Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ How to Save a Life ❯ How It Was: Two ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

How to Save a Life

- Chapter Two-

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Malik's home was lavish, to put it simply. Ryou allowed himself to gape openly as he stepped inside the complex's top floor apartment. He felt as if he'd just entered one of those penthouses that were usually shown on television - the ones celebrities used as their vacationing homes. He looked around, admiring the interior design.

The walls were sponge painted a rich golden yellow, reminding the teen of desert sands. The strong scent of exotic incense permeated the rooms. Unlit, rectangular lavender candles were spread about randomly. There was a small carpeted staircase consisting of three steps that led down to the living room which, from where Ryou stood, he could see contained a brown leather couch and a decent sized television set. Directly ahead of where they stood was the kitchen, furnished with dark wooden cabinets and granite countertops. To the left there was a narrow hallway, most likely lined with doors leading to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

“You... you live here?” he gasped, amazed.

Malik nodded as he took of his boots and drenched socks. Ryou hurriedly followed his example, leaving his wet shoes and socks by the door to dry, and then wiping his bare feet on the matt by the door.

"Sure do,” Malik replied, “but just until I got back to Egypt--" He abruptly stopped, lilac eyes darting to the ground, which he studied as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

Ryou caught on, his disappointment shining through as he realized Malik wouldn't be living in Domino for very long. He had been hoping that he might actually have a friend who stayed with him for once.

“...I rented this only for a month... So when August rolls around I have to be out of here. I'll be going back to Egypt,” he explained, voice dripping with guilt and regret.

Why would he stay? He has no reason to, the white-haired teen thought, a strange gloom settling in the pit of his stomach.Almost everyone in town has labeled him a bad guy or a cheater. Besides, he has is life in Egypt to go back to. He has family there - a life there.. He has no reason to stay in Domino...

Ryou sighed, wondering why the thought of Malik leaving made him so depressed. A month... that's so soon. I was hoping to at least get to know him, but I have hardly any time.

Brown orbs blinked as the albino realized that the other was talking again. Malik smiled over at him, pointing to the hallway.

“Make yourself at home, Ryou,” he was saying. "My room is the first door on the left. Feel free to borrow something to wear, if you like. I doubt it's very comfortable in those soaked clothes. I'll be in the shower."

Watching as his companion left to take a shower, Ryou followed the directions and entered the first room on the left. The room was spacious, as he figured it might be, and the closet was large enough for him to actually walk in.

“I don't even know where to start,” he laughed to himself as he stared at the array of shirts and pants of all different styles and colors before him. Reaching out, he fingered the material of the shirt closest to him. “I guess it doesn't really matter.”

He plucked a plain navy T-shirt from a hanger and held it up to his chest. It seemed that all of Malik's shirts were around the same length - cut off to reveal a person's midriff. Sighing, Ryou figured he'd just go with it for now. He took a pair of khaki pants out of the closet as well and set them on the bed; then he quickly changed.

After he was dressed, he stared at himself in the full-length mirror. It only took him several seconds to decide that he definitely did not look as good as Malik would have in the clothes.

He decided to occupy himself by inspecting the rest of the Egyptian's room while Malik was still in the shower. He thumbed through some of the other shirts in the wardrobe, unable to keep from laughing as he noticed that his friend actually possessed more than one pink shirt. Growing bored of the closet, he moved on to wandering around the room, observing the little knick-knacks that decorated the room. A golden statuette of some Egyptian deity on the bedside table caught his attention, and he picked it up, looking it over with peaked interest before eventually losing interest and replacing it.

Malik should be done by now, he figured, going over to the door. He probably needs to change.

Placing his hand on the doorknob, he turned and pulled the door open, about to exit the room -- only to be knocked to the floor by the force of someone running into him.

"Ow!"

Ryou winced, opening his eyes and looking up to see none other than Malik standing over him. Chocolate-brown eyes swept over the dark-skinned other, taking in the fact that Malik was still donned in nothing but a towel, which was wrapped loosely around his waist. Ryou's face heated up as he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the other's damp chest, watching as several water droplets dripped from the wet blonde hair and fell slowly down the other's sun-kissed skin.

Ryou wished for a moment that he could be any of those water droplets.

“R-Ryou!” Malik gasped, breaking the albino from his daze. “Oh, jeez, I'm so sorry! A-are you okay?” he asked, bending over and reaching out his hand to help his friend to his feet.

Ryou just stared at Malik's hand for a moment, his expression slightly baffled. He couldn't believe how bad his luck was. Or could this be considered good luck? Judging alone by how warm his body felt just by seeing Malik in his towel, the albino guessed it was a bit of both. His heart ached with a longing for... something. What that something was Ryou didn't know, but he had a feeling it had something to do with Malik and himself being completely naked.

But... I-it isn't right. I can't be thinking about him like this. I barely even know him. And I'm sure he doesn't have any similar feelings towards me. He definitely can't... Besides, it could never work out, he told himself, trying to shake the not-so-innocent images from his usually clean mind. He's leaving soon. We could never have a relationship - at least, one that lasts... and I want one that lasts.

Shaking his head, Ryou tried to push the thoughts aside. He grabbed Malik's hand, flashing him a smile of thanks, and tugged on the Egyptian's hand to try and push himself up.

The effort seemed to have the opposite effect, however, for instead of getting himself in a standing position, pulling on Malik's arm like that only managed to bring the Egyptian down on top of him, landing them in a rather compromising position.

Ryou sucked in his breath, closing his eyes tightly and trying to ignore the fact that one of his legs was wedged between Malik's legs. He was pretty sure his pale face was on fire. The albino tried to move his leg to free it, but stopped as his knee brushed against the Egyptian's `personal area' and he heard Malik gasp in surprise.

They stayed like that for several moments, both blushing furiously and yet making no move to stand. After a while, Malik seemed to get a hold of himself and hastily scrambled to his feet.

“I'm sorry!” he apologized, clutching the towel around his waist, which had slipped down slightly during the fall. “Are you okay?”

Ryou nodded his head and stood up, knees wobbling beneath him and threatening to give out. He took several breaths and calmed himself down. Millions of thoughts swarmed in his mind, all of which revolved around the fact that he enjoyed the feeling of Malik lying on top of him like that.

Ryou mentally slapped himself for even thinking such things. He hadn't known that the small, barely even noticeable physical attraction he held for the Egyptian would multiply to an immeasurable degree in a little more than an hour. What possessed him to agree to have dinner with Malik in the first place? Ryou should have known luck was never this good to him. Whatever deity was up there was just toying with the albino now - dangling Malik right in front of him and, once Ryou tried to get close enough, yanking him away.

It won't last. Nothing can happen between us... Even if I DID feel something down there -- it was probably just my imagination playing a trick on me -- but even if he DID have some kind of feelings towards me, nothing could happen. He's going back to Egypt, and I'm going to be here.

Ryou brushed imaginary dirt off of himself.

"I'm f-fine," he whispered, face still very red. "Sorry... I didn't mean to p-pull you down like that. I don't know my own strength sometimes," he attempted to joke.

The blonde cracked a smile, giving a small nod and clearing his throat. "...Um, I-I see you found some clothes," he commented, looking Ryou up and down, eyes shining in approval.

“Y-Yeah. Thanks for letting me borrow them,” Ryou said as he looked down at himself, a shy smile appearing on his face. He still felt a little weird wearing Malik's clothes. Not to mention, he felt awkward with his midriff showing; he had always been self-conscious about his body - no wonder his other half called him 'woman' a lot.

"Well, uh, I think it would be time I got some, too." Malik laughed, trying to make the best out of the awkward moment. "Make yourself at home in the living room. Take a load off-- feel free to watch some TV or turn on some music.”

With that said, the Egyptian backed up into his room, careful not to show his back to the other boy, something which Ryou found rather peculiar.

The albino shrugged it off and made his way into the living room, stopping to admire some books placed on a shelf, and then plopped on the couch. The remote was placed on the coffee table, and he picked it up, flipping the channels until he saw a movie about surfing. Ryou paused a moment, staring at the screen. There was a close-up of the surfer - a blonde-haired, blue-eyed guy. But the guy really wasn't what Ryou was thinking about. It was just the blonde hair, which was cut in a fashion like Malik's.

Ryou sighed, closing his eyes.

What was he going to do about Malik now? Ryou couldn't deny that he obviously felt more than just a small attraction for the blonde. It was like... a need. A craving. He wanted to feel Malik against him again, and have that towel gone away from the other's body. But why..? Why was he thinking that was about him? Why had he wanted Malik to kiss him so badly when he had been laying underneath the Egyptian?

He occupied himself with these thoughts until Malik emerged from his bedroom wearing a pair of stylishly distressed jeans, a black wife beater that was, of course, torn to reveal his midriff, and an unbuttoned khaki-colored over-shirt.

The Egyptian all but strutted into the kitchen, announcing that he was going to start dinner. Ryou followed him with his eyes, sitting up straighter.

“U-um... do you need any help?” he asked, looking for an excuse to be near the other.

“That's a nice offer, Ryou, but I think I'll be fine," he said as he rummaged through one of his drawers for a spatula. Picking it up, he turned to Ryou and shook it at him in mock threat. "Now, make yourself at home... or else," he teased, trying his best to keep a straight face.

Ryou laughed in appreciation of the joke.

“You can turn some music on, if you like,” Malik suggested, motioning to the stereo in the living room.

Nodding his head, the albino moved over to it, picking up the remote and pressing the `Track' button. Seconds later, low music filled the room with soothing melodies. Ryou grinned, unable to suppress a laugh as he set the remote back in its rightful place and moved to the entrance of the kitchen.

“I never would have pinned you as a jazz fan,” he said honestly, looking the other up and down, pleased by the way the other's T-shirt hugged his well-muscled chest.

Malik smiled. “No one believes me when I tell them I like it,” he replied as he reached into the refrigerator for a bag of lettuce, which he tore open and dumped the contents of into a large salad bowl. Next he grabbed a container of shaved carrots, which he sprinkled into the bowl as well. “I developed a liking to it a while ago,” he explained as he glanced over to the white-haired teen. “What kind of dressing would you like on the salad?”

“I would have pictured you listening to heavy metal or something,” Ryou laughed. “Oh, uh... it doesn't really matter to me. Ginger, ranch... it's all good. What kind do you have?”

The Egyptian checked the fridge. “Bleu vinaigrette, bleu cheese, and ranch. Take your pick.”

“Ranch is okay with me.”

“Ranch it is.”

Ryou watched as his friend took out the selected dressing and began to pour it over the salad. The white-haired teen looked around, feeling rather useless. “Um,” he began, scratching the back of his neck. “Do you want me to set the table?”

Malik lifted his head, flashing a smile. “Sure, that would be great. Thanks.” He pointed to the drawer to his left. “Silverware is in there. Dishes are,” he paused and indicated one of the cabinets, “up there.”

The albino nodded his head, going to the cabinet first and taking out two plates before getting two forks and two knives from the correct drawer. He carried the dinnerware to the table and took a few moments arranging the plates.

Did he want to sit across from Malik or directly next to him? That question was answered in about two seconds - directly next to him, of course. Next, did he wish to sit to the right or to the left of the handsome Egyptian? Which angle would give him a better view?

I can't believe I'm asking myself that, Ryou thought, hanging his head and placing his dish to the left of Malik's, setting the silverware down in the correct places.

"It's been a while since I've had company," Malik stated randomly as he stopped humming. "Actually, scratch that. I've never had company." He laughed. "I can't imagine why," he said in a sarcastic tone which indicated he knew very well why.

“I usually don't have guests over either. After what happened last time..." Ryou's voice trailed off and he blushed. Malik didn't know what happened the last time he had had friends over, and the albino really didn't feel like telling him in fear that he might freak him out. "N-never mind."

"Ryou..." Malik started, meeting the other's gaze. He could see it in Ryou's eyes, the same pain and loneliness that he himself had suffered every day of his short life.

There was so much the Egyptian wanted to say, but his expression showed that he really had no idea how to put his feelings into words that could console his friend.

In Malik's opinion, the last thing Ryou deserved was a lonely life. It made Malik angry to think such a gentle, hospitable person would be ignored and left alone. He clenched his fists involuntarily at the very thought, making the unbearable anger for the Pharaoh come shooting back. Not wishing to relapse, he quickly doused that hatred.

"Ryou," he repeated, stepping closer to the shorter male.

Whatever happened the last time Ryou had company, Malik could understand. He had suffered from an evil alter-ego as well.

"...You can tell me if you want. I won't get freaked out," he said, letting out a hollow chuckle. "I'm sure it's nowhere near as bad as the crap I've done." He finished making the salad and carried the bowl over to the table, setting it down. "But if it makes you uncomfortable, I understand."

Ryou wanted to throw his arms around Malik and hug him for saying such a thing. Malik wouldn't mind knowing, and he wouldn't be creeped out by it; there was someone he could confide in, finally. Instead of embracing the Egyptian - because the pale boy figured that doing such a thing really would scare the other - he settled for closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet, fresh scent of the other's clean hair as Malik walked by. Opening his eyes, he placed his hands on the corner of the table.

"It was a while ago... back when I first moved here. There were always... accidents back home. Strange, unexplainable accidents seemed to follow me everywhere. I thought I was cursed... and that... that I was the reason all these weird things were happening. I didn't want to put my family in danger... so I came to Japan. But the accidents didn't stop. Everywhere I went... accidents. Holes in my memory. I got so scared... finally I ended up here and-and I tried to avoid everyone. I thought that if I ignored everyone, they wouldn't bother to get close to me and I wouldn't have to worry about them getting hurt. And it worked for a while, I guess... but then I met Yugi and the others."

He sighed, brushing a strand of colorless hair behind his ear and tracing the smooth, polished wood of the table.

"They were so nice to me at first, and one day they wanted to surprise me by coming over to my apartment. That's when I first discovered the Spirit of the Ring's presence... he took over me and... and trapped all of their souls into game pieces. They almost died...I almost died. But... the Pharaoh won against the Spirit of the Ring, and we were all freed. Since then, though, I haven't had any visitors over at my place."

Ryou let out a dry laugh. "Can't blame them, of course." Shaking his head, he pulled away from the table, changing the subject. "W-where do you keep your glasses?"

Malik went and retrieved two glasses from the kitchen, setting them down on the table. He pursed his lips, trying to think of something he could say to make the albino feel better. In the end, all he could do was apologize for actions that weren't even his own.

"I-I'm so sorry, Ryou." was all Malik could choke out.

He had so many things he wanted to talk about when it came to their pasts. He just wanted to sit on the couch right that very second, with Ryou on his lap - holding him tightly and confiding all that he could in him. Swallowing an unwanted lump in his throat, he turned to Ryou.

"But... don't they understand that it wasn'tyou doing that? The spirit is gone now. I just don't understand..." Malik whispered. He knew why no one contacted him since the finals ended, for he had done much worse things than what the Spirit of the Ring had done.

"He... I don't think he'll ever be gone," The albino said slowly, referring to the Spirit of the Ring. "He always finds a way back to me. They know it, too. That's why they stay away from me."

Wrapping his arms around himself, Ryou shook his head again. He felt so depressed now; all he wanted was for Malik to hold him. Blushing at the thought, the albino stole a glance at the Egyptian. His heart sunk as he realized how selfish he must sound. Malik was in a parallel situation as himself, and yet Ryou never really heard him complain about it.

He wondered if he was annoying Malik... If Malik just thought of him as a bother. Ryou hoped not. He liked to think Malik felt something towards him - friendship, or maybe even more than that.

Malik brought a water pitcher to the table, filling up both of the glasses. He then cleared his throat and looked at Ryou with determined lilac eyes.

"I swear to the Gods, Ryou," Malik vowed, his voice firm with restrained anger. He approached him and placed a hand on his exposed shoulder, enjoying the soft warmth of Ryou's skin under his fingertips. "I'll do whatever I can to get that Spirit away from you. I know what its like," he continued, breaking eye contact and reluctantly sliding his hand off Ryou's creamy white shoulder. "...to feel that way. My darker half is gone for good now, and I'm sure there is a way to get rid of yours."

He smiled, forcing himself not to stare at Ryou's prettily shaped mouth any longer than necessary. "I'll help you... I'll do whatever I can. Because I know what the pain is like. I'm a friend to you, Ryou."

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And that's all it took. Those words... as soon as he said them, I knew. I knew that Malik Ishtar was the only one for me - the only one I could ever love. We were destined to be together. He understood me, understood the pain I had suffered all my life. He went through it all, just like me.

That's all it took. That simple promise of, “I'll help you.” Of, “I'm a friend to you.” The look in his eyes... the determination I saw there. He really made me believe in it, in that promise. He really gave new life to my hope.

I wasn't the same after that point. I had fallen, and each of his actions and words only dragged me down deeper. And I didn't want to pick myself back up. I liked the feelings being around him instilled within me. I liked the excited fluttering of my heart that was brought on by each glance in my direction. I liked warmth that rose to my cheeks each time he spoke my name.

I guess I just couldn't help myself when I kissed him. I remember, I'd made a comment about how charming he was and how, back in Egypt, the girls must have been all over him. After that he got embarrassed, and admitted to me that it wasn't like that.

“I'm not like other guys,” he'd said. “I guess I just realized... I'm not like other guys.”

He was just like me. I wasn't the only one. He'd gone through everything I had. If he wasn't my soul mate, I didn't know who was.

I just leaned in. “I'm not like other guys either.” And then I pressed my lips against his.

It was the first of many kisses - and certainly the sweetest with its innocent timidity.

I doubted myself. Of course I doubted myself. What if my actions had been too forward? What if I was looking too much into things? Just because Malik had the same sexual preference as my didn't mean he was actually interested in a relationship with me. I began to panic inside, fearing that my kissing him might lead to the end of our newborn friendship.

To quell my fears, he kissed me back. It was like heaven. I even told God - I'll never ask for anything again.

I was a very naïve boy, as you can see. That first kiss started it all - our relationship, and all the misery that came with it.

But I wanted so hard to make it work. I believed so fiercely in us... in our love for each other. But I suppose no relationship can last when only one person thinks that way.

I should have known sooner. There were so many odds against us. We were a homosexual couple living in a world that generally frowned upon serious same-sex relationships. We had no chance from the start.

But I still had my hope. I still had that innocence in me.

... Sometimes I find myself dwelling on what my life would be like if he was still a part of it. If he hadn't left me... Where would I be now? Would we still be living on that house by the beach? Would I be happy? Loved? Fulfilled? Or would I have just wasted more time?

I don't know. It gives me headaches to think about him, most of the time, so I try not to. But that's impossible. One never forgets their first love, after all.

Their only love.

Of course I still think about him. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't. He was my first love... my only love. And as much as I hate to admit it, I still love him deep down.

I don't think I can ever forget... The littlest things bring back the strongest memories.

I'll pass a museum, or see something having to do with Ancient history, and I'll recall how, after he departed for Egypt after that one month expired, I went after him. Caught the earliest flight I could and followed him all the way to Cairo. Boy was his sister surprised when she came home and saw us kissing in her kitchen.

I was so devoted. Couldn't he see that? I would have done anything for him. I did all that I could for him, to make him happy. I gave him all that I had! And yet... and yet, somehow, that still wasn't enough to satisfy him.

I did not understand. Waking up to an empty bed. Discovering only a note taped to the front door. What had I done wrong?

The weeks we spent in Egypt were pleasant. Every day I learned something new about the culture and the people there. Malik taught me how to say things in Arabic, and despite how ridiculous I sounded the first few times I tried piecing words together, I actually caught on to the language rather quickly. He would take me out to eat, and together we'd explore the ruins that currently weren't under excavation. At night we would lie on the flat roof of his house and stare up at the sky, pointing out shapes and patterns the stars made and kissing when the mood was just right. There was lots of music in the village, even late at night; sometimes we would dance together on the roof, careless of any weird looks we received. I loved it. I loved him, more and more, with each passing day.

He didn't want to stay in Egypt long. Too many bad memories. He wanted to go somewhere new, somewhere exciting. England, he'd suggested one evening as we lay underneath the moon blanketing glow.

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“Let's go to England, Ryou.”

The albino blinked his eyes, cocking his head back to give Malik a questioning stare. “England?” he repeated, a slight uneasiness to his tone.

Malik nodded his head, shifting Ryou so that they were facing one another directly. “England. You lived there as a kid, right? You know English. I learned it when I was young. We can go there... All we need is a place to stay. It will be perfect.”

Ryou looked away. “What's wrong with Egypt?” he wanted to know. “I like it here.”

A quiet sigh escaped the blonde's slightly parted lips. “I know you do, Ryou, but... don't you understand? This place is filled with so many horrible memories. Each day I'm forced to relive my childhood... Each time I see my brother and sister I'm forced to remember all the awful things I did to them. Don't you see? I want to be somewhere where those memories can't touch me. I want to start over. With you.”

“B-but, Malik... England... there were so many things that happened...”

His voice trailed off as Malik's lips covered his own. The Egyptian brought his hands to rest on either side of Ryou's face.

“Hey,” he whispered, lips still against Ryou's. “Hey... I know it will be hard to start over. But we can make it. You and me, we're strong together. We can make it.” He lowered his head to gently nuzzle the other's neck. “And think about it... We'll be living together, alone... We can be like this, all the time.”

Chocolate-brown orbs slipped closed as Malik kissed him again. Ryou was silent for several moments before he whispered, almost inaudibly, a response.

“We have... a summer house in England. It's still belongs to my family.”

Malik smiled and connected their lips again in a kiss much more heated than the last few. They were going to England!