Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! nor its characters. I also do not profit from this work of fiction.

A/N: Feel free to follow me on Twitter (uglybuffet) for writing updates, line excerpts, life tidbits, and more! If you're a writer, you can also feel free to ask me anything you'd like and I will try my very best to help you.

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Summary: Disturbing news brings Yuugi's whole life to a grinding halt. Who broke up with whom now?

Warning: Language

Chapter 25: A House And A Home

"You broke up with me," Yuugi parroted hollowly.

Astounded with his words, Yuugi stood just inside Atemu's doorway, his blood running cold and his heartbeat in his ears. There was an echo in his head, repeating Atemu's phrase over and over on a loop without end. He did not understand. Last he knew, they had been doing well. Hell, Atemu had outright hugged him upon seeing him. Yet now they were broken up, had been for some time apparently, and it was complete news to Yuugi.

It was his breakup with Siegfried all over again.

Absently, Yuugi reached out and gripped the doorjamb, an abrupt dizziness taking him over. He felt more than saw as Atemu abruptly moved past him, glancing up and down the hall before turning back to Yuugi, anxiety in his gaze.

Slowly, Yuugi bent over and picked up the box he had dropped, holding it limply in the hand not currently acting as his grasp on reality. Heart racing, Yuugi finally understood he had just been dumped. Cut before they had even started dating.

Just when Yuugi had fallen for that charming smile.

Low in Yuugi's belly, something soured and began to rot in his gut.

"Yuugi –" Atemu started, but Yuugi cut him off as he smacked the box into Atemu's chest. Looking down at it, Atemu lifted his hands took the box with even more confusion. His brow furrowed, as if trying to understand why Yuugi had just handed him a box.

"To break up with someone," Yuugi said, clearing his throat of the slight wobble in his voice, "you have to be dating them." Turning fully, Yuugi faced Atemu, and his expression was carefully clear, even as his sinuses burned. "Which we weren't … actually," Yuugi said and he heard the squeak of the box as Atemu's hands clenched upon it. "You also have to tell the other person that there's been a breakup." Atemu raised his head, and Yuugi met his eyes. He could see the pieces clicking into place as Atemu stared at him, his brow creasing and his jaw clenching minutely.

"Yuusei didn't give you my message, did he?" he said, but it was not a question, and Yuugi felt something rancid turn in his stomach at the name. Suddenly, it all made sense.

Yuusei had lied to him. Kept him in the dark. He had him continue to believe that Atemu cared about him when Atemu had already decided to move on. Swallowing dryly, Yuugi took a breath, trying to calm the trembling in his hands as he brushed the bangs back from his face. Atemu's gaze darted to his fingers and Yuugi lowered them, quickly crossing his arms.

"No," Yuugi said, "but it would have been nice to know." He looked at the box Atemu held and he felt sick. Sick with the thought that he had made the cornets with love and hope. Sick that his wishes had been wasted. He looked up at Atemu and his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach when he thought he saw pity in that violet-red gaze. "Next time you break up with someone," Yuugi said steadily, "don't send a messenger. It's cowardly." He saw shame in Atemu as his shoulders slumped, and he did not feel any better for it. Lashing out at Atemu brought him no joy, no satisfaction. It only made him feel more miserable than he already did.

Carefully, he rounded Atemu, dropping his arms and looking down the hall to his way out of this embarrassing and painful situation. After all his reservations and fears, he had risked his heart, only to have it broken once again. He felt like an idiot.

He should have learned after Siegfried.

"I guess your mom has nothing to worry about now," he said and made to leave, eager to get away. "Sorry I came by."

There was a thump as the box of cornets hit the floor once again, and Atemu suddenly seized his forearm before he could take a single step. Quickly, Atemu spun him around, taking him by both arms and holding him still. His expression was shocked, eyes wide.

"What did you say about my mom?" he breathed.

Startled, it took Yuugi a moment to react. He tried pulling away, but Atemu's grip was too tight.

"L-let me go," Yuugi stuttered, and Atemu did. He stepped back, staring at his hands before looking to Yuugi.

"I'm sorry, little one," he apologized with regret, and his words pierced Yuugi's heart like an arrow shot straight through it, "I didn't mean to grab you like that." He paused for a moment, looking down the hall before meeting Yuugi's pained gaze. "What did you say about my mom?" he repeated urgently, his jaw tight.

It took Yuugi several seconds to recover, reigning in his quivering feelings before he could speak clearly.

"She came by a week ago," Yuugi said stiffly. "Told me to stay away from you." He tucked his trembling hands into his pockets then, jaw flexing as he swallowed thickly. "If she doesn't know already," Yuugi said, "tell her she doesn't have to worry about me anymore."

"Did she threaten you?" Atemu asked, his voice oddly still.

Yuugi looked at him, taking in his shuttered appearance. His traitorous heart yearned for Atemu in that moment and Yuugi looked away. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he shook his head.

"No," he said. He made to leave again, taking a single step before he abruptly paused, turning his head slightly. He could see Atemu standing still in the corner of his eyes, and he breathed quietly. "I'm glad," Yuugi said softly, almost too quiet to hear, but the hallway was so silent that even a pin drop would be heard. "I'm glad that you and your mom are getting along now … after everything." He saw Atemu shift, as though he would say something, but Yuugi was done trying to hold himself together. His eyes were burning with unshed tears, his heart aching like he had dropped it off a ten-story building. With the last of his composure, Yuugi let a final sentiment cross his shaking lips.

"I … truly hope you're h-happy, A-Atemu."

With that, he started down the hall, refusing to look back. He had no reason to anyway.

Atemu never even called his name.

x x x

"Oh, I'm sure this will make your father very happy."

Back stiffening, Atemu raised his head from where he was crouched, staring at the box from Yuugi's bakery. He had yet to pick it up. He was not sure how long it had been since he had dropped it to grab at Yuugi. It seemed like ages had passed, the anguish in his heart stabbing him without mercy in the bubble of his miserable reality. Turning his head, Atemu saw the man with green eyes and his jaw clenched with anger. Taking up the box, Atemu stood, tucking it carefully against him and glaring at the other person. The man was looking down at the screen of his camera, smiling wickedly.

"Wanna see?" he said, "I believe every man should see the effects of their art." He came closer, pausing before Atemu. Turning the camera, he showed Atemu the screen. Albeit, he was reluctant to see, but Atemu forced himself to look and his heart seized with sorrow. "Nice work," the man said, "I haven't seen that much pain in ages."

It was a picture of Yuugi as he fled the building. He was crying, hand covering half his face as he wiped away his tears.

Atemu closed his eyes, turning his head away.

"I told you to wait in the car while I finish packing," he said flatly. "Get out or I'll make you."

x x x

Knocking on the door, Yuugi waited, the blood rushing in his ears. He had run as fast as he could from Atemu's apartment building, unwilling to stay there a moment longer. His feet had carried him far before he had been able to slow. Now they ached as he stood there, staring at the door with tears welling in his eyes. It was late, almost ten at night, and he knew the occupant of the home to sleep early. However, Yuugi refused to move, biting his lip as it trembled.

The door unlocked in what felt like ages, and it swung open to reveal a woman with purplish-auburn hair, just the slightest bit taller than him. She stared at him with wide eyes for the longest moment, before she finally seemed to register the state he was in.

"Yuugi," she said.

"Hi, mom," Yuugi said, his voice tiny and unrecognizable with the tears brimming the edges, "is it okay if I spend the night?"

There was no hesitation in her nod, no reluctance as she spread her arms, beckoning him forward. With a sob, Yuugi crumbled into her arms, hugging her tight.

"Tadaima, kaa-san," Yuugi said, slipping into his mother's native tongue, and his mother nodded, laying her chin on his head as she rubbed his back in comfort.

"Okaeri, Yuugi," she replied softly.

x x x

Staring up at the large estate, a white colonial with pillars flanking the porch and the walkway lit with path lights on either side, Atemu took a deep breath. He let it out slowly, trying to reign in his erratic emotions. Before him, the man with black hair and green eyes waited, eyeing him with amusement.

Atemu was angry.

From the moment Otogi had shown him Yuugi's picture, Atemu had been filled with a stifling fury. He wanted nothing more than to run to Yuugi and take everything back – to take Yuugi into his arms and breathe in the smell of sweet bread and sweat that hung on his skin after a day of work. Atemu wanted to throw everything aside and be happy with Yuugi – to hell with everything else.

But he could not. Yuugi's safety and peace of mind hung in the balance, precarious and precious. Clenching his fists at his sides, Atemu felt hopeless.

"Are you just going to stand there?" the PI said. A derisive smile spread his lips when Atemu's eyes narrowed, his stomach festering with hatred. "Your father is paying me to bring you in, not to dawdle outside."

Atemu loathed him.

"Hey, Otogi," Atemu said, his throat tight with restraint, and the man lifted his chin slightly, listening, "go fuck yourself." With that, he shoved past him, rolling his suitcase up the steps and knocking on the door harshly. The door opened in no time at all, an unfamiliar face greeting him with a slight bow as she opened the door.

"Welcome, Master Atemu," she greeted softly. She did not meet his gaze as he walked in, instead closing the door after Otogi. "Hello again, Mr. Otogi."

"Hello, sweet Luz," he replied, and she smiled tightly at him before quickly moving to Atemu's side.

"I'll gladly take your things –" she began when Atemu cut her off.

"No need," Atemu said, not unkindly, "I can take them myself." He looked around the foyer, noting that no one else was present. He was suddenly struck with painful nostalgia, frozen for a single moment as he registered his surroundings. Everything looked exactly as he had left it, and in a second of panic, he felt almost as if he had never left. However, the presence of the new maid beside him negated that thought. "Where are they?" he asked.

"Mr. and Mrs. Muuran are in the sitting room," she said quietly. "They await your presence."

"Thanks," Atemu said, and he started for the sitting room, grimacing at the walls he passed. He had spent years trying to forget the place, only to find himself there once again. Taking a deep breath, he entered the sitting room and immediately spotted his mother sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, wearing casual white pants and a pastel yellow blouse. His father was nowhere to be seen.

His mother looked around, violet-red eyes taking him in silently. She stood then and Atemu paused at the end of the couch, watching her with his heart in his throat. When he saw her in Yuugi's shop, he had been much too stunned to really look at her. But like his father, she had not changed. Yet instead of feeling angry, Atemu felt an odd sense of relief. Before he could properly study the emotion, he recalled Yuugi's earlier words. They still resonated inside him, and he grit his teeth.

"I'm glad you're finally home," Adira said with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

"Let's not do that thing where we pretend to be a big, happy family," Atemu said lowly, "I'm here for one reason and only one. And it's got nothing to do with this fucked up family."

"You will address your mother with respect," his father said from behind him, and Atemu stiffened. He felt his father move to his side and place a hand on his shoulder. "There will be zero tolerance for your misbehavior, Atemu," he continued, "play your part and things will sail a lot more smoothly for you."

"I'll be the good son in the public eye," Atemu growled, ripping away from his father's hold, "but don't expect me to pretend like you're not blackmailing me into doing what you want." He looked at his mother, his chest tight. "You can do what you want to me, but just so you know, if either of you ever go near Yuugi again, you can go ahead and rot in hell." Her expression twitched minutely, and his father hummed behind him.

"You will have respect," his father said idly, "or that baker you so care for will pay the consequences of your actions."

Eyes widening, Atemu turned to stare at his father. He was dressed in navy slacks, brown loafers, and a tan wool sweater over a button-up. He was the very picture of a storybook father. But he was no less intimidating, and Atemu knew better than to fall for such a mirage.

"You didn't think I would punish you, did you?" his father said with a smile. "What use would that be when I know very well you don't care for your own well-being?" He chuckled, reaching out and placing his heavy hand on Atemu's shoulder. He looked into Atemu's eyes, taking in his stupefaction. "Oh, son," he said, "you made a great mistake in getting attached." He sighed. "You're still learning, I suppose."

The rabid fight drained out of Atemu like the color on his face and his gut clenched with fear.

"Father," Atemu said quietly, "leave Yuugi alone … please. I'll be good." With that, Atemu departed the room, shoving past an amused Otogi, and heading up the grand staircase, following the familiar route to his old room. When he got there, he walked in and shut the door, leaning against it as he breathed shallowly. He had endured so much, scraped by with only his own wits to guide him, only to be stuck back in the place he had often revisited in his nightmares. Closing his eyes, Atemu's knees weakened with despair and he slid to the floor. He breathed, fighting the crushing feeling of claustrophobia. Once again, he was trapped without escape and the worst part of all was that there would be nothing left for him when it was over.

Atemu could hear Yuusei's words in his head, telling him to go to the police and throw his parents in jail. His problems would be solved. He could be with Yuugi and be happy. But as he pictured his father in an orange jumpsuit, sitting within a cell, a memory came to him.

.

Seven years old, Atemu walked out onto the field, taking the bat from his coach and heading for home base. He did not bother looking up at the stands. His parents would not be there. They never were. So when he felt a hand on his shoulder, Atemu looked around in confusion to see his coach jabbing a thumb in the direction of the bleachers.

"Look, kiddo, your dad made it!" he said excitedly.

"My dad is working," Atemu said dimly, but the coach motioned again and Atemu looked. He searched for a moment before his eyes finally settled on his father's face among the parents in the crowd for the very first time. His father, held up a hand and pointed, attempting to direct Atemu back to his game, but Atemu was smiling, too happy for words. "Dad!" He waved, and his father quickly waved back before pointing him to home base. Nodding, Atemu went, pumped with newfound motivation. He stepped up to the plate, taking the bat with both hands and grinning at the pitcher.

Today, no one would stop him from impressing his father.

And they could not. Atemu scored a home run, dodging the opposing team as they tried to tag him before he got to a base. He was untouchable, flying like a bird and swinging like he had been born to do it. And at the end of the game, Atemu skipped the celebratory pizza dinner with his team. He ran to his father instead, smiling wide and unable to stop as he proudly presented his MVP trophy. His father smiled down at him, a smile rarely seen on his features. It was like Christmas had come early, and Atemu felt emotion well up inside him, his hands trembling.

"I won, dad," Atemu said, and his father nodded, smiling with pride as he reached out and placed his hand on Atemu's shoulder. Squeezing gently, he replied.

"I'm proud of you, my son."

.

Heart squeezing in his chest, Atemu reached up and covered his face, thinking instead of his mother sitting on the other side of a thick window, her beautiful red hair unkempt and the polish on her once-perfect nails chipped. Unbidden, a memory came to him, and Atemu took a deep breath.

.

Sitting on the piano stool, an eight-year-old Atemu glared at the keys before him before glancing out at the double doors. They were open, the sunlight pouring through and the warm breeze rustling the chiffon curtains hanging from them. He ached to go outside. His instructor had just left, but not without reprimanding him for not practicing. Reaching out, Atemu wrinkled his nose and spitefully began to play the right hand beginning notes of The Celebrated Chop Waltz by Euphemia Allan with two fingers. He quickly grew bored, however, and slipped into Mozart's Twelve Variations on "Ah vous dirai-je, Maman". When he finished that one, he paused, sighing as he thought of his instructor tattling on him. He did not want to get grounded for not practicing. So with a great breath, Atemu stretched his fingers and let them hover over the keys. Breathing out, he began to play Beethoven's Fuer Elise, his favorite piece of music. His fingers stumbled on a note and he paused, sighing.

"Try again," said a soft voice, and Atemu nearly jumped out of his skin, turning his head to see his mother standing behind him, a gentle smile at her lips. "Try again, Atemu," she murmured, whispering the tips of her fingers along his shoulder in an affectionate caress. When Atemu only stared at her with surprise, she nudged him lightly and he shuffled to the side, blinking in astonishment as she seated herself beside him, her long hair brushing his shoulder. "Come on," she said, "I'll accompany you."

She placed her fingers on the keys, glancing at him briefly. Nodding, Atemu moved his hand accordingly and began to play. She played along, and Atemu smiled to himself, happy that his mother had joined him. But when he messed up the same note again, he flinched, expecting to be scolded. However, when no scolding came, Atemu peeked to see his mother smiling down at him, almost wistfully. She reached out a hand, brushing his bangs from his face and leaned in to place a kiss on his brow.

"You deserve so much," she whispered, and Atemu felt confused at her words. He did not understand what she meant though he suspected she was planning on gifting him something. His thoughts trailed to a puppy and he brightened. He had always wanted a puppy. "Let's try again, okay, sweetie?" she said, and Atemu quickly nodded. He would do anything to keep her next to him at that moment. Atemu would swim to the moon if it meant that his mother would continue to smile and spend time with him.

"Yes, mommy."

.

Tearing himself away from his memories, Atemu breathed raggedly, rubbing at his wet face in frustration. Even now, Atemu still did not understand what his mother's words had meant. But he pushed the thought of them away, revisiting the image of his parents in a prison where they could no longer harm him or anyone else. However, the image was just that, a fantasy. No matter how badly things had gone, it had not always been that way and Atemu could not bear to put his parents in prison. They had loved him once, and a part of Atemu still loved them even despite all the horrible bullshit he had gone through. He knew he was a complete moron for it, but Atemu simply did not have the heart to turn his parents in. They were his parents. Even if they did not care for him the way he wanted them to, they still wanted him in their lives.

Wiping again at his tears, Atemu looked up at his room. It was different from before, the only shift in an otherwise stagnant house. The walls were bare and the furniture had been moved around. It was barren of his belongings, a blank slate.

A blank slate, Atemu thought, maybe that's what we need.

x x x

Yuugi woke to the smell of fried rice. With that single scent, he knew his mother was making a fried rice omelet. It was a very particular smell, the mixture of eggs, rice, mushrooms, and onion fried up in a pan, and the nostalgia it brought was strong enough to launch Yuugi into the past. That feeling of comfort, surrounded by his blankets, was just what Yuugi needed. Lying there with his eyes closed and the familiar scents of home around him, he could almost pretend that he was a teen again, moments from being woken by his mother to go get ready for school before going to the kitchen to eat a filling breakfast.

Almost.

Unfortunately, Yuugi knew better. He could not pretend he was a teen again. The torment of his most recent romantic failure was not something he could soon forget. It simmered in his belly with an ache that traveled up his esophagus to slip into his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Opening his eyes, Yuugi stared at the desk by his bed, comforted by the familiarity of the white paint on the wood. His room had remained unchanged, his old games, collectibles, and limited edition Duel Monster plushes carefully arranged on the shelf on the other side of the room, dust-free. Though he no longer lived there, Yuugi could see that his mother still took great care of his room.

Sitting up, Yuugi pushed the covers away and stood, pulling his phone from the desk's edge. Tapping at it, he realized it had died sometime during the night, and he sighed. Glancing around, he could see by the height of the sun beyond the window, that he had stayed in bed longer than he usually did. It was time to get up and deal with reality. Breathing heavily, Yuugi tucked his phone away and turned to quickly make the bed before he left the room.

"That you, Yuugi?" he heard his mother call down the hall, and Yuugi smiled to himself.

"Yeah, mom," he called back, "going to the bathroom." He retreated into the bathroom, quickly going through his morning routine before he came out and ventured down the hall into the kitchen where his mother was setting down a plate next to a glass of orange juice.

"I was about to go wake you," she said with a smile, "feel better?"

Suddenly, Yuugi remembered his grand arrival the night before and he blushed in embarrassment. He raised hands, brushing his bangs back behind his ears as he sat at the table.

"Yeah," he said sheepishly, "sorry about showing up like that, mom."

"It's alright," she said as she began to wash the dishes, "I had to cancel some things today, but it's always nice to see my favorite son."

"I'm your only son, mom," Yuugi mumbled as he dug into the omelet.

"Let me guess," she said, turning off the water and moving around to lean against the sink, wiping her hands with a small towel. She set it aside. "Boy troubles?"

In answer, Yuugi touched the side of his nose and grabbed the bottle of ketchup his mom had left nearby. He squeezed some onto his plate and his mother sighed.

"Want to tell me what happened?" she asked, and Yuugi shrugged.

"I was stupid and fell for someone too young to know what he wants," Yuugi muttered as he stuffed his mouth with egg and rice.

"How young?" his mother asked sharply, and Yuugi winced. Lowering the fork from his mouth, he swallowed thickly, coughing.

"Eighteen?" he said meekly.

"Are you asking or saying?" she retorted, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. Suddenly, Yuugi felt sixteen all over again, caught as he was trying to sneak out the window to join Jounouchi at a new club.

"Saying," Yuugi said, "he's eighteen."

"Well," his mom said with a sigh, deflating, "I can't say I approve. You did meet this young man after he turned eighteen, right?"

"Yes!" Yuugi insisted. "He's turning nineteen soon."

"Oh, Yuugi," his mother said, and her expression turned sad. "You know better than anyone else how stupid boys can be."

"Thanks, mom," Yuugi said wryly, and she shrugged as she made her way over to him. Hugging him tightly around his chest, she pressed a kiss to the side of his brow. "But you're not wrong."

"I know," she said with a slight laugh, "your father was one of them."

"Was he?" Yuugi asked doubtfully, recalling the stern man he called father, serious to a fault. "That doesn't sound like dad," he said.

"Are you kidding?" his mother said with a huff. "The man was king of first dates … until he met me." Raising his eyebrows, Yuugi looked down at his food.

"How have I never heard this story before?" Yuugi said, and his mother hummed thoughtfully.

"You're not a little boy anymore," she said frankly. "You can understand now. You're an adult, Yuugi."

"Yeah," Yuugi mumbled, his heart thumping dully in his chest as his thoughts conjured Atemu's handsome face. He ducked his head, his bangs falling from behind his ears. "I know."

"Why does that sound like you really wish you weren't?" she said softly, brushing his bangs back into place.

"Maybe if I were younger," Yuugi said, "Atemu would have liked me more."

"Yuugi," his mother said firmly, "if that boy can't see what a catch you are, he doesn't deserve you. Just like that – what was his name? Siegfried? He didn't deserve you either. I don't mean to kick you while you're down, but you have terrible taste in men, sweetie."

"Gee, thanks, mom," Yuugi said and he sighed heavily. "I know you're right, but that doesn't make it suck any less or make me stop wishing he still liked me."

His mother was quiet for a moment, hand rubbing idly at his back before she leaned her cheek on his shoulder.

"You know the great thing about your mom?" she said softly.

"You always have ice cream on hand?" Yuugi tried, and she laughed, shaking her head.

"Only have the sugar-free sherbet kind because of your father's diabetes," she said, and Yuugi wrinkled his nose. "But no, the great thing about your mom is that she'll always love you even when a stupid boy doesn't." She pecked him on the cheek and Yuugi felt his sinuses burn as his affection for his mother surged. Turning in his seat, Yuugi hugged his mother. "I know that may not be much in light of what you're feeling right now," she said, "but I'll always be here for you, Yuugi."

"Thanks, mom," Yuugi mumbled, sniffling, "that actually means a lot."

x x x

There was a knock on his bedroom door, and Atemu briefly lifted his head to glance at it from his place on the bed. He had not slept, lying wide awake in the quiet room until the sun had risen in the east. No one had disturbed him. Neither his parents or the household staff had come to check on him. Bereft, Atemu had gotten up, exhausted from tossing and turning all night, and sat at the foot of the bed with the intention of unpacking his things. However, it was already some time later, and the suitcase was still standing before him with the duffel stacked on top of it. Sitting on the bed, immovable and hunched over with his elbows perched on his knees, Atemu had not touched it. As much as he silently encouraged himself to get it over with, his limbs were leadened and welded into place with reluctance.

His heart hurt too much to do anything productive. However, his feelings were anything but relevant to the person in the hallway. The knock came again and Atemu took a breath.

"I don't need anything," Atemu called to the closed door of his bedroom.

"Are you decent?" the voice of his mother called through the wood, and Atemu clenched his hands in his lap. Gritting his teeth, Atemu felt his shoulders draw up tight and his stomach sour.

"What do you want?" he called flatly.

"May I come in?" Adira asked, and Atemu let out a heavy sigh.

"Do I have a choice?" he muttered to himself before raising his voice to say, "Yeah."

The knob turned, but Atemu did not lift his head to see the door pushed inward. He felt more than he heard her stand in his entryway for the briefest of seconds before walking in and shutting the door behind her. Still, Atemu did not look at her, staring instead at his things.

"You haven't unpacked," she noted. "And you haven't changed out of your clothes."

"No," was all Atemu replied.

"Do you need help?" she asked, and Atemu entwined his fingers together, his fingertips and knuckles turning white as he squeezed with all his might. He fought the urge snap at her and breathed shakily. His hands were trembling with his restraint, and he took a deep breath before he let go.

"No," he said as steadily as he could, "I'll unpack later. I just wanted to get used to this." He motioned vaguely at the room before clasping his hands together once more.

"You've had since last night to get used to it," she said. "You should sort your things. You have school tomorrow."

Atemu turned his face to the side, away from her, and he closed his eyes. His stomach was clinched so tight that it hurt.

"I will," he said, keeping his tone civil. It would not do to talk back or express his anger in any way. His father had threatened Yuugi, and Atemu refused to let Akhenamkhanen hurt him for something as foolish as sating his anger. "Anything else, mother?"

"Breakfast?" she asked then, and Atemu chewed the inside of his cheek.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled.

Slowly, she walked across the room and seated herself on the other end of his bed, turning her knees towards him.

"Why are you so angry with me?" she asked outright, and Atemu almost burst into a cackle. He choked on his laughter, turning his head to stare at her in his utter bafflement. She wore a kaftan dress today, black with champagne embroidery. As always, she looked perfect.

"Why?" he asked. "Are you really asking me that?" At her nod, he took several breaths before he finally spoke. "You told Yuugi to stay away from me," he said, "and I don't even know what for." Freeing his hands from their incognizant death grip, Atemu stood from the bed, straightening. "Father told me to stay away from him, and I thought – I thought maybe it was because neither of you are cool with me dating a guy." He extended his arms wide, indicating his confusion with a shrug. "But the more I think about it," he said, "the more it doesn't make sense. Father told me to stay away from him, not to not date guys. You went to Yuugi and told him to leave me alone – I just don't understand.

"Is it that he's too old for me?" Atemu continued, pointing to himself as his mother gazed at him placidly, her expression unchanged. "It's six years," Atemu said desperately, "why does that matter?" He raised a hand to his head, running his digits through his hair. "Six years – father's got sixteen on you!" Atemu snapped. "You can't sit there and tell me Yuugi's too old for me when father's old enough to be your father."

A crease in her brow cracked her calm façade.

"Enough," his mother said quietly. "I'll hear no more of this –"

"No," Atemu said, "no, no, no. The least I deserve is an explanation! Why can't I be with Yuugi if it's not because he's a man or because he's older than me?" Atemu gritted his teeth, fighting the need to shout, his voice strained with the effort. "I need to know why I can't be with the guy I love," Atemu said, breathing heavily. "I deserve to know why." He hesitated as a sudden thought occurred to him. His stomach turned over with dread and he opened his mouth. "Is there something about him you know that I don't?" He watched her closely, waiting, and her jaw clenched imperceptibly. Had he not been looking for signs, he would have missed it. Despite his years apart, her tells had not changed. A heavy stone settled in Atemu's stomach.

"Date whomever you please," his mother said, "just not him."

"But why?" Atemu pleaded, "Is it money? Is he too poor for this family?"

"You don't even know that," she retorted. "You say you love him and you don't even know his financial situation –"

"My heart fell in love with him, not his money!" Atemu said irately, reaching up to grasp at the cloth over his chest with both hands. "Don't even try to manipulate this. Just tell me – tell me why I can't be with Yuugi." He stood, dropping his hands to flare out palms up, pleading his mother. "I'm going to do everything you ask," Atemu said throatily, "so just tell me this one thing. What do you know?"

A clock on the wall ticked the seconds by as she stared at him. The silence lengthened, and his mother did not speak. Even with his feet planted firmly on the ground, he could feel himself shaking in the stillness, coming undone. She crossed her legs, lacing her fingers in her lap. Adira's expression hardened.

"You cannot see this man," Adira finally said, "because I am your mother and I say so."

"You say so," Atemu repeated hollowly and his hands dropped to hang loosely by his sides.

"There's plenty of men out there," she said. "Any one of them would be lucky to have a Muuran. Take your pick."

"I want Yuugi," Atemu said, and his voice was small and delicate with heartache.

A second crease formed in Adira's brow, and she looked away from him to the door. Taking a silent breath, she turned back to look at him briefly before averting her gaze. Atemu could only imagine what he looked like to her, grown, but not yet a man and on the brim of tears. If Atemu were her, he would also look away.

"You might not believe it now, Atemu," Adira said, and her voice was surprisingly soft, "but you will find love again. This … baker is not the be-all end-all."

Atemu looked at the ground then, his chest aching and his heart in his throat. At once, Atemu felt his heart harden like the diamond-strength polish on his mother's nails.

"No offense, mother," Atemu replied bitterly, "but what could you possibly know about love?" He raised his eyes to Adira once more, clenching his jaw as a caustic acid burned in his stomach. "You know," he said, an abrupt laugh leaving him, "it doesn't even matter what you know. Whatever you think you know. Because my heart knows better than you ever will. Yuugi is a good person. He's kind and dorky and funny. He sends emojis that don't make any sense, he has this really cute crinkle in his nose when he laughs, and he liked me for me. I don't care whatever you think you know about him because I will always know better. I'll be whatever you want me to be, but I won't stop caring about him. My heart is his."

She looked as calm as ever, but somehow, as Atemu glared at her, she seemed smaller than before. She took a silent breath, and Atemu expected her to render him limb from limb. He expected threats. Heck, he was waiting for her to take his phone and ground him like he was fourteen all over again. However, Adira merely stood from his bed and brushed her dress down before she walked to the door.

"Come to breakfast," she said and left his room.

Slowly, Atemu went to the door and closed it. Sighing heavily, he returned to his bed, grabbing the handle of his suitcase as he went. Bringing it over, he sat and unzipped the duffel. Stashed inside was a white box with a brown logo on top. It was slightly squashed and dented, but intact. Opening it, he stared at its messy contents, chocolate filling smeared everywhere. He took pause then, noticing a folded paper in the chocolate. Taking it, Atemu carefully cleaned it of the chocolate, sucking the residue off his fingers. It was a folded business card, much like the first he had received from Jounouchi under false pretenses. When it was as clean as he could get it, he opened it, reading the note scribbled onto the back.

"I hope you enjoy these chocolate cornets," it read, "my mom would make me them when I was little. It was the first thing I ever learned to bake. With love, Yuugi." At the bottom of the note, was a heart, a small arrow drawn through it. Lifting the card, Atemu pressed it to his lips, holding it there as his chest tightened. He closed his eyes, struggling to breathe through the tight, painful lump in his throat.

"F-fuck," he hissed through his teeth.

A/N: Do not ask for updates. Thank you. (Be sure to check out my other fics!)