The Beast Underneath: A Yu-Gi-Oh! Fanfiction

Chapter Forty-Four: Baking - Now With Angst

The clouds tickled. This wasn't a completely inaccurate statement; clouds are made of mist, and if you've ever run really fast through a light-spraying sprinkler (that isn't full of freezing water), you'll find it almost does tickle. It was basically the same thing, flying through the clouds. They'd even cracked glow sticks in broad daylight, just to keep track of each other in the cloud cover. Kiria's was greenish-blue, Axel's was yellow, and Malice had a pink one. The little, bobbing colors spun and twirled in the clouds. As much as Kiria knew Axel would deny it, she thought maybe her sister was enjoying this for once.

Meanwhile...

Shizira sat reading a book. It wasn't very often you caught the girl reading, but on this special occasion she was. More accurately, she was perched at the dining room table under a bright ceiling light with a handful of different pens and a packet of sticky notes, going through and trying to decipher what the Egyptian in Kiria's old spell book actually stated. When she cracked the case, she'd write down the spell's general gist upon a sticky note, and carefully plaster it to the edge of the page. These were dainty, hand-crafted sheets of paper, after all; more dust than fibers, with the ink barely left, so faded by fingerprints and age. The shapes were still discernible, however, so Shizira also took it upon herself to take a touch-up ink pen and cleanly reprint the symbols. If she had to classify herself as any particular Mage, she assumed maybe she'd be like an Art Restorer - but for magic texts and spells. Rewrite them, re-code them, make them work and work properly.

On the other end of the bone, her counterpart (in translucent form) was anxiously pacing back and forth across the floor. It wasn't steadfast pacing; she'd walk a little bit, stop and think, turn and walk a little bit this direction, rotate and walk another way, stop, keep walking, maybe stare contemplatively out the window for a while. On a dreary day like this, it only rallied the anxious static in the air more.

"Can you stop that?"

Izira paused in stirring her own angst to stare at her host for a moment. "Why?"

"You're just- it's just distracting."

"Cry about it."

"I swear to the Gods-"

"Keep swearing."

"Do you want to make muffins?"

"...What?! Where the hell did you pull that?"

"You're being anxious, so I thought maybe trying to do something by the book might get you to focus. Like making muffins. Can you even bake?"

"I don't give a damn about your stupid muffins."

"I'm trying to be polite."

"You haven't learned a damn thing still. Tsk-tsk, what a shame. Why aren't you blonde?"

"I'm stubborn, like you."

"Stubborn suits me. It's annoying when it's you."

"Fine by me. I can just make some 'stupid muffins' while you keep acting like a caged lion in the corner there." Shizira rose and capped her pen, leaving her project on the table. She shuffled over to the kitchen, reaching up with her fingers and groping for the high cabinet where they kept muffin mix. Her sweatshirt rode up, revealing a sliver of stomach.

"Whore," Izira coughed.

"Shut up," Shizira snorted right back, finally grabbing the box only to have it topple out of her grip and smack onto her head. She caught it as it slipped off, holding it in her hands and then batting the cupboard door shut with it.

"You aren't graceful in a kitchen."

"You aren't graceful at any given moment. You're like a really aggressive, magical wrecking ball, honestly."