Hello one and all! This is a collection of oneshots devoted to our beloved Atemu and Anzu. I have to admit, I've been a diehard Revolutionshipping fan since I first discovered Yugioh at the tender age of 8 or so. I'm now 18 and still love them. To celebrate 10 years of loving Yugioh, I've decided to start this collection. Basically, I take a quote or a couple from a song and write a prompt based on it (though this collection won't be limited to song prompts).
P.S. Just so you guys know, there is no limit to what I will write about. It may be an AU, set in Ancient Egypt, maybe even a scene from one my other fics (which I regret never finishing). And you guys can always give me suggestions, so feel free to review and tell me how I'm doing! Suggestions to help me improve my writing is MOST welcome! Thanks everyone!
P.P.S. By the way, I won't claim that the times in this fic are canon (totally made up, actually). It's only for the purpose of forwarding the essence of the fic.
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"Slipped Away"—Avril Lavinge
The day you slipped away, was the day I found it won't be the same.
The day he left was a Monday, she knew.
At 8:00AM, instead of being woken up from a sleepless slumber by Ishizu, they were supposed to have been shaken awake by the screech of their alarm clocks (or disgruntled mothers), groaning at the calendar marked 'Math Test Today!'
At 8:30AM, instead of greeting everyone and sighting their destination illuminated beneath the sun (almost like heaven, she supposes), they were all supposed to have just arrived at school, shuffling reluctant feet across orderly tiles, the smell of chalk and failed Chemistry experiments stinging their noses, the Spring sun beckoning them to the windows.
At 8:32AM, instead of seeing Yuugi emerge from him room with a solemn frown, they were supposed to have seen him beaming and joking around with a panicking Jounouchi and Honda (because, of course, they never study for tests but they panic all the same).
At 10:00AM, instead of stepping onto arid land and rubbing at sand swept up from beneath their feet, they were supposed to have been squeaking their sneakers on the newly polished gym floor (because the janitors always polish the floors Monday mornings) and rubbing sweat away from their eyes.
At 11:00AM, instead of arriving at a real historic site (complete with the acrid smell of ancient magic), they were supposed to have been only marveling at a photograph of the last remains of the Valley of the Kings and listening to the sensei babble about always wanting to go there in person to see the tombs of Pharaohs once thriving, now long gone.
At 12:14AM, instead of watching Yuugi duel a version of himself with the air of finality thick in the air, they were supposed to have been watching Yuugi trounce Jounouchi for the 3rd time during the 10 minute interval allowed from lunch until the beginning of their math class (Anzu being the only one studying).
At 1:43PM, instead of watching a portal open to the metaphysical world, the boys (except Yuugi) were supposed to have been exchanging notes around the classroom, have the teacher catch Jounouchi throw one onto Anzu's desk and send them all to the principal's office.
At 1:48PM, instead of feeling the weight of Jounouchi's hand keeping her from drowning in her selfishness (if not keep him here, then go with him—but that's selfish, right?), she was supposed to have been scolding Jounouchi for dragging her into the punishment for their immaturity—she, at least, was a straight A student, thank you very much.
… And when they did return, she kept telling herself that they had not missed their math test, that the principal didn't miss giving Jounouchi and Honda another detention, that the teacher didn't question her for having been absent for the first time since the beginning of high school, that the gym floor polish didn't look slightly dulled.
But that Monday permeated their days in many different ways. Yuugi often lifted his hand to his chest when he was anxious, grasping for something that wasn't there. Jounouchi and Honda were sometimes so quiet during history lessons on Ancient Egypt that the sensei began to mistaken it for good behavior. Bakura would occasionally press his fingers hesitantly to his forehead, a look of wonder and relief on his face once he realized it was just a headache.
And her? Well, she did a better job camouflaging her hurt, drowning instead in books and dancing and everyday life. No, this is not selfish, she would say, this was following the golden track she had drawn for herself ever since she first discovered her legs could fly just as well as a pair of wings. She couldn't have been happier and she always smiled hard (but not so hard that the cracks will show).
But pain still existed (physical, at least). Her eyes would still water from pulling all-nighters before the science final and tears would still spring up from the pain of a twisted ankle.
(At least the pain reminded her that she was alive and she had dreams.)
But when nighttime would fall and the mendacity of life is no longer there to keep her scars under wraps, her lips complained of bloody feet but her tears would whisper a dead man's name.
(Then again, he was never really alive.)