Warnings: Honda/YBakura-ish... very mild shounen-ai. Or just possible vague interest, I guess. Really really short, too.
Bakura couldn't help but furrow his brow as he stared up at the cherry trees; the cherryblossoms were in full bloom, the air lingering with a sweet scent. The sun was warm, the breeze cool, but neither of these were really registering for the former tombrobber.
A small nagging feeling was prodding at the back of his mind. And it was becoming annoying. Almost to the point that Bakura wanted to hit his head against a hard surface in order to clear the persistant thoughts.
... Why save a mortal?
He had only held the vessel Bakura needed. It would have been easy enough to simply pluck off the souless vessel, and allow the mortal to fall. Yet Bakura hadn't. It would have been easy to send the mortal to the shadow realm during his obvious intentions of defying his wishes. And he hadn't.
Perhaps a chord had been struck? Something within Bakura that hadn't been touched for years. Until that foolish mortal involved himself in Bakura's plans, ruining them, simply because it was the 'right thing to do'.
The former tombrobber smiled very slightly, it was barely visible. A teenage mortal, with decent morals, managed to get under his skin. Strange as it was, it was mildly intriguing.
Bakura's smile quickly melted into a stern expression, as he glanced over his shoulder, and silently cursed himself. Speak of the Devil.
The mortal raised an eyebrow, then seemed to give Bakura the once-over. "Or is it the evil one?" he asked, slowly.
Bakura frowned, very slightly; somehow the mortal knew which soul was present, while others couldn't. Another intriguing concept. The tombrobber then folded his arms, waiting. It was only a matter of time until the mortal decided to leave. But the newly arrived long wait became obvious as the mortal smiled slightly, almost defiantly.
Bakura smiled inwardly, once again intrigued by this Hiroto Honda.
Hmn... there we go. And that's it. Yikes, very short (hides) oi vey...