Pairings: Yami no Yuugi/Yami no Bakura
Notes: Part two of cresselia's drabble request.
In April, Bakura's father fell ill and canceled his flight home. Ordinarily this wouldn't have bothered Bakura too much. He missed his father every now and then, but since every member of his family was gone all the time anyway it had stopped being painful years ago. It was just that, sometimes, it was harder to fall asleep since Malik had left. Other times it was harder to wake up.
Insomnia was a problem he hadn't had in years.
There are some things in life which happen purely by coincidence, with such absurd timing that people assume they could happen only in movies. Sometimes, perhaps, a group of children will tell ghost stories while they hide from the rain, and thunder might crash right along with the last sentence. The children might scream and laugh and wonder if it will ever happen again.
Sometimes, perhaps, a wife will forget to say "drive safe" the same day her husband is in an accident. If he survives, they might take it as some sort of sign.
But, most of them will be told, it's just coincidence. Perfect timing. Unfortunate timing.
There was a small, little-visited tea shop in downtown Domino that Yuugi visited every now and then. It had only one restroom, and the lock was broken--but no one knew that, because there were so few patrons that no one competed for its use.
It was coincidence that Malik, who hated tea, had been thinking about them seconds before he pushed his way into a small restroom in a tea shop and found them.
Bakura--he couldn't tell it was the Other Bakura yet--was pressed against the wall near the sink, with the Other Yuugi--Malik would have known him anywhere--standing flush against him, hand buried conspicuously down the front of Bakura's jeans. They never kissed, would never kiss, but they did stare at one another like dogs about to fight, and it took a moment for them to decide to break eye contact to see who was intruding.
When he saw Malik there, the Pharaoh pulled away sharply, as though Bakura had suddenly turned cold.
They didn't look like lovers; they didn't even look like ashamed lovers. Neither of them seemed about to step defensively in front of the other, not even with how dangerously black Malik's expression had turned. (Though realistically neither had much to fear, Malik would suppose bitterly later.)
"Eh, something wrong, Malik?" Bakura's parasite crooned.
"You," he began, in Arabic. He stepped further into the room, glaring at the Other Yuugi mostly. His accent was sharper but when he spoke again, it was in the appropriate language. "How--dare you? To Bakura-kun?"
"Dear Landlord has never complained," the parasite answered, mockingly.
"Shut up." The Dark Bakura laughed quietly, but Malik was too focused on the Pharaoh then to hear it over the pounding of his own pulse in his ears. "What right do you have? Are you just going to take everything, from all of us? You'd even use him?"
"Malik," the Pharaoh tried for placating but it sounded condescending even to his own ears. He shrugged off the gentle approach. "This doesn't concern you."
"The hell it doesn't! If you aren't going to stand up for him then someone has to." He gave the Dark Bakura a hot, accusing glare. "Gods know he won't stand up for himself."
The spirit snorted. "How unfortunate that you would bother yourself with such a weak human as my Landlord is." He stretched slightly, like a full-body shrug. "He has learned, Malik. He knows I'll take care of him. Why would he waste his time whining about this?"
The shopkeeper peered around the corner and mumbled an order for them to finish their business one at a time, or get out. The Other Yuugi, being the only one of the three with any social skills, was the first to step out, and (as a peace offering) he left the shop as well. Malik slammed the door shut behind him.
The Other Bakura's expression took on a note of interest for the first time since Malik had popped in uninvited.
"Let him live his life." Malik stalked towards him, stopped inches from him, when all the entity did was scoff.
He began to snarl out something more elaborate, but the thief cut him off. "The only reason you care is because now he won't let you manipulate him." He gazed up at Malik, that constant smile on his lips widening a fraction into something crueler. "Pants are a little tighter since he got you to leave, ne, Malik?"
Malik smirked, to let him know that he was thinking something sharp and cutting in response, but instead of saying it he buried his fist in the other's midriff.
He crumpled to the tile, the wind knocked out of him, and Malik kicked him twice soundly in the ribs. It wasn't until the other teen rolled onto his side that he realized it was Bakura Ryou.
Malik stared a second, eyes wide, and then he dropped painfully to his knees. "Bakura! I--can you talk?" The confusion in the other boy's eyes was worse than his own guilt. Malik kept his hand on Bakura's shoulder, trying to help him breathe through his own force of will, and gradually Bakura took hold of his wrist.
To his credit, the teen tried to shove Malik away when the Ring began to glow.