OH SHIT SON, AN UPDATE. AND NOT ANY UPDATE, THE FINAL CHAPTER. GOD YES. I mean- wait, I'm supposed to reflect here about how I liked this fic, right? :| Oh well. Well- it's the second multichaptered fic I've finished, the first being Stalker. It was fun, good times. But now it must end. However, still keep me on author alert, because the next full length fic that I'll be writing will be ~yuri~. THAT'S RIGHT, YOU PERVERTS, DELICIOUS TITS, but of course it'll be genderbent since Yuugiou's female cast is- sad. MalikxTouzouku. With tits. And porn. You heard it. So finish Ba'ed, review, and have fun~!
It had been a month. A month's time, since Mariku had left the boredom and began to live in gilded normality. Not of free will, though. Forcibly. It had been a month since Mariku had been forced out of his prison of darkness and into life with Namu. Time, the passing of days… it was such a strange concept. There was no time while he lived in the darkness, no days or night. But was there truly time when he lived with Namu, either? Mariku didn't know, and he wasn't sure if he cared either.
And while it had not been true living, the mock passing of time that Mariku went through took its toll on him. He was perpetually incarcerated with Namu's company. Always, always Namu was there. Namu was there in the morning, Namu was there in the afternoon, Namu was there at night, and Namu was there at every waking moment of Mariku's life. Namu liked him, perhaps loved him. It lived to entertain and be with him, to talk with him and take him places it had created. But Mariku had not been created to appreciate the kind of verbiage that Namu showed him. Mariku lived to destroy and hate, and the more that he was forced to accept acceptance itself, the more desperate he became.
He was going insane, and he knew it. Or, more that, he was growing sane. He could feel the hatred within himself extirpate, the need to hurt becoming less and less frequent, and most of all, the slow realization that perhaps, just maybe, he was something other then a tool of destruction. But it hurt. It hurt his mind, these facts, for who WAS he without his hatred, his misnomered identity? Namu reassured him that he would find the answer on his own, but Mariku had never been one to let things come to him; he came to them.
With each day that passed, the weight dragged more and more on him, physically and mentally. It was hard to think in the way that he always had. The angry thoughts became less and less, replaced by guilt when they surfaced. He would find reasons to forgive, instead of hate. And if there could be only one thing that he was allowed to resent, it would be the voice of reason. It became more and more prominent within his mind, overshadowing his malevolent mindset. It made him trust Namu.
Namu was kind, thoughtful, and childish, with an air of naivety. It did not seem to be affected by his surroundings, never reflecting on the prison where they had been situated. It remained cheerful when Mariku reminded it that they were trapped, that the world it had created was fake, and that neither of them were human. And when Mariku screamed, broke down into hysterical anger, Namu remained neutral. Mariku would exhaust himself, and when he was too tired to scream anymore, Namu would come back and talk to him, touch him, be with him. Namu was security and reassurance. A lie, for it was also his imprisoner and the object of his confusion.
His relationship with the monster had grown from being tedious to a sort of amity. Because it was true that Namu liked him, and acted as such. And maybe- Mariku liked it back, as well? He told himself time and time again that that was false, that the only reason that thought surfaced was because of their situation, but- …still. They spent so much time together, so many long hours, filled with either peace or excitement. Mariku grew to know Namu more intimately. The way it moved, how it talked, all of its little quirks that made it itself. And so Mariku's mind made a circle back to where it had been before.
If Namu was a creation of Malik's mind, how could it have its own personality, its own life? And, if Namu was truly unique, what was Mariku? Mariku was both a scapegoat and a necessity for Malik, Namu was not. Who was he? What was he doing? What was his purpose? These questions hurt in a way he wasn't truly able to understand. Confusion. Confusion meant that Mariku didn't have a direction. Where was he going? He was going to kill Namu and take back Malik's body, right?
…Yes, that was right. It was hard to keep track of his plan, as ambiguous as it was. Namu often distracted him from it, with its company and its constant gibbering as they explored each new place the monster had created. But, no. That was his plan, and he needed to execute it, no matter what the cost. Namu held him back. Namu made him weak, vulnerable with emotion. Emotion was foreign, not needed. Emotions were shackles, and they held him back, capturing both his body and mind, leaving him open to be attacked. Mariku would not let that happen. The questions that plagued him were trivial, and the ache in his heart could be eradicated easily once he killed Namu. Because, above all, Mariku was the true monster, and he would do whatever it took to regain his body.
Mariku glared at the TV, gabbing the remote's volume button up higher as Namu's cooking sounds grew even louder. Namu had decided for a change of scenery and decided that they would live in a house. 'For normality', it had said, but Mariku suspected the real reason was so that Namu could play housewife. …Which it did surprisingly well, Mariku hated to admit. It was just another game, this playing house of its. It liked to pretend that Mariku worked at a financial office (ironically, since Mariku hardly even knew basic math (Malik concentrated more on playing card games then actually learning)) and that it was his wife, and would shove him out the door, telling him that it was time to go to work (which usually meant that Mariku had to entertain himself for a couple of hours) before it let him back into the house, a meal ready on the table.
Today, however, since it was the weekend, Mariku didn't have 'work', and Namu let him stay inside. Since Namu had discovered how much fun it was to cook him food, it tended to stay in the kitchen often, meaning Mariku was once again left to his own devices to entertain himself. Which didn't work out well when he could barely hear the TV over the noise Namu made in the kitchen. Namu was clumsy and had a habit of making little yelps when it burned itself or dropped something or- well it was cute the first couple of times, but the more it did it, the more Mariku's mood soured. Sinking down farther into the couch, Mariku growled when he realized he'd flipped through all of the channels on the TV, with absolutely nothing interesting playing.
"Namu!" Mariku had to yell over the sound of the TV and of oil simmering in the kitchen. "Are you almost done!?"
Mariku waited a patient seven seconds before yelling again after getting no reply.
"Just wait a little while, Mariku~" Its voice drifted with a singsong ending, and Mariku frowned at the idea that it was so happy. Namu was always so happy… "Why don't you go upstairs and clean up the mess you made?"
Mariku glanced to the side, ignoring the television. That was… a possibility. It would be quieter upstairs, too. Not as loud as it was down here. Picking up the remote, Mariku turned off the TV, and fumbled for the light switch, since it was pitch black outside and the glare from the TV had been the only light in the room.
Stumbling blindly for a few moments when the light switch decided not to work, Mariku mad his way up the stairs, stepping over piles of clothes and unknown objects that he had thrown in his fit earlier. Mariku's little fits of violence and hysteria were becoming increasingly more erratic and unpredictable. Little things set him off, things that normally wouldn't even make him mad, even when he had lived in rage. That morning, it had been Namu ironing his shirt. He didn't- know why, but it- just made- him so mad. So, so mad. So refreshingly mad, and he acted as such. He never knew why he did things when he was mad, all he knew was that he wanted to destroy, and fuck it felt good to do so.
Mariku frowned, feeling a bit guilty when he stepped on Namu's broken picture frame, one of the things he had thrown earlier. He didn't know why he had it, but then again, he didn't know why Namu had any of the things it did. Sighing, Mariku rubbed his hand over it and got to work, slowly picking up and tidying the mess in the hallway. Lots of clothes; he remembered getting into the dresser and flinging them out. Some were ripped, and so Mariku threw them away, getting a black trash bag which he then kept with him as he cleaned. More things went into the trash bag then were put back into place. Mariku was destructive, which was… normal, right?
He moved slowly through the hallway, feeling uneasy the more he inspected the damage he had done, especially when he heard Namu's occasional hum that drifted up from downstairs. Mariku looked to the side, and picked up a wadded up pair of pants that was stuck under the bathroom door. He tugged at it, but it was stuck. Opening the door, Mariku flipped on the bathroom light and kneeled down to yank the shirt out from under the door, stumbling back a bit when he used too much force then what was necessary. Ready to turn, Mariku paused when something caught his eye.
It wasn't much, just a little glint of something hidden in a drawer that was partly open. That's all it was, just a little sliver of reflection. But still, Mariku was captivated. Dropping the trash bag, Mariku stepped quietly over to the counter, and pulled the drawer all the way open. Digging through hairbrushes and washcloths, Mariku paused when he found what had glinted. His eyes lowered, and his breathing seemed to slow. Each breath that passed his lips was soft, quiet. Mariku was transfixed.
Turning quickly to the door to check that Namu wasn't coming, Mariku grabbed the knife and darted to his bedroom, slamming the door shut. Collapsing onto his bed, Mariku examined what he held in his hands. A knife. A beautiful, sharp knife, hidden in the bathroom. It was gorgeous, and holding it made Mariku feel euphoric. He could almost imagine what it would feel like to use it, on flesh. But- why. Why would Namu have this in the bathroom? What was it for? Mariku didn't care. Mariku didn't care, because Mariku now had the means. Holding it up directly in front of his eyes, Mariku licked it slowly, tasting the metallic tang. Mariku had the means. It was so- simple, but it reminded him. Mariku had a way out. Mariku could kill Namu with the knife. Mariku wouldn't have to use his hands to strangle it; he could just- just stab him, like he had done with the rod. It was fate, Mariku knew, and he could feel bloodlust pound through him, his heart rate increase. He would leave. He would kill Namu and-
"Mariku~!" Mariku dropped the knife, almost cutting his tongue as his head whipped around to the door. "Dinner is ready~" He could hear Namu calling up from the bottom of the stairs.
Scowling at his clumsiness, Mariku jumped up and raced to the door, scared that he might have somehow been found out. Heart beating fast as he almost literally bolted down the stairs to where Namu was standing, Mariku tried hard not to smile as it touched his arm.
"You're smiling?" Namu blinked, confused, and one of the tentacles slithered around its waist. "Did you clean up good?"
"Yeah, I-" Mariku stopped himself, and then cleared his voice, pushing down his excitement in favor of his usual scowl. "Yeah. …I'm hungry."
Mariku was relieved when his mention of food distracted Namu from his unnatural happiness. Clapping its hands together excitedly, Namu hurried him into the kitchen where it had actual mounds of food gathered.
"For you, Mariku." Namu led him to a chair, and pushed him down, regardless of Mariku's consent. Frowning, Mariku waited for Namu to sit down next to him, and his frown deepened when he realized that Namu would be doting on him.
"I made everything," The monster said, grabbing a bowl of what looked like mashed potatoes, and spooning a large portion onto his plate, "I hope you like it, I tried to make it taste like it would in the outside world. But there are a lot of spices, you know? I don't even know what most of them are. Do you think Malik ever ate them? Oh, wait, he must have, or then I wouldn't know what they were. Have you had them? I bet you'll like it, don't you?"
Namu blabbered, and Mariku played along, as usual. He was given many different foods, vegetables and soups and meats (which Mariku kept far away from). And- he didn't really mind. He didn't mind that he was forced to sit down and eat the things that the monster had cooked for him, didn't mind the smell of all the foods that sat in front of him, didn't mind the tentacles that twisted around him, or the conversation that Namu made. He didn't mind any of it, and Mariku forgot about murder, and the knife that he had left on his bed. Instead, Mariku slowly began to smile, and enjoy the things around him.
They had long finished eating, and had sat together quietly at the table, too full to move or do anything else except make light conversation.
"Hmm?" Mariku's eyes were closed, and he almost missed Namu saying his name. A groggy reply was all he could muster from where his head lay on the table. Faintly, Mariku could feel one or two tentacles sliding softly over him.
"What would you do if you had your body back?" Namu's voice was soft, and Mariku couldn't tell its expression from its tone of voice. Mariku shifted in his seat.
"I would-"Mariku paused, tired, the effort to speak almost overwhelming, but not enough to overshadow the idea. "Go somewhere far away."
"Because…" Why? "I could- leave everything behind. No more remembering, no more Malik. Just me."
"Would you kill his brother and sister?"
"Mmm… Maybe. Rishid, yes, Rishid I would. Isis- no, I wouldn't kill Isis, she would just suffer with the knowledge." Mariku's eyes opened just a tiny bit, and his vision was blurry, but he could see Namu who sat next to him, his head also laying on the table, his face turned towards him, crying.
"Would you be happy, Mariku?" Namu's eyebrows were not furrowed, his face was not anguished, but still- tears. Why? Mariku closed his eyes, tired.
"No, never happy, I'd never- be happy. But I'd- have what I'd always wanted."
"What do you want, Mariku?"
"I want- my own life. Freedom. To not be in the dark, and I want them to HURT." Mariku's hands suddenly became fists, and his fingernails dug in hard into his palms. The tentacles that had been petting him suddenly pulled away, and tentatively returned after Mariku released the breath he had been holding and relaxed. They were comforting. "I just want what everyone else was born with."
Namu said nothing for a while, and Mariku began drifting towards sleep, when again, Namu said his name. "…Mariku?"
"…I love you."
"Mmm…" Namu had never said that… But Mariku was too tired to think the words through.
"No, Mariku, I-" Namu sounded a bit panicked, and he could hear its chair scraping against the floor. "We really love you."
"Hmm…" Mariku didn't pay much attention when Namu began touching him, although it made him jump since he wasn't expecting it, waking him wake up. Namu liked to touch him, it wasn't out of the ordinary. Relaxing, Mariku's frown returned but it was only slight as Namu kissed his neck. He leaned his head to the side and looked up at the ceiling, feeling the monster touch him and kiss him. It wasn't bad. In fact, it was never bad.
Namu was eager, and Mariku was treated almost like a doll as Namu climbed on his lap. There were kisses all over his face, his neck, his arm- any shred of skin that Namu could reach. It seemed desperate as it kissed him, sloppily, its tongue dragging across his skin before it grabbed its head and kissed him on the lips. This, Mariku wasn't used to, and only tentatively did he rest his hand on Namu's lower back, and kiss him back. Doing so seemed to excite Namu, and it broke away, breathing heavily and smiling.
"I love you." Namu's smile seemed too big for its face. "I do. I realized I do. We love you. You're our best friend."
"No, nono, you don't understand, we love you. We love you so much, Mariku. You're not alone." Namu kissed him again, and at once the tentacles swarmed over him, petting and touching and rubbing. Mariku groaned, the sensations almost too overwhelming. Namu's mouth was so wet.
"Let's go upstairs." Namu's voice was hurried, and he kissed his chest, nipping at his collarbone. The tentacles grew more excited and forceful, as if each demanded to be recognized as a separate being, which, Mariku supposed, they were. "Please. Mariku-"
"Okay." He wasn't sure if his voice would work, but it did, and Mariku could barely stand when Namu leapt off his lap and began dragging him up the stairs.
They had to take short breaks in between, when Namu got too excited and pushed him against the wall, but Mariku didn't let himself be dominated, and it was short lived. He was growing hot, quickly, with all of its words and touches, and the tentacles that slithered between his legs. The stairs were difficult, but they managed to make their way up them. Mariku barely had time to think when he was pushed up against his bedroom door, Namu's mouth smothering his in a sloppy kiss, when the monster reached behind him to turn the knob.
Mariku's mind flashed, and he broke away from the kiss, reaching behind him to set his hand on Namu's, keeping it from opening the door. Because he couldn't let Namu in. Namu would see the knife, and- and his plan would be ruined. That is… unless he had a distraction.
"Namu," Mariku said, lowering his eyes and voice, his breath hot as he wound his arms around its neck, pulling it as close as possible, "God, Namu…" He rubbed his hips against Namu's, and the tentacles between them. "You're going to help me, right?" Grabbing its hand, Mariku kissed it as he jerked it to his crotch where he rubbed it through his pants.
Looking flustered and excited at Mariku's own enthusiasm, Namu responded and rubbed its fingers against his lips, the fabric of his pants making the feeling rough. "Y-Yeah-"
"Hmm." Mariku hummed, grinding against him, sucking on his jaw. Feeling that Namu was properly distracted, Mariku turned the knob of the door behind him, and let them stumble into the room. One of the tentacles tried to flip on a light, but Mariku stopped it, his heart beating fast when he realized that the light might reflect too brightly off of the knife.
"Namu~" His tone was as feminine as he could have possible made it, and it took an effort. Mariku was not feminine, and never wished to be. "Turn around."
"Just do it." A sudden harsh tone and snappy reply was out of place, and Mariku realized it quickly. Covering up his scowl with seductive looks and softer touches, Mariku broke away from Namu. They both breathed heavily. "You'll like it."
"That means the tentacles, too." Namu looked guilty as the tentacles that remained out slowly slithered back behind him. It paused, but eventually, Namu turned to face the wall.
Mariku's façade immediately dropped, and he bolted to the bed, searching around blindly for the knife, and cursing himself that he didn't let Namu turn on the lights. Instead, the knife found him, and Mariku yelped when he cut his middle and ring finger on the blade.
"Are you okay?" Namu turned its head slightly, and Mariku panicked.
"N-No no, it's okay! I just- I just caught my skin in my zipper. Don't turn around."
Namu obeyed, and Mariku exhaled the breath he had been holding. Keeping the knife laying safe on the bed next to him, Mariku pulled off his top as fast as he could, and grabbed the knife, making sure that it was hidden in the cloth. He tossed the shirt over the side of the bed, and kicked his pants off shortly after. Mariku wore no bra, and his underwear came off quickly. Making sure that the knife was perfectly hidden, Mariku smiled when it was, and reclined against the bed.
"Namu." Mariku shifted, spreading his thighs just a bit, and shook his hair out just a bit. "Come over here." Obeying, Namu reached him in almost no time, if not clumsily.
"M-Mariku-" It eyed him hungrily, reaching out to touch the inside of his thigh, but Mariku grabbed its wrist right before they made contact.
"Ah-ah, Namu, ask before you take." Mariku smirked, and placed its hand against his thigh, moving so that Namu could feel how wet he had gotten.
"P-Please." Namu's voice was small and strained, and Mariku almost laughed. He had power. A few tentacles crept out from behind its back, waiting anxiously.
"Just because you asked…"
It was barely a word of consent, but Namu jumped on it, and Mariku, literally. Its hands grabbed his face, and it kissed him repeatedly on the lips. The tentacles swarmed and covered him, almost not knowing where to go, with all the new access to Mariku's skin, without clothes. They were greedy, and fought with each other for who would get to touch where, Mariku's more intimate areas reserved only for the strongest.
Namu licked down his neck and over his collarbone, sucking on the skin right above his small breasts. Its eyes were closed, and the way that it seemed so happy made Mariku's heart give a sudden twang. But he ignored it, and only encouraged the monster, resting a hand on the back of its head and leading him down farther. Namu paused briefly on his nipples, and squeezed his breasts with both hands. The sensation within itself wasn't too exciting, but it made Mariku moan anyway.
Encouraging it to move lower, Mariku jerked his hips up against it, and rocked against it. Namu's hands shook with what seemed to be excitement, and Mariku threw his head back when it tentatively licked at his pussy. Almost shy at first, Namu warmed up when Mariku reassured it that it was doing well, with moans and words that begged it to continue. Mariku could feel its tongue on his lower lips, ghosting over his clit, and focusing on tormenting him by not licking it fully. Moaning in frustration, Mariku bucked upwards, and growled when Namu held his hips down. Namu mouthed against him, flattening its tongue out and licking near the inside of his vagina. Mariku shuddered, and squinted up at the ceiling. It was hard to concentrate on anything, but there was nothing to concentrate on other then the feeling of Namu's fingers carefully moving into him as it finally sucked on his clit. His thighs trembled, Namu still licking and sucking at him while its fingers began to move out then in, out and then in, o-out and-
"N-Namu." Mariku had thought that he couldn't speak before, through the feelings, but now it was a literal effort to form words. "N-Not yet, or I'll cum too soon." He could feel it, that itch inside of him, that want to be filled and pounded into. But he couldn't cum yet. He didn't want to.
Namu looked up at him, its face flushed. It kissed his stomach right above his pubic hair before moving away and laying down next to him. Its eyes lowered, and Mariku watched as its chest rose and fell. There was something about it that put Mariku on ease. That humanity, breathing… Mariku shook it away, and opted for climbing over Namu, hands on either side of its head.
"Come one." His voice was thick as he watched its expression. Namu looked a bit cornered, but eager. "Do you love me, Namu? I want you." Tentacles wound around his waist, and a particularly thick one tried to push between his legs, but Mariku pulled it away. Dipping his body ever slightly, Mariku rubbed his lower lips against Namu's leg, groaning at the pressure against his clit. He moved back and forth, pleasuring himself against him, and always, always watching Namu, as Namu gulped and writhed.
"Y-yes, we do love you. We love you Mariku!" Namu reached out for him, lunged, but Mariku shoved it back against the bed, and it bounced slightly on the mattress.
Mariku wagged his finger, and tutted. "No-no, Namu, don't be so hasty. Relax." And Mariku made sure that Namu did, made sure that the only way he could tell that it wanted him was by the way it chewed its bottom lip, and now the tentacles slithered around his inner thighs. "It feels good, doesn't it?" Mariku wondered briefly if it was all just an act. He had never acted like this before, but somehow, it didn't feel quite fake.
"Y-yes." Namu's hands twitched as Mariku resumed his leisurely grinding against its leg. Namu, though, remained clothed, as always. Its body was not human.
"You want me, don't you?" Mariku smirked, and continued to rub against it.
"Y-Yes!" It looked as though Namu could barely contain itself, and for once, Mariku decided to have mercy.
"Then show me."
The monster and the tentacles needed no more word, and almost immediately, Mariku felt himself being assaulted. Gasping when the thick tentacle entered him, Mariku was jerked forward, and he fell onto his elbows, resting slightly on Namu's chest. The tentacles were erratic, and they barely set a pace, just rocking into him over and over again. Mariku's mind swarmed, and a constant stream of moans left his lips. He spread his thighs farther, feeling so full, but not enough so. There was an itch inside of him, and it begged to be rubbed against. It needed to be touched.
His eyes squeezed shut when the first tentacle released inside of him, and was quickly ushered away by three or four smaller ones that thrust quickly inside to take its place. Namu kissed his cheek and reached between them to rub Mariku's clit while the tentacles rocked back and forth out of him. Mariku's mind was overwhelmed, and thought nothing of it when he reached out to suck on one of the tentacles, needing to do something with his mouth anyway.
Jerking his eyes open and letting go of the tentacle in his mouth, Mariku gasped when the four tentacles made way for a fifth, and rubbed against his g-spot. He clenched around them, and his thighs trembled, bucking his hips towards Namu's hands. They made the same movements again and again inside of him, and Mariku could feel the way they slithered in and out, excreting that liquidy substance. He was hot, so hot hot hot. Mariku barely even comprehended it when Namu kissed him, their tongues pushing against each other.
Mariku's bucking increased as he felt, again, that building pressure within him. He felt it all over, and it made his knees weak and his mind hazy. A new set of tentacles had entered him, and Mariku cried out each time they hit that itch within him. He couldn't control his limbs anymore, and the strain of kneeling took too much of a toll on his tired body. Mariku collapsed onto Namu's chest, his legs spreading as wide as they could possibly go, and he panted, kissing its chest.
"Mariku," Namu's eyes were closed, a deep flush on its face as it sweated just slightly, "I love you."
His breath hitched in his throat when the pressure became unbearable, seething hot and wet, need burning to a mounting summit. "N-Namu, I'm going to cum!"
Mariku screamed when he reached orgasm, tightening around the tentacles inside of him as his vision exploded into white. He choked on air and words, toes clenching, riding it out and feeling as the tentacles still continued to thrust in and out of him until they reached their end as well. Breath was short and erratic, that itch finally feeling satisfied. It was euphoric, and Mariku didn't have the strength to roll himself over. But almost as quickly as it came, it left.
He panted, and rest his head on Namu's chest, feeling the cum ooze out of him and drip down his leg. He closed his eyes, and laid still as the tentacles covered him, wiping him clean and moving him into a more comfortable position. Next to him, Namu said nothing, and Mariku was thankful. After laying next to it for a minute or two, Mariku shivered, and inched next to it. The feeling of Namu reaching over to lay a hand on his hip didn't make him frown.
"We love you."
"…I love you too, Namu." Mariku thought nothing of it when Namu began to silently cry. It didn't seem sad. It wasn't a sob. It was happiness.
Mariku woke with a jolt in the middle of the night, jerking up with eyes wide open, heart pounding and breathing hard. His eyes darted around, and adrenaline pumped through his veins. How had he almost forgotten? Would he have just stayed asleep? Namu shifted next to him and scooted closer, missing his warmth. Mariku's teeth suddenly clenched, and he ripped the blankets off of him, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand.
The floor was cold against his bare feet, but he paid no attention. Searching blindly along the ground, he smiled when he found his pile of clothes. Carefully rummaging through the fabric, Mariku gulped when he felt the handle of the knife. The shirt was ripped in his haste to stand, knife clenched hard next to him.
This was it, this was really it. He was going to leave, he was going to get his life back. No! Not back, he never had it before! He was going to earn it. Mariku grinned so hard that he felt as if he could exhale excitement instead of carbon dioxide. He crossed the floor in a few short steps to make it back to the bed, and crawled onto it on his hands and knees, hearing the mattress groan with his weight.
Kneeling over Namu, Mariku hummed and brushed a piece of its bangs out of its face. It looked so peaceful, happy… No, Mariku would have no regrets. Namu was created to keep him locked up. Without Namu, Mariku would be able to leave, to live! He clenched the knife in his hands, and raised it above his head, ready to plunge it into its chest. But the second his arms began to move, Mariku felt himself being restrained.
A tentacle wound around his arm, holding him solid, and Mariku had forgotten about how strong they were. He growled low, and tried to shake it away, but it would not budge.
"Fuck…" His voice was low, in both anger and to not wake Namu, "Get off of me!"
The tentacle seemed to be confused, and rubbed lovingly and questioningly against him. This one was not intelligent, it didn't know what he was doing, but it somehow understood the danger of the situation. But Mariku would not hurt Namu, or at least, that's what it thought.
Growing angrier, Mariku knew he had few moments to act, and so he grabbed the tentacle and swung his arm down in one thrash, cutting it in half. Black immediately began to ooze from it, blood, and it pulled back behind Namu in terror and anguish. Heart beating wildly, Mariku glanced down at Namu's expression to make sure it hadn't noticed. It's face flashed briefly with slight pain, but other then that, Mariku had been undetected.
Mariku sighed, and wiped some of the blood off of his arm. But once he was ready to try again, more tentacles replaced the one he had cut.
"Goddamnit!" Mariku swore a little too loudly, and thrashed as they tried restraining him. "Let go of me! Get off, get off!" A few more well aimed slashes, and a good number of tentacles lay severed next to him. Adrenaline over took his body, and Mariku completely forgot about the volume of his voice.
"…Mariku?" Namu's voice was groggy, and the sound of it made Mariku's blood turn cold with dread. Oh shit. "What are you doing?"
Mariku said nothing, could say nothing as the tentacles slowly unwound from him. He stared down at Namu with wide eyes, blood splattered over his face, arms, breasts, and hands. Time itself seemed to stop as Namu slowly began to realize what had happened, and its eyes flicked down to the knife in his hands and the bloody tentacles that lay next to him.
It looked as though Namu was about to cry, and its voice caught in its throat, choking slightly before looking back up at him. Slowly, Namu reached out to him, and covered his bloody hand that clenched the knife in its own. Mariku said nothing.
"Do it." Namu's voice was so soft, so incredibly kind.
"W-What?" Mariku own was hoarse, and emotion seemed to hit him like a freight train. What- what was he doing? What was he thinking of doing!? Mariku was brought quickly to reality, horrified.
"Kill me, Mariku. You know that we're the only thing keeping you chained here."
"Namu, I can't, I-"
"Yes you can, Mariku!" Namu sat up suddenly and grabbed his shoulders with both its hands, slit pupil eyes burning with determination. "You are the only thing that has ever made us happy. You are the only thing that we live for. You are what makes us Namu. We found who we our, why we exist. We exist to care for you, Mariku. There are no more questions, that is who we are, and we could not be our self if you did not exist. You are you. You are not Malik, you are not an imagination or a lie; you are what we live for. And we want you to live. Be happy. More then anything else, Mariku, we want you to be h-happy."
Namu was crying again, but it didn't seem sad. It wasn't a sob. It was happiness. Namu was crying in happiness. Mariku's hands shook.
"We want you to l-live. We want to give and give and give, not just take. We've only taken, before. We kept you here. Selfish." Namu looked away, turned its face into its arm and hiccupped with tears before looking back. "But… we want to be remembered, too. We want you to remember us, because we love you, and want you to be happy."
"Namu…" Mariku felt like throwing up emotion. He had felt it before… emotion, but now… Now it hit him. Hard. Incredible, aching sadness. Like nothing he had ever felt before. It made him want to sob, die. It was too much to handle. Human emotion. For the first time, Mariku grieved, and Mariku felt. Mariku dropped the knife. "I-I can't, I l-love y-"
"You said, that if you regained your body, you would never be happy. And maybe not, Mariku, but you would be alive." There was so much hurt in its voice, so much emotion and passion. Mariku felt himself crying as tentacles slowly wound around his limbs. "We got what we want. We wanted a friend, to never be alone again, to be happy and smile. You gave us that. Mariku… let us give you what you wan- deserve."
And Namu kissed him softly. Mariku did not respond, was too torn with grief to understand. He didn't understand any of it. He had thought he wanted out, but Mariku was happy. Now he was happy. His entire life he had wanted his body, freedom. But Mariku had become human, Mariku felt and Mariku loved. He wasn't the Mariku he had been before, during Battle City. That Mariku mourned for what he had not had; a choice. He had known that Malik would again imprison him, and so he had done what he did best during fear; he hated and destroyed. But Mariku had a choice, now. He was not the same as he had been before. Mariku had grown to be- someone. Mariku was someone. He was himself, and he loved Namu.
It was Namu who broke away first, and it gave him a shaky smile, before picking the knife up into its own hands.
"No! No, no, nono, NAMU DON'T!" Tentacles wound around him, and he struggled, kicking and screaming and sobbing in grief and actual pain. Mariku felt pain.
Namu said nothing, but smiled, and grabbed the knife in both hands, jabbing it into its stomach. Over, and over, and over again. Blood squished through its fingers, and it screamed in pain, but still, Namu stabbed itself. Tears poured down Mariku's face, and he fought harder then he'd ever had before to save the monster in front of him.
The tentacles around him started to slacken, and Mariku's vision became murky. He could see Namu. Its hands lay at its sides, the knife gone, bleeding, gushing horrible, horrible inhuman blood. Mariku lunged, desperate, but he could barely see. Everything was white, grey, unrecognizable. He was sobbing, and Namu was smiling, mouthing something as the last tentacle around him dropped away; lifeless.
"Malik? Malik, are you okay?" Isis held the back of his head, looking worried. "You just fainted. …What is it? Malik, are you alright?"
Mariku was crying. Mariku was sobbing, and Mariku felt tears on his face. Tears, real tears, cooled by the air around him as they dripped down his cheeks, never stopping.
"Are you going to be okay?"
Mariku shoved her away, and Isis stumbled back, shocked, and the restaurant full of people began to look their way. Slowly, Mariku stood, wobbly, on his feet, on the ground. The real ground.
"N-No, I'm not okay, I'm never going to be okay."
There was a breeze on his face, real wind, oxygen. Sunshine. So much feeling, sensation. Life coursed through him, blood in his veins and real air that filled his lungs. Mariku was free. Mariku was alive. But Mariku would never be happy.