Chaos: Look, I'm alive. And also feeling very ill, so no shouting about other updates please. (groan) Anywho, wrote this yesterday, when I was feeling even worse, so it's… a bit different to my usual thing. Hope everybody enjoys it, anyway. Now, where did I leave the paracetamol…?
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It was a tough business, being friends with a spirit, Yugi thought to himself (and only to himself) as he pulled two slices of bread from the bag in the kitchen.
It wasn't that it was bad – on the contrary, he wouldn't give up the Puzzle for the world – it was just that, at times, it got difficult to understand. When he would wake up in the middle of the night to find Yami sitting at the end of the bed just watching him… that kind of thing.
It wasn't worrying… or, at least, he hoped it wasn't… it was just difficult to work out. Linked or not, Yami was a complete mystery to him still, even after so long.
He pulled open the fridge door, automatically pulling the Puzzle away from the chill. That was another thing – the Puzzle itself. He often entered it at night, almost by mistake, his thoughts leading him there. Sometimes Yami welcomed him in.
Sometimes he didn't.
But that was rare, when he was depressed – which only happened when he had had enough time to reflect on his own existence, or something like that, Yugi supposed.
It was a trial. Now that the Shadow magic had been dealt with, Yami spent more and more time isolated, thinking, wondering. It interfered with his own concentration; at school, usually, he would be working hard when Yami would interrupt with something like, a few days before;
Why are you going to school?
To learn and get a job, he had answered distractedly, vainly trying to cling to the complicated maths problem slipping away from him.
But why? What's the point?
To… live a happy life, have a family, learn about the world… that kind of thing. He had replied, reluctantly giving up on the quadratic formula for the moment.
Yes, but why? What difference will it make? Once you die, that's it. You're history. Nobody cares anymore… so why bother?
It was that kind of thing that left him feeling uncomfortable and could ruin his concentration for the rest of the day, which wasn't exactly healthy for his grades – he had gotten red marks on quite a few of the last tests. (Thankfully the catch-up tests were easier)
Of course he didn't tell anybody, blaming his poor marks on a lack of home study – which was half-true, after all – because then they would worry. And that was useless, since he liked things the way they were!
Besides, nobody was perfect. There was nothing wrong with reflecting upon things anyway, was there?
And every now and then would come a good day, when the old Yami would seem to resurface, disregarding his regained memories and depression. It was those times that Yugi loved, when they would spend the day duelling or hanging around in the park with their friends, just talking about Kaibacorp – there was a new theme park, Kaibaland, which Joey had repeatedly pledged to destroy – or the old duels that had passed.
Those days were growing rarer, though. And there were also the bad days.
When Yami played out scenarios in his head was the worst. It was a way of distracting himself, giving himself something to do, and Yugi accepted that… but it was scary. Not Yami himself, but what he said.
There had been one a few days ago, in fact. He had memorised it well; it had been mid-afternoon, after school when he was in his room, with nothing planned for once…
What would you do if the Puzzle broke?
It had been a question out of the blue, startling him as always, though he had only been doodling at his desk so it didn't matter, for once.
What?
What would you do if the Puzzle happened to shatter? Yami repeated thoughtfully, any real emotion hidden from his voice. Yugi frowned.
I'd put it back together, of course. He said, uncertain to where Yami was going with this odd query.
Yes, I thought so. But what if you couldn't?
Yami… He voiced in a sudden sense of doom.
What if one of the pieces went missing, say, or the gold melted or broke… what would you do? Just throw it away? Yami sounded genuinely interested.
No… I'd fix it, or look for the missing piece… Yugi said uncertainly.
Yes, but what if you couldn't? What would you do then?
Yugi found himself gripping the pencil a bit harder than he had meant to, and slowly lowered it to the desk.
I… I don't know. Don't talk like that.
I was just wondering. If I wasn't here, how would things change? How different would things be? Would they be better? Would-
Stop it!
That panicked mental shout had stopped the chain, and in the evening Yami had emerged from the Puzzle – which was becoming a rare event – to apologize sincerely, pleading Yugi to forget about it, that it didn't mean anything, almost desperate for forgiveness.
That was something he didn't quite understand; you could forgive someone, but that didn't just make it go away.
That had been a bad day.
He pulled out a butter knife and began spreading peanut butter thickly over the bread. Yami had changed, that was all. He still wouldn't consider leaving, or locking himself in the Puzzle, because Yugi wouldn't let him think like that.
God forbid that he ever thought like that.
It was always innocent enough at first. Light questions, imagined situations, that slowly began to spiral out of control until Yugi could barely stop him from doing something regrettable.
Yes. It was difficult being friends with a spirit.
He picked up the bread knife, slicing along the middle of the sandwich, caught up in his thoughts. 'The owner of a Millennium Item will continually be tested', Bakura – Yami Bakura – had said to him once.
And it was very true. He had thought that it was over, but no. This was just another kind of test - one that was much more difficult and complex than the others. But he would see it through.
The knife slipped, flashed… and his hand was knocked out of its path, just in time to avoid being deeply cut. And there was the knife - point dead in the centre of a transparent arm.
"Yugi, be careful! Are you okay? That nearly cut you!" Reproach. Concern. Relief. Emotions that were almost forgotten.
He would see it through.
Because it wasn't so hard as it seemed.