(no subject)
Jul. 23rd, 2006 09:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_goldenpathFandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Characters: Yami no Yuugi (Atemu) & Mutou Yuugi
Prompt: # 29 Birth
Word Count: 14.302 (this fic total)
Rating: PG
Summary: After almost three years of waiting, the Mutou family finally welcomes a baby girl in their midst.
Author's Notes: End of series “fix-it”. Characters are around 20 years of age. Shounen ai. Made up name for Yuugi’s mother: “Yusuke”. Minor character death!
continued from Part 1/2
Time went by, and despite his promise, Yuugi didn’t bring up the topic he and his grandfather discussed about with Atemu. The elderly man’s health seemed to stabilize, and his seventy-eighth birthday was celebrated, the family gathered together around his bed. For a moment, Yuugi thought his grandfather was going to hold a similar speech when they were eating the birthday cake and looking at the greeting cards Suguroku had received, but he never did say a word about it. Yuugi knew he had to talk about this to Atemu, knowing that the former Pharaoh had discussed this with grandfather as well- and he felt ashamed for not daring to touch the subject. He simply didn’t want to think about it, wanting everything to remain the same- and his grandfather to be alive for decades to come.
He buried himself in university assignments, working together with Otogi on the DDM handheld game which was about to be taken into production, and spending his free time to help Atemu with the redecoration of the guest room. He was fairly amused by the colors his other self had chosen- sandy and sunny colors, a variety of camel brown and warm yellow. They probably could re-do the entire decoration thing if their daughter wanted to have sparkly pink princess wallpaper and accessories in the future, though he wasn’t really looking forward to that. While the days went by, they managed to find nice second-hand furniture; all painted with a yellowish white that gave a very antique, ancient impression. They bought the complete set of bed, cupboard, dresser, nightstand and a small table with two chairs- the table could serve as a desk later, and was adjustable in height, just like the chairs.
Yuugi’s mother donated a lot of clothes and toys obtained via her friends, who knew others with kids who outgrew their clothing or toys- Yuugi never had imagined that there was such a lively second-hand market, and that people were so friendly and willingly to share. Their friends- Anzu, Otogi, Jounouchi, Honda, Bakura and others they knew-, were also quite ecstatic about the upcoming expansion of the family, mostly giving them more luxury gifts. Anzu had even send a present, a beautiful lamp in the form of a ballerina, holding the bulb and light shade in her carefully sculptured hands, all the way from the United States.
Yuugi was very glad and grateful for everything he received, praising himself lucky with such caring friends and family. Buying everything new would’ve been a severe drain on their savings, and paying for his tuition with the very small profits of the store was sometimes hard enough. He’d earned himself prize money when he still was participating in tournaments, but Atemu was in charge of the finances. Yuugi had never exactly asked how they got by- the fact that Atemu never complained or never said anything about any monetary predicaments was proof enough for him that everything was still fine and dandy.
The long-anticipated call arrived at a Wednesday afternoon; Yuugi was upstairs studying for one of his end-of-semester exams after having spend an hour playing Go with his grandfather. He heard Atemu coming up the stairs- he had a far heavier footstep than Yuugi’s mother, so that was easy to distinguish- and he closed his book, having heard the phone ring just a few minutes before.
“We can go see her this Friday, and if everything goes all right we can take her immediately home with us,” Atemu said, a warm smile gracing his face.
“That’s wonderful!” Yuugi cheered, throwing his arms around Atemu and hugging him. The pictures the agency had send were grainy and low quality- they wondered exactly why, didn’t anyone there dispose over a digital camera?- and they both loved to meet their daughter in the flesh. “We’re finally going to see her!”
“We are finally going to see her,” Atemu repeated, kissing him lightly on the lips. “We have waited for so long…”
“And done so much work… well, actually you did most of the work,” Yuugi said. “It must have been so tiring for you, mou hitori no boku, to have gone through all those tests and procedures.”
“I would do so immediately again,” Atemu answered, smiling at Yuugi. “With a reward such like this, how could I not?”
“Tzuziko-chan will love it here,” Yuugi said, nuzzling his other self. He couldn’t get enough of those arms around him, feeling loved, protected and safe.
“I am sure of it…”
“Oh.. what am I going to wear when we’re going to pick her up?”
“I think we have to leave the leather pants at home, aibou.”
“Darn!”
---------------
One of the main reasons Yuugi was glad that Atemu had gone through the whole procedure was because of the agency itself. Ooshimuru, despite its good and renowned reputation, was nothing short of a clinic to Yuugi - cold, emotionless, super hygienic, a sterile office, out of place concidering the work they did here. It didn’t help that the receptionist, hair painfully pulled back into a tight bun, large, black-framed glasses on her nose, didn’t radiate any friendliness at all, as well as the number they had been assigned from some weird ticketing machine.
Yuugi sat down in the waiting room, after greeting the two other couples already present, and stared at the printed number in his hands.
“We’re nothing but a number,” he muttered, but it was loud enough for the other couple to overhear. The man of the couple threw him a compassionate, almost pitiful look- people knew here how stressing and difficult an adoption procedure was, especially with the emotions involved- emotions this particular agency barely seemed to recognize.
“Tanaka-san will soon call for us,” Atemu said, only nodding with his head towards the others in the waiting room, ignoring the quaint looks he received- most people would give the both of them a rather surprised look, seeing their similar appearance.
He sat down next to Yuugi, studying the number. There was a stack of very old magazines on the plastic table next to them, but Yuugi didn’t feel much for reading them. He hoped that their caseworker would call for them soon; he was extremely nervous. Time seemed to crawl in this particular room, and his hopes went up when a woman came into the waiting room- but called for the other couple. Atemu patted him on the knee, as to console him.
“Have patience, Yuugi,” he said, and grimaced- they thought it was for the better to refer to each other with their ordinary names in public. After all, it wouldn’t do them very good to call each other ‘aibou’ and ‘mou hitori no boku’ in front of their caseworker, now would it? Yuugi hated hearing his name from Atemu; it just didn’t feel right. He sunk away in dark, almost depressive and irritated thoughts when the door of the waiting room opened again.
“Mutou-san,” the woman said, clutching a clipboard to her chest. She had a friendly face, but didn’t show real sympathy or compassion- Yuugi didn’t really like her at first sight, but showed her a warm smile. This was the woman who decided over their daughter… he’d better be at his best behavior. It hardly dawned to him that they had been waiting for two hours; he’d been so completely lost in his thoughts that he had lost track of time.
She led them to her room, a small office that contained a desk with computer, two chairs, a file cabinet and a sidetable. There was only some kind of painting on the wall for decoration- Yuugi couldn’t make heads or tails out of it and didn’t want to take the risk by offending the woman by commenting on it.
They both sat down, while she immediately started talking- about the supervision they would have to endure for at least six months, that the baby could be taken away again when they failed to meet certain standards and progress, and her words quickly went into one ear and out the other. While Yuugi maintained a neutral face, he wished the woman would be more positive and stressing the good things instead of all the bad things that might happen. After a long time hearing her drone on about things- he’d ask Atemu later about what she’d been saying- the woman rose from her chair.
“I’ll have Kihito-san bring your daughter,” she said, and -finally!- showed a genuine, friendly smile. “One moment, Mutou-san, in the meantime you can sign the last of the paperwork.”
Both Atemu and Yuugi thanked her before she left, and the former Pharaoh shoved the papers towards Yuugi.
“Here you are, aibou- you should do the official signing.”
He made a non-committal noise, but took the cap of the pen and started signing. “I almost feel like someone working for the government. Sign this, sign that…”
Atemu laughed softly. “You know why we do this all for, aibou…”
“I know, mou hitori no boku. I can’t wait!” Yuugi signed the papers quickly, looking at them briefly, even though these were the official papers that made him the parent of little Tzuziko- Tzuziko Aumr, as was stated everywhere. Apparently, none of the involved authorities had seen a problem with the two names, for which he was glad. “Mou hitori no boku, we…”
He was interrupted as the door opened, and two women stepped in- one holding the baby, a little girl with her sleek hair tied into a small, rather sloppy braid. She was wearing a light green dress which was clearly too big for her; the hem was torn here and there. She wore socks, no shoes, and a small bracelet on her left wrist.
“Say hello, Tzuziko-chan,” the co-worker said, bouncing the baby a little, as she had pressed her face against her chest, not looking up or around. “Your father is here..!”
“She’s beautiful,” Yuugi whispered, rising from his chair to take a better look. “Hello Tzuziko-chan!”
The little girl ducked away, all but trying to crawl into the chest of the co-worker. Her eyes were wide, and even though she didn’t show fear, her hand in the co-worker’s blouse tightened its grip.
“This was with her,” the other woman said, showing Atemu and Yuugi a rag doll that looked extremely dirty. “We usually recommend to let the child keep something familiar… it’s already hard enough for them.”
“Thank you, Tanaka-san, Kihito-san,” Atemu said, taking the rag doll from her. The caseworker went back to her desk, noticing the papers being signed and started to file them.
“Don’t forget, Mutou-san, that you can always call our agency in case you have questions, run into trouble or if something isn’t clear. We’re here to help you, and to help Tzuziko-chan, of course.”
“Of course,” Yuugi repeated, eyes focused on the baby. The co-worker leaned a little into him, handing the baby over.
She didn’t cry- just simply stared at him, with that strange, wide-eyed look. If Yuugi didn’t know any better, he thought that she was examining him, looking through him into the very core of his soul. He didn’t understand why she wasn’t crying- she had let go of the co-worker’s blouse without a problem, and her silence baffled him. Still, she was lying in his arms, a few seconds before he mimicked the posture of the co-worker, holding the girl on his arm, the other hand on her back, her face against his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispered to no one in particular. He knew Atemu was standing next to him, patiently waiting for his turn to hold her and he felt extremely selfish- but he couldn’t let go of her, not now. The co-worker smiled, while the caseworker expressed a little annoyance; she was probably thinking of all the other work that was waiting for her, and more than probably irritated that they hadn’t left her office yet.
“I’ll show you outside,” the co-worker finally said, turning around to hold the door open for them. Yuugi continued to carry Tzuziko while Atemu gathered the copies of their signed documents along with a few other informative booklets. It felt a little unreal as they were walking, leaving the building- if it wasn’t for the weight on his arm, Yuugi could barely believe he finally was going home with his daughter- their daughter.
Noticing that Yuugi didn’t want to give the baby to him yet, Atemu was the one to drive home, where Yusuke would be anxiously waiting for them with tea and cake to celebrate the homecoming of her granddaughter. Suguroku had insisted on getting out of bed and making his way to the living room, where he comfortably settled himself in the corner of the couch, a blanket draped over him.
Yuugi talked all the way home to the baby, who was still silent, turning her head around as to take in everything around her. She uttered a few nonsense sounds, every one of them with an underlying questioning tone.
“I think she’s asking where we’re going,” Yuugi said amusedly. “We’re going home, Tzuziko-chan... we’re going home. Your home, our home… and no one’s going to pass you around anymore.”
He grimaced slightly as he remembered what Atemu had told him about the baby’s past- so young, and already with a past… a past of being born to a mother who couldn’t take care of her, and instead of receiving help or support, was forced to give her baby to someone else in the family, who passed the baby to someone else and again and again, just as long as it took before finally someone decided to give her up for adoption. The unwillingness of people, family, to even help out one of their own, was astounding to Yuugi. He couldn’t imagine being alone like that, being without help, being at the end of his wits… and once again he praised himself lucky and fortunate.
“We are here,” Atemu announced, parking the car in the driveway. It wasn’t really smart of the both of them to let him drive- Atemu didn’t have a driver’s license and in the case of being pulled over, they could face a hefty fine. None of them were thinking about that at the moment, and Atemu helped Yuugi out of the car before locking it.
“Is there any chance I get to hold her today?” He asked, and Yuugi blushed furiously.
“I’m sorry, mou hitori no boku! I…”
“It is all right, aibou… you have the honour of carrying her over the threshold.”
“Thank you,” Yuugi beamed at him, reminding himself to make it up to him later… preferably at night. “I love you…”
“I love you too, aibou…”
Before they could kiss, Yusuke had already opened the door, enthusiastically waving.
“Don’t keep standing outside! Come in, come in!”
Yuugi threw Atemu an apologetic smile and moved towards the door, where his mother clasped her hands.
“Let me see her… let me see little Tzuziko-chan…”
“Kaa-san, let’s go inside,” Yuugi reminded her, as his mother started to touch the baby, who immediately ducked against Yuugi, her small fist tightening its grip on his shirt.
“Yes, yes, you’re right. I have tea and cake… oh, and grandfather is up, he’s waiting for you in the living room.”
“Jii-chan is up? The doctor told him to stay in bed..!”
“Please, Yuugi-kun.. it’s just for this occasion.”
He frowned, but refrained from commenting. His grandfather wasn’t invalid, but since the latest visit of the doctor Suguroku had stayed in bed, without as much as a single word of protest.
“Why don’t you go see him, aibou,” Atemu suggested, slipping into the house sandals. “He especially got up to see our daughter.”
“Yes yes,” Yuugi said, nodding with his head. “As long as he doesn’t overexert himself!”
With the baby on his arm, Yuugi quickly went to the living room, searching out his grandfather.
“Jii-chan, what are you doing up?”
The elderly man turned his head towards Yuugi, showing a similar apologetic smile. “I didn’t want to keep vegetating in my bed when my great granddaughter’s arriving,” he said.
“We would’ve come to your room to show her to you,” Yuugi said, but it didn’t sound chiding in the least.
Suguroku answered by simply holding up his hands and Yuugi leaned into him, handing Tzuziko over. The moment she left his arms, she started crying- her lip had been quivering as Yuugi had carried her through the house, and now she was wailing at full capacity.
“Oooh, you poor little girl,” Suguroku said while leaning comfortably back against the couch cushions. “You make much more noise than your father…”
Yuugi chuckled .“You should know, jii-chan!” He suppressed his thoughts about his own father immediately, like he usually did. He was sure that his grandfather had held him much more often when he was a baby then his own father; it never failed to make some bile rise up in his throat.
“It’s been a while,” Yusuke sighed while carrying the tray with tea cups into the living room. “It’s been a while since baby sounds and cries were heard in this house.”
“You’ll be hearing much more of it,” Yuugi remarked dryly. “She was so silent all the way home, but now.. it seems like some kind of dam has broken.”
Atemu leaned over Yuugi, placing his hands on his shoulders. “It has been a tiring day for her, aibou. So many impressions, so many changes of sceneries, so many other people surrounding her now.. that is hard to deal with, especially for an infant her age. She needs to rest.”
Yuugi tilted his head, looking back at Atemu. “May jii-chan hold her for a little longer, please?”
“Not too long,” Atemu answered, though Tzuziko seemed to calm down slightly; large tears dribbling over her cheeks. Suguroku rocked her a little, trying to hush her by keeping his voice calm and soothing. The only sounds were by him, Tzuziko still wailing, and Yuugi’s mother passing around the tea cups and cake.
“Atemu is right,” Suguroku said between the wailing sobs. “She has gone through a lot of impressions today, and every sound, every noise, is strange to her. It’s for the better if she’s brought to bed soon.”
“The tea will still be warm,” Yusuke said encouragingly, looking at the both of them with a warm, content smile on her face.
“All right,” Yuugi agreed, standing up again to take Tzuziko back from his grandfather. The girl kept crying, though substantially toned down as soon as Yuugi held her once again in his arms. “We’ll be back in a minute.”
“Take your time, dear,” Yusuke said while taking a sip from her tea; mirth and joy visible in her eyes. She knew it wouldn’t take the baby long to fall asleep, as exhausted as the little girl was, it would probably take Yuugi and Atemu much longer to tear themselves away from her. That’s why she didn’t comment when they both returned to the living room more than an hour later, and went back to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of tea.
---------------------
Another day of the week, another day at the university. Yuugi had been wearing a wide, goofy grin on his face for the past few weeks- being a father had really changed his demeanor! A –very high quality- picture of Tzuziko was stuck onto his notebook, so he could take a look at his daughter whenever he wanted to. Every day Atemu text messaged or called him as usual, but now always included an update about their baby girl. Something she did, something she achieved… it was great to see that Tzuziko was feeling at ease around them. She responded with her observing, examining eyes to everyone else that came to see her, but to the Mutou family members she lost her shyness pretty quickly, much to their relief. Tzuziko enjoyed the stories Suguroku told her- including making sounds and clapping with his hands, which she tried to imitate immediately-, and she liked being around Yusuke, who helped bathing and changing here. With every passing day, the little girl was coming more and more out of her shell, and Atemu was the first one to tell Yuugi proudly about her progress.
Everything went so well, and that was why Yuugi didn’t understand why he was feeling restless and rather moody today. Tzuziko was doing fine, she slept the whole night, though she was a difficult eater, a real nitpicker. Seeing his other self busy with her was… too cute for words. Yuugi usually snickered at the thought of the memory cards from their digital camera he still had to transfer to the computer- every card holding lots of pictures of the both of them busy with the baby. Atemu had started talking Arabic to her, even repeating the hieroglyphic alphabet when bringing her to bed, much to Yuugi’s hilarity.
“She is a genius, I am mere stimulating her development!” Atemu had told him, and Yuugi had countered that the girl needed to be exactly what she was – a baby, to be cuddled and caressed, not subjected to linguistics. It wasn’t important enough to get them into a fight or hold irritation over it- they were both so happy with Tzuziko that any quarrel over her upbringing was simply kissed away- for now.
It’s Thursday, he reminded himself. Thursdays were his favorite day of the week, except for the weekends of course. What’s your problem, Mutou? He’d been fiddling with his pen all morning, not paying attention to the -otherwise very interesting- lecture earlier, held by one of his favorite teachers. Frowning, he stared at his lunchbox as if the answer to his restlessness was inside the plastic object.
“I don’t think it did anything to you, Yuugi-kun, so why are you looking at it like you want to kill it?”
Yuugi almost gave a startled yelp, not having heard Otogi or his fan girls approach.
“Sorry about that, Otogi-kun!” He sheepishly apologized.
“That’s okay…” Otogi took his usual seat opposite of him, putting his lunch tray on the table. “Something bothering you, Yuugi-kun?”
“Mmm, not really,” Yuugi said, “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to concentrate all day and I just don’t feel… at ease. A little restless.”
“Everyone has an off-day once in a while,” Otogi shrugged, while picking up his chopsticks. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Yuugi answered him. He opened his lunchbox again to take out his sandwich, looking at it as if it were something vile. His appetite had taken an off-day as well apparently; he’d hardly had anything for breakfast either. Otogi didn’t keep up his usual banter with him, sensing that Yuugi really wasn’t in the mood for it.
Yuugi wanted to take a bite from his sandwich, but dropped it back into his lunchbox, poking at the food once again.
Otogi looked up from his bowl of ramen. “Yuugi-kun, are you sure you’re all right? I’ve never seen you like this before.”
Then it suddenly dawned to him. They were halfway through lunch period and Atemu hadn’t called or text messaged yet. Was this the first time that the former Pharaoh would forget about it? Otogi was about to comment, when Yuugi suddenly said: “I’m sorry for ruining lunch, Otogi-kun, but I’m going home.”
“You haven’t ruined anything,” Otogi reassured him, and considered suggesting that Yuugi couls send a text message or call first, if that was really bothering him. Yuugi started packing his bag, throwing his untouched sandwich back into the lunchbox, tossing it on top of the pile of books.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, “I’ll give you a call later, okay?”
“Sure, let me know what’s going on,” Otogi replied- he wasn’t sure if Atemu not calling Yuugi had upset him, and he doubted that only that could’ve made Yuugi feel so restless.
---------------
Strange how everything and every one around him was so calm, chattering about nonsensical things, discussing trivia, while he had the feeling that something wasn’t right, something was off. Yuugi wished for the subway to travel faster, though it was strictly on time as usual- every minute seemed to multiply indefintely in his head. He could’ve called home to ask if everyone was all right. He could’ve called… and somehow he couldn’t work up the courage to do so. Atemu would probably say that everything was all right, to keep him from worrying- but Atemu hadn’t called, not even send him a tiny text message, and it was disconcerting. He felt slight relief when the Game Shop came into sight- looking to the second floor, he spotted laundry hanging from the clothes lines. If there was laundry, everything was all right, right? It was an extremely silly thought, and still he clung to it as he crossed the street, all but running.
Yuugi wanted to enter through the Game Shop, and found the door closed- in the middle of the day, without as much as a sign? Befuddled, he went past the building to the front door of the house and opened it. He climbed up the stairs, feeling uncomfortable because of the odd silence. It wasn’t like there was always noise in the house, but this… this was definitely a different kind of silence.
Yuugi reached the kitchen, smelling coffee, and noticed his mother sitting at the kitchen table, looking pale, dabbing with a damp handkerchief at her puffy, red eyes. Atemu was behind her, hands on the chair, and he turned to look at Yuugi.
“Aibou…”
“Mou hitori no boku… what’s going on? Kaa-san?”
“Aibou, today the gods have called for jii-chan. He went with them, aibou.”
He dumped his backpack on the floor. “No… no..!”
Atemu let go of the chair, closing the distance between them and pulling Yuugi into an embrace.
“I am sorry, aibou. The gods have called for him in his sleep, and he has answered them.”
“That’s.. that can’t be,” Yuugi stammered, voice hitching. He’d assumed his grandfather had been still asleep when he was leaving for university early this morning. He heard his mother softly sobbing in the background, and he tightened his grip on Atemu.
“Where… where’s Tzuziko-chan?” he asked.
“Taking her afternoon nap. I decided it was the best for her to continue the same, daily routine as usual. She is too young to understand, aibou.”
“It’s not fair… why couldn’t he enjoy more of life? Why couldn’t he spend more time with his great granddaughter?”
“Your grandfather reached a very respectable age, aibou,” Atemu said, patting him on the back. “He has lived a great deal of time, bringing each and every one of us hope and joy, telling us about his adventures, taking care of us…”
“He brought you to me,” Yuugi started to cry, “if it weren’t for him going to Egypt and discover the Sennen Puzzle, we never would’ve been together..!”
“I know, aibou, I know… the loss is great,” Atemu said, holding Yuugi close, moving his hand in massaging circles on his back. “We will all miss him, but never forget him.”
“No, we’ll never forget…”
“Aibou…why don’t you lie down for a minute,” Atemu lowered his voice, speaking with a soothing tone. “The news is very hard to take.”
“I don’t want to be alone right now,” Yuugi bawled, gripping Atemu so tightly that a surprised gasp escaped him. His mother’s sobs were heard in the background, and he couldn’t stop crying.
“Jii-chan,” he said, “jii-chan…”
Atemu remained silent, keeping his hand on Yuugi’s back, burying his other hand in his hair, stroking the strands. They stood there for a long time, Yuugi not even knowing or realizing for how long, until Atemu brought him to the living room and sat him on the couch, tucking the ever-present blanket around him. Yuugi felt numb, muted, and he allowed himself to be tucked in as a baby, while tears kept falling, silently, expressing his grief.
-----------------------
At the day of the funeral, Yuugi couldn’t do anything but to force himself to stand, accepting the condolences of his friends. Everything went by as in a daze- he didn’t even realize Atemu was forcing him to eat, holding up the chopsticks with a little rice, pressing them against his lips. He barely noticed that he was sitting on the couch.
The house was a sea of flowers, sympathy cards were piled up on the coffee table, and friends and distant family kept calling, wishing them well, offering to help. Yuugi felt guilty leaving everything to Atemu, but he simply couldn’t put himself to do anything- not even looking at Tzuziko. The girl was most of the time crawling around, guarded by Yusuke who seemed paler than ever. Just like Yuugi, she had to pull out her handkerchief multiple times a day, dabbing at her eyes.
He wrung his hands, looking at nothing in particular. Almost every little thing in the house reminded him of his grandfather. He felt like he had so many more things to ask, that he couldn’t do anything without him… the store, what about money, the future? Was this his punishment for not paying enough attention to his grandfather? He’d stopped by every day at his room, and played Go with him, hadn’t he?
Yuugi suddenly jerked out of his thoughts when a weight settled on his lap, and he brought up his hands in surprise.
“Our girl misses her father,” Atemu said, voice neutral, with a hint of concern.
“Just as her father misses his grandfather,” Yuugi replied, taking Tzuziko’s little hands in his.
“I miss grandfather too, aibou,” Atemu said, placing his hand on his cheek. “I have lost a friend, someone I owe my life to as much as I do to you… it feels like something has been torn from me.”
“I’m sorry… I’m so selfish.” Yuugi bowed his head, frowning. He didn’t want to cry in front of his daughter, but it was difficult keeping it all back.
“You are not, aibou. You are the most selfless person I have ever met, do not be silly. Every one has his own way of dealing with grief, of mourning.. it is all right, aibou.”
“No, it’s not…” His voice was hitching again. “I thought he was going to live forever. I thought.. that everything would be all right as long as I didn’t mention it. I simply avoided everything, thinking everything would be fine!”
“Aibou…” Atemu didn’t understand where Yuugi’s outburst came from, and moved his arm around him, his other arm supporting Tzuziko on Yuugi’s lap.
“I’ll never… I’ll never do that again… whatever happens, I won’t ignore it and think it’ll pass… never again…”
Tears came flooding back as he sought comfort and solace in the other’s arms, still holding the baby’s hands, heaving a sigh of relief when feeling and sensing the familiar clothing, warmth and scent of his other self.
“Never leave me, mou hitori no boku…”
“I will never leave you, aibou.”
“I don’t know how you can stand living with me,” Yuugi said, not caring for his wet cheeks. “You always told me that I was strong.. and look at me, crying and sobbing!”
“Tears are never a sign of weakness, aibou. Your grandfather died, a very important person in your life… you are very much entitled to cry and mourn.”
“I’m not strong… look at me…I’m just a weak kid, who can’t even take care of himself.”
“I am looking at you, aibou,” Atemu softly said, leaning into him. “And what I see is a wonderful, loving person who is going through a rough time right now. It is all right to cry… you need time to deal with this. Death is a part of life, and something that awaits us all…”
“Don’t talk like that,” Yuugi quickly shook his head, feeling fresh tears well up.
“It is never the end, aibou,” Atemu continued, keeping his voice low. “You know what we Egyptians believe what happens after death, and it is something much more honourable and wonderful than we living people can imagine. Jii-chan is with the gods now, watching over us.”
“I know,” Yuugi said, “I know…”
He felt something pressing against his cheek, something small, and when he opened his eyes he saw it was Tzuziko, looking at him expectantly.
“Tzuziko-chan…”
“Remember the second name we gave her?” Atemu asked.
“Aumr,” Yuugi said without hesitation. Life.
“She needs you, aibou. Your mother needs you. I need you. I am not telling you to forget grandfather, or to deny your grief.. but do not forget about us. Life and death are very close… grandfather had a great life, and we should celebrate his adventures, instead of drowning in tears. We all have our own way of dealing with the joys and grieves of life and death… it is how fate has determined our lives, aibou.”
“You’re right…” Yuugi looked at Tzuziko, who kept her small hand against his cheek, and couldn’t help but smile, be it a little watery. “Thank you…”
Atemu pressed a kiss on his temple. “Try to take it a little easy the next few days, aibou. If you need anything, just ask me. Now rest a little..”
“Thank you,” Yuugi said again. “From now on, mou hitori no boku, I’ll never wait with talking to you, I’ll never wait with telling anyone anything…”
Atemu simply nodded, pressing another kiss to his temple. He shifted his arms around Tzuziko, lifting the girl up who looked curiously at her wet fingers.
“Rest, aibou,” he repeated, and Yuugi leaned back into the cushions, still feeling emotional, but a little more consoled.
----------------------
Yuugi stayed home from university, not feeling up to participate in the last few weeks of his semester. It would mean that he’d be missing his exams, and he talked to his study counsellor to make an exception for him. Yuugi already had enough credits to be admitted to the third year, but he didn’t want to get bad grades for his exams when it could be avoided. Fortunately, his counsellor showed understanding and allowed him to take his exams later- when he was able to concentrate on them. With the recent death of his grandfather, Yuugi had difficulties concentrating- difficulties accepting that Suguroku wasn’t in his life anymore. He wandered about the house, spending time with Tzuziko or doing chores, avoiding his grandfather’s room for now- Atemu had refused to close the door of his room, and Yuugi didn’t have the heart to do it himself. He sighed when thinking of his upcoming summer break- usually he helped his grandfather in the store, but now…
When returning from grocery shopping, Yuugi opened the door and all but stumbled inside, carrying two bags of the local supermarket. The first thing he saw was his mother standing in the hallway, just about to finish closing the buttons on her light coat, a suitcase next to her feet.
“Kaa-san?” Yuugi asked, almost panicked. “Where are you going to?”
Mutou Yusuke turned around and smiled over at him, her eyes warm, but still showing her own grief.
“Don’t worry, Yuugi-kun,” she answered him. “I’m just going away to my friend for a while. One, two weeks at most. It’s just… I’m sorry, Yuugi-kun. Too many memories, it’s growing over my head. I need a little time to get to myself and think...”
“I understand, kaa-san,” Yuugi said, heaving a sigh. He put his bags down -they were getting too heavy anyway- and walked over to his mother for a hug.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered while returning the hug. “You’re in the middle of dealing with this as well, and I feel like I’m chickening out on everyone.”
“No, you’re not, kaa-san,” he reassured her. “Mou hitori no boku already said that everyone needs to deal with grief on his or her own. If taking a little distance is helping you with that…”
“You’re both so very sweet,” she said, trying to suppress a sob in her voice. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you.. the both of you.”
“We’ll be waiting for you to come back, whenever you think the time is right again,” Yuugi said, respecting his mother’s decision even though it fell him hard.
“Thank you, Yuugi-kun. It’s a very difficult time for all of us.. but I’m not far out of sight, and I’ll call you every day.”
She kissed him on the cheek, bending through the knees to pick up her suitcase. “Before I forget, look after Atemu-san, all right? He hasn’t had a single bit of rest ever since… since it happened,” she said, voice thick with emotions. “I’ll thank him another time for taking care and arranging everything, but… please see to it that Atemu-san get some rest, will you?”
“Don’t worry kaa-san, I will,” Yuugi promised, before letting go of her . Yusuke lifted the suitcase, a mere second before a claxon sounded briefly.
“That’ll be my friend. I’ll call you as soon as I’m arrived, Yuugi-kun.”
He nodded, unable to say anything more. She threw him an apologetic look, pain reflecting in her eyes, as she finally turned around and opened the door.
It took him a few minutes to finally go up the stairs and go to the kitchen. Yuugi put the groceries away, opening drawers and cupboards, restocking the cereals, pancake mix, jam, biscuits.. it felt so mundane that he almost wanted to laugh. Yes, life was going on as usual, despite the loss, despite parted ways… he sighed again. He still had family and wonderful friends, and a very significant other to boot. How did he even dare to think of complaining? Yuugi glanced at the clock. Tzuziko’s nap time was almost over, maybe he could play with her a little? She seemed to be very fond of that brightly coloured block game, a present of Jounouchi, who had also promised to fix up any car Tzuziko was going to drive for free. There were some dirty dishes in the sink, and he considered for a brief moment of washing them, but decided against it. His mother’s words kept replaying in his mind, and as soon as he finished putting everything away, he decided to go to the store.
He knew Atemu was sure to have the baby alarm on, whenever he was in the store or in the house. After Yuugi had gone through the door separating the store from the house, he noticed how quiet it was in the store. There’d been a slight rush at the re-opening after Suguroku’s passing; a lot of regular customers had stopped by to offer their sympathies. Atemu was sitting on a stool behind the counter, working his way through some paper files; Yuugi spotted the baby alarm on the counter, at maximum volume.
“Mou hitori no boku…”
“Aibou, I did not hear you come back from your shopping. Did you manage to get everything?”
“Yes, I got everything,” Yuugi said and came to stand behind him. Atemu wasn’t looking at him, keeping his attention on the papers in front of him.
“Mou hitori no boku, did you cry?”
“Why do you ask, aibou?”
“Because you aren’t looking at me. You always look at me, and you always ask for others to look at you. You never avert your gaze unless you’re crying or have cried.”
“You know me well,” Atemu said, a soft smile on his lips, when he turned around to look Yuugi straight in the eyes.
“Mou hitori no boku… weren’t you the one telling me that tears were never a sign of weakness?” He touched the skin under Atemu’s red eyes, gently.
“I do not wish to burden you, aibou.”
“You never burden me,” Yuugi said, shaking his head. “I should’ve seen it myself that you were grieving too.. I’m so sorry, mou hitori no boku.”
“It is all right…”
“No it’s not, and you know it.” Yuugi grabbed Atemu’s hand. “Lean on me, mou hitori no boku. We’re going to sit down in the living room and you’re going to take a rest. This time, you’re going to be in my arms, not the other way around.”
“I love to, aibou, but the store..”
“… is closed for the afternoon. We’ve been open at the most irregular hours before, and the customers will understand, and if they don’t or can’t, they can go to Otogi-kun’s store to get their card fix.”
Atemu chuckled a little. “Aibou, that is not good for our profits…”
“Talking about profits, we need to discuss the store and its future as well, too,” Yuugi said, and quickly added: “But not now. At this moment.. we both have other things on our mind. Come, let’s go inside.”
-----------------------
The clock struck three; it was time to get little Tzuziko out of bed. Yuugi looked a bit worried at the clock. Atemu was resting against him, having fallen asleep the moment as they sat down, and Yuugi had been talking to him, sweet words of love and devotion, stroking his hair and studying him, taking in his features, declaring his love over and over to him again- it didn’t matter that Atemu couldn’t hear it, he knew the meaning behind Yuugi’s words, awake or not.
“Mou hitori no boku,” he whispered, “wake up… I need to get Tzuziko-chan out of her bed…” He didn’t receive an answer, as Atemu shifted around a little and snuggled even closer up to Yuugi.
“Mnn… mou hitori no boku…”
He glanced at the clock again, hoping that Tzuziko would at least sleep for another ten minutes, otherwise he would have to squirm and wriggle his way out of under Atemu who had curled up against him. Closing his eyes, he decided that he’d wait for ten more minutes only… and suddenly got the feeling that he was being watched. Yuugi opened his eyes and turned his head a little, spotting Tzuziko in front of the couch, on all fours. She had climbed out of her bed and down the stairs all on her own! Yuugi smiled brightly at the girl, complimenting her with her great achievement.
“Hey there, little one,” he said softly, as not to wake up Atemu. “Come sit with us, Tzuziko-chan?”
The girl looked up, eyes wide, with the usual half-frowned, examining expression on her face. She looked over at Atemu and back at Yuugi again, then to Atemu.
“Yami papa,” she suddenly said, her voice high-pitched and with a slight lisp, but Yuugi could make out the words.
Yuugi’s smile grew even wider. “Tzuziko-chan! You talked…! You came all the way down and you talked!”
“Hikari papa,” she said and showed a very content look before climbing up the couch, wanting to settle into Yuugi’s lap. He had to help her a little, leaning over Atemu who still was asleep, and managed to get her up the couch, holding her in his lap, her head resting against his chest. Holding one arm around the sleeping Atemu and his other around his daughter, Yuugi smiled down at the both of them, gratitude and love flowing through him. Truly the birth of a family.
Tzuziko craned her neck a little, eyes falling on him. “Hikari papa,” she repeated and put her head against his chest again, tiny fists curling in his shirt.
End of Part 1
no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 06:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 07:39 am (UTC)