A/N: On the subject of the Egyptian language: I tried to be faithful to it here, but there are…instances. For example, the closest thing to a translation for game I found was senet, which is of course a very specific Egyptian game. Therefore I was forced to use the word heba instead. Some clever fanfiction author found out that it meant game in some ancient language or another, so I used it here.

A few non-spoilery details of Yu-Gi-Oh GX (assuming you care about that; I'm not fond of it, but it has its fans, I'm sure) are used as plot devices.

This story is set in my bizarre merge-verse. That is to say, while the characters are referred to by their English names and their speech patterns and character details resemble their English versions, and of course they live in America, they act a bit more like their original Japanese versions than they might, especially where the Tea/Yugi/Yami relationships are concerned. There is also a certain amount of Japanese used. You see, according to my logic, Domino City is obviously an American town which possesses a healthy population of Japanese immigrants and their descendants. Thus, Americans with Japanese names, builds, habits, and tastes. Also, I count the first volume of the manga (Season 0) in my head-canon. And, finally, I do not call Bakura "Ryou" and Yami no Bakura "Bakura". I spell YB's name as 'Bakhu'ra', which looks FAR more Arabian than 'Bakura', and I call Bakura 'Bakura', because it's his name. Of course, occasionally characters don't give a damn and well...context. Context is a beautiful thing.

…Well, I thought it was clever.

For any fans of the original Japanese who are unfamiliar with the dub names, allow me:

Jonouchi 'Jou' Katsuya: Joseph 'Joey' Wheeler

Kawai/Jonouchi Shizuka: Serenity Wheeler

Honda Hiroto: Tristan Taylor

Mazaki Anzu: Téa Gardner (spelt 'Tea' by me, because I'm too lazy to put in the accent every. Freaking. Time.)

Malik/Marik Ishtar: Marik Ishtar

Isis Ishtar: Ishizu Ishtar

Aaand I think that's everyone that's actually in this one. Cool.

Enjoy!

Eighteen-year-old Yugi Motou was packing his room, preparing everything for the move to Sennen University. He'd already filled his trunk with all his clothes—his black tank-tops, dark dress shirts, the buckled leather vest he hardly ever wore anymore but was taking with him so that his grandfather wouldn't have to worry about space; all the black pants, both denim and leather (he couldn't help it; he'd gotten used to it) and his black dress shoes. He was already wearing the flat-heeled boots.

There was a long, flat box at the bottom of this trunk—a box of clothes that he really did never wear anymore. A box filled with gleaming silver buckles and a chain-link belt, with studded leather bracers and a black leather buckled choker, with a pair of high-heeled leather boots covered in studs and straps and buckles. A thick, studded belt with a deck case hanging off the side of it.

And of course, the coat.

He'd returned the rest of his school uniform at the end of last year—it would be added to the second-hand stock, for families whose money was tight. But Yugi couldn't get rid of the coat. It hurt to even look at it; there were no words to describe the torture it had been to put it on every day for school. Yugi couldn't wear his little school blazer without remembering how it had always looked on him, how it swirled and billowed at his hips, stirred by a wind that wasn't there; how it always seemed somehow a deeper shade of blue when he wore it. He couldn't look down at his cuffs without imagining another pair of hands in place of his, graceful shapely slender-fingered hands that could shuffle a deck with blinding speed or roll a die with unerring precision. He couldn't look in the mirror and adjust the collar without thinking, something's missing, without remembering the way a thick, heavy chain had once draped inside that same collar, each link as solid and unbreakable as that personified by the heavy golden pendant they had supported.

Yes, the memories hurt. But not as much as getting rid of them would.

Yugi fingered the newer, softer choker around his neck as he surveyed the rest of his room. Even though he didn't need to wear something around his throat to cushion the Puzzle chain anymore (and God, did it hurt to remember that) he'd gotten so used to having something there that when his throat was bare it felt…exposed. Vulnerable. And damn weird when he swallowed. It had taken about two days of constantly holding his hand around his throat to realise he needed something there. Now a wide choker of canvas lined with silky-soft cotton wound its way around his throat. Golden Zodiac signs were embroidered around it—Pisces and Gemini always gave him a bit of a pang, but it was beautiful all the same. It was blue, of course. Royal blue. His colour. And he'd always loved the stars—ever changing, ever constant, a link to the past and the future but always here, now.

After all, Yugi would never be able to forget him. Trying to bury memories of him would just be…disrespectful.

Tea, Bakura, and Serenity had been the only ones to realise the significance of his choice in neckwear, but all three had filed it away under 'Signs of Moving On'. And if it made them happy to think that, Yugi was more than happy to let them. He was glad all his old friends from Domino High would be coming to Sennen University with him. It would have been very lonely on his own.

Reluctantly, Yugi turned towards the last unpacked item in his room. Opening the bottom-right drawer of his desk, he lifted out a golden box. The box which had once contained the pieces of the Millennium Puzzle. Now it held his Duel Monsters cards, the cards which Yugi hadn't used since he had pressed them into Yugi's hands six months ago, moments before he had stepped through the doors and broken Yugi's world into pieces. The deck which Yugi had used to defeat these cards, these amazing unbeatable cards that they had spent years refining together, had been dismantled and redistributed to whoever wanted them.

It had taken all of Yugi's willpower not to burn every last card from that last deck, to watch them peel and crumble the same way he was inside. But it wasn't their fault, wasn't their choice. Not to mention that even if the Shadow Realm was sealed away, even if they were just so much pretty paper now, he'd never have been able to get the accusing voice of the Dark Magician Girl—of Mana, he reminded himself—out of his head.

This deck, on the other hand, he had no grudge against. These cards were their cards, not Yugi's, not his, but theirs. This deck was the deck. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Yugi reached into the box and lifted out the deck. The weight of it in his hand, the feel of the paper against his skin; it was all so achingly familiar…

He flipped through the cards gently, smiling softly each time he saw a particularly beloved face. Queen's Knight…Valkyrion…Dark Magician…Kuriboh…

You've really got to get over this humiliation game—I mean, beating someone is one thing, but every time we're up against someone famous, out comes little Kuriboh-of-the-three-hundred-Attack-Points to kick their asses, Yugi told his other silently, giggling slightly. Kind of cruel, don't you…think…

Yugi felt hot tears stinging his eyes. Damn, damn, damn. This was always the hardest; the times when he really did seem to be moving on, when it didn't hurt. And then he realised that it didn't hurt because—because he'd forgotten. Forgotten that there was a reason to hurt. Forgotten that he was alone. Deluded himself into forgetting.

It would be far better to feel alone every minute of every day than to have those blissful moments of delusion, the moments where all was right with the world and it was just another day and another conversation with the ancient spirit possessing his body (because that was the epitome of normalcy—if you were Yugi, anyway). Because it hurt too damn much when the words just echoed and echoed with no reply, because there could be no reply, there could never be a reply. He was alone, now and forever, and if he could just accept that and move on, things could get better. Right?

"Yugi? Are you almost done?" Solomon called up.

"Just about, Grandpa!" Yugi called back, holding his voice level through force of practice. Everyone liked to pretend he'd moved on, and Yugi had learned how to feed the façade for them. Hell, maybe they even believed it, now.

Should he take the cards, or leave them? To Joey, to Duke, to Tristan, to Kaiba, leaving them would seem like a sign that he was finished, that he was giving up—because these cards were so much of who he was to them. To Tea, though, or Ishizu, it would be a sign that he was moving on, shaking off his presence along with the game that had brought so much strife.

In the end, he packed them in the bottom of one of his cardboard boxes of other games—nothing special. Just one more card game in with all the rest.

The Duel Monsters World Championship was in December, when most colleges would be on Winter Break. Would he go? Did he even have a choice? Did they let the World Champion skip those things?

Yugi picked up the last two boxes in his room—the game box and a box of books—and left the room, leaving the door open behind him, the stripped and empty room open for all to see. Gingerly, he felt his way down the stairs and when at last he reached the shop, he set his armload of boxes on top of the others.

"There you are," Solomon smiled. "Yugi, have you taped up all of those boxes yet?"

"This one's just folded," Yugi said, tapping the book box.

"Perfect. In that case, here." Solomon handed him a photo frame. The picture inside…

Yugi bit his lip. He hadn't even remembered this photo existed. In it, Solomon stood before the counter of the game shop, with Yugi sitting on the glass above and beside him, beaming into the camera.

But for some reason—some unknown combination of film, lighting, developing chemicals, and who knew what other factors—there was a third shape visible in the frame: the faded, mostly-transparent image of a teenage boy who looked like a taller, sharper-featured version of Yugi himself, right down to the clothes and hair. He was seated next to his partner; not posing but simply staying near him as a matter of course. Not expecting to be caught on camera, the spirit was not looking at the lens but rather at Yugi and Solomon. He had a rare, faint smile on his face as he watched both the young boy whose body he shared and Yugi's grandfather with oddly gentle eyes a few shades darker than Yugi's own. Yugi remembered the day this had been taken—quite a while after Duelist Kingdom, but a few months before Battle City began and started them on the path that would thrust them towards their 'destiny'—towards their goodbyes—at Mach Ten.

'Goodbye' should really be stricken from the knowledge of the human race.

"Oh, Grandpa," he managed.

"He's in a few others as well from before this—little blurs, things you wouldn't even see unless you were looking for them," Solomon said, his own eyes rather suspiciously bright as well. "And I think he tried to stay out of most of the ones afterwards, but even when you can see him, he's…drawn in. Masked, and hidden by all the others in the frame. But this one…you can see him, the real him, and I like that. I like to be able to look at this and be reminded of both of my wonderful grandsons."

"Then why are you giving it to me?" Yugi asked, wiping his eyes.

"I'm told it's tradition for people to take photos of their family with them when they go off to college," Solomon said wryly. "And I can't think of a single better picture of our family. Can you?"

Yugi wrapped his arms around his grandfather, clutching tightly to the photograph in his hands. "Arigato, jii-chan," he said, using Sugoroku 'Solomon' Motou's native language for a change.

"Of course, Yugi."

Two Years Ago…

Osiris reared up and parried the attack from Neos with a swipe of his massive tail, before opening his jaws. With a roar, a crackling blast of energy seared forth, blasting Neos into pixels.

And Jaden Yuki's Life Points dropped to zero as Osiris the Sky Dragon faded from sight.

Jaden's jaw dropped, and he blinked. "Wow. You really are the King of Games, huh?"

Yugi—or the Spirit possessing him—smirked. "So they tell me."

Jaden grinned. "Sh'yeah. No kidding. Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

The Spirit looked sombre. "I haven't the faintest idea. Most people—those who are aware of my existence, at any rate—call me Yami."

"Yami. Cool. I'm—"

"Jaden Yuki, one of the best Duelists I've ever had the honour to face and who can, peculiarly, see spirits." Yami approached him, raising, straightening, and lowering his arm as he went. The Holo-Projectors un-clamped themselves from the pavement and re-attached themselves to his Duel Disk, which folded inward on his forearm into a formation like a bird with wings at rest. "How is that?"

Now that Yami was closer, Jaden could see the differences that had overtaken him. Yugi's open, pleasant face had turned sharply handsome, all exotic angles, from his narrow chin to his wide cheekbones to his slightly-slanted deep violet eyes framed by dark, thick lashes. Yami also seemed to be taller and slenderer, with a lithe, almost feminine build.

A lot like Yugi had been in Jaden's time, come to think about it.

"Long story," Jaden commented, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "So you and Yugi just, you sort of live like this?"

"No 'sort of' about it," Yugi replied, materialising beside Yami. "I don't know what I'd do without him."

"Nor I without you," Yami replied evenly, meeting Yugi's eyes, and the younger Duelist shrugged and smiled.

Yami's heavy necklace glowed for a moment, and then it was Yugi who stood before Jaden and Yami who stood translucently at his side.

"Why don't you come in, have some tea? Or coffee, soda, juice, whatever," Yugi offered.

Jaden shrugged. "Sure, I got some time to kill."

It was true; from what Future Yugi had said, Jaden had about another hour before the magic which sent him back in time nine years reversed, returning him to Graduation Day at the Duel Academy.

After removing his Duel Disk and placing it carefully on the counter of the Kame Game Shop, Yugi handed Jaden a cold Coke, fixing himself a cup of sweet milky tea.

Half-an-hour later, Jaden had heard most of the story—how Yami had been sealed in the Millennium Puzzle until Yugi put it together and set him free; of how the Puzzle embodied the inexorable link between their two spirits, of how their souls were part and parcel of the same being.

Kinda weird. He hadn't remembered seeing the Puzzle around Future-Yugi's neck, nor had he sensed the presence of a spirit. Jaden could feel the dark, heady power of Yami's presence this very moment, had felt it since he'd first appeared in front of the Game Shop before Yami had ever revealed himself, could sense some sort of communication between Yugi and the mysterious being during their duel. It didn't make any sense; from what Jaden could tell, they were almost totally dependent on each other, some weird kind of symbiosis tying them together. What had happened to drive them apart…?

Well, no matter what it had been, his mission was clear, and so when Yugi retreated to the kitchen to recycle Jaden's can and put his teacup on the stove, Jaden approached his goal. It had taken him a good five minutes of searching during Yugi's story (and searching was a pain when you couldn't move around, yo) but at last he'd spotted it.

He lifted the picture frame off the side table (it had been turned inward towards the couch so that a casual observer wouldn't be able to look at it closely) and flipped it over long enough to scribble something on a bit of paper, using the back as a flat surface. For a moment he examined the picture; Yugi, his gramps, and Yami all gathered in the front of the Kame Game Shop.

Cool. He hadn't known spirits could be caught on film. But he didn't have time to think about that. Instead, he lifted out the back of the frame and slipped in his cargo: two folded slips of notepaper, one new and hastily folded, one neatly squared and sealed with tape, and a Duel Monsters card.

He wasn't sure why Future Yugi was so insistent that his past self have this card; Jaden already knew for a fact that Yugi had it…but oh well; he'd just have to assume that the adult King of Games knew what he was doing.

Then he replaced the bit of cardboard and carefully positioned the frame back onto its little table. He managed to take his seat again before Yugi returned, Yami spectrally visible beside him. Jaden spent another pleasant fifteen minutes talking to them before he started to get a very strange feeling at the tips of his fingers.

He made a show of checking his watch. "Oh my gosh! I've gotta get going!"

Yugi looked surprised. "Oh! We've been talking for over forty-five minutes! I'm so sorry to keep you busy."

"Nah, that's okay. Hey, maybe I'll see you again sometime, huh?" Jaden winked.

"Yeah, I can't wait!" Yugi beamed.

"Later, man!" Jaden called over his shoulder as he left the game shop. Then he broke out into a run, making for the clock at Domino Square.

Just as he got there, the world around him faded.

Nine Years Later...

"I still can't believe you went for a Coke instead of a cup of Assam," Yugi groused in his baritone voice.

"I was thirsty, okay?"

Yugi chuckled, smirking lightly. Piercing deep violet eyes caught Jaden's brown ones. "Have you remembered yet? The most important lesson?"

"Well, I…I don't know," Jaden replied, grinning and rubbing his neck.

Yugi raised an eyebrow. "I think you have. You're smiling again. But I didn't know if you'd realise it consciously." He gestured around him. "This desert isn't real. It represents your heart. See how there are clouds gathering, ready to bring rain? How, while warm, the heat isn't unbearable? You have begun to remember what it is to be a Duelist.

"Once you fully realise what you truly learned from your duel today, you will no longer be in a desert. You will be home."

"Gotcha," Jaden murmured, looking around. Well, if this was his own heart, he probably wouldn't die of heatstroke while he was here.

Yugi smirked again and turned away. "Oh, and Jaden."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," he said softly. "Your duel with me may have been the key to restoring your faith, but it was also the key to healing me, not long later…" He chuckled. "In point of fact, I believe you may have saved my life."

"Um…okay…?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Just think, Jaden. What most struck you about our duel?"

And for a moment, Jaden could see him striding away across the sands—hadn't he been wearing a coat before, it looked more like a cloak now—and then he was gone.

What most struck you about our duel?

Their duel. A duel for the ages. The duel in which Jaden had stood and known he had met his match…known he was going to lose. He had known, hadn't he? He just hadn't thought about it. Because…because…

Jaden's eyes lit up.

"Gotcha!" he shouted to the sky. "That was a fun duel!"

And the desert melted around him, and suddenly he was back at the gates of Duel Academy.

"Jaden!" That was Syrus!

"Where'd you come from?! You're back!" Alexia!

"Aw man, guys," Jaden laughed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

But as he lay in bed that night, happy and content in a way he hadn't been since his first days at the Academy, one thought just would not leave him alone.

Yugi had been in his late teens when Jaden had duelled him. But now, less than ten years later, at the age of twenty five he looked…different. Completely different. Jaden guessed it was possible he could have gotten so much taller and even for his face to change shape so drastically…but surely, if his voice was going to drop to a baritone, it would have been showing signs of doing so at sixteen?

Seven Years Later: Present Day

"I'm so glad we decided to buy a house," Tea burbled happily. "Way better than dorms."

"Well, with so many of us attending the same university, it wouldn't have made any sense to cram us all into small dormitories heaven-only-knows how far away from each other," Bakura said sensibly, pushing a roller full of dark lilac paint over the walls of his and Marik's room. He frowned at the colour as more paint speckled his hands—he really wasn't a purple person, but then, he didn't like to let such trivialities as the colour of a room bother him.

It was one of the ways you could tell that the spirit of the Thief King was well and truly gone. Bakura frowned. He'd never told anyone, but he sort of missed the guy. Sure, he'd been sociopathic, psychotic, melodramatic, and homicidal, but he'd been company. And without Bakhu'ra, he'd never have met his boyfriend Marik. And, well, no matter how bad Bakhu'ra Akefia had been to all Ryou Bakura's friends, he'd always been decent to Ryou—Bakura guessed it wouldn't do to mistreat the guy whose body you needed in order to fulfil your life's-and-death's mission of vengeance. You might antagonise him, and he might start fighting back. But on lonely nights, nights of hiding from his friends for fear they would see the Millennium Ring and know, just know that he'd let the spirit back in, Bakhu'ra would open up and talk to him, just…talk. And sometimes, Bakura found himself returning the favour.

Once, he'd even openly admitted something to the spirit: "You frighten me."

Bakhu'ra had blinked ghostly brown eyes at him. "I…frighten you?"

Bakura had nodded, bracing himself for the explosion. After all, none of what they'd talked about had really scratched the surface of their…whatever this was, this talking thing.

"That's not intentional," the Thief King had frowned. "You're not supposed to be frightened of me, you are me. Well, reincarnation-wise. Actually you're probably related to me; what are the odds of an Egyptian and a Japanese-Brit having the same bloody name?"

Pretty low, Bakura had reflected, and told the spirit so.

Bakhu'ra had nodded. "You're just going to have to deal with most of this fear thing. I am frightening, yadonushi, and don't you dare forget it. But I can try—with little things, like this—to try and convince you that you don't need to be afraid."

"But I do," Bakura had whispered. "For my friends. It doesn't matter what you act like, it's what I'm afraid you'll do to them."

"You're talking about the brat who carries the Pharaoh's soul?"

"He's one of them."

"Then I'm sorry, yadonushi, but if you're frightened of me as long as I fight him, you're going to be frightened for a long time. For the sake of my friends, my family…prepare to be terrified."

He'd left then, but they'd still met, still talked. Bakura actually felt sort of bad for him, as piece by piece, the story of Kul Elna unfolded before him.

And then Bakhu'ra had gone, without ever doing lasting damage to the souls, minds, or bodies of Yugi or his other friends, and the Pharaoh had followed just as peacefully. But Bakura had still lost two of his friends. Forever.

"Hello? Earth to Bakura-kun?" That was Yugi, waving a hand in front of his face and smiling.

"Oh! Sorry, Yugi-kun, I was just…thinking." He blushed lightly, smiling sheepishly and moving stray strands of white hair out of his face with the back of his wrist—his hands were too paint-splattered to do any good.

Yugi picked up a roller and knelt beside Bakura, getting all the low places the albino teen had meant to get once he'd finished the upper part of the wall. "Thanks," Bakura added.

"Bakhu'ra?" Yugi asked.

For a moment Bakura waited, thinking Yugi had said his name and begun a question; then he noticed the slight difference in pronunciation, the one he hadn't even realised was there until Yugi had explained it to him. It was spelled differently too, or so Yugi had been told by the Pharaoh—who had been pretty much the only person who actually enunciated the difference on a regular basis.

"Yeah," Bakura replied, not meeting Yugi's eyes. "I mean, it probably seems weird to you, but he was my friend. He…took care of me, even while he was being so horrible to all of you. I don't know if it was Stockholm Syndrome or what, but…he didn't hurt me, not really. Not like he did you." It was the first time he'd ever explained this to anyone but Marik. The Egyptian teen had understood immediately; during their brief alliance in Battle City, the two thieves had become fast friends, albeit in a We-Two-Evil-Masterminds-Against-The-World sort of way.

Who'd've thought?

"Doesn't seem weird at all," Yugi replied, running his roller through the pan of purple paint.

Bakura looked down at him, surprised.

"Come on, you didn't think the Pharaoh was perfect, did you?" Yugi grinned. "Heck no. There were like, six months or something like that before that dice game with you and Bakhu'ra where he was a complete psycho or something, punishing everyone that hurt me or my friends—for a pretty loose definition of hurt, sometimes, though the punishments were usually ironic parallels of the crime so the less horrible you were, the less harsh your punishment was. Still, there were a half-dozen or so people that got set on fire, one guy who got stung by a scorpion , um…Ushio still sees money everywhere, he had to get locked up in a mental hospital…there's that guy who thinks he's got a bunch of watches and clock faces and springs and stuff growing out of his skin…oh, and this one time, he played air hockey with this one guy with the table made of a hot iron griddle and the puck made of ice with a vial of gunpowder in it…do I really need to go on?"

Bakura blinked. "Um. No, no, I think I'm good, ta."

"Of course, he felt horribly guilty about it once he remembered his conscience. Took a while, but he got it. Went pretty quiet for a while. Then he zoomed straight into Perfect Hero Mode and never really resurfaced. Well, except for that thing in Death Valley…" Yugi looked sombre. "But hey, that's the past, right? So, what'd Marik have to do to convince you to go along with purple?"

"It is dark lilac!" Marik barked from across the room. "Dark lilac, you got that, shrimp? I, Marik Ishtar, would never select such a blasé colour as mere purple!"

Joey and Tristan busted up laughing; Tea and Yugi fought giggles, and even Bakura cracked a smile.

"Don't call Yugi a shrimp, Marik," was all he said.

"Or what, you'll tell the Pharaoh on me?" Marik snorted. No one noticed Yugi's wince, except maybe Bakura.

"Or else you'll be sleeping on the futon downstairs for a week," Bakura replied matter-of-factly, "and I will re-paint this room in earth tones."

"I am the son of Akhnamkanon. My name is Atem!"

Yugi awoke in the middle of the night, gasping for air, with the sheets sticking to every bare inch of his sweaty body. Peeling them away from him, he climbed out of bed and dug around in his trunk for a moment, searching for a dry pair of pyjamas.

He'd thought the dreams might get better once he wasn't living in their room anymore. But they weren't. If anything, moving had just served to make his reality even more alien from the golden times he longed for, made the dreams that much more believable.

The dreams always began the same way: with a nightmare, and the nightmare always started the same way too. The Ceremonial Duel, and Yami—Atem—walking through those doors, that damn blue coat rippling behind him until it wasn't a coat anymore, it was a cloak, and then the doors rumbled and slowly, so achingly slowly, came to a thunderous close.

And though that was the worst part of the nightmare, it went on—forcing Yugi to live through an incredibly lifelike world where he was alone, with no Puzzle and no Yami; a world where he got good grades, and bad grades, and never picked up a duelling deck again, and got accepted to Sennen University but it didn't matter because Yami wasn't there…

That part was always very quick. Then—then came the part that hurt. The part where he woke up—or thought he did…

Drenched in sweat, Yugi's eyes snapped open, his breathing too harsh and too fast. Slowly he calmed himself, fixing his eyes on the ceiling of his room at the game shop. That dream had been so real…

"Can't sleep, can you?"

With a start, Yugi sat up and saw the Pharaoh sitting on the edge of his bed, near the foot. His arms and legs were crossed, and he was watching Yugi with a concerned expression.

Yugi relaxed a little more—the dream hadn't been real, Yami was proof of that. He shook his head, letting himself accept the soothing feelings which emanated from his other through their bond. "Huh-uh."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah."

Yami stood and circled the bed, re-seating himself at Yugi's side with his back against the headboard.

"What about?" Yami asked in his deep voice, the voice Yugi could feel rumbling through the ethereal pharaoh's chest now that he was closer.

"You. Gone." Yugi snuggled into the ancient spirit's side as the Pharaoh wrapped his arms around Yugi and told him softly that he would always be there.

"You promise?"

He chuckled. "I swear it on the tomb of my father Akhnamkanon—"

"I am the son of Akhnamkanon…" The words seemed to hiss softly through the room, too soft to be anything more than imagination, Yugi knew, but he nestled closer to his other all the same.

"—I will never leave your side, Yugi. Now, you should get some sleep, aibou."

Yugi smiled at the word. 'Aibou'. 'Partner'. "Stay with me?"

"Always."

And slowly, he went back to sleep…

"Or are you waking up?" a soft, menacing voice asked, and Yugi could almost swear he heard the faintest snatch of birdsong…

Sometimes Yugi wondered whether this was the dream and that was reality. But one day, when he'd been bored, he'd read one of the books on psychology Bakura kept lying around, and concluded that since the self who woke up with Yami had perfect recall of the nightmare even whilst denying its reality whereas here-and-now Yugi retained only sensations and impressions, and the rarest of conversations, from his Inception-esque dream-world, he was, in fact, awake at this present time. And didn't that just suck. How was he supposed to move on when every night, he had dreams about having nightmares about being trapped in the very world he was doing the moving on in? Especially when those exact same dreams insisted on reminding him of all he had lost, conjuring up a figment of mou hitori no Yugi to comfort him and tell him that he didn't have to move on, because reality wasn't really real at all…

Ugh. Note to self: Never try to puzzle out a dream/reality paradox at five AM. Especially after staying up 'til one.

Thank God there were still three weeks before the semester started. If he'd had to get up at some ungodly hour the next morning in time for classes, he'd be screwed.

Unfortunately, he hadn't remembered to tell the alarm on his battery-powered clock that he didn't have to get up at some ungodly hour the next morning in time for classes, and the wretched thing started screeching less than an hour later, just as he was finally getting back into something approaching a rest state. Yugi flung himself at the clock, fumbling for the OFF switch. As he started to settle back into bed, he realised he was still holding the clock and tossed it vaguely at the bedside table. It skidded to the side, knocking the photograph Solomon had given him onto the carpeted floor.

With a groan, Yugi hauled himself fully out of bed, padding over to where the photo had fallen. Clumsy fingers grasped the frame, and as he struggled for a better grip one of his fingers slipped and flicked open the catch holding the back of the frame in place. The piece of black cardboard flopped out onto the floor.

Along with two folded notes and a face-down Duel Monsters card.

Yugi stared. Then he pulled the chain on his bedside lamp and gently set the photo down on the table, before bending and picking up the unexpected finds.

He set the Duel Monsters card aside for now, sure it would trigger some memory and set him off crying or something stupid like that. God, his groggy mind realised. I'm like some hormonal teenage girl. Maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea. Now how to talk to a therapist about my problems without winning a one-way ticket to a posh little suite with rubber walls.

Oh God, did I just think the word 'posh'? I've got to stop talking to Ryou. Or maybe just read this note.

He tried, but to his dismay it was taped sealed, and he just didn't have the dexterity to open it right now. So he put it aside with the card, and unfolded the other note.

So, this is kind of awkward. Jaden here—remember me? The sees-ghosts-kid? Yeah. So, to tell the truth, I'm actually from nine years in your future. I mean, from the year it was that I duelled you, because I don't actually know—no time 4 this u'll be back ne sec. Neway I got sent here by future version of u who told me 2 stick card + note here so don't get mad I'm in ur stuff k? U said card is important. g2g, was fun getting game on with you!

J Yuki

Yugi blinked. Jaden was…from the future.

Well, I mean, it would explain why his hair looks like a Kuriboh.

But seriously? Time travel? A version of him from—Yugi counted—seven years in the future had sent Jaden Yuki back in time to duel himself as Yugi was two years ago? That just sounded needlessly complicated. Not to mention, how the hell was he supposed to be able to effect time travel? Sure, Science Marches On, but not that fast, and he didn't have magic anymore; he'd lost that along with Yami. Part of the whole sealing-the-Shadows-away shtick.

Just. What. The fuck.

Wow, you are potty-mouthed when you need sleep.

Thanks for noticing.

Anytime. You do know I'm just a fragment of your mind, not Yami back, right?

Go. The fuck. Away before I cut you out with a rusty spork.

Inadvisable—okayI'mgoingjeezIthoughtyouwerekid dingI'msorry.

Thank you.

Ugh. His head already hurt from going all metaphysical on his dreams and then parsing the txt spk which Jaden had lapsed into in his haste.

He decided, what the hell, if 'future him' had said the card was important; he might as well look at it. At least that might give him an idea what Jaden was talking about.

So he picked up the card and, fighting down an inexplicable feeling of anticipation, flipped it over.

And then dropped it. His eyes skipped over the name of the card, seeing but not really taking it in, not processing what he was reading because it was impossible, it couldn't be…

—iris th—

—y Dra—

—Os—

—e Sk—

—gon—

Osiris the Sky Dragon.

Dear Me, it was his handwriting, oh God it was his handwriting,

I know this is a huge shock to you (I mean, it was a big shock to me and you're me so…wow, this is even harder than figuring out what pronouns to describe Yami with) he called him Yami, not Atem, Yami, and he put that extra sharp slant on the Y for Yami just like he did—the tiniest little change from the Y in his own name, no one noticed that, ever but it's true, I swear it is, it's true. You've been having dreams, right? Nightmares within dreams, and when you wake up, Yami's there and everything's okay. But then you wake up, and he's not there, and it breaks your heart oh God, he knew, how did he know? because he's gone and you just know you can't do a thing about it. And I know that even now, you're wondering how I know this but you still don't believe I'm you. So here, let's do a test. Pull out a black-light.

Black-light…black-light…where did he have it? He'd been looking for it recently when he wanted to do one of his CSI puzzles…

He kept reading while he thought, and his stomach jolted unpleasantly at the next sentence.

It's in the clothes trunk. Right-hand front pocket of the black skinny-jeans with the silver thread. Really need to check the pockets more; at least I only had those on for like half an hour so I didn't have to wash them and ruin the light.

Shit. One little UV flashlight, in the right-hand front pocket of the black skinny-jeans with the silver thread.

Okay, now think of a word. Any word, doesn't matter.

Any word, any word. Games, movies, books genres series titles chapters lines words 'I don't like lollipops.'

Lollipops, he decided.

Got one? Great! Now, flip this paper over and rotate it 90 degrees to your right.

Yugi did so, then felt stupid and flipped it back over to read the rest of the instructions.

Yeah, guess I should have put this next bit first, huh? Shine the black-light over the centre (I mean, I'm not sure if it's dead centre, but you know).

Yugi flipped and rotated the letter again, then picked up the UV flashlight and ran it over the paper.

I…P…O…

No way. Yugi moved the black-light to the left and started again.

L-O-L-L-I-P-O-P-S.

Lollipops.

Holy crap. It was true. He was reading a letter from future him.

Thought that would get your attention. Well, I say thought, but with the whole being-you thing, it's more like knew. So anyway. I guess you're wondering what the point of this letter is, huh?

Well, yeah.

Then I'll tell you. Take a deep breath; make sure you're sitting down. Okay?

Yeah, okay.

Right. Now listen—er, read—very carefully.

You can bring him back.

Yugi was immediately glad he had taken his own advice, since the roaring in his ears and the black spots on his vision indicated that he was now very close to passing out. Had he read that right?

Yes, you did. You. Can. Bring. Him. Back. You can bring Yami back.

And hadn't this been the plot of a Doctor Who novel at one point?

Yeah, I thought about that when I wrote this letter. All I can say is that I don't think psychic paper comes with glow-in-the-dark ink, but if you're not sure, you can always just pass it to someone at breakfast and figure out what they see, right?

Oh yeah.

Also, I'm not a Weeping Angel, just…just trust me on that one, 'kay? The key to everything is the Osiris card I had Jaden leave with you. I know Yami took the three God Cards with him when he left. And you know that, too. So you really have to wonder: how did I get it?

Easy. Yami brought it with him when he came back to me.

When he came back…

Just like he's going to come back to you. Now listen very carefully…

"Now listen very carefully," Yugi read aloud, as the rest of the household stared dumbfounded at the card in the centre of the table. "You're going to have to head back to Egypt with this, okay? Take your Duel Disk, and go back to where it all began. Then you'll have to summon Osiris. Next, call out 'Si Ra Atem, Nisu-b'ty! Ankh Udja Seneb!'. That'll summon the aspect of Osiris into the hologram."

"Aspect of Osiris?" Marik squeaked. "As in the god?"

Yugi giggled and continued reading "And yes, Marik, that is Osiris-as-in-the-god, and aren't you glad I'm writing this letter instead of Yami?"

Joey snickered. "Dat's our Yugi, still gettin' us today seven years in da future."

Yugi laughed even harder. "It says, why thank you, Joey! Anyway. This is going to be one of the most awkward conversations of your life, by the way. Once Osiris gets Himself to the point of asking you what you want, tell Him this: 'My future has sent me the key to my past, for my present is no longer whole and on this day, you wrongly keep a soul in Neter-Khet.' That should pretty much do it. And yes, Marik," Yugi read hastily as Marik opened his mouth, "I know Neter-Khet is the domain of Anubis. But there are extenuating circumstances which will soon become apparent.

"Well, that's all the help I can give you. All I can say, is good luck.

"Love from seven-years-in-the-future, all of you!

"Yugi Motou."

"Trippy," Tristan noted.

"Yugi, what are you going to do?" Tea asked.

Looking determined, Yugi scooped up Osiris. "You guys are going to think I'm pathetic," he warned.

"But I'm gonna get Yami back!"