As promised, here's the next instalment to Voices. Please enjoy~.
Warnings: Amelda! Mistakes and typos will be amended whenever. In the meantime, please bear with it. Cheers~.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!
O-o-O-o-O
Two hours and twenty-two minutes later, a wilting Yami was semi-dozing in his chair. The lullaby of voices soothed his mind and tugged on his fatigue, and the stifling over-heated room was slowly killing his resistance. Before long, Yami was battling the effects of drowsiness. He managed to stop the flood of drool from escaping his mouth, however, that was the extent to his multi-tasking abilities—his drooping eyelids were a testimony to that.
During the course of the morning, they made slow progress. The absence of Marik was keenly felt . . . for entertainment and for work purposes. Judging from the order of the script and where Ota-san initiated the session, it was apparent why the director was livid about the absentee. A lot of scenes involved Ra, Obelisk and Kisara.
At first, Yami wondered why they didn't do the scenes without the hentai and then add his part in later—a technique employed by many directors—but not one favoured by Ota-san. Apparently, the fastidious man hated blank or broken dialogues. He felt the recording never quite managed to capture the essence of that particular scene if the cast were not fully interacting with each other.
"If any one of the participators of the conversation are absent . . . there is no conversation," he would mulishly insist.
Yami understood the reason and he could empathise with Ota-san's obstinacy. There was nothing worse than voicing a one-way conversation because an actor feeds off others. One's emotions and feelings could easily be affected by another's. Together, as a unit, they assist and guide each other—together, their emotions and voices are harmonised. One could not achieve that if nothing but silence answered back.
So they slowly trudged on, completing as many Marikless scenes as possible with the actors recruited solely for that day's session. Yami provided voices for some 'extras' since Osiris, at the beginning, did not make very many appearances. Had Marik been present, he suspected there was little need for his presence. He'd probably be voicing extras along with Rebecca, Honda, Noa and Jounouchi since their characters appear later in the story.
Discreetly, Yami hid a silent yawn behind his hand and blinked back the tears the action brought on, his mind hankering for the bed he had yet to sleep in.
Ah, sleep . . . his mind crooned happily as he succumbed to the delicious thoughts of slumber. His concentration waning dangerously, leaving him with a blunt-edged awareness.
". . . Yami-kun for the next scene."
Yami started, his attention bolted on the man in the little room. Getting up, he crossed over to the stands and microphones. Due to his dozy state, he didn't catch the names he was voicing the scene with, but was surprised to see only Kogoro Daimon joining him. Earlier performances revealed Kogoro-sensei played Osiris' father, King Ammit.
"Right, please turn to scene fifteen, gentlemen." Everyone flipped through the script to the relevant scene. The others followed the scene even if they had no part in it.
Yami scanned the lines to see what he needed to do, but stopped when Ota-san began speaking again.
"In this scene we have a conversation between father and son. Osiris has learnt he will be forced to leave his comfortable life and be mentored by a stranger. He is not happy with the news and confronts his father over it. This scene contains an upheaval of emotions—especially for Osiris." Ota-san fixes his eyes on Yami. "Yami-kun, Osiris will go through a wide range of emotions throughout this brief confrontation so it's imperative you adapt to the changes quickly. You need to focus hard to get your timing and the expressions right. Study the clip well."
Yami bobbed his head to show he understood the instructions. The director nodded back before turning to the older actor.
"Kogoro-sensei, please note Ammit's inner turmoil in this scene. Torn between affection and his sense of duty, he is plagued with the conflicting emotions of father and king. His struggle, though not as evident as Osiris, is no less turbulent. The challenge is to express the softer side of the father as well as the king's solemnity when the need arises," Ota-san flashed them both an encouraging smile. "I am confident you can both pull it off . . . so lets get cracking."
After repeatedly studying and doing trail runs on the film clip, Yami and Kogoro were finally ready to tackle it . . .
Osiris stood stiffly before his father, King Ammit of Metahtes, his body clamping down on the desire to exhibit the agitation he felt.
The regal man sat behind his desk observing his fifteen year old son with an indulgent smile on his face. He knew the reason behind the child's petulant scowl and irritable mood—just as he knew it would be an uphill battle to persuade the child to accept it.
"It has already been decided, Osiris," he said ruefully with a hint of sternness. "And the arrangements made accordingly."
Osiris' scowl intensified. "But Father, I do not wish it!" he remonstrated, resisting the urge to stamp his foot in dissent. It would not do to show disrespect to his majesty, especially if he was also one's sire. "I do not wish to be sent away and mentored. I do not want to leave here!"
Ammit sighed. There was no avoiding this confrontation; his son was notoriously obstinate even at such a young age. Kisara was the only person who could handle his temper and coax him into a biddable mood and he was almost tempted to shirk the responsibility and let his daughter do the honours. Osiris loved her unconditionally . . . which was also part of the problem.
Ammit needed to wean Osiris off such childish attachment and teach him independence. General Gadius would assist the boy through this transition. Judging from the proposal the former submitted; the programme would leave Osiris very little time to mourn. The training would be valuable experience for the boy and, at the same time, provide him with a much-needed distraction from his woes. He'd be taught: military tactics, politics and diplomacy by the General and will not return until he'd mastered all elements of the programme. Only then will Osiris be allowed return to Ammit and be schooled in the art of kingship.
The thought hardened Ammit's resolve. As much as he loathed sending Osiris away, it was in the child's best interest.
"You must, child," he countered firmly. "It is clear you will not progress here at the Academy for you have exceeded what they have to offer, hence the decision for you to be personally mentored by General Gadius."
Osiris did not appreciate the arrangement, but the underlining authority in his father's voice stopped the surfacing rebuke dead in its tracks. Filaments of panic wound around his body and wrung out every drop of his defiance. The strength he drew from it instantly dissipated into thin air—leaving his naked fears exposed. Without the citadel to buffer the cruel assault the ultimatum posed, his defences crumbled like a sandcastle in a storm.
"Is it necessary to be sent away? Is it not possible to be tutored, if not at the Academy, then at home?" he asked softly.
Ammit shook his head sadly, trying to ignore the pleading note in the request.
"No," he insisted. "For all intents and purposes, you will not reach your potential here and the General sees that. He has specifically asked for your removal to a location of his choice. Hopefully, without outside influence you will be able to concentrate on your studies—to strengthen your spirit and sharpen your mind." Leaning forward and resting his locked hands on the desk, Ammit enforced his words with an unyielding look of determination . . . and was surprised to see it mirrored in his son's face. It appears he hadn't managed to break that whelp's resistance . . . yet.
From that look alone, it was no surprise to Ammit when Osiris blurted, "Sir, I do not recall Ra ever receiving such treatment, yet he's considered an academic wonder. Am I lesser than him that I require extra tutoring like a delinquent behind on his studies?"
Ammit angrily slammed his hands on the table, disturbing the objects on it and startling the boy. "Osiris, be mindful of what you are saying and whom you are saying it to!" he bellowed. His face darkened with rage.
"I am sorry, Father," Osiris offered dejectedly, his head hung in defeat. "Please forgive my impertinence."
Ammit sighed and gestured his son to approach him.
Obeying the command, Osiris cautiously walked around the table and stood in front of his father. The latter placed his hands on his son's shoulders and peered into those wine-hued eyes, his austere expression softening at the sorrow discerned behind those dark orbs which were always so expressive—always swirling with emotions the child could not hide. It betrayed its owner's thoughts and feelings, a trait that was appealing, but undesirable in a sovereign. With Gadius' guidance, the boy will learn to mask it. With Gadius' assistance, Osiris will be able to safeguard all that he holds dear.
"If you wish to protect this kingdom, Osiris . . . if you wish to protect those you love you must . . . no, you need to become strong. You have a mind like no other in this kingdom; it is shrewd and capable of absorbing everything that it is taught. Although your sister is known as the Gift Bearer, you, my child is gifted too. Don't let it go to waste."
"But—"
"Osiris, it has been decided. Preparations are being carried out as we speak. You have five days remaining before you depart. Spend it wisely."
The pale head drooped. "M-may I ask where I am going?" Try as he may, Osiris failed to quell the quiver in his voice.
"No. For security reasons, your location will remain a secret until the General deem the situation safe to disclose it. Even then, all communications will be tightly monitored."
At the news, Osiris gave a pained look. It prompted Ammit to voice his reassurance, "Do not despair, my son. I promise you will not be not completely severed from everyone. Just give yourself time and do your best, that is all I am asking." The large hands patted Osiris tenderly and the boy responded with a faint nod and with an awry smile.
"Yes, Father. I will give it my all. I promise."
Returning the smile, Ammit gave the slender shoulders a small squeeze and retracted his hands. "I know you will, my son. Now off you go and try not to bully your tutor too much. I hear the poor man's having a nervous breakdown because you are either picking his brain or not showing up for his lessons." He chuckled as he gently nudged his son towards the door.
Osiris turned and snorted, "I wouldn't need to be so harsh on him if he was competent! One would think he'd improve after schooling Ra—not to mention thankful that I don't terrorise and abuse him like Ra did. If memory serves me correctly, he called the man 'a stuttering imbecile' in public on many occasions. I, for one, am a little kinder to his feelings though no less crueller than Ra should he evoke my anger. He should be mindful of that fact."
The king cocked his head as he watched his son bow and make his exit, his departing words triggering a faint smile and a shake of his head. It wasn't until the door closed with a soft 'click', did he exhale deeply and pressed two fingers to his temple and rub it.
"You may come out now, General." The command was laced with authority.
The sound of a door opening announced the intrusion of another from the adjoining room. A tall, broad-shouldered figure appeared. His pale blue eyes were starkly noticeable against the tanned skin and the long russet mane that spiked upwards gave the man a loftier appearance.
Without looking in his direction, Ammit leaned into his seat and said, "I am entrusting you with the child of my flesh and blood in return for the man you swore you will deliver. You have my permission to bring out and nurture his abilities with methods you see fit. Do not fail me, General, but most importantly, do not fail him."
Ruby eyes flecked with gold turned to his companion and pinned him with a piercing gaze, his lips grimly pursed on his handsome face. "However, with that said," Ammit added, "should you abuse that trust—if he is harmed unnecessarily—be prepared to suffer the consequences. I will not tolerate negligence or fools gladly, so be warned. It will be the only one you'll receive thus remember it well."
Standing rigid and proud, the unwavering eyes of ice blue looked at his liege in a steadfast manner and dipped his head in silent acknowledgment.
Gadius was well aware of the challenge he had set himself. It was one he looked forward to it with unparalleled relish . . .
Yami held his breath and waited for the Ota-san's comments. It had taken numerous attempts to perfect, what he thought, was the best attempt thus far. Was it good enough though?
He hoped so.
"Excellent! Thank you Kogoro-sensei and Yami-kun." Yami and Kogoro looked at each other and smiled with relief. "Yami-kun, please remain where you are. Kogoro-sensei, you may return to your seat." The latter moved silently back to his seat leaving Yami anxiously on his own. "Now I would like Kaiba-sensei to the front please."
Yami's eyes grew impossibly wide on hearing the request as he clamped down on the urge to pump his fist in the air and shout "Yes!" out loud. He could barely contain the elation that simmered beneath his excited self; the thought of voicing another scene with Kaiba was thrilling and he was ready to burst with eagerness. He wondered which scene it was going to be.
"Okay, lets turn to scene sixteen." Ota-san waited patiently as everyone found the specific scene. He fiddled around with a few buttons in the process before looking up shortly after. Once he got everyone's attention he carried on. "This will be a difficult scene to voice due to the length of the scene and because we have two rather boisterous teens on the loose—one being a bi-polar Osiris!"
People chortled at the Osiris observation. Yami forced himself to laugh along, but his heart had dropped down to his balls when he realised the enormity of the task.
His excitement deflated as fast as a balloon with a cigarette burn.
This had to be one of the hardest scenes . . . ever! He had to portray an angry, sadistic loony with severe mood swings! It didn't help when the disturbing, yet appropriate image of Mai-san sprung to mind! What the fuck!
Resigned to the fact that it will take forever to perfect the scene, even with Kaiba's direction, the feeling of gloom and doom remained. Chancing a glance at his voicing partner only made the feeling worse. The irritating man was smirking at his discomfort.
"Righty then," Ota-san began, but got distracted.
The actors watched with growing bemusement as the director started patting his body with a look of frustration imprinted on his face. That look did not dispel when he found the item of his search. It was his phone. Glancing down at the display, Ota-san looked surprised before answering itl. His audience's curiosity heightened from the man's reaction. The fact that he was laughing did nothing to quell their interest. The call was short and after hanging up, Ota-san stood up and exited the control room.
"Please excuse me for a minute," he announced as he made his way to the door and promptly disappear outside.
The room fell silent for a second before it exploded with commotion. Some actors showed no interest in the director's odd behaviour, others did not care to share their opinion on what made Ota-san leave in a middle of a recording session.
Only two remained impervious to the noisy chaos around them.
Yami and Kaiba stared across at each other, neither willing to break the silence—neither sure on how to strike up a conversation when the event's of the day before still crowded their thoughts. Ultimately, it was Yami who broke eye contact. Perturbed by the silence and the intensity of those cerulean eyes, he looked down at his script and pretended he was studying the lines.
He did not register one word.
"Think we can do this?" Kaiba asked almost playfully.
Yami gave Kaiba a quizzical look. He wasn't quite sure if the latter was asking about the scene or . . .
"The scene."
Ahhh . . .
Unwinding the scarf around his neck, Kaiba handed it to Yami. "Here take this, you'll need it."
Surprised, Yami glanced at the item and then glanced back at the man offering it. He shook his head and pushed the hand away. "No, it's fine. I can use my sleeves to the same effect." He covered his mouth with his arm and spoke in to it. "See!" came the muffled assurance. "Same thing."
Kaiba scorned his actions with a roll of his eyes and another thrust of his outstretched arm. He was in a generous and insistent mood. He would not take "no" for an answer.
Beaten, Yami reluctantly accepted the scarf and wound it around his neck after giving his thanks. Immediately, he was assaulted by Kaiba's scent. It took a lot of self-control not to bury his nose into the soft fabric and sniff to his heart's content. To keep his mind occupied, he absently caressed the exquisite material between his finger and thumb, and admired its softness.
"So, you think you can handle the scene?" Kaiba asked, his eyes studying Yami's face.
Yami stilled his hand and looked up at Kaiba. "You should worry about yourself if I were you," he said a little too sharply, the memory of the other's mean-mouth criticism making him defensive.
Kaiba arched a slender brow at the cocky statement and asked, "What do you mean?"
Yami raised a hand and twirled it offhandedly, grinning all the while. "Osiris gets to torture Obelisk in this scene and I get to hear you grunt with pain."
Laughing at the audacious comment, Kaiba leant over to Yami and whispered silkily, "Are you content with hearing me 'grunt with pain' . . . or would you prefer to hear something more . . . pleasurable from me?" Pulling away, Kaiba watched his companion flush to the tips of his ears.
Payback never tasted sweeter.
Yami, with his face flaming, watched the smirk on Kaiba's face widen. The delight gained from that suggestive remark at his expense, left him flustered and furious. How dare he be so presumptuous? How dare he assume he was the best thing since taiyaki? How dare he—
Yami stopped in the middle of his mental rant, his mind and eyes squinting on Kaiba's face. Gone was the playful smirk and in its place were lips curled in displeasure. Those mischievous eyes that were on him only moments ago were now adhered to something over his shoulders. Slowly, Yami turned his head, his eyes sliding away from the motionless Kaiba to the place where the cerulean orbs were fixated on.
An overly excited Ota-san had returned. Accompanied by two others. Both male. One was a tall and muscular donned in black sleeveless tee and black leather pants. His hair, the colour of corn, was short and spiked up with long sideburns framing his cheeks and accentuating his strong, square jaw. Yami immediately recognised him as the voice actor, Raphael. His voice had a warm deep quality to it. It was soothing, yet forceful. It reminded Yami of autumn.
Steering his attention away from the large actor, Yami turned his eyes to the leaner man shadowing him. Most of the man's hair was hidden under a floppy baker's boy hat with the exception of a few russet strands escaping its confinement. His eyes were shielded behind wide sunglasses. All Yami could make out was a pointed chin and lips that tilted upwards at the corners. He was dressed in a similar fashion to his companion; only his pants rode lower over his narrow hips. Where the larger man exuded strength, this one oozed sexiness. Could this be the reason for Kaiba's staring?
Confused, Yami looked back at Kaiba and saw the tightness in his jaw. No, Kaiba was angry—that much was certain—but with what or who, remained a mystery. Yami turned his attention back to the three in time to see the smaller male remove his sunglasses . . .
Amelda!
Stunned, Yami could only gape at the man he heard so much about . . . The man whom he had been compared and rivalled with . . . The man who currently had eyes for no one, but Kaiba Seto. Yami had the childish urge to wipe that smug smile off that man's face!
The room had initially gone quiet with the trio's entrance, however, once the shock had worn off, the sound of excited chatter could be heard.
"Yami?" A hand pressed on the small of his back diverted Yami away from his destructive thoughts on that sexy, annoying person and face the speaker. Kaiba never called him "Yami" before. Looking up the stoic man, Yami was almost overwhelmed by the intensity of the gaze—it felt as if Kaiba was clinging onto him like a drowning man.
Save me . . .
The effect left Yami stock-still as his mind whirled into motion to decipher the meaning of that expression. Save him from what? From confusion, anger or . . . pain?
Benevolence was what Yami in abundance and he could not ignore that silent plea—to disregard the expression revealed to him when that mask Kaiba stoically wore slipped during a brief moment of surprise. Standing on tiptoes, he leant towards Kaiba's ear, mimicking the other's action not long ago and went all-out neko* on him.
"Maybe I'll take you up on that enticing offer to hear 'something more pleasurable' from you . . ." he purred wickedly, the smile on his face left no room for misinterpretation to the meaning behind the words said in jest. He batted his eyelashes at him and threw him a 'come to bed' look for good measures.
Yami found the strangled groan he dragged from Kaiba, extremely rewarding. Judging from the revived smirk on that handsome face, it was apparent Kaiba appreciated the distraction—if not downright enjoyed it. "I'll look forward to it," he chortled, his eyes dancing with merriment.
Meanwhile, oblivious to the flirting and the play of hormones from two of the leading actors, a sudden clap of hands caused their gaze to falter. Yami tore his eyes away from Kaiba and turned to the direction of Ota-san, he didn't fail to notice Kaiba's eyes still on him as he steered his focus away.
"Sorry everyone for that interruption," the director said, putting his hands together in an apologetic way and bowing, "but I can assure you it is for a good reason." A wide grin spread across his face as he turned to his larger companion.
Yami felt Kaiba step closer to him—so close he could feel the other's body heat soak into his back. He swallowed thickly as the heat rose in his own body and warmed his face.
"I am delighted to introduce to a special member of our cast, albeit a temporary and elusive one. Please give a warm welcome to Raphael-sensei who has promised to be our Gadius."
A wave of shock sifted through the room that left Jounouchi, Honda, Rebecca and Shizuka looking stunned. Just how much of a secret was this particular casting, Yami thought. If the main culprits of tittle-tattling, namely Rebecca and Jounouchi, aka 'Broken Bonds' in-house gossips' were ignorant of Raphael's involvement in this project, it must have been a guarded secret. The only other person aware of this had to be the man standing behind him.
A round of applause soon followed the awkwardness and the newest member of Broken Bonds was given a welcome befitting his reputation.
Once peace was restored, Ota-san, much to everyone's relief, decided to sate their curiosity. "I guess an explanation is in order to justify why I've never mentioned Raphael sensei's participation and it's because I wasn't sure if he could make the time for it. Those familiar with the story should know Gadius is not a large role, but one I feel is significant to the nurturing of a few of our beloved characters. I wanted a powerhouse behind that character, one whose voice had authority and a mature quality to it."
Ota-san stopped briefly to allow his words to sink in.
"As you all know, when I began casting Broken Bonds I knew who I wanted to cast in certain roles: Kaiba-sensei for Obelisk, Marik-sensei for Ra, Shizuka-san for Kisara . . . and Raphael-sensei for Gadius."
Yami flicked his gaze towards Amelda who was, in turn, glaring at the speaker. The slight upward curve of Amelda's pursed lips pointed to the contempt he had for the director who refused to acknowledge his talent.
Then the glare turned towards him . . .
Fuming greys locked with his, the force of hostility emanating from them made Yami gasp. Like a venomous snake, the coils of menace wound around his body and squeezed the breath out of him. Yami unconsciously took a step back . . . and pressed into the wall of warmth behind him. As if sensing his distress, he felt Kaiba offer his reassurance with a light squeeze on his upper arm. As expected, it did nothing to lessen the animosity from Amelda. If anything, it increased it, which in turn, increased the pressure on his arm.
Kaiba, too, was observing the redhead closely.
Amelda returned the favour; his eyes softening as it alighted on his beloved's face . . . only to burn with insane jealousy when he discerned the hand possessively on him. Their closeness screamed 'intimate' and he hated it—he hated it with an all-consuming passion that made him tremble with rage. He barely stopped himself from marching up to that hateful man and forcibly rip him away from his love. He was certain this was an elaborate scheme to make him jealous because there was no way this demi-god would fall for someone so inferior—so beneath him.
There was no way that thing could retain someone of Seto's calibre by his side.
There was no way Seto would care for something so lowly—he was the only one allowed to get close to Seto . . .
Seto was his!
"Of course, I wasn't sure if I could get what I wanted," Ota-san droned on, oblivious to the silent confrontation between his leads with his guest. "But Fortune has been kind and freed Raphael-sensei for the afternoon so we may cover as much of his scenes as possible. If anyone is wondering, Amelda-sensei is just accompanying Raphael-sensei. Please make him feel welcome too."
Another round of applause was given. Yami tried to inject a little enthusiasm in the effort, but failed. He wasn't at all happy to be in the same room as Amelda and he had a feeling Kaiba wasn't particularly thrilled either.
After Raphael and Amelda settled into their seats, the director turned his attention back to Kaiba and Yami and, with renewed gusto, said, "Right! Let's continue where we left off! I do believe we were about to voice scene sixteen with Kaiba-sensei and Yami-kun. Oh, I can't wait!"
With a chuckle and a gleeful rub of his hands, Ota-san departed for the control room. Sitting down and exchanging a quick word with the techie, his voice boomed through the speakers once more. "Ready, Kaiba-sensei, Yami-kun?" The pair nodded. "Good. Pay attention then."
The silent scene rolled onto the screen and had Yami mesmerised. He watched Obelisk's movements, watched his interaction with Osiris and watched Osiris interact back. There was no doubt he'd require a lot of skill and luck to pull this one off. The scene was played and replayed several times over. Each time Yami attempted to memorise and familiarise himself with Osiris' expressions and body language, and interpret them into vocal expressions.
The task was easier said than done.
When it came to recording, he screwed up the timing and his lines. With each mistake made, he became more frustrated, mortified and disheartened. The weight of someone glaring daggers into his back didn't help either—he felt like a necromantic doll or a pincushion. He was lucky both his superiors were patient with him. Ota-san continued to encourage him, never raising his voice nor rushing him. It made him feel guilty for not being able to meet his expectations.
Surprisingly enough, his boss and co-worker, Kaiba was very forgiving. He did not exhibit any of that sarcasm and nastiness that dominated their first ever scene together. Yami had expected to be slapped with some kind of acidic remark when he repeatedly screwed up, but none came. Instead, he showed an astonishing amount of patience, which made Yami even guiltier than he already felt.
He felt shitty for letting them both down.
Completely dispirited with his nerves fraying and his confidence falling at the seams, Yami was beginning to imagine silent snickers from his audience as he blundered on. Amelda's presence really wasn't helping matters. He mentally groaned with frustration when another mistake was made and could only watch with self-loathing when Kaiba returned to his seat to fetch a bottle of water.
Twisting off the cap, Kaiba offered the bottle to Yami. "Here, drink this," he said gently. "Your throat must be dry."
Yami warily accepted the water and drank thirstily—not realising how dehydrated he was until he'd downed half the contents. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smiled and murmured his gratitude before returning the bottle to Kaiba.
Kaiba retrieved the bottle and took a large swig from it, his eyes never leaving Yami's face as he dared him to . . .
Crimson eyes widened comically at the implied meaning behind the act. Was that a fucking indirect kiss?
The shameless smirk Kaiba sported when he finished drinking seemed to confirm it. After placing the bottle on the floor, he straightened up and gave Yami a rather flippant reproach. "Spare me the sentiments and, instead, show me your appreciation with a good performance," he said, the smirk widening marginally. "Now let see if your Osiris can beat the shit out of my Obelisk."
And just like that, the challenge was set. Kaiba's words inspired motivation, strength and belief—belief in his abilities and belief the others had in him. He could do it, he told himself. He had to. With hopes of so many resting on his shoulders, he should not afford to wallow in guilt and shame, he should not allow such setbacks render him worthless. No, he had to show everyone he was Osiris. He had to show Amelda that Osiris rightfully belonged to him.
Yami grinned, the smile lengthening Kaiba smirked back at him.
"Yes, let's see how my Osiris whoop your Obelisk's ass, Seto-sama."
Kaiba scoffed at the title, but the smirk did not fade. "I'll look forward to it," he replied humorously.
Casting each other one final look, Kaiba and Yami turned towards the screen once more. We can do this, they thought simultaneously as the screen flickered to life . . .
Obelisk was casually walking through the open grounds of The Academy when he spotted a small figure slinking around the shadows. The dove grey uniform indicated the person was a student of the establishment, but there were two things that gave away the wearer's identity. The first was the person's supple agility—the liquid movements of the body and limbs that were evident in only two other students he knew. One was Ra and the other possessed the same shoulder length silvery-white hair as this person . . .
Osiris.
The teen snickered; pleased he was able to find some form of amusement to pass time since he also snucked out of class due to boredom. It was History and he abhorred History, in fact, he hated anything that required him to memorise, read and write. He couldn't understand why he was forced to learn about dates, events and the actions of dead people. Had it been Combat Training he would have gladly attended. Commander Zelua was a fine and skilled teacher, but no one could ever compare to the mighty General Gadius. Rumours said he'd be mentoring Osiris soon. Such coveted privilege caused chins to wag and The Academy's gossip mill to go into overdrive. Being the future ruler of Metahtes certainly had its benefits, thought Obelisk sourly.
A pang of envy forced the teen to scowl. The General had never mentored anyone before. Osiris was very fortunate.
"Nice being the prince, I suppose," Obelisk grumbled to himself, his eyes trained on the target who was creeping towards the shrubs and cluster of trees that decorated the perimeters of The Academy's grounds. It was a good distance away from the main building itself.
Still disgruntled with the special treatment the other was going to get, Obelisk continued his ramblings. "I bet the little guy's not even aware what an honour it is to be tutored by the great man—not with his record of skipping classes like he's doing now," he griped.
Stealthily blending in with the shadows, the teen was able to stalk his prey, his long legs giving him an advantage over the shorter boy and enabling him to catch up. So intent was Osiris on reaching his destination that he became sloppy and careless. He wasn't even aware he was being followed until an arm shot out from behind him and pinned his body to the assailant's, effectively negating his struggles.
"What the—" A hand covered his mouth and smothered his voice, cutting off his words in mid-sentence. An angry muffle could be heard beneath the hand, it sounded so indignant that Obelisk could not hold back his laughter.
"What was that, Your Highness?" he asked, the remnants of his mirth tapering into a chuckle. "Would you like to repeat that ag—"
Osiris bit him . . . hard.
"Why, you little sprog!" Obelisk hissed, pushing the boy away and inspecting his throbbing hand. There were two neat rows of teeth marks on the fleshy part his palm and it stung badly. He stared angrily at the little mauler and spat, "You know, for all your cute and angelic appearance, you are one vicious demon! Why can't you be sweet and pleasant like your sister?"
Osiris glared at the older boy, his anger rising. At the age of fifteen, his temper was famous. It was why his sister had given him advice on how to curb it. Such temper got him into trouble more often than not.
I must follow Nee-sama's words of wisdom, he told himself. I must control my temper. Let's take a deep breath and count to ten. Hopefully it will calm me down . . .
Osiris inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, he began counting steadily in his mind. One, two, three, four, five—
"Hey, Lord Vampire," Obelisk waved his hand in front of Osiris' line of vision before replacing it with his face . . .
Sod calmness! Osiris head-butted the said goofy face.
"Owwwwww!" howled Obelisk, as tanned hands flew to his forehead, his eyes wide and watery. "Damn you, brat! You seriously need to take a leaf out of Kisara's book and learn to behave like a Royal."
The "brat" flipped his white bangs over shoulder and glowered at Obelisk. "My actions and behaviour befits my status as a 'Royal', you vulgar commoner!" Osiris retorted snobbishly.
"Yeah, a 'royal' pain in the ass!" Obelisk retorted, still rubbing his forehead.
Osiris sniffed haughtily. "That is also my prerogative. If you don't like it, you can go away. I didn't ask for your company nor do I want it. Now shoo and leave me alone." Giving his companion a dismissive wave of his hand, the smaller teen turned and began walking away.
Obelisk straightened up and eyed the prince curiously.
Osiris stole towards a large tree—the largest one in the grounds and stood under it. Then, after a quick glance around him and deeming it safe, he started to scale it. With practised and cautious ease, the prince climbed until he was lost in the rich foliage. Obelisk strained his neck to catch the foot disappearing into the thick green vegetation. Sensing an adventure and a way to kill time, he followed the younger boy.
"What are you doing?" hissed Osiris, wearing an expression of irritation when his stalker, with his longer and muscular limbs, managed to catch up with him. "Didn't I tell you to go away?"
". . . And didn't I tell you to act a little more like your sister . . . all gentle, kind and sweet?" the other re-joined, looking up and giving his companion a toothy grin.
With a cry of exasperation, Osiris grounded a booted foot on the ebony head directly below him.
Obelisk flailed and thrashed precariously, nearly losing his balance and his grip on the branches when his tormentor tried to push him off. "Osiris!" he wailed. "Stop it!"
"Then GO AWAY!" Osiris insisted. The foot, though small, was a lethal weapon and was effectively crushing Obelisk's skull—which was not an easy task as Obelisk was rather thick-headed!
"Fine! If you want to play dirty, then I'll join you!" Flashing predatory grin, Obelisk grabbed the offending foot and tried to pull Osiris down.
His victim hung on, stubbornly refusing to let go and kicking out with his free foot in hope it would miraculously connect to some part of the person below—preferably that smug face! Panic started to set in as he began slipping; his opponent being stronger and heavier was dragging him down. Osiris cursed gravity for opposing him and lashed out with renewed vigour.
"NOT CUTE! Not cute AT ALL!" Obelisk shrieked, trying to dodge the attacks. "You should try being dainty like your sis— Offfppphhh!" A heel of Osiris' boot stomped on his head, silencing him. "Right, THAT'S IT! Desperate times call for desperate measures!" he roared and grabbed Osiris' by the waist of his pants and tried to yank it down.
"What do you think you are doing?!" Osiris screamed in alarm, thrashing and trying to squirm his way out of the other's strong grasp.
"I'm trying to make you stop kicking me! Now stop moving and I'll stop tugging. Okay?"
The squirming and kicking stopped.
Obelisk carefully ascended a little higher until his face was levelled with Osiris' knees. Grabbing the branch that the latter was hanging on, he was about to hoist himself up when Osiris put his foot on the dark head and used it as a springboard to push himself up.
"Good to see your big head has some use," the prince jeered and leapt to another branch, his laughter trailing behind him.
With a growl, Obelisk hurried after him and soon it became a game of pursuit. Good-humour fused with a little rivalry; the two boys strove to best one another. Osiris' familiarity with the tree enabled him to gain an upper hand, but Obelisk's stamina and strength made him a formidable opponent. The older male jumped from branch to branch with ease, sometimes surpassing his rival with a mocking comment that would awaken a surge of competitiveness from the smaller male.
Osiris hated losing.
"Come back here you, baboon!" Osiris shook with anger as he was fed a face full of twigs and leaves. Being whipped by branches in the face AND buttocks was NOT his idea of fun . . . had the recipient been Obelisk, it would have been a different matter altogether.
"It takes one to know one, chimp!" the other merrily returned, looking over his shoulder at the fuming male . . . and missing his footing on the next branch thus losing his balance. Luckily, he reacted quickly and was able to make a quick recovery. "Phew!" he blew out, relieved and hanging on the branch like a sloth. The lazy grin on his face did the comparison justice.
Laughing fiendishly, Osiris slapped Obelisk's forehead and yelled "Slowpoke" as he passed and continued on.
Higher and higher they climbed with the occasional yowl and the sound of swearing, teasing, tugging and kicking thrown in the fray.
"OW! Damn you, little bugger!" cursed Obelisk, nursing his arm. Osiris could pinch very hard.
"No, no, NO!" Osiris hugged the branch for dear life as Obelisk tried to tickle him to death. Trying to suppress his laughter, the failed attempts came out in short bursts of snorts—rather unrefined and unprincely snorts that coordinated with his wriggling and wild flailing. The branch creaked dangerously with every move. "F-f-fine, I yield! I give in! Have m-m-m-mercy . . . S-s-stooopppp . . . P-P-LEEEEEAASSE!
Obelisk huffed loudly and said, "Well, since you asked so nicely . . . I'll let you off!" He tickled the writhing body one last time and stopped.
The tortured teen flipped his body around and glowered at his former torturer, his usually pale face was flushed and his garnet eyes glistened with unshed tears. His hiccups punctuating the laboured breaths they both expelled from their heaving chests. With a nervous laugh, the pair flopped onto their backs, their limbs dangling off their perch; their smiles betraying the pleasure they felt.
Swathed in an aura of contentment, they watched the sparse glimmers of sunlight filter through the mass of green and brown above them—enjoying, despite their exhaustion—the peaceful tranquillity that surrounded their refuge. They had reached the part of the tree where the branches were thick and wide; it joined in such a way that they were able to sit in a semi-reclined position. The sturdy branch they chose cradled their wiry bodies comfortably.
"That was fun!" admitted Obelisk, giving his limbs a good cat-like stretch.
Osiris grunted his agreement before digging into his uniform pocket and pulling out a misshapen thing.
"What's that?" the older boy asked curiously, his eyes glued to the flattened lump.
Osiris looked at the other impassively. "It's honeyed confectionery," he dully supplied, looking down at the item and inspecting it with frown.
"Why does it look deformed?"
Slender shoulders lifted into a graceful shrug. "Probably because it got squashed in our little skirmish," came the candid reply as long, tapered fingers peeled back the wrapper and broke a chunk of the sticky, golden sweet. It was offered to Obelisk.
Sapphire blues eyed it suspiciously before taking it. "Thanks," he muttered. Another grunt was the reply.
An amicable silence settled between the two as they savoured the treat, it was broken when the older boy finished eating.
Obelisk looked at Osiris, his voice sounded strained when he spoke up. "I heard you are going to be mentored by General Gadius," he stated bluntly, in between the licking of sticky fingers.
Tensing up, Osiris paused in his nibbling and stared at the older male.
Obelisk stared back.
The prince dropped his gaze and the nibbling started again. He did not reply.
Dissatisfied with the dismissal, Obelisk continued, "You are so lucky to get this privilege. I wish I could get an opportunity like this. Even Ra was not considered worthy—"
"I don't want it!"
Stunned, Obelisk gaped brazenly at Osiris. He was horrified and downright offended by Osiris' outburst. How dare the little bugger not appreciate the opportunity given to him? How dare he brush off his idol—this living deity like he was a mere commoner? It was blasphemy—a sin committed against such power and greatness! Obelisk was ready to burst from indignation!
"Why?" Obelisk spat out the question in disbelief when he finally found his voice. "Most would kill, maim or beg to be under the legendary General's tutelage and you don't want it!"
Osiris' head shook with fervour, the pale hair swinging wildly about his face and around his shoulders. "No I don't!" he bit out stubbornly. "I don't want to be sent away from my home, my friends, my parents and my sister. I. Don't. Want. To. Go!"
At once, Obelisk was filled with understanding. Leaning towards Osiris, Obelisk peered warily at the younger; his face was full of concern as he said, "It's for your own good, Osiris. You need to be sent away because you need to be away from the distraction and the escapes." He gestured to their surroundings to enforce his point. "You need to focus on your studies and on your training. I heard it was a condition the General insisted on when he offered to mentor you. Do you know how fortunate you are to be given this chance—to be worthy of his attention?"
Osiris raised the confectionery to his lips, but changed his mind and dropped his hand back onto his lap. Instead, he chewed absently on his lower lip, which drew the other's attention.
Obelisk's brow knitted with concern when he saw the coral lips tremble. Blue eyes looked up and met watery garnet pools; it prompted the older boy to act instinctively.
"Oh come here, Osiris," he said, gathering the upset teen in his outstretched arms and folding them around him. The younger pressed his face into his chest and clutched the fabric of his jacket as if it were a lifeline. Muffled sobs and warm tears seeped through his uniform, but Obelisk ignored it. Instead, he held the smaller body and stroked the pale head, letting him vent his anguish.
"I thought if I tried hard enough . . . if I improved myself . . . prove that I do not need special treatment, they would not send me away. With my free time I read, studied and expanded my knowledge. I became so advanced that I had to be taken away from the normal classes and be tutored privately. I-I thought . . . I thought if I . . . W-why, Obelisk? Why?"
Obelisk had to strain his ears to hear Osiris' smothered protests. The bewilderment—the objections, damp and warm—resounded against his chest.
"We all knew you studied hard, Osiris," Obelisk assured, looking down at the obscured face which was still buried in his chest. "And Kisara's so proud of your achievement. When she heard the General selected you, she preened herself for having such a smart brother and rubbed it into Ra's face. Ra's reaction was priceless! It was so funny!" Obelisk guffawed.
Osiris produced a shaky laugh in response and pulled back to look at Obelisk's face. "Really?" he asked breathlessly, his eyes bright with the mixture of tears and delight. "She was really proud of me?"
Obelisk tugged down the sleeve of his jacket and held the cuff between the palm of his hand and his fingers; with it he blotted the tearstained face. "Yes, but not only her. We are all proud of you, Osiris," he murmured gently. "If you did not have the potential, the General would not trouble himself with you. Rest assured, he knows talent when he sees it." Obelisk grinned and puffed out his chest and smacked it a few times. "When he realises how awesome I am, he'll be begging to mentor me too!"
Osiris managed a jerky snicker. "Bah, who's preening now, peacock?"
Obelisk squinted dangerously at Osiris, but the cheerful tone belied its severity. "Hey, I have you know I have skills to back it up, Your Royal Snobbiness!" He stuck out his tongue and tweaked Osiris' nose.
The prince smacked the hand away and grinned. "Yes, yes, keep telling yourself that, truant!" He retaliated by playfully flicking a finger at Obelisk's forehead. As soft "thud" was heard.
"Pffffft, look who's talking, skiver!"
A white brow rose cockily at Obelisk. "At least I can afford to 'skive'. I heard your grades, with the exception of Combat, are dismal! Ironically, it's not because you are dumb that you are getting bad grades—it's because you are so lazy! Honestly, Obelisk, if you put some effort into your studies the results can be impressive."
Obelisk tutted and wagged a finger at Osiris, drawling, "Nah, its too much hard work involved! My strength lies in the power, which is why I am good at fighting and suck at everything else." A small chuckle met the remark. "I'll leave the brain-straining stuff for the likes of you and Ra. From the side-lines I'll watch you both grow old and bald with worry!"
Osiris swatted the frustrating male in the chest, but there was no anger behind the gesture. Sobering up a little, Osiris looked at the older teen gravely.
"Obelisk . . . "
"Yes?"
"Promise me something."
"Anything apart from studying."
"Look after nee-sama while I am away."
Obelisk pinched a rounded cheek and smiled. "Need you ask, Sissy? Of course I will."
Osiris flared up indignantly. "Don't call me that!"
Obelisk laughed and patted Osiris' head fondly. "Okay, Prince O' Serious!"
"OBELISK!"
"Hey, Osiris . . . "
"WHAT?"
"Are you going to finish that honeyed candy?"
The temperamental Osiris erupted. Again!
The voicing pair looked at each other when the film clip ended. Kaiba smiled wearily at Yami, who was clutching the scarf that dangled from his neck. His knuckles had gone white from the tension—the same tension that hung densely in the room as everyone waited for the director's verdict.
The small actor thought he'd done well enough, especially the part where Osiris burst into tears. All those times playing weeping ukes had enabled Yami to perfect his sobbing act—he could turn on the fake waterworks without even trying now. He looked up at Kaiba and gave him a timid smile. The way Obelisk tenderly comforted Osiris was so sweet, the voice so soft . . . so caring. Yami mentally slapped himself back to the present, his anxiety heightening as he gnawed on his lips.
The pregnant silence was becoming oppressive . . .
Finally, Ota-san spoke up; the delay in his words did not matter because the big grin on his face had told everyone what they wanted to know.
"That was magnificent, Kaiba-sensei and Yami-kun. It is with performances like this that I am reminded my choices are correct. You have both done us proud, especially you, Yami-kun. You have the ability to make me forget that you are still a novice and that is an impressive feat. Keep it up and you'll go far." Ota-san beamed into his praise. "Now . . ." he glanced at his watch, "I think we all deserve a break. Meet back here in thirty."
At the end of the announcement, people began to gather their things and head outside. Jounouchi, Honda, Shizuka and Rebecca had approached to the pair to congratulate them. After five minutes of teasing, the four left the room, possibly in search for the vending machine or a snack bar close by. Yami had wandered back to his chair and collapsed on it. Kaiba sitting beside Noa was deep in discussion.
Surveying the room, Yami saw it contained only a handful of people. Kaiba, Noa, Raphael and Amelda were amongst the few who remained behind. Amelda was listening to Raphael, judging by his pout and sulky countenance, he didn't like what was hearing. Those grey eyes kept drifting towards him and Kaiba.
Yami's eyes strayed back to the larger man and remember Ota-san mentioning Raphael tackling Gadius' scenes today. A smile flittered across the petit actor's face as he thought about the treat he was in for. The joy of being able to hear the man voice live was immense.
And then it dawned on him . . .
Most of Gadius' scenes are with Osiris.
Yami choked on the realisation, causing others to stare at him. Embarrassed that he was drawing unwanted attention to himself and aware that Amelda was ready to leap out of his seat and pounce on him, Yami stuffed his script and water into his bag and got up. Taking his first step towards the door, he felt someone's tight grip on his arm.
"We need to talk," a quiet voice said. The command was irrefutable.
Yami did not need to turn around to see who spoke; it was a voice he was beginning to love above all others. Closing his eyes, he knew he could not avoid the inevitable. The pace this man of contradictions set was sweeping him along and there was nothing he could do, but obey.
"Kaiba . . ." he whispered.
~To Be Continued~
O-o-O-o-O
Author's Note: Wouldn't you like to see Kaiba make Yami eat his words regarding the moaning, ne? And I hope you enjoyed the Broken Bond scenes—especially Obelisk/Osiris' one. Personally, I think the two are really cute together . . . Kisara? Who's she? Purpleshipping FTW!
Right then, that's another chappy done! That's two this month and I hope it will tie you over until whenever.
On a random note, how many of you squeal with delight when you see this updated? When I get an alert on the fics that I am ardently following, the feeling of excitement is beyond compare! I am curious to know if any of you feel that way when you see a new chapter of Voices posted? It's nice to know the fic can bring joy to readers like EeveeLover141—such knowledge is so rewarding. I thank each and every one of you who read, fave and follow this, but more importantly, I am indebted to those who leave me their thoughts. You, wonderful peeps, are the sugar in my candy, the bishies in my yaoi and the alcohol in my cocktails. I love you all so very much!
Anyways, enough with the sappiness and on with my request. In a future chapter, our boys (Kaiba, Marik and Yami) will be answering some questions from fans during an interview for a magazine. If you would like to submit a question, you may ask away—bearing in mind, the questions needs to be related to the fic or Broken Bonds and the topics, within reason. It'll be interesting to see what piques peoples' interest pertaining our three heroes.
Once again, I would like to thank: Mom!Princess, EeveeLover141, Shiroi no Yami, Arlownay1991, CrimsonSrawberry17, Ariana, my wonderful Candyworld, the lovely AyaSeth (yep, I owe you a reply), the inspiring, but stubborn JBubbles, my sweet, SWEET Mel, the cute and crazy Ma-chan, Plume Sombre, the brave and bold Yam (lol), my adorable and pervy Chibi and the ever Kaiba!possessive Ruby of Raven. You guys ROCK MY WORLD~! *hugs all*
Now, on with the anonymous reviews:
~Shiroi no Yami: I agree that Kaiba and Marik's approach to Yami is very different. One is open and direct with his pursuit whereas the other is indirect and subtle. Undeniably, their clashing personalities largely contributes to that approach and it's fascinating to explore how Yami 'deals' with their contrasting styles when he is their main goal.
I like the "fire and water" comparison – Marik being fire with his wild and warm personality and Kaiba is cool and calming (with a little unpredictability) like water. I kinda feel bad they keep falling for the same person.
I enjoy writing about Anzu in Voices. She's motherly, fangirly with a hint of craziness thrown in. I am sure there's a little piece of 'us' in her character, which makes her familiar and likeable. Those close to me know I am not a big fan of female characters (yes, I am a hard-core yaoi fan with the exception of two het pairings), but I try not to let it affect my writing. I try not to "bash" a character no matter how much I dislike them because it doesn't benefit my writing. In this fic, I portray a loveable Anzu whereas in Borrowed Existence, she is more exasperating. In both fics I try to keep her in character—using my interpretation of her character and taking advantage of it. I can portray a good side and a bad side of Anzu depending on the need. Neither depiction, I believe, makes her OoC.
Yes, Yami is lucky to be well loved, but then again, how could anyone not love him? I love the interaction between Marik and his Yami-chan, even when he is not around; he ensures his perviness is felt. That guy is shameless. There will be a little more of him in the next chappy too, bwahahahaha . . .
Yuugi's debut still has some ways to go, but when he does make an appearance, I will try to make it worthwhile. It will be my first time writing him in a larger role so I am rather nervous about it. I know how I want to portray him—I just hope I can pull it off. Hahahahaha, yes, a "growling Chihuahua" seems fitting for the protective pint-size kid and I can see him snapping angrily at Marik's ankles.
I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and thank you for your wonderful comments. I loved every word.
~Ariana: Yay, it's good to hear from you. *Hugs* I hope all's well with your exams and I hope this chapter was a pleasant respite from your studies. The tension is building now Amelda is officially introduced (or inserted, lol) into the fic and there will be plenty of chaos and mayhem to follow. Don't you just love complicated relationships, ne? *grins*
~Yami E: Yes, this is more like a 'filler' chapter, yet despite that, it's pretty long. I hope this chapter was more fulfilling for you. You are right, it can be seen as the prelude to disaster with Amelda now on the scene, there will be no rest for the wicked and jealousy is a bitch—a spiteful and possessive bitch, I might add~!
I highly doubt Amelda can stay away from Yami anymore than Marik . . . or Kaiba can, lol~! However, it will be interesting to see how the two rivals fare when they face one another. I think a little competitiveness is in order for our two nekos, don't you think? I think Kaiba should be flattered to have the Yami and Amelda fighting for him, right?
As for Jou and Marik, let's say their perviness make them willing allies . . .
LOL~! Don't worry if you haven't watched Star Wars, I was merely pointing out its influence on Broken Bonds. At least, I hope you like Broken Bonds despite its sci-fi/fantasy genre.
I am delighted you like all my work and I understand it's difficult to write a review when English is not your first language. It takes a lot of courage to write these few lines to me and I would like you to know that I admire and appreciate your efforts—that really means a lot to me. With that said, I would like to thank you for thoughts on Between the Lines. It's great to know you've enjoyed it. *Hugs* Once again, thank you for your continuous support.
*Neko –- means cat or cats with humanoid forms in the fantasy world, but is also slang for uke.