Two days later, the food was still not all gone. They were both absolutely stuffed, after twenty minutes of constant cake devouring, well, constant for Bakura, Mao had eaten more slowly and carefully, and was trying to avoid getting the carpet too covered in crumbs, not that Bakura had made that easy for her. Feeling so sick they couldn't even face considering eating more cake, letting alone actually doing it, they had hidden the rest for the next night, when Bakura had claimed the he couldn't be bothered with having anymore and that they should put it off another night, Mao didn't complain, having never actually wanted to eat any of the food the white haired boy had forced her to buy. And though she worried that it might start going mouldy if they left it any longer, she was eager to avoid having any more.
Cornflake's orange tail swished across the wooden floor as he followed Mao in her march towards the bedroom door. She pushed the door open and leapt at Bakura before he could notice what was happening and attacked his pale face with the damp cloth she was holding. He spluttered and wriggled away from her, glaring confusedly.
"What the hell are doing?!" he shouted, pushing her away with his right and as she tried to approach him a second time.
"Cleaning your face!" She yelled back, laughing at his expression and attempting to reach his face with the cloth. "Because I'm sick of seeing that huge smudge of chocolate that's been on your cheek for two whole days!" She managed to knock his arm away and knock him to the floor, wiping off the chocolate with a look of triumph on her now slightly red face. But it was soon replaced by shock when she fell to the floor underneath the weight of angry, pale skinned boy now sitting on top of her, glaring at her, he did not like being pushed over, especially by someone who was much weaker than he was.
But she wasn't thinking about the fact she was being crushed, because as she looked up at him she saw something strange in his beautiful, rust coloured eyes, the same as she had the other day, like shadows were moving around inside the pitch black pupils, like something was inside them…
Something cold and white fell on her face, covering her eyes, she gasped and pulled it off, recognising the cloth she had just used to clean the chocolate off Bakura, who was still sitting on top of her, his thin arms folded across his chest. Though he was not going to admit it, something in the way she had stared at him in those few quick seconds had unnerved him, which was why he had covered her eyes with the cloth.
"Right." He said, his voice sounding slightly threatening, despite the fact he was not really being serious. "If you swear not to do that ever again, you can get up, if you do not, you shall be sat on for all eternity."
Nodding quickly, Mao agreed to never try and remove chocolate from his face ever again, and was allowed to stand up again.
"We should be quieter though." she warned him. "Um, my mum might hear and come and investigate."
Bakura sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't understand why you make such a fuss, I mean come on, she must be some sort of deaf old woman, she hasn't heard us at all since I managed to somehow end up in you garden a few days ago." He said, showing no concern about whether or not Mao would appreciate her mother being called a deaf old woman. "Any way" he continued. "Why is it always her you worry about, I mean, do you not have a father?"
"I do, um, he's in hospital at the moment." She replied, fiddling with the furry blue tip in one he ears. "He's broken his leg."
"Oh." He replied, not bothering to ask when her father would return or how he had got injured in the first place. Then another question occurred to him. "Where was he from? Your skin looks darker than most peoples."
"So? Yours looks very light, and you have white hair." Mao answered, hoping she didn't sound rude. "My father is from here; well, not from here exactly, but from Japan. But my mother was born in Egypt, which is why I look like this. But we decided to live here, though we still go to Egypt for holidays and all that." She looked up at Bakura and blushed slightly, she hadn't realised how much she'd been talking, he's only asked where her father came from.
"Egypt?" He asked, not looking bothered by how much she talked, to Mao's surprise, he even looked quite interested. "Hmmm, that's…strange…" he said quietly, not realising Mao was listening and would be confused by this.
"Um strange?" she asked, scratching her ear. "I don't understand how it could be strange…"
"Hm? Well, it's strange to me." He replied, looking slightly embarrassed and looking around the room, though he didn't really have a reason for doing it.
"Oh, um, can I ask why?" she said, walking over across and picking up something that had been hanging on that bedpost before returning to where she had previously been sat. It looked like some sort of strange instrument and she rattled it in her gloved hands as she waited for Bakura's response.
"Well, you can ask, but you won't get an answer." He said when she sat down, watching the strange instrument she was holding. It was made from metal, and looked like some kind of rattle, with a long handle, and at the end of it a U-shaped frame, with three long thin pieces of metal sticking through it, they were about three time the width of the arch shape, and ended quite a long way from the frame in hooks. Inside of the frame the cross-bars had small hoops and rings hanging from them, which made a quiet tinkling sound as Mao rattled the instrument absentmindedly as she answered.
"Well, okay then." She frowned slightly; she really didn't understand why Bakura found the fact that her mother was Egyptian strange.
"What is that anyway?" he asked, still watching the rattle.
"Oh." Mao said loudly, she hadn't realised that she should have explained about it. "It's a sistrum." She explained hurriedly. "It's a kind rattle, that um, mostly is associated with Egypt and stuff, I saw it in a shop when we went on holiday there when I was about 5, well um, not about, it was my birthday so I was exactly 5, that's why we went there in October instead of summer, because my birthday is on the 31st. For some reason I'd really like it, so my mum got me it as a birthday present and when you asked me about where my dad came from it reminded me about it so I got it and…um….err…." She blushed again, her face going very red; she'd started ranting again when she had been asked a simple question. "Um, sorry."
"Okay then." Said Bakura, having not been too bothered by the amount she had talked, as he had just seen something carved into sistrums handle. "Pass me it."
Mao did as he said and he looked closely at the handle. There were three symbols carved into it, hieroglyphs. The first looked similar to a candle; a vase shape with a line across it, near to the top, on top of it was a small half circle, with two small diagonal lines going up from each side of it. The second was the top half of a circle, and the third was what looked like a woman kneeling down, facing left.
He was unable to understand what it said, but he still stared at the symbols for a second before returning the instrument to Mao, whose green eyes were filled with confusion as she took it back, she couldn't understand what was wrong with the white haired boy sitting on the carpet next to her, he was acting different to usual, more serious.
But it didn't take long for him to return to his normal mood. Raising his head to look at Mao, he grinned and pulled on the end of Mao's ear, unsurprised when he felt that it was growing out of her head.
"Wait, what are you doing?!" She asked, going red and struggling away, but Bakura just reached over to her and carried on doing it.
"Seeing if you if you'll start pulling the other one when this makes you nervous." He replied casually, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to do.
"Hey!" Mao shouted, blushing even more, and only just managing to stop herself doing what Bakura had predicted, but he noticed the way her hand had moved and started laughing.
Letting go of her ear, he stood up and walked back over to where the still quite large pile of cakes and sweets had been hidden.
"Well come on!" He shouted impatiently back at Mao. "We've still got all this to finish!"
Groaning loudly, she walked over to where he was sat down next to him, hoping that she wouldn't feel too sick.