Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! nor its characters. I also do not profit from this work of fiction.

A/N: Season 0, anyone? (edit: the dream scene was edited to exclude the oral sex)

Summary: Atemu takes matters into his own hands, literally. Yuugi feels as though he is in the dark when it comes to his new friends and he struggles with his newfound feelings.

Warning: Violence, Sensual Scene

Chapter 4: Wrath

Atemu was washing his hands, when a surge of rage wracked through his body. He looked up into the mirror, his normally tame eyes shined a bleeding red. Clenching his fists, he pulled one back and prepared to strike the mirror. But before he could, a thought entered his head, causing him to pause and stare at his reflection. Slowly, he lowered his hand and a small smirk formed at the edge of his lips.

That's right... he thought, I almost forgot who I am. He turned the faucet off and dried his hands, smirk growing smug and transforming his handsome face into something dark and familiar.

Atemu pulled his cell phone from his pocket, slowly forming a text. After he sent it, he slid the phone back into his pocket and left the restroom, leisurely making his way towards the gym. Hopefully, he would not be directed back to his classroom. He did have things to do after all and no time or patience for monotonous lectures.

By some stroke of luck, Atemu safely made it to the gym. There was no one in the building that he could see, but Atemu knew better than that. He directed himself towards the locker rooms and listened, but there was no sound. Frowning, he left the gymnasium and rounded the building. He paused when he heard muffled laughter. He closed in on the voices, taking care to keep his footsteps silent. A victorious smile crept across his lips. He had known he would find them somewhere here. Now he could start his inquiries and find the answers he knew the group always had.

"So how much was it?" came a voice.

Atemu abruptly halted. He peered around the corner and spied four students. All had a yellow armbands, as hall monitors were supposed to wear. The largest of the group shrugged at the question.

"Just a couple hundred yen. Damn pipsqueak was so broke I almost felt bad taking his money," he said gruffly. Atemu's eyes narrowed. It looked like he would not have to investigate any further because he had just found his target.

"Ha," one scoffed, "least it's something. The idiot I cornered didn't have a cent!"

Atemu closed his eyes in annoyance. He breathed deeply before opening them again. Two possible targets.

"Looks like we're the only ones who got lucky," a third said and Atemu frowned further. Four targets. "But then again, we have the same customers. Maybe you guys should stick to your regulars." Two targets?

Atemu heard the strike of a match and he made a pinched face of disgust at the scent of cigarette that floated over to him. He did not want that stench caught in his hair. He leaned against the building and crossed his arms, waiting. Closing his eyes once again, he figured the four would divulge more. If they did not, he would have to join them and use his own brand of persuasion to get his answers.

"The brat I used to shake down ran off to another school. But don't worry," said the largest, "I plan to make a weekly withdrawal from this pipsqueak. He might have been short on cash today, but I'm sure he'll muster up all he has when I pay him another visit tomorrow."

"And how do you know this kid won't have anyone to back him up?"

"Please, he's new" – eyes snapping open, Atemu straightened; that was the guy – "what friends could he possibly have?"

He knew who this hall monitor was.

Yuugi was standing by his locker and pulling on his street shoes when Ryou joined him. His best friend, Jounouchi, had rushed on home minutes before with an apology as he had a report to focus on. He had been in such a rush, that he had not even noticed Yuugi's shiny new bruise.

"Hey, think you could join us today?" Ryou asked cheerfully. The shorter teen blinked at him and hesitated as he finished tying off his sneakers. A vision of Atemu gently wiping the blood from his temple came to Yuugi's mind and his traitorous heart skipped a beat. He drew in a breath that got stuck in his throat at the thought of hanging out with Atemu outside school.

He imagined them strolling down a sidewalk, Atemu with his hands stuffed into his pockets, walking slowly so Yuugi's short legs could keep up with his longer stride. He could see Atemu smiling down at him as Yuugi talked, the same smile Yuugi had received during lunch. A blush tinged Yuugi's cheeks. He wanted to go. He really did. But he could not encourage this crush.

"Uh, will Atemu be coming?"

"Atemu won't be joining us today," came Bakura's disgruntled voice from over Yuugi's shoulder. Startled by the sudden voice, Yuugi jumped and Bakura stepped up beside him. The teen had the noise of a thief in the night, as in, he did not make any. "He texted me earlier," Bakura explained to the confused expression on his younger brother's face.

Ryou frowned, but did not ask. Yuugi, on the other hand, ached to know what it was that would keep the red-haired teen away.

"Oh," he said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear."

Startled once more, Yuugi whirled around in fright to see Malik, arms crossed, expression dark as he jerked his chin. He looked in the direction Malik indicated to see Atemu's familiar red and gold hair. Atemu stood, back to them with Melvin, a scratched-up metal bat in hand. He was steadily tapping the bat to his shoulder; Yuugi could not hear them and he could not see Atemu's face. Yuugi frowned to himself in bewilderment. Somehow, he had not thought Atemu was the type of guy to play sports. Though, Yuugi now understood why the teen would not be joining them. What was strange, however, was Melvin. The teen looked distraught. Ryou gasped and Bakura uttered a small curse at the sound. Looking to them, Yuugi felt puzzled by their reactions.

"Bakura!" Ryou glared at his brother and Bakura visibly braced himself.

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'!"

"Well, what! Does it look like I'm his bloody keeper? Let it go." Bakura huffed and crossed his arms just as Melvin came over, looking put out. Yuugi was confused, certain he was missing something.

"Pharaoh took my bat, Florence." Melvin said sadly. Bakura sighed and reached out to awkwardly pat Melvin on the shoulder. He then pulled a beanie from his pocket and handed it over to Melvin who grimaced at it before pulling it on. The odd part, though, was that Melvin tucked all his hair but his bangs underneath it. Again, Yuugi thought he was missing something.

"Also, don't call me that," Bakura said and turned towards the doors. "Let's go."

Melvin trailed behind him like a sad puppy and Malik came to stand next to Yuugi, his warm ochre face troubled. He eyed Yuugi's forehead where a bruise was already forming and sighed.

"Yuugi, tell us the truth. Was that really an accident?"

Yuugi's stomach roiled in guilt and he nodded, adjusting his backpack without meeting Malik's eyes. Ryou placed a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"Malik and I are here for you, should you suddenly remember what caused you to fall. Right, Malik?" The blonde nodded his head sincerely and smiled gently at him. It was the softest look Yuugi had ever seen on the other's face. Yuugi wanted to hug them both when a wave of tenderness washed over him.

"Thank you, Ryou. Malik," he whispered, more grateful for their friendship than ever.

"Ah, I was hoping to find you here, Ushio." The delighted deep voice echoed in the locker room. Ushio raised his head from his locker. He looked around for the source of the sound, large eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His club mates had already gone on home. He was the last one as was his custom. Ushio pulled on his shirt and buttoned it as he stepped away from the open locker.

"Who's there?" he called, annoyed that he could not see the source of the voice.

"Guess," it replied, amusement smothering its words. Ushio heard footsteps then, accompanied by a long scraping sound. The image of an ax dragging along the ground came to mind and Ushio shuddered. He glanced from side to side to pinpoint the direction of the noises, but the echoes in the room confused him even more.

"Just tell me!" he grabbed his jacket roughly and shoved it into his backpack before zipping it closed. Slamming his locker shut, Ushio glanced around warily, trying to keep both ends of the aisle within his line of sight.

"It's not fun if you don't guess," said the voice, "but I suppose I might as well get right down to business."

Ushio turned just in time to see Atemu rounding a corner. He breathed a sigh of relief. He shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder and raised his chin in greeting.

"Oh, Atemu! It's just you." He chuckled nervously when Atemu lifted a bat from where he had been dragging it, placing it at his shoulder. Ushio gripped the strap on his backpack tighter. "What, uh, business did you have with me? You know I didn't have anything to do with Suzuki! I told him not to mess with Bakura's little brother. Idiot didn't listen and kept going on about how freaky the kid is."

"Oh, don't worry about Suzuki," Atemu said lightly, bat tapping his shoulder.

Ushio felt dread pool into his veins. He clenched his teeth and hefted his backpack higher onto his shoulder. Atemu was much shorter than him. He could easily overpower the teen if it came down to a fight.

"What's with the bat?" he asked cautiously.

Atemu took the bat into both hands, spreading his legs as he got into a batting position. He pointed the bat at Ushio and pulled it back. He swung the bat experimentally, calculatingly slow.

"Thought I'd try out for baseball," said Atemu idly as he swung again, keeping his swing graceful and precise. A smirk pulled at his face severely and Ushio took an unconscious step back. "Seems like it would be fun," Atemu said as he swung a third time. Ushio visibly tensed and Atemu chuckled. His body became rigid then and he swung one last time, hard. The bat flew from his hands and Ushio did not have time to dodge. The bat struck his cheek and Ushio cried out, backpack dropping to the floor as he stumbled back, hands coming up to cradle his face as he doubled over in pain. The bat clattered to the floor and Atemu swiftly picked it up, laughing.

"Maybe not. Such a bad swing, wasn't it?" Atemu brought the bat down on Ushio's back and the other fell to the floor with a grunt.

"Needs work, I think," Atemu hissed as he swung.

"You rat bastard!" Ushio yelled, arm coming up to defend himself.

"Practice makes perfect!" Atemu landed a blow on Ushio's arm and grinned at the snapping sound it made. Ushio screamed and Atemu kicked him in the stomach as hard as he could, winding him to effectively cut his cry off.

"I don't know Ushio, I think I'm getting better! I can hear my fans screaming!" Atemu kicked him again before bringing the bat back down several more times.

He paused when Ushio began to cry.

"Do you know why I did this, Ushio?" asked Atemu calmly, smile stretching his lips thin. Ushio only continued to blubber and Atemu prodded his broken arm, earning another pained sob. "Listen closely," he reprimanded with another stab to the broken arm, "You paying attention?" He pressed down on the broken limb with the end of the bat and Ushio whimpered with a broken gasp before nodding. "Good. I did this because today, you took a couple hundred yen off a small boy named Yuugi," he continued placidly, still smiling as he shrugged his shoulders, working out the kinks and he cracked his neck, "You know him as 'the new kid' or 'pipsqueak'. You hurt him and took his money. And that, in my book" – Atemu raised his weapon, his happy demeanor slipped away and his face contorted in pure rage as he growled – "is unforgivable."

Sighing, Yuugi collapsed into the chair at his desk. He was finally home. He shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor with his bag. He then slumped onto his desk, laying his head on his arm tiredly and sighed again. Bakura had taken a large interest in him during their outing. At the rowdy, unfamiliar cafe that Bakura had insisted they go to, he had garnered Yuugi's attention and stopped him from leaving for hours! It had not helped that Bakura and Malik had not resolved their issues. With all the attention Bakura had given him, Malik had only grown more annoyed and volatile, though he had only lashed out at Bakura.

Yuugi did not know what had caused Bakura to take such an interest in him, but he thanked every god he knew when he had finally stopped. Yuugi frowned. It had actually been when Bakura had received a text that he had stopped vying for his attention and finally let him go free. Yuugi felt slightly used now that he thought about it. There was something that Bakura had been doing. Yuugi did not know what it had been, but he supposed it did not matter now that it was over.

Yuugi turned his head to get more comfortable and his bruise throbbed in protest. Sighing, he mustered up the strength to stand then and gathered his pajama from his bed into his arms. He ventured into the bathroom and frowned at the bruise that was beginning to consume his face. It was no wonder his grandfather and mother had given him the third degree when he had arrived. But with years of practice, Yuugi had dodged their questions and avoided another call to school.

He groaned. The boy that had done this to him was definitely expecting him to bring the money specified the next day. Yuugi wondered if he could somehow skip school for the rest of his life so that he never had to see that guy again. Snorting at his ridiculous thought, he placed the pajamas at the edge of the counter and began to empty his pockets.

Out came candy, playing cards, his wallet, and the handkerchief. Yuugi stared at the wrinkled cloth, heart warming at the memory of Atemu.

Do I have to give it back? wondered Yuugi. He fingered the gold thread that bordered the edges and sighed unhappily at the blood staining the soft, champagne-colored linen. Will he still want it back even though it's ruined? he silently asked. Yuugi turned the linen over in his hands, running his fingers over the cool fabric reverently. He paused when his fingers encountered a design in the corner. No, not a design. Yuugi spread the material to view it, only to find it was Atemu's name. Seeing it brought back the memory from earlier.

"...little one."

Yuugi's heart thudded loudly in his chest and a blush spread like wildfire across his face. Embarrassed, Yuugi covered his face with his hands, breathing in the gentle earthy scent of the handkerchief.

It smelled wonderful to Yuugi. He breathed it in deeply, sighing happily until he realized exactly what he was doing. He was sniffing Atemu's handkerchief. Mortified by his actions, Yuugi grabbed his bar of soap from the shower and opened the faucet at the sink. He dared to allow himself one last whiff of the scent before drowning the fabric in the water. He scrubbed at the blood, taking care not to harm the fabric. He felt conflicted; he liked Atemu and it bothered him. He should not like Atemu. The guy was a terror to other kids and had apparently set someone on fire! There was no way the guy was safe or sane for that matter!

Yuugi continued to mentally berate himself, rinsing the cloth and wringing it. He hung it on the towel rack to dry and proceeded to undress. He then jumped into the shower before he did another stupid thing, like checking to see if the piece of cloth still smelled amazing.

As he showered, Yuugi wondered if the smell was Atemu's laundry detergent. If it was, Yuugi was going to have to get the product name off the guy somehow. He wanted that laundry detergent. Atemu was so selfish, hogging that incredible scent all to himself. Anyone who did not know of Atemu's laundry detergent had been cheated.

Yuugi thumped his forehead against the tiles with a groan. He was being ridiculous.

It's probably not even laundry detergent, Yuugi bemoaned internally, it's probably that jerk's own … personal … scent. He stilled, eyes widening. What if it is his scent? He bit his lip. What if Atemu actually smells like that all the time? Yuugi looked at the shampoo bottle in his hand. He opened it and poured some onto his palm. What if Atemu just leaves his scent on everything that touches him? The underlying pink in Yuugi's cheeks grew and he suddenly felt too warm. Would I have to make him roll in my clothes to make them smell like that? The image of Atemu rubbing Yuugi's clothes over his naked torso was too much for Yuugi.

Oh, my god, he thought with alarm before using his unoccupied palm to turn off the hot water and letting the cold rake over his heated skin. He hissed and yelped at the cold, trying to erase the thought of Atemu's naked anything from his mind by scrubbing the shampoo into his hair with a vengeance. He willfully ignored the curious jerk between his legs. Hormones or not, Yuugi would not be getting off tonight.

The room was dark as Atemu kissed the neck underneath him, skin white like bleached sand. The only light came from the moon that filtered in from the parted curtains. He nibbled on the skin. A content hum reverberated in his throat when a shudder ran through the body underneath him. Goosebumps spread across the skin and Atemu kissed it again before running a long lick up and over the trembling chin. He paused at the parted pink lips, studying the stunning vision laid before him. Yuugi's gorgeous eyes were squeezed shut, his cheeks flushed, lips silently mouthing "oh, god." A tender smile spread across Atemu's lips and he leaned down to take those praises for himself. He kissed the boy languidly. There was no hurry. The night was not going anywhere. He had all the time in the world with Yuugi.

He nipped at Yuugi's lips and the boy gasped. Atemu pressed his hungry lips to the corner of that sweet mouth, branding a trail as he moved down, lips seeking all the milky skin they could touch. Atemu was starving for Yuugi. His chest ached and his mouth was as dry as a desert. He ran reverent hands up Yuugi's arms, burning with a need to touch the other boy. Atemu licked his way to a hardened nipple and Yuugi mewled loudly, spurring him on, shivering hands clenching the red sheets beneath him.

Atemu sucked on the nub, directing one hand to the other. He squeezed it between his fingers, earning himself another moan. Atemu was panting, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest.

Yuugi, Yuugi, Yuugi...

Like a man possessed, Atemu moaned Yuugi's name like a mantra. He kissed, sucked, and bit at Yuugi's body, obsessed with the sounds coming out of the other's mouth, doing anything and everything to elicit more. He needed more. He lowered himself down Yuugi's body, dragging his tongue along his skin.

"Atemu," Yuugi whimpered, and Atemu smirked. "Atemu, wait," Yuugi pleaded and Atemu raised his head in question. Yuugi's plum-colored eyes were open, looking at him in fear.

"Yuugi..." Atemu whispered and crawled back up to him in worry. "What is it?" Yuugi turned his gaze away and Atemu frowned. "Speak to me, my love."

"...I'm not ready for this," Yuugi whispered, "I can't do this."

He looked at Atemu then, but didn't meet his gaze. His eyes were shining with tears and Atemu raised a hand to wipe them away. Yuugi flinched and Atemu stopped dead.

"Yuugi?"

"...get off of me." Yuugi murmured. Atemu hesitated.

"What?" Yuugi met his eyes then, hate and disgust etched in every line of his delicate face.

"Get off of me, you monster!"

Atemu sat up with a start, the silk sheets pooling around his navel. He was alone in the spacious room. Alone in his grand breathed out heavily, hunching forward in relief. It had just been a dream. Atemu ran his hands roughly over his face, fingers entwining in his messy hair, yanking on the strands before letting them fall back into his lap. He stared at the foot of the bed, eyes unfocused.

Don't think about it, he thought groggily to himself, you'll only be hurting yourself.

Glancing at the digital alarm clock, Atemu read the blue, glowing numbers and groaned.

He only had five minutes before he had to get up.

"Fuck it." Atemu jerked his arm onto the alarm and flipped the switch so it would not go off. He then buried himself back into his silk sheets and fell right back to sleep.

"...Goutei." Atemu groaned, burying his face further into the pillow. The comfort of it dragging him back under –

"Master Goutei, please." The gentle female voice pleaded and Atemu shoved his face under the pillow, bracing his arms over it, determined to go back to sleep.

"Master Goutei, you'll be late. Please get up. You won't have any time for breakfast –"

"Fuck. Off," Atemu growled, irritated at the voice.

"P-please, Master Goutei –"

"I said fuck off!" Atemu sat up, launching the pillow at the voice.

The maid yelped and ran from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Atemu blinked, his handsome face pulled into a scowl, one eye closed. The room was too bright. He glanced around and sighed when he noticed the maid had pulled open the heavy wine-colored curtains. She must have been new. The other maids knew better than to open his curtains.

"Well, I'm fucking awake now!" he yelled to the closed door. He tried to push himself forward only to fall directly onto his face. Frustrated with his lack of coordination, he did not bother moving from his new position. Instead, he relaxed and closed his eyes, ass in the air and not caring. He was going to go back to sleep until his limbs realized what they were for and functioned correctly.

Atemu heard the door open and he sighed.

"You can fuck off again, I'm going back to sleep."

"I'm your mother, not your maid."

Atemu rolled onto his side and opened his eyes, trying his best to look guilty.

"Sorry, mom," he mumbled, "Morning. You staying for breakfast today –"

The woman at the door with his similar brown skin tone cut him off with a pleasant smile and a glance at her watch, short auburn hair bobbing across her vision.

"You're going to be late for school. I'm leaving. I'll see you when I get home." She waved sweetly and sauntered off before he could even say another word. Atemu yanked the sheets back over himself and closed his eyes.

"Love you too," he muttered bitterly to himself, a dull ache in his chest.

"Master Goutei, your cousins have arrived." The maid was back. Atemu rolled his eyes. She really was new. The seasoned maids knew well enough not to bother him with such trivialities.

"Right. I'll be down soon. You can go now." The door closed and Atemu pulled the sheets from his face. He rubbed at his eyes, trying his best to chase the drowsiness away. And with a great effort, rolled out of bed and onto his feet, steadying himself with a bookshelf. He meandered to the far side of the room and lit the small candle under the bowl of myrrh-scented oil on his ebony vanity. He peered into the mirror and frowned at his rumpled and bushed appearance. His hair was in disarray and three times its usual size. He had shadows under his eyes and one of his eyelids had trouble staying open.

"Very sexy," he muttered petulantly before turning and shuffling to his bathroom, his feet dragging through the cream-colored, wool carpet.

A/N: Do not ask for updates. Thank you.