Rock Bottom: Season Two

Twist

"You don't think I'm too late to still have a chance at qualifying for the finals, do you?" Ryou asked anxiously as he and Marik walked back towards the city's center, having left Amane at home with his mother.

"Not at all. I'm sure there will be plenty of people still dueling. Dozens of people entered the tournament, after all. Surely they haven't eliminated each other that quickly."

"Yeah." Ryou breathed a small sigh, eyes darting around the quiet side-street nervously. The kidnapping incident had him on edge, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving him shaky and uncertain.

"Hey." Marik took Ryou's hand and pulled him to a stop, his friend turning to look at him curiously. "I'm really proud of you, Ryou. You did well in that duel, and I know it must have been hard for you."

Ryou blushed at the sudden praise, eyes modestly downcast as Marik's sudden, bright smile blinded him. Unable to resist the allure of his bashful boyfriend, Marik stepped closer and placed his hand on Ryou's cheek, angling his face slightly upwards so he could steal a small kiss. At least, he intended for it to be small and short, but when Ryou's soft lips molded to his, yielding yet eager, Marik accepted the invitation. He dropped his hand from Ryou's face so he could place both hands on his thin waist and pull him closer. Marik was never shy about being public with his displays of affection, but Ryou had taught him early on where to draw the line and why. This kiss technically violated the terms of their agreement, but they were the only ones on the sidewalk here, and Ryou wasn't complaining in the slightest.

"Ah!" Marik jerked back as searing pain ripped through his upper arm. The handle of a small knife was protruding from his arm, the sight of blood reminding him of things best forgotten. It made his stomach clench, but he truly felt nauseous when he saw a pale hand reach up to pull it out. Marik clamped a hand down over the wound, his fingers now slick with his own hot blood as he lifted his eyes to the twisted, savage features of—not Ryou, that was certain. The youth was just then turning away to shove the knife into the flower-box outside a neighbor's window. He casually dusted his hands off and turned around as the spirit returned control to his host, who gasped at once before rushing over to the Egyptian teen.

"Marik, what happened?" He reached towards the wound, then snatched his hands away. "Should I call an ambulance?"

"No, I'm fine," Marik assured with a half-hearted smile even as the color drained from his face.

"You're not fine, Marik!" Ryou snapped, too busy panicking to know what to do. When Marik started to lose his balance, though, he lurched into action, catching him and helping him sit on the ground before tying his handkerchief around the cut as tightly as he could. The pressure would help stop the bleeding. That's how that's supposed to work, right? It must have hurt when he bandaged the wound, but Marik didn't make a sound, merely grimaced in silence.

Just as Ryou was tying the final knot, his phone started ringing. He wiped his fingers on his jeans and was about to ignore the call when he saw that it was Ishizu. He answered.

"Marik's injured."

She already knew.

"Yeah..."

"Solomon will be there any moment now to take him to the hospital."

"Thank you, Ishizu." Ryou sighed in relief. Those powers of Ishizu's were quite helpful in a crisis.

"Please don't blame yourself for this, Ryou."

"Shouldn't I, though?" His voice broke. "I'm the one who left him alone and allowed this to happen."

As he grit his teeth against the pain, Marik wondered just how Ryou had perceived the incident. What explanation had the spirit planted in his friend's mind?