Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ What I Deserve ❯ What I Deserve ( One-Shot )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Disclaimer: To the best of my knowledge, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

A/N: Yami's been deeply in the mood for angst lately [as was somewhat apparent from "Nothing Left"] and so I decided to write another suicide fic! I know, I know, I should be working on Lighthouse, but I just had to write this! I think you'll figure out who it is pretty early on...so, here it is! ~Yami

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I clench my jaw as pain washes over me. Of course, I've dealt with plenty of pain before, so that decreases the overall shock of the anguish that my body is going through.

Blood flows from dozens of cuts all over my body. I can't help but smirk at my work. I admit, I never thought that I would use my rather sadistic knowledge of inflicting pain on myself. But I can't say that I don't deserve the agony I'm putting myself through.

I know that I've hurt a lot of people. And most of them, I really couldn't care less about. But there is one person that I know I have hurt, more times than he ever deserved.

How he could stand it is still a mystery to me. His nature is one of a person that never should have gone through any of what I did to him. He was the subject of so much abuse, and yet, he always forgave me afterward.

Forgiveness, or rather, his forgiving me, is a concept that I just could not grasp. Perhaps that is part of the reason that I hurt him so. Maybe I wanted him to see that he couldn't always forgive everyone, that some people never change. But he always forgave anyway. And in the end, it did change me. I know it did, because never before had I ever cared about anyone the way I care about him.

I have never had anyone that cared about me the way he did. I pushed everyone away, and yet these same actions only seemed to draw him closer. It was almost as if he understood the basis of my actions.

If anyone did understand me, it would be him. Even though we are complete opposites of each other, he still knows me better than anyone else. For it is he who sees the glimpses of my past that occasionally haunt me in the midst of the night, and it is he whose sympathy I can feel.

It's hard for me to believe that someone would actually care about me. Perhaps he knows this as well, from what he has seen of my past. He can see where I have gained my mistrust from, why I will never let anyone get near enough to me to actually care.

I may be reading too far into his actions, but if I didn't know better, I would say that he cares deeply for me, more than others. Perhaps not, maybe it is only his personality that I draw this conclusion from. After all, he does seem to care about everyone. Am I really just another person that he feels obligated to care about?

This thought only seems to justify my current state. I don't deserve to have anyone, let alone someone like him, care about me. Everything that I am feeling now, the gush of blood, the lingering pain from my blade cutting through my skin, the pain embedded deep within my body as blood flows into the darkness...that is what I deserve.

Speaking of which...I glance downward. Blood leaks through my clothes, which are torn from when I first made the wounds. Taking a closer look at my clothing, I notice that it is almost impossible to determine its original color; everything is pure red.

I allow my mind to wander back to the time when I had decided to do this. Only a few days before, I had begun planning my own demise. That day holds a place in my mind, because of my own cruel actions...to him...

I was in a particularly bad mood that day. And, as always, he became the one that I vented my anger on. I hurt him, hitting him as hard as I possibly could. He simply allowed me to do what I willed, never trying to get away or stop me. And when he finally fell unconscious from the pain, I pulled back.

When I first stood back and looked at his unconscious body, I noticed the bruises that were already beginning to form all over him, and the blood that flowed from a few spots. As I took the scene before me in, my eyes widened. How could I have done this to him?

He was so sweet and innocent, even as he lay there, oblivious to his surroundings. I felt an odd sensation as I realized that I felt guilty for my actions. And before I knew it, tears were falling from my eyes.

Fortunately, I was able to recompose myself rather quickly. I lifted his limp form in my arms, and set him on the couch. Sitting on the edge next to him, I let my hands touch his face, gently running my fingers along the side.

Surprisingly enough, I stayed by his side until he woke up. But what he said then was what drove me over the edge: he told me that he forgave me. He forgave me. Again.

At that moment, I knew that I had to end it. I couldn't put him through any more pain. He had forgiven the unforgivable, so many times over. Shaking my head, pulling myself from the memory, I wonder how he could possibly...

My thoughts are cut short as I notice that my breathing has become more shallow. From all my experience in this field, I know that my time is short. And even in the last few moments of my life, my every thought turns to him.

Shifting my position on the floor slightly, I stare up to the ceiling. I have been laying here ever since the final cut had been made, running deep across my chest. Silently I make one final wish: that my death will bring about his happiness.

I chose this day for a reason: I knew that he wouldn't be here. I didn't want him to see this, I didn't want him to know. I have never made my feelings known to him, and didn't see any reason to start now.

Drifting closer and closer to my fate, I begin to relax. The pain is subsiding, replacing itself slowly with the iciness of death. But before I can fully welcome the event, I hear the soft sound of footsteps, racing towards me. Turning my head slightly towards the door, my eyes widen as he pushes the door open, panting heavily. But wait, he's supposed to be...how could have possibly known to come now?

He approaches me, and I can see the fear in his wide eyes. He shakes his head, unable to believe what he is seeing. Kneeling at my side, he looks at my blood-covered clothes. Trembling slightly, he shakes his head again, almost as if he were trying to convince himself that this isn't really happening.

Summoning the last of my strength, I ask him one final question: I ask him how he could possibly forgive me for all of the terrible things that I had done to him. His eyes close slightly as they brim with unshed tears, and he lays a hand in mine.

"I love you..." he whispers, as my eyes fall closed. Drawing in a final breath, I contemplate what he just said. He loves me. And I love him. I love him enough to end his sufferings once and for all.

Ryou sobbed as the hand fell limp in his, and all of his tears fell on the body of the one he had cared about most: his Yami.

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Yami Bakura: Why are you torturing me? I thought you were writing angst for the Pharaoh. And this seemed to be a lot like that other one...
Yami Kaosu: That may be, but I had to do you too! Everyone needs more sympathy for you! Besides, this is what you get for taking over my muse's job!
Yami Yugi: Anyone get the feeling that there are too many Yamis here?
Chaos: Hai, way too many!
Yami Kaosu: Well, either way, R & R, onegai!
Yami Bakura: Don't listen to her. Turn around and don't review. Then she'll take this stupid story off.
Chaos: You know very well that she wouldn't do that.
Yami Bakura: One can hope, can't they?
Yami Kaosu: There is no hope. Don't pay any attention to him, he's just not used to being the object of sympathy.
Yami Bakura: *glares*
Yami Yugi: Review, just so he'll get even angrier at her...then her stories won't focus on me committing suicide...again...
Chaos: Oy...
Yami Kaosu: Hey, you do feel bad about what you did to Ryou, don't you?
Yami Bakura: *looks away* Of course not...
Chaos: That was a definite "yes."
Yami Bakura: *glares*
Yami Kaosu: I KNEW it! You enjoyed this, didn't you?
*Yami Bakura stalks away*
Yami Kaosu: HEY! Come back! You liked it, admit it! *runs after Yami Bakura*
Chaos: Well, minna, thus ends the...extremely long author's notes! And like "Nothing Left," this may be continued somewhere if people want it too!