Not much to say, except sorry that I'm posting this at the last possible minute!

Hope this chapter was worth the wait!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Chapter 17

"Wanna talk about it?" I asked Miri over our ice cream, which neither of us had touched.

I had picked her up after school so Mom could rest at home, then taken her for a surprise trip to Salty 'N Sweet. She hadn't spoken to me the entire ride there, the only indication that she wasn't happy about the situation I put her in being a half-hearted huff in the car.

Miri refused to meet my eyes. She didn't make a move to grab her spoon. "No."

I sighed, laying my own spoon on the table next to my sundae. "Mir, I know it's hard. I'm right there with you. But you're making Mom feel guilty acting like this. You know she doesn't deserve this."

"I know." She snapped, glaring down at her waffle bowl.

Tapping my fingernails on the glass table, I glanced at the cherry on top of my ice cream, as if it would tell me what to say to my little sister. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), it didn't. "Come on. At least eat the strawberry ice cream that I bought you."

"Like you're going to eat yours?" She asked, sarcasm evident in her harsh tone.

I recoiled like she'd slapped me. Passive-aggressive Miri didn't often give me – or anyone – attitude. And when she did, it wasn't because she was sad. It was usually because she was pissed. "Touché." I murmured, pushing the dessert to the side.

Miri pursed her lips. "Everything's so screwed up."

"Tell me about it." I said, running a hand through my hair.

We spent a few minutes sitting like that, watching in disinterest as people came and went. My sundae looked less and less appetizing as time ticked on, melting down into a sludgy pile of cream. My mind was forced to wander to the events of the day, to Astrid's weird behavior and Atem's face when I had blurted my harsh words. I hadn't meant to sound so cold about the topic. To be honest, if given the choice, I wouldn't mind going out with Atem. But until things settled down, I didn't know if that would happen. I had too much to worry about with Mom, school, and the stupid cult.

Finally, I couldn't take it. I had to get my mind off of those things. I looked back at Miri, who was absentmindedly mashing her ice cream with her spoon. "How are things at school?"

"Seriously?" She asked in a monotone, eyes darting up to me for a second before returning to the pile of slush she had created. "Of all the things you could have possibly asked, you're asking me about school?"

I shrugged. "I need a change in atmosphere. We both do. So let's talk about something not so depressing."

"But school is depressing." She retorted. "If you want a change in atmosphere, ask me about something that I don't hate."

I huffed. "You're not making this very easy for me, you know."

She looked at me, eyes bored. "That's the point."

I clenched my teeth, observing as she flattened a small hill of pinkish goo with her spoon. A new thought occurred to me, and I tried my best to give her a sly smile. "How's Mokuba?"

This time, she turned her glare to me. Her whole body tensed, and her cheeks darkened just the slightest bit. I knew I'd struck a nerve. "You are not doing this now."

"But I am." I said, leaning over the table so I could stare her right in the eyes, a playful smirk pulling at my lips. "Come on, oblige your elder's wishes."

"No."

Alrighty then. If she wasn't going to tell, I was going to go big-sister mode on her. "Oh, what shall I do to get my baby sister to open her heart to me?" I said, a slight whine in my voice as I threw my hand over my forehead dramatically.

Miri widened her eyes and glanced around the room. "'Rin, stop. People are staring."

I twisted my face into a sorrowful expression. "Let them stare and witness my whispers of siblingly pain!"

"That's not even a word." An edge of frustration carried beneath her voice, but there was also a hint of laughter.

I decided to draw on the laughter, putting my head in my hands and lowering my voice to a whisper. "Such...pain..."

A plastic spoon was flung at me, and I looked up to find her struggling to hold back a grin. "Why are you so weird?"

I threw mine at her. "I prefer the term mentally zonky."

"And I prefer it when you don't act like a hooligan when you're with me in public." She was smiling now, a real smile, one I hadn't seen in what seemed like forever.

"Oh, so I'm with you now?" I asked, throwing a teasing glare her way. "Exactly who picked you up, drove us here, then bought us ice cream?"

"Oh, don't act like such a martyr, mental zonk."

"Look who isn't using real words now!"

Using the spoon I had thrown at her, she launched a cherry at me. "That is a real word, Einstein!"

Dodging the cherry, I laughed. "Not in my dictionary, it's not!"

"Yeah, well, your dictionary is small and mostly contains weird slang words like 'scrilla' and 'crunk.'"

"I don't even know what 'scrilla' means!"

"You will when you go home and google it!"

"True."

Finally, she laughed. It wasn't an all-out laugh – granted, I hadn't been trying that hard to get her to do it – but it was more than a giggle. It sounded like she had been wanting to laugh for a really long time, and had been holding it in, waiting for the right moment. It made me feel accomplished, and brought a warmth to my chest that had been lacking heat lately.

When she calmed back down, I grabbed our unfinished ice creams and stacked them on top of each other. "Wanna get out of here?"

She jumped down from the barstool she was perched on. "I thought you'd never ask."

A few minutes later, we were in the car, the radio turned down because I was trying to use Siri to google "scrilla" on my phone. It only took four tries before I growled in frustration at Siri's misinterpretation of my words and tossed my phone on the floor.

Miri raised an eyebrow. "That was uncalled for."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "You want to be kicked out of my car?"

She put her hands up in surrender, turning back to face the window.

"Hey, Miri?"

"Yeah?"

"I wasn't kidding earlier."

"About what?"

"Your boyfriend."

She groaned. "He's not my boyfriend. He's just a friend."

"But do you want him to be your boyfriend?"

"What kind of question is that?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "You know what I mean, Mir. Do you like him?"

She was quiet for a long time. I kept the silence going, as much as I didn't like it. I didn't try to hassle the answer out of her for fear that I would be ruining my opportunity to have a girl-to-girl conversation with my little sister, but I really wanted to. It was obvious she thought more of Mokuba than she was letting on.

After what felt like an eternity, she sighed. "I think...I think I like him." I grinned, but didn't reply, knowing she would have more to say than that. She did. "He's so nice, and he just...he understands me, you know? Like, he totally understood why I'm reclusive, and my problems with Mom and Dad, even though he's never met his parents. Did you know he and Seto grew up in an orphanage?"

I nodded. "I heard."

"And, I mean, that's...you wouldn't think that Mokuba of all people had a hard life growing up." She looked down to her hands in her lap. "It's strange to think about."

"Maybe that's why he's so understanding."

She nodded. "Maybe."

I pulled the car into our driveway, waiting for her to say something else. As the garage door opened, she took a deep breath. "What should I do, Erin?"

I smiled, proud that she was looking to me for advice on boys, considering my horrible history with the opposite gender. I kept the car running and turned to her. "Go for it."

Her eyebrows shot into her hair. "What?"

"Jump on that horse, girl. He sounds like a good guy."

She hesitated. "But what if he doesn't like me back?"

I turned the key in the ignition to shut the car off. "Mir, you're smart and pretty and generally awesome. Who wouldn't like you back? I'm not saying you have to confess right away, just...you know. Flirt a little, and see if he returns it. If not, you're still friends. If so...well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"But..." She sighed, as if her next words were too hard to get out.

I cocked my head at her. "But what?"

She sucked in her cheeks, trying to think of a way to get her thoughts out. A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between us as I awaited her probably meaningless reservations. Finally, she huffed and looked at the ceiling, frustrated. Nothing else came from her mouth.

"Miri?"

She closed her eyes, face twisting in pain. "I don't know if I want to get into something like that yet."

One of my eyebrows rose, indicating that she should elaborate. She didn't.

Seconds passed in questioning quiet, in which I stared at her and willed her to continue with what she was saying. However, when her eyes darted to the door of the garage, like she was afraid someone would overhear, I understood immediately.

"You don't want to be happy while Mom's not, do you?" I asked, voice softening in empathy. Her reasoning was exactly the same as mine, minus the creepy cult stalking me.

She sighed, then shook her head. "It feels...wrong. And selfish."

I nodded. "I get it. But, Mir?" She met my eyes again. I tried to find a way to word what I was about to say without sounding so hopeless myself. "Mom's going to be like this for a long time. Even with early-stage, the chemo's going to take a while to kick in and start beating the cancer. We're going to have to get used to the way things are right now, whether we like it or not. And you know that Mom wants more than anything for us to be happy, even if she's not. Despite all of this, she'll want us to try to keep having fun so she doesn't feel like such a deadweight. So don't be afraid to be a kid while this is all happening, okay? If Mokuba will make you happy again, go for it. Don't let all of this stop you. Because one day, when it's over, you'll have missed your chance."

Miri didn't reply. Instead, she nodded solemnly, gave me a sad smile, and got out of the car.

I stayed sitting for a few minutes, thinking over my advice, and wondering what Miri was going to do. Then, my mind began to drift again.

Not just to Atem. To everything: my anxiety, Mom, the cult, my visions. I had so much more on my plate than Miri did, and yet...

I knew this was one of those ironic moments you would see in a movie and yell at the main character for being such a hypocrite. I had just told my sister to forget about her current predicament and try to have fun while she could. Which was pretty much exactly what I should have been doing, even if I was facing much stranger and more dangerous situations.

I should be taking my own advice.

Devon was slouched in one of the wide, wooden chairs at a back table in the school library, not even attempting to hide the giant bag of Cheetos he was crunching. However, the librarian seemed to be quite tolerant of this behavior for the day, as she pretended not to notice every time she walked by. I wasn't sure if this was because she knew he wouldn't listen, or if the popular kids at Domino High got special treatment from the staff as well.

He grinned a big, cheesy (literally) grin as I pulled a chair over and sat next to him. "I was beginning to think you'd never show."

"I had to stay after class." I lied. In reality, I had caught up with Yugi, Atem, and the gang before they could begin walking back to the game shop so I could tell them that I'd be a little late to the dinner Yugi had invited us to with Marik and Ishizu. I had tried to change the day of the study hall with Devon so I didn't have to disappoint Atem any more, but Devon was adamant. So I gave in, promising my friends that I wouldn't be more than an hour and a half to two hours later than planned.

With any luck, this would be over soon.

Devon waved his hand dismissively. "Teachers. Sometimes they get in the way. So, pulchra, what's on the agenda?"

My eyes narrowed. He had just done it again. "What did you call me?" Of course, I knew the answer to that question. I had completely understood the Latin word.

"Pulchra. It means 'partner' in Latin." He smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Wrong. My mental translator told me that it meant something much more forward. But I shook my head, deciding to drop it so we could get this over with. "Whatever." I laid the papers we were going to be using across the table. "This project shouldn't be too hard. All we're doing is coming up with a modern translation of the first three acts of a famous play. I chose A Midsummer Night's Dream, since I thought it would be a little more fun than Macbeth."

He picked up one of the papers, upon which I had scanned a copy of the third scene of act two. "Aren't we supposed to make it sound like a modern dialogue? Like, replace things like 'castle' and 'sword' with 'mansion' and 'switchblade'?"

I nodded slowly. "That's what a modern translation is."

"Alrighty then." He clasped his Cheeto-y hands together. "Let's get started."

A half-hour later, we had worked all the way through Act One when he stopped for a minute. "Don't you think it's funny that even after proclaiming his undying love for Hermia, all it takes for Lysander to forget all about her is just a little bit of juice?"

"Magical juice." I corrected, still reading over the second act to figure out how to translate it.

"But the fact still stands: Lysander was head-over-heels for Hermia, but then, suddenly, he just leaves her and begins chasing Helena. All because of some magical juice. It really makes you wonder if that juice is drawing parallels to real life." The tone in his voice had changed. Something lay underneath the strangely-casual contemplation of the play's symbols. Something dark.

I looked up. "If you're talking about high school relationships, then yes, maybe. Except take away the juice, and make Lysander a popular jock, Hermia his shy, quiet girlfriend who won't put out, and Helena her hot cheerleader best friend. Then you've nailed it." I meant for it to be a joke, but Devon didn't laugh.

Instead, he stared back at me with shadowy, intense eyes. "Hermia really loved Lysander. I don't think it was very fair for Lysander to turn on her like that."

Trying not to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze, I cleared my throat. "I think Shakespeare did that to make the play funny, not serious. You're reading a little too far into this."

"And then that douchebag Demetrius comes along, and screws everything up. I mean, yeah, Hermia's heart is broken now and all, but at least Helena had someone who loved her, right? But Helena didn't like Lysander, then Demetrius falls in love with her, and she abandons lovestruck Lysander for Demetrius. Wasn't that a dick move?" His words had become choppier and more aggressive towards the middle of his summary, but he tried to transition back to his lazy, laid-back voice by the last question. I was still put off.

In an attempt to stop his rant, I tried to argue against it. "But that's good for Hermia, right? That Helena doesn't take advantage of Lysander? Because in the end, Lysander is back to loving Hermia again without having done anything unforgivable with Helena."

"That's what I'm trying to get at." Devon leaned over the table, his eyes holding mine so I couldn't look away. I froze and held my breath, not knowing what he was trying to tell me. "What if Lysander never really went back to loving Hermia again? What if he realized that he would never have a chance with Helena, so he went back to Hermia as a safety net for his dignity?"

"He was under a spell, Devon." I said, laughing nervously. "Puck corrects it in the end, and everyone lives happily ever after."

"Or so Puck tells the audience at the end of the play." His voice had dropped to that dangerous tone again, sending terrified shivers down my spine.

It took all of my willpower to break the hold he had on me, but when I did, I turned my eyes back to the paper on the table before me. Then, I did what I did best in awkward situations: made a joke. "Okay, so you have a theory. Good job. You should try starting an argument with Miss Tran tomorrow and make her forget about assigning us homework."

Within seconds, that dark atmosphere he had created vanished, and he went back to slouching indifferently in his chair, as if nothing had ever happened. For a moment, I was almost convinced that nothing had. But the hairs standing up on the back of my neck told me differently.

"Maybe I will. So, where were we?" He asked, going back to scanning over the scenes.

I had to fight to keep my voice steady. "We just started Act Two."

He gave me a lazy smile. "Right. Let's get this done with, then."

We worked in almost total silence for the next forty-five minutes, the only words we exchanged being AMND relevant, and not as horrifying. I still couldn't shake the uneasiness Devon had created in my mind, and it kept wandering to how angry he had sounded while he recounted the basic plot of the play. A part of me really, really wanted to bolt.

Finally, though, we finished the last scene of the third act, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I began packing up my bag. Now all I had to do was get to the game shop and have a nice dinner with my friends and the Ishtars, then I could go home and – with any luck – fall into a deep and dream/vision-less sleep.

Of course, things weren't going to be so easy.

"Hey, Stephenson." Devon put a hand on my shoulder before I could make a break for it. I managed a fake look of curiosity and turned back to him. "What are you doing Friday night?"

I gulped. No. This was not happening. Not now. It took me a long moment before I finally spat out, "Nothing. Why?"

Stupid. The voice in my head scolded. You should have said you had something going on. You're busy all weekend. Every weekend for all eternity.

He grinned. "Get that scared look off your face. I'm only inviting you to a party at my place. My parents are out of town, and I have the house to myself. Everyone in our grade is going to be there."

I had to stop myself from heaving a sigh of relief. "Oh. By everyone, do you mean..."

"That your little band of duelist friends are invited?" He chuckled. "Yeah, they can come, too."

"Um...cool. Thanks. I'll check with them and get back to you." I gave him a forced smile and made to leave again.

He took a few steps to match mine. "You don't have to let me know. If you're coming, then show up. The party starts at eight. See you then?"

I clenched my teeth. "Maybe." I said.

"Great." His smile showed off his gleaming white teeth, and then he was out the door before me. "Catch you later, Stephenson." He called behind him.

My head dropped as I let out a shaky breath.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, the voice said over and over again, mocking me.

"Erin!" Yugi grinned when I entered the Mutos' living room, loosening the tense set of my shoulders slightly with his warm voice. "How was your study hall?"

I shrugged. "We got everything done. So I guess that's a plus."

Someone came up behind me when I was halfway into the room, and I turned to find it was Joey, who by his stern face, I knew had picked up on my uneasiness. "That jerk didn't try anything on ya, did he?"

I shook my head. "No, no. Devon didn't do anything. But he did invite us all to a party at his place on Friday night."

"Dude, seriously?" Tristan asked, appearing from the kitchen. He had a grin on his face. "Let's go!"

My eyebrows shot up. "Really? But it's Devon."

"Yeah," Tristan said, "but he's popular."

Joey folded his arms. "Come on, Tristan. You're not telling me that ya forgot all about how he treats me and Yug at school. Remember last year, in the arcade – "

"I remember." Tristan cut him off. He waved his hand at Joey. "Look, I wasn't saying we should go as partiers. I'm just saying, crashing that party would be so much fun!"

"You guys can crash that party all you want, but I'll be at home, far away from Devon and his posse." I said, ending the argument. "Where are – "

My question was answered just as soon as it came from my mouth. Two figures now stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a girl and a boy. Both had dark olive skin that, oddly enough, matched Atem's (and mine, but I wasn't going to allow my thoughts to go there). The boy looked about our age, with strange platinum-blond hair and light purple eyes, not nearly as deep and dark as Atem's. He wore a hoodie and lightwashed jeans that clung to his legs in all of the right places. This boy was not just cute. He was exotic, and the marks under his eyes only added to the look. I guessed he must have been Marik.

But all of my rational thoughts flew out the window when I looked at Ishizu, his sister. I froze, eyes wide and blood running cold.

With jet-black hair and wise blue eyes, Ishizu Ishtar stood an inch or two taller than her brother, her back straight and her simple Egyptian dress reaching her sandal-bound ankles. She was staring at me in what I would have called awe, probably about the same expression I was giving her at the moment.

I couldn't believe it. She looked exactly like Isis!

We stood there, regarding one another, for a long time. However, it was Ishizu who broke the silence. "Hello, Erin. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

I had to stop myself from gasping. She even sounded like Isis! But I knew that continuing to stare at her with that look on my face would be pretty rude and creepy. I shook my head and held my hand out, plastering on a fake smile. "Uh, hi. It's nice to meet you guys, too. I've heard a lot about you."

She took my hand and shook it, eyes still reflecting the wonder I had seen in her expression just moments ago.

I looked at the boy next to her. "And you're Marik, right? Nice to meet you, too." He was hesitant to take my hand, but when he did, his handshake was firm and strong.

"And you, Erin." His voice was calm and cool, much like the clothes he wore.

"Well, now that the introductions have been made," Yugi said, not even bothering to hide the grin on his face, "it's time to eat! Grandpa and Atem cooked up some really good pot roast tonight."

Ishizu ceased her intense staring session and turned to Yugi. "That sounds delicious."

Joey elbowed me in the side as we followed Yugi and the two Egyptians to the dining table. "Betcha didn't know Atem was a wizard in the kitchen, huh?"

I shook my head. "Honestly, nothing will surprise me at this point." And my words were true. Between the events of the last couple of weeks and the sudden appearance of the Ishtars, I didn't have the capacity to be surprised anymore.

We found Atem and Mr. Muto already sitting at the table, upon which sat a large crockpot filled with mouth-watering meat and carrots. Various side dishes were scattered around. Atem got up when I came in, pulling out the chair next to him so I could sit down.

"How are you?" He asked, like this was all just a normal day at the Muto house.

I looked at him and shrugged as he retook his seat. "I'm fine. Your friends are nice."

"They've been dying to meet you." He repeated the words he had been saying to me since I learned that they were coming to Domino.

"I've heard." I said, avoiding Ishizu's stare as I leaned closer to Atem so my hair would cover my face. "Is Ishizu...okay?"

A small chuckle came from Atem, but then he leaned in to me. "Yes. But she and Marik had a long flight here. I imagine the two of them are very tired."

I nodded, then turned to my plate, which was empty. Everyone else had begun helping themselves, piling meat and mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables onto their platters. I had to admit, the roast looked amazing. If I hadn't been on a stress-fueled fast, I would have stuffed myself full with it.

Not that I hadn't been eating. I had forced myself to eat a sandwich for dinner the night before, and a bowl of cereal for breakfast and an apple for lunch. But I just couldn't stomach much more than that. Miri and I got the unhealthy eating patterns from Mom. It was a running joke in our family that if we didn't have those random periods of not eating, we wouldn't be so thin.

To make myself feel a little less guilty about not being able to eat the amazing feast before me, I took a small piece of roast and a child-size serving of mashed potatoes, then pushed them around on my plate a bit with my fork. Every once in a while, I would put my fork to my mouth with the smallest bite of food and pretend to be chewing so no one would get suspicious.

"Erin, I hear that you recently moved here from another state?" Ishizu asked, breaking me out of my I'm-totally-eating act.

I smiled at her, trying to ignore the way her gentle voice reminded me of Isis'. "Yeah. All the way from Missouri."

Her face lit up at my smile, and got even more excited when I spoke directly to her. If I didn't know better, I might compare her reactions to that of a fangirl meeting her favorite celebrity. Maybe meeting me was like that for her, since I wasn't from her country? "Did you move here with your family, then?" She asked. Underneath the feigned casualness of her tone, I could hear how genuinely curious she was.

I nodded. "My mom and my little sister, Miri. My brother chose to stay with my father back home. We keep in touch."

"And you seem to have adjusted well to Domino City." She glanced for a moment to Atem, who sat next to me, watching me as I answered the questions.

"Yes, actually. But I couldn't have without the help of all of the lovely people sitting around this table." I smiled and made eye contact with every one of my friends, and Joey and Tristan winked at me. Yugi beamed. Atem returned my smile with a happy smirk of his own. Tea tried to smile, but then looked back down to her food before I could really translate the look that was in her eyes.

"Oh, stop it, Erin." Joey said, over exaggerating his flattery and batting his eyelashes.

We all laughed, and then Ishizu turned back to me. "Do you have an interest in history, Erin?"

I took a moment to contemplate her random question, then shrugged and nodded. "It's always been cool to learn about the past. And, I mean, it's my best subject in school. I guess you could say I put a little more effort into it than my other classes. So, yeah, I guess I do."

"Have you heard the story of the Nameless Pharaoh?"

The words ate at something in my mind, but I shook my head. I didn't miss the almost-imperceptible movement of Ishizu's eyes between mine and Atem's.

Atem nudged me in the arm. "I told you some of it. Remember? Sagira and the king that she was in love with." His voice was slightly lower, carrying with it an edge that I couldn't – or didn't want to – understand.

"Oh, right!" I said. Though my skin still bristled at the mention of Sagira's name, I nodded as if it was just another topic of conversation. "And Mahad, the Pharaoh's friend."

"Yes." Ishizu smiled slightly, then frowned. "How much of the story do you know?"

Everyone at the table was silent, ears tuned to listen to every word I said. I felt like a zoo animal being observed by curious biologists. It was not a pleasant feeling. However, I tried to keep the kind and open look on my face. "Um...Atem pretty much summed it up. There was a girl named Sagira in ancient Egypt who fell in love with a Pharaoh. Mahad was a magician, and also the Pharaoh's friend. The Pharaoh died, and I guess Sagira died a few days or weeks later. Maybe from a broken heart? Atem didn't get that far."

Marik cleared his throat for no reason. Ishizu didn't look at him. She was still fixed on me, as were all of the other eyes in the room.

"Have you been to the museum downtown?" Ishizu asked. Her question was casual, and I relaxed a little. Had I imagined the strange look on her face as I had answered her last one?

I shook my head. "Not yet. I've really wanted to go, though. Everything's just been really busy these last few weeks." The group nodded to confirm my words.

Marik smiled, then exchanged a glance with his sister. "Maybe we could accompany you sometime in the next few days. If you're interested, there's an exhibit from Sagira's time in ancient Egypt. I'm sure Ishizu would be more than happy to give you the grand tour of the Egyptian section of the museum."

Ishizu nodded with his words, a glitter of excitement in her brilliant blue eyes. "I could, if you would like."

"Sure." I said. "That sounds fun."

"What about tomorrow after school?" Yugi asked. "We're all free, right? How about instead of meeting here, we just head straight to the museum?"

Everyone nodded. I did, too, tearing my eyes away from Ishizu and to the tablecloth, as if it was more interesting. I could still feel her eyes on me.

"Erin, do you – " She began another question.

Marik elbowed her. "Sis, please, let the poor girl eat."

Ishizu chuckled a little to play off her brother's quip. "Right. My apologies."

"It's okay, really." I gave her a small smile, then went back to playing with my food, grateful for Marik's interruption. I probably would have answered more of her questions, but I had been growing a tad uneasy about where the conversation had been going.

Was it a coincidence that she had just so happened to randomly mention the story that my subconscious mind seemed to be piecing together in my dreams? Or that she looked exactly like the girl from one of those such dreams?

No. That would be too many coincidences. There had to be something else going on.

Marik turned the topic over, instead asking Yugi, Joey, and Atem about Kaiba's tournament in the winter. By the sound of it, Marik was a duelist, too. I pretended to be enraptured in the talk of new monster cards and state-of-the-art duel discs, pushing my food around on my plate and lifting my mostly-empty fork to my mouth on occasion. After a while, though, my mind began to wander.

Tea didn't speak the whole rest of the dinner. She would nod along and "mm-hmm" every once in a while, but I could tell she was just as out of it as I was. It was uncharacteristic of her, really, to be anything less than friendly and talkative. I wondered what was wrong.

An hour later, we all began to say our goodbyes, leaving one by one. We thanked Mr. Muto and Atem for dinner, and Joey even took a tupperware container of roast home for Serenity. My goodbye the the Ishtars was somewhat awkward, but Ishizu seemed to have recovered from whatever had been prompting her to stare at me, so I was less uncomfortable. Marik was nice, and apologized on the side to me for his sister's boldness. I told him not to worry about it.

Atem followed me all the way out to my car, standing and waiting as I fished for my keys in my purse.

"So, what do you think of them?" He asked.

I shrugged, pulling the keyring from a side pocket. "They're nice. Like you said they would be. It's always cool to meet people from another country."

There was a moment of silence between my words and my car unlocking. I prepared to tell him goodbye, too, so I could go home and check on Mom and make sure she and Miri had eaten today.

"Why didn't you eat?"

The question was so out of the blue that I was taken off guard. "What?"

He jerked his head towards the game shop. "You didn't eat anything at dinner. You had the same amount of food on your plate when you got up as you did when you sat down. I was just curious, since you are usually right there with Joey complaining about being hungry."

It took me a second to think of an excuse. Lying to Atem had not gotten any easier. I shrugged. "I don't know. The food looked amazing, don't get me wrong, but I guess I lost my appetite after having to hang out with Devon for an hour and a half." I tried a smile to accentuate my joke, but he didn't smile back like he usually would.

"I imagine you wouldn't be hungry after that entire apple you ate for lunch today."

I closed my eyes and sighed. He really paid that close of attention to my eating patterns? This was the kind of thing that made it look like we were together to people like Astrid. "I'm sorry." I waved my hands around, looking for the right words. "It's this thing that the girls in my family do when we're stressed. We don't eat as much. But I'm still eating, I swear."

A pause. Then, "Erin?"

I opened my eyes to find him a little closer to me. "Yeah?"

"I understand that you're dealing with a lot right now. But I want you to take care of yourself. Please." His eyes were begging.

In that moment, I wanted to tell him everything. About the visions, about his part in them, about my sister and Mokuba and how Ishizu looked like Isis and that there was also a girl named Mana that Sagira had also apparently been really close to. But most of all, I wanted to give in to the weird pull I felt towards Atem, to close the distance between us and inhale his darkly wonderful cologne. Not for a kiss, per se, but just to hold on to him. To see if the way my body molded to his was just an aspect of the dreams, or if if was real. I wanted to be closer to him, physically and not. He cared for me so much, it seemed. He knew how to get me to talk when I didn't want to. He listened to my every word like I was the most captivating person he'd ever met. His eyes saw past every wall I threw in his face. I wanted – yearned – to reciprocate that.

But something inside me, even now, kept the words from leaving my throat, my body from moving. I stayed still and tried not to feel the guilt that was once again eating at my stomach. "Okay." I whispered.

He opened the car door for me. God, and now he's being a gentleman! "Promise me you'll eat something when you get home."

I nodded. "Okay." I repeated, a little louder this time.

After I was situated in my seat and had started the car, Atem made to close the door. But then he leaned down so he could say something else. "Would it be cheesy if I told you to have a good night?"

I laughed a little. Atem's bursts of awkwardness were cute and funny to me. The pain in my stomach grew some more. "No. You have a good night, too."

"I will if you will."

"I will." He began to close the door again. "Bye, Atem."

"Good night, Erin."

And then I was alone in my car, music turned down and windows tinted so he couldn't see inside.

As I pulled away from the curb, there was only one tear that I couldn't keep from escaping my eye. My breaths shook.

Oh, how much I wished I could stop holding back.

Woohoo! Ishizu and Marik are here to save the day (kind of)! As to why Ishizu is acting like a fangirl, you guys have to remember that she grew up hearing about Sagira. Sagira was always this elusive mystery to the Tombkeepers. Actually getting to meet the long-lost queen of ancient Egypt is really exciting for Ishizu. Let her have her moment!

And yay for cute sister bonding moment! What's going to happen between Miri and Mokuba? How will this affect Erin and Kaiba?

What was Devon rambling on about, anyway?

Will the gang go to Devon's party?

And OH MY GOSH is anyone else frustrated that Erin won't just tell Atem? Just me? I mean, I know I'm the writer, but gosh dang, it's killing me.

Anyway, guys, hope you liked it! Please leave a review if you did! I still love hearing from all of you!

Later, alligators!

-creativelybored