Sleeping was somewhat of a luxury for me; having to just sleep in a bed, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by pillows. If I could do this for the rest of my life, I would honestly be happy. What surprised me was that Ryo went into my bedroom again, saying something about how I didn't finish the laundry, and instead dumped the clean clothes on the guest room bed. I vaguely remember throwing a blue pillow at him, waving my hand and mumbling a good 'meehhhhh' before I once again left for the lovely place of dreamland.
Yet today I was again denied a sleep in.
What stirred me out of my bed was the sound of the door bell. I lay there, in bed, in my half asleep/half awake state. My eyes were closed and myself wrapped around two pillows; one between my legs the other I held tightly to my chest. I pretended to not hear it, slowly drifting off.
Ring.
I groaned, nuzzling into my pillow, hoping that it had magical powers to rid me of whoever was ringing my damn doorbell.
Ring.
I sit up in bed slowly, the pillow still held close to my chest as I glare at the closed door of my bedroom. How dare they? Let them burn in hell.
Ring.
Fucker. I tried to get myself out of bed but instead tangle my legs in the sheets. I cursed, kicking them pathetically away until finally, I was out of bed on wobbly feet. My hand came up to rub the back of my head as I walked out the door, accidentally slamming it against my bedroom wall. The cat we had adopted sees me, and gives me a meow of a greeting as I passed her on my way to the stairs. As quickly as I could while still being tired, I make my way down, the feel of sleep now leaving me cranky and wanting to murder something, anything. Was that the same thing?
.
I swung open the front door, coming face to face with the tri-coloured, spiked hair bane of my existence! He stood there, looking at me with a stoic expression as his finger continued to ring the doorbell. After a torturous few seconds of hearing him ring the bloody bell, he squeezed himself inside the house, leaving me staring out my front door in a 'what the fuck?' moment of my life.
I think I'm going to have to take back my supposed friendship with the ex-pharaoh.
"Well, you look like you've been attacked by a bear or something, Bakura," he said, removing his leather boots before stepping onto the wood floors of our house. Turning to glare at him, he looked at me in the most innocent way possible. That little -
"Before you start attacking me with profanity at my mother and how supposedly gay I am, I'm here to teach you… how to fold laundry," he said as he gave me a wicked smile, his dark violet eyes sparkling with mischief.
Kill me… please.
—
"You really don't know how to fold these?"
"Do you think I would really do idiotic stuff like this?" I hissed out as he poked around the clothing in the guest room.
Instead of wearing my PJ's, which really was a large shirt and my boxers, I happily changed into some light blue jeans that probably had seen better days. They were ripped at the knees and because they were much too long, the bottom of the legs' pants were to the point that some of it just started to tear out in strings. I even now wore a striped red and black t-shirt with some logo of a skull wrapped around by a snake. At least the pants wasn't that bad compared to some, as I noticed the worn out jeans.
Yami wore nothing strange from what he casually wore when he wasn't working; which was his usual interesting bits of tight clothing. The leather pants, the black armbands, and even the flipping tight t-shirt. But don't forget about the many bracelets he collected through the years though, as he even had a fucking collar around his neck with a bell on it.
"You know Bakura… folding clothes isn't that hard." The ex-pharaoh looked at me over his shoulder.
I mumbled under my breath. I wished he would roll over and die sometimes.
After a bit of spitting back and forth, I was forced to drag my laundry to my room. The prick didn't even help me with that, no. Instead, he watched me and ordered me around as he went busy himself in the kitchen. Whatever he was doing, I didn't like it. The fact that he was helping me with folding my damn laundry wasn't satisfactory either. I was going to lock my hikari away in the closet and hold him for ransom.
"I never knew you were the type to actually wear such… interesting undergarments," he said in amazement.
"…Shut up," I said heatedly. He chuckled, placing the garment in the pile I carried in my hands. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, damn him.
—
One day… I'll only buy one certain pair of socks, that all look the same so I wouldn't have this problem. I looked at the white socks, fuming. There they were, innocently lined in rows on my bed, just waiting to find their partner and be put in my drawer. But there was a dilemma in their plan... or well, my plan as I couldn't tell which one went where. I never knew that socks came in different types of lengths, some being higher than your ankle, some just below your ankle, and some just right there at your ankle.
Why did I have so many?
"Need help?"
I visibly jumped, whipping around to growl at the male in warning. He ignored me yet again, with his eyes only on the socks.
"Like I need your help!"
"Ah, but I think you do… I never did like folding socks either," Yami admitted truthfully. Scooting beside me, he grabbed at the socks and began to find their other half. Huffing in annoyance, I did the same. The whole process was… strangely quiet in a calm sort of way. We said nothing but continued to find the socks' other half, and soon we were done, left only with socks that we couldn't find their partners. How sad.
"I guess you can put these in a bag or something till you can find the other ones… or if you want, you could always wear a different sock on each foot," Yami smiled while I could only tiredly glare at him.
If dreams did come true, then why was the pharaoh still in my house? And not under some rock?
—
I ate my bento box meal in silence. The pharaoh went all out in making me some food in my kitchen. Salmon rolls graced my light blue bento box with a small cup of soy sauce, tempura and even a couple sausages in a shape of octopuses. What was I, a kid? But I wasn't going to complain about it much; it was good and he did make more than just that what was in my box. Mmm…sushi.
I spare a glance at him as he eats his beef bowl. I had finally finished the laundry and my reward was him making me sushi and a few other foods to eat later tonight. He also even made a meal for Ryo, which I would be taking a few things from, thank you very much.
In all my years, the thought had never crossed my mind that the pompous pharaoh, who saved the world, who I had tried to destroy many times, and was the hero in the story, was a cook. A very good cook. Who worked in a cafe and lived a rather normal life in this present day and age. How he adjusted to life like this amazed me and made me jealous. Using my chop sticks, I picked up another salmon roll and placed it in my mouth. There was no need to be jealous of this ass!
The sound of him placing his bowl down on the table broke me out of my thoughts. He placed the chopsticks over the bowl neatly, and wiped his mouth clean with a napkin. Those violet eyes then looked at me with very solemn eyes.
"What are you going to do, Bakura?"
"With what?" I asked, acting stupid. I reached over to take a tempura from the flat plate and dipped it into the sauce that it was made for. Yami stared hard at me as I feel the pulse in my neck accelerate but I ignored it. Keep calm.
"With your life? With everything… you haven't exactly adjusted to life here," he explained.
"I don't know…"
"You never seem to know. You just sit here in Ryo's place playing games… you don't even steal anymore or cause any trouble," Yami frowned, "Not that I mind the absence of it, but it's still very unlike you. Even if we participated in causing a bit of trouble with the gang… you still don't do much else. And now all you do is stay cooped up in the house."
I huffed, placing my box down.
"And you know I'm not exactly mentally alright."
A sigh breathed out from his lips.
"You also know that I want to help."
"I still think you're a tad bit late."
"But it's never too late."
Never too late... the words rang out like a bell in my head as I felt the burning sensation behind my eyes. That feeling... but I bit the inside of my cheek and kept it down. Fuck the weakness.
"Maybe it is and you just don't see it," I said weakly.
Pathetic.
He looked at me with a helpless look before he reached over, and ruffled my hair.
"You really are stubborn," he said with such a melancholy tone.
"I know…" I picked up my bento and began eating again.
I was stubborn. I didn't need anybody's help, no matter how much I wanted to kick my stupid pride away and scream, punch, and wail out. But help was for the weak. I had lived out my life alone as it had been filled with violence, death, and vengeance. Yet now… now it was something I wasn't used to and I was afraid of this new change.
This peace. This… point in my life where I was back in some new age. I was forgiven, I was someone without magical abilities. Without my vengeance.
And that…
Terrified me.
