A/N: Sick Spooner is sick. Healthy Spooner will likely cringe, looking back. Sick Spooner is well aware of this.

Midnight.

They shouldn't be here–

No. He shouldn't be here.

He peers up at the arcade.

This isn't going to end well.

But – well Ryou's here, whether he likes it or not, and he has a very bad feeling about why Anzu may have dragged him here. Sure, the arcade at midnight on a Sunday was her fornightly special date with Yugi for a good few months, but since then, things have changed. Not that Ryou knows much about it, not like his 'friends' ever tell him anything, but – ever since Atem disappeared in a puff of logic, the Real, Original, Possibly Slim Shady Yugi has been stronger. Not some superpowered hero, thank god, but not the thoroughly non–confident person he used to be, either – he's somewhere in between.

And his once perfect girlfriend, once glued to his hip, definitely doesn't like it. As far as Ryou can tell, the old/new/whatever Yugi won't be worshipped, and needs no shepherding. Taking his repeated brush–offs as a sign of rejection instead of a needed change, Anzu's distanced herself in return – though not without a few choice words, if the screaming in the school halls and the whispering in Ryou's ear means anything.

"See? It's open, like I said. It's a good place, honest! Yugi and I had lots of fun there." She spits out the name like it's poison. He winces, but holds his ground for now. "So, what are you waiting for?"

He doesn't dare meet her eyes, doesn't dare move, doesn't want to do whatever she's hoping he'll do, doesn't dare protest. Right now, she has this savage little grin on her face – about as menacing as she can get – and dear god, she's pulling him forwards, talk about forceful–!

One second, it's very quiet, too quiet. A soft giggle of invitation, a deep humming as the doors slide open. For a moment, he could almost be on a real date, not some attempt to flip off Anzu's decidedly ex–boyfriend – time passes, and the thought's blown away in a sixteen–bit crescendo. They're only on the ground floor, nowhere near the rhythm games and noisy shooters, but the UFO claw machines are still very loud. Three–second motifs bicker and argue as they loop, each slightly more out of sync with its neighbours as it repeats, and lights of every colour flash and sear. The quiet, tabletop–roleplayer would love to run away screaming, but there's a hand on his wrist, pulling him forwards and past and round and in. He's too stunned to make a lunge for the door, half–blinded, half–deafened, bright lights and piercing sounds.

He makes pleading eyes at a staff member; highlights, headphones.

She only gives Anzu's death–grip a meaningful look.

An awfully gooey–eyed sort of meaningful.

There may or may not be cooing.

And he cringes.

They stumble up a staircase, holding hands, breathy giggles and panicked gasping. Under the dim lights and relative quiet, Ryou can almost think again, slow things that become faster and faster as the end of the monologue approaches, thoroughly unwelcome light at the end of the tunnel. He trails a hand against the wall, trying to slow her a little – he shouldn't be here. He's interrupting their very special date, and if he lets her shepherd him into this, he's going to lose Yugi over it, he's going to lose all Yugi's friends over it, and when she's done with him – he stops, breathes, tries again. He has no idea why she's has decided to drag him into this whole ugly Yugi mess, why or how or when exactly she decided on a plan as nasty as what's stewing in the back of his mind, but he wants out, but he can't say 'no' to Anzu, but he really ought to, but she won't let him so what's the point of asking, but–

They rush onto the first floor, and again he goes into something like shock. As much as he wants to talk himself into making a run for it, he can't help but be stunned – there's games everywhere, each clamouring for attention. What feels like thousands of instructions, slogans, and godawful zombie puns flash by, and in that chaos of complete and utter comprehension, Ryou doubts he'd be able to spot even Yugi's ridiculous hair. There's just too much to look at, and since his companion's been here so many times before, she's desensitized enough to charge right through the mess.

"Running in heels? You're only going to twist an ankle, you know."

He doesn't recognize that voice – hell, barely hears it over the noise of all those machines – but Anzu rips him so hard to the left that he guesses it must be someone important. He mumbles something like a warning, something like "Hey, don't wrench my arm out of its socket", but it's little use, lost under the sounds of broke companies outright begging for his money. If anything, his companion only picks up the pace, making sharp turns around brightly–lit boxes; it's all he can do to dodge around them.

They stop.

Ryou breathes a sigh of heady relief, inhales, raises his head–

–chokes.

Multiple reasons present themselves. What with his head spinning and all that, he can't do much more than list them:

1. Did she bath in a cocktail of at least six different perfumes?

2. That is a really nice dress.

2. (a) And really nice legs.

2. (b) And really nice–

3. How did I not expect her to be involved in this?

Anzu goes to run over, of course, but Mai lifts one dainty hand, and she's stopped in her tracks. As she eases herself out of the driving simulator's cabin, takes off the helmet (how did so much hair fit in that thing?) and approaches with even steps, there can be no doubt as to who's in charge here.

She smiles at them both, like they're two perfectly normal people, not a terrified guy and a vengeful ex–girlfriend. "Hey, thanks for meeting up. It'll be a wild ride."

Ryou shivers, and finds himself holding onto Anzu's wrist for support. "S–so, what's the plan again–?" There's still no way he could have spotted Yugi in the total chaos of the arcade, but he tries to check for the guy anyway. The tension is suffocating; at any moment, he could lose not just Yugi, but all his frie– no, all Yugi's friends.

Mai laughs, a bubbling thing, that surfaces in barking pitches above and below the noise of the arcade. Anzu joins in - either that, or the gambler has the ability to laugh in chords. Both options are about as unsettling as the noise.

"We're gonna have fun, of course!" says one of them.

Ryou may be too focused on the carpet to know which one said it, but it doesn't matter to him. They clearly just want to bully his friend by pretending to make out with him or something. He's got no idea how to deal with this – friends turning on friends, it's just awful. Why him? Why do all the worst things always have to happen to him? He got the bad guy persona, sealed away so many people, was constantly left behind on every adventure–

The perfume overpowers him again, being so very close. Mai presses far too much money into his hands. "Here. Go wild, okay?" She smiles, and goes to pat him on the head.

He flinches back, and instantly regrets it. If he wants to get away from these two sinister friendship-manglers, he can't look like he wants to get away - and yet, he's just don't exactly that. So, Ryou stands there, shivering, and fears her reaction. What is his punishment to be? Early handcuffs? A giant, wheeled torture rack of death? Being forced to play Takeshi's Challenge for the rest of the night?

Shock does cross her pretty face, for a split second. But then she coughs and shrugs and straightens, rolling her eyes. Her whole prideful act's saved him, for now. "Just remember - this's our night out, okay?" She winks. "Don't hold back!"

He mumbles a thanks, even more garbled by his shudder. His mind races. If he doesn't get out soon, Ryou is definitely going to get groped. Or force–kissed. Or– worse?

The gamer stands in the centre of an enormous collection of arcade games, and wonders if he can escape somehow.

Preferably before the King of Games himself shows up.

That would be nice.

He can't do it.

The few times Ryou plucks up the courage to edge towards the stairs, one of the girls spots him, and trots over to his side, advising him on how to play whatever game he's standing next to. God lone knows why they're both being so friendly given their presumably sick intentions (his mind wandered into the sort of territory that would make a porn star cringe a while ago, and has shown no intentions of returning), but with the two of them keeping such a close watch, he gives up quickly.

He's hoping that maybe if he just keeps his head down, they'll have no–one to make out with but each other when Yugi strides in, but they're definitely very aware of his presence, looking out for him at all times. Encouraging shouts and cheers whenever Ryou wins a phone charm, or finally works out the rules for some novel pinball game – they're really starting to sound more like sinister hyena calls. Maybe he's not their final target, but he's definitely feeling like bait – used, abused, and ultimately left to be eaten.

"Really? You're struggling with a kid's game? You have to nudge it, not pick it up. Here, let me..."

It should be nice that Mai just offered to stand with him and attempt to get the tiny figurine that's caught his eye. It should be nice that when she fails enough times that she starts trying to shake the cabinet, Anzu appears, just barely hiding a smile as she tries to work the controls herself. And it should be nice, standing between these two nice girls and under their direction, eventually managing to take the prize for himself. There should be a nice, warm, fuzzy, proud feeling there, especially when they both pat him on the back. Mai even offers to double his arcade money, if he'll fetch her this adorable hair ribbon from another machine with a similar setup, and that should feel nice, too.

And yet, he only feels uncomfortable, his mind racing faster and faster with their every encouragement. Is this some kind of foreplay? Are they leading into a dare that's something like "Take off your clothes, blindfold yourself, and hold a pose for two hours"? Even more horrible things go through his mind; the spirit of the Ring always liked to terrify him with such images, and between the two of them, the girls seem determined to dredge every last one of them up.

I have to get out. I have to get out. I have to get out. I have to, I have to, I have to!

"Hey. Having fun?"

Just because Yugi hasn't made an appearance yet doesn't mean that Ryou's feeling much more settled about it all. Anzu's sharp voice, her hand on his shoulder, combined with a zombie's unholy screech, makes him jump so badly, the cabinet he was hunched over shakes against the wall. His character is ripped apart in a matter of seconds, and he whirls on her, ready to say something angry. Something about what she wants out of all of this. Something about– it's stupid. He lets it go, but she's caught his glare in a split second.

"That game's awfully violent, isn't it? Maybe try something less... bloody, okay? I just want this to be–"

Okay, now he's lost it. He's not a wimp, and he's sick of being treated like one. "Fun! You and Mai just think playing with Yugi's feelings is just some game, don't you? Don't you?!" He's yelling, loud enough that Anzu actually pulls back from him, and oh no he's crying and stammering, this looks awful, she probably hates him now. "Well, whatever! Just don't kis– I mean, I–I don't want to be involved! So don't... try a–anything, please...?"

Ryou stands there, head hanging, having screwed up gloriously on every conceivable level, and he expects her to walk out on him. He expects her to take the arcade money, at the very least. He wants it to happen, wants to be punished by Anzu for his own stupidity in agreeing to her 'surprise', then get thumped coming out the door by Jounouchi and Honda. It's what he deserves, after all.

But instead, she hugs him. She's shaking against him, giggling, though her grip on him is tense. "You idiot! I've been over Yugi for months now, honest. You didn't ask for an explanation or anything, so I thought Mai... She didn't, did she?"

"Well, I thought you did." The other girl sounds bored out of her wits, and for a moment, he worries that the embrace might be broken by the arrival of the team leader. But then perfume crashes over Ryou's senses, and he sags so far into the three–person tangle that the two girls are just about holding him up. Their giggles aren't audible given how loud the place is, but they thrum through his skin. Maybe that's for the best – although he's still in tears, the feeling tickles enough that he starts to laugh as well.

Of course, Mai is the first to try and pull away, being proud and older and all the rest of it. She gently pries one of Ryou's hands off her shoulder, and takes it in both her own. Her makeup's streaking, but to him, she still looks utterly gorgeous. Everything looks utterly gorgeous, actually - even the godawful pun names of those machines. Amazing what a bit of context, a lot of relief, and a big ol' group-hug can do; Yugi could walk in right now, and all Ryou would be inclined to do is wave wildly in his direction.

"Look – Anzu and I don't really like playing games alone. So, we started meeting up here. And since you're on your own a lot, and you like games, and you seem okay, we just thought..."

Anzu's muttering about sappy speeches is mostly lost under the sound of the arcade, but her shrug sends ripples through the group, and she's soon pulled them all back into an embrace. Mai stops, presumably knowing that the full explanation will have to wait. Between the intoxicating perfume and the sweet, sweet relief, the hug is too sublime for words.

Midnight.

He shouldn't be here–

No. He should be here.

He smiles up at the arcade.

The best night of the week is waiting.