Yami: Hello, we're back!
*audience groans* *Yami growls intimidatingly*
Man from audience: Aw, shuddup ya stupid-
*Yami promptly kills him with his knives*
Yami: Let's try this again. *props two knives so that they are pointing directly at the audience* Hello, we're back!!
*Audience claps and roars and cheers*
Hikari: ^_^ My Yami is SO cool!!!! *is holding up a sign that reads: 'Cheer or We Might Be Forced to Destroy You'
Yami: Much better. When we last left off, we were introduced to stupid little Celena Schezar, who cannot seem to appreciate the true values of fire-
*Hikari grabs Yami around the middle and tosses him into a corner, where Dilandau is waiting, flamethrower in tow. Sounds of combat and yelling are heard, not the mention the acrid smell of burning curtains and clothing and skin*
Hikari: Ahem! When we last left off, we met Celena Schezar, a soft-spoken teenager with two major problems! Her brother and an alter ego!
Yami *muffled*: NO, JUST THE BROTHER! AN ALTER EGO IS A *GOOD* THING!!!!!!!!!!!
Dilandau *also muffled*: TAKE THAT, YOU @*!&%~@&*%*!!!!!!!!!!!! AH, YES!! DIE, ALLEN, DIE!!!!!!!!!
Hikari: ^_^ Aw, they're so energetic!!!! ^_^
*Yami and Dilandau pause from fighting* : -_-''''''''
*resume trying to destroy each other*
Hikari: But the biggest problem has now arisen! Celena Schezar must attend a lunch with Mr. Aston and his daughter, Millerna, and Celena's older brother, Allen! *sigh* Such a shame to be related to such a !(#%)(#%!@!!!!!! ^_^ *smiles while uttering harsh profanity*
*Firefighters are being called in, audience hears sirens*
Hikari: As you may be aware by now, this story contains much profanity!!! In fact, we are using words we didn't even know existed!! We are also going to use words such as sh-t, d-mn, f- -k, h-ll, and b-t-ch! ^_^ Simply because our dear Yami, Dilandau, loves to curse!!! And also because we're too lazy to come up with some new Gaean-style cursing!
*the entire stage is now afire. In the distance, Dilandau is laughing and howling for more fire*
Hikari: And, finally-
Dilly: WE DO NOT- *is tackled by Yami*
Yami: OWN- *is tackled by Dilly*
Dilly: ANY YU-GI-OH! IDEAS- *is tackled by Yami*
Yami: OR CONCEPTS- *is tackled by Dilly*
Dilly: AND WE ALSO- *is tackled by Yami*
Yami: DON'T OWN- *is tackled by Dilly*
Dilly: ES- *tackled*
Yami: ESCA- *also tackled*
*Yami and Dilly are both tackling each other so one of them can have the last word of the disclaimer*
Hikari: ^_^ ESCAFLOWNEEEUNGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*both Yami and Dilly jump on her*
Chapter II The End of the World (A/N: in which the author states her views on the concept of "love" in an attempt at humor)
It's difficult trying to pretend you don't care about people. You don't have to take my word for it. . .or. . .you can. What I'm trying to say is, this isn't a sort of you-don't-know-what-you've-lost-until-it's- gone thing where you really aren't sure you even liked that person or item until it really does vanish. I'm leaning more toward you-know-you-care- about-this-person-but-bury-exactly-what-you're-feeling thing. It's also difficult trying to put this into words, and I'm trying the best I can.
Take my Yami as an example. His feelings are very complex. While he's conscious or sober, as far as I can tell, he's constantly threatening myself and my remaining family members with painful and prolonged death by slow roasting. But when he's sleeping, drunk, or somewhat dazed, he really is sweet. To provide further examples of this, we'll take the time he came back from his little world known as Gaea so worn out and ill he couldn't phase out of his solid form.
I don't know exactly what happened in Gaea, but I knew something *had* happened, because he kept crashing into walls and yelling hoarsely that my bed was dodging. It's a good thing I was the only one home that night, or things might not have ended so well. I was trying to help him collapse onto my bed when he tripped and ended up on top of me, but was too tired to notice. Let's just say I noticed, okay? I noticed a lot.
My Yami, eyes shut, was mumbling his native Gaean into the skin just above my collar bone. His breath was warm and he was. . .well. . .kind of comfortable. . .
"Win dain. . .a lotica. . .Envai tu ri. . .Si lo ta. . .Fin dein. . .a loluca. . .en dragu a. . .sei lain. . .Vi fa-ru. . .les shutai am. . .en riga-lint. . .Win chent. . .a lotica. . .en vai turi. . .Silota. . .Fin dein. . .a loluca. . . . .Si katigura. . .neuver. . .floreria. . .for chesti. . .si entina. . .mmm. . .Celena. . ."
I don't think he understood a thing I was screaming at him (a good thing, too, or he'd've killed me), but he did smile very sweetly when I at last managed to stand and went to get him a box of tissues and some tea for his sore throat, and told him to get better or else.
I don't know what my Yami thinks about me. Sometimes I'd rather not know. Sometimes I want to. Like earlier, when I wasn't sure what he was going to do to me. Kill. . .or. . .even scarier. . .k-k-kiss. . .?
And then there's the time he stopped me from killing myself. He shouted at me for a little, but when he was ranting about decapitating me if I ever tried that again, he was blushing and wouldn't look at me.
The warmth of sunlight hits me like a slap to the face. What am I doing near the front door. . .? Why am I hiding behind Allen. . .? And what am I wearing again. . .? Why are my feet bare. . .? Why am I wearing a belt buckle around my neck. . .? Why do I even allow my Yami to view shows like Yu-Gi-Oh!. . .?
Allen opens the door, and the sun is blotted out by an enormous beast.
//AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!// I send up a mental screech that startles a similar yelp from my Yami.
And what the HELL is that?!?!?!?!??!
I'm being crushed. . .! //DILLY!!! TASUKETE!!!!!!// I wail. The flabby but iron vice grip of the clamps tightens and a huge, booming voice ruptures my eardrums with a "Why, Allen! You look like you've shrunk!!!"
//Can't. Breathe!//
//Weakling,// scoffs my Yami, but I hear with some satisfaction that he, too, is slightly short of breath.
//YAAAAAAMIIIIIII!!!!!! HELP!!!!// I cry. //I'm suffocating!!!!//
Air. . .! My arms are pinned to my sides and I. Can't. Breathe!! Must get air. Somehow. . .! Need. . .air. . .!
One steel pole lifts and I force as much beautiful, beautiful oxygen into my flattened lungs as possible, my chest heaving. It's like when astronauts come back to earth and start kissing the ground. That sort of appreciation. Here's a good example of you-don't-know-what-you've-lost- until-it's-gone. In my case, it would be air. In the case of the astronauts, it would be gravity. Or, solid soil beneath their feet.
The pole is pointing at my brother while the other continues to squeeze and the thunder continues.
"Your sister's taller than you are, Allen Schezar!!"
There's a grating giggle from behind, a giggle that grinds through my ears like a jagged saw. Instant headache. As if I haven't already suffered enough.
"Dad, that's Allen!" the owner of the annoying giggles says quickly, gesturing at my brother. "This is his sister, Celena."
Get. The. Hell. OFF. Me!!
The other arm lets go, too. I slump over the coat rack, coughing and trying to breathe. Hesitantly, I rub my sides to assess damage. No broken ribs. Lots of bruises. I look up at the massive robot with the huge arms.
It's Mr. Aston.
And. . .no. . .! It can't be! That. . .that-that thing. . .!
I try to bolt, but Allen catches me by the belt buckle and pulls me back, all the while smiling at-at-at it.
"Hey, Milly," he says, beaming. She smiles at him and continues to giggle in that horrible, ear-splittingly high-pitched tone. I've yanked loose of my brother's grip and am now standing beside him, grinning falsely and nodding at every damned thing the creatures say, secretly wishing to cover my ears with both hands and run as far away as possible. Like the next block. Or city. Or country. Or even continent, if I'm feeling energetic.
//YAMI!!!!//
And do you know what my Yami is doing right now?
He's sleeping.
Gods, I wish I had his discipline.
YAMIv.s.HIKARI
The Astons made no comment about my apparel, though Mr. Aston did give me a disapproving glare.
Mr. Aston's glare is n-o-t-h-i-n-g compared to Dilly's. And if I can ignore Dilly's glaring, I can most certainly ignore his.
I send what I hope is my most glacial frown over the tip of my nose at him.
Allen's trying his best to tell Mr. Aston about this restaurant he's going to be taking us to. We don't have a car. Which means corpulent, pudgy Mr. Aston is going to have to waddle over on the sidewalk along all the little common people.
I smile at this. There are more weirdly dressed people in Tokyo than I. And Mr. Aston will be quite a crowd-parter. So I won't be shoved around as much as usual.
Of course, Dilly usually makes sure that *I'm* the one doing the shoving in a big crowd. Or, he phases in and pushes past for me. He seems to get a sick thrill out of tripping people. Or punching them. Or. . .
I remember the time I was sick with a really bad bug and my Yami stood beside me, patted my back, and brought me water as I puked out what remained of my insides over the ivory toilet bowl in my room. The first time I threw up, it was all over my bed.
And him.
I can't exactly recall what he screamed at me. I just know it was bad. But, all the same, he helped me to the bathroom and waited with me until Allen came home to take me to the hospital.
In his own strange, twisted way, I think my Yami actually cares about me.
//Dilly. . .//
He's still sleeping. While it is more tranquil when my Yami isn't awake and yelling, I kinda miss his voice right now. We could be teasing that fat old-er, excuse me-Mr. Aston-in our thoughts and no one would know but us. And Millerna. Ugh. What a fitting name for such a terrible being. She's got a laugh like a banshee's wail. If she laughs like that, can you imagine how she sounds when she's screaming? The sound cannot be described. (Just so you know; I had to sit next to her on a roller coaster when I was very young. I don't think I've ever recovered.)
I somehow just can't imagine her being my sister-in-law, though this very well may be the case in the near future. Allen's completely taken with her.
What do they say about birds of a feather. . .?
Somehow, I just can't see my brother and Millerna living in the same house. At least, not with me. Or my Yami.
. . .Millerna and my Yami.
. . .together.
. . .and in the same house.
I don't know if I'm going to laugh or cry at this point. But I do know that if my brother and that-that thing get married, I'm finding an apartment and getting myself and my Yami as fast away as I can on two feet. Or on a subway.
I might even leave my Yami here, come to think of it. . .
Nah. No one, not even my Yami, deserves a fate like that.
YAMIv.s.HIKARI
//Yami. . .?// I extend the probe hesitantly and withdraw it hastily when there is no reply. The last thing I need is a cranky Yami hounding me about disturbing his so-called 'beauty sleep.'
If I wanted to, I could see his dreams. I wonder if he looks at mine. . .? I guess it doesn't matter. I don't dream about anything that would embarrass me. I've always speculated about what my Yami dreams of. I mean, what would a one thousand plus ancient evil spirit from another dimensional plane dream of? Nothing I, as a mere mortal, could probably ever even begin the fathom.
Poor Dilly. Sometimes he has nightmares that wake me up. I can't see them, but I can feel his anger, his hurt. . .and sometimes, his fear. Those dreams are usually a blur of red, with sounds of battle, and I can hear Dilandau every now and then, yelling at the soldiers under his command.
". . .Chesta!!! Where the hell is my wine?!? Get over here!!!"
The vengeful shout tears through my mind and for a moment, all I can see is red, and the thrill of the hunt carries through in his heightened emotional state.
Dilandau must be having bad dreams again. . .
//Dilly. . .//
"SHI NE!!!!!" Extreme hatred.
". . .Chesta. . .? Dalet. . .? Miguel. . .? Doko da. . .?" Confusion. Sadness. Something he can't seem to comprehend has just happened to his soldiers. . .and he's searching for them. . .there is much pain burrowed here. . .shadows looming and the blood is still falling, but he isn't finding joy in it anymore. . .he wants it to stop so he can find them. . .
//Dilly. . .please wake up. . .//
Too many raw emotions are flooding at once.
". . .Um. . .Onii-sama. . .I'm not feeling very hungry," I mumble, standing up in my chair. I suddenly realize we've already entered the restaurant while I was dreaming along with my Yami. "Is it alright if I wait outside? Please?"
"Cele-" he begins, but he takes one look at me and nods. "I'll save you something to eat, okay?" he says. Maybe he wants his gang member-like sister as far away from his future fiancee, or maybe he's worried for me. I don't care. I just want to get as far away as I can.
You know. Trying to save the world is difficult when you have an evil alter ego in tow. But that's not the point. I'm not trying to save the world. Not yet.
There's a children's playground just across the busy intersection. I'm sitting down on a swing before I understand where I am. Slowly, I push myself back and forth on hot pavement with my sandals.
//Dilly. . .I can't stand to see you like this. . .//
I guess it's my part to care about my Yami. The gentle Hikari, all that. I'm supposed to be sweet and thoughtful, kind, etc. Even if it is to the more evil half that possesses part of my mind.
The swing picks up speed, and soon, my feet are off the ground and cool spring air is braiding itself through my hair like an invisible ribbon of comfort.
Now all I need is Dilandau's arm wrapped around me. . .???
. . .now where did that thought come from?. . .
I look at my feet, blushing.
I can see us sitting on a large blue swing together; I'm holding the right chain and Dilandau has the left one, and his right arm is resting comfortably on my shoulder. . .and he's playing with my hair, twisting it in silver bunches around his fingers. . .
I open my eyes with some surprise. I hadn't realized I had closed them while dreaming these fanciful daydreams. My Yami would never wrap his arm around me unless he really was carrying out his threats of strangulation. As I open them, I notice a young couple nearby. Talk about conveniently there.
I can't see their faces, but I do notice that they do not look at each other while they shyly hold hands, and are instead staring ahead. The boy has black hair and the girl brown, and their short hair flutters softly in the wind, meshing together. They look like they've just gotten out of a school program; both are dressed in navy blue uniforms. As I watch, the boy tightens his grip on the girl's hand and she, in turn, leans her head on his shoulder. (A/N: Van and Hitomi!!! Awww!!!!! ^_^)
I've never actually understood what people meant by 'they fit together.' I don't think I ever will. But this couple walking across the pathway in the park-I think they meet that sort of description as 'fitting together.' Because they're perfect for each other, and both look content, safe.
People don't understand what love really is. They can compare it to ownership-phrases such as 'Be Mine,' 'Yours forever,' etc.-or spring, and candy, and pretty but perishable things like flowers-'Our love blossoms'- but I would like to think of it as a sort of agreement and a mutual feeling of being accepted, a love that lasts forever, but no one tries to own the other. Because, in reality, what exactly is love? An idea created, molded, shaped by the idiots who try to market Valentine's Day products? I believe this is what the idea of love has become, a mere commercial for chocolates, diamonds, flowers, and the traditional markers of affection.
I mean, if love can be eaten like chocolates, who says it will last? And diamonds. A man may admire the cold, beautiful features of a diamond, but he will never love it. Flowers are vibrant while they last. But then they will wither and be thrown away. Do you truly wish to compare your love to something that will wilt and be discarded?
Love should be like the ocean, infinite, soft, and deep. Wrapping about you for all eternity, cushioning and protecting. There will be tough times, like a raging storm over the sea and high waves, but then the calm always follows in tranquil sea salt breezes. Oceans are infinite. Well, I'm sure that eventually even the oceans vanish, but you get what I'm trying to say. Right?
I think we're all in love with the concept of being in love. If you will. . .in love with love.
To be frank, the sole purpose of humans mating is to reproduce to ensure that they do not die out. Do animals mate for love, or for survival?
//YAMI! WAKE UP!!!// this time I jump into his mind-room and haul him off his 'bed.' He looks so innocent when he's sleeping, but I do this with no reluctance. I suppose everyone looks innocent when they sleep, even evil pyromaniacs from other dimensions who have to kill at least twenty people before breakfast or they won't be satisfied for the rest of the day.
//What the hell-! DAMMIT!!!!! I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!!!!// he looks around wildly, and the notices me. I see, with much amusement, how his hair is sticking up.
//Oh. It's you.// He curls up and crosses his arms over his knees, paying no more attention to me. I can't see his eyes. For some reason, this makes him seem more lonely than before.
//So. . .did you dream?// I say, sitting down beside him. Usually a comment like "Oh. It's (insert insignificant and little) you." would tick me off, but. . .have I mentioned that my life is not usual?
//Why the hell would you care?// he snaps, and still won't look at me. His fingers tighten their grip around his knees. He knows I've been listening in. I think he's embarrassed, though I can't be sure.
//I don't know, Dilly.//
There's a silence. My mind wanders back to the couple in the park.
//Aibou. . .// he says quietly, finally looking up, //Do you envy them?//
//Huh?// It's my turn to stop watching him and stare, flustered, at my hands. I'd forgotten he could hear everything I thought. //Wh-what makes you say that?//
This is one of the rare moments that my Yami is actually bordering on kind and considerate, but I am really too chagrined to take that much notice. In fact, it would be much better if the evil, evil Dilly returned. You know-the I-love-burning-and-death-and-more-burning-and-I-hate-anything- good kind of evil Dilandau. If he teased me, at least I could return shrapnel. But he's asking. Quietly. Seriously. Calmly, believe it or not.
//Stupid mortal,// he mutters, turning away again. I sag with relief, but only for a moment, because he turns back. //Aibou-I-//
He's blushing furiously. That's almost funny. My Yami. Dilandau. Blushing. It's almost unreal, in fact.
//Yes?//
//Never mind.//
//How many people have you killed, Dilly?// I say, to change the subject and ease the discomforted pause that hangs between us.
//Thousands,// he says offhandedly, wrinkling his brow. His mind is still somewhere else.
//Huh.// There isn't much I can say to this, having never killed anyone before in my life. I don't like it when people talk about death like it's nothing. Death isn't nothing. A life has been snuffed out. As for my Yami. . .I think he kills for sheer fun, or maybe because he's bored.
//I don't know, aibou. Maybe things will change for you. When you. . .get a. . .get a boyfriend or whatever you mortals call them. . .if he hurts you. . .I'll have an excuse the kill him.//
//Dilly. . .people can get in trouble for murdering other people, you know. It's not like where you're from.// I reach for his hand, but when I touch his skin he flinches and pulls away.
//Oh?// he seems mildly interested. //How?//
//For starters, if they catch you, you could be executed.//
//The key word in that sentence is 'if,' aibou.//
//Yes-but still-uh-Dilly-// I stop talking as I notice him gazing intently at me. . .
"ITAI!!" I yell, suddenly kissing the pavement. I pick myself off the ground with another equally loud 'ouch.' Apparently, while I was conversing with my Yami, my hands slipped from the swing and I fell off. Not abnormal. In fact, quite standard. My hands are scraped and one scratch is bleeding a bit, and the cuts start to sting as the air and sweat hits them.
I notice some parents giving me evil glares. I give them the best death glare impression I have, but they've already gone back to their stupid little conversations. I suppose that a lunatic is insignificant in their busy worlds. Dilandau is howling with laughter, which isn't helping at all.
//Fuck you, Dilandau,// I say, surprised at my own daring.
//Ow, that hurt,// he says, obviously unaffected, //straight to the heart.//
I decide to go back to the restaurant. I've nothing to lose. In the back of my head, Dilandau is still humming his song.
//Win dain. . .a lotica. . .Envai tu ri. . .Si lo ta. . .//
Yami: Well. . .? PULEEEEEEAAAAZE REVIEW!!!!! *growls* Or we'll COME AFTER YOU! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
Dilandau: It's BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Not MWA! BWA! LIKE BWAH! (Behwah- hah-hah-hah-hah-hah-hah!!!)
Yami: Next time, on chapt 3! Celena Schezar contemplates her relationship with her Yami as situations worsen-
*Dilandau pounces on him* Dilly: Meaning that she has to go to the mall with Millerna-san WITH her insane Yami-
Yami *after knocking Dilly out of the way* : and, basically, ALL HELL'S GONNA BREAK LOOSE!! MWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!
Dilly: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *stops for air* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *stops for air again* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA *stops for air* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH-and so on.
Hikari: Until Chapter Three!! Buh-bai!! *waves cheerfully* ^_^
PS: My friends Older Sister Pyro and Little Brother Pyro are writing a story that's called something around "Dilandau's Bedtime Tales." Ya might wanna check it out when it comes out!!! ^_^
Which style do you like better?
A) CLAMP
B) Satoshi Urushihara
DBZ
Other
Your own
F) And finally, everyone's favorite. . .yes, he's back! Let's give a big round of applause for YODA, Y-O-D-A, YODA!!!!
*Hikari can be heard singing*
Hikari: Lola, l-o-l-a Lola. . .
*audience groans* *Yami growls intimidatingly*
Man from audience: Aw, shuddup ya stupid-
*Yami promptly kills him with his knives*
Yami: Let's try this again. *props two knives so that they are pointing directly at the audience* Hello, we're back!!
*Audience claps and roars and cheers*
Hikari: ^_^ My Yami is SO cool!!!! *is holding up a sign that reads: 'Cheer or We Might Be Forced to Destroy You'
Yami: Much better. When we last left off, we were introduced to stupid little Celena Schezar, who cannot seem to appreciate the true values of fire-
*Hikari grabs Yami around the middle and tosses him into a corner, where Dilandau is waiting, flamethrower in tow. Sounds of combat and yelling are heard, not the mention the acrid smell of burning curtains and clothing and skin*
Hikari: Ahem! When we last left off, we met Celena Schezar, a soft-spoken teenager with two major problems! Her brother and an alter ego!
Yami *muffled*: NO, JUST THE BROTHER! AN ALTER EGO IS A *GOOD* THING!!!!!!!!!!!
Dilandau *also muffled*: TAKE THAT, YOU @*!&%~@&*%*!!!!!!!!!!!! AH, YES!! DIE, ALLEN, DIE!!!!!!!!!
Hikari: ^_^ Aw, they're so energetic!!!! ^_^
*Yami and Dilandau pause from fighting* : -_-''''''''
*resume trying to destroy each other*
Hikari: But the biggest problem has now arisen! Celena Schezar must attend a lunch with Mr. Aston and his daughter, Millerna, and Celena's older brother, Allen! *sigh* Such a shame to be related to such a !(#%)(#%!@!!!!!! ^_^ *smiles while uttering harsh profanity*
*Firefighters are being called in, audience hears sirens*
Hikari: As you may be aware by now, this story contains much profanity!!! In fact, we are using words we didn't even know existed!! We are also going to use words such as sh-t, d-mn, f- -k, h-ll, and b-t-ch! ^_^ Simply because our dear Yami, Dilandau, loves to curse!!! And also because we're too lazy to come up with some new Gaean-style cursing!
*the entire stage is now afire. In the distance, Dilandau is laughing and howling for more fire*
Hikari: And, finally-
Dilly: WE DO NOT- *is tackled by Yami*
Yami: OWN- *is tackled by Dilly*
Dilly: ANY YU-GI-OH! IDEAS- *is tackled by Yami*
Yami: OR CONCEPTS- *is tackled by Dilly*
Dilly: AND WE ALSO- *is tackled by Yami*
Yami: DON'T OWN- *is tackled by Dilly*
Dilly: ES- *tackled*
Yami: ESCA- *also tackled*
*Yami and Dilly are both tackling each other so one of them can have the last word of the disclaimer*
Hikari: ^_^ ESCAFLOWNEEEUNGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*both Yami and Dilly jump on her*
Chapter II The End of the World (A/N: in which the author states her views on the concept of "love" in an attempt at humor)
It's difficult trying to pretend you don't care about people. You don't have to take my word for it. . .or. . .you can. What I'm trying to say is, this isn't a sort of you-don't-know-what-you've-lost-until-it's- gone thing where you really aren't sure you even liked that person or item until it really does vanish. I'm leaning more toward you-know-you-care- about-this-person-but-bury-exactly-what-you're-feeling thing. It's also difficult trying to put this into words, and I'm trying the best I can.
Take my Yami as an example. His feelings are very complex. While he's conscious or sober, as far as I can tell, he's constantly threatening myself and my remaining family members with painful and prolonged death by slow roasting. But when he's sleeping, drunk, or somewhat dazed, he really is sweet. To provide further examples of this, we'll take the time he came back from his little world known as Gaea so worn out and ill he couldn't phase out of his solid form.
I don't know exactly what happened in Gaea, but I knew something *had* happened, because he kept crashing into walls and yelling hoarsely that my bed was dodging. It's a good thing I was the only one home that night, or things might not have ended so well. I was trying to help him collapse onto my bed when he tripped and ended up on top of me, but was too tired to notice. Let's just say I noticed, okay? I noticed a lot.
My Yami, eyes shut, was mumbling his native Gaean into the skin just above my collar bone. His breath was warm and he was. . .well. . .kind of comfortable. . .
"Win dain. . .a lotica. . .Envai tu ri. . .Si lo ta. . .Fin dein. . .a loluca. . .en dragu a. . .sei lain. . .Vi fa-ru. . .les shutai am. . .en riga-lint. . .Win chent. . .a lotica. . .en vai turi. . .Silota. . .Fin dein. . .a loluca. . . . .Si katigura. . .neuver. . .floreria. . .for chesti. . .si entina. . .mmm. . .Celena. . ."
I don't think he understood a thing I was screaming at him (a good thing, too, or he'd've killed me), but he did smile very sweetly when I at last managed to stand and went to get him a box of tissues and some tea for his sore throat, and told him to get better or else.
I don't know what my Yami thinks about me. Sometimes I'd rather not know. Sometimes I want to. Like earlier, when I wasn't sure what he was going to do to me. Kill. . .or. . .even scarier. . .k-k-kiss. . .?
And then there's the time he stopped me from killing myself. He shouted at me for a little, but when he was ranting about decapitating me if I ever tried that again, he was blushing and wouldn't look at me.
The warmth of sunlight hits me like a slap to the face. What am I doing near the front door. . .? Why am I hiding behind Allen. . .? And what am I wearing again. . .? Why are my feet bare. . .? Why am I wearing a belt buckle around my neck. . .? Why do I even allow my Yami to view shows like Yu-Gi-Oh!. . .?
Allen opens the door, and the sun is blotted out by an enormous beast.
//AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!// I send up a mental screech that startles a similar yelp from my Yami.
And what the HELL is that?!?!?!?!??!
I'm being crushed. . .! //DILLY!!! TASUKETE!!!!!!// I wail. The flabby but iron vice grip of the clamps tightens and a huge, booming voice ruptures my eardrums with a "Why, Allen! You look like you've shrunk!!!"
//Can't. Breathe!//
//Weakling,// scoffs my Yami, but I hear with some satisfaction that he, too, is slightly short of breath.
//YAAAAAAMIIIIIII!!!!!! HELP!!!!// I cry. //I'm suffocating!!!!//
Air. . .! My arms are pinned to my sides and I. Can't. Breathe!! Must get air. Somehow. . .! Need. . .air. . .!
One steel pole lifts and I force as much beautiful, beautiful oxygen into my flattened lungs as possible, my chest heaving. It's like when astronauts come back to earth and start kissing the ground. That sort of appreciation. Here's a good example of you-don't-know-what-you've-lost- until-it's-gone. In my case, it would be air. In the case of the astronauts, it would be gravity. Or, solid soil beneath their feet.
The pole is pointing at my brother while the other continues to squeeze and the thunder continues.
"Your sister's taller than you are, Allen Schezar!!"
There's a grating giggle from behind, a giggle that grinds through my ears like a jagged saw. Instant headache. As if I haven't already suffered enough.
"Dad, that's Allen!" the owner of the annoying giggles says quickly, gesturing at my brother. "This is his sister, Celena."
Get. The. Hell. OFF. Me!!
The other arm lets go, too. I slump over the coat rack, coughing and trying to breathe. Hesitantly, I rub my sides to assess damage. No broken ribs. Lots of bruises. I look up at the massive robot with the huge arms.
It's Mr. Aston.
And. . .no. . .! It can't be! That. . .that-that thing. . .!
I try to bolt, but Allen catches me by the belt buckle and pulls me back, all the while smiling at-at-at it.
"Hey, Milly," he says, beaming. She smiles at him and continues to giggle in that horrible, ear-splittingly high-pitched tone. I've yanked loose of my brother's grip and am now standing beside him, grinning falsely and nodding at every damned thing the creatures say, secretly wishing to cover my ears with both hands and run as far away as possible. Like the next block. Or city. Or country. Or even continent, if I'm feeling energetic.
//YAMI!!!!//
And do you know what my Yami is doing right now?
He's sleeping.
Gods, I wish I had his discipline.
YAMIv.s.HIKARI
The Astons made no comment about my apparel, though Mr. Aston did give me a disapproving glare.
Mr. Aston's glare is n-o-t-h-i-n-g compared to Dilly's. And if I can ignore Dilly's glaring, I can most certainly ignore his.
I send what I hope is my most glacial frown over the tip of my nose at him.
Allen's trying his best to tell Mr. Aston about this restaurant he's going to be taking us to. We don't have a car. Which means corpulent, pudgy Mr. Aston is going to have to waddle over on the sidewalk along all the little common people.
I smile at this. There are more weirdly dressed people in Tokyo than I. And Mr. Aston will be quite a crowd-parter. So I won't be shoved around as much as usual.
Of course, Dilly usually makes sure that *I'm* the one doing the shoving in a big crowd. Or, he phases in and pushes past for me. He seems to get a sick thrill out of tripping people. Or punching them. Or. . .
I remember the time I was sick with a really bad bug and my Yami stood beside me, patted my back, and brought me water as I puked out what remained of my insides over the ivory toilet bowl in my room. The first time I threw up, it was all over my bed.
And him.
I can't exactly recall what he screamed at me. I just know it was bad. But, all the same, he helped me to the bathroom and waited with me until Allen came home to take me to the hospital.
In his own strange, twisted way, I think my Yami actually cares about me.
//Dilly. . .//
He's still sleeping. While it is more tranquil when my Yami isn't awake and yelling, I kinda miss his voice right now. We could be teasing that fat old-er, excuse me-Mr. Aston-in our thoughts and no one would know but us. And Millerna. Ugh. What a fitting name for such a terrible being. She's got a laugh like a banshee's wail. If she laughs like that, can you imagine how she sounds when she's screaming? The sound cannot be described. (Just so you know; I had to sit next to her on a roller coaster when I was very young. I don't think I've ever recovered.)
I somehow just can't imagine her being my sister-in-law, though this very well may be the case in the near future. Allen's completely taken with her.
What do they say about birds of a feather. . .?
Somehow, I just can't see my brother and Millerna living in the same house. At least, not with me. Or my Yami.
. . .Millerna and my Yami.
. . .together.
. . .and in the same house.
I don't know if I'm going to laugh or cry at this point. But I do know that if my brother and that-that thing get married, I'm finding an apartment and getting myself and my Yami as fast away as I can on two feet. Or on a subway.
I might even leave my Yami here, come to think of it. . .
Nah. No one, not even my Yami, deserves a fate like that.
YAMIv.s.HIKARI
//Yami. . .?// I extend the probe hesitantly and withdraw it hastily when there is no reply. The last thing I need is a cranky Yami hounding me about disturbing his so-called 'beauty sleep.'
If I wanted to, I could see his dreams. I wonder if he looks at mine. . .? I guess it doesn't matter. I don't dream about anything that would embarrass me. I've always speculated about what my Yami dreams of. I mean, what would a one thousand plus ancient evil spirit from another dimensional plane dream of? Nothing I, as a mere mortal, could probably ever even begin the fathom.
Poor Dilly. Sometimes he has nightmares that wake me up. I can't see them, but I can feel his anger, his hurt. . .and sometimes, his fear. Those dreams are usually a blur of red, with sounds of battle, and I can hear Dilandau every now and then, yelling at the soldiers under his command.
". . .Chesta!!! Where the hell is my wine?!? Get over here!!!"
The vengeful shout tears through my mind and for a moment, all I can see is red, and the thrill of the hunt carries through in his heightened emotional state.
Dilandau must be having bad dreams again. . .
//Dilly. . .//
"SHI NE!!!!!" Extreme hatred.
". . .Chesta. . .? Dalet. . .? Miguel. . .? Doko da. . .?" Confusion. Sadness. Something he can't seem to comprehend has just happened to his soldiers. . .and he's searching for them. . .there is much pain burrowed here. . .shadows looming and the blood is still falling, but he isn't finding joy in it anymore. . .he wants it to stop so he can find them. . .
//Dilly. . .please wake up. . .//
Too many raw emotions are flooding at once.
". . .Um. . .Onii-sama. . .I'm not feeling very hungry," I mumble, standing up in my chair. I suddenly realize we've already entered the restaurant while I was dreaming along with my Yami. "Is it alright if I wait outside? Please?"
"Cele-" he begins, but he takes one look at me and nods. "I'll save you something to eat, okay?" he says. Maybe he wants his gang member-like sister as far away from his future fiancee, or maybe he's worried for me. I don't care. I just want to get as far away as I can.
You know. Trying to save the world is difficult when you have an evil alter ego in tow. But that's not the point. I'm not trying to save the world. Not yet.
There's a children's playground just across the busy intersection. I'm sitting down on a swing before I understand where I am. Slowly, I push myself back and forth on hot pavement with my sandals.
//Dilly. . .I can't stand to see you like this. . .//
I guess it's my part to care about my Yami. The gentle Hikari, all that. I'm supposed to be sweet and thoughtful, kind, etc. Even if it is to the more evil half that possesses part of my mind.
The swing picks up speed, and soon, my feet are off the ground and cool spring air is braiding itself through my hair like an invisible ribbon of comfort.
Now all I need is Dilandau's arm wrapped around me. . .???
. . .now where did that thought come from?. . .
I look at my feet, blushing.
I can see us sitting on a large blue swing together; I'm holding the right chain and Dilandau has the left one, and his right arm is resting comfortably on my shoulder. . .and he's playing with my hair, twisting it in silver bunches around his fingers. . .
I open my eyes with some surprise. I hadn't realized I had closed them while dreaming these fanciful daydreams. My Yami would never wrap his arm around me unless he really was carrying out his threats of strangulation. As I open them, I notice a young couple nearby. Talk about conveniently there.
I can't see their faces, but I do notice that they do not look at each other while they shyly hold hands, and are instead staring ahead. The boy has black hair and the girl brown, and their short hair flutters softly in the wind, meshing together. They look like they've just gotten out of a school program; both are dressed in navy blue uniforms. As I watch, the boy tightens his grip on the girl's hand and she, in turn, leans her head on his shoulder. (A/N: Van and Hitomi!!! Awww!!!!! ^_^)
I've never actually understood what people meant by 'they fit together.' I don't think I ever will. But this couple walking across the pathway in the park-I think they meet that sort of description as 'fitting together.' Because they're perfect for each other, and both look content, safe.
People don't understand what love really is. They can compare it to ownership-phrases such as 'Be Mine,' 'Yours forever,' etc.-or spring, and candy, and pretty but perishable things like flowers-'Our love blossoms'- but I would like to think of it as a sort of agreement and a mutual feeling of being accepted, a love that lasts forever, but no one tries to own the other. Because, in reality, what exactly is love? An idea created, molded, shaped by the idiots who try to market Valentine's Day products? I believe this is what the idea of love has become, a mere commercial for chocolates, diamonds, flowers, and the traditional markers of affection.
I mean, if love can be eaten like chocolates, who says it will last? And diamonds. A man may admire the cold, beautiful features of a diamond, but he will never love it. Flowers are vibrant while they last. But then they will wither and be thrown away. Do you truly wish to compare your love to something that will wilt and be discarded?
Love should be like the ocean, infinite, soft, and deep. Wrapping about you for all eternity, cushioning and protecting. There will be tough times, like a raging storm over the sea and high waves, but then the calm always follows in tranquil sea salt breezes. Oceans are infinite. Well, I'm sure that eventually even the oceans vanish, but you get what I'm trying to say. Right?
I think we're all in love with the concept of being in love. If you will. . .in love with love.
To be frank, the sole purpose of humans mating is to reproduce to ensure that they do not die out. Do animals mate for love, or for survival?
//YAMI! WAKE UP!!!// this time I jump into his mind-room and haul him off his 'bed.' He looks so innocent when he's sleeping, but I do this with no reluctance. I suppose everyone looks innocent when they sleep, even evil pyromaniacs from other dimensions who have to kill at least twenty people before breakfast or they won't be satisfied for the rest of the day.
//What the hell-! DAMMIT!!!!! I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!!!!// he looks around wildly, and the notices me. I see, with much amusement, how his hair is sticking up.
//Oh. It's you.// He curls up and crosses his arms over his knees, paying no more attention to me. I can't see his eyes. For some reason, this makes him seem more lonely than before.
//So. . .did you dream?// I say, sitting down beside him. Usually a comment like "Oh. It's (insert insignificant and little) you." would tick me off, but. . .have I mentioned that my life is not usual?
//Why the hell would you care?// he snaps, and still won't look at me. His fingers tighten their grip around his knees. He knows I've been listening in. I think he's embarrassed, though I can't be sure.
//I don't know, Dilly.//
There's a silence. My mind wanders back to the couple in the park.
//Aibou. . .// he says quietly, finally looking up, //Do you envy them?//
//Huh?// It's my turn to stop watching him and stare, flustered, at my hands. I'd forgotten he could hear everything I thought. //Wh-what makes you say that?//
This is one of the rare moments that my Yami is actually bordering on kind and considerate, but I am really too chagrined to take that much notice. In fact, it would be much better if the evil, evil Dilly returned. You know-the I-love-burning-and-death-and-more-burning-and-I-hate-anything- good kind of evil Dilandau. If he teased me, at least I could return shrapnel. But he's asking. Quietly. Seriously. Calmly, believe it or not.
//Stupid mortal,// he mutters, turning away again. I sag with relief, but only for a moment, because he turns back. //Aibou-I-//
He's blushing furiously. That's almost funny. My Yami. Dilandau. Blushing. It's almost unreal, in fact.
//Yes?//
//Never mind.//
//How many people have you killed, Dilly?// I say, to change the subject and ease the discomforted pause that hangs between us.
//Thousands,// he says offhandedly, wrinkling his brow. His mind is still somewhere else.
//Huh.// There isn't much I can say to this, having never killed anyone before in my life. I don't like it when people talk about death like it's nothing. Death isn't nothing. A life has been snuffed out. As for my Yami. . .I think he kills for sheer fun, or maybe because he's bored.
//I don't know, aibou. Maybe things will change for you. When you. . .get a. . .get a boyfriend or whatever you mortals call them. . .if he hurts you. . .I'll have an excuse the kill him.//
//Dilly. . .people can get in trouble for murdering other people, you know. It's not like where you're from.// I reach for his hand, but when I touch his skin he flinches and pulls away.
//Oh?// he seems mildly interested. //How?//
//For starters, if they catch you, you could be executed.//
//The key word in that sentence is 'if,' aibou.//
//Yes-but still-uh-Dilly-// I stop talking as I notice him gazing intently at me. . .
"ITAI!!" I yell, suddenly kissing the pavement. I pick myself off the ground with another equally loud 'ouch.' Apparently, while I was conversing with my Yami, my hands slipped from the swing and I fell off. Not abnormal. In fact, quite standard. My hands are scraped and one scratch is bleeding a bit, and the cuts start to sting as the air and sweat hits them.
I notice some parents giving me evil glares. I give them the best death glare impression I have, but they've already gone back to their stupid little conversations. I suppose that a lunatic is insignificant in their busy worlds. Dilandau is howling with laughter, which isn't helping at all.
//Fuck you, Dilandau,// I say, surprised at my own daring.
//Ow, that hurt,// he says, obviously unaffected, //straight to the heart.//
I decide to go back to the restaurant. I've nothing to lose. In the back of my head, Dilandau is still humming his song.
//Win dain. . .a lotica. . .Envai tu ri. . .Si lo ta. . .//
Yami: Well. . .? PULEEEEEEAAAAZE REVIEW!!!!! *growls* Or we'll COME AFTER YOU! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
Dilandau: It's BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Not MWA! BWA! LIKE BWAH! (Behwah- hah-hah-hah-hah-hah-hah!!!)
Yami: Next time, on chapt 3! Celena Schezar contemplates her relationship with her Yami as situations worsen-
*Dilandau pounces on him* Dilly: Meaning that she has to go to the mall with Millerna-san WITH her insane Yami-
Yami *after knocking Dilly out of the way* : and, basically, ALL HELL'S GONNA BREAK LOOSE!! MWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!
Dilly: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *stops for air* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *stops for air again* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA *stops for air* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH-and so on.
Hikari: Until Chapter Three!! Buh-bai!! *waves cheerfully* ^_^
PS: My friends Older Sister Pyro and Little Brother Pyro are writing a story that's called something around "Dilandau's Bedtime Tales." Ya might wanna check it out when it comes out!!! ^_^
Which style do you like better?
A) CLAMP
B) Satoshi Urushihara
DBZ
Other
Your own
F) And finally, everyone's favorite. . .yes, he's back! Let's give a big round of applause for YODA, Y-O-D-A, YODA!!!!
*Hikari can be heard singing*
Hikari: Lola, l-o-l-a Lola. . .
