[fic] Traces - Yugioh, YYxY, angst, PG-13
Title: Traces
Author: Chey (duelist_gurl163)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Parings: YamixYugi implied
Archive: aijou_aibou
Warnings: Character death mentioned
Spoilers: The end of the series, not like everyone doesn't already know how it ended...
Summary: People seem to think mourning can be turned off as if flipping a switch. Yugi tried that. It didn't work.
Disclaimer: Yugioh still ain't mine. Yet.
Striking out another square on his calendar beside the bed, the young man capped his pen and studied the crossed-out days. He liked to keep track of the days this way, and would cross out the preceding day each morning. Unbidden his hands flipped the page and his eyes went directly to one specific square from the past month. This one wasn’t crossed off. He hadn’t been home on that day, and when he’d gotten back home for some reason he’d been unable to strike it out. So that square remained untouched, a blank white spot in a sea of multicoloured slash marks. A stab of pain burst inside his chest.
What am I doing?
He shook his head and returned the calendar to the current month, and set it down. Firmly, he tried to direct his thoughts to something else. Just like a pen had not touched that day, his mind should not touch upon it either.
I’ve let it go. I knew it was time, and I let it go and moved on. It was the right thing to do.
He couldn’t be second-guessing that now.
With this knowledge fixed in his brain he fell backwards onto his bed and tried to think of something to do. Except he didn’t feel like doing much of anything. He hadn’t for quite awhile. Ever since…
“Yugi?” There was a knock on the door and as Yugi rolled onto his stomach, his grandfather opened it.
“Hi Grandpa.”
“What are you doing still lying around in bed? It’s 11:00 already.”
“I’m sorry…”
“You spend way too much time up here. I’m giving you a job today. Do your laundry. You’ve got some things in here that I know haven’t been washed in a month.”
“What?” Yugi frowned.
“You spend every free second up here in this room, you need to get up and do something.” He walked into the room, carrying a new bottle of laundry detergent, setting it on Yugi’s nightstand. “Get out of this room and occupy yourself with something else for a little while, even just an hour. It’ll help.”
“Help what? I don’t need-“ Yugi began, somewhat defiantly.
“By keeping your mind active, by giving you something else to focus on. I know it’s hard but you can’t hole up and hide in here forever. …He wouldn’t want you to.”
“Grandpa, I’m fine.” Yugi narrowed his eyes at the last sentence. “I’ve just been kind of tired lately and resting, I’m not hiding-“
“Yugi.”
This time the elder man’s voice and eyes had softened. He didn’t need to say anything else for Yugi to know that all pretenses were useless. Yugi paused and then lowered his eyes, rolling onto his side to avoid his grandpa’s gaze. So he missed the additional flash of concern and sympathy that entered Sugoroku’s expression.
“Okay Grandpa…I will.”
There was silence in the room for another long moment, and then he heard the door shut softly.
“Do your laundry…it’ll help…” Yugi muttered to himself as he sorted darks and lights in the laundry room fifteen minutes later. “So stupid…he just wanted an excuse to make me do the laundry instead of him…”
And what was all that about ‘he wouldn’t want you to.’ Like Grandpa really thinks he’s going to speak for…
That same burst of pain from that morning interrupted before he could even think the name.
I don’t need to stay active, because I’m not avoiding anything! His sorting of clothes began to quicken in his frustration. It all happened weeks ago. Soon it’ll be a month. I’ve moved on, it’s over!
He paused in the sorting. Sure I miss him, but…but I’ve let go. I don’t have those feelings that I used to. Those are gone, they left with him. So I don’t need any help.
“That’s right.” He shook himself as he resumed his chore, speaking roughly aloud and glaring, as if the very air around him was defying him.
It’s all over with. He repeated his mantra to himself as he kept sorting. This was his grandfather’s fault. By bringing all of this back up he was making Yugi focus on something that he wasn’t supposed to be focusing on, and ruining all his hard work at not focusing.
All over…
His hand settled on the last piece of clothing in the basket, a plain black tank top. He picked it up, about to toss it into the washer with the rest of the dark-coloured clothes, when a sudden familiar scent reached him.
He lowered his arm and looked down at the shirt. Could it…?
Dropping the basket, he slowly brought the fabric to his nose and breathed in. Something inside him began to ache.
Atemu…
Yugi owned several black tank tops, he was fond of them and they were comfortable, but there was no mistake. The last person to wear this one hadn’t been himself, and he knew it.
Taking another breath he found himself burying his face into the soft fabric, trying to take in as much of the scent as he could.
It might’ve seemed so unobtrusive to anybody else. A slight dusty smell, (it had probably been lying around his room awhile) a hint of body soap, and an additional unidentifiable scent.
And it was that final one that gave Yugi the clue. For dust could come from anywhere, and they had both liked and used the same body wash. But that final scent…it was one person and one person only.
The young man Yugi had said good-bye to only weeks before…the ancient Pharaoh reborn in this world to finish what he started and fated to leave them when his purpose was served…
The one and only person Yugi had ever loved…ever would love.
“A…Ate…” He whispered into the shirt, his body trembling as memories flooded back on him.
It was him, there was no doubt. His silky clean, comfortingly warm scent that Yugi had always noticed and cherished anytime they were near each other. Atemu had been the only person in the world that was capable of smelling warm. So paradoxical, considering his dark soul and sometimes cold demeanor. Yet, Yugi had always sensed warmth and gentleness in Atemu’s body.
So strange, that a simple whiff of an old shirt could bring back memories like this, and he tried to get himself under control. The man that left this scent, the man with the warm and gentle arms that Yugi remembered so well, was gone.
A man whom Yugi had let go, released from this world himself in fact. He had loved Atemu, that was true. Loved him more deeply than he ever understood. Yet he knew it was love that was hopeless. And he had let go and moved on from it all. Yugi couldn’t start grieving again and ruin all of that now.
And clinging to a shirt was not going to bring him back anyway.
With a sigh, Yugi loosened his grip and dropped the shirt into the washer, reaching for the detergent. He measured out the right amount, and moved to pour it in.
But he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t do it. His hand shook over the open washer, the cup of liquid soap clenched in his fingers, and he couldn’t make himself pour it.
What’s the big deal? Why can’t I just…?
His eyes fell on the wrinkled black shirt on top.
As soon as I wash this…his scent will be gone forever.
Now he was just being stupid, why should he feel bad about washing a shirt? By all accounts, the shirt was dirty! If Atemu was here, he would say Yugi should wash it.
But he’s not here.
That was just it. Atemu wasn’t there. He would never be there again.
And once that shirt was washed, the last traces Yugi had of him would be gone as well.
But why should he worry about that?
After all, the remains of Atemu were fading. The cards from his deck were buried in a drawer out of sight. The missing weight of the Puzzle around Yugi’s neck became normal. The urges to attempt to talk to him had been trained away. Even this shirt, eventually, would lose his scent. Atemu was gone. The world was moving on without him. Why should it matter if one more trace of his existence was washed away now? All of the traces would vanish in the end, anyway.
I’m over it. I let him go. I don’t need this shirt, I don’t need him!
Oh it was almost amusing, how he could tell himself that, as if it really changed a damn thing.
Reaching out with one hand, Yugi picked up the garment and brought it to his chest, pouring the soap over the rest of the clothes and closing the lid. Mechanically he programmed the timer, and pressed start. Setting down the cup, he stared at the shirt for a long time, then suddenly gripped it to his chest, clinging to it with both hands, pressing it to his cheek.
“…I n-need him…” He whispered, his eyes growing wet with tears he had choked back for weeks. “I still n-need h-him…”
Time meant nothing. Words meant nothing. Yugi had tried to do the right thing, the normal thing, because he didn’t want him to see him still grieving over him after all this time. And he had tried so hard…but it was all for nothing. All the lies and distractions and sternly programmed thoughts in the world meant nothing. Even his grandfather’s well-meant help wouldn’t change what was really happening.
That Yugi had lost his only true love.
That he would never learn nor accept the idea of really letting him go.
And that even though they were fading, even though the rest of the world wanted him to move on, that Yugi still needed, desperately, to hang on to the traces that were left.
X - X - X
Notes: I realized about halfway through this that it...um...kinda resembled some other fanfics I've read...^^; I swear, I didn't intentionally steal ideas! I know Yugi's reaction to losing Yami is a popular topic anyway. I tried to go back and change things to make it more original but I was attached to some scenes and couldn't change them too drastically...eh. Well I tried.
Author: Chey (duelist_gurl163)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Parings: YamixYugi implied
Archive: aijou_aibou
Warnings: Character death mentioned
Spoilers: The end of the series, not like everyone doesn't already know how it ended...
Summary: People seem to think mourning can be turned off as if flipping a switch. Yugi tried that. It didn't work.
Disclaimer: Yugioh still ain't mine. Yet.
Striking out another square on his calendar beside the bed, the young man capped his pen and studied the crossed-out days. He liked to keep track of the days this way, and would cross out the preceding day each morning. Unbidden his hands flipped the page and his eyes went directly to one specific square from the past month. This one wasn’t crossed off. He hadn’t been home on that day, and when he’d gotten back home for some reason he’d been unable to strike it out. So that square remained untouched, a blank white spot in a sea of multicoloured slash marks. A stab of pain burst inside his chest.
What am I doing?
He shook his head and returned the calendar to the current month, and set it down. Firmly, he tried to direct his thoughts to something else. Just like a pen had not touched that day, his mind should not touch upon it either.
I’ve let it go. I knew it was time, and I let it go and moved on. It was the right thing to do.
He couldn’t be second-guessing that now.
With this knowledge fixed in his brain he fell backwards onto his bed and tried to think of something to do. Except he didn’t feel like doing much of anything. He hadn’t for quite awhile. Ever since…
“Yugi?” There was a knock on the door and as Yugi rolled onto his stomach, his grandfather opened it.
“Hi Grandpa.”
“What are you doing still lying around in bed? It’s 11:00 already.”
“I’m sorry…”
“You spend way too much time up here. I’m giving you a job today. Do your laundry. You’ve got some things in here that I know haven’t been washed in a month.”
“What?” Yugi frowned.
“You spend every free second up here in this room, you need to get up and do something.” He walked into the room, carrying a new bottle of laundry detergent, setting it on Yugi’s nightstand. “Get out of this room and occupy yourself with something else for a little while, even just an hour. It’ll help.”
“Help what? I don’t need-“ Yugi began, somewhat defiantly.
“By keeping your mind active, by giving you something else to focus on. I know it’s hard but you can’t hole up and hide in here forever. …He wouldn’t want you to.”
“Grandpa, I’m fine.” Yugi narrowed his eyes at the last sentence. “I’ve just been kind of tired lately and resting, I’m not hiding-“
“Yugi.”
This time the elder man’s voice and eyes had softened. He didn’t need to say anything else for Yugi to know that all pretenses were useless. Yugi paused and then lowered his eyes, rolling onto his side to avoid his grandpa’s gaze. So he missed the additional flash of concern and sympathy that entered Sugoroku’s expression.
“Okay Grandpa…I will.”
There was silence in the room for another long moment, and then he heard the door shut softly.
“Do your laundry…it’ll help…” Yugi muttered to himself as he sorted darks and lights in the laundry room fifteen minutes later. “So stupid…he just wanted an excuse to make me do the laundry instead of him…”
And what was all that about ‘he wouldn’t want you to.’ Like Grandpa really thinks he’s going to speak for…
That same burst of pain from that morning interrupted before he could even think the name.
I don’t need to stay active, because I’m not avoiding anything! His sorting of clothes began to quicken in his frustration. It all happened weeks ago. Soon it’ll be a month. I’ve moved on, it’s over!
He paused in the sorting. Sure I miss him, but…but I’ve let go. I don’t have those feelings that I used to. Those are gone, they left with him. So I don’t need any help.
“That’s right.” He shook himself as he resumed his chore, speaking roughly aloud and glaring, as if the very air around him was defying him.
It’s all over with. He repeated his mantra to himself as he kept sorting. This was his grandfather’s fault. By bringing all of this back up he was making Yugi focus on something that he wasn’t supposed to be focusing on, and ruining all his hard work at not focusing.
All over…
His hand settled on the last piece of clothing in the basket, a plain black tank top. He picked it up, about to toss it into the washer with the rest of the dark-coloured clothes, when a sudden familiar scent reached him.
He lowered his arm and looked down at the shirt. Could it…?
Dropping the basket, he slowly brought the fabric to his nose and breathed in. Something inside him began to ache.
Atemu…
Yugi owned several black tank tops, he was fond of them and they were comfortable, but there was no mistake. The last person to wear this one hadn’t been himself, and he knew it.
Taking another breath he found himself burying his face into the soft fabric, trying to take in as much of the scent as he could.
It might’ve seemed so unobtrusive to anybody else. A slight dusty smell, (it had probably been lying around his room awhile) a hint of body soap, and an additional unidentifiable scent.
And it was that final one that gave Yugi the clue. For dust could come from anywhere, and they had both liked and used the same body wash. But that final scent…it was one person and one person only.
The young man Yugi had said good-bye to only weeks before…the ancient Pharaoh reborn in this world to finish what he started and fated to leave them when his purpose was served…
The one and only person Yugi had ever loved…ever would love.
“A…Ate…” He whispered into the shirt, his body trembling as memories flooded back on him.
It was him, there was no doubt. His silky clean, comfortingly warm scent that Yugi had always noticed and cherished anytime they were near each other. Atemu had been the only person in the world that was capable of smelling warm. So paradoxical, considering his dark soul and sometimes cold demeanor. Yet, Yugi had always sensed warmth and gentleness in Atemu’s body.
So strange, that a simple whiff of an old shirt could bring back memories like this, and he tried to get himself under control. The man that left this scent, the man with the warm and gentle arms that Yugi remembered so well, was gone.
A man whom Yugi had let go, released from this world himself in fact. He had loved Atemu, that was true. Loved him more deeply than he ever understood. Yet he knew it was love that was hopeless. And he had let go and moved on from it all. Yugi couldn’t start grieving again and ruin all of that now.
And clinging to a shirt was not going to bring him back anyway.
With a sigh, Yugi loosened his grip and dropped the shirt into the washer, reaching for the detergent. He measured out the right amount, and moved to pour it in.
But he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t do it. His hand shook over the open washer, the cup of liquid soap clenched in his fingers, and he couldn’t make himself pour it.
What’s the big deal? Why can’t I just…?
His eyes fell on the wrinkled black shirt on top.
As soon as I wash this…his scent will be gone forever.
Now he was just being stupid, why should he feel bad about washing a shirt? By all accounts, the shirt was dirty! If Atemu was here, he would say Yugi should wash it.
But he’s not here.
That was just it. Atemu wasn’t there. He would never be there again.
And once that shirt was washed, the last traces Yugi had of him would be gone as well.
But why should he worry about that?
After all, the remains of Atemu were fading. The cards from his deck were buried in a drawer out of sight. The missing weight of the Puzzle around Yugi’s neck became normal. The urges to attempt to talk to him had been trained away. Even this shirt, eventually, would lose his scent. Atemu was gone. The world was moving on without him. Why should it matter if one more trace of his existence was washed away now? All of the traces would vanish in the end, anyway.
I’m over it. I let him go. I don’t need this shirt, I don’t need him!
Oh it was almost amusing, how he could tell himself that, as if it really changed a damn thing.
Reaching out with one hand, Yugi picked up the garment and brought it to his chest, pouring the soap over the rest of the clothes and closing the lid. Mechanically he programmed the timer, and pressed start. Setting down the cup, he stared at the shirt for a long time, then suddenly gripped it to his chest, clinging to it with both hands, pressing it to his cheek.
“…I n-need him…” He whispered, his eyes growing wet with tears he had choked back for weeks. “I still n-need h-him…”
Time meant nothing. Words meant nothing. Yugi had tried to do the right thing, the normal thing, because he didn’t want him to see him still grieving over him after all this time. And he had tried so hard…but it was all for nothing. All the lies and distractions and sternly programmed thoughts in the world meant nothing. Even his grandfather’s well-meant help wouldn’t change what was really happening.
That Yugi had lost his only true love.
That he would never learn nor accept the idea of really letting him go.
And that even though they were fading, even though the rest of the world wanted him to move on, that Yugi still needed, desperately, to hang on to the traces that were left.
X - X - X
Notes: I realized about halfway through this that it...um...kinda resembled some other fanfics I've read...^^; I swear, I didn't intentionally steal ideas! I know Yugi's reaction to losing Yami is a popular topic anyway. I tried to go back and change things to make it more original but I was attached to some scenes and couldn't change them too drastically...eh. Well I tried.