- Buried In Silence -
"What would it take for things to be quiet, quiet like the snow? I know this isn't much, but I know I could, I could be better."
Louder Than Thunder, The Devil Wears Prada
Disclaimer:
I own nothing but my writing.
Note:
Rated for language. Perhaps it should be changed eventually, seeing as I will probably find use for every swear in my arsenal. Currently, I'm keeping it at T, unless someone explains to me how offensive the "f-bomb" really is.
If you don't enjoy foul language, don't read it.
The sunlight created a glistening effect on the polished wood floor as it poured in through the ceiling-to-floor windows of her loft. Sitting on her bed, she stared at nothing, mind as blank as the nude-colored walls around her.
Kujaku Mai rubbed her face with a cold hand, shivering at her own touch. While her bedroom was warm, she felt unnecessarily cold.
Such an abnormality; and what with her lack of sleep, she began feigning incredulous ideas. Perhaps there was an entity with her in the room? Maybe she was anemic and had never noticed it before. Perhaps someone was watching her, and the temperature she felt was a subconscious reaction to the uneasiness?
It was all so farfetched, and yet Mai actually contemplated these ideas.
These days, things were different. Rather than being perky, confident, and a little on the conceited side, Mai had begun doubting her self-worth and the validity of the world around her. The young woman never had a history of emotional problems, nor did anyone in her family...perhaps this was a temporary thing? Seasonal depression, or whatever the official term for something of that nature was?
Mai sighed and curled forward, head in her hands. The loneliness was eating at her; waking up tangled in her sheets cold, the only company the furniture and the overbearing silence in her loft.
It had become too much.
When? And was it even the real reason she felt so out of her norm?
Somewhere twisted in her sheets her phone vibrated, indicating a text message, or what was probably an email. Pessimism - that was another "symptom" she had been experiencing as of recently.
Mai hesitated, contemplating whether replying to anyone was worth it.
Those who acted like they cared were full of shit anyway.
After a moment of sitting still and aimlessly staring, Mai reached back and burrowed around beneath the blankets until she was successful in producing her phone from the mess of her bed.
It was a number she didn't recognize that had sent her a message. Squinting suspiciously at the screen, Mai read it over.
Hey, it's been a while. How have you been?
Mai's eyes were fixed on the glass screen of her phone, over-analyzing this text from a stranger...rather, someone who apparently knew her.
Fumbling for the right words, in the end she decided she didn't care whether or not her reply came out right.
Decent. Who is this, anyway?
Uneasy, Mai stood and headed to her vanity, messing with her hair - a nervous habit she had never grown out of. The sudden rush of anxiety was surprising; things like this would have never phased her before, let alone kept her fixated.
When her phone vibrated in reply, she strut to her bed and snatched it up eagerly.
I'm disappointed. You would delete my number.
Mai's nose wrinkled in distaste as she read over the response. That was not really a proper answer, and regardless of what oddity of a mood she was in, Kujaku Mai wasn't doing this bullshit today.
I'm sorry? Who are you to be saying this?
Mai grasped her phone tight in her hand, threatening to break the glass. For whatever reason she was waiting on this person's every word, curiosity like poising seeping through her and into her veins.
Five minutes and no reply. Mai sat down on her bed and stared at the phone in her hand, willing the taunting being on the other end of this conversation to reply to her. When it had been about ten minutes, Mai stood from her bed and tossed her phone on it, heading into the kitchen.
There was no reason she should have been waiting around for someone to reveal his or her identity. This wasn't CSI and Mai would prefer to keep the dramatics - criminal or soap opera - out of her life.
Snatching up her purse and keys, she made the abrupt decision to head out and do a little retail shopping to console her mood. Reaching for the doorknob, she hesitated, and proceeded to storm back into her room and grab impatiently at her iPhone.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The gall of this person was infuriating. Mai despised petty games, and the fact that this was one led her to believe the person had to be a male. Unfortunately there had been quite a few males in her past, and there was no telling which one this was, if it was indeed a man bothering her.
If she didn't have his number, she didn't give two shits about him.
Men.
Mai dropped her phone back onto the bed and stalked out of the room, annoyed at the notion that someone was bothersome enough to initiate a conversation with her and take quite a while to answer her question after multiple inquiries.
It didn't matter. Mai did not care about who it was; if you were important enough, your number was saved with your name. If not, your number wasn't even present in her phone's list of contacts.
Boys. That's all they were - immature, clueless men who thought greatly of themselves, and in reality were nothing more than children.
Maturity was a fascinating thing, really.
x - x - x
He reclined in his chair, threatening to tip it over as he rocked back and forth. Curtains drawn and lights off, he basked in darkness behind his laptop as he evaluated his phone.
Who are you to be saying this?
A proud smirk played on his lips as he read the message over, and did so once more. Kujaku Mai was never easy, which is why he had once more decided to take up the challenge of pursuing her. There was no guarantee his efforts would be successful, but he would like to think that little by little he could draw in the fiery blonde and leave her hanging off of his every word.
Perhaps it was all wishful thinking, but a man could hope.
Picking up his phone and opening its keyboard, he slowly and methodically went about his reply.
Come on, you should know. How many men want to play games with you just to know you're annoyed?
Without thinking twice he hit 'send' and watch the message get added to the rest of the conversation. He smiled.
This was too much fun, and it had scarcely begun.
x - x - x
Bags hanging off her arms, a multitude of them, that was, Mai struggled to squeeze through the front doorway. Shoving the door closed unceremoniously, she set down all her bags on the floor.
Thank God for money. It had allowed her to buy three new dresses, two pairs of heels, a pair of boots, and pair of sandals for when summer came around.
For the first time in a while, Mai felt a distinct contentment about her. It was quite a lovely feeling.
The feeling remained with her as she went about making a snack - a small salad. Smile playing on her face, she glanced over and saw her phone bill sitting on the counter and scowled.
Her phone.
Dropping what she was doing, she walked to her bed and scooped her phone up from where it lie.
Sure enough, a light was flashing, indicating someone had decided to respond to her.
Hopefully.
Not realizing it, she had sucked in a breath that was now suspended in her throat. Opening the message, the foreign number was in bold.
Finally.
Come on, you should know. How many men want to play games with you just to know you're annoyed?
Mai's lip curled in anger. This person was already testing her patience, and they had barely spoken. Who the hell did they think they were?
A lot of men would. Good to know you're not some lesbo thinking I'm into that shit. Now who are you?
If she had the chance, Mai would have gone back in and reworded what she had just sent her unknown acquaintance. She thought the I'm-not-a-lesbian comment was harsh, although it was nothing but the truth.
Grasping her phone in her hand, she stood with her hip cocked, waiting. The answer came much faster than the previous one.
Temper, temper. Don't you want to have a little fun?
Mai tightened her grip on the phone until she heard the case make a small crack. Plastic could not withstand her temper.
No. If you aren't about to so much as give me a name, kindly go fuck yourself and leave me alone. I'm not into this high school bullshit.
With that, Mai held down the power button and confirmed it, watching her phone's screen go black.
Fuck you.
I love Yu-gi-oh, but always seem to have trouble writing for it. I rather enjoy writing from Mai's perspective though. She's got a lot of personality to her.
Please, please review. I enjoy having people add my stories to their favorites and alert them, but I want reviews! Feed back is always appreciated and adored!
So let me know what you think. Hopefully I get enough reviews to motivate me to continue.
