Graduating college, graduating college...oh gosh, now I'll be a real big person now. X.X What's it like to not have to go to school anymore? Will I have to be boring? Get fat? Watch reality TV?

Well, review. Let me know what you think. Maybe I can just be a writer and play forever in my mind. That's mature.

Chapter 3: The First Memory

Yugi woke up to Yami's voice in his mind.

'Wake up. Slowly now, you don't want to startle her."

Startle her? He opened his eyes. At first, all he could make out was a mass of nearly white blond hair, but his heart had already picked up in speed. Curled up against his chest, with her legs lying longer than his own on his bed, she slept with her small breaths making soft puffing sounds against his neck. Warm breath bounced off his collarbone into his face. It smelt of something sweet and feminine.

Yugi thought he might die.

There's a girl in my bed, there's a girl in my bed, there's a girl in my bed! His face felt like its own sun—and it wasn't just any girl. It was a hot, cute girl all curled up to him like a small child hoping for comfort from a bad dream. He felt the heat spread from his face to the rest of his body.

Yami's voice spoke calmly within him.

'Yugi, don't freak out.'

'There's a girl in my bed—'

'Yugi—'

'What is she doing in my bed!?'

'Forget that, look up.'

Wondering what in the world could possibly make him forget the sleeping girl against his chest, he looked up, and his jaw dropped.

Where his computer once stood was a dripping staff of ice.

"What the…"

And just as quickly as he had seen it, he blinked and the staff was gone, leaving once more his innocent and somewhat dusty computer in its place.

"What the-!"

'Shh, quiet!' hissed Yami.

Too late. Yugi could hear the little puffs of her breath change as she shifted slightly. As her pale eyelashes quivered and rose, Yugi about lost it. He wasn't sure why her waking up made him panic so. Maybe it was because he would be at such a loss of what to do once those big blue eyes were looking up at him.

Yami wasn't helping.

'Calm down. It will only be a big deal if you make it so.'

The world seemed to stop turning as she pulled her head back enough to blink at his chest.

I must be dreaming. Yugi thought. A girl in my bed, my computer turning into a weird melting staff and then back again—it just has to be—

'Yugi…' said the exasperated voice of the spirit.

And there were those blue eyes looking up at him as he had feared.

Oh my…

"Uh…um…good m-morning?" he squeaked. Man, why did his voice have to squeak like that? How unmanly could you get! Wasn't it enough that he was short enough to pass for a grade student?

It only took her a second to register his presence. Then she pushed herself onto the floor, fingers to her mouth to withholding the quiet gasp of pain as her bruises and scrapes protested.

"I am so sorry! I couldn't sleep and, well, I don't know what came over me—"

Yugi glanced at his computer so he wouldn't have to face the awkwardness of looking at her. It didn't shift or move in any way.

"It's fine! Really." he said. "Just, whatever you do, don't let my grandpa hear of this. And be careful not to jostle your ankle too much."

'Yugi' said Yami, attempting to draw his attention back. 'That staff—'

'I was just dreaming, Yami.'

'No, you were not.'

Over this, she was speaking. "I swear, I won't tell him! I'm so sorry!"

But then the worst happened: Soloman Moto walked through the door.

"Good morn—" he paused, taking in the young'ns in the room. Yugi sat half nestled in blankets while the white girl was sprawled on the floor, clutching her shins. The old man frowned.

"It's not what it looks like!" cried Yugi frantically.

His grandfather blinked. "Looks like what?"

"Oh, uh…nothing."

The old man took one more look at them before chuckling. Yugi's face had yet to cool and he could feel something akin to an eye-roll from inside the puzzle.

"I only came up to say that Tea is waiting for you downstairs. She wanted to check up on our visitor here."

Looking down at the white girl, Yugi noticed she was blushing as well. It made him feel slightly better, for some reason.

"Tell her we'll be down in a minute."

The girl left with his grandfather and Yugi quickly got dressed, trying to ignore the prompts from the spirit to consider what had just happened. He was too busy trying to get the memory of how warm and…girly she had felt lying next to him like that. It wouldn't do any good to linger on it. He was, after all, below the acceptable dating height.

Yami eventually got annoyed enough to appear to Yugi outside of the millennium puzzle.

"Yugi, she's just a girl. Please focus. There is something strange going on about her. Look outside."

He did. It was raining. Pouring, even.

"Still?" he asked.

"Apparently so, despite the forecast of sunshine for the next ten days. And then that staff…."

"Well, what do you suppose we do then?"

"I'm merely concerned that you'll get too distracted by a cute face to see signs. We need both our attention on this. I think she was what I was sensing the other night."

Yugi was blushing again. He averted his face as he pulled on his duel deck and dug out a coat from the closet. Downstairs he found Tea deep in an interrogation session with the white girl, who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second.

She looked up as Yugi entered and instantly became hesitant.

"Ah, Yugi. I, um, can I talk to you?"

"Sure. That, uh, is why you came here, isn't it?"

"Yeah. If it isn't too weird, can we talk outside?"

Inwardly, he sent a raised eyebrow to Yami. Unbeknownst to them, the white girl slipped away and towards the good smell in the kitchen.

Next to the tin garbage bin Tea turned to him, clutching her hands before her so hard he could see her fingertips turn white. A thought crossed his mind that this may very well have to do with her strange behavior at the camping trip. Was she about to reveal it to him? Confide in him? He steadied himself to be ready, excited that he could finally do something about it.

She bit her lip and looked at her shoes.

"Um…is it possible to talk to Yami? The Pharaoh, I mean."

Needless to say, there was a distinct drop inside him. He felt Yami stir and prod him in concern.

'Abiou?'

'I'm fine. Um…Tea wants to speak with you.'

'What about?'

'I don't know, but I think it's about what she was upset about on the camping trip.'

Yugi's momentary silence to talk to Yami had made Tea visibly uncomfortable. She kept pulling on the ends of her skirt, which Yugi noticed was shorter than her usual.

Yami was snorting.

'I guess that proves my theory correct.'

This annoyed Yugi for some reason. His disappointment in Tea not wanting to confide in him had been enough to put him on edge. Putting his hands around his puzzle, he closed his eyes and, ready or not, Yami was pulled out and into his body, and Yugi curled up in his soul room to listen.

Tea flinched when sharp eyes and a slightly taller man gazed out on her. Her cheeks instantly reddened, making Yami smirk.

"You wanted to speak with me?"

"Uh, y-yeah. I, um, was wondering if you—oh gosh this is not working out as well as it had in my head." she clenched her hands tighter. Yugi wondered how much more her fingers could take.

"Tea, there is no need for you to be nervous. I am your friend. You can tell me anything." Yami hesitated. "Yugi and I have noticed you've been distracted of late. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything is fine, I've just been…getting the nerve to talk to you about…something."

"I'm listening."

"Well, I was wondering, if…you'd be willing to go on a date with me? I, well, for a while I've really admired you, and I really, really like you." her face was scarlet. It was very strange for Yugi to view Tea no overflowing with confidence as usual, even through a dim window in his soul room. A warm, uncomfortable pressure was squirming beneath his lungs. So Yami was right…but what was he expecting? That Tea would like him? When had he ever thought that? He had always known every girl was out of his league, friend or not. Being the shrimp of the century does that to you.

He turned away from the window in his ceiling and curled up in his bed. It smelled comforting, like fresh laundry mixed with that indefinable musk of home.

"I understand if you don't feel the same way," said Tea, "but a date can't hurt, right? Maybe it would work out."

"Tea," said Yami, the moment she took a breath, "have you thought this through?"

"Huh? Of course."

"No, you haven't. I'm dead. This is Yugi's body. Tell me, did you really expect me to take advantage of his body just so I can date you? What would happen to him?"

There was a very awkward, very pregnant pause. Yugi had frozen on his bed at these words and felt a rock forming in his throat. Yami…always thinking of him.

The usually bubbly girl who was always sure of every word she said, started to blabber.

"I didn't think—I-I didn't mean it that way—of course, I would never do that to Yugi—"

"Of course you wouldn't." Yami bowed his head apologetically. "Shall we forget this ever happened and move on with our day?"

Yugi turned around anxiously. Tea had her head bowed and her hair had swung forward to hide her expression. He reached out to feel for Yami's emotions and found them cool, collect, but rather annoyed. He hoped that wasn't showing on his face. This was hard enough for Tea as it was.

Tea's head dropped an inch. "At least answer me this, then."

"Yes?"

She peered out through her hair. "Do you have…any feelings for me?"

Yami blinked, and that was all. "No. I only feel friendship for you."

At this, Yugi knew Tea was a just a breath away from crying.

'Switch with me. Please.'

His other half did so without a complaint. Finding himself squished into his body once more was disorienting, but he instantly reached out his hands for Tea.

"Tea! Are you okay?"

She looked up. Sure enough, there were tears pouring down her face. Inwardly, he send a disapproving wave to Yami, who responded in turn with annoyed nonchalance. According to Yami, Tea had been thoughtless and careless to his Abiou in even thinking of making such a request of him. Yugi also sensed that it also frustrated the Pharaoh, in some way, to be reminded of his deathly state.

Yugi scrambled for words to comfort her.

"It's going to be all right." and feigning that he hadn't heard the whole thing, thinking it would make it easier, he said, "Did Yami upset you? What did he say?"

"Nothing." she said. "I…I think I'll go home now."

"Oh. All right. If that's what you need right now. Just know I'm here if you need anything, kay? Just to talk or for ice cream or…whatever."

She gave him a small, watery smile. "Oh, Yugi, you'd make the perfect gay friend, you know that?"

He didn't know what to say to that. He heard Yami growl, however.

'Why is that girl being so thoughtless of late?'

Yugi ignored him. He might as well be gay. "Not sure what to say to that." he said, trying to smile as though at a joke.

"I guess I'll see you around." Then a thought seemed to strike her and she hurriedly whipped off the tears from her face. "One last thing. We need to find out that girls name. I did a missing children search for her last night and found no one. Even if she was in her twenties I should have at least found something about her missing, but nothing. No petite, white-haired, blue-eyed girls."

"Yeah. We think there's something up too. I think," but then he changed his mind. The ice staff this morning in his room could have been anything. "Get lots of rest, Tea. I'll work on helping her to remember something."

"I will. Thanks, Yugi. And…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm just…sorry. I don't really want to explain."

"Oh…okay then."

And with that, she turned and practically fled.

Yugi didn't go back inside. Instead he called out Yami with a disapproving frown.

"Did you have to be so harsh?" he snapped.

"Why are you questioning the way I do my personal matters?"

"Because she's my friend!"

"And I was just reminding her of that."

"But, Yami—"

"How would you have preferred I responded, abiou?"

This threw him off, and Yugi gaped at him for a moment.

"Just said no!" he spluttered. "Why did you have to lecture her like that?"

Yami gave him one of his 'looks.' The one's he usually reserved for pitiful enemies he was trying to get through to. "Do you want your friend to continue to skim over your well-being?"

"But—uh, well, no."

"Then I've made my point."

"But, kah, she's crying!"

"As Joey says, 'she will live.'"

Sensing his defeat, he allowed Yami to slink away into the millennium puzzle as he opened the game shop in frustration.

Inside he found his grandfather explaining how to use the till to the rather self-conscious pale girl. They looked up as he came in.

"Where's Tea?" his grandfather asked.

"She went home." he said, restraining a sigh.

The white-haired girl said nothing, though she gave him a curious look before poking at the till. It made a loud chime and the door shot open, making her jump.

And then, suddenly, there were a set of manacles, chain and everything. The till was gone.

Solomon shouted. Yugi did plenty of staring, and Yami appeared out of the puzzle at all the commotion.

The girl, however, picked them up. She fingered the muggy colored metal.

"My…my till." chocked Soloman.

Yugi numbly took the chains from her. "I think they're made out of brass. They look very used, though."

"Brass…" she whispered.

Then, suddenly, there was a till again. Yugi staggered underneath the sudden weight. His grandfather cried out, but didn't reach him in time for Yugi to collapse in an explosion of paper bills and coins.

Yami, for once, didn't have his eyes on Yugi. He was staring at the nameless girl, who had looked up and met his gaze head on. Her lips curved into a confused frown.

"My…name?" she asked, as though thinking he knew.

And somehow, miraculously and wondrously, he did.

"Aleah?"

! #$# $^%^(*&^%$# $%^&*(^%$#

The Pharaoh didn't know what to think of the pale girl shuffling about his chamber with her white head bowed. She made not a sound except for the crackle of the brass chains against the floor as she carefully polished ornaments, walls, floors, and organized the large bed. Now and then his eyes would fall on the bandages wrapped about her arms and legs and he'd grimace. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to send her to the servant quarters with the rest of the slaves. While slaves were well treated in the palace comparatively to the rest of the world, the overseers and masters were far from forgiving when one didn't follow or snap to their orders quickly enough. But it was only because she couldn't understand Egyptian. And with that thought, Atem tried to force down a twinge of guilt. So far he had failed to find another of her tongue. That left only him that could understand her, and in turn, her him.

Thus, here she was, his personal slave as shown by the brass cuffs and following chains about her ankles. For the past week she had yet to speak a word to him, and the king almost feared her voice had been beaten out of her completely by the whips and fists. Or even worse, it could be her hate towards him that stopped her mouth. Somehow, that bothered him more.

"Your name is Aleah, correct?" He oddly loved saying the name because of the feel the foreign consonants had on his tongue.

She picked up her head from the side of his white, linen sheets to give him a baleful stare. Such blue eyes, lighter and brighter than Set's ever could be…he shifted uneasily.

"Why do you still refuse to speak to me? Have you forgotten your words in such a short time?"

In answer, she looked back down at his pillows, rearranging them perfectly for the third time. He didn't know how long he could take this.

"Aleah, come here."

Dutifully, she left the pristine bed and shuffled towards him, threatening to trip over her chains more than once before kneeling at his feet. She took her face to the smooth, granite floor. It made his stomach sink even more.

"No…no, please rise. I just wanted to talk to you."

She rose. But her eyes were empty and emotionless as they stared unseeingly at his chest. He dared to touch her face and lift it to him, but she refused to meet his eyes. What if she did hate him? Well, so what? Perhaps she sought an apology—something he could not give. But what should he say to draw out her words? What had happened to make her so still and cold?

Looking at her strange, exotic blue eyes and her peculiar thick mane of platinum blond hair, her words on that first night rang through his head:

'I must have gone to the ancient past. But this can't be real, this place just can't be real! How did I get here?'

Could it be possible that she was telling the truth? Set and Isis had both sworn to her honesty, having tested the waters of her mind with their millennium items, but still he could not grasp it. In fact, he had been so bemused and enraged by her determination to tell him such ridiculous lies that he had thrown her to the side as a servant to be dealt with by others. He figured that her language was of some Grecian dialect and had presumed someone would eventually understand her. But, even if she were from a land so foreign she wouldn't know of Egypt, adaptation to another language and culture would be hard. Forget about the future. And then he realized just as solidly as when she had accidentally fled into his chambers, bleeding, torn and scared for her life, just how alone she really was.

Pressing his lips tight and furrowing his brow, he reached within his belt and took out a small, brass key. Her eyes didn't even flicker to it, such was her defeated state. She flinched as his fingers touched along her ankle and put the key to the cuff.

Click.

Then, very carefully, he took the key to the other cuff, his eyes watching her intently. Her face had pinken slightly from the sun, and yet her face somehow reminded him of the moon, with round cheeks and a petite mouth like an orchid. Did he know what he was doing, unlocking her chains? Would he regret this?

Hardening his resolved, he found the other cuff and unlocked it as well. Click. He gently felt the blistering skin that had been beneath it. She was so fragile, with her skin so easily wounded.

He pulled the brass chains to the side."There, that should make it easier for you."

As he straightened, her eyes found his, questioning, wary, and suspicious.

"Now, should you decide to run—"

"I won't."

In a flash there was fire in her eyes that he had never expected. He almost flinched at the intensity in which she stared him down, suddenly defiant and enraged as though the unlocking of her chains unleashed her words.

"Why do you say that so quickly?"

"Don't get me wrong, Pharaoh, I want to, but at this rate, with how much I know, running would only mean death for me." Her eyes, so blue, seemed so much like ice right then. "What will you take to give me lessons in Egyptian?"

For the first time that week a speck of indignation rose within his chest. How dare this slave make such open requests, near demands, to him? Son of Horus, God Pharaoh, and king of the greatest kingdom? But then again, he had been the one to bring her down to this state of slave. By her still tender feet and hands and her pale skin she might have very well been a noblewomen in her own country. Using that as a deterrent for his anger, he calmed and debated his answer. He couldn't allow another to teach her, for that would require the lending of his millennium puzzle. In the least, he owed it to her. She wouldn't be so dependent on him once she simply learned the language. And yet, did he want her to be more independent of him?

That thought annoyed him. Of course he did.

"What could a girl like you, with nothing, offer to me that I do not already have?"

"Knowledge, your highness. I know of sciences and mathematics that your people have yet to dream of."

The Pharaoh rolled his eyes. "I doubt it."

She bit her lip, the fire in her eyes dimming in uncertainty. She knew he didn't believe her about the whole future delusion. He felt oddly triumphant. Right as he was opening his mouth to tell her to get back to work, she came up with another offer.

"I guess, all I have left is my body…?"

Heat rushed from the top of his head to his feet and back again, and he fought to control the blush that rose to his face. Angered at his unprecedented reaction, he shook his head furiously, both to deny her and to shake off the sudden enticing images in his head.

"Gods, no, if I wanted a bedmate I would have gotten me a wife by now." Before she could question him on this—as everyone did, damn them all and their moronic nosiness—he pushed in, "How about we play a game?"

She perked. Atem figured she thought anything was better than becoming the king's whore.

"What kind a game?"

He smiled. "Oh, not anything too serious. Just a mock shadow game. If you can survive ten minutes against me, I'll teach you what you seek."

She did not return his smile. "A shadow game…I don't like the sounds of that, your majesty."

"Wise girl, you shouldn't. Especially if it were a real shadow game."

"And what if I lose?"

He felt his smile turning into a satisfied smirk. "Then we'll see to a change in your wardrobe that is more, shall I say, tasteful."

The girl looked down at her simple, white dress and Atem could hear her wondering why the risk would be so low, and then it clicked in her head. He loved the outraged expression she shot at him.

"You wouldn't—"

"And you'll go back to the kitchens." he added. "And I am Pharaoh, mind you. There is nothing I could and would not do."

His last term had been much more threatening than the clothes. He wasn't as cruel as to dress her up as a whore and then throw her back into the servants' quarters. The girl would be raped and killed before she could blink. But seeing the array of emotions spread across her face over a week of cold, aloof stoniness and silence was somehow exhilarating. He had just wanted the thrill of seeing her rage. Inwardly, he mused at this new bout of mischievousness and wondered what Set would think of all this.

Yet, in the back of his mind, he questioned whether his second term was as harmless as he obliviously was trying to convince himself of. He once more eyed her bandages and remembered the beaten, bloody girl trying to hide herself away into a corner. Silently, he cursed himself. What made him put that up as a term?

But she nodded in agreement.

"Done."

And once more finding himself beneath the flame of her determined fire, Atem was hit with the reality that she most likely did hate him—and hated him very much indeed. And again he wondered why it disturbed him so much.

#$%*(*&^%$#$ $%&^*(&^%$#%^&*(

Kaiba had just finished his second coffee for the day when his personal cell rang. There better be a mass system crash or the apocalypse, he thought in annoyance as he pulled it out and answered the call. He adjusted himself against the wall of his personal refreshments area.

"What?"

"Uh, sir, the, um…mainframe number three has been replaced by a sarcophagus."

Kaiba froze. Had he heard right? Of course he had. Anger bubbled in his throat. What foolish game were these idiots playing at?

"Excuse me?"

"A sarcophagus, sir. Those Egyptian coffins—"

"I know what that is." he snapped. "Who is this?"

"Saui Hikari, sir. Your third manager." said the voice nervously. "We're not quite sure what is going on and we think it might be a prank."

"And what do you expect me to do about it?"

"Well, um, we were wondering if you would have any idea how this came to be. I mean, it takes some elaborate prank to get an actual sarcophagus in the place of a two hundred pound computer tower. There's a mummy in there and everything."

In the background on the man's end he could hear the chatter of confused voices. Kaiba sighed in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep his temper under control. It was probably a malfunction in some holographic device somewhere and the morons couldn't tell the difference between a hologram and the real thing. A compliment to his genius on one part, a complete annoyance on the other. He might as well go down and figure out just what the hell was going on.

The voices in the background suddenly rose in shouts of surprise. Kaiba stared at the earpiece before demanding what it was about.

"Sir, you won't believe it! The mainframe just reappeared like that! The sarcophagus is gone! What is going on…?"

The magic question of the day. The tall young man growled into the phone.

"It sounds like your problem is solved. Now please don't call me again unless it's a real problem."

"O-o-of course, Mr. Kaiba. Please excuse me…it was just all so strange!"

"I'm sure it is." And he hung up without bothering to say good-bye. Taking a deep breath and pinching his nose again to ride down his ire, Seto pushed off the wall and went to the counter to start up another cup of coffee. He was going to need all he could get that day.

"They better not call me about their wastebaskets turning into pyramids."