It was windy, and Atem hated the wind for a very good reason. HIs bangs. He absolutely hated them. They whipped about his head threatening to take out an eye. He was fairly certain he couldn’t pull off an eye patch…and he couldn’t do the whole Pegasus thing…not that he would want to…
Head bowed Atem walked into the wind. In hindsight it was probably the only reason he heard the commotion in the alley way that day. Voices carried on the wind, or so it was was said. He heard several voices, and he couldn’t make out the exact number, but he knew what a fight sounded like. Someone one was…He cocked his head. Instantly he thought of when he first woke up with Yuugi. Bullies, and beatings and that’s exactly what it sounded like to Atem. He had to help!
He ran as fast as he could down the alley only to find an obsticale in the form of an eight foot fence. He could climb that easily. He had practically lived in trees growing up, and he wouldn’t even be ashamed to say he still did on occasion. Atem’s plan was to never stop running. He would simply scale the fence and get over to help the ma-
Atem’s eyes went wide as his brain caught up with what he was seeing. Bakura. Of course. The gods must be bored this day. Still, Atem didn’t really have time dwell on the fact it was Bakura before the thief was being yanked back into the group. Atem scaled the fence quickly, waisting no time by flipping over the top and just letting go. He landed on his feet, hoping to surprise and distract all in one go.
It seemed to have worked. All movement stopped as this new player entered the fray. Atem quickly sized up the competiton and noted Bakura’s state. This wasn’t fair. Four people fighting one. Even if it WAS Bakura, and even if something in his head said maybe he deserved a beating. It was terrifying, because he wasn’t certain if that was him…or Malice.
It mattered little. A man lunged at him and he dodged easily. “I’m not here to stop you from beating him up!” He said as he slipped under someone’s arm. “I’m only here to make sure it’s a fair fight!”
That seemed to have an effect. Everyone stopped. Atem cleared his throat. “One on one. Pick the best fighter between you…If you beat him that way I won’t interfere.” Atem had to keep the smirk from his mouth. Whoever fought Bakura was a deadman, that much was for certain.
The thugs took him in. Atem, five foot six, and all four of them turned towards him. Now he couldn’t stop the smug smirk tugging at his lips.
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it, tiny?” Sterotypical thug one growled. Atem’s grin only grew wider as the sennen eye appeared on his brow.
“Then I would have to punish you for breaking the rules.” He said softly. That seemed to have the desired effect. “Now, pick the best fighter, and get on with it. I was on my way for ice cream and I don’t wish to be delayed more that necessary.” He crossed his arms, simply expecting to be obeyed.
“S-sure whatever you say.” The thug answered, pushing the biggest guy towards Bakura. Well it was certainly more TARGET. He had to check himself from rolling his eyes. MAYBE if they had picked the agile smaller one, they might have stood a chance. Atem, as promised, leaned against the wall and waited.
Atem was actually going to join in on this? Well, Bakura couldn’t pretend he wasn’t surprised, after-all, it ran in the family. Bakura’s nose would have crinkled, except he was still being shoved against the wall, and his entire face felt like a wet blaze of pain. Admittedly, Bakura would have probably done the same. Resigned, angered, Bakura braced himself for the inevitable impact.
There was no impact, only a game. There was a gutting, hollow feeling in him, like Atem had carved out a nasty place in Bakura’s spine.
“Fuck you,” Bakura spat, lifting his head away from the wall to stare at Atem. Blood was running down his face, and his hair was sticking against his skin, plastering and drying with the blood.
Released, Bakura pushed away from the wall, fingernails chipped. He barely glanced at fucker two, gaze set on Pharaoh Fuckface. Bakura’s weight shifted, a faint tilt to his hips, and then had his claws on the fence. Scrambling up, Bakura jumped down the other side, crouching on his landing to kill momentum. Bakura’s head turned, glancing back through the chainlinks at Atem for a split-second.
Time to leave Bakura’s enemies to distract each other.
“Your problem now,” he told Atem, giving a handsome, even pretty smirk. It was slightly distorted by the tacking blood on Bakura’s face, but it was still every bit as pretty as Ryou ever was. With a parting snort, Bakura raised out of his crouch and took off back down the other side of the alleyway.