Because beauty is only skin-deep. Because he hates what is beautiful. Slight shonen-ai.
Just in case it isn't obvious whose point of view this is, I'll tell you… It's Yami no Bakura doing the narration, of course. Rating for language, violence and shonen-ai implications. By the way, if I'm spelling 'yadonushi' wrong, someone please tell me! I always get confused with this word…
- MM -
Beautiful
I hate this façade. Yadonushi sits here; that dumb smile on his face. He's watching Honda, again, as though he thinks that staring is going to achieve something other than stares in return.
I hate the way they see each other; my weak, oblivious host and that meddling mortal. I feel his heart, the way it races when he's 'blessed' with a smile, a look, a momentary glance. I hate knowing his thoughts, hearing them echo alongside my own. I hear his wishes and desires; I am the only one who knows what he wants; what he needs.
I hear that Ra-damned bell ringing again. Yadonushi startles, he was lost in a daydream. He's blushing now as Honda walks over and smiles sweetly. Damn that kid. He's too conscious of my presence and too 'protective' of Yadonushi for my liking.
I should have killed him back then, when I had my chance. I didn't even have to try really, I just had to let him fall.
It would have been easy. But I didn't. Something tells me I'll have a second chance though, no matter how long I have to wait…
Yadonushi's distracting me now. He's practically falling all over himself. Baka.
"… If it's not too much trouble Honda-kun…" he's brushing his hair from his eyes, I can feel the nervous excitement.
Honda smiles. "No problem. I was heading that way anyway."
They're walking over to his motorcycle. Honda hands a helmet to Yadonushi who's staring at it strangely. Don't tell me he's going to build a shrine next.
Somehow it wouldn't really surprise me.
Honda's giving him a bemused look, and the baka finally pulls on the helmet hurriedly. He's blushing again. And now he's stumbling.
He'd fall flat on his girly face if it weren't for Honda. Bloody hell. I can't stand this anymore.
He hardly protests as I take over his consciousness and his body.
I climb onto the bike and wrap my arms around Honda's waist. I know from experience that modern contraptions like this are full of danger.
"Better hold on tight." Honda raises his voice a little as he kicks the stand and the next thing I know my fingers are digging into him as he takes off around the corner. I vaguely see Anzu and Yuugi staring after us rather bemusedly and I remember to wave. Bakura has a funny way of waving. I release one hand and imitate Yadonushi to the best of my ability.
Honda swerves around another corner as I'm still waving and trying to look Bakura-like. Shit. My grip is coming loose. I madly grab onto him as tight as possible as we round more corners. My knee is almost touching the bitumen of the road. I pull it as close to the bike as possible and tighten my grip further. I don't even have to try to imitate Yadonushi. I swear I must be screaming by now.
I make a mental note not to trust him on a bike. The baka's going to kill me I swear.
What does Bakura see in him? Idiocy? Incompetency?
Finally he stops and I realise where we are. We're outside a small card shop on the other side of town. Bakura usually comes here once a month. Though you'd think he'd rather go to Yuugi's shop, he tends to avoid it and make the long trek here himself.
It's on the more run down side of town, far from the city centre, and I distinctly notice Honda's eyes looking around. He seems to be checking for something.
I guess I either wasn't actually screaming during that ride, or else Honda just thinks it's normal behaviour for his friend.
I shrug off the nauseas feeling of the ride and walk into the shop. I remember this place. The isles still covered in dust are surprisingly familiar and I find myself at the back of the shop before Honda even steps inside.
I wonder what Yadonushi could have come here for though. He hasn't paid that much attention to his cards lately, and it would almost seem as though the last thing he'd want would be to spend more time with-
"Doesn't this place give you the creeps?"
I turn, narrowing my eyes as Honda interrupts my thoughts.
He's too busy ducking a cobweb to notice the expression on my face, and suddenly I'm glad. I smile gently and gesture towards the cards in the glass display case. The glass itself needs a serious wash, but the cards are just the same as any others.
"And what does it have that Jii-san doesn't have?"
Honda talks too much for my liking, but at least when he talks things like "the fate of the world depends on me!" don't fall out. That pharaoh just shits me.
Honda coughs. "I'm gonna wait outside, okay?"
I notice he doesn't wait for an answer… Not that it matters to me.
I grab a few cards, remembering that Bakura's wallet is usually in his back pocket.
Not that I'd have to pay for them…
I mentally chide myself. Just because I'm pretending to be Bakura, doesn't mean I have to adopt his values as well.
Nor do I need to adopt his interests. I almost feel the need to remind myself of that, as I find my attention momentarily distracted by a noise outside. It sounds like Honda's talking to himself.
There's no one behind the counter.
A quick glance tells me that there seem to be no cameras anywhere in the shop. I slip the cards into my back pocket beside the wallet and quickly walk out of the shop.
Maybe I should-
I'm staring before I know it.
Honda's getting up off the concrete sidewalk in front of me. For some reason he's trembling.
I glance up the street to realise why. There are a couple boys running in the opposite direction, their sneakers flashing strangely in the afternoon light.
Honda's on his feet now. He doesn't seem to have noticed me, or if he has, he's pretending he hasn't.
He coughs a little and spits into the gutter, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. A newly acquired bruise marks the skin on his cheek and his hands show bloodied scratches where they've met the ground.
My eyes narrow slightly.
He finally looks at me, seemingly surprised to see me.
"Funny…" his voice almost sounds disappointed. "You're not much help when you're actually needed…"
"What do you mean Honda-kun?" I smile sweetly, hoping he'll buy the fake act. I'm not in the mood for interrogations.
"Drop the act already." His eyes narrow to stare straight at me. "Come on… I'll take you home… Bakura…"
He coughs again, as his face distorts in pain.
And then I see it.
The afternoon light is casting a harsh yellow light across his face. His lips bruised, fingers shakily wrapped around the handles of his bike, and that bruise on his cheekbone. That clear, pale skin marked by a darkening patch where he's bleeding. Bleeding underneath the surface of the skin.
His eyes are dulled a little from the pain, he doesn't seem completely alert, just alert enough to sense my presence, even if it is a little delayed.
The pain, written so plainly on his face, the way he embodies flawed perfection. It's beautiful. And I hate beauty.
"Are you coming?" he growls, annoyed.
I snicker, taking in his appearance for a moment longer. "Not with you…"
"But Bakura's place is across the other side of town!"
He's protesting. I admire his stubbornness for a moment before my lips curl into a snarl. "I'm walking. Got a problem?"
"And I'm driving!" he growls. "Get on the damn bike before you wear Bakura out again."
I see him eyeing the sennen ring. Not a chance.
"Take the lift already."
He's coughing again. I wonder if he broke a rib. I wonder what got him in that fight in the first place. But my patience is wearing thin. I angrily turn to him again and I'm close enough that I can grab him, my fingers wrapping around his neck and holding him. I can feel the blood in his veins; pulsating. Yes, he's very much alive, unlike me.
I lower my voice as we stare eye to eye. Still defiant, he's glaring back at me as my grip tightens. "I told you. I only take what I want… when I want it." I whisper angrily, my breath upon his face.
I see his eyes widen a little and snicker, knowing fully that he knows what trouble he's started.
I dig my nails into his neck a little, before releasing him, and hearing that gasp for air.
I turn, shove my hands in my pockets and resume my walk. I'm walking up the street, following those stupid boys and their flashy sneakers.
I'll teach them not to mess with my newfound possessions.
- MM -
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