Chapter Text
Yugi collapsed unceremoniously onto his bed with a groan. Though his hospital stay wasn’t particularly long, it was still nice to finally be in the comfort of his own home. The softness of his own blankets was a huge relief and Yugi sighed contently, burrowing into them further. He sank into the mattress, curling into himself subconsciously. The events of the past few days had really wiped him out, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
After laying on his back for a few moments, staring idly up at the ceiling, he finally mustered up enough energy to crawl out of his cocoon of blankets—albeit reluctantly—and change. The warehouse fire had singed his school uniform in several places and completely burnt through it in others, causing the EMTs to have to cut off his clothing during their rush to the hospital. As such, the only clothes he had throughout his hospital stay was his hospital gown and the flimsy t-shirt and sweatpants they provided upon discharge. It felt like sandpaper on his skin with the way it rubbed uncomfortably against his bandages. So naturally, he was eager to take off the offending outfit and slip into something cozier.
His vision swam and his head pounded with the sudden shift in position. Yugi swayed dangerously, hand shooting out to grab the edge of his bed for support. A light pressure appeared on his shoulder.
“Yugi, are you well?”
The deep voice of the pharaoh reverberated painfully in his skull and he tried his best not to make a face. Several seconds passed in silence. Slowly, Yugi’s vision cleared and it comforted him to see the ghostly outline of the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle at his side. The look of concern in Yami’s eyes, however, had Yugi feeling strangely self-conscious.
“I’m fine,” he said quickly, stepping away from the pharaoh’s outstretched hand. He slowly made his way to the dresser across the room, sliding open the top drawer to take out a pair of pajamas. “Can you, um…“ He gestured vaguely, and thankfully Yami understood, for he suddenly disappeared, having returned to the puzzle.
There was a faint ripple of sadness across the mind link Yugi and Yami shared. I would never invade your privacy, Yugi. I thought you knew that.
No, I know… Yugi removed his shirt, staring at his bandaged hands and arms with shame. It’s just…it’s complicated.
I understand. Truthfully, Yami didn’t, but decided not to voice that concern. If Yugi wanted privacy, then it wasn’t his place to intrude.
Yugi waited until the link grew cold to remove the rest of his clothes. Gauze dressing covered his right leg from just below the knee all the way down to his ankle, while his left leg was spared. The majority of both hands were wrapped tight, and smaller bandages dotted his arms like patchwork, concealing the burns underneath. Thankfully none of them were too serious—the only area the doctors were concerned about was Yugi’s right hand. The second degree burn would likely take upwards of several months to fully heal, and Yugi was due back at the hospital in several days for further evaluation.
He tried flexing his fingers and hissed when they exploded with pain. They were stiff, making movement difficult, but the sting of burnt flesh being stretched made it pointless to even try to use them. Instead, Yugi would have to rely mainly on his left hand, which also happened to be non-dominant.
Easier said than done. It was challenging, but eventually Yugi was able to pull up his pajama pants over his hips. The shirt was an entirely different story. He struggled for several minutes—frankly, too much time—to button the shirt closed, but his fingers would not cooperate no matter how badly he wanted them to. Eventually he gave up, muttering angrily and slamming the drawer closed out of frustration.
The mind link flared to life. Yugi—
I’m fine, I promise. The way Yugi fell back onto his bed told the pharaoh otherwise.
You seem irritated. Are your injuries bothering you? Perhaps you should rest.
Yugi sighed, but didn’t protest. He felt the spirit’s presence as he left the confines of the puzzle and rematerialized next to the bed, kneeling. Yami stared at Yugi blankly for an uncomfortable length of time before his gaze shifted to the bandages swathing his arms and hands.
Something dark flashed across his face before being replaced with a look of guilt. “I am sorry this happened to you, aibou.” He glanced at the Millennium Puzzle resting against Yugi’s chest and frowned. “You should have left me. At least then you wouldn’t have been hurt.”
Yugi sat up in alarm. He was afraid this would happen, Yami blaming himself. How could he have left the Millennium Puzzle behind? It had taken him years to complete, and since discovering the ancient spirit within, he had vowed to help it regain its memories so that it might finally rest. It wasn’t hard to see that he had become attached to the spirit. Abandoning the puzzle just to save himself was out of the question.
“Yami,” Yugi started, at a loss for words. “I—I couldn’t just leave you—“
“Your life is more important than the fate of some measly artifact. ” He referred to the puzzle with such disdain that Yugi’s mouth fell open in shock. Yami reached out to grasp Yugi’s hands, but Yugi was quick to snatch them away, anger boiling up within him.
He curled his hands into fists, ignoring the pain that shot through them as a result. “How could you even say that!? Do you know how long it took me to put that puzzle together, huh?” Yugi fixed the pharaoh with an icy glare and cut him off before he could respond. “Eight years. Eight years I spent trying to solve the puzzle. Only to find out there was a spirit in there the whole time, trapped alone in darkness for thousands of years.” He looked away, hiding his face from Yami’s view as tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. “I promised to help you and you said we were in this together. ”
The tension in the room was palpable. Yami was at a loss for what to do. He had never seen his partner so distraught, and it killed him to know it was all because of him. Yugi’s vow to help the pharaoh went both ways—Yami would do anything to keep Yugi safe, but evidently, he couldn’t even do that. The bandages littering Yugi’s arms and legs were just the physical proof of Yami’s failures.
“Aibou, look at me, please.” Yugi regarded his other half with a weary scowl. It tore at Yami’s heart to see him so hostile; this wasn’t like him at all. He gave his light a gentle smile. “No memory is worth the risk to your health and safety. If protecting you from harm means that I must remain ignorant of my past, then so be it.”
“It was my choice,” Yugi argued, but there was no animosity behind his words. He cradled the Millennium Puzzle in his hands, staring at it with an intense emotion Yami couldn’t quite place. A softness came to Yugi’s eyes. “I couldn’t let you become imprisoned within the puzzle again,” he whispered.
The fierce protectiveness that flooded their mind link overwhelmed Yami and he could only sit there, speechless. It was a strange sensation, to be cared for by another person. Yami had drifted through the darkness of the puzzle for thousands of years—it had been many millennia without a glimpse of the outside world, and with not a single memory to his name (or even a name, for that matter), his understanding of camaraderie and the true nature of friendship had been lost.
Everything changed when Yugi completed the puzzle and set him free. With no recollection of who he was and how he became trapped within the Millennium Item, all he knew was that Yugi had released him and the spirit would do anything to keep his host safe, so that he may one day solve the riddle that was his identity. He didn’t expect to form such a strong connection with this other half along the way, much less that it be reciprocated. Every day brought the two closer together, their spirits interlacing even tighter, and while Yami knew Yugi cared for him, he could have never imagined the extent to which their bond ran.
“Aibou…” Gingerly, the pharaoh placed his translucent hands upon Yugi’s shoulders, careful not to apply too much pressure. Though he wasn’t actually corporeal, he knew Yugi could still faintly feel his touch, so he took care not to aggravate the teen’s wounds. Yugi looked up at the sensation, eyes shining with sorrow. “I cannot even begin to adequately thank you for your selflessness. I just wish the events of that day had gone differently.”
“Yugi?”
Without warning, the door to his bedroom opened. Light from the hallway poured in and revealed the short silhouette Yugi recognized as belonging to his grandpa. The shadowy figure cleared its throat awkwardly before flipping the lightswitch.
Yugi squinted against the sudden brightness, an uncomfortable pressure building in his head. “Dinner is ready,” Solomon informed him. “And afterwards you need to soak your burns. The doctor recommended taking a lukewarm bath.”
Yugi nodded, but made no move to stand up and follow him. “I’ll be down in just a minute.”
“Take your time.” His grandpa hesitated in the doorway. “Are you feeling alright?”
He blinked, eyes flickering to the spirit of the pharaoh floating next to him which he knew his grandpa couldn’t see. He coughed awkwardly into his sleeve. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
Solomon smiled sadly. Yugi didn’t miss the way the elder’s eyes flickered between the dressings on either of his hands and the cuts and bruises that peppered his face. The pity contained within his gaze made Yugi squirm. He looked away uncomfortably, inwardly pleading for his grandfather to leave him alone. There was a twinge of guilt that followed the thought, for he knew his grandpa was only trying to look out for him, but Yugi knew the trouble he was getting into by staying behind in the warehouse fire. There was no one to blame but himself. He just wished Yami and the others could understand that.
The only person that deserves blame is whoever tried stealing the puzzle in the first place. And I have the feeling this will not be the last time we encounter this stranger. We must be careful moving forward.
Hey, stop reading my thoughts!
It is hard to ignore them when you broadcast them over our mental link, Yugi.
He felt an embarrassed blush creep up his cheeks. That wasn’t meant to go over the link. Frowning, he tried averting his thoughts. He really needed to learn how to block their connection better. Not that he was growing distrustful of the pharaoh—there were just some thoughts that Yugi would rather keep to himself.
Regardless, we can resume this conversation later. Your grandfather is trying to get your attention.
Yugi blinked, redirecting his attention back to his physical surroundings. His grandfather was giving him a curious, almost worried look. The teen shook his head in order to clear his mind.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” His grandpa pressed. Yugi rolled his eyes, forced himself to stand.
“Well, I am feeling kind of hungry…”
Solomon smiled. Clapping a hand on Yugi’s shoulder, he gently guided his grandson down the hall. The spirit, deciding to give Yugi some space after that rather heated exchange, retreated to the familiar maze within the Millennium Puzzle. He walked over to one of the hundreds of staircases in the dark, never-ending room, and sat down with a despondent sigh.
Now more than ever, it was clear to the pharaoh that regaining his memory was crucial to fulfilling his destiny, whatever it may be. While his recollection of the past was practically non-existent, he was aware that he originated from ancient Egypt and had some connection to the pharaoh of the time. Perhaps he was the pharaoh—after all, according to Yugi, the Millennium Puzzle was found in an unknown pharaoh’s tomb, not to mention many of their adversaries had referred to him as such. But how had his spirit ended up in the puzzle? Was he liberated from his prison thousands of years after the fact for a specific purpose, or was it just an accident?
Despite the mystery surrounding his reawakening, there was definitely a reason the entity controlling Bandit Keith wanted the Millennium Puzzle. It seemed the stranger would stop at nothing to claim it for himself, and that was something the spirit could not, would not allow to happen. Pegasus had already tried once—who knew how many other power-hungry psychos were out there, eager to get their hands on the Millennium Items? And since it seemed impossible to convince Yugi to part with the puzzle despite the fact that his very life was at risk, Yami would have to make sure to protect his light with every ounce of power he could muster.
Which meant the two of them had to work as a team. It was of no help to either of them to argue about the Millennium Puzzle and if the risks to Yugi’s safety were worth carrying it around. Yami now knew that Yugi would do anything to keep the puzzle, and by extension him, safe. Now it was Yami’s time to return the favor.
The spirit of the puzzle groaned, leaning his head back to rest against the cold stone steps. The task of regaining his memories seemed daunting, but as long as he had Yugi by his side, he knew all would be well in the end. For now, however, allowing Yugi to heal was the priority. And while his other half had dinner and tended to his wounds, the spirit allowed himself a moment to rest and prepare for the arduous journey ahead.
He shut his eyes, exhaling softly, and waited for the darkness to claim him.
~*~*~*~*
Dinnertime that evening turned out to be quite the ordeal. Unable to feed himself due to the painful burns on his hands, some of which were beginning to blister, Yugi had to be fed by his grandfather, who took care of the teen in between taking bites of his own meal. It made Yugi feel like a toddler again, robbed of his independence, and he wasted no time in hiding himself in the bathroom once the last bite of beef teriyaki entered his mouth.
He shut the door behind him rather forcefully and quickly bolted the lock shut. Out in the kitchen, he heard his grandfather call “Don’t forget; the water should be lukewarm!” to which he let out a grunt in reply. But filling the tub seemed like too much of a waste, so instead he grabbed a washcloth out of the linens cabinet as he plugged the sink and started the faucet.
The pajama top slipped off his shoulders with ease. The pants could stay on for now; his upper body had suffered the most anyway and required more attention. Carefully, he began to unravel the bandages on his arms and hands. The dressing was damp and sticky, a combination of ointments and weeping blisters. Yugi winced as the gauze peeled away from his skin, sometimes tugging painfully and taking dead layers of flesh along with it.
When he was done, splotches of angry, red welts were exposed to the light, and Yugi could finally see the extent of his injuries. He stared at himself in the mirror, a heavy yet hollow sensation settling in the pit of his stomach. The burns looked much more severe than they had several days ago, but he faintly recalled the doctors telling him it would get worse before it got better, so he tried not to worry about it more than necessary.
Bruises marred his face in a stunning display of purple, blue, and yellow. The colorful blotches almost reminded him of faraway galaxies, and he wouldn’t have minded them as much if it weren’t for the fact that they still throbbed with a dull pain. The only injuries that had actually improved since the fire were several cuts and scrapes on his cheeks. Where there had once been jagged crimson gashes that had caused swelling so substantial his left eye couldn’t open, now only thin slivers of red remained.
Even so, he still looked utterly dreadful and felt much the same. The hammering behind his eyelids had only sharpened as dinner dragged by to the point where his vision was growing blurry around the edges. Yugi shut off the faucet and placed his hands in the now-filled sink, shivering involuntarily upon contact with the chilly water, but sighing at the relief it brought his raw, blistering hands.
He stood there for several moments, head hanging low, listening to the quiet that had befallen the room. Faintly, he heard the pitter-patter of raindrops on the windowsill; he didn’t realize it was supposed to rain today. Suddenly the silence was too heavy, and it registered in Yugi’s mind that he hadn’t heard from nor seen the spirit of the puzzle since he had gone downstairs for dinner. It was highly unusual for the spirit to hide away for so long, and it made Yugi’s heart constrict with worry.
He tried reaching out through their link, probing every corner of his mind for the spirit’s presence. Pharaoh? Are you there?
The lack of response had Yugi’s mind racing. He looked around—perhaps the pharaoh jumped out of the puzzle without him knowing—but saw no one in the room other than himself. He frowned. Maybe the pharaoh was still upset about their argument from earlier that evening. It had honestly shocked Yugi to hear the spirit speak so impudently about the Millennium Puzzle, as if his existence was worthless. Though he knew his safety was at risk by possessing the puzzle, Yugi could not give it up just to protect himself. Whatever was in store for them, he needed Yami, and he knew Yami needed him just as much.
So why was the spirit giving him the silent treatment? Yugi racked his brain for ways to contact the pharaoh, since it appeared he was not willing to talk. A recent memory of Duelist Kingdom came to mind. It had only been several weeks since the tournament had concluded, and yet it felt like a lifetime had come to pass. He recalled encountering a strange man by the name of Shadi, who had managed to enter his mind with the use of his Millennium Key and claimed that Yugi was destined to save the world from evil.
Yugi shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. Thinking about that would only overwhelm him, and that was not the problem he was trying to solve right now. Instead, he thought back to Shadi’s Millennium Item. If he needed to use it to enter other peoples’ minds, then perhaps Yugi could enter his mind on his own. He remembered appearing in Yami’s soul room when he felt Shadi was in danger, but he had no idea how he got there the first time.
Maybe if he thought hard enough it could work. Yugi closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to ground himself. He ignored the ache in his skull and instead looked inward, envisioning his soul as a ball of light at the very core of his being. He followed the light, disregarding all other stimuli as he focused every ounce of his attention towards navigating through his consciousness to reach into the depths of his own soul.
Suddenly, instead of standing at the bathroom sink, he stood in the midst of a seemingly infinite corridor. Beneath him, the floor was metallic blue, almost icy in appearance. On one side of him the wall was made of metal—on the other, dilapidated brown brick defaced by multi-colored graffiti. There was a door on this wall adorned with an eye similar to that seen on numerous Millennium Items, and Yugi instinctively knew that this was the doorway to the pharaoh’s realm.
The Millennium Puzzle.
He approached the door carefully, observing the golden eye with awe. Raising a hand, he reached out to grasp the handle but hesitated. Something about this felt wrong, like he was intruding into sacred territory. Though he had been allowed in before, it was quite possible that he was not welcome now, considering how reserved the pharaoh was acting after their earlier dispute.
Yugi moved to knock on the door. “Pharaoh…?” he called uncertainly. “Are you in there?”
There was no response.
Yugi chewed on his bottom lip in thought. He could turn around now and leave. It was clear the pharaoh was not in the mood to talk. But the whole situation just felt too strange to him. Yami had never ignored him like this before. What if he was in trouble?
With that alarming thought in mind, Yugi wasted no time in twisting the door handle, stifling a grunt of surprise when it offered no resistance and the door flew open on its hinges. The familiar maze of staircases and doorways emerged from the shadows and he only wavered for a moment before stepping inside the Millennium Puzzle.
He shivered, the cold and musty environment causing goosebumps to raise on his exposed skin. The deeper he explored the ancient cavern, the colder it became and Yugi fought against chattering teeth. He didn’t remember it being this cold the last time he was here. Unperturbed, he pushed on, observing the Egyptian hieroglyphics carved into the dilapidated walls with mild interest.
Yugi walked for what felt like an eternity amongst the ruins before stumbling upon a vast atrium, flanked on all sides by walls and staircases that led nowhere. He scanned the room, eyes widening in alarm when he spotted a blue figure laying against a set of stairs, unmoving.
“Pharaoh!” he cried, running over to the ancient spirit. He skidded to a stop, falling to his knees, and grasped the pharaoh’s shoulders roughly. Yugi noted with mounting distress that he wasn’t breathing. Well, he is a spirit, and spirits don’t need to breathe, right? But then he noticed that the pharaoh’s eyes were closed as well, and that was enough to send Yugi into full-on panic mode.
“Yami, what’s wrong? Wake up!” He shook the pharaoh rather harshly and only became more frantic when the spirit’s head lolled to the side and his body stayed limp like a ragdoll. It almost reminded him of Joey and Tristan after they were nearly beaten to a pulp by that douchebag Ushio during their freshman year. Seeing his two friends (though they weren’t exactly his friends at the time) teetering on the edge of unconsciousness had haunted him for weeks, and now that memory was replaying itself right in front of him. For a second Yugi thought he might be sick.
Mercifully, the pharaoh’s eyes cracked open and Yugi found himself staring into the drowsy violet irises he knew so well. The spirit of the puzzle groaned as he sat up, sticking his arms out and stretching like a cat. He blinked several times. It was obvious to Yugi now that the pharaoh was simply sleeping. And he might have laughed it off if he hadn’t shook him so deeply. If he wasn’t thinking about how close he had come to losing the other half of himself.
Yami must have seen the anguish in Yugi’s eyes for he suddenly shot up, stabilizing himself by placing his hands on the teen’s shoulders. At such close proximity he could practically feel the anxiety radiating off his other half in waves. “Aibou, what are you doing here? What’s wrong?” His eyes scanned every inch of Yugi’s appearance, but he found nothing wrong with his light other than the look of devastation on his face.
“I could ask you the same thing!” Yugi’s shrill cry echoed in the vastness of the chamber. He cleared his throat, trying with difficulty to keep his tone calm and steady. “I kept calling for you but you wouldn’t answer! Are you okay?!”
The pharaoh squeezed Yugi’s shoulders reassuringly, giving him a warm smile. “You needn’t worry about me. I was only resting.”
Yugi didn’t look convinced. “Do spirits even need sleep?”
“I was adrift in darkness for thousands of years before you awoke me. I merely returned to that state in order to recuperate. I suppose that could be considered sleeping, in some fashion.”
The teen frowned, taken aback. It wasn’t like Yami to take a break. Besides, Yugi would have thought that being trapped in the puzzle for five thousand years would prevent the pharaoh from residing within it any longer than absolutely necessary. He eyed the taller male warily. “But why?” he questioned, genuinely curious. “Are you sure this has nothing to do with the puzzle breaking during the fire? Maybe it messed with our link more than we thought. ”
He shuddered, remembering the loneliness he felt when he was separated from the Millennium Puzzle, the complete absence of the pharaoh’s presence when it shattered into pieces. And although he managed to put the puzzle back together for a second time, there was no telling what permanent damage might have been done.
Yami seemed to consider this for a moment, but ultimately dismissed the concern with a shake of his head and a soft smile. “I assure you, I am alright.” However, he suddenly looked away, refusing to meet Yugi’s gaze, prompting the teen to crane his neck to try and read the pharaoh’s expression. He forced his face to remain impassive. “I just wanted to give you some space.”
Yugi’s frown deepened. “I thought you wanted space and that’s why you weren’t talking to me.”
Now it was the pharaoh’s turn to look shocked. “Heavens, no! I would never ignore you, aibou. I just—you seemed upset earlier. I didn’t want to make it worse by being around.”
Yugi could have cried right then and there. His heart felt like bursting with the amount of concern and affection the spirit held for him. It felt so nice to be cared for on such a personal level—and while he knew his friends and his grandfather cared about him just as much, the bond he shared with the spirit of the puzzle was different and unlike anything he had ever experienced.
The pharaoh jolted in surprise at suddenly being engulfed in a hug from behind. He twisted around in Yugi’s embrace, getting a facefull of the teen’s hair in the process. Stray hairs tickled the tip of his nose and it scrunched up out of habit. He awkwardly patted Yugi’s back, unsure of what to do in response to the sudden display of affection.
“I’m not angry with you,” Yugi muttered into the pharaoh’s chest. He clung to the spirit like a lifeline, reveling in the physical touch they could share within the safety of the Millenium Puzzle. The tightening of arms around his abdomen told him that the feeling was mutual.
“I truly thank you for saving me once again, Yugi. Your courage and loyalty are admirable.” The pharaoh suddenly pulled away, holding each other an arm’s length apart. Yugi looked up at him, soft lilac eyes searching. For what, Yami couldn’t say. “Please know that I will do everything in my power to protect you from harm. And whatever happens next, we shall conquer together. I will not allow anyone to take the puzzle and separate us again.”
His voice was firm with resolve. Yugi couldn’t contain the smile that stretched across his face. He leaned into Yami again, breathing in the musty air of the puzzle and sighing happily. It was so comfortable like this, wrapped in the warm hug of his partner, his other half. Sheltered in their own little sanctuary and free from the pressure of destiny.
But they couldn’t escape reality forever. It was the harsh truth that Yugi wished he didn’t have to accept.
“Something wrong?” Yami inquired. The subtle way Yugi had withdrawn did not escape his notice.
The teen looked down at his hands. They weren’t painful here, though they still appeared scorched. “I should go back. Grandpa’s probably wondering how much longer I’m going to be in the bathroom.” He chuckled, but it was true. He knew how his grandfather behaved after downing several cups of “tea.”
Yami nodded and dropped his arms to his sides, albeit somewhat reluctantly. He was relieved to hear there were no hard feelings from earlier. It had unnerved him, at the time, to hear Yugi so distraught over the possibility of losing the Millennium Puzzle. He had no idea it took eight years to piece it together or that Yugi never considered giving up in all that time. Suddenly, Yugi’s refusal to leave the warehouse without the Millennium Item didn’t seem so reckless.
Yugi turned towards the way he had entered. “I am right here if you need me,” the spirit reminded him. “Whatever it is, just call and I will be there.”
His other half smiled. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, hands coming up to rest lightly over his heart.
And before the pharaoh had the chance to blink, Yugi was gone.
~*~*~*~*
When Yugi opened his eyes again, he couldn’t see his reflection through the heavy steam fogging up the mirror.
His skull felt like it was being pulverized into dust. Cradling his head in his hands proved to be a mistake on multiple levels—the pressure against his head amplified, flexing his hands felt like his skin was being ripped to shreds, and now his hair was wet.
Wasn’t he supposed to take a lukewarm bath instead of a hot shower? If that was the case, then why was the mirror all fogged up? Yugi reached out to wipe some condensation away, ignoring the pain that sparked over his hands like lightning.
Someone was taking an icepick to the backside of his eye sockets. The pain had him weak in the knees, forcing himself to hang onto the sink with a white-knuckle grip. He blinked, but his surroundings remained an indistinct blur. Maybe the shower wasn’t running after all.
A familiar pressure fell upon his shoulder. “Aibou?” a panicked voice called.
“I-I’m fine, I just gotta—just need to sit down—”
Yugi sank to the floor like his limbs were made of lead. His stomach flipped violently and he gritted his teeth in attempts to keep his dinner from making an unwelcome reappearance. The tile floor was cool against his clammy skin; he rested his head against the porcelain ice pack, practically groaning with relief.
He didn’t know how much time was spent laying there listlessly, but as long as the pharaoh kept rubbing circles into his back then it didn’t matter. Slowly but surely, his headache subsided into something just shy of unbearable. When he opened his eyes he noted his vision was still fuzzy, but sharper than before, and he took the chance of rising to his feet. The spirit of the puzzle hovered around him anxiously.
“I think it is time for you to lay down and rest,” Yami said, tone pleading. He had no idea Yugi had begun to feel so unwell. It was frustrating that a transparent projection of himself was the only thing he could manage, because if he could actually manifest as a tangible being, he would scoop Yugi into his arms and carry him over to his bed in a heartbeat. As it was, he was forced to settle for aiding the teen with gentle reassurances. “The past few days have been difficult so you need time to recover. It is very important not to push yourself when you are not in good health.”
Yugi actually had the gall to pout . “Gotta treat my burns first,” he mumbled. Whether or not the pain was affecting his mental alertness, the pharaoh couldn’t tell. His other half began to unbutton and slip off his pants.
“Y-Yugi! What are you doing?!” The pharaoh slapped a hand over his eyes and quickly retreated back into the puzzle, unwilling to bear witness to Yugi’s personal affairs.
“M’legs ain’t gonna clean themselves,”
Can this wait? You look as though you could collapse at any moment. Getting to bed should be your top priority.
The spirit’s voice was firm and left no room for arguing, but that didn’t stop Yugi from trying anyway. “I’ll make it quick. Doc said I gotta change the dressing every day to prevent infection or whatever…”
He finished removing his pants, then proceeded to undo his bandages. Once his legs were bare, he dipped a washcloth in the sink and gently wiped over the burns, rinsing away any residual ointment and prepping the skin for a new set of gauze. He didn’t spend nearly as much time on his legs as he did his arms and hands, but he figured it was better than nothing.
The medicated cream prescribed to him by his attending physician was thick and cold as he slathered it across his burns, but it eased the constant stinging a fair amount, so it didn’t bother him that much. Yugi fished out a roll of gauze from the medicine cabinet and began rewrapping his injuries methodically, pausing every once in a while to close his eyes against the pain in his forehead.
After a decent amount of time had passed, Yami decided it was safe to leave the puzzle. He was thankful Yugi was fully dressed when he reemerged next to him—Yugi was finishing up dressing his hands and subsequently pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. He swayed precariously on his feet.
“Time for bed,” Yami encouraged. Yugi nodded wordlessly and unlocked the bathroom door, stepping out into the hallway unsteadily. The pharaoh grasped his forearm in a futile attempt to support his weight and keep him stable as he hobbled down the hall towards the staircase. It took perseverance and lots of breaks, but eventually the two made it up the stairs and back into Yugi’s bedroom.
Yugi plopped down face-first onto his mattress with a soft whine. “Mmhhhffmm,” he whimpered, words muffled through the thick pillows. The teen let out an immense sigh which towards the end morphed into something the pharaoh could only describe as the guttural warning of a cat ready to pounce.
“...What?” Yami scratched his head. Apparently Yugi turned into a petulant child when he wasn’t feeling well.
“I said my head is exploding ,”
The way Yugi clutched at his head, eyes screwed shut in blinding pain, had Yami’s heart aching with sympathy. In his current state he was useless to his other half. Yami had never really wished for his own body, content to be relegated to an inconspicuous, supporting figure. But now that his vessel was more vulnerable than ever, his desire for worldly existence overwhelmed him.
He wanted, he needed to feel useful. Needed to be useful. It was torture to float there as a disembodied shadow, unable to interact with his surroundings, unable to help. He could only do the things he wanted if he was controlling Yugi’s body, but they had come to an agreement that Yami would do no such thing unless it was absolutely necessary—that, or they were participating in a duel.
Now more than ever, the spirit of the puzzle felt like a burden.
Insignificant.
Worthless .
“Yami?”
The pharaoh flinched, suddenly ripped from his pitiful self-loathing reverie. Yugi was staring at him with half-lidded, sluggish eyes. A hand crawled out from under the blankets and reached into the air, seeking comfort.
Yami took the small hand in his own. It was soft and warm, and the pharaoh squeezed it gently, then lowered himself to the floor so he could look this partner in the eye. “Yes, Yugi?”
“Don’t go into the puzzle tonight. Stay out here with me, please.”
His breath caught in his throat. Yami opened his mouth to protest, but the hopeful look Yugi leveled against him was impossible to ignore.
If he couldn’t do anything else to ease Yugi’s pain, the least he could do was this.
Tenderly, he ran his thumb over Yugi’s knuckles. “Of course. Sleep well, aibou.”
He remained there, keeping vigil over his partner until the teen finally fell asleep. And even when Yugi was deep in slumber, Yami refused to let go of his hand.