the result of his brother's pleading.
"You still look like an idiot."
Jou gave Bakura a withering look, which the other pointedly ignored.
"... By the way, Bakura... did we pay for that?"
"Does it look like we did?"
Mai shifted the large brown bag in her arms, her fingers fingering the single key, trying to get it in the correct position in the keyhole. Biting her bottom lip, she tilted herself to the left, breathing a sign of relief when the key slid through and turned the lock.
"Tadaima. [I'm home.]"
Passing the couch on the way to the kitchen, Mai rolled her eyes when she caught sight of a motionless sprawled figure on the furniture.
'4 P.M. and he's out cold.'
She finished putting away the perishables in the miniature refrigerator, giving the machine an absent pat, before she stored the cereal and cans in the cubby-sized cabinet. As she left the kitchen, Mai gingerly sat down on the old homemade table, crossing her legs and leaning her right elbow on her knee. Her head dropped in a quizzical sense onto her open palm, as she eyed the young man asleep on the couch.
"Yami... you'll be the only man I'll ever know who sleeps with bills," Mai said softly, reaching out with her free hand to gently sweep the papers and envelopes off the other's flat abdomen. She stacked the papers and placed them beside her on the table.
She picked up the fallen checkbook and flipped to the mathematical figures in the beginning. They were doing okay – it could be better – but relatively safe until the summer. If any of them maintained a mundane job for at least two weeks, it would probably help relieve the stress of the diminishing spending money though.
Mai flipped a coin, snatching it out of the air with a good-humored smirk, "Time to get a copy of the Classified."
The sun was close to setting when Bakura and Jou walked through the front door.
Yami looked up from the classified page he was reading, staring at both of them until they closed the door.
"What?" Bakura asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"... Where is Malik?"
"I haven't seen him all day," Jou offered, as he toed off his shoes.
Mai peered out from the bathroom, a toothbrush tucked to one side of her mouth so she could talk, "Where have you two been all day?"
"I was lecturing Jou on the art of stalking," Bakura simply stated, giving his wrist a flick, the piece of metal falling neatly into his waiting hand. The said cylinder was tossed to Mai, who caught it with a frown before retreating to put it on the tiled countertop.
"Please. Don't ask," the blonde glared at the retreating back of Bakura, who headed to the room his shared with his missing friend.
"That's strange..." Yami said vaguely turning back to the monotonous newspaper ads, as Bakura disappeared into the small bedroom.
As Jou went to check the new inventory that Mai had bought this afternoon, Bakura walked back out with a vexed frown. Yami looked up again, watching the white-haired teen walk out the back door, only to return in a few minutes. Mai stepped out the bathroom, just as Bakura shouldered past her, scrutinizing the bathroom; he returned to the living room, where the other three had settled – all giving him a strange look that clearly stated, 'What the hell are you doing?'
Mai glanced at Bakura, where she was showing Jou an ad that needed someone to walk their four dogs daily for the next month, before she spoke, "You're looking worried, Bakura." Her light tone held a teasing edge.
Bakura's normally dark brown eyes flashed with a glint of red, as he crossed his arms. He paced the perimeter of the small room, disregarding Mai's comment with a small exhale. He knelt down below the window and picked up one of Malik's knives. It was just lying on the floor, looking very incongruous with the bare floor. Clenching the handle in his hand, Bakura turned around to face the group, a murderous look residing in place of his previously forced equanimity.
"... What's wrong?" Yami asked cautiously, getting up slowly.
"Well..." Bakura began, tapping the flat side of the blade against his palm as if contemplating something, "Malik said he was definitely staying home today – said he felt really tired last night. He was sleeping in this morning."
"Oh... shit."
"Shit's right."
"Perhaps we shouldn't have stayed out so late," Ryou said, inching even closer to Yuugi as they walked home. The other stayed silent, trying to stay calm, but quickened his pace when he saw a bar further up the street.
"True," Yuugi trembled, "But, think about it. We won't be seeing Honda for months, or at least until the next school break."
A group of inebriated college students leered at them as they ventured pass the dilapidated establishment. One wobbled to his feet, eyeing the anxious couple.
"Oh, shoot!" Ryou squeaked, one hand gripping Yuugi's upper arm.
"K-keep walking," Yuugi managed to say, grimacing slightly at Ryou's urgent hold.
A foreign hand spun Ryou around forcefully, though more uncontrollable strength as opposed to violent strength. Ryou stumbled, off balance, alerting Yuugi of trouble.
"Hey," the college student grinned, "I think I know you from somewhere."
"... I don't think so," Ryou lied, a weak smile crossing his face, the hand behind his back groping for Yuugi's for moral support, "I... I think you're... not thinking clearly."
Truthfully, now that Ryou looked closely, he did recognize the other boy. Now in college, the boy had been a senior when Ryou transferred to this city. How did Ryou remember such a nebulous figure in his life? At that time, the senior had assumed Ryou was a girl.
"No..." the older teen stepped closer, the scent of alcohol permeating Ryou's nose, "I could recognize that girly hair anywhere."
Simultaneously, Yuugi's hand slid into Ryou's damp hand, giving it a jerk as the tri-colored hair boy began to run, as Ryou hit the drunk teen's face with his palm – hard enough to start the flow of blood, but too light to actually break the nose.
The force of Yuugi's sprint instigated a rough start for Ryou, but he managed to pull himself together after the first few uneven jerks of his arm as Yuugi ran ahead, dragging him along. With a few unintelligible monosyllable sounds to indicate the pain in his arm, Ryou pulled Yuugi back, the two of them slowing to a walk as their parting destination approached.
"Pull my arm off, will you?" Ryou accused good-naturedly, rubbing his shoulder, as the two boys separated.
Yuugi panted slightly, shooting an indignant look at Ryou, and shook his head. Sometimes Ryou's random mood variations scared him - from timid to amiable in 0.2 minutes.
"Call me the second you get home," Yuugi demanded, each unwilling to leave the other to walk home alone, because of the escalated chances lately of getting hurt of killed. But since Ryou turned down a different street, Yuugi had to settle with watching his friend's lithe figure disappear down the faintly lit street, before bracing himself to get home himself.
Yuugi finally reached the large taped-off site on Main Street. Looking timidly into the calm, yet eerie, muted area on the street, he vaguely saw something move slightly. Almost scared to death, yet wanting to check out what it was, Yuugi walked towards the darker side of the area. He ducked under the yellow caution tape, and moved as quietly as he could towards where he had spotted movement.
He was only several feet away from the desired spot, hoping to be able to clearly see what had caught his attention. Surprisingly, the area around him was now almost pitch dark, so it was even harder to see where he was walking. Fortunately, he brushed against the wall and decided to use it for guidance.
Squinting, he began to see a clear outline of two people as he grew accustomed to the black atmosphere. In fact, one had the other pressed against the wall. Yuugi moved even closer and stifled a gasp of surprise.
One of the two figures bore an uncanny resemblance to Yami.
"So, are you going to answer or not?"
Yami's voice matched the dangerous situation – quiet and deadly. The other gangster remained reticent, quivering in the process as the knife was held firmly to his throat, threatening his silence. Yami moved the knife to the jugular vein – one slash at the important artery and the man would be a goner.
"You will tell me where he is – and maybe I'll even let you go," Yami said coldly, his other hand gripping the other's shoulder tightly.
The gang member nervously darted his watery eyes, and seemed to stare right into Yuugi's eyes. Yuugi shrunk closer to the wall, but the other noticed the shift and discovered Yuugi's location.
Trying to press himself further away from Yami's blade, the man, unable to laugh, still smirked triumphantly and muttered, "You've been caught."
Yami's eyes were set on the other's smile, which began to fade – until Yami switched his hold on the blade so the flat side rested on the man's pulsing vein.
"Really?" Yami said apathetically, giving the other a chilling smile himself, "You move and you die."
Yuugi could not understand why the man did not knock Yami's arm away, but under closer inspection, Yuugi found that both the gang member's arms were useless. One was swollen – most likely fractured from some kind of fighting – while the second one had been cut to the shallow bone. Yuugi was amazed that the man was not in shock from all the pain he must be in.
"You better come out now," Yami ordered, staring into the shadows where he heard the smallest shuffle.
Yami released his hold on the man's shoulder and reached behind his back. He grasped his second knife he had under his sweatshirt, which had been strapped securely to the small of his back. He angled his knife until the edge was touching the other's neck, stilling any fidgeting.
A small figure became evident. Soon, Yami was able to depict a pair of darkened violet eyes peering at him fearfully.
"... Yuugi??"
Malik moaned softly, rolling over as his consciousness began to return. As he opened his eyes, it was completely dark around him. Only a small sliver of dim light came from beneath the door. Trying to feel around himself, he discovered his hands had been tied together tightly with a strip of cloth. Each of his ankles had been roped to posts of some kind. He was lying on a soft mattress – which meant he was tied to a bed with bedposts.
Uncomfortable with the awkward position his arms were tied in, Malik struggled to sit up. As he did, a nauseous feeling rolled through him and his head felt like he had just inhaled water. Gritting his teeth and refusing to whimper, Malik groaned and shook his head. What was going on?
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm in deep shit," whispered Malik, not quite remembering the details, but knowing he needed to get out before anything else happened.
As he tugged on his bonds, the door opened on his left, spilling weak light on his frantic movements. Malik blinked like a deer in the headlights as the black silhouette of a person walked in, shutting the door behind him. The room plunged back into darkness, and the distinct sound of locking cut through the stillness. A lamp next to the bed was turned on, blinding Malik as he turned his head to alleviate the pain in his eyes.
Recovering, Malik turned back with a death glare, taking a good look at the foolish idiot who was about to die – once he got out of his bonds.
"Malik," his kidnapper purred, crawling on the bed, "It's so nice to see you again."
A/N: Please review!