A/N: This was originally part of a compilation that I officially retired this week because the rest of the stories were, frankly, a bit embarrassing. This one, however, is adorable and I still love it. And also, Kisara is my girl. I almost tacked it onto the end of Drabbles and Shorts but it's actually long enough for its own entry, so we gave it a bit of spit polish and here it is!
Second Chances
He still dreamt of Egypt.
About his other, mostly, and would wake up empty and lonely.
But sometimes the dreams were different.
Sometimes he dreamed of a girl with long, light hair and sad blue eyes.
Sometimes he dreamed of a dragon dying for all she loved.
Sometimes, he got the impression that the dragon was still waiting for something, even now, so long after its death.
One night, he spoke to her.
The girl's back was to him and she jumped at the sound of his voice. She turned and looked and truly saw him for the first time, her eyes widening in surprise, before she disappeared.
One night, he dreamed, caught between scenes of losing the other half of his soul that repeated mercilessly until she appeared again.
She glanced around, disoriented for a moment, and her gaze paused on one shadowy background figure in particular before she approached him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and banished the nightmare images with a touch.
The memories, however, remained and she could do no more than hold him until the dawn washed away the depths of the night and awareness claimed him once again. He whispered thanks and when he woke, he lingered in bed to the point of being late, unwilling to dislodge the feeling of her warm embrace and the brush of her lips on his forehead just before he was pulled away completely.
One night, she waited for him and caught him by placing a hand on his shoulder during the first tentative dream when it was still cloudy and misty and easy to disperse.
"You're real, aren't you? I mean, not a part of my dreams?"
The question made her smile.
"No, I am not. But you dream in a very strange place."
"Oh, I'm sorry," he replied and cursed the fair complexion that showed a flush even in this place where he was less real than she was.
The girl laughed lightly and shook her head.
"You cannot control where you dream but it is rare to see dreamers here. And none have ever been able to see me."
He stopped to notice his surroundings for the first time. Most of the area was filled with shifting inky blackness and smoky grey mists but out of the corner of his eye, he could catch insubstantial colors and shapes, like looking through a rain drenched window.
"Where are we?"
She paused. "I'm not exactly sure, but," the girl reached out to twine a silky strand of smoke around her finger, looping it around on itself and he watched in awe as a reflective surface was created, images of places both familiar and not flashed by, "it is a place where I can keep watch on certain things."
He reached out to touch the surface and the image there rippled but didn't break, changing to show the Kame game shop and his grandfather, asleep with his mouth open and presumably snoring though there was no sound. He laughed. "That's amazing!"
She couldn't help but laugh with him at the funny little man with wild hair tossing about in bed.
"My grandfather," he said by way of explanation.
"You have his hair," she teased.
"Yeah, I know." He ran a hand through it with an embarrassed grin. The strands bent easily under his fingers but sprang back into place when no longer held down.
She gave a small squeak and reached out to play with it as well, then stopped with a blush. "Um, may I?"
He nodded enthusiastically and without hesitation. A very pretty girl wanted to run her fingers through his hair. Yes. It was definitely okay.
"I'm Yuugi," he introduced himself while enjoying her soft, gentle touch and her amused expression as she played with the locks, trying, and failing to get them to lay flat. Or any way other than straight up.
"Kisara," she replied and they exchanged wide smiles and soft laughter and realized it was the first time in quite a while that they had done either.
One morning, his friends noticed that his smile once again reached his eyes.
That next day, something tugged at his memory. She looked so familiar but he'd dismissed it as the strangeness of the dreams. Now, however, in the stark reality of daylight, he was sure he'd seen her somewhere before. He just had to figure out where.
All his memories searched and nothing.
All his memories, except those he wished to forget.
Eventually curiosity won out and there she was.
That night, in the place between waking and dreams, he stopped to examine her before she noticed his arrival and yes, it was her, though she was no longer the ragged, slip of a girl they had failed to save from the villager's stones.
No, she was no longer covered in the dust of the road and the bruises of harsh weather and harsher treatment. She was no longer unnaturally thin from lack of nourishment.
Now her light hair and skin glowed in the dream light and her figure was properly filled and emphasized by the flowing dress that ended just short of well sculpted ankles . . .
Yuugi was struck again by her beauty and could feel his face heating up. He pulled his gaze away before he was caught staring.
So she was from ancient Egypt . . .
What was she doing here?
He finally made his presence known and she greeted him warmly, falling into the easy conversation that came so naturally for them.
But the question stuck in the back of his mind.
One night, he finally saw what was there for anyone to see if they knew how to look.
Large dragon wings glittered and flared out behind her and he remembered who it was that had finally stopped the villager's anger and superstitions and where he had seen those exact wings, lovingly and carefully sculpted into holographic glory.
He asked tentatively from where they sat, watching false, but no less beautiful clouds drift across an equally false and beautiful sky, if her ka was, in fact, that of the dragon. She replied that the dragon had been her ka and ba combined and that the girl had been a shell.
"And now?"
She thought for a long moment.
"Here? Where forms don't matter? Both I suppose. Melded inseparably after so many years of watching."
'So many years' was an understatement he thought but didn't say.
"And you were watching . . . Seto?" he asked and she nodded shyly.
"Yes. Though he doesn't need me anymore." Quiet. Regretful.
"Sometimes we miss and still want to be near the ones we no longer need."
"But I'm not supposed to stay here any longer."
"Neither was he," Yuugi whispered, voice filled with quiet regret to match her own and she looked over at him, startled, remembering the dream where she had first found him and realizing who he meant.
Fingers met and intertwined and through shared painful memories, shared comfort and shared companionship...
One night he didn't want to wake.
Yuugi peered out from under the covers to look at the clock. The red glow indifferently announced that it was five past two in the morning and he inwardly cursed.
One night he was afraid to sleep.
She had mentioned not being needed and moving on. What if she wasn't there?
He wrapped his arms tighter around himself and sighed.
It wasn't right, was it, to have fallen in love with someone who only appeared in dreams?
But then, was it any stranger than having loved the ancient Egyptian spirit who had resided in his head?
His friends were right when they said he loved too easily.
Still . . .
One night he decided he wouldn't lose both and finally fell asleep, clutching scissors and string.
He arrived in the place between dreams and was relieved to find her waiting. So relieved that he stepped forward impulsively, took both her hands, and kissed her. It required him reaching up and wouldn't have worked if she had straightened or stepped back but she did neither and their lips met and after a brief moment of surprise, she returned the kiss eagerly.
"Come back with me," he said when they parted.
"Can you do that?" she asked, startled.
"I think so. Um, would you like to try?"
"Yes."
Fingers twined and second and third kisses were stolen before Yuugi untangled one hand to fish through his pockets. He breathed relief to find the items he wanted.
Kisara glanced at them questioningly and he flushed.
"This place seems to respond to symbolism, so . . ." He brought up the hand still held in his and slipped one end of the red string around her little finger. The blush deepened. "Sorry, it's the only color I could find."
She couldn't quite figure out why he was embarrassed as the cultural significance was lost on her but she found herself coloring slightly also at how very, very right the color and placing felt as the string settled into place.
He tied the other end around the matching finger on his own hand and placed her arms around his neck. "Hold onto me. As tightly as you can."
She did so and he concentrated. Concentrated and again saw what was there for those who knew how to look. Threads, ropes, and chains, thick, thin and in abundance radiated out from her, connecting her to the past and the present, to this world and the next.
And the scissors worked to cut them all.
He made sure to leave none but the red thread that connected her to himself and when the last string was cut, before any could reform, he used the remnants of magic that still clung to him and the magic inherent in the nature of a dragon, wrapped both arms tightly around her waist,
And pulled.
One morning, he woke to find a happy, purring, dragon girl in his bed.
And very, very naked. At which point he realized that he hadn't worn much to bed either but it didn't seem to matter as they fit perfectly together, clothed or not, and soft kisses and shy explorations turned to something more. Heat and pleasure and she was never so glad to have found reason to stay.
Sugoroku stared.
And decided not to ask.
He didn't ask why his grandson appeared at the breakfast table with a girl that he must have pulled out of thin air because she wasn't here last night and he hadn't yet broken the habit of sleeping lightly and listening for Yuugi or his friends sneaking out of or back into the house. Not that he ever stopped them when they did, but it at least let him know when to start worrying and when to stop.
He didn't ask why she only spoke a very old form of Egyptian and gently corrected his and Yuugi's pronunciation of the lost language.
And he definitely didn't ask why, when she turned in just the right way, the early morning light caught the air behind her and shimmered with translucent blue in the outline of great dragon wings.
He simply accepted it as he did all the strange occurrences that surrounded his grandson.
At least the great grandchildren would be taller.
The possibility of great grandkids made him perk up and he tried to convey his approval to Yuugi behind her back.
Yuugi buried his face in one hand and shook his head in exasperation.
Kisara managed to catch the entire exchange anyways, burst into peals of silvery laughter, and was unable to resist giving the endearing little man a quick hug.
Sugoroku's wide grin lasted for the entirety of the day.
And most of the children were taller, with the exception of the youngest girl who inherited her father's eyes and tiny stature. She exhibited a fierce loyalty to her friends and the urge to protect everyone around her.
And sometimes, when the lighting was just right, the air behind her shimmered and bent forming the outline of beautiful blue dragon wings.