42. Signal Fire – Snow Patrol
"It's really you," Anzu whispered with the last of her voice. The rest had dried up in the confusion and magic and sheer terror of being involved in a the-world-really-does-hang-in-the-balance-and-oh-did-we-mention-we're-deciding-its-fate-with-a-children's-card-game? situation and not being able to fight. She felt like a dishcloth that'd been wrung out by a sumo wrestler, dunked into a tub of blood and then tossed into a pack of hungry dogs – worried and worn out and absolutely done with this whole ordeal. Seriously. Done.
Until, that is, Yuugi turned around and it was Yuugi, not the Pharaoh looking back at her through those purple eyes. Once upon a time she hadn't been able to tell when they'd switched, but there was something so irrevocably Yuugi in his gaze that her knees gave way and she just about launched herself at him before she hit the floor.
"Anzu!" he yelped.
She hugged him tighter. He smelled of dust and desert and places he hadn't been, except that he had, except that it'd been the Pharaoh, except that … and … oh to hell with it. Screw higher brain functions, she was going on autopilot and sinking into her emotional core for a minute.
"I thought I'd never see you again," she said somehow, her stomach churning and her tears flowing freely. So what if people were watching? Let 'em watch. Yuugi was back and that was all that mattered.
"I'm … glad to see you too," Yuugi replied, clearly bewildered. Apparently in his world getting your soul sucked out, stolen, held to ransom, nearly used as lizard-food and finally returned in a burst of blinding light didn't merit a hug. It probably didn't even merit a handshake – not from her. He'd always had weird ideas about physical contact. She was his oldest friend and he couldn't even stand her holding his shoulder without wriggling away and making some excuse.
She pressed herself closer to him like she'd never let go, squashing her chest until it was actually painful to inflate her lungs. Yuugi choked a little, so she finally loosened her arms, wiping her eyes with the heel of one hand and so missing his red his face had gone.
There were voices behind them. Jounouchi and Honda, given tacit permission by Anzu's behaviour, ran up to abandon their machismo and deliver their own hugs. They whapped him on the back and noogied him, but they hugged him too.
And then the room was trembling more than Anzu's hands, but for one last moment she was oblivious to it all. She just kept staring at Yuugi's face, wondering why she'd never before noticed the nuances of how he smiled compared to Yami – that slight crinkle in his nose, the way his cheeks raised and he showed more of his top teeth the moment it turned from a simple smile to a full-blown grin.
"I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost you for good," gurgled up from inside her of its own accord.
"Erm …" Yuugi blinked rapidly, until Jounouchi yelled something and he, at least, realised the severity of the situation. After all, the room was caving in. You couldn't just ignore something like that because your friend was staring at you like you were a candy bar and she hadn't eaten for a week.
But when they ran out, it was Anzu who grabbed Yuugi's hand and dragged him along. She wanted him safe and well, and she wanted him to stay that way. After all this, no way was she letting him out of her sight again.