Homelife

A/N: I am pleasantly surprised that some people actually enjoyed, in a twisted way albeit, this little bit of writing I threw together late onght ght in under an hour. Whether there is much more to this story or not remains to be seen, I am uncertain as to where it leads me. This is a slow meandering chapter with a whole bunch of random introspection. Note that yes, my chapters are usually slow moving, mainly I do it so I can never be accused of rushing into things too fast. I personally can't stand a fic that moves too fast, not bothering to explain how a character figured out how to get from point a to point b. So I guess to overcompensate, I move slow.

My comments to individual reviewers is at the bottom.

Disclaimer: Not mine. I was originally going to write a huge disclaimer in french and see who actually bothered with the translating, but heck, I'm not taking french anymore, so the effort'd be wasted. Anyways, I'd say that half my readers are probably American and don't have to learn french, so why bother? All my greatest plans inevitably go wrong at some point, so no francais, je suis desole.

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HOMELIFE Pt. 2
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I stand attentively before the stove, one arm lightly tossing the pan so that the food doesn't stick. My other hand is busily stirring at the pot on the other burner, my latest creation, a hybrid seafood-oyster sauce that I was suddenly inspired to make. The stir fry pan has some different greens and such in it, just to get lightly cooked. The fish is almost done, also just barely scorched, enough to put out a pleasant aroma. Scent is as important to good food as sight, it has to look good and smell good or you won't want to eat it.

I smile as I go through the regular comfortable motions of the kitchen, probably my favourite space in the entire apartment. This is the only room I really feel is mine, not even my bedroom holds such sanctity. This is one place where I'm in charge and no interruptions are tolerated. I think Daddy obliges just because he likes good food as much as I do. One thing we have in common is our appetites, I come by my tendency to gorge naturally. We're both just bottomless pits, but at least I've only got two mouths to feed, any more and we'd be starving. Not that there haven't been a few nights, a week at most, like that. Thankfully it's not the norm. We may not have a working phone all the time, or our cable gets cut off, but we always have plenty to munch on, what more does one need?

My friends probably think I am starving, I've noticed their looks when they see me eat. There's also the depressing fact I can't seem to put on any weight. I wish I could just so they wouldn't think I was starving or that I have an eating disorder. When I go to Yuugi's to hang out for a while he always raids his fridge and brings back heaps of food, like I'm some kind of charity case. I know his heart's in the right place, but really, it makes me feel kind of pathetic at times. The more I protest that I have enough to eat at home the more they feel the need to feed me and take care of me. I guess it's touching they care so much, but I'm not one much to let people just take care of me. It's dumb and macho and gets in the way, but it's what guys do. WE're supposed to smile and joke and just be cool. Everything is supposed to be okay, and we have to take whatever comes our way in stride. Not that I envy the emotional turmoil touchy-feely world girls live in. Although once when Anzu was down she took me out and we shared ice cream together, which was pretty nice. Why does ice cream have the magical ability to make everything alright again?

"Almost ready, Katsuya?" his voice startles me because it's so close, I can feel his light breathing on the back of my neck. I almost lose my grip on the pan, but manage recover at the last minute before I spill anything beside a couple drops of juice and one piece of lightly cooked tuna. I can be pretty gracefully clumsy at times.

I turn my face slightly towards him and smile shakily, trying to bring my jangling nerves back under regular motor control. It's not working well, but I've been worse. It takes longer and longer at times like these to get myself back into a cool frame of mind. If it wasn't in the middle of dinner I'd just slink off to the shower for a while. I spent most of my morning there and find myself retreating to that refuge more and more often.

I stand for long times in the shower, just enjoying the sensations it provides, a suitable distraction when in need of one. My teeth always chatter and I feel every inch of my skin prickle when the icy spray sheets down over my body. I like tght ght the natural urge to huddle inwards and just allow the water to rush over every exposed piece of me. It feels horrible and wonderful and like my skin is being cut in a thousand little ways all over. It perfectly sums up my own desires and I'll just stand there dazed, taking in the hurt and hopefully dismissing some of the pain I keep inside. I take a lot of showers.

I personally think it's a fair trade, pain for pain. I was always better at taking a beating than having a good cry. Once I let emotions wade into the mix things get crazy and I start doing stupid stuff. Well, stupider than my usual stuff. Is stupider a word?

To keep it interesting I always turn the hot water on next. Rather than let the warmth inch up on my body and thaw me out, I just turn it on full blast right away. Never let it be said that Jounouchi Katsuya is into half-way measures, all or nothing, baby. I grin at the thought as I give my stir fry another light toss in the air, watching it with detached interest as the pieces fly and tumble only to land back down in the pan again.

That's how it is, isn't it. You can fly away, go nuts whatever, get away for a while. You're always going to come back down in the same mess you started off in. Getting away is a fantasy, an illusion. I gave up on such stupid childish crap a while ago. Perhaps that's the one thing Kaiba might actually understand about me. I gave up on fantasies and dumb illusions a long time ago; What you see is what you get, nothing more. Whatever he went through, he decided to go and become a cold hearted bastard. I guess I just don't see the point. If I can't feel anymore why go on? I have lots I care about, Yuugi, Honda, Anzu, my friends. Heck, I've got Mai and Mako and all the other duelists I've faced, my talents, my wins. I've got lots. Why would anyone choose to stop feeling, isn't that just another form of giving in? Heh, Kaiba'd kick my ass for thinking that. Not that he's ever going to know about any of this stuff. Not that anyone will.

"I think it'll be ready soon," I reply over my shoulder, turning my attention back to the stove and resuming the familiar motions with pleasure. It's comfortable to lose yourself in something you enjoy, the familiarity and calmness of it. Then again, the opposite can be true as well, I think that's why I play Duel Monsters so much. The game's never the same twice, and if it does get repetitive I can just give my deck an overhaul and bam, whole dient ent story. One of these day's I'll come up with the perfect deck and finally toast Kaiba. I can't help but chuckle, imagining the look on his face when he gets the beat down from the puppy.....I so did not refer to myself like that.

We all have things to keep us going, I guess for Kaiba it's probably the idea of recapturing his precious place at the top. What fun is a game, what challenge is it, when you never lose? Until Yuugi came along the end was a foregone conclusion, so what was the point in playing anyways if it's never really a gamble? Heh, then again, considering how many chance type cards are in my deck I guess I'm at the other end of the line. I think its more interesting to throw in random chance. There's also the strange wonder of how much lucky favours me, but do you see me complaining? I'm a gambler by nature, I like to take chances and rush ahead without thinking. It's not so much that I'm dumb and am just bulling my way forward, I like the unknown, the unseen challenge ahead. It's an exciting way to live. I haven't had so much excitement lately, just the regular humdrum day to day of being a teenager. Not that I miss freaky mind-controlling soul-stealing magic.

"There's a movie on late tonight, it's a classic."
My eyes light up for a moment and I smile in spite of myself. "Comedy or Sci-fi"

"I think the director was going for Sci-fi, but got lost somewhere 13 minutes in."

I laugh and wink over my shoulder at him, giving the pan another flip. It looks almost ready now, so I turn down the heat. "Do we have popcorn in the house, or do you want me to run to the store and get some?"

"Why not get some pop and chips too. Maybe some chocolate if you want." He grins and offers, digging out his wallet from his back pocket. He carefully opens it tipped in my diren, an, and once I see it I know why. His wallet is actually full! In my world this is a near impossibility, an occasion so rare it should be celebrated.

"B-But how??" I can't help but blurt out, not sure that he got this wonderful wad of cash through means entirely legal.

His eyes are twinkling and I know he knows what I'm thinking. "I was busy today, Katsuya-chan." he pulls out a twenty and tosses the wallet onto the table.

"Hey! Watch the plates." I admonish as a glass topples and skittles across the table, thankfully not falling.

He chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Let's just say Lady Luck loves the Jounouchi family."

Wasn't I thinking that only minutes earlier?

"What game?" I grin up at him, placing the sauce pot on the back burner.

"Pool today. Ran the table all afternoon."

"Alright!" I come by luck and gambling from my father, since he can't seem to keep a job he found other ways to try and support us. I'm always more accepting when he wins, when he loses I curse the fact he bothers. No one ever said I had to be consistent.

My thoughts are dragged back to the here and now when I feel one of his hands wrapping around my waist and the other cupping me from behind. I freeze and go still in his arms, suddenly frightened and uncertain. The moments before and now don't seem to connect properly in my mind. This is my part of the house, the safe zone. No touchy feely stuff is supposed to interfere here, it's against the house rules. He tilts his head down and rubs gently against my hair, breathing in deeply. I'm not sure what's wrong with me, I can feel myself shaking and my knees go out from under me, but he catches me before I fall.

The pan has spilled out onto the floor and I can still hear the slight sizzling of the meat from moments ago, and I watch helplessly as the juice runs out across the wood and begins to pool where the floor dips slightly.

"Katsuya! Katsuya!" my father's voice is far away now, in a whole 'nother plain of existence. Right now it's just me and the floor and what's left of dinner. My heart is beating too fast and my throat feels like it's closing over. My eyes become blurry and I shut them to keep out the painful wetness that is threatening to break and pour.

"Katsuya!"

His voice again and I don't know what's happening inside me, but I begin to cry like I haven't in years and I clutch at my arms, trying to hold myself inside, to keep the bad things out of my protective circle.

"Th-this is the kitchen. Kitchen." I whisper hoarsely, every word coming from my pain clogged throat, sounding harsh and pathetic. "The kitchen. It's the kitchen." I look up at him through clouded eyes and I can't maenseense of the hurt horrified face looming worriedly over me. "We're in the kitchen, daddy."

"Katsuya, are you okay? What's wrong? Are you--"

"The KITCHENI scI scream over him, my shouting drowning out his soft words of concern. "The kitchen, my kitchen!" I double over from the pain wracked up inside me and can't shout anymore. The tears fill the void and I can't make them stop.

Strong arms enfold me and pick me up effortlessly, carrying me through the house like a bride across the threshold. I'm not aware of much beside those arms and the musky scent of my father, a scent I'd know anywhere, no matter how long had passed. He sets me down softly onto my bed and I lay there unmoving as he undresses Onc Once I'm in my boxers and undershirt he smooths back my hair and kisses my forehead.

"It's okay Katsuya." he whispers gently into the quiet that's engulfed us since my sobs became weaker, lulled into the steady breathing that comes as sleep descends. He pulls the covers from under me and then folds them over me, tucking me in protectively. He kisses me once more and then heads for the door.

My hand reaches out and manages to latch onto the tail of his shirt. He looks back over his shoulder at me, his dark eyes a mystery. "I-I'm sorry," I stammer sleepily. "I didn't meant to ruin dinner, I didn't mean to get upset. I'm sorry."

He turns back and smiles down, his eyes warm, if distant. "I know Katsuya, it's okay. Everything's okay."

It seems almost like a question, and I nod to him. As he's closing the door I look up at him once more "I love you daddy," I whisper to him as I snuggle down deeply into the waiting arms of sleep.

"I love you too Katsuya." he replies and as the door closes I think lastly to myself, ~I know.~

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A/N: Not nearly so graphic, but I didn't want it to be. It was meant to be simpler in presentation, ande mee meandering in thought. To be honest the original version of this chappie had a shower scene, but for some reason I grew flustered actually writing for naked Jounouchi, so instead I have him musing about his love of showering. When I get over being so damn blushtastic there will probably be more showering as it, in and of itself, is a terribly meaningful symptom. This chapter's purpose was more to show the struggles of Jounouchi maintaining a certain level of separations fes fears, his love and his trying to be normal. (whatever normal is, I do not know. I don't think I'm it. lol)
Jenniyah: *gasp!* Jenniyah!....wow, I'm honoured. To have my sire review my fic, how cool. (I'm Betuana in "Vampires! A Dark Alleyway", your second most successful offspring.) Anyways, thank you very much for the compliments, I'm glad to be considered 'original' in this work. There might be others, but not many I can proudly say, none I know of. Not that I have hinghing against 'saving Jou' fics, they are the norm, I wanted to make something else entirely.
DarkQueen: Thank you for the kind review! Although I also loooove Seto/Jou, and watching Seto save the day and romance our darling pup, I'm not going in that direction. There are lots out there, and many better than anything I could come up with. I think this little story is fairly original, so maybe I'm setting the bar for others. Lol. BTW. Me like your review.
Dragondreamemi: mi: *blink*...um, I'll take that as the 'good' kind of disturbing, 'kay? lol.
Tik: Well, who am I to refuse all those 'pleases'? Thanks!
Mahayana: Wow. Lavish praise. You soooo know how to make this author happy!
First, it was supposed to be slow, it was kind of building up to eventual horror. Second, I'm glad you didn't claw your eyes out, that tends to be a bad thing. I'm glad you got the theme of the story, Jou's love for his father. I believe he still loves him though he fights the contradictions of the father he loves versus the man who hurts him. I think it's true to life and is the most important aspect of this fic. I also try to keep a thread of humour in dark works or else the sadness is too overwhelming. Thank you very much for giving me a review, I appreciate hearing from readers very much. I try to review as much as possible, but I unfortunately don't have as much free time to just read and enjoy on line as I used to. Thanks again.
Leeann: Thank you for your honest comments. I know this isn't to everyone's liking, but I'm glad you weren't like so many others who would rather flame me than put their comments so intelligently. Your honesty is appreciated. It occurs to me you'll probably never read this since you didn't really enjoy the theme of the story, but heck, you were kind enough to review.
Pyrasaur: Yep. You're right. Not in a million years would Jounouchi ever talk like this. I started my introspective-Jounouchi writing actually as a sly against the people who try to type out his accent in ridiculous contractions and make him dumb as a post. He's not this smart either, but I think it lends itself to a more dramatic form of writing than half of the stuff that people try to get away with. (I'm sorry, but I'm against Joey-speak in stories, it's painful to try and read the contractions used to try and nail his accent.) Anyways, thanks for the review!
rayemars : It was meant to be a little painfully horrifying in a calm sort of way. Thank you kindly for your comments, they are always appreciated.
Ashes: lol, someone who reads disclaimers, such a rarity. You weren't wrong in your presumptions, it was horror and acceptance intermingled. I think that it's probably true to life. Lol, you also like a story that makes you all jangly and such? I love it when a story actually upsets me or makes me feel something powerful about it. I am super flattered that my story did this for you. Thanks so much for telling me, now I can sit around and let my ego grow huge. whahahaah!...*cough*...sorry, thanks again! lol.

~Ryan_Ookami