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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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Aurora

By Neon Tiger and
Yuki Ryu

Chapter Seven

----

�� "But
Bakura..."
�� "No!
You're still staying in bed!"
�� "But..."
Malik whined as he sat on the bed, slumping his shoulders.
�� "You still have a fever!" Bakura stated as
he crossed his arms over his chest. He stood beside the bed, looking down
sternly at the other boy, determined not to let his slave win the argument.
�� "But I
don't feel that bad anymore..."
Malik huffed. Ever since Bakura had realized the boy had a fever, Malik found
himself completely bedridden, even after the fever had broken and his
temperature was merely a little higher than normal. The thief wouldn't even let
him get up to go to the bathroom, instead carrying him wherever he needed to go
somewhere. After a few days of this, the poor slave was more than a little
tired of bed rest. "Can't I get up, for just a little while?"
�� "Not
until your fever is completely
gone," Bakura stated firmly. "If you exhaust yourself or get dizzy
and faint again, you could relapse and get worse!"
�� "Buuuuut..." Malik pouted, jutting out his lower lip.
�� "Don't
give me that look!" Bakura snapped before letting out a huff. "I'm not going to give in. Your fever's
almost gone and your wounds are almost healed, so you won't be in bed any
longer than another day or two, so wait
a little longer."
�� "But I'm
tired of waiting!" Malik complained. "I'm tired of waiting, tired of
resting, tired of sleeping! Any longer and I may forget how to walk!"
�� Bakura
couldn't help but roll his eyes at how overdramatic the other boy was being.
"No you won't."
�� Malik huffed
and continued to pout, jutting out his lower lip sulkily.
�� Bakura met the
blond's pouting gaze steadily, his cheek twitching slightly, before he finally
turned away. "I said NO and that's
the end of this discussion!" he declared.
�� Malik groaned
and flopped back against the bed, flailing his arms. "BUT-!
BAKURAAAAAAAA-!"
�� Bakura
immediately whirled around as he heard the blond's limbs impacting against the
bed. "Stop that!" he snapped as he strode over to the bed.
"Don't make me tie you down so you can't move!"
�� Malik
immediately stopped, jumping slightly at his master's tone. He peered up to
blink at Bakura, and then grunted. "But what else can I do...? You try
sitting still for days!"
�� Bakura leaned
in close, speaking in a short but authoritative manner. "I have, and it's
insanely frustrating, but you have to or you won't get better."
�� Malik squeaked
as he found himself face to face with Bakura. He blinked slowly, and then
whined as he found the thief's gaze difficult to hold. "Fine,
fine..."
�� Bakura let out
a sigh of relief in spite of himself as he straightened. "Good. Now wait
here and I'll bring you some breakfast. What would you like to eat?"
�� "Anything,"
Malik replied, sighing wearily. "It's not like I need to eat to keep up my
energy!"
�� "Fine,"
Bakura huffed as he put his hands on his hips. "Just as long as you stay in bed, you can act like a brat all
you want to." With that he turned sharply on his heel and strode out the
door.
�� "I'm not
a brat," Malik pouted, though he kept his voice low so Bakura couldn't
hear him. "You're the brat."
�� There was no
response, as the thief had already left.
�� Malik peered
up from the bed to eye the door. He hadn't really wanted a response, or for Bakura
to even know what he said. The thief would only have argued with him.
�� "Nnngh," Malik flopped against the bed again, sighing.
"This is too much... A break's nice but this is ridiculous..."
�� He appreciated
Bakura caring about him, but there came a point and time when enough was
enough. After all, wouldn't Malik know what he could and could not do? It was
his body, after all.
�� And right now
his body was telling him he needed to go to the bathroom.
�� "Oh, what
do you know?" Malik grunted. However, he knew far better than to argue
with that signal from his body, no
matter how bratty he felt like being.
�� Slowly, the
slave crawled out of bed before hurrying to the door leading to the restroom,
closing the door behind him.
�� After a few
minutes, Malik ventured back outside. He sighed and leaned against the wall,
then blinked. He glanced down at his body, noticing that he wasn't shaking or
feeling nearly as dizzy as before. In fact, he felt just fine.
�� "...That
wasn't so bad," Malik made a face, and then snorted. "I'm fine... I
don't need to be bedridden anymore!" The slave paused before glancing over
to the bowl by the bed that held his washcloth, noticing how dry it was.
"...In fact, I'm more than capable."
�� With a grin,
Malik moved over to the bed and proceeded to scoop up the washcloth and bowl,
then strode towards the door. He knew he could just as easily get clean water
from the strange contraptions in the restroom, but his legs were begging for a
chance to walk more than a few steps. He hesitated a moment before opening it,
peering into the hallway for any sign of Bakura. Once he was certain the thief
wasn't around, the young slave marched purposely out the door and down the
hallway in front of him.
�� The slave walked
along the hallway, feeling much more confident in his stance that he was
perfectly fine. And by getting his own washcloth, he would prove that to
Bakura. Even his master couldn't deny that the slave was capable enough to
maneuver around the cave without assistance.
�� Unfortunately
for Malik, he was too busy crowing about his moral victory to realize he had
absolutely no idea where he was going.
�� Bakura had
always carried him around, ever since he got there. His only real adventures on
his own had been his discovery of the altar and when he snuck outside the cave.
Even when he had been carried around, his face was mostly buried in the thief's
back.
�� This fact was
soon readily apparent when the slave turned a few corners and found himself in
an area he didn't know, standing in a room he didn't recognize.
�� "Er..." Malik blinked, clutching the washcloth bowl.
"Um... where am I?"
�� At first Malik
could have sworn that he had somehow wandered outside without leaving through
the cave entrance, but he was quick to realize that was not really the case. He
was inside the most massive room he had seen yet. The walls and ceiling
stretched out wide in all directions, and due to the fact that they were
painted rather realistically to look like land and sky, it made it hard to tell
how massive the room really was. However, the size and design of the room could
hardly take away from what it contained.
�� This new area
enclosed more green plants and fresh flowing water than Malik had seen in his
in entire life. It was a large and lush green paradise with numerous rivers
flowing through it that put the oasis he had visited with Bakura to shame. The
only thing that took away from the beauty of the massive underground garden was
the fact that nearly all the plants were overrun. Only a small patch of plants
close to the wide stone path along the edge of the room seemed to have been
tended to.
�� "I didn't
know he had a garden!" Malik
gaped, turning his head to soak in the sight. The slave paused to eye the weeds
and ill-cared plants. "Or rather... he has a garden... somewhere in
here."
�� Slowly, Malik
walked along the path into the room, taking care not to step on anything as he
headed towards the only area that looked mildly tended to.
�� Almost
immediately, Malik recognized the plants as medicinal - and highly pruned at
that. He knew what medicinal plants looked like, thanks to his sister. Isis had also learned a lot about plants and, before
moving to the temple, would often talk to him about them. "So this is what
Bakura makes his medicine with..."
�� The slave
kneeled down and reached out to feel one of the leaves, then grimaced. "A
bit dry, too... he should water them more..." All at once, it hit Malik
like a ton of bricks. He stopped to gawk at the plants, blinking repeatedly. He
knew a lot about plants, so why couldn't he help Bakura tend to the garden?
�� It'd
definitely pay his master back, especially since most of the plants were being
used to tend to his injuries.
�� And there was
certainly a lot of work that needed
to be done...
�� Malik grinned
brightly before setting to work, completely forgetting his washcloth for the
moment as he set about tending to the garden. As a first order of business, he
proceeded to pull up the weeds and put them in a pile to be disposed of. He
could easily tell which plants were weeds and which weren't, thanks to his
sister, and soon had a good portion of the garden weeded.
�� Malik rubbed
his nose, accidentally smearing dirt along it as his hands were covered in
dirt. He then knelt down and proceeded to tug at a particularly stubborn weed,
grunting. "Deep rooted, aren't you? Well, I'm not giving up so you may as
well come along quietly..."
�� Malik
continued to tug on the weed until he finally managed to get it up, then
grinned victoriously at it. He hesitated and tilted his head, glancing towards
the doorway of the garden when he thought he heard a noise. He waited silently,
before giving a shrug when the sound didn't repeat itself.
�� With a huff,
Malik tossed the weed over his shoulder and proceeded to continue tending to
the garden.
�� The garden was
coming along quite well as Malik worked diligently, though the slave was
becoming absolutely filthy in the process.
�� He didn't
notice it at first over the sound of the flowing water and the noises that he
was making working on the garden, but after a while the blond was certain that
he could hear a rhythmic tapping coming from somewhere behind him.
�� Malik blinked
before glancing behind him, wondering what could possibly make such a sound.
What he found was a foot.
�� More specifically,
a tapping foot.
�� Malik blinked
once before his eyes slowly trailed up that foot, a sudden feeling of dread
welling up inside of him.
�� His fears were
quickly realized as he found himself staring at Bakura's face.
�� And the thief did
not look happy.
�� Bakura
continued to tap his foot to a steady rhythm, causing his soft-soled slipper to
make a surprisingly loud tap each time it impacted with the hard stone path. He
stood there, not saying a word, with his arms crossed over his chest and a very
irritated look on his face as his silver eyes gazed downwards piercingly,
almost accusingly, into his slave's lavender ones.
�� "Er..." Malik could feel the sweat forming on his
forehead as the corners of his mouth curled up into a nervous, guilty smile.
"Um... I guess... food's ready?"
�� Bakura didn't
answer as he continued to tap his foot.
�� Malik grimaced
as he very slowly turned around, dropping the weed on the ground. He fidgeted,
pressing his dirt-crusted fingertips together. "Um... I bet you're...
wondering why I'm here...! There's a perfectly good explanation... for
this..."
�� Bakura still
tapped his foot in silence, his gaze never wavering.
�� Malik shifted,
finding Bakura's silence unnerving. His gaze shifted to the abandoned bowl and
washcloth by the thief's foot before glancing up at Bakura. Slowly, it started
to dawn on him that he didn't have a
good explanation for his behavior. "...Ah..."
�� Bakura started
to tap his foot a little faster; a sure sign that the bandit was slowly growing
impatient for an answer.
�� Malik
swallowed hard. He may as well try honesty. "I... went to get some water
for my washcloth and... well... I got lost and... found the garden and... got
sidetracked."
�� Finally Bakura
spoke, though he didn't stop tapping his foot. "What part of 'stay in bed'
did you not understand?" he asked in a frighteningly calm tone of voice.
�� "Errr..." Malik blinked at that, and then shifted
nervously. "...Well, I... I did stay but I was out of water so I...
thought I could just make it quick..."
�� "Did it
ever occur to you to ask me for more
water when I came back with your breakfast?" Bakura said lowly in a
forcibly even tone, resisting the urge to growl.
�� Malik's eyes
widened at that, his expression clearly stating that it had, in fact, not occurred
to him.
�� "I
thought not," Bakura grunted as he finally stopped tapping his foot.
"Get up. You need a bath now."
�� Malik fumbled
to his feet quickly, dusting himself in a rather vain attempt to get at least
some of the dirt off. "A... ah... am I in... trouble...?" he found
himself asking, though he immediately realized it was a stupid question.
�� Bakura just
gave him a look that said it all.
�� Malik
flinched, and then fidgeted. "I'll... I'll stay in bed from now
on..."
�� "You're
damn right you will," Bakura grunted as he snatched up the bowl and
washcloth from the ground beside him. "And I'm going to make sure of
that."
�� Malik blinked
slowly. "What... do you mean?"
�� "You
remember what I warned you I would do if you got out of bed without my
permission, right?" Bakura asked as he gave his slave a hard stare.
�� Malik furrowed
his eyebrows as he thought back, struggling to remember before it all of a
sudden hit him. His eyes bugged out, the color draining from his face.
"You can't mean you're going to...!"
�� "Get moving,"
Bakura ordered as he nudged the blond's shoulder blade firmly. "We need to
get you clean before I can replace those bandages."
�� Malik stared
at Bakura for a moment, struggling with the idea of the thief being serious.
"Are... you going to tie me up...?"
�� The thief was
silent for a moment before he leaned in closer to his slave, giving the blond a
particularly intense stare. "What do you think?"
�� Malik stared
at Bakura, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. He hesitated before he
suddenly whipped around and bolted for the door with a squeal.
�� Unfortunately,
the tanned boy didn't get far, as Bakura suddenly seized the back of his robe
and yanked him backwards with a sharp tug.
�� Malik cried
out as he was jerked backwards before he was suddenly flipped upwards and over
Bakura's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The slave squeaked, then yowled and
squirmed as he tried to escape the thief and the fate in store for him. "Noooo! I don't want to be tied up!"
�� "You should
have thought of that before you disobeyed me," Bakura calmly retorted as
he carried his thrashing slave from the room.
�� "Eeeeeee, put me down! I'll be good! I'll be good!"
�� "Too
late."

----

�� "No, no, noooooo! Let me gooooooo!
Stop!"
�� "For the
hundredth time: HOLD STILL!"
Bakura snapped as he tried to pin Malik's body to the bed forcibly.
�� Malik wailed,
sounding as if Bakura was beating him brutally as the thief tried to pin the
squirming (but clean) boy to the bed. "I don't want to be tied up! I don't
want to be tied up!"
�� "Aren't
you tired yet?" Bakura demanded,
exasperated. Malik had been squealing, protesting, squirming, and struggling to
get away ever since he had carried the blond out of the garden. He hadn't even
been able to get changed into clean and dry clothes after giving the other boy
a bath. Privately he had to admire his slave's surprising amount of spirit, as
well as the tanned boy's energy and strength, but that emotion was almost all
but buried under an intensely strong feeling of annoyance that only grew the
longer Malik struggled.
�� "Let me
go, let me go! I'll be good! I'll be good!" Malik whined, struggling to
try and crawl away even as Bakura managed to get his wrists close to the
headboard. "Don't tie me up!"
�� "The more
you struggle the longer I'm going to tie you up!" Bakura snapped as he
finally managed to tie one of the tanned boy's wrists to the headboard with a
piece of cloth he had grabbed from one of the piles of clothes near the bed.
�� Malik howled,
as if wounded, and reached up to try and untie his wrist as he squirmed
underneath the thief.
�� Unfortunately
for the yowling slave, his master snatched up the other hand and proceeded to
tie that one to the opposite side of the headboard as well.
�� Malik whined
pathetically as he writhed, trying to twist his wrists free. He knew he was
losing the battle, but he wasn't about to give up yet.
"BAKURAAAAAA-!"
�� "I'm not
done yet!" Bakura exclaimed as he reached for yet more to tie Malik up
with; determined to make sure that the blond couldn't escape from his
restraints like last time.
�� Malik
continued to wail, even though his throat was seriously starting to hurt, and
squirmed. He felt exhausted, his muscles screaming at him, but he wasn't about
to go quietly; if he proved to be too much of a pain, maybe Bakura would change
his mind and give up!
�� "You
might as well surrender!" the thief exclaimed as he used more strips of
cloth he snatched to thoroughly tie the blond's wrists, arms, and hands to the
headboard, to insure that there was no easy way of getting free. "There's
no way you can beat me!"
�� Malik thrashed
on the bed, trying to make things as difficult as possible for Bakura.
"No, no, nooo! Let me go!"
�� "THERE!" Bakura finally declared
once the deed had been done. He moved backwards off of Malik so that he could
sit comfortably on the bed, leaning back on his arms, and let out an exhalation
of relief before he took the time to catch his breath as he admired his
handiwork. Malik had exhausted him, but in the end he had managed to tie the
blond thoroughly to the bed.
�� Unfortunately,
Bakura had left his slave's legs untied - a fact he was quickly made aware of
as, without warning, Malik lashed his legs out to shove Bakura off the bed.
�� The thief
barely had a chance to cry out before he went tumbling unceremoniously over the
side of the bed and hit the floor with an audible thud. "OW!"
�� "Ooops!" Malik jerked up and blinked, momentarily
startled out of his temper tantrum to stare at Bakura in concern. "Are you
okay?"
�� Slowly a hand
reached up to grasp the edge of the bed. Bakura then used that hand to pull
himself upwards into a sitting position. The thief glared over the edge of the
bed at his slave. "You are very
lucky that I'm not a violent person."
�� Malik made a
face at that, and then promptly scooted upwards to try and lessen the tightness
of his bonds before moving to try and untie them with his teeth.
�� Bakura's gaze
flattened as he noticed the action. With forced calmness he stood up, a sash of
cloth in hand, and then promptly leaned over to quickly gag Malik before the
blond could react in time to stop him.
�� Malik let out
a muffled cry before he squirmed and tried to push Bakura away again with his
feet.
�� Unfortunately
for the struggling blond, the thief anticipated that action, and quickly
snatched the tanned boy's legs in one arm, holding them fast, so that he could
finish gagging his slave.
�� Malik squirmed
and whined, thrashing against his master as he tried to spit out the gag.
�� Bakura wasn't
done, however, as he grabbed another piece of cloth so that he could start
tying his slave's legs to the foot of the bed.
�� "Mwrrrrr-!?" Malik squirmed, trying to yank his feet
away.
�� Regrettably
for the tanned boy, the bandit managed to tie one leg then the other to the
bed, rendering him immobile at last. He barely had room to squirm and thrash
his body from side to side.
�� "Finally," Bakura sighed, but didn't
drop his guard, lest his slave try some other form of assault or escape that he
hadn't yet noticed.
�� Despite the
lack of maneuverability, Malik did quite a bit of squirming on the bed. He
twisted and jerked around, yanking and kicking valiantly. At the very least,
he'd make sure that he got as little rest as possible. It'd serve Bakura right
if he got even sicker simply because of this! The fact that it'd hurt him more than Bakura was irrelevant.
�� "You
know... for someone who is such a damned doormat most of the time, you sure put
up a hell of a fight," Bakura drawled as he watched the blond struggle for
all the slave was worth.
�� Malik made a
strangled noise as he continued to struggle, almost violently as he tried to
tear the sashes loose.
�� Bakura sighed
in exasperation as he reached over to try and pin the tanned boy to the bed by
pushing his hands down on Malik's stomach firmly yet gently. "Stop it! You're going to hurt
yourself!"
�� Malik jerked
away from Bakura's hands, continuing to make noise in displeasure at his
circumstances.
�� Nearing the
end of his temper Bakura decided to suddenly sit down on Malik's stomach and
use his entire body to force his slave to hold still. "I said STOP IT!" he bellowed in the
blond's face as he gripped the other boy's shoulders tightly.
�� Malik jerked
back, his eyes widening as his body went completely rigid.
�� Bakura glared
into the bound boy's eyes a few moments longer before straightening.
"Good. Now just stay like that until I untie you."
�� Malik felt his
heart racing as he stared at Bakura, biting the sash in his mouth slightly. A
slight tremor ran up his spine as his pupils shrank to dots, his stomach
clenching under the weight of Bakura. Ever since he had gotten there, Bakura
had been lording over him; at first, Malik had thought it was just about taking
care of him and thus didn't really mean any of it. Briefly, he had even
forgotten about the whole "slave" and "master" deal.
�� But now he
wasn't so sure anymore. All at once, everything was becoming familiar - far too
familiar.
�� Bakura was
dominating him, tying him up, screaming
at him like a possession.
�� Things his
father did.
�� Bakura was acting
like his father.
�� Bakura noticed
the expression of fear on the blond's face and couldn't help but grimace
slightly. "Don't give me that look," he said as he tried to ignore an
uncomfortable knot in the pit of his stomach. "I gave you plenty of
warning what would happen if you kept disobeying me. It's not my fault that you
don't know what's best for you."
�� Malik felt
himself grow sick to his stomach as he clenched his fingers (not that Bakura
could see through the sashes). He averted his eyes as he held perfectly still,
trying not to shake. He felt so confused; he had grown to like how Bakura had
treated him so kindly, but now it seemed he had been right the first time: he
was property.
�� Bakura
couldn't help but let out a sigh as he held his head. "Gods..." he
breathed in exasperation. Despite his limited experience with people, even he
could see that he had absolutely terrified Malik and caused the tanned boy to
regress back into his fearful of everyone state. With another sigh he moved off
of Malik's stomach and sat beside the bound slave on their bed. "I'm not
doing this to be mean to you or abuse you!"
�� Malik kept his
eyes averted and held perfectly still, lest Bakura scream at him again.
"...I thought things were different... He said things were different...
but they're only different when I'm obedient..." he thought, dismayed.
He'd need to be far more obedient in the future.
�� At seeing that
his words had no affect, Bakura swore sharply under his breath. He then reached
over and removed the gag from Malik to allow the blond to speak so that they
could properly argue. "Do you WANT
to get sick and die? Is that it?"
�� "...No..."
came the soft response. The slave boy kept his eyes averted, not daring to look
at Bakura in the face.
�� "Then why
can't you see that I only want what's best for you?" Bakura demanded, his
frustration only growing stronger.
�� "...I can
see that..." Malik murmured, not looking at Bakura.
�� Bakura's cheek
twitched. "Damn it, Malik! Why do you have to be this way?"
�� Malik
hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Was it a rhetorical question?
�� Bakura grunted
as he glared at the blond. Of course the slave wouldn't answer him. He just
undid all the progress the other boy made in being able to be a normal person.
He wanted to stop Malik from being so weak and he got in a way he didn't want.
Of course if he showed his displeasure at the blond's attitude, the abused boy
would go back to being a whimpering and scared child, which was exactly what
the thief did not want.
�� "Fine,"
Bakura huffed as he made up his mind. "Fine, fine, fine!" He reached over to briskly untie Malik's wrists from
the headboard. Despite how thoroughly he had tied the other boy, he managed to
remove the sashes in short order, and then did the same to the ones around his
slave's ankles.
�� Malik remained
perfectly immobile, not moving even after he had been set free. He wasn't about
to set Bakura off again.
�� "There!"
Bakura snapped as he tossed the cloth aside violently. "I untied
you!" He then stood up beside the bed. "Happy now?"
�� Malik remained
perfectly still, keeping even his breathing light lest Bakura get angrier.
�� A violent twitch ran through Bakura's tense
body. Why did Malik have to be this way, especially after all the worrying he
had done before? The blond had nearly died and wasn't out of danger so long as
the tanned boy was still injured; Malik could have gotten sick already, but the
other boy was too busy acting like a brat to care! Why should the thief care
for someone who didn't care for themselves and disregarded how he felt?
�� "FINE!" Bakura snarled as he threw
his arms into the air. "Do whatever you damn well please! I don't care any
more!" With that he whirled on his heel and stormed out of the room. He
needed to get away for a while, at least until he calmed down, before he did
something he would later regret.
�� Malik flinched
slightly, unable to help himself. He glanced up as Bakura stormed out of the
room, then curled up on his side and hugged himself. "..."
�� After a number
of minutes of silence faint but the familiar sound of the cave entrance opening
and closing caught Malik's attention, causing the slave to sit up sharply.
Malik started blankly, almost uncomprehending, out the door into the empty
hallway before he gave a shuddering sob.

----

�� "Bakura...?
Bakura... Bakura, please answer me..."
�� Malik
whimpered as he slowly wandered the cave, searching for his master as he
trailed his fingers along the wall. He hiccupped slightly, wiping at his eyes
occasionally, before glancing around once more. He had no idea how much time
had passed since their argument and when he had finally stopped crying, but it
seemed like an eternity. He had seen neither hide nor hair of the thief since.
�� There was not
a sound, not a shadow, not even a sliver of hair, nothing but emptiness and
silence.
�� "Bakura,
please..." Malik whispered, shaking slightly. He sincerely doubted Bakura
could hear him, but he had to say it. The thief most likely wasn't even in the
cave, having left earlier; Malik had never heard him return, but he had
sincerely hoped he just hadn't noticed. "Please... where are you...?"
�� After Malik
had managed to calm down, he had found the once fresh-made meal on the floor of
their room. The bowl had been shattered, no doubt dropped by Bakura once he had
realized that Malik was gone. The slave remembered far too well how Bakura had
said he rarely ever cooked for himself - and yet, the thief had cooked for him.
In fact, his master had cooked practically every meal he had since he started
living there.
�� This, of
course, immediately made Malik start bawling all over again.
�� Having calmed
down a second time, the slave wandered through the cave aimlessly in search of
his master. Unfortunately, his search was for nothing. After finding himself
searching the same rooms over and over, Malik could only come to one
conclusion: Bakura was most definitely not in the cave.
�� Malik sighed
as he slumped against the wall, hanging his head. "He's... not
here..." he muttered dully. Slowly, the slave turned to look at the entrance.
He tilted his head, giving a slight sniffle before making a face.
"...Maybe... maybe he's outside...?"
�� After a
moment's hesitation, Malik slowly fumbled to his feet. He dusted himself off,
and then reached up to grip the locket around his neck. Bakura could have been
out on the cliffs, gazing at the sky in an effort to calm down. At the very
least, Malik might be able to see the thief using the far-reaching view the
height gave him.
�� With that in
mind, the slave moved to gently tap the locket against the wall. As expected,
the rock barrier slid open with that familiar loud grinding noise of stone on
stone, revealing the dark entrance beyond.
�� Malik peered
outside before quickly reaching over to grab a torch off of the wall; he wasn't
about to make the same mistake as before. Light in hand, Malik hurried outside
through the passage and into the outside world.
�� Thanks to the
torch the slave could more easily see the entrance cavern. Unlike the areas
hidden behind the secret stone door, the rocks here were jagged and uneven,
making it look to all the world just like any other cave created by nature.
�� Malik blinked
but didn't pause to think too much of the masonry as he hurried outside,
wanting to find Bakura as soon as possible. The details could wait until then.
�� The darkness
of night greeted the slave once he exited the cave. The light from the stars
was dimmer tonight, thanks to a surprisingly large number of clouds that
floated across the sky, blocking out much of the light from the heavens.
However, it was still bright enough to see the canyon well enough to notice
that Bakura seemed to be nowhere in sight.
�� Malik
hesitated and made a face as he slowly scanned the canyon, grimacing. Surely
the thief had to be around; after all, Bakura wouldn't have abandoned him. "Bakura...?"
�� Unfortunately
there was no answer. There wasn't even any sign of Dusk, Bakura's horse,
grazing at the river at bottom of the canyon, not that the dark horse could
easily be noticed at night.
�� "...Bakura...?"
Malik repeated, his stomach clenching. Would the thief be hiding from him?
�� Still, no
answer came, and there was no sign of his master.
�� Malik shivered
slightly before glancing around almost desperately, trying to find any sight of
his master. He turned slightly before following the same path that Bakura had
shown him before, leading him upwards to the cliff side where he and his master
had watched his first sunrise.
�� The path was a
bit of a walk, but Malik was too busy thinking about Bakura to notice. When the
slave finally reached the top, he felt his heart sink into his stomach at the
sight of an empty cliff.
�� Bakura was
nowhere to be found.
�� "Where...
where is he...? Where could he be...?" Malik murmured, his entire body
shaking. "He can't be gone... He can't be..."
�� It was then
that Malik noticed that the sky was starting to lighten from near black to
light blue, as sunrise approached over the horizon.
�� Malik gave a
start before jerking around to stare at the sky. He gawked as the sun slowly
began to rise, painting the sky in a brilliant display of colors once more. The
slave watched, his expression dumbfounded, as light chased away the darkness to
reveal a glorious, golden morning. It was indeed a beautiful sight.
�� And it was all
wrong.
�� The slave
blinked slowly, unbelieving at first, before his trembling increased. He
dropped the torch, which clattered by his feet noisily, before he sunk to his
knees. Malik stared at the sky for a moment as tears started to form in his
eyes. And then, as the sun brought a brand new day, Malik hunched forward and
wailed in misery before curling up into a bawling, trembling ball on the cliff
side.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Yu-Gi-Oh!: Aurora