Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Rewind 1 ❯ Open Doors ( Chapter 21 )

HIYA! Thanks for reviewing! I'm back! This is the next chapter, which I think is my favourite in the whole story! Kura wakes up...ooohh...he's hot! Lotsa attmepts (failed) at humour and some mushiness. Also, many surprises!

Please review when you can!

Actually, I always thought everyone would give up on me, in the end! This is highly ironic, because I, myself, rarely stick to a WIP, especially oneas long and tedious as this! I admire y'all! Thank you! I promise to update again ASAP! (i want to know the continuation too, ya know). The good thing with this story is that it's practically a 600 page novel, so ifone starts it now, I'll probably finish it before one can reach the end!

“Shhhhh! He's waking!”

“Be quie-“

“You can't be serious!”

“Finally”

“SHHHHHHHH!”

Ugh…wha-… what the…

“Marik. Marik can you hear me?”

A little too loud, actually…

“Serena, let him breathe…Marik, you okay?”

It took a great effort to make his eyelids move. He felt like he wouldn't be able to see, even if he did manage to open them, somehow. The previously muted voices were now becoming discernible sounds, although hushed. Marik felt something refreshing and lukewarm be spread on his forehead. The sticky feeling of general discomfort was relieved a little bit.

“Ughh…”

There were no other encouraging voices; only an expectant silence which greeted Marik as he opened his eyes. Above him, hallowed by light and swirling around was the face of one elated Serenity Wheeler.

“Welcome back.” She quietly said, her auburn eyes sparkling in a way he'd never seen before with her, not even when she was with Ryou. And speaking of Ryou, Marik almost had a heart attack when he saw the albino's smiling face next to Serenity's. It was a face so deeply connected with Bakura in his mind -and quite logically so- that his chest hurt when he reminded himself that…Bakura was in this body no more. Not only that, but Bakura had never smiled as radiantly as Ryou.

With that thought, like a hurricane, came condensed all the recent happenings his brain had conveniently stored away to let him sleep. Thoughts of the lost Game King assaulted him, thoughts of Kaiba and Mokuba' s pained expressions. Thoughts of a clone, who had died for them…

“Master.” Was heard a voice from somewhere outside the frame, and Marik reflexively smiled in response at Rishid' s worried tone.

“Al' right ol' boy?” the tanned youth tried to say, but it came out hoarse and dry, so much so that he didn't even recognize his own voice. He wanted to tell Rishid to shut up with calling him `Master', but he really had no strength.

“Well, it looks like Marik-boy had a bit too much to drink…” someone said, whose voice Marik didn't recognize very well. He was aided, however, when a couple of annoyed groans echoed around -one of them unmistakably Yugi's- and said “Shut up, Pegasus.”

“Marik…” Serena was looking at him worriedly, patting the towel on his forehead “Marik. How many are these?” she asked, and Marik would have laughed at the ridiculousness of the clichιd question if he could actually discern the number of fingers she was holding up.

“Umm…six?” he ventured, not really sure he could still see at this point, let alone count the correct number of fingers. He only knew there was something soft and comfortable lying under his liquefied body, and that was enough. Ryou covered his snickers with a discrete cough, and Serena shook her head.

“Oh man, this ain't looking too good…” said a voice that Marik definitely didn't know. He didn't even have enough energy to be startled when an insanely smiling blond face swam into his vision “ Whazzup down there! Me Tarzan, you Jane! Want candy?”

Marik blinked.

“Who is this nutcase?” he aimed the question at no one in particular, but the fuzzy mop of blond in front of him, which wasn't all that recognizable, didn't seem to mind. It took a moment for Marik to fully register what the aforementioned offer had been, and he blinked once again. “What kind of candy?”

“HA!” the lunatic declared triumphantly, throwing a fist in the air and wreaking havoc on poor Marik's entangled senses, by shaking the narrow bed “I knew it! He's just playin' with ya! One mentioning of candy and he completely wakes up!” the blond idiot was shouting, making everybody laugh, while Serenity shook her head disapprovingly.

“Brother! You're killing him! Give the man some air!” Serena crossed her arms and huffed, but even through his haze, Marik could see her happiness wide and clear. When Marik's retarded brain managed to put two and two together about this guy's identity, however, he groaned.

“Chill, will ya? I know I'm hot, but he's not suffocating from my hotness. Yet.” Joey was loudly proclaiming, brown eyes flaring and all. This time, a vein definitely popped in Marik's gauge-wrapped forehead.

“Okay, that's it!” the tanned youngster declared, now loud and clear, as he suddenly sat up and pushed Joey's grinning face away from him.

“What the-- HEY!” was heard the detached protest, as a thud signified Joey's collision with the floor. Marik, now somewhat irritated, was trying to steady his head and stop the world from whirling around so fast.

“Joey Wheeler!” was heard the unmistakable high-pitched abomination of all sound, and Marik almost groaned along with Joey as Mai marched in the room, followed by her squealing female offspring “Come here this instant! You promised you'd leave Serena tranquil for a while!”

Had he not been utterly disoriented and dizzy, Marik may surely have laughed with the picture of Joey, following a laughing Mai like a punished little puppy with the tail between his legs.

“Stray mutt.” Marik heard the familiar bored baritone and almost barked out guffawing at Kaiba Seto's clearly disgusted expression.

“Socializing, Kaiba?” Marik questioned sarcastically, and watched, still laughing, as Kaiba's face shriveled in distaste and he exited the room. Kaiba may be a robot on some aspects, but he still generally acted as a human. After all, he wouldn't have fooled anyone if he were a hundred percent robotic.

Marik was still shaking his head when a smirking Pegasus left the room, after Kaiba. Poor Peg. He probably didn't know his idol was a droid!

Marik finally managed to establish a good look around him and smiled by what he saw. All those familiar faces, condensed in a narrow space, which pronounced them even more. They were all there: Yugi, Tea, Tristan, Duke, Rishido, Lena, Rika, Kenji, Serena, Ryou…all of them. Their faces were smiling down at him, but he couldn't help but notice most of them had red-rimmed, dry eyes with dark circles. They were all tired, no doubt…and Marik didn't even want to think about the reasons why they'd been sad, since he knew that he'd break down more violently than anyone else…However, he couldn't help but notice…

“Where's Taichi?” he simply asked, and watched as their warm expressions closed up. They didn't say anything, probably didn't dare, but…”I see” he opted to finish, aware of how stupid he probably sounded.

Suddenly, however, as though jarred to reality from a pleasant dream, a brutal flash of red came to his mind and he all but shouted “Bakura! Bakura! Where is he?”

Ryou calmed him by pressing on his shoulders and the others, seeing his suddenly hoarse face, all but launched into explanations.

“In the other room-“

“Don't worry-“

“He's alive-“

“Don't worry”

Exhausted by the pressure of his concern alone, Marik felt the muscles of his back strain, and he soon found himself falling back supine, with Ryou's gentle hands as a cushion. He let out a long, drawn out sigh of relief. He didn't know anything, and all his strength was slowly abandoning him. But, even through his swiftly approaching exhaustion, he found the will to ask “Where are we? How many days have I been like this?”

Serenity smiled at him, warmly “At my house and Joey's. Five days.”

And with those reassuring words, Marik finally let himself go, seeing Rishid's reassuring face wink at him. The last thing he saw and heard was Ryou's porcelain face and his “Rest, Marik…”. The blond imagined he saw those albino eyes flashing deep red, but he soon realized it was a trick of the light, and nothing more.

-

It took another three days for him to fully recuperate, waking up and abruptly fainting at regular intervals. He was visited by different people at different times, and he managed more than once to earn a bit of useful information about what was happening out there while he was shut in.

Pegasus had left for Mercury along with Lena, Rika and Kenji, who had repaid him for this small favour in who knows what way- Pegasus was a bit of a pervert, truth be told. In Mercury they were planning to break the news to Taichi' s parents and have a small funeral for him. They seemed to want to forget the whole story, never wanting to see Kaiba or anyone else again. Marik could understand that, and respected their choice, although he felt a tad wronged. They hadn't seen the horrors he'd seen after all…but, still, he couldn't judge them.

He'd also found out that the others were mostly in a state of healing. Joey, who Marik learned to honestly adore as a constantly perky guy, had a cast around one of his arms -courtesy of Bakura- from when he'd fought as a Mind Slave. Serenity, Tea and Yugi also had several bandages in various parts of their bodies, mainly exposed limbs. Naturally, Ryou, whose body had been completely abused by Bakura during that hellish night, had managed to wake up fully a day before Marik.

The tanned youth now knew he was located in Joey's hut of a house, somewhere in the Earthian Catacomb ghetto. He had been subjected to the horrors of Mai's, honestly disgusting, cooking and had teased her with Joey about it more than once. He'd also had a field trip out of playing different card games with Joey's alarmingly intelligent son, who Marik had re-baptized `Big Bad Rascal', due to his obsession -and talent- with cheating in absolutely everything.

However, Marik wasn't able to walk yet, since his sense of equilibrium and balance had not been fully restored. Apart from a broken -luckily not deformed- nose, a severely bleeding shoulder -victim to laser attack- and various brutal bites -from little clone teeth- on all the expanse of his body, it appears he had fallen victim to a cranium fraction, which, obviously, was not as relenting as the rest of his superficial wounds.

Seeing as the Catacomb ghettos did not enjoy the privileges of the upper classes when it came to medicine and health, Marik's revival took much longer than it originally should have and was based mainly on self-healing by rest rather than actual pharmaceutical support. Hell, maybe it was better this way—Marik had seen what medicine could do. Images of people in glass laboratories came to mind, and he felt his skin crawl.

These thoughts often led to the other part of Marik's new life, the less congenial and bright side. At night, when the lights were down and his room empty, he often let tears fall, for different reasons each time. For Dark Yugi, who was a good man so contrary to evil Gozaburo that his very body rejected the intruder; for Mokuba, whose eyes were unblinking and stony, while his lonely tear fell; for Seto, who now lived only as a cyborg, unmoving until Marik issued a next command…for 290, who Marik didn't think of as `290' any more, or as `a clone', but rather as `my brother…my twin'. He'd cried about his twin many, many times. He'd cried about himself just as much. About his dead sister, his mother…his murderous father, who was also a victim of his own jealousy.

And last of all, he cried, probably more than for any other reason, for the one he loved. For the memories which had, undoubtedly, been erased. Bakura was in the room next to his, he'd been told this. And yet, that man wasn't Bakura. He might have had Bakura's real body but Marik was sure, even though anxious to meet him, that Nehti wasn't the same man as the Bakura he'd loved. In fact, Marik didn't even think that he felt the same way about Nehti as he thought he once did. Bakura…Bakura had died. His memories were all lost, and since they didn't exist…he wouldn't be the same man. No. He wouldn't be. Even though he couldn't help but hope for a miracle, Marik knew that he couldn't feel the same way about Nehti, if he didn't have Bakura's memories…his personality…which he surely didn't.

He'd learnt, from Serena, that Ryou had been sleeping on Nehti 's side day and night- that he was frantic he'd lose the other half of his soul, just like Yugi, who now had seemingly lost that spark of childish happiness. Marik had noticed it as well, that though Yugi and Tea behaved as they usually did, in general, they lapsed into silence more often than not, and became withdrawn form each other and everyone else. Yugi had cried without realizing it more than once.

Ryou had visited once or twice, but he was always exhausted. Pale and with dark circles framing his eyes, the albino's face was actually too hurtful to look at, for Marik. He'd preferred it if he didn't see Ryou altogether, actually, and he had a feeling Ryou knew it. In fact, though Marik was reluctant to even accept he was thinking it, he'd have probably preferred if Ryou didn't exist in his life altogether now, now that his face was a constant reminder of what Marik…what Marik had lost.

The day he finally managed to get up and walk, he'd collapsed a moment after taking a few steps, but at least now they were all sure he'd be okay, no matter how long it took. A few days afterwards, when Marik had finally managed to take that long-awaited bath by himself, he turned to the mirror and almost screamed in fright by what he saw.

This creature was definitely not him. Rishid had been worrying about him and telling him to eat more, but this was just horrendous. His cheeks had been sucked in, letting show the entire skeletal structure of his skull. It had been eleven days, summed up, ever since they'd escaped Kuru Eruna, and though his muscles hadn't had time to slacken just yet, he was actually very perturbed by the transformation of his body. Ever since Rewind 1 had begun, there was a dramatic difference in his diet and exercise program. Let's just say…there hadn't been a program.

Therefore, he couldn't understand how that skeletal thing in front of him, which had lean but extremely pronounced muscles pumping with each move, could ever be his body. He didn't like it. If possible, he looked even more slim and lean than usual, lack of body fat now extreme. That wasn't attractive. His face looked like one of those aliens from Hurag, who were eternally teased because of that alarming thinness. He quickly resolved to become his normal, dashing self.

Prompted by this sudden revelation about himself, he begun to realize how much the others had changed as well. Namely, he realized he couldn't clearly remember how they'd all been a month ago, when the ordeal started, since he'd grown so used to seeing them all dirty, exhausted, thin and stingy that he couldn't recall the women's original, fresh and fleshy states and the men's initially broad smiles! Ryou had changed too…oh he'd changed all right. He'd grown from lean and creamy to rock hard and skeletal. Serenity, who initially retained that natural beauty which goes with young, robust women, had now been reduced to a ghost of herself. Yugi and Tea… Marik couldn't even bear to think about them.

He was so absorbed by his thoughts when he came out of the small bathroom, that it took time for him to realize everyone was gathered in the sitting room, downstairs. He dressed slowly, careful not to strain his newly retrieved strength, and carefully descended the stairs to the sitting room. He could hear voices talking, all hushed, and wondered if this was some `secret gathering' designed to be kept away from him.

What actually awaited him, however, was another story.

“Well see who decided to grace our presence.” Kaiba's disinterested voice wrung, and Marik shot him a glare for announcing his presence so openly. Unfortunately, Marik's mind control when it came to Kaiba was partly uncontrollable, so he regretted it when Kaiba shut his mouth a little too unnaturally, with an annoyed expression.

The deed had been done, however, and Marik's plans for sneaking up to the discussion were horribly thwarted, since everybody turned around to greet him. Joey and Mai, however, who had had their backs turned to him, didn't realize that, by turning, they actually revealed what sat opposite them.

At Marik's undignified stumble, Rishid rushed to assist, and the tanned youth was thankfully saved from further mortification, which would have been only consequential to a fall form the stairs.

“Marik!” the Rascal shouted, and hopped up and down, while Tristan came to help him. Experiencing the sensation of blushing was not something Marik had missed, since he was very inexperienced with it and had only been forced under it when under Bakura's scrutiny. But how could he not blush, when everyone had suddenly rushed to help him, as though he was some handicapped little lady, all the time while he was being watched by those eyes.

Oh yes. He. Apparently, no one had thought it pliable to inform Marik that this was in fact, as he later discovered, the day when those red eyes opened to greet the world again. Bakura, or perhaps, Nehti, was sitting there on the couch next to Ryou, utterly statuesque, his skin stark yellow-white when compared to his dark blue attire and black, raven locks, which lay like ribbons around him. His red eyes were narrowed in a frown -this was probably their innate condition- and his snobbish stance was so sharply reminiscent of Ryou's Darkside that for a wild moment Marik heard his own heart pounding and thought “It's him!”

His humiliation continued mercilessly, as he was forced to answer various different inquires as to how he was feeling, why he was flushed -this made him flush even more, of course- if he felt weak at the knees, whether he'd eaten or not. He didn't want to start snapping at them all, since he knew they were doing it out of concern, but, really, a man could only take so much. Bakura's eyes were piercing him already, sharp and stinging as they obviously scanned him from top to bottom, as though assessing his status, somehow. Immediately, Marik remembered his previous worries about his withered charms -or at least the charms he thought were withering- and intensely regretted not having worn anything better, or his jewelry, or…well.

“I'm fine…Really, I'm fine.” He said the last bit a bit louder than necessary, and a concerned Tea, catching his drift, took her queue to leave him alone. Nehti didn't say a single word, though their staring match had honestly started to turn a tad juvenile.

“Hey man!” Joey started trying to break the ice, and Marik noticed that the uncomfortable look didn't become him one bit “We were just thinkin' of comin' ta getcha! The-“

“Come on, Menace!” Big Bad Rascal rudely interrupted, and started to pull at Marik's hand “I wanna show you the new kitchen droid I made! You promised you'd-“

“Don't interrupt your father! Now apologize and shut up, like a good boy.” Mai advised in a most unorthodox way, but Marik chose to see it as Joey rubbing off on her. The tanned man's eyes slipped from one speaker to the other, but his attention always stayed focused on his peripheral vision, where two red eyes didn't seem to want to leave him alone. He was forced to remind himself not to let his heart thud, because this man wasn't Bakura. He wasn't! He was just a weirdo, who seemed to be observing each of Marik's reactions to the other people, as though Marik was an immensely interesting specimen. The blond, from his part, tried his best to remain carefully neutral in everything.

Suddenly, Ryou took his queue to speak. Everyone was quiet as he took it upon himself to introduce his `friend'.

“Marik. I'm glad you're here. This is my cousin, Nehti.” Ryou politely introduced. He'd stood up, and Nehti had stood with him, albeit, Marik noticed, a tad shakily. Long black tresses tossed out of his vision, Nehti assumed a pose of general indifference as he stood. Within the uncomfortable silence, Marik was burdened with the reluctance to say something, only he didn't know what. He contemplated looking straight in Nehti's eyes but thought better of it, nearly blushing at the mere thought. Did this man remember anything…? Did he know…

Suddenly, with the whooshing sound of a cape through the wind, Marik felt something sharp grab his jaw and raise it from where he'd lowered his face. His surprise came suddenly, but was almost simultaneously followed by the nervous fluttering in his stomach and the pounding of his heart.

“Nethi!” Ryou's startled voice sounded. Apparently no one had expected it, since they all gasped. Nehti's face had come about an inch from Marik's, his none-too-gentle grasp forcing Marik's face upwards. Unashamedly, Nehti took his mighty time observing Marik's face, the reverted amethyst eyes, the bobbing Adam's apple…Marik, annoyed with himself for being such a wuss but unable to force himself push Bakura -Nehti, it was Nehti—away, just stayed there, unflinching and unmoving, as Nehti's extremely pale face and huge eyes perused him like today's menu.

Nehti just held on to him without saying a word, pale lips sealed shut, red eyes piercing through Marik's amethyst sockets, unblinking, merciless. Heart beating wildly, not daring to believe Nehti had remembered something from Bakura, Marik turned his crystal eyes towards his captor, very slowly. Why was this happening? Why had Nehti grabbed him all of a sudden? He tried to open his mouth, and saw Nehti's translucent pupils enlarge to cover almost the entire red retina, as though the crow man was focusing completely. His pupils were see-through…just like those of albinos! Like Bakura's!

“I-“ Marik started, fearing his voice would come out high and squeaky, and thankfully didn't manage to complete that statement, since he didn't know what he might have said.

“Forgive our friend, Marik…” Ryou administered, with a meaningful glare towards Nehti. Serenity smiled as she realized his tone was every bit that of the diplomatic Japanese trying not to curse his relative in front of strangers “He's very confused and doesn't know what he's doing. Relax, Nehti. Let him go…” and with those words, Ryou took a slightly pacified Nehti's hand and forced it to let go of Marik.

Nehti glared at his cousin, and, honestly, it was so unbelievably identical to Bakura's glare that even Ryou seemed to step back, startled. Without saying a single word, Nehti just glowered at Ryou, with all the might of a thousand stabs.

Oh, wonderful. And just as social as Ryou's Darkside as well. Had Marik not been nervous and disoriented as hell, he would have tried to warn himself not to link Nehti with Bakura, since they weren't the same person…he didn't have time to really think of anything, however, since Nehti instantly turned around again, to pierce him with those eyes, just for good measure. Marik yet again experienced that pleasant sensation of being scrutinized as an ant by a LaserScope.

“I've seen him before…” a suspicious, alien voice sounded, and it took a moment for Marik, who was fighting not to look at Nehti at all costs, to realize it was the raven haired ancient who had spoken. A sound…a voice which seemed to come from Marik's dreams- a nightmare from another life. It was a bit higher than the usual male octave and hoarse altogether, and Marik recalled having heard it scream.

The fact that this raven-man spoke to Ryou as though Marik wasn't even in the room angered him more than anything else, and he suddenly felt an unexpected hurtful pang of jealousy override any other emotion. It seems as though Ryou had managed, yet again, to win some little territory that was just impossible for Marik…at least always in the beginning. Marik tried to comfort himself by the fact that they were cousi-…wait! cousins! How did Ryou know?

“Wait a sec.” Marik started talking, not noticing how his intrinsic curiosity made him break the ice once again, and dare to speak to Nehti and Ryou so freely “Ryou, how did you find out you were cousins?”

“It's true that I didn't know we were cousins” Ryou started explaining, behind Nehti, who was still glaring at Marik as though his life depended on it “But it seems Kaiba was willing to be of assistance and-“

Suddenly, it was as though a nuclear bomb had fallen. At the mentioning of the name `Kaiba', Nehti whirled around so violently to grab Ryou, that his black hair hit Marik's face when he turned.

“what?” Marik couldn't see Nehti's face, but he recognized the animalistic tone of that voice from long, long ago, when he'd seen Nehti hanging in the lab “Where is he? Where?” Nehti was shouting, his nails visibly digging in a gasping Ryou's shoulders.

“I'm right here.” Was heard Seto's calm voice from behind Marik. The tanned boy turned to see Nehti's reaction, but he didn't really manage to see anything apart from a black blur. Within seconds the tense room had turned to chaotic. Big Bad Rascal was hiding behind Mai's knees with his sister, frightened, as they watched the adults shouting in a riot. Bakura was literally on Kaiba. He'd assaulted him within milliseconds. Ryou was trying to rip him away from a mildly irritated Seto, while Marik watched, transfixed, as Nehti was trying not to punch or kick Kaiba, but instead to bite him. In fact, Nehti was clawing at him with those sharp nails, eyes wide and desperate.

“I'll kill you…you murderer!” he was raving like a lunatic, reiterating the same phrase over and over again.

“NO! Nehti! It's not who you think it is!” Serenity tried to restrain him “He has nothing to do with Gozaburo!”

“I don't care who it is, woman, as long as he goes by that name!” Bakura literally barked at her, and Marik was overtaken by a sense of dιjΰ vu as he watched Bakura go at it. Kaiba, now actually requiting Bakura's `tender touches', had started to brawl in a very barbaric manner, tossing Bakura to the ground and attempting to punch his face to the floor.

“YOU DID THIS TO US!” Bakura literally screamed through a split lip, making Mai's little ones run to hide in the kitchen. Kaiba was about to respond to Bakura's kick in kind, when Marik shouted.

“STOP!” the tanned boy, frowning at a dissatisfied Kaiba, watched the CEO still over Bakura, who was still desperately thrashing, not realizing that Kaiba had stopped fighting. Of course, being a robot, Kaiba stayed unaffected by his opponent's desperate hits.

“Kill me then, go on!” Nehti was yelling “What are you waiting for? What the hell are you waiting for? Please just kill me! KILL ME!”

And so, they all paid witness to what Bakura must have been like when he first woke up as a spirit as well. Obviously, he had no memory of Rewind 1, or what he'd seen as Ryou's Darkside, but still retained his previous memories of who and what he was. They all bore witness to the insecurities, to the self-hate that hid behind Bakura's rudeness and hate for other people. Kaiba was doing nothing. He wasn't even touching him, but Bakura was begging him to kill him. He was actually begging to be killed.

This kind of self-mutilating insecurity often hides behind people who pretend to hate others so intensely, but instead hate themselves, believing they're dirty. Children or youngsters who've been abused in a very young age often think this way about themselves and try to make everyone hate them, so they can justify their `filthiness' in their own minds. Marik had never recognized Bakura's behaviour so clearly before. Perhaps because he knew Nehti's story and he understood Nehti spherically as a personality- not as something as abstract as `the spirit of the Ring'- he could make the logical connections, finally.

“Why aren't you moving? Why—why—why can't you end it?” Bakura was shouting, and no one dared to do anything, not even stop him. This abnormal, and most erratic behaviour was exactly what they'd been trying to forget, by acting happy and relieved. Now, Bakura was giving them a fresh reminder that he couldn't forget. He couldn't extract himself from Eruna- not really. The pain was too much. Only he knew the secrets of what had happened to him in that god-forsaken place. And he was left with all those memories. No one had expected this breakdown from a man as darkly composed as Nehti…

The shouting match he could deal with…however, when Marik saw Nehti's eyes roll back perilously and he recognized foam starting to come out of his mouth, he telepathically ordered Kaiba to move away and tried to climb on top of Bakura himself, in hopes of calming him.

But it was too late. Joey was shouting, Yugi was shouting, Ryou was nearly crying, everything was happening so fast. Nehti, underneath Marik's trembling limbs, had gone into spasms and was now convulsively rolling on the ground, trying to breathe through the foam coming out of his mouth in currents.

“Oh my God!” Serenity was too shocked to move, and Mai was rushing somewhere Marik couldn't see. The next thing he knew was Bakura's frantically rolling eyes, which were trying to focus but failing. Marik didn't know what to do. He was trying to stop Bakura from biting too hard down his tongue and clawing so hard at his own body, as if trying to tear it.

“Bakura…” he was saying in as soothing a voice he could manage through his pounding heart “I'm here…Bakura…” But suddenly, there came a sharp pain in his shoulders, like a dozen little pins piercing them at once. Not having time to understand what had hurt him, feeling the wild adrenaline pumping at having Bakura's arms around him, he turned quickly to Bakura's face, where the wide eyes were staring steadily right at him. After that, his eyes rolled back again, and his body slacked, with the last residue of foam clinging still to his pale lips. Marik quickly turned to see what had rendered him unconscious and saw a compassionate Mai hovering on top of them, with an empty syringe in her hand.

As the crisis was over, and Bakura lay under him, helpless, weak and paranoid, Marik turned to see the others. Joey's warm eyes were now wide with terrorized shock, and the same stood for all the others, except an expressionless Kaiba and a tearful Ryou.

Marik was helped up by Rishid, who tried to make sure Marik was all right. Careless of his own condition, Marik just watched Ryou and Yugi try to take hold of Bakura. As he moved to help them, though, Marik felt a sharp sting on his shoulder. He turned to see what the nuisance was and discerned, on both his shoulders, the half-moon marks of nails, which have dug into skin.

-

“Where is he?” was heard a soft female alto from outside the door.

“He's inside, been there all night long…” the other female response, this time by Mai's exclusive voice. The rest was muffled from inside, so Marik paid no heed to it. He wasn't in the mood for focusing on anything, really.

He slowly turned from where he was looking out the window to observe the man lying on the nearby bed. Bakura- or was it Nehti- was lying quietly on his side, face mostly covered by black locks, some of which were long enough to graze the floor. His limbs were curled in the position of the foetus, save for one of his arms, which stretched over the side of the bed. Standing there, silently observing the calm figure, Marik suddenly realized that he hadn't seen Bakura sleep, just sleep, ever. He'd only seen him either awake and alert or unconscious and numb. But never sleeping.

And now that Marik saw him, the sleeping posture was really so extremely defensive, that it struck Marik that Bakura's really was all barking and no biting. He'd have never expected Bakura to be so…so…curled up when he was sleeping. He'd expected some sort of position, like spread like an eagle, which would imply Bakura's not caring for anyone else except himself. Marik thought that, as he himself proved, the saying was right: the more uncaring a person looks, the more self-conscious he actually is, and the opposite.

Marik approached the other man's bedside and sat down at the nearby shaggy armchair, which creaked a little under his weight. This house rally was archaic, let alone extremely small. It only had two bedrooms, which were currently reserved for the patients. All the others slept in the living room, or in the corridors. But of course, this house was more than enough for Joey's financial capacity. Not to forget it was Serenity's father's old house.

Marik sighed a little, closing his eyes. He was extremely tired, but could not sleep. He'd tried, again and again, but he couldn't. Nehti's expressive face, merged with that last, incredibly sensual, image he had of Bakura in Ryou's body, were enough to keep him awake. To torture him by making him wonder who this Nehti really was.

He'd been in this room ever since yesterday evening, and now it was afternoon. Of course, the landscape outside the house never changed: it was always black, day in day out. This helped lose his sense of time and space. Ryou had stayed there with him for a bit last night, but, as though he realized his presence more distracted Marik than comforted him, he'd soon left. And so, Marik had been left alone, pondering what his feelings meant, what his indifference meant and what this black haired man meant.

As he sat there, absently tearing at the little threads on his chair's shaggy arms, his eyes slipped to Nehti's face, and he noticed something; that red bandana thing. Why was Nehti so obsessed with it? Marik knew his fair share of 20th century Earth history. Perhaps it was one of those Italian folks with the red clothes…what was it again? Garli…no…Gabilaldi….? Nah…oh well, whatever. Or maybe he was with the Germans who wore the red cloths? Nah…Bakura wasn't German. Perhaps with the communists then? With Che? Oh, Marik remembered Che all right. The man's name had made an impression on him, so he always remembered it afterwards…

But Bakura didn't seem a likely candidate for any of this. As Marik allowed his mind to trail over what Bakura's red cloth could mean, he let his eyes fearlessly roam over Nehti's body for the thousandth time. He watched the man's face, his lips, that looked so soft, the gentle, almost feminine curve of his curled hip. It was hard to believe that a body as creamy and soft as this was only hours ago thrashing around, spitting foam.

What was it? An epileptic crisis? Well, it could easily be cured in 2650, but still…Perhaps it was the residual effects of those series of experiments he had gone through in Eruna…Marik felt his skin crawl merely at thinking of the name. But it was logical to assume this. Since Bakura's biological functions had been altered to match Noa's, it would only be logical for the man to suffer health problems later on…however was this really the case…?

Marik's swirling mind turned back to focus on what he was watching, and his eyes slipped again to that blasted red slip of cloth, half hidden inside the black nest of hair. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, and thinking Nehti was too exhausted to suddenly wake up, anyway, he sat straighter and reached out carefully.

True to Marik's predictions, Nehti didn't even change his breath pattern when Marik bent over him. The blond boy, feeling a familiar exhilaration, gently touched the red, gauze-like material, searching for the edge. He was lucky and found it in the exposed part of Bakura's head. With experienced, feathery touches and a heart beating so wildly he feared Bakura would hear it, he slowly started unwrapping what little he could of the cloth.

He managed to slacken it enough for it to gently slip off. It only took a few tender touches, and it had slipped off Bakura's face. As he turned to look at the -finally exposed- part of Bakura's forehead, he suddenly felt like it was silent…perhaps…too silent. Bakura's breathing had stopped. He turned his eyes to look at Bakura's neck and saw a vein pumping quickly -and not at all like that of someone who is sleeping. Realizing his blunder, Marik turned around to run out of the room, but he wasn't fast enough. Before he knew it, he could feel the sharp edges of Bakura's nails dig in the tender skin of his throat. Bakura had managed to grab his neck in a chocking grasp before Marik had even managed to move. His red eyes dilated and glaring “I told you to run while you could, but you didn't listen, did you?” he said, in his crawling low voice.

A sudden spark of horror and hope ignited in Marik's soul, and he didn't even care as Nehti pushed him backwards and let him drop unceremoniously to the floor. What Nehti just said…it was the same at what he'd told Marik 600 years ago..did that mean…!

“Although it confuses me as to how you're still alive after 600 years, and only a little older than last time as well… Did you honestly think I wouldn't eventually remember a face as ugly as yours, pretty boy?” Nehti sneered over the fallen Marik, red eyes turning dark magenta in the blue dark light “Well no such luck.” The man with the long hair said, and, holding his loose red bandana in place, he draped a black cape over his scantily-clad body, and left the room.

-

“Don't call him that” Big Bad Rascal was shouting, when Marik finally came downstairs again, the next day. After a long shower, he'd managed to get over the shock, which had, of course, accompanied the annoying nickname. God, he hated that nickname. `Pretty boy'. It sounded as though he was a gigolo or something.

“Well whashummacall it, then? Pinky?” Joey laughed, pointing at Rascal's new droid contraption, this one specifically designed to sing lullabies for Zora. In all truth, it was very pink.

“NO!” Rascal was complaining, stomping his feet on Mai's freshly polished floor “call him something that sounds cool, like 'Omega'”

“Why?” Joey asked, seemingly confused “What does he have to do with the alphabet?”

“Again with the inventions, I see?” Marik's voice called from the stairs as he descended slowly. When Rascal and Joey turned towards him, their eyes became as wide as saucers, and Marik felt a surge of long forgotten pride bubble up to the surface.

“What the hell happened to you? Won the beauty contest or something?” Joey was saying, looking at Marik as though he couldn't believe that stingy creature he had welcomed in his home was actually this attractive a guy.

“JOEY! No cussing in front of the kids!” Mai's admonition came from inside the kitchen, followed by Marik's indifferent toss of hair.

“Oh well, just because you met me in a difficult period of my life” he started, winking at Rascal “doesn't mean I have to look like you.” He finished, making Joey splutter and do various indecent gestures, which he proceeded to make Rascal swear he wouldn't display in front of his mother.

Marik laughed along, trying not to show how flattered he'd actually been at the comment about his appearance. It had been a while since the last time he'd felt good about himself. Now, having resumed his classic style of jewelry and well-fitting clothes, he felt a bit like normal. Besides, let's say there had been some recent events, which had made him look at things from a new point of view…

“Lunch is almost ready! Call the others!” Mai's order came from the half-open kitchen door.

“YESSIR!” Joey shouted, while making mocking gestures and shaking his head at the kitchen door “Sheesh…hey kid, don't tell your mom I did that.”

Rascal just shook his head and left to call Yugi and Tea downstairs, all the time sporting Joey's mocking grimace “sheesh” he said, walking away.

“Hey Kaiba.” Marik greeted, seeing the CEO walk towards the exit of the house. It had been agreed that he'd be leaving when everybody gathered downstairs, so as not to distress Nehti and repeat the last `episode' as they'd come to call it. They'd tried to explain to Nehti that Kaiba was an invincible robot, but, apparently, it had been just impossible for him to understand. Perhaps the pain had been too fresh.

“You ok?” although it was a somewhat moronic question to ask a robot, it somehow made Marik feel like Kaiba was a bit more human if someone asked him that.

“Please refrain from so openly displaying your lack of taste in clothes, Ishtar” Kaiba said, unpleasantly, as always “some of us would like to rest sans nightmares during the night”.

Marik kept grinning “You're one to talk, you sleep-deprived robot” he barked out in laughter, and watched Kaiba's nonchalant eyes blink.

“Whatever” the blue-eyed freak just said, and then turned to leave “idiot”.

When Marik finally entered the kitchen, he was still laughing. He loved this guy! His unchanging robotic-ness was so funny! Mai noticed him laughing and smiled “Well, see who decided to come out of his room, after all!” she snickered “Any reason why you were so reluctant to join us at dinner last night?” she asked innocently, as though she already knew the answer.

Marik, suddenly remembering she'd seen Bakura and he in a very compromising position, chose to splutter indignantly instead of answering that. Mai, smirking, turned around and occupied herself with her cooking. Marik was hoping to sneak out the room unnoticed, but Mai called for his help.

“I need you to hold this for me.” She said, and he suddenly had an armful of…well, it looked like an automatic fruit peeler? Marik really was worse than Mai in cooking, and that said something…

“Master…” a calm voice suddenly sounded and Marik turned to see a purple-clad Rishid enter the kitchen. He looked at Marik, who was holding…whatever it was he was holding…and raised an eyebrow. “Learning how to cook, Master Marik?” he guessed, and Marik's frowning expression was all he got in response.

“Care for a chess match before our meal?” Rishid proposed genially, and Marik was grateful for his incessantly warm attitude.

“Why not?” he asked and unceremoniously left Mai's…contraption on a nearby stool.

“Hey!” Mai protested with a glare, but Marik shrugged at her with a cheeky smirk and turned his attention back to Rishid as they walked back to the living room “But where will we find a chessboard?” Marik wondered, and Rishid pointed to a small cupboard on a corner of the room.

“How did that get here?” Marik wondered, but was not particularly anxious to find out. In general, he'd been trying to stop seeing everything as potential threats these last few days. Rewind 1 had changed him more than he'd initially thought, and he was trying to recover on every aspect.

Thus, the old friends settled for a match, where Marik took black and Rishid white, as usual. Time went by and they didn't realize it, becoming quickly absorbed in their strategic little world. Rascal had tried to distract them by hopping around more than once. When that didn't work, he'd started observing the game, trying to figure out ways to cheat.

Mai's calls for the others to come down had been ignored enough, however. Marik and Rishid bore witness as she finally walked out of the kitchen and upstairs, where she started cursing her husband for ignoring her. When she came back down, it is possible she didn't notice the two opponents and her son trying to muffle their giggles, but more likely than not, she was happy they were laughing, even if it was on her expanse.

After some indeterminate time passed, people started coming down in search for lunch. Mai whined a bit that they hadn't immediately come down, but she was so sweet that no one could seriously be annoyed by her. Yugi and Tea came down, now curiously behaving a little goofy around each other. Marik wondered if it had anything to do with when he caught them hugging a bit too ardently yesterday, but chose to ignore it. Yugi approached their table and stared down at the chess board, curious.

“What is this thing you guys like playing so much?” he asked, honestly eager to find out the reason behind this obsession. Marik shrugged and remained focused on his next move, not really having heard what Yugi had said. Rishid, on the other hand, who was waiting for Marik's move, answered,

“It's called chess. An old strategic game” he calmly said, scratching the stubble on his chin skeptically.

Yugi's eyes started to sparkle brilliantly as he observed the laughable plastic pawns “Strategy! Oh I love strategy!” he proclaimed.

“Oh no…” Tea's small voice came from somewhere in the background “not another game! Come on, Yugi! Mai's food will get cold!” and she tried to tug Yugi away from the game that rivaled his attention.

“Umm…Tea” Yugi started, with a mutter “Don't you think Mai's food will be better if…” It seems as though not only Marik had noticed Mai's culinary talents, or lack thereof.

“Why I never…” Tea started saying, but was cut of by Yugi, who was eagerly observing the progress of the game.

“Hey guys! Teach me how to play sometime, k?” he urged, eyes extremely glittery and slightly dreamy. At that moment, Marik settled on moving his knight and completed yet another part of his long-term plan, which he'd been meaning to test on Rishid for some time. Once he made his move, he turned to Yugi and snorted, while running a hand through his hair.

“As if! I don't want to teach you anything! You'll just keep beating me in it!” he bluntly told an affronted Yugi, who raised his hands in mock surrender.

“It's not my fault if-“ Yugi started, but was towed along by a fuming Tea, who was muttering something about annoying boys with short attentions spans, or something of the like.

A few minutes after these two entered the kitchen, Joey came down the stairs, wrapping bandages around his hyper arms, with Serenity and Zora following him and the little girl holding `Omega' in her small chubby arms.

“…and so I went on telling him about, you know, this idea of mine and he seemed interested, but then we went to that store and he was always eating, and so I thought, forget it, and then with Tristan, we…” Joey was saying, with his usual, unique sense of non-syntax. Seriously. This goofy man had the power to convert even the simplest of sentences to a riddle.

Serenity, with her slim eyebrows knit together in concentration, was actually attempting to follow his chaotic trail of thought—a task which Marik had long ago abandoned as impossible. Usually, when speaking to Joey, Marik just nodded at the right intervals and watched the other blond youth go at it, enjoying Joey's eternal spark of youth. Joey had this unbelievable quality: however old you were or he was, he'd always emit the air of a perky youngster ready for action. Just like Mai, actually. They were one of the greatest couples Marik had ever seen, if not the greatest.

“Uncle Menace! Uncle Menace!” Zora came shouting to Marik, having adopted Rascal's nickname for him. She was disappointed to find `uncle Menace' utterly focused on his chess game -which he seemed to be beating, by the way, since the new strategy had paid off- but she wouldn't leave him like that for long.

“Uncle Menace…?” she questioned in a comically childish voice “why are you wearing the sparkles mommy wears?” she asked, and Marik's attention was sufficiently diverted in order to see she was pointing at his earrings.

“Mommy's are much uglier than mine” he smugly declared, rolling his eyes at a flabbergasted Zora.

“WHAWAWAWA!”

No worries. Rascal had just ran in, again, pretending to be dancing like an Indian. Again.

“Honestly, Joey” Rishid started saying, in an offended tone “is that child hyperkinetic? I remember Marik at that age- I would have never let him run around like that.” He said, not knowing how uncharacteristically snobbish he actually sounded. Right now he was Rishid: the good and honourable tutor. Marik, however, was pretending not to be paying attention to any of this. I mean, he was focusing.

“Oh really?” Joey sneered “Is that why he always walks as if there's a pole up his ass?…don't tell your mom I said that.”

“Joey!” Serenity laughed and gave him a friendly hit at the elbow. Joey shrugged and smirked when Marik turned to pin him with a death glare.

“Hey Menace! Is that cabbage stuck in your teeth?” Rascal suddenly asked, making Marik reflexively put a hand over his mouth.

“HA! Sucker!” Rascal shouted and started to run around. Then he added, as an afterthought “Don't tell mom I said that”

Marik was left glaring, yet he kept inconspicuously trying to pick at his teeth without being obvious. But then, wait a minute…he hadn't eaten cabbage! He hated cabbage!

“Check” Rishid suddenly said, earning a groan from Marik. The tanned boy, trying not to let on that he'd been too preoccupied with his teeth to focus on the game, made an extravagant show of moving his eyebrows, trying to convince Rishid that he hadn't been caught unprepared. Naturally, it didn't work, and Rishid grinned somewhat smugly.

Things were pretty bad in this game- Marik was with his back against the wall. Rishid had somehow managed to break his triple-super- uberizing pawn combo, and now Marik was about to lose spectacularly, combos and all.

With his eyebrows furrowed and a nail between his lips, he had completely focused his attention on the game. In fact, he was about to make a move when he felt something on his shoulder. For a heart retching moment, when he saw something pale flash in front of his eyes, he thought it was Bakura - whether `Bakura' was Ryou's body or Nehti's wasn't yet clear. However, when he turned around, he only saw Serenity's bright smile.

“I'd move the bishop if I were you.” She advised, and turned to leave, smiling sweetly at a back-stabbed Rishid.

“Hey! That's not vewry faiwr!” Zora remarked, smart girl that she was. But Marik had already moved his bishop, and Serenity already gone in the kitchen.

It took a few more minutes for the final ones to arrive. Their descent was announced by the creaking of the stairs and muffled footfalls. Marik was bent forwards, elbows on the chair's handles and head over the chessboard, when the noises alerted him. Because the others had talked while coming down, he hadn't paid much heed. This worked as a reflex, however, from his nightmarish experience in Eruna. Odd squeaky sounds equal trouble.

As it turned out, however, it was Ryou and his occult cousin, one paler than the other. Nehti was walking last, with his eyes fixed in a narrowed glare, as though being led to the guillotine. Ryou, walking first, gave a silent nod of greeting to the sitting players. Nehti, however, didn't do anything but exchange a silent, icy stare with Marik. Ryou walked to the kitchen door, which opened automatically, but when he saw his partner was lingering on the staircase, he turned around and made an encouraging move with his head.

Marik refused to even care what was happening, so he'd turned back to his game, not really seeing any of the pieces. A small egging word from Ryou, and the door had closed behind them. Marik let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

“Your move” Rishid's voice jarred him back to reality, and he again felt embarrassed at being unable to focus. With a guilty look, he met Rishid' s warm, knowing smile.

“I'm thinking” he said, refusing to accept he'd been nothing but. Or, at least, with the wrong hea-

“You know, Marik” Rishid started, amazingly not calling him `Master', but Marik. It was actually enough to disrupt Marik's derailed thoughts “He didn't come down to dinner yesterday either…”

Marik didn't let out a word, since his heart had started that familiar constricting again, and he was afraid how desperate he may sound “Oh?” he simply said, managing even so to sound uninterested about the matter. His eyes were turned to the chess pieces still, but they were fixed on the void, betraying his wayward thinking.

“Yes…” Rishid continued, taking a pawn in his hand and peeling the cheap paint off it. Marik tried with all his might not to shake every last bit of information out of him “In fact…” he continued, torturously slowly “I think he's a bit afraid…you know. He was like that the first time Ryou introduced him to us…of course after that you came and…”

And he had an epileptic crisis Marik thought bitterly. Yup, That hadn't gone very well for a first impression, had it? But what was he saying? He didn't care about making a good impression! He didn't!

“Well, and you know what happened…” Rishid finished curtly, then lapsed into more thoughts “But before that, he seemed…scared. His eyes are constantly haunted. As though he's afraid of us. He looked like a little kid. Insecure.”

Marik wanted to tell his mentor that Nehti hadn't seemed at all insecure last evening, when he'd practically affronted Marik. But he thought it best not to mention that little episode. Besides, he had a feeling what Rishid was trying to say was different.

“I mean…” Rishid started “That I think he's trying to act tough and untouchable with you…but really, it shows how scared he is. If you were my age, you'd see it too, clear as day. So all you have to do is be nice to him, and he'll…uh…he'll come `round.” He finished, and suddenly seemed extremely uncomfortable by the direction this conversation had taken. He cleared his throat, and, had Marik not been so stunned by what he'd just been told, he may have laughed at his discomfort.

“So…uh…” Rishid was left saying, and Marik asked him the question, which had honestly been burning him all along.

“Why are you telling me this…why do you think I care?” he asked, taking care not to sound offensive but indifferently curious.

Rishid suddenly smiled at that and stood up, patting Marik's shoulder lightly “If you were my age, you'd see that too.” He finished, and Marik had that annoying dιjΰ vu from when he'd been a kid and was always told “I'll tell you when you grow up”.

As Rishid walked toward the kitchen and Marik was left in that unmoving expression of mute suspension, there sounded a sudden noise from the left and a small little ball ran through the room shouting “WAHEAWEAAAAA”.

Nah. Marik didn't want to remember about when he was little. Just in time, the kitchen door opened and revealed Mai standing behind it, glorious hair cascading down her shapely body, arms crossed and foot tapping. Along with her came an onslaught of muffled noises from inside the kitchen.

“Well, are you coming? We're waiting for you!” she asked, eyebrows raised in annoyance.

“Just coming, Miss Mai” Rishid said, with a small inclination of his head “the match has been determined” he said, and Marik could have sworn the other man winked at him. Rishid. Winked.

“Well, I'm glad for that. Now let's eat!” a bouncy Mai exclaimed, and ushering her hyperactive son inside the kitchen, she shot a glance at what Marik was doing.

“Forget about that!” she said “I'll tidy it up! You come inside and eat!”

“Yes mommy…” Marik mumbled under his breath, as a guffawing Rascal dragged him inside. What he'd actually meant to say was `That's what I'm afraid of', but thought better of it, having noticed the sharpness of Mai's stilettos.

-

“Pass me the salad, will ya?” the clinging sound of forks and knives had filled the room. There wasn't much chatter, since an undercurrent of discomfort remained from the day before, with Nehti's episode.

The seating arrangements seemed random, but Marik knew they probably weren't. Joey and the two kids sat on one side of the table, along with Rishid and Marik. Opposite them were arranged Mai, Tea, Yugi, Serenity and Ryou, beside whom Nehti sat statuesque, quiet, and with his eyes to the floor. Marik noticed that Nehti was a bit isolated, since he was on the far, far end of the table and nobody sat opposite him. Marik himself sat on the direct geometrical opposite from him, since he was located on the other edge of the table, on the opposite side.

Marik reminded himself that fussing over sitting arrangements was for kids. It made him a tad uncomfortable, however, that there was general uncomfortable silence around him, when he knew that none of his friends usually behaved like this. Perhaps the crisis the day before had affected them much, much more than they let on.

“So what is this Mai?” Ryou was trying, albeit quickly disheartened, to make small talk “Vegetables or something I don't wish to know?”

Mai, quickly grasping this chance to break the ice, lapsed into a long explanation of how she had managed to cook everything, which unfortunately didn't manage much more than to accentuate their discomfort. It all became extremely pronounced when Mai finished her monologue, looked around a bit self-consciously, knowing very well that this was not her usual behaviour, and turned back to her food. Joey cleared his throat and tried again.

“So, Tristan called” he started saying, putting some spice on his food “He says everything's okay at work, although I'll have to go back on Monday”.

Joey had taken a small break from work in the factory because of his arm injury. However, as he knew, he had to go back soon.

“But Joey, I thought you'd be coming back to Mercury, with us.” Serenity told a surprised Joey, and Mai flushed “Oh no, Serena…” she started saying “we can't ask such a favour….”

“That's nonsense” Tea filled in “I know for a fact that-”

“No, I don't want my little sister to think I'm helpless.” Joey said, with finality “we have our own life here…” he seemed a bit disappointed, even as he said it. Although the subject was a bit bitter, it was enough to draw Serenity, Ryou and Joey's family in a tense discussion. Unfortunately, it only amplified the feeling of displacement for everyone else. On the table, apart from the main discussion about what Joey's family would do, sub-groups of conversations started to form.

Rishid, Tea and Yugi were saying something about Yango, and the kids were making a small fuss. Marik was trying to follow what Ryou was saying, but really his attention was focused on the albino's dark friend, who sat silently, staring at the blank seat opposite him.

Marik, trying to be inconspicuous, joined in a conversation with Yugi about Pegasus' new game investments. However, he was noticing all different kinds of things about Nehti. Mainly that enen though Ryou had served him some food, he hadn't touched anything. With his eyes lowered almost in a manner of virginal composure, Nehti just…sat there. Not moving. Not speaking. It was as though the atmosphere around him was constantly a few degrees lower than normal. Ryou, who was sitting next to him and was preoccupied with Serenity, periodically turned to Nehti and prompted him to eat, but to no avail.

“Marik? Are you listening?” Yugi's voice suddenly wrung, and Marik flushed a bit as he realized he'd been staring off to Bakura. He quickly turned to Yugi and nodded, so the boy grinned a bit and continued with his lecture about why people like Pegasus should just be banned from the face of a decent planet.

Marik was careful to look at the speaker and nod at all the right times, but his mind was still somewhere else. He remembered how he'd felt in Nehti's presence when he was a child, and recalled that childish feeling that all little boys have when faced with a teenager: impressed and jealous in their adoration. Small kids generally get jealous of and are impressed by teenagers, since they can do what little ones can't. However, Marik ironically thought, Nehti's position when he'd met him had been nothing to envy or admire. No matter, however, Marik had been so impressed by the youth's overpowering presence—at least that's what he'd felt at the time. What he didn't know when he was younger, and easily recognized now, was that his supposed `admiration' was in fact some kind of intrinsic craving. He still felt it even now- he felt overpowered by it…as though he somehow needed to have a man like Nehti in his life. Bakura…Bakura had evoked the same reaction from him…but then, wasn't Nehti the same man as Bakura? It was so confusing!

Marik started thinking if Rishid had been right, however. Now that he saw Nehti not with the eyes of an awed child but with those of an `objective male peer', Nehti seemed just as mysterious, just as attractive, but completely unsure of himself. His eyes unconsciously followed the raven-haired man's movements again, and he noticed how lowered Bakura kept his eyes- still glaring, but lowered. He had his fingers stapled gracefully on the table, and his ebony hair flowed in wavy ribbons over his alabaster cheeks. Coupled with his black, femininely shaped, eyebrows, the power of his red eyes was amplified by a hundred. But, truly, now that Marik finally saw him in a calm and homey environment, he seemed extremely out of place, like he didn't know what to do with his hands or how to touch the fork if he didn't have anything to claw or scream at…He'd stayed in Kuru Eruna consciously for four years before they put him to sleep…so he probably didn't even remember how to act in less than nightmarish surroundings anymore. Marik cursed Rishid for being right: people got more perceptive when they got older.

Nehti suddenly moved in an attempt to try using the fork, staring at it like it was an uncooperative alien. Marik turned back to Yugi and started answering the boy's long monologue, which had just finished. He was just getting into talking about games, when Joey make a quick movement in the seat next to him.

Marik didn't even have time to inquire what had jarred Joey when…“AHH!” the sharp cry cut through everyone's tranquil conversation, and they all immediately stopped to stare at Zora, who was sitting on Joey's other side. Marik, confused as to what had happened, observed the girl, who was sitting there frozen, eyes wide and positively terrified. She was almost crying, having jumped against her father and hugging his side with all she was worth.

Following her terrified eyes, Marik saw she was looking at an equally frozen Nehti. With his arm stretched in front of him towards a bowl, it looked as though he'd been in the middle of trying to reach the salad when he'd scared Zora out of her wits.

“D…Daddy…” the little girl was shaking, looking at Bakura as though he was some kind of three-headed monster come to skin her alive and feed her intestines to a pack of rabid wolves. Joey pat her head, careful not to hurt her with his HyperArms, trying to calm her down, telling her it was all right. Marik watched Bakura carefully, noticing every little detail of his face, as the man sat staring at the little girl, who now had tears rolling down her cheeks. There were no words to describe Nehti's expression- at least none that Marik knew of. If Zora looked scared, Nehti looked terrified. If Zora looked sad, Nehti looked like he wanted to rip his heart out so it would stop hurting. Whatever that expression was, it wasn't an expression Marik would have ever imagined to see on Bakura. It was too…personal.

“I'm very sorry! Don't know what got into her! Zora, apologize to our guest!” Mai was saying, looking at Zora with an urging frown. But the little girl just squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Joey's clothes.

Perhaps, the thought hit Marik, as he watched Joey uncomfortably try to apologize to an unmoving, unblinking Bakura, perhaps this was what Bakura was like when he first woke up as a spirit. This, though, was even worse, since Nehti had all his memories of Kuru Eruna and didn't need people to tell him he was a monster: he already felt like it. This must have been what later turned Bakura into a hostile and spiteful ghoul: this constant living in self-hate. Unwanted. Feared by little children. No one wanted to be near him on the table. No one wanted much to do with him.

“It's all right, Joey…” Ryou was supposedly answering in Nehti' s place “I'm sure it's because she heard us shouting yesterday and got scared, I'm sure…” but that didn't relieve Nehti himself, who was just staring at the distance, unblinking, looking like nothing mattered to him anymore. Looking like he could die and not care.

Unable to stop it when he saw that positively self-destructive expression, Marik literally let out the first thing that came to his mind “Hey, Bakura…” he interrupted Ryou, and watched as the red eyes moved to look at him, as if through a dream “…I wanted to show you something, before! So let's just take lunch and eat upstairs! What do you say?” he asked nervously, under the scrutiny of those forlorn eyes.

He didn't know whether this would serve as an insult rather than an invitation out of this discomfort, but decided to risk it nonetheless. When many moments passed without an answer, Ryou took it upon himself to relieve everybody “I'm sure that's not necess-“

“That's fine, Ryo.” Bakura's scratchy voice suddenly said, his eyes finally lowering from Marik's and focusing on the worried albino near him. Ryou, letting out a small sigh inclined his head and muttered something only for his cousin to hear. Bakura just nodded curtly and turned back to Marik, who was wondering, along with all the others, why Ryou's words had sounded a bit strange…had they not heard well?

“Let's go.” Nehti just said, and looked back in Marik's eyes, as though waiting for him to make the first move. Marik nodded to himself and stood up with his plate, and Bakura, taking his queue, followed with much slower and resigned movements. The tanned youngster hurried to Bakura's seat and took the other man's plate politely, all the while moving in utter silence. He motioned for the raven man to follow and turned to the door.

“See ya later, guys!” he called as he walked out. But before he'd completely exited, he heard Ryou's voice call.

“Bakura…boku mo kitakunai no ka?” he asked clearly, in the same strange wording Marik had heard moments ago, which he realized was japanese. And everyone watched, surprised, as Nehti -the man who could hardly speak modern language without archaisms- answered flawlessly.

“Hitori de daijoubu da zo” and just like that, with a solemn swish of his dark cape, he'd walked after Marik.

-

The boy with the amethyst eyes was surprised. Bakura had never known Japanese…But come to think of it, `Yuuta Bakura' was a japanese name…and so was `Ryou'…'Nehti', however, had nothing to do with 20th century Japan, at least not that Marik knew of. Given, however, that both Nehti and Ryou had been living in a western country back then, it would be logical that they were either second or third generation of japanese immigrants. Who knew? The fact that Marik didn't know what they were saying was yet another small victory of Ryou over Marik, even though Ryou wasn't doing it on purpose.

He discreetly checked the silent Nehti while they were ascending the stairs, and found him staring off to nothingness again. Great. Was this how constructive their evening was going to be? Bakura in his own thoughts and Marik trying to think of a way to make him talk?

They were still each in his own thoughts when they reached the door to Marik's chamber. The blond stepped to the side for Bakura to pass first. For a moment, Nehti didn't quite get it and stayed put, but when Marik gave him a prodding glance, he nodded and walked in, the door opening automatically.

This was originally the kids' bedroom, so it had all kinds of weird toys in it- Rascal's droids, Zora's little stuffed animals. Marik cursed himself for not thinking ahead- he wasn't so sure Nehti would enjoy being surrounded by all this after what had happened. But then again, who knew what Nehti enjoyed, if anything?

Marik, full plates in hand, entered after him and looked for somewhere to sit. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, feeling again like a teenager who was learning how to adjust to his body. Bakura, on the contrary, moved without batting an eyelash to the only available seat, the lower bunk bed, and settled down, still blankly staring at the distance.

Marik consciously resisted the reflex of clearing his throat, knowing very well that it could signify nervousness. He didn't need Bakura to believe Marik saw him as a nuisance as well. Because this was the problem, as Rishid had said. Marik believed he was right, and was resolved to break that icy shell.

“Here” he offered Bakura his food, and the other took it somewhat reluctantly, looking at it with obvious lack of appetite. Marik, who wasn't feeling very hungry either, occupied himself by pretending to shuffle around his plate—at least it gave him something to do.

Things progressively got worse and worse. Without the background of another seven people chatting around them, the silence was deafening. At least for Marik. His partner, as a stolen look revealed, wasn't much interested in anything. He was just sitting there, having obviously gone into some sort of depressive shock, since he was just staring mutely at the void.

This time the tanned boy couldn't help the uncomfortable little cough. As though in slow motion, Nehti blinked his huge eyes slowly -thick, long eyelashes moving like silk- and turned slowly to look at him, as though weary of what Marik wanted.

“You're not eating…” Marik commented, somewhat uselessly “don't like the food?”

Bakura clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes halfway, crossing his arms. Uh-oh. Defensive mode. “The understatement of the millennium. I know you hate it too, despite your faked appreciative sounds.” He spat, eyes clearly averted. Had Marik not understood him so well, it may have actually worked. It was strange, really. Marik didn't know him, but he felt like he already did.

“Hey, at least she tries! You should be grateful you have at least that!” Marik good-naturedly said, careful to take the other completely aback by his lack of spiteful response. Nehti didn't answer, but focused instead on playing with his food in a disinterested nature. Then, when Marik had almost forgotten all about what they'd been talking about, he quietly said “Better than nothing I guess…” and quickly stuffed his mouth with the closest nutrient he could find, as if to erase what he'd just said. Erase the memory of Eruna.

Marik internally cringed, but on the outside just kept his expression blank. After a while, when the sound of their forks clinging had already relieved the pressure a bit, Marik's charitable voice broke the silence again.

“So…you and Ryou are cousins, huh?” he started, thinking this was the most accessible of all subjects.

“I don't want to talk about it”

Well, apparently not.

Bakura's eyes remained fixed on his food, which he was eating dispassionately…but at least he was eating. Marik stayed staring at his fork for a while, watching how it glinted in the light. He raised his eyes to his companion, suddenly, and found Bakura averting his eyes quickly. Marik tried to grin his charming smile, but he had a feeling it ended up looking different than he wanted…more nervous.

“Okay…” he started, pretending he hadn't seen Bakura staring at him and feeling desperate to act a little like his old, in-control self “What do you want to talk about then?”

Only silence answered him, and the ice Bakura's eyes: striking, alluring but a little cold also, like those of statues. The answer was obviously `nothing' and was left unsaid. However, Marik wasn't known for giving up.

“You have to talk eventually, you know…”he commented nonchalantly, as though he was describing something inevitable that would happen either way. This `inevitability' attitude of his was what probably pissed Bakura off, enough to make him deliberately keep quiet and tighten his grip on the fork. Marik cursed himself. He knew Bakura was like a kid- doing exactly the opposite of what you told him to, for the sake of spiting you alone- so why did he have to be like that! He resolved to be more careful later on. Talking to Bakura and trying to make him like you -Marik refused to admit he was doing that, of course- was like trying to tame a wild beast: every action must be deliberate, thought over and over again, so that the animal can connect wrong with punishment and right with congratulation. If you do the wrong thing by accident, you have to start all over again.

“Tell me, how did you remember me? I would have thought I went by unnoticed at the time…” Marik asked, but, again, there came no answer. Thus, Marik remained silent for a long time after that, focusing on his food. Much later, however, he couldn't help it…

“It's a bit chilly around here, isn't it?” Marik asked a bit compulsively, rubbing his arms. He thought it was a bit desperate on his part to start talking about the weather, but it was true. It was actually very cold around here; and that was weird, since he was sure the climate had been normal when they'd entered. The raven-man continued chewing his food, and Marik thought he wouldn't reply his very stupid comment. But then, while looking at his food…

“My body heat is higher than regular, so I consume more energy from the environment. I suck warmth in, if you prefer ” he tonelessly said. Marik shook his head dismissively “That's impossible ” he reassured compassionately, with a tone one may use on a little kid who was saying pigs could fly “It can't be done even today”.

“A person that freezes the air. Too monstrous, huh?” Bakura mirthlessly asked. He seemed disappointed…forlorn. Marik realized this was another one of those insecurity things.

“Is it some kind of birth trait? I don't get what's so monstrous about it.” He asked curiously, knowing of various alien races who had these kind of biological resistance mechanisms. The Crol, for example, were known for their ability to swim underwater like fishes, since they possessed both fins and lungs. And his friends, people like Rena, for example, who had alien ancestors, were given these traits. But there was no way Bakura could have such abilities, since he was 100 from Earth! Marik had forgotten about that…

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, since Bakura's pupils enlarged into translucent foggy mirrors and he looked about ready to start scratching his own face again “ Iwas n't born a monster, if that's what you don't get! You don't get it? Of course you don't get it! How could you get it! You're not the one they call freak!” he stood up now, yanking Marik up by the shirt and shaking him “You're not the boogie man with the red-eyes! You're not the one little kids are afraid of! You're not the one they dragged from one lab to another, pulling tests, injecting stuff, destroying your body, killing everyone you loved! Do you have any idea how many of my loved ones they murdered! Do you have any IDEA, what they turned me into??” he screamed, and tossed Marik to floor like a filthy rag, turning around and walking to the window dejectedly, face buried in his hands.

Marik was shaken for a few moments, but finally stood up. He made a show out of carefully wiping off the dirt from his clothes, and then, after standing and musing in the silence, he spoke.

“You're not the only one with problems, you know.” He let the statement fall like a brick. His voice wasn't comforting now, but hard and a bit condemning. Bakura turned to look at him, but he had his back turned and was staring at the wall “just because you were one out of millions of people who were tortured and killed down there doesn't give you the right to be better than everyone else. And before you start thinking how much your life sucked, I propose you be grateful you've at least lived long enough to see the future 600 years after your time. And, also, before you start making suppositions about how useless I am and how inexperienced compared to your highness, I propose you remember, as you already have, that there might be a reason I was in Kuru Eruna as well, and there might be a reason why I'm here, 600 years later, only twenty years old. Not only you have lost people you cared about, Bakura.”

With that said, he made to leave a stunned Bakura behind. He didn't bother to turn around to see the results of the Armageddon he'd just dropped, but he did stop a foot before the door, remembering something and not even thinking before he said it.

“Oh, and what the fuck is your problem with your eyes? From the time I saw you, you're bitching and moaning about them, but you really wouldn't be yourself without them, so learn to appreciate that. If it's worth anything, I like them.”

And he left.

-

“What the fuck is his problem?” the glaring man was saying, arms crossed, black hood drawn and long cape covering his slim form.

“He's just trying to help you, Nehti…” the albino comforted, chocolate eyes warming up “He's always trying to help.”

“I don't like him” the solemn voice administered with the tone of a judge that declares the verdict. Ryou couldn't help but roll his eyes. Nehti really was completely like Bakura. Well, he was Bakura. He was exactly like Bakura had been when Ryou had first discovered him in the ring, so the albino knew well how to deal with him. Although this version of Bakura was a bit more sentimental, not having lost his memories and all, he was still the same vengeful, malicious, spiteful prick that he'd always been. That's why Ryou never wanted to lose him.

“You're too quick to condemn him…” the albino advised, coming to stand near Nehti in front of the window. “Give him another chance…it hasn't been easy on him either you know…”

Ryou watched his cousins thick eyelashes blink rapidly “So he says…what happened to him..?”

The albino contemplated the question, knowing the answer would either have to be an entire novel long or a simple phrase “ He lost a twin brother…and he also lost someone he cared about very much…” the kind voice said, and Ryou turned his eyes away to stare at the distance, knowing he'd lost that person too, even if they were together again “The person he loved. Whatever you do, don't ever talk to him about him”.

“Who?” the hooded figure asked, voice sounding not curious but…well, something stronger. Not exactly envious, Ryou thought, but it was the tone Serena used sometimes…

Knowing he couldn't answer that question, the albino just shrugged, since he might regret it if he said something.

Nehti made a show out of hiding his face in his black hood and preparing not to hear what he'd been told. In fact, he'd been doing this ever since he woke up in this crazy world. 2650? He didn't want to hear it. Catacombs? Didn't want to hear it. Ryou didn't remember being his cousin…being in Kuru Eruna? Forget it. And now this guy: the little kid he barely remembered having seen somewhere in that accursed lab! Was this `Marik' guy the same as what Ryou claimed Nehti was? A person put to hibernation for 600 years? It sounded logical…whatever it was, Nehti didn't want to know. All he wanted was Kaiba's head on a silver platter. That's all that mattered.

“Whatever, I don't care. Just tell me…when can I get out of the house?” Nehti asked, pale hand reaching in his pale hood to touch the red cloth around his head. Ryou knew he was doing it again. It seemed Nehti wouldn't stop doing that movement ever since he woke up. The silver-headed albino sighed.

“Again, Nehti? I've told you a hundred times…you can't take revenge…the Big 5 are already dead, and so is Gozaburo.” The kind chestnut eyes focused on the other, reaching for that spectral hood and pulling it off to reveal a nearly weeping face. Bakura turned his face away, placing his palm on the chilly window.

“You don't understand…I have to kill them with my own hands.” He turned to Ryou, blood eyes honest in their hate “I have to !.” He raised his palms “Bury these nails in their fat, disgusting bodies and tear the flesh away. And all the blood that falls to the floor, I'm going to lick it, while they watch. Watch me take their life away like they took mine! Watch me kill everyone they ever cared about!”

Ryou's skin was crawling by now, from Bakura's horrific fantasizing, mostly because he knew Bakura would have made it all a reality if he had the chance. Suddenly, as Bakura finished his speech, Ryou felt a hand on his cheek, warm and comforting, and turned his pale face to that of his alter ego, seeing Bakura's extremely large, darkened red eyes.

“But not you, Ryou…they didn't manage to take you…” and with a sweeping motion, Ryou found himself enveloped by long arms. Not knowing how to react, he let Bakura fondle him, sensing the other's chest shake and knowing Bakura was crying. “I'm sorry…Ryou…I'm so sorry…”

Your pretty cousin…we broke him all right

--------but you're—

“I'm so sorry…because of me…”

“Kaa-san! MOTHER!”

“To Kuru Eruna, brat!”

TO KURU ERUNA!

----------------------you're my favourite doll-----

“….Sorry….” And he was sobbing by now, melting like a baby in Ryou's arms. The positions had switched, as usual, and instead of Bakura holding Ryou, it ended up like this. Ryou holding Bakura in his arms, while the other sobbed like an infant, arms against albino's chest, delicate spine shaking, black hood falling off, finally. As of yet, Ryou didn't know what Bakura was so sorry about, but he thought it was better left forgotten. Bakura remembered, and look where that had taken him. No…perhaps it was better for him not to know…

However, Bakura was damned. Whether he had his memories or not, he was damned to be tortured by them.

“It's okay…You know, sometimes I feel we know each other so well, like we're parts of the same soul…see? Even our clothes prove it. You black, me white.” Ryou said, lapsing into thoughts of his Darkside, the dark part-the other part of his soul, and how this man had been exactly that, even if he didn't know it. Bakura didn't seem disturbed by it, only laughed through his tears and tightened his grip on the albino.

Patting Bakura's back slowly, he thought of someone else who'd cried in his arms like this, and his mind automatically flew to Serena and how much he'd missed her. He'd explained to her understanding nature how Bakura needed him more than ever right now, and she understood…but that didn't erase the fact that he hadn't devoted himself to her as much as he'd wanted. And now, she'd found her brother as well, and she was spending as much time as possible with him…Ryou definitely had to make it up to her.

“Come now…calm down…let me bring you some water…” Ryou started saying, and felt Bakura's nod on his shoulder. Ryou gave a responding nod and tenderly extracted himself from Bakura's embrace, walking away to find some water. In the kitchen, he greeted Marik and Rishid, playing yet another chess game and apparently teaching Yugi how to play -poor Tea. At Marik's slightly curious glance, Ryou felt his heart fall. Marik was probably wondering why he wasn't with Serenity…well, Ryou had it in mind. `Trust me Marik' he thought, a bit bitterly `you'll get it in the end…and you won't despise me anymore'.

When he got back upstairs, Bakura had already recuperated from his slight crying fit and was recovering his stoic appearance. As Ryou entered, the other turned to him and said, in a bit of a dazed tone “You know, Ryou. I was thinking…” he started, and momentarily drank the glass of water Ryou had brought him. Then, when he'd waited for Ryou to settle in a relaxed pose near him, he started again.

“Yatsu ga (that guy)…what was his name…” Bakura was saying `disinterestedly' while observing his nails. Ryou raised an eyebrow.

“Me…Ma…” Bakura supposedly started guessing the name, making Ryou roll his eyes in the sheer childishness of it.

“Marik?”

“So da na (that's right)…” Bakura let the statement trail on, and then, when his `innocent' eyes met Ryou's amused ones, he fell back on Joey and Mai's comforter and continued with the same `uncaring' tone “Yatsu ga nansai? (How old is he?).

Ryou later considered himself a champion for managing to keep a straight face after hearing that. The tone of voice was similar to the one people used when considering purchasing a car, or a dog. Or maybe the same tone they used with their matchmaker. “Dooshita nda? Kiomi ga aru no?” (What's wrong/ How come? Interested?) he asked in an extremely amused tone, which bothered Bakura to no end.

“Baaaka na! Sonna hito de…shitsumon dake nanda (You idiot…as if that kind of person…it's just a question…)” he asked, voice turning rough and slightly threatening, as though daring Ryou to think or say otherwise. Ryou, amused by this little game, decided to see where it would lead.

“So da naaa…( Is that so..) He's around twenty, I think. “ Ryou concluded, having heard Marik was about Serenity's age. He didn't really know about his own age, since it was a bit fuzzy a matter, so he couldn't make predictions based on that.

“That's what he said, too…so it can't be a lie…” Bakura skeptically said and Ryou sniggered, earning a sharp elbow on the ribs.

“What's the matter? Don't you trust him?” Ryou questioned, watching Bakura's reaction closely and laughing at the other's displeased snort.

“Trust him? How fresh do you think I am?” Bakura asked, visibly irritated “Haven't you seen the way he looks at me? As though he's expecting me to reveal a top federal secret just by scratching my ear” he stated dispassionately.

“Really?” the albino raised a suspicious eyebrow, thinking whether he'd ever actually seen Bakura scratch his ear “You seem to be extremely aware of the way he looks at you. Do you look at him as well?” and he broke out laughing at Bakura's infuriated glare.

“What the hell, Ryou! I just want to know this guy's background! You know…to keep him off my back!” he protested, arms crossed and delicate jaw clicking.

At such a delightful offer, Ryou just couldn't keep it in: “Are you serious? On your back, already?” he burst out guffawing at Bakura's completely taken aback expression. The albino watched as two red flowers bloomed on Bakura's cheeks. He never thought he'd use the word `cute' to ever describe Bakura before, but this was it!

Bakura crossly tossed his black hair out of his eyes, making Ryou copy his gesture with his silver, in order to mock the coquettish way Bakura did it. The raven man glared even harder and, of course, Ryou kept laughing.

“Minna mo itteita nda zo…omae ga hentai! (Everybody said it, already…you're a sick one!) Bakura cursed as he stood up, refusing to even look at this infuriating creature any longer. What had that girl called him again? “Angelic”? Well to hell with that! This guy was the child of Satan!

“Kierou (Get lost)!” Bakura shouted while pointing at the door, black mane like that of a wild animal.

“Fine, then…”Ryou stood up with a smug look he didn't assume very often, and when he did it implied he knew something others did not. In this case, what he knew was that Bakura and Marik already had something very real going on, so he had no qualms teasing Bakura already. In Ryou's mind, it was only a matter of time.

It's only logical that Bakura was extremely annoyed by this attitude, as he watched Ryou saunter to the door “I'll just, um, go downstairs with Marik and Rishid…he just loves chess, that boy, what can I say?”

As Ryou ran out, seeing Bakura's piercing glare and guessing what would follow, Bakura cursed all deities that they made these new blasted doors automatic. This way, the book he'd thrown went straight out of the room.

-

Another major drawback with these stupid metallic doors was that they couldn't be knocked. This was mainly the reason why Nehti jumped five feet in the air -still retaining that primitive fear for survival, evoked in that place- when the god-forsaken female entered the room.

“What the deuce is your problem, woman?” he demanded, still struggling to conceal himself with his beloved cape. He didn't like anyone seeing his skin…much less this…female that Ryo found oh so enchanting.

“Oh, sorry...” and she did look honestly embarrassed. Watching her auburn hair cascade freely down her shoulders and her cheeks turn rosy under his scrutiny, Bakura noticed she was rather easy on the eyes. Who knows what Ryou had done to attract so beautiful a woman…knowing Ryou's internally perverse nature, Bakura didn't even want to think about it “Um…I was just looking for Ryou…”

Nehti sat back on the bed, refusing to let show how hard his heart was still beating, and started playing with the long strands of his hair, not paying any attention to her “Obviously, he's not here.”

Serenity nodded and turned to leave, so Bakura prepared to relax again and become lost in his own thoughts. The submissive girl, however, suddenly stopped, as though contemplating something. Suddenly, she turned back to Bakura, seemingly having made up her mind.

“That's fine.” She steadily said, face determined “I'm glad, actually, since I wanted to talk to you” and she stroke a pose, hip jutting out and arms crossed over her chest.

The man didn't even bother hiding his frustration at her staying there “What now?” he questioned, with a tone that was rude and disinterested all at once.

“Oh don't be so dramatic. I've never asked to talk to you before.” She said with a mildly amused tone, faintly reminiscent of Ryou's teasing, which made Bakura detest her all the more. How dare she talk to him like that?

“And I've enjoyed it that way.” He spat back, yearning to see a look as aggravated as his own cross her face, which would signify he'd `gotten under her skin'. There was no such reward, however, as she actually laughed. Laughed. Stupid girl, mocking him. He was going to kick her out, right now. He'd-

“You always were misogynic. I guess some things never change. Marik will be glad.” She commented, winking at him.

The handsome man's pupils dilated dangerously, and he threw her a piercing glare “For your own sake, you better not be implying anything about my honour, woman, or I'll show you first hand what I'm capable of…And where did you meet me anyway, to assume such things? And what does Marik have to do with this? ”

Serenity, actually having shivered from Bakura's evil words, combined with his glare, thought it best to avoid any other such digression. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but wonder…if he'd been brought in Eruna when he was fifteen,…ha! He probably wasn't as experienced as he wanted her to think. Pfft! Through the centuries, men never change. Even when severely abused and tortured, men still don't change, at least on that aspect. Really, it was too bad for the `stud' that she wasn't in the mood for teasing, or else she'd have come up with a dozen details about his love life.

“Where did I meet you…?Um…hello? Hasn't Ryou already told you about what happened?…but anyway, I came here to talk to you about Marik, among other things.” she asked, noticing she was straying from the original issue she wanted to discuss. However, this was turning more problematic than she'd originally thought. She'd assumed that Ryou had talked to Nehti about everything, already.

If there was one thing Bakura didn't like it was being caught unawares. And by a charming little girl such as this; no less. Her scientific-oriented countenance and fixation with heels unfortunately reminded him of a demon woman he'd known in that hellhole, or else he'd consider her subtle style very interesting. He narrowed his eyes at her, however, and slightly bared his teeth “What happened?”

“Umm…” the girl confusedly started `Oh no, this is not good…maybe he'll start freaking out on me,perhaps if I take it easy, at first…' she thought, and continued more sturdily “Uh…don't you know…about Rewind 1?”

She watched, transfixed, as what she'd feared immediately happened. He suddenly lunged at her, grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her, inferno eyes boring deeply in her auburn ones, burning her thoughts. She had a dιjΰ vu…

“Where in the seven hells did you hear that name?” he asked her, nails starting to dig in her tender skin, but careful not to hurt her too much- she was Ryou's woman, after all. Knees shaking uncontrollably by now, she just shook her head and gasped “It's an operation in KaibaCorp!” she said, and Bakura none-too-gently drove her against the wall, black cape sliding down his shoulders with the movement.

“I know damn fucking well what it is! “ he shouted at her, as she tried to speak and her words came out jumbled up because of his shaking “H-ho-ow d-do you-ou know?” she was asking, and, seemingly coming back to his senses, Nehti stepped back from her, still keeping her against the wall but at least not suffocating her.

“That name, you mentally handicapped wench” he spat, eyes seeming to glow scarlet fires “was the euphemism for what they were doing to us!” and his drove his fist on the wall right next to her head. She stood, mouth wide open from surprise and shock, and looked at him, eyes going over his almost-feminine features to his half-exposed shoulder. He was wearing a black tank top under the cape, and that helped reveal only a slight slip of skin when the cape had half-slid off. Distracted, Serenity thought how it was possible for a man to be so deathly pale- so pale it was clearly anomalous. She felt cold all over, for some reason, and struggled to reason with him before his cold ire frosted her over.

“Us? Who's us?” she questioned, slightly confused, and this only seemed to enrage him even more.

“US IS THE HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE WHO WERE TURNED INTO MONSTERS DOWN THERE, OR HAS THAT ESCAPED YOUR PRETTY LITTLE EYES?” he roared, deafening Serenity with an abnormally high screech, which was completely heart-wrenching and reminiscent of everything she'd been trying to forget. However, his hoarse screaming in her face made her panic as well, and, overtaken by adrenaline as she was, she shouted back at him, ignoring the fact that the rest of the house could probably hear.

“NO, IT HASN'T! IN FACT, I'VE SEEN SOME PRETTY FREAKY THINGS TOO, SO DON'T YOU VICTIMIZE YOURSELF IN FRONT OF ME! ” she shouted back, and Bakura felt the little alerts in his head jingling precariously, telling him he should stop before he completely ridicules himself by having a crisis all over again, and salivating foams like a little baby in Marik's arms.

“Victimize myself?” he demanded, in a marginally calmer tone, feeling his heartrate rise precariously. He stepped away from Serenity and walked off to the window, pulling his hood up over his head “of course. I wouldn't expect you to understand what it means to be a real victim. And now, don't think I don't realize it, everyone is hiding things from me, afraid I'm going to start breaking down the moment they tell me something. As if I can't take it, after everything I've been put through.” He finished, face drawing in a grimace of distaste. “How would you know of real victims? How would you know…”

“Look” Serenity started, finally feeling herself stand rigidly on her feet again “I'm sorry.” She said in an apologetic tone, and at his lack of response, uncomfortably started shifting on her feet “I'm very sorry…but this is what I wanted to talk to you about…I saw you at lunch. And I've talked to Ryou…and, since I thought you knew…I thought it may be easier…”

“Knew what, dammit!” Nehti barked suddenly, turning to look at her in what she recognized as despondence “How would I know if no one tells me anything? As though they're afraid I can't take it! Ryou…Marik…and now you! Why am I talking to you anyway, I don't even know you! I don't even care about you! Did you come here to be sorry about me? Well I don't need anyone's pity!” he ground the last part out viciously, and was completely taken aback when Serenity practically screamed back at him.

“Well I know that! You've made that perfectly clear!” she was shouting, with her hand raised towards the heavens “And god only knows why, but guess what, Bakura! I don't care whether you care about me or not, because I care about you! And I care about Marik!” she literally roared, with enough force to bring the small hut down “And I was hoping you'd at least listen to me when I tell you that even though you're a victim, and you've been hurt, it's not like there aren't people here who care about you! Things happened, Bakura! You were one of us, even if you don't remember…and Marik, Marik loved…Marik also thinks highly of you. You shouldn't bring all those people down, just by being your usual, disagreeable self.” She finished, sniffing slightly in indignation and looking at him from warm, but angry, eyes. “That's all I wanted to say.”

And so, leaving a slack-jawed man behind, Serenity Wheeler finally got the last word with Bakura as she left the room. Bakura, eyes red and bleeding, just stayed silent until she was gone. Then, after locking the stupid electronic lock, he let his back hit the door.

Marik…Marik loved…

Marik also thinks highly of you…

Red eyes…I like them…

I…

Don't ever talk to him about it…

What the fuck is going on?

Marik has also lost people he cared about…

The one heloved.

-

The door opened, making Marik look up from the computer-book he was reading. Rishid had brought it with him from Yango when they'd left, and Marik had finally settled down to enjoy it in the bedroom, while Rishid was writing something on the top bunk.

When the soft swish of the steel door sliding open was heard, it was an understatement to say how shocked Marik was to see a dark figure coming in. Neither of them spoke a single word, just standing there and looking at each other for a few moments, Marik subtly inquiring and Nehti glowering determinedly.

“Yes?” Marik needlessly probed, mainly just to spite Bakura even more. By now Marik knew Bakura's twisted psychology enough to understand Bakura must have somehow seen it as `a hit to his pride' that he had to actually come to Marik's room on his own and not the other way around after a fight. Bakura was completely fucked up like that.

“I needed to talk to you.” Nehti ground out, eyes glaring daggers at the man who had actually dared to speak to him that way before. Marik, enjoyed every little bit of the other's tense discomfort at `needing' to talk, and decided to intensify the torture as long as he saw fit. He didn't answer.

“Privately.” Bakura specified from between his teeth.

“Obviously” Marik casually remarked, noticing that the subtle sound of Rishid' s old pen had stopped it's little scratching. Well, the tension was palpable. But Marik didn't ask for Rishid to leave just yet.

Bakura narrowed his eyes down to glaring slits, eyelashes becoming pronounced by the blackness of his hair and porcelain quality of his skin. He didn't say anything, refusing to admit to himself he didn't really know what to say. He just settled on trying to stare Marik down. Marik, with his god-damn shiny hair. Marik, with his cocky little grin. Marik, with those smoky snake eyes! Marik, with that ugly, uglybody.

“After that shouting match with Serena, which I didn't really hear since I was out, you probably came to me looking for comfort, but it can't be helped, I'm afraid. She's with Ryou.”

What the hell? Was this blond little chic mocking him? He didn't find it funny that everyone knew he'd been humiliated by a little girl. He especially didn't want this guy to know, because this guy had tried to humiliate him also. Humiliation in Bakura's mind didn't really go with objective measures. In his mind, the person who humiliates him is the person who manages to get to him. Marik almost got to him, last time…but then, that comment about the red eyes…and the discovery of Marik's lost lover…that's it! Marik's lost lover! The only taboo subject around him. The only thing that could hurt him. It was a cheap shot, but it was worth it.

“Of course, I suppose you know all about rejection” Nehti venomously spat, turning around to observe the rest of the room, as though disinterested in the topic of conversation “I've been told all about your `lost lover'…” oh…it was almost orgasmic, the glee Bakura felt upon seeing Marik's eyes dilate in such a manner. Oh, all right, perhaps he knew next to nothing about Marik's lover…but oh well. The subject seemed to intensely affect Marik, all the same.

“What did you say?” Marik shot up from his seat, almost pushed Bakura away from his fury. And then, in a flurry of motion, he whirled to Rishid “Rishid! Please leave us for a few moments!”

If it weren't for the sudden pang of unexpected annoyance towards this unknown `lover' who could provoke such violent reactions, Bakura would have been truly perturbed from Marik's face. Rishid, who was obviously and unsuccessfully trying to conceal his alert expression, said a low “Yes, Master” and rushed out the room with all the conviction Marik's agonizing expression was giving him. The second he was out of the room, Nehti didn't even have time to exhale, before he felt the asphyxiating pressure of a tanned hand against his larynx.

“Listen, you fuck” Marik started saying in a voice low and breathy, that alarmed Nehti much more than any shout could have, making him think it may not have been such a good idea to tread on such perilous subjects “I don't know what you know, or think you know…but if you ever try to talk about him again, ever, you will regret it.” Nehti was acting exactly like Bakura had when Marik had first met him. However, Marik had already gone down that road. Already solved other peoples' psychological problems, and now he had his own. This man wasn't Bakura. Although he looked, acted, even smelled like Bakura, he was just a smartass little teen who'd been in the wrong place on the wrong time. He understood, by that obstinate spark in the other's eyes, that Nehti really didn't know much about the `lost lover' or he wouldn't be acting so trivially about it…besides, who out of their company could have betrayed Marik?

“You think you're going to scare me, after Kuru Eruna?” Bakura questioned with a chocking voice, feeling his breath give way as he was pressed against the wall, with Marik's infernal body suffocating him. “As if I've waited for you to take my life, when I've gotten out of there! You're just a little kid, younger than me! I don't even know why you're here, you nondescript plebeian!” he spat, knowing they were lies even as he thought them, but unable to retain their biting edge. From al the things Marik had said, only one had clearly registered in Nehti's brain: `him'. The mysterious lover. Not a beautiful girl. Not an angelic maiden. Nehti was trying to wrap his mind around it, imagining the image of a tall strong man shadowing Marik's fair features, but felt a sudden pang of anxiety every time he did.

A man.

“I don't care about any of your sordid love affairs! The only thing I want to know is what you know about Rewind 1” Bakura flamboyantly lied, making Marik tighten the hold on his throat and squeeze silently in provocation.

Then, finally, amethyst eyes boring deep into red ones, breath hitting Bakura's mouth, Marik visibly relaxed and stepped back, slackening his hold. If Bakura didn't even know this much, he certainly wouldn't know about his actual lover. Seeing the blond' s adjustment to the situation, Nehti immediately pursed his lips and pretended to be slightly more in control, even though Marik's hand was still on his throat, as though lingering there for comfort. Marik, back to his nonchalant self, mirrored Bakura's expression with an honestly unperturbed face.

“Perhaps you should ask your cousin, then, or someone who may know you better. I was never so involved with you.” Marik advised, swiftly turning around towards Zora's collection of fluffy toys, in order to hide the pain in his eyes “I won't be of much assistance”.

Nehti glared at the other's stiff back, red eyes poised in a lethal sting “I'd appreciate it if you let me be the judge of that” he said and then took a few thoughtful steps to the side, so he could see Marik's profile “Besides, I must have a reason for coming to you, when I could have gone to anyone else.”

“What reason?” Marik asked, mildly interested at what the other was implying. He seemed so extremely tired, however, by all the psychological pressure he had recently been under, that he didn't really sound like he cared.

That pissed Bakura off, and the raven-man decided on saying something caustic once again. “Someone told me you already knew me. That I've lost memories…I thought you'd be willing to tell me what others don't, but I can now see you don't like telling things in the open, so let's just forget about this.” The tall man said, tightening his black cape around his body and preparing to walk out. When he felt a palm on his shoulder, however, he stopped, without turning back.

“It's true that you've lost memories, and that I already knew you…and it's true that I don't want to talk about things with you, exactly because I've known you in the past, and now you don't have your memories. Is that open enough for you, Bakura?” Marik's low baritone asked, sounding strangely confessional in a most disorienting way.

It disoriented Nehti to such an extent, actually, that the boy turned around instinctually, grabbing Marik's shirt from the chest and fisting his hands in it “Why? Am I not a person now? Am I not the same person? I've turned into a monster now, and you don't want to know me, is that it? Why do I not remember anything? Why?” he asked, hoarse voice thinning even more as the speech progressed. Marik, wayward eyes turned to the floor, gently extracted himself from Bakura's clutches and turned away, back to the window, knowing he couldn't let anything happen between them, though he was provoked even more every time.

“I've told you before that you're not a monster and that you should go on with your life…what more do you want from me? Some things are better left unsaid…”

“NO!” Nehti stated, fist hitting the wall rigidly, making Marik slightly turn his head -earrings clinking with the movement “Don't say that! I hate that! I want to know! I want to know my memories!” he demanded, like a lost child, and Marik felt unshed tears gathering behind his eyes. He thought how unfair life had been to this creature. At first, Bakura had strived to find the memories he now had. Now, he was trying to gain the memories he recently gained and lost…

“Look…” Marik started, voice lowering significantly in his internal plight of reminiscence “All I can do for you right now…is help you through your problems.” He finished, and turned to stare at a flabbergasted Nehti “And I truly, honestly want to do that, even if you probably don't believe it. I want to help you…” his amethyst eyes were sparkling, though Bakura couldn't understand the moistness behind he glow “But, please, don't ask anything more of me.” He finished, and Bakura was about to say that asking something more was part of needing help, but he was cut off when he felt something pushing against his hands. “Here. You can have it.” Marik told him.

He looked down and saw a strangely shaped…deformed…thing, which gave him a headache just by looking at its ugly, burn-out figure. “What's this?” he asked, accepting the weird talisman, which jingled a little when moved “It's not in the best condition” he observed, noticing how the thing seemed to be turned inside out, as though completely melted in lava.

Marik nodded quietly, face hidden by his blonde, glowing bands “That's because the soul inside it doesn't exist anymore” he finished, and Nehti thought he heard a strange quality of wetness in his voice. He tried to dismiss it, but failed…it always came back to Marik somehow…somehow…Why was the loss of this `soul' making Marik so sad? Perhaps this was the soul…the soul-

“This soul…who did it belong to?” Bakura asked, skin crawling for the long-awaited answer, heart beating harder, for some reason, upon seeing Marik's forlorn features, upon feeling Marik's hands close around his own- around that golden object…Bakura didn't know if he really wanted to know. The soul of that strong man…no doubt stronger than he was…the soul of a man not dragged through the mud of Kuru Eruna…that protective, possessive shadow over Marik, which always laid claim on him…

…………….Bakura…