A/N: I don't write romances. Did I mention that? Because I don't....that's 'cause I'm a cynical bitch. *grins* So, here I am, writing my only slashy-but-not-a-romance story. Now keep in mind, I speak English, French, and Sindarin. Not Japanese. So I've left out a lot of the Japanese sayings that other authors have. I've also taken 'fanfic authoress liberties' with Malik and the canon as a whole. And read 'Slave' by Silvara Maxwell first to understand this. It's my version of the sequel, since she has one in the making. And be sure to leave her a review! Lazy readers are awful.

Disclaimer: Not mine. No, really, it's not. Not Yu-Gi-Oh! And not even the story from whence (whence...hehe, I love Lord of the Rings) this ficlet came from.



Bonded

I stay up at night and study the young mortal beside me. He seemed so pure when I first noticed him.... No, he still does. With the moonlight spilling in through the large windows and pouring across the carpet, Yugi is ethereal and peaceful.

So unlike me. It's ironic that I should be the one on the lightest half of the bed. That I should be the one to cast the shadows on his face, rather than the other way around. He ought to be the Dark half of us, for darkness is deceptive, like my aibou.

Me? I am lost. I am naive. And that is why I love him. He is my soul, in every sense of the word; what I lack, he has mastered. He owns me.

I'm up before Yugi's new noise maker can go off. I still don't know how to turn it off, so I pretend to be annoyed by it and gently nudge Yugi awake. "You have to get up." Someone ought to hire me as an actor.

"Mm..." he slaps one of the buttons, lies around for a bit and then gathers some clothing and stumbles off to the bathroom.

I hate myself for missing him. I hate the desire to follow him. I want to hate the gentle smile on his face when he returns to his room to gather his school supplies.

He looks up at me. "Are you coming with me to school today?"

I nod. "Of course, aibou."

The silence of the Puzzle is smothering, even though I can hear what is going on around us. The voice of the teacher; Joey's snoring; the light scratching of Yugi's pencil across a piece of paper. But inside here it is quiet, and I idly begin to play with the colors of my soul room.

/Yami?/

My heart skips a beat at his soft voice. //What is it?//

I can picture his frown as he picks and chooses which words to use with me. I wonder, though, why he is being so careful. /Is something wrong?/

I force myself to yawn, to make what I say believable. //No, nothing. I am bored, I suppose. Don't worry about me. You ought to be studying.//

I hear his pencil move around some more. /Bakura has an idea for us after school.../ his voice is seductive, but I shudder in revulsion. I manage to keep my reaction well hidden from the other mind. I couldn't stand to have Bakura's hands on me again. At least not today. The mere thought of Bakura touching Yugi sickens me. The knowledge that my aibou welcomes the white-haired teen torments me.

Now it's my turn to choose words carefully. //I don't think I'll be able to join you two.// I don't have an explanation for him, not one that wouldn't hurt him, so I don't offer anything more.

/Why not?/ He sounds hurt anyway, and I feel the twinge of concern through our 'bond'.

//I'm tired, aibou.// I was going to say 'I have a headache' but from what Tristan says that's a classic way to get yourself into an argument. It's called 'the oldest lie'. Apparently it's not as old as me, or else my wives were just too afraid to tell me when they didn't want to bed with me. Besides, a headache? I'm dead. By rights, I shouldn't be capable of pain.

And yet I am. It's one of the many things Yugi has changed about me.



I go for a walk after Yugi has wandered off with Bakura. I find my eyes are trapped somewhere near my feet; I'm slouching, and my hands are jammed down into my pockets. It's disgusting. What would my mother have said? My father...? I know what he would have done, had he ever really taken the time to notice me. He would have slapped me, straightened me up, and sent me off with a nursemaid or a tutor.

Time was something he never had enough of, and it ran out when he was eighteen. I was only three, but I remember seeing the knife sliding up under his ribs. I still remember the smirk on that traitor's face. Then I had screamed, and as I sobbed the palace guards ran in. They were too late to save my father, but just on time to take the head of the assassin and display it for my mother.

My time ran out not when I was seventeen and sealed away into a Millennium Item, but when I realized I loved Yugi.

"Hey, Yugi!" I turn, knowing full well that Joey has mistaken me for my Light. As he runs up, he realizes this as well. "Oh, sorry. Thought you were Yug. Where is he, anyway?"

"With Bakura." I turn to walk away, but Joey wants to keep talking.

"Oh. Thought you'd be with 'em."

"Hm. Why are you looking for him?" If I'm not his lover, I may as well be his secretary.

Joey shrugs. "I wasn't really, I just saw you and thought I'd say hi. Did you have a fight or somethin?"

I shake my head slightly. "I'm tired." Only the fact that I'm going for a walk if I'm so exhausted doesn't make sense. Oh well.

Joey grins devilishly. "I see."

I want to smack him, but restrain myself. "Do you want to join me?" It seems like the polite thing to ask a friend of Yugi's. I didn't expect him to accept my offer, but he does. Stupid unpredictable mortal.

I lead the way to the busier side of town, mostly because there's more to see there than what the high school field had to offer.

"Jeez you're quiet!"

"I apologize."

Joey laughs. "Don't apologize! Lighten up, will ya? I didn't think Yugi's alter ego would be so uptight."

"I am not his alter ego," I whisper.

"What?"

"I am not his alter ego!" I yell this at him, and it stops him in his tracks. I hastily walk on.

"Are you okay?" It's been a few minutes, in which Joey thinks I've cooled off.

Yugi no longer bothers to block off his feelings from me. I know what he is doing...what is being done to him. I cringe, and close the bond. Joey's eyes are worried as he stares at me, hand on my shoulder. "It really...bothers you about them, doesn't it?"

"You don't understand..." my voice is no more than a whisper.

"Yeah? Maybe I do." His voice is still confident and cheery. I glare at him, feeling mocked although a part of me knows that's not what he's trying to do.

"No, you don't! You?" I laugh scornfully. "How could you? Even if you shared the feelings that I have for Yugi, you would still be a stupid mortal. You would still be here, destined to *die*, and you would have the comfort of knowing that Yugi would mourn *your* passing!"

Joey's hand is uncomfortable on my shoulder; he clearly doesn't remember that it is there. For a moment, I imagine sleeping with him, letting Yugi find us as I found him and Bakura. But I know that my aibou would only be happy for me; he'd be glad that he and Bakura would no longer have to split their time with me. So instead, my fist meets Joey's lips instead of my mouth. His lip splits between his teeth and my knuckles, but my hand is unharmed. I'm dead. Only Yugi can hurt me now. Joey falls back, bleeding, onto the sidewalk. I run across the street and into the busy crowd.

I have no intention of going back to the Moto house. I don't have anywhere else to go, but on the other hand, I don't need anywhere at all to go. I turn down one of the side streets and pass by dozens of little, struggling shops. I become aware that someone is watching me, which is strange because I know I'm alone.

I tap into my Shadow magic and try to pinpoint exactly where my stalker is. Out of the shop just to my side, a slender figure steps out and I nearly jump.

Malik smiles, a vicious expression on him, and moves ever closer to me. I am not in the mood for a battle, but I will never give him any ground, so I turn to face him and wait until he is inches from me.

"Care for a duel, or are you too busy sulking?" The dagger-edge of his Millennium Rod brushes the chain around my neck. I knock it away as if it were a fly.

"I don't have time for you."

"As I thought. Pathetic. Always lost in your own world." His eyes are still locked on the Puzzle.

If Malik were an ordinary opponent, I would take him up on the challenge. A duel would probably help to clear my mind. But Malik is not ordinary, or even sane. I'd be wise to run, except that I have even more power than he does.

"So that we can wager on what is rightfully mine?" I sneer at him. "If you come up with something less predictable, I may consider wasting my time with you."

Malik's hand flicks backwards from where I had knocked it, so fast I could barely see him move. Involuntarily, I take a step backwards. If I had been joined with Yugi, it would have cut the boy's throat.

Malik laughs. "Idiot. Fine. I have a wager that even you will find interesting. If I win, we take down Bakura. You will protect your precious host, and I will get the Ring. If you win, you go on your dismal way and cry yourself to sleep tonight while I go get drunk."

Now he's managed to surprise me, somewhat, as well as anger me. "I accept. Let's duel." I reach for my cards.

"No." He lifts the Rod, just a bit. "Puzzle, turn the piece that was polluted to my control. Bend this spirit's mind to my will; make him mine. As I will, this you shall do."

I have to rethink the notion that only Yugi can hurt me. As Malik finishes speaking, everything inside of me rebels, turning in on itself as if I am being devoured. The world becomes warped; colors bleed together and fade, until all is grey and black, and shapes are meaningless.

Malik's voice is distorted when he speaks. "Before we kill him, I'll be sure to thank Bakura for polluting your Item, Pharaoh."