Everyone has darkness inside them. You can't deny it. Everyone wants, at some point, to kill, to maim, to destroy. Some more often then others. Some take joy in giving others pain. The scars I wear are testiment to that.
He says he does it for my own good. That the beatings will make a man out of me. Sometimes I half believe him. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes, I wish he'd just kill me. But both of us know he can't. Without me, it is impossible for him to exist.
And so he beats me, tortures me, as much as he can. He'll lick the blood off my arms and neck, and I'm powerless to stop him. In a weird sort of way, I don't want to stop him. The pain tells me that I'm real, that I'm still here, for another year or day or hour.
Not that anyone would ever notice if I was gone. No one pays attention to quiet little me, and I like it that way. He once told me that any friends I had would be in danger of his wrath as well. So I stopped hanging around with them. I can see by the way their eyes don't recognise me that they've forgotten all about the quiet little white-haired boy who tried to steal their souls. Even though that wasn't really me.
But even though he is my dark, I'm not really very light. He calls me hikari, although half the time in sarcastic jest. But I'm not. Not really. No true light would put up with the things I do. Some of the things I even help him with. Stealing. Cheating. Gambling. Killing. The two of us have done it all.
Yes, it's true. I've killed, and so has he. There's blood on our hands, and no denying it. Why did no one wonder when Yugi Moto never came back to school? When Malik Ishtar disappeared? When Shaadi dropped out of view?
Hai, we have all seven. But somehow, it does not hold as much luster for us, me and him, anymore. Now there is no challenge. We could overthrow the government, take over the world, but what would the point to it be? He's done what he wanted. He's gotten his revenge. And I-
I have no purpose anymore. My hands are scarred and stained red. But it does not matter, not anymore.
We have triumphed. But tell me, is there life after victory?"
The principal and guidance councellor stared at each other for a long moment, and then turned to the young man who had written the essay that the councellor held. He was sitting in a hard plastic chair, his elbows on his knees. His shoulders were slumped forward, his face hidden by his thick white bangs. The rest of his hair was tied into a long pony-tail. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and, indeed, long, deep scars crossed his arms in many places. Around his neck hung a round pendant and a smaller one that was almost like a choker. A gold dagger-like thing was stuck through the back of his belt.
"Wh-who is this 'he' you keep talking about?" the principal asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice. Yugi and Malik had disappeared at around the same time, it was true. And while they'd never heard of this Shaadi guy...
When the boy raised his head, his hair fell across his left eye, blocking it from view. The two men had to look away from his gaze, because it was almost as if two souls were staring back. One hand came up to fiddle with the necklaces, and his lips pulled back into a sinister grin as he spoke, his other hand reaching behind to pull out the dagger.
WSJ: O.o;; I don't own YGO, I promise. This was inspired by the great works of Kage NoTenshi. GO READ HER STUFF! I order you!!!