Yugioh-The Cursed Desk

[Yami Bakura]

Title: The Cursed Desk
Rating: PG
Summary: You, Bakura, Ryou, Malik, and Marik all get stuck in your Japanese class...need I say more?

Warnings: Pure hilarity and some OOC since this was written about four years ago.

Pairing: Readerx??? (You can decide)

Disclaimer: Yami-chan owns NOTHING!!

A/N: Okay, this is an old fic that I found in my closet (printed) that was written….a few years ago, but I wanted to share it with you since I found it, after re-reading it, to be quite hilarious. However, I didn’t write it myself. My friend wrote it for me and when I told her about it, she said that she didn’t want to own it anymore so it was given to me officially. ^-^ So technically I own nothing….well actually I own half the plot. See, my friend who wrote it and I during freshman Japanese seriously thought that the desk in front of me was cursed and well…this came out of it. ^-^;;; Just read on and find out for yourself.

And remember: PM reviews! ^-^ Have a good day.

[Yami Bakura]

“Nooo!! This is cruel and inhumane and a bunch of other things I can’t even think of! Open this door or SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!!!: Malik yelled, pounding on the wooden door as if it would open due to some strange clicking of the gigantic padlock on the doorknob.

“You DO realize that it’s not working aibou,” Marik commented coolly, watching Malik panic, which was actually pretty entertaining. Can you say bleached blonde hair sticking out in all directions? Malik smoldered, glaring at his yami, and then pulled out the Rod, pointing it at the door.

“Open!!!” he yelled dramatically, closing his eyes and waiting for the Rod to shoot something along the lines of a stream of gold energy and blow the padlock to itty bitty smithereens. Unfortunately for him and his expectations; the Rod fizzled, made a sound like a toaster being dropped into a full bathtub, and died. He stared at it in horror.

“I don’t think it’s working,” (Your Name) commented leaning both elbows on her desk and smirking. Malik stuck is lower lip out cutely, stalked over, and sliding into the desk in front of hers, completely missing the nameplate on the chair back that read:

“THE CURSED DESK! Sit here at your own risk!”—in surprisingly familiar handwriting that looked vaguely like Bakura’s.

“What is this diendish place we have been trapped in?” he demanded angrily of her.

(Your Name) raised an eyebrow, “My Japanese class?”

“Then where are the mortals who attend this freakish academy?” Marik asked.

“We had another bomb threat and they all went outside. I was about to go before the door was suspiciously slammed shut and locked with you two inside.”

“Bomb threat…Other, didn’t Bakura say that he was…?” Marik looked over at Malik quizzically, watching Malik’s lavender eyes narrow as he thought the same thing.

“That moron!”

“I AM NOT!!!” A strikingly familiar voice erupted and Malik jolted backwards, fall out of his desk, as was expected since it was in fact cursed.

Yami Bakura, who had just appeared, smirked at him, “I KNEW you’d do that.”

“Yami, why are we here AGAIN? Did you put another bomb threat!?! Oh so help me if you did…” Ryou appeared as well, glaring daggers at his yami.

Bakura grinned, showing tiny fangs, “Maaaa~ybe.”

“That word sounds so wrong coming out of your mouth that way.”

“True. I like saying DOOOOOOO~M SO much better.”

Ryou sighed, looking over at Marik, Malik, and (Your Name), and gave a faint wave, “Ano, ohayo gozaimasu. Chotto matte kudasai.”

Then to Bakura, “You open that door now!”

Bakura sweatdropped in the face of his enraged other and looked over at (Your Name).

Sauntering over and plopping into the “cursed” seat in front of her, he smirked at Ryou evilly, “You’re just flustered to be faced with a pretty girl and not know what to say.”

“I am NOT!” Ryou exploded then started immediately apologizing repeatedly to (Your Name) for not being taken with her beauty. (Your Name) just looked at him oddly, then at the still-grinning Bakura, then over at the bemused Marik, and the sitting-on-the-floor Malik.

“Have you been setting those bomb threats Bakura?” she asked, returning her attention to the evil Bakura.

“Yes it was me! I did it for LOVE, MONEY, and REVENGE!” the yami chirped enthusiastically. (Now try to imagine Yami Bakura chirping…I didn’t think you could.)

“…”

“all right, I did it to infuriate Ryou. But I’ve always wanted to say that…” Bakura admitted unhappily under the disbelieving stare of the rest of the group.

“Unlock. The. Door.” Malik said in a deadly tone.

Bakura sweatdropped, “Why don’t you just use the Rod?”

“It…,” Malik glared down at it, the gold seeming almost to shrivel under the force of his glare, “—broke. Don’t remind me.”

“Well, then I’m afraid that there’s nothing I can…” Bakura started, in a properly tragic tone when Ryou interrupted.

“No, you’ve got the staff from…”

“NOT THAT!!!” Bakura yelled in panic, falling out of his seat in horror.

Ryou grinned, turning to (Your Name), and sat on top of a desk in a very un-Ryou-like manner.

“I got him to watch them! The CCS dvds! And he liked them so much that he made a staff that looks exactly like…“

“DON’T TELL HER THAT!!!”

“—And it can do was hers’ does! It should have no trouble with that lock!”

Marik was looking at Bakura in disbelief, one eyebrow quirked upwards in bemusement, “Really now, Bakura. To have fallen so far…”

“Shut up Baywatch.”

“WHAT did you call me!?!”

“Oh yeah, you think you’re all that with your bleach-blonde hair and all that and how you get it to stick straight up in the air when you go psycho…” Bakura muttered falling out of his seat, trudging over to the door and pulling out, you guessed it, and EXACT replica of Card Captor Sakura’s staff. Complete with a tiny Kero keychain at the end of it.

Bakura whirled to glare at Ryou, “ This is all your fault!” he proclaimed proudly, turning back, stick the strange looking shojo item in the padlock, and with an explosion of lights, confetti, and little butterflies in pastel colors, the door swung open.

Malik sighed, “It always has to be about BAKURA doesn’t it? It’s never me. I’m always just “vanishing” because my yami is such a psycho.”

Marik looked at him, the look that kinda says: “Come ON. I’m just better, eviler, and cooler that you is all!”

“Be quiet aibou, this isn’t an angst genre.” He said.

“But I wanna ANGST!” Malik whined unhappily and the yami sweatdropped.

“Time to go…”

“Nooo~!” Lisa, (Your Name)’s friend, had suddenly appeared, tackling Ryou, who had just sat down in the cursed desk, to the ground.

“You can’t leave!! NEVER!!!”

(Your Name) sweatdropped, looking down at the two, “Okay, that scary.”

Bakura looked down as well, sitting on top of the cursed desk, “Do you think my aibou can breathe?”

“Probably not.” She responded and he sighed dramatically.

“Drat…”


Ending Note: Yeah…completely 100% random but based off true events. The year this was written we had over 13 fake bomb threats at my high school. Not only did it piss me off but we missed a lot of school because of it.