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It's suffocating.
I am nothing. I am smoke, I am a relic. I am insubstantial, a mirage. He is now, he is real.
I am nothing more than a spirit, a temporary thing. There will never be any chance, not even the slightest, and he can never know. He can't.
I wait for him, for every time our minds touch, our hearts. My other heart. My Other Self. Does he know what those words do to me? How much closer to the bone I feel them, too close? And how it hurts to know that that's not how he means them, not how he sees them? I can tell by his smiles, his eyes, the way he says it all.
And I can't breathe. Shouldn't be able to, anyway. I am smoke, I am temporary, I am a mirage, an illusion, I am empty.
So why do I feel the stabbing pain, the constriction in my chest, the feeling of my throat closing? The feeling of wanting to give to someone that which they won't accept, can't accept?
The knives dig into my heart and twist.
His smiles turn quizzical; he doesn't guess at my pain, so he cocks his head and asks how I'm doing. I put on my bravado, my winks, my thumbs up. Doing great, Partner! I hope I'm not as shitty a liar as I feel.
What I want to tell him is when I wasn't lying. I want to be with you forever– that was no lie, that was not wholly platonic, and yet I didn't truly realize until he started crying. My heart– if I actually have one– leapt into my throat and nearly gagged me, but I kept myself stoic as ever. Pointed out our friends, ignored how his hands clutched the Puzzle close, the burn marks still so visible on his palms. The way I would kiss those, if I could. If I was allowed.
Was that love, what he did? Did it feel like love? To him?
I shouldn't entertain that idea.
They talk about the flowers inside that consume you, don't they? That leave you choked, unable to speak your true feelings. I've heard it's cruel to the other person. I've heard it's unfair to them. Manipulative, even if they don't know.
But I can't help it.
I try, I try to root out the disgusting blooms, but they're persistent. Life– such as it exists for me– mocks me. Every smile on my face feels stretched into fakery, every cocky statement that falls from my lips is hollow. And yet I am only truly “alive” when there is danger, when I am Dueling, when I am staring death in the face, knowing that if I go down, Yugi should still be okay, should still be safe. I'll take the bastards with me.
And the flowers will die with me, too. And he will never know.
Sometimes he is less quizzical, more concerned. I keep up the farce in the exact same way, and feel my insides– have I really got insides– twist. His eyes are such a deep purple. I wish he wouldn't frown. I want him to smile, to be happy. I want to protect him. I know it's his body, and he needs to be in it, as himself, without me– and still, I am desperate to keep him safe. If I had my memories and my own body, if I could just have those things– even though we'd be so separated–
If everything was different–
In my soul room, I cough, I gag. I vomit flowers. They are an obscene red. There is blood mixed in; I couldn't tell at first until I saw that the blooms were glistening. I touch one, rub the blood between my fingers, touch my mouth.
In a daze, I slowly wipe my fingers across my cheeks, wander to a wall, where there's suddenly a mirror. I stare at myself. Blood in the mouth, blood on my face, blood red eyes, bloodshot eyes.
More coughing. More flowers. More blood. Dripping down my chin, onto my shirt, the Puzzle–
He knocks. I jump, wipe at my face, my mouth, I try to clean myself, try to kick away the flowers, stomp them out of existence. Maybe if I'm quiet, he'll go away– I don't want him to go away– but he can't see this, can't see me like this. I can't let him know.
On the other side of the door, I hear him calling for me. I try to slow my breathing. He can't come in. I don't allow it, I keep the door shut and locked. He would ask about it later, and I would blink in mock confusion. I must have been resting.
I feel him leave, feel his questions, feel his loneliness. I want to fling open the door, tell him no, come back, I don't want you to go. But I'm covered in blood and petals.
What do you say to someone you want, who will never want you? When you're choked with longing, when you are bleeding out from the want of them? When you are vomiting all the flowers you cannot give, and they are scraping your throat? When you finally break down sobbing from the pain of it all, your own loneliness, your shame? Your fear? Your misery, knowing that it can never be, because he won't, he won't?
I am only “alive” when staring death in the face, when I am Dueling, when everything is on the line. When chaos surrounds me, and I look at everyone's fearful faces, when I feel Yugi's fear and trepidation, when they are all still so brave– he is so brave, so trusting of me. When I need to protect. When I need to jump in front of them, keep them safe and as unscathed as possible. That is the only time I am focused, real, present. The only time I have purpose. The only time I am not drowning in my own mind.
When they all cheer me on; when I look and see Yugi's encouraging smile, feel his belief in me… The only time I feel real is when he sees me, when I feel him. When he reminds me that I can do this.
And I feel it, and believe it. Believe in myself. Believe in him.
I'm nothing without him.
Everyone thinks that I'm the strong one, that I'm the one giving something to Yugi. Even he thinks that. But they're all so wrong. He is the one who gives to me.
And I have to swallow flowers because of it, no matter how they choke me and strangle me. No matter how they rise like so much bile, no matter how I taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. He smiles at me, and I feel the flutter of the petals. I feel adrenaline. I feel shame. I feel agony.
I vomit the flowers. My mouth turns red with them, with blood, with my pain made manifest.
Take this away from me, I beg– to who? Empty air, nothingness; a sob into the void. Nothing lessens the pain, nothing makes it easier to bear. I love him, I know, and despite being a ghost, it's slowly killing me.
I choke, gag, vomit, cry. Everything hurts. He knocks and calls for me. I am covered in pain. I can't let him see. Can never let him see.
I can never tell him I love him.