Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Do What You Have To Do ❯ Chapter 7

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I wouldn't be babysitting.

AN: An upped rating to 'R' for this chapter only.

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-Chapter Seven-

Yami is pretty, I can admit that now.

One of the most important things to remember about my yami is that he is very pretty. It may not seem important, but trust me, when he's sweet-talking our way out of detentions and looking sweet and demure and innocent, this advantage comes in handy. How could anyone so lovely and angelic (give me pause to laugh hysterically for a moment) do anyone harm?

Don't answer that.

But this isn't school - thank kami for that. Because scarily enough, Yami becomes exceptionally pretty when he's about to kill people. I don't know how this works, but it does - he smiles like... ashes and midnight and his thoughts start to swirl like thick honey and strawberries and I get a little dizzy from the high - yeah, it sounds awful, but what else would you expect me to do? I can't stop him... it's too much in his nature to stop himself, and it makes no sense for me - he kills for my sake, for the most part. I can no more change that than the color of the sky - he's my soulmate, after all, I need him to live like this... even if it is a little on the weird side. If you want to talk about weird, talk about Malik. His yami is crazier than mine, and Malik isn't... exactly... entirely within the realm of sane either, you know?

Speaking of questionable sanity... I turn around and take a peek over the edge of my barricade. Yami, check. Four idiots stalking up to their doom, check. Ring of Death, Destruction, Chaos and Other Quick and Easy Things To Do For Fun and Profit shimmering all bright and shiny and starting to gleam suspiciously on my yami's chest. Hm... Yami. Soft lips (they are quite nice) curved in a sly smirk, long thick lashes drooping lazily, spiky bangs falling in a soft demonic halo around the smooth planes of his face. Yep, right now he's teetering on the edge of smolderingly pretty.

Were this a bodice-ripper, I'd be in a fancy dress and cowering behind him. This, fortunately, is not a bodice-ripper, for if someone ripped my bodice, they'd be rather disappointed to find that said bodice was empty. Unless you count my Ring, which is worth more than what you would find otherwise... hey! Wait a second! Pretty Yami keeps sticking his tongue down my throat and I keep liking it... Does this mean I'm gay? Oh, Ra, as if I weren't teased enough about having girly hair...!

Wait. That one gym coach... he told me to cut off my hair, and Yami sealed him into a Monster World doll. I've got nothing to worry about, my knight in shining... I'll stop there before I start laughing madly. Some dashing romantic hero my yami is not.

Plus he keeps chuckling under his breath as the police edge cautiously towards him. He plucks his half of our deck from his pocket and rifles through the cards, humming softly, seemingly heedless of the rather burly man advancing on his admittedly not-exceptionally-burly self with nightstick raised.

The idiot keeps advancing - and then the familiar shimmering scent of ebony magic starts tickling at my nose, and I slide back down the table and manage a false smile for the sake of my father, who seems to have fallen into some odd state of zombielike shock.

I feel as though I should be dispensing wisdom, but all I can do is try and reassure them... maybe... "Um... when you hear the screaming, don't look; when you hear loud growls, don't look; when you maniacal laughter... well, don't look; if the walls suddenly get splashed with blood, don't look - oh, and don't worry! We can get rid of the bodies!"

I pause and reach into my pocket, retrieving my half of the deck, flipping quickly through it, just in case. "Now I know it's in here... somewhere... damn, where is it?" I raise my voice just enough for him to hear. "Yami, do you have my Morphic Jar?"

The answer is a very loud crunch, a shriek of pain, and I'm not going to look even though a policeman's cap has just landed on Hazumi's lap. Sans policeman, fortunately.

//I don't know!// he cackles happily, and I think that crashing noise I hear must have been our last vase shattering against someone's head.

"Well if I can't find it, then it'll be because you misplaced it, so you'll have to get rid of the bodies on your own, do you hear me? I'm not lugging mangled corpses around again just because you lost our cards! Remember how long it took to dig those graves the last time?!"

Yami hums in reply and weaves a familiar spell -

Yelp.

Big flash of light.

Thunk.

One down. Monster World doll or card?

Deranged giggling wafts through the air, as well as a singsonged, "Hikari! I have a preeeeeeeeeesent for you!"

Cue the sweatdrop. Monster World dolls? Again? By now I have a whole bloody village of them!

Mrs. Miyaki's whimpering again. Oh, get over it, you silly tart. We don't know for sure that anybody's dead yet.

Warm magic shimmers through the air, and while another shriek of pain joins the cackle of my yami's laughter, a familiar roar reaches my ears.

Oh no.

He didn't. "Man-Eater Bug! WAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

...yep, he did.

I look around. Miyakis - one big shivering huddle of bug-eyed freaks. Dad - er... Zombie-Dad. Right. Moving on. Small fire. Policeman's soulless body. When did that land in the kitchen? Anyway. Um... what used to be the dinner service, a napkin bearing suspicious stains, another pile of debris, and, behind me, the table.

Table, meet Bakura's head. Hello, table. This is Bakura's head speaking. And this is Bakura speaking to Bakura's yami. Behold what the poor suffering Bakura has to say.

"Yami." *BASH* "You." *BASH* "Stupid." *BASH* "Stupid." *BASH* "Idiot!" *BASHBASHBASH*

...is it just me, or is that the sound of massive jaws tearing open frail little mortal bodies?

Soft wonder flickers along the edges of the delighted glee in my head, and yami, who feels like he's in the middle of tapdancing on someone's head, yells, "Oi, hikari! Heeheehee - you know what? You know what?"

Le sigh.

"What is it, Yami?" And OW. This table is bloody HARD.

"This one - heeHEEheehee - he's got an extra rib! Wanna see?"

"NO!" /Nonononononono!/

Screech.

Crack.

Thunk.

"SEE?!"

I stare down at the small fragment of pearly bone that is currently dripping newly-spilled blood all over my jeans.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKK!"

Icky icky icky icky icky icky ICKY!!!! RUN AWAY! RUN AWAAAAAAAAAAY! "YAMIIIII! MAKE IT STOP!!!"

When I peek through my lashes again, big brown eyes blink innocently back at me. There's a soft, blood-drenched hand on my shoulder, and an equally soft, very strange look on my yami's pretty face.

...wait, where'd he come from?

I glance down, utterly bewildered. ...and why am I standing on top of a whimpering policeman?

//Hikari - how the HELL did you clear the table in one jump?//

Jaw drop. Gee, lookie at Yami's pretty neck - perfect.

Grab.

THROTTLE.

"You... you... YOU STUPID MAN YOU THREW A PIECE OF PERSON AT ME!!!"

"Meep!"

/Yami I swear if you EVER do that AGAIN I'll drop the Ring in a vat of hardening cement and DROP the bloody thing in the OCEAN!/

For someone being strangled, he looks remarkably calm. //No you won't.//

/I WILL TOO!/

He's... smirking. //Will not.//

/WILL TOO!/

//Will not.//

"WILL TOO!"

He opens his mouth, but why isn't he talking?

Wheeze. His eyes are a little bit wider than usual, I wonder what's wrong?

Amazement ripples in my mind. /Eh? Yami? What's wrong?/

//Hikari, little one, my big-eyed yadonushi... YOU'RE STILL TRYING TO STRANGLE ME TO DEATH!//

Oh.

Blush.

I lift my hands away from his neck, giggling sheepishly. "Um... oops?"

Yami's rubbing his neck and giving me the Glare of Death, copyright Yami no Yugi. Eheeheehee... Yami... Yami, you're getting that psychotic look in your eyes again... Yami? Yami, are you listening to me?

"Hikari?"

"Un?"

"Duck."

Okay.

CRUNCH.

And that, gentle... um, whomever-you-ares, is the sound of my yami breaking the nose of cop number three.

...joy.

Let's see... one soulless body passed out in the kitchen. One unfortunate fellow missing a rib, and one more that just fell over because of aforesaid punch delivered by aforesaid yami. One, two, three.

Weren't there four of them?

Uh oh... "Yami?"

He's bouncing on his heels with his Man-Eater Bug happily bouncing at his side, surveying the wreckage that was formerly known as the dining room.

"Weren't there four of them?"

He freezes mid-bounce and mentally starts ticking off the numbers.

Those pretty pretty eyes widen in astonishment as comes up one short.

"Oops."

Double le sigh. Why me?

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AN: *yawn* Yeah. Whatever.

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