Mistaken Perceptions: The Fic

Disclaimer: The characters belong to their respective owners and the poem to DarkGatomon.

"Mistaken Perceptions"

by DarkGatomon

His eyes so hard
His mouth so cruel
The wild flair of his hair
My soulmate
My other
My hidden self
Oh, if they only knew!

They pity me,
Those other ones,
Who think I'm as I appear --
Innocent
Virtuous
Different from him...
The one that shares my soul.

But no, I'm not
I'm just like him
I know I'm cruel at heart, too
I'm angry
I'm vengeful
I can but try
To stay under control

And if it breaks
I do not know
What awful things I would do
I can't think
I won't think
I won't admit
Who I would become then.

But even now
I'm dark inside
I have no hope anymore
I am lost
I am cursed
I should just be
Left alone to my doom.

They think I'm kind
And warm inside
But I know they see just lies
In my eyes
In my heart
They only see
Their mistaken perceptions.

Summary

Yami and Yugi are the protector and the protected. The darkness and light. Ryou and Bakura however, have quite a different relationship. Based on Dark Gatomon's poem "Mistaken Perceptions."

They think that I am different from my yami. I'm not. They cannot see the truth before their noses, preferring to cast me into the mold that Yugi and Yami have already created. I do not fault them for it, preferring to stick to more important things.

Such as the Puzzle.

The Sennen Puzzle holds immense power, drawing it to me like bees to honey. I understand why Bakura is obsessed with gaining it, but I prefer to do it the more subtle way. Brute force only works with bullies.

On the other hand, I fear the strange fascination I have with the Sennen Items. I don't want to become like my yami, bloodthirsty and power hungry. I simply want. . .

. . .I don't know what I want anymore. Before I wanted love, someone to love me and take care of me, as well as power. Now. . .

. . .I don't know.

I know many things. I know that Yami and Yugi are together secretly, that Seto and Jou have secret crushes on each other, I know everything about my friends. But what I don't know is what I want.

Pathetic, isn't it?

My yami thinks that I'm his weak little hikari. He's partly right, but mostly wrong. I don't consider myself weak, I'm just not physically strong. I am a hikari, but do hikaris thirst for killing and power? No, I didn't think so. As for little, okay, yes, I know that I'm a shrimp, not as much as Yugi, but still a shrimp.

Whenever Bakura hits me, I always feel so angry. That's expected. When he kicks me, beats me, drives his knives into me, I get furious. That's expected too. The urge to pay him back, blood for blood, bruise for bruise, kick for kick, that's a bit unexpected. But to want to kill him, to feel his blood staining my hands, that terrifies me. Am I really that similar to my yami, to want to kill all those who hurt me? I pray that it's not so.

I don't know what to feel anymore. My entire life has been taken over by this. . .this invader and I have become just a mere puppet, moved about on strings wielded by my master.

I hate him.

It's one of the things about me that I do know. I hate him because before he came, I never felt this kind of anger. White-hot, searing anger, the type that consumes you, but at the same time perfectly directed and never out of control. It infests you, turning you into a tool under its invisible hands.

Before he came, I never felt like this before. I was happy, looking for ways to gain control, but not quite willing to go all the way for it. I had friends, all of them just as captivated with dominance and control, but reluctant as well to go all the way through. Prestige and fame were the most important to us and nothing could stop us from gaining it. Nothing. . .but our fear.

That's why I hate him. Because he came, I felt this strange anger and changed. I fear that I've lost my title as hikari and become a yami because of this anger. I fear that I've become darkness and just as cruel and evil as my yami. I fear. . .I fear. . .him.

At night I dream. I dream things that horrify me and make me want to run for my mother and spill my guts to her. There's a few things interfering with that though. My mother is dead and my father's always out on some fucking dig in Egypt. If I told anyone about my dreams I would be in the nearest padded room or visiting a shrink faster than you could say "Change of Heart."

Do you want to know what I dream of? I dream of my yami, his death and his blood. And it sickens me. Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm still furious at him and want him to go away, but I don't want him dead. . .I think.

Yesterday I tried reading my fortune. What I saw gave me nightmares. It told me that I was a fallen angel, that I desired to kill all who oppressed me. And I can feel that unquenchable hate rising up in me every time he sneers, every time he spits, whenever he does anything to me. It takes all of my effort to school my features correctly and hold onto that hate and keep it from harming anyone.

That is why I fear him. Because one day, my rein will break and he will die. My reign of power would begin and nobody will be spared. And then eternal darkness shall come.

How do I know of this? The cards have told me and the cards never lie. It is beyond their capability to do so.

The cards tell me many things. They have told me all that I know. They have told me that my friends believe me to be innocent, virtuous, a taller white-haired version of Yugi Mouto.

But I am not.

Just try telling that to them though. They won't believe it, like I've said before they'll refuse to see what is in front of their very noses. They'll call you a liar, insisting that I'm the innocent one, a hikari.

Let me ask them this one question though.

Is Marik not a hikari? Look at him and tell me, are all hikaris supposed to be exactly like Yugi Mouto? Tell me the answer and think about your own words.

They'd probably reply that Marik's different. He's insane.

But he is a hikari. Their own words states that a hikari must be good, must fit into their ideal innocent one. They're wrong. I have never heard anything so wrong in my life.

Can't they see? Each hikari is different from one another. No two are the same.

But they never will see. Yugi Mouto is the perfect hikari and we must all be like him, sweet and innocent to a fault.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not bitter or angry. It seems that these little things don't really have that much of an effect on me. I just get. . .tired, or annoyed. But I keep up the façade, not wanting to disillusion the only people I have left in the world.

And that is why I must wear my mask, acting the part perfectly of a sweet little hikari, a bit quieter than Yugi, but that's to be expected if you have an abusive yami. But if they wish to see past my smile and kind eyes, they need only ask and they may see the dark soul within. . .but they never will, for they only see their mistaken perceptions.