Yugi woke feeling stiff and sore. His face ached, and one of his arms had fallen asleep. With the help of his good arm, he pulled himself into a sitting position and looked at his surroundings. He was in his living room. It was completely normal, nothing was moved about, and no weird shadows. It was both a relief and disappointment.
The arm that had fallen asleep was suddenly rushing with fresh blood, and he could feel the beginnings of pin pricks as the numbness receded.
Sunlight shone in the windows, obscured only a bit by some tacky Kuriboh print curtains. They'd been brought over from his room at his Mom's place. He'd been meaning to replace them with something more dignified, but hadn't gotten around to it yet.
Jonouchi had joked on more than one occasion saying, "Seto Kaiba probably has Blue-Eyes White Dragon print curtains all over his house. And Blue-Eyes bed sheets, and toothbrush... and dildo."
The memory was enough to make a smile tug at Yugi's mouth. Of course neither of them had even seen Seto's home. Homes, he corrected himself. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Seto own several homes.
A growl twisted in his stomach and he made a face. No doubt hunger had awoken him. He thought about getting up, making some breakfast, and starting a pot of coffee.
As he rose from the couch, he had to wonder, Do I even have food?
That question was answered when he reached the kitchen and opened the fridge. Nope. The near barren shelves practically screamed their answer at him.
Sitting on those shelves, almost mockingly, were a bottle of ketchup, a half-empty jar of applesauce, a container of deli mustard, two cans of cheap piña colada flavored wine cooler, and a package of processed cheese slices.
He tried the pantry where he kept his dry goods and was equally as disappointed. There was a partial box of instant rice, a box of cake mix that was useless without the other ingredients required, some potato flakes, dried seaweed, stale shrimp chips, and a can of cat food. Not sure when or where he acquired the cat food because he didn't own a cat.
Yugi sighed, and shut the pantry door.
"I guess it's applesauce and cheese slices."
Just as he was turning from the pantry, the door creaked, followed by a *pwap* sound.
He swiveled his head back around, heart leaping into his throat, and saw a single protein bar sitting on the linoleum.
For a long second he could only stare. The chill in his nerves from the past few days increasingly sensitive to anything out of the ordinary ever since he'd seen the eyes in his closet.
Steeling those nerves, he stalked to the pantry and pulled it open again. There wasn't anything suspicious inside, and it hadn't changed since he'd looked not thirty seconds ago. Hesitantly Yugi bent and snatched the protein bar from the ground.
It was the kind that Kaiba Corp stocked in their vending machines at the office. He'd eaten them a time or two on his breaks. Very strange that one would fall out of his pantry though. He couldn't ever recall bringing one home.
With a hesitant acceptance Yugi stuffed it in his pocket. He got out a small bowl, filled it with the last of the applesauce, and made himself a pot of coffee. Collecting mug and bowl, he walked back in to the living room to eat his meager meal. Once he'd set everything down he pulled the protein bar from his pocket and opened it.
He felt a bit pathetic when the first bite tasted like heaven. God, I'm starving if I think these taste amazing.
"Really didn't want me to eat cheese slices for breakfast, huh?" he asked around a mouthful of food. Finally voicing the question that had been wriggling around his thoughts about the bar's sudden appearance.
Silence.
That was about what he'd expected. He scarfed down the rest of the protein bar, already feeling a bit better. Next he took a spoonful of applesauce, eating slowly this time, but not really tasting it.
Something caught his eye when he looked down at the coffee table. It was fortunate he'd been holding onto the spoon in his mouth, because he almost sucked it into his throat.
'Hello.'
The bowl of applesauce and spoon were hastily placed on the table, and Yugi scooped up the nearly forgotten white board he'd bought a month prior. His fingers gripped the plastic like it might break apart in his hands. He could feel his whole body shaking.
The handwriting was elegant, old-fashioned, but not in a way he could place. It was completely unlike any of his friend's handwriting so he was able to rule them out in an instant. Not that they'd been over a whole bunch in the last month. But Jonouchi had handwriting worse than Yugi's. Honda's was more like a professional, neat, crisp, and more than a little dull. Anzu still wrote like a high school girl; hers was easily recognizable for its extra adorable frills.
So that left Yugi to settle on the most damning conclusion.
There is a house ghost. And it answered me!
Either that or someone broke into his apartment only to write on his white board. He cast a look about his place, there wasn't anything of value missing. This theory seemed highly unlikely.
Oh, but a ghost seems the most likely? He remembered the eyes in the dark, shining pits of molten gold. They had stared at him like they could look straight through him and into his soul. He shuddered. Maybe this isn't such a great idea. Making contact with a spirit when I have no idea if it's malevolent or benevolent.
The protein bar wrapper was sitting innocuously on the coffee table where he'd discarded it. For a brief moment he felt kinda like a small animal that was being bought over with treats. Yugi snorted audibly at that thought. If this specter really wanted to lure him into a false sense of security with food it wouldn't be using cheap, gross protein bars.
"If you want my soul you'll have to give me something fancy to eat," he said, feeling a fragile surge of confidence at the levity of his statement. "Like a hamburger. Made with Kobe beef, and nice caramelized onions, and the most amazing melty cheese." He thought for another long moment and added, "topped with Dijon Ketchup and bacon made from the belly of a boar god."
A warmth bloomed against Yugi's chest. The puzzle hanging around his neck—an inverted pyramid constructed of various small and complex solid gold puzzle pieces—felt oddly warmer than usual and... lighter? He placed a hand on it and the sensation quickly faded.
His thoughts muddled about at the implications. The puzzle was a gift from his grandfather. He'd gotten it as a kid and it had taken him eight years to put it together. He'd worn it nearly everyday since then. It was his talisman of protection. He took comfort in that it was working even now.
This ghost can't harm me.
With newfound resolve he used his sleeve to clear the board and uncapped the purple dry erase marker. The felt tip made excited squeaks as he wrote out his questions.
'What's your name?'
'Are you friendly?'
'Do you live here?'
That was simple enough, Yugi thought. Easy questions that wouldn't require more than a yes or no. Except for the name one. But then introductions were usually key for the start of any relationship.
"My name is Yugi Mutou," he announced to the emptiness of his living room. And hoped that whatever spirit haunted the building was listening to him.
"I know," the Spirit answered from the depths of his soul room. A place that was simultaneously located inside the puzzle and Yugi's heart.
Inside this room, in this alternate plane, he was substantial. Not the malleable and incorporeal shadow that he was on the living plane. The visage he wore was Yugi's however—or rather how Yugi looked during possession—because he had no memory of his own appearance. There was a difference though, the Spirit's skin was the color of toasted spices, rich and brown. A personal expression of his Egyptian heritage.
He was lazily perched on his throne. His crossed legs thrown over the arm of the intricately carved stone throne, and he was leaning on one elbow, his head propped up with his palm. An amused smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
Yugi's voice echoed into his chamber like it had traveled through empty halls to reach him. His own words would not reach Yugi though.
The Spirit's burning ruby-red eyes stared at the viscous shadows that concealed the corners of his room, but he wasn't actually seeing them. His attention was focused on what his host was doing.
A mix of restless excitement churned within the Spirit. It was drowning out the once powerful resolve of no contact.
This was it. There was no going back.
Night couldn't come quickly enough. He was practically oozing at the edges of his host's shadow. The effort to keep himself contained to the proper shape was immense.
Because it was the weekend, Yugi did not have to work. He'd gone grocery shopping much to the Spirit's relief. The fridge, freezer, and pantry were stocked near to bursting with food. Yugi wouldn't be hungry for at least a little while. One crisis averted.
The rest of the day was spent relaxing. Yugi played some video games, sorted his trading cards, did a little bit of paperwork he'd brought home with him, then fell into bed after a long hot shower.
When the sounds of even breathing reached him, the Spirit finally oozed from Yugi's shadow. Sliding off the bed and onto the floor, he rose up and opened golden eyes to peer silently at his host.
Yugi was sound asleep. He'd been watching something on his iPad when he'd drifted off. The video was still quietly playing away, the device laying on his chest.
The Spirit reached out and shut the iPad off. The screen falling to black. He placed the device on the bedside table.
A shadowed hand reached out to touch Yugi's freshly washed hair; it would be soft without all the styling products. But he quickly withdrew.
Suddenly the shadow swept from the room, his form drifting purposely across the floor, he made his way to the living room.
The white board was just where it always was, sitting on the coffee table. The amiable 'hi,' that had marked the white face was gone.
The Spirit settled onto the couch and picked up the board to read the new messages cheerfully scrawled in Yugi's charming handwriting.
They were familiar questions.
A shadow tentacle detached itself from the Spirit's form and wrapped around a red marker. A tendril forming from the same tentacle uncapped the pen. He raised it over the board and the tentacle reformed itself into the proper shape of a hand.
'What's your name?'
The edges of his form leapt and quivered like a flame. He could not answer this.
'Are you friendly?'
That was a loaded question. And for the majority of people the answer would be a "no." It would however, be unsettling to reply, "only to you."
If he could have frowned, he would have. This was going to be a bit harder than he'd first anticipated. The honest truth might scare his host, so a bit of finesse would be required.
He touched the marker to the board and began writing.
Yugi checked the white board the next morning after he'd prepared himself an omelette for breakfast. His squeal of delight broke the silence in the room. He practically threw the food down at the sight of that elegant handwriting in red dry erase ink.
'Are you friendly?'
'Yes.'
Yugi beamed at that. The ghost is friendly. A weight lifted from his heart that had been pressing down on him ever since he'd moved in. Friendly. Like Casper the friendly ghost. He shuddered at the memory of the eyes. His brain creatively imagined Casper with empty golden eyes. It was enough to make goose bumps prickle his skin.
'Do you live here?'
'For now.'
Yugi furrowed his brow. That seemed to imply that the ghost was not permanently tethered to the apartment. But it could also mean the ghost didn't intend to stay tethered to the apartment. He resolved to get clarification eventually. Maybe he could even help the ghost pass on?
He noticed that the question, 'What's your name?' was curiously unanswered. The space beneath it left blank.
A swell of disappointment rolled over him. But he quickly swallowed it back down. He knew what his next question would be.
He snatched up the purple marker again, wiped the white surface clean, and wrote out his new question.
'Do you have a name?'
It took a bit longer to decide on his next question.
'Why are you here?'
That seemed innocent enough. The ghost was welcome to interpret it however it pleased. It wasn't as direct as 'How did you die?' Which Yugi thought might be rude. Asking about someone's death felt too intrusive, and tactless.
The last question was a repeat of one he'd asked before. But now that the ghost seemed responsive he wanted to try again.
'Do you want to be friends?'
If the ghost was friendly, it stood to reason that Yugi could make friends with it. Right? And if it was talking to him then was it safe to assume the ghost wanted to try to be friends?
He sure hoped so.
The day was spent with a noticeable lightness in his heart. Yugi was hyper aware of the white board, frequently checking it, but also making sure to leave it alone for hours at a time. He tried his hardest to stay busy, occupying himself with laundry, vacuuming, a walk around the block, even cleaning the bathroom. But the ghost never touched the dry erase board. Eventually, he retreated to his bedroom to play Plants vs Zombies 2 on his iPad.
He made a proper dinner for the first time in what felt like weeks. Pork chops and mixed vegetables with rice. It tasted amazing and it made his kitchen smell equally so. Washing the dishes afterward felt more like a task of honor than a chore. You didn't have a lot of dishes to wash when you hardly ate anything.
Also, he felt a tiny bit guilty whenever he woke up to find that somebody—or something—had already washed them.
Or it could have been yourself, he reminded morosely. During one of those damn lapses. That made him feel more than a little defective. He pushed those thoughts aside.
Yugi crawled into bed that night feeling anxious and practically vibrating with nervous jitters.
To settle his nerves he put on a YouTube video of a Super Metroid speedrun. Once upon a time he'd had aspirations to speedrun a video game, but his busy life never left time to pursue that avenue. None the less, the video was entertaining and a welcome distraction.
He fell asleep dreaming about shifting shadows and piercing golden eyes.
The spirit narrowed his eyes at tonight's questions.
It was a point of chagrin that he couldn't remember his own name. He thought of giving Yugi a fake name, but any title he would have given himself felt insincere and empty. Lacking significance because it held no value to him. Clutching dignity around himself like a cloak, he humbled himself to admitting the truth.
'Why are you here?' proved to be equally as difficult to answer. His whole mass shifted restlessly, the edges of his form rippling. Yes, why indeed. Why is my soul anchored to a magical puzzle? Why was I imprisoned? And why am I unable to rest? How long must I walk this plane neither truly existing or dying? And what greater purpose must I serve to my gods before I am free?
The marker squeaked as he wrote a considerably less existential answer.
The last question on the board made his eyes smile. It was just like Yugi to ask this. The restless frustration from the previous questions whooshed out of him like a balloon. A big emotional balloon.
If a marker could have squeaked happily, this one did.
'Do you have a name?'
'Not one that I recall.'
Well that explained why the ghost never answered the first question.
Yugi was perched on the edge of the couch. His work clothes were fresh, pressed and wrinkle free, the subtle scent of cologne clinging to the fabric. His haired was coiffed into its usual spiky style. He was ready to walk out the door and it wasn't even time to leave yet. Having woken up extra early to get ready for work, so he'd have time to respond to his ghostly roommate if it responded last night.
It had.
He may have internally shrieked.
'Why are you here?'
'Because I must exist somewhere.'
"Well that's bleak," he said grimly to himself, "and ambiguous..."
A pillow fell off the couch, nearly startling Yugi from his seat. He stared at it, and then at the spot where it had been for nearly thirty seconds.
When nothing else happened he scooped it up and replaced it on the couch.
He wasn't actually sure if it was the ghost responding to him, but he interpreted it to mean something along the lines of, "Hey, I don't criticize your lifestyle."
'Do you want to be friends?'
'Perhaps.'
"Well, that's just being evasive," Yugi remarked aloud, having read the answer to his last question. "What's this 'Perhaps?' Do you want to be my friend or not?"
This time several decorative pillows toppled off the couch and onto the floor.
His heart jumped into his throat, pulse pounding in his ears. This was definitely the ghost. If the responses on the white board had not given him validation to its existence already, this definitely did.
"Now you're being a toddler," Yugi accused a little shakily to the pillows. He picked them up one by one and replaced them on the couch.
One of the pillows he'd just replaced flew off the couch again like someone had kicked it.
"I'm not the one being cryptic and frustrating with all my answers. That's you."
And just like that, the pillows were left alone. He was able to finish putting them back without another one going flying. A silence fell over the living room, it wasn't really any different from the usual quiet of the apartment, but it felt awkward to Yugi.
"So... you don't have a name," he began, and if he sounded nervous it was because he was. His eyes drifted about the room searching the corners for the ghost. "What if I give you a name?"
None of the pillows went flying, so Yugi took that as a good sign.
"Whenever I've seen you—at least I think I've seen you—you're always a shadow. You look like my shadow..." He played nervously with his bangs, eyes still darting around the apartment, checking to see which shadows would move. "What if I call you Yami? It means Darkness." The explanation felt very foolish. If the ghost spoke his language of course it would know what yami meant.
Yugi didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed by the following silence and lack of activity.
"I guess we'll think about that? We can come up with a better name if you don't like it. It was probably a bit too 'on the nose.'"
He grabbed his briefcase and laptop bag, slinging them over his shoulder as he headed for the coat closet. "I have to go to work now," he called over his shoulder and pulled out a familiar fur-lined leather jacket. The puzzle at his neck felt a little warm, but only for a moment.
Yugi stopped at the front door, his hand on the knob, to add a tentative, "Have a good day?"
Silence.
Not really sure what else to say, he felt more than a little awkward leaving the house.
Over the next eight hours he thought long and hard about names. All kinds of names. Any name he could think of that might suit a shadowy golden-eyed ghost, and maybe even some that didn't. If it came down to it, he would just have to throw names at the wall like slices of bologna and simply see which one stuck.
When he returned home from work, and after he'd hung up his jacket and set his things aside, he noticed that the white board had been swept clean.
All the questions and answers from that morning were gone. In their place, in the familiar red ink, was the word, "Yami," written boldly and eloquently. It took up almost the entire surface of the tiny white board.
"Yami, it is." Yugi affirmed. There was a smile in his voice that he couldn't even begin to hide and he beamed.
He picked up the white board, taking a minute to appreciate the name scrawled across it. There was a reluctance to erase the board this time, but he finally scrubbed his sleeve over it. Wiping the name away.
Then he reached down, snatched up the purple marker, and wrote:
'Do you like games?'
If you are enjoying the fic, please drop a review. thanks.