Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Stuck On You ❯ Chapter 20 ( Chapter 20 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

|~*DISCLAIMER: Yu-Gi-Oh! is the property of Kazuki Takahashi. It does not belong to
Rhapsody Moonschild and/or Tat Claire Kokoro.*~|

---

CHAPTER TWENTY

Yami's POV

Coming back to myself is more painful than I thought it would be. Stars burst behind
my eyelids as I hit the ground hard with my back. You see, it is very hard to keep
balance in a tree when disoriented. Understandably I have fallen out.

I get up slowly and determine that nothing was broken, then set my mind to my purpose:
find Marik. The only thing is that I have no idea where he is. I was trying to lose
him, earlier, and it appears that I succeeded.

With a sigh I start home. The sun is going down and there's no way I'm going to be in
the park after nightfall. That's when all the muggers come out.

And apparently one is early, I decide quickly as I am professionally restrained from
behind, a cool knife blade pressed to my neck.

"Money or your life," the owner of the knife mutters gruffly. But somehow, the voice
is familiar...

"Marik?"

*

The knife is removed from where it might do harm and I am released and turned around
roughly. Surprised violet-crimson eyes meet mine; slowly his mouth widens into a strange
smile.

"Yami."

"Uh huh... Um, well..." I desperately want to know why he was doing the knife bit but
I bite my tongue. It's better not to ask a slightly deranged armed person their reasons
for their actions.

"Yami, I gotta tell ya something."

"Yes?" I tilt my head to one side curiously.

He stares at me for a long moment and I watch, mystified, as his eyes seem to show some
sort of inner struggle.

"Yami, you--" he begins, stops, looks at me again. "Yami--"

There is a long pause and then he hangs his head, muttering something I can't quite hear
about not being able to do something. I have no idea what he's going on about, but I
do have something to speak to him about so I wish he'd talk so that I might.

"Yes, Marik?" I prompt. He glances back at me and mutters, "Never mind."

"Can I ask you something, then?"

My heart starts to race a bit and I am almost afraid of his answer. But I ask the
question anyway--no holding back now.

"Marik, why did you tell me that story about your childhood? You had no childhood,"
I say, finally letting it out.

He stares at me in amazement. All he says is, "What?"