AN: "Haha" means mama (though okaa-chan might sound more familiar), and "jii-chan" for grandpa. The Japanese call themselves "nihonjin" and America "Amerika."

The Cold War somewhat officially ended because of the Revolutions of 1989 (or at least precipitated a rapid decline that led to the end), the same year that Emperor Hirohito of Japan died. Coincidentally, this is also the same year that Yūgi received the Millennium Puzzle for his birthday - and proceeded to spend eight years on it.

The radio was a rumbling static to him, punctuated by the brisk, dry words of some man. He ignored it, dragging his backpack to the small table that served as the dining room table, instead.

Several worksheets were pulled out of his bag. They fanned out messily, and he reached to grab the ones that fell, climbing onto the chair so he could see the top of the table.

His mother was quiet. It wasn't strange, anymore, but he still missed her humming as she chopped the vegetables for dinner.

The set of her shoulders was more tense than usual, today, and he frowned in concern, "Haha?"

She hushed him, not even bothering to look at him as she set down the radish that was to be washed. It was suddenly very quiet in the house, and unconsciously he held his breath. The man on the radio was more important for some reason, right now, and a lot of the words were too big to understand.

They were familiar, though, even if Haha and Jii-chan only told him little bits and pieces that he knew wasn't really what was going on.

Amerika was one such word. He sat attentively on his chair, waiting for his mother's attention to be drawn back to him again. Jii-chan told him it was a country, way far across the ocean where lots of people lived, and that they were very different from nihonjin.

And lots of hamburgers! He smiled at the memory, remembering his grandfather's rough hand ruffling his hair in amusement, a low guffaw resonating the air.

The man on the radio was speaking more rapidly now. Peeking at his mother from beneath his bangs, he saw that she was clutching to her apron with one hand, leaning toward the radio in concentration.

Something was… over? A curtain fell? He cocked his head in curiosity. What did a curtain have to do with anything? Theirs were still up - and he didn't think anyone else's mattered all that much to the man on the radio, either.

More was rapidly spoken, almost as if the man didn't have enough time to say them. It all sounded rather exciting, though, he guessed, fingers clenching the seat.

Haha gasped, and he looked over at her worriedly. The man droned on, though now there was graveness in his tone. Such a change made filled him with determination to interrupt whatever his mother was doing.

Jumping off the chair, he walked over, concerned when her only reaction was to absently hug him closer, "Haha? What's going on?"

She finally turned toward him. With a watery smile and a small laugh, he was scooped up into her arms.

"The war is over, Yūgi!" His mother laughed, and not knowing how else to react, he wrapped his arms around her as she twirled them around the small kitchen. It had been a long time since he had seen her so happy, and it was infectious - his laughter rang out alongside her own, "We're safe, now!"

It was to this scene that Jii-chan walked into, and a broad grin split his face as his mother relayed the news. Seeing his family so happy around the dinner table, later, made the meal taste all that much better to him (even if he really didn't like shallots).