Remember You
Rating/Warnings: T/Morbid angst
Summary: Yami wants those memories back...he wants what's right in front of him, touching him. He wants what he can't have. AtemxYami. Monarchshipping.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor am I making any money off of it.
Author's Notes: This is perhaps the most perverse thing that I've ever written. I don't know how I feel about it, and hope that you don't hate it and me for trying something like this. Though I've read a few Mobiumshippings (Yami/Yugi/Atem), I've never read a Monarchshipping, and believe that I'm the first one to write it, too.
Mou hitori no Yugi sat inside of the endless corridors of his soul room, just like he did every other night. There was not much for him to do inside of that maze, as it was frustrating always searching for something that wasn't there. Day after day he would go looking for his memories, or maybe even a clue.
But they never came.
He hated the darkness, too. He was darkness, when it came right down to it, and that was why Yugi had named him Yami. However, that did not stop him from disliking or even fearing it when it surrounded and choked him, and refused to let go.
Yami wandered the halls of his soul dungeon one night, just looking. He always wished that something would be different, and that maybe just one trip around his mind would solve everything. It didn't, though, and he always ended up walking, always wandering in a constant state of déjà vu.
Yugi was asleep, tired from his day at school, afternoon at the shop, and evening in the books. Things were normal now, even though the spirit of the puzzle knew that it wouldn't stay that way for long. To tell the truth, Yami was bored. He needed a threat or a challenge, any challenge, to take his mind off of the fact that he really knew nothing.
There wasn't one, though, so Yami wandered, bored, confused, and alone.
He had new memories; memories with Yugi and his friends, their friends, but it wasn't the same. It was as if he was looking through a window at these tales and happenings past, and he wasn't really there.
He wanted something, anything, that he could call his own. He wanted something that he could love and cherish, yet there really was nothing. Yami really did own nothing.
The teenager sniffed a little as he walked through the halls. It was not in his nature to cry, and he seldom did. But that didn't mean that he didn't want to. He wanted to a lot.
Tears threatened his eyes and almost started to fall; that hadn't happened in a very long time. Wanting something was very different from getting it, as Yami knew well, but now he was going to get something that he wanted and loathed more than anything.
The water that demanded to drip down his face.
Desperate to stop it, the Pharaoh started to open every door that he came into contact with. It was always the same, a dark room that would collapse in on itself if he even thought about stepping inside of it. Why would he, though? There was nothing waiting for him, just the darkness. And Yami hated the darkness.
He hated himself, as this mind and stability that he had now was not his own. Someone's personality was based upon past experiences and memories…lessons learned. But Yami had none. None that were truly his, anyway.
He was nothing. The darkness was nothing. And nothing…could have nothing.
Yami soon came to the last door in the hall. He knew that once he opened it and saw nothing there, he would fall to the ground and close in on himself. He'd sleep there, too, dreaming about memories and knowledge that would slip away as soon as he realized that it was there.
He didn't want to worry Yugi by entering his side of his mind, either. He didn't want to plague his Aibou's mind with his dark thoughts, and decided to sleep alone, night after night. It didn't make him happy, but it almost made him relieved that no one had to share this misfortune with him; at least no one was burdened.
Yami was surprised, though, as he opened the door; there was not any darkness. Not the darkness that he was used to. Instead, he saw a room that looked just like the hallway behind him. It was lit by dim candles, and was made from floor-to-ceiling sand brick.
He knew not to get excited, as this could not have been his memories: they were gone. His heart wouldn't stop beating inside his chest, though. He couldn't make it stop.
Yami stepped inside. He was almost expecting the door to close behind him like they did in the horror movies that Jonouchi liked to watch, but nothing happened. He wasn't even sure if anyone was there. He looked around, and saw that the room was empty.
Just like him.
Just as the spirit was about to turn away, though, he felt a brush of cold air. It felt warm when he tried to take a breath of it, and found himself wondering what it was, "Who's there?" He asked, calling out to the sand and stone before him. No one answered, and he turned away again.
Someone was standing in front of him.
Yami blinked, his eyes going wide, but he wouldn't allow himself to gasp. Taking a step back, he stared at what could only be himself.
His skin was tanned evenly, and he was clothed in white cotton; gold jewelry adorned his arms and legs, along with his head. The Millennium Puzzle gleamed around the intruder's neck. He didn't speak, but was able to demand respect with the mere way that he stood.
"Who are you?" Yami asked, but of course he knew the answer. He had to say something; the silence was deafening.
The other wouldn't answer. Only his ruby eyes seemed to say anything, yet the knowledge inside of them were for he and he alone to understand. The man could not speak, and probably wouldn't if he even could.
"Who are you?" Yami repeated, a little louder this time. It was not fair; he knew that these were his memories standing right in front of him, but he could not get this information back for reasons that he didn't even know. Isis had said once that he gave up everything to save Egypt, but if that was so, then why was it right there?
Why was he right there?
"Answer me!" Yami yelled, his voice echoing barely once around the chamber. But no, the other would not say a word. Yami wanted these memories; he wanted them so bad. He wanted to remember and move on; he wanted to recall his mistakes, and not make them again.
He wanted to embrace these lost thoughts and hold them close as if they were the only thing keeping him going. He wanted to love them.
"Please," He whispered, wrapping his arms around himself, "Who am I?" He could no longer even look at the image of the Pharaoh before him. He wanted to hold those memories…he wanted to get as close as possible, but no matter what happened that night, he could not.
Then suddenly, the memories of his former life stepped forward. They were getting closer and Yami backed up, afraid; he could do nothing about it. It was so cruel, that they would keep coming but never translate themselves.
It was so cruel that they were touching his shoulder now as he stood against the wall, no where left to go. They were right there, yet a million miles away, locked in this mute soul that would never speak, never show.
It was torture now, that this Pharaoh leaned over and breathed right on Yami's lips. That air could be used to say anything; it could say that the memories missed Yami too, and that they wished that they were back where they belonged and used, not flying around in Purgatory, chaotic and forgotten. But it would not.
That breath could hold Yami's name, so that he was no longer nothing. But it could not.
It was even crueler that these memories, this thing, raised the hand on his shoulder to Yami's cheek and stroked it gently, as if saying to wait just a little longer. It was saying that Yami would get these recollections back, but for now he would be forced to walk this world using stolen thoughts and information, talking to people that he didn't deserve to know.
The most terrible, though, were the soft lips that ghosted over Yami's own for a fraction of a second, reminding him that he didn't remember if he loved anyone before. It forced him to realize that he didn't love right now, not enough to kiss them.
And because he didn't, it might have meant that there was someone special in his memories, someone that was already dead and gone. Someone that Yami couldn't go after because he had no way to leave this earth.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Yami asked, his voice barely audible, before leaning forward himself and kissing those lips back. He wanted these memories; he wanted what he was touching, tasting, but couldn't keep. He wanted those words on the tip of the other's tongue, and the matter that made him up.
That was Yami's, and Yami's alone.
But he couldn't have it, and it was made obvious to him as he tried to pull the Pharaoh, the real Pharaoh, closer to get just a little more contact. Yami was desperate for that contact, desperate for something solid to hold onto that wouldn't slip away just as it was in his grasp. He wanted to hold onto those fleeting thoughts that ran away in his dreams, daring him to come closer while he was chained to the present.
But he couldn't, because it was not his time. And it killed Yami to know it; it killed him to know that the one thing that he truly wanted, was out of his reach. The spirit never wanted anything other than Yugi's happiness, and now that that was obtained, wasn't it time for him to be happy?
It wasn't, though, because the other pulled away, just staring with those eyes that held everything that Yami wanted to remember. He looked at Yami with ruby irises that contained everything he couldn't have.
And then he was gone, dissolved into a mist that felt cold and warm at the same time, as if it was winter soon-to-be spring. It floated throughout the room, around Yami's body. He relished in the feel of what he knew to be his, and wished that it would stay. For a split second, he felt more complete than he ever had before, and he wanted it to stay with him forever more than anything.
But soon it dissolved, too, and Yami was left in this stone room alone, exactly as he had started. He stared at the corridor around him, and felt those tears prickling again at the corners of his eyes. Once more, though, he refused to let them fall. He had no right to.
Even though what his memories had just done to him was crueler than any torture that he could come up with, it was just a little bit of comfort. His memories were still there, somewhere in this maze. They wouldn't let him find them, either, until the time was right.
Until it was really time for him to die and join the people that he had grown up with, once and for all.
But until then, even though Yami was still alone and still cold without the warm presence of his memories, at least he knew that they were there.
At least he wouldn't be lonely forever.
Yami slid down the wall and sat on the sandy ground, looking around at the dim candles that would burn as long as he was still aware. He closed his eyes, knowing that this was where he was going to sleep until his time really came.
This was where he felt the safest, and this was where he felt the fullest.
Even if it still wasn't enough.
Author's Notes: See how...odd that was?
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