So, my day thus far has been shit. For those not on my MySpace: my cat was killed down in Phoenix. Nina is not happy. At all. However, then I got down here to the library, and I had something that made me smile. Reviews. Lots of them. That are probably going to be a big help now that I'm catching up with what's written (I HATE HATE HATE writer's block and think there should be a special place in hell for it). Thank you guys so much for making my day at least a little better.
In other news - I apologise to the mods or whoever-you-are's of because this was an anonymous review - YES, this story does take its name from the Aida song, and YES, those lyrics will find their way into this story. YOU ARE AMAZING AND I KIND OF WANT TO BEAR YOUR CHILDREN. (Okay, that's pushing it, but you know what I mean.) Aida is my favorite musical, and I have a couple of stories (including one not in this fandom) named for it.
Title: Written in the Stars
Chapter: 09/??
Author: Nina/TechnicolorNina
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Pairing/Characters: This chapter features puzzleshipping.
Word Count: 4 924
Story Rating: R/M for sexual situations, language, and violence.
Chapter Rating: R/M for dark themes and character death.
Story Summary: When Yuugi's class gets to study a new panel from a pharaoh's tomb, Yuugi walks straight into trouble. Can he stay alive? And can he find his way home?
Chapter Summary: Someone dies. Yuugi is very not happy. There are hobbits.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise? Totally not mine.
Spoilers: For the end of the series.
Warnings: Sickness like WHOA.
Notes: I would like to take note that in Yuugi's country of origin, as well as in my home state, Yuugi is above the age of statutory consent. In fact, in story-time he's now above the age of statutory consent in every country I know the laws for (which is a fair few). The astute reader who pointed out via email that Atem is younger than Yuugi by six months should be made aware that in all relevant countries and states, Atem is also above the age of statutory consent. If you have a problem with a seventeen-year-old having sex, this is not the story for you.
Feedback: There may be something out there that's better than a review containing concrit, but if there is, I haven't found it yet. So if you have two minutes and you wouldn't mind? Please? Arigatou. (And concrit is cool. Flames are not.)
Special Thanks/Dedications: This chapter is for Fille Canadienne. Thank you, dear, for your wonderful review, and also for restoring my faith in humanity. (You even picked out the part of the lyrics I have posted on my computer monitor as a guide for a later chapter, and are therefore made of epic win and awesome.)
"Slave Aibou."
Yuugi started, turned, and nearly lost another dish to the pantry floor. He'd never heard Set use his name - or that of any slave but Shemei, for that matter - before, and just the sound of it was enough to startle him.
"I - yeah?"
"Come with me."
Yuugi followed. Failure to comply would only get him dragged along whether he liked it or not, even though he was supposed to be upstairs in fifteen minutes and had yet to eat. Set led him along yet another passage he'd never seen, and Yuugi had time to wonder just how big this place really was. Then they were in a room both dark and damp, and Set was showing him a large bowl full of something bluish-green and powdery that Yuugi couldn't immediately identify. Set's face was puzzled.
"Is this what you wanted us to grow?"
The pieces suddenly clicked in Yuugi's mind. It had worked, and much faster than he'd expected. He'd forgotten the part where there were no artificial preservatives to be broken down first.
"Yes. Do you have - "
Another slave produced a second bowl and a knife. Yuugi took the large bowl from Set and the tools from the slave - probably one of Set's personal slaves, because Yuugi had never seen him before - sat down, and began to scrape some of his prize off the bread. There was already a nice colony started here. He wanted to use all he could and still leave enough that it wouldn't have to start growing all over.
"You might as well start another couple of loaves. He and Merishu have both got it, and it's probably going to take a lot of this to do anything about it."
"What is it?" Set eyed the substance in the bowl, once a perfectly edible loaf of bread, with distrust.
Yuugi didn't bother looking up. "That depends on context. If it's on bread you want to eat, you call it mold." He set the large bowl on the floor and stood up, carefully guarding the smaller bowl of scraped spores. "If you have a demon you want to get rid of, you call it penicillin. It's a kind of medicine. We can go for now, if you want. Don't throw out what's left. We'll need it, and it can probably grow some more. Can we go back to the kitchens?"
Set led him back to the kitchen quarter and watched with a critical eye as Yuugi first boiled water, then set it aside to cool. He paused to think. There was nothing available for him to make juice from - both grapes and pomegranates were out of season - and he couldn't remember if alcohol would kill mold, so wine and beer were both out. He supposed he was lucky to remember what kind of mold penicillin came from, and thought that if he ever saw Anzu again, he was going to give her the biggest hug of her life for making him do that stupid science fair project that had turned out to be not so stupid, after all. But he needed something else. Yuugi had tasted bread-mold before. Atem was already having trouble keeping things down, and if the smell didn't make him lose whatever they'd got into him, the taste surely would. Finally Yuugi settled for cutting some bite-sized pieces of plum and cantaloupe. He'd just have to be fast, that was all.
Yuugi made his first stop in Merishu's room, where he mixed some of the spores with a bowl of water. He felt like an ass making Merishu drink it, but a few bites of plum soothed the indignity, and Yuugi consoled himself with the thought that Merishu would soon be up and running around again, good as new. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. If.
Set followed him next up to Atem's room, where Yuugi repeated the procedure. Atem was at least somewhat lucid, and offered no resistance as Yuugi followed the cloudy mixture with a few pieces of melon. Yuugi let out a sigh.
"Okay. Three times a day - four, if we have enough. Always boil the water and let it cool first, and give him something to eat after. No wine, no beer. And we'll need enough of the spores to fit across a knife-blade for the length of a finger. Every time. No exceptions." It was the only unit of measure Yuugi had had available when he mixed his makeshift prescription. He only hoped it would be enough.
"You don't really know what you're doing, do you?" Set asked. He'd allowed himself inside the room as far as Atem's dressing table. Yuugi shrugged.
"I've never had to do this part before, but I know if he gets enough of it, that's going to be one sorry demon."
And if he doesn't get enough, or if it turns out he's allergic to it, I'm probably going to be one sorry Yuugi.
Yuugi shoved the thought away. He could do what he could do, and no more. Set left. Madu and Yuugi traded places, and Yuugi settled in for the night. Sometime around two in the morning someone would come to take his place.
And then he would eat.
"Good news!"
Yuugi looked up from where he sat. He was trying to coax Merishu to drink. Merishu's lips were cracked and dry, and Yuugi was afraid he was getting dehydrated.
Hebony got to her knees. Her dark face was split in half by a large smile.
"Wonderful news."
Yuugi stared at her blankly. He hated running between one sickroom and another; he was never entirely sure what was going on anymore.
"The pharaoh. They say his fever's broken. They say he's awake. You saved him, Aibou."
Yuugi smiled, but it was strained. Atem was one matter. Merishu was another entirely. Even when Yuugi had started doubling the amount of "medicine" Merishu was taking, he'd shown no real improvement.
"That's great."
"He's been asking for you."
Yuugi looked down at Merishu, who had fallen asleep in his lap. His fever was down, though still unbroken, and that was one small blessing.
"I can stay here. You go to him."
Yuugi nodded in surrender and transferred the little body into Hebony's lap. If Merishu wanted to sleep, fine. It might do some good for him. Yuugi bent his knees - sitting for hours at a time had a way of making them stiff - and headed for Atem's room.
His first impression - that Atem was sleeping in Idut's lap as Merishu had slept in Yuugi's - proved incorrect. As soon as Idut greeted him, Atem's eyes fluttered open.
"You're here."
Yuugi nodded. "Hebony came for me."
Atem beckoned him closer, and Yuugi went. Atem reached for his hand. Atem's grip was light, fluttering, unsure. Yuugi was reminded of Grandma Mutou in the last year or so before she died. Once in awhile she would call Yuugi in to read with him - she wanted, she said, for Yuugi to have a better way to remember her than just stuck full of tubes - and when she'd taken his hands, her grip had been like that. Yuugi wanted to pull away. He didn't.
Atem's voice was quiet and somehow liquid. "Meri."
"He's downstairs. Hebony's with him right now."
"Idut said - "Atem was stopped by a coughing fit almost theatrical in its proportions. "Him, too."
The question was fragmented, but Yuugi understood it well enough. "His fever's down today. He might be okay."
If Atem had had more strength, Yuugi thought he would have nodded. Instead he tried to squeeze Yuugi's hand. He mostly succeeded. "Take care of him."
"I am." Believe me, I'm doing everything I can. He should be outside chasing butterflies or something, not stuck in a room coughing his guts out. He's only eight fucking years old. The thought was unusually savage, but Yuugi didn't bother being shocked at it. He was exhausted, frustrated beyond belief, and he thought he could be forgiven for thinking in terms of the forbidden F-word.
Atem nodded. His head fell to the side, his strength exhausted, and Yuugi brushed the fringe off his face absentmindedly. Atem shifted in Idut's arms, and his breathing deepened. Idut took Yuugi's hand and squeezed it. Yuugi squeezed back.
"You should rest," she said. "You'll be next."
Yuugi looked up at her, and something in his smile frightened her. Had Yuugi been shown that cheshire grin, he would have recognised it as the product of too much stress and not enough sleep.
"I'll be all right."
"How do you know that?"
Yuugi glanced down at Atem's face. Even in sleep it was strained. The vertical line between the eyebrows - the one Yuugi's mother called the I-want line - stood out sharply. If Atem had lived to be an old man, Yuugi thought, that line would have become permanently engraved in his skin. He ran his fingers through the golden fringe one more time, and Atem's face relaxed. The I-want line disappeared.
"Because," he said. "I have to be."
Yuugi ran his fingers through Atem's hair. Then he yawned, trying to hide it. He was well aware that he was pushing his luck, sleeping only in two- and three-hour bursts and no more than five hours a day, but there were more pressing issues to be dealt with right now. Atem sighed, the sound short and still unhealthy.
"You're exhausting yourself, little Aibou."
Yuugi resisted the urge to shrug. If he did, Atem would likely slide right off the bed and onto the floor. Not a good place for a sick man to be.
"I'll be all right."
Atem shook his head. The motion was heavy against Yuugi's chest. "You should stay here tonight."
"You said I'm exhausting myself. I have to sleep sometime."
"Sleep here."
"Who's going to watch you if I do?"
Atem rested a hand on top of Yuugi's, wrapped around Atem's waist, holding him upright. "I trust you."
"Then you're insane."
"They say so," Atem agreed, and closed his eyes.
Yuugi sighed. Atem had been an exemplary patient, taking whatever Yuugi threw at him - no privacy, complete lack of activity, four daily doses of bread-mold - with no protest. The result was a slow but steady improvement, but Yuugi had an idea that if he didn't surrender at least once, that would change. He had enough problems with Merishu, whose eyes had been glazed with fever when Yuugi left him with Idut. He didn't need to send Atem into a relapse.
"You do realise I'll still probably have to leave before you wake up."
"That's fine."
Yuugi's thumbs rubbed circles in Atem's palms. The fever and delirium had departed, but had left behind them a bone-deep chill in Atem's hands and feet. Yuugi only hoped the strange lapse in circulation was temporary.
"And if I have to get up in the middle of the night to get you breathing, I won't stay here again.. You really need someone with you who's awake."
"All right."
"You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I kind of miss you arguing with people." Yuugi's hands slipped up to Atem's fingers, bending them one by one. "You shouldn't be agreeing with everything people say. It's weird."
"I don't have the energy to argue, little Aibou." Atem coughed. Yuugi reached for the bowl of water - boiled, he'd made sure of it - by Atem's bedside and held it while Atem drank.
"I'm bored."
Yuugi bit his lip to stifle a laugh. Atem was still too sick to even walk on his own, but some things would never change.
"I could tell you a story if you wanted." Yuugi thought Atem might be well enough to play his version of checkers if someone put the board in his lap, but Yuugi wasn't about to say so. Tomorrow, maybe. Not tonight, when his goal was to get Atem to sleep.
"What kind of story would you tell?"
Yuugi paused. The fairy tales he and Anzu had grown up on were clearly not appropriate. Not only were they for much younger people, Yuugi could just imagine Atem's commentary on Goldilocks or Little Red Riding-Hood. The myths Jii-chan had told him later as bedtime stories were likewise out of the question. Homer's tales of Odysseus would likely make little impression on a man who lived in the desert, and if Atem happened to know anything about Greek mythology, Yuugi would likely end up dead for fraternising with the enemy, or something. He and Anzu had devoured each Harry Potter book as soon as it came out, Anzu going so far as to order English-language versions online instead of waiting the six months to a year for a translation, but there was no end to the story yet, and Yuugi didn't think Atem would take well to that. Not to mention the difficulty of explaining the Hogwarts Express or the Weasleys' flying car.
And then Yuugi had it.
"It's about hobbits."
Atem's brow wrinkled. "About what?"
"Hobbits. They're these little people that look like men, but only about half the height. And they don't usually wear sandals, because their feet are really tough and covered in hair."
"Is this a story from your country, little Aibou?"
Yuugi started laughing. "No way. It's from England."
Yuugi almost wished for a camera to capture the confusion on Atem's face. "England is another country, but not your own?"
"Yes. Very far from here." Also, it won't exist for another fifteen hundred years or so.
"If you come from a place that isn't England, little Aibou, then how do you know the story?"
Yuugi was stuck. Atem didn't know what a book was, and the idea of mass media would be completely beyond him.
"People from my country trade with people from England. Probably someone from my country heard the stories about the hobbits and told them to other people because they liked them. I know I do," Yuugi said, offering what was probably a highly-romanticised version of the truth.
"Tell me about these hobbits, then."
Yuugi paused to consider. He much preferred Frodo and Samwise to Bilbo and the dwarfs, but telling the story about the Ring and the journey to Mordor would involve more backstory than Yuugi wanted to try to weave in on his own. Also, there were words he would have to use either the English or Japanese for, and he thought he would rather start with Gollum and the Arkenstone than with Cirith Ungol and Éowyn.
"There are a few stories about hobbits," Yuugi began at last. "The first one is just called 'The Hobbit,' but Bilbo Baggins, the hobbit who had the adventure and knows more about it than anyone else, called it 'There and Back Again.' Bilbo lived in Middle-Earth, in a part of the country called the Shire, where only hobbits lived. Hobbits are really shy and very fast, which is why you almost never see them. They don't like adventures, and they're very suspicious of heroes, because you have to have adventures to be a hero."
Yuugi's version of Bilbo's adventure was somewhat abridged, mostly because he had to either cut out or make up parts he didn't remember. He was pretty sure the Rivendell part was scarred beyond all recognition, and he thought he might have given Bullroarer Took the wrong relation to Bilbo, but Atem didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, he was following Yuugi closely, asking questions that would have made Yuugi's literature teacher proud. Yuugi wondered if he'd made a mistake offering up a new story, and if he'd be sleeping at all tonight.
"So Bilbo ran away, but in his panic, he turned down the wrong tunnel, and before too long he found himself in the very heart of the mountain," Yuugi narrated. "Bilbo came to the edge of a large pool, and then he had to stop, because everyone knows hobbits can't swim."
"And was he caught?"
"Not exactly. The orcs didn't like to go to the heart of the mountain, because a lot of the time orcs who went there never came back. Bilbo was wondering if maybe he should turn back and try his luck against the orcs when he heard a boat on the water. There was no light because his sword had stopped glowing, but he could see two big, orange lamps floating above the water, and a really skinny, ugly, pale body beneath, and that was Gollum."
Yuugi found himself improvising wildly when he got to the riddling contest. Atem understood answers like eggs and fish, but there were others he would never have guessed in a thousand years. Yuugi found himself making up riddles that he could only hope made sense, replacing Bilbo's riddle about daisies with one about grapes because of the marked lack of daisies in Egypt. He continued the story up until Bilbo escaped Gollum and the orcs and made it back to the dwarfs, and there he stopped. Atem shifted impatiently.
"And your party of dwarfs, did they ever make it to this city of Dale beyond the Long Lake?"
"There's a lot more to the story. I'll tell you tomorrow, I promise." If he was lucky, he might be able to make the adventures of the Bagginses and their friends last until Atem was back on his feet and had no more need for stories.
As it turned out, Yuugi would not keep his promise.
Yuugi awoke to the sound of screaming. He slid into his robe and tied his wrap as he ran, not even stopping to put on his sandals. If the palace were being invaded - unlikely but possible - he would take a knife from the kitchen quarter and head back to Atem's room to join whatever guard might be posted there, and he would fight until he dropped.
When he reached the slave quarter, he only wished he could be part of a guard. The invasion had already happened, and had claimed no prisoners - only a victim.
Shemei sat on the floor of Merishu's sickroom, his body in her arms. Yuugi watched automatically for Merishu's belly to rise with his next breath.
It did not.
Yuugi slipped through the crowd of slaves. Shemei saw him and accosted him.
"Aibou - "
He knew what she wanted. One look at Merishu's lips, normally the colour of wine and now tinged with blue, told him it was probably too late. Yuugi felt for a pulse anyway. If there was any chance at all -
There was not.
Suddenly the room seemed too small, the people too close. Yuugi lowered his eyes as a low murmur rippled through the group. Shemei began wailing again. Yuugi heard a commotion among the slaves. He didn't look up. He'd failed. Merishu would never play tag with his brother again.
"What's going on here?" Set's voice, rough with sleep and confused anger. "It's the middle of the - "
He stopped.
Yuugi heard the rustle of fabric. Mahado knelt down next to Shemei and put a hand on her shoulder. Shemei's screams dissolved into the kind of tears that had always made Yuugi's stomach ache when he was done crying, loud and deep.
"Slave Aibou."
Yuugi moved his head to acknowledge that he heard. He heard all too well.
"Is there nothing to be done?"
Yuugi shook his head without looking up. He felt a pair of tears trickling silently down his face and made no attempt to brush them away. Somewhere above him, Set sighed.
"Someone has to tell him."
There was no doubt which "him" Set meant. Merishu had only two living relatives, and one of them was female. Yuugi cringed. He could imagine all too well standing by Atem's bed, giving him the news.
I know I said I'd take care of him, but something went wrong. The medicine didn't do what it's supposed to. He died. I'm sorry.
If he were the one who had to deliver the news, he imagined Merishu's death wouldn't be the only one in the palace tonight. He couldn't even plead innocence by way of only being the messenger.
There was another rustle of fabric. Yuugi saw a pair of legs out of the corner of his eye. A hand descended gently onto Merishu's head.
"May your heart speak only the truth to the gods, little one."
The tone was one Yuugi would never have suspected Set capable of. Suddenly he hoped Set would be the one to tell Atem. He was not a man who took well to stupidity, and he told the truth as he saw it, but Yuugi had the sudden feeling Set was also well-practiced in the art of tact where it was necessary. And better the news be delivered by a friend than a slave.
Mahado rubbed Shemei's shoulder, a small act of comfort, and rose to his feet. He followed Set out of the room. Yuugi waited for someone to tell Shemei to be quiet - probably Ankhnadin, if Yuugi had the priests pegged as well as he thought and all of them were here - but nobody did. Yuugi sat as the crowd dissipated. He still had no idea how to address the woman sitting to his left. She had trusted him to heal her son, and he'd failed her. He heard her take a deep and wavering breath. Maybe she was going to yell at him. Yuugi almost hoped she would. Anything would be better than this heavy weight, tension under which Yuugi thought he might finally snap.
Shemei did not yell at him. She only asked him to get a bowl of water, a large one, and soap.
Yuugi did.
Yuugi looked at the tiny body lying on the mat. He had spent the morning and part of the afternoon going through the motions of Shemei's usual tasks, while in the room that had become Merishu's deathroom Shemei and Idut bathed Merishu's body and dressed him. Yuugi had wanted to see him again. He didn't look exactly right - no fancy death-makeup for Merishu - but he was supposed to be interred in his father's tomb, and the next time any of them saw him, he wouldn't look like Merishu at all anymore.
Yuugi wanted to leave him something. It had been Yuugi's practice since his father's death to leave a yen for the boatman, but here there was no yen and no boatman, only a passage through the hall of judgment. Yuugi had gone early that day into the little room where he slept and retrieved a small string of wooden beads Atem had given him, and now he tucked those into Merishu's hand instead. It was the only personal item he had, the only currency available. One of the other slaves gathered around the body looked at him curiously. Yuugi didn't bother meeting her gaze.
There was a noise in the corridor outside the room. Yuugi didn't look up, but he could hardly miss the familiar rustling as the slaves around him touched their foreheads to the floor. Yuugi didn't join them, nor did he wonder how or why Atem had gotten out of bed on his own.
He had come to mourn.
Even with his eyes fixed on Merishu's face Yuugi could count the legs on the other side of the mat. Six. Under other circumstances Yuugi might have wondered who had supported Atem through the long corridors and down two flights of stairs.
Atem knelt on the other side of the little body, laid on its side facing west, one hand under the head. He ran his fingers through the neat sidelock, long and black, and over the shaved skin, enveloped the small hand with one of his own. He found the string of beads inside the loosely curled fist. Yuugi felt Atem's eyes on his bowed head, but did not look up. He wondered if he'd ever be able to look Atem in the face again.
Atem slipped the beads out of Merishu's hand, tied the string gently around the little wrist, kissed the back of the hand before lowering it back to the mat.
All around him, Yuugi could feel slaves turning away, leaving. He saw a tear land on Merishu's cheek, the long brown fingers that brushed it away, and he understood. He got to his feet, found the robe he'd abandoned earlier in the day, and draped it gently over Atem's bare shoulders before heading for the door.
Atem's voice stopped him.
"You left this with him."
Yuugi did not turn around, but knew that Atem's fingers were on the string of beads.
"They're for the boatman," Yuugi said, still facing away.
"The boatman." It was not a question, but it asked for confirmation all the same.
"The boatman who takes you across the river into the afterlife."
Atem asked him a question he didn't understand. He thought he might have heard the last word while talking to Jii-chan or one of Jii-chan's friends, but he couldn't remember.
"I don't understand."
"It's your gift. To ensure he makes it through judgment safely."
"Something like that."
He left before Atem could ask him anything more.
Yuugi's chest hurt. He thought it might be the result of the tears he'd spent the day shedding in a silence so complete the other slaves found it eerie. Or maybe he'd finally caught pneumonia his own stupid self, and he was dying. The idea should not be so comforting, he thought as he coughed loudly. The sound was dry.
People with pneumonia did not have a dry cough.
Not pneumonia, then. Just a chest cold, probably caught while he was running himself ragged failing.
He told people he was fine. He would not be dying anytime soon. He asked Idut to take his place in Atem's room. He found some early dates and nibbled them slowly. They had no taste. Then he retreated to his bed. He did not trust himself to accomplish any given chore without getting someone sick. At some point someone left food outside his room. He ate it mechanically. Eventually he would have to return to the rest of the world. Then he would be held to account for Merishu's death. He would also be held to account for running off this way. Atem might get away with it, but Atem was not a slave.
Yuugi decided he didn't really care. He was beyond exhaustion, and so far into emotional burnout he wasn't sure he'd ever get back. He found he didn't care much about that, either. Instead, he turned his face to the wall and let himself sleep.
He had no idea how long he slept. When he woke up, he knew only that someone had left him a small bowl of beer and half a canteloupe. He ate and drank, left to take care of what his father had dubbed "nature's call," and then made his way to the kitchen quarter. He felt a good deal better physically. He was still suffering from sniffles and heartsickness, but sniffles were rarely contagious and heartsickness couldn't hurt anyone.
Yuugi expected a fair amount of bustle, and was surprised when he found only Idut, quietly eating bread and the other half of the canteloupe that had been left in his room. Her voice, when she spoke, was soothing.
"I think I woke you. I'm sorry."
Yuugi shrugged. "Don't worry about it." He sat down with her, wondering what time it was. Idut gave him a piece of her bread, and Yuugi ate it.
"So do you have any idea when my execution is?"
Idut's eyes were confused. "Execution?"
"When they're planning to kill me or torture me or whatever they're going to do."
Idut finished her bread. "They're not doing anything to you, Aibou. It's understood you've been doing far more than your share. Siamun told us to let you sleep."
"Merishu - "
"We're waiting to celebrate his death until the pharaoh can join us."
Yuugi found it strange to call mourning a celebration, but he didn't bother commenting. Death was as common as life here, no big deal, really. Except when you were seventeen years old and the dead person was your only known surviving relative, Yuugi thought. He had little doubt Atem would have something to say about that.
"What time is it?" Yuugi wanted something more to drink. He didn't draw it.
"Just after moonset. Madu's upstairs now."
Yuugi tried to not show his surprise. He'd slept almost a full twelve hours, but he was still exhausted, and had somehow expected it to be no later than sunset. He yawned in spite of himself.
"You should sleep, Aibou."
"I already did that."
"You're not due back to the pharaoh's side until tomorrow evening, and I don't think anyone expects you to actually make it there until the day after tomorrow at the earliest. You should sleep." Her smile was soft and sad, but tried to be reassuring all the same. "We can manage for a few days."
Now that Merishu's gone, Yuugi's mind added. Now that there's only one to watch for.
He listened anyway, padding back down the familiar corridors to the little room with the feather tick. He expected sleep to come slowly in spite of his exhaustion. He had no chance to be surprised at its swift descent.
