Rated for some Violence, and some Language.
Type: AU
Pairings: Possible Yami/Tea
Toli: So, why are we putting up yet another story?
Mena: Because it's fun!
Toli: Anyway, it's another story from your favorite set of twins!
Mena: You ever think that maybe we aren't some people's favorite set of twins?
Toli: Of course we are! We're the best twins on the planet!
Mena: Yeah, you're right! Anyway, let's get to the story!
Jesselda: Everyone's favorite set of twins do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.
ONE: Surprise
There was a knock at the door. In the bed in the middle of the room, a figure grumbled something as he shifted positions, trying to go back to sleep.
The knock came again. "Yami? Your mother sent me to wake you up."
There was another string of grumbling as sixteen-year-old Yami Moto sat up in bed. He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes, not exactly thrilled about being woken up before he wanted to be. But this was routine. Tea, the housekeeper's daughter, would be sent by Yami's mother to wake him up at 7:00 sharp, so he could prepare for the day. He would rather she left him alone and let him wake up when he wanted, at say, about noon, but he had no choice. He was, unfortunately, a light sleeper.
A louder knock. "Yami, you'd better be awake, because if you aren't, I'm coming right in!" Tea's work demeanor often slipped when she was around Yami. Despite the obvious distance between them on society's ladder, Yami and Tea were still friendly acquaintances. They hadn't made it up to friends, though.
"I'm awake," Yami grumbled, straightening his rumpled nightshirt. He swung his legs out of bed and onto the plush blue carpet. Standing up, Yami stretched and then ran a hand through his hair. Though it was normally wild, in the morning it was a lot worse.
"Good." Tea's voice floated through the French double doors to Yami's room. "Your parents want you down in thirty minutes to join them for breakfast."
Breakfast? Yami raised an eyebrow. His parents never had breakfast with him. "Yeah, sure, whatever," he said as a halfhearted response. He turned and shuffled towards his bathroom door.
Thirty minutes later, Yami, freshly showered and hair done, dressed in a black button-down tank top with an upturned collar and blue jeans, exited his room. As he walked down the large, curving staircase, he dug in his pocket and pulled out two silver bracelets looped together. He slipped them over his right hand. They had been a gift from Tea on his thirteenth birthday, one of the few presents he had received that year and actually liked, and yet they still didn't fit him completely. He wore them all the time, which sort of irked his parents, his father anyway, but he didn't really care.
Yami's life was a strange one. His father was a wealthy businessman who often took trips to some other continent to negotiate deals. His mother stayed at home and managed the money. They lived in a large, two-story mansion with fifty acres of its own land surrounded by a hi-tech fence. To keep the place clean, they had two gardeners, four servants and a butler, and Mrs. Gardner the housekeeper and her daughter Tea. They also had a cook, and a pool person. They had the most up-to-date things where everything was concerned, and if it couldn't be upgraded, it was gold plated.
When it came to Yami, he seemed to live a life like someone in Heaven. He had the coolest and most recent of everything electronic, and he was good-looking, making him one of the most popular guys at Domino High School. He even had his own motorcycle, which was blue, and a convertible, which was black. He had plenty of fangirls at school, and he always had the trendiest clothes and shoes and everything.
But he wasn't happy.
Being an only child, Yami was spoiled to no extent, but he still wasn't happy. He felt pretty lonely, in fact. His parents rarely had time for him, the servants did nothing except what they were told, and even all his fans at school weren't really his friends. The closest things Yami had to friends were Tea and Seto Kaiba, the owner of KaibaCorp and the Moto's competition for richest name in Domino City. Even with Kaiba, they weren't friends; more like respected rivals. But Yami was starting not to care. He was usually mean and sarcastic to everybody, and it came to be expected from him. Even with Tea, and especially with Seto, they were usually shooting biting remarks at each other to see who could win the current verbal battle.
It was a pathetic existence, to be honest. And Yami knew it. That's why he didn't show his loneliness to anyone or anything except his journal, which was in a locked box.
Yami made it down the stairs and turned in the direction of the dining room. He pushed open the tall, oak double doors to find his father and mother seated at the large table in the middle of the room, busily not eating the breakfast spread in front of them. The three ceiling-to-floor windows on the left wall were letting sunlight in.
Yami's mother looked up. "Yami!" she greeted him warmly. "Come and sit down. The cook made eggs today. You know how much I love eggs!"
Silently, Yami walked over and sat down, beside his mother and across from his father. Yami's mother, Kashmir, was a very beautiful and friendly woman. She had long silky blond hair and large, soft, violet-colored eyes. She was the one that Yami got his unusual eye color and short stature from, but she was still very pretty. She had on a white lace blouse and casual pants.
Yami's father was almost the exact opposite of Kashmir. He was tall and rigid, dressed in a business suit even at the breakfast table. Whatever color his hair had been before, it was shades of gray now, but he had a black moustache. His eyes were an intimidating shade of brown, and he hadn't smiled since 1849. Yami had gotten his deep voice and mean and sarcastic attitude from his father. Even now he semi-glared at Yami as he sat down next to his mother.
"Did you sleep well, dear?" Kashmir asked.
Yami nodded. "Well enough." He looked down. Two plates had already been set out for him. One contained eggs and bacon. The other had pancakes and fried ham. The appropriate flatware had been set out as well.
"How's school?" Yami's father asked in his constantly stern voice, his presence radiating like heat. He was a rather frightening businessman, and the one time Seto had seen him, he had told Yami later that Mr. Moto reminded him a little too well of Gozaburo Kaiba, Seto's stepfather and the one who had owned KaibaCorp before.
Yami shrugged and speared a slice of ham. "Fine," he said.
"I mean grades, Yami."
"As and Bs as usual," Yami said. He ate some ham.
Kashmir nodded warmly. "That's wonderful, Yami," she said. She glanced at Mr. Moto, making Yami suspicious. Was something up?
Clearing her throat, Kashmir leaned towards her son. "Tell me, how are things socially?" she asked.
Yami glanced at her, surprised. That wasn't a question he could remember her asking before. "Well...all right, I guess," he said with an indifferent shrug, eating some more ham.
"How many friends do you have?"
None. "Enough," Yami said.
Kashmir sighed, seeming a little frustrated.
"Let's get on with this," Mr. Moto said, looking at his Rolex. "I have a plane to catch to Egypt at 9:00."
"Get on with what?" Yami asked.
"Well, dear," Kashmir said, gracefully intertwining her fingers and placing them in front of her on the table, "your father and I discussed it, and we made a decision-"
Mr. Moto chose that place in her sentence to snort. Yami speared some more ham.
"-And we made a decision," Kashmir went on, "to adopt."
The fork stopped halfway to Yami's mouth. He stared at her, and unknowingly let the fork drop onto his plate. "Did you just say 'adopt'?" Yami said in disbelief.
Kashmir nodded. "Your lack of social progress has me worried, so I figured if you had a little brother or sister-preferably a little brother-to take care of, maybe it wouldn't be so hard for you to make friends."
"So the solution is another kid?" Yami demanded.
Kashmir shrugged gracefully. "It would be a good idea. It's been a long time since I had a child to take care of, and besides, it would be a wonderful opportunity to take in some poor, innocent girl or boy-preferably a boy-with a troubled past and give him or her another chance for a good life."
"Isn't that what homeless shelters are for?"
A tiny vertical line appeared between Kashmir's slender eyebrows. "Yami, you shouldn't be so upset about it. This is really a good idea, I think. Good for you and for me."
"As long as he or she doesn't poke his or her nose where he or she doesn't belong," Mr. Moto said. He glanced at his Rolex again. "I have to go. I need to be forty-five minutes early for the plane flight in case there are any complications. I'll be back in a week." He pushed back his high-backed chair, stood up, and stalked out of the dining room.
"Why would I want a little brother or sister?" Yami wanted to know.
"You've never had one," Kashmir said. "You really ought to think about it in a good light."
Yami crossed his arms and sighed huffily. "Fine," he snapped. "But don't expect me to let them mess with my stuff."
Kashmir shook her head. "I'm sure you'll like him or her if you give it a try," she insisted. "Anyway, I decided we should go today, since it's a Saturday and you don't have school. You can help me find a child."
"I don't want to."
"But you're going to."
"Fine." Yami stood up abruptly. "When do we leave?"
"Whenever you're ready, but before noon."
"Then let's go now."
Kashmir stood up, the smile back on her face and in her eyes. "All right. Trust me, Yami, this will be good for the both of us. I promise you!"
END CHAPTER
Toli: Chapter's done!
Mena: And it gets better!
Jesselda: (grumbles) Or does it.
Toli: Drop us a review and let us know whether or not this story should stick around!
