Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! However, I am claiming this plot and any OCs I might have. I only accept constructive criticism.

Metamorphosis of the Mariposa

Chapter 1

The Past Forever Interrupting the Present

'Why would they choose such colors?' Once more she eyed herself in her new school uniform and continued to analyze herself. She had been to quite a few schools, some with uniforms others without, but never had she seen such colors put together for the girls.

Usually they were bland such as black, whites, and grays, or more traditional with plaids and such. But this school chose a different route with their cobalt blue pleated skirts, white blouses under rose pink blazers trimmed in white, below a matching cobalt bow. She tugged on the white knee-highs making sure the fresh elastic would indeed stay in place.

Looking at her hair she opted for a pulled back high ponytail. She knew she'd have to explain to her father why her hair was down if she wore it the way she wanted. Giving a sigh between annoyance and distress, she moved over to her tan leather backpack and made sure everything she needed was in it. After double-checking and adding a few more pens, she zipped it up and slung it over her shoulder.

She padded lightly down the hall and came to the steps, making quick work of them. Hesitantly she entered the kitchen where she found her father scowling at the paper while sipping his extremely strong tea. Pausing, she contemplated entering the room; was breakfast really that important?

She could remember countless times getting hunger headaches from simply missing the meal. Maybe she could pick something on the way to school? That wouldn't work either. She needed to save her money for lunch unless she decided on to skip the midday meal, for the early morning nibble. Her gut began to boil with the idea going in without any of her brothers in the room.

'It'll be okay…' It was her first day at school and all; perhaps mercy would be shown? Hoping to go unnoticed she moved more quietly than usual to grab an apple.

"Good morning Binti," the blond murmured.

Her back visibly stiffened as she grabbed one of the ruby red apples. "Good morning Abi," she replied. Slowly she turned around giving him a forced smile.

His violet eyes roamed over the vibrantly colored uniform, till they settled on the patch of caramel between where her skirt ended and her knee highs began, "Why are you parading around as some sharmuta?" He gently scooted his chair back.

She kept her flinch unnoticeable do to practice, "I bought it from the school Abi, it is indeed regulation." She continued her respectful cheer all while resisting the urge to run out or verbally retaliate. It would only make things worse later.

Slowly Mr. Ishtar rose from his chair and approached his only daughter, his face holding a devious quality to it. "I suppose this is correct clothing you should be wearing." The tips of his fingers trailed from the top of her knee-highs to the edge of her skirt, where they lightly rested. "You'll never find anyone who'd want you for more than a night…" Lifting his gaze he cruelly smiled at her feared and hurt expression.

"T-That's not true…" Isis stammered out twisting a bit, moving his hand under her skirt.

Gripping the new material he twisted it showing more of her thighs to him, "Now Isis…I don't mind ironing your skirt before school."

"I uh—" Before she could understand in walked her brother, her younger brother. "What are you doing up so early?" She quickly asked shifting away from her still hovering father.

The look-a-like to his father yawned wide running a hand through his current mop of blonde hair, "…Iftar…" he grunted.

Nonchalantly Mr. Ishtar smoothed out the skirt in a fatherly manner and moved away from his daughter, "Well, if you don't want me to iron, that's fine. But you shouldn't be so wrinkled, it's not professional. Then again you've never really than proficient have you?" He moved back to his seat, picking up his tea before going back to the paper.

The question was rhetorical. They always were.

Stumbling out of the kitchen, she headed straight for the door. Finding her brown flats by the front door she slid into them welcoming the fresh morning air. It cleared her mind and allowed her to once more grip her self-preservation she worked hard on building this morning in her bedroom.

Looking across the street she spotted her brother jogging with his ear-buds in. The white cords bounced against the growing sweat stain around the gray sweatshirt. He didn't see her but she wasn't surprised. It was rare her eldest brother noticed anyone during physical activity. She knew it was his way of dealing with their father.

They each had their own way of dealing with the elder Ishtar's…ways. Odion pushed his body to its absolute physical limits by jogging till he couldn't breath and working out till the point his muscles burned. She knew his habits were from an unhealthy foundation while others saw him as an amazing athlete, which he was, for all the wrong reasons. However, she didn't blame him since her father was always throwing "adopted" his way.

Malik was on a more mental level. Mr. Ishtar doted on Malik as if he were an only child. Whatever he wanted he got and then some. They all knew that he wanted his son, his blood son, to take over the family business of artifacts and translations. However, they all knew Malik much rather party than date a vase. So, to keep his father off his back he settled graciously into the position of favorite child. He knew that if he responded positively to his father's materialistic tactics, Mr. Ishtar would be happy and he would continue to get what he wanted.

Finally out of the neighborhood she began spotting fellow students walking with friends or lovers or siblings. Isis didn't mind being alone; she wanted this quiet time to reflect…to seethe. Her father was really wearing on her more than usual.

Perhaps he was stressed from the move? She seriously doubted that. It had been a move like any other; return to Cairo for a few months before shoving off to the next country the council would send him. Never once did he consult any one of them if they wanted to leave Cairo, not the first, not the third, not the fifth time.

Whether he had to be sent to America, South America, Ireland, or even Pakistan Mr. Ishtar was always packed and ready never asking his family if they were okay with it. She felt it had a lot to do with her mother's death.

After she passed from the West Nile Virus, their father's darker side emerged. They had always seen glimpses of it but it was usually out done by their mother's pure shine. However, now they faced his judgmental ruthless ways on a regular. While Malik was left to do whatever he wanted while receiving as much attention as he wanted and didn't need, Odion was royally ignored and Isis was judged on a sick level.

No matter what she did, it was never enough. She had a 4.0 GPA, always made honors classes, never had a complaint from a teacher or school official, yet, she was never as good as Malik. The same Malik who cut class, barely passed, and back talked teachers. The same Malik he bought a motorcycle for before he could even legally ride it, while Isis still had to walk wherever she went. Odion had saved his money from is part-time job and bought himself something nice yet affordable, but Isis didn't have time for a job and her piles of schoolwork not to mention the clubs and committees she often joined.

Between him constantly bringing her down and not acknowledging her strong intellect, he was always…touching her. It always boarded inappropriate but she never allowed it to go any further. She didn't tell Malik because she knew he'd attempt to beat Mr. Ishtar up, and she didn't tell Odion because he'd want to sit down and have a family meeting about it. Either one would make things worse for her because he'd easily deny it. Emotional scaring was an understatement.

Quickly pushing aside past memories she turned the corner following the route she had mapped out when they first moved here and found the school. She had found the fastest, safest way there and judging by one of her landmarks she would be there in five minutes or so. They didn't live to far from Domino High School.

Soon the long fence that wrapped around the large school came into sight. She spotted many others dressed as she was or in the boy's blue uniform also making their way in. It was nice to know she wasn't the person to be early.

Rounding in the open gate she was immediately met with curious eyes and low murmurs. Her plan had been to blend in, but it was kind of hard with her looks. Ignoring the stares and whispers she entered into the school with the confidence of knowing where her locker would be.

Following the memorized path she found her scraped and dented locker along the bottom section. To say the least she had been upset to find her locker to that of a bottom one, but she hadn't complained for the sheer fact that it was rare that she did. Enough things were going wrong at home that she didn't complain about, why complain about other minor things?

Kneeling down she put in her combination and quickly grabbed the books for her first two classes and put them in her backpack before closing the door. Pulling a folded piece of paper from her still open backpack, she made sure she had the right room number in her head before heading in the direction.

Isis timidly passed other students chatting or studying. She didn't look at them or speak she simply passed. Isis was used to the unwritten rule of High School by now. One of them happened to be, "Don't speak unless spoken to." Taking it to heart, she continued silently down the hall that was until her name was called.

"Isis…Isis Ishtar?"

Slowly she turned around and a small smile of recognition graced her lips, "Ryou?"

The almost albino moved faster down the hall before giving a surprising embrace to the stiff girl, "Blimey! I haven't seen you in ages!" He let her go with a blush to find the few bodies in the hall watching the exchange.

Isis stepped back a little adjusting her rumpled uniform, "When did you leave the boarding school?"

At one time the Ishtar family was stationed in London, where she and her brothers went to one of the top boarding schools there. While Isis studied, and Odion played Polo, Malik was busy with the fight scene. There he met Bakura, which led them to Ryou, whom they found went to the boarding school as well. Isis spent a good amount of time with the quiet boy; they often studied together and found they even had a few classes together. They weren't best-friends but their relationship was solid enough.

"Shortly after you did; Father was re-stationed here to do a few digs. We've only been here about a year and a half and when I say we, I mean Bakura and I. Last I heard my father was in China somewhere. He left six months after settling here."

Isis nodded understanding completely. At times her father would leave weeks at a time then return for a few days or so before disappearing again. Not that she missed him and at times dared for his return not to happen, but she could still sympathize with Ryou. It was one of the things they briefly discussed back in London.

"Is Malik here?" Ryou asked finding her silence odd.

"You know Malik, doesn't show up anywhere early or on time." She gave a small smile from his breezy chuckle. Truly she had forgotten how refreshing the boy was. "I'm guessing the same with Bakura?"

He nodded and then his eyes lit up, "Especially since he's gotten this new friend! There an ill-behaved duo…in-fact, he claims to know Malik."

She cocked her head to one side, "Really now? What might his name be?" It wasn't surprising to meet a friend or friend of a friend here and there with how much they moved around.

"Marik."

Who knew two syllables could rattle her emotional mask. It didn't crack, it didn't shatter; it simply shook. Ryou didn't notice and continued telling about his arrival and other little known tidbits about the crazy blond.

Halfway through one of tales of the troublemakers, Isis checked her watch, "Ryou, I hate to interrupt you, but I really need to—"

Before she could come up with something remotely believable, the almost albino stopped her with a raise of his hand, "It's fine Isis, I was heading somewhere to meet someone as well. I'm really glad to see you and I'll save you a spot at lunch okay?"

Isis nodded and quickly moved past the boy towards her class. She couldn't help but simmer on the events that would probably soon unfold. If Marik was back in the picture no doubt Malik would cling to him once more and they all would suffer because of it.

She remembered the first time she spotted Marik in the Cairo office building that housed the council her father worked for. He was standing at the receptionist desk asking quite a few odd questions. For a moment she had mistaken him for Malik until she spotted the wilder and larger than usual hair. Not to mention her brother was making a bee-line for her from a different direction.

Their father had forced him to sit in on another meeting in which he was now blowing off since they usually ran pretty long and he had called her, requesting his sister and brother to come get him. Marik spotted him and casually extended his leg, tripping him.

Flashback

Malik caught himself luckily from the almost crash into the hard floors and turned with a sneer, "Watch your legs asshole." He didn't care who this guy was but all he knew is that he pissed him off.

Marik gave a smirk, leaning back against the desk, blatantly checking him out, "My apologies…sexy." Immediately the boy's cheeks flared up from the comment, how the man was now feasting on his looks, and how attractive he was. Marik reached over the counter and grabbed a Sharpie from the receptionist's desk, in which she didn't appreciate, and uncapped it. "How about you give me a call?" He grabbed his wrist and pulled him close. "Next time I trip you, I'll make sure it's into my bed," he seductively murmured as he scribbled the numbers into his trembling palm.

"Uh…yea, sure," Malik said coolly.

Marik winked at him, "Good…catch you later." Turning on his heel he headed towards the exit and paused at the door giving him another wink and smile.

He gave the man a small smile in return. He then turned and continued towards his sister. He was really ready to go home now; he had a phone call to make.

End Flashback

Ever since that day Malik and Marik were inseparable. As soon as their father caught them making out on the couch in the living room, he went off in a rage. Because Malik was rebellious, he didn't stop seeing the boy and Mr. Ishtar simply took out his anger on Isis and Odion. History was sure to repeat itself since Marik was in the same country, even worse the city.

Pushing that aside for now, she found her first class and slid the door back, entering the fairly small classroom.

She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, scanning the empty desks. Until her eyes landed on the occupied one; there sat a boy typing away on his laptop at speeds that sounded as if the keyboard couldn't keep up. She moved forward and his eyes rose at the sound of her shoes scuffling against the hard floor.

Not wanting to come off awkward she brightened her eyes and left her lips slack, not wanting to come off overly friendly, "Hello…"

"Hm." His deep ocean eyes stared at her face for a little to long in her opinion. They then lingered downwards and for some reason found the exposed skin quite fascinating. Catching himself staring, with one final grunt, he went back to typing paying her no mind.

Slightly irritated, she ignored him as well and took a seat as far from him as she could. She began unpacking the needed items for her first class of the day. Once her notebook, pens, and mechanical pencils were out, she set her backpack down next to her and tapped her pen against the notebook considering things.

Just her luck, her mind wondered to the brewing problem at hand; Marik was here, in these walls. Malik would be showing up soon enough and then all Hell would burst forth in the Ishtar home again. Perhaps she could persuade her brother into keeping their relationship a secret this time. Realizing that was a lost cause for the "in-your-face-Ishtar", she decided she should probably warn Odion so he could prepare for the events that would soon unfold.

Then again, preparation wouldn't save them from Mr. Ishtar's wrath.

PLEASE READ:

Yes, this is a repost.

I have read plenty of fics talking about Joey and his father problems and Kaiba and his adopted father problems. So, I was thinking to myself: "What about the Ishtar family?" Have you seen the show or read the manga!? They're dad is FUCKED UP to put it nicely.

Consequently, I felt inspired to write a good angst ridden High School fic where it talks about Isis dealing it along with Malik and Odion, but more focused on her. I'll also probably touch on Kaiba's problems with his father.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Mild Arabic will be spoken in this fic and translated at the bottom of every chapter.

Arabic Words:

Binti – Daughter

Abi – Father

Sharmuta – Whore/skank

Iftar – Breakfast

This was posted especially for:

Ruby-Knight – Sorry I took it down before; just at the time I didn't think I'd have time to work on it. But some things have moved around and now I do. I hope you continue to read.

Still Stands: If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.

REVIEW!!!

Well I'm Out