Aishiteru, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

Disclaimer: If I actually OWNED Yu-Gi-Oh, I wouldn't be sitting on the computer and writing fan fics, now would I? I think not.

This is nothing really. Just a stupid idea that came to me while listening to Wait And Bleed by Slipknot, Lies by Evanescence, and Down With The Sickness by Disturbed; this fic reflects on how I feel as of now, and I used some lyrics (which I do not own) from the songs I love most that would best describe my emotional state right now. Remember kiddies, flames make the orphans and Rockinmuffin cry, so please be gentle; or use constructive criticism when, and if, you review.

Inspired by CERM's fic Je t'aime, so please bestow your thanks on her, not me.

I've felt the hate rise up in me

Kneel down and clear the stone of leaves

I wander out where you can't see

Inside my shell I wait and bleed

I've felt the hate rise up in me

Kneel down and clear the stone of leaves

I wander out where you can't see

Inside my shell I wait and bleed

I wipe it off the tile, the light is brighter this time

Everything is 3-D blasphemy

My eyes are red and gold, the hair is standing straight up

This is not the way I pictured me

I can't control my shakes!

How the hell did I get here?
Something about this, so very wrong

I have to laugh out loud, I wish I didn't like this

Is it a dream or a memory?

Wait And Bleed – Slipknot

Drowning deep in my sea of lonely

Broken your servant I kneel

(Will you give in to me?)

It seems what's left of my human side is slowly changing... in me

Looking at my own reflection

When suddenly it changes

Violently it changes

Oh no, there is no turning back now

You've woken up the demon... in me

Get up, come on get down with the sickness

Open up your hate and let it flow into me

Get up, come on get down with the sickness

You mother get up

Come on, get down with the sickness

You fucker get up

Come on, get down with the sickness

Madness is the gift, that has been given to me

I can see inside you the sickness is rising

Don't try to deny what you feel

(Will you give in to me?)

It seems all that was good has died

And is decaying in me

(Will you give in to me?)

Down With The Sickness – Disturbed

Bound at every limb by my shackles of fear

Sealed with lies through so many tears

Lost from within, pursuing the end

I fight for the chance to be lied to again

You will never be strong enough

You will never be good enough

You were never conceived in love

You will not rise above

(Chorus:)

They'll never see

I'll never be

I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger

Burning deep inside of me

But through my tears breaks a blinding light

Birthing a dawn to this endless night

Arms outstretched, awaiting me

An open embrace upon a bleeding tree

Rest in me and I'll comfort you

I have lived and I died for you

Abide in me and I vow to you

I will never forsake you

Lies – Evanescence

"Talking"

Thinking to oneself

("Whispering")

"People on T.V."

"Emphasis"

"And, tomorrow, there will be a light drizzle approaching us sometime in the early evening; until then, we are experiencing an unseasonably early snowfall, along with freezing rain, so citizens on West Domino are advised to stay indoors. Now, back to our scheduled broad-"

Sighing, my index finger pressed down on the power button on the remote control, thus silencing the bothersome weather woman with the strained, tiring voice, watching the television screen flicker with snow for a brief moment and then I stared back at my unlikeable reflection on the blackened and blank thirty-six inch wide screen; in my frustration, I had tossed the remote aside, hearing the dull thumping noise it made as it bounced across the lilac satin surface of the couch before it crashed into the antiquity of a statue resting serenely on the nightstand to my left; shards of the now demolished and formerly priceless statue lay strewn across the carpet; Ishizu would no doubt lecture me on respecting valuables that had once been the property of the Pharaoh once she returned home, but at the moment I didn't really care much for trivial matters.

I sighed, again, my lips pulling apart as a loud, abrupt yawn echoed dully across the living room, then I rubbed my heavy eyelids with the back of my hands to try and erase the sudden exhausting state that had possessed my mind and body, pausing to run my hands through my hair, feeling the blonde edges tickling my tanned complexion; getting to my feet, I stretched, raising my hands high in the air, hearing my legs cracking just a bit due to my stiff body was still in the attempts of standing properly.

Once I was standing upright again, I leaned backwards at an impossible angle to catch the current time, my lips set to a tremendous frown seeing that it was three a.m.; now I knew for certain that Ishizu and Odion wouldn't be back until sometime later on, but that was fine with me, since I was no longer a child who needed protection and could manage well on my own.

Over time, roughly about six months prior, I noticed my persona – the one I had partaken on when I first came to Domino City – had, to a respecting extent, returned and shed its comforting shell of spiritual flesh over me, although I no longer used this 'false self' of mine to weave a deceptive web of lies, to drag whosoever I desired to be caught within my cocoon of impositions, led like a puppet on a set of invisible strings with a malevolent puppet master controlling its every movement.

Not only that, but I also began to notice a more foreseeable change in the way I acted around the person sleeping without so much as a peep in the next room, and of course, the same could be said for her as well; after being convinced that I had been redeemed, and it had taken well over three months before she finally realized that my dark half would never return, but her lukewarm personality had dissipated somewhat, and she was now less cold, temperamental, and untrustworthy.

Now she was more fervid, more loyal, respecting, and passionate then I could ever recall her being.

I tussled my blonde mass of hair whilst abandoning the living room, my legs automatically guiding me down the narrow hallway elaborately decorated with shadows, allowing light to seep in through the window on the far right side of the window in sparing places, causing the nocturnal darkness to appear to dance whimsically upon the honey golden surface; the hand once negligently tussling my hair ceased in mid-stroke, leaving my blonde bangs sloppy and unkempt, then slowly eased nearer to the brass knob, my fingers tensing just a bit feeling the cold metal against warm skin.

Gripping it in a firm hold, I turned it and slowly pried the bedroom door ajar enough for it to creak eerily; peering inside, my eyes drifted across the shadowy room, sensing a smile tugging at my lips seeing that it was just like the hallway; dark and cold, and beholding a foreboding aura, but not spiteful enough, or repugnant enough, for me to want to leave.

After all, my dark half had nearly succeeded in banishing me to the realm of eternal darkness, and I wasn't prepared to feel threatened by a force that had dominated the world since ancient times; if I had been so unfortunate as to virtually being thwarted by a demon that I had created out of my anger and hatred, only to turn the tables on him, then I had been fortunate to live and tell the tale to her.

I felt no obligation to leave her to her lonesome.

She had gone off to bed what seemed like an eternity ago, not bothering to remove her wet clothes and don some warm, more comforting, layers, entering her temporary residence after coming in from wandering aimlessly about the city despite the overbearing downpour of rain, frigid winds, and crisp winterly air.

Her body dripping endless droplets of freshly fallen rain on the polished floor, her dark hair saturated thoroughly with freezing water, her muddy footprints marking the path she walked on as she went inside the room we shared on occasion without so much as a 'hello', some other formal greeting, or without telling me of her whereabouts and what she had done or seen... for what reasons I had no idea.

My face lit with mischievous delight, I carefully tiptoed towards the side of the bed she lay (on the bottom left side where I usually slept), fully intent on rousing her from her deep slumber just so I could further irritate her some more, but stopping dead in my tracks, losing the childish mirth when I saw her pale features twitching, convulsing, taking on a horrible mutation of the distinctive blank, yet serene, expression she usually wore as she slept; my lilac eyes scoured the full length of her, noticing how the moonlight pouring in from the window just above her seemed to caress her small form similar to the way a mother would touch her newborn child, supple and loving.

Her frail and dreadfully delicate face that would shed blood with even the most discreet of slashes recurred with taking its alien, almost demonic, otherworldly hold on her; cold sweat dampened her narrow cheekbones crudely, permitting her dark hair to skewer onto her face, eyes closed tight enough to make one secretly fear they would implode from the inside-out, and her blood would splatter the walls and floor.

In sleep she made a whimper, strewn with unimaginable sorrow and internal agony, and shifted a little, turning on her side so that she was facing me while making another whimpering noise, sounding very much like a wounded animal wishing to be released from its misery; she murmured incoherent words, the bed making miserable creaking noises as she shifted once more, then laid perfectly still, but with her legs drawn up to and hugging her chest, thin arms wrapped fully round proportionate inane thighs, her head buried in between her knees.

I frowned for the second time tonight, seeing this both startled and worried me; she only slept in the fetal position if there was something amiss with her emotionally, or if there was something else that disturbed her, but I knew she would never tell me what kept her from getting hardly any sleep for these last few days; she never shared her pain with anyone unless she truly wished to do so, or if she could no longer bear the mental or emotional burden on her own.

Often would I stumble upon her lying in this very same position in her self-proclaimed 'Blood Closet', and find that the healed scarring that was scattered across her body – mainly on her left shoulder and ankles – was reopened and bleeding lightly; a hunting knife her grandfather had given to her clutched between her trembling hand, staring blankly at me, and revealing little – if any – emotion as she did so.

Now those recently healed wounds was tinged with a pinkish-red hue, showing how slow she had grown through her teen years, but how quick any wounds she may have once had eventually disappear, never to be seen again. Now, however, the damp t-shirt she wore was loose-fitting and slipped down well past her shoulder, revealing three initials: I, a, and an n.

"I am nothing." That's what she told me these letters stood for; she believes it's all she ever was, and all she will be; nothing; worthless; that she means nothing to nobody, and that no one of the opposite gender will truly care for her for being herself.

Gingerly my fingers traced the initials thoroughly, the darkening, grim smile etched into my face quickly became more undiscerning, insidious, feeling the rough edges of the trio of small lacerations rubbing sinisterly against the pads of my fingers and, because I had done this to her, she gave a subconscious sob in return, tears which threatened to fall down and trail her cheeks dabbing from behind her eyelashes.

("M-Malik... help me, please... oh god, please help me... Malik, please...")

I blinked, abashed in feelings of confusion and shock; are you dreaming of me or, perhaps, him?

Now I knew just what it was that restrained her from receiving the required amount of sleep for a while; she was having a nightmare, and sometimes they would get so bad that it would take Lolly, Chelsea, Ryou, Bakura, Maria, Katie, Yugi, Yami and I altogether just for her to wake up; other times, however, when none of them were here to help me relieve her from whatever terrors that had bond to her, I was forced to try and compel her to awaken, and yet – just like so many, many times as before – her faint, imploring sounds of fright, of utter panic, began to heighten at a steady pace.

I stood there, watching while she continued to whine miserably in her sleep, frigid beads of perspire dribbled down past her brow and trailed along the side of her cheekbones, and I silently wondered to myself whether or not to call them for assistance; a few moments of pondering this matter, I chose to disregard it, for I had dealt with her countless times before in this situation more times then I cared to remember; after all, surely I was capable of rousing her from whatever nightly demons that stalked her in the land of dreams, and so I would not need them to lend a hand this time.

Inwardly the shame, guilt, and self-loathing was already coursing throughout my entire body for what I was going to do, but there was no other option; it was either force her to wake up, or let her wake up on her own and, for another day, I would wind up having to deal with a malaise, angst-ridden nineteen year-old bent on one day causing her own destruction.

Pushing the regretful sensation tightening in the very core within my chest aside for the moment, I gently eased myself onto the bed and reached to cup her shapeless cheek in my right hand once I was close enough, my left hand snaking to steady myself as I leaned down, fingers gripping the satin bedsheets, my lips just barely grazing her earlobe; licking my mouth to give it proper moisture, and in turn trimming the inhumanly icy flesh it descended upon, my voice piercing and mordant while whispering to her.

("You vile creature, be gone from this mortal plane. Cast yourself free from the brittle chains which bind you, and don't you dare look back; have no regrets, and take your dearly departed and beloved grandfather's blade to your wrist; no one will care, so go ahead and free yourself. You are no one's loss, no one will care if you take the knife to your arm and puncture an artery or two, it won't matter if you were to gut out the innards of your stomach, and I'm sure not one sole person alive will think twice upon hearing of your passing; you may think they will care, but you are dead wrong, so very wrong. Such a disrespectful, whiny little wench you are, you poor narrow-minded girl. You go about your daily life and do as you please without a care or worry on your mind, you filthy, filthy, filthy, filthy, despicable whore.")

She whimpered, barely managing to stifle a heart-wrecking sob whilst her small, frail self shivered violently as though she were being shaken, but I had to continue bombarding her with the most virulent of words, of insults, of the most degrading, unspeakable mockery; it was all I could do to wake her, no matter how ravaged my emotional state would be afterwards, and so I did; deepening my voice to rival that of the demon who had once inhabited my body, my tone laced with poisonous sadism.

("Just look at you, take a good, long and hard glance at yourself, and see you for how you truly are, yet you are blind, but I see now how one such as you can feel no hatred for others, and only yourself; you were an unwanted child; a blasphemous and dreadful, pitiful life, a terrible waste of flesh; you were an outcast since you were born, meant to be shunned and ridiculed for the rest of your pathetic life. What a sad excuse for a human you are, you accursed woman. Why did I always let you triumph whenever we argued; why do you always have to be the one to feel victorious? You atrocious, ungodly slut, you pretend to care for others by putting their wants and needs above your own, but that's not how you really are, is it; the real you is trapped somewhere inside this shameful cocoon you call a body, but you don't want to let her out... isn't that right you unchaste bitch, you impure lost soul?")

I paused, considering how I would lean in and whisper the most damaging words to her; feeling ashamed of myself already would only make matters worse, and so, leaning in further and pressing my lips hard down on her ear, I growled and spoke four words in the most darkest and loathsome tone imaginable. ("Hon'in daikirai omaesan, Sharon.") (1)

I blinked once, twice, thrice, shocked at how natural the spiteful, hating words seemed to come from me, like I had thought and viewed her in the same light and manner as I was describing her for ages, but I shook myself out of my tranced stupor, narrowing my eyes in disgust at the nerve-wrecking words I used to describe her and seeing that she curled up into herself even tighter now; still balancing myself with my left hand, I brushed three lofty, dark, sweat-stricken bangs away from her eyes, I grasped her bony shoulder and shook her gently, my hand leaving there occasionally to slap her face as merciful as possible.

"Sharon... Sharon... Sharon... Wake up... You're dreaming again... Wake up, Sharon..."

She groaned, sounding, and looking, so very tired as one eyelid was lazily propped open slowly and then the other, her multicolored sights were dilative then regaining the gentle flicker of humanity while staring at me through half-lidded eyes; her hair was still matted to her plastered-with-cold-sweat face that was conflicted with fatigue, confusion, fear and shock all rolled up into a dismal package.

("Malik-chan...") She whispered, fear tinted about her words, sounding and looking the part of a frightened adolescent.

She gasped, still sounding very scared, then literally leaped up from the position on the bed, flinging her thin arms around my waist and burying her face in my chest as she began to cry silently.

("Oh Malik, the nightmare it was... was just... horrible... your dark half, Marik, came and he said that he would make me suffer many unfathomable things, but then you came, and I was happy that you did at first because I thought you were gonna save me... but, but you... you said...")

She paused, barely holding back a shuddering sob which she nearly choked on, clutching the sides of my shirt in a panicked, half-mad desperation as if I would disappear if she let go; after a few moments of watching her as she got back her former composure of sorts, she lifted her head and stared back directly into my eyes and I stared back at her, seeing her sights lustered with oversensitivity and dither, unshed tears making her glazed eyes all the more cheerless and pitiful, and yet she still held onto me.

("What did I say to you, Sharon, that would make you act like this? Come on, don't be like this; I don't like to see you cry, so tell me what I told you in your nightmare... please.") I conveyed to her in a hushed whisper, reaching down and cupping her lightly flushed cheeks in both my hands, locking eyes with her once more, cracking a faint, reassuring smile as I did so.

She swallowed hard, her voice hesitant and barely audible when she began to speak again. ("You said... you told me that... that you hated me... Malik, is it true? Am I really so worthless that not one person can feel something for me? Nothing at all...? Was I born just to hate myself for being hated?")

Still smiling, I brought my lips on her forehead, leaving behind a faithful kiss behind; leaning away, I looked down at her, my smile widening just a bit so that a sympathetic grin was etched unto my tanned features now when she smiled, though faintly, in return.

("Aishiteru.") (2)

(1) Hon'in Daikirai Omaesan – I hate you (in direct to a woman)

(2) Aishiteru – I love you