Written
for the livejournal community 10
whores.
Kisara x Honda; anime-based; post-series.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!
Flight
Kaiba never openly acknowledged that the girl had anything to do with his Blue Eyes White Dragon, but they all knew that the large house, the filled bank account, the Japanese teacher who spoke ancient languages as fluently as humanly possible, and the official identity that declared her adult – not to mention all the things they probably hadn't heard about – had not materialised out of thin air. Mokuba had indignantly confided them that he had even offered the girl one of his Blue Eyes White Dragon cards, but Jounouchi categorically refused to believe it.
Honda wasn't so sure: he did believe that Kisara would have refused anyway. She wasn't much of a duellist, not for someone whose fate was as deeply intertwined with the game. Yugi had monopolised her attention over the first meetings at the game shop, to show her how to play, as it was something they could do without speaking to each other, until Anzu had exasperatedly come up with the bright idea of first showing her a few more practical things that were part of the modern world. Honda listened to the resulting arguments – Jounouchi believed that playing duel monsters was a major practical part of modern life! – and tried to ignore the symptoms of a developing crush.
Slim chances of success aside, he really didn't wantto date anyone as strongly involved with Seto Kaiba; he already felt sorry for any girl Mokuba'd bring home. It was something he really didn't want to experience himself. There were enough other girls. Really. They weren't as pretty and as determined as Kisara, and didn't have her sweet smile and her bright eyes and her friendliness, and her generosity but...
But he would have gotten over it if it hadn't been for Otogi. Honda, experienced as he was in other areas, had never been very successful with girls, and he hadn't really minded while he hadn't closely known anyone who was. But Otogi, removed from the real world as he was in other areas (an euphemism to indicate that he was rather insane), had a freaking fan-club, and unlike Bakura, he was putting it to use as well (coming from Otogi, this probably meant that he had its members buy expensive hair products for him on a regular basis. As if he didn't have the money).
"For how long are you going to sit around staring at her like a love-stuck puppy?" he had asked after Honda had watched Kisara duel Yugi, Jounouchi and Anzu in what he had thought was a very subtle I'm-just-being-a-good-friend-and-interested-in-the-game way, while Otogi was sitting in a corner, doing nothing but throwing dice in the air, and managing to look Not Awkward At All.
He had denied everything; Otogi was the last person he'd chose as a confidant.
"She's cute. If you don't make a move on her, someone else will," Otogi had answered, smiling nastily.
It had been relieving to drag him outside: their previous fight had been interrupted before it could go anywhere. (Otogi fought dirty, and simple plastic dice could hurt.)
The summer sun was harsh and, provided you didn't have any work to do, wonderful; the smell of overheated tar would forever be engraved in his mind as meaning home. In Kisara's area of Domino, it was now rivalled by strong scents of flowers and freshly cut grass from the many gardens. The street was so quiet that his bike's sound stood out loudly, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
But he had circled the house three times now. It'd be ridiculous if he continued.
He'd only been inside the house once, and had not seen her for a week now; he knew Anzu had spoken with her at least once, and that she was alright. He should have asked her if he could drop by – her insistence they all were always welcome shouldn't be taken too literally.
But now that he was here... He sighed and stopped, leaned the bike against the nearest three, and resolutely walked to the front door. They'd come to pick her up before, but he'd never been there alone. He gulped, resisted the urge to rearrange his hair – he wasn't that far – and rang.
No-one answered. Second ring. Nothing.
He let his shoulders slump down, then turned round, and straightened back up before he started his bike again, more loudly than necessary.
He'd ridden through half of the city to clear his head when he found her, in the town's centre, leaning against a street lamp and looking pretty lost.
At first, they had all been rather worried about her walking around alone even though Domino wasn't as full of maniacs as it used to be; that was until they found out that the shady women they had seen following her were bodyguards sent by Kaiba.
That had cleared up most of these fears; but, while overall, Kisara had adapted to the modern world quite impressively, in his opinion, no matter how inclined his love-induced mind was to idealise her, Honda could not pretend that she appeared quite ready to wander through the inner city alone. Maybe it was only the effect of being thrown through time and space, but she'd seriously lacked orientation skills. And, unsurprisingly, she didn't like crowds much. Whenever it came up, it made Honda want to travel back in time just to beat up every single person who had thrown stones at her, or even just stood there doing nothing.
He left his bike were it was, with a single fearful look back – he'd recognise the sound if it was stolen, but that wouldn't really be much help – and walked over to her; her eyes were roaming around, not quite panicked, but close.
"Kisara?"
She whirled round when she heard her name.
"Honda!"
She looked delighted to see him, and Honda had to force himself to remember that she smiled at everybody like that. Still, he made out relief in her voice.
"You need to be careful," Otogi had warned, sounding more serious than he had expected him to be able to, on such a subject at least; "You don't want her to fall for you because you're the second person in the world to be nice to her."
Honda thought it was a little exaggerated: if it was like that, Kisara would have fallen madly in love with Yugi already; but it seemed sensible, he supposed, if less encouraging than Otogi's other comments.
"Hi. Er..." He looked back at his bike; not quite how he had wanted to meet her, but as he hadn't expected to see her at all anymore, he shouldn't be too difficult. She didn't seem to mind as he worriedly staggered back to his bike, and simply followed.
"I'm lost," she admitted, with an embarrassed smile.
"Where were you going? I could give you a lift...?" he said carefully.
There. Otogi had pretended that it would work, no matter if the girl was from three thousand years in the past. Actually, he had said, it would work better. She probably didn't know the pick-up method. Honda had thought it sounded rather dishonest, put like that, which might be why he would never have asked her if there wasn't a purely rational reason for offering it.
Kisara gave him a strange, inquisitive look – it made him wonder if she really didn't know the pick-up method – and bit her lips before she approached the engine slowly.
"I have a spar helmet," he offered. He thought about adding that it was safe, but she tended to agree with things to accommodate them, and he didn't want to push.
She nodded.
"Thank you..."
He handed her the helmet, and watched as, after a brief hesitation, she managed to fix it securely.
"Where are you going then?"
"Just home please... I wanted to buy a present for Anzu, but..."
She made a vague gesture. She probably shouldn't have chosen a Saturday afternoon.
Honda's eyes widened at that. Shit...
"Thanks for reminding me..." he murmured guiltily. She smiled, and he grinned back at her.
"All right."
She carefully listened to Honda's instruction; the look in her eyes was determined now, as if she was about to enter a battle. It was surreal, and Honda found he didn't mind.
She nodded at him confidently when he finished, and sat behind him after he'd started the motor.
The engine started with a loud roar; startled for a moment, she hold tighter to his waist, and watched the colours around her blur as they accelerated, wind lifting her hair to a flag. It was much better than flying.
