Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Faces of Darkness ❯ Faces of Darkness ( Chapter 1 )

Faces of Darkness

 

 

The air was fresh and clean from the rain and the sun was shyly snooping from behind the clouds, its golden rays run across streets, rooftops and into rooms. Like a pair of mischievous children out to play, they went everywhere they could- thirsty for the world and wanting to explore its wonders. Finally, they reached a room, filled by the clear voice of a violin and accompanied by the tender notes of a grand piano. In the room a young boy was sprawled over a big, fluffy armchair. Relaxed with dazed hazel eyes. The rays of light danced to the tender music over his soft, silver-white strands.

At first, I thought that it would be just a matter of time till you're out of my mind; I had a million reasons not to think about you. And your absence from my life shouldn't have been that much of a hassle; after all, I've done it for 16 years. My mother died shortly after giving birth to my younger sister. I was just a kid then 5 or 6 years old and I got over it. But then again I don't really remember them very well, just felt their absence. With you it's different. I do not only feel the absence, I also remember you quite clearly. You made sure to imprint yourself on me and I just cannot let you go. And it's not for the fist time that I ask myself, what would it be to put that ring back on? Would you appear out of the darkness? Would you jump out of the shadows like a fairy-tale monster only to scare me and have a good laugh at my expenses, as you liked to? Would you come back to me? I laugh at that. Silly me, you never left. You are always here, always present. Be it a lingering sensation at the back of my mind, or your face smirking back at me from the mirror, you are always present. Like a puppet master watching from the dark corners of my soul where no one else has ever dared to go. Is this why I hang so much on you? Probably. You are the only person who saw me for who I am and did not judge or run away. Or maybe you did? I've lost the count of how many times you have called me a wimp, a coward, a worthless waist of material that was good only to be the vessel of an ancient spirit, a revengeful tomb-robber at that. Yet, you choose to be defeated from the Pharaoh, the sole person you declared your one enemy and swore to destroy, no matter the cost. You offered to Zork what little was left from your soul and spent 5 millennia locked in a pendant, set on fulfilling your vengeance. Yet, you choose my safety before you victory, putting me first instead of the vengeance you ache for. It's at this point that something in me cracked, as they say. My personal tormenter, yes, you were, yet that's not all there was to us, because in some strange, twisted way there was an “us” starting to be formed. But you left me before we could jump over the vessel-spirit-thing. Yugi says Marik destroyed you in a shadow game, just like his hikari's soul was suppose to, still a part of him survived in Tea and I'd like to think that a part of you survived in me, so that one day you can come back to me. Standing up Ryou went to the window where the sun was going down the horizon while its fire caressed his soft features. Some might find it strange and they would be right. After all, what kind of person longs for the return of a psychopath in their lives? Hugging his knees the boy rested his chin over them., his eyes, now filled with sorrow glazed over the white wall of the room. I was a loner before you came into my life and after that I became even lonelier because people were scared from you. The few friends I had left you imprisoned in game figures, claiming this was what they deserved. So, you did judge after all, yet you never judged me. Nasty remarks, yes but nothing more. At times I wonder why. Was I unworthy of your judgement, or were we, despite the millennial difference, that much alike that judging me would have been like judging yourself? Did you see everything you hated and despised in me? Weakness, fear, stupidity, a need for companionship. All these things that you deem as useless, “a waist of time”,” an illusion that makes you blind with idiotic acts of compaction till you stabbed in the back”. I long for all of them, no matter how deceptive they might be. But as the situation would be I don't have them. And I think you'd probably spend the week laughing if I told you I considered you my friend. A bloodthirsty demon meant to make Zork beam with pride. Still, it was that same darkness that allowed me to get close to you for I know my soul's not pure; I've never had any illusions about that. There is too much darkness in me, none of which your fault. I might look it but I'm not the perfect, innocent, little angel everyone takes me for and no one knows that better than you. Your cruel mocking eyes saw beyond the masks, the reasons behind my actions and the truth about me- scared, alone and confused and now bitter and mad. A pale hand going through even paler strands of soft hair. I wish you were here, even if only to mock this stupid drabbles of mine. It's very lonely without you. Damn! Damn! Damn! A fist slammed into the wooden cupboard, and the boy's face is mar by tears. Shivering he hugs himself tightly and slumps to the floor. Silent sobs fill the room replacing the sound of music the grief they stand for.

Damn the pharaoh and his little battle for justice, all that bullshit about saving the world and “liberating it from evil”, which you very well embody. It can all go to Hell for all I care. Good, evil, justice, peace who the fuck cares? No one can win. After 5 millennia even this self-proclaimed sage of a Pharaoh didn't see the true. Too wrapped in his idea to do well I suppose? They say men who think too much blind themselves; I guess that's true for him. Thinking that only he knows what's good and what's not, thinking that it's so easy to tell them apart and that his royal point of view is the only one, the true one. Boy, wouldn't I love to burst his perfect bubble. Because you are wrong, your majesty, so fucking wrong. Oh, how would I like to scream at you, because you both obviously need it spelled out. Good cannot concur evil; the world cannot be “liberated from it”, they will always fight, always till the end of time and even beyond. That's the way it is children, that's the way it is. But do you know what's the funny part, the great irony of all, at the end there is no good or evil, it is all just a point of view. Your father was the demented idiot, who slaughtered a whole village to create this bloody Millennial Items, which are the bane of all this suffering you are so desperately trying to prevent. At the time stopping Zork was a main priority. But does the goal justify the means? Oh, and let's not forget the cruelty you were so famous for, even at this God forsaken Atlantis they have heard of the Shadow king, who played with his subjects lives as if they were useless and meaningless. Another battle for the cattle. No wonder your cousin the High Priest of Re wanted you out of the picture. Once hi kicked you out of his bed you got that little enlighten about the true meaning of life and the tremendous need the world had for justice, your justice. And now we shall all bow down before the great saviour of the world who sacrificed his life to save us. Oh, give me a break! That little selfless act didn't made up for all the shit you caused. And when you resurfaced after 5 millennia in that blasted puzzle you were so bitter that the first thing you did was to shatter the soul of your ex-lover's reincarnation. Granted, Seto's not as innocent as a newborn baby but that was a bit harsh, it even made him worse. And when he got it right at the end you had nothing to do with, except minding your own business for once. So, who are you to judge? A God? Newsflash, dear, this is Japan, the 21-th century and not Egypt, 3000BC. And might I kindly remind you that your world is gone, only shows how good it really was. A cruel smile followed by biter laughter. I'll never tell you these things, Pharaoh. He's right I'm too scared to do it, that's where he came in; he was the strength I so desperately lack and need. So many times I have been standing on the edge, so close to falling and he would always come and pull me back, setting things straight, putting pieces back together. By no means am I justifying his actions but he wouldn't have come, devil on his shoulder, hungry for your blood, if your father hadn't massacred his village. The good of the majority is more important than that of minority you would say. A king's wais are not always clear but always right, hu? Do you honestly believe this? Oh, how modest of you, comparing your humble persona to God. Someone should take a picture of you and put it in a dictionary right next to the word “hypocrisy” for you define her very well, my nameless Pharaoh. Because Jesus might have had a point with this but you don't. What's more who is the “minority” and who the “majority”? You sacrificed people to save people, people who hated you for what you were and what you did to them. Self-imprisonment and suffering won't set the record straight. Nothing can grant you forgiveness and this is what you need and what this is all about, but you won't get it and this is s your punishment.

He might have killed one of your friends but he lost each one he ever had. Desecrated your father's richly decorated tomb- his family doesn't even have one. And do you know something dead don't won't anything, they have left this world, move on to the next if you will. What's important is us, the ones who are still here and have to go on, some way or the other. A vengeance masks our sorrow and bitterness, it makes us blind and pushes us into actions we later regret but cannot take back. Trust me on this one, I've been there and done that. Vengeance, a quest for the light or the meaning of life won't take you anywhere but to confusion and loneliness, a one-way ticket to a mad man situation. At the end you star doubting everything, questioning even the few things in your life that are solid and really mean something. It's a no way to win situation, unless you let it go. My father saw it, I saw it, Seto Kaiba saw it and I wish that one day you both could see it.

Outside the night has fallen long ago. The moon is sorrowful and phosphoric white. Brown eyes, red from crying are closing. A bell rings in the background and the white-haired boy is slowly standing up, pushing the salty, still fresh tears from his eyes he heads downstairs to open the door. His lonely figure leaves the dark room where only an ancient necklace is pulsing with light