Chapter One of Digging a Hole only to Throw Yourself In

Characters: Shark, Yuma, OC-Slasher

Warnings: Slight violence, character development, things like that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! ZeXal or its characters, but I do own this fanfic.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three."

"But I don't know what you're—"

"One."

"I really don't know!"

"Two."

"Please!"

"Three."

When my fist connected in the kid's gut and sent him doubling over and gasping, I felt a thrill of fear, but also of satisfaction. I kicked the kid hard in the chest and threw him backwards. I bent and picked up the other boy's scattered deck, pocketing it.

"I'll be taking this." I spat delicately to the side. "When you've decided to get over yourself and tell me the truth, you know where to come." I turned around and walked off.

Without looking back.

x.

I was halfway home when I heard footsteps behind me. A voice shouted my name harshly.

I stopped and turned.

Dual-colored hair, sequined jeans under a multicolored tank top and light vest, a golden pendant gleaming at his breast, and a fiery passion in his amber eyes—I could have recognized Yuma Tsukumo from a mile away.

"What do you want?"

"That kid back in that alleyway a few hours ago," he said angrily, "that was you, wasn't it?"

His deck had felt heavier in my pocket with every step until I had handed it over to Slasher. I thought I had left gang life behind me a couple years ago. Apparently not.

"So what if it was?" I demanded. "We're looking for information on a gang calling themselves E17. That kid was a spy that's been scouting out our hideout for the past week. Slash sent me after him. I only did my job."

"Why are you back in gangs, Shark?" Yuma's voice softened, his eyes glittering with worry, reflecting the stars above. "You said you left that behind you."

I couldn't bear to look at the hurt on his face as I turned my back on him. "What I do is none of your business, Yuma. Just let me do what I want."

"No. They're just using you, can't you see that?"

"Leave me alone." I started walking again.

"Shark—if you ever need to talk—I'm here."

I stopped.

"You have my cell number. I'll always pick up. I'll always talk. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'll just listen. I'll help you in any way possible."

"Thanks for the help hotline," I snapped, "but I don't need your advice or your help."

I broke into a run for my house.

x.

I threw a punch at my wall. All that happened was pain flaring in my hand.

Swearing, I danced around for a minute, clutching my hand, before I stopped and shook it out. I looked at the bruises already forming across my knuckles.

flashback

I dropped the deck on the main table. "Done and done. The kid's been taken care of."

"Good job, Shark," Slasher said. "Didn't think you had it in you."

I could hear the rest of the gang shifting and muttering. I caught snatches of their conversations. Most thought I still didn't have it in me. They were wrong.

"What more do I have to do to prove myself to you?" I asked. "I've taken down the kid, I've stolen his deck, I've stolen the layout blueprints for E17's warehouse. I've done twelve of the ten things you've asked of me"

Slasher rubbed his jaw. "That's true, but I still don't know if we can trust you."

Anger rose like fire in my chest. I opened my mouth to speak.

His palm cracked across my cheek in a harsh slap that rocked me back on my heels, jerking my head to one side. I tenderly raised my fingers up, closing my eyes until the pain faded.

"You don't speak until you're spoken to," Slasher said. "That's one of the first things I taught you."

"Pardon me," I murmured.

"Don't linger on it. That was for your own good. Pain is weakness leaving the body. And God knows you've got a lot of it."

Harsh, mocking laughter rang like bells in my ears until I thought I would explode. I curled my nails into my palms to stop my hands from trembling. I took a steadying breath and resisted the urge to say 'thank you'.

end flashback

The sting and the redness had long since faded from my cheek, but I could still hear the laughter, and I could still see the bitter amusement on Slasher's face. He was a bully, just like everyone else in Pride and Pain. He wanted to make me angry. He wanted to make me cry. But I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

At least…not the face-to-face satisfaction.

I collapsed on my bed, curled up around my water-design pillow with the lightning storm, and started crying.

I was furious. I was so angry at Slasher for hitting me and embarrassing me in front of the rest of the gang. I was angry at myself for losing control right now. I was angry at Yuma for intervening. I was mad at anything and everything I could think of to be mad at and about.

I sat up and punched my pillow hard. More frustrated tears spilled down my cheeks and onto the blankets. I threw the nearest book across the room. It hit the bookshelf nailed to the wall. A figurine fell to the floor with a clatter.

I stopped.

Sniffling, I stood up and picked my way over to where it lay, abandoned, on the ground. I knelt and scooped it tenderly into my hands. It was a handcrafted figure of a Great White Shark, painted delicately, jaws parted fiercely, an arcing tidal wave behind it. The glittering black eyes held a challenge—and a question.

Slasher is merely another challenge, like a duel. Will you face him? Or are you going to let him win this easily?

To be honest, I thought I might.

But I didn't give up during the World Championships five years ago. Shark Ryoga Kastle does not give up.

I stood up and very gently replaced my shark on the wooden shelf. Sharks don't stumble upon good fortune. They work, stalking their prey with endless patience. Then, when they're close enough to see the whites of their eyes, they strike hard and fast, getting what they came for before slipping away like shadows.

No, I didn't know if I was going to be able to take on Slasher and the rest of Pride and Pain.

But it was like Yuma always said. If life is a game they say I can't win, I'll never amount to nothing. Gotta keep going and not let other people break your fire. High-five the sky to get where you're going.

I picked up my fallen book and sat it gently on my bedside table. I brushed the tears away from my face, took a deep breath, and actually smiled. Strange that I was referring to something Yuma had said for my rock to lean on.

I think he was growing on me.