That Dress Looks Nice on You, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

Disclaimer: Sadly not mine

A/N: This was originally part of As Deep As the Sky, but I went far beyond the time limit. It's probably not a good thing that I've had this mental image ever since I first heard this song, way before I started writing that ficlet collection. Yuugi and Anzu are just adorable cute for their own good. Based on the song That Dress Looks Nice on You by Sufjan Stevens.

That Dress Looks Nice on You

How the heck do I get myself into situations like this?

"Yuugi, would you just hold this for a second? A smidge higher than that. There, that's perfect. Thanks."

"How much longer do I have to stand this way?"

"Not much longer." Anzu's smile was radiant. At point blank range it fired straight through Yuugi's chest like bullets from a machine gun, which exploded into warm puffs of gooey emotion as soon as they reached his heart. "Thanks so much for doing this, Yuugi. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"It's no bother," he said, doing a brilliant job of tamping down the truth beneath the lie. He was just glad neither Jounouchi nor Honda could see him now. They wouldn't understand that when Anzu asked for a favour, no matter how weird or embarrassing, it would always be 'no bother' for him. "Honest."

"I completely owe you a dinner at Hamburger Shack."

They never went to Burger World anymore – not since she worked there. The only acknowledgement Anzu gives the place now was a loud raspberry and a tugged down eyelid whenever she walked past. Hamburger Shack, its biggest rival, had become their de facto headquarters lately – helped enormously by the fact that hamburgers were Yuugi's favourite food.

Yuugi's ears perked up. "Can I have a Bacon-Meister Supreme?"

"With the works."

"I love you."

Anzu laughed, which hurt a little. She wasn't laughing at the declaration, just at the way he'd said it. Yuugi's heart convulsed with disappointment, but then she smiled at him again and the feeling dissolved once more into a puddle of happy sedative.

Anzu stuck several pins in her mouth after exhorting him to stand still. Yuugi froze, arms outstretched, and stared at a point on the far wall, which happened to contain a huge glossy picture of Cyd Charisse in a green dress. The old Hollywood actress's slicked back hair was held in place by a hat of matching green, as she pouted at the camera as though she was going to pounce and demand a dance from whoever was behind it.

Anzu's bedroom was papered in posters of famous dancers. She didn't stick to one type, either. Ballerinas rubbed shoulders with the stars of stage and screen, who in turn shared wall-space with modern hip-hop and pop artists. Anna Pavlova, Rudolph Nureyev, Mikhail Baryshnikov, Gregory Hines, Isadora Duncan, Gene Kelly – Yuugi's education in world dancers had come from watching the rotating posters in Anzu's room, locker, and blue-tacked to the inside of her desk lid. As a kid she hadn't been able to decide whether she wanted to be Ginger Rogers, Nora Kaye or Vera Maxwell, and had talked for hours, with Yuugi listening and watching the sweep of her hands as she brought him into the world so close to her heart.

When it came to Duel Monsters, she returned the favour by listening as he explained complicated gaming strategies, rules, card dynamics and anything else he could think of when she was watching him like she actually respected him. Other girls might have laughed – had, in fact, done just that until Anzu chased them off – but Anzu had never treated his passions anything but seriously. From Chinese Checkers and Jacks to computer games and playing cards, he always felt like she was listening and making room in her head to store what he said, not just hearing him while thinking of something else. It was one of the things he loved most about her.

A pin jabbed him in the leg. He yelped, falling back into the current moment with a jolt. Anzu cried out in apology.

"It's okay, Anzu. I'm fine."

"I owe you a giant strawberry milkshake with that burger. And an ice-cream sundae for dessert." She sat back on her heels and dragged the back of a hand across her forehead. "Seriously, Yuugi, you're a lifesaver with this. When I volunteered to help make the costumes for the beginners class dance recital, I never realised 'help' meant 'make them all myself'."

"I'm happy to help you. It's no bother." He'd seen those beginners. He was barely an inch taller than any of them.

Anzu tipped her head to one side and scrutinised him. "Y'know," she mused, "you actually make a pretty cute Munchkin."

Yuugi blushed furiously, the hem of the gingham pinafore dress swishing around his bare ankles.

"I could just eat you up," Anzu said in a mock syrupy voice, waggling his cheek between her thumb and forefinger, and then placing a quick peck on his reddened cheek. It wasn't a kiss that signalled she was about to fall to her knees and declare her undying love for him. It was more like something you'd get from a distant auntie who only saw you at Christmas. "Oo's a bootiful boy den? Now hold still. I'm nearly finished, and I don't think you want to lose anymore blood."

Yuugi's heart convulsed, melted, exploded and performed a spectacular jitterbug, all at the same time. He sighed, though imperceptibly, so he wouldn't get accidentally stuck with any more pins.

How the heck did he get himself into stuff like this?

He ticked his eyes down to look at Anzu's face, close to his chest but oblivious of what was going on in there, and knew exactly how.

Fin.