Summary: In which we explore Yami's relationship with the first of his Anchors, watch someone get beat up, and delve into a psychological discussion of bread. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: No.
Author's notes: Eh…the bread thing is strange. That's about it though.
(Beta-ed by Lily-sama!)
(Title Suggested by Zoo-sama!)
Red and Blue
Chapter 2
~*~
"Allow me to present Crown Prince Yami." Enthusiastic cheers greeted the Pharaoh's announcement. It wasn't everyday that their future (albeit young) ruler was presented to them.
The short boy stood on the balcony, beside the Pharaoh, with the entire entourage of guards, Priests and family behind them, and nearly the entire population of the city before. They stood together, the Pharaoh's arm around Yami's shoulder, presenting the perfect picture of father and son.
It was sad that these were the only times Yami was ever truly close to the Pharaoh.
The celebration was for purely formal purposes only. Which was to be expected. It was only during formal celebrations that Yami got to spend any real amount of time with the Pharaoh.
His father.
~*~
Yami loved the smell of freshly baked bread. The one aroma seemed to bring with it all the warmth and loving emotion that the word 'family' was supposed to convey, something that he had never truly experienced. Isis wasn't really family; his mother had seen no harm in letting him know from the start. It hadn't affected his relationship with her any; she was still the closest thing to a sister that he had. His mother had tried to make time for him, but even before her sickness, she had been much too busy; his father…
He barely knew him.
Wanting to gain approval, or even the slightest acknowledgement, at least, from the ruler of all Egypt, he had pursued his studies relentlessly. Even at the age of eight, he was a better swordsman than many older than he (his best friend, who served with the Guards, assured him of this); his skills in reading and writing equaled that of many scribes. Architecture and higher mathematics were things he had yet to pursue officially; preliminary tests from both his tutor and his sister revealed a keen mind for both. Of religion he knew next to nothing; theology was reserved for the Priests.
Yet the Pharaoh seemed to take these skills for granted, or perhaps he didn't even know of them. Even at mealtimes, he was always engaged in heated discussions with his advisors, or the Priests, ignoring everyone else at the table.
However much the Pharaoh ignored him, he was still central to Yami's life. Gaining his approval, or his regard, or something, anything from him was one of the reasons Yami had never given up. Even so young, he yearned for this. He had seen the other children. Their fathers played with them, talked with them, did things with them. Some of them were strict, but they still acknowledged their children. And, almost undoubtedly, they loved each other.
He loved the Pharaoh. Did his father love him back?
"Isis?" He tugged a little at the other girl's skirt. When she had finally relented and allowed him to come to the bakery with her, its delicious aroma had seemed to intensify, nearly overpowering the Prince.
"I was wondering when you'd speak up again. What were you thinking about?" Smiling, she led him through the crowded marketplace, without waiting for an answer, leaving the guards from the palace to trail behind them. They weren't really supposed to be there; in fact, it had been specifically requested that they not follow. Paranoia was rampant, however; who knew what horrible fates would befall the Heir and his sister? It was quite a comical sight: it wasn't everyday that you saw a thirteen-year-old girl dragging her younger brother behind her through a crowded marketplace…followed by several taller men holding various weapons, all of whom looked as if they wanted to be anywhere but there, and all of whom were trying to look inconspicuous, with varying degrees of success.
"Isis! Can I have one, Isis, please?" Yami asked excitedly, pointing to the freshly baked loaves of bread stacked neatly on the baker's stall, ignoring Isis' question. Isis just laughed and handed the baker several coins before taking the loaves he handed her. She handed a sweet-filled bun to Yami, who immediately set about destroying almost all evidence of its existence, and started walking back to the palace.
"So what were you thinking about?" Isis asked as Yami continued eating. The path to the palace was lined with trees and carved stone benches. As they moved closer, the palace itself started coming into sight.
With slight surprise, Yami looked at her. "When?"
"Back there." She answered with a slight jerk of her head. "You didn't think I forgot, did you?" His startled expression (and the near demise of his bread) was enough to tell her that he'd hoped she had. Stuffing part of his bread back into his wide-open mouth, she added, "It looked serious too. Perhaps something about…"
"It was about the Pharaoh."
This time it was Isis who almost dropped the bread she had bought. Looking at Yami concernedly, she gestured towards one of the benches. "Do you want to sit down?" When he nodded, she turned and waved at the guards who were still trying to 'covertly' follow them. "Thanks so much! You may now return to the palace and inform those concerned that we have not been kidnapped, molested, drugged, pushed into any clandestine pits or hurled into cleverly engineered holes filled with lava. We'll follow in a little bit." Several of the soldiers looked at each other in a mixture of surprise and confusion; were they allowed to do that? They turned from each other to stare at Isis, who simply smiled and pointed towards the palace, and, by extension, their homes and families. After all, what could happen to them this close to the palace? So they took their leave as Isis and Yami took their seats.
"You're angry?" Were her opening words. Having expected more subtlety from his older sister, Yami was taken aback. For this reason, it took a while for the words to actually sink in. When they finally did, Yami shook his head vehemently, denying them. "I thought not. It was worth a shot though. So what is it?"
It took a few moments, but he finally started. It didn't help that every time a person walked anywhere near the shady pathway, Yami immediately faltered and the words stopped. Eventually, however, he managed to piece together and voice his thoughts.
"…And we hardly ever see him! He doesn't seem to know I exist at all, except when there's a public ceremony. He's always busy with crops, or worries about droughts, or the Games!" Isis made a strangled sound in her throat at that; Yami looked at her strangely before continuing. "I just wish he would notice me once in a while. Not my-son-who-I-only-see-during-ceremonies, not the-heir-to-the-throne. I want him to see me as Yami!"
At the end of this impassioned recital, Isis simply sat stunned for a moment. Yami hadn't raised his voice once while speaking; there was nothing to suggest that this was anything more than a simple, friendly conversation. His emotion was hidden as he had been taught to hide it, but she could see something smoldering in his eyes, struggling to get out. Anger, perhaps…or longing.
"So you love him but you don't understand why he doesn't seem to feel the same for you." 'How can they ask him to do it? No one else had or will have the requirements that he has to fulfill. Damn them all! I will not allow them to do this to him!'
Still looking somewhat dazed, Yami nodded, the wild look in his eyes starting to fade. He sensed that something had been made clear to Isis that he wouldn't understand. They sat there quietly for a few minutes more, the silence stretching out before them, each lost in their own thoughts. They were so far removed that they didn't notice the group of strangers gathering around them. All of them were holding makeshift weapons and wearing menacing grins.
Isis was the one who recovered first. She glanced from one derisive face to another, hoping against hope that they weren't there for what she thought they were. Then, Yami looked up as well, his mouth parted into a silent 'o' of surprise. Heartily wishing that she hadn't sent the Guard in after all, she stood up, motioning at Yami to stay put.
A blond man standing in front of the group (apparently the leader) spoke up first. "Well, well, well. What have we here?"
~*~
"I still don't think this is a good idea, Jou."
"Oh, please, Anzu. What could happen?"
"You could get caught. Obviously."
The sunny courtyard was the perfect place to practice swordplay. It was well lit and open with plenty of space. The springy moss growing on the cobblestones was also soft enough to break a fall. (Not that Jou thought he would be doing any falling.) Unfortunately, and predictably, it was also forbidden. "That's true…"
"What? You're not going to give up already, are you?" Honda glared at him. "Do you realize how much time I spent gathering these up? It's not exactly easy to steal my father's practice weaponry."
Jou looked from the pile of glittering swords to the disapproving face of his older friend. And back again. "It's the only time the guards are away without needing every weapon they have…"
The girl simply turned away disappointedly. "I still can't believe you're going through with it…" She muttered as she walked away.
Taking advantage of Jou's distraction, Honda hit him over the head and shoved one of the larger swords into his hands. "Well? Hurry up!"
"Well, excuse me, O Great Son of the Weaponsmaster. I was simply delaying your inevitable defeat…"
"Less talk and more work. You still need a lot more work on parrying, and it's not like we have a lot of time on our hands."
Dropping the broadsword Honda had chosen for him and selecting one of the lighter ones instead, he faced Honda in the ready stance. He brought his sword up just in time to prevent his friend's from crashing down on his head.
"Good!"
"I haven't even started." Jou yelled back.
"No. But you are finished." Another voice answered.
Jou managed to throw Honda's sword off as the other's grip had slackened. The clatter of the metal on the stones was unnaturally loud. "Oh shit."
"That would be a rude thing to do, especially out in the open here in the courtyard. You have no manners at all. Haven't I taught you better?" The voice replied amusedly.
"Father, I…" Just then, something clicked. His father wasn't supposed to be home until Yami was. He would be just the person to help bail them out of this situation. "Is Yami…?"
Automatically, his father corrected him. "Prince Yami."
"Isn't he home then?" Honda asked, having, like Jou, seen the way out of this situation.
"He is. In a manner of speaking."
Shocked, the two gaped at the man speaking, who had turned to put away his armor. "You mean you left him alone outside the palace walls?" They cried simultaneously.
"He's with Lady Isis."
"You left him alone outside the palace walls," was all Honda said, still doing a creditable imitation of one of the fish they often found in the river. He turned to look for Jou to back him up and was surprised to see him gone. "Jou!"
"I'm not leaving him alone outside!" His voice floated back.
"Then wait for me, you idiot!"
~*~
"What do you want?" Isis glared icily at the men surrounding them.
"Whatever you have offer us." One of them leered at her. "And judging by your appearance, it seems like that will be plenty."
Casting a look at the palace, trying to gauge the distance and wondering whether Yami would have enough time to run there, was a mistake.
"It seems we've gotten lucky, men!" The leader had seen her calculating glance towards the palace. "I do believe we've gotten our hands on the Crown Prince himself. I wonder how much the Pharaoh will pay us to have his precious little boy back safe again."
Isis raged inwardly. They had no idea what they were interfering with. 'I hope I don't have to call them. They warned me about using it too early. Not that they wouldn't be useful right about now.'
She felt Yami stir at her side. Whirling, she flung out an arm to keep him from standing up and drawing attention…but it was too late. "He will give you nothing." She heard him say.
"What did you say?" The man glared at the shorter boy.
"The Pharaoh will give you nothing." Carefully blank crimson eyes stared at nothing with complete apathy. "The kingdom cannot be risked solely for the sake of one person."
The man was obviously taken aback by this demonstration of selflessness. Perhaps he was just as unnerved by Yami's eyes staring directly through him, as if he didn't exist. "You little brat." He muttered with false bravado, raising his hand to strike the boy.
"Don't you dare touch him," was the only warning before a fist shot out, seemingly from nowhere.
~*~
"You really didn't have to do that, Jou." Yami admonished as he and Honda helped support his bruised savior up the path to the palace. Isis had run on ahead to get help. Jou simply smiled up at him cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to his rapidly blackening eye, swollen lip and various other injuries. "I'm not saying I don't appreciate it…"
"Well, I wasn't going to let him hit you. Might as well be me that he hits instead, no?"
"Of course, considering that there were only about ten more of them to your one." Honda replied sarcastically. "You could have waited for me before you charged in like that"
"Not my fault you're too slow. Besides, the other guys didn't do anything."
"Only because they thought no one would be stupid enough to waltz into the middle of a large group of armed thugs with only his fists. Lucky for you, they didn't know you are that stupid."
"That was really nice of you though, Jou." Yami said quietly.
"It's no problem. And like I said, don't worry about me!" Jou tried to wink, but the bruise around his eye ruined the effect somewhat.
"Yeah, that's my job. He really needs it."
"Thanks for jumping in right after me, Honda. How come I still got more bruises than you? It can't be your fighting skills."
"Because you refuse to listen to me when I tell you to concentrate more on defense." Honda shot back, ignoring Jou's sarcastic comments.
"Best defense is a good offense."
Laughing, Yami waved at the priests and doctor making their way down the path. "You two are impossible."
~*~Owari~*~
Endnotes: Strange, wasn't it? I can't write action scenes. Don't kill me.
Review, please?