What was going on? The young boy had not a clue. One minute, he was asleep in his nice, soft bed, and the next he was in this unfamiliar place, scared out of his mind, with unfamiliar people hovering over him. "Who are you?" he tried to ask. His voice did not work; where was he? Had no one been caught trying to steal him from his room? Surely, people would have killed these men if they had! Of course they had, though! Home was too heavily protected for him to be snatched from his bed! And would his brother, who had always been a light sleeper, not have woken up to any noise these men made? "Gadi ga taskete..." he whimpered, although his voice still did not work. His brother would have murdered for him! These men must have somehow entered through the window and remained silent, for that was the only reasonable explanation.
"He's awake," someone hissed. Their voice was rough, gravelly. Who was this man? "C'mon, kid," the man said, holding a water to his lips. The boy opened his mouth hesitantly and groaned as the water trickled through his mouth. "How do we kill your family?" the man demanded.
The boy shook his head, refusing to tell. He would never betray Brother and Grandpa and Cousins in such a way! He would sooner die! He would prefer slavery! "No," he whispered, his voice raspy. How long had he been gone? Surely he would have been ale to speak if it had not been long!
"If you wish to go back home, you will do as I say," someone else demanded. The boy shook his head. "What is your name?" the man demanded. What was his name? He knew he was important, and he knew who his family was. But who was he? Yugi, a gentle voice answered. Right; his name was Yugi, Yugi Moto, but why was he important? Japan, the same voice replied. Yes! Yes, he was the Crowned Prince for an island country! He had to get home, had to prepare to rule! His grandfather was feeling unwell, and he had been learning how he would lead the country! His name could increase their anger, though! If he knew exactly who he was, that meant he was stronger than them!
"I-I don't know," the boy said, his voice still raspy as he spoke in stutters. How old was he? Eight, he thought. He was eight years of age, and his birthday would be a month from the day he was taken.
"Lies!" the man hissed, smacking the child. "Your life will be that of a miserable slave if you do not answer me, prince," the man hissed.
The boy would not budge; he refused to tell how to kill his family. He refused to tell them that in order to get to his brother, all they had to do was kill him. To get to his father, all they had to do was threaten Japan. To get to his mother, all they had to do was kill her sister. He refused; that was to great a betrayal! He would never...