"Paths, once crossed, remain crossed."

The Watcher King, Act One

Scene Three: Content was Always my Favourite Colour

They'd seen him in the news that afternoon, the sports headline for the day. The 'King of Games' is at it again... He'd won a marathon out in White Rock, finishing more than five minutes before the next runner. Enthusiastically, the anchor continued describing Yugi's high school track record, a spectacular thing, and had gone on to say the young man might even make the next Olympic team if he kept it up, and to hell with card games.

They weren't listening.

They'd shown a clip of him, after the race. Bouncing to some beat they couldn't hear, so tiny next to the runners-up, but just as tired, ruined tresses stuck to his face, tank top slack and sweaty. And he looked so different. So happy.

They didn't even know he could run.

He'd been adopted. That was the only way to describe it.

Adopted by the most cheerful goth girl with flaming flamingo pigtails he had ever seen. And he'd seen a few.

"I am not goth!"

"Fine. Punk. Goth. Whatever." They were loud cloths, either way. They said 'I'll give you indigestion.'

And if the way the combat boots (laced with mismatched purple and green laces) hit the ground was any indication that was the wrong answer.

It was Thursday, and that meant geology with Karim.

They were learning that Professor Doyle was one of the good ones, but the best teacher in the world couldn't have held their attention today for the waves were breaking at Steamer Lane in early afternoon, and they were going to miss it. The sun shone, the air was warm; if they hadn't had mid terms – cold water be damned – they'd have been there. Watching the novices and laughing their asses off.

Not that they'd have done any better, mind.

But at least they knew better than to try with witnesses around.

But alas: biochemistry. Or in Yugi's case, Septimus Severus.

So now they walked from to their rooms taking bets on what dinner would be that night when they got back. It was Elly's turn to cook tonight. She'd bought an apron with neon eye patches and skulls just for the occasion. They'd already been barred from their little kitchen, from which the dubious sounds of scattering cutlery and pans emerged.

They were rather concerned.

They'd tried to talk her out of it: she'd cooked her first night in the dorm, and had presented her curious roommates with a wonderful smelling baked chicken which tasted like car tires and felt like used condoms. Her next night had unveiled a casserole with the consistency of brick. Her third was no better, and they were not impressed, but she wouldn't relinquish her night, claiming her 'sweetie' (Yugi winced) required proper nourishment and she would provide.

Yugi wondered if her clothes were only parroting the message. He said as much to Karim.

"Possibly." His eyes sparkled as he took on a pose reminiscent of the professor and leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, some creatures have flashy colours to warn predators that they are toxic. Like some flowers, butterflies... frogs..."

"Karim!" Not sure if he was gagging appalled or snorting in laughter, he narrowly avoided spewing V8 out his nose. "Don't say that." Still unsure, he gave an awkward, jolting laugh.

"Sorry, sorry!"

Yugi sighed – he needed to break that habit – and paused thoughtfully. Even back then, fresh from middle school and in the midst of his greatest delusions, he'd had trouble seeing himself in that role. "So does that make us predators?"

"Well, she is our food source, isn't she?"

There was an obvious answer. He bit it back.

Dinner was a surprisingly good enchilada on which they would blame all which came after.

Everything moved, a steady bumping, rolling forwards in the half light.

They'd ridden much of the night before and on into the morning, breaking to sleep in the heat of the day and then ride on that evening, hopefully to reach the Lord's city by daybreak. All haste – great tidings deserved it.

And was a treaty with the Badu not great tidings?

He thought to the swaths of smooth foreign cloths and other fantastic goods riding behind him. The sheer possibilities. The council would be hard pressed to doubt him now. Not when two of those most opposed had so praised him – an act which must have been hard to swallow. For the priest especially.

And so they rode on over the moving hills in the half light when even the sands seemed too tired to drift.

Until a chorus broke the quiet in a flurry of hard edges and fluttering dark robes and floundering bodies, sundered at the first touches of Re.

His last thought before the darkness took him was how lovely the distant walls were in the angry red light.

Yugi woke and hit the floor. Heart beating, blood rushing, muscles spazzing. He groaned.

"What the hell?"

Dreaming. He'd been dreaming.

The clock flashed midnight. The sun said differently. A quick fumble for his watch (which was definitely not where he left it) confirmed it was six fifty. He wouldn't be late for class if it weren't the weekend.

And it was too bright to sleep. Joy.

He dragged himself out of his room towards caffeine and noise, tripping over his books as he went. (He hadn't left them out, had he?) He found a pot already brewed and winced at the taste. Gods, he didn't even like coffee.

But it did the trick.

Grimacing at the bitterness but too lazy to do anything about it, he wandered over to a couch where his housemates had already gathered around the television. Short nods greeted his graceless collapse in the corner chair. Azara pulled a face at the sight of his drink and threw a creamer at him. It caught the rim of the mug and fell in. ("Alright!" Lazy applause as Nick moved too long hair out of his face. "Two points!") "Quake wake you?"

"Wha-?"

A round of snickers circled the group. That was Yugi for you.

"There was a six pointer around four this morning," she gestured to the pruned woman on the TV screen who was waving importantly at two imposing looking targets on a map, "just north of San Fran."

Elly yawned. "The one just now was probably a four point five. Ish. No biggy."

Karim grumbled something like 'damn locals.'

"Hey! I'm from Rhode Island!"

Nick laughed, pushing cornflower locks back again. "And Yugi slept through both of them. And them." He tried to keep laughing though a yawn and failed. "You left coffee in the pot?"

Yugi nodded and he wandered into the kitchenette. Odd that he'd sleep though it (although it did explain how he'd ended up on the floor, with many of his possessions) but it did explain his dreams.

Elly collided with him. "Ooh! Dreams? Tell! Tell!"

"Umm.. I was in a car talking to Seto, but the car turned into the coaster on the docks, and Seto just kept on talking like normal until it turned back. Which actually was pretty normal... And then I was riding somewhere on a camel. I was had something to tell people in the city, but I was attacked and I think I died." Expectant looks. "What?"

"Yugi, you suck at this storytelling thing."

"Dude."

"What? I guess I think I might've been an ambassador or something. And the guys who killed me died randomly at the end... come on. I just woke up."

Disappointed nods met him. Elly was already facing the news, thoughtful look on her face. There were already cries of 'the next Big One' and more calm warnings of aftershocks to hit the area. There was little major damage. Mostly broken windows and a few cracked walls. A house near the epicentre had had its roof collapse. The dorm had lost a few cups and a plate. Life moves on and by Monday most of Santa Cruz would have forgotten.

And meanwhile, it was getting hot outside.

A.N. At this point it wouldn't hurt to point out that scene titles are from songs, and will stay that way for as long as possible: "Flawed Design" by Stabilo, "Open Road" by Rawlins Cross, "content was always my favourite colour" by the Most Serene Republic. "A Ripple in Time" is a play off of a book by Madeleine L'Engle, "A Wrinkle in Time" and "The Watcher King" is mine. I'm also trying to use them for imagery, so keep an eye out for anything that harkens to the title, even if it doesn't seem to have anything to do with anything just yet.

White Rock, BC, Canada, named for the giant white rock on the beach. Semiahmoo myths say it was thrown there by a Native American chieftain. These days they have to paint it to keep it white. Graffiti.

Septimus Severus – Roman General, made emperor. He was basically a military dictator.

Yes, Yugi can cuss. He's a teenager.