"Inmate! …. GET UP!"

Yami cracked his eyes open and stared at the disgusting gray ceiling peppered with spitballs, and he closed his eyes again.
Nope.
If they were shouting for him, they needed to address him by his name.

"06! Get the fuck up! Your fancy-ass lawyer is here!"

The metal door slid open with a heavy clang, and Yami opened his eyes again with a sigh.

Lawyer huh?
That explained the early hour visiting.

His cellmate turned over on his shoulder and smashed the pillow down on his face, grunting in annoyance as Yami passed him and held his hands out for the cuffs. They were snapped on his wrists while a second guard shackled his ankles, and he was marched down the narrow hallway that was unusually quiet because everyone was still asleep.

The watch on the guard's wrist indicated it was 6:04 AM.
This country was strange. He thought once he was behind bars, he'd be left alone.

He was marched into a tiny room with one heavily frosted window and was cuffed to the table as he sat down in the cold metal chair.
A camera was mounted in the upper corner and the guards stayed standing by the door with their backs turned to him.

Yami clenched and unclenched his fists in the cuffs, sleepy and irritated.

This lawyer meeting was interrupting his schedule. He was close to cracking the prison's culture, which would lead him one step closer to leaving this hole.

Footsteps approached the door and a man entered, but Yami didn't look at him, choosing instead to close his eyes and feign sleep.
Whoever the fuck this lawyer was, wasn't here to help him. He wasn't born yesterday. He was dragged out of bed to be interrogated, he could feel it.

"...Close the door, won't you, gov'nah?" The male voice across the way said, and Yami didn't move an inch, listening to the guards slide the door shut, trapping him in the ringing silence alone with the lawyer.

The silence stretched on for a moment longer before the man cleared his throat and began speaking, "nice to meet you, you may call me Valon. What may I call you? …You there, bruv?"

Yami grit his teeth and kept his chin tucked to his chest, his eyes closed, 'asleep'. Nope.
If there was nothing in it for him, he would not respond.

"Is he asleep for real? ….Ah, well, I'll just talk to meself then," the lawyer said as he shuffled something around and the telltale click of a pen echoed in the small room. "Atem, is it? Well I 'eard you can kill anyone."

Silence.

Yami made sure to keep his hands and shoulders 'relaxed'. Uninterested. That was flattery.

"I can get you outta here, because I fink you're too good to sit in a cell, ya get me, mate?" Valon continued easily, tapping his pen on the metal table with a rhythmic clink. "Just want you to do a favor for me, and we'll be square. Kill me boss for me. I hate 'im."

That finally made Yami open his eyes and he leveled his gaze with the suit across the way.
It was a young man with brown hair gelled into intentional spikes, and blue eyes.
A villain lawyer.

"Why, and when," Yami replied with a huff, and that had been the wrong thing to say, because the lawyer suddenly looked ecstatic, leaning forward so much, the table almost skidded.

"You'll do it? Really?! Just like that?! Man you must be bored in 'ere."

Yami lowered his gaze and stared at the man's shiny ballpoint pen, resisting the urge to snatch it out his hands because the man kept clicking it in and out of the chamber, the noise making his blood boil.

"I didn't say yes. I said why, and when," Yami said coldly, and the lawyer shifted happily in his seat.

"Why, its 'cuz I hate 'im, and when…. I can get 'im here to visit you as soon as tomorrah, what'dya say?" Valon replied with an urgent edge in his voice, eyeing the guards by the door. "How do you want to be paid? I can wire it tuh you…whatever account isn't frozen, right?"

I still haven't said 'yes' yet, Yami fumed silently and he clenched his fists to show he was annoyed.

"Why do you hate him and what has he done to you?" Yami pressed, thinking if this man wasn't going to give him a good reason, he wasn't going to do it. He wasn't bored 'in here'.
He was entertained, and his mind was full of the guard's schedules, names, hallway exits and entrance door timers…

"He's a bad boss," Valon declared with a puff of his chest. "He cuts my pay because I lost 'im a case, and I could be a better boss than 'im. He thinks he's so high 'n mighty, but once he's gone, I can run his company better than he can."

Yami said nothing.
Great. A selfish ingrate who just wanted an annoyance out of the way and thought that death was a solution.

"I want you…to put money into my account here, for this facility," Yami uncurled his fists and traced his finger on the table in a series of zeros. "This much. And if you can do that without raising suspicion, I can take care of your boss… Next week. This week, I'm busy."

Valon blinked and nodded slowly.
4 zeros. Doable.
Maybe too easy.
That was all he wanted? Stipend for this facility? Why?
And what the hell was he 'busy' with?! He was a prisoner!
Whatever.
He'd agreed and that was all that mattered.

"Alrighty then, I won't be seein' you." Valon said as he stood up to pick his briefcase up from the ground and moved to the door where the guards opened it for him, and he disappeared down the hall.

Shaking his head to himself, Yami stood slowly and let the guards uncuff him from the table and lead him back to his cell.

Well, if that money came through, he'd be able to escape by next week.
What a fucking sap.

Smirking to himself as he stepped back into his cell, the guards uncuffed him, patted him down, and left him in the middle of the room while they shuffled out and closed the door.

His cellmate was still asleep, and Yami sat on the edge of his bed to speak quietly, "Bonz...Are you awake?"

The man grunted and then growled, "What do you want?"

"Your hair cutting razor," Yami said, and the man hissed at him.

"You better be giving me your left nutsack for it if you think I'm trading you anything for that," the man muttered into his pillow. "Fuck off."

Yami lowered his head and stared at his own hands, feeling a rush of anger, but reminded himself to remain calm, because he had the urge to throw the man into a chokehold and kill him. The last time he did that, it landed him in solitary for 3 months.
And then psych ward for another 2.

Wasted half a year like that, because he needed a month to recover from the doctor's 'diagnosis' of him, and had to purge his system of the pills they were force-feeding him.
Killing his cellmates was not a sustainable way to live.
He needed to work with this man.

"20 grand in your account, for your razor," Yami tried, and all he got was a middle finger over the man's shoulder.
Fine. He would steal the razor at a later date.
Adding that to the list.

"Can I borrow it?" Yami tried one last time, and the man sat up to give him a dark look, his bald head gleaming in the low yellow lights.

"No," The man growled. "I dunno where you're from,Atem, but if I get transferred one more time, it's gonna be a hellhole deeper than this one. I'm not fucking around. They put me with you because I'm a model inmate, and they expect me to keep you in check. So consider yourself checked. You're gonna wanna shut the fuck up now."

Yami nodded and lowered his head to appear defeated, but inside, he was scheming for ways to barge in on the man's hair appointments with other inmates and steal a blade. It was so, so easy to do that….
This was a high security prison...which meant the hierarchy of prisoners was indicated by how well-behaved they were, and well-behaving people got more freedom, such as this man here.

He's cramping my style, Yami thought easily as he laid back down in the bed and decided to continue biding his time.

Yami closed his eyes and tucked his arms behind his head, letting the sounds of chatter from the hallway lull him back into a light sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, he heard rustling from the bunk across the way, and there were two guards standing at attention outside his door.
W-What?

Bonz was packing up his stuff in a cardboard box, taking down the drawings from the wall and placing his spare clothes into his pillow case. W-Where was he going?!

"Leaving?" Yami asked curiously as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and planted them down on the ground, hating how the man wouldn't even look him in the eye.

There was a tense silence, and the man stood by the door and waited, calling out, "finished!"

And the metal door slid open with a clang! Bonz was cuffed, the guards taking the box, and marching him down the hall.

Furious and confused, Yami jumped to his feet and raced to the door which shut in his face, so he called out through the thick barred window, "where's he going?!"

"Away from you!" The guard replied as slid the keycard back into his pocket and walked away.

Irritated but also pleased, Yami tried to look on the bright side.
Alone, meant more space and more time to plan by himself.
Alone also meant…slowly going insane with his own thoughts.

Sinking back down onto the bed, he realized his 'alone time' was short-lived, because they were parading another inmate over to shove into the cell.

This man was considerably bigger than him, with a wide jaw, tiny eyes, and a freshly shaved head, indicating a new inmate.

Eyeing him with weary caution, Yami watched the man be uncuffed and the door was slid shut with a clang!

The burly man turned around slowly to set his box down on the tiny desk in the corner and turned to give him a glare, then…rushed at him without warning.

Letting out a nervous shout, Yami braced himself on the edge of the bunk and kicked out, catching the man in the chest with his heel, stunning him for a second before the man came lumbering back at him to choke him.

Tired and furious, Yami fought back cleverly when the man's hands came for his neck, he shrunk down the moment he felt hot fingers grazing his adam's apple, and squeezed his shoulders between the man's forearms and elbowed the man in the neck, giving him a groin-kick for a good measure, backing away, panting, realizing two things.

One, the man wanted the cell all to himself, so the goal was to hurt his cellmate.
Two, the man was violent and didn't care for conversation, so the goal was to hurt his cellmate.

Cool.

"Got a name, asshole?" Yami hissed, and the man bared his teeth and stayed bent on his knees, huffing in pain.

"Spicy. You like to fight? I …also like to fight…" The man raised his head and leered at him, giving Yami a solid chill down his spine.
If he wasn't mistaken…

"You like men? Well, that wasn't very romantic," Yami replied as he rubbed his elbow where it was stinging from how hard he'd hit the man, and he could see a red mark forming on the large man's jugular.

The number stamped on his garbs was, '12008', so Yami committed that to memory and reminded himself to do some research on this man.
The arrest must've been recent so any newspaper would do.

There was a tense silence, and the man slowly rose to his feet and hobbled over to sit on his bed, appearing to accept defeat, but Yami knew all too well… This man would try to attack him in his sleep at the first opportunity. Dammit.
Throwing another wrench into his escape plans.
That lawyer's offer was looking better and better.

"You're pretty, Tiny," the man complimented him in a grating voice, and Yami blinked, not feeling anything.
What?

"You think I'mpretty tiny or pretty…?" Yami bared his teeth in a hostile grimace.
Fuck this gross pervert.
He wasn't sleeping at all now.
Now he was planning an escape without consistent restful nights. Great.

"Pretty, you heard me," the man chanced a grin, and Yami tried not to flinch at how ugly the man was.

"I might indulge you if you make it up to me," Yami said with an eye roll, and he wasn't prepared for the man to stand suddenly, having recovered from his groin-kick.

"Indulge me now, and I won't attack you again," the man threatened, and Yami blinked, really considering that solitary for another three months, vomiting pills for another two…would be a great alternative to this man.

"Okay, but I have rules," Yami said calmly, eyeing the door, knowing the guards would be walking by to do their rounds again in 15 minutes. "I want to know your name, and I want it to be…romantic."

The man's ugly leer widened and he stood, hovering by the edge of Yami's bunk with an obvious boner in his thin prison slacks, "you can call me Panik…with a K, because that's been a pretty good name for me these past few years."

"What do you do for a living, Panik with a K?" Yami asked coolly as he leaned back into his bed to grab his pillow, ready to smother the other man with it, but he knew it looked suggestive.

"I'm an Eliminator," Panik whispered as he put one knee down on Yami's narrow bunk. "I fuck bitches up and theypanic when see me. What do you do for a living… Tiny?"

Yami slid the pillow out of the case and fluffed it up, talking to it instead, "Let's not get the actual pillow dirty, okay?"

"I like where your head's at," Panik grinned evilly and leaned down on all fours to trap Yami underneath him, his beady eyes gleaming. "Is this romantic enough for you?"

"Almost," Yami replied as he whipped the pillow case over the man's head and drew his knees up to squeeze the man's head with pressure, mainly to muffle the man's shouting as large arms flailed around him, but there was nowhere to move because the bunk so tiny, and Yami felt meaty hands grabbing at his thighs, trying to push him off, but all Yami did was tighten the pillow case around the man's face and twisted the cloth under his neck, cutting off his oxygen while his heart thundered in his chest, counting the seconds.

45…. 46… Damn, this man was taking too long to suffocate…

He rolled on top of Panik's face and felt hands coming for his knees, trying to push him off, but Yami shoved his crotch into the man's face, sitting on him to muffle him further while he maintained an iron-hot grip on the pillow case, knowing this wouldn't kill the man, but it would make him more tolerable every time. If the man learned he would almost die every time they talked, he would eventually back off.

70…71…72… Panik was still flailing, but weaker now, and trying to roll over onto his side. All Yami had to do was use his other hand to brace himself on the top bunk to apply more pressure to his knees.

Guards walked by, peeking into every cell, and Yami hissed under his breath, not wanting to let up, so he rose up on his knees and sat back down on Panik's face, mimicking thrusting….knowing the visual from the back probably looked like he was tea-bagging the inmate in the face, which he was–through his clothes–while suffocating him.

Yami could hear a guard's footsteps approaching, and he squeezed the sides of Panik's face even more. Longest suffocation ever. The man was large and the pillowcase was a weak tool.

A guard noticed an inmate giving another one a blowjob, so he quickly leaned away and logged it into his pad.

Cell 169C, intimate…relationship. Next.

At last, Panik went limp, and Yami pushed the man off him with disgust, now considering the lawyer's offer with more seriousness. Anything to get out of this hellhole.
The brutes in this country were thick, fat, and ugly.
English wasn't his favorite language either.

Standing up to dust himself off, Yami turned around to drag the large man back over to his bunk, propping him up and throwing a sheet over him, before checking his pulse, just to make sure.

Yep he had a pulse. Good enough.

Walking over to inspect the box of belongings, Yami found a porn magazine, and a photo of a woman with large breasts and blonde hair. Yuck.

But the magazine…

Spitting on a page with dark ink, Yami rubbed it onto his fingers and turned around to face the grimy sheet of foil that was supposed to be a mirror hanging above his desk, and patted magazine ink onto one eye. When it dried out, he spit some more and ran the color on the page to continue smearing it onto his eye, flipping through the porn to find purples and pinks, mixing it onto his skin with a chapstick he kept in his own belongings.

There. Done.
Black-eye achieved.

Now for the hard part.

Yami ran to the bars and began shouting, "H-HELP! HE'S KILLING ME …. HE-HELP!"
He banged his palm on the door before deciding to throw stuff out of the bars, still shouting, "...CELL 169! PLEASE…H-HURRY! HE'S KILLING ME!"

Only stuff that would fit through the bars was the porno magazine and soap.

He then ran to pull all the sheets off his mattress and stuffed it in through the bars, making sure it would be hard for the guards to see anything.

Dashing around the entire cell, he upended the desk, sending everything clattering to the floor.

He ripped Panik's sheets, and the neckline of his prison shirt before covering Panik's face again out of spite, then spilled everything on his side of the cell, contemplating tearing open the pillow but then knowing he wouldn't be issued another one, decided against it.

He went back to screaming and made sure to keep the sheets stuffed up against the bars.

"HELP!..."

Then he sat down in the middle of the mess to wait, holding onto the end of the sheet…waiting… waiting… And sure enough, he heard a rush of footsteps approach, so he played a game of mini tug-a-war, with the guards shouting on their phones, and asking for permission to unlock the door while someone yanked on the sheet.
Yami yanked back, and his ass went skidding across the ground.

"They've obstructed the window! ….Cell 169! … Two inmates, CODE PURPLE! CODE PURPLE!"

Yami let go of the sheet and ran back to sit atop Panik's unconscious body, laying down and breathing hard to get his heartrate up, acting like he'd just won the fight.

He closed his eyes and heard the door slide open with a clang, and strong arms picked him up by the armpits and dragged him away backwards. Staying limp and still panting, Yami dropped his head forward and drew his knees up to his chest, starting his performance in earnest.

"H-He tr-tried to kill me! …I-I can't stay in this cell with him! My insides are bleeding!" Yami rolled onto the nearest guard's shoe and clawed his way up the man's leg, sinking his fingers quickly into the man's pocket, trying to find something, but he came up empty.
DAMMIT.
Empty pocket protocol.
Oh well.
The next place he was going was the infirmary or solitary, either of which was perfect.

"Get him up," a guard commanded, and he was yanked to his feet, cuffed loosely and marched out of his cell to the jeers and howls of the other inmates.

Yami stumbled for appearances and hung his head, hoping the guards wouldn't look too closely at his 'black eye' and kept his fists clenched to hide the ink on his fingers.

He was walked down a hallway he hadn't seen before, making his heart leap with hope.

Infirmary.

There was hospital equipment lined up against the wall, unused. Two beds, occupied, and a white-coat wearing individual who received him with a grimace and sat him down on an empty bed behind a curtain. Perfect.

Sitting on the thin mattress, Yami let them cuff him to the bed, and the doctor hovered over him while the guards filed out of the room, leaving them in silence.

The doctor sat down and gave him a firm up and down look, shaking his head.

"Okay, you're fine. What is really happening?" The doctor pulled up a chair and sat down on it with a tired sigh, holding up a clip board. "That's not a real black eye… Very clever. Best I've seen actually."

"No English," Yami said firmly, using a vague accent. "Lawyer please."

The doctor grimaced and shook his head.

"Not my call, buddy," the man replied. "You gotta use your account for that phone call. My phones in here don't connect to the outside."

Nice to know.

Yami hung his head and hunched his shoulders, whispering, "Man…rapes me."

The doctor tensed and his knuckles whitened over the clipboard, standing to grab an electronic pad to look up some information, and Yami took this chance to take in his surroundings.

Vents… No screwheads visible.
Two doors, no windows.
One exit, one entry, keycard bolt.
8 beds, one computer, one desk.
Only thing he might want to steal would be a pen.
Or a condom, if the doctor would so kindly give him one. Rubber was useful.

He quickly lowered his head to put on the act, and the doctor returned with his information.

"Wow, you're 19. You should be in juvie, not this place," the doctor commented with a shocked expression. "What did you…." And he fell silent when he scrolled down the list of assaults, mainly murder, premeditated murder, and poisonings. Oh… Wow.

"I want to stay here," Yami said plainly, aware that the doctor could see his file, and he wasn't trying to excuse himself. He was here to earn sympathy points. "You can help me? What is… Juvii."

He really didn't know. This country had slangs in english and he was stupid enough to be surrounded by brute-force agents to be thrown in a cell.
It wouldn't happen again once he left this place.
Places to avoid: USA, UK, Germany.
The list was getting longer and he was only 19.

"Well they have you marked as a…highly-trained… terrorist," the man replied with a shaky voice as he clicked the pad off and set it in his lap, unable to believe the small teenager sitting before him could've possibly done all those things in the list. "I see you're not even a United States citizen, but they don't care. You know where you are…right?"

Yes, obviously, Yami grit his teeth at the doctor's condescending tone, but understood that his age was an advantage he could use.

"Jail," Yami said flatly, and the doctor shook his head in disbelief with a huff of mirthless laughter.

"This isn't your local county jail, buddy. This is a level 2 blacksite. They don't care about your nationality here, and getting you a lawyer…isn't something we do here."

That's what I thought, Yami had to resist rolling his eyes. That's why the only lawyers able to reach him were also corrupt. Telling. Very telling.
Then…he'd milk this visit for everything he could.

"Condom, please," Yami said, keeping his eyes downcast and feeling his ears heat up for real. G-Goddammit.
He would never in a million, thousand, billion years ever lose his hole virginity to a man.
Men were disgusting pigs and they all deserved to die painfully.
He'd watch them die with joy.

And he could feel waves of pity emanating from the doctor as the man said, "...I can't give stuff like that out, but I can keep you in here for a week, and say you need eval. How's that? A week is what I can give you. A week of…safety. Can you understand me? Your file says 'fluent in English'..."

Good, Yami raised his head and made sure not to blink, forcing himself to cry 'grateful' tears. His nose stung and he had to blink rapidly and lower his head to cover his face with one hand, pretending to be ashamed.
He made his shoulders shake for an additional bonus.
He'd only be 19 once, so he was making use of it.

"Okay…uh here's a …tissue," the doctor mumbled, pushing a box of wipes to him. "And I'll get you a shower. Wait here."

Sitting back into the bed, Yami dared to relax.

Vacation started now.

Author's note:

Yami's backstory, part 1. The story could've started like this but i figured no one wanted to read a random violent jail scene that didn't have Kaiba in it :P