Heh heh heh...Little Yugi's POV now...all warnings still apply...

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I can't stand him.

He's the Almighty Pharaoh, the real and Undefeated King of Games.

Everybody loves him.

He's perfect!

So what, why should I care right?

I'm the 'nice' one, the gentle friend that has a shoulder for everyone to cry on and never needs one himself.

Blah, blah, blah.

What a load of crap.

None of them ever cared about me, all they can see is 'The short kid who's other soul half is the definition of perfect.'

I've seen the looks.

They'll be having a problem, or even just doing nothing, and when I ask if I can help or just do nothing with them it's always the same.

'No thank you Yugi.'

'I need to run Yugi.'

'Sorry Yugi.'

'Why can't you be more like your Yami Yugi?'

That last is the only thing they never say directly.

I'm through with all of them.

If they want to be friends with him so badly they can just pick him out of my dead carcass!

I wonder if he even cares.

I have no doubts that he sees me as 'Helpless kid who I must show up at all times'.

I wouldn't be surprised if he thought I was slowing him down in life.

Screw it, it's my god-damned life we're talking about here!

He already got a chance to live, this is my body, my house, my back-stabbing group of friends…

Every other sentence is 'Yami this' and 'Yami that'.

So he's got magic.

So what?

Yami no Bakura has magic too, but nobody likes him.

I won't even bother to mention the rest of it.

The only one that doesn't worship the dirt Yami spits on is Kaiba, but that's just his ego getting in the way.

Personally, I think he might have the right idea.

Yami needs to be taken down a few pegs - getting his ass handed to him would be good for him.

Right now, I'm home alone.

Excluding him, of course.

Nobody's been around lately.

…Come to think of it, I haven't heard from Yami for a while myself.

Not that I care but just out of curiosity's sake I tried reaching out to him.

And hit a wall.

A wall made of something I didn't recognize at first.

Pure anger.

Pure depression.

Pure fear.

How long has this thing been up here?

I can hear something behind that wall, wordless pain and death echoing into infinity.

What was he playing at now?

I tore at that wall, ripped a crack, forced my way in.

All that met me was blackness.

...