Yeah, I've been gone a while. Year 12 sucks. But I've had enough of my sister whining at me for the next chapter, so here goes.

I don't own YuGiOh. And the ending of the manga made me very sad. Very, very sad. Though, I must wonder, how did Kaiba appear out of nowhere to be in the Egyptian desert like that . . .


For I Am Pharaoh


Screw The Chapter Naming System


Well, Yami was quite surprised, to say the least. Having escaped his tormenting hell of being tied up under the plane by the aid of his newly discovered yami, he had run up the stairs and burst asunder into the main cabin. Being of a Pharaoh sort, Yami valued mental stability in all of his servants (sort of as compensation to his own lack of mental stability). He had hand-selected all of his world domination crew, down to the smallest Kaiba brother, based on their intellects, reliability, loyalty, and sheer brute strength.

While he wasn't about to admit to picking a downright nutty group he was certainly considering the possibility based on the scene in the plane cabin.

What was it you were saying about your 'crack team of expert henchmen', again? Said Yami's yami with something of a smirk in his mental voice.

"Quiet you. Something has obviously gone amiss."

No duh.

"I said quiet! Now," Yami surveyed the scene again, taking in the utterly indescribable actions of Tea and Joey. "What happened to cause them all to descend into such madness?"

Perhaps they just missed you so much that they went nuts? Yami thought about it for a second.

"No, that is unlikely."

I guess you are an unpopular git then.

"QUIET, HEATHEN!" Normally the shouting would have drawn some attention, but everyone was far too busy being insane to even notice. Sighing, Yami reached a conclusion. He dug one hand into his pocket. "I suppose I have no choice then . . ." Yami's yami perked up, eager to see what was going on.

What, what don't you have a choice about? What are you doing? What is that thing? Can I see it? Pleeeeeeeeease? He made a haphazard attempt to take control of the body but Yami mentally beat him off.

"Stop it, you irritating thing. You are supposed to be my soul mate! Show some respect." Silence.

Look, I like you and all, Yami, but I do not like you in THAT way, and-


Oh. Sure.

With that, Yami once again regarded the thing he'd pulled from his pocket. It was, naturally, his very own Fantastic Fanfiction Plothole Device. They always tend to appear when the author has written herself into a corner, and so it had resurfaced in the story at this exact point in time. How convenient. Yami raised the tiny John Edwards figure above his head, and shouted, "I BID THEE UNDONE, HORRIBLE SCENARIO!" and hurled it into the ground.

There was an all-encompassing burst of sparkling fog which engulfed the entire plane, swirling and swirling and . . .


. . . Yami settled back against the plane wall with a smirk. Things were much, much better now. No more screaming crazy soldiers. How they had gotten that way, no one shall ever know, but it did not matter any more.

Wow, that was some trick, said the yami in the back of his mind.

"Well, for a Pharaoh such as myself, it is quite a simple matter to pull off great magical feats and-"

He was interrupted then by a small object that bowled into him suddenly. He flew backwards with a yelp, surprised, and looked up to find a very annoyed Yugi sitting on his chest. "Oh. Hello, Yugi," he said.

"Don't you 'hello' me," Yugi growled uncharacteristically. "I've had just about enough of this stupid world domination trip of yours. I don't know how you got out of your bindings, or how you sent us all crazy, but it ENDS NOW." Yami stared at the boy, quite alarmed. He'd always taken Yugi to be the quiet, reliable, nice one, sort of like a cute puppy dog but with a bizarre hairdo.

"Now Yugi," he started, regaining his Pharaoh-ly demeanor. "I have explained to you many times that . . . uh . . . what?" Yami sputtered out as he was pinned with a violent death glare.

"I don't CARE for your explanations. I – want – to – go – home!"


"NO BUTS! HOME! NOW!" Cowering under the frightening power of a main character gone angry, Yami cast about desperately for an escape route. And he found one, right inside his own head. Without so much as a how-do-you-do, Yami shunted his own yami into control of the body and fled to the back of his mind.

Blinking in confusion, the yami stared up at the enraged Yugi who had not noticed the switch at all. Yugi, taking 'Yami's' silence for defiance, started to shout again.

"I mean it Yami! If you don't take us all home this very instant, you will suffer a horrible, painful, murderous-"

"Wait, wait, stop!" the yami cried, holding up his hands in defense. "You have the wrong guy!" Yugi snorted.

"What the hell are you trying to pull. You're Yami, and you're responsible."

"No, I am not Yami. Seriously. I am his yami." Yugi blinked, and sat back.

"That's the worst lie I've ever heard of. I thought you could do better than that."

"It is not a lie! My name is Mid!"

". . . Mid."

"Yes, yes, Mid." Staring at what he was still assuming to be Yami-gone-madder, Yugi got off of his chest and stood up, glowering. 'Mid' got up as well and brushed himself off.

"Prove it," Yugi said, eyeing him suspiciously. "Prove that you're not Yami." Mid was bewildered.

"Uh . . . how? I have only known him for about five minutes."

"Don't ask me how, you're the one proving it to me." Sighing in exasperation, Mid cast about for something that would prove that he wasn't the Pharaoh. Physical appearance was out, seeing as he was identical to Yami anyway. He was in a pickle of a jam of a jar here.

Mid briefly flicked down the soul corridor inside the Puzzle towards Yami's door, only to find the door locked shut with a sign on it saying, 'DO NOT DISTURB. VERY IMPORTANT . . . UH . . . BUSINESS GOING ON. YES. BUSINESS. THAT MEANS YOU, YAMI-THING'.

"Oh, I do not know . . . um . . ." he rambled. "Can you not just take this on faith?"


"Crap." As they both stood there, they both realized something. "Hey . . . were there not other people on this plane too? Where did they go?" Yugi looked around, surprised, at the empty cabin.

"You're right. What happened? And the plane isn't moving anymore." Yugi ran down the aisle to the exit door, with Mid close behind. The door was open, letting in streams of light. They looked outside. "Wasn't it nighttime before?" Mid scratched his ear.

"How should I know? I was locked in that hold for hours. What did that Yami guy do to piss you all off so much anyway?" Yugi shrugged absently.

"Just kidnapped us to implement his worldwide domination scheme. Without asking, mind you."


"Hello? Tea, Joey, are you out there?" Yugi shouted. "Tristan, Kaiba, Ryou, Bakura, Mokuba? Anyone?" There was no reply. Mid pushed past him and went down the steps. He waltzed across the grass and up to a sign. "What does the sign say?" Yugi asked.

Mid glanced at it. "It says 'Welcome to New York'." He continued to look at the sign. "If this is New York, where is Old York? Is there a Not So Old But Not New York too? Say, if New York was destroyed, would they build a New New York? Is it a city? Park? Statue? Or maybe it's a shopping district. Hey, I could buy new clothes, these ones are so daggy. I mean, leather pants? That is so 60's. I reckon I should go for a kilt or something. What do you think?"

Yugi wasn't paying attention to Mid's babbling though. He was currently trying to figure out how in blazes they'd gotten to New York, and where the others had all gone. Chances were that they were lost somewhere in the city . . . or perhaps not so much lost as wandering around poking shiny things, hacking into the Times Square TV and sending innocent souls to the Shadow Realm. Possibly all at once.

He sighed. It was like Duelist Kingdom all over again . . . again. Why did they keep getting separated like this? It was like some divine force was trying to cause them as much havoc as possible. There was nothing for it then. He would have to find them all and keep Mid in tow. Turning back to Mid, he noticed that the other was still talking, apparently careless of whether anyone was listening to him.

"Although, maybe the leather pants are not so bad. They do have a certain flair about them, but I just do not like the tightness of them. Perhaps it is just Yami's style, but this is my body too, so I should get some say in the matter. Does he have any cash, I wonder? He is a Pharaoh, he must money somewhere, unless he just sends his henchmen out to get things for him . . . now there's an idea. Hey! Henchman Yugi! Does this Pharaoh Yami have money or do you buy things for him?"

"Mid, we have to go," Yugi said, ignoring Mid's question. "We have to find Joey and the others." He jumped down the steps two at a time and came to join the yami on the grass. Mid looked at him, then into space, then back at him again.

"Yami wants to know what is going on, I think. He is in his soul room thingy, but I think he locked himself in." He paused. "Quite an extensive vocabulary he has there. Should I let him out?"

Yugi thought about it for one hundredth of a second. "No. Leave him in there. In fact, barricade the soul door. I think I might grow to like you, Mid."

"Oh, that is nice of you. So anyway . . . is there such a thing as a Not So Old But Not New York? It is a strange thing to name something, whatever it is. I mean, there must be an Old York somewhere, right? You cannot name something a New York if there is not an old one. Unless there was just a single York to begin with. But then you would not know that York is the old one except for the fact that there is a New York. Oh, but I guess that does explain it, doesn't it? Where is Old York anyway? Is it right next door to New York, or did they build the new one on top of the old one?"

"I take it back," Yugi groaned. "You're annoying as all hell."

"All of hell, huh? That is an awful lot of hell to cover, you know, I could not possibly be as annoying as all of hell, I mean, it is a mighty big place. I heard there are seven levels in hell, so do you mean I annoy you on seven levels, or the annoyance is the breadth of all seven levels? Oh, but hell is not so much annoying as hot, really, so you must really mean that I am hot as all hell. Well, I am flattered, but I do not swing that way, and really, hell is mighty hot, so even being as stupendously beautiful as I am, it would be quite impossible for me to be 'hot as all hell'. Though I do appreciate the sentiment, you know. If you were in hell though, I suppose it would be rather annoying, so your statement does make sense on some level, but I figure hell would be more infuriating than annoying, so maybe you really mean I am 'infuriating as all hell', which would be closer to the mark, and-"



Geh, that sucked. Sorry. I haven't been writing much lately. Next up: lost in New York city, or, as Mid likes to call it, Not So Old But Not Quite New York city. And Bob will make an appearance, I swear. He's just so popular with the ladies.

- Vappa