Intentshipping (Kaiba Mokuba/Yami no Bakura)
. . .
Mokuba might be friends with Yugi (against his brother's grumblings), and he might find that most of Yugi's friends really weren't even half as bad as his brother liked to complain, but one way or the other he just couldn't even begin to feel comfortable around Bakura Ryo.
There was just something...off about him. Something about his lanky white hair that always fell over his eyes, his constantly wrinkled clothes and the bags under his eyes that indicated that he had been awake all night and probably hadn't changed since the day before, something about...about the way his head tilted down and a smile peeled across his lips when he seemed to think no one else was looking at him. Something about how, in certain lights, his peridot green eyes seemed to darken, to flicker to a cold lavender that would disappear the moment Mokuba's gaze brushed his.
He pretended not to, but Mokuba really hated how close he was standing to Bakura right now, while he waited for the juggling balls to decide the first duelists of the Battle City finals. The room was full and brightly lit and there were people everywhere, people like his brother and Yugi and Isono and the guards that Mokuba had befriended when they were first hired, people he trusted to keep him safe. And yet...
Mokuba flicked the whistle on his shirt back and forth, back and forth, like a pendulum. Bakura was smiling that bland, distant smile. The one that made his face look flat and boring—that was one that Mokuba thought was the creepiest. Sometimes he would notice Bakura's eyes light up and a real smile explode over his lips, usually when he starting talking animatedly about some RPG or something, and that was the time that Mokuba found himself able to relax around him. But those smiles were never long, and he would slip back into apprehension as he waited for the white-haired boy to just...go away.
The balls were starting to juggle down into the slots, and the numbers were about to be called. Mokuba found himself still looking at Bakura, though, trying to hide under his bangs as he studied that smile.
It looked fake. Calculated. Like his brother's fake business smile, but with a little more of a hazy, faraway look, like Bakura wasn't all there—or pretending to be.
Isono picked up one of the numbered balls and opened his mouth to read it out. Bakura's eyes slid over to Mokuba, fluid, water-like, as though he were suddenly honing in on Mokuba's stare, aware of his gaze.
Mokuba found himself staring into flat, cold lavender eyes. His mouth went dry. Who...who was he even looking at?
The hint of a smile tugged at the edge of the boy's lips, and in Mokuba's suddenly blank brain, he imagined he caught a glimpse of fangs.
"And the duelists facing each other first will be Mutou Yugi, and Bakura Ryo!"
Mokuba could not drop those dark eyes. He felt a tremble growing in his fingers.
And then Bakura's eyes faded back to green, and he smiled—the bland, flat one.
"Oh my!" he said. "I'm first already?"
His hand brushed against Mokuba's side as he passed, and Mokuba could have sworn that ice sprouted from the touch.
He shuddered.
He really, really didn't like that kid.
. . .
A/N: I don't know I'm tired and sleep-deprived and this is late and there's only one chapter today. Next will be Insightshipping (Priest Set x Ishizu).
