The Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain
Author: Mother CHOW Goddess
Rating: PG-13; for swearing, violence, and attempted male/male rape (Shonen-Ai and Yaoi) SKxRB
Category: Yugioh, AU (post Battle City) Angst/Action
Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle City Tournament, life goes back to normal -- or as normal as possible. Unfortunately, Ryou Bakura is having a particularly bad day and when he crosses paths with Seto Kaiba it gets even worse, in ways that will change both lives... if they survive. First Person Ryou's POV.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc.
Author's Notes: Calynder, thank you! This is the first time I've tried writing such an extended First Person POV, and I'm glad that it seems to be working. And I'm glad you like my interpretation of Ryou at this point in the series; he's so quiet in the anime (what I've seen of it, anyway, and except when it's obviously the Spirit of the Ring in control!, and my access to the manga is limited ) but remember what they always say about the quiet ones - meh heh heh... Clingy(), I see Seto as having a very dry, subtle sense of humor, that not everyone would appreciate (or even recognize!). As for Ryou's attitude... well, I theorize that he's probably more than a little fed up with the whole 'possession' thing, and as I point out, he's been having a really bad day! And even us quiet polite Virgos have our breaking points! Aikido is one of several 'martial arts' that emphasize meditation and self-defense. BTW, if you like clever Kaiba dialog, check out Amarin Rose's story 'Separate Differences' – it's MalikxSeto, but the back and forth is delightful! Redconvoy, I'm glad you like it! I had so much fun writing the insults while keeping Ryou polite! Getting Ryou to say those words was the tricky part, because he had to be angry enough (or panicky enough!) to say them in the first place, and secondly, say them in such a way as to leave some doubt in his mind as to whether he actually did say them! Poor baby! Believe it or not that, that was the very last scene I wrote, and it was a bugger! Until I thought up the 'Bill Gates' comparison....I'm trying not to rely on the cartoon version, because I know that there are some major differences from the manga... That's why this is AU. My thought is that maybe Ryou went looking for the Ring after BC because he was sick and tired of the Spirit ruining his life, and he wanted Yami's help in getting rid him? D-Star, thanks! This particular story has three chapters, and an epilogue in Kaiba's POV, but I plan to write additional stories for a series! Am I evil? Meh heh heh!
My Beta Reader has suggested that I was too cautious in rating this story "R", and that I could probably get away with 'PG-13'.... And I'd get more readers/reviews....
Previously:
Kaiba looms over me like a spirit of Impending Doom, but his voice is surprisingly normal-sounding as he casually informs me,
"I wouldn't know about Bill Gates, but I'd suggest you wait until we've actually finished before deciding I'm 'not that f-cking good.'"
"N-nani?"
"You said ... and I quote.... ' F-ck me, Kaiba '."
Chapter 2:
My heart stops. I can't breathe. My vision narrows sharply to exclude the rest of the world, my sole focus being eyes the color of polished lapis lazuli half hidden by chestnut brown bangs, flared nostrils, and the pair of slightly parted and sensual lips immediately in front of me. Lips that are curling up at one corner into an SK trademark smirk that painfully jumpstarts my heart into pounding like a jackhammer, as if to make up for its momentary lapse in working properly.
I. Didn't. Say. That.
No f-cking way.
Did I? Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
And suddenly along with the resumed functioning of my cardio-vascular system, I also regain most peripheral sensory capabilities --- I sound like that StarTrek character: whats'isname, the alien who's into logic and science instead of emotions -- and my brain kicks into hyperdrive.
S-since when do you listen to what I s-s-ay?" I stammer breathlessly, glaring up into those gleaming 'oh-so-amused-and-unbearably-smug-about-it' eyes barely an arm's length away from mine. Damn him! I haven't stuttered for months! Unfortunately he's got me cornered, figuratively speaking. My back is up against one of the park's magnificently huge oak trees, my potential escape routes blocked by those long belt-and-buckle-bedecked arms of his --- say, Kaiba, what's with the leather and metal fetish? Talk about kinky --- which I could probably duck under, especially if I take advantage of the fortuitous proximity of my knee to a certain portion of his anatomy. Then while Kaiba's curled up in agony, I run like a scared rabbit.
Two problems with that scenario. One, with my luck the bastard's wearing a cup; probably wouldn't even feel it, and all I'd end up with would be a badly bruised knee. And two: Kaiba's legs are way longer than mine; he'd catch me before I reached the street, and from the look in those eyes I really don't think I want to be there when he does. Except.... that's NOT an 'I'm pissed off and ready to annihilate' glare; I know what THAT looks like, I've seen it directed at my -- our -- classmates often enough. I don't recognize that expression at all; it looks --
Hungry?
Did I mention that MY arms are effectively straitjacketed by my school blazer, which has been pushed off my shoulders, and is now an uncomfortable lump between the small of my back and the tree? Right now I couldn't shove Kaiba away if my life depended on it, which means a kick to his family jewels might be my only option. Then free my arms and hope those aikido classes weren't a total waste of my time and Dad's money.
Uh-oh....
"Since I want to," Kaiba growls, answering my earlier, mostly rhetorical, question. His arms appear to fold in like umbrella ribs; I barely have time to 'eep', let alone implement any ingenious plan to avoid a fate worse than death. I do drop to my knees out of reflex, but before I can do anything like scuttle away between his legs or aim a punch, Kaiba's got a grip on my collar and is hauling me back into the danger zone. He leans in, lips a mere inch from my ear.
"You challenged me. I accept. "
Oh hell. I am totally screwed. No pun intended. Kaiba won't back down. I can't back down. That would be showing weakness, and you don't show weakness in front of a predator. And Kaiba is definitely a predator. Wait a minute. If Kaiba's treating this like a Duel, maybe there's a loophole....
"What happens if I forfeit?"
Okay, this is just not right. No teenager (and for all his posturing and attitude Kaiba's not that much older than I am) should have such a sinister chuckle. It's just plain wrong.
"You pay a penalty, of course."
Of course. Silly me. And I can just guess what that penalty might be. Kaiba wins, either way. Maybe I did say what Kaiba claims I did (and out of all the uncomplimentary epithets I've heard regarding my opponent, I've never heard the word 'liar' used); I certainly didn't mean it literally -- and I don't believe in Freudian slips! The real question is: what can I live with? Meekly submitting to what I believe is about to happen or fighting back every inch (ouch!) of the way? I don't think there are any rules in the Dual Monsters Tournament Handbook covering this sort of situation.
One last appeal to sanity. "Would you consider settling this Ro-Sham-Bo?"
"You're stalling."
Didn't think so. "And you're annoying!" I snap back, letting the anger I've been suppressing flare up again. Use your anger; don't let it use you. When Kaiba grabbed me by the collar it pulled my jacket back up more or less into its proper place, restoring some mobility to my arms. I bring them up sharply, breaking his grip from the inside and forcing him back a step. Lapis eyes widen slightly in surprise, then narrow again in calculation.
"Hn. Seems I've underestimated --"
"Whatever," I interrupt, throwing 'Ms Manners' to the wolves. Most people see my ectomorphic build with its lack of obvious muscles and notice that I'm not particularly athletic in P.E. class; they observe the way I try to avoid trouble, and make their assumptions: weakling, wimp, etc. If I were a boxer, I'd be a featherweight; in fact, that's my nickname at the dojo -- 'Feather'. I may not have the body mass, but by God, I've been learning how to use what I've got! Kaiba of all people should know not to judge a book by its cover; right now he's re-evaluating everything he thinks he knows about me. Good. I need to keep him off balance; it might give me a slight edge.
I stand as tall as I can, and match Kaiba glare for glare -- not eye to eye, there's too much of a height difference between us -- reflexively straightening my blazer. I will not be intimidated. Stiff upper lip, don't let 'em see you sweat, and all that crap. The part of me that still wants to work things out is wondering why Kaiba picked today to take extreme offense at a common insult, but that part is getting smaller by the moment. Right now, I don't effing care why Mr. High-and-Mighty-CEO is pissed off. All I care about it getting through this relatively intact.
"Two things before we start, Kaiba." He opens his mouth, probably to say something about how I have no say since I 'challenged' him, but I cut him off again. "One. This stays between us. No involving family, friends ... or ancient Egyptian spirits. Just you and me."
Staring into those cold blue eyes I see the exact moment he realizes what I'm offering. Not that he believes in 'all that mystical mumbo jumbo' as he so eloquently puts it; I swear, if you look up 'denial' in the dictionary, you'll find an icon of Seto Kaiba right next to the definition text. And he could probably care less if I go whining to Yuugi-tachi about the big bad Kaiba-monster when this is over; hell, it would give him something new to torment Jou with. No, what gets his attention is that I won't rat him out to the one person whose good opinion he values -- his little brother. Not for Kaiba's sake, certainly; but I happen to like Mokuba, and I'm not about to scar the kid for life by telling him that his beloved nii-sama is a pervert and a would-be-rapist!
"Agreed."
And I know that he'll keep up his end as well: the soul of discretion, with no gloating to classmates or associates about his 'conquest', although I'm not sure if he'll be able to refrain from subtle veiled jabs in public. Still, Kaiba has a reputation for keeping his word. I'll just have to deal with it later if he can't. I manage to keep the relief out of my expression, inhale deeply and slowly exhale. Calm. Center yourself, Feather. Ignore the fact that you're about to be totally demolished and depredated. Degraded. Whatever.
"Two. Just so you know..." Kaiba hears something in my tone that makes him wary, because his stance shifts slightly. Going to Defense Mode, eh, Game Master? Should I be flattered? Some day, somehow, I swear I will make you regret pushing this! So I let him have it. Storm Force Ten: with all the anger, disgust, and loathing that roils in my heart and soul channeling like lasers through my eyes and dripping acid in my voice, ".... I. Will. NOT. Make. This. Easy. For. You."
He recoils, and I take advantage by lunging forward --no, not a groin shot, tempting though it is -- during that brief moment, hitting one shoulder and knocking him further off balance, then backsweep the supporting leg out from under him. Kaiba goes down, but recovers quickly enough to grab one of my ankles as I leap away. As I fall I manage to kick free, lose a shoe and feel my heel connect with something -- Kaiba's face, I hope. No such luck, apparently, I see as I finish my roll and crouch turn to view my opponent. Oh, yes, I'm very familiar with that look -- shock, fury, frustration, and 'you're dead!'
"Warned you," I pant. "Won't go down...without...a fight...you sonofabitch...." I could still run, while he's getting to his feet. Stupid, Feather. You've got, what? Two months worth of aikido lessons and a few dirty tricks you've picked here and there, while the Dragon Master over there moves like Jet Li! Now what do I do?
Try to keep from getting pinned down again, and stall. The longer I can drag this out the better the chance that someone, anyone, will wander by and interrupt and I certainly don't imagine Kaiba fancies an audience. Is he packing, as Jou would so colorfully put it? Not a gun, at least. Not his style. Maybe a knife, but I don't think he'll pull it. Not for this. Kaiba isn't planning on killing me, after all, just ....
Focus, Feather. Might not happen.
Yeah, right.
I toe off my other shoe, glad of the thick tabi I wore today in anticipation of Kendo club. The ground is littered with twigs and other plant bits; if I were totally barefoot I'd be in serious trouble. Still might be, as some of these ornamental bushes also have thorns. I should try to ditch my school jacket if possible; it's been a liability once already.
Too late.
I make the mistake of taking my eyes off my opponent for I swear three seconds (I'm thinking about those evergreen hedges just overthere) and refocus just in time to almost dodge a snap kick. Almost, because I think Kaiba was aiming for my head and he catches my shoulder with a glancing hit instead because I'm already moving. I tumble and grab -- feels like denim? -- and yank.Keh... someone should tell Kaiba that wearing long flowing coats during a brawl is a BAD idea... but not just yet! K aiba, meet prickly bush. Yes!
Shoulder hurts, probably going to have a lovely bruise there tomorrow, but not too bad. I'm not going to make Jonouchi's usual mistake and attack. Can't let Kaiba get too close; I know some blocks and an armlock or two but I have to be inside his reach to use them. Nope, not happening. I'm backing away from Kaiba, I think those hedges I noticed earlier are behind me; if he rushes me, maybe I can encourage another introduction....
My heel catches on something.
K'so! Who put a rose bush ---
Which is when a hundred and fifty-some pounds of angry CEO connects with my stomach and the world vanishes in a flash of purple black agony.
Until about a year and a half ago, I owned an alarm clock that possessed a truly evil sounding buzzer that could put the smoke detector to shame. Shortly after the Other decided to take a more active role in making my life a living hell (as opposed to merely putting my friends into mysterious comas, and letting me think I was crazy, cursed or both), he also decided there was room for only one truly evil entity in the apartment, and my alarm clock took a one-way trip to the Shadow Realm (so did the smoke detector, but that's another story; suffice to say, that's why I'm now living in a townhouse). Well, apparently there's some kind of cosmic 'Law of Conservation' because now that the Other is gone, my alarm seems to be back -- louder and more obnoxious than ever...
Wait a minute. Since when do I have a bonsai tree on my bedside table?
That horrible buzzing is fading a bit; battery must be running down. Heaven knows the last time it was replaced; at least a year and a ---
I'm lying on dirt and prickly twigs, and there's a green beetle staring me in the face. This is -- odd.
"... Bakura."
I'm sorry, Bakura's not here right now, he's wherever psychopathic Egyptian tomb robbers end up when they piss off powerful pharaohs, and he's not likely to be back any time soon. Like never, we hope....
"Bakura!"
.... But if you'd care to leave a message for the f-cked-up former host vessel....
F-cked--- oh F-CK! I make the green beetle disappear by closing my eyes and take a panicked mental inventory of said vessel's physical condition. I'm sprawled half-sitting half-lying on my back against some prickly evergreen hedge plant. It's got little purple berries. Low-growing juniper, maybe? Kaiba is sitting on top of me, straddling my legs actually so I can't kick him; it feels like he's got one knee holding down my left arm. Where's my other arm? What the hell is it doing underneath me? Not broken, but I think its going numb.
I open my eyes again. Kaiba looks like he's been dragged through a patch of gorse bushes -- well, duh! And that was a stand of roses we crashed through when I tripped and before we landed in our present compromising position. He's using one arm to keep himself upright while he gets his breath back; I've made him work for his spoils of war. The other hand is around my throat. Not choking me, though; is he... checking my pulse? Afraid he'd killed me? As if...Damn him!
All I can do is glare and breathe; short, harsh gasps of air that to my ears sound horrifyingly close to sobs. If I keep hyperventilating, maybe I'll pass out again. At least that way I won't feel it happening; maybe afterwards I can pretend it was just another nightmare from the Shadow Realm, courtesy of the Other. After all, I still wake up sweating in terror at least once a week, and spend the rest of the hours until dawn wide awake with every light in the house turned on. What's one more monster in the closet, after all?
"What's wrong, Bakura? Run out of tricks?" Kaiba's breathing is still ragged, but starting to even out. "What happened to your usual threats about eternities of pain and darkness? I'm disappointed." Anything I say, or try to say, would be pointless; brushed aside as desperate defiance, or worse, groveling. The Other tried to teach me the futility of resistance, and yet time and again I managed to deflect his rage and destruction away from my friends and onto myself. I must be a slow learner.
"S-s-s-screw you, Kaiba," I manage, and the f-cking bastard actually laughs. There's a manic gleam in his eyes that's more frightening than anything I ever saw in my Other or in Malik; as if Kaiba has received the demonic equivalent of a Grail Vision and is less than a heartbeat away from setting alight the fires of Armageddon.
"I think you've got that backwards," he taunts. "But then, what else should I expect from a pathetic third rate duelist like yourself? You tried to play the game and you lost. Now you pay the penalty."
"Your game, your rules...." Kaiba's never been what you'd call a good loser, and unfortunately I've seen him even less gracious in victory, "...your advantage," I add bitterly. "How could you not have won?"
Oh, that was stupid! All but accusing Seto Kaiba of cheating.... I brace myself for his reaction, either more verbal abuse or even a physical blow because there's no way in Hell he's going to let that pass. Instead, he lets go of my throat to reach that hand up through my hair, finger-combing the bangs back into some semblance of order. What the hell? I flinch as they catch in a snarl, and he stops, his expression darkening with...what? Anger? Frustration? Confusion? No, that can't be right. I must be mistaken.
"I haven't won," Kaiba grates out, almost impatiently, as if tutoring a particularly dense student he suspects of being willfully stupid. "Yet." The fingers that are still tangled in my hair pull free to trace down the side of my face and along the jaw line. "Not until I get what I want." He grips my chin and forces it up and back, so that the only way I can avoid his eyes is to close my own. His are smoldering like dry ice, cloudy lapis lazuli lit from behind by whatever passion is driving this violence.
"What you want," I retort in a strangled whisper, "is nothing I care to give. You'll have to take it."
"I intend to." Now I do close my eyes. I don't want to see him gloating at me; I don't want to see what I know is coming next. "Game over, Bakura. You lose."
I never thought having a classical education would be a disadvantage or that I would regret my father's liberal views regarding art vs. porn, and the hours spent in museums surrounded by decadent Etruscan bath mosaics --the kind that most adolescent boys wouldcheerfully trade their virginity to at least ogle, let alone imitate. Many of the acts depicted would be considered mild by modern standards or improbable unless you were a contortionist.... So of course, the nastiest images are projecting themselves against the insides of my eyelids in standard 'life-passing-before-my-eyes-in-less-time-than-it-than-it-takes-to-say-it' fashion, and I realize that I may still have a chance!
It's basic anatomy, really. I'm on my back, which would be bad if I was female. But the most common position for, er, male-male activities which would also give Kaiba the greatest amount of control, especially over a less than enthusiastic partner -- and don't even try to tell me that control isn't an issue, here! -- requires that I be, ah, face down. Which means that Kaiba is going to have to let go and move in order to turn me over. All I need is a slight shift in the weight on top of me, and a moment of misplaced confidence in my apparent docility....
What I get is Kaiba's mouth against mine with bruising force and the breath knocked out of my lungs from the shock. Not a kiss; a kiss is a tentative brush of lips with Miho at the White Day dance after school, or the taste of tears as Anzu cries and hugs my neck after YamiYuugi brings me back body and spirit from the Shadow Realm (nothing personal; Jou got the same treatment when he woke up). This is an assault, a foreshadowing of the invasion to come. The hand that was holding my chin is now behind my head, fingers once again clenched in my hair to keep me from turning away from the unwanted intrusion of Kaiba's tongue between my lips, demanding entry to the rest of my mouth.
Let me in. Now.
No.
The pressure eases, but I know better than to think he's relenting. Kaiba simply doesn't take 'no' for an answer; just ask Yuugi and his Ojii-san. Hell, ask any of the -tachi! Egotistical control freak ---
Ah! He bit me!
My bottom lip, to be precise, and not very hard but it's enough to startle me into letting them part, which is what he intended. I don't have to open my eyes to see the satisfied smirk on his face as he presses the advantage, tongue probing past my teeth and deep into my mouth; touching, tasting... caressing....
....Oh. Oh, GOD......
And at the same time electric heat sears up my nerves from my groin to my head, telling my brain that something incredible is going on just below the equator that really needs some attention. But my brain is a little overwhelmed at the moment; take a number please, and get in line, that's a good libido. So my treacherous body decides in the absence of instructions to take the initiative into its own hands, so to speak, and responds to a subtle shift in the pressure across my hips by trying to not only maintain but increase said pressure. Movement that does not go unnoticed by the sadist trying to give me an impromptu tonsillectomy, because I feel the laughter vibrating through his body as he releases my mouth with a light flick of tongue against my lower lip that sends another jolt of lightning down my spine.
I did not want this; I did not ask for this. I always assumed that eventually I would become attracted to a girl my own age and that either friendship would develop into physical intimacy or vice versa, teenage hormones being what they are. The fact that it hadn't happened yet I've accredited to lack of opportunity, and the fear that anyone getting close to me would be hurt -- or worse -- by the Other. As a result, I am (to the best of my knowledge) still a virgin. Innocent? Hardly! Not with that malicious homicidal maniac living in my head, but I've never found any indication that he made use of my body in that way and considerable evidence that he'd actually thwarted sexual assaults on us, on more than one occasion. I almost wish he was here, right now; except not even Kaiba deserves a trip to the Shadow Realm or to be torn apart by Man-Eater Bug.
I should be yelling 'Fire' at the top of my lungs; I should be trying to hit Kaiba over the head or knee him in the groin, fighting tooth and nail to get his body off of mine. Instead I lie shuddering, eyes still tightly closed. Kaiba's lips are hot against my neck, against the pulse point he was holding earlier and I know he can tell how hard my heart is pounding right now. I feel his hips grinding against mine and I bite my lip until I taste blood to keep from moaning. Not from pain; oh no, definitely not pain. The Other taught me all about pain. This is something entirely different; a searing heat that surges through my body, that leaves me aching, wanting more....
Kamisama, please.... Not like this. Please.....
"O-onegai.... Kaiba....don't..."
Neither one seems to be listening. He claims my mouth again, licking the blood from my lip as his free hand snakes inside my jacket and tugs the shirttails out of my uniform trousers. My collar is already undone and it takes only a few seconds for Kaiba to twitch the buttons loose and open my shirt. His fingers brush across my ribcage, tickling and teasing towards the tender, half-healed scars on my chest.
"Kai --- Itaiiiiiiiii!"
That is definitely pain, and it stabs through me with a dreadful familiarity. Every time the Other called upon the power of the Sennen Ring, my body paid for it in blood. It's been, what, almost two months since I stopped wearing the Ring and the puncture wounds caused by the Ring's flechettes are still incredibly sensitive to the touch. YamiYuugi believes that eventually they will heal, but I will probably carry the scars for the rest of my life.
There are tears in my eyes now; I try to blink them away and realize that Kaiba has pulled back, and is looking at me with a strange expression I can't quite identify on his face. He pulls the cotton shirt away from my skin and something odd flickers in his eyes. I know what he sees: five raw, weeping gashes and what looks like a burn mark in the form of an encircled pyramid. That's what Yuugi (and Yami) kept apologizing for; the energy from the God-Card strike seared through the Ring and literally branded me when they took down the Other on the Battle Ship.
Kaiba's eyes are narrow and hard, but his touch is surprisingly gentle as he traces the mark with a finger; I seem to recall one of the -tachi saying something about him having been abused when he was younger. By his and Mokuba's stepfather, I think it was. I'm too exhausted and heartsick to care right now. I just want this over, damn him.
"What -- who did this?" he demands roughly, and I realize I still have a spark of anger left. How dare he -- ?
"What the hell do you care?" I glare at him through my tears, and he recoils as if my words were a slap to his face. There it is again, that flicker of something in his expression; but as quickly as it flared, my anger is gone again, leaving me tired and empty. Resigned. I let my head fall to the side, exposing my throat -- classic submissive posture -- and close my eyes again. "Just do it, Kaiba," I whisper. "Get it over with."
For a long moment the only sound is Kaiba's breathing.
Then a cell phone goes off, startling both of us. My eyes fly open and I stare up at my assailant, who is glancing around wildly trying to locate the source of a rather off-tune rendition of -- oh, that's tacky! I thought Kaiba had better taste than that. Apparently it is his phone; I'd forgotten he had it, and by the look on his face, so had Kaiba. It's a wonder it didn't get smashed in all our crashing around. He pulls it out of a trench coat pocket, stares at it blankly for a moment --What in the name of heaven is this? -- then flips it open.
"Kaiba..." he barks into the receiver. And the look he gives me is priceless, almost apologetic -- sorry to interrupt your rape, but I really must take this call -- and I start giggling silently. Hysterical reaction, I'm sure. Talk about anticlimactic. "Yes.... No, of course not, you moron.... Domino Park." He sighs and runs one hand back through his hair in what looks like a habitual gesture of exasperation. "Deal with it, that's what I pay you for. -- Moron!" he repeats as he clicks the unit shut. Then he looks down at me and my giggles dry up instantly. I'm barely breathing again. Sounds like normal Kaiba is back (as opposed to psycho-rapist Kaiba), but I'm not taking any chances. After all, he is still sitting on me.
His expression tells me nothing; he's wearing that same blank mask that drives poor Jonouchi half crazy. The others always tell Jou that he shouldn't let Kaiba get to him so easily, but at the moment I heartily sympathize with the hot-headed blonde. It's maddening, truly it is. Until I notice the turmoil in his eyes. Still angry, but not that insane fury I saw earlier nor the frightening - I still don't know what to call it - exaltation? - that burned in them when he realized I was well and truly trapped with no escape possible. Does he know how terrified I am? If he touches me again, I think I might go catatonic .... He'd get his prize, but would it be worth the winning?
Ten heartbeats. Twenty heartbeats. Thirty....
"We're not finished, Bakura."
And without touching me, not even a hand on my shoulder for balance as he stands, Kaiba is on his feet again in a graceful swirl of coattails, stepping back from the debris of broken shrubbery and nearly broken me until he's clear of the hedgerow. Then he's gone, presumably heading for the street where we left his motorcycle, while I collapse back into the junipers trembling as a strange combination of exhaustion, relief, and irrational fury crash through my mind. How dare he just walk away like that? Like I was a...a worn-out toy, something to use and throw away when he was finished.... He could have at least....
Dear God. He said we're not finished.
I curl up then; not catatonic, because I can still feel everything. Every ache, every bruise, the touch of his lips against my neck, his hands on my chest, the weight of his body against mine...the raw need that burned through me when he...when Kaiba.....
Father, forgive me, for I have sinned and I am surely going to Hell.
Because part of me...wanted it.
(tbc)
Teaser for Chapter Three:
Traffic picks up and Honda starts changing lanes, weaving the motorcycle in and out between cars without slowing down, leaning into the turns, and I automatically lean with him in sync.... The smooth leather of Honda's jacket feels cool against my skin; comfortable, durable and dependable -- like its wearer. One of the few real memories I have of that whole Battle City fiasco is of Honda hoisting me onto his back and carrying me out of the wind and the cold and the dark.
Oh, Kamisama, if I had to be attracted to another male, why not a friend? Why not Hiroto? He's caring and strong and fiercely loyal....
What did the Other do during Battle City, to make Kaiba so angry... so... violent? It must have been something horrible... And Kaiba blames me ...
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A/N: Again, before anyone asks -- this story is First Person, Ryou's POV. Which means he really has absolutely no idea why Kaiba's acting like this. Kaiba will get a chance to tell his side eventually; and NO, I am NOT going to explain it in advance!!!!
Special 'Lilo & Stitch' moment: my Beta was reading this section aloud and hit the "Ah! He bit me!" line, then promptly continued: "Eeeewww, does this look infected to you? - So help me, Kaiba, if I get rabies I'm suing!" We both cracked up, ROTFLOAO....
Special Thanks to List-Daddy Dragon and WarClaw on the Rhiannon's Eyrie mailing list, for walking me through the brawling possibilities for a 2-month aikido student versus unknown expert. Arigato, Nii-sans!
My title "The Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain" was inspired by at least three separate sources. WoaF refers to the Egyptian Judgement of the Dead, in which the heart of the deceased is weighed against the Feather of Truth. It also hearkens back to something one of my college philosophy professors said, about the decision given less thought than the weight of a feather being the one that will have the impact of a hammer ( I may not have that quite right, it's been, um quite a few years cough twentysomething cough).... But if I were Kaiba, I'd be worried.... "Breaking Strain" refers to a poem by Rudyard Kipling, (Hymn of Breaking Strain) which I personally have found great comfort in over the years, especially the last verse....Look it up, if you're curious.
Read & Review, please!