Boketto
Boketto: the act of gazing vacantly into the distance without thinking.
Red pooled across the warehouse floor. Slowly expanding from a sea into rivers and streams. Settled in the center of the sea where two people. One covered in cuts of various sizes, all made to cause pain but not death. The other was covered in rivets of blood. It stained their cloths brown red as it dried.
The first figure took in a shuddering gasp. Trying with all their might to cling to life. But it was not to be. With emotionless eyes the second figure stepped out of the bloody sea and over to a nearby table.
There was everything imaginable on the table. A literal treasure trove of torture devices. Knives in every shape and size littered the table, well shattered glass, nails, hammers, and a corkscrew laid innocently among the bringers of death.
“You can’t escape,” the second figure stated in a bored tone as he ran his hand over a set of scalpels.
A laugh tried to make its way out of the first figure, but half way through blood bubbled up and the figure started choking. Coughs echoed throughout the warehouse as the first figure started drowning in their own blood.
Gold glinted as the second figure finally stepped away from the table of torture devices. Settled on a chair not far from the table was an unmistakable artifact of the ancient world. Long and slender, with two wing like protrusions on the end and a golden eye emblazoned on the top, the Millennium Rod glittered in the poorly lit warehouse.
Silent steps brought the second figure to the Rod. Blood covered fingers stretched out and slowly – lovingly even – the blood covered man grasped one of the most powerful magical items in the world. Twisting the man sat down on the chair, Millennium Rod settled across his lap as he looked upon the first figure with distain. His lip curled.
“You may have her,” the man said to a seemingly empty warehouse.
But it wasn’t empty. Shadows detached themselves from the walls and drifted towards the choking figure. Dark purple cloaks whisked across the floor as the members of the Rare Hunters finally topped their vigil. As one they attacked.
One of the purple cloaked figures stayed behind. He stepped up to the bearer of the Millennium Rod and bowed. “What shall be done with the body?”
“Burn it.”
The cloaked figure bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”
The bearer of the Millennium Rod blinked once, twice, and emotion bloomed once again in Lavender eyes. Worry swirled through the lavender orbs as they took in the scene before them. The blood. The hybrid that had been stalking him. The Rare Hunters that would do anything to make sure their leader was safe.
Sighing Marik slipped his hand into the pocket of the jacket he had discarded near the beginning of the interrogation. The situation wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. Worst yet was the fact that he had been forced to call Ryou earlier that day and tell him he and Yugi would have to teach the first years without him.
Marik didn’t know how long he would be able to keep this from Yugi and Ryou. Their safety was his priority. If that meant keeping them in the dark, he would do it.
Finally Marik dialed the number he knew would set things into motion. “Seto. We have a situation.”
Paper rustled as the Pharaoh looked through another request for militarization of the vampire community. The royal council had been pushing the past seventy-five years for all vampires to be forced into military service for two hundred years before being discharged. The council had been against such actions or attempts since the year 32 A.D. when the laws put in place during the Millennium War had finally been disbanded.
However, two world wars in less than twenty years had spooked the council in ways not even the Pharaoh understood.
With a sigh the Pharaoh leaned back in his seat. He didn’t want to even look at the proposal considering there were so many other papers that where more important. Chatoyant eyes glanced over the mountains of paper that seemed to grow bigger every time he looked at them. Most of them where proposals, others requests, and a few of them where reports. None of them really held his interest though.
None except a file called “The Hikari Experiment” and the file Mahada had placed on his desk not even an hour before. Within it contained all the information his court had been able to gain on one Seto Kaiba.
His fingers itched to take hold of his cousin’s file. The Pharaoh wanted to know what had caused his cousin to grow up just as rigidly as Seth had millennia ago.
Huffing the Pharaoh turned once again to the proposal. He had another one hundred forty eight pages to go before he could throw the damn thing in the fireplace. It wouldn’t do any good if he had to argue with the council about why he refused the proposal and not have logical answers. The Pharaoh had learned over the eons that reading everything was one of the most important things he could do to keep the blood thirsty bastards that made up the council from winning one over him.
Just as his eyes settled on the first line the Pharaoh heard chuckles
Red eyes flicked upward. Extending his hearing the Pharaoh sought out the sound. It hadn’t been a member of his court. None of them sounded like that. No…it had sounded like his dead mate.
Chuckles sounded again before.
Don’t laugh! It was horrible Yami! Their fledglings how do they not know this?
That was Yugi’s voice.
Calm Aibou, a voice the Pharaoh hadn’t heard in eons stated. They are fledglings yes, but you must remember that most of them where born after Japan became anti-vampire. Besides–the amusement was back–their reaction was hilarious.
It was not hilarious! It was horrible! Yugi cried.
The Pharaoh was frozen in his seat. Yugi and his mate weren’t in the mansion. There was no way he should be hearing them. Especially not in his head. Unless…no, the Pharaoh discarded the thought. He’s mate was dead. Yet, as the conversation continued in the Pharaoh’s mind he could not deign that the second voice was that of his mate.
If you find it so amusing Yami, the Pharaoh sucked in a gasp at the name as Yugi growled, then you can be in control of the body next time we have to discuss vampire puberty.
The other voice–his dead mate, Yami–answered. Only if Bakura is in control of Ryou’s.
The conversation drifted away from the Pharaoh. Slowly becoming white noise in the back of his mind until the Pharaoh was once again alone in his head. He didn’t seem to notice though. No. His mind kept revolving around the portion of the conversation that had rudely jutted into his head. About hearing his mate’s voice for the first time in roughly five thousand years.
If you find it so amusing Yami, then you can be in control of the body next time we have to discuss vampire puberty…Only if Bakura is in control of Ryou’s…
Blinking the Pharaoh glanced down at the proposal before pushing it away. It suddenly wasn’t important. Instead the Pharaoh stood. He would scorer the mansion’s library for anything he could find on mating bonds. Anything that might explain what he had just heard.
The Pharaoh had seen his mate’s dead body. He had been there when the body had been mummified and entombed. However, there was no doubt in the Pharaoh’s mind that it had been his mate Yugi was talking to.
Yami…
A ghost of a smile curled around the Pharaoh’s lips. Perhaps there was a reason why he was still in the hunts thrall. Perhaps Yugi was the gods way of answering the Pharaoh’s prayers and bringing him back to his mate.