Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Differences Don't Matter ❯ A New Home ( Chapter 9 )

A knock on Yami's door echoed throughout the large room and caused the crimson-eyed teen to sigh with frustration. Dropping his feather-ended pen and pushing his chair from his desk, he reluctantly went to answer it. The large, wooden door creaked open and one of the servants bowed lowly at the sight of him, a light blush staining her cheeks though her long auburn braid blocked it from the young lord's sight.

 

“Master Yami,” she addressed respectively, “your father wishes to speak with you in his study.”

 

Yami sneered at the request and turned away from her. It might've been a couple weeks after his and his father's argument about the importance of the coming war, but he still found he couldn't forgive his father for not trying to at least see his point of view. It wasn't like he was being harsh either. His father refused to even say “good morning” to him or anything small like that since that day. At least Yami acknowledged his presence rather than pretending like he wasn't alive.

 

Lines appeared on his forehead as he tried to think of why his father suddenly wanted to speak with him. It was so abrupt that even Yami hadn't seen it coming. He expected his father to carry on with his current behavior for at least a month before he gave in just like the way past arguments between them always went. It was like that since his father went to his room to straighten him out since his mother's death.

 

“Master Yami,” the maid questioned, looking at him curiously as she straightened up.

 

The teen sighed and went back to his desk, clutching the edge of it tightly to keep his temper in check. It wouldn't do to go scaring the house staff even if most of them did annoy him. “Tell him that if he wants to speak with me he can fetch me himself. I'm not some obedient dog who comes at his call,” he growled.

 

Flinching at the harsh tone, the girl nodded a frenzied bow and hurried away down the hall, not bothering to close the door behind her.

 

A pang of guilt filtered through Yami at scaring the poor girl, but there was nothing to change what he did now and he would simply have to wait until he saw her again to apologize. After all, when maids didn't want to be found it was fairly difficult to find them, especially in such a large house as the one he lived in.

 

Yami was just about to sit back down and continue with his work when another echo sounded through his ears and he was sure the rest of the city could hear it too. He didn't even bother sitting down because he knew the end result of this particular echo would result in him probably storming out of the house as usual, or at least leaving the room.

 

At this rate he thought tiredly it's going to take forever to get this done.

 

“Yami,” a voice grounded through clenched teeth said by his door.

 

The teen smirked, not going through the trouble of turning around. “I'm surprised, father. I thought you'd have to send that poor girl at least another three times before he finally came to see me yourself. You must be unwell with the stress of a possible war rising on your shoulders as well as every other important man's in this city.”

 

There was no response and Yami turned around curiously, amazed to see his old man was actually trying to repress his anger. I guess for that I can try getting along just this once.

 

“Was there something you needed, father,” he asked politely, leaving out the point he usually would've made of being busy.

 

Shock appeared on the older man's face, though he collected himself quickly and stood up straighten in front of his son to appear taller. “I came to the conclusion that the staff is a bit overworked these days so I gave them the night off.”

 

A sick churning sensation filtered through Yami and settled in his stomach and he quickly covered his mouth, but made it look like a slight cough. “You…aren't going to cook dinner, are you,” he asked desperately, not even bothering to hide how much the idea sickened him, literally.

 

The man chuckled and quickly shook his head. “No, of course not, Yami; I wouldn't dream of it. I think food poisoning you once in your life is enough incentive for me never to take up cookery as a hobby.” Yami sighed with relief and his stomach calmed down with the possible threat of poisoning out of the way. “I was thinking of going out to eat. We haven't gone out for a while and I thought it might be a good experience.”

 

Yami's eyes narrowed. “This isn't your some brilliant plot of yours to try and get me to another meeting with the mayor and some other men again, is it,” he accused, remembering a couple years ago when the man in front of him wanted to have a “father and son day” and it ended up being a ploy to get Yami to go to the meeting.

 

Motou Senior had to mull that one over in his head before he realized where his son had come up with the thought though and he quickly shook his head, hands rising in surrender. “I promise. This is nothing like that. I merely want to go out to a restaurant to give the staff the night off and I would like you to join me.”

 

The crimson-eyed teen couldn't think of much of a reason to refuse since his father seemed honest enough about the outing so he agreed and almost felt his heart jump when his father threw his arms around his shoulders in a tight and unfamiliar hug.

 

“I know just the place I would like to go to,” his father announced after finally releasing him from the embrace. “Be ready to go by six,” was the last thing he said before closing the door behind him.

 

That…was the second strangest thing I've ever lived through Yami decided before sitting back down at his desk. He couldn't recall what the weirdest thing was, but there was something in the back of his mind that told him there was at least one thing that topped what his father had just done to him.

 

“I have a couple hours before I need to get ready,” he decided, glancing at the time his clock read, placed on his bookcase. It was a one of a kind clock that his mother had designed and sent out to a specialist to be made and one of the few things Yami still had left of her. It was made of cherry-stained wood and polished to perfection (the crimson-eyed teen made sure it stayed that way) and around the face of the clock were two carved dragons flying around it, fire breathing. When he much younger his mother would indulge him about stories with dragons in them and Yami had been fascinated by each one. Now that he was older and not as naïve he didn't believe in the fairytales like he used to and even gone as far as to dispose of each fairytale item he had in his room. The clock had been the only exception.

 

~~

 

Orochi bustled into the kitchen in a panicked rush. “He's coming, he's coming,” he repeated maniacally, waving his hands around nervously.

 

“Um…sir,” Scott inquired, the only one apparently brave enough to question the restaurant's owner as to what he was talking about. “Who's coming?”

 

“The Motous,” he shouted. “They're coming and I want the entire restaurant to be spotless!”

 

One of the female elves moved forward, “But, sir, we just cleaned the whole place this morning. Did you forget that you opened up three hours later than usual because of it?”

 

“It needs to be cleaned again!”

 

Her violet eyes widened as the unusual behavior of the owner and nodded. “Of course, sir, I'll get right on it.”

 

“Yugi,” Orochi yelled loudly, looking for the only employee that was absent during such an important time.

 

The impassive elf stepped into view and Orochi had to pause at the unhealthy pale in Yugi's face. The thought of the Motous was the only thing that made him keep from telling Yugi to take the rest of the day off. He was the only one he could trust to make sure everything was as dust-free and cleaned as entirely possible nowadays simply because the elf was so tuned out all the time.

 

“Scott, make a bowl of the special today while I speak with Yugi.” He didn't bother to see if he was heard before leading the elf away to a deserted corner of the kitchen. Orochi told Yugi, hoping it would get through to him, that he wanted him to go over everything the elves do and make sure that it's two-hundred percent clean.

 

The young chef appeared then a handed the steaming bowl to Orochi, who thanked him graciously before sending him away. He sat Yugi down at a table and placed the bowl in front of him.

 

“Now, Yugi,” he said, keeping his voice in check so he didn't sound overly worried, “just this once of all times, would you please eat? It's entirely unhealthy what you're doing to yourself even if you are an elf and have a longer lifespan than humans do. This is an important night and I want you at your best because I know you have the manners to impress the gentlemen coming. I know you won't disappoint me, Yugi.”

 

Five minutes later, Orochi peaked around the corner and tears burned at his eyes when he saw the elf hesitantly and shakily pick up a spoon and start eating the warm broth. He was excited by the event that he put his head chef in charge and hurried across the street to the bar.

 

Makoto looked up when the door opened and was surprised to see, of all people, the owner of the restaurant across the street watching him with a knowing smile and teary eyes. Nobody understood the nod the owner gave to the bartender nor did they understand when tears started streaming down Makoto's eyes as soon as Orochi left.

 

~~

 

Yami opened the door when a rap sounded through his room. A maid with curly red hair pulled back into pigtails bowed as soon as she saw him.

 

“Your father asked me to remind you about getting ready for your evening,” she said quietly, knowing about the outburst he had with the previous woman he had sending a message about his father.

 

“You may inform him I had just gotten out of the shower,” he told her and raised an eyebrow when her eyes glanced up and a dark blush rose on her cheeks as she saw him clad in nothing but a fluffy white towel around his waist and beads of water dripping from his hair to his shoulders. He coughed slightly and watched as she jumped.

 

“Y-yes sir, right away,” and she scurried away down the hall.

 

Yami merely rolled his eyes and closed the door, interested in how this evening would unfold with the anxious feeling churning around in his stomach.

 

~~

 

As soon as Yami stepped in the door he was reminded why he didn't like going anywhere where he had to dress up for the occasion. The walk there had been a nightmare with all the ladies swooning over for him and his father. The women in the restaurant were no different and he had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

 

“Hold your head high, Yami. If you aren't going to accept the girls I send for than you can pick one of these lovely ones. I think going out a night will be a very good experience indeed.” The teen rolled his eyes and allowed one of the elves to remove his jacket for him.

 

“Right this way, sirs,” a dark blue-haired elf with cerulean eyes said, leading the way towards the far corner area of the building, still not understanding why Orochi had specifically wanted the so-called important Motous to be served by a waiter who didn't speak. However, he was pleased that he was asked to lead them there so he wasn't going to argue like everyone else had.

 

~~

 

Orochi was in another panic as soon as he realized the Motous had arrived. Not because the restaurant wasn't clean enough, but because the elf who was to serve them couldn't be found. As a last result he snuck through the door leading to the elves' quarters and a ball formed in his throat when he saw the missing elf asleep in his cot.

 

That soup might've been the thing to do it, but couldn't it have waited until another, less important time to make him sleep? He sighed and knew he'd rather have Yugi sleep than work when the elf rarely got any rest. Giving in to the inevitable, he went back out and searched around for someone else. I'll guess she'll have to do he thought he spotted one of his human servants just getting off her shift.

 

“Rebecca,” he said urgently, catching her before she could leave.

 

“Yes, Mr. Orochi,” she asked curiously.

 

“Something's come up and Yugi won't be able to work his tables. Do you think you'll be able to take over for him? At least until the Motous leave,” he begged, biting his lip unprofessionally.

 

“The Motous,” she asked with surprise. “Of course, sir, whatever you want.” She smiled sweetly and brushed her blonde strands from her shoulder before skipping energetically to the elf's section.

 

~~

 

Yugi startled awake and an itch at the back of his mind told him he was supposed to be doing something.

 

“Oh, good, you're awake,” Orochi said, peaking his head in through the door. “Are you awake enough to do a few things?”

 

Violent eyes widened and he jumped up, tripping over himself and collapsing into a tangled heap of limps and blankets. He glanced up at Orochi and saw the surprised expression on the owner's face.

 

“My, Yugi, I don't think I've ever seen you behave like that. Nothing to worry about though; I didn't want to wake you so Rebecca is serving the Motous in your place.”

 

The elf looked down, eyes dull more than usual and Orochi knelt down next to him. “I'm glad you slept and I'm proud of you for eating so don't regret what you've been needing since you came here. You look healthier already,” he smiled.

 

“Now, there's some bread baskets in the kitchen. Could you tidy up a bit and then take them to take them to tables three, seven, and eight in corner one, please?”

 

Yugi gave a slight bob of his head and went to wash his face.

 

~~

 

The rest of the night was uneventful and the excitement over the Motous presence died down after everyone returned to their meals with low murmurs of conversations.

 

Yami, however, had just about enough. The waitress assigned to them was a big flirt even when she was behaving like a waitress and he found no small amount of annoyance in the action. He dropped his napkin onto the table and excused himself to the restroom to call down before he had an outburst and embarrassed himself in front of everyone.

 

During that time Yugi delivered some more bread to the Motou table and didn't notice when he'd almost been called Yami by the man sitting there.

 

“Oh my, my sincerest apologies,” the man had said, but Yugi didn't understand what he was talking about so he just nodded and left to go back to the kitchen.

 

When Yami returned his father started talking about one of the waiters, but the teen tuned him out. He was fed up with hearing his father talk. He wanted to go home and lock himself in his room and pretend this awful night never happened. Why did I ever agree to something as ridiculous as this? It always ends up the same and then I can't stand being around my father even more.

 

“I'm going to freshen up a bit,” his father announced, sliding out of his chair.

 

Yami made a noncommittal sounds to show he heard and started picking at his steak again, not getting an appetite. What about that anxious feeling from earlier. I know it wasn't about spending time with my father Yami rolled his eyes at the thought. So what was it that I wanted to come here for that made me look as nice as possible?

 

A sudden crash and a loud shout broke Yami from his musing and a dread filled him at the familiar sound of his father yelling, though it was usually directed at him. He jumped from his seat and hurried around the corner to find his father showered with spaghetti and a steaming red sauce, his good suit stained, and a broken plate at his feet.

 

“Sir, please, forgive him,” a young chef tried calming his father. “I know he didn't mean it and you came around the corner so suddenly. It would've startled anyone.”

 

“Look at my suit, you filth,” his father shouted to someone huddled just out of Yami's sight, ignoring the people around him trying to clean him off. “Well, aren't you going to say anything!”

 

“Please, Lord Motou, he doesn't speak,” Scott reasoned.

 

“And you allow such a creature to work in this place when he can't even try to explain himself,” his father questioned loudly.

 

And I was the one afraid of making a scene earlier Yami asked himself. His eyes widened. Wait a minute… “creature?” An elf? He stepped around the corner past his father and his heart jumped for real that time. Yugi! The anxiety that had been with him all evening flew out of him and was replaced with an endless amount of relief at the sight of the violet-eyed teen sitting in the corner.

 

“Yami, stay away from him!”

 

The teen ignored him and knelt in front of the cowering elf. He'd seen Yugi scared before, plenty of times, but nothing as bad as this. His eyes were dull and his cheeks were sunken slightly, his skin as pale as the moon.

 

Anger stirred inside him at the uncharacteristic Yugi and he looked up at the arrival of Orochi with heated eyes. “What happened to him,” he demanded.

 

“We-well…I…” Orochi stuttered, unable to answer what the Motou Junior was asking.

 

“Tell me! He wasn't like this when I saw him last! Why did that bastard Shigure get rid of him,” he shouted.

 

“Yami, language,” his father ridiculed, still snarling at the elf.

 

The teen ignored him, staring up at the owner and then his gaze settled at the other waiters watching with interest behind him. The smug looks in those of the elves' was enough to get him more steamed and he took a deep breath to try calming himself. Doesn't Orochi even know what's going on? Or…or is it that he can't do anything about it? I know he wouldn't let anyone be bullied without first trying to do anything about it so Yugi wouldn't be any different.

 

Light fingers on his arm turned his attention back the quivering elf huddled against the wall.

 

“Yugi…” he whispered, unsure of what to say.

 

“He doesn't talk,” a chef said, kneeling beside him. “He's been here for a while and he's never said a word and the only reaction we can get out of is when someone is getting yelled at and he turns into this, but…but this is the worst I've ever seen him.”

 

Yami nodded and took the elf's hand gently. “It's okay, Yugi. I'm here now. I'll take of you just like before.”

 

“What's that,” he father yelled as soon as Yami finished speaking and the teen wanted to curse loudly when Yugi withdrew his hand and huddled closer into the corner. He stood and turned on the adult.

 

“Won't you shut up for once,” he ground out, forcing his voice not to rise as well. “Can't you see that he's scared out of his mind because of you?”

 

“That runt deserves it for what he did!”

 

Yami glared at him, but knew nothing he said would make any difference so he kept his mouth shut, turning his attention back to Yugi.

 

“Yugi?” The elf didn't look up. “Yugi, do you know who I am?”

 

Violet eyes looked eyes looked up slowly and he shivered, nodding.

 

“I'm glad,” he said softly. He held out his hand. “I'm taking you away now, Yugi. I'll make sure you never get hurt again.”

 

“That's out of the question, Yami! I refuse to allow that…that thing into our house!”

 

“This thing is a living creature in desperate need of help and it's obvious he isn't going to get here when his own kind is treating him so cruelly,” Yami pointed his glare at the elves still behind Orochi.

 

The owner looked back at then, not sure what to make of the newest revelation. The ashamed looks on the elves' faces was enough for him. He knelt next to Yami. “I honestly don't know what happened with him at Shigure's, but he was burnt pretty bad with an even worse excuse for what happened to him. He hasn't spoken at all though and now I know why he hasn't tried opening up either if it's true the elves have been treating him pretty bad. If he knows you and trusts you though, I'll give him to you.”

 

“This is preposterous,” his father shouted, storming out of the restaurant and throwing his hands up in the air. Everyone was quick to move out of his way.

“Thank you, sir,” Yami said.

 

“Yugi,” Orochi called softly. “Everything's going to be just fine now, I promise. I told Makota I would help you and I know this is the best thing for you.”

 

The elf stared at him, eyes as dull as ever and face just as expressionless. Orochi sighed with defeat and removed the bracelet from his thin wrist. “I wish I could've helped you more.”

 

“I'll take good care of him,” Yami promised. He helped Yugi up to his feet and half carried him out the door.

 

The walk home that night was easier for him. His father's anger had forced everyone back into the their homes for the night, not wanting to get a lash from his quick tongue.