A/N: :: blinks:: Wow. I'm stunned. I had intended this to be a one-shot fic to satisfy my curiosity about Yu-Gi-Oh! – I never dreamed that people would actually want more of it. I hope I don't disappoint you. Do you still want more? Tell me, please! I have never written Yu-Gi-Oh! before, and I'd really like some feedback about characterization and the like. Thank you!
Five Thousand Years
It wasn't long before I realized a serious complication in my plan to gain all seven Millennium Items. I had assumed that once I was released from the ring, my soul would knit completely back together and I would simply control the physical body that my other half had previously inhabited. After all, it was my soul, if admittedly reborn after five thousand years. It should have joined seamlessly with me and given me complete power over its vessel – what was the boy's purpose, after all, but to provide me with a physical form?
I had not counted on a separate, living intellect. I had certainly not counted on that intellect being quite opposed to giving up control of "his" body. The other half of my soul had gained a mind and personality of its own, and much to my consternation, I could not force it out.
My only choice was to suppress the other mind as much as possible. I quickly found that I could force the boy – who I later learned was named Ryou – into a place inside his head and then control his body. Of course, I did this as much as possible – but that raised even more problems.
It seemed that my vessel had developed a reputation for being quiet, reserved, and gentle. I discovered this after his father sent me to a counselor because of my "radically different" attitude. He suspected that "I" was using drugs. I quickly realized that I would have to continue to act like my host had to avoid suspicion. Frustratingly, my magical powers were nowhere near their full strength, and I could not deal with these problems the way I preferred to. I was also leery of leaving my host's hometown to find the items. He would undoubtedly be searched for, which I certainly did not want. Not to mention that during the time I was imprisoned, the world had undergone serious changes. I could survive in the back alleys of Cairo and the harsh Sahara Desert, but this new metal and glass world left me angry and confused more often than not. I had to come up with a new plan.
I finally decided that I would have to wait before I claimed the Items. I needed time to adjust to this strange new world, time to adjust to being alive again. I also gradually understood that Ryou was expected to go away in a few years, for further schooling. I could disappear then without causing undue worry.
It grated on my nerves to wait that long, but five thousand years in prison had taught me patience. A few years were barely a drop in a bucket to someone of my age. That would also give me time to deal with a far more immediate problem.
I had given Ryou back limited control over his body. He controlled it during that hellish time he referred to as "school" and at any time when he had to interact with his father. That way he seemed perfectly normal to everyone who might care about him and I did not have to sit through the agonizing boredom of a schoolroom. Of course, I made sure that he would not even think of telling anyone else about me – I can be very persuasive when I want to be. It was on one of those school days, when Ryou was walking home, that I discovered this gigantic setback.
Ryou had gotten out of school late for some reason or another. He seemed unaccountably nervous as he walked towards his house; the only reason I noticed was because I insisted he keep his mind open to me at all times. The waves of anxiety that washed over me from him were extremely irritating. I was about to chide him for it when I realized that he was walking much more quickly than normal. That was decidedly odd, since Ryou liked to dawdle in hopes of delaying my return to his body.
I found out what the problem was very quickly. An ugly, brutish boy stepped out of a nearby alleyway and set himself deliberately in Ryou's way. Now fear had joined the anxiety in his mind. I stirred restlessly in my soul room. What was wrong with my ridiculous vessel? Sure, the other boy was bigger and older, but that meant nothing if you knew where to hit. I had taken down countless thugs like this in Egypt who had mistaken my slight frame for lack of strength.
The goliath grinned cruelly and punched Ryou in the stomach. I mentally shook my head – he should have expected that. I waited for Ryou to get up.
He didn't.
Ryou lay on the ground, gasping for breath, and the thug moved in to punch him again. He was saying something that was supposed to be threatening – apparently the two knew each other from somewhere. I didn't care – it was becoming increasingly apparent that Ryou was not going to get back up.
Disbelief ran through me. I took over the body without a thought – I couldn't allow my vessel to be too damaged. The boy certainly seemed surprised when I stood up, which only confirmed my earlier suspicions. My host could not fight!
The very thought was preposterous. How could you survive without fighting? I had been a champion street fighter in Cairo, and I had assumed that my reincarnation would have similar skills. I was once again very mistaken.
I finished off the boy in a matter of moments and left. I didn't know if he was alive and I didn't care – my entire mind was bent on solving this incredibly unfortunate dilemma. Since I did not yet have enough power to take a physical form, the only way for me to interact in the real world was to use the body Ryou provided me with. I knew that stealing all of the Millennium Items would be difficult – whoever owned them would surely not be willing to give them up – and I was prepared for that, but not if my body had such severe physical limitations! I had won the fight earlier through cheap tricks and the element of surprise, but I couldn't always count on that.
I concluded that the boy would have to be trained. It began that very night.
Ryou had just gotten into bed when I addressed him. Get up, I commanded. He obeyed, but slowly. I growled slightly at the insubordination. Why? he asked me.
It is time for your training, I replied. I took over his form and ran out of the house towards a nearby park. For the next three hours I put Ryou's body through a series of calisthenics and strengthening exercises. His body jumped, rolled, punched, and ran a mile under my direction. I made sure that Ryou, still in his soul room, had a "window" of sorts so that he could see what I was doing. After his body was exhausted, I took him back to his house. The following night I made him do it again – but this time I stayed in my soul room, and Ryou controlled the body.
This set the pattern for the next two months. I would show Ryou ways to strengthen his body one night, and he would repeat them the next. At first, he was very vocal about his reluctance to fight, but he learned quickly to obey me – it was easier to do the exercises without extra bruises. I was very good at causing the most pain with the least amount of effort – no point in destroying the body I had to inhabit. I just gave Ryou an incentive to do what I asked without question.
Finally I judged him physically strong enough to go to the next level. Ryou's slender frame would never bulge with muscles, but that was good. He had a deceptive sort of strength that was not apparent on the outside, which led people to underestimate him. People had died back in Egypt for making that mistake about me. That night I did not take Ryou out of the house. Instead, I brought him into his own mind to face me directly.
Our metaphysical forms fought that night, in the first of many brutal yet effective lessons in street fighting.
Fighting in Ryou's mind was very handy, since I could not materialize into a physical body. The bruises received in the mind were echoed in the body, giving Ryou a painful reminder to improve the next time. Over the course of a month, I taught Ryou all the cheap, dirty fighting tricks I had learned in my years on the streets, as well as knife fighting and hand-to-hand combat. I was determined to make a fighter out of him, if only to be able to use his body more effectively. I also hoped that his damned smiling optimism would gradually be beaten out of him. His bloody cheerfulness about life drove me nearly insane some days – except when we fought. Then there was sadness and a grim sort of determination to survive the lesson. It was not the attitude I preferred him to have, but it was better than outright rejection of fighting techniques.
After three months, I decided that it was time for the final test. When Ryou left his last period class, I took over. I led him to the place where he had been ambushed the last time and waited, making a concerted effort to look helpless and pitiful. It was not an easy task.
Before long, my patience was rewarded. A large man swaggered around the corner, grinning toothily at Ryou. He could have been the first idiot's twin. "Well, what have we here? A little Bakura-rat out on his own?"
I dropped my "scared and helpless" act and gave him a vicious smile. He stepped back in surprise. "Hey, what gives, rat?" I simply grinned nastily at him – and gave control of the body back to Ryou. What's going on? he asked nervously. He looked ahead of him. Oh no! Yami, what did you do?
I growled a little at his impertinence (he had dubbed me "Yami" early on, a name I hated) but answered him. This is your test, I said. Show me what you have learned! While Ryou gibbered mentally in shock, the brute stepped forward and swung at Ryou's chest.
I did not feel the pain, of course, but I could hear Ryou's mental cry of anguish as he reeled backwards. The neanderthal in front of him grinned cruelly and slammed his fist into Ryou's gut. Mentally, I rolled my eyes – a gesture I had picked up in my occasional observances of Ryou's school. He always was slow to attack. I waited none too patiently for Ryou to get back up and retaliate. He could recite the best ways to attack a thug like this in his sleep, and I should know – I've made him do so.
Another punch rocked his body. I became impatient. Fight him, you idiot! What are you waiting for, an invitation?
Ryou's reply was thick with pain, but it was clear. No.
For a moment I was sure I had heard him wrong. NO? I bellowed through his mind. You worm! This is not a stupid game, this is not training, this is real! He's not going to stop just because you want him to! Fight him!
He could not respond as the repeated blows stole his ability to form conscious thought, but his intention was obvious.
Rage and disbelief in equal measure halted my powers to respond. Ryou, still cringing beneath the physical and mental blows that rained down on him, managed to choke out, I don't – don't want to hurt anyone – please, Yami! I don't want to hurt –
His statement was cut short when the bully threw him against the wall of the alley. I barely heard his scream of agony. I was still lost in the impossible, impossible answer that Ryou had given me.
Finally pure rage drowned out any thoughts I had. Don't want to hurt anyone? Damn you! I'll show you what it means to hurt!
In a flood of anger I overpowered Ryou's mind, slamming his essence back into its soul room and taking control. But this time, unlike all others, I did not lock him inside. I forced him to see outside of it – I made sure that he was completely aware of everything his body did while he was trapped within it.
Then I took out my anger and frustration on the pathetic swine's hide.
I let my rage run unchecked, searing through my brain and burning within my veins. Each blow I delivered was one more grievance, one more hurt; it fueled my wrath until I couldn't see through the haze of red that clouded my vision, couldn't hear my victim's desperate screams, couldn't feel Ryou pounding on his soul room and screaming in agony of his own as he begged me to stop, just stop...
Finally my blows slowed. I let the long-since-motionless body fall to the ground with no more notice than if it was a clod of dirt. My hands trembled as I locked them into fists, my heart beat erratically, and my breath came in short gasps. The rage had left me cold, burnt out, and empty. I shivered uncontrollably, irrationally wishing for the anger to come back and fill me again. Without it I was so cold…
I stopped my shaking with a force of will. I had not gotten this far without iron control over my emotions. I forced myself to focus, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I was aware of Ryou's presence within my head. His emotions were easy to read – shock, absolute horror, and an agonized sadness radiated from his mind. He seemed to be beyond words.
The cold emptiness that follows rage closed in upon my mind. At once, everything became crystal clear. I knew exactly what I had to do.
When I spoke, my voice was clipped and emotionless. "You no longer have any use to me." Ryou's mind was dazed and uncomprehending. "You will only get in my way."
That seemed to snap him out of it a little. What are you talking about? he cried. Then his thoughts turned right back to the body lying at his – our – feet. Yami – I think you killed him! How could you? How could you murder someone like that?
Was he questioning me? My anger was coming back now, and I welcomed it, rejoiced as its pure fire cleansed my thoughts and emotions. How could he be so blind? If I hadn't killed the man, he could have killed Ryou. That was life – kill or be killed. How could he, my other half, my bloody reincarnation, not understand that?
How dare he not understand that!
The simmering heat of my anger blazed up now and I reveled in it – yes, this was better, this was so much better than the empty void I had felt a while ago; my anger coursed through me and its harsh current filled me with blessed life. Now I could think; now I was powerful and alive. I had wasted so much time, teaching and molding my other half, and he now cast off my labors as worthless! He was supposed to be the other half of my soul, my completion, and yet he refused to fulfill his destiny and mine by joining with me. I had showed him the bitter truths of life and he rejected the facts that stared him in the face. How could my other half be so naïve, so innocent?
So stupid!
"If you will not fight with me then I have no use for you," I snarled, fury giving me clear direction and purpose. The Millennium Ring materialized around my neck and glowed radiantly. "Perhaps this will force you to have a change of heart!" I ripped Ryou's dueling deck from his pocket and pulled out his favorite card.
The magic was completed in less time than it took to breathe. I held Ryou's soul in my hand, within his very own Change of Heart card. I made a convulsive movement, as if to rip it in half.
I couldn't do it.
I stood trembling with the card clenched within my fist, willing my body to tear it, demanding my hands move. They stayed stubbornly still, save for the shaking that was gradually growing worse.
An echo of the past came to me – of the Pharaoh sealing the ring mid-spell, ripping my soul in pieces. I remembered the endless agonies of the ring, as the pain became my entire existence. I remembered the day that it stopped.
No matter how angry I was with Ryou, no matter how much I wished him gone, I could not force myself to destroy him. I could not willingly accept that pain again. I knew it, deep within myself, and even as I cursed my weakness my hand moved and placed the card back into Ryou's – no, my – deck. I replaced the deck in my pocket.
Ryou's form was mine now, to control as I pleased, and his training had made it strong enough to suit my purposes. Nothing stood in the way of my mission. It didn't matter, then, if his essence still lived. He could not escape the card. It was not through any consideration for my other half that I did not destroy him, it was common sense. And perhaps being trapped was a more fitting punishment for his betrayal than death. At least I had gotten rid of his constant presence within my head.
So satisfied, I turned and walked out of the alley, ignoring the curious emptiness that seemed to be spreading through the back of mind. I looked down at my hands and sighed in aggravation. I would just have to hope that I didn't run into anyone until I had washed the blood from my hands.
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