A trick of the mind is always the hardest to reveal for whatever comes, he never gave it much thought before. The afternoon was long with little coming and going in such a small area. Such a small shop. But that is partly the enjoyable factor of this.

It's quiet, the antique games that come into this shop never cease to fascinate him beyond comparison to every old dusty piece of furniture or weapon dated back to old age. So why?

He wonders quietly, standing before a mirror taller than he himself. He can scarcely reach the carvings on the top much less the part he wants to dust. Shining up the pieces is a part of his wages.

And though it is indeed a handsome piece he'd never given such things the time of day, no second glance. Though there's something alluring about the dull glassy shine and polished oak carvings.

Flowers and swirls of all types. But it's not that.

Something internal leads him into thinking such things, desires to see what lay on the other side of the fitted creme sheet that lay over top had gotten the best of him. All he'd found was dust and his dim reflection.

"I misplaced the stool again," Yugi grumbles, though lightly.

A hand graces one lingering handle he could be certain wasn't there before. A curious stare, he gives. Almost hurriedly pulling it as lightly as he could- it being old, to watch an empty drawer pull out.

Nothing was in it.

He pushes it back in, the mirror lightens up. Rubbing his eyes the light must be playing tricks. It looks just as dull as beforehand. He glances at it sideways- to be certain. Yet again nothing is there, it must have been some trick of the light.

With much strain, Yugi manages to get the sheet draped over it's slightly battered frame once again. Though it seems rather ominous now?

Fingers trail lightly down the sheet, silky to touch. And he jumps as the clock strikes two.

"Another time," Yugi promises with a slight cringe. Hurrying to the front counter as demanded by an impatient shopkeeper.

How odd.

"Perhaps it would be best."

Quiet voices plagued by restless dreams. He fears the blackness this presents. Whispers and eyes- oh the eyes! They stick to the four corners of his mind. Watching, beckoning. And he is frightened.

Even in his dreams- which he is sure, this must be, after all, no one but a madman sees eyes stuck to the imperishable walls of their room- he can see his own whitened knuckle grip.

They want him to look, to see. To open his mind, they want him to open his mind to the possibilities of the world- and life beyond. Though they utter nothing but whispers.

And he cries out. For what could they want. He has nothing.

"Look harder," the eyes are pleading with him. "Look again."

Voice thick with fear he cannot reply. So his fears are vocalized through the heart rather than his mouth, gaping wide as it is. He feels sucked into their lucid gaze, he knows now.

They widen. They scream. He screams with them through a suddenly loud mind.

"Look again."

A chill.

He wakes, startled to see the sun peeking through blinds. Waving him hello as his alarm blares impossibly loud. Shattering to his own fear-stricken mind.

"God, I-"

Exhausted. It was only a nightmare he reasons. The first in a while. He will soon forget.

Or so he hopes, wobbling from the bed.

Was he not to open his mind to the things of this earth? Or was it even that simple?

"What's up Yug'? You look awful tired today."

Yugi is snapped from his daydream. Half the class was gone he notices. "What time is it?" He asks, rubbing bleary eyes.

"Lunchtime.." Anzu is quickest to reply. "Did you stay up too long last night? You should take better care of yourself y'know."

He isn't listening. Drifting once again into that quiet state of listlessness. The one where he remembers eyes he cannot seem to forget- along with their fervent screams. The tears he could not see. And he wonders why on earth, why him? Why them?

Perhaps; an investigation would be necessary. He feels if he only follows they will lead him. Or maybe- it was him leading them. But to what?

A great destin-

"YUGI!"

He springs from his seat in surprise. Hitting an elbow off the desk chair. Grunting in pain Yugi cradles his elbow- stares at the others almost defensive for himself. "What?"

"You were dozing off again!" Hiroto is clearly frustrated by this. He'd like to eat sometime this year if possible and that might never happen if Yugi weren't to get up. They're too worried to leave him there on his own.

If someone were to get it in their head that he was easy pickings.

"I'm sorry I just- um, had something on my mind."

"Ya kill a man?" Jounouchi lightly jests. Kaiba snorts from across the room causing him to whip around on the spot.

"The hell was that for, huh?!" Jou already has his fists raised at the latter across the room, book in hand. A satisfied smirk that Jou would just love to punch inwards.

"Just the thought that someone so incompetent as Yugi would be able to carry out such a thing as murder and get away with it is so ridiculous that it hurts."

Practically snarling venom at this point, he's stopped by Anzu.

"It's not worth it. Let's just go eat."

With a grumble of "fine", they depart the classroom. Yugi looking as if he'd lost an entire year's sleep. Impatiently waiting out the rest of their school day just to see what pesters and prods him to look.

Though he gets his chance.

Almost immediately after school, parting with his friends for what seemed like too short a time. Probably considering the fact he'd been so out of it half the time; it stood to reason. He hadn't spent the day with them as much as his own thoughts.

The day is one of impatience, of eagerness for a good night's rest. Begging practically for such.

It arrives. The moment he'd heard the screams shake his very fiber with. And eyes closed, let's it lead him through the store room. As if pressure it builds ever so loudly.

Shaking hands grip a draped cover; they pull.

He slowly opens his quivering eyes. Turns a ghostly white in front of such a large mirror. The one from earlier.

Nothing is there.

But it had led him?

What had he done the last time? Suddenly it strikes him, one hand paused from where fingers were threading through his hair.

The drawer.

Curiously he reaches for it; twists it; pulls it.

Nearly screaming in terror, clamps two hands over his gaping mouth and allows a tiny shriek to escape in the process. Startling himself more and consequently-

The bewildered Pharaoh staring back at him.