Disclaimer: I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal
Title: Bad Decisions
Characters: Mizael, Durbe, Vector
Word Count: 1,036||Status: One-shot
Genre: Friendship||Rated: G
Challenge: Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, section C, prompt #024, write a post-canon fic; Written for the One Character Boot Camp, prompt #008, lame
Summary: Mizael just makes bad choices when he's injured. Ranging from trying to walk without crutches to listening to whatever Vector has in mind.

Mizael steeled himself, concentrated, and hopped a few paces forward. His fingers clenched into his palms as he did, sharp razors of pain racing up his leg. He could do this. He would do this. He wasn't going to let this accident stop him from doing anything that he wanted to do.

He could feel his balance going. The pain wasn't too bad, but it was distracting, and he couldn't keep himself on his feet. He started to pitch forward…

Durbe's arms wrapped around him from one side, and he refused to admit that he breathed a quick sigh of relief.

"Why aren't you sitting down?" Durbe asked, helping him back into the chair he'd abandoned. "Or at least using the crutches?"

Mizael hated sitting down right now. It didn't feel right. He itched to get up and move, no matter how much his ankle screamed in pain. "I don't need them."

"Yes, you do. You broke your ankle," Durbe pointed out. Mizael refused to look at where said ankle rested on the footstool. He shouldn't have broken it at all. He was a Barian, for the sake of everything! Or had been. Or something.

"It'll be healed in a few days," Mizael said gruffly, turning his attention to the library's ceiling. "I'll be fine then."

"Perhaps but you're not healed yet." Durbe shook his head, a motion Mizael caught mostly out of the corner of his eye. "I don't want you to make it worse. Please."

Mizael still stared resolutely at the ceiling. He didn't see a need to dignify any of this with an answer. So he'd mildly injured himself. He didn't need coddling because of that. But Durbe would always be Durbe and that meant he watched out for them almost as much as Nasch did.

And being Durbe also meant he understood when Mizael was going to be stubborn, which usually meant all the time. So he simply put the crutches within Mizael's reach. "Dinner is going to be in another hour." He did not ask if Mizael would need help. Mizael only nodded. He could make it on his own. It might take a little extra time but he could still make it.

Durbe watched him for another moment or two before he started out of the library. Mizael considered calling him back, just to have someone else to talk to. He didn't, though. If he'd had a better reason than that, he would have. But Mizael's pride didn't vanish because of being human, let alone because of a hurt ankle.

He closed his eyes and leaned back into the comfortable chair. If they still had their full Barian powers, this would never happened in the first place. It was so ridiculous! All it had taken to put him in this position was just being on the stairs when a small earthquake shook the area. Hardly anything worth speaking of, but he'd had his mind on something else at the time and he'd lost his footing and landed badly.

At least it would only take a few days to finish healing. He could count on that much at least. Soon enough he'd be back on his feet and could put all of this behind him.

"Oh, there you are!" A far too peppy voice spoke up. Vector peered around the corner, grinning at him. "You know, since you've got some time to spare now, I was wondering- hey!"

Mizael grabbed hold of one of his crutches and swung it around, coming within a breath of hitting the ginger-haired Barian. "No." He didn't care what Vector wanted. He wanted nothing at all to do with it.

Vector pouted at him. At least Mizael thought that was what that look was supposed to be. He didn't find it very convincing. Vector didn't always give his false expressions his best effort when it wasn't something he was genuinely attached to. "You wound me!"

"I haven't yet." Not that he hadn't wanted to. He just hadn't managed to do so. Yet. The thought remained so tempting.

"And you never will, either," Vector retorted, eyes glimmering with mischief. "But if you're not interested, then I'll be off."

"The sooner the better." Mizael returned to resting. Maybe if he did this enough, he'd actually be back on his feet that much sooner.

He couldn't help the small tingle of unease that slipped down his spine as Vector's footsteps receded. Now that he thought about it, the only thing worse than going along with whatever Vector wanted was not knowing what he wanted but knowing he was up to something in the first place.

No. He would remain firm. Vector had always liked getting under his skin and this was nothing more than one of those attempts. He resettled himself and kept his eyes closed.

That resolve lasted for all of five minutes before he swung himself up and reached for his crutches. Damn it, Vector. It wasn't curiosity. It wasn't friendship. It was knowing that if he didn't at least try to reign Vector in, whatever Vector had in mind would at least partially be his fault, if only because he hadn't tried to hold him back to some degree.

He tried not to think about how it also wasn't the fact he was bored out of his mind and needed something to do that wasn't sit and stare at the ceiling or take a nap that he didn't really want in the first place. Vector had a thousand faults, but he was never, ever boring.

Mizael hadn't gone two steps out of the library before Vector stepped out of the room next to it, a very satisfied grin gracing his features. Mizael said nothing at all, only stared at him expectantly.

"Come on," Vector said, moving with his usual grace. Mizael hated him for that more than anything right now.

"This better be worth my time," Mizael muttered. Vector chuckled.

"Oh, it will be. I could hardly let you waste away from boredom, now could I?"

Mizael only grunted and followed along. He hated being injured. He always made bad decisions when he was. Now couldn't be any different.

But at least he wasn't bored anymore.

The End