Blah.

The thing about going on long trips and excursions is that they tend to leave one with a slight feeling of emptiness after everything is said and done. Like coming down from a metaphorical "high", if you will. Malik was currently coming down from one of those "highs". The past couple of weeks had been quite hectic, what with things like the cruise, the various events aboard it, curing Ryou of the shadow disease again, and so on and so forth.

He lay sprawled out on his bed, not moving even when a couple of kittens tackled each other across his legs. Not only was he still tired and in a slump, but he was also rather bored. Ryou was back at work, Ra knew where Bakura was, Isis was at work as well... so basically, Malik was lonely. He had Aisha and the kittens, but it wasn't like he could actually talk to them. Another human being in the room would've been great at the time.

And then, something hit him.

He remembered getting a message from his other self a few weeks back about wanting him to stop by whenever he had a free moment. And this definitely was a free moment. ... Problem was, Malik had no clue where his other self lived. He did, however, have a cellphone with a certain phone number programmed into it, so he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out said phone, remaining in his current position. A few button pushes later, he was holding the phone to his ear, listening to it ring.

During Mariku's avoidance of Diabound, following the awkward circumstances in which both of them had been forced to endure, he'd been mostly lying around his apartment, brooding, for lack of a better term to describe it. Old letters, chocolate wrappers and such had been strewn about his living room so carelessly that it looked as though some criminal lived there, instead of a sulking Egyptian psychopath.

Mariku was flipping TV channels boredly, feet kicked up on the sofa, when he heard his cell phone ringing. Warily, he clicked the television off, sitting up and running a hand through his unruly blonde tresses. After learning that Diabound had been trying to call him - hence his cautiousness toward the phone - he'd ignored any and all calls made to either his home phone or his cell. However, it was strange: he had a strange urge to actually answer it, this time; Mariku wasn't quite sure of why he inwardly wanted to, but when his mind dictated something to him, he usually did it.

Mariku pushed himself to his feet, walking briskly to the table where his cell was vibrating with its ringtone. He picked it up and flipped the cover up, pressing the 'talk' button and holding it to his ear. "What?" he asked coolly, prepared for almost anyone.

Malik cringed as he heard his own voice on the other end of the line. He wondered if it had been a good idea to call his other self; Mariku's greeting didn't really sound too happy. "Um. Hey, other me," he said, biting down on his lip. Now he wasn't sure if Mariku would even want to talk to him.

If Mariku had been any more surprised at hearing his own voice on the receiving end, he would have dropped the damned phone. "Other me?" His tone morphed from glacial to surprised; he unconsciously held the phone tighter. "What's the matter?" he automatically demanded, trying to mask his worry. It must have been serious, if his other half was calling him.

"Um. Nothing?" Malik blinked. Was he detecting a hint of concern in his other self's voice? ...yeah, right. "Just wanted to see if you were busy at all... 'cause a few weeks ago you asked if I could stop by whenever I had a free moment. And... uh, yeah. I have a very free moment."

Mariku arched an eyebrow, his grip on the cell phone loosening somewhat as he rested a hand on his hip. "No, I'm not busy," he answered slowly; he vaguely remembered asking his other self to come over - but that must have been before the cruise, right? "Is now fine?"

Malik sat up and nodded, but then realized Mariku couldn't see him. "Yeah, now's fine. I would've just gone over, but I... kinda don't know where you live."

"I gathered." Mariku chuckled lightly, moving to flop down on the couch again. He draped an arm over his eyes, figuring out a way to give directions that wouldn't leave his other self in a backstreet somewhere in Domino. "Do you know where the club is around here?"

Plucking a couple of kittens out of his lap with his free hand, Malik stood up. He vaguely remembered where it was; he and Yami had been there several weeks ago, but he had been much too drunk to remember the exact location. "Uh, I think so..."

Mariku massaged his temple lightly, closing his eyes in thought. "But, then, knowing you, you were probably too sussed to even remember where it is," he grumbled, eyes flicking open.

Malik pouted, sliding his socked feet into a pair of sneakers. "Just tell me the street corner it's on and I'll remember."

"... What, you've been hanging out on street corners as a prostitute again? I thought you were past that." Mariku smirked lazily, brushing his bangs from his eyes.

This time, the pout was audible in Malik's voice. "Nooooo," he whined, "I just remember looking up at the street signs on the way back. Granted, it was a little fuzzy, but I'd remember if I heard the names of the streets."

Mariku rolled his eyes, scorn evident in his tone as he responded, "It's called Mun Drive, if I'm right." He blinked; that seemed like an odd name, especially in Japan.

Mun Drive; that clicked in his mind. "Yeah, I know where that is. Can you get me to your place from there?" Malik was now heading down the stairs, idly fishing around in his pocket for his keys.

"I think so." Mariku snorted loudly enough for Malik to hear, picking at the hem of his black midriff. "I'm surprised you made it back alive from the shipwreck tour," he commented.

Digging the keys out of his pocket, Malik raised an eyebrow. "What, were you worried that the boat would hit an iceberg and sink or something?" he asked sarcastically. He took the end of a key in his mouth and quickly scribbled a note to the other house occupants, in case he'd still be out after they got home.

"No, that would have been hoping for too much," Mariku answered, his tone betraying the teasing smirk adorning his features. He knew his other self would easily sense this, though. "I was concerned your hair would get split ends, or such."

"Don't worry, other me, my hair is still in its perfect fluffy condition." Malik rolled his eyes, just knowing that Mariku was smirking. It was just what he did. "You gonna give me directions, or make me have to drive with the cellphone?"

Mariku snickered. "It would be unfortunate if you were to crash whilst talking to me," he said amusedly. "However, I'd prefer you intact, so, yes. Just let me ponder for a moment." He smirked.

While waiting on said directions, Malik leaned against the front door, tossing his keys up in the air and catching them. He repeated this process several times, and was pretty sure that his other self could hear the jingling noise the keys made.

"Stop that, will you?" Mariku scowled, sounding quite irritated with the incessant noise. "I'm attempting to think," he added dryly, "so it'd be nice if you STOPPED."

"Fine, fine." Malik pocketed the keys again, and settled for absently twirling on a strand of his hair instead.

Mariku refrained from giving a snarky comment in response, instead closing his mouth and silently going over the directions in his head. Once he was certain they were right, he instructed, "Take two lefts and a right once you get off that street."

"Yeah, okay," Malik nodded, taking in the instructions. "Anything else?"

"... Don't pick up any hookers on the way."

Malik resisted the urge to smack his forehead. "Oh, damn." Ah, the joys of sarcasm.

"That includes selling yourself off as one," Mariku added sneakily, smirking as he pressed the 'end' button on his cell and folded it up again. "I love me, sometimes." With that, he tossed the phone onto the coffee table and flopped back down on the couch again.

Well, that was crap. Malik had had a nice comeback lined up after that remark, and hadn't even gotten a chance to shoot it off. Oh well. If he remembered it, he could tell his other self when he got there. He hung up the phone, stuffed it back into his pocket, and headed out of the house, locking up as he left.

*MAGICAL TIMELAPSE!*

A short while later, Malik parked his motorcycle in front of a large apartment building. He took off his helmet and shook his hair out - the only thing he hated about owning a motorcycle was the helmet hair that came with it - looking up at it. Now that he thought about it, it would've helped if Mariku had told him which apartment it was... Oh well. He'd rely on his intuition to take him there; after all, they were two sides of the same coin.

Malik found himself somewhere on the 8th floor of the building, wondering which door it was. He wasn't about to go knocking on all of them in order to find his other self... not only would that be annoying to the other apartment residents, but it would also be somewhat strange if someone came to the door looking for himself...

Mariku, having spent a good ten or so minutes lazing about on the couch, found the sudden inclination to go and make sure his other self found his apartment all right. Not that I care, Mariku ever-so-shrewdly reminded himself as he moved to his apartment door, opening it and stepping outside. He looked around the floor, searching for his other self, and when his sharp eyes came to rest on Malik, he smirked wickedly. "Hey, blondie," he teased.

Malik turned his head, hearing his own voice behind him. "Look who's talking," he retorted, turning around completely to face his other self. He smirked, crossing his arms.

Mariku's smirk widened as he sauntered over to his other self, arching an eyebrow with a curious eye. "I see you got yourself here. ... Intact, much to my dismay," he added teasingly.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Malik reached out and poked the tip of Mariku's nose. "I was just about to start knocking on doors looking for you. It would've helped if you'd given me an apartment number, y'know."

Mariku scrunched his nose up, swatting at Malik's hand lightly. "Don't touch what you can't pay for. And I would have, but that would have ruined my sarcastic majesty," he stated.

"And Ra knows that your sarcastic majesty couldn't be ruined, unless you wanted to bring the end of the world about." The smirk was still on Malik's face as he peered over Mariku's shoulder. "So which one's yours, anyway?"

"Quiet, you." Mariku rolled his eyes, pushing Malik toward his apartment, the door of which read '65'. "It sure took you long enough," he commented dryly, closing the door behind them.

After being pushed into the apartment, Malik looked over his shoulder, glaring halfheartedly at the other. "I had to backtrack because I took two rights and a left instead of two lefts and a right. But at least I got here."

"Aw, was that due to your tiny brain capacity?" Mariku smirked back at his other self, amused at the attempted glare. "I can't help it if you didn't succeed my intellect,” he sighed exaggeratedly.

Malik rolled his eyes. He should've seen this coming. "Was there a particular reason you wanted to see me, or did you just want to stand here and poke at my tiny brain capacity?"

"Well, the latter sounds more interesting, really." Mariku smirked lazily, moving to sit on the couch. He patted the space beside him for his other self, raising an eyebrow amusedly. "However, I just wanted to... see you. Is that a crime?"

Malik blinked. His other self just wanted to see him? For no reason? This was new. He raised an eyebrow and moved over to the couch, sitting down beside Mariku. "... Well, no. I just thought that there might've been something you wanted to discuss, that's all. You don't usually just want to... see me." Malik looked down at his feet.

Mariku ran a hand through his flaxen-blonde hair, an eyebrow quirked at his other self's tone. "Is it so hard to believe?" he questioned, his voice a little less rigid than usual.

Malik glanced at Mariku out of the corner of his eye. "Well... sort of, considering most of the time you don't seem to want anything to do with me." He fought back a sigh as he looked down at his feet again. Huh. He needed some new shoes.

Mariku blinked, gazing at Malik with unusual confusion as he reached to touch the other's shoulder lightly. "You're part of me; why wouldn't I?" he wondered, more to himself than Malik.

This time, Malik didn't bother holding back his sigh. His eyes remained fixed on the carpet, and he was speaking in barely over a mumble. "...that's just it. I'm a part of you. Yet you're always wondering how I could possibly be a part of you, because I'm so... different than you are."

Mariku paused momentarily, noticing one thing: this seemed to upset his other self, which perplexed Mariku. Moving a little closer, he questioned carefully, "Do you think it's possible for one to change, even if they are different?"

"... It's possible," Malik muttered, glancing up at the other. "I mean... I'm a lot different than I used to be. Sex doesn't control my life like it used to, and I'm more focused on..." he looked back down, "...love. So... yeah, people can change, depending on the things that they go through."

"So, you don't think it's possible for my opinion to have changed?" Mariku queried, his hand resting on Malik's shoulder. "Because, if not, then I guess we're never going to get anywhere."

"..." Mariku had a point. Malik knew that he himself had gone through a radical personality change, ever since he had met Ryou, but he hadn't really given much thought to the possibility that his other self had changed as well as him. He looked up at Mariku again, biting his lip. He was a little unsure of what to say - after all, pretty much all he'd ever heard from Mariku was that he was a sap and a nuisance. "... Yes, it's possible...."

Mariku smirked lightly, though there was no maliciousness behind it. "As I've said, logic wins out, in most cases. However," he brushed a stray lock of his hair back, "I think I have changed significantly enough to say that I don't find you to be a nuisance, or anything."

Malik blinked. "...you don't?" He had seen how some of his friends were treated by their other selves - how Atemu had rejected Yami's affection; how one Siegfried was ignored, ridiculed, and more or less abused by his other self. All Malik had really wanted was to be considered a friend by his other self, rather than a disgrace.

"No." Mariku shook his head with a smirk that bordered on a smile, lavender eyes mischievous. "I wouldn't disown myself, now would I? You're far too amusing for that."

Malik had to smile a little at that. "...heh. I'm glad you find me amusing, other me." There wasn't much sarcasm in his voice this time, if any at all.

Mariku's usual smirk slipped back into place and he crossed his legs, leaning back on the couch a bit. "So, are you going to tell me about your trip?" he inquired, resting his chin in the palm of a hand.

"Ooh." With this new revelation in mind, Malik felt his original exuberance returning. "It was so cool. You seriously should've come with me, other me. You would've had fun! There was a lot of stuff to do on the boat as it was, but then the islands it went to..." It took Malik a good while to talk about everything he'd done, but he did, barely even stopping to take a breath in-between words. "I still think the best part was the spa though," he said thoughtfully, after he'd finished. "It was just so relaxing, and... oi. I wouldn't mind having a bath like that every day."

Mariku listened intently, his smirk never straying from his features, though he arched an eyebrow every now and then. "Well, it definitely sounds like you had fun," he conceded, poking his other self in the stomach. "I hope you and little Ryou didn't get up to anything... explicit." He feigned a suspicious expression, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Malik eeped as his stomach was poked. Okay, definitely been hanging around Ryou too much... "Nuuuu," he said, face flushing a little. "We did a lot of cuddling, though. It was nice." Grin.

"Aw." Mariku grinned in return, ruffling his other self's hair (which he found rather attractive, himself). "Since when did you not settle for anything more than cuddling?" he asked, tone almost incredulous.

"Since I turned into a sap, I guess," Malik answered, smirking as his hair was mussed. He resisted the urge to bat Mariku's hand away. "He says I make a really good pillow."

"Hm, hm, hm." Mariku's hand now toyed with his own hair, twirling a flaxen-blonde strand around a finger. "And, no, before you ask, I won't reprimand you for being a 'sap'," he smirked.

Malik smiled, tossing his hair a little in order to straighten it back up. He ran his fingers through it a bit, returning it to its fluffy state. "...thanks. I was a little worried about that for a while, to be honest... I was wondering if being in love with Ryou was a bad thing."

At Malik's latter comment, Mariku fell strangely silent, pretending to examine a stain on his midriff for a moment. After a while, though, he eyed Malik, tempted to tell him of the latest 'news' in his clichéd 'love' life.

"But that's enough about me, I've been talking too long." Malik perched his elbow up on the back of the couch and rested the side of his head in his palm. "What kind of trouble did you manage to get yourself into while I was gone?"

"Who, me? Trouble? Do those words even fit in a sentence together?" Mariku questioned, smirking faintly, having found his voice again.

"Bah, you know I don't mean that literally." Malik grinned. "I mean, we haven't really talked like this in a while, and you haven't updated your journal much, either. I just wanted to know what you've been up to lately."

Mariku paused, hesitant to share his... feelings - dreaded things - with his other self, due to how foreign and new they felt to him. "Well," he began, rather slowly, "I guess I have... a string attached, now."

Cue a blink from Malik. What did that phrase even mean, anyway? "... Elaborate?"

"... Do I have to?" That was probably the most childish thing Mariku had ever said in his other half's presence, and he very rarely said anything immature at all.

"... Not if you don't want to." Malik debated on throwing his other self for a guilt trip or not. He decided against it - though he was curious; there was clearly something bothering Mariku, but he didn't want to pry, lest he start being considered a nuisance again.

"..." Mariku paused for a moment, wavering in his decision to reveal things to his other self. He wasn't really worried about what Malik would think of him; he was more concerned about contradicting everything he, himself, had ever said to Malik. "It's not that I don't want to," he said slowly.

This time it was Malik who put a hand on his other self's shoulder; he leaned forward slightly as he did so. "... Then what's with the hesitation?" Now Malik was a little worried. Mariku usually never had a problem with saying what was on his mind...

Mariku hesitated again, having to chew the inside of his cheek just so he could keep his mouth closed - for the moment, anyway. Glancing away, uncharacteristically shy about sharing his usually confined feelings, he muttered, "Diabound and I are... exclusive." He cringed; it sounded as though he were talking about dying, judging from his tone.

Oh. So that was it. Malik then remembered something that Diabound had told him - or rather, yelled at him - in regards to that, but decided against directly mentioning it. "... I take it that you don't want to be exclusive."

Mariku stared at Malik, shaking his head. "No, it's not that," he responded quickly, before rubbing his shoulder, feeling awkward for saying it. "It just makes me seem like a hypocrite, you know?"

"... How so?" Now Malik was confused. He fished around in his mind for anything that would label his other self as a hypocrite - the fact that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed made this a somewhat difficult task. Being a 'dumb blonde' wasn't fun.

"Because you and Ryou are exclusive - I think - and I looked down on you for it, so. That makes me look as though I'm a hypocrite, doesn't it?" Mariku's tone was edgy, worried and almost shaky all at once: he hadn't felt this anxious in a long time, much less over his other self.

Blink. Blink blink. "... I wouldn't say Ryou and I are exclusive; remember, he's in love with Bakura too. And I... well, I can't say that I've been good about that either - there were those couple of times that you and I had sex, too. Though I don't know if those count for anything, since it was just a release of tension..." Malik scratched his chin. He was getting off-topic. "But that's not the point. The point is, saying that you and Diabound are exclusive isn't saying that you're a hypocrite. You'd be being a hypocrite if you were turning into a complete and utter sap, since you ragged on me about that."

Mariku listened to Malik silently, until the other finished, and he coughed lightly, tugging at one of his sidebangs uneasily. "Well, I wouldn't say I've quite turned into a sap," he frowned a little, "because I'm still a jerk, apparently." He snorted lightly at his own remark toward himself; since when had he been known to do that?

Malik removed his hand from Mariku's shoulder, and crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch. "Who says you're still a jerk?"

"I do," was the simple answer.

"... 'Jerk' is a relative term, you know. You might be one compared to other people, but compared to others, you're practically a saint."

Mariku smirked faintly, gazing at his other self with a half-amused glint in his eyes. "Oh? And who would these 'others' be? Because, you know, I'd be fascinated to find out if it's even possible."

"Kaiba, maybe? Or that Siegfried guy," Malik answered, pulling names off the top of his head.

"... Well, that makes me feel so much better."

"... Well, for what it's worth... I don't think you're a jerk."

"... Thanks, other me." Mariku offered Malik a smirk which was more of a smile than anything - probably the sincerest thing you would get out of the Egyptian. Ever.

"In all seriousness, though. You should see that Siegfried guy sometime. He's an ass. His other self's a nice guy, if not a little withdrawn, but he's treated like dirt. Not to mention that Yami's all but spilled his heart out to him, and Siegfried just ignores it and goes off to fuck Kaiba or something." Malik frowned. It wasn't exactly a secret that he disliked Siegfried. "And don't even get me started on Kaiba... but anyway. If anyone's a jerk, it's definitely not you." His eyes were now focused on an interesting-looking spot on the couch.

Mariku rested his chin in his hands, quirking an eyebrow in scepticism. "I gathered, considering his level of idiocy in his livejournal," he answered, before pausing; what was the matter with Kaiba? "Why the touchiness on Kaiba-subject?" he questioned.

"He's an arrogant prick who enjoys picking on Ryou because he has nothing better to do?" Malik's frown turned into a scowl as he remembered some of the things that Seto had said to Ryou.

"He's Kaiba; what do you expect?" Mariku responded dryly, with a roll of his eyes. "He probably has a plausible reason, you know; you could just be jumping to conclusions."

Malik sighed. "That may be true. But that doesn't mean I have to stand by and let him antagonize Ryou."

"So do something about it, then," Mariku suggested 'helpfully', poking Malik with an arch of his eyebrow. "No version of me is a pushover." He prodded harder, "Are they?"

"Nooo," Malik groaned, batting Mariku's hand away. "And you know, I tried to say something to Kaiba. But then he just got his little pink-haired fuck buddy on his side, and there's no way I can outsmart both of them."

Mariku smirked, drawing his hand away, before he paused a moment, looking thoughtful. "Not you, alone, but, perhaps, if you had..." His eyes flitted over to Malik briefly, "...accomplices."

Malik raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk forming on his face. "You mean aside from Bakura?"

Mariku snorted lightly, unimpressed at the very idea of the incompetent thief. "That idiot has the attention span of a sock," he remarked, looking thoroughly annoyed, "so, yes. Aside from him."

"Let me guess. You're referring to yourself."

"Well, gee. You do listen."

"Yeahsee, I'm not a dumb blonde all the time." Malik stuck his tongue out at his other self. "Seriously, though... you'd be willing to... help out?"

"No, just the majority of the time." Mariku snorted lightly, grinning at Malik with a cheeky glimmer in his eyes. "I would be, yes. I don't like either of them and, frankly, Siegfried is associated with Yami, who..." His eye twitched. "...slept with my boyfriend."

"... Hey, I'm just as pissed about that as you are." According to Malik, it wasn't that Yami had sex with someone else so much as it was who that pissed him off so much. He wasn't exactly fond of Diabound much either, mainly because the thief wanted to spill his blood, but that pretty much went without saying.

The way Mariku was hearing it, it didn't seem as though it were a problem for his other self, because he and Yami weren't involved like that. "What reason do you have to be angry?" he wanted to know, eyeing Malik carefully.

Malik sighed and shook his head. "I guess I just feel... betrayed. I mean, before this whole 'Sieg-love' business came about, Yami and I would have sex without question. Then when he decided he wanted to be celibate for his Sieg-love, I could handle that too. But then he goes off and screws Diabound in order to relieve his tension, I just..." He closed his eyes, his head drooping a little. "I don't know."

Mariku hesitated; he wasn't used to being around upset people, and wasn't quite sure of how he could remedy his other self's bitterness toward Siegfried. "Hey," he began somewhat awkwardly, edging closer and placing an arm around Malik's shoulders. "I suppose Yami is just confused by all this - probably as confused as you are." Internally, he wanted to bite his tongue and be quiet - he was speaking about the pharaoh.

Malik blinked at the sudden gesture, but made no move to move away. Instead, he sighed again and looked up at the ceiling. "I just don't know what's going on in his head anymore. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss him."

Mariku, inwardly, was making all kinds of faces due to the fact he was having to discuss his worst enemy's feelings. "You have to understand, I don't know how you could miss him. It's hard for me to... empathize."

"... Well, I guess that's just one of the differences between us that won't change."

"I think my heart just broke. ... No, really."

Malik gave his other self a sidelong glare, and halfheartedly elbowed him in the ribs, not enough to really hurt. "... Look, I know you don't like Yami, and you're probably using all of your willpower to not verbally bash him in front of me, so... why don't we just change the subject?" Truth be told, Malik didn't really want to talk about it either. It seemed that the more he thought about it, the more upset he became at the whole mess.

Mariku smirked at the jab, shrugging and patting Malik's shoulder lightly. "It's just the way I grew up - you can't expect me to like him, all of a sudden, even if he isn't the same pharaoh." Pausing a moment, Mariku eyed his other self warily. "I'm concerned you'll become a walking bundle of tension if you keep bottling things up."

"I'm not asking you to like him or anything," Malik said, turning his head to look at Mariku. "...'s not like I can really talk to anyone about this, really. For one, I can't explain it without sounding... weird, and I doubt they'd understand even if I could explain it better. I don't have a choice except to... 'bottle it up'."

"Hey, I went through the same thing, you know," Mariku said solemnly, returning the gaze. "If anyone won't understand, your own self might, huh? Don't count me out so hastily, other me; I understand a fair bit more than you think."

"..." Malik pulled his feet up onto the couch, wrapping his arms around his knees. "... You're right." Indeed, Mariku had gone through the same thing. Now Malik felt bad about forgetting that.

"Exactly my point." Mariku rolled his eyes good-naturedly at his other self's forgetfulness, ruffling his hair once more. "I know how you feel, and it probably won't go away for some time." He raised an eyebrow. "Hell, I'm still dealing with my jealousy."

Malik looked over at his other self again, before leaning his head over to rest on Mariku's shoulder. He hugged his knees closer to himself; he hated it when things like this were on his mind. "... This sucks."

Mariku blinked, perplexed by the action, though he ran his fingers through Malik's hair gently, trying to soothe him. "Oh, lots of things do," he said dryly. "Is there anything you could do to take your mind off of things?"

Malik sighed yet again, his eyes sliding shut; he loved it when people played with his hair. He doubted anything short of sex would possibly take his mind off of this, and he was fairly sure that his other self didn't want to do that - it would only cause more trouble for the both of them. "...not that I can think of off the top of my head," he muttered. "Unless you can think of something."

Mariku stroked Malik's hair silently for a moment, fingers sliding through the golden locks akin to his own. "I believe we think of the same things," he grumbled, "and that may be a problem in the future."

Malik nodded, and was thankful that the other couldn't see the look on his face. Physical comfort was something that he greatly missed; all of those nights cuddling with Ryou were really nice, but they had been for his comfort rather than Malik's. At the moment, he would've given anything to have the same kind of comfort that he'd offered to Ryou.

Mariku was sensing that there was more to this than met the eye and pulled Malik a little closer, wanting to make him feel at ease. Malik was, after all, a part of him, and he wondered if he looked like that when he was cranky. "Don't be a kid," he muttered, kissing the other's forehead lightly in a gesture of rare affection.

"..." Malik blinked. Was that...? It almost seemed like his other self had read his mind, which wouldn't have been surprising - they were the same person, after all. He thought he could feel his face heating up a bit, and he reached forward and clutched at Mariku's shirt, burying his face in the crook of the other's neck. "...'m not a kid," he muttered. That was a lie; Malik knew he was being rather childish at the time, but really - could you blame him?

Mariku blinked in surprise; Malik did seem to be quite upset - well, who wouldn't be? Mariku drew Malik into an almost protective embrace, holding him close and resting his head atop the other's. All he could offer was this sort of comfort, really, because he lacked the 'people skills' to do any more. Though, he decided to take a shot at it: "I know. I don't blame you for... whatever the hell it is both of us are feeling toward it."

As his other self's arms went around him, Malik could feel his throat constrict a little. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been held by anyone; it had always been him doing the holding, offering solace. And what's more, it was his other self holding him - if his memory served him correctly, Mariku had never shown him this kind of compassion. Malik tightened his grip on the other's shirt, his eyes squeezing shut - and he mentally slapped himself. Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry. Not gonna cry...

Mariku knew how Malik felt, inwardly; neither of them had been offered much of a childhood, nor had they ever had anyone but their sister(s?) and Rishid to rely on. Sighing lightly, Mariku felt the other stiffening a bit and stroked his back reassuringly. "It's okay, if you want to do the.. tear thing," he said somewhat awkwardly.

In any other circumstances, Malik would've laughed at his other self's terminology. But given the current situation, laughing was the last thing he wanted to do. With another sigh, his body relaxed, and he barely felt the warm tears sliding down his face and soaking into the fabric of Mariku's shirt. He felt so foolish for doing this, but considering all of the emotional stress he'd been through in the last several weeks, a good cry would do him well. After all, bottling up one's emotions never helped. "...sorry..."

Mariku, too, relaxed when he felt his shirt moistening with Malik's tears, and he traced circles on Malik's back slowly, feeling the other's chest convulsing beneath his own fingertips. "Everyone does it, sometime," he reassured quietly, holding Malik a tiny bit tighter. He felt bad for telling Malik to do it, but he knew that if he bottled everything up much longer, it would become a problem.

To be honest, it felt good to cry. It was like every tear that fell was another one of his problems slipping away. Though that didn't change the fact that Malik was embarrassed about his little outburst; he was sure that now his other self would see him as even more of a weakling. Malik sniffled, letting go of Mariku's shirt, and he brought his arms up to lightly wrap about the other's neck. "...sorry I got all weepy and emotional on you," he whispered, nuzzling further into the embrace.

Mariku paused, and kissed the top of Malik’s head lightly, an odd impulse to defend his other self from whatever may befall him, be it petty emotions or even Diabound. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to berate you for it, or anything – I wouldn’t,” he promised, holding Malik tightly. “Just don’t think you have to bottle it all up, because it does absolutely nothing.”

Malik nodded again, feeling considerably better - though he still felt pretty crappy about the whole thing. He sniffled again, reaching up to rub at one of his eyes. "...thanks, other me," he murmured, voice muffled a little.

Mariku felt his chest tighten a bit at the sniffle, stroking Malik's hair once more. "Anytime," he smirked faintly, though his voice was earnest. "Feel better?"

Malik pulled back from the embrace a bit, so that he could face the other. He knew he probably looked horrible - his eyes hurt, as they were red from crying. "A little," he replied, the corner of his mouth turning up in a tiny smile.

In return, Mariku's lips twitched upward a bit, too; barely a trace of a smirk in his eyes. "Do you think going out would make you feel any better?" he questioned, toying with one of Malik's bangs.

Chewing on his lip in contemplation, Malik pondered the question. He was still rather exhausted from the trip - not to mention the outflow of emotions - but hanging out with his other self sounded like fun. "... Maybe," he answered, nodding. "What'd you have in mind?"

"I don't know; what do you feel up to doing?" Mariku quirked an eyebrow, giving Malik a slight push so he'd stand up. "Something not too rigorous, obviously," he smirked, "because that would make you even more tired than you look."

Malik stood up, stretching his body out - he'd been tucked in the same position for quite a while now; his back was stiff. "... Maybe just a drive, or something." He winced slightly as his back popped rather audibly.

"Don't you sound all excited," Mariku drawled, following suit and getting to his feet. He rolled his shoulders, smirking when he heard joints popping, and then ran a hand through his hair.

Malik stifled a yawn; his next words came out in sort of a weird mess of half-moans. "... I'm pretty tired, other me, like you just said. What do you expect?" Truth be told, Malik didn't really want to do anything except go to sleep. He was drained both physically and emotionally.

Mariku arched an eyebrow, folding his arms loosely. "I'm not going to lie: you look like shit," he stated bluntly. "So, I think it's best if you... take a break. A long one," he added, "because you look like walking death right about now."

"... That's a pleasant mental image," Malik muttered, quirking his own eyebrow. "... D'you mind if I just crash here for a while? I dunno how well I'd be able to drive right now..."

"Sure; go ahead." Mariku waved a hand dismissively, before he began to make his way into the kitchen. "I'll get you some aspirin, or something," he called. "Oh, and don't be alarmed if you hear any sort of screaming or loud banging. It's just Diabound and I."

"... You sure that Diabound won't try to kill me if he sees that I'm here?"

"Not unless you eat his food or interrupt his sex. Otherwise, you're fine. I think. Oh, and no sudden movements."

"That's really comforting."

Mariku rolled his eyes, appearing in the room again, a glass of water in hand, a small, white pill in his other. "He's really not that scary," he said lazily. "... If you know how to treat him."

Malik's arms were crossed, and he had an indeterminable expression on his face. "You kinda don't think about how to treat someone when they want your head served to them on a silver platter," he said, "or at least I don't..."

"Weren't you two acting civil toward one another at the brat's party?" Mariku asked, now in front of Malik. He handed the other the glass of water, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but then he got all pissed off at me in that big-ass comment thread in Mokuba's journal," Malik answered, taking the glass in his hand.

"Hm. That was stupid of you," Mariku smirked, placing the aspirin in Malik's hand as well. "I'll be surprised if you even manage to live another two weeks."

Malik popped the aspirin in his mouth and followed it with a long sip of water, sighing once he got it down. It was an unnerving thought, knowing that someone was out for your blood. Mariku's words weren't really helping him right now, either. "... That's not funny."

Mariku rolled his eyes. "It's amusing to me, because I know I can control him easily, and he wouldn't dare - unless he never wanted to get laid again, of course."

"... Point. Still, he blames me for everything that's fucked up between you two. That's not a good feeling." Well, damn. Now Malik was depressed again. He couldn't take two emotional outbursts in one night.

"Everything was fucked up between us anyway; you couldn't have made it worse." Mariku frowned, "And, besides, who's he to say whose fault it is?"

Malik yawned again; thinking was starting to hurt. "... I don't even know anymore." He looked down at the floor, wondering if it were possible to just sink into the carpet.

Mariku sighed heavily, slightly bothered by the lack of... perkiness in the other. Giving Malik a light push toward his bedroom, Mariku said, "I'll sleep on the couch. You can sleep in my room."

Malik looked back at Mariku, blinking a little. "... You sure? I don't wanna put you out of your own bed..."

Mariku smirked faintly, pushing Malik in the direction of his bedroom again. "I'm sure Diabound and I can manage with the couch," he teased.

"... Okay, if you're sure." Malik walked towards Mariku's bedroom, pushing the door open. He stopped and looked back at his other self, a small smile on his face. "...thank you."

Mariku managed a small smirk in return, winking at his other self. "Don't dream about me too much, huh." His smirk morphed into a grin and he gave an offhand wave.

"You wish," Malik retorted, sticking his tongue out. "... 'Night, other me." With that, he disappeared into the room, just barely leaving the door open behind him.

Mariku rolled his eyes at Malik's sheer maturity, moving to flop down onto the couch once again. He draped an arm over his eyes, sighing and wondering if he'd be able to get any sleep by the next time Diabound woke up. Probably not.