There's not much more to life than Duel Monsters.
Ch1: Many, Many, many … many Meetings
Disclaimer: I don't own the cast or story from Yu Gi Oh. I don't reserve any rights on this story.
I would like to thank goldensprite for letting me use and abuse her story, thx sis.
WARNING! For any of you Yu Gi Oh fans, please don't hate me for what I am about to do to the characters during this story. I repeat if you get offended easily and don't enjoy the butchery of Yu Gi Oh characters and events, don't read this story, or print it out and burn it, to relieve the pain.
I restate I have the full permition of the Author of "There's More To Life Than Duel Monsters" to kidnap and butcher her story until I am satisfied with the bleeding remains.
During the past few weeks the heat had gotten unbearable, a last goodbye of summer. The heat was going to Yugi's head; He even considered wearing normal clothes or even better, going Nude.
Yugi smiled as he remembered sweating over the counter of the games shop, looking over the new check out chic and of coarse the new cards he had bought that day.
He wondered what other kids did in their time off, probably something more productive then freaking out girls with a long trance, nah probably not.
There must be more to life than Duel Monsters. Yugi cocked his head to the side as he considered that thought. That's what Anzu always says, perhaps it is true. I cant believe I just thought that. Anzu must be carzy. Its just too hot today…
He sighed. I really ought to concentrate. There's a tournament on at the park on Sunday and I have to believe in my deck. Pray to my deck. Worship my deck. Perhaps sacrifice will help, like a rat. Maybe Grandpa
Yugi didn't really feel like doing anything apart from thinking about that counter girl.
He stared at the rain, his thoughts as grey as the rain clouds then it hit him. Its raining… I really should complain about the ventilation. The heaters probably busted, again. This school is cheap.
I really should pray to my deck.
Yugi sat looking out of the window, lost in gloomy thoughts.
Seto Kaiba sat in class, typing on his laptop. He was just contemplating some adjustments to his new prototype duelling disk, or as he liked to call it, "The Disk Of DOOM". But his advertising department had talked him out of it
As always, he was pressed for time and though stressed, he appeared calm. Seto's thoughts were always so deeply buried, that emotions did not register on his face. He knew what people called him behind his back but to him, it was irrelevant. Well it is sort of irrelevant, well yeah… I don't need any friends! I've got Mokuba!
Satisfied, he saved the changes and sat back on his chair. The nuances and struggles of the business world were far more interesting than any hormonal teenagers, himself included.
Now that he had some time to spare his thoughts flew to the tournament in the park. He would go and watch it; there was just enough time for a bit of relaxation before he had to get back to work. By relaxation he meant sabotaging peoples decks, crushing hopes and dreams. The water works were amazing.
He was the number one player in the world and he wanted to keep it that way.
I mean I didn't want to have some religious punk in leather beating me in a game. Screw sportsmanship.
Everything comes easily and that's the way he liked to keep it
Seto pondered about letting one of these wannabes become confident and have a challenge for once. But then he scrapped that thought, Number 1 forever.
Seto smirked. And even fairly, I'd probably win.
With that thought, Seto decided that he will play in the park on Sunday. How childish that sounds. He will play and he will win. Why? Because he was a bastard and wanted to see little kids cry. The more the merrier. But one would do.
Everyone needs an interesting hobby, Seto reasoned and if he could find someone to beat in a duel that won't cry, Duel Monsters might yet again be challenging.
And with that decided, he was soon lost to the world contemplating his latest takeover bid. In the back of his head, the memory that he had an upcoming meeting with the owner of Industrial Illusions, Pegasus.
Ryou Bakura sat in class, hurriedly copying down notes off the board. He didn't know how important all this was, but he was diligent in his work. Besides, the activity had the added benefit of taking his mind off his worries and the people he swore were watching his every move through hidden cameras in the classroom.
He didn't have any friends to talk to but he was sure that if he did, he wouldn't have them for long. Those fiends would kill them.
How do you explain to someone that you are a target, because you know the answer to the meaning of life? It's 42.
How do you tell of nightmares where you wake up in a cold sweat, and drag yourself out of bed, scared to death that you will see that mark on your door? A blood red cross.
It's simple, you can't. Not if you don't want to end up in an insane asylum.
He knew he was scared. That was obvious. His hands were shaking even as he wrote. What he did not know was what they looked like, what they would do. He knew where they were hiding, in those shadowy corners.
He took a deep breath and resumed the writing he had stopped while thinking. He kept his mind on the algebra and logarithms but alas, that would not last long, he knew. At least no one could notice him back here.
All too soon, Ryou was finished writing down all he needed to know. The teacher was still explaining but all that was just repetition.
As Ryou dropped his pen onto his book, he noticed something that sent shivers down his spine.
This is not my pen. I must get rid of it… NOW!
That's the story of my life; I can never have anything beautiful, because beauty is only skin deep. His mum had been beautiful but she had died a long time ago, his dad was never home. I wonder if he killed her? He must have.
He had the flat all to himself, and though it would be a blessing for most teenagers, for him it was not, he had to keep his eyes wide open for any hidden cameras. Ryou had nobody to remind him that dreams were not real, nobody who knew what went on in his head. Except for them.
Hell, I don't even know what goes on in my head!
The shiver was back, making the hair at the nape of his neck stand up. But he knew it was useless to fight it.
The first time it had been a deck of Duel Monsters cards. There had been no repercussions and when he tried to take it back to the shop, they didn't know anything about it.
Ryou was cold with fear and tired with lack of sleep, he sighed.
Why cards? I don't duel.
Why a coffee maker? I don't drink coffee.
Why a set of books on ancient Egypt? I don't read non-fiction.
Why the bracelets, and revealing, hugging clothes? I would never wear them.
They are spying on me.
They'll know if I get rid of the pen. It'll have to wait.
He looked at the pen, lying before him, begging to be thrown at the student in front of him. He is a spy.
He thought through the other items. They were useful, he did not dispute that, but if he wasn't using them, then who was?
Ryou shivered, remembering empty coffee cups in the sink, the strange clothes in his dirty laundry basket, the half open book on Egypt by the couch and most recently, the cards laid out like a fortune-teller might do.
He shook his head to clear it. The bell was ringing, and he had yet to pack up his books. Lunch, and the usual groups, which he was not a part of.
Oh well, school is better than home any day. Its safer to be in crowd. Or is it?
The holidays had almost driven me insane with worry; there is only so much studying the brain can handle.
What I need is a hobby, no scratch that, what I really need is my life back.
And thinking back to the foreign things in his flat, he started packing.
Malik Ishtar stood watching as the rain drenched everything in sight, himself included.
Thank Ra Ishizu realized I was grown up enough to move out.
He ran one nervous hand through his wet hair, clinking his golden bracelets. So this is the school I'll be attending.
The buildings of the school stood tall and imposing as thunder cracked over his head, its timing was perfect. Through the wire fence he could see some students sitting outside in the sheltered entrance.
Malik felt the cold of the rain seeping into his bones and smiled.
The numbness induced by the cold counteracted the warm lunch in the pit of his stomach marvellously. Or was it that white "magic powder" he'd ingested.
I'm going to have to get some clothes. Or at least pay the heating bill. He mused, laughing, at this madness.
The last thing he remembered was wishing he could have a home of his own as he fell asleep in someone else's bed after a night on the town.
He woke up in a different country, in a grey apartment block, with a short note on his empty fridge, reminding him that he was expected at school on the second day back and that he had a part time job at the arcade.
He said he didn't mind putting me up for a night, looks like he gave me more than I bargained for. I mean a good nights sleep, sure but an apartment, job and a move in country. That guy sure was nice.
He found a plane ticket in his trashcan, a new school uniform on his couch, alongside his schoolbooks and uniform for work.
He presumed the apartment had come furnished. He had a couch, a bed, an empty fridge, a small bathroom and an empty closet.
He had found a bankcard in the pocket of his jeans along with a driver's license. The ATM printed him a receipt that stated he had spent all his money on a motorbike. The drugs and booze he didn't question but a bankcard? Oh well more booze.
Drugs one day, Alcohol the next! Hey Pressto no addiction. I just need to keep this job, meh my charming looks will win 'em over. Money don't grow on trees but drugs sure do.
Meanwhile Malik stood soaking in his sleeveless cotton top and jeans.
Malik laughed again, the sound lost in a crash of thunder. He glanced over at the motorbike behind him and smirked.
Gee it was easy to drive one of those things. One good nights dream and woof I know. Or maybe not woof, more of a SNAP!
Malik shrugged. Well I guess I better take it for a drive… Grand Theft Auto Style. Maybe not now.
A maniacale smile appeared on his face, lit by lightning. Man storms around here are funny. Precision timing and all.
Malik sighed, feeling he had no control over his life. But then, he had never wanted control. Only satisfaction.
So far, it's turning out all right, isn't it?
Malik shivered and walked back to his motorcycle. School started tomorrow, and he might as well get started on labelling his stationary and browsing his books, or what was left of them.
This was his chance for a hell of a lot of fun; he did not want to blow it.
Yugi sat in the sheltered entrance to the school, predicting the cards on the field. Pray, pray, pray… I really should get round to it. Trap Card!
"No, don't do that Jounochi. Remember, he has a face down card on the field, it might be a trap." Anzu directed.
Honda sat across from Jounochi, trying to make his face unreadable as Jounochi glared at him suspiciously. "Let him play what he wants Anzu. He'll never learn if you keep telling him what to do"
Honda and Jounochi had wolfed their lunch and then Yugi's down quickly, before staring a game. Anzu shrugged and went back to her lunch.
Jounochi attacked, and cried out "Not FAIR!" as Honda revealed his trap card.
Too easy. Yugi turned away.
Yugi stared across the courtyard through the rain. There was a blonde behind the fence watching them. Yugi wondered what it was, the scenery was getting boring and a new face would be a nice distraction. To his disappointment it was a boy.
He doesn't look like he's from around here. He certainly isn't dressed for the weather. What an idiot.
The boy looked behind, to what Yugi assumed was his motorbike. Yugi thought cool as the boy got on and rode off.
"Yugi, are you all right?" Anzu asked, breaking into his thoughts. "You're very quiet today."
Yugi looked over to her and smiled. "I'm fine, I was just thinking. Do you think Jounochi's ready for the tournament?" Gee she could look better with a little make up. And a new do.
Anzu looked over at the duel, where Jounochi's monster was caught in a trap. She smiled. "He certainly seems to be getting better quickly." Ah blinded by love, or lust. What am I talking about it's Jounochi, but then I am not Anzu. Thank the Deck.
"Well, none of us really have much of a chance if Seto Kaiba decides to duel." Honda pointed out.
Jounochi smiled. "That jerk? I could beat him blindfolded."
Yugi shook his head, and started sorting through his own deck, deep in thought. Hmm, if Seto Kaiba decides to duel… I need to pray more, the deck may fail me. Our most holy Deck who art in the heart for ever, True be thy game… He began the prayer.
Seto sat on a bench behind the school. The rain that kept everyone indoors was beating on the umbrella held over his head by a 'suit'. To Seto's specific instruction the umbrella was not sheltering the 'suit' from the rain. But the man and his name was the last thing on Seto's mind.
His laptop was open, connected to the Internet and quickly running out of battery. Seto's frown deepened as he sorted through his e-mail. Spam, Pegasus, Spam… Spam, Pegasus, Spam… For Gods Sake Pegasus!
Pegasus, the man may be the head of Industrial Illusions but he definitely has a screw loose. Seto had gotten at least three e-mails from Pegasus, each insisting on a different day and place for their meeting. Mind you, Seto did put Pegasus on his junk mail filter, also only reading the last message that he sent helped Seto slow down his increasing irritation.
Just then his phone rang. Seto slammed the computer shut, and deposited it in his ever-present briefcase. He took out his mobile, which was playing the theme from Pokemon. He shook his head. Mokuba, I swear if it was anyone else they would be dead.
"Seto Kaiba. Make it quick."
"Sir, there is a problem with the merger."
"Well?"
"The negotiations have come to a standstill. They insist on speaking with you in person."
Seto nodded, he had been expecting this. Maintaining his cold tone, he inquired and received the particulars. "I'll be right there." He said after a moment's thought.
He dialled a number, and stated that he was to be excused from school due to family circumstances. Seto had found that one phrase to be very efficient in dispensing with annoying questions. After all he couldn't have everyone killed.
"I'll ask Yugi Moto to give you the work you will miss." The voice of the secretary stated before he snapped the phone shut. Yugi… sounds familiar, probably one of those fanatics.
He made a mental note to call up his company and fire the suit holding his umbrella, for he had snuck under it during his conversation.
Seto stood and made his way to the front gate as the bell rang.
The bell rang. Ryou smiled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. At least I look perfectly normal. Well… I think so… I hope so…
He was slightly worried about his latest panic attack. They were getting worse, before they only extended to his dad being after him. Ryou waited for the footsteps of excited students to fade away into the distance. Then he walked slowly back into the nearly empty classroom. Those spy cameras still haunting his thoughts. He suppressed them.
"Feeling better?"
"Yes, thankyou." Ryou replied bowing to the teacher. He bent over and put away his books, giving a polite bow and "Good afternoon" as he left.
Ryou walked the quiet corridor, to the front doors; all the time urging those thoughts back. It was still raining, but most of the kids were walking home regardless, holding either umbrellas or their jackets over their heads.
He stood quietly in the sheltered entrance, his body tensed as all his concentration was commandeered by those renegade thoughts. His eyes staring into the rain.
After a while the rain eased up as did Ryou's mental grip. I must get out of here! The light drizzle ensured that he was soaked by the time he got home.
When Ryou turned on the lights he was greeted by the familiar, yet irrational sense of safety. He systematically checked the many and diverse range of locks, ensuring all of them were locked. Half of them weren't. Ryou didn't notice and on his second trip round he relocked everything from habit.
The sink was full of coffee cups he never drank from and an angry note he didn't write was plastered to the fridge. Minus the obscenities it ran along the lines of:
"Clean the clothes, Wash the COFFEE CUPS! Do it it or you die, I am watching you"
I better get on with it. He watches over me, he keeps me safe…
Ryou eagerly arranged his clothes into a neat pile behind the couch. He rinsed the coffee cups, and loaded them into the dishwasher. He changed out of his school uniform into loose jeans, and the usual green shirt and white jumper.
Ryou hung his uniform to dry on the rack in the laundry. He unloaded the washing machine, ironed the clothes he didn't wear and returned them to his wardrobe. Calm washed over him.
He made himself a cup of hot chocolate and turned on the news. As an afterthought he checked the answering machine, surprised that there was a message…
… Yami no Bakura listened to the message from his pawnbroker telling him that the items he brought in last week had collectively fetched a nice price. He didn't remember stealing them, He remembered giving them to the pawnbroker however not stealing them but then again most things seemed to disappear down his pocket without him even noticing it.
Bakura looked down at what he was wearing and grimaced. He quickly took off the offending clothes, dumping them on the table beside the answering machine including the three locks that had appeared in his pocket; naturally they were unlocked and gleamed like gold from afar.
With quick, economical yet graceful steps he walked into Ryou's bedroom and selected some clothes out of his wardrobe.
He settled for hugging black leather pants and a crimson sleeveless t-shirt with 'devil' written across the front in gothic lettering. Dropping the items his hands had tried to pocket while walking to the cupboard. As an afterthought he snatched a warm black jacket from one of the hangers.
He stepped into the kitchen, automatically opening the cupboard and cursed. There were no more cups left. What's worse, he had run out of coffee. Bakura glanced at the sink, smirked, then tore his note off the fridge.
He turned off the news, downed the hot chocolate in one draught, wincing with disgust and switched off the light before he left.
Malik locked the apartment and made his way downstairs in his work uniform. It isn't that bad, No its wonderful, he reflected, my first real job! I wish I had a camera.
His flat was walking distance from the arcade, but he still took his the bike. Why? Coz it made him look cool! Plus he already had a few so it seemed a good idea.
The arcade was on the first floor of the mall, across from a big fountain that decorated the heart of the giant complex. It was very big and apparently very popular. Teenagers of all shapes and sizes played games, joked around and ate refreshments. He was certain they all saw his marvellous entrance, the guys looked jealous, hell all of 'em loved him. He just knew it.
Malik spotted an authoritative member of the staff, and strode over.
"Hi." He said, feeling all warm and tingly, the guy looked cute. "I'm Malik Ishtar." He clarified.
"I'm Ludo, the manager." The imposing man looked more like a bouncer than a manager, but that just added to his appeal. "You familiar with Duel Monsters?"
"Sure." Malik smiled, the grin the man returned was frightening. To all but Malik, he knew deep down, really deep down the guy was crushing on him. Malik didn't feel like encouraging him any further, it would make working here a drag.
"Well, you can referee the matches in the arena out back." He pointed behind him with his thumb. "The feed goes live to that screen over there." He added grinning. "The shift roster's in the staff room. It's sorta first come, first serve, so you'd better hurry if you want decent working hours."
Malik nodded then walked quickly, the teenagers parting on his way to the staffroom. It was a dismal little hole with electric lights, a drinks dispenser, fridge and a roster board. There was a mouldy old couch in the corner. It looked like the employer didn't encourage the staff to be in the staffroom any longer than necessary. Time to make this pad my own. First order of business, stock the fridge and spike the drinks dispenser. Next time I sneak in lots of booze.
He strolled over to the roster and quickly took the remaining blank spots after school. Apparently the kids working here wanted free time after school to go to the arcade. He couldn't blame them, but that meant the weekends were fully staffed, leaving him free time. I'm sure I can think of something to do on the weekend…
So, having arranged his working hours for after school, until ten at night every weekday, he left sniggering and plotting his weekend party fest.
Malik made his way through the besotted teenagers to the back of the arcade, where crowds were sitting on couches in front of a screen showing the duelling arena.
Malik spotted a guy in uniform, whose nametag said 'Honda'. He is too easy. I'll play the DID (damsel in distress).
"Hi there." He said. "I'm new, um you couldn't show me the way to the arena? I'm meant to be the referee."
Honda smiled. "Sure Malik, but you know, Ludo always assigns the new guys to the arena, it can be kinda hard if you don't know what you're doing. Hey, I know!" He said looking over at the cash register. "Do you want to swap? Know how to work a cash register?"
Hook line and sinker. Malik smiled. "I'd love to, but you'll have to teach me."
Honda gestured for Malik to come behind the counter. "Here I'll show you. Mostly people want money changed into coins for the machines. The refreshments stand has its own cash register. Oh, and you'll get kids wanting prizes for the tokens they win." He gestured over at the prizes display. "It's kinda boring once you get the hang of it."
Score! I could so this with my eyes shut. "Thanks. Are you sure Ludo won't mind?"
"Nah," smiled Honda "he never keeps track of who's doing what." And with that, he showed Malik how to open the cash register and where the prizes were kept. As soon as Malik said he could handle it, Honda left for the duelling arena.
The novelty of his job soon wore off; the customers who approached him were few and far between. They are just shy.
Malik found himself watching the screen where the kids played Duel Monsters. He smiled at the rare interesting plays and winced at the blatant mistakes that were often displayed. Regardless of the skill of the players, and perhaps because of it's poor quality (at least for Malik's standards) his eyes stayed glued to the screen.
It's amazing how many mistakes they're making. He thought of the latest pair. It's funny but they're both so bad I have no idea who's going to win.
He smiled. Malik was so engrossed that he did not notice the white haired teenager dressed in black and red, coffee jar in hand, who leaned over to whisper into his ear.
"I'd recognise that smile anywhere." Malik jumped and stepped back from the teenager who leaned over the counter. Whoa! I thought they liked me but this is just over kill. This boy who had red eyes… I am certain I never drank with him, and never ever slept with him, I'd remember…
…Yami no Malik noted the smile on the other boy's face, heart still racing. He barely kept himself from reflexively rearranging the offender's face. "For Ra's sake, thief, don't do that."
Bakura's smile widened in a grin as he leaned on the counter. He made a mock bow, restricted by his position. " Do not expect manners from a brigand, My Lord." Marik checked his pockets and extended a hand over the counter.
Bakura handed over the keys as Marik laughed, in remembrance. "Bakura, long time no see." He said fondly, a mischievous light playing in his deep blue eyes. "I'm meant to be working, you know." He scolded.
Bakura shook his head in mock sadness. "My condolences Marik." Then, with a sudden evil grin. "I know how much you hate clean work."
Marik acknowledged Bakura's point with a nod of his head, his eyes going back to the duelling screen. Something was bothering him, something he saw. "Bakura, what's with the coffee?"
Bakura stood straight and shrugged obviously uncomfortable. "Ryou Bakura doesn't sleep well."
Marik's eyes danced with a mischievous light. "Is the legendary Tomb Robber getting soft in his old age, or are you just torturing your vessel into paranoia again?" But the thought didn't sit well with him. Why didn't he ask me to torture that lovely delicate mind?
Bakura placed the coffee jar on the counter, leaning over it towards Marik. "Don't be stupid, he does it himself," his eyes flashed angrily.
Marik grinned maniacally, half of his attention on the duel, half on Bakura. "Why do you protect him so?" He was getting thoroughly heartsick of the topic, Bakura's obvious discomfort and the doubts this brought to his mind. He could really go for a gruesome murder just about now.
Bakura had his head cocked sideways in thought as he studied Marik intently.
Marik smirked wickedly, as his thoughts switched with lightning rapidity. "I almost forgot. I still owe you for that incident in Spain." He glanced at Bakura, satisfied when the other blushed with the memory. "I have a card that is just begging to be in your deck."
Bakura soon had the blush under control, all business. "When do you get off?"
"Ten." Marik sighed. "It's six now." He added looking over at the digital clock on the duelling screen.
Bakura nodded. "I can't stick around. Ryou Bakura has a math test tomorrow, I don't want ta push him over the edge." An idea occurred to him. "Hey, you're going to school, aren't you?"
Marik nodded, a smile growing on his lips. "Malik Ishtar has a math test tomorrow too. It's his first day." Then Marik frowned. "Damn I think it's a drugs day. Good thing Malik Ishtar does not know I have the card. Nor will he know if I have anything to do with it, he has work on weekdays."
Bakura smirked. "Now who's gone soft?"
Marik shook his head. "Just practical he'd pawn it to feed his bank account. I mean he'll literally try to feed the ATM the money. I want to conserve as much money as possible, I have nothing to wear outside of school and work."
(And here we make a nose dive into Bakura's POV )
Bakura studied his coffee jar thoughtfully as he fought a blush at the thought of Marik with nothing to wear, it even eclipsed the image of Malik shoving money into the credit card slot of an ATM. "Umm, Saturday then?"
Marik frowned at the ease with which Bakura stopped the banter. Then he reviewed his last comment. A wicked smile played on his lips. "Saturday at the latest."
Bakura looked up to find Marik staring him straight in the eyes, with a breath catching intensity. Recovering from the surprise at finding Marik unchanged despite the years apart, Bakura stared right back, matching Marik's smile. "I can lend you some clothes if you like, bring the card to my place."
Their eyes stayed locked for a bit, then Marik walked over to Bakura, who was still leaning on the counter. He leaned over so their faces were inches apart. Bakura leaned forward further and smiling, Marik leaned past him to whisper into his ear. "Call me."
He felt Bakura shiver and straightened, satisfied. He was still smiling while he noted down his number on a handy pad beside the cash register. Bakura gracefully took the offered piece of paper in exchange for the cash from the now open cash register, and straightened. As he walked away, he slipped the number into the back pocket of his hugging black pants, beside the pad and pen.
Marik chuckled, as he turned unseeing to the duelling screen…
…Malik smiled absently watching the duellists, feeling sober for the first time since waking up in this country, it was horrible. He did not stop to wonder why he smiled as a little girl's face appeared just above the counter. The night wore on, with customers and the duelling screen as entertainment.
At ten, Honda roused Malik from a thrilling duel. He just couldn't stay away. "Hey, shift's over. I hope it wasn't too boring for you."
Malik shook his head. "Do you mind if we keep it like this?"
Honda grinned widely. "You've got yourself a deal, Malik."
They shook hands and walked out of the arcade towards the parking lot. Honda broke the meditative silence. "Hey, I haven't seen you around here before."
"I'm not from around here. I just moved." Malik explained "I'm starting school tomorrow." Just then, they reached the parking lot and Honda stared in awe as Malik walked over to a motorbike.
"Is this yours?" I knew he'd love it.
Malik nodded and the conversation became highly technical, on Honda's side while Malik's mind acted like a sponge. He really hated being sober.