Chapter Text
Atem stared down at the microphone all but shoved up his nose with an air of contempt.
His fingers clenched around the cup of coffee in his hands tightly enough he was worried about crushing it. He really should have just made himself a cup back at his place like Mahad kept telling him to do. It just never tasted as good when he made it himself.
And now he was paying the price of his hubris for daring to leave the relative safety of his apartment.
“Mr. Sennen, what brings you out here today?” one of the reporters asked, the one who seemed to think that the closer the microphone was to his face the better the answer would be.
Atem leveled him with a flat, blank look, “Coffee,” he said as bland and dry as toast with no butter. The reporter stammered as if only just realizing that they had all accosted him stepping out of a simple café. The microphone was pulled away only for a recorder to take its place a moment later.
Neutral face, calm and collected. Don’t give them anything you don’t want them to have.
They’ve already taken enough of you.
“Mr. Sennen, how are you preparing for the upcoming Regionals?”
Atem swallowed back a sigh, “By getting coffee.” He wiggled the quickly cooling drink in his hand for emphasis. He longed to duck away from this sooner rather than later. Where was Mahad when he needed him for a quick escape?
That’s right, he was enjoying his day off. Which Atem was supposed to be doing as well, but no, he can afford any luxury except for privacy it seemed. He’d be as bitter as his coffee, if he didn’t prefer it a tad on the sweet side.
“You look tired, has the anxiety of trying to maintain your title for the tenth year in a row begun to get to you?”
“No, I probably look tired because I haven’t had my coffee yet,” Atem replied, biting his tongue to try and not sound as annoyed as he felt. But he knew from experience that no matter what he said, no matter how carefully he schooled his features, something would come out of this that he hadn’t intended. He didn’t even know why he bothered at all anymore.
A few more questions were thrown at him carelessly, and he tried to let their voices flow over him as if they were water over an unmovable stone. At least until one particularly shrill voice broke through with the first question that actually stood out from the rest.
“Mr. Sennen, what are your thoughts on Yugi Mutou?”
Atem froze, mostly just because after so many years of being asked the same questions over and over, this one was the first of its kind. He found himself caught off guard as he blinked over at the tiny blonde reporter who held a notepad in her hands and had a pen tucked behind her ear, how very old fashioned of her.
What is a Yugi Mutou, some kind of mixed drink?
“Am I supposed to know what that is?” he asked in a bored tone, already lamenting the time he’d already lost in getting trapped by this latest batch of reporters. Honestly though, outside his favorite café? Now he’d have to find another one to frequent that didn’t mess up his admittedly complicated order. And this one had been so conveniently close to his apartment...
“Yugi was last year’s Junior Champion title winner,” she supplied with a wide grin.
Atem blinked, now officially done with the conversation, “I have not followed the junior division since I was in the junior division,” he dismissed, all interest lost again.
But it seemed she wasn’t done as she moved a step closer, her eyes narrowing into something sharper, “Were you aware then that last night he beat Seto Kaiba for the title of Regionals Champion for Eastern Asia?”
And his interest flickered to life once more.
No, no he had not been aware. Of course, he’d known the regionals that his number one rival was a part of were concluding last night. He’d chosen to go to bed early rather than watch, having already given up on anything exciting happening during the finals. Kaiba always won after all, and with the same tactics he'd been harping on for years. But now it seemed Atem had been wrong about that. A shame he missed it live, but he could always look up a video later of Seto’s face as he was trounced by someone other than Atem for once. Perhaps he should pick up popcorn to snack on while doing so.
Although that would mean he’d have to risk going out again and having reporters ask him why he was buying popcorn. Would it even be worth it at that point?
“What does Yugi’s rise in the ranks mean for you and the World Tournament next year, Mr. Sennen?” she asked, breaking him from his thoughts again.
He met her gaze unwaveringly.
“Just because this Yugi kid was able to beat Seto Kaiba does not mean that he can beat me. Or have you all learned nothing from the last nine years?” he scoffed, narrowing his gaze to angry slits as flashes of cameras started to erupt around him. His fingers curled around the scribbled marks on his coffee cup. The last thing he wanted was an article to appear tomorrow listing his preferred coffee order and where to get it, while another painted an ugly picture of a spoiled celebrity with picky tastes. The picky part may have been partially true, but no one needed to know that.
“As of now, Yugi means nothing to me. Now, if you would excuse me, I have plans I am now late for,” he snapped when one reporter got just a little too close to his elbow. He pulled away from the microphones and began to push his way through the dense collection of cameras and recording tech all pointed at him.
His scowl deepened as he finally broke free, and he hurried down the street to where his car was parked before they could catch up. He knew of course that a few would make an attempt to follow him to find out where he was headed, but thanks to Mahad, Atem knew how to lose tails when necessary.
At least he would have his coffee to keep him company for however long it took to shake them off. He just hoped it hadn’t gotten cold being held against his will.
As he pulled away from the curb, his mind finally allowed him to actually think about this ‘Yugi Mutou’. Had Kaiba finally lost his touch? Or was there something more to the latest up and comer?
Perhaps he had lied a little when telling the reporter that Yugi’s rise meant nothing. Atem did not expect, although maybe he hoped, for a challenge after so long. This could just be a fluke easily too though, and this truly would mean nothing to him. Yugi could lose the title back to Kaiba in next season’s Regionals and nothing would have changed for Atem.
Yes, this truly could mean nothing in the long run.
But part of him wondered if it meant that maybe...just maybe, it would mean things would get interesting once more.
He still wanted that popcorn though. Perhaps he’d call Mahad and have him bring it by later.