In this place, there was so little content in each day that it was hardly worth mentioning. There was nothing to see, besides near-complete darkness. There was nothing to hear, besides Mariku's voice, my responses, and the occasional, scattered screams of the victims Mariku brought here.

But worst of all, there was nothing to do. Even when I had been younger and living in the tomb, I had been able to busy myself with something. Once mother died, I was partially responsible for retrieving various items from the surface whenever Rishid was too busy to do it. But now even that simple pleasure had been yanked away from me, and I couldn't deny that it bothered me. If I had to pinpoint the one thing that was slowly driving me insane, it probably wouldn't be Mariku or the darkness. No, I was almost certain that it was the lack of activity. Hardly a day went by where I didn't find myself pacing back and forth across the dimly lit room, just to prove that I could still move my body.

But even with these small interludes of motion, most of my time was spent sitting on the bed, knees drawn to my chest and head down as I wasted the hours thinking about and considering various things. Absolutely no topics were off limits during these stretches of time. I reminisced about childhood, considered my present, and worried over my future. It was funny, really, how- despite my desperate wishes otherwise- every single one of these involved Malik in some way. It wasn't that this fact surprised me- from the very beginning of his life, every single aspect of our family revolved around him. As soon as they realized that I wasn't the male heir they desired, they had moved on, choosing instead to obsess over the role Malik would ultimately fill. I couldn't say I envied him for it, though. He had his own problems to deal with, problems which were most likely far beyond anything I would ever experience or even consider.

Yes, compared to what he had endured, this was next to nothing. What kind of older sister would I be if I tried to claim otherwise? When Mariku left another bruise on my face, that could hardly be considered to be at the same level as the scars on Malik's back. At least my scars would ultimately fade.

At least I was still alive to feel them.

Xxx

Sometimes several days would pass between visits from Mariku. The only thing I could always count on was the slight opening of the door, which occurred what I guessed to be twice a day. This was also when I got my small amount of food for the day. When I had first arrived here, I had refused to eat anything and everything that was given to me. I don't remember why, but I think it had to do with wanting to prove something. I didn't need him, and I wasn't about to submit to what he said. I had rebelled in other ways as well, but after the effects of not eating for several days settled in, I chose starvation as the first form I would give up. I was only hurting myself, and if I wasn't getting out, then all I could really do was adapt.

But that wasn't important anymore. I had other things to focus on, things that were much more important than some small section of the recent past. For example, there was the matter of the footsteps I heard each day. When Mariku was the one approaching the door, his shoes made a loud sort of thud on the hardwood floor outside. Even the sound of his footsteps demanded attention, flaunting his power for what was left of the world to see. But every now and then, when the door was only cracked open for a brief moment, the moments leading up to it weren't filled with that intimidating sound. Rather, I could hear a softer, almost hesitant sort of step from outside my door. It was a small difference, and in the event that I was given something else to dwell on and obsess over, I probably wouldn't have given it a second thought. But in a world where nothing could be seen or done in order to pass the time, it was a fascinating thing, one I found myself considering more and more.

There could be someone else here. Mariku could have taken another person- possibly from the blimp, as he had with me- and locked them inside this place. But I couldn't help but have more questions from there- was this person given the privilege of walking around at will, or perhaps even given a small fraction of Mariku's power? Or- and this was the option that seemed more likely- was Mariku using them as some sort of slave, doing the menial tasks (such as delivering my meals) that he didn't want to bother with? Either way, I couldn't help but find myself to be feeling the slightest bit jealous. They were alive just as I was, and that alone was enough to make us more fortunate than others. But they could, at the very least, have something to do each day, something much more interesting than sitting in the dark and contemplating the owner of a pair of possibly-nonexistent footsteps.

Xxx

From what I could tell, there was a break of around four days between Mariku's previous visit and the next. I still got my food twice a day, but more often than not, it was the softer footsteps that I heard, and they always seemed to run away an instant after the door clicked shut. So for those few days- the longest stretch I could remember since awakening here- I was completely alone.

Despite my circumstances as a child- or perhaps because of them- I wasn't very accustomed to feelings of loneliness. As long as I could remember, I had always had either family, or- in the short time leading up to Battle City- coworkers to keep me company. Even when I had first begun my time imprisoned here, Mariku's visits had been much more frequent than they were now. And although I hated every fiber of my being for it, I almost missed seeing him every day.

No, perhaps that was the wrong way to phrase it- in no way did I miss his incessant condescension, mockery, or outright abuse. He as a person was something that I would be perfectly content to not deal with for the rest of my life. But… he was all I had anymore. He was the reason that my existence was still ongoing. He was the only living contact I had with anyone, or most likely would have with anyone ever again. And as a human being, that alone was enough to make me cling onto him. As disgusting and degrading as it was, I couldn't help but wait impatiently for him to return each day. I anxiously anticipated hearing the sound of another's voice, even when all it did was throw insults at me.

So when he was gone for days at a time, and the only thing I could hear were an increased amount of screams from before in the distance, I found myself muttering things to myself instead, simply to drown out the horrors around me.

"Come back."

"Leave them for now, and come back."

"He won't come back."

"Just like Malik."

"Malik."

Malik.

Every now and then, I heard his voice as well. It was never anything comprehensible, or anything like the dream I had had that night. But I heard it all the time, small whispers from my disappeared brother; small sounds that I found myself clinging onto and awaiting, just as I did with Mariku's visits. They both made me want to cry, but they were my only comforts.

Malik.

And Mariku.

Xxx

His next visit happened rather abruptly. I was curled up on the bed, doing my best to drift off to sleep, when I heard the door click open. Sighing, I cracked open my eyes and forced my half-asleep body into a sitting position. I stared at Mariku, who had made his way over to the bed as I woke myself up. He stood over me, although I could only see his outline in the dark.

"It's been a while," he said. There was no real emotion to his voice for once. Not even condescension, which usually laced every single one of his words. I nodded slowly. I vaguely considered asking him where he had been, but decided against it almost straight away. Not only was there absolutely no chance of him actually telling me something like that at any time, but he also didn't seem like he was in the mood to answer any questions at all, based on the now-prominent glare he was directing right at me. So instead, I simply sat there and waited for him to start talking again. When he did, however, his words managed to catch me slightly off my guard.

"Sister, do you have any idea why I decided to keep you alive?" I wondered if he expected me to answer- it was hard to tell with him, sometimes, whether he wanted me to reply to his questions or not. But even if I had known he wanted me to say something, I would have remained silent. After all, it was impossible to provide an answer to a question that I had been asking myself for a very long time.

But after a slight pause, he continued, not waiting more than a split second for me to say something. "I could have just killed you back then, on the blimp. No, actually, I could have done it sooner- that day in the tomb six years ago, when I rid the world of that idiot you called a father. I considered it, for sure- you were always so loud, so annoying…" he trailed off for a moment, considering his words. "But do you have any idea why you're still here today, 100% alive?"

How should I know? I thought bitterly. How should I know, when you've never told me anything? But knowing that saying something like that would only get me into some sort of trouble, I shook my head no and left it at that. He grinned in response.

"The answer is actually rather simple, sister." The smile not leaving his face, he pulled out the Millennium rod from behind his back. In one quick motion, he removed the hidden dagger from its sheath and held it inches away from my face. I swallowed, instinctively backing away from the blade. Although it shone with an eerie glint in the darkness, I could see that a part of it was still coated in the blood of one of Mariku's victims. "What's keeping me from bringing my hand a few inches forward and stabbing you through the eye? I can tell you now that it's not out of any sort of pity. It's not that I would feel any remorse as I watched you scream for those few seconds before you finally died." His grin widened. "But that's just it- it would only last a few seconds before everything ended. Your death wouldn't even change anything. Because really, the truth of the matter is, I could care less about you." He laughed. "Don't you get it, sister? I don't have any connection with you, positive or negative. Rishid was always the one who kept me at bay- you were never close enough to have that ability. Even when I see you here, alive as ever, I still maintain control of this body."

I was silent. I didn't have it in me to deny anything he had just said, because I knew it all to be true. I had never been the one who was able to save Malik. I had tried; I had done everything I could to rescue him from the darkness. But I wasn't the one who had been with him the whole time during Battle City. Rishid was.

I wasn't the one who had carved into my own flesh, just so that Malik wouldn't be alone in his pain. Rishid was.

I was never the one who had the ability to keep Mariku at bay.

That had always, always been Rishid.

And as much as I hated to admit it, that was something I would always, always envy him for.

Mariku laughed again when he saw my face, most likely because he knew he had finally managed to strike a nerve. He lowered the rod from in front of my face.

"You're not important to me. You weren't important to my other half. So I'm keeping you alive. There's no reason for you to die by my hand." He turned around, presumably about to leave again.

"But if you give me a reason," he said, lifting the rod again for emphasis, "I won't hesitate to kill you. You should remember that." And with those chilling words left hanging in the air behind him, he left me yet again.

I was completely still, sitting on the bed and contemplating everything he had said.

If I became a threat to him, he would kill me.

He would kill me, just as he had Rishid.

I would have done something to put his power in jeopardy.

I would get out of here.

All at once, the severity of my thoughts hit me, and I shook my head violently to try and get rid of them. When I had first arrived here, I had been certain I was going to die right away. And at the time, although I hadn't shown it, I had been absolutely terrified by the mere idea of it. So I couldn't help but wonder- what had happened to me between now and then that gave me the ability to consider my own death so lightly? Since when had I ever been weak enough to even consider the thought of ending my life as a means of escape?

I couldn't do it. No, I refused to do it. I had promised myself that I would live, after all. No matter how difficult things got for me, or how much I was forced to endure, I was not going to crack from the pressure. I would fight my circumstances for however long I could hold out. I would do everything I possibly could to postpone my inevitable dying breath.

Wouldn't I?

Xxx

Ahh, you have no idea how sorry I am for the break I took on this! I really love this story; I do. I don't know why I abandoned it for so long. I can't wait to get all this introduction stuff out of the way, so I can jump into the plot elements I've been planning. Yup, I don't have a definitive way of getting there quite yet, but I have some pretty great stuff that I'd like to do with this fic. Already, I've tried to make it clear how- despite what she wants- Ishizu's mind is starting to be affected by the pressure from her situation. Her mindset has always been negative, but at the end, you can see her trying really hard to grab for any positives she can- she wants to remain strong, after all. But she's growing more and more desperate to hang on to that strength, and that's one of the things that I plan to explore quite a bit in later chapters.

So basically, I'm sorry for the 5 month delay, and I hope to get back to regular updates with this (as well as my other fics) soon!