Ever so lightly, he thumbed the dull edge of the small, silver razor blade that was just handed to him. Out of the corner of his eye he could still see the apathetic stare of the white-blonde Egyptian the Spirit had apparently allied with while he was blocked out.

Before being pushed into some kind of half-control linked with the Spirit, he was 'shown' the gist of what the Spirit and his friend wanted and was told what would happen afterwards.

He wasn't sure if he should have been completely terrified, stunned, confused, but he could surely say that he was stupefied at the least.

There were just so many things missing for this to make any sense. It made absolutely no sense!

Before he could think past that to list the many wrongs in the situation, he felt his fingers curl around the blade in a more comfortable position by a command he didn't give.

At the back of his head he could hear him cheering him on in a honey-sweet, mocking tone, the kind of tone one would use on a child when they were doing something good and wanted them to try again.

And with an unidentifiable twist in his gut, from both their orders his right hand slashed at his left arm, sleeve rolled up, out of reach from the red liquid now dripping from the fresh wound. Absentmindedly he told himself that it'd scar and he'd have to keep that hidden. At the fore-front of his mind he was in total shock.

'It's because we finally agree on the Pharaoh and his brat's demise, for once, Landlord.' The Spirit was pleased. The insane joy was clearly unhidden in his voice and it invaded his mind even more, chilling everything it came in contact with.

Before he could even fully register that statement he felt the control he had, start slipping and the razor dug deeper in his arm. His breath would have hitched and eyes widen, if he had control of his body, that is, but the Spirit let no such thing happen, only staring boringly at his arm on the outside.

The blonde Egyptian didn't seem to notice if anything was amiss, and if he did, either he didn't care or hid it really well.

He couldn't feel the actual pain, but in his mind he painted the picture of agony and his spirit form reacted to it. He grabbed at his transparent arm, and gasped as the razor was torn out of his real arm, hitting the edges of the injury again. Falling to his knees in the black abyss that was his and the Spirit's mind, he felt the faintest caress of cold hands petting his head in satisfaction.

He never saw the Spirit outside of that one day the Spirit had first challenged the other Yuugi-kun and he was placed in the Change of Heart's card, and here was the perfect chance to finally see him for what he was.

He didn't turn around. He didn't want to.

So he flinched at the touch and shut his eyes tight, but he felt the Spirit's other cold hand lightly touch his supposedly injured arm, gently, lovingly, as if he was really hurt in their empty world. Slowly the Spirit coaxed his hand away from his arm and let it drop before suddenly grabbing said arm and yanking him upright.

He stayed still and kept his eyes shut.

His pseudo-injured arm was lifted once again and he felt cold lips smirking into the surface of his so-called injury before the Spirit disappeared. How one could describe the feeling of something 'physically' vanishing when it was in your mind, or minds, but not leaving at all, is like a ghost leaving, but the other ghosts not following. Or something along those lines, now wasn't the time to let his mind wander.

He couldn't hear anything anymore and when he finally deemed it safe to open his eyes, there stood the plain and worn door to his soul room behind him. The plain mahogany standing out amid the nothingness of their link. He didn't bother going into it though. It'd be just the same as out here, the only difference would be the interior.

The replicated falseness of his once home... From back when Amane could still play and laugh in all the innocence of childhood, from back when mother could chatter about on the phone with her friends, from back when father could still come home more often with open arms waiting for them.

But the feeling would be the same. It was all engraved memories that he dared not touch upon anymore. Some things were just better left untouched.

Left untainted.

Left untainted by the Spirit of the Millennium Ring he once used to wear affectionately, by the Spirit of the unnamed King of Thieves... By his demon.

His Darkness.

Or as Yuugi-kun calls the Nameless Pharaoh's spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, his "yami."

The Darkness welcomed him as he fell to his knees once again. And he simply stayed there for an unknown amount of time, before he finally let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and moved to a better sitting position.

He didn't know when or even really notice, when the Spirit came back, but his cold and chilling presence began to make itself known. When he did notice and acknowledge he was back, he shut his eyes in a tired fear, but fear nevertheless. He felt the coldness come closer and was able to picture someone kneeling in-front of him, but without any characteristics of the Spirit himself, since he never knew what he looked like in the first place.

All he ever knew of the Spirit in that regard, was a dark, ownerless voice that hurt him and everyone around him, coming from the gold Egyptian ring he wore in terror and dread.


Even though he couldn't see him, what with his eyes shut again and all, but he could practically see the Spirit tilt his head in real thoughtful consideration, even despite the fact that he still didn't know what the Spirit looked like.

He was shocked to hear a warm laugh spill forth from the Spirit and he looked up into amethyst eyes, fully stunned at the sight. He instinctively tried to back away, before being pulled back by the Spirit, who was looking down at him completely happy and lovingly. It sent shivers through his entire being, but the Spirit ignored that and caressed his face with a feather like touch.

He was cold, as if he held no warmth to begin with, but of course ghosts couldn't retain the same warmth as the living could. Being dead does that to you.

He started out in a soft and ecstatic voice, once again pleased that his Light was finally agreeing with him after the so many conflicts between the two of them, just about each and every time he tried to move towards his goal.

'If ignorance is truly bliss, than unaware you shall be! Your wish is my command, after all, dear Host.' It almost sickened him to hear that insane voice, the voice that now had an owner, sound so endearing and damnit all, caring. He swayed into the touch, and fell backwards into the ever-dark abyss's embrace as his vision faced once again, his mind screaming at him not to be tricked by the demon that tormented his life and very soul.

For once, he welcomed that dark embrace and felt the shadows jump in glee that he's finally accepted them. The Darkness suddenly turned warm and he felt like he was at home. The real home from his memories.

He fell asleep in the warm and comfy embrace of the Darkness... He fell asleep to the beautiful voices of what he could only describe as family and songs so ancient and wonderful, he was left in awe. Never had Darkness looked so Light and never had Darkness felt so good... He fell asleep to the comforting hugs and the most loving care he's ever felt in so long... It reminded him so much his mother holding him and Amane at night, waiting for dad, and he'd come home in the morning and embrace them, spin them around and give them foreign presents that they never once tired of...

Of the warmth of a welcoming home and family who'd never leave him. And his mind was left in a total blank for another unknown amount of time as the world went on without him, leaving him in the shadowy abyss of his own creation.


The next time he felt thoughts and feelings, emotions, coming back to him, he was in one of the most intense physical pain he's felt in a long time, stemming from his bloodied arm, stunned into unanswered confusion, and in the middle of a duel with the other Yuugi-kun...

All for reasons he couldn't quite recall or understand.


Long after the Millennium Item's have been put to rest with the Pharaoh's soul, did he begin to remember bits and pieces of things he missed out on.

Then one night, as he was about to get up to start the new day, he was hit by wave after wave of deeply repressed emotions he didn't know he was capable of... and memories that didn't exactly belong to him.

His conscious was flooded with things he didn't want to know or see anymore.

He felt the dim remains of absolute euphoria that he was actually free and finally knew of all the evil deeds his Darkness had done... and he felt such a caring and fearfully protective warmth from his Darkness's memories, that it left him hollow and freezing once he didn't have anything else to remember or know.

The Darkness didn't want to let go of it's Light. The Spirit didn't want to lose him. But the Spirit ended up being twisted and lured away from that need, all to bring about the destruction of Ra's favorite, the Pharaoh by the Dark God's will.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?... Curse Ra and curse the Gods that stood by and watched! He didn't deserve this. Neither he nor his Darkness.

White hot rage tore through his chest, the very same that his Darkness had experience and nurtured under the watchful gaze of the Dark God himself. Only then and then alone did he begin to think again.

If he let that rage take over... He'd just end up repeating the same mistake his Darkness had made a life time ago. That thought alone made his blood run cold. What if he took up revenge like his Darkness and had to fall and be ripped apart at the expense of the Gods again as his Darkness had to endure hardly a few years ago? As his Darkness had suffered for years upon years before the end?

Tears filled his eyes and he let the clear liquid fall in showers. He hasn't cried in years. But now he cried, although he wasn't sure of what. Shock? Fear? Rage? Lose? Despair? Realization? Hate? Love? Forgiveness? Victory? Defeat? Why he cried, he didn't know. He didn't care.

He just cried out in silence and fell back into the bittersweet embrace of the nothingness that replace his Darkness.

But he wasn't Light anymore now. No, not since he lost his own Lights... Not since he lost Amane and his mother. Not since he stopped praying to God and began blaming him, Ra, and every other God he could have thought of, for not taking another and tearing apart his life.

A tepid laugh escaped his mouth, hoarse and raspy from lack of use, and he laughed in that same feeling from before that he didn't know.

It was no wonder he was always such a mess. He wasn't balanced at all.

Both he and his Darkness were broken. It was no wonder that they couldn't get along or form a correct bond.

No, instead they formed a dysfunctional, self-killing, self-destructive, abyss of a bond that was so cold, so dark, and so nothing. There was no basis or form to their bond. It was just nothing. The only thing that connected them was his physical body and the Millennium Ring made of the Spirit's- of his - family, friends, and all the Spirit- he - ever knew.

Ra, forgive him. But why? Why had he been condemned to live life so broken and incompletely? Why had he been damned to suffer each and every life?

Why did he have to be the one to suffer for the Dark God's ways? Why had he been tortured so, because of the hatred the shadows made by the Dark God feed and give him? Why?

Smiling in that emotion he didn't know or understand, he muttered to himself and got up as if nothing happened, and went back to what was left of his life. If he didn't, life would leave him behind again, not that the God's hadn't already by now. Or maybe this was their way of giving him back true freedom and not only the simple destroying of the Ring? Maybe they wanted him to move past his Darkness's, his past self's, mistakes and start anew?

He scoffed and headed out to work after busying himself by finishing all his extra work that he normally would never bother with, and called Yuugi-kun for good measure to take his mind off things. Only when he was sure he'd have long periods of time by himself, did he allow himself to think about the sudden forced recollection.

"Ignorance is bliss... Indeed."


Years later as he watches the once pathetic slip of a boy, grow up to become more and more like his precious Yami, the formerly Nameless Pharaoh, Prince Atem, and take the world on by storm... did he start to feel the tendrils of undefined hatred, guilt, envy, and regret tear at his very being once again.

Oh, what he'd give to have such dark emotions sealed away in the darkest crevice of his mind once again. What he'd give to have someone else to blame such emotions on. Like how his yami, his Darkness, had done for him so long ago. How he, himself, had done so long ago.

As reluctant as his desperate appreciation to his Darkness, he finally began to recognize himself as his own Darkness after the day he somehow managed to pick-pocketed Joey and Tristan, and not noticing until after he got home and removed his over-sized, black jacket... Which was almost the same identical copy as the trench coat the Spirit had bought around the time of the Battle City Tournament incident.

He anonymously returned what he took the same night, but he couldn't shake the guilt and fear off. Even now it still lingers, among all the other collected repressed feelings he's beaten down since, joining the already large pile of jumbled emotions he made from all his adventures with the Spirit before then.

It wasn't long after that first incident that he began noticing he had moving hands. They seemed to know how to get by every password blocker, electrical system, and just about any lock he could get his hands on, in mere seconds. Things he never tried and never knew he could do, things that belonged to the Spirits toolbox of skills, but under the glistening surface, he felt no such things as guilt, remorse, or that anything was out of place.

And along with the new set of thieving impulses, he now knew, given the right circumstances, he could have, and still can, turn out like how his Darkness had. When he looks in the mirror, he doesn't see himself as a 'Light', or as Yuugi-kun says, a 'hikari', anymore. In his eyes, he's dark grey. A disturbing grey, just shades off of black.

Pit black. Endless black. An abyss as dark and crazed, as calm and cold, as the abyss he and the Spirit's link had been forged from and around.

In the world's eyes however, he's a light grey, but he now knows there's no such thing as a perfect in-between. Sure, he didn't see the world in black and white like how he used to he, his past life as the Thief King showed him that much, but he's come to believe, and rather strongly, that everyone falls into one category more than the other.

With that in mind, he went on with what was left of his life, eventually disappearing from most of his 'normal' life back in Domino, and into the shadows of everything. The shady parts of life where he could hide away from prying eyes and stand for himself, and himself alone.

Sure, he still saw Yuugi-kun and the gang every once in awhile, put up a small, sweet smile, and play along with their games in contenment, he still occasionally got calls from the blonde Egyptian, Malik, every now and again when the boy was bored, but he never fully went back to that life.

When he finally decided to leave it, more or less, completely, they threw him a farewell party, tied him down to promises of calling them more often, and cried in joy and sadness as they had to wave him off to his plane back to England.

He could taste the bittersweet tang of ruins there. He had no where else to go and anything he left at home was broken and long since forgotten. But with that in mind, he decided it would be the best place to be.

If he didn't remember it, who would? And where else could a creature such as he, exist?

He wasn't even sure if Yuugi-kun and the others had even heard about Kul Elna in the memory world. Did they try to find evidence of it? Did they try to put the poor souls turned shadows to rest? Did they even talk about it anymore if at all?

No, no they had not. Nothing changed for them after that, it was all just another adventure.

He, however, had went back to Egypt, followed vague memories of his past self as the unnamed Thief King and had spent days calming down and putting to rest the few wandering shadows that once plagued his nightmares. Now he couldn't believe that he thought his own family were monsters that wanted to hurt him. So much regret and guilt bloomed in his chest when he thought about it, but he rarely tried to talk himself out of it.

He rarely tried to tell himself that it wasn't entirely his fault, that he didn't know, but than another part of his mind would tell him it was. He could have asked the Spirit, he could have asked himself, he could have tried harder to understand what was going on rather than to get away from it...

A pitiful excuse of a self-loathing creature, he thought.


Walking down and away from the dank and dirty alley, away from the unconscious mess of a businessman, and into the misty and brightly lit walkways of London, he basked in a pride he would have been disgusted with years ago.

And as he turned another corner and came closer to his apartment of seven months, he almost tripped and fell face-first as the ghost of his past self's voice echoed in his mind.

It held so much pride, madness, despair, and humanity... He didn't notice how stunned he was until he was kicking off his shoes in the door entrance, a habit from his stay in Japan, and throwing off his black, pocket-filled jacket, and shutting the door.

Looking at the grey-blue walls and black ceiling, specifically painted to remind him of what he loved and lost and had done, the mistakes and rights. The ceiling for his shadowy followers that resided in his Duel Monsters deck, his lost other half, and the walls for the blue-white stripped shirt he wore when he decided to be ignorant of himself. Nothing in his apartment had no meaning, he made sure of that.

Even if he might only be staying for a short time, depending on the average factors most normal people had to worry about, amongst other things he wasn't happy to admit he indulged in, he wanted it to be as homey as he could make it. It was a nice difference from the small, empty, uninviting, game-filled apartment he left in Domino.

And while he didn't have the exact pieces, he had a new Monster World RPG game board in the corner of his extra room, since he gave Yuugi-kun and his grandfather his old one as a sort of apology for everything.

A small, happy smile place itself on his lips at the memory of their surprised and elated faces, before it turned sour and tired. He walked off to the kitchen to make something to eat from the long day, leaving his place at the door entrance with the repeated words of his Darkness. Less pride, less enthusiasm, some sad reminiscence, but void of the madness and utter despair of his past self. This was the twenty-first century after all.

"Didn't you know? I am the Darkness!"


Disclaimer: I own nothing, any and all rights go to their rightful owners.

... Yeah, random inspiration rocks. Nah, I actually got some parts of the idea from the previous chapter, so it's all good xD that's why it's called 'II'/part two, even thought the actual part two was gonna be something else, but this is cool with me!

I am actually fairly happy with this, especially considering I've only made it up in like what, four hours? Well, from whenever I got home from school! I wasn't sure where to put this, but I thought 'Hey, since I've already got a Ryou/Yami Bakura story-thingy, why not add this to it?' and here we are!

Review if you want, but it'd be appreciated!