A collection of one-shots and short-ish stories from my AU.

Now reader, before you roll your eyes and click the back button to scroll back through the other updated fics, consider that each story can be read as a standalone, and reading the other fic is not a pre-requisite to reading these. It helps, but it's not needed.

These stories will include puzzleshipping, puppyshipping, bronzeshipping, tendershipping and maybe a few hidden others as well.

Also! For those of you that have read the other story, if you have any requests feel free to leave them in the reviews. I've got a tally going of requests and I'll prioritize getting requests done… probably. (Well, besides my own preferences of course. XD)

Also, pat yourself on the back if you expressed interest or impatience to read these. Those reviews finally accumulated and forced me to write. Yay.

Now, onward!

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or Kanojo Ni Naru Hi Another!

Puzzleshipping: First Meetings Part 1

"Stand up straight Yami, you're better than this."

An order. A fact. Both of which a seven-year-old Yami was familiar with.

He got orders all the time; Eat slower, stop twitching, listen to your father. They were often accompanied by a speech about his behavior. About how he was better than others and needed to act like it.

Yami listened to his parents, obeyed every command.

He did it out of fear.

It wasn't a fear of their punishments. It was fear of their disappointment. Their withholding of praise. Praise he rarely got. Yami wasn't even sure what it was he craved from them. What he did know was that sometimes, if he went a full week of doing as he was told and not messing up, he might be recognized.

"Good. You behaved yourself perfectly in that meeting."

And Yami would glow at their praise. Work harder to meet their expectations because it was never enough. Never sufficient. An hour after receiving that praise, the glow would fade and he'd feel colder than before, desperate for more.

"Sennen's don't lose Yami. They're better than everyone else."

His family was rich. His parents sometimes took him to meetings and parties, their orders striker than usual. He would comply, knowing it was a good opportunity to show them he could be good. That he was worthy of their praise.

Most of the time he wasn't lucky.

He'd get gifts instead.

Toys and videogames littered his room, each given as a reward for his good behavior. They would entertain him for a while, their new buttons and challenges filling the unknown hole in his heart.

But then he'd beat them. They'd lost their luster and he'd feel cold again. Always cold.

"Here."

Yami took the gift from his mother, feeling numb. No matter what it contained, it wasn't what he wanted. But she was waiting for him to open it, to give an acceptable amount of praise and appreciation for the gift. So he did as he was expected.

He tore the packaging off the gift, staring at the box within. A starter kit for a game called Duel Monsters.

"Thank you, mother," said Yami, hollow. "I can't wait to play it."

His mother smiled. "I'm glad you like it. It's a popular game for boys your age. Your friends are coming over tonight. You can play it with them."

Friends. People Yami barely knew. His mother would invite families over and their children would play with Yami. He was expected to be a good host, to get along with them.

And Yami did.

He didn't even know the names of the boys that came to the house. One was his age, with misaligned teeth and a large nose. The other was two years older with some foppish hair style. They grinned eagerly at Yami who led them to the play area.

The boys tore through Yami's games without permission or asking. The ground was soon littered with game pieces and plastic, uncaring of the mess they made. Yami could hear his mother's voice in his head as they did so.

"Good manners Yami. You must always be polite, courteous and have good manners. I will not tolerate unruly behavior. You are better than everyone else, and should act like it."

He smiled to himself, uncaring if they broke anything. Because he knew better than them. He acted better. He was better.

"Hey, you have duel monsters." The older boy had found the starter kit.

"I just got it today," said Yami. "I haven't even tried it yet. Would you like to play?"

"You only got it today?" The boy gave his brother a nudge. "Man, you're so behind. I got this game like, weeks ago."

Yami's pride stirred. He didn't like their words. As if they looked down on him for not playing the game sooner. It wasn't his fault. He hadn't known about the game.

"Then let's play a round," said Yami.

The two brothers sat down, and surprisingly pulled out their own decks. Unlike Yami's games, they were careful with their own cards. Their own things. They shuffled their cards with care while Yami pulled the plastic lining off his deck.

He had read the instructions earlier today. He knew the basics of how to play. He didn't plan on losing.

"Sennen's don't lose Yami. They're better than everyone else."

Seven turns later, the older boy slammed his hands down on the ground in a fit of anger.

"That's such crap," he said. "How did you win? You've never played before."

"You just weren't good enough," smirked Yami, shuffling his cards before slipping them into his belt the starter kit had supplied. It felt good to win. To prove he was better. "You focused too much on power instead of strategy. Even a beginner like myself beat you easily."

That got the boy really mad. He stood up, his brother bristling as well.

"Yeah, well. I lost on purpose."

Yami paused. Why in the world would anyone want to lose? It made no sense. And what made no sense to Yami filled him with a terrible unease. A dread.

"Why..." he started.

"Because my parents told us to." The boy sneered, his face twisted in every undignified way possible. "They told us to pretend to be friends with you. To lose on purpose. To play to your ego. We don't actually like you Yami."

Panic flared in Yami's chest. It flared his insecurity, the whisperings he had always shoved aside. That no one actually liked him. They only saw his position. His family name. His intelligence. He, Yami wasn't what was truly important.

Even to his parents.

Yami stood up, rage making his arms tremble.

"Yeah, well I think your hair looks pretentious," he yelled with an accusatory finger. He smirked in satisfaction when he noticed the confusion on their faces. "You have no idea what the word pretentious means do you? How expected."

And then all three of them were hollering at each other, yelling personal insults.

"Your hair looks stupid!"

"You're just a sore loser!"

"You're weak and pathetic. I could take you down without trying."

"Resorting to violence. So barbaric."

"Well at least my parents love me!"

Yami froze.

Pain, unlike anything he had experienced was breaking through his heart. It stole his breath and made his ears ring. He couldn't reply, too shocked.

The boy saw the opportunity and he tore into it. He smiled in a triumphant grin, knowing he had won. Found Yami's weakness.

"That's right, your parents don't love you," the boy drilled into Yami without mercy. "I heard my parents talking about it. They see you as a tool. A doll to order around. They don't love you, they-"

"Get out!"

Yami wanted to punch. Wanted to hit and scream and kick. Bite the boys that dared insult him, dared to poke at his weaknesses. He trembled to keep it all in, but his anger was slipping through. Breaking through his walls.

"I will not tolerate unruly behavior. You are better than everyone else, and should act like it."

He cracked.

He wasn't better.

"Get out!" Yami yelled. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Fine!'

They all stomped out of the room, Yami almost chasing them out. He ran to his room, slamming the door behind them.

He collapsed onto his bed, emotions swirling through him in a tumult of anger, unease and fear. He hated these feelings. Of being so unbalanced. He needed stability. Something to hold on to. Something to save him.

He could hear voices downstairs, in the foyer. No doubt the meeting was over thanks to their disturbance.

Fear spiked through his stomach. Fear of what was to come.

His parents… what would they say? Oh, he could take a guess. He knew they'd be disappointed. Knew they'd be angry.

And that scared him more than anything in the world right now.

Someone knocked on his door.

"Come in."

Yami could barely look at his mother as Izumi walked in. She was dressed in a red cocktail dress, earrings and jewels glittering her person. She looked like the picture of perfection, of dignity and poise. The same poise she expected from Yami.

She glided through the room, face unreadable as she stood over Yami, lips tight.

"Yami, what happened?"

For a moment, Yami hoped. She hadn't screamed or admonished him when she walked in. Maybe she wouldn't be mad. Maybe she wouldn't be disappointed.

Maybe… she did love him.

"They insulted me," said Yami. "Said they were told to lose on purpose and that you didn't really love me."

He waited. Hopeful, heart on display as he admitted his fears. Identified what he was craving all along.

His parents love.

Izumi raised an eyebrow.

"That's why you got mad?" said Izumi. "For something like that? I'm very disappointed in you Yami."

The words cut into his heart.

This wasn't want he wanted. What he needed. He wanted her to deny the boys words. To say that she did love him. She did care. Instead, he got the opposite of what he wanted. What he was always afraid of.

Her disappointment.

He didn't hear what she said next. Didn't hear whatever punishment she rolled out. It couldn't be worse than her disappointment. Her anger.

"You're better than this."

An hour later, Yami as racing down the sidewalk. He'd escaped when no one was paying attention, the air burning his lungs. It felt good to run, to escape from his house with no one watching him. No one judging his every move.

Yami's feet led him to a housing community. He stared, wondering how anyone could live in such small homes. They were barely the size of his living room.

He slowed to a walk, staring at the small grounds and white fences. He'd always seen this neighborhood from afar, but never up close. It was so strange to be here. Where the common people lived.

A woman outside her house spotted Yami. She waved, smiling kindly at him.

"Hi there, are you lost?"

Yami's face turned red.

He suddenly did feel lost. Exposed in this strange place. He didn't belong here.

He ran again.

He didn't stop until he came to a park.

Yami stood at the edge, breathing hard as he leaned on the metal fence. It was a small park with swings, uneven bars and a small field for playing. A large slide set sat in the middle with a built-in tunnel underneath.

It was this tunnel that Yami headed for, desperate for some sort of shelter. Some sort of walls to help hold him in place.

As he walked, he noticed something hitting his hip.

It was the duel monster cards.

They were still there, nestled in their holder. The holder he had gotten with the starter pack.

Yami pulled them out, his anger spiking at the cards. This was all their fault. They were the reason he was so upset. Why his parents were disappointed at him. His thumb pressed so hard into the paper it crinkled, the picture of Monster Reborn forever tarnished.

Yami threw the cards into the air.

They flew in a glorious arc across the playground, scattering like the wind. They flapped, helpless as they fell without control. Nothing to stabilize them. They were at the mercy of their plight.

They did land eventually. Each of them in various states of distress. Some with their faces down, others sinking into mud. Yami just stood, unmoving even as the last card fell on his foot.

"What are you doing!?"

Yami's head whipped around.

A boy, probably no older than five stood behind Yami, mouth open in horror. Yami couldn't help staring as well, mostly because of the boy's hair. It looked very similar to his own. Unruly black that shot up in a mess of spikes, though it was tipped with purple instead of red. He even had strands of blonde fringe framing his round face.

The boy ran past Yami, barely giving him any attention as he scrambled to pick up the cards. Yami couldn't help noticing how carefully he held each one, as if they were his own.

"How could you do this to the cards, don't you know they have feelings as well?"

He even picked up the few that had fallen into the mud. He carefully wiped the muck from their faces, heedless of the mess he made on his own hands and shirt.

Once he had collected them all, he walked back to Yami, face in a determined pout.

"Please don't do that again," said the boy. "You'll hurt their feelings."

"Cards don't have feelings," said Yami flatly. "They're pieces of paper and plastic."

"No, they're not!"

The boy reached to his side, and then Yami saw the boy had his own belt. His own pack of duel monster cards.

He unclasped the top, taking the same care with his cards as he had Yami's and pulled out two specific cards. He held them up to Yami, their faces toward him.

"These two are my best friends," said the boy. "Kuriboh helps me when I'm sad, and Dark Magician gives me strength. I rely on them when I'm sad, or when I'm happy. I share a bond with them. I love these cards, and they love me."

The boy smiled happily. Another one of those true smiles.

Yami didn't like it.

A bond.

Yami's heart glowed in jealousy. He wanted that bond. That ability to rely on something. To care about it and have it care back. It filled him with such an intense need that he couldn't stand it.

And then Yami was moving before he could think. He snatched the two cards from the boy's hands and shoved him back.

If he couldn't have that bond, that stability, then he'd just have to take it for himself.

He didn't wait to see if the boy fell. He spun around and ran. Ran as fast as he could from the park, the cards held protectively against his chest.

He didn't hear if the boy cried out to him. He wouldn't have stopped anyway. It was time for him to finally feel some comfort. To finally feel loved.

Just an FYI, I'm going to be doing these in whatever the heck order I feel like. So we might be half way through a story and I'll cut to a different one. Why? Cause I can.