A/N: Sorry for not updating for so long. Got busy reading fanfics and stuff.
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh does not belong to me, and never will. Has anyone else noticed the freakiness of Yugi's GIGANTIC eyes?
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3.
"Please."
"No."
"Please."
"No."
"Please."
"No."
"Please."
"No."
"Please?"
"For the last time, Marik, we are going STRAIGHT to Ryou's, no stops, just straight to Ryou's."
"But I even said please! You KNOW I never say please!"
"Oh…all right," Malik rolled his eyes. "You're really spoiled, you know."
"I know! Aren't my manipulative powers great?"
"…"
"…And I also have the nicest hikari in the world!" Marik grinned. He always got everything he wanted.
"Well, we have to leave early if we have to go to the store. Why do you need another lighter, anyway?" Malik asked, putting on his favourite leather jacket.
Sadly, the leather jacket didn't have long to live; Malik once killed a guy who had AIDS, and his jacket got splattered with the AIDS guy's blood. And, as everyone knows, if you get AIDS blood, you get infected. Well, Isis said if she saw the bloody jacket one more time, she'd shred it to pieces.
"Didn't I tell you that already?" Marik was back to his bossy, psycho persona. "Nashwa needs a friend." …Or maybe not.
"O…kay…" Malik blinked. Once, twice, thrice! A new record. He got on the motorcycle. "Got all your stuff?"
"Yeah."
"Let's go!"
And Marik had the explicable urge to bang his head against something; stuck with Bakura for the third weekend. Damn.
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Bakura coughed. He was burning up, and his throat was hurting. He couldn't raise his arms.
"Ryou…is that you?" he said feebly when his hikari came into the room. He coughed weakly in his hand, on the verge of death. "Come…closer…"
Ryou inched closer to Bakura, and then slapped him. Immediately, a miracle occurred and Bakura was healed enough to say "OW! What the hell was that for!"
"Stop pretending to be dying!" Ryou said. "Marik's going to come in a couple of hours." Sometimes Ryou thought this plan was more trouble than it was worth.
"No. I can't stand that asshole! Duke is now afraid to come over any weekend. And he lit my tent on fire!" Bakura threw his hands up in exasperation.
Ryou raised an eyebrow. "You have a tent?"
"Had, thanks to the dumbass!" Bakura fumed, all traces of illness lost. Ryou made a funny half sigh, half snort sound.
"Knives."
"Fine, but I'm calling Duke. Ra, I hate that motherfucking Marik."
A couple of hours later, a knock came on the door. Bakura scowled at the prospect of spending another 48 hours with He-Who-Is-Too-Unimportant-To-Be-Named, Hwitutbn for short.
He heard Ryou open the door and greet them. He heard Marik's voice, but it was somewhat more…bouncy?…than he had ever heard it. "What the hell?" he muttered.
He got his answer soon, as Marik came literally bouncing in the room. He raised an eyebrow.
"The hell, Hwitutbn?" He said. Marik blinked at the Hwitutbn comment, but then bounced on.
"I have a new lighter," he sung out, shoving the lighter into Bakura's face. Bakura had a horrible flashback of the tent burning down. "His name is Nebtawi, and he kicks ass!"
Bakura just stared. Since when had Marik become so…childish?
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"What's the emergency?" Duke said, glaring at Bakura. Bakura could understand. They were in the park, swinging on the swings. Marik was currently running around, scaring children and making mothers look at him with horror.
"He tries to talk me into playing dress-up!" Bakura said indignantly. Duke snorted, imagining Bakura in a sparkly pink dress and high heels. Bakura glared. "What?!?!?!"
"Erm…Nothing…"Duke sweatdropped. At least he wasn't glaring anymore. They watched in silence as Marik tried to set a tree on fire. Luckily for the tree, though, a policeman was just walking by.
They watched as the policeman came running up and flashed his badge at Marik. "He's busted now," commented Bakura. But…
Marik leaned closer to the policeman. His eyes looked wide and frightened. He looked innocent, getting closer and closer to the policeman. The policeman look as though he was in a trance, when suddenly- "ouch!" and the policeman was lying on the ground, unconscious, with a head wound bleeding on to Marik's clothes.
"No way," Duke shook his head. "Did he just kill that policeman?"
"I don't believe it," Bakura said, his face darkening. "He's always flirting with everyone!"
Duke stared. Was Bakura jealous?
"I think you really sorta like him, 'fess up," he said.
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do. Marik and Bakura, sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
"Shut up."
"Who's K-I-S-S-I-N-G?" Marik came up to them. He was grinning, and in an obviously good mood. He kept talking without waiting for the answer. "So, anyone up for a duel?"
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"Fuck," Bakura swore under his breath, watching sadly as his last life points disappeared. Marik was smirking victoriously.
"I'd like him better if he'd lose at cards," he told Duke, who was watching the game nearby.
"You suck," Marik said, his voice a mixture of disgust and awe. "I mean, you really suck. I've never met someone who sucks as much at you."
"Shut up."
"Seriously. I don't know how the hell you're still alive, you suck so much."
"Shut up."
"Dicey too. I've won against him seven times, and I've won against you ten times. And I wasn't even paying attention. Seriously, you suck."
"That's it, we're having a rematch."
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"Do you know what this card means?"
"….."
"This little card here? Do you know what it means?"
"…Yes."
"I think I've won again," Marik said superiorly. He sat down on a park bench and grinned the grin of a cat who just ate a particularly juicy rat.
Bakura glared. "Every time he's won!" he told Duke. "He's fucking cheating, I'm sure of it!"
"So get a rematch."
"Yo, ass-hole, we're playing again!" Bakura yelled at Marik. Marik grinned again and jumped up.
"Awesome! I love kicking your ass!" He got out his deck of cards again, and muttered to himself, "This is my idea-"
"This isn't my idea-"Bakura said to Duke, who was falling asleep.
"Of fun."
(Even though Bakura would never, ever, ever admit it to anyone, least of all himself, he did, sort of, not really, have fun with Marik)
