I asked if anyone would read a prequel if I wrote it, and the response was pretty much nothing. But you know what, I'm writing for me. I actually have time since I'm on summer break from my online classes so I'm going to do something for myself.

This is a prequel to my story 'My White Threshold' which happens to be my favorite of my stories and one I am very proud of. You can read it here: s/9839708/1/My-White-Threshold

And again, my tumblr url is writewolf90

I do not own Yugioh. Are there any more creative ways to do the disclaimer? I'm gonna save my creative energy for this fic anyway.

His touch is soft and I close my eyes. He whispers his nickname for me and I sigh. He kisses my neck and wraps his hand around the small of my back. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. I can't cry. This moment is too perfect. Like our last night together, he's so tangible. Making love, enjoying each other's bodies feels…different. Solid. Better. Real. It's like magic is with us. I know he's just as he always is: a ghost.

"Don't go," I gasp. He's nipping at that one spot that always sends shivers down my body.

"I already did."

I feel the sorrow welling inside me. "But you're here. You're not gone! It was a dream."

But this was a dream.

I wake up with a rock in the pit of my stomach and moisture in my eyes. It's been over a month, and I don't know how much longer I can live like this. How long can I live like this? How long is this kind of thing supposed to last? Trying to do everything normally when nothing about my feelings or life is normal anymore My other self was right when he said we were two separate people with separate missions in life, but his leaving still felt like half of my soul being ripped out. I've been feeling it in my daily tears, and even in my own muscles.

I'm achy again today. My whole body just feels heavy. It's been like this for the better part of the last month. I'm always tired, always hungry and-

"Ugh!" I grab my stomach and run for the bathroom again. I'm sick of feeling sick. Jichan says I'm sick with grief, and I can say that I've never heard of nausea stemming from crying all the time. Then again, it does give me the worst headaches. Crying myself to sleep is not good for my sinuses.

But it's not my sinuses that I expel into the toilet. My sadness is a rock in my stomach that doesn't go away, so my appetite is not what it used to be. What little I did eat for dinner is now forgotten as I wipe the remnants from my mouth and go to the sink to rinse the rest out. I know I should go to the doctor. Jichan wouldn't let me go too much longer like this and risk being malnourished. But for me, the grief will never end, so I don't know when even my physical self will feel any better, much less my heart.

I stick my tongue out and make a face. Throw up does not taste good. I don't want this to be how I start every day, but no one has told me how to make myself sick from crying so I'm stuck. I brush my teeth as I hear Jichan moving through the kitchen again. He's making eggs on the stove and the scent hits me like wind from a tornado. The smell is overwhelming and sends my mind into a spin. I get a headache again and I instantly remove the toothbrush and slap my hand to my mouth.

Oh no. Not again. Please no.

My head is over the toilet again and I regurgitate the last ounces of last night's dinner. I cough the last out and tears well up again. Frustration and simply the feeling of burning vomit in my throat bring them to the surface and I don't fight it. I gave up fighting the crying weeks ago.

I'm gargling some fresh water again when Jichan calls up.

"Yugi?"

"Hai, Jichan. I'm coming."

"Are you sick again."

I don't want to admit it, but there's no hiding it. I sniff my breath in my hand. No vomit smell, but my eyes are bloodshot from the hot tears the strain of being sick brings on me.

"Um, yeah."

"Do you still feel like eating?"

I want to eat for him, but I can't do it. I just can't. Not that I want to spend my whole day crying in bed, but I can't eat.

"No…thank you. But no." My voice trails off as I talk, and I don't know if he can hear me. There's no response from downstairs. I hope he didn't make me something only to let it go to waste.

I go back to my bed and lie on top of the messed-up sheets. Staring at the ceiling and focusing on that one black spot is the only thing keeping my mind off of the nausea. The question of weather it's a mark, scrape or a bug keeps me distracted from each wave that passes over my stomach like a wave of rocks. Luckily today, the room isn't spinning. I used to think the phrase, 'sick with grief' was just a saying, but the literal meaning is truly ruining my life as much as the loneliness. I will not throw up. I will not throw up. I focus more on that spot. Just stare at that spot. It will go away.

Jichan is at my door without a knock, and when he speaks, I flinch when it breaks my meditation, and I fear for a second that I'll lose it again.

"I'm making you an appointment with the doctor." He's not much of a stern man in his old age, but this is matter-of-fact. No room for negotiation.

I take a deep breath of air and speak as I exhale, holding my stomach muscles tight, "No. I'll be fine. Everyone gets over this kind of stuff."

He shakes his head. "Yugi, not many people make themselves this sick when they're hurting like this. Now, I'm still proud of you for winning and letting him go, but I'm not quite sure you really did let him go."

I take more deep breaths. He's right. I'm never hungry anymore, and sleep is always fraught with nightmares and strange emotions I can never really figure out.

"Well then maybe what I need is a psychiatrist," I suggest.

"First, let's take care of the fact that you haven't kept anything down in a couple weeks," Jichan says, sitting on the bed near my feet.

"Jonouchi wanted to go to BurgerWorld today, but I don't know anymore," I say. Lunch is only a couple of hours away, and right now, I can't imagine a single second of this day not being overwhelmed with nausea and trying not to lose whatever parts of my stomach I still have left.

Jichan touches my knee. "I think you should still go. You need it. Even if you don't eat anything."

I frown. I've been hanging out with my friends pretty much every day since we got back. Our trip to Egypt was timed so that we left on the first day of our summer break, and it's been easy to see them almost all of the time. Then again, I've only been open to doing things like going to the arcade or playing games at the house when I'm feeling well. That streak was broken before it was even started. Jichan is right, but how can I go out when I can't even sit up?

"Can you get me a cold cloth for my head?" I ask. I'm still perfectly rigid lying on my back. Movement is out of the question. I have no idea what it would do to me.

"If you promise to meet Jou, I will," he says.

Now I'm mad. "I can't feel well enough to actually go unless you get me the damn cloth!" I snap. "I'm sick!"

He stands up without a word and disappears. When he comes back with the washcloth, I'm embarrassed, but I say nothing as he places it on my forehead.

"Doctor. Tomorrow. 10:30." Then he leaves to tend to the shop. I feel a sudden surge of fear or sadness. Being alone now is the worst.

Jou and I came back to my place after lunch. I didn't eat anything then, but now I'm on the couch, a controller in one hand and a bag of chips in the other.

"Yes! I still got it!" I shout. The nausea is completely forgotten about. Instead, I'm focusing on playing the new Duel Monsters video game Kaiba came out with. Jou doesn't know that I've been the first to test it. It's not even out in stores yet.

Jou slouches back. "Well, I'm done. If you can beat me in more than one medium, then I really do need to look at a different career path. Runner-up in tournaments won't pay the bills."

I smile and turn off the console.

"You seem to feel better as the day goes on," Jou observes.

"You think so? Sometimes I feel sick all day." I say, popping another chip in my mouth.

"Well, I mean," Jou starts. "You haven't cried all day and you're eating. I mean, that's something."

I bite my lip when he mentions the crying. For a couple hours now, I've forgotten I've had something to cry about.

"Well, you know…" I trail off. First the nausea was uncontrollable, now I'm afraid I'm about to embarrass myself.

Jou's eyes get big and he sits up. "Oh, hey man. I didn't mean to say anything."

I wipe my eyes as the first tears hit. "No, it's ok. I-I usually cry when I'm alone. You know, at night when we used to talk."

He crosses his legs and turns to face me. "You beat him because you were meant to. You know that right?" Jou always had intuition about a lot of things. Wise beyond his years, a lot of people wouldn't know just how smart he is about matters of the heart and the meaning behind life's challenges.

I nod. I keep having to wipe my eyes because the tears keep coming. I catch them before they can reach my cheeks. It's like a game of whack-a-mole on my face. My face is turning red from my hands rubbing them constantly.

"I just…I don't like the loneliness. I don't like thinking that I have to go on with half of me gone. It's not just because of our bond that the puzzle gave us. I really…" my voice trails off again. One tear breaks past my hand and makes its way down my cheek.

Jou's head is hung, but he glances up at me. "You really loved him."

I nod. "More than I ever could have imagined."

Jou purses his lips. "Listen, I knew this for pretty much the whole time."

I smile a little. "I know. He said you stood up for him after he- well. You know what he did in America."

He smiles and nods. "Punch to the face aside, of course." He wipes a tear from his eye himself. I tilt my head and look at him closer. "Yugi, I never questioned the way you two felt for each other. He was good for you, but only for so long. You're independent, and you were meant to separate when the time was right. You were chosen to solve the puzzle, and so you'll be together again. But that'll also be when the time is right."

Even hours later as I get ready for bed, I know he's right. Things happened the way they were supposed to. Whether it was the gods or simple fate, I was the one chosen to be united to him, and I happened to fall in love. He loved me back and we shared it for the years we spent together, and I'm grateful. It doesn't make the hurt any more bearable, though.

And just like every other night for the last few weeks, I go to sleep crying, not caring about how much it will hurt in the morning. It hurts right now. Being alone sucks.

The doctor looks at me with an emotion I can't quite name. I'm focusing on not throwing up again. Looking at him in the eyes, I can tell, something's…off. And he hasn't even touched me yet.

"How long have you felt this way?" he asks.

I take another deep breath to fight the waves that hit my stomach. "Um, uh, about six or seven weeks." I don't like saying it. It's how long he's been gone.

The doctor asks me about more symptoms. I frown and mention the fact that I can smell things from far away. It's strange, but since it triggers more of the vomiting, I feel I gotta say it.

"I've…been crying a lot." I mention.

He looks up from the blood pressure cuff he wrapped around my arm. "Emotional stress? What triggered it?"

"I…lost…my uh, significant other," I don't like lying to doctors. It may be personal, but lying is just not in my nature.

He nods and pumps air into the cuff. "I'm sorry."

I bite my lip and take deep breaths. Blood pressure tests are never painful, just uncomfortable. I don't like the doctor in the first place. I haven't been in the hospital since- aw shit, I gotta avoid these kinds of thought in public.

"Sexually active?" he inquires causally.

My eyes widen. Shit. How do I answer that? To say that I was sexually active would be an understatement. We were marathon runners some days. But it was all in the rooms of our minds. Does that count?

I'm gonna say no. "Um, no. Just…maybe ma-…um, normal alone stuff."

Whew.

"Your blood pressure seems normal. What's your diet been like?" He changes the subject so nonchalantly. How does he do that? What must he think of my answer? All guys do it right? At least, I think so. So it either makes me a freak for doing it, or a freak for saying it out loud.

I play it cool and shrug. "Food is the same as always but…I don't eat much and I can't keep down when I do eat."

The doctor takes notes as I talk and seems genuinely concerned when he looks back up at me. Damn, I forgot his name already. Jichan set the appointment up and probably just picked a random doctor my mom told him to choose. But when I meet his gaze, his eyes look familiar. Not that I look at peoples' eyes often but…there's a look there that I've seen before. Like someone who's been touched by something… I glance at his badge pinned on his lab coat and his other features. He's definitely a little older than middle age, and his hair still has a few stands of his darker color of his youth left. He's normal looking, but I can't help feeling that he's not. I'd write off these thoughts, but I've been through enough to know that every day people can surprise you.

"Well, I'm going to have to ask for a stool sample and I'll order some blood tests, just in case it's a bacterial infection."

I nod. Great, now I have to produce a big one for someone else's purposes. Crying in public seems like a minor issue now. "Do you think it's something serious?" I'm not afraid to ask, so why am I so antsy?

He sighs and looks up from his clipboard. "I'm not entirely sure. You don't have a fever, so it's not a normal stomach bug from food. It could just be stress, but your vitals are steady. I'm going to cover all of the angles to make sure we can figure this out together. Ok kid?"

I roll my eyes at the 'kid' thing. I'm used to that. I'm not even wearing my jacket today so I can't blame him entirely. Still, my other self himself said that I had grown since the beginning of high school. And I feel I should trust this man no matter what he asks.

"Yeah, sounds good. Thank you."

The nurse leads me to the lab and I feel deflated as I wait for the technician. I was hoping to come home with an answer, not a promise of a phone call and a couple pricks in the arm. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and I know exactly who it is. He can wait. Right now, I'm trying to focus on not crying in public, and not jumping out of my skin for unknown reasons.

I wait to text until I'm at the bus stop.

I'm coming over.

They know me at the gate, and at this point, it's not hard for me to find my way to the office. It's quiet in here, and I'm grateful. Despite how spread out this place is, I'm not always comfortable with how many people are constantly hovering.

I walk in without knocking and drop my bookbag on the floor next to the couch in the center of the room. The room is bright behind the desk and has a soft, wooden scent. I lay down on the sofa without a word and let out a long exhale. It's been a long day and we're barely into the afternoon. I'm just too tired and sore to manage a greeting to the other occupant of the room. I kick my shoes off and close my eyes. It's the first time I haven't felt sick in a little bit, but I still don't feel up to do much more than sit here and try to stop thinking about my doctor and what exactly is different about him.

"Where were you?"

I tilt my head over the armrest and smile a little. "At the doctor."

The only response at first is the sound of clicking as he types away at his computer.

"Good."

More clicking.

"I still don't like you taking the bus everywhere," he finally says, his voice a low mumble.

"I've done it for years and I'm still alive, aren't I" I quip.

The clicking continues before, finally, Seto closes his laptop and looks at me, his expression exasperated and even a tad angry. "I would have offered a ride."

"You know that's a little flashy for me," I say, closing my eyes again. "So you mind telling me why you're not at your actual office at the tower today?"

He stands and makes his way to the recliner next to the couch by my head. He sits down and turns on the TV without comment. I take this as his response and close my eyes. Maybe I can fit in a nap. Sometimes, when I'm invited to Kaiba's, I end up simply keeping him company. Ever since he came to the ceremonial duel and admitted he thought I was a worthy duelist, he's been calling me and having me over just like this almost twice a week. The first day, I was incredibly confused, but open to the idea that I had done something that he felt opened up the door for a real friendship. While the others weren't invited, I found this to be progress. Considering his relationship with my other self, I welcomed these visits and enjoyed my new routine. Even moments like this were opportunities to see sides of Kaiba I'd never known about. Most of our time together was spent like this, honestly. Still, there was always this feeling that I needed to come.

Because if there's anything I know about him, it's that he's driven, ambitious, and completely devoted to those closest to him.

He stops on a news station and begins glancing at a magazine.

"Kaiba-kun," I start.

"Hm."

"I thought you- I don't know, I thought you were going to have to go back to America at some point. Weren't you supposed to go there to stay?"

He sighs, obviously annoyed. I've wanted to ask this question for a while and I'm trying harder now to live up to the lessons I learned about simple, every-day courage from my other self. Maybe this wasn't the best way to try that out. I just want to know why he wants me around so much.

"Haven't you noticed that I'm more than just a gamer?"

"What does that mean?" I ask.

He puts the magazine down and looks at me with a frustrated look on his face. He's not one for talking if it's not necessary. But if you get him worked up enough…

"It means I'm a businessman. I have other projects to work on and financial relationships to develop," he says.

"Oh," I mumble. I'm not uninterested in this aspect of his life, but I know so little that I know I wouldn't follow any further details.

I return my attention to the boring news guy when I think I hear Kaiba mumble something.

"What?"

His eyes are on the TV too, but he humors me. "I said at least I'm doing something."

I frown and sit up. "And, what does that mean?"

His arms are crossed over his chest and he clenches his jaw like he typically does when he's annoyed. It reminds me of when my other self wanted to see that Jounouchi was alright after his duel with Marik, but Kaiba wanted to duel immediately. He's impatient, which irks me due to the fact that he was the one who invited me over.

"It means at least I know what I'll be doing in a year. It means I know what I want years down the line."

I sit up and glare at him. "Yeah, KaibaLand locations all over America and the biggest in Japan. You-"

"Have at least some idea of what I want out of life. You? What's your dream? To spend time with friends? That's not a goal. That's a hobby."

I bite my lip. "You calling me lazy?"

His eyes soften the tiniest bit, but he's still harsh as he is with most people. "It means I've never heard you talk about what you want for your life career-wise," he says.

"My grandpa's shop and some of the royalties from tournaments-"

"Only lasts so long," he says. He's coming from a place of experience, but since I still don't know why I'm here, I'm wondering what his intentions are in saying all of these things. "But at this point, you're in your last year of high school. But what do you want? A career? A family? Or are you just satisfied with taking a permanent seat in the back of that shop that is barely standing?"

I've heard enough at this point. I grab my blue jacket I put on the armrest of the sofa and stand up in a huff.

"Just because I don't say it out loud to you, doesn't mean I never thought of it, even before!"

"And I don't broadcast my future intentions to you, but I know I've made more of a life for myself than you've planned in eighteen years," he says, raising his voice for the first time.

"Yeah, you're right," I say as I turn. "You haven't told me anything. I come here to sit and simply be company for dinner and background while you work. I never questioned it. And I'm not now."

He stands. "You're leaving?" he asks steadily.

"Yeah," I say, unsure if I should say anything more. I was never sure of what this was. All I know is that I don't want it to end. I don't want to stop coming to see him. I don't know if it's because I feel he needs me, or if it's the other way around.

Please, say something to make me come back.

"I'll walk you out, but," he pauses. "The future is scary, and it pisses me off that not once have you ever set a dream for yourself, even as your own friends come up with futures in America or creating a business of their own. If you want to prove yourself, you need to come up with something solid to peak your interest and create a future. Get it?"

I don't say anything. I only look at the floor. I know he's right. Duel Monsters and my friends are all I've thought about when I'm not at school. I don't think of much else. If anything, I've focused on these things that make me so one-note to remind me of him. But that is not excuse for never thinking outside a small box. Post-graduation has been something to avoid as much as the Ceremonial Duel was.

His words are a comfort, but have an annoyed tone. "Come on, I'll get you home in one of my cars. You don't want people staring as a limo drops you off at that wreck your grandfather calls a store."

I step out the door first without saying anything until I get in the car.

"Same time tomorrow?"

He nods and closes the door for me. The silence returns, and it's back to my new normal.

Ok, that took me a while. I'm very anxious to get to the meat of this thing but I'm taking my time because I was this to be as realistic as possible. I want the characters as in-character as possible and the while thing to feel natural. This is more of a project for me so I welcome all feedback.

Please review!