TRIGGER WARNING for Atem's long-windedness.
This chapter is very information heavy; it drags a bit, but the background is necessary! Inspired by Esama's interpretation of shadow magic from her wonderful story King's Jackal, now regrettably removed from the public domain.
Disclaimer: If you recognize any names, terms, or concepts, that's because they are not mine.
CHAPTER 4 - Reluctance and Revelation
Consciousness was slow in returning to Harry. His eyes were bleary and gritty, his mouth cottony with thirst, his head light and cloudy. The room was warping oddly around him, he noted, the colors oddly bright. It took him far longer than he would ever admit to recognize that he was in a hospital room under the influence of some powerful painkiller. Memories of the battle in the game shop slowly returned to him, and he wondered how he had managed to defeat the final wizard. It was utterly impossible, after all, that old Mutou Sugoroku had brought a Duel Monster to life. The second he was able to gather the strength (twenty minutes later), he pulled himself up out of bed and stumbled to his feet, looking fuzzily around the room for his belongings. He found the Resurrection Stone and his glasses, shoes, and trousers (pockets still thankfully containing his wands, wallet, and the Invisibility Cloak – thank Merlin for Muggle Repelling charms) in a plastic bag near the foot of the bed. He scrawled a quick note in shaky Hiragana characters using the paper and pen on the night stand – Bill me, with his address and phone number – and left it on the bed, before Apparating directly into his apartment.
He stumbled when he landed and had to hang on the arm of his couch, dry heaving, until the world stopped spinning and he was able to stand without his knees collapsing beneath him. He took a deep breath before staggering over to his trunk, digging around until he found the professional medical kit Molly, Hermione, and Andromeda had conspired to arrange for him. His first order of business was to purge his system of whatever Muggle analgesic the doctors had used; Muggle medicines sometimes interacted strangely with magical remedies. The appropriate potion had him noisily vomiting into the toilet until his mouth and throat burned, his eyes streaming saline. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on his fist to stifle the cry of pain growing in his throat now that the painkiller was gone. He quickly grabbed the next potion, which temporarily deadened inflamed nerves – highly addictive, and quite toxic even in moderate doses, but he only needed a few drops to clear his head enough to treat the wound.
Seated on the edge of his bathtub, he slipped off the papery hospital gown and peeled away the bandages. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath to stave off nausea, and examined his torso. The oozing, burn-like wound was a full foot from top to bottom, and stretched from the middle of his front, just past his navel, all the way around to his spine on the back. It was deepest where it had struck on his side to the point that his ribs were visible, but it was only mildly irritated and red at the fringes. The doctors had certainly done a good job treating him, he mused. One of the greatest challenges in treating high surface area wounds like Harry's was the incredible risk of infection, but it looked quite clean to him.
He dug around in the medical kit once more, pulling out a thick salve made of dittany. He spread it around the wound with clumsy fingers, barely able to look, but immensely grateful that couldn't feel a thing due to the nerve-deadening potion he had taken. He cast a Sanitation Charm on the bandages from the hospital, awkwardly rebound himself, and staggered off to bed.
Half a day later, Harry's stomach demanded he awaken. He tentatively pushed himself upright, anticipating excruciating pain, but only feeling the unpleasant tightness and stinging of a strong sunburn. He sighed, relieved, and peeked into his bandages to see that the concentrated dittany had done its job; the wound was only open at the point of contact, now, the rest of the skin swollen and an unpleasant purple-red, but healed over and uninfected.
He stumbled into the kitchen and devoured the cold leftovers of a roast lamb dinner Kreacher had brought over a few days prior. Temporarily sated, he adjourned to the shower to bathe for the first time in days. Despite desperately wanting to return to bed, Harry knew he had to dress and head over to the game shop to inspect the damage. He hoped he would be able to explain what had happened in a way that didn't involve magic, but he knew that Sugoroku had at least heard the incantations from in the stock room, and may have seen something when the stray curse had destroyed the back room door (and he was sure it was a stray curse, it could absolutely be nothing else). His part-time employer would have told his grandson and his grandson's friends by now, and Harry's explanation would have to satisfy all of them.
But Harry just really couldn't be bothered to think of a decent excuse right now, not when he knew nothing of what had happened since he had passed out. He couldn't afford to have them Obliviated before he got an accurate explanation. It would probably be best to answer a few questions about the wizarding world for them and hear what they had to say. Maybe he wouldn't even have to report them to the Department of Muggle Relations, he thought hopefully, if they didn't seem too freaked out and promised to keep quiet about it.
Mind made, Harry shuffled out of his apartment and took a taxi to the shop, not feeling up to the normally easy fifteen-minute walk. He hopped out of the car and walked up to the door, about to enter when movement through the window caught his eye.
He froze for just a moment, heart pounding like a war drum, before sharply pulling himself against the wall beside the window, out of sight of those within. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and peeked in again. Merlin's saggy left testicle, he gasped silently. Inside were Yugi, Atem, Ryou, Bakura, Jounouchi, Otogi, and Marik, either standing around talking quietly or sweeping away debris and organizing merchandise into piles. But they weren't alone. Yugi was pointing the Feral Imp to the back of the shop to sweep. Atem was directing the Obnoxious Celtic Guardian to move a shelving unit away from a hole in the floor. Jounouchi was grinning at the Armored Lizard as it hammered a nail into the board he was holding up over the broken window on the other side of the store.
Harry watched for a moment, hoping against hope that the monsters were just Duel Disk projections, but knowing that holograms couldn't hold brooms or hammer nails. His couldn't decide whether he wanted to run home and sleep, sure it was a hallucination, or go inside and get a closer look. His decision was made for him when Yugi, who he'd been sure hadn't so much as glanced his way, looked back over his shoulder and called out to him.
"You can come in, Harry-san. I promise the monsters won't hurt you." The others in the shop glanced back at Yugi's words, but seemed more resigned than surprised or guilty.
Harry stepped in tentatively, his shoulders hunched, hand fisted above his pocket, ready to dart in and grab his wand at a second's notice. Constant Vigilance, he thought a bit hysterically. He sucked in a breath as the monster nearest to him, the Celtic Guardian, gave him a faint nod. Harry nodded back automatically, stiffly.
"What– What are they? I mean, how are they even here? And- and real?" he said finally, faintly. The others exchanged glances, before Atem spoke.
"I suppose congratulations are in order, for your first official introduction to the wonders of Shadow Magic."
Shadow magic…? What the hell? Harry's thoughts were racing, and he had yet to even consider a response to Atem's rather lofty declaration.
"We're what you call shadow mages, Harry-san," Yugi said tentatively. "It means we can access a type of magic that lets us summon monsters from the Shadow Realm. Duel Monsters the game is based on the creatures that live there."
Are these people some kind of demon summoning cult or something?! His mind was screaming at him to get away, to run before they sacrificed him to their dark gods, or just plain killed him for learning their secrets. He recognized, distantly, that they were all terribly calm about what he had just seen, and didn't seem to be reaching for any weapons with which to silence him, but his war-born paranoia was in full swing. He clamped down harshly on his instincts, going for some kind of cool, confident façade to let them know that he wasn't afraid, but all he managed was to keep his legs straight and strong beneath him. He took a deep breath, watching them all closely, noting again their complete lack of surprise or concern at seeing him. He decided to address that later, and turned to question Yugi further on his "Shadow Magic."
"And what exactly is-" Harry started, but was interrupted by Atem.
"I think, perhaps, you owe us the first explanation, Harry," he said sternly. "Grandfather has told us what happened, how you and those three others battled with some form of magic and did this damage to the shop."
"Hey!" he said, affronted. "I'll have you know I handicapped myself in that duel, only used Stunners and similar so I didn't damage the shop. But, um, that's not the point, I guess," he muttered at the end, a bit embarrassed by his outburst. He shifted uncomfortably, his side tingling unpleasantly.
"Maybe we should move into the house," Ryou frowned. "I can't believe they let you out of the hospital already. It's only been two days! Grandfather Mutou told us about your injuries. It seemed serious."
"Oh, they didn't, really. I, uh, I don't really like hospitals, so I let myself out," Harry admitted. "I'm fine, really," he continued when Ryou looked about to protest. He turned a fraction of his attention to his surroundings, looking around the shop to gauge the damage. "Before we move, let me fix this up." Harry knew from experience that if you wanted information, you had to be willing to offer some up in recompense – and he suddenly had a whole lot more questions for them. And if he was going to tell them about the wizarding world anyway, as he had been planning, then the least he could do was repair the damage to the shop. He pulled out the Elder Wand, needing the power boost in his impaired state, and cast a silent Reparo. He glanced around and took in the dumbfounded expressions of both the humans and the monsters as glass reassembled, dust cleared, shelves reordered themselves, and the hole in the wooden floor filled in. Jounouchi let out a startled curse, and he heard a faint gasp from somewhere off to the side, but otherwise they all seemed too stunned to react much.
"Right. Yes. Let's– let's move into the sitting room, then," Atem spoke in a slightly strangled tone. Yugi, Atem, and Jounouchi nodded to the monsters around the room, murmured 'thank you' and 'you can go' to send them off, and they all shuffled out and across the lawn, a little shell-shocked.
"Harry, what…What the hell was all that!?" Jou was the first to speak. Harry took a deep breath, and looked around at all of them. Yugi, Marik, and Ryou had settled on the couch across from him, Atem resting a hip against the arm. Otogi and Jounouchi had claimed the love seat adjacent to the chair Harry was seated on, and Bakura had settled against a wall at the back. They were all staring at him.
"Right. Well, first of all, please keep in mind that what I'm about to tell you is very, very secret. You can't repeat this to anyone. I'm breaking a huge law by telling you, but I really want to know about those monsters, and I don't think you'd tell me about them if I didn't come clean.
"So. I'm a wizard; I can use magic. There's a bunch of us, living secretly from Muggles– er, non-magical people. We've got our own government, own schools, everything. I'd like to ask some questions about what happened to the people who attacked me, though, before I go into more detail." He waited for Atem's assenting nod, before continuing.
"Where are they? I know they were all incapacitated at the end of the fight, but what did you do with them?"
"The two survivors are currently bound and gagged in the stock room of the game shop. We took those sticks from them, the ones Grandfather said you all were using to cast your magic. Only one of them has awakened, but he was not coherent when we tried to question him," Atem responded succinctly. Harry nodded.
"You didn't happen to check them over, did you? Notice any strange markings they all had in common? Tattoos, for instance," Harry asked. In a macabre way, he hoped they were Death Eaters. If they were, the reason behind the attack was clean and clear-cut, no real need to dig further.
"Yeah, when we tied 'em up, they both had this funny tattoo in their arm. A snake and a skull. Kinda creepy," Jou answered, shuddering a bit. Harry huffed out a breath, relieved.
"That makes things simple, then. They're Death Eaters, a group of terrorists I had a hand in disbanding a couple years ago. They probably came looking for revenge. Can't believe they already found me when I've only been here less than a month," he muttered. Someone must have recognized him when he had visited the Ministry the other day, a Pureblood sympathizer, maybe, or simply a gossipmonger.
"I'll have a word with them in a bit, before I hand them over to the Aurors," Harry said, before continuing with his explanation of the wizarding world. He tried to stay as succinct as possible to keep from overwhelming them, to give them a just condensed history of the magical world and an outline of its society, but he was forced to give rather full accounts at times when they asked specific, personal questions, such as about Hogwarts and his magical career. When he told them the truth about his consulting job – that he dealt with dark wizards who abused soul magic – Yugi and Ryou exchanged somewhat nervous, concerned glances before changing the subject quickly. The presence of the Death Eaters unfortunately compelled him to mention the previous war and its causes, and he was only barely able to keep his personal role in it a secret from them, instead suggesting that anyone over legal age had fought then; his personal fame and his rather unique adventures were something he wanted to keep secret for as long as possible.
When they had finally run out of questions over an hour later, they decided to have a quick lunch before it was Harry's turn to be interrogator.
"Harry-san, this is all just so amazing! I mean, I know I just saw you using magic, but to think there are entire magical nations… Will you show us Maho-Chome sometime?" Yugi asked. Harry hesitated, knowing what his answer had to be, but upset that it was even a concern in the first place.
"I- I can't really say," he said finally. "I'd like to, but I can't really promise anything until you tell me about the solid monsters." The implied I can't trust you yet echoed loudly through the room. The mood became just a little bit more somber.
"O-oh, of course…" Yugi said, a twist of hurt passing across his expression. Harry felt vaguely as though he had just kicked a puppy. He bit his lip and spoke again. "Um, are there any specific questions you wanted to ask first?"
Harry struggled for a moment to find his words, grateful despite himself that the others seemed content to wait patiently for him to gather himself. He started slowly
"You guys didn't seem particularly surprised to see me there, before," he spoke with a heavy tongue. "And you don't seem disturbed at all. Like you were expecting this." By the end, his manner had grown accusatory, but he didn't care to curb his tone in light of the situation. Either accusatory and angry, or nervous and scared. Would rather be challenged than hunted.
He needn't have worried, however. No one seemed perturbed by the insinuation. He saw Otogi and Jounouchi nod their heads off the side, and up beside Atem, Marik simply shrugged. Yugi was the first to answer him.
"It's true, Harry-kun," Yugi began nonchalantly, as though Harry wouldn't notice the suddenly more casual, friendly form of address meant to placate him. "We could all tell right when we met you that you had the potential to use shadow magic. It was just a matter of time before we introduced you to it. And we knew you were there because of that potential, we could sense it, a little."
"What do you mean 'potential?'" Harry asked, a little disturbed at the implication that they had been able to magically sense his presence as he had approached the shop. Ryou was the one to speak up this time, his voice soft and gentle.
"What you have to understand, Harry-san, is that the Shadows are attracted to people who have space in their soul. Like people who've been hurt so much that their souls have split with the pain, or people with some inborn affinity for them. People who just aren't whole anymore, or maybe never were. The Shadows seep in, fill in the cracks and holes, and make you whole again. Maybe not the same as you were, but at least not broken anymore." His voice was quiet, soothing, but Harry couldn't help but stare at him in horror. Torn, broken souls? Dark magic filling in your soul? Merlin, I have to do something.
"Oh, please don't be upset, Harry-san! I know it sounds horrible, and I know this is the kind of thing you're trained to look out for, but it really isn't so horrid and unnatural as that," Ryou cried, correctly identifying his expression. Harry just shook his head and started to stand up, wanting to speak, but unable to find the words to express the gravity of his thoughts.
"Look, Harry, just wait a minute, okay?" Marik spoke, hands raised placatingly. "I know you're weirded out, and I promise we're not gonna keep you from leaving, but please listen to what we have to say. Just let us explain. I promise we're not all horrible dark criminal occultists." He tried for levity, but it fell flat in the face of Harry's grave expression.
He was silent for a long moment, staring around at all of them. He took in Ryou's concerned face, Yugi's pleading one. He saw Marik, Jou, and Otogi all looking at him with vaguely hopeful expressions, and Atem regarding him calmly. He glanced finally at Bakura, who was, naturally, just staring disinterestedly at a wall. Oddly, it was this last one that convinced him. Bakura was being an aloof asshole, all was right with the world. He snorted shortly, before nodding and sitting back down.
"Fine, talk," he said, voice completely devoid of emotion, staring straight into Atem's dark red eyes. He heard a few sighs of relief, but he ignored them in favor of Atem, who had simply nodded before pushing himself off the arm of the couch and striding forward to lower himself into the armchair diagonal to Harry's. He sat with his legs crossed, arms flat on the armrests, back rimrod straight. He looked like royalty. The others settled around him, content to listen to Atem speak.
And speak he did. He told Harry about the existence of shadow magic, an old, deep sorcery used by the Ancient Egyptians for entertainment and punishment. He told of a Dark Lord that had sought dominion over the shadows, who had been partially sealed away three thousand years ago by a strong-willed Pharaoh with the help of seven golden objects that were able to control the Shadows to a greater degree than any human could manage on his own. How less than ten years ago, those seven objects had all resurfaced and come together, calling to the shadow magic that had remained dormant for millennia. He briefly and vaguely mentioned how the wielders of those objects were able to completely defeat the sealed Dark Lord, and how the objects were sacrificed to the Shadows. The powerful ceremony intended to completely seal away the Shadows had failed, however, when additional sacrifices were not offered. It had instead merely imposed limitations upon the Shadows, made them less potent, less malicious, and more malleable.
Ubiquitous and hungry as they were, the Shadows sought out those humans with space in their soul for them – those who had been severely traumatized, or who were corrupted and cruel, or who simply held some propensity for shadow magic. Now, a few years after the ceremony, a burgeoning summoning community was developing. Apparently, some of those meeting the requirements to accept the Shadows and who happened to be involved in high-stakes ventures were suddenly finding themselves paying terribly heavy consequences for losses. More commonly, gamers playing Duel Monsters were shocked to find their monsters coming to life and blasting their opponents away. Since then, preeminent shadow mages had been travelling about, following rumors of soul disappearances and of monster appearances, finding shadow users, and inducting them into the community for support and guidance.
"Right. Okay. So. Um…is this the part where you give me a vague talk about secrets, and my best interests?" Harry questioned weakly. He was gratified to receive several amused snorts and grunts from around the room; they didn't seem to be in nasty enough moods to want to kill him right now, he thought crookedly.
"Ha, no," Atem shook his head. "You may tell whomever you wish about us, and what we do. I doubt you will find many are willing to believe you, if they are not already aware of the Shadows. Those that will believe are likely those who know you well enough to tell pranks from truthfulness, those who know you best, dear friends and family. Such people are welcome to know," he finished calmly, with a soothing smile.
"Right, good… Um, I get the impression that you guys are really important to this whole Summoner community. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you guys are the wielders of those objects, the ones who got rid of that Dark Lord and limited the Shadows." Harry spoke directly.
"You'd be right about that, boy," Bakura spoke for the first time that evening, even deigning to look away from the wall at him. "Ryou, Yugi, Atem, Marik and I all wielded Millennium Items. Don't ask anymore about that, it's none of your business." Harry nodded in acquiescence, fully understanding of the desire to keep personal secrets.
"Fine. But what do you guys do, exactly? I mean, that first question I asked, you guys are sort of central to other shadow users, aren't you." He didn't phrase it as a question this time.
"Atem and I are the Kings of the Shadow Mages, Harry. Or the King and Pharaoh, if you want to be specific." Yugi spoke gently, but his tone could not really detract from the shock of the statement. Atem picked up where Yugi left off.
"We earned those titles by being both the most powerful of the shadow mages, and the most talented of the duelists. I was raised to believe that it is the responsibility of those with power to protect and govern those without. This modern era is perhaps not conducive to the sort of governance I was once accustomed to, but the point still stands. Yugi and I are the central figures of this community; it is to us all other shadow users and summoners turn for guidance. We surround ourselves with trusted allies, if not necessarily agreeable ones, who advise us and assist with governing.
"Those advisors, you see before you. This is not the entirety of our council, of course. Some had prior arrangements for this evening, and some are overseas, or are not on particularly good terms with us. They are nevertheless extremely knowledgeable and powerful shadow users, and their input is welcome and valued.
"That is not to say we hold any sort of official position, of course. In most aspects of their lives, mages fall under the jurisdiction of the government with which they claim citizenship. With regard to the use of shadow magic, however, they answer to my partner and me. We make ourselves available for questions, and respond to requests for aid. We intervene in cases of conflict between shadow users, and try to have issues solved with civility.
"When summoners use the shadows for crime, however… When they initiate a Shadow Game against an ignorant, or summon a monster that assists the user in committing crimes, we give no quarter. We respond to such situations with all possible swiftness, and without mercy. The Shadows are very dangerous, even limited as they are; for all that are a balm to the spiritually wounded, they yet exacerbate corruption, should a person fall prey to them. Someone who abuses the Shadows will continue to do so unless stopped; they cannot help it," Atem finished gravely.
"What…what do you do to criminals? People who abuse the Shadows?" Harry asked. His throat and mouth were dry; his tongue seemed thick and heavy in his mouth. He tried to swallow but couldn't; he could only watch, as though from a distance, as Atem continued to speak.
"That depends on the crime. Most of the time, we challenge them to a Shadow Game. Should they win, they are free to go until another member of the council catches up. When they lose, they have to play a Penalty Game. The severity of the penalty depends on the crime. But, if the crime was truly terrible, we do not even give them a chance to win. We arrange a Game that cannot be won, for the sole purpose of sending them to the Shadow Realm."
"What right do you all have to make those sorts of decisions? Whether someone's abusing the Shadows or not, and how to punish them if you think they are," Harry said stiffly. Atem closed his eyes and sighed.
"The Shadows and those who use them are our responsibility. It was our failure to complete the Ceremony and seal them away that led to their abundance. The least we can do to atone for that mistake is to ensure that those affected are able to properly use the Shadows, and to ensure that those who might use them for harm are not able to," he said, in an aristocratically beleaguered sort of way.
Harry didn't speak for a long moment, couldn't bring himself to look at any of them. Well, he thought dazedly, at least they're taking responsibility for the Shadows. I don't want to think of all the people who'd be soulless right now if they weren't watching out… A sudden thought occurred to him, drained his face of color and made him freeze. The whole reason there had been a job opportunity for him here was because of the outbreak of inexplicably soulless bodies found. These people here, standing in this room, must have been responsible – if not directly, then marginally at least. After all, hadn't Atem just claimed responsibility for all other shadow users? The soulless may have been criminals dealt vigilante justice by this shady group, or they may have been the innocent victims of corrupted users, but the point remained that bodies were still cropping up at the discretion of the people standing before him. Harry was simultaneously horrified and amazed to have just stumbled in and cracked open the mystery.
He was tired, mentally and physically. He could feel his pulse throbbing in his temples and the taught, inflamed flesh of his side was aching and he wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep and pretend this whole damn thing had just been a dream. But he couldn't. He couldn't ignore this; he had to learn more. While he knew these people personally and didn't think they were evil, when they brought up the Council and Penalty Games and Kings and Shadow Realm …it all sounded too much like the start of some megalomaniacal Dark Lord and his inner circle of loyal followers. He couldn't just accept everything they were telling him, and he couldn't just walk away. Bloody saving people thing.
"So, that's all you do? Talk to people about using shadow magic, and punish them when they get too handsy?" Harry asked anxiously, wanting desperately to trust in them, but no longer able to believe the best of perceived allies as he had before the all of the betrayals in the Second War.
"The logistics are a bit more complicated than that, but in essence you are correct," Atem affirmed.
"And other than that you really just leave people alone?" He was just repeating himself at this point, he knew, but he had to know. If they were even considering using other shadow users to further personal agendas… Well.
Bakura snorted. "We have our own lives to live. We have no interest in holding people's hands, and most of them have no interest in receiving life advice from a group of twenty-somethings."
Harry couldn't fault that logic, and even though he had promised himself he would not blindly accept their words, he could not help but relax a little, before moving on to a question that had him genuinely curious, rather than simply obligated to ask.
"So, about the shadows specifically… I mean, what do they do to a soul they, erm, invade? I mean, that's got to have some impact on the host, right?"
"Well, they let you summon monsters and touch the Shadow Realm, primarily," Otogi spoke up. Harry opened his mouth, about to clarify that he was wondering more about the side-effects when Yugi broke in.
"It might seem unbelievable, but we've been talking to new summoners a lot to get a feel for any negative consequences, and most people just report feeling better about themselves. Feeling less lost, or being reminded less frequently of painful things. When the Shadows seal up the cracks in your soul, they just sort of mend it as best they can, we think. I – We can't say for sure because it's only been a few years since general people began to access shadow magic, but it really doesn't seem to hurt them at all." Here Yugi paused, thoughtful, before continuing with a caveat. "Except for when they, you know, start doing bad things with the Shadows and are corrupted by them. People can get pretty unhinged when that happens."
Across the room, Jounouchi coughed into his fist. "Hackhack-Marik-coughhack-Bakura." Despite the levity behind the action, it caught Harry's attention.
"Wait, were Bakura and Marik corrupted by the Shadows before? How can you guys be dishing out punishment when the same thing happens to you?" Harry demanded, glancing at the two men in question suspiciously, both of whom had turned to glare poisonously at Jou.
"Nice going, mutt," Bakura muttered.
Marik shook his head. "No, we're more resistant to the Shadows than other people, really. We were shadow mages before the magic was tamed, and a lot of us wielded the Millennium Items. We… got a little messed up before that Ceremony that limited the Shadows, but we were able to overcome them then. These Shadows are weaker, can't corrupt us. Or at least, we're able to prevent them from corrupting us. Heh, you seem pretty stuck on the penalty stuff."
"Well, I am in law enforcement, you remember," Harry said dryly. He paused for a moment to think about anything else he wanted to ask, mind replaying the conversation from the beginning.
"A while ago, you guys mentioned that I have potential. Does that mean I'm damaged or a natural summoner, or whatever?" Harry asked, not bothering to consider if he was 'corrupted.' He was rather bloody sure he could be considered a good citizen, at the very least. Nonetheless, he was treated to several winces.
"Well, maybe you were a natural before, but now you're, um…very damaged. To put it lightly," Marik muttered, not meeting Harry's eyes.
Bakura snorted from his wall. "That's an understatement if I ever heard one, Tomb Keeper."
"To tell the truth, Harry-san, none of us have ever met someone else who has suffered so much spiritual damage," Ryou spoke up gently, as though the news would upset him. By all rights it probably should have, but too often had Harry been the odd man out for the news of this new abnormality to truly surprise him. And frankly, he already knew he was damaged. Brandying about a dark lord's soul in his head for 17 years, suffering numerous violent mental invasions, surviving the Killing Curse, being killed and standing right back up… He'd be shocked if he were the epitome of spiritual and mental health. That the rest of the world knew it too was what upset him more than anything.
"Yeah, it's kinda disturbing, actually. Your soul's just all torn up, but you act pretty normal. Kinda makes us wonder how much you're, like, repressing. Seems, ya know, a little unhealthy."
"Jounouchi Katsuya, everyone, King of Tact and Subtlety," Otogi rolled his eyes. "But he's mostly right, Harry-san. If you're having any problems at all, you always can come to me. Or the others, I guess," he finished a bit flippantly.
"My personal issues are entirely my own business. I won't tell you about them, so don't frustrate the both of us by even bothering to ask." Harry spoke as bluntly and clearly as possible. He hoped his tone had gotten across his inflexibility on the matter, and judging by the resigned looks on several faces, he had succeeded. He took a deep breath, gearing up to ask the question that could possibly hurt him more than anything else that had been said.
"Is this why you guys were always inviting me out places? Acting like friends, and being so informal with me? Because I'm damaged and have potential?" Harry asked quietly, intently.
"It's why I offered you the job," Yugi admitted. "But everything else was just about getting to know you better, cuz you're pretty interesting on a personal level. I was curious to see if we could be friends, and I think everyone else was too, so yeah, of course we invited you out places." His purple eyes were large and earnest and innocent. Harry fell his anger fading against his will in the face of Yugi's well-meaning honesty.
"We weren't just acting like friends, Harry-san," Ryou murmured. "I- I really do enjoy your company." Boom, anger eliminated. Harry sighed, exhausted, the loss of his burgeoning anger draining away any remaining energy. He stood up and stretched a bit, winced as he pulled at the raw skin on his side, and spoke to the room at large.
"Right. Thanks for being honest, I guess. I'd really like to go home now, though, sleep on it. Um," he began again when he saw Ryou stand up and Bakura press off the wall. "I'm going to walk back alone. I really don't want company." He couldn't suppress the twinge of guilt he felt at seeing Ryou's downcast expression. He forced himself not to look at Bakura, and dragged himself out the door to walk home.