Disclaimer: I. In Stiches, do not own Yu-gi-oh!

Dedication: This chapter is for My Misguided Fairytale for giving me the word I needed for this chapter to be updated when all hope was lost and for her awesome review.

Note: Ummu is the Arabic word for mother

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Convoke – to meet

Misguided - having or showing faulty judgment or reasoning

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Yugi was at the edge of his seat in anticipation; a seat which was the best money could buy in the theater Anzu's show was playing at. Though he was fairly well of himself, he had duel Kaiba into giving him the extra cash he needed for a ride around the city his best female friend loved and a good view of the stage. He really hadn't expected the C.E.O. to actually get him not only the Kaiba Corp. company chauffeur to drive him, but the best seat in the house and a room at one of the most expensive hotels in New York. He rather thought the elder duelist was flaunting his money in anger at losing again. Yugi, however, was not about to complain.

Rustles behind him disturbed Yugi from his watch of the swaying stage curtains a little bit before the show was scheduled to begin. He briefly glanced over his shoulder to see who it was before turning back to watch the red velvet. A small girl and an older man, His companions in the box Kaiba had settled him in, took their places just as the show started. The small girl sat primly next to him, watching with eager burgundy eyes. The man sat next to her.

Anzu looked amazing under the stage lights. Of course, she had always looked amazing to him, but tonight everyone could see her sparkle. The beauty he knew lay in her shone like the sun as she performed pirouettes and other assorted dance moves he did not know the name of. She was magic, a magic he had never known and he was captivated by it.

A small tug on his blazer made him reluctantly look away. Slowly he turned to gaze into Egyptian eyes. The abrupt realization of recognition hit him like a fist to the stomach as the little girl smiled a smile that sent him tumbling back into memories of real –painful – magics, of Pharaohs and evil gods, of the best friend he had ever had and gold glinting in the sun. Suddenly all the pieces fit as to why Anzu had disappeared after high school with almost agonizing clarity as Atem's child pointed towards the dancer on the stage with a tiny, dusky finger.

"My Ummu is very pretty on stage, isn't she?"

"Yes," Yugi whispered past the sudden tightness in his throat, "she's is very pretty…"

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Good things happen when you meet strangers.

-Yo-Yo Ma

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Normally, as Anzu exited the back stage of the theater, she would find her daughter in the care of Robert, the stage manager, happily completing one of her many little puzzles and games Anzu and others had given her over the years. The stage manager, a friend of Anzu's with little grandchildren Azeneth's age of his own, would sit by her and exclaim excitedly over the finish puzzle even though it was the hundredth such time the young girl had done so. Azeneth would then except the praise modestly, pull the puzzle apart to put it away so she could redo it later, and turn to her mother – ready to go home.

Today was different.

Today, Anzu left backstage and did not find her daughter with an elderly man. Today, she found her daughter side by side with the man she had been determined to make sure she never met – not through any fault of his own, but hers.

Yugi Motou sat next to Azeneth putting the pieces of the girls puzzle into place like he was stacking blocks, the little girl next to him joyfully handing him the pieces he asked for. Slowly, sandy Egyptian planes formed among the connected parts. Azeneth was telling Yugi that this puzzle was her favorite when the man noticed Anzu's presence. Their eyes locked and Anzu was sorely tempted to look away.

Noticing that she had lost the attention of her companion, Azeneth looked towards the distraction. When she saw that it was her mother she smiled a welcome. "Your friend, Mr. Motou, is really good with puzzles, Ummu." she enthused, casting her pretty smile back towards 'Mr. Motou'.

"He's the best at solving puzzles, sweet heart." Anzu found herself saying, never talking her eyes away from Yugi. The shift in violet eyes told her he had picked up on the double meaning of her words. Anzu was not surprised. "Will you go see what Robert's doing, please?"

"But, Ummu…"

Anzu sighed, "Please, sweet?"

Azeneth left without another word. Yugi watched her go.

"She is a lot like her father." He commented once the girl was gone. Anzu sighed again and sunk to the ground next to him, she crossed her arms – hugging herself as if she had suddenly gone cold. She could not look at him even as his hand tentatively settled on her shoulder. She had to chock back a hash laugh that threatened to break through and turn into a sob at the irony of the situation. Anzu wondered if Atem had left more than his daughter and memories behind in her.

"How did you find out?" it was stupid question, and barely more than a whisper as it slipped from her lips without her consent. To those who had known Atem, the resemblance was almost as uncanny as Yugi's own, all Yugi would have had to do was look at her.

Yugi hummed beside her pulling her against his side. "She has his eyes" was all he said. Her laugh fought free of it's confinements, a few tears staining the red carpeting beneath them.

"I never wanted you to know," she said, voice husky, " I thought that you might hate me in someway, or bare a grudge against the Pharaoh. I didn't want you to know because you might have felt obligated to claim the child as your own. I didn't want you to know because my child might besmirch your memory of the closest friend you'd ever had."

"Nothing could have made me really hate you, Anzu, you must know that. I could never have hated you - or the Pharaoh."

She shrugged, feeling the fabric of his nice blazer shift against her skin. "I was scared, Yugi."

"You don't have to be scared any more." A warm had came to cup her cheek, turning her to face him. Blue eyes met violet and Anzu's breathing stopped. Love, developed and solidified by the years, echoed in those eyes. New tears prickled and fell only to be caught by soft lips. They touched like butterfly wings in the summer against her skin, brushing down to skimp over the plump line of her mouth. He tasted of days lost and the hope of a future. It was the sweetest taste she ever knew.

"I missed you, Yugi" she mumbled against him, finger rising to grasp at the lapels of his jacket.

"As I missed you, Anzu."

He kissed her again.

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Perhaps misguided moral passion is better than confused indifference.

-Iris Murdoch

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