A/N: Taking a break from my Toria/Kaiba fics to write a Tea/Yami Bakura for some stupid reason...Really not my topnotch stuff, but if I want to write it I will! Bwahaha! This is what I get for reading crappy Yami Bakura fics...Oh well, enjoy!

Note: This completely disregards/does not at all take in affect my other YGO fics. No Toria. -sniffles-

Bright neon lights lit the watery surface of the dark pavement, like some sort of perverse reflection of another world. Music pounded from the corners of the street, clubs titled 'The Black Pearl' and 'Tamara's Treasure'. In the heavy darkness, streams of people entered the clubs, talking and laughing. No one noticed a girl slip in through the side door of the nearest club, past the bouncers who would try and keep her out if they saw her ID. But tonight...she just had to dance.

Tea gratefully undid her jacket as the warmth of the club spread over her. She breathed a sigh of contentment as she felt the vibrations from the band spread down through the cement floor and into her feet. Music was always her escape. She surged onto the dance floor, into the knot of twisting bodies and short skirts. She closed her eyes and let the beat reach her for a second, heavy and hard. She began to swing her hips, raising her arms in an arc above her head, trying to forget as the dance swept her away.

But it kept replaying over and over in her mind, like a DVD that kept replaying the same scene selection.

Earlier that day...

"Hey, Tea, did you want to talk to me?" said a voice from behind her. She turned. A boy was coming down the neat brick path in the park. He had strange spiky hair, red and black and blonde – and a large golden pyramid necklace. Tea smiled.

"Hey, Yugi!" She sat down on the park bench. "Have a seat."

Yugi sat next to her on the bench and looked at her expectantly. Suddenly Tea was nervous. How was she going to say this? But how was she not going to say this? If she didn't do something about it, she was going to scream.

"Listen, Yugi, there's something I have to tell you," said Tea, licking her lip anxiously.

Yugi looked at her with blank, innocent eyes.

"Sure, Tea, you know you can tell me anything!"

There was a pause as Tea struggled to get the words out, and then looked down at her lap as she whispered, very quietly, "I – I really like you, Yugi. Really like you."

"Huh?" asked Yugi, his face clouded with puzzlement. "I can't hear you, Tea. What did you say?"

"I said," said Tea, louder this time, looking into Yugi's violet eyes, "That I really like you...as more than a friend."

Yugi blushed a deep crimson, and said, "Sorry, Tea...But I don't really...I mean, I know someone – I mean, I don't..."

Tea felt hot tears drip down her face, then stream, then pour...She didn't even here his last words, stumbling over his own tongue to explain...She was already running down out of the park, down the road into the streets, tears blurring in her eyes...

She felt like such an idiot. Why would she ever have thought Yugi liked her? They were friends, just friends...Old friends from when they were small. Like he would have any interest in little Tea, who had played on the swings with him in kindergarten...He had changed, lately, gotten stronger, darker...But his feelings for her hadn't changed, apparently...

She shook her head to clear the thoughts, her brown hair tossing like the leaves of a tree in the breeze. It obscured her eyes as she held back tears, and a sob echoed in her diaphragm. Just trying to dance it all away.

She suddenly froze as she felt hands settle on her hips, a strong figure pulling her close, grinding against her. She turned quickly, trying to see his face, and saw only a thick white mane of hair hiding his eyes in the flaring, disorientating strobe lights of the club. She tried to squirm out of his grip, but he held her fast.

"One dance," said the dark voice. "That's all I want. Just one dance."

All I wanted was Yugi, thought Tea. But if her dreams went unfulfilled, why let another suffer the same fate? Not even knowing why, or caring, she leaned back into the stranger's arms, still dancing.

Gotta keep dancing.