Yami sighed as Yugi did, so the sound was in stereo. Yugi's mother was a wonderful woman, really, but she made him nervous in ways he didn't ever recall being. It was strange. Whether it was residual feelings from Yugi or just that natural respect a mother demands, Yami didn't know. But she had presence.

A lot of it.

Yami wriggled his wrist in Yugi's grip to hold his hand instead, and let himself be led into the room to find some clothes that would fit him. Unless Yugi got his height from his father -which Yami doubted, considering Sugoroku's appearance- he was going to be swimming in just about anything they found until they could get clothes more appropriate for him. He was bigger than Yugi, yes, but still pretty short for a boy his age.

...what age was he, anyway? The same as Yugi? He wasn't even sure how to measure it. Sometimes he felt like a teenager, and sometimes he felt older than time. It was a fluctuating thing.

Are we going to tell her about our link? Yami asked as Yugi bustled about locating his father's clothes.