Souvenir | By : MishikoShinsei Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 5433 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: Just own the words, not the folks. Dust (Reprise) I lay our fragrant bundle on the floor next to the front door and flop on the couch beside Yami. We’d gone out shopping for groceries and had wound up walking around for hours looking for a ‘proper’ Christmas tree. "I didn't know that you celebrated Christmas, Seto," Yami had smiled at me when I’d gone along with his suggestion of getting a tree. "I haven't felt like it for a long time," I had admitted. That was probably more than an understatement on my part. After my mom died and Gozaboro began...I swallow hard at the memory of his abuse that still brings the bile to my throat. I stumble up from the couch. "Seto?" Yami stands right behind me, arms circling my waist. "I-I'll be right back," I push out of his arms and stagger into the bathroom in the hall, immediately losing the modest brunch Yami and I had eaten on our way back home. He's been dead for months now! It's bad enough that he ruined nearly every Christmas after my ninth birthday! Is it too much to ask to enjoy this one with Yami? Wiping my mouth on a handful of toilet paper, I head up to my room to shower and change clothes. As I stand under the steaming spray, I vow to myself that I will enjoy having Christmas again for the first time in over 10 years. I won't let that bastard ruin everything for me! Making my way downstairs after drying off and re-dressing, I smell the familiar aroma of my favorite green tea. I smile to myself as I head into the kitchen and sit down. Not a minute later, a piping hot cup of tea is placed in front of me. "Better?" Yami smiles lightly. I nod my assent before picking up the tea and inhaling its aroma. As we sit and sip quietly together, I remember that it was hard for Yami to let me work through those episodes at first. But once I explained to him that I felt stronger when I handled it on my own, he relented a little; though if I'd been in the bathroom for more than a few minutes, he'd have come to get me anyway. "Are you sure that you want to do this,” he gestures toward the small tree tied up in the corner of his living room. “Yes,” I assert, using a pair of scissors to cut the twine holding in the branches. I pause for a moment to inhale the sharp smell of pine. The scent reminds me of the last Christmas with my mom. It was a few months before she married Gozaboro; back when it was just the two of us. "We put up a tree then too," I remember quietly as Yami helps me put our tree in its stand. "I was 4. Mom hung most of the ornaments, but she let me help with the garland." Abruptly, I remember the gift she'd given me that year; the story book that I used to read to Mokuba. "We didn't celebrate at our house," Yami's clear voice interrupts my thoughts. "But I had few friends who did. Raph's mom did for a few years. He bought me an apron the year I turned 13 that said, “Does not cook well with others.”’ We both laugh at the silliness of the gift. "We should invite Raphael and Rebecca over for Christmas dinner," I surprise myself by suggesting. "You mean we should invite Raph to cook our Christmas dinner," he laughs. "Hn. You're probably right," I smile lightly. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx “I’ve gained at least five pounds from that meal and it’s all your fault,” Rebecca groans, cutting her eyes at Raphael. “Only five? I’d thought at least ten by the way you were shoveling food into your mouth,” Yami snickers, heading off to the kitchen. “If I wasn’t too full to move, I’d get you for that, Yami,” Rebecca groans playfully. Raphael laughs and I smile lightly to myself. A scrumptious smell invades my nose and I turn to see Yami brining out his latest confectionary concoction. “Eat up!” he orders. Rebecca is the first to begin savoring the delicious treat. “So, is that going to be pound 15, Becca,” Yami drolls, causing her to pause with the spoon halfway to her mouth. A bright blush precedes her sputtered, “S-so what? What’s it to you anyway?” “You’re right. It’s none of my concern. Raph is the one who’ll have to carry you across the threshold,” he teases. “You-you…Oh!” she digs back into the dessert with a huff as Raphael snickers beside her. I can’t remember the last time I felt this good with a group of people. I suppose I never have. The Christmas with my mom was just us two. The years I spent on the run with Mokuba, there were no joyful group activities. Except maybe that one year at the orphanage when I helped Mokuba and the rest of the kids decorate their tree. That day, everything was so perfect; I almost imagined that the 15 children scattered around me were my younger siblings. I hadn’t wanted to leave that night. Hadn’t wanted to be alone; hadn’t wanted to go back to whatever run-down Hell hole I’d been squatting in to save money. I remember that we’d left that city a few days later. And that last dinner with Mokuba and the Ishtars. I’d been torn apart by the twin emotions of hope and fear; hope that Mokuba would be fine in Egypt with the Ishtars, fear that I’d never see him again. But the meal Mrs. Ishtar cooked had been quite delicious, and the twins had really enjoyed my company and Mokuba had been obviously very happy to be part of their family. I close my eyes momentarily and remember the complete contentment I felt that evening that I’ve only come close to once since then; the night Yami and I made love for the first time. Leaving Yami and Raphael teasing Rebecca, I step into the living room to retrieve my unexpected delight from under the tree. When we got home from shopping for Christmas dinner yesterday, there was a package inside the screen; a DHL delivery from Egypt. Yami had suggested that I open it then, but I’d balked at the idea, afraid of what it could contain. Instead I’d countered that I should wait until after Christmas dinner to open it with the rest of our presents. He’d relented; his knowing smile indicating that he’d known more about my reasoning than he’d let on. Now, I regret my suggestion and wish I could open it without prying eyes. “Seto, are you alright?” Yami’s arms slide around me from behind and I lean into his embrace. “I’m fine,” I confirm, placing my arms on top of his. “Just thinking. And remembering. And wondering what’s in that box.” “Do you want to open it after Becca and Raph go home?” he offers. “No, it’s fine,” I exhale. I can’t run from people forever. And so far, everyone here has proven that they can be trusted. “Pastries first!” he exclaims, spinning me around and pulling me back to the dining room. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx “Hey! That’s pretty nice!” Rebecca exclaims as I place my unwrapped present on the coffee table. “Your brother has great taste, Seto,” Raphael echoes beside her. I nod dumbly to both of them, unsure of what I should feel about my Christmas gift from Mokuba. “And it’s cool that all the pieces are dragons!” Rebecca notes, leaning forward to get a closer look. I feel Yami’s hand slip supportively under the back of my shirt. With that gesture, I wonder if he understands the significance of Mokuba’s present. Even if he doesn’t, I’m not really surprised that he knows that I’m feeling uneasy. He seems to have always been able to read my moods. “My Turn!” Rebecca jumps in, hastily tearing the wrapping from a smallish box next to her. I use the time to try and take control of my emotions. “Oh, wow!” she squeals. I can’t help but smile at the decidedly un-Rebecca-like sound. Her eyes shine with the glee of a small child, as she carefully examines the small, unassuming gadget. She then sets the object down gently on the coffee table and tackles Raphael to the floor with a barrage of kisses. “Hey now! None of that!” Yami laughs. “We just mopped the floor.” He laughs again at the stunned look on Raphael’s face as Rebecca climbs off of him. “You seem very happy about your present,” I offer, as she helps Raphael back into his seat. “Of course I am!” she squeals again. “That’s the UX283 Wearable Computer! They only make them in the States and you have to order them months in advance! And I won’t even tell you how much they cost!” She slides into Raphael’s lap. “You must really love me,” she murmurs, snuggling against him. I almost laugh out loud at the completely sappy grin on Raphael’s face. We continue to work our way through the small stack of presents as we share tea and laughter. I can’t remember ever enjoying myself so much. Except maybe when I would spend hours playing chess with Mokuba. As Yami opens another pastry-making-related-object from Raphael, I look back at the exquisite gift from my brother. I haven’t played Chess since we left that house. Not once. Even though I have many pleasant memories of teaching my brother to play and then playing him almost nightly, I suppose I associated the game with Gozaboro and what he’d done to us. I think I hated the game for a while. Maybe I still do. I run my fingers over the ‘Black King’ and sigh to myself. Gozaboro stole so much from me; my mother, my childhood, my trust of people, little as it was, my love of games, my love of Christmas, my self-worthiness, my security, my home… Maybe Mokuba is trying to tell me not to let that bastard steal anything more. Yami’s arm slides around my waist and he pulls me close to him. A moment later, my head is in his lap, my eyes closed tightly, and I’m shaking. Slim fingers caress though my hair for I don’t know how long, calming me; allowing me to center myself again. “Do you know how to play chess, Yami,” I rasp. “No,” he replies quietly. “Are you going to teach me?” “Yes,” I murmur. “I’d like that,” I hear him smile. “I made you some tea, Seto. It’s on the table in front of you,” Raphael’s concern intrudes upon our moment, and I suddenly remember that he and Rebecca are still here. “I used to get migraines like that all the time before I changed my diet,” Rebecca’s lilt offers.”You should probably monitor your salt intake, Seto,” “Hn,” I mumble, glad that they’ve drawn their own conclusion and that I won’t be expected to offer one for my decidedly odd behavior. “Well, if Raph cooked for us, I’m sure that we’d be able to take better care of ourselves,” Yami inserts smoothly into the short silence. “Man, you’re good, Yami,” Rebecca laughs. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx At breakfast a few days later, Yami hands me a blank envelope. “Yami, what…?” “It’s a very late Christmas present,” he beams. Expecting to find a gift certificate of some kind or something similar, I am unprepared for what’s actually inside; a letter welcoming me to Kibougaoka Gakuin, one of the Toshin Yobiko satellite schools. As I stare at the envelope’s contents in awe, he slides his arms around my shoulders, kissing my cheek lightly. “Yami…” I stammer; my voice lost in the emotions rushing through me. “With a little persuasion, a lot of pastries, a donation from Raph and Becca agreeing to teach one of the math classes, we got this prep school to let you into their class for next January’s exams. It started last week so you’ll be a bit behind, but I know that you can make that up in no time. That’s if you still want to go,” he murmurs against my neck. Dropping the papers on the table, I pull him into my lap and kiss him senseless. And if my face happens to be a little wet, my lover and best friend would never say anything about it.
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