Carry On

Chapter Eight –Island to Island


Sugoroku indolently shuffled through the deck of cards in his hands, the blue, diamond patterned backs flashing through his vision while he kept himself busy standing at the top of the stairs. The cards were new, and therefore stiff and slippery with factory polish that could only be removed through use. His arthritic fingers moved quickly through the practiced motion of mixing the cards, his eyes unfocused with the distraction of listening to the tones of a conversation that he was not a part of.

Sunday evenings in the Motou household were quiet affairs, consisting of the one mandatory family meal for the week where all three Motou’s made an honest attempt to get along. These were the moments when they truly acted as a family, rehashing their week and sharing memories and insults that reinforced family ties. Sugoroku had every expectation that tonight would be no different, even with the extra presence of Atemu at the table. In fact, the addition of the Egyptian may have even lightened the mood, for his charisma appeared to relax Yuugi and release the playful, easy-going man that he and his mother knew existed beneath his defensive exterior. His feelings towards the young man were warming as the days passed. He wasn’t overly fond of him, but examining his calm and hushed nature day after day, along with his offers to run errands and pay for groceries in addition to the money he willingly handed over for rent, was beginning to convince Sugoroku that Atemu was not there to simply misuse their generosity. He was quite different from anyone Yuugi had brought home before.

Sugoroku hummed to himself. He admitted to keeping an eye on Atemu – the polite way of saying he spied on the man, trying to catch any slip in his façade to show that he was not, in fact, the respectful and kind man that he showed to the world. As of yet, he had been unable to find any faults in Atemu other than the complete lack of knowledge about his past. That wasn’t a bad score in the shop owner’s book. For now, he was willing to give Atemu the benefit of the doubt until he did something that warranted cold treatment. Besides, he was hard pressed to think ill of anyone who could make his grandson smile so genuinely, which resulted in the child being pleasant to his mother, putting Gina in good spirits that radiated throughout the household.

The moment he had returned from his lunch date with Sarah, however, Sugoroku could feel the change in the atmosphere of the house. Atemu had been sitting at the kitchen table looking over some papers from work, a mug of black tea sitting at his hand. This site wasn’t unusual as the businessman spent much of his free time working. What Sugoroku didn’t usually see was the rounded shoulders that created an effectual shield around his body. The air surrounding him projected the message of welcome while simultaneously warning against coming closer than invited. While Atemu had never suggested an overtly animated personality that screamed it wanted everyone to come and introduce themselves, life stories in tow, he also didn’t keep such a guarded barrier around himself that any attempt at communication was met with hesitation. Sugoroku was greeted when Atemu noticed him and had been inquired about Sarah’s welfare, but that was the extent of the interest shown.

He sounded like a child complaining over being ignored by a man he hardly knew. He chuckled, shaking his head. Putting this much energy into figuring out Atemu was pointless. It wasn’t like he was going to be in their lives much longer.

But someone Sugoroku did know well was his grandson, and Yuugi had not been himself when he’d come home from the beach. He’d marched straight to his room, not bothering to acknowledge Atemu or his grandfather, only to return a few moments later with his harmonica in hand and stomp down the stairs to the backyard. Sugoroku, who had been in the kitchen with Atemu working on his own bookkeeping, had glanced at the man across the table to see his response. He was troubled to see the distant look in Atemu’s eyes as the young man watched Yuugi’s agitated wandering around the house. His mouth was tense, an expression Sugoroku recognized as an attempt to hide emotional pain, and he’d tilted his head at the small sigh that Atemu made once Yuugi was harshly playing his harmonica outside. When Atemu closed his eyes and hung his head, Sugoroku reacted by offering to refill his mug. The gesture earned him a small smile of gratitude before Atemu refocused on his work.

Dinner had been just as pleasant; Atemu and Yuugi sitting next to each other but not interacting, though a hidden glance was delivered by each of them during the course of the meal. What was upsetting his grandson Sugoroku didn’t know, but he hoped that whatever it was would resolve itself quickly. Lord knew they didn’t need any other stimuli to showcase Yuugi’s mood swings.

About to turn and head into the kitchen to wait until Yuugi was done with his phone call, Sugoroku hesitated when he heard the screen door open and close, Yuugi appearing on the steps beneath him. His grandson was fidgeting with the phone, his eyes never able to stay focused for more than a second before shifting in a new direction. The nervous energy radiated up the stairs, so forceful that Sugoroku wouldn’t have been surprised if both Gina and Atemu could sense it in their respective bedrooms. He stepped aside so Yuugi could stand near him on the landing, where the younger man waited thoughtfully.

“Yuugi?”

Yuugi looked at his grandfather from the corner of his eyes, his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth drawn in a slight frown. “That was Allen,” he eventually said.

“Allen? Isn’t he-”

“My professor from Hawaii, yeah,” Yuugi interrupted distractedly. He brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on his knuckle. After a few moments he walked into the kitchen and replaced the phone in its cradle, resting his forearms on the counter and jutting his hips behind him.

Sugoroku followed, curious about his grandson’s behavior. “Well? What did he want?”

“It’s strange,” Yuugi mumbled to himself. He raised his voice to answer his grandfather. “The University’s holding a math conference this week. Apparently there’ll be a few seminars and they’re looking for some people to fill in.”

“Rather short notice.”

“Yeah, I know.” Yuugi turned around and pressed his back into the counter, his arms lightly crossed over his chest and his gaze directed out the window. “Allen said a couple of grad students who’d agree to host the seminars got sick and the backup has a family emergency. They’re in quite a bind.”

“So Allen thought of you.” Sugoroku pulled out one of the chairs at the table and gingerly sat. “Knowing that you were considering becoming a teacher.”

“Mm.” It was quite the opportunity, to be sure. It was just…

“How long would you be gone?”

“Ten days, starting Tuesday.” Why was Allen the one calling him? He wasn’t the head of the math department.

“That’ll be a pricy ticket, being last minute. And where would you stay?”

“He said that the University would cover the airfare. And that I…” It was such a preposterous idea that it couldn’t help but make sense to Yuugi. They were close friends, after all, and Allen was only a couple of years older than Atemu. “Allen said I could stay with him.”

There was nearly a sense of awe in Yuugi’s voice, and memories of secret conversations with his grandson surfaced in Sugoroku’s mind. “Would that be wise?” he broached gently. When Yuugi shrugged he added, “Do you think his feelings towards you have changed?”

“I don’t know.” It certainly hadn’t sounded like they had on the phone. Allen had such a soft, authentic way of talking to him, even if it was in English, that Yuugi couldn’t help but enjoy the time he spent with the other man. “But it’s such an opportunity, and I know for a fact that I can’t afford a hotel for that long.”

While Yuugi continued frowning out the window, a thought occurred to Sugoroku. He wasn’t sure how to voice it, not knowing the extent of Yuugi’s sensitivity at the moment, but he decided it was worth airing. “You know, Yuugi, your mother and I have some money saved up, and I know you have a little. I’m pretty sure, if I’ve read him right, that Atemu would be willing to make up whatever the difference might be. If you would feel more comfortable not staying with Allen, that is.”

Yuugi’s gaze lifted from the window, his eyes falling to the floor. “Até?” Before this morning’s events Yuugi wouldn’t have hesitated at the idea. But he hadn’t even attempted to speak to Atemu since returning from the beach, both his frustration at himself for screwing up with the man and his anger at his friends for being so presumptuous rendering him speechless. The only way he’d been able to release some of his tension was to go out back and play his harmonica as loudly as possible. He was disappointed that Atemu hadn’t approached him. The teenager in him that he usually kept safely under lock and key was pouting; Atemu was older, so he should be the one to take the mature route and offer the Olive Branch. Yuugi knew this was unfair, but the idea was sorely appealing. It would also prove to his so-called friends that Atemu wasn’t the cancerous thespian they accused him of being.

Releasing an anxious grunt, Yuugi pushed himself away from the counter. “I’ll ask him.”

“You’ve decided to go then?”

Yuugi didn’t appear to hear his grandfather’s question. “I’ll ask him.”

---

Atemu closed his eyes and focused his thoughts inward, searching down within himself until he found his center, resting peacefully cradled in calm serenity. Sighing deeply to release the tension in his body, he bent his arms in front of him, paused, and began his routine.

It was a mixture between Tai-chi and martial arts, a slow, controlled movement of stretching and balance, each gesture reserved and full of purpose as Atemu freed himself from the stresses of reality. He’d had to push Yuugi’s bedside table to the other side of the room to create space and he still didn’t have quite enough room to fully reach through his movements. Still, the routine brought with it a sense of familiarity, and served to quell some of the feelings of being an outsider that were tying themselves around his heart. Raising his leg, his bare toes curling into the fibers of the carpet, the fabric of his black sweatpants brushing together, Atemu pulled his arms in front of his shirtless chest and easily balanced on one leg for four minutes.

The bedroom door opened and Yuugi walked in, too preoccupied to remember to knock. The darkness of the room caught his attention, and he looked up to see orange candlelight flickering its fingers across the walls and furniture, and along the exposed skin of the man standing in front of the bed; on one leg, his other bent around his knee, his palms pressed together at the center of his chest, eyes close and face outwardly serene. Yuugi watched Atemu for a long moment, and then moved on to finding some answers to his questions. Question. There was only one question that needed an answer right now. The others could wait.

“What happened earlier?”

… or not. Yuugi bit down hard on his tongue in reprimand. There were so many emotions swirling around his head, one after another after another; too many raw nerves being scratched with sandpaper on this Sunday from hell. And Allen throwing himself into the mix was not helping his emotional state at all. But it was too late to take back his question. That was the thing about words. They simply could not be unsaid.

Atemu didn’t respond right away, lowering his leg and his arms to return himself to a normal and relaxed posture. Drawing out from his center, he blinked at Yuugi before turning around and reaching for the white undershirt on the bed. “What do you mean?” His voice was supple, and low, and noticeably tired.

“This morning,” Yuugi continued, unwilling to allow Atemu to play dumb. “What happened?”

Atemu pulled his shirt over his head and went to move the bedside table back to its proper place. “It wasn’t my finest moment, was it?”

“Huh?” Yuugi took a step further into the room, annoyed that Atemu was busying himself rather than talking to him face to face. “No,” he said, though he wasn’t sure what he was saying no to, “what I meant was what did I do wrong?”

Atemu paused in his movements, his expression falling into one of confusion. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Yuugi,” he said, straightening and looking at the other man. “Why would you think that?”

Yuugi had the sincere desire to yell at him for being uncharacteristically stupid, but the honest puzzlement on Atemu’s face left his jaw hanging open with no sound coming out of his mouth. “Well,” he said once he recovered, sarcasm supporting his words, “I can’t say I’m accustomed to the people I’m kissing pushing me away and locking themselves in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Atemu continued pushing the table back into place. “That. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that.”

“Why not?” Yuugi said when it became obvious he wasn’t going to be given an explanation. “I did something to screw it up. I mean, we were going along pretty well I thought.” He raised a hand to his mouth, supporting his elbow with his forearm. “You’re really good at kissing. You should initiate more often. I’d sure enjoy it.”

Atemu didn’t rise to the flattery. “It was just time for it to stop.” Then, as though in afterthought, “You were going to be late to meet your friends.”

Yuugi glowered at Atemu’s back, the man now occupying himself by making the bed. He had a feeling it was something to do with his friends. Hell, he knew that. But if that were true, then why didn’t Atemu sound angry at them? He groaned loudly in frustration. “What am I doing wrong with you?!” he spat, though he didn’t hear the harshness of his own words. “Why can’t I get you to trust me?”

“What?” Atemu asked, surprised. He slowly sat on the edge of the bed. “But I do trust you, Yuugi.”

“No you don’t.” Yuugi started to pace, too lost in himself to notice the worried look on Atemu’s features. “You wouldn’t keep pushing me away if you did. I’ve never been pushed away so much in one week!”

“But I haven’t been pushing you away.” The hurt at the accusation didn’t appear to reach Yuugi’s ears as the man kept muttering to himself about his failures. Didn’t he realize that Atemu had been trying so hard to let him in? Atemu didn’t like people being emotionally close to him, but he didn’t think he’d done anything to indicate to Yuugi that he didn’t want to know him. Unless emotional closeness wasn’t what Yuugi was referring to? Surely the man had enough sense not to…

“Unless you mean physically?”

“Well of course! Every time we start getting serious you stop things. I don’t understand why.”

“Why is being physical that important to you?” Atemu asked quietly.

“Why isn’t it important to you?” Yuugi countered, pausing in his pace around the room. “Do you not like sex or something?”

Atemu remained quite, and Yuugi had no doubt whatsoever that the line he had crossed this morning he had just thoroughly obliterated. Atemu’s hunched posture told him as much, and Yuugi wanted to kick himself for opening his mouth when he was in no condition to think rationally. His face began to flush in embarrassment from his words. He didn’t want to push Atemu further away! And… and oh god… he’d just acted exactly as Honda and Jounouchi accused him of behaving. Someone who expected sex in return for… return for…

Many more self-depreciating thoughts were abruptly halted when Atemu’s tender, sympathetic voice broke through the silence.

“You value yourself so little? Heba, you are far too beautiful to judge yourself on such meaningless successes.”

Hard. Yuugi fell back hard against his door, mouth open and eyes wide in fear. He barely registered Atemu standing quickly from the bed and reaching for him in concern, but when he did he frantically shook his head and reached behind him to open the door. He exited the room so fast that he missed the defeated look in Atemu’s eyes and the way his hand stilled in mid-reach, fingers curling into his palm. All Yuugi could think was that he had to call Allen and accept his invitation.

He had to get out of here.

---

The lime-green taxi waited patiently for the group of friends to say their goodbyes. The luggage had been loaded, the meter was running, and the driver was perfectly content to read the local newspaper and sip at his bitter, black brew of convenience store coffee. Morning light had just broken free of the clouds, and the silver outline of gray mist was reluctantly giving way to a brighter, bluer hue. The driver adjusted the A/C so it could begin defrosting his windshield.

Yuugi was busy locking the door to the game shop, his friends clumped around the taxi. Anzu had her arms around her shoulders, having forgotten to bring a light sweater for the early morning chill. Jounouchi was never cold so was quite content to lean against the frame of the taxi, and Honda was preoccupied with the task of warming his hands under his arms. The late-night phone call the evening before that summoned the group had been unexpected, to say the least. Yuugi had just returned for the first time in three years, only to leave a week later for ten days. His voice had been edgy, and though he argued that he was perfectly capable of getting himself to the airport, Jounouchi wasn’t about to let Yuugi leave the country without first making sure things were settled at home. Honda and Anzu were present for similar reasons.

“Well, that’s it,” Yuugi said as he came down the sidewalk and stood in front of his friends. He handed Jounouchi his spare key for emergency purposes, seeing as how his mother was going out of town for a couple of days and neither she nor Yuugi wanted Sugoroku to be reliant solely on law enforcement in the case an urgent situation arose. “I don’t think there’s anything else.”

Honda looked around the scene, unable to keep himself from asking, “Aren’t your grandfather or Atemu going to see you off?”

“Grandpa mumbled a goodbye this morning before falling back asleep,” Yuugi said while he gave Anzu a friendly hug goodbye. “And Atemu’s already been at work for an hour.”

Jounouchi frowned. “You mean he wouldn’t go in a little late?”

Yuugi attempted to ignore the comment. “We said our farewells last night. It’s not like this is some dramatic sendoff. I’ll be back in a few of days.”

“He could have saved you the taxi and driven you in that sweet ride of his,” Honda said. He crossed his arms over his chest, a look of sternness on his face.

“And you could have offered to drive him in that antique of yours.” Anzu punched Honda in the shoulder to distract him from his train of thoughts against Atemu. The last thing they needed to do was start a fight as Yuugi was leaving for the airport. “We all make decisions.”

“But who’d want to ride in that piece of junk when they can go in style in a BMW?” Jounouchi demanded with a cheeky grin on his lips. “Still, he owed you that much, to see you off.”

“Would you stop telling me what he owes me?” Yuugi grumbled. He pushed himself between Honda and Jounouchi and opened the passenger door to the taxi. “I’m perfectly aware of what he owes me.”

“Whatever you say, pal.” Jounouchi put his hand on the door and shut it for Yuugi once he was inside the car, the window having been rolled down so the smaller man could stick his head out at his friends. “Will he need help?”

“Help?” Yuugi asked, baffled.

“With his things,” Honda clarified. “Moving’s a bitch.”

“He’s moving?” Yuugi wish he could have taken back that question; his voice had sounded so stupid. “What are you talking about? He’s not moving.” His eyes narrowed in thought, then began to crease in accusation when he saw the apologetic look Anzu was giving him. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…”

“You mean you’re letting him stay here? Even when you’re not here?” Jounouchi and Honda exchanged glances, and though Yuugi didn’t know what message they sent to each other, he was certain it wasn’t one that he’d be happy to hear voiced. “What do your mom and grandpa think about this?”

“Give it a rest guys,” Anzu said, shoving the two men aside and kneeling next to the cab. She smiled at Yuugi, encouraging him to take the opportunity to run while Jounouchi and Honda were distracted. “They’ll be fine,” she said quietly so only Yuugi could hear. “They just think they need to mark their territory.”

“I’ll leave it to you then to keep them in line,” Yuugi chuckled. He waved at his friends and told the driver he was ready to leave. As the cab pulled away from the curb he turned and shouted out the window, “Behave yourselves!”

The message sounded friendly enough to the driver. Jounouchi and Honda heard the warning. They had decided, after discussing the situation at the beach, that Yuugi wasn’t seeing the situation clearly and that a visit to Atemu was warranted. Nothing threatening, of course. Just a simple clearing of the air. Lost in the planning of their intervention, neither was prepared for the feminine hand that suddenly appeared in front of Jounouchi.

“Give it,” Anzu said.

“What?” Jounouchi said, stunned at the demand.

“The key, you dolt.” Anzu prodded his chest with mild force. “You accuse Atemu of mooching off Yuugi. Have you forgotten your tendencies when he’s out of town and you have his key?”

Jounouchi looked affronted, but knew better than to argue with that particular tone in Anzu’s voice. “Gramps likes the company,” he argued as he shoved his hand into his pocket. “Besides, I’ve been invited by him and Yuugi’s mom to come whenever I like.”

“Yes,” Anzu agreed, taking the key and putting it safely into her purse. “Come and knock.” She turned on her heel and walked back towards her house, throwing a wave over her shoulder and hiding the smirk on her face. Taking the key was about all she could do to make sure Honda and Jounouchi didn’t get any wild ideas. She couldn’t keep them away from Atemu, but at least now they wouldn’t have twenty-four hour access to what was currently the man’s home. They’d probably settle down in a couple of days when Sugoroku hadn’t called them and complained about elder abuse.

Jounouchi scowled after Anzu, his hands in his pockets in indignation. What was with her sudden acceptance of Atemu anyway? She’d felt just as he did only a few days ago, and then she comes out with this protective streak? It was just plain weird, and he didn’t understand it, and so to save himself the headache chalked it up to that aspect of femininity that would never include the male species. Now looking out for Yuugi, that was something his masculine ego could understand and rally towards. Jounouchi looked at Honda expectantly.

“So now what?” Honda asked. “Plan B?”

Jounouchi snickered. “You’ve got to admire her. She ain’t no dummy. Too bad she underestimates us.”

---

to be continued...