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Post by Scribbler on Jan 20, 2012 23:47:09 GMT -5
It was as if imagining her had summoned her here, like a Duel Monsters card erupting onto a field using the latest Kaiba Corp technology. Mokuba advanced, half expecting the trio to disappear again. They had been detained by one of the security guards manning the front door and the boy he didn’t recognise was arguing furiously.
“Do you even know who I am?” he demanded.
“Nope,” the guard replied easily. He was an old hand at this; the Kaiba medical facility was for private and exclusive use only. Select members of elite society and certain celebrities, all handpicked for their exclusivity and ability not to blab to the media, were the only people allowed in. Seto had set down the rule that no entourage would be permitted if you were accepted as a patient here, to test out the latest medical advances his team had discovered. The guard folded his beefy arms and regarded the furious teenager with an emotion somewhere between indifference and mild disdain. “And I don’t wanna know. You ain’t on the list. Ergo, you ain’t gettin’ in.”
“Who the hell uses ‘ain’t’ and ‘ergo’ in the same sentence?” the boy threw up his hands. “Boy, I knew this Seto Kaiba character was a cretinous asshat, but this take the –”
“Mokuba!” Anzu spotted him and rushed over – or tried to until the guard jutted out an arm and nearly clotheslined her.
“Takes the Mokuba?” the boy echoed in confusion. “What?”
“Anzu? Jounouchi?” Mokuba approached the guard. “It’s okay, Goei, I know them.”
“You know them, Mr. Mokuba?” The guard didn’t sound convinced. He shrugged when Mokuba nodded. “I guess it’s okay then.”
Mokuba ushered the three inside and into the café off the foyer. He sat them at a small tasteful round table reminiscent of a Parisian restaurant, and felt only slightly uncomfortable when he sat down and they still all towered over him.
“What are you doing here?”
“You need to ask us this?” Jounouchi said, somewhat stiffly.
Mokuba frowned at him, but was distracted when Anzu spoke.
“We came to see Yuugi, of course.”
“You can’t.” The words slipped out before Mokuba processed how they sounded. “I mean, nobody can.”
Anzu’s expression darkened. “His mom said to keep us out, didn’t she?”
“No. It’s the doctor’s orders. Yuugi’s under lockdown – no visitors except his mother, grandfather and select members of his medical team. He can’t leave his room. They’ve given him some sort of drug to relieve the … um …” He realised he was announcing classified medical information he wasn’t supposed to know himself. He had only learned about Yuugi’s condition when his grandpa kindly clued him in. He could get in big trouble for telling them any of this.
“Relieve the what?” Anzu leaned forward. “Mokuba? Has something else happened to Yuugi?”
Mokuba bit his lip. She was so worried. Surely it was okay to tell her. These were Yuugi’s friends, after all; and Mokuba knew how much friendship meant to Yuugi.
His brows pulled together and he turned to the new boy. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you.”
“Ryuuji Otogi,” the boy said, tossing his black ponytail over his shoulder in a slightly affected way. “Yuugi’s good friend.”
“I’ve never heard of you before.”
“It’s okay, Mokuba,” Anzu assured him. “Otogi really is a friend. Now please, what’s happened to Yuugi?”
“I can’t … I shouldn’t …” Seto wouldn’t be happy. He wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of Yuugi’s friends. He especially didn’t like Jounouchi or Anzu, considering them a loud-mouthed idiot and a speechifying busybody, respectively.
“Mokuba, please.” Anzu’s voice sounded tiny and so very worried.
Mokuba sighed and relented. “So you can see why you’re not allowed in to see him,” he said after he had finished.
“Because seeing us might shock him,” Jounouchi said with palpable disgust. Something about the way he pronounced his words sounded off to Mokuba, but he was much more concerned with the way Anzu’s face had gone blank.
“Seeing us would hurt him?” she murmured. “Just seeing us? So we might never be allowed to see him again if he never recovers his memories.”
“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Otogi said. “This doctor guy sounds hopeful –”
“No he doesn’t,” Anzu cut him off. “He sounds like he’s covering all his bases.” She sank back in her seat. “Just seeing us?” she said again, more than half to herself. The news had hit her hard. Jounouchi, too, looked devastated.
Suddenly a voice cut across the café like a knife. “What are YOU doing here?”
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 21, 2012 0:58:30 GMT -5
Otogi looked in the direction of the voice and saw an unfamiliar woman, her eyes flared wide open as her face was drawn tight into a furious grimace. She marched directly at Anzu, and so Otogi put two and two together to realize that this was the much spoken of Tsubasa, Yuugi's mother and Anzu's seeming mortal enemy. "I'd specifically refused to allow you anywhere near here, and yet here you are. Are you really that intent on spiting me?"
Anzu slammed her hands down on the table, causing everyone else to flinch back, and Otogi was certainly no exception; as strong willed as Anzu was, Yuugi's mother had a presence equal to if not greater than hers. He dared not get caught in the crossfire, he'd be shot down and bombed into oblivion without even a second thought with the way they were glaring at one another. "You have no right or ability to tell me what I can or can't do, especially when it comes to Yuugi."
"I am his legal guardian, and even if I haven't exercised that power before, that doesn't I don't know how to do so now; if you don't get out of my sight immediately, I will take Yuugi and move him to where you will never find him, and if that still doesn't stop you, I will file a restraining order. After that, you will have to give up." Otogi could hardly believe it, for Anzu and Tsubasa there was no one else in the cafe, just the two of them fighting over Yuugi like some sort of doll or something.
"You can go ahead and try, but you have no idea, no imagination of the things we've been through together, things that would break down your carefully crafted little world into little pieces and laugh at your hubris for thinking that any of it mattered. Move him, make legal threats, I don't care! Yuugi is my friend, he is my oldest, closest and most important friend, and I will not abandon him while he is in trouble, never ever!" Jounouchi stood by Anzu's side in support, but said nothing; though invested in the outcome, this was Anzu's fight.
"Never? Really, you want me to buy that Anzu?" A cruel grin appeared on Tsubasa's face. "You want me to believe that you're being serious about this, that you're not just continuing some game that you started years ago, that you decided to start playing when you saw that my son would believe you?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Despite her words, Anzu's face was giving away her true feelings, dangerous in a blood match like this.
"How often did you choose to go off and do some trivial dance practice or recital or whatever instead of keeping watch over Yuugi? How many times did you decide that your reputation at your little school mattered more than making sure that no one took Yuugi's lunch money? How many times was it that you just couldn't bother to care? I may have left him in his grandfather's care, but I never strung Yuugi along, I never made promises I couldn't keep. That was you, but rather than admit it, you lash out at me to try and make you feel better about yourself, you hypocrite."
"You...bitch." Tears streamed down Anzu's furious expression while a smug expression of victory formed on Tsubasa's face. "You don't know anything, you ran away, you didn't even try, and you want to act like you can judge me, can condemn me for being brave while you were afraid? You, his mother, you abandoned your obligations while I picked up the slack and you want to say that I'M the one treating this like a game? Why didn't you just run off again after you put in those papers? Here, I'll answer my own question, because you're trying to assuage your guilt, even though you know you don't deserve it." Anzu's words had created visible cracks in Tsubasa's mask, and the two women glared, on the defensive and waiting for the chance to make the finishing blow. Otogi looked to Jounouchi, looked to Mokuba, the both of them paralyzed with fear and uncertainty.
Suddenly, all attention was drawn to a clatter on the table as Otogi dropped his dice down. "Listen up you two, because I'm only saying this once and I'm the closest thing there is to an objective party in all this." Now Otogi was subjected to the glares of both women and felt himself withering on the inside. Fortunately, Otogi had nothing if not for his practiced poker face. "You're both being the worst sort of bitches." Otogi was no fan of harsh, degrading language, not towards women at any rate, but he needed the power behind such words to have the impact he needed. "You are ripping each other apart, tearing into every little flaw or weakness and leaving nothing behind, excoriating yourselves over nothing at all, because if you'd take even half a moment to listen to each other, you'd realize that you're both trying to do what's best for Yuugi. Even people separated by the deepest ideological divides aren't as vicious to one another as you two are being with each other. So why don't you both cut the crap and realize how much alike you really are?" Otogi took his dice back, which had landed with the result of seven, and put them back in his pocket. He waited, he had nothing left to say.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 22, 2012 18:26:25 GMT -5
To say tension crackled in the air would be a heartless understatement. It frothed like storm clouds building fresh lightning. It roiled like ocean waves sucking towards a tsunami. It sizzled like hot fat dripping into a growing fire.
Eventually Anzu scraped back her chair. “I … I have to go call my mom. She’ll be worried about me.” If she meant it as another slight to Yuugi’s mom, it didn’t show in her inflection.
“Wait, Anzu!” Mokuba fumbled in his pocket. “I have a cell phone – you can use that.” He drew out the latest model and hastily passed it to her. “You have to step outside, though. They don’t allow you to switch them on inside.”
“Thank you, Mokuba.” Without looking at any of them, Anzu fled.
Otogi stared at the woman who had apparently given birth to Yuugi, but who shared none of his characteristics. Squinting revealed similar cheekbones, maybe the same nose, but Yuugi obviously took after his dad and grandfather. He and Grandpa Mutou were like peas in a pod. Otogi could never imagine this woman, in her business suit and perfect make-up, fitting in at the Kame Game Shop.
Tsubasa watched Anzu go with an unreadable expression. Her eyes shifted to Mokuba and Jounouchi, but came to rest on Otogi. “I don’t know you.”
“Ryuuji Otogi. I own the Black Clown Game Shop. I also invented Dungeon Dice Monsters.”
“I have no idea what that is,” she said flatly.
Otogi didn’t allow that to take the wind out of his sails. He just shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s an internationally successful game, second only to Duel Monsters and the big RPG games like Dungeons and Dragons and Magic: The Gathering.” He allowed a smirk to filter onto his lips. “And your son royally kicked my ass at it.”
Tsubasa blinked. “I see.”
“Yuugi has a lot of friends, Mrs. Mutou. He’s a well-liked and well-respected guy. Just look around you.” He gestured at the medical facility. “Seto Kaiba wouldn’t pull these kinds of strings for just anyone. Yuugi is important to a lot of people.”
“I know that,” she snapped, turning on her heel. “All of whom seem intent on judging me.” She started to stalk away.
“This is not about you.” Jounouchi’s voice was like a knife. It flew through the air and hit her between her shoulder-blades, causing her back to arch as if in pain. “This is about Yuugi,” Jounouchi went on, still in an oddly flat tone. “We do not judge you for your past actions. Everybody has history they would rather be forgotten. What matters is the future and what you do from this moment onwards. What matters now,” he all but whispered, “is Yuugi and restoring him to the way he was.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“You are punishing yourself and us for the guilt you feel.”
“You’re just a child,” she dismissed him.
“I am not simply a child.” Jounouchi rose to his feet. Otogi was suddenly struck by how tall he was – which was weird, because he was about the same height and it had never bothered him before. “I am Yuugi’s protector.”
Tsubasa Mutou stared him down. “Fine,” she said eventually. “Wait here. I’ll send Sugoroku down with news if any develops. But you are NOT to try to come upstairs and see Yuugi. The doctors said any shock might be detrimental at this stage. I won’t have you making things worse just so you can get one over on Yuugi’s bitch of a mother.”
They watched her go.
“Whoa,” Mokuba said. “That was intense.” He bit his lip. “Maybe I should go check on Anzu. See if she’s all right.” He scurried in the direction she had taken.
Otogi continued to stare at Jounouchi. No doubt about it: something was not right with the guy. Jounouchi stood still as a statue save for his hands, which flexed in and out of fists. Maybe someone else would have chalked it up to worry over his friend, but Otogi suspected there was more to this than met the eye. He leaned across and tugged on the arm of Jounouchi’s tee-shirt. Jounouchi whirled so abruptly that he nearly toppled out of his chair.
“Whoa, dude!”
“I … am sorry,” Jounouchi said awkwardly.
“Don’t worry about it. Sit.”
He eyed the chair as if it might bite him.
Otogi folded his arms. “Okay, stand then, but either way, you have to spill it.”
“Excuse me?”
“What’s your deal, man? You’re acting totally unlike the mutt I know and love to poke fun at.”
Jounouchi frowned. “I do not know what you –”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. ‘Do not know’? You’re acting more formal than the Queen of England – and you haven’t tried to punch me. Not once. Not even a shirt-grab so you can threaten to visit unholy pain upon me later. Would it help if I insulted your family? You have a sister, right? Should I call her fat? Would that make you act normal again? Or is it you who’s got amnesia? Because that’s the only plausible explanation I can come up with unless you tell me different.”
Jounouchi shook his head. “I need to visit … the … facilities.”
“Dude, just call it a bathroom.”
Finally, Otogi looked around. He was totally alone in the café and people were still staring at him in the aftermath of Anzu and Tsubasa’s screaming match. Wonderful.
“And to think I thought today was going to be boring.”
….
The spirit was worried. More and more, shadows clawed at the edges of his vision. He stumbled through the swinging door into the restroom and braced his hands on a washbasin. His arms trembled a little.
Was this because he was in a different body? He felt so weak. Pushing back his own dark magic felt like an effort where it never had before. Had Yuugi really been that instrumental in keeping that side of him under control?
“Hey, buddy, are you okay?”
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 22, 2012 19:18:40 GMT -5
The spirit turned towards the voice and saw a man he didn't recognize emerging from a stall; he was wearing scrubs, probably a medical student or the like. It was hard to be sure, the shadows made everything look just a bit fuzzy, an increasing sign that he would have to end this desperate gambit and soon, lest he damage himself and Jounouchi's body. Then he realized the man was still waiting for a response. "Nothing that some well deserved rest won't fix."
"Ah, insomnia." The man nodded in a self-congratulatory fashion. "I had that when I was studying for finals last year; trust me, not being able to sleep is not nearly the study aid you'd think it was, but you know that perfectly well, don't you?" The man smiled the way he nodded, self-involved. The spirit figured he barely registered to the other man as something real, independent. "Well, I can't do anything about your troubles, not without an appointment, but Rozerem did the trick for me, so maybe you bring that up with your doctor, hmm?" The man hummed as he washed his hands and left.
"Insomnia..." The spirit looked at the state of Jounouchi's body in the mirror; he really did look like he hadn't slept at all the previous night, and this night would likely be no different. "I have to act, I have to find some way to just see Yuugi...wait." A hospital like this, a private hospital, Yuugi being at the center of intensive neurological care, there had to be cameras, there had to be footage. If he could just see that much, see his partner resting peacefully and recovering, he could nurse that sight and wait back in the puzzle. "Of course, only the Doctor or Seto could approve that..." Like everything else these past few days, this was not likely to prove easy, but it was his one chance.
....
When Yuugi awoke, he felt...he didn't have the words for it. It was like...something had been squeezing him for so long he'd forgotten all about it, until it finally began to let go. His dreams were much clearer too, he remembered them much better than before, though it was all still jumbled in random orders, effect before cause and all that sort of stuff. He looked up at the digital clock and saw that it would still be another hour before the doctor would come check in on him, so he decided to just sit back and use his imagination to fill his time, following whatever he made up wherever it went.
....
"...Okay, thank you Mom. I'll call back as soon as something happens." Anzu clicked off the cell phone and let out a whimper of a shudder, her eyes still wet. Even though there wasn't much, anything at all really, that her mother could do for her in this situation, her assurances still meant the world to her.
"Anzu." She jerked her head towards the voice and saw that it was Mokuba, who flinched back. "Uh, I'm sorry, I'll, uh..." The boy stammered incoherently, uncertainly, until Anzu put her hand in front of his mouth.
"No, you're fine Mokuba. More than, really, you've been a big help for the past couple of days. Don't think that I or any of the rest of us are ever going to forget this."
"Oh. Um, okay." He was still visibly nervous, one foot unable to keep still. "So, is there anything else I can do? Anything I can get you?"
"That's very kind of you Mokuba, but right now there's only one thing I want."
"Right." His head dropped down at this. In another state of mind, Anzu would have picked up on this, but as was, she did not.
"It's okay Mokuba." She patted him on the head, rustled his hair a bit. "Right now, I just need to re-think things over, what I've been doing and why. If you really want to do something more, you can just stay here with me for a while. I wouldn't mind the company."
"Okay." The two sat down on the nearby bench and looked out into the parking lot, thinking.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 23, 2012 6:00:42 GMT -5
Mokuba chanced a glance at Anzu. Her face was wracked with so many emotions he couldn’t put names to them all. She didn’t say anything, but what started as awkward silence eventually became a comfortable rhythm of listening to her breathing. Seto would be aghast to hear him think like that, but Mokuba couldn’t help the simple comfort he got from giving simple comfort to someone else.
“My mom and I,” Anzu said suddenly, “we fight sometimes, y’know? But we always make up, and I’ve never once questioned whether she loves me. My dad left us when I was still in elementary school. He lives in New York now. He visits sometimes, and I’ve been to see him a couple of times, but mostly it’s just been me and my mom. We’re pretty close – or as close as we can be, since I keep all this magic stuff from her.” She gave a short, humourless laugh. “She has always put me first. Always. Even when my dad left, and she was devastated, she put me first. I guess that’s one of the reasons why I can’t forgive Yuugi’s mom for leaving him. I mean, I get that his situation was much more serious – his dad died – but she still should’ve been there for Yuugi somehow. More than she was. Or has been. She’s been back a few times since she moved to Tokyo. Every single time, I’ve watched Yuugi get excited, thinking she’s going to move home for good, and it rips him apart when she goes back. Do you know she’s never apologised? Not once. Yuugi is the sweetest, kindest, most caring guy I know. He doesn’t deserve to be disappointed and hurt like that; not by his own mother.”
Mokuba listened quietly. Anzu stopped, apparently lost in thought again. Tentatively, he asked, “Doesn’t she deserve a second chance? I saw her with Yuugi today. She seems like she really cares about him.”
“She’s had a second chance. And a third. And a seventeenth. And a hundredth.” Anzu sighed. “Otogi’s right; I was acting like a colossal bitch, but the problem is that I can see it happening again. She’ll make all the right noises, pretend like this time will be different, and then leave. And this time, with Yuugi the way he is, Grandpa Mutou won’t be able to cope alone. Yuugi won’t be able to cope. Or maybe he will. Maybe he’ll forget all about her the morning after she leaves. Maybe that’d be best.” She dropped her chin onto her chest.
“You don’t mean that.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t. I just …” She drew a trembling breath. “I just want him back, Mokuba. I want Yuugi back.”
“We all do, Anzu.”
She shook her head again. “I did it all wrong,” she said brokenly, and he got the feeling she was only half-talking to him now. “Everything. I screwed it all up, and now I’ll never get a second chance. He doesn’t remember any of it – nothing – but I do and it HURTS. I just … just …” She put her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I hate her, I love him, but they’re neither of them how I thought anymore. She’s here, and she seems to CARE, and he’s so lost and confused and … and …” Her words dissolved into uncontrollable sobs.
Unable to think what else to do, Mokuba shuffled closer, laid his hand on her back and rubbed awkwardly as she cried herself out.
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 23, 2012 12:04:53 GMT -5
"Entirely too easy." Bakura, the spirit of the ring, muttered to himself as he slipped into the hospital through through the rear entrance. He took a look down at the ring, "Heading up, eh?", and continued to maneuver sight unseen, a talent possessed both by the spirit and the body, doubly effective when brought together. The scent of death's defiance was all over the place, hardly one he disapproved of; after all, he was a spirit who'd clung to the material world for three thousand years, even when banished to the darkness he would always return, these people were not so different from him.
"Excuse me, young man?" An ancient-looking woman with a walker spoke to him, having somehow managed to notice him. "Could you help me with the elevator to the third floor?" Instantly the spirit could tell that this would involve more than just pushing the damn button and leaving her be; she would expect an escort, someone to lend an ear. Any attempt at disengaging would only draw more attention than otherwise.
"All right landlord, your turn." And so the spirit took Ryou Bakura and forced him back into his own body as he himself sat and contemplated.
....
It had taken hours, going over every damn detail in exacting detail, but that was the sort of interrogation one could expect when your dad was a cop. "All right Hiroto, you can go."
"Really?" Sure, he'd cobbled up some stories to cover up the gaps where all the freaky magic had gone on, but he didn't figure they'd work on his old man. "You sure you're my dad? 'Cause his bad cop routine was way tougher than that."
"You sure you want to go down that road son? You really think you want all the holes in your story pried wide open for all the world to see?" The man took out what looked like a cigarette, but contained no nicotine or tobacco or anything else of the sort; he'd quit years earlier, yet he enjoyed the image created by smoking cop, so there it was. "I read between the lines, and I've seen things when I was your age, real freaky things; no way I'd tell my old man about those, why would my son be any different."
"Well, thanks dad." Hiroto Honda stood there with his father for a moment, and then they both turned away from one another simultaneously. "Now to figure out what's been going on since then." Honda took out his cell phone and started dialing.
....
"Tsubasa, what happened? Something did, that much is obvious." Sugoroku had seen plenty of people who looked the way his daughter-in-law did, emotionally bloody and scarred.
"...Yuugi's friends came, apparently they've got another rich gamer they can call up on speed dial."
"They're here?" Sugoroku had to suppress his joy at knowing that they'd made it in spite of all the obstacles placed before them, not least because those obstacles had been placed down by Tsubasa herself. "Well, that explains part of it."
"They all tore into me, and I tore into them, then the rich boy, Otogi, held a mirror up to the both of us, me and Anzu...they're children, Sugoroku, they shouldn't be able to say things like that, say things like that and mean it, understand it, feel all the weight of their words like that. What is wrong with this world that its forcing them to grow up so damn quickly."
"Oh, that?" Sugoroku put a supportive hand on Tsubasa's shoulder. "That's nothing new, even when I was a kid people were always going on about the youth of the day and how corrupted they were and forced to grow up too quickly and what was to become of society. That's how its always been and likely always will be. You've just got to roll with it, there's no other way to survive it."
"I see."
"Tsubasa, Sugoroku, I have some good news for you." Dr. Ku-Ku walked in, an open smile on his face.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 24, 2012 11:41:26 GMT -5
“Yuugi’s regained his memory?” Hope shone in Sugoroku’s face.
Dr. Ku-Ku’s smile vanished. “No, I’m afraid not. However!” The smile reappeared. “He woke up.”
“You were expecting him not to?” Tsubasa asked sharply. She rubbed discreetly at the smeared mascara under her eyes, but that didn’t diminish her glare.
“I’m not explaining myself clearly enough.” He waved a dismissive hand. “He woke up and remembered falling asleep. He remembers all of the past day since he last slept. Given the pattern he registered so far, sleep seems to be his reset button. If he sleeps, he forgets the new memories he made.”
“Except not this time.” Sugoroku tried not to get his hopes up, but it was hard.
“Not this time, no. That’s an encouraging sign.”
“So we have to keep going like this?” Tsubasa asked. “Just keeping him separated and bedbound? For how long?”
A small, still-bitter part of Sugoroku wanted to ask whether she was worried about her job, but he squashed it. It was cruel and unnecessary, as her tears proved. Still, part of him wanted to hold on to his bitterness. He had spent years warring within himself, resenting her for leaving but loving her son so much that he couldn’t imagine life without him. If Yuugi hadn’t been in his world, Sugoroku’s life would have been a lonely one, filled with memories he couldn’t let go and stories of adventures with nobody to tell them to. He couldn’t resent her for that, even if she had also hurt Yuugi more than any bully ever had. It was a dichotomy he didn’t relish or like to think about, and one that had been brought home to him in the last few days.
“I think that’d be advisable for now,” said Dr. Ku-Ku. “Obviously it’s not a permanent solution, but I’d like to keep Yuugi in for observation for at least tonight and tomorrow, probably more.”
“Then I’m staying too,” Tsubasa said resolutely.
“We’re staying too,” Sugoroku corrected. “We’re family, Tsubasa. That means we’re in this together.”
After a moment she nodded stiffly.
“What about Yuugi’s friends?” he asked.
“What about them?” Still that sharpness, now masking embarrassment and pain as well as guilt.
“When will they be allowed to see him?” Sugoroku directed the question at Dr. Ku-Ku.
“For now, we’ll keep his visitors limited to those on the safe list. We can reassess in the morning, but unless Yuugi knew them before the time his memories ended, I’d advise keeping them away from him in case they inhibit his progress.”
“I’ll tell them,” Sugoroku said carefully. “Where did you see them, Tsubasa?”
She waved glibly at the door. “Downstairs in the café.”
“I did wonder why you went for sandwiches and came back empty-handed.” Sugoroku rubbed his belly and gave her an encouraging smile. “How about I rustle up some food for us both while you stay here?” He nodded at the observation room, which shared a one-way mirror and several camera feeds with the room Yuugi had been moved to. Perhaps he could convince her to let Yuugi’s friends see him through that; but for now, he decided not to chance it. Tsubasa needed to stew over what had happened and come to a decision about Yuugi’s friends on her own. If he tried to force the issue she might clam up and ostracise them completely. Right now there was a chance she would soften enough to allow them at least that much access.
His daughter-in-law was a very complicated woman, he thought as he thanked the doctor and excused himself. Before he made it to the corridor he heard Tsubasa’s heels click into the observation room and the door shut behind her.
….
The spirit of the Puzzle wheezed behind a tall trolley of folded quilts. The porters had left it here briefly while they went to make up some beds. The wire mesh keeping the quilts contained allowed him to hook his fingers through as support. His muscles felt stretched and trembly, but he refused to give up just yet. Jounouchi could have his body back soon, but not until he had found Yuugi and made sure he was … not okay, but at least still alive and in no immediate danger of vanishing into the mental mists.
When the porters appeared at the door of a nearby room, he slipped away. He had lost the fluidity of movement that had taken hours to attain. Now he was back to moving jerkily, like a puppet whose strings were getting steadily more tangled. It didn’t help that he kept focussing inward, trying to seek out some echo of his Aibou through which to locate him.
We can help, the shadows whispered without words. We can find him for you. We can go anywhere, if you’ll only let us out. You used to let us out all the time. We hated it when you stopped. We hate being contained. Please let us out. Let us out and we’ll find the one you want.
He shook his head, knowing that if he did the shadows would run rampant. When he was little more than Yuugi’s hidden guardian, a mindless drone committed to protecting its host, he had thought nothing of unleashing terrible magical fates on those who hurt Yuugi. Now he had a mind of his own and had learned from Yuugi that his old approach wasn’t the right one. He couldn’t just hurt people arbitrarily to get what he wanted.
The temptation was strong, though. Somewhere in this facility Yuugi waited for him. He had to find him. He had to –
A familiar white-haired boy walked past. He was holding the arm of an old woman and didn’t appear to notice the spirit. In fact, he looked thoroughly confused and kept looking around like he had never seen the inside of this place before. The woman dragged him on, and the spirit got the impression that if she hadn’t, Bakura would have stopped in his tracks.
What on earth was HE doing here?
During one of these looks his eye did land on the spirit and he broke into a grateful smile. “Jounouchi!”
The spirit sucked in a breath. “Ba … kura …”
Bakura’s expression switched to one of concern. “Are you all right?”
The shadows shivered. They recognised this boy, this dark, delicious boy. The magic quaked through the spirit’s bones and ran up and down his nerve endings. He was fast reaching his limit and would have to either relinquish Jounouchi’s body and drag the magic back into the Puzzle with him, or let it run wild and free like it wanted.
“You look really ill.” Bakura’s curious British accent lent extra worry to his words. “Excuse me, Mrs. Ishida, but my friend doesn’t look so good. Didn’t you say your room is nearby?”
“Just over here, sonny.” She gestured and he led her over.
Seconds later Bakura re-emerged and hurried to the spirit’s side. “Please don’t misunderstand me or think I’m insulting you, but you look bloody awful.”
“Got to … get to … Yuugi …”
“He’s here?” Bakura blinked. “Mrs. Ishida said this is Kaiba’s medical facility. Actually, she said a lot, but I tuned a lot of it out. Jounouchi, are you injured?” He started to check for wounds. “What’s the matter with you?”
Let us out! the shadows clamoured. We can taste him. We know him. He is us and we are him. Dark, delicious boy. Want! WANT!
The spirit held his head. It was no use; he was going to have to retreat. If only he could have seen Yuugi first. His mind filled with such a strong desire to see his aibou that it drowned out everything else.
Something jolted through him like lightning. It left a greasy, slippery aftershock. He looked down to see a single shadow pushing out of the Puzzle. His eyes widened. Abruptly, he shoved Bakura away. The smaller boy fell backwards and stared up at him. His eyes fixed on the Puzzle around his neck.
“Why do you have –” Suddenly he clutched at his own head. A small, thin noise filled the air; a hybrid of a scream and a sob. Bakura’s fingers clenched in his hair.
The spirit was more concerned with the breach in his defences. He reached for the shadow with hands and mind, but it spiralled away. More battered their way free. The dark magic he had kept in check for so long had finally worn him down in this body.
In a rush, they swirled towards the defenceless Bakura.
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 24, 2012 12:48:06 GMT -5
"Not even five minutes." The spirit of the Ring gripped the slimy, wriggly shadow before it could do any further damage to his landlord. "Still, this isn't that bad." He gripped the shadow tight, that stray bundle of negative energy and impulses, and absorbed it into his being. "Yes, the King has certainly provided his servant with a suitable gift. Remember this, landlord, I protected you." He did not bother letting the boy respond, he shut him away deep inside himself while he focused outward, down at the dazed and confused Jounouchi. "Hmm, so you were desperate enough to try something like this." A good object lesson, don't try to work with a host that the item didn't choose.
"Ugh, Bakura?" Jounouchi looked at him, making a dozen grimacing faces as he worked every muscle he could. "I feel like I was run over by a freight train, carrying an aircraft carrier." Even at the best of times, the fools couldn't tell the difference between him and his host when he didn't want them to. As he was now, Jounouchi wouldn't be able to tell even if he were out in the open.
"This situation with Yuugi's been hard on us all." Him most of all, for derailing everything. "Why don't we go see if we can visit Yuugi? I'm sure he's somewhere on the top floor."
"Seein Yuug...yeah, that sounds like a good idea." It would probably be days before he'd recover; so weak, no wonder none of the items chose him.
....
"So, did you have a good cry Anzu?" Otogi watched her and Mokuba return to the cafe; Anzu's makeup was ruined, Mokuba looked like he'd been shaken for an hour.
"Yeah, I did." Anzu slumped down back in her seat, looking like she'd gone fifteen rounds against herself. "Honda called, Mokuba explained what was going on."
"I offered to send him a limo over, but he said he'd rather use his new motorcycle. He probably won't get her until nightfall, but I'll make sure he, and the rest of you guys, have a room you can sleep in."
"Yep, looks like we're going to be in here for the long haul."
"But hopefully not too much longer." Sugoroku appeared from around the corner and took the remaining seat. "Where's Jounouchi?"
"He wasn't looking good, went to the bathroom, but that was a while ago. I should probably check on him." Truthfully, Otogi was grateful for a chance to get back on his feet.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 24, 2012 22:40:54 GMT -5
Otogi paused, hands still braced on the table. “Any news?”
Sugoroku filled them in on the latest development.
“That’s wonderful,” Anzu said tiredly.
“Really great,” Mokuba agreed. “Has anyone told Seto?”
“Is he still here?” She turned questioning eyes on him. “I would’ve thought some big business thingy would have called him back to Kaiba Corp by now.”
“It may not seem like it sometimes, but Seto knows how to prioritise. He wouldn’t just leave at a time like this.” Mokuba looked up, as if he could use x-ray vision to stare through the ceiling and find his brother. “Although he’s probably someplace private fine-tuning the Battle City plans.”
“Battle City?” Anzu echoed. “What’s that?”
Sugoroku was staring at Mokuba was an odd expression. When Otogi caught his eye he shrugged apologetically. “I was just thinking about something someone said about you kids growing up too fast.”
Otogi excused himself and went in search of the bathroom.
….
The spirit of the ring supported Jounouchi as he stumbled down the corridor. Jounouchi was pretty out of it. His brain wasn’t fried, exactly, but it was pushing the farthest boundaries of exhaustion. It was difficult, playing host to a second soul when fate hadn’t marked you for the task. The spirit wondered if it could dump him somewhere, but realised in the same instant that this hulking lump of a boy might be his key to getting in to see the Pharaoh’s true vessel. Bakura wasn’t a close enough friend to gain the same privileges as the rest of that group. It was much more likely Jounouchi would be allowed access.
The Millennium Puzzle held a magical afterglow invisible to the naked eye. Through the piece of his soul embedded in it, and now also through the dark magic he had taken into himself, the spirit could feel the Pharaoh marshalling the forces that had nearly slipped his control. The incident had unnerved and drained him.
“Excuse me,” the spirit said to a passing man in a white coat,” but could you tell me where we could find Yuugi Mutou?”
The man eyed them suspiciously. “And who might you be?”
“We’re his friends, sir.” The spirit tapped into Bakura’s natural charm and focussed his best polite smile on the man. Adults in this time loved that kind of deferential idiocy. “My name is Ryou Bakura and this is Katsuya Jounouchi.”
“Oh you are, are you?” The man didn’t seem convinced. “Well I’m afraid that, friends or not, your names aren’t on the safe list of people Yuugi is allowed to see. Not tonight, at any rate,” he added thoughtfully. “Come back tomorrow and we’ll see then.”
“Are you Yuugi’s physician?” The spirit squinted at the man’s name tag. “Dr. Ku-Ku?”
“I am, and that’s what gives me the authority to say you boys she turn around and head back downstairs. I don’t know how you got this far, but –” He stopped as the spirit reached out with his free hand, the other still hooked around Jounouchi with surprising strength, and gripped him by his shirtfront. He pulled the doctor close and stared deep into his wide eyes.
“You will let us through,” he said, quietly and certainly. Tendrils of magic uncurled around his words like deadly flowers blossoming along thorny vines. Compulsion soaked every syllable.
After a moment, the doctor’s eyes became blank. The spirit released him and he turned away, walking towards a door with a keypad to which he presumably had the code.
The spirit smiled in a way nobody could have mistaken for Ryou Bakura. These modern men were so feeble-minded it was almost embarrassing how simple it was to manipulate them.
“Mrrf, Bakura,” Jounouchi mumbled, eyes closed. “Thank m’ gonna … throw up …”
“Oh dear.” Back to the polite little nobody. “Come along, Jounouchi. I’m sure there will be facilities somewhere along here that you can use. Alternatively, those pot plants are remarkably ugly anyway…”
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 24, 2012 23:51:14 GMT -5
Jounouchi didn't like having to use the potted plant for vomiting, partly because he knew Seto was going to hold that against him somehow, but mostly it made him think of the sort of thing his father would be doing; he couldn't bring himself to hate the guy, but like hell he was going to turn out anything like him. "So this is the observation room, is it?" Bakura looked through the one-way mirror at Yuugi intently, he'd probably do the same thing if his head were on straight. Jounouchi held the puzzle in his hands and looked at Yuugi's peaceful form as best he could. "I know you can't see it buddy, but regular Yuugi is okay, at least he looks that way. Oh, and If you can hear me in there, please don't do that again." For a moment Jounouchi's head threatened to split in half. "'cause as is, I'm going to have to slug you next chance I get."
....
"All right, this is all I can do for now." Seto Kaiba stood up from his laptop and closed it, his mind bleary. Yes, even he could exhaust his considerable mental faculties, though extenuating circumstances were typically to blame, like the uncertain fate of the centerpiece of Battle City itself. Speaking of, he decided to press down on the intercom. "Dr. Ku-Ku, do you have anything to report on Yuugi's condition?" There was a delay, there should not have been a delay. "Mr. Kaiba, progress is being made, but I would like to wait until tomorrow morning before deciding whether to advance to the next stage."
"Fine." Seto rubbed at his head, looked at the clock; normally he did not mind working as late as this, but again, this was not a normal day for him. "I haven't seen Mokuba for a while." He wasn't worried of course, but he did want to see him anyway. He got out of his office, made his way down the hallway, and encountered someone; it was a woman with a weary expression on her face. "You are?"
"Tsubasa Mutou. You are Seto Kaiba, correct?" Her poise and posture bespoke someone more used to business etiquette than casual. How curious for a woman who was supposed to be Yuugi's mother.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 25, 2012 7:59:29 GMT -5
"The name is Tsubasa Mutou. We met briefly when you brought my son here. You’re Seto Kaiba, correct?" Her poise and posture bespoke someone more used to business etiquette than casual. How curious for a woman who was supposed to be Yuugi's mother. Where he was all softness and kindness, she was hard edges and strong chin. The only mitigating thing about her was her smudged make-up.
“Why bother asking questions you already know the answers to?” he replied caustically. “What do you want? And how did you even get into this area? This is for myself and staff only.”
“Your security is below-par. You have someone guarding the private elevator but not the stairs.”
Seto cursed. “That still doesn’t tell me what you wanted. You obviously want something, if you came looking specifically for me.”
“The room Yuugi is in. I overhead one of the nurses talking. She said it was yours after your duel with my son – the one where you gave my father-in-law a heart attack.” Her eyes were steely. “Doctors monitored your condition day and night from the observation room. You were catatonic. They thought you’d never recover.”
“I got better,” he deadpanned, not even hinting at the confusion he had felt when he came to and found himself wasted, bedbound and covered in tubes.
“They didn’t expect you to survive, but you did. It was a miracle.” She continued to stare at him. “Apparently.”
Seto didn’t wince. He did feel regret, but it didn’t stab at him the way it probably should have. That entire incident and all that followed had not been his finest hour. Years of fighting to make people take him seriously as CEO of Kaiba Corp, despite his age, plus school and the responsibility of ensuring his brother’s welfare and happiness, had left Seto with a warped sense of priority. Seeing Sugoroku Mutou’s Blue Eyes White Dragon card had tipped him over the edge of a precipice he had been balancing on for a long time. He had only vague recollections of what had happened after the duel itself. He had been told he was in a catatonic, near-coma state caused by stress and the psychological damage brought on by losing to Yuugi when he had never lost anything before in his life. After Gozaburo died, Seto had put himself on a pedestal to force people to look up to him. It had been a long way to fall.
“Your point being?” he said to Tsubasa Mutou now.
“You’re very young to be a CEO. It’s an incredibly stressful job.”
“Very observant of you. I’ll call the newspapers with the exclusive.”
She folded her arms. “I work in business, Mr. Kaiba. This is not normal for a teenage boy.”
This time he didn’t even bother to respond. He just stared at her, as if he could make her vanish with his eyes alone.
“Why?” she asked at last.
“Why what?”
“Why have you sacrificed your childhood like this? You already had a warning shot – didn’t that make you want a normal life? Why have you continued as CEO instead of going out and living the way you were meant to?”
He snorted. “I’m finally starting to see some resemblance between you and Yuugi. He’s a melodramatic little do-gooder who thinks he knows it all too.”
“Then why have you bothered to do all this for him if you don’t even like him?”
“Because while I might not like him, I do respect him. He has a level of skill unparalleled in the world of Duel Monsters.”
“You’ve done all this for him because of a card game?” she said in disbelief.
He sighed, thoroughly irritated. “Is there a point to this conversation? Because I have things to do and you have a son you probably want to watch sleep some more.”
Her brows pulled together even more. “I don’t understand any of you people.” The hand she waved encompassed him, the entire facility, and whoever else happened to be in it. “You stole from an old man and endangered his health over this card game. In the throes of some major breakdown that shouldn’t hit anyone unless they’re at least double your age, you involved my son in some pretty scheme to tear up a piece of glorified cardboard and damaged your own health so thoroughly you had to disappeared from the public eye while you recovered. Now you’re back to working yourself into an early grave, and spending thousands upon thousands of yen to help him after some freak accident you weren’t even involved in, and you expect me to believe you’re again doing it because of this ‘Duel Monsters’ game?”
“Goodbye, Mrs. Mutou.” Seto swept past her. “You know the way back to Yuugi’s room from here. If not, you’re an intelligent woman; you can figure it out.”
“No.” She stepped in front of him. “No! I don’t accept this. You’re a child!”
He paused, if only to treat her to his most scathing glare yet. “I can assure you, I’m not just anything, especially not a child.”
“How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?”
He didn’t reply.
“You’re supposed to be in school, going to class, falling in love for the first time – not running a multinational company and playing parent to someone only a few years young than you.”
“Leave Mokuba out of this,” Seto snapped, though he wasn’t sure why. Something in her words or tone struck a chord in him that hadn’t reverberated for a very long time. He shook it off and tried to get past her, but again she blocked his path. “Mrs. Mutou, either step aside or I will call security.”
“What is my son to you?”
“He is my greatest rival.”
“Bullshit!”
“Expletives will not bring further understanding. If you don’t understand the situation, that’s your problem. Your son is important to me for his skill and as a hurdle I must overcome. He defeated me once. He won’t do so again.”
“You’re insane. You’re talking like this is a war or some stupid movie! This is real life!”
“Believe me, Mrs. Mutou; I know that better than most. And the thing about real life is that it isn’t predictable. It doesn’t always make sense and it isn’t controllable, no matter how much you wish it to be or how hard you try to make it so.” He thought back once more to his behaviour when Gozaburo came to the orphanage and just after death. He had tried to micromanage everything and it had put him in the hospital where he couldn’t control anything at all; not even his own body. The thought of nurses cleaning him, feeding him, washing him, while Mokuba was forced to see his Big Brother in such a weak, pathetic state – it made him shudder and wish he had fired the entire staff and started over afterwards. “Real life is messy and goes beyond whatever rules you think it should follow. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can get whatever peace you’re apparently lacking and move on.”
This time when he shoved past her, she didn’t try to stop him. He saw that her hands were clenched into fists so hard her knuckles had turned white.
A voice that sounded very like Mokuba’s echoed in his mind: You’re being cruel. She is a mother worried about her son. Seto remembered his own mother only as a series of snapshots that could have been from any commercial on TV. He couldn’t even recall what her voice sounded like anymore.
Sighing savagely, he held the door open for her. “I’m not on the safe list, but I’ll walk you back to where you need to be.”
She looked like she might refuse, but finally nodded and walked straight-backed ahead of him.
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 25, 2012 13:17:00 GMT -5
There was an awkward silence when Seto Kaiba opened the door to the observation room as he stared at Jounouchi, who himself attempted the same; the green around his gills ruined the effect. Oddly enough, Jounouchi spoke first. "Dude, don't even start."
"Don't worry, I won't; I am not in the mood to humiliate you and put you in your place. Just get out; the interesting stuff won't even be starting until the morning at the earliest." It was easy to see why Kaiba didn't bother; Jounouchi just slumped his way towards the door, not putting up a fight at all. What use was an enemy who didn't fight back for someone who enjoyed battle for its own sake?
"Here Jounouchi, you should have some of this." Tsubasa reached down into her purse and produced a small bottle of pills. "It's over-the-counter, but it should help." Jounouchi looked quizzically at her, at the pills, and back to her again.
"Ain't gonna look a gift horse in the mouth." He took the bottle and left in search of some water to take with it, along with Kaiba and Tsubasa.
"Good, he left early." Bakura said to himself, cloaked within layers of shadows. "Now, to keep my watch over the vessel vigilant."
....
"Jounouchi, Otogi, this is where you guys are going to be staying." Mokuba indicated a moderately sized room with a pair of beds. There was a pair of TVs and plenty of magazines, and even a few toys.
"Thanks little dude, if your story weren't so well known, I'd think you weren't really related to your brother at all."
"I can insist that you sleep outside, if that would be more to your taste." Seto glared at Otogi.
"Generous, but I'll take the soft bed all the same." Otogi flopped down onto one of the beds, then got a quizzical expression on his face. "This mattress is hard."
"It is a hospital mattress."
"So long as it isn't the floor, I'm fine." Jounouchi mumbled, only barely awake. He walked, flopped down onto the bed, and immediately started snoring.
"Right." Mokuba gulped, knowing this was not likely going to be easy. "Anzu, Mrs. Mutou, I'm afraid that...that you two are going to need to share the next room." Mokuba waved his arm towards the room in question, just the next door over.
A pregnant pause, and then Mrs. Mutou spoke. "If that is so, then there is no choice." Mrs. Mutou entered the room without even a glance at her roommate.
"It's okay Mokuba, I'll manage somehow." She gripped his shoulder, making his whole body tingle. Then she raised herself to look Seto in the eye. "Seto...thank you for funding all this." She then took off for the room as well, shutting it behind her before Seto could even respond.
"Come on Mokuba, I've already purchased rooms at the most expensive hotel in Checker City." It took Mokuba a moment to register his brother's words, but he did, and he followed, only glancing behind once or twice.
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Post by Scribbler on Jan 29, 2012 10:28:50 GMT -5
Mokuba kept looking out of the window. Eventually Seto felt compelled to say something.
“Mokuba, they will be fine.”
“Sorry Seto.”
“Don’t apologise.”
“Sor- um …” Mokuba hunkered down in his seat. “You really think everything will be okay?”
Seto didn’t respond. He didn’t believe in lying to his little brother, which sgarcoating the truth surely was, but Mokuba’s pain was evident. He actually cared about those morons and their overly complicated personal lives.
“Big Brother?”
“We’re here.”
“Oh.” Mokuba looked at his intertwined fingers in his lap. “I hope Anzu and Mrs. Mutou get along all right.”
From what he had seen of Yuugi’s mother and what he knew of Anzu Mazaki, Seto doubted that.
….
Honda leaned forward against the wind. The sky promised rain. Checker City was still an hour away at the very least, after his mother had cornered him on his way to the garage. His father, the big tough scary cop, had made himself scarce in the face of his wife’s wrath.
“Mom,” Honda had protested, “Yuugi’s one of my best friends!”
“I don’t care, Hiroto. You’re not riding that death-trap.”
“It’s perfectly safe.”
“Yeah,” Hatsu had snorted from the doorway, baby perched on her hip and bottle shoved into its mouth. His sister had to make her own entertainment these days; unfortunately, stirring up arguments amongst other people seemed to be her favourite. “Cousin Hakumo can ALWAYS be trusted.”
“You bought that thing from HAKUMO!?”
Honda had glared at Hatsu, silently promising to get back at her somehow and mentally cataloguing whether you could rig up a bucket of soiled diapers over a door the way you could a bucket of water. “Dad said it was okay!”
“I’ll bet he did. No, no, I’m sorry, Hiroto. I’ll drive you over to Checker City when I can, but that motorcycle is strictly off-limits.”
“And when can you drive me?”
“I’m at work at the cake shop tomorrow, so …” She thought about it. “Saturday.”
“But that’s too long! Yuugi needs me there now!”
“He has his grandfather and mother with him, you said. He doesn’t need you as well.”
“But … but mom!” Honda had been flummoxed. He had thought that after getting past his father, he would be home free. Instead, he was home-bound.
“Not buts, Hiroto! Now go upstairs and do your homework. I said NOW, young man! Your father may have chosen to forgive you for skipping school, but I expect double the effort in your studies, or you’ll never get into a good college!”
A plume of foul exhausted from a beat-up old truck blasted into his face. In retrospect, maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to climb out of his bedroom window, shimmy down the drainpipe, squeeze through the garage skylight and wheel his bike down to the end of their street so nobody would hear him kick it to life. Ingenious, sure. Devious, of course. But smart? He chose not to think what punishment his mother would concoct. Their grandmother lived with them and had a wicked imagination when it came to that sort of thing. Between them and Hatsu, he had better enjoy his freedom while he could, because he may not see daylight again for a while.
“Don’t worry, guys,” he muttered to the inside of his helmet. “I’m coming.”
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Post by cypsiman2 on Jan 29, 2012 13:10:50 GMT -5
Anzu and Tsubasa had attempted to distract themselves with various magazines for half an hour, but eventually the tension had mounted to the point where it had to be addressed. Tsubasa was first to do so. "Anzu, why did you do it? Why did you reach out to my son? He wasn't a member of your social circle, so why?"
"Now you want to ask, instead of just throwing accusations at me?" There was no power, no venom behind her words. "We were assigned to work on a class project together, something about The Tempest, I don't know, and I just...I was at a crossroads, with a great big sign in the middle and everything; go one way and I stay the popular girl who hung out with the right crowd and would have all the right connections and everything, and the other, I was with someone who wouldn't care about any of that stuff, who just wanted to be able to have fun and was more worried about getting me an easier game to play than the fact that I'd just broken his gameboy, back when those were brand new and expensive to boot. I made my choice, but as you know I did a sucky job of sticking to it."
"Maybe I was being arrogant, maybe I was making promises I couldn't ever keep no matter how hard I tried, or maybe I was just making excuses, I don't know. I just...so long as he doesn't remember any of it, I can't ever fix my mistakes and if I can't do that..."
"...Anzu, how old are you? When is your birthday?"
"I'm sixteen, I'll be turning seventeen August eighteen."
"You're younger than him, only by a few months, but younger than him all the same; you're just like that Seto boy, taking on too much responsibility at too young an age, not living the way a teenager is supposed to. Girl's your age are supposed to be worried about fashion and whether that cute upperclassmen will ever like them back or not, not...all this."
"Honestly, I've never been all that great at sticking to what I've been told to do." Somehow, the atmosphere between the two was lightening up. "And trust me, there were a lot of voices telling me to stay away from Yuugi."
"And despite everything, and that is a lot, I'm actually glad that you didn't listen." Progress, of a sort.
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Post by Scribbler on Feb 1, 2012 10:20:09 GMT -5
“That’s a first,” Anzu mumbled.
Tsubasa was silent for a long moment. Eventually she spoke again, but her voice was hushed, her tone strained. “I … don’t disapprove of your friendship with my son.”
Anzu resisted the urge to snort: Oh, he’s your son now? You were willing to forget that for a long time. Instead she held her tongue and let Tsubasa go on. Silence was a great catalyst for the baring of souls.
“I have been … unfair to you, Anzu. I think, perhaps …” She drew a breath. “Perhaps because I was … jealous. Your relationship with Yuugi is … has always been … for lack of a better word, ‘pure’.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t want anything from him. You accept him for who he is, and he does the same in return. There is no artifice; no judgement. Just acceptance. I couldn’t do that. I’m his mother, and I couldn’t accept him for who and what he is after …” She trailed off.
The moment balanced on a knife edge. It felt like the entire world was waiting to see what happened next. Involuntarily, Anzu even held her breath, as if her body was scared to move in case it sent them ricocheting back into screaming obscenities at each other.
“You know the story about the accident, don’t you?” Tsubasa asked. It was a rhetorical question, since she went on, “You know that I was driving. What you probably don’t know is that I had … we had been to a party at a friend’s house. There was alcohol there. Isamu and I had agreed that I would drive there and he would drive back, but someone spiked his drink. We should’ve called a cab. I insisted I was fine to drive even though I’d had a few glasses.” She shut her eyes. “I wasn’t over the legal limit, but I have never forgiven myself for what happened. Yuugi looks … he is almost the spitting image of his father. I look at him, at the man he’s becoming, and I see Isamu in almost everything. The way Yuugi says your name, Anzu, is the way Isamu used to say mine …”
Anzu’s breath caught in her throat.
“In the beginning … it was unforgivable of me, but the pain was too much. I blamed myself for what had happened. Being with Yuugi was like fate was mocking me for what I’d lost – no, what I’d thrown away through my own bad decisions. When the car went over the embankment, I was thrown free. I shattered my knee and some ribs, but it was a miracle I survived. Isamu was trapped in the car. A piece of metal came through the dashboard and …” Tsubasa shook her head, reliving that night behind her closed lids. “I crawled to the wreck. I thought, if I just held onto his hand, I could pull him out, but he was … impaled. I kept holding his hand until the end. One night after I came home from the hospital, Yuugi came and sat next to me on the couch. I was crying, so he tried to hold my hand to make me feel better. He was a child. It was a sweet idea; but when I looked down, all I could see was Isamu in that car, and I … reacted badly. I slapped Yuugi.”
An hour ago, maybe, Anzu would have thought this typical. Now something inside her twisted, not just for Yuugi, but for this woman she had spent so many years hating.
“I left the next day,” Tsubasa finished. “I could claim altruism and say I did it so I wouldn’t hurt him like that again, but it’d be a half-truth. I was frightened of myself, of what I was capable of. Taking myself out of the situation seemed the only solution. I was growing to hate the sight of my own son. I already hated the sight of my father-in-law, because Isamu would never get that old and resemble his father the way he should’ve. No matter what I’ve done, or what you think of me, Anzu, I do love Yuugi. That will never change. That’s why I’m … what I have been … so jealous of you. You fulfil a need I can’t. You’ve been there to support and care for him when I couldn’t. You can express your love for him when I couldn’t. And can’t.” A black-tinted tear slipped from under her lashes. “I don’t remember how. I still see Isamu, so I still hate you for being all that I can’t be. It makes me want to lash out, and since I can’t lash out at Yuugi, I lash out at you and Sugoroku. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’d be insulted if you pretended to forgive me. You’re an honest girl, Anzu. You deserve your relationship with Yuugi. I don’t. Not anymore.”
Anzu didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to think. Her mind shrieked with a thousand responses, but not one seemed fitting. She just stared at Tsubasa, mouth opening and shutting as she processed what the woman had said.
Tsubasa turned away and lay down. “If Yuugi doesn’t recover from this, I don’t know what the future holds for either of us. This might be a clean slate for me, but the cost would be his relationship with you and his friends. He matters so much to all of you. I don’t know what the best outcome to hope for is.”
She said nothing more. Anzu listened, but her breathing didn’t even out into sleep. Eventually, she too lay down and waited for rest that wouldn’t come. Which was more important: Yuugi’s bond with his mother, or his friendship with them? If he recovered his memory, Tsubasa would go back to Tokyo without him, guilt and regret making her still believe she didn’t deserve to be a part of Yuugi’s life. If he didn’t recover his memory of the last five years, she could start again. He could finally have a real relationship with her, but the price for that was so high.
Could Anzu really put friendship above family? Could she put herself above Tsubasa after what she had just heard? Everything was so complicated; there was no good answer. It made her wish for a card-wielding maniac and the clean lines of Good versus Evil.
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