There's more to life than Duel Monsters.

Ch1: Many Meetings

Disclaimer: I don't own the cast or story from Yu Gi Oh so please don't sue me. Oh, and as this is my story, all rights reserved.

As this is my first fanfic ever, please be sparing with the criticisms.


Yugi Moto sat in class staring out of the window. Outside, the rain beat down on the concrete schoolyard.

It's a nice change from the heat of summer. Yugi thought.

During the past few weeks the heat had gotten almost unbearable, a last goodbye of summer before the autumn rains. It was so hot; Yugi even came close to considering not wearing leather!

Yugi smiled as he remembered sweating over the counter of the games shop, looking over the new cards he had bought. He wondered what other kids did in their time off.

There must be more to life than Duel Monsters. Yugi cocked his head to the side as he considered that thought. That's what Anzu always says, perhaps it is true. But if there was, Yugi had no idea what it could be.

He sighed. I really ought to concentrate. There's a tournament on at the park on Sunday and I have to believe in my deck and in myself.

He sighed again. Yugi didn't really feel like doing anything.

He stared at the rain, his thoughts as grey as the rain clouds. But if I don't duel, what else is there?

Sure, he had friends; Jounochi, Honda and Anzu. But after the heat and concentration of a duel, hanging out at the games arcade seemed like a waste of time.

Yugi sat looking out of the window, lost in gloomy thoughts.


Seto Kaiba sat in class, typing on his laptop. He was just contemplating some adjustments to his new prototype duelling disk.

As always, he was pressed for time and though stressed, he appeared calm. Seto's thoughts were always so deeply buried, that emotions did not register on his face. He knew what people called him behind his back but to him, it was irrelevant.

Satisfied, he saved the changes and sat back on his chair. The nuances and struggles of the business world were far more interesting than any hormonal teenagers.

He smirked as he thought that he was one himself. Well, I suppose there are always exceptions.

Now that he had some time to spare his thoughts flew to the tournament in the park. He would go and watch it; there was just enough time for a bit of relaxation before he had to get back to work.

Sure, he was the number one player in the world, but after a few years on top, the lack of adequate competition was beginning to sour his passion for the game.

Everything comes too easily, there isn't any challenge. But I suppose were I to lose my rating, for instance lose to a novice, I would have to build it up again.

Seto pondered that it would probably be good for him to lose a game or two, just to keep himself amused with his hobby.

Now, how am I going to lose, to a novice, and play any of the monsters in my deck? It would look fake, if all I played were magic and trap cards.

Seto smirked. And even then I'd probably win.

I guess I'll just have to find a novice that can beat a Blue Eyes White Dragon. How hard can that be?

With that thought, Seto decided that he will play in the park on Sunday. How childish that sounds. He will play and he will lose. There's nothing like playing about with other people's psyche in your spare time. In any case, it should be interesting.

Everyone needs an interesting hobby, Seto reasoned and if he could find someone to beat him in a duel, Duel Monsters might yet again be challenging.

And with that decided, he was soon lost to the world contemplating his latest takeover bid. In the back of his head, the memory that he had an upcoming meeting with the owner of Industrial Illusions, Pegasus.


Ryou Bakura sat in class, hurriedly copying down notes off the board. He didn't know how important all this was, but he was diligent in his work. Besides, the activity had the added benefit of taking his mind off his worries.

He didn't have any friends to talk to but he was sure that if he did, he wouldn't have them for long.

How do you explain to someone that you have blank holes in your memory?

How do you say that sometimes you find yourself in a place and have no idea how you got there?

How do you tell of nightmares where you wake up in a cold sweat, and drag yourself to the mirror, scared to death that your eyes have changed colour to red?

It's simple, you can't. Not if you don't want to end up in an insane asylum.

He knew he was scared. That was obvious. His hands were shaking even as he wrote. What he did not know was what he was scared of.

He took a deep breath and resumed the writing he had stopped while thinking. He kept his mind on the algebra and logarithms but alas, that would not last long, he knew. At least no one could notice him back here.

All too soon, Ryou was finished writing down all he needed to know. The teacher was still explaining but all that was just repetition.

As Ryou dropped his pen onto his book, he noticed something that sent shivers down his spine.

This is not my pen.

It wasn't. He had seen it before in a fancy shop and stopped to admire it because he could never afford it, and it was beautiful.

That's the story of my life; I can never have anything beautiful. His mum had been beautiful but she had died a long time ago, his dad was never home.

He had the flat all to himself, and though it would be a blessing for most teenagers, for him it was not. Ryou had nobody to remind him that dreams were not real, nobody who knew what went on in his head.

Hell, I don't even know what goes on in my head!

With that thought, he looked down at the pen once more. This wasn't the first time this had happened.

The shiver was back, making the hair at the nape of his neck stand up. But he knew it was useless to fight it.

The first time it had been a deck of Duel Monsters cards. There had been no repercussions and when he tried to take it back to the shop, they didn't know anything about it.

Ryou was cold with fear and tired with lack of sleep, he sighed.

Why cards? I don't duel.

Why a coffee maker? I don't drink coffee.

Why a set of books on ancient Egypt? I don't read non-fiction.

Why the bracelets, and revealing, hugging clothes? I would never wear them.

Why the pen?

He looked at the pen, lying before him, begging to be used. He thought through the other items. They were useful, he did not dispute that, but if he wasn't using them, then who was?

Ryou shivered, remembering empty coffee cups in the sink, the strange clothes in his dirty laundry basket, the half open book on Egypt by the couch and most recently, the cards laid out like a fortuneteller might do.

He shook his head to clear it. The bell was ringing, and he had yet to pack up his books. Lunch, and the usual groups, which he was not a part of.

Oh well, school is better than home any day.

The holidays had almost driven me insane with boredom; there is only so much studying the brain can handle.

What I need is a hobby, no scratch that, what I really need is a life.

And thinking back to the foreign things in his flat, he started packing.


Malik Ishtar stood watching as the rain drenched everything in sight, himself included.

Thank Ra Ishizu decided I was grown up enough to have my own life to do with as I please.

He ran one nervous hand through his wet hair, clinking his golden bracelets. So this is the school I'll be attending.

The buildings of the school stood tall and imposing as thunder cracked over his head. Through the wire fence he could see some students sitting outside in the sheltered entrance.

Malik felt the cold of the rain seeping into his bones and smiled.

The numbness induced by the cold counteracted the warm nervousness in the pit of his stomach marvellously.

I'm going to have to get some clothes. He mused, laughing, at this madness.

The last thing he remembered was wishing he could have a life of his own as he fell asleep on his bed.

He woke up in a different country, in a grey apartment block, with a short note on his empty fridge, reminding him that he was expected at school on the second day back and that he had a part time job at the arcade.

He found a plane ticket in his trashcan, a new school uniform on his couch, alongside his schoolbooks and uniform for work.

He presumed the apartment had come furnished. He had a couch, a bed, an empty fridge, a small bathroom and an empty closet.

He had found a bankcard in the pocket of his jeans along with a driver's license. The ATM printed him a receipt that stated he had spent all his money on a motorbike.

This was why Malik stood soaking in his sleeveless cotton top and jeans.

Malik laughed again, the sound lost in a crash of thunder. He glanced over at the motorbike behind him and smirked.

It is well that I studied those books on motorcycle repair and operation back home.

He mused about how much of his savings had been spent on them, and that when she had found out, his sister had been furious. It was of course no use telling Ishizu that he didn't do it.

Malik shrugged. It didn't matter now, they had been useful.

An ironic smile appeared on his face, lit by lightning. Whatever life throws at me, can be useful for later.

Malik sighed, feeling he had no control over his life. But then, he had never wanted control.

So far, it's turning out all right, isn't it?

Malik shivered and walked back to his motorcycle. School started tomorrow, and he might as well get started on labelling his stationary and browsing his books.

This was his chance for his own life; he did not want to blow it.


Yugi sat in the sheltered entrance to the school, eating lunch.

"No, don't do that Jounochi. Remember, he has a face down card on the field, it might be a trap." Anzu directed.

Honda sat across from Jounochi, trying to make his face unreadable as Jounochi glared at him suspiciously. "Let him play what he wants Anzu. He'll never learn if you keep telling him what to do"

Honda and Jounochi had wolfed their lunch down quickly, before staring a game. Anzu shrugged and went back to her lunch.

Yugi stared across the courtyard through the rain. There was a blonde boy behind the fence watching them. Yugi wondered who he was.

He doesn't look like he's from around here. He certainly isn't dressed for the weather. What is he doing here?

The boy looked behind, to what Yugi assumed was his motorbike. Yugi ate thoughtfully as the boy got on and rode off.

"Yugi, are you all right?" Anzu asked, breaking into his thoughts. "You're very quiet today."

Yugi looked over to her and smiled. "I'm fine, I was just thinking. Do you think Jounochi's ready for the tournament?"

Anzu looked over at the duel, where Honda's monster was caught in a trap. She smiled. "He certainly seems to be getting better quickly."

"Well, none of us really have much of a chance if Seto Kaiba decides to duel." Honda pointed out.

Jounochi smiled. "That jerk? I could beat him blindfolded."

Yugi shook his head, and started sorting through his own deck, deep in thought. Hmm, if Seto Kaiba decides to duel…


Seto sat on a bench behind the school. The rain that kept everyone indoors was beating on the umbrella held over his head by a 'suit'. The man's name was the last thing on Seto's mind.

His laptop was open, connected to the Internet and quickly running out of battery. Seto's frown deepened as he sorted through his e-mail.

Pegasus, the man may be the head of Industrial Illusions but he definitely has a screw loose. Seto had gotten at least three e-mails from Pegasus, each insisting on a different day and place for their meeting.

Just then his phone rang. Seto slammed the computer shut, and deposited it in his ever-present briefcase. He took out his mobile, which was playing the theme from Pokemon. He shook his head. Mokuba.

"Seto Kaiba. Make it quick."

"Sir, there is a problem with the merger."

"Well?"

"The negotiations have come to a standstill. They insist on speaking with you in person."

Seto nodded, he had been expecting this. Maintaining his cold tone, he inquired and received the particulars. "I'll be right there." He said after a moment's thought.

He dialled a number, and stated that he was to be excused from school due to family circumstances. Seto had found that one phrase to be very efficient in dispensing with annoying questions.

"I'll ask Yugi Moto to give you the work you will miss." The voice of the secretary stated before he snapped the phone shut.

Seto stood and made his way to the front gate as the bell rang.


The bell rang. Ryou smiled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. At least I look perfectly normal.

He was slightly worried about the maths quiz the teacher promised them at the end of the lesson. Ryou waited for the footsteps of excited students to fade away into the distance. Then he walked slowly back into the nearly empty classroom.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, thankyou." Ryou replied bowing to the teacher. He bent over and put away his books, giving a polite bow and "Good afternoon" as he left.

Ryou walked the quiet corridor, to the front doors. It was still raining, but most of the kids were walking home regardless, holding either umbrellas or their jackets over their heads.

He stood quietly in the sheltered entrance. I'll just wait for the rain to stop.

He smiled wryly. It's not like I have anything better to do. And I am definitely not in a hurry to get home.

After a while the rain eased up enough for Ryou to walk home. The light drizzle ensured that he was soaked by the time he got home.

When Ryou turned on the lights he was greeted by the familiar mess. The clothes that he didn't buy had commandeered his bedroom wardrobe and no matter how many times he tried, his normal clothes were always on the floor in the living room when he woke up.

The sink was full of coffee cups he never drank from and an angry note he didn't write was plastered to the fridge. Minus the obscenities it ran along the lines of:

"Wash the COFFEE CUPS!!"

Ryou sighed and arranged his clothes into a neat pile behind the couch. He rinsed the coffee cups, and loaded them into the dishwasher. He changed out of his school uniform into loose jeans, and the usual green shirt and white jumper.

Ryou hung his uniform to dry on the rack in the laundry. He unloaded the washing machine, ironed the clothes he didn't wear and returned them to his wardrobe.

He made himself a cup of hot chocolate and turned on the news. As an afterthought he checked the answering machine, surprised that there was a message…

… Yami no Bakura listened to the message from his pawnbroker telling him that the item he brought in last week had fetched a nice price.

Bakura looked down at what he was wearing and grimaced. He quickly took off the offending clothes, dumping them on the table beside the answering machine.

With quick, economical yet graceful steps he walked into Ryou's bedroom and selected some clothes out of his wardrobe.

He settled for hugging black leather pants and a crimson sleeveless t-shirt with 'devil' written across the front in gothic lettering. As an afterthought he snatched a warm black jacket from one of the hangers.

He stepped into the kitchen, automatically opening the cupboard and cursed. There were no more cups left. What's worse, he had run out of coffee. Bakura glanced at the sink, smirked, then tore his note off the fridge.

He turned off the news, downed the hot chocolate in one draught, wincing with disgust and switched off the light before he left.


Malik locked the apartment and made his way downstairs in his work uniform. It isn't that bad, he reflected, at least I get paid.

His flat was walking distance from the arcade, so he didn't take the bike. Besides, he doubted if the management would look kindly on his owning one.

The arcade was on the first floor of the mall, across from a big fountain that decorated the heart of the giant complex. It was very big and apparently very popular. Teenagers of all shapes and sizes played games, joked around and ate refreshments.

Malik spotted an authoritative member of the staff, and walked over.

"Hi." He said, feeling butterflies do summersaults in his stomach. "I'm Malik Ishtar." He clarified.

"I'm Ludo, the manager." The imposing man looked more like a bouncer than a manager. "You familiar with Duel Monsters?"

"Sure." Malik smiled, the grin the man returned was frightening.

"Well, you can referee the matches in the arena out back." He pointed behind him with his thumb. "The feed goes live to that screen over there." He added grinning. "The shift roster's in the staff room. It's sorta first come, first serve, so you'd better hurry if you want decent working hours."

Malik nodded then walked quickly, dodging teenagers, to the staffroom. It was a dismal little hole with electric lights, a drinks dispenser, fridge and a roster board. There was a mouldy old couch in the corner. It looked like the employer didn't encourage the staff to be in the staffroom any longer than necessary.

He walked over to the roster and quickly took the remaining blank spots after school. Apparently the kids working here wanted free time after school to go to the arcade. He couldn't blame them, but that meant the weekends were fully staffed, leaving him free time. I'll have to think of something to do on the weekend.

So, having arranged his working hours for after school, until ten at night every weekday, he left.

Malik made his way through the chatting teenagers to the back of the arcade, where crowds were sitting on couches in front of a screen showing the duelling arena.

Malik spotted a guy in uniform, whose nametag said 'Honda'.

"Hi there." He said. "I'm new, um you couldn't show me the way to the arena? I'm meant to be the referee."

Honda smiled. "Sure Malik, but you know, Ludo always assigns the new guys to the arena, it can be kinda hard if you don't know what you're doing. Hey, I know!" He said looking over at the cash register. "Do you want to swap? Know how to work a cash register?"

Malik smiled. "I'd love to, but you'll have to teach me."

Honda gestured for Malik to come behind the counter. "Here I'll show you. Mostly people want money changed into coins for the machines. The refreshments stand has its own cash register. Oh, and you'll get kids wanting prizes for the tokens they win." He gestured over at the prizes display. "It's kinda boring once you get the hang of it."

He probably wants to do the arena because he's bored here. Well, if it's easy then I can't muck it up. "Thanks. Are you sure Ludo won't mind?"

"Nah," smiled Honda "he never keeps track of who's doing what." And with that, he showed Malik how to open the cash register and where the prizes were kept. As soon as Malik said he could handle it, Honda left for the duelling arena.

The novelty of his job soon wore off; the customers who approached him were few and far between. Malik found himself watching the screen where the kids played Duel Monsters. He smiled at the rare interesting plays and winced at the blatant mistakes that were often displayed. Regardless of the skill of the players, and perhaps because of it's poor quality (at least for Malik's standards) his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

It's amazing how many mistakes they're making. He thought of the latest pair. It's funny but they're both so bad I have no idea who's going to win.

He smiled. Malik was so engrossed that he did not notice the white haired teenager dressed in black and red, coffee jar in hand, who leaned over to whisper into his ear.

"I'd recognise that smile anywhere." Malik jumped and stepped back from the teenager who leaned over the counter. The familiar address was surprising. He had never seen this boy who had red eyes…

…Yami no Malik noted the smile on the other boy's face, heart still racing. "For Ra's sake, thief, don't do that."

Bakura's smile widened in a grin as he leaned on the counter. He made a mock bow, restricted by his position. " Do not expect manners from a brigand, My Lord."

Marik laughed, in remembrance. "Bakura, long time no see." He said fondly, a mischievous light playing in his deep blue eyes. "I'm meant to be working, you know." He scolded.

Bakura shook his head in mock sadness. "My condolences Marik." Then, with a sudden evil grin. "I know how much you hate real work."

Marik acknowledged Bakura's point with a nod of his head, his eyes going back to the duelling screen. Something was bothering him, something he saw. "Bakura, what's with the coffee?"

Bakura stood straight and shrugged obviously uncomfortable. "Ryou Bakura doesn't sleep well."

Marik's eyes danced with a mischievous light. "Is the legendary Tomb Robber getting soft in his old age?" But the thought didn't sit well with him. In fact, it hurt.

Bakura placed the coffee jar on the counter, leaning over it towards Marik. "Don't be stupid," his eyes flashed angrily.

Marik grinned maniacally, half of his attention on the duel, half on Bakura. "What's he got that I don't?" He was getting thoroughly heartsick of the topic, Bakura's obvious discomfort and the doubts this brought to his mind.

Bakura had his head cocked sideways in thought as he studied Marik intently.

Marik smirked wickedly, as his thoughts switched with lightning rapidity. "I almost forgot. I still owe you for that incident in Spain." He glanced at Bakura, satisfied when the other blushed with the memory. "I have a card that is just begging to be in your deck."

Bakura soon had the blush under control, all business. "When do you get off?"

"Ten." Marik sighed. "It's six now." He added looking over at the digital clock on the duelling screen.

Bakura nodded. "I can't stick around. Ryou Bakura has a math test tomorrow." An idea occurred to him. "Hey, you're going to school, aren't you?"

Marik nodded, a smile growing on his lips. "Malik Ishtar has a math test tomorrow too. It's his first day." Then Marik frowned. "But Malik Ishtar does not know I have the card. Nor can he know, and he has work on weekdays."

Bakura smirked. "Now who's gone soft?"

Marik shook his head. "You're not the one who has nothing to wear outside of school and work."

Bakura studied his coffee jar thoughtfully as he fought a blush at the thought of Marik with nothing to wear. "Umm, Saturday then?"

Marik frowned at the ease with which Bakura stopped the banter. Then he reviewed his last comment. A wicked smile played on his lips. "Saturday at the latest."

Bakura looked up to find Marik staring him straight in the eyes, with a breath catching intensity. Recovering from the surprise at finding Marik unchanged despite the years apart, Bakura stared right back, matching Marik's smile. "I can lend you some clothes if you like, bring the card to my place."

Their eyes stayed locked for a bit, then Marik walked over to Bakura, who was still leaning on the counter. He leaned over so their faces were inches apart. Bakura leaned forward further and smiling, Marik leaned past him to whisper into his ear. "Call me."

He felt Bakura shiver and straightened, satisfied. He was still smiling while he noted down his number on a handy pad beside the cash register. Bakura gracefully took the offered piece of paper, and straightened. As he walked away, he slipped the number into the back pocket of his hugging black pants.

Marik chuckled, as he turned unseeing to the duelling screen…

…Malik smiled absently watching the duellists, feeling content for the first time since waking up in this country. He did not stop to wonder why as a little girl's face appeared just above the counter. The night wore on, with customers and the duelling screen as entertainment.

At ten, Honda roused Malik from a thrilling duel. "Hey, shift's over. I hope it wasn't too boring for you."

Malik shook his head. "Do you mind if we keep it like this?"

Honda grinned widely. "You've got yourself a deal, Malik."

They shook hands and walked out of the arcade towards the parking lot. Honda broke the meditative silence. "Hey, I haven't seen you around here before."

"I'm not from around here. I just moved." Malik explained "I'm starting school tomorrow." Just then, they reached the parking lot and Malik stared in awe as Honda walked over to a motorbike. "Is this yours?"

Honda nodded and the conversation became highly technical.