Disclaimer – Nope, don't own them. Probably never will, unless I suddenly gain millions of dollars.
Author's Notes – Another day, another chapter. Enjoy!
Chapter 5 – On the Fifth Day of Christmas – Five Thousand Years
Bakura growled, staring up at the ceiling to his bedroom as his mind replayed Yami's words over and over again in his mind. He'd been right about the sleeplessness . . . the Pharaoh's actions and words had left him to think, unable to sleep as his mind puzzled over them.
Something had changed, he simply couldn't figure out exactly what. At first, Yami's intentions had seemed perfectly clear . . . but then he'd seen something and whatever it had been, he'd suddenly changed his intentions completely.
And then there was his light, who had seen the exchange as well. Ryou'd been smart enough not to ask about it . . . probably for the best, because he wouldn't have known what to tell the youth anyway.
What had Yami meant by what he wanted? What DID he want? Sighing, he tucked his hands under his head, crossing his legs at the ankles as he lounged on his bed, replaying the entire incident and his strange reactions to it in his head. He hated introspection . . . it always brought up too many questions without answers. But here he was, stuck doing that very thing, and of course it was all the Pharaoh's fault.
What did he want from Yami? What was it about the Pharaoh that was throwing him off like this? Yes, he was attractive and desirable . . . but physical lust just didn't seem to be the only problem anymore. Admittedly, it was the one he was most familiar with, but that reason alone didn't begin to cover everything that was going on at the moment.
This all started when he got stuck up in that tree . . . maybe his illness had affected his mind somehow? Of course, that little misadventure had resulted in the first time he and Yami had EVER touched each other . . . could that have had something to do with it? Had that simple touch somehow completely undone every bit of hatred he'd harbored for the man?
"Ridiculous," he grumbled, turning over onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow. One little accidental touch didn't have the power to do this . . . did it? Growling, he shoved his head under his pillow, and attempted to use the overstuffed item to drown out the sound of his own whirling thoughts.
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"Yami?" Yugi called up the stairs, wondering where his dark was. It wasn't like Yami to sleep so late, even on a Saturday. They hadn't been up late last night . . . in fact, Yami had gone to bed the minute they'd gotten home. So why hadn't his other emerged from his room yet?
He heard footsteps, and smiled slightly as his dark appeared at the top of the stairs, before the amethyst eyes filled with concern. Yami looked like he'd been through hell . . . the crimson eyes were marred by deep shadows under them. If he'd had to guess at their cause, he would have said that Yami hadn't gotten much in the way of sleep last night.
"Yes, aibou?" the tenor voice called down hoarsely, breaking into his thoughts.
"Yami, are you okay?" he asked, advancing up the stairs until he stood on the step just below his dark. "You look like death warmed over." Yami smiled slightly at that comment, shaking his head slowly.
"I'm fine, Yugi," he replied quietly. "Merely tired." Yugi wasn't willing to let it rest at that, however.
"Something kept you up all night," he said, taking the final step so that he could stand on equal ground with the former Pharaoh. "You want to talk about it?" He saw the crimson eyes waver, and decided that maybe pressing the issue now would be the best time to get his dark to talk. "It's about you and Bakura, isn't it? Whatever happened between the two of you underneath that mistletoe last night is bothering you."
He was relieved when Yami sighed and sank down to sit on the step, eyes staring down the narrow stairway as he thought. He sat down beside the taller man quietly, silently waiting for his dark to begin speaking, and wondering exactly what was on his best friend's mind.
"Five thousand years . . ." he murmured finally. "Bakura and I have known each other for five thousand years . . . and we've hated each other the entire time. We've been enemies for that long, aibou. Yet now . . . I find I can no longer hate him." He shifted uneasily before turning to look into the concerned amethyst eyes. "I think . . . perhaps that I am in love with our Tomb Robber," he whispered. He waited for Yugi's stunned denial, and was surprised when the smaller boy chuckled and smiled.
"We thought so," he said, nodding sagely. "But if that's the case, then what is the problem? Worried that he doesn't return the sentiment?"
"I know he doesn't, aibou," Yami murmured after a moment, still stunned at his lighter self's easy acceptance of the situation. "How could he? You know as well as I do that Bakura isn't capable of the softer emotions." The vulnerability he'd seen in the Tomb Robber's eyes the night before rose to the surface of his thoughts, but he shoved it aside. He'd merely caught the thief by surprise . . . he wouldn't allow himself to read further into it than that.
"Well, he's better with Ryou," Yugi pointed out. "Maybe he's changed, Yami." Yami sighed, shaking his head sadly.
"Toward me? I highly doubt it, young one. He is merely playing one of his games . . . of that I am sure. It is one that I have no wish to play, but that is how Bakura is." He stood stiffly, crimson eyes dark, before looking down at Yugi calmly. "I can hope this is no more than a passing fancy, Yugi," he whispered. "Otherwise . . . I have lost my heart to someone who does not want it." Turning, he made his way back to his bedroom, leaving Yugi to stare after him sadly.
"Oh Yami . . ." he said quietly, his heart breaking for his dark. There had to be something he could do . . . but what that might be, he didn't know.
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Ryou left the house quietly, glad to be getting away from his moody dark for at least a small amount of time. The fact that Bakura was hitting the liquor cabinet did not sit well with him. When his yami was drunk, he didn't get like normal people . . . he became dangerous, far more dangerous than he usually was. He didn't know what it was about alcohol that made Bakura prone to violence, but whenever his dark got like this, he felt it prudent to leave. Like now.
But where could he go? It was a Saturday . . . school was on vacation, and he really didn't want to head for Kaiba Land. Nor did he really want to be alone right now. An idea popped into his head, and he smiled before heading for the Turtle Game Shop, sure that he would find Yugi behind the counter.
He was relieved to discover he'd been right when he stepped through the glass door to find the diminutive duelist seated on a stool behind the counter.
"Ryou!" Yugi called out, waving to him as he rang up a customer's purchase. "What are you doing here?" The white haired boy smiled and shook his head, going to lean against the counter.
"Bakura's drinking," he murmured. He held up his hand as Yugi went to speak. "I'm fine, Yugi. He didn't do anything to me. He's pretty much locked himself into his room. I don't know what's wrong with him . . . whatever it is, it's serious."
"Yami's pretty much the same way," Yugi replied quietly, causing the chocolate eyes to meet his in shock. "He's been in his room all morning . . . I couldn't even get him to come down for breakfast." He paused before continuing. As much as he respected Yami's privacy, this did have to do with Ryou's yami, which meant Ryou was just as involved as he was. "Ryou . . . Yami's in love with Bakura."
Ryou choked slightly, startled at the sudden announcement before staring at Yugi in shock. The Pharaoh was actually in love with the Tomb Robber? Yes, they'd suspected it, but to hear it confirmed so bluntly was astonishing.
"Are you . . . are you sure?" he asked quietly. Yugi nodded slightly, the amethyst eyes serious.
"He told me, Ryou," Yugi said. "But . . . he's hoping that it'll pass. He doesn't think Bakura could possibly return the feelings." He looked at Ryou steadily. "What do you think? Could your yami . . . be in love with mine?" Ryou looked perplexed, settling back against the glass counter as he thought this strange turn of events out. It would make some sense, with the way Bakura was acting right now. Hell, it had taken the former thief forever to simply come out and admit that he actually LIKED his hikari, at least a little. It would be tearing him apart to try and discover what was going on between him and the Pharaoh . . . especially when he was still hell bent on the belief that he hated the man.
This was definitely an interesting development. An idea came to mind, but he wasn't sure how safe it was. With Bakura getting drunk, he was bound to be more talkative . . . if they sent Yami over there on some pretext, would the thief spill the beans? It was an idea that had more than just a little merit, but there was also danger there. Bakura became more prone to violence when he was drunk, as if he wasn't prone to it enough as it was. If he was still confused about his feelings on Yami, would he attack the former Pharaoh?
"I don't know, Yugi," Ryou said finally. "If Bakura were any other person, I'd say it was obvious that he was in love with Yami . . . but this is a five thousand year old thief we're talking about. Yami's been his mortal enemy for that entire length of time. For him to go from hating him that passionately to loving him just seems like quite a jump." He shrugged slightly, shaking his head until his white bangs fell in front of his eyes. "It seems a bit far fetched when you look at it that way, but it's still the only thing I can think of that would have my dark so off-balance right now."
Unbeknownst to either boy, a certain former Pharaoh was lingering in the doorway behind the curtain that separated the shop from the rest of the house. He stepped away as Ryou fell silent, returning slowly to his room, deep in thought. That Yugi had told Ryou about his confession did not bother him . . . he trusted the white haired hikari almost as much as he trusted Yugi.
Ryou had a point that he wasn't happy with admitting the truth of. It was quite a jump for them to have gone from hating each other to loving each other after five thousand years. For him, it was merely a slight jump . . . he'd always been the more passionate individual. But for Bakura, it would be a flying leap into a bottomless pit. Was he being a fool to hope that someday the Tomb Robber might come to him?
Perhaps he should take the first step after all . . .
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Bakura poured himself another shot of vanilla vodka and downed it, enjoying the false warmth it gave him as he stared absently at the far wall of his bedroom. When one couldn't make something work out sober, drinking always seemed to untie the mental knots. And he had a lot of them right now, although they were slowly loosening to the point where he could think again.
He knew Ryou had fled the house. In a way, he was glad . . . without the boy there to disturb him, maybe he had a chance of straightening himself out.
His thoughts returned to the Pharaoh, and he smiled slightly as he pictured the man easily in his head. He was such a self-confident bastard, and beautiful too. He was always a challenge, and never boring to play with, even after five thousand years. Admittedly, winning against him was a hopeless proposition, but that just made it all the more interesting to try.
There were, of course, the frequent trips to the Shadow Realm he'd undergone due to the Pharaoh. Easy as it was to get out of there for him, they had still been annoying. Yet he couldn't even summon enough hatred for those against the man. Not that he was really trying . . . for the moment, he'd given up trying to get himself back to the way he had been. Pale fingers drummed absently on one jean clad thigh as he tilted his head back, raising his gaze to the ceiling.
So, what exactly was it that he felt towards the Pharaoh now? What was it about Yami that had him thinking this deeply? Was it his insistence on being true to one's self that had caused this discomforting introspection? Or was it something more, some deeply hidden desire to be better than he was for that asshole?
A knock on the front door upstairs brought him out of his thoughts with a growl, and he glared in the general direction of the annoyance as it came again. Who the hell could that be? If it was one of the twits Ryou insisted on hanging out with, there was going to be bloodshed. He didn't feel like dealing with their sappy bullshit today at all.
Stalking up the stairs, he made his way to the front door, snarling when the knock came again. After three such unanswered summons, they should have gotten the hint! Red-brown eyes narrowed angrily as he reached for the door knob, throwing it open in order to deliver a scathing comment that would send them packing . . . and froze in stunned disbelief when he met crimson eyes in an altogether too familiar face, one that had been haunting his thoughts far too often of late.
"Bakura," Yami murmured, bowing his head slightly to hide the smile at the thief's flabbergasted features. "May I come in?" Bakura nodded dumbly, stepping back to allow the Pharaoh to pass and trying to resist the urge to reach out and feel if he was really there. What in the nine hells would have brought the Pharaoh here now, of all times?
He followed the lithe, black leather-clad figure into the living room, watching as Yami shed the black leather jacket to reveal the form-fitting, buckled black leather shirt he was so fond of wearing. It was almost enough to make one drool . . . if one was inclined to such things. Bakura was not usually, but at the moment he had the urge to do so anyway.
He froze beside the door when Yami turned to face him, a slight smile flickering across the aquiline features before the crimson eyes grew serious.
"You're proving to be even more trouble to me now than you ever were in the past, you know," he murmured, stalking slowly across the beige carpet. Bakura was hard pressed to keep his eyes on Yami's . . . the sway in those hips as the Pharaoh advanced on him had rather evil thoughts flickering through his head at the moment. Those thoughts slithered to an abrupt halt when Yami stepped into him, pressing his leather clad form against his already over sensitized body until his back came up against the wall, effectively trapping him between the hard wood surface and the lean musculature hidden under the black leather. "My thoughts seem to be centering more and more around you since that day in the park, and I grow tired of it." He leaned closer, his breath whispering across the slightly parted lips as Bakura panted, his body growing hard at the nearness of its desire. "What have you done to me?" he whispered.
"I could ask the same of you," Bakura snarled, but his voice lacked the conviction it needed, especially when he shivered as Yami moved a knee in between his legs, the leather clad upper thigh caressing the growing bulge in the front of his jeans. He jerked slightly when that same thigh moved, brushing the rough fabric over his erection even harder as Yami braced a hand on either side of his head. "What are you doing?" he whispered, almost afraid to ask and hoping the answer was what he was thinking it would be.
"Ending our torment," Yami murmured, just before he took the pale lips in a hungry kiss. Bakura moaned, opening his mouth to the wet invasion helplessly, the almost empty bottle of vodka falling from numb fingers as Yami tasted him.
Yami hummed in approval as he felt the thief's silent acquiescence, running his tongue over Bakura's bottom lip gently before delving deeper into the warm cavern of his mouth to sample his taste again. He murmured his approval when pale fingers entwined into his hair, pulling his closer as the thief began to participate in the kiss, dueling for dominance playfully as Yami pressed into him, wanting to feel every inch of his former enemy's body against his own.
Leaving the parted, bruised lips, he brushed feather light kisses and gentle nips down the side of one jaw, pausing to suckle at the pulse beating wildly at the base of the pale throat before nipping at one collar bone as his fingers began to undue the buttons of the white silk shirt the thief was wearing. He'd lost track of why he had really come over here . . . simply talking with the thief wasn't going to be enough. He trailed kisses over the exposed skin as he continued downwards, adroitly undoing the buttons as he went and following with soft lips and warm licks to the delectable flesh.
Bakura growled slightly when Yami stopped at the edge of his jeans and began to work his way back up, slight tremors running through him as golden fingers ghosted over his flesh with just enough weight behind them to make him burn for more. Whatever Yami was doing, it was driving him nuts, and going far too slowly for his tastes. Reaching downwards, he wrapped his fingers around one buckle and tugged abruptly, bringing the former spirit back up to face him.
"Stop . . . toying . . . with me," he snarled, pulling that leather clad frame into him and grinding himself into it. He smiled in satisfaction as Yami moaned, the tri-colored head falling backwards and giving Bakura the perfect expanse of his golden skinned neck upon which to feast. The thief wasted no time in taking that offered flesh, ravaging it with lips and teeth as the Pharaoh bucked against him, bringing their manhood's into abrupt, delightful contact.
Growling, Bakura forced the lithe figure backwards until they ended up sprawled upon the couch, hands wandering everywhere as they divested each other of their shirts, both growing tired of the teasing. Afterwards, Bakura sat back for a moment to admire the golden god beneath him before leaning down to take one dusky nipple between his teeth, teasing it to hardness quickly before moving to do the same to the other.
Yami moaned, unable to force his body into stillness as the thief teased him. He gasped, crimson eyes shooting open wide as one pale hand cupped him, rubbing him teasingly as the white-haired head drifted with painful slowness down his exposed torso, stopping to torment and tease various areas with nips and licks and kisses.
"Bakura . . ." he moaned, clenching his hands into fists as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. The thief chuckled against his flesh, sending a violent shiver through his muscles as the red-brown eyes rose to gaze into slowly hazing crimson, the depths swirling with hunger.
"Give in, Pharaoh," the pale man whispered, moving upwards to lick at the parted lips teasingly as Yami panted beneath him. "This situation is now officially out of your control." Thoughts of what he was doing and who it was with had long ago been buried beneath the driving need to claim the Pharaoh as his own, and he was no longer concerned with exactly why he needed this man. So much for five thousand years of hatred . . . that particular emotion was nowhere to be found as he gazed down at his soon to be lover.
"If you don't get a move on, you're not going to be in control either," Yami growled, yanking him downward and taking possession of his lips once again. They battled for dominance of the kiss, bodies pressing against each other hungrily, the heated friction almost too much to take.
Yami moaned into the invasion, arching upward in a desperate attempt to get closer to the pale haired fiend. His entire body felt like it was on fire and Bakura was only adding more fuel to the consuming flames. Whatever this was, it certainly wasn't simple lust . . . if that had been the case, he would have felt just about heavenly right about now, but there was an added facet to the whole mess that made him want more than just the physical intimacy. He wanted Bakura's heart . . . and for once, he didn't want it on a platter.
'Ra help me,' he thought absently, crimson eyes staring up at the ceiling in delicious agony as he felt pale fingers undo the buckle to one of his belts. 'I really have fallen in love with him.'
The sudden opening of the front door brought a screeching halt to anything that could have happened between them at that moment.
"Bakura?" Ryou called. "Are you still here? You're not drunk yet, are you?" Grumbling under his breath, the thief backed off of Yami slowly, shrugging into his shirt with a violent growl before stalking towards the front door, intent on getting rid of his hikari as quickly as possible.
Yami watched him go sadly, and shook his head before rising to his feet and gathering his discarded clothing. He wasn't going to get answers this way . . . and now that Bakura was out of the room, he was thinking clearly again. Yes, apparently the thief desired him. But that didn't make him feel any better. He wanted more . . . and this was not the way to get it. Shrugging into his shirt, glad that he hadn't bothered to take off his boots, he gathered his jacket and exited by window, leaving his heart behind him. He had no choice . . . but until he knew exactly what the thief's feelings were on this, he wasn't willing to give him anything else to use against him. It would hurt too much otherwise. Shoving his arms into his jacket outside and zipping it, he left the house behind, despair threatening to pull him under. Feeling his deck in his jacket pocket, he decided to go to Kaiba Land to blow off some steam . . . and figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now.
Behind him, at the front door, Ryou was stunned to see a very disheveled and altogether flustered dark stalking towards him.
"I was getting there," the thief snapped, stopping in front of his hikari and crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought you were going out."
"I am," Ryou murmured, still trying to puzzle out exactly what was going. He must have interrupted something more serious than mere drinking for his dark to be this annoyed . . . but what? "I came to get my duel deck . . . Yugi and I are going to head over to Kaiba Land with Yami. Yugi says he's been down lately . . . we're hoping to cheer him up."
One white eyebrow arched curiously at the mention of Yami. Did the hikari's not know that Yami was over here, currently draped over the couch? Surprising . . . the Pharaoh was usually very conscientious about keeping his little light informed on his whereabouts. Concentrating, he summoned Ryou's deck through the Ring, handing it to his lighter half. The last thing he wanted right now was Ryou having to walk through the living room.
"Have fun," he growled, and practically shoved the young boy out the door, smirking as he turned the lock and headed back for the living room. He froze in the doorway as he came back to a very empty room, eyes narrowing dangerously as he took in the open window across the way. Where the hell had the Pharaoh gone?
He stalked over to the window, not surprised to find Yami's footprints in the snow underneath. The white-haired head tilted to one side, examining the marks dangerously before he turned and stalked back into the room, buttoning up his shirt before grabbing his black trench and his boots and slipping out the window as well.
No way in hell was he going to let the Pharaoh get away from finishing what they had started. Why he was so anxious to finish this was beyond him, but he wanted that body with an ache that made his teeth hum. He'd think about the strange pain that was welling up within him at Yami's departure later . . . especially since it was centered around his heart.
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Kaiba Land was bustling with young kids, most of whom had probably been dropped off here while their parents tended to the rest of their Christmas shopping. Yami entered the dueling area slowly, shrugging out of his leather jacket and putting his deck in it's container at his hip before strolling over to a booth in the back corner and sinking into it.
Now that he was here, he really wasn't up to dueling. Rather, all he wanted to do was think. Having disserted the thief the way he had, he was left feeling decidedly unsatisfied, and somehow incomplete. Even knowing what he did about his feelings towards the Tomb Robber was little comfort . . . he knew those feelings could never be returned.
Sighing, he hid his face in his hands, shoulders sagging wearily beneath the weight of his heart. Why, of all people, had he fallen in love with a man who could never love him in return? The feel of the thief's lean body pressed against his haunted him, as did the taste of his lips. He'd gone and fallen in love with a demon, and there was no way of reclaiming that portion of himself that he'd lost.
"Yugi," a voice growled, and Yami rolled his eyes before looking up to meet the sapphire gaze of the one person he really did NOT want to see right now.
"I'm not Yugi, Kaiba," he said, glaring up at the millionaire. "I would have thought you would have figured that out by now, considering how intelligent you usually are." He saw the blue eyes narrow, the weight behind them only growing as the taller man examined him minutely before they widened imperceptibly.
"You're not Yugi . . ." Seto murmured. "But . . . I know you." Crimson eyes closed wearily, the tri-colored hair waving slightly as Yami shook his head in disbelief.
"We've dueled many times, Kaiba," he replied. "You know who I am . . . you simply refuse to believe what Ishizu told you." He rose slowly, stepping out from behind the table as Kaiba backed up unconsciously before catching himself and standing his ground, angry at his lapse.
"Ishizu was nothing more than a two-bit charlatan," the man growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "What she told me means nothing, because it was all Egyptian hocus pocus and fairytales. Who are you?"
"Five thousand years ago, I was a Pharaoh in Egypt," Yami said, tucking his hands into his pants pockets as he glared up at the CEO. "Now, I'm a spirit that's been reborn. You've dueled me before Kaiba, only you thought it was Yugi. He and I shared a body for a time . . . but now I am my own person."
"Impossible . . ." Kaiba growled, but he didn't sound nearly as sure as he wanted to. Yami was not in the mood for this . . . first he'd fallen in love with his enemy, and now he had to deal with his greatest rival, who was a stubborn jackass. Could his day get any better?
"Believe it or not, as you wish, Seto Kaiba," he said wearily. "I couldn't care less at this point in time."
"Yami!" Crimson eyes turned, looking around the taller man and widening as he spied his aibou and young Ryou crossing the lobby towards him. Seto turned as well, a slight gasp escaping his lips as he spied the current Duel Monster's Champion and his companion. "There you are . . . you left the house rather suddenly . . ." He paused as it registered just who it was his dark was talking to. "Hello Kaiba," he murmured warily, amethyst eyes turning to gaze at his yami questioningly. Yami smiled and shook his head.
He still does not believe who I am, aibou, he murmured through their link. Stubborn, as always. He thought I was you at first. Yugi chuckled slightly, maneuvering around the tall millionaire to wrap an arm around his dark's waist, hugging him gently.
"Kaiba, this is my yami. He already knows you . . . far too well, in fact. I'm glad the two of you could finally meet face to face . . . maybe someday you'll be able to understand." Kaiba snorted before stalking off, leaving Ryou smiling after him and shaking his head before turning back to the 'twins'.
"The two of you together are awful," he murmured, his soft British accent laced with amusement. The chocolate eyes darkened considerably, and he reached up with pale fingers to brush over a bruise on the side of Yami's neck. The Pharaoh flinched away from the touch, crimson eyes widening as his own hand rose to brush over the sensitive spot. "Yami?"
The sudden attention Ryou was giving his dark caused Yugi to turn around to look up at him . . . and gave him the very same view. He reached up with one hand to pry Yami's away, tugging his dark downwards so he could get a closer look.
"Yami . . . Kaiba . . .?" he asked, horrified. Yami shook his head, straightening slowly before fingering the growing bruise on his neck consideringly.
"Not Kaiba, little one," he murmured. He glanced at Ryou, and suddenly the white haired youth understood.
"My yami," he said softly. "So . . . I did interrupt something when I went over there to retrieve my deck." Yugi gasped as the taller man flushed slightly, staring up at Yami in shock. "But if so . . . then why are you now here?" Yami sighed and sank back into the booth, the careful mask dropping and allowing the younger boys to see the hurt and confusion beneath.
"Your timely interruption allowed me to gather my rather scattered thoughts," Yami replied quietly. "I . . . I really have fallen in love with your yami, Ryou. But that is an emotion he can never return . . . and I will not simply use him, nor allow him to use me. I cannot." He sighed, shifting to sit with his legs dangling off the bench, staring out at the kaleidoscope of moving bodies as he spoke. "So I left . . . I came here hoping to straighten myself out by getting a few duels in, but once I got here I simply did not feel like it." He sat up suddenly as what felt like an approaching thunderstorm brushed over his skin, and crimson eyes widened as he spied a tall, white haired figure stalking through the crowded lobby towards the dueling arena.
Ryou sensed his yami at the same moment as the Pharaoh, and turned horrified eyes toward him before turning back to face Yami.
"You should get out of here," he whispered. "He's in a foul mood . . . I can feel it. Head back to the card shop . . . we'll tell him we haven't seen you." Yami nodded thankfully, sliding out of the booth with his jacket and hurrying to the far exit, making for the side entrance to Kaiba Land gratefully. He wasn't up to facing the Tomb Robber right now . . . not after what had nearly happened between them, with his emotions still in a complete knot over it.
He felt slightly guilty for leaving Yugi and Ryou to deal with it, but he was relieved and grateful all the same. Heading back to the Turtle Game Shop, he only hoped that he could get control over his emotions again before it was too late to turn back.