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The Clothes Make The Spirit	By : Amarin Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Het - Male/Female Views: 5978 -:- 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
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Warring Lovers
***
Today�s poem is brought to you by whiterose934, her review of Chapter 42. The last line has been altered slightly to fit this fandom better.
***

Roses are red,
violets are blue.
Ra made me pretty,
what in the name of the Shadows happened to you?!
�But violets are purple!� Marik argued with the handmade magnet in his hands. �And those roses that Sister Isis grows on the balcony are white. Except for that bush of yellow ones, the ones with the pink edges on their petals.�
Shaking his head at the odd focus of his koi�s irritation � didn�t Marik realize he�d been insulted, for Ra�s sake? � Malik said, giving the first explanation he could think of (and consequently lying through his teeth as a result), �It�s a very old rhyme, Marik. It was written for Valentine�s Day � y�know, that holiday you really like �cause everyone gets candy?�
Marik nodded vigorously. �And then on White Day you give candy back to the person who gave you candy.�
Malik nodded tiredly. Marik�s sweet tooth was infamous in Domino City. There was a reason he�d bought stock in the Godiva chocolate company. Stock which was doing remarkably well for Japan, where the greater proportion of the populous normally bought pocky when they wanted a sugar rush. �Right. Anyway, this rhyme was invented back in a time with people didn�t have as good a color sense as they do today. They thought violets were blue, and while roses did come in lots of colors, this was a romantic rhyme, and red roses symbolize passion.� The color sense part of the argument was completely false, but the rest was the truth. And who knew, maybe people really had thought violets were blue hundreds of years before.
They�d thought the Black Plague was the work of witches, after all.
�Well�all right,� Marik gave in grudgingly. His eyes flashed with anger and he demanded, �Now that that�s out of the way�who in the world would invite a slow and painful death by sending me this�offensive poem?!�
Malik blinked. Well, maybe Marik wasn�t as oblivious as he�d thought�
And he was still as bloodthirsty as ever.
And here I thought he was losing his edge, Malik thought. Smirking, he said, �Well, now, koi, I�m not sure. Why don�t we just prank everybody, that way we�d be sure to get whoever it was?�
Frowning slightly, Marik asked, �But what about the innocent victims that we�ll inevitably get?�
Malik looked at him disbelievingly. Or maybe he is losing his edge. �Who cares?� he asked.
�Sister Isis?� Marik half-asked.
Malik gulped. Ooohh� Hadn�t thought of that. �Good point.�
�But then again, all�s fair in love and war,� Marik said, doing a conversational U-turn.
�True,� Malik agreed.
�And this poem is the love,� Marik continued, holding up the dreaded magnet. �So��
�This means war!� they declared in harmonic glee.
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The Clothes Make The Spirit