A/N: Here you have my annual Christmas story. This is the result of three days of writing and one day of actually working on this. My original story idea was to do a Yami/Kaiba fanfiction but after two failed attempts at it, I gave up. I was going to try again but on one of my breaks from writing, I wandered in a community, which was devoted to stories about Mai. A lot of them were Mai/Jonouchi or Mai/Kaiba and for a lack of a better word, they sucked. Half of them lacked proofreading or didn't use original names. I mean, I am not so picky to say that always use the original names. The Yu-gi-oh fan community cannot get the subtitled releases. But seriously, do some background work on your characters. Know their history and then warp it to fit it into your story. Feeling rather angry, I decided that hell; I was going to write a Jonouchi and Mai fanfiction for this year's story. This story had no prior planning on besides the running commentary in my head as I worked out this morning. I am proud to say that it turned out well, much like I imagined it to turn out.

The title "Lithium Flower" is the ending song to the anime Ghost in a Shell: Stand Alone Complex. I thought of the lyrics when I thought of Mai's character and they fit oddly well. Go check out the lyrics if you have the time. The title is also an allusion to the running symbolism. (I am not sure if that makes any sense or if I used the wrong words. I have spent the last couple of months in school, preparing for my six-hour English exam and also my SAT and ACT. I have found I am being a lot wordier and confusing myself a lot more lately.)

Onto the story…enjoy and please review

Lithium Flower

She walked out of my life on a rainy day, saying good-bye with a single wave of her hand from off in the distance. She disappeared without saying a single word to me, and when I ran to catch up with her, to say my proper good-bye, she was already gone, driving off into the nonexistent sunset to never be seen again.

The day she returned was hot enough to make the tar on the road bubble. It was a rare day in Central Japan; the weather never got this hot especially during the end of March when the cherry blossoms began to form on the trees.

Six years had passed and somehow I thought that she would have looked almost the same as the day she left. She had changed a lot. Her wavy blonde mane had been cut shorter, falling to her shoulders in straight layers and her clothing had become more mature but it could have only been so she could get into my work place without being thought of as a for-hire whore.

I had just gotten out of college, getting a degree in engineering and as it goes for all freshly freed college students, I needed to get a job to pay off the loans I took out. I got a desk job, working for a publishing firm that translated foreign novels into Japanese. It was my job to fill out all the tax forms and forms to acquire the books. I went into my office shortly after scouting out the best area in town for the coming cherry blossom viewing for my boss when I found her, sitting on my desk.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to do first to her; it was a toss-up between hugging her or slapping her for making me worry about whatever came of her. And as I stared at her in shock, she smiled and told me simply, " Hi."

I was tongue-tied. Nothing had changed between the years apart. It was hard to think around her because she was too perfect and I wasn't. I was afraid to speak because I knew I would embarrass myself. She seemed to know this and hopped off my desk. She stalked over to me with the slight hit of her heel to make her steps and stopped within inches of me.

It was the first time that it occurred to me that she was shorter then me, or maybe I had just grown. We were eye to eye now and she was wearing heels. She stroked my cheek softly if she was checking to make sure I was real, staring right into my eyes. It made it hard to breathe and think, and every survival instinct in me wanted to run and far away from her because I was scared. I was still intimidated by her confidence and her beauty. I was still attracted to her like I had been to no one else.

She hugged me, clutching me like I was the only thing holding her to life. I realized she had never hugged me before despite the years we spent in near-death situations. Anytime I think we actually touched each other or showed affection was when the other was unconscious or thought to be dying.

I hugged her back, burrowing my nose in her hair. It smelled like jasmine, which surprised me. It was such feminine scent and though she was defiantly the epitome of femininity, she didn't have the softness to her that my previous girlfriends had.

"Why did you leave?" I remember whispering into her ear.

"I was ashamed to face you after I tried to kill you." She responded back, and I could feel the wetness from her tears as they soaked into my shirt. I held her until she stopped crying and for the first time I realized that both of us had changed. We were different people then we were then.... and this was my second chance in life.

She ended up spending the night at my apartment. I was a complete gentleman; we didn't do anything remotely sexual. Somehow, despite how much I was wanting to, it didn't feel right. She had needed a place to stay for the few days she would be spending time in Japan. She told me she could afford a hotel without any problems but that it would be nice if she could stay with someone she was close to. The actual words she used were "with a friend" but seeing that she never had friends, I substituted the words.

She belonged in my apartment. That was all I could say. She was like the painting that you have always looked for to fill that empty space on your wall and when you find it, you wonder how you lived without it. I offered her the couch but she politely refused and then told me I was not to sleep on the couch either. She told me we were both adults; she was positive that we could sleep in the same bed without any repercussions.

Maybe for her, she had no problems with it. After all, the words cold and strong are some of the first words that come to mind when people think of her. But I was up the entire night, watching her sleep. I was nervous to fall asleep and her hearing me snore and drool in my sleep. It was not the image I wanted to project to her.

I didn't think she would sleep in front of me, quite truthfully. I thought she wouldn't sleep for the same reason I was trying to stay up. She didn't want to seem imperfect. But when I voiced my surprise at seeing her fall asleep before me, she only chuckled.

" I trust you," was what she said to me before snuggling deeper into the blankets on the bed. Around an hour in to her sleeping, she threw the covers off her, and I was given full ability to allow my eyes to roam.

She had borrowed a t-shirt of mine that was too small and a pair of boxers that had written "Inu" all over it. They looked good on her; bunched up around her thighs and the shirt had ridden up to just above her belly button from all the tossing and turning she did. No matter how perverted fantasies were being entertained by her sleeping in my bed in such a vulnerable state, I couldn't concentrate on her body. My eyes were drawn to her face, completely free of make-up. She looked even more doll-like without make-up if it was possible. Dolls have innocence to them. She never had that naivety when awake, covering up any flaw and enhancing her features with various colors and tools.

I wanted to touch. I wanted to run my hand down her fragile cheekbone and trace the shell of her ear. But she trusted me not to take advantage of her. I am a man of my word. Soon enough I would get to do those things and more.

My thoughts were later interrupted by a whimper as I started to fall asleep and I turned over to look at her sleepily. She was shaking from head to toe, whimpering, clutching her fists, mouth open in a silent scream.

I had felt so bad for her and I didn't think. I pulled her to me and held her, stroking her hair until she woke, trying to provide her with the only comfort I knew to give. While she was still trapped in her nightmare, she hit me, fighting against me to get herself free. It hurt even though I knew it was not me who she was fighting against. Finally, her fingernails stopped digging into my shoulder and she collapsed into exhaustion, leaning against for support.

I knew she was partly awake now but I decided not to press her for details, waiting for her to tell me. And as I traced lazy circles into the small of her back, she whispered only one word. " Malik." That was all I needed to know and I lay her back down on the bed. When I went to move apart from her, holding to the promise I had made to her earlier, she grabbed my arm. That was the only encouragement I needed and I fell asleep, pressed against her backside.

When the blossoms began to form on the cherry trees and the weather had returned to its respectable 14 degree Celsius, she and I took walks around the neighborhood while on my lunch break, enjoying each other other's company. After that night, she was much more open with her affection towards me. Of course, we haven't kissed yet and I am not pushing for it. Sometimes the wait makes it better and I waited almost eight years. I could wait a few more days.

We would take a walk through one of the nearby parks, holding hands, just lazily strolling around. We would then find a food stand and eat lunch together. She would always order something with meat and not eat any of bread. When I asked her, she told me she was on a diet that some Americans created called Atkins. When we were together, we talked a lot about her.

In all my previous relationships, it drove me insane to have girls who all they talked about was themselves. Everything was about them and their needs. This turned out to be a reason why I broke up with a lot of them. Somehow I didn't mind with her. There was so much I didn't know about her though I had known her for a long time and it wasn't boring stuff like what she did with her friends or how annoying someone was. She would talk about how and where she grew up and how it made it who she was. She told me her fears and dreams and why she did the things she had done back then in our dueling days. In a way, talking about it was a way to heal the guilt she felt about leaving me and making sense of things. She didn't realize that the minute I walked into my office that day that I had forgiven her.

It made me understand her a lot better. In my eyes, it made her much more beautiful to see her admit to her insecurities and her faults. I fell in love with her for the third time in my life, the first being the day I met her on the ship to Duelist Kingdom and the second when she appeared in my life again.

She told me she liked hearing me talk. It helped her to relax and fall asleep, knowing there was someone to watch over her and keep her safe. She didn't care what I talked about; she told me I could probably speak gibberish and she would still hold onto every word. It was the first time anyone ever liked my voice. I have spent a lot of my life, being told to shut up and to find out that someone actually appreciates what I have to say or my opinion means a lot.

After we would reach the end of the park, we would walk back to my workplace hand in hand. She would hug me before we parted ways, and it wasn't until I get inside would I realize that all the younger co-workers like myself watched our daily exchange.

They went on how beautiful she was or how big her breasts were, and how lucky I was. They wanted to know about our sex life and if I was willing to share. I looked at them and realized how asinine they were and to think I was just like them only a few weeks ago, discarding girls just as often as I throw away my garbage. Everything that they thought of her was so superficial and all came down to sex. I couldn't tell them that our relationship was nothing like that. Maybe someday it would be that way but now, it was just two people enjoying each other's company. It wasn't about how much she could offer me but the worth she put on my life and my existence. They couldn't get past her porn-star looks to see the child that grew up too fast to enter into an adult world to survive.

It was at the company picnic that we first kissed. It wasn't anything romantic, much to my disappointment. I think she was angry as well that it had been on a dare. The guys at the picnic were ragging on me that I brought her but yet we weren't all over each or had snuck off to fuck each other under the cherry trees. My damn pride got in the way and so I violated the sacred rule that had been established between us, that only she got to initiate what we did, and kissed her. She was surprised and responded but I knew her too well. There was passion and it was fake. That damn kiss, I thought had destroyed everything.

It hadn't though. When the streetlamps began to come on in the park and people trickled out of the park, she grabbed me by my wrist and led me to the gazebo that overlooked the pond. It was a full moon and the water was lit up, shining out the pathway to heaven. There was a selection of cherry trees that surrounded the pond but because the blossoms were already beginning to fall, wilting away.

She dragged me to right under the falling blossoms, backing me against the tree. She smiled at me before claiming my lips.

It must have been almost a half hour that we stood there, pressed together, just kissing. It wasn't necessarily angels singing in my head or one of the best moments in my life that I longed to last forever. It was just nice…satisfying. It wasn't raw passion and I didn't see stars but I imagine it to be the feeling a husband would have for his wife of ten or something years. It's that safety that you feel as your mind starts spinning out of control and the contentment of that time and moment.

When we parted, she just looked at me and smiled genuinely. It was a beautiful sight and she then brushed out with her hand, the cherry blossoms that had gotten tangled in my hair.

The day she collapsed in the middle of the train station as she and I waited for the bullet train was the same day that the rain of cherry blossoms started, marking the final countdown to their demise. She was suddenly standing next to me and then; she was lying in a heap on the ground. I didn't know what to do. I was so confused and if it had not been for the old lady standing next to us, I don't know if I could have gotten her to the hospital in time.

I had watched her from outside her room, peering through the glass. She looked so lifeless and frail lying there, skin washed up in the pale florescent lighting. The look didn't belong to her.

For two nights, I camped out in the waiting area, waiting for her to wake up. It was on the second day that I was told the news. She had a tumor in her brain. It had been there for quite awhile and had had treatment done on it. They asked me if I had known anything about it and I told them no; she hadn't mentioned anything of that sort by me.

As soon as they left, my knees buckled and I cried. I don't know how long I did, the emotions running through me. I was struck with the unfairness of it all, that we finally had found each other and soon she would die. I begged to the gods for a miracle that she wouldn't die and if that was not possible, allow her to wake up so I could talk to her one last time. I wanted to know why she didn't tell me and wanted to tell her that I loved her. I never had gotten the opportunity to…that was all she had needed in her life, love.

That 3rd morning, I was allowed to visit her. She had awoken and had asked for me. I went in there, apprehensive, unsure of what I would find but I knew I needed and wanted to see her.

They had moved her to a different room. It was a single and had no outside link to the hallway except for a wooden door. Opening the door, all I could see was bright natural light seeping through the huge window that took almost all of the left wall. Her blonde hair glowed in it and her eyes were so pale in that light. It was an image I wish now that I had a photo of though it would not be right to have it done while she was so ill.

"They are advertising it on the news. All the cherry blossoms have fallen in town except for one that was on the tree where we first kissed," I remember her telling me as I walked in, sitting on the side of her bed. I took her hands and held them. Her fingers were only about half the length of my own and I could have crushed her fingers without trying, they being so delicate.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked her, letting go of her hand so I could move the bangs that were stuck to her forehead in sweat out of her eyes.

"Would you have treated me differently if you knew our time was limited and not forever?" she whispered.

"Of course not." I lied to her, I would have and she looked up at me with those soft eyes, knowing that I had lied. I sighed and kissed her bare forehead. "When'd you find out?"

"Last year. Tried everything but surgery and it didn't work. I was told to put my affairs in order and accomplish everything in my life that I wanted to do before I died."

Her words were so nonchalant and it made me wonder if it was all from a script in her mind that she had said to millions of people.

"Is that why you came here?" I asked her.

"Yeah. That's why I didn't answer your question when you asked."

"What did you hope to accomplish before you died here in Japan?"

" I wanted to thank you for always believing in me when no one else did."

"Was I falling in love with you a part of your plan?" I think she was hurt by my question from the hurt look that crossed her face.

"No," she replied, looking me right in the eye to prove her sincerity. " It was an added benefit."

I hugged her at that point, our positions being reversed from what they had been before we fell in love. I didn't want to let her go and it was I who cried on her shoulder, clutching her to me. I must have hurt her but she didn't complain. There were bruises where my fingertips had pressed into her skin when they did her autopsy the next day, the day that the last cherry blossom of the season fell to earthward, dying.

A/N: Does that not put you into the Christmas sprit: death and destruction and despair? Well, I don't have much Christmas sprit and I can't write happy stores. Just read my other stories posted…someone are always dying or depressed. I was planning to put another paragraph in with Jonouchi staring at the grave, doing it in present tense, talking about Mai and actually naming her for once but somehow the last sentence was too perfect to just wreck it with meaningless words. It wasn't even planned. That is one of the things I love about writing. You get struck by your own genius sometimes.

Review!! And I hope you had a nice Christmas.

Shadowfire