# 2 – News; Letter
DISCLAIMER: Okay, here's the deal. This, although technically a story in and of itself, is not a story. It's a collection of one-shots that travel along the same storyline. It would be a story except it has no real point, so it is in fact part of the These Things We Do collection of one-shots. If that's too confusing for you, just believe that this is a kind of crappy chaptered story, okay?
Oh, and it's set in the fanon world of solid darks, and for reasons known only to myself I've given Yuugi's mother the name Omocha. Just so you know. Barely any canon here whatsoever…
The term between the winter and spring breaks was a bit of a problem for Yami.
Yes, it did mean that once it was over Yuugi would be free for two whole weeks where he had no choice but to obey Yami's every whim and desire (especially because he often made the wonderfully foolish promise "I'll make it up to you on break"). But it was also the final term, which meant that halfway through, Yuugi became swamped with study and assessments and barely had time to sleep, let alone stop and spend time with him.
Luckily, Yuugi understood why this was a problem, and usually managed to come home from the library to study at his bedroom desk. That way Yami could be near him and usually talk to him without actually stopping his work.
Unfortunately, the current assignment was a Latin translation, and Latin always made Yuugi angry because not only did he not understand it, but it was a dead European language and therefore completely useless, in his opinion. And Yami was absorbed in the terms and conditions of a Gin tournament he was thinking about entering and was therefore being absolutely no distraction at all.
"I suck at languages," he stated, glaring at the open textbook.
Yami didn't even look up. "You're getting better at English."
"I suck at languages," he repeated.
"Look at it this way, aibou. Those Harry Potter books you read – they use Latin, don't they?"
Yuugi blinked, then frowned, turning in his chair to look at his other self, sprawled on the bed with his laptop on his stomach. "You're telling me to study so I can read a Latin Harry Potter book?"
"Well, that… they make a Latin Harry Potter book?" Yami glanced at him in confusion, then shrugged. "Actually, I was talking about the names and whatnot. The spells. Didn't you tell me once that they all mean something in Latin?"
"So, when you finish learning Latin, then you can read the Harry Potter books and actually know what the hell they're talking about," he said calmly, going back to the laptop.
Yuugi sighed, propping his elbow on the desk. "I think I'll wait for the dub. I'm just bored, the other me."
"Is that not the point and purpose of homework?"
"No, that's the point and purpose of doing homework at the library. I come home so you can annoy me and not let me do enough to get this bored."
Yami smirked, looking around at him again. "You're going to regret saying that, you know. But in the meantime—" He shoved the laptop off his stomach and rolled up to sitting, automatically sliding back into a position Yuugi could only describe (in his mind and thankfully never to Yami's face) as regally sexy. He crossed one leg over the other, leaning back on his palms as he gazed at Yuugi with amused eyes. "—I can think of about six things we could be doing right now other than work."
"Well, there's a movie showing that I really want to see. Not because it should be any good, but because I want to laugh at the mad Greek prince. There's also this irritating child at the arcade that really should be taught that he is in fact not the King of Electronic Games. And finally, I'm starving, and need real food before your mother tries another experiment."
"Aw, come on. The homemade pizza wasn't that bad…" he said, grimacing as he remembered the charcoal-covered tomato batter they had been forced to swallow. "And that's only three things. What are the other three?"
A very slight movement of Yami's jaw showed he actually did have another three things in mind but wasn't going to suggest them. As always, Yuugi absently wondered what they were, but before either of them could speak the door opened a few centimetres as his mother knocked on the door.
"Yuugi, do you have a moment?"
He smiled, turning a little further in his chair to fold his arms over the back. "We were just talking about avoiding work. What's up?"
She smiled at him, then looked Yami over with a slightly irritated eye. He glared back at her, then stood up to sit on the desk so she could sit on the bed, opposite Yuugi's chair, without having to actually come close to Yami. Yuugi rolled his eyes at their antics, but Omocha didn't comment, just held up several sheets of paper she had been hiding behind her back.
"A letter from your father," she said, handing it over. "He's going to be finished on the Brockman case by the end of the month."
"The English law firm with a partner that keeps sexually harassing his clients."
"Oh," Yuugi nodded, flicking through the pages. Like most of his father's letters it was full of 'if only I were there' and 'how much I love you' and other mushy stuff. They were part of the reason Yuugi was glad he didn't see his mother and father alone together much. "Where's he going after that?"
Yami raised an eyebrow as Yuugi immediately stiffened, violet eyes flashing up to meet his mother's gaze. "Say what."
"A quick meeting with his employers, then…" She drew back her lips in a strange expression. "He should be here for the spring break."
Yuugi stared at her for almost a minute, then tossed the letter onto his desk with a heavy groan. "Oh, man…"
"What?" asked Yami, and the two Mutous looked around at him with identical expressions of resignation.
"Dad's coming home," said Yuugi.
"Yeah, I got that. Why is this a problem?"
"He's a little… uh…" Omocha winced, her wrist wind milling as she searched for the right word.
"…traditional," finished Yuugi. "And you've gotta realise we're not a very traditional household."
Yami furrowed his brow, thinking over the other households he knew. Jounouchi lived alone with his drunken father, Ryou and Bakura basically had an apartment to themselves since Ryou's parents lived in Kyoto more often than not. Anzu's father was in America more often than not, and her mother was barely ever home. Honda lived with his accountant father and housekeeper mother, constantly spending time at his investment broker brother's house so he could beg money from him.
"I don't see why not."
"Well… Grandpa, for one thing," said Yuugi, uncomfortable. "He's so… Grandpa."
"I understand that, but –"
"And we live in a game shop. There are two things in that statement Makito didn't like too much," continued Omocha. "And then of course, there's the fact I didn't kick you out on the street."
"Mum," sighed Yuugi, before Yami could react. "Not now."
"No, Yuugi, this is what I really came in here to talk about," she said pointedly. "Think about it for a moment. How is your father going to react to… this?"
Yuugi's eyes reluctantly followed her gesturing hand, sweeping over Yami appraisingly. He was dressed in the new leather pants he had bought to match the ones Yuugi had bought for him to wear at Duelist Kingdom. This was complemented by a simple black belt across the band, the usual studded deck-case one, and Yuugi's favourite: a black one with small holes which Yami had clipped a golden chain to. His shirt was simple black cotton, but he was also wearing the puzzle, dog collar and his cartouche. His wrists held his old ankh cuffs, and his fingers were home to no less than four rings. His legs were crossed at the knee, and Yuugi had a feeling he knew where his mother's eyeliner had gone to, judging by the slightly darker colouring above his already thick lashes. And Yami was being fairly conservative today.
"And you still aren't nearing Jounouch-kun's height or Honda-kun's speech patterns," she reminded him worriedly. "You still don't play sports, you haven't touched your guitar in over a year, your skateboard has enough dust to start a farm, and your grades are barely half what they should be."
"What they should be?" repeated Yami, but the other two weren't listening as the blood drained from Yuugi's cheeks.
"The shop is barely turning a profit, the house is a mess and Yami-chan here is too lazy to ever roll out his futon," she continued, more nervous by the second.
"Yami-chan?" snarled Yami.
"Well… um… I made friends?" offered Yuugi, but she shook her head.
"A gang member, a bully, an occultist, a thief, a tomboy, a kidnapper's game-designing son and the cold-hearted president of Kaiba Corporation," she said, and Yuugi twitched nervously.
"And you couldn't have told me all this after my exams?" he asked weakly.
"I thought you would need time to deal with that," she said, waving at Yami again.
They stared at each other for a long second, then both shuddered and looked away. Yami's eyebrow ticked in frustration several times, before he said, in a carefully controlled voice, "What the hell are you two talking about?"
Omocha sighed heavily. "Yami, you have to understand… I love my husband, really. But even though I like you less than the worms I scrape off my high heels, you are in fact easier to live with."
Yami stared, then turned to Yuugi, who shrugged. "Dad's a nice guy. He just likes things to be the way he likes them."
He shrugged again. "Meaning, he would have preferred that I took after his side of the family, rather than Grandpa. And things'd probably go a lot smoother if Mum didn't work… and men didn't wear leather and eye make-up…"
"Eye make-up?" repeated Omocha, her head snapping around to glare at Yami, who turned his head just as quickly so his hair hid his face from her.
"When you say 'smoother', what exactly do you mean? What does he do when things don't go his way?" he asked Yuugi, who smiled.
"Nothing like what you're thinking," he said firmly, laying a calming hand on Yami's thigh. "He likes to imply things, that's all. And he has very meaningful expressions."
"For instance, if he were here right now," began Omocha, looking at Yami sideways, "he would probably ask you if you were comfortable, and begin asking Yuugi about Anzu-chan."
The two boys blinked, looked down at Yuugi's hand, then up at each other. Yuugi blushed and quickly drew it back onto the table.
"Then can I ask why it's such a problem?" asked Yami, frowning at the movement.
"No real problem, it just…"
"—Wears on you," finished Omocha. "So we try and avoid it. The being said, Yuugi—"
"I know it's hard with all this, but if you could please try and do better these exams?" she asked gently. "And I'll take over the store accounts, and do some more cleaning, but with finishing up work before your break that probably means I won't have much time for cooking."
"No," he said firmly. "No, no, no…"
"What?" asked Yami.
"I am not cooking," said Yuugi, holding out a stubborn finger. "No way am I touching a fry pan. I do not know how."
"You are going to cook," snapped Omocha.
"Nn…" He mumbled something that sounded vaguely like an affirmation.
"And… could you… maybe…?" They looked up at Yami again, before Omocha sighed and stood up. She picked up the abandoned letter and leaned over to softly kiss Yuugi's temple. "Thank you, Yuugi."
"Yeah," he mumbled, and she smiled as she left the room.
Yami stared at the closed door for a moment afterward, then looked around at Yuugi again. "So, aibou… what does all this mean?"
"It means, the other me…" He let out a long breath, turning back to his Latin. "It means the next six weeks are going to be very interesting."
He frowned, watching worriedly as Yuugi bent over his homework.
I told you there was no point. Did you not believe me, or something? Oh well. Read and review for me puh-lease?