title: Pandora's Box; Small, Black and Simple.
pairing: Anzu x Yami Bakura
summary: Peoples greatest faults where the ones they thought they were safe to expose. This was just the beginning.
rating: M
notes: I wrote this as a present as a friend, Kelpy. Her request of was "Pandora's Box" .
standard disclaimer applies

-

Small, black and simple, it screamed at him. Told him everything he needed to know, so totally innocent. Black was the colour of chaos, but chaos itself was innocent in its purposes, it was only because people used it for dark purpose that it became a source of evil. Fair enough, chaos had been used for evil, but that's simply because it wanted to have what it wanted before everything, to be everything, cover everything.

But it was not to be. Chaos wasn't allowed it to be as free as it wanted. He shook his hair angrily. All these in-depth thoughts were merely evasions to the reality of the little black book sitting in front of him. He hadn't meant to find it; verily he had just seen Mazaki writing in it. Innocently biting the tip of her pen, then after carefully checking that no one was looking, scribbled down things within its black bound pages. By the way she wrote he could tell it wasn't a work book. The place she had chosen to work in had revealed her activities. It was the Library, every other student had books apart from there note book sprawled out around them. History, Math, Science. Whatever they were working on, it was about them, giving a hint. But she had a desk to herself, little black book directly under her hands, the size of a folded A4 page and that was it. Tiny really, but yet as he stared at it, he knew it was not size that mattered. Secretly he hopped it was that thing he heard females in this time were prone to keeping, he hoped it was a diary.

He thought vaguely of everything else that he had seen, or heard of, that could be as dangerous as Anzu Mazaki's personal thoughts. He grinned, the chest of the millennium items, not small certainly, but powerful undoubtedly. Mythical… he decided, it was mythical, like the Pandora's Box. Perhaps this would be the Pandora Box of Anzu, perhaps he would see all her inner demons, but shut the lid before that ever persistent, ever annoying, hope, appeared. Rubbing his forefingers against his thumb in a bid to calm his apprehensive but quick mind, his hand hovered of the black book he had picked up that she, twit of a girl, had dropped. Grasping the cover, he flicked the first page and was dismayed. Instead of straight words, there were symbols, lines and lines of symbols, mixed intermittently with some words that hinted at different things. There only words that made sense was the title which made him groan at his own stupidity.

'Dance Routines'

It would make sense that she would find a way of ordering something as free as dance into something as complicated as these symbols.

The format was quiet simple. It would display what he presumed was the song title and artist, followed by the code of moves.

Into The Night – Santana feat. Chad Kroeger.

Triangle. Circle. Inverted triangle. Double spin. Star…

And so on, lines just going of the stuff, he flicked through the pages, only a few were filled, but enough to show she had been working in it for awhile. Absently he read through the list of songs, fair enough he had no idea what the songs would sound like, but perhaps the titles… He wasn't an idiot, he could find out all sorts of things from just music that a person in question listened to. Music was far more diverse in this day and age, you could divulge a lot from just simple things like titles.

Walkie Talkie Man – Steriogram (What the hell was that kind of song...?)

Shut Me Up – Mindless Self Indulgence (Hmmm. Interesting band…)

Ooh La La – Goldfrapp (Now what in the world was that?)

Lips Like Morphine – Kill Hannah (Did she have them, or did she need them?)

Holding Out For A Hero – Jennifer Saunders (Well, he already knew she was desperate…)

Egyptian Lover – It's Automatic (Now that was just too good…)

Feel Good Inc. – Gorillaz (that sounded possibly like something)

E Luxo So – Rossa Passos (Well, no hope of knowing that song…)

Why Do You Love Me? – Garbage (Even more interesting…)

The Night That Never End – The Cat Empire (Hmmmm. What could she mean by that song?)

He scanned through the list, writing down songs that sounded interesting, something that would give him an insight to her mind and perhaps somehow, somehow, he could use against her. Perhaps if he could find a way of exposing some darker side of her… he had tried the others, but they were men, she was a woman, all the more complicated for her gender and because of those complications, even more vulnerable. The things he could do with her, to her, imply about her, with just the right piece of information.

But even fools had to start somewhere, and this was somewhere. And in the modern world where personal taste was common, he could find out a lot. Peoples greatest faults where the ones they thought they were safe to expose. This was just the beginning.

Pocketing the paper he had written down the songs on, he rose up off to find out from his lighter half how the 'internet' worked.

--

Anzu was almost afraid when she realized that her black book of choreography was gone. It was her private book that she wrote down only her best ideas down in. She looked through her bag, all around the house, thinking maybe she had left it somewhere, dreading if one of her brothers found it. It was no where at all and just when she about to really freak out, she heard a knock out the door. It was insistent, so coming out of her fit she went to the door, opened it, there was no one around, no matter how hard she stared into the darkness. About to give up, she looked at her feet, and there on the welcome mat was her book, untouched and highlighted in false shine in the moonlight with a strip of white.

Sighing with relief and wondering if who had left it was still around, Anzu called out. "Thank-you! …whoever you are…"

She closed the door and held it close. Thanking whatever gods (because she had become quiet ambiguous with them) for its return. Flicking through the pages she stopped on one that had rather messily a messaged scrawled diagonally across it.

'All debts have to be repaid at some point. From an anonymous friend'

--

'Don't thank me yet… you have nothing to thankful for, nothing at all.'

--

He sat at his lighter half's desk pouring over a website known as YouTube. It was some sort of obscure blessing, even if he did have to ask for help to find out about it. Thank the gods Ryou was not a stupid boy that asked questions.

So he plowed through the song lists, waiting to find out what each song would give away something darker away from Anzu Mazaki's perfect demeanor. A few had been promising, but now he reached the last song on the list and smiled, this was the one that showed the most promise.

Then he reached the last song. A malicious grin spread over his face.

It was perfect.

--

Anzu retied her hair and looked around the empty studio. The bar stretched against the mirror, and her singular reflection in all those mirrors. She felt so alone.

And it felt so good.

Setting down her CD player she put on her song, her black book next to it. To the first song, she began to stretch her body twisting and turning as she leaped around the area. There was no difference to her or the music, she moved as it did.

She lost herself to it.

When it stopped, she was panting a little, a soft sheen of sweet over her face. Bits of her hair hung loose, but she didn't care. Instead she flicked the 'next' button of times, listening for a certain song, whilst checking her little black book to refresh the different moves. The song she chose was repetitive in its beat but leant itself so well to what she had in mind. She began to move, demonic like the song gave the air of. Like something was gripping her at strings and manipulating her.

Eventually that song ended, she stopped in a pose, breathing heavily. It was a fast dance; she could feel the air-con hitting the back of her neck. But that wasn't that made her hair's stand on end.

It was the clapping.

With her eyes closed she couldn't see who it was, but was afraid to. She felt her breath settle down a bit more then dropped her arms and turned back around. Smirking, hand in a pocket, leaning against the wall was Yami no Bakura. It was mid morning and the light was bright, cutting clean rectangular shapes onto the ground. He was between two cuts of light, like he always had been.

"What a skilled dancer you are, Mazaki" he said, it was impossible to tell if he was mocking her or not. Her early analysis of Duel Monsters had brought her to believe that it was one part luck, two parts tactics and one part acting. Bakura was good at all of them. Acting was probably the best for him. How many times had she watched him trick Yuugi and Yami no Yuugi?

"You… you aren't normal Bakura, are you?"

"No, I suppose you could say that I am not."

"What do you want, here, with me?"

He walked out into the light, she could see him clearly now. He was smirking. "You aren't as nice, I believe, as you want everyone to think. Well, maybe you are nice, but you aren't as innocent."

"Wha – What do you mean?" she clenched her hands and swallowed the block in her throat.

"This." He walked to the CD player, but did not touch it, picking up the black book that lay quietly beside it. He held it at his eye level. "Such interesting things you dance to, Mazaki. Care to show me one… I think I deserve it to you, after all, I did return it."

"It was you?" her brow furrowed and she stared with bewilderment in her mind. Him? How could it be him?

"Yes it was me… and I left you a note, remember?"

"… 'All debts have to be repaid at some point'…" she muttered.

"Very good." He talked down to her, as if she was a child. "Well Mazaki, 'some point' is now."

"I don't have to – " she began.

"What? Aren't you a good person, a nice person? All I want is to watch you dance… to a song I choose. Isn't that what will happen in the real world?"

"Ah, I, well, no – "

"You know it will. It is real world training. But apart from that, don't you just want to be nice? Isn't that what you are known for?" His voice sounded so sickly sweet she wanted to run away. It was scary.

"Yes, but I don't have to be nice to a person that tried to kill my friends, or send them to the shadow realm."

"Touché, but isn't that the point of being on the 'good' side, you always try to forgive and forget?"

"Yes, but only if there is hope of reform, and in ways that might do some good, this does nothing except let you watch me dance, and I know there is no hope for you, your soul is as black as the shadows from which you say you were born."

"Why don't you just try, you always try Mazaki."

"Ah – "

"Do it."

She had no idea why she agreed, maybe because she knew he was right, and she didn't want under any circumstance show herself as not willing to try and help someone, even though this seemed the most obscure way of doing it. She sighed wearily and told him to pick song, all of the songs in the book were on the CD she had put on, in order.

Taking her position in the middle of the dance area, she waited for the beginning of the song and flushed darkly when she heard the opening beat, knowing the song immediately. Her dance was a mix of Hip-hop and vulgar dance moves she had gotten of video clips on TV. In the nicest term it was… provocative… at least if you were a man, or attracted to women. Once she started moving she couldn't see Bakura's face anymore. It was all about the dance, how her body flowed to the sound. She was an extension of the music, not just dancing to it.

Bakura watched her and was surprised at the lust she stirred within him. Her moves… she ran a hand up her leg, slid her palm across her chest, the way her shoulders and hips would roll together as they dipped to one side or another. He groaned as she slid onto her knees and did a strange movement that was like exaggerated breathing. Her hand and upper body moving in unison as she 'breathed' into time with beat.

The chorus was a bit faster and she moved accordingly, her actions more attention grabbing. Not that they weren't already. For 4 minutes and 4 seconds Bakura watched her move like she was part of the music… and what delightful music it was. He laughed to himself in his head. He definitely liked modern music.

The song ended and she stayed in her pose, breathing deeper and drawn into her like it was the only thing that mattered. The silence reigned heavy. The next so began to play, more fiery than the one that had just been playing. Anzu broke her pose and dropped her arms lightly.

"Once again, you are good, Mazaki. Not as good as you could be." He put his hand in his pocket again and walked closer, so they were a meter or so apart.

"Pray tell, in your extensive experience, what is wrong with the moves?"

"Nothing wrong with them, in fact as a man, I quiet like them." He smirked and Anzu looked at the floor, gathered herself and looked back up. "But you don't lend yourself to them properly."

"What do you mean?"

"You move like you don't know what sex is. And that song is all about sex."

"Well obviously I don't know about sex. I haven't had it have I?" she snapped. Crossing her arms and took a firmer stance, leaning to the side, completely on defense.

"I guessed as much." He came closer, much closer. Too close for Anzu.

"What are you doing?" she tried to sound angry, and mostly it worked, but she didn't like how her voice trembled at the end of her words.

"Showing you." He grabbed her waist and pulled her close. So that there hips touched. She tried to push him away, but his fingers dug into her side, painful and unbreakable, so she stopped.

"That is where you need to move from, for everything." He muttered close to ear.

She blinked then turned cynical. "How the hell do you know this?"

"Egypt was much looser with its women, not like the Greeks which have since lent its views to the modern world, the best dancers came from Egypt. I knew a fair few of them. They taught me many things."

"… man-whore…" she muttered. He laughed then moved suddenly, turning her firm stance against her and put his leg between hers, twisting her pose and his so that they were tilted, but far, far closer than before. He took his hand from her waist to her forearms and pulled her upper body just as close as her lower body.

"I can understand that." He slid one hand from her forearm to her back. "Now fall back, I'll hold you." She did so, and for her own sake, she tried to do it slowly, but he slid his hand faster to just at her waist and as she putting so much weight with him, she fell faster. The effect was instant, her hips moved lower, but more firmly against him. With out asking he pulled her straight back up again, when she reached him, he was so closer, there noses were almost touchy.

Anzu's breath became shaky at his proximity. But it was not her breath that she was concentrating on, but his, hot against cheek. Looking at her stunned expression, he dipped his head to the side of her mouth and kissed it very gently, more tender than she thought was possible of him. From there he moved across and down, till he was just under her ear, so much easier to reach because she had obligingly tilted her head up. It was done without much thought on her part, mainly because the music that was still playing was messing with her head, and though she had had boyfriends before, never one as skilled as this.

"B-Baku-mmmm – ah!" She had felt his teeth graze over her skin. She kept leaning back in his grasp as he went further down. He was at the hollow of her neck now. His teeth bear once more, biting slightly. Her knees were giving out, he seemed to realize that… and she would never figure out how he did it… but they ended up on the floor, him between her legs, kissing her, properly, his mouth doing what he done before, only now she could react to him, her knees rose up, pressing her hips once more close to his, her hands gripping his shoulders, refusing to let him go.

A lot of things happened in that time, it was lucky they weren't discovered, but then, the music covered any sound… and it was six o'clock in the morning. Not many people were around to catch them, and neither of them said a single word that could break the spell to which that had fallen pray.

Somehow there clothes ended up in scattered around them, and he was inside of her, showing what the greatest dance of all humankind. She made no loud noise, just a small hitched sound that was so quiet against the raging music. He was just as quiet. There was no need for screams and loud moans. She closed her eyes, one arm dropping from his broad shoulders. Following it, her head turned to the side; he kissed down the side of her neck, biting at her skin as seemed to be his way. Hazily she opened her eyes and saw the mirrors, more what was in the mirrors. Them. The morning light cast a gold aurora on everything. He was above her, his back proud and strong, like that of a bull or a horse. His white mane of hair about his head, a curtain hiding his face… his skin like Ryou's, white but glowing the morning light… She below him, one leg hooked around his, the other was bent up, holding him tighter to her as the moved together, her skin was darker than his but it still glowed in the light. He came deeper into her than before and her vision was torn as her head rolled back, raising her body up to him, as though a sacrifice.

When it was done she sat up, sore as he was her first, her muscles tender. She looked down her at her bare stomach, gold in the light, glinting with sweat. Rising slowly she gathered her clothes and pulled them back on, as Yami no Bakura had. Once they were both dressed, Anzu sprayed the room in deodorant, covering the smell. Coughing slightly from the chemicals, she regarded the man of the shadows that was standing watching her in equal measure.

"I knew there some part of you that was not as innocent as you made it out to be, and now I have it." He said into the silence.

"What do you mean?"

"I used you, Anzu Mazaki. I found out that you are just as corruptible as the rest of us."

"What- I don't understand…"

"You gave into me, Anzu Mazaki, me that which you and your friends despised. You slept with me, your closest friend's greatest enemy."

"You… you tricked me!"

"Yes I did," he laughed. Loud and dark, it crawled up her skin and settled around her neck where she could still feel his kisses. "You have had my skin on you, all of you. Let me hold you; let me touch in the most intimate way. I have seen every part of you. You are tainted now. How will you ever live with yourself?"

"Oh- oh, god." She began to sob and fell down, the deodorant can falling out of her hand with a clatter and rolled away from her. "But no one knows it but us… no one…" she looked up to find him staring down at her. Not a hair out of place, his clothes looked fine, whilst she was a mess. He leant over, cupping her face and kissed her once more, not at all surprised that she let him. She brought her hands up to shoulders, holding him tightly, raising her upper body to him.

"Not yet, but they will, they will. Give me time." He pulled away, slipping out of Anzu's grasp. She held her self in the air for a moment, half way between standing, but as his heat faded she crumpled down again.

As Yami no Bakura walked out, he stopped and picked up the little black book, skimming through its pages. Small, black and simple, it caught his attention as it first had. It was not a diary as he had hoped, but something much more powerful. A Pandora's Box to Anzu Mazaki. But he had shut it before hope had escaped. He tossed it back behind him, not caring where it landed and kept walking.

--

after..day