Atemu Fanfiction

Title: False Accusation
Author: Shadowesque13
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Mystery/Horror
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is © Kazuki Takahashi. Any books, movies, television shows, etc. mentioned belong to their respective owners.

"Yugi! Wait!" Yami warned him and Yugi stopped, startled.
"What is it, Yami? What do you see?"
Yami, appearing beside him, pointed downward. "Look here. Where you’re about to step."
Yugi put his foot back down and crouched, looking at specs and particles of what seemed to be…was that dirt? He ran a finger across the bottom portion of it and held it up to his face.
"It’s dirt. Like mud." He stood up and examined this area. It wasn’t just this, there was another one, the same size and shape, leading inward, and another, farther and father inside. These weren’t random.
"These are…" Yugi gulped. "These must be footprints."
Yami nodded. "Yes, I concur. But…" He paused, looking them over and face showing a very worried emotion. "The patterns on the bottom of the shoes, the size…"
"What?" Yugi looked at them again. "What do you…" His eyes widened and he shakily raised his foot again, ready to test the hypothesis that he figured Yami was getting at. He slowly, almost pulling away, set his foot he was going to use to step in on top of the first muddied footprint.
It was a perfect match. 100 fit. Yugi jumped away as he stared from his own foot to the print, back and forth and back again. He quickly slipped off his right sneaker and examined the sole, and the patterns on the bottom, and the layer of mud that had dried and began to crumple to the touch. He slipped it back on and looked at the prints again. The backpack slipped down his back; he threw it off beside the door, it was getting in the way anyway.
Yami stared at him. "This can’t mean…what we think this means, can it…?"

Yugi was unable to say anything even though he completely agreed with Yami. He stood up and stumbled backwards. He no longer cared about the ‘perfect’ day, it could be a blizzard right now and he wouldn’t notice, much less care. He tripped and fell, but that didn’t stop him.
He crawled back wards, trying to get as far away from this obviously false, distorted ‘truth’. Yami hadn’t moved, but watched him with jaw slack and eyes unbelieving. Yugi glanced at him for the briefest of moments before, faster than anything, turned around on his knees and scrambled onto his feet and ran. He ran into the gate, grabbing and shaking it, before remembering that it was still locked.
He didn’t even spend the time to give it a good whack in frustration, he just scaled it like it was a hill in a backyard. He was up and over in no time flat and ran in a random direction, just as long as it was very far away from the scene, which happened to be to his right.
Yami looked at the prints again, but was soon back with Yugi who wasn’t paying any attention to anything around him. He concentrated on his heart, beating overtime, and his gasping breath that was burning his lungs. They had no idea how far he ran was, but he fell to the ground, literally, flat on his face, legs given out and unable to catch his breath while running. His cheek hit pavement, so he knew where he wasn’t. When he opened his eyes for the first time in what may have been 10 minutes, he saw a few cars going by, but it was rather void of living beings around him. He was, of course, still in the city, since there were familiar skyscrapers that he recognized and a few other buildings and structures that gave his location away.
He did a push-up like move and wobbled on his feet. He just needed to get away from everything. He managed to find a deserted looking spot with soft, cool grass and a small tree to help shade and hide him. He laid himself on his back and panted, staring up at nothing in particular. Did what he think he saw really what he just saw? Were those muddy footprints his? Was he…the murderer?
This is insane, he gasped in his head. If I’m not, THAT is. He directed his next thoughts at Yami. We all know I didn’t do it, right?

Yami nodded. "Of course."
Then what was that?
"Your footprints," confirmed Yami. "Dried mud. And they weren’t there the last time we were there." He looked at Yugi, pupils contracting in a mix of wild emotions. "You know what this means, right? You know what this is telling us?"
"I didn’t do it!" cried Yugi, though his voice was horse and hardly there. "You know that! I know that! And those didn’t come from last night."
"Wait, where exactly did you run last night anyway?"
"What, you don’t know?"
"I was far more concerned with you than where you went!"
Yugi blinked a few times. "I…I wasn’t really looking… I had my eyes closed. I was just running, you now?" He tried to dispel any possible accusation. "But I know I didn’t climb any gate! Any fence!"
"Yugi, I know you didn’t do it! It’s just everyone else we’ll have to convince."
Yugi started to panic even more. "Everyone else? Nobody but grandpa and Téa know anything! What are you getting at?"
Yami pointed out something. "You kind of left the doors wide open. With your footprints visible. And your backpack sitting right beside them."
Yugi stopped breathing for a moment. "Oh, god, you’re right. I have to get back there. I have to get back there NOW."
Yugi tried to rise from his position, but failed. Maybe I should go out running more, he noted sarcastically to himself as he tried again. He was shakily up on his feet and began to walk back. He soon made himself go into a jog, but that was the best he could muster. The breeze and the smells it carried no longer comforted him.
To him, they brought to him the scent of panic, of danger, of confusion. This can’t be happening, he said to Yami. Please tell me we didn’t see MY footprints going into the mansion.

Yami’s confounded violet eyes looked at him. He needn’t say anything as his look was enough for Yugi. He managed to get himself to speak, however.
"It would appear so, yes. But we know that can’t be, can it?"
"I don’t know," he whispered. "I just don’t know anymore."
He reached the gate again after an excruciatingly long bout of silence and jogging. The doors were still open and his backpack lay unmoved beside the opening. He prayed that nobody saw this, or even that nobody followed him. He grasped the bars of the gate like handles and sank to his knees.
"Please…" he said, panting. "How could I possibly have done it? I didn’t…" He shook his head.
"Maybe," speculated Yami, "you did come here last night. When you were running."
"Gate’s locked," muttered Yugi. "I didn’t."
"Maybe the killer unlocks the gate to get in, I don’t know!" Yami was becoming frustrated. "Maybe you’re just keeping things from me!" He immediately wished he could stuff the words back own his throat. But it was too late now, he’d just have to go with it and apologize later.
"What are you insinuating?" Yugi yelled suspiciously.
"I think you know!"
"I can’t…" Yugi gave a shake of his head and an astounded, tired, chuckle. "I can’t believe this. I can’t keep anything from you! I never have, you know that! It’s practically impossible!" He inwardly cursed this whole day to hell. "And you know I didn’t do it! Heck, we’re inseparable by spirit, we know each other’s thoughts, I doubt that I went off and murdered someone right under your nose!"
Yami brought up a valid point that made Yugi think. "Maybe when I fall asleep at night you take the Puzzle off! You put it back on when you’re finished and I’m none the wiser when I wake up." He crossed his arms defiantly. "You normally take it off at night anyway. Unless you forget, fall asleep with it on, want to talk to me or something like that."

Yugi had no response at first. He glared at the figure before him, then glanced at the ground and back up at the mansion. This couldn’t be happening to him. Someone had set him up, and set him up well. And now he’s a suspect, which pitted his own trusted ancient spirit against him.
Yami sighed, ashamed of what he ad said and what he was accusing Yugi of. He placed a hand on his shoulder and said lightly, softly, "Look, I’m sorry, Yugi. I didn’t really…. I couldn’t ever believe that. I didn’t want to say that. I know, I’m absolutely sure right now that you’re innocent and were just set up."
He nodded to the gate. "What do you say we get back to the other side and check it out again?"
Yugi stood up. "At least to get my backpack back. I need it for school!" The humor fell flat on deaf ears, as nothing anyone could joke about could lift the seriousness of the situation in front of them. The two kept chatting about possibilities and option.
"Okay, so what if someone did see? Or does see?"
"Well," replied Yami after some thought. "If you mean the police maybe getting involved, the evidence it pretty damning, wouldn’t you say?"
Yugi shrugged. "But it’s just footprints. There might be someone with my shoe size and my style of shoes around here doing this."
Yami nodded slightly but said, "Yes, but I mean more than that. Listen. Remember the hair? You do have some blonde hair yourself, you know." He then counted off the rest on his fingers. "You were at Bakura’s locker, then his schoolbook goes missing and is found up at the mansion by you."
"Bakura will back me up, I’m sure of it."
Another nod came from Yami. "Perhaps. Then there’s the matter of the picture and who we assume to be Mokuba’s letter."
"Well that’s better than some footprints, isn’t it? I mean, they can’t really prove those are mine."
"But we still don’t know if he really wrote it. We’ve never seen his handwriting. Maybe somebody was trying to copy it. It’s possible." He stopped walking.
"They’re going to think it was you, Yugi."

Yugi stopped walking, too, and stared straight ahead, yet unseeing. He kept himself from shouting a rather nasty curse out loud, but he screamed it in his head. After the initial shock wore off, he found his voice.
"Oh…god, no, you’re so right…" He spun around to face Yami. "No, no, we’ve got to clean up the mess before anyone does anything!" He found his 2nd (or was it his 3rd, perhaps?) wind and sprinted up to the towering mansion.
Yami followed. Yugi went up to his backpack and grabbed it, pulling it away from the crime scene. The two examined the footprints of dirt. Yugi shrugged. "It looks pretty well in there. And it’s not like we can haul a vacuum over here."
"Here, take a little of the dirt as a clue."
Yugi did so, scraping some clumps of dirt from the first print and tossing them into a bag. "Maybe, since obviously there are maids who work here, there’s a vacuum we can use or some carpet shampoo or whatever that stuff is around here."
Yami wasn’t sure he could advise Yugi to do anything. A thought crossed his mind then. Before he could voice it, Yugi already came up with a response.
"Of course we’ll come back tomorrow. Hey, maybe even tonight. It’s not me. I want to catch whoever’s been doing this to us. Maybe next it’ll be grandpa as a suspect. Then Téa. Maybe even Kaiba himself. I’ll believe them. I’ll follow them. I’ll incriminate everyone until I know."
"Yugi," said Yami as his smaller form stood up. "I agree we should come back. But that’s not true, what you just said. I really don’t appreciate all of the snarky, sarcastic remarks I’m hearing."
"Then deal with it. I’m not in the mood, if you can’t happen to tell." He peeked inside, wondering if there was anything else odd to note about the room, then closed both or the doors. He started to resent the perfect weather of the day.
But then he decided that if it was dark and gloomy, reflecting his mood, that would only worsen the day. Heh, it’d make some nice dramatic effect, though, he sneered, adding more dark humor to his thoughts.

He arrived home, still going through panicky thoughts of worst-case scenarios in his head, still depressed, still angry. He opened the door and closed it again once he was inside. The main room was empty. Not that he really expected any visitors or customers. He didn’t spot his grandfather in there either. Perhaps he was in the back room, fiddling with his newest shipment of cards, or in the kitchen waiting to hear someone walk in as he just had.
He hoped he could make it to his room in peace before his grandfather appeared to ask him about his journey, why he looked so glum, and why he was a little out of breath.
His foot touched the first step before he heard, "Yugi! Welcome back!" Yugi groaned inwardly and turned to see his aforementioned grandfather coming out of the kitchen, grin seen on his face through silver facial hair.
"Hi, grandpa," he replied rather nervously.
"How’d your little journey go? Did you find anything? What’s with the glum look? You’re a bit out of breath, I see; are you okay?"
Sometimes Yugi hated knowing his grandfather so well. He turned slightly back towards the stairs before saying, "Can we talk about this later?" Or, more preferably, he didn’t say, never?
"You do look tired." His grandfather inspected him closely. "Sure." He pulled back, grin starting to disappear. "I think maybe you need some rest."
Yugi let out a sight of relief as he continued up. He was stopped one more time by his elder’s voice, which said, "But when you’re rested, I want to know if you’ve found anything!"
Yugi now sighed in annoyance. He wasn’t going to tell him that his grandson is now the latest suspect. That would really be insane. Of course, what wasn’t insane about any of this anymore?

He tried to keep from slamming his door even once, much less slamming it repeatedly. He ended up making a booming noise only once before letting go of his grip on the door’s handle. He rummaged around in his pack as he set it on the floor and pulled out the plastic, clear bag full of his dirt specimens.
Why exactly he and Yami brought some eluded Yugi, since there was nothing to be found. Wait, perhaps there was. Where was that magnifying glass of his? He seized it from it’s resting spot on the headboard of his bed. He didn’t bother with opening the bag, he just put his eye near the glass which showed him larger images of the dirt.
After searching the whole bag for any unusual items, he tossed the bag into his evidence drawer, closed it, and sat stupidly on the carpet. He had no idea what to do. He was completely dumbfounded and stumped. The police, they had figured a while ago, was out of the question as an option. And they couldn’t just stop when he had to prove to himself his own innocence. It was outrageous, it was scandalous, but he had to admit, it was utterly brilliant. This, he deduced, was no ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill crook with a ski mask, bag of valuable goods, and a gun. This man, this woman, or whoever it was, was good. Very good. So good, they tricked a whole world about the sudden inconvenient death of a businessman. And they knew somebody, they obviously now knew that Yugi, was after them to take them down and turn them in. That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, apparently.
False clues, leading to false allegations, false accusations, a false criminal, a false jury verdict… Yugi shook his head to snap out of his daze and out of that particular train of though. They had to go back, and the two amateur detectives would keep going back every day until they proved someone guilty. It was bound to happen, sooner of later, and Yugi would get such extreme satisfaction out of it and would then no longer feel so beholden to the fallen Kaiba.

Perhaps if a true danger presented itself to him, he might stop. So far, it was only clues, just almost harmless clues. No letters or calls of death threats or any everyday activity interrupted by something very odd and very off. If there was a threat, the clear and present threat, of danger, the investigation might end. But maybe the reason none of this has happened is because the killer doesn’t want to scare him away. Maybe the sick and twisted man’s sense of humor kept him intrigued with the fascinations and follies of this boy who was on his fake trail. Or perhaps was it that the criminal was leading him, stringing him along in this game, controlling every piece of the puzzle until Yugi was in the perfect position for him?
These disturbing thoughts, too, were replaced in his mind by something a little more cheery. The prospect of bed and of sleep, and of some small amount of release from this world. He was physically exhausted, and mentally he was on his way there, too. Yami agreed that his grandfather’s assumption was right on target and rest was to be called for. Yami mentioned that he did look beat, and even the spirit’s spirit was low and weakened, also tired and wanting sleep to rejuvenate himself. It was then that the grandfather decided to interrupt Yugi’s ‘rest’ by knocking on the door.
"Yugi, how do you feel? Ready to get up?"
Yugi realized that he must have been looking at the dirt and pondering this deal for a long while. He called back to his grandfather.
"Ah, grandpa, I’m really not ready for anything much at all. Let me sleep for a few hours, okay?"
There was silence at the door. "Okay, a few hours then. But I don’t want you sleeping the whole day away!" was the reply.
"I won’t." Yugi heard him go back downstairs. He sighed, wondering jokingly if maybe he could become a philosopher. Yami doubted it, which put the smallest of smiles on Yugi’s face. He gently took off the dirty shoes and put them by the drawer. Not really evidence per se, but… He jumped into bed.
It was warm enough that he only grabbed one light sheet to cover his body. He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. He then realized his problem and took hold of the chain that kept the Puzzle safely secured around his neck.
"You don’t mind," he asked, remembering Yami’s accusation from earlier, "do you?"

Yami shook his head. "No, of course not."
Yugi took off the hefty item and set it on his headboard, where he had found his old magnifying glass. He could no longer feel the strong presence deep inside of him, and he guessed that Yami felt the same way as their connection to each other was severed. Yugi laid back and found a very comfortable spot.
"Ah, that’s it…" The Puzzle he had grown used to carrying for so long, but sometimes it just became cumbersome and somewhat of a nuisance. His breath became deep and even as sleep descended upon the both of them, though the other had no idea of each other’s conditions.
Yugi woke up to the sound of his grandfather returning, beating on his door, asking him to wipe the sleep from his eyes and get up. Yugi lifted his head.
"What time…" He spotted the clock and let his eyes focus on it. 2 in the afternoon. Well, it had been a few hours. To shut his grandfather up, Yugi called out as well as he could, "I’m up, I’m up, already, okay?"
He shook his head. He said it before, and he’ll say it again; if Yami wasn’t a mother hen, his grandfather sure was. He reached back behind his head and slipped on the Millennium Puzzle, which awakened Yami from his own slumber.
"Grandpa wants us?" he asked as Yugi confirmed it. "Okay. Let’s not keep him waiting too long, then, or he’ll think we sneaked out the window again."
"And then I WOULD be in some serious trouble."
"Indeed."
Yugi trudged miserably out of his room. At the top of the staircase, he saw his grandfather waiting for him down below. He sighed, blinked a few more times to assure his awareness and that he was indeed awake, and to help adjust his eyes to the change in light. He then proceeded to go downstairs.
"I’m here," he stated bluntly, standing in front of his grandfather. "Now what is it?"

"And a good afternoon to you, too, sir," his grandfather replied with a sarcastic roll of his dull purple eyes. "That’s a fine way to greet me, don’t you think?"
Yugi didn’t apologize, but smirked. "Perhaps. Though when would I ever call you ‘sir’?"
His grandfather shrugged. "Call me old school."
Yugi laughed. "Trust me, I already do."
"Oh, now that’s the way to say hello to me; insult my age!" His grandfather gave a full, hearty laugh, shaking his small stature.
"Maybe I won’t if you never use the phrase ‘old school’ ever again in an attempt, a failed attempt, mind you, to look or sound somewhat hip or cool."
"Well, you can’t blame me for trying, I suppose…"
"I’m not so sure about that."
His grandfather stood in amused thought for a moment. "…’Failed attempt’, eh? I didn’t sound in the least bit hipper and younger?"
Yugi shook his head. "You sounded disturbing. I half expected you to start rapping and break dancing to a boom box on the floor with huge, gleaming gold and silver necklaces and chains!"
"Why, you think I should?"
Yugi gaped. "I think there’d be an upheaval."
"Of what?"
"I’m not sure, but of something. Say, the popularity of rap and hip-hop music forevermore."
"So that’s a ‘no’ I hear, then?"
"A big one."
"Ah. Okay. Just making sure." He shook his head in plain amusement and took Yugi by the shoulder, steering him to sit with him.
"And so much for me trying to get straight to the point," added Yugi, following.
"The point of what?"
"You dragging me out of bed."
"I wouldn’t say dragging. You exaggerate too much."
"Fine, politely knocking on my door, calling my name until I get up."
"Much better."
"So…" Yugi shrugged, taking a seat beside his grandfather, "what IS the point? What did you want to talk about today? The reason the old shall never be cool in the eyes of their grandchildren and be looked down upon by the younger generation?"

His grandfather looked at him incredulously. "What a very depressing though, thank you."
"Well, I’m chock full of those today," he slipped.
"And why would that be?" His tone grew serious, probing. It made Yugi feel vulnerable and uncomfortable.
"Eh, I don’t know. I‘ve just felt terrible today."
"Can you think of any reason?"
"And since when are you a child psychiatrist?"
"Hey." His grandfather put his hands up in defense. "I’m just trying to make sure everything’s okay, that’s all."
"I’d really rather not talk about it."
"What did you find?"
Yugi resisted the sudden urge to jump and scream that he must have seen the situation and that he didn’t do it. He instead asked calmly, "Why? You think that has to do with it?"
"You were perfectly chipper this morning, then you come home a mess. I don’t know, why don’t you tell me? You don’t need to act stupid around me or that I don’t have to know anything about what’s going on. I want to know, I want to help you."
Yugi twiddled his fingers. "I…found some footprints. Just inside the door. It was most likely from mud, and it had to be last night either during or after the rain."
His grandfather nodded. "Okay. That’s…good, isn’t it? Now you’ve got prints."
"You don’t understand," Yugi said.
"Apparently not. Did you recognize them or something?"
"Yeah," he replied. "They were mine."
The silence that followed was incredibly nerve-wracking for the both of them. Yami gave a suggestion. "Say something more. Explain it."

Yugi took a breath. "It was my style of shoes, and it was my size. But I have no idea how they got there unless there’s someone else whit my shoe size and taste in footwear. A belief that I’m sticking to for the time being."
"You don’t think you left them?"
"Grandpa, I KNOW I didn’t leave them!" Yugi stared wildly at him, almost amazed he’d say such a thing.
"What about last night?"
As if I haven’t heard that argument before… "I didn’t go anywhere near the mansion last night! I didn’t do it, you have to believe me!"
"Calm down, calm down, I do believe you. But this is pretty serious."
"No fake, I know that already." Yugi sighed. "I have no idea what to do!"
"I’m not sure what you can do." His grandfather rubbed his chin as he thought. "Are you going to go back?"
"Of course! I do have to clear my own name."
"Today?"
Yugi gave this a once over. "Well, I doubt it. First thing tomorrow, though. First thing."
"Because you think the criminal does this all under the cover of nightfall?"
He shrugged. "It makes the most sense. Nobody would ever see him."
His grandfather nodded gloomily. "I see." He stood up. "So I guess this is why your mood took a nose dive from this morning, eh?"
"Pretty much…" Yugi crossed his arms. "I mean, I can’t believe someone would do this. But you know what this means? It means, that is, if it’s not some person with my kind of feet, that he knows who I am."
"Or just who lives around here. Who’s connected to someone famous."
"…What are you getting at?" asked Yugi, not quite sure what his elder was saying.
"I don’t think Bakura’s very famous. He’s done nothing to grab any public attention. Yet the person framed him. And Joey. He may have placed high in both tournaments, but let’s be serious, you, Pegasus, and Kaiba were the big names while Joey’s just overshadowed and unnoticed."
He gave a nod to assure himself of his own thoughts. "And Mokuba, well, everyone knows he’s there and his brother cared for him, but he wasn’t a very big name."

"And you’re saying that he’s just framing people who are connected to me…?" Yugi gasped. "That’s…that’s…"
"Ingenious."
He was too disturbed by this thought to roll his eyes. "Well, that wasn’t really the word I was going for…"
"But it’s true. Think about it." He sat back down again. "Maybe all of these false clues are supposed to lead up to you. Like you’re the ringleader or are framing your own friends, then just got careless with the last time. And since you really have been there, taking the evidence, ‘leaving’ the footprints, and touching everything, you’ve left a DNA and fingerprint trail everywhere you went. They can make it look just like it was you."
"Why would…but it wouldn’t make that much sense, would it?"
"The public doesn’t know you, your personality. Even if they did," he said, shrugging, "the overwhelming evidence would turn them against you. The biggest name since Kaiba, and his only threat as King of Games suddenly turns up dead."
Yugi shook his head. "They’ll think it was jealously? Over just a game?"
"There are people in the world who do think like that," admitted his grandfather. "Do you think anyone else knows about you going around finding all of this?"
"I told Téa about Joey, but that’s it…"
"Think that there’s anyone else investigating as you are?"
He shook his head. "If so, they’ve been either very smart or very stupid." There was another long bout of silence between the two. "What can I do…?"
"I don’t know." His grandfather got up again. "I really have no idea. The only advice I can give you is to catch this creep and put him away for good!" He walked back into the kitchen.
"Yeah, well that’s proving far harder than originally expected…" muttered Yugi who didn’t move from his spot. "I may just have to throw myself in jail. Along with Joey, Bakura, and Mokuba."

"I’m sure you’re going to find him with such an optimistic attitude such as that."
"Oh, and what do you know?" Yugi replied to Yami’s comment. He was far from being in the mood for that kind of thing. "You can only help as much as grandpa, which is not at all. Nobody’s got a clue what can be done, but this guy may just be too good to catch! So excuse me for being pretty down on happiness and luck right now."
Before Yami could say anything, he then added with a small hint of malice, "And don’t give me any of that ‘go off and relax for a day, take your mind off of everything’ advice, it’s pretty much bull to me."
Yami huffed and turned his back. "Well, maybe this is what the killer wants."
"And just what do you mean by that, huh?"
"Maybe he’s trying to make a rift between you and everyone you care about."
Yugi wished he could see Yami’s face right now, but he didn’t turn around. "Between your best friend, brothers, harmless friends, even yourself. Between you and me."
"But…" He started to regret everything he just said to the spirit. "But how could he know about…us?"
"How should I know? I don’t know anything, remember? I’m useless to you."
"Yami, please, you know I didn’t mean it like that!"
"Sounded pretty sincere to me," Yami said darkly.
Yugi was quiet, not sure if he could ever find a proper response to that. He tried anyway. "I was mad. I was, I was frustrated, you know? I’m sorry, but I’m just…"
Yami sighed. "We don’t know who this person is," said Yami, answering Yugi’s question. "He, or she, could be someone who has an Item, or has experienced the link between us."
"It can’t be Bakura."
"Probably not, even if he is a suspect."
"Ishizu?" suggested Yugi. "Marik? Shadi? Pegasus’ back? Look, I don’t know who it is you’re trying to mention."
Yami gave an invisible smirk, unseen to Yugi. "Neither do I, really. I was just trying to find an answer to your pressing question."

"Téa knows, I think. Maybe Joey. And Tristan, but I’m not sure."
Yami turned around. "Well, maybe we should go back tomorrow and find out who it is." He gave a smile.
Yugi did as well, glad to see that Yami seemed to have forgiven him for his rudeness. "Together?"
"As always."
"Then we will! It seems you’re not mad at me anymore, right?"
"Maybe. You’ll just have to see."
The two walked back up to his room chatting about how Yami wasn’t mad at Yugi, but Yami denying it, which lifted their spirits.
Later that night, Yugi had taken out and laid on the desk the evidence. He had taken the lock of hair and put it into it’s own bag, just so he wouldn’t lose it and so it could be easily grabbed. He sat in front of them, looking from one to the other, elbows propped up on the desktop and head resting in his hands. A melancholy look was plastered on his face as he wondered what he might find the next time.
This is nuts, he stated dumbly, as if that wasn’t already obvious.
I mean, how long can he keep this up? I still have a lot of friends to be incriminated and added to my growing list of suspects. And if this guy is as good as I think he is, this could on for weeks. I’m not sure I could handle that.
"You’ve already given up school to figure this all out," said Yami, appearing by his side and staring at the bags as well.
"Your personal health near that. What next? Don’t eat, don’t sleep? Give up your own safety? I know you probably won’t be able to take it all if it does indeed go on that long." He shrugged. "But somehow, I don’t think it will."

"How can you know that?"
"I don’t know, it’s just what I think."
"Look, thanks for trying to cheer me up—at least, I think that’s what you were doing."
"Well…half and half, let’s say. How about, if that does happen, we stop after a week? Maybe we could slip a note to the police that they should continue the investigation into this cold case."
"It’s hardly been a few weeks, Yami," said Yami with a sad laugh. "I wouldn’t really call it a ‘cold case’."
"Whatever, you get my point. Just let more professional people handle it."
"Yeah, and find my prints, not find this evidence, and throw me in juvey until I’m old enough to get in jail for who knows how many years for murder."
He let his head fall to the desk with a thud. "And when they DO find this stuff," he motioned to the bags as well as he could from his position, "they’ll get me for tampering with the evidence or planting evidence or something like that. I don’t know; I don’t watch Law and Order…"
"And I doubt that Jerry Orbach will really be with you on this one."
"I think you might mean Sam Watterson." Yugi managed somewhat of a smile. "Your knowledge—and lack thereof—of pop culture never ceases to enlighten me."
He tilted his head to glance at Yami. "But you still don’t know the Hardy Boys?"

"Oh, very funny, it is so to laugh."
"Sometimes, yes."
"I’m glad I can be here to be mocked to amuse you."
"So am I."
"And to use your sarcasm on."
"That, too." He sighed and lifted his head. "I don’t think I can get anything out of this, I don’t even know what I was thinking by just looking at these." He put them all away, closed the drawer, and leaned his chair back so it balanced on the back two legs. He stared up at the blank and bland ceiling.
"Can’t help you there. But maybe you could just find something you couldn’t see before. Hey, it happens."
"Yeah, well…" He made almost no real reply. His feet, crossed, were on the desk on the space that the bags had just occupied. His hands linked behind his head, digging into his tall and colorful hair. If luck was with him, he wouldn’t accidentally lean too far back and fall, tumbling onto the carpet. He then hoped he didn’t jinx himself.