A/N: This is probably just me being morbid. But since I'm royally stuck on my WIP, and I got this one-shot idea, I figured it's a pretty neat way to procrastinate.
Even though Doma Arc hasn't ended in the US yet, I know how it ends andthis isn't what happens, which makes the ficletslightly AU-ish. Just random trivia I thought you should know.
So...I present...
Porcelain
By Moonrabbit
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I love him.
Even with all this, I still do.
But he used to love me back.
Once upon a time he loved me like a brother.
We were close.
After all, we shared the same house, the same deck, the same aspirations, the same body for goodness' sakes! How much closer could we get?
Once upon a time, we shared one mind.
We understood each other. During and outside duels, we knew what each other was thinking. We comforted each other. We kept each other's spirit up.
And always, always, he was there to watch out for me.
He always appeared when I was in trouble, when I was hurt. He always cared when I was bothered.
And sometimes at night, I could feel him rocking me to sleep.
Maybe that was where everything went wrong.
You see, he probably thought that I was too weak.
I could never win a real duel without him. He almost had to take over every single time.
Soon, I was the sacrifice, the annoying other half.
I was the person who fainted in the Shadow Realm in Duelist Kingdom, fainted during the fire when I tried to save him, and nearly destroyed when I was the sacrifice in Battle City.
He saved me every single time, of course, but something was shifting.
He took over the body more often. Not that I minded, really. I liked staying inside the soul room once in a while and he needed to socialize more.
But soon, it was his face that all the duelists recognize.
Mine?
People stare and gawk when I took over. Questioning, inquiring looks.
But I didn't care.
I didn't care because he loved me and I loved him and that was all that mattered. I didn't mind if he had to take over for me, because that meant he cared. I didn't mind if everybody saw him and not me as a hero, because that was how it is.
Yet everything had to shift again.
This time, he offered me as a sacrifice.
He was ruthless in the duel against Raphael and eventually, he lost. And as the story went, he would've lost his soul had I not saved him.
I was proud. This was the one time that I saved him.
It turned out to be the last.
When he rescued me, I realized how different he was. So much more confident, so much more powerful, and so much more independent. After all, he was the only soul in this body when I was stuck in the tablet.
He told me to rest in the soul room after the ordeal, and I rested.
And after I rested, he told me to stay there some more, while he took care of business.
And I stayed.
And stayed.
And he took over my life.
He dueled and won without question. He went out to parties. He kissed Anzu and went on dates.
At first, every night, he did come home to me. He would comfort me inside the soul room. He said I was his porcelain doll. He didn't want to lose me.
And I believed him.
But I watched, trapped.
I saw people change around me. I saw Jounouchi going to college, Kaiba becoming a corporate genius, Anzu going to New York City, Honda becoming a successful businessman.
And me?
I don't know. I'm still here, in the soul room.
I have aged, I suppose, but I haven't seen a mirror for so long, that I couldn't tell.
HE never ages. Of course not. He's a spirit.
But he has the control of my body and he is the Champion Duelist.
He makes money by just signing autographs.
And his soul has become much stronger than mine. I cannot never hope to wrestle this body away from him.
Sometimes he thinks of me, I think. He calls me his aibou and says I'm his porcelain doll. Once he stroked my cheek and kissed me and then laughed as if it were all a joke.
Other times he touched me, reminding me that I belonged to him.
As if I could belong to anyone else.
I have stopped trying to talk to him through the mental link.
In any case, he hardly wears that puzzle now, unless to flaunt to his admirers. It's a thing of the past, in his mind.
As am I.
I don't know who I am anymore. Nobody seems to miss me. Or maybe nobody can tell that difference between him and me anymore. Maybe he IS the real Yuugi.
I don't know.
All I know is that I'm his porcelain doll, and I'm too fragile to face the world.
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A/N: Okay, that was probably bad. The draft in my head sounded better, but this is what I get for doing physics equations instead of writing fanfiction.
I hope you like it. Please review and tell me how it is! I will most likely revise this, and your suggestions are going to be much help!
--MR