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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
- 2
- 3
- 4
Aurora

By Neon Tiger and
Yuki Ryu

Chapter Three

----

�� The sun slowly
started to set in the desert as evening came, casting the sands in a golden red
light. Malik slumped forward, exhausted from the long ride and simply too tired
to even bother holding himself up anymore. His eyes felt sore, begging for
sleep yet struggling to stay open. His muscles ached all over, reminding him
constantly of his situation.
�� Even if he had
managed to get sleep, he would only have dreamed of misery. He was so
exhausted, tired of riding on the horse and tired of his ordeal. The incident
at the barn and the oasis seemed like naught but a distant memory; he began to
wonder if they even happened.
�� Just as the
poor boy was close to nodding off, the thief finally brought the dark horse to
a halt. Malik jerked awake, blinking slowly, before he looked around wearily.
He paled at the sight of his surroundings, his breathing hitching as his heart
leapt into his throat.
�� They had come
to a stop in the middle of a dead village.
�� The village
seemed to have, at one time, been quite large and was surrounded on virtually
all sides by a sheer cliff face, giving ideal protection from the harsh
sunlight and lessening the sometimes unbearable desert heat. It may have been a
beautiful place once, perhaps even rivaling the beauty of the Pharaoh's city,
or fairly ordinary even if large, but the sheer amount of devastation made it
nearly impossible to tell which it may have been. Not one building remained
intact, and most seemed to be no longer standing, leaving many piles of brick
and rubble scattered about over cracked and brittle ground. It was almost as if
a large natural disaster had hit the small valley the village resided in,
stealing it of every trace of life and leaving nothing but a brutal and
unforgiving ruin. There weren't even any signs of water or plant life among the
devastation. Not even sand from outside of the canyon seemed to dare wish to
intrude upon the desolate village.
�� It was as if
the very ground they stood upon were cursed by the Gods themselves.
�� Corpses, or
rather the skeletal remains of dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of people lay
scattered about amongst the rubble, as ruined as the village itself. They were
robbed of their once living flesh and denied a proper burial as the unforgiving
sun bleached them a stark white.
�� The air was
thick, and there was a slight mist that covered the ground, although it was
more prominent when one's gaze was turned towards the heavens. Slim gray clouds
seemed to enshroud the cursed village, trying to block out the sun, or maybe
merely serve as a warning that the gods' mercy would never shine upon such a
place.
�� Malik stared
in absolute horror, his eyes wide. His face drained of all color, causing the
purple bags under his eyes to become incredibly visible. He felt like the very
breath had been yanked out of his lungs, his body forgetting how to breathe.
His body took to shaking as it became all too clear to him what the thief had
in store for him, if the skeletal remains were any clue as to what his fate
would be.
�� "Welcome
to Kuru Eruna," the
thief practically purred in Malik's ear, the noise startling the frightened boy
as it broke the silence.
�� Malik twitched
slightly as he felt his nausea return a hundred-fold, his breathing becoming
more and more hysterical. His hands trembled as he gripped his arms, not daring
to hold onto anything else.
�� A soft, almost
sobbing whimper escaped the terrified boy as he shook his head weakly. He
didn't want to know what the thief intended to do. He wanted to go home. His
body ached, his mind ached; he didn't think there was any part of him that
didn't ache.
�� The shivering
boy snapped his eyes shut. He didn't want to see the village anymore nor the
thief's sneering smile, least of all his own demise. How would he die? Would he
be hung, beaten to death, or simply stabbed? Perhaps he'd be stoned, as there
were plenty of THOSE to go around. Whatever the case may be, he knew it would
be the end for him. He didn't know where his soul would go, but at least he had
the consolation of going to see his mother. Still, that didn't make him feel
any better. The blond began to mutter, trying to pray to any god who would listen
for protection and (in the worst case scenario) guidance through the afterlife.
�� "What was
that?" the thief asked after hearing his captive begin to mutter to
himself, his voice low and curious.
�� "P-please
forgive me," Malik whispered as he kept his eyes snapped shut. "For
whatever sin I have committed... that prompted you to send your servant to
punish me..." This had to be the punishment of the gods his father had
been waiting for. The thief had been sent by the gods to slay him for his crimes
of existence. It was the only explanation.
�� "You
think the gods sent me to kill you?" his captor asked, one eyebrow
quirked.
�� Malik
hiccupped, trying to resist the sobs that were trying to force their way from
his lithe form. He nodded weakly, his eyes starting to sting as pools of tears
formed. This may have been his punishment but he couldn't help but think it was
entirely unfair; and even if it wasn't punishment sent by the gods, it was
definitely an ironic and cruel thing for fate to do to him!
�� "You
might as well stop praying," the thief pointed out, an odd yet frightening
smile on his face. "The gods help no one in Kuru
Eruna."
�� Malik trembled
as he started to hyperventilate, his fear threatening to drown him in his
tears. His sobs started to bubble out before he bowed his head, covering his
face with his hands. "I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" he practically wailed.
�� The bandit
blinked at the outburst, taken back momentarily. "Didn't mean what?"
he asked once he recovered from his surprise.
�� "I DIDN'T
MEAN TO BE BORN!" Malik screamed, holding his head as he trembled. He
couldn't hold the sobs back anymore as he felt the tears pour down his cheeks.
"IT JUST HAPPENED!"
�� The thief
didn't say anything, his smile disappearing altogether, as he stared at the
wailing blond before him, stunned.
�� Malik
continued to sob, holding his head as he shook violently. He couldn't stop
himself, finally overwhelmed from the stress, fear, and pain that filled his
mind. He didn't want to die, but apparently everyone else in the world wanted
him to! Malik felt himself start to dry heave, his stomach threatening to force
up his last few meals unless he calmed himself down. The boy covered his mouth,
shaking violently, and desperately wished his heart to just stop right then; he
could die quietly and without much pain, but he knew no such wish would happen.
�� Suddenly he
found his mind snapped back to reality as his chin was grabbed and tilted
upwards.
�� Malik yelped
in surprise, almost falling backwards. What had happened!?
�� He was
immediately startled to find that thief was giving him a piercing gaze; the
look so intense it was as if the other man was seeing into his very soul.
�� Malik sucked
in a gasp of air, his eyes widening drastically. He tensed, uncertain of what
was happening, as his silken blond locks clung to his sweaty brow. His skin
glimmered bronze in the sun, his gold hair flowing free. His breathing hitched
as he held as still as he possibly could. What was the thief doing? What was he
looking at so intently? Did he intend to watch him like this as he killed him?
�� The thief
simply gazed at him.
�� Malik blinked
slowly, tears still trickling down his cheeks. He breathed heavily, gulping for
air. He didn't know what the thief was doing, nor did he want to know. It was
most likely something awful!
�� "You can
calm down," the thief said as he took the reigns, his arms going to either
side of the blond sitting before him. "You're not going to die."
�� "H-huh?"
Malik stared at the thief, his eyes wide. He couldn't possibly have heard what
he thought he did!
�� "You're
not going to die," the bandit repeated as he gazed at his captive.
�� "I... I
don't understand," Malik whimpered after a moment, his eyes watering even
more. Was the thief teasing him now?
�� His captor
didn't answer as he directed the dark horse to start moving again.
�� "W-what-!?"
Malik instinctively grabbed the thief's arms, tensing as he half expected to
fall over. "W-where are we going!?"
�� The thief
gazed at the panicked boy, the look piercing and a little frightening.
"I'll give you two choices. I could either drop you off in some oasis in
the middle of the desert so far from home that you'll never get back, or you
give yourself to me."
�� Malik was
dumbfounded. His eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked at the thief
as if he had just sprouted a second head. After a moment of struggling, the
blond finally managed to find his voice. "G-give myself to you...? W-what
does that mean?"
�� "That
you'll turn your life over to me." The thief grinned in a slightly wicked
manner. "Essentially I'll own you."
�� Malik couldn't
believe what he was hearing. The thief was offering him a choice between death
and slavery! Which did he fear more: dying or whatever the thief had in mind
for him? The blond shivered, and then held his head weakly. It wasn't a hard
choice, in the end. No matter how much he feared the thief, he was still much
more afraid of death. "I... I don't want to die," he managed to say,
his voice breaking.
�� "I told
you, you're not going to die," the bandit said as he eyed his captive.
�� Now Malik knew
he was being mocked. Given the incident with the jackals, both the thief and
Malik knew quite well how he'd fair on his own in the middle of the desert. The
thief's offer, no matter how much he dressed it up, was still slavery or death.
�� He had absolutely
no choice.
�� Malik
swallowed hard, and then looked up at the thief, feeling sick to his stomach
all over again. "I'll... give myself to you... though all I can do is
clean..."
�� The thief
smirked wickedly. "That's fine."
�� Malik had a
sinking suspicion it wasn't fine. He flinched and bowed his head, wondering
what sort of situation he had just sold himself into. Given his luck, he'd most
likely end up as a bed whore to the thief. That thought gave him shivers.
�� "What's
your name?" the bandit suddenly asked.
�� "Ah? ...
M-my name is Malik..." Malik replied, his voice breaking.
�� The thief
smirked and said nothing further as the two of them rode away from the cursed
village.

----

�� Malik gasped
for breath as he fumbled along the mountain path, his feet aching painfully. He
was seriously reconsidering his previous words at the cursed town; with each
passing stub of his toe and twist of his injured ankle, the poor blond had to
wonder if living was really worth the constant pain and horror that the thief
was offering him.
�� The only
saving grace for the weary boy was that the sun did not bear down on him
harshly; they were in a large canyon filled with sheer and irregularly shaped
cliff sides, some of which serving as a natural cover from the sun, which cast
the canyon mostly in shadow. There were also many caves that could be spied
everywhere, but no one seemed to occupy them save for an occasional animal
since Malik had yet to see anyone but the two of them in the canyon.
�� "You're
not going to faint are you?" the thief asked as he paused to gaze back at
Malik. He didn't seem phased by walking the path at all, which hinted that had
to have made the trek many times before.
�� "No, I...
I..." Malik fumbled, then collapsed against a large rock, panting.
"Please... just a minute... just a minute to catch my breath..."
�� "Fine,"
the thief sighed, obviously irritated, before he sat down on another sizable
rock nearby to wait for the lavender-eyed boy to catch his breath.
�� "I'm
sorry," Malik whimpered, pressing his forehead against the rock. Though he
knew he was saved at the moment, he could only guess what could happen if the
thief grew tired of him. He was still on fragile ground, a fact that made him
all the more terrified.
�� The man looked
at Malik critically, his gaze particularly falling on the tired boy's feet.
"How badly do your feet hurt?" he asked suddenly as he noted how
bloody and bruised the blond's feet were due to the fact that the kidnapped boy
didn't wear any sort of footwear.
�� "N-nothing
serious..." Malik shifted to hide his feet under his long tunic, not
wanting to appear useless to the thief. "I've... had worse..."
�� The thief
stood and walked over to Malik, gazing down at him. "Can you walk again
after you've rested a while?" His eyes then narrowed. "And don't lie
because you're scared. I'd rather not have to remove your feet later because of
infection or have to treat a broken ankle."
�� "I... I
can..." Malik swallowed; it was the truth, he could walk. However, it was
going to be incredibly painful and slow. Still, discomfort was no excuse for
not trying. "...I... I have a high tolerance for this sort of
thing..."
�� "Alright
then..." The man sat down on the rock Malik leaned against and watched the
blond, waiting for the lavender-eyed boy to recover.
�� Malik shifted
into a sitting position, hiding his feet under his clothing. He panted, his
face very pale and the bags under his eyes even more defined, but he was
determined not to complain. Those who complained were simply in the way; and
those who were in the way, were useless and expendable.
�� The thief
continued to gaze at Malik, his eyes boring into the tired boy. He seemed to
take in each detail of the blond critically and had an expression that seemed
to be calculating something.
�� Malik wiped at
his forehead, his panting slowly easing up, before he covered his face with
both hands and let out a shuddering sigh. He hadn't slept in well over
twenty-four hours, save an occasional hour or two on the horse and in the barn.
Such fatigue, combined with stress, wasn't doing much for his state of mind.
�� Suddenly he
was surprised to feel a pair of arms wrapping around his waist before he was
picked up off the ground.
�� "Ah-!?"
Malik jerked up, eyes wide. "H-hah-!?"
�� The thief
looked calmly back at his slave as he held the blond in arms. "You're
exhausted and injured," he pointed out. "You won't be able to go any
farther on your own without sleep and treatment."
�� Malik blinked
slowly up at the thief, very confused. Why would his kidnapper show him any
kindness? Or was it simply concern that Malik wouldn't be able to perform any
of his new 'duties' like this? "I... I... I'm sorry..."
�� The man merely
grunted in response as he resumed walking down the trail, not too terribly
hindered by carrying Malik. Most likely it was because he had carried other
ill-gotten gains along the very same path before.
�� Malik hung his
head, eyes watering. He was already off on a bad foot with his new 'master'.
The thief must have already been reconsidering his offer to spare Malik's life.
�� "You
might as well go to sleep," the bandit suddenly said.
�� Malik looked
up quickly before averting his eyes. "I'm sorry... please; I'm not a
burden..."
�� "No,
you're exhausted and injured," the thief retorted.
�� "I..."
Malik blinked at that, then shivered and hugged himself. "I'll do my
best... I swear..."
�� "Of
course you will," the man said, eying the blond. "But when you're not
close to pushing yourself to death."
�� Malik closed
his eyes, shivering. "...I'll understand if you punish me... but please...
please, just give me a chance... I don't want to go back to that
village..."
�� The thief
paused as he gave the lavender-eyed boy an odd look. "Why would I punish
you?"
�� "...Because
I am weighing you down..." Malik muttered.
�� "Heh, so is my treasure and I'm not punishing it," the
bandit chuckled.
�� Malik blinked
at that, unsure of what to say. He looked up at the bandit, very much confused.
How could a man who terrified him, tormented him, kidnapped him, and plotted
his death act so much kinder than his own father?
�� The thief
smirked, apparently pleased at how he managed to make Malik stop apologizing
and begging, before he resumed walking down the path.
�� Malik blinked
again, then sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't understand it. How could
anyone show much cruelty one minute and then turn around to show even a sliver
of compassion the next? It made no sense.
�� However, the
blond wasn't able to think about it too much. As he rested in the thief's arms,
sleep slowly started to creep its way through his body. Before he knew it, he
was totally slack against his captor as he slumbered.
�� The thief
smirked.

----

�� Malik grunted,
the fog filling his senses slowly lifting as he became conscious once more. The
first thing that came to mind was the dull ache that filled his body,
particularly his feet and hands. The blond grimaced as he let out a slight
whimper before he could help it, his eyes fluttering open. The next sense to
penetrate his mind was a strange medicinal smell.
�� "...Ur?" Malik blinked
slowly, opening his eyes to...
�� Nothing.
�� "Ah?"
Malik's eyes widened, though he could barely tell. He was in complete darkness,
unable to see even the tip of his nose. The blond's breathing increased; where
was he? Was he dead? What had happened to the thief?
�� "Finally
awake I see."
�� Malik jerked
up, his heart leaping into his throat, before he whirled about towards the
sound of the voice. "AH-!?"
�� "Calm
down," came the voice from the dark. A hand, or at least what was thought
to be a hand, reached out to gently push the blond back down. "You're
going to tear the bandages doing that."
�� "B-b-bandages-?"
Malik repeated as he felt himself pushed back down. His eyes darted about,
though it was useless, as he couldn't see anything at all. "W-what...
what... bandages?"
�� There was a
soft murmur of words that Malik didn't catch due to his panic, followed by a
tingling sensation that rippled through his chest where the bandit touched it.
Suddenly there was light as torches burst to life, each burning with a bright
blue flame.
�� "Hah-!?"
Malik flinched at the sudden intrusion of light into the darkness, then blinked
repeatedly and rubbed his eyes.
�� When he was
able to see again, Malik looked around at his surroundings. He found himself
what appeared to be an impressive bedroom, one that could have played host to
the Pharaoh himself in fact. He was lying in a large and luxuriously soft bed
lined with rich silk in various vibrant colors. Various other furnishings were
also in other parts of the room, each varying in style, but very rich in
appearance. Unfortunately the luxurious feel of the room was marred by the
untidiness of it. Dirty clothes were strewn about in places, and there were
stains on some of them that Malik would have preferred not to guess the origin
of.
�� Judging from
the walls and ceiling and how they seemed to be smoothly carved from rock; the
room was most likely inside one of the caves he saw in the canyon from before.
Along every wall there were torches mounted occasionally, but they seemed to
give off more light than normal torches due to the blue flame each of them
held.
�� Malik blinked
slowly, and then turned towards the voice he had heard before in the darkness.
�� Sitting beside
him on the bed was the thief from before, who was grinning at him. Now that
Malik was well rested, the blond could have a better look at him, and found a
number of things different than the glimpses he caught in the dark and during
his exhaustion. The first thing different was that he was wearing different
clothes, ones without bloodstains, and wasn't wearing the stolen jewelry or
hood. The second most prominent thing was that the thief had pale skin, close
to the color of milk, rather than the tan color every other person in Egypt
normally had. Such a sight outright alarmed and confused Malik, as he had seen
the thief up close earlier and he was completely certain the skin had been
tanned like everyone else's. How could it suddenly be as pale as moonlight now?
�� "Ah?"
Malik blinked repeatedly, confused and a bit overwhelmed. He shifted slightly,
feeling particularly nervous as he wondered how long he had been out.
�� And that was
when Malik noticed he wasn't wearing any clothes.
�� Malik squeaked
in surprise and flushed as he found himself completely naked, save for bandages
wrapped around almost every inch of his body. Not only that, but his skin was
scrubbed clean. It felt soft and tender to the touch, devoid of the usual grime
and dirt it had clung to him in spite of the bathing he had done at the oasis
earlier. It felt good, but also a bit embarrassing; someone must have bathed
him, and he had a good suspicion of whom. The blond shivered and curled up
slightly, in an almost defensive position, as he craned his head about for any
sign of his clothes.
�� "Relax,"
the thief said, smiling in a quite amused manner. "You won't need any
clothes until you heal."
�� "I...
heal...?" Malik turned to look at the thief, his cheeks bright red.
"I... don't understand."
�� The paler man
gestured at the bandages Malik wore. "You've got injuries everywhere from
the neck down," he explained. "I'm surprised you haven't bled to
death already judging from some of them."
�� Malik glanced
at his person, and then flushed even brighter. He had always had such injuries,
as he was almost always messing up or causing his father to be angry with him,
which always resulted in the whip. Still, what was so unusual about that?
"I, uh... W-why... why would you waste bandages on me...?"
�� "Are you
planning on ripping them off or getting yourself injured again?" the thief
asked as he quirked an eyebrow.
�� "N-no, of
course not!" Malik protested, aghast. Who would dare waste such things
like that?
�� The thief
smirked, amused. "Then they're not going to be wasted."
�� "But-!"
Malik stared at the thief as if he were insane. "But to use bandages...
and MEDICINE, of all things, on ME?!"
�� "You're
my property now and I'll decide what to do with you," the bandit said
seriously as he gazed at the blond.
�� "But to
use medicines and bandages on PROPERTY...!" Malik shook his head,
completely bewildered. "Even my father never-!"
�� "I'm not
your father," the thief retorted as he eyed the bandages, checking to see
if any had been bled through.
�� "...Well,
yes... I know but..." Malik shifted. "...Wh-why
would you want to use such a thing on me when my own father...? I don't even
know your name..."
�� "Because
I understand your value a lot better than he does," the thief said
off-handedly before straightening.
�� "M-my
value...?" Malik repeated weakly, a bit dazed.
�� The thief
merely smirked.
�� Malik furrowed
his eyebrows, and then lowered his head submissively. "W-what... what am I
supposed to do for you anyway, uh... M-Master... sir?"
�� "Just
call me 'Bakura'," the thief said, still smirking.
�� "Bakura,"
Malik repeated, nodding slightly. He glanced up a bit shyly, wondering where he
stood exactly on the food chain. "What do... I do for you... Bakura?"
�� "For now,
heal," Bakura responded casually. "If I put you to work before you
heal it'll waste medicine and bandages."
�� Malik made a
face. His father would have never allowed such a thing, injuries or no.
"A-and then...?"
�� Bakura
smirked, amused at the expression on the newly made slave's face. "I'll
think of something."
�� Malik
swallowed hard, his vivid imagination already cycling through what Bakura might
'think of'. "Y-yes... sir..."
�� "Are you
hungry?" Bakura suddenly asked, changing the topic completely.
�� "Hah?"
Malik's eyes widened and, before he could stop it, his stomach growled in
affirmation. The blond squeaked and held his stomach, then flushed and silently
scolded himself. "Not... especially..."
�� Bakura made a
face then suddenly poked Malik's nose. "Don't lie," he scolded.
�� Malik squeaked
as his eyes widened, his hand going to his nose. "Eeep?"
�� The thief
couldn't help but burst out laughing.
�� Malik blinked
slowly as he wondered what the thief found so funny.
�� "Cute,"
Bakura chuckled before poking the tanned boy's nose again.
�� "Eep-!" Malik squeaked again, falling backwards.
�� Bakura
couldn't help but burst out laughing again at the fallen boy.
�� "Uh?"
Malik stared at Bakura, wondering if it was a good or bad thing that the thief
was laughing at him.
�� Finally
Bakura's laughter died down again to soft chuckles. "So what do you want
to eat?" he asked, his eyes glittering with amusement.
�� "Um...
w-what am I... allowed to eat?" Malik asked as he fumbled back up to a
sitting position. He never got anything other than bread and leftovers before
he met the thief; what his father and the servants didn't eat, he ate.
�� "What do
you feel like eating?" Bakura asked, ignoring the blond's question.
�� "...Ah?
Is... is that a rhetorical question?" Malik stared at Bakura.
�� Bakura leaned
in to gaze closely into the other boy's lavender eyes. "I mean 'what do you
want to eat so I can keep you from starving to death?'"
�� Malik gasped,
his face tinting red at how close the silver-eyed boy's face was to his own.
"I'll... I'll... take whatever you can spare..."
�� Bakura
snorted, his hot breath brushing against Malik's face before he leaned back.
"Fine, I'll just have to choose myself." With that he slipped off the
bed and left the room briskly.
�� Malik stared
after Bakura before he hugged his knees to his chest, silently scolding his
stomach for being so noisy. "...I could eat even moldy bread..."
�� A number of
long minutes passed in silence until finally Bakura returned, carrying a large
bowl in one arm and a number of filled water skins in the other.
�� "Huh?"
Malik looked up, blinking. "What's... all that?"
�� "Your
food," Bakura answered simply as he sat down, presenting the bowl to
Malik, which was surprisingly filled with a number of dried meats, fruits, and
breads.
�� "...Where...?"
Malik stared at the bowl. "This?"
�� Bakura placed
the bowl down before Malik then did the same with the water skins. "I
brought you water too. I've also got wine if you don't feel like throwing up
anymore."
�� "W-wine?"
Malik lifted his head to stare at the thief. "For ME!?"
�� Bakura
couldn't help but chuckle at the blond's reaction. "Yes, so are you going
to eat or do I have to feed you now?"
�� "I...
f-for me? Are... are you sure-!?" Malik looked from the bowl to Bakura,
eyes wide.
�� "Do I
look like I'm not?" Bakura asked as he quirked an eyebrow.
�� "I...
guess..." Malik replied before he grabbed a piece of bread and bit into
it. His eyes immediately lit up as the taste of fresh bread, not the stale or
moldy kind he usually ate, assaulted his taste buds.
�� Bakura
couldn't help but smirk as he took in the tanned boy's expression of shock and
delight. "Go ahead and eat your fill."
�� Malik needed
no more bidding, his taste buds taking control. The blond proceeded to tear at
the food in a frenzied manner, as if he were afraid it would be taken away at
any second.
�� Bakura
chuckled softly as he watched, apparently finding his slave's enthusiasm quite
entertaining.
�� Malik choked
slightly and coughed before he swallowed, then shoved an apple almost entirely
in his mouth.
�� "Slow
down," Bakura chided as he pat Malik's back carefully to help ease the
other boy's swallowing. "I'm not going to take it away from you. And drink
some water."
�� Malik paused
to stare at a water skin, then reached for it and fumbled to open it. He
quickly took a drink, and then gasped before gulping down the contents. It
would have been humorous if not for the fact that it hinted at just what kind
of meals the blond was used to.
�� "Slow
down or you'll throw up," Bakura said as he took a hold of the tanned
boy's hands and tilted the water skin upright so as to force Malik to pause
between gulps.
�� "Hah...
hah..." Malik panted for breath, then wiped at his mouth. "S-so
good...!"
�� "All the
more reason to slow down and enjoy it," Bakura chided before letting go of
the blond's hands.
�� Malik nodded
weakly as he reached for a piece of fruit and shoved it into his mouth. He
chewed at it, making very happy eating noises. The thought never crossed his
mind that it might be poisoned; but then, if it were, he wouldn't be alive to
contemplate it.
�� "Better,"
Bakura smirked as he watched his slave eat.
�� Malik licked
at his fingers, slurping, and took another drink of water before returning to
the bowl of food. He was done with well over half of its contents and obviously
intended to finish it all.
�� "Enjoying
yourself?" Bakura asked, although it was obvious that he already knew the
answer.
�� Malik nodded
vigorously as he munched, focused entirely on the food.
�� "How
often did you get fed before?" Bakura asked, curious.
�� "Mmmm..." Malik licked his fingers again. "Once a
day... and whenever I could steal leftovers from the servants."
�� "So
you're a thief too?" Bakura smirked, finding that thought amusing.
�� Malik looked
at the silver haired man, and then appeared crestfallen. "...I was just
hungry..."
�� Bakura blinked
then shook his head. "Forget it. Just eat."
�� Malik stared,
confused. "...I'm sorry?"
�� "Just
eat," Bakura repeated.
�� Malik paused,
then nodded weakly and resumed munching at the food. Pretty soon, the bowl was
completely empty save for scraps. And even then, the injured boy nibbled at
them.
�� "You must
have been starved," Bakura commented off-handedly.
�� "...I...
don't require much food," Malik muttered, evasively.
�� "Liar,"
Bakura said as he poked the blond's nose.
�� "Eeep!" Malik squeaked, jumping.
�� Bakura
chuckled.
�� "H-huh?"
Malik rubbed his nose, staring.
�� "I think
I'm going to enjoy keeping you, Malik," Bakura smirked wickedly.

----

�� "B-but
this is your bed... I can't possibly..."
�� "It's
also the best bed here, which is why you should use it until you heal,"
Bakura explained, arms crossed over his chest in a firm manner.
�� Malik slumped
his shoulders as he sat in the middle of the bed, staring up at Bakura with
wide eyes. He covered his front with his hands, which he also leaned against
for support. "But..."
�� "This
isn't up for debate," Bakura pointed out, reaching out to poke the blond's
nose for emphasis. "Get comfortable and go to sleep."
�� Malik squeaked
and reached up to cover his nose with one hand, blinking slowly.
"...W-where will you be?"
�� "In
another bedroom," Bakura answered simply.
�� "...Oh,"
Malik itched his nose. It'd make sense for there to be more than one bedroom.
"I see..."
�� Bakura glanced
around before tilting his head as he looked at his captive. "Do you need a
lit candle in here?"
�� "I...
m-maybe," Malik muttered, then paused and shook his head. He didn't want
to sound cowardly. "No."
�� "Okay
then," the thief shrugged before turning. "Good night, Malik."
�� "G-good
night, Bakura." Malik replied, uncertain.
�� Bakura said something
lowly that the tanned boy didn't understand just before disappearing from sight
only moments before all of the torches suddenly went out on their own.
�� Malik gasped,
his eyes widening as he suddenly found himself in complete and absolute
darkness. He held perfectly still, trying to give his eyes time to adjust to
the darkness. However, it seemed a lost cause, as he still couldn't see
anything, not even his own nose.
�� Malik's heart
started to pound, the silence enhancing the sound of each beat. The golden
haired boy remained perfectly still, trying to ignore the sense of fear and
horror as his body quivered. It was just the darkness; there wasn't anything to
fear, even if he couldn't see, right?
�� Unfortunately,
no matter how many times he told himself that, it didn't help.
�� Malik trembled
as he started to breathe quickly; holding his head as he slowly rocked himself.
He supposed it was silly to fear the darkness, but he couldn't help it. The
sheer terror of the unknown lurked around him, threatening him with its
presence.
�� Malik couldn't
take it anymore.
�� The young boy
slowly rocked himself, starting to hum. It was an old song his sister had sung
to him once or twice; it was both comforting and broke the silence: two things
he needed badly. The young boy hiccupped slightly as he hummed; feeling tears
well up in his eyes as he continued the melody. He hated this darkness... this
emptiness...
�� Malik didn't
know how long he sat there, humming. It seemed like an eternity, but for all he
knew it could have just been a few moments. The darkness masked everything,
including the passage of time.
�� Eventually,
the boy moved to press his forehead to his knees and trembled, his song
breaking off to a small whimper.
�� "Too
scared to sleep?"
�� Malik nearly
jumped out of his skin, letting out a small cry as he fell backwards onto the
bed.
�� Odd words were
softly muttered, vaguely familiar, before the torches suddenly relit about the
room, the instant of light nearly blinding the hapless blond.
�� Malik yelped
and covered his eyes, grimacing at the intense pain. Tears of pain mingled with
the tears already present, making it hard to determine which was which.
�� Suddenly he
felt the covers being pulled over his head to help block out the light.
�� "Are you
okay?"
�� "B-Bakura?"
Malik muttered, though he knew it must be. Who else could it be, after all?
"I... I'm okay..."
�� "Are you
sure you don't want a candle?" Bakura asked, his tone light, which almost
sounded to the blond as if he were amused.
�� "I...
I..." Malik blinked slowly, then whimpered and hugged himself.
"Maybe..." he managed to choke out before he broke down bawling. He
was such an idiot!
�� "Malik?"
Bakura asked, confused, as he removed the blanket to better see the tanned boy.
�� Malik covered
his face as he sobbed softly, unable to stop himself. He was doing that a lot
recently but he just couldn't help it! He was so tired and nothing was going
right!
�� Bakura stared
at the sobbing blond, apparently at a loss for what to do.
�� Malik's
shoulders jerked with each heavy sob, the poor distraught boy moving to roll
over onto his side so that Bakura couldn't see his tears. It was embarrassing
enough simply knowing they were there!
�� To his dismay
the thief sat down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt
to turn him back over onto his back.
�� Malik shivered
and curled up, trying to hide his face as best he can, or at least make it hard
to roll him over. "I'm sorry..."
�� "Why are
you crying?" Bakura asked as he gave up trying to force Malik to move and
squeezed the blond's shoulder gently.
�� "I... I
d-don't know... I j-just can't stop..." Malik snuffled, and then shook his
head violently. "I... I..."
�� Bakura made a
face, not that the other boy could see his expression right now. "Do you
need anything?"
�� "No...
I... I don't need anything..." Malik whimpered, then trembled and buried
his face in the bed. "I... I'm used to being alone..."
�� Bakura was
silent for a few moments before he reached out and started to stroke the
blond's hair softly, being surprisingly soothing.
�� Malik blinked
blurrily and lifted his head to stare at Bakura in confusion, tears dropping
down his cheeks.
�� "You're
not alone anymore," Bakura said softly, his gaze almost affectionate as he
reached out to wipe away the other boy's tears.
�� "I... I'm
not?" Malik asked weakly, uncertain of how to react to the thief's
tenderness. He rolled over onto his back, flinching as it aggravated his
numerous injuries, and then fumbled to sit up.
�� "No,
you're not," Bakura smiled crookedly as he helped the tanned boy up.
�� Malik looked
at Bakura, and then bowed his head. "I... I just..." How could he
explain to his master that he was afraid of the dark? How could he tell a
thief, someone who was obviously afraid of nothing, about such a childish fear?
�� "You
just...?" Bakura pressed as he started to run his fingers through the
blond's golden hair.
�� Malik closed
his eyes, enjoying the touches in his hair. Only his sister had ever touched
him so gently. "I... everything is just so strange and new... and
frightening..."
�� Bakura
continued to manipulate the lavender-eyed boy's hair and scalp softly. "I
see..."
�� Malik moved
closer to the thief unconsciously, the gentle caresses slowly working away his
tension. He couldn't help it; he was so desperate for a tender touch. "Mmmm... I... slept with the animals, so I..."
�� Bakura made a
face at that. "You said something like that earlier, too... You really
slept with animals?"
�� "Well,
yes." Malik looked up, blinking. "Where else would I sleep?"
�� "You
weren't even given your own room?" Bakura asked, frowning.
�� "Whenever
my sister visited, yes," Malik nodded slowly. "But I was back in the
barn as soon as she left."
�� "Why?"
Bakura asked curiously, although he didn't seem at all pleased.
�� "Because
of the crime of my birth." Malik replied, as if reciting something he
heard many times.
�� "The
crime of your birth?" Bakura asked, obviously not believing that
statement.
�� "I killed
my mother while she gave birth to me," came the automatic response.
�� Bakura was
silent for a few moments, a frown on his face. "You're getting blamed for
something that wasn't your fault?"
�� "If I
hadn't been born, she wouldn't have died."
�� Bakura's gaze
flattened. "And if you hadn't been born I wouldn't have you here."
�� Malik blinked
at that and looked at his master. "...Yes... that's true."
�� "Good,
you agree," Bakura grinned as he started to play with the blond's hair
again.
�� Malik tilted
his head and peered at Bakura, oddly. "You... care?"
�� Bakura
returned the odd look with one of his. "You didn't notice?"
�� "I... I
wouldn't know what to look for in order TO notice," Malik muttered,
feeling embarrassed.
�� "Just
think about how I've treated you since I decided to keep you," Bakura
suggested as he continued to stroke the other boy's hair, lightly tickling the
back of Malik's neck.
�� "T-that's
true," Malik admitted, nodding slowly. It was rare for someone to be nice
to him. But then, Bakura could've just been worried about his property.
�� "You
should try and get some sleep," the thief grinned. "I can leave the
torches lit or get a candle for you if you want."
�� "M-maybe
a candle...?" Malik muttered. "I... I don't want to keep you awake
too."
�� "I can
see in the dark just as well as I can in the light," Bakura explained with
a shrug. "It doesn't bother me either way."
�� "Oh,"
Malik felt particularly stupid; of course the thief wasn't bothered by the
dark. The blond lowered his gaze to the bed, gripping his knees tightly. He
must have seemed like such a child.
�� "You
don't have to be scared here," Bakura pointed out. "I'm the only one
who lives here and it's perfectly safe."
�� "I
suppose," Malik grunted. "But a lot good that does when you're in
pitch darkness!" he added, mentally. He shifted and moved to curl up on
the bed, rolling onto his side. He stared at the wall, eyes half lidded.
"...I guess... it's just..." he mumbled aloud, only to trail off.
�� "Just
what?" Bakura asked curiously as he tilted his head slightly, leaning over
the tanned boy.
�� "I've...
never slept by myself before," Malik muttered. "I'd always have the
animals... or my sister would sleep with me when she visited..."
�� "Do you
want me to sleep with you?" Bakura asked as a distinctly mischievous grin
appeared on his face.
�� "I... if
you want to," Malik whispered, glancing at the thief. He wanted the
company, but the silver-eyed man could do all sorts of things to him while he
slept. Still, he supposed his master would have done them anyway without the
excuse of him being asleep.
�� "Well,
this is the most comfortable bed," Bakura smiled wryly.
�� "Oh...
okay..." Malik moved over to make room for the thief, trying not to blush.
He wondered if that was Bakura's ONLY reason for wanting to be in the bed.
�� However, the
bandit didn't immediately go to the bed. Instead he went over to a box in the
corner that seemed to contain things that were most likely stolen, as some of
it looked as if it were made of gold. After a moment Bakura removed a candle
fitted on a gold stand from the box, and carried it over to a small table near
the bed before lighting it. However, the odd thing was that he muttered
something before lighting it rather than using flint or some other normal
method to light fires.
�� "How did
you...?" Malik muttered, moving closer to see.
�� Bakura sat
down on the bed next to the blond and tilted his head slightly. "You haven't
figured it out by now?"
�� "Is
that... magic?" Malik looked at the thief, curiously.
�� "Of
course it is," Bakura answered with an odd expression on his face.
�� "It
didn't... explode." Malik frowned and peered at the candle.
�� Bakura blinked
then burst out laughing. "It would've if I didn't know what I was
doing."
�� "Oh."
Malik tilted his head and moved to poke lightly at the candle. "Well, I
guess it's good you know what you're doing!"
�� Once Bakura's
laughter died down he looked at the other boy curiously. "Have you ever
heard of those with sorcerers' blood?"
�� "Some
things," Malik admitted. "Like about magic powers and bathe in the
blood of innocents."
�� Bakura made a
face at that, but didn't seem surprised. "Is that all?"
�� "If there
was, I forgot it," Malik replied, shrugging. "I... never really paid
attention, as I was generally cleaning at the time."
�� "I
see..." Bakura gazed at the blond in an odd manner. "Do you believe
what you've heard?"
�� "Maybe,
maybe not," Malik looked at Bakura. "But... father said the same
thing about me... so doesn't that make me one, too?"
�� The thief
blinked then smirked. "Maybe, maybe not."
�� Malik made a
face at that, and then moved to curl up on the bed again. "...Are you
one?"
�� "Yes."
�� "Then I
guess it means it wasn't true." Malik grunted as he snuggled up into the
bed. "I'm still breathing and you didn't suck my blood out."
�� Bakura blinked
at that before he burst out laughing.
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Yu-Gi-Oh!: Aurora