Sentiment
Inspiration: Osmanthe Yunnan by Hermes, Stay Awhile by She & Him, sunset teas on mountaintops drenched in gold and orange. Not mine.
Disclaimer: YGO isn't mine, either.
Salted Lilies and Twins verse, if you squint.
for the lovely Startistica, who strong-armed me into learning how to make photosets and other procrastination-induced adventures
many thanks to Duelistsheiress for edits! You are amazing!
...
"Again, Yami! Hold still, please."
Yami shrugged, a little exasperated, a little amused, most of all affectionately exasperated at the impromptu photocall that began at dawn and sprawled until now. The moment stretched long and lean in the setting sun. Shoulders straightened. Eyes stared, really stared, at the strange piece of machinery in Anzu's hands making the click-clack of ink grinding against paper. The square-ish beam light flashed whenever Anzu pressed the large round button on top. It hadn't done that earlier, but it was dusk now and even the camera seemed note the sentimentality of the moment.
For he would have to g-
No-
He didn't.
Not yet.
Their worlds were one for a little while longer.
Now Anzu wasn't usually prone to bouts of sentimentality. That was more...Joey and Tristan's territory, however much they pretended it wasn't. At Yugi's behest, they all dealt with the upcoming trip to Egypt by avoiding it as much as possible. Anzu was the sole exception. She was very practical about it all. By the time Joey and Tristan managed to pack their suitcases, the plane tickets, hotel rooms, and on-ground itineraries had already been prepared. The whole endeavor read more romantic African safari than rite of passage, but not even Anzu referred to it as such.
Yami managed to squish The Topic into the edges of his memory before the next click-clack. Surprising, how easily the thought vaporized, only to reform again and again when Anzu shifted towards with what looked like a touch of evening dew in her eyes.
A few months ago, when the leaves in the valley below were a lush olive, Yami would have never skimped on the Saturday morning rush of professional duelists and fangirls at the Game Shop. Days like today were for time spent with Grandpa wiping countertops and breaking down boxes and organizing shelves. Joey and Tristan would linger, too, a little long over the latest cards and jostling for the better view of the cross-legged girls on the second floor. Anzu would always be in the center, curled up with some heavy tome of English while giggling with Serenity and Mai.
Weekends were routine as well as intimate. Their easy familiarity provided Yami comfort, but Yugi made different plans today for a "sightseeing" not-quite-a-date...sightseeing date. The sight was either Anzu in her climbing gear or Anzu in her climbing gear, framed by the orange and gold of the setting sun atop the mountain, both of which Yami appreciated as the evening chill crept in.
Conveniently, Yugi disappeared as soon as the climbing began this morning. Surprisingly, Joey and Tristan both seemed to have injured themselves at various points during the trip (again, very conveniently, with Mai and Serenity in tow). That just left Yami and Anzu to reach the faded red gazebo around noon. Yugi made a brief and ecstatic appearance when Anzu produced the polaroid camera to commemorate the moment.
She kept that rusted old thing?
Anzu laughed. A tinkling sound, one that Yami hadn't heard yet that day. He laughed as well. She did more than keep the damn thing. It had been polished, too, lovingly, with a dainty handkerchief embossed with an imprint of the New York City skyline. Yami held the silk, it looked and smelled like fall, with the crunch of autumn-tinged foliage and the creak of burnt leaves every time she turned on the mountaintop.
But...if this was her day, as Yugi so desperately wanted it to be, why did it feel as it it was...
Their day, Anzu corrected.
The words that Yami was going to say tumbled over the edges of his memory, too.
Squeeeeeeaaaaak.
Bits of paper eked out of the bottom of the camera. Anzu grasped them between her forefingers and shook them gently, taking care not to let the colors run. Yami shifted instinctively, as if to catch the falling pigments, and, suddenly, Anzu tripped, landing in Yugi's puce colored sweater with a thump. The camera- unceremoniously squashed- click-clacked in protest.
Grins mixed and melted together. Once, twice, three times. This was the kind of expression he and Yugi reserved for Grandpa's world-famous chocolate chip muffins, Joey's various practical jokes on Tristan (all of which involved a reluctant if highly amused Serenity), and Anzu doing well...whatever. Studying, dueling, laughing- especially laughing- that kind of smile that stretched muscles to their maximum outward trajectory, reaching for the girl in front of them.
Later, when they disentangled the camera to rescue the polaroids eeked out of the bottom, he held her still. The photos developed slowly in their hands. All three photos were bleary speckles. The first was obviously Yami, all angular, tense, wry anticipation and suspended movement, half in the frame, out of out of the frame, arms around Anzu but turning, half-marching towards something in the distance. The second was all Yugi, open, relaxed, centered between the sunset and forest, embracing a girl whose head fit the crook of his shoulder just so. The last one was Anzu's profile, face tilted towards Yugi's and the sky above in with a waxy sheen in her eyes, with the look she reserved for perfectly broken in pointe shoes and aibou.
"Again, Anzu. Again."
...
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