Disclaimer: I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh GX
Title: Stealing Memories
Characters: Juudai, Johan
Word Count: 2,500||Status: One-shot
Genre: Drama, Angst||Rated: PG-13
Challenge: Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, section E, 042: fic that explores memory; Written for GX Non-Flash Bingo, #36, orange
Note: This takes place in a world where Juudai is not the holder of the power of the Gentle Darkness, but the power of the Destructive Darkness. The world also holds some similarities to Dark World. And Johan used to lead a rebellion against Juudai, until his capture.
Summary: It's amazing how such a small thing as an orange can bring back a lifetime's worth of memories. It's not so amazing how Haou will use this to his advantage when it comes to breaking Johan to his will.

Johan kept his eyes closed most of the time when he was in his cell. There wasn't much to look at in here anyway, aside from his cot and the blanket on it. But with his eyes closed, he could remember his childhood and how much fun he and his siblings had had growing up, or times with his friends in the rebellion, when there had actually seemed like there was a chance they could win one day.

His daydreams could never last long, but they gave him something else to do with his mind aside from dwell on Haou, and his mind did that more than enough as it was.

An unexpected aroma filled his nostrils without warning and he looked up. There stood Haou in the cell's door, a basket in his hands. Johan hadn't heard the door open or any footsteps, but that wasn't very surprising. Haou only made such common sounds when he chose to.

Limbs moving reluctantly, but in full knowledge of what would happen if he didn't, he pulled himself off the cot and dropped down to one knee in front of the conquering monarch.

"Haou-sama." He hated saying that so much. But he'd learned under the touch of pain to show respect to his captor, whether he felt it or not.

Haou watched him for a few moments before he moved further into the cell, put the basket down on the bed, and ran one hand through Johan's hair in a too familiar gesture.

"You really are learning well. I'm proud of you, Johan."

A year or two earlier, Johan would've savagely attacked Haou at those words, verbally if he couldn't with his cards or fists. He'd tried it before. Haou won. Haou always won.

He'd learned that, too, under pain.

Haou's fingers slipped down to grip onto Johan's chin and tilt his head upward so their eyes met, pained green-blue to demonic gold. "I've given you a compliment, Johan. What do you say?"

Johan mentally swallowed. His stomach churned. "Thank you, Haou-sama." The words burned like acid on his tongue. But once again Haou approved, patting his prisoner's cheek.

"Such a good boy you're becoming." Haou's smile was a thing of twisted amusement as he reached into the basket. "Now, I have a surprise for you. You've been much better than I expected, and I think you're going to enjoy this."

Johan's heart pitter-pattered in his chest. Those words could mean anything. They likely meant nothing at all good, no matter what.

He could tell the door to the cell remained open, as it always did whenever Haou visited him. He could run for it. He could try to escape. He could try.

Memories of what had happened the only time he'd done that seared through his mind. Haou, leaning against a tree, waiting for him with that horrid, horrid smirk on his face, the press of Haou's skin against his own…

No. No, much better to stay here, and not take that kind of a chance, no matter what.

Haou reached into the basket and pulled out something that Johan couldn't remember having seen in years. Granted, he knew his memory was somewhat spotty these days, with the long imprisonment and torture, but he remained convinced it had to have been at least ten years since he'd last seen an orange, especially one this round and ripe and with such a delicious fragrance to it.

Haou peeled this first one and ate it himself, taking his time to enjoy it. The scent grew stronger as he did, teasing at Johan's nostrils, and the prisoner licked his lips, hardly aware that he did so.

Years; it really had been. He and his family had lived near an orange grove once upon a time. An old woman took care of it, tending the grove with all the love and caring possible. Sometimes they'd helped her, and they always got an orange apiece for it. So many times they'd returned home with that treasure, chatting about what they'd do when they grew up and could buy all the oranges and other treats that they wanted.

When Haou's war broke out and they'd begun to make their way into his territory to see what they could do, oranges were no longer a priority. They became a luxury, something that would be seen only when trade was doing well, and with the passage of time, trade did less and less.

But now, here was an entire basketful of oranges, sweet, ripe, and delicious, all within arm's reach. And Haou chewed his way through one as if there weren't people who would given their very souls for something like this.

That can't be all. He wouldn't come in here just to eat an orange at me. He knew Haou better than he'd ever wanted to. He knew that there was more coming. He knew that he'd never, ever like it.

Tucking the orange rinds neatly away into the basket – heaven forbid he leave a single thing in this cell that Johan could scrape a good memory out of – Haou pulled out another one and looked at it.

"I think you want one of these, don't you?" He didn't look at Johan when he said it. He only turned it over and over in his hands. "I know what you're thinking. I've seen your mind, Johan."

That sent a jolt of fear and shock all through Johan. He knew that Haou had shredded his way through his memories, more than once. What he learned there shaped what he did to Johan, thus why it hurt as much as it did, thus why he knew exactly what to do to hurt him even more. Johan made his own pain and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

For now, he kept silent. If Haou wanted him to answer, he'd tell him. He kept his shoulders stiff and his eyes focused a little to the left, lips pressed tightly together.

Haou traced a finger, still faintly stained with orange juice, up Johan's cheek. "Your siblings. You remember them. You remember being happy because of oranges." He leaned closer. "I'm going to take that from you, Johan. You know I am, don't you?"

A question. It wasn't like the other one, a rhetorical question. This was one he'd had to answer so many other times. He managed not to choke on the answer, mostly because it had worn its way across his tongue so many times.

"Yes, Haou-sama." Because Haou took everything from him that he could and many things Johan had thought that he couldn't. Anything he had now he had only because Haou allowed him to have it. That had been drilled into him to the point he knew when he forgot everything else, he would remember that.

"Such a good boy." Haou's praise sickened Johan.

What sickened him more was the small part of him that enjoyed such praise, that wanted to do whatever he needed to do in order to hear it again.

When Haou was pleased with him, he didn't hurt as much. When Haou praised him, he could imagine a life just a little better than what he had now.

Johan slammed that part of himself back and clung to the shreds of his dignity. He was a prisoner. He couldn't change that, not now. But he could at least be an angry prisoner, even if the anger could do no good.

Orange assaulted his nose and he focused to see Haou peeling the fruit, ever so close to him. It had been a while since he'd eaten. He'd expected a meal sooner or later. He ate decently here; he knew that was part of Haou's methods. Pain was saved for special things. Johan had to eat well to keep up with what Haou did to him. He would accept that. Hate it, but accept it.

He hadn't expected oranges, with all of their memories, all of their deliciousness.

"When I grow up, I'm going to buy all the oranges in the world! They're all going to belong to me!" Rune's voice, a spill of delight, a dance of hope and dreams.

Haou's touch brought him back to awareness of where he was. The overlord held the orange right in front of him.

"Tell me about your family. Your human family." Haou purred, that far too familiar insane smirk on his lips. "Tell me everything you can remember and you can eat this."

Such an innocent request, some might've thought. What did it matter what he told of them? They weren't a part of the rebellion. In all honesty, Johan didn't even know where they were anymore. It wouldn't hurt them at all. What could he do to them, scattered across the world?

But Johan tensed. Johan pressed his lips together. Johan tried to avoid the scent of the orange, flicking his gaze away. Because whether he'd seen them in ages or not, they were his family, and he didn't trust Haou for a single breath.

Haou's fingers rubbed the back of Johan's neck, finding a place far too easily. He didn't press it. If he did, pain the likes of which Johan had become far too familiar with would rack him. He only reminded Johan of what he could do.

"Tell me." It was not a request. The orange wasn't a bribe. It was exactly what Haou said it was: a way to take something else from him.

Johan had had plenty taken. But it always seemed Haou could find something new, something he hadn't yet ripped away.

He swallowed. His throat scraped sandpaper dry but he spoke anyway.

"I have two siblings. We're triplets, me, and Rune, and Yubel. I'm the oldest. Our parents died when we were about ten or so and we spent a lot of time wandering around after that." If he stuck only to the small things, perhaps it would be good enough. Perhaps he could get away with that.

Haou said nothing but the weight of his regard said it all for him: continue. Johan kept going.

"We lived near the orange grove for about four or five years. That was the longest we ever stayed in one space. That was where we all learned how to duel." A small thread of pride wove itself into his words. "I was always the best of them."

Those had been such innocent days, days when he'd never dreamed of dueling as anything other than something to have fun with, when the fact that a dueling circle meant death was only something criminals and assassins worried about. It wasn't a cold hard fact of reality. He'd never even met anyone who knew someone who'd died in a duel.

Haou's hands stroked through Johan's hair, his voice full of genuine praise. "I don't doubt that you were, Royal Executioner."

Johan tensed under the words, but dared not refute them. He couldn't turn down the orders when given them. Doing so would mean worse than pain: it meant the death of the only family he had left. Gem Beasts…

Only when he fought on Haou's behalf could he see his beloved deck and the spirits within. There was never time for them to truly talk, either. They had to fight and kill and that was it.

"Go on. Tell me more," Haou encouraged. Johan drew a steadying breath and kept on, speaking of carefree days and the joy that he and his siblings lived in. Then came word of a war in distant lands and a warlord who would stop at nothing to rule the world.

Again Haou laughed, so amused, so twisted, so evil. "I think I know this part. Some of it."

Johan fell silent again and this time Haou didn't encourage him to keep going. Instead, he brought the orange up to Johan's lips, now carefully cut into slices, and waited for Johan to take it between his teeth.

Flavor drizzled onto his tongue as he carefully took the orange slice and began to chew it. Haou continued to stroke his hair with one free hand, fingers brushing lightly against Johan's cheeks at times, or against the lobes of his ears. Small sparks of pleasure radiated from those touches, partly because of where Haou's fingers rested, partly from Haou's own abilities. His touch could bring pleasure or pain; that was something else Johan knew from far too much experience.

I've been good for him. He won't hurt me today. Johan stiffened for a moment as Haou's hand touched the side of his cheek again and this time wiped off a few tears.

"Silly boy," his captor chided him. "You've got nothing at all to cry about today. You don't want me to hurt you, do you?" Johan wasn't at all surprised to see the dark twist of a smile. "I could if that's what you wanted."

Johan dared not drop his eyes. Haou might take that as agreement. Instead, he shook his head. "No, Haou-sama." Respect, always respect, speak the truth because Haou always knew when he didn't, and never, ever refuse food or water, because who knew how long it would be until Haou chose to bring more. Say whatever was necessary to get fed, to be allowed rest, kill on command because otherwise death would be the fate of the Gem Beasts.

Those were the rules of living as Haou's prisoner. Sometimes he broke them. He couldn't help himself. He suffered when he did. But those times had grown less and less the longer he stayed here. It was just easier to listen and do as he was told.

And it wasn't always bad. When Haou took him out of the cell and brought him to Haou's own luxurious quarters – those times remained seared in his mind as blindingly pleasurable and hauntingly painful all at the same time.

Haou was good at blending the two, bringing Johan to a point where he didn't know which was which anymore and couldn't think at all. That made it so much easier to do what Haou wanted of him.

Again Haou petted and stroked and fed him slices of orange. Moment by moment, everything he'd told Haou slipped out of his mind and he let himself focus only on that seductively evil touch.

"Tell me about your family, Johan," Haou murmured some time later. "Your human family, that is."

Johan blinked a few times, tilting his head to the side. He knew that he'd had one, but no matter how much he scrambled at the memories, he couldn't latch onto a single one. "I don't remember them, Haou-sama. I'm sorry." He flinched, expecting pain for his failure.

Haou-sama nuzzled against the side of Johan's neck. "That's quite all right. I didn't expect you to. Here, have another orange."

Johan accepted the treat gratefully. He hated being a prisoner, but he wasn't going to turn down something so delicious.

The End

Note: Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the story. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible.