~~~

Chapter Six of Kio wa murasaki des. (Today is purple).

By Sweetdeily.
~~~

The weeks passed; as weeks occasionally do. Yami managed to piss off every teacher in Yugi’s classes in order of appearance- bar the P.E teacher. For some reason, Yami shut up and did as he was told in P.E.

It must have been the smell of the teacher. Or, even, the fact that during P.E Yugi wore shorts that were small and tight enough that even without bending over his ass and his groin were displayed tightly.

It was obviously a good smell, that.

Yugi was quickly established in Yami’s mind as a bookworm, and somewhat of an intelligent child, but sorely undernourished for his smarts. Yami didn’t get many of Yugi’s jokes; he could tell when the boy had cracked one, because he got a sad look on his face when he said something and no one laughed. So the ex-gang leader started to follow the things that interested Yugi. The kid had a borderline obsession with cartoons. His favourite was one called Dragon Ball Z, it had a lot of really muscle-y men in it, and Yami was sure that if you chopped their eyebrows off, they wouldn’t be able to ‘power-up’.

Then there was Yugi’s friends. They only came to school on certain days of the week in most cases.

For Malik and Seto it was a religious generated habit, they were both –highly- superstitious, so much that they believed it was bad luck to be at school on any week that had a Friday in it. Meaning that they were psychotically superstitious of coming to school at all. Yami avoided eating around them because once they had seen that he was eating a tuna sandwich they had begun to pray for his soul in the middle of the canteen. The teen found that fucking creepy. Not to mention the black face-paint and robes they wore over their school uniforms.

Satoshi Hikaru was a different kettle of tuna altogether. He was supposedly Japanese in origin, although he talked and walked and wore clothing like an American gangsta’ wannabe. Who knew how; but his pants seemed to never have gotten above his ankles, and his boxers were always on display if you had the fortune of sitting behind him. He talked with his hands. He couldn’t seem to even say his name without making some sort of weird American gangster sign. Behind their first meeting, Yami and Satoshi had glared at each other until outside sources had torn them away. It was sort of like having two alpha males in one pack. It –wouldn’t- work for very long. The days that Satoshi didn’t come to school for were mostly so he could tape his midday television shows or hang out at the ‘pad’ with his ‘homies’.

And then there was Daisuke. Yami wasn’t sure what was wrong with Daisuke; the boy seemed perfectly normal. He was good at art and fairly intelligent; he left everyone for dead on a sportsfield and had a healthy disposition toward life. Why he was hanging out with the psycho twins, the crazy gangsta and the nerd of the whole school sort of worried Yami. It wasn’t enough to keep him awake at night wondering what Daisuke’s damage was; but it was worrying all the same. The boy was pure Japanese all the way, he even spoke English with that funny accent they had. His hair was red, dyed obviously, but otherwise, he was a friendly enough person, he didn’t even seem to mind Yami’s swearing. Which was another notch on the worry stick.

Yami had somehow managed to slip himself into three Japanese classes, and was speed-learning the language the way some people breathed air. His mind was sharp and quick and painfully accurate. The teachers all hated him with a vehement passion, but the principal couldn’t do much about it. What was more was that Yami cut his classes whenever he felt like it and the test that he’d done for chemistry had still come back with one hundred percent on it.

Yugi proved to be the kind of kid who was constantly being bullied too, and Yami soon learnt that the pipsqueak didn’t enjoy being in debt for being rescued. His first triumph over the boy came on the Monday of his second week of school.

Yami was cutting English to enjoy a cigarette. He’d easily bought a packet with the lunch money that Dark kept giving him. obviously the man had no idea that it cost around five dollars to buy a sandwich, drink and snacks, because every day he was given a thirty dollar note to spend on a ‘modest’ lunch. Yami hadn’t the stupidity to tell Dark he was buying all sorts of weird and wonderfuls and shouting Yugi to something other than the packed lunches the boy usually brought. It was probably because Yami was a prodigy.

The teen was leaning against the back of the boy’s toilet when he heard the scuffle going on around the corner. At first he just took it for some bullies picking on some kid for their lunch money, until he picked up the words.

“You’re a fucking freak, you know that, you freak?” One boy was saying.

“Leave me alone!” Came the victim’s reply.

“Ohh, I bet he thinks his rich goth boyfriend is going to save him. Go on, yell for help you faggot!” Boy number two taunted.

There was more scuffling and a few groans of pain. Yami quietly drafted his cigarette. Drawing in the tar until the spark of the cancer stick was close enough to his fingers to burn; he flicked it to the ground and stubbed it out. Exhaling a cloud of smoke. Wonderful.

“Let go of me.” A small yell came from the victim.

“I think we should clear your head up, you fucking freak of a dwarf.” The boys were taunting again.

The toilet doors banged on their hinges. Yami sighed and pocketed his smokes. He didn’t play hero for just anyone. But there weren’t many other people in the school that fit such wonderful descriptions. There were advantages to being waist height- obviously these boys hadn’t thought of them.

The teen followed the sounds of fighting into the toilet and kicked the doors against their hinges. Hard.

“All fuckin’ right. What the fuck is going on in here? Can’t I fuckin’ smoke in fuckin’ peace without fuckin’ shit happening?” He growled into the room.

The two boys terrorizing the ruffled Yugi let go of the pipsqueak immediately to take on the somewhat taller Yami.

“You gonna’ save your fucking boyfriend, you fucking gaybo?”

“Gaybo? That’s fuckin’ original you fuckin’ shit for brains punk.” Yami snorted.

The two boys rushed him. Yami stepped into the larger of the two and rocked his punch for under the chin. Then, while the second one moved to grab him, Yami stepped around the bigger boy, kicking him into the smaller boy’s grasping arms. It was two moves, simple, easy and very effective. Yami had been in enough fights, on the receiving and the giving, to know how to easily outmaneuver someone taller than him.

They fell over in a heap; Yami pulled another cigarette out and lit it while he waited for them to re-orientate themselves.

“Now, you fuckin’ might have fuckin’ learnt somethin’ today. Don’t fuck with me or my fuckin’ friends, you fuckin’ twits.” He tossed the still-lit cigarette onto the top boy and grabbed Yugi from where the boy stood against the toilet store-door.

He dragged the dwarf past the bullies and back outside, behind the toilets where he’d been loitering originally. “C’mon Yugi, I think you should have given them a better fight.”

Yugi was glaring at him. “I don’t need you to look after me! That was –my- fight to win or lose regardless.”

Yami shrugged. “What’s it fuckin’ matter?”

Yugi pulled himself free of Yami’s grip. “It matters because now I don’t have a way to pay you back.”

Yami grinned. “I’ll take a fucking kiss, oh fucking boyfriend of mine.”

“Don’t fucking joke about that kind of shit. People don’t like it.” Yugi swore.

Yami grinned and lit another cigarette. He had a few spare packets already stashed away back at the mansion so his wasteful use of them wasn’t bothering him like it would have in the past where cash flow was directly proportioned to how much they could steal.

Yugi was glaring at him in a perturbed kind of way.

Yami sighed, pulled the cigarette from between his lips and crossed the gap between them, he bent the short way down to Yugi’s face and kissed him.

It wasn’t a big romantic, Hollywood mouth humping kiss. It wasn’t wet and sensual. It was awkward because Yami was half-bent over, cigarette tasting because he was exhaling into Yugi’s mouth and tricky because Yugi first moved forward and then backward in alarm. Yami caught Yugi’s neck and forced the boy to remain steady for a few seconds. There was no tongue down the throat, there was no saliva trickling down anyone’s lips. It was just a dry smack of mouth on mouth.

It still sent a little tingle up Yami’s spine.

Yugi squirmed his way out of the hold after a few seconds and coughed.

“What the hell was that?” The shrimp nearly screamed.

“Yami put the cigarette back in his mouth and shrugged. “You said you didn’t want to owe me anything.”

Yugi wiped his lips distastefully and stared at Yami for a few seconds before he turned and stormed off.

Yami sighed and took another long drag of his cigarette. Obviously he’d jumped the gun.

~~~

Or had he?

Yugi was a little distant for a few days, but after a while he seemed to have completely forgotten the whole incident. That or he was determined to pretend it hadn’t happened.

Yami knew that he’d given a blow to Yugi’s manhood and probably pre-decided sexuality. It wasn’t easy to get over that. He was surprised, above all, by Yugi’s reaction. Most guys tended to become flaming psychotic balls of homosexual bashing madness. Others went out and quickly got themselves a girlfriend and paraded her around like they were desperate to prove that they were still men.

Yugi pretended nothing was wrong.

Sure, it wasn’t unheard of, but that Friday while holding his sandwich out of reach of Malik and Seto’s psychotic reach so they couldn’t ‘purify’ it, it was just an extra thing on his mind.

“Get off! Daisuke, make them get the fuck off!” Yami growled, shoving a boot between himself and Seto.

“It has the unholy products in it! You can’t consume those contents unless someone has given your soul its last rites!” Malik was quoting.

“Just tell them that you already did it, Yami-kun.”

“GET OFF!”

“It won’t take a moment!”

“No! That’s not how you do it!”

“Stop it! Fucking let go of my fucking lunch!”

“Yami they’re just-”

“Where the hell is my notebook?” Satoshi intoned in his barely understandable gangster drawl.

“Under the- fuckin’ let go!”

“It has bad spirits attached to it!”

“It can fucking have demons breathing all fucking over it for all I fucking care- let me eat that- damnit!”

“Stop cursing, it only sends you to the black afterworld faster!”

“I’m somehow not seeing a problem.”

“Stop arguing you guys!”

“Where is my goddamn notebook? I have chemistry next!”

“Damnit it’s in the square thingy! Someone give me a hand here!” Yami growled, attempting to rescue his sandwich for psycho-twins hands.

Yugi rocked up in time to save Yami’s sandwich from its baptism and tossed it back to the angry goth, who stuck his tongue out at the two religious freaks and bit savagely into the item, through plastic and bread both. It didn’t worry him much; the sour looks that the boys gave him made the moment when he spat the plastic back out that much more satisfying.

Yugi was resting his forehead against the lunch table and Yami slipped over the smooth, well-graffiti-ed surface (thanks to his newly bought permanent marker) and sat down beside him comfortably.

“What’s up?”

“I keep getting in trouble from all my teachers.” Yugi moaned.

Yami unwrapped his sandwich and ate it. “Why the fuck?”

“You.”

“Ohhh.”

Yugi sighed and brought out a carrot stick, munching on it. “Don’t worry. It’ll blow over in a few weeks.”

~ To be continued…

Sweet notes: Well-

Yami: What the fuck was that?

Dark: yeah, no screen time for me!

Sweets: Hey this i-

Yami: And I want more booty! What are we paying you for?

Sweets: you’re no-

Dark: Yeah woman? What –are- we paying you for, just so you can write out your hambly blambly descriptions?

Sweets: Hamb-

Yami: Give me more booty!

Dark: Me too!

Sweets:…

Review before they take over and write it themselves?