Not that this was exactly rare for said family… after all, for the better part of his high school career, Yuugi Mutou had suffered a rather serious case of multiple personality and schitzophrenia, a mild dip into narcissism and masochism, was well known for his habits of matrydom, and was now often accused of necrophelia.

All the aforementioned problems were, in fact, not diagnosed by a doctor, but rather by general consensus of the public.

The current problem was not one of these, but rather because for once in its inane little life, the general consensus was wrong. Yuugi Mutou was not a necrophiliac.

It was this that was the problem.

The necro was willing. It was the philiac that was not, as a three-thousand year dead pharaoh ranted at his partner's life long best friend, glaring as if it were her fault.

And, to be perfectly honest, it really was her fault. Because if she, as well as the rest of the female population, did not exist, then really, Yuugi Mutou would have been much more willing to bestow his hormonal attention on the dead.

Anzu Mazaki, as the aforementioned friend, was having trouble finding the ability not to either burst out into laughter, or be disgusted at the very idea. The fact that the better part of her high school career had been spent wishing she were a necrophiliac never entered into her mind.

The three thousand year dead pharaoh, better known as Yami Yuugi, or just Yami so no one could accuse him of the narcissism he was really guilty of, found his argument perfectly rational and not in the least bit disturbing. In fact, he found it rather insulting that for such a politically correct society, it was just assumed that just because he was dead he wasn't allowed to engage in the sexual relations he so sorely needed.

After all, he continued, he breathed, he bled, he had bodily fluids. Just because he had died once, threemillenia ago, that did not mean he was- well, it did mean that he was dead, but it didn't mean he was dead.

And Yuugi Mutou looked so very screwable when he was hanging out the washing…

But none of that was an issue. What was an issue was that Yuugi Mutou had no interest in him hormonally.

In fact, Yuugi Mutou had spent half the morning staring rather lustfully at a picture of Lara Croft in the final stages of the R-rated Tomb Raider. It was not, unfortunately, because he wanted to raid any tombs, so much as he wanted to be raided himself.

Yami would have gladly volunteered, except Yuugi Mutou had then clarified that he wanted Lara Croft to live up to her name and title.

Anzu Mazaki, unfortunately, was not being particularly helpful. She reasoned, incredibly unhelpfully, that Yuugi Mutou wouldn't want to sleep with Yami even if he never had died because, strangely enough, he was a he.

Yami had countered that he was a pharaoh-he, and that wealth, power and the ability to have shadows feed on a person's very soul usually trumped the gender issue.

Anzu Mazaki had calmly pointed out that this was Yuugi Mutou they were talking about and none of the above would have much influence, especially since Yami would never allow the shadows to feed on Yuugi Mutou's soul.

This was followed by a short pause as Yuugi Mutou stretched the kinks out of his back and Yami observed the expanse of flat stomach made visible by the movement.

Yami wondered if offering to massage the kinks out using a great deal of some aphrodesiac-endowed oil would help his situation along any.

Anzu Mazaki asked if Yami would need a cold shower before Yuugi Mutou was finished hanging out the washing.

The point was then raised that the reason Yami believed himself to be so hormonally driven was not because he was somewhere between the active ages of eighteen and twenty-three, but because he believed Yuugi Mutou to be the other half of his soul, and really, in all honesty, there was only one way for two physically separate halves to be joined.

Anzu Mazaki wondered if it would be possible to sell this idea to a comic book company and make billions of yen fulfilling thousands of female teenage fantasies. This question was not to be answered, however, as she realised that, despite all his bravery, arrogance and downright sensuality, Yami was a wimp.

The fact was, for all his whining, Yami was terrified of ever having to actually admit how he felt to Yuugi Mutou. He refused to pull a stunt so ludicrous that he would be able to laugh it off as a joke. April was long over, and even so, April Fools' day was not something widely recognised. February and March had also disappeared, meaning he could never blame any rejected advances on the romantic seasons. December, however, was a long way off, so Christmas romances were also hidden in the unforseeable future.

Yami could never openly admit something such as this, on the fear that Yuugi Mutou would respond as he always did when confronted with anything that could be construed as an emotional or physical advance: a well thought out "huh?".

Worse still would be the emotionally scarring: "you're kidding, right?", or, of course: "um… thanks… but… I don't like you… like that".

Yes, it would appear that Yami was not as arrogant and self-assured as we would have him believe.

Unfortunately, a solution to this was never found, as Yuugi Mutou finished hanging out the washing and returned to suggest Anzu Mazaki join what could have been a very romantic picnic in the park with himself and Yami.

Yami glared as Anzu Mazaki cruelly agreed.

The Mutou family still had a problem.