The Polaroid Effect

A/N: OMFG! A new chapter in under a week? Amazing! Though it is a pretty short chapter. P

Mentions of blood and such. Do note that the President of the U.S. in this is a completely fictional character that I haven't even bothered to name. Boowah.

You can sort of... ignore the title. It made sense at the time, but I'm not entirely sure if it still does. shruggs It makes a vague sort of sense.

Unsure pairings. Though I do mention past YugiAnzu-ish-ness gasp Don't worry about it though, it doesn't stick. Names are mix and match Japanese/Western. Spoilers. noddnodd I foresee spoilers. For like... the end of YGO or so and crud.

Thankies to Jaysinya, SoulDreamer, It'sHardTooBelieve, Malik-Ishtal2, Silvershadowfire, Loki's Servant, Red, Dryu, and Weeping Angel (I'm not sure how it's gonna work as of yet. The plot is still a bit vague in my head. And YES! That is what I meant for it to mean in the beginning! You get a cookie! And another for the long review. Long reviews are happy) for your reviews. Apologies for misspelled names.

Please be reviewing! Now on to fic!

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Chapter 1:

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Wasn't supposed to turn out like it did. We were all supposed to be happy after it was all over, maybe pause in memory with a touch of sadness for a friend lost once in awhile, but other than that we were supposed to all go on and live happy, fairly normal lives.

That was the way it was for awhile. We went back to school, my grades improved, nobody picked on me anymore. I even made some new friends, though I suppose being the World's Top Duellist does increase your popularity. The press hounded me for a while, but they mostly gave up in a few weeks, pursuing other more interesting stories.

We all hung out – even Kaiba on occasions – went to the arcade, out to eat, duelled... just had fun in general! It was a relief after what we'd all been through, and because of what we'd been through I was a different person now. Bolder, brave, ready to pursue my dreams!

And for that while, I was happy. And while I was happy I barely noticed that he was gone. I barely noticed, and I was happy.

Then one day, when I was dressing for my first real date with Anzu I asked, "What do you think, Yami?"

And there was no answer.

Seto Kaiba stared in shock at the television. It wasn't that the President of United States had been murdered that left him so stunned – though that was pretty shocking in itself – it was the feeling that last night's conversation with the long-lost Yugi Mutou suddenly made more sense.

Impossible! He thought, there was simply no way, no way that Yugi Mutou would ever kill someone, let alone the President of the US!

But there were those little giggles, the ones that made him feel as though he were being left out of some inside joke. They had always come after a statement involving killing... Killing time, no time to kill...

But no! It couldn't be! Maybe if it was Marik, or even Bakura... but not Yugi!

Only, that Yugi, the one he had met in the bar wasn't Yugi. Not the one he'd known. The Yugi in the bar had been different, dark... he'd scared him as only Marik's dark side had. That Yugi was dangerous.

But could any incarnation of Yugi really be a killer?

He needed to make a call. A call to the last person to see Yugi before he disappeared. A person that had refused to speak of Yugi to anyone since that day.

A cell phone was drawn from his pocket, long fingers dialling in the necessary number. The call would cost a lot, long distance as it was, but then cost wasn't a factor when he was involved. The phone rang.

Once. Twice. Thr-

"Hello?"

"Joey Wheeler?" he asked.

"Yeah, who's this?"

He needed to know.

Darkly tanned hands turned the page of a newspaper, idly scanning the article with pale lavender eyes. He didn't really give a shit about the American's news, but it was less suspicious than just waiting impatiently for his informant. He flipped to the next page. Ooh, comics.

Chuckling at the antics of the printed characters, Marik glanced up for a moment and scanned the café. Huh, some guy was looking at him funny. Or more specifically at his gold armbands. He gave the guy the finger and a smirk and laughed when the man turned away, flustered.

Another man walked into the café, and sat down across from Marik. The Egyptian lowered his newspaper and glared.

"You're late."

"I know, I know," the man said. "I got stuck in traffic."

"So, it was him, right?"

"Hm?"

The blonde sighed. "My Mystery Killer. He's the one that got your President, right?"

"Yeah," said the man, slipping a photograph onto the table. "They aren't releasing any details to the public. The press assumes that the person behind this is the one responsible for the disappearance of the President's daughter."

"Uhuh." Marik turned the picture to face him. It showed a Duel Monsters card, Sinister Serpent, partly stained by what must've been blood. "Cause of death?"

"Weird. More so than the others. He was found dead in his bedroom by his wife – she'd been out most of the night. Looked like he was beaten to dead by a horde of small children."

The ex-tomb keeper raised an eyebrow. "Children? Well, I must say it's definitely the work of my guy... Anything else to tell me?"

The man shook his head. "The investigation is still underway."

"Well, then I'll leave you." Standing, Marik exited the small café.

"President of the United States..." the Egyptian mumbled to himself, shaking his head. What had he gotten himself into?

He answered the persistent knock on the door, opening it to reveal a man who looked as though he'd stepped out of a mafia movie.

"What do you want?" he asked, glaring.

"Mr. Marik Ishtar?"

"Yeah."

"My employer has needs for your services."

The violet-eyed man paused for a moment then opened the door wider. "Come on in. Have a seat."

He took a seat at the dinner table and waited for his visitor to do the same. Marik wasn't worried, he could hold his own, and if not, Rishid was lurking around somewhere.

"I'm listening."

"We've heard that you're expertise lies in handling the... ah, supernatural."

"I may have dabbled in the occult. So what?"

"Two of our most respected people have recently been... attacked," the man continued. "My employer is most displeased and wishes to have this attacker found and... dealt with."

"And this has what to do with me?" the Egyptain asked, scowling. "I'm not some hired thug. I don't do peoples' dirty work." Much, he added silently.

"The manner in which the attacks happened is what led us to you, Mr. Ishtar. The first victim was found dead, though there are no wounds and no traces of poison or physical ailments. The second didn't stop screaming until he started bleeding from the throat. These were found where they were."

The man pulled two small cards from his pocket and offered them to Marik.

"Duel Monster cards...?" the blonde man questioned. Pot of Greed and Just Desserts.

The ex-tomb keeper had more than dabbled in the occult before and after the events involving the millennium items, but it had been a long time since he'd encountered anything like this. More than five years...And if everything had gone right, he shouldn't have encountered anything like this at all.

"How much are you paying?"

Let that be a lesson, Marik thought to himself. Never take jobs from mafia-men.

After that he'd left for the United States, done some research – he had connections, some old, some new – and found that these two weren't isolated cases. Several other incidents had occurred over the past five years, not restricted to the U.S. In fact, the first ones had been committed in Asia.

It was strange though. The first victims of this Mystery Killer – though he didn't always kill. As often as not, the people were driven insane – had been small fry. Your average, everyday person. After a while though, the attacker had started going after bigger fish.

Marik mused over the latest killing. Bigger fish indeed, who was he going to go after next? The pope?

The blonde had begun to chuckle when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Something familiar. Wheeling around, he searched the crowd for the person he thought he'd seen.

But no... it couldn't have been Yugi Mutou.

It couldn't have...

"I need to talk to you about Yugi."

The line went silent.

"Wheeler..."

Still no answer, this always happened when someone brought up the violet-eyed duellist.

"Dammit, mutt!" Seto snarled. "This is important!"

"If you have nothing else to talk about, I'm hanging up."

"Listen you stupid-!" The tall brunette took a moment to calm down a bit. "The President of the United States was murdered."

There was a pause, then: "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think he might have done it."

"Yugi?"

"I know what you're thinking, that there's no way that innocent, little Yugi could kill someone," Seto started. "But I met him last night, and he's changed. I don't know what happened when he disappeared, but he's not the Yugi you used to know-"

"I wasn't thinkin' that," Joey said, his voice strangely sullen. "I know he changed. But it didn't happen after he disappeared, it happened five years ago, not long before we graduated."

The businessman was silent, clutching his phone tightly. He'd never heard Wheeler sound like this.

"And I know Yugi could kill someone."

"...how?"

"Because five years ago, he almost killed me."

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