A Darker Chocolate

A/N: 1) I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or any brands mentioned and this is a multi-chaptered sequel to the one-shot. 2) This fic has nothing to do with religion and is definitely not a critique of religions that consider Heaven and Hell important tenants in their belief. 3) High chance of very unrealistic events with no such thing as the concept of a timeline. 4) All warnings apply, especially the usage of strong language and mature themes. Written to make people smile, not to offend them.

1. The Demon Underlord

Yami became numb to the sound of his own breathing as his body began moving on its own accord, his fears overwhelming his kinaesthetic senses. He forced his aching legs to move forward, constantly battling with the soft earth consuming every step he took. Nearly tripping over himself, he yanked a foot out with both hands, attempting to resist the urge to look back and failing miserably. Three pairs of glowing eyes closed in on him and he whipped his head back in fear, propelling himself forward with a vigour he knew he couldn't sustain for long.

The Hell forest was dark and inconveniently damp from the Hell rain that had fallen some time during that night. He'd managed to avoid falling over completely despite the unseen obstacles in his path and he was grateful for it since he knew falling on his face wasn't a luxury he could afford at the moment. Despite the frigid Hell night, he was very warm, the leather latched to his skin becoming increasingly itchy as it soaked up his sweat.

He could hear the twigs snap in their wake as they bounced along, closing in on him like a stealthy hunter within range of his prey. Any minute now, they would be right at his heels, then on him, then attacking him, then, well, actually, he wasn't sure what Hell pinecones (1) did to demons (at least not ones this size anyways) but he was sure it couldn't be anything good.

He closed his eyes, trying to shake the negative thoughts out of his mind and he forced his exhausted body to move, to do something to save himself from the ill fate awaiting him for his transgressions. The Hell pinecones growled, the sound so low, it would have been out of range for human ears but, unfortunately, did not escape the acuity of his superior demon auditory senses. The sound bounced off nearby trees and vibrated through the ground, snaking towards him like a skilfully handled lasso.

And, as soon as the dreadful creatures uttered their battle cry, his quivering thigh gave out on him and he met with a face full of dirt, the Hell pinecones surrounding him at once. The leader, slightly larger than its henchmen, hopped on Yami's back, intentionally weighing itself down as much as it could and driving the struggling demon further into the ground. It grinned, displaying its full set of pointed teeth and reached out with both needled hands to hold Yami's shoulders down.

The extremely long forked tongue dance across the side of his face as it spoke, the sound a cross between a seasoned smoker and an oxygen-deprived frog, "You let it take you…"

"No, I poopokingly swear, I didn't!" The dirt rushed into Yami's mouth at that protest and he turned his head to the side, spitting out as much of the bitter substance as possible and accidentally swallowing some in his desperateness.

The lead Hell pinecone jabbed a sharp finger into the back of Yami's neck and the demon gave a silent cry, his body tensing before submissively letting the ground support him, "You have all the signs of a taken creature, demon, now confess!" The last part of that was less spoken as it was hissed as the forked tongue continued to jiggle in the air like a festive ribbon.

His 'no' was swiftly rewarded with a kick to his side by one of the henchmen and, through his grunt, he briefly wondered how it was possible since they didn't have any legs. "Confesssss," The leader said again, digging its body into his back and driving his groin into the earth, "It had taken you and you liked it."

"I didn't – ah," Yami screamed again as one of them (he couldn't tell which one) yanked at his hair and the three started laughing, repeating the action to see if he'd do it again. When they noticed that the noises coming from the demon formed a semi-coherent melody, they tugged at his hair at calculated intervals, manipulating him into the tune of 'Old MacDonald' and only stopping when he threw a fistful of dirt in one of their eyes.

"Hahahah! Okay, okay, you guys can back off now. Oh man, that was awesome! Demon," The lead Hell pinecone waved it's comrades away but couldn't manage to control it's mirth, "if you hadn't committed such an unspeakably embarrassing deed, I'd recommend you to the Hell choir."

Yami wasn't sure what pissed him off more, it's sudden change in tone or the fact that this change was at his expense. He reached a fist out to thwack the closest one (and at this point he didn't care which one it was, he just wanted to feel pinecone beneath his fingernails) but felt it pinned down just as swiftly as it his thrust in the air.

"But seriously," It's voice dropped again and it leaned into him in mock intimidation, that tongue doing its business in ways that, in more optimal circumstances, would have made Yami's imagination run like there was no tomorrow, "Admit itttttt."

"I. Did not." The words crawled out of Yami's throat as he tried hard to stay calm and was inching ever closer to failing, "By shaftlicking, buttslutting, ejaculaconsumatory barf, enjoy it!"

The lead Hell pinecone tapped a finger at the back of Yami's head, the digit disappearing in that unhellishly large mound of hair in a way that made it a little worried, "Your memories say otherwise. Last chance to confess."

The demon dejectedly hid his face in the dirt, no longer caring whether any got inside him or not. It wasn't fair. He was just a victim of circumstance and, despite how damnably erotic and delicious that circumstance was, it was circumstance nonetheless. A very soft circumstance. One that smelled like Febreeze and baby powder. But still a frapping circumstance! Fuck that circumstance! Fuck it in it's Poppin Fresh belly button!

"Last chance, demon."

Yami ground his teeth together and swallowed hard. The Hell pinecones were tricking him. As infinitely shameless it was to admit to liking the act, it was 'infinitely plus one' more shameless admitting to his inability to control the situation. Maybe he deserved this after all. There was no doubt that, if he was an observer instead of the victim (the term 'victim' used to as much to his advantage as possible), he'd want the disgusting wretch to get his due punishment. He watched as a worm disappeared beneath the earth and secretly wished they could switch places. THV probably couldn't affect a worm but it dealt him great damage, and he found this truth a little sad.

"Gentlemen, take his pants off!"

"W-what the assjabbing f - " Yami shot up as much as his body could shoot up with the thing on his back holding him down. His flailed uncontrollably but was cut off in mid sentence as the head Hell pinecone shoved his face into the ground. Two pairs of hands were on him in an instant, each taking hold of either side of his bottoms. He tried his best to make the process for them as difficult as possible but he had an obvious disadvantage. The leather pants were past his knees and caught around his ankles faster than he'd expected and the head Hell pinecone positioned itself behind him, using it's knees to splay his legs open.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do." The leader sneered and lowered itself until it prickly body poked at Yami's butt.

And Yami screamed.

And his eyes snapped open.

And he sat up.

On his bed.

He looked around to make sure the four walls and ceiling weren't a hallucination.

And they weren't.

He flopped back down on the silky Hell cushions, attempting to catch his breath. His head throbbed with the pounding in his chest and his pupils dilated out of synchrony. He grabbed for his favourite pillow, getting an armful of air instead and peeked over the side of his bed to find it laying too far to reach. Still in a state of shock and too lazy to crawl off, he settled with the other fifteen pillows strewn around his bed, cuddling up to whichever one he could grab.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to get back to sleep or not. After a gruelling three hours of work on Zork, Yami had hurried off to the lunchroom and gotten his slice of cake, sitting down exactly where he'd been before, except this time, with some rope and a cage. His impatience found him jabbing and rejabbing at the dessert. Nothing happened, and, after two minutes of waiting, he got out of his seat and checked under every table in the room, moving onto the underside of the refrigerator, stove and the innards of every cupboard after failing to find what he was looking for. No Hypervirgin. Subsequently, he heated the cake in the Hell microwave and placed it beside the semi-closed door, fanning at it to get the scent as far from the room as possible. He intermittently poked his head outside and looked up and down the hallway, grumbling and fanning with more vigour when he saw nothing. His boss, Madame Reapbecca, happened upon his (by Hell's standards) unusual behaviour and, after spotting the rope and cage, berated him for stealing office supplies and sent him back to work, claiming an hour-long lunch break was obviously far too long for the 'indolent' demon. He'd spent the rest of his work day in a foul mood, taking it out on Zork and receiving some congratulatory pats by his coworkers for his amazing performance. He'd collapse onto his bed shortly after getting home, falling asleep with various plots to catch The Hypervirgin swirling in his mind.

At first, it was simply a matter of principle, but after the implications of the dream successfully permeated his mind, he realised it was a life or death situation. No matter how much effort he put into burying his shame, their demon Underlord would, undoubtedly, find out sooner or later and put him through a horrific public humiliation before submitting him to an equally horrific punishment (which would probably be public as well).

Maximillion Supersatan Pegasex had won the Hell election over three thousand years ago and had never been defeated in office ever since. Although his greatest power derived from his ability to read minds, his charming personality and incredibly Hell-blessed good looks were close seconds and thirds. He prided himself on his libido and made this fact known by rejecting every female demon that (reportedly) threw themselves at his feet. He was the only one in all of Hell to go around in a non-leather outfit and still look desirable. He was also the only one in all of Hell that could go around with minimal usage of demon-tongue and avoid being branded 'inarticulate.' Whenever someone questioned these issues, he'd accidentally let slip his/her innermost secret and apologize profusely for being so inconsiderate. Everyone would laugh off the mistake while their Underlord blushed and chuckled at himself and, as soon as backs were turned, he'd punish said questioner for having such a secret in the first place. Those were just a few of the things that made Pegasex wonderful. He was also a Hell comicbook and Hell gorgonzola cheese connoisseur.

Yami decided to try for sleep again but, after changing positions, tossing and turning, and throwing half of his pillows on the ground, he gave up. He reluctantly climbed out of bed and stretched before squeezing into his clothes (since it was a sin, courtesy of Pegasex, for any male demon to sleep with clothes on). Composing his resolve and grabbing what he needed, he took an extra long look at his Hell apartment, somehow feeling like this would be the last time he'd ever see it. From here on out, it would be 'do or die.'

*

Yami dropped fifty Hell cents into the vending machine and pensively surveyed all of his choices before selecting number eight-hundred-thirty-two. The item slipped out from its coiled holder and Yami reached for it, grateful that he didn't have to kick the frequently malfunctioning machine this time to get at it. He fingered the package carefully, satisfied when he confirmed it was undamaged. Ribbed, for his, her, it's, their, or all of the above simultaneously's pleasure. If you are using this, you are a crackslacker.

"A condom, Yami?"

An arm draped around his shoulder and a familiar scent of charcoal-scented cologne stung his nose, the owner of both observing the object in his hand with disbelief and a hint of disappointment. "Go get unshanked, Bakura."

Bakura took the condom out of his hand and examined it as if he hadn't seen one up close in a very long time, "Must say, some skunkranking fungofooting non-popped cherry spitter is getting some pubilicious treatment!"

The white-haired linguist laughed when Yami irritably grabbed it from him, shoving it in his back pocket in hopes of avoiding the sight of the thing himself. When Bakura groped at the same cheek sporting the questionable object, Yami spun his hips and slapped the hand away, eliciting a mock-frown from his Hell comrade.

"Aww, and I thought we were such vomitacious pounda rot shit slunks!" Bakura stuck out his bottom lip and wiped and invisible tear from the corner of his eye.

"You are my shit slunk," Yami said, despite the fact that he certainly didn't feel the love at the moment, "My rot shit slunk, in fact. But you can be a fingerpentrating asshole sometimes." Bakura grinned and Yami continued, bringing out that bottom lip again, "The crapping mortal understanding of 'asshole,' that is."

Bakura brought a fist to his heart, "That was a real skeet to my bloodthrob, shit slunk of mine." He pointed to Yami's backside again, "But seriously, a condom? What the un-tits?"

Yami stared at Bakura for a moment, wondering if this was something he could tell his best friend. As an academic, Bakura had a very high opinion of himself and was quick to judge others. He was pretty sure Bakura had a few unspoken opinions about him as well and sometimes he wondered to what degree Bakura was genuine with him. Unfortunately, the linguist had talent to back up his claims. Many demons envied him but failed to find ways to bring down his ego. And if Bakura hadn't been, on some level, a good friend, Yami would have been among those demons.

"I'm going after THV." The words dropped out of Yami's mouth.

Bakura's eyes widened and he frantically whipped his head around, making sure no one else heard what Yami just said. He took a step closer to the shorter demon in order ensure their privacy and emphatically mouthed 'The Hypervirgin?" waving his hands about to emphasize the absurdity of the statement.

Yami nodded slowly, regret pooling in his throat and holding back any satisfying answer.

When it was obvious that Yami was serious, Bakura closed his open jaw with a hand and gave him the gravest look he could muster, "You're a shafttard."

"I know it's a butt-bold statement. But I swishsticking swear, I got close. Testicularlastingly close!"

"You're still a shaftard."

"Testicularlastingly close, Bakura!"

"A brain-puking-damaged shafttard."

Yami wanted to reach out and strangle his best friend but the stunned expression on the other's face suggested that he hadn't quite escaped his shock. He waved a hand in front of Bakura's unblinking face for a few seconds before the incoherent linguist let out a breath and blinked rapidly, shoving Yami's hand out of the way. Bakura let out a blunt, "You'll fail" and Yami went to shove him for real this time but Bakura stopped his hand, shaking his head to indicate his seriousness.

"Heard lots of skankers say they're 'testicularlastingly close,' fart, heard them say 'testicularlasterifically close' too. You're just another foot fungus." Bakura patted Yami on the shoulder as if to comfort him but Yami would have none of it.

He pulled a tiny feather from his other back pocket, one he'd pluck from the peripheral of Yugi's wings last minute. He didn't know why he did it at the time. Maybe it was a vestige of his kleptomaniac past. But he was glad to have some sort of evidence for his 'intellectual' friend.

Bakura looked upon it sceptically at first but his interest immediately flared when Yami held it under his nose. He took the delicate object between thumb and forefinger, closing his eyes and carefully running it under his nostrils like an expert judging the quality of wine. Yami watched with inexplicable anxiety, hoping Bakura didn't breathe in too hard or get snot on his souvenir. Yes, a souvenir, that's exactly what it was.

Bakura opened his eyes and carefully regarded the alien object, "Febreeze and baby powder," He gave Yami a sly smirk, "and some ass."

The shorter demon snarled at him and made a grab for the feather but Bakura jerked it away and gave one final, loud, sniff, "Could still be gutrutt falsecock though."

"It's not a gutrutt fake!" Yami retorted, his thoughts of Bakura now leaning more towards 'asshole' than 'shit slunk,' "Look at it!"

The academic held it up to the Hell light and closed an eye, twisting his wrist it back and forth to check it's sheen. At one moment, it was visually there, the next, it disappeared. At a certain angle, it flashed all the colours of the rainbow and at another angle, it was too white to look at directly. The linguist was in awe and, once again, was incoherent.

Yami crossed his arms over his chest in triumph, "Testicularlastingly close, Bakura."

"Testicularinfinitalation close… if this is a non-falsecock." Bakura's lips seemed to move on their own as he held it with a reverence of an archaeologist who'd just discovered fossilized dung. He blinked back to reality when Yami snatched it from his fingers, lightly brushing off whatever debris happened to be on it from the hands of the inconsiderate academic and slipped it carefully in his front pocket (which was definitely not due to Bakura's olfactory-related comments before).

Bakura rubbed his temple, hoping to message the belief into his highly sophisticated brain physically. He was a witness to the impossible and he had to respond to it in the most educated-sounding way he knew:

"How?"

"It was simpledimple."

"Then what the coitalcut happened?"

Yami's eye twitched and he pursed his lips. His body went rigid in the effort to control the shame threatening to bleach his face and he was immediately slapped with the image of oversize, glowing-eyed Hell pinecones yanking down his pants. His eyes distracted themselves with the colourful array of condoms in the vending machine while his mind scoured for a believable lie.

"Lunch break ended. Reapbecca started her tonguetweatch screeching."

"What the fackshack were you upchuckstroke smeeting during your un-hurling smack?"

"You and I both know THV is ungroiningly unpredicatable," Yami threw his arms out to emphasize his point, "And what did you snortsucking except me to do? Not have sex with it when I see it?"

Bakura raised an eyebrow, "You mean 'fuck' it."

"Yes… fuck it."

Bakura scoffed, "You skeeting me?"

Yami nodded, "Glad you understand."

Bakura made a face, "Again, what the coitalcut happened?"

Yami began his story, making sure to curb certain truths in his favour and highlight his appropriate and highly skilful deeds wherever necessary. He flipped things around, turned things inside-out and had things inside other things when they weren't originally there. Bakura listening intently, scanning for signs of falsehood in the internally flustered demon. Although Yami did a pretty good job, things started getting a little shaky when he got near the end. He trailed off and the two stood in silence for a bit before Yami abruptly ended it with "It's frapping THV! Need I upchucking say anymore?"

The academic scratched his head, wondering which plot hole made less sense. There was something very off about Yami's story but he also had to consider the fact that Yami did not have the gift for speech that he enjoyed every day. Yami was also just a white-Hell-collar worker, which meant that he lacked the mental sophistication to remember small details. As an analprodoasser, Yami's intelligence was clearly not to Bakura's calibre and it would only be natural for him to delude himself in regards to his merits.

"Shit slunk, just want you to pedophilatic know," Bakura clapped a hand on his best friend's shoulder, "I will never, spanker, lose my respect for you." He spoke slowly and with basic demon-tongue, making sure Yami understood.

The shorter demon mentally rolled his Hell eyes, plastering a genuine-as-possible smile and gripping Bakura's hand to return the gesture. Whenever the proud-ass demon said something like that, it usually meant… meh, Yami didn't feel like going there. Meeting his best friend's 'understanding' with some 'understanding' of his own usually worked out better.

"Wanna come with?"

Bakura shook his head, "I got a DYKE to slunk tomorrow."

As expected, Yami tipped his head and blinked in confusion, saying nothing. Bakura continued with a mirthful grin, "Demon-tongue Yearly Knowledge Exam," He patted his 'wangalicious' Hell dictionary inside his Hell satchel, "Wow, shit slunk, you've really been poopatiously out of the snatchlatch, extremely non-hymen academic ballscroll for a long piss, haven't you?"

"You don't have to make it sound that pittingly bad," Yami mumbled.

"Nah," Bakura smacked Yami on the back a little too hard (even by Hell's standards), "I respect you, remember?"

And Yami narrowed his eyes, "I'm handstimulatingly, peesprinklingly, sultan-of-a-dunghole-beetle-eyeballs, laplickingtongueswirl, extraordinarily non-er-tight…" Bakura cocked his head but Yami continued, "…wedding-night-times-ten-thousandly snitchsnatch, saggingbutt, going!"

Bakura was left speechless as his comrade stalked away, impressed beyond measure at the show of such eloquently sophisticated vernacular. As soon as Yami was gone, he whipped out his Hell dictionary and flipped through it frantically, sighing with relief as a certain term Yami uttered was nowhere to be found. 'Non-tight' wasn't even a word.

*

"Although I understand we have reiterated this rather important issue before, I strongly believe it is of utmost importance that we re-explore the reasons for momentarily keeping you on hiatus in hopes that this rather unexpected and, unfortunately, inconvenient mishap is resolved. I understand you have brewed some ill-feelings as a result of the duration of this examination but, again, unfortunately, you must remain under questioning until this unexpected and inconvenient mishap is resolved. Although you have been informed of this and have been asked question several times before, I am obligated to ask this again: do you understand, Yugi?"

The angel clasped his hands in front of him obediently and nodded, "I understand, Miss Celibacy."

The blonde woman's purple eyes softened and she immediately regretted using such a harsh tone with their beloved Cupid, "Please, you may refer to me as 'Mai.' Miss Celibacy was my mother."

Again, Yugi nodded quietly, too consumed by his guilt to really listen to what Mai said. His eyes fell on his quiver at the far end of the room and it felt weird not to have it's reassuring weight on his shoulders.

"Although I understand that mistakes are as common in this realm as they are in the realms neighbouring out own," Mai sorted through a stack of papers and pulled out the document she was looking for, "You are the source of truth in the inexplicable disappearance of Burgundy arrow number eighty-thousand-trillion-five-hundred-twenty-six-million-seven-hundred-thousand-two-hundred-sixty-four." She handed Yugi the paper with their Angel Overseer's signature on it and Yugi read through the official document slowly, already well aware of most of the details outlined.

He took his time reading the document, attempting to prolong eye contact with the… femininely endowed… angel looming over him. He found himself staring at his pooched-out belly, wondering how he failed to notice the weight gain. It was must have been the desserts. Desserts. That was what got Yugi into this mess in the first place.

For many reasons, both personal and social, Yugi couldn't lie, even if the truth posed a great threat to him. And what a truth this was. One that was as lean and hard as the mythological Ares and smelled as rich as cinder wood after a bonfire. Darn that truth! Darn him…er… it in it's well-defined forearms! As an afterthought, Yugi wished he had such forearms. He found himself staring at his forearms.

"Um, Mai?"

He had the blonde angel at full attention. Sometime during his reading, she'd grabbed a clipboard and a pen, both now intently poised and ready to take note of what he had to say. Her breasts almost rested on top of the clipboard, but, of course, Yugi didn't notice. "I would request that you do not hesitate, Yugi, however, in order to facilitate effective recall, I would also urge you to take your time."

"Unfortunately, I am rather uncomfortable voicing my knowledge at the moment. Would it be too much of a burden if I am to begin by inquiring into the details regarding the previous mistakes you have mentioned before?" Yugi wove his fingers together and gave her the most pleading look he could muster, one that was said to be capable of blinding ten demons simultaneously.

Mai lowered her clipboard and reached out to gently pinch Yugi's cheek, "I have known very few who have successfully resisted your charm, dear Cupid." Yugi's entire being tinged pink when she winked at him and he twisted his bottom in his seat, "You may ask me anything."

"Um, w-what were the, um, consequences of these, um, unfortunate mistakes… if I may inquire?"

Mai 'hmmed' and pensively tapped the back of her pen against the clipboard, "That is a rather broad question with no single answer to completely satisfy it. Every case has been unique onto its own and the severity level of these mistakes I have mentioned before fall upon a vast spectrum. Perhaps you would be so kind as to restate your question in more definitive terms."

Yugi swung his feet (which didn't touch the floor) nervously and slipped each hand under his thighs, "Well, I suppose I shall begin by inquiring into the least severe case of such mistakes. If you would be so kind. Thank you."

"Ah, please allow me several minutes to search for the answer you seek."

"Do not hesitate to take your time."

Mai semi-circled the desk, nearly knocking a huge stack of papers and sat down at her Heaven computer. She got out of the screensaver (which were mini toasters with wings) and began typing frantically. Yugi watched uneasily as those manicured nails moved in a blur and after what seemed like forever, she stopped and turned the monitor screen towards him.

"I believe this will sufficiently answer your initial question." And Yugi pulled his chair forward to get a closer look, "In the mortal sixty-four B.C., Pink arrow number seventy-two-million-eight-hundred-twenty-two-thousand-four-hundred-ninety missed George Walters by a fraction of a hair when he turned his head to greet a passer-by he thought he recognized but had been mistaken. This arrow unintentionally hit the same passer-by who instantly developed a strong infatuation for Martha Atkins, someone who had been interested in George for a very long time. After failing to win George's heart, Martha submitted to this other male's advancements and the two were married twenty years later. All three people had been seven years old at the time of the incident."

"Um, Mai?"

"Yes, Yugi?

"Although I may sound ignorant for asking, my curiosity inclines me to do so. Who are these people?"

The female angel grinned, "Exactly."

Mai continued grinning and Yugi sat in silence, not completely sure what she meant by that. A more important question prodded his mind and he was both hesitant and eager to ask it. "A-and the… worst of these mistakes, Mai?"

She flipped the screen and back and her fingers went to work again, this time, her face contorting into a series of negative expressions as she worked. She shook her head and Heaven swore under her breath, completely unaware of the effect this had on Yugi's turmoil. At odd times she stopped and stared at the screen, scanning and re-scanning over what she'd just read as if she didn't believe what she saw. Just when mini Mt. St. Heaven was about to erupt in Yugi's belly, she stopped, this time, keeping the screen facing her.

"To be honest, I do not know which truth is more detrimental, the fact that this arrow missed so severely or the fact that it had been a malfunctioning one in the first place." Mai bit her lower lip as she scanned the details once more, "Oh ungoodness…"

"Mai?" Yugi prompted again, sweat collecting in his palms and making them stick to his thin tunic.

Her fingernails somehow made it to her mouth as she read aloud the details, her face inching closer to the screen as she did so, "In the mortal 1939, an archer became unusually obsessed with the events of the living world. Consequently, she decided to provide the 'victims' 'assistance' and snuck into a meeting of the world leaders, the United Nations."

Yugi held his breath, unaware he was doing so.

"She found her opportunity when Winston Churchill stepped up to the podium, his eyes relentlessly trained on one Adolph Hitler as he spoke." Mai scrolled down and started reading in her head until Yugi cleared his throat.

"Oh, apologies. She had assumed the extra Yellow arrow in her quiver would fly undetected by our records, but, in fact, it had just failed to meet standards. Whoever tested it, for one reason or another, failed to remove it from her quiver. To bring this compendium of misfortune together, Mr. Hitler turned toward Mr. Joseph Stalin to ask for a piece of gum just as the yellow arrow hit him."

"S-so," Yugi waved his finger in the air to help him connect the preverbal dots, "Mr. Churchill and Mr. Hitler were in eye-contact when this archer launched her yellow arrow at Mr…. Hitler?"

Mai nodded.

"…and just as the arrow was about to hit Mr. Hitler, who had been watching Mr. Churchill and vice versa, Mr. Hitler turned towards Mr. Stalin and - "

" – asked for the piece of gum…"

"…asked for a piece of gum. Which, therefore, meant that Mr. Hitler and Mr. Stalin were in perceptual range of each other when the sub-par friendship arrow hit Mr. Hitler."

"That is correct."

Yugi scoured his memories for any possible reasons why this was such a huge problem in the past. Although his knowledge of historical events wasn't perfect, he was more aware than most (apathetic) immortals of the details regarding major, mortal, events. When it finally clicked, he almost jumped well out of his seat.

"The Nazi-Soviet Non-aggression Pact was the fault of Heaven (2)?" He gushed.

"Technically, that is correct." Mai sighed, "And we do not know whether the faulty yellow arrow, one which we do not have a numerical assignment to, escaladed the events of the mortal realm in ways more detrimental than a well-functioning arrow may have avoided. However, considering the course of action following this 'Pact,' I would say it did."

Yugi sat stiff in his seat. "May I ask of the consequences that faced the wielder of this expansively unfortunate occurance?"

Mai scrolled down some more and made a face, "Oh, the poor dear!"

"Please do not withhold information in such a manner, it is vastly unnerving."

"Apologies, Cupid. Well, according to the records, one Kisera Meantwell was sent straight to the Underheaven without the possibility of probation. In fact, I am quite certain she is still there at this very moment if you are indeed interested in venturing down there."

"Um… I believe I would rather…" Yugi trailed off, wiping off his palms on his tunic and avoiding Mai's gaze. He wanted to go home and hide under his mountain of pillows and never come out. The elder angel saw this distress and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, "Do not fret, dearest Cupid. I am certain we shall see through this misfortune of yours as peacefully as possible, with little harm to yourself or your reputation." That hand went to nudge his cheek again, "And indeed, I have my doubts as to the amount of harm a gentle soul such as yourself can do with one misplaced arrow."

"I suppose."

"Come, let us review your file once more and then we shall advance from there." Mai rearranged more paper on her desk, dropping a couple of things here and there, which Yugi so graciously picked up for her. Had it been some sort of alternate universe and Yugi was somehow a demon, he would have hidden his file upon seeing it, but this was not an alternate universe.

"Mai, is this the folder you seek?"

The female sighed with relief and embarassement, gratefully talking the Heaven manila folder from Yugi, "I would certainly lose my own wings if the doctor had not sewn them so well onto my back. Now, let us have a look at this, shall we?"

"Y-your wings are not Heaven-born?"

"Ah, of course, I had suspected there was a reason why I had said this earlier." Yugi tried to take a peek at her shoulder but she unintentionally turned, "Burgundy arrow number eighty-thousand-trillion-five-hundred-twenty-six-million-seven-hundred-thousand-two-hundred-sixty-four was to find its way to Britney Spears during her private concert for Justin Timberlake (A/N: I don't own these people)."

"Again, although I may sound ignorant for asking, my curiosity inclines me to do so. Who are these people?" Yugi non-chalantly tried to peek under her arm, sheepishly grinning at her when she smiled brightly at him.

"Exactly! As I predicted, we are already halfway through resolving this issue!" She paused, "W-what are you - "

"Oh, apologies." The seraph's gaze unfixed itself from her shoulder blade, "My nervousness had taken me in a rather inconvenient chokehold and my body reacts in strange ways as a result. Again, apologies." Yugi sat back down like an obedient child and Mai's Heaven heart almost melted in its silicon encasing.

"Well, as I have just shortly proven, you have very little by which to attribute your nervousness. Once we resolve the other half of this issue, one I have mentioned before which I believe you hold the key to the truth, we will be able to end this session and you may return to your duties as a result of your lifted hiatus. Please tell me, Yugi, do you possess the knowledge as to the true fate of this particular Burgundy arrow?"

Yugi wished he could have died in his seat.

"W-well, I had been…" He swung his leg a little too violently and almost kicked the front of the desk, resulting in a change of seating position and a lot of unconscious scratching.

"Are you unwell, darling Cupid?" Mai's concerned purple eyes followed his fingers as they clawed as his neck, "Would you like a drink? A snack perhaps? Or… some Cortisone?"

His fingers crawled to the front of his neck and Mai noticed the deep red marks spreading across his nearly translucent skin, "To be perfectly honest, Mai, I am rather…hungry."

"Oh immense gracious! We have kept you hear for a duration of well over thirty hours! Apologies, Yugi, for I often am so involved in my work that I am rather forgetful of certain necessities sometimes." She was glad to see his scratching ease up a bit, "Yes, sometimes I wonder if the doctor had perhaps made a small mishap when he paired me with the brain I have today. If you would be so kind as to forgive me, I would be much obliged to give you a small break of snack."

Yugi's eyes flipped to her forehead for a moment before he gratefully nodded, "You are well forgiven and more. And I would very much appreciate the small break of snack as you have so graciously offered."

"Please ensure that you return when you are sufficiently satiated, Yugi."

"I would not even think of being an obstacle to your ability to do your job." Yugi slid out of his seat, immediately noticing the massive wedgie his tunic was giving him. Wondering how much Mai saw of his backside, he made a grab for his quiver and stopped and her voice broke through the air.

"Apologies, Yugi, but I'm afraid I cannot allow you to take that with you until the issue is resolved. Although it may appear to be a rather harsh treatment, we cannot allow you to continue your work until your record has be absolved of any ambiguous happenings."

He turned back around, using the distraction to 'deal' with his little problem, "Although I understand the logic and purpose of that rule, I assure you that I am merely in the need of the company of my quiver and no more. Over the years, it has become somewhat of an extension of my body akin to that of a limb or a finger and I am somewhat uncomfortable without it. I assure you that no arrow shall fly from its holding."

Half if the silicon had already metaphorically melted from her Heaven heart and the pitiful expression on smallest seraph in their realm didn't make it any easier. "I can understand your distress and attachment to your quiver, however, I am obligated to adhere to the rules laid out to me."

Yugi laid a hand on one of the arrows and his eyes looked ready to spill out massive amounts of liquid, "Please do not separate us, Miss Celibacy."

"Oh, oh, as you wish then, Cupid." There was a high chance she'd need a retouching of silicon after this, in more places than one perhaps. She watched as the visibly relieved angel carefully slung the quiver over his shoulders and tottered out the door. She couldn't help but giggle at the way his tunic clung to his backside and made a mental note never to tell him.

Suffice it to say, Yugi didn't make it past ten steps out the door when something rather inconvenient happened.

TBC…

1) Reference: "Getting taken by the Hypervirgin was a disgrace deserving of exile and pinecones up the backend.

2) Also known as the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact of 1939. Sorry for messing with history so badly.

3) Also, I'm aware that I put the words "Hell" and "Heaven" in front of some nouns but not others. Trust me, it would be very annoying if I did that for all of them.

Comments of any sort will be greatly appreciated.