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Yu-Gi-Oh!: Aurora	By : NeonTiger Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 12172 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Aurora

By Neon Tiger and
Yuki Ryu

Chapter Fourteen

----

�� Malik grimaced
as he slowly awoke from his fitful slumber in the bed he and Bakura shared, his
head spinning and his body aching from head to toe. He felt a pressure pounding
in his head, promising that he'd suffer whether awake or a sleep. The young boy
sat up as his eyes slowly opened, trying to gather his bearings once more.
�� "What...
happened?" Malik murmured, as he waited for his mind to catch up with the
rest of him. When it did, it brought him the answer to his own question. Images
and sounds of his father's death flooded his head, causing his skin to pale and
eyes to widen.
�� It was at that
moment that Bakura entered the room carrying a tray of delicious smelling
food.� He was wearing new clothes and was
completely clean of any trace of blood.�
Immediately he was startled as he noticed that the blond was finally
awake.� "Malik?" he asked, his
voice filled with concern, as he hurried to set the tray on the table beside
the bed so that he could go to his friend's side.
�� Malik looked
up at Bakura with his wide eyes, his body starting to tremble all over.
Shakily, he reached up to grab the thief's arm for support - for reassurance
that there was someone there.
�� Bakura sat
down onto the bed and pulled Malik close, hugging his friend tightly.� "Malik..." he murmured into the
other boy's ear soothingly.� "It's
okay. I'm here."
�� "B-Bakura..."
Malik muttered, his voice weak. He felt sick inside at the very prospect of
bringing up what he had seen, but he had to know. "What happened?"
�� Bakura
couldn't help a grimace from forming on his face.� He had been dreading that question ever since
he had discovered Malik in the temple and had spent the entire time that the
other boy was unconscious thinking about how to explain it to his
companion.� He had been hoping that he
would never have to reveal the darkest side of his life to Malik because of how
horrifying it was.� Now his secret had
been discovered and he couldn't help but wonder if his friend could handle it,
or if Malik would leave him because of it.
�� Even still,
Bakura knew that Malik deserved to know the truth about what happened to his
father.
�� "I... am
sorry, Malik," he said quietly while still holding the other boy as
closely as possible, hoping that apologizing would help matters.� "I never meant for you to see...
that..." he trailed off; uncertain of how the blond would react.
�� Malik didn't
reply at first, clinging to Bakura. He chewed over the thief's words before
lifting his head to stare at Bakura. "What were those... those things? The
things that... ate my father?"
�� Bakura
hesitated before answering, "They were the spirits of my people."
�� Malik blinked
slowly before furrowing his eyebrows. "Spirits?"
�� "They can
never rest until they see justice done for their deaths," Bakura
explained, trying not to let his feelings over the subject leak into his
tone.� The last thing his friend needed
to hear right now was for him ranting about the topic after being so
traumatized.
�� "Justice?"
Malik repeated, making a face. How could his father's death be called justice?
Surely his father had no role in whatever crime was done to the spirits?
�� "I told
you before that the Pharaoh ordered his priests to use my village as
sacrifices, right?" Bakura asked as he thought back to the only time the
subject had come up between them.
�� Malik nodded
slowly at that, gripping Bakura's shoulders. He started to see the connection,
even if he didn't want to. His sister was now a priest of the Pharaoh, which
meant that his father had ties with the Pharaoh.
�� Bakura went
silent as he tried to figure out where exactly to begin.� He had never told anyone about what had
happened to his village before.� Not that
anyone ever wanted to know before.� So it
took him a few moments to decide on how to continue.� "Have you ever heard of the Millennium
Items?"
�� Malik shook
his head. He didn't know a lot about anything, so he had no idea what his
father had been talking about when the old man mentioned his sister had gotten
an item.
�� A quiet noise
of frustration escaped Bakura before he could stop himself.� It didn't really surprise him that Malik
didn't know about the Millennium Items, given how sheltered the former slave
had been when living with his father, but it just made more that the thief had
to explain.
�� "The
Millennium Items..." Bakura began to say then trailed off as a sour
expression came to his face.� So many
people thought of the Millennium Items as holy items: gifts from the gods
bestowed upon only the Pharaoh and his most trusted priests.� Only he knew the truth about what despicable
things they truly were.� "...They
were made using the blood of my people."
�� Malik tensed
as his eyes widened even more, staring at Bakura. "Blood?
...L-literally?"
�� Bakura was
silent as his gaze went someplace distant, seeing that day long ago so clearly
when he had hid in the temple and witnessed the horror of that night.� His silence would have probably been enough
of an answer to Malik's question, but he continued anyway.� "Ninety-nine."
�� Malik stared
at Bakura in disbelief and horror, unable to think of what to say. But what
could he say?
�� "Ninety-nine
were used to make those damn things," Bakura hissed, trying hard not to
lose himself in his memories.�
"Everyone else was unnecessary."� He paused for a moment before his eyes
narrowed.� "No, they were a
liability; a witness to just how little the Pharaoh truly cares about his
people.� They were slaughtered so no one
would know."
�� "...Th-that explains the need for justice," Malik
murmured. It also explained the horrible aura of the city, he thought. The
feeling of death and hatred was strong, and now he knew why.
�� For a few
moments Bakura was quiet before he closed his eyes as the events of that night
once again replayed themselves in his mind's eye.� "They came in the middle of the night,
the Pharaoh's priests and his soldiers..." he began, wanting to tell the
story only once so that he would have less questions to answer later.� "We never saw it coming."
�� Malik moved to
hug Bakura tightly, pressing his face against the thief's chest. He could feel
the pain in Bakura's voice, like a knife stabbing him.
�� Bakura was
startled momentarily by the sudden action, and his focus returned to the
lavender-eyed boy in his arms.� He found himself
for what to say or do for a number of moments before he managed to return the
hug that he had been given and held Malik close.� He started to notice a pressure in his chest,
and it compelled him to continue telling his only friend about the tragedy that
had occured so many years ago.
�� "Kuru Eruna may have been one of
many small villages ruled by the Pharaoh, but we weren't important to the him
or the foreign invaders," he began, failing at hiding the bitterness in
his voice. "We were just a small village in an isolated valley, and no one
except the Pharaoh and his priests knew about how some of us could use magic
and had access to ancient texts.� No one
every thought we were in any real
danger... except for my father.� That's
why he started building this place."
�� "The
cave?" Malik murmured, his lips inadvertently brushing against Bakura's
chest as he spoke.
�� A small quiver
ran through Bakura's body at the feeling and though it would have brought
delightfully naughty thoughts any other time, right now he just wasn't in the
mood.� "That's right," he said
quietly with a slight nod.� "But he
died before he could finish it..." A he paused for a moment before a dry,
almost humorless chuckle escaped him, as a thought struck him as almost
irony.� "I'm still not sure who
found it and tried to finish his work."
�� Malik didn't
reply, as he wasn't sure how to respond. He just waited for Bakura to continue.
�� The thief
closed his eyes again, seeing that night so clearly, which returned him to his
somber mood.� "They condemned us as
thieves," he continued in a low voice.�
"They claimed that the entire village was stealing from the
Pharaoh's tombs because we were the ones who made them.� Anyone who dared to fight back died.� The rest were forced into the underground
temple... where the priests performed the ritual..."
�� Malik remained
silent as he processed the information. The temple must have been that dark
room he had seen his father die in.
�� "They
chose ninety-nine of my people... including my mother and father." Bakura
felt his throat start to constrict, as this was the most painful part of his
memory.� "M-my mother... she saw
me.� I... I wanted to run to her, but...
I could see it in her eyes.� She wanted
me to stay hidden."� He paused for a
moment and then let out a quiet chuckle that seemed to hold a note of hysteria
in it.� "I don't even remember why I
was there that night.� I just remember I
was there and when I heard people shouting I hid."
�� Malik felt his
eyes water as he tightened his grip around Bakura. He thought of his own
mother, or at least what he imagined her to be like, and wondered if she
would've done the same for him.
�� Bakura
returned the hug, holding Malik tightly as he rested his cheek atop the blond's
head, needing his friend's comfort while he relived that night.� "The soldiers forced them to fall into a
giant cauldron one at a time...� If they
didn't they were killed with spears, and the priests picked someone else to
replace them."� He paused for a
moment, as he grasped for words to properly describe the horror that he had
been forced to witness that robbed him of his innocence so long ago.� "They were... melted down...� The priests used Dark Alchemy... and their
bodies melted into gold... while they
were still alive!"
�� Malik
shuddered, moving even closer to Bakura. He felt cold, infinitely cold inside.
�� "M-my
m-mother she..." Bakura's voice started to choke, as the memory created a
distinct tightness in his throat and an unwelcome sting to his eyes.� An expression of rage crossed his features
and his grip became nearly painful on Malik's body as a dark hatred mixed with
the sorrow.� "The s-soldiers... they
threw her in!� She tried to escape and those bastards threw
her in!"� He dug his fingers into
Malik's sides, as the memory made him wish with all his might to have somehow
been able to kill those soldiers before they murdered his mother, instead of
simply hiding and watching with fear like he had back then.
�� Malik yelped
in surprise and pain, eyes widening as Bakura's nails cut into him.
"B-Bakura-!?"
�� The blond's
cry snapped Bakura back to reality and he immediately loosened his grip once he
realized what he was doing.�
"Sorry... I'm sorry..." he said quietly, feeling guilty that
he had accidentally hurt Malik, particularly after the trauma that he had
inflicted upon his friend last night.
�� Malik kept his
reactions carefully hidden, not daring to see if the thief cut the skin as it
might make the thief feel guilty and Bakura had already been through a lot. He
had also been through a lot, Malik had to admit, but he never could grasp the
concept of putting other people's pain after his own.
�� However,
despite the fact that Bakura still had more to tell of his past and felt an
almost desperate need to finish his tale, at the same time he wanted to comfort
Malik, and make up for the pain he had caused his companion.� Gently he nudged Malik backwards to lay the
blond down onto the bed and then moved to kiss the red marks that his nails had
left behind on his friend's tanned skin.
�� Malik squeaked
in surprise, then gasped at the feeling of the hot lips against his skin. He
trembled slightly, as it felt rather good. Unfortunately, his body wasn't
responding nearly as strongly as it normally would have, but then how could it
after he witnessed his father's death?
�� "I'm
sorry," Bakura repeated, murmuring against the blond's damaged skin.� While the marks thankfully didn't seem deep
enough to bleed, they were still an angry shade of red.� He felt angry with himself for making them
and made sure to grip the sheets rather than Malik's body so that it wouldn't
happen again.� He wanted to explain
himself, to somehow make up for what he had done, but he knew that it was
obvious that he lost himself in his past hatred.
�� "It's...
it's fine," Malik murmured, squirming slightly underneath Bakura.
"You just... you were just angry... about what happened."
�� Bakura nodded
with a quiet grunt before he rested his cheek against Malik's chest, listening
to his friend's heartbeat.� "I hated
them," he said lowly as he gripped the bedding tightly in each fist.� "I hated all of them... including my
father."
�� "Your
father?" Malik blinked at that, surprised at such a statement. "Why
did you... hate your father?"
�� Bakura went
silent for a few moments and he closed his eyes as his voice became somewhat
rough, his emotions a mixture of anger, bitterness, and sadness.� "He gave up.� He didn't even try to fight... he just...
walked off the edge and fell right in.� I
don't even think he screamed.� He just...
let himself die."
�� Malik went
quiet at that, as he wasn't sure how to reply, and moved his hands to stroke
Bakura's hair.
�� "He could
have at least... said something or done something instead of just letting
himself be sacrificed too."� Bakura
tried to ignore the sting in his eyes.
�� "Bakura..."
Malik murmured as he gently stroked Bakura's hair, his own trauma momentarily
forgotten in the wake of the thief's overwhelming pain. He had never even
suspected that Bakura was in so much agony over his past.
�� For a few
moments Bakura simply lay there, breathing deeply, as he tried not to cry.� Long ago he swore to himself that he would
never cry again, and he wasn't about to break that promise, even if he was
finally unloading the pain in his heart onto someone he could trust by reliving
it.� "After they had their
ninety-nine sacrifices... the priests ordered the soldiers to kill everyone
left alive... including each other."
�� Bakura paused
for a few moments, attempting to concentrate on the feeling of Malik's fingers running
through his hair and the blond's heartbeat.�
"After everyone else was dead, the priests finished their ritual
and created the Millennium Items.� They
also summoned the tablet from the underworld... and a demon.� The demon killed two of the priests, but one
of them dispelled it, so the last two escaped with the Millennium
Items..." A sneer appeared on his face.�
"That demon was part of some sort of pact they made with it for
power and they dared call those things holy."
�� Malik furrowed
his eyebrows. It only made sense that making anything in such an unspeakably
evil way would make evil, not good. How could anyone believe the opposite?
�� After a few
moments Bakura let out a breath of air, as he tried not to let his emotions run
rampant.� "After that... I was all
alone... There was nothing left in the village except for me... and the dead...
until animals came to scavenge them."
�� Malik moved to
rest his chin against Bakura's head, closing his eyes as his fingers continued
their idle caress. He was at a loss what to say, so all he could do was listen
to Bakura and offer him silent support. What could he say? He couldn't even
comprehend such a level of pain and loss.
�� A quiet
humorless chuckle escaped Bakura as he opened his eyes again.� "You know, it's kind of funny.� Seeing people I know melt into gold wasn't as
bad as watching the rest of their corpses slowly rotting away." He paused
for a moment and his voice became somewhat faint and gained an odd undertone. "Sometimes
it made me wish... that they all had been used as sacrifices... just so I
wouldn't have had to watch them rot."
�� Malik
grimaced, as he recalled the dried bones covering the village. His mind
unwittingly started to paint what they might have looked like with flesh on
their bones, which immediately caused his stomach to churn.
�� "It was
when the bodies started to rot that they appeared," Bakura continued
quietly, not noticing his friend's discomfort.�
"The spirits of my people began to haunt me.� They kept calling me, louder and louder,
until I could finally understand what they wanted... and I could see
them."
�� Malik
shivered, feeling cold just from hearing Bakura mention the glowing,
bloodthirsty killers. He could almost feel them against his skin, causing goose
bumps to form.
�� "They
want me to avenge them, to serve justice to the Pharaoh and his people in their
name."� Bakura closed his eyes
again, trying not to grimace.� "I
hear them all the time in the back of my mind.�
They're never silent.� They only
grow louder the longer I ignore them, and I can only quiet them by giving them
sacrifices... like your father."
�� "M-my
father..." Malik murmured breathlessly, Bakura's words bringing to mind
how his father had died and the screams he made in the process of it. The
images immediately brought to mind something else. "Was I... going to be a
sacrifice?"
�� The question
chilled Bakura to the core, causing his body to tense, and he found that he was
unable to answer.
�� Malik opened
his eyes to look at Bakura, noticing the boy's reaction. Taking the reaction as
an unspoken reply, the young boy felt the sickness in his stomach increase.
"W-what made you change your mind...?"
�� It was a
number of long moments before Bakura could speak again in a quiet voice.� "You were innocent."
�� "Innocent?"
Malik repeated, very confused.
�� "When I
capture people I usually take them to different places across the desert, just
to see what they'll try and do," Bakura explained as he shifted slightly
so that he could look up at his companion.�
"I judge them.� If they try
to attack or kill me or say or do anything else that shows that they're just as
guilty as the Pharaoh, I sacrifice them to the spirits.� If they don't then they're innocent, and I
take them someplace far away from the Pharaoh's kingdom and let them go."
�� Malik looked
at Bakura before his face started to blush as something occurred to him.
"Did you... offer anyone else... what you offered me?"
�� "No."� Bakura propped himself up onto his arms and
moved so that he was looming over the blond, peering deeply into Malik's
beautiful lavender eyes.�
"Never."
�� Malik's blush
darkened as he stared up at Bakura, his heart skipping a beat before a soft
smile crossed his face. "Good..."
�� Bakura
couldn't help but return the smile with a small one of his own before he leaned
in a little closer to his friend.� He
thought about the revelation that he had come to yesterday about Malik, and the
feelings that the blond had generated within him.� "You're the only one... who I ever
wanted to be close to... even after I grew up hating everyone."
�� Malik leaned
forward to press his forehead against Bakura's. "I'm... glad you don't
hate me."
�� A breathy
chuckle escaped Bakura as his smile grew.�
"I'm glad that I don't hate you either."
�� Malik
snickered quietly at that, still playing with Bakura's hair. He wasn't sure
what to say to the thief, or even how he should feel. He was confused, very
deeply confused; his father had abused him and, even to the last minute, denied
he even existed. So why should it hurt him that his father died? And yet, the wicked
old man was - or had been - his father.
�� And yet by the
same token, Bakura was very kind to him. The thief made him happy and warm,
making him feel as though he had a right to exist and wanted to do just that
with Bakura for the rest of their lives. And yet, the thief killed his father.
�� Which emotion
was the right one to follow? Were any of them right?
�� In spite of
this confusion, there was one thing he knew for certain.
�� He loved
Bakura.
�� Bakura
continued to chuckle quietly as he smiled at Malik.� He felt so relieved that he didn't scare away
his only friend after his secrets had been revealed, especially in such a
horrifying manner.� He had been worried
that Malik would never forgive him for murdering his father.� No matter how abusive the old man was, Malik
still thought far too highly of the bastard.
�� Not only had
his dark side been revealed, but also Bakura finally was given the chance to
tell someone the truth about what happened to his people for the first time,
and that someone cared about how much it hurt him.� It felt as if a weight had been removed from
his heart.� Even though he still was
obligated to the will of the spirits, which meant that he would have to kill
again until they could rest in peace, this moment he shared with Malik made it
somehow seem much easier to bear.
�� Malik leaned
against Bakura as he mulled over what the thief had told him. He had never even
suspected that such horrible forces troubled Bakura. He also had no idea that they were the reason he'd go out to steal
when he didn't need to. It also begged a rather terrible question.
�� Would Bakura
keep doing it?
�� After a few
moments of silence, Malik gathered the courage to speak. "Bakura? Are you
going to... keep sacrificing people?"
�� The smile slipped
away from Bakura's face as his expression grew serious.� He looked away, unable to meet the other
boy's gaze when Malik heard the answer.�
"Yes," he said quietly, his tone forcibly neutral.
�� Malik sat up
slightly as he looked at the thief, concerned. "...Bakura... you
shouldn't..."
�� Bakura moved
back to sit down onto the bed beside the former slave, still not looking at
Malik.� "I have to," he said,
somewhat tense.� "If I don't bring
justice to the spirits of my people they'll never rest in peace." �He paused for a moment before muttering
quietly.� "And neither will I."
�� "B-but
what makes you think this is the way to do it?" Malik pressed. "I
mean, it hasn't worked yet! You've been doing this for years, right? And yet
it's not getting better!"
�� "There
isn't anything else I can do," Bakura grunted, starting to grow
frustrated.� It was impossible to explain
to someone just how maddening it was to hear vengeful spirits constantly
whispering inside of his head all of the time, with the only relief being a
guilty soul's death.� "Until I'm
strong enough to face the Pharaoh and his priests with the Millennium Items and
their Ka... I can only temporarily appease the spirits by sacrificing their
people."
�� Malik felt at
a loss. Weakly, he tried to move about so that he could see Bakura's face.
"W-what if you moved away? Moved to where you can't hear them
anymore?"
�� Bakura could
feel that statement strike a chord inside of him and caused a sharp twitch
through out his body.� His face flushed
red with sudden irrational anger as he snapped his head about to face Malik
with a glare.� "You expect me to run away?� You want to give up and forget about
them?!"
�� Malik jerked
back instinctively, feeling a bit unnerved by the anger Bakura was showing
towards him. "...N-no, but... but killing people... isn't that becoming
exactly like those priests...?"
�� A sickly
expression appeared on Bakura's face before he looked away again.� He hadn't meant to snap at his friend like
that, particularly after everything that had happened, and Malik wasn't really
telling him anything that he hadn't already thought about before.� Unfortunately the other boy hadn't spent
anywhere near the amount of time that he had thinking about this, and didn't
know every detail about as he did.�
"No, it's not," he grunted in a rough voice.� "I only kill when I have to... and only
guilty souls.� I don't kill
innocents.� I don't slaughter entire
villages of men, women, and children!"
�� "B-but..."
Malik muttered, looking down at his lap. He shouldn't have opened his mouth -
who cared what he thought, anyway?
�� Bakura closed
his eyes, grimacing at how Malik's voice wavered.� A heavy sigh escaped him and he felt so
frustrated because of the entire situation.�
He needed to help his friend understand that he had no choice in this
matter without making Malik feel badly about it.� He took a little bit of time to think about
how to best explain the situation without getting instinctively defensive over
it.
�� Malik fidgeted
and looked away, feeling a bit sick in his stomach. He supposed it was just how
he was brought up - confrontation of any kind made him terrified.
�� Bakura glanced
at Malik then looked down at his lap where he had placed his hands.� "...I ran away before," he said
hesitantly, cautiously admitting something that he would rather not talk about
in an effort to help Malik understand why the subject set him off so
easily.� Hopefully it would help his
friend hurt a little less.
�� Malik looked
up at that but didn't say anything.
�� "After
that night, after the spirits revealed themselves and I understood what they
wanted from me, I ran away... and I never wanted to go back there."� He paused for a moment to look at Malik out
of the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to his lap once he saw that
the blond was watching him.�
"...I... was scared.� I was
only eight... I didn't want to kill anyone... but they were never going to
leave me in peace.� Not even in
death."
�� "T-they
found you?" Malik asked, weakly.
�� A thin sickly
smile appeared on Bakura's face, as a bit of irony came to him.� "They can't leave Kuru
Eruna, but they don't have to.� I'm a cursed soul too... just like them.� That's why I can hear them when no one else
can.� That's why they only listen to
me... and I have no choice but to listen to them."
�� Malik
hesitated before moving to spoon up against Bakura, seeking his warmth as well
as sharing his own. He didn't know what to say or do, as the whole thing
terrified him.
�� Bakura
blinked, somewhat startled by the action, particularly after how much he had
been scaring the blond.� He turned to
look at Malik and smiled weakly at the other boy, wanting to show that he
appreciated Malik's concern for him, and then leaned back against his friend.� "It feels strange..." he muttered
quietly.
�� "What
feels strange?" Malik asked, momentarily afraid that the thief meant that
their closeness felt strange.
�� A quiet
chuckle escaped Bakura as he smiled a bit more at his friend.� "Having someone actually give a damn
about me," he explained as he moved to brush his cheek against Malik's as
his hand caressed the other.
�� Malik blinked,
then blushed and leaned in to the caress. "Oh... well, I... I do
care."
�� "I
know," Bakura murmured, his lips brushing against the blond's cheek,
before he leaned back slightly.�
"You're the first one to ever care about me since..." He
paused momentarily and tried not to let himself get distracted by
self-pity.� He still had to tell Malik
more about his past, so that his friend would truly understand the difficult
situation that he was in.
�� Malik was at a
loss how to respond, so he simply leaned up against the thief. He rested his
head on Bakura's shoulder, closing his eyes.
�� The
silver-eyed boy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before he continued
dredging up the terrible memories of his past.�
"After I ran away I ended up wandering the desert until a caravan
found me.� They took me to a healer who
nursed me back to health... and then they told me that I had to repay my debt
to them.� I didn't really understand it
right away back then, but I became a slave."
�� Bakura paused
for a moment as he thought back to that time, of how he had been kept in the
house of a man he had long forgotten the name of and acted as a servant.� It hadn't been all that terrible, save for
the fact that he had no one to care about him.�
That is, until the man got into debt.�
"...When I was nine I was sold to a priest.� Not just any priest but one who possessed a
Millennium Item.� He liked to... collect
children.� Especially foreigners and
little girls."� He grit his teeth as
this particular memory angered him and wounded his pride.� "Unfortunately for me, back then people
mistook me for both."
�� Malik looked
absolutely flabbergasted at that. He leaned back and stared at Bakura's
sculpted chest, then looked up at Bakura's face. His gaze shifted between the
two repeatedly for a moment, and then leaned in to feel Bakura's pectorals, as
if testing them.
�� The thief
couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh because of Malik's reaction and how
the blond touched his chest.� "Surprising,
I know," he commented, amused.�
"But I've spent a lot of time making myself strong like this.� When I was younger for some reason people
would mistake me for my sister until my mother started cutting my hair
short."� He paused to snort in irritation.� "We might have been twins but we didn't
really look that much alike.� We were
both albino like our father was, but she had blue eyes like our mother, and her
hair was white and nowhere near as messy as mine."
�� Malik still
looked rather incredulous at the very idea that anyone could mistake Bakura for
a girl.
�� Bakura let out
a quiet grunt, as he disliked the idea himself.�
"I suppose it's because I was so skinny at that time and because my
hair had grown long people assumed that I was a girl.� I didn't know how to turn my skin tan back
then either.� My mother would cast that
spell on me, my sister, and my father every day so that we wouldn't burn in the
sun.� It wore off after a day or so, and
because only foreigners have pale skin like mine, no one ever gave it a second
thought.
�� "I... I
see..." Malik muttered; feeling too overwhelmed to think of what else to
say.
�� Bakura paused
for a moment then sighed as he leaned back slightly.� "After I was sold was about the time
that I realized that the spirits of Kuru Eruna were still reaching out to me.� Even in the Pharaoh's city I could still hear
them.� They haunted my dreams and even
sent me visions while I was awake."�
He paused for a few moments before continuing in a quiet voice.� "I felt like I was going
insane."� Again he paused, as a
sudden thought struck him as ironic, causing him to chuckle quietly.� "I probably am insane, aren't I?"
�� Malik trembled
slightly as he felt very overwhelmed. He was having trouble following Bakura
anymore, as it just felt like he was getting too much shoved in his head too
soon. He didn't know what to say or think, especially to Bakura's back-story.
On one hand, he wanted to run away and stop hearing about so much pain and
suffering stacking on to his own. On the other hand, Bakura needed him.
�� And yet, he
needed something too. He had just
seen his father die at the hands of his best friend. Was it really selfish to
just want to run away?
�� Malik felt as
if he was getting pummeled emotionally, and he simply wasn't ready for any of
it. He wasn't being given a chance to even recover from the previous blow
before the next blow knocked the wind out of him.
�� "I
suppose that's why I finally listened to them the night that the priest tried
to..." Bakura began then stopped abruptly, blinking with surprise, as he
noticed that the blond had started to tremble.�
He ceased his story right there so that he could really pay attention
Malik's expression and body language, and take in how sick the other boy
looked.
�� The instant
Bakura realized that he was the reason why Malik was trembling and that he was
essentially giving his only friend more emotional baggage to weigh Malik's
heart down further, which made the thief want to slap himself. However, he
settled for doing it mentally rather than physically for the moment, since if
he did the latter it would only cause Malik further distress.� Inwardly he chastised himself very harshly,
as he reminded himself that he had just killed Malik's father, and was using
the blond's need for a reason why as a way to vent his own problems and excuse
his behavior.� It didn't matter his past,
his intentions, his reasoning, or how horrible the old man had been.� The bottom line was that he had murdered
someone important to Malik, and a family member no less.
�� The more
Bakura thought about it the more he wondered what he was thinking telling Malik
more than just the basic facts about what his friend needed to know.� It wasn't as if he needed to tell anyone about all that he had suffered over the
years.� He had spent all this time never
telling a soul, and even if no one did care to know anything about him before,
it wasn't as if he type to complain about things; especially things that he
couldn't change.� The knowledge of what
had happened to his people was his burden alone to bear, and he could not
expect Malik, someone so fragile and so important to him, to handle any part of
it.
�� Bakura let out
a frustrated huff and leaned back on his arms as he glanced over at the wall so
that he wouldn't have to look at how much emotional damage he had wrought to
the one he loved.� "Look, just,
never mind about all that," he said, deciding that changing the subject as
soon as possible would be the best thing now.�
"Just forget it.� The only
really important thing is that I'm sorry that you had to go through all
this.� If I had known that you were going
to be there when I killed your father or that I would end up telling you about
all this I never would have done it."
�� Malik stared
at Bakura for a moment, and then moved to spoon up against Bakura's side.
"I just..." he began, his voice breaking. He hesitated, and then
swallowed roughly. "I... don't know what to do... or think... I
just..."
�� Bakura glanced
at Malik before pulling the other boy into his lap so that he could hold Malik
close to comfort the person who was the most important to him in the
world.� "Don't worry about it,"
he said soothingly as he began to rub Malik's back.
�� Malik closed
his eyes as he leaned up against Bakura, trying to get his feelings under
control. Even if Bakura did tell him not to worry about it, he knew that such a
thing was impossible.
�� Bakura closed
his eyes as well as he tried to think of how he could help the other boy cope
with everything that Malik had seen and heard.�
It felt rather viciously ironic that he had spent so much time trying to
think of a way to help Malik, when all he accomplished was to make things
harder for his friend.� Despite being
angry with himself for not being able to somehow answer Malik's questions
without causing further damage, dwelling on it would do neither of them any
good now.
�� "...Bakura?"
Malik looked up at the thief, resting his chin against Bakura's chest.
"...Can we just... stay like this for a while...?"
�� "Of
course," Bakura said softly before he moved to brush his lips lightly
against Malik's forehead.� "We can
do whatever you want."
�� Malik murmured
his thanks, closing his eyes and tilting his head so that he could listen to
Bakura's heartbeat. His mind and emotions were in turmoil, though, so he could
barely hear the rhythmic sound in his aching head.
�� Carefully
Bakura shifted so that he could lean back against the headboard of the bed,
moving slowly so that he wouldn't disturb Malik as they got into a comfortable
position.� It was then that the obvious
solution suddenly came to him about how to make his friend feel better.� So he began to softly sing his mother's
lullaby, as he had done many times in the past.
�� Malik lifted
his head slightly at the first sounds of the familiar lullaby, before settling
down once again. He listened quietly, feeling the song embrace his senses and
comfort him. The soothing melody chased away his troubles and fears, even if it
was for a moment, and gave him a sense of peace.
�� The pain gave
way to pleasant numbness, allowing his mind to drift away.
�� The last
thought Malik had, before he drifted asleep, was of how warm and safe he felt.
Even if Bakura had killed his father, the silver-eyed boy was still the most
important person in his life.
�� And nothing
was going to change that.
- 13
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Yu-Gi-Oh!: Aurora