Runaways [MikaYuu]

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

A/N: I am so not sorry for this fluff. *winks* 

Overwhelming disappointment sunk in, making Yuu's heart drop to his stomach. He didn't know what he was thinking before, but now he just felt dumb. Of course he wouldn't find Mika there, late on a Monday night, three months later.

God, Yuu seriously was an idiot sometimes.

A glimmer of hope remained in him, flickering like a tiny spark of light in a sea of darkness. Maybe I just didn't spot him immediately, Yuu thought, feeling hopeful but not too confident. He took a step inside, flushing when he realized he was standing absentmindedly while leaving the door open. The door shut behind him, wood slamming against wood.

Yuu gravitated towards the dance floor, wondering if he would spot a flash of blonde in a sea of generic dark brown hair. When he didn't, he didn't feel too compelled to get stuck in the crowd and pushed through to the other side, where the tables were.

Before Yuu could look anywhere else or perhaps ask around to find Mika's whereabouts, a bark of rowdy laughter and a gleeful cheer cut through the piercing melody of the fiddles. Yuu snapped his head to locate the outburst; upon finding it and taking in the scene made him nearly stop in his tracks.

"Aw yeah! Full house, fellas! Bring it in!" A voice shouted triumphantly, both raspy and melodic at the same time.

Was that Mika's voice? Yuu thought. No, it couldn't be...

It irked Yuu that he could remember Mika's voice after a three-month long spread of silence from the teenager. He just couldn't figure out why he was able to recognize it.

In one of the corners of the pub, a circular-shaped table full of extremely large and equally terrifying men were sitting, seemingly playing a poker game. Most of them were either smoking a cigar or drinking something strong like rum or whisky. Their arms were inked with menacing tattoos and most of them were head to toe in black clothing.

A single light hung from the ceiling, illuminating the table with a soft gold hue. Whereas the light darkened the frightening expressions of the old men, it practically sent a spotlight down on the boy who clearly did not belong in that bunch; Mika.

Mika was exactly like Yuu remembered, but the mental image in his head was finally a real picture, something real. He was real this entire time, and that night wasn't just some figment of his imagination. He stood out like an angel in the hands of devils. Mika's cheeks were flushed with a rosy pink and his blonde curls bounced as he threw down pocket aces; with the board he had three aces and two queens. One of the burly guys pounded the table angrily, the force of the sound echoing and bouncing off the walls. The man, frustrated he didn't win, mucked his hand and pushed a hefty sum of circular poker chips forward.

Mika collected his pile of chips victoriously, stacking them in neat, sky-high piles. From what Yuu can see of the table, he's not winning, but he's got a good portion of the total chips now.

Yuu, feeling intrusive, quietly observed from a distance for a while longer. Mika's profile was in view, and he takes in every movement. His eyes traveled down to Mika's arms, watching intensely as each tendon and muscle flexed in his arms as he moved. His hand twitched as he shuffled his chips, and while a good poker player may recognize that action as nervous trembling, Yuu was too entranced by him to consider anything else.

Mika's movements were definitely less fluid and elegant as when he is dancing; when he played he kept each motion rigid and adamant. His legs were crossed, propped up on the empty chair next to him. He blew smoke from the cigarette between his fingers, and there was an unyielding coldness in his expression, stoic-faced as to not give away any information about his hand. Yuu figured if his mother watched the actions of Mika right now, she would be so disgusted at his lack of manners that she would faint.