Never Rid of You

Spoilers: Some.
Pairings: Malik x Mariku
Lemon in this chapter:
Chapter: (6/9?)

To all that have stuck with the fic thus far: WOO! Chapter 6! *Lil dance* I finally decided to make a Yami name for Yahoo. *Groove* If anyone wants to get a hold of me, just pester me on bishounen_kaiba_seto and be sure to mention that you've read my fic! I tend to automatically disregard anyone with bright big font or a bad case of Ebonicus Dorkus.

Also, I cannot st eno enough that the first time I posted Chapter 4; it took up the wrong saved text. You'll know if you've read the refreshed version by if there's a section of Seto and Mokuba at the end. Arigatou!

From here on out, I intend to make the chapters a lot longer. I don't want this turning in to some long, 30-chapter series, but this has now been confirmed to be PART ONE of possibly a trilogy.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! nor the characters involved in this work of fiction. This has been written without motive for profit or violation of copyrighted material, and the writer has only created this work for personal amusement to be shared with others. Yay. That saves my ass. Again.

On with the fic!!


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Chapter Six: Rain

Their father was now safely tucked away in the depths of the catacombs that held their ancestors. The last five thousand years' worth of their family's responsibility. Isis had come and gone in the last days, securing things. Malik still admired her for her efforts, how hard she worked to keep their family together.

"...So, we're leaving home, Malik," she said gently to the blond boy at her side. Both stared off to the twilight that pre-empted dawn, only the farthest part of torizorizon beyond the humps of low buildings beginning to tinge with light. "Do you want to see the Birth River?"

It was finally here. At last he was free. The darkness within him allowed him this moment, before bitterly reminding him of the fact that, somewhere in this gigantic world, was the murderer of his father.

Five thousand years, and his first act as the god amongst men is to kill him the voice purred, lavender hues smoking over at his presence. Isis took a wary step to the side as Rishid secured his grasp of the young Egyptian's hand. In the small boy's other was the Rod.

Truly, she couldn't have objected even if she wanted to. It was known to her that in the creation of the Items, only those destined to hold them, to have the will of gods and thus hold sway on the Shadows, could grasp them. If not him, then no other but the Pharaoh. Fingers tightened into the sides of her dress, forcing a smile down to her little brother.

They work so hard to please you. Like some cat she bends over backwards to lick your wounds, to nurture you. You don't deserve to be around a woman as strong as her. And your brother...

Lilac orbs narrowed as more of the skyline was dotted with luminance, urging Me to shush him. He wanted to enjoy this moment. Not ever again, he swore, would he miss another pass of the sun. Too long it had been denied him, and now, he would personally see to it that Ra made safe journey across the sky, and deemed the rest of the gods unworthy to such a task.

Just as unworthy as he was to be a brother of these two that cared so much for him. Tine fingers unwound themselves from Rishid's grip, the taller man blinking as the boy made escape to one of the felled stone walls.

Setting down the gold scepter on another part of the wall, he lifted away the stone rock that pinned his precious piece of paper. Unfolding it, smoothing it down over the sandstone, he smiled down to the worn photo of the man on his mechanical wonder.

Both his siblings exchanged a look before Malik interrupted them with a chipper, "I want to get a motorcycle. Today."

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No one would ever deny him what he wanted, not ever again. A true problem with still half a year before he would turn twelve was the fact he was too small to ride any motorcycle.

...So Rishid rode it for him. The large man couldn't have minded in the slightest, and was actually rather pleased to learn about the modern marvel in such a physical manner. Under the hour he had a good enough hang of it that he could allow Malik to sit on it with him, but not ever without a et. et.

All their sister could bring herself to do was watch, knowing full well how Malik was going to purchase such a machination. She remained in the shade, enjoying her glass of water and doing her best to not protest. There were still many things she needed to sort before the day was done, and they would need to get to Thebes soon.

Between donuts with the tires that left Malik shrieking with delight, the eldest Ishtar took glance towards their sister. It was obvious to anyone how much distress she was in.

...Everyone but Malik. And they couldn't have it any other way.

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"If you keep eating those sweets you're going to lose your stomach, Master Malik," the older man chided lightly from his spot in the armchair.

Over a cream puff did the Egyptian boy glower over to him. It was difficult to maintain and intimidation factor with strawberry icing in his cheek. "You lie."

The reaction coaxed a light smirk from the man, turning another page in the newspaper. "Never." Ever since the late morning that the boy had come fumbling himself to the table in just his sheets, the two had decided it wasn't safe to leave him out of Rishid's presence.

It truly irked Me. Half the things he wanted to do he was denied under the simple confrontation of the man and his presence. The effect it had on the sugar-glutton he resided in was a revolting one. Have to get him away... All to myself...

Stuffing in the last of the pastry to his tiny mouth he lounged back in the pillows, hugging the survivors in the bag of goodies to hif. Ff. For the last week they had been in Thebes, and for the last week Isis would be gone all day and slept all night, securing their place in Egyptian society without the intrusion of the Shadows and Malik's insistence that he could make things so much easier for all of them. Me was attempting to remain content in the fact that every time the boy closed his eyes and surrendered himself, which was the only time they could truly be together.

Slowly, he was securing his place in the mind of the youngest Ishtar.

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The drive from Thebes then on to Alexandria was an exhausting one, and the first thing Malik did once his brother managed the hotel door open was dump himself onto the first of the two beds. Isis gone almost constantly now meant they only needed two.

...And even then, most nights Malik still crept into the elder’s bed, much to the disapproval of Me.

Don't you see? She's avoiding you. She knows you're not her precious, sweet, wonderful little brother anymore. She doesn't want you anymore. He could hear more of the rancid twist in his voice than usual.

Rishid was beginning to notice how ill it made his young master, despite he couldn't place what was causing it. He only went back to reading his paper as the blond shoved his head under a pillow.

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Awoken by the smell of steamed vegetables, Malik's head shot up. Smokey lilac hues glared off at the older man whom was eating from a take out box. "What is that?" he growled, more curious than angry at the fact he'd been roused by the smell. It wasn't unpleasant, just annoying.

"Squash, lettuce, carrots..." Rishid looked back into the bag sitting on the table, bringing out another box and offering it out to his young master.

When he was done blinking he did take it to himself, sitting down on the edge of the mussed bed. Opening it up, he stared down to also discovered there were spiced beans, rice...

"And a smoothie," he added in at the last moment, Malik staring up just in time to have his cheek assaulted by the cold sweaty confine of a wax paper cup. As soon as he was done squeaking and getting over the shock he gladly took it, watching the older man.

Such trouble he is... Can't trust you to be by yourself. Can't even leave you alone when you sleep. He thinks you're a danger.

Malik still didn't believe that, but he rose to his feet anyway with his meal, heading for the door. He only looked back when the man called for him, small jaw set as he stared to him dispassionately. "...Open the door for me, Rishid."

"Where... are you going, Master Malik?" the man inquired as he rose to his feet, heavy boot falls moving him across the thin carpet and through the narrow corridor to manage the door open.

Worming way past him now that he could leave, he only shrugged lightly before taking a frothy gulp from the straw. "Out."

"I'll come with you." Rishid was already moving back to the chair to collect his coat.

"...You don't even trust me to go out on my own?" Perhaps what his other half said was true...

Golden hazel eyes watched him evenly, coat slung on his arm and still carrying the box of his dinner. "It isn't that," he said softly, taking hold of the door. "The... radio," a word he still found awkward, "said that weather was moving in. I don't want you to get lost out there, and possibly fall ill."

"Liar." Lavender hues narrowed as his young face twisted with anger. "Liar! You don't trust me at all to go out for five minutes without some terrible thing befalling me!"

Rishid only watched his young master with an even pair of hazel eyes, if not with a notch of sorrow taking hold of his throat. He had to cough before he could reply, and even then, it was greatly subdued, apologetic by nature. "...Master Malik... The will of your mother, before she died, was that I protect you. Your father... allowed me to stay in your family, so that I could fulfill that task. I will not fail them, even if they no longer hold sway in this world."

"Liar," was all the boy was able to croak before he started in to the hall. A miserably silent older man followed after lightly clicking the door shut.

"...The radio..." he finally began, when they had reached the roof. "...Said that there would be rain."

Deep down, Malik was curious to find out what the sky looked like when it was crying. Unlike himself, it must be a gorgeous sight. He doubted the sky could ever look forbidding or cruel, or hateful. Look anything like a face that had fallen in to fear before going black in a wash of crimson.

Unseen to the mortal eyes of the eldest Ishtar was the presence of Me, his arms secure around the small blond's shoulders and nuzzling in to the back of his head as Malik ate. For so small a boy he definitely ate well. There was to be considered, though, that there was an entire world of flavors and recipes to be tasted, and it was a task he looked forward to.

Wouldn't everything taste better, if you were Pharaoh?

A light nod came from him between forkfuls of rice. But we have to find him first, don't we? Him and the Puzzle?

He will reveal himself, in time. That will be his fatal error. We must only wait.

So late in the afternoon, the rich backdrop of cloud-freckled azure sky brought contrast to the low emergences of the surrounding buildings. Off in the hazy distance, towards the Sea of Reeds(1), their sister was hard at work with the transfer of family relics into the government's hands, in one of those tall nameless spears leading to the sky.

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It was as the melting sun was falling into the distant edge of the world as a pool of vibrant nectarine pink that Malik squeaked. Alerting the attention of Rishid nearby, who had formerly only stood sentry near the door to the roof to make sure they could be alone, he approached.

"Master Malik...?"

Fingers came away from his cheek before he wrinkled his nose and turned shocked lilac hues up to the man. "Am I crying?"

Casting glance towards the ashen crown of air above, he shook his head. "I do not... believe so..."

Slowly it came to pass that their world was consumed in light mist, and Malik's heart was racing for every minute of it. Me, not once, loosed his hold of his feeble half, even for as surprised as he also was for the situation.

"Is... the sky crying?" For this entire world...? That the sun goes away once more...? Or something we've done?

Even as just a ghost, the boy could feel the grasp of the other fasten upon him, insistent to drag him away from the waking world and the new fascination. Malik's intrigue was the only thing to keep him there, save the reassuring presence of his brother.

"...I believe that's what they call rain, Master Malik. But... maybe it is." There was little he could do in the way of disheartening his brother, doing all that he could to help Malik feel he was right.

"...I only cry when I'm sad. So... is the sky sad?"

Of course it is, Weak One... It grieves for all the world. ...For all the world that does not yet know you will be Pharaoh. Oh if only he could twist the insides of his Malik, to make him hate the rain. Then, always he would have a way to grow. A bitter glare went over his shoulder to the figure of the large man that was also overwhelmed with the development of the heavens.

Rishid could feel his spine go cold.

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(1) The Sea of Reeds is the Egyptian form of Heaven, a place that all the dead strive to reach in their drift through the waters of Chaos, after their Ka is weighed by Osiris, and also where the sun supposedly rests before its journey through the Underworld.

A/N: At long last! The next chapter! I looked so forward to writing it, and then it finally came to it, and it never got done! Good jeebuz peanut butter. Anyhow, yes, this story is now a bit over halfway done I think. This is only a prologue to the events of Battle City - because the creator was a bastard to make Malik out to be the bad guy for so damn long without proper character development.

....That bastard.

...Ahem.

So, yes, not much longer than its predecessors, but that will all change. This reader-friendly format is beginning to bug the christ out of me. I'm used to writing in long, descriptive blobs that end up confusing a person from horrible run-on and typos.

Speaking of! I have updated all the prior chapters with their grammar and spelling, thanks to my Word being fixed. *Pose* See you all next time!

Next Chapter: GHOULS