Authoress: Elchamp (xxlinamariexx)

Rating: PG (M later)

Warnings: Swearing, that's really all for this chapter. And probably some mild confusion. :D

Author's Note(A/N): Hmmm, sooo… I've had ideas for this story stuck in my head for a couple days now and it just seems so good that of course I couldn't have not put it to good use. Before I knew it… I had a plot going! That would be wasteful! Albeit I admit, rather ashamedly, that I've never really done YuGiOh fan-anything! But I have my own little quirks with the show and most definitely with some of the characters. So, send it all to heck, why not? If I do this fic right, it might just be one of my all time best. So I can't afford to lack in this one. All my work and effort will be going into this. Lets not screw this up EL-CHAN!!

Disclaimer: Bleh. Do I really have to go through with this? Yami you do it! Yami: Wait, what? Why me?? : the fans listen to you. Yami: This is YOUR story FOR the fans. :and for my own amusement, but neither here nor there… I don't have the wafting aroma of authoritive power like you do! Yami: You make me sound like a flower… :Ooooo! You could be a rose! Yami: Lets not get into this. :a prickly Desert Rose! Yami: Anyhow…:have you ever heard of that song Yami? Yami: Elchamp owns nothing. :I dream of raiiiin! I dream of gardens in the desert sand! I wake in vaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin! Yami: All rights to YuGiOh and its characters go to whom ever owns it legally. :No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this. Yami: She is gaining no profit off of this story. :wait, wait! Don't forget the OC's! Yami: She does own any characters she creates though. Yay for her. :Ch. Ch. I don't like sarcasm Yami! Yami: Are you through singing? :… :Nay.

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Ch. 1

If Moutishi had a good reason to be sitting out in the freezing cold, looking at this stupid map, he didn't know it. Which only served to sour his mood a bit more over the past hour and a half of sitting on his bum, after the process of getting himself lost. He looked up from his map to look out into the streets of Domino.... people. That's all there ever was here. Just people. All of them were rather plain looking, he had concluded to this sometime while he stayed here. There was nothing ever exciting, nothing new, and nothing mysterious about this place. Everything was what you saw. There was no hidden meaning to anything in this city. If you wanted adventure, you went to the arcade and tried to beat the unimaginable high scores left by other kids in the past who were already grown and off to college, or whatever they were doing. No one ever beat those scores. So he never tried. There was no good reason too. He wasn't trying to prove himself to anyone, not that he knew many people here.

The kid looked back down to his map, trying decipher the mazes of streets. They all kind of blended together and no one street really stuck out from the others. Which was the exact same reason why he had gotten lost in the first place. Moutishi sighed, feeling a bit defeated and stupid, and surveyed behind him. On this side of the street there were rows of shops. On the corner there was a coffee house. From his place on the bench he could look directly into it and see behind the counter and a few carefully arranged tables on the bottom floor. You could see the beginning of the fake marble staircases, too. On the streets, cars honked and flashed pass, trying to beat the red lights. People got angry at each other when they drove too slow or too reckless. Aggravated at one another that they couldn't get home fast enough, like it was their fault in the first place. Traffic was always bad after 5 o'clock. He guessed it was just wanting to be in a more pleasant place after a tense day of work. Whatever. The traffic had finally started dieing down and diminish. Off in the distance you could hear a faint rumble of a motorcycle engine, which was only slightly odd because not many Domino people rode those, especially when it was cold. Probably just someone out-of-towner.

Moutishi reverted his attention back to the coffee house after he saw a flash of white and green behind the counter. There was that server again. The one with the white hair. He always saw him every time he sat at this bench. Not that he sat there on purpose and looked for him. That was just weird... but he did like seeing him. The server nodded politely to a departing costumer and opened the cash register. Most of the time he was behind the counter, working the cash register and other stuff. Doing whatever needed to be done and taking his time. The pre-teen was always a bit interested in his character. The white-haired teen didn't really stick out from other people in Domino but Moutishi always noticed he looked different from everyone else. He wasn't strange, just really timid and polite. Nothing really interesting.

"Vrrrrrrrrrrrroooommm. Vrrrrrrrrrroooooommm."

Looking back at the street, the same motorcycle was making quite a lot of commotion. The loud rumbling vibrated off of buildings and echoed through the allies. There were hardly any cars left from rush hour, which made the motorcycle stick out even more. If Moutishi squinted, he could almost make out the person who was riding it. But the purple leather jacket, white hat, billowing scarf, and dark sunglasses, which Moutishi vaguely wondered came in any use on a cloudy day with no chance of sun, made it hard to pinpoint any real distinguishing characteristics. Which made her --or was it a he?-- a tiny bit more interesting. Either way, they were coming down the road pretty fast...

"THREE SIXTY!"

The motorcyclist stood up from his/her seat and bounced the front tire up off the pavement, circling their motorcycle around. Why was that even necessary? Once facing back to the front, they locked their eyes on Moutishi, mouth hanging wide open.

"YOU!!"

Moutishi gaped at the motorcyclist, who seemed to defy all gravity cause they were still in a wheelie, with a confused expression.... Me?

"GRRR. YES YOU!!" the he/she pointed, answering the non-vocalized question.

Mouth still hanging open he watched as the vehicle headed straight for him. He had enough sense to get up and out of the way, making a decision right then and there that this person might just be crazy enough to hit him, but he seemed to be too slow for his own good. Moutishi obtained a mouth full of his own hair when the motorcycle blew right past him at high speed. Gagging when a blue strand found a way down his esophagus. If he was paying any attention, he could of avoided something big hitting him right in the head. Hard.

"Ahh..... Owwwww!!" Moutishi clutched his head, thoroughly off guard with the sudden blow.

"Don't Move!!" came the demand somewhere off to his right. Looking up still bent over and in pain he saw that the person once riding the motorcycle had now stopped at the curb and dismounted their bike. They seemed bent on making their point when they threw up their hand in a "halt" position that he had seen cross-guards often use to stop on-coming traffic, "Moku must not move!"

Wha…? I'm not Moku…Moutishi's pounding head had quickly accelerated down to a little less painful throbbing, which allowed him to think more clearly. But that still didn't change the fact that it hurt! This person must be confused…

"Ah. Finally. I've got you right where I where I want you," said the stranger once it was apparent that the boy was in too much pain to go anywhere. They stood up to their full height and gave him a smug grin. Moutishi was surprised to see that the motorcyclist was --in fact-- a male. A very scrawny, petite male.

The preteen sucked in a breath once his "attacker" threw off his white hat and sunglasses -which were actually goggles-, deciding that now was a better time than ever to show his face. Moutishi could at once clearly see the sandy brown shoulder length hair and deep bright lavender eyes. This guy had to be from out of town, he didn't look anything like anyone from Domino City. (1)

"Sheesh! I've been looking all over this damn city for you, Moku," his concluded foreigner complained in a whiny voice.

Moutishi finally found the courage to confront this weirdo stranger, "My name is not Moku!"

As if he wasn't even listening, or more likely ignoring him, the tanned male threw up his hands in exaggeration and started walking towards him. He could hear his combat boots crunch the snow underneath his feet as he started complaining again, "For almost three hours I've rode down every street and block I could find, searching for a glimpse of you. It wasn't very nice, Moku. You know I despise the cold!"

"How many times do I have to tell you my name is NOT Moku?!" he finally snapped. Only three minutes and he was already sick of this guy. Where had he even come from?!?

Just now taking in to consideration that the other person was speaking to him, the stranger stopped and let his hands fall to his sides. At first, he looked only slightly confused and then a look of annoyance concreted itself onto his face, "Wow, Mokuba, I didn' think you would resort to lying just to get rid of me. How pathetic for a 12-year-old kid."

And in five minutes this guy had already insulted him. He didn't know how much more of him he could stand, "I'm not lying and I'm not pathetic! What did you even hit me with?!"

"Why, I didn't hit you with anything Moku-kun," the sandy haired man said sweetly, looking abashed. But underneath his innocent façade Moutishi knew he was lying.

"Yea right," Moutishi snorted, "And quit calling me Moku! That's not who I am!"

"Jeez, did that cinderblock really hit you that hard? Don't tell me you've forgot your own name," scoffed the tanned scrambler.

"W-What?! C-Ci-Cinderblock?! Really??" the preteen shouted shockingly.

"Uggggggggggh. Just great, I hope you didn't contract a concussion, or something. I don't have the time to take you to a hospital," the impractical male started complaining again, "I have other people to see!"

"Well why in the world do you go around hitting unsuspecting people in the head with cinderblocks in the first place??" Moutishi said in his own defense, who was a little affronted by this guy's lack of sympathy, "That's not a normal thing to do y'know!"

"And ohhhh mannnn! If anyone finds out what really happened. That I lost what was once found, and now found again, but in order to be found again it must have been lost in the first place. That means I LOST IT!! They'll figure it out and my whole world is going to explode. THWAK! BANG! SPLAT!" Moutishi found it hard to follow his ranting, as he continued talking to himself, hugging his waist to protect or comfort, or something . He squatted down to his butt, wanting to role around in the snow. He looked a bit paler as if he was about to be sick, "Or maybe it's more like KABOOM!! Oh no, save me Moku-kun!"

"FOR THE LAST TIME MY NAME IS NOT MOKU!! Where did you even COME from?!?"

After that, there was silence. A light ringing was left in his ears after his enraged outburst. He started huffing, finding out his piercing cry had left him out of breath and his lungs hurt from the cold. At long last, the sandy haired male stood up. His lavender eyes scanned him from head to toe. Starting at his slightly long blue hair, his baby blue eyes, oversized winter coat, black basketball shorts, and finally his sneakers. In that instant, the preadolescent felt a little exposed.

"Heeeeeey. You're not Mokuba," the older boy enlightened.

"Well no duh! How many times have I told you that already?" Moutishi retorted. His cheeks flushed red from the way the other man calmed down so easily. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

"Have you seen another blue-haired kid around here?" asked the other in a flat pitch.

"Huh? No!" he answered hotly, not even giving the question any thought.

In a matter of seconds the short bronzed biker was back on his motorcycle with his white hat and black goggles firmly back in place. He looked back at Moutishi as he started his engine, "YOU ARE USELESS!!!"

"H-He-ey!" he cried at the insult. The backfire of the motorcycle knocked him down into the snow. When he looked back up the older boy stuck out his tongue and made a childish face at him. He proceeded to drive down the street and distance themselves, motorcycle rumbling.

In which Moutishi was left alone in the snow baffled, and a tad dazzled.

A/N: So, my beauties. I hope I haven't lost you. Though I'm not going to be worried if I did. XD In a way, this isn't suppose to be an easy story to follow. It'll become more twisted and complicated as time goes on. This chapter wasn't so bad, in my humble opinion. But please don't be discouraged! It can, and will!, only get better! :)

For some reason I can not help but think that this chapter is lacking in introducing the actual flow in the story. It's just missing SOMETHING. Arrgh. And it seems I've stolen ideas from FLCL. It WAS maybe a tiny bit intentional. I'm not ashamed. I love Fooly Cooly!!

Now as for Moutishi, yes he is my own character. Yes, he is somewhat important. Should you be discouraged by this? Why of course not! OC's never get the no. 1's in my books! So you don't have to worry. There are three original characters that have made their way in this chapter. Hmm…. I wonder if I made it obvious enough?

(1) I pray that by now you can tell which characters have entered the scene thus far. I've made at least this one painfully obvious. Just think hard. Tanned skin, lavender(purple) eyes, sandy brownish blondish hair ( I can never tell which one), motorcycle, purple jacket…. C'MON! If you've figure it out, :thumbs up: good job! If not, :DUNCE: you'll find out soon enough. :3

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