Yuugi Mutou. 19. Japanese. Freshman. Department of Communication Studies at The University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. Card game enthusiast. Metrosexual. Gemini.

And right now, completely and utterly lost.

Yuugi wheeled his sleek, patent leather suitcase behind him as his chunk-heeled boots slapped the concrete sidewalk hurriedly, the erratic noises signaling his distress. He looked around him from behind the tinted lenses of his tortoise-shell sunglasses at all of the street signs, flashing lights, and attempted to block out the noise of the other pedestrians rushing past him.

Hopelessly, irredeemably lost.

After he'd gotten off of the subway at 32nd street, he'd been immediately swallowed up by the enormous city. Yuugi wasn't even sure he'd gotten off at the right stop, but he'd gotten fidgety riding the subway, already having ridden the train for so long. He'd just stepped off of the plane that morning, and while he had assured his grandfather – his guardian – that he was capable of taking care of himself on move-in day, Yuugi would have been glad for a friendly face.

Applying to university in America had seemed like a no-brainer at the time. The States were well known for their institutions of higher education, and Yuugi had aspired to attend what was known as an "Ivy League" school ever since he'd learned about them. The cream of the crop attended these schools, supposedly, and Yuugi was proud to be amongst them as an incoming freshman. He'd heard all about the city of Philadelphia, and had been very eager to come explore the downtown area with its quaint restaurants and lavish shops.

"This isn't quite what I had in mind," he muttered under his breath as he – nestled tightly within a crowd of pedestrians – crossed a busy street. Cars honked angrily as he hurried to reach the other side. It was comparable to Domino City, Yuugi supposed, but with way more cars and rude assholes driving them.

After much cursing and meek direction-asking, Yuugi finally crossed into a section of the city that seemed to be frozen in time. All of a sudden, there were no more cars. The buildings were ornate, like brick castles, and he found himself standing amongst a crowd of kids who looked just as overwhelmed as he was in the center of an enormous plaza. Students wearing blue and red shirts with megaphones were herding students off into the side buildings, and soon Yuugi was swept away towards the residential complex.

Freshman dorms, he quickly learned, were not the world's most luxurious places. His room was cramped, two beds, two dressers, and two desks being the only furniture in the room besides an air conditioner that looked as if it would fall apart at any moment. Yuugi grimaced at it as the cheerful student who had shown him in warned him to be back in the plaza in two hours for his orientation tour.

Still, he mused after she had left, the campus was beautiful, and he was thrilled to finally be at Penn! His dorm wasn't even that bad, he reasoned, it was historic!

It was as he was unpacking all of his neatly pressed polo shirts into one of his drawers that the door was flung open by a flustered looking boy, snowy white hair a tangled mess piled on top of his head in a sloppy bun. Just as quickly as he'd opened the door, he slammed it shut, leaning against it with considerable force. "Thank you for your help, but I need to be alone now! I'll call you tonight!" he called through the door.

A fist pounded from the other side a few times. "Come, Ryou, sweetheart, we want to help you!" A female voice, sickeningly sweet.

"I need to be by myself," the boy asserted, "You'll only make leaving that much harder."

The knocks on the door stopped, and the woman seemed to mull this over for a moment. "You'll call us right at eight, dear. We love you." Footsteps trailed away.

The boy looked at Yuugi for the first time and blushed deeply. "I'm so sorry; you must think I'm some sort of freak now. Sorry, I'm Ryou, but I guess you heard that. Sorry," he stammered.

Yuugi shook his head. "Not at all! Are you another Japanese student?"

Ryou cocked his head. "I guess so, but I've lived in Philly all my life with my parents. You just heard my mother outside." He shrugged. "She's kind of overbearing, but she means well."

"I just came from Japan this morning," Yuugi told him, continuing to fold his shirts, "Everything here is so loud and different."

Ryou chuckled. "On the streets, yeah, and when my mother goes off on one of her tirades, yeah, but it's not so bad all the other times. I guess we're roommates, then?" he asked tentatively.

Yuugi thought the answer was obvious, but he kept himself from saying so. Ryou seemed nice, and he wanted to make friends. "I suppose we are! I'm Yuugi Mutou."

Ryou smiled and walked further into the tiny room. His smile faltered as he looked around. "God, but it's cramped in here." He heaved his suitcase by the handle up onto his bed, clicking it open. The lid sprung up comically and clothes exploded out onto his bed. Yuugi watched in alarm, but Ryou didn't seem disturbed by it in the least. Yuugi looked down at his meticulously starched button-down shirts he was carefully folding. Apparently, there was a lot to learn about American life.

"Ryou," he started, beginning to go to work on putting his shoes under his bed, "I don't know if you know this, but we have orientation in two hours."

Ryou laughed at him. Pretty loudly, too. Yuugi was confused. Had he said something funny? "No, no, no, and no!" Ryou insisted as he flung t-shirts into piles in a horrifying mockery of separating his colors, "Not on your life are you going to orientation, Yuugi!"

"How else are we going to get to know the school?"

Ryou laughed again. "You're a funny kid, Yuugi."

Yuugi looked down at his neat line of shoes and then back up at Ryou, who had begun work on setting his laptop up on his desk, clothes still strewn all over his bed.

That night, instead of familiarizing himself with Penn's campus, Yuugi found himself going with Ryou all the way to downtown Philadelphia, to the Avenue of the Arts. They'd hopped on a subway for most of the journey, but when Yuugi had climbed up the stairs out of the terminal, he saw stars.

Not, like, real stars. You'd never see those in the city. No, what Yuugi saw were bright, colorful lights and happy, energetic people all around him. People were pouring in and out of shops that Ryou wouldn't let Yuugi step foot into. The theaters were just beginning to fill up for the evening's performances, and Yuugi was amazed at the life all around him. This wasn't Domino at all, oh no, this was something else entirely.

"Where are we going?" he asked Ryou for the third time tonight, hoping he might finally get more than just a vague answer.

"You'll see, Yuugi! I know this great place," Ryou answered, weaving expertly amongst the crowd, hand in Yuugi's to keep them from getting separated.

Yuugi's palm was sweaty. He wiped his free hand on the side of his dark, tailored jeans. God, he hoped he wasn't overdressed. Ryou was wearing frayed jeans with a hole in the knee, a dark t-shirt with some band logo on it, and a gray leather jacket over it. The closest Yuugi could come to being that casual was a dark muscle tank he never wore under normal circumstances underneath his own designer leather jacket. His jeans, from the same brand as his jacket, were a deep gray with subtle silver threading for dimension. They were his favorite pair, one he usually only wore on special occasions or when he needed a confidence boost.

Like right now, for example. Ryou had tugged him into a crowded, dim-lit lounge. The sign out front had read "The Purple Chrysanthemum". The interior was done up in dark woods and rich purple tapestries and tablecloths. A tiny candle rested on top of every table, casting the small room in a warm, organic glow. It was so beautiful, yet so unlike any place Yuugi had ever been in before. Yuugi perceived a general feeling of intimacy as he and Ryou crossed to a table near the front, close to a small stage with an ebony piano taking up most of the space on it. Two spotlights fully illuminated the instrument, the only well-lit spot in the venue. As they sat, a girl with a high ponytail and heavy eye makeup approached them to take their orders. Ryou ordered two glasses of red wine and flashed his I.D. at her, and she left.

Yuugi stared. Ryou smiled at him and leaned in. Over the dull roar of the other patrons, Ryou half-yelled, "I'm actually a junior."

"How'd you get put in a freshman dorm?" Yuugi asked.

"Not by choice, honestly," Ryou shrugged, "All the upperclassmen dorms were full, and this is only my second semester on campus, so I don't get priority housing. I transferred from West Chester last spring."

Yuugi nodded along, not for the first time amazed at his new roommate.

The waitress brought their glasses just as a man stepped up onto the stage and a hush fell over the lounge. "Evening, everybody," the man said, "We've got a real talented guy with us tonight. Please give a warm welcome to Yami Sennen."

Applause rippled through the crowd as another man took the host's place on the stage. Yuugi's breath caught in his throat. Tall, dark, and Gucci catalog gorgeous smiled humbly and bowed his head to the crowd as he seated himself at the piano. Long, pale fingers rested on the keys, and Yuugi took a bracing gulp of wine in time with the man's breath before he began to play a simple melody with intricate harmony lines that sounded like springtime.

Yuugi was swept away in the man, attention fully focused on the heavy-lidded eyes behind large, square frames and the long, dark lashes that fluttered with each swell of the song. His hair was sort of swooped to one side, looking at once professional yet flippant. It didn't quite cover the multiple stud piercings in his ear. The roots of his hair were a honey blond that darkened quickly to jet black. His fingers danced across the upper registers of the piano, tickling out a playful melody that matched the way his full lips drew upwards at the corners. In the dark, Yuugi couldn't tell exactly what fabric the man's clothes were, but they looked right on him. A light wash pair of skinny jeans, turned up twice at the ankle to draw attention to his leather loafers that were working the pedals of the instrument. A plain white t-shirt was covered by a dark blazer, bunched up to the elbows. Yuugi was close enough to see the muscles in his forearm tense and relax as he played.

He was completely spellbound. As the song ended, he raised his hands to clap politely, but everyone else in the lounge applauded raucously and cheered loudly for him. The man stood and bowed again. "Thanks, everyone," he rumbled in a rich bass that startled Yuugi with the way it seemed to resonate through his entire body. "So, I'm Yami Sennen. It's great to be here playing for you. If you don't mind, I'm going to do a few more," he suggested, drawing his tone up at the end as if in question. The crowd shouted encouragements in response, and Yami grinned a dazzling smile. "Excellent."

Excellent, thought Yuugi.

"Yuugi," Ryou whispered as Yami began to play again.

"Mmm?" he hummed in response, breaking his gaze away reluctantly to sip at his wine and look at Ryou.

"Listen, so I know the guy who owns this place, and he's good friends with this Yami guy," Ryou informed him with a knowing smile, "Not that I don't know the answer, but do you wanna party with them after his last set?"

Yuugi nodded furiously, and Ryou chuckled in response, returning his attention to Yami. Yuugi looked back also, but now his mind was racing with the possibilities of the night and also with sudden nerves. He'd never really been to a party before. Ryou would probably take care of him, but he had no idea how to act. All of a sudden, he was aware that tonight was the first night he would sleep in America, on a totally foreign continent, in a city full of strangers, thousands of miles away from Grandpa.

He felt homesickness like a physical tug on his heart, but resolutely swallowed it down and forced himself to bring his attention back to the present task at hand and the Adonis at the piano.

Before long, Yuugi found himself being ushered out onto the street by Ryou, who assured him that Yami and his other friends would be along as soon as the owner had turned his keys over to the waitresses who would close the place up for the night. The wind blew, tousling the strands of Yuugi's hair that weren't tucked up into his artfully messy bun, including some of the few strands that he'd dyed red and yellow shortly before leaving for America. He put his hands into the pockets of his jacket, having nothing else to do with them, and stared around him at the glow of the avenue at night. It had lost some of its appeal, however, as Yuugi couldn't stop thinking of Domino, of his grandfather's game shop, of his grandfather. His heart wrenched again, and he did his best to bury it, but he felt so adrift in the city, out in the open on the street with no one except for the eccentric roommate he'd only met hours before.

Yuugi didn't even notice when Yami joined them on the street. It was only when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder that he looked up into a pair of deep brown eyes – he swore there were flecks of crimson in them - and felt his heart leap up into his throat.

Ryou was introducing everyone. Yuugi was staring at Yami, who kept his hand on Yuugi's shoulder. He was speaking to the host from earlier. "Malik, this is my new friend Yuugi. Yuugi, this is my, erm, my friend Malik."

The host, a slim, tan blond with long, beach-wavy hair smiled at him. "Nice to meet you, Yuugi. Ryou and I go way back. What did you think of The Purple Chrysanthemum?"

Yuugi managed to tear his gaze away from Yami, whose eyes hadn't yet left his own. "I loved it! We've got nothing like that back home," he said, trailing off a bit at the end.

"And where's home?" Malik asked interestedly.

"Yuugi just got in this morning from Japan, didn't you, Yuugi?" Ryou declared excitedly, staring at Yuugi and winking.

"Wow! What brings you here, man?" Malik asked, but at that moment, another blond stepped out of the lounge, slamming the door shut behind him. He stalked over to Malik and ruffled his hair.

"Ready when you are, kiddo," he rumbled, voice even deeper than Yami's was.

"Marik, you know Ryou. And this is Yuugi, his new friend from Japan!" Malik introduced them.

And wasn't that just confusing? Malik, Marik. Yuugi stared, noticing that the two of them looked almost identical save for the fact that Marik was enormous. Like a bodybuilder or something. They even had the same tousled blond hair. And were wearing matching purple coats.

"The Ishtar's are twins," Ryou jumped in, "The Purple Chrysanthemum is a family business. And this is Marik's friend." He cast his gaze over to Yami, who had yet to remove his hand from Yuugi's shoulder. To his credit, Yuugi only looked a little bit like he was having an internal panic attack.

Marik laughed, slapping Yami on the back. "Yami, man, are you loaded or something? You're freaking that kid out."

Yami took his hand away and laughed. "Sorry about that. It's really good to meet you two," he said to Yuugi and Ryou, sweeping his eyes briefly over Ryou before landing squarely on Yuugi again.

Yuugi couldn't even appreciate it. He was staring up at the sky, blinking back tears.

Ryou crossed their little group to him, concern evident on his face. "Yuugi, what's wrong?"

"Um," Yuugi began, voice quivering, "I don't, um, I don't think I feel great, Ryou."

"Do you wanna go home?" Ryou asked, taking Yuugi's hand loosely in his.

Yuugi pulled away. "I think I'm going to go back. I know the way." His voice broke, and he inhaled sharply. "I, um, I hope you guys have fun." A single, fat tear rolled out of the corner of his eye. He turned his face to the side so the rest of the group wouldn't see, but Ryou was too close.

"I'm not going to let you go alone," Ryou declared, "What kind of friend would do that?" Shielding Yuugi with his own body from the rest of the group, still holding his hand, Ryou addressed Malik. "We're gonna head back. Thanks for inviting us out, Malik."

"No problem," Malik replied, voice quiet and understanding.

Ryou pulled Yuugi from the group, but not before they heard Yami call "wait".

Yuugi turned his head, and Yami had closed the distance. He enveloped Yuugi in a hug. "You're beautiful," he stated.

Marik tugged him away, laughing. "Yami, man, you are totally loaded. Dude, you have work tomorrow!"

He could still hear Marik's laughter after a block of walking, but he heard Yami's voice in his head long after they'd made it back to campus. I'm so lonely, Yuugi thought, and I'm scared, but I guess that's alright for tonight.