Avishipping (Ishizu Ishtar/Yami no Yugi)

. . .

"Oh…you're here again."

Yami no Yugi glanced up at the soft voice. The small room was getting dark, the sun setting and disappearing from the thin windows, but he could still see her easily enough in the light of the display cases, one hand resting almost automatically at the hollow of her collarbone just under her necklace. Ishizu Ishtar, he remembered. The Egyptian woman who had shown him this stone and explained to him that he was the pharaoh from three thousand years ago.

"Sorry," he said. "I know the museum is closing soon."

"This exhibit is always open for you," she said. "Don't worry about it."

There was something in the tone of her voice that made Yami no Yugi hesitate. What was it? What was he hearing?

He turned towards her. She hadn't moved any closer, and she moved both hands to clasp below her waist, inclining her upper body slightly towards him in almost a bow. It was a generic, respectful greeting in Japan, but something about her doing it made him feel uncomfortable.

She wouldn't quite meet his gaze, either, he realized. His mind cast back to the stone that hung on the wall behind him, the image of him as a pharaoh.

Reverence, he realized. She's treating me like a king.

His stomach twisted.

I don't remember being a king. I don't feel like one.

He licked his dry lips, and tried not to show how badly his hands were shaking. This was unlike him. He was good at faking composure in battle. But he wasn't in battle now.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, and there it was again—that underlying tone of reverence and respect, as though she weren't clearly older than he was and more established. As though he were something other than the awkward sixteen year old that he was.

"Don't do that," he found himself saying, the words tumbling out of his lips before he could stop them.

Ishizu blinked, lips parting.

"Don't do…what?"

"Talk to me like I'm a king," he said. "I'm—no matter what I was before, I don't remember. I'm not a king now. I don't know anything about it."

"Memories aside, who you are continues," Ishizu said, her brows furrowing.

Yami no Yugi felt like he was about to shake to pieces. He was suddenly very glad that Yugi was asleep, so he couldn't pay attention to this.

"But I'm not," he said, his throat tightening and making his voice drag out of him. "I'm not—I'm not who you want me to be. I probably never was. I don't remember what it's like to be older than this, there's no way I lived longer than sixteen—I'm just—I'm—I'm not your king. I'm just…"

Just a kid, he thought. I'm…I'm just a kid…

He had to grind his palms into his eyes to hide the tears that were coming. Fuck. Here he was, baring his entire soul to a veritable stranger. He thought he was better than this.

He heard her footsteps approaching, slowly, and refused to take his hands away from his eyes.

At least, until her arms awkwardly wrapped around him, and he found her pressing him in a hug.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm sorry. I put too much on you."

Yami no Yugi briefly thought about pushing out of her arms, but there was something different about this. It was more like…like an older sister…holding him gently…

He melted and let his head fall onto his shoulder. He didn't cry anymore, even as she ran her hand across his hair gently, soothingly.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I'm just a kid too. I forgot that you probably feel the same as me."

She leaned back just enough so that he could see her wry, teary smile.

"So neither of us really know what we're doing after all?"

He half laughed.

"Not in the fucking slightest."

. . .

A/N: I like this ship but it needs some careful work between the two of them imo. Next is Atticshipping (Ryo x Mana).