A lot of response on the last chapter. Six reviews? That's the most I've ever gotten on one chapter!

Sage: Woopdi-doo.

Would it kill you to be a little more supportive?

Sage: No, but I just can't find it in me. Someone needs to make sure you don't get cocky.

*sigh* Okay, there are some references in this chapter to the season zero. If anyone is confused about this, just PM me and I will try to explain as best I can.

Sage: Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter! OliviaGraham, Kairi, Deadpoolhulk, Mystery Agent, Sefina, and hoom!

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Solomon Motou was not expecting things to be any different that morning. He woke up at precisely six-thirty as he did every day. He put on his gray shirt and green overalls and headed downstairs to the shop, where he began to make preparations for the day. He dusted the front desk, and check the cash register. He sighed when it opened up and he counted its contents. There wasn't even enough in there to pay for the weeks groceries. He put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. He didn't want to sell the shop; it was his pride and joy. He bought the building nearly twenty years ago, after his last archeological dig. He spent many, many joyous years selling games from all over the world to customers. He never thought he'd see a day where not one single customer came in. But, lately, that was almost every day. The videogame industry boomed, and suddenly, nobody wanted to play classic games.

His eyes glanced over the analog clock hanging right above the shop door. The small hand was on the seven, and the large one was placed gently over the five. Solomon straightened up. Seven-Twenty-Five? Was it that late already? He had been up for an hour now and hadn't seen Yugi. Normally his grandson was up right at seven, and left for school half an hour later. As far as Solomon could remember, Yugi never overslept on a school day. Wondering what could be going on, he left the counter and found his way to the back stair case that lead to the apartment part of the building. He walked over down to the end of the hallway where Yugi's room was stationed. He knocked on it gently.

"Yugi?" He called. He didn't get a response. He knocked again, this time harder. "Yugi, you have to wake up. It's time for you to go to school!" Still, he was met with only silence. Solomon became anxious and opened the door. Yugi's room was empty. Solomon looked over at his bed, nicely made. It hadn't been slept in. While looking over his sheets, Solomon felt a cold chill nip him at the back of his neck. He spun around and saw the open window. There was a piece of paper on Yugi's desk, moving softly with the breeze. Solomon picked it up and read over it.

It was written out in Yugi's handwriting, but it was a little sloppy, like it was written in haste.

Grandpa,

I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I can't let myself be a burden to you

And to everyone around me. I'm sorry I never told you, but I didn't want to

Make my problems your problems, and I can't let other people fight my battles

For me. I had to leave. There was no other choice. Please, I hope you'll understand one day.

And I hope that one day I can come back. But for now, I did what I had to do.

I'm so sorry.

Yugi.

Solomon felt tears sting at the corner of his eyes. Yugi was gone? He had left? The old man felt his heart clench up inside his chest as he stepped backwards and fell onto Yugi's bed. The only question that rang inside his head was, why? Why had Yugi left? In the letter Yugi had said 'I should have told you.' What on earth was he talking about? Solomon sobbed at the thought that Yugi, his little boy, was having problems and was afraid to tell anyone. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed. He did the only thing he thought he could do. He searched through his pockets and pulled out a small, black flip-phone. His fingers were shaking, and his entire body was trembling in sorrow, but he managed to press the three necessary buttons and placed the phone up to his ear. He was shivering. He couldn't help but let his mind wander while the phone rang. Where was Yugi now? Was he in trouble? Where did he sleep? Did he have food, or money? Did-

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" The voice of a female operator came through on the line.

Solomon felt his throat close up, but he manage to sputter out, "My grandson. He's-he's runaway!"

"Okay, sir. Can you tell me your name?"

"Solomon Motou." He spat out quickly. He could feel his jaw shaking violently, like he was having a mini seizure.

"Okay, sir. I need you to tell me what happened. When was the last time you saw your grandson?"

"Last night. At dinner."

"Okay, and did he seem to be experiencing some out-of-character behavior?"

"No, no! He-he was how he always is!" The tears were flooding down his face now.

"When did you notice he was gone?"

"J-just a few moments ago! He didn't get up for school, and I thought he might've overslept," in his grief Solomon spoke rapidly, tripping over his words, "I went to go wake him up, but he wasn't in his room, and his window was wide open, and his bed! His bed hadn't been slept in! He left me a note!"

"Okay, sir." The woman said. Her voice was oddly calm and relaxed, not seeming concerned, like either she didn't care, or she heard this kind of stuff every day and it no longer affected her. "I need you to give me your address and I'll send an officer over to you right away."

Solomon nodded, even though the operator couldn't see it. He rambled out his address, but it was too hasty and the woman on the other end had to ask him to repeat it, slower. Once he finally got it out, she replied, "Alright, Mr. Motou, an officer will be there in a few moments."

"Y-Yes. Th-thank you." He sputtered out before hanging up the phone. He was still in shock. Everything seemed so surreal.

"This-this has to be a dream!" He screamed. "Yugi would never leave!" He looked down at his wrists and used his right hand to pinch his left wrist. He could feel the slight, minute sense of pain and only cried more. He felt that. That meant this wasn't a dream! "W-why? Why Y-Yugi? Why w-would y-you leave?"

Out in the distance, he could hear the wailing of the police sirens and he stayed on Yugi's bed, crying, listening for the sound of the sirens coming closer and closer, trying to piece together why his grandson would run away. The note he left was completely vague, giving him no clues whatsoever as to what could have been tormenting Yugi to the point that he felt he had to leave. The sirens were now as loud as they could get, and Solomon could see the flashing blue and red lights outside Yugi's window. He heard the doorbell ring.

He found it himself to stand up and trudge down the stairs and into the shop where he opened the door.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Mr. Motou, can you please describe your grandson to me?" The officer asked. He was a young man, maybe in his earlier twenties with short black hair and dark chocolate eyes. He was sitting on the green couch in the family room with Solomon on the adjacent loveseat. The officer, Daisuke, held in his hands a brown clipboard, and in the other a pen, ready to start writing.

"He's sixteen, about five feet,-"

"Excuse me?" Officer Daisuke interrupted. "Did you say he was five feet tall? That's really short for his age."

"The Motou family has never been blessed with height, Officer." Solomon answered, annoyed. Why did it matter that Yugi was petite? It was part of who he was, and it would be a big description. They aren't many teenagers out there at his height.

"My apologies, sir. Let's continue now."

Solomon sighed and played with his hands which were folded in his lap. "His eyes are a purple color, and his hair, it isn't easily missed. It's bigger than he is." Solomon let out a small chuckle. He remembered back to when Yugi was just a baby and was having a hard time learning to walk because his hair made him so top heavy. "It's shaped like a star, and it's black, with a red outline and blonde bangs."

Officer Daisuke wrote down all the information he was receiving. "That is very unusual. Is it natural?"

"Oddly, yes. Why?"

"Well, it's not uncommon for runaways to change their appearance. You'd be surprised the lengths they go to conceal their identities. They'll get colored contacts, haircuts and dyes. Girls will usually wear high heels and long pants to cover up their shoes."

"But, it Yugi altered his appearance in anyway, how will we find him?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Motou," Officer Daisuke assured. "Kids, especially at his age, don't think things through well. If he does indeed try to change how he looks in an attempt not to be caught, it'll take him a few days, and we'll have the word out by then. His picture will be up in the fronts of stores and cashiers will recognize him."

Solomon sighed and rubbed his eyes, which were sore and red from crying. He still wanted to cry, he still wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his bed and weep for his lost child, but he had no tears left inside of him, and he knew that he couldn't just cry. Crying wouldn't bring his grandson back, action would.

"And," Officer Daisuke continued, "who knows? None of this might be necessary. Runaways often return home in a matter of days. Yugi could be home in time for dinner tonight." He gave a small smile, in an attempt to cheer up the older man. It was returned and Daisuke felt a slight tinge of guilt. He hadn't been entirely truthful. While some runaways return home, the majority don't. The majority get lost, and are forced into gangs and human trafficking in order to survive. While it is mostly girls who are pulled into the sex trafficking, many boys get into danger as well.

"Have you contacted his school?" He sputtered out, trying to get his mind off the topic. He hadn't been in the force long, only about two years, but he already seen the horrors of the human world.

Solomon shook his head. "N-no. I haven't even thought of it."

"He might've told someone at school, a friend maybe. If we can get the word out, someone might come forward with some information."

"Okay." Solomon sighed. "Yes, I should call his school. Someone must know something."

"It's worth a try. Now, I'll be working hard on this case. I promise you, I won't rest until Yugi is safe and at home. We'll find him, Mr. Motou, I promise."

"Thank you, Officer."

Daisuke frowned. He really hated lying, but he hated filling up people with false hope even more. Truthfully, they would probably find Yugi in a few days.

The real question was, would they find him alive?

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Joey Wheeler was walking to school with his friend and partner in crime, Tristan Taylor. The brunette was an odd fellow. For someone part of the school beautification squad, he was a damn mean bully. Tristan often helped Joey out with his daily run, mostly tormenting Yugi Motou.

Joey walked casually, with his hands stuck in his pockets, staring at the ground.

"Hey, Joey!" Tristan called, trying to get his friend's attention. "I heard you gave Little Yugi quite the smack down yesterday!" He grinned devilishly. Joey smiled as he remembered what had happened yesterday. Tristan punched his shoulder playfully. "How'd it go?"

"It was hilarious." Joey said, looking up through his blonde hair. "The kid was crying before I even threw the first punch."

"Really? What the hell happened yesterday?"

"I was trying to be a good Samaritan; I was going to teach Motou how to be a man. He was playing with some toy yesterday at recess. A puzzle, I guess? Anyways, I took one of the pieces and threw it out the window, into the water around the school. He was bawling like a baby, going on about, 'My grandfather gave that to me!'." Joey spat on the ground in disgust at the memory. "I told him to stop crying, I told him to fight back and he refused! And you know what he told me when I asked him why'd he didn't do anything?"

Tristan shook his head and shrugged.

"He said, 'Violence doesn't solve anything.'. Can you believe that? It's like we're freaking kindergartens!"

"How much trouble did you get in?"

"What're you talking about?" Joey asked, looking up at Tristan quizzically.

"Well, I'm sure he told on you."

Joey snorted. "Nah. He never tells."

"Doesn't that strike you as odd?" Tristan asked.

"What do you mean?" Joey asked, enraged.

"Think about it. How long have we been picking on him?"

"Since fifth grade." Joey answered swiftly, and he stopped in his tracks for a second. Why did he remember that? How come it took no time at all for him to calculate that?

"Okay." Tristan said. "So, in five years, he has never told on us, or on anybody. He lets people bully him. He never fights back, he never tattles. Why do you think that is?"

"He's got some damn self-righteous attitude." Joey snorted.

Tristan shook his head, unconvinced. "Would a self-righteous person allow himself to be the scapegoat of the school for half a decade? Think about it. He has never told. Ever. Why?"

Joey thought about it was the Domino High School came into view. Tristan was right. Yugi never told anyone about his bullying. He never told on Joey, Tristan, on the other half dozen kids who picked on him and they all picked on him on a daily basis. It was strange that he never told anyone. It was strange that he never fought back. It was strange that he allowed himself to get beaten. None of it made sense at all.

"I don't know, Tristan." He felt a tinge of guilt, but it was quickly replaced be a sense of searing anger. "Why? You feelin' bad about all the hours you and me spent pushing him onto the wet floors?"

Tristan placed his hands up defensively. "No! No, of course not! But, I just can't help but think about it. I really, honestly wished I could've been there yesterday to help you out, but the beautification meeting ran long."

"Man!" Joey screamed, glaring at Tristan. "I can't believe I hang out with you! You know how bad it is for my image to be seen walking around with the captain of the future janitors squad?"

"Hey! At least I care about the appearance and cleanliness of our school!"

Joey snorted. "You wanna clean something? Come by my place after school!"

Tristan stopped, but Joey kept on walking. They were in the school courtyard now, along with the other six hundred members of Domino High School. It was hard to talk above the noise they were causing, but Tristan found his voice and somehow Joey heard it.

"How bad was he last night?"

Joey stopped and Tristan caught up with him. "He was already passed out when I got home."

"At four in the afternoon?"

"That ain't even close to his record."

"Joey," Tristan said with sincerity, "I've kept this secret because One: You've asked me too, and Two: It would break my heart to see CPS take you away, but you have to tell someone. He's getting worse and you know it."

"I don't need to tell anyone! I'm doing damn fine on my own!"

"Joey…"

"Just shut up! I don't want to talk about it!"

A loud bell silenced them all. Joey glared at Tristan. "I don't want to be late to homeroom." He turned around and walked towards the entrance of the school.

Tristan sighed and ran a worried hand through his hair. Joey was fuming. Tristan couldn't remember the last time he had seen him this made and upset. But, he couldn't worry about it now. He had to be in class before the attendance count; if he was marked tardy, that could destroy his school record, and he could be suspended from any more of his beautification meetings! Tristan ran inside the school and went down the necessary hallways to his homeroom, the one he shared with Joey. The tardy bell hadn't rung yet and kids were running around the room, throwing ballad up wads of paper at one another.

Tristan scanned the roomed and spotted Joey sitting at the desk in the back corner, with his head on top, his arms covering it. Tristan ran over to his friend, getting hit in the head with a paper ball. It landed on the floor at his feet. Tristan clenched his teeth and picked up the litter he turned to the person who threw it and glared.

"You dare to dirty our school with filth like this?" He clenched the paper in his hand. "Next time, aim your toss at the recycle bin!" He threw the paper back at the kid and finished his journey over to Joey. He took the seat next to his friend and leaned into him.

"Hey, man," Tristan said in a low tone. He didn't want to risk anyone overhearing this conversation. It was none of their business what Joey's life outside of school was. "I'm sorry about what I said. I shouldn't have brought it up."

Joey sighed and pulled his head up. He turned to look over at his friend, but remained silent. Tristan chewed on the inside of his cheek.

The tardy bell rang and the teacher ran inside the room, his arms full of books. The students scrambled to their seats, doing their best to pick up the mess they had just made as to avoid receiving a detention. The teacher sat at his desk and without looking up gave his directions to the class. "Talk quietly amongst yourselves, or work on homework for another class!"

Now with the background noise filling the empty space in the room, Tristan leaned in closer to Joey. "Joey, please. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Tristan." Joey mumbled. "It ain't your fault."

"It's not your fault either." Tristan assured. He reached over and patted Joey on the shoulder and smiled. "If you ever need a place to crash, remember, you're always welcome at my place."

Joey returned the smile and nodded. "Thanks, man. You're a good friend."

Tristan shrugged and raised his hands in a playful manner. "Hey, it's what I do."

Joey scoffed and rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to retort, but he was silenced by the sound of the PA system beeping. Everyone in the room became silent as they listened closely for the announcement.

Attention, students. The voice of their principal came through. I have just received a call that one of your fellow students, Yugi Motou, has run away from his home last night.

Joey froze up. The students looked around and began to chatter indistinctly about what was just said. Joey felt something in his chest clench up. Had he heard that right?

If you have any information about where he may be, or when he might have left, please come to the officer with what you know. Thank you.

There was a click indicating that the principal had hung up. Joey felt lightheaded and suddenly nauseous. The memory of yesterday quickly played over his mind, including the end part of what he had last said to Yugi. Leave and never come back.

He had said that. And apparently, Yugi had listened.

"Joey? You okay, bud? You're looking kind of green…"

Joey ignored Tristan and stood up, listening to the gossip of what people were saying about Yugi.

"It's about time he left."

"You think he's dead already?"

"Shows how much of a coward he is."

"Now whose lunch money are we gonna steal?"

Hearing all of these conversations, about a kid who had been bullied all his school life, about a kid who never fought back, or told anyone made Joey feel sick. It wasn't until now, at this very moment, that Joey felt sorry for this kid. He didn't know this kid. He didn't think anyone did. It didn't seem like he had any friends. Joey saw him every day at lunch sitting by himself under an old oak tree. It was like the last five years flashed before his eyes all in one second.

He saw himself shoving Yugi into mud. He saw himself throwing sticks and stones at Yugi, after he had said, 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.' He wanted to test that theory. He picked up all the nearby sticks and rocks he could find and threw them at Yugi. He saw himself slamming Yugi into lockers. He saw himself pick-pocketing Yugi, stealing all the lunch money he had for that week. He saw himself being a monster to this kid he didn't know. He saw himself beating Yugi up because he refused to fight back. He remembered telling him to leave and never come back.

"Seriously, Joey. Are you okay?"

Joey ignored him and raised his hand. His stomach was paining him. "Sensei? May I use the restroom?"

The teacher didn't look up, but quickly muttered, "You may, Joseph. Take a hall pass with you."

Joey ran to the front of the room and grabbed the pass of the teacher's desk. He ran down the hall and into the restroom. He ran into the nearest stall and got on his knees. He began to vomit.

He vomited until he had emptied his stomach's contents and his eyes were red. He couldn't believe it. Yugi had run away. He hadn't meant those words. They were spoken merely out of anger. But, Yugi took him seriously and he left. He left his home in the middle of the night because of some stupid words Joey had said of anger and frustration.

There was a rap on his stall door. "Joey?" Came Tristan's voice. "Are you okay? You ran out the room so fast, I didn't know what to think."

Joey breathed deep, shallow breaths. He wiped the bile of his chin with his sleeve and flushed the toilet. He shakily stood up and undid the latch on the stall door. He opened it and met with Tristan.

"Dude, you look like hell!" Tristan commented. Joey leaned against the stall and continued to breathe as he had.

"What..are they saying…about him?" He said quietly and hoarsely. His throat was burning and he needed a few moments to compose himself.

"About who?"

Joey hesitated for a moment. He met Tristan in the eye. "Yugi."

Tristan scratched the back of his head. "Not nice things."

"Like what?"

"Some people are saying it's about time. Others are placing bets on whether or not he's dead, or has been kidnapped and locked in some pervert's basement." Tristan looked down for a moment, but then his head shot back up and his eyebrows were scrunched as he stared down at his friend. "Why do you care? You've never cared about him before."

Joey breathed heavily a few times. "I think he may have left because of me."

Tristan scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What have you been smoking? Why are on Earth would Yugi running away be your fault? How are you involved in anyway?"

Joey was ashamed and his eyes cast down. "I told him to leave."

Tristan stepped back. "W-what?"

Joey looked up, tears were in his eyes. "I told him to leave! Yesterday, I told him to leave and never come back! It's all my fault, Tristan! All my fault! If he's dead, I'm the one to blame! If he is locked in some pervert's basement, I'm the one to blame! He left because I told him no one wanted him! I told him we'd all be happier if he left! It's all my fault!" He slid down the stall and landed on the tile of the bathroom floor.

"Oh, man." Tristan said, getting down to Joey's level. He placed a comforting hand on Joey's shoulder and gripped it tightly.

"I have to." He heard Joey mutter.

"You have to what, Joey?"

"I have to find him, Tristan. I have to."