The Game of Life
By: Rogue Fox
Part Twenty-Eight……… All Ya Need is Love
Yuki+
Life passed by in a blurry swirl for me. Meeting with lawyers, Malik confessing his……… confession to everyone else, supervised visits with the boys and Charity. My power was swelling beneath my heart and it was very distracting. I knew I was subconsciously preparing……… For what, I didn't know.
I hummed softly as I rocked Charity back and forth. The head nurse mother hovered over me protectively, flustering about my pale complexion. I ignored her, concentrating instead on my heightened senses, listening to Charity's tiny heart thudding steadily in contentment, feeling her simple happiness at being in my arms. My own, more complex happiness welled up in my throat like a wonderful lump. I looked up at the nurse mother, and she started. A lot of people started when I looked them in the eye lately. It was Himeko who had informed me that my eyes had a startlingly clear look to them.
" What formula have you been feeding her?" I asked. The overweight woman sputtered a little, giving me the name of some off-brand I'd never heard of. I shook my head. " No." I muttered. No wonder Charity's little stomach was hurting. " Carnation. The Good-Start stuff. She likes that. She gets stomach aches otherwise." I told her. " And stop feeding her that awful pea baby food. Apple is much better. She also likes carrots, if you insist on vegetables, and peaches and apricots." I continued. " And do you have someone checking on Yoshi every night, like I asked?" I inquired. The nurse shook her dumbly, disbelief radiating from her. She was wondering how I knew all this. I rolled my eyes. " Is it because I'm seventeen that you don't believe what I tell you? Yoshi sleepwalks, and it gets worse as he gets upset, and he's definitely upset." I told her.
" Miss, you shouldn't worry-" the woman started, but I shut her up with what Malik has affectionately dubbed The Look.
" What I should and shouldn't do is none of your business, ma'am. I'm the one who's taken care of these kids all their lives, I know them better than I know myself. Now, I am telling you, start feeding Charity Carnation or she'll start having really bad stomach aches, check on Yoshi every night or he might hurt himself. And make sure Mokuba brushes his hair. He's as bad as his brother. Oh, and if someone could take some time every day to help Yukio with his phonics, it'd be a big help." I instructed strictly, the way I tell the boys to go to bed. Charity gurgled in my arms as Malik approached.
" Don't take the poor woman's head off." He told me in Egyptian. I smiled.
" She's annoying me." I told him, in the same language, handing Charity to him. She shrieked happily.
" There's my favorite girl!" Malik exclaimed in Japanese, holding Charity over his head. " Are these bumbling fools taking good care of you, sweet heart?" he asked in Egyptian. Charity cooed in response. I smiled and forced myself to my feet. " The boys want you over there." He told me, in Japanese again, pointing to where Yami and Bakura had been dueling for the boys' amusement. Mokuba ran over and hugged my waist. I smiled again and made a vain attempt to straighten his hair. Yoshi stood to greet me, and I was shocked.
" Stop growing!" I exclaimed unhappily. Yoshi laughed.
" You can't stop me! I'm on a spurt!" he told me. He was almost as tall as me. Yami laughed.
" Face it, Yuki, we're doomed. Us quads are gonna be short for the rest of our lives." He told me. " We got the shallow end of the gene pool."
" Don't you mean the short end?" Bakura asked with a grin. He looked much healthier. He had gotten into the place by claiming to be Ryou's cousin. Next to Yami, Yugi grinned.
" Speak for yourself. I'm well on my way to being taller than you, Yami." He said. I smiled.
" I'm taller than all of you." I said, picking on the guys. The other hikaris hate that I'm the only girl and the tallest of them all.
" Not me." Ishtar noted in his hoarse voice.
" Yeah, well………" I muttered, searching for an appropriate comeback. I didn't find one. " Oh well. Can't win 'em all, I guess."
" Apparently no one can." Seto noted, nodding to Bakura's side of the duel. " You, my friend, are successfully managing to get a whooping of large magnitude."
" In simpleton terms, please." Bakura said tolerantly.
" Yami's using you to mop the floor." Seto said simply. Bakura threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. I sensed that he was about to put on a little drama.
" One win! That's all I ask, one win! But no, that's too much! Why does fate mock me!" he cried in mock sorrow. The younger boys laughed and Charity threw her arms into the air, copying him. Bakura grinned at her. " See? Someone understands!" he cried, dashing over to Malik and scooping Charity up. " You and me will go mope together." He annoucned, whisking Charity, who was shrieking again, off to a corner of the visitation room. I patted Yoshi's shoulder affectionately, all too aware of the sadness and stress in his chest, and even more aware that our time was up. Ryou, with his sense of time, met my gaze sadly.
" Time to go!" one of the ward mothers announced. Mokuba promptly began to wail, and Yukio followed his example, which set Charity off. Bakura deposited her in my arms to cuddle and coo to while everyone else hugged and exchanged goodbyes. A tired numbness enveloped me as I walked away. Malik hugged my shoulders as we left, but didn't say anything. No one said anything. We all silently climbed on the bus and went to the mansion. Isis was waiting for us with some Egyptian dish on the table, forcing a smile that was too bright. Yami paused as he walked passed her, and put a hand on her shoulder. For a single instant, she seemed to relax into his touch and let that single hand support her. They almost seemed to become one in that moment, and then they were separate again. I sank into my favorite armchair, and Himeko knelt before me. She didn't say anything. Her mind was a blank slate. She simply leaned her forehead against mine. I sighed and closed my eyes, enveloped in the perfection, the sense of completeness, the warmth of our affection. The perfect meshing of two halves of a soul to become the better part of both, to become that whole person who lived five thousand years ago. That girl that used to laugh and love with such passion, the one who died that night when she split her soul into two and put a part of herself into what became me and the rest of herself into what became Himeko.
I was suddenly aware that we were not alone. Strong hands gripped mine, another forehead pressed to both ours. There was the hopeful, promising warmth that was Yugi, the soft, delicate coolness that was Ryou, and vibrant, burning heat of Malik. There was the rush of self-hate and majesty of Yami, the regret and passion of Bakura, the shame and colorful, lightning-quick thought of Ishtar, and the guilt and beauty of Himeko. And my own soft, distant warmth, growing weaker and weaker.
I woke up the next morning feeling rejuvenated and energetic. I bounced down the stairs and jumped happily onto Malik's back, shouting the Egyptian "good morning" greeting to everyone present. Then I ran back up the stairs to Seto's room, hearing the others' laughter as I went. He wasn't there, so I went to his home office. He was sitting there, his head in his hands and his back to me. I tackled him from the side and cuddled close to his chest.
" You're awful happy this morning. Feeling better?" he asked. His voice sounded strangely strained. I nodded.
" Uh-huh. Better than I've felt in a while." I said, looking up into his eyes. I stopped at the clouded look in them. " What's wrong?"
" I just got a call from work." He said slowly. I sat patiently, on my knees looking up at him, and waited for him to continue. " There's a big problem in the Swedish branch. I need to go-"
" Can't you send Hasagawa?" I interrupted, leaping to my feet in dismay.
" Hasagawa's daughter is having a liver transplant. He can't leave." Seto said slowly.
" But……… Now!" I asked.
" In four days." He corrected.
" Four days!" I shrilled, storming across the room. This couldn't be happening. I struggled to bite back the tears that threatened to well in my eyes. Seto got to his feet and tried to hug me, but I stormed away. " Why now!" I asked.
" You think I want to go?" Seto asked in annoyance.
" Why are you, if you don't?" I shot back.
" I have to go!" he shouted.
" Make someone else go! It's your company!" I screamed.
" I can't!" Seto came back.
" Why!" I screamed.
" I just can't, okay!" Seto bellowed. " I hate this, Yuki, I swear I do, but I can't……… I just……… Damn it, girl, I've got to go!" he screamed at me, storming out of the room. I listened to him stomping down the stairs, heard him slam the door, heard the limo wheels squeal as the chauffeur hurried to obey orders, and finally, worst of all, the silence that followed. I stood there, in the middle of the office, computers humming all around me, feeling quite depressed and very abandoned. Tears slipped down my cheeks and a single sob escaped my throat. Then I ran out of the office and to my room, where I fell face down on my bed and silently cried myself to sleep.
The next few days sort of just went by. I have no real memory of them. The next thing I really remember was walking into Seto's room and watching him pack his suitcase. He didn't even look at me, but I knew he had heard me come in. I winced as he shut the suitcase resolutely. He stood up and turned around to face me. I just stared back at him.
" My flight leaves at two tomorrow." He said finally, in a brusque, businesslike manner.
" I……… I packed your favorite lunch. So you won't have to eat airline food." I said. I thought I saw the corners of his mouth twitch.
" It's not like I won't be coming back in a few weeks. I'll definitely be back in time for your birthday." He said. My birthday……… I'd forgotten that was coming up. I'd be turning eighteen. I looked up at Seto. He was only four feet away from me, watching me awkwardly, but I'd never felt farther from him. I suddenly wanted him to hold me, and hold me tight, more than almost anything else. But I knew he wouldn't.
" I know you have to, but I wish you wouldn't leave." I said.
" I won't be gone long. I promise." He said, stepping toward me. But……… will you be back soon enough? I wondered. Will you be back in time, so I can say goodbye to you? Will you be home for the day I die?
" I still don't want you to leave." I said, looking down.
" Why?" Seto asked, pausing a few feet from me.
" Because……… I need you." I said. I want you to hold my hand, when I'm going, I continued silently. I need you to tell me not to be scared. Last time I died, you were with me. This time, I'm going alone. And I'm not coming back. I'm scared. Suddenly, Seto grabbed me up in his arms and hugged me ferociously.
" I'm coming home." He said. " I'll call you every night, I promise. I'm coming home." He swore. I buried my head in his chest in a desperate attempt to shut out the world and all its horrible pain and reality, and memorize his scent. He cupped my chin in his hand and forced me to look up at him. His eyes……… There was something there I'd missed before. A painful look of love……… I wanted……… I wasn't sure what I wanted. But I never wanted to not be able to see that look in his eyes.
The next day, we went to see Seto off at the airport. He joked and laughed and seemed almost normal, but he seemed almost nervous. And that was most certainly not normal for Seto. The other girls made him promise to bring back some genuine Swedish skin care products and meatballs. Seto laughed and complied. Then, suddenly, everyone just pulled back. And we were all alone, together, looking out the window.
" There's my plane." Seto said slowly, pointing.
" Now boarding, Flight 207." The P.A. system announced. Seto sighed.
" Please be safe, and come home as soon as you can." I whispered. He hugged me, and I hugged him back.
" I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just……… I'm so sick of seeing you hurt." He said. I nodded, rushing to wipe away a few stray tears.
" I know. It's okay." I said. " I still don't want you to go." I added.
" I don't want to go either." He said. " I want to be here with you." He told me. He suddenly hugged me again. " I need you too." He said.
" Come home soon." I begged into his neck.
" I will." He promised.
" I'll be waiting for you." I said. As long as I could, anyway.
" I won't keep you waiting long." He said.
" Flight 207, last call, Flight 207." The P.A. system boomed.
" Yuki………" Seto whispered. I looked into his eyes and saw that same look that I'd seen the night before. That sad look of longing. " I want to tell you……… I love you." He said suddenly. Before I could even register what he'd said, he pressed his lips to mine.
It was the single most wonderful moment I had yet to experience.
I watched him run onto the plane, watched the plane pull into the sky, and waved slowly, a hand covering my mouth. Himeko came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.
" So, what'd he say that's got you all red?" she asked. Malik appeared on my other side.
" My yami says that your heart's racing. What's up?" he asked.
" Are you okay, Yuki?" Yami asked sharply. I nodded, but I couldn't make myself speak. Not yet. Seto's words still echoed resoundingly off the walls of my mind, far out of the other hikaris' and the yamis' prying attempts to read my mind.
Seto loved me. Not the brother to sister kind of love I'd always assumed we had. Seto loved me. Did I love him?
Yes.
Malik+
I grinned in satisfaction as the offending stain I'd spotted on Ryou's carpet came up without a fight. Ah, the power of bleach……… I stood up to admire my work, then turned around at the sound of someone else entering the room. Ryou cocked an eyebrow at me, then shook his head as though resolving not to ask.
" There was a stain on the carpet………" I started, but I shut up, noticing Ryou was not listening. Instead he stretched out on the couch.
" I made you some coffee. It'll be done in a bit." He said distantly. I studied him for a long moment, everything about him from the troubled expression on his face to the untidy button-up shirt he was wearing to his faded jeans and socks. The left sock had a hole in the big toe.
" Thanks." I said belatedly. " Where's the tomb robber?" I asked, still fascinated by watching Ryou's chest rise and fall with his breath.
" Off with Himeko somewhere." He answered. I nodded, my eyes drifting up to study his perfect neck that led to his perfect pale face, complete with perfect lips, now puckered in thought, dark, preoccupied brown eyes, and perfect, moonlight-pale cheeks. Suddenly, I sat on his stomach, straddled him, and peered down at his face.
" Oof!" Ryou sighed as the air rushed out of him. He looked up at me, as though noticing my presence for the first time.
" What's up?" I asked.
" Huh?" Ryou said stupidly. I rolled my eyes.
" What's got you all thoughtful?" I elaborated. Ryou shrugged, forcing me to readjust my position.
" I don't know." He said. I didn't move from my position as his eyes moved to meet my own, my hands on his chest to balance my weight as I leaned down slightly. " Do you feel like……… I don't know………" he attempted to explain.
" Like the finish line's within sight?" I asked. Ryou nodded. " Yeah, I feel it too."
" That should make me happy. Why doesn't it? Why am I scared?" he asked. I shook my head and smiled down at him.
" I am happy. Right here, right now, I'm happier than I've ever been." I said. Ryou smiled softly. " I'm scared too, about tomorrow and the day after, and the day after that, and about all the days that follow. But you know what? I figure that if we've made it this far, against all the obstacles and odds that were against us, we can make it to the end. I believe that no matter how bad it gets, if I can look around myself and see my yami and my sister and all my friends and……… and you, then I believe that I'll be just fine." Ryou stared up at me for a moment, then sat up, forcing me to get off him. We sat across from each other on the couch, looking at each other. Ryou was the one to look away first.
" Malik, is there someone you love?" he asked. I nodded.
" Sure. I love my yami and my sister, and Yuki and Himeko, of course. And-" I shot off, suddenly nervous.
" No, not that kind of love." Ryou interrupted me. I fell silent.
" You mean, really love? Like 'let's get married and spend the rest of our lives together' love?" I asked.
" Yeah." Ryou nodded. My heart skipped a beat.
" I guess." I said.
" Does he know?" Ryou asked.
" No. And it's hard to love someone that way when they don't even know you love them." I answered.
" Would you tell me who it was?" Ryou inquired, looking at me with the oddest look in his eyes. I looked back, feeling my heart start thumping and my blood beginning to rush and roar in my ears. I felt sort of faint. Lack of blood to the brain, I suppose. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Ryou just kept watching me, but I didn't feel like he was waiting for me to say anything. " Have you heard anything about Yuki?" Ryou asked me, tactfully changing the subject but not taking his eyes off me.
" She's eating again, and she's moving around. Or at least, that's what Himeko told my yami." I said. I'm not one to feel particularly self-conscious. I'm like my yami. I don't care if people are staring at me, I'll do whatever the hell I damn well feel like doing. And Ryou's gaze wasn't anything like the hard, scrutinizing looks that I usually got, the ones that mask thoughts like, " What a horrible, out of control boy!" or " Didn't his parents raise him correctly?" Ryou's look was soft, and had that look of perfect understanding that only he is capable of having on his face. But I felt self-conscious. I fretted over what he thought when he looked at me. I even wondered if I looked decent, which was pretty lame and conceited of me. But I was starting to get a little weird, at least, more so than usual. Once again, I attribute the temporary loss of whatever sanity I had to lack of blood to the brain. Bear that in mind, please. I suddenly heard something in the kitchen start beeping.
" That's your coffee. It's ready." Ryou said, standing up. With his soft look finally off me, I should have felt relieved. On the contrary, I felt suddenly worse. I shot to my feet like a bullet and grabbed Ryou's wrist. Once again, there was an abnormally low amount of blood getting to my brain, low even for the circumstances. Ryou turned back to me, and I swear someone was playing dramatic music somewhere nearby. I nearly wanted to yell at them to shut the hell up, I was going to kiss this person in front of me. I really was. My head was hurting, and I felt like I was going to throw up. But I felt like I could feel everything, you know? Like I could hear mice in the walls of Ryou's house, smell the shampoo he used. Was that lavender? I like lavender……… I thought lazily. I should buy Ryou some mouse traps. What is that annoying beeping noise?
" Your coffee………" Ryou whispered. Damn, he had beautiful eyes. Just perfect, perfect, perfect. Everything about him was just perfect. Did I mention I thought Ryou was just perfect? Perfect is nice……… Please don't forget about the Malik-is-about-to-go-brain-dead-due-to-lack-of-blood-to-the-brain thing. Now, time for one of those romantic little things the guys on Isis's soap operas always say in moments like this. Insert major brain fart, which I can attribute to low oxygen levels in the brain. Okay, no romantic shit here, says brain to Malik. Malik to brain – well, think of something, damnit! Brain to Malik – Hey, I'm running on empty here, man! Stop using your other brain and help me out here! Malik to brain – Oh shit. I can't just stand here like an idiot. I've got to say something! Brain to Malik – You're on your own, buddy.
" Screw the coffee." Is what popped out of my mouth.
Brain to Malik – any more brilliant ideas, Captain Smarty-Pants? Malik to brain – Shut up.
I then decided that my life was no longer worth living and I was going to go home and hang myself.
Brain to Malik – I don't wanna die! Malik to brain – Oh, this is all your fault! If I'm going down, you're coming with me!
Back in reality, Ryou cocked an eyebrow.
" But you love-" he started, but I interrupted him by putting two fingers to his lips.
" You wanna know who I love?" I asked. Ryou nodded silently. I gave him that insane grin I know he loves. Then I kissed him. Long. And hard.
Brain to Malik – That wasn't so bad. Malik to brain – On the other hand, I think I won't kill myself.
And you wanna know what the best part of this whole incident was? Ryou kissed back. With the stupid coffee maker beeping oh-so romantically in the background.
Ishtar+
At about two o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon in the middle part of July, a very odd thing happened. I couldn't hear Malik thinking. This was a very odd thing indeed.
Malik and I have the strongest soul link of all the yami-hikari pairs. I've been with him longer, and I need him to speak for me. He needs access to my thoughts to do that. We ended up getting to a point where the link is wide open all the time. Now, here's something to compare that too. The Princess hardly ever accesses her hikari's thoughts. Most the yamis leave their hikari's be most often, and only open the link beyond vague feelings ever now and then. Most often, they feel it when their hikari is scared, threatened, in pain, or badly upset. But they don't feel every emotion, hear every thought. I hear all of Malik's thoughts. From the moment he wakes up to the moment he slips into sleep and even when he dreams, I hear his every whim and fancy. And it works both ways. I'm a highly visual person, and so is Malik. We think in pictures. Well, Malik thinks in pictures. I think in colors. The colors of my thoughts will splash over the walls of Malik's consciousness in unison with the splashes in my own. We never turn the bond off. We dream each other's dreams, share each other's nightmares. Malik has some really scary ones. So you can imagine the sudden start I had when all of the sudden, Malik just cut the bond off completely. It was like he suddenly stopped existing. I was laying on the Motou couch when it happened, eyes closed, listening to Malik run through some odd internal dialogue in our heads and the Princess argue with her brother about who had to do the dishes. Yugi had conveniently disappeared. The tomb robber was sitting on the other end of the couch, arms crossed and not really caring that I had draped my legs over his lap. He was watching the Princess. He was always watching her. I sat up suddenly, feeling Malik's sudden absence from my consciousness. It was like someone had pulled the rug out from under me. The tomb robber blinked suddenly, cocking his head.
" That's odd." He muttered.
" What's up with you?" the Pharaoh asked me. I shook my head and tapped it, suddenly feeling at a loss. The old tightness in my chest returned. The feeling that the words were there, just trapped in my throat.
" Ryou just shut down the link. Totally. I can't pick him up at all." the tomb robber announced, standing up. I nodded violently and pointed to him. I hate being unable to communicate. " Malik too?" he asked me. I nodded again.
" Think they're in trouble?" the Princess asked, her pretty little head cocked thoughtfully. She didn't look so very different from the first day I saw her……… Just darker. In the spiritual way. I stretched and shook my head, laying back on the couch. I didn't say anything, though.
" No, they're fine. It's just kind of weird. Ryou never cuts off the link. And Malik and you are always in full contact." Bakura mused. I shrugged. I wanted to tell him to stop fussing like a mother hen, but I couldn't make the thought form into words. Malik was a big boy. He could take care of himself. And he wouldn't let any grief come to his precious Ryou. No need to send out a search party yet.
" Well, I guess everyone needs their privacy." The Pharaoh said. That's the smartest thing I've heard out of your mouth all week, I thought amusedly. I like to commentate conversations mentally. It keeps me busy. I get bored just listening. Bakura shrugged and sank to the floor, where he promptly began playing a game sort of like solitaire with his Duel Monsters cards. How he was doing it, I didn't know, but I didn't ask. Not like I could, anyway.
I never talked much. All my five thousand some-odd years of existence, I never talked much at all. I knew I always went at things differently, and people used to give me funny looks when I talked. My speech wasn't slurred and mismatched, like now. My grammar was actually very concise. I was a scholar in training. It was the things I said that made people stare. I was never completely normal. I was always a little odd, different. But……… I never knew I needed speech so much. Being unable to effectively communicate killed me. I hated it. Even in Egypt, I could write. But words……… In this time, the thoughts formed perfectly fine, but……… I couldn't give them words. I couldn't make them live in the physical world, give them life in sound. I hated it. I felt surpressed, confined, trapped in the warped passages of my own mind with my own little thoughts swirling around like stray ricocheting bullets with no where else to go. No words to give them freedom.
Malik was my freedom. He was my mouth, my voice. All my thoughts found freedom through his mouth, his voice gave them life. I thanked the gods every day for that blessing, that his voice would be my freedom. I loved Malik's voice. Many a fevered psychotic episode had been soothed by his smooth tenor voice alone. I loved the way it would pitch when he was surprised, or when he was going through puberty. I loved how it would get deep and husky when he was embarrassed. After so many years of agonizing forced silence, Malik was willing to share his beautiful voice. I had a voice! We passed thoughts effortlessly. We love our privacy, both of us. We're loners. Malik's a hell of a charismatic loner, but a loner. More by environment than by nature, whereas I'm a loner by nature, but we are both loners. But Malik is a part of my privacy. His consciousness brushing against mine is a part of my own consciousness. I thought at first it would kill me, always sharing our thoughts. Malik thought so too. He thought he wouldn't be able to handle being with someone else all the time. But……… It came so effortlessly, so easily. So naturally. His thoughts and consciousness were mine. His voice was our voice. He was……… The only word I can come up with to describe everything Malik is to me is "freedom." He freed me from silence, from madness, from hate……… and from the dark. Malik was my sanity in a world that hated everything I was.
I guess I dozed off a little, lying on the couch listening to the twin teenage terrors bicker endlessly, because the next thing I remember is Jou coming into the room, Mai right behind him.
" Hey, guys," he announced as Mai ushered a girl I vaguely remembered into the room. Just very vaguely, I knew that soft face, those greyish-brown eyes, and that youthful appearance. I couldn't remember where, though. " You all remember Shizuka, right?" Yami nodded and shook Shizuka's, the little girl with Jounouchi, hand. Bakura did the same. I made myself get to my feet, still not quite remembering where I'd seen her before. " Oh, well, Ishtar and Himeko, you might not. This is Shizuka Jounouchi, my little sister." And then it clicked. I had seen her before. On the sidelines of Battle City. In Katsuya Jounouchi's most cherished memories. Shizuka. She didn't seem to recognize me, though. She wouldn't, would she? It would be Malik she recognized, Malik that bore the brunt of her hate. She smiled at me, bowed, and greeted me politely. I stared at her. She was pretty. I hadn't seen a girl I'd really thought to be pretty in……… Well, since I first saw the Princess. I opened my mouth to say……… something. Anything. Nothing came out.
" He……… He has a problem with talking. It's just not as easy for him." Yami explained, searching for the right words. I opened my mouth and closed it again, like a fish.
" Ishtar." I said suddenly. It popped out of my mouth. No one expected it, me least of all. But it came, clear as a bell, not a single halting or stutter. I pointed to myself and tried again. " Ishtar." Clear as a bell. Perfect. I spoke!
" Nice to me you, Ishtar." Shizuka said, smiling. I wanted to say more, but the words died in my throat. But I had spoken. There were words in me. I could speak. I could. And that made a world of difference to me.