A/N: Fearshipping AU written for the Yugioh fanfiction contest, season 9.75. All you need to know is that this story isn't told in chronological order, though all the events occur within twenty-fours of each other, and that Bakurah refers to Thief King Bakura.
Warnings: suicidal impulses, incest, noncon.
Half She Hates
The world smells like sunshine and cotton and Malik doesn't know where he is. He wakes slowly and opens his eyes grudgingly to a room colored soft blue by the dawn.
After a moment, things become familiar. He turns his head and meets clover-green eyes, crinkled at the edges in concern. "Sister, what am I doing here?" he asks while sitting up and stretching.
"You had a nightmare and came here. Are you feeling well now?"
"A nightmare?" Malik frowns. He can't recall having any dreams, and anyway, why would he go to Ishizu instead of Rishid? But he decides not to worry about it. For once he feels well-rested, and he needs to get ready for school. He heads for the door and does not hear Ishizu sigh in relief or see her bury her face in a pillow.
Malik holds a dagger of tiny circles in cupped hands. Shoulders shake and breath catches because he's one swallow away from the
end and i'll begin
He wonders if Rishid will find him in time. Maybe he hopes so.
"Get any chocolate today, Ishtar?" asks the bastard, the smirker, the enemy-of-his-enemy-but-hardly-a-friend.
"Don't start a contest you'd never win, Bakurah," Malik retorts.
It's Valentine's Day and Malik tallied eight confessions sweetened with chocolate. He's the school's slightly more approachable Egyptian; the girls too intimidated by Bakurah's height, muscle mass, and crimson eyes flock instead to him.
they think we're good kind if only they knew, if only they no one knows
"You turn them all down, or are you getting any tonight?"
Revulsion bubbles in Malik's stomach at the thought of touching any of those worthless, blushing girls. "Maybe you'd lower yourself like that, but..."
there's only her, one for me, us, me
"Ha, I've no interest in these colorless foreigners," he brags, though this is Japan and they the outsiders. "Now, if it were your sister..." he adds with a purr.
Malik stiffens with sudden fury.
TELL HIM, TELL HIM SHE'S OURS
He sinks into silence as the voice awakens and numbs his senses. Bakurah just looks at him and laughs, "You're off your rocker, Ishtar," as always, as always.
Malik has nightmares, Malik is a nightmare, but Ishizu wonders, is Malik Malik? "Open your eyes, lovely sister," someone with fingers deep inside her murmurs.
She does not open her eyes and her arms stay raised above her head even though she's trying so hard to escape. Blindfold and belt trap her with the stranger she knows best.
The pills soften and taste sour on his tongue.
"Malik, what are you doing?" Ishizu cries.
she won't let us die? i don't i'll never die malik
"Stop me," he says, eyes fading to a dangerous, dull lavender. "Kiss me."
She takes the bottle, leftover pills clattering within.
He taunts, "You missed a few," then connects their lips
so soft like a dandelion puff get more for me malik
and gives her the half-dissolved pills.
His sister is a goddess. That's what he decides, and what he's always known. He slips the blindfold down to see those tear-filled eyes, so beautiful from pain.
But she's not crying for herself, he can tell.
don't worry about us we have all we've ever wanted you're welcome malik i hate you i love her she loves you she hates me
who are you
what did i do last night
why are you asking me ask yourself
"Tell me!" Malik shouts at the bathroom mirror. The only answer is a raised eyebrow from Bakurah, standing at the sink beside him.
After all, the voice only talks when he doesn't want to hear.