I already had to warn the readers on AO3 but I guess now I have to make the same warning here as well. Stop pissing and moaning about Kaiba. I don't want an inbox full of Kaiba salt and complaints. I like Kaiba. He's not here to be an antagonist, or an obstacle. He's not here to steal Yugi's love away from Yami. He's here because he is a good (but misguided) friend, and Yugi's unrequited feels for him are meant to be an example of Yugi's depth and ability to forgive, reconcile, and even develop feelings for someone who once attempted to kill him. which is important to show considering, that Yami literally committed murder for Yugi in the original manga. Several times.

If you keep up the complaints I WILL make this a Flareshipping fic.

And if you like flareshipping, don't be cheeky and continue to bitch about Kaiba just so I make it Flare. you can just tell me, and we can be flare buddies.

That said, I WANT to keep this a Puzzleshipping fic. It's what I set out to write.

Without further ado. Enjoy.

Yugi stretched while he watched Yami drift about the kitchen preparing a simple breakfast. It was fantastic not to need crutches anymore. He bent to touch his fingertips to his toes, once, twice, three times, and when he rose, it was to a strange yet endearing sight. Yami had one hand slicing radish, the other scooping rice into a bowl, and a tentacle stirring a broth. When he finished dishing up rice, he sprinkled a handful of chopped scallions onto the dish, while a third hand manifested and broke an egg into a heated pan.

The meal he was preparing consisted of simple things Yami had practiced with Yugi over the past month. The shadow had started off by assisting Yugi and following his directions, but it hadn't taken him long to gain the confidence to cook on his own.

Not that he ate anything at all.

Yugi laid back on the floor against the wall, braced his legs on the surface above him and did a hamstring stretch. It felt good to check off another in his list of exercises designed to improve and recover the mobility he lost after the pelvic fracture. Proceeding to work through a few more stretches while his spirit friend continued to prepare breakfast, he was finishing up just as Yami was placing the food on the table.

Yami now had a total of four fully formed arms and hands, one tentacle, and three tendrils. His eyes were scrunched in concentration as he set the table, placed all the food, folded a napkin, poured some tea, and pulled out the chair for Yugi.

As Yami stepped away from the table and breakfast, his whole form faded to transparency. His arms and tendrils dissolved into his form until he was nothing more than a watery mass with glowing eyes and wisps shaped like Yugi's hair.

"Are you alright?" Yugi hesitated before the offered chair, giving the spirit a concerned look. Yami had insisted on cooking by himself this morning. He'd wanted to put everything he'd learned from Yugi to good use. Yugi hadn't seen any harm in it, and appreciated the gesture while he went about his morning routine.

Yami's eyes blinked slowly and his whole form—even the wisps of his hair—sagged. He reached a hand out to the Speak & Spell sitting on the table, and made to tap out a message on the keys. But his transparent hand failed to manipulate the object and instead fell onto it like a regular flat shadow. Yami lifted his hand away again, and narrowed his eyes. The end of his hand grew dark and opaque. He made to tap the keys again, and this time was successful.

"TIRED."

Yugi finally sat down and asked, "you can only stay corporeal for a limited amount of time?" He never noticed such limitations before, and Yami and him had spent a lot of days playing games together over the duration of his recovery.

Yami nodded in response as his eyes closed and disappeared from sight. It didn't seem to impair his ability to see however, because he tapped out one more message.

"DO NOT FORGET MOM'S BIRTHDAY."

Then his hand faded out again and the whole arm disappeared into his side. Yami puddled to the floor, and disappeared into the silhouette of Yugi's shadow. It was normal for Yugi to be able to see a subtle difference in his shadow when Yami hid inside it. But now, it appeared like he wasn't there at all.

He didn't have time to dwell on that though, because his brain caught up to what Yami had said. Crap! Was it Mom's birthday!? He ripped his cell phone out of his pajama pockets and checked the date. Tomorrow! It's her birthday tomorrow! How could I forget?! Yugi hastily tapped out a text to his mom, asking to take her out for dinner if she didn't have plans already. When he finished, he placed the phone on the table and breathed out a sigh of relief. He would have to pick her up a gift after work today.

"Thank you," he told the empty room, assuming Yami could hear him regardless. He relaxed and picked up his chopsticks. His stomach growling for the delicious spread before him, Yugi dug in.

He was just picking up his tea to wash down a mouthful of food when he froze. How did he know it was my Mom's birthday?

0000

Yami crawled out of the puzzle later that day when Yugi was at work. He felt sluggish and heavy as his consciousness spilled from Yugi's heart and into his shadow. It was Yugi's second day back at Kaiba Corp and already his host was throwing himself head-first into his work.

Like, intensely so. Yami could feel the thick miasma of guilt that hung around Yugi like an oppressive mist. Guilt and stress and earnest determination layered so thick it choked their mind link, ensuring no stray thought bled through, only the sickening emotion.

Yami attempted to radiate feelings of tranquility and reassurance, but Yugi appeared to unconsciously block him out, leaving Yami to fret over Yugi all day.

His host didn't eat lunch, didn't take a break, and only stopped to use the bathroom or make himself some coffee in the break room. Afternoon spilled into evening, and Yugi didn't stop for dinner either.

Yami could feel the gnawing hunger permeate the link, so intense it was nauseating and astonishing that Yugi could continue to ignore it.

And there was nothing he could do.

Not a damn thing.

Because Yami was supposed to be a fucking "house" ghost.

He contemplated taking possession, dragging his host's soul by force into the shadows and leaving him there while he took their body out for dinner.

Something like that wouldn't escape Yugi's scrutiny, but dammit if it wasn't tempting.

It was almost half past eight when Yugi closed his laptop and dumped all his paperwork into his briefcase. Yami could have swooned in relief, and very nearly oozed out of the confines of Yugi's shadow.

The interior of Kaiba Corp was dim this late into the evening. Most of the employees had gone home for the day, save for a few other overworking stragglers that like Yugi dotted the halls with their office lights. The building was quiet, except for the low hum of electricity and fluorescent bulbs. Yugi's foot falls on the tiled floor sounded especially loud as he exited his office, snapped off the light and made for the elevators.

Yami slipped along after him, a weighty presence in his shadow.

These past two days he refused to let Yugi out of his sight. And despite the boredom of watching someone do paperwork all day, he'd only given into the temptation to wander up to Kaiba's office once. Just to check on their neglected chess game. He'd discovered a note that read, 'where the fuck did you go?' and nothing on the board had been changed. The half-played game was still the same as it had been before Yugi had gone on recovery leave.

Yami had balled up the note, tossed it on the floor and moved one of the chess pieces to continue the game.

But that had been his only foray away from his host. He needed to know that during this first week back Yugi was safe. There would be no chance for another incident with Mr. PR Guy or the like. And his being thrummed with the lust to punish anyone who should try.

Fortunately, nothing concerning happened. Yugi descended the building, bid the security guards farewell, and left out the front entrance. He started off towards the metro station without incident, using his cell to look up the business hours of the nearest shopping district that would be on his route home. Yami could feel the simple pleasure Yugi felt at walking again. The pleasure of having his mobility back.

And when he sucked in a breath of the crisp early autumn night air, Yami could almost taste it through him.

It wasn't perfect by any stretch, but Yugi did stop by a convenience store to pick up a prepackaged egg sandwich, scarfing it down while on his mission to find a birthday present for Mom.

0000

"I can't believe your boss gave you a Lexus."

"Neither can I," Yugi laughed as he steadied his tipsy mom up the last flight of stairs. For some reason the elevator was locked tonight. It could have been broken, or it might have been vandalized. Who knew?

"But it was sooooo nice," his mother, Azumi, gushed with a slight slur to her words.

"Only the best for Mom's birthday." Really, it was. This had been the first time Yugi drove the Lexus, and he did it because he wanted to spoil his mom. He'd picked her up in the car and she'd fawned over it like a teenage girl.

"One more step," Yugi coaxed her up onto the landing of his apartment's floor. Azumi leaned heavily into him, and almost sent them both careening into the floor. He could smell the tang of mixed drinks on her breath, even amidst the perfume she wore.

"Finaaaaalllly!" she bemoaned a little too loudly for the late hour. "I don't know why you need to live at the top of a skyscraper."

"I live on the third floor of an apartment complex," Yugi corrected her patiently, and with effort managed to right them both. He cursed his small stature. His mom wasn't even a tall woman, but she was still taller than him.

"So much more stairs than home," she drawled.

"Only, one more flight than home." Yugi pulled her towards his apartment, grateful she regained enough balance to follow along after him. "And you're the one who wanted to stay at my place anyway."

"Dad will yell at me if I go home like this," Azumi confessed not for the first time that night, sounding like a guilty child. She wasn't wrong. Yugi had to admit, the probability that Grandpa would give her an earful for partying a little too hard, even if it was for her birthday, was high. Preferring to go to bed early these days, he would have been grouchy at having to stay up and put his daughter to bed.

"I won't yell at you, Mom."

"I have the best sons," she mumbled into his hair. "Taking me to dinner, then takes me to a karaoke bar, buys me drinks and lets me sleep on the couch."

Yugi felt the swell of pride in his chest at her drunken praise and tried to hide his lopsided smile while he dug out his keys. "I'm your only son."

"And an amazing talented one. I can't believe you kicked my butt at karaoke tonight," Azumi segued the conversation.

"I don't remember that happening." Yugi chuckled as he kept her steady, unlocking the door and shouldering it open. His mom followed him in without fuss, and even clumsily kicked off her own shoes. Although one missed the area of the shoe shelf entirely and ended up halfway across the living room.

"Whoops," she said, and while she appeared guilty, she also made no attempt to go fetch it. Yugi guided her to the couch and gestured for her to sit down. With dramatic flair, she flopped onto it like a fainting woman. "Seriously, you were killing it tonight. How did you learn to sing that low?"

Yugi made for the kitchen, shaking his head as he replied, "Really mom, I did poorly at karaoke. I think you're misremembering because you're drunk."

"I am not dismembering!" she refuted in the way drunk people tend to when they were being brushed off. "You were nailing all the low notes and beating me…" The sentence trailed off into a pathetic whine, and she must have buried her face into a pillow because it was muffled.

Yugi poured her a glass of water and brought it back into the living room. "Here mom, drink this." He felt a niggling of suspicion concerning the validity of his Mom's claims. There were a few strange gaps in his memory tonight, instances where he lost small chunks of time. But then this wasn't an unusual occurrence for him. Do I sing better when I have blackouts?

She managed to sit up enough to take the glass, surprisingly didn't spill it, and took several gulps.

Yugi left again to gather up a pillow and a blanket. When he returned the almost empty glass was on the side table and she was already strewn across the couch. His smile was fond as he tucked the pillow under her head and draped the blanket over her.

"I hope you had a great birthday."

"I did," came her sleepy mumble.

"Goodnight Mom."

"G'night sweetheart."

He locked the door, clicked off the lights, then disappeared down the hall towards his bedroom.

About ten minutes later though, Yugi walked back out to the kitchen dressed in pajamas and his hair a mess. He poured himself a glass of water, carrying it with him as he crept back into the living room. He moved to the end of the couch and gazed down at Azumi with dark red eyes.

She appeared to be asleep already, eyes shut and breathing soft. Yugi carefully leaned down and placed a very gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight Mom," he whispered, affection evident in the repeated words, but spoken in a timbre lower than what it had been minutes ago.

When he pulled away Azumi was not asleep. She was staring up at him with startling intensity. "You," she accused with narrowed eyes and a lopsided sneer. "You're the little shit who beat me at karaoke tonight."

With a wicked grin he straightened up, blood red eyes holding an otherworldly glint. "Happy Birthday."

0000

The end of the week rolled around. Yugi wandered out into the living room rubbing at bleary eyes. He felt like crap, slept like crap, and swore he'd woken up sleeping on a certain shadow's chest, wrapped in the sweetest of embraces. That was until he'd blinked and found it was only his own shadow beneath him. Flat, unresponsive, and intangible.

He'd gazed around his dark bedroom with sleepy eyes struggling to adapted to the low light, only to fix on his alarm clock. Still too early for his alarm to go off. So he'd collapsed back into his pillows and surrendered himself back to sleep. Just another hour.

The hour hadn't helped. Exhaustion continued to plague him as he got up for work.

He padded out to the entrance of the living room and caught sight of a familiar black shadow sitting on the couch and staring intently at something before him.

Curious, Yugi wandered a little closer, his socked feet making little noise on the carpeted floor. He stopped a foot away from the back of the couch and realized Yami was staring at his own hand.

Or not his hand. A hand? A severed hand?

His blood ran cold. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Where on earth did you get a severed hand?

The hand in question had dark skin with lighter tones on the palm. The fingers were curled up like claws, or like a person tensing so hard the tendons in their hand drew tight as bow strings. But when Yugi looked harder, he could see the shape and edges of his coffee table through the hand as if it were translucent. His eyes followed the line of the wrist that faded into pitch blackness, and realized it was most certainly Yami's hand, not some macabre trophy from a nameless victim.

Yugi must have let loose a sharp exhale because Yami's whole form suddenly bristled, and wisps of black engulfed the human-looking hand. Gone. As if it had never been there seconds before.

Yami whirled around, rising from the couch to pin Yugi with a stare from all three of his blazing eyes.

For a long moment, no words passed between them, just silent tension. It was as if Yami was waiting for him to say something, anything, but Yugi didn't have the words to ask about what he'd just seen. When he finally tried to open his mouth to speak, Yami turned on a his heel, looking as if his hands were stuffed in phantom pockets, and strolled into the kitchen out of sight.

0000

Yami kept his distance that day. He knew Yugi had seen him that morning, and he knew Yugi would ask about it. He also wasn't ready to explain himself. Not yet.

He cooked his host a simple breakfast of toast and eggs before work. They needed to go grocery shopping again. The fridge was looking barren, a sight he'd been spoiled not to see for the past few months. Yami missed Otogi desperately. Otogi had never let Yugi go hungry. But once Yugi no longer required the crutches, he decided he didn't need his assistant cooking for him anymore either. Although Otogi had still come by to check in, run errands, and help Yugi prepare for going back to work.

Throughout the majority of the morning, Yami stayed in the puzzle. He noted that Yugi chose to drive the Lexus, his second time driving it to work. Ever since he took his mom out for her birthday, he'd been reluctantly more interested in the fancy car. Yami couldn't place a finger on why that made his stomach burn like acid. He still wanted to smash it.

He took the opportunity to sit in Yugi's soul room and bask in the pleasant atmosphere that was his light's domain. He threw himself on the soft bed and tossed the Blue Eyes White Dragon plushie on the floor again. It bounced on the floor like a dog toy. As it should.

His red eyes appraised the bright colors and cheerful decorations of the room. It was… tidier than he remembered. But just a little. Instead of games or puzzles sitting half-played, and half-put together, some games were put away, and the puzzles were completed. The match box cars that had been on the floor once, now stowed away neatly in a toy box. And the complex ramp system for them that Yami had played with on more than one occasion was disassembled and put away as well.

Yami wondered what the change meant, but hadn't the foggiest idea.

There were still video games all over the place though. And many stuffed animals, as well as a half-played match of duel monsters.

He flopped back into the pillows with the intent to stare at the ceiling, and smacked his head on something hard.

"Ouch!" Yami shot up and swiped a hand under the pillow. It touched hard, cool plastic. He closed his fingers around a familiar shape. After a moment of hesitation he slipped the thing out from under the mound of pillows, gaze drawn to the bright red and yellow colors. It was a Speak & Spell.

Yugi had a Speak & Spell in his soul room. On his bed. Under his pillows.

His heart constricted so hard in his chest that had he been required to breathe, he might have passed out.

Yami stroked his fingers over the surface of the toy computer. As if he were afraid that the almost indestructible toy might break apart in his hands if he wasn't careful.

He pressed the on button, the light in the little display screen blinked on. Then he hit the enter key, curious if there was a message already keyed up.

"AIBOU." It said in its usual unnerving synthetic voice.

"Aibou…" Yami said back in a throaty whisper.

He placed the toy back against the pillows with reverence, his fingers lingering over the buttons. He pressed the enter key once more to hear it speak the term of endearment. It still made his chest constrict and ghost of a heart race.

He rose from the bed and gripped the puzzle hanging off his neck. It pulsed with magic, a familiar weight in his hands. He closed his eyes, letting his consciousness drift out of the soul room and return to the plane of the living.

Yami manifested in Yugi's shadow, greeted by the familiar setting of his Kaiba Corp office. It was peaceful and quiet in the office today. He tried to gauge what Yugi was up to.

He listened for the scratch of a pen against paper, the tap tappity tap of computer keys, or even the voice of a coworker that might have stepped in to talk.

Silence reached him.

Only the familiar hum of electricity and florescent lights permeated the quiet that hung about Yugi's office like a mist.

Yami reached out for Yugi via the mind link hoping to get a read of the situation.

The link was as silent as the office. This was not like Yugi. Even if he could not decipher words, he could always pick up a general idea of Yugi's emotions.

The wrongness gripped Yami like hands at his throat. He stepped up and out of the shadow, curious as he drew up to loom over Yugi's shoulder. Yugi was slumped in his desk.

His face smooshed against paperwork, a hand resting on his laptop, the weight pressing down the K key, and leaving a string of K's on his document that spanned three and a half pages.

Did Yugi pass out? When? Why?

Yami poured into his host, forcing a possession. He hadn't even lifted his head from the desk when a wave of dizziness and nausea hit him so hard he thought the room was spinning. He lost control immediately and everything went black.

Shadows poured out of Yugi again, frantic and shaking him in vain attempts to rouse him.

It had felt hot when Yami briefly took possession. Hot, exhausted, hungry, and disorienting.

He tried again to control their afflicted body, this attempt just as much a spectacular failure as the last.

Yami pooled out of the puzzle more distressed than before, his shape near formless like a mass of writhing wisps. The panic choked him, those fingers constricting tighter around his throat. Claws, like shards of ice sank into his heart, pulling it apart.

Kaiba! Kaiba can help.

Yami rooted around Yugi's pocket and extracted his cell phone. He hit the unlock button only to be prompted for Face ID verification. Then promptly denied.

What is a Face ID? He cursed not keeping up with Yugi's frequent new phones. They never used to be this complicated.

He tried unlocking the device again, only to be denied by the Face ID a second time.

By the third attempt it asked for a password he didn't know—he tried half a dozen of Yugi's previous passwords—and ended up hurling the device to the ground.

I will just get Kaiba myself!

Yami leapt for the wall, slipping up the surface to squeeze into the ventilation. He cared not if he dented another few of the slats in his haste. Through the maze of ductwork he raced up to Kaiba's office, spilling into the room without checking it first. It was empty.

The lights were off, the door locked. It looked like the CEO was out of the building for the day.

Yami exploded into a mass of frustrated, wildly twisting tendrils. He ripped the vent cover off the wall—sending screws raining over the tiled floor—and threw it aside where it clattered loudly and left scratches on the polished surface. Diving straight back into the ventilation, he returned to his host.

Home. Take him home.

As he slipped back into Yugi's office he managed to pull himself back into a human shape. Bending down, he scooped the unconscious Yugi into his arms. Black arms clutched him to his chest, his most precious treasure, his host, his light. His everything. He took one step towards the office door when he froze with hesitation.

Nothing else matters. Only him.

Yami broke into a stride for the door, a burst of magic popping the lock and wrenching it open before him. He started out of the office cradling Yugi to him.

He passed an intern in the hall who dropped two coffees and an armful of files. His golden eyes swept over the intern like he didn't exist, no acknowledgement. Yami carried on until he reached the elevator, using a tendril to smash the button that would summon it.

Upon deciding it was taking too long he let shadows pour from the puzzle and dragged the contraption to his floor by force. He pried the steel doors open and stepped inside.

It was empty, a small mercy.

Not that he cared if he terrorized a few employees. In for a penny, in for a pound.

He smashed the ground floor button with his boot. The doors closed with a jerk, and the elevator began its descent.

Yami took the respite to assess the man in his arms. Yugi was breathing fine. A little heavier than usual but not rasping. His skin was flushed though, and a sheen of sweat coated his skin. His bangs clung in mats to his sticky forehead, and his limbs hung limply, a deadweight in Yami's embrace.

I will protect you. I promised you this. But how do I protect you from yourself? He resisted the urge to pace, never remembering the elevators taking this long before, and almost jumped when the contraption dinged its arrival to ground floor.

His shadows wrenched the automatic doors apart causing an unpleasant grinding noise, likely stripping some gears in the motors.

He was off across the lobby, passed the front desk and straight for the next elevator that would take him to the parking garage.

Security guards, employees, desk clerks, all around him people stopped to gawk. A sea of horrified dumbstruck faces. If he'd paused for a moment to consider them it might have tripped him up, made him question himself and doubt his choice. But there was no space for them.

He weaved around a woman with a bagel and a cell phone to her ear, too stunned to move out of his way. She flinched as he passed her by, he barely spared her half a glance. The cell phone slipped from her grasp.

When he reached the next set of elevators he kicked the summon button again, the opening of the doors almost immediate this time. He stalked inside, and three frightened employees spilled out, scrambling ass over teakettle to get away from him. A sick mosaic of stricken and horrified faces looked into the elevator car after him and the unconscious man in his arms.

Yami's magic dragged the elevator doors closed on those faces, and his heel struck the button for the correct floor of the parking garage.

Yet another mercy, this ride was shorter, and Yami was out the elevator and sweeping Yugi through the dim interior in no time. The thick shadows and concrete pillars reminded him of a time months ago when they had been here playing a sinister game. That time felt like a distant memory and a fresh wound simultaneously.

He reached the car without encountering anyone else, and fished Yugi's keys from his pocket. One tentacle unlocked the door while another pulled it open. Yami dipped in and placed Yugi into the passenger seat with the utmost care, making certain to fasten his seat belt.

Then he dropped into the driver's seat and jammed the key into the ignition.

He'd never driven a car before.

He turned the key. The engine purred smoothly to life.

But he'd been present during Yugi's diving lessons.

Yami threw the car in reverse, backing out of the parking space. This felt alright. He'd played enough driving video games with toy steering wheels. He returned the car to drive, straightened out the wheel, then sent the car rocketing out of the parking garage like a hellacious demon.

Yami knew enough to obey the laws and not draw the attention of police. That didn't stop pedestrians and fellow drivers from giving him looks though. Some in disbelief, the occasional double takes and expressions of horror.

He came to a stop light next to a woman in a little blue city car. She was sipping an iced tea through a straw when she looked over. Yami kept two of his eyes on the road, but his third eye turned its pupil in her direction. The cup of tea tumbled from her hands and spilled all over her lap. The light turned green as she groped about for napkins. He was already speeding off across the intersection when she looked up to affirm the thing she saw had even been real. The cars behind her honked in annoyance.

When the red Lexus pulled into Yugi's apartment parking lot his feet were already starting to go incorporeal. One of them passed right through the break and he had to stomp it a second time with more concentration to bring the car to a halt. He ended up taking two spaces in the process of parking and gave no fucks. He put the car into park, killed the engine, and gathered Yugi out of the passengers seat.

The building elevator was still out of order and locked, so he flew up the stairwell taking the steps two at a time and feeling his feet sink into a few. It was not unlike what one might feel walking through unpacked snow.

He poured his concentration into not dropping his host.

Another pulse of magic unlocked the apartment door, blowing it open with a force that made the hinges protest. Yami swept inside, kicking the door closed again with his heel.

He took Yugi straight to the bedroom and placed him on the bed.

Then began the painstaking process of putting his light to bed while fast losing the ability manipulate objects. He stripped off Yugi's shoes, pants, and shirt, fingertips passing over the materials, sometimes several times, before he mustered the concentration to grasp them. He snagged a nightshirt from the drawer and pulled it over Yugi's head. Satisfied he laid him back on the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

He left the room then and made for the bathroom and kitchen. Yami returned moments later with a glass of water, some medicine to treat the fever, his Speak & Spell, and a cold compress. When he placed the cold compress to Yugi's forehead it roused him enough for the medicine.

Yugi blinked hazed purple eyes at him, then looked about the room in confusion. "How did I get here?"

Yami tapped a message into the Speak & Spell with his tendrils while he also helped Yugi sit up a little.

"I BROUGHT YOU HOME."

"Oh…" Yugi said slowly, disoriented. Yami pressed the little cup of medicine to his lips and he drank it without question. Then he coaxed Yugi to drink some water, which he did, lazy but greedy, like some unfortunate soul who'd been lost in a desert. "Thank you," he murmured when Yami pulled the cup away. "How did you…" he trailed off, his eyes drooping again.

Yami set the cup aside and helped Yugi to lay down again, tucking the blankets back in place. He pulled the millennium puzzle out from under them, so it laid on top of the comforter. Then he placed a void hand over the eye on the front of the inverted pyramid and gestured to the third eye on his forehead.

"I LIVE IN HERE. YUGI."

Foggy violet eyes scrunched in thought or confusion, he wasn't sure. All of Yami's wispy edges curled in anxious tension.

"Ok…" Yugi finally whispered, he placed his hand over Yami's on the puzzle, then his eyes slipped shut and he drifted off again.

For the first time it was like the wretched grip on his throat, the thorough hold that had choked him the entire way home, released him.

Yami managed to keep himself together enough to scribble one last note and place it on the nightstand. He stuck it right next to the half empty cup of water.

Content that Yugi would be alright now, he let his form lose its shape. The Speak and Spell that had been on his lap clattered to the floor as his tangibility faded away. He melted onto the bed until he was just a translucent puddle of shadow with droopy, wispy spikes. Soon he would retreat to the puzzle, but for a moment he curled around Yugi in exhaustion.

Although he couldn't sleep, this state of complete depletion and numb mindless fog felt as close to it as he'd ever gotten.

This chapter is dedicated to my late mother. It's the anniversary of her passing and I wanted to honor her memory. She always loved and supported my writing. Even my fanfiction. Love you mom.

I chose the name Azumi for Yugi's mom because the name means safe residence. I thought that quite fitting considering the theme of this story.