The X-Effect

- ThiefShipping: Yami Bakura x Marik -

- DeathShipping: Yami Mariku x Ryou -

One month later, I update. Did you think I died? This chapter was hell to do because it's so un-fun and… so… filler. I'm really sorry, but it was sort of needed. You get a bit more of a look into what Mariku and Malik do at work. A bit more on the relations… sort of.

I don't feel like rambling too much, haha.

Chapter 8: Subtle Relations

Malik really hated his job sometimes.

The museum was supposed to be a remotely quiet place. It was rarely ever dead silent like a library (nor should it ever be like one, it was supposed to provoke discussion), but it was quiet enough that you could have many people in a room and the noise level would never be blistering and loud.

Today, however, was not one of those days because, also today, there was another school tour.

Glowering briefly at the group of grade school children that had come into the museum for an after-class tour, Malik attempted to talk over their shouts. "Kids, kids, come on, now! Keep your noise level lower— inside voices, right?" He forced a smile.

A particularly bratty purple-haired girl only stuck her tongue out at the blond. Malik hated that kid. Moko? Miki? Something with an M. He had no clue. She visited often with her class but despite that he never remembered her name. He decided he really didn't care.

He clapped his hands together a few times, surprised that the action actually caused the group of 11 or so to quiet down. Their teacher had basically left him to monitor the collection of brats by himself, something that Malik also wasn't unfamiliar with (nor particularly liked). Quick to seize the moment he had control over, the Egyptian boy motioned to the display behind him. "Now, kids! Do you know what this is?"

"No," one of the quieter children chimed in. Malik sort of liked her. She sort of looked like a sheep, acted like one too, but she was smart enough and loved hearing Malik spin tales.

"Nu-uh, tell us! Tell us!" Another little boy chimed in, excitedly bouncing a bit.

Malik grinned. It was fake. "Well, this is the Roman Empire display. It's a warrior, leaving for battle. Do you know anything about that, kids?"

He must have repeated the same dialogue at least twice every day, close to 14 times a week. He could probably do it in his sleep if he really felt like it— but he didn't. So he went through the routine, he explained every floor and every room. He wove tales and spun stories— some fake, some true, some a combination of both. Eventually, he led them all to the gift shop and watched them with a careful eye until, finally, their teacher came and rounded them up. She left with a vague goodbye and thank you directed at Malik, who faked a grin before irritably snatching a magazine and starting to flip through it as he rested against the counter.

"You look ready to strangle someone."

"I am," Malik replied without hesitation. He glanced over to meet the amused gaze of his brother.

Mariku only laughed. He leaned on the counter top, chin in his hand with a grin on his face. "I see that Class A from Orimizaki was back."

"Class B," the other twin absently corrected, returning his eyes to the article. It was some lackluster story about the ancient Greeks that, despite his interest in the culture, didn't capture his attention at all. "They're a handful to say the least. Say, did that orange-haired fellow ever come back?"

"The one that was smoking in here and set the magazine rack on fire?"

"That's the one."

Mariku let out a low, dark chuckle. "Rishid took care of him for me since 'Orange' seemed so intent on returning."

"Ah. Well, anyway, I think one of the kids in that class was his," Malik explained with a shrug. "She was just as bratty and troublemaking— looked a lot like him, too. Think she mentioned her 'daddy' getting kicked out."

"A kid?" Mariku raised a brow, looking bored rather than curious. "I can't imagine him being married."

"I don't think he is."

"Then that would explain a lot. Hey, would you give that back?" Mariku snapped absently, reaching out to tug the magazine out of Malik's grip. Said twin glared at his brother, grabbing for it but Mariku only held it out of his reach with a scoff. "You always walk off with them, you little shop-lifter, then I end up paying for the stupid things."

Malik huffed. "One time."

"Try six."

"Oh it was not that many," the younger twin retorted, scrunching up his nose as he leaned over the counter once more, groping for the magazine held above his brother's head. Mariku didn't relent, only scowled.

"Debatable. My back pocket says otherwise, as does your desk space at home. Will you—go do your job!" Mariku quickly snapped, irritable, as he used his free to hand to shove his twin back by the face. "Off with ya, you're distracting me from my job and my customers!"

Malik stumbled back just a bit, rubbing his nose when he regained his footing. "What customers?" He glanced around the store, frowning. "There's nobody in here, you loon."

The older boy rolled his eyes. "There will be when you go and do your job," Mariku pointed out, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter top again. "Besides, the mop will report you to Boss if he catches you in here."

"The what?" Malik blinked, turning to his brother with confusion. "The mop? Mop? As in what the clean-up man uses?"

"… You're slow," the spiky haired boy huffed, grabbing the collar of his brother's shirt and tugging him close, hissing into his ear, "Takanaka, you moron."

Malik shoved him away, frowning. "What is it with you and nicknames?"

"People never know who I'm talking about then. I can towel on them in public and it nothing comes back to anyone!" The other boy announced gleefully, smirking sadistically.

"You can what on them? Did you say towel?"

Mariku looked at his twin as if he was stupid. "Yeah, towel," he repeated slowly. He rolled his eyes as if to say 'geez you're stupid.' "You know, like to make fun of 'em?"

Malik deadpanned. "…That's rag. You can rag on them in public, not towel. You idiot, that doesn't even make sense. Where are you picking up this slang and how are you managing to screw it up that much?"

"Shut up," the other blond retorted, glaring. "And if you're not going to buy something, get out or I'll call Rishid on you."

"Tattle-tale."

"Takes one to know one."

Malik rolled his eyes but stalked out of the store, at least managing a wave to his brother before stuffing his hands into his pockets. Truth was he had no other official tours lined up for the day. He could explore and just look at all the exhibits— because he did like doing that and it certainly killed a good amount of time— but he just didn't feel like it today. With a sigh, he sat down on the bench somewhat near the entrance and exit. Malik glanced up to the large stone skeleton that towered over him, the remains of some sort of dinosaur that he forgot the name of. He didn't know dinosaurs.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the bench, just resting until he heard a voice break the quiet.

"Sir, may I ask you a question? You work here, right?"

Violet eyes opened slowly, and Malik straightened himself up. "Ah, yes I do… How can I help you, ma'am?" He looked into her eyes, a force of "polite habit" and couldn't help but notice the striking blue-green eyes she had and the piercing white hair that fell around and framed her face. She was wearing black pleated pants, feet adorned with brown and heeled sandals that looked a little beaten up, but still in good condition. Her long hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and the sea blue blouse-like shirt finished off her look.

Who did she look like? Did he know her?

"I was wondering, is there another entrance around here by any chance?" She asked softly, but her eyes were strong. Malik could tell that she was a fairly feisty woman if she wanted to be— a caged tiger.

"Oh." Malik glanced around a bit, as if to double-check himself before actually responding. "No, ma'am, this is the only one. I'm sorry."

She let out a small laugh. "Oh, well, I see. I suppose we just didn't cross paths at the right time… I can't find my son, that's all," she responded coolly, turning her head to look over her shoulder. "Have you been here long? Have you happened to see him, possibly?"

"How old is he, ma'am?" Malik asked, standing up and preparing to call Rishid to tell him there was a missing child. He hoped not, because this woman was being oddly calm about it, but he never knew. Perhaps she was going to pick up one of the grade school kids from that Class B group.

"About your age, I'd assume, if you're a teenager," the woman replied. She was still not looking at him. "You don't need to radio in for him or anything, if that's what you're about to do."

Malik just quietly slipped his walkie-talkie back into his pocket. "Are you sure, ma'am?"

"He's a big boy," she simply responded. Now she turned her head to meet his gaze, smiling softly. "I'm sorry for holding you up. Thank you."

With that, she bowed and walked off, her heels clacking noisily against the marble floor of the museum. Malik stared at her back for a moment before shaking his head, ruffling his hair. 'That was weird,' he thought to himself. 'She really does look familiar, though. I wonder if I'm just imagining things?'

Adjust his jacket, the blond let out a sigh before starting to walk towards the basement. The cafeteria was down there, and he hadn't gotten his lunch break. He had just gone down a few steps when a flash of white going past the stairs at the bottom caught his eye. 'That woman again?' he wondered, glancing in the direction the white went. 'How did she manage to get downstairs so fast? I saw her go towards the Wildlife exhibit…'

He went down the rest of the flight and when he turned to his right, he felt more than little surprised at who he saw. Striking white hair and a light-blue jacket and skin as pale as paper, nearly. Sitting at the cafeteria and dining hall's table, swinging his feet with a book in his hand and eyes focused intently on it, was none other than—

"Ryou?"

Said white-haired boy looked up at his name, recognizing the voice, and immediately spun around. "Ah! Malik-kun!" Ryou chirped, snapping his book shut and started to get up, walking over towards him as Malik did the same. They met half way and the English boy smiled cheerfully. "Hello! What are you doing here?"

"I think that's a better question for you," Malik responded without skipping a beat, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Why areyou here? Just visiting the museum or something?"

"Oh, yes! I love coming here," Ryou replied, shifting a bit as he stood there with the book clenched awkwardly in his hands. "I'm an, ah, fan of the wildlife centre and the British displays on the… what was it, second floor?"

"Third floor," Malik corrected without even thinking. "So you're a museum go-er, huh?" He smiled a bit. "Always good to hear, since I don't meet many nowadays. Come often?"

Ryou's porcelain cheeks flushed a bit. "Ah, yes, I am! I try to come once every few weeks," the teen admitted quietly, a smile forming on his lips as well.

"Are you all by yourself?" Malik looked around, standing on his tiptoes to see completely over Ryou's head. The white-haired Brit only laughed at the action before his smile widened, looking up at Malik.

"No, I was supposed to be meeting up with my okaa-san," he explained. "I can't seem to find her, however. Would… uh, would you like to…" Ryou's cheeks were suddenly a shade redder and his voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Malik-kun, would you, ah, like to, well, accompany m-me for, uh, for now?"

Malik had to strain his ears to hear the other boy, but after figuring out the request, he frowned a little. "I'd like to, but I do sort of need to eat…" Trying to ignore the saddened look Ryou suddenly had, he glanced over at the vending machines. "Well, I'll just get something from there." He turned his gaze back to Ryou and smiled. "Okay?"

Ryou's face brightened immediately as he smiled. "Okay!"

(-)

"So you said you came here with your mother?"

Ryou snapped from his daydream abruptly, looking over at Malik with a beaming smile. "Well, sort of— we were going to meet at the entrance, but we seemed to have missed each other. I can't find her," he admitted, laughing a little. "I wouldn't imagine she'd be this hard to miss, but apparently she is."

"You can't call her?" Malik pressed, raising an eyebrow as he took a swig from his water bottle.

"No," Ryou responded easily with a shrug. He couldn't afford a cell phone, although he had been discussing with his mother about possibly getting at least one for between the twins. "She's the only one who has a cell."

"Oh." Malik blinked a few times, but decided he wasn't ultimately too surprised. No one in his family had owned one until a few days ago. There had never been a need for it and even then, they could barely afford it— they were slightly better off now, enough they could afford a phone for Ishizu and Rishid if anything. Realizing Ryou was still talking, Malik attempted to tune back in.

"I do hope she doesn't think I abandoned her, or something," Ryou continued on, frowning as he bit his lip.

"I doubt it."

"I never know," Ryou replied but shook his head, offering the other boy a smile. "So, Malik-kun, why are you here? Visiting as well?"

Malik looked down at his uniform. A simple white and collared shirt, black dress pants, and a nametag that bore his name as well as an odd amount of dinosaur stickers (blame placed on Mariku). It was sort of obvious he worked there, but he supposed maybe Ryou just thought he dressed up. Finally speaking back up, he laughed a little, "Ah, uhm, no. I work here."

The look of shock on Ryou's face caused it to rival that of a child's. "Really? Oh, my, I can't believe I didn't notice that!" He chided himself a bit, knuckle to his lip. After a moment of reflection, Ryou spoke back up. "So… what do you do? It's really, ah, neat you work here," the white-haired boy admired, flushing slightly.

"Thanks." Malik grinned. "I work as a tour-guide and a docent. You know, I talk to people about anything and everything and hope they vaguely retain some part of it so I don't have to answer a question about it later." The Egyptian started to laugh, causing Ryou to chuckle as well.

"I see," he replied with a smile. "How did you get a job here so fast?" He wondered aloud. He'd dream on occasion about working here, although every time he'd attempted to apply they found someway to turn him down. Usually, they claimed it was his age— he guessed it was more so because of something else entirely. As the saying goes: Word did spread fast, so went the rumour (1).

"My sister's a curator," Malik explained, breaking Ryou of his thoughts. "She got offered a job here. Back home, she worked at the Cairo Museum. They needed help with the Egyptian exhibit, so…" He gestured around vaguely, laughing, "here we are!"

Ryou smiled. "I see. Curator, hm? That's really neat," he commented. "I never knew that was the reason you moved."

Malik almost said 'that's only half the reason,' but realized that it opened the door for a whole slew of questions he didn't want to answer. It was best to leave it unsaid, so he did. Just smiling at his friend, he instead replied: "Yeah, I guess it never really came up." Malik stuffed his hands into pockets with a shrug, that smile still sitting on his face. "Quick question for you."

"Hm? Oh, uh, shoot," Ryou squeaked out, surprised for a moment.

Malik didn't notice— or if he did, he didn't say anything about it. Taking his eyes to the white-haired boy, he raised a brow. "Did you want to just visit the exhibits with me, or did you want to find your mother? I'd imagine she's wondering where you are…"

"Oh. Yes, uhm, we should try to find her," he admitted quietly, looking to the ground. "However, if we go to the exhibits ourselves, I'm sure she's bound to be in one of them," he reasoned quietly. "She'll be looking for me, I'm sure."

"What does she look like?"

"Me," Ryou replied simply, laughing. "We get mixed up from behind quite often, despite the fact she's almost always in a skirt or something. People even think I'm her when I answer the phone, it's really quite annoying at times. They say I'm definitely her son," he grinned as though it was a good memory. "Her eyes are green, however. Father was the one with brown eyes, but otherwise we look just alike down to our faces, even."

Malik paused, faltering his step for a moment. He regained his footing without Ryou's notice and frowned. "She has white-hair, then?" He asked, frowning.

"Quite right," Ryou agreed, keeping his eyes forward with a smile. He seemed to be in a good mood. "It's even long, just like Bakura-nii and I."

"I've seen her," Malik started hesitantly. "She had it back in a ponytail. There was woman who came through the entrance, looking for her son— I thought she looked familiar but I couldn't place it. I guess now if I think back on it, she really did look just like you," he laughed awkwardly. It was weird to think he had just met his (best?) friend's mother without even realizing it. "She went off to…" He thought back quickly, racking his brain. "Wildlife. Third floor. I corrected her."

"Oh, marvelous!" The other teen chirped, clapping his hands together. "Let's go find her, then, shall we?"

(-)

The museum always added a sense of comfort.

When Malik walked through the corridors he had come to memorize, know, and love in only a few weeks, it just calmed down every spiking nerve in his body. He needed that right now, because he had never met another person's mother before (if he was honest, he barely "met" his own). When they finally found the woman, she was sitting on the bench in the Wildlife exhibit, reading a flier. She seemed to just detect that her son had walked in, for the mother's head snapped up at the noise as she smiled at them. She walked over, recognizing Malik immediately, and couldn't help but mention the irony.

Ryou laughed. Malik didn't.

He would admit it: he was nervous. He didn't know what to say or how to act, so he pretended he was talking to a teacher. He tried to use every brutally polite form he knew and not only speak but act formally towards her. Eventually Michie Bakura noticed his unease, something he hoped she wouldn't, and offered him a wane smile as they walked through the exhibits. They had gone through the Wildlife area and were now sort of wandering aimlessly.

"Malik, was it?" Michie spoke up. When the blond nodded, she continued: "You seem very uncomfortable."

The Egyptian frowned, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Sorry. No, I'm not really, I guess," he muttered with a shrug, lying through his teeth. "I hope I haven't offended you?"

The white-haired woman let out a laugh. "No, no, not at all. You're talking to me like I'm some amazing idol, however," she remarked. "You're being very formal. I'm just worried about your comfort level, here— I don't mean to be intimidating."

Ryou smiled. "She's lying. I honestly think a lot of where Bakura-nii gets his intimidation is from okaa-san," he remarked with a laugh. Michie playfully smacked him on the back of the head, smirking. He held his head and glanced over to Malik, who was watching with a reproachful eye. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Malik replied with a wave of his hand. "Nothing. I'm just spacing out a bit, I'm sorry." He glanced around the museum hall, frowning lightly. "I should probably get back to work, though—"

"Oh gosh! We held you up, I'm so sorry," Ryou spluttered, grabbing at Malik's sleeve and tugging him as if to drag him back to where they found him. The blond smiled awkwardly, fumbling in time with his friend's footsteps for a moment as Ryou started to drag him along.

"Ry! It's okay, don't worry! Don't worry!" Malik reassured with a laugh as he tugged his arm back a bit, causing Ryou to stop and look at him with a frown. Malik smiled. "Have you ever gone to the gift shop?" he questioned, motioning for the two to follow them. "It just got some new trinkets in the other day, they're sort of neat."

Ryou's mother nodded, crossing her arms. "That sounds like a good idea… Ryou, dear, let him go."

Awkwardly, the white-haired boy did, offering his friend an apologetic smile. Malik barely noticed, starting to walk towards the store with his hands stuff into his pockets. He nudged the door with his knee, holding it open with his back as he waited for Ryou and his mother to walk through. While they took their time getting there, Malik called over the racks and counter: "Hey! You still fighting off the customers?"

"Oh, fuck you," came the voice from under the counter, "and if you're in here to get another magazine, get out."

Malik smiled as Mariku popped his head out, slamming a few miscellaneous books onto the surface as he did. "Re-stocking the shelves, huh?" Malik asked conversationally, wandering into the store after Ryou and Michie as the door shut behind them.

"Yeah, I forgot to after Orange lit them up," the spiky-haired teen grumbled, reaching under the counter and pulling out a few more.

"Slacker," Malik admonished, smirking.

Mariku tossed him a scowl from over his shoulder, walking around to the rack and starting to put the magazines away in vaguely "proper" places.

Malik watched him for a moment before speaking up. "Hey, by the way," the blond turned around and smiled at the boy Mariku seemed to not notice. "Ryou, my brother works here, too."

Mariku dropped the magazines. Peering around the shelf, eyebrow raised, Mariku found himself about a foot away from Ryou's face— the white-haired teen had leaned around at the same time. "… Well, hello there, creampuff."

"Ah, hello, er, Ishtar-san," Ryou squeaked out, skirting back a few more feet. He bumped into his mother, who laughed and examined the spiky-haired teen in front of her and her son as she put her hands on Ryou's shoulders.

"So, you're Bakura's friend," Michie begun with a smile. "He talks about you, sometimes."

Bending down to scoop up the magazines, Mariku snorted. "That's vaguely creepy," he remarked, straightening up as he shoved the merchandise into its places. "So you're… what, their older sister or something?" He looked the woman up and down, examining her with boredom. He didn't recall his "friend" ever mentioning a sister but he supposed that wasn't too surprising if she was like 10 years their senior.

Ryou chuckled a bit, but the white-haired woman started to laugh heartily. "Oh, well, you sure know how to compliment a woman," she teased. "No, I'm his mother."

"Ah," Mariku replied dismissively as he walked back behind the counter. He didn't say anything further until he caught Ryou's eye and smirked. "So, what're you doing here, creampuff? Not like I mind the company," he joked.

"Oh… just visiting," Ryou replied with a soft shrug and sheepish smile. "Ishtar-san, do—"

The blond cut him off with a grunt, narrowing his eyes at the boy. Moodily, he crossed his arms. "Hey, I told you," he snapped irritably. "Don't call me that. Mariku. Call me by my name, if you're going to attach 'san' to anything, okay? Don't know how many times I gotta tell you that."

Ryou squeaked an apology, looking flustered as he started twirling of strand of his hair. "Ish— Mariku-san," Ryou started again, "you… uh… you work here, as well?"

"That's a stupid question." Mariku glanced down at his uniform. "Do you think I'd ever wear a pink shirt willingly?" He tugged at the front of the collared shirt, scowling down at it. "… Or a name-tag, for that matter," he added dismissively, glancing off to the side before returning his eyes to Ryou.

Malik glared at his brother, muttering a "behave" under his breath as he straightened up the shelves a bit. Michie watched him skeptically for a moment, thinking, before she looked to Mariku and finally spoke back up.

"Mariku, was it? You called once," the woman noted, letting go of Ryou as he wandered over to Malik curiously. While those two chatted, Michie brought her gaze back to the spiky-haired twin. "Your Japanese is improving, although watch some of your words."

"Thanks, but I'll pass on the lecture," Mariku muttered half-enthusiastically, leaning back against the wall. Eyes locking onto Ryou and Malik, he watched the two as they poked through the trinkets.

Malik kept holding up miniature Egyptian God statues, explaining them briefly as Ryou's eyes danced in wonderment, carefully handling ones that caught his eye. He laughed, setting down one of Horus, grinning at Malik who held up Ammut in retort. Michie glanced over, watching them with an affectionate gaze.

Mariku crossed his arms, letting out a sigh before looking to the clock. Malik's shift would be over in about a half-an-hour, which meant Mariku had a good solid hour from that point until he got to go home. If that wasn't annoying, then he wasn't sure what was.

"So, you talk to Ryou as well?"

The mother's voice snapped Mariku from his thoughts. Glancing over, he raised an eyebrow. "Sort of, I guess," the blond muttered with a dismissive shrug. "Not really too much."

"Ah, I see." Michie nodded absently. "I figured you were closer to Bakura. It's your personality, I think." Vaguely, she gestured to him, causing the blond to smirk a bit. The woman laughed, shaking her head. "No offense."

Mariku only shrugged, still smirking as he looked over to Ryou and his brother. "I can't take offense to a true statement. I'm a troublemaker, your eyes say it all." His smirk fell a bit, watching Ryou touch Malik's arm in order to peer around his shoulder. Sneering a bit, he rolled his eyes and turned away from them. What a bother. He glanced over to Michie, who was going through the books, before looking back to his brother. Why was he suddenly so irritated? With no warning, he wanted to just storm out of the room. The wisp of fury came quick but once Malik walked over to him, he felt it dwindle.

"I'm going to go see if I can't get off early, considering I have no more tours anyway," Malik begun as he leaned on the counter. "Was Takanaka working today? I didn't bump into him."

"Not a clue," Mariku replied absently, shrugging. "I want to say he was, but I obviously haven't left this confined jail of overpriced trinkets so I wouldn't know. Hey!" Suddenly, he brightened up, straightening up and getting off the wall. "Speaking of that, you should get me food before you leave," he suggested, holding his hands out and shrugging. "I'm hungry."

Snorting, the younger blond shook his head. "Why? Can't you go and get something quick yourself?"

"Not really," Mariku responded, slouching back down onto the wall bitterly. "If the boss catches me skipping out of the counter again, I'll be fired."

Malik rolled his eyes. "If you do anything, you'll be fired," he retorted. "You never do anything for me, why should I go get you food?"

"… Because I'm your brother and you love me?"

"Debatable."

"The brother part or the love part?"

"Did you seriously just ask me that?" Malik deadpanned, twitching. "We are twins."

"… That does not answer my question," Mariku pointed out.

"Oh for the love of Isis!" Malik threw his hands up. "I will cover for you, just go get your stupid food!" Malik jumped the counter, sliding over easily and landing next to his brother. Mariku mimicked the motion, but landing by the magazine rack instead. "Idiot."

Mariku flashed a grin, combing his hair down, and heading out the door. Truthfully, he was just glad to get out of there. He wasn't actually hungry (although he would go to get food, because who could pass up a second "lunch" break), but if he saw Ryou talk to or touch Malik one more time he might just throw up.

(-)

He had someplace to go after work.

Mariku hadn't told his twin just where it was, but he just hoped the latter wouldn't worry because he tended to. Well, really, it was inevitable— he had at least told the twin he was going out in general. Malik couldn't know what he was doing or where specifically he was going. He couldn't tell Rishid, he couldn't tell Ishizu.

Sometimes, he felt like he could barely tell himself.

Stuffing his hands further into his jacket pocket, Mariku clutched for the envelope in it. Securing it in his grasp, he licked his lips and walked faster down the street. The sun had set and despite his confidence, the teen was starting to get a bit unsettled. The street lights flickered on but despite the coming darkness, the city was still bustling with life. It calmed his nerves to at least see that there were people other than him walking the streets.

As he reached his destination, Mariku couldn't help the unsettled feeling that grew in the pit of his stomach. He glanced around and over his shoulder, making sure no one saw him, before slipping down the ally way. One more glance behind him. No one. Eyes scanned the ally but saw no one.

Breathing a sigh, the teen ran a hand through his bangs. Taking one more look around, he muttered out: "I'm here."

Someone stepped out from the doorway. "Do you have the envelope?"

"I do." Mariku clutched it tighter in his pocket, lips thinning. "With that said, we're still on, I assume."

"Of course." They extended their hand outward, tongue flickering out to move the cigarette in his mouth to the other side. "You trust me still, right?"

Hesitation. Finally, Mariku spoke again. "Yeah. Just don't screw me over." He held the envelope out and the other took it carefully. "Is it enough for now? It's all I got."

"It's fine. I'll get… it to you tomorrow. Hope that's good," came the bored reply as he flipped through the money.

Mariku just smiled wanly, mumbling an "it's fine" before the other left the ally. Hands stuffed back into his pocket, Mariku let out a shaky sigh and licked his lips again. If his family knew was he was doing, he'd be under house arrest for the rest of his life probably— if he was lucky enough not to get killed.

Turning around, he started to walk back towards the house.

Malik would be worried.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

(1) It's supposed to be redundant, haha. Because it's a rumour being spread quickly in the first place, the rumour is in itself the rumour— if that makes any sense. It probably doesn't…

I'm way too tired to deal with this silly after-chapter business! Haha, I've been working on this all day. I'm so distracted… Anyway, Read & Review & Critique please! Thanks for sticking with me, guys. It means a lot~