Hey guys! Back again for more of the feelsy mess here. This is the first chapter that wasn't in the original plan so I hope you like it. There are eight paragraphs more than I had initially planned now. Hope y'all enjoy!

CW: Homophobia, slurs (f*g), hints at racism.

Malik adjusted his sleeves, buttoning and unbuttoning and re-buttoning the cuffs. "Are you okay?" Ryou asked, nudging him.

He nodded, repeating the action. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He glanced up the bus. A boy stood at the front in a full suit. His hair was long, pulled up in dreadlocks and swept back in a ponytail, a mix of black and dyed magenta. He turned to glance around, but Malik ducked his head, and his crimson eyes passed right over him.

Ryou frowned as Malik shifted over to another seat so he was hidden by the person in front, leaving a space between them. Ryou moved with him to the next seat. "You're clearly not."

"I am. Fine, I mean. I'm fine." Malik clasped his hands in his lap, shoulders hunching. His tux was probably creasing at his back but he couldn't bring himself to sit up again. Fuck, why had he bleached his hair again? He should have dyed it dark so he wouldn't be recognised. Mehi was beginning to notice too. She twisted in her seat to look at him, though she didn't ask him if he was alright. "How many more stops?"

"One, and then we're walking for a few minutes."

Malik nodded. They weren't going the same direction. They couldn't be. Even if they were both wearing suits, Atem would never be seen dead at a ballet. But when the bus stopped, he got off.

Malik stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed Ryou and Mehi up to the top of the bus with his head down. It took them a minute to get off - Mehi was wearing a floaty ankle-length dress with heels, and the path was cobbled. The driver snapped the doors shut once they were off and pulled away from the stop.

Malik glanced up and down the street, but Atem was gone. Good. He wasn't going. He couldn't have been. Mehi elbowed him. "Give me your arm. I need help with balance." Malik tried to smile and held out his arm, bent in a typical 'm'lady' fashion. She chuckled and shook her head as Ryou did the same, but took their arms anyway. "I don't know why I put up with you two."

"Because you secretly love it," Ryou decided. All three sets of shoes clicked on the path. Ryou reached into the pocket of his suit as they reached the theater and handed their tickets to the receptionist.

Once they were waved through, they hurried to their seats. All three were in a line, side-by-side, close to the front. Even Malik wouldn't have been able to afford tickets that good, but Bakura had managed to hook them up with four. He wasn't sure why they needed a spare, but he didn't question it.

The room went dark seconds after they sat down, and the curtain rose with the music. On stage, a brown haired Odette danced in a simple blue leotard alone, eyes half closed as though she were unaware of the five hundred people watching her every movement.

She was graceful, arching, like the swan she became. The dance was different to what Malik knew - he supposed the sudio had revamped it to make it stand out a little more. Whatever they had done, it entranced him, and drove all worry about Atem out of his head.

When Bakura came out in all black and grey, the music thundered around them. He had been cast as the villain of the dance - he had insisted that it was the only part they could have given him with the scar on his cheek. It didn't matter that none of the 'good' characters were people of colour from what Malik could see.

Regardless of intent, he was perfect for the role. He danced with more awareness than Odette, and Malik could tell from his movements that he knew full well how many people were watching him, but it only added to his character. Each step was sharp, each twirl and jump short and concise, everything about him portraying that he wanted nothing more than to sort things out so he could finally be happy.

Of course, it didn't work out that way. His dance grew more wild and erratic after the break, slightly less militial and more like a mad king, and by the end, it looked almost improvised. Odette moved with the same practiced precision as she had at the start, but Bakura made it look like he was dancing this dance for the first time in his life.

Malik swiped at his eyes as the curtain fell and stood with Mehi and Ryou to clap. Most of the room behind them stood as well as the dancers came out to bow.

Downstairs, when Bakura finally emerged in his usual hoodie and jeans, Ryou ran up and threw his arms around him. "God, Bakura, that was fantastic!"

"Yeah?" Bakura was grinning, but he seemed shaky. Maybe nerves?

"Absolutely!" Ryou nodded, giving him a squeeze before pulling back. "I don't think I've ever seen you get that into character before."

"Yeah, well it was a bigger part than I'm used to." Bakura rubbed the back of his neck. Yeah, definitely nerves.

"You pulled it off," Mehi assured him. She held a small bouquet of red tulips and passed it to him. His face lit up and he tried to hide it by covering his face with the bouquet.

Malik laughed, but it died in his throat as he saw Odette run out down the stairs and into the waiting arms of Atem. He pressed their lips together and presented her with a gorgeous bouquet of white orchids. Up close, Malik could see she wasn't American. Not fully anyway. Her skin had a darker tint to it, and her eyes were large and almond shaped. He wanted to guess Japanese, but didn't want to generalise.

"Do you know him?" Ryou murmured. Malik started and glanced back to see all three of them watching him.

"I..." He looked at Atem again. "Yeah. Yeah, he went to my old masjid-" Atem hated the word 'mosque' - he claimed it was the west trying to stake their claim on Islam. "-or the one before the last- just- I know him. Yeah." Stay away from me, fag-lover. "We didn't part on the best of terms."

At that moment, Atem looked up and their eyes caught. Malik stiffened, and his old friend looked uncomfortable for a second. He mumbled something to his girlfriend before leading her over. "Malik." His voice was guarded.

"Atem." Malik gave him a small nod. "Come to enjoy the show?"

Atem's lips pursed into a smile. "Yeah. I came to see Anzu." His arm wound around his girlfriend's waist. Definitely part Japanese. "What about you?"

"We all came to see Bakura." Malik cleared his throat. "Um, this is Mehi and Ryou."

Atem gave them a tight smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." It took Ryou a moment to say it. Mehi didn't even bother to reply.

"So..." Atem's throat tightened as he swallowed. "You've been doing well? I haven't seen you around."

Malik tried to stamp down the rage bubbling to the tip of his tongue, but that damn passive smile and the relaxed shoulders were only adding to his irritation. "Yes, it's hard to go to the same places as your family when you've been kicked out."

Anzu shifted but Atem's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I guess it would be."

"It is," Malik assured him. He glanced up at the clock. "Well I suppose you should get going before you're late."

"We're actually going out to dinner," Anzu piped up. "Would you like to join us? It's just a little bit down the road."

"No, I don't think so." This was Bakura's night. Don't do it. He forced a small smile as he looked at her. "But thanks for the invitation."

Her smile looked more than a little relieved and she relaxed. "It's no problem." She looked at Atem. "I'll just go and change quickly. Meet you outside?"

"Sure." Atem smiled and kissed her cheek.

Malik fought the urge to gag. Bakura took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He took a slow breath. "It was good seeing you again, Atem. Have a good night." He turned on his heel, making a break for the door.

The others hurried after him. "What was that about?"

Malik shook his head. Get outside. Get outside. He didn't reply until the cool air was on his face, and his shoulders slumped. The door shut behind them. "Nothing," he whispered. "It was nothing."

The door swung open and grated against the thinly carpeted stone. "Malik!" He tensed and twisted to see Atem emerging from the theater. He was frowning now. The attempt at civility had obviously been a show for Anzu. Malik swallowed and tried to respond, but nothing came out of his mouth as Atem neared him. He let out a slow breath and stopped a foot away from him. "Look... you won't be talking to your sister right?" He shook his head. "What I mean to say is... you wouldn't tell her about Anzu?" Malik frowned. "Because she and my mother are friends, and you know how my mother is about dating non-Muslims and-"

Malik laughed. Actually laughed. The sound made Atem stop in his tracks. "So now you want my help? After you denied me one night of somewhere to sleep and called me a- what was it?"

Atem grimaced. "You don't have to-"

"Oh that's right! A fag-lover." Malik glared at him. "Go have dinner with your girlfriend Atem. Just because you have all the morality of a politician doesn't mean you rubbed off on me. I have no intention of telling my sister about your dating life."

Atem rolled his eyes. "Ah yes, coming from you - the champion of morality," he hissed. His eyes were sparking like hot coal.

"Don't preach to me when you're cherry picking from the Qur'an yourself." Malik's fists clenched and unclenched. His nails dug into the palms of his hands, deeper, deeper. "So you believe the earth is egg-shaped? Or that... that women are half the worth of men and are our property? Or that you shouldn't be able to date Anzu?" Atem scoffed. "No, you wanted to follow the Qur'an word for word in terms of being LGBT, so why won't you do the same for the rest?" He reached forward and caught the gold chain around Atem's neck. "Is this gold? You know men are forbidden to wear that, right?"

Atem yanked away from him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Swearing!" Malik laughed. "Also haraam! It's like you didn't even read the parts of the Qur'an that don't directly benefit you!"

"Allah won't care if I wear gold, or dated a non-Muslim woman, or swore once or twice," Atem insisted. "That doesn't lead to a life of punishment."

"But loving another gender does?" Malik shook his head. His nails were cutting into his skin. "Don't... don't come to me preaching about morality when you ignore anything that doesn't suit you, munafiq."

Atem shook his head and turned towards the theater. "Fucking fag. You'll get what's coming to you."

"Hey," Ryou called. Atem glanced at him and Malik's stomach twisted. The man's brown eyes were ablaze, entire body tense. Mehi looked like she was ready to body slam Atem. Bakura looked calm, but his eyes were also fixed on Atem with an intensity to strong to be passive. But Ryou- Ryou glared at him with all the fury of a thousand suns. "Talk that way about him one more time and I think you'll find yourself worrying less about how he'll fare in the next life and more about how you'll survive this one."

"What did you just say to me?" Atem spat, taking a step towards them.

Mehi stepped in front of Ryou and Malik, but it was Bakura that spoke. "You know, Anzu's probably waiting for you. If you want, I can go in and chat to her for a bit. Keep her entertained." He shrugged. "But I'm not sure how much she likes homophobes. Should we find out?"

Atem's glare deepened for a moment before he huffed and stormed back inside. Bakura gave Malik's hand another squeeze and Ryou touched his arm. "Are you okay?" His voice was soft again.

Malik slowly nodded. "I'm... actually fine." He mightn't have been earlier, with fear rushing through every vein in his body at the sight of Atem, but now he felt... good. Better than good.

"Okay." Bakura released his hand. "Come on - let's go get take out."

Mehi rolled her eyes. "Bakura, you have another show tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that."

"So we can get Thai," Bakura bargained. "I want to eat out tonight."

Ryou sighed but smiled. "Okay, I suppose you deserve it after that show."

"Bingo." Bakura shot him with a finger. "Let's go." He began walking without waiting for them, though they quickly caught up and settled into a pace. After a few minutes, Bakura slowed a little to walk beside Malik. "Hey." Malik glanced at him. "I'm proud of you. What you did back there was pretty badass."

"You mean almost having a panic attack and screaming nonsense outside your workplace?" Malik snorted.

Bakura slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned his head back. "You know exactly what I meant. You standing up to him even though he was your friend - although how you put up with that asshole is beyond me."

Malik snorted. "It was kind of difficult." They walked in silence for a moment. "Will Anzu be alright with him?"

"Yeah." Bakura nodded. "For tonight anyway. I'll tell her what happened tomorrow, but she deserves a nice opening night."

"Okay." Malik looked down at the footpath. He was almost fascinated by the way the cracked bricks passed under his feet. "You were fantastic by the way." Bakura glanced at him. "I've never seen anyone dance like that. You made me want you to actually win."

Bakura laughed. "Now imagine if I was a politician. I'd just dance, get everyone to root for me, and take over the Whitehouse from the inside."

"No, seriously." Malik looked up at him. "Thanks for giving me that ticket."

Bakura just leaned in and butted his shoulder with his forehead. "You can thank me by buying me egg fried rice." He paused. "But thanks."

Malik gave him a smile, and it made him feel better after the encounter with Atem, as though a twenty-four hour bug had miraculously abandoned his system. "I'm proud of you."

"Okay, you can stop now."

"But I am."

"Still, don't."

Malik almost kissed the top of his head. It could have been seen as platonic - Bakura was like a cat; he didn't really have physical boundaries unless he was eating. But he managed to stop himself. "Well it's true."

Bakura ducked his head. When Malik next looked at him, his hood was up, but his cheeks looked darker than usual. "Shut up already," he grumbled. "Making me feel like a good person and all that. I'm a soldier of darkness. I'm meant to be feared."

"Sure you are, honey."

Hope you enjoyed! I changed where Bakura was working to an actual theater in San Francisco so hopefully that's okay. Anyway, I'll see you next week.