DV: Hey guys! So as you've probably seen, I've changed my url to DisposableVillain. I just outgrew my old one. Anyway, I got this idea from a comic called the Heartsmith and I did my best to take the dialogue from it while putting my own spin on it. Check it out! Hope you enjoy!
-DISPOSABLEVILLAIN-
Miho stood on the edge of the street, a smile on her face – not stretching quite far enough to be genuine.
A wicker basket hung hooked around her elbow, covered by a purple cloth. A boy with tanned skin glanced at her as he passed.
Her smile grew and she dipped her hand into the basket, pulling out a glowing, red heart that floated just above the palm of her hand. "Would you like to buy a heart? I have quite a few beauties to offer." The boy hesitated before walking towards her. "What's your name?"
"Marik."
No last name. Well that was fine; Miho was used to similar clients. Her hand dipped back into the basket and she pulled out another heart.
It was smaller than she had anticipated, but that was also fine. "Does this one fit?"
Marik took the heart and held it to his chest. For a moment, nothing happened.
Miho was beginning to wonder if she should get rid of that heart – it was popping up for too many people.
But then it faded into Marik's chest.
He didn't smile, but his eyes brightened. "What do I owe you?"
Miho chewed her lower lip. "Two hundred."
Marik hummed and pulled the money out of his pocket, his skirt fluttering in the breeze. "Not a high price. I would have paid a lot more, especially considering how long I've been looking for a heart."
Miho shrugged. "If someone needs something to survive – something that the majority has – I don't think it should cost much. Or anything, but I have to cover expenses somehow."
Marik offered her a small grin and nodded. "Thank you."
She suspected it was the first genuine thing he had said to anyone in a long time – except maybe whoever he had first thought of when his heart sank into his chest.
Miho watched him walk away before turning back to the street, scanning the crowd.
It was Sunday – after Church, so there was a large crowd.
Unfortunately, most of them weren't Miho's market. She had a very specific market.
Heartless people like Marik were easy to spot among the faithful couples – hunched shoulders, stiff statures, unfocused gazes, sharp looks, jerky movements.
Of course, there were exceptions, but Miho could generally pick the heartless out from the crowd.
The boy with his parents – four or five, maybe – was definitely a part of the majority with a heart.
But – there. The man walking along the path, hands in his pockets.
A leather jacket covered his hoodie, though the hood was pulled over his head, and his combat boots were heavy amidst the shiny leather shoes and black patent heels of the faithful.
"Sir!" Miho called, running up to him. He paused and raised his crimson gaze to meet hers. "Would you like to buy a heart?"
The man forced a polite smile. "Do you happen to repair broken hearts?"
Miho frowned. "No, I'm sorry. I only sell hearts."
He sighed, his smile melting. "I see."
Miho chewed her lip. "If you go down that road though, you'll find the Heartsmith." She pointed to the alley behind them – barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast.
The man's gaze wavered to where she was pointing. "Heartsmith..." He glanced back at her. "Thank you."
She smiled. "You're welcome."
-DISPOSABLEVILLAIN-
The shop was the widest in the alley, but even that wasn't saying much.
The doors seemed to be made of a cheap, faux-wood, and the windows were large but thin.
A brass sign hung above the door, 'Heartsmith' engraved on it, but if he hadn't been going there for a reason, Yami would have easily missed it.
He knocked on the door. After a minute, when there was no response, he pushed it open and walked inside.
A man with a braid of long, white hair was stooped over a table inside. Yami could see the glow of a heart around him.
Despite the neat but cheap exterior, the interior was chaotic. The workbench was cluttered with equipment, and larger pieces were shoved against the wall.
Half a pizza lay on a coffee table with an empty glass, and a diorama of sorts was on another workbench.
"Um... Excuse me?"
"Hm?" The man turned. For a moment, Yami genuinely thought he was looking at an albino. But then the man smiled and lifted his red-glassed goggles, revealing a pair of doe-brown eyes. "Oh, a customer." He walked over to him, giving Yami full view of his tatty jacket, t-shirt and jeans. But, no matter how old, they were clean. "Welcome, sir. What can I do for you?"
Yami hesitated. Then he found himself returning the smile. "A girl in the market told me that you repair hearts?"
The man hummed and nodded. "Yes, I do." His smile grew and he offered his hand. "I'm the Heartsmith; Ryou Bakura. Pleased to meet you."
Yami took his hand and shook it. "The pleasure's mine."
Ryou raised an eyebrow when Yami pulled his hand away again. "What's the problem?"
Yami sighed and held a hand over his chest. After a moment, it began glowing and a heart emerged – cracked right down the middle, both parts barely connected.
Ryou frowned and leaned closer. "That's pretty badly damaged," he mumbled.
"So you can't repair it?" Yami guessed.
Ryou looked up at him. "I never said that. It just might take a while."
Yami looked away. "That might be a problem."
"Why?" Ryou tilted his head. "Are you planning on getting married?"
Yami's cheeks heated up. "Yes, actually." He sighed. "But with my heart broken this badly... I can't love her. And it isn't fair for her to be in a marriage with someone who can't give her what she deserves."
"I see." Ryou closed his eyes for a moment. Then his smile returned. "I suggest you leave it here for a while. I can't make any promises, but I'll do my best."
Yami couldn't help but return the smile. "Thank you." He passed the heart to Ryou. "Take care of it."
"Of course." Ryou nodded. "I don't know when it'll be ready though. Just drop by whenever it's convenient for you."
"I will."
-DISPOSABLEVILLAIN-
When Yami pushed open the door, Ryou was in the exact same position as he was the day before – stooped over his workbench, repairing a heart.
From the feeble glow, Yami assumed it was his own.
Ryou looked up when he heard the door click closed, and before Yami could see the heart, he pulled a cloth over it. "Back so soon?"
Yami shrugged. "Sorry to bother you again." He held up a white box tied with string. "I brought some creampuffs."
Ryou's eyes lit up and he pulled out a chair at the coffee table. "Take a seat." Yami obliged and Ryou darted over to a counter, boiling a kettle of water. "None of my customers brought me creampuffs before."
Again, Yami shrugged. "It was the least I could do."
A few minutes later, Ryou returned with two mugs of tea, a jug of milk, and a bowl of sugar.
He passed a mug to Yami and ignored the milk and sugar. Yami poured a bit of milk into his mug, and piled sugar in as Ryou sat across from him.
His hand dipped into the box and drew out one of the pastries. He took a small bite, his tongue flicking out to catch the custard on his lip. "These are gorgeous," he groaned. "I love creampuffs."
Yami smiled and took one for himself. "Me too. My mother used to make them for my birthdays."
Ryou finished off the first pastry and took another. "My dad tried, but he was never very good at baking." He took a bite. "God, where did you get these? They're delicious!"
Yami took a sip of his tea. "I made them."
Ryou looked up at him. "Please tell me you work in a bakery or restaurant of some sorts."
Yami shook his head. "I'm an accountant. It's a steady job."
Ryou shook his head. "These are so good though," he mumbled, finishing the second. He looked at the box, but didn't take another. "Why not open your own bakery?"
Yami looked down. "I don't have the money, and my fiancé wants me to keep a steady job." She was right, in fairness to her. He needed a steady job – especially if they were going to have the two girls and one boy that they were planning for.
He didn't really care about what gender they were, but she wanted two daughters and one son, specifically.
Ryou hummed. "Well none of my customers have ever brought me my favourite desert before."
"As I said-" Yami smiled. "-it was the least I could do for someone who's fixing my heart."
Ryou's hand stilled on its way to grab another. "About that..."
Yami raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"
"Well..." Ryou rubbed the back of his head. "Some of the vital parts required for the 'love' function are missing."
"I see... So I won't be able to love my fiancé?" When Ryou didn't reply, Yami looked down. "She deserves better."
For a moment, Ryou watched him. His nails dug into the side of his arm. "I'll fix it," he assured him. "There's still something I can try."
Yami's gaze shot back to him and he reached out, taking Ryou's hand. "Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me."
Ryou's cheeks burned. "Don't mention it. I'm happy to help." He looked at his workbench. "Come back tomorrow and I'll have it done for you."
Yami nodded and stood up. "Thank you again. I'll see you tomorrow!"
Ryou watched him leave silently. When the door clicked shut, his hand hovered over his chest.
A glowing, red-gold heart faded into view, and Ryou's gaze flickered down to it. "I hope this will be enough."
-DISPOSABLEVILLAIN-
"Ryou?" Yami called as he stepped into the shop.
He wasn't stooped over the bench anymore.
After a few minutes of hesitantly looking over the shop, Yami found him splayed in a couch behind the bench, a blanket draped over him.
Yami hesitated before reaching out and touching his shoulder. "Ryou?"
His eyes shot open and he yawned. "Y-Yami?" Yami stepped back as he sat up, rubbing one eye. "What time is it?"
"Noon."
Ryou ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Sorry, I was up late last night working." He groaned as he stood up. "I finished working on your heart."
Yami bit his lip. "And?"
A small smile graced Ryou's lips. He opened a drawer in the workbench and took out a box. He offered it to Yami.
Yami hesitated before opening it. His heart hovered inside, thin scars where cracks had been previously, but nothing more.
"You fixed it," he breathed as he picked it up.
"Of course." Ryou smiled. "I said I would, didn't I?"
Yami nodded, held the heart to his chest and closed his eyes as it disappeared. When he looked at Ryou again, his crimson eyes were bright. "It's amazing," he whispered, bringing a hand up to his chest.
"Do you feel a difference?" Ryou seemed nervous.
Yami nodded. "Yes. I'm sure my fiancé will be happy."
Ryou's smile faded. "Oh... I'm sure she will."
Yami took his hand. "Will I see you at my wedding?"
Ryou looked away. "Of course. I'll be there."
Moments later, Yami was gone.
Ryou sighed and slumped into his chair, head in his hands. A slow tear trickled from his eye and he wiped it away.
He never heard the door open again.
"Ryou..." He looked up. Miho pulled down her hood. "You gave him part of your heart didn't you?" Ryou looked away. "Why would you do it after last time?"
"Look who's talking," Ryou muttered. "You sell hearts but don't have one of your own."
Miho sighed. "You know that's because none of these fit me."
Ryou bit his lip. "No donor?" Miho shook her head. "I have a heart. It was never collected from one of the customers. I don't think they lasted long enough." He walked over to the drawers and picked out a box. "Try it. It might fit." He passed her the box.
Miho hesitated before flipping it open and holding the heart to her chest. For a moment, nothing. Then, it disappeared.
Her eyes lit up. "It fits..." She dropped the box and screamed, jumping up and down. "It fits! It fits!" Ryou smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Ryou, it fi-" She turned to see him stagger into the workbench and collapse. "Ryou!"
He looked up as she rushed over to him. "It fits?"
Miho's eyes were wide. "It was yours..." Her voice shook. "No!" Her hands fumbled as they went to her chest but the heart didn't appear. "No, no, no! I don't want it! Not if it means you'll die!"
Ryou reached up and took her hand, stopping her from trying again. "Miho..." He shook his head. "Don't."
"B-But-" She swallowed hard. "No! You can't- can't die! You can't..."
Ryou smiled again and reached up, wiping a tear away as it dripped down her cheek. "Take care," he mumbled. His hand fell.
Miho caught it before it hit the ground, wailing. "You bastard! No!" She sobbed, squeezing his hand. He still smiled up at her, though his eyes were blank. She buried her head in his chest. No heartbeat. "You promised you wouldn't leave me... You promised..."
-DISPOSABLEVILLAIN-
Miho looked up from her sketchbook when the doctor walked in.
"Good evening, Miho."
"Hi..." Miho continued her drawing of Ryou working on fixing a heart.
"How are you feeling?"
"A bit better."
The doctor scribbled something into his notebook. "We're lucky you found a donor in time. Even with that, we're lucky you didn't have to go through a severe surgery. You shouldn't have put it in yourself."
"I know. Sorry." She closed her eyes. "I was caught up in the moment. I thought... I thought the Heartsmith had given me a different one."
The doctor frowned. "Who?"
Miho shook her head. "It's okay. Most people don't remember him."
The doctor hesitated before nodding. "Alright then. You have a visitor."
"You can send them in."
The doctor nodded and left the room. A few minutes later, a very familiar face walked in. Tri-coloured hair, crimson eyes. But the eyes were bright now. "Hi, again."
Miho frowned and closed her notebook. "Hi... Yami, right?" Yami nodded. "What are you doing here?"
Yami cleared his throat and set a small bouquet of flowers by her bed. "I wanted to thank you. Ryou... The Heartsmith fixed my heart."
Miho pressed her lips into a smile. "I told you he would."
Yami nodded. "Do you know where he is?" He asked after a moment. "I wanted to thank him so I went back to bring him creampuffs, but the shop was closed."
Miho peered up at him. He didn't know. Gods, he didn't know.
"He's... gone."
Yami tilted his head. "Where to?"
Miho sighed. "The Domino cemetery."
-DISPOSABLEVILLAIN-
Yami stood on the doorstep for a solid minute before walking into the apartment.
Anzu looked up as he walked in. "Yami, you're soaked!" She grabbed a towel from the radiator and rushed over to him. "What happened? Where have you been?"
Yami hesitated and took the towel, covering his head. "The graveyard."
Anzu frowned. "Why?"
"I wanted to visit someone."
Anzu put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." Yami gave her a small smile. The love he had felt rushing through him when his heart was fixed was gone again – but he hadn't felt it around Anzu the day before either. Or the day before. Or even the day it was fixed.
Only with Ryou.
"If you're sure." Anzu pursed her lips. "Go change into some dry clothes. Dinner will be ready soon."
Yami nodded and walked to their bedroom. He stripped out of the wet leather and exchanged it for a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt.
He sat on the edge of the bed, towel still draped around his shoulders.
The grave was still fresh – naturally. It had only been a week, he supposed. But still.
No flowers.
He didn't blame Miho – she had been in hospital. But no one else had bothered. Yami's seven yellow roses were the only thing decorating the grave bar a simple granite headrest.
Ryou Bakura, Heartsmith.
Three words. Not even a birth or death date. Not a rest in peace or quote.
Nothing.
Yami closed his eyes. His hand hovered over his chest, and his heart faded into view.
He stared at it until his vision blurred. Hot tears dripped down his cheeks, slowly dropping onto the heart. He sniffed and wiped his eyes.
When he looked down again, there was a chip. At the very top.
Moments later, the chip had grown to a tear, cracks ripping through the glow.
He stared at it. The glow had changed. It wasn't just red anymore. Gold filtered through it, on the inside. The very centre of the heart.
All of Ryou's hard work, all of the time, all of the effort. The parts of himself he placed inside – no one but Ryou would have that gorgeous golden glow to their heart.
No one that Yami had ever met, anyway.
Wasted.
"Yami!" Anzu called from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!" Yami didn't reply. "Yami!"
Yami took a slow breath and watched as his heart faded into his chest again. He stumbled to his feet, his fingers shaking. He dried his tears on the shoulder of his t-shirt.
"Yami!"
He sniffed and took one more deep breath before leaving the bedroom. "Coming, love."
-DISPOSABLEVILLAIN-
DV: Well it's not my usual writing style but I hope you enjoyed! :D Thanks so much to for being an awesome beta reader as usual and putting up with my ramblings as I worked this out. Honestly, she's probably the reason I don't try to kill everyone with feels. Please vote and review! See you next time, Killer Queens!
