A Time to Dance

By Citrus Luver

Author's Note: This fic is kind of based on another fic that I wrote which I never posted on FFN. Only that one I kind of gave up on because I kind of lost interest in it. This is an alternate universe thing so Yami, Atemu, or whatever you want to call the three thousand-year-old Pharaoh, he is not died. He is not even a spirit in this fic meaning Yuugi and Atemu don't share bodies, and they don't have a mind link either. Japanese names for characters are used. I like them better. I'm not sure at this time if this fic will turn out to be a shonen-ai/ yaoi. It all depends upon how much I like Anzu when I get to that point. As of now Atemu, yes Atemu or Yami or whatever is going to be called Atemu in this fic is paired with Anzu. Yuck! I'm not that fond of that pairing, but for this fic to work they have to paired up. That's why shonen-ai is a very likely possibility at this moment. For those that don't know what it is, shonen-ai is boy loving boy.

Oh yeah! Yuugi is only 12 in this fic. Atemu, Anzu, Jounouchi, and Honda are 16. Seto is 17. I need Yuugi to be innocent and younger than Atemu for this concept to work. -

Warning! Major amounts of child abuse present in this fic! Do not read if you aren't comfortable with these topics! You have been warned!

Summary: What happens when a depressed, suicidal boy meets a young disabled boy? All his life Atemu has forced himself to be tough, act like a man and someday be a successful businessman. All forms of feelings have been stamped out of him leaving in its place an empty shell. It is a childhood lesson that his deranged fathers beat into him. That is until he meets Yuugi, a young sickly boy, who all his life has never left the hospital. Yet he has hope something Atemu lost long ago.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh!

Prologue

Demon Boy

Crash!

"You idiot! You good for nothing bastard child!" A young boy barely seven lets out a muffled sob. His whole body trembles… shaking fearfully. Tattered clothes adorn his body. The pieces of a shattered china dish lies on the floor around him. "Can't you do anything right?"

The boy screams… he knows what is to come… the belt. Scars of past beatings are still present on his arms and legs. "Scream. Yes scream. Scream like the bastard child you are. Nobody will help you. Nobody will save you. God doesn't save bad children like you. Hell is where you belong. Hell!" The man shouts, his words vile and full of hatred. A demonic aura vibrates around him. His eyes show pure hatred; no sign of remorse present.

Tears continue to roll down the child's face as he curls up on the small wooden stool. His hands are covered in soap as he grabs his skinny legs. Vein protruding from his arms and legs reveal just how skinny he is. "Daddy… please Daddy… no." The words tumble out of his mouth… pleading… begging to be spared. "I… I promise. I… I won't break another dish. Please Daddy… please."

"Yes beg! Beg like the wounded dog you are." The words rush out of the old man's lips followed by a bone breaking slap. The boy collapses fully on the stool. Tears now flow freely as he hugs his now broken arm. Blood gushes out from the piercing wound, and it turns his whole arm red. The man chuckles as he leans down to be at the same level as his son. He runs his thumb through the blood, applying pressure as he moves. Another wave of howls escapes the boy's lips. Tears blind his eyes, stinging them. The old man's grin widens. He enjoys the torment he is causing his son. A set of yellow rotten teeth is ever visible as he leans down and licks the blood away. The boy turns away, totally disgusted by the act. He whimpers, biting down on his tongue as his father clamps down on his broken arm. His tongue works through the mass of blood. The boy retches. A mouthful of that night's dinner now drips down his chin. A devilish grin ever presents on the old man's lips as he watches with pleasure as he degrades his son's self-esteem. A wave of howls echo throughout the run down, small apartment; followed by an insane chuckle.

A muffled cry escapes the young boy's lips… his face red and feverish. His golden bangs hang limping on his face. A small dirty, saturated rag is placed upon his forehead. A small moan leaves his pale bleeding lips. He tastes fresh blood, mixed with saliva. The boy gulps the mixture down, letting it burn into his esophagus. A bitter, vile aftertaste is all that is left.

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"Shh… don't make a sound. Daddy's asleep," a gentle voice whispers. It belongs to a young woman. She gently rubs her hand through the young boy's wrist, dissolving the ebbing stabs of pain that is ever present in his still broke arm. Someone's feeble attempts of resetting the bone are evident. A piece of cloth is all that is tied around the wound. Dried crests of blood are slowly forming upon his arm.

"Mommy, Daddy hit me again," the boy blurts out over his cries of pain.

"Shh… shh. Daddy's asleep. He can't hurt you now," the young woman speaks… her voice now emotionless. Her eyes are filled with fatigue, another long shift at the factory. She is their only means of support ever since her husband lost his job. Her once beautiful, bright cerulean eyes are now damp and darkened to faint shades of gray. Her limp blond streaks are tied back in a messy bun. Wrinkles are ever present around her eyes, not from aging but from stress.

"It hurts," the boy cries. Another stab of pain enters his mind.

"I know baby. I know," the young mother whispers, helplessness once again entering her mind. She knew she couldn't take her only child to the hospital. They had no funds to pay for medical treatment. Besides if he found out, she didn't know how much more beating she could take. " Shh… my baby. Be good now. Don't cry. Remember men don't cry, ne?"

The young boy nods. A small hiccup leaves his lips.

"That's right. Boys don't cry. Boys are tough. Now, can you good for Mommy and don't make Daddy mad tomorrow? If you behave, I'll take you somewhere special on Sunday."

"You not work?"

"Not Sunday. Sunday's just for you and me."

The young boy immediately brightens. A small smile forms on his lips as he looks up at his mother with his big bright crimson red eyes. She runs her finger around his lips before lightly pinching his nose. A small laughter leaves from his lips. "Now that's my happy baby." A small grin forms on her lips as she lightly kisses his swollen cheeks. "Night, my love."

"Night Mommy," the young boy whispered before sinking back into his small, moth eaten cot. "I love you."

"I love you."

-Different POV-

I love you.

Then why did you leave? Why Mommy? You promised you'd always be there for me. You promised that if I were good you'd take me some place special. Daddy didn't beat me on Saturday, so why didn't you come home? You promised that Sundays were our days. Daddy was even happy when he came home. I had dinner all made, your favorite.

But you never came home… now… now a nice lady says that you'll never come home. Why Mommy? She said that you went to a better place now. But you always said your favorite place was with Atemu? Why did she say that? Now Daddy's gone too. They say he's with you now. I'm not happy. I don't want Daddy to hit you Mommy. Come back Mommy. Come back.

They say Daddy will never beat me again. They say I'll have a better life now. But Mommy, you said someday we'd have a good life together. How can Atemu have a good life without Mommy? Mommy came back. I scared. Please Mommy came back. I don't like this place. It's scary. But I won't cry… because big boys don't cry. And I'm a big boy.

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-One year later-

Atemu sighs. He hated missing a baseball game… especially when his team was winning. He was a good pitcher, the best for his school. It was the second time in a row that they were going to make it to regions. Even though he was only eight, he had a good powerful throw. Better than most of the upper class man too, and that made Atemu happy. Games were the only thing in the world that made him happy. He loved playing games, and he loved winning them just as much. Luckily for the young child, he was a prodigy at gaming thus earning him his friendly title of Game King among the children.

The young boy groans before boosting himself up on the window ledge. If he couldn't play, at least he was determined to watch his team win. It was their turn to bat. Takeshi was up. A small grin formed on Atemu's face. Takeshi was one of their best batters. He was definitely going to hit a home run. Atemu watched. His brain was taking him into that special trance – that state of mind where he came up with all his strategies. It was the sixth pitch; the count was full. Atemu gulped.

The ball was launched, a fast ball, prefect. Takeshi was the best at those. Clack! The 96 miles/hr ball made contact with the wooden bat. A scream escapes Atemu's lips, followed by a mad crescendo of mixed yells of triumph and boos of defeat that came from the stadium a couple of meters away from the school. His legs were itching to be outside… to be there with his team after finally winning a firm place to compete against other Islands of Japan. Something they had never done before.

"Atemu!" A horrified voice breaks his screams. The boy immediately looks up and notices the superintendent of the orphanage standing there with a young man and woman and a little girl around his own age. A small giggle leaves the girl's lips, causing a small pout to form upon Atemu's. "Atemu! You know the rules. No screaming allowed inside, and no climbing on school property."

"I'm sorry," Atemu whispers. A shade of bright red immediately forms upon his cheeks as he hops off the ledge. "We won," he added quickly before dripping into a low bow.

"I know. Unfortunately… you won't be there when the team goes to face off Kagoshimo next week in Kyushu."

The young boy's crimson eyes immediately widen. He is horrified at the news. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please… please… I'll do laundry duty for the whole next month, but please, please let me play."

A small chuckle leaves the elder man's lips. "No, no Atemu. It's not like that at all. The whole coaching staff and I would love to have you pitch for us, but it is no longer possible."

"Why?"

"Because you will no longer be staying with us."

"Huh? You're sending me off to… to a different orphanage. Please, please Muroki-san. I'll do laundry duty for the next year if I have to. Just, just please don't send me away." The young boy pleaded. Once again the young girl around Atemu's age lets out a small giggle. Her baby blue eyes twinkles in amusement at the sight before her.

"No, it's not like that. We aren't sending you off to a different orphanage. You're going home to a family Atemu. A family."

"A family?" Atemu asks bewildered. Immediately he looks up. His crimson eyes fill with astonishment. Never, all year, had he expected to be adopted… especially so soon.

"Yes… adopted… these people are the Masaki. They will be your parents from now on. They run Masaki Corp. A famous gaming corporation in Domino City, it rivals that of Industrial Illusions and Kame Corp. And this young lady," the elder man said walking up to the young girl that had just moments earlier been giggling, "is your sister Anzu."

"Konnichiwa." The girl whispers, yet it's crisp and clean. Her beautiful short bangs flutters as she speaks. Two small pigtails protrude from each side of her head. A small butterfly clip is clasped on both pigtails.

"Konnichiwa" Atemu says shyly. He feels his cheeks burn as the young girl walks up to him and gives him a gigantic hug. She lets out a cute giggle as she cocks her head in amusement at Atemu's blushing. Her eyes flair mysteriously before leaning over and quickly kisses his right cheek. Atemu's entire face immediately turns bright red as the young girl backs away. She begins rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"You're so cute." She can't help but says. This causes Atemu to let out a faint pout.

"No, I a man!" Atemu boasts proudly causing a round of laughter to escape from the grownups' mouths.

"Now, now Atemu. We don't want you growing up too fast on us," Anzu's mother speaks her eyes lighting up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The young boy's eyes fills with wonderment as the black limo that he riding in finally pulls to a firm stop in front of large, white mansion. A small 'o' forms upon his lips. His feet are curled up tightly under him as he pushes himself firmly against the glass window. "You like, Atemu?" the young woman asked. A small smile forms on her lips as she watches her newly adopted son's excitement at his first glimpse of his brand new home. She had been worried during the whole adoption process that Atemu wouldn't take to them at all… at being his parents. But after spending a day together in Tokyo they all discovered that the young boy was flamboyant and seemed to be unaffected by his harsh childhood -his father's constant beatings. Either that or the orphanage had done a really awesome job at making him forget his harsh life with his biological father. The fact that his mother had been murdered then his father's own demise, it didn't seem to scar the boy's ability to talk or cause him to lose all hope in humans. He would make a prefect son and heir to Masaki Corp. As much as she hated to admit it, that was the real reason they had decided to adopt since she was no longer able to bear children. After her last five miscarriages and recuperation from a harsh illness, she had gone under the knife to remove her female organs. As much as they loved Anzu, she just wasn't a boy and because of that her husband had insisted that they adopt to produce an heir to inherit the company.

An elder man stood waiting for them. A cloth lied on his left arm as he opened the door. Anzu immediately hops out before pulling Atemu with her. A smile giggle escapes from her lips as she watches Atemu stumble out of the automobile. "Come on, Nisama. I really want to show you to your room. You'll just love it. I picked out the wallpaper," the young girl proudly proclaimed. Her words becoming a mixed jumble as she continues.

"It's not too girlish is it?" asked Atemu… completely horrified at whatever a girl could have possibly have chose.

"Nope. You're going to love it. It's really pretty! And it has a great view… one of the best. It has a view of the ocean. You can hear the waves crashing onto the rocks at night. It's so romantic!"

"Yucky," Atemu grumbled. He definitely didn't want his room to be romantic… or girlish. Hopefully those nice grown ups… I mean Mommy and Daddy will let me change my room.

His crimson eyes widened even further upon entering the Masaki estate. "Like?" Anzu asked, giggling at her adoptive brother's expression upon entering.

"Hai! It's… it's so big!" Atemu gasped. The mere size of the grand staircase brought shame to orphanage's entrance hall. The chandelier that hung from the ceiling - Atemu gasped at the number of diamond shards that must have been used to produce such a gigantic decoration.

"Yep! I know. I just love this place. Domino is the best place yet. Daddy promised we aren't going to move anymore. He really loves Domino. Come on! I'll show you to your room. It's right next to mine!" Anzu exclaims excitedly as she kicks off her dress shoes and replaces them with slippers; Atemu did the same. She grabs her brother's hand, giggling as she drags him up the staircase. Atemu looks in awe at each corridor they place. The oil paintings that lined the walls, probably portraits of past generations, they all look so spooky as if they were all watching him. Moments later Anzu comes to halt in front of a large cherry door frame. "We're here," she excitedly beams before backing away, allowing Atemu the honor of opening the door. He gulps, scared at what he would find. He closes his eyes tightly as the door swings open revealing a large bedroom… full of furniture. The theme immediately struck out at him… an ancient theme… the whole room was decorated like a pharaoh's chambers. The walls were lined with gold bricks. The furniture looked old, yet it clearly was brand new. Anzu beam widens as she glazes at her brother's new found expression as he walks into the room.

"Like?"

"How? How did you know I love Egypt?" Atemu gasps… bewildered.

"I didn't… not really. Mommy told me that you loved playing games, and since most modern games come from Egypt. I thought you might like this theme." Atemu grins before walking up to Anzu. A small smile forms on his lips.

"Arigotou… Anzu. You're the best." Anzu blushed at the compliment, pleased.

"I see you like your room, Atemu." A new voice speaks up, breaking the silence. The voice belongs to that of the two young children's mother.

"Hai! Okaasan," Atemu replied. "Arigotou."

"I'm glad you're please. Anzu will show you around the complex. Introduce you to the servants before tomorrow when your studies will begin."

"Studies? School?"

The young women chuckles before shaking her head. "No, Atemu. I know you're used to going to school with a lot of children, but that is not how things are done here. You and Anzu will be privately tutored here at home till you both turn twelve."

"Tutored?"

"Don't worry, Nisama! Tanyomi-sensei is the best. He's so nice!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

-Two and a half years later-

Slap!

A young boy's cries echoed throughout the Masaki estate. A young girl's sobs quickly followed. "Okaasan! Please! Please stop Otousan! He's going to kill Nisama!" The girl cried… her arms tightly latch around her mother's solemn form. Her lips are pursed together as she watches her husband spank her son once more. The young child screams again. Tears pierce his now dulled over crimson eyes. It was the second time this week something like this had happened.

Masaki Corp. had been hit hard by the last scandal. One of her husband's most trusted advisors had betrayed them… leaking out a new gaming program to Industrial Illusion. The contract with Kame Corp., a contract that they had wanted, a multi-million dollar idea was now gone. Then with Atemu's decreasing progress in school, he became her husband's punching bag. His way of relieving his anger was now aimed towards the child. Atemu had once more failed to memorize his daily lesson. Instead he had snuck out for the mansion to play in the garden with some of the servants' children. Atemu loved spending time with the servants' children. Glamorous life just wasn't for him, instead he liked the common life. He despised dressing up in suits and attending important formal meetings with tons of adults to discuss the next business deal.

The child was a failure in her husband's eyes even though it had already been decided two years earlier that he would inherit Masaki Corp. and marry Anzu. Their joint marriage was the key to launching Masaki Corp. to the next level. The betrothal had long been set since the day Atemu was adopted.

"Okaasan!" The ten-year-old girl screams. Her fingers are digging deeper into her mother's waist. "Please! Please! No more! No more!"

"Anzu!" The young woman in her early thirties scolds. Her voice is firm and steady. "It isn't my business or yours. We are not men surely you understand that by now. This is a man's world. We woman have no business in the business world. It is between your father and Atemu. After all, Atemu has to gain his manhood sooner or later. You want a strong husband do you not?"

"I want a husband who is alive!" Anzu retorted. Her eyes are emotionless as she stared draggers at her mother. The tears in her eyes burned as she turned away and ran up to her room. The young mother sighed, rubbing her temple. Where did I go wrong? A major blast of pain overpowers her, causing her to lean against the doorframe for support. Slowly she skids to the ground. Her son's screams elevate to its max.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

-One year later-

A young boy groans as he limps up the stairs. A trail of blood is following him. A large knife wound is ever present against his right side. No tears are present in his eyes. No emotion left in his pupils. A dull, soulless body left in its wake.

Devil boy! You son of a bastard! Cursed child!

Demon eyes!

The boy hissed. His decreased father's words vibrating in his ears. That man… the one who murdered his mother… now he knew why his mother didn't return that night. Why his father was so happy. He remembered it all. A memory that he had forced out of his mind; now after five years it was finally coming back to haunt him. He had killed her. At least vengeance, justice and tribulation had been established. His own untimely death… his own flesh and blood… his own doing. Drug overdose… pitiful.

Lazy! We gave you everything! Laziness is not tolerated in this house!

I will stamp the laziness out of you! No matter what!

The boy gulped. His throat burning from the bitter ammonia that he had been forced to swallow. It was a miracle that he wasn't died yet, probably because he was already immune to such harsh treatments. Damn! Do I hate my life! The aching pain in his right arm. The constant lost of blood. He stumbled again… his vision blurring out before coming back into focus.

"Niisama!" A young girl cried. Her figure once hidden in darkness now appearing in the light, her brown bangs hung limping over her face. An untidy ponytail pulled back by a short bow tie. A black leotard clung tightly to her body. Black tights travel suggestively up her slender legs. A robe hung limply over her shoulders like a cap.

The young boy looked up. His eyes were hallow, showing no emotion. "Niisama!" The young girl called again… running to her brother's side. She immediately gasps at his crumpled figure. A nasty bruise was already forming just below his eyes. "Otousan hit you again, didn't he?" The boy said nothing… his jaw long been fractured.

The young girl pleaded again… longing to hear her brother speak once more in his happy cheerful boyish voice. It had been a year since he spoke more than five words at a time. Even before their father had severed his jaw for talking back, it was a cruel punishment. He rarely spoke any more, just when they're alone. Every now and then he would nod or whisper a muffled 'hai'. His charming, beautiful voice was no longer present. "Niisama! Niisama!" The young girl cried again… watching her brother's retreating shape as he trudge back to his room. Blood still drips freely from his hand. Tears protrude from her cerulean blue eyes. It hurt so deeply to see her fallen brother's form. Why did Father have to punish him so? Couldn't he see it was breaking him?

Anzu turned away, backing into the security of her room. A forgotten birthday present lay on her dresser. Its neatly tied bow flashed in the corner of her eye. Her brother's birthday present, Atemu's birthday was today. Nobody wished him a 'happy birthday'. He had failed to memorize the codes of business. Atemu hated business. She knew that. Just like how much she despised it. Dance was her life… her way of relieving her pain and emotions. As for Atemu, games were his way of losing himself. She knew that every time he played a game. He seemed so far away, at peace with himself for once almost… in a different world. Quite ironic! How their family company was in gaming, yet their father hated it so. How Atemu didn't want a part in it.

She picked up the small gift. It had cost her lot. They were specially made too, from the creator of the game. She knew her brother would love it. She grinned as she walked into her brother's room. His old wallpaper still covered the room. The Egyptian theme was still present after all these years. He never bothered to change it. His love for Egyptian mythology never once faded over these years. She didn't bother to knock. Privacy had long been forgotten between the two siblings. The smile soon demolished as she saw her brother's broken form. A pen in mid motion from completing a character… hundred pages of math homework lay untidy around him. An unfinished essay on the secrets and tactics of business lied under his sleeping form.

Anzu set the gift down and grabbed one of the leaflets from the table. She scanned the work… unable to comprehend any of it. She knew it was beyond the knowledge of a normal eleven… no twelve-year-old. Atemu was twelve today. It was exactly four years since they had adopted him. What was Father doing? At least we're going to public school next year… like he promised. Lightly she ran her fingers through Atemu's unruly black hair. She loved to run her fingers through it. How the black clashed with the red at the ends. The blond streaks intermingled with it all. She loved playing with his hair. It was an unintentional habit that had been developed during their childhood. Atemu groaned, awaking from his slumber. His sleepy eyes blinked. He was startled to see Anzu standing there. He gave her a meek smile before sitting up.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey! Happy birthday," Anzu whispered. A small grin appeared on his lips.

"Arigotou." The words muffled yet appreciative in Anzu's point of view. At least he spoke, not like before. At least he was still alive. At least a small part of him was still there for her to hold on to.

"Here." Anzu whispered. Gently she placed the small box into her brother's bandaged hand. A red stain slowing forms on the once snowy white bandage.

"Anzu… you."

"Shh…" Anzu whispered. "I wanted to especially since Otousan seemed to have forgotten, and with Okaasan sick in bed all the time. Nobody is in the spirit for birthdays anymore."

Atemu nodded… appreciative. It took him a while to get the ribbon undone. Anzu watched pitifully at the degradation his father caused her brother. Finally the wrappings came undone leaving a small box. Atemu starred at it curiously before opening it. There… cushioned in small pieces of foam were two brand new cards… dueling cards. The young boy's eyes widened as he gently picked up the two cards… both magicians, his favorite. "Anzu."

"You like?" Anzu asked shyly watching her brother place both cards back into their box. "I wrote to Crawford-san asking him to make these cards. I knew you loved magicians." The boy turned… a faint trace of light returning into his pupils as he tightly hugged Anzu. The young girl immediately melted into her future husband's grasp. His ever-lingering apple fragrance always reminded her of her childhood Christmas dinners. Along time ago when her grandparents were still alive, her grandmother would bake her famous apple pies. Anzu loved them, and she loved those memories…before their father became the man he was now.

"Daisuki," the boy whispered.

"Aishiteru." Anzu whispered… lightly kissing her brother's bruise. The young teen hissed before melting into the only living person in the world who still cared about him. Anzu slowly let go of her brother's broken body. She knew he had suffered a lot over the last year especially just a month ago when she found him with a knife in his hand. He had wanted to end everything. It took everything out of her to coax her brother out of the hole that their father had driven him into.

As for now… it was there secret. Nobody knew of Atemu's attempt at suicide. Even now… at nights she worried about her brother. Afraid that he would be gone before the sun rose into the sky. Sometimes at nights she would have dreams when he would leave her alone… leave her forever, and that scared her. She needed Atemu just as much as she knew he needed her. Yet, sometimes at night when the wind blew a little too loudly… or a little out of normal she would get scared and run into his room just to make sure he was still asleep. Sometimes he would be sound asleep in his bed… a content look planted on his face. She cherished his expression when he was sleeping. She liked him when he was sleep… happy and content. Other times he would be awake finishing his daily lessons. He would stop, and they would talk. They would talk about a lot of things… happy things… like their future. Like how many children they would have? Silly things. And she would fall asleep and awake up the next day snug in her bed and she would know that Atemu had carried her back to bed. Simple things, but never the less, things she loved.

"Oyasumi," she whispered. She watched her brother pick up his pen… another long night. She sighed before flipping on the light switch. He never turned on the lights. He loved the dark. How the moon light would reflect off of the golden wall giving the room bathed in a holy touch. His lamp gave off faint traces of light. She always scolded him… said it ruins his eye sight… but he never listened. Said she's silly for worrying too much. "Aishiteru," she whispered once more before leaving for her own room. She knew Atemu knew she loved him more than anything else in this world. Beyond that brother/ sisterly bond that she knew was all Atemu saw in their simple exchanges of 'I love you'.

-TBC-

A/N: I feel so bad! WAAA! I can't believe I made Atemu suffer so much. :sob: He sure is unlucky ne? Wait till you hear what happened with Yuugi. If you thought this was bad… Yuugi's life is worse. As for the Atemu/ Anzu relationship… I chickened out. I took the easy way out. I made their marriage be arranged. But as of now Anzu does love Atemu in the husband/ wife kind of way. As for Atemu… uh… yeah. Any ways my reasoning behind this is that I couldn't see any other way that the two would get together especially since it is her family that adopts him. As of now… I'm still not sure if it will stay Atemu/Anzu or become Atemu/Yuugi. Still pending. As of now this topic is not being voted on, but your opinions on this matter still counts. Just that I'm not taking votes on the main pairing for this fic.

Also I'm not sure what Anzu's parents really do for living in the anime/manga. All I know about her parents is they moved around a lot in her childhood. The idea of having them own a gaming company just stuck out at me. Also I thought it would make more sense as to why they would need to adopt a son, a capable son. Also sets the background of why they would want Anzu and Atemu to marry each other. It was that or have them really be blood siblings. I thought incest might turn some of you guys off so adoption became my next option.

Also I'm not sure if this idea has been done before or not. If so, I feel really bad since I haven't read all that many Yu-gi-oh! fan fics. I did not mean to plagiarize… really! Hopefully my idea/ story will turn out differently from yours. So, now that I'm done rambling what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Indifferent? Please tell me! Review! They help a lot! I care a lot about what my readers think!