Moving On

By Snare-chan

Pairings: Implied Yami/Bakura
Ratings: PG-13
Category(ies): General
Warning(s): Cussing
Status: One-shot, complete
Summary: Bakura thinks he's all alone and destined for an eternity of darkness, but he's dead wrong…figuratively speaking, of course.

Notes: Disappointed with the (supposed) ending of YGO, I've decided to write this fic in honor of Bakura, because I believe his treatment is completely unfair. So there.

Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh!; wish I did like everybody else. They should put YGO! in stock, then I'd buy it all!

It was dark.

Terribly dark, you see, so dark that it was endless. Nothing could match it, not a void, or a black hole, or even space itself. Every void has its bottom, every black hole leads somewhere, and space…space may be endless, but there was still a light, somewhere.

This place, this nameless unknown, was nothing as well as everything. At one time it might have been something, been anything, but not now…now it was Hell.

His Hell.

Bakura chuckled darkly, strangely finding amusement out of his predicament. He'd always thought that all of this was his soul room, his memory, but in reality it was Hell.

He'd been there all along without knowing it, and this amused him.

There were no burning flames, or demons with tiny pitchforks, or even an Amut to devour his soul. There was no devil or Lucifer in sight. Once again there were lies, even after death had taken him. In Hell there was nothing, save him, and this was the worse kind of Hell there could ever be. Or so he'd come to realize.

And look here, he was the one to suffer in it.

Idly, he mused on this as he lay on his back. Such a formidable fate for himself, he supposed, if you really looked at it. He was the darkness, and thus he should be cursed to forever be the darkness. Everyone knew it, so why would the Gods themselves not know it?

Gods…feh. He'd never really cared for them. Had he not seen with his own eyes their handiwork, he'd not even believe they existed. Then again, that all had been a lie, too, ironically. They'd always been there, mocking him, prodding him, and playing with his life.

Too bad he'd not had a judgment; he'd have liked to spit in their faces.

He chuckled at such a thought, absently turning over so that he lay on his side. Only more darkness met him, melding and twisting, always there, living and breathing. Bakura almost grew drowsy with sleep while watching it, but he knew that sleep would never claim him. He was cursed to always see this darkness, to always be in constant thought and alone.

"Are you always this gloomy?"

Bakura started, deftly moving into a crouching position faster than one could blink. He glanced around madly, his eyes shifting about in all directions to spot something, anything he might have missed. But there was nothing. There was just endless space, black and empty as it had always been.

He scowled sourly, slowly easing back into a sitting position and resting back on his hands. It would seem he was starting to hear things; next he'd hear -


Chuckling darkly, he bowed his head forward so that his chin was practically touching his chest. Oh, the irony…

"Let me guess: you're my imaginary friend?"

The footsteps, which resembled those of boots clicking against linoleum, came to a stop behind him. He didn't even bother to turn around, knowing pretty well who was there.

"I'd say you're pretty cold," the other responded casually.

"I always hated that warm and cold game."

Finally, Bakura inclined his head so that he could glance over his shoulder. Just as he'd thought…Yami, one of the many banes of his non-existence, stood there.

The white-haired man snorted, his eyelids lowering as if he were bored enough to fall asleep, and eyed the other skeptically. His mind had been preyed upon here before, and he was sure that he shouldn't be surprised that the other was haunting him here and now, of all things.

The other glanced around his surroundings curiously, appearing to take it all in and grow cold because of it. Though whether the chill that suddenly seemed to wrack him was from the cool air, or from the creepy shudder that would peak anyone's spine were they to be in this place, it was uncertain.

It was kind of peculiar how the other wasn't decked-out in his Pharaoh garb, wearing exactly what he had been before he entered the duel for his memories. It was the last thing Bakura could remember, so he would have figured that his imaginary haunter would take on the shape of the spirit as Pharaoh.

"Surprised?" Yami asked, and though he hadn't pointedly added a purr to his tone, it was there, underlying his voice.

"Not really."

The other shrugged again, indifferent, and made a motion to sit behind the other. Bakura, just as indifferent, moved so that he was sitting more cross-legged, his hands resting on his knees.

"I'd ask if you wondered why I was here, but it'd be pointless, wouldn't it?" the other spirit asked, as if speaking to Bakura had been a common thing as he sat down behind him.

"Yes, it would, because I don't care."

"I thought as-"

"Shut up!" Bakura seethed, immediately turning on the other, "Stop talking to me like you actually understand me!" Even if the other was not real, he wouldn't let it talk to him so easily, in his mind or otherwise.

"Is that how I'm coming off as, now?"

"Obviously," he spat in the Pharaoh's direction.

He sensed more than felt the other bow his head, as if in thought. His back arched against Bakura's own, the contact irritating him even more.

"How fitting…"

He was the first to break the silence, his voice causing the other to lift his head once more and lean it farther back till his hair nearly mingled with Bakura's own.

"What do you mean?"

Bakura chuckled, as if the words Yami spoke were some joke. "I can never win, even in my final passing. Haunted by darkness, haunted by you… Sometimes I swear you're glued to my back, as it were…"

"It's better than being alone, don't you think?" Yami mused in return. Yami turned his head slightly to get a better look at him, his cheek brushing over Bakura's shoulder as he only caught a glimpse of the other's ear.

"With company like you? Hardly. The deafening silence is preferable to the likes of you."

A glass-like quiet settled between them after that quick exchange. The Pharaoh said nothing, instead closing his eyes and seeming to contemplate, while Bakura simply chose silence since he had nothing more to say.

Then a sigh broke it, shattering it into pieces, as Yami seemed to come to a decision.

"Up until recently…I never could get why you were angry. I could never summarize it, give an excuse as to why you despise me so. Now…I think I understand."

"Like hell you understand," he snapped. He leaned forward as if to escape Yami's touch, but the other only moved with the motion. "Why do you do this? Talk like you're a know-it-all genius!"

"It must have been awfully lonely."

The words rang in the darkness, giving it some life before the other's voice was swallowed by it. The only sound to follow it was of Bakura's jaw clenching as his question was avoided. Yami took his silence as a cue to continue.

"Your home and people's destruction, stuck in the Ring for 3000 years, and now this… Your people have moved on, cities are now dust, and there are no familiar faces in sight..."

The thief didn't remember Yami being this cruel when they were alive, and while he continued to prattle on about just how alone Bakura really was, he wondered if this was the man he once knew.

"Except me," he finally finished, his words drifting off in the area around them once more.

"So what? I'm stuck with a person I can't stand who seems to have my life down to a science. Any reason I should be happy about this?"

A smile, the smallest of twitches, graced Yami's lips as he seemed to think about the other's question.

"You think me a hypocrite, don't you? You always have, and yet…all this time you've hunted me, and now you have me…but you do nothing. Why is that? You've sworn revenge, so why not try and take it?"

He scoffed at that, almost perplexed by the sudden question. Did the other do nothing but muse about things? However did he manage to get things accomplished in his 'lifetime'?

"Do you always ask so many questions?"

"When I do not understand things; yes."

Bakura scowled. "Why should I even bother now? My family has already moved on and so have you; what point is there in torturing a soul that's already at peace?"

"If I were at peace, would I really be here?"

He was about to reply with an unpleasant comment before he paused, truly considering the question and letting his answer sit on his tongue for a moment. It was, indeed, an intriguing inquiry, but like so many other things the Pharaoh asked, it left only more in its wake. He was starting to grow weary of analyzing things.

"Is tormenting me not part of the at-peace package?" the thief finally asked in return, continuing their pattern of answering with questions.

The other grinned, though how Bakura knew he wasn't sure. He still couldn't see the other's face since they were still sitting back-to-back.

"You would think so, wouldn't you? But no…there is unfinished business between you and I, and until it is settled, I will not truly move on."

If he wasn't interested before he certainly was now, a single pale brow rising nearly to his hairline as he tilted his head in the other's direction. This turn of events was definitely unexpected. Though he soon berated himself for letting on that the other had his attention, he still did not take his eyes off the back of the other's head.

"And exactly how do you plan on dealing with 'this', exactly? Going to say sorry and make it all better, just like that?"

"Would you accept that?"

"Don't be a dolt."

"Just remember, you're the one who suggested it," Yami pointed out calmly. "So, what do you want?"

"To defeat you." The answer was swift and to the point. He didn't even need to think about it; it was just something that was.

"Very well."

Without another word Yami was standing up and pulling out his desk, his skilled fingers managing to shuffle it a couple times. For a moment, Bakura just sat there before realizing the other was serious, and smiling at this chance, he followed suit. After shuffling their own decks once and allowing their opponent to do the same, they each drew a hand. Before the duel could truly get heated, however…

"You win."

Slowly, Bakura looked up from his hand, not sure he'd heard right. In all honesty, he was positive he was hearing things.

"Come again?"

Yami shrugged. "I said, 'you win.'"

"This duel hasn't even started yet!" he sputtered, his fingers practically bending the cards in his hand in half. "How can you just…are you even really who you say you are!"

"I no longer have a title to defend - Yugi has that - and if winning against me means so much to you, then I see no reason to deprive you of this single pleasure."

Eye twitching once, the thief slowly sat back down, his eyes never leaving the shorter man in front of him as he let all that sink in.

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. What's the point of winning if you say I do?"

"Well, isn't that what you wanted?"

"No! I…" Bakura scowled suddenly, hating to even remotely stutter, "You make things complicated; do you know that?"

The other actually laughed at that, laughed. He practically bristled at the sight of it, his back tensing as he sat up straighter.

"And perhaps you try to make things too easy. Not everything is black and white."

"Of course not, but that doesn't mean it can't be. I hate you, you hate me, and we fight. There's no need for gray areas in any of that."

"I don't hate you."

Such words were barely a whisper; even Bakura's sensitive ears nearly missed them as they were spoken and dropped. His ears almost twitched, as if trying to pick up their echo to confirm that Yami had spoken at all, but now there was nothing.

"Of course you do; there's no need to be nice about all of this now. Your happy naïve little posse isn't here anymore to impress."

"Then there's also no point in lying, is there?" Yami shook his head lightly before sighing. "I have never hated you, and it is you who put such idle thoughts inside your head. I-"

"Stop it! I don't want to talk about that anymore."

Though that sounded selfish, even childish, Yami only raised a brow and let it drop.

"Very well, then, let's talk about-"

"How about we stop talking and you just go away?"

"Do you…possibly not understand?" the other mused softly, speaking as if to himself though all the while he was looking straight at Bakura. He merely glared in return. "I suppose you don't; apparently you don't…"

"I'm still right here."

"Don't you want to move on?"

At the sudden question, Bakura's patience thinned to almost a single hair, his fingers clenching against the ground as if it were the only thing keeping him from lashing out all together. Never had he felt more insulted than he felt just now.

"Not only do you ask a lot of questions, but you seem to have a habit of asking stupid ones, too. Can you just get to your point, or will this take fifty more questions?"

"I'm here to take you away from this place."

The man raised a single finger, signaling for Bakura to keep quiet and let him explain, since he already knew what the other was going to ask.

"But you're too attached to this world, so we're both stuck here until you are willing to leave. So I ask you once again: what do you want?"

Not many things actually took Bakura by surprise, but when something did, even someone such as he was left momentarily lost. He wasn't sure what to say, the question this time around laced with more meaning than it had been before. It was as if he were being asked for the first time, and this time he had no definite answer. This, he didn't like at all.

"I don't know yet," he answered finally, his head tilting in one direction to give his answer a show of nonchalance, though he wasn't so carefree or uncaring about the answer as one would think.

Strangely, this seemed to be what Yami had been looking for. At his smile, the thief started back slightly, not trusting the look. At least, whenever he smiled it was never a good sign.

"All right, then how about you think about it. Until then, how about a real duel?"

Bakura snorted, though smiled his own smile as he stood up and approached the other. Battling the other was a whole lot better than watching this cold, dark place for eternity, at least.

"Works for me."

As he shook the other's hand in acceptance to the challenge, there was a flash of white light, and nothing more.