Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Millennium Dark ❯ Investigations ( Chapter 12 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Sasha Janre 
MD deals with the aftermath of the scandal, and an investigative journalist looks into just how the reporter "broke the story".
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.19.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 308 | Status: Completed
MD deals with the aftermath of the scandal, and an investigative journalist looks into just how the reporter "broke the story".
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Drama / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.19.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 308 | Status: Completed
Millennium Dark
Chapter 12 “Investigations.”
Author’s notes: Wow, it’s been four years since I’ve posted a chapter of this fic. I really don’t have anything to say other than I fell out of the Yu-Gi-Oh! Fandom since then, but recently I’ve gotten somewhat back into it. I went on a search for Lizeth’s pictures that started everything, and I decided that I’d come back to this story fresh, and with a more matured writing style. Also, no apologies. This story is going to be written how I want it, and I’ll stick to my guns, this time. I’m not too sure how much longer the story will be, but I will finish it properly. Enjoy!
*~*
“Reactions to this ... incident, I’ll call it, varies,” Seto said slowly, sitting in his chair, looking over his desk to the four young men seated in a row in front of him. He tossed several magazines that ranged from reputable, to the teen-centered, right down to the never-to-be believed tabloids that ran such stories as ‘Woman had alien baby with three heads and six arms! Parents overjoyed at ruling the galaxy!’.
“...How much of a variance is there?” Yami glanced up from having been staring fixatedly at his studded wristbands.
Seto spared him a brief, expressionless glance before continuing on. “They range from the far right wanting to flay us, to the far left wanting to push the image of a homosexual couple to promote tolerance. Though, I should say that what our core demographic, our fans, think of the entire thing.”
“Have they joined their grandparents with the pitchforks and torches?” Bakura sneered, leaning back in his chair. “If they’d like, I’m sure I could give them something to really be worried about.”
“--No, that’s completely unnecessary. But if I find the reporter that started this mess, you could start with him.” Seto picked up one of the teen magazines, and flipped it open to the cover story. “It seems our female teenage fans find this to be quite... a good thing. Who knew teen girls wanted to see two male vocalists together? They seem quite sympathetic and supportive. It was a surprise to find all those fan-letters of support.”
“Quite a few even sent ya cookies!” Joey piped in, grinning. “Not ta take away from da seriousness of da situation or anythin’, but hey, at least our fans aren’t abandonin’ us.”
Shadi looked rather impressed, and after looking at Yami’s unchanged expression, could tell that he was far more concerned with what Yugi thought of him than anyone else. “Kaiba .. I can take a guess at what you’re going to say next. We aren’t going to make any mention of this unless we have to, correct? We’ll continue to record our album and let this spin itself.”
Seto nodded, pleased that someone had their head on straight. Then again, he was pretty sure Bakura’s could spin around on his neck like a top at the drop of a hat. “Exactly. There’s no need to make any statements of any kind. That would only fan the flame of ‘controversy’. We’ll let it do what it needs to, and if we need to make a statement or get involved in this media clusterfuck, then we will.”
“Fine with us,” Malik said, twirling the Rod in his hand. “Yami.”
Yami started slightly and looked over. “Yes?”
“..Get yourself out of the pit of despair you’re intent on throwing yourself into,” Malik answered, standing up. “Or at least use it to write some songs. We’ve got an album to finish.”
Shadi stood up as well, as did Bakura. “He’s right. We can all use something else to focus on while this media storm is going on around us. What do you say?”
Yami looked uncertain, and gave a long sigh. “I don’t kn---” Suddenly, Bakura yanked him up by his arm. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Bakura was unrepentant. “Getting your depressed ass up, what does it look like? You know, most songwriters get their angst out through this stellar new idea called writing songs. You should put your energy into that instead of sulking. It’d be easier on ever -- why are you looking at me like that?”
“Ah .. I’m sorry. It’s just hard not to be surprised when you’re being nice, Bakura,” Yami explained, a very thin smile crossing his lips. “I appreciate it. No, not just that. That night in my hotel room, as well.”
“Look! My patience is getting paper-thin!” Bakura interrupted, looking more embarassed than angry. He gave Yami a shove, though not as hard as it should have been if he were truly angry. “Move!”
~*~
Papers, photographs, printouts and other documents were scattered everywhere on a well-used brown desk, the small office which housed the desk being lit by a ceiling light, but the desk also had a desklamp ready for those late nights. A young woman sighed, and picked a piece of paper up that had some information printed on it, with a picture of Yami Akaiame, the lead vocalist for the pop-rock band Millennium Dark. Flipping the picture up, she looked at the paper it was clipped to, as if the words she had read hundreds of times before would somehow yield new information. With a heavy sigh, the paper and its partner photograph back on the desk, picking up the third-rate paper that had initially broken the story of the secret affair between Akaiame and Motou.
“Something reeks about this article. There’s no way a guy like Akaiame would never say something like that .. but how do I go about proving it?” she muttered to herself, flipping through the story, which was written with obvious, sensationalized bias.
“Why do you need to prove it?” came a voice from the doorway, and she looked up from the organized chaos on her desk. Ryuji Otogi, the famed guitarist and lead singer of his own band Snake-Eyes, was leaning against the doorframe. “You were supposed to spend the day with me, Simran, remember?”
Simran gave a thin, apologetic smile. “Ryuji...” She shook her head, and stood up, stretching. “I got caught up in--”
“Your work, I know.” Ryuji waved a hand, causing the die earring he wore on his left ear to swing slightly. “You’re getting to be as bad as that Ex of yours. Come on, leave the investigating for a little bit and come with me?”
“All right, all right ... stop looking at me like that.” Simran rubbed her neck, and joined Ryuji by the door. “Do you mind if I talk it out loud with you? There’s just something I don’t understand.”
Ryuji sighed, and shook his head. “All right, I know you’ll just do it anyway.” Smirking, he looked over at Simran. “Talk.”
She smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” As she locked the office, she turned to him. “Okay. So when the intial story broke, the entire thing not only reeked of bias, but there was something unbelievably disjointed about how the facts were presented. Do you know what I mean? Like they had those slips of magnet that had words written on them, and rearranged it into a music article.”
“So what you’re saying is that you’re trying to nail this reporter for taking Akaiame’s words out of context.” Ryuji ran a hand through his bangs, and hummed thoughtfully. “Make an example out of ‘em?”
Simran nodded. “Yes, exactly. When you’re a journalist, there’s no excuse for making up things like this. Even more so when I’m convinced the reporter used ... less than ... ethical means to get those words.”
Ryuji stopped and looked at her, now getting what she was hinting at. “Wait. Are you saying you’re suspecting this guy bugged the room? Well! This looks less and less like an obsession with your work and something that should be done.” He put his hands in his pockets. “But what are you going to do about it? Kaiba isn’t going to take this as a favour, or even a good deed. Especially from you.”
“I know. Kaiba’s never been one to take to something like this .. or anything like this well. But I have to do this.” Simran sighed, and rubbed her forehead. “I’ve been following Millennium Dark’s schedule, and I think I know where to start looking next. -- And..that’s where you come in.” She grinned, patting his chest lightly. “Do you think you could possibly use that star power of yours to get an appointment with Lizeth, the photographer?”
“--! Aha. So that’s your angle. Well, I suppose if I must have my picture taken by a beautiful, skillful photographer so you can get to the bottom of a scandal plaguging a band you’re not involved in, who am I to say no?” Ryuji laughed and shook his head. “All right. This might be interesting.”
~*~
Yami gave a long sigh, and looked down at the notebook that had been written through and over again at least half a dozen times. “I think it’s done.”
Bakura looked up and raised an eyebrow. “What is?”
“The song I wrote for Yugi. It’s going on the album and I’m going to sing it at our live performance.” Yami swallowed tightly, and gripped the notebook. “I’m taking this into my own hands.”
“Fine,” Bakura leaned back and ran his hands through his white, spiked hair. “But I get to title it. A long song for my love midget. How’s that?”
“BAKURA!” Yami’s yell of indignance was lost over Bakura’s loud cackling.
-TBC-
End Note: I’ve got the last chapter of MD planned out, and it should be up within a couple days. Or something like that, since I don’t know when i’m actually going to get my laptop back. Thanks for reading! XD;
Chapter 12 “Investigations.”
Author’s notes: Wow, it’s been four years since I’ve posted a chapter of this fic. I really don’t have anything to say other than I fell out of the Yu-Gi-Oh! Fandom since then, but recently I’ve gotten somewhat back into it. I went on a search for Lizeth’s pictures that started everything, and I decided that I’d come back to this story fresh, and with a more matured writing style. Also, no apologies. This story is going to be written how I want it, and I’ll stick to my guns, this time. I’m not too sure how much longer the story will be, but I will finish it properly. Enjoy!
*~*
“Reactions to this ... incident, I’ll call it, varies,” Seto said slowly, sitting in his chair, looking over his desk to the four young men seated in a row in front of him. He tossed several magazines that ranged from reputable, to the teen-centered, right down to the never-to-be believed tabloids that ran such stories as ‘Woman had alien baby with three heads and six arms! Parents overjoyed at ruling the galaxy!’.
“...How much of a variance is there?” Yami glanced up from having been staring fixatedly at his studded wristbands.
Seto spared him a brief, expressionless glance before continuing on. “They range from the far right wanting to flay us, to the far left wanting to push the image of a homosexual couple to promote tolerance. Though, I should say that what our core demographic, our fans, think of the entire thing.”
“Have they joined their grandparents with the pitchforks and torches?” Bakura sneered, leaning back in his chair. “If they’d like, I’m sure I could give them something to really be worried about.”
“--No, that’s completely unnecessary. But if I find the reporter that started this mess, you could start with him.” Seto picked up one of the teen magazines, and flipped it open to the cover story. “It seems our female teenage fans find this to be quite... a good thing. Who knew teen girls wanted to see two male vocalists together? They seem quite sympathetic and supportive. It was a surprise to find all those fan-letters of support.”
“Quite a few even sent ya cookies!” Joey piped in, grinning. “Not ta take away from da seriousness of da situation or anythin’, but hey, at least our fans aren’t abandonin’ us.”
Shadi looked rather impressed, and after looking at Yami’s unchanged expression, could tell that he was far more concerned with what Yugi thought of him than anyone else. “Kaiba .. I can take a guess at what you’re going to say next. We aren’t going to make any mention of this unless we have to, correct? We’ll continue to record our album and let this spin itself.”
Seto nodded, pleased that someone had their head on straight. Then again, he was pretty sure Bakura’s could spin around on his neck like a top at the drop of a hat. “Exactly. There’s no need to make any statements of any kind. That would only fan the flame of ‘controversy’. We’ll let it do what it needs to, and if we need to make a statement or get involved in this media clusterfuck, then we will.”
“Fine with us,” Malik said, twirling the Rod in his hand. “Yami.”
Yami started slightly and looked over. “Yes?”
“..Get yourself out of the pit of despair you’re intent on throwing yourself into,” Malik answered, standing up. “Or at least use it to write some songs. We’ve got an album to finish.”
Shadi stood up as well, as did Bakura. “He’s right. We can all use something else to focus on while this media storm is going on around us. What do you say?”
Yami looked uncertain, and gave a long sigh. “I don’t kn---” Suddenly, Bakura yanked him up by his arm. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Bakura was unrepentant. “Getting your depressed ass up, what does it look like? You know, most songwriters get their angst out through this stellar new idea called writing songs. You should put your energy into that instead of sulking. It’d be easier on ever -- why are you looking at me like that?”
“Ah .. I’m sorry. It’s just hard not to be surprised when you’re being nice, Bakura,” Yami explained, a very thin smile crossing his lips. “I appreciate it. No, not just that. That night in my hotel room, as well.”
“Look! My patience is getting paper-thin!” Bakura interrupted, looking more embarassed than angry. He gave Yami a shove, though not as hard as it should have been if he were truly angry. “Move!”
~*~
Papers, photographs, printouts and other documents were scattered everywhere on a well-used brown desk, the small office which housed the desk being lit by a ceiling light, but the desk also had a desklamp ready for those late nights. A young woman sighed, and picked a piece of paper up that had some information printed on it, with a picture of Yami Akaiame, the lead vocalist for the pop-rock band Millennium Dark. Flipping the picture up, she looked at the paper it was clipped to, as if the words she had read hundreds of times before would somehow yield new information. With a heavy sigh, the paper and its partner photograph back on the desk, picking up the third-rate paper that had initially broken the story of the secret affair between Akaiame and Motou.
“Something reeks about this article. There’s no way a guy like Akaiame would never say something like that .. but how do I go about proving it?” she muttered to herself, flipping through the story, which was written with obvious, sensationalized bias.
“Why do you need to prove it?” came a voice from the doorway, and she looked up from the organized chaos on her desk. Ryuji Otogi, the famed guitarist and lead singer of his own band Snake-Eyes, was leaning against the doorframe. “You were supposed to spend the day with me, Simran, remember?”
Simran gave a thin, apologetic smile. “Ryuji...” She shook her head, and stood up, stretching. “I got caught up in--”
“Your work, I know.” Ryuji waved a hand, causing the die earring he wore on his left ear to swing slightly. “You’re getting to be as bad as that Ex of yours. Come on, leave the investigating for a little bit and come with me?”
“All right, all right ... stop looking at me like that.” Simran rubbed her neck, and joined Ryuji by the door. “Do you mind if I talk it out loud with you? There’s just something I don’t understand.”
Ryuji sighed, and shook his head. “All right, I know you’ll just do it anyway.” Smirking, he looked over at Simran. “Talk.”
She smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” As she locked the office, she turned to him. “Okay. So when the intial story broke, the entire thing not only reeked of bias, but there was something unbelievably disjointed about how the facts were presented. Do you know what I mean? Like they had those slips of magnet that had words written on them, and rearranged it into a music article.”
“So what you’re saying is that you’re trying to nail this reporter for taking Akaiame’s words out of context.” Ryuji ran a hand through his bangs, and hummed thoughtfully. “Make an example out of ‘em?”
Simran nodded. “Yes, exactly. When you’re a journalist, there’s no excuse for making up things like this. Even more so when I’m convinced the reporter used ... less than ... ethical means to get those words.”
Ryuji stopped and looked at her, now getting what she was hinting at. “Wait. Are you saying you’re suspecting this guy bugged the room? Well! This looks less and less like an obsession with your work and something that should be done.” He put his hands in his pockets. “But what are you going to do about it? Kaiba isn’t going to take this as a favour, or even a good deed. Especially from you.”
“I know. Kaiba’s never been one to take to something like this .. or anything like this well. But I have to do this.” Simran sighed, and rubbed her forehead. “I’ve been following Millennium Dark’s schedule, and I think I know where to start looking next. -- And..that’s where you come in.” She grinned, patting his chest lightly. “Do you think you could possibly use that star power of yours to get an appointment with Lizeth, the photographer?”
“--! Aha. So that’s your angle. Well, I suppose if I must have my picture taken by a beautiful, skillful photographer so you can get to the bottom of a scandal plaguging a band you’re not involved in, who am I to say no?” Ryuji laughed and shook his head. “All right. This might be interesting.”
~*~
Yami gave a long sigh, and looked down at the notebook that had been written through and over again at least half a dozen times. “I think it’s done.”
Bakura looked up and raised an eyebrow. “What is?”
“The song I wrote for Yugi. It’s going on the album and I’m going to sing it at our live performance.” Yami swallowed tightly, and gripped the notebook. “I’m taking this into my own hands.”
“Fine,” Bakura leaned back and ran his hands through his white, spiked hair. “But I get to title it. A long song for my love midget. How’s that?”
“BAKURA!” Yami’s yell of indignance was lost over Bakura’s loud cackling.
-TBC-
End Note: I’ve got the last chapter of MD planned out, and it should be up within a couple days. Or something like that, since I don’t know when i’m actually going to get my laptop back. Thanks for reading! XD;