Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Aftermath ❯ Aftermath ( Chapter 1 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Edmondia Dantes 
Introspection.
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 09.03.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 674 | Visits: 605 | Status: Completed
Introspection.
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 09.03.2004 | Pages: 1 | Words: 674 | Visits: 605 | Status: Completed
* * *
Aftermath
by Edmondia Dantes
* * *
They all remembered what happened in America.
It was already a week in the past, but as with all threats of death they'd encountered so far, the memory lingered, in the details.
Jounouchi's eyes were hungry, now, searching and impatient, as though he were straining for something he knew he would never reach. He said nothing, they said nothing, but they all knew what he was waiting for.
Still no word from her. Nobody knew, of course, exactly what had happened, but... He chewed on his pencils and he drummed his fingers and he tapped his feet, hyper-alert, tension strung through his body, and Anzu wondered how long it would take for his tightrope to snap.
Even Kaiba was treading carefully around him, and... that was just odd.
Not so odd. He'd been... clingy lately, for Kaiba, anyway. It was a little spooky, the way he looked at them now, but it was probably inevitable. Their lives kept getting more and more tangled together, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. Maybe he was even beginning to trust them a little - these days it seemed as if they were the only ones who weren't out to get him.
Idly, she wondered how Mokuba was doing. Nothing ever seemed to bother him, but... it hurt to see him cry. He was too young for this shit. ...sometimes, they were all too young for it. She didn't dare ask Kaiba, though - for the same reason no one spoke to Jounouchi about Mai. For one, the pain was too raw, for the other... it was too soon, they'd seen his weakness, and Kaiba showed throat to no one.
Otogi had been very quiet, and Honda had barely spoken three words to anyone.
But they all stuck very close to Yugi. It got to a point a few days past that he'd actually, very politely, kicked them all out. She'd been the last to go, the only one to give him a hug, and she'd never wanted to let go.
She had nearly started crying when he very gently pushed her away.
"I'm not going anywhere," he'd whispered, and she'd grabbed his hands away from the Puzzle and made him promise. He'd just smiled, and though she'd always known he was the wisest of them all, it made her heart hurt.
His hands were usually occupied, now, wrapped around the heavy chain or the glimmering gold of his treasure, and she had her own suspicions about why. Nobody talked about that, either, about how quiet and withdrawn Yugi was, and she'd only ever seen him hold the Puzzle like that once before - after he'd been rescued from a burning building with soot-stained gold clutched in his hands.
No one dared ask about the spirit. They hadn't seen him since the last day of the tournament - but he was there, she was certain, when the world was so quiet and Yugi's eyes were glazed over more often than normal.
...he'd been quiet, too, when it was only him, only his wild wild eyes and desperation, and those times when he wasn't quiet he'd been screaming.
She shivered at the memory, at his ruthlessness, at everything that she'd seen and feared. But she didn't dare talk about it. She didn't talk about anything except what she saw, except their own daily lives, and they didn't talk either because it was still too soon to recall without crying.
And nobody had dared try and contact Bakura, guilt and uncertainty keeping them quiet. No one had even seen him, and it was unusual and made her uneasy, but it got lost beneath the pain that still weighed them all down and drowned them in a stifling silence.
But they all remembered what happened in America.
Aftermath
by Edmondia Dantes
* * *
They all remembered what happened in America.
It was already a week in the past, but as with all threats of death they'd encountered so far, the memory lingered, in the details.
Jounouchi's eyes were hungry, now, searching and impatient, as though he were straining for something he knew he would never reach. He said nothing, they said nothing, but they all knew what he was waiting for.
Still no word from her. Nobody knew, of course, exactly what had happened, but... He chewed on his pencils and he drummed his fingers and he tapped his feet, hyper-alert, tension strung through his body, and Anzu wondered how long it would take for his tightrope to snap.
Even Kaiba was treading carefully around him, and... that was just odd.
Not so odd. He'd been... clingy lately, for Kaiba, anyway. It was a little spooky, the way he looked at them now, but it was probably inevitable. Their lives kept getting more and more tangled together, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. Maybe he was even beginning to trust them a little - these days it seemed as if they were the only ones who weren't out to get him.
Idly, she wondered how Mokuba was doing. Nothing ever seemed to bother him, but... it hurt to see him cry. He was too young for this shit. ...sometimes, they were all too young for it. She didn't dare ask Kaiba, though - for the same reason no one spoke to Jounouchi about Mai. For one, the pain was too raw, for the other... it was too soon, they'd seen his weakness, and Kaiba showed throat to no one.
Otogi had been very quiet, and Honda had barely spoken three words to anyone.
But they all stuck very close to Yugi. It got to a point a few days past that he'd actually, very politely, kicked them all out. She'd been the last to go, the only one to give him a hug, and she'd never wanted to let go.
She had nearly started crying when he very gently pushed her away.
"I'm not going anywhere," he'd whispered, and she'd grabbed his hands away from the Puzzle and made him promise. He'd just smiled, and though she'd always known he was the wisest of them all, it made her heart hurt.
His hands were usually occupied, now, wrapped around the heavy chain or the glimmering gold of his treasure, and she had her own suspicions about why. Nobody talked about that, either, about how quiet and withdrawn Yugi was, and she'd only ever seen him hold the Puzzle like that once before - after he'd been rescued from a burning building with soot-stained gold clutched in his hands.
No one dared ask about the spirit. They hadn't seen him since the last day of the tournament - but he was there, she was certain, when the world was so quiet and Yugi's eyes were glazed over more often than normal.
...he'd been quiet, too, when it was only him, only his wild wild eyes and desperation, and those times when he wasn't quiet he'd been screaming.
She shivered at the memory, at his ruthlessness, at everything that she'd seen and feared. But she didn't dare talk about it. She didn't talk about anything except what she saw, except their own daily lives, and they didn't talk either because it was still too soon to recall without crying.
And nobody had dared try and contact Bakura, guilt and uncertainty keeping them quiet. No one had even seen him, and it was unusual and made her uneasy, but it got lost beneath the pain that still weighed them all down and drowned them in a stifling silence.
But they all remembered what happened in America.