Chapter Text
Domino High.
This was not a place Marik had thought he’d be returning to after his rather abrupt departure almost a whole year ago, but here he was, looking up at the building before him. He stood still for a long moment, students walking past him and shooting questioning glances his way. In the sea of pale teens the tall and dark boy stood out like a sore thumb.
It was hard to believe that he’d been gone for only a year. It had felt like so much more. He had hardly even begun his life as a high schooler before being whisked away from the house he was supposed to call home and sent off to live with his cousins far away in Egypt. It felt like he hadn’t seen this place in ages. He had been a different person when he left, both physically and mentally. At least, that was what he would have liked to believe.
He had given much thought to coming back to… this. His life as it had been before his departure hadn’t been that great. Hell, it had been pretty shitty, to be honest. A smart man would have moved on. Maybe tried to get into another school, where no one would recognize him. Start anew. But here he was. And as much as Marik hated admitting it, he was nervous. His whole body was jittery and the palms tucked safely in the pockets of his hoodie were sweaty.
But it was okay. If there was one thing Marik had learned during his time away from home, it was that repressing his emotions would do him no good. If he kept on bottling everything up, like he had done before, it would all blow up. Things would get out of hand and bite him in the ass later. Again.
Marik sighed. Damn it. His cousins Malik and Ishizu had known how to deliver those one-two-punches of wisdom that had sent him staggering. Those two had really known how to kick his emotions in the gut and now it was time to face the music. He knew from experience that what they had said about repressing and all that shit was true. He breathed in a wavering breath and held it.
He’d been gone for a year. If he was lucky, most of the students wouldn’t even recognize his face. He let out the breath in a loud gasp only when it became absolutely unbearable to hold it longer.
Hiding his nervousness behind a scowl and his hands deep in his pockets where there would be no danger of him accidentally decking a fellow student, Marik marched across the schoolyard and into Domino High. His mind buzzed with the strange familiarity of the place and all sorts of memories flooded back to him. He’d kicked a kid’s ass there, shoved another one into his locker there. Mostly bad stuff, childish behavior, those sorts of things.
He tried not to smile bitterly as the dark thoughts swirled in his head. He didn’t regret any of it, Marik had told himself a year prior. There was no point, right? For a short moment he’d felt like the king of the school. Those actions had shaped him to the person he was today, so there was no reason he should feel bad about any of it, right?
Hadn’t stopped him from lying awake at night, though. Ishizu had said that the first step into moving forward was to stop lying to yourself and accepting your past actions, but that had been one of the hardest things Marik had ever been forced to do. There was darkness inside him. Sometimes he got mad. He had tried to cope and gone at it the wrong way. And there had been repercussions.
Marik ground his teeth together. Ishizu was right. Of course she was. And that meant he would have to do his best to mend at least some of the mistakes he had made. He’d made a promise to them. He was going to start over, do better this time. He was going to fix things.
Finding the school counselor proved an easy enough task and soon the tense teen was taken to what was to be his homeroom. He guessed the staff had already been informed about the situation, since most of the teachers would have had less than satisfactory memories about the old school bully with a personality straight out of hell. His homeroom teacher was stuttering in her introduction, nervous beyond belief. She must have been new. Marik couldn’t remember her face or name from before, but it was clear to him that she had already been warned about his previous actions. So they had decided to throw the newbie to the wolves, Marik thought as he was welcomed into the homeroom. He guessed this was as good time to feel pity as any.
Marik checked his timetable as they were released. The student body mulled about, casting him no second glances. He must have been at least a head taller than most of them having hit his final growth spurts during his time in Egypt and with his messy head of hair Marik drew a threatening picture. He certainly would have drawn more attention to himself had this particular school not hosted people with even wackier hairdos than his. The other students’ eyes just skimmed past him like he wasn’t there at all. Just another new student at the start of the school year. Most of these people didn’t even know who he was – or who he had been. But it wouldn’t take long for the rumors to resurface.
He peered at the tiny print on his timetable like trying to decipher a code. Math. History. Boring. Then lunch and biology followed by PE. He scrunched his brows, unsure what to feel. This all just seemed so… normal. It’d been a year since he’d been to this place and now everything was just so damn normal.
Like nothing had changed in his absence.
But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Everything had changed. Or at least he had. And as far as Marik was concerned, that changed pretty much everything.
The teachers had him introduce himself in both math and history. The history teacher was new and either uninformed or didn’t care, but the math teacher remembered him and kept things short. There was no love between them there, Marik hadn’t showed up to many of her classes before. The cold tone the teacher used when telling him where to sit told Marik that this was not going to be a cakewalk. The threat in her voice was clear, “Behave, or else,” the teacher said in everything but words.
And Marik accepted that. After the hellion he had been, he shouldn’t have expected anything less.
It didn’t mean he had to like it, though.
By the lunch the rumor mills had already started to spin and churn out stories about the tan, tall teen that was skulking at the sidelines of the crowds. Marik spotted worrying glances thrown his way. The students wouldn’t speak to him and those brave enough to look his way did so only when they thought he couldn’t see. They covered their mouths to hide their whispers. Like that was going to help anything.
Marik didn’t want to hear what they were saying behind his back. Why would he? Hearing his misdeeds spoken back and forth, warped and exaggerated into oblivion was not going to do him any good, so he might as well pretend like everything was just fine. It wasn’t like things would get better if he told them to cut it out.
But by the time he brought his tray of food to an almost empty table and managed to scare off the two girls already sitting there, he was starting to develop a hefty headache behind his left eye. He had a bad feeling it would start twitching soon, and wasn’t that going to be a sight? He wanted nothing more than to just get out of there, out of the damn school and… To be honest, most of these people around him were probably expecting that out of him already.
But he wouldn’t do it. The advice received just before leaving Egypt was still fresh in his mind. Don't give up. Don't be what they expect you to be. It was going to be tough for a while, but once he’d get past the hurdles, it’d be better.
So he swallowed down his anger with his medication and made it to biology. At least there the teacher didn’t force him to stand awkwardly in front of the class for the people to ogle. And for a moment it seemed like it was going to turn out fine.
That would have been nice. He got to sit by himself in the class, no one was bothering him and he could have had a chance to do something about his embarrassingly bad grades. But it was after biology when Marik remembered where things had gone wrong in the first place. After biology things took a turn for the worse.
It was because Marik saw him.
It was the touch of white in the sea of students that caught his eye. He shouldn’t have looked. He would have recognized that head of hair anywhere and he should have known better. But it had been over a year since he’d last seen the guy and Marik couldn’t stop himself.
Bakura Ryou.
Marik's heart started to beat faster. His palms were getting sweaty again and he couldn't move from his spot. The other students got out of his way, scattering away in fear as he followed the guy with his eyes.
Bakura Ryou had not changed much. His hair was a little longer and he wore it on a ponytail now and he had grown thinner and taller while Marik was away, but there was no way Marik wouldn’t have recognized him. All that was missing was that annoying gaggling gang of friends that he’d used to hang around with.
Where was the “Friendship Gang” now? Back then they had been insufferably inseparable.
The pale boy scuffled around the student body, making his way closer to Marik and suddenly the former bully found his ability to move again. But where he should have turned around and walked away, he found himself drawing nearer. He couldn't stop himself, or that was what he was going to tell himself afterwards. He just wanted to get a little closer, just a little bit. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything. There was no way that was a bad idea, right?
Wrong. It was a very bad idea indeed.
As Bakura Ryou walked closer, his eyes on the ground instead of the people around him, a collision was inevitable. And Marik did nothing to prevent it.
The boy bumped against him lightly, dropping the books he had been carrying and letting out a small: “Oof.” For a short moment there had been a connection, just shoulder against Marik’s arm, nothing more. But that was enough to make Marik’s skin tingle with electricity.
“Excuse me,” Bakura Ryou spoke softly and kneeled to gather his books. He'd always had such a small voice. A calming voice. Marik just stood there, rooted to his spot, and watched him collect his belongings.
He shouldn’t have been there. Anywhere else would have been better.
Slowly Ryou got back on his feet and lifted his eyes to see the cause of his fall still standing there. He was clearly confused, but only for a short second. Their eyes met and Marik became painfully aware that he had forgotten how beautiful Ryou’s eyes could be when they were not rimmed with tears.
Marik couldn't breathe. Something had lodged itself to his throat and was making airflow impossible as he waited for a reaction. For one hopeful second he prayed that he wouldn't remember him.
Yeah. Sure. Like that would ever happen. You always wanted what you couldn’t have, didn’t you?
The confusion was wiped away when recognition replaced it in Bakura Ryou’s eyes. What little color had still lingered on his cheeks drained away leaving behind a boy that looked like he had seen a ghost. He looked sickly grey as he took a hasty step back.
This was a scene Marik remembered well, it had been one of his favorite sources of enjoyment that he’d liked to reenact day after day twelve months ago. The pretty boy had a look of pure panic on his face, a look he preserved only for Marik. Before, the idea had brought immense pleasure to him. Now it only made him feel sick to his stomach.
The boy took another step back, this one far more tentative than the one before, like he was afraid Marik would lash out at the smallest of movements. When Marik failed to give out a visible reaction to the pale guy’s clear fright, Bakura Ryou turned around and dashed out of sight faster than a speeding bullet.
Marik stood there, feet filled with lead and unable to move. He felt hollow but somehow heavy at the same time and he didn’t know what to do about it. He had known this was exactly how it was going to be, he wasn’t an idiot. That hadn’t stopped him from fantasizing, though.
But at least Marik knew what he needed to do. Long talks with Ishizu had made it clear, the idea felt solid and somehow right. It wasn’t going to be easy. But then again, nothing in his life ever was.
Apologizing is always the hardest part, Ishizu had said one time. She’d said that in her opinion, that was what separated men from children. And Marik had been forced to agree. Even if it had sounded like something he’d find from a shitty fortune cookie, he knew it to be true for him. It was hard to get the words out. Always had been, and now more than ever. Before, Marik had had a protective layer of violence around him. He would have lashed out at anyone, his unpredictability driving others away. Now he had nothing. He was as bare as a newborn child and the world around him was cold and uncaring.
He gripped his fists so tight it hurt. He knew what he needed to do.
The rest of the day was easy compared to the start. PE was a relief. There he could easily clear out some of that built up anger and frustration and no one had anything to say about it. Team sports had a bad habit of making others forget about old grudges – even if for just a short moment.
He saw some of Ryou’s friends. Katsuya Jounochi and Hiroto Honda. They were wary of his presence and Marik didn’t try to get closer.
In the end, he was so exhausted after school that he had all but forgotten his problems. For all of two hours he got a hint of what normal was like. And he liked the taste.