Disclaimer: Yu-gi-oh! and all its associated characters do not belong to me. This is but a fan-written work, which I gain no monetary profit from.

Summary: Drabble. Yugi examines his relationship with Yami, and its repercussions. YAOI warning. Dark; YY/Y implied.

Narcissism

You can feel them staring at you again. Whispering, pointing.

"...See that boy? That's the one who's always going around, mumbling to himself. Keeps to himself, he does. Apparently he just stopped in the middle of the mall - alone - and burst out laughing last week. Yes, his hair is rather odd, isn't it? All those spikes and strange colours. Little punk. No normal kid would wear their hair like that. I heard his father died when he was just a baby. Hmm? Oh, you heard that his mother abuses him? Really? Well, that might explain it. Yes, they say he's a bit touched in the head..."

"Poor kid."

You hate the way they judge you. The accusing looks, the sneers, the fear. The way they drop their voices to whispers when you walk by...the heavy weight of their stares on your back as you pass.

Most of all, you hate the pity.

You know that they think you're crazy. That they think you're insane to walk around talking to yourself; smiling, laughing at seemingly nothing.

The heavy, familiar weight of the golden inverted pyramid around your neck is a comforting presence, sometimes the only constant that keeps you grounded. It glows faintly and you feel a warmth that has nothing to do with your physical surroundings spread through you, as he murmurs words of love and encouragement in your ear, reassuring you that no, you aren't mad, and yes, he will always be there with you.

'Til death do you part, except that a spirit cannot die.

You feel vaguely comforted, but still...in a traitorous corner of your mind, you cannot help but think that maybe, just maybe, you are going mad. Nobody else can see him; what if is is just a figment of your overactive imagination?

He is so much a part of you, after all. Metaphysically separate, but the same in body. Two souls in one physical reality.

And you wonder how it can feel so right to love someone who is, if perhaps not in essence, is, in a corporeal sense, so much yourself that you cannot tell where he leaves off and you begin.

~ End ~