Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh, nor do I claim rights to any of the affiliated characters.

Warnings/Notes: The first of 31 prompts for December, appropriately titled Decfanfic on tumblr. Polarshipping.

Twenty-four years she languished in hope and heartache; her only sins false confessions of needing to be alone. Or so she told herself when she learned, again, to stand on her own two feet, and found she could not step lightly.

That even when she tried, her tongue was sharp and her gaze abrasive, as if strangers might ambush her if she didn't cut them first.

She wound waves into curls and lavender into deep, sultry amethyst. Crushed false promises under heels and ground subtlety into their ashes.

By the time she realized she couldn't outrun him, she feared trying had worn down every remnant of softness that'd brought them together.

More than four years went by with no explanations or promises, just the empty, open road and newspaper articles with his name highlighted. By the time she could bring herself to admit that he had broken down her walls, that he might be the only one she had ever truly shown herself to, he had made a name for himself. Bummed her address from a long-purged acquaintance in a bar, and arranged a meeting.

She always did pick romantics.

"I'm not who I was back then, for Christ's sake Joey!"

Normally he would've smiled, trying, but never saying, that he could prove her wrong. Tonight his throat was raw from screaming and he didn't have the energy to cry anymore. He stared across the empty pond and let her old, lace handkerchief burn a hole through his resolve.

"If you're going to leave, go today."

He held out his arms for the rough-around-the-edges, beholden-to-no-one young woman, and let her have the choice he had taken all those years ago, without even realizing. "Please," he said, "we don't have to do this."

He tried to be numb.

She froze. Choked. "What would you like me to do, Joseph?"

"Skate with me." He said.

She stood against the clamor of her armor in the snow covered clearing and fell into his arms, "Only with you." She whispered.

Even before she spoke, it didn't matter that nothing had been resolved – that he still had far more questions than she did answers. They finally had last moments that wouldn't keep him up at night. If he had to, he realized, he could live with them.

When his legs trembled from exertion and Mai was gasping for breath, doing her best to hide the laughter in her voice, he prayed it wouldn't be the last time he'd hold her close. Please. He thought, eyes catching hers, don't let it end like this.

"Honestly Joey," Please. "It's always been you."

He pressed his lips to hers, savoring the warmth of her mouth.

Thank you.