Hello there people! This was sort of random, and I know I should have been writing some chapters, but some of them are with my Beta so I don't want to edit them until she's done.

Until then, you'll have to entertain yourselves with some see-it-if-you-squint Bronzeshipping.

"Heads or tails?" I ask.

My omote is sat on the edge of the bed, shiny copper coin in hand. His voice is sweet and hollow and fabulously lewd; his skin is gold in the light from the second-hand bedside lamp. I can hear the sounds of the city outside, but I try not to be distracted or he might think I'm not interested and leave.

When you see the whites of his eyes, you know that he isn't listening. He's looking the other way.

"Mariku!"

He looks back at me. I smile to myself. He doesn't smile, just watches me, but I can't complain. It is so rare that I am alone with the darkness, without any variation of Bakura to distract him; unless of course, that was who he was thinking about. My jealousy is profound, but I don't think he notices. This is bittersweet, as is everything concerning Mariku.

If I could, I would hide him away, if only to keep him from the world. He is grotesquely enchanting; everyone wants him.

Jealousy. My omote is full of it. Bubbling over. It burns him so he can't feel anything else.

"Heads or tails?" I repeat. I hold the coin up to the light so he can see it. He only sees things if you wave them in his face.

Perfectly unobservant.

I already saw the coin. I can see that he doesn't want to play. Nothing he does is a game.

"What's the difference?"

"If you win, you get to decide. If I win," I pause...

He licks his lips. Intentionally?

"...I get to decide."

"Decide what?" he says. Like he doesn't already know.

"What we do tonight." I say. I don't particularly care what we do tonight, but I'm hoping he'll surprise me with something. Something I could never have come up with.

The Mariku I like to see is the one I don't recognise. In him I see myself frequently, as is to be expected, but also flashes of others. One thing I've noticed is that he distinctly lacks the wicked cunning that I have, and always have, possessed. He doesn't like to hide things. He prefers yelling them at the top of his lungs, and daring you to disagree with his black-purple-white hypnotic dartboard eyes and his indecently deranged laugh.

Now he's thinking, because he's stopped trying to hide the fact that he's staring at me. He's gazing at a space just above my shoulder, and there's nothing interesting there. I know. I checked.

"I don't want to win. I want you to choose."

"Don't be stupid, that ruins the game." He says, looking annoyed that I stole his lovely reverie. I don't like decisions; I like doing what I'm told. The others don't mind that. In fact, they like it. They much prefer it to Malik who can't keep his mouth shut. But Omote always wants me to choose.

I think he just likes seeing me squirm.

He's like a maggot on a slide when you ask him to choose. It's hilarious.

Oh well. I'm only a copy.

Poor stupid boy.

I push him off the bed. He squeals.

"What the hell, Mariku!"

He leans over the edge of the bed, laughing. He lets his hands trail onto the floor. Damn him, he always manages to catch me off guard. It's like he can read my mind, and knows when I'm not waiting for him to do something. I look straight into his eyes and flip the coin.

Punishment.

He watches intently, like a cat with its eyes trained on a helpless fledgling, as I catch the coin and cover it with one hand.

"Heads!" he cries, forgetting momentarily that we are playing a game of decisions.

"Right you are, Mariku. Heads."

His face falls.

"Surprise me, Mariku."

Malik wouldn't like me if I didn't surprise him. So I do. Even though it's one o'clock and I'm tired; the others didn't leave until twelve because first one said we should play strip poker and then we watched a horror that I can't remember and Malik made popcorn, which the scary one threw everywhere just when that man exploded. Malik and the first one both screamed. I laughed, lots.

I can't remember how long I spent picking popcorn off the floor, but I know it was too long. That might explain why I am exhausted and have a backache.

Well, there are other possible explanations, I suppose. But who cares? I'm still waiting for Mariku to decide.

"Come on then! It's late, Mariku. I'm tired. If you want to do something, we have to do it now."

"I don't know." He looks more frightened than can possibly be healthy. I mean, he lives with me, for God's sake, yet he treats me like I'm some abusive exorcist.

"I like talking..." he says unsurely.

What does he want me to say?

"This isn't talking, Mariku. This is me nagging you and you giving me annoying three word answers."

"That's not nice."

"See?"

"Sorry."

"You've been demoted to one, Mariku. Try again. How about four?"

"I love you, Omote."

"What?"

There is a horrible, awkward silence that lasts too long.

Why did he have to say that, out of all the things he could have said? It's like he knows. He truly knows.

I think he hasn't heard me.

"I love you, O-"

"I heard what you said." He spits. He sounds angry.

I must have hurt his feelings. Oops.

"Sorry, Omote."

He says nothing. He's looking at his feet now. Look at me, stupid. I'm talking to you.

Is he lying? Well, if he is I've no one to blame but myself for teaching him how.

"Sorry."

"Don't lie, Mariku. Since when are you sorry about anything?"

Wait, what? Why is he angrier?

"In all these years, I never once heard you apologise to me." He hisses like a cornered animal. "Not even for what you did at Battle City."

"That's because I didn't do anything. I only did what you wanted me to do."

"That's lies!"

It isn't lies. But I will never admit it.

"It isn't lies! I never lie to you, Omote. Why can't you do the same for me?" He says, with both venom and a desperation I have never heard from him.

At that moment, I realise.

He isn't me. I don't know him anymore.

I have lost him completely.

I want to cry, but I don't.

Mariku is watching. Just watching.

He is silent. I preferred the shouting, even though it was at me.

At that moment, I decide. For Omote.

"Let's try again." I pick up the coin from where it is lying, tucked between the pillowcase and the blue duvet.

He picks up something.

"Heads or tails?" I ask.

By the way, by 'maggot on a slide' I meant a slide under a microscope, not a "Wheee!" playground-type slide.

Anyhoo, I hope that wasn't obscenely OOC. Thanks for reading, and I told you the Bronzeshipping wasn't obvious.

Kal277 x