[fic] Just Don't Look Back, Chapter 15 - Yugioh, YamixYugi, angst/romance, R, AU
Title: Just Don't Look Back
Chapter: 15
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 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 -
---
Twice more that day Yugi had to wake Yami up from nightmares that made him moan and cry out in fear. Yugi, already seeped in worry from the article, was a nervous wreck by the time the evening rolled around. He knew it was only a cold, most likely the fever would break by the next day, but he was still scared by the nightmares and didn’t leave Yami’s side except to get more water.
In the evening, when Yami was finally sleeping peacefully for the moment, Yugi’s mother arrived on the scene.
“I heard you’ve been in here all day. Your grandfather said Yami isn’t feeling well.”
“He has a fever.” Yugi was wetting the washcloth again to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
She looked around the cluttered room. “Yugi, Yami’s got to move out of here. He can’t stay in the stock room like this.”
Yugi was shocked. He had thought that them allowing Yami to stay was too good to be true, but to kick him out when he was so ill? “Mom! He’s sick, you can’t just throw him out in this state! I won’t let you!”
Looking almost amused, she replied, “I’m not throwing him out. This stock room is drafty, he’s never going to get well if he’s in here. Besides, living down here is probably part of what caused this in the first place, it’s dusty and unhealthy. When he wakes up, bring him upstairs and he can sleep on the couch, it’ll be warmer. Your father is making soup right now, once Yami’s more comfortable he can have some. It always helped you when you were sick.”
Yugi instantly felt sorry for yelling. “Oh…I’m sorry, Mom. I just…”
“Jumped to conclusions.” She nodded.
“I’ll bring him up when he wakes up.”
“Okay, I’ll get a place made up for him on the couch. Might as well give me his bags now too, I’ll take them upstairs for him.”
Yugi gathered up Yami’s things and put them in his bags, watching her leave.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
She just smiled and kept walking.
Beside him, awoken by the heated conversation, Yami opened his eyes. “I think they’re warming up to me,” he said weakly.
Yugi laughed. “Yeah, I think so.”
- - -
Yugi’s prediction was correct. By the next day Yami was more alert, and Monday, Valentine’s Day, Yugi came home from visiting his friends (chocolate from Anzu, for himself and Yami, in hand) after school to find him working.
“Yami, is it okay for you to be up?” he asked. Yami’s face still looked somewhat pale.
“I’m fine.” Yami waved his hand.
“That’s what you said before, and then you almost passed out!”
“Well, I’m really fine this time.” Yami leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I feel much better. I had the rest of the soup and took my medicine like you told me to, and my temperature’s been normal all day.”
“Okay. Just take it easy.”
“I will. Who’s the chocolate for?”
“It’s from Anzu, she gave me some for both of us,” he said, handing Yami a wrapped bar. "She also said she hopes you feel better soon."
“It looks delicious,” Yami said. “Tell her thanks for me if I don’t get a chance to.” He shifted his weight, suddenly hesitant. “I um…didn’t have a chance to get you any candy, being sick and all.”
Yugi brightened. “Oh, good. I mean…that’s okay, I didn’t get you anything either.” Relieved that Yami wouldn’t be mad that they hadn’t exchanged chocolates, he babbled on, “Really, only women are supposed to give out chocolates and I was too embarrassed to go to the store and buy them…”
“Here,” Yami interrupted, reaching behind the counter and bringing out a single flower in a plastic water bottle. Yugi’s ramble died away.
“Yami?”
“It’s just a weed that was growing outside,” he mumbled, cheeks reddening. “I wanted to get you something…for everything you’ve done for me.”
Slowly, Yugi took the bottle from him and gazed at the flower. It looked somewhat beat up from growing by the sidewalk, but still strong, resting proudly in its humble vase. He smiled.
Anxiously, Yami asked, “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” Careful not to tip the bottle, Yugi wrapped his arms around Yami. “It’s perfect, but don’t get me anything for White Day. I want to be the one to get you a present for it, okay?”
“But you’re not really supposed to give gifts on-”
“Too bad, you’re getting a present anyway.”
Yami had to laugh. “Okay.”
Yugi smiled too, happy to see him acting normal. He’d been watching the papers diligently, and had begun to lose a little of the constant anxiety when he saw that there hadn’t been a follow-up article about Hiro. He was starting to convince himself that the police must not have gained any information. The sight of Yami going back to a more lighthearted personality made him feel even better.
But at the same time it was a little disturbing. Yami could seem perfectly fine at times, and then moments later be on the floor with that terrible expression. The nightmares had scared Yugi - he sensed that Yami was reliving something horrible, and they only reminded him that Yami had never even openly admitted to Yugi that he had flashbacks to the earthquake.
Clutching the bottle, he said, “Hey, Yami? Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“It’s sort of personal.”
His eyebrows pulled closer together, but he nodded. “That’s okay.”
“Have you…always had flashbacks to the earthquake?”
Something in his red eyes darkened and he looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yami…come on, you don’t think I really believe that you’re overheated or have a migraine or whatever excuse you come up with, do you? You don’t have to tell me exactly what you see if you really don’t want to. I just want to know if there’s anything that’s ever helped you not have them…if there’s anything I can do to make them not so bad for you.”
Yami was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, it was in monotone. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Oh…okay. I understand.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
Yugi nodded, suspecting that it was, in fact, a huge deal, but not wishing to press the point and upset him. So he just said good-bye and headed upstairs to finish up his homework, feeling more worried than ever. He set the bottle with the flower on his desk and gazed at it. The warm happiness it had brought him was crushed.
Yami has always told me everything…why has that changed?
- - -
“So,” Yugi said, standing back from helping Yami unfold the couch bed, “now that you’re not a walking furnace, do I finally get a chance to join you on your new normal-sized bed?” He asked this tentatively; it had been a few hours since the conversation over the flower and Yugi had decided this was as good a moment as any to see if Yami was out-of-humor with him.
“I don't know, all this space, it depends. Are you going to hog all the covers and scoot over to the edge so that I end up freezing?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Yugi replied, feeling relieved. If Yami was prepared to tease him back, he couldn’t still be angry.
“Then I guess I could begrudge you some room.” Yami pretended to give in, then grew serious. “But are you sure it’s safe? Sneaking down to my room was one thing, but up here anyone could walk out and catch us. I don’t think making out in bed is on your parents’ list of approved activities…much less anything more.”
Yugi faltered. He’d gotten so used to their secret midnight meetings. “I didn’t think of that.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. Yami sat down next to him, yawning.
“We’ll think of something.”
Yugi was quiet awhile longer. He glanced at Yami, hesitating.
The worst that can happen is he’ll just tell me he doesn’t want to talk about it, like he did earlier. Yami did say he’d never get upset over an innocent question.
“Yami, I know I already asked you one personal question today, but can I ask another?”
“Sure.”
“Who is Shoua?”
Within a split second, Yami shot to his feet, whirled around, and demanded, his eyes wide, “How do you know that name? Who told you it?!”
Yugi shrank back in fear, staring at him. “I…you were saying it before, when you were having nightmares during your fever. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by asking, I was just curious…”
Yami’s expression softened. “…Oh.”
Yugi still looked stunned. Yami bit his lip. “Yugi…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have shouted. Shoua…was someone I knew. A long time ago. It…was just a shock to hear his name out of the blue like that.”
“Oh…okay. That’s okay.” Yugi said quickly.
“I’m sorry for shouting. I really am.”
“It’s alright.” But Yugi’s heart was still pounding. There was no way he was about to ask if Shoua was the boy in the picture he’d found now.
Yami sat back down slowly. For a long moment they both sat rigidly, nervously, until Yami finally put his arms around Yugi, resting his head on his shoulder. His embrace was strangely sad. “Yugi, promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Yugi replied, trying to keep his tone light. “Except back to my room in a few minutes.”
“I mean don’t…don’t go away and not come back,” Yami whispered.
Yugi understood. He put his arms back around him and hugged him tightly, protectively. His mind drifted back to the newspaper article and the invisible threat it brought, and he hugged him even tighter. “I won’t. For you, I’ll always come back. But you have to promise me something too.”
“Whatever you want.”
“You’re not allowed to go away either, okay?”
Yami smiled a little. “I promise, I won’t.” He kissed Yugi’s forehead and leaned back into him again.
A few long moments later, (and after Yugi’s father came through the room and gave them a look) Yugi got up. “I ought to get to bed. And you should too, I know you haven’t slept well with that fever.”
“True.” Yami got up with him to give him one last kiss. His movements still felt strained, so Yugi, hoping to set the mood back at a normal pace, suggested,
“Perhaps if I can’t sleep though, I could come and snuggle with you?”
Yami smiled more, any trace of past anger gone from his face. “I’d like that.”
An hour later, as the rest of Yugi’s family fell asleep, a small, dark figure tiptoed down the hall and slid under the blankets on the couch. Yugi snuggled up close to Yami’s warm body, feeling Yami close his arms over him. There was no fear, no hesitation, no anxiety.
For just a moment, all was right in the world.
- - -
Yami was back in that construction yard again.
Not heading any particular direction, just walking and letting his guilt torment him.
Hearing familiar voices to his left…
“I can’t believe this bruise isn’t gone yet.”
“You got off lucky. My leg’s still fucked up, damn kid had a strong kick. Must have learned it from Atemu.”
“This is fucking pathetic, a little rich kid getting the better of us.”
The sound of their voices and the sight of the men who had ruined his life caused rage to bubble up in Yami’s throat. They rested upon the foundation of what would someday be an apartment building and compared injuries, passing a bottle between them. The more seconds that passed, the more pressure built up behind Yami’s eyes.
Yugi was lying injured in bed. Yami was forced to run from memories. But these men were still free. A few bruises weren’t punishment enough. They were not bound or poisoned by guilt or remorse…
They hurt Yugi and they suffer nothing.
He wasn’t aware of grabbing a tattered bandana, probably left by the workers, and wrapping it around his hand. He barely registered picking up the rebar. He felt its weight against his palm.
They brought back those memories, they destroyed everything…
He took another step. Overhead, a storm was moving in.
They hurt him.
He knew they must have said something…someone must have shouted, cursed, something. There were six of them, they must have tried to fight. But he heard nothing except his own breathing and own heart, and felt nothing but the weight of the weapon, swinging the rebar at the nearest man, striking again and again, not aiming, not stopping. The tightness in his chest released itself with each strike, relief replacing the stress and the momentary pleasure of relief urged him to keep swinging. He felt warm blood splatter back towards him, droplets sticking to his arms. No matter, the gathering rain clouds meant it would wash away, along with his footprints.
At last they were all immobile. Except Ezui, he was still moving. Yami saw him from the corner of his eye.
Ezui…the one who started it all.
He raised the rebar and turned toward the hated man, holding his weapon up, about to plunge it down toward his head.
Except it wasn’t Ezui.
Instead, Yugi lay there on the ground in front of him, blood running from open wounds on his legs and shoulder, dripping between his fingers as he tried to hold the largest wound shut. He looked up at Yami with a mix of hurt and betrayal in his eyes.
“Yugi-”
The rebar fell to the ground with a loud clang.
“Yugi, no…I never meant…”
Yugi just looked at him.
“You weren’t supposed to be hurt, you weren’t supposed to be here!”
The soft purple eyes were burning into him. Blood was running down Yugi’s face, as if pouring from an invisible wound in his head.
“Yugi!” His breath seized up. “No!”
He felt a sudden tightness in his shoulders and someone was calling his name in the distance, but he tried to fight it off.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, dropping to his knees. “You weren’t supposed to be hurt, I didn’t mean for this…Yugi, talk to me, say something, please!”
Yugi looked up at him, a nightmarish image of blood and fear and pain. His eyes flickered with anger for a moment and then began to go dull as his body went limp.
“Yugi! Yugi!”
“Yami! Wake up! Wake up, please!”
That tightness on his shoulders was growing and the scene was going foggy. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling sick, and when he opened them he found himself face-to-face with Yugi.
There was no blood anywhere. It was dark out. They were inside a house, not at a construction site. His skin was chilled with sweat and somebody was holding onto his shoulders. Lights were flicking on around him, blinding him. There was the murmur of confused and concerned voices in the background.
“Yami?” Yugi whispered.
Yami stared up at him for a long moment.
“Yami, it’s me.”
“Yugi…I’m sorry…” Yami threw himself forward against him, heaving with sobs. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m so sorry…” Trembling, he clung to Yugi as if he was drowning. “Y-Yugi…that wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m sorry…”
“Shh, Yami, it’s okay. It was only a dream.”
It didn’t seem to comfort him at all, he only shook harder. Yugi didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t coherent and Yugi had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t know what happened in the dream or why it had affected Yami so badly; he’d been awoken by his mumbles and jerking only moments before, just in time to get up and kneel over Yami as if he had just arrived on the scene before his family showed up, themselves alerted by the few loud cries he’d released before waking.
“Yami, it’s okay, you’re okay and I’m okay…shh…” He enfolded his shaking partner in a tight embrace and finally just held him steady.
Yugi’s family just watched silently, curiously. After a few moments they drifted away, still casting back glances. Yugi had a feeling there would be questions in the morning.
But right now he had bigger concerns.
“He hides under a calm, steady outside…”
Yugi remembered clearly Yami’s mother explaining this to him only days before. Even at the time Yugi found it confusing. He understood that Yami had to keep a lot of emotions hidden, but he’d always gotten the impression that quiet steadiness was actually part of him, it wasn’t just an act. And that maybe, if things had been different, Yami never would have developed the need to use it as a cover, because it would be the way he was naturally.
Looking down at the shaking, sobbing young man in his arms now, Yugi realized that Yami hadn’t had his usual calm, be it a façade or natural, in days. Not since Yugi had been hurt. Even at the times Yami was happy, his eyes were lacking something. He didn’t seem to want to discuss anything and his emotions seemed to explode out of him now in dangerous bursts, barely held back. That wasn’t the way he usually acted.
Yugi felt a pang of cold fear, deep down inside.
Yami was falling apart.
- - -
In the hospital, two days before Yami’s midnight outburst and just as the paper had reported, Hiroshi Yamada had woken up from a week-long unconscious state after the attack. He was the third of the group to regain consciousness, and probably the last. Of the five original survivors, one had died a few days earlier, another had gone into a non-responsive state, and the other two were alive in varying states of disability. He was the lucky one.
Monday afternoon, while he was watching a baseball game on television, a police officer came to see him.
“Yamada-san?”
“Yeah?” he said, eyes riveted on the game.
“I’m officer Seidai with the metropolitan police. I’m sorry to interrupt your rest, but I need to ask you some questions about the attack.”
“Shoot.”
Seidai settled himself on a plastic folding chair beside the bed, pen poised over a notebook. “Do you remember anything about your attacker?”
Hiro looked away, furrowing his eyebrows and wincing. “I don’t think I’ll be much help. My memories of it are just a big blur. I remember seeing someone, but…I dunno, I think he was short.” Mumbling to himself now: “The hair was familiar.”
“Short’s a start,” the officer said hopefully. “Anything would be helpful. A description, a name…” He didn’t mention fearing the wrath of his superior, or the reduced chances of ever solving the crime if they didn’t get a decent lead soon. The two other victims had been very little help; one of them didn't remember anything about himself, much less the assault, and the other could only remember the weapon. Hiro was their last shot.
“A name?”
“We have reason to suspect the attacker knew you. Is there anyone you know who had a grudge against you or Sasaki-san?”
“Some people…a lot of other drifters I guess…” Suddenly he sat bolt upright, or tried to. Pain forced him back down as he gasping, “Yami.”
“Yami?”
“Yami At…At something.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s a kid…probably late teens, has punked-out hair and creepy eyes. Used to be like us, but he got a job and a boyfriend and shit so I don’t know where he’s staying now. It was him. Can’t forget those eyes.”
“A kid?” Seidai asked doubtfully, mentally tallying up the injuries of the six men. A kid, even with a piece of thick rebar, doing that kind of damage and getting away seemed unlikely. “What do you mean, ‘like you?’ He is also homeless?”
“Was. Quite awhile too, but not anymore.”
That did make a little more sense. Anyone who grew up as a vagrant would learn how to fight and the drunks probably hadn't been the most intimidating challenge. Seidai frowned at his notebook, in thought.
“You say he’s no longer homeless though? He’s living with someone?”
“Yeah.” Hiro scowled. “Thinks he’s so much better than the rest of us all because he got a job and a place to live with this brat kid he started dating. I never liked him…Atemu! That’s his last name. His mom was a whore around here awhile back, you guys picked her up.” He paused again, then sagged back against the bed and shrugged. “That’s all I got. Can I get back to my game?”
“Yes, thank you for your cooperation,” Seidai replied, writing down the details. He was particularly pleased to know the suspect’s mother had a record. Finding him had just gotten a whole lot easier. “We’ll check it out.”
Outside the room, his superior was waiting. “Well?”
“He doesn’t remember much of the attack itself, but he’s accused a young man named Yami Atemu,” Seidai reported, cringing as the superintendent glared.
“A young man? How young are we talking here?”
“Late teens.”
“Is that some sort of joke?”
“No sir, he meant it. And if the young man in question was a vagrant for long, it’s not impossible that he knows his way around a fight.”
“Great.” Superintendent Daisuke Ito began pacing. He wasn’t sure if arresting a teenager based on the testimony of someone with spotty memory was better or worse than making no arrest at all. The prosecutor would be extremely displeased if this was the only evidence they could find. But having a suspect in custody would be better than constantly telling jeering reporters that no, they still didn’t have any leads. “Seidai,” he said, turning. “I want you to track down this Yami Atemu. Apply for a warrant and bring him into custody.”
“But we haven’t even checked if he has an alibi-”
“He’s a suspect in the unprovoked murder of two and assault of four others. If he did it, he has probably seen the papers and knows that Yamada-san is awake and talking. We have to catch him before he leaves town. If he’s innocent, no harm done. Now get that warrant and get moving.”
Seidai bowed his head. “Yes sir.”
X - X - X
Notes: It feels like it’s been an awfully long time since I updated. xD Which...I guess it was almost a month ago, so it kind of has been longer than normal. I wish I could break the mini-hiatus with a very exciting, well-written chapter, but I feel rather blah about this one. Even if it does hold several clues to future things and is therefore very important. I'm rather concerned about a friend right now, so it's tough to feel all that confident about a fic. =( I do think 16 really picks up the pace again though.
I found myself wondering if the police would use notebooks or recorders...then decided that since this is a Yugioh fic, it's obviously being set in the 1990's, when I think notebooks could still be used. So yeah. Kindaichi Case Files gets away with using notebooks. :<
Chapter: 15
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 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 -
---
Twice more that day Yugi had to wake Yami up from nightmares that made him moan and cry out in fear. Yugi, already seeped in worry from the article, was a nervous wreck by the time the evening rolled around. He knew it was only a cold, most likely the fever would break by the next day, but he was still scared by the nightmares and didn’t leave Yami’s side except to get more water.
In the evening, when Yami was finally sleeping peacefully for the moment, Yugi’s mother arrived on the scene.
“I heard you’ve been in here all day. Your grandfather said Yami isn’t feeling well.”
“He has a fever.” Yugi was wetting the washcloth again to wipe the sweat off his forehead.
She looked around the cluttered room. “Yugi, Yami’s got to move out of here. He can’t stay in the stock room like this.”
Yugi was shocked. He had thought that them allowing Yami to stay was too good to be true, but to kick him out when he was so ill? “Mom! He’s sick, you can’t just throw him out in this state! I won’t let you!”
Looking almost amused, she replied, “I’m not throwing him out. This stock room is drafty, he’s never going to get well if he’s in here. Besides, living down here is probably part of what caused this in the first place, it’s dusty and unhealthy. When he wakes up, bring him upstairs and he can sleep on the couch, it’ll be warmer. Your father is making soup right now, once Yami’s more comfortable he can have some. It always helped you when you were sick.”
Yugi instantly felt sorry for yelling. “Oh…I’m sorry, Mom. I just…”
“Jumped to conclusions.” She nodded.
“I’ll bring him up when he wakes up.”
“Okay, I’ll get a place made up for him on the couch. Might as well give me his bags now too, I’ll take them upstairs for him.”
Yugi gathered up Yami’s things and put them in his bags, watching her leave.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
She just smiled and kept walking.
Beside him, awoken by the heated conversation, Yami opened his eyes. “I think they’re warming up to me,” he said weakly.
Yugi laughed. “Yeah, I think so.”
- - -
Yugi’s prediction was correct. By the next day Yami was more alert, and Monday, Valentine’s Day, Yugi came home from visiting his friends (chocolate from Anzu, for himself and Yami, in hand) after school to find him working.
“Yami, is it okay for you to be up?” he asked. Yami’s face still looked somewhat pale.
“I’m fine.” Yami waved his hand.
“That’s what you said before, and then you almost passed out!”
“Well, I’m really fine this time.” Yami leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I feel much better. I had the rest of the soup and took my medicine like you told me to, and my temperature’s been normal all day.”
“Okay. Just take it easy.”
“I will. Who’s the chocolate for?”
“It’s from Anzu, she gave me some for both of us,” he said, handing Yami a wrapped bar. "She also said she hopes you feel better soon."
“It looks delicious,” Yami said. “Tell her thanks for me if I don’t get a chance to.” He shifted his weight, suddenly hesitant. “I um…didn’t have a chance to get you any candy, being sick and all.”
Yugi brightened. “Oh, good. I mean…that’s okay, I didn’t get you anything either.” Relieved that Yami wouldn’t be mad that they hadn’t exchanged chocolates, he babbled on, “Really, only women are supposed to give out chocolates and I was too embarrassed to go to the store and buy them…”
“Here,” Yami interrupted, reaching behind the counter and bringing out a single flower in a plastic water bottle. Yugi’s ramble died away.
“Yami?”
“It’s just a weed that was growing outside,” he mumbled, cheeks reddening. “I wanted to get you something…for everything you’ve done for me.”
Slowly, Yugi took the bottle from him and gazed at the flower. It looked somewhat beat up from growing by the sidewalk, but still strong, resting proudly in its humble vase. He smiled.
Anxiously, Yami asked, “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” Careful not to tip the bottle, Yugi wrapped his arms around Yami. “It’s perfect, but don’t get me anything for White Day. I want to be the one to get you a present for it, okay?”
“But you’re not really supposed to give gifts on-”
“Too bad, you’re getting a present anyway.”
Yami had to laugh. “Okay.”
Yugi smiled too, happy to see him acting normal. He’d been watching the papers diligently, and had begun to lose a little of the constant anxiety when he saw that there hadn’t been a follow-up article about Hiro. He was starting to convince himself that the police must not have gained any information. The sight of Yami going back to a more lighthearted personality made him feel even better.
But at the same time it was a little disturbing. Yami could seem perfectly fine at times, and then moments later be on the floor with that terrible expression. The nightmares had scared Yugi - he sensed that Yami was reliving something horrible, and they only reminded him that Yami had never even openly admitted to Yugi that he had flashbacks to the earthquake.
Clutching the bottle, he said, “Hey, Yami? Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“It’s sort of personal.”
His eyebrows pulled closer together, but he nodded. “That’s okay.”
“Have you…always had flashbacks to the earthquake?”
Something in his red eyes darkened and he looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yami…come on, you don’t think I really believe that you’re overheated or have a migraine or whatever excuse you come up with, do you? You don’t have to tell me exactly what you see if you really don’t want to. I just want to know if there’s anything that’s ever helped you not have them…if there’s anything I can do to make them not so bad for you.”
Yami was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, it was in monotone. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Oh…okay. I understand.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
Yugi nodded, suspecting that it was, in fact, a huge deal, but not wishing to press the point and upset him. So he just said good-bye and headed upstairs to finish up his homework, feeling more worried than ever. He set the bottle with the flower on his desk and gazed at it. The warm happiness it had brought him was crushed.
Yami has always told me everything…why has that changed?
- - -
“So,” Yugi said, standing back from helping Yami unfold the couch bed, “now that you’re not a walking furnace, do I finally get a chance to join you on your new normal-sized bed?” He asked this tentatively; it had been a few hours since the conversation over the flower and Yugi had decided this was as good a moment as any to see if Yami was out-of-humor with him.
“I don't know, all this space, it depends. Are you going to hog all the covers and scoot over to the edge so that I end up freezing?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Yugi replied, feeling relieved. If Yami was prepared to tease him back, he couldn’t still be angry.
“Then I guess I could begrudge you some room.” Yami pretended to give in, then grew serious. “But are you sure it’s safe? Sneaking down to my room was one thing, but up here anyone could walk out and catch us. I don’t think making out in bed is on your parents’ list of approved activities…much less anything more.”
Yugi faltered. He’d gotten so used to their secret midnight meetings. “I didn’t think of that.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. Yami sat down next to him, yawning.
“We’ll think of something.”
Yugi was quiet awhile longer. He glanced at Yami, hesitating.
The worst that can happen is he’ll just tell me he doesn’t want to talk about it, like he did earlier. Yami did say he’d never get upset over an innocent question.
“Yami, I know I already asked you one personal question today, but can I ask another?”
“Sure.”
“Who is Shoua?”
Within a split second, Yami shot to his feet, whirled around, and demanded, his eyes wide, “How do you know that name? Who told you it?!”
Yugi shrank back in fear, staring at him. “I…you were saying it before, when you were having nightmares during your fever. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by asking, I was just curious…”
Yami’s expression softened. “…Oh.”
Yugi still looked stunned. Yami bit his lip. “Yugi…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have shouted. Shoua…was someone I knew. A long time ago. It…was just a shock to hear his name out of the blue like that.”
“Oh…okay. That’s okay.” Yugi said quickly.
“I’m sorry for shouting. I really am.”
“It’s alright.” But Yugi’s heart was still pounding. There was no way he was about to ask if Shoua was the boy in the picture he’d found now.
Yami sat back down slowly. For a long moment they both sat rigidly, nervously, until Yami finally put his arms around Yugi, resting his head on his shoulder. His embrace was strangely sad. “Yugi, promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“Don’t go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Yugi replied, trying to keep his tone light. “Except back to my room in a few minutes.”
“I mean don’t…don’t go away and not come back,” Yami whispered.
Yugi understood. He put his arms back around him and hugged him tightly, protectively. His mind drifted back to the newspaper article and the invisible threat it brought, and he hugged him even tighter. “I won’t. For you, I’ll always come back. But you have to promise me something too.”
“Whatever you want.”
“You’re not allowed to go away either, okay?”
Yami smiled a little. “I promise, I won’t.” He kissed Yugi’s forehead and leaned back into him again.
A few long moments later, (and after Yugi’s father came through the room and gave them a look) Yugi got up. “I ought to get to bed. And you should too, I know you haven’t slept well with that fever.”
“True.” Yami got up with him to give him one last kiss. His movements still felt strained, so Yugi, hoping to set the mood back at a normal pace, suggested,
“Perhaps if I can’t sleep though, I could come and snuggle with you?”
Yami smiled more, any trace of past anger gone from his face. “I’d like that.”
An hour later, as the rest of Yugi’s family fell asleep, a small, dark figure tiptoed down the hall and slid under the blankets on the couch. Yugi snuggled up close to Yami’s warm body, feeling Yami close his arms over him. There was no fear, no hesitation, no anxiety.
For just a moment, all was right in the world.
- - -
Yami was back in that construction yard again.
Not heading any particular direction, just walking and letting his guilt torment him.
Hearing familiar voices to his left…
“I can’t believe this bruise isn’t gone yet.”
“You got off lucky. My leg’s still fucked up, damn kid had a strong kick. Must have learned it from Atemu.”
“This is fucking pathetic, a little rich kid getting the better of us.”
The sound of their voices and the sight of the men who had ruined his life caused rage to bubble up in Yami’s throat. They rested upon the foundation of what would someday be an apartment building and compared injuries, passing a bottle between them. The more seconds that passed, the more pressure built up behind Yami’s eyes.
Yugi was lying injured in bed. Yami was forced to run from memories. But these men were still free. A few bruises weren’t punishment enough. They were not bound or poisoned by guilt or remorse…
They hurt Yugi and they suffer nothing.
He wasn’t aware of grabbing a tattered bandana, probably left by the workers, and wrapping it around his hand. He barely registered picking up the rebar. He felt its weight against his palm.
They brought back those memories, they destroyed everything…
He took another step. Overhead, a storm was moving in.
They hurt him.
He knew they must have said something…someone must have shouted, cursed, something. There were six of them, they must have tried to fight. But he heard nothing except his own breathing and own heart, and felt nothing but the weight of the weapon, swinging the rebar at the nearest man, striking again and again, not aiming, not stopping. The tightness in his chest released itself with each strike, relief replacing the stress and the momentary pleasure of relief urged him to keep swinging. He felt warm blood splatter back towards him, droplets sticking to his arms. No matter, the gathering rain clouds meant it would wash away, along with his footprints.
At last they were all immobile. Except Ezui, he was still moving. Yami saw him from the corner of his eye.
Ezui…the one who started it all.
He raised the rebar and turned toward the hated man, holding his weapon up, about to plunge it down toward his head.
Except it wasn’t Ezui.
Instead, Yugi lay there on the ground in front of him, blood running from open wounds on his legs and shoulder, dripping between his fingers as he tried to hold the largest wound shut. He looked up at Yami with a mix of hurt and betrayal in his eyes.
“Yugi-”
The rebar fell to the ground with a loud clang.
“Yugi, no…I never meant…”
Yugi just looked at him.
“You weren’t supposed to be hurt, you weren’t supposed to be here!”
The soft purple eyes were burning into him. Blood was running down Yugi’s face, as if pouring from an invisible wound in his head.
“Yugi!” His breath seized up. “No!”
He felt a sudden tightness in his shoulders and someone was calling his name in the distance, but he tried to fight it off.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, dropping to his knees. “You weren’t supposed to be hurt, I didn’t mean for this…Yugi, talk to me, say something, please!”
Yugi looked up at him, a nightmarish image of blood and fear and pain. His eyes flickered with anger for a moment and then began to go dull as his body went limp.
“Yugi! Yugi!”
“Yami! Wake up! Wake up, please!”
That tightness on his shoulders was growing and the scene was going foggy. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling sick, and when he opened them he found himself face-to-face with Yugi.
There was no blood anywhere. It was dark out. They were inside a house, not at a construction site. His skin was chilled with sweat and somebody was holding onto his shoulders. Lights were flicking on around him, blinding him. There was the murmur of confused and concerned voices in the background.
“Yami?” Yugi whispered.
Yami stared up at him for a long moment.
“Yami, it’s me.”
“Yugi…I’m sorry…” Yami threw himself forward against him, heaving with sobs. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m so sorry…” Trembling, he clung to Yugi as if he was drowning. “Y-Yugi…that wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m sorry…”
“Shh, Yami, it’s okay. It was only a dream.”
It didn’t seem to comfort him at all, he only shook harder. Yugi didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t coherent and Yugi had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t know what happened in the dream or why it had affected Yami so badly; he’d been awoken by his mumbles and jerking only moments before, just in time to get up and kneel over Yami as if he had just arrived on the scene before his family showed up, themselves alerted by the few loud cries he’d released before waking.
“Yami, it’s okay, you’re okay and I’m okay…shh…” He enfolded his shaking partner in a tight embrace and finally just held him steady.
Yugi’s family just watched silently, curiously. After a few moments they drifted away, still casting back glances. Yugi had a feeling there would be questions in the morning.
But right now he had bigger concerns.
“He hides under a calm, steady outside…”
Yugi remembered clearly Yami’s mother explaining this to him only days before. Even at the time Yugi found it confusing. He understood that Yami had to keep a lot of emotions hidden, but he’d always gotten the impression that quiet steadiness was actually part of him, it wasn’t just an act. And that maybe, if things had been different, Yami never would have developed the need to use it as a cover, because it would be the way he was naturally.
Looking down at the shaking, sobbing young man in his arms now, Yugi realized that Yami hadn’t had his usual calm, be it a façade or natural, in days. Not since Yugi had been hurt. Even at the times Yami was happy, his eyes were lacking something. He didn’t seem to want to discuss anything and his emotions seemed to explode out of him now in dangerous bursts, barely held back. That wasn’t the way he usually acted.
Yugi felt a pang of cold fear, deep down inside.
Yami was falling apart.
- - -
In the hospital, two days before Yami’s midnight outburst and just as the paper had reported, Hiroshi Yamada had woken up from a week-long unconscious state after the attack. He was the third of the group to regain consciousness, and probably the last. Of the five original survivors, one had died a few days earlier, another had gone into a non-responsive state, and the other two were alive in varying states of disability. He was the lucky one.
Monday afternoon, while he was watching a baseball game on television, a police officer came to see him.
“Yamada-san?”
“Yeah?” he said, eyes riveted on the game.
“I’m officer Seidai with the metropolitan police. I’m sorry to interrupt your rest, but I need to ask you some questions about the attack.”
“Shoot.”
Seidai settled himself on a plastic folding chair beside the bed, pen poised over a notebook. “Do you remember anything about your attacker?”
Hiro looked away, furrowing his eyebrows and wincing. “I don’t think I’ll be much help. My memories of it are just a big blur. I remember seeing someone, but…I dunno, I think he was short.” Mumbling to himself now: “The hair was familiar.”
“Short’s a start,” the officer said hopefully. “Anything would be helpful. A description, a name…” He didn’t mention fearing the wrath of his superior, or the reduced chances of ever solving the crime if they didn’t get a decent lead soon. The two other victims had been very little help; one of them didn't remember anything about himself, much less the assault, and the other could only remember the weapon. Hiro was their last shot.
“A name?”
“We have reason to suspect the attacker knew you. Is there anyone you know who had a grudge against you or Sasaki-san?”
“Some people…a lot of other drifters I guess…” Suddenly he sat bolt upright, or tried to. Pain forced him back down as he gasping, “Yami.”
“Yami?”
“Yami At…At something.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s a kid…probably late teens, has punked-out hair and creepy eyes. Used to be like us, but he got a job and a boyfriend and shit so I don’t know where he’s staying now. It was him. Can’t forget those eyes.”
“A kid?” Seidai asked doubtfully, mentally tallying up the injuries of the six men. A kid, even with a piece of thick rebar, doing that kind of damage and getting away seemed unlikely. “What do you mean, ‘like you?’ He is also homeless?”
“Was. Quite awhile too, but not anymore.”
That did make a little more sense. Anyone who grew up as a vagrant would learn how to fight and the drunks probably hadn't been the most intimidating challenge. Seidai frowned at his notebook, in thought.
“You say he’s no longer homeless though? He’s living with someone?”
“Yeah.” Hiro scowled. “Thinks he’s so much better than the rest of us all because he got a job and a place to live with this brat kid he started dating. I never liked him…Atemu! That’s his last name. His mom was a whore around here awhile back, you guys picked her up.” He paused again, then sagged back against the bed and shrugged. “That’s all I got. Can I get back to my game?”
“Yes, thank you for your cooperation,” Seidai replied, writing down the details. He was particularly pleased to know the suspect’s mother had a record. Finding him had just gotten a whole lot easier. “We’ll check it out.”
Outside the room, his superior was waiting. “Well?”
“He doesn’t remember much of the attack itself, but he’s accused a young man named Yami Atemu,” Seidai reported, cringing as the superintendent glared.
“A young man? How young are we talking here?”
“Late teens.”
“Is that some sort of joke?”
“No sir, he meant it. And if the young man in question was a vagrant for long, it’s not impossible that he knows his way around a fight.”
“Great.” Superintendent Daisuke Ito began pacing. He wasn’t sure if arresting a teenager based on the testimony of someone with spotty memory was better or worse than making no arrest at all. The prosecutor would be extremely displeased if this was the only evidence they could find. But having a suspect in custody would be better than constantly telling jeering reporters that no, they still didn’t have any leads. “Seidai,” he said, turning. “I want you to track down this Yami Atemu. Apply for a warrant and bring him into custody.”
“But we haven’t even checked if he has an alibi-”
“He’s a suspect in the unprovoked murder of two and assault of four others. If he did it, he has probably seen the papers and knows that Yamada-san is awake and talking. We have to catch him before he leaves town. If he’s innocent, no harm done. Now get that warrant and get moving.”
Seidai bowed his head. “Yes sir.”
X - X - X
Notes: It feels like it’s been an awfully long time since I updated. xD Which...I guess it was almost a month ago, so it kind of has been longer than normal. I wish I could break the mini-hiatus with a very exciting, well-written chapter, but I feel rather blah about this one. Even if it does hold several clues to future things and is therefore very important. I'm rather concerned about a friend right now, so it's tough to feel all that confident about a fic. =( I do think 16 really picks up the pace again though.
I found myself wondering if the police would use notebooks or recorders...then decided that since this is a Yugioh fic, it's obviously being set in the 1990's, when I think notebooks could still be used. So yeah. Kindaichi Case Files gets away with using notebooks. :<