Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh.
Author's Note: Another Christmas present fic. R&R.
They met on the rooftop every day during lunch block, both seeking to escape from the mindless chatter of their friends and classmates. She wasn't surprised that he sought solitude and silence, but her inclusion seemed a little out of place. At least, it did to the others, despite their determination to push her away; he was the only one who understood.
The loss of the Pharaoh had changed everybody, Yuugi being hit the hardest. Anzu had tried to be there to console him, but her mind was still on his other, and he knew it. All he wanted was for her to look at him and see him, not the Pharaoh, not anyone else, but Mutou Yuugi. She tried, she truly did, but she couldn't push his other from her mind; her heart had been given away long before the Items were buried, and she simply didn't have enough left over to offer him.
And so she had slowly distanced herself from the group, feeling more than a little guilty at her inability to provide Yuugi with what he needed. The others always seemed to look at her with a little suspicion, their gazes accusing. "It's because of you that Yuugi is failing out of school," they seemed to say. "It's because of you that he is fading." And so Anzu herself began to fade away.
She didn't remember when she had first noticed the boy lounging up on the roof of the school, but she'd felt startled, almost as if she had forgotten his existence entirely; she'd fled up there to be alone, away from everyone and everything, and was under the impression that no one else ventured up there. They had barely spoken at first, but little by little, words were exchanged, and then they stopped sitting on entirely opposite sides of the roof, and then they were sharing lunches and stories and laughter.
She told him all of her worries, all of her school concerns and her problems with her old friends, and he listened quietly and attentively, never interrupting, never telling her she was being silly. He never shared as much with her, but she didn't mind, and he didn't seem to. He came to her dance practices and recitals, spoke to her before and after every show, and supported her in her dreams more than anyone else ever had. They grew closer every day, until she felt as if he had always been a part of her life, and even a part of her family.
Anzu dreaded going home every day. Her parents were bickering, on the verge of splitting up, and she was grateful that the loud, heated words never turned into anything more physical than shattered china. She told him all about that, too, and found herself going back to his apartment after school more often than her own house, fixing dinner with him and watching television and studying together. The closer they grew, the more content she felt with her life, and the less it hurt her to see the looks on her old friend's faces.
Today, however, he wasn't on the roof. She looked around, blue eyes wide with surprise, before her gaze fell on a little note tacked onto the railing. Sighing softly, feeling more alone than usual, she walked over to the railing and picked up the note. It had her name scribbled on it in a rather messy, obviously masculine handwriting. Breeze shifting through her hair, she opened it up and read it.
With a sigh she folded up the note, slowly sinking down onto the cold concrete. He would be out all day, but he had a surprise for her, and wanted her to stop by his apartment after classes were done for the day. She felt rather curious as to what the surprise was, and her pulse fluttered erratically as ideas flew through her mind. Cheeks turning a soft pink, she shook her head, mentally denying the notions.
"Don't be stupid," she told herself softly as she shivered from the cold and set about eating her lunch.
The day lasted forever. She was squirming in her seat by the time the final bell rung and she all but flew to her locker, stuffing her books in and entirely forgetting that she had a biology lab write-up due the following morning. She hadn't had any sort of surprise to look forward to in a long time, and the spring in her step was evident to everyone. Her old friends were hanging out down the hallway, staring at her and talking quietly, but even that didn't dampen her excitement.
Breathlessly, she buttoned up her coat and almost skipped out of the school.
She did get distracted a few times along the way – once by a gourmet chocolate store holding a sale, so she picked up some baking supplies and snacks; another time, her favorite dance supply store was holding a sale, so she bought a spare pair of slippers – but she eventually made it to his apartment. Eyes bright and breath a little unsteady from her quick pace, she paused to stretch and relax a little before entering the building.
Shifting her purse to her other shoulder, she waited patiently for the elevator, glancing around curiously to see if there were any new announcements on the community corkboard. One of his neighbors was having a Tupperware party – perhaps she would see if she could attend. She always enjoyed those.
A soft chime sounded from the elevator and the doors opened slowly, a few laughing people stumbling out and clutching at each other. She watched them go, bemused, before stepping in, hitting the button for the eighth floor. The doors closed, the elevator jerked briefly, and then she was rising.
She tapped her foot, feeling oddly impatient with the progress of the elevator, even though it was much faster than some. The elevator in Jounouchi's building was broken more often than not, and when it was working, would lurch and sputter and take ten minutes to rise one floor. She really had nothing to complain about – she certainly didn't have elevators in her house, or even that many stairs – but today, her patience just didn't seem to exist.
The doors chimed and opened again, and she stepped out into the cool hallway, taking her immediate right and walking past mirrors and paintings and peeling wallpaper. She stopped in front of his door; her hand rose, preparing to knock, but she found herself hesitating. Frowning and chewing her lower lip thoughtfully, she wondered why something felt so off about this whole thing, but then she shook her head and laughed softly. She was being silly again. She knocked.
He answered a few moments later, dressed in his usual striped shirt and blue jeans – she absently wondered if the boy ever did laundry, or if his entire wardrobe was the same – and he had a peculiar smile on his face. He greeted her and let her in, holding something behind his back. When she tried to peer around him to get a closer look, he laughed and danced away.
"Ah ah ah! It's a surprise, Anzu-chan!" he said admonishingly, his dark eyes lighting up briefly. "You seem awfully eager…"
"It's been on my mind all day," she confided softly, smiling at him. She took off her jacket and hung it up in his coat closet, stuffing her pocketbook and her bags in there as well.
He laughed and locked the door, carefully keeping the object hidden from her sight, and gestured towards his bedroom with his free hand. "Let's go in there, and I will give you your present."
Anzu turned and walked into his bedroom without another thought. She had been in there so many times that his request didn't seem the least bit odd. His bed was unmade, as always, though there was little to no clutter on his floor or his desk. The top drawer of his dresser was open, but other than that and his bedding, everything was sterile and clean. His entire apartment was like that, sparsely furnished and decorated, almost as if he had just moved in or planned on leaving in the near future. She was never able to find so much as a speck of dust, even on his bookshelf. She'd once jokingly asked him to come and clean her house; he hadn't found that amusing.
She sat down on the edge of his bed and watched him walk through the doorway as well, his white hair a little disheveled. It didn't look like he had showered this morning, though his hair was always so messy it was hard to tell. There were dark circles under his eyes, indicating that if he had slept the previous night, it hadn't been for long.
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked, her concern washing away her excitement.
He blinked, seemingly startled at the question. "Yes, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well." Smiling brightly, he moved his hand from behind his back, offering her a wrapped package as he sat beside her. "Here. Open it."
Giggling girlishly, she took the package and tore open the wrapping, not even pausing to admire how perfectly ribbon had been twined around it. The wrapping cleared away, revealing a white box with no markings. Head tilted a little, she opened it up, blinking at what lay inside.
"You are almost her size," he said reverently as she held up a long white wig, turning it back and forth in confusion. "You have the same look in your eyes, the same build. You're a little taller than she was, but it'll do. Go on, there's more."
Feeling uneasy, she buried deeper in the box, tossing aside plain white tissue paper to reveal an outfit. It looked like a school uniform, though it didn't belong to Domino High and she didn't recognize the coloring or pattern.
"Put it on," he said, his dark eyes boring into her.
"I…Bakura-kun, it doesn't look like it'll fit. The top is too small."
His tone grew harsher. "Put it on." Mild tone returned. "I did this just for you."
Flinching a little at his tone, she decided that he had indeed gone through all this trouble for her, and he'd been such a good friend to her these past months. With a soft sigh, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to put on one little outfit, she stood up and stepped towards his closet, keeping her back to him. Placing the box on the floor, she carefully stepped out of her own clothes, cheeks burning as she felt his eyes trailing over her form. Wordlessly, she plucked the unfamiliar uniform out of the bag and squirmed into it.
It fit better than she had expected.
"Good," he breathed. "Now the wig."
She'd often had to wear different wigs for her shows, so she was used to putting them on. It only took her a few moments to tie her own hair out of the way, and suddenly she was a white-haired, blue-eyed beauty in an unknown school's uniform standing in the bedroom of her only friend.
Bakura stood up from the bed and approached her, gently resting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. He smiled as he stared down at her, taking in her appearance, his eyes seeming more alive than they ever had before.
"Amane-san," he murmured as he leaned in, nuzzling lightly at her neck. He gave no explanations or excuses, simply leaving Anzu to wonder who this Amane was and was that who she looked like right now? Had these clothes belonged to this mysterious person he obviously cared about so much? And if so, where was she, and why was he making her do this for him?
Her lips parted, her spirit returning to her as answers failed to appear in her mind. This was just too weird for her – perhaps this little dress-up game would have been okay if he weren't pressed so close, his breath so warm against her skin, making her uncomfortable – but she wasn't entirely sure how to express it. She did not want to offend him and risk losing him, not when she had lost so much already, but she had to say something.
She didn't get a chance to. His lips brushed against hers softly once, twice, the touch the lightest she'd ever felt, before he kissed her. It was gentle and sweet, everything she had always imagined her first kiss would be, except the one giving it was always the Pharaoh in her fantasies, not this quiet, sweet boy. He continued to kiss her, and despite herself, she felt herself responding. One of his hands rose to tangle in her wig, the pale fingers almost lost in the white hair, and he began to nudge her back towards the bed.
"I've missed you so much, Amane-san," he whispered against her lips, and then she was down on the bed and his hands were everywhere and she could not even remember her own name.