AAARGH! (runs away from people with pitchforks) I know it's taken me forever to update this story, but jeez! If you're that mad, then just read it now!

Chapter Four
Common Ground

"Yami? Yami, where are you?"

Yami looked around. A thick, grey mist surrounded him. And…someone was calling out to him.

His breath caught in his throat. It was Yugi.

"Why can't I see you? Everything's…so dark! I can't find you…or anything…"

Yami ran towards the voice. He found Yugi sitting cross-legged on the ground. As Yami approached, he sprang to his feet.

"Yami!" he cried joyously.

"Yugi!"

Yami bent so he was at eye level with his friend. Yugi looked at him—and froze. His smile faded.

"Wait…! Y-You're not Yami!"

"But…who else would I be?" Yami put a hand on Yugi's shoulder. The shorter boy recoiled, fear in his eyes.

"No! You—you can't be Yami! The darkness…I can feel it…all around you…all inside you! You won't hurt me—you won't take me!"

He began to run in the opposite direction. "Yami! Help me! They're after me—they'll get me! I need you, Yami—HEEEELP!"

"Wait! YUGI!"

Yami sat bolt upright. He looked wildly around, panting slightly. His black silk nightclothes were rumpled, as were his bedsheets. There were no grey mists; no Yugi. Yami stood up and hit the light switch, shaken.

That dream…it was so real…like it actually happened. But—it can't have.

…Can it?

He headed out of his room, fully intending to get a glass of water. He hit the light switch in the kitchen—and nearly had a heart attack.

He thought he saw—no, saw—Yugi. Right there in the middle of the kitchen, staring up at him with sorrow and anger on his face.

And then he was gone.

Yami drew in a deep breath, and gave his head a little shake. He was just seeing things, he told himself, reaching for one of the plastic cups. The strain was just getting to him.

He filled the cup from the fridge, drank half of the icy water in one gulp, and splashed the rest across his face. Feeling slightly better, he turned to head back upstairs.

Then someone rapped on the shop door.

Yami paused. Who would be out at this hour?

The rapping came again—more insistent this time.

Yami growled slightly, moving into the shop. He was being deprived of sleep, and didn't like it.

The shades were drawn on the windows and doors, so Yami couldn't see who it was. He cracked open the door. "It's nearly midnight, in case you hadn't noticed," he said tersely, "and some people are trying to get some sleep."

The man outside snorted, crossing his arms. "Your light is on. Apparently, you aren't one of those 'some people'."

Yami growled. "What do you want, Kaiba?"

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "How about we start with an invitation inside?"

Yami growled again, shoving open the door. Kaiba was starting to get on his nerves—and there was no doubt in his mind that the CEO was enjoying every minute of it. "Come on, then."

He moved back into the kitchen, Kaiba right behind him. Strangely, he said nothing; merely taking a seat at the kitchen table, watching Yami through veiled eyes.

"Why are you here?"

The question was expected, and Kaiba already had a reply. "To figure out what the hell is wrong with you."

Yami blinked. "What?"

Kaiba snorted. "Before you get any ideas—I could care less. I just want you in top performance the next time we duel." He eyed the dark circles around Yami's eyes with thinly veiled contempt. "And if what I see is any judge, you're far from it."

Figures, Yami thought wryly. He shook his head. "Nothing's wrong with me, Kaiba. You'd never beat me, anyways."

Kaiba suddenly seemed to get an idea. "Why, exactly, would I be unable to defeat you?"

Yami snorted. "It's obvious, isn't it? I'm better, and you know it."

"A-ha! I knew there was something wrong with you!" Kaiba's face lifted in a triumphant smirk. "No fairy tales and spirituals? No 'Heart of the Cards' speeches? Yeah—you've got a problem."

Yami sighed, a note of irritation in his voice. "So I have something on my mind. So what? Why are you so concerned?"

Kaiba just gave him a bland stare.

Yami eyed him suspiciously. He must be up to something. Why should he care about me? No one else cares for me—so why should an arrogant, egotistical brat like him? He's my rival—and Yugi's.

Pain stabbed at him. Yugi…

His thoughts were interrupted by Kaiba drumming his fingers on the table. "So, your problem is…?"

Yami closed his eyes. "I doubt you'd understand," he said quietly. "I doubt anyone can understand."

Kaiba sighed. "Look, Mutou, I know something's wrong with you. Every time I mention a certain something—someone—you wince." And suddenly, out of nowhere; "It's about Yugi, isn't it?"

Yami flinched—and turned away, realizing that Kaiba had caught on a long time ago. "It is. What's it to you?" His voice began to get louder; angrier. "All you care about is that stupid business of yours—and about beating Yugi! You don't even care that he's gone, and that he won't ever come back—you just care that it's another obstacle out of your way!"

Hot tears were streaming down his face, but he didn't care. He didn't care that he was crying like a baby—and in front of Kaiba, no less; he didn't care that his arch-rival was now witnessing a total breakdown of his will; he didn't care about anything anymore. His only light was gone, and inside, he was broken.

Suddenly, Kaiba had him held up a foot in the air by the collar of his shirt. "Get a hold of yourself!" he snarled. "Do you have any idea how weak this makes you look?"

"I don't care!" Yami shouted, twisting free of Kaiba's grip. "I just don't care! The only thing I wish is to be left alone—and that Yugi hadn't gone and killed himself!"

He stood there, breathing heavily, glaring at Kaiba. Tears still trickled from the corners of his eyes, but he didn't notice—all he saw was Kaiba's scornful face.

"I know you don't give a damn that he's gone," he whispered, "but can't you at least leave me in peace?" He'd tried to shout again, to be angry at Kaiba, but the emotional strain had weakened him so much that the words came out more like a broken sob.

"No," Kaiba said quietly. "I'm not going to leave you alone about it."

Yami groaned, and sank to his knees. Kaiba had finally found his weakness, and was tearing him apart piece by piece. "Why? Why can't you just leave? Everyone else has left me…so why can't you?"

Kaiba crossed his arms. "You yourself drove them off. I'm not that easy."

"Persistent bastard," Yami muttered.

"Yes, I've been told that often. It's one of my failings in life."

A small, bitter smile crossed Yami's face. "The great Seto Kaiba has failings? That's a first." He slumped back against the cabinets, eyes closed. "Although, curiosity is another."

He opened one eye. "Tell me, Kaiba—have you ever had anyone so very close to your heart that, if you were to lose them, you felt you would lose a part of yourself? Well, I've lost Yugi twice. Each time, it was like part of my soul was carved out. But each time, I managed to get him back." He closed his eyes again. "This time, I can't get him back—not without sacrificing myself in the process."

Because his eyes were closed, he didn't see the conflicting emotions on Kaiba's face.

To put it simply, Kaiba was confused. He wanted to keep tearing at Yami, to see how much more strain he could take before snapping. The former pharaoh looked so pitiful; so defeated. The only problem was that Kaiba was starting to feel sorry for him. After seeing Yami—the one who was always calm, who always had an answer to any problem, be it one cooked up by Kaiba himself or some other criminal mastermind—sitting there in front of him, completely broken over the loss of a friend, his hatred was slowly starting to fade.

Yami was only human, he was beginning to realize. He may have been a spirit for five thousand plus years, but he was still human.

"Get up off the floor, Mutou."

Yami didn't hear the thoughtful tone in Kaiba's voice. He stood up, head bowed, bangs shading his eyes. "Say whatever you want. I don't care. Nothing you can say will hurt me any more than this has. You want the title of King of Games? Take it. You want me never to duel again? Gladly. All of it just reminds me of Yugi. I don't care if you think I'm weak. I just don't care…"

"But you do care."

Startled, Yami looked up. Kaiba's expression was thoughtful, and his voice wasn't as cold and indifferent.

"You do care," Kaiba repeated slowly, as if turning things over in his mind. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have been affected so badly… All of this just proves you care."

"So?" Yami muttered bitterly. "What's it matter to you? Don't you have your business to take care of right now?"

Kaiba winced slightly. He knew he was more focused on KaibaCorp that most other things—but the way Yami put it, it was as if his business was the only thing he concentrated on.

Yami made a sort of shooing motion with his hands. "Go on, Kaiba—run along back to your buildings." His tone of voice was sarcastic. "I'm sure you have lots of work to do, and nothing is as important as your work, is it?"

Kaiba's eye twitched. "In case you never noticed, Mutou, I have a brother."

Yami clapped a hand to his head in mock surprise. "Oh, that's right! I forgot about Mokuba! Why don't you go home and take care of him now? Oh, wait—I forgot that there's work you have to do! Mokuba will just have to wait until it's finished!"

Kaiba clenched his fists. "You're impossible!" he shouted, turning on his heel and marching away.

"No duh!" Yami replied, following him as far as he dared.

Kaiba wrenched open the door, and turned to glare at Yami. "I'm only trying to help you, you idiot!" He marched out the door, not even bothering to close it.

"I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" Yami hollered at Kaiba's retreating form, and slammed the shop door so hard that it was a wonder the glass didn't break. He stormed up to his bedroom, flung himself onto the bed—

And began to sob.

Hah, there ya go! I think I might go work on another chapter now...

Review, please!