Warnings: Egypt Arc spoilers, obsessiveness, mentions of creative murders. Oh, and makeouts. Kind of. A little. In a way.
Pairing: Yuugi/Dark Bakura
Notes:
1. The majority of the last three paragraphs constitute a drabble by Asuras/Cyanidecoffee, which I expanded on for the livejournal community Yu-Gi-Oh Extend. A lot of other pairing drabbles were written, all remarkably shinypretty, which can be read here: community. live journal ygo(underscore)extend/406. ht ml (remove formatting)
2. The fic is based on the manga continuity at the beginning of the Egypt arc. It's AU in that certain events mentioned here take place the night before they go to the museum, but I've moved the museum trip to a later date; and in that Yu-Gi-Oh! R has vanished without a trace.
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is the creation of Kazuki Takahashi. I claim no part of it as my own and receive no profits from this story.
This bit: "I too am a soul in a Millennium Item. I was sealed in the Millennium Ring for more than three thousand years. I can't do anything without my host's body. So, Yuugi ... I want to go to the afterlife too! When the Pharaoh goes there, so will I." It's an adaptation of a speech Dark Bakura makes in the manga.
Telling something true
He remained crouched on the windowsill once he caught his balance, judging it best to keep his distance. As he smiled at the Pharaoh's host, the spirit of the Ring was biting his cheek to keep from laughing; he needed to sound like he was sincere when he spoke.
"Hello, Yuugi. I thought you might like a visit from a friend!"
"Bakura-kun, get off there!" Yuugi practically attacked, frantically pulling him off the windowsill by his hair and his jacket sleeve. "How did you get up-?" Then he stopped wholly, and was as still as an animal that realises it is being hunted; he stared at the Millennium Ring, surely noting that it was not hidden beneath the clothing the way the spirit's host always wore it.
"How did I jump up here? I used the magic of the Ring, of course," the spirit said, and Yuugi scrambled away.
The spirit spread his empty hands, doing his best to look conciliatory. "I've come to tell you something important, Yuugi. And I ask you to keep calm and in control, because I'm sure the Pharaoh wouldn't listen to me!"
"The other me would be suspicious," Yuugi agreed, frowning. "You've helped me, but you've also fought against me. What do you want?"
The spirit smiled. "You're wrong, Yuugi! Don't you know I've only helped you? Malik controlled me in our last duel. He was truly doing it, even though Rashid was still pretending to be Malik at the time. I helped you win by throwing off Malik's control so I could shield my host from Osiris!"
He could see Yuugi thinking that over, and grinned at the fact that the boy didn't look surprised by what had been said. Yuugi must have wondered about that situation and thought something similar to this lie. That meant that the Pharaoh's host almost trusted him ... and there were wonderful ways to use that. With luck, he wouldn't have to give up the Millennium Eye to make the boy believe they were friends; its power could be a useful trump card when the time came to play the RPG of the Pharaoh's Memory.
"You've explained Battle City," Yuugi said. "But what about the time you first battled the other me? You tried to kill all of us!"
Almost trusted him. "Ah, yes, I remember that. That was when the Ring had recently come to life, as it got closer to the Puzzle. I was sealed in the Ring for a long time before that, as long as your Pharaoh was sealed. I've heard around town that he was also a little crazy when he first got out..."
"He wasn't crazy," Yuugi said indignantly, and the spirit let it go because it seemed to be the only protest the boy could come up with.
"I'm here to help you like I did against Otogi. I'm a quiet friend, Yuugi, but I'm a valuable one. I can show you how valuable if you look at this..."
He turned to the window and was out in a trice, glad to get away from the silly glare on Yuugi's face. It tempted the spirit to show the boy that he was right to be suspicious.
"Hey!" he heard as he straightened from his landing, and looked up to see the boy framed in the window. The spirit gestuaries him to look to the body on the pavement and pushed it over with his foot. Yuugi made a noise of horror, and then gasped. "A Ghoul!"
"That's right!" the spirit called up. "Malik hasn't cleaned up his mess very well; you'll have to get the police to finish the job. This moron must have been after the god cards. I caught him at your window; haven't you noticed it's broken?"
Yuugi gasped again, angry and startled, as he glanced at the window and around his room - then he turned back to the spirit. For a moment they stared at each other, then he said, "Bakura-kun, if you are my friend, can we talk?"
The spirit squinted at Yuugi's face by the far-off light of the street lamp on the corner, wondering if he was imagining the pleading tone in that voice. No, Yuugi looked as if he was desperate to talk to him!
There was gold in such desperation; gold that made seven specific shapes in the spirit's mind.
"I must get my host to sleep!" he called back, hoping that the boy's grandfather was getting too deaf to hear all this shouting. "I'll have to come back another night!"
...
Yuugi's window was fixed but had been left open, although there was a cold wind blowing in from the sea. The spirit's stolen lips twisted into a smirk as he looked up at it, and he leaped.
"Hello, Yuugi," he said, and then saw that the boy was lying in his bed with closed eyes and breaths puffing through slack lips: peacefully asleep.
...He could be killed so easily.
That collar was still around his neck - unsnap the buckle and then the collar could be tightened slowly over his windpipe... Or pull Yuugi up and hurl him from the window that had been waiting so trustingly open. Jam the pointed end of that precious Puzzle into an eye—
"No," the spirit murmured. "No, the Puzzle can only be his ... and it is needed for the Pharaoh and his memories... So."
Yuugi awoke the instant a hand landed on his shoulder. "Bakura-kun? You came!" He scrambled from bed as if he'd been looking forward to this moment for ages - and he'd only had to wait two nights.
"Yes," the spirit said, trying to smile. He had to borrow one from his host so that the presentation was right, nice and friendly. The spirit had watched the Mutou home from a distance on the preceding nights and had seen Yuugi wait by his window until late; it seemed that Yuugi really did want him to return, and the spirit didn't want to jeopardise that by showing too much of what he really thought.
Yuugi had the Puzzle's chain wrapped around his wrist. The spirit recognised this as a compromise that stopped the Pharaoh's protective streak from getting in the way while keeping the Item close enough to ensure Yuugi's safety. This intelligent mistrust didn't come out in the way the boy spoke - his voice held excitement instead: "From what you said when I was duelling Otogi, you know much more than we do about the Items. Would you please tell us what you know? It would be really helpful!"
The spirit considered it in an instant and nodded curtly. The boy's face transformed with delight. "I will tell you, Yuugi," the spirit said. "You can tell it to the Pharaoh."
"But..."
"He'll take too long to convince to trust me," the spirit said. This was a perfect chance to convince Yuugi of his good intentions, and the last thing he wanted was to have it ruined by being forced to talk to the Pharaoh.
Yuugi nodded slowly, glancing at the Puzzle. "I should mention ... my other self doesn't know that I asked you to come back. I told him that protecting the god cards is my duty, and to leave dealing with the Ghoul to me, so he wasn't listening when I asked you to come back ... so he won't bother you."
Perfect. "The deal is done, then." It was easy to smile now. He would gain Yuugi's trust and then tell the boy what he thought best: answer questions with lies, frustrate and misinform him until he'd do exactly what the spirit wanted him to, and think that it was for his own good. Plans upon plans lay before the spirit, and he wondered which path to take.
Sometimes he longed for simpler methods. Even as he spoke with a reassuring and friendly voice, his hands felt so empty that his fingers twitched. He remembered clearly how it had felt a few moments ago to crouch on the windowsill, the edge of the wooden frame biting red lines into his palms, as he tried to keep himself from killing Yuugi.
...
Each meeting was short. It was preferable that the spirit's host did not become aware that his body was doing more at night than he thought it should; he was already fractious about preparing the Memory World game, and it made him difficult to control. Yuugi dutifully had questions prepared every time. It would have made things a great deal easier for the spirit of the Ring if he'd been granted a host so eager to help, but no such luck.
On the other hand, Yuugi got overexcited and asked about pointless details; he apparently thought it would please the Pharaoh to hear descriptions of towns and the royal court, tales of marketplaces and ordinary people. Yuugi's enthusiasm for the useless grated on the spirit - there was nothing to be gained from lying about poultry farming, though he went out of his way anyway to make the Pharaoh sound like the most noble possible leader to everyone from peasants to priest. It would be the kind of thing they could feed their righteous egos on. The spirit had meant to make this meeting, the fourth of their agreement, the last, but found that tonight he was enjoying himself.
Yuugi had managed to focus and ask about something important: the Millennium Items. The odd thing was, the spirit had started answering with the truth and had found himself sticking with it, watching Yuugi's face as the history unfolded.
They are tools of war and judgement, and they brought forth monsters that killed thousands. It is their purpose to enslave the souls of men and women; it's how the Items become stronger. Hate helps, too. Even the priests that held them said that the Items were corrupt with evil and had the ability to corrupt. Almost everyone that wore them died young. It was probably because of the Items; they're good at taking unwilling blood...
He hadn't expected Yuugi to curl up and cry about it. The soft, injured sounds were like a treat.
"It shouldn't be that way!" Yuugi whispered, holding his fist to his chest. The spirit of the Ring looked away after a quick glance, before the urge to show Yuugi how to literally touch the heart ruined his self-control. "He's my other self now ... he wouldn't do those things..."
The spirit leaned back in the chair he'd placed against the wall opposite Yuugi's bed, stretching his legs. He listened to the boy's tears dry up and watched the moon edge its way into the window view; the sight triggered a memory. He judged the information to be useful, and said, "You are the light."
"The...?" Yuugi looked up from his pillow, eyes so red from crying that they looked like raw meat.
"The light, Yuugi. That is what the priests called the Pharaoh's destined host. They knew that those who were bound in the Items would be sent into company with darkness. That fate was bound to turn anyone darker, and so they ensured that the magic would find someone to both mask the acquired darkness and guide the spirit out of it. You're the Pharaoh's saviour and sanctuary; you're his hero."
That would keep the boy anxious to do his duty. That was also what made him want to take the boy's neck and move it this way and that until it snapped, but that desire couldn't be indulged - the Pharaoh was disconnected from him while the Puzzle was not being worn properly, and would not feel Yuugi die as much as he could. It was a meagre revenge besides; it wouldn't really last.
Yuugi sat up, one hand still clenched on his chest. The Puzzle, chain around his wrist as always, rested there with it. The other hand dried his eyes. "Ah ... yes. I must... I must..." He gulped a steadying breath.
"You must not fail," the spirit finished as a parting shot, getting up and strolling to the window. "Well, my host's body really must sleep now..."
"Will you - will you come back? Tell me more about the Items, and everything? I need to ... I must help my other self."
Yuugi was still tearful, and the spirit didn't dare turn around or he would want to bite him until he screamed in a different pain ... still, the sounds of his fear and regret were satisfying. "It would be my pleasure to tell you these things, little light."
...
"I think I can feel it," Yuugi said softly. "What you said about the 'light' ... I can feel it's true."
Typically, Yuugi had found something to smile about while busy sobbing the other night. He stopped looking fondly at the Puzzle and turned to the spirit sitting on the chair. Yuugi had placed it beside the bed for him, this time, instead of across the room by the wall. "And you?" he asked brightly. "Is that how it is for the two of you, Bakura-kun?"
"The hell?" said the spirit, jerking so that the chair legs scraped on the floor. He couldn't help it. He'd been spending too long in this body if his host's nervous habits were starting to control his movements. But this ... it warranted shock!
"What's wrong?" Yuugi asked. He was trying to worm information out of the spirit of the Ring, and he looked surprised by the reaction. They weren't here to chat as if over a light lunch.
The spirit schooled his expression into something less dumbstruck. "That is not in our agreement," he said.
"Agreement?" Yuugi looked surprised. "We never agreed to anything ... we're just talking. Aren't we?"
A shade of the old suspicious look came back to Yuugi's face. It seemed that he was not so amenable as the spirit's host, who'd grown used to actions that came from unspoken contracts, so the spirit said reluctantly: "All right, perhaps there was no agreement. But there is one now. I tell you what you wish about your problems, and you leave mine to me."
"But you said we're friends, Bakura-kun." Yuugi sounded calm and judicious as he spoke, but he was delivering a serious challenge. "Aren't we just having conversations?"
His suspicions had to be calmed. What to tell the brat? "I'm helping you. That is how I'll prove myself. I'm strengthening you, after all, so I don't need to weaken myself by telling you my secrets. All your other friends are still suspicious of me."
Yuugi's challenging demeanour faded instantly, replaced by a look of guilt that surprised the spirit. It turned into that familiar expression, where Yuugi looked as if his sadness was too heavy to bear. The spirit allowed himself to relax.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry." Yuugi seemed to steel himself, then continued softly: "It's just that I - I finally told my other self what you'd told me in our first meeting ... that he'd go away forever. Everyone else just said he'd find his memories and his name, but..."
Why hadn't the wretched boy told the Pharaoh sooner? The meetings had been going on for two weeks! But looking at Yuugi's tragic little face, the spirit realised he shouldn't have been surprised.
"He said that he thought he kind of knew that," Yuugi said softly. "He didn't sound surprised or upset or anything ... just resigned. Then I couldn't ... I couldn't make myself tell him anything else! So for now, you see, until I can tell him, it doesn't really make a difference if I keep asking you about my problems..." His voice died.
Yuugi was an important pawn; misleading him was pretty much the same thing as misleading the Pharaoh, which was almost the same as winning the battle. The spirit sought for something to say that would sustain the illusion of an alliance.
"You were asking stupid questions in any case," he said. This was a good topic; it would distract the boy, and remind him that he was failing in his duty. "You should ask about the purpose behind this situation. Instead you're talking about the desert and people and buildings - there's no use to that."
"I ... thought he'd like to know."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything. Bakura-kun, please ... not now?"
It was the politest he'd ever been kicked out of anywhere, so after hesitating a moment, for the sake of the novelty the spirit did as he was asked and left.
...
He'd made good decisions on that night, the spirit decided. Yuugi had welcomed him when he went back. The boy had decided to share quietly in the Pharaoh's past - "I can surprise him when he needs to know something!" And though that thought seemed to make Yuugi happy, he didn't wear the Puzzle on his wrist anymore; he was distancing himself from the Pharaoh. By forgoing that protection there was implicitly far less distance between Yuugi and the spirit of the Ring. The plan was going perfectly.
Yuugi still slipped in questions about clothes, farm animals, currencies, and so forth, rather than wondering why a spirit sealing away destructive magic would be allowed to leave the world he was keeping safe, and exactly what would happen when the seal went forth into death. But the spirit was distracted from raising these points by what he was learning from these 'conversations' himself.
"You're an idiot." For one thing, Yuugi didn't object when he spoke his mind. "Those stupid questions are to make your other human!"
"Shh! Grandpa!" Yuugi warned.
"He's so old that I don't know how he heard us talking last night." Old man Mutou had heard suspicious noises from his grandson's bedroom, and now the spirit had to sit beside the brat so that they could speak softly; they were on the bed, with squeaking bedsprings broadcasting his slightest movements. "Now listen. Pharaoh doesn't need to know who he was screwing or what he was wearing. I've realised why you're asking these questions, and it's ridiculous!"
Yuugi leaned closer and whispered ardently: "I don't get it. I can't make him human, he already is!"
"He's no mortal!" The spirit snorted. "He doesn't need to know anything about life back then; it's unimportant. He is a spirit, an unending power almost like myself. He wasn't human even when he was alive."
Yuugi cocked his head to one side as if he were a puzzled parrot.
"He was the Pharaoh, the god-king, higher than anyone else could hope to be. And now, human? He wouldn't dream of it!"
"But-"
"I'll tell you what he is. Your little light is guiding an intent. He is stripped of all idiocies and foibles except his truest ones, and in that state even weaknesses are pure enough to be strength. He is a dedicated purpose to achieve one end, and that is why he exists in spite of time, in spite of death! That's what he'll be forever, until he does what he must..."
The spirit's chest hurt, and he reminded himself that for his host body's sake, he had to breathe. Then he returned his attention to Yuugi. "Why are you back there?"
Yuugi peeled himself off the wall at the head of the bed. "Um. Your eyes," he said. His fingers were clinging to the edge of his bedside table, where the Puzzle gleamed.
"What about them?"
"You have three."
The spirit felt the heat of the glowing Millennium symbol on his forehead. Hastily, he coiled the surge of power back into the Ring, and as the Millennium symbol faded he wondered if he could muster up a believable reassurance for Yuugi.
He'd just decided to get one from his host when Yuugi said, "A purpose?" The boy could look uncommonly intelligent at times. "Bakura-kun, I know you don't like to talk about yourself, but ... but you were actually doing it anyway, with that speech. What is your purpose?"
The spirit grinned, knowing it was slightly unpleasant, and mentally awarded the boy a point. "You're right, Yuugi. I might as well tell you my purpose; the thing I've wanted so long..."
Now the boy tilted his head forwards attentively, even if his fingers did not stray from their proximity to the Puzzle.
"Freedom. The priests never intended for me to be a spirit like this." He felt triumphant with his lie; Yuugi looked like he could believe that, and it was probably because, in a limited way, it was true. They had meant to rend the Thief King from his body, and to lock away the darkness from this plane of existence, but had never meant to lock them into one existence in a precious golden curse. "I too am a soul in a Millennium Item. I was sealed in the Millennium Ring for more than three thousand years. I can't do anything without my host's body. So, Yuugi ... I want to go to the afterlife too! When the Pharaoh goes there, so will I."
Dependably, a mention of the Pharaoh's fate troubled Yuugi enough to make him look away. The spirit, satisfied, went to the window.
He got that far, and then Yuugi said, "I'm glad we're having real conversations now."
He could tell without looking that Yuugi was smiling.
The spirit jumped, and at last felt that mental tug he got during the course of every visit, as if he was neglecting something. He knew it was because he left the boy sitting up there unharmed. It was like a test, keeping his goal in sight even as that temptation sat and smiled at him, and he could imagine using his knife to give Yuugi a wider smile.
...
"Reincarnation!" Yuugi announced, the bedsprings squeaking with him as he wriggled closer.
The spirit flinched. He felt he could forgive himself for reacting so obviously this time. "Do we have to sit like this?"
"Grandpa is worried about how much he's heard me talking 'in my nightmares'," Yuugi said apologetically. "But I was telling you my idea! What if you were both reincarnated out of the afterlife, like Kaiba-kun is reincarnated from back then?"
"We will be reborn," he said, "but it could be here, somewhere else in the world, or simply in the next one. It's not as if you have bodies available for us, is it?" He waited for sinking hope to make Yuugi's face crumple, but it did not come.
"So you want to leave this world? And you think my other self does too? He'd be leaving all of us behind! He wouldn't want that." Yuugi's voice was almost scornful, and his look held rebellion. The spirit was surprised into slight fascination. It seemed that Yuugi had remembered that you had to fight for the things you wanted.
"I want to do what I must, what I am meant to, like any spirit," he replied; and because it was the truth, Yuugi couldn't argue with it and looked away angrily. The truth had turned out to be a useful trick.
"I guess you do have to what you have to," YUugi said, though he still held defiance in his voice. "I guess it's fate and the natural path for a soul, and ... he really wants to leave!"
Yuugi curled up. Right there, next to the spirit, knees almost to his chest and staring fiercely at nothing; vulnerable soft parts covered, but in a bad position to defend against a sudden attack...
"Yes," said the spirit. There was that feeling again, where his stolen body wanted something as much as he did. His fingers twitched on their own to get a hold of a pillow to tuck over Yuugi's face.
"What's so bad about staying?" the boy asked, sounding defeated.
It took a moment for the spirit to wrench himself from his urge, and he had to admit, as it was a problem again: "I keep forgetting this stupid body has to breathe." Then he lay down too, legs dangling over the edge of the bed. His middle was next to Yuugi's head so that they formed a T; if he didn't look, he couldn't see the boy. It made things easier.
Yuugi laughed, a yelp of pure surprise. "That's strange! My other self never forgets!" He moved, half-uncurling; using a distraction to push aside his pain as he constantly tried to do.
"It's different when you're focused on duelling or something. Then your body works on automatic. Otherwise, I'm still not used to having it."
"Oh!" Yuugi made a fascinated little sound, and the spirit realised that he was giving secrets away again. In front of Yuugi nothing seemed weak. It was either because he was so small and useless himself, or because he looked on everything as being better than it was.
"I'd better go before your grandpa hears us," the spirit said and bounced off the bed to take a cat-footed leap out the window before a protest could come.
...
He almost hated it, but he went back to that window, and always felt as if victory was a little closer when he saw it was open. He liked being there and walking away with his victim unsuspecting, and he liked waiting for the smile that held no suspicion. It sharpened the thought of how the little face would crumple when the betrayal came. As for speeches about the crimes of the Items, the Pharaoh, and even himself - he'd always liked witnesses; they made things interesting. So there he was again, whispering with Yuugi.
"Sometimes it's weird for me too," Yuugi admitted. "I used to automatically understand that I had to have memory losses, and I slipped in and out of control knowing that everything was fine. I wasn't bothered by anything. But it's getting harder now, and I stumble sometimes when I get my body back, because I can't control it immediately."
"You see? You and the Pharaoh are more separate already."
Even though he was staring at the ceiling as he lay on the bed (their 'T' arrangement had become usual; Yuugi lay down for comfort, and the spirit to stop seeing Yuugi's vulnerability) he thought he could feel the boy looking at him, pleading to take the focus away from that truth. "And you?" Yuugi asked.
"It's not the same for me. I am the demon darkness, and I used to feel that this body is a trap as much as it's a tool." He held up his hands and examined his host's useful fingers: thin, long and scarred, especially over the knuckles. "The strangest thing is that now I like it! Even when I'm in spirit form, I have bits of physical sensations. I feel hungry, tired, and sometimes I feel young. It's strange."
And Yuugi's hair was tickling his elbow, a persistant sensory taunt, and he wanted to hold it by the fistful, hold the boy still and decide what to do.
He found that he did suddenly have the boy's hair in hand; he happened to be slipping the tips through his fingers. It was smooth and warm. "And sometimes," he added irritably, "it's as if the body wants something more than I do."
Yuugi laughed breathlessly, and the metallic whining of the bedsprings told of how he was inching closer.
...
"That's one thing about you," Yuugi said when the spirit thudded onto the windowsill. "You always come back. Even when you shouldn't have." He looked sleepily pleased, beaming as his eyes drooped shut.
"Are you really awake?" The spirit hopped off the windowsill and sidled over to the bed.
"Not quite, Bakura-kun," Yuugi admitted. "All these late nights are taking their toll."
"Not to worry. Soon, we'll all go to the museum to find the Pharaoh's memory, and then you'll have nothing more to keep you up at night."
He didn't give Yuugi time to demur, instead sitting down beside him. The boy lay on top of the bedclothes, head resting on his arms; he tended to wait for the spirit's arrival like that, with his face turned to the window.
"Little light, don't you know that I could kill you like this?" His hand was at the nape of the boy's neck, clenching and pushing down on the warm, skin, hard bone.
"I can put the Puzzle on with my foot," Yuugi countered, and laughed when the spirit stiffened, seeing the boy's toes curled around a loop of the Puzzle's chain that hung off the bedside table.
"It seems the demon darkness is foiled for now." He lay down too; his hand went back to Yuugi's neck, stroking. The boy seemed to like it a ridiculous amount. It was probably because he wasn't all that used to physical pleasures ... and probably also because Yuugi was, as the spirit had come to learn, a very strange boy.
Yuugi's teasing tone had turned earnest when he spoke again. "Bakura-kun, please tell me ... why do you say you're a demon? You're not that bad anymore ... that was in Egypt, and when you first got out of the Ring..."
He thought to himself that he really should calm Yuugi's suspicion. He could say that talking about himself that way was an age-old habit, he could invent stories about curses on the Ring, he could say any number of things, but ... lie? Why start now?
"I am. I am just that bad, Yuugi."
The muscles of the boy's neck curved and clenched under his hand - but it was not a stiffening that betrayed fear; Yuugi only moved to rest his head on the spirit's stomach.
"I have been darkened, and I've hated, and I always will. I will always break and destroy. It is my nature, and it won't change."
Yuugi took his hand; a dry, tired symbol of pity. "'S okay."
He almost laughed. He had the boy, had him completely.
"But if you're always going to like breaking things, then try to remember not to leave more bite marks; they're hard to explain," Yuugi added thoughtfully. They both laughed, so that it was one sound with echoes of a little shame and a little wildness.
...
The spirit had never known such a desperate fool. Yuugi clung to him and his words impartially, grateful for the truths he told and even more grateful when he offered distractions from them; Yuugi wanted both and neither, and also simply wanted.
The spirit had always had a tendency towards an acutely narrow focus. How foolish to have it turn to something so little as the planes and curves of a boy's body; but with his desires transmuted under the sneaking pressures of a teenage body, he no longer had to deny his compulsions. Lately he'd been able to let his twitching fingers do whatever they liked. So he didn't really fight it, and instead took off Yuugi's clothes.
And he sank. Slow, repetitive contemplation threaded through the sensations; it was like a well that was dark and deep, and that felt natural enough that he didn't want to escape.
...
Violets. Funny, how violet and dark smudges are like bruises: those bright eyes and the dark, tired skin under them give the boy a pained look.
Funny, how when he touches the little light, violets and darkness bloom under pale skin.
Funny, how the boy doesn't care.