Yuka Makoto
Yuka yawned, leaning against the black backboard of his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs. As his arms rose above his head, back arching in a pleasant stretch, the bed creaked slightly, his current book falling off his lap and onto the floor. With a grumble, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly, he reached down to grab it, finding that he was just a hairs length away from his target. Trying to untangle himself from the bed sheets caused Yuka more harm than success, all the while colorful curses flowing from his lips.
Fed up with trying to detangle himself, Yuka thought the next best plan of action was to launch himself out of the bed, grabbing his fallen book in the process. It had worked once, so it should be able to work again. (Of course he was purposely forgetting the countless times it hadn’t worked) Coiling up against the backboard, Yuka prepared himself to catapult off his wonderful, comfortable bed to snatch up his fallen book.
With a conceited smirk, his body was suddenly airborne, arms outstretched to seize his ‘reward’, when a funny, nostalgic feeling pooled in his stomach, startling him. As a result, he landed face first in the cold hard wood, the book a few feet away from him. Yelping loudly he struggled to sit up, yet the weight of his body off the bed was greater than what stayed on the bed, making the sheets fall to the ground along with his legs.
Sitting up, legs and arms crossed and his book closed and resting peacefully in Yuka’s lap as sharp gold eyes glared at it darkly, trying to calm the urge to tear the stupid thing apart and throw its remains in the fire, and toss the ashes into a mixture of water and oil, and once again set fire to it. His eyes lit up at the thought, but the rational part of his brain overruled the irked, angry section of his brain, smashing it into bits and pieces.
His gaze wandered around his room, settling on looking out the window, contemplating what the feeling was. He had felt it before, that much was certain. But what was it that was the question. Lost in thought, Yuka did not realize the frown that pulled at his lips, tugging them downward.
"Yuuuukaaa!" his older brother wailed, pounding on the door. Yuka glared at the door, growling for him to go away. He didn’t want to move, especially for any of his siblings. "My life depends on it! Yukaaa! Open the door! Please, we have to leave soon!" he cried out, and then abruptly stopped. Secretly Yuka hoped a truck appeared out of nowhere and ran him over. As soon as it crossed his mind though, he felt bad and actually got up to see what he wanted. Just as he was about to open the door, another cry came from the other side, effectively pissing him off again. "Come on, come on! Hurry!"
With that Yuka yanked open his door, snarling at his brother, “What the hell do you want Ruko!” he grumbled, stepping out of his room to glare at him, “You better have a good reason for continuously banging on my door, wailing at the top of your bloody lungs!” he seethed, gold eyes flashing dangerously. He loved Ruko, he truly did, but he got on his nerves quicker than it took Yuka to change from human skin to lion and back again.
Although he was mad, he closed the door behind him and leaned against it in a calm manner, though his thoughts were far from such. If Ruko didn’t have a good reason for annoying the frigging hell out of his younger brother, he was sure he was going to land a good punch or two on his face for disturbing him.
Gaze lifting from Ruko’s panicked face; he spotted the two older siblings, Silvia and Mukuro, along with another Grace, the youngest girl out of the six of them. He watched as their lips moved, not comprehending what they were exactly saying until he heard the word ‘food’.
Not long after they had disappeared, Ruko still nagging him to move, complaining about some rodent in his room, the smell of delicious food floated by Yuka’s nose and a large, animalist grin slip his face.
“Foooood!!!” he shouted loudly, close to leaping for joy. Instead, he just grabbed Ruko’s wrist tightly, dragging him down the hall and into the kitchen, where a table of mouth-watering food awaited him.
Salivating, Yuka dived in, grabbing as many pancakes as he could, smothering them in syrup, along with at least 5 pieces of bacon, those too getting drenched in the sticky liquid.
“Thank you Silvia…” he mumbled around a mouth full of food, prepared to eat it all if the others didn’t take something for themselves.