Dusting off the cobwebs on this one! It's a little different than what I normally write, but I think it's still good. Oh, and I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Remember Me

Two little boys collapsed on the grass, laughing. They had run all the way through the fields, were now sweaty and tired. They'd rest a while before they headed back. It was such a nice day; the sun was high, the sky was clear, the winds were cool. And they had each other. For now, at least.

The brown haired boy looked over to his side, where a blond head lay near his. Its owner had his hand thrown over his eyes to block out the brilliant but scorching sunlight, and he was still breathing hard from their race. And he was suddenly sad, sad that he couldn't stay friends with the boy next to him. Sad that he had to say goodbye.

"Hey," he said, nudging his companion. The boy peeked out from behind his hand and peered up at him. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asked, confident that the answer would be yes.

"Sure," the blond replied, starting to get up. He got to his knees unhurriedly and then sat back on his heels. The blond mimicked his posture. Large blue eyes bored intensely into brown ones, seriously and earnestly. He took a deep, steadying breath.

"I don't want to be High Priest," was his soft but grave confession. He had felt as though the words had been eating away inside of him, and he had to say them, to get them out before they burned right through him. And now that he had said them, he felt an old weight drop from him, and a new one settle on his shoulders.

Brown eyes widened, and his companion asked, just as softly, "But why not?"

Those blue eyes now looked away briefly, brows furrowed slightly. The thing was, he couldn't really explain it. He knew it was a great honour to be chosen to be the next High Priest, and he knew he'd still be a poor orphan boy if he hadn't been handpicked by the Pharaoh's acolytes.

But as grateful as he was, and as eager as he was for the power and prestige that came with it, he wasn't willing to give everything up. As much as he was getting, so much more was being taken in return. And although he knew that great power required great sacrifice, he didn't want to lose anything else. Hadn't he lost enough?

But he couldn't put it into words, not so that his friend would understand. He'd never understand. So instead, he said, "I have to go away for so long. I don't want to have to leave."

The blond did understand that, and he could tell that he didn't want him to leave either. "When are you leaving?" he asked, a hint of a tremor in his voice. He was sure that his friend hadn't thought about their separation at all; the day had always seemed so far away, like a stationary cloud on the horizon.

"The next full moon," he said plainly.

"Oh," was the soft reply. That was so soon. Brown eyes looked down at the ground awkwardly; he knew the blond wasn't sure of what to say. He was never that good at talking things out, and always preferred more tactile solutions. "How long will you be away?" Those brown eyes looked up timidly, and he had to look away.

"I don't know. I have to study for a long time. I'll be gone until the High Priest dies, I guess. Years, maybe." He stopped for a while, and then continued. "We won't be able to see each other anymore. I'll be underground…I won't see the sky…" He looked up now, squinting, trying to memorize every detail. He was giving up so much. So much…

His felt his friend looking at him, and was taken aback when he suddenly shot forward and quickly pressed his lips to his own upturned cheek. He looked quickly away from the sky and back at his companion as they both regained their balance from the kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked, a little bewildered. No one had ever kissed him before. Except maybe his mother, but he didn't remember her at all.

The blond shrugged sheepishly. "I don't know. To remember me by."

He smiled a small, almost bittersweet smile at his friend. "Don't worry. I won't forget." He meant it. But then he frowned. "How will you remember me?"

"I could never forget you," he said seriously, shaking his head. But the brown haired boy still looked around for something, anything, to mark his presence in the boy's life. Was he supposed to kiss him back? No, he wanted something more permanent. He looked upward again, thinking.

"I've got it," he said after a while. "They say that the bluest skies are infinitely high and crystal clear. When you see a clear blue sky, think of me." He thought it would be nice if his friend thought of him when he saw every blue sky he himself wouldn't see. Somehow, he'd feel like he was seeing it too, like he was still here with him.

"A clear blue sky. Like your eyes. I won't forget," the blond said. He could tell he meant it.

And then they smiled at each other again, almost shyly this time. He didn't know what else to say, or how else to let his friend know that he'd miss him. He hoped they'd meet again. He hoped they'd still be friends. Things would be different, but maybe they'd stay the same. He'd try to. He wouldn't forget him.

"I'll race you back!" the blond shouted suddenly, and took off back through the fields. He grinned, the sombre mood broken, and he immediately responded to the challenge. He ran behind his friend, wind in his hair, leaves whipping his face. He decided he'd enjoy what little time he had left with him, and face the lonely years ahead when they came. He wouldn't think about his leaving. Not yet. After all, he thought as he pulled abreast of the blond, he had a race to win.

~*~

Years later, the blond saw him again. He was High Priest now, and he was nothing like the boy he knew. His childhood friend. They were hardly men now, but all evidence of youth had been erased from the High Priest. He was cold, and aloof; and his gaze was always even and remote, as if he didn't even see the people in front of him. His face was always serene and severe all at once, and everyone knew that to approach him was a punishable offence.

He never approached the High Priest. He was a servant after all, and he knew his place. But he hadn't forgotten him in all this years, and he had kept his promise. Every time he saw a clear blue sky, he thought of him. Sometimes he thought of him when the sky was cloudy. Or when he was inside, and couldn't see the sky at all.

He wondered if the High Priest remembered him, that day when he kissed him in the grass and promised never to forget him. It didn't seem that way; he always looked right through him, his eyes sweeping past him as if he were part of the stone walls that made up the temple. Sometimes he thought the High Priest's gaze lingered on him, but he knew he was imagining things. And he tried not to look, to give away the flutter within him.

That was why he hadn't looked up when he saw the High Priest coming down the empty corridor. Why he had taken so long lighting the torches on the wall. Why he didn't dare turn around once he was done. The High Priest was still there.

He turned slowly, and saw that the High Priest was alone. He was never alone. He wondered if he should make a hasty but reverent exit, but the High Priest drew closer. The closer he got, the more the blond inched backwards, and soon, the High Priest was right in front of him, standing mere inches away while he slumped against the cold stone wall.

And his skull was swimming; something was radiating intensely from the High Priest, a heady mix of power and magic and gods knew what else. And he was glad he was leaning against the wall, because it was so strong it might send him crashing; and he was glad he was so weak, because if he wasn't he might actually open his mouth and –

"I must be only addressed as High Priest Set, my new name. You should know that."

How had he known he was thinking of his childhood name? Yes, he knew that the High Priest couldn't be called by that name anymore, and he had thought it was fitting. It seemed that the child had vanished from this imposing figure before him who knew his every thought.

"I'm sorry, High Priest, "he rasped, his throat dry.

Blue eyes bored into his, the same way they had all those years ago, and he thought that maybe he hadn't been forgotten after all. Had he?

The corner of the High Priest's lips tilted slightly upwards (but it was nothing like the smile he used to know), and it was almost as if he had heard his silent question. He hadn't spoken out loud, had he? How did he know what he was thinking? He saw a flash of gold in his hand as the High Priest leaned in closer and closer, so that he could feel his breath on his cheek.

"What are the skies like today?" he asked softly, and the body against the wall got heavier, weighted down with relief, while its heart soared.

"Infinitely high and crystal clear," he responded softly as he stared into the High Priest's sapphire eyes. His voice didn't even sound like his own anymore.

The High Priest nodded and leaned forward, so slightly he was sure he'd imagined it. He had no idea what he was thinking; his face was as unreadable as ever. But he knew his own thoughts and feelings, and he knew that he hadn't been forgotten. No matter how much the High Priest had forgotten of himself, he had remembered him.

The High Priest pulled back now with a tiny frown, the greatest distress the blond had ever seen on his face. He was told abruptly to go about his business, and so he did, leaving the High Priest to his own. He suspected that the High Priest wasn't supposed to have done that, wasn't supposed to have talked to him. They probably would never speak again. But it didn't matter now.

Whatever else had happened, was going to happen, they had at least remembered each other.

I was organising some files on my computer and I uncovered this ridiculous fic that I had totally forgotten I'd written! I think I was inspired by a Rurouni Kenshin quote about the bluest skies being infinitely high and crystal clear, and I just got carried away from there. I'm glad I found it, I hope you enjoyed reading it. As always, leave me a review if you liked it, or even if you didn't!