I'm sorry about not updating MLMR, guys...I haven't been in a good mood lately. Maybe when I'm feeling a little better, I'll get back to it. For now, though, here's this.

A Little Prayer

Yami groaned a little, cracking open one eye. A wave of disorientation hit him. This wasn't his room—what was he doing here?

The events of the night before flooded into his brain. He groaned, burrowing his head under the pillow. He had fought with Kaiba, and then come up here—to Yugi's room.

Yugi…

Yami found he was looking into the mirror; looking at himself. There were dark circles under his eyes, his face was haggard, and his normally bright crimson eyes had dulled to a blood-red tint—but his likeness to his hikari was still almost too much for him to bear.

He wanted to cry again, but there were no more tears—nothing but a cold, hard shell of ice around his heart. The only emotions he felt were bitter anger and resentment, shaded with grief.

Yugi hated him.

He hated himself.

With another groan, Yami pulled himself out of bed, went to his own room, and got dressed. As usual, he dressed in black—but today he was going to go just a bit further than that.

Yami smiled bitterly as the people he passed on the sidewalk gave him wide berth. And well they should, he thought dryly. He had, after all, changed his appearance pretty dramatically to fit his darker mood.

For one, his hair was now completely black. He had spent the morning dying it to that particular color—it wasn't the shimmery sort of black that still seems cheerful, but a dark, heavy black that made you think of graveyards. Coupled with his black clothing, it emphasized the unhealthy pale tone his skin had taken on. The leather clung to his skin, betraying how thin he had become from lack of proper eating. He had also used a bit of Shadow magic to tint his eyes from their original sullen red to empty black.

In all, as he had heard someone say in a half-fearful whisper, he was a teen who was dead and didn't know it yet.

Walking dead, he thought, with a grim sort of pleasure. That's what I am—living, breathing dead.

Slowly, Yami made his way to the park. No one noticed him, except to shoot him half-fearful, half-pitying glances. He didn't care; he didn't want their pity.

What he wanted…he could never have.

He sat down on a park bench, and let his mind drift. He still didn't really understand why Yugi had done himself in—only that it had to do with him.

"Yugi," he murmured to himself, staring at his hands.

Suddenly, the sound of someone bawling reached his ears. Startled, he looked up. A boy of about six was sitting in the grass, crying. He looked a little afraid, and he was clutching a plush rabbit toy to his chest.

"Jake! Jake!"

The little boy jumped, and looked up. A boy of nine or ten that looked almost exactly like him ran up, waving frantically. "I'm soo sorry, Jake! I didn't know I'd be gone so long!"

Jake clutched his plushie tighter. "I was s-scared, Travis!" he cried. "I th-thought you were n-never gonna c-come back!"

Travis hugged Jake protectively. "You know I'd never leave you alone for so long like that on purpose, little bro."

Jake sniffed. "Y-You've done it b-before!"

"Only cuz I had to," Travis protested. "I was later than I thought I'd be—it was an accident."

Jake hugged Travis tighter. "D-Don't leave me alone again!"

Travis grinned a little. "C'mon, bro, you know I can't promise that."

"D-Do it a-anyway!"

Travis sighed exasperatedly. "All right, I promise. Now, let's go back and see if the swings are still open!"

Yami watched the two boys run off, hand-in-hand. His heart ached. Somehow, they reminded him of himself and Yugi.

"You…you promised me…"

He had promised. And he'd broken his promise. He deserved what he had got.

But Yugi didn't…

Yami stood up, and began to walk. He didn't even pay attention to where he was going—he just let his feet carry him. Eventually, he went out of the park, and approached a four-way intersection. Completely disregarding the 'Do Not Walk' sign, he started across the street with slow, deliberate steps.

He was dimly aware of the squealing tires and honking horns, and of the people shouting at him to get the hell out of the road before he got run over. He didn't even hear the screech of metal as one car bumped into another.

Death trap! his instincts screamed.

Good, his mind replied bitterly.

As he approached the other side of the road, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him roughly up onto the pavement. "Yami, what the hell do you think you're doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Yami turned his head a little and just looked at Duke, saying nothing.

Duke shuddered visibly. That stare creeped him out. Yami was turning into something that almost wasn't human. "Yami, you need some help."

Yami tore his arm out of Duke's grip. "Sorry. I don't need anyone's help." He walked away, leaving an immensely dumbfounded Duke behind.

His steps lead him to Clock Tower square—the center of Domino, and the place where the Battle City tournament had officially begun. The big clock read five fifteen—the sky was already beginning to darken.

He closed his eyes and turned away. This place held too many memories.

"I thought we would be together forever. You betrayed me, Yami!"

Yami's eyes snapped open.

That voice.

That haunting voice.

"You promised me you'd be there when I needed you! Why, Yami? Why this time, when what I needed most was you?"

Yami sank to the cobbles, holding his head, ignoring the fearful looks he was getting.

"You told me you'd always be there!" the voice screamed. "You promised to stay by my side! You said I would have your strength when I needed it—and I needed it then! You promised I'd never be alone!"

Yami squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands against his ears. "Please, stop it, no more, oh Ra, no more!" he murmured repeatedly.

Unheeding, the voice screeched on. "TRAITOR! BETRAYER! DESERTER! MUR—"

Someone kicked him in the ribs, sending him sprawling over sideways onto the cobbles. He lay there, wheezing, massaging his chest. The voice retreated into the depths of his mind.

"Mutou, get up off the ground."

Yami glared at Kaiba, rising to his feet. "What do you want?"

Kaiba crossed his arms. "The same thing I wanted last night, stupid."

Yami growled. "Go away." He tried to walk away, but Kaiba grabbed his arm.

"Oh, no you don't. You're coming with me."

Yami rolled his eyes, and followed Kaiba back to the street. The two of them got in Kaiba's limo, and Kaiba gave the driver orders to take them to 'the headquarters'.

Yami sat in the very back of the limo, slumped low in his seat, almost invisible in the shadows. His eyes were glazed over with exhaustion, and he had a headache. To make things worse, that horrible Yugi-that-wasn't-Yugi voice was still whispering in his ear.

"Traitor, betrayer, deserter, murderer, breaker of promises, destroyer of trust…"

Yami sealed his mind, sinking lower in the seat. The problem was the fact that the voice was absolutely right.

He suddenly noticed that Kaiba had been watching him this whole time. "What're you looking at?" he growled.

Kaiba's lips lifted in a little smirk. "You."

"Very funny."

"I know."

Yami rolled his eyes, turning away from Kaiba. The sarcasm was getting on his nerves.

The limo ground to a halt outside the KaibaCorp HQ building. "Here we are, Mr. Kaiba."

Kaiba nodded, opening the door and stepping out. Gesturing for Yami to follow, he swept up to the glass doors and entered. The two of them found an elevator and took it to the top floor. Kaiba unlocked his office, pushed Yami in before him, and shut the door behind them.

He turned, studying the pharaoh with his icy, piercing gaze. "First question. What were you doing, walking across the street when the 'Do Not Walk' was up?"

Yami growled. "First answer. Go screw yourself."

Kaiba sighed. "This is going to take longer than I thought…"

Yami crossed his arms. "Damn straight it will."

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "All right then, I'll start with something simpler. Why were you in the middle of the square like that?"

Yami shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me."

Kaiba sighed again. "Mutou, I think I'm long past the point where I was a complete skeptic. Hanging around you, I've seen things that defy any explanation other than 'magic'. So try me."

"If you insist." Yami closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Yugi…I keep hearing him. He killed himself…because I broke my promise…and now, he's haunting me for it…"

Kaiba snorted. "All right, I know what's going on here."

Yami glanced sharply at him. "What?"

Kaiba tapped himself on the forehead. "It's all in your head. You're feeling guilty, and so you think you're hearing Yugi's voice, when you're actually yelling at yourself."

Yami bowed his head a little. His bangs shaded his eyes. "Somehow, I highly doubt that. No one could imitate him." He laughed bitterly. "Not even me. He hates me. Can't you understand that, Kaiba? He loathes me."

Neither said anything for a few tense moments. Yami was dimly aware that he was crying again, but he didn't care. For the second time in two days, Kaiba was barging into his life, without a second thought about his own feelings.

Whap!

Yami staggered backwards, staring at Kaiba with shock and surprise on his face. A red hand print was appearing on his cheek, which stung horribly.

"Apparently, pain makes you a bit more tractable," Kaiba said grimly. He grabbed Yami by the shoulders. "Listen to me, Mutou. You've got to get over this. The longer you sit in the shadows and sulk, the more you hold yourself back."

"And where's the problem in that?" Yami tried desperately to mask the hurt in his voice—and failed miserably.

Kaiba sighed exasperatedly. "Look, I'm trying to help you out here!"

Yami tore himself away from Kaiba's grip. "And I told you already that I don't need your help! Now just leave me alone!" He turned and fled out through the door, not even bothering to say sorry as he nearly bowled Mokuba over. He ran all the way home, and when he finally got to his room, he fell right asleep—to exhausted even to cry.

That night, Mokuba knelt next to his bed and clasped his hands in front of his chest.

"God, if you're out there somewhere, we need your help. I know it's wrong to eavesdrop, but I overheard what my big brother Seto was saying to Yami when I went up to talk to him. Yami's feeling really bad—he's not himself. He thinks Yugi did suicide because of him. He's completely changed—he scares me, and everyone else. I think his soul is sick, but he won't let anyone help him. Maybe you can. Please help him, before he totally loses it!"

Mokuba finished his prayer, climbed up into bed, and looked out the window. A shooting star streaked across the sky. "Please," he murmured.

Okay, yeah, lame chapter, lame ending. Sue me.