Bakura woke up before his alarm, a rare feat for him. The Egyptian's arms were loosely draped around his waist, obliviously dreaming away. Bakura was left feeling empty.
A mysterious number had texted him. Odd.
[7700-900280:
Hey! We should hang out again sometime. It's Gemma ;)]
[REPLY:
How did you get my number?]
[SEND]
[7700-900280:
Got it off Marik's phone.]
He glanced over his shoulder to confirm that said student was indeed still sleeping.
Bakura was not one to be unfaithful. He did not form many bonds, but the ones he did, he tried his best to be loyal to them. Except for Ryou. Of course this wasn't any bond, it was undefined. He wasn't the only person in Marik's life, something Marik still had yet to confirm or deny.
He wanted this. Besides, she went through all the trouble of going through Marik's personal belongings behind his back.
[REPLY:
Yes we should hang out.]
[SEND]
"Bakura, you've barely eaten," Natalie's words echoed through him like earlier this morning.
"You should at least have something before you go," Marik was chastising him.
"I don't really eat breakfast." It was mostly true.
The blond frowned, not wanting to push the shift in atmosphere since he woke up this morning. He wasn't exactly sure what started it, but he wasn't pleased with it either. "No wonder you're so thin."
"I'm not very hungry today. Sorry," he replied to the woman sitting across the table from him.
She poked at her salad, shooting him worried glances occasionally. He played with the soup he forced himself to buy at the cafeteria earlier, the only thing he could stomach at the moment.
"Are you ill?" she pressed again, being the concerned friend she was.
"No, Nat. I'm fine. I'm just not hungry today."
"Something's bothering you. You can tell me, you know. Ever since Saturday night, when you left with that uni girl – does she have something to do with it?"
"No, no she doesn't," he monotonously replied. The paralegal gave a quick glance around the lunch room. No one of significant annoyance was around to eavesdrop and pester him later with this next bit of information. "But I do have a question for you regarding her."
The brunette visibly perked up, finally being given a little insight. "Yes?"
"Do you think it would be weird to date a student?"
"You've barely touched your black dragon roll," Ryou spoke, pointing his chopsticks impolitely. He was the perfect human with everyone else, but with Bakura, it seemed Ryou forgot all formalities, or he just didn't care about Bakura enough to bother. It was like watching the brat all over again when they were children.
"I'm not really hungry," was his answer of the day, blank and muttered. He preoccupied himself with aligning his soya sauce tray against his plate. Perfectly filled to the rim; a small ritual he had been doing for years. Four sushi pieces taken from the communal plate sat in a perfect square on his plate. Glass of water to his right. Small tea cup to his left, steaming. Wooden chopsticks separated and filed down to avoid splinters. Copacetic.
"Then why the hell did you invite me to all-you-can-eat sushi? I can't do this by myself!" Ryou's harsh speech interrupted his comforting placement. He could almost pride himself on how much calmer he sounded than Ryou anytime he tended to his anger. Part of him wondered why he always got the brunt of Ryou's rage, big or small. Everyone else saw the mild-mannered, timid nerd. He had to stop himself from snorting at the fact that Ryou was just that, a passive-aggressive nerd. Wait. What the hell did that make him?
"Then don't it eat. Pay extra," he replied dryly, tone still at the same low level.
Ryou gave him the same unimpressed look that Bakura had mastered years ago. "I thought you invited me to supper as a sort of apology for your fuck up yesterday, but I should have known. You never invite me for anything," he replied composed, picking at a spider roll.
Bakura made an apathetic sound, acknowledging that his brother had spoken but barely paying attention to the words. After a prolonged silence where the paralegal concentrated with almost scientific precision on carefully dipping the one maki roll he chose to eat that evening in soya sauce, he heard Ryou let out a low gasp.
"I've figured it out. You've been dumped!" Ryou exclaimed.
"Excuse me?" Bakura looked up, conflicting emotions crossing his face, mostly baffled. He ate the sushi suspended between his chopsticks. He needed to clear things up with his dearest brother first.
"That's why you've been so quiet, and that shirt, and you were expecting someone, and-" the younger man rambled on, emerald eyes glinting with success.
"That was a man's shirt," he cut in.
"Still, why would you choose me, out of all people, to spend time moping with?" Ryou poorly, very poorly, but rightly reasoned.
"I wasn't fucking dumped, okay? And, I need that shirt back!" he snapped.
Ryou shrugged. "Okay, fine. You weren't dumped. Maybe in due time you'll tell me what's going on. You're lucky I'm used to how much of an asshole you are," his younger brother huffed.
"I wasn't dumped. Fine, I'll tell you." Sorta. Ryou perked up, albeit suspiciously.
"I've been contemplating on dating a student."
"Please don't tell me it's someone in my classes." The hint of horror in the younger one's expression was almost enough for Bakura to say yes.
"No, she's not a grad student like you. There's no way she'd be in any of your classes," he replied honestly. In anticipation for the onslaught of questions, Bakura partially zoned out. His eyes observed the cross-sections of each maki roll, noting the unevenness in culinary creations. The words left his mouth, humouring Ryou before another slip veered them into chaos again. What was Marik doing?
"Does she go to my school?" Ryou began innocently enough.
"I'm not sure actually." He assumed Gemma attended the same university as Marik. He couldn't even remember where Marik went. Somehow, he could remember the exact number of refills left on his prescription bottle and the dates of his psychological relapses.
"How can you be not sure? You're supposed to be dating her," his brother scoffed, judgemental eyes behind his tame hair. Was that a drop of sauce on his fringe?
"I'm not dating her yet. I did say I was contemplating," he clarified in irritation. "You should look in a mirror, Ryou," he added dryly.
Immediately, his brother turned on his phone, using the camera for his eyes. "Then how are you certain she will actually want to be with someone like you?" After finding the miniscule brown spot, he grabbed a napkin. "Only you would zero in on something so unnoticeable," the younger one muttered.
"Devil's in the detail," he recited. "Trust me, I know. The fact remains she is younger though." Well, not that much younger, but pre and post graduation minds wildly differ. The paralegal was sufficiently distracted at this point that he ate the end of the roll, eliminating imperfection from his plate. Now, he needed a new one to replace his square's corner…
"What's younger?"
"Like four to five years younger, and still very much in the student mindset," he recalled. Her entire demeanor was that of the quintessential woman in her early twenties. Marik's room had seemed so stoic in comparison to hers.
"I thought you liked mature people," Ryou commented a little too haughtily.
"She is." She's more mature than Marik, he bitterly thought. "You're still not answering my question. I know the age gap isn't much of an issue. It's simply…you know, I'm not a student anymore. I'm not sure I can entirely relate."
"Is she fit?" Ryou unpoetically stabbed. Reaching over the table, he stole one of Bakura's maki rolls. Ruining his square again.
"If only people knew who you really were." There were no pieces left of this particular sushi. He had to eat another piece to even it out. He selected what he deemed to be the most immaculate specimen and chose to savour it, unlike his other ingestions of the day. Why was he hyper focusing on something so dumb?
"How did you even meet her?" Ryou was reaching for another one of his pieces, but the paralegal quickly smacked his hand away.
"She's a…friend's roommate. The friend is older," he answered.
"You're moping over dating a younger woman?" his brother questioned, perplexed.
"No, I am not. Just answer my fucking question." A pointed glare followed his demand.
"You can see where it goes, I suppose." Ryou shrugged before regrettably continuing his unwise observations. "The age difference would actually make her younger than Amane if she were alive today. Please don't tell me you're going to be that guy with the weird sister complex."
"Wow, Ryou. That is singlehandedly the most fucked up thing you could ever say. I don't even want to look at you anymore." He stared blankly, pupils constricting in disgust, his tone dead.
"I'm sorry. I take it back." His brother's apology almost sounded insincere, but his face remained genuine. "Can we talk about her please?"
He raised a cautious eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because you never want to talk about her, you never want to talk about anything, not since that day." In a rare moment, Ryou looked sad as he shuffled the gyoza on his small plate.
"We didn't exactly have the most riveting conversations as children, Ryou," he replied passively, not wanting to commit to any deep conversations.
"That's not what I meant," his younger brother groaned.
"Why does it matter? You became father's pride and joy, and got everything." His voice remained neutral as he brought up the bias.
"And you suffered for it," Ryou prodded.
"No, I didn't." He frowned, resolve unwavering. This wasn't going to turn into Ryou's sob fantasy story.
"Yes, you did. First, you started pissing off dad by disobeying the rules. Then, you got your license suspended." The younger man almost seemed triumphant in the way he listed off Bakura's perceived downfall.
"It was only suspended once. I was in sixth form!" The paralegal's frustration was increasing with their turn in conversation.
"Yeah, and dad threatened to take away your tuition money when you almost flunked out of uni," Ryou lovingly reminded him.
"I passed, didn't I?" he stated sternly. He placed his chopsticks parallel to the remaining sushi on his place and folded his hands together.
"Bakura, why were you even failing to begin with? You're smart," Ryou fought for his conversation.
"I lack motivation."
"Well, you did something good when you used to be Amane's favourite. You were my favourite brother, too…once," Ryou mumbled out the last bit.
Avoiding the topic was not happening tonight.
"I'm your only brother, that's barely a competition." He rolled his eyes, but Ryou was not deterred.
"Don't deny it. When mum died, you packed all our lunches and you always fixed Amane's hair every morning," his brother pleaded. Oh god.
A part of him felt sick to his stomach. The numb part of him was set on ending this conversation and shutting Ryou out. "So, I became very good at braiding hair. What's your point?"
He could see the moment it cracked in Ryou's eyes, turning into a dull green agate, jaded. "Never mind."
"I wasn't that great of a brother and you know why," he mumbled.
"Stop blaming yourself," Ryou consoled in a low voice.
"I could have prevented it," he countered.
"We were just kids with barely any supervision."
The sounds of the restaurant seeped into the silent void that had fallen on their table. A waitress carrying a tray of multi-coloured ice creams bestowed the treats to a neighbouring table.
"I lied to the sitter," he condemned himself.
"We all did, so we could have some fun."
"Hey handsome," a voice greeted him.
He turned around to face Gemma, noticing now that her eyes were a deep blue, a colour the Thames should have been, but instead the cold river reflected a distasteful murkiness.
He tightened the scarf around his neck as an icy chill blew from the Thames; autumn had definitely arrived. Despite it being a late Monday night, there were still people bustling about the water's edge, and he didn't feel any hungrier since his unsatisfying dinner with Ryou.
"I know it's a bit cold tonight, but Marik took over the apartment with…you know," she left the blanks for Bakura's mind to fill in as he saw fit. The new secret girlfriend.
"It's fine," he replied, automatically wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they began walking. She seemed pleased. He could work with this.
"Want one?" she asked, pulling out a fag.
"I think you already know that answer," he replied as she was placing a cigarette in his hand.
"You make small talk so difficult, Bakura," she taunted the paralegal. Still, he felt comfortable.
"You know, I talked about you today," he admitted.
"Should I be concerned or flattered?" She smirked.
"It might have been flattering. More importantly, I need to know what university you attend. It can't be the same as my brother's."
She laughed. "It's the same as Marik's."
He exhaled some smoke, forming a thick grey cloud in his peripheral, dispersing seconds later. "I actually don't know that."
She tilted her head in confusion for a moment, before her burgundy lips formed another knowing smirk. "I'd like to remain just as mysterious as well."