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 Duel Monsters
Title: Bad Luck
Pairing: Thief King Bakura x Kisara
Word Count: 2,481||Status: One-shot
Genre: Drama||Rated: PG-13
Challenge: Yu-Gi-Oh Pairings Challenge, Season 12, Round 4: Thief King Bakura x Kisara/Kisara x Thief King Bakura: Outcastshipping
Summary: [one-shot, Yu-Gi-Oh Pairings Challenge Season 12, Round 4: Thief King Bakura x Kisara/Kisara x Thief King Bakura, Outcastshipping] Those with white hair and blue eyes are said to bring bad luck. That might be true. It's all in how you look at it.
Bakura lounged back in his chair, cup of inferior wine in one hand, the remains of his dinner spread before him. He wouldn't stay much longer, but he liked to enjoy the pleasant feeling of being full whenever he could. It didn't come as often as he liked, given his particular circumstances. But tonight he'd feasted well and he would revel in it while he could.
He could feel wary eyes on him and let a smile play across his lips for a few moments. This inn held a good share of common townspeople, mostly those who had no one to cook for them in their own homes. They'd likely never seen anyone like him before. He liked imagining what they thought of him. Let it keep them away from actually talking to him.
"White hair…" The words whispered from one of the watchers to another, and the Thief King tilted his head just enough to hear what they might be discussing. "Another one with white hair."
The one he spoke to leaned back to his companion and clearly believed himself to be whispering, no matter that his voice rang loud. "At least this one's a man. And doesn't have blue eyes."
Bakura's eyes narrowed for a moment, and both of the others quickly applied themselves to their dinner. The thief knew something of their superstitions; white hair and blue eyes bespoke bad luck, or so the tales whispered. Those who had it who were women were even worse.
He hadn't made up his mind on if he believed the stories or not; while he'd had more than his fair sure of bad luck, he held to the opinion it was because of the Pharaoh and his high and mighty priests than anything else. Not to mention, it was so much more satisfying to vent all of his rage on them than to rail over the color of his hair. And even if it were his hair, then the Gods had given it to him, and as the Pharaoh and priests were supposedly the representatives of the Gods, they were still the proper target of his fury.
That settled, he turned his thoughts to who else might be in the area that had white hair. There weren't many who did; he was the only one he knew, in fact. He swirled the wine in his cup and took a quiet drink, about to dismiss the whole thought when he heard a crash of plates and a voice raised in anger a heartbeat later.
"How dare you! This is the thanks that I get? I take you in and allow you a place to live, work to do, and food on your plate, and you do this?"
It was the innkeeper; Bakura hadn't heard him yell like that before, but there was no doubt on the matter when he stalked into the main room, dragging someone behind him. Bakura's curiosity on who might have white hair was satisfied now, as a gleam of glistening white trailed behind the unfortunate soul.
"No more!" The innkeeper's shouts grew louder and louder with every passing word and he shook one fist in her face. The girl flinched back, shoulders drooped, large blue eyes wet with tears. Her dress resembled a bag used to carry vegetables in more than anything else, and bore a long streak of water down the front of it.
"I'm sorry." Her words were barely loud enough for anyone to hear them, and if Bakura weren't used to listening for the slightest sounds of traps, he might not have. "I won't do it again."
"No, you won't." The innkeeper pulled her along toward the door. "You're done here, girl. I don't want to see you here ever again."
Her eyes widened even more, and one small hand fisted at her mouth. "But I…I…"
"Shut up!" The innkeeper waved his free hand at her. "You're lucky that I don't have you thrown in prisoner or whipped out of town. I knew you were nothing but bad luck anyway."
Bakura's lips turned down the faintest bit. Something didn't ring right about this. He presumed from what he'd heard that she'd dropped a plate or something of that nature, stirring up the innkeeper's wrath, but that wasn't it. There was something about her that didn't feel right with him. A sense of power coiled within her that was at odds with how she pleaded uselessly for the innkeeper to let her go, to not throw her out.
He leaned forward, reaching out in a way that he seldom did with anyone. He'd met those with kas of various kinds over the years as he'd fought to develop his bond with Diabound. They ranged from barely worth mentioning to nearly as strong as he was.
He tended to kill those who had kas as strong. It was good practice for Diabound, and for him, and he didn't think he needed the competition anyway.
All in all, while he couldn't see the shape of someone's inner beast, the stronger said beast became, the more easily he was able to sense its existence. The more he stared at her, the more certain he was that a ka of unfathomable power lurked deep within her soul.
And that was what bothered him about all of this. There was no way that she could have a ka so strong and not know about it. Kas didn't gain strength from ignorance. Those he'd fought always knew about their power and many studied at the various temples in order to gain strength and bring them under control. It wasn't done often; he knew the Pharaoh and priests didn't want commoners to have that kind of power, but it did happen now and then. With that kind of power, she should've been a priestess or a mage, even. The priests wouldn't allow that kind of strength to go unclaimed.
At the very least they would rip the power out of her and put it to work for them.
But here she was, in a border village that only loosely could claim to even be a part of the kingdom, allowing herself to be thrown out as if she had no more strength to defend herself than a mere babe.
"I knew she'd get kicked out sooner or later." One of those who'd spoken before declared as he finished his mug of beer. "We're just lucky that she didn't burn the whole place down with us in it."
Bakura's eyes narrowed at that. This struck a chord in the deepest regions of his heart, such as it was. He took a long drink of his own wine and made his plans.
Kisara stumbled down the single dusty lane, trying to keep her tears from blinding her. She'd never expected to stay here forever; something always happened so she had to move on. She'd forgotten how long she'd wandered like this, finding work where she could, enough to put food in her mouth and gain a safe place to rest for a night. Sometimes it seemed as if she'd done so forever, and would do so forever more. In a thousand years, would she still wander from town to town, with no home and no one to call friend?
She didn't often let herself feel this down, and fought back the grief even now. She would need to get out of town soon, before her former employer decided to no longer be kind and summoned the local guards to take her away. She'd committed no actual crimes, but that didn't always matter to people like them. Her hair and eyes were often all they needed to see in order to drive her away.
Long streaks of shadows ghosted all around as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, only moments after she made her way past the last of the buildings. She'd officially left town now, but she didn't stop moving. She would walk until dawn if she had to, just to make certain of her own safety.
She'd done it before. She didn't doubt she would do it again.
"Where are you going?" The question came from the darkness and she had to stop herself from tripping in surprise. Very few people asked anything of her that was like a civil question and she had to scramble to think of a proper answer.
"Nowhere." That was the story of her life, going from nowhere to nowhere and stopping at some places along the way. She strained her eyes, trying to see who had interrupted her, and was more than a little surprised to see a well-built young man coming closer to her. She thought he looked a trifle familiar, as if she'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn't think of where. "Who…who are you?"
"You can call me Bakura." He stared down at her, all that she could really see of him being the faint outline of his form, and a head of hair as white as her own. "And you are?"
She swallowed a little, wishing she'd been able to have a drink before leaving the inn. Her voice scraped in her throat as she managed to say her name. "Kisara." She wondered exactly what someone like him would want with her. She'd never seen him in the village in the three weeks she'd stayed here, but from his build and clothes, she guessed he had a comfortable position somewhere in the world. "Is there…can I do something for you?" Perhaps he would like a companion to guard his rest while he returned to his home. She wasn't very strong, but she could do that, at least.
He didn't take his eyes off her for a moment, and a strange chill wrapped all around her at his expression. "Why did you let him throw you out?"
Kisara tilted her head, not understanding what he meant at first. Then it clicked. "Oh. What else would I have done?" She'd tried her best to convince the innkeeper that she wouldn't drop any more dishes, but she hadn't had any success. What else could she do?
"You have a powerful ka. You could likely lay waste to this entire village if you chose." He stared down at her, and she shifted a pace back, not liking that look at all. "You could be more than what you are."
"I don't know what you're talking about." She knew something of what a ka was; she'd heard them discussed now and then over the years. But the idea that she had one herself, especially one that was supposedly powerful? That didn't make any sense. She wasn't powerful. She was just Kisara, strange and pale and destined to wander forever.
"Don't you?" He didn't take his eyes off her. "I can feel it in you. I don't know what it is, but I know it's there. Quite nearly as strong as mine."
She didn't doubt that he had a powerful one now that he'd said it. She could feel that strength staring at her from his eyes. But she shook her head. "You're wrong. I'm sorry, but I don't have anything like that."
A frown formed between his brows. "Of course you do. How can you not know?"
"I know that I don't have one. You're wrong." Kisara started to move to one side, wanting to find some form of shelter before the night grew too dark. If he had a powerful ka of his own, then he didn't need a companion, which meant she didn't need to stay. Something about him didn't entirely reassure her that he would be a safe companion anyway.
His hand flew out and seized her by the wrist before she could move by him properly. He stared at her, eyes burning with a low rage. "Why do you let them treat you like that? Why do you just do nothing?"
Her lips worked, but nothing coherent came out of them. He gestured with his other hand to the strip of houses and buildings beyond them. "If they treated me like they do you, this is what their fate would be."
She began to ask what he meant, when something dark and shadowed rose up behind him. Her eyes widened and rounded at the sight of the gigantic reptilian creature she could faintly see for the briefest of moments before it shot toward the houses, bursting through them without hesitance. A soft cry burst from her lips and she shook her head quickly.
"What are you doing? What did they do to you?" She wished she did have some kind of powerful monster, one that could protect people from dangers like this.
Bakura didn't let her go and she wasn't strong enough to pull herself away without breaking something. "They consider people like us bad luck, Kisara. Simply because of what color our hair or eyes might be. You knew that, didn't you?"
Bad luck, bad luck! She'd heard plenty of people, children and adults, calling that after her in multiple places, here like anywhere else. Go away, bad luck girl!
"So?" She'd never thought that was a reason to hurt people! She'd rather stay away from people, which meant that she wouldn't be hurt, nor would they be hurt by her existence, than punish them for fearing her. If she could find a place to live where she would be able to provide her own food and shelter and not interfere with anyone else's lives, she would've done so gladly. "That doesn't mean they deserve to die!"
Bakura bared his teeth in something Kisara guessed after a moment's thought was meant to be a smile. It didn't look very happy. "They and those like them deserve nothing less."
Kisara yanked her arm again, managing to squirm out of his grip this time, and took one step back toward the village, wondering if there was anything she could do to help. One quick look showed there was almost nothing left of the place already, aside from shattered buildings and screaming people.
A voice she recognized from having it yell at her for three weeks rose above the noise. "It's her! The bad luck girl!" The innkeeper, or perhaps former innkeeper now, howled. "This is all her fault!"
Bakura hissed, not looking at her as he did. "These are the ones you'd prefer to spare?"
Kisara wrenched herself around and fled into the night without looking back, her heart pounding and tears blinding her more than the darkness did. Why would he do something like that? Who would kill for something so…so…so petty? It didn't make any sense at all.
She kept on running, not looking back, and in the deepest confines of her soul, she wondered if perhaps the people were right, and those with white hair and blue eyes did indeed bring bad luck.
The End