Shirogane Aoi spent the ride to Domino City making a list of things she needed to accomplish after she arrived. By the time her train pulled into the station, she had narrowed said list down to four necessary tasks: find a job, find a place to live, acquire more clothes (the few articles in her bag would only go so far), and save "him."
The first two things were most essential in terms of building a life for herself. The third she could put off until her situation stabilized. The fourth was the most obscure, because she didn't know who needed saving or why; she had only a gut feeling and a crumpled note scrawled in her own hand:
Save him.
Aoi had no memory of writing the words, but they resonated with something deep inside her, a sourceless imperative that she could neither dismiss nor trust completely.
Mysteries aside, Aoi felt determined: she would start anew in Domino City. No longer would she go through life like a ghost, silent and half-seen. She would become a part of other people's lives, and they a part of hers. She would matter to someone.
Her determination wavered a bit in the heart of Domino's crowded train station. The sheer number of people around her proved daunting. Aoi had never seen so many strangers in her life. Clutching her shoulder bag to her chest like a shield, she eventually broke from the flow of foot traffic, paused, and breathed slowly until she could better process her fast-moving surroundings.
Domino Central Station boasted sleek, modern lines and vivid colors. Technology abounded: large touchscreens displayed up-to-the-second departure and arrival schedules, while 3-D televisions played various sports matches, news shows, and advertisements. Nearby, one particular technological marvel had attracted a large crowd. A Kaiba Corp. holographic machine projected life-size, semisolid images of popular Duel Monsters into a roped-off area. The monsters bellowed battle cries and interacted with onlookers before vanishing in pixilated flourishes. A knight's horse pawed the ground and snorted; a furry round creature cooed and nuzzled at a little girl's cheek. Charmed and impressed, Aoi approached the exhibit, gasping as a sea-serpent swam into the world and out of it again. Closer to the hologram, she could feel the air stir as the creature rushed by.
A father smiled at Aoi and shifted behind his son so that she could move closer to the front of the crowd. She returned his smile and accepted the better vantage point. More monsters appeared and disappeared as she watched: a giant moth, an armored warrior, a grinning, animated pumpkin. Then came the Dark Magician, one of the few characters Aoi could name. The mage leapt from a black hole in space. He spun his staff, which emitted a shower of arcane sparks, drawing excited oohs from the crowd. Looking over the audience, the Magician's black-lined eyes found Aoi's; they widened slightly. Then the projection flickered abruptly out of existence.
A sussurus of confusion traveled through the crowd as long seconds passed without another monster taking the Dark Magician's place.
"Is it broken, Daddy?" the little boy next to Aoi asked his father.
No sooner had the child spoken than the holographic machine whirred loudly back to life. Light poured from it, flooding the station concourse. The audience flinched away-all except Aoi, who stared mesmerized as the light resolved into a creature larger than any that had come before it.
Too big to land in the roped-off perimeter, the Blue-Eyes White Dragon hovered in midair. Its armored scales shone like platinum, and its wingbeats shook the ground beneath Aoi's feet. Aoi expected it to roar, but instead the dragon lowered its massive head, drawing so close that Aoi could see herself reflected in its peerlessly blue eyes. Independent of her own will, she reached out a shaking hand towards it, even as her mind screamed, no, stay back!
All the lights in the train station, including those in the hologram, went out before her fingertips could brush the dragon's nose. Panic erupted around Aoi, who remained frozen with her hand outstretched until someone knocked into her, making her stumble. She came back to herself as her hands and knees hit the ground. Heart pounding, sweat beading her brow, she scrambled to her feet and fled.
Aoi made it out of the train station before security or the Domino City Police could establish a perimeter around it. The open air felt blessedly cool, and the afternoon sky was pale and overcast. Aoi crossed the traffic-jammed street in front of the station, weaving between stopped cars, and escaped down a side alley perpindicular to the road.
Domino's great forest of skyscapers and high-rises swallowed her as she ran. Her lungs burned, but somehow, stopping to catch her breath felt like the more untenable option. Aoi rushed blindly onwards for some minutes, not caring where she ended up so long as she got away. Eventually, however, she could run no further. Aoi slowed to a stop on a quiet stretch of sidewalk, her hands braced against her knees as she panted for air. She felt dizzy and sick, and the more she thought about it, foolish. Why had she run? Whatever significance it might have had, she shouldn't have allowed that sourceless, nameless panic to rule her.
You're a thinking human being, not an animal, she reminded herself. You shouldn't be afraid of shadows.
Whether justified or not, fear and flight left Aoi so weak that she didn't have the energy to search for a public bench. She sat down against the nearest building's yellow outer wall, adjusting her long skirt to preserve her modesty as she pulled her knees up to her chest. The sweat began to dry on her exposed skin. She shivered and closed her eyes. Just a few minutes. I'll rest here for a few minutes, and then I'll find somewhere to spend the night, she promised herself.
The next thing she knew, a concerned voice was addressing her: "Miss? Miss, are you all right?" it asked.
Aoi startled awake from a dream about flying. She registered a figure standing over her and instinctively shielded her face with one arm.
"I'm sorry!" she gasped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-I'll leave!"
The figure took a step back, holding up its hands in a placating gesture. "Please don't worry. I'm not scolding."
Aoi rose quickly to her feet, but a rush of vertigo overtook her, forcing her to lean heavily against the wall and shut her eyes.
"If you don't mind my saying so, Miss, you look unwell," the figure continued. "Won't you come inside for a moment so you can rest properly?"
As her head began to clear, Aoi looked at the speaker properly for the first time: a stocky old man in green overalls regarded her in turn. Aoi hesitated before replying, unsure that she'd heard him right,
"I...I can't. It's a kind offer, but I couldn't impose..."
Not far off, a bell jingled, accompanied by the sound of a door opening and shutting. A short-haired woman rounded the corner of the building.
"Otousan, what's going on?" she asked the old man as she approached. She wore an apron with a turtle on the front and carried a broom in one hand.
"Ah, Omocha. This young lady seems ill. I was just inviting her into the shop to rest and perhaps to share some tea."
Aoi expected the woman to protest, but if her father's friendliness towards a perfect stranger troubled Omocha, she didn't show it as she gave Aoi a once-over.
"She does seem under the weather. You weren't behaving inappropriately towards her, were you, otousan?" Omocha queried, fixing her father with a stern look.
The old man laid a hand over his heart. "I take exception to that question! Is it inappropriate for me to seek out innocent companionship, since both my daughter and grandson are too busy nowadays to take tea with their own flesh and blood?"
Omocha rolled her eyes. "I came to find you because your tea is ready, and it'll get cold soon. Drink it alone or with company, it doesn't matter to me, but don't waste it." So saying, Omocha turned on her heel and left the way she'd come.
Her father gestured after her. "See how cold my daughter is, Miss? You'd be doing me a favor by stopping in; it's not an imposition at all."
Aoi stood frozen with indecision. As she frantically tried to interpret the strange man's kindness, he winked at her conspiratorially. Something about the gesture assuaged Aoi's nerves. She nodded.
"Excellent! Follow me," beamed the old man. He led her around the building and through the green front door. "Welcome to Kame Game Shop," he intoned.
Aoi took an instant liking to the place. The store's furniture and fixtures seemed well-worn but well cared for; the walls could have used a fresh coat of paint, but the glass display cabinets and tiled floor all but sparkled. Gaming paraphenalia crowded every available rack, shelf, and surface. Duel Monsters occupied the most real estate by far, but to Aoi's relief, Kame Game Shop eschewed electronic merchandise in favor of cards and other physical products. Overall, the store exuded a warmth and friendliness that left Aoi feeling she had made the correct choice in accepting the old man's invitation.
Whatever the old man read in Aoi's face as she surveyed the shop's interior made him grin and puff out his chest with pride. "I've run this store for over thirty years now. I'm Mutou Sugoroku, by the way," he said, bowing to her.
Aoi returned the polite gesture. "My name is Shirogane Aoi. It's good to meet you."
Mr. Mutou flipped the sign hanging in the shop door from open to closed. Aoi followed him past the checkout counter and into a storage room at the back of the building. From there they ascended a staircase to the second floor, which apparently served as the Mutou residence. Aoi noticed a kitchen, a living area, and a narrow hallway that must have led to the family's bedrooms.
Mr. Mutou brought Aoi into the kitchen, where someone-likely Omocha-had set a table with a steaming teapot, two cups, and a plate of cookies. Mr. Mutou grumbled at the last despite their appetizing appearance.
"Sugar-free," he harumphed. "Disgraceful! Please sit, Shirogane-san; you look dead on your feet."
"First, may I use...?" Aoi trailed off, embarrassed. Mr. Mutou took her meaning, however, and pointed her to the restroom down the hall.
Aoi used the facilities and washed her hands. After splashing some water on her face, she cupped her palms beneath the tap and drank deeply from them once they filled. She repeated the process three or four times, swallowing the water in messy, desperate gulps. The tepid liquid tasted sweeter than anything she could remember.
"You won't swindle water out of us!"
Aoi coughed and sputtered, straightening up from the sink. She knew she had not heard the words, exactly, but they had manifested so suddenly and clearly in her mind that she reflexively looked around for their source. Finding nothing, she pressed her fingers to her temples and breathed deeply. My imagination...
A minute later, Aoi emerged from the restroom looking marginally less haggard than when she'd entered it. While her long hair tended to fall in her face no matter what, the comb in her shoulder bag had smoothed it closer to respectibility, and she'd pinched a bit of color back into her pallid cheeks. She returned to the kitchen just in time to catch Mr. Mutou dumping the plate of cookies into the trash can.
"I poured the tea," he informed her, utterly unselfconscious.
"Th-Thank you." Aoi took one of the spots at the table, placing her shoulder bag on the floor beside her. For lack of anything better to do with her hands, she wrapped them around her teacup, enjoying its warmth.
"I can't serve a guest sugar-free cookies. I refuse!" Mr. Mutou rummaged about in the refrigerator before emerging with a plastic-wrapped plate in each hand. "A special guest deserves the fancy shortcake I made my grandson steal from a rich-people banquet."
"I don't-"
"Please, I insist!" Mr. Mutou unwrapped the cake slices and retrieved a pair of forks from a drawer. He placed one of each in front of Aoi. The cake itself looked a bit squashed, but it smelled enticingly of strawberries and handmade whipped cream. Aoi's mouth watered, but she waited until Mr. Mutou began to eat before taking a bite herself. She chewed the cake as slowly as possible, then stared down at it, unmoving, after she swallowed her first mouthful.
"What do you think?" asked the shopkeeper.
"It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," said Aoi wonderingly.
Mr. Mutou's bark of laughter made Aoi jump a bit. She flashed him a small, nervous smile.
"I'm glad you like it," he chortled. "Eat up, eat up!"
They ate their food in companionable silence. Omocha soon joined them; she scolded her father for over-indulgence at first, but, allowing him to pacify her with the remainder of his cake slice, she eventually sat down at the table to have an afternoon snack herself. Aoi observed the Mutous' dynamic with equal parts amazement and trepidation. She felt as though she had stumbled upon someone else's campfire in the middle of a cold, dark night; the soothing warmth she felt from Mr. Mutou and his daughter warred with a persistent sense that she did not belong among them.
"Get out of here! You're a bad omen! You'll bring disaster!"
Aoi forced herself not to look about as the words rang through her head. She gripped her teacup tighter; her hands trembled as she brought it to her lips.
"-gane-san?"
Mr. Mutou was looking at her. Aoi lowered her teacup quickly.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't listening," she admitted.
"That's all right. I was only saying that you don't seem like a native to Domino City. Is that so?"
"I just arrived today."
"Today... Did you come by train? You weren't at the station during that earlier blackout, were you?" asked Omocha.
Mr. Mutou's eyes widened. "Blackout?"
"I was," Aoi answered Omocha.
"You poor thing! No wonder she looks so shaken, otousan. Apparently the entire Central Station lost power. Everyone panicked and stampeded-I think at least seven people are in critical condition right now." Omocha crossed her arms, anger furrowing her brow. "They're saying on the news that a Kaiba Corporation machine might have caused all the trouble. Yet another thing we can thank that horrible boy for!"
"Now, now, Omocha," murmured Mr. Mutou. "Bitterness won't help."
"Neither will ignoring all the damage that young man has caused over the years! I can't believe nobody has taken him to task yet. Even you give him a pass, otousan! I've half a mind to get Yugi to teach me to duel just so I can beat him my-"
Mr. Mutou cut his daughter off gently. "We were speaking to Shirogane-san," he reminded her.
Omocha flushed. "Oh. Yes. Please forgive me, dear. Our family has a bit of an unpleasant history with Kaiba... Corporation. It's hard to hear about something like this without remembering."
"I-It's fine," said Aoi, awkward in the face of the older woman's righteous anger and polite apology. "Please don't worry about it."
"Were you harmed in the train station, Shirogane-san?" asked Mr. Mutou.
"No," said Aoi. An idea occurred to her to help explain her lack of money and means. "But I lost my purse in the confusion. It had all of my savings in it, and my I.D. and cell phone."
The lie made her gut churn, particularly when Omocha fixed her with a sympathetic look, exclaiming, "How horrible!"
Mr. Mutou folded his arms contemplatively. "I'd like to say that somebody will turn your things over to the lost and found, but so many out-of-towners pass through the station every day. It's difficult to say whether they'll do the neighborly thing, particularly during an accident."
"A good many of our own citizens aren't particularly neighborly, either," added Omocha. "It's gotten better in recent years, but we still have more than our share of bullies in this city."
"You shouldn't give up, though, Shirogane-san. Check back at the station once all the trouble passes; there's still a chance someone turned your purse in," Mr. Mutou attempted to reassure his guest.
Aoi lowered her head to stare at the tea leaves in the bottom of her cup. A strange weariness gripped her. Slowly, quietly, she spoke to no one in particular:
"I came to Domino City to build a new life. I wanted to prove to myself that I could stand on my own two feet, that I could find a place for myself in the world. I wanted to make meaningful connections with people and live without fear. I even thought I might save..." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter, because the first time the world challenged me, I didn't do the brave thing. I just ran away. Now I wonder if I'm cut out for the path I've chosen. Maybe it would be better if I'd never left where I was."
Humiliatingly, tears began to pool in Aoi's eyes. She blinked rapidly to drive them back, while Omocha and Mr. Mutou exchanged glances over her head.
"There, now, you musn't think that way," Omocha began.
Her father broke in: "I know how you feel, Shirogane-san."
Aoi did not trust herself to look at the old shopkeeper as Mr. Mutou folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.
"Losing important things...that can make us feel quite lost as well. Just recently I lost one of my most important treasures. I'm not ashamed to say its disappearance broke my heart. Everyone gets a bit sentimental in their old age, and as a collector, I'm worse than most. In any case, I felt quite unworthy after I realized I'd lost it. I questioned myself harshly and nearly made myself ill looking for it. But then my grandson said something to me that made a lot of sense. He told me that the more I focused on what I'd lost, the less clearly I'd be able to see the treasures and opportunities that might appear in my future.
"I valued my treasure because it reminded me of the friend who gave it to me, but I realized then that I'd been avoiding that same friend because I felt so ashamed of having lost his gift! I prioritized a memory over an experience I could have had in the present. That's the height of foolishness. It's never too late to make new memories, or to change into a better version of yourself.
"So, Shirogane-chan, you may have lost some important things today and missed an opportunity to be brave, but there's no guarantee that you won't find those things again or encounter opportunities to make yourself proud in the future."
Omocha added, "I wouldn't even consider today a total loss if I were you. You survived a frightening experience. That alone takes strength."
"Yes, experiencing difficulty can teach us things and increase our courage. That's part of why people enjoy games; they're miniature challenges that help us grow."
"It's always about games with you, otousan," sighed Omocha, annoyed.
"I won't apologize for it! Games put that cake on the table!" Mr. Mutou exclaimed.
"Anyway," Omocha continued, returning her attention to Aoi, "you also said that you wanted to make connections with people, didn't you, Shirogane-san? I don't want to presume, but I'd say you've made a connection with us, at least."
Mr. Mutou nodded. "If you don't have any friends or family in the city, you're welcome to stay the night here. We'll see what we can do about finding your things tomorrow."
This final kindness proved too much for Aoi: the tears finally escaped, flowing freely down her face. She covered her mouth with one hand to keep from sobbing . Overwhelmed with gratitude, she could only nod, shoulders shaking. The fact that neither Omocha nor Mr. Mutou drew attention to her undignified display of emotion made her cry even harder. Wordlessly, Omocha passed Aoi a clean paper napkin, and she buried her face in it gratefully.
"Thank you," she rasped when she'd recovered her voice. "Thank you, Mutou-san, Mutou-san."
"Call me jii-chan," said Mr. Mutou, and Aoi began to cry all over again.