loyal mutt

A loser no doubt, but one who was hurting someone Atem cared for and that alone drew contempt at best. That Jou was unwilling to relent on it is no surprise to Atem and yet even so it twists ugly feeling in gut, unsettled as he sighed out uneasy frustration. What was he to do? Evidently nothing, a fact he cared little for.

“If that’s what you want.” It wasn’t a matter he could speak more on really, not when he thinks he had been loved. When he had no doubt lived an indulged life before his death, golden little prince spoilt for that was his birth right. A far cry was that from what he was being confronted with here.

Probably one of the hardest things to do was to ask for help. He always had trouble with it, no matter who it was. Whether it was something banal like asking for help studying or even just talking about his situation at home with others. No way, he didn’t want to worry anyone else with his problem. He didn’t want to be a burden. The sins of his father were his to care for until all debts were paid. Then he could rest easy and let the old man rot.

“It’s fine. Ya ain’t the first.” Hell, even he threw hands in self-defense. No one else could understand it. Many of his friends came from average and privileged homes with parents that at least acknowledged them. He was hardly a thought in either of his parents minds most of the time, until a call comes about another suspension from school or his poor grades.

What lit his eyes was not pity, rather an ugly sort of incandescence. Atem was undoubtedly a good person but there was a time not so long ago where he had killed and maimed people for less than what had been committed here, had cast souls asunder in penance for their sins. It begged the question of what he might do to a man like that, even as placid as he might now seem.

“I could make him stop.” Sharp frown, arms settling across chest ever mindful of cursed gold which hung above his heart. “If you’d like.” This no doubt being the testament to his progress, that he thought to ask permission rather than bluster in and merely reap unholy karma.

He knew that look well. That burning gaze, at a moment’s notice he could and very much would unleash his wrath upon any cur that dares to harm his friends. He always knew Atem had his back just as he had his. They were not just friends to Jou, but family. Them and Shizuka meant more to him than his own parents who neglected him and treated him like he was worthless.

“It’s fine.” Jounouchi sighed, putting a firm hand on Atem’s shoulder. “He’s a loser. Wallowin’ in his own self pity, he takes it out on me but I don’t take none of it from him. Bein’ better than him and leavin’ that dump in the dust is the best payback I can give” 

‘ onion ’ for an angsty starter

“Hey, Atem. What’s up?”

It was their usual time to hangout and catch up on things. But something was...different. Jou came fashionably late on his bike, as usually and had a little difficulty chaining it to the bike post. 

There was something, off about Jounouchi today. His smile seemed a little vacant. 

More obviously though, were the number of bandages on his face and fingers and the scuffs and scratches uncovered still. 

       Now, would it truly be Kaiba if he didn’t just stare at his hand indignantly? It was progress at least that he didn’t just smack it away, though old habits died hard and being a pain in the ass was one of those that was ingrained into the fabric of what composed him— ancient spirit or no. “That’s because he’s obscenely soft. I don’t know how he managed anything either.” That whole group of them accidentally stumbled upon whatever was in front of them and that was the best he could describe it.

       A huff followed. “Well, now that you’ve had your fill of fun, is there any other place you had in mind?” Something Kaiba couldn’t potentially lose at, preferably. Like shopping, or literally anything else. “Knowing you, I’m sure you could come up with something fairly easily.”

Same old Kaiba--and here he thought he finally got to see a rare moment of his real self. But Kaiba was as proud as ever, and obviously still a sore loser. Jou rolled his eyes and pocketed his hand. Whatever, at least he got this sweet victory and some bragging rights.

When was he going to remove that stick up his ass already? What a jerk.

       “Ha! You’re going to be put down, Jonouchi—!” Because if it was one thing Kaiba didn’t do, it was lose to this prick. The gloat carried with it a sincerity of enjoyment that often it lacked, a care-free edge that was near uncharacteristic of Seto Kaiba— the no-nonsense millionaire who’s fierce personality commanded (forced) the utmost respect. Words were sharp still, but the threat isn’t so real, isn’t such a kick in the teeth. Competitive without severity… who even knew that was possible. Yes, he changed for the better, and handling loss, one of his largest challenges no matter what about was a slow going into recovery.

       In fact it was quite amusing how Jonouchi moved about as though he were in the game itself, animated in his enthusiastic twitches and motions. No doubt it was the signs of a man having fun— quite the contrast to Kaiba who stood in place, trained on the target. He wasn’t one to outwardly express himself in the same fashion. Maybe one day, but not today.

       However luck was against him, scoffing at his loss as he placed the weapon down in its holster as the bold “LOSE” declared itself across his screen with arms folding after. “Look at that, you managed something. A monumental achievement for you.” Shockingly he takes it gracefully, but whether it had to do with the fact he was learning to be humble or that he didn’t quite care so much was up for debate. Perhaps it didn’t matter at all when so long as he presented himself humbly it was change all the same. “It only took you this long, didn’t it?” Of course, those digs were a part of the Kaiba package and he had to compensate for his loss somehow, right?

The enegetic bounciness coming from Kaiba was surprising that it actually took Jou a little aback. He made the mistake to glance at him to actually see what was going on, and he saw it for himself. No one was going to believe, but there was a genuine smile on Seto Kaiba’s face. Not the usual cocky smirk or sneer of judgement and elitism.

It was like Jounouchi was playing a video game with a peer from school. 

He quickly snapped back to what was on the screen when his character grunted, trying to fight off an insect alien that wanted to pincer his head off. Damn, he was being careless and down a few points. 

Time to show Kaiba why they called Katsuya Jounouchi the Godfather of Games. 

It was a miraculous comeback--Jou’s familiarity with the game gave him the upperhand. He knew which crates held the better guns and power-ups and took the killing blow before Kaiba could reload. Jou put down his gun, laughing and grinning like a damn fool. He actually won. He put his money where his mouth was and finally bested Kaiba in something that wasn’t Duel Monsters.

“Heh, good game Kaiba.” He offers a friendly hand to shake. He wasn’t going to get a big head over it. After all, the sharp-tongued billionaire was skilled in his own right and got some impressive kills. But that doesn’t mean he can’t bask in the glow of his victory, does it? Sure Kaiba still got a few digs at him, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun.

       The start-up music and dialogue have him smirking with cool eyes glanced over at his “opponent” as the countdown began. Free hand pushed back russet bangs away from eyes in a casual display of absolute confidence. “As have I. We’ll see what that comes to mean with you.” When was the last time he was able to relax like this without the fate of the world on his shoulders? Between school, his business, and running around chasing cursed artifacts, he’d forgotten why games were important to him in the first place. 

       Perhaps even before that, from the day he was first adopted, wins and losses had their meanings corrupted, anxiety twisting into the mix, that a loss no matter what meant failure as a person. There was a long road ahead of him away from that perspective, still angry when he loses the first round to Jonouchi of all people (why, exactly, did he hate him at all?) with a sharp tsk escaping him and gripping the gun visibly tighter. But it wasn’t the end of the world. Of course it wasn’t. This wasn’t a Shadow Game, this wasn’t the fate of his company, or his family, or himself. No eyes watching except those of the mildly curious and indifferent.

       Between scores, they settled on a draw, something Kaiba is reluctant to admit. He raises the gun and points it at Jonouchi’s head before making the “bang” sound and pulling back with a smirk. “Don’t get too comfortable. You have no idea what’s in store for you.” It’s more playful than a genuine taunt, revealing of the “true” personality that lies underneath layers and layers of walls that protected him. Slowly peeling away, light shimmering what had been forgotten. It’s not comfortable, but not unwelcome.

“Same to you, Kaiba.” He could feel his motors started running. His eyes fixated on the screen. This might’ve not been a Shadow Game, but it sure as hell was going to heat with two competitive guys like them playing. If Kaiba was cool and collected, Jounouchi was loud and abrasive. But his prior knowledge of the game won him the round with the most points. 

“Alright! Score one of Katsuya.” He grinned, twirling the toy gun around his hand with less finesse than Kaiba did. But things weren’t over just yet. He wasn’t the best gamer out there and he learned how to take loses with some pride. After all, losing was just a step to getting better. He always fell on flat on his face, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pick himself up and get better. 

“C’mon, Kaiba. Let’s see what ya got,” He grinned. He could feel his blood pumping as virtual guts and alien parts splattered on the screen. He couldn’t help but to make noises and move around restlessly, as if he was really in that alien jungle fighting off giant insectoids in a competition for his life.