AN: I don't own Yu Gi Oh! Enjoy and thanks for reading and reviewing!

22. Keeping a Secret

Anzu was so funny. Anzu was just so smart. Anzu was so sweet. Anzu was so beautiful. Anzu was just perfect.

If Yami had to hear one more word about Ms. Anzu-fucking-wonderful he was going to go insane.

Still Yuugi prattled on about his brand new, and so perfectly terrific, girlfriend, completely oblivious to how each line, each happy sigh, and each contented giggle created another blood-oozing fissure in Yami's heart.

While Yuugi grinned and sighed happily, pausing in his love sick ramblings to gaze off to, no doubt, the imaginary image of his perfect girlfriend's perfect body, Yami grit his teeth so hard they might have cracked under the pressure.

"Sorry Yami, I know I'm just going on and on," a happy little giggle, "but I just can't get over how lucky I am." A wide, open-mouthed grin. "I mean, I'm me and Anzu's Anzu, she's just perfect!"

No, Anzu's Anzu and you're YOU. You're the perfect one, you're the one who deserves the best. You deserve better than her! She can't give you everything! She's not perfect!

"Really, who ever thought someone like Anzu would ever say yes to going out with me? She's so smart, and funny, and popular!" Another laugh. "Ha, I always thought she'd go out with someone like you!"

I turned her down last year. I don't want someone like her chasing after me. I want you. Only you.

"And it's so weird too Yami. You'll get a kick out of it; when we talk, it's like we've known each other for years! It's like we've known each other as long as you and I have! I mean, it's awesome, but weird, a good weird. Ha, kinda like you and me right?"

He wanted to scream.

No! No, it's nothing like you and me! She doesn't know you like I do. She doesn't know you at all! She doesn't know your favorite time of day is right before sunset or that you don't have a favorite color. She doesn't know your first goldfish's name was Sunny or how when he died we had a funeral for him over your toilet. She doesn't know how you only like donuts when they're the crappy day-old store brand kind because they remind you of when you were little and that was the only kind your mom ever bought. She doesn't know how you used to stay with me every time your mom and dad and grandpa went out of town and how you'd cry every night and you'd sleep in my bed so you didn't have nightmares.

She wasn't there when I convinced you to jump off a ledge and we were terrified your ankle was broken because we didn't know the difference between a sprain and a break. She wasn't there for all of the sleep-overs and the really stupid truth-or-dare games we played until the sun came up. She wasn't the one who came to every single one of your birthday parties when no body else did.

She wasn't the one who gave you your first kiss when you were twelve because you were afraid no one would ever kiss you. She doesn't know about how, when you were five and I was six, you went around telling all of our parents and their friends that you were going to marry me one day after my aunt told us you married your best friend. She doesn't know about how you poured juice over both of our laps on the first day of school when I got so scared I pissed my pants, just so I wouldn't be alone.

She's not the one who beat up the bullies for you so you wouldn't have to fight. She didn't promise to stay with you always and forever because your parents never did. She didn't stay with you the whole weekend after you had your appendix taken out, and she wasn't the one you stayed with when their tonsils were taken out.

She's doesn't know how you blush every time someone touches the nape of your neck, or how your most ticklish spot is on your third and fourth rib on your right side, or how you fall right asleep if someone scratches your head just right.

She doesn't know how you'll never leave anyone alone. She doesn't know how you'll never go back on your word, ever. She doesn't know you'd rather die than hurt someone!

She didn't hold you every time you cried! She didn't hug you all the time! She didn't share those whispers and secrets with you!

She doesn't know you! She doesn't deserve you! She'll never know how special you are!

She doesn't love you! She doesn't love you like I do!

"Shut up!"

"What?" Yuugi was watching him with alert surprise.

Yami knew he shouldn't say anything; he knew that, no matter what he said, speaking any semblance of the truth was going to only hurt him in the end. He knew no good would come out of his next words, but they still flew insistently from his mouth despite the desperate protests of his common sense.

"Just shut up about Anzu Yuugi!" He was seething. The look of shock on Yuugi's face warned him, begged him, to stop, but he barreled on down his collision course of self-destruction. "I don't want to hear anymore about how fucking perfect she is and how great you guys are together!"

"What the hell is your problem Yami?" The initial stupor had passed and now rightfully owned anger and hurt colored Yuugi's face. Although Yuugi was fixing him with a harsh, angry frown, he was still Yuugi, and he still remained silent after he had spoken, waiting patiently for Yami's answer.

Yami wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously; Yuugi was the only person who actually posed the overused exclamation as an actual question. It hurt with a throbbing ache, but it was the epitome of why he had fallen in love with his best friend.

I don't want her to have you. I want you. That's what the hell my problem is.

He said nothing.

"Damn it Yami, you're my best friend. I thought you'd be happy for me." Yuugi sounded hurt more than anything now, but his expression remained a mystery.

Yami wouldn't know what his face looked like; he couldn't bear to see it right now.

How can I be happy for you when she's so wrong for you? Can't you see that Yuugi? Can't you see she's not worth what you are?

"I'm not," he said. He knew he sounded petulant; he knew he sounded like an ass. He still didn't elaborate.

"Listen Yami," Yami winced imperceptibly at the anger, "I don't know what your problem is, and you're my best friend, but I really like Anzu." Those words alone were enough to further splinter the stinging remains of his heart. "So whenever you're ready to pull your head out from wherever it is and tell me what's wrong you know where to find me."

And with that, Yuugi stood and left Yami sitting alone under the bare branches of the sakura tree outside their school. Yami wanted to cry, wanted to scream; he did neither. Tears collected at the edges of his eyes and a noise welled up in his throat, but he pushed them down and away.

"Big boys don't cry." He'd said that to Yuugi once when he'd wiped wet streaks from his face. Yuugi had hugged him tightly afterward.

The tears came back twice as persistent, threatening to leak from the corners of his eyes.

He wondered at what he would say later; what web would he weave when he saw Yuugi next? He would apologize, maybe say something about a bad day or his parents fighting. Maybe he'd even admit to being envious in a diluted and downplayed way, let Yuugi assume it was Yuugi he was jealous of and not Anzu.

"Best friends don't keep anything from each other." Who had said that, him or Yuugi?

It was wrong. Best friends kept everything from each other.

Thanks again my beautiful, wonderful, amazing readers!