Aneko: I really really really wanted to write this one. Since, like, ages ago. I started re-watching Yu-Gi-Oh!, and one of my favorite parts is when Yami loses Yugi to the seal of Orichalcos. Saying that makes me feel like such a negative person, but I promise I'm not. I just like seeing other expressions on the Pharaoh's face. I mean, he spends so much time giving that horribly burning scowl that seeing him show emotion pleases me…

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! I really don't. No, really….


Sleep in the Black

He was of the dark. A soul of the night. He could become a shadow on the wall or a whisper in the stillness. But even so, the darkness itself remained his greatest enemy.

There were many, many years spent waiting for the Chosen One to come along and complete the millennium puzzle. Years spent in the black and the silence and the oblivion of an empty mind. No way to know how fast time was slipping by, whether it was hours or days or years. Or maybe he was fooling himself so completely that mere minutes passed between the thought. He could have been sleeping. He could have been awake. His eyes could have been open or closed. It didn't matter. Nothing could change the infinite mass of his inner night.

Sometimes he believed that that was the cause of his memory loss, not his own decision to wipe his memory clean. He could just imagine it—the fierce solitude slowly eating away at the memories he held dear until they were nothing but more shadows. But even if the darkness had taken his memories, and the rest of his mind with it, he wouldn't know or be able to do anything about it. His spirit was dull, broken into fragmented pieces just like the puzzle itself, and he was lost in an unending prison.

Even when the puzzle was complete, he might still have been trapped within, unknowing of the world outside, had it not been for Yugi.

The day they met had been a cold one, the sky weeping tears of rain. They were brought together as Yugi's hands fervently worked out the interlocking pieces of the puzzle, his soul in a lonely turmoil that resonated with his own, and they both reached out with hope. More than a conscious decision, Yugi allowing him a place beside him had been an act of instinct and compassion. Perhaps that was why they did not sense each other in the beginning. Their bond was hidden beneath layers of consciousness and the fact that they didn't know it was there to look for it.

At the start, he simply watched everything from the eyes of Yugi Muto, because to a mind that hadn't known anything else for thousands of years, what else could he be? He lived in the skin of Yugi Muto, was called by the same name, had the same friends, and dueled for the same reasons. In sharing his body, Yugi had shared his very life with him. A gift he wasn't able to recognize at the time, because his mind was still mostly empty, trying to shake off the last of the shadows.

The rift happened when they dueled against Kaiba. For the first time, they disagreed, and the separation between their two selves finally became clear in one cold, stark moment. It was at once both relieving and painful, like emerging from underwater just in time to breathe. While having his own self was something precious, he could feel Yugi start to become wary of him, and the thought terrified him. The original feeling that had first united them was gone, driving them away from each other.

The darkness began to creep closer to him again. When he had first been trapped inside it, it hadn't seemed so bad. But that was because he hadn't known any better. Now, having experienced the blessed feeling of freedom and the touch of light against his skin, the darkness was like a terrible creature trying to suffocate him in its clutches. He could still remember that staggering, dizzying moment when he was first released. His soul feeling so light it could have floated away. It was a moment he didn't want to let go of, and he was afraid that if he was again trapped in the dark, he would forget, slowly over time, like a rock is worn away by the current in a stream.

As Yugi turned away from him, the wrongness of it all hurt. Not because of his fear of being once again eclipsed in the dark, but because he could feel their thin connection beginning to fray. Even though he knew very little about himself, he knew that he couldn't bear to separate from Yugi, even then. He reached out desperately with both hands to grasp at it, not wanting to part from the one who had opened the door to the light.

His gesture was not in vain. Yugi, in all of his kind innocence, accepted. He couldn't describe the relief he felt, knowing that he didn't have to be alone again. His host was not abandoning him. He was going to get a second chance with the boy, and this time, they could work together as a team with the knowledge that they both existed.

Their bond was so much stronger now, built on trust, friendship, and understanding. Now, they could speak to one another, and the loneliness diminished even further. Now, he watched everything not as Yugi, but from beside him. Between their dueling and Yugi going to school, they would talk. Yugi would tell him all about the world and how it had changed, and he would listen and learn, filling his mind with new things to replace the absence of the old.

But there were still times when the darkness was too much. At night, Yugi would go to sleep to rest his body for the next day, and he would be left alone again.

Spirits do not sleep. Sleep is something that is used by the physical body to replenish strength and function.

He wished he could wake Yugi and they could talk more, just so that he wouldn't be left with the silence and the dark, but he always held back, knowing the boy needed to rest. Sometimes, though, his distress filtered through their link, and it reached Yugi in his sleep. Sensing his partner's anxiety, he would wake from even the deepest sleep, rubbing bleary eyes as he asked what was wrong, his words slurring from exhaustion. Yugi's concern always touched him, and made him feel even guiltier for accidentally waking him, because a small part of him was always happy when it happened. Happy that Yugi could sense his unhappiness and would respond.

Those nights just made him feel even more strongly about Yugi. He knew he would do anything he had to do in order to protect this innocent soul.

There is more than one kind of despair.

Against Pegasus, when he had first started working together with Yugi, Yugi passed out from the strain of playing the shadow game. It had just been too much for his young mind to bear. He thought he had lost him then. As he shook the boy's shoulders, trying to wake him, he was afraid he would never wake up. He had felt a twinge of sadness stirring in his heart, but not that much. At that time, he hadn't known Yugi very well yet, hadn't known just how important he would become to him. He was just an innocent young boy, and if his mind was gone, it would be regrettable.

When he faced Marik's evil side, and Yugi was shackled to the Shadow Realm beside him, all he could feel was rage. How dare he involve Yugi like this? Every turn, a piece of him melted into the shadows as he winced in pain, helpless to protect himself. He refused to let this monster send his other half into the shadow realm.

There is more than one kind of despair, and the last was the most devastating.

He was the one to play the Seal of Orichalcos. He was the one who betrayed his monsters. He was the one who ignored Yugi's warning. And Yugi was the one who had to pay for it. Willingly, his young friend pushed him away from the seal and took his place. All he could do was watch in horror as Yugi's soul vanished in a haze of green light. And it was all his fault.

He didn't cry very often. He never had. Nothing ever fazed him enough to warrant the emotion. But when Yugi was taken, nothing could stop the tears that cascaded down his face as he screamed to the sky in agony. He had hurt the very soul he swore to protect. He hadn't meant to, but he had done it, and in one sweeping moment, he was alone in the darkness again. But this time, it was so much worse than being trapped in the puzzle. This loneliness hurt, like his very soul had been cleaved in two. Yugi's body became suddenly a very roomy place, with only one soul to inhabit it, and the word "empty" took on a whole new meaning.

Kaiba was furious. Not because Yugi's soul was gone (like he actually believed in such things), but because Yugi had lost. Even so, he was glad someone was angry at him, even if it wasn't for the right reason. That way, it was easier to remind him that he had done something unforgiveable.

He actually had to sleep now. Yugi wasn't there, so after being the controller of the body for an entire day he found himself exhausted. Sleeping was no better than waking. The darkness still came to torture him. During the night, he would jolt awake, his mouth open in a silent scream. This time, Yugi couldn't be there to ask him if he was alright, soothing him with his presence alone. His heart ached, and for the thousandth time, he sent an apology to Yugi and a promise that he would save him soon.

When he finally laid eyes on his soul brother again, he felt more free than he had when he had been released from the puzzle. Yugi was back, and the emptiness that had felt too big in his absence was again gone. For a long time, he just held him tightly, afraid that he was just imagining things, and that the knights hadn't brought his soul back. He held on to him as tight as he could, sorrow still drifting through their mind link—he was still so very sorry for what he had done.

Yugi just shook his head. To him, everything was already fine. Everything was back to normal and he had forgiven him.

The nights were easier now—he realized that even if he was asleep, Yugi was still beside him, and that was enough. To occupy the time he would often sit in his soul room and contemplate his past. Rather than run from the shadows, he would face them front on, and find out what was hidden there.

On other nights, he would watch over Yugi as he slept, his young face even more innocent in slumber. Yugi was so many things to him—his best friend, his brother, half of his soul. He couldn't bear to lose him again, He could still see in his mind Yugi pushing him out of the way, smiling as he paid for his mistake. He couldn't let go of the image, or change what he had done.

Those were the kind of thoughts that woke Yugi nowadays. Thoughts full of self-loathing and incrimination. If his mind ever strayed towards his memory of the Oichalcos and what he had done, Yugi would wake up no matter what. This time, he could no longer disguise his relief that his younger counterpart woke up during those dark hours. He was done trying to pretend he was strong when he didn't feel strong at all.

And Yugi understood that. The boy was willing to sit up with him for hours on end, until either he fell asleep, or both of their minds were at ease.

Sometimes they talked about dueling. Sometimes they talked about their friends. And sometimes they talked about the small, inconsequential things—the rainbow outside earlier, the TV show last night, or the flowers in the park. But nothing, even when they talked about trivial things like the weather, was meaningless. It was precious time that they could look back on later and remember.

And on some nights, when the talking still couldn't ease his troubled mind, Yugi would call to him and shift places with him.

It's your turn to have a restful sleep for once, he said. And, being watched over by his soul brother, he slept, his mind at ease.


Aneko: Finally done. I like this one. I think it turned out pretty well, personally. And it's a lot longer than I expected, which is cause for celebration. Yay!

I think there's an unspoken rule in Yu-Gi-Oh! that main characters cannot kick butt in a duel unless their life points are below a four digit number. Because it seems to happen a ridiculous amount of the time…