Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Short, sweet, and to the point.

Thank you to Deviousdragon and the little vampire lover for reading and reviewing this story. You guys rock.

000

Seen, Not Pitied

Winter gradually lessened in its cold, howling, windy nights. As the cold season drew to a close, less and less hot cocoa was put on the stove, less and less scarves were donned, and less and less people were confined to bed for the flu.

Anzu also found herself still visiting Yuugi Mutou.

She couldn't tell him no; not that cruelly. And every time she tried to muster up the cold anger and indifference she treated almost all others with, the hopeful flicker in his eyes melted the resistance like ice cream in the desert.

So she went back. And he kept talking to her, and - most reluctantly - she responded. After a time, her attempted refusals faded a bit, and she found herself – once or twice – waiting quite peaceably to visit.

She was also disgusted to find that she wasn't disgusted at this reaction. In fact, she often began to enjoy the visits.

Not that she'd admit it.

Yami didn't seem to mind when she left. She didn't know what he did with his time, but she hoped he was finding something to do. Every time she asked, he shook his head and refused to say anything.

Still, Anzu considered herself and Yuugi as something less than friends. Acquaintances, perhaps, but friends? Never.

Yuugi came home with more and more bruises. She found herself growing more and more agitated. He never mentioned them, even though his fair skin seemed to become more mottled by the day.

"It ruins your looks," she commented once. "Ruins your facial features." His blush had turned him completely red, mumbling incoherently and scuffing his feet against the floor.

She'd almost found it amusing until she remembered that when a human blushed, it meant a great deal of blood colored their skin.

She'd left rather quickly.

But no, they weren't really friends. She didn't really ask about the bullies, or school, or anything else. It was still foreign to her mind that he might like her at all. No, they were barely friends, if anything. She could have cared less about Yuugi Mutou. He could have been beat up for all she cared.

Really.

000

It wasn't like him to be late.

Anzu observed the room, watching the desk, the bed, everything that had become so familiar to her over the past month. The bed was hardly tidy, pajamas hanging in the closet, one puzzle from the other night left out. The lamp flickered, as though exhausted from its use. Perhaps he'd forgotten it that morning?

The door remained immovably closed. Her tail tapped against the roof impatiently. It made a soft thumping noise, only irritating her more.

He'd ben fine last night.

Where was he?

Apparently, the Grandfather was wondering the same thing. Several times, he paced up the stairs, short, stocky form appearing in the doorway more and more frequently, as though he thought Yuugi might somehow appear out of nowhere, smiling the way he did. Sometimes he paced, sometimes he left immediately, until at last he didn't return within fifteen minutes.

Anzu glared at the window. Finally, she slid her claws underneath it and pried it painfully apart. Her claws dug into the wood, but she ignored the scratches she left. She slid inside, and for the first time crept out the door, watching in silence from the stairs.

The Grandfather was on the phone. Yuugi had explained it to her; not that she hadn't known what it was- she just didn't spend too much time around appliances any more.

Yuugi ought to get a…what was it? Cell phone, yeah, that was it…

Anzu couldn't imagine herself with one of those crazy little things.

She cocked her head to the side, catlike ears flattening. There was a voice on the other end, and it sounded urgent.

The Grandfather's face didn't change at all. He reminded her of a sculpture, face impassive and steel. Or perhaps stone, despite the bushy eyebrows and whiskers. He hung up on the phone and left the room, a faint jingle emanating from the game store door.

Without another thought, Anzu climbed back onto the roof, extended her wings and flew after the tiny car he drove. She had no idea where he was going.

And she honestly didn't care.

000

The school was big. Well, not absolutely huge, but fairly big. As far as she knew of schools.

Alright she was guessing, who cared?

She skirted the outside of the school, observing the walls. She perched on the edge of the building, looking for all the world like a slender stone gargoyle.

The Grandfather was there. Someone was talking to him at the front door, looking very nervous and worried. They were going inside, but even as the door closed she faintly heard…

"…Have no idea who did it, but-"

The Grandfather's hot rebuke was muffled by the door closing. Anzu cursed softly.

What was going on?

She couldn't follow through the door. It wasn't a home, but the rules still applied.

Dangit.

Her wings slid open and she flew on a current of air to the other side of the school. Crawling along the wall like a lizard, she tilted her head, listening intently. Windows, windows, was there no end of windows? Still, she could take an open one as a nonverbal invitation, couldn't she?

Digging her claws into the stony brick, Anzu stopped as she heard from inside a woman, speaking.

"Lucky he wasn't hurt worse, he is. Poor thing, he's been asleep since this afternoon?"

Another voice, but more official, kind but intelligent came next. Anzu could hear her nod. "No bones are broken, but there might be mild concussion. It almost looks as if they threw him against the wall."

Finding the open window, Anzu focused on the conversation more. She hung just above the window, out of the light pouring from inside. Her tail dangled down, just out of sight.

The other woman let out a soft gasp, perhaps in pity. "Oh! But he's so little…how could they? Oh, four against one, he was probably attacked right after school…poor little thing, how could they do that to him? What did he do to them? What did Yuugi ever do to them?"

Anzu felt her mind stop. It struggled to piece this information together. The women were speaking again, but her ears were buzzing. Yuugi? Hurt? But…who…?

"Do they know who did it?"

A frustrated sigh echoed from inside. "No, they don't. It could be anyone, anyone at all. No one will ever sit near him, they all pick on him. He doesn't have any friends, unless you count that Jonouchi boy…"

Anzu blinked, hearing the door inside clatter shut. The voices faded away.

Yuugi…? He's…hurt…? Someone actually HURT Yuugi? SOMEONE had actually had it in them to HURT him?

There was no rage to her mind…just confusion. Someone could actually…hurt Yuugi? They had enough hate to hurt him? HIM, of all people?

That was like…like…hurting Yuugi wasn't…it…who…?

A numb sensation in her limbs, Anzu slipped into the window. She didn't really register what the room looked like, although pale walls and a tile floor would always stay in the memory. The dark demon form slipped away, a human standing where a monster had.

Anzu stared at the small bad beneath the windows. Yuugi…?

It was him. It was obviously him, but he was different. So, so different…

Bruises and scratches peppered his features. His clothes were ripped and torn, and a bandage was wrapped around his forehead. His face was so still, but in a permanent, pained frown. Anzu dumbly reached out with her cold hand, blindly running her fingers over the bandage.

She wasn't outraged. Or upset. Just bewildered. If she…a monster…had been unable to hurt him…what human could possibly do this to him? What kind of anything could do this to him? What had he done…?

Nothing. He hadn't deserved this then? They'd just hit him and hurt him because…because…

Just because.

Anzu stared, fingers trailing confusedly through the messy gold bangs against the bandage. He twitched, flinching.

"Almost looks as if they threw him against the wall…"

Why? Even-even Bakura wouldn't-

Oh, wouldn't he?

He's hurt Khonsu…Khonsu was hurt…weren't we talking about Yuugi?

Is there that much difference? Yes…

"Those kinds of people make good friends…" The kind you trust? Why do you trust-?

"I owe you my life. I think that's enough reason to trust someone, don't you?"

Because you owe them? You trust because you owe them?

If I trust you…do I owe you?

Anzu blinked. She was sitting on the infirmary bed, next to him, stroking his forehead, just like she did for Khonsu. His face was different from Khonsu's…it wasn't all angled and sharp and strong, not a handsome build. No, it was…soft. His skin was smooth, face gently rounded with a child-like air of innocence…

He looked so helpless, lying there on that bed, covers drawn up to his chin. Somehow, her mind drifted to Yami, lying on the coast, looking so very, very tired. So very, very sad.

Was their pain so different?

As she drew her nails under his chin, he stirred. Anzu stared for a moment. Yuugi?

Hurt.

Her eyes narrowed. She lowered her face an inch, looking directly at the boy. "Yuugi," she said sharply.

His eyes barely opened, fluttering. He stared at her, eyes glazed and unfocused. He blinked, eyes directing onto hers. They widened, reflecting every lamp and light in the room in their shining depths. Weakly struggling to sit up, he shook his head slightly.

"Yuugi." Her eyes glittered like a crocodile's. He stared at her, blinking. "Who did this to you?"

His eyes grew larger, as if in faint recognition. "A-Anzu?"

His voice was so faint…so weak…was it really the shy tone she'd heard so much before? And why was he so shocked?

"Y-You're-?" He reached out with one hand and his fingers, trembling, made contact with her face. Wake up. You're in human form, idiot.

With more vise than she intended, Anzu gripped his wrist. "Yuugi. Who. Did. This?" With every word, her fist tightened.

He stared at her, eyes barely showing him acknowledging the pain. "I-I don't know…th-they came so fast, I-"

"Don't. Lie. To. Me." A dim, frightened light appeared in his eyes. Why-?

She stared at her fist, clenching his hand. How hard was she holding him? Anzu released his hand, feeling a sick lurch at the red marks. He pulled his hand away, not quickly. But not slowly, either.

"Yuugi, who did this? Tell me, now."

He blinked again and again. "Anzu, don't hurt them, please."

What?

WHAT!?!?

They'd-they'd hurt him! And he-!

"Yuugi-they hurt you! They hurt you! They attacked you, bruised you, hurt you, and you don't want revenge!?" Anzu's voice was a snarl.

He lowered his eyes. "No. Anzu, please…I don't want anyone hurt…not because of me…"

Anzu was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth, then closed it. "Yuugi…you…"

He looked up. "Please?" That pleading, begging look.

Had he looked up at those that beat him with those same, piteous eyes? Those eyes that bespoke his soul, his pain. Had they SEEN those eyes and laughed? Had they SEEN those eyes and struck?

Had they SEEN those eyes, and not PITIED?

She swallowed with difficulty. "Yuugi, who did this? Tell me."

He shut his eyes. "One-one was a hall monitor…his name is Ushio."

Oh, a hall monitor? What a lovely justice system.

She turned to the window. Black flesh crept around her, darkness coalescing into her dark form. Yuugi stared at her, as though unsure whether to flinch away or move closer in fascination.

She growled, claws clenching the window, digging into the stone. That rage, pumping through her, it was adrenaline, it was raw, it was power. It was energy, suffusing her limbs and building through her muscles. It was energy to rip, to tear, to kill.

"Anzu." She looked down, at that face. He was barely standing, trembling where he stood, limbs shaking like they'd fallen asleep. His hands cupped one of her own, claws and all.

"Please." He stumbled, against her dark form.

Without thinking, she ducked enough to grab him, and lowered him gently to the ground, body limp and exhausted.

I think that nurse needs to check more carefully…this isn't a mild concussion…

She slid her claws under him, lifting him onto the bed. There was no resisting movement.

Ushio.The name rang like a brass bell, a warning, a jangling, clanging alarm bell that needed to be destroyed. Curling back her thin lips into a snarl, her fangs slid forth and she vanished out the window, just before the door clattered open.

The nurse never would know where the jagged, cracked mars in the wall had come from.

000

Hm…not sure if this is a cliffie…sure is suspenseful! Review, please!