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northwind_gale) wrote2009-08-10 11:10 pm
[FIC] Why yes its more Martyr!verse
Well, ![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
fortuneladyicey wrote more Martyr!verse fic, so I wrote another companionfic.
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!5D’s
Characters: Mostly Yuusei, some Kiryuu, Jack, Crow, Himuro, and Yanagi
Genre: Friendship/Angst
Rating: T
Warnings: It’s Martyr-verse, dollfaces. What do you expect?
Summary: A collection of AU drabbles. He had given up everything, so he set off to make the most of nothing. But he couldn’t help but look back sometimes…Companionfic to Icey's fic.
Disclaimer: I write fanfiction. Fanfiction is written by those who lack the money or authority to make their canon the true canon. Hence, it can be concluded that since I write fanfiction, I don’t own 5D’s.
Currently Untitled
Yuusei always remembered.
Those days…when everyone was still together. When he and his nakama were side by side, united…when they would fight for their unified goal.
He missed those times terribly. Because back then…it just felt right, somehow. To have everyone together, held by their strong bonds.
Those bonds had been weakened, he saw, but they would never break. He was sure of it.
So whenever he remembered about the past…he wondered about the present, and the future as well. Whether Jack and Crow had managed to calm Kiryuu yet. Whether Kiryuu had perhaps, learned from them. Whether Jack and Crow had managed to tell him what he was too weak to say…
“We are nakama. We’d never leave you, Kiryuu. We’ll support you. You don’t need to go this far for us.”
Those words…they haunted him every day. Those words that should have been spoken, but died on his lips. They continued to echo…all the time. They never stopped. And it nearly drove him mad.
But there was one doubt that never left his mind. (It couldn’t leave his mind. It couldn’t. Because if it did, he’d lose his mind completely…)
He knew, no matter what, that his nakama would stay together. He was sure of it.
-----
Yuusei didn’t fully realize what the consequences of his actions would be until he had been confronted with a
simple question.
The inmate-a slightly eccentric old man named Yanagi, had started an innocent enough conversation with the others-what had they been thrown in for?
The inmates had at first rejected the idea, but when Yanagi started regaling the others with a tale of how he had been unjustly captured just for sneaking into Neo Domino and doing nothing else, for only wanting to see what it was like there, they got interested. They too, moaned about how unjust their arrests were, how they had been so unfairly treated like trash, how everything had been stacked up against them since the beginning.
And when Himuro-a burly inmate with a head of spiky green hair-turned to Yuusei, who had been silently lurking in the corner, watching the conversation with coldly sympathetic eyes, and asked him about his story, Yuusei almost found himself at a loss.
He knew that his brother had been targeted unjustly, and that had caused him to snap, to do something inexcusable. But he could hardly relieve the same sob story that the others bewailed, if he did…he would let himself be lost in self-pity, like the others.
So when he spoke, he spoke coldly, and without remorse. The same act he had put out in front of the judge, the jury, the Satellite officers. That act that fooled not only them…but himself…
“I launched an attack on Security, blowing out part of its building,” he said, coldly, ignoring the expressions of shock on the others’ faces. “I nearly killed an officer in order to keep my teammates safe.”
And as the story left his mouth, he realized what kind of reputation this would give him.
He promptly decided that he didn’t care. What they thought of him didn’t matter.
As long as everyone was safe, it would be fine.
-----
Yuusei wanted to forget.
He wanted to forget why he was here. He wanted to forget all the misery, the emotions, everything that led to this.
Because this way, he couldn’t hate those that led him to this…he didn’t want to hate him.
But if he forgot…if he forgot…then there would be no reason for his being here. He would lose hope, and become like all the rest of the inmates here, who had buckled under injustice’s hand. Then there would be no one left…no one. Because these people here, they had let themselves been reduced to something less than human, they had become lapdogs of some sort, toys for Security to play with and display. And he didn’t want that to happen to anyone…especially not to his nakama still outside the prison walls.
If he kept their attention on him, then the others would be fine…
So he continued to defy them softly, never letting the light leave his eyes, never letting his body collapse under punishment, never acknowledging his own sufferings-even when others asked him how he was, whether he would rest.
“No,” he would say. “It’s nothing. I’m fine…”
Because he would always be okay, if the others were alright…
-----
Yuusei didn’t realize that he had lost his voice until Yanagi pointed it out to him.
He was soft-spoken as it was, barely talking, but always with a solid firmness in his voice that inspired confidence in him despite his reputation.
When the old man (who had started getting quite attached to him after Yuusei had used his smuggled deck to beat Himuro) pointed it out to him, Yuusei was confused.
“I always talk quietly, old man.”
“Nah, sonny, there’s something not quite right with it,” Yanagi countered. “Sounds hoarser and deeper than it should be. C’mon, talk a bit louder so we can check.”
There was no getting around it. If he refused to talk louder, the old man would take it as a sign that he was ill. And he certainly wasn’t ill. So he made the effort.
When he tried, all he got was a sharp, cutting blast of air forced up from his lungs that tore at his throat and made him choke over the words that never came out. It stung bitterly, enough to make tears come from his eyes and fresh crimson blood from the depths of his weakened lungs. He felt like his body had betrayed him.
Yanagi insisted that Yuusei get himself some kind of help. Yuusei, indeed, did look winded from that short coughing fit. He glared at his shivering limbs.
“No,” he said. “You know they won’t give me the help I need. It’s not permitted. Especially to high-security prisoners like me. Going to them is just admitting that they’re getting to me.”
“But sonny…don’t you think your health is more important than your pride?”
“It’s not my pride I’m fighting for, old man.”
It was their safety. It always was.
-----
Yuusei had strange dreams.
They had started not long after that initial coughing fit. Yanagi was sure that his illness was being caused by those punishments Yuusei was always getting himself into, every time he had stood up for someone else.
“I’ve seen a lot in my years of traveling, sonny,” he had said. “I’m sure those punishments are destroying your heart and lungs! Keep this up and you won’t last another year!”
Another year, he had said. It had been almost three since that time. He was still here, and he would be here for as long as he could. He had defied his weakening body, his scarred heart and lungs and skin. Not even those strange hallucinations he had when he slept would stop him.
He had odd dreams of warped universes, of inverted, swirling colors, of odd, strange monsters.
However, there was one dream that kept reoccurring-that of Death coming to greet him. He was sure of it. Those dreams involved him being alone, in complete blackness, watching with limbs paralyzed as events flashed before him.
He saw Kiryuu a lot in those dreams.
Most of the time, it was dreams of a Kiryuu who had been reformed by his nakama, a Kiryuu who had regained trust in them…a Kiryuu who no longer needed to be haunted by the thought that his brothers would leave him. This Kiryuu would grasp him by the shoulders and swear that his brother’s sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain, that he would always, always, trust in his brothers, always…
Sometimes, however, it was different.
Kiryuu would grasp his shoulders as always, but it wasn’t a friendly, brotherly grip. This grip was tight and possessive, and his eyes spoke of vengeance, a desire for bloodlust that shook Yuusei to his very core.
“Don’t worry,” he would whisper close to Yuusei’s ear, in a chilling voice that sent goose bumps up and down his
skin and the hair on the back of his neck straight up. “I’ll get ‘em for ya. I’ll make them pay.”
And Yuusei would try and try to reason with this phantom Kiryuu, only to have his throat tighten when he wanted to say the crucial point, his body and mind still too weak to try and use this second chance to help his brother.
Above them would be a single, sinister eye, black and pupil-less, rimmed with a ghastly glowing blue, watching them interact, watching Yuusei’s futile attempts to reason with his brother with a sort of sardonic amusement.
Kiryuu would vanish, leaving Yuusei alone, and desperate, and there would be a booming, deep voice echoing around him, inside him, shaking his bones and making him fall to the ground in terror.
“You are furious at him, aren’t you?” the voice would ask, tauntingly. “For daring to not listen to you, to toss your sacrifice for him away so as to pursue his twisted ends with a so-called clear mind. For losing trust in you, for driving you to do this…you are angry at him. You hate him.”
“You will never, ever, get your point across to him with those fragile bonds you hold so close, not when he’s severed his end. Not when your end is too weak to even get it across. You must show him your anger, your hatred, if you want to tell him what you were too weak to say before. Your hatred is what will give you strength to do so.”
“Give into your hatred…”
And Yuusei would wake up, drenched in sweat and shaking too hard to even move his limbs. He would lie in his prison cot, staring up at the bunk above him with blank, unseeing eyes as those words haunted him.
That voice was wrong, he told himself. Kiryuu would be fine. Their bonds would hold strong. And he didn’t hate him. He couldn’t hate him…he didn’t want to hate him. Hating his brother was…impossible.
And yet, he was scared…scared that Kiryuu really had been left alone, scared that he really was the same way that Yuusei saw him in his dream…scared that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from hating Kiryuu if he really was that way.
It was times like these that he was glad that his voice had grown faint.
It made it that much easier to deny the fact that he was crying.
---FIN---
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I need to write about the reversed Signer verse sometime XD
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And yes, yes you should. I haven't seen you write fic, but I bet you can make a good one.
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I have written some here and there on my FF profile and this fic challenge I will never finish XD http://digitalstarry.livejournal.com/57057.html#cutid1
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Or you could always get a beta reader. Although waiting for the beta to correspond back is a bit of a downer on that.
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I suggest coming back to the fic after a few minutes. When you first see it, you think it's perfect, and you can't see anything wrong with it. A completion bias of sorts, you're ready to stop working. When you come back to it, though, and read it through one more time, you'll see lots of small things that you'll want to adjust. That's what happens to me when I post things on LJ after moving it from Word, and when I post things on FF.net from LJ.
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Thanks I'll keep that in mind ^^
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Glad I could help. ^^ Good luck with your writing!
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The last one was the most heartbreaking. And it sounded oddly familiar. >.>
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Well, I did write that scene with that conversation in mind~ no i totally wasn't inserting an inside joke in there, nope~
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