Yuugioh does not belong to me.
I was in a joukai oneshot mood. And so I sat at my cousin's house and thought about it for about a minute, and came up with this. Ta-da! Unfortunately this fic got so long it ceased to be a oneshot. There's no angst in this joukai! GASP. AND NO ONE DIES! Now that is an accomplishment for me. There are a lot of Japanese honorifics though. Why? I don't know. Sorry if it takes away from the story, but I just wanted to put them in. Below is a little guide so all are not confused. Oh, and the characters, especially Seto, might be OOC. I think I may have made Seto just a bit insane.
Honorific Notes (taken from Ballantine Books; skip if you know it all):
-san: this is the most common honorific, and is equivalent to Mr., Miss, Ms., etc. It is the all-purpose honorific and can be used in any situation where politeness is required.
-sama: This is one level higher than '-san.' It is used to confer great respect.
-dono: This is an even higher level than '-sama,' and confers utmost respect.
-kun: This suffix is used at the end of boys' names to express familiarity or endearment. It is also sometimes used by men among friends, or when addressing someone younger or of a lower station.
-chan: This is used to express endearment, mostly towards girls. It is also used for little boys, pets and even among lovers. It gives a sense of childish cuteness.
Bozu: This is an informal way to refer to a boy, similar to the English term 'kid' or 'squirt.'
-nii: (not from Ballantine Books) brother
(blank): The lack of honorific means that the speaker has permission to address the person in a very intimate way. Usually, only family, spouses, or very close friends have this kind of permission. Known as yokisute, it can be gratifying when someone who has earned the intimacy starts to call one by one's name without an honorific. But when that intimacy hasn't been earned, it can also be very insulting.
I don't know if I spelled konnichiwa right, sorry about that. Correct me if I'm wrong.
"Da-ad! Why now?" Katsuya had been in the middle of putting on his coat when his father had called him over in an overly sweet voice, which gave away the fact he wanted a favor from Katsuya. And of course his father asks him when he's about to leave.
His father blinks back at him blankly in response to Katsuya's whine. "Katsuya. I'm merely asking you to ask Sanouke-dono from downstairs for some sugar." Katsuya rolls his eyes as he turns his back on his father, annoyed about how his father just doesn't get it. Damn him.
"Fine, fine. Whatever." He finishes pulling on the second-hand blue coat. He would wear his newer, warmer,—mmmm, warmth—one, but Seto seems to like this one . . . He pulls on his boots, and wonders if he should call Seto to warn him that he's going to be late. Nah. Seto will just have to deal with him being late. God knows he's used to it anyway.
As he's closing the door shut behind him, Katsuya throws his father's back a look. You know the one, where you pull down the skin under your eye with one finger and stick out your tongue at the same time to imply that you want to bite their nose off. If you don't know the look, you do now, which is just as well. It's Katsuya's favorite one.
"Old fuckface," he murmurs under his breath as he begins walking down the stairs. "If he wants sugar so badly, he should go get it himself." The apartment building is unusually silent for midday, and Katsuya's boots sound deafening as he approaches Apt. 22. He knocks loudly, but there's no sound of movements beyond the door. He knocks again, louder, and more impatiently. "Old bag."
Finally, after what feels like hours—but is actually closer to minutes—he hears footsteps on the other side of the door.
"Hello, Sanouke-dono." Katsuya isn't sure he should really show that much respect for the old woman . . . but it does seem appropriate. She's old enough to be flattered by garbage like this. Katsuya can't help but relay the words in a cold tone, though.
She gives him an odd look, and Katsuya is left feeling awkward. Perhaps he should have said that in a kinder manner. He shuffles his feet a little bit, waiting for her to speak. Isn't she going to say anything?
"Jounouchi Katsuya, is it? Your father is a good man. What happened to you?" She shoots him another look, but Katsuya is too occupied by trying to hold his tongue. It's a good thing he isn't as hasty to anger as most people think he is. If he were, he probably would have tackled the old woman to the ground just for that rude comment. In fact, if she starts on his case again, he actually might.
But really, this woman has known him for all of two seconds and already she's forming an opinion about his integrity? What god has it in for him?
"My father needs some sugar," he growls through clenched teeth. He's going to get what he needs and get out. Quick and easy.
"Sugar?" Sanouke says in a soft, thoughtful voice. "Yes, I believe I have some." She moves more fluidly than Katsuya would have thought possible for an old woman. But as she motions for him to follow her inside, he finds something else to occupy his mind with. The apartment smells quite differently from his own, like . . . candle wax and smoke. A long, thing tendril of smoke rises from two candles on the table in the middle of the room, and Katsuya assumes the smell is being emitted from that.
He nearly trips as he follows Sanouke-san through the sporadically placed furniture. He curses his lanky frame and long limbs when he nearly knocks over a tall, clear vase filled to the brims with small black beads. He pauses to further inspect the vase, as he places it further away from the edge of the table.
The beads seem to have intricate white designs etched onto them, and Katsuya reaches out to the vase once again with a curious hand. Unfortunately, before his fingers can come close to the beads, a sandal hits his hand with a dull thud, and he yelps in surprise and pain.
"Shit!" At least he has the decency to look embarrassed at his outburst when he turns to look at the old woman standing in the nearby doorway. In one hand she holds a bag—full of what Katsuya hopes is sugar—and in the other she holds the sandal to match the one that attacked him. He grins sheepishly at her, and takes a couple of cautious steps away from the vase. "Heh, heh. Sorry."
Her stony expression doesn't change. "Do not touch anything, Bozu." She sighs and lets the sandal in her hand fall the ground. It makes a loud thud as it hits, and I half expect to hear angry broom banging back from the apartment below hers, but nothing happens. "I remember the days when children recognized symbols of power and knew enough to be wary around them." Before Katsuya can open his mouth to question her about her words, she takes a few steps towards him and pushes the bag into his hands.
"Leave now, Jounouchi-san." She pushes him gently, but steadily, towards the door. Katsuya even thinks, for a second, that she chuckles. He's out the door before he can comment or thank her, or do anything at all. As she closes the door shut with a click following it, he mutter to himself, "I bet Seto-chan never has to put up with this!"
That selfsame Kaiba Seto is coming out of another hectic meeting, his mind whirling still from the ideas that had sprouted up during this conference. The next months is going to be hell if things go as planned. If they don't . . . they will. Seto refuses to accept anything less than that.
He walks back up to the fifth floor, where his office is found. As he steps past his secretary, he catches the familiar whiff of nail polish wafting from her desk. Does she ever do any work?
"Kaiba-dono," she calls out in a faux chirpy voice. He should tell her that he would rather if she talked like an actual human being. She cuts him off before he can even open his mouth, though. "Shouldn't you be, you know, at home?" He turns to look at her with a raised eyebrow, which is the closest to a confused expression as she's ever going to see him get. She's saying this too pointedly. What is she trying to imply?
She seems to stifle a sigh. Irritating woman, Seto thinks with a mental frown. "You told me not expect you today, because you were having dinner with Jounouchi-san and your little brother," she explains, leaning over to open a drawer on her desk.
His eyes widen, and he rushes back from where he'd come in. His trench coat makes a loud snap, like a whip, as he leaves without a word. The secretary would be insulted if she wasn't completely accustomed to having Kaiba Seto show no gratitude. She takes out her nail from under the folder she'd slipped it under as soon as he'd come in.
Kaiba isn't quite as smart as he thinks he is, she thinks to herself with a chuckle.
In fact, at that very moment Seto is wondering the same thing. He's been running a company for years, but he can't remember that's he's having dinner that night? He climbs into his car, and steps on the glass, nearly running over an employee in the process. Oh well, she had a suspicious look to her, anyway. She's probably selling him out, and deserves to get run over. Seto fleetingly wonders if he should go back and aim this time.
Driving more like a maniac than usual, he hopes Mokuba isn't worried. His little brother likes to ignore the fact that his onii-sama has raises him practically his whole life, and the worrying is usually the other way around. Wheels squeal against the concrete as he takes a sharp turn.
Well, it's not Mokuba's fault he's a huge kidnapping magnet. But now that Seto's thinking about it . . . Mokuba seems to be looking forward to it lately, as he carries several items on his person at all time, as if to be prepared for the inevitable. Maybe he hopes he'll get a beautiful woman kidnapping him. Damn puberty, and those stupid movies where the beautiful kidnapper falls in love with the abducted.
As he reaches his house, and slams the door open, he wonders nonchalantly if Katsuya has worn that jacket he likes . . .
Instead of finding Katsuya and Mokuba sitting on the couch, playing video games, he encounters an empty living room. Shit.
Mokuba! Katsuya! Fucking kidnappers. There should be a law against this.
Kaiba mentally blinks. There is.
"Mokuba? Katsuya-chan?" he calls out tentatively. He doesn't expect an answer, really—
"Nii-sama? Finally!" Mokuba pads down the stairs, his filthy socks muffling the sounds of his feet against the wood.
"You're not . . . kidnapped?" Seto is confused for a second. Katsuya doesn't seem to be coming out, though. "Katsuya-kun's been kidnapped!"
Mokuba just stares blankly at his brother—who looks slightly crazed and more than a bit concerned. Eventually, Seto realizes Mokuba hasn't answered and he frowns. "Did she seduce you?"
"What!" Mokuba leans towards his onii-sama in surprise. "Who!"
"The kidnapper!" Seto cries in exasperation and grips Mokuba's shoulders tightly. "Does she want the company or just money?"
Mokuba opens his mouth retort angrily, when both siblings pause at the sound of a door slamming behind them. "Sorry I'm late," Katsuya calmly says as he closes the door behind him, and begins to strip off his jacket—which Seto can't help but notice is the one he likes.
Seto lets go of Mokuba and rushes over to Katsuya. Mokuba's left glaring angrily at Seto's back, and rubbing his aching shoulders as Seto reach out to . . .well, he doesn't know what he wants to do, so he pulls his hands back.
"You're not kidnapped by some gorgeous, possibly scantly-clad, woman that seduced Mokuba into silence?" Seto asks, and he's still awfully confused.
Katsuya looks past Seto at Mokuba, but Mokuba only shrugs his shoulders in response. Katsuya looks back at Seto, who looks concerned. It would be sweet if it weren't so odd.
"Seto-kun, you watch too many movies." Katsuya grins teasingly, and ruffles Seto's hair gently. Seto growls, and stomps off into the kitchen, muttering something to the effect of, "There should be a law." God, Seto hates Katsuya sometimes. His life just seems to utterly carefree. He's free of routine and the clock doesn't hold a perpetual whip, ready to snap it at him if he's late. He has it easy, no need to worry about kidnapping and company bankruptcy.
All Katsuya has to worry about is friendship overload. Damn it.
Since I have about 20 pages of this written (so far. i'm not done, with the story yet), I will update rather frequently (once a week). Each chapter will be about five pages, like this one.
YAY FOR UPDATES!
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