This fic was written for the YGO Mini Gift Exchange on AO3.
Turns out "mini" is not a concept I'm capable of understanding.
I will upload three chapters a day. There will be 48. If there are any reviews, I will respond to them in the final chapter.
Upon turning to leave his apartment on the way to work that morning, Yuugi Mutou noticed that the front door wasn't locked. It'd been left that way all night supposedly, and that was an alarming thought. With a heavy sigh, Yuugi turned and headed to the kitchen, trying to sound entirely normal whilst he removed the largest knife from the cutlery block on the counter. He then proceeded to creep around and check every concealed space in his apartment he imagined was large enough to hide a man.
"So, I'm going to be late," said Yuugi fifteen minutes later as he called his grandfather. "I, uh, forgot something at home."
"If you keep showing up late to work, I'm going to have to find someone else to cover the morning shift, Yuugi. I can't stock the storeroom myself anymore."
"But mornings are my best time, Grandpa. I won't have time to work on the game proposal I'm presenting to the heads of project development at Parchís Games next week if you schedule me for afternoons. I need the mornings."
"And I need someone here actually moving these boxes and organizing shipments before we open in forty-five minutes."
"I'll be there. I'll get everything put away."
"I can't even sweep with all these boxes."
"Just be patient, Grandpa. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Yuugi was there in thirty minutes, an actual inversion of the timetable he'd proposed. His grandpa didn't hesitate to point this fact out, but Yuugi took it with a good-natured smile as he haphazardly threw boxes onto storeroom shelves. His grandpa tutted as he turned away, saying such a bad job was going to do more harm than good in the long run, but Yuugi placated him with the typical, empty promises to sort the newly arrived items later when the morning rush died down.
The rush didn't ever die down. The whole city knew Kame Game, as well as the identity of the young man who tended the shop counter weekday mornings from half eight until noon. A line began even as Yuugi swung around the back of the shop, late to work as always. It was lucky no-one realized he no longer lived upstairs, as they were never looking for him when he arrived. Their eyes were directed firmly at the door and the façade, waiting to see the outline of Yuugi's distinctive hairstyle appear in the shadowy interior of the shop. Normally, it was just his grandfather's very similar hair they saw for the first half hour.
"Really? This entire shipment is Magic & Wizards cards?" asked Yuugi as he glanced under the flaps of a few of the opened boxes. "Is that all we ever sell anymore?"
"It's all anyone ever buys anymore," said Sugoroku. He took up his broom and began to sweep over the area where Yuugi had cleared the boxes.
"But there's…so much more to gaming than this," said Yuugi with a sigh of disappointment. "Don't you ever get tired of the fact that all anyone ever cares about is dueling around here?"
"This is my shop, Yuugi. I only care if they stop buying their games here and start patronizing your friend's shop. The clown one. The guy with a shop in every damn neighborhood of this entire damn city."
"Don't pretend you don't know perfectly well it's called Black Clown," said Yuugi. He laughed as he stacked the box he was holding in the back of the shop with its brethren. "And anyway, he hasn't built a shop in our neighborhood."
"He's just waiting for me to die. He knows it'll look bad to run me, Yuugi Mutou's poor grandpa, out of business. Although to tell you the truth, he very nearly already has."
"It's not personal, grandpa. He's a businessman. Plus, he's given you enough stock options to set you up for life in case business goes down. He's not trying to turn you out onto the street."
"Yeah, well, he can get the hell off my turf."
"He's not on your turf. He's made a very clear point not to touch your turf."
"He's everywhere else, though, isn't he? Ever since he got KaibaCorp behind him, he's got the whole city in his hands. This is the only neighborhood shop left, Yuugi. We're part of a dying institution. Literally. As I said, once I'm gone…."
Yuugi answered this with a noncommittal shrug, as there was literally no other suitable response to the tendency of elders of a certain age to talk about nothing but what shit the world would instantly become upon the advent of their deaths. Someone began knocking on the window impatiently, and Yuugi checked his watch to see that exactly one minute had passed from their scheduled opening time. He shook his head and went to unlock the door, smiling cheerily as he welcomed the first patrons in.
"Good morning! We have a tiny shop here, so let's all work together!" recited Yuugi as he ushered people through the door so they wouldn't stop too long to stare at him in befuddled amazement. He was after all, the King of Games in the flesh. "Form a line along the delineated pathways on the floor. The further browsing gallery will be open to five patrons at a time. Purchases should be made in a timely manner, as after fifteen minutes you will be asked to step out and make room for the next customer. Good morning! We have a tiny shop here, so let's all work together! Form a line…"
Once ten people had made their way into the shop, five in line while five others were free to browse, Yuugi resumed his station at the counter. A few cameras flashed, a small percentage of the pictures Yuugi knew were being taken of him as he went about restocking some displays within reach. Grandpa, ever-vigilante with his eyes as well as his broom, continued to sweep incessantly around the roving patrons at the front of the store. A bell rang at the cash register, and Yuugi hurried over from sorting packs of cards to take the first purchase (and first selfie) of the morning.