A/N First off, to those of you who read my other stories, Til Crimson Falls is on hiatus until Revival is finished, which shouldn't take too long if I write as fast as I'm planning. Secondly, I wrote this because I felt like a sappy fuck and thought I'd put it to good use, I have no idea why I felt this way, personally I blame Lucy by Skillet because I have it on repeat. Thirdly, and finally, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, if I did I would make my own Marik and Bakura and live with them. I know. I'm weird. Enjoy x

He sat at the desk once again like he had so many times, the same action about to begin. This wasn't the first time he'd done it, he felt foolish for doing it though, that was certain. He sighed heavily and picked up the pen in his hand beginning to write,

Dear Bakura,
It's been a while since I last wrote now, I still feel stupid for taking this up but someone has to do something to remember you. I think that's what annoys me the most about you and Atem in spite of the fact he got a proper send off and you didn't; no one seems to care that you're gone except for me and possibly Ryou. I haven't spoken to Ryou though, I have no way of contacting him yet I seem to have taken a leaf out of his book in this whole 'writing letters to the passed on' façade. Regardless that is beside the point.

It's your birthday today, well technically I think it's actually Ryou's, but I'm regarding it as yours anyway. How old would Ryou be anyway? I know you regarded him as more of a landlord and master than a friend but I reckon you would know. You only really cared for him and I in this life it seemed, you'd bend the rules to go Ryou's way you'd told me; sealing his friends into dolls so he could have them forever as he'd subconsciously wished, heck you even sealed that gym teacher away after he harassed him for his hair. That's something I'll always remember about you, your hair; especially the parts like wings. Hah! I can just imagine you giving me that brooding expression right now for mentioning it, sitting there staring at me with those cold eyes of yours, that mix or red and brown. Maybe that's one of the reasons I never really tried to stay in contact with Ryou or any of Yuugi-tatchi, because it would be a reminder of you and seeing as I'm still kind of suffering with the loss of someone who was pretty much my only 'friend' it'd be too hard. Well I suppose time heals all wounds eh 'Kura? Might take a few years but one day I'll be able to move on I guess, who knows; we might meet in the otherworld.

Yours as always, Marik

He sighed and slid the paper into a small envelope; the sun would be setting in an hour or so meaning if he was going to place the letter on time he'd have to leave immediately. Marik began making his way out the doorway thinking he'd escaped any questions but was proven wrong with the sound of his sister's voice from the living room,
"Marik where in Ra's name do you honestly think you're going? It'll be sun down soon and you know how cold it can get," groaning he went back to his room to fetch his coat, the old one he wore when in charge of the Rare Hunters,
"I'll be back soon Ishizu, I have my coat so I'll be fine," he was made to shout in order for her to hear him over the blaring noise coming from the TV, a short nod was his response before he finally head out the door into the desert. He knew where he was headed; the walk would take him around half an hour. Marik was unfazed about not taking his motorcycle as transport, the walk allowed him to think, to clear his thoughts, to get his train off of him. He drew in a sharp breath unable to think the name unless he was writing; the fair haired male had been his closest companion other than Odion and his sister. He continued his walk until he reached the staircase that would lead him down to the resting place of the aforementioned man. He hadn't been given a proper burial, no rest for the wicked, he inwardly snickered at the thought, the man had been just that, wicked, vain and deceitful in his plans. But Marik didn't care, he'd technically used his to get what he had planned to do, the two of them were as bad as each other making them seem like a team. The darkness engulfed him yet was quickly vanquished as he lit the torch in the passageway, its flame illuminating the area. In front of him was an empty room except for a tablet in which he had carved the man's name, a collection of letters still in their envelopes scattered around the base. "I'm back," he choked out, walking forth to place the new one beside those of old, "Happy birthday," he whispered, turning to head out, he daren't stay too long otherwise he would be deduced to nothing but a wreck.
"He'd be twenty-two now," a deep voice spoke, startled Marik froze in his spot,
"What…" the sound escaped from his lips before he could stop it,
"Ryou, he'd be twenty-two now, he's the same age as you surprisingly. Though the two of you act nothing alike despite both being through similar experiences; maybe the fact you spent the first years of your childhood trapped under ground." Anger began to boil inside him, who dare read that letter; he spun back around and stumbled backwards at the sight. A tanned man in his early twenties, same as Marik, sat upon one of the stone pillars inside the makeshift tomb, a vibrant red cloak draped over his shoulders exposing his toned abdomen and a linen cloth draped around his lower body. Marik's eyes travelled over the man's appearance, dark grey hair rested atop his head, deep purple eyes staring at him, a strange scar nestled just beneath the right.
"Who're you; you're not allowed t read those, they're for Bakura!" the man chuckled and threw his head back, that laugh…
"Then I'm allowed to aren't I? Marik Ishtar," the man smirked at him and Marik stood his ground,
"Is that suppose to convince me you're Bakura? I sign those letters with my name." his tone had become abrupt, any sadness that rested within him was now replaced with frustration,
"You sign them with Marik not Marik Ishtar, how else would I know your name not to mention Ryou and his age if I weren't Bakura?" the man continued to bore the smirk upon his lips as he leapt off the pillar and onto the ground,
"You can't be him he's…" Marik still couldn't bring himself to say it, he'd managed to spit out the name in rage but couldn't stomach to say the truth about Bakura,
"Dead? You always found a better way of saying it in these, 'passed on', 'traversed to the other side', 'entered your secondary life', I was surprised Marik. You couldn't gain all the Egyptian god cards but you manage to come up with so many euphemisms."
"Euphe-what?" the man, now standing directly in front of him, chuckled at him, a flicker of memory passing over his eyes, "It is you isn't it?" Marik found himself smiling at his own words, his heart feeling strained as whether to be depressed or overjoyed at the fact.
"It is, sorry I don't appear the same, I had to have my body back rather than Ryou's, I hope you don't mind." Without thinking he flung his arms around the man, the embrace he was returned sealing his hopes, this was Bakura. The way he held Marik was the way Bakura always did, gently avoiding the harsh parts of his tattoo to prevent causing him pain, only Bakura had been given the opportunities to memorise the patterns (other than Ishizu and Odion obviously).
"How can you still be here though?" he whispered,
"Something's keeping me here, I think that something is the one who leaves me letters every now and then. It's nice to know I'm thought of," Bakura spoke, his breath passing down Marik's back making him shiver,
"So Ryou doesn't think of you?" Marik queried, Bakura smiling weakly at the question,
"Occasionally, not enough to write to me as you do though. He keeps his letters for his mother and Amane," Marik could only nod, still dumbfounded over the fact Bakura was still there, standing before him and actually speaking not through some mind link or whispered voices in the air, he was real. "You should head off and stop gawking at me, Ishizu will wonder where you are for so long," the familiar smirk greeting him once more,
"Hah," he scoffed, "She's watching TV, I doubt she cares too much but you're right I suppose. Apparently it's going to be windy tonight; I wouldn't want to get caught up in that." The pair laughed as though he'd cracked a joke, "Look Bakura, promise me something though," the thief nodded, his expression shifting to a more serious appearance, "Don't leave. Stay here so when I return I can see you again, promise me?" Bakura smiled and took a hold of Marik's hand to shake it,
"I promise you, and when you die I swear to Ra that I'll find you and we can 'transcend to the otherworld' together," Marik felt the prickle of a tear begin in his right eye and tried his hardest to will it away, Bakura leant forward pressing his lips to Marik's cheek ridding the skin of the salty water,
"Promise." Marik whispered to which Bakura nodded, the two sharing one final hug before he departed on his way back home feeling more relieved than he had in so many years.