(A/N:) AND NOW THE PLOT WILL START FLOWERING. SORT OF. MAYBE MORE LIKE BUDDING. PLANTING A SEED? LULZIES.

WHY AM I WRITING IN CAPS.

Err. Just read.

Warnings:Uhh...nothing really bad this chapter. A few swear words here and there, but...nothing really bad.

"So I have a theory," Malik says to me.

"Hm?" I look up from my lunch.

He's sitting across from me. We're sitting at the picnic table conveniently placed under a large oak tree, giving us some nice shade. We normally eat here for lunch breaks, since it was where we sat the first time we had lunch together three days ago. Which brings up another convenience: our schedules are pretty similar in terms of times.

Malik continues, "Well, more like a hunch, actually...," he taps his chin in thought.

"Aren't they the same thing?" I say after swallowing the noodles I'm eating. I had bought cheap Chinese take-out from the food court.

"Hush," Malik says, putting a finger out to me. He continues his musing until he finally looks me in the eye again. He leans forward in his seat like he always does when he's about to talk. "So I have this hunch that the English professor is a pedophile."

I cough and nearly choke on my food. I take a large drink from my water bottle, trying to recover.

Malik goes on, not noticing my suffering, "I mean, he just seems like one, don't 'cha think? But if he isn't then he's definitely a creeper. Either way he's creepy."

I clear my throat one last time before speaking. "C-can we talk about something else? You always bring up the weirdest things..." I think back to Malik's one-sided conversation on narwhals being underwater unicorns.

"Sure," Malik says eagerly. "Do you ever wonder why some animals have more baby animals than others?"

"MALIK!"

"What?"

"What did I say about weird subjects? !"

"It's not weird, it's nature."

I sigh in disbelief. "Just eat your salad."

Malik shrugs and takes a couple bites of the salad. "This isn't even fresh salad. How disgusting," he pouts.

I raise an eyebrow. "Then why are you still eating it?"

"Because I'm hungry and I don't want to waste it." He has a point.

"You want some of my noodles?" I offer the box, showing him the inside contents.

He makes a quick glance inside. "No thank you, I'm a vegetarian."

I make a puzzled expression. "But there's no meat."

"Yes there is." He points it out.

I look at where he's pointing. "Huh. Weird. You can just eat the noodles, though."

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Alright," I shrug.

Malik glances at his watch. "Shit. I have to get to social sciences building." He gets up and grabs his new satchel bag, slinging it on his shoulder. According to him, he had bought it yesterday and given his old messenger bag away because he apparently didn't like the style of it. "I'll see you in English, 'kay? We can make plans for later today." He discards the salad in a nearby trash can.

I nod, with food still in my mouth.

Malik waves and blows a playful kiss in my direction. "Ciao, Ryo-lovely."

I roll my eyes at the nickname. "See you, Malik."

I have about a 45-minute break before my next class, so I decide to stop by the library.

I skim through the biography section, trying to find a book on Pablo Picasso for art class. We're supposed to analyze a piece of an artist's work, write a report on the significance of it, why we think the artist created the work based on what we've read about them, why we chose the particular piece, blah blah blah...I figured choosing an artist that would allow me to think outside the box a little in the analysis would make my life easier.

I finally find a book that seems like it will help me well enough, and close it after skimming through it. I grab another book on Monet in case Picasso turns out to be too complicated for me to figure out for whatever reason. I turn to leave and check out the books, but accidentally bump into someone. Both our books drop to the floor.

I blush in embarrassment and quickly kneel down to help pick up the books. "E-excuse me, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking—"

"No, no, it was my fault," the other person says. I pick up their books and hand them to them, and they do the same. I see their face for the first time.

I freeze.

The person is a guy, and the first thing I notice is his spiked blonde hair going in several different directions. I then notice that he has dark, lavender eyes and tanned skin. He's wearing a black collar shirt and jeans, but I don't care about his clothes at the moment. What's really catching my attention and bugging me at the same time is the fact that he looks a lot like—

"Uh, here're your books..." I'm snapped out of my thoughts by him speaking.

"Oh, uh, thank you," I say, and we exchange the books in our hands.

"Well, uh...see ya," he mutters the last part and walks quickly past me.

I blush. Had I been staring at him too long that I made it awkward? I didn't mean to...Oh well, I think to myself. I head to the register to check out my books.

I walk into the art classroom later that day. Art is my last class. I sit on the stool, and set my knapsack on the table. I rest my head on it for a moment.

I couldn't stop thinking about that guy during my last class. It was bugging me and poking at my brain constantly—the simple fact that he looked a lot like—

"May I sit here?" I'm once again snapped out of my thoughts by a familiar voice. I look up to see him standing there, gesturing towards the stool next to me.

I blink, dumbstruck for a moment. "Uh...yeah, sure..."

He smiles and takes the seat, putting his messenger bag on the table. I try not to gape at the fact that it looks a lot like—

"You're that guy I ran into at the library earlier, right?" I blink and look at the spiky-haired man.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I am...," I say, regaining a bit of composure.

He smiles again. "I'm sorry for not introducing myself—I was in a hurry." He puts out his hand. "I'm Marik. Marik Ishtar."

I'm about to shake hands with him until time seems to freeze at that moment. Marik Ishtar? That sounds a lot like...

Three coincidences too many.

He looks like Malik, his messenger bag is the same as Malik's old one, his name—

I shake hands with him before he finds my moment's pause odd. "I'm Ryo Bakura."

"Nice to meet you, Ryo," he says.

I nod. "So...have you always been in this class? I don't think I've ever seen you..."

His smile widens the slightest bit. "Then I guess you haven't been looking."

I make a small chuckle. "Yeah, I guess..."

I'm about to question if he has any relation with Malik, but the professor walks in and begins speaking before I can say anything else.

I decide to keep the question on hold for Malik instead.

During the last ten minutes of class, we're given a bit of free time to work on our reports.

"Which artist are you doing yours on?" I turn to my right, and see Marik looking directly me.

I'm caught off guard for a moment, "Oh, uh, Picasso."

"Interesting," he nods. He actually doesn't seem a lot like Malik. Maybe they're not related, and it's an enormous coincidence...

"Y-yeah, I guess," I shrug. "So, uh...who are you doing yours on?"

"Mm, I'm still deciding," he says. He pauses for a few moments, then says, "This project is a little odd, don't you think?"

I blink. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...This is art, not art history." He shrugs. "I don't know, I just find it weird."

"Well...," I start, "I guess it's just a way of showing us the significance of art and how it is expressed by different artists." I pause. "And maybe it helps us appreciate art a little more, and helps us become a little inspired for future works." I stop, and stare at Marik's blank expression. I become a little uneasy and say, "O-or something like that. I don't know."

He blinks and says, "That's pretty good. Make sure to put that in your report somewhere."

I feel a bit of heat rise in my cheeks. "Thanks, uh...I'll try to."

He notices my embarrassment and smiles. He takes a glance at his watch, and as he does, the other students are starting to leave. "Well, I gotta get going," he stands up and takes his messenger bag with him. "I'll see you...tomorrow?" he says, as if he's unsure of whether I come to school every day or not.

I give a small smile. "Yeah, I'll see you."

He nods and waves, leaving the classroom. I remain in my seat, staring blankly at the door where he had just left.

"...Holy shit."

I'm sitting on the couch watching TV, when my cell phone vibrates, indicating I have a new text message. It's from Malik.

I read the message:

Get your ass down here.

I roll my eyes and get up to start grabbing my stuff. "'Kura, I'm going out," I shout as I grab my jacket.

Bakura stumbles out of his room. "Where to?"

"I'm going out with a friend—"

"Woah, wait, what?" Bakura exclaims.

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm going out with a frie—"

"No, I heard what you said," he interrupts. "But...You have friends now?"

I glare at him. "Very funny."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he waves it off. "So, who is it?"

I make a look of disbelief. "I already told you about him two days ago."

"Oh, the homo?"

"BAKURA!"

He shrugs. "Yeah, I vaguely remember him."

I scoff. "'Vaguely'...," I mutter. You snapped when you found out about him flirting with Akefia..."I'll be back later. I don't know if I'll be home for dinner or not, so just heat up leftovers if you get hungry."

"'Kay," Bakura says, following me to the door.

I walk out the door, waving good-bye.

Bakura waves back from the doorway. "Bye sweetie, use protection!" he says in a higher-pitched voice.

"BAKURA!"

I hear him snickering.

I step out of the elevator and see Malik standing there a couple feet away, his arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. He's changed his outfit, and it's less casual than the one he was wearing earlier today.

He peers over his sunglasses at me. "Took you long enough," he says, sounding annoyed.

"Sorry," I mutter. "My roommate's weird."

He chuckles and grabs me by the arm. "Let's go, Ryo."

"Gah!" I'm dragged by him, and we head to his car. I'm somehow not surprised as we're walking towards a silver Lexus convertible, and it beeps indicating the doors being unlocked.

"Uh...nice," I say. I step into the passenger's seat and shut the door.

"Thank you," Malik responds. He fastens his seatbelt and starts the car.

We've stopped at café that serves crêpes. I had told Malik earlier when we were making plans that I have never tried them, so he insisted on coming here.

Malik sips at his iced tea. His sunglasses rest next to his glass that is already in the middle of condensation.

"So, what's your roommate like?" Malik leans forward a little in his seat.

"He's my cousin," I say, taking a small sip of my iced coffee.

Malik suddenly retreats back. "Wait, is this the same cousin dating...?"

I simply nod.

I catch a glimpse of Malik's reddening face before he puts his head in his hands. "Well, this is embarrassing...," he mumbles.

I laugh a little. "Relax, it's not a big deal."

He sighs and looks at me again. "Sorry."

"It's alright." I pause, then continue on my description of Bakura. "He's...bipolar sometimes. He'll be in a good mood one moment then get all pissy the next." I pause again, then say, "He's pretty unhelpful when it comes to cleaning up and cooking and stuff, but I guess I'm used to doing it myself," I shrug.

"Damn," Malik says, sighing. "I don't think I'd be able to deal with that." He smiles at me. "I'm amazed with your tolerance."

I chuckle. "So, uh, Malik...do you share an apartment too?"

His rather content expression turns emotionless. "Uh...Not really. I...still live at my house."

"Really? That's nice," I smile. "You still live close to your family, and all...," I feel a bit of nostalgia.

Malik mumbles something incomprehensible, and toys with the straw of his drink.

"Hmm?" I lean forward a little.

"Nothing," he mumbles. "I was just saying...I don't really live with my family..."

I make a look of confusion. "You...?"

He says nothing, his eyes resting on his iced tea. I stay silent for a couple moments. Malik remains silent as well, and I figure now would be a good time to change the subject.

And to ask the question I've been putting on hold.

"Uh, hey, Malik?"

"Mm?" his gaze doesn't lift. He continues to toy with the straw.

"Well, uh...do you live alone?"

He stops his movements and looks up at me. His eyes are expressionless, and he finally says, "Not necessarily."

I purse my lips. "Err...Do you mind if I ask..."

"Ask what?" he seems a little curious.

"Well, uh," I don't understand why I'm nervous about asking this. "Is there any possibility that you have any...relation to a...Marik Ishtar...?" I pause, staring at him cautiously. Malik seems to tense up, and his eyes seem to narrow the slightest bit. He says nothing.

I become uneasy. "It's just that, uh, I kinda ran into him today and we introduced ourselves and stuff...And...I just couldn't help but notice that he kinda sorta...looks like you." I stop, waiting for a reaction. Malik still remains unmoving. I clear my throat, "I-It just seemed weird, like...His hair was different, but his face overall and especially his name..."

Malik still remains expressionless. He stares at me for the longest time, and I feel myself tense under his gaze. I flinch when Malik pushes himself up, using the table as leverage. He leans forward, and I feel his eyes boring through mine. I blush a little, knowing a few people are most likely giving us some odd stares.

He inhales deeply before speaking, as if trying to contain himself, "Yes…I do have some sort of relation with Marik Ishtar," he says candidly. I inwardly sigh of a bit of relief. I was worried that I had made a huge mistake and insulted Malik in some way. He continues, "And if you want to be specific, he's my brother. And yes, he's my older brother, and yes, I do live with him, and yes, I do dislike him with a burning passion."

I blink.

Oh.

Scratch that about making a huge mistake.

"Uh...sir?"

We both look up to see the server, with our crêpes in a tray in his hand. "Here are your guys'...uh, orders." Malik sits back down so that the server can place the tray on the table.

"Thank you," Malik says curtly.

"Thank you," I mumble.

The server nods and walks away, leaving Malik and me in silence as we eat.

I can't help but feel like I'm currently on thin ice. Or maybe I've already fallen through it.

Malik was silent the entire time he drove me home. He hadn't spoken to me since he told me Marik was his brother, except for asking me to pay my part of the bill. Instead of pulling up to the entrance of the apartment building, he pulls into the parking lot and parks. He turns off the engine. Both of us are silent.

I'm about to speak, but Malik does instead. "Ryo, I'm...I'm sorry. I overreacted."

I shake my head a little. "No, it's my fault, I shouldn't have asked—"

"No, it's entirely my fault," Malik says, finally looking at me. "I...I just get weird when people bring up Marik, I'm sorry. You didn't know, and you were just wondering, and I probably made you feel bad...," he trails off. He looks like he's going to cry. I realize how ridiculously sensitive he can be.

"No, you didn't make me feel bad...," I console him. "I...I just got worried afterward, I guess. And...a little more curious, I have to admit," I scratch my head. "But that's your business, so...you don't have to explain anything to me."

Malik makes a sad smile. He remains silent, turning to face the steering wheel. I'm not sure whether our conversation is over or not, so I stay put.

"Ryo...," Malik finally speaks, "...why are you so accepting of me?" he says quietly.

"What...What do you mean?" I tilt my head a little.

"I mean...You've only known me for three—well, four if you count today—four days, and...well...," he finally looks up at me. "Why...Why are you so accepting of me? Why haven't you left yet?"

"I...," I don't know what to say. I'm a bit overwhelmed. "I...Malik, why would I leave you?" His eyes widen a little.

"Well...you've dealt with me for a fourth day now. I don't understand how...how so damn accepting you are," he says explicitly.

"Why wouldn't I...accept you?" I question.

Malik straightens up. "You've…You've seen how I am, Ryo. I'm overly sensitive, I'm bossy, I'm annoying, I talk too much for my own good, I'm a flaming homosexual, for god's sake—no one's accepted me like this!" he bangs his fist on the wheel, making the car horn blare for a second.

I tentatively place a hand on his shoulder. "Malik...," I start, "I...I guess I 'accept' you because...you're a human being like everyone else. Just because you see yourself like you do doesn't mean every single person sees you the same way." I purse my lips, "Okay, I admit I agreed with you a bit with your description, but...that doesn't mean I'll automatically reject you."

Malik stares at me, disbelief in his eyes. "...Are you an angel or something?"

I supress my laughter to a low chuckle. "No, Malik. I'm not an angel."

He suddenly throws his arms around me. "Ryo-lovely, you're too pure for me. I don't know if I can stand you anymore," he says the last sentence jokingly.

I simply laugh and shake my head.

(A/N:) Holy shiznits this chapter was longer than the others. I don't know if it seems that way to you gaiz or not, though. But according to the amount of words, IT'S LONGER.

Anyway, LOLLOLLOLLOL corny meetings between two people FTW.
Well when you're at a school in a library what do you expect? Psshht, high school never ends. (Wait, what?)

Okay, I have to apologize for the (500) Days of Summer references. There were only like, two or something, but still. Haha. It's a good movie. My apologies, for whatever reason. ;w; (VIRTUAL COOKIES IF YOU POINT THEM OUT IN YOUR REVIEW~)

Soooo, in my eyes, I ended this chapter oddly. That "deep talk" was a spur-of-the-moment thing. o_o I kind of just didn't want there to be just a plain apology and that's it. Because, you know, that's boring. So...yeah. But at least there was a little more character development, right...? /shot (Maybe too much, Natsu.)

Anyway, I have no idea what's going to happen next. Or do I. DUN DUN DUUNN.

Reviews fill my inbox with happiness and rainbows and unicorns. But mostly happiness. Which is sad because I was hoping for some unicorns.