"What are you doing there, partner?" Yugi had been sitting by his desk and quietly distracting himself with something for some time now, and I couldn't help but start feeling intrigued. "Is something the matter?"
"Oh," he sighed and then smiled at me. "It's you, other me. I just remembered it's been a while since I played with this…"
"Hm? What is it?"
When I got closer, I was finally able to see what kept him so entertained. Yugi was playing with a few weird pieces scattered all over his desk, while also reading what seemed to be a book of instructions of some sort. With another quick glance, I counted seven pieces with different shapes: five triangles, one square and one parallelogram. My confusion was probably very obvious, because he smiled again just as I raised an eyebrow.
"That's a tangram," Yugi explained. "It's a Chinese puzzle. This one was one of the very first games my grandpa gave me!"
I could see the excitement light up in his eyes as he talked. And, after he mentioned how old it probably was, I noticed the pieces looked somewhat worn out. I was sure the color used to be much brighter than what I was seeing now, but they were still intact and in perfect shape, without even a scratch. I wouldn't expect any less from Yugi's kind, careful heart. He always took good care of his friend, even those who weren't exactly human.
"What are you doing with it?" I asked even though I could figure out by now. I still wanted to her what he had to say; the excitement in his voice when he talked about the games he loved was magnetic sometimes.
"Do you see the shapes pictured here?" he pointed at the instructions. "The goal is to find a way to draw them with the pieces we have, and we can't overlap them. There are lots and lots of shapes to put together, and some of those might look the same, but they aren't so we have to pay attention. Do you want to join me, other me?"
He looked at the book and started flipping through the pages, humming cheerfully. Maybe Yugi didn't notice, but his words were already in plural form even before he made the invitation, and I didn't have to answer before he pointed at one of the shapes he chose.
"This bunny looked simple enough, but I got stuck last time I tried," Yugi informed me when he finally chose a shape. "Maybe I could start with this piece…"
"Try this one, partner."
"Okay!"
We exchanged a quick nod and he focused his attention on the puzzle again. I could feel his enthusiasm as if it could flow through his gestures and in every word he spoke, and I knew he wouldn't give up until we found a solution. That thought simply wouldn't cross his mind even though he didn't seem to realize just how brave he could be, or how far he's come.
"This looks like it!" Yugi exclaimed, visibly excited. "I think it fits! Hmm… how about that one?"
"Check this one, partner," I encouraged him.
I took a step to reach for the piece, but he was faster. And then, as his hand just passed through the place where mine would be, I finally remembered it was pointless. My body wasn't a physical presence anymore, and it hadn't been for three thousand years now, but sometimes I'd still forget it. Sharing this space with my partner became so natural that the reminder felt out of place sometimes, and this was one of these moments. When his hand just slipped through where mine would be, I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like if we'd touched.
Would it feel warm and soft?
If I could hold his hand, would our fingers fit together like these puzzle pieces?