I.

When Yuugi Mutou was born, he had two shadows.

He came into the world crying like any babe, tiny fists waving in the air while his purple eyes were squeezed shut. Slick, black hair shot through with blonde in the front (poliosis, the doctor said, perfectly normal partial albinism in his hair) and a high, loud voice that burst with life.

His mother, exhausted, reached for her baby. The bright lights overhead, the cold room, the sudden loudness of the world around him—all of it was two much for the newborn, and he cried louder, while his grandfather took pictures of the beautiful scene.

Only to stop when he noticed that, even though there was one light source, his grandson had two shadows.

Figuring it was a trick of the light, Sugoroku Mutou lowered his camera, just as the wailing reached its peak when the baby was placed in his mother's arms.

The lightbulbs popped.

Darkness flooded the room, and backup generators came on immediately. Mrs. Mutou gasped in surprise, and Sugoroku reached for his grandson.

Yuugi immediately calmed, and when he got a good look at him again, he confirmed it. Only a trick of the light. His grandson had one shadow.

Everything was perfectly normal.

II.

When Yuugi Mutou was one, he had imaginary friends.

Perfectly normal for a child his age, Sugoroku thought. He babbled at nothing, played with the air. He hopped-around after nothing, saying "kuri, kuri!" as any child would, pointing to his imaginary friend and making Sugoroku play with him, which he always obliged. If it made his grandson happy, he was happy.

One afternoon, he had taken him to the park, while he made a few calls. He was so close to finally, officially owning his Game Shop. He had turned his back, only for a moment, to find his grandson had gone.

Panicking, Sugoroku searched high and low, asking every parent he could where his grandson could have possibly gone. Becoming convinced someone had taken him, he had already called the police, when he heard a familiar sound.

"Kuri, kuri!"

He had turned, just in time to see Yuugi crying, toddling towards him, arms held out. The elder gamer rushed for his grandson, scooping him in his arms, while a strange, puffball of a creature raced around Sugoroku's head a few times, before fading away from his sight, having finished its job by leading him here.

It must have just been a trick of the light.

III.

When Yuugi Mutou was two, he started to have bad dreams.

Every single night, he would wake up crying, and it would take Sugoroku at least half an hour to calm him down. Setting hibiscus tea on the pot, he'd sit Yuugi down at the table and play a little game of jacks with him.

If he won, then Yuugi had to go back to bed.

He always won.

He would talk-though he was still two, and struggled-about a monster in the dark. "Zork," he called him. A silly name, but he was only a child, and Sugoroku made a great show of peering in every corner, and deeming it clear.

Yuugi would cling to his side, sniffling into his pajamas while he cried about the monster, and Sugoroku would pat his head, and kiss his cheek, and tell him there was nothing to worry about, there is no such thing as "Zork."

That was when he started having bad dreams.

IIII.

When Yuugi Mutou was three, he learned his grandfather's name.

"Shimon?" Yuugi had asked, tugging at Sugoroku's overalls, a teddy bear in his arms.

Sugoroku had been cooking breakfast, and still half-asleep, he didn't register the fact that his grandson was talking to him. It took a few more tugs, a few more repititions of that strange name, before he realized what was happening.

"Yuugi?" He asked. "Who's Shimon?"

"Grandpa." Yuugi replied with a bright smile. "Grandpa Shimon."

A cold chill ran down the old gambler's spine when he recognized the name, but he brushed it off.

"Sugoroku." He corrected gently. "But it's grandpa to you, young man."

Yuugi held the teddy bear tighter. "Grandpa Shimon-Sugo...shigo..."

"Just grandpa."

"Jus' grandpa."

V.

When Yuugi Mutou was four, he started drawing his family.

With his father always away on business, and his mother working just as hard, it was no surprise to Sugoroku that Yuugi would start to include imaginary friends in his drawings. They were large things, carefully-planned with all the skill one would expect a young child to have. He would sit intensely, brown crayon in hand as he drew upwards of a dozen figures in his portraits.

Sugoroku hung them on the fridge, of course.

"That's me." He pointed to the boy in the center, with the tell-tale hair. "And you. And Mama, and Papa."

"They're wonderful, Yuugi." He ruffled his grandson's hair, and Yuugi beamed.

"That's Mana, and Mahaad." He pointed to two more. "Set, Isis, Kalim, and Shaada, too. Aknadin is bad, he doesn't get drawn."

That gave Sugoroku pause, at the distinctly Egyptian names. "Have you been watching documentaries again?"

"Nuh-uh. Mana's happy when I draw her."

VI.

When Yuugi Mutou was five, he fell out of a window.

He'd been a daring child, when he was younger. Inspired by his grandfather's adventures, in the middle of the night he left to explore. Sugoroku, when he'd gone to check on his grandson, found the window open, and to his horror, Yuugi half out of it.

"YUUGI!" He'd yelled, causing his grandson to lose his footing. He raced forward to catch him, and Yuugi tumbled backwards, out of the window, to the street below.

Sugoroku raced to the ledge, praying to whomever would listen that he would be safe, and he raced down the stares, to the sidewalk to find him.

Yuugi was safe, in the arms of a tall man in white-and-gold robes, a white veil upon his head half-obscuring long hair. Sugoroku froze, and was about to tell the man to let his grandson go or he would call the police, but the man placed Yuugi down gently, ruffled his hair, and disappeared-quite literally-into the dark.

Yuugi turned to face him, a wide smile on his face.

"Grandpa! Mahaad saved me!"

Sugoroku clutched his heart. It felt like he was having trouble breathing.

He remembered being saved, years and years ago.

"...he...he did."

(I've been waiting for you, Shimon.)

VII.

When Yuugi Mutou was six, he started to learn how to write.

He was sent home one day, sniffling, drawing pause from his grandfather, who was lost in thought over the last, six years of his grandson's life. He set aside the dishes, and gathered Yuugi into his arms.

"Grandpa!" Yuugi wailed. "I got in trouble!"

"Yuugi..." Sugoroku started, smoothing back his bangs. "I told you the teachers didn't like games in class."

"Not that." Yuugi sniffed, before reaching into his backpack. He handed Sugoroku his paper, which had red marks all over it.

It was a simple katakana sheet, practicing the characters. In place of all the answers, Yuugi had written hieroglyphics.

"The teacher said to write what it was!" Yuugi said. "I just couldn't remember the lines...but I knew how to write them...I thought it was good!"

"Just...ask the teacher next time for help, okay?" Sugoroku said. "I'm sure she'd like to."

Yuugi nodded. Sugoroku gave him a cookie and tea.

That night, he opened-up the attic again, and began to hunt for the treasure he'd buried himself so long ago.

VIII.

When Yuugi Mutou was seven, the shadows started following him, and the monsters.

Sugoroku Mutou could see them, in the dead of night. The monsters in the dark that reached for him each and every night, while he watched from the doorway. Stopped by shadows of two people that held magic over him.

A man wearing an Ankh-shaped Key came to him when he watched, fingers holding the doorway.

"You know what you have to do." The man said to him.

He knew all along. But he wanted to give him time.

"It's the only way to protect him."

Sugoroku shut his eyes.

"It's your duty, Shimon."

"Please. Just one more year."

The man disappeared into the dark, while the witch and wizard held the dark back again, as they did every night for the past seven years of his life.

"Yuugi, I have something for you."

His grandson looked-up from his cereal, exhausted. He'd been getting bullied lately, Sugoroku knew. This, at least, would give him something to do while he worked to solve it, which he knew he'd do one day.

Hopefully not too soon.

"What is it, grandpa?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. Over the last year, as if his own wish had been granted, his grandson had become mostly a normal child. No strangeness, no past lives.

Almost too good to be true.

"It's a wonderful thing." He set the box down. "It's a puzzle. It'll grant you a wish, if you can solve it."

"Really?" Yuugi asked. "Anything I want?"

"Anything."

"Wow..." Yuugi said, opening it. "Thank you, grandpa!"

Sugoroku smiled, tiredly, and set a hand on his grandson's head.

"Just be sure of your wish, Yuugi. Don't solve it too soon."

A/N:

If Yuugi is Atem's reincarnation, surely he's had some relapses like Kaiba...right?