Let Me Cope - by Homophobe Eddie
Chapter One: Damage Report
"Okui-sensei," Bakura said nervously as he fidgeted with his notebook, "I… er… I was sick last Friday…"
He was careful to avoid making eye contact, the gaze of his dark irises staying solely on the worn notepad in his pale hands. He had always hated approaching the teacher for assignments after sick days. It made him feel so doltish and dependent. This was silly, and he knew it, but he was an innately insecure boy.
The teacher glanced up to him with a questioning expression, and then she smiled enthusiastically. Okui-sensei was a spirited woman, though a bit ditzy. Her zeal frightened him sometimes. "Oh, Bakura! Last week I assigned everyone a disease for the topic of their essays, but since you weren't here, I was thinking over the weekend—you're such a talented writer! You could write a special essay on the way people cope with the loss of a loved one who suffered from a disease…"
Bakura blinked and started to reply, but was cut off by the eccentric teacher before any words could escape him.
"We have two students in this grade that recently lost their brother to a heart tumor just last month—you could interview them!" She smiled brightly. "They're Royama Takao and Yuumiko—you've probably met them at some point."
He wanted to object. The very idea was sickening to him. It was so sadistic! They'd just lost their brother and he was expected to take advantage of their loss for his own grade?
Yes. Of course he was.
Bakura stood in the doorway of the gym unsurely, hesitant to confront the lone person within it. He had decided to talk to Yuumiko first because he knew the two were bound to be angry with him, and, well… it seemed less likely that the female of the duo would hit him over it. So, after talking to a few of her friends, he had tracked her to be in the school gym.
Now that it was after school hours, Yuumiko had exchanged the normal required school wear for her gym uniform, and her long brunette hair was pulled back into a tight but sloppy ponytail. She stood in one specific spot on the floor, repeatedly shooting a basketball into the hoop. It was a simple pattern: ball went up, ball went through hoop. He supposed that after the shock of her brother's death, the repetitive nature of the activity must have been therapeutic. Bakura stood there for the longest time, watching her. He was hesitant to approach her out of fear that the reason for the meeting would offend her.
Bakura was taken off guard, however, when Yuumiko's head suddenly snapped in his direction. "Well?" she asked him, her grey-blue eyes fiery with impatience.
Completely surprised by the sudden movement and question, he stood there, his pale face frozen in a gaping expression.
"Are you going to stand there and stare or are you going to come over here?" the girl snapped in agitation.
"… Sorry," Bakura mumbled as he made his way toward her. "I…" He couldn't bring himself to bring it up immediately. He changed the subject. "You're good at that. Basketball, I mean."
"I know," she responded curtly.
Bakura sighed in defeat. She was being so rude, and there could only be one reason for that. Surely she already knew why he was there. "I'm here to talk to you about… your brother… for a report for Okui-sensei…"
"I know," she replied dryly. "Okui talked to me earlier to tell me about it."
"Oh," Bakura answered dumbly.
She scowled. "You've got a lot of nerve, you know? People like you disgust me. Coming here to make me talk about my brother who died less than a month ago, not caring how painful it is for me; all you care about is your damn grade..."
Bakura was taken aback. "I… no, I… I didn't want… I… I'm sorry…"
"The only thing you're sorry about is the fact I'm not cooperating to get you higher points with the teacher," Yuumiko hissed hotly, eyes now blazing with sudden fury.
"No, that's… that's not true…" Bakura argued weakly. He was sure her angry words were to hide her grief, but they still stung.
She glared at him for a moment longer, then let out a sigh and looked down at the basketball in her hands. "Look, if my brother were here, I'm sure he'd be happy to help you out and be the subject of your stupid report so you'd get a stupid A, but I'm not him, and I don't want to talk about it, okay?"
Bakura watched her unsurely. The words were the most gentle ones she'd used so far, but they were still firm, and he was afraid to say the wrong thing and incense her further.
"Sorry… I just… I didn't mean…" he stammered.
Yuumiko dropped the basketball she was holding. It bounced a little, then just rolled slowly off. She picked up the tote bag that had been on the ground a yard or so away from her feet. "Look, I gotta go—homework. Just… leave me alone, okay? Leave me alone…" she sighed as she pulled the bag on over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry…" Bakura said one last time as he pushed past him and made her way across the gym and through the exit. He rubbed his arm nervously as he stared at the door. If that was the sister, he was terrified to see what the other brother was like.
Author's Note: That was pretty short, and not very well-written. Sorry, guys. Oh-- and I will NOT call him Ryou. Bakura! Bakura! Bakura! Oh, and I intentionally gave Yuumiko a Mary Sue name. That should be explained later. Oh, and this won't be a romance, so don't worry. If there's any romance, it will be OC/OC. I don't write Canon Character/OC romances.
Chapter One: Damage Report
"Okui-sensei," Bakura said nervously as he fidgeted with his notebook, "I… er… I was sick last Friday…"
He was careful to avoid making eye contact, the gaze of his dark irises staying solely on the worn notepad in his pale hands. He had always hated approaching the teacher for assignments after sick days. It made him feel so doltish and dependent. This was silly, and he knew it, but he was an innately insecure boy.
The teacher glanced up to him with a questioning expression, and then she smiled enthusiastically. Okui-sensei was a spirited woman, though a bit ditzy. Her zeal frightened him sometimes. "Oh, Bakura! Last week I assigned everyone a disease for the topic of their essays, but since you weren't here, I was thinking over the weekend—you're such a talented writer! You could write a special essay on the way people cope with the loss of a loved one who suffered from a disease…"
Bakura blinked and started to reply, but was cut off by the eccentric teacher before any words could escape him.
"We have two students in this grade that recently lost their brother to a heart tumor just last month—you could interview them!" She smiled brightly. "They're Royama Takao and Yuumiko—you've probably met them at some point."
He wanted to object. The very idea was sickening to him. It was so sadistic! They'd just lost their brother and he was expected to take advantage of their loss for his own grade?
Yes. Of course he was.
Bakura stood in the doorway of the gym unsurely, hesitant to confront the lone person within it. He had decided to talk to Yuumiko first because he knew the two were bound to be angry with him, and, well… it seemed less likely that the female of the duo would hit him over it. So, after talking to a few of her friends, he had tracked her to be in the school gym.
Now that it was after school hours, Yuumiko had exchanged the normal required school wear for her gym uniform, and her long brunette hair was pulled back into a tight but sloppy ponytail. She stood in one specific spot on the floor, repeatedly shooting a basketball into the hoop. It was a simple pattern: ball went up, ball went through hoop. He supposed that after the shock of her brother's death, the repetitive nature of the activity must have been therapeutic. Bakura stood there for the longest time, watching her. He was hesitant to approach her out of fear that the reason for the meeting would offend her.
Bakura was taken off guard, however, when Yuumiko's head suddenly snapped in his direction. "Well?" she asked him, her grey-blue eyes fiery with impatience.
Completely surprised by the sudden movement and question, he stood there, his pale face frozen in a gaping expression.
"Are you going to stand there and stare or are you going to come over here?" the girl snapped in agitation.
"… Sorry," Bakura mumbled as he made his way toward her. "I…" He couldn't bring himself to bring it up immediately. He changed the subject. "You're good at that. Basketball, I mean."
"I know," she responded curtly.
Bakura sighed in defeat. She was being so rude, and there could only be one reason for that. Surely she already knew why he was there. "I'm here to talk to you about… your brother… for a report for Okui-sensei…"
"I know," she replied dryly. "Okui talked to me earlier to tell me about it."
"Oh," Bakura answered dumbly.
She scowled. "You've got a lot of nerve, you know? People like you disgust me. Coming here to make me talk about my brother who died less than a month ago, not caring how painful it is for me; all you care about is your damn grade..."
Bakura was taken aback. "I… no, I… I didn't want… I… I'm sorry…"
"The only thing you're sorry about is the fact I'm not cooperating to get you higher points with the teacher," Yuumiko hissed hotly, eyes now blazing with sudden fury.
"No, that's… that's not true…" Bakura argued weakly. He was sure her angry words were to hide her grief, but they still stung.
She glared at him for a moment longer, then let out a sigh and looked down at the basketball in her hands. "Look, if my brother were here, I'm sure he'd be happy to help you out and be the subject of your stupid report so you'd get a stupid A, but I'm not him, and I don't want to talk about it, okay?"
Bakura watched her unsurely. The words were the most gentle ones she'd used so far, but they were still firm, and he was afraid to say the wrong thing and incense her further.
"Sorry… I just… I didn't mean…" he stammered.
Yuumiko dropped the basketball she was holding. It bounced a little, then just rolled slowly off. She picked up the tote bag that had been on the ground a yard or so away from her feet. "Look, I gotta go—homework. Just… leave me alone, okay? Leave me alone…" she sighed as she pulled the bag on over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry…" Bakura said one last time as he pushed past him and made her way across the gym and through the exit. He rubbed his arm nervously as he stared at the door. If that was the sister, he was terrified to see what the other brother was like.
Author's Note: That was pretty short, and not very well-written. Sorry, guys. Oh-- and I will NOT call him Ryou. Bakura! Bakura! Bakura! Oh, and I intentionally gave Yuumiko a Mary Sue name. That should be explained later. Oh, and this won't be a romance, so don't worry. If there's any romance, it will be OC/OC. I don't write Canon Character/OC romances.