#puzzlesunflower

He was staring at the photos again.

The four-piece from the boardwalk. The two of them in Disney world in hand-dyed Mickey Mouse ears. Photos from their wedding. Their first date. But his favorite picture of them all was a photo of Atemu out in a field of sunflowers, wearing loose white clothes with his hands on his knees and a huge grin on his face.

It was a class assignment of Mana’s and she asked Atemu to be the model. There were other pictures with the handsome man in more masculine poses, but he was always drawn to this one. It showed just what made Atemu Atemu. How positive, how full of life the man was. How he could draw your eye without much effort. How he lit up a room in the best of times. How kind and gentle he was in the low times. How-

There was a knock at the door.

He ignored it.

The knocking got louder.

He felt exhausted but if he didn’t get it, they will keep doing it until he opened it. so, with much effort, he got out of bed, slowly wading through the piles of bottles on the ground before opening the door.

“Jesus Christ, Yug’, ya look like shit.”

“Joey!” Anzu said, punching him in the arm before continuing. “Yugi, I know that thing are hard right now, and we all understand what your going through but Atemu wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” “Doing what exactly?” he muttered, his voice hoarse from the crying and sobbing.

“This,” she exclaimed while putting her hands in his general direction.

“… Dying?”

“No! Just… wallowing in your apartment. Only coming out to buy beer. Not talking to anyone at all.”

“On the contrary, the bathroom walls and I had quite a few interesting dissuasions. Now if you don’t have anything else to say...”

He tried to close the door, but Joey put his foot in the way before pushing the barrier completely open, exposing them to the filth that was his apartment.

“No. ya not gonna turn us away and go back ta tryin’ ta kill yaself by chockin’ on ya own puke. ‘Tem wouldn’t want ya ta be mopin’ fer dis long. Ya gotta live. Fer him if no one else.”

“Moping. MOPING. So, me mourning the loss of my husband is MOPING! Well how would you feel if the love of your life was killed by some douchebag who thought it would be alright to take a drive after a bender? How would you feel if that same asshole managed to get away because he had the money to pay for a good enough lawyer that got him out with a tap on the shoulder? And that asshat managed to get another person killed and you can even feel satisfied that they’re in prison because someone else is dead because of them and, and,”

He burst into tears again as he folds into himself and just screams to all the world his pain. His misery. His sorrows. His fears.

His friends all gathered around him and trapped him in a group hug. With all of them holding him, comforting him from one of the most horrible things that a person had to deal with, it felt like a valve was being released and he was sobbing in their arms, Tristan’s jacket catching all his snot and tears as he just wails at the injustice of it all.