Warnings: Slight violence. Shounen-ai.

Sugar On The Asphalt

Sleeping Beauty (Age 13)

I was never one for fairy tales. When I was younger, I'd hear them from other hopeful orphans, but Seto was never one for pretend. I never grew up with the tooth fairy or Santa Claus, because Seto found no point in teaching me lies. Gozaburo taught me that the monsters in the closet were real. But fairy tales with happy endings? Never.

Only for a small portion of my life did I sit and wonder where the dragon to slay was, or where my strong prince would come from, or where the frog I was meant to kiss would be. I learned quickly that no one defeated the Blue Eyes, and that Seto would always protect me. As for the frog, I'm still trying to see what you could possibly do to make anything close to royalty.

I'm not sure what happened at Duelist Kingdom, but it felt like I had been sleeping forever. When I woke up, I was on the floor of the balcony, with a silver-haired beauty at my side, one warm hand supporting my back, saving my head from the cold, hard tile. He was crouched down, leaning over me in concern, so close I could feel his breath on my lips.

"Guys! Mokuba's awake!" he called out.

Hello, Prince Charming.

Betrayal (Age 8?)

Niisama actually wanted to hurt me. The only source of comfort and protection in my life was intending to hurt me.

Of course, I blamed myself. The first thing I asked was what I could have done to make him accuse me of such a terrible deed. It really hurt that he thought that I would betray him. Our bond was the most important thing to me, and for him to so adamantly believe that I had betrayed him made me wonder what I had given him as reason to assume something so terrible.

Then the fact that he was so upset that he would hit me, slam me against the door and throw me on the floor. What had I done, to make him think I was deserving of this?

At first I was mad, and I went to Gozaburo, but then I realized I was between two evils. I chastised myself at even considering Niisama "evil." Of course I gave him my two percent. I had to redeem myself. I was sorry. So sorry.

I even felt guilty when Niisama apologized.

Fine (Age 13)

I absolutely loved the Ishtar household. In size, it was nothing compared to Kaiba mansion, but I loved the decorations. My impression was that Ishizu had designed it, as I could never imagine Malik or Rishid as being the artistic type. The walls were painted a dark red, with various gold-framed pictures and glass-encased artifacts hanging on them. Afghan carpets lay on each floor, with golden centerpieces on the tables and hookahs galore. Very Egyptian. I think that's why I liked it so much; it was exotic and interesting.

Perhaps that's what drew Seto to Ishizu. Her identity was something he could never touch. Of course, he was never a romantic, but they did end up working on a project together. Strictly business, he told me. Somewhere I knew that deep inside he was attracted to her, but I never pushed it.

Sitting on the couch across from Ishizu, I observed her intently as she spoke to Seto. She was graceful, and I think that's what made her so lovely. She carried herself with composure, accepting her femininity without being slutty, and spoke with conviction. Sure, Anzu was pretty, Shizuka was cute, Mai was sexy, but Ishizu was enchanting. I hoped that one day I would grow to be like her.

"This discussion must not be very entertaining for you, Mokuba," laughed Ishizu softly. "Perhaps Malik would be more entertaining? He just discovered the phenomenon known as video games, and I'm sure he would enjoy sharing his newfound obsession with you."

I looked up at Seto, and upon noticing just how well he also carried himself, I felt a bit out of place. He nodded, and there was a silent agreement that if Malik tried anything he would be dead. I jumped off the couch (very graceful, huh?) and made my way to Malik's room. The door was more than ajar, so I opened it, intending just to wait at the door before asking permission.

Clearly, Malik had also discovered the phenomenon known as making out. More specifically, making out with Ryou Bakura on the edge of the bed. I felt myself grow uncomfortable and took a step back, hoping I hadn't been noticed.

"Heya, Mokuba!"

Malik had broken away from Ryou, and waved to me like nothing had happened. Ryou, on the other hand was doing a wonderful impression of a tomato. He elbowed Malik. "I told you to lock the door, look, we've scarred an innocent child!"

"I'm not a child!" I protested. The two most attractive guys were sitting in front of me and they thought I was a child!

"You're half my height, kiddo," joked Malik. "What's up?"

"First of all I'm not kiddo," I snapped. "And Ishizu is discussing business with Niisama. She said you had video games, but you seemed kind of busy… It's okay I'll leave." I turned to go.

"Nah, Moke, it's cool!" Malik encouraged me to enter his room. Not wanting to be rude, I did, hoping they wouldn't make out while I was in the room.

"Well, he HAD a video game system," pointed out Ryou.

"Hey!" shouted Malik, glaring at Ryou. "How was I supposed to know not to wash it in the bathtub?"

I giggled at this. Sometimes I forgot he had been raised in a tomb. Now that I thought about it, that was freaky. Malik patted the edge of the bed and I hesitantly sat next to him. "I know how boring business discussions are, we might as well entertain you."

Clearly, they had an interesting idea of what entertainment was. "What are we going to do?"

"Whatever you want," shrugged Ryou, smiling. He always smiled. I think that's what got me attracted to him.

"I know! Let's play one of those ridiculous games that Honda and Jonouchi play!" shouted Malik. "Like truth or dare?"

"No," said Ryou flatly. "Your dares always involve me doing something morbid, and your questions wouldn't be appropriate with a lady in the room."

"I can take it!" I protested. "I grew up with Seto-niisama!"

They burst out laughing at this, which I couldn't understand. I frowned.

"I'm just trying to protect your innocence," laughed Ryou. "We can just talk."

It turned more into a conversation between the two boys, while I tried to listen. Eventually I got tired, and let the upper half of my body fall against the bed, and I fell asleep. It wasn't a deep sleep, and the whole time I could still hear Malik's cheery voice and Ryou's adorable accent.

Malik gently nudged me awake when Niisama was ready to leave. Seto looked a bit upset, and I assumed he had gotten into another argument with Ishizu. Like a married couple, I swear.

"Wait up!" I ran and caught up to him. He was fuming. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," he hissed. He always told me that. Someone could have cut off his arms and he would tell me that. It had to be the biggest lie ever created, one he used far too often.

If he was fine, that wouldn't have been the last day I got to see the inside of the Ishtar's house.

Observations (Age 16)

Niisama is sharp angles and straight lines. The way he walks is stiff, robotic, even his glances are mechanical. The edge of his mouth upturns when he smirks, breaking what could be infinite. He's wiry and spiderlike, but the trenchoats make up for it, dominant and demanding, like his personality. He says so much in so few words.

I'm warm and overflowing, loud and conflicted. I walk pragmatically, not rolling my hips like a woman should. I run down the sidewalks when I am late, oh-so-ungraciously, with an unbalanced thump if I'm carrying Niisama's briefcase. It bangs my hip with every stride, despite my efforts to keep it away. When I smirk, I'm all teeth, when I laugh, my eyes shut and my mouth opens without restraint.

Ryou is soft and detailed and misleading. His movements are gentle and his smile is accepting. When he laughs, it's almost inaudible. He never smirks, and he never, ever cries. He fights his way out of a corner without making a scene. He hates himself sometimes, I know, but he can't hate anyone else. He accepts people as they are, accepts me as I am, even on my worst day, and when he smiles, I see in color.

Sugar on the Asphalt (Age 16)

It was Friday, and I was headed out to the café again for lunch, alone again, because two of the girls at my lunch table were fighting and I didn't want to be involved in the conflict. I was looking forward to seeing Ryou; his smile always made me feel better and less stressed. I wasn't even paying attention when I entered the café, and just took a coffee and some sushi, clicking away at my laptop, subconsciously asking myself if I was turning in to Niisama.

I finished my assignment, and forced myself to take a break, something Niisama never did, closed my laptop and walked outside. There, out on the sidewalk, Ryou sat with a magnifying glass, looking at the ground. A bit confused, I sat down next to him. "Hey."

"Oh, hello!" He smiled and looked at me, blushing slightly.

"What are you doing?"

"Smoke break."

"You smoke?"

He held up the magnifying glass. "Smoking sugar." I noticed that at his feet, on the asphalt, was a thin sheet of sugar. "My coworkers got into an argument about whether caramel was made by melting sugar, and I had the urge to find out for myself."

I laughed. So cute and impulsive, so unlike Niisama.

"And?"

"Still working at it."

"Mind if I try?"

He passed me the magnifying glass, and I held it over the sugar, a bit nervous at the fact that I was so close to him, and that he was even more beautiful up close. I don't know if it was because of slight anxiety (because Mokuba Kaiba never, ever, gets anxious) or lack of sleep, but my hand was shaking a little bit.

"You have to concentrate or it won't work." He held my wrist with his hand, steadying my forearm against his. I could feel a blush creeping over my cheeks, though out of the corner of my eye, he was perfectly calm, and I began to wonder just how one-sided this crush was. "KaibaCorp going well?" he asked.

"Niisama's super busy," I sighed. "I wanted him to take me to the new museum exhibit that Ishizu is holding, but he won't. He hates museums, especially Egyptian exhibits. It's like this strange phobia of his."

He nodded. "I heard about it, I was hoping to go at some point." He sighed. "I don't want to go alone, I don't think I could handle it. Would you like to come with me this weekend?"

My heart stopped, and I choked on my saliva. "Wha- what?"

He looked taken aback by my face. "Does it sound that ridiculous?"

"No!" I attempted to regain my voice and brain. "I mean, I want to, but I don't think it would be good for me."

"Hm? I won't kidnap you, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, it's…" I turned even redder.

"Mokuba, did I do something to offend you?"

"No, no," I shook my head. I had to tell him. It had been eating at me for months and I had to get it out. "I… I like you." There. I had said it. Shameless. Mokuba Kaiba was shameless. "And it wouldn't do me any good to go and lead myself on, when you're with Malik." I stood up hastily. "I'm sorry, I… I'll leave now." I turned to leave, but he gently gripped my forearm.

"Stop."

"Why?"

He took a deep breath. "Malik and I… ended a long time ago." Another breath. "And I enjoy seeing you when you come here on Fridays." A third. "And it's nice that you had the guts to say you like me."

I was pretty certain that if I had a brain at some point, it wasn't functioning. Or turning into mush. Something like that. I wasn't too embarrassed, Mokuba Kaiba was rarely embarrassed (I kept trying to remember that) but my heart was out of control and I was going to start hyperventilating from emotional overload.

"Just tell me if the feeling is reciprocated," I managed to say in the most Kaiba-like of tones.

"I… I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not sure enough to say yes, but… not sure there isn't anything there to say no."

"Oh."

"But I still extend my offer." He looked at me intently. "Would you like to see the Egyptian exhibit with me on Sunday at the grand opening?"

"Like… a date?" I managed to ask, nerves on fire, my head screaming OHGODOHGODOHGOD!

He blushed and nodded. "Why not? At least I'll figure things out."

I swallowed. "Then yes, I would really like that."

All of a sudden, the door to the coffee shop opened and a very flustered Hiroto Honda stormed out. "Bakura! You've been out here for 15, can you come back in and help me? The line's getting insane! Oh, hello, Mokuba."

"Hey."

Ryou stood up and brushed off his clothes. "Pick you up at six?"

I nodded. Ryou and Honda walked inside, and I saw Honda punching Ryou on the shoulder, laughing, pointing a thumb in my direction, while Ryou blushed slightly.

I don't remember what happened at school for the rest of the day, but I couldn't concentrate. Apparently Ryou couldn't either, because on my way back home I passed the coffee shop and saw a discarded magnifying glass, and a thin, unburned layer of sugar on the asphalt.

A/N: These are some of the original drabbles, from the original "Sugar On The Asphalt" project. They will appear out of order, but will still be connected. Also, Ryou is psychotic. This will show later.

Thank you to my faithful reviewers!