As the massive doors opened and the airport finally gave way to the city, Zahra drew in a breath of fresh air and almost sighed in relief.
Finally. Air that hadn't been recycled, reheated, and forced back through the same tired vents — and she dragged it in greedily.
She lifted her coffee, letting the steam brush her face—then promptly started coughing.
"Damn it," she muttered, blinking through the sting in her throat. Big-city air really was different.She had always thought Mrs Goodtree was exaggerating when she said 'nothing beats the fresh, suburban air'.
Behind her came a padded crash, followed quickly by an exasperated groan from a man.
Zahra looked behind her. The old man who was sitting next to her on the plane was scratching his head in confusion, as his wife looked on and chuckled to herself.
"I told you, they need to sit flush on each other, otherwise they'll fall."
"They were on flush, woman," he gestured to a rather large case that fell lopsided on the floor.
A second case slid right off the other side as if in response and skated towards his feet. She was sure she heard a metallic clang as it hit the floor.
His wife raised her brows from her wheelchair; nothing else needed to be said.
The man bent to retrieve them, shifting his weight carefully, like he didn't quite trust his knee anymore.
As she glanced again, the woman's skin was pale enough to look almost translucent, the thin tubing at her nose barely visible against it.
Zahra felt a shiver. She held out a hand and jumped a few steps until she was with them.
"Please, sir, let me help you with these," she said, dumping her bag and taking the case from him, giving him no time to process or protest.
"Thank you, little lady," she felt him wince as she grabbed for the second case. "Please be careful with that one, it has my wife's medical equipment in it."
Zahra lifted it slightly; its wheels helped skim it to the trolley. The weight hit her instantly.
"Whoa," she said in shock. "What kind of equipment do you have in here?" Zahra felt the embarrassment burn her cheeks. How rude of her. Mrs Goodtree would have something to say about that.
"Oh, please don't worry deary," she gave a trembling smile. "It's just an oxygen tank and lots of 'just in case' bits and bobs."
"Bits and bobs that keep you alive, Yuki."
"Oh, calm down Hiro." She waved a dismissive hand at his concern. "You really do go on."
Zahra finished placing the cases on the trolley. Flush. Just like Yuki said.
"Well, you certainly do have a young person's strength," Hiro said as she made sure they were aligned enough not to fall again. "You must work out."
Hiro chuckled to himself.
"Uh- yeah. That's right. Thanks." She wasn't ready to discuss anything about herself right now.
She quickly offered to carry the equipment outside to a taxi so they wouldn't have to worry about damaging it, and when they got outside, there was a small van that looked somewhat like an ambulance.
"Ah, right on time." Hiro waved to the driver and headed over.
It was puzzling, to say the least. It made sense that someone who may be quite medically ill would have specialised transport, but she had never seen a taxi quite like this one before.
"Where are you headed to, deary?" Yuki asked, as Zahra gently placed the luggage on the floor for the driver to put away.
"Um, to the city," she said bluntly.
She had nothing else to add.
Where am I to start? Doubts crept into her mind.
It must have shown on her face, as Yuki placed a cold, trembling hand on her in comfort.
"Why don't you come with us? We'll give you a lift to where you're staying. It's no trouble."
She was polite, but firm.
Suddenly, Zahra was bundled into their taxi and told to put on her seatbelt.
The journey was uneventful; there was nothing to see around the airport.
When they entered the city, the streets were full of the hustle and bustle of everyday life. All across the billboards and screens were assorted adverts for Duel Monster merchandise, skin care and cat appreciation.
The further they moved into the city, the more uneasy Zahra became. It wasn't anxiety or doubt; she felt all those emotions well enough on her journey here. This was a deep, looming feeling of dread in her gut; it made her eyes dart and analyse a little more than usual.
She shifted in her chair, and an uncomfortable feeling kept creeping over her.
The taxi rolled to a stop at a red light, and that was when she saw it.
The largest screen on the street, blazing above the shops — Duel Monsters merchandise, and a young man staring out over the city with fierce, unwavering eyes.
Her breath caught.
I know him!
She lurched forward, pressing her palms to the glass. "S–Seto?"
Her mind felt like it was working overtime. Thoughts were scrambled, tripping over themselves. None of this made sense. None of it should be familiar—
The image flickered.
Another man appeared, arms folded, a confident smirk tugging at his lips that made her swallow hard. Tri-coloured hair. Sharp eyes. The same presence she had felt in her dreams.
A chill traced her spine.
The words blazed beneath him:
KING OF GAMES! YUGI MOTO
Something in her scoffed reflexively. King of Games? He's never beaten me at chess.
Then her head throbbed, sudden and sharp, and she winced.
As the taxi began to move again, her gaze snagged on the golden prism hanging from his neck. The eye at its centre seemed to glint—just once—
She made eye contact with it instantly, as though she was drawn to it.
And the world shifted.
He was no longer on the screen. He was right in front of her.
He was so close. So close.
Close enough that she could see the warmth in his skin, the steady strength in his gaze. That familiar, impossible presence that made her chest ache.
His royal gaze.
His expression softened, just slightly. A smile meant only for her.
She knew it; nothing would tell her otherwise.
Her vision blurred. Tears welling for something that had never truly gone out.
A flame that still burns. A hunt yet to conclude.
She lifted her hand, fingers trembling, reaching—
And his face twisted.
The warmth vanished, replaced by something sharp and wrong. His hair bleached to a wild, silver mane. That gentle smile stretched into a grin that made her stomach drop.
Laughter scraped through her mind, cruel and echoing.
She recoiled, breath stalling in her chest. Everything felt wrong. Who are you?
The dread she had been fighting all day surged up her throat.
This was wrong. Whatever he was, he was the opposite of everything she trusted. Everything she stood for—
Or thought she did.
"Memorising isn't it? The city streets. I'm from a small town myself."
Zahra jerked back to herself, barely stopping her forehead from colliding with the window. Her heart hammered like she'd been running, not sitting in a taxi.
Hiro chuckled beside her, giving her shoulder a gentle nudge. "We're here at our shop. Why don't you come in for a hot drink before you head off? Our way of saying thank you."
Zahra pushed the hair out of her eyes. "Sure. That would be lovely."
She smiled, grateful to be free of that dream. Vision. Whatever it had been. Out of the storm of emotions still churning in her chest, she clung to one small comfort: she had a name.
The smell of disinfectant hit her as soon as she stepped inside, sharp and clinical; her tongue felt thick with it. The place was spotless — surgically clean. You could eat off any surface, even the streak-free windows.
"We're a specialist travel agency," Hiro said proudly as he shuffled past with some of the baggage and disappeared into the back room.
The driver followed with the medical equipment, manoeuvring the heavy case through the doorway with impressive care, not even brushing the frame.
A travel agent? She mused, glancing around.
The office was larger than she'd expected. Two modest desks faced one another, small computer screens perched on each — one clearly used far more than the other. Bookshelves lined the walls, crowded with glossy magazines advertising far-off places: turquoise seas, white beaches, snow-capped mountains, all begging to be explored. The upper shelves sagged under the weight of older brochures, their spines faded and frayed. Lower down, the books grew newer, thicker, more serious — still colourful, but stamped with words like medical, protocol, and emergency.
She couldn't help but run her fingers along the spines as she wandered further in.
On the far wall, near the back room, something caught her eye.
Photographs. Dozens of them, covering the wall from edge to edge. Smiling faces. Families. Groups of travellers. Every picture shared a quiet detail — a wheelchair, a white tube, some small piece of medical equipment woven into the scene.
Then she saw two familiar faces.
Hiro and Yuki.
Hiro looked much younger, his hair thick and black, his grin wide and unguarded. Yuki stood beside him, pale, her eyes already tired, though she wore far less equipment than she did now. Still young. Still smiling. Too thin.
Zahra felt her heart sink. She must have been ill for some time.
The rest of the wall shifted further back in time. Older frames. Black-and-white photographs of a young couple, vibrant and fearless, their joy so bright it was impossible not to feel it. A man with unruly dark hair and a mischievous grin. A woman with long, glossy hair and eyes full of wonder.
They stood in jungles, before ancient temples, beside waterfalls, at the edge of vast oceans and then—
Pyramids.
Something about that image made her breath hitch. The sand. The golden stone rising behind them. A strange, nostalgic familiarity, like retracing a path she'd once known by heart.
Her gaze lingered on the man standing with them — not Hiro. His eyes held a fierce determination that she thought she knew.
Her pulse quickened.
Then the room tilted.
It felt as if something had hooked into her chest and yanked. Her heart thundered in her ears, the air knocked clean from her lungs.
Oh no. Not again.
Her feet refused to move.
She was being pulled toward the picture, whether she wanted to be or not.
Don't fight it…
But her body practically screamed to.
"That's Hiro and me, when we went to Egypt… back in the sixties."
Air rushed back into Zahra's lungs. The pressure in her chest released all at once, like the moment a sneeze vanishes before it comes. She turned, pulse still skidding, and found Yuki standing by the counter, cradling a steaming cup in both hands.
There was a softness in her expression as though she yearned for times past.
"We used to run adventure holidays," Yuki said gently. "People would come from all over for tailored trips. We travelled everywhere — it was good for business to see the places ourselves, to build relationships with the guides and excursion leaders." She smiled faintly. "We were much younger then, of course."
"Then… you got sick?" Zahra asked quietly.
The pieces slid into place.
Yuki nodded. "Then I got sick," she took a bigger sip of her tea and an equally deep sigh came after. "At first, Hiro wanted to pack everything away — the photos, the brochures, all of it. But I couldn't bring myself to let it go. Not the business. Not the memories." Her gaze drifted around the room, her smile tinged with something bittersweet. It was the same smile Zahra had seen on Mrs Goodtree's face — loving, brave, and aching all at once."So now we specialise in travel for people with medical needs. We haven't touched the adventure brochures in years…"
A weary silence took hold as she sipped again.
"Then it was years… and now I only have months left. But I like knowing they're still there. Just in case."
Yuki gave her a small wink, though her eyes told a different story.
Zahra tried to hold back any inclination that she might pity her. She hated seeing pity on people's faces.
"Why don't I make you that coffee?"
Guilt pricked at Zahra's chest. She hadn't meant to pry — hadn't meant to pull at old scars. Still, she followed Yuki into the kitchen, just in case she needed help.
Everything was arranged with careful precision. Cups, kettle, sugar — all within easy reach. Even a small fridge sat on the counter so Yuki wouldn't have to bend.
Yuki opened a jar, frowned. "Oh — empty. I'm sure we've got more in the cupboard."
She opened a cupboard door, and reached up on her toes, stretching for a larger jar above her head.
"Let me—" Zahra started.
But Yuki's knees buckled.
The jar slipped from her fingers as her body folded in on itself.
Zahra lunged forward, catching Yuki around the waist with one arm while her other hand snatched the falling jar from the air. The impact jarred through her, sharp and sudden.
"Goodness — Yuki, are you alright?"
Yuki's eyes were wide, unfocused, as though she'd been struck by something unseen. Confusion clouded her features.
Instantly, Zahra moved her hands away. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to grab you so hard. I just— I didn't want you to fall. Please, go sit down. I'll finish up here."
Yuki ran a trembling hand through her hair and managed a thin smile. "I'm fine… I think." She let Zahra guide her toward the chair. "Just… clumsy today, that's all."
But something about the way she looked at her — searching, unsettled — made Zahra's stomach twist.
"Thank you for the tea," Hiro said, draining the last of his cup, barely waiting for it to cool before sinking back into his padded armchair. He had just finished explaining all the changes they'd made to the building, turning the downstairs into a living space and bedroom for Yuki.
Yuki herself had been quiet ever since her near-miss in the kitchen.
"So," Hiro said, glancing at Zahra, "where are you headed in Domino City?"
Zahra blew on her steaming cup. "I'm looking for someone."
"Ah, you have family here?"
"Not quite." She rubbed the back of her neck and took a sip, stalling. For some reason, she felt embarrassed admitting she was searching for someone with no idea where to start. "He's more like… an old friend."
"That's nice," Yuki said, finally breaking her silence. "You must have known him a long time to call him that, especially at your age. What's his name?"
Zahra took another sip, the warmth and caffeine finally settling her nerves. "Yugi Moto."
Hiro and Yuki both stiffened.
"Yugi Moto?" Yuki brightened instantly. "As in, the King of Games, Yugi Moto?"
"Y—yes," Zahra said, startled by the sudden enthusiasm. "Do you know him?"
"Well, not him exactly," Hiro said, setting his empty cup on the side table, "but we do know his grandfather. Solomon."
"Solomon was the other man in the picture you were looking at earlier," Yuki added. "The one from Egypt."
"And I'm fairly sure Yugi's been living with him," Hiro said.
"Really?" Zahra breathed.
"He must be helping Solomon in the shop after school or something," Yuki added.
The two of them fell into easy chatter, reminiscing about Solomon and how long it had been since they'd last seen either of them.
Zahra's jaw slowly dropped. No wonder that photo felt familiar.
"Do you know where I can find him?" she asked, excitement rising into her voice.
"Of course," the couple chorused, both looking faintly offended that she'd even questioned it.
"Here, I'll get the address book," Yuki said. "Hiro's hopeless with memory and directions."
"Woman, I remember every scrap of knowledge I've ever picked up," Hiro protested. "How many countries did I navigate us through? Ruins, deserts, jungles—this noggin's a steel trap."
"Really?" Yuki said dryly, opening a drawer in the sideboard. "Then where's Solomon's shop?"
Hiro folded his arms with a huff. "I knew you had it written down somewhere, so I didn't need to remember it."
Zahra laughed along with Yuki. It felt like ages since she'd been in a place that felt so… warm. The kind of banter born from long love and quiet dependence. Two halves of a perfect whole.
"Here," Yuki said, handing her a small scrap of paper.
Zahra folded it carefully and slipped it into her jacket pocket, only then noticing how much heavier Yuki's breathing had become.
"Thank you," Zahra said softly. "You have no idea how much this means to me. How much help you've both been to me."
Yuki waved it off as she settled back into her chair and adjusted her medical equipment.
"And you've no idea how much help you were to us," Hiro said. "It would've taken ages to get all that equipment set up for Yuki on our own."
Zahra glanced over as Yuki fitted the clear mask over her nose and mouth and nodded quietly.
Only then did Zahra realise how much time had passed. She'd arrived early that morning — now the sky outside was already beginning to darken.
"It's getting late," Yuki said. "If you've nowhere to go, why don't you stay in the spare room upstairs? We can take you to Solomon's shop in the morning."
Zahra blinked, stunned by the offer. Truth be told, she'd been quietly panicking about where she'd end up sleeping tonight.
"That would be… really amazing," she said, voice thick with gratitude
Hiro led Zahra upstairs to her room for the night.
Yuki slipped the mask from her face and slowly rose from her chair. She drew in a careful breath and felt the air fill her lungs.
Once. Twice. Three times.
No coughing.
No sharp burn in her chest.
She crossed to the window and lifted her eyes to the moon and scattered stars. It had been so long since breathing had felt this easy — without the stabbing pain, without the desperate, wracking cough that always followed.
Her gaze drifted down to her hands. She opened and closed her fingers, slowly, testing.
The ache that had lived in her joints for years was… fading. Not gone, but distant. Muted. Almost shy.
What happened when she touched me?
There was no other explanation. It had to be Zahra. Nothing had ever helped before — not pills, not injections, not prayers.
And yet, the moment that girl had caught her, there had been a flash of pain, sharper than anything she'd felt in years…
Then warmth.
A strange, floating calm.
Like morphine, but without the fog that always followed.
All evening, she hadn't felt herself weakening the way she usually did. No creeping heaviness in her limbs. No tightness in her chest. She hadn't even felt the need for her oxygen again.
It wasn't that she believed herself cured; she wasn't that foolish, but it had been a long time since she had felt the familiar exhaustion pressing her toward bed before the sun had even set.
Footsteps crossed the office floor, light and cheerful.
"Zahra's all settled in," Hiro called as he came up behind her. "I gave her a spare key, in case she needs to pop to the shop down the road."He paused. "Yuki? You're off the oxygen already. Are you feeling all right?"
His worry, as always, softened her.
Ever since the day they'd met, he'd doted on her. And when she'd fallen ill, that devotion had only deepened.
She turned, rose onto her toes, and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.
"I'm feeling better than ever," she said quietly.
This time, it was his turn to stare at her in disbelief — and then, slowly, to smile.
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Hello reader!
Can I get some love for Hiro and Yuki!
I ADORE this pair <3
Again, big thanks for staying with me.
Hope you're all well! Hope everything is going well for you.
Let me know your thoughts with a comment, or perhaps a thumbs up?
A 5* review wouldn't go amiss either *wink*
And add to your library so you don't miss the next update... Part Two! (Obviously!)
Big love,
Lauren xxx