Author's Note: All right, welcome to my Kiryu/Misty-mess and my first FF-post of this year. Ah, I'm not entirely sure what to think about this… because I'm a person, who usually likes to write stuff with solid canon-base, I suppose I don't feel confident enough to move away from that. Until now we haven't seen any Kiryu-Misty interaction so well, canon-base = 0%… ah I'm rambling and who reads Author's Notes anyway…
1. Spoiler for the whole series.
2. I will be using the Japanese names for people and cards alike (The new ones at least; I just can't get used to saying/writing Duel Runner instead of D-Wheel and the likes).
3. Sexual Reference? Well I'm just warning in case.
Summary: One Shot – She only saw him in the darkness of the night but the same darkness whispered to her, reassured her that Kiryu Kyosuke was just as real as she was. Kiryu/Misty
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's.
--- Obsession ---
Sometimes there were days, when Misty Lola felt that nothing would be more satisfying than just to let go of her iron control and leave the darkness to destroy everything. Often those days included an especially exhausting shooting, many fans and even more reporters.
And although most of times Misty was more than amused by the simplicity of the mortals living in Neo-Domino City, when she wasn't, she loathed them a thousand fold. In those times the aloof mask she had donned would show fine cracks, unnoticeable for the mortal eye but enough for her to consider sending out Ccarayhua to put an end to the City (not that she really could do that right now anyway, there weren't enough sacrifices gathered just yet).
Even before she had been in that accident, when she had been just Misty the model and not Misty the Dark Signer disguising as model, when her mask had protected just her privacy and not the darkness of her soul, she had often wished for everything to disappear. But unlike back then, now she certainly held the power to make that happen, even with her Earthbound God still dormant, but unleashing herself now would only destroy all plans made for the upcoming battle against the Signer.
That was what the rational part that occupied the greatest part of her mind told her. However more than often her pitch-black irrational would hiss back and call for destruction, even if it took all chance to take revenge for her brother's murder. Often enough she would simply ignore those dark thoughts, lock them deep down in her heart even though she wanted to keep them in her mind and live them out thoroughly.
She hated her state, her inability to stay true to her dark nature and mind, and loathed that she had to hide both from the rest of the world. She knew that there were others like her in Satellite and at times she envied them because she knew that they didn't have to act and could enjoy being the darkness they were, while slowly starting to gather sacrifices.
It was such a moment, one where she had been close to the breaking point, when she had been about not to care anymore about plans, just wanting to become the darkness she was and show it to everyone, he had appeared before her the first time as if sensing that she was about to break down.
The first time he had shown himself had seemed like a dream and a nightmare at once and the moment she saw him, Misty knew him to be a Dark One… like she was herself.
She had never questioned his sudden appearance. She knew now that he was an illusion, made from the darkness and from her own despair, to comfort her and make her hold out until the time came to be herself. She only saw him in the darkness of the night but the same darkness whispered to her, reassured her that Kiryu Kyosuke was just as real as she was.
It took her a while until she could read him, a bit at least, but once she could, she understood that his problem was almost the opposite of hers. She had to hide, to wait until the time was right, until either the Crimson Dragon's servant, the Black Rose, or the last of the Dark Ones, showed their selves.
He, on the other hand, could live his darkness in Satellite and, although he had to be careful, could gather the pieces needed for the summoning of his god. He also knew where to find his destined opponent, even kept an eye on him, waiting for him to truly awaken. But it was the waiting that drove him into fury; unlike her, who was (mostly) patient and apathetic, he was impatience and passion bound into men.
That turned their meetings through the darkness into odd situations for both of them. Neither of them had known what to make of the other at first and so they tried to hide their discomfort, he with taunts and she with aloofness. But somehow he always seemed to know how to find the holes in her defence and once he had pierced through her shields, she hissed back in rage, like a wounded animal, starting to seek the holes of HIS defence.
They continued their game, their battle wits and taunts, insult and seek to hurt the other, and she could feel heat building up inside her, wandering from her stomach up to her cheeks. And then when the tension between them was so thick that it hurt, he pulled her towards himself and claimed her mouth hungrily, almost possessive. In response she press herself against him, feeling dark pleasure in this almost brutal kiss and in finally being able to exist as her true dark self.
They then rejoiced together in both pleasure and pain; taking from each other and giving in return. He took a piece of her patience, shortening the time of waiting by being with her and in return she took his passion, something that she had lost even before rebirth in the strict structure of business.
In the aftermath they talked sometimes. When they were in a good mood they told each other stories of the past. She talked about the brother she had lost and he about the team he had founded. When they were in an even better mood they compared the deaths they imagined for their hated ones.
It wasn't love that they felt; love was something they had lost to the darkness of their souls. Instead they were obsessed with each other, wanting to posses the other and give nothing back, guarding every piece they gained in fierce jealousy.
It was the way of darkness and that made it all right. It was like a spell that only lasted through and with the dark and that ended with the sunrise, when he disappeared as quietly as he had come.
And those times when Misty was lying on her back, exhausted and satisfied from the night, feeling the rays of the sunrise burning against her skin, she would sigh and wish for the time to come where dream would be reality and they would finally meet.
This was written mostly the days before Christmas and it is kind of depressing that just before Christmas all I can come up with are dark fanfictions (perhaps I read far to much of them lately; and I don't suppose that reading the Darth Bane series is really any better).
Belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone, by the way!
Ah well, review anyone?