Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Millennium Dark ❯ I found you ( Chapter 8 )

Chapter 8 "I found you."

Author's notes: Ah, the last chapter wasn't my best work. I know it seemed slow, but I needed a bit of a break in the story, just for back-story, and it's going to pick up.

A note about that girl from Seto's past-aha, no Mary-Sue here and no Avril Lavigne look alike either. If anything, I won't be going too much into Seto's side of this saga, but I needed something to be effecting everyone. Sorry if it seemed lame, but like I said, I'm not too proud of my writing on that one. *Sighs* Enjoy this chapter though.

* * *

Yugi and Ryou were in the middle of an intense chess game, when Yugi suddenly blurted out, "Ryou, I'm seeing someone!" The game just stopped right there. Ryou's Bishop was just about to checkmate Yugi's Queen, but the black piece just dropped to the board with a loud clatter. The white-haired boy stared at his friend with wide eyes.

It took him a moment to recover from the sudden blast of information. "Y-You're seeing someone? Well that's great Yugi!" Ryou smiled and tried not to sound too shocked. Now that would just be low and callus-and Bakura like, wouldn't it? That was a bit cheeky, Ryou had to admit, but it was a mental jab at the other boy, and he wasn't here to hear it, was he? So Ryou was safe.

The shorter boy smiled a little, still a bit pale for having said that so quickly. "Uh y-yeah, you could say that…but just who it is…I'm not sure if you're gonna like it."

Ryou gave him a reassuring smile. "Yugi, you know you can tell me anything. I'm not a blabbermouth. I'll keep it a secret if you want me to. And there's no point in just dropping the conversation after we just started it."

"Oh sure I can," Yugi pouted. Then he got an idea. He had seen a glow about Ryou's face, and that meant he had a fancy for someone. "But if I tell you who it is, you'll have to tell me who it is that's got you all glowing." Ryou looked absolutely petrified. "Oh don't think I didn't notice Ryou Tenshii. Is it a deal or not?"

"Oh fine," Ryou relented. "You first."

"Yami Akaiame."

"Bakura Akuma."

There was a lengthy pause, then… "WHO!?!?!??!?"

* * *

Malik was on his seventh cup of coffee, and by this time he had begun to tune out Shadi's words of advice and/or comfort. He was in his own world by now, thinking about what else? Bakura's strange behaviour. Finally, he spoke. "Shadi, I'm alright now. Whatever happens, will happen. Do you mind if I'm alone for a second?"

"Sure," Shadi said, looking at his friend, still with some concern. He got up and started to walk down the street, leaving Malik to his devices. Malik sighed into his coffee as he drank it, the boosted feeling coffee usually accomplished now long gone since his fifth cup. His hair wasn't spiked outrageously like it usually was, but left down and it went past his shoulders. Yami always used to joke that he should just keep his hair down-he looked descent.

Pushing his shades down from the top of his head to cover his eyes, Malik sighed. They would be heading out soon for some more promotional stuff. Their album was nearly finished, just three more tracks to write, compile and polish off. If there was anywhere Malik wanted to be, it wasn't here. Sometimes he felt that he should just go off and never come back. Now that feeling was particularly strong. But they all took an oath-no matter what was going on in their personal lives, they would put it behind them for the band.

Now it seemed that this wasn't the case. Everyone had something that was bothering them. Except for Shadi. Now that Malik thought about it, the `older brother' of the band never had any problems. Well that's bullshit, Malik thought. Everyone has problems. I guess Shadi's just … the smarter one. He keeps it to himself and deals with it better than the rest of us. We should all follow his example. Looking up Malik blinked as he saw the exact carbon copy of himself, but with shorter hair and a … as much as he hated to admit it, less psychotic looking version of himself.

The boy was wearing a white sleeveless shirt that had a hood attached to it, zipped up and had two gold chains acting as clasps on the chest. On each of his arms, there was a golden band, and around his neck a semi-thick band, with a stylised Egyptian Eye in the centre. It seemed to be a choker of some sort. It had the same motif as the Millennium Items Millennium Dark had. He had slender golden earrings shaped a little triangular and wore black pants. And he was walking in Malik's direction.

As Malik shamelessly studied his apparent twin's features, he realised that this boy must be from Millennium Light. He remembered the picture from the TV when they were all watching a while ago. Turning back to his coffee, Malik didn't realise that the boy was heading to his table. There were no other tables left in the crowded café, and he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. "Excuse me," he said, and Malik detected an Egyptian accent, "you don't mind if I sit here, do you? There's no room."

Lifting his head up to look the other boy in the eye, he shook his head. "I don't mind at all. It's a free country and all that." He felt the need to introduce himself since the other blonde was looking at him expectantly. "My name's Malik Ishtar."

The other boy's eyes widened. "Malik?" Malik nodded and wondered if the boy had recognised him from Millennium Dark. "Do you … know a woman named Isis?"

Malik paused. The name `did' sound familiar. "I think I do … why? Who are you?"

"Maric Ishtal," he replied and Malik's eyes widened.

"Maric? That … it sounds very close to my name," Malik said, not sure of what to make of the situation. "And your name does sound familiar…I met Isis a while ago when we were on a tour of Egypt. She's a very nice woman, runs a museum, doesn't she?"

The boy who had such a close namesake to Malik's sat down across from him and nodded. "Yeah, in Domino…she's my sister." Malik raised an eyebrow and nodded, seeing a slight resemblance between the two. Maric looked down at his hands and began to twiddle his thumbs. Looking up at him, Maric continued, "she told me of a boy named Malik Ishtar, and … I wonder why you two shared the same last name, but she was my blood sister."

Malik held a hand up. "Hold on, just what are you getting at?"

"Give me a moment, it's kind of complicated what I'm trying to tell you," Maric said, clearing his throat. He took the glass of water he had ordered from the waiter and took a sip. "I've known this man, Rishid for as long as I could remember. He's about nine years older than I am, and he's been telling me about my family, since … well my mother died when I was born, and Isis had gone to Japan, and I was alone with him, and my father in Cairo. Rishid wasn't the only one with me when I was growing up; there was another boy. He looked just like me, only he was … five minutes older I think.

"My father wasn't a nice man. He could be, but it was very rare. We've always had a strong connection to Ancient Egypt." Maric paused, touching the Egyptian Eye on his choker. "Isis opened up the museum to display our findings, we were in the family business of archaeology. Anyway … my father didn't seem to like the fact that I was spending so much time with my brother, and I was only two years old, barely old enough to remember what I did five minutes ago; and decided to send him to my distant cousin's house to live. We didn't have such good relations with this woman, we were fairly distant from her, so I suppose that's why my father gave my brother over to her."

"Hold on, what was this woman's name? That your father sent your brother too?" Malik questioned, now becoming deeply engrossed in the story. More questions had started to pop up in his mind, questions that he had kept buried since he was absolutely sure that he would never get a straight answer from anyone that he had considered his family. But now, this information that Maric was telling him…it sounded like he knew what the boy was talking about, but he had never met this Maric kid in his life. "Why did he send this brother away?"

Maric paused and took another sip of his water. Retelling these memories that he had kept so quiet was taking its toll on him. Only Rishid knew this information and Isis of course. "The woman's name was Amyle, I don't know much about her, only that she lived in deep in Tokyo. I never really understood why my father sent my brother away. I was so hurt, and confused. Didn't he want me to be happy? Rishid told me later that the reason that my father sent my brother to Amyle…is because my brother reminded him too much of mother."

Malik took a moment to calm himself down. His mind was racing at over 100 mph and it was showing no signs of slowing down. "So wait, let me get this straight, and I apologise if I get anything of this wrong. You had a twin brother who was five minutes older than you are. You lived with him, this guy Rishid and your father. Isis left for Japan to open a museum. Your father thought this boy looked too much like your mother so he sent him to your cousin's house and thought no more of it?" He stopped, and momentarily forgot the name Maric said was the name of the woman his father had dropped the brother off to. "What…what was the name of this distant cousin of yours again?"

The younger of the two boys looked hesitant to answer. He had a strong hunch regarding the elder boy he was sitting across from but he wasn't entirely sure. There was something familiar about him, other than his blonde hair and purple eyes. Of course, there was no real way he could tell if the eyes were just enhanced by contact lenses. There were many Japanese youth that had outrageous-coloured eyes. "The woman's name was Amyle," Maric replied, and saw Malik's eyes widened.

A longer pause was left as Malik looked down at his hands, which was gripping the coffee mug tightly. So tightly Maric feared the boy would soon shatter the ceramic mug. "That's … that's the name of my mother," Malik said quietly. "Well…the woman I thought was my mother. When I turned 16 she told me that I wasn't really her son. Up until then I regarded her as my birth mother; I had known only her for as long as I could remember. She made no mention of my true family up until then. But maybe she felt guilt or something, and she told me that I was just her cousin…I was so hurt I didn't hear her. I grabbed my bass guitar and just ran out of there.

"I never went back for more than a day at a time after that. I stood on the streets and played my bass for money," Malik explained, divulging this information more easily than he would have with anyone else, even Bakura. "It wasn't fair to Amyle, she worked hard to put up with my shit, but I couldn't stay there. I tried hard to search for anyone who had my last name, but I found nothing. I met Isis when our tour reached Egypt. She was … I felt like I trust her with anything, and she seemed genuinely concerned with me. Isis noticed I had this," Malik held up the Millennium Rod, "and said she had something like it, the Tauk, but gave it to her brother who was currently in…America I think."

Now it was Maric's turn to be dead silent. This was proving his hunch to be dead on, and now that it was being proven, he couldn't say anything else. His voice was seemingly permanently stuck in his throat. "I was in America, working on our first album with the band," he said finally. Maric looked up at Malik, whose deep purple eyes held his strongly. "This is more than a mere coincidence, Malik. But there's one more thing I must ask you."

Malik nodded. "Sure, what is it?"

Maric unclasped the chains on his sleeveless hoodie, sliding it off. Many guys around the café and Tokyo were shirtless, in the blistering heat. Malik wondered idly what was going on, as Maric turned around, there was no more wondering. Maric's back was covered in Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, and from Malik could translate, it had something to do with the Ishtar family, and a connection to a brother. "Do you have this as well on your back?" Maric asked, turning back around and putting back on his sleeveless hoodie.

Slowly, Malik stood up and did the same, taking off his shirt and showed Maric the exact same designs on his own back. They had been on his back for as long as he could remember; Amyle could offer no explanation for it either. Maric's mouth opened slightly in shock, and he eased out of his chair and walked over, lightly touching the lines of the hieroglyphs as if, if he pressed any harder, it would hurt Malik. It was exactly the same, but with a slight variant, it spoke of his younger brother, and not older as Maric's had stated. Slowly, Malik turned around and put his shirt back on. "…Brother."

There was a long pause of quiet, as the two boys looked at each other in silent awe. Finally, Maric moved over to his older twin brother, and put his arms firmly around him. "I've finally found you," he whispered into Malik's shoulder. Malik's arms came strongly around him, keeping the hug quite tight. As if letting go would verify this was a dream, and he hadn't really just found the only link to his real family, the one thing he had been searching for all his life. "Father can't keep us apart anymore."

Malik shook his head. "No, there's no one that can keep us apart anymore…brother." Saying it only cemented the discovery. "I don't have to search anymore." Looking down at the slightly shorter boy, Malik smiled for the first time in a long time. "We have a lot to catch up on, don't we?" Maric laughed. "Let's get started then!"

-TBC-

Author's notes: I like this chapter a lot more. All fluffy. Please review!