fluffydeathdealer | [CAMPUS/IC]

Soul fragments are meant to be handled with care and made only under extreme circumstances!

[Malik's brow twitches as he's yelled at, and while he's still in too much residual pain to really bark back, his words are cold and firm enough that it has the same effect.]

The Rod doesn't work from a distance. I needed soul fragments in order to control the Ghouls and others from afar. My plans wouldn't have worked without them. It hardly matters anyway...as long as I can finish what I set out to do.

Idiot! If you're not careful, there'll be nothing of your soul left! You'll never reach your goal if you keep splitting your soul until there's nothing left to keep going on!

Tch...I'll be fine. Besides, before coming here, I was almost there.

[The Battle City Finals...it was cruel to have been ripped from home when he was so close to the finish line.]

I wouldn't have needed to set any more fragments if it weren't for coming here.

Kh... I'm three thousand years old and I don't have as many fragments as you!

[Leaning over, he grabs Malik by the shoulders.]

Malik... please. Promise me you won't make many more of them.

[The grab surprises him and Malik tenses in response. He looks Bakura straight in the eyes, defiant.]

I'll make whatever I have to.

...

[Letting go of him, he sits back.]

It's your funeral.

I'll be fine. I'm sick of you not having any faith in me, Bakura... I'd stop if I felt too weak, but the fragments I've been putting in most people have been small.

I have no faith in you because you don't give me reason to have any! Respect has to be earned, Malik, not demanded.

You insolent...are you saying you don't respect me?! After everything we've been through...!

[Beneath that rising fury, Malik sounded hurt.]

Why not? It's obvious that you don't respect me.

[Folding his arms over his chest, he looks away.]

If you did, you'd treat me like a person instead of acting like I'm some sort of toy for your amusement.

Fool. I already told you... [He doesn't want to say it again...that Bakura was more than just a "thing" to him. It was hard enough the first time.]

[Malik reaches down, pulling off one of his fingerless biker gloves so he can show Bakura the scar stretched across his palm.]

If you were just a toy...I wouldn't have done this! I'm not beyond manipulating others to achieve my own goals, but what benefit would this possibly have for me? It's not like you listen to a damn thing I say anyway!

...

[He moves to take Malik's hand, pressing a light kiss to the scar. That's right... As unkind as Malik acted, he had made that promise regardless, hadn't he?

A sigh ghosts over the raised flesh as he lets it go.]

I listen. But the way you talk is sometimes... a lot colder than that. Sometimes it sounds like you don't care for me at all.

Heh... I guess I'm the same, aren't I? Old habits die hard.

[Malik watches and feels that affectionate gesture against his skin, his anger cooling with it.]

You are the same. [He says flatly, taking his hand back and pulling the glove over it.]

We're... [His fingers were still gripping the edge of his glove, stuck there in mid-motion. Where had he even been going with this...?]

[Resting his arms on his knees and looking down at Malik from the table, he ponders it.]

We're both new to this. It's only natural.

[Sigh.]

But you know, I'm worried about you.

... [Malik hunches over, wishing he could rest his head. All of this...it reminded him of being a child again. The novelty, the intrigue, and the fright of it all.]

[A bit of irritation enters his voice again.] I hear that enough from Rishid and my Sister. I'm doing what I have to do--and as long as it doesn't let that other half of myself out again, I don't care!

But it might.

[His voice is quiet. Sitting back, he looks at the ceiling, almost expressionlessly. It's an eerie look for his usually expressive face.]

The more your soul divides, the weaker you'll get. And the more easily he'll be able to corrupt it.

...Why? [His voice is soft, almost a whisper. Malik's head droops then, his eyes pointed to the floor. It was a desolate sight, a defeated look on what was usually such a confident boy.]

Why do I have that thing inside of me...?

[His gaze softens at the sight and he shakes his head despondently. He has no idea what to say. It must be hard, having something like that inside of you.]

I don't know. If it was possible to separate him from you, I would... but it's not within my power.

[It was frightening. Whenever he thought about it, Malik felt as if the darkness itself was going to swallow him up.

There was nobody who could possibly understand what it felt like...to have something inside you that would destroy everything you cared about the instance it had the chance. To be trapped in your own body, out of control and blind to the world around you.

...Wait.

There was someone who might understand. Malik himself had told that boy he understood how he felt not that long ago. But the last thing he wanted to do was reach out for comfort from Ryou, of all people. Even if that kind-hearted fool had held him when he was having nightmares...]

I know...it's fine.

[There was nothing he could do. Bakura had no idea how it felt to be as vulnerable as Malik must. He didn't know what it was like to be afraid of yourself, to hide from yourself, to know that you could wake up to find everything you loved gone. He was discomfitted enough by what it felt like to care for someone at all.

But despite Malik's words, he knew it wasn't fine. His rage was gone, his irritation dimmed. There was little he could do save for this. Slipping off of the table, he drew Malik into his arms in a tight embrace.]

...I do respect you. Even if I don't act like it.

[Malik doesn't try to deny himself the comfort of Bakura's embrace. He just doesn't have the strength for it.

All he can do is press his face into the other man's shoulder and sit there, one hand lifting up to rest at Bakura's side as he tried to ignore the numbness taking over him.

If splitting his soul really made it easier for his other half to corrupt him...maybe it was too late. Maybe that's why he was able to come out in the first place.]

Bakura...

[He brings a hand up to cup the back of Malik's head, fingers stroking through his hair. He keeps forgetting how young Malik really is. There's still only a small amount of guilt, but it grows the more he sees Malik like this. It's a spiral of unending darkness.]

What is it?

Nothing. I was just saying your name.

[It was kind of silly, now that he thought about, but...

Whatever. He was just going to stay in this hold as long as Bakura would allow it, slowly easing his worries down to their usual tolerable toxicity.]

...heh. I see.

[He lets the hold stay until he feels Malik is safe to let go, before drawing back to look at his face seriously.]

How are you feeling?

6/6

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject