Gah, would you believe Joey's the reason this chapter took so long to get out? I had the first two parts typed up weeks ago, and they were written even before that. I only just finished writing the last part last night. It stinks, really, because by the time I actually got around to writing it, I couldn't remember what he and Yugi were supposed to be talking about.

And on that note . . . I keep losing my muse for this story. And my timeline bit the dust with this chapter, so I don't have that any more, and couldn't find it before that. If I mess up any of the time, please tell me. And let me know what you think of Joey, ok? Yugi and Yami I'm pretty comfortable writing, but Joey and Honda give me fits.

So, yeah. . . . If you have any problems or questions with this chapter or any of the others, let me know. Please. You might think they're nothing or stupid, but it's entirely possible that it's a point I've overlooked or forgotten. I think I'm generally pretty good about remembering what happened where and when but I've been having trouble with it on this story—the fault of my vanishing muse, I think. And thank you everyone for your patience. Schools the pits, but it's necessary. Though,I mighthave more time to write now.Anyway, read on. Read on and enjoy, if you will.

Chapter 6

Yugi opened his eyes and didn't move. Curled up on his side beneath the covers, he could almost imagine there was a warm weight at his back. Almost.

He didn't need to look to know Yami was gone. Closing his eyes, he sighed. Truly, he had expected the once-spirit to be gone come morning, so why did he feel disappointed? Why did he wish the other would come back and wrap his arms around him, instead of just perching rigidly on the side? He didn't understand it, unless . . . maybe it was a desire for the closeness they had shared before, when the darkling was a constant presence in the back of his mind?

It was mildly disturbing to think about. Because if that was true, and he was craving Yami's presence, his touch, then that meant he had become dependent on his other, even after all his efforts to the contrary. He frowned at the thought of his weakness, the last couple days playing mockingly before his eyes. Was that the cause of all the tears? A psychologically driven need for his "other self?"

A new thought opened his eyes in surprise and he stared at the wall blankly. If he needed to be near Yami because of how close they had been before, and how long they had been together, was it possible Yami's strange behavior was a product of his need to be near Yugi, complicated by his love for Anzu?

Never before had it occurred to him to think of other people like a drug, but maybe. . . . Was it possible to become so used to another's presence, close and constant, that losing that level of contact left a craving for its return? Rather like an addict long for his next fix.

Yugi frowned at the comparison. Everything he had ever been taught labeled drugs and drug users and anything associated with either as "bad" and he resisted—resented—the implication that wanting Yami's company was bad. There was nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with one's friends, after all, so why should he feel bad? He had Yami had been together constantly for three years through one life and death adventure after another. Of course he would miss his company!

He sighed again, an aggravated hiss, and rolled onto his back, flinging out his arm. Yes, of course he missed his other self. The spirit had been the one who was always there, ready with an encouraging word just when he needed it, always ready and willing to help or protect when he got in trouble—any kind of trouble at all. And he had even been able to help the other, too. They had been there for each other, true friends through everything.

So how much worse would it have to be for Yami? Yugi had been the first person he met—for a long time he had been the only person the darkling truly knew, possessing no memories of his previous life, and the only one Yami could interact with on a regular basis. For three years, his life had revolved around Yugi. What must it be like for him, to suddenly have that taken away?

Yugi was sure he was glad to have his freedom and independence back. But could there be a part of him that missed what he had been accustomed to? He had never thought about it before, but now he wondered: did a prisoner, after being freed from his chains, sometimes wish for the shackles he had grown accustomed to? Did he desire their familiarity, no matter how much he might have detested them?

It was a concept he found strangely nebulous, unable to decide on a satisfactory answer within his mind. He couldn't pin down a comparable experience to set his theory against, so he was forced to abandon it. Maybe he could pose it to Yami later? Maybe; if Yami wasn't in one of his moods. If the atmosphere was right.

This decided (to his peace of mind) Yugi turned his head to see how much longer he had before he had to get up to open the Game Shop. It took a moment for the glowing numbers to make sense in his mind. But when they did, he shot up.

"No!"

Horrified, he snatched at the plastic box, but the numbers didn't change, even with him staring at them hard bare inches before his eyes. 7:55, it was seven fifty-five! He was supposed to open the shop at eight! Why hadn't hic alarm clock gone off at six like it was supposed to? His thumb pushed against the lever that turned it on and off, but it didn't move, already firmly in place. Had he forgotten to turn in on? Had he turned it off without waking up and simply gone back to sleep?

7:56.

"Shit!"

Yugi dropped the clock, flung the covers back and stumbled out of bed. He began frantically picking through his clothes, carelessly flinging aside anything he didn't want—too dirty, too dirty, ripped, smelly—his mind whirling a mile a minute over everything he had to do and should do and couldn't do—

He needed a shower, to use the bathroom, brush his teeth, fix his hair, make breakfast, restock te shelves, fill the register, take inventory, sweep the floor, sweep the sidewalk, dust the shelves, the counter. . . . He was sure he was forgetting something but gave it up when he tripped trying to hop into his pants; he squirmed into them while on the floor and quickly shoved his head through the neck of his t-shirt. He nearly ripped holes in the shirt punching his arms through the sleeves, but it was on and he was out of the room before the cloth settled around his waist He had forgotten socks, but he dismissed them, pounding rapidly down the stairs.

Two minutes. That had taken two minutes. Maybe he could restock the shelves before it was time to open. There couldn't be that many things to put out, and he could always set the register after the door was opened. That was just a matter of sorting the bills and recording the numbers. Hardly ideal but it would work. Grandpa—

Yugi froze at the bottom of the short flight of stairs, just inside the store, one shoe on his foot, the other still in hand. Dimly aware the lights were on when they shouldn't have been, he stared at the real reason he had stopped, his mouth hanging slightly open in a question that never made it to his lips.

Yami was already behind the counter, calmly counting out money and setting it in the slots, making a tally after each stack in the open book beside him. He didn't seem to notice Yugi's presence until he reached for a roll of quarters; then he looked up in surprise, blinking at the shorter boy like he was an apparition. "Ah—morning, Yugi."

A slightly perplexed frown followed the greeting (did he expect Yugi to do something?) and then he went back to filling the register, deftly knocking the coins into their tray then moving on to the next batch. The shorter youth just stared, hands slowly drifting to his side, before glancing around uncertainly.

From where he was, he could just make out a pair of collapsed boxes that hadn't been there yesterday. The shelves were all full, neat and clean. The floor was swept. He couldn't see out the door (which was unlocked though the sign still read 'closed') it was a fair bet that the walk was clear, too. His gaze drifted from the door back to the tanned being behind the counter dressed casually in black jeans and a red short-sleeved tee, wild hair pulled back in a low tail, minus the usual leather accessories with only a flat gold necklace hanging to mid-chest, and couldn't believe his eyes.

Nervous, tapping his shoe jerkily, he glanced back up the short stairway into the house. Was this maybe a dream? One of those weird stress-dreams that played out one's fears and he would wake up in a panic hours before he actually needed to get up? Yeah, that was it. He would wake up and Yami would still be beside him, maybe close enough to put his arm around over his waist, and he could laugh at himself and go back to sleep. Yeah, that had to be it.

"Yugi? Something wrong?"

He turned to see Yami halfway between the door and the counter, apparently walking back from flipping the sign, though he changed direction the moment he saw Yugi's face, the concern on his own deepening as he moved closer. "Yugi?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?"

Yugi blinked. "Hu—oh, yeah. Yea, I'm, I'm fine. Just fine." He discretely raised his hand to pinch the inside of his arm near the elbow and started badly when it hurt a lot. But he didn't wake up and his confusion grew. He blinked again. Yami still looked worried. "What are you doing?"

Yami's only visible reaction was to arch a fine eyebrow. "I'm minding the store," he said mildly.

Yugi frowned. "I'm supposed to do that."

"Actually, you're supposed to go get dressed to go out with Joey."

"What?" He continued staring at his other, though Yami seemed to have forgotten his concern. He smirked before turning to walk back to the counter and take up his position behind it.

He spoke off-handedly over his shoulder as he walked. "Joey called for you this morning, wanting to know if you could go out somewhere today. As you were still sleeping, I took the liberty of assuring him you could."

"But—"

"He'll be here in about thirty minutes, young one. So I suggest you go get ready so Joey doesn't have to stand around waiting after the fact. I don't think Grandpa would take exception to it."

And he would. Yugi smiled wanly at the reference, remembering the time Joey had broken a priceless Egyptian artifact while poking around the house waiting for him to get ready. Grandpa had been furious.

He frowned. "But weren't you and Anzu going out today?" Yugi tried to read the expression that suddenly flitted across Yami's face, but the other looked down before he could catch more than a glimpse.

He bent to look for something beneath the counter, and said, "Anzu has a dance tryout today on the other side of town. We're going out tonight after I close the Shop."

It occurred to Yugi that they could have spent the day together again, even if only while tending the store, if not for Joey. Again. He bit his lip. "Are you going to be out late, then?"

"Umm. . . . Midnight, I think." Yami stood up with a rag in his hand and started wiping down the counter. "Anzu wanted to watch a movie."

"Oh."

Yugi was glad his mind remained blank instead of pursuing . . . whatever path it might have taken on hearing Anzu and movie in the same sentence. He knew what couple usually did when they watched movies. But for once his mind didn't betray him. He watched Yami's arm move back and forth over the glass.

After a while, Yami looked up and caught him; his hand slowed. ". . . Don't you need to go get changed?"

"Oh!" Yugi started. "Right."

He paused, watching Yami go back to work, then turned and proceeded to ascend the stairs back into the house. He still felt like the world had been turned on its head, but maybe if he just went with it everything would settle back into place, right side up, the way he knew it. He wondered if then things would make more sense.

o/o/o/o/o

Atemu sat on the floor of the Egyptian hotel room, his back braced against the bed. The sky was dark, the sun having already set on the eastern side, and he had one arm wrapped around his drawn up leg as he stared out the window.

He had reclaimed his name. But it still sounded strange to his ears and doubly strange on his tongue, on the tongues of others.

He had reclaimed his memories. But it felt like two lives, two separate people living them, instead of a missing piece of himself falling into place; and which one was the real him?

He had reclaimed his body. . . . But that was strangest of all. Because it didn't feel like his skin. Because it did. Because there was no bright presence in the back of his mind and one set of memories told him there shouldn't be while the other missed it terrible, reached for it, and ached when it couldn't be found.

The former spirit was glad it had been deemed too late to do anything by the tie they returned to the hotel. They couldn't procure any more rooms for this night, so he was allowed one more night at Yugi's side. He had a night to prepare himself for spending the rest away from his little light. He wasn't sure what he would have done if this wasn't the case. Perhaps he'd have gone crazy. Again.

An ironic, almost bitter smile twisted his lips, brought no new light to his eyes as they stared out over the darkened golden sands. He had forgotten how lonely the empty desert could be, even in the midst of a city.

The door opened and he looked over to see Yugi stop just inside. "Yami?" he asked, confused. "Why are you sitting on the floor?"

Atemu opened his mouth to answer, couldn't find an appropriate excuse, closed it again. He smiled a little instead, sheepish, and shrugged eloquently.

The youth accepted it with a short laugh, and then climbed onto the hard bed, settling down near the foot, back to the door. Atemu twisted so he could look up and over at him comfortably. Excitement radiated from the lithe form almost palpably and it sped the other's words when he spoke.

"Everyone's settled in," he announced. "Kaiba's agreed to help us get papers for you and Bakura so you'll be able to come home with us. He thinks it'll take a couple days, maybe as long as two weeks. I don't think he's in a hurry. And Bakura doesn't think he needs papers at all, convinced he could sneak into the country just fine without them and I think he probably could, if he tried hard enough, but Ryou wanted him to come back right, completely legal and legitimate or whatever and he dropped it. Said Kaiba had better do a good job with those papers.

"Tristan and Joey were surprise he gave in so easily. Anzu, too, but she hid it better than those two. She just blinked while they exclaimed and got him to growl at them. I think he threatened to cut out their tongues if they didn't shut-up but I don't quite remember. And I don't think he'd go through with it. I think I saw him glance at Ryou when he said it, something in his expression I don't remember seeing before, something softer. Do you think he's changed now that Zorc's gone? Do you think he could be our friend now?"

Yami blinked, caught rather off-guard by the abrupt demand for his participation. And the subject didn't help. He shifted uncomfortably and looked towards the door. ". . . I think he can begin to move on," he offered after a moment. "It will be up to him how much he changes. But, hopefully, he will become a friend."

"I would like that," Yugi admitted, somewhat shyly, before continuing more briskly. "And Grandpa suggested we set up sheets on the floor for you to sleep in until tomorrow, when we can get you your own room, but you can sleep on the bed with me if you want."

How many surprises would come in the night if he agreed? He shook his head. "The floor's fine, Aibou."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be uncomfortable. And I don't mind, really. There's enough room."

Glancing at the bed, he tended to disagree. Twin-sized beds, contrary to their name, were not actually meant for two people. "I'm perfectly fine with sleeping on the floor, young one. Besides, I believe your grandfather would be more comfortable with the arrangement."

Yugi shook his head and scooted closer to the edge on his knees. "Oh, he doesn't mind! It's not like you're a girl or anything."

Atemu grinned as Yugi laughed, cringing inwardly. If he had his way. . . . "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, Aibou."

"Yami, you lived in my head and heart for three years. Why would it be uncomfortable?"

The elder shook his head, giving up and climbing to his feet, perching on the side of the bed. "In that case, I thank you, my hikari."

"So what do you want to do until bedtime?"

Atemu blinked, catching three answers that would be patently inappropriate to this point in time. "Whatever you like, Aibou."

Yugi froze at the address, cocking his head. His eyes suddenly stared into the far distance, unfocused in an expression Atemu found he could not read.

"Aibou?"

Violet eyes blinked. "Mou hitori no boku," he answered. "You don't have to call me that any more now, you know."

"Aibou?"

Yugi nodded. "We're not bound to each other any more. You're free now. We don't even have to be friends . . . if you don't want to."

Atemu had the sudden, disconcerting impression that he was actually facing a Yugi three years younger than the one he had originally bid farewell earlier this same morning. What had happened to the confident youth who had defeated him in Duel Monsters?

He pursed his lips, then shook his head and scooted forward, catching Yugi's hands in his own. "Aibou—yes, Aibou, you were never my friend and partner by anything other than choice. Had the Puzzle never been a medium connecting us, still I would have been your friend. I will always be your friend. And that will only change should you no longer desire my friendship."

The tension melted out of Yugi's frame faster than an ice cube in the sun and another happy smile curved his lips. Then small hands were snatched from dusky fingers and thrown around the once-spirit's neck. Atemu was taken off-guard, thrown by the lithe body suddenly pressed close to his own, but he wrapped his arms around the other's waist just the same.

"Thank you. You're my best friend, Yami. I'd miss you so much if you were gone."

Atemu stared at the wall past Yugi's head. Gone. . . . His arms tightened around Yugi's waist. "Me, too, Aibou. Me, too."

o/o/o/o/o

Despite many assurances declaring he truly did want to spend time with him, Joey didn't seem to know what to do with himself, perpetually distracted by seemingly darker thoughts than he usually entertained, his mind jumping tracks quicker than usual, and Yugi couldn't figure out enough to find a way to bring the subject up. The blond's uncomfortable, rushed avoidance of the subject (despite his lack of knowledge on what it was, exactly, that he was avoiding) made him wary of forcing the issue. If it bothered him that much, Yugi suspected he didn't really want to talk about it in the first place.

Unless it wasn't about him and was really something to do with Joey himself, a problem his friend was facing. And if that was the case, Yugi was going to switch them all to bottled water because there had to be something wrong with the city's stuff if so many of his friends were developing problems they were having trouble talking to him about; it had never been an issue before!

Of course if it was. . . . Yugi sighed inwardly. He wished he could just to home and lock himself in his room but he suspected Yami would take exception to it and he wasn't anxious to find out if the darkling would make good on his threat and kick him out. He infinitely preferred Joey's company, awkward as it was just now, to wandering the streets alone.

Which was why he didn't protest when the taller duelist lead him to the Arcade, though his heart wasn't in it and it was the last place he wanted to be. Both lost horribly more often than not, however, and they didn't stay long. He didn't protest when the other suggested the park, nor when they quickly abandoned it upon seeing Kaiba there with Mokuba (though he was slightly confused by the reaction) in favor of the mall. He held his tongue when, after nearly an hour, Joey then grasped at the movies for relief.

After debating which movie to see for half an hour without actually getting any closer to a selection, however, his friend conceded to defeat, an act which drained him of the nervous energy that had hummed beneath his skin all morning. Smiling wanly at Yugi, he shrugged and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. "This hasn't exactly been our most exciting out ever, has it, Yug'?"

Yugi's answering smile was more genuine. "Well," he offered reasonably. "It's been one of the least dangerous."

"Yeah," Joey laughed, honey brown eyes darting around the street. "It's strange, ain't it? Not having to worry 'bout that stuff?"

"I guess." He frowned peering back the way they had come to keep from having to look at his friend. "It hasn't really sunk in yet. You know? It's only been a couple weeks and all, and we used to go that long without any weird stuff happening, at least a couple times."

"Yeah . . . yeah, I guess you're right. But then the Spirits were still spirits, and all and now they're not and it just feels different, ya know? Like it's really finally over."

"Yugi pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "You're right, Joey. It does feel weird."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

The dashed out sentence snapped his head up, eyes narrowing unconsciously. "What?"

"Ah . . ." Joey gestured helplessly, his fingers grasping at words that wouldn't come, and finally just smiled sheepishly. "Nuthin'. I was just wonderin' if ya wanted ta get an ice cream?"

"For lunch?" Yugi blinked, expression easing back into acceptance.

"It's summer," the blond returned easily, shrugging carelessly, as if those two words explained everything. Yugi supposed, in a way, they did. For what was summer but a few months to have fun and enjoy themselves without larger care or responsibility? It was a fast disappearing release from expectations that would be gone when they finished school, finally and for good. So he smiled.

"Okay."

Twenty minutes later, the pair had their iced confections and had retreated to the patio to enjoy them outside, the hot Domino sun a relief after Egypt's glaring heat. Yugi perched on the edge of his seat, feet crossed beneath his chair, elbows propped either side of his chocolate chocolate chip milkshake, hands holding his head while he drank.

Joey sat crookedly, his knees sticking out, his attention only half on his sundae, the rest on watching Yugi without looking like he was watching him, and the smaller boy's nerves. First Yami and Bakura, now Joey. . . Why couldn't his friends just act like themselves? He was really getting tired of everyone being weird, especially without him knowing why. Just how much had changed while they were in Egypt?

He frowned down into his shake when Joey twirled his spoon in the air and opened his mouth to speak, closing it again without saying a word. Just what was bothering him? And why did he keep giving him such odd looks, like he might break at any moment? Had Yami said something? But what could the former spirit have said to make Joey treat him like glass?

He felt a headache coming on. If he found out Yami had something to do with this. . . . "Is something wrong, Joey?"

"Eh?" The blond looked at him askance, head tilted like a confused puppy, his hair falling across this eyes. A hand brushed it back fruitlessly.

"You keep looking at me weird. Is it my outfit? Yami swore when I bought it that it looked fine," he added on a whim, hoping the stab at his own fashion sense would loosen the other up since his choice of clothes had always seemed to be a point of amusement for his friends.

"What? No—" Joey paused quickly to actually look at what he was wearing: knee-length cargo shorts with a blue-grey t-shirt that read 'How do you keep and idiot busy?' on the front—and the back, without any of the gaudy accessories he had become known for. "—no, it's fine. I just—you know."

"Not unless you tell me," he countered good-naturedly. "Come on, Joe. I don't bite—that's Yami."

"Heh, yeah," the other answered grinning. Then he frowned, played a moment with his ice cream, blew out a sigh, and fixed Yugi with a hard stare. "Alright, to put it out there: What wrong with you, buddy?"

Yugi sat back, startled. "Wrong with me?"

"Yeah. You've been acting off for days now, and I thought you were just adjusting and all or something and things'd go back to normal quick-like, you know, but then yesterday. . . . And I'm just worried about ya, man. What's up? You know you can talk to ole Joey. Now, spill."

The diminutive duelist was left staring into pleading puppy-eyes, feeling—one again—that the world had turned on him. He blinked.

"Come on, Yug'!" Joey prodded at his continued silence. "I know I ain't Yami but we're still best pals, right? We tell each other stuff, yeah? Friends forever and all that sappy stuff, right? Come on, Yugi, ole buddy, ole pal! You're killin' me! I gotta know, you know?"

The tirade pulled an unintended smile from Yugi's lips. "Calm down, Joey!" he laughed, holding his hands out placatingly. "I hear you. I just. . . ." He glanced away. "I don't know where to start."

"That big, huh?' The blond sat his chin on his hand. "How 'bout the beginning, then?"

". . . I'm not really sure where that is," he admitted after a moment, looking up at his friend helplessly. He didn't add that he also didn't really want to talk about it.

Joey shrugged. "Then just pick a spot. We can work out the beginning later."

He was quiet a minute, thinking, then sighed. "Alright. . . . Near as I can figure, it started back in Egypt. At least, I think it did. I didn't really notice anything until Grandpa left, or didn't realize it if I did, but—Yami . . . he's been acting strange lately, you know? And I guess . . . well, I guess I must've thought he was just getting used to being alive again after so long not . . . being alive, half alive.

"But instead of getting better, like I thought it would, it just seems to have gotten worse. He came into my bedroom randomly in the middle of the night a few days ago. And I don't think he meant to wake me up, but he did, and he looked so sad and he would tell me why. Then he did it again last night, and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it better because he's not talking to me. I should probably just leave it alone, Ryou said to, but—" He shook his head. "—I can't."

He looked up, then, and found Joey watching him seriously, the grave expression strange to see on the other's generally carefree face. It made him look more mature but didn't really fit the boy he had befriended three or so years ago, didn't fit his genial nature. Then his expression shifted subtly, softened, and he said, "Sounds rough, man. And you're tried to talk to him but he won't tell you anything?"

"He insists it's nothing."

Joey nodded. "Is there anything else?"

Yugi frowned. "No."

The other watched him a moment longer, annoying Yugi with his uncharacteristically unreadable expression; then he shrugged and leaned forward. "Have you tried talk' to Anzu 'bout it?"

He grimaced. "I . . . I don't really see Anzu much away from Yami, and I can't very well ask her while he's there."

"Yeah, I know whatcha mean," Joey said, slouching now. "They've kinda become attached at the hop, haven't they? It's weird. . . ." That last seemed to have been directed more to himself than Yugi, spoken almost too quietly for the shorter boy to hear, the taller duelist suddenly staring at his own little world. Yugi frowned.

"What's weird?"

Joey jumped. "Eh? Oh, you know," he waved a hand carelessly. "I just didn't think 'temu really went for her." Yami had, much to Yugi's surprise, been rather amused by Joey's tendency to leave the 'A' off the beginning of his true name, especially when he was flustered. Yugi couldn't understand why and his other wasn't in a hurry to explain, waving it aside whenever he brought it up.

Yugi frowned harder. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said," he answered blithely. "But he did, so I guess I was wrong, yeah?"

The shorter duelist shook his head. "I don't understand."

" 'S nothing to understand." Joey paused. "Though, all this don't really explain why you ran outta the Arcade the other day, Yug'."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. "I didn't feel good."

"Yeah, you didn't look good, either," Joey agreed. "But you're fine now, not ill, at least, and if you'd really been sick we woulda had to drag you outta there. 'Sides, you use to use that excuse when you had to go to the nurse's office after getting' beat up, remember. So what is it?"

For a minute, all he could do was stare at him. It really wasn't fair. Oh, he knew Joey was more perceptive than most people gave him credit for, but he wasn't supposed to be able to see these things, especially when they hadn't see a lot of each other recently. That was more. . . . His eyes narrowed. "What did Yami tell you?"

"What?" He was sure he saw guilt flash behind the surprise. "Nothing!"

"You say that the same way Yami does every time I ask him what's wrong."

Joey's jaw set petulantly. "He just said you were kinda upset and he was worried about you. That's all. And he didn't want me to tell you that, so you'd best forget you heard it. I don't want no crazy evil spirit on my tail, ya know? Even though he's not a spirit, really. . . ."

"Forgotten," Yugi agreed, more interested in the confirmation that Yami had had a hand in this than what he'd said. "He asked you to take me out today, didn't he?"

Hurt flashed through brown eyes and Joey leaned further away from him, frowning. "You think I need someone ta ask me ta spend time with my best bud?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Joey."

"I'll admit he was the one who called me first this morning, woke me up just like I asked 'im to yesterday. I was the one who wanted to do stuff today. I thought it'd be nice, you know? Jus' like old times."

Yugi scrubbed his face with his hands, his shoulders drooping. "I'm sorry, Joey. I didn't mean anything by it. Really. I'm just . . . I'm not thinking clearly. I'm really worried about it. He's hurting, and I don't know how to help."

"Yeah, well. . . ." Joey shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know how to help either. You wants I should keep an ear out, huh?"

He smiled. "You're a great friend, Joey."

"Aw. . . ."

"Could you . . . I don't know. Could you just maybe not mention any of this to Yami? What I said?"

"Sure thing, bud," Joey agreed, grinning. "Scout's honor. So, you up for some more exploring or what?"