Chapter Thirty-Two, Finis

Otogi twirled a cane thoughtfully as he stepped down from his steps, glancing around furtively. Although he was completely hydrated – and had been careful to remain that way ever since he had to go without water thanks to Yami – his wife had turned into somewhat of a troublesome, nagging woman, constantly hovering over him and ordering the servants to make certain that he never got out of the house without her specific permission. Shizuka, taking tea at Isis’s for the day, had no idea that he had managed to employ a clever mind to help him get out of the house that day so that he might see his sister.

“Shizuka is still with Isis,” Bakura assured, lighting a cigarette as he followed Otogi from behind, shutting the door behind him. “I made certain that Seto was to alert me if that changed.” Otogi raised his eyebrows with some surprise.

“Is that right? What reason has he to even want to help?” Otogi queried looking more than a bit annoyed. Bakura smirked, peering down at Otogi curiously. Although Otogi had been reluctant to ask Bakura, of all the people, for help, he did trust him a good deal more than he ever would Marik. Malik, he had heard from Shizuka, was having a bit of a row with his sister at the moment and Otogi was not feeling particularly inclined towards him anyway seeing as how he and his butler had bullied him when he went to visit him last. Besides, Bakura had a way with servants and money that neither of Ishtar brothers did.

“Seto is doing this more for Anzu than you. If the rift I caused between you two is mended, then all will be all and that’s what the earl wants.” Bakura took a drag from his cigarette and stepped past Otogi to his carriage, opening it and ushering him inside. “In case your wife gets here before Seto’s message.” Otogi stepped in and Bakura followed, rapping on the ceiling. As the carriage lumbered into the road towards their destination, Bakura continued, “As you should know, Anzu is refusing to see Malik. She’s a bit miffed at him and now, apparently, at Marik because he called her fat.”

Otogi sent him a horrified look.

“That is everyone’s opinion, as well,” Bakura said with a grin. “He seemed to be under the impression that it would make her talk to Malik. Where he got that fool idea is beyond me. In any case, Seto thinks that it would be best if this was concluded before Anzu sees Malik. Coincidentally, Anzu has arranged to see Malik later on in the afternoon. Or, at least, that is when Malik is going to see her. She only said that she was willing to see him today.” Bakura eyed Otogi, who was fiddling with his cane, a vague frown crossing his lips. “What’s on your mind, Mazaki?”

“I have only been thinking...Seto is a close friend of Malik’s, too, is he not?”

“Close, but not as close as Marik or I,” Bakura responded smoothly. “I think I know where you are going with this, and the answer is that, yes, Seto is also doing this for his own benefit. I’m not sure if you know yet and let’s pretend that I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you, either, but Malik has been intending on proposing to your sister for some time. Before we even concluded the messy matter of her financial state, I might add. I messed things up for him, but it was all for the good, trust me on that.” Otogi frowned again, but seemed to think it would be best if he did not ask about that. “If the conversation bodes well today, Malik will present her with a ring. He will try anything and everything to convince Anzu to marry him. If she doesn’t, he’s threatened to leave England entirely and to give up his gaming hell.”

“Leave England?” Otogi repeated in disbelief. “Leave...London? He wouldn’t!”

“Oh, from what I’ve been told, he was more than serious,” Bakura said in a grim tone. “Malik’s mind is set on this. He’s not, ah...accustomed to being refused things he wants. Unlike Marik, who usually has to throw a tantrum to get what he wants, forcefully get it, or just get it by persuasion, Malik gets it on the first try. If Anzu refuses his proposal, he’s going to keep trying until he deems it is hopeless. I am more confident of their relationship than that, though.”

“But obviously something serious caused them to stop seeing each other for awhile?”

Bakura glanced at him. “I’m not sure it would be wise for me to tell you at the moment. It would hardly put Malik in a good light, let alone Marik or myself.”

“Please tell me you are not deluded into believing that any of you have ever been in a good light when it comes to my perspective,” Otogi dryly said.

“Oh, but I thought for a moment you were thankful for us finding you?” Bakura taunted with a smirk.

“Just a moment, I assure you. Go on, then, Bakura, and tell me what trouble you three have landed yourself into so that my sister has shunned Malik.”

There was a bit of respect at the loftiness in Otogi’s words before Bakura inclined his head. “Very well. I’m not sure if you were in court at the time or if you were married. In any case, Marik and Malik had a bit of a competition between themselves. As I said, when Malik wants something, he usually gets it. But if Marik wants it, too, things get increasingly difficult. There was a girl that they both wanted, so they agreed to compete for her. Whoever got her into bed first won. Naturally, I twisted it up a bit to make it interesting for me as a bystander. Marik won, went to bed with her, and tossed her out as he does with any girl. She likely thought that Marik was infatuated with her and that was why he fought with Malik over her. She’s disappeared since then.

“They repeated this with Anzu. Things obviously became much more complicated with her, what with Hathaway sending men after them, Radisson still after Anzu, Mackin’s own financial dealings hovering dangerously over Anzu’s head, and of course, Anzu’s own financial dealings in the underworld involved. The original competition did not last long before it was altered so that only Malik got her into bed since she seemed to favor him over Marik. I was prepared to intervene, seduce her myself if I had to, so that Marik did not get her. She was more naïve than the previous one, with better social standing, and I knew of her underworld dealings before either of those two did. And then, eventually, the competition dropped away completely, if not officially.”

“And so...?” Otogi prodded, having listened to this more or less placidly.

“Malik never told her why he originally became interested in her, nor did Marik or Isis.” The carriage rumbled to a halt and Bakura flicked the curtains back to make certain they were at the correct location. Satisfied, he opened the door and hopped out with Otogi following shortly afterward. “I’m not a fool. I knew Malik was smitten with her – anyone with two eyes and fair knowledge of Malik’s reputation could see that. I waited for him to tell her, but he never did. Nobody did. She needed to know the truth before she got too involved.”

“Ah, poor Anzu,” he sympathetically murmured as they passed through the gates. They were open by themselves, with no servant needed to come and open them. Anzu was clearly becoming more comfortable with allowing guests in her house. “She must have been badly hurt by the news that Malik’s interest in her had not been altogether honest.”

“Very hurt,” Bakura agreed.

“I imagine she would have preferred to hear it from Malik,” Otogi remarked as they came to the steps. “After all, it would have made him seem more noble or such. As you said, this does not put any three of you in a good light. She would have seen it as him being earnest and trying to make up for the dishonesty in the beginning.”

“It seems that everyone but Malik saw that,” Bakura said in a wry, amused voice. “I am surprised you are not more indignant in your sister’s behalf, Otogi,” he added as Otogi knocked on the door with the end of his cane. “Can I assume you, yourself, were involved in such sordid affairs?” Otogi looked a bit flustered at this, glowering at him through the corner of his eyes.

“Let’s just say I not only won a lot of money from such bets, but lost a lot, too,” he stiffly replied. Bakura grinned. “At least I had more than a good romp to earn from winning.”

“But we did not rack up gaming debts, either.” The door swung open and Anzu herself opened the door, looking a bit surprised at seeing them. “Hello, Anzu. Mind if we come in? I promise to be gone before Malik comes. If not, I’ll make myself gone.” She looked even more surprised at this, glancing at Bakura. She seemed to think he was explanation enough, as though he were a piece of paper standing upright with a long-winded elaboration written upon it.

“Nice to know,” Anzu said with a tiny sigh, gesturing them in wearily. “And please, Bakura, I have already rejected your two friends. Try to refrain from doing or saying anything that might cause me to do the same to you. I’m not in a mood to be more stressed than I am...” She closed the door and paused before adding as an afterthought, “Or to receive any criticisms on how I dress.” The frosty way in which said that indicated that was quite a fresh wound. Bakura suspected that was Marik’s work; he had heard his criticisms of Isis’s wardrobe several times and often wondered how it was that he was alive to even say such things.

“No need to worry,” Bakura told her. “I am merely here as an escort. Your brother has been having trouble escaping his death trap of a wife. I was more than happy to cause mischief in yet another household. Think she would believe me if I said I slept with him, too? She can’t really call me out, can she?” Otogi looked positively mortified at the idea of Shizuka being told he had been ravished by Bakura, but Anzu seemed delighted at the idea.

“I would like to see her reaction,” she told him with a grin. After a pause, she moved forward and hugged him. “I’ve missed you, Bakura. I thought you would come by to convince me to talk to Malik. At least you would not call me fat and think that you were trying to help.” That, too, was said in a petulant tone. Bakura laughed and smoothed a hand over her head affectionately.

“I caused you to stop talking to Malik, if you recall. I saw no reason why I should make you talk to him if you didn’t want to. It’s not my business to meddle in.”

She withdrew and gave him a watery smile. He grimaced a bit, clearly hoping that she would not cry. Seeming to sense that he was uncomfortable, Anzu turned to her brother instead. Otogi was still imagining the horrors Shizuka would inflict on him if she believed that he had been intimate with another man and also trying to shake off the feeling that he had been intruding on a very personal moment when Bakura and his sister had been hugging. He had half a mind to blurt out, “Have you been with Bakura, too?” but decided that would make the situation decidedly more awkward. Shaking off all feelings, he cleared his throat and said, “Shall we sit? I don’t mind standing, but I have just recovered from being ill. I have a few things I need to say anyway.”

“Certainly,” she agreed. “In the drawing room, I think.”

“Do you mind if I go hunt down your cook to fix me something up?” Bakura queried, more of a way to allow them to be private than to fill his stomach.

“No, go ahead, Bakura,” Anzu answered, taking her brother’s arm and steering him towards the drawing room. She shut the doors behind them while Otogi settled on the divan near the window, craning his head to peer outside interestedly. She sat next to him and he turned his back to its normal position, smiling. “I had been hoping you would come soon. I was afraid that what I told you scared you away...”

“It wasn’t that I was scared, Anzu,” he told her patiently, seeing the sadness lying behind her eyes. She had dealt with far too much in the past years, ever since she married Mackin. He realized, a bit astonishingly, that he was rooting for Malik. He wanted his sister and Malik to get married. He knew that, with the Ishtars as family, things would be rather out of control at times, but he felt that it was worth it. He felt that Anzu would be happy with such family and that she could finally settle down so that she could enjoy life rather than trudge through it wearily as though it were work. With a tiny sigh, Otogi took Anzu’s hands and rubbed them comfortingly between hers. “I was not scared,” he repeated, “but angry.”

“Angry?” She blinked, baffled. “What could you - ?” Comprehension dawned on her before she finished her sentence and her brow furrowed worriedly. She did not say anything, though, perhaps suspecting that Otogi wished to explain himself.

“How could I not be, Anzu?” He queried softly. “I have told you every dirty little secret about me – except maybe a few things that happen in the bedroom, but that is hardly talk for siblings – and yet you kept this bland exterior, acting as the meek little virgin ready to be sacrificed when you were really a...a...Well, I can’t think of a correct metaphor at the moment, so let’s just say the opposite of that. I had always thought we were united against our mother and close, that no secret was to be kept from each other. And then, I find that you kept not one, but several secrets of your life from me. I felt as though I was facing a completely different person after you told me all of that.”

“I’m aware...I am aware, Otogi,” she murmured, looking down at their joined hands. “I never enjoyed it. Never. I was always frightened when I had to do something and no one was there to hold my hand. I was frightened, too, because I learned to hate so powerfully, learned the desire to kill someone as much as I did Radisson. It was all brutal, nothing that I wanted to admit to anyone but myself. Bakura and the others were already involved in those things so that they were able to find out themselves. I would not have told them otherwise.”

“...It is not only that, Anzu,” Otogi said. “When I think of the pain you had to endure, keeping these secrets, avoiding Radisson and then the aftermath...” He sighed heavily, looking lost for a moment. “I know you’re older, but I always felt the need to protect you. I still do, even if I know I do a poor job at it – ”

“No – ” she began to protest.

“You don’t have to lie,” he interrupted her. “You protected me far better than I could have ever protected you. I even tried to pull you away from the man that you chose to love, simply because I was stubborn enough to see only the man that the public saw.” He withdrew his hands. Anzu stared at him, a bit pale and deathly silent. “I think he would do anything to be with you, Anzu.”

“Have you...talked to him, Otogi?” She quietly asked.

“No, but Bakura told me what it was that got him in trouble in the first place. I agree that he should have told you. I should warn you, though, that wagers and little games like those are the kind that rogues always play. I played them all the time, losing and gaining money all the time. It’s just something they do, Anzu. I can’t explain why. Admittedly, their games were probably much worse than ours, but the concept still applies.”

“It isn’t that – ”

“I know,” he cut in softly. “You’re my sister, of course I know why you are really angry. I would rather you be with him and be happy rather than be bitter over one mistake he made. Trust me, Anzu – and these are words coming from a reformed rogue – it’s hard adjusting to these things. Cut Malik some slack. He’s still learning how to maneuver through a relationship. He’s going to miss a few steps.” He smiled and then stood up. She hastily followed. “This is going to put a damper on your mood, if it’s not damp already, but I would advise for you to visit father. Mother’s gone missing, Shizuka has told me. She heard it from Isis, who actually heard it from Seto. Seto says that the word is that she’s run off with a younger, just as wealthy man. We shall probably see her next Season on the arm of the man and filing for divorce. But when I last saw father, he wasn’t looking too well. I would very much like for you to go see him. I think he would want to see you.”

“He was looking peaky when I reunited with him at the ball,” Anzu admitted in a concerned tone.

“Don’t take too much on, sister,” Otogi told her, tapping her on the head with his cane. “You’ll get gray hairs before too long.” She cast him an exasperated look at this just as a knock sounded on the door and the drawing room doors opened. Bakura poked his head in, smirking. Anzu appeared a bit apprehensive.

“Otogi and I must be going, you’re next visitor appears to be here,” he told her cheerfully enough. She nodded and followed Otogi out of the drawing room. She went to the door and opened it. Malik looked to her and then gave a thoroughly menacing look to Bakura, who grinned back at him. Otogi and Anzu both looked startled at the look on Malik’s face.

“If you’ve been causing more trouble for me...” Malik growled, sounding much like his older brother.

“I was here as an escort for Otogi,” Bakura told him reassuringly, tilting his head towards Otogi. “It appears that his wife wants to turn him into a pet rather than a husband. I had to break his leash or the poor idiot would become a candidate for Bedlam.” Malik’s expression was surly and distrustful, the only response he chose to give Bakura being a grunt of dismissal. “In any case, I have better things to do than mess with your life, Malik. I’m intending to mess up Otogi’s at the present. Hopefully by tonight I will convince his wife that he has turned homosexual because of my good looks.”

Malik raised his eyebrows, a corner of his mouth tilting upward grudgingly. “Quite the challenge, I daresay.”

“Yes, indeed,” Bakura agreed while Otogi sent warning daggers at him as he swaggered down the walk. Otogi muttered a farewell to Anzu, nodded to Malik, and pursued Bakura, waving his cane rather threateningly. Malik watched them a moment, wondering briefly if his friend – as irritated as Malik was with him, Bakura was still considered such – was about to be bludgeoned to death.

Malik turned back to the door where Anzu was standing and her eyes slowly roved from her two guests that had just left to the one now standing before her. Only Bakura would have seen how anxious she truly was about this meeting. She had to fold her hands in front of her lest Malik see how bad they were shaking. She hoped he had taken her hint as it was meant or else she would have to turn Malik away. She was done with courting and the games that a couple played with each other; she wanted permanence with him and nothing else. In fact, the only thing she wanted was him, all for herself. Selfish and a bit greedy, but it was the truth.

“Come in,” she said, ushering him inside much as she had with Bakura and Otogi. She did not linger in the foyer, though, leading him to the drawing room. She settled at the divan that she and Otogi had occupied while Malik remained standing. He seemed too restless to sit, anyway. For a moment, she said nothing, but watched him as he wandered aimlessly from the door to the other side of the room and then back again to stand in front of her, staring out the window vacantly. There was a crease between his eyebrows. “Malik...Will you not sit?”

“I don’t feel that I’m in a position to sit down,” was his curt, but not necessarily rude, response. His eyes drifted down to her.

“Very well...” She rose to her feet and stood staring at him before turning and walking a few feet away, tinkering with a quill on the desk before she straightened and turned around. “I see no reason why to pretend that things have been well these past few days and start with senseless talk about the weather. I might as well get straight to it. I want you to understand, Malik, that I’m not upset that you used me as a tool in your game with Marik and Bakura.” He flinched as she called herself a tool. “I’m not really all that educated when it comes to the ways of men in Society, but I’ve known my brother and he has kept nothing from me when it comes to his pursuits. Just today he has admitted he, too, involved himself in such games for money and whatever else there is to be gained. It probably wasn’t as violent as yours, though it hardly matters. I knew your reputations. Otogi made certain that I knew what type of person you were and it would have been hard not to realize what type of people Marik and Bakura were. It’s not as though I was blind.

“That is neither here, nor there, seeing as how I’m not particularly bothered by any of that. I’m irritated, Malik, because instead of you seeing that I was dedicating myself to you, after hearing me say that I loved you, you never told me. You never indicated you were going to tell me and from my point of you, it made it seem as though you thought that you were not at fault. I’m not really the person to be talking about secrets, but I felt betrayed. I thought you trusted me enough to enter a relationship with me without secrets. I opened you to every horrible, disgusting part of me that I hated and yet you did not even reward me with that one small thing. Instead I found out from Bakura, who I could tell did not even like the task of telling me. He hated it.”

For the first time, Anzu was glad that she could rage at someone other than herself or someone completely uninvolved in the entire affair. She was finally raging at the person behind the anger and injury. Spreading out her hands, she continued, “He stood right here in this room with me sitting at the divan, completely unaware, and he looked uncomfortable, disgusted, and apologetic. But even though he did, he told me straight out what he thought I needed to hear and he apologized because he knew that I should never have heard it from his mouth, Malik. Of all the people, he was the last person I should have heard it from and he knew that. I was stung. This was only awhile after you said you loved me, so I was shocked that I was hearing that you had used me for yours and Marik’s little bedroom game in the beginning and I was shocked because it wasn’t even Marik that told me. It was Bakura, the least involved of you three. All I wanted was to hear you say it because...Because I felt it would be like you had never done it if you told me about it. Instead, you hid it from me. The hurt would have been a little less. I didn’t even know you then, so what should I have cared?”

If Malik had been feeling bad when he first came into Anzu’s drawing room, it was nothing compared to the utter despair and shame that was washing over him, drowning him as he inwardly choked on it. He could not bear to stand there, watching her shake with suppressed rage, to see her bright eyes glistening with tears that were of a different emotion that he knew he caused and he hated it. At that moment, he would have given anything to feel what she was feeling so that she might not have that look on her face, a look that would be branded in his memory forever. It was as though he had carefully constructed a doll for a child and then smashed it before the child’s eyes. And, as he reflected, it was exactly that. He had built up an emotion in Anzu that she scarcely knew except for her father and had practically turned around and ripped that emotion from her. She could not know that in the process, he had done the same to himself. Seeing her in this state duplicated the process on himself.

“Anzu...,” he began and then stopped. He had always been such a smooth talker, always able to fix everything. ‘Don’t cry, I can make things better.’ ‘Stop yelling, I’ll talk to him.’ ‘Don’t worry, everything’s in order.’ But for once, he had no words to say to fix things. He had wronged Anzu and he couldn’t simply say, “I’m sorry,” because that surely was not enough. He could not lie and say that he had meant to tell her all along, nor could he say that he had been thinking on telling her for some time. He had never once thought about telling her, simply letting the problem vanish and remain hidden in his mind.

He lowered his eyes to the carpet, then to the window, and back to Anzu’s face. She had controlled her tears, but there was a dark satisfaction in her eyes, as if she had known all along that he had had no real explanation. “Fine...,” he said softly. “I won’t lie to you and try to say that I was planning on telling you – that would only make things worse. I never intending on telling you. Bakura thought I might have been, so he was a better man than I was in this case. I let it drop away, pretending that the issue didn’t exist. I didn’t think that anyone would tell you. There was only my family and Bakura that knew, so I figured things were fine as they were. I didn’t want you to know, Anzu, because I was ashamed and I felt guilty. Do you think I was proud of how I treated you after all of this? Do you think I honestly wanted you to know what type of person I am when it comes to other people?”

“But that’s who you are, Malik,” she said in a quiet voice, “just like the person you learned about is who I am. I killed Yami, Malik, yet no one would suspect I could kill a man. I’ve let you see all sides of me, but you’ve only let me see one.”

“No,” he answered, “I let you see one side of me and you didn’t like it. Do you remember? You told me that I was like a different person, that if I was going to be that person, you didn’t want me. Do you recall that?” Anzu stared at him. She did. She remembered the cold-eyed male that had stepped in the middle of a conversation shortly after she discovered that Otogi was missing, recalled how he had swiftly dealt with Shizuka’s accusations and had been altogether unpleasant.

“Yes, I remember,” she finally told him, “and I didn’t like it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a right to see it. How can I ever understand you if I don’t?” He looked at her wearily, as if she was more of a bother to him than anything. “You don’t tell me anything! You act as if you don’t want to tell me anything!”

“Anzu, just...Stop for one moment. I can sense you’re readying yourself for a right tantrum and you’ll feel like a fool at the end if you do,” he said, holding up his hands. “Listen to me...Listen. I know I haven’t been very open, but there were reasons for that. I don’t know anything except for the things I learned from Marik. Think for a minute. Your brother was like me and I imagine him it took Shizuka a long time before she pinned him down to marriage. I didn’t want to open myself to you. I’m ruled by shame, Anzu. If I’m ashamed of something or guilty, I block it out, get rid of it, or ignore it. I knew I was beginning to feel for you and had a good idea of how Marik would react. I didn’t want to seem weak to him, nor did I want to abandon him. And I thought that, if I did get attached to you, and it got far enough to be permanent, that I would have to give up my gaming hell. It’s not respectable, but it’s successful and I love running it. There was so much I could lose if I fell for you, so I tried hard to make it so that I was completely closed off from you. It worked only halfway.” He gave a slight, humorless smile. “And, even if I wasn’t against opening myself up to you, there wouldn’t have been much of a chance, would there, what with everyone after our throats and everything else that was going on.”

“But...afterward...” She paused at that because Malik had shown to be more willing to let her into his life. He had allowed his tender side to be seen by not only his family, but those outside his family when he visited her at Isis’s. He had seemed less inhibited in the small time between the end of her dilemma with Yami and their row; now she understood why that was. “Oh.”

“Yes...‘Oh,’” Malik said, allowing himself a small smile of amusement. “If Bakura had waited a bit longer to cause chaos and mayhem, you would not even be arguing this point with me, trust me.” His smile slid away and he looked sober again as he added, “But I am sorry for not telling you that. I should have...But Bakura should have spoken to me before going to you.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed. There was a pause, indicating that Malik had successfully passed that part of their discussion. It was clear, however, that there was to be another one that was to come after. Anzu appeared to be gathering her thoughts for it, almost as a warrior puts on his armor. Malik warily watched the play of emotions on her delicate face before she spoke again. “People spread rumors, not always to many people. I want you to be honest with me when I ask this, Malik, since you have already stated that your gaming hell is so precious to you.” Malik felt dread pass through him. Someone had told her something and he had a sinking suspicion it was either Seto or Isis, but it would wager money on the latter. “What are you going to do when I cut my ties off with you?” There was no ‘if’ in that question. He stared, alarmed at this distinction.

“You plan on doing that?”

“I might. It depends. But please, answer the question.” Anzu ran a finger over the feather of the quill in her hand. Her face was kept purposely blank so that she did not reveal any of her thoughts. “I was told you would give your gaming hell to Marik.”

“No.”

“No?” She repeated, frowning.

“I told Isis I was leaving England to move to the Continent and then giving my gaming hell to Marik, but I’ll be damned if I do that before I try my hand on you.”

“Why?” Anzu lowered the quill to her desk, her gaze fixed on him intently. “There’s no reason for it.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Anzu, don’t be daft, woman! Do you think I could go around London as though nothing had happened in my life after meeting you? I couldn’t stay here, not while knowing that you were here somewhere, that I might still see you. I would much rather hide out in some obscure country on the Continent rather than suffer here.”

“Did Isis give you my gift?” She abruptly asked. He gave her a blank stare. “Not the letter, but the other thing. Did she give it to you?” Anzu watched as he dug in the coat of his pocket. She could hear the chink of coins and then he withdrew his hand. He shifted through what was in his hand and then removed the plain wedding ring John Mackin had given her, the ring that had been on her finger since it was first placed there at their wedding. Without knowing it, Malik had passed the second part of the discussion and they were moving into what he suspected was the final part. “I’ve worn it even after I was finished with mourning. I feel that I am ready to be rid of it.” She raised her eyes to his meaningfully, almost as if she were asking him if he knew what that meant. He glanced down at his hand and amongst the coins was another ring, the one he had commissioned for her.

He returned the first ring to the pile of coins and took the second ring, dumping the rest back in his pocket. He stared down at it, feeling that this moment was far too real for him. He felt horribly ill, as if he might be sick any moment. “Seto and I went looking for a ring shortly after I saw you downstairs with Isis and Shizuka. I had been thinking, for a while, of getting a ring. Nothing was good enough, so I had one commissioned. Bakura made a mess of my timing so the ring’s been in my pocket for awhile now.” He raised his eyes to her face again, but now she was the one staring at the ring, looking as though she was not sure what to say. “I’m not exactly sure how this works out...” He awkwardly stated. She mumbled something incoherently, which was of no use to him, and looked at him. This time, the tears that caused her eyes to glisten did fall and this only dismayed Malik, whose nerves were already threatening to give up on him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry...” Anzu muttered, giving a shaky laugh. Malik stared at her, looking helpless and not at all like himself. She laughed and wiped her face. She was certain he would not look as uncharacteristic as he did just then. Malik seemed to realize she was laughing at him because he shoved a hand through his hair and sighed before approaching her, hardly daring to get too close in case she really was upset and wanted to hit him.

“I’m not much,” he admitted gracelessly, “in the ways of husbands, but...Will you marry me, Anzu?” More tears poured out and she covered her mouth, nodding her head. He seemed upset to have caused her to cry, but prodded, “Yes? You will marry me?” She nodded again.

“Yes...Yes, of course, of course,” she sputtered, wiping her eyes. “Ugh, I just wish I would stop crying. I can’t seem to, though...” Malik’s expression made it obvious that he wished she would stop, too. She blinked rapidly to stop the succession of tears and gave a watery smile as she looked down at the ring still clasped between his fingers. Suddenly aware, he took her left hand and slid the ring on her ring finger. She sniffled and raised her hand to her face, admiring it. “Oh, how beautiful, Malik...It’s just beautiful.” She started to cry again. Malik gave a slight twist of his mouth and pulled her against him, where she buried her face. “I was just so ready to get married to you. I was afraid you wouldn’t understand, but you had already planned on proposing, so...” She blubbered something else that Malik could not make out and did not attempt to do so.

“So...” Malik said when she had finished and was wiping her last tears. “Dare I suggest we tell everyone?”

“Oh, yes,” she agreed heartily. “I would like that very much. But my face...” She touched her tearstained cheeks and then shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll just think you’re a beast.” Malik sent her an alarmed look. This was not, he felt, something that they should believe. She grinned at him. “They already think that, Malik, it’s not as if it is anything different.”

“You are mistaking me for Marik, I fear,” he told her.

When they arrived at Isis’s, it was apparent that everyone was anxious to hear news of how Malik’s meeting went. Not only were the usual occupants, Isis and Seto there, but Bakura, Marik, Otogi, and Shizuka had all joined at Isis’s manor to await the verdict. When Anzu and Malik were led by Isis’s butler to the drawing room, there was a moment of hushed silence while many pairs of eyes stared at them, moving from Anzu’s tearstained face, to Malik’s confused stare at the amount of people and then down to where Malik’s hand was on her arm. After it passed, a burst of noise erupted. Isis and Shizuka throttled Anzu and all three women were sobbing on each other. Marik and Bakura gleefully clapped Malik on the back and Otogi shook his hand, looking delighted to be acquiring him as a brother-in-law. Seto waited until the general excitement had passed before Malik managed to approach him, looking a bit bemused. “What the hell was that about?”

“You’re the first of the three infamous rogues to get hitched,” Seto told him in a smug sort of way. “It’s not as though you should be surprised. They’re happy for you, Malik, although I am sure Marik and Bakura will be wistful later on. I think they will miss having you trolling the balls with them.”

“I can at least enjoy the duels with Marik, at least,” Malik answered easily.

“And the hells,” Seto added.

“That, too.” There was a pause in which the two of them stood and watched as the group before them chattered to each other. “I feel sick again,” Malik said, feeling his stomach churning nervously. Seto’s mouth slid into a smirk that Malik did not appreciate in the least. “This isn’t funny.”

“Oh, but I think it is,” Seto replied, smirking down at his companion. “You haven’t even set the wedding up yet and you’re getting ill. You got nervous before even I did.” Malik gaped at him, both irritated and shocked that he was poking fun at his anxiety. Seto chuckled and murmured, “Relax, Malik. You’re doing the right thing. I can tell that you wanted this far more than any other man getting married might have.” Malik said nothing for a moment, watching as Anzu finally detached herself from the two females and went to Marik, hugging him as if he had never called her fat only two days ago. “It’s amazing, the kind of cheer a wedding can bring people.”

“I imagine it’s worth dealing with in the end,” Malik said in a hopeful tone, glancing at Seto for confirmation. The Earl of Huntingdon gave his usual smirk, turning his cobalt gaze to meet Malik’s. The nausea that Malik had been feeling faded as he met that gaze. If anyone knew the position that he was in, it would be Seto. He cast a last look to Anzu, her face glowing and her mouth spread into a beautiful smile.

“Completely,” he assured.

Epilogue

Old eyes settled on the male seated across from him, amused and far livelier than they had been as of late. “You have become a rather annoying son-in-law, Ishtar,” Hathaway murmured, covering his mouth with folded hands. Malik presented him with a suave, obnoxious smile that was meant ideally for his father-in-law. Hathaway lowered his hands and said, “I’m not suicidal, nor am I a cripple. I can care for myself quite well, thank you.”

“I would not dare think otherwise,” Malik responded smoothly, “but I have eyes just as any other man. I saw how feeble you looked at the wedding.” His eyes dropped to the glass of brandy he held cupped in his hands and took a drink, adding, “Anzu was quite willing to postpone the honey moon for a few weeks. I have something special planned for it, anyway, that will take some time putting together. In the meantime, I figured I ought to be here to give you a reason not to lie down and never wake up again.” One of Hathaway’s eyebrows lifted in skepticism. “Don’t give me that look. I’m not stupid and neither is Anzu.”

“I would expect Anzu to be here if she is so worried,” he loftily remarked.

“I insisted on the job.”

“How...kind...of you.”

A tense silence fell between the two, deceptive smiles in place on their lips, neither moving. Malik had seized the chance to lift Hathaway out of what seemed to have been a bottomless depression. He took the man out to every ball, seeing as how both of their names were on every hostess’s list, introduced him to younger women, dragged him to the gaming hells, teaching him all the tricks of the cards, and argued with him about any intellectual topic he chose to raise. Malik had not given him a chance to ignore him, let alone protest or escape his efforts. If anything, he made it even harder for Hathaway to so much as think about any scheme to slip out of Malik’s grasp.

Although Malik did not say so, Anzu had requested Malik to try and talk her father out of his listless lifestyle, extending the request to his brother and Bakura, as well. Neither of them was particularly eager and while Malik was not either, he knew how devastated Anzu would be if Hathaway let himself fade into death and threw himself into the task with vigor. After all, arguing with Marik and Bakura was about the same thing and he generally knew their responses before they gave them. With Hathaway, the elderly male always had something different to say to him. There were many times he threw Malik off balance, a thing he sadistically enjoyed.

There was a knock on the doors and they lifted their gazes from each other as the door was opened by Albert. The doorman bowed respectfully and then stepped back to allow their guest inside. Otogi Mazaki beamed first at his father and then at Malik, greeting, “Hello, gentlemen. Thank you, Albert,” he added with a nod to Albert, who more or less ignored it and shut the door behind him. “He never did like me.”

“That would be because you were always pulling pranks on him as a child,” Hathaway said, chuckling. “Take a seat, Otogi.”

Otogi did as he bade, settling on the divan beside Malik. The drawing room was much more masculine since his mother had run off and divorced his father. He noted that Hathaway was looking more youthful, as well. Anzu had told him that Malik was pestering him, so he had come to see if he needed to intervene. As it happened, it appeared that his pestering was doing good for their father. “Have I been missing out on a party?” Otogi queried in mock hurt. “You could have at least told me you were annoying my father, Malik. I’m an expert at that, you know.”

“Are you now?” Malik returned interestedly, raising his eyebrows. “You are more than welcome to join me, of course.”

Hathaway sighed exasperatedly. “That is the last thing I need. Otogi will drive me crazy. His idea of annoyance is more than irksome...It is the reason Albert has always wanted to beat him over the head.” Otogi smirked in response, seeming to believe that was an accomplishment.

Another knock came on the door and Albert reappeared, not bothering to bow this time as two males moved into the room, devious looks on their faces. Malik released a breath, knowing that look on his brother’s face any day. Bakura waved Albert away and shut the door, leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest. Hathaway arched a brow as Marik moved to the desk and rested a hand on it, smirking. There was an aura around it, suggesting that he had a scheme to help Malik, one that would no doubt be more entertaining. Marik always was clever when it came to such things.

“Shall we play a game?” Marik asked in a soft, challenging tone.

“I wouldn’t dare to turn down the invitation,” Hathaway replied calmly. Otogi grinned towards Malik, who returned it with his own lazy smile.

This was going to be an interesting interlude.

Finis

X

DIS: This was my favorite story to write. I love it like a baby. It's currently in the process of being turned into an original fiction, but I still have a lot to add/change on it. Please leave a last review, telling me how you liked it, how I did with the ending, etc. Ciao.