--

three.

--

This hadn't been the type of material he had in mind. By the Gods, he wasn't sure if it could be considered material¸ considering for the past three-thousand and seventeen years of his life, all Yami classified cloths as was linen or leather. Denim, on the other hand, was still something he needed to get used to. According to one deadpan Yugi Mutou, leather was rarely seen as school appropriate, let alone something for their age group.

In some disturbing way, one groused and pouting once pharaoh took into consideration why an oddball like Yugi (someone who was extremely short for his age group and so gentle he was scared of flies) would wear leather and pieced together that Yugi wore it out of generosity for him. He hoped so, anyway.

Despite the countless times Yami recalled seeing Anzu in miniskirts and low-cut shirts that might as well covered nothing but her stomach, they were apparently deemed more appropriate for a teenager than leather pants. He resisted the urge to harrumph, only staring at the inexplicit substitute to his leather fetish.

For five long minutes, Yami stood against the dressing room mirror and—although satisfied with how well snug these pants really seemed—frowned. He shifted in the grimy Converse Yugi exasperatedly demanded he wore and uncomfortably curled his toes.

This wasn't right. This…this wasn't him!

He…he looked like… Oh, cripes. Yami smacked himself, anti-narcissistically backing away from the mirror that captured his every curve and physique. Wary dark eyes glared at its reflection and scrutinized the teenager staring back. That was right—a normal teenager. Nothing special. Nothing regal. With a shudder, Yami's fingers instinctively wound around the bracelet feigning his serenity.

"Atemu—are you done yet?"

Fake serenity left. "Yes—I'm…just a bit uncomfortable." He forced a smile but slapped himself as he realized Yugi would not have seen it either way. His fingers tightened around the shimmering lace and he bit his lip. Three days had passed since Sugoroku urged him to stay at the Mutou Residence. Somehow during the first twenty-four hours as Yami handled the storefront, both he and Suzuki had managed to sneak out the house and prepare a seemingly-normal room with a brand new mattress and mirror.

Yugi had shown up later that night while Yami watched Suzuki fold clothes and Sugoroku insisted on fixing the kitchen sink, taking little notice to the fact that the noble adolescent was still there. Three nights straight, Yugi was out on an adventure for whoknowswhat and would come home late in the evenings. According to Suzuki, this was normal behavior, and actually much earlier than when Yami was still residing in the puzzle. At that thought, Yami's cheeks flared as he steadily peeled off the uncomfortable polo and grabbed a particularly more expensive shirt that he found in the front of the store.

This one looked…nice. Plain, simple, and—Yami checked the price tag and grimaced—too expensive! He tossed the shirt to the side and snatched his wallet, quickly flipping through what little money he had and sighed before awkwardly grazing the credit card the old man insisted on gifting him.

The second Yami left the house he swore he would not use it. Out of all the tips and paycheck he got, it all came to a rounded total of fifty-seven dollars and twenty-one cents. According to Suzuki, that wasn't even likely to buy him a scarf at the mall. Now, Yami knew why.

He shrugged off the fact that Grandpa forced the card on him, demanding he not to come back until at least five hundred dollars were spent on a wardrobe, text books, and whatever else he liked before stripping (with a struggle because of the thickness of material) of his pants. He suddenly halted and stared at the blue denim that was also forced on him.

There was a better likelihood of Katsuya Jonouchi taking over KaibaCorp than him risking another Ra-forsaken rash in the abomination of Yugi's pants.

Yami took one look at his bare legs before hiking the black material above his hips and pulled the dark shirt that was a duplicate to the one Yugi wore to school every day.

"Any time now," said the voice on the other side of his door. Though subtle, Yami couldn't help but cringe at the sprinkles of annoyance teeming from his other self's—from Yugi's voice.

Right. Yami held the bracelet tightly between his fingers before collecting the large pile of clothes randomly handed to him by the vibrant salesgirl. He quickly checked the price tag on his pants—then cursed. Already, these pants were enough to clean what little of a paycheck he had and although Yami knew he could survive on one pair of pants for the rest of his lifetime, everyone else would find it insanitary. Borrowing Yugi's clothes seemed like plausible and perfect reasoning, but he didn't want to sever what seemed to be an already stiff relationship between them.

Running a hand through his hair, Yami carefully backed away from the mirror, stealing one last glance before emerging from the dressing room. Yugi sat in the middle, playing something on his PSP and inaudibly grumbling. He was able to make out a "finally" through the other's distracted speech pattern and awkwardly stood there, ten minutes straight with fingers intertwining around his bracelet while Yugi's eyes widened enthusiastically and childishly, the boy leaned into each beep and zap that could be heard within the game. Finally, the other broke into a grin and happily cheered at some unknown victory while Yami's lips pulled into a ghost of a smile.

Though not directed at him, seeing any type of enthusiasm across Yugi's face was a relief. Yami frequently minded the store from opening to closing every day, tensing at how well or poorly he was performing to the point of actually worrying for the next day before the current one was done.

As it was, Yami woke up early in the morning in order to categorize anything and Yugi now left through the side door of the Mutou Residence. His light would return later that night, and the only other instance they truly spoke had been for at most, thirty-seven seconds and Yugi was also carrying a conversation with Anzu, leaning more for her than him.

Which never happened, Yami thought as he bit his lip. The order of confidants, even when Yami was too nervous to talk himself, was him, then Anzu, then Jonouchi or Honda (whoever came first, really), then Sugoroku and…somewhere down that list, Seto Kaiba was second to last. Despite this supposed rivalry between his aibou and the billionaire prodigy, Yugi had some strange liking to Kaiba; rarely seen and covered by a large amount of discomfort of being around the guy.

Like a donut and a donut hole. Yami unconsciously licked his lips, recalling the gooey taste of donut holes. Grandfather Sugoroku apparently had been cheating his diet in his early morning walks and once Suzuki found out the Thursday following Yami's arrival, she kindly asked that he disposed of them. Disposed of him he did, and after ten minutes of munching on delicious goodness, Yami did not have to worry about going back upstairs and facing the awkward, 'we-know-something-you-don't' glances of both father and daughter during breakfast. So indeed, Seto Kaiba was the raunchy donut hole to Yugi's life.

Once Yugi finished cheering, he stood up, quickly stretching and the smile quickly disappeared. Instead, his eyes narrowed to Yami expectantly and he gestured to the pants. "Are those what you're getting?"

"Yes."

"That can't be all you're just getting. Sharing clothes borders on creepy, you know."

"Yes…I mean, I know." Yami looked down to the ground, lightly fingering the price tag and stared at the accursed denim jeans that belonged to Yugi. He bit his lip, warily reminding himself how expensive these pants were but quite frankly, they were deemed the cheapest thing in the shop.

"Here." Yugi shoved clothes into Yami's chest and returned to his PSP, thoughts aside and cared for little.

Startled, Yami clumsily dropped what was already in his hand and stared at the new heap. "But I don't—"

"Salesgirl wants you to try these on. And don't make a mess." Yugi flashed him a scornful look and returned to what he had in his hand. "Don't expect to get the royal treatment while you're here. You're a teenager, so be responsible and pick it up."

"I…but…"

"No buts. Teenagers pick things up."

Had it not been for the irritation and depression swelling at the pit of Yami's stomach, he would have been excited that this was the first full sentence he managed to get out of the shorter boy. Instead, he was outraged and quite a bit embarrassed, too.

Yugi implied as though he were someone who could not lift a finger and—in some way, that was true; the Mutous would never trust him to lift a mop ever again—but Yami knew how to handle himself. In spite of all this, Yami dropped to the ground and collected all of the extra clothes. His pride sank and drowned to the pits of his stomach, but that had only been because he was ordered around like a peasant by Yugi—Aibou of all people!

He neatly folded the pair of Yugi's jeans (or really, as neatly as possible) and put them at the top of the pile. Slowly, Yami walked through the hall connecting both store and dressing room, falling back just a bit as he expected Yugi to follow. No avail. The other absorbed himself in some unknown game, smiles reserved only for loud, obnoxious graphics and probably would not have noticed the sudden absence even if Yami was screaming at the top of his lungs because someone decapitated him.

That being said, Yami felt himself hurt a little bit. Responsibly, he handled all of the hangers and filtered them in order by color—red-to-red, blue-to-blue, white-to-white—

"You know you're in the women's section, right?"

By an intrusion on his compulsive distraction, Yami dropped all that was in his hand—yet again—and resisted the raw cry of agony threatening to escape his lips once a hook buried itself in the crummy hole of Yugi's worn out converse and was reduced to tiny tears. He whirled around, catching sound of a high-pitched giggle before his eyes settled on a girl. She was a bit taller, not as developed as Anzu, but close enough, and had the biggest smile he'd ever seen.

"I'm uh, what?" He sputtered gently as he remembered what disrupted his air of serenity. Quickly Yami fell to the ground, hands picking up the last of his clothes and he seethed, watching his toes wiggle in the tattered shoe before collecting himself and standing erect.

"You're in the women's section," she giggled again and pointed to the other corner of the room. "That's where you belong, silly."

"Oh." Yami frowned troublesomely and looked to the clothes he'd hung from place to place that were only a measly size larger. He eyed the brand name splattered fancily across all of the shirts and suddenly felt uncomfortable under dim lights. Abercrombie & Fitch—whatever store this was and why Yugi assumed he would get some substitute pleasure out of this store—had little creativity, as far as he was concerned. He softly bit his lip, feeling a little underdressed and mortified by the fact he failed to notice "A&F" sewn obnoxiously to his left butt cheek. With a subtle whine, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Does it really matter what kind of clothes whatever sex wears?"

She giggled again, a bit redundant but very sweet. At that notion, Yami couldn't help but smile; finally able to get someone to chide with him other than the two grown adults who resided above Kame Game Shop. "Ooh, a rebel. I like you."

"Thank you," he breathed, and for some odd reason, was quite alright with spewing his personal feelings to a random stranger he didn't know. "I like you too."

Red exploded in her cheekbones. She gasped and stared at Yami like it was the first time they'd seen each other. "Really?"

Yami nodded, softly rubbing his shoulder as he realized what he was doing. As it seemed, she was a very nice lady with a lot of makeup. Unlike Anzu, who went with little to none, this girl—he checked the nametag—Midori wore very much eye shadow and what he assumed was the modern day version of kohl. That being said, she often blushed and was giggling at everything he said, funny or otherwise. With newfound confidence, he hesitantly smiled and shrugged. "You're the first person to be nice to me all day."

Truth be told, it was only eleven in the morning, but after an awkward fifteen minute bus ride to the mall with Yugi, he was willing to accept generosity from just about anyone. Midori softly squeaked, cheeks darkening once again and she awkwardly laughed. "Are you buying anything, um…?"

"Yami."

"Are you buying anything, Yami?"

"Yes," he gestured to his legs. "I would like to buy these pants."

"Oh…okay then." She shyly gestured to the cash register where they quietly walked. Occasionally, Yami caught her staring at him, but ignored it for the better part. As it was, Midori was most likely a classmate of Yugi's and wondering why there was such a resemblance. Fortunately he would not have to explain that—yet. When they finally got to the counter, her face was even darker than the many fringes of her red hair. "I'm um, going to need the price tag to…"

"To check me out?" Yami innocently smiled and watched as she reddened even more. He propped up on the counter and gestured to the flap sticking out of his back pocket.

"O…okay," she stammered quietly. "I'm also going to need to take the security tag off."

"I can do that," he confidently agreed. The noble turned to the device that removed these tags. During their time together, his aibou was a careful shopper and rarely went to the mall for clothes. When he did, there were many leather pants involved, but what fascinated the once pharaoh the most was the device that took away tags that supposedly stored ink. He smiled at it slightly, accurately pressing his bottom on the mechanism before hearing a successful click and allowing the scanner to graze his price tag.

"That was…," she stared at him, both amazed and another reaction Yami wasn't quite so sure of, then struggled with a smile. "Wow. Um…your total comes to sixty-five dollars, Yami."

Sixty…five?! His eyes never left the tall girl, faintly identifying all of her vibrant qualities—from a flurry of red hair to the plumpness of his lips. Quickly, his expression dropped and Yami emitted a tragic, devastated sigh as he limply stared at his wallet. Three days of work for hours at end weren't even enough to pay for a pair of pants. In the back of his mind, he found the Egyptian side of him gravely missing waltzing around in kilts. Altogether, they limited how many separate pieces of clothing needed to be bought and the Atemu part of him was quite comfortable. Now as Yami, though, it seemed like an anomaly. He disliked wearing kilts, but they seemed like a better option at the moment.

At the sudden ring of the register, Yami looked up again and found Midori smiling genuinely. "I'll cover you."

"You couldn't possibly do that." His eyes widened in pure surprise and he shook his head. "I would rather exchange the pants than…"

"Too late." Midori enthusiastically winked and slid the receipt into his hand. Red ran across her cheeks and she smiled. "Here's my number when you want to pay me back."

"I will pay you back, immediately." Yami nodded, relieved that it wouldn't be the last he saw of such a nice girl. After saying his goodbyes, he reluctantly picked what money he did have in his wallet, eyed the large numbers on his receipt and went to the door, where he noticed the impatient Yugi.

"You have fun wasting time and flirting with the girl?" Yugi plainly asked.

"Mm." Yami shrugged, steadily refolding the clump of borrowed pants before stuffing his wallet in the back pocket of his new jeans. Suddenly, he halted and eyed the younger teenager. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" His light nonchalantly muttered and looked away in a random direction.

"Sorry," he whispered back, suddenly remembering that unlike with the really nice girl, Yugi was hard to talk to. "What on earth is 'flirting'?"

Yugi halted for a moment, sparing the first glance in ages toward one innocent pharaoh of Egypt. His gaze lingered quietly, light orbs narrowed and Yami's new body tingled. The once pharaoh gulped, throat suddenly dry as he realized that like any teenaged boy's body, his too was also reacting. Lightly, he turned away and quietly requested for the question to be forgotten.

Yugi obligated, and after constantly hovering around the stores, Yami politely hoped the shorter understood he would rather be elsewhere than the mall after one pair of pants, but that wasn't the case. Yugi followed him silently, giving at most five-word responses to any of the once pharaoh's rare questions.

During that time, Yami had met a handful of very sweet girls who guided him in and out of stores, politely asked if he could help them find particular stores and was complimented a lot. On that note, his confidence raised a little, silently assuring him that whatever blocked his communication with his partner was not something out of his hands, but deflated with each roll of the eyes Yugi seemingly thought escaped the corner of Yami's vision.

Biting his lip, Yami pushed the seventh phone number into his empty wallet, quickly bidding the other teenager 'good-bye' after confirming he was going to be attending Domino High and followed quickly behind the irritated Yugi. He caught quick glance of the time—2:30—and realized they'd been here for most of the afternoon. They hadn't spoken to each other for most of the day, Yugi's eyes ahead of him and focused on nowhere in particular. But once analyzing further, Yami found that more of Yugi's aggravation emerged as more girls came up to the once pharaoh to exchange numbers.

At that thought, his ears turned pink and he bit his lip, prying with his eyes the essence known as Yugi Mutou. There were only a handful of females Yami could ever recall in both his lifetimes—two as Atemu and three as Yami—and the closest he knew was Rebecca kissing his aibou on the cheek. His stomach churned at that thought, a sudden wave of jealousy overwhelming him and Yami instinctively grabbed his bracelet.

Despite how little Yugi now cared for him after the ten months and fifteen da—nearly eleven months—of separation, Yami knew his feelings and if they bordered what Suzuki Mutou seemed to think they bordered, he had the awkwardly humiliating right to count the days he had. And he did. Technically speaking, seven charms split within the span of a month—thirty days per se, thirty-one at most—that would have given him roughly four days to work on each charm. If he were to find something astounding and amazing about Yugi Mutou every four days, he would gather all seven charms with two to three days to spare.

Technically speaking.

But they were now on the fourth day since Yami's arrival and so far, there was no convincing the Gods or the charm that he indeed loved Yugi Mutou. Or even convince himself, he thought warily. Red pricked his skin and he awkwardly grimaced in his trail behind his aibou. His goal wasn't to fall in love with Yugi. At first, anyway. The relationship they established before he left—what kind was it? Brother-brother? Father-son? He didn't know anymore.

Yami paused, quietly eying the Hot Topic store they'd passed for the fifth time that day and steadily looked inside where there were many clothes he normally wore thanks to his aibou. Temptation was almost far too great to ignore, but at the time, he really had no choice. Yami caught a glance of Yugi from the corner of his eye and continued after the shorter boy who seemed to be wandering aimlessly.

He stood by gently, quietly returning and unsure if the other would notice him, but thought it best to blend in. Bracelet shimmering at his wrist, Yami reminded himself that Yugi had absolutely no idea what his mission was. He was oblivious to the fact that Yami only had a month to stay at best—at least, he scolded himself—if finding seven qualities that through Yami's eyes, were the world.

And he already would have had seven things, if Yugi was more responsive and the charms were more sensitive to his thoughts. Unfortunately, neither was the case and his first attempt to get through that thick head of hair was all for naught. The second attempt--more by obligation than planned—was their hanging out together, and so far Yami knew that sand had better conversational skills than Yugi.

Third time was the charm.

"Aib—"

"Atemu."

At the sudden tone—heck, any tone in comparison to the nonchalance normally sensed in Yugi's voice—Yami eagerly halted to keep from falling over Yugi, who abruptly came to a fast stop. With a small smile, the once noble urged his light on and signaled for him to continue. "Yes, aibou?"

Yugi looked up, lovely eyes glittering with detachment to…well, anything Yami did, really. "You can go home now."

What? Yami's eyes widened and they never left the petite teenager, simply prying for a 'You're joking, right?' through the obviously not joking demeanor. Straightening himself out, Yami's fingers lingered near his wallet, were all he had left, really, were three dimes. Unfortunately that was not enough to ride the bus, and he hadn't been paying attention to what direction they'd gone from the bus stop. He went with the logical answer and shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not?" Yugi looked at him, both surprised and Yami poorly assumed irritated, before showing a frown that dipped in concern.

"I have to stay with you," Yami quietly replied. He looked down to the ground, unsure of how to look the irate teenager in the eye. Their silent dispute was only going on longer and unfortunately, dealing with many nice strangers who wanted to hang out with him faltered in comparison to the one he desperately wanted the attention of the most. "You're the only one with a phone and I have absolutely no idea how to get home."

In some kind of winded luck, Yugi must have noticed his distress, for he looked back up, surprised, before frowning and sighing. "It's going to be a few hours before we go home, Atemu. I'm hanging out with Anzu and the guys."

His eyes glistened with confusion and it was Yami's turn to look surprised, almost speechless. "And you think they would mind my staying?"

He hadn't seen any of them during his few days, always busy minding the shop. Even then, they normally appeared at the front and picked their short friend up before going off to school, but Yugi had made an insistence of going to Anzu's house himself.

Yugi stared at his toes and shifted between his feet. "They're…not exactly your type of friends."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing." Magenta gems flickered conspicuously and he shoved a five dollar bill in Yami's hand. He flipped the other teenager and lightly pushed him toward the direction of the food court. "Fine. Just go get something to eat and we'll figure this out. I suppose this one instance the guys won't mind."

Fortunately, he was still granted an inch or two of height difference from his partner, and dragged his feet while being pushed. Yami clutched the money in his hand, pit of his stomach uncomfortably swirling before obliging and being sent off to the service known as 'Taco Bell.' He stood at the end of a rather long line, eyes reading the various menu choices before shoving his hands in the new pockets of his jeans.

Not his type of friends? Jonouchi, Honda, and Anzu meant the world to him. Had it been any other people that lifted small Yugi up and grow as a person, Yami wouldn't have loved them the same. The three of them weren't replaceable, and he had hoped once it was clear who the pharaoh was and who was the teenager, those three friends had come to enjoy his company, too.

But, he thought as he shifted uncomfortably in his pants, he feared that the three of them had changed as much as his partner did. Yami bit his tongue, nervously running a hand through his hair as the line moved forward. Perhaps he was paranoid, but with each waking second he lived on earth, one Yugi Mutou proved that he needed less support and could easily take care of himself.

And Yami was proud of him. Really! He was!

But… Yami sighed, placing his order for simple nachos and apparently, "spicy chicken soft tacos", before leaning back near the cashier and recalling the days where he was simply a spirit; a loner, who helped the little boy he thought was his savior and spent every ounce of his time trying to repay the young one. It was this spice, this ferocity from Yugi Mutou that he would never have that caught Yami's attention, and now he was seeing it used against him.

His first impression of the young boy, the once pharaoh thought grimly as he thanked the flustered girl working the cashier, hadn't been a good one. By instinct, his arrogance carried on despite having no memories of being Atemu, and he refused to believe that some little brat recreated the Millennium Puzzle. Everything was lain out before him, clear and loyal as he decided on just repaying the useless child for granting him a second life and nothing more. With time, Yugi Mutou had become the medicine to all of his aches and loneliness. That smile was what made him happy to do this 'job.' That pure, innocent laugh was what made him tingle.

But Yugi stopped smiling for him. Yugi stopped laughing for him. There wasn't really a 'job' to do, and though Suzuki and his bracelet insisted there was more to their relationship, Yami was beginning to…doubt…himself.

Shaking his head, Yami tucked the change in his back pocket and decided when it was more convenient, he would give the change back to Yu—

"Oh my—"

"Yugi…am I…are we seeing things?!"

"Holy fuck!"

Yami's head shot up from the various, familiar voices and he eyed the three teenagers to have appeared next to Yugi during his absence. A reluctant smile played across his face and he sadly took note of the vibrant smile across Yugi's cheerful face when he was talking to his friends. Anzu, Jonouchi, and Honda.

"It's…it's really you!" Jonouchi gawked, immediately appearing before Yami and comically circling the once pharaoh. He poked and probed, eyes never leaving and Yami silently compared him to a bloodhound. "That's…really you, right? Oh my god, it's you, Atemu!"

"Yami," he said while involuntarily cringing. Yami's eyes drifted over to Yugi, who spared him a glance before tearing away, smile disappearing while he apparently found something more interesting in the tree most people stuck their gum in. "Please, just call me Yami."

Honda grinned, appearing next to the regal teenager, but unlike his best friend, did not pick and pry him like a piece of meat. Instead, he extended a hand which Yami obediently shook. "No way! How are you…what are you doing here, Yami?"

"It's a long story," the once pharaoh whispered, eyes following Yugi's gaze. Heart sinking at the sudden apathy, he forced a hesitant smile and shrugged before dumping the bag from Taco Bell in Jonouchi's hand. "I'll be going to school with you guys on Monday."

"Really? That's awesome! And this is awesome too!" Jonouchi happily grinned and buried his hand in the bag of goodies without second guessing Yami's decision. "So so…you hanging out with us then, Yami?"

The smile across Yami's face broadened and he slowly nodded, eyes falling to the ground. Neither of them had changed. "If you will let me."

Both exchanged looks of surprise. Honda arched an eyebrow and tucked both hands in his pockets. "Of course we would, Yami. Is there any reason why we wouldn't?"

"Besides," Jonouchi smirked and rattled an arm around Yami's neck. "You got away the first time without dueling me first. You aren't gonna get away the second time, buddy."

"We'll see about that," Yami grinned. Unfortunately for Jonouchi, Yami had yet to touch a Duel Monster's card unless he was selling it to someone else. Eventually the other duelist would distract himself in the tacos and their "sacred duel" would be put off until a later day when Yami would be able to build a new deck. After all, he warily eyed Yugi and bit his lip. His deck and everything about it had gone back to Yugi, so unless he had the nerve to confront the younger boy, he would be unable to get that deck back.

Jonouchi and Honda began chattering about nothing in particular while following Yugi and Anzu. Yami went along as well, unsure of what to do and eyed Anzu. She smiled at him and waved, but his eyes were glued on how her hand would occasionally bump into Yugi's.

"It's good to see you," she said gently.

Yami slowly nodded and gestured to her hair. "Your hair got longer."

"Yes I'm uh, growing out." Her cheeks flared and Anzu ran a hand through her hair before a giddy smile fell across her lips. She looked away and shrugged. "It helps with appeal when it comes to dancing and…people seem to like it."

Her eyes had fallen to Yugi. The once pharaoh smiled softly. "It looks nice."

She smiled back broadly. "Thank you."

Before he had another say in the matter, Jonouchi had swooped in into another conversation and it almost went unnoticeable that Yugi's hand became intertwined with Anzu's. Yami occasionally nodded to most of Jonouchi's statements, eyes never tearing away from Yugi. His bracelet gently glistened and he bit his lip. The smile across Yugi's face…something he hadn't seen in ten months and nineteen days. The last one he'd seen was right before he left and into the afterlife.

So many sensations in that one little smile, but not directed at him. But Yami had to make this work—if not for his new life with the people he knew the most, for a new life altogether. This was his last shot and if he did what Jonouchi always said—"screw things over"—then never again would he be looked at admirably. That being said, he couldn't let his emotions run wild and let his anger and frustration possess his better judgment.

And Yami definitely did not let his heart sink when Yugi's smile confidently broadened as he stood at the tips of his toes and kissed Anzu.

--

Author's Note:

Well, that's a twist. Peachshipping over Revolutionshipping. Hum hum hum, so we're three chapters in and according to Yami, he has a deadline of four days to find one of seven traits he likes about Yugi Mutou. And he's failing. Poor guy. Anyway, thanks for all of the reviews and support; can't wait to hear what you guys think about this chapter! That being said….reviews would be nice! C: