Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters presented here and am not making any profit off of this whatsoever.
Title: Sensations
Word Count: 5,722
Rated: PG-13
Romance: Atemu x Yuugi
Notes: This takes place in the first chapter of the manga and a bit of the second. Comments and criticism gratefully accepted.
Summary: He could only know his boy by the touches on the Puzzle. But he knew that whoever it was that was putting it together was his. And no one harmed what was his.

The spirit only knew the boy by touch. Only when those hesitant fingers brushed against the Puzzle pieces did he have any kind of awareness whatsoever, and he truly knew just those fingers when that happened. Locked into the endless night of this prison, he ached for those moments as no one in all the history of humanity had ached for anything else. Men dying of thirst in a desert did not long for water one half so much as he longed for those gentle fingers sliding across his consciousness.

He knew only those fingers. He had no idea of what the boy's name was, only that he was a boy, and a young one at that. When first it had begun, the child could only have been seven or eight years of age. The fingers then were chubby and clumsy, their owner not yet grown enough to be co ordinated in any kind of a way.

Before that, there had been nothing, for forever. He thought, perhaps, he had been someone else once, someone with a face, a name, a past. All of that was gone, and for all he knew, he would never know them again. He was given an identity only by those fingers, that gentle, hesitant touch that came out of nowhere and returned to nowhere at times he couldn't predict.

At times, hate crossed his mind, hate for those fingers that came and went so easily, leaving him for an infinity's worth of time once in a while. He cursed and swore, or believed he did. In this vast nothingness, he had no idea of what happened when the touch wasn't there.

There was no pain, if one could describe the aching void of unknowing as painless. There was neither heat nor cold, only the unending sameness that stretched on forever in every direction. There was simply nothing. What he had done to deserve this? Had he done something to deserve it? Had he been trapped here by someone else's power or had he done this to himself or was he not even here, just a figment of someone's imagination?

The not knowing was the worst part. He wanted to believe someone else had done this to him. He couldn't imagine what could led him to do this to himself. He didn't like pain. He would never have inflicted this on himself. This was a punishment for a thief, a criminal, one who harmed others, not...not him. He didn't deserve it. He had...he was...

He didn't know. But he knew he didn't deserve it.

Or so he told himself, over and over again, until he grew sick of the words that had never been uttered and waited yet again for the fingers to come, the whisper-soft caress to bring knowledge, if only of the fact there was something else in reality that wasn't him, that there really was a world out there somewhere, even if he couldn't get to it just yet.

There would be a way, someday. He had to believe that, just as he had to believe in his innocence. He would find a way out. He knew that what held him was a Puzzle, the Millennium Puzzle. It was only a name, meaningless beyond those two simple words. Obviously it was a Puzzle that had never been put together. Again, the reason why was something he didn't know, if there even was a reason. Perhaps it had simply never been tried. He had never felt anyone else's hands but this boy's, after all.

The boy again. He wondered what the child looked like, who he was, what he did. The hands felt soft. Perhaps he was of wealth? Noble blood, even royal? The words drifted through his mind, scraps of meaning behind them that teased and tantalized at him, but when he tried to reach for them, they faded into nothingness. He was not allowed to know even the smallest bits, it appeared. What ever had decreed that would not permit it. Only the emptiness and the touch were real, and once in a while, he even doubted the touch. Could something so tender, so caring truly be real?

Whenever he was in the depths of despair, that was when the touch would come again, wiping away his doubts with tender motions. There was nothing then but faith, faith that the time would come when he would look into the face of his rescuer, and he would know peace at last.

Time had to pass, though he was only aware of it in, as usual, the most meaningless sense of things. It had to pass because that was what time did, whether he was aware of it himself or not. There was another clue, small as it was, and whatever held him here may have simply forgotten to exclude it from his awareness, allowing him to retain that small bit knowledge. It was, simply, that the boy's hands changed with the passage of time.

The hands grew a little larger, a little more controlled and a touch defter. But still they made no progress towards completing the Puzzle. That was going to be the key, he came to understand. Whether he worked this out on his own or his unknown, unseen captor told him in ways he couldn't hear, he did not know. The knowledge was simply there and he accepted it. When the Puzzle was done, then he would be free.

There were other, minor changes that went along with the passage of time. He thought perhaps the boy didn't always keep the Puzzle with him, for unless a piece was being touched, he couldn't feel anything. Somewhere in the endless abyss he existed in, however, he became aware that the boy was near. He wasn't touching the Puzzle, but he was near.

The spirit could tell nothing more than that. Still he had no idea of what the boy looked like or was like. Surely he was kind, for his touch on the Puzzle was nothing but kindness itself. But there was so much else he ached to know.

What was it that dared to draw his boy's attention away from him, where it rightfully belonged? He growled, or would have if he had possessed a body and a throat with which to do so. He had waited so long, and all he gained from this waiting was a series of teases that he ached over, and minor morsels of knowledge that told him nothing. Babes in wombs could very well know more than he did!

What was taking so long? Was it because of whatever force dared to pull his boy's attention away from putting the Puzzle together? Surely it couldn't be that hard. It was only a Puzzle, after all.

No, it couldn't just be a Puzzle. No mere puzzle could possibly keep him in chains of nothing like this. He knew that as well as he knew everything else, which admittedly wasn't all that much. Perhaps this was just to be a tease for him, to tempt him with the promise of future freedom and with those fingers that teased and taunted him in their unknowing innocence.

Did the boy not know of his existence? Did he just think that this was some kind of...puzzle? Did he really have no idea of the torment that he, the Spirit, went through whenever those fingers glided across the pieces? Was he as gentle as those touches hinted or was he a cruel beast, knowing of the Spirit's existence and forcing him to suffer, confident there was no way that he could ever be brought to account for this?

The Spirit went from one extreme of belief to the other, repeatedly, wanting to figure out what was going on. One moment he ached to know the boy, to praise him for his cleverness in solving the Puzzle. The next, he never wished to lay eyes on him, knowing he would wreak unholy revenge for having taking so very long, for all the pain he had forced to the spirit to suffer, knowingly or unknowingly.

Somewhere in the middle of those times, the Spirit wondered if he were truly alone in this infinity cage. He couldn't see or hear anything at all, much less someone else there, but once in a while, he was almost certain he felt or sensed or whatever word would fit another presence. It wasn't like the boy. It didn't feel like he was just going mad. Not that he would have known if he had gone mad. He had nothing to compare insanity or sanity to, after all. It did feel vaguely like something was watching him, if he had known what the feeling of being watched was like.

If he had had a voice, he would have insisted at the top of his lungs that whoever was doing it stop. Only the boy had the right to touch him, to see him, to know him. Only the one who could make him feel after so long could do that. Only that one, and no other.

Instead, all he could do was want it to stop, to ache for it with all that he had. He thought perhaps that if there truly was another presence there, it obeyed his will, for he couldn't feel it watching after a time. Maybe, if it had been there at all, it had grown bored and left. That was fine with him. It gave him more time to wait for the moments when his boy's fingers would return, bringing those so elusive times of pleasure.

Again, he had no idea of how long it might have been. But something was changing his awareness of his boy. He could feel it more strongly suddenly, as if the link between them, fading and ephemeral as it was, had suddenly grown stronger. From the width of a single thread to perhaps three or four threads, but larger was larger, stronger was stronger, and he would take what he could get, and ache for more.

There were others there now, just on the very vaguest edges of perception. He had no idea of anything about them beyond their existence, and that they meant something to his boy. Friends? Enemies? Family? Like everything else, the words were just words, no meaning behind them. But if they had brought harm to what was his, then there would be meaning, and blood, and madness, as soon as he was released from this golden prison.

They faded away, but the stronger link that wound himself and his boy together did not. Instead, it appeared to be growing even stronger, and something else was happening: there were things around him where there had been nothing before. He had no names for them, but he had names for almost nothing now, so that was of no surprise. Between one heartbeat and the next (though he had no heart to beat), he went from being nowhere to being somewhere.

There was no time for him to think of what to call any of what he saw now. Before him there rose a door. There was no way to open it, no knob or hinges. It simply stood there, waiting.

Click.

The door opened.

The Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle walked through it.

Mutou Yuugi's other self was born.

He was Yuugi, but he wasn't Yuugi. He had no other name for himself, so he would be Yuugi, until such a time came that he would know what else, or who else, he should be.

And Mutou Yuugi had business to deal with that first night. He stared at himself in the mirror, raising one hand to touch the silvered surface lightly. He could feel again. All the time he was in the Puzzle, he'd felt only when Yuugi's hands had touched the pieces. But now, having this body, even if it were just on an involuntary loan, he could feel. He wanted to feel more. He wanted to feel everything.

He dropped his hand from the mirror to touch his other wrist, a shiver rippling through him at the flesh on flesh contact. He loved how it felt. He was finally touching the boy. His boy. No, not 'his boy'.

Yuugi.

His Yuugi.

And if he didn't hurry up and get finished with what he was doing, then his Yuugi might wake up and want his body back, or that bastard Ushio might think he could get away with hurting what was his all over again. That would never happen.

First he had to dress properly, though. It wouldn't do to go to this situation in a normal school uniform. There were rules for everything, and one of them was that every occasion required it's own form of dress. The uniform was the basis for what he wanted. He saw a few other outfits in Yuugi's closet that he made a note to try on at some other time, perhaps when he and Yuugi knew each other better. He wanted that to happen, the sooner the better.

But for now, he would just start with the uniform.

Yuugi's uniform did have straps on the sleeves, which was a good start. There needed to be more, though, and he had little time. He knew he couldn't keep Yuugi's body forever. But I want to... Multiple variations on keeping it teased through his mind, and he tried out a smirk at the thought. Yes, that was just how he felt. Like smirking.

He rummaged a little more, thinking over the impression he wanted to give and how he actually felt, other than smirking. Powerful. Ushio had to know that he'd made a mistake. What he intended to do would teach him that, of course, but the impression had to be made from the outset. Dangerous. That was a given. His smirk would do that, easily.

Really, it was going to be attitude and actions that delivered what he wanted, more than just his sartorial selection. But a few extra items wouldn't hurt. The Millennium Puzzle would be there, of course. He'd already fastened it around his neck. Different shoes, ones of black, instead of the sneakers Yuugi habitually wore, were discovered and put on. Last, but not least, he located a matching set of ankhs that he could fasten onto the straps on the uniform shirt. They looked a little strange, but it would enhance the image he wanted to project.

Once he was done, he eyed himself again in the bathroom mirror. He'd removed the bandages from Yuugi's injuries. Everything looked perfect. He didn't need to practice a smirk. The expression felt more natural than any other he could remember.

Given that his memory extended for a timeless infinity during which he hadn't had any lips to smirk with and the last twenty minutes, claiming it was natural was a bit much, perhaps, but he believed he could deal with it.

There was one last thing that he had to do before he left. He picked up the phone on Yuugi's desk and thumbed through a local phone book. From Yuugi's memories, he knew the other hardly ever called anyone else, not even to order dinner if his mother couldn't cook for some reason, but still, it was there, and the spirit refused to question it. He found what he was looking for and dialed the number quickly.

The voice he had expected answered. He had never heard it before himself, but Yuugi's memories said that this was Ushio, and the faintest twinges from his bruises at the sound of it confirmed it. He smirked slowly and wickedly. There would be so much hell to pay tonight.

No, not hell. There would be justice done. There was quite the difference.

Knowledge and power sang at his fingertips moments later as he raced along towards the school, the arrangement made in mere moments. Of course Ushio had accepted his offer to come to the school at midnight. The fool couldn't see beyond his own wallet. That was going to be his downfall.

Time still remained before their meeting, but he wanted to be certain everything was ready before the other got there. There weren't that many preparations to make, since he had half of what they would need, and Ushio would be bringing the other half with him, in the form of his knife. It had been relatively easy to double the money, once he'd found it in Yuugi's school bag. He had only needed to truly desire it, and there it was, as easily as breathing.

He touched the pile of bills in his pocket for a moment and smiled as he situated himself, waiting for Ushio's arrival. This was the right place, the right time for this. The Games of Darkness would begin again as the clock struck twelve.

Like so much else, he had no idea how he knew of the Games, or that they had existed once before. It had all come with him when he had emerged in Yuugi's body. But he knew how to call one into being, how to manipulate and change them as he desire, and what the consequences could be. He would be given supreme right of judgment over his opponents' souls once they lost.

Just as it had been said, he was the guardian of right and would pass judgment on the evil. The position was his, was Yuugi's, because of the Puzzle. Why the Millennium Puzzle should dictate this was yet another bit of information he was denied. What mattered most was what did with this power, not how he had come to possess it.

The stars swirled overhead as time crept by. He watched them quietly, his eyes flicking from one to another. Had they changed since last he'd seen them? They must have. He had all but no memory of the last time he might have stood in a dark place like this, watching the majesty of the heavens.

What would it be like to stand here with Yuugi, as opposed to being in him and to look at all of this? Or to stand anywhere with him? He licked his lips slowly. He wanted Yuugi, in every way that the word could possibly be construed to mean. He could feel so much coming from the other side, knew Yuugi in ways that the other did not know him. He knew his friends, he knew the people he wanted to call friends, his hopes and dreams and fears, his relatives, and everything else. For all intents and purposes, he was Yuugi now, though a different, stronger, darker Yuugi.

Could a Yuugi love a Yuugi?

The thought of what others might think of this didn't even consider crossing his mind. What they thought was meaningless to him. They were Yuugi's friends, not his. He would protect them because that was what Yuugi wanted to be able to do, and he could feel the burning flames of Yuugi's emotions for them all. But that did not mean he would let any disapproval affect what he chose to do.

What did matter was what Yuugi would think of this. Until they could communicate somehow, there was no way for him to know. He would simply have to do all that he could to ensure that Yuugi did love him when that day came. Then the question itself would be moot.

Yuugi touched his hand again, sliding his fingers across from where the wrist joined the arm, down to the tips of his fingers and back again. Then his caress drifted up to his face, avoiding those areas of injury deftly. He felt his own touch, and wondered if in the room of his soul, Yuugi could feel it as well.

Would he feel it like he had, only in the briefest of moments? He hadn't really gotten a good look at the door across from his own. He had wanted to be out of there too badly. There was still so much he didn't know. He was willing to believe there was far more that he didn't know than he did.

His fingers wandered across his face and down his chest, to his legs and knees, a quicksilver dance that had no partner and needed none. Over and over he did this, lost in a timeless moment of bliss that was so different, so much more real than anything he'd experienced before, whether he could remember it or not.

As the clock began to strike twelve, he drew his fingers away from himself and straightened up a little, assuming his most predatory sneer. Ushio was almost there, and Ushio had no need to see his opponent in anything but the most alert state of readiness.

Then he was there, hints of confusion and greed warring in his face, and the new Yuugi had to hold himself back from simply striking him dead where he stood. This was the beast who had hurt Yuugi, hurt him in the body and in the soul, and there would be no forgiveness for what he had done. If it had not been for Ushio, however, Yuugi might never have solved the Puzzle, or might not have done so for many years to come, thus condemning the Spirit to more endless eons in confinement.

Perhaps it was an honor, then, that he would be the first new victim to the Games of Darkness. It was one that Ushio would probably have declined if he knew what it would mean, but Yuugi wasn't going to tell him. He'd made his own bed by striking out against his Yuugi in the first place, so now he was going to have to deal with the consequences.

It was difficult to be certain if his preparations had had the desired effect on Ushio, for the most part because he appeared to be too thick to notice much beyond the lure of the pile of yen between the two of them. Yuugi was not at all surprised when he made that strike with the knife, and easily dodged, drawing briefly on the power of the Puzzle to make a move that his body could not have normally done.

Now it was time. He wished that it were possible for Yuugi to be there to watch as the Penalty Game struck. But there would be other days, other games...

And he would always be there to protect Yuugi. No one harmed what was his, ever. Yuugi, whether he knew it or not, would always be his.

There were still a few more hours before Yuugi would have to wake up, and the other intended to be certain Yuugi got some rest. Or at least had the chance for it. He wasn't sure how his activities would affect the other. As always, so much to learn.

Grandpa was asleep when he let himself back in, and Yuugi moved carefully to be certain not to wake him up. If he had any memories of his past, he might have thought that he reminded him of someone. He didn't know who, but since he had no memories, he also didn't quite think that. The point was, Grandpa was a good old man who didn't need to be awakened in the middle of the night by the Spirit that had come to occupy his grandson's body.

He closed the door to Yuugi's room carefully and sat himself down on the chair. He wasn't even breathing hard. The Puzzle had done that much for him. He should have been out of breath from all the running he'd done to get back here before it was too late, or too early. Instead, he felt fine.

Almost as soon as he sat, his fingers began to dance across flesh once again. It was the faintest of caresses, much like what Yuugi had done to the Puzzle pieces only days earlier. He smiled briefly, and hoped again that Yuugi could feel what he was doing. He would like to repay him for all those brief moments that they had shared since Yuugi had first touched the Puzzle.

Slowly he began to remove the uniform, ready to change into Yuugi's sleepwear and return the body to it's rightful owner. One by one he removed the special additions he'd placed there, the ankhs, the sleek boots, the collar...

He stopped as he was unbuckling the collar. No. No, he wanted to leave something, something that would remind Yuugi of him. Or remind him that Yuugi was his. He would never need that reminder, as that knowledge flowed through the veins he didn't have much like the blood he also didn't have. But he wanted it anyway.

Carefully, he fastened the collar again and took a look in the mirror. It felt very much as if it belonged there, and he stroked the soft leather of it gently. Yuugi looked natural wearing it, even if it wasn't technically Yuugi looking in the mirror at the moment.

He reached out, as he had before he'd left, to brush the tips of his fingers against the mirror. Was this what he was? A pale reflection of Yuugi? It might not be all that he was, but it could be what he was now...and what he might be doomed to forever be.

Nor did it matter, at the moment. He was Yuugi, and Yuugi was he, and they were two sides of the same coin, the same soul. They would always be with one another from now on.

A spark of mischief lit in him, and he leaned forward to press his lips against the reflected ones. It wasn't much of a kiss, but until he could hold Yuugi in arms that were his own, it would have to do.

As he moved back, he could see the faintest hint of condensed breath on the glass, and he touched it briefly, bringing his finger to his own lips. Again, not much of a kiss, but he would take what he could get.

He could feel warm breath on his borrowed flesh now. It wasn't his breath, and yet it was him doing the breathing. He decided not to think about this very much, as it could be so very confusing.

There were much more interesting things to consider at any rate. He finished changing Yuugi's clothes, and resisted the urge to admire the full body when he had the chance. It would be a beautiful sight, he was certain, but as much as he wanted to indulge himself, he wanted to be certain Yuugi was in bed and asleep as quickly as possible. There were going to be changes coming in the morning, and Yuugi would need all of his strength to deal with them.

Ushio would never bother him again. He was very certain of that. There was a slim chance that he would awaken from the Illusion of Avarice, but only if he truly changed, to become less greedy and selfish. If that didn't happen, he would be trapped in his dreams of riches and wealth forever. It was no less than what he deserved. The audacity of him, to threaten his Yuugi's life...

There would be no more of that. This was just a beginning. He would see to it that Yuugi had the best of everything from now on. Anyone who dared to lift a hand to him or anyone he cared about would pay for it, with their life or sanity. Perhaps even both if the offense was strong enough.

He settled himself in bed, adjusting the body until he was comfortable. He was briefly concerned that the collar would give him some kind of a problem, but it didn't. Instead, it felt as natural for it to be there as his own skin would have felt. That was good; it meant Yuugi wouldn't be inclined to take it off. That must never happen. Yuugi was his. Yuugi simply hadn't yet been informed of the fact.

Not that he needed to be. The signs of the Spirit's ownership had already made themselves clear. Hadn't Yuugi given himself to him, by putting the Puzzle together and releasing him? Hadn't Yuugi wanted him all these years? If he hadn't, he wouldn't have kept the Puzzle. Yuugi might not have known that was what he was doing, but there was no need to quibble about that. What was done was done. They were together now. There would never be any going back.

He traced a hand across Yuugi's face one last time, for the moment, then closed his eyes and drew himself away from the forefront of their mind. As his own door closed before him, he could see the one across the hallway opening. He couldn't quite see inside of it, but he managed to catch a glimpse of brilliant light, and the sense of a pure innocence that called to him deeply.

Even if there had been a chance it would be otherwise, which there wasn't, he knew that light and that innocence was Yuugi, inside and out. Never would anyone taint it. Again he swore his guardianship and ownership of the boy. Of his boy.

He frowned for the slightest moment as the thought caressed his mind. Yuugi was his. There was no doubt about it. But there was still the faintest hint of wrong about that. It made no sense. How could it be wrong, when it was what was? It made as much as sense as complaining because the sun rose in the east. That was what was meant to be, just as Yuugi was meant to be his.

The Spirit looked at the door again, and wondered what would happen if he crossed over and entered the other room. Would Yuugi be able to see him? Would he care if he did, welcome him with open arms, thank him for what he'd done? Or would he be afraid, terrified by the strangeness of the ageless spirit? When he had been alive, would he have been welcoming of such an event?

No. That he could believe with certainty. He would have been furious at someone taking over his life for even a moment. It was his life, and no one else would have be able to live it but him. Only he could do what it was his destiny to do!

Whatever that had wound up being, which had apparently included being sealed into this thing.

He retained all of the knowledge that he had gained when he had first merged with Yuugi's body. He knew that it was hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years since he had first lived. He wasn't quite certain of where he had first lived, but it was out there somewhere. He would find his way back and learn what he could of himself, if it were even close to possible.

Another day, he would do all of that. For now, he knew that he himself was as tired as Yuugi was. Calling on the powers of the Puzzle and the Dark Game had drained him. He glanced around for a moment, trying to think of where he had seen structures like this before.

Egypt. The word formed in his mind, and tasted so thickly of right that he couldn't envision it being wrong. Was that his home?

No. Yuugi was his home now. Egypt, ancient Egypt, was where he had come from. It wasn't his home any longer.

The room shifted around him, and a bed in a style that was not Yuugi's at all was beside him. It was comfortable enough, however, as he laid down and curled himself under the blankets. How could he not protect Yuugi with all he had at his disposal, when Yuugi had all unknowingly given him freedom, and that freedom had given him a room such as this?

He never knew if he truly slept or dreamed. Sweet shadows wrapped around him in a way that might have been sleep, but it had been so long since he'd done it, he couldn't have recognized it in the first place. The darkness wasn't what it had been like before the solving of the Puzzle. Now, it felt warm and comfortable, with the presence of Yuugi making it all worthwhile. As long as there was his Yuugi, he could face anything. His Yuugi would always be there, as long as he had anything to say about it, and he couldn't envision that he would not have a say in matters.

In that place that was neither asleep nor awake, he could still feel Yuugi's heart and soul all around him. He couldn't see or hear what was going on, but knowledge seeped into him regardless. He knew that the blond boy Yuugi had saved had become his friend: Jounouchi Katsuya. Therefore, from this moment onward, he was also under the Spirit's protection, as was Mazaki Anzu. Yuugi cared for them, so they belonged to him as well.

There would be others, he felt. Some might cause trouble at first. He considered the chance that he might have to unleash a Penalty Game on the other teenager, Honda Hiroto. He did not seem quite as ready to make amends as Jounouchi had been. But he would give him time, because he hadn't yet brought any harm to Yuugi.

Again, he didn't know how much time had passed, only that it had. But the anger he could feel rising with Yuugi called him back to the door. He stood there, noticing that in this room, he wore the same outfit that he had when he'd went to deal with Ushio. That was good, he was certain he could cause it to manifest on Yuugi's body once he stepped out again. It would make it easier than having to go home and put everything back on.

Someone had hurt Jounouchi, and Yuugi as well. The other Yuugi smiled that sweet, insane smile of his.

As the door swung open, he could very well have purred. Another chance to prove how much he loved his Yuugi. There could never be too many of those.

He stepped out. There was work to do.

The End