DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN YUGIOH GX!

I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS CAME FROM OR WHY IT EVEN HAPPENED. I WAS WORKING ON GOLDEN EYES AND ALL OF THE SUDDEN I WAS TYPING THIS OUT.

YEAH, REALLY SPONTANIOUS MOMENT FOR ME AND IT IS BASICALLY DRABBLE.

THIS HAPPENED IN THE WEEK THAT JUDAI WAS GONE.

UMM... YEAH, THAT'S ALL I HAVE TO SAY.

He hadn't realized just how much he had been relying on it until he opened his eyes again—and yet for the first time—and felt the pain crushing him, overwhelming his mind and body. He could feel it echoing through his bones, traveling through the blood that flowed through his veins, contaminating the rest of his being like the virus of inhumanity that he had succumbed to not so long ago. He opened his eyes, undeserving of the light that streamed down to the earth, undeserving of the suns warm rays, undeserving of ever being called the sun, for the sun brought life and light to the world and he only destroyed it. So he closed them tightly and retreated back into the darkness, hoping by some miracle he'd find it there, the thing that he wanted desperately... not only just wanted it, but needed it so badly, more than life itself.

For life was becoming a very fragile concept to him.

He felt the tender embrace of Yubel, the claws resting across his chest, and he shook him off fiercely, walking away. He didn't deserve the love that he was given. He could not love the way he needed him to, his love only caused pain and destruction—which only his enemies seemed to understand, the light and the darkness. The timeless protector tried to approach him again, obviously having enough experience with all of his past lives to know his reactions by now. As a matter of fact, he knew all of what was going to be said as well, now knowing who he was—who he had been—and who he would always be no matter how much he wanted to change. How many times had this happened to him? How many lives had he broken down in, turning to his protector to shield him from the worst enemy he had? Himself?

He tried to recall, but the sheer infinite numbers of them slipping through his shaking hands and leaked out of his consciousness until they drowned him in a sea of information too vast to survive in. He was dimly aware that he was in physical pain from the effects of his own demise—Super Polymerization—but none of that mattered in the end. Yubel would finally find peace in him, even if that meant that he would have to die.

But would he even really know that he was dead? Wouldn't his life cycle just begin again and again and again until oblivion snatched him up like the pawn he was in the never-ending game between light and darkness?

What of those that he had already pushed towards the forces and obliterated with a simple passing wave of his hand, burned in the fires of his hatred and his misery for simply existing in the first place? For knowing the difference between right and wrong and trying to stop the darkness he had been spreading?

Who was he to justify all of their deaths? Why hadn't whoever kept him here, bound to this planet and its multiple dimensions, found him unfit for the duty that he was called to do and smite him where he stood? Why hadn't another been bound into duty, someone who could take all of this information, who was strong enough to resist the lull of darkness... of such a sweet blissful ignorance to the pain and destruction around oneself?

That someone had not been him, and even now he, together as one with his loyal protector, was nearly begging for the impartialness of his latest blunder, the cold gaze of Haou to shield these feelings from him—to heal him enough to be able to accept what had happened and to embrace Yubel in his mind with open arms?

Yes, he knew that he was a strong-willed person and had always been able to push himself past these grievances, but this wound was still too fresh, too deep, and now salt was being poured into the ravine in the form of all the lives, loves, and deaths he had witnessed since the very beginning of time itself, not allowing him to do that what he thought was most important—heal.

So many people, all dead, gone, dust in the wind now. He thought fists clenched tightly as their deaths played over and over again in his consciousness, flooding his body with misery, but he wasn't sure anymore. The fire was coming for him now, burning his body into dust and then realigning them with another being. He 

imagined the strain of his muscles as they adjusted to Yubel's height, stretching, snapping, and healing as they did during exercise. Next, his heart became tougher, more capable of endurance and immune to illness, next came his immune system himself—fortified with the strength of a dragon so now the only illness he had to deal with was that of his mind.

He knew what the boy that he had initiated these changes for was standing behind him and what he would say next, for he remembered each conversation they had shard for thousands of years, the details ringing out in surprisingly sharp clarity now that the barrier between them had been shattered.

"I will always love and protect you Judai; this is not only my duty, but what my heart tells me I must do. There is nothing that you have done or could ever do that would make me change my mind."

The words were sweet and caring, murmured in the feminine voice that he had become accustomed to, but he did not know if he was hearing them now or picking up the message from another life. Or even if the message was from the voice of Yubel at all. What of those scarce and scattered lives before he had met the dedicated boy in the Dark World? They had said similar things to him, equally as devoted to him... all of them lost, in heaven or hell, either way, ashes to him.

Thousands of sweet caring mothers and protective overbearing fathers, or impartial with their coolness, famous aloof stars, he had been with them all, lived through them all. He remembered insignificant details here or there about these early lives, smiles and laughs, spankings and hard work, but he always remembered each of their eyes when the life finally left him, as most children will face some day in time, but he was doomed to face for all eternity. However, he also remembered the sadness of the lives that he had failed to outlive his new parents, the terrible misery held in their heartbroken eyes.

He had loved so many times, in so many ways, with so many people, it just seemed irrelevant now. He was only setting them up to be hurt, how could Yubel love him so blindly?

Children—he remembered them distantly. It had happened once, an accident, a very, very long time ago, and he had been married to the woman as soon as they discovered it for it had been unfit in the eyes of God to be pregnant without a husband in those times. He had been a father, and the precious boy had been beautiful, so elegant with his big green eyes and his mother's blonde hair, and he had survived into manhood, something so uncommon for most newborns of that age. Anderson had been his last name then. Bitterness seeped out of his every pore and the pain doubled with every single breathe his body took in.

He shivered, disgusted with himself.

His connection to Johan—he was his ancestor. His son had gone on and continued the family line—he remembered. Married a nice girl sweet girl, and the girl had been everything that a flower was. Charming, beautiful, entrancing, but fragile. She had died giving birth to his grandson. He punched a mirror, rejecting the overwhelming flow of information, his human mind unable to accept the fact that his soul had been reincarnated over and over and over again.

How could he possibly stand before someone who carried his blood in his veins and claim to be his best friend? Was this why is had hurt so much to lose him in the Dark World and why he always felt it was necessary to be close to him? Because some distant part of him recognized that Johan was a small part of him? How could they stand next to each other and the same age and yet Johan be his very distant son?

This was wrong. All of it was just so utterly and completely wrong.

But he couldn't stop himself from remembering now that he had made the connection... it was in human nature to be curious, even through all of the pain.

He had caught the Black Death in 1348; in what is now today Great Britain. His wife, who he had grown to love above anything that he had known, caught it as well. She had said often, happily, staring devoted into his brown eyes, that they were soul-mates, even staying together in death. She had touched her cross that dangled from her chest and prayed with him, smiling into their black-and-purple tumor-infested bodies that they would be together in heaven for eternity as it was promised, that the pain would end in only a few days, then forever was in their grasps. Somewhere through the haze he felt his hand grip tighter, slick with blood from the shattered mirror. Her faith had been one of the reasons he had loved her so much, she was always the beacon of hope whenever he was brought down by his latest task at saving the world. Back then, it had not always been as easy as playing a card.

But now where was she? Waiting for him with his first and last son? Well she would certainly have company up there in the sky. He had loved others through the ages, completely oblivious to the fact that he was already taken—so many others, male and female both. Those poor souls that he had deceived, promised eternity to in various religions, never-ending vows that he never knew he wouldn't keep until it was too late. Until now, when they were all years dead.

Death—the pain. It was flowing over him, distracting him from the many horrid emotions that floundered through him and from the blood that was leaking down his knuckles and the shattered glass at his feet. He ground down the screams, biting into his lip until even more pain was added, taking the beating as punishment for all that he had done. Justice was finally being wrecked onto him, he was feeling the deaths of all of those his immortal soul had swayed, friends, family, lovers, victims. Not one sound would pass through these treacherous lips; he would not give himself any relief from the torture he deserved.

All the while he knew that the person he had promised to only love had torn off a piece of his—theirs now—shirt and was gently wrapping his injured hand, his lips moving as if trying to ease away the torture. But no—he wanted the torture. It took away and obliterated the emotional pain that struck at his already twisted heart like a machete or a spear, giving him something physical to focus on, some excuse to forget the fact that he was in love with countless people that he had been around since time itself to delegate between darkness and light. That he could not, in fact, keep the promise to the boy before him who had given up eternity, his body, even half of his gender, to protect him. It had been broken before it was even made.

The pain of his deaths ended again, and the mental pain took up where it had left off. He remembered tasting things for the first time, over and over again, in each new life, he remembered Yubel finding him one way or another, and telling him of what he was—his destiny. But the boy had spared him the most pressing issue, tried to shield him even then. He had not revealed to him that he was, in a way, immortal, so he had remained so blissfully ignorant of the pain that was returning to him ten-fold currently. He only knew that he was the hero, the good guy in the story, and that he loved his protector and that the notion was returned—and would forever be returned, but never in a physical way. Yubel was far too strong for passion, simple touches ever threatening his fragile human body. To him he was like a porcelain doll, so beautiful to look at and admire, but too breakable to touch, so easy to shatter. He knew that kissing could sweep them both away, and he could forget, in a moment of weakness, that he was not unbreakable, and then death would come for him from the hands of his protector.

Yubel had never been willing to try, but he knew now that they were one being that whenever the angel had found him when he was older, a teenager perhaps, and in a relationship already, seeing him and the significant 

other kiss, hold hands, brought jealousy and rage and agony deep within his heart. He fell to his knees, recalling when it had taken Yubel thirty years to find him in the new dimension, and he had already been married.

That life he had not told him of the love that he felt, had watched bitterly as he devoted himself to another—a woman for that matter. Now he felt that betrayal as well, and he cursed himself over and over, allowing the slanderous words to escape from his tongue at last and sweep him up further in the current or memories dragging him under the surface. How could he not remember every time he began again? How could he just forget the lives he had built, the friends—all of those who cared about him?

And whenever he did die and was reborn, it was not always near the area where he had last stood. Yubel could of course feel him on the tips of his consciousness due to his powers, pulling on his heartstrings, but the tug was not strong will he was young, and the journeys to find where his missing love had been transported off to were not always short and sweet, or, like in this life, successful for his entire life.

He called for Haou now, desperately, but he was Haou and had already regained one level of consciousness with his dark power, he was calling to no one, just a distant echo of horror. No one could strip him of these feelings to allow him to get a grip on reality, on his sanity. No one could give him the blissful numbness and the slow forgetfulness that his other half had given him when he had fallen. But he needed it now. He had relied on it when he had activated the fusion card, his own doom, along with the love of Yubel to ease his soul, to give him enough peace to make it up to Yubel in return. But the indifferent edge that Haou walked with had not been passed on with his powers, and he was left to rot here because of his humanity, his ability to feel, and his lack of being able to accept what he was feeling.

He was feeling as much as Judai had, that pathetic human who had died with his friends, and he hated it horribly. He didn't—couldn't—even consider himself to be Judai, not anymore, not ever. He had had so many names, first and last, to even pause to consider that Yuki Judai may be his true name, his true self for he had found his "true self" several times in all of these memories, and for that he didn't deserve to breathe the air or walk on the Earth.

Yuki Judai was weak, was too human. He had watched as his friends were sacrificed instead of throwing the duel and giving up his own life for them like he always thought he would. Yuki Judai was just another selfish human being in the end, whose own righteous quest to find a missing friend and ease his own conscious and troubled heart had led to the genocide of the Dark World people. Had led to countless murders!

But had the coldness been worth it in the end? He still heard their screams haunting his ears as they burned into dust, his fire engulfing all who tried to run. When it had ended, with the death of another fool who thought that he was worth saving, he had to feel again, and face the consequences of not caring about a life, no matter how insignificant it had been. Now he felt the same way about his own life, wondering briefly if he had ever taken it before. No instances came to mind, but he had never felt something so strong and as horrible as this before.

He had nothing but broken promises and shattered hopes to give, and he didn't want the love of someone he could only hurt. They were one now, and he could feel all of his pain, and he understood. The feelings flowed easily between them, but he bit down on his lip and said the possibly the first thing since their fusion.

"I'm supposed to protect you Judai; I cannot allow yourself to do that."

He knew that would be the answer, even if these circumstances had not yet been experienced. So familiar was he to the comforting words of Yubel that he could recite them all by heart if he wished to, which took away their meaning entirely. All that was left to listen to was the infliction in which it was said, and this time it was not calming and gentle, it was harsh and sharp, like the crack of a whip.

He let go of his clawed hand and pulled his knees to his chest, sitting in the shattered remains of the mirror. He ignored his attempt to show him he didn't want compassion now, wrapping his arms around him and covering him in his great wings. He knew this position as well; he used it to shield him from the outside world, to protect in war as he led kingdoms, or to simply keep the sun off of him on a long journey alone with him.

"I don't deserve to live. I've abused this power, I've hurt everyone I've ever been in contact with, I don't even deserve you Yubel."

He stroked the two-toned hair gently, his claws barely brushing against the skin. Even the hair on this body was a battle between dark and light it seemed—was that his entire existence? This never-ending battle, and thus his never-ending reincarnation? How much more pain would he cause before the end of the world? Or would he, in the end, just sit by and let it happen, get rid of it all, the pain, the suffering? Would he give into the darkness again? Or would he turn towards the light and be blissfully devoted to the creature he had once hated and locked away from the universe?

"I'm with you forever now Judai," Yubel whispered to him softly in the feminine coo. "You will never forget our promise again, or any of the things that have happened to you. You won't make the same mistakes."

Mistakes? All of those that he loved were mistakes. He should have just shunned society the second he figured out what it was that made him different, the things that he could do, even in the times before Yubel. Perhaps he can fix things now, avoid those creatures that he had befriended, make them hate him for his aloofness, save them pain in the end when they die and he just continues on with the cycle, never to see them again in wherever normal humans go where they die.

"Judai, you cannot just seal away your heart from them. They love you more than you know. You'd just be hurting them again by ignoring them."

A bitter laugh escaped him, and he picked up one of the pieces of glass from around us, staring at the reflection-less surface with envy. They couldn't possibly love him after all the damage that he had done to this world, to them. Hatred was more likely, and that would perhaps make things all the easier.

The glass stared blankly back at him, not reflecting his pain, not showing him what he looked like right now. But he knew already, because Yubel was looking at him, and they were one. He saw what the other saw; it was as simple as that. They heard things together, breathed together, were as one. Did that mean that now they could not forget each other as well?

"I will never forget you Judai, and in turn, you will never forget me," he cooed again, squeezing him slightly, ruffling his red coat. He looked down at his exposed wrists blankly, noticing that he had gained Yubel's height now and perhaps it had not been his imagination, and that his clothing no longer fit him—them. Discarding the random thought he sank back into the past lives, holding onto his forever loved one for support. He could not kill Yubel as well; he would not end their lives. But the pain was shared between them, and he needed someone to catch him as he fell again. He felt his lips tug into a smile and loosened his grip, aware that it was hurting his human body. "That's it Judai, my Judai. I'll never let you fall again; I'll be there to get you back on your feet, no matter how long it takes."

He opened his mouth and addressed the other with more than a bit of a shaky voice, "It may take awhile."

Yubel smiled again, humming an old lullaby from a distant and faded life, a very quick one that he couldn't properly recall. "I would wait forever for you Judai."

"I know," he whispered, sliding the glass between his fingers, feeling the smooth surface. "Thank you..."

He simply continued humming and stroking his hair, rocking him slowly back and forth, nursing the shattered pieces of his mind into a whole again. He sighed, exhaling the old lives with each breath, remembering them as lessons to himself. If he was ever to get back into his birth world, the human world, then he would be more distant, keep other's hearts away from his, just to keep them from being hurt in the very end. Their hatred would scar him, but time would heal him simply because he had so much time—or who knows—maybe he only had a few years. No one knew when the end would come, but he knew someday it would. If he had learned anything in this experience, it was that all beginnings have an end.

Yuki Judai met his end in this world, becoming Haou, and finally the Prince of Darkness once again, and now he was no longer even human, part of him becoming one of the spirits in the game that he loved so much. But he had learned now that it was not a game, but a battle-field, and he didn't know if he could ever relax in a duel again. If he let down his guard again, allowed people in, they would get hurt to hurt him, simply because he was the one, the chosen defender of the world, and they were just humans.

Minutes, hours, maybe even days later, he tried to open his eyes again, resurfacing from the darkness that he had retreated to in his weakness. He could feel Yubel's presence from within his very soul, still attempting to soothe his just bearable pain, knowing that he had not been mentally ready to return to the physical world, but they had felt the weakness of their body, and he knew he needed to awaken if he was to survive.

As he regained a physical presence he was aware of presences around him, whispered delicately, as if afraid to wake him. He tried to follow the conversation, but his ears weren't working properly, nothing was for that matter. His palms knew he was touching something, but he couldn't feel the texture of it, he could not smell the must and blood of the Dark World around him, he could not taste the air that he was breathing. Faintly surprised, he made another attempt at opening his eyes only to find he was unsuccessful as he was the first time. Nothing was responding to his mind.

He tried to make a noise and managed a small grunt, and from that small notion his entire body sparked into life again, checking itself unconsciously, learning how to function all over again now that he was a new species entirely. The smells hit him powerfully, more sharply than ever before, and his hands flew up in response with more speed than any human reflex had ever, smothering the sensory overload that burned his nostrils. His sore muscles screamed at him in protest and the back of his throat ached and complained at him like an old cat, commanding water. The sounds around him were much too loud, the scuffling of animals and the cries of alarmed birds and the whispering of the wind through the trees. The smell of smoke surrounded him and his hands grasped onto dirt, which crumbled in his touch like everything else.

His back curved and he was sitting up, his arms shaking and his legs already attempting to stand just to prove that they still could. Some great force known as gravity grabbed him, his nerves responding the notion with pain as he collided with the ground in his flimsy state, unable to absorb the weight with his feet and stand firmly.

He ground his teeth and tried again, his eyes still closed tightly, and managed to stand up straight this time and take a few stumbling steps around the small crater that he had created. Strange—he did not remember falling at all. "Judai!"

He nearly growled at the use of the name, still disgusted at it, but then it processed in his brain that someone he knew was near him in this world, but whom? He relaxed and opened his eyes, only to shut them immediately with a slight hiss, the still present smoke stinging them. Small feet were approaching him quickly, and he regained his composure, trying to plaster a smile on his face for the sake of the human he was about to approach.

The footsteps stopped suddenly, and now he could hear what should have been the silent stream of tears down the other's face. He opened his eyes again, glad that the smoke was gone and that the darkness was much more preferable, and that he could see in it just as well as he could the sunlight.

It was then that his overworked mind registered the voice as Sho, his used-to-be close friend. By some deep instinct from Yubel and himself, he knew that the teen had been torn up just a few minutes ago, and now his tears had turned into those of joy. He knew that he could not and would never hurt his friend right now while he was still so vulnerable, like himself, and did the thing that he knew would fix the other's worries and fears.

He turned around with his plastered on smile to face the teen. "Hey Sho, it is friend shrimp night, right?"

And that was all it took to make the smaller boy run to him and embrace his new body in his arms and sob tears of joy into his short jacket and shirt, thanking the Gods that his aniki was alive and well, and for his part, he just hugged the smaller boy back.

For the sake of his friends and their happiness, he wouldn't bring his burden onto their shoulders. He would deal with it on his own, well, not so alone anymore. He felt Yubel smile at him in the back of his mind, and he knew that they could make it through this. He wasn't alone anymore, and he would never be alone again. He finally had his own rock to lean against in the harsh storms yet to come, and that was enough for him. He would make sure to grow to deserve the love that he was given, but first he had to solve the problem of those who already surrounded him here.

They will always love you Judai.

As Sho lead him back to the dorms and his friends that he would have to detach from to protect, he let himself smile for the briefest moment, shining through the darkness that had eclipsed him, because he still loved them too, and that was really all that mattered. He was going to suffer for them, but he knew that he would do it over again if he had to, and he knew that the close future was going to just as painful as the last few weeks had been, but he had one new faith to hold onto during those times, something that would never be eclipsed.

I love you Judai.

He nodded, closing his eyes to see Yubel's face swim before his eyes, his power flowing through his being, the Protector and Prince finally one. He could only respond in two simple words, because it was so true, and the meaning was limitless to him. For now that he knew, he could truly fulfill his task for the friend that had given his human life to protect him. With these two words, he felt himself stabilizing again, his mind finally accepting something of what was being told to him. He didn't need to strife over what had already happened there was no point seeing as they could not be changed.

He let go of the memories, allowing them to remain but no longer trying to solve them, and just said the thing that he knew was concrete no matter what else life could throw at him.

Always, Yubel.

I DON'T EVEN LIKE YUBEL/JUDAI, SO IF I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE QUESTIONING MY SANITY AFTER THIS, GO AHEAD AND TELL ME SO.

I'M JUST AS CONFUSED AS THE REST OF YOU FOR THIS!

FLAMES WILL BE RESPONDED TO WITH MY FLAMING POLICY, AND THAT'S JUST ABOUT IT!

ALRIGHT, BACK TO GOLDEN EYES I GUESS...