Final Eclipse, Chapter Five
Series:YuGiOh
Title: Final Eclipse Chapter Five
Author: Fictatious
Character(s): Bakura Ryou, Yami-Bakura, Malik Ishtar, Ishizu Ishtar, Rishid Ishtar, Yuugi Mutou, Atem, Mazaki Anzu, Jonouchi Katsuya, Honda Hiroto
Rating: M
Warnings: Swearing and sexy times
Summary: Breakfasts are eaten, rondevus are kept, Ryou gets pissed-off, Bakhura gets pissed-off, sexy-times are had, famous sites are visited, talks are had.
Previous:
Delusions
Bad Religion
Interlude 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Final Eclipse 1, 2, 3, 4
Ishizu found the couch abandoned in the morning when she walked through the living room. She tilted her head and listened for running water. She heard the sink in the bathroom go on for a few seconds and then off, and then on again a few seconds later. Rishid shaving. Not Malik.
She moved across to the kitchen setting the kettle to heat on the stove and assembling four cups, before going back out into the hall and giving Malik’s unlatched door a nudge. Her brother and Bakura Ryou were nestled together on the twin-sized bed, Bakura wearing a spare pair of Malik’s pajamas, and the covers kicked off in the morning’s warmth. She smiled at how child-like they looked, although she had realized some time ago that Malik’s feelings for the other teenager weren’t childish.
“Malik,” she called, and Malik started awake, his head jerking up as he mumbled a groggy non-word.
“Gfuh buh- ‘shizu? What?” he asked, blinking, and then noticing he was partially pinned down by Bakura when he tried to sit up. He flushed a little and gave Ishizu a slightly guilty, embarrassed look.
“It’s morning,” Ishizu stated. “I’m starting breakfast now. We were going to meet with the others later.”
“Oh, oh yeah,” Malik answered vaguely, nodding. “Okay, yeah, thanks Sister.”
“You’re welcome.” She nodded and headed back towards the kitchen.
...
“Hey...” Malik started, looking down at his plate as he pushed around a bit of ful and egg. “We... we’re supposed to go and meet them today... Will you be okay?” He slowly looked up the duet, biting his lip. They just stared back at him silently for several seconds. “I mean,” Malik mumbled, “can you handle that?”
Ryou’s head turned, looking down at the table for a moment before he spoke in a low voice. “I suppose we’re to play tourist for the rest of the week?” he said.
“I think that was the plan, yeah.” Malik nodded. “Their return-flight is on Saturday... I don’t suppose you have a return-flight booked...”
“I don’t imagine so,” Ryou agreed softly. “You said you found a passport?”
“Yeah, in your coat,” Malik confirmed. “Passport, ticket-stubs from the flights to get here, and a candy-wrapper... They travel light.”
“That’s easy if you’re suicidal,” Bakhura snorted. “Or rather, don’t care what happens to the body you’re in, once you get where you’re going.”
“We can book a flight for you on the computer,” Ishizu said, probably considering it a reassurance.
“... Don’t worry about it. I can buy it,” Bakhura said quietly, and tucked some ful into his mouth.
“With what?” Ishizu asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I assume the World Bank has a branch in Cairo?” Bakhura shrugged.
“Of course.”
“And is that passport for ‘Bakura Ryou’?” he asked, glancing to Malik.
“Yeah, I think it’s actually totally legit.” Malik nodded.
“Then we have money,” Bakhura affirmed, trying to re-skewer a piece of egg that fell off his fork. “I keep a small account with them in Ryou’s name. For emergencies.”
Ishizu leaned on an elbow, looking curiously at him for a moment and then not quite shrugging and returning to her coffee. Malik tapped his finger on the table, pondering for a moment before he asked, “What’s a ‘small account’?”
“Six thousand Euros,” Bakhura replied without missing a beat and Ishizu choked. She pushed away from the table as she coughed. Rishid offered her a napkin.
“You anticipate expensive emergencies,” Malik noted, grinning. Bakhura shrugged. Malik sobered, remembering the matter at hand. “So, today...”
“... I won’t kill him,” Bakhura said after a pause. “I make no promises about breaking skin or bones,” he added, then the voice shifted to Ryou’s cadence and became very soft, “He’s not allowed to talk to us.”
“Okay.” Malik nodded.
...
“Bakura-kun!” Anzu shouted, running out into the street when she spotted his bright hair through the crowd. He didn’t smile or respond to her except to make eye-contact. Anzu ignored that, she ran right up and hugged him, which did seem to startle him into a response. He took in a surprised breath and backed up one step, his body going rigid.
“A-Anzu,” he stammered in a low, nervous voice. “Hello.”
“I’m so glad, Bakura-kun! After you fainted yesterday, it was really scary and I’m so glad you’re okay!” When she let him go, he moved a little closer to Malik, looking agitated.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” Anzu said, bowing deeply to Malik and then Ishizu and Rishid. “We really could never figure out how to help him.”
“It’s a difficult situation,” Ishizu answered with a small nod.
Anzu stepped aside a little as Jonouchi and Honda had walked up to greet Bakura too; Yuugi was hanging back. Anzu sent him a ‘get over here!’ look and nodded her head towards Bakura. Yuugi shook his head in answer and looked at the ground.
“Hey, Bakura! Good to see ya among the conscious and sane!” Jonouchi declared and made to slap Bakura on the shoulder.
Bakura grabbed his wrist out of the air and twisted it. Jonouchi made a startled sound and grimaced in pain briefly before staring at Bakura, wide-eyed. Bakura glared back at him. “No love-taps, Jonouchi. I swear to God, if you hit us, we will put you underground,” Bakura said in a low, dangerous voice.
“I... Okay,” Jonouchi mumbled, nodding, and kept staring after Bakura had let him go.
“Bakura, are you okay?” Honda asked in an even tone.
“No. We’re not,” Bakura spat. He curled his shoulders in a bit, putting his hands in his pockets and shifted so his hair covered more of him. “And we don’t want your help. Don’t bother asking.”
“... ‘We’,” Jonouchi repeated with distaste, wrinkling his nose.
“Yes we,” Bakura growled, narrowing his eyes and stepping towards Jonouchi, giving him a challenging glare. “I’m not going to pretend for you anymore. I’m not going to play the stooge for your little band of adventurers. I’m sick of listening to the self-righteous bullshit of that hypocritical bastard!” He pointed his finger accusingly at Atem, who was now standing, looking defiant, from where Yuugi had been hanging back.
“Stop!” Malik grabbed Bakura’s arm and pulled him around. “Look at me. Look at me, Ryou. This is pointless. This isn’t going to help. Just stop it.” Malik firmly gripped Bakura’s shoulders and stared him in the eyes as he spoke. “Stop,” he whispered.
“... I want them buried.”
Anzu actually heard the change in speech-pattern that time. It wasn’t just the directness, because Bakura had been quite direct a moment ago, there was a different tone and the rhythm changed.
“What are you talking about?” Malik asked, looking confused.
“The Millennium Items,” the other Bakura answered in a strong voice, making sure Atem could hear it. “They are the blood and bones of my people. I claim burial-rights and I want them interred!”
There was quiet for a while, only the sounds of the street activity around them to stave off silence, and then Ishizu finally spoke. “That isn’t possible, Bakura.”
“It’s my right!” the other Bakura shouted back at her.
“The Pharaoh is tied to the Millennium Puzzle!” Ishizu insisted, although Anzu was pretty sure the other Bakura was well aware of that fact at the moment.
“He’s no right to it! He’s a murderer and a corpse-thief who couldn’t even wait until they were in the ground!”
“You’re one to talk!” Atemu snapped. “You dragged my father through the sand for miles!”
“I never opened the box!” the other Bakura shot back, eyes flashing with rage. “I’ve never in my life touched a corpse except those of my own people who were fodder for your disgusting little trinkets!”
“I didn’t create them!” Atemu shouted.
“You used them! Even after you knew what they were!” the other Bakura screamed. “You desecrated them! They are the mutilated bodies of my ancestors and you’ve pissed all over their graves!”
“I didn’t have a choice! You caused the threat and forced me to use them!”
“LIAR!”
“Bakhura!” Malik broke in, grabbing Bakura into a forceful hug. Bakura seemed to panic and struggle for a moment before calming slightly. Malik started talking to him in a different language, ancient Egyptian? Anzu couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but she heard ‘Ryou’ several times. His voice grew quieter, murmuring close to Bakura’s ear, as the embrace started looking less like Malik was trying to restrain the other boy and more like he was supporting him.
And then Bakura started sobbing loudly, collapsing against Malik and clinging to him. Malik held him and looked up to Ishizu after a moment. “Sister, I’m taking Bakura home,” he announced.
“Yes.” Ishizu nodded.
Anzu stood, wringing her hands as Malik lead Bakura down the street and out of sight. This was all wrong. This whole situation was impossible. How was this ever supposed to be fixed?
“It’ll be okay, Anzu,” Honda said behind her.
“I don’t see how,” she mumbled, blinking her eyes quickly.
...
“... That was terrible,” one of them whispered, too soft and dejected for Malik to make out which, as they stared at the table. “I can’t believe we cried in front of him.”
“You were well justified for it,” Malik replied, putting a cup of mint tea in front of them. “You’ve been through hell.”
“I... I don’t want to see any of them again. Ever,” Ryou said leaning his head down into his hands. “They’re not my friends. They never cared about me. They just wanted me where they could keep tabs on me.”
“... I know Anzu cares about you,” Malik said, pulling one of the chairs over next to theirs. “I was in her head, remember. And I think it’s a fair bet the others do too... Ryou, they didn’t know. How were they supposed to get it when you were playing it up for them like a soap opera?”
Ryou turned his head a little and looked at Malik through his fringe, a bitter little smile coming to his lips. “I brought it on myself, you mean.”
“No- Ryou...” Malik clenched his teeth, frustrated. “... You talk about them not trusting you, but you never gave them a single ounce of trust.”
“... They wouldn’t understand.”
“They couldn’t understand, Ryou!” Malik caught Ryou’s shoulder and pushed at it, making him look up. “You made Bakhura the villain.”
They stared at him, hurt showing in every line of Ryou’s face. “The Pharaoh was our enemy. It’s because of him.”
“Ryou, that put you at odds with them, but it’s you playing the kidnapped princess that turned Bakhura into the fire-breathing dragon.”
“Shut up! It was my idea!” Bakhura snapped, grabbing Malik’s shirt-collar. “What was I supposed to do? Just make up with him? After what he did to me?”
“Bakhura, you were both pawns!” Malik snapped. “Neither of you set this shit into motion! You were both in the wrong place at the wrong time and you both got manipulated into ruining each other’s lives!”
“You traitor,” Bakhura whispered, and then shoved Malik back, almost knocking him over in his chair.
“Stop it!” Malik half shouted. “Stop making up your own reality! You keep saying he killed your family but he was a God-damned infant, Bakhura!” Malik grabbed their face, framing in Bakhura’s jaw with his hands and forcing eye-contact. “It’s what they wanted you to think! They needed you to be in vendetta-mode and when Aknamkanon died, they couldn’t let you stop! They manipulated you! They made you ignore any rational part of your mind that should have said ‘this isn’t the guy I’m mad at’ so that they could make you finish the ceremony!”
“No no no no,” Bakhura chanted, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking. “That’s not true. It can’t be. I have to- I have to-”
“You fucking know it’s true, Bakhura!” Malik shook him. “It was them! It was always them! And you know who made them answer for it? Pharaoh did!”
“SHUT UP!” Bakhura screamed, trying to push Malik and falling backwards over his chair instead. “SHUT UP! STOP IT! TRAITOR!”
Malik moved over and knelt on the floor next to Bakhura as he curled up in a defensive ball and started sobbing again. “Bakhura, you know it was them.” He leaned down against Bakhura, putting his arms awkwardly around him. “You know. They make you think things, they make you believe things that don’t make any sense. I understand. They can get you believing shit that is just plain stupid. I understand, Bakhura. They did it to me too. It’s what they do. It’s what they are.”
“I-i-ss n-nn-not f-f-f-fa-air!”
“I know, baby, I know,” Malik whispered. “It’s evil... but you can’t make it fair... Hating Pharaoh can’t make it fair...”
Bakhura made a few straining little sounds of stifled sobs through his teeth before letting out a wail and beginning to weep in earnest. Malik dropped his head down, resting it near their throat and staying draped awkwardly over them, his muscles cramping up, until they finally uncurled and rolled over, grabbing him and pulling him closer. They stayed there, lying on the floor, with three thousand years of frustration and anger and pain fueling Bakhura’s tears as he clung to Malik.
“Shhhhhh...” Malik breathed, over and over, stroking his hand over their hair and leaning their foreheads together. “Shhhhh...” His right arm was starting to go numb, pinned between their body and the linoleum; he ignored it and didn’t try to alter their position on the floor. “You are the strongest person I have ever known...” Malik whispered, as the weeping started to get quieter. “To survive what they did to you... It’s amazing.”
“Sh-shut up,” Bakhura mumbled. “I d-don’t want- shut up.”
“Okay,” Malik breathed, stroking his hand over their side. “I just want you to know that I admire you.”
“Shut u-up,” Bakhura said again, stronger and more irritated. He grabbed Malik behind the shoulder and pulled him in roughly, bringing their mouths together too hard and making Malik wince as his upper lip was jammed against his teeth for a moment. He forgot that quickly enough though, as their mouths slid together and Bakhura deepened the kiss a few seconds later.
He knew it was Bakhura kissing him at first, he used more teeth than Ryou, but by ten minutes in, when it had turned to wanton and breathless necking, it wasn’t really possible to tell. It never was at this stage, and Malik kind of thought they lost track too. The first time, the shifts had been obvious, Ryou hesitant but eagerly exploring and Bakhura almost laughing, and sometimes actually laughing out loud. On the dirigible, the night before everything went to shit, they’d been much more synchronized, like now, but not like now; there had been a careless excitement then now it was needy desperation.
It was a strong indicator of how desperate they were that Ryou wasn’t getting anxious about being on the floor or the fact that showers hadn’t been had recently enough. They were ignoring all details that weren’t immediately relevant and focusing solely on the comfort of sensual contact.
They rolled over, pushing Malik onto his back and attacking his neck, their hands sliding up under his shirt, tracing the shape of his ribs. Malik keened lustily. He’d been wanting this for months; longing for them and throwing temper-tantrums of frustration over not even being able to talk to them, an entire planet and the Pharaoh’s spell separating them, all of them, from each other. He pulled at the back of their shirt, slowly walking the fabric up Ryou’s back with his fingers and pressing his palms against the heated skin he uncovered.
They shifted, getting their knees under them, on either side of Malik, and lifting up to pull their shirt off over their head, then tossing it aside. He was so pale, his skin just a little bit translucent, the faintest hint of the colors underneath, blues and reds, not quite visible. Malik started to reach up, but they descended on him again immediately, one hand pulling clumsily at Malik’s shirt and the other fanned out over his stomach. Malik squirmed, struggling to get his elbow out of his sleeve while they were pulling his shirt like that.
The combined efforts finally managed to get Malik’s shirt off. Ryou’s hand planted itself next to Malik’s left shoulder and the other slid under the small of his back, lifting him slightly; then Ryou’s head went down and they licked a line up Malik’s chest from the bottom of his ribs up to his clavicle. Malik arched up into the feeling and started moaning and panting at the same time, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Haah! Haah! Aah! Haah! Ah ah ah ah!”
They slid two fingers slowly up over the crotch of Malik’s pants. Their mouth moved from his chest to his ear, biting the lobe gently and then murmuring, “Hu-how many times di-hid you think ah-bout us and to-houch yourself?”
“Hah Every G-Goddamned uh! day!” Malik panted.
“Yeah?” They licked around the inner edge of Malik’s ear and then caught the top between their lips and sucked, at the same time, they grabbed his crotch firmly.
“Uhhuhuhhung!” Malik whimpered, digging his fingernails into Ryou’s shoulders. “Yes!”
They made a little sigh-like sound that made Malik’s heart beat even faster, then kissed his ear-lobe and whispered, “Wha-at do you wan-nt us to d-hu to you?”
“Bend me over and fuck me ‘til I can’t walk straight!” Malik blurted.
They mewled and nuzzled the sensitive space behind his jaw. “Pro-hoblem. I do-hon’t have a- I don’t- I-” Their panting suddenly began to shift from lusty to panicked and they pushed away slightly. “Oh god! Oh god!” it sounded like Ryou’s hysterical voice.
“What?!” Malik turned his head to look at them and was greeted with a look of terror. “What?! What’s wrong?!”
“Oh god!” They pushed themselves up and put their hands over their face, shaking and starting to sob again. “No no no no!” It was definitely Ryou’s voice now.
“Ryou!” Malik valiantly pushed down the voice that was demanding ‘just shut up and fuck me!’ struggling to sit up, aching, and caught Ryou’s wrists, trying to pull his hands away from his face. “What? What is it?!”
“Hi-hiruta-ni,” Ryou sobbed. “H-he wouldn’t we-ear a condom a-and he w-was like ‘Stupid bitch, d’you th-think you’re gonna g-get pregnant or s-something?’ a-and I di-didn’t- I didn’t- I was so lonely!” Ryou babbled, hysterical sobs falling out between words. “H-he prob-bobly had d-diseases!” he wailed.
Malik stared at him, stunned, blank, what the hell was he supposed to say to that? What was he supposed to do? Ryou was freaking fuck out and Malik had nothing here. What do you say to that? Not saying anything would make it worse, he had to say something, what was he supposed to say?!
“I’m such a WHORE!” Ryou screamed, then he shook his head violently and Bakhura’s voice yelled, “You were raped!” Ryou wailed and dropped his face back into his hands. “I probably have s-syphilis or AIDS now!”
“Ry-Ryou, stop! You’re not a whore!” Malik exclaimed, panicking. “And you don’t have AIDS! Stop freaking out! You’re fine!”
Ryou was hyperventilating and shaking violently, sobbing loud and shamelessly like a terrified child.
“Ryou!” Malik grabbed his shoulders. “Look at me, Ryou! Look! Open your eyes and look at me!” He gave them a shake and when the other teen finally looked back at him, Malik let go of his shoulders and caught his face instead, staring him straight in the eye. “You are not sick,” he said firmly. “And what’s going to happen is you’re going to go to the hospital when you get home, they’re gonna draw your blood and test it, and they’re not gonna find anything in it but blood, and then they’re going to call you up and tell you that you’re fine.”
Somehow that did seem to work and Ryou started to calm down. He looked back at Malik, hiccupping several times, his face wet and still scared. “But what if--”
“You’re fine,” Malik said firmly and then he leaned their foreheads together. “You’re gonna see. You’re just fine.”
Ryou continued hiccupping and sniffling for a while. “I’m s-sorry,” he whimpered.
“Shhh-sh-sh-sh-shhhh,” Malik whispered, rubbing Ryou’s shoulders. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he whined again. “Y-you wanted to- I- I can’t- n-not until I know for sure. I’m s-sorry!”
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Malik assured him. There was quiet for a little while, punctuated by hiccups, as they just knelt there with their foreheads together. As Ryou’s breathing calmed down, Malik moved his head, and pressed a soft kiss to Ryou’s lips.
Ryou slowly caught his breath, his eyes half-closed and both bright and stormy from crying. Then he looked back up at Malik. Malik smiled softly for him but it dropped into a slightly shocked expression when Ryou said, “I could give you a blow-job.”
“Wh-huh?” Malik fumbled, part of him saying ‘oh God yes yes yes’ and the rest of him being a bit too flabbergasted to form a coherent reply.
“You’re still hard,” Ryou observed, touching Malik’s crotch gently, making him shiver. “Even though me crying at you like that probably has to be pretty unsexy.” He let out a little one-note laugh.
“I- you don’t have to do that,” Malik said, feeling incredibly awkward.
“I want to. I want to. Malik. I want to. Please,” Ryou babbled quickly.
“I- I-” Malik stammered, he was pretty sure this wasn’t the right response to trauma, but his breath was getting fast again and he wanted it so badly. “Y-y-yes-s?”
“Let’s move.” Ryou grabbed his hands. “We-we’re in the kitchen.”
“O-okay.”
...
“Oh wooooow!” Anzu turned a circle, staring at all the dozens and dozens of hanging glass vessels, hovering in the enormous, tiled courtyard. “Ishizu, what are those?”
“Oil lanterns,” Ishizu answered, smiling at her. “They’ve used them to light up the vast spaces like this since long before electric lighting existed.”
“Sweet!” Jonouchi exclaimed. “How big a fire would they get going in one of these things?”
“Not... very big...”
“Hey... Yuugi?” Anzu asked quietly as Jonouchi started yammering about fire or something, “Can I talk to you for a bit?”
“Huh?” Yuugi looked up at her with that expression he always had when somebody addressed him, not Atem, like he was surprised and confused that anyone would want to talk to him. “Y-yeah, sure Anzu! What is it?”
Anzu glanced over at the others, it looked like they’d probably be exploring this courtyard for a while, and caught Yuugi’s hand, leading him over to a corner. “Yuugi... is Atem there right now?” she asked, her eyes flicking over the hanging lanterns and back to Yuugi again.
Yuugi’s face changed to an ‘oh’ kind of expression; he didn’t look hurt, he just looked as though he’d figured out a word-scramble and was readying to write down the answer. He smiled at her, “You can talk to him, Anzu. It’s really not any trouble, I don’t--”
He eeped as Anzu cut him off, dragging him into a tight hug. “Yuugi... do you know how important you are to me?” she whispered near his ear. “You mean a lot to me, Yuugi. I guess I was a little embarrassed to admit it, because it made me feel like such a tomboy, not hanging out with the other girls, but I always felt like you were my very best friend ever since we were kids.” Anzu swallowed against a little knot in her throat, feeling intensely awkward. “You’re the nicest guy I know, Yuugi, and growing up with you and being friends with you has been so so important to me.”
Yuugi was totally frozen and barely even breathing; Anzu found that a little disturbing, so she decided it was probably time to get to the point now. “B-but right now, I’m really worried about everything with Bakura-kun. This whole situation is just really scary and I want to help if I can...”
Yuugi seemed to recover a little at the change of topic. “I- y-yeah, me too,” he mumbled.
Anzu let him go slowly and stood back a little, looking at him as she continued, although he wasn’t meeting her eyes and his face was red. He was so cute sometimes. Often, actually. “It’s just... yesterday I spent, like, three hours talking to Malik about all this, and it really seems like he’s had a good perspective on the whole thing...”
“He knew how to fix it...” Yuugi whispered, his face scrunching up a bit. “If I’d listened to him earlier-- no. You’re wrong. You shouldn’t have done that--”
“Yuugi,”Anzu broke in, catching his shoulders firmly in her hands and making him glance back up at her with a slightly startled look. “Can I talk to him?”
Yuugi blinked at her for a moment and then nodded, closing his eyes and letting his head drop just slightly. A chill ran down Anzu’s spine as she felt a weird power ripple over Yuugi and then his posture straightened and Atem was looking back at her. “What?” he asked, with a great deal more brusqueness than he usually used when he spoke to her, and his eyes flicked away.
“... Do you know what happened to the other Bakura in Egypt?” she asked. That wasn’t quite what she’d been planning on, but she supposed it was a sensible direction to take the conversation in.
Atem was silent for a few beats before answering. “Only what he claimed when he was ranting like a lunatic in the alter room.”
“About how Ku-Kulu-eluna got destroyed?”
“... Yes.” Atem nodded, not looking at her.
Anzu’s eyes wandered to the floor for a moment before she prodded herself onward. “Malik said that the Millennium Items… couldn’t have been made without- without killing at least a thousand people,” she mumbled and then pressed her lips together nervously before glancing back up at Atem’s face.
“... Ma’had said that too...” Atem whispered very quietly. His eyes flew up to meet Anzu’s suddenly and he looked uncharacteristically desperate. “But it wasn’t my fault, Anzu! I didn’t even know--”
“You were a baby.” Anzu nodded and Atem calmed down visibly. “I understand that it wasn’t your fault, Atem, but do you understand that the other Bakura hurts really really badly? We can’t even understand how much, and maybe he doesn’t even know how to be civil... I feel like... we need to try to be more understanding...” Anzu glanced down for a minute, trying to stitch her thoughts together into a sensible order. “It’s just... I mean, it had to be incredibly hard for him and Bakura-kun to even try to meet us today. A-and- he said some terrible things, but... the fact that he was there at all- it shows that he’s trying really hard.”
Atem nodded slowly, his eyes cast toward the floor. He looked sulky and guilty, thoroughly scolded, and Anzu felt herself smiling softly. She reached forward and hugged him. It was pretty much exactly the same as when she’d hugged Yuugi; Atem went very still and tense, seeming to hold his breath a little bit. When she backed up again, he was flushed and didn’t quite look up at her. Anzu couldn’t help laughing, and she watched him get a little more flushed and shift uncomfortably.
She grabbed his hands and put on an encouraging smile as he looked back up at her. “So let’s try our best too, okay?”
“Y-yes,” Atem nodded, glancing away again but looking considerably less tense.
“We’d better get back to the others now and make sure that Jonouchi doesn’t break something,” Anzu suggested.
Atem smiled a bit and let her pull him back towards the center of the courtyard.
...
...
A/N: I picture Ryou as just a little bit of a germaphobe. Not the keeps-their-money-in-plastic-bags kind of germaphobe, but germs worry him. In general, he’s concerned about things like hand railings and buses being insanitary, and incurable diseases scare the ever-loving shit out of him. Note that while syphilis is curable these days, it’s still one of those historically really scary ones.
BTW, the place team-Yuugi is in on the last scene there is Sultan Hassan’s Mosque. It has some seriously bitchin’ architecture and mosaics and fabulous ceramic and glaze work. Oh how I want to do a tour of classical Islamic palaces and Mosques... how many monies do I need... Spain, Persia, Ottoman Empire territory, Arabia and India, North Africa... they’re probably a bit too spread out for one trip... I suppose I’ll start with Spain, it’s technically closest.
Comments, please! Honest, they make me write faster because I get all inspired and stuff! LadyBlackwell and ThiefofSpades, you guys make my day with your multi-paragraphed reviews popping into my inbox within an hour of me posting. I loves you guys.
Title: Final Eclipse Chapter Five
Author: Fictatious
Character(s): Bakura Ryou, Yami-Bakura, Malik Ishtar, Ishizu Ishtar, Rishid Ishtar, Yuugi Mutou, Atem, Mazaki Anzu, Jonouchi Katsuya, Honda Hiroto
Rating: M
Warnings: Swearing and sexy times
Summary: Breakfasts are eaten, rondevus are kept, Ryou gets pissed-off, Bakhura gets pissed-off, sexy-times are had, famous sites are visited, talks are had.
Previous:
Delusions
Bad Religion
Interlude 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
Final Eclipse 1, 2, 3, 4
Ishizu found the couch abandoned in the morning when she walked through the living room. She tilted her head and listened for running water. She heard the sink in the bathroom go on for a few seconds and then off, and then on again a few seconds later. Rishid shaving. Not Malik.
She moved across to the kitchen setting the kettle to heat on the stove and assembling four cups, before going back out into the hall and giving Malik’s unlatched door a nudge. Her brother and Bakura Ryou were nestled together on the twin-sized bed, Bakura wearing a spare pair of Malik’s pajamas, and the covers kicked off in the morning’s warmth. She smiled at how child-like they looked, although she had realized some time ago that Malik’s feelings for the other teenager weren’t childish.
“Malik,” she called, and Malik started awake, his head jerking up as he mumbled a groggy non-word.
“Gfuh buh- ‘shizu? What?” he asked, blinking, and then noticing he was partially pinned down by Bakura when he tried to sit up. He flushed a little and gave Ishizu a slightly guilty, embarrassed look.
“It’s morning,” Ishizu stated. “I’m starting breakfast now. We were going to meet with the others later.”
“Oh, oh yeah,” Malik answered vaguely, nodding. “Okay, yeah, thanks Sister.”
“You’re welcome.” She nodded and headed back towards the kitchen.
...
“Hey...” Malik started, looking down at his plate as he pushed around a bit of ful and egg. “We... we’re supposed to go and meet them today... Will you be okay?” He slowly looked up the duet, biting his lip. They just stared back at him silently for several seconds. “I mean,” Malik mumbled, “can you handle that?”
Ryou’s head turned, looking down at the table for a moment before he spoke in a low voice. “I suppose we’re to play tourist for the rest of the week?” he said.
“I think that was the plan, yeah.” Malik nodded. “Their return-flight is on Saturday... I don’t suppose you have a return-flight booked...”
“I don’t imagine so,” Ryou agreed softly. “You said you found a passport?”
“Yeah, in your coat,” Malik confirmed. “Passport, ticket-stubs from the flights to get here, and a candy-wrapper... They travel light.”
“That’s easy if you’re suicidal,” Bakhura snorted. “Or rather, don’t care what happens to the body you’re in, once you get where you’re going.”
“We can book a flight for you on the computer,” Ishizu said, probably considering it a reassurance.
“... Don’t worry about it. I can buy it,” Bakhura said quietly, and tucked some ful into his mouth.
“With what?” Ishizu asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I assume the World Bank has a branch in Cairo?” Bakhura shrugged.
“Of course.”
“And is that passport for ‘Bakura Ryou’?” he asked, glancing to Malik.
“Yeah, I think it’s actually totally legit.” Malik nodded.
“Then we have money,” Bakhura affirmed, trying to re-skewer a piece of egg that fell off his fork. “I keep a small account with them in Ryou’s name. For emergencies.”
Ishizu leaned on an elbow, looking curiously at him for a moment and then not quite shrugging and returning to her coffee. Malik tapped his finger on the table, pondering for a moment before he asked, “What’s a ‘small account’?”
“Six thousand Euros,” Bakhura replied without missing a beat and Ishizu choked. She pushed away from the table as she coughed. Rishid offered her a napkin.
“You anticipate expensive emergencies,” Malik noted, grinning. Bakhura shrugged. Malik sobered, remembering the matter at hand. “So, today...”
“... I won’t kill him,” Bakhura said after a pause. “I make no promises about breaking skin or bones,” he added, then the voice shifted to Ryou’s cadence and became very soft, “He’s not allowed to talk to us.”
“Okay.” Malik nodded.
...
“Bakura-kun!” Anzu shouted, running out into the street when she spotted his bright hair through the crowd. He didn’t smile or respond to her except to make eye-contact. Anzu ignored that, she ran right up and hugged him, which did seem to startle him into a response. He took in a surprised breath and backed up one step, his body going rigid.
“A-Anzu,” he stammered in a low, nervous voice. “Hello.”
“I’m so glad, Bakura-kun! After you fainted yesterday, it was really scary and I’m so glad you’re okay!” When she let him go, he moved a little closer to Malik, looking agitated.
“Thank you for taking care of him,” Anzu said, bowing deeply to Malik and then Ishizu and Rishid. “We really could never figure out how to help him.”
“It’s a difficult situation,” Ishizu answered with a small nod.
Anzu stepped aside a little as Jonouchi and Honda had walked up to greet Bakura too; Yuugi was hanging back. Anzu sent him a ‘get over here!’ look and nodded her head towards Bakura. Yuugi shook his head in answer and looked at the ground.
“Hey, Bakura! Good to see ya among the conscious and sane!” Jonouchi declared and made to slap Bakura on the shoulder.
Bakura grabbed his wrist out of the air and twisted it. Jonouchi made a startled sound and grimaced in pain briefly before staring at Bakura, wide-eyed. Bakura glared back at him. “No love-taps, Jonouchi. I swear to God, if you hit us, we will put you underground,” Bakura said in a low, dangerous voice.
“I... Okay,” Jonouchi mumbled, nodding, and kept staring after Bakura had let him go.
“Bakura, are you okay?” Honda asked in an even tone.
“No. We’re not,” Bakura spat. He curled his shoulders in a bit, putting his hands in his pockets and shifted so his hair covered more of him. “And we don’t want your help. Don’t bother asking.”
“... ‘We’,” Jonouchi repeated with distaste, wrinkling his nose.
“Yes we,” Bakura growled, narrowing his eyes and stepping towards Jonouchi, giving him a challenging glare. “I’m not going to pretend for you anymore. I’m not going to play the stooge for your little band of adventurers. I’m sick of listening to the self-righteous bullshit of that hypocritical bastard!” He pointed his finger accusingly at Atem, who was now standing, looking defiant, from where Yuugi had been hanging back.
“Stop!” Malik grabbed Bakura’s arm and pulled him around. “Look at me. Look at me, Ryou. This is pointless. This isn’t going to help. Just stop it.” Malik firmly gripped Bakura’s shoulders and stared him in the eyes as he spoke. “Stop,” he whispered.
“... I want them buried.”
Anzu actually heard the change in speech-pattern that time. It wasn’t just the directness, because Bakura had been quite direct a moment ago, there was a different tone and the rhythm changed.
“What are you talking about?” Malik asked, looking confused.
“The Millennium Items,” the other Bakura answered in a strong voice, making sure Atem could hear it. “They are the blood and bones of my people. I claim burial-rights and I want them interred!”
There was quiet for a while, only the sounds of the street activity around them to stave off silence, and then Ishizu finally spoke. “That isn’t possible, Bakura.”
“It’s my right!” the other Bakura shouted back at her.
“The Pharaoh is tied to the Millennium Puzzle!” Ishizu insisted, although Anzu was pretty sure the other Bakura was well aware of that fact at the moment.
“He’s no right to it! He’s a murderer and a corpse-thief who couldn’t even wait until they were in the ground!”
“You’re one to talk!” Atemu snapped. “You dragged my father through the sand for miles!”
“I never opened the box!” the other Bakura shot back, eyes flashing with rage. “I’ve never in my life touched a corpse except those of my own people who were fodder for your disgusting little trinkets!”
“I didn’t create them!” Atemu shouted.
“You used them! Even after you knew what they were!” the other Bakura screamed. “You desecrated them! They are the mutilated bodies of my ancestors and you’ve pissed all over their graves!”
“I didn’t have a choice! You caused the threat and forced me to use them!”
“LIAR!”
“Bakhura!” Malik broke in, grabbing Bakura into a forceful hug. Bakura seemed to panic and struggle for a moment before calming slightly. Malik started talking to him in a different language, ancient Egyptian? Anzu couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but she heard ‘Ryou’ several times. His voice grew quieter, murmuring close to Bakura’s ear, as the embrace started looking less like Malik was trying to restrain the other boy and more like he was supporting him.
And then Bakura started sobbing loudly, collapsing against Malik and clinging to him. Malik held him and looked up to Ishizu after a moment. “Sister, I’m taking Bakura home,” he announced.
“Yes.” Ishizu nodded.
Anzu stood, wringing her hands as Malik lead Bakura down the street and out of sight. This was all wrong. This whole situation was impossible. How was this ever supposed to be fixed?
“It’ll be okay, Anzu,” Honda said behind her.
“I don’t see how,” she mumbled, blinking her eyes quickly.
...
“... That was terrible,” one of them whispered, too soft and dejected for Malik to make out which, as they stared at the table. “I can’t believe we cried in front of him.”
“You were well justified for it,” Malik replied, putting a cup of mint tea in front of them. “You’ve been through hell.”
“I... I don’t want to see any of them again. Ever,” Ryou said leaning his head down into his hands. “They’re not my friends. They never cared about me. They just wanted me where they could keep tabs on me.”
“... I know Anzu cares about you,” Malik said, pulling one of the chairs over next to theirs. “I was in her head, remember. And I think it’s a fair bet the others do too... Ryou, they didn’t know. How were they supposed to get it when you were playing it up for them like a soap opera?”
Ryou turned his head a little and looked at Malik through his fringe, a bitter little smile coming to his lips. “I brought it on myself, you mean.”
“No- Ryou...” Malik clenched his teeth, frustrated. “... You talk about them not trusting you, but you never gave them a single ounce of trust.”
“... They wouldn’t understand.”
“They couldn’t understand, Ryou!” Malik caught Ryou’s shoulder and pushed at it, making him look up. “You made Bakhura the villain.”
They stared at him, hurt showing in every line of Ryou’s face. “The Pharaoh was our enemy. It’s because of him.”
“Ryou, that put you at odds with them, but it’s you playing the kidnapped princess that turned Bakhura into the fire-breathing dragon.”
“Shut up! It was my idea!” Bakhura snapped, grabbing Malik’s shirt-collar. “What was I supposed to do? Just make up with him? After what he did to me?”
“Bakhura, you were both pawns!” Malik snapped. “Neither of you set this shit into motion! You were both in the wrong place at the wrong time and you both got manipulated into ruining each other’s lives!”
“You traitor,” Bakhura whispered, and then shoved Malik back, almost knocking him over in his chair.
“Stop it!” Malik half shouted. “Stop making up your own reality! You keep saying he killed your family but he was a God-damned infant, Bakhura!” Malik grabbed their face, framing in Bakhura’s jaw with his hands and forcing eye-contact. “It’s what they wanted you to think! They needed you to be in vendetta-mode and when Aknamkanon died, they couldn’t let you stop! They manipulated you! They made you ignore any rational part of your mind that should have said ‘this isn’t the guy I’m mad at’ so that they could make you finish the ceremony!”
“No no no no,” Bakhura chanted, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking. “That’s not true. It can’t be. I have to- I have to-”
“You fucking know it’s true, Bakhura!” Malik shook him. “It was them! It was always them! And you know who made them answer for it? Pharaoh did!”
“SHUT UP!” Bakhura screamed, trying to push Malik and falling backwards over his chair instead. “SHUT UP! STOP IT! TRAITOR!”
Malik moved over and knelt on the floor next to Bakhura as he curled up in a defensive ball and started sobbing again. “Bakhura, you know it was them.” He leaned down against Bakhura, putting his arms awkwardly around him. “You know. They make you think things, they make you believe things that don’t make any sense. I understand. They can get you believing shit that is just plain stupid. I understand, Bakhura. They did it to me too. It’s what they do. It’s what they are.”
“I-i-ss n-nn-not f-f-f-fa-air!”
“I know, baby, I know,” Malik whispered. “It’s evil... but you can’t make it fair... Hating Pharaoh can’t make it fair...”
Bakhura made a few straining little sounds of stifled sobs through his teeth before letting out a wail and beginning to weep in earnest. Malik dropped his head down, resting it near their throat and staying draped awkwardly over them, his muscles cramping up, until they finally uncurled and rolled over, grabbing him and pulling him closer. They stayed there, lying on the floor, with three thousand years of frustration and anger and pain fueling Bakhura’s tears as he clung to Malik.
“Shhhhhh...” Malik breathed, over and over, stroking his hand over their hair and leaning their foreheads together. “Shhhhh...” His right arm was starting to go numb, pinned between their body and the linoleum; he ignored it and didn’t try to alter their position on the floor. “You are the strongest person I have ever known...” Malik whispered, as the weeping started to get quieter. “To survive what they did to you... It’s amazing.”
“Sh-shut up,” Bakhura mumbled. “I d-don’t want- shut up.”
“Okay,” Malik breathed, stroking his hand over their side. “I just want you to know that I admire you.”
“Shut u-up,” Bakhura said again, stronger and more irritated. He grabbed Malik behind the shoulder and pulled him in roughly, bringing their mouths together too hard and making Malik wince as his upper lip was jammed against his teeth for a moment. He forgot that quickly enough though, as their mouths slid together and Bakhura deepened the kiss a few seconds later.
He knew it was Bakhura kissing him at first, he used more teeth than Ryou, but by ten minutes in, when it had turned to wanton and breathless necking, it wasn’t really possible to tell. It never was at this stage, and Malik kind of thought they lost track too. The first time, the shifts had been obvious, Ryou hesitant but eagerly exploring and Bakhura almost laughing, and sometimes actually laughing out loud. On the dirigible, the night before everything went to shit, they’d been much more synchronized, like now, but not like now; there had been a careless excitement then now it was needy desperation.
It was a strong indicator of how desperate they were that Ryou wasn’t getting anxious about being on the floor or the fact that showers hadn’t been had recently enough. They were ignoring all details that weren’t immediately relevant and focusing solely on the comfort of sensual contact.
They rolled over, pushing Malik onto his back and attacking his neck, their hands sliding up under his shirt, tracing the shape of his ribs. Malik keened lustily. He’d been wanting this for months; longing for them and throwing temper-tantrums of frustration over not even being able to talk to them, an entire planet and the Pharaoh’s spell separating them, all of them, from each other. He pulled at the back of their shirt, slowly walking the fabric up Ryou’s back with his fingers and pressing his palms against the heated skin he uncovered.
They shifted, getting their knees under them, on either side of Malik, and lifting up to pull their shirt off over their head, then tossing it aside. He was so pale, his skin just a little bit translucent, the faintest hint of the colors underneath, blues and reds, not quite visible. Malik started to reach up, but they descended on him again immediately, one hand pulling clumsily at Malik’s shirt and the other fanned out over his stomach. Malik squirmed, struggling to get his elbow out of his sleeve while they were pulling his shirt like that.
The combined efforts finally managed to get Malik’s shirt off. Ryou’s hand planted itself next to Malik’s left shoulder and the other slid under the small of his back, lifting him slightly; then Ryou’s head went down and they licked a line up Malik’s chest from the bottom of his ribs up to his clavicle. Malik arched up into the feeling and started moaning and panting at the same time, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Haah! Haah! Aah! Haah! Ah ah ah ah!”
They slid two fingers slowly up over the crotch of Malik’s pants. Their mouth moved from his chest to his ear, biting the lobe gently and then murmuring, “Hu-how many times di-hid you think ah-bout us and to-houch yourself?”
“Hah Every G-Goddamned uh! day!” Malik panted.
“Yeah?” They licked around the inner edge of Malik’s ear and then caught the top between their lips and sucked, at the same time, they grabbed his crotch firmly.
“Uhhuhuhhung!” Malik whimpered, digging his fingernails into Ryou’s shoulders. “Yes!”
They made a little sigh-like sound that made Malik’s heart beat even faster, then kissed his ear-lobe and whispered, “Wha-at do you wan-nt us to d-hu to you?”
“Bend me over and fuck me ‘til I can’t walk straight!” Malik blurted.
They mewled and nuzzled the sensitive space behind his jaw. “Pro-hoblem. I do-hon’t have a- I don’t- I-” Their panting suddenly began to shift from lusty to panicked and they pushed away slightly. “Oh god! Oh god!” it sounded like Ryou’s hysterical voice.
“What?!” Malik turned his head to look at them and was greeted with a look of terror. “What?! What’s wrong?!”
“Oh god!” They pushed themselves up and put their hands over their face, shaking and starting to sob again. “No no no no!” It was definitely Ryou’s voice now.
“Ryou!” Malik valiantly pushed down the voice that was demanding ‘just shut up and fuck me!’ struggling to sit up, aching, and caught Ryou’s wrists, trying to pull his hands away from his face. “What? What is it?!”
“Hi-hiruta-ni,” Ryou sobbed. “H-he wouldn’t we-ear a condom a-and he w-was like ‘Stupid bitch, d’you th-think you’re gonna g-get pregnant or s-something?’ a-and I di-didn’t- I didn’t- I was so lonely!” Ryou babbled, hysterical sobs falling out between words. “H-he prob-bobly had d-diseases!” he wailed.
Malik stared at him, stunned, blank, what the hell was he supposed to say to that? What was he supposed to do? Ryou was freaking fuck out and Malik had nothing here. What do you say to that? Not saying anything would make it worse, he had to say something, what was he supposed to say?!
“I’m such a WHORE!” Ryou screamed, then he shook his head violently and Bakhura’s voice yelled, “You were raped!” Ryou wailed and dropped his face back into his hands. “I probably have s-syphilis or AIDS now!”
“Ry-Ryou, stop! You’re not a whore!” Malik exclaimed, panicking. “And you don’t have AIDS! Stop freaking out! You’re fine!”
Ryou was hyperventilating and shaking violently, sobbing loud and shamelessly like a terrified child.
“Ryou!” Malik grabbed his shoulders. “Look at me, Ryou! Look! Open your eyes and look at me!” He gave them a shake and when the other teen finally looked back at him, Malik let go of his shoulders and caught his face instead, staring him straight in the eye. “You are not sick,” he said firmly. “And what’s going to happen is you’re going to go to the hospital when you get home, they’re gonna draw your blood and test it, and they’re not gonna find anything in it but blood, and then they’re going to call you up and tell you that you’re fine.”
Somehow that did seem to work and Ryou started to calm down. He looked back at Malik, hiccupping several times, his face wet and still scared. “But what if--”
“You’re fine,” Malik said firmly and then he leaned their foreheads together. “You’re gonna see. You’re just fine.”
Ryou continued hiccupping and sniffling for a while. “I’m s-sorry,” he whimpered.
“Shhh-sh-sh-sh-shhhh,” Malik whispered, rubbing Ryou’s shoulders. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” he whined again. “Y-you wanted to- I- I can’t- n-not until I know for sure. I’m s-sorry!”
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Malik assured him. There was quiet for a little while, punctuated by hiccups, as they just knelt there with their foreheads together. As Ryou’s breathing calmed down, Malik moved his head, and pressed a soft kiss to Ryou’s lips.
Ryou slowly caught his breath, his eyes half-closed and both bright and stormy from crying. Then he looked back up at Malik. Malik smiled softly for him but it dropped into a slightly shocked expression when Ryou said, “I could give you a blow-job.”
“Wh-huh?” Malik fumbled, part of him saying ‘oh God yes yes yes’ and the rest of him being a bit too flabbergasted to form a coherent reply.
“You’re still hard,” Ryou observed, touching Malik’s crotch gently, making him shiver. “Even though me crying at you like that probably has to be pretty unsexy.” He let out a little one-note laugh.
“I- you don’t have to do that,” Malik said, feeling incredibly awkward.
“I want to. I want to. Malik. I want to. Please,” Ryou babbled quickly.
“I- I-” Malik stammered, he was pretty sure this wasn’t the right response to trauma, but his breath was getting fast again and he wanted it so badly. “Y-y-yes-s?”
“Let’s move.” Ryou grabbed his hands. “We-we’re in the kitchen.”
“O-okay.”
...
“Oh wooooow!” Anzu turned a circle, staring at all the dozens and dozens of hanging glass vessels, hovering in the enormous, tiled courtyard. “Ishizu, what are those?”
“Oil lanterns,” Ishizu answered, smiling at her. “They’ve used them to light up the vast spaces like this since long before electric lighting existed.”
“Sweet!” Jonouchi exclaimed. “How big a fire would they get going in one of these things?”
“Not... very big...”
“Hey... Yuugi?” Anzu asked quietly as Jonouchi started yammering about fire or something, “Can I talk to you for a bit?”
“Huh?” Yuugi looked up at her with that expression he always had when somebody addressed him, not Atem, like he was surprised and confused that anyone would want to talk to him. “Y-yeah, sure Anzu! What is it?”
Anzu glanced over at the others, it looked like they’d probably be exploring this courtyard for a while, and caught Yuugi’s hand, leading him over to a corner. “Yuugi... is Atem there right now?” she asked, her eyes flicking over the hanging lanterns and back to Yuugi again.
Yuugi’s face changed to an ‘oh’ kind of expression; he didn’t look hurt, he just looked as though he’d figured out a word-scramble and was readying to write down the answer. He smiled at her, “You can talk to him, Anzu. It’s really not any trouble, I don’t--”
He eeped as Anzu cut him off, dragging him into a tight hug. “Yuugi... do you know how important you are to me?” she whispered near his ear. “You mean a lot to me, Yuugi. I guess I was a little embarrassed to admit it, because it made me feel like such a tomboy, not hanging out with the other girls, but I always felt like you were my very best friend ever since we were kids.” Anzu swallowed against a little knot in her throat, feeling intensely awkward. “You’re the nicest guy I know, Yuugi, and growing up with you and being friends with you has been so so important to me.”
Yuugi was totally frozen and barely even breathing; Anzu found that a little disturbing, so she decided it was probably time to get to the point now. “B-but right now, I’m really worried about everything with Bakura-kun. This whole situation is just really scary and I want to help if I can...”
Yuugi seemed to recover a little at the change of topic. “I- y-yeah, me too,” he mumbled.
Anzu let him go slowly and stood back a little, looking at him as she continued, although he wasn’t meeting her eyes and his face was red. He was so cute sometimes. Often, actually. “It’s just... yesterday I spent, like, three hours talking to Malik about all this, and it really seems like he’s had a good perspective on the whole thing...”
“He knew how to fix it...” Yuugi whispered, his face scrunching up a bit. “If I’d listened to him earlier-- no. You’re wrong. You shouldn’t have done that--”
“Yuugi,”Anzu broke in, catching his shoulders firmly in her hands and making him glance back up at her with a slightly startled look. “Can I talk to him?”
Yuugi blinked at her for a moment and then nodded, closing his eyes and letting his head drop just slightly. A chill ran down Anzu’s spine as she felt a weird power ripple over Yuugi and then his posture straightened and Atem was looking back at her. “What?” he asked, with a great deal more brusqueness than he usually used when he spoke to her, and his eyes flicked away.
“... Do you know what happened to the other Bakura in Egypt?” she asked. That wasn’t quite what she’d been planning on, but she supposed it was a sensible direction to take the conversation in.
Atem was silent for a few beats before answering. “Only what he claimed when he was ranting like a lunatic in the alter room.”
“About how Ku-Kulu-eluna got destroyed?”
“... Yes.” Atem nodded, not looking at her.
Anzu’s eyes wandered to the floor for a moment before she prodded herself onward. “Malik said that the Millennium Items… couldn’t have been made without- without killing at least a thousand people,” she mumbled and then pressed her lips together nervously before glancing back up at Atem’s face.
“... Ma’had said that too...” Atem whispered very quietly. His eyes flew up to meet Anzu’s suddenly and he looked uncharacteristically desperate. “But it wasn’t my fault, Anzu! I didn’t even know--”
“You were a baby.” Anzu nodded and Atem calmed down visibly. “I understand that it wasn’t your fault, Atem, but do you understand that the other Bakura hurts really really badly? We can’t even understand how much, and maybe he doesn’t even know how to be civil... I feel like... we need to try to be more understanding...” Anzu glanced down for a minute, trying to stitch her thoughts together into a sensible order. “It’s just... I mean, it had to be incredibly hard for him and Bakura-kun to even try to meet us today. A-and- he said some terrible things, but... the fact that he was there at all- it shows that he’s trying really hard.”
Atem nodded slowly, his eyes cast toward the floor. He looked sulky and guilty, thoroughly scolded, and Anzu felt herself smiling softly. She reached forward and hugged him. It was pretty much exactly the same as when she’d hugged Yuugi; Atem went very still and tense, seeming to hold his breath a little bit. When she backed up again, he was flushed and didn’t quite look up at her. Anzu couldn’t help laughing, and she watched him get a little more flushed and shift uncomfortably.
She grabbed his hands and put on an encouraging smile as he looked back up at her. “So let’s try our best too, okay?”
“Y-yes,” Atem nodded, glancing away again but looking considerably less tense.
“We’d better get back to the others now and make sure that Jonouchi doesn’t break something,” Anzu suggested.
Atem smiled a bit and let her pull him back towards the center of the courtyard.
...
...
A/N: I picture Ryou as just a little bit of a germaphobe. Not the keeps-their-money-in-plastic-bags kind of germaphobe, but germs worry him. In general, he’s concerned about things like hand railings and buses being insanitary, and incurable diseases scare the ever-loving shit out of him. Note that while syphilis is curable these days, it’s still one of those historically really scary ones.
BTW, the place team-Yuugi is in on the last scene there is Sultan Hassan’s Mosque. It has some seriously bitchin’ architecture and mosaics and fabulous ceramic and glaze work. Oh how I want to do a tour of classical Islamic palaces and Mosques... how many monies do I need... Spain, Persia, Ottoman Empire territory, Arabia and India, North Africa... they’re probably a bit too spread out for one trip... I suppose I’ll start with Spain, it’s technically closest.
Comments, please! Honest, they make me write faster because I get all inspired and stuff! LadyBlackwell and ThiefofSpades, you guys make my day with your multi-paragraphed reviews popping into my inbox within an hour of me posting. I loves you guys.