most likely goodies ; an update book

another au

instead of doing my algebra homework let me write a fic instead

~

There's a long line at the grocery store, so instead Seto finds himself in a little antique shop. He figures the line had the die down eventually, so to kill time he might as well look for a vintage lamp. There's always a rustic feeling he receives when he steps into the store. The chime of the bells, the dusty air, and the old record player's sound that drifted through the store always made him feel welcomed. However, instead of the familiarized feeling of comfort, there's a type of despondency drifting through the air. It's a horrid feeling that makes the hairs on his neck stand on end.

He inhales in an attempt to relax himself and heads into one of the nearby aisles. He's shaking now, and oddly he doesn't know why. The brunet pulls down his sleeve and brushes his finger against the timer that had read 0:00:27. No, this can't be happening. Where could it be coming from?

He draws his attention back towards the front entrance of the store. No one appeared to be standing in front of the glass doors, and from what he could recall, no one except the shop keeper was currently in the store. The timer was ticking and he needed to get out of here, fast.

"Fuck the lamp," Seto curses under his breath. He bolts out of the store like a shopper on Black Friday: hastily. He's reversed the timer many times, he just needs to avoid whatever is coming at him. He pulls up his sleeve and gazes back at his wrist for a quick second.

0:00:00.

He stumbles backwards hitting the pavement below him. No, this can't be happening. He winces, trying to make sense of what's going on around him. Only then does he notice a hand reaching out in his general direction, a welcoming one. He gazes upwards, making eye contact to a blond with the brightest pair of blue eyes he's ever seen. Possibly a charismatic guy, he assumes. Not too shabby.

"I'm sorry!" He apologizes. "I wasn't watching where I was going!"

Seto doesn't take his hand, but instead stands up by himself. The blond in front of him takes it by surprise and, disappointedly, puts his hand back into his jean pocket. Seto doesn't say anything, he smiles sadly and heads off into the nearby alleyway. It's dark and ominous, thus leaving him time to think.

0:00:00.

The wretched number that reminded him of what fate had in store. It's flashing red now, meaning the time was soon to come. This has happened many times before, it's nothing new.

The timer doesn't discriminate.

He hears footsteps encroaching from behind and he reaches into his back pocket. It's the stupid blond, following behind him as if he was a lost dog. Seto turns around, gritting his teeth in a bitter fashion. He grips the handle within his pocket. Survival of the fittest: if he doesn't do this, then he can't live.

"You dropped your wallet," the blond states, holding up the brunet's brown leather wallet.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, slowly walking towards him.

"Huh?" He's confused, like most would be. Seto's hastening his pace now, bolting even, towards that blond in front of him. Out of he shadows, that timer is a constant reminder of all his sins. He withdraws the blade from his pocket and slams it into the other's chest. There's a loud cry before his body slams onto the pavement in front of his feet. Seto stifles a laugh from his throat as he checks his timer.

26280:52:39