DISCLAIMER: If I owned it, do you really think I'd still be writing fics?
NOTE/S: I don't know what to say. I feel so loved. * sniffs * The response to the last chapter just had me overwhelmed, and I'm really grateful to all of you for that. For someone who's just starting out in this fandom, this is a pretty big thing. Without you guys, I'd be nothing. * blows kisses * Anyway, this chapter is going to be a bit longer than the first few ones. Things will happen, almost-happen and a few secrets will be revealed. On with the fic!
I'd like to credit a good friend of mine, corn3ts, for helping me with some of the ideas in here. If you're a Beyblade fan, specifically a Kai/Rei fan, go and read her fics! They rock!
The chapter title "Period" ties in with the pattern I've set for this fic regarding the naming of the chapters. If you would notice, the chapter titles, when put together, would form a whole sentence. The "Period" is a representation of the final mark signaling the end of a sentence. Think of this one as a signaling of the end of "Act 1" in this story.
COME UNDONE: Period
"Do you remember anything, anything at all? Your parents? Your family?"
"No…" The little silver-haired boy shook his head furiously as he lowered his gaze down. Fingering the hem of his shirt, anyone with eyes could clearly see that he was nervous, afraid, terrified of something around him. But what exactly was he terrified of? No one knew. He was deadly silent most of the time, and no one could delve into his mind enough to understand him well. But what everyone was sure of, was that he had gone through less than pleasant times in his seven years of life.
The woman, a middle-aged child psychiatrist, frowned in thought as she stared at him, wondering what in the world was bothering him so much. "Did your caretakers tell you anything about when you first came here?"
"I was… I was… a baby." He answered, his hands trembling as he did so.
The woman nodded, noting to herself that he was another 'child who feels unwanted by parents' case. But then she noticed his shaking, and she grew concerned. "Is there something wrong? Are you afraid, little one?"
"No-nothing…" He murmured, the trembling still not showing signs of subsiding.
"You can tell me what's wrong." She gently coaxed.
He shook his head again in wordless reply. She sighed in near-defeat. This one was a bit harder to read than the rest, but she was determined to break through his barriers. This time, she opted for a different question to help her understand him better.
"Do you have any friends here?"
The trembling lessened to a degree as he glanced up at her sharply. "Friends?"
"Yes, friends. Someone you can talk to, someone you play with. A friend."
His brow creased as he tried to recall anyone he had talked to for a long period of time or someone who he had played games with. But all his mind could come up with was stark blankness. All the other kids at the orphanage called him names, teased him because he had "funny-looking hair". They made him want to cry, and he was hurt everytime he remembered their faces. He was pretty sure none of them were his friends.
"No. I don't have no friend." He replied at last. He had himself for a companion, and nothing else mattered, anyway.
The woman's eyes softened. "Oh, you poor thing."
Then her hand came to rest on his, and his whole body tensed. He didn't want her touching him like that. More importantly, he didn't want her looking at him like that. Eyes that gazed at him as if he were a wounded animal. He decided that no one should give him that kind of look ever again. Or else he'd… or else he'd…
"Don't worry, I know that you'll be able to find some friends soon. You're a sweet boy, and if only you'd have a bit more courage, they'll be swarming all over you." She smiled at him, patting his head. He wanted to scowl at her, but her hand was pushing his head downwards.
"Go back to your room, and wait for your caretaker to tell you when you'd be seeing me again." She gestured for him to stand up, and so he did, exiting without so much as a thank you or goodbye.
She looked after him as he went off, bringing her gaze to the file sitting on her desk. From what she'd gathered from the file…
The boy's name was Hidomu Bakura, as was written on the basket he was put in when his supposed mother dropped him off the orphanage. His mother left him in the care of the orphanage volunteers, but not before telling them the reason why. His mother was the mistress of a business tycoon, and she and Bakura were being chased by the police to comply with the orders of the tycoon's legal wife. She loved her son, but she couldn't risk keeping him.
The caretakers said that he was a quiet, withdrawn boy. Sometimes he had sudden bouts of temper, usually related to the other children's teasing of him. He was distant, but when he was angry…
She shook her head, setting the file down. This boy was definitely going to be a challenge.
Meanwhile, the little boy went back to his room. He lay down on his bed and started to think. Why was he there in the first place? Couldn't he go out and explore the world? He wanted to do just that, but he was trapped in this… cold, loveless place.
It was then that he decided that he wanted to try being brave.
That night, he took nothing with him, and escaped from the orphanage.
He never thought of going back to that place again, and he was glad for it.
For a little boy his age, he was quite impressive for the sheer distance that he had run. Soon, he was far, far away from the orphanage, almost exceeding his limits. When he stopped, he realized that he was somewhere dark and unbelievably chilly. He wrapped his arms around his tired self and leaned onto a brick wall, sliding down until he reached the hard earth. He slept, happy and oblivious to the dangers of a world where he had no one but himself.
The next morning, as the bright sun glared at him and forced his sleepy lids to open, his stomach growled loud, and he realized he had nothing to eat. He spied a nearby garbage can, and he stood up and diligently began to dig for food. But he found nothing except the occasional banana peel or other such fruit leftovers. Groaning as he clutched his stomach, he was desperate for some food that he contemplated eating the actual banana peel.
Then he saw it. From the corner of his eye, there was a rich foreigner walking down the street, nearing the alley where he was in. The man was short, stocky and draped in gold, and the little boy knew that it was a sign that he had money. If he had money, then maybe he'd be able to buy food, and he wouldn't feel that horrible pain in his belly. Turning away, his eyes came upon a small brick, and he picked it up.
He waited for the man with his brick in hand, prepared for an attack. The man neared the alley, and with all his strength, he grabbed onto the man's sleeve and pulled him to the dark recesses of the alley.
"Hey, What the—"
He spoke no more as the boy pounded into his head with the brick, effectively rendering him unconscious, or perhaps dead. After almost a minute of pounding, he stopped and knelt down, not minding the puddle of crimson spilling from the man's skull. He dug onto his pockets, and he found what he was looking for. A thousand yen, maybe more. He didn't really know. He wasn't good at counting yet.
He shoved the bills in his pocket, and began to walk to the store across the street, never stealing a second glance at the bloodied corpse of the first man he had killed.
He forgot the face of the man as the seconds flew by. He knew he was supposed to feel guilty about it, but he just… didn't. He told himself that he probably needed that money more than the fat man did, anyway.
He lived like that for quite some time, stealing, robbing, even joining a gang of kid rogues when he was eight. Occasionally, he had to kill to survive, but that was all right with him. He thought of himself, and only himself, and for him that was how it should always be.
But not for long, apparently.
One day when he was nine, the local police raided the old cellar that he and his gang were staying in, and they brought some of his gang-mates back to their parents or, in his case, was taken back to an orphanage.
He first thought it was the same place that he had escaped from two years ago, and at first he refused to even step within ten feet of the orphanage's grounds. But then he looked up, and saw the sign, "St. Matthew's Home for the Abandoned", and he was partly relieved that it wasn't the same orphanage than before. And before he knew it, he was inside.
A woman, a nun, as he had come to know, gently guided him towards a room where children like himself played. But he didn't feel like joining them, so he just sat down on the carpet in the far right corner of the room.
Then he noticed that someone else was sitting beside him, reading a book called "Treasure Island" ( one of his gang-mates was patient enough to teach him to read, and he was an incredibly fast learner ). The other child must have noticed the silver-haired boy's gaze on him, and lowered the book down. Ruby and Dark Chocolate stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.
Without warning, the ruby-eyed boy beamed at him and held out a hand. "Hi, I'm Yami! What's your name?"
After a moment, he reluctantly took hold of Yami's hand. "B-Bakura…"
'Let's be friends!" Yami gleefully declared as he eagerly shook Bakura's hand. The silver-haired boy struggled a bit before he could take his hand back.
"…You have weird hair." Bakura snorted, pointing at the other boy's admittedly strange hair, what with the combination of yellow, red and black and in the shape of something like a star…
"You do, too!" Yami replied cheerfully, ruffling Bakura's spiky, silver mane, much to the boy's chagrin.
And that was the meeting that would spark a lifelong bond of trust and friendship.
Months passed, and Bakura and Yami did indeed become close friends. They played, studied and even slept in the same room together. Bakura realized that now, he didn't think of only himself, but he thought of Yami, too. At first, he didn't really like the unwelcome change that Yami brought to his otherwise untroubled world, but he couldn't deny the fact that he cared a lot for Yami. They protected each other, and when Yami would sometimes cry from nightmares of his past, he would hug him ( although awkwardly ) and tell him it was okay.
Then on a fine day when he and Yami were both eleven years old, their real-life nightmare began. It was that day that they were both adopted by a man named Milliard Crawford. He specifically wanted the two little ones, Nahoshi Yami and Hidomu Bakura, to be his sons, and he got just what he wanted when he brought Yami and Bakura to his mansion the following day.
It was a day that the two boys regretted for the rest of their lives.
"Bakura? Oi, Bakura! Wake up, you lousy bastard!" Mariku slapped the other teen awake, jolting him out of his sleep-induced stupor. Bakura rubbed his cheek, irritated.
"What the hell was that for?"
Mariku thrust a cell phone in his face, shaking it. "Phone call for you. Well, technically it's Yami's, but since he's out on that teaching stint of his, and you're the only one who's as high in rank as Yami is, I figured that you should be the one talking here."
"Yeah, well, thanks a lot." He muttered, glaring at Mariku before snatching the phone.
"Moshi-moshi?"
"Ah, is this Nahoshi-san on the line?"
"No, he's out. This is Hidomu."
"Hidomu-san! Hello and Good day! This is Pegasus Crawford from Sennen Corporations. I understand that you are Nahoshi-san's financial partner in the management of your club, correct?"
Bakura frowned. The name "Crawford" struck a not-so-pleasant chord in his mind. This was probably just some stupid coincidence, though. And the guy obviously loved beating around the bush with all his fancy shmancy wording… Why wouldn't this guy just get straight to the point? "Yes, I am."
The man on the other line laughed heartily, a disturbing sound, if you asked Bakura. And that was something coming from him, because he himself wasn't really known for a laugh that belonged in the realm of the sane, either. "Well, as your manager Osiris-san has probably told you, I've spoken with him countless times before regarding the possible retirement of you and Nahoshi-san as owners of the club."
Oh, so this was the persistent asshole Mariku was talking about. "Yeah, I've heard about you from him. What do you want with us?"
"I would like to arrange a meeting with you and Nahoshi-san maybe at this time next week? That is, if you're free."
Out of the corner of his eye, Bakura saw Mariku shaking his head and making an 'L' sign with his fingers in the middle of his forehead. Bakura couldn't help but snicker.
"What a total loser." Mariku said softly, then he covered his mouth as he all-out guffawed.
"Hidomu-san?"
Bakura's fingers made a 'close-your-zipper' motion on his lips at the laughing Mariku. "Yes, yes, I'll tell Yami about the meeting you're planning. Is that all?"
"Yes. Thank you for your time, Hidomu-san." With that said, Bakura didn't wait for Pegasus to say goodbye and was the first to hang up, then he immediately faced Mariku, who was still a little red-faced.
"Next time, you better shut your trap while we're talking business here, Mariku!"
"Yeah, sorry. Sorry for telling the truth…"
Bakura paused briefly before asking, "…Is he really that full of shit?"
"Oh, yeah. I mean, c'mon! The guy has to get real! As if he has a chance in hell of getting a hold of this club."
Bakura let a small smile rest upon his lips. "We worked hard for this baby, ne? Remember those days?"
Mariku nodded as he smiled as well. "All too well, my friend. All too well."
"The only thing I can't really accept is the fact that yeah, we did work hard, but our actual line of work was…" He shook his head, as if disbelieving of himself.
"Past is past, Bakura. Let it go."
Bakura went silent for a moment, appearing to be lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, he gave a slight nod. "Yeah, guess you're right."
"Hmm… wanna go play some poker?"
"Yeah. But are you sure you can take me on?" Bakura grinned at the blond, showing off his fangs. "I am so going to kick your ass to kingdom come, blondie."
Mariku glared at him for using the hated nickname. "You're on!"
&^&^&^
"Yes. Thank you for your time, Hidomu-san." And the one on the other line hung up before Pegasus even had a chance to complete the name 'Hidomu-san'. The tall, regal man scowled menacingly at the receiver before banging the phone down.
"Those brats think they could get the best of me…" He gritted out, sitting down on his plush chair. He really and truly despised the nerve of those… children who operated that god-forsaken club. How he wanted to crush them beneath his fingers, see them beg for mercy at his feet…
"Boss? Can I come in?"
"Yes, you may enter, Hiroto."
Honda Hiroto discreetly pushed open the door to Pegasus' office. He turned to face him, closing the door with one hand. Pegasus gestured for him to sit down so that they could talk business properly.
"Is there a problem with things, my dear boy?"
Honda inwardly cringed. Sometimes, he had slightest inkling that his boss was some sort of a closet pedophile. Especially with the way he looked at him with those eyes of his. Well, eye, technically, since his right eye was damaged and in its place was a golden prosthetic eye custom-made from all places, Egypt.
"Erm, well, I was just here to ask about that new operation you had in mind… Am I really to be sent to Domino High to spy? Who am I spying on?"
Pegasus nodded at him. "Yes, you are to be sent to that particular school, since first of all, one of the club owners work there as a teacher. Secondly, that is the school nearest to the Psychedelic Monkey, therefore there are many club-goers studying there."
"If I may ask, uhh… how exactly is this related to you getting that club?"
"Don't you get it, Hiroto?" At Honda's blank stare, Pegasus sighed, mumbling a low "Figures…" under his breath. "You see, Hiroto, what we are out to do, is to exploit that club as a low-grade joint for drug pushers, takers and dealers. The problem is, that those brats who own said club are doing great measures to ensure that there are no drug troubles, and we don't want that, do we now? Yes, I thought so. Well, your job is to bring our products to that school, and… encourage your schoolmates to indulge in it. Even better, try to find the people who go or work at that club and encourage them."
"I won't be the only one, right?"
"Of course, not. Mako and some of the others will go with you as well. More will be stationed to be inside the club, though."
Honda nodded once in understanding. Th plan seemed simple enough, actually. But Honda knew that his boss was weaving this all to end in some grand master plan. He decided to ask, anyway.
"And after we go about drugging people, what's gonna happen next?"
"You'll see, Hiroto. You'll see." Pegasus answered, smiling too widely for anyone's liking.
"Why is he so intent on getting that stupid club, anyway?…" Honda asked himself, mentally shivering slightly at Pegasus' eerie smile. This time, he wisely decided to shut his mouth.
&^&^&^
"Wait, wait, let me get this straight… so, you're now a waiter?"
"Yes, I am now a waiter. Is there a problem with that?"
"Like hell there is!" Oh-kay, that was rather unexpected. Just what did Malik have against waiters? Ryou's lips turned into a fine, thin line as he calmly looked at his best friend as if he were patronizing a small child.
"Malik, you didn't, by any chance, get dumped by a waiter in the past… did you?" And Ryou knew that he had hit home with the stricken expression on his friend's fair face. Ryou then decided to take this opportunity to tease Malik.
"Aaw, but I thought you were the dumper, not the…dumpee." That just sounded plain stupid, but Ryou didn't really care.
Malik's trademark haughty glare almost sent Ryou laughing. "I am the dumper, which I think isn't even a word… and who said that I was ever dumped by some idiot waiter?"
"Your pretty but dumped face did."
"Ryou…" Malik growled threateningly.
"Sorry, sorry." Said boy laughed at Malik's menacing ( or at least trying to be ) expression .
"You don't sound sorry to me…" Malik muttered under his breath as Ryou took out the keys to their dormitory room. When he opened it, he immediately flipped the light switch on and kicked off his sneakers, then threw himself onto the lower half of his and Malik's bunk bed.
"Ryou, you haven't even changed yet." Malik said in a disapproving tone.
Ryou cracked open one eye and looked at Malik, who was looming over his bed with a hand on his hip. "I'm tired… and I've had enough shocks for today, so I think I deserve some sleep."
"Shocks? What shocks?" Malik asked, then his lavender eyes widened as he grinned mischievously at Ryou. He plopped down on the mattress beside his friend, supporting himself with his elbows. "Any gossip you've found out?"
"Promise you won't blab when I tell?"
Malik gasped dramatically, putting a fist on his heart. "Surely you jest? Of course, I won't tell!"
Ryou sighed, propping his chin up. "Yami-sensei owns the club."
Malik almost choked. "No. Way."
"Yes way."
"Are you shitting me?!"
"I most definitely am not shitting you, Malik."
Malik let himself fall back on the bed, staring up at the wood that separated his and Ryou's bunks. "So that's why he wears those ungodly amounts of leather to class…" He murmured thoughtfully.
Ryou let himself chuckle softly at the suggestion. "Yeah, maybe." Then he yawned and rubbed his eyes, weary from the day's events. "Ne, Malik, I'm really tired, so why don't you just go back to the top bunk so we both could get some rest, hmm?"
Malik's legs shot up in the air, and the he used it to propel himself out of Ryou's bunk. "Mmm… guess I will. Ne, Ryou?"
"… What?"
"You'll tell me more tomorrow, right?"
"Only if you behave."
Malik mock-saluted. "Yes, sir!"
&^&^&^
When trouble was brewing and planning to rear its ugly head, Yami would always be able to clearly sense it. He didn't know why, it was an instinct that he had ever since he was a mere child. Now, he was able to sense it more than ever.
It was precisely at 6:05 p.m. that he had returned to the Psychedelic Monkey after his duties as a substitute teacher in Domino High were finished. His head was pounding with all the lesson plans, grading tests, bitchy students, even bitchier co-teachers… He really needed some aspirin, or some Tylenol. And Yugi, too, for good measure. But Yugi told him that they had a big test on History the following day, so the Yugi option was out of the question.
He returned to his office, fully expecting to get some well-deserved rest. He did not expect Bakura to come barging into his office, and demanding that they talk about… something. He wasn't really listening.
"Are you even listening to me?!"
Yami blinked. "Uhh… come again?"
Bakura sighed in obvious frustration. "Okay, I'll say it again for your slow brain's sake. Look, some guy named Pegasus Crawford is out to get this club, and he—"
"Isn't that the same guy that Mariku's been negotiating with?"
Although annoyed at being interrupted, Bakura continued nonetheless. "Yes, that's him. And since whatever Mariku says just won't get through his thick skull, he's demanded that he wants to see us both next week. You game?"
Yami took a moment to process this piece of information in his mind. "Yeah, sure. I'm game." He answered nonchalantly, shrugging.
"You're not taking this seriously, are you?"
Yami smirked. "Not really."
And Bakura graced him with a smirk of his own. "You and me both."
Yami, now fully awakened from half-asleep state, leaned back on his chair. "Whatever he tries, it can't possibly be anything that you, me and Mariku can't handle."
"Amen to that."
"Indeed. Can't be harder than anything we've faced before in the past…" But as Yami said these words, he trailed off, almost as if his confidence was waning. What if, just what if, Pegasus Crawford could pose a real threat to their business? And he bore the name "Crawford"… he couldn't possibly be related to their adoptive father…
Could he?
He hoped not.
He liked to think that this was just slight paranoia on his part. But he couldn't shake off the feeling that this was trouble looking at them in the face. Yami couldn't help feeling this way, eversince…
That day.
It was actually a fine day for a stroll, or for a bit of biking. So that was what little Nahoshi Yami did. Taking out his four-wheel training bike out of their spacious garage, he began to circle the grounds, eventually reaching a rather woody part of the Nahoshi Family land.
The wind blew on his face and he laughed heartily, enjoying every moment of it. The little child of barely six years was a happy, funny and smart little boy. So smart infact, that he had learned to read and write in three different languages when he was only four years old. They all said that he would succeed in whatever career he would choose to take.
At that time, no one knew just how right that statement was.
But not only was he intelligent, he was happy with his life. His parents loved him and gave everything he would wish for. His tutors adored him. Even the maids were smitten with his charm. He was riding high on the clouds.
But all that came crashing down that day, when after he went biking, he returned home to tell his mother and father that he finally wanted a two-wheeler bike. He was so excited, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he ran all the way upstairs. He didn't notice the eerie quiet that surrounded the house, no chattering of the maids or anything else.
"Kaasan! Tousan!" He yelled exuberantly, but what he saw before him cut his excitement short. There standing above the bodies of his parents were three burly men, their faces all covered in wide, black masks of some sort. He blinked, looking down, and his eyes widened at the sight of red on his mother and father's chests. They stared up lifelessly, their mouths hanging open in silent horror.
"Who… who are you?" He asked timidly, lifting his head to look at the three men. Then the one with blue eyes laughed. He slowly lifted his gun and pointed it at Yami's head.
"You miss your mom and dad, already? Don't worry, you'll be with them soon, little one."
He barely had time to move away as the bullet aimed for his head. And everything went black.
When he woke up, he was in a bed. But not his bed, because his bed was much, much more comfortable and smelled like peaches. This one was harder and smelled like disinfectant. He wrinkled his nose, and opened his eyes, adjusting to the sheer white that was the ceiling.
He was… in a hospital. He had lived. He tried to sit up, but there was a pain in his shoulder that kept him there. But the gun was aiming for his head… Oh, yes, he had dodged a bit, so maybe that helped.
But what about his parents? Carefully, he tried to piece the clues together. He knew that the guns the three men had held could kill. He knew that when excessive amounts of blood spilt from a person, he would die. Then… his mother and father were… dead?
He began to cry like he had never cried before in his all too happy childhood. And while he wept, he remembered the stark image of a masked face framed by blue eyes.
Blue eyes that would pay.
&^&^&^
"Malik, are you sure you're going to be okay here? I mean, you're all alone…"
Said blond teen beamed and chuckled at Ryou, who was simply annoyed at that moment from being sort of pushed off like he wasn't concerned about his best friend. "Just go to your work, sweetie. And if you're lucky, you get to drag me home when I get drunk."
Ryou hit the back of Malik's head lightly. "More like if you get lucky. Which isn't gonna happen, if I can help it."
Malik rolled his eyes as he sat down at the bar. " Whatever. Have fun, Ryou."
And Ryou took off for Yami's office. While he was walking in the corridors, someone called out to him. "Hey, kid! Are you the new waiter?" Ryou blinked at the query, the turned to face the newcomer, a tall, dark-skinned man with amethyst eyes and dirty blond, not too mention all too spiky hair…
"Hey there, kid. How're you doin'?"
Ryou smiled up at him. "Oh, I'm fine, thank you." He held out a hand. "I'm Takahashi Ryou. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."
The other one's lips curved up into a huge grin as he took Ryou's hand. "Oh, no. The pleasure's all mine. I'm Mariku Osiris, the manager of this joint. Yami and Bakura told me to come and get you your uniform, so if you please…" Mariku said as he motioned for Ryou to follow him to another room farther down.
Mariku, meanwhile, was whistling appreciatively in his head. "Wow, is this the kid that Yami said Bakura had the hots for? Okay, now I gotta admit that that bastard does have good taste after all. Hmm… I hope I get to see that other hot kid, Malik. Wow, now he has the most gorgeous piece of ass this side of town. I wonder who has better taste, me or Bakura?…" These unanswered questions remained as such when he was cut from his thoughts as they entered the room.
Mariku picked up two pieces of clothing from the rack. "Here. Put these on over there." He pointed over to the dressing room. Ryou nodded, hoping that it wasn't some muscle shirt and hotpants that he were holding in his hands.
To his relief, he was only to wear a loose black shirt with an insanely grinning monkey holding a huge banana at the front for its print. And then there were the shorts… that barely covered his thighs. Oh well, at least it wasn't hotpants, because those things won't even be able to cover someone's butt! He absently wondered why Malik enjoyed wearing them half of the time, and as quickly as the thought came, it vanished in his mind.
Meanwhile, Malik was steadily growing drunk by the minute, and he liked it like that. He lowered his head, moaning and giggling at the same time. The bartender was in the backroom, so nobody noticed someone sit next to him and pour a white, crystalline-like substance in his powerful, alcoholic drink.
That someone was Kusanagi Shiro, a goon of one Pegasus Crawford. Yeah, he didn't have orders to go about and drug people yet, but he liked this one for himself now. He was so pretty, like a doll. So beautiful, that he'd like to have this doll for his own self-satisfaction. And he would use any means to get him. Good thing he had some extra 'pleasantries' left in his pocket…
On the other side of the bar, Ryou went about his duties as a waiter, serving up food and a few drinks to some of the patrons sitting on the plush sofas beside the dance floor. All was going well until…
"Well, aren't you a pretty baby? Come here and sit in daddy's lap." A middle-aged, balding man leered at him, particularly at his exposed legs, and patted at his lap. A small bulge could be seen in his crotch area, and Ryou almost gagged at the sight.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm here to take your order. Other than that, I can't accept any other proposal you might make." Ryou said stiffly, growing nervous by the second. His first night as a waiter, and this had to happen. Someone up there must hate him, he thought.
"Say what, bitch?" The man ground out angrily, pounding both fists on the table. "I said, I want you here right now!"
"Is there a problem here?"
Both Ryou and the balding man turned to look at a silver-haired, dark-eyed teen in a loose blue tank top and black leather pants. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he looked at the man on the table eyeing Ryou.
Ryou was surprised, to say the least. "Bakura-san?…"
"Who the fuck are you?" Asked the man, glaring back at Bakura.
"If you must know, I happen to be one of the two owners of this joint, and that includes that chair you're sitting on, fucker." Bakura spat back, his black-tipped silver mane brushing his cheek as he stared at the offender.
"Well, if you're the owner, I'd tell you that the service around here sucks! I mean, I was just asking your pretty little bitch here for some company, and he refuses! What kind of stinkin' joint is this, anyway?"
"Our waiters here are allowed to have 'fun' with low-life customers like you, but only if they give their full consent. Did you give your full consent, Ryou?" Bakura turned to look at the younger teen, who had been silently observing the whole time.
Ryou's mind did a momentary happy dance. "Oh, he remembers my name!" it said in glee. But then he shook his head in reply to the question as Bakura turned to look at him. "No, I… I didn't give him my consent, Bakura-san."
"You little—" The man lunged for Ryou's throat, but Bakura saw it just in time and punched the man in the gut. Hard and swift, that always did the job. The man passed out cold on the floor. Bakura called two bouncers over, Ryou recognized one of them as Akira, and they picked up the unconscious man and brought him to a back room.
"Are you okay?" Bakura asked softly, and somehow, Ryou still heard him despite of all the music bouncing off the walls.
"Y-yeah… Thank you." Ryou replied, staring up at dark, melted chocolate orbs.
Bakura stared back into Ryou's own hazel-brown eyes. He suddenly felt as if it was only the two of them that existed, looking into each other's eyes, inexplicably drawn to each other.
Ryou felt that this was somewhat wrong… but it also felt so right. How could that be? They just met about a week and a half ago. How could everything like this happen so fast? Love at first was something he never really believed in, but this… What could he call this, if it wasn't love at first sight?
"You better be more careful next time." Bakura said, breaking the trance that held both of them at its mercy. His hand moved on its own, and he realized that he was brushing the other boy's cheek in a light caress. "There are worse dickheads here willing to do more to get someone as beautiful as you."
Ryou's cheeks gave way to a light blush that wasn't really that obvious with the dim lights surrounding the club. Bakura's warm hand rested on his cheek still, his fingers brushing Ryou's cheekbones. Did that mean that Bakura thought that he was beautiful?…
A loud scream interrupted everything.
Ryou gasped, recognizing the voice. He dropped his notepad and pushed past a shocked Bakura.
"Well, shit." Bakura thought. "Looks like there's more trouble ahead." And with that in mind, he ran after Ryou.
&^&^&^
That was… long! And exhausting. Fifteen pages… O__o I think that things are starting to take off from here. Complicated, this is one is definitely going to be. Act 1 has ended, and Act 2 is going to be more plot-driven, I guess. Stay tuned! ^^
A short, but very grateful shout-out to the reviewers: A huge THANK YOU goes out to scryed, Sugar-Kat, Maruken, Elle-FaTe2x1, Harakiri, It'sHardToBelieve, redconvoy, Kaze, bakuras girlfriend, citcat-chan, DreamingChild, Princess of Mirrors, AngelStarFire Hikarist and person6.
These are replies also to certain reviewers who I felt needed an answer for some of their questions:
DreamingChild: Yup, you are really going to want to pluck that eye of his right out of its socket after this story is through. He is the main villain, after all. ^^
person6: Yes, I * heart * your fics! ^^ Is that so hard to believe? You're really good, with your unique plots and everything else that you think of. And yeah, I agree with you, what's with the whole 'must-get-club-from-young-ex-drug-lords' thing? I hope this chapter gave you somewhat of an answer to that. Or at least a very wild guess. * cackles * I hope you also found out a half of the reason why Yami and Bakura are a bit disturbed, and we haven't even gotten to Mariku's side of the story yet. And that's only their childhood, so more of their past will be revealed soon! ^__^ As for the fluff, the fluff is going to come along nicely, so don't you worry about that. * winks * By the way, your two new B/R fics just blow me away. ^__^v
Princess of Mirrors: Your review is not only something that needs to be noticed, but also something to be worshiped. =D I can't thank you enough for giving me your honest, thoughtful criticism. It's something I really need to grow as a writer. Thank you a million times. * bows * You pointed out the good points in this story, and the needs-to-be-explained ones, too. The Yugi-thing will be explained fully in the next or in the later chapters, and I'm really trying to balance out the romance and tie it with the plot. It helps a lot if readers tell me the strong and weak points like you did. I truly look forward to getting reviews from you. ^__^