Authors Notes: I do not own Yugioh GX or any of the characters in this fic (except Kenji).
Syrus sighed. He was lost. For him, this wasn't an uncommon occurrence; he never had a very good sense of direction. But this just took the cake. He was lost in the vast corridors of the Obelisk Blue boys' dorm.
It had started when Professor Banner had asked him to take a note to Dr. Crowler. He had the feeling that somewhere deep inside Banner secretly hated him. This one task had proved that; Crowler was a monster.
But being the timid boy that he was, Syrus had been unable to refuse. So he had taken the note to Crowler. Thankfully, he had been pouring over a mountain of paperwork, and had taken the note without much conversation (or scolding). Just as he thought he was in the clear, Syrus was given another task: deliver a note to an Obelisk Blue student.
Syrus had never heard of the boy, and when he had tried to get some sort of clue where the student might be found, Crowler had shooed him away without another word.
So now he was lost. In a massive building, whose occupants all hated him simply because he wore red. He'd been wandering aimlessly for almost half an hour now, and he was beginning to panic. Syrus knew that eventually he would have to knock on one of the doors and ask for help. But he also was well aware that it was likely that he would be mocked or shunned by the student inside, and only slightly less likely that he would be physically harmed.
He couldn't wander around forever, though. So he worked up his courage and knocked on a random door. He bowed his head and held his hands behind his back, preparing for whatever would come. The door opened silently, due to the top of the line maintenance of the Obelisk Blue dorm.
"Hello?"
"Um…hi," Syrus squeaked, not looking up at the boy who had answered the door, "I'm Syrus a-and I'm here to deliver a message…but I don't know who this person is or where to find him so I was…wondering if you…could…" he trailed off, and began scuffing the toes of his shoes on the tile.
The Obelisk student remained silent. Syrus began to chew on his lower lip. His mind was already forming an escape plan, although he would probably be too terrified to even move, once the moment came to run.
"Syrus?" The sudden noise and the sound of his name shocked Syrus into biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Look at me," the Obelisk commanded firmly. The blue haired boy was too afraid not to. He lifted his eyes slowly to catch a glimpse of the occupant of the room whose door he had knocked on.
"Zane?!" he squealed, upon recognizing his brother. His large eyes grew even wider and he stared at the older boy. Blood from his split lip trickled down his chin, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Come in, Syrus." It wasn't so much an invitation as a command. And when Syrus didn't comply, Zane seized his arm and literally dragged him into the room. Being quite a bit shorter than his brother, Syrus didn't have much choice in the matter. But Zane was being gentle, and his grip on the younger boy's arm was firm, but not painful and certainly not bruising.
Syrus whimpered softly as his brother pulled him into the room. He was frightened; most encounters he had with Zane ended badly.
Despite all of the emotional abuse, Zane had never physically hurt him. That was one thing Syrus felt grateful for.
The two walked into the suite of a room and Zane immediately sat gracefully down on the couch. It seemed to Syrus that everything Zane did was graceful, while he could barely get across a room without tripping. Just one more way that he was inferior to his brother.
Syrus stood in the middle of the room, clutching the note tightly in his sweating hands. Zane looked at him and frowned.
"…come over here." Syrus stumbled over to the couch on completely numb legs. He collapsed onto the cushions, about two feet away from his brother. Zane held out a hand, palm up, as if expecting to receive something. Syrus stared at him blankly. The elder brother's eyes flickered to the damp piece of paper in the other's hand. Syrus blinked twice.
"The note, Syrus."
"…the note?" he replied, totally oblivious.
"Yes, the note." Syrus looked down at his hand and gasped.
"The note!" he yelped, and promptly handed it to Zane. "I'm sorry," he whimpered meekly as the older boy opened the note.
An eternity of tense moments passed as Zane's cold blue eyes scanned the crumpled, sweat-dampened paper. He then sighed and set the note down on the end table, next to a half-empty coffee mug. Zane picked the mug up, and took deep drink. He scowled, wrinkling his nose in disgust, and set the cup down.
Syrus stared at the carpet, completely still, his body wracked with tension. Occasionally, his eyes flickered up to his older brother. Zane made no move to chase him from the room, but he wasn't exactly inviting him to stay, either. Thus, Syrus was frozen in place, becoming increasingly sick to his stomach.
"You'd better deliver that, Syrus." The younger boy jumped at his name.
"D-deliver?"
"The note, Syrus." Zane sounded somewhat annoyed. Syrus winced at his brother's tone, shying away from him even more.
"Okay...but Zane, I don't know who this is or where to find him."
"That's why I'm going to come with you," Zane explained. He said each word slowly and clearly, as if trying to teach a very complex subject to a very stupid person. Syrus flushed, and hot tears began to gather in his eyes.
Zane left the couch and disappeared. Syrus heard water running, but didn't give it much thought. He sniffled and wiped his face with his sleeve, not noticing the reddish stain on the white part.
I"What have I gotten myself into? Zane'll probably hate me even more after this. Stupid screw-up. I can't even deliver a note. Why did it have to be his room?"/I
He began to sob quietly, shoving his arm to his mouth to stifle the noise.
When he looked up, his brother was standing in front of him, holding a royal blue washcloth in his left hand. Threads of water ran over Zane's knuckles and thin tendrils of steam rose from the cloth. Syrus' mind anticipated pain, and he cringed.
"Calm down, Syrus. You have blood smeared all over your face," he said, as if that explained all but the most profound mysteries of the world. Zane cupped Syrus' chin with his right hand, and gently cleaned the blood off of his younger brother.
"You shouldn't bite your lip like that. You'll end up having scars."
"I'm sorry."
"It's…forget it." Zane finished wiping the blood off, and tossed the washcloth into the hamper. He took the almost-forgotten note from the end table and put it in his pocket.
"Come on. This note could be something important."
To be continued...