Chapter One: Wind and Rain

"I think, therefore I am."

~Rene Descartes

I have no proof of my existence. As dismal as this sounds, I must stand by my convictions. After all, I cannot prove that I am a living, breathing human being. No one can. People believe that they have a concept of reality and think that they are alive, but that is the extent of their philosophical natures. Automatically, denizens of earth assume that they are taking up space in this plane, that they have some sort of divine purpose to achieve. People take living for granted, relying too heavily on their sensory perceptions. Is that all we have in this life, our experiences accompanied by our five senses? Sight, touch, taste, scent sound…is that all that makes us who we are, everything that determines our existence?

A famous French philosopher once said, "I think, therefore I am." He was able to realize he was a real person by coming to the conclusion that, since he thinks, he must exist. Though he displays simple logic, his reasoning is still faulty. How can he prove that he even produces rational thoughts? After doubting that anything is actually valid and true (himself included) in this realm, he tries to state that he exists just because he philosophizes. Am I the only one who has trouble understanding his common sense, or am I too arrogant to grasp the depth of his words?

In the end, I find myself right back at the point in which I started from. Skeptically speaking, I hail all of Descartes previous observations of vacancy and his methods of extreme doubt. Life holds no concrete basis, no abstract or material substances, invented forms, or a solid ground on which to stand on. Like us, like all things, it is just a vague but empty concept that humans never could truly understand.

"Do you really think that, Spirit?"

Glancing up from my random essay, I saw my younger counterpart. Leaning over my shoulder, his purple orbs scanned my freshly written document. Little cherry colored lips mouthed what I wrote, cutting some of my statements short by paraphrasing them. Sighing heavy-heartedly, I tossed the notebook that contained my thoughts to the side. I knew that my hikari wouldn't be very receptive to my theories of non-existence, since he countered my views with his idealism.

Casually shrugging, I fingered one of my lengthy blond tresses. "These are just thoughts, Yugi. Don't take them too seriously."

"How can I not, though?"

"Easy, you can just disregard them."

He shook his head, sheltering his sad amethyst eyes from me. Above all else in life, my high school equivalent hated for me to see him showing any weakness. I could tell that he was hurt, but made no effort to bring my concerned ideas to his attention. The child, though petite in appearance and demure in personality, possessed a fierce passionate spirit. Not wanting to risk damaging his pride, I waited for him to continue the conversation.

Finding the courage to speak his mind, the dainty boy lifted his head in my direction. "It's not that simple, Yami. You can't tell me to just forget what I saw."

"Why not?" I asked, genuinely surprised that he told me what he was thinking so bluntly. "It's like I said, they're some arbitrary concepts that needed to be expelled from my head. You shouldn't think anything of them."

"Do you really think that?" he repeated, gazing at me with huge sad eyes.

"Well, I don't really know--"

"Yes or no?" inquired Yugi sharply, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"Um, I honestly haven't got a clue--"

"Can't you just answer the question?"

My eyes widened upon hearing the unpleasant tone, astonished that my hikari was using such an acerbic tone of voice. Beside me he sat, unmoving and demanding a response to his question. The melancholy quality in his usually passive orbs vanished into cold determination, nailing me to where I was. Seeing that he wouldn't let me leave the premises without an honest answer, I began to pick at the edge of the couch with a ready nail.

"I'm sorry, Little One. I've had that philosophy for as long as I can remember."

"Why?" he asked, his voice a strained whine.

I shrugged sheepishly, not sure of how to answer him. He also had a high degree of sensitivity, too. Anything I would arrive at on this topic would more than likely make him feel bad, so I held my tongue.

Lacing his fingers between mine, he picked my hand up and pressed my palm against his cheek. "I'm real, see? Feel me right next to you?"

Without surveying my response first, I accidentally let my brutal thoughts slip from my lips. "It's just an obscure perception, and I--"

"Are probably being deceived by your senses, right?" sighed the purple-eyed adolescent, regarding me wistfully.

Catching the significance of what I vocalized, I tried to make a lame recovery. "Of course, this is an opinion of mine. You don't have to take it to heart or anything."

Watching his head drop between his shoulders, I knew I should have been quiet while I was ahead. I could tell that I verbalized something that wounded him, but I wasn't sure exactly what part of my speech had. Yugi was like that sometimes, extremely difficult to understand when he decided to have an emotional outburst. Placing the hand that he dropped on his shoulder, I spoke to him in a consoling whisper.

"Tell me what's wrong. I don't want you going through the rest of the day sad or upset."

"How could you?" he shot back, staring at me with watery magenta orbs.

Stunned into silence, I bit down on my lower lip. "What do you mean, Hikari?"

"Here I am, here I've been for the past several months trying to show you there's more to life than some inane theory like that, and you don't even give me a second glance!" spouted the tri hair-colored child, going on the worst tirade I had ever seen him construct. "Do you just not give a care about what I say to you?"

"That's not true, not even a remotely fair assessment of--"

"That has got to be the weakest reply I've ever heard, Yami."

Drumming my fingers on my lap, I let my line of sight drift to the carpet below. "You're right, it is. I'm sorry."

"Like hell you are!" the amethyst-eyed child practically yelled at me, bouncing up quickly from his location on the couch. "You don't care about me, and you probably never will!"

"Yugi, wait!" I cried, standing up to prevent him from leaving the room. "I--"

My response was two seconds too late. The distressed boy had ran from the living area, his hands glued to his visage. Something had gone terribly bad, drastically wrong, but I didn't comprehend exactly what did. Why did he run from me like that? And just what triggered his excited speech? Worn out from the painful scene that just occurred, I fell back onto the piece of furniture I was on previously. Drowsy and in some desperate need of sleep, I stretched out over the cream colored cushions and closed my eyes. In the adjoining bed room, I could hear someone's stifled sobs disturbing the quietness of the house.

"Maybe it's just the wind." I yawned sleepily, drawing my knees up to my chest. "After all, the weather does make sounds like that every once in a while."

Off in the distance, the sound of gentle sadness fell, like a soothing midsummer night's rainfall.