DIS: Now that I was able to read through the story, I'm all inspired again. I guess I should have done that a long time ago. In any case, thanks to everyone who reviewed and here is the next installment! The scene at the end of the chapter was inspired by the song, Fallen Leaves by Dan Gibson from his album, Forest Cello.
X
Chapter Twenty-Nine, Quiet Domino
It took an entire other week until the auditions were officially finished. During that week, Anzu had been able to alter her work schedule so that she would work in the evenings with Miho, as her practices would be in the mornings and she wasn't quite willing to give up her job at the café. She had already met with the instructors that would be putting together the ballet and had already discussed wages with them. She was surprised at the amount they were willing to offer, but was relieved that she would be able to finally pay Yami. Anzu was unconcerned about her own bills so long as she had her job at the café and even though the majority of the money from the ballet would go to Yami, she didn't mind – definitely deserved it for everything he had done.
With the departure of her dear friend and her own preoccupation, things seem to go quiet in Domino. She heard less from Mai, but also heard no concerns voiced by Jounouchi about the female, so she assumed that her time with Malik was...therapeutic, to say the least. Kaiba did not visit at all after Yami had left and Anzu had no reason to contact him, although she had saved his card. The days dragged by and as they did, they became cooler with the autumn air. More and more customers were dwelling in the café, keeping her and the other girls busy as they ordered hot chocolates, chai teas, and caramel ciders. The girls had taken to keeping a heater beneath the counter for whoever worked the cash wrap, as the door constantly blew in cool air. As Anzu sat at the cash wrap, she flipped through a magazine that one of the customers had left behind. Her feet were hanging in front of the heater, where it whirred beneath her. Miho was behind her, humming and washing down the counter.
Anzu sighed and shut the magazine, setting it aside and checking the time on her watch. They still had another hour before they had to close. She sighed again and dropped her hands, glancing over at the lobby that was full of customers murmuring to each other, huddled in their seats. She smiled slightly and slipped off the stool. She was dressed for cool clothing in black leggings, grey leg warmers and a long-sleeved maroon sweater dress. "I'm going to check on the customers," she told Miho, who bobbed her head. After Anzu went around and asked if anyone wanted a refill, getting a few affirmatives, she returned to the counter and handed the orders to Miho as the two of them began to make the drinks. In the middle of one, she felt a gust of cool air pass over her feet and turned to greet the customer, but paused in seeing Malik.
"This weather sucks," he said bluntly, bundled in a heavy jacket and a scarf. Anzu laughed.
"Hold on," she told him and after preparing the drink, she gave the cup to Miho and took the drinks they were finished, moving through the customers and handing them the drinks. When she returned, Miho was leaving to dispose of the last drinks. "Let me make you something, it'll be on the house."
"Anything warm," he muttered, hunching his shoulders. Anzu smiled, amused, and after making him an apple cider, she ushered him around the counter. He gave her a suspicious look, but did as she bid. Spotting the heater, he immediately went and stood by it.
"You must have just got done with auditions," she said, washing the shot glasses used and the steam wand on the machine.
"The last ones, finally," Malik grumbled, taking a cautious sip of his apple cider. "I understand why they auditioned for the big parts instead – so that those who didn't get their part could try the smaller parts – but that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. They didn't even do it the way I'm accustomed, just throwing you out there with people. I had thought they were going to do two different parts, which is what they usually do. They must be strapped on time." He fell silent at that, warming his hands with the cup. Anzu stood next to him, watched as Miho walked back up to the counter.
"I'm so tired," Miho yawned. "I'm going to take my break real quick, Anzu. Do you mind?" Anzu shook her head.
"No, go ahead."
After she had gone, Malik cleared his throat and said, "So...listen." Anzu turned to him with an inquisitive stare. "I know I told Yami that I was going to stay here while he was gone, but I recently got an email from a former employer that would like me to come into town. Town being Yokohama. I might have to stop in Tokyo on my way back and see if I can't find anything of interest. You're from over there, aren't you?"
"Yes...I lived in Yoyogi Uehara in Shibuya. It was quiet and we actually lived in a big house there. But Malik, if he wants to offer you a job, you won't be back, will you?"
"Not for awhile, at least," he admitted, "but I will be back eventually, don't you worry. As it stands, though, you have Ryou and Kaiba to look after you, along with Jounouchi and the others and when Yami gets back, you'll have him." Anzu must have had a dubious expression because he snickered, saying, "I know that Yami seems like a sweetheart to you, but he can be amazingly brutal when he needs to be. If he thought you were in danger, I'm sure that he would kill an entire building full of people just to ensure that you were alright." He reached out and gently clipped her chin with his thumb. "Stop worrying so much. You'll be okay. And it's not as though I won't have contact with Ryou to make sure you're alright."
"Ugh, I'm not a kid," Anzu said with a roll of her eyes. "Nobody needs to 'check up' on me."
"Excuse me for trying to be nice," Malik returned and drank from his cider. "But in all seriousness...I will be keeping an eye on you if I don't get back soon."
"Well, thank you," she said, smiling. She hesitated and then cleared her throat, asking, "Um...what about...Mai?" Malik surveyed her suspiciously over the top of his cup and sensing her caution in the question, he sighed and considered it a moment.
"Actually, I had a great time with her," he admitted at last. "She's not uptight and clingy like those stupid bitches that I have to deal with that fall all over me when I'm trying to teach them." Anzu laughed at his description and turned around, leaning her arms upon the counter, bending down slightly. Malik looked at her briefly and then continued, "Which is why I did it in the first place. I like to have fun with those girls and teach them a lesson, but I really was just in the mood to get laid and screw around with someone without worrying about a huge ass scene. She knows how this works, though, and it worked perfect for both of us. She got to relax and vent, I got what I wanted, and when I leave, it's not like it'll be with one of us having a broken heart – well, not from our situation, anyway." He tapped his cup with his fingers, his brow furrowing slightly. "What's that guy's problem, anyway?"
"Jounouchi's?" Anzu asked, tilting her head up to look at him. When he nodded in affirmation, she sighed. "It's not really my place to say, Malik. He's going through a lot right now and isn't really sure what to do."
"Bah," Malik grumbled, waving a hand and pushed off from the counter and tossed the remainder of his cider in the trash. "Relationships. Too much fucking trouble."
"They are," she agreed faintly, straightening. Malik eyed her at that and then held an arm out for her. She inched forward and he pulled her into an embrace. She remained there for a long moment. "I miss him," she said softly.
"Knowing him, I bet he's crying his eyes out," Malik reassured her with a smirk. She rolled her eyes and smacked him gently on the shoulder. "I'd best be going. I have an early train to catch tomorrow and if I don't get back soon, Ryou's going to send the police out to find me. That, or have a fit and bitch at me when I get there." He raised his hands and let them fall in disgust. Anzu merely giggled. "Anyway, take care of yourself, Anzu."
"Thanks. I'll miss you, Malik," she added as he rounded the counter, approaching the door.
"Actually," Malik told her with a devilish little smile, "I'll miss you, too." He waved and then slipped out of the café. Anzu smiled and then sat upon the stool again, warming her chilled feet. Miho returned some time later, but Anzu was staring out the windows of the door, unaware of her friend's presence. Miho crept up behind her and draped her arms over Anzu's shoulders, clasping her hands. Anzu started in surprise and looked up at her before smiling and touching Miho's hands with one of her own.
"It sure is quiet now," Miho said.
"Yeah...it really is."
After closing, Anzu bid Miho farewell and walked away from the café, her hands tucked inside her pea coat. It was dark out and there were very few people on the streets. She tilted her head back, peering up at the buildings. Lights twinkled up from the rooftops and a few windows. Far away, she could hear the sound of a car alarm going off and then instantly being silenced. The sky was black above her, the stars invisible in the city lighting. She sighed and dropped her head back down, walking past the opera house. She paused a moment, looking at the dark clear windows that formed the basis of the opera house. Around the windows was the white of the building, glaringly apparent even without the lamps. She turned away from the opera house and its beautifully modern structure, continuing on another block until she came to her car. She drew her keys out and slipped inside the car and starting it. She sat there, allowing it to warm up, yet her mind was occupied by how lonely she felt.
X
Yami heard his name called and straightened before walking onto the stage, giving a regal wave and a nod to the audience that politely clapped. He did a swift turn on his foot and then settled at the piano. The audience carefully died down and then he set his fingers to the keys, closing his eyes. A soft melody exuded from the piano, a combination of short notes and a slow tempo. His fingers slipped along the keys easily, never missing a beat. The concert hall was appropriate with a beautiful sound to the music, echoing all around him. The notes seemed to swell, piercing the audience, even when they changed from forte to pianissimo.
His pieces lasted some time and when he finally rose to his feet, the audience rose, their hands meeting excitedly. He bowed and even after he had left the stage, they continued to clap, causing the director of the program to usher him out, where he gave yet another bow that the audience delighted in. Afterward, he was finally allowed to resign behind stage, where he settled himself in one of the rooms. He released a long sigh, closing his eyes as he put a hand to his forehead in exhaustion. He hadn't been aware that Kaiba had signed him up for a concert program until he had arrived at his villa, where they had left a letter and instructions for him of his upcoming performance at the Palais Garnier. He had only performed at the Garnier at one other time and he had been astounded by the beauty and splendor of the venue and while he had never been disappointed with it, he still felt somewhat disgruntled that Kaiba had not given him some sort of forewarning.
"It was such a beautiful ending for the program, Mr. Mutou!" the director gushed as soon as Yami had joined the other performers as they moved to join the audience in one of the spacious entertainment rooms. "It has been so long since you have been here with us that I was so pleased to see you join us in the program. It was a bit last minute, of course, but as soon as the Parisians discovered that you were to be present, it seemed that we sold tickets even faster than before!"
"Well, I am sure that is merely because of the later date," Yami responded modestly, smiling lightly.
"Certainly, certainly," the director said with a conspiratorial wink towards him. Yami almost sighed. "In any case, I have a few...particular...customers that I wish to attend to. Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen, and again, thank you for your performances!"
Yami drifted from the other musicians, not wishing to begin a conversation involving the director's comments. While they had shown great respect when introduced to him, Yami did not appreciate the director's disregard towards them, placing him in a difficult situation. While he made polite conversation with the audience members, many of whom were new faces to him, he kept a close eye on his surroundings. He was no longer in safe territory and would have to be careful in spotting a certain set of faces that would be difficult to escape in this type of crowd. A good number of women subtly indicated that they were available to join him at the end of the night and he kindly declined each invitation or ignored them completely, often saying, "Well, at least you will be able to get sleep," when they mentioned how they had no other plans after that.
"Yami!" he turned and nearly groaned at seeing the familiar face. The woman smiled at seeing him. She had thick, straight blonde hair and a dash of freckles over her nose, but still appeared the wealthy, beautiful woman that she happened to be. Near the beginning of his career, Rebecca Hopkins had financed him and being a highly influential American, she was able to draw him close to many societal figures and in many ways, she had helped his career grow as smoothly as it had done. While he was infinitely grateful for her help and had considered her a good friend for the first years outside of Hanazawa and his parent's control, their relationship had begun to take an unexpected turn. For a brief time, they were together as a couple and while they had been sincere in their affection, she wished to continue on with other men and Yami, as he always had done, simply wanted a family.
"Rebecca," Yami greeted in a strained tone. "I wasn't aware that you were in Paris."
"Oh, well, you know how much I love these big cities," she said flippantly, placing a hand on one of her rounded hips. She was wearing a black dress modestly cut, the top halter covering any cleavage, yet baring her shoulders and back and the silk draping down to the ground where it flipped around her ankles as she walked towards him. "The fashion, the class, the intellect, and let's not forget the men." She gave him a charming smile.
"Yes, we both know how much you love your men from the wealthy class," he said mildly.
"I hope that isn't bitterness I hear, Yami." She approached him, slipping a hand into the crook of his elbow. "I know how sensitive you always were. But I'm glad that I happened to spot your name on the program. I wouldn't have come if I hadn't known you were performing. Your music sounds lovely, as always." He gave a small smile in response. "I've seen you rejecting these ladies one by one," she added, gesturing with a hand, "and I can't help but wonder what's made my handsome, playboy Yami so reluctant to go have a bit of fun with a woman? I can't imagine that they're all ugly. There were quite a few exceptionally beautiful ones."
Gently dislodging her hands from him, he said simply, "I'm not interested in them tonight." He gave another small smile. "Excuse me." Before Rebecca was able to pull him back, he slipped through the crowds and as people stopping him, he made quick, polite remarks, and continued through. He occasionally whipped out a flattering comment, making certain that he did not lose any fans from his hasty greetings. As soon as emerged from the room, he hastened through the Garnier and was able to break out into the cool, Parisian air. He drew in a quick breath and then hailed a taxi, rattling off his destination. After sending a quick look over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed him and satisfying himself that Rebecca was still within, he relaxed and stared out the taxi windows.
The encounter with Rebecca had shaken him, although he would not like to admit it. He had not seen her in many years and had made it a point to not see her, after the end of their rocky relationship. Seeing her lovely face had been a shock to him, as he had not seen him for so long. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, his eyebrows knitting together. At one point in his life, he had thought that Rebecca was the woman for him up until he had actually gotten in a relationship with her. When they were together, they had been happy, but when he saw her across the room with another man at an event that she was not aware that he was attending, he had felt bitterness and resentment.
Shivering as he recalled the many infractions that she had performed against him, he missed Anzu more than ever. His world was made up of so many different, unwholesome characters. It seemed that only in Domino could he find the truly admirable people that he wanted in his life. Even the group of people in Anzu's life, like Jounouchi, Mai, or Miho, was much better than the ones that he had to encounter while he was abroad. Even though he knew it was dangerous, he wanted to call Anzu simply to hear her voice and her sweet laughter when they spoke. He knew that it would calm him and remind him that he had something better to come to once he was finished in France.
He sighed heavily. I can't call her, though, he thought glumly. I can't call anyone there, not even Kaiba.
Resigning himself to his own insecurities, he paid the driver as he pulled to his villa and gave his thanks, murmuring, "Merci beaucoup."
He unlocked the tall gates and after securing the gates, he tucked his keys into his pocket. The front of the villa was lit up. There was a luxurious collection of green bushes in front of the villa, with lights lit up at the base of the bushes. In the middle a path led to the grand, white villa with metal garden arbors that arched over the pathway leading up to the door. Yami unlocked the door and after slipping into the dimly lit villa, he sighed and tossed his keys on the small table near the door and then passed his hand over his face. He stared down at his hands for a long moment and then raised his head, his brows furrowing at hearing a sound within the kitchen.
Cautiously walking through the villa, he pressed himself against the wall and peered around the corner to see a familiar male hunched over the refrigerator. "Damn it," Yami swore, startling the elderly man who jumped and smacked his head against a shelf in the fridge. The man had gray hair that was fitted beneath a black cap, with features strikingly similar to Yami's with the exception of wider, violet eyes; he had a trimmed beard that lined his jaw and a groomed mustache and while it was clear he was well into his fifties, if not older, he appeared fit and without an ailments. His arms were full of an assortment of foods, clearly planning on making some sort of meal. A lemon rolled away from him after dropping it. "How did you get in and what are you doing here?"
"What do you mean?" the man asked blankly, setting the items carefully on the kitchen counter that jutted out, separating the kitchen in half. Adjoining the kitchen was the empty, dark dining room.
"You know what I mean, grandfather," Yami said, glaring at him. Sugoroku Mutou continued to cast him an innocent stare. "You go and disappear for a few years and then you pop out of nowhere and somehow you always manage to get into my house and know where I'm at. That doesn't exactly make me comfortable."
"It's not like you don't disappear, either," Sugoroku told him with a pouty stare. "I always tend to lose you for at least a few months. It's only when you come up to this part of Europe that I'm able to catch you again. I always stay in the same place, but you move around so much." Sugoroku closed the refrigerator after gathering a few things. "I was hoping you'd be out late, getting laid and drinking so that you'd be a little more welcoming when you got home. I thought I'd make us some dinner, by the way."
"Us, or you?"
"Well, me, but it's not like there's not enough here for you."
"You haven't answered my question," Yami said tensely as his grandfather bustled around the kitchen preparing it for dinner. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm not here on an errand from your parents," Sugoroku answered, taking a bite of an apple and chomping on it as he pulled out pans and measuring cups. After setting the items beside the food, he shrugged off the black blazer he was wearing, revealing a white dress shirt. He rolled his sleeves up and tossed the blazer on the square, wooden table set up on the other side of the kitchen. "You know that I've been keeping out of their way ever since they decided to lose all their senses and start a manhunt for their son. Besides their concerts, that's all they're doing, it seems." Yami pursed his lips and then bent down, picking up the lemon and handing it to Sugoroku. "Thank you." He smiled, but Yami had his arms folded over his chest, boring holes through his grandfather. "Ah, Yami, you'll get wrinkles that way." When Yami scowled at him, his grandfather sighed and paused, saying, "Fine, fine, have it your way. Actually, I only found out that you were in Paris because of your friend, Rebecca. As you know, her father and I have always been close friends and she was demanding to know why you hadn't contacted her lately and why you didn't know that she was in Paris, etc., etc., you know – the usual – but in any case, I knew that you'd be staying at your villa and wanted to see my grandson."
"Grandfather."
"Oh," Sugoroku muttered around a mouthful of apple, "also...your parents are in Spain, so you might not want to linger here. They'll get wind of your appearance here shortly, I'm sure."
"Thank you for not beating around the bush more," Yami said with a touch of sarcasm, although when he turned from Sugoroku, who had returned to cooking, his expression was worried. Absent-mindedly, he opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of wine and after collecting a wine glass, he filled it halfway and sipped at it thoughtfully. The calm of the alcohol soothed his nerves and he was able to think more clearly. He knew he had several other concerts lined up and with Kaiba's booking skills, they were all over Europe and while he would be returning to France for another concert in a different part of the country, it was at the end and he would be touching in other countries in Europe by that point. If he was lucky, he would be able to avoid any direct conflict with them.
"Why not just poison them?" Sugoroku suggested.
"Why don't you?"
"They leave me alone," Sugoroku said with a shrug. "I travel a lot, but not because I'm being hunted, Yami. It's you they're after. Besides, they know I'm a threat. They're suspicious of me and would never let me get close enough. You, on the other hand – "
"I told myself I was done killing after I left Hanazawa and that hasn't changed. I won't allow myself to sink to their level."
"And running all the time is going to make things better?" Sugoroku queried mildly as he poured olive oil in a heated pan. Yami shot him an irritated look and after shoving the wine back in the refrigerator, he stomped out of the kitchen. "Where are you going?" he called after him.
"To take a shower," Yami replied sharply.
"Give the boy some helpful advice and he automatically gets upset," Sugoroku grumbled, shaking his head.
While Yami was still enjoying the night, Anzu had just been woken from her dreams and lay in bed for a long while. It was still dark out and after she hazarded a look at the clock, she released a long sigh at seeing that it was barely past five. She lay for a long time, trying to relax and drift back into sleep; however, her body refused to offer her anymore rest. Rising out of bed, she collected a warm, fluffy cardigan and pulled it around her, walking out into the living room. She pulled open the balcony doors and stepped out, leaning against the railing. Her breath materialized in front of her face, swift puffs of white floating from her. She closed her eyes briefly and then stared out at Domino City. It was still quiet and seemed utterly still with the day just beginning. Tall buildings loomed ahead of her, their bright signs and lights clashing against the darkness of the sky. She could see morning frost on the cars in the parking lot of her apartment complex when she looked down and every once in a while, a car would glide down the road, breaking the silence of the night briefly.
Shivering, Anzu rubbed her arms and returned inside her apartment, shutting the balcony doors behind her. She went inside her bedroom again and turned her bedside lamp on. She glanced from her bed and then moved to her bookshelf, pulling a small miniature off. It was one of the dancers that had been in the basket of flowers that Yami had sent to her as an apology gift for his first meeting with her father. She took the miniature and slipped back into bed, huddling beneath the covers. She held the miniature in her hands, staring at the subtle angles and shape of the dancer's face. She laid her own cheek against it and stared across her. A smile crossed her lips as she thought of Yami and she closed her eyes.
I just wish he were back here with us.
X
DIS: I realize that it seems odd that Anzu is going from the conversation with her mother to this, but I promise you that it will fit when the next chapter is posted. In any case, please leave some feedback on your way out. Constructive criticism is always embraced and any type of suggestion is appreciated. Ciao!
