Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction / D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Kyu wa murasaki des. (Today is purple) ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Kio wa murasaki des. (Today is purple)

Author: Sweetdeily.

Description: The local biker gang leader is caught by the cops and sent to a different country to go to school, what could ever make him stay? Written for Salima because she got the answer to my cruel quiz.

Genre: AU Yu-Gi-Oh, High Schooler cliché.

Pairing: Yami/Yugi

Warnings:NC-17. Yaoi. Lemon. Swearing. Lots of swearing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or DNAngel references and I make no money out of this. This is a work of fiction and is not associated with the official products, there is no charge for reading this and similarly, no one loses money for it existing.

~~~

It was plastered all over the news in big, bold letters; the leader of the Dark's had been caught while defacing public property, the police were confident that the rest of the gang would eventually crumble and the city of Neweana would be safe once more from the teenaged menaces. It was a report of pure joyous victory for most of the citizens.

If one more goddamn politician came to his trial to see his face, he was going to scream. Similarly, if he heard the words 'rebel teen!' a few more times he was going to rush the guards and try to get himself shot.

What did he think of his predicament? It was nothing to him, he could be charged as an adult and given a fine, maybe a few years in jail, but it wasn't like he couldn't just bust out in a few days. That actually was what he was hoping for.

They'd questioned him almost constantly about the whereabouts of the hideout, promised a shorter term, threatened to have people hurt him. He didn't give a damn.

Did he realize that the gang wouldn't go on without him? Of course it would, it was a proper gang, and he'd seen to it, one of the others would have the sense to take over.

The courtroom was flooded in reporters - you could probably have stepped on a journalist's foot; they crowded so close to the barriers. There was never any true silence, hadn't been since he'd gone through the imposing push and shove on the very first day of his trial. The judge couldn't even be bothered trying to make them all silent, everyone at home wanted to know every single breath that took place inside the courtroom and these reporters were determined to comment on it. After all, the Dark had done some very nasty vandalism.

He'd never said a word during the whole preceding, he was just waiting; his lawyer, someone who he could tell obviously had something against him, maybe it was the fact that if he had of pleaded innocent the guy could have tried to play the media, had done all the talking. Everyone knew that anyone defending the Dark's leader wouldn't try very hard. They'd pissed off everyone and every thing in the whole town, if it were possible.

The jury was asked to rise and go to consider their verdict. He couldn't help but shift in his seat, and he knew every camera was instantly on that one movement, psychologists would be reading into it immediately, was he nervous? Not really, he knew he'd be thumbed into the slammer and then fined.

There was no doubt in his mind about his punishment, but… looking back on that day, he figured he shouldn't have underestimated that judge the way he did.

~~~

The plane came to a smooth landing, the wheels grated along the landing strip like nails down a chalkboard, his stomach made a try to get up his throat and his black painted nails dug into the arms of his chair. They lurched forward a few kilometers before they finally came to a halt. For a plane, it had been a smooth flight and landing, but for those mere mortals trapped inside it had been a harsh eight hours of pure terror as the plane soared across nothingness and wriggled once in a while to dip to the left or right without any decent reason as far as they were concerned. Or that might have only applied to those who didn't travel well.

The seat-belt sign turned off. A minute behind the sign the hostess announced it was off and they could remove their seatbelts. He stayed plastered to his seat until the woman came around to check on them.

"Having trouble, honey?"

"Just get the fuckin' thing off me." He murmured.

She'd been assigned by the judge to keep an eye on him so she just ignored the crude command. "Welcome to Murasaki, as you may have heard during the flight over this city is named after-"

He needed a cigarette. He ignored her babble as she deftly un-strapped him. As soon as his connection to the plane was shattered he shot up, gave her a rude push away from himself and stalked out of the plane, his silver spike collar glinting in the sunlight.

He hadn't brought any valuables with him, it wasn't like he hadn't wanted to, it was just he couldn't get them. They hadn't let him for one, and he would have had to go to his hideout for that for another.

The lounge was full of people and he glanced around, looking for the exit sign, a police man stood under the sign, grinned when he saw the punk teen give an annoyed glare in his direction and tipped his hat.

He cast his dark eyes around, looking for another way out, but the elevator had a policeman next to it too. There was no option now; he'd have to find the freakin' foster father. He glanced to the waiting chairs, most of the occupants had vacated them and gone to greet their loved ones, but there were a few people still sitting down, obviously waiting for the next arrivals.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, I hope you're not the spazz I'm meant to be taking care of. No fuckin' shit, you stand out like a sore tooth. Fuckin' right too, those fuckin' idiots and their humour." A gruff voice grunted from behind him.

He frowned and turned, fists curling in challenge. What he saw caught his surprise; the man couldn't have been older than himself, with dark purple hair and wearing black. Leather kind of black at that. A vest and a pair of pants. He had an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips and a tattoo of a sparrow on his upper arm. His eyes were warm and friendly, despite his language.

"You're not so camouflaged yourself, fucker."

"Shut up you little shit, Yami, right?"

"What the fuck's it too you?"

"That the best you got kid? They say you don't have a last name."

"That's right. What the fuck's yours?"

"Dark."

"No fuck."

"Yeah. Now shut up and follow me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm older, I have cash and cigarettes, a cool car, and I said so."

Yami shrugged. Those were three good reasons.

The man turned and led them over to the cop guarding the elevators.

"No fuck Sam, ain't this a piece of work, all fuckin' dressed up." Dark said, jutting his thumb at the sullen youth who followed.

"Yessir, Dark-sama." The man bobbed his head and ushered them through.

Just for the sake if it Yami sent the airport terminal the bird and contented himself with glaring at Dark's back. Sama was a very respective suffix in Japanese, which told the biker two things, the first, this guy was no pushover, the second this guy was Japanese, well, he reasoned, not full blood, the man stalking ahead of him could have passed for any Caucasian race.

"So what the fuck do you want to buy first?" Asked Dark's rough voice.

"A 8mm Sig so I can blow someone's fuckin' brains out, what do you think, fucker?"

"The name's Dark, little shit. No can do by the way, too fuckin' big for your hands, you want something smaller."

"Piss off old man."

"Make me, kid."

Yami stopped walking; they were almost through the airport doors. "Look, I don't care what the fuck you think you are, I don't think you fully understand what kind of person I am, so I'm gonna' give you a lil leeway, you go out that door and don't bother to get in my fuckin' way and I'll make sure the boys lay off when they get here." He reasoned. He liked how this guy talked, no shit taken, so he was willing to cut a deal, but never let it be seen in front of his gang.

Dark stepped onto the little welcome mat, turned and grinned around the cig in his jaw. "Aw, your time in custody must have made you soft; they all said you was a hard piece of shit to crack. Now listen up kid, I'm the only thing you got going for you right now, you see the cops in plainclothes running around? You make any bad moves and those fuckers are on you like a bad piece of cupcake. You come all nice and friendly like, and we go shopping, have a real fuckin' bonding kinda day, you get tones of shit to occupy your little head with and I get a fuckin' excuse to get out of the fuckin' office. Then we go from the next day on. That's the easy way, Yami, the hard way is more painful for you 'cause it involves chains, and not the fuckin' beauty chains you'd get a hit out of."

Yami crossed his arms over his chest, he was wearing a five day old ripped shirt, his leathers had seen better days and his hair was dropping from lack of gel, his mascara had spread to big circles under his eyes and his nail-polish was chipped to put it delicately, his lipstick had died a few days ago and he hadn't had a good fuck in two weeks. He was tired, a little nervous and pissed off because he'd underestimated the sentence he'd gotten. "You think you can handle me for a day, f- Dark? You're fuckin' kidding your fuckin' self."

"No, I think I can handle a piece of work like you for a fucking year."

"I bet you just."

"Shut up and come gawk at the shinny black car."

Yami shut up and followed the elder outside.

The usual blur of white taxi lines had been interrupted by a single black blemish. A stretch limo.

Yami gawked.

~ To Be Continued…fuc- naw, just kidding.

Sweets: Wow, I had SO much fun writing that chapter! I hope you like it so far, Salima! Next chapter the bass-455 goes to school! Reviews minna-san? Bwt, I couldn't help putting Dark in there, I think I might use this universe for a Dark/Daisuke story later on. Ohh, it'd be good.