@cyberends :|| I am more than this body; I am more than these bones
A bitter anger coursed through Kalin’s veins, and a small smile was forming on his lips. I’ll show you, I’ll show you-- it repeated like a mantra in his head, until, until he glanced over his shoulder. Smoke rose up from the scorched circuit, there was some scattered glass and the horrifying realization of what he had done hit him, causing the turbo duelist to slow to a halt in front of the crowd and only look upon the wreckage in absolute horror.
He had won. He had showed them.
Kalin got off, helmet resting on his runner, his chest tightening up and his eyes wide. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not by any means.Look at him, his anger getting the best of him. Why did turbo duels have to stir his emotions like this, why couldn’t it be like a standing duel, where he could remain still and emotionless and not crack?
Slowly, he turned around to face the crowd, their whispered comments finally reaching his sensitive ears. Kalin took a fearful step back, not only at the harshness of their words, but their glares, their beating pulses. Shaky hands rose to his head, nails digging into the sides of his head and Kalin crumpled to his knees. Shut up, shut up! SHUT UP!
‘I thought he wasn’t a Dark Signer anymore?’
‘This is Hell Kaiser all over again...’
‘How could someone cause so much damage, yet look so pathetic?’
“KALIN!” Yusei’s voice ripped through the voices as he made his way over, pushing through the swarming bodies to Kalin. He helped his teammate up, trying to use his smaller frame to protect his friend, pushing the media aside and barking at them to get the hell out of their way.
“Jack, get his runner to the pits!” It would be one of few orders Jack wouldn’t be able to argue against; their goal was to get Kalin out, get him out safely.
Sure, Yusei knew how to get out of the grasp of the media, but Kalin was so shaken he couldn’t think clearly, rationally, calmly. The mistake was made when a reporter got too close, microphone pressing into the side of Kalin’s face, into his criminal marker. Something else in him snapped-- the fucking disrespect---!!
Kalin only meant to grab the microphone, to take it and snap it and spit into the face of the media, but he grabbed the reporter’s hand too-- when the microphone cracked, so did the bones. The crowd hushed, some taking a fearful step back. Kalin took a step back too, tears stinging his eyes. The crowd started to part, but not for the duelists trying to make their way off the circuit.
God, god, god...! Shut up, shut up!
