Dancer: The first day of summer has officially begun. And I have nothing
to do.
Flame: I thought you ate pillows and chased purple rabbits. According to what you wrote in everyone's yearbook, that's your summer plans.
Dancer: Well, I don't see any purple rabbits and all the pillows around here we use for sleeping.
Flame: Sounds like your problem to me.
IMPORTANT: I need opinions on another story. Remember the Master of Death, who I mentioned in the first couple of paragraphs of the last chapter? ::Waits patiently as all readers go back and reread that part.::
Well, I have a story, a plot, and everything for him. It won't be first person; he's too reserved and emotionless to really work that way; and it probably won't be as humorous, since the entire nature of the story will be darker and gloomier. Should I write it?
Let me rephrase that: I have to write it, to get it out of my system, but should I just let it sit in the puter or post it? No skin off my back, just more begging for reviews.
The Master (he does have a name, but you'll just have to wait and see) isn't as cold and heartless as I made him out to be in this story. He's more rather just seriously misunderstood and hates himself. Not a healthy pastime, but. . . .
Answer, please! Whoever answers first gets something intangible: a char in the next story, an extra long chapter for this one, faster updates, whatever. To an extent. AngelStarfire does not count. She already has enough influence.
Ja ne!
Disclaimer: ::Flame is still prowling around with the tranq gun::
Dancer: We do not own YGO, or Battosei. We own Shay. Not Kaiba, no matter what Flame thinks she's doing.
~*~*~*~*~
My world had shut down.
For several days, I was unaware of the passing time. My life was centered around my thoughts.
I had wanted to kill Seto Kaiba. I had tried to kill Seto Kaiba.
I had almost succeeded in killing Seto Kaiba.
I don't know precisely where I wound up. I just know that I had gotten out of there as quickly as I could. The colors still danced in my mind, lights flashing, streaks of black lightning and scarlet-----
No. I am not thinking about it.
And I am fooling nobody.
The worst thing by far is how much I had enjoyed using that power. How much of a thrill I had gotten from seeing Kaiba finally, at long last, down on his knees and giving me the respect and fear I deserve. How I had loved to see his pain, to see him helpless against my immense power.
How I had decided to kill him anyways.
To me, Seto Kaiba is a challenge. And my instincts tell me to overcome and destroy all challenges.
Well, I overpowered him. Whether he stayed down and beaten, or got back on his feet and came back for round two was another question entirely.
One that I already know the answer to.
Whatever Kaiba did in retaliation, it didn't really matter. All hopes of friendship, or at least peace between us, had gone up in smoke and black lightning.
After a long time of silence from the rest of the house, I ventured out of my hiding spot. It was dark and silent, giving me the feeling that night had fallen.
The first place I went was the kitchen.
The room had been completely replaced. Walls, ceiling, floor, windows, all appliances, cupboard doors and countertops. The glasses and plates were new, the silverware had been replaced. Paint had been literally peeled off by my power and small chips of it were still lying around.
The carpet in the living room had either magically changed colors, or had been replaced. So had the couch closest to the kitchen.
I glanced in the dining room, almost scared of what I might see.
No damage in there, at least.
I sighed as I looked around. I could still sense an echo of what had happened. The power seemed to radiate off everything in waves.
I wrapped my arms around my stomach and leaned against the wall, staring into the corner and feeling sorry for myself again.
After a few minutes, I pushed away and wandered upstairs.
The once-was pink room was now silver.
I blinked and looked back in. Silver?
Ok, Battosei. Whatever you say.
I continued down the hallway.
Mokuba's room was empty. So was Kaiba's.
Had I scared them off?
Feeling even guiltier than ever, I returned to the kitchen. The site of my first original attempt at leaving the house. The room where I discovered my weakness for water. Now, the room where Kaiba had almost died because of my temper.
Amazing how everything seems to go in a circle.
I floated in about two inches, then lunged backward as the shadows spoke.
"About time you got your lazy ass out of that wall," a contempt-filled voice snapped coldly. "I knew you'd come back here. You just took your time."
"Kaiba?" I fought to keep the relief out of my voice. He was all right. That took a whole lot of weight off my shoulders, although why I would be happy to know Seto Kaiba was alive was beyond me. After all, all he'd ever done to me is shove me around and insult me and make me feel like a moron. Why should I be worried about him when he was giving me so many reasons to hate him?
I hate this asshole. I really do. I think.
I hope.
I shook my head and backed up another couple of inches. Confusion reigned.
He was silent, busy just watching me, I suppose. When I stopped moving and glared back at where I thought he was, he spoke again.
"Thanks for the power demonstration, but next time, I think I'll pass. I'm just glad Mokuba wasn't hurt." He paused, then continued. "How did you do that?"
"Everyone wants to know, right?" I asked bitterly.
"Yes. But only I will know unless you allow it otherwise."
Seto Kaiba is being nice to me? ME?
Get a tape recorder, folks, we have to have firm proof.
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because I have a right to know what the hell you did to me, and how."
I stared at him. He took my meaning after several seconds and groaned.
"Trust your gutter mind to take that to a bad place," he muttered. "All, Shay, try acting like a normal person for once and not some sex-obsessed maniac."
"I am not sex-obsessed," I muttered. Not going to deny the maniac part. Not sure I'd be right if I did.
"And you're not a normal person, so just answer the question."
"I don't know how I did it. I don't even know what I did. How about you tell me what happened?"
He sighed and finally stepped out of the shadows. A little pale, but that just may be the lack of lights. Otherwise, he doesn't look like he got a ghost mad at him.
Of course, with those damned trench coats he wears, it'd be hard to see any damage I'd done without getting way too personal.
Kaiba walked past me, making a point of going around instead of through me. He wandered over to a couch and flipped on a lamp.
"Your eyes went bright, blood red," he informed me as he sat down. In this lighting I could see him a little better. A few scratches here and there on his face, but they were mostly healed.
"Some sort of black electricity surrounded you. Then," he gave me a small glare, "all hell broke loose."
"Descriptive," I countered. "How about some detail?"
"I don't really remember," he answered as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the couch. "I remember a high-pitched noise. Very high. I'm not sure if humans were intended to hear such a high pitch. Still, I heard it, and it hurt. I couldn't focus, couldn't think, couldn't even stand up."
High-pitched noise? What I had heard sounded a lot like a train rushing by. Maybe my hearing is less sensitive to such high notes, or maybe the noise was my magical defense against the noise that had taken Kaiba out so effortlessly.
"It stopped after a second or two," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "When it did, everything else started to explode. Whenever a bolt of your lightning touched it, it would break. The glass had already been shattered by the noise. After the wall got hit a few times, the ceiling started to give in. I couldn't get up; if I tried, the noise would start again."
He shrugged, no simple chore when one shoulder was practically dissected by a large chunk of wood.
"Then, I saw a piece of what had once been the dining room table come flying in, and the next thing I knew, I was lying in bed and it was early afternoon." He stressed the 'had once been'.
Oh well. The new dining room table looks exactly like the old one did before it was Shay-ized.
He gestured to me, basically meaning that it was my turn. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relive the incident without the bloodlust.
"I just got mad," I admitted with a shrug. Why I was mad was of no consequence now. "All the sudden, you started backing up, and black lightning started appearing."
"What did you hear?"
"A rush. Like when a train goes past. Only it didn't stop. You started to collapse, and the room started to fall apart. Then everything else you saw. Right after you were knocked out, Mokuba came in, and everything just. . . . stopped."
He looked at me, one eyebrow high. "It just stopped?"
I nodded.
"I think seeing him might have calmed me down, and without anger, I can't use those powers. Anyway, he went right to you, and when he said you were all right, I left."
Nothing was said for several long minutes. He sat forward, resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on his knee. The other hand drummed a tempo on the arm of the couch.
We're back to thinking.
"We haven't been able to find you for three days," he said. "Mokuba was getting really worried."
His eyes slid over to meet mine.
"You know why I waited," I challenged. He nodded slightly.
"I'm sorry," I muttered after a while. He shrugged again. This time I saw the tiny flicker of pain cross his face.
"No need to be sorry."
"If I want to, I'm gonna," I snapped. Kaiba sat up and snapped back just as sharply.
"If you want to," he growled. "But if I want to, I can shut you up permanently. I was the High Priest back in Ancient Egypt, and what I say, goes."
Well. That explains a lot.
"So? Back in Ancient Egypt, Yami was a Pharaoh. Now he's got a room that's about the size of a baseball and all the finery $3.50 can buy you," I snarled. Kaiba sneered.
"You're in Japan, Shay. We use yen."
"You're missing the point." I shot back.
"And the point is that that was then, this is now, right?"
"Precisely."
"Fine. If this is now, and I'm just the CEO of Kaiba Corp.-"
"JUST the CEO of Kaiba Corp.???!!!"
"And the priests back then were used to dealing with spirits on a daily basis-"
"Well, there's three so far,"
"Then why is it that I'm the only one who can touch you?"
Utter silence.
"Thought so," he muttered.
Unable to come up with a response to that, I tried for something else.
"How do you know you were the High Priestess?"
He gave me a really poisonous look.
"I mean Priest."
"Bakura told me," he answered, apparently not quite willing to forgive the priestess jab. "He believes that it's the reason why I can touch you, and why I survived your little tantrum."
Ouch. Ok, maybe I deserved it, but he made me sound like a two-year-old.
"You survived because your little brother is a light sleeper," I countered.
"Normally he's not."
Here we go again.
We argued around in circles, jumping from subject to subject for about two hours, before the one and only thing that could shut us up happened.
Mokuba appeared at the bottom of the stairs, grabbed a headset and CD player off the table, and pointedly dropped a roll of duct tape onto the couch next to Kaiba. We both watched him march back upstairs.
"I think we're getting a bit loud." Kaiba picked up the duct tape and showed it to me.
There was a picture of someone with their mouth duct taped shut drawn onto it.
With that humorous, albeit not-so-subtle, warning, we decided to pick up the argument in the morning.
Feeling considerably better about the whole destroy-the-kitchen incident, I dropped to the basement to wait out the rest of the night.
Flame: I thought you ate pillows and chased purple rabbits. According to what you wrote in everyone's yearbook, that's your summer plans.
Dancer: Well, I don't see any purple rabbits and all the pillows around here we use for sleeping.
Flame: Sounds like your problem to me.
IMPORTANT: I need opinions on another story. Remember the Master of Death, who I mentioned in the first couple of paragraphs of the last chapter? ::Waits patiently as all readers go back and reread that part.::
Well, I have a story, a plot, and everything for him. It won't be first person; he's too reserved and emotionless to really work that way; and it probably won't be as humorous, since the entire nature of the story will be darker and gloomier. Should I write it?
Let me rephrase that: I have to write it, to get it out of my system, but should I just let it sit in the puter or post it? No skin off my back, just more begging for reviews.
The Master (he does have a name, but you'll just have to wait and see) isn't as cold and heartless as I made him out to be in this story. He's more rather just seriously misunderstood and hates himself. Not a healthy pastime, but. . . .
Answer, please! Whoever answers first gets something intangible: a char in the next story, an extra long chapter for this one, faster updates, whatever. To an extent. AngelStarfire does not count. She already has enough influence.
Ja ne!
Disclaimer: ::Flame is still prowling around with the tranq gun::
Dancer: We do not own YGO, or Battosei. We own Shay. Not Kaiba, no matter what Flame thinks she's doing.
~*~*~*~*~
My world had shut down.
For several days, I was unaware of the passing time. My life was centered around my thoughts.
I had wanted to kill Seto Kaiba. I had tried to kill Seto Kaiba.
I had almost succeeded in killing Seto Kaiba.
I don't know precisely where I wound up. I just know that I had gotten out of there as quickly as I could. The colors still danced in my mind, lights flashing, streaks of black lightning and scarlet-----
No. I am not thinking about it.
And I am fooling nobody.
The worst thing by far is how much I had enjoyed using that power. How much of a thrill I had gotten from seeing Kaiba finally, at long last, down on his knees and giving me the respect and fear I deserve. How I had loved to see his pain, to see him helpless against my immense power.
How I had decided to kill him anyways.
To me, Seto Kaiba is a challenge. And my instincts tell me to overcome and destroy all challenges.
Well, I overpowered him. Whether he stayed down and beaten, or got back on his feet and came back for round two was another question entirely.
One that I already know the answer to.
Whatever Kaiba did in retaliation, it didn't really matter. All hopes of friendship, or at least peace between us, had gone up in smoke and black lightning.
After a long time of silence from the rest of the house, I ventured out of my hiding spot. It was dark and silent, giving me the feeling that night had fallen.
The first place I went was the kitchen.
The room had been completely replaced. Walls, ceiling, floor, windows, all appliances, cupboard doors and countertops. The glasses and plates were new, the silverware had been replaced. Paint had been literally peeled off by my power and small chips of it were still lying around.
The carpet in the living room had either magically changed colors, or had been replaced. So had the couch closest to the kitchen.
I glanced in the dining room, almost scared of what I might see.
No damage in there, at least.
I sighed as I looked around. I could still sense an echo of what had happened. The power seemed to radiate off everything in waves.
I wrapped my arms around my stomach and leaned against the wall, staring into the corner and feeling sorry for myself again.
After a few minutes, I pushed away and wandered upstairs.
The once-was pink room was now silver.
I blinked and looked back in. Silver?
Ok, Battosei. Whatever you say.
I continued down the hallway.
Mokuba's room was empty. So was Kaiba's.
Had I scared them off?
Feeling even guiltier than ever, I returned to the kitchen. The site of my first original attempt at leaving the house. The room where I discovered my weakness for water. Now, the room where Kaiba had almost died because of my temper.
Amazing how everything seems to go in a circle.
I floated in about two inches, then lunged backward as the shadows spoke.
"About time you got your lazy ass out of that wall," a contempt-filled voice snapped coldly. "I knew you'd come back here. You just took your time."
"Kaiba?" I fought to keep the relief out of my voice. He was all right. That took a whole lot of weight off my shoulders, although why I would be happy to know Seto Kaiba was alive was beyond me. After all, all he'd ever done to me is shove me around and insult me and make me feel like a moron. Why should I be worried about him when he was giving me so many reasons to hate him?
I hate this asshole. I really do. I think.
I hope.
I shook my head and backed up another couple of inches. Confusion reigned.
He was silent, busy just watching me, I suppose. When I stopped moving and glared back at where I thought he was, he spoke again.
"Thanks for the power demonstration, but next time, I think I'll pass. I'm just glad Mokuba wasn't hurt." He paused, then continued. "How did you do that?"
"Everyone wants to know, right?" I asked bitterly.
"Yes. But only I will know unless you allow it otherwise."
Seto Kaiba is being nice to me? ME?
Get a tape recorder, folks, we have to have firm proof.
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because I have a right to know what the hell you did to me, and how."
I stared at him. He took my meaning after several seconds and groaned.
"Trust your gutter mind to take that to a bad place," he muttered. "All, Shay, try acting like a normal person for once and not some sex-obsessed maniac."
"I am not sex-obsessed," I muttered. Not going to deny the maniac part. Not sure I'd be right if I did.
"And you're not a normal person, so just answer the question."
"I don't know how I did it. I don't even know what I did. How about you tell me what happened?"
He sighed and finally stepped out of the shadows. A little pale, but that just may be the lack of lights. Otherwise, he doesn't look like he got a ghost mad at him.
Of course, with those damned trench coats he wears, it'd be hard to see any damage I'd done without getting way too personal.
Kaiba walked past me, making a point of going around instead of through me. He wandered over to a couch and flipped on a lamp.
"Your eyes went bright, blood red," he informed me as he sat down. In this lighting I could see him a little better. A few scratches here and there on his face, but they were mostly healed.
"Some sort of black electricity surrounded you. Then," he gave me a small glare, "all hell broke loose."
"Descriptive," I countered. "How about some detail?"
"I don't really remember," he answered as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the couch. "I remember a high-pitched noise. Very high. I'm not sure if humans were intended to hear such a high pitch. Still, I heard it, and it hurt. I couldn't focus, couldn't think, couldn't even stand up."
High-pitched noise? What I had heard sounded a lot like a train rushing by. Maybe my hearing is less sensitive to such high notes, or maybe the noise was my magical defense against the noise that had taken Kaiba out so effortlessly.
"It stopped after a second or two," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "When it did, everything else started to explode. Whenever a bolt of your lightning touched it, it would break. The glass had already been shattered by the noise. After the wall got hit a few times, the ceiling started to give in. I couldn't get up; if I tried, the noise would start again."
He shrugged, no simple chore when one shoulder was practically dissected by a large chunk of wood.
"Then, I saw a piece of what had once been the dining room table come flying in, and the next thing I knew, I was lying in bed and it was early afternoon." He stressed the 'had once been'.
Oh well. The new dining room table looks exactly like the old one did before it was Shay-ized.
He gestured to me, basically meaning that it was my turn. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relive the incident without the bloodlust.
"I just got mad," I admitted with a shrug. Why I was mad was of no consequence now. "All the sudden, you started backing up, and black lightning started appearing."
"What did you hear?"
"A rush. Like when a train goes past. Only it didn't stop. You started to collapse, and the room started to fall apart. Then everything else you saw. Right after you were knocked out, Mokuba came in, and everything just. . . . stopped."
He looked at me, one eyebrow high. "It just stopped?"
I nodded.
"I think seeing him might have calmed me down, and without anger, I can't use those powers. Anyway, he went right to you, and when he said you were all right, I left."
Nothing was said for several long minutes. He sat forward, resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on his knee. The other hand drummed a tempo on the arm of the couch.
We're back to thinking.
"We haven't been able to find you for three days," he said. "Mokuba was getting really worried."
His eyes slid over to meet mine.
"You know why I waited," I challenged. He nodded slightly.
"I'm sorry," I muttered after a while. He shrugged again. This time I saw the tiny flicker of pain cross his face.
"No need to be sorry."
"If I want to, I'm gonna," I snapped. Kaiba sat up and snapped back just as sharply.
"If you want to," he growled. "But if I want to, I can shut you up permanently. I was the High Priest back in Ancient Egypt, and what I say, goes."
Well. That explains a lot.
"So? Back in Ancient Egypt, Yami was a Pharaoh. Now he's got a room that's about the size of a baseball and all the finery $3.50 can buy you," I snarled. Kaiba sneered.
"You're in Japan, Shay. We use yen."
"You're missing the point." I shot back.
"And the point is that that was then, this is now, right?"
"Precisely."
"Fine. If this is now, and I'm just the CEO of Kaiba Corp.-"
"JUST the CEO of Kaiba Corp.???!!!"
"And the priests back then were used to dealing with spirits on a daily basis-"
"Well, there's three so far,"
"Then why is it that I'm the only one who can touch you?"
Utter silence.
"Thought so," he muttered.
Unable to come up with a response to that, I tried for something else.
"How do you know you were the High Priestess?"
He gave me a really poisonous look.
"I mean Priest."
"Bakura told me," he answered, apparently not quite willing to forgive the priestess jab. "He believes that it's the reason why I can touch you, and why I survived your little tantrum."
Ouch. Ok, maybe I deserved it, but he made me sound like a two-year-old.
"You survived because your little brother is a light sleeper," I countered.
"Normally he's not."
Here we go again.
We argued around in circles, jumping from subject to subject for about two hours, before the one and only thing that could shut us up happened.
Mokuba appeared at the bottom of the stairs, grabbed a headset and CD player off the table, and pointedly dropped a roll of duct tape onto the couch next to Kaiba. We both watched him march back upstairs.
"I think we're getting a bit loud." Kaiba picked up the duct tape and showed it to me.
There was a picture of someone with their mouth duct taped shut drawn onto it.
With that humorous, albeit not-so-subtle, warning, we decided to pick up the argument in the morning.
Feeling considerably better about the whole destroy-the-kitchen incident, I dropped to the basement to wait out the rest of the night.