Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Differences Don't Matter ❯ Yami's Troubles ( Chapter 3 )

The nerve of him Yami growled to himself. He walking out of his father's study and stalking down the luxuriously decorated hallway towards the front door. He paused, however, at his favorite picture, the one he always treated as if it were really alive.

 

It was his mother's portrait; his real mother's and not the sorry excuse for a replacement his father married to. Natsune Motou was a beautiful woman with long dark hair and blonde bangs framing her beautiful and elegant face. Her soft crimson eyes she had given to Yami and he was grateful to have some a precious gift so he would always have something of his mother's. Although he hated how his eyes were sharp and seemed to glare at everything when his mother's was always the exact opposite. Yami loved her dearly even if he didn't know her very well. She died when he was only three from a lethal disease and, though she put up a good fight until the very end, it eventually took her.

 

There were very few things Yami could remember about his mother. He could recall the nights when she would sing a lullaby to put him to sleep and when she would play his childish games like peek-a-boo and tag. She was also the only person who had been able to go near him when he cried. He learned shortly after his third birthday that in order to be man he had to prevent himself from showing weakness in front of his others, that's what his father told him. Magically, his mother would always know when he was crying and come to him to calm him down. Every time he heard her sweet and soothing voice that reminded her of spring bells he would throw open the door, sometimes even forgetting that he locked it, and clung to her desperately. If it was anyone else he would scream and shout and he could vaguely remember making threats that if they bothered him he would get rid of them for good.

 

He was devastated and heart-broken when the doctor came to him and explained to him that his mother was sick and there wasn't any chance that she would be able to make it. Yami remembered with amazing preciseness that he had demanded the doctor make her better and make her not hurt anymore. Then he ran from the room and straight into his mother's bed where she held him tightly and told him everything would be okay. Days went by and nothing seemed to change and then weeks and months and Yami slowly saw the disease taking control of his mother. She became weaker and more frail as time passed by and soon she had to have someone feed her and help her with other simple tasks just to get through the day. Yami rarely left her side and when he did it was usually at her request so he wouldn't get sick himself.

 

The day that his mother died his father tried to keep him away. He woke late at night to the sounds of people rushing through the halls and talking loudly. Listening carefully enough he was able to hear his mother in a terrible coughing fit and he dashed from his bed. His father was standing in the doorway though when he grabbed him and told him not to go in. Yami screamed and hit ruthlessly and eventually ended up kicking his father in the legs and charging into the room before he could recover. The thing he saw was the one thing that was able to bring tears to him in front of other people besides his mother. His mother was coughing coarsely and was having a severe time breathing. When she finally managed to get a break she rested against the pillows and took notice of Yami quivering with fright in the middle of the room.

 

With thin and pale hands she gestured him over and he crawled into the spot beside her and held onto her tightly, afraid he would hurt her with her being so weak but still unable to lighten his hold on her. She whispered soothing words to him as he sobbed into her white dressing gown.

 

Hours later he was groggily woken up by the tug of someone trying to pry him away from his mother's cool body. He groaned and tried refusing but he was too emotionally drained to do much. He wrapped his arms around his father's neck and let him carry Yami back to his bedroom. He opened his eyes to see his mother and he felt his life shatter when he saw his mother being covered with a sheet by the doctor who'd been staying in the house. He recognized it from when his father told him what happened to his great-grandmother when she past away.

 

He shouted out that it couldn't be true and tried struggling out of his father's grasp. His father, for the first time, used his voice that he only used against the people that gave him more trouble than they were worth at work. Yami had instantly calmed down and it was only time he cried in front of his father.

 

The next couple of days Yami refused to come out of his room. He lay in his bed and wouldn't speak to anyone who came into his room to try getting him to eat. His mother was the only one who made sure he was never lonely and always had a smile on his face and that person was gone. There was nothing left for him. On the fourth day though his father came into his room and to that very day nobody ever found out what his father had said to Yami but whatever it was it made him come out of his room and act normally again. Or…as normal as people knew him now: he was cold towards everyone and never had a smile on his face.

 

When Yami turned six his father remarried to this awful woman that he couldn't stand and he refused to be kind to her at all. He hated how people always referred to her as his mother. The first time it was said was by some person who cleaned the house and was hired shortly after they were married and didn't know any better, but after hearing it constantly from people who knew the truth who completely exploded.

 

“She's not my mother,” he shouted, his voice carried throughout the entire house. “She can never be my mother. She's just a…she's just a big fake!” He ran out of the house and wasn't seen until the next day curled up in a stable covered with hay and tear stains.

 

“Master Yami.”

 

Yami was torn from his musings and looked expectantly at the oldest living thing since dinosaurs roamed the earth.

 

Speaking of the jerk that thinks of that witch as my mother Yami cursed inwardly. This was the one person he could never forgive. He was the one that knew the truth the best out of everyone that worked for his father and he was the one that called the woman married to his father `mother', the one that caused him to explode at everyone and had him grounded by his father for a week for `saying cruel things'.

 

“I apologize, sir, but you look troubled. Is there something I could get for you,” the old fossil asked.

 

“If I wanted something I would get it myself. I don't need other people caring for me.” He made to walk off and was about an arm's length from the door when the old man called him back.

 

“Master Yami, I can't help but think that I've done something to upset you. You used to always be such a kind boy before your mother died.” Yami's arms clenched tightly but he wouldn't let himself explode again. He promised himself he wouldn't let anyone get to him ever again. “I just wish you would go back to the way you used to before you became so cold. I'm sure your mother wouldn't want you to be acting like this if she were still alive.”

 

“Childish antics and little kid games; I think my father wouldn't approve very much.” Before the man could say anything else Yami walked out the door and slammed it to prove his point of wanting to be left alone.

 

Standing outside and leaning against the front door, Yami couldn't help but wonder why he did something as stupid as not going to his room rather than the outdoors.

 

Being out here only reminds me of that useless one-sided conversation my dad was going on about.

 

His father has been badgering him for a few months now to find himself a nice girl to settle down with, but there weren't any in the town that weren't groveling at his feet. If he were going to find a nice girl to be with he certainly wouldn't want her to be scared of him or try to change him to someone `more talkative', as his father would put it, and he certainly wouldn't want her throwing himself at his feet like some of the people in the city were making their slaves do when they felt like playing high and mighty.

 

I doubt there are any girls like that left in this world Yami thought as he watched the many girls that walked by him smile shyly and innocently at him, waving their petite hands as if they would break if they moved them too much. And I know father wouldn't approve if I were to bring a man home. I won't even begin to imagine that happening at all.

 

With a sigh he pushed away from the door and started walking through the people, who parted away from him as soon as they saw him coming. Some even brave enough to call out `good morning' or `how are you doing today'.

 

Yami paused in front of the bar and for the first time wished he were just a little bit older so he was allowed to go in there. If anybody even a quarter away from being sober noticed him in there he would get thrown out for sure, if the bartender didn't do it first if he asked for a drink. He was just about to move on when a small figure younger looking than him came out with a bad of trash and immediately froze at seeing him.

 

~~

 

“Yugi, could you take those drinks behind the counter to table three,” Makoto called from the back room where he was getting more alcohol.

 

“Yes, sir,” Yugi called back, picking up the tray and walking over to the mentioned table. After setting it down he wiped his moist brow and wiped his hands on his black apron that Makoto gave him to him just before the bar had been opened.

 

At first he thought it would be simple when only two or three people came in at a time, but then more people came in a before he realized it there was an entire crowd in there.

 

His shoulders ached and his legs thrummed from not having sat since the opening. He was sweaty from being in the humidity and it didn't matter how many times he kept wiping his hands on his apron, they kept getting moist all over again.

 

“Hey, Yugi, could you take his trash out. Then you can go get a drink of water and have a small break,” Makoto told him when he returned to the bar.

 

“Yes, sir,” Yugi nodded. He hauled up the bag with both hands and carefully made his way through the crowd of people. Taking one step outside and he froze at the sight in front of him.

 

It's the same guy as yesterday. The one who'd been staring at me from across the street.

 

Remembering himself he straightened up, ignoring the strain in his arms from holding the bad. “Can I help you,” he asked politely, just like Makoto told him to.

 

The handsome image in front him shook his head slowly, averting his eyes and Yugi felt himself fall. It wasn't the first time that day that someone refused to talk to him simply because he was an elf. Someone had actually protested taking a drink from `his kind'. Makoto had to remake the drink and serve it personally just because of it.

 

“Have a nice day then,” he bowed slightly and returned to taking out the garbage. He was about to go back outside when he saw the teen looking almost longingly at the door. Yugi wasn't sure how he could tell though when the person seemed to have an impassive expression on. “Are you sure I can't get you anything,” he asked again. “It looks like you could use something?”

 

It was something Yugi had seen Makoto do to a few of the people sitting at the bar who looked to have come alone. It turned out that the people who sat at the bar had problems and talked to the bartender to help sort them out.

 

“You could come inside and talk to Makoto. I'm sure he wouldn't mind as long as you didn't have anything to drink.”

 

Again all he received was a shake of the head and Yugi fell again.

 

He looks like he really wants something though.

 

Yugi turned and hurried back inside. Looking around he found a bottle in the freezer of the weakest thing the bar kept in it and snuck it into his apron. He headed towards the door quickly and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he saw the person heading down the street slowly, dragging his feet almost.

 

“Excuse me,” Yugi called quietly. He only hoped it was loud enough. When the person stopped he almost smiled, but hesitated when he didn't turn around. Unsure about why he felt the need to do this he walked slowly to where the teen was standing and held out the bottle. “It's the weakest thing the bar has so you won't have to worry about any headaches or passing out if you drink it slow enough,” he explained quietly.

 

At first Yugi wasn't sure if he was going to take it or not and right when he was about to pull away the man held out his hand and took it just as unsurely as Yugi felt. When it was safely in the other teen's hand Yugi bowed and hurried back to the bar for his break. Right he reached the door he stopped and smiled, a light blush covering his cheeks at the soft, yet audible, “Thank you.”

 

~~

 

Yami sat on a crate in a corner he usually hid in to keep away from people. He snapped open the bottle and tossed the cap off in some direction with a soft clank. Hesitating only for a second he pulled back the bottle and took a large chug.

 

The semi-thick liquid burned his tongue and throat at the initial touch and he gasped and the slight light-headedness he received from only from drink. Overcoming that one obstacle and he felt better already. Deciding to take the elf's advice to prevent a headache and coming up with excuses for it to his father he drank the rest of it slowly. When he was done he disposed of the bottle in a nearby and trash bin before walking home feeling considerably better.

 

He hadn't realized he'd been gone for so long until he looked up and noticed the sky was much darker. Stopping in front of the bar and hearing loud talking and laughter from inside he felt a rare twitch to the sides of his mouth.

 

Thinking quickly, he turned around and ran back for the bottle.

 

~~

 

Yugi stepped outside for a quick breath. There was only a few hours left until the bar was closed and he knew he was going to sleep well that night.

 

I'm sure this is something I'll get used to given time Yugi thought tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

 

He was just about to go back inside when a light glitter caught his eyes. Looking down he saw an empty bottle and a few coins lying beside it. He smiled and gathered both items up, sticking the coins into his pocket before heading back inside.