A/N: Gift for InTheShadowOfSignificance. Thank you for the privilege of your friendship and the aching beauty of your insights.
The smell of urine and old weed wasn't what made the day unusual.
Nor was it the cops that gave him the stink eye as he made his way over the homeless man sprawled across the steps.
Or even the higher than normal amount of used condoms and
scattered syringes after a weekend that littered the sidewalk on his way to work
Nah, Joey thought, the true what-the-fuck moment was the kid who was gawking at him like he was the fucking messiah in the subway car.
The punk didn't seem much older than fourteen, fifteen at the most. Eyes all big and googly-eyed, mouth hanging far enough open to swallow the fist he felt like shoving in if the little shit didn't stop staring.
Nah. He didn't need no jail time to put him behind making the rent or a longer rap sheet to convince his boss he wasn't worth keeping around.
No matter how much the punk was begging for it.
The kid's mouth open and shut a few times, like the goldfish Joey had right before it went belly up and Joey wondered if the kid was retarded.
Like a fucking miracle though the kid found speech, lips blubbering and voice shaking, he pointed a chubby finger at him.
"Y-you! You're Joey Wheeler! One of the of the top-rated duelists in the world! You were runner-up at Duelist Kingdom and a finalist at the battle city tournament! I'm your biggest fan!"
Well, shit. The punk knew who he was, or at least, who he used to be. He scratched at his five o'clock shadow self-consciously before jamming his hands into his coveralls.
"Yup. That's me."
The kid's eyes bulged like a bullfrog, like the friggin' messiah had just introduced himself. But shit, if he didn't feel his face beginning to flush.
"Oh my God, my friends are never going to believe this! I copied my deck to match yours exactly! I've memorized all your dueling strategies, all your signature moves, I freakin' want to be you! What are you doing here? Are you on your way to a duel?"
"Nah, kid. I'm on my way to work."
"Work?" The kid's eyebrows shot up into his pimply forehead. "But you're a duelist, you don't need to work. You make money from the prizes."
Joey didn't mean to laugh like a fucking moron to make the whole train car look at them but the kid had told him the funniest thing all week, and it wasn't even eight yet.
"Dueling don't pay what it used to squirt. You're better off becoming an accountant. I do construction now."
The kid looked like he had told him that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny were just two dirty old dudes who had a kink for dressing up around toddlers.
"But-but," the kid sputtered, lower lip wobbling and chins jiggling, "you're one of the greatest duelists in all time! You shouldn't have to work or take the subway! It's not fair!"
Joey took a long drag on the cigarette he had lit up before stepping off onto his stop, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.
"Life's not fair, kid."
It really fucking wasn't.
Not that he spent his time bitching and moaning about the raw deal he had. Joey Wheeler wasn't some pussy that thought the world owed him something.
Shit, he was lucky he had made it this far considering where he started.
He was lucky, he knew that, but fuck if he didn't think that he'd be somewhere else by this point in his life.
He remembered being as young as the kid in the subway; High-school, Duel monsters, saving the world, Yugi. It felt like it had all happened last week.
And just as quickly it had happened, it was over. Like the minute Yami had crossed over everything he had started, all the magic, all the danger, the adventure, the very stuff legends were made of, went with him.
With the Millenium items and the spirits they harbored laid to rest, Duel monsters became like any other card game. And like any other card game, it faded.
The world moved on, the spell of the Millenium items was broken, and all they were left with was a rotten pumpkin and a shattered glass slipper.
Joey scowled as he punched in and barked out 'good morning' to his boss. Like every damn morning.
Damn, if he didn't feel pathetic that bumping into the future neckbeard on the train wasn't the most interesting thing to happen to him all month.
Joey knew he was a sick bastard for thinking it but when the days seemed to just meld together until he felt like a machine that ate and watched tv until the next day started he wished the world was fucked up again.
The good times, the bad times, the terrifying times-he missed it all. The fucking rush of summoning a creature powerful enough to level a city block, the terror of knowing the hell he'd literally be in if he lost, and the pride, the pride, of knowing he was one of the only people that stood between the world and Armageddon.
Now the only thing he stood between was the lead pipe on his shoulder and coworker's ass.
Joey shifted the pipe so it wouldn't keep digging into the same spot while the guy in front of him groaned from living it up a little too much the night before.
Shit, he knew it had had to end at some point. And he was a helluva lot happier pouring concrete in his boring-ass hometown than being the mind-slave of a pissed grave keeper with daddy issues.
Not to mention the dough that he never would have earned if he poured concrete for eighty years. The cash from dueling had made the surgery possible for Ren to see, made it possible for him to send her to a fancy girls prep, into a nice, cushy girl's dorm with college scholarships she could win just for being a sweetheart.
Compared to everyone else, he was doing pretty well. Joey chowed down on his baloney sandwich thoughtfully; maybe it was a goddamn blessing in disguise that he had never gotten too good at dueling.
Yuge had never been the same after Yami had crossed over. Yugi had been the world champion, had the King of Games living in his head for years. Duel Monsters had been his fucking life.
And then he lost it all in one go. They all knew letting Yami go was for the best, that putting the Millenium items to rest was part of the natural order and shit but damn, what it had cost…
Yugi lived in his bedroom, never went out farther than inside the doorway of the game shop. Had to finish high school remotely because he wouldn't leave the house. Joey still visited him whenever he had a day off when he wasn't making the trip to see Ren or recovering from the punishment of lugging heavy shit ten hours a day, which was about once a month.
It wasn't the same though. Sure, he and Yuge were still best friends and Joey would take a bullet for Yugi if he had to but it wasn't the same. They hadn't been the same.
For fuck's sake, Bakura was so messed up from being separated from his fuckin' sadist of an other half that they had to stick him in the looney bin. At least he couldn't drink bleach while wearing a straitjacket.
Joey took a swig of his coffee, letting it slosh in his mouth before swallowing and taking another sip. The only reason he drank coffee was so he could hold something warm in his hands without looking like a jackass.
Tristan and Tea were the only ones who had made something of themselves, probably because they hadn't gotten too deep in the first place.
Tea had managed to scrounge up enough change to get herself to New York and into a dance studio and Tristan was at some officer academy for pricks who learned to be 'good citizens' and protect other good citizens from punks with eggs and toilet paper.
Joey licked his chapped lips before reaching for the chapstick Tea had gotten him on her last visit to Domino City in December. That was Tea, always the thoughtful one.
The world wasn't under the control of a freak with magical jewelry. The 'natural order' was restored and shit. Ren was living the good life and he would be too eventually if he could suck it up for the next couple of years.
So what if he and his friends and drifted and he had to work his ass off in a shitty part of town like every other schmuck. He had had a good run.
'It coulda turned out a lot worse' was Joey's last thought, as he felt someone smash a brick to the back of his head.