A/N: I'm, of course, still working on your one-shot requests. But I had this idea and I can't get it out of my head.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my plots and OC's.

Chapter 1: Yugi Astray In A Wood

"Midway upon the road of our life I found myself within a dark wood, for the right way had been missed."
-Canto I, from Dante's Inferno

I blink. Eyes open. Look up. Facing up. The moon. Why is it dark out? Why am I out now? My back is soaked with water. I laying in water. Laying on the ground. Outside. What? What happened? My head is killing me. I try to move, but pain shoots through my body, down my neck, courses through me. I close my eyes. Lay back down. It's cold. Think, Yugi, think. What the hell happened? I don't remember. I remember going home from class. I remember that. Remember talking to Joey on the phone. Hanging up. I saw something. What was it? What did I see? A familiar face? No. A fight? I don't think so. I feel hopeless, knowing I can't remember. I move my arms out to lift myself up. And touch cool, cold skin.

A body.

I turn a look. Can't scream. She's dead. I look at her closely. I know this girl. Big, peering eyes. Blonde hair. Sweet face. I know her. From another lifetime, it seems. Another day when I was just a child. Who is she? I know I know her. I can see her in my mind. A name. A name is there. What is it?

Rebecca. Rebecca Hawkins.

Oh God. I look at her. Yes, it's her. The little girl who clung to my clothes and called me her boyfriend. The little girl who clutched a teddy bear and demanded I repay what was hers. The little girl who'd never hurt anyone. Never could. She can't be dead. These things don't happen. She can't be dead. Just can't be. Why the hell is she here anyway? This makes no sense. Makes no sense at all.

"Rebecca. Hey, Rebecca. Wake up." It's so obvious she's dead. So glaringly obvious. But I can't think straight right now. I move my fingers to her neck. To check for a pulse. My fingers slip right into her vein. "Oh God," I murmur. I sit up all the way. Her throat's been slit. She's dead. She's dead and I'm here. Why am I here? I realize I am not soaked with water.

I am soaked with her blood.

We're in an alley way, I realize. Hidden. Dumped here. Someone put us here. Who? Why can't I remember? I stand. I am covered in blood. I am swimming in it. I will die in it if I don't get away. But I can't leave her here. I pull out my phone. 23 missed calls. Fuck. I dial the phone. Emergency line. Need to tell someone.

911 what is your emergency?

What do I say? "I'm uh, I'm in an alley way and I don't...I don't...ah shit shit shit."

Sir, please. It's going to be alright. What are your cross streets?

I wander not too far to see the streets. "Clarke and 10th."

We'll have someone come out there and-

"There's a girl. She's dead. She's dead, shit, she's dead. I don't know how, I can't remember anything I-"

Sir, it's going to be alright. We'll take care of it. I hang up. And I wait. Sit next to her.

"It's going to be okay. We'll fix this. We'll make it right, okay hon? We'll make it right. I'll make it alright." How old was she then? Ten? I was seventeen. No, sixteen. That was five years ago. Fifteen year old girls should not be dead in alley ways. They should be at home or the movies or crushing on boys. Not dead. Anything but dead. There are no sirens. The cops pull up. They're laughing. Wasn't I serious enough? Didn't I tell them she was dead? They stop. One of them turns away.

"Jesus."

"Please. Help her," I whisper. I'm crying. I've been crying now.

"It's okay kid. We'll get her out of here. Just, uh, calm down."

"Okay. Okay. Okay." I keep saying things. She doesn't deserve this. Doesn't need to be dead. I'm holding her hand. They tell me I need to let go. Tell me I can't ride with her. Because she's not going to the hospital. Because she's not alive or dying. Because she's dead. They put me in the police car.

"I want to go home," I whisper.

"Kid. You were found with a dead body. You're not going anywhere but the station."

"I want to go home..."

"He's in shock, I think."

"Think he did it?" Like I'm not here.

"I don't know I...hey. Aren't you that game kind or whatever?"

"What? Man, what're you talking about. He's a college kid."

"No, he's that game king. What's his name, uh Yani."

"That's the singer."

"Yagi."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Yugi," I whisper under my breath.

"Yeah! You're Yugi Mutou aren't you?" I nod. "Nah, this kid didn't do anything. He's the fucking game king or whatever. Nice guy, I heard. Hey kid, are you a nice guy?" He laughs.

"Shut up man. He's in shock."

"Whatever. Let's just get him back." I look at my phone again. 23 missed calls. Twenty three. I look through them. Most of them are from home. Some from Tea. Some from Joey. A couple from Tristan. Most from home. Most from home.

"Hey! Don't you be callin' anyone, alright?"

"My friends. My grandpa, they-"

"They can wait." The cop in the passenger seat snatches the phone from me. Scowls. It's covered in blood. I look out the window. I feel so far away from it all. So far from home. From her. She's a child. And she's dead. I cry silently in the back seat. The cop who is driving looks back.

"Hey, game king. It's okay. You're not in trouble."

"Yeah. Not yet."