"I am a thief and a stealer of souls, and I have done terrible things in my quest to possess the Millennium Items. Now, I have the chance to acquire two more." He looked at the two sitting across the table from him. "That is, of course, assuming that you would like to continue the game and not forfeit, for if you were to forfeit the match, your friends' souls would become a permanent part of my collection. If you lose, however, your souls will become a part of my game as well, leaving your bodies comatose and your Millennium Items unguarded."

Seto couldn't seem to shake the words of the Evil Spirit out of his mind. Zorc. Why did that name sound familiar? It shouldn't, since he'd never heard it before in his entire life. He could feel Seth stirring in the back of his mind—which was a disturbing sensation in and of itself—as the spirit wished to explain things to him.

I can tell you why—

No! Seto shouted at him mentally. That's enough out of you. You're just an auditory hallucination induced by stress. I shouldn't even be acknowledging you.

Denial doesn't change reality, Seth retorted gravely. It doesn't matter how many times you tell those good people that you're fine, it doesn't change the fact that you're a mess.

Shut up! It was all Seto could do to refrain from speaking the words aloud, he thought them with such vehemence.

"Seto, are you alright?" Mokuba asked, making Seto look to his side where Mokuba also sat on the step. "You're really quiet, and you look kind of angry." Seto forced his face to relax, even though it was the least genuine expression he could have worn at the moment.

"Yes, I'm alright Mokuba. Don't worry about me," he answered smiling at his brother. Amane was on Mokuba's other side, and Seto only just now realized that they were holding hands as they neared the ends of their popsicles. The sight made Seto's anger ebb a bit, and it made his smile a bit more sincere, even as it saddened him. It reminded him that Mokuba was growing up, that he was nearing puberty, and that Seto was basically the only dependable father-figure Mokuba had.

It made Seto feel old to think about raising his brother as if he were his son. Even so, Seto's feelings for Mokuba were already more paternal than fraternal. He was growing up much too fast, both of them were. And Seto was already losing Mokuba to a girl. Seto didn't have the luxury of romance, and quite frankly, romance was the last thing on his mind these days. He'd lost all taste for such a thing not long after he'd been forced into his current line of "work." He was disillusioned with the entire idea of relationships and marriage and love. It was only those incredibly rare moments when he saw a couple that was just right for each other—like Ryou's parents—that made him doubt for just a moment his perspective. But when the moment passed, so did the doubt, and his cynicism was as strong as ever.

"You two should go inside and wash up," Seto said, noting that the children were finished with their frozen treats, but their hands and faces were all sticky with the melted syrup. They obeyed, and Seto stayed outside for a few more minutes, just watching the late afternoon sky turn orange and gold with the impending sunset.

Seth looked down at the game-board, his expression gentling as he made eye contact with Seto. "Hello, Seto."

"You!" Seto said accusatorily. The voice was similar to his, but not the same. It was the voice from his dream, the one who had called him "child" and "son."

"Yes, Seto, it's me. I suppose I owe you an explanation, but we have more pressing matters at hand." He looked up at their opponent, his eyes appraising the threat he truly posed to them.

"I still don't get it. Who are these people?" Anzu asked, looking perplexed.

"I think he's from the Millennium Puzzle," Yugi answered thoughtfully as he gazed up at his mirror self. "Ever since I solved it, every time I duel or game I feel like there's a voice guiding me."

"So can we trust these guys?" Joey asked dubiously.

Seto stared up at his other self uncertainly, and he simply stared back, lifting one eyebrow at him.

"Well, Seto, do you trust me?"

"I don't even know your name."

"Seth." He tilted his head in a gesture that was both proud and archaic. "My name is Seth."

Unbidden, memories from the Monster World game came to his mind, and Seto frowned to himself.

THAT wasn't a hallucination induced by stress, was it Seto? Seth sounded so smug it made Seto angry all over again.

Leave me alone! He yelled at the spirit. Can't I just have one moment of peace and quiet? Is that really too much to ask for?! Seto rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands, closing his eyes as he willed the voice away. Instead of going away, though, Seth pulled Seto into a vision where they could talk face to face and have a proper discussion. It felt like they were standing in that same shadowy void where they'd met twice before, except this time, they could actually see each other.

"How did you—?!" Seto exclaimed, startled, turning a pair of mistrustful blue eyes on the ancient pharaoh. Only then did Seth realize that Seto was agitated enough by recent events that he might just lash out in violence against Seth if he was pushed even just a little bit.

"Our souls are joined inseparably, Seto," Seth answered smoothly, keeping his distance from the teen as he fought the urge to embrace his poor, damaged soul. "It is easy for us to meet in my soul room."

"I don't want to be joined to you!" Seto shouted. "I've had enough of this, all of it! I'm done with the Shadow Magic and the ancient spirits and the Millennium Items! I just want my life to go back to the way it was before!" His face was growing livid as he yelled at Seth, who stood like stone against the verbal assault.

"No you don't," he retorted quietly. "You hated your life the way it was before, and you hate your life now. It wouldn't make any difference to you if it were to change back, except now, with me here, we have a chance to make things better."

Seto was only enraged by Seth's cool, quiet words. "You don't know anything about me!" He hadn't yet grasped and accepted the nature of their mind-link. He didn't understand that Seth knew everything about him. "You don't know anything about my life or all the shit that I've had to put up with!" He was screaming now, hands balled into fists at his sides as he stepped closer to Seth, so angry and upset that tears sprang to his eyes. "You don't have any idea what I've had to do just to survive!"

Seth reached out to Seto, his face tense as he restrained his own temper. Seto was just a scared child in pain, he reminded himself. He tried to embrace Seto, but the teen batted his arms away, screaming, "Don't touch me! I'm sick of people touching me! I'm not a toy or a thing, I'm a person! I matter too…" As Seto choked himself with a sob, Seth finally managed to put his arms around him and pull him close.

"I just want to hold you, Seto. It's been so long since anybody's just held you," he whispered sadly. "Trust me, I understand how you feel."

"No, you don't," Seto protested, still blinded by a strong rage that had been growing in him for so long without an outlet or release. It was exploding from him now, the pressure too great for him to control it any longer. He battered his fists against Seth's chest, but the former pharaoh stoically withstood the attack. "Nobody understands what I've been through! Nobody understands what I do!" As sobs overtook him, his blows to Seth's chest grew weak and feeble until all he could do was cry as Seth caressed Seto's head tenderly and pulled him in close, tears falling down his own cheeks.

"It's okay to cry, Seto," he murmured. "It's alright to mourn when you've lost so much."

"I'm not crying!" Seto shouted stubbornly, even as his tears wet Seth's priestly robes. "I don't cry. I haven't cried since…"

"Since your mother died, I know, Seto. I know."

"You don't! You don't know…"

"Yes, I do, Seto. My father abandoned my mother and I when I was just a child." Seto's tears grew quieter, intrigued despite his grief. "My mother had to raise me alone. She did what she had to do to provide for me, just like you do what's necessary to provide for Mokuba." Seth swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. "She did exactly what you do in order to provide for me so that I could rise up out of those circumstances and find something better. She died before she could see what I'd made of myself. So yes, I understand what it's like. I watched her pain and shame for years, feeling guilty because I knew that she was doing it for my sake. She died before I could even repay her for it." Seth hugged the teen tightly, as if he could erase his past and his pain with just a touch. Seto felt his arms burning into him, but he soon forced himself to relax and accept the hug, burying his face into Seth's shoulder, ashamed of his own tears. "I promise you, Seto, that you won't have to sell your body for one more night. Never again. I won't let anyone hurt you like that ever again." It was a comfort to simply hold each other and cry for a little while longer."Why did you call me 'son' before?" Seto at last asked in a whisper. "I'm not your son."

"Because you are a piece of my own soul, and that is what makes you more precious to me than my own child. Yet, you are descended from me, so you are still my child, in a sense. Would you be offended if I continued to call you 'son'?"

A pause, then a soft, muffled, "No, I wouldn't be offended."

Seth smiled.

As dusk drew on, Ryou decided to check on Seto. When he went to the back porch carrying two mugs of chamomile tea, he found Seto just sitting there, head in his hands. It was only when he was beside him that Ryou noticed that Seto had been crying. He set down one mug so that he could tap Seto on the shoulder, making the brunette jerk upright as he was pulled out of his reverie. He quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, but Ryou smiled understandingly.

"It's okay to cry, Seto. You've been through a lot." He held out the mug of tea to his friend, who accepted it with unsteady hands. "I'm guessing you haven't cried in a long time."

Seto nodded, looking down into his tea.

"Marik lost his mother, too," Ryou said, taking a sip of his own tea before he continued. "She died when he was born, so he never knew her. He and his siblings were raised in a tomb underground. Their father was abusive and they were forbidden from leaving their home or ever going above ground. My father's expedition found them and freed them from their father. Marik was terribly sick at the time, but because they were found, he was able to get the treatment he needed, and that's why he's so happy all the time. The fact that he's alive is a miracle. Just to stay alive, that's enough for him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"To remind you of the big picture, that you're not alone." Ryou's voice was as gentle and unreasonably wise as ever.

Author Notes: Four "Hamilton" references in one chapter?! Booyah! On the flip-side, argh, I wanted to put so much more in this chapter, but then I realized that I'd end up with a 4k word chapter, and that's just way too long, so I had to cut it short. I feel like the story is moving so slowly right now. Why did I give myself so many characters to deal with?! Fun Fact: The first sentence of this chapter is a quote from Yami Bakura from Season One Episode 13 of the anime.

Anyways, what did you like about this chapter? What didn't you like? Can you identify all four "Hamilton" references? Please tell me in a review, because more reviews = more chapters!