Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Fly Away Home ❯ The Meaning of Words ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: Plain and simple. I do not own Yugioh.

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Fly Away Home

By Ocean

Chapter Two: The Meaning of Words

It was a long and tedious assignment, one that Yuugi hated with a passion. He would find any excuse not to do it, on occasion causing his grandfather great concern. This time Yuugi had volunteered to stock the latest shipment of cards to the Kame Game Shop alphabetically: by date, by level, by type, and by color. It was the final act of procrastination that Sugoroku was willing to tolerate.

"This is ridiculous, Yuugi! Just go and unpack and be done with it!"

Yuugi had immediately scampered into his room at his grandfather's rather persuasive suggestion. He now found himself sitting in the middle of his floor on a particularly bland gray carpet that did not extend to the boundaries of his room. To his left was a walk-in closet that currently overflowed onto the floor, much to Sugoroku's disdain. He believed highly in the principles of feng-shuy, and had arranged the furniture in his home accordingly.

It was a practice that had escaped Yuugi. Where Sugoroku believed that neatness and simplicity in the home was able to implement peacefulness and tranquility in life, Yuugi believed in keeping his life and his mess separate. Hopefully one did not reflect the other. Otherwise, Yuugi would forever trip and stumble and search his way through life.

There was one place that Yuugi kept in crisp, pristine order. His bedroom housed a skylight. The one square patch of sunlight that this opening allowed into his room was Yuugi's favorite place in the entire house. He had placed his easel on the edge of the sacred patch, allowing him to set his chair directly underneath the skylight. The reflection of the glass produced an almost ethereal glow to any object touched by the light of the sun and stars that dared to pass through.

Sugoroku had spotted Yuugi once, late at night, in such a scene. Another letter from his parents had arrived that day. There was no mention of the boy's birthday that had passed a week before. It was not uncommon, but this particular lack of acknowledgement had deeply hurt Yuugi. The birthday had been his eighteenth, and Yuugi had held some small hope that his parents would at the very least make a gesture on the special day. But it was simply not in his parents' nature to do so.

Having woken earlier to a bout of indigestion, Sugoroku was making his way down the hall towards the kitchen when he passed Yuugi's room. He had peered through the half open door, expecting to find his grandson asleep in his bed. Instead, Yuugi had been sitting at his easel, back to the door, paintbrush in hand and starring up at the stars through his skylight. The moon had been full that night and, in combination with the cloudless sky, had been able to shine its otherworldly light onto Sugoroku's grandson, bathing him in a silver shroud.

The next morning Yuugi had shown his composition to his grandfather. His painting had developed a new meaning that night, becoming a facet for releasing the pent up emotions that Yuugi was unwilling to express. The artwork of Motou Yuugi had forever changed, taking on a more somber and macabre feeling than his earlier and more cheerful works.

Having finished the unimpressive task of putting his dirty clothes in the laundry, Yuugi was now going through his art supplies. A handful of paint tubes, a few brushes... a few brushes that would never be used again. He really should have packed them better. Some charcoal he would use when it simply was not possible to break out his paints and set up shop. His dog-eared notebook...

Yuugi paused as he brought the notebook into his lap, leaning back against his bed and flipping through the pages fondly. Here contained his ideas, his dreams, and every thought that was eventually transferred onto his canvas. A dairy, of sorts. Only with pictures, not words.

He paused as he came across a particular drawing. The shading was horrible, the lines rough and uneven. Finger smudges surrounded the image on the page. The picture was nothing special, just an outline, really. A teenager, perhaps, with hair reminiscent to Yuugi's own, sitting in a window, his arms crossed gently over his knees, his head bowed. Though there was no detail of the face, it was easy to recognize the strong and sharp features it held. Through the window a vast expansive desert dominated the view.

Yuugi wasn't sure what had possessed him to draw the picture. One afternoon while sitting at his desk reviewing the game shop's monthly finances, his hand had dropped his pencil, picked up the charcoal, and twenty minutes later the picture was finished. He had never shown the image to anyone. For some reason, the thought made him sick, as though he would be exposing his deepest secrete. Exposing himself, as it were. He couldn't explain the feeling, only that is was there.

A small smile found his lips as Yuugi traced his finger lightly over the man's face, his mind trying to imagine its details. He wondered why he hadn't added anymore detail. Yet every time he tried, something from within would scream at him to stop, not to ruin the image he already had. And so, Yuugi would lay down his charcoal and let the picture rest.

"So, what puts the smile on your face? I haven't seen it there in awhile."

Yuugi hastily covered his drawing with an arm, looking up at his grandfather with wide eyes. "Ji-chan!" he scolded. And then, after a moment's thought, "Is it too late to put that lock on my door that you offered?"

"I made that offer when you were twelve, Yuugi," Sugoroku chuckled.

Yuugi discreetly folded the cover of his notebook and placed it under his bed. "Is that a `yes'?" he asked as he turned back to his grandfather.

Sugoroku didn't respond, shaking his head as he turned into the hallway. "Anzu's here. She's old enough, maybe you can get her to do it for you."

Yuugi stuck is tongue out at Sugoroku's retreating form, satisfying his urge to get in the last word. Standing, he gathered the art supplies he had been rummaging through and continued putting them in their place. After the surprise attack by that reporter two days prior, Yuugi had received an invitation from Domino Hospital, inviting him to come and talk with the terminally ill children that resided within its walls. Although unsure what he could offer, Yuugi had immediately agreed. He was scheduled to arrive later that afternoon.

Hearing the rapid sounds of feet hitting the floor, Yuugi turned to his door to greet his newest visitor. Anzu bounded into the room, the fact that she was excited quite evident. She smiled brightly and embraced Yuugi. Laughing slightly, he returned the hug and asked what all the excitement was about.

"I've got the most wonderful news!" Anzu exclaimed as she pulled Yuugi down with her to sit on the floor. "I just got off the phone with Michi, well, not `just,' really this morning, but it feels like-"

"Anzu, just tell me already!" Yuugi sniggered.

"Oh right. Gomen." Anzu took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. "As you know, these flights between New York and Domino have been trying for both of us. And you remember how a few months ago I had asked Michi-kun to keep her eye out for apartments for us? So we wouldn't have to burden her every time we were in town?"

Yuugi felt a knot begin to slowly form itself in his stomach as he listened to Anzu's hopeful tone of voice. He remembered the incident well. He had been uneasy the first time Anzu had mentioned renting an apartment permanently in New York. She had said that she was tired of imposing on her friend, and wouldn't it be great if they could have a little place of their own? A home away from home.

A home. In both New York and Domino. Yuugi hadn't wanted to be suspicious of the possible hidden intent behind the thought. That perhaps Anzu was trying to get him accustomed to thinking of New York as home, a permanent place of residence. So he had agreed to have Michi look around for them, hoping, perhaps childishly, that she would be unlucky in her search and the subject would fade away into blissful oblivion.

"Well," Anzu nearly purred, "she has done much better than finding some stinky old apartment. She's found us a house!" Anzu squealed at her news, as she no doubt had when she had first heard it that morning. Turning bright and expectant eyes onto Yuugi, Anzu's smile faltered for the first time that day. "Yuugi... are you alright?"

"House?" A house? Michi had actually found a house? The knot in Yuugi's stomach had been replaced with a feeling of queasiness that nearly sent him racing towards the bathroom. He tried to swallow, but it felt as though his tongue had swollen to the size of a melon. "She found a h-house?"

Anzu's smile vanished completely at Yuugi's stutter. It was something he did only in moments of great stress, a habit from childhood. She had not anticipated this to be one of those moments. "You're not happy about this." It was not a question. Anzu sat back against Yuugi's bed and clamped a hand over her eyes. Her body went rigid as she fought with her emotions, and before Yuugi had a chance to respond, she exploded.

"Don't you realize what an opportunity this is?! You can't expect to get anywhere if you're unwilling to move! Do you expect me to stay here my whole life?!" Anzu was breathing hard, relief and guilt flowing through her. She herself had not expected such an outburst, but now that it had come, she was glad it had. This was an issue that she and Yuugi needed to settle.

Yuugi stared at her for a moment, his jaw hanging slightly ajar. Once the initial shock faded, he closed his mouth and straightened his shoulders. Looking Anzu straight in the eye, he responded to her question.

"Of course not, Anzu. I don't want you to do anything that would make you unhappy. And I agree this is a wonderful opportunity for you. You're chances at a career would improve greatly if you lived in New York year round." Yuugi sighed at Anzu's hopeful expression. "But I don't know how many times I can tell you that New York isn't for me."

"But couldn't you just try it? Just for a little while?" Anzu pleaded. She brought herself to her knees in front of Yuugi, grasping his hands in her own. "I'm so happy there. And I know you can be too."

Yuugi leaned forward, resting his forehead against their clasped hands. "You're not listening to me," he said quietly. Sighing, he brought himself to a sitting position, and then untangled his hands from hers. He had finally come to a conclusion, the only one that would result with both of them being happy. Not at first, perhaps, but happiness would find them.

"Anzu, you know I care deeply for you." Yuugi waited for her to acknowledge the sentiment. "I want you to go."

Anzu watched him imploringly, willing him to continue. But the words never came. It didn't matter how much she wanted to hear Yuugi say that he would come with her. Deep down, she knew she would never hear those words. Anzu was really beginning to loathe words altogether. Trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall, she nodded her head minutely.

"I'm sorry," Anzu whispered as she leaned forward and kissed Yuugi on his cheek. She stood and made her way to the door before pausing and turning back to Yuugi. "You know, it's funny. As sorry as I am that this happened, I always expected this to hurt more than it does."

"Yeah, me too," Yuugi said with a soft smile. "So what does that mean?" With a final look, he watched as Anzu walked out of his room and towards her new life in New York. She would be happy there, of this he had no doubt. The strain put on their relationship had simply been too great. This really was for the best, for both of them.

Lifting his head, Yuugi looked at his grandfather who now stood in his doorway, not bothering to wipe away the tear that trailed down his face. That doorway of his had been a busy place that afternoon.

"Are you going to be okay, Yuugi?" Sugoroku asked quietly as he made his way over to sit above Yuugi on his bed.

Yuugi gave the question some serious thought, lowering his eyes to the floor. His eyes found his notebook, still hiding under his bed where he had placed it earlier. At some point during Anzu's visit, the cover had been turned, as well as many pages. The image of his mysterious stranger lay partially hidden by the shadows of his bed. Smiling at the sight, he turned to his grandfather.

"Hai, Ji-chan. I think will." With that said, he joined his grandfather on his bed and the two shared a long embrace.

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Her name had been the punch line of many jokes throughout her life. It had proven to be quite the icebreaker at many of her parents' royal parties. Trying to impress the most recently appointed director of the most acclaimed hospital in the most favorable district, Miss Takenouchi would be dressed as a doll and presented to the room with the admirable introduction of:

"Here she is! Here is our little Umeko!"

At which point the room would be filled with amused laughter because wasn't it cute that a family engrossed in the medical profession had named their daughter `patient.' How charming. How clever. How creative.

Umeko failed to see the humor. No one had considered that perhaps her name was descriptive of her personality instead of a not so cleverly disguised pun created by her parents. So Umeko decided that she would prove to the world the true meaning of her name.

Takenouchi Umeko became the head of the children's nursing department at Domino Hospital. So there.

Umeko had spent the day decorating the east wing of the hospital in preparation for the arrival of Motou Yuugi, the local artist whose artwork highly appealed to the terminally ill children. His renditions of the popular card game created a momentary flight into fancy for the children that their families and the hospital staff were unable to provide. It had been her idea to invite the painter, and although initially she had been unnerved by his late arrival and slightly disheveled appearance, the event was turning out to be a complete success.

On her last inspection, Umeko had found Yuugi in the center of a pile of children, patiently trying to draw charicatures as young hands pulled at his bangs and grasped at his hands. She couldn't help but smile as she watched the young man with the kids. His presence brightened the usually dull and unemotional room, and his kindness was evident as he calmly tolerated the pokes and prods and questions of those who sought his attention.

Stopping by the reception desk to retrieve a file she had forgotten Umeko slowly made her way to her next patient. Flipping through the file, she sighed as she let her thoughts wonder. This particular patient had been in the hospital for the past five years in a comatose state. Though he had initially been a child when he was admitted at the age of sixteen, at twenty-one he no longer qualified and should have been moved to the intensive care ward on the fourth floor.

Only he hadn't been. He had remained in the same room for the past three years. That was an oddity in itself, and after a little investigation, Umeko had discovered that the boy was an orphan. Or had been, until he had rather unexpectedly been adopted by one of the most renowned men in Japan.

Pegasus J. Crawford. Creator of Duel Monsters. Rich beyond imagination. Unwed and childless, and having a somewhat peculiar fascination with cartoons. Often he would stop by the hospital, hosting promotional events to raise funds for various sentimental causes. At one such event Pegasus had spotted the orphaned boy, lying still as he had since his arrival at the hospital. After a small inquiry as to the boy's condition and history, Pegasus had immediately arranged to adopt him.

Turning a corner, Umeko soundlessly entered the small room that housed the former orphan. Walking over to her patient, she had failed to notice the man sitting in the shadows.

"Miss Umeko, is it not?" The voice was exceptionally smooth, sending shivers over Umeko's skin. She nodded her head, turning her eyes from her patient. "You are looking lovely today, my dear."

Against her wishes, a small blush colored Umeko's cheeks. She mumbled a `thank you' and turned her attention back to the young man in the bed beside her. Upset with herself that she had not noticed Pegasus earlier, she focused on taking the vital readings of her patient. Pegasus spent much of his spare time sitting in the darkened room. He kept a tight vigil on his adopted son. She should have expected him to be there.

"Tell me, are you the one who arranged that little gathering for the children?" Pegasus asked. Again Umeko nodded. "I see. Very well done. I am quite pleased to see someone who is willing to go beyond the boundaries of their job and actually do something worthwhile. One grows tired of observing the endless droll of those who do not appreciate their work."

Umeko did not miss the condescending tone. Pegasus was a man known for his ability to dress his insults in a silk finer than that used in the garments he wore. He was not shy to comment on any aspect of society, but after he stopped talking one was left wondering exactly what it was he had said.

"Still, it is quite a shame that my little boy is unable to attend such a joyous occasion," Pegasus continued in a voice that sounded over rehearsed for sincerity. "If only there was something that could be done about it..."

The silence that followed grated on Umeko's nerves. There was expectancy in the air, and as she risked a glance at Pegasus she felt an urgent need to offer a solution to his dilemma. That was another talent of his. He was able to imply what it was he was after and have others willingly get it for him without ever asking them to, absolving himself of all future culpability.

"Maybe I... Maybe I could ask Motou-san if he would be willing to come by after the party is over?" Umeko offered.

A hopeful expression flitted over Pegasus' face at the suggestion, as though such a thought would never have occurred to him. "Do you really think he would? Oh, I so hope he will. It would be so nice if he would. Would you ask him for me? It would be so kind of you to ask him for me."

"I'll ask him," Umeko hastily said as she gathered her file and hurried out of the room. She didn't want to spend another moment alone with that man. He was... creepy.

Pegasus watched her sudden departure with amusement. He found it interesting how easy it was to make people uncomfortable. A change in tone of voice, a carelessly spoken word, even a slight gesture of the hand had the ability to signal the alarms in a person's mind and cause them to be on guard. His perception of this unease was one of the reasons Pegasus was a successful businessman. When someone was apprehensive, fidgety, they where distracted and vulnerable to attack. They relinquished their power.

Pegasus smirked at the thought. He was always willing to absorb the power others so easily abandoned. To subtly bend it to his will, all the while able to maintain the illusion of passivity. He wondered how passive Motou Yuugi would be.

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There was a bounce in Yuugi's step as he made his way down the corridor. The afternoon he had spent with the children had really brightened his spirits. Each of those children had a joy of life that would put anyone to shame. And they had been kind enough to share that joy with the artist who was willing to treat them with the respect they deserved.

Yuugi had spent a good two hours in his grandfather's arms, coming to terms with the breakup between himself and Anzu. The decision to end the relationship had been difficult, but the reality of the effects of that decision was difficult for Yuugi to accept. The sense of loneliness that had been plaguing Yuugi while he was with Anzu was threatening to consume him now that she was gone. It wasn't so much that it was her that he missed as it was that she was there. She represented an anchor to which Yuugi could secure himself and keep himself grounded.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts that had taken an afternoon to subdue, Yuugi made a final turn down the corridor that would lead him to his destination. He had been surprised, to say the least, to hear that it had been requested that he make a personal appearance to the room of Pegasus Crawford's son. Though honored for the second time that week to have someone request his presence, he was unsure of what he should expect from the businessman.

Belying his nervousness, Yuugi walked confidently to the door of the designated room, tapping it lightly with his knuckles. After a quiet greeting reached his ears, he entered the room and bowed before the man sitting beside the only window in the room.

"I am Motou Yuugi," Yuugi introduced himself. "I am honored by your request to see me."

"Welcome Yuugi. I am so glad you accepted my invitation. I am Pegasus Crawford. Please," Pegasus said as he gestured towards the empty chair across from him.

Straightening his stance, Yuugi noticed the room for the first time as he made his way to the pro-offered chair. His first reaction was surprise at the darkness of the room. True, hospital rooms where not known for their excessive brightness, but this room was borderline cryptic in nature. Shadows dominated the room, molding it to suit their needs. The blinds to the window were drawn, preventing the passage of any sunlight. The only light in the room was the little that filtered in through the crack in the door from the hallway and the three large pillar candles triangulated in the room.

Taking a seat, Yuugi was able to observe his host more closely. A thin and tall frame supported a sharply featured face. Long, straight hair framed the face, falling past his shoulders in tailored lines. The hair was so light in color that it could only be described as being silver, or perhaps a bleached shade of blonde. A single, brown eye with golden flecks was visible as it peered from behind a curtain of hair.

"I hear you are becoming quite popular, Yuugi," Pegasus said after he spent a moment watching the young artist. "There has been some talk that I should host a viewing of your artwork, as a way of thanking you for promoting my game."

Yuugi shifted in his seat, setting his art supplies on the floor beneath his chair. "I am flattered," he began quietly. "But I don't paint to promote the game. I paint because I enjoy painting. Duel Monsters is my subject because I enjoy the game. One just sort of followed the other."

Pegasus was intrigued by Yuugi's response. "Surely you realize the promotional value of your work. Your paintings appeal to an audience that my marketing team has yet to target."

"Every artist advertises. But the subject that is chosen comes from the heart, not the wallet. If my paintings promote your game, then I take satisfaction that I am accomplishing my goal," Yuugi explained.

"And what is this goal of yours, Yuugi?" Pegasus asked, his voice curious.

Yuugi turned his head slightly to look out the window. Pegasus' probing was beginning to annoy him. He suspected that because he had been flattered, he was obliged to answer any question posed to him. If he didn't, Yuugi was certain the generous offer of hosting a gallery in his honor would no longer be a tangible affair. Luckily, Yuugi held no such desire. Especially if the man he would be indebted to was Pegasus Crawford.

"Why did you wish to see me?" Yuugi asked, redirecting his attention to Pegasus. As he watched Pegasus' features harden at his refusal to answer the personal question, he decided he needed a credible reason for pressing the issue. "I told my grandfather I would stop by the video store on my way home. They'll be closing soon, and I want to make sure I get there in time."

Whether or not Pegasus believed him, Yuugi couldn't tell. But Pegasus let the evasion slide and decided to humor his guest. After looking down at Yuugi's art supplies and noticing the charcoal in his bag, he turned his gaze over to the still form of his son.

"I have never seen him out of this hospital, you know," Pegasus said with a sigh. "I didn't even know he existed until three years ago. I have spent every day since that time waiting for him."

"I'm sorry," Yuugi whispered.

"I know the chances of him waking are minimal at best, but I long to know what he would look like, alive and breathing just as we are." Pegasus turned back to Yuugi, the emotion in his voice absent in his eyes. "Would you draw him for me? Make him look alive the same way you are able to bring the cards to life?"

The boy looked moved by his words, though a bit skeptical at the sincerity behind them. That distrust was inconsequential. Pegasus had a feeling that Yuugi would honor his request out of the goodness of his heart. After all, the artist had spent the afternoon attending to nine terminally ill children. There had to be some goodness in him.

Yuugi was very uneasy now. A man who had tried to coerce him earlier was now asking for his help. Asking him to bring his comatose son to life. The task seemed overwhelming to Yuugi. But how could he deny the hapless plea of a father, wanting to recapture the memory of a long lost son? An adopted son, true... Actually, from what he had read in the papers and from Pegasus' earlier admission, Pegasus didn't know this young man before he fell into a coma.

Suppressing the groan that was fighting to escape from his throat, Yuugi tried to refocus his thoughts. He stood and walked over to the side of the bed. Glancing at the strongly featured face, Yuugi found himself warming to the idea of making this man come alive.

"Tell me about him," Yuugi said as his eyes continued to take in the image before him.

"There isn't much I can tell you. The orphanage had very little information on him. Apparently they were more concerned with using the children to gather funds than in the children themselves," Pegasus replied bitterly. "He is twenty-one, if that helps any."

"What's his name?" Yuugi asked absently as he leaned forward to brush a loose strand of hair away from the man's face. He was amazed at the softness of the hair that hung limp and lifeless past the man's shoulders. The darkness of the room only served to enhance the black sheen of hair that Yuugi ran his fingers through. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile as he noticed the reddish tint on the ends of the hair.

"I don't know. No one seems to know. It's another one of my son's intriguing mysteries," Pegasus muttered. He watched with interest Yuugi's gentle perusal of his son. The light touches and the softened eyes... very interesting.

His decision made, Yuugi walked back over to his chair and moved it next to the bed... opposite from Pegasus. He had not looked at the businessman since laying eyes on his son, and had no intention of doing so again until absolutely necessary. Removing his clipboard and a fresh piece of charcoal from his bag, Yuugi settled himself into the chair.

"Any particular scene you want me to draw?" Yuugi asked as he sharpened the end of his charcoal.

"Actually, there is." His pause earned Pegasus a side-glance from Yuugi. "I've always held a certain fascination with ancient Egypt. I would be forever grateful if you would be so kind as to use that for your motivation."

Nodding his head, Yuugi placed his charcoal onto the blank paper before him and let his talent take control. Quick, graceful movements where interrupted only occasionally, when he would raise his eyes to retrieve a specific feature from the body in front of him. He paid little attention to his drawing as a whole. Instead he focused on one area at a time, giving each detail the same undivided attention.

Pegasus watched in fascination as the young artist worked, his attention fully on his drawing. His brow would furrow when faced with a particularly challenging line. His hair fell softly about his bowed head, creating an alluring affect by only exposing small glimpses of his face. Pegasus observed as Yuugi used his finger to smooth some of the lines he had drawn, shading his drawing. Adding depth and realism to an otherwise stagnant image.

Pushing his bangs behind his ear, Yuugi paused as he took a long look at the man in his drawing. He hadn't noticed before, but the scene was remarkably similar to the drawing he kept hidden in his notebook. In this piece, Yuugi's main focus was leaning with his back against a tall and elegantly decorated column that framed a large window. He was holding his left arm that hung at his side, his right arm draped loosely across his stomach. Yuugi had dressed him lavishly. Intricately decorated jewels adorned the man, woven in his hair and encircled around his arms.

Yuugi gasped as the realization hit him. This was his mysterious stranger that he had drawn. Only with far more detail... the detail he had longed to see. He looked up at the man lying on the bed. He looked nothing like what he had drawn. Well, perhaps there was some similarity. The sharpness of his features, the color of his hair. Only Yuugi had once again adapted his own hairstyle to the image. He still wasn't sure why he did that. Gaping a bit at his drawing, he missed when Pegasus asked him if anything was wrong.

"... Eyes," Yuugi said, too quietly to hear. He swallowed when Pegasus asked him to repeat himself. "What color are his eyes?"

"They're brown," Pegasus replied, unnerved by the randomness of Yuugi's question.

Yuugi shook his head slightly. Pegasus was wrong. Yuugi's stranger would not have so ordinary and dull a color for his eyes. They would be far more dramatic. Exotic. Unique. Commanding. Just like their owner. No. He didn't know what color they would be, but they certainly would not be brown.

Pulling himself together, Yuugi stood and made his way over to Pegasus with his drawing. Reluctantly, he handed over the paper and watched expectantly for Pegasus' reaction.

Pegasus studied the drawing intently, as though he where searching for some hidden treasure. It was not the slow perusal of a parent, remembering with fondness a child they have not seen for many years. The examination was cold and precise.

"You made him a pharaoh," Pegasus remarked off hand, raising his visible eye to Yuugi. "Why?"

Yuugi shrugged. "I don't know. I just did."

Looking back at the paper in his hands, Pegasus waited a moment before standing. He faced Yuugi and offered him the drawing. "Here. I think you want this." At Yuugi's surprised expression and lack of effort to retrieve the offered drawing, he continued. "I saw what I needed to see. I have the memory now; therefor I have no further use for the picture. Allow me to thank you for your efforts by returning the drawing. It obviously holds a great deal of significance for you."

Yuugi slowly extended his hand and took the drawing. "Arigato," he forced through a mouth that had suddenly gone dry. Numbly, he gathered his art bag and placed the drawing gently on his clipboard. He bowed to Pegasus, and giving a final look towards the bed, left the room.

Pegasus closed the door behind him before making his way to the bed. Smirking down at the prone figure, he reached into his pocket and produced a cell phone. Entering a number he had memorized long ago, Pegasus placed the phone to his ear and waited for the connection to be made.