This is the first story I've posted where it's not already finished... This is a rather strange idea I had for a fic, so I decided to write it. I hope you all enjoy it!
Yami darted through the water, swimming as fast as he could from the realities of his fate. The Counting had just been finished, and he was one of them. It was nearing his seventeenth birthday, and in a few days he would be obligated to choose a human host. For twenty-three years he would wear that form until he would return to his proper habitat to find a mate and have children.
Yami stopped, resting against the sandy ground beneath him. Something told him that humans didn't deserve this kind of treatment. If someone told him that something was going to crawl inside him and take over his body… even after everything the history lessons had taught, he couldn't believe that all the people in the human race were evil. How could such a thing be?
Thousands of years ago, the humans had rejected the Karish. They had driven them from their homes in the rivers, lakes, and streams of the world and banished them to the Great Sea. But who could blame them? Karish could have nearly limitless control over human beings—of course they would be afraid of them.
Now that millennia of propaganda had wormed its way into the young Karish minds, turning the public back to the humans' side would be impossible. Yami didn't understand why he had to go through this whole "bonding" process anyway. Why should he spend time in a human body trying to hate more when he could be spending time peacefully at home, raising a family?
"Yami!" Bakura called to him. It wasn't audible, naturally—Karish had no mouths to speak with. All Karish communicated telepathically. "What's wrong with you?" Bakura rebuked. "We're finally up for our turn in the world! You should be happy!"
"How can I be happy when we are ruining innocent lives, Bakura?" Yami retorted. "This whole procedure is pointless, you know that."
Bakura twirled in the water. "Oh, so you're pitying the humans again, are you? When will you realize that they get what they deserve? We go up to the surface to punish them for what they did to us."
"If that's so, then why not possess every human and never let them go?" Yami asked. "Your logic is flawed, Bakura. All Karish law is flawed!"
"We need to mate, Yami. Maybe one day we'll have enough numbers to posses all the humans on all of Dry Land, but for now we have to bide our time," Bakura answered, spewing the repetitive teachings of the elders word for word. "A few generations from now, we will have enough of our kind to rule the earth that is rightfully ours!"
"Why can't you be happy where you are, Bakura?" Yami demanded. "The Great Sea is our home. Dry Land doesn't belong to us."
"We used to live up there, and we'll do so again…" Bakura mused. "One day we'll fill the rivers and the streams and the lakes that we've heard about. One day there will be so many of use that they can't drive us out again."
Yami did an angry loop-the-loop. "This is madness, admit it. I just want to stay in the water where I belong and live in peace."
"That's never going to happen," Bakura stated. "You have to go to Dry Land before you turn eighteen, Yami. Anyone who decides not to is executed."
Yami remembered. Yami remembered all too well. His father was the one who had instilled his values in him, and now he was gone because of that. Instead of going to Dry Land, he had given birth to a son and taught him everything he believed. Then he was convicted of heresy and doomed to the Shore.
Karish could only stay out of a wet or moist climate so long before they suffocated. Humans provided enough water to live comfortably in, but if a Karish was doomed to lie on the hot sands of the Shore… it would only be a day or so before the Karish ran out of water in their pores and died.
"If I must do it, I will, Bakura," Yami said finally. "But don't expect me to be as happy as you are."
Yugi got his backpack and left his last period at a snail's pace. He knew what was waiting for him as soon as he left those doors. He didn't want to have to face it again. Day after day he went out there and was attacked by those morons. Then he picked what was left of himself off the ground and walked home, avoiding his grandfather's gaze before he went into the bathroom to clean his wounds.
"Yugi," the history teacher, Miki, said, "are you alright? Every day you leave the class as slowly as humanly possible. Most kids are jumping out of the windows in order to get home as soon as they can."
"I'm just… not in the mood to rush much, Miki-sensei," Yugi answered. "I don't have anywhere that I really want to be."
"Troubles at home?" Miki asked. He had seen the problem too many times in his decades as a high-school teacher not to recognize that something was wrong.
Yugi shook his head. "Home's not the problem, Sensei." It's the road towards home.
"Well, if you're certain. I'll see you on Monday with your homework, Mutou-san?"
"Yes, Miki-sensei. I'll have it all finished." Yugi answered, and left the classroom at last. He was very careful to complete all his homework and study and everything. The last thing he need was Joey, Tristan, and his grandpa picking on him at the same time. The elder Mutou did not tolerate laziness.
"Well, look who's late again," Tristan observed, cracking his knuckles menacingly. "For a moment, we thought you weren't going to show. We might have had to come and get you."
"Yeah," Joey agreed. "Somethin' coulda been wrong." They grinned, baring their teeth in a way that way more predatory than friendly.
Yugi slid his backpack off his shoulders and closed his eyes. Something hard collided with him cheekbone and sent him to the hard pavement. "What's the matter, squirt? Are we not doing a good enough job for ya?" Tristan demanded. "Are we making you bored?"
Yugi remained silent. Joey kicked him in the stomach. "Answer us!"
Yugi coughed, holding his abdomen as shooting pains went through it. "N-no… please," he pleaded.
"Good, he's begging again," Tristan said, satisfied. "I thought we were going too easy on him."
After another fifteen minutes of agony, Tristan and Joey blithely walked off and left Yugi on the ground. Shaking with pain, Yugi lifted himself from the ground and got his backpack. Another day in his horrible life. He got himself home and walked into his house next to the Game Shop, trudging up the stairs and into the bathroom.
He got some cotton balls and an antiseptic and lifted up his shirt. A few tears had been made in his skin from where Joey and Tristan had kicked him. He cleaned them off, one by one, wincing as the painful tingling bit into him. Then he took care of the cuts on his cheeks and lip. Joey and Tristan were careful to only hit him on the face on Fridays. That way the bruises would fade well enough before school started again on Monday.
Yugi walked into his room and sat down on his bed. He wanted to cry. Everything seemed so hopeless. He wanted something to change, anything. He couldn't live that way for the rest of his life.