Like most fans, I was sad to see the series end with Yami's departure. So, I initially set out to write a fluffy story of his romance with Yugi after he returns. But then I became really fascinated with the question of why he would come back at all. And then I wondered: what if it wasn't his choice to come back? Things kind of spiraled out of control from there. This will likely be a longer fic, but I hope to make it my project for NaNoWriMo this November. That will keep it moving along.
I prefer to use the Japanese names for the most part. Otherwise, just note that this begins right where the original series ends. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any of its characters. They all belong to the awesome Kazuki Takahashi!
"Show me a hero, and I'll write you a tragedy." (F. Scott Fitzgerald)
Yami walked into the burning light. He could see them waiting for him: Seth, Mahado, Mana… his father. His family. Their faces drew him forward: one step, then another. They were his reward, his homecoming after years of service. Now, he could return to them and be just a man and a son, not a god. He could set down his sword and let the world take care of itself.
If the door closed behind him, he didn't hear it. All he allowed himself was forward, momentum, and in time, walking no longer required all of his effort. He knew he would adapt to these staples of his past quickly. He had to. He'd spent the first years of his life at their side. They'd imprinted on him and the habits would return. But then he wondered why the faces didn't seem to get any closer. In fact, they seemed even farther than before.
That moment of doubt started his troubles—the small crack made him aware of the tremendous elation and despair pressing, waiting, at his temples and chest and throat. Yami walked faster. 'This is where I belong,' he told himself, over and over and over, until the chant matched the pace of his feet. Soon the faces disappeared entirely. Where had everyone gone?
He stopped and turned around. All he saw was light. The oppression of it reminded him of the puzzle, but worse: there were no doors or exits here, no shadows or soul room across the hall. Then he noticed the quiet. No sound here, either. Even as his breaths came to him in shuddering gasps, it was silent. He shouted for his father. Nothing.
Panic joined in with the other feelings he was struggling to ignore. He ran on.
Later, the air began to thrum. It filled his ears with the frenetic and indistinct beat of television static and airplane engines. Covering his ears did nothing. When he looked down, he saw his feet fading, the light enveloping him inch by inch. Yami continued running, knowing it was futile, until suddenly, water surrounded him.
The chill shocked his nerves, and he sputtered up to the surface. Blinking, he saw only darkness. His eyes had to adjust. Coughing up what he'd swallowed, he began to tread water and keep himself afloat. Even though the space was just as unknown as the light, he already felt more at ease. Cold and darkness were familiar friends. And the river… Now he remembered. A distant teaching of traveling through the underworld on the path to judgment from the gods. A boat—he needed to wait for a boat.
Finding the riverbed underfoot, he made his way over to the bank. The gold jewelry slowed his progress and made him sluggish. Ah, the gods. The idea of them seemed more palatable after his experiences in the Memory World. When he'd summoned them against Zorc, they weren't cards, they were everything, their blessing infusing and strengthening him with purpose and their power. Soon, he would be passing through the gates to reach them… And yet, a part of him found it hard to believe he needed to bother with the ritual. Had he not done just as they asked? Fulfilled his destiny? What more could he do to prove he lived a life of ma'at (balance)?
He surveyed his surroundings once he reached land. Darkness behind and on the sides. A slick, dark surface underfoot. The river and more darkness ahead. He released a long, tired sigh. The waiting dragged on.
Yami had taken a seat hours ago. He smoothed down his clothes and lingered at the edges of his cloak. He'd half expected to see a blue uniform. "Not anymore," he said aloud, flicking it out of his hands. At least he could hear himself here. And the river. Its stillness had an energy of its own.
His mind drifted back to the duel. Alternate strategies cropped up out of habit—what else he could have done—but he returned over and over to how impressed he was with Yugi. He saw his aibou's face as it had stared him down across the battlefield, before it dealt the final blow and shone with tears.
He'd done so well. Yami closed his eyes. Had he told Yugi he was brave? How proud he was? He couldn't remember now. It didn't matter. The parts he did had calmed him down. Smiling for the first time since his arrival in the underworld, he realized Yugi not only made a great partner, but a great opponent. They should have dueled more.
What would the group be doing now, he wondered. Touring the pyramids before their flight? Examining a bazaar? He could picture Yugi's face easily: rushing from place to place with wide-eyed excitement at the people and the sights, Ryou right beside him. Jou and Honda getting completely out of hand. Anzu trying to keep them all in line with Sugoroku and Otogi's help. If he were there, he'd treat Yugi to something special for his victory. Then he'd make sure to share his favorite places with everyone now that he remembered them—
The thought broke the barrier that had so carefully kept his feelings away. The onslaught of emotions doubled him over. His every nerve ached. He was dead. And he would never be there with them again. Not when Yugi graduated or started his career. Or had a family. Yami struggled to breathe—why did he breathe here?—his chest burning with the effort to hold back the grief he desperately wanted to drown in. No more quiet confidences or shared hopes for the future. No more battles side-by-side.
He would not see the man Yugi became without him.
'No,' he commanded himself, forcing slow and deliberate inhales in, then, exhales out. 'No. That world is not yours. It's Yugi's. And you have to let him go.' His arms gave out below him as he deflated, slumped on his side. 'You did your part and so did he. Let him go.' Face against the ground, he savored the cool texture along his cheek.
Yami began to rest. He had no world to be strong for anymore. Then he let go. The sound of his sorrows was swallowed by the dark that surrounded him.
When he began to settle down, Yami realized he didn't enjoy the darkness much either anymore. It reminded him of the years alone, as he was now. It wasn't any better knowing who he was this time. Really, if he had known the afterlife meant this much time by himself, maybe he would have thrown the game. Yugi wouldn't have minded, right? They'd managed several years in one body just fine.
Yami sat up and crossed his arms to rest them on his knees. What were the gods waiting for? Were they testing him even now? "If you were going to make me wait this long, you could have given me more time to say goodbye," he said, clearly bitter.
The ground beneath him began to move. If it weren't for the water lapping around him, he might have missed it. It was an island, not a bank, that he'd been sitting on. Then he realized he wasn't alone. A few feet to his right, just enough to make out, swam a crocodile. Its tail made lazy sweeps to the left, then the right. The sight of it put him on edge immediately. He distinctly remembered that he did not like the creatures. In his childhood, he'd seen the beasts eat too many of the animals he loved.
Yami tried to act like he wasn't watching its every move, but he was. This was progress, but not the inspiring kind. After awhile, he relaxed. It didn't seem terribly interested in him anyway.
"If I weren't already, I'd be dead from boredom," he muttered to himself, crossing his legs. He had the distinct impression the crocodile was amused by him. The thought irritated him. His suspicions were confirmed.
Waiting for something, it seemed to ask. Yami had seen enough strange things in his centuries to be unsurprised by this. He narrowed his eyes. It continued swimming, no faster, no slower.
"Judgment," he said finally, feeling stupid as soon as he did. The croc submerged itself and returned minutes later on his other side.
Who said anything about judgment? Now it had his attention. Yami sat a little straighter. Fixed his diadem. "My tomb keepers. The tablet."
The crocodile took a wide loop around the island. Well then it must be true. Again it dove beneath the surface to leave Yami with his thoughts. It reappeared on his left, closer this time.
How interesting, isn't it? To bring you here, after all you've done, only to send you back?
"What?" Yami stood, wishing he had something to throw. The crocodile began to swim away. "Guardian!" That seemed as plausible as anything to call it. "Come back here and tell me what you mean!" For all his commands, it didn't do him any good. The creature had disappeared.
Before he had time to process the words, he heard something. Water churning in the distance, like a rapid… or a waterfall. He started to step back but heard a crack behind him and swiveled so fast he almost tripped back into the water. The crocodile was behind him and enormous. He stood his ground, kept his fear at bay.
"What did you mean?" Its glassy eyes stared back at him. It seemed serious, if that were even possible. The sound of the falls echoed louder.
Did you really think death was the end for you, Pharaoh? A hissing sound had joined the rush of water and it set the hairs at Yami's neck and arms on end. Something was wrong. This was not what he'd been told to expect.
The crocodile moved toward him. Yami stepped back, hovering on his heels to try and regain his balance. The water roared now. It was close.
Atem, death is only the end if the story's about you. The crocodile watched him fall over the edge and into oblivion. Then it disappeared.
AN: Thanks for reading! If you like it, please let me know. It helps keep us writers motivated when the muses go awry.