Ningen

Summary: (Prequel to Ningyo) Bakura, a corrupt physician, finds himself drawn to one of the servers from a popular cafe, the sweet yet stubborn Malik. However, a violent murder sets off a series of events that causes their lives to slowly unravel.

Rated: T

Genre: Romance/Drama

Author's Note: Phew, I managed to get this out before spring semester started! I'm going to try my damndest to get Chapter Six out before January 25, but if I don't, then…well, then I won't. But at least I'll have a good chunk of it done!

Disclaimer: Yuugiou and all related characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi.

-

5 – House of Cards

Bakura locked his car door with an annoyingly high pitched chirp, the headlights flashing twice to further signal that it was now safe and sound. Privately, he wondered when automobile technology would become advanced enough so that cars could do more than honk and blare once an unruly thief managed to force his way inside. The ridiculous schematics of the old Transformers cartoon suddenly came to mind; it would be rather amusing to witness someone being manhandled by a broken down Volkswagen. He then dismissed the thought with a shake of his head as he attempted to pull an oversized trench coat over his shoulders.

Ever since either of his siblings could remember, Bakura always had a skilled hand when it came to any kind of machinery; whether it was creating simple toys to entertain Amane, or taming Ryou's misbehaving laptop, their elder brother would always find some ingenious way to solve the problem. Granted, some of his solutions danced along the lines of illegal, but the results were almost always worth the risk. Again, they were almost always worth the risk.

Bakura walked up the familiar pebble studded pathway that led to his front door, shooing away the neighbor's obese grey cat. The hefty feline often prowled around their garden at night, probably in search of one of the many squirrels Amane had insisted on 'rescuing'. Fortunately, the small rodents managed to escape before the young Kagami managed to smother them with misplaced love. The cat mewed in irritation and attempted to steal away into the night; Bakura thought it looked more like a swollen water balloon rolling sluggishly down a slight incline. He chuckled lowly, inserting his house key into their lock and giving it a firm twist.

Upon entering his living room, the young doctor could hear the low rumble of dramatic orchestrated music blaring from their plasma television. Ryou had been hesitant about letting Bakura purchase something so needlessly luxurious, but upon experiencing its theatre-like sound capabilities, the younger twin instantly fell in love with the pricy device; he hadn't lived an afternoon away from it.

Ryou was seated comfortably on their worn leather couch, allowing himself to sink into its soft cushions. A half eaten pouch of popcorn was propped in between his legs, the strangely alluring scent of powered butter wafting through the room. It wasn't until Bakura dropped his messenger back onto their kitchen table that his younger brother noticed his arrival.

"Oh, Bakura! You're home early, huh?" He smiled. "Looks like someone can't wait to start their four day vacation!"

"My evening out was cut a little short," his brother replied, sounding a bit disgruntled. "Where's Amane?"

"She's sleeping over at a friend's house for the weekend."

"So then I guess I'll give these to you," Bakura smirked, tossing Ryou a small satchel of peanut butter cookies. They were bundled in a lilac cellophane wrapper, tied closed with an ornate pink bow. "Courtesy of the Honey Milk Café."

"You went back to that place?"

"I was invited," he corrected, undoing his scarf. "And service was on the house, so before you start screeching about wasting money–"

"Invited?" Ryou scoffed, sampling one of the treats. "You mean one of those guiltless hosts actually liked being verbally belittled?"

"Well, not everyone can get a job as a cashier Ryou," Bakura said scathingly. "You have to do what you have to in order to make a living. And it's not as bad as you're making it out to be either–you aren't even allowed to touch any of them."

The younger twin noticed a tinge of disappointment in his voice. "So which one invited you? That busty blonde with the caked on makeup?"

"You wouldn't know."

"I had a pretty good look at all of them while I was in there," Ryou insisted, hating himself for finding the cookies so delicious. "Try me."

"His name's Malik."

"Physical description if you wouldn't mind; I didn't memorize their name tags."

"Uh…well they're all blonde…he's got dark skin, wears his hair in a kind of loose ponytail?"

"…The one with doll eyes."

"Sorry?" Bakura started, looking at his brother curiously.

"He's the one with the doll eyes, right?" Ryou repeated, turning to face Bakura. "I saw him while I was leaving that night; he was throwing away some garbage."

"I've never heard that term before."

"Well there's no other way to describe it," he shrugged. "They're sort of dead looking, don't you think? I mean I only saw them for a split second and I'd gotten the chills. I've no idea how you can deal with them for so long."

"I try to focus on what's under them," Bakura answered, beginning to make a fresh pot of coffee. "He's got the oddest scars underneath them, but he's trying to play them off as tattoos." He turned the processor on, filling their kitchen with the smell of hazelnut. "I'm going to try and slip him up the next time I see him; his step brother is one of my patients, that 'miracle' one I was telling you about."

"Small world," Ryou commented, changing the channel. "Pour me a cup too please?"

"Sugar?"

"Of course."

"You think it's weird that I'm so hung up on this don't you," the elder twin said with slight disdain.

"A touch," he admitted. "But being surrounded by the ill everyday has to have some side effects I suppose."

"…Do you think they could be caused by an illness?"

"What? The scars?"

"The doll eyes…maybe he's legally blind or something."

"Ask him if he finds you attractive; if he says yes, then most definitely."

"You do know that we look exactly alike, don't you?" Bakura growled, retrieving two teacups from an overhead cupboard.

"It was worth it," Ryou smirked. "But honestly, I don't know. I think they're creepy that's for sure; but it may just be from genetics or something." He paused, looking up thoughtfully. "Do you have a mental ward in your hospital?"

"We do. Why?"

"You know, they say when someone sees something that's emotionally traumatizing, you can usually read it in their eyes," he advised. "Maybe you should ask one of your psychiatrist friends. Oh, but you don't really have any 'friends' do you?"

"The doctors who work the mental ward aren't all there themselves," Bakura snorted, making sure to pour extra cream into Ryou's cup. "They play Sudoku during their lunch breaks; they actually find that sort of thing fun."

"Well what do you do?"

"I eat, as that is what lunch time is for. How many teaspoons of sugar?"

"Three," Ryou said promptly. "It still wouldn't hurt to ask; what's the worse that could happen? If it's really bothering you this much then information from a professional should prove to be more satisfying than just looking it up on the Internet, you know?"

"I'll do it on Wednesday," Bakura sighed tiredly, passing his brother the lighter, sweeter cup of coffee. "All I'm really concerned about right now is not waking up until midday tomorrow."

"That shouldn't be too hard," the other giggled, taking a tentative sip. "Ooh, hot."

Both twins sat quietly on the couch, watching, but not really seeing whatever was on the television screen. Ryou had been watching a late night documentary on the French Revolution before Bakura had stepped in, but had since changed it to their local news channel. Right now, they were on their 'World News' segment, a continuing story on the growing tensions between Kyoto and Osaka. The possibility of a full blown civil war was all but certain. It was a shame really; Ryou had been planning to ask Bakura if they might be able to fly to Kyoto over the summer to 'reconnect' with their parents' beloved homeland.

"I wonder how Amane's doing," the younger twin mused, rubbing his pinky across the rim of the cup. "Maybe I should call and check up on her?"

"If you want the rest of the girls at the party to point and laugh at her, then go right ahead Ryou."

"Why would they make fun of her? Because she has family members that actually care about what she's doing?"

"Call and find out."

"…Nevermind then," Ryou pouted, attention returning to the television.

"Amane says her friends think we're hot." Bakura remembered suddenly for some odd reason.

"That's…good."

At that exact moment, a familiar melody rang from Bakura's back pocket.

"Your phone is ringing," Ryou said quietly, his mouth covered by an overstuffed pillow. "Maybe it's Amane…oh, but that's not her ring, is it?"

"Wouldn't know; I don't hear anything," his sibling replied, eyes closed.

"You'd better answer it."

"It feels like we've had this discussion before."

"That's because you never want to do your job," Ryou mumbled, giving Bakura a firm poke. "Answer it."

A disgruntled whine was his only response.

"Bakura–"

"I'm on vacation."

"That's not an excuse. Answer it!"

"No!"

"I really don't want to get into another argument, please–"

"This better be fucking important," Bakura hissed, finally succumbing to his twin's demands. "If you hadn't checked that gigantic white board hovering over your tornado stricken desk, I'm on vacation! That means leave me the fuck alone until I come back! Honestly, that's the only thing the hospital puts you in charge of! If you can't even manage to handle that then you can kiss your dreams of passing this internship good–"

"Mr. Kagami, there's someone in our waiting room who wanted to see one of your patients," the voice on the line said calmly, totally unfazed by his outburst. "Should I let her in? It's already well past visiting hours."

"Which patient?" he asked, trying very hard not to hang up.

"Rishid Ishtar."

"Malik's visiting again?"

"It's not him, it's some woman–"

"Let me talk to her," Bakura grumbled giving Ryou an annoyed look; his twin stifled a giggle. "I swear our interns have about as much common sense as a chicken with its head cut off."

"Don't be mean," the other chided, enjoying his coffee. "You should be happy that they trust you so much."

The young doctor rolled his eyes and waited as the phone was passed around, all the while, drumming his fingers on Ryou's lap.

"Hello?" A new voice, strong and somewhat solemn, entered the line.

"Who is this?" Bakura asked.

"My name is Isis Ishtar; I-I was wondering if it was still possible to see my stepbrother. I know visiting hours are over, but I've just arrived from Egypt and I had no idea it would be this late."

Mahogany eyes widened slightly. So this woman was the infamous sister who hadn't spoken to her siblings in over twelve years. Judging by the way she spoke, he assumed she was more like Rishid in personality than she was Malik, meaning that the blonde must have been quite the dark horse when the family was still together. She'd also said she just flew in from Egypt…guess a certain someone never told her Rishid wasn't about to kick the bucket.

'Rishid doesn't want her coming over, ever.' Malik had said, looking rather confused himself. 'He says it would ruin the nice sibling dynamic we have…whatever it is.'

So which Ishtar brother was responsible Isis's lack of information?

This whole thing was getting very interesting.

"Doctor?" She said unsurely.

"Go ahead," he replied, closing his eyes. Rishid's reaction was going to be absolutely priceless; but would he be happy to see her? "Tell them I said you can take as long as you'd like; just don't get in anyone's way, alright? Oh; and tell them not to call me unless someone's dying. Seriously."

"I will," Isis laughed, though it sounded a bit forced. "Th-Thank you very much doctor."

"No problem."

Bakura waited for the tell-tale click before ending the call.

"Glad to see you've calmed down," Ryou commented, his cup almost empty. "You know, you kind of spaced out for a little while; what happened?"

"Nothing important."

"Is that so?"

"Either way, it's none of your business; doctor/patient confidentiality and all that," Bakura shrugged, finally taking a sip of his coffee. "…"

"Cold?" His twin said sympathetically.

The young doctor threw his cell phone across the room in response.

-

Mariku's hand trembled slightly as he played the first few notes, producing a softer, more tender melody than he had originally intended. He played around with the keys for a while, experimenting with the 'song' before a rather sad, yet still somehow uplifting tune gradually emerged. After establishing the base, he tentatively began adding a few bold chords into the mix, all the while increasing the strength and intensity of the original melody. There were a few times when the song fell back into the barely audible notes from where it began, but those were quickly forgotten amidst the overall feeling of grandeur. Mariku finally got into the swing of things as the song was nearing its end, his key strikes becoming more confident, the melody more lively; no trace of sadness was left as he ended, a careless strum of notes being his signature 'finishing move' as some had jokingly coined.

All the while, Malik lay quietly on the couch, eyes half closed. Rarely did Mariku ever play anything so beautiful; usually the over pierced blonde attacked the piano keys with so much gusto that he tended to make more noise than music. But when he actually sat down and attempted to take things seriously, as opposed to treating it like a very expensive toy, the results never failed to take Malik's breath away.

Mariku heard a faint rustle behind him and lazily began to play the piece again, taking care to remember each key that was hit.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked, turning to face the svelte blonde.

"I was just resting my eyes," Malik replied sheepishly, tying his hair back with an always ready ribbon.

"I didn't know that people could snore while doing that…"

"I-I don't snore!"

"Yeah…one of these nights I'm going to set up a tape recorder before we go to sleep to prove that you… Oh," a look of apprehension briefly crossed his face, "but what if we pick up weird ghost noise…"

"G-Ghost noise?"

"Yeah, I've read about it before," Mariku continued, dead serious. "There was this guy in Ireland who wanted to show his wife that she burped the alphabet in the every night when she slept, but when he checked the tape the next morning, all he could hear was a child's voice whispering…"

"What was it saying?" Malik asked fearfully, eyes wide.

"Malik, you don't actually believe this do you?" The other blinked, face deadpan.

"Uh…n-no?"

Malik blushed a very faint pink and looked away embarrassedly. Okay, so maybe he did…just a little…

"So are you ever going to tell my why you kidnapped me?" he said finally, attempting to change the subject. "Or should I conveniently forget?"

"I was going to tell you as soon as we got home," Mariku scoffed, "but you looked like you were about to collapse."

"Well, I've learned that being sleepy and riding with you don't exactly mix."

"You've been tired a lot lately…"

"Yeah, I've noticed that too," he agreed, stifling a yawn. "We should really set aside one day a week where all we do is lie in bed and drink."

"I think those are called Tuesdays."

"…Oh yeah."

Mariku gave a low chuckle. It really was amazing; despite the heavy burden weighing in the back of his mind, Malik still managed to lighten the mood with his deceptively innocent banter. He knew that his rather manipulative housemate tended to 'play cute' whenever he wanted to avoid talking about something, even if he didn't know what that something was going to be. Though it didn't take a genius to figure out that Mariku wasn't about to deliver good news; after all, you didn't barge into someone's workplace and abduct them out of the blue to tell them good news. He still wasn't exactly sure how he wanted to tell Malik about everything; initially, he had only planned to reveal the straight facts.

He owed the street gang, DOMA, a large sum of money. If he didn't get them that money, then they would go after Malik. After their meeting that afternoon, it was established that Mariku wouldn't be able to get them that money; therefore, because of the aforementioned threat, he was never going to let Malik out of his sight. Ever.

But he knew that additional questions would be inevitable. Why had he borrowed the money? Wasn't he already filthy rich? Did he have any other dealings with DOMA?

There was an odd squeak that brought Mariku out of his reverie; he looked towards the couch to find Malik in yet another sneezing fit. The small blonde had always been somewhat sensitive to cold weather and was very prone to catching colds. Mariku had phoned his mother for a vegetable stew recipe that she regularly made for them as children; he could have sworn Malik almost cried when he served it to him.

"Excuse you," he smirked, powering the keyboard down.

"That isn't what you're supposed to say," Malik sniffed. "So come on, spill; what's going on Mariku?"

"Before I say, I need to ask you something. I won't ask for an explanation, I just want a simple yes or no answer, got it?"

"Sounds fun," the other agreed, draping himself over the couch's arm. "Shoot."

"Would you ever leave me? Under any circumstances?"

"No," he answered without so much as a second thought, expression unchanged.

"Is that the truth?"

"Mariku, when I told you I'd be willing to help you hide a body, I meant it," Malik scoffed, closing his eyes. "Incidentally, if that's what all this is about, then it really could have waited until I got off work."

'There it is again,' Mariku thought, moving towards the couch. 'He always so calm when he talks about stuff like that…'

"That's not it though, is it?" he continued, making space for the other blonde. "It's got something to do with us. And judging by your last question, it's probably something that you think I wouldn't approve of."

"Very perceptive, you."

"It's a curse really."

"Alright then, I'm going to stop beating around the bush," Mariku sighed loudly, slumping onto another mound of pillows, sitting face to face with Malik. "I've gotten into some trouble with DOMA."

"DOMA? You mean that street gang that hangs out in Downtown?"

"I don't think any other organization would have such a stupid name," he shrugged.

"What happened?"

"Well…before my dad died, I was kind of–"

"Careless? Naïve? Stupid?"

"Stop helping," Mariku said crossly. "I was an unofficial member."

"Unofficial?" Malik repeated, raising a flaxen eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the membership fee or something?"

"…Sort of?"

"What do you mean 'sort of'?"

"Look; when I got out of high school all I had for transportation was my dad's ancient clunker and some weird electric scooter. Dad had a thing for public transportation, said it was the only thing that helped him feel connected to 'the little people.' I, on the other hand, was already very familiar with 'the little people'; so much so that I knew that if anyone saw me driving either of those 'vehicles', I'd be laughed at from now until the day I died."

"This 'little person' wouldn't have laughed…"

"Yeah, one out of a billion," he said scathingly, rolling his eyes. "So, one day, I walked past that bike shop at the corner of 3rd and 4th street–"

"Isn't that where you got your motorcycle?" Malik asked interestedly.

"Yes," Mariku said hesitantly, suddenly averting his gaze. "But…my dad wouldn't buy it for me. He said I would just add to the noise pollution."

"So how'd you…?"

"Well, I'd heard rumors that DOMA lending out money in exchange for a few months of 'service'; so I tracked one of their members down and asked him point blank if they'd make the deal with me…and…"

"How much was the bike?" the smaller blonde gasped.

"About eight thousand…"

"How much did they give you?"

"I asked for ten." Mariku answered unflinchingly. The rest had been used to purchase front row seats at a certain concert.

"And to get that you had to…?"

"Get my fingerprints on a few packs of cocaine…help hide some plants…you know. The usual. B-But I didn't kill anyone!" he added quickly.

"Wh-What? How could you even–!"

"Hey, I got my bike, didn't I?"

"Mariku, you…you got mixed up in all this because of that bike?"

"I was eighteen!"

"And rich!"

"You know, having money doesn't mean much if you aren't allowed to do anything with it!"

"That's– You're completely missing the point! When normal people can't afford something that they want, they work for it!"

"Malik, sweetie," Mariku cooed mockingly, "what on earth would you know about 'normal people'?"

"Meaning what?"

"What do you think?"

"You know what, forget it," Malik sighed, throwing a pillow at the other's face. "So because you were an impatient, spoiled brat who wanted a shiny new toy, you made a deal with the most infamous street gang in Los Angeles for some quick cash." Lilac eyes narrowed. "And let me guess; you still haven't paid them back, have you?"

"I have, actually. The only problem is that now they're asking for interest."

"Interest? For the love of–"

"And if I can't get them that money, they said they'd go after you."

"Me? What the hell do I have to do with any of this?" Malik exclaimed.

"Guilty by association, love. They've been tracking your for some time now; at work, at school…hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they were watching us right now."

"Please tell me you've called the police!"

"Malik, I used to deal drugs with these people! If they go to jail, I go to jail!"

The small blonde suddenly looked very apprehensive. Mariku would be locked up? But that would mean he'd have to go away! He didn't want that...he didn't want to be left all alone…

"Then what should we do?" Malik said finally, still very shaken. "I don't want to have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life."

'Wait…that's it?' The other thought, surprised. 'No threats to leave, no slap in the face…not even a decent tongue lashing?'

"What do you suppose we should do?" Mariku asked, throwing the pillow back. "You're the only one I've told about my time in DOMA; my father never found out and Mahaado was too self absorbed to notice (not to mention he'd rat me out in a heartbeat); I've got no one else to go to!"

"You don't need anyone else," Malik replied, grabbing his hands. "You've got me on your side, yeah? I've got a lot more in me than you give me credit for."

"Like what?"

"A squeaky clean record! Just give me the word Mariku; I'll find the snake that's been spying on us and–"

"I am not going to let you kill anyone on my account!"

"Well I'm not going to let anyone hurt you on mine!"

"Me? Malik, did you miss the part where I told you that it was your head they're after?"

"It may be my head on the line, but they're really going after your heart," Malik spat back, a blush staining his cheeks. "As horrible and cliché as that sounds, that's their main objective, and it seems like it's gone right over your head!"

"I can deal with hurt feelings Malik–!"

"But I can't die knowing that I've hurt you!"

Mariku paused, plum eyes wide. All this time Malik had been worried for his sake? Why? How? How could anyone accept news like that so easily? Why wasn't he scared for his own life? It wasn't natural! None of this made any sense!

"What is wrong with you?" he gaped, getting off the couch. "I got you into this! All of this is my fault! For the love of God! Get mad, throw something, hit me, bite me, leave me, DO SOMETHING!"

"I am! I'm going to help you Mariku!"

"Why are you being so fucking forgiving? You bite Rishid's head off for wanting to include his doctor on his damn will, and after I get your name on DOMA's hit list, all you do is throw a pillow at me. There's a slight imbalance there, don't you think?"

"Mariku, before I met you, I was living life in a plastic bubble; all that mattered to me were grades and homework, I-I had no social life to speak of, and all of my friends were teachers! TEACHERS Mariku! Even I felt sorry for myself! I couldn't do a thing on my own; Rishid would phone the hospital if I so much as broke a nail! It was borderline psychotic! I had no freedom! Winning that concert ticket was the best thing that could have ever happened to me; deciding to talk to you was the best decision I'd ever made! I'm not about to let some five year old mistake mess this all up!"

"That's all very sweet, but we're talking about life and death here!"

"No, this is about getting them away from us!"

"It isn't us, it's you!"

"It's us!"

"No it isn't!"

"Yes it is!"

The elder blonde growled in frustration, "You know, arguing with you is like throwing rocks at a trampoline!"

Malik looked up, tears welling at the corners of his strange eyes. With a loud sob, he raised his hand and struck Mariku across the face; the other blonde didn't have more than a second to brace for the stinging hit, and was left with a throbbing, sizeable red imprint.

"Get this through your thick skull, you stupid idiot! I love you, and I'll do whatever the hell I want to help you out of this shithole you've gotten yourself into; GOT IT?"

Mariku held a hand to his cheek and nodded silently; touched, stunned, and in a miraculous amount of pain.

-

When Rishid woke up in the middle of the night to find his sister sitting quietly by his bedside, he genuinely thought that he had somehow managed to pass away.

"I-Isis?"

The young woman smiled encouragingly and nodded, her teal eyes filling with tears. Long dark hair fell over her shoulders, slightly damp from the light drizzle outside; she was a little more bundled up than one would expect, though it understandable, as she was unaccustomed to the temperamental Los Angeles climate.

"Long time no see," she grinned, suppressing a sob and waving shyly. "H-How are you feeling?"

"What are you doing here?" Rishid exclaimed, now fully awake. He glanced at the large digital clock at his bedside; it was barely two in the morning.

"I thought that you were dead, or dying at least," Isis shrugged, still wearing a weak smile. "I was pleasantly surprised to see that wasn't the case."

"Well I'm not completely cured, there are still some tests they need to run and I'm under constant watch, but… Didn't the doctor mention anything?"

"He'd only contacted me once, telling me that you didn't have much longer; other than that, I hadn't heard from him. I suppose he didn't want the hospital to be charged for another long distance call." She laughed quietly. "He was the one who allowed me to visit you so late. I was so grateful."

"Doctor Kagami is an amazing man," Rishid agreed, sitting up. "I was going to include him in my will, but…well, certain things prevented me from doing so."

"Oh really?"

"It's too much to explain," he said tiredly, rubbing his temple. "Maybe some other time. So. How have you been?"

"Busy with this and that," Isis replied indifferently, pulling a face. "I mean, what else can I say? At first it was rather exhilarating to share my knowledge with all the visitors, but after a while it finally dawned on me that tourists were only interested in hearing about the Curse of King Tutankhamen and all that nonsense." She sighed. "When will the general public learn to appreciate the beautiful simplicity of ancient papyrus?"

"When all the televisions and theatres in the world simultaneously stop working."

"Of course."

The pair spent a while trying to find other topics to talk about, clearly enjoying one another's much missed company. Rishid had found out that Isis was currently in a long term relationship with someone who she refused to name, obviously embarrassed. He found this oddly amusing considering that his sister was well into her early thirties, though he remembered her to be painfully shy regarding things like that. In turn, Isis found out that Rishid had been working as a mechanic prior to being hospitalized; he admitted than it didn't make much, but still enjoyed doing it simply because he found it fun.

But it was clear to both that they were trying their very best to avoid mentioning the youngest Ishtar sibling; Isis looked as if she couldn't wait for Rishid to slip up, but in turn, her stepbrother was being very careful not to. If she wanted to talk about Malik, then she would have to bring the subject up herself.

"…And so they finally managed to find the boy who had scribbled all over the tablet's display case," Isis chuckled, her cheeks a very light pink. "His mother was livid! We didn't press any charges of course, but it was just so funny!"

"Well, boys will be boys," Rishid smiled, knowing exactly what was coming next.

"Hee…do you remember that time Malik accidentally spilled paint all over that tapestry we used to have?" She continued, looking at him expectantly. "He was so cute when he was trying to apologize…I think he even started to wipe it around with a paper towel. Adorable."

"Do you remember what father did to him after he found out a few days later?" her brother replied, his face grim. "That wasn't very 'adorable'."

"Rishid!" Isis said disapprovingly, eyes narrowing. "Was that really necessary? I was only–"

"Oh come on Isis, you were totally baiting me."

"I wasn't!"

"Please. I could tell halfway through our conversation that you couldn't wait to ask me something about Malik."

"There isn't anything wrong with that," she replied defensively. "He is our little brother after all; it's only natural that I'd want to ask how he's doing."

"Then you should have just done so instead of beating around the bush (rather poorly I might add)." Rishid sighed, folding his hands onto his lap. "So?"

"So what?"

"Ask away. What do you want to know about him?"

Isis looked away briefly, her emotions mounting to a fever pitch. She hadn't seen either Rishid or Malik in twelve years and her mind was buzzing with nothing but uncertainty. She was confident that Rishid would manage well enough without her, but poor Malik was only eight when she had left them. There was so much she had missed while she was away; his first crush, his first day of high school, his graduation… Those were moments that only happened once in a lifetime, and she would never have the privilege to ever see them. Steadying her breath, she carefully chose her first question.

"D-Does he remember anything about…that night?"

"No," Rishid answered, shaking his head. "Not at all. He remembers what happened before mind you, but…"

"He still thinks it was–?"

"Yes."

"Oh thank goodness," Isis breathed, an enormous weight lifting from her shoulders. "I was so worried something might have happened."

"Nope; everything's been running smoothly."

"So…my leaving was really necessary after all, wasn't it?"

"Well it certainly made some things much easier," he replied, looking guilty. "How was it for you?"

"Horrible for the first year," she said, her voice strained. "It's still horrible, actually, knowing what we'd done to him. …B-But it was for his own good, wasn't it?"

"Hey…it's not like he's miserable, you know? Right now he's living in this huge loft with his boyfriend; who would've thought that the first guy he chose to go steady with would be an heir to the Inanna family's fortune? He's been living the good life."

"He…has a boyfriend?"

"We both saw it coming," Rishid chuckled. "He's too pretty for his own good."

"I wouldn't know," she laughed sadly, tears returning. "I haven't seen him since I'd left. Would you happen to have a picture of him?"

"There should be a few on my phone," he said, gesturing to his old clothes; they hadn't been worn in over half a year.

Isis retrieved the small device excitedly, immediately enlarging the first thumbnail that held a flash of light blonde. The attractive, innocent face of Malik Ishtar came into view, paired with the dark fur of a small dog that he held in his arms. Rishid explained that he had taken the photograph while they were at a local pet store; Malik became infatuated with a black Pomeranian puppy he had seen from the window and had begged to go inside so they could play with it for a while.

Rishid had never seen him so happy.

Isis switched to the next photograph, this one picturing Malik with his back towards the setting sun; after noticing the palm trees, she guessed this was taken at somewhere on a beach boardwalk.

"He's adorable," she cooed, placing a hand over her mouth. "Oh…he's all grown up."

"Looks can be deceiving," Rishid snorted. "He's developed a bit of an attitude."

"Well you can't blame him for that."

"…I know."

Suddenly, Isis looked very troubled, her eyes glued onto one particular feature of her brother's face. Once again, his pale, chilling irises stole the show, distracting her from everything else. She was one of the few people lucky enough to know how Malik's eyes had once looked; needless to say they were nowhere close to the empty lilac orbs they had become.

"His eyes are exactly the same as they were on that night," she said quietly. "Nothing's changed…at all. Does this mean–?"

"It doesn't matter what they look like; the important thing is that he doesn't remember a thing, and that's what we wanted, right?"

"I suppose…"

"Isis."

His sister looked up, crestfallen, Malik's photo still flickering on the phone's screen.

"It'll be alright." He said reassuringly. "We can do this."

"I don't know if I can keep it from him any longer," she sighed, tears starting to spill from her eyes. "This is cruel Rishid. I know we did it to protect him, but…but he should be able to handle it now. He's old enough to–"

"Isis, you can't."

"But–"

"You can't ever tell him. He's going to college, he has friends (questionable ones, but friends nonetheless), he's got a job…he has a life. Do you really want to ruin it from him? He's happy not knowing."

Isis bit her lip, looking once again at her beloved baby brother. He had grown so much in her absence; the pudgy cheeks she had pinched in the past were all but gone, and the seemingly permanent smile on his face was replaced by a confident, yet slightly disdainful smirk. The young man peering boldly from within the screen was undoubtedly her brother, but at the same time, he was a complete stranger.

And in order to keep her promise to Rishid, she and Malik would have to remain as such. Despite wanting nothing more than to hold her brother in her arms once again, Isis knew that reappearing in Malik's life would cause more harm than good.

'We're doing this because we love him,' she reminded herself the same way she did every night before bed.

"Are you going to be alright?" Rishid asked worriedly, placing a hand on her shoulder. He could feel her trembling.

"I've lasted twelve years," she muttered under her breath, finally closing the picture. "I think I can manage a few more."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be. I agreed to this, and I'm sticking with it for as long as I must." "

She cleared her throat and dabbed at her eyes with the ends of her scarf.

"Well, anyway, I'm going to be in town for the rest of the week; I'll be staying at the Westin on Bonaventure," Isis said brightly, picking up her bag. "So if you need me, just give me a ring; Room 402."

"I'll keep that in mind," Rishid nodded.

Isis paused before exiting the room, looking over her shoulder, a noticeably defeated expression on her face. She fiddled with her purse's handle nervously.

"Could you…give Malik a hug for me the next time you see him?"

-

Okay, so I had about three different variations for Mariku and Malik's scene; one was more dramatic (but I felt it gave away a little too much), and one just made me go 'eh'. Hopefully the one I went with was satisfying enough!

I didn't mention this in the last chapter, but I'd like to give a super huge thank you to LovinTheTan and Flacks for leaving me such nice reviews in the earlier chapters; while I was working on Chapter Four, I would often reread their comments to remind myself that there were people out there who enjoy what I'm doing :3

I'd also like to thank Fiver and Shantih for reviewing and for writing such amazing stories! If you haven't already read them (Homecoming and The Breath of an Outside God respectively), go do so after you review this fic!

And finally, go onto my profile and check out my LiveJournal to find the melody that Mariku played at the beginning of their segment; if you're familiar with the song, then you can probably guess where I was originally going to take their relationship (but I didn't because I JUST COULDN'T!).

Please Review!