I wrote this up for a Livejournal drabble contest, and hadn't intended to put it up, but my page is empty, it's kind of sad.
Obviously, I do not own Yuugiou, or any of the characters in it.
Whenever it was possible, he would sit by Malik-sama's side as he slept; doing so helped him concentrate, collect his thoughts, contemplate his situation. It had become something of a habit over the years, and it was one that he wasn't ready to give up.
But now, even as he tried to concentrate, his thoughts went off into a million separate tangents. He had passed through significant thresholds before—devoting himself to Malik-sama, and betraying the Pharaoh alongside him—but, he realized, this was something entirely different. He had gained a purpose in his devotion, and Malik-sama in his hatred, but that purpose was lost, the Pharaoh shown to be an ally, not an enemy, and although he wasn't directly affected, Rishid couldn't help but feel lost, too.
Now that Malik-sama's dark side was destroyed, and he wasn't in need of help leading the Ghouls, and he didn't need protection—from the world or himself—what purpose did Rishid serve?
At that time, when Malik-sama was in search of his vengeance, he had never dared, never dreamed of looking back, but now he didn't seem to have a choice. The man lying in bed next to him was not the same man who tried to kill the Pharaoh, nor was he the terrified child who was forced to bear his seal. Both of those people were gone, and the man lying next to him now was someone with a new future. But just where in that future did he fit?
That child, uttering what may as well have been sin, had thought of him as a brother, but no matter how happy that had made Rishid, he wasn't his brother, he was a servant, and Malik-sama his master. To that child he devoted himself entirely.
That child grew up to be a slave-driver.
Not just his, of course, but of hundreds of brainwashed victims, and although he had not been mind-controlled, he acted no more of his own free will or volation than any of them. While their collar of command was the Rod, his was his scars, his love, his devotion, and although he knew they were now free, he was unsure if he was. If the man who had made a slave of him was gone, was he a slave anymore? And if not, what was he now?
He sighed aloud, unable to make sense of any of the thoughts in his head. Next to him, he heard Malik-sama shift, and he wondered briefly if he'd woken him up. And indeed a moment later, he heard him speak:
"Brother, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
And in that moment, Rishid couldn't help but smile.