Like how his partner used to fear him because he was so strange, so alien, the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle now sometimes fears his partner because he is also so strange and alien. It has nothing to do with how the little one looks. More so, it is because of how he acts. There is no menace in Yuugi. There is compassion and innocence – so much that Yuugi is naïve and childish. There is a darkness in Yuugi that was born out of uncertainties and insecurities, out of lack of confidence and few companions. Though even that darkness is small, a little gray, and even weak compared to the light that is within Yuugi's heart and soul – a light that does not blind, but soothes. His light is like the Spirit's sunrise or sunset, or a flower that can glow even in the darkest of days.

Rather, it is the lack of cruelty, the lack of menace and sin in his partner that scares him.

Why this scares him daunts him most of the time. Though when he stops to think about it, when he gazes at Yuugi while the boy isn't looking, the Spirit sometimes believes that it is because such kindness is alien – especially to one who has not opened his eyes or interacted with anything as sweet or gentle as his partner for thousands of years.

When he first met Yuugi more than a year ago, he was confident that the boy was either fake or merely stupid – that no one, child or not, could be as pure as he. He didn't even bother introducing himself, finding more interest in the boy's "friends." These people, beautiful and kind as they were, were tainted and had feelings which they had acted on in wrong ways, effectively hurting others (including the stupid little boy he shared a body with). Everything from bullying, to joining a gang, to turning away from a friend… These were things that were real, things the Spirit could understand, things he himself would do if he were in their situations.

He wouldn't act like a coward as Yuugi had – locking himself in a room and playing games while those who hurt him were still out there, planning their next attack. He wouldn't try to hide from them only to smile at them once they appeared. The Spirit certainly would not have just let himself get hurt by them. He would have fought back. He would have made them feel pain, less than filth. He would have laughed when they looked at him with fear. So that is what he did.

When Yuugi saw the changes and said nothing, the Spirit had thought that the boy was happy that his enemies had suffered. The thought both disappointed and pleased him at the same time. Finally, he had been proven right. Yuugi was a fake. He didn't truly care for his enemies. He was happy to see them gone. The light in his soul was just a ruse, hiding a crueler face behind a blinding mask – a coward's face.

For a long while, the Spirit had nothing to fear, for the only thing which he had found himself afraid of was proven to not have ever existed. He appeared when his vessel was in need, or if one of his friends were in danger. Never mind if sometimes he was too careless and Yuugi had gotten a little hurt. The poor child somewhat deserved it. The Spirit was doing all the saving, all the befriending. He was even the one who was keeping that girl, Anzu, close to Yuugi, even though he himself had no name or face other than Yuugi's. Yet Yuugi had owned the body, had solved the Puzzle, had the Spirit's life and soul in his hands – and the Spirit could do nothing of it. In fact, he didn't find need at all to do anything. The child was stupid enough to accept his presence without being startled only because it benefitted him, and the Spirit felt like he was in a rather convenient spot.

It was only at Duelist Kingdom that the Spirit found that fear again, that alien kindness. The child was lying down on the bare ground, murmuring to himself so low that no one but the Spirit could hear the boy. At first, the Spirit thought that Yuugi was praying, but then small hands touched the Puzzle, and the elder knew that Yuugi must be talking to him.

"…like you better." Yuugi continued. "I don't know what's happening, but I'm glad you're here. Sometimes I wish you could be me. Even though I don't know what would happen to me, I think it'd be better. You aren't like the Spirit that Bakura has, are you? You're too nice, too giving. Thanks for taking care of me, of my friends. Thank you for caring about grandpa…"

He was almost asleep, but he kept talking until he was fully in the world of dreams. Still, his words were in the Spirit's mind: "Even though I don't know what would happen to me." Of course he had to know what would happen, unless he was even more stupid than the Spirit first thought. He had to have observed Bakura, how weak and susceptible he was to the Spirit of the Ring. That's what would happen, foolish child. The Spirit thought. You would be a puppet for someone stronger than yourself – and I am certainly not that cruel.

He tried to ignore Yuugi afterwards, but it was getting more and more difficult. Yuugi wanted the Spirit in control more often, especially when his friends rushed to his aid or tried to protect him. He wanted the Spirit to be him, as he said, regardless of what might happen to the real him. He wanted his friends to be happy and protected. He wanted them to have someone strong that they could depend on, someone without so much innocence that it would lead to naiveté or so much kindness that it could lead to childishness and foolishness. He wanted the Spirit…to be without the burden of him.

So, was that it? Was that the reason he never minded the other entity inside of him, never questioned its existence? The Spirit of the Puzzle tried harder to ignore the fear, to ignore him. Sometimes he would try to use the body less, sometimes as much as Yuugi wanted him to just to spite him, but the younger one seemed happy either way. All over again, the feelings of fear and uncertainty – however much he denied it – came back to the ghost and wouldn't leave. Yuugi wanted him here. Yuugi wanted him to be happy with his (who's?) friends, wanted them to be safe. Yuugi didn't care what would happen to himself. The Spirit once again gazed at the light of Yuugi's soul, something he himself didn't have and saw in no one else. Despite the gentleness and paleness of the light, the Spirit didn't want to stare at it for too long, afraid of what he would see.

Then came the duel with Kaiba.

It was the first time that Yuugi had thought of disowning the Spirit. Although the child never thought of disowning the Puzzle, or shattering it, his thoughts were enough for the Spirit's heart (He has a heart…?) to ache and for his entity to retreat.

He made no effort to comfort the boy until their first duel afterwards – the first duel wherein the two souls would play together, as a team. Yet it wasn't until then. The Spirit left the boy to his friends, to those with hearts tainted far less than his own. The Spirit had never thought so much of the boy until then, but his heart drooped with guilt and anger. He wasn't sure if he was angry at himself or the boy.

The boy, of course! He was too weak to win, to save his grandfather. The Spirit, once again, was the strong one, the one who could fight until the very end for what was good and righteous. Once again, Yuugi was the weak one who could never, ever fight for himself. Now, that weakness has left his grandfather trapped inside of a castle with a madman, and their hope lies not with the Spirit anymore.

Of course, that was all a lie.

The Spirit stared at his hands, not bothering to wander around his "soul room." He did not want to look at anything else that reminded him of himself or the child, of the great contrast between them, of how wrong he was about Yuugi. He realized that if the child were to ever speak to him again, he would have another, new and perhaps even greater fear: that one day, he would hurt Yuugi again, and the child would finally leave him.