75 reviews, 57 favs, 72 follows. Wow. As always, thanks so much, everyone. It's amazing to see this story so well-received. :)
Although the exact plot of this story changed pretty notably from the original, this chapter basically marks the end of the original main plot. But in this version, there are two more chapters left. If you like the way this ends, feel free to pretend the story stops here. But if you'd like a different ending that plays into the subplots of the story, then I'll see you next week for the second-to-last installment.
And as a quick note: though mystery played a slight part of this story, it was never meant to be a major focus. You'll see what I mean. Hope you all enjoy!
10
He could have called Ishizu. He had her number—she had written it down just in case he needed it. But he didn't call her. He ran out of the hospital and through town, across streets when the light was red, and narrowly escaped being hit by a car twice until he stumbled at last into the lobby of the hotel. There, he pause for only a second before rushing into the elevator—ignoring the concerned calls of the employees—and up to the Ishtars' room.
By the time Ishizu answered his pounding on the door, he had almost collapsed from exhaustion as his adrenaline rush crashed.
She tried to get him to sit down and drink some water before he explained, but he brushed off her concerns and went over everything in under a minute. Malik and Rishid had apparently gone to the grocery store, so only Ishizu was there to listen, standing just inside her hotel room with wide eyes. As soon as he finished, she strode to her desk and dug around in a pile of papers. Peering inside, he could see three unmade beds, papers strewn over the desk and some on the floor, the trashcan overflowing with crumpled-up notes. The bags under Ishizu's eyes hadn't gotten any better.
She returned with a small stack of scans, a pen, and her bag. Without a word, they started back to the hospital. Though Ishizu couldn't run in her long dress, she walked as fast as her feet would carry her, and Yami reminded himself for the hundredth time to do something to thank her.
When they reached the hospital room, Aibou had pushed some pillows up behind him, and he managed a smile as he greeted Ishizu as if nothing was wrong. Ishizu's whole face softened at the sight of him. As she asked about how he was doing, Yami pulled up a chair for her, then flopped down in his own beside the bed.
Ishizu didn't make him wait any longer. She sat down, set her bag on the floor and the scans in her lap, and began.
"I searched through the records five times for a spell meant to give corporeal form to a spirit that had died too far in the past for their physical body to be resurrected. There were many spells that drained one party for the sake of the other, but none that seemed to fit your situation," she said, her attention more on Aibou than Yami, given that the latter had been there through it all. "However, there was one spell I overlooked until now. A spell meant to give a corporeal form to different parts of the same soul."
She looked between them, her eyes appraising, curious, and just a little bit hopeful.
"If you two are correct, then this is the spell that was cast on you."
"By who, though?" Aibou asked, more awake now, though Yami could still hear how he strained to keep himself conscious.
Ishizu shook her head.
"There is no way to tell. If your … attacker has not shown themselves by now, I doubt if they ever will."
But while Aibou looked ready to ask more questions, to try and figure it out, Yami had grown so tense his fists were shaking. "Is there a way to reverse it?"
Ishizu turned to him, and for the first time in days, she looked pleased. She nodded.
"Yes. I've found a counter-spell that should reverse all the effects and return you both to your former states," she replied. She paused, looking to each of them in turn. "Are you sure you want to try this? Nothing is guaranteed. If this was not the spell cast on you, it may cause damage."
Yami hesitated. He looked to Aibou, who stared back blankly, having missed most of the explanations over the past few days.
If this went wrong … he didn't know what would happen. It could make things worse. It could kill them both. It could do something irreparable to his soul, or far worse, to Aibou's. But …
He looked at the machine. To all the wires hooked to Aibou's small, thin body. To the paleness of the boy's cheeks, far paler than before, the way he had to lean back on the pillows just so he could sit up. He had woken up, true. But who knew when he would fall asleep again. Who knew when the energy he had saved up would fail him. Who knew if he would ever wake up again. Yami swallowed hard and turned to Ishizu again.
"You think the chances are good? That it's the right spell?"
Ishizu's eyes spoke for her. "The best I've seen."
Yami nodded. "Then let's—"
"No."
The voice made both of them turn at once, staring at the figure on the bed. Aibou tried to push himself up, but his arms still trembled, like Jii-chan's overcooked ramen had replaced his bones. Yami took a step toward him, hands itching to steady him.
"Aibou?"
But Aibou was shaking his head now, his eyes tired, glazed over, but burning and desperate at the same time. "No, you … if you cast that spell, you'll die, mou hitori no boku!"
"And if we don't cast it, aibou, you'll die," Yami bit out.
Aibou flinched, and Yami's chest clenched at the thought that he had scared him. Other people he could scare. Even if he no longer approved of using fear unless absolutely necessary, if he had to, he would. But not Aibou. Never Aibou.
His face softened, his eyes narrowing with ache and overwhelming grief.
"And I won't let you die. I won't," he breathed. He shook his head, limp and helpless. "I can't."
The room had never felt quite so silent. Yami swallowed three times, but the lump that had grown in his throat would not go away. He almost missed being a spirit. Then, all he felt was the emotion, and his body didn't turn against him and stop him from getting out what he wanted to say.
Aibou's face pinched.
"But … you finally had a chance," he murmured, gripping the sheets with more strength than his tired, small hands should have held. "You were going to stay!"
Yami's face went blank. "I know."
Aibou huffed, reaching up to scratch through his hair like he did when in deep thought.
"Couldn't we wait?" he asked, turning to Ishizu, then to Yami again. "Just … just a few days? Anzu said you've hardly left this hospital room, you've just been sitting here waiting for me to wake up. You should … take some time, spend it with our friends, have fun—"
"No." Aibou paused, mouth still open, as Yami pursed his lips and clenched his fists at his sides. "You're dying. Right now. You've been dying for days, aibou! And if I wait a few more days, if I wait one more day, you might really—!"
Aibou didn't flinch this time. Yami felt Ishizu's eyes on him, but she said nothing, even as the echoes of his voice resounded back into his ears. He hadn't realized he had been shouting.
He let out a long, trembling breath and looked at Aibou, his precious, amazing, irreplaceable aibou, and felt more love than he even knew he was capable of well up inside him. More love than he had ever felt for anyone else.
"I can't risk that, aibou," he whispered, though he had no doubt Aibou could hear. "And I can't let you suffer."
"I'm not suffering," Aibou replied. But it sounded weak, like he didn't believe it himself.
Yami pursed his lips. "Yes, you are."
Aibou sighed.
"How do you know?" he asked. "We aren't linked."
Yami's eyes grew soft. "We don't need to be."
Aibou opened his mouth, but whatever he had been about to say died in his throat. Yami turned to Ishizu and stood up straighter, like the king everyone promised him he once had been.
"What do I have to do?"
Ishizu paused, just for a moment. Then she nodded in acquiescence.
"It will have to be you to cast the spell," she began. "Without my Millennium Tauk, I no longer possess the necessary magical abilities."
She took out the scans she had brought with her, apparently detailing a particular spell she had found two days ago but hadn't thought anything of until now. The hieroglyphics still looked like gibberish to him, even though he had spent three days while Aibou was at school looking through Jii-chan's books on ancient Egyptian writing. But Ishizu was fluent, probably more fluent than anyone else who had been born in this time period, and she quickly wrote down the spell phonetically, and pointed out where he would need to pronounce sounds that didn't exist in Japanese.
Yami felt Aibou's eyes on him the whole time, but he forced himself not to turn around. He knew he would have to face him. But he could put it off just a little longer. Once he had gone through the spell with Ishizu three times, and was sure he had it exactly right, he went down to the reception desk to use their phone.
He called each of their friends, as well as Jii-chan, and in ten minutes, all of them had come back. They knew, almost before he had the chance to explain.
He couldn't quite tell whether they were happy or sad. They smiled at him, smiled at Aibou, those smiles filled with relief that Aibou would be safe, would be alright, that everything would work out. But tears dripped down Anzu's cheeks, and though Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun tried to hide it, he saw their eyes glistening as well. Jii-chan just stared at him with a mix of gratitude and grief.
At first, he hadn't wanted them to come. He had considered just going through with the spell without saying goodbye. Because it would hurt. He knew it would hurt, looking at them and knowing he would never be with them like this again. And just like that day as he left school to go the museum, he had thought it would be better to just have Aibou.
But he was wrong.
It had hurt, of course. Even worse than he expected. But to see them again, to know that they were there to support, that they would still be there, in a different way, once the spell was done … he felt far less nervous, and far less alone.
He had Aibou. And he had all the others, too.
Jounouchi-kun grabbed him in a headlock and rubbed a knuckle against his skull. Honda-kun opened his mouth, then seemed to choke on tears as he settled for giving him a firm pat on the back. Anzu hesitated only a second before pulling him into a long, tight hug, and Jii-chan followed with the same, holding him, even rocking him a bit, like he were a small child about to do something very scary, and very brave.
Yami allowed himself a second, just a second, to pretend that he actually was his grandson. Then he pushed that thought away and locked it up before it could take root.
They left before he began the spell, just in case the magic somehow affected them. Only Ishizu stayed, and only because she insisted that while Yami had more magical abilities, she had more knowledge, and she could help him if something went wrong.
As soon as the room was empty but for the three of them, Yami opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Ishizu nodded and sat down in one of the chairs closest to the opposite wall, facing the door. She probably would have gone outside if he requested it. But he didn't. If she wasn't there as a reminder, to tell him that he had a time limit, he wasn't sure he wouldn't end up forgetting.
He sat down on the edge of Aibou's bed without a word. Aibou stared back, and though he clearly tried as hard as he could not to cry, Yami could see the tears in his wide violet eyes. Before they could fall, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Aibou's small body.
It took less than a second for Aibou to hug him back.
After three weeks of casual touches, three weeks of sitting together on the couch and sleeping nestled up against one another, maybe Yami should have grown used to it. But he hadn't. Every touch, whether a brush of hands or a full on hug, sent a jolt of joy through his whole body, and each time, he never wanted to let go.
Because this was his aibou. His aibou, that he could touch and hold with his own hands. He could hear his heartbeat, feel the life and warmth against him, the smooth skin of his cheek, the sharp bone of his shoulder, the gusts of breath that smelled like hamburgers or pancakes or rice. He could feel the fingers that sometimes came up to stroke through his hair if he woke in the middle of the night. He could touch one particular spot on his stomach to make him laugh like mad, or clutch him so tight he swore that all their bones would shatter.
A shudder ran through Aibou's body, his breath coming out like a sob, though he still did not cry. Yami only squeezed harder. He felt Ishizu glance at them, ever-patient, just one more minute, just a few more seconds.
It was like prying open a metal can with his bare hands when he tried to let go. Whether it was because Aibou held too tightly, or because he did, he didn't know. But at last, he stood beside the bed, and turned to Ishizu. With a nod that almost looked like a bow, she handed him the scans.
"Thank you," he said, letting all the emotion welling up inside him leak out into his voice.
Ishizu looked at him, her eyes gleaming with sadness, but only nodded again in reply.
Yami put a hand on the Puzzle, where it still rested on the little table, and faced the bed, though he couldn't bring himself to meet Aibou's eyes. He took a deep breath and began to speak.
The words made no sense to him, but as they passed his lips, he felt the power behind them. Under his hand, the Puzzle glowed, very faintly, and he found the words forming more easily on his lips, like Aibou had once described riding a bike again after years without practicing. It made no sense at first, and you wondered how you ever managed it, but then something clicked, and you couldn't understand how you ever forgot.
Tears dripped from Aibou's chin to the sheets below, but he did not try to interrupt. As the final words left Yami's lips, the room fell into silence, just for a second. Then the Puzzle flashed, bright, so bright it almost blinded him. The light enveloped them before vanishing as if it had never been there at all.
Yami's body froze.
Everything blurred. The scans slid from his hands and scattered on the floor. He heard Aibou's panicked voice, as if through a fog, felt Ishizu's hands clutch his shoulders and settle him onto something soft. A bed. Was there a second bed in the room?
A hand touched his. Warm, smaller, soft fingers. No. This was Aibou's bed. Aibou was calling out for him, his voice clearer by the second, like he was lifting his head out of deep water.
"… mou hitori no boku …"
"Don't worry, I believe this is meant to happen."
"Is he okay?!"
"The spell is beginning to take effect."
If they spoke after that, he couldn't tell. He distantly recognized his limbs being moved further, arranged like Aibou had arranged him that first night when he could barely sit up by himself. The world blurred and twisted, but slowly, after a minute, it began to clear.
Aibou lay beside him. He didn't need to open his eyes to recognize the faint warmth just to his right. He couldn't tell whether or not Ishizu had left, but he didn't hear her voice or her breath. His ears worked perfectly, but the rest of his body felt like solid lead. He struggled to get air into his lungs, and he noticed a growing ache deep in his chest. It twinged every few seconds before settling down again. He had never felt it, never heard much about it, but even someone who had never lived past his teen years could recognize his inner systems beginning to fail.
He was dying.
His heart jumped before returning to its stuttering beat. It was silly for that thought to alarm him. He had been dead for three thousand years. He had already died, once, even if he had no memory of it. This body wasn't even naturally born. But it had carried him on his own for weeks, had let him feel hunger and sleep and Aibou's warm touch, and now, it was dying.
The alarm faded quickly, though. He had heard that your life flashed before your eyes before you died. But he didn't see his life, not his forgotten one, not his new one with Aibou and the others. Instead, he saw all the things he had imagined doing, watching Aibou grow up, get married, have kids, grow old, all the adventures they would have had together as two ordinary boys.
But they had never been ordinary. And they never would be.
Or, at least, he wouldn't.
He couldn't remember ever feeling so tired, but all thoughts of sleep vanished when he heard the sniffling at his side. He opened his eyes and turned his head. His vision had blurred, but he could still make out the shape of the boy lying to his right.
And the glistening of tears as they rolled down his cheeks.
"… aibou?"
Aibou's breath hitched again. And suddenly it didn't matter that Yami's body was dying around him, that his heart was failing, that it hurt to breathe and move and exist. His aibou was hurting. He rolled onto his side, so he could see Aibou's pinched face, reach over to lay hand on his shoulder.
"Aibou?" he asked again, forcing the pain out of his voice. "What's wrong?"
Aibou's whole body trembled, and he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut before finally meeting Yami's gaze. The large, violet eyes Yami so adored had grown bloodshot, tears streaming over his cheeks.
"I don't want you to die!" he cried, the words almost like a sob in themselves. He stared at Yami as if he were the most tragic sight he had ever laid eyes on, resting his hand over Yami's own. "I never thought you'd have this chance, and now you do, and I'm taking it away again."
Yami's brow furrowed, and he squeezed Aibou's shoulder with all the strength he had left.
"You're not taking it away. I was stealing your life from you!"
"So?" Aibou rasped, his voice breaking behind his tears. "At least I've gotten to live. You …"
He trailed off and clutched Yami's hand. Yami fell back against the pillow, his energy drained, but forced his eyes to remain open, stretching his arm so they could still touch.
"Aibou," he said, with every bit of conviction, every bit of certainty, every iota of protective instinct that had only grown from the moment he awoke. "I would give up this life, I would give up my soul, my very existence, if it meant I could keep you safe."
Aibou turned his head to face him, his tears slowed, though a few still dripped onto the pillow. "Why?"
Yami wished so desperately that he had the strength to turn on his side and grab Aibou and hold him, feel his breath and his pulse and say everything words could not. But he lay there, limp, weak, barely holding himself together, and forced all those feelings into burning violet eyes.
"Because you're everything to me. I wouldn't have a life if you weren't here, because you're my whole world!"
Aibou bit his lip so hard Yami worried he might break the skin. He held Yami's hand so tight it hurt, but Yami didn't even think of pulling away. Aibou let out a long, trembling breath and closed his eyes, shaking his head.
"It's not fair," he whispered. "You shouldn't have to … give this up. Having your own body, getting to eat and run around and take showers and pick your own clothes and just … be alive."
Yami felt his mouth curling into a smile as his eyes began to droop. "I'm not giving anything up that I'm not choosing of my own free will."
Aibou's eyes opened, just a bit, still gleaming with fresh tears. Yami's smile softened.
"And I get something better in return," he breathed. He gave Aibou's hand another squeeze, even as he felt his muscles begin to go limp. "I'll be with you. All the time."
Aibou's breath hitched, but he didn't look away. "If it wasn't for me … you could stay."
"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here," Yami said, like a quiet, airy laugh. His eyes drooped. "I'd be trapped in the Puzzle. Maybe forever. I'd never have known any of our friends, I'd never have known light or warmth or laughter or happiness or anything about myself. I had nothing, aibou. Until you found me."
He tried to keep his eyes open, just a second longer. But he was so tired. So tired. And it was so easy to let go.
He listened to Aibou's breaths. They stuttered with suppressed tears, but he kept on breathing. And he would keep on breathing for a very, very long time.
Yami's eyes closed, all the air slipping from his lungs. His chest squeezed in one final attempt to keep his heart beating. But his heart didn't respond. A jolt of pain ran through him, pain that would have made him wince or cry out if he could have brought himself to move at all. Then it was gone, leaving his body, his mind, numb.
And he died.
For a moment, a split second, an eternity, there was nothing. No light, no warmth, no sound, no sight—just that infinite Darkness enveloping him, swallowing him whole, tugging him back down into the abyss that had restrained him for three thousand years.
Then there was everything.
There was warmth, so much he burned with it, yet somehow it didn't hurt. He should have gone blind from the light streaming into him, through him, until he was the Light, just like he had been the Light before he realized the Light was someone else. But now the Light wasn't someone else. He was the Light, and the Light was him.
Aibou. Aibou was the Light.
And he was Aibou.
He heard his voice, whispering in his head, felt everything he felt, untampered by the link. Those were his feelings, what he felt Aibou felt and what Aibou felt he felt again. All as one. One. They were the same, every part of them connected as they rested in the strange, far-too-familiar feeling of whole. Complete, like pieces of a Puzzle slid together. All his love for Aibou, all Aibou's love for him, melding together until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Resting in perfection, bliss that could have lasted an eternity.
And just as quickly as it began, it ended.
Yami opened his eyes and found himself standing in the muted light of his soul room. Right near the entrance, surrounded by an infinite maze, though his eyes locked on the door leading out into the hall.
The hall that held the door to his Aibou's mind. The room he so rarely entered, though he knew he would always be welcome.
He let out a breath that wasn't a breath from lungs that no longer existed. He looked down at his body—his skin pale once again, his chosen clothes instead reflecting Aibou's favorite school uniform, nothing more than a mental projection of the body he borrowed, for his own was long dead.
On reflex, his mind reached out, connecting, grasping, and in only seconds he found the familiar warmth of Aibou reaching back. Emotions trickled over the link, grief, confusion, anxiety, and so much love.
Mou hitori no boku?
Yami closed his eyes and felt a smile curl his cheeks, tension slipping from imagined muscles.
Yes, aibou. I'm here.
He was home.
He was still asleep—or resting, he couldn't really sleep anymore—when they disposed of his body.
Granted, it wasn't a body anymore, at least from what Aibou had told him. A while after he died, his body began to dissolve, fall apart, crumble, as if the glue that had held his atoms together had disappeared. Aibou insisted it wasn't nearly as disturbing as it sounded—though he was still glad none of their friends had been around to see it.
It had never been the same kind of body everyone else had. It had never been born, and maybe it would never have grown. It was pulled together by some strange form of magic, and that magic had gone.
Aibou had been discharged from the hospital once everyone had attested, and he had proven, that he was completely healthy. Though he didn't know how, Yami could feel Aibou cradling the Puzzle the whole walk home, squeezing it between warm, thin fingers. It wasn't the same as real touch. Not even close. But he appreciated it nonetheless.
The Ishtars went home that afternoon. Yami listened to Aibou thank them for all their help and apologize for taking them away from their work, their lives, but each of them insisted that they were happy to do what they could. Just before she left, when Aibou's attention was elsewhere, Yami heard Ishizu tell Anzu to call her when they planned the trip to Egypt, and she and her family would be glad to be their guides.
Yami reminded himself to thank her for not saying it when Aibou could hear.
Their friends stayed with them through dinner. Yami remained in the Puzzle most of the time, but always kept one eye open to watch over the world outside. He listened to Jounouchi-kun's, Honda-kun's and Anzu's many attempts to draw Aibou out of his quiet state, but time and time again, Aibou just gave them a small, sad smile and told them he would be fine. He just needed time.
Time. That was what everything kept coming down to, wasn't it?
Yami manifested for a moment over Aibou's shoulder to watch the three of them leave after the sun had set. They waved to him until they turned the corner and disappeared from sight, and Aibou waved back, always so friendly, so kind no matter what was going on in his own head. Yami faded away before Aibou could see him.
The house had gone quiet, the room was dark, and Aibou had already gotten ready for bed, when Yami heard the sobs.
He couldn't hear them, really. He knew they were just in his imagination. If they were real sobs echoing over from the real world, they would have sounded different. But the imagined sounds sprouted from the feelings streaming into the Puzzle, despite how hard Aibou tried to hold them back.
It had been weeks since they had been connected like this. It would take him both some time to learn to build their barriers again.
A part of Yami wished they could just leave them down for good.
He closed his eyes and willed himself out of the Puzzle, and when he opened his eyes, he was looking down at Aibou as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, his face tense as he tried with all his might to hold back tears.
Yami could just make out the tears streaming down his cheeks despite his wishes, each one gleaming in the light of the moon.
"Aibou?" he breathed, and it almost felt like letting real air out of his lungs.
Aibou sniffed, wiping his eyes with his pajama sleeve.
"I'm sorry …"
Yami shook his head, even though Aibou wasn't looking. "There's nothing for you to apologize for."
"Yes, there is!" Aibou cried, turning to face him with fresh tears reddening his eyes. "You're dead! Because of me!"
He looked at Yami for a very long time, his panting breath the only sound in the room. Yami's whole face softened, and he wanted so badly to place a hand on Aibou's shoulder.
"I was already dead, aibou," he whispered, forcing the words right into the boy's head. "I've been dead for three thousand years."
Aibou huffed. "I know, but …"
But.
He didn't need to finish. Yami knew. He could feel every image, every emotion, every thought pouring across the link like a clogged faucet unplugged.
No more sitting squashed together in a restaurant booth ordering the same thing. No more being mistaken for brothers or twins. No more two-player arcade games. No more curling up under a blanket on the couch to watch old horror movies or play video games or discuss whether the manga was better than the anime on TV. No more nestling together in bed after the sun had set, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies, breathing in the familiar yet ever so slightly different scents. No more heartbeats.
No more life.
For one of them, at least.
An impulse hit him stronger than it should have, an impulse born of so many casual touches he hadn't even tried to count them. He held back for a moment, dismissing it, but one more look at Aibou's tear-streaked face made the choice for him.
Before he could tell himself he was being silly, Yami sat on the side of the bed and wrapped his transparent arms around Aibou's solid body.
It wasn't the same. He knew it wouldn't be, but it struck him like a slap that it wasn't. That it never would be again. But he stayed there anyway, positioning himself just right so that he could pretend it was like before. So that Aibou could pretend, just for a while.
Aibou didn't move. He didn't hug him back, perhaps because he didn't dare risk it. But he didn't pull away, didn't tug straight through Yami's arms, and that was good enough. Yami could see him there, hear his breathing. And he could almost imagine feeling his hair against his cheek, the warmth of his body pressed close, and smelling the unique scent he had memorized over the past three weeks.
"Do you miss it?" Yami murmured, his voice like a breath, even though he could no longer breathe. "Being able to … touch."
Aibou closed his eyes, barely able to keep his balance without someone to hold him up as he leaned against thin air. "Yes."
Yami looked down at the top of his head, at the spikes of his hair that probably would have poked into his cheek if his cheek had been solid.
"Me too." He tightened his incorporeal arms around Aibou's body, and he swore the boy could feel it. "But I like this better."
Aibou blinked and looked up, his breath hitching in his throat, his violet eyes wide and bloodshot. "What?"
"This." Yami focused on the rush of emotions streaming across the link between their souls, and pushed back some of his own. "I could touch you if I had my own body. But … it wouldn't be like this. Maybe I can't put a hand on your shoulder, or hug you, but … I know your thoughts, your feelings. You. No two people in separate bodies could ever be as close as this. And I wouldn't trade this, I wouldn't trade you, for anything."
And it was true.
But wasn't he planning to do just that? Trading Aibou for his lost memories, for a chance to pass on to the next life some part of him had yearned for since before he could remember?
If he had thought Aibou wouldn't be okay, if he had thought for a second that Aibou would be hurt anymore so that he could remember his past, he would have given up that idea in a second. He would not watch Aibou suffer for his sake again, not like with Malik, or Rafael. But if it just meant him leaving, being where he was surely meant to be, and letting Aibou step into the spotlight he so deserved?
Was that what he wanted to do?
Was anything worth saying goodbye to the most precious person in his life?
Aibou pressed closer to him in lieu of a response, and even though he couldn't feel it, he knew it. If he pressed much closer, he would just fall through and onto the bed, but he didn't. For a moment, Yami wished more than anything that he could stroke a hand through his hair, kiss the top of his head, squeeze him tight.
Instead, he closed his eyes and conjured up every happy memory the two of them had shared. Yami teasing Aibou over Anzu, the smiles they exchanged after they had brought their friends back from Pegasus and Malik and Dartz, the quiet nights spent in Aibou's room, working on their deck, talking about school or their friends, or just sitting there, enjoying one another's company.
Every time Aibou had gone out with their friends and made sure to acknowledge him, to draw him into the circle, even if no one else could see him standing there.
He sent all that happiness along the link between them, and in seconds, Aibou's tears had stopped, the happiness that overflowed from Yami filling him to the brim. A tiny smile twitched onto his lips, and Yami smiled back with soft, adoring eyes.
When, ten minutes later, Aibou's exhaustion got the better of him and he fell right through Yami onto the bed, both of them stared, blinked, and burst out laughing.
It wasn't the same. It would never be the same again.
But what they had instead was everything Yami could have wished for.
He hadn't expected it to give him that much time.
He had also expected it to be a lot more fruitful.
Granted, he already knew the spirit of the Puzzle was deeply attached to his host, and would at least partially enjoy getting his own body, given how much he seemed to enjoy those everyday human activities. But with all that the other Yuugi sprouted about destiny and responsibility and "doing the right thing," he would have thought he would try a little harder to break the spell. Then again, he had done several weeks of work in a matter of days—well, Ishizu Ishtar had, while the other Yuugi moped—once he realized his host was in danger.
That could be good motivation, actually. The other Yuugi seemed willing to do just about anything to protect those friends of his, and likely would have given away his soul in a second if it meant saving his host. He really didn't have a good sense of priorities.
Bakura understood making sure your host survived, of course. A bodiless spirit couldn't do much of anything by itself. But the other Yuugi was far too concerned with keeping his happy.
Even after three weeks, Bakura had never quite figured out whether the other Yuugi had stayed in his body so long for himself or for his host. Living in the Puzzle didn't let him read his mind, after all. Besides, he had spent most of the time he had without the other Yuugi around to bother him poking his head through various doors and trying to find clues, something that would give him an extra advantage in the game to come, even though he doubted he could actually find the true soul room hidden within.
He had found nothing. Three weeks, and he had just as little information as when he started. He had spent a full two weeks selecting a spell to use to get the other Yuugi out of the way and he had cast it at the perfect moment, all without the other Yuugi noticing his presence, to no avail. All that had come of it was two overly-sappy spiky-haired teenagers crying over each other and a lot of wasted effort.
He rolled his eyes and huffed through his nose.
Well. He was annoyed, and perhaps a little disappointed, but it was fine. It had just been a backup plan, after all. One more opportunity for him to learn a bit more before the final step. But he didn't need it. He already had everything he really needed. And if nothing else, it had been more than slightly amusing to watch the pharaoh and his vessel actually believe they had a chance at that normal life they so desired, only to rip it out from under him. After so long waiting around in the Puzzle, a bit of entertainment was more than welcome.
Bakura put his hands behind his head and leaned back against the stone walls of the Puzzle, staring out at the maze around him. He smirked.
Soon, Yuugi and his friends would plan that trip to Egypt. Soon he would catch his runaway host—not that Bakura had really been trying until now—and he would get a half-decent body back. Soon he would steal back the Millennium Ring, then approach Kaiba Seto and give him the Eye. After that, all that was left was to go to Egypt himself and follow the other Yuugi down into the past.
It wouldn't be long now. All he had to do was wait.