Last night, I was crushed by Zepharen. The sensation of being slammed against the warehouse floor still lingered deep in my body. Not the pain in my back. Something deeper—the feeling of something shattering inside. The second floor of Turtle Game Shop. Morning light filtered through thin curtains, but Yuugi remained sitting on the edge of the bed, unmoving. The Millennium Puzzle hanging from his neck was cradled in both hands. Cold. Like ice. Just cold. The golden cracks that had formed back then, spreading wider last night, ran across the puzzle's surface, now devoid of light. When I traced them gently with my finger, they felt like real scars. (Atem...) I strained to listen, but there was nothing. Ever since returning from Alcatraz Tower after the Battle City finals, I'd been able to sense something faint—but that presence completely vanished with last night's total defeat. Yuugi lifted his face. There was a mirror on the desk. He looked straight at his reflection. Black short hair. Deep brown eyes. An ordinary, nothing-special face of a sixteen-year-old boy. It was different when Atem was here. Looking in the mirror, it felt like another version of myself existed within the same face. It was reassuring. But now—only Yuugi was there. (I'm weak.) He didn't say it aloud, but he formed the words clearly in his mind. (Alone, I can't do anything.) I recalled last night's duel. Every trap I set was predicted. Every monster I summoned was destroyed in a single move. Everything—every single move—was crushed. Zepharen was calm. Not a trace of panic. The last words he spoke wouldn't leave my head—"Is this all you amount to without Atem?" No. Yes. It was exactly true, so I couldn't argue back. Yuugi traced the puzzle's cracks with his finger, swallowing the rest of the words. Without Atem, I'm just... His breath caught there. Outside the window, the sound of the shopping arcade's shutters rolling up echoed. Turtle Game Shop would open today too. Grandfather's faint sounds of organizing cards drifted up from the first floor. A normal morning. The world hadn't changed at all. That made it even harder to bear. --- The knock came early in the morning. "[serious]Yuugi, you awake? Have you eaten?" It was Jonouchi's voice. Slightly quieter than usual. Yuugi looked at the door. It was locked. "[gentle]I'm fine. Just leave me alone." His own voice was hoarse. He hadn't drunk water since last night. The doorknob turned. When it wouldn't open, it stopped. "[serious]Yuugi, it's me. Let me in." He didn't answer. Beyond the hallway, Jonouchi placed his hand against the door. That alone told him everything. Hand pressed against it, standing there in silence. Just like when they headed to the harbor, just like when they returned from that warehouse—Jonouchi had always been beside him. But now, with just this one door between them, the distance felt infinitely greater. After a while, his footsteps faded away. Yuugi cradled the Millennium Puzzle in both hands once more. --- By noon, Jonouchi came again. "[serious]Yuugi, lunch. Eat something." "[gentle]I'm fine." "[serious]You're clearly not fine, no matter how I listen to it." "...Just leave me alone." Footsteps faded again. He came back. He left again. The third time he came. "[serious]Yuugi—! Are you breathing properly—!" I couldn't help but respond. "[gentle]...Yeah, I am." His voice came back immediately from the hallway. "[sarcastic]Then you can talk!" The door fell silent again. At Jonouchi's silly retort, my mouth almost twitched into a smile despite everything. But the weight came crashing back immediately. Footsteps faded away. --- After Jonouchi left, Yuugi got out of bed and sat on the floor. Sitting cross-legged, cradling the Millennium Puzzle in both hands. Eyes closed. He remembered the method Maria had taught him—pressing the Millennium Puzzle to his chest, directing consciousness like tracing the echo of emotion. Back then, there had been a faint pulling sensation from the direction of Alcatraz. He'd been able to sense the presence of the memory cards with his own power. For the first time, he'd touched a fragment of Atem. Now, he wanted to touch that again. Directing consciousness inward. Into the puzzle's depths. To where Atem's soul chamber once existed. He felt something like an entrance. But— It was heavy. Dark rubble piled endlessly. When he pushed, the rubble didn't crumble—gravity-like, it pushed back against Yuugi's consciousness. The space rejected him. Still, he forced more power. Pushed. Kept pushing. From deeper within, a voice echoed. Fragmented, filled with noise, but unmistakably— 《...You are...》 (Atem!) He screamed within his consciousness. Wait. You're still there. Wait— The voice vanished. The rubble completely expelled Yuugi's consciousness. He returned to reality. Opening his eyes, he saw the dark ceiling of his room. Something was running down his cheeks. Tears. He didn't know when he'd started crying. Yuugi collapsed to the floor, still clutching the Millennium Puzzle to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his knees. A sound came out. Not a sob. Something from much deeper—like everything he'd been suppressing finally crumbling all at once—just a cry that spread through the empty room. That small sense of response from the coordination that day. He'd thought he could fight with Jonouchi. He'd thought that even without Atem, he could take one step closer. Last night in the warehouse, it all disappeared. Without Atem, I couldn't—reach him. The cold floor transmitted through his knees. His hands gripping the puzzle tightened. The texture of the cracks remained on his fingertips. --- On a bench at Tornado Street in front of Domino Station—a wide street extending from the center of Domino Town's shopping arcade, where even on a weekday afternoon shoppers passed through regularly—Maria sat waiting. Jonouchi, walking through the shopping arcade from in front of Yuugi's room, immediately noticed the figure sitting on the bench watching passersby. Silver-white long hair swayed in the wind. Purple tattoo on the back of her left hand. Maria Zepharen. He approached without hesitation. He sat down beside her. "[serious]Yuugi's in bad shape." Maria, still facing forward, spoke briefly. "[cold]I know." "[serious]You've been weird since last night at the warehouse too." Maria didn't answer. There was a moment of silence. Passersby walked past. A child's voice echoed in the distance. Then Maria began speaking slowly. In scattered, short words. When her brother was still small, they were pursued by a certain organization—Nebra Veil, a secret society attempting to restore ancient Egyptian shadow magic to the modern world—and at that time, her brother gave up on the two of them escaping together. He offered his own future and freedom in exchange for protecting only his sister's safety. So perhaps now, her brother doesn't move entirely of his own will. But. "[sad]When my brother defeated Yuugi-san in that warehouse...the big brother I knew wasn't there." Her voice was calm. Like emotion had been erased, a composed voice. But Jonouchi was watching from the side. He saw Maria's fingers gripping the wooden edge of the bench turn white from the force. (Ah, this girl is really suffering.) Jonouchi stayed quiet for a moment. "[gentle]You're...having a hard time with that too, huh." Maria didn't answer. Still facing forward, she said nothing. Jonouchi looked at Maria's profile. Usually so mysterious, so unreadable, but now something seemed to be churning inside that wouldn't settle. "[serious]First time I've seen you make that face." Maria turned slightly toward Jonouchi. "[surprised]...What kind of face?" Jonouchi thought for a moment, then said bluntly. "[gentle]Like you're actually human." Maria paused, unsure how to respond. Just then, a child's voice came from among the passersby. "That's the person who defeated Marik!" Pointing at the glass-fronted game shop window. Duel Base Zero—the Card Shop officially recognized by Kaiba Corporation in Domino Town—still had Battle City promotional posters in its display window. Printed there was Yuugi's face. Maria looked at that poster for exactly one second. Then she faced forward again. Jonouchi didn't miss that one second. But he said nothing. He stood up. "[serious]I'm heading back." He said only that and started walking toward Turtle Game Shop. --- This time, he didn't knock. "[serious]Yuugi, I'm coming in." He said only that, then threw his shoulder against the door. Click—Bang. The lock gave way, and the door swung inward. The room was dim. The curtains were half-closed, weak evening light streaming in thin lines across the floor. Yuugi was sitting on the floor. Still cradling the Millennium Puzzle in both hands, knees drawn up. His face showed the aftermath of crying. His eyes were red. Dried tear tracks marked his cheeks. Even looking up at Jonouchi, he couldn't muster surprise. He had no strength left. Jonouchi braced himself against the doorframe, looking directly at Yuugi's face. He stayed silent for a while. Then, putting slight force into his knees, he opened his mouth straight on. "[serious]I know you fought to protect Atem. I know you stood alone in the finals and defeated Marik." Yuugi said nothing. "[serious]But Yuugi, what you're doing now isn't protecting anything." His voice dropped slightly. Not angry—a serious voice. "[serious]You're just taking everything on yourself, closing the door, crying, and calling it done. That's just running away." Yuugi's lips pressed tight. He had no words to counter. Because it was right. Because it was all true. But he couldn't stand. Even knowing, he couldn't stand. Jonouchi came further into the room. He lowered himself to the floor, matching Yuugi's eye level. He pulled a single card from his pocket. He placed it gently on Yuugi's knee. Yuugi looked at the card. It was faded. Old. The printing was slightly dull. But there was no mistaking it. (This is...) It was the card Yuugi had used the first time they dueled. After the match, Jonouchi had asked, "Can I have this as a memento?" Yuugi had given it to him. He'd been keeping it all this time? "[gentle]Do you remember?" Jonouchi said. His voice had softened slightly. "[gentle]Back then too, you had almost no life points left, zero cards in hand, and I thought it was all over—but you never gave up until the very end." Yuugi held the card in both hands. He stared intently at its faded surface. Deep in his chest, something stirred faintly. Just barely. Something that had been fading became a tiny point, existing there. The Millennium Puzzle—grew slightly warmer. It might have been his imagination. But the puzzle that had been ice-cold until moments ago seemed to hold a faint warmth. In Yuugi's eyes, just the smallest light began to return. He still couldn't stand. Couldn't get up. But something different from before now dwelt in that tiny point deep in his chest. Jonouchi said nothing. He simply sat on the floor beside Yuugi. Outside the window, Domino Town in twilight was quiet. The Millennium Puzzle's cracks hadn't stopped. Time continued to erode relentlessly. The distance between the face in that poster and the one sitting on this floor remained vast. But. Yuugi quietly gripped the card tighter.