Some thoughts:

Thanks again—as always—to DJ for all his help and support, especially through the rough times in this story. Thanks to all my readers, I love you guys! I was just in a thankful mood today as I finished up this chapter for some reason. It wouldn't have come so far without all the support it has received. And the great receiving it has experienced! I never thought I'd get so many reviews for a Yugi/Mai! I'm so glad that you guys enjoy this story. I really thought in the beginning that I'd be writing it for myself and myself only. +sigh+ I can only quote, "Life is what happens when you are making other plans". lol.

Yami hadn't slept at all that night. His utter revulsion with himself burned like a rash inside his chest, and he tossed and turned until sunrise, when his eyes were so tired that he had to close them. Still he did not sleep.

Yugi had crept into bed not much later after he had, but the boy had thought Yami asleep, and had tried his best to be quiet.

He deserves to step on me. Yami thought bitterly to himself, and then wished he would, hoping that maybe at least that would make Yami feel better about his crime. But he didn't step on him, and still Yami was shaking with the agony of undiscovered deceit.

When the clock, with its dull light, told Yami it was fifteen after six, he got up and dressed, knowing it was no use, there would be no rest for him.

He took to cleaning the kitchen, giving it a thorough scrub down. He organized the cabinets, cleaned the fridge, washed the cupboard doors…the work kept his mind off of reality.

When he was finished he trotted up the steps to take a shower and get himself clean from the dingy work. Yugi was still asleep. The shower felt good, though he still didn't feel clean, and when he emerged he knew the time had come.

It was nearly ten, Yugi still hadn't woken up, and Yami thanked Rah for that as he took the cordless phone and hid in the closet to make that so very important phone call he knew was inevitable from the beginning.

* * *

At half past twelve Yami waited impatiently, both dreading and anxious. The rain drizzled outside, the clouds rushing in faster than he thought possible, reminding him of once when—

He shook off his thoughts and cast his gaze to the menu that was scrawled across a beaten chalkboard above the marble slab that made a counter and bore a register.

The mocha espresso in front of him was growing cold and the foam on the surface began to creep to the edges of the paper cup. He didn't much care. He enjoyed coffee; it reminded him of a strong tea he used to drink in Egypt, but he wasn't in the mood.

It was cold outside, the warm brew seemed tempting, but now, after several sips, he imagined he would enjoy it more as an object to stare at than to drink.

There was the little ching-a-ling of the door's bell, and he snapped his eyes towards the newcomer.

Mai.

Her face when she saw him was cheerful enough, but the underlying lines of concern and even worry were present, and he sighed before giving her a nod in greeting.

She slid into the seat opposite him, her brows furrowed, and took her coat off, letting it drop into the waiting back of the chair. Her purse dropped as well, to the floor; still she looked at him questioningly.

"What's wrong?" She asked, and his eyes glanced somewhere else before looking her in the face. "When you called you made it sound urgent. Is something wrong? Is your grandpa OK—"

"No, it's nothing like that." He interrupted quietly, and she looked at him even more questioningly. "Mai…I need to talk to you."

* * *

Yugi glanced around the kitchen in search of Yami, but had no luck. He hadn't seen Yami since he had woken up about eleven, and now at three-thirty he was worried for the Pharaoh.

The answering machine flickered its red light, and he pressed his pointer finger to the play button and swiped a hand through his hair while he waited for a voice. His eyes darted here and there for any signs of Yami's whereabouts, and he jumped at the sound of Mai's voice.

"Yugi, I'm going to be just a few minutes later than three-fifteen. No more than ten, I swear. Sorry—hope you get this message. It's the ground bean, right? I love you…"

The machine clicked and went to a beep-beep-beep before he turned it off, his mind a massive mess of confusion.

Yami.

It struck him like such a punch to his chest he felt himself sway for a brief moment before he shot like a light through the door, grasping his coat on the way.

What would Yami want with Mai? He asked himself as he trotted down to the bus stop. Hopefully it wasn't bad news. Hopefully... But he couldn't finish any thoughts, too confused for any ground of thought at all.

* * *

"A pharaoh?" She was too shocked to speak much more. Her mind was whizzing, twisting, turning. "But…"

"I know it sounds crazy, Mai. I know you probably don't believe it—" His espresso was gone, sipped too many times just out of habit while he was explaining everything to her.

"It's too strange to be true." She said quietly, and suddenly everything made sense. "There are two many questions I've had that are now answered. Too many things I've heard, felt, seen…"

"I'm sorry for everything." He said, feeling his excuse lame and below any level of apology she deserved.

"But, I—"

"I must leave." He grabbed his coat from behind him and made a move to go, but Mai grasped his wrist and tugged him to turn around. "There's nothing for me to say. Nothing more I need to say. You should understand everything now." He took his arm from her and began to the door, the bell ching-a-linging just as it had when she entered.

He shrugged on his coat and checked the street quickly before crossing, his hands in his pockets, his face being splattered with the rain that fell from angry black skies.

He heard, just barely, the sound of a bell, and turned around to see Mai crossing the street after him, neglecting her coat or her purse.

She chased him, her pink cardigan instantly soaked with rain, and when she caught up with Yami she threw herself into his arms.

"Yami!" And his name felt so comfortingly from her lips, and it sent a passion up his spine as he let his arms hold her. All wringing wet, blonde hair dripping of her. "I love you, Yami." She said, snuggling into his embrace. But he shook his head sadly before pushing her away.

"No, you don't, Mai. You think you do, but you really don't. You love Yugi. You have for some time. Quite a long time, I will say."

"But, Yami—"

"He loves you, Mai. Even more than I do. I watched the tears stream down his face when he thought that you were lost to him. I've seen the way you look at him. Please, Mai…" He tilted her chin up to him. "Be true to me, and to him. But more than anything, be true to yourself."

Her tears mixed with the rain as they spilled down her face, and she knew he was right. But the greatest confirmation was turning to see Yugi standing, across the street, just as wet as they were.

His innocent face, his wide eyes filled with pain and hope, the heat in her chest was like a furnace that warmed her whole body, and the assurance of Yami's words were complete.

Never did she love anyone before like she loved Yugi in that moment. Yugi, not Yami. And certainly more than Derek Heartenmine.

She felt embarrassed for her declaration moments before, felt foolish for thinking she could love anyone more than Yugi…still he stood there, the same expression present, waiting for something, but what he waited for he didn't know. For someone to say something to him, for someone to explain, maybe—for any kind of sign, in the sincerest truth.

It came when Mai crossed the street and approached him, and even in the rain he knew she was crying. His adorable face scrunched just barely, his eyes wide and wary, he watched her in silence.

Her shoulders shook in little sobs, and without a thought he took her in his arms, which only made her cry more. Over her shoulder he stole a glance at Yami on the other side of the street, and the Pharaoh looked down before drifting away out of his sight.

Yugi let out a long sigh against Mai, fighting tears of his own.

* * *

Yami was slouched against the wall, his legs before him as he sat on the floor. The rain pelted at the window, a dreary background to his equally dreary thoughts. He had considered running away, but with devastation he realized he had nowhere to run.

He felt literally sick, a kind of motion sickness that made him barely want to breathe, let alone do anything else.

And so, several hours later, with the sun gone down and the world a dark hell, he heard the front door open slowly.

A wave of nausea hit him so hard in the stomach he felt he would retch there on the spot and his arms shook as he covered his mouth with his hands.

He waited for what seemed an eternity, his thoughts racing and spinning—would Yugi never come to see him? Would he just ignore his presence? He half hoped he would, but a little while longer he waited and then he heard footsteps upon the creaky stairs that could use a good tune-up. If only any of the gameshop inhabitants had time…or even knew how to do it.

The doorknob turned, and Yami cursed himself that he had let his form stay pitifully there, in the middle of the wall, right out in the open. Could he not have slumped into a corner, out of the bedroom's light?

It may have seemed silly, this mighty pharaoh cringing from a mere youth. But he shied not from fear, but from shame. From embarrassment. From utter humiliation and regret for the things which he had hidden. For the things he had done. How dare he? And how dare he hide it? Think for even a moment it would stay hidden?

Yami's eyes were cast to the floor, and he could only see Yugi's sneaker-clad feet as they stopped right inside the doorframe. But they remained still for only a moment before they made their way to the bed, and the door shut closed behind them.

The springs in the mattress creaked and squeaked as he sat down in silence, and Yami's eyes darted up to Yugi for the smallest split of a second before they returned to the wooden floor.

The young King of Games held a purple plastic plate with a miserable looking peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the middle, looking like a sad excuse for a meal in the midst of a purple sea.

He had sat down a clear glass of milk on the night stand, and the contents swished around before creating a flat surface, a residue of milky clearness in wavy lines where the milk had sloshed higher up.

Curse the silence! Yami hated it. Loathed it. And yet he feared desperately the moment when someone would speak. It wouldn't be him…he didn't know what to say.

Yugi was eating, his wide eyes contemplating what should be said, what needed to be discussed, and still the pharaoh looked only at the floor.

"Yami…" He looked up at Yugi, who had eaten his sandwich into the shape of a circle, saw the youth strive for the right words. He thought of Mai looking at Yugi. Imagined the adoration she had for the King of Games. He thought of how many times she had looked at him with that adoration…but she had thought him Yugi. Not a liar, a deceiver, a betrayer.

When had it all come to this?

"Why? Why!?" The sounds of a woman sobbing. "My pharaoh…I beg of you…" The sobbing that nearly brought tears to his own eyes. Her body bent over on the alabaster ground, her dark hair spilling about her shoulder to drag on the stone. Her beautiful face streaked with tears, the knowledge of what he had done burned into her memory. Her shaking body and her moaning burned into his own memory forever, for eternity.

The scene flashed before his eyes as he looked at Yugi, he wanted to scream, to rip that day out of his mind forever. But Yugi was about to speak, and he listened with an intensity he didn't think possible.

"Yami, I forgive you." He seemed wary about those words, as if he almost didn't dare to say it. As if he feared the reaction Yami would give him, as if he was unsure whether the pharaoh wanted forgiveness or felt he needed to be forgiven of anything.

A single tear dropped from the lids of the boy's eye, and it was reflected in the eye of the pharaoh.

"How can you?" Yami asked simply, in sincerity. "After everything I've done. I began it all to help you, and yet I betrayed you. I hid from you my actions, lied to you—"

"It doesn't matter. I don't want to discuss it anymore. It's forgotten." The pharaoh shook his head in disbelief. "I know Mai loves me very much, and I know you're sorry. That's all that matters. Dwelling on it will only be self-pity, which I don't feel."

"She never loved me." Yami assured him after Yugi's words sunk in, their honesty almost harsh in its dismissal of further apology. "It was you she loved the entire time, and only for the briefest moment when I first told her did she believe otherwise. Never fear that she will betray you, Yugi—she never has. It has all been my sin, my fault that all this has occurred. Please don't change anything with her, don't punish her as if she has had any part in this—" Yugi nodded, cutting him off.

Both fell into silence.

"You didn't love her." Yugi finally said, and Yami looked at him in an expression to question his statement. "You thought you did, but you didn't love her even as you know you don't now. You love something else, Yami. Someone else." Yugi turned the tables, voicing thoughts he had been thinking for quite a long time. "What is it that you have lost that eats away at you? I have seen the distant stares when you think of your past. I have caught glimpses of your memories enough to know you loved someone once. Very dearly, and needed her more then the air that you breathe."

No expression whatsoever crossed Yami's face, and Yugi sighed before continuing.

"There is nothing I can hide from you…" He continued. "And yet you hide everything from me." It was a hint at the unfairness of the situation, yet Yugi would never truly complain.

Yami began to sit up, a totally different air about him. Proud, arrogant, defensive…and yet he had been on the verge of tears just before. So repentant, apologetic, embarrassed.

"I have to go." He said brusquely, and Yugi jumped off his seat to follow him.

"Where are you going?" He asked desperately, following him out the door and down the hall.

"Does it matter?" He returned over his shoulder, and Yugi followed still, down the stairs and through the aisles of the shop. Yami stepped out into the rain without another word, and Yugi hung out of the door, watching him leave.

"What is it you hide, Yami!?" He called after him, but no reply came but the sound of the rain.