#backlog.

can you kiss a spirit, thinks yugi, can you kiss a ghost that doesn't really exist but for a memory locked into ancient cursed gold and sometimes freed into a borrowed-shared-hallowed vessel of flesh - can you kiss him.

he thinks he would like to.

the spirit's face is like a reflection and yugi can see through his eyes to the stars outside the window.  he looks pensive, lonely, worn down with a quiet melancholy. the edges of him are like smoke.

can you kiss a spirit. can you kiss the sadness off the corners of his mouth  - yugi would like to.

he is very beautiful, and yugi doesn't know who he is any more than the spirit knows who he himself is, but he knows him.  knows the fierce wild loyalty, the quick impulsiveness, the pride and strength. knows too the fear, the loneliness, the feeling of being stranded on a single point in time with no memories to build a bridge to the past.

- knows the trust and love in his voice when he calls him partner, the often-hidden gentleness that settles in when they talk face-to-face in the corridor between their soul rooms and yugi wants very much to kiss him, except that those moments are more dream than real and can you kiss a dream -

if you're feeling sad, says yugi, into the stillness of the room, I'm here. you can talk to me.

the sprit turns too look at him.  thank you, he says. hesitates, uncharacteristically.

(his familiar bangs cast shadows over his face and yugi wants to cross the bed and brush them aside, wipe away the tears that he knows remain unshed only through force of will.)

i don't know who i am, says the spirit, and his voice that is normally a little too loud for the occasion sounds small and lost.  i don't -

it's not something he thinks about often, yugi knows (through the tugging dancing link between their minds), it is usually buried beneath the quick and fiery nature of the spirit's thoughts, but times like these. when it is nighttime and the house is quiet and cold.

i know who you are, says yugi, and then says, i know you.

the spirit stares at him, his expression incomprehensible.

i know that's not enough, says yugi, his words shivery and nervous off his tongue. not for now. but someday you'll remember everything about who you are, and until then i'm here. and the person you are now is, is - there's nothing to worry about.

the spirit stares a moment more and then smiles. it's small and gentle and it shines in the dark room, it's beautiful and yugi wants to taste it. he wants to feel that smile against his, warm breath on warm breath, but that's not quite right because spirits have no breath.

he reaches forward and touches the spirit's hand. it feels odd, it tingles, like something is there and yet not quite there. if he pushes, his hand passes right through.

you can touch a spirit, just a bit. not very much.

can i kiss you? asks yugi.

the spirit's mouth opens a little bit. he really is very beautiful; it's not quite his own face that yugi sees mirrored back at him. there is a regal grace, a sort of poise and solemnity that marks the difference between them. they look like different people.

yes, says the spirit, in a voice like eyes widening, and yugi slides forward and brings his lips to where the vision's mouth is, feels the otherworldly pinpricks on his mouth. feels them shift softly as the spirit tilts his head and presses into the half-touch. feels it elsewhere, too, as ghostly hands slide onto his shoulders, the back of his neck, gentle static combing through his hair.

yugi moves away and sees wide violet eyes staring at him, he can still see the stars through them, like a reflection.

i'm here, he says again.

i know, says the spirit, and the goosebumps move to his face, a soft touch that feels warmer this time.

He's just finished signing autographs, a little flourish on the end of each one, greeting each comer as sincerely and openly as he can with the tiredness of a long day of public appearance tugging at him, when he hears his name being called in a way that cuts through the noise around him.

"Robin!"  Tsukumo Yuuma is pushing his way through the dispersing remains of the crowd, all bright voice and loud colors.  "It's been a while!"

"Would you like an autograph?" is Fuuya's first reaction, followed by "Sorry!" - as Yuuma's expression starts to turn towards bewilderment.  "I've been signing autographs for the past ten minutes.  It's automatic.  Were you there for the show?"

"The exhibition duel?  Yeah, it was great!"  Yuuma bounces a little on his heels.  "You're really cool, Robin!"

Sparrow wings fluttering in Fuuya's chest.  Yuuma tends to have this effect.  "Ah, thank you."

Yuuma eyes the rapidly emptying square around them.  "Listen, Fuuya...”

Sparrow heart skips a beat at the sound of his given name.  "Yes?"

"I have this friend, Astral.  He can't be here in person, but he's a huge fan of yours and wanted me to tell you that."

No matter how many times Fuuya hears something along those lines, the warmth that fills his heart is always the same.  "Ah, I'm glad!"

"Yeah, he thinks your duels are really cool, that they have this kind of, I don't know, he's too poetic for me a lot of the time, but that they're pretty -"  He cuts himself off.  His gaze flicks to the right corner of his eye.  "Elegant, yeah, that was it.  And a bunch of other stuff, I don't remember, but anyway he really likes you!"  Yuuma takes Fuuya's hands, and Fuuya's chest that is already warm from the compliments starts to bubble like water in a pot.  "And all that stuff he said, I think so too!"

"R-Really," murmurs Fuuya, face warm, staring down at Yuuma's hands.  They are squareish and firm and certain around his own shy slender fingers.  "I - I'm glad."

"And Astral, this friend, he gave me something," says Yuuma, and Fuuya looks up to see him leaning in, flushed with a secret anticipation, "and told me to give it to you."

"That's really nice of him," says Fuuya, too flustered by Yuuma's closeness, his typical exuberant personal space invasion, the shining in his eyes.  "What is it -"

"First," says Yuuma, and gently pries the mask off Fuuya's face, and lets his hair fall down over his forehead.  "Did you know your hair looks so soft like that..."

and somewhere in all this Fuuya realizes what the present is, and thank god he has time to relax into the feeling of Yuuma's lips pressing gently against his, eyes drift shut, sparrow wings beating hard in his chest.  Yuuma's lips are warm like the rest of him and Fuuya is forgetting to breathe.

He remembers only when Yuuma pulls away, the smile on his face bright and a little uncertain.  "That was the present," he says.

Fuuya giggles because he doesn't know what to do, and because the warmth in his chest is bubbling over too much to be contained.  "That was," he says, "a very good present -"

Yuuma lets out a breath.  "Good!"

"- do you think he'll ever be able to come over so I can pay him back personally?"  He feels almost too daring saying that.  ESPer Robin, he tells himself, ESPer Robin is brave and bold enough for those kinds of things, with Tsukumo Yuuma shining in his face and Yuuma's friend - friend? - a ghost on his lips.  Even without the mask, with his hair soft in his face, he is still Robin.

"No, sorry," says Yuuma.  He's still holding Fuuya's hands, and he swings them from side to side a little.  "It's hard to explain.  But -"

"In that case - " says Fuuya, who is ESPer Robin who is brave enough for this, and leans in and kisses Yuuma, gentle and sweet, and savors the tiny noise of pleased surprise against his mouth.  "You can give him that, from me, okay?"

The slow smile that spreads across Yuuma's face at that tells him he's gotten the right idea.  "I will!" he says.  "I'll be sure to," his hand comes up and touches his mouth, "tell him it's from you, and -"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," says Fuuya, almost coyly, just to see the way Yuuma's face is like a light brightening under a blanket, secret soft at the understanding.  He adds, "But I would appreciate it."

"Thanks!" says Yuuma, almost stuttering, too-bright and flustered.  "Thanks, I -" There's a beeping from his pocket.

"Ah!" he says, and pulls out his D-Gazer, and checks the screen with fumbling fingers.  "I have to go now -"

"Bye," says Fuuya, a tentative hand raised waving goodbye, and Yuuma who is already halfway across the square turns around and shouts, "Later!  Hang on -"  He skids to a stop, draws one arm back, and ESPer Robin's mask comes pinwheeling through the air towards Fuuya like a shuriken.  Fuuya catches it and waves as Yuuma disappears.

It's not until he's back in his dressing room that he allows himself to put his face in his hands and emit the continuous high-pitched noise into them that's been building up in his chest.  He slides down the wall and ends up sitting on his cape.  He's kissed Tsukumo Yuuma.  And Yuuma likes him and Yuuma's friend-loved-one who sounds so nice and eloquent likes him and...

"She what?"

The outburst that issued from the office of Sub-Commander Tenjouin that morning was something everyone had been waiting for. Ever since the report had been tossed across the desk of a hapless Osiris Red, the unit as a whole had been putting off informing him of the occurrence. And now, it seemed, the moment had arrived.

"My baby sister has vanished?"

"Sir, she is a grown woman, quite capable of fending for herself -"

"Has anyone been trying to find her?"

"Yes, actually, she's considered criminally on the run, she needs to be captured and brought in -"

"Wh -" Tenjouin paused, blinked for a moment. "Well don't capture her, for god's sake, I just need to know she's safe, all right?"

“All right. Sir.” His deputy hesitated for a moment, trying to determine if this could be considered an official order. If so, Tenjouin might have to be court-martialed, perhaps even brought before the Professor, for breaking procedure out of flagrant favoritism - but then again, people tended to tolerate his eccentricities. He was, after all, a brilliant duelist and strategist, and demoting him would mean a loss of valuable contribution.

The deputy made a mental note to tell the rest of the unit to bring her in unharmed.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, sir. Apparently Marufuji has gone rogue again.”

Tenjouin sighed and dropped back into his chair. “Again?”

“Yes, sir. Again.”

It wasn’t the first time, or even the second, or third. Marufuji had a tendency to buck orders, ditch his squadron, and go on what could be described as a rampage if not for how very deliberate it clearly was. He tended to get off easy because those episodes did, after all, deal significant and strategically useful damage to the Resistance forces. And there was a rumor that increasing his penalty each time wouldn’t deter him at all, because said punishments tended to be corporeal, and, well -

Tenjouin rubbed his eyes. “All right, bring him in for questioning. Use caution, all that. If I know him -” He stopped with his mouth open, blinked a couple times; a look of puzzlement passed over his face. “Well, anyway. He has a tendency to be pretty unreasonable during those times, from - from what I’ve heard. Got that?”

“Yes, sir.” Nothing he couldn’t have inferred himself, but Tenjouin seemed distracted now, a look of mild confusion on his face. “I… I think that’s all, sir.”

“Good.” Tenjouin appeared to shake himself out of it. “Make sure Asuka-chan gets back safe, all right?”

Asuka-chan. No one in their right mind would refer to a fellow soldier that way in an official context, regardless of familial relationship, but there was a rumor that Tenjouin had once fallen into a gap between dimensions and it had turned him a bit odd in the head. Fairytales, like the superstition that the Real Solid Vision testing facility was built on top of a haunted abandoned dorm. "Yes, sir."

"Is that all?" asked Tenjouin.

The deputy had work to be doing. “Yes, sir, that's all."