A/N: I really don't know what the hell I'm writing. But I won't write a chapter fic about this because it's not worth it. I don't like vampire stories. This is my twist on them. I'd rather explore the normalcy of a life being a vampire than the dark and evil parts. Because I just can't imagine Yugi and Yami being dark and evil. Just doesn't pan out for me.

Summary: Yugi, a "young" and rather irritable vampire, sets out to find the meaning of life, a good chicken salad, and the reason peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth.

Lullaby, Mine Own

I work in an arcade. Noises and bells and lights. Whistles going off every ten minutes. For me, it's a stress reliever, printing out tickets and handing nine year olds stuffed bunnies they'll just toss under the bed next week. Or flavored chapsticks to girls who aren't allowed to wear make up. I like it.

In the evenings, I close up, I go home, and then I wonder how my life got to be this way. And then I remember. I was turned into a vampire. And that always gets me a little hot and bothered. Because being a twenty year old with no college education in Domino City is tough. Being a vampire on top of that is a little tougher. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. And other times, it throws you a hand grenade. Useless metaphors aside, things could be easier. But then again, I suppose that, like any situation, things could be harder as well.

But life for me has been a hollow experience. I eat. I hunt. I work. I sleep. I get up and do it all over again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Broken record. You name the repetitive cliche, that's me. And I wonder, when I see people who look really happy at the bank or the hot dog stand, if this is what I'm supposed to be doing. Am I supposed to just do the same mundane tasks over and over again? Is that my destiny? And then, when you start throwing words like destiny around, can you even say that I have one? Immortality doesn't often lend itself to fate and chance. You don't get do overs, but you don't have to live for the moment, either. Not when the moment is an eternity anyway. Sure, there's the fear of the stake in the heart, or the beheading here and there. But what good is a quest for your true purpose if you have forever to figure it out?

It was Monday afternoon when I realized that all along I'd just been using my neverending life as a crutch. An excuse not to get out and do something. I was in the park, eating a peanut butter sandwich, when I heard a familiar noise. The whistle of an old friend. I looked to my right and found him sitting there, a small tupperware bowl in hand, plastic fork hanging from his mouth, grinning from ear to ear.

"Afternoon, Yugi."

"Same to you."

"That looks delicious."

"It's not." And that's how the conversation went. He shared with me his chicken salad. I gave him the rest of my sandwich. His tasted no better than mine, and he scowled and spit the rest of the bread out.

"I hate it when it sticks to the roof of your mouth."

"That's life."

"Your excuses are pathetic." He left the bowl and fork next to me and stood. "Get over yourself." Then he left. I was confused. Yami and I hadn't spoken in years. He'd been changed the same time I had, by the same vampire. We'd been good friends for a while, but time had split us apart. Now, he was acting like he knew my hesitations. Like he knew that I was feeling unsure and a little bit lost. I sighed and threw everything away, beginning to trudge back to the arcade.

The bells and whistles of my previously adored work didn't feel so comforting now. They felt gaudy and tasteless. The smell of pizza and popcorn made my stomach churn. I could smell young blood and I was envious of its taste and potential. I wanted more than what I had. And I knew that only I was really stopping myself. I left my nametag on the counter and I left, promising that I'd never come back. That I'd go out and I'd do what needed to be done.

Today is Tuesday.

Sitting on my bed, I glance at my duffel bag, considering its contents. Clothes, money, some food. Things that don't matter to someone like me. Just to someone trying to pretend to lead a normal life. I figure I'm done doing that, so I take everything but the clothes out and leave it in the room. I won't need much else where I'm going. And why I insist on eating regular food is beyond me. I suppose I like the feel of it. Something solid on my tongue, against my teeth. The taste is always pleasant. Better than blood sometimes. Less satisfying others.

I decide that what I really want is a chicken salad.

I step outside and head to the bus stop. Yami is there, leaning against the sign, smiling. "Decided to ditch this hell hole?" I nod. "Good choice. I'd leave myself if I wasn't contracted."

"With who?"

"Just someone."

"Doing what?"

"Just something."

That's good enough for me. I sit on the bench. He unzips the duffel bag. Closes it again. Nothing of value for him to take. He's like that. A scavenger.

"Why are you following me?"

"I'm interested to see what your plans are. You don't seem to have one."

"Maybe I don't want one."

"I know you, Yugi. You need guidance."

"I'll find it somewhere." He nods as the bus approaches.

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

And that's that. I step on the bus. He's not there when I glance back out the window, but I crane my neck and see his retreating form down the sidewalk. A soft smile passes over my lips and then fades. I lean against the window and fall asleep to the sound and feel of rattling windows and ten year old engines.

Even vampires have lullabies.