I'm not really sure how this happened, but I just got off a train here in
Tokyo with Kitty, His Highness (I need a shorter nickname for him; that's
getting a bit cumbersome), and Tree Up His Ass Seto. I never pictured
myself coming back to this damn city, but if I had, it wouldn't have been with
this group. Well, Kitty maybe, but definitely not the other two.
Hell, we couldn't even let them near each other on the train, and squeezing
Kitty and myself between them was... interesting. I think the Bossling (Hmph,
still too long) has an imprint in those jeans where I ended up half-sitting in
his lap. And I'm still a little stumped on why Mini-Me is still at my
apartment, alone with my brother, and Kaiba Seto took his seat. I
know Bossling (not any better) had a royal hissy fit, Mini-Me did those lethally
pitiful eyes, and I was forced to agree on that front. Treeboy pretty much
said, "I'm coming," and that, as they say, was that. I'm
surrounded by weirdoes. My cat is most normal of the lot, and that's
definitely saying something.
So... Tokyo. Hell. Same thing really. Why did it have to be here? Why couldn't it been Osaka? Kyoto? Or even Okinawa? No, it had to be Tokyo. Damn you, Mahaado. Somehow, I'm sure this is your fault. I'm not sure how yet, but it has to be his fault. I've already established it cannot be mine, after all.
An elbow taps my side, and I glance over to see the Bossling (I'll have to keep working on this) staring at me curiously. "Are you okay?"
He sounds a lot better. Guess the nap helped. I wouldn't know. I didn't get one; between arranging our tickets, arguing about Mini-Me, getting everyone on the train, and keeping the children separated the entire way here, there simply wasn't time. Their loss. They'll be the ones putting up with my cranky, sleep-deprived ass.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"You've been glaring at that trashcan for five minutes."
"...I hate Tokyo."
He looks confused, and for once, I can't really blame him. I'm not following my own logic there. He seems to recover quickly though. "Kaiba and Jounouchi-kun went on ahead." He raises his arms over his head to stretch. And I'm not admiring the ab muscles that reveals. Really. I swear. "Or I think Jounouchi-kun went ahead, and Kaiba decided to follow."
"What's your problem with Treeboy anyway?" slips out of my mouth, and even I blink in surprise. Sure, I've been wondering about that for a while, but I wasn't exactly planning on voicing that question any time soon. Might as well press on while I'm at it, though. "I mean, he pisses me off the way he tries to come of all cold and badass and shit, and he's damn sure not good enough for Ki- for shit, but I don't hate him like you do. So why?"
He narrows his eyes to regard me suspiciously. Great, I made him paranoid. "Why do you want to know?"
I shrug. "I guess I'm just curious. And I want to know how much of a jackass he can be." So I can try to anticipate how many bones I'll have to break if he hurts Jounouchi-kitty in any way.
He kicks an empty can that clatters into the street to be crushed and sighs deeply before finally speaking, like he has to decide if he's going to or not first. "He beat Jiichan then went on with that 'I'm the best - look at me' attitude of his. It pissed me off. Then a few months later, all sorts of bad stuff started happening to our family. It was like the Game King title was our personal talisman, and he took it away from us, making us lose our protection. I don't think I'm ever going to forgive him for that."
He starts walking away from me, and for a few long seconds, I can only stare after him. I don't know what I was expecting the answer to be, but it sure as shit wasn't that. I mean, that was unexpectedly deep for him. He seriously needs to quit making me rethink my positions on him. Of course, me being me, I recover quickly and run to catch up with him with a smart-ass comment already formed. "And here I thought he stole your favorite card or something. I was all prepared to call you immature."
That catches his attention. I rather thought it would. "Me? Immature?"
I can't help but laugh. "Who had to have two people sitting between him and Tree Up His Ass Seto? Sure wasn't me. I mean, I'm fucked up, and I'm more mature than you two were acting."
It seems to take an effort, but he mutters, "Sorry about that. He just grates every nerve in my body wrong."
"Just put up with him till we leave Tokyo, is all I ask, Yami." I glance around, gauging where we are. "So where do we want to start?" University of Tokyo is quite a walk from where we are now, so -
"So you are capable of calling me by my name and not one of your weird nicknames."
I blink a few times. I called him Yami? Or Atemu? Oh, wait, yeah, I did, I realize on mental backtrack. I didn't even notice. That's twice tonight I've slipped.
"Yeah, well, all the names I have for you are either too long or not fit for polite company, so you'll have to be 'Yami' till I come up with a new one," I retort. Not one of my better ones for sure, but hey, it is short notice and I'm still a bit puzzled as to why I keep slipping up on his name. I mean, not only is it annoying, but there's also a little danger to it: What if I slip up somewhere else, on a job maybe? Thieves cannot afford to slip up.
Have I mentioned before that he's a smirking bastard? Because he is. But that definitely broke the funk he was slipping into before it even got started good, so I'm going to go ahead and count that a tentative check in the positive category. Now I have to add another question to my ever-growing list - why do I give a damn if he's in a bad mood or not? Okay, this one I can work out on my own: He's a lot easier to work with when he's in a good mood, and like it or not, I am stuck with him, not that I think that it'd be too hard for me to lose him, since I'm pretty sure I know Tokyo a lot better than he does, even after two years. I don't want to hear about it from the Bossman, though, so I'll be good - for now. I'm allowed to pout a bit though, and I think I shall.
And while I'm pouting, I'll work on what we need to do next. I should still have contacts here in town, but I probably shouldn't contact Diceboy or the others just in case word gets back to people I'd really rather not see again. God, I hate -
I actually have to stop and look over my shoulder at him. Now that was just fucking weird. "What?"
I don't think I can describe the look in those red eyes: hopeless, nervous, resigned, and... something else I don't want to think about, all trying to fight their way out at once. "You really don't like me, do you?"
I scuff the toe of my shoe against the sidewalk. We're blocking traffic, but somehow I fail to give a shit, like I ever do. He's not looking directly at me, but then again, I'm not exactly staring eye-to-eye on him either. "...I'm starting to dislike you less," I finally mutter then have to wonder where the hell that came from. I mean, I usually try to be honest, but not that honest. And where did my 'off' switch go?! "You're not too bad most of the time. I... don't hate you."
He's still another moment then smiles. Not a smirk, for once - an honest-to-God smile. I didn't think he could do that. "I'm glad. In spite of everything, I've been enjoying getting to know you better and hang around you and all."
"It's been interesting," I concede. I guess I've been enjoying myself around him as well, when he's not acting like a spoiled brat. No one else can quite keep me on my toes like he does. Not that I'm telling him any of this. It'll go to his head, I'm sure.
"I think I'm starting to like you." Based on the sudden splash of color across his face and the expression he's wearing, I don't think he intended to toss that one out there, at least not quite like that. It's kind of amusing to see him squirming, though. The hard part is not laughing when he covers his mouth and starts to walk away.
After a moment, I run to catch up with him. "You're pouting, Yami."
I snicker at how uncomfortable he sounds. Now, how to put this? "You know, you confuse the hell out of me, but when you're not being a brat, you're not too bad."
"Thanks, I think." He pauses and looks around. "We should talk about this later."
I nod in agreement. "Jounouchi-kitty didn't say how long he'd be gone, did he?"
He shakes his head. "No. He just took off with Kaiba on his heels."
Well, the latter part is a bit of a surprise, but somehow I'm not surprised Jounouchi took off after the trouble Treeboy and Yami were on the train. The surprising point was that I didn't kill them or Kitty didn't eat them or they didn't get us booted off the train. Which was more likely is hard to say; neither Kitty nor I are renown for our long grasps on our tempers.
"Then I'll call his cell when we've turned something up." It's the best I can come up with for right now, especially since he'll need more time to calm down than I do. I'm not going to try for anything better anyway, not tonight anyway. I know my limits that well at least.
"You think we'll find something here?" Yami asks.
"Mahaado said the answer we're looking for would be here, somewhere in the city." Normally I'm not one for blind faith, but something tells me the clock is ticking and that's a feeling I find I don't much care for. And Mahaado hasn't steer me wrong (yet) so I guess I can give him the benefit of the doubt for now. And yes, I am a suspicious bastard, but people who claim to be nice for the sake of being nice and aren't the brat make me nervous. I can live with ulterior motives, really. "I think he knows what he's talking about."
Yami snorts in apparent amusement. "We'll see, I guess. On to the University?"
I shrug. "Might as well. We're damn sure not turning up anything here on the -"
What feels like a ton of... something hits the back of my head. I have about half a second to see stars and feel someone - Yami, I guess - grab me before I hit the ground before the world goes black.
I fucking hate being knocked out.
My head is fucking pounding. Yes, that's the first thing I notice. I don't think I've got a concussion though. I hope I don't. I've had enough of them to last a few lifetimes, thank you very much. I should be an old pro at them, I guess, but that doesn't mean I like them any more now than I did way back when I got my first one. And every one I've ever gotten, I got in Tokyo. I fucking hate Tokyo. I guess we're still in Tokyo now. I'd hate to have been out long and missed much of all this fun and joy. I wonder if they - whoever "they" are - grabbed Yami and the others too. I wonder how many pieces they're in if they grabbed Kitty and Treeboy. Damn, I wish I'd seen that. I bet it was a riot. Probably blood, guts, and body parts everywhere.
I have to snicker to myself at that thought, and whatever I'm leaning against shifts most displeasingly. "Kura?" And that's Yami's voice. I wonder why he sounds worried? It couldn't for me. I mean, really. Until recently, we hated each other, didn't we? No way he's worried about me, right?
Anyway, I guess this means whoever decided to use my head as a pi�ata decided they wanted a Yami too. Who knows why? I don't think the collection value is that great, but that's just me. Then again, we are talking about someone's who is definitely a one of a kind - and what the hell am I babbling on about now? Okay, opening my eyes to see what the hell is going on here.
The first thing in my field of vision is a pair of legs encased in too tight jeans. I guess I could have smacked my pillow when it moved since apparently I was napping on Yami. So why am I using him as a prop? I mean, what in the name of hell is going on here?!
"Are you okay?" And even though he's whispering and I've finally sat up, we're still close enough that his voice sounds loud in my ear. Which, may I add, is rather odd.
"I'm fine," I grump, feeling the back of my head gingerly. If we're talking goose eggs, this one's probably not a prize winner, but it's most likely a contender. Not to mention it hurts like a son of a bitch. At least it's not bleeding though. That'd be all I need, especially here in Tokyo.
And looking past Yami, there's Treeboy and Kitty on the other side of the small room, sitting on some kind of oversized chair. Or rather, Treeboy is sitting in the chair with an unconscious Jounouchi-kitty in his lap. Hell, he's even wearing Treeboy's jacket and - unless I miss my guess - nothing else. Even his collar's gone, so he must have shifted and shifted back quickly. No wonder he's out for the count. Obviously it wasn't here either, since I don't see any piles of Werekitty goo on the floor. Guess 'they' picked us all up after all.
"He shifted?" I have to ask Treeboy, even if I already know the answer. Hell, maybe I can find out what the hell I missed while they had me counting sheep or whatever.
"He did" was all the answer Treeboy gives. Why am I not surprised? Man of few words, our Kaiba is. Why the hell does Kitty like him? I guess I should have tried starting with a smaller miracle. Anyway...
I turn on the bed we're sitting on so that I'm facing Yami and start taking his collar off. "Hey!" he exclaims, slapping at my fingers. He sounds so offended that it's actually rather amusing. "What're you doing?"
"Kitty told you what Hirutani did, right?" He nods slowly. "He needs this more than you do right now." Finally getting it off, I eye the buckle critically. "This isn't silver, is it?"
He shakes his head. "No, it's not."
"Good." Collar in hand, I climb to my feet warily. Thankfully, the room only spins a moment, and I cross over to the chair. Starting to lean down to put it on Kitty, even I'm startled when long fingers wrap around my wrist. I follow them up to Seto's face and have to blink in surprise before regaining my composure. "Help you with something, Treeboy?"
"I'll do it." I open my mouth to retort when he continues, "I've seen the scar."
Well, I think you could knock me over with a feather right now. The hell? When? How? "Excuse me?" Hey, at least I kept it mild. Better than 'the fuck?', you know.
"When we get back to Domino, I'm picking your brain. I want names and addresses."
I feel my eyes narrow. Oh, how I hate being talked down to by someone acting all high-and-mighty. "Well, I'm glad you acknowledge my omniscience, Treeboy, but -"
He interrupts me, plucking the collar from me. "Sit down and shut up, thief, before you fall down."
I'm going to take this collar and shove it so far up Treeboy's ass that it comes out his eyeballs. I'm going to kill him in the most creative ways possible. I'm going to - Apparently, I'm going to fall backwards onto the bed. What the - Oh hell. Oh hell no. "Yami," I grind out.
"Yes, Bakura?" He says so casually too, like he didn't just grab the back of my jacket and yank me down on the bed with him.
I start to cross my arms over my chest then think better of it and just scowl. I'm not going to resort to acting as immature as him and Treeboy. I'd love to flip him off, though, or do something he wouldn't expect. Maybe later, when we're not up to our asses in trouble... again.
"Jounouchi?" Well, well, sounds like Kitty's stirring. And Treeboy sounds like he might just have half a nice bone in his body, if the faint concern I can barely hear in his voice is any indication. Kitty's definitely awake now though, since he's staring up at Seto. I wonder what he sees there though. "You've been out a while, ki - tomcat." Oh? I grin. What did he almost say? "You all right?"
Jounouchi-kitty is silent a second then winces. If I know Kitty - and I'm pretty sure I do - he's doing some pretty fabulous mental cursing. Finally he lets out a quiet meow.
And Treeboy looks so damned confused for that split second that I have to put my two cents worth in. "Take that as a 'no'."
"Why can't he speak?" And there Treeboy goes with that high-handed attitude of his. Hell, he's not even bothering himself to look at me when he's talking to me. I guess I can't blame him for keeping his attention on Kitty, but still... And good, Kitty noticed the collar. Yami looks like he's feeling naked without it, but oh well, he'll live. I guess I should just be glad there wasn't a reason like Jounouchi's for why he wears it.
So, should I be nice and answer? Hmm, this once I guess. "Full moon is two days away. It's taxing on Weres to shift and shift back again this close. Kitty'll be fine in a little while, but for now I'll play interpreter... maybe, if you're lucky."
If looks could kill, I think Seto would have planted me just then. Of course, I missed the full effect on that since Yami was trying to implant his elbow into my ribcage.
"Hmph. Well, I know of at least two Weres who won't have that problem anymore." The way Seto's grinding that out sounds almost painful. He's still petting Jounouchi though; how cute. Looks like Kitty's eating it up too.
"What do you mean, Kaiba?"
"Four Weretigers tried to grab us," Treeboy answers Yami's question, "literally. Jounouchi snapped the first one in half and tore a few limbs off another. The second one attacked him from behind." Figures. That'd be the only way they could get the drop on - Holy shit, I didn't know Seto could snarl like that. That'd do a lot of big cats proud. "That is cowardice, and I will not tolerate it. Suffice it to say, I doubt I'll need to feed again tonight."
"Holy fuck" slip out of my mouth, right about the same time Yami's muttering "shit." Did I understand that correctly? He drained a Were? Killed it-type drained it? By the new laws, that's murder. I mean, Weres can do whatever the hell they want to each other, and no one really pays attention, but vamps is a whole other story. Then again, we are talking about Kaiba Seto, Japan's golden boy. If anyone can get away with murder, he can. Still, I remember hearing once about how much power is in Were blood. Damn, Treeboy's going to be riding high for a while.
And hell, now that Treeboy's got me all keyed up, I can't help but notice all the energy humming around us. How many spirits - no, ghosts - are in this place? As angry as their humming sound seems to be, I'd be willing to bet most of them died here. They feel awfully focused too; not a good thing, since it usually means they're angry and not particularly willing to see reason. We don't have any guests in this room yet, but I bet it won't be very long. Still, it's enough to make a guy paranoid, since I have to glance around to see where they're likely going to come from.
"You're sure you're okay?" Yami asks again. Why is he bothering to whisper? We're in the room with a vampire and a Were. He has to know they can hear us perfectly well. I mean, that's junior high-level preternatural biology stuff, if not younger. I guess it's the thought that counts anyway.
"A lot of people died here," I return, just as quietly. "Most of them were murdered."
"They're still here?" I nod slowly, and Yami's hand sneaks around mine, threading our fingers. "I'm not going to let them near you."
The hell?! What, is it Confuse Bakura Night and no one told me? "You have some kind of master plan you're not letting me in on there, Mister King of Games?"
He just does this enigmatic smile and replies, "Maybe, maybe not. You'll have to see."
He's saved from my possibly kicking his ass by the sound of a key turning in the lock. And of course all my knives are gone. Of course. Anything else might be... I don't know... fair? I really fucking hate Tokyo.
A dark head appears around the door. Whoever he is, there are a few things I notice right away: 1) he's obviously some kind of Were; 2) he has a scar on his left cheek, which is probably how he was turned; 3) that's the ugliest damn headband I've ever seen; and 4) Jounouchi-kitty really doesn't like him, if the hissing is any indication. Either that, or he's doing the cat version of protecting Treeboy's nonexistent virtue. Or maybe that's what Treeboy calls himself doing. Who knew eyes could go subartic?
"The Master wishes to extend his apologies for the trouble we may have caused you." He's hissing out his words. I wonder if this is one of the guys who tried to grab Jounouchi and Treeboy. That would explain the hostility.
Treeboy's about to say something, not sure what (but it is probably something very sarcastic) when another man enters the room, pushing past Headband Boy, and marches himself over to the bed Yami and I are still sitting on. If this creep lays a hand on me, I'm going to tear him a new one. I swear to God, I will.
I can feel every muscle in my body tighten, ready to at least attempt to do some serious damage, as the newest guy starts to speak. "The Master wants to see them now."
He reaches down and grabs Yami's arm, yanking him to his feet. To my surprise, Yami stumbles, letting a soft pained gasp escape him, and that when I finally notice the darker spot on the right upper leg of his jeans: blood, no doubt about it. He's been hurt this whole time and didn't say a word about it - hell, kept asking if I was okay? And this fuckhead is going to - Hell no.
It's like a floodgate opens. All the ghosts I'd felt before are suddenly here, still pissed off and looking for someone to take it out on. It's like a thousand buzzing voices in my head, all demanding what I want them to do, and all I have to do is point them in the right direction with a simple thought. A thought is all it takes to sic them on the stupid goon who dared to put a hand on Yami.
Is this the difference between just accepting my power and really using it? Or is it riding me? I can't tell. I'm not sure I'm in the driver's seat here. Fuckhead's little more than goo and splatter paint, and they're still not satisfied. We - they - we want more, more blood, more vengeance, more revenge. We'll teach them to touch what's ours, teach them to kill us, teach them not to fuck with us. We want to destroy, maim, kill. Who shall be next? Who? We need to consume, feed, destroy. We need more power. There. Far, far below us... calling to us... something old, dark, evil, powerful... Yes, power... calling to -
"Kura?" A voice. A face - and a familiar one at that. Strange hair, though. There is a feeling of enjoyed annoyance attached to this person but also something else? Ours? No, wait. Mine? Limping closer when no one else is moving, both hands touching the side of my face and drawing me in closer to speak close. "Wake up, Kura."
The floodgate closes the second he touches me, like a door slammed shut against the wind, and my mind is my own again. "...Yami?" I have to ask, just to be sure. And someone tell me I didn't just hear a few loud sighs of relief. And that was Kitty growling; he sounds pissed too.
"Yeah, it's me." If my head wasn't fucking spinning, I'd probably better appreciate the feeling of his hands on my face and in my hair; actually, it's still rather nice right now. It's helping me ground myself once more, reminding me that I'm just me and not all of them. "Are you all right? Are you... you again?"
"Mostly, I think. My head still feels a little muddled, but not as bad." Keeping my gazed focused on those red eyes helps.
I hear both words at the same time, and only one of them is from Yami. I push my focus past him a moment to stare at an older man as he hops gingerly over what could be either a spleen or maybe a liver but looks like just so much goon goo. Ugh, I'm about to gross myself out. Focus on the old guy. Better yet, focus on Yami; he's a lot easier on the eyes.
I still can't believe he managed to hide being hurt for so long. I'm sure he didn't fool Treeboy or Kitty, but I completely missed it. I guess when Fuckhead grabbed him, it opened the wound further or tore at it where the blood had been drying it to his jeans. Blood's bad that way, especially in large amounts. Before he puts any weight on it, we should try to do some kind of makeshift bandage.
And I'm going to continue ignoring the old guy for the moment and focus on Yami's leg. It's starting to bleed sluggishly, further darkening the cloth around it. "Stand still," I murmur. Well, I hope these weren't good sheets, as I rip a strip off and drop down to my knees in front of him. He does a half-shuffle step backwards, and I send him up a glare. "I mean it, Yami. Do not move."
If I'm not mistaken, I could swear he's blushing. Not much, mind you, just a little red at the cheekbones. It's almost adorable. "Kura, wh- what're you doing?" he asks as I start working the bandage around his leg. Hey, I'm kind of proud of the fact I made him stutter. That takes talent.
"You're not leaving this room bleeding," I say softly, glancing past him at the others briefly. They seem to having the supernatural equivalent of the stare-down before the big gunfight in those old American Westerns. They'll keep long enough for us to finish up here. "I trust Kitty, and Treeboy's yet to put the bite on you so he's fine. It's everyone else that might want a..." I debate a moment between words, "taste."
And he's back to being the smirking bastard we all know and... yeah. "Trussing me up like the sacrificial lamb?"
I hope he doesn't honestly think that, that I would sell him out to the monsters. Though, given my performance a few minutes ago, maybe I should sort myself into that group as well. Still... "I should smack you for that," I grumble. I tie one last knot in the dressing a little too tight and stand. And hey, I'm suddenly the center of attention again. I didn't kill anyone else, did I?
"If you're done, um, conjuring the local ghosts," the old guy cuts in, drawing all the attention onto himself, "the Master would like to speak with you." Hmm, if he's trying to regain his dignity after the "eww" thing, he has a long way to go. And I'm not going to be the one to tell him he has some kind of goo on his back. Ugh, I'm not even going to figure out what that used to be. "Just please don't kill anyone else."
I think I hate him already. I mean, he's familiar in that 'I've seen him somewhere, at some time, with someone, probably last time I was in Tokyo' way, but I'm drawing a blank beyond that really - and I've decided I hate him enough to make his life hell. "I'll try, but if I do kill anyone, "it's so damn hard to hold back the smirk so why bother, "you'll be the first to know." I grab Yami's hand (just in case he needs help walking - really!) and step past the old fart before giving out my last comment, "I think you have some brains on your back."
The sound of someone losing their lunch is music to my ears. Oh, it's so tempting to go for broke and see if I can make one of the monsters wet themselves, but I'll resist for now. A hand smacks my arm, and Yami hisses, "You're horrible."
"Absolutely," I return, watching Treeboy go all chivalrous and pick Kitty up. How sweet. Note the sarcasm, please. Know Seto, though, who knows what he's telling himself is the reason he just did that.
At least I seem to have put the fear of Bakura in Headband Boy. He looks properly cowed. "Um, well, I'll just take you on in to see him now." Kitty hisses at him, and I'm going to be good - mainly because Yami hits hard - and not say 'boo' to see if he'll jump or, better still, screech like a scalded cat.
"Lead the way," I reply. I'll be so glad to have the answers we're looking for so we can go home. I want to sleep for a week, minimum. Whatever it was I did with the ghosts, it was plenty exhausting; I feel like I've run a marathon or two. Still, no time like the present.
Headband Boy gives me a small nod and heads out of the room. No way I'm giving the old man my back, so Yami and I go next, leaving Treeboy and Jounouchi to come behind us, with the others trailing behind them. Yami's limping but not too badly; he probably shouldn't even be walking, but no way in hell am I going to leave him back there alone, no more than I think Treeboy would have left Kitty back there. Thankfully, it's a relatively short walk till we're standing before a set of doors. Kitty and Seto - and the nonhuman assholes we're with - seem like they're listening to something that I can't pick up on from the other side.
The right-hand door opens, and a smallish (not as short as Yami but shorter than Kitty or me) guy hurries out, pushing a... shopping cart with another guy in it, this one without an arm and a leg, though I can't say he lost them as they're in the cart with him; he's still bleeding and breathing, so he's got to be a Were. Kitty growls at him. either he's feeling territorial or this is another of the guys who jumped them. Geez, how many did they take?! Therefore, I don't even attempt to not be a smart ass. "Defective Weres, aisle three," I deadpan, just loud enough for even Yami and the old guy to hear. It earns me a light smack on the arm, not hard enough to even begin to hurt, and a chuckle from Yami.
The old guy slips around us and hold the door open, now putting on the English butler act. "The Master of Tokyo will see you now."
One more, just for the record. Let it not be said I don't antagonize with the best of them. "Thanks a lot, Alfred. And... you missed a spot." Insta-green. I love it.
However, I only get a few feet in the room before I get the shock of my short life to date and slam on breaks mid-step. Of course, that misbalances Yami and I have grab and catch him to keep him upright, not to mention Treeboy's too busy playing Romeo (Or would be Juliet? I'll have to ask about that later if we make it out of this alive.) to notice me stopping, and he bumps into my back.
"Welcome back to Tokyo." Oh hell no. No way. Not him. Anyone but him. "How have you been, Bakura-boy?"
I really, really fucking hate Tokyo.
25 April 2005
Mwahahaha!! Who was expecting him to be the Master of Tokyo? And I'm sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter out. It's been one thing after another, I'm afraid to say.
Only two chapters to go and lots to happen! Please stick around.