Yu-Gi-Oh belongs to Kazuki Takahashi. We're just humble fans.

NOTES: Sorry this is a short chapter. But then again, most of the chapters seem unusually elongated. I actually altered this one for the repost. A bit more detail in places, a bit more dialogue, to flesh it out and stuff.

Bakura gripped Malik's wrist tightly, his fingernails digging into the skin. Growling, he bit Malik's neck sharply, hungrily lapping at the crimson blood.

Malik was frozen with fear. The only sound escaping him was that of his gentle yet understandably quickened breath. After a moment, Yami no Bakura pulled back, keeping a firm grip on the Egyptian's wrist.

"Bastard," he hissed.

Malik swallowed, and his body tensed up, prepared for the blow that was inevitable. 

But Bakura didn't strike. Malik's wrist was twisted into an even more uncomfortable position, as Bakura's grip tightened. Malik could feel his anger.

"You honestly thought I wouldn't notice?" Bakura nearly screamed. "You thief! Bastard! How DARE you?!" Leaning closer to his victim, he whispered into his ear again. "So, Ishtar, what the FUCK got into your head? What made you even THINK I wouldn't notice?"

Malik, pressed against the wall and unable to see Bakura, shuddered. Nothing could save him, and even if he was lucky enough to escape, Bakura would just hunt him down.

"I didn't think that," he replied, his tone dull and flat with resignation. "I knew you would find out. I didn't know how long it would take, but I knew you would."

"And I assume you know what's going to happen to you now?" It was that dangerously soft voice again.

"Of course," Malik responded. "But you know what? I don't care. You're a traitor, a fucking traitor, and my death, banishment or whatever will be on YOUR hands."

There was silence for a moment.

"Me a traitor?!" Bakura cried, releasing Malik's wrist and allowing the Egyptian to turn around and face him. For the first time since his arrival, Malik was able to see the Millennium Rod that Bakura was holding. Normally, the only items Bakura carried with him were the Ring and Puzzle; the others remained in what had become his bedroom, protected by a barrier of shadow magic.

"Yes, you are a traitor," Malik said, his voice steady, although he eyed the Rod anxiously. The item had once been his, and he knew very well that the shaft concealed a dagger.

"And what, exactly, have I betrayed?" Bakura inquired, lightly, despite the threat his tone still carried. "Unless I am very much mistaken, I am not the one who has stolen one of the most valuable possessions of someone who trusted him."

Malik felt a flash of guilt, but it was only momentary. The emotion gave way to what was indeniably anger, anger of being pushed aside for preference of a lump of cold metal.

"TRUST GOES FURTHER THAN POSSESSIONS, BAKURA!" he found himself yelling, as the rage exploded uncontrollably in his mind. "Those... those THINGS are destroying everything! You ARE a fucking traitor! You've betrayed the world, me, and even YOURSELF! ALL OVER SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO! I couldn't just stand by and let you destroy yourself for no reason! I can't take it!"

Bakura just stared at him as he caught his breath, taking in the fact the Malik was trembling. But he wasn't trembling with fear, it was rage.

Malik glared at him again. An unidentifiable emotion flickered on the Pharaoh's face, before he sneered.

"You're pathetic. Imagine that. You think I'm hurting myself. Well..."

"I don't think," Malik snapped, interrupting. "I know."

"Well then, isn't it strange that I was perfectly happy until YOU went and stole from me? I had everything I ever wanted! It was you who followed me the whole time, you who joined me to defeat the Pharaoh and his little brat Yuugi, you who I thought was the most loyal, and you who BETRAYED me! Of course, you're going to pay..." he gripped the Rod, and unsheathed the hidden blade, allowing the golden scabbard to clatter to the tiled floor and roll to his feet.

Malik glanced at the blade, successfully hiding even the slightest fear, before raising his eyes to meet Bakura's.

"I helped you because I loved you," he said, voice low and steady. "If you really want to kill me, go right ahead, it'll only prove..."

The blow he received then was unexpected. Although it was not a powerful blow, it was enough to break the eye contact, as Bakura probably intended. Bakura seized a handful of Malik's long, pale blond hair, and used it to pin Malik back against the wall.

Malik couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut and hiss inwardly from the pain of the cold metal biting into his face. Bakura was so close to him he could feel the warmth of his breath on his face.

He had expected Bakura to just kill him and get it over with, but he had clearly been wrong. The blade of the Rod was pressed painfully to the bridge of his nose, and dragged across his cheek. It wasn't until Bakura repeated the movement that Malik realised that he was carving the Eye that decorated the Millennium Items into his skin, like a mark of ownership.

"Are you going to open your eyes?" Bakura demanded. "Open them!" He released Malik's hair and hit him hard with a cupped hand.

Startled by the blow, Malik was unable to prevent his eyes fom flying open. Bakura smirked with satisfaction, and gripped Malik's arm tightly. He lifted the dagger for Malik to see, with the blood from his cheek glistening at the tip, before pressing its point to Malik's chest.

And it was only now that the reality of it crashed down on him. This was really it. A dead end.

No turning back, no trying to make amends. He would be gone forever. He had barely even thought of it, but now it was happening, and it was far too soon for him.

Malik's whole body tensed up, too tense to tremble with the fear as he closed his eyes once more, all the courage he had shown up to now abandoning him. He was completely unable to prevent the whimper escaping his throat.

"You really are pitiful," Bakura's voice growled. Malik had barely heard him - the fear had such an effect as to make everything seem as if it were in a dream. 

However, the pressure the blade was exerting on his chest lifted, and Malik heard the sound of metal striking the floor.

Cautiously, Malik opened one eye, to find Bakura glaring at him. The hand that had held the dagger before Bakura allowed it to fall moved to grip Malik's free arm.

"Wha...?"

Bakura moved foward to kiss Malik roughly, still pushing him up against the wall.

"You are the luckiest bastard alive," Bakura growled into his mouth, before pulling away, biting Malik's lip sharply, drawing blood.

Malik's eyes widened in astonishment, as he realised... Bakura wouldn't kill him, no matter how furious he was.

"You... you're letting me...?"

"Shut the fuck up, Ishtar!" Bakura yelled, the grip he still had on Malik's arms tightening. He pulled the blond away from the wall, before throwing him against it.

Malik's head hit the stone hard, causing the Egyptian to see lights flash before his eyes, as Bakura delivered a swift kick to his stomach. As Malik collapsed to the ground in pain, Bakura turned and started to walk away.

"I advise you to run," he stated. "And I guarantee that the next time I even catch sight of you, you won't be so lucky." He bent down and picked up the Rod and the scabbard, once again sheathing the dagger. "Well?"

Malik didn't reply. He scrambled out of the palace hall, struggling to stand and run. The shock from being thrown into the wall had rendered him dizzy and faint, and every movement caused the flashing lights to return.

He tried to run, but it was difficult. The bruises from the fight with Jounouchi, in addition to the dizziness from shock, were what made it so.

However, before he even got far from the palace, he tripped. A pair of strong arms caught him before he hit the ground. Malik tried to see who had caught him, but was only able to see wild, blond hair, before the shock finally fully caught up with him and he blacked out in Jounouchi's arms. 

~~~~~

Bakura watched Malik's 'escape' from the high window of his bedroom, as Jounouchi attempted to carry him on his back, with the spirit of Bakura's host gesturing frantically, clearly panicked.

The Pharaoh had no idea how to react. He had no idea why he had even allowed Malik to leave.

Whirling around, Bakura threw himself onto his mattress, and seized the pillow. "WHY DID I LET HIM GO?!" he shouted, voice muffled by the pillow he now held against his face. "I... he fucking stole from me! He's just another one, another fucking traitor! He was supposed to be loyal, he was supposed to obey me! I should've killed him so why COULDN'T I?! I..." he thrust the pillow back onto the bed and cried out in fury.

Then he was quiet, breathing erratically, his fingers running over the eye on the Millennium Puzzle.

"Oh Ra... he's gone..." he murmured. "I am... I am such an idiot."

He reached for the pillow again and pulled it to his chest.

"And he was fucking right..."
 

END OF PART