A/N: Because neither Shizuka nor Haga would let me rest until I'd dealt with what happened to their other halves.

With or Without You – U2

Dinosaur Ryuzaki was having a bad century.

It went beyond a bad day, a bad week, a bad month or even a bad year. After everything that had happened to him – rising in the public eye during the Japanese Duel Monsters Championships, being pipped at the post by Insector Haga, falling into disrepute at Duellist Kingdom and Battle City, falling in with the wrong crowd with Paradias, and then finally falling into complete obscurity – he was now entering the last phase of the falling star: the crash landing.

Emphasis on crash.

"Yaaaaargh!"

He hurtled into the bike rack, tucking in his head and legs to protect them. One of the bikes fell on top of him and he struggled to get out from under it, fingers catching painfully in the spokes. His left wrist was molten with agony, but somehow he flung it off and got his feet. He took off down the alley, and thankfully he wasn't followed. He could hear the laughter of his tormentors echoing even more than his own feet or laboured breathing.

"Bastards," he hissed, leaning up against a wall. His wrist burned and he couldn't clench his hand into anything resembling a fist. He shut his eyes, willing himself not to splurge his breakfast over the asphalt – and, inevitably, his sneakers. "Ooourgh …"

"Hey!"

His eyes snapped open. "Not again." He ran, but this time he was followed.

"Wait!"

"Like hell! Leave me alone!"

"I said wait!" Whoever it was, he was faster than Ryuzaki, and not above tackling him to the ground. They went down hard, rolling over a couple of times before fetching up against a wall.

Ryuzaki cried out like a wounded animal at the pain in his wrist.

"Aw, shit," said the body on top of him. "If you'd just stopped when I said, I wouldn't have hurt you. I didn't break it, did I?"

The hell? Since when did street punks care enough to say stuff like that? "Mmrrf … not you …" it was over. He was done, and he knew it. Ryuzaki was near-blind with pain and couldn't get up to fight back or flee this time. He curled into a ball in case the bastard was a kicker, cradling his wrist against his chest. It felt broken, not that he was any expert. Anyhow, with the way his luck was running it wouldn't be his only broken bone today.

"Those guys by the bikes did it? Aw, man … here, get up. Or … not. Crap, you're pretty beat up."

"They thought it was funny … just my luck … everyone thinks it's funny to kick guys like me around … Haga would've usually had my back."

"So where is he?"

This guy knew Haga? Unless he was the reason Ryuzaki hadn't seen him lately. Haga hadn't much liked Ryuzaki's idea that they could start over on the Duel Monsters circuit and get back to their former glory that way. It'd be just his luck if he was cursing his friend out for disappearing in a sulk while Haga lay in a hospital bed – or a bluebottle bed in a dumpster. "Fucked off somewhere. Haven't seen him in weeks."

"I know." This was said tightly.

So you are the reason I haven't seen my bud in forever. Bastard. I should kick your ass. If I could breathe enough to do it … "So aren't you gonna get in a few kicks of your own?"

"You kidding me? I'm not -"

"Orrugh … thinkI'mgonnabesick-"

"You need to see a doctor. Hang on, I have a phone."

"Good for you." Ryuzaki blinked. Through the pounding in his ears that voice sounded terribly familiar. His mental rolodex flipped a few times without his permission. Oh no, I didn't just get body slammed by –

"Hey, I think I need an ambulance."

Yes I did.

This just kept getting better and better – abandoned by his so-called friend, beat up by a gang of freaking pickpockets with an attitude problem, and then turned into the princess to Katsuya Jounouchi's knight in shining armour.

Forget bad century, Ryuzaki was having a bad millennium.