The Age of Shadows

3

At some point during the night, Bakura rolls over and curls up against Marik. He nuzzles against him like a baby kitten, laying his head in Marik's nape. Every so often, a small whimper escapes his lips, face scrunched up in - admittedly adorable - discomfort. The tombkeeper wonders what he's dreaming about, thinking of. What could scare the mighty thief so much he seeks the warmth of another. The fire has long since flickered to a sad ashy pit and that's why Marik lets Bakura cuddles him, he's grateful for the body heat.

At least that's his excuse.

Bakura doesn't dream much anymore. He dreams of Egypt, a longing to return. He dreams of triumph and revenge but mostly his dreams are empty. That's what scares him the most - not the nightmares of his haunting past, the ghosts of Kul Elna torturing him with bloody images of childhood trauma. What scares him, makes him seek comfort in the night and cry out in his sleep is the void where dreams used to be. The void where dreams slowly fade from as if they never existed at all. He used to dream every night, now once a week. Maybe. They become shorter and more infrequent and Bakura vows the day his dreams disappear forever will be the day he takes his own life.

Bakura feels his dreams slip away. He opens his eyes as the mild light, the tiny specs that creep through the shadows, reaches his eyes.  Bakura sits up, rubbing his head as his hair sticks to his face, fixing it into position and brushing it away from his forehead. He looks at the window where a vague shadow of Marik tends to the fire. Marik looks up, his makeup smudged and making his eyes more distinguished, like a smokey effect. Bakura blushes - he looks hot. A messy, raunchy, BladeRunner replicant kind of hot. It makes Bakura smirk, feeling the evil rise within him once more. A burst of confidence he hasn't felt in a while, like in Battle City. "Morning," Marik gestures to the fire. "I made breakfast,"

"Burned meat," Bakura observes, feeling his feet in thick socks pad on the ground.

"All you have in this house is meat," Marik mutters, making Bakura chuckle in amusement. His skinny frame crouches by the fire, watching it dance for a moment before he grabs a small hunk of steak from the pan and tears into it rabidly, spraying charcoal dust and cinders from his morsel. It doesn't matter if it's crumbling in his hands, he's so famished he can handle Marik's terrible cooking.

That isn't fair. He reminds himself. Marik was never taught household maintenance in the tombs, he has no idea how to cook or clean or do housework.

Bakura dismissively waves a knife in his direction. "You can stay here as long as you want. No need to return to those idiots,"

"Idiots?" Marik scoffs. "They're my friends Kura. Besides, Ryou threatened to curse me,"

"Oh, you don't wanna piss off Ryou when he's messing about with his occult," he reminds himself. "Okay, in that case good luck,"

"You aren't coming?!"

"Wasn't planning to," Bakura shrugs. "I haven't seen them since I returned,"

"It would be better if you come," Marik looks up at him sadly. "Please Kura. I'm more confident when I'm with you,"

"Fine," Bakura rolls his eyes. "I have no idea how you survived the apocalypse,"

They return to the school, sure to keep to light areas, sneaking through where the shadows' presence wasn't so intense. After the shadows came, it was discovered quickly that the lighter an area, even from unnatural light, the less powerful the shadows were. Pulling himself up a fence, he hauls himself through the third floor window, creeping through he steel netting and inside the building. "It's me!" He calls through, and Ryou's soft voice calls back from the upper floors.

They ascend where Ryou has set up a small ritual space. Marik's tattoo inscription lies before him along with three open occult textbooks, information highlighted in pink gel pen and transferred to other papers in neat little writing of the same colour. Bakura grins - it's a very Ryou approach to ancient rituals. "You never did change, did you?"

Ryou gives him a small smile, behind which a broken person tries. It's forced. The positivity is forced too. Obligation to shine a beacon of light in the darkness of despair, only Ryou outs that obligation on himself. It isn't helpful to anyone. "Okay Marik, can you translate?"

Marik kneels by the inscription and translates from hieroglyphs to Japanese letters, adding accents to help Ryou with pronunciation. "Thanks!" he nods to Marik, gathering his papers and sealing them in a cat binder, neatly piling up his textbooks. "No problem," Marik assures. "But what now?"

"Oh, I just needed you for the translation," Ryou dismisses.

"But I wanna known the plan," Marik whines, sitting beside Ryou and adjusting the heavy belt over his hips. Ryou, Yugi, Joey and Tea exchange uneasy glances. Tension in the rook grows thick and it's so silent they can hear a low whistle of the wind beyond the windows.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Joey growls. "Nah - not happenin',"

"Why?!" Marik demands angrily.

"I'd like to know your plan too," Bakura speaks darkly, in a calm voice, fixing his eyes on Yūgi. "As the person here who knows most about this, I think I know what you're planning. So either tell Marik or I will,"

Yugi stands tall (despite how short he is) and fixes Bakura with a determined stare. He can't hide the fear in his eyes, but he's got more resolve than Bakura realised. Yūgi has grown into a fine young adult, not much taller but with sharper eyes and a jawbone that offsets his baby face. He doesn't look intimidating, but isn't the little kid you can push around anymore. "Fine. Marik, we're going to Egypt to recover the puzzle, reassemble it and bring back the Pharaoh. This is when the chant is needed,"

"You're under no obligation to join us," Ryou adds quickly. "I know you came here to escape the shadows there," not the best move, since this city is also overrun by shadows.

"I'm coming," Marik states firmly. "You're my friends, even if we haven't talked in a long time. I contributed to this and I'm going to set it right,"

"I'm coming too," Bakura declares with a glare that dares the rest of them to challenge him. "Zork used me to make his happen. I control my own destiny - not him! And I'll destroy his entire plan to prove it,"

Nobody objects. Tea grabs a heavy AK from the corner and slings it over her shoulder, clicking it into place with a determined grin. "Perfect. Then let's suit up,"