Fallen
by
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx
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Disclaimer: See the Prologue for legal ramblings. You'll only severely depress me if you make me admit to not owning Yu-Gi-Oh! a second time.
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"We might as well be strangers in another town
We might as well be living in another time
We might as well be strangers,
For all I know of you, now."
- Keane, 'We Might as Well Be Strangers'
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Chapter 1
Everything's Relative
Yugi Mutou shivered distractedly and struggled to focus on the swirling curls of steam rising like mist from the mug in his hands. Toying with the rim, gliding a finger absently across it in an endless, thoughtless motion, he tried to blot out the worried voices echoing towards him from the shop's entrance.
"Sorry, Téa, but he won't be going to school today. If you can just tell them he's ill, or something … I dunno what you kids do these days to get outa doin' whatever it is you don't wanna do, but if you could help, that'd be great. I'd call in myself but they're probably startin' to get suspicious enough as it is, what with him being off so often lately."
His Grandfather fell silent, the scratching of the broom in his hands swiftly muted to be replaced by a soft creak as weight was applied to its handle. Yugi could almost imagine the old man leaning against it for support, regarding his two friends with a shrewdly calculating expression as he fixed them with that beady, all-knowing stare of his.
He heard Téa's response as clearly as if she were stood right next to him, and consequently jumped slightly as her anxious tones penetrated his exhausted mind.
"Alright," she said softly, turning away from the Game Shop with a worried glance at the curtained rooms above, unsure of where Yugi was but certain he was in there somewhere. "Just tell him … tell him we'll be 'round to see him later."
Visibly relaxing, Yugi slumped in his seat at the perfectly scrubbed wooden table and let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in, running an anxious hand over his face in an attempt to dispel the growing fatigue.
"Yeah," he vaguely heard Joey's richly-accented voice add with conviction as his friends prepared to leave, "we gotta talk about this an' soon. I dunno 'bout you guys, but I'm really startin' to miss the Pharaoh, an' our relationship with him is nothin' compared to that between him an' Yugi. So God knows how he's copin'. We jus' wan' him to know we're all 'ere for 'im."
Yugi half-smiled at hearing that.
His friends really were something.
And maybe they were right. Perhaps it really was time to start talking, if only to begin searching for some semblance of an understanding as to what had transpired all those weeks ago. Even now, Yugi didn't have a clue how everything had spiralled so far out of control in such a small space of time. It seemed to him that whatever Gods were watching them from up high on their lofty perches were hell-bent on making their lives as complicated and wearisome as possible.
And now, as far as he was concerned, having to skip classes on a regular basis simply because he had no energy left to make it to school meant things had gone way over the edge.
Suddenly deciding his half-empty mug of coffee didn't seem all that appetising anymore, Yugi shoved the cup away forcefully, feeling a few splashes of the dark liquid slide through his splayed fingers as he laid them flat against the table-top. His friends' retreating footsteps echoed painfully around his head, only to be replaced seconds later by the tinkling of the shop bell and a disinterested clattering, no doubt from Solomon Motou's pottering about out the front.
Eyes unfocussed and limbs heavy, Yugi sighed heavily, trying to ignore the senseless shivers working their tentative way up his spine, and dropped his head down onto his arms in defeat, relishing in the darkness beneath his closed eyelids. Unfortunately for him, though, such an action did very little to stop the world from spinning. The darkness itself was moving, swirling and twining around him despite the fact it all looked exactly the same …
"Yugi? What are you doing down here? You should be in bed."
Wincing as the words echoed ominously around his head, Yugi forced his stinging eyes open and struggled to focus on the stooped, grey-haired person standing motionless in the kitchen doorway.
"I know," he admitted softly, voice slightly hoarse as though he hadn't used his vocal chords in a while. Shaking his head a fraction in a vain attempt to dispel the fog enshrouding it, he dropped his gaze to his half-crossed arms and was dismayed to see them trembling. "But I wanted to make sure my friends were okay. I mean … well, it's hard on them, too. And they're having to put themselves out so much for me, what with handling school, and all."
Solomon couldn't suppress a small smile as waves of pride coursed through his veins like wildfire. He considered his Grandson through lidded eyes, the warmth of his gaze offset by what had by now culminated into months' worth of unbridled concern.
Even now … Yugi was still putting his friends before himself.
"Well, as I'm sure you heard for yourself, Joey and Téa are doing just fine. In fact, they're more worried about you than anything. And they'll be able to handle today, at least, so don't you worry about that."
Yugi shrugged half-heartedly.
"I know, it's just I feel like I'm becoming a burden," he confessed, clenching his fists hard enough to leave angry red marks where his nails had pierced the soft flesh of his palms. "They're having to make up excuses for me on what's fast becoming a day-to-day basis, and it won't be long before someone comes looking for me, be it the school or … someone else …"
'Phew!' he thought, heart racing a little faster then normal beneath his ribcage. 'Nearly gave it away, then. But I can't let Grandpa know the truth. It's not fair on him…'
"Yugi, I know something's going on."
Jumping, Yugi straightened up in his chair and dropped his arms from the table again, absent-mindedly cupping the Millennium Puzzle in his palms and running a nervous thumb over the Eye of Horus in the centre.
"What do you mean?" he asked anxiously, biting his lip and trying to avoid his Grandfather's piercing gaze.
'If I don't look at him, I'll be fine. Just don't look directly at Grandpa and he can't force the truth out of you!'
"You're hiding," the old man said, quite calmly, Yugi decided. He spared Solomon a shifty glance, peering at him through blood-shot eyes as he tightened his grip on the Millennium Puzzle, looking up just in time to see his Grandfather attempting to burn a hole right through his soul with that penetrating gaze Yugi knew all too well.
"Care to talk about it?" Solomon asked, not unkindly, sinking into the chair opposite his Grandson and downing the remainders of Yugi's make-shift breakfast.
Busted, Yugi had half a mind to deny the accusation completely, but he simply didn't have the willpower or the energy to attempt to argue with the one person who knew him almost as well as he thought he knew himself. And there wasn't exactly any chance he'd have won a mental battle in the first place, anyway. So why bother?
"It's nothing, Gramps. Really," he said at last, avoiding Solomon's questioning gaze as best he could, shrinking into his seat and silently struggling to still his quaking hands.
But Solomon wasn't biting.
"You're hiding," he repeated firmly, taking Yugi's resentful submission as fact before turning away and gazing at the wall. "I don't know why, and I don't know who from, but I know you're trying to avoid somebody. And I do wish you'd tell me who it is you so dearly wish to refrain from bumping in to."
Yugi sighed again and shook his head, shooting Solomon a sympathetic but firm half-smile.
"Sorry, Grandpa," he said softly, forcing himself to his feet and reaching for the mug again, "I'd tell you if I could but I can't. You're right, though," he added as he shuffled over to the sink and set about rinsing the cup out, "I am hiding from someone. But I can't tell you any more than that. To be honest with you, I don't exactly know much more than that, myself. It's … complicated."
Solomon considered the youth through apathetic eyes, taking in Yugi's slumped shoulders and bounce-less locks. Hair that usually stood spiked and healthy was now hanging limp and uncared for about the boy's shoulders, and Solomon could have sworn that while Yugi had always been slim, he'd never been this thin …
"It's got something to do with the Pharaoh, hasn't it?" he wagered at last, leaning his elbows on the tabletop and resting his chin on his upturned palms as he considered Yugi sadly.
As if in answer to his question, the mug in his Grandson's hands was promptly dropped with a gasp, leaving it to smash loudly against the linoleum floor, shattered pieces of porcelain flying tornado style across the kitchen.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he murmured softly, dropping his hands and sighing as Yugi turned to him at last, entire body trembling and violet eyes wide, their exhausted gaze urgent and soulful as he struggled to bite back tears. Solomon paused and bit his lip, sorely tempted to comfort the boy and yet wary that any attempt might serve only to freak the kid out even further. Finally deciding to meet half way, he clambered to his feet with a soft groan and ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the table and staring intently at Yugi. "We will find him, Yugi. You just need to have faith."
"But it's been so long," Yugi whispered, blinking and turning away, clenching his fists. "Maybe the reason we haven't found him yet is because he really is …"
He couldn't bring himself to say it.
"No," Solomon rebuked sharply, shaking his head and walking over to Yugi's side. Gripping his Grandson's shoulders, he squeezed them reassuringly and shook his head again. "No," he said more softly this time, "you can't think like that. He was taken for a reason, and I highly doubt whoever did take him wanted him dead. There's something else to it, I just wish I knew what."
"But if he's not gone … why can't I sense him, Grandpa?" Yugi pleaded, unable to hold back the tears now. "If he really isn't … you know … why does it feel like he is? There's nothing there! Nothing! Where he used to be, where I could feel him before – now it's just … empty! How could that be if he's really okay?"
Solomon pulled away, a hand on his chin as he thoughtfully contemplated the Egyptian artifact glinting distractingly up from its position around Yugi's neck.
"Hmm …" he said after a moment's pause, "well maybe that's simply down to the fact that the Pharaoh is his own person, now. Up until this thing began, the two of you were sharing the same body, which would explain why you could sense each other, even communicate with each other. Perhaps once that link was severed, the connection between you was, too. Just because you can't sense him anymore doesn't mean he's gone, Yugi. It could simply be a side-effect to the Pharaoh obtaining his own body."
Yugi had considered that very possibility on more than one occasion, his racing thoughts leading him round and round in circles as he sat up for hours, unable to sleep, unable to think, just silently wishing for something, anything that might suggest Yami's whereabouts or current condition. Trying to convince himself that his Dark was still alive had led Yugi to contemplate all too often just how it had come to be that their link no longer worked.
But hearing his Grandpa's thoughts on the matter did somehow ease his worries, if only marginally. If Solomon thought the same thing he did, then perhaps it was true, after all. Perhaps the fact he could no longer connect with his yami mentally could be explained away as an unwanted consequence of their souls splitting after so long.
Blinking his eyes back into focus, Yugi nodded once and dropped his gaze, jumping slightly when Solomon placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, only to blush and murmur a hasty apology to the floor.
"Get some rest, Yugi. You look dead on your feet, and you'll need to get your strength up. Your friends will be around to see you later. If you want, I can call you down about lunch time. You should really try and eat something."
Yugi shrugged noncommittally, touched by his Grandfather's worry but admittedly irritated by it, at the same time.
"I just haven't been in the mood for food lately, Gramps. Sorry," he admitted quietly, resting a hand on Solomon's for a second before pulling away and sighing heavily. "With my head the way it is, and so many questions in need of answers, eating's just become something of a chore."
"Yes," Solomon said sadly, making for the door as he returned to the shop, "and you look terrible for it. Trust me, Yugi. The sooner you get back on track, the sooner we'll find the Pharaoh. But with you suffering so, there's very little we can do. I know being separated from half of your soul is bound to take a lot out of you, but if you don't try and look after yourself, saving the Pharaoh will be the least of our worries."
"I know," Yugi whispered, sparing his Grandfather an anxious glance before heading for the stairs. "I'll be down for lunch, Grandpa," he conceded before vanishing from sight.
Solomon Mutou stared after his Grandson, eyes ablaze with concern and apathy. With a subtle shake of his head, and an anxious glance at the ceiling as though the solutions to the world's problems were written upon it in invisible ink, he returned to the shop.
"Yugi?"
Téa bit her lip and distractedly knotted her fingers as she stared almost pleadingly across to Joey.
"Does anybody know where Yugi is today?"
Téa winced, feeling Miss Crawford's eyes burning into the back of her head. Snapping her gaze back to the front, deciding that Joey was being absolutely no help whatsoever, she sighed and avoided her teacher's penetrating azure gaze.
"He's er … he's sick, Miss Crawford. Mr Mutou asked me to tell you he wouldn't be coming in today."
She held her breath as Miley Crawford stared intently at her, apparently trying to decipher a hidden meaning behind her words. Finally admitting defeat, deciding Téa was speaking as close to the truth as she was permitted, she sighed heavily and nodded.
"I can't say I'm surprised," she conceded finally, returning her gaze to the register and frowning. "Although I must admit I'm becoming a little worried. He's been off an awful lot, lately."
Joey cleared his throat and leant back in his seat, the epitaph of cool, calm and collected as he fixed his teacher with an unconcerned stare.
"S'probably nothing to worry about, Miss," he declared loudly, sparing a warning glance in Téa and Tristan's general directions before absently wafting a stray lock of hair from his eyes. "There's been that bug goin' around lately. Maybe he caught dat."
Miley raised an eyebrow.
"A bug that's had him absent from school on and off for the best part of three months, Wheeler? I highly doubt that."
Joey shrugged, his unconcerned expression being sorely tested by his racing heart.
But before he was forced to improvise a response to that, Téa spoke up in his place.
"Please, Miss Crawford, he didn't want anybody to know," she started softly, fixing Miley with an intense gaze, if only to avoid the undivided attention being bestowed upon her by the entire class. Biting her lip, she sighed heavily and lowered her gaze in mock-guilt. "He'll be so upset if he finds out I've told you this," she went on, dearly hoping her acting skills weren't as obvious as she believed them to be. "But Yugi's Grandpa's been really ill, lately. He was hoping to spend as much time with Mr. Mutou as possible, considering what the Doctors have told them …"
She fell silent, internally cringing at what Yugi would say if he could have heard what she'd just said.
'Of all the things I could have said, I went for the oldest trick in the book! Great job, Téa, way to go! Some liar you are! As if she's gonna fall for the whole, 'Grandpa is dying and nobody but the friends of the family know about it' kick! I'm such a nimrod!'
"Oh, bad news, I take it?" was the soft reply.
"Huh?" Téa asked, momentarily wrong-footed by the gullibility of her tutor. Blushing, she struggled to straighten her face and turned away, eyes downcast and expression serious. "Yes. Very. They've …" She paused, closing her eyes. 'Oh my God, I can't believe I'm actually about to say this,' she thought, before opening them again and turning back to her teacher. "They've got a few weeks, at the most."
She heard a loud gasp from Joey's general direction, and the distinct sound of a harsh slap from Tristan. Glancing up, slowly so as not to rouse any unwanted attention, she saw the former shaking his head in mild disbelief, while the latter had his hand half-covering his face with his eyes closed, apparently having smacked himself in obvious denial.
"Oh, that's terrible," Miley whispered, tears welling. Téa considered her guiltily, peeking out through her hair and internally cringing.
'Oh boy. This is so gonna get me at least a month's worth of detentions,' she thought fearfully. 'There's absolutely no way we're gonna be able to keep this act up. What happens when Mr Mutou turns up for Parent's Evening three months from now? They'll know I lied …'
"Well, I suppose it's only fair that we leave them be for now," Miley said finally, breaking the silence and effectively yanking Téa out of her self-berating. "But even so, that's an awful lot of lessons Yugi's missed. It'll take some catching up. And if he's not returned to school by next week, then I may have to see the Headmaster. Even with such a devastating occurrence, he still needs his education. If you see Yugi, please let him know that I wish to see him as soon as possible, be it this week or next. And give him my condolences, too," she added quietly.
And on that note, she returned to the register, drumming through names in contemplative quietness. The class returned their attention to her, leaving Téa free to release the breath she'd held in for what felt like hours. Glancing over her shoulder, she shook her head in dismay and shrugged helplessly, spotting Joey's look of open-mouthed disbelief.
'Oh, we are so busted,' she thought dismally, turning away and pulling her exercise book towards her, flicking idly through the pages and reaching for a pen. 'If not by the school , then by Yugi's Grandpa. Sorry Mr. Mutou,' she mentally added, fully aware that he couldn't exactly hear her but mutely hoping he'd forgive her, all the same, 'but you did want us to get Yugi through today. Too bad for us it's not Yugi who's gonna get it in the neck when this thing comes back to bite me on the ass.'
Macros scowled darkly and slammed a fist down onto the make-shift desk in front of him.
"This is taking far too long!" he shouted at no-one in particular, staring through the misted window at the congregation of trees and bushes outside, gazing off towards where he knew the clearing to be.
"Sir?"
Growling in impatience, he ran a clawed hand through his matted hair, black tangles tearing irritatingly at his pale scalp as the dark hood fell limp about his shoulders.
Turning to his minion, he shook his head in annoyance, dark eyes narrowed in distaste.
"What do you want?" he spat, not in the mood for mincing words.
The Underling trembled under his piercing gaze, but stood his ground regardless, his features shrouded by the cloak he wore, but the fear escaping through his quivering voice, all the same.
"Y-you called for me, S-Sir?" he pressed, hands clasped tightly behind his back as he struggled to avoid Macros' infuriated look, quite obviously dearly wishing he could be anywhere else but where he was.
Macros' scowl deepened and he shrugged in disinterest, turning away and staring out of the window again.
"Well I can't recall why, so perhaps you should just …"
But he fell silent, the reason for this summoning finally returning to him as though somebody had flicked a light switch on inside his head.
"Oh," he murmured, his scowl fading away, only to be replaced by a lop-sided leer as his eyes burned unseeing paths through the overgrown forestry outside. "Wait, I remember now. There is something I was hoping you could do." Glancing up, he frowned and turned back to the person standing frozen in the doorway. "What was your name again?" he asked conversationally, absently flicking an imaginary speck of dust from the arm of his cloak.
His minion squeaked in surprise, taking a terrified step backwards.
"L-Lucas, Sir," he declared nervously, the word reverberating around the room and leaving his blood to run cold. "You're standing in the h-house of my f-forefather," he added in a small voice, staring almost wistfully about the room before returning his gaze to the being standing motionless beside the window.
"Well then, Lucas," Macros called delightedly, running a lazy eye over the room's far and few possessions before turning to glare directly at the young man behind him, "I want you to do me a little favour. Accomplish what I ask of you, and your 'forefather' won't have died in vain."
Lucas gasped, eyes jamming closed in silent despair, only to be forced open again when Macros' 'task' was finally revealed to him.
Fixing his Underling with a beady but triumphant stare, Macros' tones were far too light and airy for comfort. The sound was suffocatingly unnatural, given his unkempt appearance and destructive nature. But unfortunately for Lucas, distressing though the barked command may have been, it also appeared to be echoing around his head without any sign of stopping.
"I need you to ready our guest. He's going on a trip, see. Somewhere he'll probably recognise, I'm sure, but you, on the other hand, will not. Given the fact you've barely left your village since birth let alone the country you were born in, this will most definitely be an experience and a half for you."
Lucas' eyes widened in horror, the full impact of what was being asked of him hitting home with brute force. Turning to stare at his captor in utter disbelief, he shook his head in refusal.
"I can't leave my family, Sir," he half-shouted half-pleaded. "Please! My daughter is not yet four! However will my wife explain to her where I've gone? And … leaving the country?! I can't do that! Never before have I set one foot over the boundaries of my village!"
But Macros wasn't up for discussions, and Lucas' arguments were insufferably futile.
"You will do as I say or both mother and daughter will be slaughtered. What your wife tells your little runt about your abrupt departure is of no concern to me!" Macros snapped back, voice low, dangerous, almost challenging.
Tears welling, Lucas dropped his gaze and nodded submissively.
"Yes, Sir," he less than whispered, suddenly wishing for nothing more than to leave his once family home as quickly as possible. "I'll … I'll prepare the prisoner for the journey right away, Sir."
"Good," Macros murmured, staring out of the window again, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Lucas paused in the doorway, trembling fingers gripping so hard to the handle that his knuckles were white from the strain. Glancing back through heavily shadowed eyes, his lips quivering, he suppressed a gnawing desire to turn and run, and instead straightened up as best he could, the greyish-blue cloak fluttering around his ankles.
"And … and what do I tell the prisoner, Sir?" he asked apprehensively, staring at the back of Macros' head.
"Ahh, the Pharaoh."
His captor shrugged his indifference before glaring intently towards the clearing as though he could see it as clear as day through the shrubbery. After a moment's hesitation, he chuckled lightly to himself, inclining his head and letting his coal-black eyes slide closed.
"Tell him … he's going home," he said at last, a broad, freakish smile cracking his face as he blinked his eyes open again.
A vague, "yes, Sir," was all he received by way of response, followed seconds later by a soft click! as the door was pulled closed behind Lucas' thankfully retreating back.
Macros smirked, a low sigh of contentment working its way easily up his throat as he leant against the desk with his arms folded over his chest.
"Soon, Pharaoh," he murmured to the ether, relishing in his beliefs that not a thing was going to go wrong with his newest plan. And what a flawless plan it was … His smirk only broadened as he realised just how foolish it was of him not to think of it sooner. Tapping his claws against his arms, he nodded to himself, watching as the Sun's rays washed in through the spotless window and filtered almost lovingly over the once plush, ruby-red carpet of the Village Noble's home.
And his smirk only widened.
"Soon enough I will have everything I need," he whispered to the silence.
It didn't answer, but he hadn't believed it would. He straightened up and lowered his hands again, eyes unfocussed as his mind ran over his newest brainstorm for the final time. "I'll return you to your friends, Pharaoh, but make no mistakes you'll be doing something for me at the same time. Sending you back will draw them out. And as soon as your shrimpy little protégé is out in the open, the three Egyptian God Cards, along with his Millennium Puzzle, will be free for the taking."
His dark eyes glinted maliciously in the sunlight, clawed hands clenching into fists at his sides as he stared almost wistfully into the clouded skies overhead.
"And with them will come power unimaginable. Let's see you protect man-kind from me then, Pharaoh!"
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To Be Continued …
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Thanks for reading! Reviews are shiny …
And I love shiny things …
Blessed Be!
Hugs,
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx
