#every single facet is scrutinised by not only those close to him

[lafeae]

Prompt: Burns

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!

Characters: Kaiba Seto, Jounouchi Katsuya

For: @badthingshappenbingo

Read: From Ch. 1 | Ch. 7 (This part)

The remnants of the charred apartment building were like long, twiggy fingers reaching for the sky.

Kaiba wasn’t surprised that it had burned to the ground. What was surprising was that half the neighbourhood hadn’t been taken with it. Every building in the place had to be built before the last world war and was held together, though only just, by greasy globs of oil and a lot of dedication to DIY work in the form of duck tape and over the top decorations to hide the holes.

Or maybe he was scrutinising the place to much. The poor district of Domino had character, to say the least. It had its own flair, much like its colourful residents. All of whom stared him down as they passed him by. It could have been the car they were staring at. Not everyday a sleek black limousine sat in the middle of their road. Though he was equal parts stranger.

Merely strange, he decided.

This wasn’t his world. These weren’t people who understood. They watched from balconies, blowing smoke and chattering gossip. He had stood for the better part of an hour, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, while staring at a burned down apartment complex. Jounouchi’s apartment complex.

It gave him the reason as to why Jounouchi hadn’t come to school for two days. Of course, he could have asked Yuugi and the rest of the nerd herd, but what good would that do him? Once he asked, they’d give him no peace of mind. Instead, he heard everything he needed to know in bits and pieces: Argument. Fire. Hospital.

Kaiba’s lips thinned. Rain drops pecked on his head. Time to go.

He slipped into the back of the car and stretched out his legs. Standing rigid in place, and mulling over the apartment and what everything meant, had made his calves sore. Beside him, Mokuba sat, thumbs pounding away at a handheld game. The boy quietly cursed under his breath before glancing up at Kaiba.

“You done?” Mokuba asked.

“Yes.”

“So are we going home now?”

Kaiba nodded, and Mokuba launched forward, ordering the driver to go. The car began to trundle out of the neighbourhood.

“What were you doing anyways?” Mokuba asked. The little blips from Mokuba’s game started up again.

“Research.”

“On what?”

“Jounouchi Katsuya.”

“Oh.” Mokuba’s nose curled. He cursed at the game again, prompting Kaiba to rest a hand on his shoulder. He apologised. “Like before?”

“In a way. Though there was no building to go into this time,” Kaiba said.

It went quiet as they drove across town. The temptation to tell the driver to go to Kame Game was there, but quickly squashed. If Jounouchi had been gone for this long, he was likely still in the hospital. Not once had Kaiba recalled Jounouchi missing class despite his deadbeat attitude towards it. Late? Constantly. But no fight or bruise had kept him from class no matter how badly it was smattered across his face.

He knew this was bad. How bad remained to be seen.

“I don’t get it,” Mokuba said once his character died. “Isn’t Jounouchi the one that broke your nose?”

Kaiba nodded. “He is.”

“So...why are you ‘researching’ him, or whatever. Shouldn’t you just leave it to a lawyer or something?”

“I could, but it’s complicated.”

Mokuba snorted. “Why do you care?”

Kaiba leaned against the window and considered the question, all the while drawing his hand to his face. A single finger pressed the tip of his nose, pangs of pain bursting through his cheeks. He saw the mess underneath. He was, no doubt, going to need plastic surgery. He’d already contacted the surgeon, he was just waiting for the school year to end.

This was Jounouchi fault. The pain and suffering. The missed days of class and work. The surgery. Why should he care was a very apt question.

The truth was, he both did and didn’t know. Jounouchi elicited a strange mix of bitter yet comfortable nostalgia combined with a touch of self-righteousness. He saw the way that Jounouchi was, how he kept his head down sometimes, and felt the draw of kinship. Understanding. With Jounouchi of all people...but then, he’d felt that draw since the beginning of their first year of high school. Things were even more complicated back then.

But that didn’t answer Mokuba’s question. Why did he care? It felt multi-faceted. Did Mokuba mean why did he care for Jounouchi’s well-being? Or why did he care for Jounouchi’s existence? Maybe it was why did he care for what Jounouchi did to him in a blind moment of anger? Or was it as simple as: did he just care for Jounouchi, period.

Kaiba sighed. “I don’t know.”

On Friday, Jounouchi still hadn’t returned to class. With a week left in the school year, the chances of him returning were slim. Unless he felt like dragging himself in for exams. Jounouchi never struck him as the type that was overly concerned about high school in general. There were bigger fish to fry, money to be made.

Kaiba could understand that. Deeply so.

That thought made his stomach clench as he stared at Jounouchi’s desk. He wasn’t hiding his glances anymore, either. He was too tired and out of it to hide his expression from his classmates. Though if any of them had paid attention in the three years since he’d started attending Domino High, they would have noticed his fixation.

It was unhealthy. It was unnatural. Anyone would have told him that he shouldn’t be looking at the bleach blond boy who couldn’t go a day without being late or getting a dress code infraction. But from day one, he’d been inexplicably drawn to Jounouchi.

After year one, he concluded it was the bruises.

The bruises painted stories on Jounouchi’s body. Not the ones that he was proud of after socking some thug in the gut. The ones that he poked and prodded until he flinched. Until they bled. Until they stopped hurting.

There was nothing attractive about bruises. Just familiar. Close. Almost warm, in a messed up kind of way. He always watched Jounouchi for those bruises and wanted to ask, but could never find an approach. Kaiba Seto didn’t approach a pleb like Jounouchi Katsuya and ask about bruises. It wasn’t etiquette. They were rivals. Well, Jounouchi thought they were rivals. He was the prick, the weirdo, the bastard. Jounouchi was the idiot, the asshole, the stupid mutt.

Terms of endearment.

Kaiba hated that he cared so damn much. It didn’t make any sense. Mokuba’s question continued to ring in his head. It kept him up at night while he prodded at his nose. Why, why, why? He was confident that having his nose broken by the idiot was grounds for not lusting after him anymore.

Then he thought about the noodles.

The almost sweet taste of the oily broth as it clung to his lips and danced on his tongue. It was kind of terrible, in a good way. It was the blood, sweat, and tears o an apology laced with a sickly bittersweet taste of not enough salt. It hit him right where it should have. Possibly where Jounouchi wanted it to, to make him accept the half-assed apology. That was fine.

Jounouchi’s continued absence wasn’t.

At the end of the school day, as everyone packed up to leave, Kaiba stood and approached Yuugi.

Yuugi smiled. “Oh, hey there, Kaiba-kun. You’re looking better.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s good,” Yuugi said. He shoved his books into his bag. “What’s up?”

“Where’s Jounouchi?”

There was a still from the group. The friendship girl looked to the ground, and Honda clenched his fists. Of course, none of them would answer. “He’s...he’s at my place. He just got out of the hospital last night.”

“I see.”

“Did you—?” Yuugi began. Kaiba nodded. “Right. I figured you did. Everyone’s sort of talking about it.”

This was getting nowhere fast.

“I need to speak with him,” Kaiba said. There was no point in beating around the bush. No matter how hard his heart pounded.

Honda sneered. “He’s been through enough. He doesn’t need to talk to you.”

“I don’t recall asking you.”

“Oh yeah? Well what’re you gonna do, make fun of him? He doesn’t need your shit right now, you—,”

“Honda-kun!” Yuugi shouted. Honda flinched and looked away. “It’s...it’s alright. I think he’s okay enough to talk. I mean, don’t you? It’s not like this is Kaiba-kun’s fault. Maybe this is something Jou-kun needs. He’s not talking to us, so...maybe this will be good for him. Aren’t you worried?” Yuugi asked.

Honda looked off. “Yeah. A’course I am.”

“And you’re worried too, right?” Yuugi asked, turning to Kaiba.

“I just need to speak with him.”

Though Yuugi said nothing, his face softened at the response. He nodded. “Then let’s go. Maybe we can all study too, if Jou-kun is feeling up to it.”

—

Kaiba offered them a ride to Kame Game, but said nothing the entire ride over. He steeled himself for what he was about to see. What damage was done to Jounouchi this time. It wouldn’t be a black eye, a busted lip, or cut knuckles. Wishful thinking, of course, that Jounouchi had come out unscathed. He hadn’t spent a week in the hospital if he was okay.

Sugoroku greeted them as they walked in. He cased Kaiba with a wary eye, but nodded as they headed upstairs.

The place was small. Even with an air conditioner humming it was humid. Sweat began to prickle on Kaiba’s back.

“That you, Yuug’?”

Slow, gentle footsteps padded from the kitchen. One foot dragging behind the other. A small but subtle pain.

When he looked up, Jounouchi hung at the threshold between the kitchen and the living room. What was left, anyways, after life had chewed him up and spit him out. Kaiba didn’t want to look, but he was frozen in place.

There wasn’t a patch of Jounouchi’s tanned skin that was untouched. Most of him was wound tight in gauze: his legs beneath his knees arms up to the sleeves of an oversized t-shirt, and his hands...his wide hands, his calloused hands, his warm hands, were rigidly covered to the fingertips in thick swathes of gauze. What wasn’t covered, like the skin of his thumbs, on his knees, or the bright red splotches on his cheeks masquerading as flush, were the gentlest of the burns.

“Kaib’? The hell ya doin’ here?” Jounouchi asked.

The closer Jounouchi dragged himself, the more Kaiba realised he had more than burns. Burns made sense. There had been nothing left of the apartment. But the yellow-green spots around Jounouchi’s eyes and jaw, and the cut on his cheek said it was more than a freak accident.

“You haven’t been to class.”

“No duh,” Jounouchi snorted. His arms widened, but fell just as fast. Jounouchi winced. “Can’t imagine why.”

Yuugi, Honda, and Anzu slipped through the kitchen and into the living room, with Yuugi mentioning that they’d be nearby if he needed anything. There was a humbleness about Jounouchi when he muttered thanks. Still holding his pride as intact as he could.

“Whaddya want, Kaiba?”

“To talk,” Kaiba said. He looked Jounouchi up and down again, continuing to catalogue his wounds. “You’re wearing he school gym shorts.”

Jounouchi’s face fell. “S’all that I got left. Shirt’s Honda’s.”

“You have yourself.”

“I guess,” Jounouchi agreed. He eased to the dining room table and sat, almost fell, into the chair. “Beats a blank.”

Kaiba sat across from Jounouchi. So submissive. More than just hanging his head quietly in homeroom. He couldn’t hide his eyes this time. His bangs were too singed. He heaved a sigh and leaned forward, moving his weight around so he didn’t use arms or hands. Besides his thumbs, a single pinky on his left hand was uncovered. It curled into his palm.

“Whaddya want?” Jounouchi repeated.

Kaiba opened his mouth and closed it. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t dead.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s true.”

“I figured it was. Jus’ when ya put it that way,” Jounouchi huffed and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Talk, Jounouchi,” Kaiba commanded.

“Why?” Jounouchi leaned back, slow and steady, but kept his chin against his chest. “There’s nothin’ t’ talk about. Nothing that would matter to you, at least. I...I don’t...I mean, unless ya wanna hear ‘bout what happened. But I don’t really wanna talk about it right now. I don’t remember it.”

“There’s always something to talk about.”

“That’s rich comin’ from you. I can’t even get ya t’ talk about the weather.”

Kaiba shrugged. “You didn’t ask the right questions.”

“I wasted my time.”

“Oh?”

Jounouchi looked towards the kitchen window. Their classmates were filtering by in waves, running after one another to get to downtown. There was a cram school four blocks away, if Kaiba recalled. But Jounouchi was half-heartedly smiling.

“Yeah. I mean, after everythin’ the most I got outta this was some stupid conversations and a fuckton of confusion, ya know? And to be honest, right now, I ain’t too worried about you or what ya want. What I did. Whatever it is that we’re doing right now, I mean—,” Jounouchi voice was tickled with laughter, “—what the fuck are we doing?”

“Talking.”

Jounouchi’s nose curled. “I meant since we started all this. Since you decided to put your nose where it don’t belong.”

“Compared to the rest of the dweebs, I’m the only one qualified to put my nose anywhere.”

“Lot of good it did ya,” Jounouchi said. He raised his hand and wiped the exposed pinky down the bridge of his nose. The laughter still lingered, and Jounouchi laughed wide and loud. “Look at us. We’re both so fucked up right now. We make a real odd couple, don’t we?”

Kaiba’s lips thinned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, you do. Weirdo.”

“Heh.”

Kaiba crossed his arms. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was because Jounouchi was so close to him, splayed across the table. His hands weren’t hands, but the pinky was there.

“You came to the house,” Jounouchi said. “Sorry ya had to deal with my old man. He didn’t say anythin’ too gross did he? Sometimes he doesn’t have a filter with strangers.”

“He was curious.”

“What’d he ask?”

“How did I get the address. How did I know you and how long had we known each other. Things of that nature.”

“What’d you say?” Jounouchi asked, his voice quivering.

It only hit Kaiba then that this may have been the cause of the not-accident. His stomach swirled violently and told him that, yes, this was his fault. If he hadn’t decided to go to Jounouchi’s home personally, this may not have happened. But he had to return the shirt and bowl. Jounouchi needed to know that he had accepted the apology, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to move on.

“Nothing. Your father doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who listens to reason. No matter what I said, he would have taken it any way he wanted to take it.”

Jounouchi’s lips parted. “So he didn’t ask you if we were...homo or whatever?”

“He may have.”

“Did he or didn’t he?” Jounouchi asked, his eyes burning bright. Before Kaiba could reply, he said, “Never mind. I don’t wanna know. Knowing ain’t gonna change what happened. I don’t wanna think about my Pa that way. Ya know he ain’t gonna make it?”

Kaiba stiffened.

It hadn’t occurred to him that the reason that Jounouchi was staying with Yuugi was because his father was dead or dying.

“It’s my fault.”

“I doubt it.”

“It is,” Jounouchi pressed. He raised his hands. “We got in a fight over...us. Me an’ you. Whatever. Before I knew it, the whole place was burnin’ and I’d knocked him out and then didn’t get him out fast enough. He’s a big guy, you saw him.”

The only thing Kaiba focused on were Jounouchi’s hands. Shaking. Thumbs and pinky curling tight. Kaiba looked past Jounouchi’s hands and to his face instead, to his stricken expression and his eyes brimming with tears he tried shaking away.

Jounouchi’s arms fell to the table.

“Keep talking Jounouchi.”

“What about?”

“Anything,” Kaiba said. “Preferably your father.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I wanna say about him. He’s gonna die, school year’s gonna end, and then I’m gonna go an’ live with my mom ‘til I’m okay enough to go and work in some factory. It’s gonna suck movin’ away from here. Her an’ Shizuka live out in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think anyone plays Magic and Wizards out there, so I’m gonna have to get a train pass an’ make sure I come visit everyone. Yuugi especially. If he ain’t too busy with college.

“You’re not taking entrance exams?”

“Hell no. No point.”

“Mm.”

“Are you?” Jounouchi asked.

Kaiba smirked and leaned his cheek against his fist. “No point. I have work to focus on.”

“Yeah. A’course,” Jounouchi said.

A silence fell between them, with Jounouchi occasionally looking up at Kaiba with brows furrowed. His expressions were terse but kind. And now he wasn’t holding onto his pride. It was falling apart piece-by-piece as he stifled back hiccups of tears and wiped his nose on his wrist.

Kaiba reached out and gently cupped his hand, barely touching the gauze. “Don’t.”

“Piss off.”

“You’ll get infected.”

“What do you care?” Jounouchi asked. “Why the hell did ya get involved at all? Why did you give me the salve an’...an’ wash my shirt?”

Jounouchi’s arm was lowered to the table, though it didn’t feel right to let go. He permeated heat like a stove. The pain must have been extraordinary, but Jounouchi held on. Always held on. Always held his head high, even as he fell apart.

“You’re not that stupid.”

“Spell it out for me.”

Kaiba’s eyes half-lidded. He reached out, his fingers dangerously close to the tips of Jounouchi’s. There was no point in being afraid of this, even if his heart was pounding rapid-fire in his chest.

Cicadas clicked through the window.

Kaiba looped his pinky finger around Jounouchi’s. The nail grazed along soft, tender skin on the inside. “You are not alone.”

“No?”

“No. Unlike your friends, I understand what it means to hide. To be ashamed. To be confused.”

The tiniest smile crossed Jounouchi’s face. The bruises, the burns, didn’t look as bad. They could get better. Time healed everything.

Jounouchi’s pinky squeezed back. “Thanks.”

There was no telling how long they sat looking at one another, sharing smiles and trying to talk but coming up short. Something tired and weak came over Jounouchi. Eventually, he slid further in his seat, but no matter how far he slipped, Kaiba didn’t let go of the hold on his pinky. Laughter burst from the living room.

“Ya wanna go study with Yuug’? They’re prolly waitin’ on us,” Jounouchi said. Kaiba groaned. “C’mon.”

“Fine.”