If You Feel Better

Chapter 42

The room erupted with laughter, bouncing off the walls, enhancing the sound even more. All of the men were stuffed inside the dining hall, hands clutching wine and beer as if their lives depended on it. Mountains of fish, beef, lamb, pork, and poultry lined the entire length of the dining table, all of it stolen from hardworking farmers trying to make a living for their families.

One man had his leg standing on his chair and the other propped up on the table, center of attention. He had his chalice to his lips, chugging the full contents from the brim to the bottom. The froth spilled from the sides of his cup, overflowing onto the tabletop below, but he didn't slow down. He kept going, leaning farther and farther back the emptier his cup got.

Finally, he held his empty vessel up high in triumph, the crowd erupting into a roar of cheers and celebration. Bakura laughed along with his men, slugging back his own alcoholic drink. Aya watched with disgust, judgmentally sneering at the obscene display. She was being forcibly subjected to watch men drinking, burping, and throwing up. She was made to stay in Bakura's lap at the head of the table, bouncing and nearly falling with every lively move he made. He had one arm around her and the other gripping a constantly full cup.

One by one, they took turns standing on top of the table, performing one trick or another with alcohol or telling a story of the shenanigans they were up to during their quests, usually torturing or murdering or something of equivalence. The entire room would howl with laughter and applause, followed by the chugging of more drinks and the consuming of more meat.

Aya watched as Bakura downed his fifth full glass, making her feel sick just being next to him. She scoffed under her breath, wishing she were anywhere else but there.

"Having fun, princess?" he asked, pouring himself his sixth from one of the many bottles that littered the table and threw it back just as quick.

"Do I really have to be here?" she questioned back, watching uncomfortably as a room full of grown men became louder and more intoxicated while she, the only woman, just sat there in their master's lap and looked on. The men's commotion drowned out the conversation between them and nearly all of them were too far gone to fully realize what was being said anyways.

"Of course," he answered, tightening his arm around her and pulling her further up against him on his lap. "Otherwise, I'd miss you too much." He leaned in as if he was going in for a kiss, teasing her much to her annoyance.

She blocked his face with her hand, pushing it away with aversion, repulsed by the overwhelming stench of booze emanating from his breath. "Can't I just wait in the bedroom?"

Bakura laughed and poured himself yet another drink, carelessly tossing the now-empty bottle behind him where it shattered into miniscule fragments upon contact with the ground. "So you can be by yourself in an unlocked room completely unguarded?" He slugged back his seventh drink, feeling the full effects of the alcohol he'd been consuming, but refusing to stop having so much fun. "Not on your life."

"Ugh," she moaned to herself in protest and turning her head away from him.

"Lighten up, Aya," he said with a grin, pouring more wine into his chalice. "Have a drink. You're allowed to, you know." He tried shoving the drink in Aya's face, which she also hastily pushed away. The liquor sloshed over the side, somewhat spilling onto both of them.

He cackled with the hysteria brought about by inebriation, finishing what was left in the cup. He let out a satisfied hiss from the burn of the alcohol and slapped the cup back onto the table, nearly denting it.

He wrapped his arms fully around Aya and pulled her close playfully. "Oh, come now, Aya," he said with a coy chuckle. "Try and have some fun. We are celebrating the chaos and destruction we inflicted at your party after all. Why the long face?" He laughed at his own words enthusiastically much to Aya's contempt, smacking the table and making it shake.