Disclaimer: I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh GX
Title: Storm of Guilt
Friendship: Manjoume, Fubuki
Word Count: 2,412||Status: Complete
Genre: Angst, Friendship||Rated: G
Feedback: All forms eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.
Summary: In the aftermath of his departure from the Society, Manjoume soaks in a storm and makes up his mind.
It hadn't stormed in seven months on Academy Island, not since the night Manjoume dueled Saiou. Ever since then, a quiet rain washed down once in a while and in December, something that might've been snow if one looked the right way had fallen, though it vanished before the sun set that day. Instead, there were endless days of brilliant sunshine. The Society of Light loved every moment of this, of course, and what time they didn't spend on the unfortunately necessary tasks of being students or adoring their beloved Saiou-sama in all of his glory, they spent outside soaking up the sun.
And until recently, Manjoume Jun had not only been among them, he'd been one of their highest ranked members, second only to Saiou-sama himself. He'd adored the sunlight, loathed to see the sun go down, and kept his room brightly lit, just like every other member.
Now he lay back in his room in Osiris Red and stared up at the ceiling. No lights were lit. There wasn't the remotest hint of a sound, not even from his deck, or from his spare cards. He didn't complain about that; the Ojamas had hardly kept quiet in the two days since he'd left that pure-white group. If they were finally going to shut up, he wouldn't stop them.
"Manjoume-kun." He couldn't help but wince at that voice. Without even trying, just with his name, Fubuki could make him regret the day he'd been born. Or the day he'd been reborn. Or the day he'd defeated Asuka in a duel. Or all three at the same time.
But he couldn't lay there forever. He heaved a huge sigh; he knew what Fubuki wanted. He rolled over and sat up, reaching to turn on the bedside light. Just as he'd guessed, Fubuki stood there with a plate of food.
"Here." Fubuki set it down on the nightstand. He didn't immediately leave, for which Manjoume found himself grateful. But he said nothing else, just watching the black-clad Osiris.
Manjoume glanced at the food, not surprised to see it was the usual sort of dinner served to Osiris Reds. Not at all what he'd eaten just a few days earlier.
He could've went to the cafeteria himself and eaten with everyone else. But the thought of seeing all of those faces looking at him turned his stomach. He knew what he'd done. They knew what he'd done. He knew he'd go there sooner or later, but not now. He didn't have to yet, anyway. Ever since he'd returned to his personal room here, Fubuki'd brought him his meals, without Manjoume asking.
"Thanks, Fubuki-san." Calling him that hurt. Fubuki was his teacher, his master! Even better, he hoped Fubuki would be his brother-in-law one day. But to call him any of that now stuck in his throat after what he'd done. Perhaps he'd be able to say it again sometime soon, but not today.
He reached for the chopsticks, stirring the food around a little once he had them, and wondered. He did know what he'd done, but only in the sense that he could see the results. It wasn't something he could remember.
"It's getting dark out there." Fubuki turned from watching Manjoume to look out one of the curtained windows. "I think we're going to have a storm."
Manjoume glanced up at that, something very like anticipation tingling through him. "A thunderstorm?"
"Looks that way." Even as Fubuki spoke, Manjoume caught sight of a flicker of lightning through the window. He couldn't tell offhand if it were sheet lightning or forked, but he didn't care, either. It was lightning. There was thunder. Everything called to him.
He almost decided not to eat at all, but a quick look at Fubuki changed his mind. He wasn't going to ignore what his shishou had troubled to bring him, especially when Fubuki hadn't had to bring it in the first place.
"You don't mind me being here, do you, Manjoume-kun?" Fubuki asked, glancing over his shoulder at him. Manjoume blinked a few times; that wasn't a question he'd ever thought he'd hear.
"Of course not! You're always welcome here!" In all truth, the idea of Fubuki spending a night or two with him had been part of why he'd had extra beds installed when he'd had the room built in the first place. Granted, he hadn't considered them sharing it on any kind of regular basis, but he wasn't going to object, either.
Manjoume hadn't really seen Fubuki smile in too long. But now a faint one appeared on the older student's lips. "Thank you, Manjoume-kun. I needed a place after the White Dorm threw me out."
Of all the things Manjoume envied about Fubuki, his ability to say what could hurt without looking as if he meant to hurt someone rode high on the list, especially right now. He dropped his gaze to the floor. "Sorry about that." Again, something that he knew he'd done, but couldn't properly remember doing: having Fubuki thrown from the dorm.
Fubuki only shook his head and Manjoume returned his attention to his food. Every time lightning arced into view or thunder rolled, however, his attention shot sharply to the window and he ate just a fraction faster. He wasn't downing his food at Juudai's speed (because, really, who could do that and not choke?) but he definitely cleared his plate in a decent amount of time.
"I'm going for a walk." He put his empty plate aside and got to his feet, brushing off his jacket. The thought of being outside wrapped around him, pulling him toward the door faster than anything. He'd hardly left his room since returning there after his duel against Juudai that day and he couldn't stay in those four walls another minute.
He hesitated for a moment. "You want to come?" He didn't know if that was the right way to ask, but at least he'd said something.
"Maybe later." Fubuki's lips moved upward; it wasn't quite the same kind of smile, but it was something, at least. He indicated the empty plate with one graceful wave of his hand. "I should take that back to the kitchen."
Manjoume nodded before he hurried on out. There were so many things he really wanted to say to Fubuki, but every one of them locked up in his throat the moment he even thought about saying any of them. I'll do it one day. He didn't know when or how, but these things needed saying and he wasn't going to run from saying them.
It would probably have been easier if he didn't respect Fubuki the way that he did. It was easy to say anything he wanted to Juudai or Shou. But Fubuki? That was different.
He should smack me a few times. Better still, he should've smacked him when Manjoume wore white and preached about the glory of the Light. That might've had more effect than all of Juudai's dueling. Or at least might've reduced the number of sad looks Fubuki shot his way when he thought Manjoume wasn't looking.
"Where are we going, aniki?" Ojama Yellow floated just a little ahead of him. Manjoume shot him an annoyed look; they were the aces of his deck, yes, but did they have to come out and talk to him so much?
"For a walk." He stood outside of his room for a moment, trying to decide which way to go. Black clouds pulled across the sky, tugged this way and that by winds that grew stronger with every moment. He could all but feel the water in the air, along with the tang of electricity, waiting for just the right moment to unleash all of that strength.
It reminded him of himself, really. That was one of the reasons he was Manjoume Thunder.
Speaking of thunder, a deafening peal rolled overhead, followed a few heartbeats later by a crash of lightning that lit the sky from horizon to horizon. Shrieks and cries rose up from the beach and in short order students scattered to their dorms. None he could see wore white; with this kind of weather brewing, they'd likely enough all stayed indoors with their lights on.
Manjoume made up his mind and set off toward the inner island. A few Red students passed him, giving him curious looks, but he ignored them all in favor of tromping onward. He didn't want to talk to any of them anyway. He didn't think he wanted to talk to anyone right now.
Which was, of course, why the Ojamas kept babbling at him, and he paid no attention. It was enough they were there; he didn't have to talk to them all the time. Or at all.
He tromped his way through the woods until he reached a small clearing. It wasn't one many people knew of, but it gave a fairly good view of most of the inhabited part of the island. He couldn't see anything more than the top of the main building, but Osiris Red, Ra Yellow, and the two Blue dorms were all in sight, to some degree.
Two White dorms. He made a face at the sight of them, glittering even through the rain as it began to fall. They'd be Blue again. He'd see to it himself if he had to.
For now, though, he had something better to look at that the fruits of him being an idiot. He stretched out on the grass and stared up at the sky. Rain already spattered down, thunder and lightning rocketing across the heavens, and he breathed it all in. The Ojamas were gone now, off to wherever they stayed when they weren't bothering him, and he enjoyed his solitude.
Thunder crashed. Lightning bolted. Rain cascaded down, thickly enough that even if he'd tried, he probably couldn't have seen more than a few inches in front of himself. He didn't bother trying. What was to see out there, anyway? Nothing he couldn't see up above, and see better anyway.
Energy, electricity, all of it shimmered and shone in the air and ran through his veins. He breathed faster and faster, letting the rain soak him. His coat would need to dry out after this, and would probably weigh a ton and a half until it did, but it needed this as much as he did.
Not that it needed washing. That was ridiculous. But it needed the thunder. They needed the thunder.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head up to let the rain wash all over him. I was an idiot. Manjoume would've never admitted that out loud. He didn't do so now. But I'm going to make up for it.
That was the only thing he could do. He'd ruined Duel Academia, coating it in white. So, remembering why or not, he would fix it all. I'm going to win Genex. He remembered Genex, of course. Forgetting that was impossible, with all the information on their PDAs and everyone going around dueling all the time. He'd re-watched every duel on his PDA that he could, trying to get caught up on what he'd missed (Saiou had a zero-turn kill? Manjoume knew he'd have to watch out for that!) and what the rules were.
Of course, this meant he'd have to duel Juudai again at some point, otherwise it wouldn't be a true win. If nothing else, he needed to get Juudai's medals. But not just yet. He'd do it, though, and he'd win. He could've won the last time. He remembered that clearly enough.
"I'll win next time. Count on it." He muttered to himself, licking his lips where the rain fell on them as he spoke.
"Talking to yourself, Manjoume-kun?"
He sat up at the sound of Fubuki's voice, shaking his soaked hair. "Fubuki-san! I thought you said..."
Fubuki's smile was warm as the other sat next to him. "I said I wasn't going to walk up here with you. I didn't say I wouldn't follow you later."
Manjoume tried to think of something to say to that and decided a sort of nod was the only decent answer. Fubuki relaxed, letting the rain fall on him. He no more had an umbrella than Manjoume did, nor did he feel the need to get one.
Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, both just enjoying the feel of the rain on them. Manjoume broke the silence. "It feels good up here."
"Ryou and I came up here when we were in our first year." Fubuki replied. He almost looked as if he were going to say something else, but didn't at first. When he did, Manjoume wondered if it were what he'd meant to say at all. "It's a good place to think about things."
Manjoume saw no reason to argue; he'd been doing just that, after all. Thunder and lightning exploded once again overhead and he watched it all, heart pounding in delight. This was who he was. This was what he'd been meant to do. His lips burned to beg Fubuki-san's forgiveness for all that he'd done. Before he'd even thought about it, two words fell.
"I'm sorry."
Fubuki tilted his head back to look at him, then looked away. "We can talk about it later." Manjoume didn't need to hear him say the words to know what he meant.
When my sister's herself again.
He ground his teeth for a heartbeat, then nodded. That would be a good place to start. He didn't know if he could, but he'd be damned if he didn't try.
But now wasn't the day to try. She'd be holed up in the dorm, ignoring everything and everyone that wasn't pure and white, and if he so much as got to knock on the door he'd be lucky. He wasn't one of them anymore.
Tomorrow would be another day. He'd try then. He'd put his entire soul into the duel, reminding her of who she was, just as Juudai'd reminded him.
Today, though, he closed his eyes once more and let the rain soak him all the way through, let the lightning and the thunder play over his head and through his heart, and knew that he would undo all that he'd done.
The End