OKAY, FIRST THINGS FIRST. I AM A TRUSTSHIPPER. DO NOT LEAVE ME A REVIEW SAYING SOMETHING LIKE "omg i no, kiaba totaly hates ischizu, how can ppl evr think their a cople!1!11!" YOUR REVIEW WILL BE DELETED AND I WILL CONSIDER YOU AN IDIOT.
Now that we have those pleasentries out of the way...yes. As I said on devART, this one of those things that I write, and then I look at it and think, "Am I a Trustshipper or not?". It may not seem like it, but... this scene is why I adore the couple. Just... I don't know. The way they interact there. Half it of it shown (or I try to show it) in this part of the fic; the other half, I hope, will be written tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll manage to convey what it is that I love. Maybe not. Maybe it's all just my insanity anyway.
But I know they're not in love in the series. And what I can't stand is those five-or-so fanfictions that ALL have the same plot--after the duel between Isis and Seto, Seto goes to Isis and, after a bit of preamble, kisses her (for whatever reason) and asks her if she had forseen that. It's been done already and it's cliche. Just stop.
I don't really like any fanfiction that has them in love during the timespan of the series, unless it's really well-written. And I mean REALLY well-written.
Oh! And if any of you are going to protest "That's not what happened in the anime!"... yes. I am aware of that. I'm currently working on a plan to murd--I mean speak with whomever it was that decided to change that for the anime. It's in the manga.
P.S. I don't own YGO. If I did, I wouldn't have let them change that scene.
He
Hated Her
He hated her.
He hated everything about her, from the gold and off-white that she wore to the way she spoke, confident but confidential, impassionate but intimate.
And she knew that—she must have. She must have known that when she met him after his loss to Yuugi, he'd wanted nothing more than to just brush past her without any discussion, without acknowledging her existence.
But she always did command notice.
And maybe, even without her stupid Necklace, she had the power to read minds, because somehow she had known exactly what he was thinking about—Yuugi's chance of victory—had known it would be the perfect conversation starter. Like some insanely specific icebreaker.
The thing was, he much preferred the ice to remain unbroken.
He hated the way she made him stop and think, the way she would come back with sharper words after he brushed her off. He hated the fact that he could read hieratic, and even more, he hated the fact that she somehow knew this. Somehow she knew that it was the best way to make him uncomfortable, the best way to grab his attention because no matter what, he did want to know why he could read a language he'd never seen before, even if…
No, never mind. He didn't want to know that much.
He hated, hated the way she thought, the way she believed that everything was part of fate. The way she believed, even now, that there were some parts of fate that could not be changed.
Like that tablet—a prayer to a friend? Ridiculous. And he'd said that—but she didn't care. (She never cared. Why had he thought this time would be any different?)
He hated how she seemed to know his every thought, his every motive; it was unbalancing, and just as humiliating as having to show his opponent his hand. Didn't she understand that there were rules, unspoken, unwritten rules about how close one was allowed to get when talking to him? Or did she know and just not care?
She irritated him; her soft, even voice often reduced him to shouting threats. He hated the fact that she could do that.
(He hated the pity and understanding her face had shown as she listened to what Mokuba had tearfully shouted, hated that she of all people would be privy to that conversation. He hated the fact that maybe that was his fault.)
He hated that she never showed any response to being goaded or insulted. She always spoke in that calm voice, that flat voice devoid of emotion, no matter what he said to her.
And he hated how she looked when she was in despair.
He hated that that expression had made him stop, had made him catch his breath loud enough for her to look at him again. And he hated how he'd known what she was thinking, what she was planning, and how it had reminded him of a time when he'd had nothing left to lose and had stood on the edge of a tower, far, far above the ground.
He hated the unstoppable empathy he'd felt, the inescapable urge to help her.
He knew, now, that they were similar, that she was all too human—all too like him.
And he hated her for it.
Sorry for the rant at the beginning (well, actually, I'm not THAT sorry, I've been planning it for a week...), but that's just the way I feel about this couple and how it's written.
I think it's not... that he hates her, exactly. He resents her, and she pushes too hard and makes him uncomfortable, and to put up a wall he tells himself that he hates her. Which is essentially the mental talk he's having with himself in this fic.
As long as your thoughts do not consist of the example at the top, I would love to hear what you think of this couple (romantic or non-romantic), even if you disagree with me. In fact, even if you do feel similarly to the made-up response at the top, if you can word it nicely and logically, I will be glad to receive your review.