Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.

Hn. I'm tired. You two wore me out again.

I hate that.

I hate you. Both of you. You can't possibly understand how much. You can't possibly understand why.

...Perhaps Bakura does. Or guesses. But you, Tristan, you certainly don't. And I have little intention of explaining. Why soften you up before your death?

And I will kill you for this. Don't doubt it. Once I have the Items you'll be gone. Bakura's death will be painful, but quick--he's aided me well enough, after all, and even more so as time goes on. But the same will not be said of you, Tristan. Your death will linger. For as long until I feel merciful, and I assure you that will be a very long time.

I hate you, after all. You and your assumptions. You and what you've forced me into. The extent to which I hate you sickens even me, and I thrive on hate.

If you had a brain above your torso, you would start running. I assure you, you'd prefer a knife in the back far more than the things I have planned if you stay.

But you stay anyway. Because you 'care' for Bakura.

Idiot. A blind man could tell how much your intrusion has deadened him. I can see, and I don't even give a damn. Hmph. And you think I'm the one who hurts him.

Well, you weren't wrong about that. Much. But your arrogance still makes you incorrect.

You assume that Bakura is nothing like me, but you are wrong. We share more than a name, you know. You wouldn't believe me, and I have no intention of telling you, but I used to be kind once. I used to be very like Bakura when I was a child. Until I was shown the true power of the darkness.

But that is none of your business.

Do you begin to grasp my meaning, mortal? Bakura is me. He has every potential to become what I have.

Which is why he had to be broken immediately. I don't need competition from myself.

A few words, a few injuries, and the complete and utter removal of his control, and I had nothing to worry about.

And then you interfered. Though, to be honest, you've done a better job at destroying him than I was. I would never have thought of this method. I had no reason to touch him before you came in.

Some part of him, I'm sure, is aware of that. Some part of him knows you are to blame.

And yet he doesn't let me throw you out, and he doesn't let me kill you. I'm not certain if it's his apathy or some lingering trace of affection that causes him to continue to protect you. He could make it easier on both of us to get rid of you, or let me do it. I might even treat him well if he did.

But to kill you I would need his permission, and I say that with all the loathing you can imagine. I hate being shackled. But he has the power, because all he has to do is remove the Ring and I'll lack the sufficient energy to materialize. I'm only here because he wants it.

I hate that you don't understand this very simple fact. I may have ordered him to let me appear the first time, but he could always stop me, if he wished to take the consequences. And if he didn't think you would be worth the price of my wrath, he could always end this entire relationship. I would certainly lighten up on him if he did--and he should know this.

After all, the reason I hate you for fucking him is not so much that he's mine as that he's me.

By knowing where his weak spots are, you also have an inkling of mine. And that is all the reason I need to hate you.  The both of you. You've come beneath my defenses with my unwilling consent.

You have no right to know me so well. You have no powers, no Items, no strong connection to the Pharaoh or his brat...you're useless to me. Unworthy. But for a brief time, you interested Bakura, so now you're here. And I'm here. Because I could never allow someone to get so close to an aspect of myself without my control of the situation.

I would never make myself this vulnerable to even Bakura, who, despite all I've done to him, does not wish to lose me.

After all, I'm the only thing constant in his life. I'm the only one who will never leave him unexpectedly.

You have no idea how much favor this means that he gives me. Perhaps if you weren't blind, you would see it. I hate your stupidity, too. What on earth first drew him to you, I'll never understand.

I can see you reach out and draw him closer, and I can sense his dislike. You can too--do you think that whimper was my fault? Is that why you're glaring? Baka.

Not to be out-done, I reach out and stroke his back. The gesture calms him after his original startlement, though I don't know and don't care why. He knows that these hands will kill him some day, but he still relaxes under them quicker than yours.

Do you hate that?

Good.

Pissing you off is the only--small--pleasure that I get from this arrangement. Other than the obvious.

But it doesn't change the fact that you have any kind of power over me, no matter how small. I hate that I was forced into these actions. I hate that he started this in the first place.

Please, move back, he asks me. I can't breathe.

I rest my hand on his neck and don't move. I can hear him sigh resignedly through our mindlink, though he's careful not to let any audible noise slip out.

I hate him.

I hate you.

I hate what I've become.