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Yu-Gi-Oh!: Aurora	By : NeonTiger Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 12203 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Aurora

By Neon Tiger and
Yuki Ryu

Chapter Six

----

�� Malik groaned
as he slowly opened his eyes, his head still spinning in circles around him. He
had been so embarrassed, so overwhelmed and flustered - he must have passed out
without realizing it.
�� Darkness
greeted Malik, much like the other times he woke up. As he slowly became more
awake, he grew increasingly aware that he was laying on the silk sheets of the
bed he and Bakura shared, and that a warm body was spooned up against his back.
�� "Uhn...?" Malik blinked slowly. He made to roll over
slightly, only to find such an action proved to be a big mistake. He let out a
soft cry as he felt as though the entire room just flipped upside-down. "Wah-!"
�� "Malik?"
came Bakura's concerned voice. "Are you okay?"
�� "B-Bakura?"
Malik squeaked, then whimpered as he reached out, feeling for something to hold
onto. "I... the room is spinning..."
�� Much to the
blond's relief, his master took his hand gently. "It's okay... just relax
and don't move," Bakura said in a soothing tone.
�� Malik gripped
the thief's hand tightly, feeling relieved as it brought him some sense of
balance. "I just... got so dizzy... I must have fainted..."
�� "You
did," Bakura confirmed as he laced his fingers with the other boy's.
"You've been out for a few hours."
�� "Hours?"
Malik blinked at that. A few minutes he could understand, but hours? Passing
out from embarrassment for hours was
worse than the embarrassment itself! "I... I'm sorry. I... didn't mean
to..."
�� "Don't
worry about it." Bakura began to run his fingers gently through the
blond's hair with his free hand. "Just relax."
�� "Is it...
normal for people to pass out like that...?" Malik asked, gripping
Bakura's hand tightly. He leaned slightly into the thief's touch, glancing in
the general direction he thought the bandit's face might be.
�� "Not
really," Bakura admitted truthfully. "But don't worry about it. It
happens sometimes when something is too much for you to handle."
�� "Oh..."
Malik had to admit that made sense. The entire conversation had been moving too
fast; it was too much for him and he had wanted it over as quickly as possible.
He just never considered fainting to do that.
�� "You can
go back to sleep if you want."
�� Malik made a
face at that, and then moved to roll over. Unfortunately, his balance had still
not returned so he found himself falling on top of Bakura. "Wah-!"
�� "Careful!"
the thief yelped as he quickly caught the other boy and cradled his slave
carefully in his arms. "You need to stay still."
�� Malik made a
noise as he rested against the thief, thankful for the warm body against his.
It gave him an anchor, proving to him that the room was, in fact, not spinning.
"Tell the room to stay still!"
�� Bakura
couldn't help but chuckle softly, tickling the blond's ear. "Only if you
stay still too."
�� Malik made a
slight noise in response, and then sighed. He pressed his forehead to Bakura's
chest, closing his eyes as he struggled to relax. He felt warm and safe like
this, curled up against his master. Perhaps a bit too warm, but heat was
nothing new in a desert.
�� Suddenly he
felt Bakura's hand remove itself from his own before he was moved away from the
thief's chest. Before he could protest or express his confusion, he felt what
was apparently Bakura's forehead pressed against his own.
�� "You're
burning up," Bakura said after a moment, his voice sounding concerned once
more.
�� "Ah...?"
Malik blinked slowly, and then made a face. "I'm just... a little warm...
that's all. It's a desert... hard not to be warm..."
�� "No, you
have a fever," Bakura said as he carefully moved the other boy in his arms
to a more comfortable position, taking care to move slowly so that Malik
wouldn't get dizzy again. "I think your wounds have made you sick."
�� "A
fever...?" Malik repeated, his voice sounding faint - even to him. He had
gotten a fever before, so he knew what it was like; it was back during the
first days of his life as a slave when his sister had gone to work at the
temple. His father had been very cruel then, beating him daily. After Malik had
gotten sick and nearly died, his father made sure it never happened again.
�� Though, not
for any concern for Malik. Malik's sickness had drawn too much attention to
him. Even Isis had found out about it and came
home, nursing the boy back to health. "No good... that's no good..."
�� "Calm
down," Bakura said, trying to sound soothing. "It'll be okay. You
just need to rest." He began running his fingers gently through the
blond's hair. "Do you need anything? Some water maybe?"
�� "No
more... water..." Malik muttered. He had more than enough experiences with
water for one day. "So tired... spinning..."
�� Bakura made a
soft shushing sound as he held the other boy closer to his body in an attempt
to help Malik's dizziness. "Just sleep then."
�� Malik murmured
in response as he cuddled against his master, sighing. He was quickly getting
used to feeling someone pressed up against him due to how the silver haired boy
would cuddle him every night so he didn't really think much of it anymore.
�� The sound of
Bakura singing softly and soothingly to him also served to help relax him.
�� At that,
Malik's eyes opened slightly. Bakura was singing again, so soft and quiet. He
didn't recognize the song, save for the fact that it was the same song the
silver-eyed boy had sung to him a number of nights before, but that didn't
matter. It made him feel better.
�� Malik's eyes
closed again as he listened to the thief, letting the song lull his senses into
a blissful state. It made him forget how warm he felt as well as how the room
wouldn't stop spinning. It made him forget many things, settling into a quiet
state of rest.
�� Bakura let out
a soft sigh as Malik drifted off to sleep, ending his song. Despite the
darkness he could easily see how flushed the other boy's face was, as well as
how sickly the blond appeared.
�� As the thief
carefully slipped out of the tanned boy's arms and crept silently for the
medicine, he couldn't help but hope that the other boy would recover quickly.
�� Even with
advanced sorcerer medicine, sickness was still dangerous, especially in a
desert.

----

�� Pain. Sharp, burning pain coursed through
him in unimaginable ways. So hot, tearing, and searing.
�� "Hold still."
�� Malik let out a strangled noise as he squirmed,
yet found he couldn't move his body. He felt as if he were bound all over. The
slave barely had a chance to cry out before another wave of pain seared through
him, coming directly from his back.
�� "You DON'T want me to make a
mistake."
�� Slowly, so slowly, the flaming knife
dragged along his back, burning his flesh as it was sliced open with a casual
calmness akin to someone serving dinner.
�� Malik screamed, though it sounded muffled
for some reason, as his eyes watered. The burning increased, coursing through
his veins as it felt as if his very blood was liquid fire.
�� "This is your fate. Surrender to
it!"
�� Malik wailed, tears streaming down his
cheeks as he thrashed as best he could. "Help me! Someone, help me!"
�� "Knock it off!"
�� "Y-YAH-!?" Malik cried out in
surprise at the sudden familiar voice, his eyes bugging out as all at once the
burning stopped. Gasping, Malik jerked about to find himself standing in an
alley, staring face to face with Bakura. Oddly enough, the thief was wearing a
white and blue striped shirt, a light teal jacket, and blue-gray jeans.
"Bakura-!?"
�� Bakura smiled in an almost sinister manner
as he held the knife casually in his hand. The blade glowed red-hot as smoke
and the scent of burning flesh slowly dissipated from it. "What's a little
sacrifice?" he asked with a note of amusement in his voice.
�� Without warning the thief suddenly slashed
open his own left arm.
�� "Bakura, don't-!" Malik gaped,
horrified. "What are you doing!?"
�� Instead of blood, a thick black substance
that resembled something close to tar dribbled out from the wound, staining
Bakura's flesh a sickly purple as it made its way downwards. "It's all a
game isn't it?" Bakura asked as he removed his jacket so that he could use
the parts of it that the blackness didn't already dissolve to wipe the blade
clean. The fact that the flow seemed only to be increasing and that his body
appeared poisoned wherever the tar-like fluid touched didn't seem to bother him
at all. "One sacrifice. Two. Three. 99? 101?"
�� "B-Bakura... what's... what's
happening...? What's that...?" Malik stepped back, staring as the black
substance spouted out, splattering across the ground and staining it.
�� Bakura tossed his jacket as it dissolved
into nothing. The blackness covered his arm completely as it flowed like a
miniature waterfall to the ground. "Forever and ever," he said smugly
as he smirked at the blond. "The graveyard or removed from play with no
card." His grin became quite vicious, almost demented, as the black substance
formed into a large pool at his feet. "My deck is a few cards short."
�� Suddenly a giant clawed arm lashed out
from the black "blood" to snatch Malik within its massive grip.
�� Malik let out a startled scream as he was
grabbed, then squirmed and kicked at the hand. He let out a sharp cry before he
was yanked into the puddle by the massive claw.
�� Malik squealed as he tumbled across the
ground, crying out as he suddenly slammed to a stop. He laid there, dazed, in
darkness, not sure of what was going on around him.
�� "Ack!
Stupid cat!
�� Suddenly there was light and Malik looked
up to find Bakura lying on a sofa in a room he didn't recognize. The thief wore
a t-shirt and jeans like before in the alley, but he held no knife or cut.
Instead there was a small tabby kitten sitting on the silver haired boy's chest
as he lay on the sofa, apparently having been trying to take a nap.
�� Malik blinked and rubbed the back of his
head, then quickly fumbled to his feet. "Bakura...?"
�� Bakura glanced at Malik before his gaze
returned to the kitten on his chest. "I swear, every time I want some
peace this fur-ball comes to yowl in my face," he huffed,
uncharacteristically sulky.
�� The kitten purred softly, curling up
slightly as if getting ready to go to sleep. It sleepily licked at one of its
tiny paws, fluffing up happily.
�� Suddenly the kitten had striped wings,
making it look like a dragon. It meowed adorably, showing off row after row of
razor sharp teeth, before it licked the silver-eyed boy's nose.
�� Bakura blinked then grunted and wiped his
nose. "Stop doing that!" he protested, apparently not noticing the
kitten's change in appearance.
�� Malik gawked, his jaw dropping. He stared
in disbelief at the mutated kitten, though he was even more bewildered by the
fact that Bakura didn't seem to notice.
�� Bakura looked at Malik accusingly.
"What?" he asked, irritated. "Are you going to laugh
again?"
�� "The... cat... it's... it's
not...!" Malik stuttered, pointing at the no-longer-feline.
�� Without waiting for an answer Bakura
picked up the mutant kitten by the scruff of the neck and placed it on the back
of the sofa before he got up onto his feet. "You know what I think about
that," he said, despite the fact that the statement made no sense.
"Let's go." He then walked past the other boy.
�� "What do you think about what?"
Malik blinked in confusion. What was the thief talking about? "Where are
we going?"
�� "Why are you looking for him?" a
tiny voice asked, causing Malik to glance around before staring in disbelief at
the kitten. The tiny dragon-feline licked its lips, and then grinned.
"He's dead. Just let it go."
�� "Let it go-!? What are you talking
about!?" Malik demanded, growing agitated.
�� "Are you coming or not?" Bakura
asked, drawing Malik's attention back towards him. Oddly enough he was now
dressed in an oversized black trench coat that twisted and curled sharply at
the edges, giving a rather eerie appearance to the thief. However, this was
offset by the fact that Bakura now suddenly sported a pair of large mismatched
rabbit ears on his head; one brown, the other silver, just like his eyes were
now. He sat in an exceedingly large unusually shaped chair in front of a small
round table. On top of the pink and white-checkered tablecloth was a mismatched
tea set.
�� "...Bakura?" Malik quirked an
eyebrow, trying to resist the urge to crack a grin at the thief's new attire.
"What's with the rabbit ears? Grew tired of just having rabbit spikes in
your hair?"
�� "You're one to talk," Bakura
calmly retorted as he pointed casually at the blond. He then picked up the cup
of hot tea in front of him and took a sip.
�� "Uh..." Malik blinked before
making a face. "What's that supposed to-!" All at once, the tanned
boy gave a start and gawked at his clothing. He wore a rather ridiculous old
suit with an extremely high color. Blinking repeatedly, Malik felt up on the
top of his head and gave a cry as he felt a massive top hat resting there.
�� "Should we have an unbirthday party or a deathday
party?" Bakura asked, acting as if he didn't notice how surreal things
were, or he simply didn't care. "We don't have enough candles either
way."
�� "What're you babbling about!?"
Malik grunted as he proceeded to yank off the top hat before peering down into
it.
�� "CHUUUU!" came a high pitched
cry as a tiny jackal head popped out of the hat, beaming up at Malik with a
toothy grin. He had one bright blue eye, while his right eye was without a
pupil. He wore the most bizarre outfit, of red silk with white trim decorated
with golden runes. The tiny jackal wiggled his ears, which fit snuggly around
his golden headdress before fanning his tiny golden wings.
�� "WHAT THE-!" Malik jumped
backwards, dropping the hat.
�� The tiny jackal squawked as the hat was
dropped (and him with it). The top hat hit the ground, then twirled about as
the tiny jackal disappeared into it with a startled "Chuu!?".
�� "You know, deathday
parties aren't much fun."
�� "E-eh?" Malik looked up, more
than a little rattled by the hat incident. "What...?"
�� Unfortunately Bakura was gone. In fact,
everything was gone, leaving Malik with nothing but darkness.
�� Malik jumped, and then whipped around.
"Bakura? BAKURA! Where did you go!?"
�� "I guess you're right," came
Bakura's voice from the darkness. "I shouldn't have listened."
�� Suddenly from out of the darkness Malik
spotted a disturbingly familiar glowing golden eye.
�� Malik stopped short and turned to stare at
the golden eye, his own eyes widening drastically. "Bakura...?" he
breathed, as if he were afraid to be heard.
�� The eye appeared to move closer, and soon
enough the blond could see what it was attached to.
�� Bakura emerged from the darkness, still
wearing the twisted trench coat, but he no longer had his rabbit ears or his
shirt. On his chest was a carving of the Millennium Ring, which matched the
scars on Malik's back; save they seemed much deeper, almost like cracks. The
mark of the Millennium Item's eye glowed brilliantly on his chest, exactly
where it rested on the real Millennium Item.
�� "Too late now, I guess," Bakura
said impassively, as if he no longer cared about much of anything. He stood
with his hands in his pockets and shrugged a little.
�� "What's too late...?" Malik
found himself asking, his stomach clenching.
�� Bakura looked as if he was about to answer
when he jerked slightly, his eyes widening as his pupils shrank to dots. He
threw his head back and let out a strangled scream, as his body seemed to split
open right at the mark on chest. From the split a giant black dragon head
emerged and seemed to pull the thief into it as it grew in size.
�� Malik stared in horror, his entire body
trembling. He felt as if the very breath had been taken from his body, robbing
him of speech and leaving nothing but a feeling of dread form like icicles
inside of him.
�� Nothing less than the ultimate evil loomed
before him. The darkness clung to it like a shroud; its body may have been
nothing but darkness. The only thing that clearly stood out any more was its
giant blood red eyes, which gazed down upon him hungrily, and the rows of giant
white gleaming teeth that more resembled spikes than anything else.
�� Malik trembled as he slowly shook his
head, stepping back slightly as he struggled to gather his voice. "N... nn... n..." His eyes widened, as the creature loomed
closer, opening its maw wide to reveal a gaping hole lined with teeth.
"No... no...!" Malik squeaked as the monster leaned forward before
diving at him with a snarl. The young boy let out a cry as he scrambled
backwards, his eyes wide as saucers as the monster descended upon him.
�� "NO!" Malik screamed as he sat up,
his skin slick with sweat. "NO! BAKURA-!"
�� "It's
okay, Malik," Bakura said as he reached out to gently take a hold of the
blond and pulled the other boy close to his body to assure Malik that he was
there. "I'm right here. You were having a nightmare. Calm down."
�� Malik trembled
as he clung to the thief, gasping for breath as he stared at nothing. The young
slave's hair clung to his sweaty brow, his skin unnaturally pinked from the
heat of his own body, as he whimpered. "No... no... Bakura... don't
go..."
�� "I'm
here, Malik," Bakura said soothingly into the feverish boy's ear.
"I'm right here." He began running his fingers through the blond's
hair in an effort to soothe the other boy. "I'm not going anywhere."
�� Malik gulped down
air as he clung to Bakura, his trembling easing only slightly as his eyes
started to droop. The slave let out a soft whine as he leaned against his
master before settling down once more.
�� Bakura
couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of relief as he watched his slave drift
back to sleep. Malik had been sick for well over a day now and his fever had
yet to break, despite the medicine the thief used on him. This troubled Bakura
greatly. If the other boy didn't get better soon, he wasn't sure what he'd do.
�� Malik moaned
and shifted slightly, once again caught in his disturbing fever dream. He let
out a soft whimper, gripping Bakura's arm in a clammy vice grip.
�� Bakura let out
another sigh as he rubbed the sick boy's back soothingly. He paused as he
noticed the damp washcloth had fallen off of Malik's head and picked it up,
dipping it in the bowl of water on the small table beside the bed before
placing it back across the blond's forehead. All he could do right now was wait
until Malik's fever broke or it was time to give the other boy more fever
medicine; whichever came first.
�� Malik
whimpered as he felt the washcloth touch his forehead, flinching slightly
before going still. He gave a heavy sigh, his body shaking at the effort. He
looked so pale, so sickly... it was as if he were wasting away.
�� "Malik..."
Bakura couldn't help but whisper softly as he took in every detail of the other
boy's sickly form. He took the washcloth again and gently dabbed it across the
blond's face all over in an effort to bring more relief to his slave. "You
have to start getting better, Malik..."
�� Malik's only
response was his labored breathing.
�� After soaking
the washcloth again in water and then replacing it on the blond's forehead,
Bakura let out a weary sigh. The past day had been one of the most stressful
that he had ever known. Only very few incidents in his past could top what he
was experiencing right now, and those always involved death.
�� The thought
created an icy tightness in the pit of Bakura's stomach. "No, Malik is not going to die," he hissed though
his teeth, trying to assure himself of that fact. He would never allow his
companion to die; even if he had to he'd swallow his pride and take Malik to a
doctor in the Pharaoh's city. The main thing that prevented him from doing so
already was that he was certain that his medicine was better than anything the
doctor could have had. Sorcerer medicine was the best after all.
�� "No...
no... don't let him... get me... Bakura..." Malik whimpered, interrupting
the thief's thoughts. "Help me..."
�� Bakura's
attention immediately returned to the other boy and he pulled the feverish
blond closer. "It's okay, Malik," he whispered in the tanned boy's
ear soothingly. "No one's ever going to take you from me."
�� Malik murmured
something incomprehensible as he cuddled up against the thief, seeking his
warmth despite the overwhelming heat his body held.
�� Bakura felt
some small amount of relief as he felt his slave relax against him before lying
still once more. "No one's taking you away from me, Malik," he
whispered. "Not your father, not death, or even the gods themselves."
�� Malik shivered
in response, though he didn't hear or truly understand what was being told to
him, and buried his face in Bakura's chest.
�� At the quiet
declaration the thief had to pause for a moment to think about what he had just
said. In spite of other concerns weighing heavily on his mind, he couldn't help
but quietly marvel at himself and how attached he had gotten to Malik in such a
short period of time. When he was a child he swore to never become close to
anyone again, yet he now found that he had broken that promise with Malik.
�� Somehow,
someway, the timid, weak, yet lovable slave had slipped past all of Bakura's
defenses. Even though they had only known each other for not so many days, the
thief couldn't picture his life without the other boy in it. It was surprising,
as well as frightening, considering the reason Bakura dared not get close to
anyone was that the gods and destiny seemed to conspire to remove everyone of
importance from his life.
�� Unfortunately
it seemed to be the case again now with Malik's terrible fever. There was a
very real possibility that the tanned boy could die from it, and that
possibility terrified Bakura in spite of himself.
�� "You're
not going to take him away from me too," the thief thought as he clutched
his slave a little closer. "I'm not going to let you take Malik
away." He glared up at the ceiling, as if he could see through the
darkness and stone to the gods themselves up above. "Do you hear me?"
he hissed aloud. "You're not taking Malik! He's mine!"
�� Maybe it was
the fact that he had cursed Anubis' statue that had caused this to happen, as
Malik had been perfectly alright up until then; save for the blond's numerous
injuries at least. At the thought of all the wounds covering the tanned boy's
body, Bakura had to count them both lucky that Malik merely had gotten sick
rather than had his wounds infected.
�� At that
thought Bakura decided that now might be a good time to change the blond's bandages.
He then paused as he noticed something: Malik wasn't shaking anymore.
�� "Malik?"
Bakura whispered tentatively, uncertain of whether this was a good or bad sign.
�� Malik
slumbered, breathing peacefully as he cuddled against Bakura. His face was no
longer twisted in pain, nor was his skin burning to the touch. The sweat still
remained, but he looked very peaceful - and definitely alive.
�� Bakura stared
at the other boy before he moved to touch his forehead to the tanned boy's. At
noting how cool it felt verses before he sighed audibly then practically
collapsed against the bed with relief, a smile on his face.
�� Malik's fever
had finally broken.
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Yu-Gi-Oh!: Aurora