Yuugi treasures his Millennium Puzzle, an ancient Egyptian artifact that was brought into his grandfather's game shop. But most of all, Yuugi wishes for a true friend who understands him and would never betray him. Katsuya Jonouchi, who is almost always accompanied by his verbal sparring partner Hiroto Honda, doesn't seem like a bad person either, despite always bringing Yuugi trouble. His beautiful childhood friend, Anzu Mazaki, is always there to stand up for him, but he can't depend on her forever.
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He has never forgotten a single birthday of anyone he's ever met and is close to exceding the limit of possible contacts in his phone, so should the man ever end up in real trouble he absolutely knows who to call and how to get them to come fix this.Bullies often target someone frail and weak-someone exactly like Yuugi Mutou. His smile is genuine and charming and sweet enough that you'll explain the pH scale slowly and with appropriately small words for him.
He counteracts his lack of academic comprehension with a soical genius any confidence man would murder to have. He consistently had one gangly leg thrown over the desk or propped up on his backpack, the other folded in an origami-like position under him. Right down to the blonde hair that got in your jacket and total inability to sit in a chair like a Normal Human. Imagine a Golden Retriver, seated awkwardly in one of those wretched plastic desk-chair combos, staring at a board of chemical formulas and trying, trying so hard in the desperate and earnest way that all working dogs try, to understand even a bit of what was happening, and you will have something very close to what it was like to sit next to Joey Wheeler. Imagine if, in the Air Bud movies, the school had insisted that if the dog wanted to be a student athlete, that he be a student as well as an athlete, and attend classes. The teacher called on him, and he looked up at her with a politely guiless expression that could easily be mistaken for a Customer Service Smile (TM), but something about the sustained eye contact and faint tilt of his head put more observant people in mind of something vaugely. If he was going to study for the test, he'd recall more about the lecture by lookng at the second. Two notebooks open on his desk- one with paltry notes on the Teapot Dome Scandal they were supposed to be studying, the other, much more detailed containing notes about crad draw probablility curves and drawings of wizards. His shoes, untied, dangled a few inches from the floor because the high school desk was sized for someone who had spent their puberty getting tall instead of getting shoved into lockers. He was technically five feet tall but at least six inches of that was a red-tinted black and splash of blonde hair whose vertical nature had stumped over a dozen barbers so far. Near the front of the classroom sat Yugi Moto, who was as close as someone could become to being one of those brightly colored plush animals you win at the carnival while still being human.