I admit, I'm a little disappointed by some parts of this chapter, but inspiration and motivation to write has been lacking a lot these past few months. So, this is what you guys get. I hope you love it, either way. XD

Also, the chapter count will be... a bit higher than I originally intended. How much higher? I have no idea. I also have the next chapter finished, but I'm not posting it right away. So, sorry for that. You may have in sometime next week, if I remember to post it XD

AND: I made this story a cover-image. Meaning, I drew it. What do you guys think? :D

Ok, I'll leave you to read now! Enjoy!
~Fallen

~ Chapter II ~

Hobbies

Hobbies were interesting things.

They ranged from all sorts of subjects and activities – some people would exercise, some would collect certain objects, some would read, play an instrument...

Yuugi would create.

Through writing, drawing, sculpting – anything he could do with the materials he could collect. The temptation to partake in these past-time habits would also vary on the situation. Whether it be boredom, anxiousness, joy, sorrow, rage, or just for something to do with one's life.

Yuugi didn't exactly know why he would do this.

Usually, it would be triggered by some sort of event that reminded him of his past. When an old, buried memory would dig its way back up, and haunt his mind until he couldn't stand it anymore. If he was dwelling on something he or another person had said or done, letting it flow in his head, its nuisance much like that of a pesky insect that buzzed around his ears. Or, when a bad dream or flashback hit him in the night, terrorizing his unconscious mind to the point where he could have sworn he was living it all over again. And, every now and again, Yuugi would just be... sad. Hit by wave after wave of blue nostalgia, when his mind and memories seemed to be more set on reliving the past, rather than embracing his future. They were somewhat uncommon, though had steadily increased in frequency over the years, and could last anywhere from a few hours, to a few days. Where his head was hollow, his bright eyes would dim, and his body would become lethargic. Usually, he would just... lay in bed, or slink aimlessly around the house, desperate for any sort of distraction from the thoughts and memories that only served in dragging him down, further and further into the pits of depression he had been trying so desperately to escape over the years following Atemu's passing.

And though they had all drifted apart little by little, over the past decade, Yuugi's friends would still worry and fret over him during these times, as if he were some lost, innocent child who couldn't find his family in the supermarket. But, he supposed they had every right to. He would be concerned, as well, if any of his friends decided to lock themselves up in their home for days on end, without so much as a phone call, oftentimes refusing to even get out of bed.

Most times, Mai, Jounouchi, or Shizuka would take it upon themselves to pay him a little visit, and keep him company for a few hours, trying to lift his spirits a little. And he appreciated it – he really did – but... Yuugi found himself preferring to be left alone during those times. He didn't want to burden his friends with his darkening thoughts, but he didn't want to ignore them, altogether! He didn't want to worry them. And he especially didn't want them to see him during his more... emotional phases of these little funks he would get.

Some days, it would all just hit him at once, like a tsunami of negative thoughts and emotions, rendering Yuugi unable to do more than just lay in bed and try not to break into tears. When the 'nostalgia surge', as he had come to refer to the draining little episodes as, overwhelmed him, he would just sit in his room, laying in bed, willing away the memories he was reliving. It wasn't uncommon for him to go a day or two without eating.

This was usually the point where he would pick up a pencil.

Drawing out the scenes that raged on inside the confines of his head was one of the few ways he could help to ease the burden, the building pressure in his chest. His hand would often move without any conscious effort or thought to what it was doing. Almost as if he were in a trance, or if someone else was there, doing it for him. Like when Atem had possessed his body during a duel, for example. It was almost as if he were sleeping while doing it – one moment, he'd be staring at a blank sheet of paper, the next, a complete landscape or person would show up on the page before him.

Which sets up the current predicament the former King of Duelists found him in right now.

Something about that meteor shower, now a little over a week ago, had set off one of these unpleasant nostalgic surges. And, like usual, it had led to what appeared to be him trying to vanish from the face of the earth. The ringing of the telephone was ignored, the voicemail remaining unheard, and the shop closed. Anyone who was a regular to the store knew by now that it would probably remain that way for, at least, a few more days. Those whom took the time out of their days to converse with Yuugi when browsing knew that the man had secrets, ones that were often on the mind and probably would remain so for the remainder of his days. What they were was anyone's guess.

For a kind and caring individual, Mutou Yuugi was a surprisingly secretive young man.

But, to digress...

It wasn't quite the episode he found himself in that was the problem.

It was the setting.

All he could recall from that morning upon waking, was making his way downstairs in his sweatpants and top, making a cup of tea to soothe his nerves after a particularly bad dream (which he now could not remember), and feeling the extreme compulsion to fetch his sketchbook from upstairs...

Now, he found himself sitting in his office, a good four or so hours into his morning later, with the room scattered generously in paper, graphite and colored pencils, charcoal sticks, erasers, and even a select few canvases now covered with drying acrylic paint. It looked like a damn hurricane had swept its way through the place! Not to mention he looked as if he'd just been through a wrestling match with a giant slab of graphite. His hands were tinted silver from the stuff, along with several streaks up his arms and smudges on his face (how that happened, he had absolutely no idea).

He didn't even remember the last four hours! How many drawings had he created?

Good Gods, I've had memory blanks, but this is freaking ridiculous! he thought with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, once again studying his hands with something just short of dismay. It would take ages to clean this mess up! Let alone scrub the splatters of ink, pencil, and paint off of his skin! That, and he had to wait for the paintings to dry, and clean up all the wood and eraser shavings from the carpet, re-store all the extra acrylic paint the best he could, soak the brushes before he could clean them, put the easels away, reorganize the charcoal and colored pencils, pack away his sketchbooks again...

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. With a groan, he ignored it, and went about trying to straighten up the mess best he could without leaving graphite smudges everywhere.

The phone rang. Again, Yuugi ignored it. It went to voicemail.

Then his cellphone rang. The house phone started up moments after that.

And someone was still ringing the goddamn doorbell.

Yuugi groaned, This is going to be a long day, he mentally lamented.

"Coming!" he called, quickly making his way down the stairwell, trying his best to avoid touching the railing or walls, so he wouldn't leave behind any off-silver residue. Briefly, he pondered if he should splash his face with some water from the kitchen faucet, but quickly decided against it. He knew that it would only be familiar faces awaiting him.

After all, only one man alive could be this obnoxious about making his presence known.

"Yuug', c'mon, man! I know yer in there!" came an achingly familiar, accented voice, though it was greatly muffled by the locked door. "Ya' can't stay in there forever!" Peeking through the peephole, though he already knew who it was, Yuugi rolled his eyes, but gave a fond smile and shake of the head as the distorted face, partially covered by blonde bangs met him. It looked like someone else was in the background, but he couldn't make them out.

He unlocked the door, and peeked outside, having to squint slightly to adjust his eyes to the light. "Hey, Jou..." he greeted quietly with a kind smile. To his delight, he could see the rugged blonde's wife standing behind him, offering kind greetings and a warm smile. "Hi Mai," he added, getting a cheery, "Hey, Hun'" in return. Jounouchi only grinned, as Yuugi stood behind the door, and held it open as an invitation to come inside.

Jounouchi swept his shorter friend up into an enthusiastic hug the moment the doorway closed behind him, even going the extra step, and bending back a little to lift him up off of his feet. "Hey, pal! Long time no see!" Yuugi groaned, but couldn't help but to chuckle even as the air was being forced from his lungs. He returned the embrace, only much more gently. "How've ya' been? Ya' weren't pickin' up tha' phone!" As he dropped Yuugi back to the ground, his amber eyes widened, taking in his friend's disheveled appearance. If there was one thing Jounouchi Katsuya knew his friend prided himself on, it was his appearance. He always liked looking put-together and organized, rather than "some slob who didn't understand the concept of the words 'personal hygiene'," as the shorter male had told him once before.

Yuugi glanced to his grayed hands, smeared-up arms, and making the mistake to reach up and touch his face, therefore only spreading the mess. He gave a sheepish grin to his two friends – both looked like they were holding back laughter – and said, "Eh... you, uh... kind of caught me at a bad time," he informed with a chuckle. Mai snorted with amusement from beside him.

"We can see that."

Jou bust out into laughter, while his female companion gave a more quiet giggle. "God, Yuug', what'd ya' do? Make-out wit' a giant pencil?" he joked, slapping his friend heartily on the shoulder while the spiky-haired man just rolled his eyes with a fond huff, and led them into the kitchen.

"You could say I've... been busy the past few hours. Drawing, and such..." This made his friends' laughter pause. They both knew what that meant, and it made a great amount of concern fill the atmosphere. "It's no big deal, though. I mean, it passes the time, right? I don't even remember it." His mind immediately screamed bad idea! at mentioning the apparent four-hour-long lapse of memory. Yuugi bit back a rough groan, and resisted the urge to smack himself.

To try to distract his friends (somewhat in vain, might he add), he made an offer of food and beverage. It wasn't turned down (this was Jounouchi, after all). He went about warming some water for tea whilst Jounouchi helped himself to whatever he could find in the kitchen. "Mai, do you want something?" he asked, "I mean, you are technically eating for two, now."

She just waved her hand dismissively with a smile. "No, thanks, Hun'. I had something before we headed out here." She sat forward in her seat as much as her swelling stomach allowed her, chin perched elegantly on the backs of her interlaced fingers, her lavender eyes observing. The woman, despite being in the middle of her second trimester of pregnancy, still held that beauty, elegance, and overall sass she contained before she got a proverbial bun in the oven. Yuugi offered a somewhat-sheepish smile, mentally preparing himself for what was to come from her next. To have an excuse to break eye contact with those lilac eyes, he turned, and turned on the sink. Using some dish soap, he began to try and scrub away the shiny, gray graphite residue from his arms and hands. He heard her give a small sigh, before shifting.

And cue the interrogation.

"So..." the woman drawled, being sure to draw out the short word as much as she could, "You've been drawing again?" Yuugi glanced over his shoulder, offering a playful smile.

"I would think the answer to that is rather obvious," he teased.

"How long for this time?" came the next question, Mai not missing a beat. Even Jounouchi had paused, knowing better than to cause any sort of distraction when his wife was in one of her 'moods'. Discreetly, he tossed his friend a look that said "good luck", and went to seat himself at the table. Yuugi shot him a sarcastic expression, one brow raised with a frown on his face, as if to say "gee, thanks", before merely shrugging.

"N... Not for very long..." he fibbed unconvincingly. It was well-known between Yuugi and his friends that Yuugi was an absolutely horrid liar. It just wasn't in his nature, no matter how badly he wanted to avoid troubling someone with the truth. With a warning growl of "Yuugi..." from Mai, he knew it was pointless.

No-one in their right mind would ever mess with a pregnant woman. Let alone one who was just over six months along.

He sighed, giving in whilst his fingers still worked to roughly scrub away the artistic residue from his skin. "I don't really know... give or take, about thirty minutes... three, maybe four hours?" He felt his shoulders draw up, almost as if trying to instinctively hide himself, as the concern filled the married couples' widened eyes. "I don't even know who or what it was I drew, honestly... I didn't bother looking."

Yuugi watched the grayed water twist and splash against the sink, before spinning down the drain. He grabbed a hand-towel from the fridge handle, placed for convenience in moments such as this, and dried his hands, before wetting a corner of it, and wiping away at the lingering graphite on his cheek. The kettle on the stove began to give a shrill whistle, making Yuugi jump slightly, before he went to work on making his friends some tea, doing his best to avoid eye contact. He paused as the sound of wooden chair legs scraping against a linoleum floor met his ears, along with somewhat unbalanced footsteps. He closed his eyes, giving a sharp, almost dismayed sigh as they made their way up the stairs.

He quickly turned to follow them. "Mai..." he breathed, "Come on, it's not that big of a deal, just... don't worry about it!" he called after the blonde as she quickly turned towards Yuugi's office space. "Really, it's a total mess in there – just a few drawings, there's really nothing to be so concerned about!"

Before she could open the door, he slipped in front of her, back pressing to the wood, looking almost as if he wanted to protect what lay beyond it. Mai's purple eyes widened slightly, before narrowing. "If it's nothing to worry about, why are you trying to hide it?" she questioned, expression stern.

Yuugi offered a sheepish grin, and a halfhearted shrug, watching as Jounouchi came up behind his wife, "I just... I-I don't really see why you make such a big deal out of this, that's all. It's just a hobby..." he argued weakly, resolve already faltering as violet locked onto amethyst. There was a mother's reprimand behind those irises, and Yuugi secretly wished her unborn child the best of luck beneath that gaze in the future.

He knew they were concerned, and for a good reason. All of their friends knew about Yuugi's little... creative jags, and they all knew what caused them. It was a way for Yuugi to lose himself and try to escape his emotions, and each time the moments of detachment became more and more intense. Honestly, he knew they all feared that one day he'd just... stop connecting entirely. Like before he had solved the Millennium Puzzle. And... sometimes...

Yuugi feared it, too.

So, that was why, with a hearty sigh of defeat, he dropped his arms to his sides, and stepped away from the door. Crossing his arms over his chest, and tapping a foot in slight anxiety, he waited for them to enter the threshold of the room. He paused when two twin gasps met his ears. "What?" he asked quietly, trying to peek over their shoulders in the doorway. Damn his lack of height! "What?" he prompted again, like an impatient child.

Strange as it may seem, Yuugi honestly had no memory of his creations during this particular jag – so he was rather in the dark at what was causing his friends' surprise. He gingerly slipped between them (which was easier said than done, considering Mai's belly), and looked into the mess that was his office. His eyes soon widened along with the others', mumbling something incoherent. Because... staring back at him, was... his face. The face he hadn't seen in a decade. The one he had lived with for what had seemed like an eternity, and the face that seemed to find it amusing to haunt Yuugi's mind for the remainder of his days.

Pencils, charcoal, paintings...

Every single medium, left a new perspective of the Pharaoh's face, frozen in time, as it had been within Yuugi's memory.

Well, be sure to drop a review and tell me what you guys think, please! It really does help me get motivated to write more! And to make the stories better for you guys! ^-^