Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh.
The pairings introduced right now:
Anzu/Yami no Yuugi
Jounouchi/Mai
The crushes introduced right now:
Ryou/Seto
Sorry for this chapter ending. I don't know if I can go back and work on "Die" unhindered from now on….
Chapter de Fifteenth: Homework Part Two
It's awkward, going to school without my book bag. I feel like I'm forgetting everything. Maybe I'll get in trouble? Without any paper, pens, folders, or notes, I don't really have much of a defense for being accused of being unprepared for class. The teacher won't like it at all. That, or she will be ecstatic to punish me for something. She's sadistic like that, I've noticed.
"Hi, Ryou!"
I smile politely. "Hello, Yuugi."
"Whoa, Bakura, you look different," Anzu observes because it's so easy to forget how perceptive she is. "Did you get a haircut or something?"
"No," I say a little nervously.
"But something…something's not the same…."
"Where's your book bag?" Yuugi, the genius, finally asks. I grin more nervously, grabbing my neck as if that helps.
"Um…somewhere…else?"
"What? Did some punk steal your stuff, Bakura?" Jounouchi asks, joining the interrogation. He want's a chance to beat someone up. It makes him feel more like a man or something. I'm not so sure he would beat up Mokuba, though.
"Well, you could say that…"
"Who? I'll get it back for you," Honda offers with Jounouchi right behind him.
"Yeah, who? We've got it."
"I don't know?" I offer. Honda's face drops slightly.
"Can you point to him or something?"
I wince somewhat from nerves and shake my head again. "They, uh, they aren't here."
"You know Bakura, you don't have to defend this guy. We can get your stuff back."
I blink at Jounouchi slowly. This conversation seems to be drifting by like a dream sequence. I'm half expecting to jolt awake and find myself in my room, alarm clock buzzing faithfully. Something's just a bit unreal about Yuugi-tachi's lines, like they're reading off a script.
Or maybe I'm just delusional….
Well, they're watching me funny. I must look like I got hit hard in the head. I admit, I'm disoriented, but for once this week I don't have a headache. My vision is a bit blurred but that's only because I'm so tired. I was up yesterday trying to remember all my homework assignments.
"I just don't have my book bag, Jounouchi. Sorry."
"Well, then I'll let you borrow my pen." He announces on sudden generous inspiration. Everyone else jumps the match the offer.
"I have some paper."
"There's a spare folder in my bag."
In a few seconds I have a variety of supplies. Though I doubt we'll use be using watercolors today or markers, the items are well received. I'm not sure whether I'm amazed by Yuugi-tachi's generosity or their surplus of pens, paper, and (believe or not) five new folders. There's even a three-ring binder and two blank notebooks from Anzu, which, once you decide pink flowers on purple don't bother you, are unexpected but perfectly all right.
"Thank you very much," I mutter in awe at the bundle in my arms.
"And you can sit by Yuugi and me and borrow our notes," Anzu consoles while I just gape her. "Here, let me organize all that."
In a flash Anzu grabs everything and somehow manages to make most of it fit into the three-ring binder.
"Here's a book I finished in case sensei wants us to spend time reading. You can have it. It's good."
I nod as Honda reaches into his bag and hands me the book. I take it and place it on top of the binder, too surprised to even read the title or look at the cover.
"Wow, you guys are amazing," I praise full heartedly, looking back up at them all. "I don't know how I'm going to pay you back for this."
"Awe, don't worry about it Bakura," Yuugi grins, "What are friends for?"
"Yeah," I nod in agreement as the bell rings. I'm a bit relived now, even without my homework. I walk with Yuugi-tachi to class, more confident than before. I know I'm going to have to get my books back eventually, but this is all right for the time being.
As we sit down, Anzu ushers me to a seat near her and Yuugi. I go along with her, since I really I have no idea what I'm doing. The rest of the class files in, including Kaiba. I avoid looking at him. There are so many places I can run from him, but at school there's nowhere to go. I peek over nervously as he takes his usual seat in the corner of the room.
"Class, take out your assignments and pass them to the front."
I glumly slouch and pass up the papers from the row behind me. In the back of my mind I dimly wish one was my own. I almost have the insane desire to grab a sheet and write my name on it, but by the time this inspiration comes, all the papers are gone. I watch the teacher commence to grading as the board is unveiled and our class assignments for today are displayed. I grab Jounouchi's pen and Anzu's notebook and start copying notes.
After a few moments, I notice my handwriting looks different. I guess it's because I'm using supplies that aren't mine.
It has to be the pink tinted paper.
I scratch out a whole line of notes violently, causing Anzu to look up at me, curious. I can't tell her what I did that for. It would sound crazy to say my writing was too horrible in that line to exist. My hand has formed a mind of it's own, made a personal, new style of writing that I really don't like. Of course the characters all look normal, but that's only to the untrained eye. I can see it though. The writing is sloppy, uncoordinated. I can't fix it; I can hardly see it. I scratch out another hideous line and Yuugi turns around as well. Everyone around me is more than halfway through the notes and I'm not getting past the first eight words. Before I know it, I'm at the end of the page and turning it over to start again. Yuugi-tachi is eyeing me oddly.
Suddenly a paper falls in front of my face and my scribbling hand. I look at it and back up at the teacher who is returning homework. For a few seconds I'm too stunned to acknowledge what happened. I nervously look at the paper to see my name on top, in the proper hand.
I'm confused.
I look over the rest to see another writing which obviously is not my own. I've seen it before though. Maybe a god wrote this for me in a show in infinite pity and I recognize his or her writing from before I was born? That or I saw it in my dreams. Maybe a divinely inspired artist used the script?
No, that isn't likely. In fact I know exactly whose hand is on the paper now that I take the time to study it. The big question here is 'why'? Seto Kaiba completing my homework can't just be for condolences sake, can it? Maybe it's an apology for Mokuba's vile behavior?
I'm still puzzled by this occurrence as class continues. I look at Kaiba every now and then to make sure he's here. It cannot be my homework magically appeared with Kaiba's handwriting. I'm shocked the teacher bothered to even check it. To me his writing looks so obvious, and yet she probably didn't notice.
"Bakura-san, please pay attention. I know you must be completely shocked by your grade, but I assure you, that is a genuine hundred."
Everyone laughs politely at the teacher's jest while I blush and try to finish my neglected notes. I know it's a one hundred, but it's not mine.
I am once again inching through my math under what I have dubbed the homework tree. There are very few people in my part of the schoolyard. Even Yuugi-tachi is far away, but I'm not paying attention. I'm trying to understand the concept of infinity.
"Math again? Whose book are you using?"
I look up at Kaiba who has taken in upon himself to come over. I don't try to find an excuse to leave. I feel a sort of dept to him for the homework, ignoring the fact that it wasn't my fault.
"Otogi's."
"Well here, you can have yours back." I watch Kaiba as he places my book bag on the seat. For a few seconds I don't know what to say, just watch. Kaiba might as well have revealed a third working arm for how much I'm staggered but this.
"Where'd you find it?" I ask. An answer for this question isn't really needed, but it gives me something to say. I don't want to sit silently like some idiot.
"Mokuba told me. I made him hand it over before I came to school."
I nod at this, not sure of the proper thing to respond with. Maybe a thank you is in order? Somehow I can't venture to let out at least that much and I have no idea why. My mind is slowly going blank and nothing I could say could be even remotely interesting or intelligent.
See, this is exactly why I couldn't stay at Kaiba's and had to leave my books behind. It's that, Kaiba…suddenly everything's so awkward with him. I have no idea if he still cares about me like he was letting on a few days ago. Otogi would easily tell me the way to answer this would be to ask, but I doubt he realizes how hard it is. Of course it's easy to plan out exactly what you're going to do when given a chance to prove your floundering affections, but once you find yourself in the proper scenario, everything curls into a little annoying ball and refuses say a single thing. In fact, the mood takes it upon itself to steal all of your lines--your entire mental dictionary--and no matter how long you prod at it, you won't get anything back. Instead, you are left with a quick pat on the back and an optimistic wish good luck before every logical way to approach the issue and every topic to discuss dissipates and waits to see just how good you are at making all of this up on the spot.
Since I don't pride myself in a rapid change of thought, I'm stuck blurting out the first words that come to mind, no matter how random or off subject. Lucky for me, my innate sense for propriety has decided to fill the empty seat in my thinking window which Reason has so conveniently abandoned and forgotten to put the "Out to Lunch" sign over.
"Thank you, Kaiba," I say quietly, grabbing up my bag without a thought. Maybe if I don't think, I don't have to deal with the situation that is trying to tangle my would-be easy bearings.
Either the same reason Kaiba isn't moving is because he is mentally rambling, or he's actually trying to come up with something to say (which again proves his way of thinking goes a lot farther than mine on its best days).
"One question, Bakura." He says, letting me know he's going to ask and I may as well be prepared because nothing will stop it. I nod, since I'm being polite and should have the decency to hear out one question. "That lobster, does it have a name?"
It takes a few seconds longer than it ought to for me realize that no, no the lobster doesn't have a name.
And what's that got to do with anything?
"No, I, uh, never really got around to it."
"Oh," Kaiba nods. "Mokuba thinks it should have one."
"Does he?"
"Yes," Kaiba continues. "He was thinking about Kappa."
I find myself (amazing because I'm in my polite mode) frowning at this.
"No. That's a turtle's name." I almost let Kaiba say something after me, but suddenly I cut him off. "I don't think the lobster even needs a name."
Instead of glaring at the interruption, Kaiba does an odd grin-smirk. I watch it and suppose he's more used to smirking, so it infiltrates his smile.
I hope that's it.
"Well, unless you give it a name Mokuba's going to call the lobster Kappa." Seto's smirk is still there. It's taken over any other expression that might feel like intruding, being just as stubborn as he is. "Do you want to call the lobster Kappa?"
"Well, what's wrong with just 'Lobster'?" I ask, considerably more comfortable after the ride over and readjusting myself to conversation with Kaiba.
"Ask Mokuba, it was his idea."
"Well tell him it's 'The Lobster' and to leave it at that."
Kaiba grins at this, as the aforementioned lobster still hasn't shown up. "Fine, call 'The Lobster' and see if he comes. Mokuba swore he responded to Kappa."
I frown slightly at the glass. If by respond Mokuba meant he twitched an antenna, than the boy was frantically aiming for attention from the animal. I never get so desperate as to disillusion myself in the faintest impression of hope that lobsters are intelligent creatures.
(Yeah, you don't do that ever, do you?)
"Lobster!" I call into the glass, feeling considerably foolish. Can the animal even hear me? I wonder if Kaiba thinks this is really going to work. Maybe it's just amusing for him to see me try.
"Lobster!"
Suddenly, the dark crustacean crawls out from behind a rock. I smile proudly at my accomplishment and turn to Kaiba.
"See, he responds to lobster, so—" I stop suddenly as Kaiba obviously isn't paying attention. "Are you all right, Kaiba?"
The brunette's face is lost in thought as he watches some fixed point inside the aquarium. He doesn't seem to notice me as he commences to talk with himself, more vocally broadcasting his thoughts than anything.
"Why do you care about a lobster?" he asks quietly. I'm not completely certain if this question is really directed towards me, as my presence doesn't seem to be in acknowledgement.
"What?" I inquire warily. The idea to go find Mokuba and have him take care of his brother flits by. The only thing is that I have no idea where Mokuba is.
"What does the lobster do I can't?"
I find myself mentally answering this for no reason other than I have no idea what else to do. I note the lobster is less unstable and basically a predicable creature. I can't say it's any safer than Kaiba, especially when irritated, but you can dodge the claws.
I quickly try to figure what to say. There is a mutual understanding that neither of us brings up the "relationship" or Kaiba's hopefully (though apparently not) absent affections. I'm clueless on how to just end this, especially because seeing Kaiba admit he cares is a secret wish I have. Kaiba is unpredictable and I have no idea how long he can carry out a plan, how long he can want something enough to try. I've told myself this is a cruel joke of his, but that's starting to look ridiculous. It can't be.
But then, I also (to contradict myself as always) feel more than willing to run right into his arms and kiss him violently to just get everything over with. I know it's a cliché that works out great in the movies when there's some kind of relationship issue. It would seem easy to just kiss and make up, to flat out give in completely. Kaiba does seem beaten up by all of this enough to insure at least some kind of positive affect. Maybe it would work and for a while we could be perfectly happy, ignoring the bony fingers sticking out of the doors to our closets, beckoning to be opened. It sounds so easy.
I decide I'm going to do something about our situation. In my mind I can see it. I play with the hazy mental images of me softly saying something--something assuring and yet informing my intent to be closer. Then, with Kaiba being fully aware of it, I'd sneak up quietly for the kiss and presto, happily ever after in under fifteen seconds.
I open my mouth to give my calm, revealing statement. At the same time I realize one of the very important niceties I've overlooked. I don't know what to say. I don't know the phrase to sum up what I want Kaiba to know while all this time is ticking away. I did have something for a brief few seconds, but it's slipped away. Now, under pressure from the clock, my mind throws out the next rational thought.
"So, Kaiba, about my homework. I recognized your handwriting."
I want to scream at whatever intelligence threw that out. Is that really the best I can come up with? It so unlike what I wanted to say.
"Why did you do it?" I ask, trying not to sigh as I realize exactly what happened. Once again, Ryou the chicken-hearted got cold feet.
"What?" Kaiba asks, coming to reality and not too sure about what I've just said. He finally sorts it out (much faster than I could have), and shrugs.
"I felt like it. Mokuba shouldn't have taken all your books in the first place," he says, the information boring and dry next to what I had been imagining to happen instead. I listen to his words and nod along.
"Thank you. It was a surprise."
A slight smirk plays on Kaiba's lips at this as though he knew this but hearing me admit it to him made it twice as amusing.
"Well, isn't life full of surprises?" he grins, his philosophical citation losing its effect in the sardonic tone.
"Um, yeah..." I mutter, once again lost. I can see the visit slowly waning as reasons for me to stay become fewer and more random. I really should be going instead of staying and indulging my fantasy in things that maybe could, but aren't going to happen. I look tensely at the door and Kaiba notices.
"I guess you ought to go, what with all the homework you have to do. And the studying you have to catch up on."
Suddenly, from the fog of my thought an inspiration storms out and jumps up and down, waving its arms wildly to make sure I know it's there.
"Can you help? I don't quite understand."
"What?"
"With my homework."
Kaiba blinks and I faintly realize my genius might be costing him some work or a meeting.
I repress this. If the work were that important Kaiba would apologize and send me on my way, even if he regretted it.
"I can," he says after thinking a moment. "What don't you understand?"
"Do you plan on studying quantum mechanics?"
I wince at the thought, "No."
"Then stop worrying about the waves. Just stick to Newton's laws. You don't need to know everything straight to the subatomic level."
I nod and decide to stop questioning the light on the sensei's diagram. I don't need to learn more than I have to. If I outthink the test I'll fail for not making sense. And anyway, those extra brain cells need to be reserved for all of the confusing mathematical formulas I might unexpectedly encounter.
"Now this is all elementary math, okay? The formula is a math problem, so treat it like one and don't be afraid to check your answer."
I nod, becoming increasingly intimidated by the negatives and positives. Sure, it would be easy to do this like your standard equation, but part of my mind wants to jump to why I come out with certain answers. That's the part confusing me. I'd pass if I stopped asking unnecessary questions.
But Sensei, why does the incline of the reflection matter? What purpose does it serve that we know this?
Bakura, just do the work and stop worrying about it. Are you looking to physics as a career field?
Er…no.
Then don't worry about it and finish copying the equations on the board.
But--
Bakura! Work!
But--
Work, dammit, work!
"All right, I'm pretty sure I understand, Kaiba," I quickly lie, pushing the workbook away and closing it on an hour's worth of equations. I'd rather do algebra--all those variables without purpose other than to make the most confusing sentences you'd never think of using in real life unless your dream is to teach high school math. I'm enjoy at algebra. I have no idea how to apply it to life, but I prefer it for that reason.
"Seems all you have left is that algebra." Kaiba nods at the final textbook. "Since you're not very good with that kind of work you'll be wanting some help?"
"Yeah." I nod. That's the plan.
"Well, this x variable here can be represented by negative three eights…."
I've discovered Kaiba's expressive medium: numbers. He completely lost me explaining our algebra assignment. It wasn't that he lacked confidence about the information he was handing out. No, it was worse. Kaiba understood the lesson so well, knew the sets so perfectly, that he merely assumed anyone fool could get it and was exasperated by my ability to defy his opinion.
Ryou's expressive medium: Sleep. When I'm bored I doze. I think it displays my inner disinterest, my inability to pay attention, and how strenuous it is that I listen to people rant about what I don't understand (or don't want to). My wish to be anywhere but there is represented in sleep and shows my relief at finding the escape to some dream world where I don't have to pay attention to anything but a war between dragons and large dogs which has been plaguing my thoughts for the past few days.
"Bakura, how is it possible you've survived algebra up until now? You must have gotten into the honors class somehow."
I shrug. The fact I'm in the honors class is completely beyond me. I don't think about it.
"I'm a lucky guesser? The entrance test was multiple choice."
Kaiba frowns at this and shakes his head. "That isn't it. Apparently you understand this and you don't know why. That's a little strange, Bakura. Why did you put yourself in all these classes you are now having trouble with?"
"Because I get A's and B's for some reason?" I shrug again. I was all right in the classes last year. Who said I wouldn't be again? I'm passing the tests fairly well.
Kaiba shakes his head, "You're crazy."
I don't think he realizes how true that sounds. Involuntarily, my mind jumps back to my letters and other truly insane things I've done. I try to not think about that, somehow paranoid Kaiba can read my mind and see it there on the surface. I tell myself this strange person I am is the thing keeping us apart. Every time I think about it I feel awkward and remind myself that if I consider myself to be strange and find it upsetting, then Kaiba can only take it ten times worse.
There are different ways he could take the horrible news. For example, if I showed him y old letters to no-one. How would he react? Silence is possible, a long brooding quiet and lack of connection with an unclear outcome. He could also hear me out with amusement and torture me with sarcasm and jokes on the letters. I cannot imagine anyone taking the information seriously. It's too unusual for that kind of response.
I'm deciding to still not tell him. This skeleton stays in its closet, and I have to leave before I stutter my words.
"Well, thanks for the help, Kaiba. I'll go home and work on it," I begin to excuse myself, collecting all the books and stuffing them all into my bag.
Kaiba looks at me as though wondering what he's done to invoke such a hasty departure. I try to explain myself, but it doesn't make sense. I end up sounding vague and not at all reassuring.
"I, uh, I gotta go."
I quickly grab my bag and exit the room, leaving Kaiba hurt and confused.
Sorry, Seto. I'm sorry.
"Haptics training with virtual simulation and of touch is increasing in popularity. This technology allows easier training of assembly line workers, surgeons, and aids in physical rehabilitation. Recent advancements have been…."
I take the remote and turn the television off. My apartment suddenly becomes quiet and lonelier. The air conditioner makes a vain attempt to disrupt the silence, but quickly becomes background. I mentally applaud the effort and lean back into the couch to sleep. I have failed to even take my homework out of my bag to finish it, choosing instead to sleep on the couch until I feel like putting my random thoughts to facts.
In my lap are all the letters I've written. I've been going through them and trying to demean their purpose. Maybe it would make sense if I burned them? Some funerals did that--burned paper chairs, beds, and such--a tradition much less costly than the Egyptians locking necessary afterlife treasures in tombs. Maybe subconsciously I had been planning to do just? I'd need some kind of shrine though, and I don't really know where to go or what to do when I get there. I'm not deeply religious. I will be someday, when I'm old, just not right now. I respect the practice, but you aren't going to find a tokonoma around my father's house, as he doesn't really care. I'd have to go out publicly to set fire to the papers, and I don't like that idea. Maybe letting them yellow and rot away will work? That seems to be what I'm doing.
The air conditioner sputters rudely at this and I agree. No, that isn't going to work.
(One word: Trashcan.)
I'm mortified by the spirit's suggestion. I am not throwing them out!
The spirit doesn't say anything else and leaves me alone. I don't know what's worse, being by myself or listening to my other self.
I look back down at my papers and shuffle everything back together. I put them in their box and take it all back to my room to decompose under my bed. I don't care if Otogi and Yuugi know it's there. I'm not going to run off and flaunt the writing, but I'm not going expect anyone to be clueless on it anymore. Who knows how well Yuugi and Otogi keep secrets?
I enter the front room again in time to hear someone knocking at the door. I sigh. Otogi would be one to show up without invitation. Still, I've admitted that his company is better than being alone all the time.
I open the door to discover not Otogi, but Kaiba looking back down at me.
"K-Kaiba, what is it?" I ask, trying to recover, "I mean, come in."
I step back and usher him into the room. I wait timidly for him to tell me why he's here.
"You left this." Kaiba holds up my physics workbook, "You haven't finished." (A)
I nod and he places the workbook on the table, making to leave immediately after. I suddenly feel I shouldn't let him. I always do when Kaiba goes, but usually end up watching his back before the door closes. Suddenly this tragic emotion has bribed my voice to heed it.
"Wait," I call and Kaiba patiently stops and turns around to see what I want.
"What?" he asks. He probably hoped to come over, drop my book off, and leave without any commotion. Now he's hopeful and waiting but I'm too busy gapping like a fish to swallow back my words. I notice him frown slightly and faintly motion at the door like I'm wasting his time.
"I'm going to go now," he tells me and words finally find a way out of my mouth at the sound of his voice.
"No, it just that…" I start. I have no end. He might as well walk out now while he's got the chance, before I say anything I'll regret later. Letters addressed to dead realtives flutter across my mind.
"All right, it's not important. You can go," I finally gain control of my voice. My heart is busy screaming at me.
You come close to a confession and suddenly, "it's not important"! What kind of baka are you, Bakura Ryou? What do you mean "it's not that important"? Argh! You're impossible!
I wince at the voice I just made up. My other self just wasn't enough; now I make my own voices.
I watch Kaiba turn and go. I clench my teeth to keep my mouth from saying anything. I have to remain in control of myself.
"Kaiba, you are not going anywhere until you help me understand just what is going on here."
My eyes widen at this before I realize it wasn't me. Standing at the door to the game room is Otogi. I really need to lock that door.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I blurt out in shock. I half expect Yuugi to jump from the closet, Jounouchi and Honda crawling under the couch, and Anzu walking out of the kitchen. I don't want to have a jury here.
"I was playing spider solitaire on the computer and couldn't help but overhear--"
I'm feeling a bit dizzy and completely uncoordinated. "How long have you been there?" I find myself asking, sounding a bit more hysterical than is truly necessary. "And spider solitaire? What, was the original not good enough for you? What's wrong with you?"
The mutual feeling of shock at my randomness is so obvious that instead of being embarrassed, I'm looking at myself asking just what is wrong with that poor white haired boy in the middle of the room. Maybe he needs a few more hours of sleep and a little less caffeine.
"What's wrong with you?" Otogi asks, turning my own question against me, "You don't have original solitaire on your computer anyway, so don't you go off about that."
Poor Kaiba. He's stuck having to watch this pathetic display of two people who know each other so well it's rotting into discontent. He's probably wishing he left the first time around and pretend not to hear me in classic Kaiba manner.
"What's up with you and Kaiba anyway? That's what I came out to ask. If I had known you where going to just attack me, though, I would have stayed in the game room."
"You shouldn't even be here!" I exclaim. Otogi frowns and reaches into is pocket.
"Fine then," he says after a hesitant silence, "I can give you my key back so you don't have to worry about it."
I feel my stomach sink at Ryuuji's words. There's something horrible about him letting me have the key. I feel guilty.
"No, it's yours."
Otogi places the key down.
"Otogi…" I plea.
Kaiba, who hasn't been saying anything for the past few minutes, glares at Otogi.
"Otogi, take the key," he suddenly orders. My head twirls in confusion. Otogi is now going to talk to Kaiba and say something dreadful like before. He's going to embarrass me in my own apartment because I'm too noble to let him give up one of five matching keys to a door that, with the right force applied by someone that desperate to get in, doesn't really even need one.
"Why, Kaiba? What concern is it of yours?"
Kaiba gives Otogi a death glare, causing me to wince while hardly affecting the recipient. Maybe I'm empathetic and Otogi mentally cringed, willing to give up and just take the stupid, meaningless little key.
Please let that be it.
"Sorry, didn't catch that Kaiba. You'll have to speak up."
Kaiba's glare doesn't falter. Maybe he just sleeps angrily with his eyes open or something?
(You know what… I'm not going to say anything about that.)
The ability to rationalize escapes me.
"I said for you to take the key, baka," Kaiba snaps, annoyed with Otogi and showing it so much better then I ever could.
"Why? Are you not happy I'm defying Bakura?" Otogi asks. I feel the sudden urge to strangle him or turn myself into an ottoman and act like I'm not here.
Unfortunately, I'm not capable of either.
I might be able to skip to the kitchen and make some popcorn. But then, who eats popcorn during a violent, gory movie? Kaiba is obviously going to kill Otogi before he leaves.
And I'll just be here: breathing, watching, waiting--passing out (hopefully).
"That really isn't any of your business," Kaiba growls.
"Nor is this key yours," Otogi comes right back.
"It is if I feel like resolving this."
Otogi smirks at Kaiba and I consider how dramatic me dying right now would be. What if I were to collapse for some reason or another? Ryou Bakura just promptly faints away into a ten-year coma.
Heh, I should be so lucky.
(That could be arranged…)
Never mind. I take that back. I want to stay conscious, thank you.
"And what if I choose not to listen to you?"
I sigh at how this conversation (potential argument from Hell) is turning out. How long is Otogi going to defy Kaiba? How long is Kaiba planning to be patient before somehow forcing Otogi to take the key? I realize I'm eventually going to have to intervene before my front room becomes a crime scene for the homicide department.
"Kaiba," I address, trying to keep my voice as still as possible, "Do you really want Otogi to keep the key?"
Kaiba nods, still glaring at Otogi. I walk over nervously and tap him on the shoulder. I like to know I have complete attention turned to me when I'm talking, even if it tends not to aid my confidence.
"Kaiba?" To my surprise, he turns his glare off of Otogi and looks at me. I feel my courage threatening to drop and dissipate.
"What?"
I quickly compose something to say, "It's a key, does it really matter? Don't get mad at Otogi, he's--um--difficult."
Otogi smirks at this and how serious I am sounding. I follow Kaiba's example and throw him a quick glared.
"See? He'll come and steal it back later because he likes to break in an annoy me all day. It's nothing."
Kaiba looks at Otogi once more and nods. For some reason, Otogi finds this hilarious.
"Awe, you two make such a nice couple."
That's it, arrest me now--I'm going to kill Otogi….
"Bakura." My murderous advanced towards Otogi is halted by someone's hand on my arm--more specifically, Kaiba's hand on my arm. I stop and turn around.
"You're right, he's difficult. You should probably take your own advice."
I blushed and nod, "Heh, yeah…." Otogi will die.
"In fact, you don't have to talk to him," Kaiba says, looking coldly up at Otogi. "Let's go."
I pause for a few seconds, unsure of what I'm hearing. Kaiba, who was perfectly willing to make himself scarce ten minutes ago, is now offering we both leave. I look at Otogi who is wearing his smug smirk. Something is working out exactly as he wants it and I'm not completely sure what.
"C'mon," Kaiba ushers me towards the door, shooting a final accusing glare at Otogi. I'm too far in shock to be resisting and can only look on as I leave the apartment. The notion Otogi is going to burn the building down all by himself snatches at my thoughts. I knock it back and put in the correction. Otogi is too mature to play with the stove.
…And suddenly I'm feeling vindictive and doubting this.
My mind, busy in a netherworld of reality and escape where I can't control it, finally decides to descend back to reality as I'm outside the apartment. I suddenly wonder just what I'm doing here.
"What do you want, Kaiba?"
Kaiba shrugs as he answers my question.
"I don't know. Talk, Bakura; tell me about what you think about the things I never notice. Ask me about double doors, floor tiles, or the answer to problem 1a in calculus."
That is the most absurd, pointless thing I've ever heard come out of Seto Kaiba's mouth.
"Why?" My mind, which for a while was her, in reality, now things Kaiba was abducted by aliens.
"I like you saying that."
I try and fail to calculate the reason here. I optimistically try again. Same results.
"I don't understand. That's all nonsense."
"But it's interesting nonsense."
I stop and consider what to say, looking up at Kaiba and letting my confusion run my mouth.
"Okay, here's a thought: You're acting weird."
"Heh, sorry. I just want to hear your odd little observations. I find it appealing."
I sadly don't agree. It's pathetic. Am I sort of a jester to King Kaiba?
"I'm a crazy."
Kaiba actually has the audacity to nod at this and shrug. "You are crazy, but you're amusing. Everything annoys you in its own little way and it's damn hilarious. I like it. It's not like everyone else. Nothing seems to stay inside you for very long. All the people I'm faced with day by day are official and brusquely nervous over every minute detail. They're boring."
"I'm still an idiot."
"No you're not. I know true idiots and you don't qualify." Kaiba states this with a severe note in his tone. Usually I'd say he's lying to himself.
"You're lying."
"What if I am?" Again with the audacity of a shrug. If I'm useful for anything, it's a shoulder work out.
Up, down; one two; shrug.
"Uh-huh…."
"Bakura, if you aren't going to let yourself want me, the least you can do is talk to me."
This is just the electrifying statement needed to charge my brain-train back to reality. That's sarcasm. I'm suddenly lost hopelessly.
"Kaiba…."
"Please? I'm asking you nicely enough, aren't I?"
Yes, yes you are, Kaiba. Thanks, but I'm much too busy trying to ignore my feelings for you that tend to speak up loudest when you are around. Come back later, take your time, and just hope I don't accidentally walk in front of a bus unawares whilst so preoccupied...
"I don't know what to tell you." I say this in complete truth. When someone orders 'speak,' my most formidable reply is 'what!?'. I really have no clue and coming up with something is difficult.
"Say something, Bakura."
"What?"
"Anything.
"Uh…. The sky is more gray than blue today."
"Whatever's on your mind is a start." Kaiba answers, waiting patiently. If I had my way I'd be vanishing right now, or throwing puzzle pieces at Kaiba. A jigsaw is probably some deep representation of my psyche and my jumble emotions for the past few weeks. He can go through and try to put it together, but don't expect much. I've been trying this my entire life.
"Er…." I realize faintly I must have just lost my mind. If you live in your head long enough, eventually you'll make your own world and happily whisk yourself away into it at inopportune moments when things get difficult. I shouldn't let that happen right now. I shouldn't.
"We should keep walking, there's nothing inspiring around here. I see this street everyday on the way to school."
Kaiba nods at the statement and the surprising amount of rationality I've just displayed in audible speech. I know, I'm also impressed. We continue down until the park is in sight. I remember I slept here.
"Have you ever had a strange dream?" I ask finally with my new courage founded on nothing.
"No, nothing particularly interesting," Kaiba answers flatly, boringly. It's predicable. I could have bet on the answer.
"Really?" I don't intend for there to be sarcasm in my tone. "Well, I have. All about lobsters and different things. It's really crazy."
Kaiba nods. "I don't think dreams are supposed to make sense, or mean anything."
"I didn't say I did either," I defend for no real reason, "Déjà vu is just some kind of mental reaction people have, and it all really doesn't mean anything. I try not to look at dreams like premonitions." (B)
"Congratulations."
I frown at my efforts. "You could sound less interested."
"Maybe."
So much for be interesting. He was lying. King Kaiba's jester is failing him now terribly. The only thing I'm good for now is a public execution. Crowds love those.
I sigh and look the other way. Across the street there's a restaurant. I let my attention fall on the signs advertising the names of foods I've never seen before.
This blew up, didn't it? Kaiba wanted me to talk and now I'm ashamed. I sound like some kind of imbecile rambling on about dreams and my opinion covering them. It may even look a bit self-centered. It's almost like I'm stating that though I have dreams just as confusing as everyone else's, I'm above thinking too much of them. Maybe it's a form of bragging? It would be sad if I felt I needed to raise myself up in Kaiba's presence. Like it's even possible anyways….
"Do you have any idea what an enchilada is?"
"Why?" Kaiba asks.
"That restaurant is advertising enchiladas."
"I think it's a cheese thing, some kind of taco. It's Mexican."
"I know that."
I walk towards the restaurant and Kaiba follows. We're soon reading the windows, and even Kaiba looks a bit clueless on the food they serve.
"I can't pronounce half all that," I mutter in awe. Kaiba murmurs a few of the more foreign pronunciations slowly. I listen and figure he's encountered the language before. That, or he could be saying everything entirely wrong and I'm unaware because I don't speak enough to know better.
"It's difficult to say that right; en-chi-la-da," Kaiba suddenly admits. I follow his lead and discover what I'm saving sounds like itchy-da-da and noticeably wrong.
"It's more like 'en-chi-latha'."
" 'In-chiii--lada'."
"Speed up the 'chi' a bit, Ryou."
We coach each other over the words for the next ten minutes. The two of us must look like complete idiots, but it beats the silence. Finally we both give up and turn around. I'm suddenly more relaxed than before, probably relieved at the fact Kaiba can stand in front of a Mexican restaurant for ten minutes trying to pronounce the day specials. It makes him seem more human and maybe a bit closer to equally insane.
"You have to use your tongue more, Bakura-san. Western languages don't have pitches and are slower."
"Too slow."
"Listening to a lecture in English is boring. Spanish is quicker though."
"Then we're not alone."
"Yes, but Spanish requires a person to roll their r's to some extent."
"How do you know?"
"I took English and it has Spanish words."
"I took English too, it's sort of required."
"Well," Seto sighs, looking for an example. "The Spanish word for car."
"What about it?"
"In English you have the car, in Spanish you have el carro. You roll your r's at the "rr". It sounds better than 'car-oh'."
"El carwgh-o?" I attempt and fail. Kaiba smirks as I just got spit all over my face. "Okay, Sensei, how do you roll your r's?"
"Put the tip of your tongue on the roof of your mouth beneath the hard palate and…."
Wherever, whatever the 'hard palate' is: He's lost me. I have no idea what he's taking about. My intelligence fails at the anatomy of the mouth.
"Now try."
"I can't do it," I shake my head, admitting defeat and not bothering to try, "I just won't speak Spanish."
"You could say coche instead, like in the Castilian Spanish."
"No. I just lost my faith in all of it."
Kaiba can only sigh at how easily I give up. It's typical, though, isn't it? Bakura hardly tries. He hardly needs to. In fact, he hardly wants to.
"So, why's Otogi got a key to your place?" Kaiba asks as we round back towards the apartment. I can see in his expression that this menial fact has been giving him trouble.
"My dear Kaiba-san, is that jealously I see in your eyes?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"Don't try to read people. You're terrible at it."
Believe it or not, that sounds like something Kaiba would say if I were able to raise the proper amount of voice. He's glaring at the building as we get near and I feel an explanation is required.
"I have so many keys and it's not like he's going to burn the place down, Kaiba. He's just free to visit when he likes. I have nothing to hide from my friends."
"You're both good friends, right?" he asks flatly, still glaring at the building. This mood swing is distressing. I imagine he sees a certain dark-haired dice player in his vision.
"Yeah, we talk a lot," I shrug, hoping the casual attitude will bounce back to Kaiba and lessen whatever stress has made itself apparent.
"You two must be close…."
It took long enough, but I finally realize just what Kaiba's saying. He thinks there's something between me and Otogi--of all people! I'd laugh if he weren't so dead serious. Didn't I already explain that to him a long time ago, when we thought he liked Yuugi and I was an accessory in some win-over scheme?
"No, Kaiba! It isn't like that," I quickly jump to explain, "Really, we're just friends. Honest. I told you before."
In his own emotionless way, Kaiba looks a bit relieved. I feel likewise for some odd reason. We approach the building sans his glare. It's a good thing too, as I'm quite sure such a dark look would have destroyed my entire floor. I'm glad Kaiba doesn't have laser eyes, although it would have burned those letters up to ashes and gotten rid of them.
"You can have a key, if you want," I suddenly offer, "I have three. That's more than enough."
Kaiba looks a bit taken aback by my burst of generosity. I reach into my pocket and pull out my current key.
"I've been using this one for months, but you don't have to give it back unless I move or something. Of course, I'll have to unlock the door before it's officially yours as I doubt Otogi stayed to wait out our walk."
Kaiba still looks unsure as we climb the stairs. Frankly, I'm taking everything with a new sense of optimism. I always retreat to my happy-go-lucky mood when I have nothing left. Otogi's key bothered Kaiba, well fine; he can have one too. They're equal now.
I unlock the door and walk into the apartment, taking my shoes off and holding the shiny metal key out to Kaiba. He reaches for it and clasps my hand for a moment. I look up, surprised. There's an odd expression in his eyes. It's on the line of wistful (however wistful Kaiba could ever be) but melancholy, which is usual for him. My guilt seeps in and I look away, knowing perfectly well it's my fault.
"Thank you," Kaiba thanks with an unusual amount of sincerity before pulling his hand away and taking the key with it.
"Oh…don't mention it…" I stammer foolishly, wondering I could make myself the model of politeness all over again. Then I could ignore the new thoughts assaulting my mind. The poor little commander in charge now is trying desperately to keep emotions from knocking down the titanium-enforced door to his control station.
This mental skit leaves me feeling a bit embarrassed; perfectly certain Kaiba saw every detail through my eyes. Oh yes, the traitorous eyes that have somehow found themselves back in Kaiba's. They are terrible. In fact, Yuugi did say you could read others that way, even Kaiba to an extent. All those poor people out there, victims to the unintentional expressions reflecting what they see and think; I sympathize with them all.
"Ehem," Kaiba quickly breaks whatever just happened. I've heard a lot can be revealed and explained through eye contact. Kaiba must have too; he's nervous I'll catch something. Hell, I'm nervous I'll catch something. There is a plethora of evidence telling me I've been an idiot for the past few weeks, and I don't need to be forced with any more--please.
Kaiba turns to leave. Once again something stops him, only this time it isn't me.
"We should meet again later," he suddenly tells me. Amazingly enough, I find I agree.
"Sure, that'd be nice."
Kaiba nods at my answer and continues to leave. I see him pocket the key before the door closes.
I feel like I've gone back to square one with this, I really do.
We should meet again later.
Perhaps, Seto. Maybe this can work. Maybe I can at least pretend it does. In the end we can only try, without any sort of plan or warning about what will happen.
Notes:
A: Physics notebooks…. Teachers don't like grading them, so why do they bother?
B: Déjà vu really isn't all that amazing when you understand how it works out in your brain. Same for great intuition.
Afterword:
Ryou: You call that an ending?
Seto: What was that?
I know. I know. Just wait. I'll…do something…someday….
SOMETHING, SOMEDAY, APRIL 2008:
Uh. I edited the entire fic some from the original. Why? Finals suck and so I needed something better to do than study.
The chapter seventeen I mention is gone because my computer crashed about two years ago and I never bothered to mention it.
Uh. I'm planning to set a sequel six or seven years in the future. I'm sure all this time will only make the sequel seem that much more realistic. Yes. YOU, reader, have been questioning and wondering over Seto and Ryou for the past four-years-short-of-a-decade, just as Seto and Ryou have.
I could ramble in a long retrospective about the six years since I wrote this fic, but I'm not really that nostalgic. Life went on, and, sadly, I got no taller. That's it. I wonder if the fact that this fic mentions a VCR dates it? Ipods didn't exist when this was written, people. Ipods. I rocked out to a CD player while writing.
I still listen to all the same music, though. Win. Years do not change me too much.