Author's Notes: Crossposted on AO3.

Used to write YGO fics a bazillion years ago. Fortunately, that was years before I had an account and started posting here, because they're all terrible and not worthy of your attention. But I stumbled across and re-watched Season 0 on YouTube, which led me to seeing Dark Side of Dimensions—the existence of which I was completely unaware of until recently—and OMG SO SHINY. It's sad because I so would've gone to see that bad boy in the theater if I'd known it had been released (and if it'd been released locally, specifically, which is up in the air given the area's population). Anyway, the point is that the juices got stirred up, and this happened. And a couple of other things, but they aren't nearly as short as this.

Pairing(s): None intended; however, given what I consider the inherent intimacy of sharing a body, anyone who wanted to could construe Puzzleshipping

Word Count: 2584

Rating: T (adult theme)

Spoilers: None

Date Submitted: 6/17/2019

Claimer/Disclaimer: Obviously not, or else this wouldn't be posted on a fanfiction site, right?

The Reasoning Behind It: Just had a sudden "What if . . .?" Seemed like a cute idea.

Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.

The first time it happened, neither of them immediately noticed that anything was . . . off. It was a school day, so they were forced to adhere to the gentle but insistent tones of Yūgi's Zen alarm clock. When it went off, his arm moved out from under the covers and flopped around until his hand found the snooze button. His fingertips pressed it, then pressed it again nine minutes later, then again nine minutes after that. Finally, Yūgi accepted that he had to get going or he would be late. His body yawned and stretched, then sat up. Then he turned to slide off his bed, and that was when he became aware that something was wrong.

His body did not move. It just sat there, his eyes staring down at his hands, which lay limp in his lap.

The purity of Yūgi's animal terror instantly got Yami's attention. What's wrong?

I can't make my body move!

That concerned Yami as well, but not as much. Aware he and Yūgi were able to switch places, he did not automatically assume it was something malignant. Yūgi knew it too, of course, but as capable as he generally was, he was also endearingly childlike and therefore easily frightened at times, and it required his friends to sort of be his parents for a little while. So Yami decided to begin investigating, and he started with the simple, logical assumption that if Yūgi could not control his own body, then perhaps Yami could. Let me try, then.

Sure enough, when Yami focused on Yūgi's body and tried to make fists of both hands, the hands closed and opened as commanded. He tried to move the arms next, then flexed the ankles and toes. At that point, he felt he could safely report, I seem to be in control at the moment, somehow. I apologize.

Oh. Yūgi's relief was immediate, which was flattering. Okay.

This is a bit odd, Yami noted. I didn't intentionally do that. Here . . .

Yami tried to relinquish control of Yūgi's body, but rather than the usual effortless glide it was like walking into a bog or quicksand, and he quickly retreated from the unsettling sensation. He was aware of Yūgi experiencing a similar discomfort and making the same getaway.

Uh . . . Yūgi said.

Strange, Yami agreed.

They tried a few more times to change places, but it was hardly as though there were forty ways to do it, so Yūgi quickly gave up to the degree necessary to say, I have to get to school! Will you, uh, go for me?

Yami, further flattered by the display of even greater trust, did not mind the request. Of course. He slid out of bed and went to the door, which he cracked open enough to peek out and make sure the hallway was empty.

What are you doing?

Making sure no one sees us.

Yūgi was quiet for a moment. . . . Except that this is my house—the place in which I've lived most of my life. The only other people who should be in this part of it to see me are my mother and grandfather, and trust me, they know I'm here.

Yami rolled his eyes. Whether because Yūgi was not as comfortable saying things aloud as he was thinking them, or because it had been just long enough that he was comfortable with Yami's presence—perhaps even because Yami really could not tattle on him—Yūgi was proving himself to be a rather saucy character; if the stars aligned, he seemed to have any number of dry comments to share about the world. Yami generally found it amusing, as Yūgi did not seem to realize how witty he was, which only made it funnier. But whenever it was turned on Yami it was usually shaded by some level of panic, and that soured it.

Fortunately, Yūgi was more or less used to not always being the one in control of his body so he was not too panicked—he was certainly discomfited by the circumstances, but Yami could understand that given that it was, in fact, his body—and Yami was pleased to have so much of Yūgi's trust. He had not always honored it as he should have, but Yūgi kept giving him another chance and he was doing his best to be worthy of that generosity.

If you see one of them, just tell them "good morning" and keep moving, Yūgi advised. They know I have to go to school, so it's not like they're going to give you the third degree about not spending a year talking to them.

With the reminder that time was of the essence, Yami opened the door the rest of the way and went straight to the bathroom.

Once he was there, however, Yūgi said, Now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think this is a good idea.

You think I don't know how to aim?

It's not that. What if you're actually a girl?

Yami stilled and stared at the wall behind the toilet. Say what?

Souls aren't physical, you know. What if your appearance is only based on mine, and before I completed the Puzzle you were a girl?

. . . Are you serious?

What if?

Yami rolled his eyes again, snorted, and with a yawn went about Yūgi's morning business. It was hardly as though Yūgi could do anything about it at the moment anyway, or that he was even trying beyond being pointlessly hypothetical. Even if I had been a girl before you completed the Puzzle, the fact remains that I have no memory of it. As you know, I have no idea who I am, whether that's my name, age, or sex. But when I think about who I might have been, I don't ever think I may have been female. So I fail to see the problem, given that I identify that closely with the masculine.

I wonder if there's such a thing as self-molestation, and whether this qualifies?

I would presume that's what masturbation is, so it wouldn't. You should relax—you sound tense.

That would follow, because I AM.

Okay, well, I'm done. You survived it. Imagine that. I'm sure the trauma will set in later at an inconvenient moment, but maybe you can use it as an excuse to get out of class early.

While that's a nice thought, I doubt that it'll be a good enough reason as it's neither lethal nor contagious. Speaking of contagions, wash my hands.

You are incredibly bossy, Yami noted, though he obeyed.

Then maybe next time you'll give my body back before you decide to get handsy and sass me.

With a noise of annoyance, Yami tried again to turn over control of Yūgi's body. Again, it did not work, but he did not agonize over it; with Yūgi right there with him, he was sure he could pull off impersonation for long enough for them to find a solution. Even so . . . I wonder why this is happening?

Yami returned to Yūgi's room and got dressed. He then grabbed Yūgi's school bag and went to find some breakfast. While eating, he became aware of the soul equivalent of being tapped on the shoulder and immediately turned over control. That time, it worked. Huh.

Yūgi had some very un-Yūgi-like thoughts about the whole incident, and once he calmed down, said, I've been trying to do that for the past ten minutes and it only just now worked. I don't get it.

Let's not concern ourselves overmuch with it, Yami suggested. We can still interact, so if I have to pretend to be you then we can do that. Let it go for now and we can revisit it later—you should focus on your classes.

Yūgi sighed inwardly. You're right. It's just . . . scary.

I agree that it's not something we should shelve indefinitely, Yami said. Even if there's nothing we can do about it, we should at least have a theory. We don't want to be blindsided by some related issue.

Yeah. Thanks for looking out for me this morning.

It was a small thing to Yami, really—just another slight, voluntary variation on the fulfillment of Yūgi's wish; even if it had not been, it was hardly as though he had more important things to do with his time. Either way, however, as things stood there was nothing in Yami's existence that was more important than Yūgi's health, safety, and peace of mind. No matter how mundane the problem, in the last case.

Always, he promised.

By about the thirtieth time, the situation was entirely pedestrian for both of them. They had determined that while it could happen at any time, it tended to happen most often when Yūgi's body was exhausted; it slept deepest then, which they supposed was how Yūgi's soul sort of drifted away from it and left it available for whichever one paid attention to the outside world first. Similarly, then, it seemed Yūgi's body actually had to be properly awake to facilitate the soul swap; without that, changing places was so difficult as to not be worth the effort.

So when the pharaoh figured out one morning that he was yet again in control of Yūgi's body, he merely yawned and slid out of bed, offered a vague and sleepy "good morning" to Yūgi's mother in the hallway, then went to the bathroom, back to Yūgi's bedroom, grabbed a school uniform from the closet, and put it on. He was going to swap with Yūgi when Yūgi asked him to check the time; when he did, both of them panicked. The pharaoh snatched up Yūgi's bag, bolted downstairs to the kitchen, pilfered a slice of toast from a plate by the microwave, and tossed a frantic "Bye, Mom! Bye, Grandpa!" over his shoulder as he ran to the door separating the shop from the house.

"Yūgi Mutō, are you trying to go to school sick?" Yūgi's mother called after him.

Tell her it's sleep voice! Yūgi suggested quickly.

Obediently, the pharaoh replied, "It's sleep voice!" and then crammed the toast into his mouth so he would not be expected to say anything else. Or at least could distort his voice enough to evade further probing questions about his condition. What's sleep voice?

You know how your voice is rough in the morning because you haven't been using it? That's it.

It so happened the pharaoh did not know, but he still understood the description from what he had heard Yūgi deal with and found it a clever excuse. They were aware the pharaoh's voice seemed a bit deeper than Yūgi's at times because of his greater confidence, but the pharaoh had honestly never given any thought to how they would explain it to anyone. Yūgi clearly had, but that excuse would not work all that well at any other time of day. Not that, granted, most people Yūgi encountered would ever have reason to question the depth of his voice.

The pharaoh yanked open the dividing door to the shop with his newly freed hand, darted into the shop proper, misjudged the distance, and—with the unrivaled skill that only the King of Games could have—accidentally performed the Heimlich maneuver on himself when he slammed into the edge of the counter.

Grace, Yūgi observed.

I meant to do that.

Sure you did. Do it again and I'll be forced to require you to be licensed to operate my body in the future.

The pharaoh managed to get through the rest of the shop and out the front door without turning himself into a one-man demolition team. Outside, he tripped on the curb, but successfully kept his feet under him.

You aren't very good at this.

Quiet, you.

The pharaoh bolted down the streets of Yūgi's customary route, navigating his way to the usual meeting place with Anzu without further incident. She had arrived first and waved a greeting, only to hesitate when she got a good look at him. ". . . Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yes," he promised, aware that she was asking after Yūgi without announcing their unique situation to all of Japan. "It's just been a long morning."

With Yūgi's body clearly awake by that point, the pharaoh would have freely switched places with him, but Yūgi instead offered him the chance to "get some sun." Not against the idea at all, as it was a beautiful morning out, the pharaoh chitchatted with Anzu as he walked Yūgi's body to school.

Do you want to attend my classes?

I don't think so, the pharaoh replied. It was true he had done it before, mostly for personal entertainment, but he generally tried to let Yūgi live as normal a life as possible. I do appreciate the offer, however.

Once in Yūgi's assigned class and seat, the pharaoh stepped back. All was quiet for a few hours, and then Yūgi's distress filtered into the pharaoh's awareness, bringing him instantly to concerned attention.

Everything all right?

My English homework! We left it at home!

The pharaoh thought about it, and could vividly remember seeing papers lying on top of Yūgi's desk. That was not typical; although there were items along the back edge, Yūgi otherwise kept his desk clear. May I?

Yūgi, trusting creature he was, immediately allowed the pharaoh forward. Their friends noticed the change right away, since they were facing Yūgi and had been sharing his distress about his forgotten homework, but they were clearly confused as to why the pharaoh had taken over.

The pharaoh stared at the front of Yūgi's bag, which was sitting in his lap, then—with Yūgi peering over his mental shoulder with wide-eyed curiosity—drummed his fingers on it a few times as he focused on the missing papers and reached out to the Puzzle's power for help. A minute later, his effort successful, he moved aside. Check your bag again.

Yūgi did so obediently, curious, and came out with the homework. He stared at it for a long time, his entire being utterly silent and still. Then:

You could rob banks and no one would ever know.

His voice was hushed and exaggerated with mischievous awe, so the pharaoh only said, Down, boy. It's not quite that simple.

Yūgi smiled, and his happiness and gratitude wrapped the pharaoh in a plush, warm blanket of comfort and affection. Thanks. I really appreciate it.

The pharaoh relished the feel of that blanket, immobilized though it made him. I'm happy I could help.

Souls did not need to sleep, but they could nevertheless be idle and it was somewhat like sleep in that there was no memory of whatever was going on during the idleness. As active as he usually was, even within the confines of the Puzzle, the pharaoh was still very susceptible to Yūgi's emotions and could be rendered idle with pretty much zero effort on Yūgi's part. Which was why he readily left Yūgi's care to Jōnouchi and Honda for the time being and settled into the blanket for some idle time.

You are such a marshmallow, Yūgi teased.

The blanket only got warmer and more plush, though, so if that was going to be his punishment for it then the pharaoh was content to be the biggest marshmallow the world had ever seen.

Answers To Questions You Didn't Even Know You Wanted To Ask:

You may have noticed that Atem is alternately identified as "Yami" in the first half and "the pharaoh" in the second half. This is just to give a very vague approximation of when these events occur in the series' timeline. Also, I went with "Yami" in the narrative because "[the o-]Other Yūgi" is just too big a mouthful in a narrative context as far as my personal literary aesthetics are concerned; I did, though, refrain from using it in dialogue as I consider "Other Me/Other Yūgi" acceptable and preferable there. If that makes any sense at all.

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If you find this fic to be somewhat fine, please take the time to drop me a line!

~RN (LS)