Okay, little plot bunny. Hop along and tell all your little buddies to leave me alone! ... at least for this fic. It was only meant to be a one-shot, but no; you just had to breed, didn't you? Go bother Natalie. Or better yet, don't bring your new offspring to me until I have time to deal with you! Honestly, I can't keep staying up until 2:00 a.m. trying to get rid of you when I have early classes the next day.
Disclaimer: Do you honestly think Kazuki Takahashi has time to write fanfiction under the guise of a female college student? In layman's terms, that means I do not own YuGiOh. Boohoo.
AN: This is meant to be a sequel to "Reunion" so it might be better if you read that first.
I know that in "Reunion" Yugi refers to Yami as mou hitori no boku, but he'll be referring to him as Yami most of the time in this part.
I wrote the first draft in about three hours, because I had to watch episode 163 again to get some of the lines Yugi said. I've now worked on this for over a week, because Natalie shredded my first version with extreme prejudice (which is exactly what I asked her to do) and I had to piece it back together again, only this time without the less than satisfactory parts, i.e., grammar errors. Picture Kaiba putting his heart back together in the manga after Yami defeats him in Death T, and you'll get the idea.
--
I know perfectly well why I did it. That was never a question in my mind. I know why I tried to stop him from using the Seal of Orichalcos. I know why I used the Puzzle to break through to him after he lost. I know why I pushed him out of the confines of the Seal. I never even had to think about why. I knew, no matter what Raphael said to the contrary, that mou hitori no boku—Yami--was not evil. I knew, in spite of how he'd acted, that he did not deserve to have his soul taken. I knew that if he was taken, he would be tortured and tormented by someone who was not worthy to so much as challenge him, let alone be in possession of his power, or his soul. I knew I could not let that happen to him. And I knew what I had to do. It wasn't as though I could just sit there and watch.
And I suppose that on a deeper level I knew that if I lost him, I probably would not be able to get him back. This was ancient magic after all; he knew more about it than I did. My experiences were limited to my encounters with the various Millennium Items, and the occasional unplanned trip to the Shadow Realm. It wasn't as though I actually understood how those powers worked, much less how to use them to any effect. But he did. This power was more than a part of his life: it was the reason behind his life, at least since he was sealed within the Puzzle.
I suppose part of me did it out of selfishness. I wasn't about to delude myself by thinking that maybe I could get along just fine without him, or that I didn't really need him. To do that would have been denying myself, in a sense. He had once told me, briefly, about his experiences trapped within the Puzzle. He also told me how happy he was when I ended his imprisonment. I could tell from his eyes, and the tone of his voice, that he felt more strongly about it than he was letting on.
I know I was more than a little possessive when it came to him, knowing that of all the people in the world, in all the centuries since his imprisonment began, I was the one who had been chosen to solve the Puzzle and free him. I felt kind of like Aladdin, only instead of a genie that granted three wishes I had a guardian spirit who protected me and made it possible for my dearest wish to come true. It's strange; I used to think that becoming friends with Jou, Honda, and Anzu was the answer to my wish. Now I know better. I wished for a friend, and I had one, from the instant the last puzzle piece clicked into place.
It never occurred to me that he needed me just as much as I needed him.
--
I'd begged him not to use the card. Pleaded with him, repeated what we both knew: that the card was evil, and would remain evil, no matter what it was used for. Yet despite that knowledge, and despite his promise to me, he still used it.
I can understand his reasons behind that decision. I suppose that's only to be expected, considering how long we've shared a mind. Tomias was trapped, and we were going to lose. We needed to free Tomias to win, and the Orichalcos could do that. That's logical, and I could understand that. What I couldn't understand was why Yami was so determined to win.
After all, would it really have mattered if we lost to Raphael? I know that when we dueled before, there were usually pretty high stakes, lives or souls had been wagered, and losing meant so much more than just losing. But not this time.
Professor Hawkins had already been released, Raphael had nothing we really needed, and we wouldn't have lost our souls if we had lost at that point because Raphael had not played the Seal. This duel wouldn't even show up on any records, so really, would losing have been so terribly important? Well, Kaiba might have cared, but that's another matter. Would it really have been a big deal?
I didn't think so. But Yami did.
I should have known better, really. He was a king—or he had been one, long ago. Actually he was more than a mere king: he was Pharaoh, seen by his people as nothing less than a living god. He had been someone people looked up to, someone they trusted to be strong and not back down from danger. His pride would never allow him to run from any challenge, (a fact which had been proven many times by then) and so even those times that he wasn't fighting with lives or souls on the line, each time he accepted a challenge he had, in a sense, wagered his honor on the outcome. He had lost so much—his memory, his past life, and his freedom for all those years he was trapped in the Puzzle—the way he saw it, his honor as a duelist was one of the few things he had left. I can't blame him for not wanting to lose that, too.
But still…
Interfering with the consequences he had brought on himself when he'd risked everything and lost, pushing him out of the circle of glowing green… it may have been my choice, but it was his actions that brought about the circumstances that led me to it.
Believe me when I say that it would have been so easy to blame him, to feel betrayed by him, even though it was my choice to make. I may have been the one who acted, but I never should have needed to. But I couldn't blame him, because I knew that he never could have imagined that I would act as I did. Still, it would have been so easy, especially in those first few moments as I felt my soul ripped from my body, to give in to that frightened little boy inside of me that wanted to scream "Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? How could you do this? How could you do this to me?"
It would have been so easy.
And…and yet it was far easier to silence that voice.
I don't claim to be a hero: Yami's always been the stronger of us. I've never been envious of his strength, as he's made me so much stronger than I used to be. And yet, as I became stronger with his help, I also found myself wishing I could return the favor. He had saved me so many times, rescued me and my family and friends. It seemed to me that he had placed a standard of what a hero should be, and I knew I would never be able to surpass what he had done.
He never seemed to think so, always downplaying whatever he had done. He had every right to be smug and haughty, knowing that he was the stronger half, but he was always modest. That's not to say he sold himself short. He knew the extent of his power, and never seemed to doubt what he could do. After all, in his past life, he had saved his kingdom from the destructive power of the Shadow Games. He seemed born to the role of a rescuer, a guardian, and I was grateful for it.
I always wished I could pay him back somehow. Wished that I had what it took to be able to return in some small measure the support and strength he had given me, especially since I was certain I would always owe him more than I could pay back. I tried to help him as best I could, but I never seemed to be able to do more than encourage him. And each time he would succeed, it only seemed to make my debt to him greater. He always seemed grateful for my efforts to help, but I didn't know if it was because I'd really helped him or if he was just pretending to be comforted so that I would be put at ease. In all our time together, it had never occurred to me that he could ever be weak.
Maybe it was because of the power of the Orichalcos stone we wore around our neck. Maybe it was Raphael's taunts, the surety in his voice in claiming that Yami was evil. Maybe it was something else—I don't know. Whatever the reason, he gave in to the pressure and activated the Seal. I had grabbed onto his arm, trying to stop him from placing the card on the field, but there was little I could do. He had taken control of my body, and I was the spirit-being. I knew from interacting with Yami when he was in his spirit form that being in such a state made one nearly as insubstantial as a ghost, but I had never fully realized before how completely powerless being like that made me until he brushed me off as easily as he would an ant crawling up his arm.
I remember screaming as the green glow spread from the card in his hand. I was forced away from him as an invisible, but powerful wave of something washed over me. The next thing I knew, I was in a place that reminded me of the Shadow Realm, looking down on Yami, through a window made in the circle of the Orichalcos, watching as he dueled, surrounded by the Seal.
It was as though he had become another person entirely; someone strange to me. I had never seen from the outside what he looked like when he dueled. I had felt his emotions, his determination, but I had never seen his face. I found myself wondering if this was what all our opponents had seen--the cruelty in his eyes, that haughty smirk, his body language and mannerisms bespeaking absolute confidence in his own power—or if it was the Seal, its mark displayed on his forehead where the Eye of Horus would normally be seen, that had twisted mou hitori no boku into this other person.
It was awful, watching the way he dueled, his moves so like those he would usually make, but tainted, twisted, reminding me of the very duelists he had often scorned as unworthy. He mocked, sacrificed, and didn't seem to care for the creatures who had been his servants for millennia, treating them as tools. And he laughed. Before, I had sometimes heard him chuckle when something amused him, and I had always hoped to hear him laugh, really laugh. But what he did in that duel…it was cruel, mocking, superior, and held no joy; only a dark, twisted satisfaction in causing another pain.
I must admit that when he lost, the first thing I felt was relief. I had so hated to see him like that: tainted, so different from the person I knew. It was the sound of him screaming as Raphael's creature struck the last blow that snapped me out of my own thoughts, and turned my attention to the problem at hand. I knew I had to act fast. I realized that this was my chance to save him. After so long of wishing for this chance I didn't even have to think about whether or not I would do it, only how. I had wished for this opportunity for a long time. I only regretted that it had come under those circumstances. I knew that what I was going to do was going to hurt him, and that he would blame himself. But I also knew that something must be done if we ever wanted to be together again like we were before. I only hoped what I was planning would work.
Using the Puzzle to break the Seal was an impulsive act; I hadn't had the time to think about whether or not it would work, I only knew that ancient magic could usually only be broken by ancient magic, and the Puzzle was the only thing I had with such in it. I suppose my impulsiveness was a good thing. Yami had already tried to do the same thing recently, and it had not worked. Had I had time to think things through, I would have remembered that, and lost any hope of succeeding. For that matter, I don't know why it did work for me, and not him.
In the best case scenario the Puzzle would have just smashed the seal, leaving both of us free and happy. I didn't really expect that, however, so I wasn't disappointed when it didn't happen. Something did happen, however, that I had not been expecting.
When I was in control of my body Yami was a spirit, and resided within the Puzzle, ready for me to contact at any time. He did not have a physical presence. Even those rare times when I entered the corridors of his soul room to talk with him, such as when we freed Tomias, or when we concocted a battle plan when we were facing Pegasus, his touch was more of an impression than actual physical contact, like the feeling you get when the dentist numbs your mouth for a filling: if you press your tongue against your teeth, you can't feel their texture, but you know they're there because they stop your tongue from moving.
Whenever I had 'touched' Yami before, I could never really feel him. I could feel where he was supposed to be, but it was like touching solid air. Not even that, really. Solid air would have more of a presence than he did at those times. There was no texture, no warmth, and no heartbeat. I once asked him if he felt the same thing when we came in contact, and he said no. He said that I felt warm to him, that he could feel my skin and my clothing, that he could sometimes even hear my heartbeat. I suppose it's because I still had a living body.
Yet, when I pushed him out of the boundaries of the Seal--I felt him.
I knew it was only my body I was touching, but in a way it wasn't. It (or I, if you want to look at it that way) always changed to suit him when he was in possession of it. At those times, my body became our body, and when I was the spirit-being, it was his body. What are bodies after all, but mortal vessels for souls? They become the property of whoever is in control of them. When he was in possession of my body, it was no more mine than something you give away.
But still, for the first time, I could feel the firmness of his back, his warmth through my hands, and I couldn't help but revel in it. I had often wondered what it would be like if he was allowed a physical form, if I could be with him in the same way I could be with my friends. If, instead of feeling nothing when I 'touched' him, I could feel the warmth of his skin, and hear his heartbeat, or hear his laugh and his voice as more than just echoes in my mind. And for a brief second, part of that wish came true. That alone made my actions worth it, at least in my mind. Not only had I been able to save him, for once actually try to pay back a part of the debt I owed him, but I had been given the chance to touch him, to feel texture and warmth, to know what it was like to be able to have physical contact with the person who was so much closer to me than any other. In view of everything so much more important that was going on at that moment, I suppose that this made me far happier than I should have been. And then, of course, it all came crashing down.
Most of it was his expression; the way he looked at me when he realized what I was doing—it tore me apart inside. I saw shock, regret, horror, and unbelievably—fear.
He was afraid. He was actually afraid of losing me forever. And that in turn made me afraid as well, afraid like I had never been before. It had made so much sense to me: I would be captured, he would rescue me. Two and two make four. It had never occurred to me that he would be afraid of failure in this. I knew he had been afraid before, (sort of) for other people's sake. When we battled Pegasus, the Rare Hunters, Marik,--he had been afraid those times, but it was more from the thought of what would happen to everyone else if he failed that inspired this fear--and it was a fear far different from the fear I saw in his eyes as he realized what I was doing. This was the first time I had ever seen him afraid for himself.
When I looked into his eyes in those horrible seconds as the Seal fulfilled its purpose, I recognized something I never thought I would see in him. I had seen that look before on my own face, when I cleaned myself up in the school bathroom after the most recent round of bullying. At those times, I would examine the cuts and bruises and wonder how on earth I would ever survive until graduation. I was honestly afraid for myself, trying not to imagine what would happen if it turned out that I couldn't do it. The look in my eyes always scared me. It was a deep-rooted fear, not like the fear you feel when someone jumps out at you and shouts boo! or when you see a scary movie and the bad guy suddenly appears while the music blares out from the screen. It was a real fear, the kind that can't be shaken off so easily, the kind that can take control of your actions if you let it, that will settle deep in your heart and is so hard to shake off. And those aren't the type of emotions people willingly show to others. I never imagined I would see it in anyone else, let alone him. It had honestly never occurred to me that we might share that kind of fear.
But we did. And it shocked me to the core.
All of a sudden, the knowledge I had taken for granted—that he would save me no matter what, that it wouldn't even be particularly difficult, or no more so than usual, but that it would just happen—no longer seemed like a foregone conclusion. I was afraid, as much for myself as I was for him. I knew what would happen to me if he failed in his attempt to rescue me. I would just remain trapped, probably not even able to think or feel anything. But what would happen to him?
To someone like Yami, honor and duty and protecting the ones you love, are perhaps more important than life. He hadn't been that way at first, but that is who he had become. I knew by his own admission that he felt he owed me his life, because I had freed him from the Puzzle. I always brushed off such remarks, because hadn't he paid me back for that a hundred times over at this point? But I knew that he still felt that way. Because he felt that I had saved him, he felt honor-bound to protect me. And to feel that way about me, and then to lose me because of his own mistake, because I had chosen to protect him when he had lost through his own actions, when he himself believed that the loser deserves their punishment…
I felt the newly awakened fear spread quickly through me. I had always known he was strong, but was he strong enough to face his own weakness for my sake? I didn't know—I don't think anything that could even be compared to this had ever happened to him before, at least not since I'd known him. He'd never faced weakness, not really; nothing beyond pondering his nameless status. Wondering who and what he was. He'd never really been one for introspection, as it had always led him to more questions.
I knew I was important to him, I knew that, in his own way, he loved and cherished me. What I didn't know is if that was enough.
The light went from a gentle glow to a blinding radiance, blocking his face from my view, but I could still see clearly the frantic fear in his eyes as the world dissolved around me.
--
It wasn't as bad as I expected, being trapped by the Seal. It was kind of like what I had imagined Yami must have felt like, being trapped in the Puzzle. I suppose it would have been very boring, with nothing to do but float in a bubble, but the Seal also seemed to have an anesthetizing affect on my mind, like the feeling you get when you wake up in the morning, and realize that you can afford to sleep in a little longer. Nothing seemed terribly important, and I had nothing to do but remember what had happened, over and over again. Every time the scene finished playing out, I was again faced with the question: so now what? And every time, when my numbed brain couldn't form an answer, it would start again. I knew it would do so, over and over again, until I had come to a decision, one way or the other, what to do.
In the end, I chose to forgive him.
It was hard not to, after the next time I saw him.
--
I'm not quite sure how long I'd been trapped when the sleepy feeling the Seal created was suddenly interrupted. I sensed a Presence, far older even than Yami, pass through the influence of the Seal the way one would pass through an old cobweb, and heard a voice in my head.
He needs to see you.
I didn't need to ask who the voice meant.
Where is he?
Come with me…
The world faded, and the next thing I knew I was back in the desert, looking down on a circle carved in the dirt, ringed with stones. I don't know how, but I knew it was a sacred place.
He'll come here, looking for you.
Is he all right?
No. He's suffering without you.
What do you mean…?
He needs you, perhaps more than you ever needed him.
T-that's impossible! He's always been the one who's protected me! He's always been the strong one—
Has he?
W-well, I…
You see, little light? He needs you. He may be strong, but you are his reason to be.
But how can I help? It's not as though I can talk to him right now.
No, you can't. But you will be given the chance to see him again soon. And there is something you must do, if you want to help him.
Name it! I'll do anything for him!
Would you fight him?
What do you mean?
You must face him in a duel. You have to force him to defeat you.
Well, that's easy enough. He could beat me with his eyes shut.
Maybe under normal circumstances, but he has been deeply shaken by what has happened to you both. He blames himself for your entrapment, and as such, he will be weak against you now.
I don't understand.
He's afraid. He's afraid that even if he succeeds in getting you back, that you'll hate him. He thinks that you'll never be able to trust him again, that you'll blame him, condemn him for his weakness.
But I don't! I mean, I was hurt, certainly, and I never expected that sort of behavior from him, but I could never hate him, no matter what he did.
But he doesn't know that. And for a while, you must make him believe that his fears are true.
What are you saying?
When you face each other, you must act as though you blame him. I know this will be painful for you, and it will hurt him as well. But if you do this, and he is strong enough tow do what he must, you will be allowed some time to speak to him honestly, and his fears will be relieved. I'm sorry, but that can only happen if he can bring himself to defeat you.
…Is this the only way?
Yes.
Then I'll do it, though I hate myself for the pain I must cause him.
Very well. Now listen, and I will tell you what you must do…
--
I kept my word. I almost slipped up, though, when I first saw him face-to-face. It was so hard not to smile, not to try and comfort him, to force my features into an expression that I could only hope appeared angry and resentful. It felt so strange to me, and he seemed so wary, and in need of reassurance.
"Is that really you?"
He stepped forward, I can only assume to embrace me, and it took everything I had to stay still. I was relieved when he passed through me—had he been able to touch me, I know I would have lost my resolve.
"You came all this way, just to see me?"
He said he was sorry…
"I'm sorry too. I wish this whole thing never happened."
As I thought, he blamed himself. He admitted his fears. Fighting the urge to bite my tongue, I said what I needed to.
"Well what good is that now? I'm the one who's been locked away forever, not you!"
Again, he apologized.
I wanted nothing more than to say I forgave him, but I knew that would have to wait.
I challenged him to a duel. As per my instructions, I struck at him with my words, saying what I knew would snap him out of it, if anything would.
"If you're really sorry, then you'll do this!"
We dueled. Our hands were identical. I played the seal, forcing him to face his own mistake. I hated myself more with every word I spat at him, taunts and condemnations that I never thought I'd have to say. I knew I'd be beating myself up over this later, but right now I knew that this was the only way I could ever be reunited with him again.
Finally, there came a chance for him to win. I only hoped he'd have the courage to play the card.
This was it. Could he do it?
Please. Be strong for me again.
With that last, silent plea, I ordered my attack.
--
I was relieved, later, to find out that there are some feelings even the Seal can't smother. Even the memory of what I felt when he turned my attack back towards me to win the duel is indescribable. Terms like relief, joy, and ecstasy just can't do some emotions justice. I was so proud of him. I understood some of what he went through, so I had an idea of what it must have taken for him to defeat me.
I lay there on the ground, not moving after I'd been blasted by my own attack. I know I'd probably looked better, but I honestly say I could have died happy then. He had won, after all. He'd won, and I'd never been so happy about losing in my life. And if that wasn't enough, the next thing I felt was his arms around me—he could touch me now-- and my wish was granted in full.
I felt his warmth, the gentleness of his arm around my shoulders. I could feel his heart pounding through his ribs. I could hear his voice as he called to me. I wanted nothing more than to melt into his embrace, to stay with him, right there, and never move again. But I couldn't stay, and I knew that if I gave in to my feelings, it would just make parting that much harder on both of us. Parting was inevitable—I might be allowed to be here right now, but it wasn't permanent.
For the first time, I saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes as he asked the same question that I had faced, and had to find my own answer to.
"But now what?"
I answered as best I could. I expressed faith in him, encouraged him, and asked him not to give up. And as I felt myself disappear again, as the Seal reclaimed me, I heard his voice calling out to me.
"I'll save you! No matter what it takes!"
And I believed him. He said that he would save me, and the fear that had been in me until that moment was gone. And so I waited.
Again, I have no idea how much time had passed between then and the next time I saw him. The form I had been given--dressed in silver armor, carrying a sword, facing him across the floor of an ancient temple--was not even in my control. I know it must have looked like me, because it was clear that he recognized me. The look on his face was not exactly pleasant to see. I could tell from the emotions I could see in his eyes that he had not yet forgiven himself, and would not be able to unless he won. I hated whoever was controlling me, forcing me to attack him. I resisted as best I could, hoping that he would recognize that I didn't attack him by choice. Our link had been blocked by the magic that had separated us, but I could still clearly see what he was feeling.
I knew from the times I had seen him face-to-face previously, that he rarely let his emotions show on his face. He always kept his features tightly controlled; the only emotions he would show willingly seemed to be rage and determination. Even then, the only times Yami had been truly wrathful, I wasn't exactly in a position to see that myself, being on standby, as it were. And whenever he would speak to me directly, he was never angry; not at me, at least.
In some ways, it reminded me of watching him duel Raphael. He was not under the Seal's influence, he did not mock or disrespect his creatures. When he summoned Tomias, the dragon responded to his call. And yet he still exhibited that same aura of power. His confidence was still badly shaken, yet that sense of strength I always felt from his presence was still there. I don't think he even realized it.
The time came when he had a chance to destroy the form I had taken. He refused. I managed to gain enough control to speak to him directly. I wasn't able to say much, and it didn't have the desired effect. Fortunately, Kaiba did not believe us to be real; I was not able to say so at the time, but I was so happy for the skepticism that meant he'd been able to do what was needed. Instead, I merely said that we were all right before disappearing again.
When I came back to myself once more, I was back in my little bubble (though heaven only knows if it was the same one) but this time I could speak to the others who had been imprisoned. I knew that something was about to happen. I only hoped it was our freedom that was coming.
I knew it when it happened, because one second I was in my bubble, and the next second…well, I was still in my bubble, but we were both moving very quickly. I imagined this was how a goldfish in a bag must feel. You can't see much, and what little you can see makes so little sense that it's easier just to ignore auditory input, and depend on your other senses to orient you. Though that also turned out to be pretty useless, because before I knew it we had stopped, and there came a sensation of sudden cold, followed by heat, like walking in from a cold winter's day, into a house that's so warm you can feel it without having to adjust. I was warm, and in a place that felt—familiar.
When I opened my eyes, I immediately knew where I was: my soul room. I immediately looked to the door, expecting to see Yami there, only to see the door shut, much to my surprise. I could have sworn I'd left it open the last time I was here.
I stand, cross to the door, and open it, reaching out just in time to catch Yami's kneeling form as he fell forward into my arms…
--
It's his turn again. Already. The evil presence floating in the sky is quite insistent on that. This destiny is his to claim, not mine. I withdraw into the corridor between our soul rooms. It hasn't been very long since I've left him; I only hope he's ready to take over again. I'll be right there with him, ready to help if he needs me. Just as I always am.
As always, I can sense time slowing outside my mind. It's a nice feeling; some people wish for more time, and in here I can have it. I know I could stay for longer than it would take to get Yami, but I'm anxious to see this end, and I know Yami must be too.
For the second time in the last half-hour or so, I open the door to my soul room, this time from the outside. It also seems strange to me that I'd never liked the thought of Yami entering my room before now. He already knew who I was better than anyone, and he wasn't the type to hide his feelings if he didn't like something.
His room was mysterious, hinting at hidden power, as old as the Puzzle itself, while mine looked like it could have been taken from a nursery school. --I'd always been a bit embarrassed about that. But when I came back earlier, I found things much more disorganized than they'd been the last time I'd been there. I could sense Yami's lingering presence, and was surprised at the sense of despair he'd left there. It had almost seemed tangible, as though his emotions had become a permanent part of the room. Had he been there while I was gone? Why would he have entered my room anyway? He knew I wasn't there after all, and that was the only reason I could think of for him to come in. It seemed childish for him to just want to spend time in my room, when he had so many other important things to do, rather than sit here. For that matter, why didn't my room disappear completely when I was taken?
Abandoning further contemplation of the imponderable, I step into the room and look around for Yami.
He's not hard to find. He's right where I left him, curled up in the replica of the bean-bag chair I'd had when I was little. For some reason his face looks wrong, and I realize why when I step closer: there are dried tear-tracks running down his cheeks.
I stop dead for a moment in utter shock. I had never thought there was anything that could make Yami cry; never, not anything. Even when he held me in the stone circle, his eyes had only filled with the threat of tears that never really spilled. And I was back now, so why on earth would he be crying? Maybe it is slightly egotistical of me, but I really can't think of another thing he'd have to cry about, not now anyway.
His eyes are closed, he seems almost to be sleeping, but when I kneel in front of him again, as I did not long before, and reach out to touch his hand, they open immediately. They are hard and sharp, due to their color, but the expression in them makes his eyes seem soft and vulnerable.
Once again, it's almost a disappointment when I find I can't feel him again. I couldn't before either, when I'd touched his face. I hadn't wanted to at first, because I knew it would be like it was before, now that he was a spirit again. But he just looked so miserable and so utterly exhausted, that I couldn't help myself. Thankfully he seemed to take comfort at my touch, and if it was anything like I'd felt the one time he'd been allowed to hold me, I could readily understand why.
I hadn't intended to linger, but time slows down for us here, so for once I'm going to take advantage of it! So what if the world's about to explode? It can wait for a little while, surely.
I don't say anything at first. I just let my hands glide across his face, touching, but not really, silently asking for an explanation for the dried tears on his face. He looks at me and then looks away, as though ashamed that I've seen him like this. But I don't feel ashamed of him, or even for him. I don't understand why he seems to be, either. I've seen him at his worst, sure, but I've seen him at his best far more. To be honest, I wish he felt more comfortable in sharing his feelings with me. Does he really think I'd condemn him for not being perfect every once in a while? Maybe he needs a little more prompting than most people.
"Yami, why were you crying?" I take a firmer grip on his face, holding it and forcing him to face me while I voice the question. He still refuses to meet my eyes, staring down instead. Curse that blasted pride of his.
"Please, tell me."
He finally answers. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see--"
Not the answer I was hoping for. I cut him off. "Why not? Is it really so bad for me to see you like this?"
He doesn't answer. He glances upward, and for a second I catch the look of surprise on his face, as though it had never before occurred to him that I wouldn't care seeing him at less than his best. Almost, I want to cry for him, to think that he thinks he must always strive for unattainable perfection. I don't though. This isn't about me. It's about him. I have another chance. Another chance to be the one to help him.
They say that there are times when actions speak louder than words, and that even the prettiest or most powerful of words can be undermined by behavior. I say that's true, but there's something else that people don't often mention: that there are some feelings that can only be expressed through actions.
He stiffens in shock as I put my arms around his neck and hug him for the first time. I desperately wish that I could feel him. I have no way of telling if what I am doing is having any affect on him. It's usually so difficult to guess his feelings even at the best of times, and now I can't even see him, as my face is pressed into his shoulder.
"It's okay, you know," I whisper, softly. "You don't have to pretend around me." Please tell me, I beg silently. Am I helping you at all? Or does it have to involve some ancient, evil magic before you need me? Before you'll even pretend that you need me? I still don't see that I could possibly have any great effect on you.
Moments later, my question is answered.
I feel a slight pressure surround my body. I find myself wishing desperately that I could feel his warmth once again as he hugs me back, bowing his head to whisper in my ear.
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry, Yugi…It's my fault, I never should have…"
"Shh." Without raising my head, I slide my arm out from around him and press my hand over his mouth. "It's all right now. I'm here, and I'm okay, and I'm so happy to be with you again."
"I missed you," he gasps. I can feel his mouth moving against my palm as he speaks despite the blockade. "I used to have nightmares about it, before all this. What it would be like if I would suddenly lose you, if you were taken from me. I just never thought I would lose you because of something that I…"
"I don't blame you, you know."
"I wish you would." His voice is bitter, full of self-recrimination.
"You do?"
"Yes."
"You shouldn't."
"How can you say that?" He sounds almost frustrated, which is kind of funny.
I raise my head from his shoulder, smiling as our eyes meet. I look directly into his crimson gaze as I speak; I want him to understand.
"It doesn't matter to me that you used the Seal. It doesn't matter to me that I was trapped. It doesn't matter to me that you feel fear, or sadness, or that you aren't strong all the time. It's okay. After everything you've been through, I'd be more surprised if you didn't feel this way. You did it. You got me back—so stop beating yourself up, okay?"
I pull back gently. His arms loosen slightly, but don't let me go entirely. He doesn't seem to believe me yet. I go on.
"It doesn't matter to me that you're not perfect all the time. What does matter to me is that you overcame all of that for my sake, that you found it in yourself to rise above your fear, to come after me when it was so dangerous to do so, to wager your soul for the chance to get me back. It matters to me that you came for me. And," I have to pause for a moment, collecting myself, as I see more tears form in his eyes. I take a somewhat shaky breath as I brush my fingers under his eyes softly, and watch the first tear fall onto his cheek. I smile a little, almost crying myself. "It matters that I've been the only one to see you cry."
--
He'd tightened the hug we'd never really ended, after that. And even though I couldn't feel him, I wanted to stay because I knew he felt better for my being there.
He eventually left to face Dartz, even though I knew he would rather have stayed. I watched as he left my body completely to lead the gods in their final assault. I watched as he won, as it all ended for good. I welcomed him back, though I could not spend more time alone with him until some time later, after we'd returned to the Hawkins' trailer and found beds for the night.
Almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was back in my soul room. To my surprise, Yami wasn't there—I'd expected to find him curled in the beanbag chair again, and was almost disappointed when I didn't. I told myself it was silly, he had no reason to be here. I imagined a bed, and lay down as soon as it appeared. I couldn't fall asleep, my mind was too full. Maybe Yami was asleep. He'd certainly been through a lot.
I had finally started to doze when I heard a knock on the door.
I sat up. It could only be one person. "Come in."
He entered carefully, hesitantly, as though uncertain if he would be welcome.
"Hey," I smiled tiredly and held out a hand to him. He smiled warily in return, and stepped closer, taking my hand in his and sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was quiet for a long time.
"It's been a long day, hasn't it?" I prompted.
He nodded, and then looked away. I wished I could tell what he was thinking, but he'd been blocking his part of our link for a while now.
"What's wrong?"
He didn't answer at first, staying silent for so long that I felt myself start to drift off.
"May I stay here tonight?"
I was so tired that it took me a moment to understand his request.
"You mean, sleep in here?"
"Not necessarily, I just…"
"What?"
He suddenly lay down next to me, pulling me into his arms. It reminded me of how my Grandpa used to hold me when I'd had a nightmare. Sometimes I would go to him, but at other times he'd come into my room and lie down next to me, and hold me until I fell asleep again before returning to his own bed. I never did know how he knew always seemed to know all those times, but somehow he was always there. Unlike then, however, I sensed that Yami was doing this as much for his own comfort as for mine.
"I'm afraid." He says softly, his voice low and husky. "So afraid…that if I close my eyes, when I open them you'll be gone again…and this will all have been a dream. I don't want that to happen again. I was so alone, when you were gone."
I didn't even need to think about what my answer would be.
"Then stay with me."
He pushed himself up once again to look down at me.
"Are you sure?"
Instead of answering with words, I pulled him back down to rest his head on my shoulder. I pretend to myself that I can feel his warmth, hear his heartbeat.
"Don't worry. When you open your eyes, I'll be here." I promise him, meaning every word.
He sighs, a long exhalation that somehow carries more meaning than mere words could convey—the sound was weary and almost pure emotion: release, relaxation, and comfort expressed without real words.
I smile and close my eyes, feeling sleep approaching. I can feel my heartbeat slowing, my breathing calming, and I know he can feel it, too. I've been there now, and I know what wonders something as simple as physical contact can do.
Just before I fall asleep, I feel his tears dampen my shirt.
To my surprise, they are warm.
000
I forgot to say this before, but reviews are welcome and appreciated.
And…I know that Yami cried before, right after he lost Yugi, but Yugi doesn't know that, and Yami isn't really the type to admit that, is he?