Sakakku

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Notes: This chapter there will be mindlink speech between Yugi and Yami

/Crazy pharaoh…/ = Yugi to Yami

Is that an insult?// = Yami to Yugi

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Chapter 3

xXx

"We'll have to wear the same cloaks as before," Yugi said, taking a few quick steps to keep up with Yami's longer strides. "The same ones we wore when we first snuck out to the desert, right? To keep from being noticed? I mean, we're kind of hard to miss."

Yami smiled a bit, turning to face him. He noticed Yugi struggling to keep up with his quicker pace and slowed down a little. Yugi grasped his hand again, beaming up at him. Yami quickly turned his head away; Yugi was quite fond of holding hands, but the Pharaoh always felt strange; it was a tradition unfamiliar to him. "Yes," he spoke, gazing across the barren desert, "we'll hide under the cloaks. Good thing you decided to bring a spare."

"I never thought we'd have separate bodies," Yugi said breathlessly, squeezing Yami's hand. "It felt so strange at first! But I'm glad we did! And I'm glad we kept the mindlink." He gave Yami a look full of pure adoration, and the Pharaoh closed his eyes briefly, thinking about how childlike Yugi was. He renewed the vow he said every day: He would protect Yugi to the death.

What he saw as they reached the top of the sand dune gave him hope. "Look, Yugi!" he said, dropping the boy's hand and pointing. "There's a village over there!"

"It was this close?" Yugi exclaimed. "We were only walking a couple hours! Good thing no one from the village ever knew how close the oasis was; they might have gone there for a water supply and found us!"

"We should probably put the cloaks on now," Yami said reluctantly, looking up at the burning sun. "It'll be hot, but we can't risk anyone seeing us."

"Okay!" Yugi said cheerfully, setting down the cloth bag. It contained all their possessions: the few changes of clothes Yugi had brought, the two cloaks, his dueling deck, and a few water canteens. It was light, and Yugi had insisted on taking turns carrying it.

They pulled on their cloaks, and Yami tucked the hood over his head well, making sure his face was in shadow. Yugi, however, kept it back. He knelt down, staring at the deck.

"Ah," Yami said softly, seeing Yugi's troubled face. "I am unsure what to do with it as well. I have a feeling, however, that traditional dueling has been outlawed. If the deck is to help us, it will be by the strength of the individual monsters, and the Shadow Realm Summonings."

"You better take it," Yugi declared, handing it to Yami. "I think you'll need it. You're the one they're after, remember?"

"Yugi!" Yami protested. "I don't want to leave you unprotected."

"I have you, Yami," Yugi said, smiling up at his darker half. "I know you'll always protect me!"

The Pharaoh's breath caught in his throat. "I will always try, Yugi," he said quietly. "But just in case…" he leafed through the deck quickly. "Here. Take Joey's card." He held out the Red Eyes Black Dragon.

"Oh…" Yugi murmured, taking it. "Okay. Maybe that's a good idea…" He sighed and tucked it carefully in his pocket as Yami slid his deck in its usual place. "I wonder where Joey is?"

Yami nodded toward the village as Yugi finally pulled the hood over his hair. "I suppose we'll find out there, if there's any news at all."

xXx

The village was quiet, the people docile. Yami and Yugi glanced around nervously as the dull faces as they made their way down what passed for a street. "I don't like it here," Yugi whispered, reaching up to grab Yami's hand tightly again. This time, the Pharaoh didn't feel uncomfortable; he clung to his hikari's small hand as well.

"We need to find someone," he whispered back, glancing around. "Anyone."

"What have we here?" a voice called. Yugi let out a small squeak and jumped, while Yami spun swiftly around. A toothless old woman was sitting on a small, dirty porch in front of her house, giving them a sad, soft look. "Are you two brothers?" she asked, looking from face to face, causing Yugi to smile faintly. "What made you decide to come to this here village?"

"It… was… close?" Yami offered, trying to figure out how to cover his tracks well. It wasn't something he was particularly good at; he'd never put much stock in lying.

To his surprise, the old woman didn't seem to think his response was strange. She blew out a breath and nodded her head: "There don't seem to be much reason for anything nowadays. Might as well be here, eh? Just the same as everywhere else."

Yugi's fingers abruptly fell slack and dropped from Yami's grasp. The boy hunched over as if physically hit. Yami put an arm around him, feeling almost the same way. Everywhere else? He'd known it in his head before, but he was just now understanding in his heart.

"Still," the woman continued, smiling softly at the way Yami was bracing Yugi, "we've got some things to be thankful for."

"Like what?" Yugi spoke up bitterly for the first time.

No… the bitterness, the anger in Yugi's voice! It was too much to take. Don't lose your hope, hikari. It is all we have left

Yugi turned slightly to look at him; the only thing showing under his dark hood was a pair of large, glittering, violet eyes. The woman went on: "Well, we're free at least." She laughed sadly a moment. "I'd rather be out here than in Marik and Bakura's prison, I guess."

Yugi was silent. Yami asked tentatively, "there are people in their prison?"

"You mean, people they haven't sent to the Shadow Realm yet?" the woman asked, laughing without humor. "There are a few I know of. Wheeler, Redback, Fuller, Gardner, Yashine, and Hutchinson," she rattled off.

Most of the names weren't familiar, but Yugi let out faint whimpers at two of them. Wheeler and Gardner. Joey and Téa. Hikari?

/I don't feel well/

Hold on, hikari

"Good afternoon," Yami said, bowing slightly to the old woman. "We must be going. Thank you for the conversation." He put an arm around Yugi's shoulders and gently urged the boy to move onwards.

"A good day to you," the woman called after them.

/There won't be any good days ever again/

Don't say that, Yugi. Don't give in to the despair; don't give in to the bitterness. We have to stick together and trust to hope. And to each other

xXx

Tristan woke up late. It seemed that he woke up late every day, that all he did was sleep. He enjoyed that best of all, because sleep was when the dreams came. The dreams of Yugi, and Yami… not one dead person anymore, but two live friends. The dreams of their life in the desert… and the dreams of the day they would return.

But that was all they were: dreams. He wandered slowly out of bed, debating whether he should bathe in the crude waterhole out back, but decided he should wait. No doubt he'd be even more bored later on.

"Up so early?" Duke's sarcastic voice inquired. The black-haired dice duelist was sitting at the kitchen table, pouring over a miniature dice board. He had been allowed this hobby, at least.

Tristan merely grunted, heading over to the cupboard and pulling out a loaf of bread. He moodily sat down with it, across from Duke, and started eating despondently.

"That's all you ever do lately," Duke grumbled, refusing to look at him. "Sleep and eat. Half the time you don't bother to put a shirt on."

Tristan glanced down at his bare chest. "So?"

"You're horrible company!" Duke exclaimed, shoving a die violently away from him. It skidded across the table and landed on the floor. Both boys glanced at it, but neither made a move to pick it up. "And I have to live with you," Duke continued in a low voice.

"Excuse me?" Tristan said, raising his eyebrow. "Are you saying you actually want to have a civilized conversation with me? You weren't exactly Prince Charming to me when we first moved in here." He knew he should be grateful, but somehow he couldn't stop the biting words. Duke had qualified as a privileged duelist, one of the elite. He was allowed to live in nicer conditions than most of the world, and was even allowed to keep his dueling deck. It was also because of his higher status that he was allowed to work on Dungeon Dice Monsters.

Tristan, on the other hand, would have been cast in the same slums as the rest of the world, had Duke not come to his rescue. He'd taken Tristan to live with him, although the two had spent the first full week arguing. (Serenity, naturally, had crept into the conversation at several points)

After that, Tristan had stopped caring. All his friends were gone; what was there to live for? He ignored Duke, ignored responsibility, forgot about everything but what he needed to do to stay alive. He lived in a perpetual state of depression, on the verge of nonexistence.

And it seemed that Duke was getting tired of it. "You have to snap out of it, Tristan," he hissed under his breath. "Maybe I would like to have a civilized conversation with you every once in a while. Maybe I'm getting tired of living with someone who might as well be dead. Maybe I don't like seeing you as practically a walking zombie!"

Tristan lifted his head to give Duke a piercing glare. He met determined emerald eyes, and the boys stared at each other a few long moments.

Tristan was the first to break the stare. "Look…" he mumbled. "I just don't know. What is there to live for, anyway?"

Duke was out of his seat in a flash. "Don't say that!" he demanded. Tristan lifted startled eyes, but quickly lowered them. Duke stood above him, breathing heavily, then abruptly slammed his fist down on the table and stalked out of the room.

Tristan watched him go; he could tell by his footsteps that Duke was headed to his bedroom. He heard the door slam, and after a few moments bent down and picked up the forgotten die. He placed it gently on the board and trudged outside. He might as well bathe now.

xXx

Mai Valentine, crème of the crop, elite duelist. Certainly she would have been classified as privileged duelist, allowed to retain her deck, allowed to live in an upper-class home. But then where would Serenity have gone? For the younger sister of Joey Wheeler was a constant target, and not even the weight of Mai's word could have saved her.

So Mai had given up her identity, and with it her title and rights. She and Serenity lived together, in a small, dirty home in a large, dirty village. They had lost contact with all of their friends; life had become a daily hell, a struggle to survive.

Serenity was clutching the bag of groceries- the small amount of fruit they'd managed to buy. It was a luxury for them. She was careful not to drop it as Mai steered her through the streets, one hand on her shoulder.

For Serenity still could not see. The bandages had never been removed from her face. They were a symbolic sign of mourning for the lost world, for her lost brother. But more than that, it was her secret, one that Mai had suggested and encouraged. It was a tool to ensure that her enemies would always underestimate her. And that might one day prove useful.

As for Mai…

The two of them were headed for their modest house. Mai continued to steer Serenity with one hand, and with the other nervously tugged on the long arm of her pink blouse.

Yes, she still had more than one trick up her sleeve.