Odion and Ryou were going to be worried sick about me. They were likely to start a search party, maybe even two, and neither were going to be able to find me. I heard the distinctly loud set of 'clicks' that meant the lights were being shut off. The ambient glow lighting up our supply closet from the top and bottom of the door went out and plunged us into darkness.

It reminded me of the tomb back in Egypt, the feel of close-together walls, the darkness of extinguished candles, the dusty scent of a passage that hadn't been swept out in a while. But there were things marring the illusion as well: that the wall behind me and the floor under me weren't stone that had been meticulously built block-by-block thousands of years ago, the smell of cleaning chemicals that scented the air had never tainted the ancient atmosphere of the tomb, and even the darkness wasn't the all-consuming black that swallowed hallways and rooms that hadn't been touched by sunlight in the millennia since their creation.

Whether I'd wanted it or not, I was the heir to the distinguished Tomb Keeper line of Egypt, guardians to the secrets of the Pharaohs and the Priests of the Gods. I felt the weight of all those thousands of years of tradition heavily on my shoulders, but there was pride in it, too; in spite of my father and our excisism for whatever he'd done to shame or infuriate the Priests. Odion and I knew things, secrets, that people would kill for, would die for; that were carved on our bodies.

After what had to be at least another hour, I was brought excitedly out of my thoughts at a wonderful sound, standing up and working my way over to press my ear against the door, "Do you hear that?"

I heard Bakura stand up as well, "Hear what?" his accent seemed a bit thicker in the darkness.

"I think someone's coming this way!"

"Shh!" I was quiet, assuming he was listening to the door as well, "I think you're right." his voice sounded as excited as mine, "How much noise do you think you can make?"

"As much as necessary to get out of here."

I jumped back at a bang, then realized he'd kicked the door to make more racket. I started pounding on it with my hands, "Hey! Help us! We're trapped! Hellooooo!"

"Get us the bloody hell out of here! Open the damn door!"

Desperate, I cupped my hands around my mouth, "Marco!"

Bakura stopped and I was grateful for the darkness, getting the feeling he was looking at me incredulously, "Really? Marco?"

I felt my cheeks heating, "Hey, whatever works, right?"

There was air movement (shaking his head?) and he sighed, "It's a wonder you aren't picked on more."

My face felt like it was ready to melt and I scowled ineffectually (it probably wouldn't have worked in the light, either, given who I was making faces at), "Can we get back to trying to get out of here? Whoever's out there might be getting further away."

"Right." there was a pause (did he roll his eyes? I would have if I were having a conversation like this with Ishizu. Given his impassioned rant, I could probably safely figure I was at least that annoying in his eyes) and he went back to shouting, "Hey!"

"In here!"

We both froze as a white light appeared under the edge of the door. We panted to get our breath back from all the yelling, sharing surprised (or I was surprised anyway) smiles of victory that were barely visible in the dim lighting. The sound of the lock turning was like the feeling I got when I'd answered a question I wasn't certain of only to have Ryou beam at me and shout 'correct!' during our study sessions.

I winced and held my hand in front of my eyes as the door opened and the light blinded me. The light lowered to the floor and I saw that was a very bright white flashlight being held by a woman in a sky blue traditional kimono with a big red bow in the back that was visible from every angle, her blue hair up in an intricate style with decorations in the back. I beamed widely, "Principal Utuskushii!"

She gave a small, demure smile back, "Marik." the light swung to my left, "And Bakura as well." then it settled between us and her lips twitched, "Well, it appears you two had some fun in here. The janitors are not going to be happy about this." not that that was a large concern of hers; the Principal and janitors got into arguments alot.

Bakura's voice sounded sneerier (I was pretty sure that wasn't an actual word, but it fit) than it had when we were alone, "Oh, yeah, loads of... fun."

My gaze narrowed as the light was once again swung my way, blinking as it was moved over to Bakura and I saw him wincing as he held his side. She frowned, "So it seems." Oh, she must have been looking at my cheek from where I'd been punched. It did feel kind of swollen, and Bakura seemed rather uncomfortable.

I shifted and looked back at the, er, mess, that we'd made, "Sorry."

She moved out of the way, "Would you boys like to come out of the closet now?"

I choked my snicker down to a short, scoff-like sound, "Little late for me on that, but it'd be nice to get out of this particular one, yes."

I saw Bakura scowling blackly and hurried from the room, standing on our principal's other side and shamelessly using her as a shield, just in case he decided to throttle me again. I wasn't afraid, per se, but one strangling already today was enough to have me cautious of his temper.

Bakura came up on her other side and she took a step forward, looking at us over her shoulder, "Let's take this to my office." that wasn't the suggestion it sounded like; it was an order. I was suddenly less enthusiastic about being rescued, letting distance develop between us before starting to follow her. Maybe being near Bakura wasn't so bad after all...

The principal could be very scary when she wanted to be, and her punishments were legendary. Her odd sense of justice included having a male student that had graffitied 'fag' across another student's locker (surprisingly neither mine nor Ryou's) go through the entire school day in white tights, with a rainbow tutu included. That student still couldn't go an entire week without somebody snickeringly calling him Sailor Moon.

There were rumors of even more radical punishments, too. Like a student that had made a mess of the Art Class' supplies being the subject of naked modeling week, but I wasn't sure I believed that one. It seemed like a legal escapade-in-the-making and I didn't think the school would go through the hassle. Still, the rumors alone were scary enough, and given what was known of actual acknowledged punishments, nothing seemed impossible.

I had the theory our esteemed principal had been someone very much like Bakura in her highschool years.

We followed Principal Utuskushii through the halls to her office. Her name meant 'Beautiful' in Japanese, and I was uncertain if it was a nickname or her given one. Most people called her the Headhuntress because her actual title was technically 'Headmistress' (though she insisted on 'Principal') and of her unique approach to discipline.

She sat down behind the desk, threaded her fingers together and looked at us over them, "Now, Marik, I know you like to have a little fun..."

It took all my control not to scoff or burst out laughing. She wasn't only the principal, she taught the knife skills of the cooking portion of my Home Ec class, where she was known as Professor Kirei (another Japanese word for beautiful, which I found mildly disturbing). Said class being the same one whose window I was hung out of on my first day and that I was blamed for. 'Fun' would not have been my word of choice, but the evidence was stacked against me, marking me as an off-and-on troublemaker along with Ryou.

"And some harmless pranks help keep the janitorial staff on their toes, but students fighting is going entirely too far." she seemed to be waiting for one of us to say something.

What could I have said? 'No, we weren't fighting, I was getting beaten; the two are completely different things. He's just in pain because I tackled him to save his life, honestly.' Right. Somehow I didn't think that explanation was going to hold.

She sighed and reached into a drawer, getting up and coming around the desk to stand in front of us, "Both of you, put your hands out." we held them out for what I guessed was her inspection. My hands were clear, though the backs of Bakura's were a little scuffed from hitting me. Then without warning, she pulled her hand out of her pocket and there was a series of little clicking sounds.

I stared down in shock at my left wrist and the new cuff it bore. Bakura immediately tried to rid himself of it, "What the hell is this?!"

Principal Utuskushii stared down at us sternly, "I can't have students fighting in my school. Maybe you two will learn to grow more tolerant of each other if you're forced to spend time together."

She'd handcuffed us together! I staggered off balance as Bakura jerked his arm away and almost crashed into him, "Bakura! Ow."

He winced and rubbed his wrist, "Ah! Dammit." The chain between us was very long by handcuff standards, about three feet, like a prison inmate's. But it was way too short given the space we'd both rather put between us after being locked in a closet all afternoon with only each other for company.

My mind whirled into a panic at what having Bakura with me constantly would mean in relation to my life. Principal Utuskushii put her hand to my forehead, so I guess I must have suddenly looked sick, "Oh, don't worry so much, it's only until Monday."

I shook my head, "W-what about bathroom visits? Bathing? Our families?"

"You're both boys, I'm fairly sure neither of you has anything the other hasn't seen before on himself." I thought about my back. Would you like to bet on that? "You'll just have to explain to your families that this is your punishment. And as for bathing since you won't be able to take your tops off with those on... Well, I suggest refraining from doing anything very strenuous this weekend."

Oh, Gods, Father's going to kill us both. "Is there anything about this in the rule book?"

Principal Utuskushii smiled creepily, "Oh, when have I ever let the rules get in the way? Besides, no one reads those things anyway."

I was getting desperate, but Bakura spoke before I could, asking almost the exact question I would have (albeit more calmly), "Is this even legal?"

"Possibly."

I was about to come up with another argument when Bakura scoffed and turned away, dragging me with him, "Forget it, let's just get the hell out of here."

I slumped in defeat and followed him out, wishing we'd just been left in the closet. We probably would have figured something out eventually. With all the things in there, maybe we could have worked the bolts out and broken the door down. Or Bakura was a self-admitted thief and I was good at squeezing into small places, maybe we could have gone through a ventilation duct or something. Hindsight is ever perfect.

I turned when I heard the door closing again, my curiosity flaring, "Um, Principal Utuskushii?"

She turned, "Yes, Marik?"

"Why were you roaming the halls after school anyway?"

She smiled, "That's simple. I've been doing it for safety reasons ever since a certain student got stuck up on the roof all night."

I blushed and turned away to see Bakura smirking, "Oh." that student had been me, of course; Bakura had locked me on the roof with a hurricane coming in that night. She went the opposite way as Bakura took us (to continue her patrol?) and I struggled to keep up, "Slow down, would you? I have shorter legs than you do."

"You've cost me enough time today."

My indignation flared instantly, and I froze in place, making him stop as well, "Me?! I cost you time? You threw me in a closet to beat me without witnesses! You tried to strangle me! You threw me across the room into a set of steel shelves that almost killed us both! You did all that, not me! Take a look in the mirror, Bakura, there's the one who's cost you all your time!"

"Shut up."

"No! I'm tired of being your scape goat, of taking the heat for whatever you don't feel like admitting to that day. I may not be able to keep you from framing me in front of others, but damned if I'll let you try and toss blame on me when you and I are the only ones who were there!"

He turned around in a flash, grabbed my arm, and twisted it up behind me, pulling his other arm across my body to make our chain dig into my neck, "I said: Shut. Up."

I glared up at him and forced my words out past the block, "And I... say... fuck. You."

He growled and shoved me forward, not grasping the implications quickly enough as I fell and jerked him forward, too. His head hit against the wall while I tried to catch myself with my hands, "Sonofabitch!"

I shook my head and muttered, "We're going to end up amputated from the wrist down at this rate." I got up and held out my hand to help him stand, "Are you done being a jackass yet, or would you maybe like to toss us down a flight of stairs next?"

He smacked my hand away and stood up on his own, "You never know when to shut up, do you?"

"No, I apparently didn't get that gene. It's something you're just going to have to deal with over the next two days: I'm honest to a fault, and I have issues keeping my opinions silently."

"You're going to end up with alot of bruises during the next two days."

"Hmph. If you're going to hit me every time I tell you something you don't like about yourself, maybe I'm not the one that needs to change. My keeping quiet about your faults doesn't mean you don't have them."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Only when I don't talk at all. And I'm not spending the whole weekend in silence."

He scoffed and body bumped me, "Fine, maybe not every time you talk; I need to conserve my energy."

I rolled my eyes and followed him, "We need to stop by locker sixteen-two so I can get my things."

"Whatever."

"...Aren't you taking anything?"

"No."

I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head. It was immature and juvenile, and so very satisfying. I caught up to him and looked down at our cuffs, "You wouldn't happen to be able to pick these open, would you?"

"Look again, genius. There's no keyhole."

"What?" I held my wrist up to get a good look. He was right, there was no keyhole, but a set of five dials: it was a combination lock, "...There was way too much thought put into chaining us together."

"You're the math savant: how many possible combinations are there?"

I did the calculations almost instantly, talking it out as I went, "The number of places times the number of choices per place. Five places times ten numbers: a hundred-thousand possibilities minus one since it's already on all zeros and still locked. Twice that if they're both different. That's one-hundred and ninety-nine-thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-eight possible combinations left."

He looked down at me in surprise, "Could you crack that?"

I nodded, "I could, eventually."

"How long would it take?"

Given my absolute best code-cracking time: "Next... thursday."

He sighed, "Just great. I guess that means I'm stuck with you."

"Right, stuck with me, because you're just a shining ray of joy to be around." I paused to think of any other possible solutions, "I don't suppose you have any bolt-cutters?"

"Nope, they got knicked the last time I broke into the equipment shed."

I sighed, "Fantastic." We made it to my locker and I stared at him, "Turn around."

"What?"

"I'm not letting you see my locker combo. With as much as I've aggravated you today? Who knows what horror you'd come up with to stuff in it when we finally get separated? Turn around."

He rolled his eyes and turned his back on me, "Just get on with it."

I got out my bag and all my books and closed my locker with a sigh, "I'm ready." I guess.

"Then let's get the hell gone already."

It was going to be a very long weekend, and it hadn't even started yet. I could see it already, Ishizu lecturing me when she got in, even though it wasn't my fault(!) and Odion fretting about us being stuck together and alternatingly glaring at Bakura from hearing the stories of my torments.

Bakura was sure to comment on the state of the house, which would put Ishizu even more on edge, even though I was prone to agreeing that the house was a complete wreck, and Odion would sigh and shake his head probably right up until the first time Bakura called my sister a bitch (which I saw as inevitable) and our brother was forced to restrain her.

Oh, yes, the fun was imminent.

My shoulders were slumped as I followed him out the front doors of the school. My attention was brutally brought back to the present when I heard the sound of something clanging above us and heard him shout, "Thief, no!"

I closed my eyes and tensed, knowing that two things were about to happen: I was about to get hit with something unavoidable, and it was going to be very unpleasant.

I didn't count on Bakura's reaction and our connection to each other, though. He dove out of the way and I felt my arm nearly ripped from it's socket as I was thrown left with him and heard something splash behind me. But all my attention was in front of me, on the flights upon flights of steps that Bakura and I were about to fall down.

He hadn't thought about our cuffs either, and my weight had jerked his dive off course, making him stumble and start falling, right down the steps. I saw a flash of us lying broken and bloodied at the bottom of the seven tiers as I once again felt myself yanked forward off my feet.

I opened my mouth to scream when it felt like both of my arms came out of their sockets and we jerked to a stop. I groaned in pain and looked back to see that my backpack's other strap had caught on the handrail going up the middle of the steps and miraculously held our combined weight.

Bakura picked himself up from his ungraceful sprawl under the rail, panting, "D-dammit."

My heart tried to hammer itself out of my chest as I sat down and laid back on the steps, "I-I was only kidding ab-bout the stairs, you know." Oh, Ra, that was too close!

Bakura flopped next to me, "I'll keep that in mind next time."

"Just a thought, but maybe I should drive given that that's the second time you've nearly killed us!"

"I didn't think Thief would still set the prank after locking us in the closet!"

"Twice!"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, quit bitching."

Deadly cobras, poisonous scorpions, beatings on a bi-weekly basis at the least, and Bakura was the greatest danger to my life. What kind of irony was that? "I'm still walking in front."

"Whatever. I don't know where you live anyway."

"Why are you so willing to go to my house, anyhow?"

"Because I'm not taking you to my place."

I should have been relieved, this would get me to my place quickly and without argument so I could start cleaning. But Bakura knew the exact wrong things to say to bring my seldom-seen temper right to the surface, and he was saying all of them. I glared at him, "What, afraid you'll get my cooties on things?"

"Drop it, unless you want another bruise."

"Whatever." Gods, he's already rubbing off on me. I picked myself up and winced at the soreness in my shoulders, unhooking my bag's strap from the rail and catching sight of some kind of green slime at the top of the stairs, "Do I even want to know what we were almost covered in?"

Bakura got up and dusted off his knees, "I doubt it." he glared up at the slime, and started muttering, "Even if he set up the prank, I thought he'd be here to set it off, not just make a trigger."

I felt a headache start in my temples and spread to join with the pain at the back of my head from the several times I'd been slammed back into a wall. I held in my sigh, feeling I'd done enough of that today, "Let's just go. We've got a fair walk ahead of us and I have alot of chores to do." Our walk was thankfully done in silence and my headache faded somewhat by the time we got to the house. I paused at the front door and stared straight ahead, "...I'd suggest not taking your shoes off. And watch out for, um, broken glass and metal shards."

" 'Metal shards'?"

I stared down at my hand on the knob and felt myself blushing, "Like, needles and things." I turned the handle and let the door swing open. I went in first and tossed my bag towards the hallway. I could tell immediately that the house was empty and let out a relieved breath.

Bakura followed me in and closed the door behind him, looking around and raising an eyebrow, "This place is a mess."

I copied his expression, "That's probably the nicest thing that's been said about it." Figuring my first order of business was to stem the panic I'd been the cause of, I walked over to the phone and started dialing.

"Hello?" a perky female voice answered.

"Hello. I'd like to leave a message for one of your workers to pick up during their break."

"Sure. What message?"

"For Odion Ishtar. I'm his little brother, Marik Ishtar. Could you please tell him that I just got delayed after school, but that I'm home now and... safe." my mind went to my swollen cheek, aching throat, my shoulders, and the fury Father was sure to unleash when he came home and saw that I'd brought a total stranger in the house because I was chained to him. Well, safety is a relative thing. So I wasn't lying, exactly. At least I wasn't dead in a ditch like he probably half-feared. It was a close call, though.

"Sure thing. Is that all?"

"Yes, thank you. Good bye."

"Bye, sweety."

I hit the end button and made a face at the handset. I'd have called Ishizu, but the convenience store was so small it didn't have a phone, or at least not anymore. I considered not making my next call until later, then regretted the thought and dialed anyway, "Hello?"

I took a breath and prepared for my verbal flogging, "Ryou."

"Marik! Where are you? Are you okay?!"

"Ryou, you have caller I.D.." I don't know how many times I'd had this argument with him, "But I'll save that for another time. I got locked in a closet."

"Locked in a closet? By Bakura?"

"With Bakura."

I held the phone away from my ear as my best friend screeched into it, "WHAT?!"

"Ryou, my hearing."

I could almost see him blush through the line, "Sorry. But oh, my, god! What happened? He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"Well, look at it this way, we'll match now."

It took about three seconds for that to register, "You mean he hit you?!"

And that's not all he did. "It's not the first time." But still, Ryou's concern for my wellbeing felt good and made my chest feel warm and constricted.

"What happened, how did you get out?"

"Well, Principal Utuskushii found us. We almost died from some steel shelves falling-" Now for the kicker. "-and we're sortofchainedtogether." I winced. Please don't catch that last part.

"Chained together?! You and Bakura? He's with you, there, right now? Right now?! Wait, died?! What do you mean you almost died?"

I outlined it as quickly as I could, leaving out everything Bakura and I had said, "And now we're stuck like this for the weekend."

"Oh. My. GOD! What's your father going to do?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

His voice suddenly quieted, "Ohh..."

"What?"

"Our plans tomorrow..."

"Oh, yeah." I glanced over at Bakura, "You wouldn't happen to, um, mind going to an amusement park tomorrow with myself, Ryou, and his parents, would you?" his glare was answer enough and I sighed, turning back to the phone, "Sorry, Ryou."

"No, I know it's not your fault. But what am I going to say to them without you there?!"

I smiled, "The same thing you would if I was there. They're your parents, Ryou, not alien monsters intent on devouring you. Be brave, you can do this."

I heard him taking deep breaths, "Right. I can do this."

"There you go. Besides, we can meet up after you get back, assuming it's not too late. Definitely on Sunday."

"Okay. So, what are you going to do tomorrow?"

"Well, I promised Alister I'd drop by. Beyond that, I'll figure something out. Listen, Ryou, I have to get to my chores now."

"No, I know. I shouldn't have taken so much of your time, but I was just so worried."

"I know you were. See you later?"

"Of course. Good night. And tell Bakura to behave!"

"Riiight. You want me to give him the phone so you can tell him that personally?"

"No." he squeaked, "That's okay."

I smiled and held in my snicker, "Bye, Ryou."

"Bye, Marik."

I shook my head and hung up the phone. I led us to the kitchen and got out a garbage bag from the closet, "I have to clean everything up, then we can go to my room or... something."

Bakura stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed, watching me bend down to pick things up and moving as needed so I could get everything. We made several trips to the kitchen so I could pour what remained of the various bottles and cans down the sink. After nearly a half hour of watching this, he finally spoke again, "I thought you lived ritzier than this."

I looked up at him from my bent position in confusion, "Why would you think that?"

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, "You walk around the school dripping gold from every appendage. Hmm, can't see how I got that impression at all, can you?"

I went back to watching what I was doing, "Oh, that. It's my inheritance from my mother. But I don't have much any more, it was all sold except for what little I have left now. I only have... let's see..." I quickly tallied it up in my head, "Two arm bands, two cuffs, these three torqs, one other torq, and my circlet. And seven loose gem stones." that I was not going to tell him the purpose of.

"Torq?"

I reached up to tap the gold at my neck, "These."

"Your necklaces."

I twitched. I hated that particular misconception, "They are not necklaces. Necklaces are flexible, torqs are rigid." I went back to my tally, "So don't think about taking anything, I know everything I own." which wasn't hard when you didn't own much.

"Ha, like any of your junk is worth knicking anyway." I turned away to hide my frown. I wasn't sure if I should feel relieved or insulted. I was leaning towards the latter. "So, must have been some party to make this much of a disaster."

I picked up another empty can, "No, just a normal week. There wasn't even a poker night this week, this is all just my father."

"...He drinks like a fish?" I ignored him and continued my cleaning. He jerked on the chain to our cuffs, "I asked you a question."

I yanked my hand back, "One that you can perfectly well guess the answer to. I don't like talking about my homelife. Anything I say is just going to end up as vitriol fodder around the school come Monday. I don't lie, but that doesn't mean I have to answer you."

"Whatever, be a hermit."

"My throat hurts, I don't feel like talking."

He scowled blackly at me and went back to crossing his arms and glaring at me in blessed silence. I wasn't going to let him talk me into revealing anything, I knew that trick well.

I picked up cans and bottles from the filthy floor quickly. The carpet was a muddy, purple sort of sludge tone. One couldn't even tell what color it had been originally (orange? I'm pretty sure I'd remarked to Odion about how ugly the orange carpeting was when we first moved in). I didn't vacuum, it would just ruin the machine with all the little bits of glass and metal, and I was convinced the floor couldn't be properly cleaned with anything not involving a flame thrower. Or bleach, but I'd been scolded when I'd tried that, the couch was currently sitting on the white splotch of ruined carpet.

I got the rest of the living room cleaned up and headed for the kitchen. I was tempted to smack my head against the wall in front of me when I heard Bakura's voice again, "Hey, you got anything to drink around here?"

Well, now I feel like a jerk. I sighed and started cleaning by the fridge, "Yeah, help yourself. We have some different sodas, and there's always water."

He opened the fridge and I held back my devious cackle at how comically round his eyes got at all the alcohol on every shelf and the door. I bent down to pick up more trash in hopes of hiding my silent laughter. I looked back up and my eyes widened at what he'd chosen. He lifted the carton of milk and I reacted too slowly, "Bakura, no! D-"

He immediately spat it out, "Ugh! What the hell?!"

"-on't..." I sighed and rubbed my forehead, "Thank you, I needed more to clean."

We went to the sink so he could rinse his mouth out and I took the milk carton and tossed it in the trash, like I probably should have done long ago. I guess I should just be grateful I wasn't standing in front of him when he took the drink. Somehow, I found it hard to feel the proper gratitude. I took deep breaths and stretched our chain as far as I could to get to the closet. I used the broom to pick up the bucket with my cleaning supplies in it.

I sprayed the wall and started wiping it off, halting my trash pick up for a moment before the milk dried and got sticky. When I finished and put my cleaning things back, Bakura was standing again, wiping his mouth, "I'm not thirsty anymore."

"Sorry about that. My siblings and I know not to touch that, and we haven't had guests over in... well, ever." the only outsider any of us had brought into the house was Ryou, and I'd known that was a mistake when I was doing it. Father came home early that day, on the war path, and I'd stuffed Ryou in my closet to hide him. After finding Ishizu and Odion weren't home, he'd taken his anger out on the only one could find: me.

I'd had Ryou sneak out of my bedroom window after my father left, more horrified than he'd ever been in his life, and I'd never invited him over again (not that he'd asked, and not that I blamed him for not asking). What if I'd been out of the room and he'd found Ryou instead? I shuddered at the thought.

Bakura surprisingly laughed, and it was a startlingly nice sound, "Nah, finally got a taste of my own medicine, I guess."

I smirked and went back to my cleaning. After another fifteen minutes or so, the house was clean to my satisfaction. We each took care of our own rooms, and the hallway miraculously never seemed to accumulate much clutter. I wiped off my forehead and tied the bag closed, tossing it outside for Odion to take to the recycling plant tomorrow. We had to make money wherever we could.

I smiled in accomplishment and turned back to Bakura, "There."

"Do you have any food in this place?"

I was getting hungry, too, "Well, there's taco stuff in the fridge that's pretty good, so long as you don't ask what meat was used to make it."

"Anything else?"

"Uh, no, not really. I mean, I could probably make something simple, like bread. But that's pretty much it. We're on the tail end of our last shopping trip and Odion doesn't get paid until tonight." I wasn't ashamed at the lack, it was just a fact of life. But I considered for a moment, "Well, we have plenty of spices, sugar, and flour. I could maybe make some cinnamon rolls."

Bakura looked surprised, "You can cook?"

I glanced at him, "It was my own Home Ec class I was hung out of. But, yeah, I'm learning. Actually, my siblings would probably really appreciate something sweet when they come home tonight."

"Well you can do your baking-thing after we eat, because I'm not up to waiting another hour when food's just five minutes in the microwave away."

"I thought you didn't want the taco stuff?"

He shrugged, "I'll eat anything if I'm hungry enough. Just get it out, would you?"

I rolled my eyes and got the things out. Gods, my eyes are going to roll right out of my head by the time Monday comes around. I made myself three taco rolls and passed the stuff to Bakura so he could make however many he was hungry for. A couple minutes in the black microwave each and we were eating in relative companionship (relative to the fighting, arguing, and glaring we'd already done, at least).

When we were finished he went to take my plate but I held on, "It's fine, I'll wash the dishes."

"I was only going to put it in the sink."

"Well now you don't have to."

He grabbed my wrist and glared at me, "I can carry two plates to the sink."

I stared down at his hand, feeling my face heat, "Touching me. You're touching me. Please stop touching me."

His grip loosened but didn't let go, "Yeah, and?"

"People don't really touch me. So could you..." Odion was the only one that really touched, to ruffle my hair or brush it away from my face.

"You have issues with being touched?" just issues with him touching me. An utter bastard Bakura might have been, but he wasn't exactly hard to look at, so long as one didn't mind the chance of getting a black eye for taking that look.

"N-not issues, per se. Just, nobody ever touches me. Not just to touch, anyway." The only scenarios in which I'd tried to touch someone else had ended... well, badly was an understatement.

He frowned, "Not to hold hands or anything?"

"No. I've never held hands with anyone." Weird but true; my hands were the most virgin part of me. I felt the need to point out: "You're still touching me."

Bakura sighed and let my wrist go, changing the subject, "You didn't eat very much, Ishtar."

I twitched, standing up and taking our dishes to the sink to wash, "Marik."

"What?"

"My name is Marik. There are four people in our school with the last name Ishtar." not that my name was so unique, even in my own family, but Malice wasn't using it at the moment, and, to my knowledge, no one else in the school had it but us.

"Sure, whatever you say, Malik."

I turned with my wet hands and splashed his face, "You aren't Japanese, Bakula, the mistaking an L for an R thing is no excuse for you."

He looked shocked for a moment and I waited for it to turn into anger, surprised when he crossed his arms and smirked at me, "You're really not going to let me get away with anything, are you?"

I smiled and went back to the dishes, "Not a thing."

His laughter filled the kitchen again and I shivered, "It's going to be a fun weekend."

But fun for who?

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