Strike Records
Summary: (Sequel to Sennen Rage) An entire summer has passed since Yami rejoined Sennen Rage. He's healing, but some wounds don't heal no matter how much time has passed. YYxY.
Rating: M for mentions or rape, violence, alcohol and language. There will no content in this story that would denote a rating of NC-17. I won't write it.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Yu-Gi-Oh! or any ideas that Kazuki Takahashi created in the making of Yu-Gi-Oh! This fan-fiction is being written purely for my own enjoyment.
Author's Notes: It's been a while, I know. I also know that I told at least a few readers that this story wasn't going to go into fruition at all. Well...I changed my mind, because I miss writing, and I can't come up with any new ideas.
Prologue
Yami didn't know how many months had passed. He was trying not to think of time spans, because with landmarks came the thoughts of "this happened then," and "this long ago this happened to me."
Yami didn't like those kinds of thoughts because they gave him bad feelings. They felt like a constant reminder of the things that had happened to him not-so-long ago. Time didn't heal those kinds of wounds, and it didn't matter how many people told him that it would.
The guitarist was well aware that only he himself could heal his wounds. He had figured this out himself, though Yugi had given him many hints. Yami wasn't sure if he would have gotten this far without them.
No, Yami didn't track his progress by time. He tracked it by the amount of words that he could say to his therapist. He tracked it by the number of times that Yugi could touch him without him flinching. He tracked it by how he was feeling.
But those things fluctuated, so sometimes Yami felt like he had made no progress at all, and that he was still in the hospital fighting for his health and his sanity. Sometimes he felt like he was still in the hands of Ryan Allen.
Sometimes time went backwards.
It was raining out; Yami didn't really ever notice the weather unless it was humid and raining out, because that was the kind of weather that he hated the most. His skin felt spongy inside and out, and water would drip in and through his clothes. The feeling that he got both inside and out made him feel helpless and frustrated. Trapped.
Even though Yami hated the sticky rain and gloomy clouds that loomed overhead that Monday morning, he was still outside walking the streets of New York City. He didn't have anything else to do. Yugi had morning classes, as it was now September, and after that he was off to work at KaibaCorp until early evening.
During the summer Yugi and Yami had spent a lot of time together, going for long walks in the park or for even longer car rides. Yami couldn't honestly say that he was fully enjoying himself, because he was always uneasy about one thing or another, but he could say that he felt almost safe. He did feel the safest in Yugi's arms.
The second place that Yami felt almost safe was when he was by himself. He didn't understand how he felt safe walking in a crowded city full of thugs and robbers, but he did. Maybe it was because he was always thinking when he was alone, so he didn't notice or understand the things that were going on around him. That in itself was probably unhealthy, but Yami liked to be by himself, he liked to think. So he did.
What Yami didn't like, however, was how unsafe he felt while playing his guitar. Rehearsals with Jullian and Zach had been going on for at least a few months--Yami wasn't really sure how long it really was--and he had yet to just sigh blissfully and play whatever he wanted to.
He felt like his absence from his guitar and his band had made him forget about what he really wanted out of it. He could tell himself that he played because he loved it and because his lyrics were an outlet, but he didn't really feel like that anymore. He hadn't written anything since the song that Yugi helped him write just before rejoining Sennen Rage, and to tell the truth he hadn't looked at it in a while, either.
Zach was writing the songs that the band played during rehearsal. They were good; the songs had all of the things that scouting managers would be looking for in a band, whatever those were. Yami could do those sorts of things; he could play chords that were written on a piece of paper, and he could sing that words that were dictated to him.
That wasn't how it used to be, though. Yami used to be able to pull words and music right out of his head. He used to be able to think of a few lyrics, sing them and then play music that beautifully matched it. That was his instinct; it was something that he had all along and then enhanced as he practiced in college.
But now that instinct was gone. Yami couldn't any of those things anymore; it was almost as if he were afraid to, or as if someone had taken it away from him.
It was probably both. Yami had taken away his own ability to play from his heart by being afraid to. Or--maybe Ryan had taken it away with all of the horrible things that he had done.
This was Yami's problem. This was where he always got stuck. He didn't know who was at fault for the things that were wrong in his life. All logic told him that it was Ryan, that Ryan's rape, attempted murder and successful suicide ruined Yami's mind and all of the things that he had going for him, but Yami's heart and the dark spot in the back of his mind told him otherwise. They told him that Yami himself ruined his life for being weak and for being a coward.
He didn't know who to listen to.
The guitarist shivered as he stepped in a puddle and water flooded into his shoes. He had forgotten that he was walking, and his feet took him to A Jazzed Up Mind, the cafe that Yami had recently gotten a job at. He worked there on Thursday, Friday and Saturday afternoons into the night, giving coffee and tea to the people that listened to live entertainment.
Three nights a week might not look like a good paycheck, but Yami was tipped well. He was a young, attractive man with a nice voice and a deep, genuine smile. Of course the customers tipped well.
Perhaps the one thing that Yami really liked about his job was the fact that people didn't recognize him at A Jazzed Up Mind. It seemed like the only people that went to the cafe were those too young to go clubbing and those that were too old to want to. Yami liked it that way; he liked being in the shadows after being in the spotlight for so long. It was a nice change.
Sure, sometimes people looked at him with large amounts of recognition in their eyes, but they had enough respect and dignity to not say anything to him. Once someone went as far as to ask him for his autograph, but even then it wasn't too much of a big deal. It was obvious that the person remembered him for his music and not for the tragedy that he went through, so Yami was happy to sign his name, first in English letters and then in Egyptian script, on the napkin that was prompted to him.
Yami never forgot about the fact that he was an Egyptian. He never forgot about his parents, either. Yami had almost accepted the fact that he probably wouldn't get the chance to go home again, but when this realization hit him it wasn't much of a surprise. He supposed that this was because when he left he wasn't expecting much to come back. He was only upset about it because his parents told him that he wasn't welcome anymore.
That was the biggest shock, Yami guessed, that he wasn't wanted in his own home. But he was wanted, however, there in New York by Yugi and Zach and Jullian. That was enough.
--Well...it was enough for the time. Yami knew that he still wanted to go back to Egypt, if only for a little while. He wasn't going to lie to himself, especially if he could help it.
Shaking his head, Yami decided that he needed to stop thinking. He had pondered that afternoon perhaps everything that there was to be pondered and his mind was tired. He pushed open the door of A Jazzed Up Mind, deciding that he wanted to get a coffee.
As the door of the Cafe opened and the bell rung, Yami was instantly greeted by his boss, Bryan Isaak. Bryan, a kind and warmhearted man of about fifty, didn't read the newspapers or watch the news, so he knew nothing about Yami other than the things that the guitarist told him. Because of this, Yami almost completely trusted the man; one could go as far as to call the two friends.
"Good morning, Yami!" He said, his blue eyes twinkling. "You must be pretty bored to be coming here when you're not even on the schedule."
Yami laughed a little, smiling back at the man. "I was just taking a walk and ended up here. I thought that I'd come in to get out of the rain."
"No problem, no problem!" Bryan said. "Come in, come in! There's no need for you to stand in the doorway."
Yami nodded, agreeing, and walked into the cafe while taking off his jacket. The coffee shop, though popular, was rather small and homey. There were tables and chairs strewn about in some kind of random order as people often moved them to accommodate larger groups or to get a little more privacy, and the "bar" that was set right in front of the open kitchen was made out of a deep chocolate wood. The barstools were faded from years and years of use.
Sitting down at one of those barstools, Bryan got behind the counter and put on an apron with the Cafe's name on it. "What strikes your fancy?" He asked good naturedly.
"Just a coffee, thanks," Yami said, not even bothering to look at the large menu that hung over the bar. No, he hadn't memorized the menu; he just didn't want to have to choose from so many things to drink.
Bryan nodded, not caring that Yami didn't want something fancy, "Alright then." He turned around and grabbed the coffee pot, "For here or to go?"
Yami thought for a minute, "For here, I guess," He said. The Cafe was warm and dry, much more comfortable than the sticky haze that was outside.
Besides, he didn't have anywhere else to go. Yami had decided long ago that he didn't like the feeling of having no obligations, and his mood suddenly took a rather depressing turn.
Bryan put down the coffee pot with a small thump. "Okay, I'll be right back," He said, walking into the back. Yami sighed as soon as his back disappeared; he was feeling rather lonely despite the other's kind and caring attitude. Even though Bryan was one of the nicest people that Yami had ever met, the two weren't close. Yami couldn't talk to him, not really.
He suddenly missed Yugi quite a bit.
Mondays were Yami's worst day because he didn't have anything to do. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays he had rehearsal, and could spend time playing his guitar before and after playing with Zach and Jullian. Even though Yami couldn't play songs and melodies that he himself wrote anymore, he still liked to play in general. It still felt nice, even though the feeling was nothing compared to what it was months ago.
On Wednesdays Yami had therapy at the hospital. The sessions only lasted a little while, but Yami's entire mind was full for hours after talking with his doctor. Time passed very quickly when his mind was encompassed by the thoughts of his past.
And then on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays Yami was at the cafe from early afternoon until closing. He liked to listen to the live acoustic performances by people that were just starting out. They reminded him of himself when he was just starting out in America. Sometimes Yami wondered if he would ever play in A Jazzed Up Mind, but the thought almost always upset him so he concentrated on his own job so that he wouldn't spill coffee all over his customers.
Time always passed quickly at work. He liked talking to people about their jobs and lives, even if the conversations never got very personal. He liked being friendly and something of an extrovert, because he had never been like that before. He liked being different from what he was in his past.
It made Yami hate himself a little less, because yes, Yami did still hate himself sometimes. Sometimes he hated himself a lot.
But Yami didn't want to think about that. He started to concentrate on the aromas of coffee and tea around him.
Sundays were Yami's favorite day because neither he nor Yugi had anything to do. They always spent the entire day together, and it didn't matter what they did. Sometimes they went out on dates and sometimes they just slept all day. Yami wasn't ever lonely on Sunday and his mind was always relaxed. When Yami was around Yugi he could think about anything that he wanted to. If he wanted to be sad then Yugi was there to comfort him and talk to him, and if he wanted to be happy then Yugi was there to share it with him.
The guitarist's stomach lurched just a little bit. He always missed Yugi when he wasn't around, but there was no point in brooding over it. That would be silly.
A good-sized sea green mug was placed in front of Yami. "Here you go. On the house," Bryan said, that smile still on his face. Yami liked how Bryan was always smiling. He liked how good the world could be.
"Thanks," Yami said, wrapping his hands around the warm cup of coffee and sniffing it before taking a sip.
All in all, Yami was trying and almost succeeding in being happy with the way that his life was going. He was appreciative of the fact that it still was going despite all of the things that had happened to him. For now, he was happy with the progress that he was making.
Putting a couple of creams and sugars into his drink, Yami took another sip of the hot coffee. Outside it was still raining, but Yami couldn't feel it at all inside of the cafe. His damp clothes were drying nicely and he decided that after drinking his coffee he would go back to the apartment and practice for the next day's rehearsal. Yami was hoping that soon he would be able to play in public again, but he didn't want to voice this idea because it might make it a reality. Yami knew that he wasn't quite ready for that, and to tell the truth neither was the general public.
The guitarist wasn't sure if the public was ever going to be ready, but that wasn't something for them to decide. Yami was the only person that was going to choose if anyone would hear Sennen Rage again, and he was perfectly comfortable with that decision. It gave him power in a world where he had never had any.
Going against everything that Yami was trying to believe in, the guitarist allowed himself a single stray thought. It's only a matter of time.
Yami was glad that time was going forward.
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: This story starts out with two huge time spans that separate it from Sennen Rage. The first one is the nine months that it's been since I wrote the last chapter of the prequel. The next one is the summer that passed between Sennen Rage and Strike Records. This makes it extremely hard to write. I started out with this chapter to get myself and the readers back into the flow of the story, so that's why nothing really happened.
This chapter is set in September. Early September, like the beginning of the school year. But that's not where this story begins. The story begins in October, which is the next chapter. I hope that it's not too strong, though. O.o
I'm still very busy, but I hope that I can get on some sort of schedule of weekly updates. We'll see what happens. :).
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