DJG: This is just a small drabble that popped into my head the other day. For now, consider it complete, but if there's interest, I might write something with the other characters. :)
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Gray eyes narrowed, locking against a matching set.
"Who are you?" He demanded his reflection, hands clenching into fists as if angered by this likeness of him.
It was unnatural. A perfect copy.
Gray eyes darted up and down, as if judging him for every similar aspect.
Through imaginary glass he saw himself, Chazz Princeton, in all his fallen glory. He saw the duelist he once was, saw the talent he could have had. The blue of the uniform was striking against his pale skin and dark eyes. It made him stand out, unlike his chosen coat and outfit of black. It made nothing on him stand out, which was just what he wanted, not to be defined by a so-called rank.
In this reflection, he saw himself, but he saw something else as well.
He saw his future that could never be again.
Chazz could see himself clearly now, a small scowl, distrust in those dark ebony eyes, one hand on his deck, another on his hip.
Ready to do battle, if necessary.
A skill taught to him many times over by his brothers, Slade and Jagger.
The dark haired duelist sneered at the lack of response, as if this mirror image would respond to his queries.
"You tryin' to make fun of me or something? Let me guess, you think you're good enough to be The Chazz? Well, you're wrong!" He said with his usual attitude, but this time it fell flat. He lacked his usual conviction.
After all, he was talking to himself.
How could this image be good enough to be 'The Chazz'? He wasn't even good at just being himself, the one behind all the pompous bravado.
How could he ever stack up to the expectations he placed on himself? To play the part of someone who knew exactly what he wanted in life? He didn't know what he wanted, just that he wanted to be away from his brothers. Or did he...? Gah, it was all so confusing!
He knew nothing, and his reflection knew that.
Chazz glared as those dark eyes stated back into his, unflinching and unblinking. His reflection could only be as flustered as he was, after all.
"What's that? Not talking, huh? Well, good...you and...everyone else." Chazz trailed off, eyes darting away. His mouth pressed into a thin line.
It wasn't that the others at Duel Academy didn't speak to him at all, but it was only the bare minimum. Small talk, badmouthing each other during duels, and silence was what he endured during school or free time.
Was it intentional? Probably not.
Did he deserve to be ignored?
Probably so.
Did it still hurt, just a little, to be ignored so easily, just as his brothers had done as soon as he stopped being useful?
A flinch.
Most definitely so.
People who cared about him genuinely came few and far between. The Slacker tried more than anyone, except for maybe Atticus. But those two could only do so much to repair the damage his brothers had left behind.
So when his reflection gave a ghost of a smile and reached out a hand to lay it on his shoulder, Chazz's eyes widened. It...wasn't a mirror? It wasn't a hallucination, or a dream? He looked up into the face that was identical to his, the hair that was styled in just the same way. Chazz stared at the stitching on the Obelisk Blue uniform, frayed ever so slightly on the left sleeve where he had caught it on a sharp corner of someone's duel disk way back in his first year, before the mess with the School Duel.
Before he stopped being someone.
His reflection locked eyes with him again, and although he didn't look joyful, his expression was that of someone who had suffered as much as he had, and had gotten through it in the end.
His reflection smiled ever so slightly.
"I'll talk to you if that's what you really want, 'Chazz'. My name isn't important, just call me 'Manjoume Thunder'. You might want to sit down...we have a lot to talk about."