It was quiet in his room, something he was unsure of wanting. There was no rain or clouds obscuring a glowing moon.
He twisted, cheek pressed into his pillow, arm tucked tight against him like a shield to his thoughts. The awkward positioning didn't make him feel any better.
There was almost no room for his heart to ruminate in its turmoils when he closeted himself so tightly against his other self. Still, memories leaked through the cracks. He scrunched his eyes tighter, unwilling to relieve the memories of a distant island, the bright lights and smell of disinfectant and heartbreak.
A sigh pushed through him. It made him burrow deeper, clutch his blanket closer, as the air in his lungs compressed into a hiccuped sob.
Throwing himself back to squint at the ceiling through blurred eyes was as much an effort in throwing off the half-lived images as an attempt in relieving the crushing tightness of his chest. The change wafted a breeze that seemed to chill him to the bone.
He ignored it.
Voices slid through his mind, tugging on the sharp fractures that were the memories of his recent adventure. Taunts echoed, and made him clutch the blanket tighter, knuckles white.
His eyes burned, and with a sharp sniffle - stop it, Yugi, don't be such a baby - flung an arm over his eyes. The pressure helped, and he breathed in the smell of detergent gratefully.
Moments passed in a slow, sluggish motion. It took effort, but each breath came easier, the crushing weight on his chest releasing him inch by inch.
This time when he sighed, it was one of relief instead of an encroaching nightmare. Uncurling his hand ached, and he grimaced at the stiffness, joints popping as he wiggled his fingers experimentally.
The lull was soothing. He shifted again, facing the golden box that his grandfather had given him. There was nothing in it but his cards, of course, the real treasure already assembled what felt like ages ago.
He traced the eye carved on the box carefully, lips twitching as a phantom tingle raced to his finger.
"You're gonna get me into a lot of trouble, aren't you?" He murmured, hand falling away from the artifact. It had certainly proven so, and his eyes reflexively flicked to the shadows in the corner of his room.
There was no sign of motion that would have disturbed the motion that they were anything other than a play of the light filtering into his room. He supposed they had no reason to be, when he wasn't in any sort of danger.
Mou hitori no boku was probably asleep, anyway.
His lips finally formed into a quiet smile. It was habit to reach far back into himself, feeling the new tendril that a quick tug on would warrant summoning his other heart.
The gentle mental caress proved nothing but the quiet lull that was a deep slumber. You're exhausted, he thought to himself, placing a hand over his own heart and pondering the quiet thumping, I can't blame you. All that dueling would wear anyone out.
As he finally drifted off to sleep, smile on his face, he almost missed the gentle tug of reciprocation.