[fic] Just Don't Look Back, Chapter 11 - Yugioh, YamixYugi, angst/romance, R, AU
Title: Just Don't Look Back
Chapter: 11
Author: Chey (duelist_gurl163)
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/romance
Pairing: YamixYugi
Archive: Here
Overall warnings: AU, implied sex, insanity, violence
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Before he met Yugi, Yami spent his days panhandling alone. Yugi put his heart into changing Yami’s life, giving him companionship, a home and his love. But even he can’t save Yami from the control of his past, nor the dark path he is set upon.
Disclaimer: Yugioh continues to not belong to me.
- 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 -
---
Murder, even the murder of someone who few knew about and even fewer cared about, gets headlines. It made the late news, and the papers managed to work it into their Monday edition for the next day. Yugi, who didn’t watch the news and who only read the paper when bored, went through his classes that day completely oblivious to what was going on. He might have heard the students who did read the news talking about it at some point, but was feeling depressed and tired and spent the day in a fog, listening to no one. When his friends questioned his bruises, he told them flatly that he had challenged some of Yami’s harassers to a fight. Jounouchi and Honda had congratulated him, Anzu had narrowed her eyes, clearly sensing they weren’t getting the whole story, and Yugi had feigned a headache and stopped talking after that, not wanting to admit just yet that Yami had left.
At home, he trudged upstairs, ignored his mother when she said good afternoon, and sat down glumly at his desk. After scribbling down a few made-up answers on his homework he went downstairs to join his grandfather, feeling lonely.
“Hi Grandpa.”
“Hi Yugi. How was school?”
“Just okay.”
He watched his grandfather turn the page of the newspaper he was reading and was struck by the memory of Yami sitting at the same counter reading the same way. He got up to start re-stocking empty shelves and asked a few customers if they needed help, but as he ran out of things to do he finally got bored enough to glance at the paper his grandfather was holding. A bold headline caught his eye.
“Six attacked, one dead at construction site,” he read aloud.
“Apparently it happened last night,” Sugoroku said. “No witnesses or suspects, and they were homeless so it couldn’t have been robbery. Motiveless violence, that’s what society is heading towards these days.” He turned the page with a heavy sigh.
Yugi felt his stomach twist nervously at the word ‘homeless.’ “Hey…Grandpa, can I see the paper when you’re done?”
“Sure.” He passed Yugi the news section and turned his attention to the stocks page.
Yugi almost dropped the paper as he flipped back to the page with the article, praying he would find a detail there that would tell him he was wrong. It can’t be them, it can’t, that’s impossible.
His eyes went immediately to a picture at the bottom.
Sasaki Ezui (46) dead of severe head trauma, read the caption.
The picture (it looked like a mug shot) was grainy, black-and-white, and printed too dark, but even without the name listed Yugi would have been able to recognize him. Familiar sunken eyes stared back at him.
He read the accompanying article in a vague daze. As much as he hated the man, it was chilling to think he was dead. He had never even known his surname. Yami had never told him.
Yami…. No, there’s no way, that can’t be, Yami would never-
His grandfather must have noticed Yugi going pale, because he looked concerned and asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
He closed the paper before Sugoroku could see which page he was reading. “Y-yes. Sorry…I’m kind of tired, I didn’t sleep very good last night.”
“Then go get some rest before dinner. I can close up without you.”
“Thank you,” Yugi replied faintly, bolting upstairs and to the bathroom before retching, overtaken by nausea at the utter shock of what he’d realized. Having eaten nothing that day, he could only heave a few times before sliding to the floor, bracing himself against the wall.
It can’t be Yami, Yami wouldn’t kill…
No, he couldn’t say that. He knew Yami had a violent streak where these people were concerned.
His skin felt clammy. The tile felt good on his cheek.
Just because someone looks like they could murder doesn’t mean that they will, he told himself, struggling not to panic yet.
After all, after what his mother had gone through, surely Yami wouldn’t want to end up on the wrong side of the law. He’d always been so determined to do things the right way; he had pride. He would go insane in jail, being locked up that way. He wouldn’t do anything to risk being sent there.
He was upset about them hurting me. He only attacked Ezui after he began messing with me. Then Mom made him believe that this was his fault…
Shaking, he managed to get to his feet, flush, and walk to his room to curl up on his bed. The turmoil inside him wasn’t going away. He buried his face in his pillow, as if blocking out the world would block out the truth.
He can’t go to jail! It’ll kill him to be sent there.
Wasn’t it the right thing, though? If Yami truly was a murderer, then jail was where he belonged. Sane or not, love or none, killing was wrong. Just because Yugi was worried about what it would do to him, he couldn’t let that stand in the way of justice.
Could he?
Yugi turned on his side and pressed his hands to his forehead. He felt that pressure that he and Eve had discussed building up inside him as he tried to refuse to believe what was starting to seem like a very real possibility.
Yami…why would you do this? Why?
- - -
The doorbell rang at eleven o’clock at night on Tuesday, the next day. Eve Atemu put the novel she was reading aside and approached the door cautiously. She wasn’t expecting anybody, and it was pouring down rain outside. She checked through the peephole first. Then she threw the door open.
“Yami? What are you doing here?”
He just stared blankly back, water dripping from his bangs. She motioned him inside, and the moment he was in he dropped his belongings and sank back against the wall.
“Yami?” she repeated. “What’s going on?”
His voice was weak and raspy as he finally spoke. “I- I think I did something really bad.”
She gave him a long look, her expression changing between concern, realization, and grim acceptance. “Was it you?” she asked quietly. “Did you attack Ezui and those other men?” There was no point in tip-toeing around the question. She had read about it in the paper the day before. She remembered them from before her arrest; they used to harass her as well. And she had certainly guessed they were the ones who Yugi had fought. Now, with the look on Yami's face, it all became clear.
His hands were pressed to his face. “Yes. I don’t know. I think I did. I can barely remember.”
“Yami…”
“I didn’t…I didn’t go out looking for them…I never intended…”
“I don’t understand why you would do this.”
“I...” His fingers tightened on his hair as he began to shiver uncontrollably. “Ezui was the one…I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t even looking for them, they were just there. I don’t even remember attacking. If they said anything, or if I said anything…I don’t know, I didn’t hear a thing, I just thought about Y-Yugi and then suddenly there was blood on my arms and…” Tears were leaking between his fingers. “What’s wrong with me?” he choked. “I killed someone…I almost killed five others. I didn’t even know what I was doing, I didn’t feel anything…what the hell is wrong with me?”
Eve stood silently. There was nothing she could say.
“Are you going to call the police?” Yami whispered.
She knew the right thing to do. She also knew, as Yugi had, that prison would be worse than torture for Yami. She’d made a choice between doing the right thing or protecting her son in the past and had never regretted her decision, but it still felt a bit eerie, how easy it was to break the law for his sake. “No.”
Yami looked up, his eyes widening.
“Yami, I do not condone what you did, but I won’t make you turn yourself in. That can be your choice. If you feel jail is where you can make amends, then that’s up to you. If you think you could better make up for your actions outside of prison, I will provide an alibi for you.”
Yami let out a sob, somehow relieved and feeling worse at the same time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to happen, I didn’t plan it, I didn’t want it…it was all over before I thought…” He collapsed to the floor as his legs gave out. “I don’t know what to do,” he choked as he turned his head away from her. He tried to lift his chin, a useless attempt to pretend there weren’t tears on his face. Eve’s expression softened. Quietly, she went to get a towel and knelt to wrap it around his soaked clothing. He kept his face resolutely turned away, even as she hugged him and he cried harder. “I’m s-sorry…”
After a half hour he managed to calm down, change clothes, and accept a cup of tea. He spent more time staring down into it blankly than drinking it, but it gave him something to focus on.
Eve sat across from him at the tiny table. “Yugi came here looking for you,” she said, breaking the silence.
“How…how is he?”
“Confused. Upset. Worried about you.”
“I meant his injuries,” Yami mumbled.
“Those are healing fine. He wasn’t hurt that badly.”
“Did he tell you what happened?”
“Not in detail. You can ask him yourself when you see him again,” she said.
Yami looked gloomily back into the mug. “I’m not.”
“You’re not what?”
“I’m not going to see him again. I’m leaving in a day or so. I have enough money to get to another city, I’ll find a job there.”
“So you’re never going to see Yugi again?”
“It’s what’s best for him. He wouldn’t want a murderer around.” Yami got to his feet, suddenly eager to leave the room and be alone.
“You mean you think it’s what’s best for you.”
He stopped. “What are you saying?”
Eve’s gaze didn’t waver. “Unless you want to be miserable the rest of your life, one day you’re going to have to find a reason to stop running. Yugi is the best reason you’ve had.”
“I am not running!”
“You are running,” she argued, ignoring the anger in his face. “And you’re letting memories hurt somebody you love. I’ve stood by and not said a word before because you had to learn on your own, but Yugi deserves to be treated better than this. The way you’re acting, I can’t help wondering if he isn’t just a replacement for Shoua in your mind.”
Yami clenched his fists. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. This has nothing to do with Shoua!”
“So you didn’t run away because seeing Yugi hurt might’ve forced you to remember something you didn’t want to?”
“Stop it!”
“I understand you’re hurt and afraid,” she said, gentling her voice. “That’s understandable, but you aren’t helping Yugi this way. He told me he loves you and he misses you. I believe he was sincere. He deserves to not be overshadowed by a ghost and he deserves the chance to decide for himself if he wants you around in spite of what you did. If you leave him behind and never come back, he’s going to be devastated.”
“I know that, Mom. But you don’t understand-”
“I understand enough to know that it took this long to finally let someone in. You were finally happy, Yami. And now you’re just going to leave that behind-”
“Mom, stop.”
“I told him you would come back to him.”
“Then I guess you lied to him!” Yami shouted. “If I say it’s over, that means it’s over! You had no right to make promises to him that I cannot keep!”
She didn’t respond. Yami squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. After a long silence he whispered, his voice shaking, “Yugi isn’t Shoua. I know that. But maybe…seeing him hurt…did make me realize he could be taken away just as easily.”
“You don’t know that he will be,” Eve replied gently. “And shouldn’t you give him the right to decide if he wants to take that chance?”
Slowly, Yami dropped back into the chair and stared back down at the now-cold cup of tea.
“I wanted to be part of his world,” he said, blinking rapidly as his voice cracked. “I really wanted…to be part of his life.”
“You still can be.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t go back to him. Not after this.”
“You’re wrong.”
Yami didn’t answer. He had stopped listening.
- - -
Later on he made up a bed for himself on the couch, and lay awake for hours. He closed his eyes and tried to recall the last time he had lost it and seriously injured someone. It had been almost two years ago, hadn’t it? He was walking around a corner behind the apartment building they lived in, and had spotted a man waving a knife and snarling at a young woman he was gripping by the wrist. Her purse was on the ground, contents spread around as if someone had rooted through it mercilessly.
The woman was crying, "Let me go, I swear, I gave you everything I had that was worth anything.”
“Stop lying, you bitch.” He grabbed her hair and pulled it back, revealing tiny gold earrings. “Trying to hide these?”
“No, please, my sister gave me those, she died last year-”
“Do you think I care?”
They hadn’t seen him yet and Yami began to back away, trying to remember where the nearest phone was. If he called the police, they might get there in time before the man got away or hurt her. He could hear the woman still pleading,
“They aren’t even real gold, they have no value-”
“So? I’m sure I can find someone who will believe they’re real. If you want to live, stop struggling and give them to me.”
At that moment Yami heard a sharp cry and looked back to see the man press the blade to her neck. “Your last chance honey, before you make me take them from your corpse.”
Yami suddenly felt the world spin faster, and a tiny white mark on his throat burned. The strangers before him dissolved, and he could feel cold steel against his skin. As his vision cleared, he found himself looking up into the glazed, unfocused eyes of an older man. The stranger was gripping his arm, swaying as he pressed the dull knife blade against his neck.
“Give me all your money, everything you have.”
“I don’t have any-” he tried to explain, but the stranger’s expression only grew wilder.
“You’re lying, you’re just greedy and want to keep it all for yourself. I know you’re living with the other refugees, the government has given you money!”
“No, I’m a minor, they didn’t give me any money. If you talk to the workers, they’ll help you, they’ll give you whatever you need.”
“Those workers don’t care about us,” he snarled. “They’ll run out of supplies soon. It’s survival of the fittest now.”
“I don’t have anything!” Yami struggled, trying to pull away. A sharp sting let him know the knife has broken skin.
“If you don’t have anything then you shouldn’t be alive. You being alive is just taking away supplies and food from someone else.”
Yami had already been feeling sick from heartache and stress and fear. But when the stranger said that, it was as if something poisonous had been injected into him. He could feel his chest tighten, his body twisting inside, his skin prickling and icy. To have the truth forced on him like this…
I shouldn’t be alive.
The sick feeling changed into something bitter and sharp in his throat. He swung his fist before he thought about it, grabbing the knife with the other and wrenching the man’s arm around at an unnatural angle. He heard a popping sound, and the man gasped and cursed, reflexively grabbing for his injured arm instead of hitting Yami back. By the time he managed to force himself to ignore the pain, Yami had the knife in his hand and stabbed blindly. The awkward angle turned some of the thrusts into punches, but it was enough. A few moments later the man threw himself backwards, out of Yami's reach.
Breathing hard, Yami shook his head and tried to steady himself. On his left he heard the sound of someone gasping and turned. The young woman from before sat on the ground, staring up at him with a mix of fear and gratitude in her eyes. He looked down at the groaning, bleeding man to see that it wasn’t the crazed stranger from the earthquake ruins, but the man who had been hitting the woman. He wasn’t on the street, he was in the back lot of the apartment building. Stepping away, he shook his head harder, feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous at the smell of the blood. What had he just done?
“You…you should go,” he finally said, his voice echoing in his ears. “You shouldn’t stay here. If he took your money, take it back and go.”
“What about you? You’re hurt-”
“I’ll be…” He didn’t finish, staggering another few steps away. He could feel pain, but couldn’t pin-point how badly he was hurt. His hands were shaking too hard to hold the knife anymore; it slipped from his numb fingers and fell to the ground. In a fog, he stumbled his way back to the apartment, where his mother had found him lying on the couch that evening.
“You did the right thing,” she told him, dabbing disinfectant on his scrapes.
“Yes, but…”
“You defended her. If the police come, you won’t get in trouble.”
“I wasn’t defending the woman,” he mumbled. “I…saw what was happening and turned to find a phone or someone to call the police. But when I saw him put the knife to her neck it reminded me of when that guy tried to rob me after the earthquake. I didn’t see her anymore. I was back in the past, and instead of getting away I fought back. I was defending myself the whole time, it wasn’t till it was over that I realized where I was. I don’t even remember moving, but I must have.” He sighed as she capped the bottle. “It used to be I only had flashbacks to the…really worst parts. Now they’re becoming more and more random, and they’re affecting my actions. What if one day I can’t control myself at all?”
She watched him sadly. “With a good therapist and the right medicine, there is probably a way to make them less severe, if not to stop them happening at all.”
“No, Mom. It costs too much.”
“Not that much. We could find a way to make it work.”
“No, we’re barely making it as it is. Besides, it isn’t really a big deal,” he said, hating her worried expression. “Today they actually came in handy. I already know to stay away from situations that will cause them, now I know that fighting is something else to stay away from.”
“It isn’t just those, Yami, I know-”
“Nightmares, same thing,” he interrupted. “I’m sure a lot of people are still having problems like this. I’ll be fine.”
He knew she didn’t believe him. He knew that she knew there was more to it. Something deeper, something darker than symptoms like nightmares and hallucinations. But she didn’t say anything.
Yami opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling above the couch. It had been a long time since he thought about that day. He never had gotten in trouble for it, but afterward he'd always avoided that area of the building. He didn't like the memory of it, of how he'd had no control over his body. Nobody had attacked him. He could have stayed out of it and gone for the phone, and he hadn’t. His only consolation was that he could put the blame on the flashback.
Even so, the event had shaken him. He remembered being so much in shock at having attacked the man as badly as he had that he hadn’t even known what to do afterwards. Should he tell someone? Should he get help? Had he done something bad? Would he get in trouble? All those questions had spiraled through his head.
He held up his hands. They were completely steady. It didn’t make any sense. The street had toughened him, made him someone who could fight back when thugs tried to pick on him, but he’d never thought he would kill.
What would Yugi think of me?
His throat closed up.
Despite what he had told his mother, part of him still held onto the hope that he could go back. He missed Yugi, he wanted to be there beside him. As scared as he was, part of him was already begging to go back to him.
I can’t. There’s something wrong with me. I’m losing everything, nothing is fixing it, nothing is helping…
His hands finally shook.
X - X - X
Notes: Not much to say about this one. It strikes me as a bit of a "filler" chapter and therefore I'm not that happy with it, but I do think it and all the stuff in it is necessary. Except maybe for the last part, which was mostly to fill in backstory.
Chapter 12 though! Oooh, am I looking forward to posting that one! So even if this chapter has lagged a bit, chapter 12 will make it all worth it, I assure you.
Chapter: 11
Author: Chey (duelist_gurl163)
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/romance
Pairing: YamixYugi
Archive: Here
Overall warnings: AU, implied sex, insanity, violence
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Before he met Yugi, Yami spent his days panhandling alone. Yugi put his heart into changing Yami’s life, giving him companionship, a home and his love. But even he can’t save Yami from the control of his past, nor the dark path he is set upon.
Disclaimer: Yugioh continues to not belong to me.
- 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 -
---
Murder, even the murder of someone who few knew about and even fewer cared about, gets headlines. It made the late news, and the papers managed to work it into their Monday edition for the next day. Yugi, who didn’t watch the news and who only read the paper when bored, went through his classes that day completely oblivious to what was going on. He might have heard the students who did read the news talking about it at some point, but was feeling depressed and tired and spent the day in a fog, listening to no one. When his friends questioned his bruises, he told them flatly that he had challenged some of Yami’s harassers to a fight. Jounouchi and Honda had congratulated him, Anzu had narrowed her eyes, clearly sensing they weren’t getting the whole story, and Yugi had feigned a headache and stopped talking after that, not wanting to admit just yet that Yami had left.
At home, he trudged upstairs, ignored his mother when she said good afternoon, and sat down glumly at his desk. After scribbling down a few made-up answers on his homework he went downstairs to join his grandfather, feeling lonely.
“Hi Grandpa.”
“Hi Yugi. How was school?”
“Just okay.”
He watched his grandfather turn the page of the newspaper he was reading and was struck by the memory of Yami sitting at the same counter reading the same way. He got up to start re-stocking empty shelves and asked a few customers if they needed help, but as he ran out of things to do he finally got bored enough to glance at the paper his grandfather was holding. A bold headline caught his eye.
“Six attacked, one dead at construction site,” he read aloud.
“Apparently it happened last night,” Sugoroku said. “No witnesses or suspects, and they were homeless so it couldn’t have been robbery. Motiveless violence, that’s what society is heading towards these days.” He turned the page with a heavy sigh.
Yugi felt his stomach twist nervously at the word ‘homeless.’ “Hey…Grandpa, can I see the paper when you’re done?”
“Sure.” He passed Yugi the news section and turned his attention to the stocks page.
Yugi almost dropped the paper as he flipped back to the page with the article, praying he would find a detail there that would tell him he was wrong. It can’t be them, it can’t, that’s impossible.
His eyes went immediately to a picture at the bottom.
Sasaki Ezui (46) dead of severe head trauma, read the caption.
The picture (it looked like a mug shot) was grainy, black-and-white, and printed too dark, but even without the name listed Yugi would have been able to recognize him. Familiar sunken eyes stared back at him.
He read the accompanying article in a vague daze. As much as he hated the man, it was chilling to think he was dead. He had never even known his surname. Yami had never told him.
Yami…. No, there’s no way, that can’t be, Yami would never-
His grandfather must have noticed Yugi going pale, because he looked concerned and asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
He closed the paper before Sugoroku could see which page he was reading. “Y-yes. Sorry…I’m kind of tired, I didn’t sleep very good last night.”
“Then go get some rest before dinner. I can close up without you.”
“Thank you,” Yugi replied faintly, bolting upstairs and to the bathroom before retching, overtaken by nausea at the utter shock of what he’d realized. Having eaten nothing that day, he could only heave a few times before sliding to the floor, bracing himself against the wall.
It can’t be Yami, Yami wouldn’t kill…
No, he couldn’t say that. He knew Yami had a violent streak where these people were concerned.
His skin felt clammy. The tile felt good on his cheek.
Just because someone looks like they could murder doesn’t mean that they will, he told himself, struggling not to panic yet.
After all, after what his mother had gone through, surely Yami wouldn’t want to end up on the wrong side of the law. He’d always been so determined to do things the right way; he had pride. He would go insane in jail, being locked up that way. He wouldn’t do anything to risk being sent there.
He was upset about them hurting me. He only attacked Ezui after he began messing with me. Then Mom made him believe that this was his fault…
Shaking, he managed to get to his feet, flush, and walk to his room to curl up on his bed. The turmoil inside him wasn’t going away. He buried his face in his pillow, as if blocking out the world would block out the truth.
He can’t go to jail! It’ll kill him to be sent there.
Wasn’t it the right thing, though? If Yami truly was a murderer, then jail was where he belonged. Sane or not, love or none, killing was wrong. Just because Yugi was worried about what it would do to him, he couldn’t let that stand in the way of justice.
Could he?
Yugi turned on his side and pressed his hands to his forehead. He felt that pressure that he and Eve had discussed building up inside him as he tried to refuse to believe what was starting to seem like a very real possibility.
Yami…why would you do this? Why?
- - -
The doorbell rang at eleven o’clock at night on Tuesday, the next day. Eve Atemu put the novel she was reading aside and approached the door cautiously. She wasn’t expecting anybody, and it was pouring down rain outside. She checked through the peephole first. Then she threw the door open.
“Yami? What are you doing here?”
He just stared blankly back, water dripping from his bangs. She motioned him inside, and the moment he was in he dropped his belongings and sank back against the wall.
“Yami?” she repeated. “What’s going on?”
His voice was weak and raspy as he finally spoke. “I- I think I did something really bad.”
She gave him a long look, her expression changing between concern, realization, and grim acceptance. “Was it you?” she asked quietly. “Did you attack Ezui and those other men?” There was no point in tip-toeing around the question. She had read about it in the paper the day before. She remembered them from before her arrest; they used to harass her as well. And she had certainly guessed they were the ones who Yugi had fought. Now, with the look on Yami's face, it all became clear.
His hands were pressed to his face. “Yes. I don’t know. I think I did. I can barely remember.”
“Yami…”
“I didn’t…I didn’t go out looking for them…I never intended…”
“I don’t understand why you would do this.”
“I...” His fingers tightened on his hair as he began to shiver uncontrollably. “Ezui was the one…I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t even looking for them, they were just there. I don’t even remember attacking. If they said anything, or if I said anything…I don’t know, I didn’t hear a thing, I just thought about Y-Yugi and then suddenly there was blood on my arms and…” Tears were leaking between his fingers. “What’s wrong with me?” he choked. “I killed someone…I almost killed five others. I didn’t even know what I was doing, I didn’t feel anything…what the hell is wrong with me?”
Eve stood silently. There was nothing she could say.
“Are you going to call the police?” Yami whispered.
She knew the right thing to do. She also knew, as Yugi had, that prison would be worse than torture for Yami. She’d made a choice between doing the right thing or protecting her son in the past and had never regretted her decision, but it still felt a bit eerie, how easy it was to break the law for his sake. “No.”
Yami looked up, his eyes widening.
“Yami, I do not condone what you did, but I won’t make you turn yourself in. That can be your choice. If you feel jail is where you can make amends, then that’s up to you. If you think you could better make up for your actions outside of prison, I will provide an alibi for you.”
Yami let out a sob, somehow relieved and feeling worse at the same time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want this to happen, I didn’t plan it, I didn’t want it…it was all over before I thought…” He collapsed to the floor as his legs gave out. “I don’t know what to do,” he choked as he turned his head away from her. He tried to lift his chin, a useless attempt to pretend there weren’t tears on his face. Eve’s expression softened. Quietly, she went to get a towel and knelt to wrap it around his soaked clothing. He kept his face resolutely turned away, even as she hugged him and he cried harder. “I’m s-sorry…”
After a half hour he managed to calm down, change clothes, and accept a cup of tea. He spent more time staring down into it blankly than drinking it, but it gave him something to focus on.
Eve sat across from him at the tiny table. “Yugi came here looking for you,” she said, breaking the silence.
“How…how is he?”
“Confused. Upset. Worried about you.”
“I meant his injuries,” Yami mumbled.
“Those are healing fine. He wasn’t hurt that badly.”
“Did he tell you what happened?”
“Not in detail. You can ask him yourself when you see him again,” she said.
Yami looked gloomily back into the mug. “I’m not.”
“You’re not what?”
“I’m not going to see him again. I’m leaving in a day or so. I have enough money to get to another city, I’ll find a job there.”
“So you’re never going to see Yugi again?”
“It’s what’s best for him. He wouldn’t want a murderer around.” Yami got to his feet, suddenly eager to leave the room and be alone.
“You mean you think it’s what’s best for you.”
He stopped. “What are you saying?”
Eve’s gaze didn’t waver. “Unless you want to be miserable the rest of your life, one day you’re going to have to find a reason to stop running. Yugi is the best reason you’ve had.”
“I am not running!”
“You are running,” she argued, ignoring the anger in his face. “And you’re letting memories hurt somebody you love. I’ve stood by and not said a word before because you had to learn on your own, but Yugi deserves to be treated better than this. The way you’re acting, I can’t help wondering if he isn’t just a replacement for Shoua in your mind.”
Yami clenched his fists. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. This has nothing to do with Shoua!”
“So you didn’t run away because seeing Yugi hurt might’ve forced you to remember something you didn’t want to?”
“Stop it!”
“I understand you’re hurt and afraid,” she said, gentling her voice. “That’s understandable, but you aren’t helping Yugi this way. He told me he loves you and he misses you. I believe he was sincere. He deserves to not be overshadowed by a ghost and he deserves the chance to decide for himself if he wants you around in spite of what you did. If you leave him behind and never come back, he’s going to be devastated.”
“I know that, Mom. But you don’t understand-”
“I understand enough to know that it took this long to finally let someone in. You were finally happy, Yami. And now you’re just going to leave that behind-”
“Mom, stop.”
“I told him you would come back to him.”
“Then I guess you lied to him!” Yami shouted. “If I say it’s over, that means it’s over! You had no right to make promises to him that I cannot keep!”
She didn’t respond. Yami squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip. After a long silence he whispered, his voice shaking, “Yugi isn’t Shoua. I know that. But maybe…seeing him hurt…did make me realize he could be taken away just as easily.”
“You don’t know that he will be,” Eve replied gently. “And shouldn’t you give him the right to decide if he wants to take that chance?”
Slowly, Yami dropped back into the chair and stared back down at the now-cold cup of tea.
“I wanted to be part of his world,” he said, blinking rapidly as his voice cracked. “I really wanted…to be part of his life.”
“You still can be.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t go back to him. Not after this.”
“You’re wrong.”
Yami didn’t answer. He had stopped listening.
- - -
Later on he made up a bed for himself on the couch, and lay awake for hours. He closed his eyes and tried to recall the last time he had lost it and seriously injured someone. It had been almost two years ago, hadn’t it? He was walking around a corner behind the apartment building they lived in, and had spotted a man waving a knife and snarling at a young woman he was gripping by the wrist. Her purse was on the ground, contents spread around as if someone had rooted through it mercilessly.
The woman was crying, "Let me go, I swear, I gave you everything I had that was worth anything.”
“Stop lying, you bitch.” He grabbed her hair and pulled it back, revealing tiny gold earrings. “Trying to hide these?”
“No, please, my sister gave me those, she died last year-”
“Do you think I care?”
They hadn’t seen him yet and Yami began to back away, trying to remember where the nearest phone was. If he called the police, they might get there in time before the man got away or hurt her. He could hear the woman still pleading,
“They aren’t even real gold, they have no value-”
“So? I’m sure I can find someone who will believe they’re real. If you want to live, stop struggling and give them to me.”
At that moment Yami heard a sharp cry and looked back to see the man press the blade to her neck. “Your last chance honey, before you make me take them from your corpse.”
Yami suddenly felt the world spin faster, and a tiny white mark on his throat burned. The strangers before him dissolved, and he could feel cold steel against his skin. As his vision cleared, he found himself looking up into the glazed, unfocused eyes of an older man. The stranger was gripping his arm, swaying as he pressed the dull knife blade against his neck.
“Give me all your money, everything you have.”
“I don’t have any-” he tried to explain, but the stranger’s expression only grew wilder.
“You’re lying, you’re just greedy and want to keep it all for yourself. I know you’re living with the other refugees, the government has given you money!”
“No, I’m a minor, they didn’t give me any money. If you talk to the workers, they’ll help you, they’ll give you whatever you need.”
“Those workers don’t care about us,” he snarled. “They’ll run out of supplies soon. It’s survival of the fittest now.”
“I don’t have anything!” Yami struggled, trying to pull away. A sharp sting let him know the knife has broken skin.
“If you don’t have anything then you shouldn’t be alive. You being alive is just taking away supplies and food from someone else.”
Yami had already been feeling sick from heartache and stress and fear. But when the stranger said that, it was as if something poisonous had been injected into him. He could feel his chest tighten, his body twisting inside, his skin prickling and icy. To have the truth forced on him like this…
I shouldn’t be alive.
The sick feeling changed into something bitter and sharp in his throat. He swung his fist before he thought about it, grabbing the knife with the other and wrenching the man’s arm around at an unnatural angle. He heard a popping sound, and the man gasped and cursed, reflexively grabbing for his injured arm instead of hitting Yami back. By the time he managed to force himself to ignore the pain, Yami had the knife in his hand and stabbed blindly. The awkward angle turned some of the thrusts into punches, but it was enough. A few moments later the man threw himself backwards, out of Yami's reach.
Breathing hard, Yami shook his head and tried to steady himself. On his left he heard the sound of someone gasping and turned. The young woman from before sat on the ground, staring up at him with a mix of fear and gratitude in her eyes. He looked down at the groaning, bleeding man to see that it wasn’t the crazed stranger from the earthquake ruins, but the man who had been hitting the woman. He wasn’t on the street, he was in the back lot of the apartment building. Stepping away, he shook his head harder, feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous at the smell of the blood. What had he just done?
“You…you should go,” he finally said, his voice echoing in his ears. “You shouldn’t stay here. If he took your money, take it back and go.”
“What about you? You’re hurt-”
“I’ll be…” He didn’t finish, staggering another few steps away. He could feel pain, but couldn’t pin-point how badly he was hurt. His hands were shaking too hard to hold the knife anymore; it slipped from his numb fingers and fell to the ground. In a fog, he stumbled his way back to the apartment, where his mother had found him lying on the couch that evening.
“You did the right thing,” she told him, dabbing disinfectant on his scrapes.
“Yes, but…”
“You defended her. If the police come, you won’t get in trouble.”
“I wasn’t defending the woman,” he mumbled. “I…saw what was happening and turned to find a phone or someone to call the police. But when I saw him put the knife to her neck it reminded me of when that guy tried to rob me after the earthquake. I didn’t see her anymore. I was back in the past, and instead of getting away I fought back. I was defending myself the whole time, it wasn’t till it was over that I realized where I was. I don’t even remember moving, but I must have.” He sighed as she capped the bottle. “It used to be I only had flashbacks to the…really worst parts. Now they’re becoming more and more random, and they’re affecting my actions. What if one day I can’t control myself at all?”
She watched him sadly. “With a good therapist and the right medicine, there is probably a way to make them less severe, if not to stop them happening at all.”
“No, Mom. It costs too much.”
“Not that much. We could find a way to make it work.”
“No, we’re barely making it as it is. Besides, it isn’t really a big deal,” he said, hating her worried expression. “Today they actually came in handy. I already know to stay away from situations that will cause them, now I know that fighting is something else to stay away from.”
“It isn’t just those, Yami, I know-”
“Nightmares, same thing,” he interrupted. “I’m sure a lot of people are still having problems like this. I’ll be fine.”
He knew she didn’t believe him. He knew that she knew there was more to it. Something deeper, something darker than symptoms like nightmares and hallucinations. But she didn’t say anything.
Yami opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling above the couch. It had been a long time since he thought about that day. He never had gotten in trouble for it, but afterward he'd always avoided that area of the building. He didn't like the memory of it, of how he'd had no control over his body. Nobody had attacked him. He could have stayed out of it and gone for the phone, and he hadn’t. His only consolation was that he could put the blame on the flashback.
Even so, the event had shaken him. He remembered being so much in shock at having attacked the man as badly as he had that he hadn’t even known what to do afterwards. Should he tell someone? Should he get help? Had he done something bad? Would he get in trouble? All those questions had spiraled through his head.
He held up his hands. They were completely steady. It didn’t make any sense. The street had toughened him, made him someone who could fight back when thugs tried to pick on him, but he’d never thought he would kill.
What would Yugi think of me?
His throat closed up.
Despite what he had told his mother, part of him still held onto the hope that he could go back. He missed Yugi, he wanted to be there beside him. As scared as he was, part of him was already begging to go back to him.
I can’t. There’s something wrong with me. I’m losing everything, nothing is fixing it, nothing is helping…
His hands finally shook.
X - X - X
Notes: Not much to say about this one. It strikes me as a bit of a "filler" chapter and therefore I'm not that happy with it, but I do think it and all the stuff in it is necessary. Except maybe for the last part, which was mostly to fill in backstory.
Chapter 12 though! Oooh, am I looking forward to posting that one! So even if this chapter has lagged a bit, chapter 12 will make it all worth it, I assure you.