Just a drabble, came up with it right before going to bed, so I don't think it makes much sense.

Disc: I don't own anything.


.Never.

He never truly believed he was forgiven. Not after everything he had put them through. He put on a mask, telling them he'd be awaiting their next meeting.

Lies. All lies.

He could never believe in their forgiveness, and he could never truly stop hating the person who had so-called saved him from his other half. Who ever told the almighty pharaoh that he needed saving? He was fine with disappearing into the shadows. It was the least he could do to repent, was it not?

But deep down, buried under all those layers of guilt and self-loathing, cried a voice that would never be heard. No, it wasn't my fault--please don't send me to the shadows! He himself never bothered to listen to the voice of a little boy whose childhood was nothing more than a nightmare. When but a mere child is put through such an experience, his life truly would never be the same, even if he had never created his dear entity of darkness. His father was proof of that, no?

Never will he forgive himself for all he had done. Never will he be able to look at the pharaoh's incarnate and his friends without wanting to purge himself into the Shadow Realm; never did he look into those innocent amethyst orbs and not think of the king who had been the one he came to loathe.

He truly did not believe any word, any gesture from them all. Including himself. Those smiles? Forced. Those kind words? Fake. Their forgiveness? Lies. His hatred gone? Certainly not.

And he hated himself, most of all. Despite his words, that hatred stayed, if not temporarily pushed away. Yes, he saved him, but all the more to despise. He wanted to fall into the shadows, after all. Just once, can't the overconfident king pity his lowly servant? No. Never. That hatred will stay and the knowledge only fueled his hatred more. More hatred, grow, grow, fester and spread. Guilty, regret, sorrow, pain, everything that had created his other personality was still there: lowered and nearly gone, but still very there. Regret at what he'd done, guilt for putting his dear sister and loyal brother through so much heartache, why could he not let go?

He never could.

He never will.

He will never allow himself to.

But then again, he never really did hear that saying before. How did it go? Oh, yes.

Never say never.


This is Marikcentered, if you hadn't already figured that out. I know most people refer to the hikari as Malik, but Malik always reminds me of malice, despite what it means, so Marik is the hikari here.