Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Touch Not With Darkness ❯ Touch Not With Darkness ( One-Shot )

Touch Not With Darkness

By Terendel

Pairing: Yami/Yugi

Rating: PG

Timeline: Not long after the duel with Pegasus. Yugi is still uncertain about his relationship with his yami. I'm told that Yugi is 16, so that's how old he is. But you can't convince me that he's gotten very far into puberty, so allow me that bit of artistic license.

Yugi sat under a tree in the park, so lost in thought that he didn't even notice the gentle spring breeze ruffling the pages of his math book, open and forgotten beside him. His thoughts strode ground grown achingly familiar in recent days. Yami. Why had he been chosen to be inhabited by a mysterious spirit? And why did the spirit invade his thoughts at random times? Yugi might be in the middle of science when he'd suddenly remember Yami's eyes, sometimes purplish-black with mystery, sometimes crimson with intensity. Or he'd be walking home with Anzu, and he'd see a narrow-waisted, finely muscled young man walk by, and again be distracted by thoughts of his Yami.

He shook his head in frustration. He had to figure out what was going on. But who could he talk to? Who would understand?

"Yugi?" A voice by his head distracted him from his reverie.

He started and looked up. "Huh? Oh, hi Anzu. What's up?"

The girl looked pointedly at her watch. "Yugi, do you have any idea what time it is?" She glanced down at the gently ruffling math book. "And it doesn't look like you've gotten very far with your math, either."

Yugi's cheeks colored faintly. "Ah, I guess I sort of lost track of time."

Anzu frowned slightly. "Is everything okay, Yugi? You looked pretty unhappy when I came up."

Yugi shook his head. Anzu's frown changed to concern, and she sat down beside her friend, setting aside her own books. "What's wrong? Talk to me, Yugi."

Yugi looked at her, big eyes shimmering with emergent tears. "I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about Yami. I'll be in the middle of math class, and for a moment I'll see his eyes looking at me." He frowned briefly. "And there's this odd expression in them. Like maybe he's not happy about something." He paused for several seconds, trying to work out what might be upsetting his other half. Then he shook his head and continued. "And that's not all. I keep seeing people who remind me of him."

He looked at the ground, one huge tear glistening at the corner of his eye. "Why is this happening? It's driving me crazy, this constantly thinking about him."

The tears finally flowed, and Anzu scooted forward to pull Yugi's head to her shoulder. She just held him, saying nothing while he cried out his confusion.

When his choking sobs subsided into intermittent whimpers, she gently pushed him upright, just enough that she could look into his red-rimmed eyes. "Yugi, you're not going crazy. There is an explanation for what you are feeling."

The boy's face brightened slightly, and he searched her knowing expression, knowledge tinged by sadness, but still making plain her understanding. "Tell me, Anzu. I want to know. Even if it'll hurt, I still want to know. Anything would be better than what I am feeling now."

She shook her head and ran a gentle finger down his tear-streaked cheek. "If you can't see it yet, Yugi, then you're not ready to face it. Have you talked to Yami about it?"

Yugi's face flushed bright red. "No way. I'd be too embarrassed to tell him about this."

Anzu gave his cheek a final caress before gathering her books and standing up. "You might want to give it a try. He might be able to give you a clue."

And with that enigmatic statement, she left. Yugi watched her go in amazement. Talk to Yami about it? Was she crazy?

He wiped his eyes and face, somewhat embarrassed to have cried on her shoulder, but feeling better now. He eyed his math book and sighed. Maybe he'd be able to finish his homework at home.

Yugi hurried through dinner, not in the mood to talk to his grandpa. He felt the older Mutoh's eyes on him, but Yugi kept his attention fixed on his rice. His grandpa had always been good about sensing his moods and leaving him alone when he needed it. Tonight was no exception.

Food bolted down, Yugi tossed his dishes in the sink with a clatter and muttered comment about homework. Then he fled to the isolation of his room.

He sat down at his desk and tried to focus on his math problems. But intense and somehow distressed crimson eyes haunted both the pages in front of him and his whirling thoughts. He closed his eyes and put his head down on his hands. Maybe trying to relax for a moment would bring relief.

Instead it brought the merciful oblivion of slumber.

The sleeping form of Yugi sprawled on the floor of his soul room, one arm holding a stuffed puppy. Numerous toys surrounded him, seeming to press close to guard his sleep.

Some of the toys spilled out of the open door and into the hallway beyond. A small stuffed bear appeared to be looking across the hallway. Was it trying to see into the room beyond?

Directly opposite Yugi's open doorway was a door, slightly ajar. Unlike Yugi's room, which was lit from within, no light shone through the crack between door and jamb.

The bear's sightless eyes continued to watch as a shadow stirred in the darkness and entered the hallway.

Yami watched his aibou sleep, frowning slightly as he noticed the tell-tale signs of distress: a furrow between the boy's eyes, one small fist clenching the stuffed dog's leg, a tightness around his mouth. Ordinarily, signs of distress in his aibou would enrage the spirit and cause him to lash out at whomever, or whatever, was bothering the boy. But against this, the spirit was powerless.

He stepped into the room and slid down the wall, unconsciously taking up a guardian's position less than an arm's length away from the sleeping boy. Yami leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, sighing deeply. How could he protect his aibou when the source of trouble was his Yami himself? For Yami, with the twin advantages of age and experience, recognized the problem. He gave a rueful grin. He hardly needed the age and experience. For he had the same problem.

Yami and Yugi were slowly, inexorably, falling in love with each other.

Oh, he recognized the signs easily enough, even though he dimly sensed he had never loved another like this before. A violent shake of his head. Curse his unreliable memory! Experience and sensation were his. He could draw flawless diagrams of a chariot or plan a successful campaign of martial conquest. He could even remember the sweetness of lying between the legs of a willing whore. But he could not remember a single actual event, and he had only the dimmest recollections of real people. He was certain he had never loved another, though he had made love often enough-his appetites had been legendary in his time.

And though he could remember no specific acts of evil, he knew he had not been a good man as Pharaoh. He had reveled in darkness in those days, and he sensed the taint still clung to him today.

Which was why he did not speak to his aibou of his stirring feelings. His hikari was too good. Too pure. It would be wrong to touch him with darkness.

Even Yami, for all his age and experience, had no knowledge of light so strong that it could not be tainted by darkness. Of a light so powerful that it could actually brighten the deepest gloom.

Again he shook his head, more slowly this time. Enough of him. Enough of his feelings. He opened his eyes and filled his sight with the vision of his aibou, his love. He knew all too well how remembered eyes could torment waking dreams. Though it was not merely eyes that tortured him so. For Yami, it was also a wide mouth, with soft lips just begging to be kissed. And small arms that he wanted to lose himself in forever.

Again the violent shake of his head. No! How could he even be thinking such things? He could not be trusted. He would have let Kaiba die to satisfy his overwhelming desire to triumph. How could he ever be certain he would never slip like that again? Yami forced himself to face the truth. He could never be sure. The taint was there, lessened from his mortal days, but far from gone. It would be better for Yugi to stay as far from him as possible. Lock himself away in his soul room and only come out when the choice was between inaction and danger to his aibou.

A firm nod. Yes, that was what should be done. Resolutely ignoring the tears spilling down his cheeks, Yami leaned forward and ran a feather-light caress down the soft cheek of his aibou.

Firmly denying the almost-overwhelming desire to gather his aibou close, Yami stood up and walked back to his soul room without a backward glance.

But he did leave the door slightly ajar.

Groggily, Yugi woke up. He glanced around in confusion. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was sitting at his desk, trying in vain to keep his eyes open. And now he was here.

He sat up and suddenly realized where he was. His soul room. And there was something else. His eyes darted to the door. Without knowing how he knew, he sensed that his Yami had just left. But why had he been here? Without realizing it, he gently set aside the dog he had been clutching in his sleep and staggered to his feet.

He stumbled to the doorway and leaned there for a moment, backlit by the soft glow behind him, trying to focus his muzzy thoughts. Finally he felt steady enough to walk across to the door, hanging barely ajar.

No light shone in the crack between door and frame. Yugi raised his hand to knock but paused before completing the action. Yami had been in his room and had not awakened him. Maybe his Yami didn't want to see him anymore.

That thought stabbed his heart and gave him the courage to knock and say, "Yami? May I come in?"

A quiet "Yes" from the darkness.

Yugi hesitantly pushed open the door. It felt heavy, and he imagined that it was resisting his efforts. Finally it yielded, and he stepped into the gloom. He blinked, trying to adjust to the dim light barely reaching across the hall from his room. Before his eyes adapted, he thought he saw a glowing eye hanging in mid-air. But it vanished too quickly for him to be certain.

Yami strode forward from the shadows, his voice as confident as ever. "What brings you here, aibou?"

Whatever Yugi had planned to say vanished from his mind when he saw Yami's eyes. They held the same expression as the eyes that had haunted his thoughts. Only now he recognized the emotions skittering across the crimson orbs in front of him. Fear. Determination. And another that Yugi was too young to recognize but which sent a tingle throughout his body, as though something sleeping inside him struggled to awaken early.

He ran forward and hurled himself into Yami's arms. "What is wrong, Yami? What are you afraid of?"

Yami had known when Yugi awakened and had suspected his aibou would cross the hall. He had used the time wisely, schooling his features and commanding rigid control of his voice.

But he had no power over his eyes.

When Yugi slammed into him, he grunted and stepped back farther into his room. His arms instinctively enfolded his aibou and held him close. Never would he let his Yugi fall.

But the question left him speechless. Afraid? Him? Before today he would have insisted that he barely knew the meaning of the word. But as he gazed down into the anxious eyes in front of him, he had to face the truth. He was afraid. Afraid of the darkness inside him. However, as the truth slammed into him with righteous force, he had to face another, larger fear. That Yugi would never love him if he knew of the taint that crawled within him.

But how to explain to his aibou? And he had to explain. The longer his stunned silence stretched on, the more desperate the lavender eyes that searched his own became.

Taking a deep breath released the paralysis holding him hostage. He gently loosened Yugi's strangling hold and lowered both of them to the floor until they were sitting opposite each other, still touching, knees and hands. He firmly suppressed the desire to take his aibou back into his arms.

That done, he tried to put words to his emotions. "Aibou, I don't quite know how to explain." Not much of a start, but it was the best he could do.

Yugi took a deep breath, the struggle to control his own emotions plain on his face. A small, brave smile crossed his lips. "Well, the last time I said that to my grandpa, he told me to begin at the beginning."

A slow chuckle. "That wouldn't have been the time that you and Jou knocked down the entire display of magazines, would it?"

Red crept up Yugi's face. "Of course. Not that I could very well tell grandpa I'd stumbled into Jou because you had just surprised me with some comment about wishing they were all porn! I didn't even know you knew about that."

Yami felt his lips curl in the smile he saved for his aibou. "Well, where do you think Egyptian boys learned how to make more little Egyptians?" As the flush deepened on Yugi's face, Yami really listened to what he had just said. Oh yes, that was going to take the conversation where he wanted it to go. Whatever happened to keeping the boy pure?

Yugi laughed through his blush before turning serious. "Well that may be, but it still doesn't explain why you're afraid."

A sigh. "You're right, it doesn't." Begin at the beginning. That sounded much easier than it really was.

Small hands engulfed his in warmth. "It's okay. You are a part of me. You can tell me anything."

Nice sentiment, but Yami wasn't about to mention his sudden desire to pull his aibou into his lap and kiss him thoroughly. So he settled for, "Hikari, I don't think you know how much I am tainted by darkness. I am afraid that if you spend too much time with me your light will be dimmed, and I could never live with that." There. He'd said it. And he waited for the rejection he knew would follow.

Instead the small hands tightened on his own. "But Yami, I already knew that. I was with you when you almost let Kaiba die, but..."

The spirit cut him off before he could finish the thought. "Exactly. And I can't trust myself to not do it again. That's why I think it's better that we have as little to do with each other as possible. Then there's no chance of something like that happening again."

As he spoke, he picked up his aibou and carried him to the door of the soul room. Ruthlessly, he ignored how good it felt to hold the small boy in his arms.

He set Yugi down in the hallway.

"But, Yami," the boy began.

Yami shut the door on the protest.

Yugi was left standing outside the door. It was closed completely, but he didn't hear the lock engage. That was enough to leave him some faint hope, but he knew there was no use trying again tonight. Tears running unheeded down his face, he fled to his soul room and threw himself down on the floor. He grabbed the stuffed puppy, holding it close to his chest as he silently cried himself to sleep.

When he woke the next morning, he was out of the soul room and back in his bed. But he remembered everything that had happened the night before. His heart felt heavy. He was coming to realize what he felt for the spirit. And now it looked like his Yami didn't want him anymore. What was he to do now?

Suddenly he remembered the unfinished math homework, and he groaned as he climbed out of bed and forced himself to walk to the desk. Algebra proofs were no more attractive early in the morning than they had been late at night. However, they did distract him from his heartache.

It was a near thing, finishing his homework, grabbing a quick shower and breakfast and then running to school. Anzu eyed him oddly as he came panting up the sidewalk.

"Running late, Yugi?"

He paused to get his breath back before answering. "Yeah, I fell asleep over my homework, and I had to finish it this morning."

She must have caught something odd in his tone because she cocked her head and asked, "Did you talk things over with Yami last night?"

Yugi ducked his head, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "Not exactly," he mumbled.

She frowned. "I didn't catch that."

He forced his head up. "We talked, but nothing made sense. I don't want to talk about it now, Anzu, okay?"

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he had to fight back tears at the offered sympathy. "It'll work out okay, Yugi. I know it will."

He nodded stiffly. "Thanks, Anzu. I sure hope so." And with that he resolutely walked into school.

The rest of the day was sheer misery on top of torture. Yugi couldn't concentrate on anything. Jou asked to play Duel Monsters at lunch, and Yugi jumped at it, hoping for distraction. But every card he played reminded him of Yami, and eventually, he lost.

Jou seemed to understand that it wasn't a win to gloat about, and he just quietly gathered up his cards after Yugi's life points dropped to zero. The taller boy walked away, muttering something about how it hadn't really counted anyway.

Yugi felt eyes on him, and he turned to see Anzu's warm gaze on his back. He knew what she was offering, but he shook his head. No, he couldn't share this with anyone.

After school, he hurried out of the building and practically sprinted to the game shop. His grandpa looked up in surprise as Yugi threw open the door and ran into the back.

"Yugi..." he tried to say, but the boy was moving too fast.

He only emerged from his room long enough to eat dinner, and he firmly pushed aside any attempt at conversation. Again tossing his dishes in the sink, he fled to the safety of his room.

His homework occupied the rest of the evening, but he could barely remember any of it after he was finished. He got ready for bed and climbed into cold sheets, crying himself to sleep yet again.

He woke briefly in his soul room, snuggled up to the stuffed puppy. He glanced out the open doorway, knowing what he'd see but hoping anyway.

The door was still closed. He stood up and walked over, needing to try. Needing to know. And discovering that this time it was locked.

Three days passed in a haze of misery and heartache. Even the end of the week couldn't lift Yugi's spirits. In fact, it made it worse. School at least provided some distraction. Time at home was the last thing he wanted right now.

He shuffled out of the school, too worn down to run. Anzu caught him at the bottom of the stairs. "Yugi!"

He slowly turned, eyes barely lifting. "Not now, Anzu. I just need to get home."

She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the school yard. Plopping him down on a swing, she confronted him, arms on her hips, eyes flashing. "Yugi Mutoh, this is enough! I'm worried about you. Jou is convinced that some bully is the problem, and he's ready to kick some butt. Even your grandpa was worried enough to stop by my house last night to see if I knew anything."

"What did you tell him?" Yugi's voice was muted, as if he didn't really care about the answer. As if he didn't really care about anything.

Anzu knelt down so her face was level with his. She put her hand under his chin and forced it up. Forced him to look at her. "I told him the truth. I told him I didn't know. And it is true. I don't know what's wrong. I just know that it has something to do with you and your feelings for Yami. And it's got to have something to do with his feelings for you."

Yugi's arms reached out, and he collapsed into Anzu's arms. She stiffened and caught him before they both tumbled to the ground. As he fell, he cried out, "He doesn't want me anymore." And he began to cry so hard his whole body shook with the force of his sobs. His previous cry in her arms had been nothing like this. Then he had only been confused. Now he knew what he felt. He loved his Yami, but the spirit didn't love him back. That he could almost have borne. But to never, ever see him again? That was more than even Yugi's young heart could handle.

Once his tears slowed, he found enough emotional control to tell Anzu what had happened. He couldn't keep it inside anymore. He needed to tell someone, to let it out before it festered within him.

She listened to the entire story, not saying anything until he finished. When the tumble of words slowed, he looked at her, hoping that she had some words of wisdom. Some plan to get his Yami back. Instead, she slowly shook her head. "I don't know, Yugi. This sounds bad. But..." She paused, obviously lost in thought.

"What, Anzu?" He asked mechanically, not really expecting anything that would help.

She frowned. "Well, it sounds to me like he does have strong feelings for you. He's always been there for you, to protect you. I can't imagine that has changed." Her eyes brightened. "Yugi! I think that he does love you. That's why he locked you out."

His head came up slowly. It almost made sense. There was that other emotion that had been in Yami's eyes. Fear. Determination. And something else. Yugi wasn't sure. It wasn't something he'd exactly had a lot of experience with, but maybe, just maybe that other emotion was...desire. And if Yami did love him as much as he feared the darkness inside himself, then perhaps it all fit together.

He nodded slowly. "I think you may have something there. But what do I do? He's locked the door. I can't get in."

Anzu turned her head away, thinking hard. "That is a problem, but, Yugi, does Yami know what you are feeling?"

"I think so." His voice firmed. "He must. How else could he know when I need him?"

Anzu's voice rang with conviction. "Then park yourself right outside that door and focus everything you are feeling right at him. If he does feel anything at all for you, he'll have to come out."

Yugi frowned. It seemed like a long shot, but right now anything was worth a try. He stood up and brushed himself off. "I'll try it. Anything has got to be better than what I'm going through now."

He grabbed his bookbag and strode off with more life than had been in his step in days. Faintly, he could hear Anzu's voice behind him. "Good luck, Yugi."

Yami brooded in his soul room. He knew his actions were correct. Yugi was much safer with his spirit locked away. That left no way his taint could touch his aibou. But if his actions were correct, why were both of them miserable?

Yami was keenly aware of his aibou's distress. He could feel it pulsing down the link they shared. Even when Yugi was asleep, there was faint distress trickling into him. But when the boy was awake... Then the agony coursed into the spirit with the force of a hurricane. It was all he could do to maintain tenuous control over his resolve.

He didn't know how much longer he could hold out. But he gritted his teeth and held on. He had to. For his aibou. Yami glanced at the closed door. He could almost see the open door on the other side of the hallway. The room that contained the other half of his soul. His soul mate.

His thoughts skittered. Well, what else were they, really? Soul neighbors? A rueful grin. Not hardly. Two halves of the same soul joined in one body. Cruel irony that the darkness within him kept them apart. He shook his head and clenched his fists at the steady ache flowing down the link. Not fair at all that, having just discovered his soul mate, he was forced to deny the bond.

The ache changed to sharp agony. Yami almost doubled over from the pain. A sudden thought. If he was feeling this from Yugi, what must Yugi be feeling from him?

He stood up, paced the confines of his soul room. Stopped by the door, leaning his head against the wall. It. Was. Not. Fair. Yami pounded his fist against the door, trying to drown out the emotional pain from his aibou with physical pain, but nothing worked. Nothing dulled the shared torment.

He couldn't stand it any more. Separation was the only way. But he was weak enough to want one last glimpse of his aibou before locking himself away forever. Hating himself, cursing himself for his weakness, he reached out and opened the door.

A small form launched himself into his arms, knocking him back into the room. And Yami knew himself lost forever. His arms went around his aibou, and he held on tightly as Yugi wrapped his arms around his waist, holding on as if he would never, ever let go again.

And Yami had to admit that he never wanted to be apart again. Holding Yugi in his arms was a sweetness that almost, but not quite, bordered on pain. All was well with the world when he was with his aibou. Suddenly, he couldn't imagine how he had held out for so many days.

He lost himself in the feel of Yugi, the scent of Yugi, the warmth of Yugi, everything that there was about Yugi. He buried his face in the softness of two-toned hair, ran his hands up and down the small back. Distantly he could hear strangled crying. With a start, he realized it was himself.

A small voice, muffled in his chest. "Why, Yami? Why did you shut me out?"

Yami winced at the pain in his aibou's voice. Why indeed? Why had he done this to both of them? And yet, somehow, he needed to explain, needed to convince Yugi that there was danger here. Even though he could never let his hikari go again, there was danger.

Letting go briefly with one hand--even that was difficult for him--he waved behind him to create a couch in the gloom. If he was going to explain, they might as well be comfortable. He'd had enough of sitting on the cold, stone floor.

He carried Yugi to the couch. The boy had wrapped not only his arms, but both legs around the spirit, making it plain that he wasn't letting go anytime soon. Yami absently noted that he wouldn't be able to do this if Yugi grew any larger, but for right now, it was nice to hold him so completely.

With some difficulty, he settled both of them on the couch. Yugi's eyes widened as he saw the addition of furniture. He pulled back just enough to ask. "How'd you do that?"

Yami shrugged. "It's my soul room. I can do whatever I want with it."

Yugi leaned his head back into Yami's chest, eyes still looking upwards. The spirit lost himself briefly in amethyst depths. Then the boy asked, "Well, how about a bit more light? It's pretty gloomy in here."

Yami felt a chuckle try to stir in his chest, the first one in days. "Anything for my aibou." He surprised himself by the deep huskiness in his voice. Yugi shivered, apparently affected by it as well.

He concentrated for a moment, and the gloom lifted slightly. Yugi glanced around. "Well, that's better, but hardly what I'd call light."

Yami sighed. That was as good an intro as he was likely to get. "Aibou, that's part of the problem. The darkness is why I shut you out. You don't know what I was like as a mortal."

Yugi frowned. "Neither do you. You once told me that you remember very little of your mortal life."

Nodding, Yami said, "True, but I remember impressions, and I know I did some terrible things as Pharaoh."

Yugi's face screwed up in an expression of contemplation that Yami always found adorable. He resisted the urge to plant a kiss right on the bridge of the boy's nose. Instead, he waited patiently, though not able to resist running a gentle hand through soft hair.

Finally, the boy said, "Someone once told me that it's only sane people who worry about their sanity. I think that might mean that your worry about being evil probably means you aren't evil. After all, if you were truly evil, I doubt you'd be so worried about it."

Yami had to admit that the logic, while convoluted, did make sense. "But what about the things I did? If I did them once, what's to stop me from doing them again?"

Yugi had a ready answer for that one. "Your worry about the harm you might cause others."

Yami's eyes widened. He'd truly never thought about that. He had not realized that at some point he'd developed a conscience. He was not the same spirit who at one time casually mind crushed his defeated opponents. He clutched his aibou more closely, knowing it was his influence that had changed him.

Yugi smiled, obviously enjoying the hug. "But that's not all. Are you certain the things you did as Pharaoh were evil, or were you just making the kinds of hard decisions rulers have to make?"

Frowning, Yami said, "I'm not sure I'm following you."

Yugi settled himself more comfortably against his other half's chest. "Well, sometimes rulers have to make decisions that are good for many, but might not be so good for the few. Sacrificing a few people to save many. Arranging an unwanted marriage because it has the right political outcome. You might be remembering that sort of thing."

"Perhaps," Yami answered uncertainly. He'd so thoroughly convinced himself of his unredeemable taint that he was having a hard time changing gears and accepting that there was enough good in him to counteract his darkness.

His aibou smiled and laid a gentle hand on Yami's cheek. The spirit closed his eyes at the caress. "I love you, Yami. It took me a while to realize it, but I do. And I don't think I'd be able to love you if you were truly evil."

Yami didn't know what to say. His aibou loved him. He'd suspected, but there was a big difference between suspecting and hearing it. He searched the lavender eyes of the boy nestled trustingly against him. Pure love shone back at him. Dare he believe this was happening? Yami said, "I don't think anyone's ever loved me before."

Gentle eyes smiled back at him. "That's too bad. There's plenty there to love."

Yami could resist no longer and leaned down to capture sweet lips. His senses were awhirl. His aibou tasted of everything that was good in the world. Soft lips opened under his, hesitant, uncertain. Yami gently nibbled, darting his tongue briefly into warm depths. Yugi gasped and pressed closer, small arms tightly encircling the spirit.

Yami moaned in pure pleasure at the closeness. The link between them opened wide, and he could feel love pulsing back and forth.

Finally, he pulled back and gazed deeply into the eyes of his hikari. "I love you too, aibou."

Yugi smiled his sweet smile. "No more locked soul room doors?"

Yami shook his head firmly. "No. No more." Suddenly shy. "I'm yours as long as you'll have me."

Yugi touched first the puzzle around his neck and then the twin gracing his spirit's. His voice solemn, he said. "May that be forever." Then he shrugged, and his eyes twinkled. "Or, failing that, at least an awfully long time."

Yami chuckled and pulled his aibou close.

Behind them, the gloom lifted a bit more, this time without any effort by the ancient spirit.

Fin