Of the Sun and Moon

SUMMARY: Alright, if anyone out there is a Yugi fan, then this might be a little weird. I'm sorry, but this couple had to be brought together, and 'Namu' was so damned cute, I had to use that personallity. The story switches back and forth between both characters' perspectives, too. (Kind of Ricean, ain't it?) Anyway, very AU Malik comes on his big ship thingie and meets Bakura for the first time. (And yes, I know Malik is supposed to be blond, but hey... I have a thing for white hair. And just so everyone knows, Bakura does NOT have his cute little ring that makes him all posessed and evil and stuff. Thank you and enjoy the fic.

It’s a nice day, I suppose. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and people seem in a relatively good mood as they pass me here in the square. School let out not too long ago, and I found that coming here lets me relax and enjoy my more reclusive talents.

Out comes the sketchbook from my case, and a good charcoal pencil. Yes, people are in a jovial sort of mindset. I don’t even have to look at their faces; their body language alone gives it away.

The pencil comes to rest against the paper in front of me and begins to sketch the buildings looming high above.

~~~~~

Something about this air… it’s not as hot as home, but unavoidably humid.

I’ve only been here for two days, and my time is running out. The work is nearly done, of course… but I’d like to enjoy this little vacation, too. As I step into the square I pass by several people that eye me curiously… but of course there are many that don’t seem to pay me more than a glance, too. There’s not enough time to let it faze me. I came here to enjoy myself, not be bothered by gawking natives. I was told that there was a nice café around here… now if I could only find it…

~~~~~

The sketch in front of me starts to take shape. The buildings are complete to halfway down, fading into nothingness and leaving plenty of room to throw in the crowd, signs… Random faces that pass by are instantly shaded onto the once white surface, careless images that seem to grow fainter here and there, making them obsolete. It adds a depth to my work, the way I do that with the people. Although, everyone that I’ve ever let get a look at my pieces say that it seems lonely and distant. Maybe that’s the whole point. I don’t know these people. I don’t particularly want to know them, either. They’re just phantoms. And that’s what I am to them: just some lonely little school boy sitting on a bench… a silent and stationary specter…

But suddenly I catch sight of something that catches my interest… His skin is a golden tan, but his hair is almost as white as mine. The contrast makes me stare for an extra moment, and he turns around in this space of time, seemingly looking for something. His eyes… I can tell, even from here, that they’re a wonderful shade of purple… more lavender, like lilacs.

Thankful that he hasn’t noticed my stare, I begin to draw what it is that I’ve seen. The more I draw, the more I notice. The golden armbands… strange earrings… that peculiar collar… There’s no way he’s from around here. And then, just as I think he’s going to leave, he turns around… and spots me.

~~~~~

Now I’m used to stares, but I feel something that seems like a little more. I look around, now searching for whoever it is looking at me rather than the café. I see a little boy staring at me and smile at him. He smiles back. A worried mother yanks at his hand, pulling him off into the crowd without looking back. The boy’s stare is gone. But I still feel it. Someone is watching me. Intensely.

My head whips around instinctively while I scan the area. And then my eyes settle on another boy… an older boy sitting on a bench near a fountain in the center of the square. This one has white hair, a lot like mine. He sees that I’ve caught him and hides his face behind some sort of book, which makes me laugh. He’s probably embaraced that I’ve caught him. But why was he staring at me so? Licking my lips in thought, I approach him.

~~~~~

He saw me! How unforgivable! I never should’ve stared at him like that. I try to pretend it was just a coincidental glance at the same time and hope that he goes away. My hopes are shattered, however, as I feel someone sit beside me on the bench. Nervous, I tilt the paper away from him so that he can’t see what I was really doing.

“I’m sorry,” he begins in a polite, soft voice, “but do I know you?” Blinking, I venture another look at this stranger.

“I- No, I don’t think so,” I whisper back at him, trying to smile in my nervous state.


~~~~~

“Oh… I see. I just thought that you-“ I stop myself from admitting that I had actually caught him staring. He looks like he’s about to die of a heart-attack, anyway. I don’t think I want to frighten him more. “…that you looked familiar. My name is Malik.”

“Bakura…” he offers shyly.

And of course I noticed him pull the book away. I don’t think he meant for me to notice, but it was pretty obvious. I glance at it anyway, catching more than he probably wanted me to.

“Nice likeness,” I comment, gesturing towards the drawing. He’s suddenly blushing, which is an odd sight with his fair complexion.

“Um…” he struggles for an answer. “Thank you…” Giving up, he lets me see his work. It’s beautiful, for a black and white sketch. The buildings look crisp… but the people… “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I ask, still staring at the drawing and wondering why he chose me to be an obvious focal point. “It’s nice. But… why are the other people so distant-looking?” He pauses, as if he’s not quite sure himself.

“They just… didn’t inspire me.”

~~~~~

That was the stupidest thing I could’ve said. He’s probably going to look at me odd. But to my surprise, he doesn’t. He just nods, looks at the picture again, and studies it.
“Why this expression on my face? Did I really look like that?” It’s not a decidedly bad question; he just seems curious about it.

“Yes. You did. When I first saw you, anyway.” The butterflies in my stomach couldn’t get much worse, I don’t think. One tries to escape up my throat and I swallow it back down, forcing it to behave. “You just turned around… and there was this lost look in your eyes…”

“I see…” He seems thoughtful. “Do you do other things?”

“W-what do you mean…?”

“Aside from people. Do you draw items?”

“Well… yes, yes I do.” I’m not sure why he’s asking such a question. Why would he be so interested?

~~~~~

“Would you be interested in drawing some things for me?” I ask, trying not to look too desperate, but interested. He just stares, his eyes asking for him. “My family owns a few exhibits at the museum here. I was going to have some pictures taken of the new ones I brought over yesterday –for our records- but the camera equipment was damaged. If you can sketch items as well as you can people…” I don’t finish. I just gaze at him hopefully, watching the procession of facial expressions that wash over him.

“Eh… well, I-“

“I will pay you, of course. And any supplies you need can be arranged.”

“Um… okay,” he agrees, a smile and a nod accompanying it. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful.” I flash a smile. “When will you be available? I’m afraid the exhibits aren’t open to the public yet, so I’ll have to go with you so you can see them.”

“A-anytime,” he stutters, then catches his eagerness. “Except during school hours.” My eyes glance down at his clothes. I’ve seen them somewhere before… it must be some sort of school uniform. Whatever it is, it suits him well enough.

“Very well. How about… tomorrow after school, then? Will that be alright?”

“Sure.”

“Then I’ll send someone to pick you up there, and they will bring you to the museum. I’ll already be waiting on you.” He nods, smiles. I swear he’s still blushing a little, though…