Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Alone ❯ Intermision Pt 2 [Solitary Love] ( Chapter 6 )

WARNINGS: Homosexual relationships- including June. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE! (By the way, June (pronounced: Dew-neh) is also maleXmale relationships but more involved with the actual plot.) Slight incest… u.u Shota (under-aged characters in…adult situations involving sex…o.O!!)

 

Disclaimer:

I do not own: (in order of appearance)

- “the Flintstones”
- the “Cheshire cat”

- “Placebo”- It's a rock band

 

 

 

Reviewer - Replies:

 

 

tis is a good fic, by `me': Thank you very much for your review! It's really hard to get constructive crits- so yeah! I appreciated it very much. About the putting down thing, it's just that I feel like I could do better with the story then what I did, and by putting myself down I'm allowing myself to accept the mistakes and understand that I do make mistakes- if you know what I'm saying. O.o…In other ways, I feel better to know that I know my own mistakes. -Laughs- But thank you so much! I promise you I won't do those kinds of comments then- I truthfully had no idea I was doing them in the first place before you mentioned it. xD So yeah. Hope you like these chapters- apologies for the late.

 

dragonlady222: Thank you! I guess you can describe Bakura as a `super thief' xD. And yeah, half in love, but not really knowing it…Read on to know what I mean. n.n

 

Aislynn G: Thank you very much for your constructive crit! It's so hard to get them kinds of reviews, so I appreciate every single one of them. -Hearts- About the POV thing, I originally did this because I didn't want to confuse my readers. There was a fic I was reading that changed POV's, but refused to elaborate to who it was at the very beginning. For example, they continued to write the story without even giving hints. I was afraid that I unknowingly would be one of these people. But yeah, I see what you mean. Because I wrote these chapters a while ago before editing, I didn't change that for these chapters, but in the future I will. Thanks for the advice. I'll also try to make sure I don't confuse people with switching either (without the POV's), because that's my style of writing

With the author comments, I'll gradually shorten them because I see what you mean. And, I'll start shortening my muses too I guess. xD

Well, if you like to, I'll give you permission to use the poem in your story. It's © by me though and so if you use it, please reference it to my site. n.n Thankies

 

 

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Sorry about this style of writing and these chapters -Bows- It was difficult to write.

I know I said that there would only be one more chapter for Marik…Alas, except that this chapter was way too long. As that's the case, I'm double chapter updating- treat it as one I guess. nn;Extra longchapters for the long lack of updating u.u;;; (Word Count: Approx. 5000…10,000 words including the next chapter. Ouch…)

 

Translations:

Akurai: Bright (light), clear -in Japanese Kanji.
Kanika:(Egypt) The Colour black
-San: Mr. (for this case anyways…)
Baka: Idiot

Character Reminder:

Marik is the older one and Malik is the younger one. Marik's full real name is `Mariku', but in this fic he preferred it shortened to Marik (I'll explain this in the story another time). Sorry for any confusion.

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Alone -By Annie Nguyen

Intermission Chapter Story One, Part Two (Marik's story)- “To Love Alone, Solitary Love.”

 

 

.: Marik's POV :.
… In Isis' Lounge Room …

 

“Marik…Do you really think this is a good idea?” Isis asked, settling herself down upon the couch, having doubts about the situation involving Bakura.

 

It has been three days since we found Bakura, and he has been in and out of a coma ever since. Not a serious one- just more of an exhausted one. My ability to control minds does not usually take this much energy from hosts; we assumed he caught some sort of virus from being out in the cold.

 

There is also the possibility that he is just using us. Bakura is apparently the Invisible Solitary, confessing everything including every single crime committed- to correct detail mind you. It had however confused me to why he seemed to be more of a street child than a rich thief. I asked him why he had been shirtless- in the cold rain, even though he should have more than enough money to produce some form of attire. If he really was the Invisible Solitary would not he at least have suitable clothes on? Bakura replied that he had given it away to this homeless and moneyless street child, whom he had seen before coming to my warehouse… It was rather surprising to know that the brat had a form of benevolence in him. Who would have thought it would come from a killer?

 

“I have absolutely no idea Isis,” I replied to her question, quickly dodging into the kitchen to avoid the cushion thrown my way.

“No idea? And here I thought you were being responsible- yet stupid- but responsible for once!” Isis exclaimed from the lounge, obviously exasperated with the situation. “Do you have absolutely no understanding to how ridiculous this is?!”

 

I whistled lightly to myself, not really wanting to listen to one of her many lectures as I took out two cups and set the kettle to boil water. Despite my cheerful demeanour I did have my own thoughts and doubts upon the situation. I do actually believe every word he says- scanning Bakura's mind for thoughts only gives me the same outcome as Bakura himself gives with his own mouth and words; but that isn't what I'm concerned about. Perhaps my doubts are because I am afraid that I may not be able to look after a child and keep him safe from the possessiveness of the Ring and much less the country police and the rest of the world while he grows.

 

Bakura himself explained- without my own prying- that though he had managed to steal millions on ends in possessions, he'd anonymously given away bits and pieces of it to people who he considered to be like him or worst off- alone and without a family or just unfortunate- Orphanages more so than anything else. He was their guardian angel or so he liked to think. How comical- he was a kind murderer. Pardon the horrible oxymoron of a pun.

 

“Isis,” I called out from the kitchen to pause her sermon. I had to; at the sound of her rampage I could swear she has turned blue from lack of oxygen by now.

“…No-responsibility-whatsoever! Do-you-have-any-idea-to-what-the-poor-boy-is-going-through--- WHAT MARIK?!?!?!?!”

“Coffee or tea?”

“Don't you change the subject Mariku Caesar Sothic Ishtar!” Isis retorted shrieking slightly, rubbing her temples at the surfacing of a mind splitting migraine before speaking up again. “Um…Tea.”

 

I whimpered at the sound of my full name before complying and opening a satchel. Caesar…Ra…what were my parents thinking? It's not even Egyptian. -And for those playing at home, `Sothic' is from the Egyptian calendar, produced from the Greek word SÅthis, which in English is the `Dog Star' Sirius… Me likes, me likes a lot. I might as well be the jackal God Anubis- God's forgive me.

“How many cubes of sugar?…Isis Jacqueline Julie-Anne Osiris Ishtar. Yes…what were my parents thinking? -And for those playing at home! Osiris is the dead husband -bless his soul -of the Egyptian goddess Isis… Me find's weird, very weird.

A groan, but she replied, “…Three.”

 

Bakura was most probably fast asleep right now, having exhausted himself even more so with the conversations. I dare not bring in a doctor despite him being sick- It is a precaution, not because I do not want to. Once, Bakura mentioned something along the lines of faking his death; he possessed a poor man to cut Bakura himself and trail the blood to the end of a jetty (AKA Pier, dock, whatever). The man then threw Bakura into the deep green waters and hence “drowned” him…Graphic. Bakura would be dead if he hadn't planned on it all and thence disappeared into the shadow realm when in the water. No body found of course… Chances are his blood is in the record files some way or another. If the doctor wanted to bring him to the hospital and take a blood test…Would not a doctor be suspicious of a boy whose blood matches the blood of one who has been presumed dead?

 

I came back into the lounge room with the two drinks, giving Isis her tea and cupping black coffee in my hands as I sat next to her. She grimaced slightly and took a sip, relaxing into the aroma. “Ra that's better…”

“I think things will turn out alright,” I contemplated trying to ease Isis' anxiety, “We managed without our parents fine…I can't see why we can't say he was abandoned or something. If anything goes wrong I could just control them and wipe out their memories.”

“It seems impossible…” Isis murmured over her drink.

“I know…”

We paused for a moment, just quiet and pondering things, until I almost toppled out of my chair at the sudden disturbance.

 

“Marik? I'm hungry…”

 

I turned my head to the door and saw Bakura standing there, rubbing his eyes of sleep and looking much better after having rested. “I'm hungry.” He repeated.

 

Smiling, I coaxed him over and he complied still sleepily, side sitting on my lap so his legs hung on one side, and his still feverish yet much better rested head lied upon Isis' shoulder. He seemed too innocent- It was hard to believe he could be so evil. Maybe all he needed was a bit of love; maybe if he had been given a good extended family in the first place then he would not have been so drastic and run off like he did in the past. It was amazing all the things Bakura just opened up to, like as if it was all natural to tell someone you barely knew, that, your own aunt molested you…

 

“Hungry? Alright, what do you want to eat?” I asked him, untangling his hair with my fingers. I'd grown attached with him somehow; like another little brother or something. Yes, I already have a little brother- Malik. However Malik has always looked up to Isis more than I. It's nice to have someone who looks up to you no matter what kind of idiot you are, and that is how I think Bakura sees me as. Heh…or so I like to believe anyways.

 

-

 

It has been six months since that day…And as bizarre as it is, everything is just fine. Things have gone unsuspectingly well…Like as if any day any second now, everything will collapse and be destroyed in one moment. I'm actually expecting it, this change- this catalyst to occur. Sometimes just thinking about it blows my mind.

In general I can say that we've been successful. Sure, I had to do some illegal handling of controlling people to get them to change Bakura's identity, give him a new one, and get him an apartment in these flats… But despite everything, things are fine.

 

Firstly, perhaps I should some what introduce this Bakura. Full name: Bakura Akurai Kanika- an uncannily contrasting name if I might mention. He himself liked the letter `k' and so with an Egyptian to English dictionary in hand he came up with `Kanika' which in turn meant black. Maybe people will believe our little story of him being abandoned with us when we were in Egypt, to look after him, without Bakura remembering anything of his parents or his own name? I would like to hope it does work. As mentioned his name was one of contrast, and it is. I was the one who suggested the middle name of `Akurai'. In faulty senses it makes our little angel in disguise much more innocent.

 

Nevertheless we had made our way to Government hall for the files, changing Bakura's past identity- controlling and wiping out many a number of people and their recent memories of us on our way of course. Made a phone call to a random hospital in Cairo to get the nurse to add a fake baby birth ID; birth certificates, doctors, a certificate for a citizen of Cairo formerly, citizen of Japan presently…you name it. It had desperately tired me out, (Isis leaving all these sorts of tasks to me while she fed the boy- can you hint my jealousy?), and I found myself cursing for even helping the brat, before my conscience made me feel terribly guilty of course, forcing myself to continue. I dare not ask Bakura to use his ring to even help with wiping memories, in case of it possessing him again. Isis keeps it locked up in a chest in her room, until we can help him take `baby steps' in being more dominant of its control. Even I had been inspired to kill and slaughter as many people as I could- particularly the Pharaoh… But that's another story.

You ask of Isis- Of whether she can use her damned Necklace to help or not? Truthfully all it can do is tell the future. No help at all. Oh, and of course, look pretty on her neck.

 

We also managed to rent him a place in the Oldehack flats. The couple themselves are rather secretive about their own daughter, so when Isis and I asked the pair to allow Bakura a room- they asked no questions and showed nought suspicion. I didn't even need to control any of them.

So now, Bakura is free to move his things to his new room; however as his new “guardian”…I am entitled to looking after him until he is actually old enough to live there by himself. Until then, I live with him. It works out for me because I needed a place anyways.

 

There are times when Bakura feels that he is a burden to us- and that's when my conscience usually kicks in.
“You hate me don't you, Marik,” Bakura would ask miserable, his head bowed down to hide his face. Every time he found me frustrated or angry he would ask this same thing. And as mentioned, my conscience never fails to make me want to lesson his depression no matter how awful I feel.

“No! Never! I love you too much to let something like that stop me from helping you. How can you think of such a thing Bakura,” I would reply- every time; and he would look up at me relieved and I would ruffle his hair and hug him tightly, trying to keep my smile intact.

It's painful to always wear a mask; but what I say is partly true, I do love him too much.

 

I guess it is difficult to comprehend the situation at hand. Truthfully I have no idea regarding how we were even able to get away with such a task. But we did, for now.

And hopefully, maybe one day, he will look back on the situation and be grateful- hopefully. And hopefully, I will not look back with regrets about the decision made of helping Bakura out, and think myself a complete imbecile and dolt. Hopefully.

 

-

 

.: Third Person POV :.

 

Oldehack Flats, room number twenty-five, second floor up- is Bakura's flat room address. It was awkward for him to adjust to living in a `home' again, but having company in the form of Isis, Marik and Malik lessoned the dilemma of it. Sometimes though, the company of Isis would be confusing especially when she tried to teach Bakura the “morals of life”.

 

“What would you do if you were in a situation where someone is bullying you?”

“Um, what I would do?”

“Yes.”

“But Isis, why would they want to bully me in the first place?”

 

Isis sighed gently- not in exasperation but because she had never been in a situation where she had to teach a twelve, thirteen year old, the morals of life. How could poor Isis comprehend that children with their innocent notation could be so full of questions? Despite her trying she found it difficult, only slightly however as she much more hated the thought of taking on Marik's meagre tasks. For now, her patience could be kept composed as it has been for the past five months or so.

 

“Because they're mean, and they don't care about you or who you are. They just wish to fight with you because they think you're small enough for them to hit around.” Isis replied after the moment of agitation passed. “So what would you do if you are being bullied?”

“Hit them first?” Bakura replied cautiously. He frowned at Isis' groan and so attempted to correct himself, “Then run away?”

Isis shook her head. “Hitting other people isn't the right thing to do, Bakura.”

“But they're hitting me Isis.”

“Yes, but you would be bringing yourself down to their level if you hit them too.”

 

This is actually one of the most important tasks involved with helping Bakura. To change a child thief and murderer, the best medicine would be to teach him the morals so that he knows what is good and what is bad and so learn from his mistakes, and also a whole lot of TLC in general.

 

Bakura was quiet at that moment. Isis could see his brow bunched in concentration and knew herself that he was thinking about it. She smiled to herself, rather proud as she shifted her position on the couch.

It was only a few seconds or so more until Bakura's eyes lightened, like as if he'd just come up with the perfect answer to the situation. Isis waited his response eagerly, feeling very clever with herself. And so, Bakura tried again.

 

“I'd let them hit me, then I'll hit them back, and then run away,” Bakura replied proudly.

“…” If Isis had not been sitting she may as well had have fallen down at her shock. “B…I…W-What? Didn't you hear me say that hitting is wrong Bakura?” She stuttered to get the words out and sunk lower into the cushions both physically and in dismay.

“Yeh, I heard you Isis,” Bakura tried to reassure her, perplexed about her reaction.

“Then why say that…That you'd hit back?” Isis fanned herself as one does when close to fainting.

Bakura suddenly smiled, having realised her confusion and so again, for the third time, tried to correct himself. “I'm sorry Isis. I forgot to explain to you why.”

“Huh?” Isis had sunken so far into the couch that Bakura courteously slipped off and sat on the floor in front of her.

“O.K, um…” Bakura tugged at his ever growing hair as he `explained'. “I'd let the bullies hit me first- not so hard but I'd pretend to be weak and give them false impressions.”

Isis blinked but did not bother to utter anything.

“…That means that I'm going to have to shield myself first. Then, when their guard is down I'll hit them back- Out of protection. I'm not going to sink down to their level if I'm hitting out of defence. Like, I'd only hit them in their willies or shin so they stop hitting me. Then I'll run away.”

 

Isis again blinked, but out of surprise. The kid actually made sense and she was more pleasantly pleased that he was learning- in his own way and with his own perspectives. She'd forgotten what it was like to be a child.

 

Bakura continued. “If I don't do anything then, they'd just keep hitting me until I bled and had to go to hospital. It would be stupid if I didn't fight back and stupid if I fought back like one of them.” Pause. “And if they were talking mean things instead of fighting I wouldn't do the same and say bad things back. I would ignore them and be nice to confuse them. Then run away.”

Isis shifted her way back into a sitting position.

“And…And what would you do after Bakura?” Isis asked warily, not sure on what to think.

“Then I'd tell the teacher and my parents and friends so they can look out for me. Sometimes teachers and parents knowing will only make the bullies more mean. So I guess the bullies parents should know too.”

“Bakura…” Isis inclined gently.

“Yes Isis? Did I do something wrong again?” Bakura frowned.

“No! Not at all! I've just been surprised. I'm so proud of you Bakura.” Isis almost leapt at him, wrapping him up in a tight hug.

 

And of course, Isis had reasons to be proud. The five months had not been a complete waste and she was remembering what it was like to be free spirited again. Sometimes, the Millennium necklace took over all of the things in life, the surprises the fun and joy- especially if you are the oldest of three and received adult responsibilities at an early age.

 

“Th-Thank you,” Bakura stammered abashed. And he slowly wrapped his own small arms around her to hug back.

 

Warm and fuzzy…Like a memory, like home.

 

-

 

It hadn't taken long before Bakura had settled into his new “home”. Anything Bakura owned had been moved into the flats including gifts of furniture and appliances etc. from Marik and Isis. She had managed to secretly and anonymously return most of the stolen objects along with Marik's help, but with her new liking of Bakura, Isis allowed him to keep some of the materialistic things- clothes, books and jewellery of ordinary value, DVD's, CD's, a television, a radio, toys, blankets, pillows, and so on. He really did have his own lair in the Shadow Realm. What truly did belong to him though, from his past, were photos of his mother and father and other such memento's. Bakura had been mostly upset at the departure of his Anubis statue, but to ease the pain, Isis gave him her Scarab tiara. “It's better to give than to steal,” she told him smiling and had placed it into his hands without another word.

 

When Bakura and Malik first met, it was months back with Bakura cured of his illness and Malik on his school break. Isis hadn't been lying when she said Malik would also be there to look after Bakura. Both had been cautious of the other but soon they became good friends and could always be seen laughing and playing together like they are now. Bakura's hair had been tied back and up into two amusing pairs of pony tails by Malik, Malik receiving three low plaits from Bakura. With their faces hurting from laughing Isis declared that they needed to calm down and so had the pair helping her bake a cake in the small kitchen of Bakura's home. Thus instead of their faces hurting from laughing, their faces were now hurting from laughing and secretly eating the cake mix as well as having their whole bodies extraordinarily dusted with flour.

This eventually came to somewhat an end where both boys had exhausted themselves enough to settle down on the kitchen chairs. Bakura licked the white mixture from his fingers as he patiently waited for the chime of the oven bell declaring the ready consumption of the cake. Malik had managed to attain both the bowl and spoon, to Isis' dismay at the thought of washing both boys up.

Isis also frowned upon the boys becoming hyper again but it was at that ironic moment that Marik decided to make an entrance. At least she would get some form of help in settling them again…or so she hoped.

 

“Honey's, I'm home!” He hollered to the household, closing the door behind as he entered with an un-needed, dramatic “Flintstones” entry.

“Marik!” Bakura exclaimed happily and, sticky fingers and all, he jumped onto Marik to give him a welcome hug, the flour dusting up into the air again.

“Mother of fu-…er…fah…flah…fluffy…hell,” Marik half exclaimed in surprise as he toppled onto his back, only just remembering not to swear lest he wanted another lecture, “Why hello to you too Bakura,”

 

Bakura purred as he received a hair ruffling, before civilly crawling off from on top of Marik and let him stand, to which Marik did. “Marik! I made Isis proud today! And- and- I learnt something worthwhile!” He beamed.

“Oh? Really now?” Marik smiled back, looking over Bakura's flour covered self and then to his own freshly floured face and clothing before responding with a wink. “She's going to have to teach you some manners though.”

Bakura feigned a gasp before replying cheekily, “Manners? Me? Never! Besides…You don't use manners…Marik…san…”

“But that's `cause I'm older than you,” Marik retorted back child-like with a laugh.

Bakura grinned like the Cheshire cat before continuing, “Does that mean when I'm old I can swear as much as I want?”

Marik laughed again, and gestured to Isis who was checking on the cake while whispering, “Unless you want a lecture from the old woman,”

“Ewww!” Bakura put on a disgusted face before running back to join Malik who was helping Isis bring out the cake.

“Eh? I heard that Marik!” Isis scolded, cutting the cake into even pieces.

“Yeh, yeh…” Shaking the lecture away, he cocked his head to the smell of vanilla and sugar and wondered who could have possibly made such a delicious smell. Isis was a horrible cook to say the least, and the only one in the Ishtar family who had even some form of cooking skill was Marik himself.

 

“Isis? Who made the cake?” Marik asked, his face showing surprise when he found that the cake didn't taste too bad.

Isis smirked and waved her hand proudly, “I did,”

Marik choked on his cake laughing, thumping his chest to calm himself down. “You did?! Never!”

Bakura and Malik looked back and fourth from Isis to Marik, eating cake while amused as the “oldies” had their brawl.

“But I did! Ask Malik,”

Malik blinked and looked up at the mention of his name, pausing with his teeth half sunk into cake, “Huh?”

“See!” Isis waited until Marik diverted his attention to Malik, before flicking a box of “Betty's Home-made -Do it yourself” cakes off the counter behind her and into the bin.

“Baka…” Marik laughed as he looked up in time to see Isis do so, mocking a reply, “Besides sister dear, it seems you have mixed the icing mixture with the cake mixture as well. That's why it's so squashy and why it tastes so sweet,”

Isis blinked and looked at the two empty packets, one of which had been labelled “Betty's `do it yourself' Icing”. “Oh…”

Winking, Marik popped the rest of the cake into his mouth eating it none the less to spite her, “Let us just hope it hasn't been poisoned…”

Bakura and Malik gasped in unison, fabricated shock on their faces, “Poisoned? Eww!”

“Baka…” Isis scorned back, whacking the head of a laughing Marik.

“…And the one and only,” He laughed deeply.

 

-

 

Now that Bakura's past problems had lessoned to a minimum, Marik could actually laugh again; and it was good to laugh again. Time had made his features slightly gaunt from not eating and stressing over the situation. Hopefully, it would not go to waste.

 

Why would Marik even bother to such an extent of wasting himself and helping Bakura out so much? The truth lies inside Marik, where the mask he wears of continually being happy and strong-headed is but only some of the things that reside in his heart. In fact, even Marik isn't able to understand it. Perhaps pondering in his new room, listening to “Placebo” with a nice hot cup of tea would clear his mind and help him to understand why he bothered with Bakura? -and this he also did with a sketch book to sketch random thoughts in. Marik doubted “doing it because it's the right thing” as the reason behind all this, and one of his favourite rock bands would surely let him unwind.

 

Once settled in his bed, he had been in the process of sipping his tea when of course- Marik was ironically interrupted by Bakura entering the room at an abrupt manner.

Entering the room, unclothed except for his boxers actually; And Bakura must have noticed Marik's shocked gaze because he paused suddenly, eyes wide.

“Oh…Sorry.” Bakura muttered embarrassed and ran out again, closing the door lightly with him, not really offering an explanation about why he was running about half naked. It was a few muffled voices and shout of surprise later before Malik too, fell into the room.

“Um…Sorry niisan,” Marik blurted before quickly leaving, his own reaction similar to Bakura's.

 

“Oh…That's…nice,” Marik murmured out his reply to the both of them, but quietly so it was mainly to himself, not really intending for it to be heard. What is it with little boys running about half naked when they got together?

 

“Isis?” He enquired just as Isis consequently, entered the room.

“Yes Marik?”

“Why are the boys running around half naked?”

“Truth or Dare,”

“Ah…”

“And I just wanted to let you know that I'll be leaving Marik here for a sleep over… So you'll be by yourself to look after them tonight- just until Bakura is alright here. And then the next days after with just Bakura…Now that everything's settled.”

Pause. “I'd forgotten about that…”

“Yeah, I thought you would so I'm here to remind you,” Isis smiled with a wink, “Good luck and I'll see you tomorrow- I'll pick up Malik. Plus we have to assign Bakura home schooling so he can catch up. Smart as he is he's missed out on a lot.”

“Yeah…” Marik replied absently.

“Is that all?”

“Bye-bye Isis and good riddance,”

“Now there's the Marik I know! I was beginning to think you were lost for a second there,”

“Mmh…”

“There's something wrong…”

“No, nothing is,”

“What's wrong Marik?”

“Nothing…”

“You know you can tell me…”

“Yeah…I know, Isis,”

Pause.

“I'm serious Isis; don't look at me like that. Nothing is wrong.”

Pause.

 

Isis must have been hiding her annoyance with his taciturn for quite a while because she unexpectedly snapped, “You. You chose this you know- looking after him. Don't try and put the blame on me, I can't always look after you,”

“I know Isis,” Marik replied coldly, “Don't you think I know that! Don't you think that perhaps I don't understand why I even decided to do this in the fucking first place?”

“Oh Marik…I'm sorry, I lost myself, I didn't mean to-…”

“For Ra's sake Isis! I don't even know what I'm doing with myself! But no! I'm sick of always needing to go to you for help. Don't you know already that I regret buying Erotica? I don't want to fucking Ra regret looking after the brat too! There are so many things that I could have done with my life. So many things Isis, so many things! Think of what I could have done with all that fucking money? But instead of investing in Ra know what I decided to fucking go on with that fucking bet of yours and buy that damn it piece of building shit! Maybe then I wouldn't have met the brat and would have lived on happily, without care- like I used to. It was so much fun back then Isis, so much fun. But it's all changed now hasn't it? Hasn't it!?”

Isis backed away as Marik smashed his fist against the wall to his side, his breathing erratic. “Don't you think I know all that already?”

“I do Marik,” Isis replied hurt and yet icily in return, “I'm sorry, I had to be born first,”

And she flew from the room, slamming the door after her as she left room number twenty-five.

 

In his agitation Marik began slamming his left arm against the wall repetitively. It's all your fault… Slam! All your fucking fault… Slam! All your gawd damn fucking fault Marik! SLAM! Break it, damn it. Break it! Are you that thick!? Break it!

 

“Do you really think that, Marik-san?” A hushed voice from the corridor asked.

Breathing heavily Marik looked quickly over to the doorway, expecting Isis but his eyes showing Bakura instead.

 

Bakura looked over at Marik who was trying to catch his breath, veins looking like they were about to pop out of his skin. Since when were his eyes so piercingly violet? So…So scaringly violet? Since when have they ever glowed that darkly?

 

“Bakura…” Marik gestured out to him, reaching his hand over so that he may close the now distancing relationship gap between them and stroke his hair; but that did not happen. Bakura flinched away before Marik could even touch him, his eyes empty and cold like they had been oh so long ago.

 

“Bakura?” Marik's voice quivered, his throat parched at the thought that Bakura no longer trusted him. Bakura turning his back to him, and walking away did absolute nought to help ease this new terror. It was the breaking, the parting and forgetting of his relationship to Marik.

 

Bakura?...

 

Silence.

 

-----

 

Sorry about swapping and reminiscing time frames…u_u -sweat drop-

Well…go on, read the next chapter.