The Magicians' Realm Chapter 31: Explanations, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

Chapter 31, everybody! In which we encounter awkward emotions and…stuff. Uh…emotions are hard. :-|

And yes, there really is a minimum height requirement to join the Rockettes—I'm about two inches too short. :-\

Angiembabe, thanks for the review! Yep—an absolute imbecile. Yes, it's a pity, but then Yami might have hurt his hand, and we don't want that. :) Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! :D I wasn't entirely sure about it, but it was fun to write, so there you go. :D

Fromtheashtrees, thanks for the review! That makes two—Otogi might get knocked out after all. Yes it would, but that which is satisfying isn't always appropriate. I know! I think the Internet would really benefit from more people thinking twice and typing once. True—and yes, the ability to sleep anywhere seems directly linked to how comfortable it is for the person over how tired they are (sleep=comfort/exhaustion :D). Saying that, there are certain places where one is guaranteed to wake up with a crick in their neck. :P Hey, nice! An assignment that is quite certainly in danger of someone eating it…better keep an eye on it! ;)

References:

Original characters + setting © Kineil D. Wicks (myself, not the girl in the story)

"Teana! Wait! Teana!"

"You're making a scene again," Teana sighed, turning to see Yami Skellington running down the street towards her. With his cape streaming behind him and gangly limbs going everywhere, he made quite the sight.

Of course, he had made quite the sight when he was a few shades away from blowing his top, too.

He caught up with her, caught his breath (still winded from the punch, she figured) before talking.

"Is it all right if I get to the point I was going to say before…that guy?"

"Let me guess: you want to tell me you're sorry," Teana said.

"That was…very good, actually…."

"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?"

"I figured I offended you in some way…I'm actually hoping you'd tell me…."

"You're about to apologize for living longer than I will."

"Oh."

"You really don't get it, do you?"

"Idgy explained some of it to me." He straightened up finally, looking down at her and looking like he'd start twisting his toe in the dirt. "Um…I…hadn't given death much thought, to be honest…."

That was in distinct contrast to her. "I figure Magicians don't," she said flatly. "Good night."

"Can't I—"

"Not tonight, Yami," Teana tossed over her shoulder. "And if I see some big bird on my windowsill, I'm throwing the neighbor's cat at it."

*/*\*

Yami was startled out of his nap by sounds of pain.

He shoved Horus off of his eyes and sat up just in time to see his father come back, wearing a look of supreme irritation as he dragged a protesting Bakura along by his ear.

"Seriously?" Yami couldn't help but ask. "Dragging him in by his ear? People still do that?"

"It was either this or throw him in the dungeon," Greg said. "And I can't do that anymore."

"Can't you?" Bakura managed. "I want to see if I can't beat my best time."

Greg blew an aggravated sigh and pitched Bakura forward, pointing at the other chair by the desk as he did so. "Sit," he commanded.

Bakura did so, not immune to the vocal magic.

Yami counted the seconds to see how long it took for his father to compose himself. His eye twitched when he went past seventy. Ooh, this was going to hurt.

"Do I even want to know," Greg asked slowly, jerky hand movements indicating he was trying to keep from a full-blown rant. "What you two were planning on doing?"

"We weren't planning anything," Yami said.

"We kind of make it up as we go," Bakura interjected.

"Bakura!"

"Shut it, both of you!" Greg snapped. "Do you have any concept about how this looks?"

Yami and Bakura both carefully shook their heads.

"Well since you're both playing dumb, let me enlighten you: it looks like you, Yami, were distracting me while you, Bakura, were sneaking into the Restricted Section and stealing spellbooks. That's enough to have you, Bakura, killed and banished; and you, Yami, stripped of every last ounce of magic you possess."

The boys flinched, shuddered, and crossed themselves. Death followed by the banishing of the deceased's bones was bad enough—those who suffered that fate would never rest in peace. It was heavily implied to be the final fate of Skellington and his cohorts.

Those who were stripped of their magic often went mad—for a Magician, magic was an integral part of them. Losing that often took their minds as well. And then the slow wasting away that followed, the frantic scrabbling at any magical source, that often necessitated being relegated to an asylum to protect others—death was often a welcome experience.

"That…seems a little harsh," Bakura managed finally.

"That's because those books are restricted for a reason," Greg said. "And those who go in there to get them usually aren't well-adjusted people pursuing academics." He turned to Yami. "I know you're frustrated, but this is the absolute worst thing you could possibly do."

"I doubt that," Bakura muttered.

"You be quiet before I hex you. Now, both of you—you are hereby banished from the Administration Building until I tell you otherwise. Bakura, if I see you, hear you, or even smell you here again, I'll break your hands."

Bakura grimaced—for the thief, that was a punishment up there with death and banishment.

"Yami, no more excuses," Greg continued. "Unless someone in our immediate family is about to die, I don't want to see your spiky head anywhere near this building. Are we clear?"

"Yes," Yami muttered.

"Transparently," Bakura groused.

"Good," Greg said, pointing to the door. "I'll walk you out."

"No need for—"

"There's very much a need for it—I want to make sure you go out and stay out."

*\*/*

Teana was almost finished with her shift at her noon job when the bell above the door dinged.

She glanced up in time to see Kineil rapidly cross the floor, pointing at her.

"YOU," Kineil stormed. "Fix Yami. Now."

Teana blinked, nonplussed, then winced as a phantom pain started. "Why?" she decided to ask. "Is he broken?"

Kineil rolled her eyes and gave an aggravated gesture; Teana's phantom pain went away, she noted. "In a way—he's moping."

"And?"

"And? He's insufferable! One day of this, and already I'm trying to figure out how to get away with killing him! He's just been wandering around the house—and you'd think with a house that size I'd be able to avoid him, but he's somehow in every room!" Kineil leaned against the counter, a look on her face saying something odd occurred to her. "I could probably open my closet and find him in there. What is this place, by the by?" she asked suddenly, looking around.

"It's for bookkeeping," Teana asked, unsure what to make of the change in topic.

"Does a Mordecai Heller work here?"

"I think he might have the shift after mine—I don't know."

"It would be before the night shift—he mentioned he had a day job, aside from the books at the Revue. Did you know there's two Hellers in Delvaire? Mordecai that Atlas imported and another one I got a hold of by mistake when I was calling the former. How common would you think a name like that would be, anyway?"

"I have no idea. Back to your problem: why don't you stay home?"

"I already told you."

"Why is Yami at your house?"

"Because I live at his. I used to room with the boys—Heph and Vul—but they blew it up. So now we're living with Yami until a renter somewhere is daft enough to rent to us."

"Why were you living with two men?"

"Because I like to live fast and loose. Get your mind out of the gutter already. And go fix Yami."

"Would he have happened to explain why he was moping?"

"I got the story out of Idgy."

Idgy again. "Let me guess, you placed a bet."

"I didn't—conflict of interests on my account."

"Did Yami send you?"

Kineil barked out a laugh. "Please—if he had sent me, I would have come in with much more flowery prose: 'Yami asked me to ask you if you would be so kind'…bunk like that. No, he's too busy walking around the house in a daze."

"I suppose a return statement is out of the question."

"Call him yourself. My intent is to either drag you to him, or him to you. Besides, it's too easy for you to hang up with a phone conversation."

"Maybe you ought to mend his feelings—it'd be best for him to be with another Magician, anyway."

Kineil glared at her, prompting that phantom pain to start up again.

"Miss Wicks," Teana pressed, leaning on her elbows and hoping that pain wasn't her appendix. "Think about it, since it's obvious Yami didn't and you seem accomplished in explaining things in small words to him: Magician life expectancies tend towards millennia. Commoner life expectancies tend toward a couple of centuries at most. It wouldn't work."

"I already told him he ought to get a record of you saying that," Kineil said. "It'd save the rest of us some grief."

"Then please, go inform him."

"You're coming with me if I do."

"I think you can handle him."

"Ha!"

"So it's not just him—all Magicians are like this."

"And what makes you think I'm a Magician?"

"Orange eyes, for starters?"

Kineil looked remarkably amused by that statement. "Oh, these? Anyone can get those, if they're willing to make the trip. And they may make me an inherently magical being, but according to the Administrators, I am not a Magician—I don't meet the minimum requirement."

"Do what?"

"I know, right? Apparently, there's a minimum magical threshold that you have to pass in order to be considered a Magician—like how there's a minimum height requirement in order to join the Rockettes."

"Why?"

"I guess so there's not a nice even line and then a dip—"

"No, why a minimum magical threshold? How do they even measure that?"

"So they can properly and further separate the Commoners from the Magicians—like design aesthetics don't do that already. And I don't know, by the way. But back to brass tacks—fix Yami. Before I violate the Sixth Commandment."

"You haven't already?"

"Your confidence in me is appalling."

"Fix him yourself," Teana said, punching out, picking up her coat, and leaving.

Kineil pursued. "No, I can't fix him—don't you think I've tried? I'm coming to you because I figure you can fix him. And you're good for him, to be honest."

"He's not good for me," Teana returned.

"And why not?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because I want him to have what he wants—even if it means you instead of me."

Teana stopped, turned to face Kineil, who had also stopped and was now looking very uncomfortable.

"I…uh," Kineil noised, arms flopping helplessly at her sides. "I…never looked because…and well, you don't want to ruin a friendship over that sort of thing. And then he never really…he's always viewed me as his little sister—he's always wanted one, apparently. And then you come along…and that was the end of that." Here Kineil looked at Teana directly. "I don't know a thing about love—if I did, I would have done something by now. I didn't do anything, but I still care for him—and at this point, this is the only way I can think of to make him feel better."

Teana stared. "Didn't—didn't you ever say anything?"

"Weren't you listening? No—I like being friends with Yami, and the longer I didn't say anything, the more I realized it's probably more of a crush than anything else. If I said something and it didn't pan out, we'd be doomed to awkwardly avoiding each other—kind of like how you're doing."

Teana pondered this.

"Tell him," Teana said finally. "That I'm not built for relationships. I've had them fall apart before, and I don't want to risk it again."

"Tell. Yami. Yourself," Kineil stressed. "I'm not the messenger."

"Then why are you here?"

"I told you this."

Kineil turned on her heel and left.

"Tell him how you feel about him!" Teana yelled after her.

"You first!" Kineil shot back.

Teana blinked, then walked away, passing a man with dark hair and round glasses.

"Sometimes, I wonder why I left Norkyew," the guy said.

"Mordecai?" Teana guessed. The guy nodded. "Any suggestions?"

"My plan was to try a mirror next, to bounce that glare of hers back at her."

"Anything else?"

"Move."

And with that, Mordecai entered the bookkeepers, leaving Teana with the worry that that was really the only feasible option left.

This sort of thing was so much easier in fiction, she decided.