Psychoshipping (Yami no Marik x Yami no Bakura)

(Bakura's thoughts about Yami no Marik interspersed with scenes from their duel in Battle City...with some Y. Marik thoughts at the end.)

He was an absolute psychopath. That was what Yami no Bakura enjoyed the most about him.

The maniacal laughter echoed across the night sky. For some reason, it brought an anticipatory grin to Bakura's face.

"What are you smiling about?" the soul of Marik hissed at him.

"Oh," Bakura said, meeting the flat violet eyes of his opponent. "Nothing."

He couldn't help it. There was something absolutely fascinating about the strange, young spirit. Born of hatred, bathed in blood...it was a heritage that Bakura could only admire. The wild madness of those crazed, flat purple eyes burned into him like fire brands, and he relished the feeling.

The darkness swirled around them, tightening its strangling hold around the opponents. The tension could have been cut with a knife, pressing in as it did on the two overly anticipatory spirits. Harsh cries of trapped souls that only Bakura could hear simply heightened his elation further. Now this...this was a real duel.

It was a pity, really. If only Bakura had met Yami no Marik instead of Marik. That alliance might have been so much more enjoyable. Even before the duel had started, their spiritual pressures warred against each other. Trying to see who would crack first. It was exhilarating. Bakura wished the feeling could have lasted longer.

Wind howled past the duelists, carrying the heavy scent of monsters – real monsters – with it. This was not an ordinary duel. This was not the simple, annoying, fake games Yami no Bakura had to play in order to advance his plans. No, this was a real, spiritual game in which the loser faced death.

If not for the god, Yami no Bakura might have had him. It was a rather frustrating end, actually. He had not been able to do much more than watch Marik's soul dissolved beside him, and wait for the shadows to consume himself. If not for the god...if not for the game, even...if they had played a real Shadow Game, Bakura would have had him. For not even a creature born of hatred and shadows could have defeated the ruler of those shadows quite so easily.

Light split the sky as the god revealed itself. Screaming its challenge to the heavens, the great dragon descended upon the field. The presence of it was extraordinary. It was so thick and heavy that Bakura could hardly move. He could do nothing as his opponent merged with the best and cackled down at him. He could do nothing as the fire burned the last of his life away.

He was a psychopath. But then, that was what made him so endearing.

He laughed. He laughed as he disappeared. It was so amusing, that I couldn't help but laugh as well. That dark, sadistic smile gleamed at me until he had completely dissolved, and I experienced the delicious feeling of being marked for death by my since gone opponent. We understood each other, him and I. I could feel that. I never thought I had truly beaten him – relished the idea that he was still around. And I couldn't help but feel excited for when we would meet again...and the darkness, pain, and blood would spill between our battle...

A/N: I had waaaay too much fun writing this one. I don't think I'm allowed to write from a villain's perspective anymore, I'm starting to scare myself. Anyway, next is Psycheshipping (Mai x Roba). Hm.