Post by Scribbler on Aug 16, 2012 17:50:27 GMT -5
You always feel more comfortable while playing games.”
Yuugi cautiously sat on the other side of the game on the floor. He looked down. It was Snakes and Ladders. He always used to play it when he was a little kid. His parents would press their hands over his and whoosh his counter down snakes and up ladders because he was too young to play properly on his own. It had been his favourite. He picked out a red counter and placed it on the starting square. The boy-who-wasn’t-him chose a blue counter and did likewise.
“You’re not an older me,” he said, gathering his thoughts as best he could. This was so surreal. “Are you even real?”
“Oh, I am real,” the boy said in his curiously formal way of speaking. He didn’t shorten words and used an accent that sounded both foreign and posh without going too far either way. “You do not remember meeting me.”
“No. How did we meet?” Yuugi picked up two dice and threw them. He rolled a two and a three and moved his counter forward five spaces.
The other boy picked up the dice. He rattled them in his fist. “You solved my Puzzle.”
“Huh?”
He threw two sixes and moved forward twelve squares. “I am real, but I am not alive the way you are.”
“Are you a ghost?”
“Something like that. Please do not be afraid of me. I would never hurt you, Yuugi.”
Yuugi tipped his head to one side. “No,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t think you would.”
“Good.”
“What’s your name?”
“I have had several, but in all honesty, I do not know. Nobody does. You have called me different names, but generally you call me simply ‘Spirit’ as I am the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle. It was my prison until you solved it and set me free.”
“No wonder I don’t remember you. I don’t remember solving the Puzzle.”
“I will be forever grateful to you for doing so.”
“Uh, you’re welcome?”
The boy smiled. It softened his whole face. Yuugi could only hope that when he grew up, he looked even half as good as that when he smiled. “We have been through much together.”
“We have?” Yuugi threw the dice and moved forward four spaces, putting himself at the base of a ladder. He went up it to square thirty-one and pushed the dice toward the other boy.
“Yes.” The other boy picked them up and rolled two more sixes. He had awesome luck. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”
“Um, I guess. But do we have time?” Yuugi rolled and moved two spaces.
“I could show you instead.”
“You could?”
The boy nodded. He rolled another two sixes. “You have shared your memories with me on numerous occasions. It is thanks to you sharing yourself with me that I am able to speak Japanese even though I was not born in this country.
“How … how did I do that?” Yuugi squinted at him. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming? This is really weird but … it doesn’t feel weird. I was in my room at the hospital a minute ago, but now I’m sitting here playing a game, talking to you, and it doesn’t feel as wrong as it should.”
“As I said, we have been through much together. You have allowed me into your Soul Room many times before.”
“Is that what this place is?”
“This room is a representation of your inner self – the essence of who you are.” The boy levelled a strange look at him. “Your soul.”
Yuugi stared at the toys, peeling paint and lack of windows. “I don’t think I like it much.”
“It does not always look this way. It had altered recently, but has reverted to a more childish state since …”
“Since I lost my memory.” Yuugi drew in a breath. “Could you … could you really show me the time I lost?”
“Not all of it,” the boy said sadly. “Only the parts I shared in or that you shared with me and I remember. Perhaps, however, these would be enough to help you access the rest on your own.” He sounded worried. “I hope this would be the case.”
Yuugi’s breathing quickened. To centre himself he rattled the dice like the other boy had done and rolled them. He moved three spaces. Guessing the number the other boy would throw, he pushed them across the board and was unsurprised to see him roll another two sixes.
“What if you’re wrong?” he asked in a small voice. “What would happen to me?”
“In truth, I do not know.” The boy looked down at his hands bunched on his knees. “I am sorry.”
Yuugi picked up the dice in both hands. “Could I go back to Anzu now, if I wanted?”
“Yes. This is not happening in the physical realm.”
Yuugi held out the dice. “Roll this one.” He tossed the boy the left one.
The boy caught it. “Why?”
“Please just do it.”
He rolled a six.
Yuugi tossed the right one. “This one too.”
Another six.
“This is … this is magic, isn’t it? It’s to do with magic.” The words felt correct in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t that he remembered magic or anything, but they slotted into a groove in his mind that he hadn’t realised felt empty until that moment: like realising your feet are cold only after you put on a pair of socks.
The boy nodded. “Yes.”
Yuugi swallowed. He picked up the dice and rolled them. A three and a five. “I can’t do magic.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to, aibou.”
Yuugi cautiously sat on the other side of the game on the floor. He looked down. It was Snakes and Ladders. He always used to play it when he was a little kid. His parents would press their hands over his and whoosh his counter down snakes and up ladders because he was too young to play properly on his own. It had been his favourite. He picked out a red counter and placed it on the starting square. The boy-who-wasn’t-him chose a blue counter and did likewise.
“You’re not an older me,” he said, gathering his thoughts as best he could. This was so surreal. “Are you even real?”
“Oh, I am real,” the boy said in his curiously formal way of speaking. He didn’t shorten words and used an accent that sounded both foreign and posh without going too far either way. “You do not remember meeting me.”
“No. How did we meet?” Yuugi picked up two dice and threw them. He rolled a two and a three and moved his counter forward five spaces.
The other boy picked up the dice. He rattled them in his fist. “You solved my Puzzle.”
“Huh?”
He threw two sixes and moved forward twelve squares. “I am real, but I am not alive the way you are.”
“Are you a ghost?”
“Something like that. Please do not be afraid of me. I would never hurt you, Yuugi.”
Yuugi tipped his head to one side. “No,” he said thoughtfully. “I don’t think you would.”
“Good.”
“What’s your name?”
“I have had several, but in all honesty, I do not know. Nobody does. You have called me different names, but generally you call me simply ‘Spirit’ as I am the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle. It was my prison until you solved it and set me free.”
“No wonder I don’t remember you. I don’t remember solving the Puzzle.”
“I will be forever grateful to you for doing so.”
“Uh, you’re welcome?”
The boy smiled. It softened his whole face. Yuugi could only hope that when he grew up, he looked even half as good as that when he smiled. “We have been through much together.”
“We have?” Yuugi threw the dice and moved forward four spaces, putting himself at the base of a ladder. He went up it to square thirty-one and pushed the dice toward the other boy.
“Yes.” The other boy picked them up and rolled two more sixes. He had awesome luck. “Would you like me to tell you about them?”
“Um, I guess. But do we have time?” Yuugi rolled and moved two spaces.
“I could show you instead.”
“You could?”
The boy nodded. He rolled another two sixes. “You have shared your memories with me on numerous occasions. It is thanks to you sharing yourself with me that I am able to speak Japanese even though I was not born in this country.
“How … how did I do that?” Yuugi squinted at him. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming? This is really weird but … it doesn’t feel weird. I was in my room at the hospital a minute ago, but now I’m sitting here playing a game, talking to you, and it doesn’t feel as wrong as it should.”
“As I said, we have been through much together. You have allowed me into your Soul Room many times before.”
“Is that what this place is?”
“This room is a representation of your inner self – the essence of who you are.” The boy levelled a strange look at him. “Your soul.”
Yuugi stared at the toys, peeling paint and lack of windows. “I don’t think I like it much.”
“It does not always look this way. It had altered recently, but has reverted to a more childish state since …”
“Since I lost my memory.” Yuugi drew in a breath. “Could you … could you really show me the time I lost?”
“Not all of it,” the boy said sadly. “Only the parts I shared in or that you shared with me and I remember. Perhaps, however, these would be enough to help you access the rest on your own.” He sounded worried. “I hope this would be the case.”
Yuugi’s breathing quickened. To centre himself he rattled the dice like the other boy had done and rolled them. He moved three spaces. Guessing the number the other boy would throw, he pushed them across the board and was unsurprised to see him roll another two sixes.
“What if you’re wrong?” he asked in a small voice. “What would happen to me?”
“In truth, I do not know.” The boy looked down at his hands bunched on his knees. “I am sorry.”
Yuugi picked up the dice in both hands. “Could I go back to Anzu now, if I wanted?”
“Yes. This is not happening in the physical realm.”
Yuugi held out the dice. “Roll this one.” He tossed the boy the left one.
The boy caught it. “Why?”
“Please just do it.”
He rolled a six.
Yuugi tossed the right one. “This one too.”
Another six.
“This is … this is magic, isn’t it? It’s to do with magic.” The words felt correct in a way he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t that he remembered magic or anything, but they slotted into a groove in his mind that he hadn’t realised felt empty until that moment: like realising your feet are cold only after you put on a pair of socks.
The boy nodded. “Yes.”
Yuugi swallowed. He picked up the dice and rolled them. A three and a five. “I can’t do magic.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to, aibou.”