the_campus | Effect Room: Amnesia

...

You could just say it sucks, you know.

[Not even bothering to take his shoes off, he shrugs off his jacket, tossing it carelessly aside.]

It's not the worst place I've lived in, but it'll do.

But it doesn't! It's just...different than I expected. But it's not bad.

[Malik takes his own shoes off, somehow old habits rising back to the surface now that he had little else. He makes to move towards the coffee table to pick up one of the books, but stops when he catches the scarring on Bakura's arm out of the corner of his eye.]

Hey--are you ok?

Huh?

[Glancing over, he follows Malik's gaze down to his arms. Tch... he'd never truly forget about those scars, but he was so used to having his arms covered that it had been a while since his attention was drawn to them. And it wasn't as if Malik usually made a point of mentioning them; rather the opposite, really.]

Ah... It's fine. They're healed about as far as they ever will.

[He presses his hand to his shoulder, unconsciously showing off the scars on the back of his hand.]

You took care of me after I got burnt. I think you felt guilty, even though it wasn't really your fault.

Both of us have our share of marks from our time here. When you get a moment, brace yourself and look at your stomach.

Guilty...? [He mumbles, eying the scar with a sort of morbid curiosity.]

Why would I feel guilty? What happened?

[And his stomach? Were they related? Malik glances down at his abdomen, but it was covered by a tanktop below his usual vest. It seems his anxious curiosity really would have to wait a moment.]

Was there a fire? [That would explain it, some sort of fire in the room. Then was he hiding burn marks of his own? Malik's stomach twisted at the thought; those marks were hardly pleasant to look at.]

In a manner of speaking. That other you... decided to burn me alive. I avoided death by sheer luck.

[And the odd exertions of his monsters. That loyalty of theirs surprises him.

If I hadn't been shielded enough to take the brunt of the flames, if I had been weakened, if I hadn't faced down God before and survived... I would have died just as easily as Rosenkreuz...

The thought irritates him.]

... [Malik is rendered speechless. He doesn't exactly feel guilt right now, or even bad...but he knows that inside him, somewhere, he should. When those memories come back, how painful is it going to be?

He can't resist any longer. Even if it's inappropriate he pulls at his tanktop to untuck it and take a look at what lies beneath. It's not burns like he expected, but two large and darkened scars. One was slashed across his side and permanently raised, and the other, much smaller but still ghastly lied just above his navel at an angle.

He lets out a soft noise, light a frightened whimper.]

[Bakura's gaze softens at that sound. How awkward must Malik be feeling right now? With no memory of the wounds marking his body, no memory of anything...]

Sit down. I'll make you some tea.

[Going over to put the kettle on, he speaks calmly, if expressionlessly. It's good, in a way. Though Malik's shock is bad, he's reacting like he should to marks like those. It's better than the carefree manner he spoke about them in the future.]

...Rosenkreuz gave you one of them. He's the same man who cut my face. We had to camp out in the forest for a while for fear of him. But we have a peace treaty with him and his group now, so we don't need to worry about that.

Are you hungry? We have some leftover koshary.

[A little shaky on his feet, Malik makes his way to the couch and sits, eyes still trauma stuck as he kept glancing down to his covered torso.

"Rosenkreuz" did this to him?]

Yeah...I'll eat. But...why?

Why did Rosenkreuz do this to us? Why did we need a peace treaty? Who's his group?!

[As he went on his questions grew more desperate and agitated, his voice losing its timidness as he demanded answers.]

[Fetching the carefully wrapped koshary from the fridge, he spoons it out into a bowl and brings it over for him, setting it on the table in front of him.

He should hold some of this back, he's sure... so he judges his words carefully. Without lying, he begins a brief summary of the events.]

The Rose Duelists are the group I speak of. They're led by a man named Henry, who bears a strong resemblance to our mutual enemy. You were overcome with hatred because of that resemblance and tried to kill him; Rosenkreuz retaliated by trying to kill you. I was able to stop him by holding something important to him hostage, but not before you were injured.

I nursed you back to health, and we managed to make something resembling peace between our groups, until your other self awoke. In the aftermath of that debacle, I arranged a proper peace treaty between our groups, and you agreed to abide by it once you'd recovered from the stab wound that led to it.

The other scar is from that wound.

This is...a lot to take in. [Malik tries his best, but without the memories to go with it, it's merely a vague and disjointed run down of events. All he knows is that he tried to kill someone. Was that really the sort of person he was? And yet Bakura said he wasn't a bad one.

The thought never entered his mind that maybe that "mutual enemy" had done something to deserve such hatred. At least, in his eyes.]

I... [He scrunches his eyes shut, thinking.] Remember being in the jungle, a little. And being in a lot of pain. Is that from that time? And when you said The Rose Duelists, I imagined the color pink.

Is that the color of their emblem? [Bakura did say they were a group.]

Your memories are probably from that time.

As to the pink... One of their number has pink hair. A girl named Harriet Vaughn. You two have been getting closer, from what I can tell, since she started training you.

[Hearing the kettle click, he disappears back to see to it. Tch... Malik would probably remember everything else before he remembered him. It was a painful thought. Did he really mean that little to him? Returning with a cup of hot tea, he sets it on the table beside the koshary.]

A girl...

[He hums, picking idly at his food as he thinks and sorts through the shattered fragments of his memories. It would be easy to dwell on those terrifying facts he'd just been told, but Malik would rather dig into what had been revealed because of them.

He would have plenty of time to worry later.]

I remember something else too... It's more a feeling than an image.

...hoh? What is it?

[Bakura stares at him curiously. Folding his arms over his chest, he leans back against the wall, outwardly at ease. Inwardly, he was a tempest of questions and concerns.

Malik was his anchor, that much was true. A link to a world he felt only tangentially attached to, and cared little for. And only now was he realizing just how unstable he felt without the boy being his usual self.]

...Even though I can't remember you, I feel comfortable around you. More than I should. I feel...

[He hesitates a moment. Bakura had called them "partners", right? Maybe that's why. It was strange to imagine himself in that position, though, especially with someone who fell so stray of what he felt were his innate tastes.] ...really comfortable around you.

[And when he looked at Bakura's face, he felt a sense of ease. He knew this man, somehow.]

[Bakura is silent for a moment. It's not what he expected, but he's grateful for it. He can't help but smile in response. Malik felt comfortable with him, even now... that thought made his heart ease somewhat.]

It's good... hearing that. I was worried.

[Remembering something, he disappears into the bedroom for a moment, seeking out - where did Malik leave those damn things? - the figures he'd made and returning with them.]

Here.

[He sets them on the table.]

[Malik smiles faintly in return before Bakura turns towards the bedroom. When he comes back with the miniatures in tow the Egyptian leans in to inspect them. There's a slight, confused recognition written on his face as he looks, but it's not from what Bakura might think.]

You made these. [It's not a question, but a statement of which he's not entirely sure how he knows it.]

That's right! [That realization makes him smile wider. They're not the best things he's ever done - how the hell Ryou avoided cutting his fingers to pieces, he'll never know - but he's still pleased with them. And if they mean enough to Malik to be recognized, that's even more happening to make him happy.]

You were kind of depressed, so I made you these to cheer you up.

[Bakura made these to cheer him up? What a weird thought, that this man cared for him that much.

Malik looks the miniatures over awhile longer, feeling like he should recognize them but unable to draw up the memory. Finally he looks back up at Bakura, eyes searching for answers.]

Who are they supposed to be? Or are they just a gift?

This one is Ishizu. Your elder sister. [He taps it on the top of its head, before glancing at the other one. Those marks on his face were tiresome to replicate...]

This- [Tap.] -is your brother, Rishid.

Ah...! [Malik picks them up again, holding them close so he can inspect what little features there are to then.]

How could I forget? [His voice wavers, as the slight familiarity came back to them. He couldn't see their faces clearly, but an image was coming back to him now.]

Edited 2013-12-15 22:11 (UTC)

[He could answer that, but there's no sense in bringing up the whole magic thing just yet. Instead, he sits on the sofa beside him, crossing one leg over the other almost boredly. Resting his head on his hand, he watches Malik study the figures and chimes in a little.]

That Rishid... he's really tall and intimidating. And he doesn't talk a whole lot, from what I saw.

[Malik nods, muttering more to himself than Bakura.] He's the quiet type... He listens to me.

[He glances towards Ishizu's doll.] Unlike my sister.

[Piece by piece. Repairing little by little, the man before him puts together his memories. One key after another clicks into place. It's slow work, so far. But until that puzzle of memories is complete, he's sure Malik won't stop seeking.]

I never met your sister. Like I said, I didn't even know she was there until you told me, a couple of months ago. But you were protective of her, even if she's disobedient. In the end, I guess everything you do is really for them. You don't really think of yourself much at all, any more.

... [He closes his eyes, shaking his head a little.]

No, I'm sure I do. I have to... I don't feel like the selfless type.

You're not. I never claimed you were selfless. You're probably the most selfish person I know.

But lately, it's been worrying. You keep acting like nothing matters except getting back to them, not even your own body. I advise not looking at your arm.

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