misura
in
springkink
YuGiOh (Yami/Yugi)
Title: - (untitled)
Author: misura
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Yugi thinks he might have discovered what it means to be in love.
Until Yami gets a body of his own, Yugi never worries about his being real.
There is, Yugi knows, something illogical in this, something that makes him reluctant to confess his fears to Jounouchi or Honda, or even to Anzu, who is far too kind to ever make fun of someone's fears, no matter how silly or irrational they might be.
Still, it used to be that all Yugi needed to do was to concentrate a little, to reach out with his mind and to touch that other part of himself, his second self, the one now known as Yami. He knew (even then, especially then) that if he'd tell other people about Yami, they might not believe him or consider him crazy, but Yugi himself never felt any doubt at all about Yami's existence. Yami was there, after all, living in his head, and Yugi'd never have to be alone again.
Now, there's only emptiness where once there used to be Yami. If Yugi wants to talk to Yami, he has to use his voice, translate his thoughts and feelings into words. When Yami is elsewhere, Yugi can't talk to him at all. It's this distance, Yugi thinks, that makes the biggest difference.
Before, he could be certain of Yami being there. Before, he knew that Yami belonged to him, as much as Yugi belonged to Yami, because nothing else was conceivable. Before, he felt secure enough to set Yami up for a sort-of date with Anzu, because he genuinely liked Anzu (and still does like her) and wanted to make her happy, even if, of course, she and Yami could never have the kind of bond he and Yami had. Anzu seems to prefer Yugi's company to Yami's nowadays, although Yugi wonders at her reasons sometimes. Maybe Anzu simply doesn't want to come in between him and Yami; maybe she's only being kind and selfless and putting another person's happiness before her own.
If this had been about anyone other than Yami, Yugi would have asked her, would have wanted to know her feelings for sure, but since this /is/ about Yami, he keeps quiet and pretends he doesn't notice.
Perhaps it's not so much Yami's realness that he doubts (although he dreams about waking up and discovering that Yami's gone and none of it was real - that he's never solved the Puzzle, or saved the world, or become the King of Games) as Yami's love for him (unspoken and undoubted when they shared a soul, unspoken and uncertain at present, when they've turned into two separate people).
Yami can kiss and touch and hold him. Yami does do those things (so possibly, Yugi is simply being clingy and selfish and worrying too much about silly things) but sometimes, also, they argue, or disagree, or fail to understand each other, and Yugi can't just say 'here, this is how I feel' anymore. He can only try to find the right words, watching Yami stare at him impassively, wondering but no longer knowing what Yami's thinking.
(It occurs to him, on a dark but not particularly stormy night, that this might be the way most people experience being in love. Most people never get to have someone living in their head, understanding everything about them without the need to use words to explain.)
Author: misura
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Yugi thinks he might have discovered what it means to be in love.
Until Yami gets a body of his own, Yugi never worries about his being real.
There is, Yugi knows, something illogical in this, something that makes him reluctant to confess his fears to Jounouchi or Honda, or even to Anzu, who is far too kind to ever make fun of someone's fears, no matter how silly or irrational they might be.
Still, it used to be that all Yugi needed to do was to concentrate a little, to reach out with his mind and to touch that other part of himself, his second self, the one now known as Yami. He knew (even then, especially then) that if he'd tell other people about Yami, they might not believe him or consider him crazy, but Yugi himself never felt any doubt at all about Yami's existence. Yami was there, after all, living in his head, and Yugi'd never have to be alone again.
Now, there's only emptiness where once there used to be Yami. If Yugi wants to talk to Yami, he has to use his voice, translate his thoughts and feelings into words. When Yami is elsewhere, Yugi can't talk to him at all. It's this distance, Yugi thinks, that makes the biggest difference.
Before, he could be certain of Yami being there. Before, he knew that Yami belonged to him, as much as Yugi belonged to Yami, because nothing else was conceivable. Before, he felt secure enough to set Yami up for a sort-of date with Anzu, because he genuinely liked Anzu (and still does like her) and wanted to make her happy, even if, of course, she and Yami could never have the kind of bond he and Yami had. Anzu seems to prefer Yugi's company to Yami's nowadays, although Yugi wonders at her reasons sometimes. Maybe Anzu simply doesn't want to come in between him and Yami; maybe she's only being kind and selfless and putting another person's happiness before her own.
If this had been about anyone other than Yami, Yugi would have asked her, would have wanted to know her feelings for sure, but since this /is/ about Yami, he keeps quiet and pretends he doesn't notice.
Perhaps it's not so much Yami's realness that he doubts (although he dreams about waking up and discovering that Yami's gone and none of it was real - that he's never solved the Puzzle, or saved the world, or become the King of Games) as Yami's love for him (unspoken and undoubted when they shared a soul, unspoken and uncertain at present, when they've turned into two separate people).
Yami can kiss and touch and hold him. Yami does do those things (so possibly, Yugi is simply being clingy and selfish and worrying too much about silly things) but sometimes, also, they argue, or disagree, or fail to understand each other, and Yugi can't just say 'here, this is how I feel' anymore. He can only try to find the right words, watching Yami stare at him impassively, wondering but no longer knowing what Yami's thinking.
(It occurs to him, on a dark but not particularly stormy night, that this might be the way most people experience being in love. Most people never get to have someone living in their head, understanding everything about them without the need to use words to explain.)