O. M. G. The reader response for this piece is making me all fuzzy on the inside.
Chapter Four
Yugi woke up in the middle of the night. Uncomfortable weight settled in his gut, and he squirmed a little on the pitted surface of the air mattress.
He had to pee.
Still, he blinked rapidly, as if he could blink the fogginess from his eyes.
Nope. Still blind.
He sighed, quiet enough not to wake Joey on the couch (Grandpa's back was too bad to sleep on neither the air mattress nor the couch, and, since Joey could sleep anywhere with admirable ease, he gladly gave up his bed for the elderly man).
Yugi draped his arm over the mattress, firmly placed his palm on the worn carpet. He pushed himself up carefully. He blindly groped in front of him until his hands touched Joey's cheap coffee table. He stood. The tie on the loose pajama pants he was borrowing had apparently come undone, and Yugi barely managed to catch them before they fell to his ankles. He fumbled with the drawstrings and tied them again.
He began his cautious shuffle to the bathroom.
Joey's apartment had always been a mess, but he'd gotten a lot better at cleaning up after himself since Yugi moved in.
But, sometimes, he was still a little forgetful.
Yugi wasn't sure what he caught his foot on, but, suddenly, he was falling.
Thunk
Yugi caught himself painfully on one forearm on the wall. He sucked air in through his teeth. His side twinged; the position put uncomfortable strain on his still-tender skin graft. He shuffled his feet forward until he was standing vertically again.
"Sh-shit," he murmured, and he stuck his hand under his shirt.
No blood. Just tender flesh.
He hugged the wall, groped along it until he reached the bathroom. He found the light switch easily.
With how bad his eyesight was, he didn't necessarily need the light, but he still found its warm presence comforting.
He relieved his bladder with little fuss, but when he reached the sink, his frustration mounted.
Everyone's stuff (three people's worth) was scattered around the edge of the sink. He didn't want to grope around for the soap; it would just be disgusting to get his unwashed hands all over everything. He fumbled with the faucet.
He kept forgetting that the knobs for hot and cold were reversed.
Ice cold shock rocked his hands, and he hissed through his teeth, yanked his hands back. He returned his wet, shaking fingers to the knobs and carefully adjusted until the water was an acceptable temperature.
He bent close, splashed water on his sweating face.
Okay, soap. He needed soap.
With his hands at least rinsed, he felt better about searching for it tactilely.
He turned off the faucet for the moment, and slowly crept his hands out from each side. On the right, the surface of the rim of the sink dipped a little; a built-in soap shelf.
Yugi made a small sound in his throat. Promising.
But it was hardly occupied by soap.
As if on cue, his fingers brushed against something smooth, metallic. Carefully, he investigated the object.
When the pad of his index finger skimmed a sharpened edge, Yugi drew his hand back with a gasp.
Grandpa's straight-razor.
"Son of a bitch," Yugi hissed, voice wobbling.
If he would have just grabbed in the general direction of the soap, he would've gotten a handful of razor.
He stepped back, and his shoulders bumped into the wall. He slumped his weight into it, slid down to hug his legs. He pressed his face to his knees.
Rinsing his hands would have to be good enough.
When he returned to the air mattress (somehow avoiding whatever he had tripped on earlier), it took him forever to get his hands to stop shaking.
And even longer to fall asleep.
He dreamed of cuts on his hands and razors and blood and stitches ripping. But, most of all, he dreamed of smoke and fire.
"I made breakfast for you, Yugi."
"Thanks, Grandpa."
Forks scraped on cheap plastic plates.
"Grandpa…?"
"Yes, Yugi?"
"Can I ask a favor of you?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"In my bag, there's a folder. I need you to get it. Inside, there is a business card. When you have the time, please dial the number on it."
"Okay. Whose number is it?"
"It's for a lawyer. She's going to help me sign some contracts."
Kaiba was tweaking some blueprints when the call came in. He stared, somehow surprised by the caller ID on the screen.
He pressed the green button and lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello, Mrs. Deering."
"Hello, Mr. Kaiba. I just thought I'd tell you that a certain Yugi Muto called me this morning," her sweet voice chirped me on the other end.
Amanda Deering might have seemed the sweetheart, but she was a cunning snake in the courtroom. And she often showed a little fang and venom to her richest client.
Seto Kaiba expected nothing less from his personal lawyer.
"When's the appointment?" Kaiba asked.
"Later today. Four o'clock. I'd give you updates, but I think I'm extending client privileges to your little friend," she said with a snicker.
Kaiba rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll cover any costs you might foot me. I know how you get about that shit."
"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm just happy to help."
"Hn."
"Hn," she repeated, mocking. "The least you can do is show me a little gratitude."
Kaiba was already tapping his credit card information on an online shopping site. "My gratitude will arrive at your office sometime in the next two days."
"No," she gasped out. "You didn't. My husband will kill me if I bring home another gift basket."
Kaiba shrugged a shoulder, even though the woman on the other end wouldn't see it. "That's what the man gets for cluing me in on your Achilles Heel." He frowned. "Though I would have found it myself eventually."
"You sure are cocky."
"I have every right to find confidence in myself."
"Thank you for meeting me here, Mrs. Deering," Yugi said with a kind smile as he settled into his seat. "I know it's probably a little not out of your way." He gestured blindly (literally blindly) to the area around them, a small fast-food restaurant not too far from Joey's apartment.
"Oh, just call me Amanda, Mr. Muto," she said. "And I understand completely. In your situation, mobility is limited."
"Well, Amanda, you can just call me Yugi," he gestured to his left. "This is my grandfather, Sugoroku Muto."
"Hello, Sugoroku," she said sweetly. A shuffling of material. They must have been shaking hands.
"Hello, Amanda. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise." A click. Latches of a briefcase opening. "Did you bring the folder Mr. Kaiba provided you?"
"Yes." Yugi shifted his backpack off his shoulder and groped for the zipper. "It's right in here."
"Okay. And Mr. Kaiba summarized what the contracts covered?"
He pulled the folder out and set it carefully on the table. "For the most part, yes."
"Good. He sometimes skips that part. As if people are supposed to innately understand his legal jargon," she said with a scoff.
Yugi laughed. "That sounds just like Kaiba."
A slight noise of mock disdain. "Unfortunately." Yugi heard the folder slide across the table. "Well, are you ready to get started?"
A loopy signature decorated the papers, and although each signing slanted a little off of the line, it was more than good enough.
That night, Yugi and Joey argued.
"I can't believe this, Yugi!" Joey yelled. At least he wasn't stomping around the kitchen anymore. "You're picking that bastard over me!"
Yugi shook his head, too tired for vehemence. "Joey, I'm not picking Kaiba over you. I… I'm picking me over you."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"
Yugi sighed. "Kaiba's offering me independence, confidence in myself again. Joe… I fell last night."
"What?" The anger immediately bled out of Joey's voice.
"I fell last night. I needed to go to the bathroom, and I tripped over something. I… I thought I ripped my stitches at first."
"Yug'..."
"Then, I almost grabbed Grandpa's straight razor when I was looking for the hand soap." Yugi rubbed his face. "I'm tired, Joey. I'm tired of getting up and then forgetting or losing confidence in where I am. I'm tired of getting stuck in the middle of the living room." Tears stung his eyes. A shaky, sniffling inhale. "I'm tired of everyone waiting on me. I just… I just want a little of it back, y'know?"
A hand on his shoulder, gentle but firmly squeezing. "Yeah, I get it, Yugi." A beat of silence. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I forget that you're capable of feeling hurt. Especially when you're so good at putting on a brave face." The angle of Joey's hand changed, and a chair creaked; Joey sat down. "And you're right. You need to think about you right now."
Yugi nodded, clumsily wiped away tears before they could fall. "I need to take care of Grandpa, too. I can't do that like this."
The tears wouldn't stop.
"I can't live like this."
The next appointment Yugi had was with Seto Kaiba himself.
One of Kaiba's musclemen came to pick him up, guided him out of the apartment and to a car. (Yugi guessed he was a 'muscleman' because the hand on his shoulder felt like an entire spiral ham resting on him.)
"Thank you," Yugi said, kind and genuine.
"You're… you're welcome," the man replied, at a loss.
"What's your name, if you don't mind my asking?" Yugi inquired as the car slid forward from park.
"... Michael."
"It's nice to meet you, Michael."
"It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Muto."
Yugi chuckled. "Just call me Yugi. Mr. Muto is my grandfather." He ran his hands along the leather seats. His palms were sweating profusely.
"All right, Yugi."
Kaiba saw on the tiny square in the corner of his screen when Yugi and Michael entered his office vestibule. The behemoth of a man led the much-smaller Yugi with a hand on his shoulder.
Kaiba inhaled deeply, though his chest felt tight with pressure.
Yugi had signed the contracts. Every last one of them.
Kaiba's personal secretary and receptionist buzzed his phone, and he immediately pressed the speaker button. "Let them in."
The door opened, and Michael guided Yugi across the threshold.
"Hello, Yugi," Kaiba greeted coolly.
Yugi smiled in his general direction. Sincere as always. "Hi, Kaiba."
"Have a seat," Kaiba said, pointedly stared at Michael and gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.
Michael led Yugi to his seat.
"That will be all, Michael." Kaiba dismissed the man with a nod.
Yugi turned slightly in his chair, smiled behind it. "Thank you, Michael."
"It was my pleasure, Yugi."
Kaiba stared after Michael as he left, the corner of his mouth turning down.
"You seem friendly today," Kaiba noted.
Yugi laughed. "I'm always friendly."
"Hn." Kaiba leaned back, regarded the young man before him. Yugi's eyes squinted in Kaiba's direction.
The light from the floor-to-ceiling windows was bothering him.
Kaiba flicked his fingers along the touchscreen built into his desk. The glass darkened.
Yugi blinked rapidly, and Kaiba could see his pupils dilate in response. "Thank you," Yugi murmured.
"You need to be more vocal when something is bothering you. Not everyone is as observant as I am," Kaiba said.
Yugi lowered his eyes. "Noted."
Kaiba thrummed his fingers on the desk. The atmosphere was tense. It could've been split with a butter knife.
"Why," Yugi said, sitting anxiously at edge of his seat.
Kaiba blinked drolly. "Why what?"
Yugi was fidgeting. His arms rubbed together. "Why are you helping me?"
Kaiba leaned back in his chair, his elbow resting on one arm of the seat. "Do I need a reason to help anyone?"
Yugi's lips twisted. "You do."
"Hn." Well, Yugi got him there. He watched Yugi's lips twist a few more times. "Don't worry about it."
Yugi sighed. "What happens next?"
Kaiba exhaled quietly. Finally down to business. "If you'd like, you can come to the Kaiba manor tonight. Two rooms have been prepared. One for you, one for your grandfather."
Yugi settled back into his chair. "If I'd like?"
Kaiba lifted a shoulder. "You can move in whenever it's convenient for you."
Yugi's cheeks flushed red. Humiliated. "As soon as possible is most convenient for me."
Kaiba laughed, almost condescending. "Is that mutt driving you away already?"
Yugi's eyes flashed with true ire. "Joey has done his best to help me and my grandfather."
Kaiba sniffed. He could feel the line he was toeing. "Then why did you contact Mrs. Deering?"
Yugi pinched the bridge of his nose. "I… I can't function like this. T-Tripping over myself all the time. Always feeling lost." He pressed his hands to his face. His fingers visibly shook. "Always feeling lost. I can be laying down and I don't even… d-don't even know where I am anymore."
Kaiba swallowed.
Yugi's breaths were shaking, and he rocked himself comfortingly in his seat. Deep, stuttering inhales. Exhales blowing through lips.
"S-Sorry," Yugi whimpered.
Kaiba looked away, and he gulped again.
"I can have appointments arranged for tomorrow," Kaiba said. "The Braille instructor. A physical therapist who specializes in treating the blind." Kaiba tapped a finger on his chin. "You could even pick out a nurse who can help you until you need otherwise."
Yugi rubbed his arms again, nodded. "Okay. Okay. That… That all sounds good."
Kaiba tapped a couple of things on the touch screen. "I can send someone to retrieve your belongings."
Yugi shook his head. "That won't be necessary." He slid his backpack down his arm and lifted it up by its handle strap.
"Everything I own is right here."
END PART
Okay, this might end up being longer than I suspected, buuuuuut I'm sure you guys won't mind :3