Beloved
AU. Originally included lyrics from VNV Nation's 'Beloved', where the separators are now. I would suggest looking up the lyrics online before reading this. It stands pretty well on its own, though.
The song is beautiful.
3.2.2004
revised in accordance with new policy on 4.30.2005
It was over.
All of the duels, the games and sacrifices…
…all over.
He – they – had finally won. Everything. Their friends were happy now. There was no danger; there were no plots; they could settle down and enjoy life.
The spirit had been thrilled at first. Then time passed.
The boy he had known grew older, as days went by. Beautiful, wide eyes of amethyst began to narrow, to dim slightly. Baby fat withdrew from his smooth face; his smile became more … layered. Had he lost that childlike innocence? He seemed sometimes to be just a shadow of that caring child that Yami had once known. Almost sad: the light had become itself dark, while the darkness yearned for that light. Yugi was aging. Every day, he saw a bit more of another side of life. Once-vivid hair thinned, grayed, and Yami…
Yami didn't age a day.
All that Yugi had needed him for, really, was to defeat the enemy. Whoever dared threaten his friends or family, Yugi knew that he could depend upon the spirit – he was, after all, the holder of the Puzzle. He may have thought that he needed a friend at first, but time went on.
He had other friends.
He had a wife.
He certainly didn't want a presence in the back of his mind, every moment of the day. Yugi continued to smile, to welcome his old companion into conversations, but things were different now. Yami wasn't needed. A dead boy, trapped inside of a golden pyramid hanging around the neck of a middle-aged man.
Yami withdrew.
Days passed. Yugi forgot to put the Puzzle on ever more frequently. Their bond weakened.
That could have been why.
That could have been the reason why Yami didn't realize it at first.
How long had it been? Even Yugi could not be this absentminded, even at his age. Yet…
The days in which he saw the man had grown fewer, farther between.
He seemed so much older every time.
How long had it been?
Yami left the quiet memories of his soul room, and entered the corridor. It took him a moment to find his voice… so disused. "Yugi," he called. "Yugi?"
There was no answer.
Then he noticed.
Yugi's door…
…was gone.
"Yugi! Yugi!"
Yugi hadn't abandoned him.
He would never.
"Oh, please… no…" A whisper, barely heard among the echoes of stone.
Their bond was nonexistent now. Where had the boy gone?
He was human.
The years had come, and gone; they had continued to pass, and Yugi was only human.
Yami was alone.
He remembered the feeling of crying. Eyes aching with release, barely able to breathe, strangely relieved but the despair – pain – anguish – still remained. Now, though, he could not.
What eyes had he to cry through?
He had once thought that, after it was all over, his spirit would be at rest.
He would be able to leave.
Instead, he remained –
He had chosen to stay with Yugi. Yugi, the light of his soul.
How could he have forgotten that?
How could he have let them become so distant?
Those heady days after the victory, the two had been inseparable. They were so happy, so confident, that the people of Domino seemed to pick up on the thrill; the entire city seemed to be glowing. Yami remembered that feeling as well.
"Yami?"
"Yes, Yugi." Yami raised his head from the grass – so soft – to look into honey-warm eyes of violet.
"What now, do you think? I mean, will it be okay just to be ordinary?"
Yami had smiled and ruffled Yugi's carefully-tended hair, earning a small noise of indignation. "Of course, partner. Everything is all right now."
A smile. "Yeah."
"Not that you were ever ordinary."
Yugi laughed. "Neither are you, for that matter."
They smiled at each other.
That tender moment had ended when Jonouchi returned with the food.
Yes, Yami remembered.
It had seemed no hard decision at the time to remain.
Older, older, taller, busier.
"Yami! Yami, guess what?" Yugi rushed in excitedly, hardly pausing to close the apartment door behind him. He grinned and flung his lanky body onto a chair as the spirit, slightly more dignified, sat opposite him.
"Shall I assume that something amazing has happened?" said Yami, laughing at the ecstatic expression upon Yugi's face. "A cure for all diseases, perhaps? Or world peace?"
"Nothing of those proportions, no," grinned the college boy. "But, ah!" He sighed happily. "So much better."
Yami couldn't help but laugh again. "You finally asked Anzu on a date?"
"How did you guess?"
"Just a guess," said Yami. "When is it?"
"Tonight at seven," replied Yugi, his grin fading a bit. "Um…"
"What is it, Yugi?"
"I was wondering if it would be okay if…"
"If?"
"If I left, uh, if I left you at home. The Puzzle, I mean."
Yami didn't think anything of it, and smirked. "What are you planning on doing, Yugi?"
A blush. "I-"
"I was joking," said Yami. The smirk softened. "I know. You need your privacy as well. It's all right, Yugi."
"Thanks!" He bounced up. "Help me get ready! I don't know what to wear!"
"How much variety does your wardrobe really have?" sighed Yami, trailing behind the eager young man.
Now Yugi was dead. His partner, friend, constant companion, had been lost.
He hadn't thought that it would happen this way. He had thought, at least, that Yugi would go down in a blaze of glory – fighting alongside him, perhaps?
That was selfish.
Yugi was dead, though, and there was no changing it.
Sometimes he heard noises in those dusty corridors, whipping his head around and expecting to see the smiling boy waiting behind him. It was foolish, he would always realize the moment after – but he felt let down somehow. He had expected the golden child to be like him, for some reason.
Foolish.
Yami hated these thoughts and feelings. Yugi was dead; there was nothing he could do.
Then he would hear a stir, see a flicker out of the corner of his eye, and it would start all over again.
"Yami? Yami, are you there?"
"I'm here, Yugi. Is there something wrong? To want to explore these corridors at night…" He gestured and laughed slightly. In truth, he was somewhat upset. It had been, by his estimation, about a week since the two had spoken. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Yugi grinned sheepishly, and Yami realized that Yugi's face was beginning to show creases around the eyes. "I don't want to bore you."
"It's all right. We are friends, after all. Sit."
The gesture made Yugi's smile become sad, wistful. "Oh, Yami, I'm sorry…" The former pharaoh stiffened in surprise.
"For what?"
"To have to come to you like this…" He brought a hand to the side of Yami's face, and the touch seared. This was the boy he knew. This was the one he remembered.
His hands were still so soft, so small. Memories layered upon memories, and Yami had to close his eyes to hold off the stinging tears. "It's all right," he repeated.
If only the moment could have been longer!
He had long since stopped pacing those empty corridors. His soul seemed desolate now; the mysteries didn't matter to him. Why care about your past when you don't have a future?
The memories were slipping from him, one by one. He reached out for a scent, so familiar and sweet, like vanilla – was it truly vanilla? what was the word? – and bright green, clean and shimmering with rain –
He reached out for a face, a smile, a blur of red and gold and black, and the proud one began to cry but why would he cry for someone who he didn't know – no, he knew him, he was the boy, the boy who looked so much like him even though he couldn't remember what he looked like
and he smelled the fresh sweet scent of grass
and heard laughter so pure and light that it could only be one person in the world but he couldn't remember who that person was -
He reached out, and he realized that he was crying.
A boy picked up a puzzle piece and examined it carefully. He shuffled its counterparts around and found one that looked like it might fit, smiling when he found the right one. They clicked together and he beamed.
"Dinner!" called a woman, and the boy replied excitedly, racing down the stairs with childish enthusiasm.
It was just a game, after all.
He could work on it later.