The X-Effect

- ThiefShipping: Yami Bakura x Malik -

- DeathShipping: Yami Mariku x Ryou -

Glad to see the fic is actually being enjoyed— I always get worried. Thanks everyone for reviewing and favouriting! It means a lot to me~

I won't ramble too much more. Here's the next chapter, hope it's up to expectations!

Chapter 1: Cloudy With a Chance of Rain

"Ryou-san, where are you going next?" Malik asked while smiling at what might possibly be his new friend. "I have…" He checked his schedule. "History."

"Aw," the white-haired boy remarked absently while he pursed his lips in a pout. "I have Chemistry, blocked. That's depressing, I was hoping we would have more classes together. What do you have fourth period? I'm in Literature."

Malik perked up a bit, smile widening. "Hey! Me too. With Harper-sensei?"

"Yes!" Ryou exclaimed, laughing. He would've clapped his hands together if he wasn't clutching his books to his chest. "Oh, good, we will have another class together! Ah, wait, you said you have history next?" He questioned, frowning a bit. "Bakura-nii is in that class, I think."

Tanned features fell into a scowl. "Great."

"… He's not too bad," Ryou pushed a bit, forcing a small smile. After a moment it became genuine, widening a bit when Malik looked at him in honest disbelief. "He's just a bit antisocial. Really, Bakura-nii is a good person… the walls he puts up, and the way he carries himself, just makes it seem like he's not. It's almost like a test." He hesitated for a moment before letting out a gentle chuckle. "I won't lie and say he'll warm up to you, though."

"I don't know if I particularly want him to," Malik admitted honestly, laughing in good nature. "You're more pleasant."

"Why thank you, I do my best." The boy paused. "Although I'm not being compared to much, here."

Malik laughed again, Ryou soon joining in, before waving a good-bye as they parted ways down the hallway. Mariku caught up with his brother, having been hanging back a bit. He pushed his twin's shoulder roughly but affectionately, offering a toothy grin. Malik just scowled at his brother and stuck his tongue out.

"Did you hear Ryou-san?" the younger Egyptian asked suddenly. Mariku looked momentarily thoughtful before shaking his head in a 'no.' "Well, apparently, his brother is in our next class."

Mariku's face turned into a scowl, one almost completely identical to the one his brother had given Ryou earlier. He had been told of that boy. "Joy, Mr. Cheerful himself."

"You two would probably get along."

"Somehow I doubt that," Mariku snorted, stuffing one hand into his pocket. His books were shoved under his other arm. "I think we'd end up fighting. I don't like that guy."

Malik sighed as they approached the classroom, walking in. "I don't either, brother, but at least attempt neutrality. I don't want to explain to Ryou-san why you killed his twin."

The elder twin barked a laugh, ruffling the other boy's hair. "Haha! You know no matter how much I'd like to, I could never get away with murder. Too hard to cover up."

"Rather, you're just messy."

A pause. "… Well, yeah, that too, I guess."

The twins sat down at two empty desks in the back, continue the idle chatter. Mostly it was Mariku pinpointing people already on his vendetta despite it only being first period (he kindly left Bakura out of it), and Malik adding in his occasional opinion (such as one black-haired somewhat tanned skin student thinking he was a girl— that caused Mariku to chuckle, eventually having to hide his face in his arms, head on the desk, he was laughing so hard). The two Egyptians didn't notice the students filing in as they chatted, except when the elder twin saw a flash of white hair.

Immediately, Mariku was at attention. Malik gasped, having a bad feeling his twin was going to do something stupid (it was inevitable), and attempted to grab the other boy's sleeve. He missed miserably as his brother shot out of the desk and over to Bakura, who was sitting about two rows up. The pale teen looked up at the other boy, raising an eyebrow in subtle confusion— mostly, though, he looked irritated at being bothered. The Egyptian only smiled, although it lacked any sense of humour or actual amusement.

"Bakura, right?" Mariku began, leaning somewhat against the desk behind him and to the side of Bakura. The white-haired teen didn't get a chance to respond. "Just wanted to tell you something, hotshot." The smile turned into a grin— a malicious, evil thing with hidden anger. He leaned down a bit, in the other boy's face. "You do not mess with my brother, unless you want to deal with me."

Bakura snorted. "At the risk of sounding like a child, he did start it." He leaned back in his seat, taking his gaze to the book in his hand. Some sort of chapter book he had to read for literature. He got behind— surprise, surprise. "Your brother's not even worth my time— and so long as he stays out of my way, I won't go out of it to harass the brat. No promises. He seems to like treading on thin ice."

"Tch." Mariku scoffed, straightening back up. "Whatever you say. Just keep that in mind." The glare hardened. "I don't take lightly to people picking on him."

"Mariku! Get back over here!" Malik snapped from his desk, standing up with his palms splayed on the surface. He seemed more flustered than much else. "Stop poking the bear!"

The Egyptian looked over, annoyed, before it slowly turned to confusion, as the gears in his head seemed to visibly tick. "Wait," he started slowly, holding up a hand in a 'hold it' sort of gesture. "Don't poke the cloud? That doesn't sound right… Although…" He looked at Bakura's hair, silently musing. The mahogany-eyed teen turned his head to glare, not liking the "nickname" or the sudden staring. "Hmm…" He reached out to touch the other boy's hair, specifically the two 'wing-like' parts, and the hand was promptly smacked away with a snarl.

"Don't touch me," Bakura snapped.

Mariku scowled, holding his hands up defensively with an irritated pout. "Down, Fido. Sheesh. Protective of your hair, aren't we, cloud?"

The other Egyptian slapped a hand to his forehead, groaning. "Kuma, not kumo," Malik said slowly, enunciating the words impatiently. "Don't poke the bear. Not the cloud, that doesn't even make sense… You need to study more," the boy eventually announced irritability as he crossed his arms and blew a strand of hair out of his face, sitting back down. "Get over here."

"Stop bossin' me around, geez," the elder twin murmured bitterly, stuffing his hands into his pockets before shuffling over to his brother (though not without a glare cast in Bakura's direction first). Something was said in another language (which obviously irked Malik even further) as he sat down, slumped across his desk using his arms as a pillow like a pouting child. Bakura shook his head, sneering, before beginning to read again. He barely heard the bell ring and the teacher begin talking.

History went by slowly.

It couldn't be considered hell, Mariku mused, but it must have been pretty damn close to it— maybe a floor or two above. Hell's attic, perhaps.

The twins ended up slightly lost in the lesson considering they transferred in at about the middle of the chapter, so Malik muttered to his brother how they'd have to do the rest on their own. They were expected to take the test next week, and do the project that was coming up soon after. Mariku probably would've been more pissed at that aspect had he actually been listening during class. Instead, he pretended to take notes when, in reality, he was writing a black list… or doodling— or both, really. Malik would glare at him, silently telling him to pay attention, but Mariku easily ignored him. He was too busy drawing grisly murders in his notebook or, if he felt like exerting no energy, ninja stick men.

When the bell finally rang, the twins parted ways. Malik hissed under his breath to his brother to 'behave' and the other just laughed. He waved and that was the last Malik saw of him until lunch. The younger twin had gym next, which he was already dreading darkly. He was never the most athletic person around, and he hated changing in front of people. Could they wear long-sleeves? He hoped so.

Mariku was off to drawing. When he had told his brother he was taking it, the other couldn't help but be surprised ("Drawing, really? You?"). Mariku was adamant though— he wanted to take it. Honestly, he really did like drawing, although most of it was a stress-relieving sort of technique rather than anything really "artful" or tactful. He didn't tend to listen to orders already, so he had a feeling he'd be doing his own thing in the class and hoping that got him by. If it didn't, it didn't. He was at the point where he really just didn't care. He was okay with that.

Drawing was pretty boring. The blond ended up paying no attention at all since his teacher was just prattling on about the "colour wheel" and some nonsense about colours— basically, things that Mariku really didn't care about because… well, he didn't care. So some colours should never be put next to each other, big deal. He wondered how his little brother was handling, especially with gym. But his mild big-brother worry was forgotten as he went to chemistry for two more fun-filled periods.

Lunch was a welcomed period.

Malik met up with his brother at their locker and soon both discovered each had assumed the other was bringing their lunch— so they ended up with nothing and walked into the cafeteria hungry. No money, no food. Mariku muttered something about 'dying of starvation because of neglectful brothers' but his younger twin only rolled his eyes in exasperation. He'd survive. He promised.

Ryou waved them over to a nearby rectangular table, where he and a few others sat. One of them was Bakura, who was right next to his brother.

A blond sat there too, with two brunets sitting on each side of him. A black-haired boy sat across from the spiky-haired brunet, and next to him was a cheerful looking girl with a tri-colour haired boy sitting to her immediate right.

Malik instantly bristled at the one face— that one boy from earlier who had decided hitting on him was a good idea. That boy seemed to brighten up, grinning, and waved at him too as they walked over. The Egyptian immediately scowled as they approached. "Oh great. It's you," he murmured.

"Aw, come on now, don't be mad," the boy started with a laugh. "I'm sorry again 'bout that little mix-up. Please forgive me, babe?"

Mariku was at immediate defense. "Whoa, dude," he started, looking irritated, as he held a hand up. "You're hitting on my brother."

"He's aware," the one brunet stated with a lazy grin. "Don't mind Otogi. You two are the new kids, right? I'm Honda." He stuck out his hand (specifically his left) and Malik brushed it off. Mariku just scratched the back of his head awkwardly, stuffing one hand into his pocket.

"Yeah. We are," the elder twin said.

Ryou jumped in, smiling. "Everyone, this is Mariku-san and his twin Malik-kun." He pointed to the farthest person from him: an annoyed looking brunet. "Over there is Kaiba-san. Next to him is Jounouchi-kun," he pointed to the blond. "And Honda-san just introduced himself." Now Ryou was pointing to the far end, opposite table. "The, er, one flirting with you is Otogi-san—"

"You can call me sweetie~ if you'd prefer."

"Let's not," Ryou continued seamlessly and ignored him pleasantly. "Next to Otogi-san is Anzu-chan, and right beside her is Yugi-kun." He smiled, happy the introductions were out of the way. "Sit down, please?"

Mariku eyed the black-haired boy (so dubbed "Otogi" … he'd remember that one, if none others) skeptically before sitting down across from Bakura. Malik sat to his left and next to Yugi. He smiled awkwardly at Ryou, the younger Egyptian looking and feeling a bit out of place.

"How has your first day been, you two?" The white-haired twin asked for conversation's sake, absently plopping a piece of fruit into his mouth.

"Explosive," the elder Egyptian said quickly, laughing at the look of shock that came over Malik's face.

"Oh gods dammit Mariku, you did not!"

He scratched his cheek, looking upward innocently. "Sort of did."

"I thought I told you to behave," Malik seethed.

"Did you suddenly turn into nee-san?" Mariku snorted.

A stream of (angry) Egyptian-Arabic flooded out before Ryou coughed, drawing their attention back to him. The white-haired boy smiled awkwardly, sweat-dropping. "Er, well, it sounds like an, ah, eventful day on your part, Mariku-san… What about you, Malik-kun? You weren't in Literature, I was a bit worried…"

The Egyptian blushed, looking down at the table bashfully. "I… Yeah, I, uh, got sent to the office."

Cliffhanger sort of— a bad one, regardless. Sorry! The original chapter 1 was way too long, so it had to get split off somewhere and unfortunately it was all sewn together a bit too well to really leave it off anywhere else.

Read & Review & Critique please! Any flames will be redirected to Mariku, who really wants to use his new flamethrower. But please, don't give him a reason to.

[sighs] I'm sleepy. I need a nap, I think… school's got me drained. I hate being a 12th grader sometimes! [curls up in blanket]