Selfish

Sometimes, being around Yugi made the Pharaoh distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn't that he disliked Yugi—he loved him, the boy was everything to him. Since he had awoken inside the Puzzle, his world had narrowed into two things—his past and his partner. What made him uncomfortable was the fact that Yugi was such a good person.

The Pharaoh was not. He wouldn't deem himself a bad person, but he certainly wasn't good. He was selfish, dismissive of the thoughts and desires of others, proud, and took a bit more enjoyment out of the pain of his enemies than Yugi would have approved of. The Pharaoh tried to be kind to the people around him, to be conscientious of their feelings and wants, and he tried especially hard for Tea and Tristan and Joey, whom he was genuinely a little fond of. But that was the fault—he tried. He had to try not to be the arrogant, self-important, slightly-sadistic person that he was. Yugi didn't have to try at all. And it made him very uncomfortable.

Because he didn't want Yugi to find out. He loved and respected and even admired Yugi too much the bear the thought of him realizing what kind person the spirit he had named "Yami" was. There had been a period, at first, when Yami—lost and confused and unable to to recall his humanity let alone his past—had pushed Yugi's consciousness aside and led him to do terrible things. Back then he had been only confusion and anger, not truly or fully himself, but close enough. It was while Yugi started to find Yami that Yami started to find himself.

The spirit who had resided within Yugi's Millennium Puzzle during those first weeks of their partnership was not someone Yami would call himself—that had been a bad person, and it hadn't entirely been Yami. But it was what he was capable of, his raw fury and aggression, untempered by his self-consciousness and self-control, a very genuine part of himself. And Yugi—mercifully—seemed to have more or less forgotten about it. But he couldn't bear the thought of Yugi remembering, of Yugi realizing what Yami really was, how he was. He wouldn't be able to bear it if Yugi frowned at him, tried to distance himself, disapproved of him. Distrusted him. Disliked him.

Hated him.

Yami didn't mind the way he was—but Yugi made him wish he could have been born a good person.

"Hey Pharaoh, look!" Yugi cried out excitedly. He was holding a Duel Monsters card in his hands, and Yami turned from where he was brooding in his Room of Mind and glanced through Yugi's eyes. "Look what I got from that booster pack!"

Buster Blader! Well done, partner! Yugi went warm at the Pharaoh's approval and pride, and Yami allowed himself a slight smile.

"With this we'll be even more unstoppable!" Yami laughed at that, and Yugi did as well.

"Hey, Yug!"

Yugi turned and waved a Joey came up the street. The Pharaoh retired back into his Room of Mind, silently taking his leave. He could feel Yugi's gentle concern follow him, his desire for the Pharaoh to spend time with him and Joey but his respect of Yami's desire to be alone.

The Pharaoh appreciated that Yugi wanted to spend time with him, but Joey was Yugi's friend, and the Pharaoh knew he had to give the boy his space. Yami would would be happy to be with Yugi at every moment, but he knew most people would feel suffocated by that. And sharing a body, Yugi couldn't really get away from Yami, even if he wanted to.

The Pharaoh observed Yugi's goings-on out of the peripheral of his attention—he always watched over Yugi, no matter if he might be doing something else as well—not enough to catch details, but enough to know the general idea of what was going on. He watched, half paying attention and half in a vegetative state of mind, as Yugi spent the rest of the afternoon with Joey, walking to the park, settling at a table to duel, Joey—of course—losing, walking aimlessly around the mall and chatting—often about girls, which always made the Pharaoh feel strange—until they parted ways and Yugi began the trek home in the dark.

"Hey, Yami," he called, his hands on either side of the Puzzle. The Pharaoh rose to the front of Yugi's mind and figuratively sat beside him. He considered asking Yes, partner?, but he knew there was a good chance Yugi had called him just to bring him out of his Room of Mind for company. It Yugi needed something, the boy would ask. If he didn't, the Pharaoh was happy to sit beside him in silence.

"Why didn't you hang out with me and Joey today?" Yugi asked after a while. From anyone else, it almost certainly would have been an accusatory question, but from Yugi it was simple curiosity.

I thought I would give you some space, the Pharaoh explained honestly. He could feel Yugi's disapproval.

"You don't need to give me space, Pharaoh! I love your company. So does Joey—and so do our other friends."

I know, Yugi, Yami assured his small partner. Yugi didn't say anything, but Yami could feel that he wanted to—it felt like a small vibration through their connection, like the gentle shaking of a violin string.

They walked on in silence again.

"Pharaoh… Yami… are you alright?"

Yami turned from his introspection and and back to Yugi. He could feel the boy's reluctance, his worry, his sadness, like a rising tide of lukewarm water.

Why would you ask such a thing, partner?

Yugi came to a stop, his hands clasped tightly around the Millennium Puzzle. Yami frowned. Yugi was holding the Puzzle so tightly his arms were shaking.

"You seem… so distant lately…" His voice trailed off, and it took him a moment before he started speaking again. "I wanted to make sure I hadn't done something wrong. That I hadn't… offended your or anything."

Yugi… the Pharaoh started, his voice pained like his heart. Yugi ducked his head, embarrassed.

"Normally you're right with me." His words seemed to leak from him the same way his tears were. "I can depend on you for anything, to always be there, so that I don't… feel alone… But lately… lately it feels like you're pulling away from me, and it's hard to talk to you, and I… I don't want to lose you. But if I am losing you, I want to know."

His tears fell in silence, splashing against the golden surface of the Millennium Puzzle.

Yugi… The Pharaoh wanted to reach out, to wipe the tears away from Yugi's cheek, to hold him to his chest, to wrap his arms around him and make him feel assured that, no, he'll never be alone again. But he couldn't. And even if he hadn't been a specter, if he had had a body of flesh and bone and blood, he wouldn't deserve it. He wasn't worth of that.

He wasn't good enough.

Yugi, I will never leave you, the Pharaoh insisted, hoping his words would be enough. I will always care for you, immensely. I wish I could explain to you how much I care about you. You'll never lose me. Never. No matter what… Even if you wanted to.

"Yami, I would never want to—"

He broke off mid-sentence and looked around. He sniffed the air.

"Pharaoh, does it smell like…?" Yami reached through the connection, tapping into Yugi's senses.

Smoke, he agreed, his voice grave.

"But what…?" Yugi started, his troubles and tears for the moment forgotten. Yami, for one, was happy to let him forget.

Yugi's eyes alit on a small glow, just over the tops of the trees to his left. The glow was barely noticeable, but it was just enough to illuminate the bottom of a plume of thick, black smoke. His mouth went dry.

"It's a fire!"

Yugi, don't!

But Yugi was already sprinting, cutting across grass and hopping over short dividing walls, his shoes pounding against the pavement, the puzzle smacking against his chest.

Yugi, please! the Pharaoh pleaded. Don't do this! It isn't safe!

Someone might be in trouble! He took a quick turn, nearly careening into a wall. Even though Yami didn't have either, his heart jumped into his throat.

Yugi, the firemen will come! There's nothing you can do, you'll only put yourself in danger! Yami insisted.

Yugi shook his head, still running, and abruptly came to a stop, right in front of the blazing building. It was a regular house in a nondescript neighborhood, and huge, leaping orange flames soared from it and crackled against the night.

Yugi threw an arm up to shield his face from the fire's intense heat. Already it was almost unbearable, and he was still several yards away. He couldn't imagine what it would be like for someone trapped inside. His hands tightened into fists and he started to jump forward.

NO!

Yami didn't mean to shunt Yugi to the side, didn't mean to seize control of Yugi's body, but he had, and now it was him, not Yugi, who stood before the house as it went up like dry tinder.

Pharaoh! Yugi called. He was surprised, but not concerned. He trusted Yami. There might be someone inside—we have to help them!

"… It doesn't matter."

Yugi hesitated.

What do you mean?

The heat from the fire was so intense, the Pharaoh's throat—no, Yugi's—already felt sucked of all moisture, his tongue a thick cake of dried mud.

"It doesn't matter if there might be people in there, Yugi. I won't let you go in."

Pharaoh!

The call was like a blow, right to the gut and right to the head. The Pharaoh had to close his eyes to orient himself.

How tragic—his name was the sound of Yugi's heart breaking.

Yami, please, Yugi begged, his voice small and weak. There might be people in danger. The firemen aren't here yet—but we are. We might be able to save them.

"I will not risk you, my partner," the Pharaoh said, his voice unyielding to the point of harshness. "I cannot allow you to risk your own life for only the possibility of saving someone else's."

What if it was Joey in there?! What if it was Tea, or Tristan, or Bakura?!

"That's different. They're our friends."

But that's the point! If someone's in there, they're someone else's friend! … Maybe even someone else's partner.

Yami's hand clenched around the Millennium Puzzle, the corners digging into his palm. He saw what Yugi was doing.

"I don't care," he said, grinding the words between his clenched teeth. "You're my partner, and I won't risk you." He started to turn away, and now he felt Yugi panic, felt him start to struggle. He was trying to wrest control from Yami. The Pharaoh shoved him aside with terrible ease.

Pharaoh, you can't! Yugi cried out. We have to help them! Yugi kept beating against him, throwing himself against Yami's will. Pharaoh! PHARAOH!

Yami ignored him and kept walking away from the fire.

Yugi was really panicking now, concern turning to unsettlement turning to actual terror. Yami had never taken control like this, had never suppressed him to such a degree since the very beginning. The tension in their connection rang like a scream.

There were tears in his voice.

Spirit! You promised you wouldn't go against my will again!

Yami stopped. Images of Pegasus' castle flashed in his mind, images of Seto Kaiba standing on the edge of a tower, goading Yugi, goading Yami, into killing him.

"I did," the Pharaoh agreed. He started walking again.

You promised… Yugi repeated. The tears were gone, replaced only with a sense of brokenness.

An enormous CRACK sounded behind them, and the roof of the house caved in with a crash that shook the pavement Yami walked on. A scream pierced through the night, sharper than the edge of a playing card, sharper than the knife Yami had just stabbed between Yugi's ribs.

"Only good people keep their promises, Yugi."

[END]

Sorry for suddenly updating this, but I did have two things I wanted to say, so I thought it might be worth it.

First, I received a review from a Guest that I wanted to address. The review is as follows, word for word (and isn't meant to mock the sender at all, so if it does so, my sincerest apologies):

"Yami isn't a bad person as much as Yugi is WAY too generous. Yami may be selfish but Yugi is too reckless and giving. Not everyone is worth one's life. And, had it come to it, Yami would die for Yugi...just not anyone else probably. So he's nobel when it is worthwhile."

This review is entirely correct, but shows that the point of the story was missed. The point of the story isn't to say "Yami is a bad guy"—I'm not trying to reflect on Yami's moral behavior, I'm trying to reflect on what Yami thinks of his moral behavior. The story is meant to show what Yami thinks of himself, and himself in contrast to Yugi. It's meant to highlight the negative aspects of Yami that often get glossed over—like the fact that he's actually got some sadistic qualities to him—that, personally, I think make him so fascinating. I'm not trying to say whether Yami's a good person or not—that has nothing to do with it. It's entirely Yami's reflection on himself. To be completely honest, I don't even know if I think he's just a good person or just a normal person—I can't really decide. But the way I interpret him, Yami DOESN'T think that he is, and that's what I wanted to show.

The second point I wanted to make is that I'm… considering extending this? I'm not certain what I want to do. On the one hand, I love it being simple, clean, and a one-shot that settles itself quite nicely. I don't want to encroach on its feeling of completeness. On the other hand, I think dealing with the fall out of this—not even so much the event so much as the way Yami will handle "revealing who he really is" to Yugi—would be fascinating to think about and write. It wouldn't be LONG— there wouldn't be a whole lot of action or "plot" in the sense of driving events, but it might be another chapter or two of characters dealing with the emotional back-lash of what occurred.

So… really, I leave it to you guys. What would YOU like me to do? If you want me to leave it, I will totally agree (and I won't take it as some back-handed insult that you don't like my writing or anything—don't worry : D ). However, if you'd prefer that I add some more, and went into it a little bit more, I'd be more than happy to.

I don't really know if this will reach any of you who've already read and reviewed this (thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed—I really appreciate and adore your feedback), but if it does, as well as to new readers, I'd really love to know your thoughts on the matter.

Thank you very much.

~Lauren "Atakiri Mizuyuki"