Instantaneous Realization

Written by:

PetPetAngel

Note: The text in this piece for the final battle is based on subs I found from the original Japanese version. The subs were poor in quality and somewhat garbled, so I took very minor artistic license for cleaning up some of the statements, but all original meaning is kept. Video can be seen here if one removes the spaces and adds a second slash after the http (the site won't keep it for some reason): http : / www . youtube . com / watch?v KzKb890cFuc No copyright infringement intended, Yami, Yuugi, and Anzu are sole property of Kazuki Takahashi.

In that one instant, she realizes that he was never hers for the taking.

The light from the final blast subsides and the Nameless Pharaoh is standing there, proud as always, face serious, but in that one instant when he smiles and begins to walk towards Yuugi, she realizes that he was never hers for the taking.

As Yuugi cries softly, his tears staining the stone floor beneath him, she wants to cry with him, but knows well his pain is much worse than hers. Just as the other Yuugi's heart had been crushed when Yuugi's soul was taken by the Seal of the Orichalcos, Anzu knows that Yuugi's heart is equally crushed. Inside, he is dying.

“I lost, aibou.”

Aibou. Partner. That was what Yami had always called Yuugi. That was Yuugi's name to the other; he had never known him as anything but.

Everything the spirit of the Sennen Puzzle won't say in front of them is conveyed in that one word, and although it breaks her heart, the Pharaoh's voice washes over them and she knows that they're all listening intently, wanting to commit it to memory, but Yuugi isn't. Yuugi is hearing but not listening, just shaking as tears pour down his cheeks.

And when the spirit–ex-spirit, rather–reaches Yuugi and kneels beside him, she realizes that Yuugi, bright, shy, optimistic Yuugi had stolen the Pharaoh's heart from the beginning. It was he that the Nameless Pharaoh had always protected, he that the spirit has looked over. She never really stood a chance; it wasn't her battle to fight because his heart had already been won over, and in that one instant, she realizes that he was never hers for the taking.

“Stand up,” he speaks lovingly, but with an authorative tone of voice that sounds like a true ruler of people. “How can a victor celebrate when he is on his knees? If I were you, I wouldn't cry.”

But it seems to be all Yuugi can do. The spirit's voice is smooth like velvet, like an afternoon in a summery field, warm like Ra's sun, but Yuugi is inconsolable. He replies, his voice trembling much like the rest of him, “I am a coward.”

Her heart pounds elaborately in her ears, waiting for the Pharaoh's response, but none comes as Yuugi continues.

“I always wanted to be like you, to be strong like you,” he whispered fiercely, tears still flowing endlessly down his face. Anzu thinks that there is probably a lot more Yuugi would like to say, words that he can't quite force past his quivering lips, words that he wants to speak although they don't need to be spoken, the spirit already knows.

She is where he is, she wants to speak as well, just to say something, to say 'I love you' to the mysterious spirit that had captured her heart, but all she can do is watch their encounter continue, watch a friendship–and perhaps more–end before her eyes.

“You are not a coward,” the Pharaoh assures Yuugi and she can tell he really means it. “You are strong! You have the strength of tenderness! This is what I learned from you, aibou.” Yuugi looks up at the him and the Sennen Puzzle spirit grips at Yugi's shoulders, forcing the boy to look at him. He goes on, “The courage to never back down inspired me and lead me down a righteous path.”

“Mou hitori no boku,” Yuugi mumbles helplessly, as if it's the only thing he can think to say. Anzu thinks that he's not listening again, just hearing words, seeing the Pharaoh's mouth move but not comprehending what he's saying.

Her heart is aching, because when Yuugi calls the other him 'the other me', it is like fate sealed in stone–they were always meant to be together–and in that one instant she realizes that the spirit was never hers for the taking.

“I am no longer the other you,” the other says softly but firmly, and Yuugi accepts it like a slap to the face, flinching, quaking even harder, as if the words horrify him. Anzu thinks that they probably do–Yuugi needs the spirit's confidence, the spirit himself, as they complete each other–what will he do without him? What will she do without him?

Although she knows that Yuugi suffers the worst pain, she can't help but think that she was as close to the spirit as Yuugi ever was, but she knows it's not true. It was never true because Yuugi was the only one the spirit ever looked at and honestly saw.

“You are no one else but yourself, you're Yugi Muto, and there's no one in the world like you.”

And in that one instant when Yuugi looks up and nods like he actually believes the ex-king of Egypt standing before him, she realizes that he was never hers for the taking.