Thrice Gone
A Yu-Gi-Oh! Fanfic
By Azurite - azurite AT seventh-star DOT net
seventh-star DOT net

Rated: T/PG-13

Pairing: Seto x Anzu (Azureshipping)

Timeline: Post (anime) series - within a few months or so, when the gang is in their third and final year of high school.

Idea Date: 5/16/2004 - Proof that I have far too many Yu-Gi-Oh/Azureshipping ideas still in the pipeline.
Written Date: 8/10/2015 - Happy belated birthday, Anzu! Sorry Not Sorry I keep throwing you into tragic situations for the sake of romance.
Posted Dates: 10/8/2015

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! This is all for fun, not for profit.

Author's Note: So this picks up immediately where the last part left off. I say "part" and not "chapter," because I originally conceived of this as a one shot, then a three-parter, and then when I thought about putting it out in the world as an experiment, I thought "screw it, I'll just put it out in whatever chunks I feel like," so here we are. Part 2/?

Since the experiment seems to have been a pleasant success, I'm posting this on AO3, Tumblr, and FFnet all on the same night.

Mokuba didn't notice Anzu stare down, glassy-eyed at the photo frame that she held in her hands. Suddenly Seto had a very good idea just why Anzu had been outside, uncaring about the ceaseless downpour.

"I was visiting my sisters," Anzu said before Seto himself could say anything, reprimand Mokuba on his childish curiosity or lack of propriety. How was he supposed to say those sorts of things when he'd never exactly been a role model for Mokuba when it came to respect for others in the first place?

And of course Mazaki would go and blurt exactly what was on her mind, regardless of whether she really wanted to tell Mokuba or not.

'Keh. She's just indulging him.'

But if Mazaki thought that one little tidbit of information would be enough to quiet Mokuba, she didn't know him at all.

"You have SISTERS?!" Mokuba exclaimed, leaping forward on his seat. "No way, I never knew! Is that a picture of them?"

Anzu smiled faintly, and Seto had the sinking sensation that he was right, and for the first time in a long while, he really didn't want to be. She didn't say anything, she just smeared some water from the glass and handed the frame to Mokuba.

Surprisingly, he scuttled across the seat to Seto's side, as if expecting him to examine Anzu's family photo with him with some measure of interest.

Well... he was interested. But only a little. Only because Mokuba was right; it was suprising to learn Mazaki had sisters. He'd never heard of any of them at school, never seen her interact with anyone outside of Yuugi and his little cadre. That just made it all the more possible that his gut suspicion was correct.

The photo was faded, the edges curling from exposure to the elements, including the day's rain. But in the center of the photo were three distinct faces: one with shoulder-length brown hair in a neat, sharp cut-a contrast to the fuzzy gray cardigan she wore with a white blouse underneath and what appeared to be -'Pajama bottoms? No, that can't be right.' -Well, she had on some sort of patterned slacks on. It vaguely looked like there were ballet slippers with hearts and tiaras printed all over, but Seto thought he was seeing things.

He did notice the wheelchair, though.

There were two girls on either side of the one in the wheelchair-one who had to be Anzu, with the same blunt, mid-neck length, angled haircut and choppy bangs. But she wasn't in a Domino High uniform, but that of an elite junior high. She had the same chin and bright blue eyes as her sister in a wheelchair, which led Seto to believe that perhaps Anzu didn't just have sisters, but at least one twin sister. With a pair of glasses on her face, she almost seemed like a completely different person. 'Almost.'

The final girl in the picture was the most surprising, though: she was leaning on her sister's wheelchair like a prop, making a "V is for Victory!" sign with her fingers while she practically mugged the camera with a winking eye covered in purple eyeshadow and a bright red, lipsticked smile. She had to be the eldest of the three, with bleached, long, messy hair, and wearing an open red, osentatiously-embroidered tokkofuku jacket over what appeared to be a nearly-bare chest, wrapped only with the traditional sarashi white cloth. She obviously wasn't wearing the wraps to bind her breasts, though, since their shape was evident even under the "bandages."

'I am not looking at Mazaki's sister's breasts. I am not looking at Mazaki's sister's breasts...'

There was no denying that he was a healthy 18 year-old, though. And strictly for observational purposes, he'd noted the third sister was not just wearing older, traditional clothes, but ones generally tailored for men...and then going and flaunting how very much she was not a man. Her sleeves and the hems of her baggy pants were also rolled up, and though Seto couldn't see her feet behind her sister's wheelchair, he imagined she was wearing stiletto heels or tall combat boots-something to complete her obvious "Yanki" look.

"Twins?!" Mokuba exclaimed before Seto could comment on the sister that looked like a member of a biker gang.

"Triplets, actually," Anzu said, and Seto and Mokuba both peered closer at the photo. So the Yanki girl wasn't older-she was the same age as these junior high girls?

Obviously Anzu's sisters had opted to live very different lives from one another; unlike the other identical sets Seto had heard of, these girls didn't dress alike, didn't style their hair alike, and didn't even seem care about going to the same school.

Quite abruptly, Mokuba shuffled up onto his knees and peered into Anzu's eyes. He didn't comment on the red rims, as Seto expected he might; a likely obvious answer to the question of why she looked as though she'd been crying went unspoken.

"Wait, so when did you get surgery on your eyes? You're not wearing contacts, and I've never seen you wear glasses..."

Anzu lowered her head and chuckled under her breath.

"You're probably the billionth person to say that," she said after a pause, "But that's not me. That's my sister, Momo."

Anzu wasn't sure whose reaction she enjoyed more; the widening eyes of Mokuba, who started to glance back and forth between Anzu's face and the photograph, or Seto, whose eyes narrowed, almost suspiciously. She'd seen that look before on Seto's face, back when Yuugi or someone started talking about Games of Darkness or Millennium Items.

The memory of that -of him- made Anzu's heart clench, just a bit, before she shook it off.

She decided she liked the look on Seto's face the best, as he tried to look like he wasn't looking at the photo and trying to decide if she was somehow the girl in the wheelchair or the girl in the Yanki outfit.

"But if that's not you," Mokuba said, finally voicing his confusion, "Then which one...?"

Anzu smiled at him and pointed at the Yanki girl, watching his eyes widen to the size of saucers.

"No way! You were a Yanki!?"

"Mokuba!" Kaiba reprimanded, but Anzu only laughed. She was surprised she could still make the sound, on a day like today, feeling like she did: heavy to the bone, cold inside and out, practically dead to the world. With that one laugh, she felt a flicker of warmth inside her again- something she hadn't felt in a long while.

"We preferred the term 'Lady's', but yes," Anzu affirmed.

"Ehhhh..." Mokuba leaned back, his eyes still wide. He unabashedly looked Anzu up and down, and Anzu felt her face redden again. She lowered her chin to her chest in the hopes that neither of the Kaiba brothers would see her blush.

What was she supposed to have done, hidden the photo? Awkward or not, the Kaiba brothers were being generous, giving her a ride in this weather. She probably owed them, anyway; after all these years, she probably knew more about them than they knew about her. But then again, it wasn't as if they were the sharing sort. She'd learned the most about the Kaiba brothers through witnessing the elder brother's numerous duels: Kaiba versus Yuugi, Kaiba versus Pegasus...Kaiba versus Noa. That had opened her eyes the most to the horrors they'd been through, but she'd never said anything to either of them about it.

Never said how lucky they were, to have survived all of that together.

She didn't think they would understand.

Maybe even now, they still wouldn't.

Thank God she hadn't noticed his face.

It would have been one thing if Anzu had turned out to the be the glasses-clad school girl, or even somehow, the gaunt-faced girl with patterned pajama bottoms sitting in a wheelchair, but...

'I was not staring at Mazaki's breasts, I was not staring at Mazaki's breasts...'

As Seto chanted this in his head, keeping his eyes closed and praying he hadn't developed one of those stereotypical nosebleeds like in some anime, Anzu kept talking.

"...name was Sumomo."

Seto took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "So your parents must have had a thing for fruit," he commented.

Anzu smiled, this time at him, and Seto felt an odd coiling beneath his stomach. He shifted in his seat, crossing his legs to try and make the feeling go away.

"Yeah, right? Momo's 'peach,' Sumomo's 'plum,' and I'm 'apricot'."

Where that sort of obvious comment might have been the end of it for Seto, Anzu surprisingly continued.

"My parents are divorced though. Mom's this famous ikebana arranger, usually off on some design trip or another. I think she's somewhere in Kyoto now? And I haven't seen or heard from my dad in years."

Mokuba asked the next-most obvious question, his brow furrowed in confusion: "So if your mom is out of town, and you just came back from visiting your sisters, then where were you planning on staying? Is your mom not going to be back tonight?"

Anzu shook her head ruefully, letting a sigh escape her lips. She wasn't wearing lipstick, Seto noted -had she ever, that he had seen outside the weathered photograph?- though in the next moment, he had to awkwardly restart his mantra, this time substituting 'lips' for 'breasts.'

"To be honest, I was just going to crash at Yuugi's-"

"You can stay with us," Seto heard himself say, and then he blinked rapidly. Had he actually just said that? Had he truly just done that? Judging by the astonished expressions on both Anzu and Mokuba's faces, indeed he had.

'Well, no going back now.'

Actually, there was nothing stopping him from taking back his words, but somehow he really, really didn't like the idea of a soaking wet, mournful Mazaki staying at his rival's house for who-knew-how-long, waking up sticky from the humid nights, giggling over burnt toast and orange juice, and probably walking hand-in-hand to school.

"I-" Anzu's un-lipsticked lips opened and closed a few times before any additional syllables could make their way out. "Uh, sure. Thank you. Really."

He hadn't actually expected her to agree.

Suddenly the mental image of Mazaki waking up sticky had absolutely nothing to do with Yuugi, and he felt that same warm coiling below his stomach again, this time hotter than before.

'This might be my worst idea ever.' And that was including the time he'd let himself get "controlled" by Anubis and dueled Yuugi yet again, in the hopes of finally dealing him the perfect defeat.

Was this going to be the end of him instead? Only time would tell.

More eventually. Stay tuned, you fine folks, you. I love you. You make me happy and get me writing again. While working full time. And in grad school.

The more things change, the more things stay the same?

-Azurite