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The other Yugi came into awareness that morning after reacting to his Other Self’s distress following his coughs and groans as he woke up. After a more serious coughing fit that shook their body with the force of it, he slowly pushed Yugi out of control to properly analyze what was going on.
Yugi went easily; he had been a lot more welcoming of the blackouts and giving up control once he had realized what it was and how the Other Yugi stepped in only with Yugi’s well being in mind. It was probably the only good thing that came out of Death-T: the fact Yugi wasn’t so scared of him anymore after confiding his fears to his friends.
Even so, it seemed like Yugi dipped back into unconsciousness a little too easily, and it made the spirit worried as he felt the sensations of a physical body start to register.
He took note of the suffocating warmth felt throughout the body and the damp sweat that made his pajamas cling to his skin. Sitting up with an ache in his muscles, he skimmed his borrowed memories to be sure, and frowned at the realization. Their body had fallen ill.
It was his fault.
It was in such an extremely foolish way too, he reflected bitterly, and reinforced the idea that he should never pilot their body longer than he had to.
It was just yesterday, when he had just stumbled out of the alleyway, the assailant who dared to lay a hand on his Other Self left twitching and broken in the shadows.
It was truly ridiculous how much danger lurked in the city, and he wished he could somehow convince his Other Self to move away. It seemed like every corner had someone who saw the pure light that was his soul and viewed it as an easy target instead.
He was taken out of his thoughts when a floating white speck fluttered across his vision. He blinked a few times, hoping there wasn’t worse damage to the body than he thought, before another passed. Then another, and another. Looking up he saw a bunch of them floating down from the sky, some landing on his eyelashes.
Awed, he combed through Yugi’s memories and found the single word to describe the strange phenomenon.
Snow.
It was different borrowing the memory versus seeing it directly. Despite having the explanation now, he still found it strangely otherworldly in a way he couldn’t explain.
It was soft and light as it danced throughout its descent. It was bright and beautiful.
It reminded him of Yugi. Except Yugi could only ever be associated with warmth.
He stood there in the cold, watching it fall, snow starting to dust the ground and his shoes, long after the sun had gone down. It was only when he became aware of the chattering of his teeth and the numbness to his fingers that he ran home, snowflakes catching on his clothes in their fall.
Surely the cold and dampness to his hair from the build up of snow crystals led to his body’s defenses lowering past recovery. He cursed himself for his lack of awareness, too distracted by the novel experience to notice the effect it was having on Yugi’s body.
It was his fault, so he decided it was his responsibility to take care of the body he had neglected.
With a soft noise, he got himself out of bed, and shuffled out of the room and down the stairs.
“Ah, Yugi my boy, good morning!”
“Good morning.” he replied, soft and quiet, afraid to give away his presence in the boy’s body. He was cold and intense where Yugi was all soft edges and warm with his demeanor.
Of course, his grandfather would notice, however.
“Are you doing alright?”
“I’m sick.” He answered simply. He knew he could not replicate Yugi’s tone so he opted to speak as little as he could.
“Oh, well that’s no good, right before Christmas too. Let’s hope you’re better by then so you can celebrate with everyone. I told you to be careful about the cold this time of year; you never bundle up despite that.”
Further shame flooded him at that. He had failed his Other Self who trusted him with control of his body.
In his silence, his grandfather peered at him for a moment, like he would occasionally catch him doing whenever the spirit was moving around in his grandson’s body.
“All you can do is rest up and take medicine. Don’t beat yourself up too bad about it. You’re a strong boy too, I’m sure you’ll be better in no time. Here, I’ll make you some breakfast.”
After a beat, he sat down at the table. His stomach turned, and not only at the thought of having to eat while it was weak.
There wasn’t much he could do besides take his grandfather’s advice. He made sure to place anything Yugi might need on the bedside table, and bundled himself up in bed when he started shivering.
It came and went in waves. When it was at its lowest he conceded control, allowing Yugi to go down and talk to his grandfather, who was a bit confused at being greeted again, and update his friends over messages and calls. When it was at its worst he laid in bed, making sure Yugi was deep into his soul room and far removed from the pain and feverish heat burning their brain and blood.
He felt useless; this wasn’t an enemy he could simply challenge to a game and shatter once they lost. He couldn’t send out his shadows to devour the threat when it resided so deeply in their system. All he could do was change a rag he placed over their forehead, drink some water when he could push it past their swollen throat, and take the brunt of the radiating pain and ache in their body. It was almost a punishment, he supposed. He would take it without complaint if it meant Yugi was suffering less for his mistake.
He looked up at the small skylight in his room. Snow was still fluttering by a bright gray sky, body burning as he watched it fall. He hoped that their body would recover soon, more for Yugi’s sake than his own.
When they did, the spirit could properly bundle him up and walk them outside. He could look through Yugi’s eyes and they could watch the snow together, properly.
After resting for most of the day, he finally got to a point where he was able to walk out of the room without worrying he would collapse. At the feeling of his clammy skin, he decided he would take care of washing their body. A bath would help too. He would handle the more demanding aspects and let Yugi relax in the tub afterwards.
He meticulously set up everything he would need for his planned tasks, and stripped himself methodically. Before he walked into the shower, he paused in front of the mirror and stared. His skin was paler than usual, while his face was flushed. The bruises on his body were no longer as frequent or strong, something the spirit allowed himself to be proud of. He traced the delicate lines of his body with his eyes and took in the form that sheltered both their souls, and reaffirmed his promise to keep it safe from any harm.
He would not repeat this failure again. Nothing stung more than the thought of failing Yugi.
In the shower he scrubbed with firm grounding strokes, thorough and precise. He massaged at his scalp, rinsing and repeating, cleaning this treasured vessel. After tending to the weakened body he turned on the tub and let it fill, testing the temperature as it did.
The feeling of submerging into the warm water was pleasant enough to elicit a soft sigh. He sat in the tub for a few seconds to make sure it wouldn’t become burning, before he slowly pushed Yugi’s consciousness back into his body.
Yugi slowly blinked, raising a bit out of the tub out of confusion before he recognized where he was and what was happening and sunk back into the water with a hum.
It was quiet in the room, the occasional sound of water dripping from the faucet, when Yugi suddenly spoke out loud.
“Other Me…I’m not sure if you can hear me, but thank you. You honestly don’t need to do all this, I can handle a cold. I’m sure you still feel sick in my body too. ”
The spirit did. He had taken over the body multiple times before, only to become intensely aware of the way flesh could sting and bruises could ache. He had taken shocks to his body and blows to the face, weapons brandished at him by cowards who couldn’t rely on their strength. He had hurt many times in Yugi’s body before, but he would gladly do so many more times if it meant Yugi felt that pain a little less.
The first memories that flooded his mind upon waking up from darkness were of a boy who was always hurting: if not by some attack from a bully it was from the pang of loneliness that came from being small and overlooked. A fierce need to protect from further pain was instilled in him from that moment, and that meant it applied to the physical fights he would fight for his other self, to the quieter moments like this at home. He would tend to any pain Yugi was victim to.
It was truly his only purpose to exist alongside him after all. Symbiotic with his better half; he refused to be parasitic to such a bright soul.
Yugi stayed in the water for a while enjoying the heat soothing his muscles, the spirit basking in the warmth of his soul, before he slowly rose from the tub. He dried himself off and dressed himself with the pajamas the Other Yugi had left neatly folded for him. He towel dried his hair, a bit more weakly than he usually tousled it, before his hands slid down and the spirit lifted them again. He connected the blow dryer and properly dried his hair, the appliance feeling heavy and straining on his sick-weakened limbs. Combing through the strands, he took gentle care despite knowing Yugi wasn’t conscious to feel it.
The Other Yugi walked their body down the stairs to the kitchen. Earlier he had searched through their memories to try and find some way to help Yugi recover faster. He didn’t find anything other than what he had been obvious: resting, taking medicine, and such. But he did find a memory of a smaller younger Yugi, coughing and wailing at the pain in his throat. His mother had pushed his bangs back, giving soothing pets, before she left and came back with a mug of tea. Yugi had held it carefully in both hands, warming his palms, and drank. It was honey sweet and comforted him greatly. His mother made it whenever she could, before he started asking his grandfather to deliver the same, to his own moments standing over the counter and mixing everything together to treat a sore throat or to ward off a chill.
Moving like the shadows he controlled, the Other Yugi swiftly and quietly moved around the space, grabbing a big mug he had seen Yugi frequently use, the jar of honey from the cabinet, a round lemon, some fresh ginger. He slid a knife, heavy and sharp, out of the holder on the counter, and despite not having done so before, he sliced through the ingredients smoothly and efficiently. He brewed the tea then followed it with everything else, going off of the remembered taste and Yugi’s own attempts to get the flavor right. He stirred in the honey then cradled the cup in his hands and pushed Yugi forward.
Yugi jolted, blinked, then looked down to see his hands holding the cup. A small smile grew on his face as he lifted the drink to his lips, then pulled it away with an even bigger smile.
“You made me some tea? Thank you.”
The fact that Yugi didn’t know if his other self could hear him, yet always took the time to address him just in case, warmed the spirit’s heart more than anything else.
However, instead of drinking the tea in the kitchen, or heading upstairs to enjoy it in his room, Yugi gripped the mug and started walking towards the front of his house.
The spirit was confused until he saw Yugi start to grab his coat and shuffle on his shoes, and he started to panic. Yugi wasn’t anywhere near well enough to be going out, especially at this time of day. He watched as Yugi stepped out of the house and stopped in front of the store, mug still in his hands.
“You stayed out in the snow, didn’t you, Other Me?”
The spirit felt a wave of cold dread. Yugi knew.
“I had done that once, when I was younger. It doesn’t always snow around here so it was the first time it was really falling and sticking. I thought it looked so pretty. I stayed out for hours, and I ended up getting sick. My mom scolded me all throughout it.” He chuckled.
The spirit wasn’t sure how to feel, being compared to a child but also being reassured by sharing the same reaction to his first experience with seeing the snowfall.
“I’m sure there’s lots of things you want to do, and you’re always welcome to do it. We share a body, that means you get to use it too. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”
Except the spirit didn’t really want to do much if it wasn’t related to protecting Yugi. He didn’t have many thoughts that weren’t about shielding the one he shared his soul with or crushing the people who tried to go against that. Anything else felt like a misuse, since he was taking away from Yugi when he did that. He was meant to be a shadow, and shadows didn’t walk in the light.
But shared experiences. Where he could lean into Yugi’s emotions and feel the soft feedback, where he could gain satisfaction from Yugi being happy and safe and free. Maybe he could be fine with sharing that, even if it was selfish. He couldn’t allow himself to disassociate from Yugi’s happiness entirely.
“Once I’m feeling better, take over not for me. But for you too. Even if it’s just to watch the snow.”
He wanted to take over, yes, to turn their body around and march Yugi right back up to his room to burrow under the safety of the warm plush blankets, where the cold couldn’t dig its claws into Yugi and make him even more sick.
Then Yugi took a sip from his still steaming mug, and looked up to the sky with a warm satisfied smile. The spirit found himself staring.
“Let’s watch it for a little bit together, then head inside.” He grinned and raised his mug. “I’ve got my tea to keep me warm.”
The snow was backdrop to his side profile, his skin glowed against the pale white. His long lashes caught a stray flake or two, his skin flushed but it made him look alive and warm.
The spirit wasn’t watching the snow fall, his Other Self infinitely more captivating.
“Isn’t it beautiful, Other Me?”
Yes, yes he was.