A/N: Fair warning, this is not a full-blown story. Instead, I've written out a few snippets of scenes from Finding You in Yami's perspective. I'll be posting six snippets, one every day until 19 June 2017.

Meeting
(takes place before Finding You)

Yami Atemu didn't know what hit him the first time Yugi Mutou walked into his dressing room. It was mid-January, and after the dueling break of December, he'd been shuffling through his deck, sorting through the cards as he waited for his first duel of his first competition of the year. The staging room was large, probably the largest in the arena – with a seating and dressing area, slick wood floors, and bamboo planters jutting up toward the ceiling – all of it was nod to his title – King of Games. Several feet away, a knock echoed on the door, and he called for the person to enter, glancing up.

The card in his hand crumpled forward as he looked to the man standing in the doorway, the breath stilling in his lungs. It couldn't be.

He'd been waiting his entire life to find his hikari, watched every other yami find happiness with their own. He'd waited twenty-eight years. Twenty-eight years seeking the other half of his soul, tempted by dreams of him, almost consumed by the loneliness of living without him.

And here, of all places.

"Atemu-san, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Yugi Mutou," the man – Yugi - said. He bowed, smiling as he straightened. "I'm here to escort you to your duel."

Yami hadn't realized he'd stood, but the next thing he knew, he was moving. He crossed the room in a few long strides, gripping Yugi's arm. Wide, amethyst eyes met his. It couldn't be. After all this time.

"Atemu-san..." Yugi said, smile dropping. He tucked the clipboard he was holding under his arm.

Yami stiffened at the whisper of another conscious against his, the sensation warm, like dozing in the heat of the sun.

"Are you alright?" Yugi said. He was a few inches shorter than him, and he had to lean back, tipping his face up to examine him.

He'd never been the most verbose individual, but as Yami stared down at the man in front of him, his mind was completely and utterly blank.

Yugi attempted to tug his arm free, frowning as Yami tightened his grip.

The panic that surged though him caught the back of his throat. He couldn't let him leave.

"Who are you?" Yami said. The words came out sharper than he'd intended. It couldn't be him. It wasn't possible.

Yugi frowned. "Yugi Mutou…" he said, annunciating the words as if he hadn't quite heard him the first time. "I'm here to escort you to your duel..."

"You are an employee of Industrial Illusions?"

"Yes," Yugi said, "for a few weeks now."

Yami knew he should divert his gaze as Yugi glanced away, clearly uncomfortable. He just couldn't wrap his mind around it. Around him. After all this time. His hikari.

The edge of another conscious bumped against his again, bringing with it the confusion and concern of the man standing in front of him.

Yugi glanced up at him, reattempting to tug free of his grip. "We really should get you to your duel."

It took all of his force of will to force his fingers free of Yugi's arm, and the moment his hand swung back to his side, his chest ached from the loss of feedback. Without a physical connection, their link was a thread, a feeble tie that would only grow as time continued.

He frowned as Yugi forced a smile, hating the cordial barrier erected between them. Yugi would not hide from him. Not now, not ever.

"How old are you?" Yami said, annoyed as Yugi's posture stiffened. He was the King of Games, the former pharaoh of Egypt, and he was fumbling like an untried school boy.

"23," Yugi said. "Would you mind if we start heading over to your duel? We're getting close to the start time."

"I'd prefer to speak with you instead," Yami said. He didn't care about the duel. In fact, he'd never step foot in an arena again if it would buy him just a few extra moments with the man in front of him.

"Well..." Yugi faltered, glancing down at his clipboard as if it may hold the answer to the remark hanging between them. "Unfortunately, we do have a schedule to keep."

"Where do you come from, Yugi?" The name rolled off his tongue easily. Gods, he'd waited his whole life to know his hikari's name.

He didn't miss the tightening of Yugi's grip on his clipboard, noting his hikari's reluctance to answer personal questions. The barrier grated on his nerves. You will not hide from me for long, aibou.

"Would you mind if we walk and talk?" Yugi said, glancing at his watch. "I've really got to get you to the podium."

The wave of anxiety that crashed over his conscious was tempered by another aura. Yugi. His hikari was troubled by their delay. He, however, was troubled by the idea of his hikari leaving his sight. The terror gripped his lungs, ratcheting tighter as Yugi took a step back into the hall, opening an arm to direct him to the arena.

Perhaps, this was karma, he told himself. He spent so much time chastising Bakura and Mariku on their uncontrolled actions around their hikaris, that he'd never once considered he'd be moved to take such drastic action himself. Faced with the prospect of losing the man in front of him, extreme had taken on a whole new meaning.

"I apologize," Yami said, "but I need a moment."

Yugi's frustration was a sharp jolt in his head, despite the neutral expression on his hikari's face. Ah. It seemed his hikari was practiced in measuring his emotions, though his expression wasn't enough to keep the reality of his feelings from ricocheting down their bond.

"Atemu-san..."

"Yami," Yami corrected. Honorifics served no purpose, not with them, never with them.

"I really need to get you to the duel," Yugi continued. "If it's essential, I can pull you from the slot if you're feeling unwell."

Yami frowned at the professional tone and the guarded posture his hikari had taken, subtle barriers to enforce that, to Yugi, he was nothing more than a stranger. The bite of the realization shook him. He'd spent his entire life believing he felt the pain of being separated from his other half, but to be in the same room with him, separated in every way but physically, opened every barrier he'd once erected to temper the pain, almost bringing him to his knees.

"And what will you do for me?" Yami waited, feeling his hikari's frustration swell. Come, Yugi. Come out from behind your walls.

"Excuse me?" Yugi said, and if he hadn't been paying attention, he might have missed the sharp edge to the words.

"You've asked something of me," Yami said. "What will you give in return?"

Yugi gripped the clipboard in his hand, as if readying himself to toss it at his head. "I'm just trying to get you to the arena," Yugi said. "We're five minutes late as is."

"You haven't answered my question," Yami said. His hikari's frustration spiked.

"Which was?"

"Where do you come from?" Yami said. His hikari's name was uncommon, but having a birth place to attach to it would get him much more information than a surname.

"I was born in Tokyo," Yugi said, frowning. "Now, please, can we..." He gestured out the door.

He obliged, frustrated as he felt Yugi's conscious slipping from him again. One thing was clear, his hikari had erected enough barriers that even the magic that connected them could not breach. Yami resisted the urge to reach out, taking Yugi's hand. Patience, he reminded himself, he would get nowhere if he tried rushing into his hikari's life. He'd watched the other yamis make the mistake of coming on too strong, too soon, and he wouldn't make the same error.

Instead, he'd grit his teeth. He'd allow the hollowness of their separation fuel him, waiting patiently until the day his hikari accepted the bond between them.

Yugi picked up speed as they made their way down the utility corridor to the arena, and Yami reveled in the brush of consciousness as his hikari urged him forward, annoyed by his unhurried pace. His mother, rest her soul, would have had his head for his rudeness, but he was determined to lure his hikari out of his shell, even if required sparking his anger.

"Atemu-san..." Yugi said, voice tight.

"Yami," Yami corrected again.

His hikari's anger was a bright strike in his head, and he smiled. There you are.