Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Gorgeous Carat (YGO version) ❯ The Dragon of Maghreb Part 9 ( Chapter 16 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

“Just what the bloody hell happened to him!” shouted the white haired man as he stared at the boy slumped against the wall, his amethyst eyes staring blankly at nothing.
“Noir!” chastised Malik as he attempted to apply ointment on the singed flesh of Noir’s chest. “Sit still or I won’t treat you!”
“So what?! Will you look at him!”
Sugoroku looked at the petit boy pityingly, having become used to his sullen demeanor. “Poor lad. He’s been like that since we’ve found him. He can’t remember a thing, not even his name.”
“$^*^!!” the thief swore more from anger than the chill of the salve, clenching his fist. “I just can’t believe this! What’s going on here?! He saved me back there and now…”
“Hmm…” the old man mused, placing a hand on his chin, “It looks like the shock of having actually shot someone may have caused him retreat deeper into his mind.”
“Bakura!” Malik protested as the man shot from his seat and stomped over to the catatonic boy.
He slapped then shook Yugi in a desperate attempt to snap him out of it. “Look at me, damn it!!” he demanded, “What is wrong with you?! Say something damn it! Yugi!”
“Stop it!” ordered Atem, grabbing the thief’s arm as he made to strike the boy again.
“Get your paws off me!” snarled Noir, “I’m going to make that brat snap out of it.”
“That’s enough, Bakura,” the detective warned, grabbing the man’s other arm and pinning them to his sides. Noir continued to thrash about, desperate to get to Yugi.
“Hey!” yelled Malik, “Just what are you doing?! That’s an injured man!”
“Sorry Malik,” Atem apologized loosening the hold slightly.
“Noir… you ok?” Malik asked, reaching out to the slightly taller man.
“Don’t touch me!” snarled the thief, staggering as he rose. “$^*^!!!” he cursed as his other injuries threatened to reopen themselves. “Damn it all!” he spat, forced to slump against the wall and sit against it.
‘Noir...’ the blond said silently, hating how helpless he felt.
“Have patience boy,” Sugoroku said pityingly, “Being impatient just makes you worry too much. I’m sure the boy will come back once he’s sorted things out for himself. After all you used to be like that weren’t you?”
Malik’s lilac eyes dimmed in sadness. He remembered the few times when the white haired thief had mumbled in his sleep, revealing things he’d wished he never had heard. One of them being that he had once been an addict himself.
“Just have faith lad,” Sugoroku said, patting Noir’s shoulder.

“Ah!” Malik cried in surprise when the white haired man jerked awake. The Egyptian had been reapplying the ointment to Noir’s singed flesh, all the while concern written all over his bronzed face at the thief’s silence.
“Malik?” he asked, blinking. When had he drifted off?!
“Oh thank the gods!” the blond cried, letting out a sigh of relief. “I… I thought you’ve wound up like…Yugi. Do me a favor; DON’T ever stare off like that again! I can’t stand all this pain by myself!”
“Ow!” Noir shouted as he suddenly found himself in a bronze and gold vise. “For crying out loud, Malik, quit being such a baby! I’m not gonna disappear on you,” he said, cupping the blond’s cheek. “Now let me talk to grandpa, ok?”
The blond nodded his head, sniffling as he released his master and helped him up.
“You’re going to Tunisia?!” Sugoroku queried after listening to his former charge’s plans. “Why?”
“I don’t want to cause you anymore trouble,” Noir replied solemnly, “The longer we’re here, the longer you’ll be at risk. We may have gotten rid of Ezhdar, but it isn’t over. And besides, I’d like to see for myself what caused all this mess – the secret treasure of the Knights Templar!”
“Well, don’t expect me to foot the bill,” groused Atem, “I don’t exactly have that much cash on me.”
“Oh don’t worry,” sniped the taller man, “I’m not gonna ask a broke gumshoe like you anyway.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Thanks for all you’ve done, grandpa,” Noir said holding out a hand to the old man.
“You want money?!” the old man grumbled.
“It’s a handshake old man,” the thief replied, chuckling, “Just a handshake.”
Taken aback by the gesture, Sugoroku stood silent for several moments before accepting the proffered appendage and shaking it warmly. “May you have a long life, my boy – not that you need me to say it. You’re as tough as a cockroach.” The last part was muttered under the old man’s breath as they started gathering their things and leaving with the still catatonic Yugi. The spiky haired detective, however, chose to remain for a bit.
“Either I’m getting old or that brat’s really grown,” he said more to himself than anyone else.
“I bet he was a real terror, ne?” Atem inquired, chuckling before taking a sip of his almost forgotten tea.
“You’ve no idea,” replied the old man, smiling at the memories, “I thought you’d be leaving with them.”
“I was only here by chance,” he replied taking another sip, “I think I’ll go chasing after Ezhdar for a bit longer.”
“But isn’t he dead?”
“I heard a rumor that he was part of a much bigger organization. I need to find out the truth.”
“And if you do, what good will it do you? He’s dead.”
The spiky haired man’s eyes narrowed in anger, hate, and regret as he remembered his reason for becoming a private detective. “I have… had…a sister, Miho. She and my best friend were murdered by those bastards! I need to find out why they did it. I still believe that Ezhdar was part of all this somehow.”
“The ‘Black Hand’,” the old man said as he went to pour his guest more ‘Moroccan Whiskey.’ (1) Atem’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. “I’m sure that’s what they call themselves.”

Tangiers…
“Master Ryou,” the maid said, approaching the white haired boy, “There’s a telegraph for you.”
“Oh? From who?” the boy asked, looking away from the Matisse painting he’d been admiring.
“Um… well… that is… it’s from Count Bakura Balzac de Courland,” she stammered, knowing full well about the cousins’ strained relationship.
‘Bakura,’ he said silently, none too happy about hearing from his less than reputable relative.
“He says he’ll be in Tangiers today, that he wants to be picked up at the train station. Um… shall we ignore him sir?”
“No, he’ll just annoy me further if I do. Have someone pick him up,” he replied, grimacing slightly. The maid nodded and went to relay her master’s orders. He called after her as she was about to disappear, causing her to pause mid step. “Why don’t we pick him up in my new Rolls?” he said with a mischievous smirk, “Let’s remind him how generous I can be.” The maid nodded again and left to obey.

Later that day…
“Ah there you are Noir!” Malik called as he ran up to the white haired man. “There’re so many people here! I thought I lost you back there. Anyway, let’s get out of here, ne?”
Just as they made it to the train station’s exit, a very flashy Rolls Royce pulled up in front of them. The Egyptian stared in awe at the obviously expensive automobile.
“Ah, you must be Count Bakura Balzac du Courland,” the driver said after getting out and opening the door for them. “Master Ryou sent me to pick you up.”
“Thank you,” the thief said curtly before adding under his breath, “Damned brat, he had to send the gold one did he?”
“Psst, Noir,” Malik asked eyeing the car disdainfully, “What’s with the kitchy car?”
“Just shut up and get in,” he ordered shoving the blond in.
“This thing belongs to your cousin?!” Malik asked as they drove away from the train station. “The one that’s got that shipping business and took the guys back to Paris?!”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Noir replied frowning at the gold covered plush seats.
The two remained silent during the remainder of the trip to Tangiers’ docks. Malik stared pleasantly surprised when they stopped at a tastefully looking ship. Glancing at his master, he could see that the man was equally relieved at the less than flashy boat.
“Bakura, so good to see you!” called a slightly shorter looking version of the thief as they were ushered onto the ship. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Noir didn’t miss the veiled annoyance his cousin had hidden in his tone.
‘Oh my!’ Malik mused staring at the two pale haired men. ‘They could be twins!’
“I’m happy to see you too, Ryou,” Bakura replied, barely managing to hide his disdain at the younger one’s fashion sense. The man was dressed in the latest Parisian fashion, a style which the thief found to be much too flashy for his much more refined tastes. It unnerved him to no end to see his look-a-like cousin dressed in such flashy clothes and Ryou knew it – which is why he did it, just to get his goat.
“You don’t seem happy,” quipped Ryou, “You’ve yet to look me in the eye. You’re being rude! And just look at you! What’s with the shabby attire? But then, what should I expect since you sent your ring to use as collateral for a ride. Just what have you been up to?!”
“Nothing you need to know, kid,” the thief said in a tone that left no room for objection.
“Of course I need to know!” snapped the younger of the two albinos, “Whatever it is you’re doing, it’s dirtying our family name! Isn’t usury enough?! You may have graduated at the top of the University, but must you insist on acting like a common ruffian?” Noir turned to glare at his cousin, who just ignored it, having been used to the older man’s idle threats. “I tell you it’s just not fair!” Ryou went on, “I just can’t believe a usurer like you is of higher rank than me! It’s just too humiliating!”
“Oh, is that so?” retorted Noir, “Then I guess it was some other cousin named Bakura who leant you money during the Great War.”
Ryou stopped in mid rant, his mouth opening and closing like a fish’s. “That… I’ll pay you back! Someday…”
The white haired thief smirked; glad to have hit a mark with his cousin. “You should know our family’s credo, cousin. ‘Once indebted to the noble Courland house, it won't be forgotten throughout your entire life.’ It seems you’ve been using that a lot, haven’t you?”
“Y-You cad! Just what are you getting me into now?!”
“Don’t get your knickers in a bunch, Ryou,” Noir replied grinning, “I just want you to take us to Tunisia. That’s it.”
“I’ll not be part of any of crimes you’ve got going,” the younger albino said, eyeing the person wrapped in a dark cloak and huddling near his taller cousin.
“It’s nothing like that Ryou!” the thief insisted, “I’m just calling in a favor.”
“Hmph! As if,” snapped the shorter, “Either take that suspicious hood of or I’ll dump you lot into the Mediterranean!” He then shot forward and made to pull the figure’s hood down.
“Hey!” shouted Malik, “Just what do you think you’re doing!” the blond snatched the smaller albino’s wrist only to have Ryou yank it away sharply.
“Shut up you servant!” He forcefully pulled the cloth from the figure’s head and gasped, unable to tear himself from the dazed eyes of the spiky haired boy. ‘S-Such deep, amethyst eyes!’ he said, forcing himself to look away.
“I can’t believe it!” the shorter cousin yelled, raising a hand to strike the thief. However, Noir deftly and quickly grabbed it in a vise like grip. “You’d sink so low as to sell people?! Y-You bloody bastard!”
“Shut. Up. Ryou,” Noir commanded, his eyes narrowing into smoldering pools of dark chocolate. His cousin gulped, trembling at the man’s sudden and unusual anger. “You’re jumping to conclusions again. That,” he pointed to the spiky haired boy, “is the head of the Mutou family. You know as well as I do, that him and us are distant cousins, don’t you want to help out a relative that’s feeling ill?”
‘Is that boy really a Mutou?!’ he pondered. “Are you telling me the truth, Bakura?” If he was, that would mean he’d get a major boost to his reputation as well as a possible boost to his already massive financial position – the Mutous were very influential after all.
“Of course I am,” his cousin replied, “This is Yugi. Yugi du Mutou to be precise, and the last of the Mutou family, who has ties to the kings of France themselves I might add.”
Malik shot his master a look that implied ‘is it safe to tell him all that?’
Noir pulled the blond aside for a moment and whispered in his ear. “I had to, Malik. Otherwise Ryou’d never let us stay on his precious ship. You see, my oh-so-dear cousin is quite prejudiced. He’s the type to always judge a book by its cover or people by their rank in society.”
“That’s disgusting!” the Egyptian hissed in reply.
“Oh I do apologize!” Ryou said latching onto the boy’s arm; it was obvious he was seeing franc signs. “Don’t you worry about a thing; I’ll make sure you get the best of everything. Anything for a lovely amethyst, right Bakura?”
“They’re definitely related,” Malik whispered as he watched poor Yugi be ushered deeper into the bowels of the ship by the status obsessed albino.
“Don’t. Ever. Say. That. Again,” Noir said icily. He always hated being compared to his look-a-like. “I’m nothing like him and you know it, Malik!”

“Now this is what I call a luxury cruise!” the blond said after letting out an appreciative whistle after admiring the rich décor of their cabins.
Noir just ignored the excited Egyptian, preferring instead to cuddle the catatonic Yugi. There was a knock on the cabin’s door and Malik, since had nothing else to do, opened it. To their surprise several servants barged in carrying boxes. “Master Ryou wishes for you to wear these and to and to attend tonight’s gala,” one of the servants said, placing his package on the king sized, gold sheeted bed.
“Tch, just like that brat,” Noir muttered as the servants left, “Won’t stand having his ‘guests’ looking shabby.”
The blond let out another whistle after having opened up one of the boxes. “These are the latest fashions from home! Just how rich is that guy?!” His lilac eyes bugged out at a particular piece of clothing in another box that must have been meant for him.
Sighing, the thief began to undress the catatonic boy. Seeing that his master no longer had any time for him, Malik discretely snuck out and headed back to his own cabin, but not without giving the preoccupied albino a sad look.
“Now for the other foot,” the thief said, gingerly guiding Yugi’s foot into the leg of the silk tuxedo trousers. “You’re a pain you know that? Malik?” Glancing around for the Egyptian, he saw that the rest of the stateroom was empty. “Guess I’ll have to do this without his help,” he muttered as he continued to dress Yugi in the expensive tux his oh-so-generous cousin had provided.
Outside in the hall, Malik leant against the wall, feeling confused and rather lonely at the moment. ‘Ever since Yugi’s been like this, Noir won’t leave his side,’ he thought gloomily. “Even if he did want me around, it’d just be way too awkward for me anyway.”
“Why haven’t you changed yet?” Ryou asked, coming from his own stateroom. Their host was now dressed in a powder blue and white tux that appeared to be a tad lash flashy as the other suit he’d worn earlier. “Didn’t my servants deliver something for you too?”
“Monsieur Ryou?! I thought you weren’t coming,” Malik said genuinely surprised.
“Yes, well,” the albino said blushing slightly, “Bakura isn’t the only one who’s worried about Monsieur Mutou. Besides, this just happens to be the perfect time for a vacation, n’est-ce-pas?”
“If that’s why you’re here,” Malik said eyeing him warily, “Then you needn’t worry, Bakura’s more than capable of taking care of Yugi. There’s no reason for you to stay behind.”
“Hmph!” Ryou huffed indignantly, “I think you should go change now or you’ll be late for the party. Masters should not wait for their servants.”
‘What a jerk!’ the blond muttered to himself. “Well, there’s a slight problem with that,” Malik shot back, “The stuff you gave me is a bit way too feminine for me.”
Ryou stared at him for a few seconds before what the blond had said finally clicked. “Y-You’re a guy?! Oh my! How foolish of me!”
‘Noir wasn’t kidding when he said this brat judges books by their covers.’
“Please allow me to apologize,” Ryou pleaded, “I shall lend you one of my finest suits. You and I appear to be the same size so, I’m sure it’d be the perfect fit for you.”
“I’m fine the way I am,” protested Malik. He was rather found of his Arabian style clothing; he always thought it went well with his bronze skin. “Besides this is way more comfortable,” he said indicating his present outfit. With that, Malik went back to check on Noir.
A short while later, Ryou’s soiree was just getting underway, the passengers were currently milling around the ballroom gossiping, catching up with old acquaintances, or strengthening their financial and political connections.
“My!” cried one woman staring at the handsome white haired man leaning sulkily against one wall next to a spiky haired boy sitting quietly on velvet upholstered chair. “Is that THE Count Courland?!”
Upon hearing her surprised shock, a man a few feet away turned and glared at the sulking albino. “What’s that corrupt loan shark doing here?” he whispered to his friend.
“I heard he was half Arabian,” gossiped another woman to her companion.
“I heard that was why his mother was disowned by the Courland family,” he whispered back in disdain.
“Then how in Heaven’s name did he wind up with the title of Count?!” she hissed back.
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Malik said, glaring at the gossipers from the opposite side of the room; his eyes never leaving the two wall flowers on the other side.
“Not having fun, Bakura?” Ryou sneered at his gloomy cousin.
“You got what I wanted,” the thief snapped, “I showed up didn’t I? Yugi and I are going back to our rooms.”
“I don’t mind,” the shorter albino quipped, “as long as you don’t forget where you really stand in our society. You worry too much anyway, cousin. The way I see it the more slander about you, the easier it’d be for you to worm your way into society.”
Noir glared at his cousin, but chose not to say anything further. He then placed a gentle hand on Yugi’s shoulder. “Sorry to have put you through this,” he said to the still catatonic boy, “Let’s head back.” When the boy made no response, the white haired man wrapped an arm around Yugi’s shoulders and started to help him to stand. The spiky haired boy teetered and began to fall onto the heavily polished wood floor.
“Easy!” Malik cried, rushing over to help, “You still haven’t healed enough, Noir! Do you want those wounds to reopen?” Noir sighed, but allowed the blond to help him get Yugi into his arms.
“This is the second time I’ve carried you like this,” the thief whispered in Yugi’s ear, “You sure are a handful for a spoiled brat.” He then proceeded to take his amethyst back to their room.
“The nerve!” spat Ryou, his feathers ruffled. “I go through all that to throw a proper party for Monsieur Yugi and he acts so rudely.” Malik’s lilac eyes hardened into twin icebergs as he strode over to the albino. Scant seconds later, there was a resounding slap as the Egyptian’s hand made contact with pale skin.
“Monsieur Ryou!!!” one of his many ‘admirers’ shouted in anger.
“Seize that disgusting Arab barbarian!!!!” demanded another.
The blond slapped away the many arms attempting to grab a hold of him and stomped over to their host who was still holding his rather sore cheek. “You know NOTHING about Yugi!” he screamed in utter disgust. “You’re the one who’s been acting rude! You ought to think about why Bakura’s forsaking his pride like this and not saying a word against you!” Ryou could only stare at the irate blond; no one had ever spoken to him in such a way as that Egyptian had. ‘I know you’ve been keeping it from me, but I can see you’re trying to atone for what happened to Yugi. That… and your past with Ezhdar,’ he thought forlornly. “I don’t know much about this class rank crap, but what I do know is that you’re the WORST human being I’ve ever known!”
Fearing he’d let his anger get the better of him, the blond then stomped off for Noir and Yugi’s cabin.
“W-Wait!” Ryou called, but Malik was already halfway there by then.

A while later, Noir had decided a bit of fresh sea air would do them both some good. He wasn’t sure if his spiky haired companion had been aware of what was going on around him, but he was doubly sure that what they’d been forced to endure earlier was most definitely not the best thing for a couple recovering men; one of them practically being an invalid.
“You tired?” he asked, stroking Yugi’s surprisingly soft hair, “I know you get seasick, but don’t worry. We’ll be on Tunisian land by the day after tomorrow. Did you know that Tunisia’s famous for the Maghreb, ancient Roman ruins all lined up everywhere facing the beautiful Mediterranean? You’ll like it, the chalk white walls and the brilliant blue of the sea give it all a serene feeling.”
The thief’s eyes widened in joyous shock as one petit hand reached out for his. Smiling the white haired man, clasped it gently as they continued to gaze out at the nighttime sea.

“Who’s there?!” demanded Sugoroku upon hearing a noise coming from the entrance of his home.
“Grandpa,” a tall, one eyed brunet said with mock sweetness, “Where is Bakura?”

(1) Moroccan Whiskey isn’t whiskey at all it’s a really sweet mint tea or so I’ve heard.
(2) World War I in case any of you are wondering.
(3) The Arabic name given to the area of northern Africa consisting of Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia.

Pein: I think I’m in love.
Sakura: Like I told Ita-kun, Pein-dono, I’m not joining the Akatsuki so give it up already. I apologize to all you Ryou fans out there for making him such a bastard. Anyhoo, lemme know whatcha think, ne minna?