Devotionshipping (Jonouchi Katsuya/Mazaki Anzu)
. . .
"Hey," she says, her voice echoing against the walls of the empty classroom. "If you want to cry, you can."
He jerks up—she—where did she come from? He's supposed to be the only one here. His partner to clean the classroom ditched him because he didn't want to be anywhere near Jonouchi Katsuya, resident bully and delinquent of the class. So he should be the only one here.
Except, there she is, standing in the doorway, one hand on the door as she tilts her head at him, blue eyes glinting in the light of the sun setting through the windows.
He wipes his nose off on the back of his hand, glaring at her. She's Yugi's friend, and the one who gives a really solid right hook when Jonouchi or Honda goes too far. But that's all he knows about her. He hasn't been friends with Yugi for long enough to get to know her, save for her suspicious glares every time Jonouchi drags his chair over to Yugi's desk at lunch time.
"I wasn't crying," he says, grit through his teeth. "Mind your own goddamn business."
Her expression doesn't change. It's one he can't quite read—vaguely uncertain, vaguely intense, like she's deciding whether or not she should punch him or hug him.
"You don't have to do the tough guy act with me," she says, dusting off something invisible from her skirt.
"I saidI wasn't crying."
He's mortified, really—no one else was supposed to be here. He doesn't want her to ask about his sob story. Doesn't want to have to explain to this girl, of all people, about how he was thinking about the text he got from Shizuka the other day asking him if he was going to visit this weekend, like he promised. About how he didn't have the money for the train that he had been saving up because his dad had stolen it to buy beer. About how he was going to let Shizuka down againbecause of his fucked up life.
Anzu just watches him for a long moment. Then she huffs softly. She walks into the room and he flinches a little, certain she's about to showcase her signature right hook.
But she just bends down and picks up the bucket of water with the cloth inside.
"I'll do the board," she said. "Just finish sweeping up."
Jonouchi only stares for a moment, and she's already started wiping down the board before he can protest.
"I didn't ask for your help!"
"And I didn't ask if you wanted it," she says.
He can only see the back of her head, so he can't see her face. He sniffles again and swears for it.
But she doesn't ask what's wrong. She just keeps wiping down the board, and they return to a strange sort of silence.
. . .
"You can cry if you want to, you know."
She flinches—she almost hadn't heard him walk up to her. For a moment, she's back in that booth with that man's hands on her and the feeling of the gun pressed up against the side of her head and she feels a scream coiling in her throat—
Jonouchi appears before her then, hands hovering over her shoulders without touching them, eyes finding hers.
"Hey," he whispers. "Hey. Hey."
He doesn't say anything more than that. Just 'hey', over and over again, and it's like a lifeline. She presses her hands to her mouth and thinks about how—she could have died. She was taken hostage by a violent convict—she could have died. It hasn't hit her until just right now, when Jonouchi said something, and she realizes—she does. She doeswant to cry.
Jonouchi catches her before she collapses, and her head drops against his shoulder and she cries until his sleeve is soaked.
He doesn't say anything except the same soothing, "hey," over and over and over, his hand moving in soft circles around her back, until she feels like she can breathe again.
"Thank you," she mumbles into his shoulder. "Thank you."
He breathes and it ruffles her hair as his fingers continue to gently rub her back.
"It's gonna be okay," he says. "I'm not gonna leave until you're okay."
Her fingers curl into his shirt and she realizes then that he means it. And it means more than anything she could ever express.
. . .
"Are you going to cry?"
Her voice is so quiet, he almost can't hear it for the fountain behind them. It's a sunny day. The middle-schoolers and elementary-schoolers have just gotten out of classes, and they're practically swarming the park. Holograms litter the field as duels spring up everywhere. It's almost surreal. For those kids, this is just the way of life now. Jonouchi still remembers a time before Duel Disks, before holograms, before even Duel Monsters itself. He wonders if there's going to be a time in the future where kids are born with a deck already in their hands. A time where kids don't separate the sections of their lives into Before Duel Monsters and After Duel Monsters.
Before Atem and After Atem.
She sits quietly on the bench next to him, and without looking at her, he knows that her eyes are on the kids playing Duel Monsters, like his. He also knows that her mind is on the person they just lost, like his is.
He lets his head fall back, so that he's staring at the sky.
"I might," he whispers. "You?"
She leans back so that her head is on top of his arm on the back of the bench.
"I think so," she whispers.
She hugs him first, but his head drops onto her shoulder first.
"It's okay," they both say to each other, as the sobs and the tears roll free of them. "It's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay."
"He's really gone, isn't he?" she whispers.
"Yeah, he's really gone," he says back.
"D-do you think you're gonna stop crying soon...?"
He shakes his head against her shoulder, and her hand strokes through his hair gently.
"Me neither."
They didn't let go of each other. Not until the tears they hadn't wanted to admit to were gone.
. . .
A/N: GUESS WHO SHIPS THIS NOWWWWWW
Next is Denyshipping (Yami Bakura x Yami Yugi x Anzu)
