A Different Side of Darkness

Title: A Different Side of Darkness 2/?
Author: Kleptomaniac Can Opener
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Yami x Yugi, various side pairings
Disclaimer: Seeing as this isn’t being done in any sort of official form, I’m going to guess Yugi-Oh isn’t mine.

Summary: In a dark world, a teen discovers an even darker power... And it wears a halo?

~*~*~*~

Has the sunlight always been this bright?

He isn’t sure what or how, but something is different. Yami doesn’t remember a time when his dreary world seemed so...bright. It can’t be because of the puzzle...right?

“There you are.” Jounouchi walks over to where Yami is standing next to the apartment building. “Shit! You finished it?!”
“Last night.” Yami holds the puzzle up, the morning light making the gold surface sparkle.
“And you have it out in the open? Hide it!” Jounouchi pulls off his jacket and plops it over the puzzle, hiding it from view. Yami rolls his eyes and pulls the jacket off.
“It’s fine. I have a good feeling about it.”
“But-”
“It’s fine, Jounouchi. Trust me.”
“...From anyone else, I would say hell no. You know that, right?” Yami smiles.
“I know. Do you have a short chain?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Get it for me.”
“Okaaaay...” The blond scratches his head but fetches the chain for his companion. “Here. The combo’s three-two-four-nine.”

Yami looks the chain over. It’s of good make and obviously new. “Where’d you get it?”
“Some jerk ran his bike over my stuff.”
“So you stole the bike, sold it, and kept the chain?” Jounouchi grins.
“In a nutshell.”
“His misfortune is my good fortune.” He threads the chain through the loop on the bottom of the pyramid and locks it before slipping the overgrown necklace around his neck. Jounouchi whistles.
“Got you some bling-bling. Stylin’!” He pokes a finger at the stylized eye on the face of the pyramid. “Kinda freaky though.”
“I like it.”

“You know,” Jounouchi says while rubbing his chin, “this reminds me of a lesson I slept through in history class.”
“It’s called the Eye of Horus. It’s Egyptian.”
“Oh yeah! North and South Egypt, right?” Yami chuckles.
“That’s Upper and Lower Egypt, Jounouchi. My grandfather was an archeologist before he disappeared, so I know a bit about it.” He stretches, his back popping loudly. “Let’s get some breakfast.”
“We should be layin’ low, Yami. Those guys might still be looking around.”
“Don’t worry.” Yami feels another smile stretch across his lips, confidence filling his being. “We’ll be just fine.”

~*~*~*~
A Different Side of Darkness
Part 2
~*~*~*~

There wasn’t a city left standing in Japan after Kami no Ikari, the Wrath of God. A 10.0 earthquake hit the mainland without warning, tearing everything apart. The quake resulted in fires from busted appliances and gas lines, tsunamis the size of mountains came crashing down on everyone’s heads. Whole buildings were swept away. Then Mount Fuji erupted.

The world was amazed there were survivors.
The survivors were amazed there was still a world.

Initially, Japan’s allied forces helped piece everything back together. Roads were cleared and temporary housing erected where tall buildings once stood. But in the end, it was a handful of families that began shaping the ruined land’s new future. People who had money and assets overseas, connections and influence in more than just the island country. Their chosen were placed in office when it came time to reestablish a form of government, puppets on strings of darkness, dancing to their master’s tune.

Almost eighty years after Kami no Ikari, Japan cannot be recognized as the Japan it was, not with its walled-off cities and spanning slums that are the leftover ‘temporary housing’. Japan presents a smiling face to the world by showing off the uniformed children walking in straight lines to school in the new, shiny cities, by offering new inventions and delights to prove the country is healed.

Just don’t pay any mind to the man behind the Curtain. An Iron Curtain no one is allowed to cross.

~*~

Down five blocks and around the corner is a small cafeteria, or soup kitchen, whatever you want to call it. Bonz-a-Dozen is the unsavory name, and its equally unsavory owner, Ghost Kotsuzuka (a small person whose age no one is sure of and who looks really freaky), is currently standing in front of the door glaring at Yami and Jounouchi. “You’re not coming in here unless you pay off your tab,” he states stoutly, arms crossed over his thin chest. But those arms become slack enough to fall to his sides when he sees Yami’s smile. He’s never seen a smile like this before. It’s soft, it’s sincere, it’s... It makes him feel warm inside his cold body.

Yami kneels down to Ghost Kotsuzuka’s height. “I’m sorry, little Master. How much do we owe you?”
“Uh, fifty-thousand and two-hundred yen.” Kotsuzuka stares into Yami’s eyes. Strange...is there purple inside of the red? He’s never noticed that before.
“I have twenty-five thousand right here, I promise to give you the rest later, okay?”
“Okay,” he finds himself agreeing.

Once inside, Jounouchi exclaims. “What did you just do to him? A Jedi Mind Trick? That was whacked!”
“I’m not too sure to be honest,” Yami answers slowly. He muses it was almost like someone had taken over his body.
“Well, whatever it was, it got us in! Good job, Yami!”


After their meager breakfast, the two head into town to find themselves some form of entertainment. They end up at the arcade they had gone to the previous day. “Hey, Yami?” Jounouchi says to get the other boy’s attention while he pops in 100yen pieces for the game. “Think any of the others will be out today?”
“Probably the girls, but not Bakura if he still has a brain.”

“Hey, guys!” A bundle of energy pounces the two teenagers.
“Mokuba! Hey!” Jounouchi grins and ruffles the boy’s dark spikes. “Where’ve you been?”
“Here and there. The others aren’t around?”
“Not today, little buddy.”

“Where’s your crew, Mokuba?” Yami asks when they’re done with their bonding moment.
“Here and there.” Yami raises a brow at the repeat of the ambiguous response, but he chooses not to inquire further. “I’m more interested in what you guys are doing,” pipes the boy. “It’s been so boring lately!”
“Just the usual,” is all the tri-colored teen will say as he shoots zombies in the head. “Nothing unusual at all,” he added in a drawl, passing the gun to Jounouchi to let him play the next level. Mokuba frowns and meets Yami’s eyes. The message between them is silent but clear.

The other is up to something, and they both know it.

Mokuba blinks. “How did I miss THAT?” He leans over to get a closer look at the ‘pendant’ hanging around Yami’s neck. “Wow, it’s pretty cool! Where’d you get it? It looks a little familiar for some reason.”
“It’s something I found in my grandfather’s collection. He got it in Egypt.”
“Ah, okay. That’s probably why the design looks familiar. Oniisama has bunches of things that are Egyptian-related.” His small finger traces the Eye on the gold surface. It’s strangely warm to his touch.

A siren sounds and the games shut off. “Aw, hell,” complains Jounouchi as he drops the gun to hang from its cable. “It’s those damn Nobuseri.”

According to history, the Nobuseri were samurai turned bandits after a great war that brought ‘peace’ to the land of Japan. They were so named for the Emperor of the era, a man who secretly controlled the bandits for his own gain.
These Nobuseri, however, are actually specialized SWAT teams from inside the Iron Curtain, AKA the City. They randomly invade the slums in order to capture its residents for reeducation, or brainwashing, as most would call it. The System hates having a rouge factor like the slums. The Nobuseri are just the first step in stamping them out.

“Just stick with me, guys.” Mokuba makes sure the two teens follow him out of the arcade, right pass the men in black uniforms. One glance at the boy and the Nobuseri ignore them. “It comes in handy knowing a Kaiba, huh?”
“You could say that again, little buddy!” Jounouchi grins and ruffles Mokuba’s spikes, making the kid laugh.

Behind them, Yami can hear people quickly hiding themselves from the uniformed men. The city is riddled with hidden cubby holes and sewer entrances. The Nobuseri’s call makes him laugh. “Please do not be alarmed! We are here for your benefit! Come with us peacefully and no harm will come to you!”
“I doubt Otogi would agree. Do they really believe the dribble they’re spouting?”
“Not a word,” Mokuba confirms. “But that’s the System for you.”

The Nobuseri are swarming everywhere in the sector, forcing Jounouchi and Yami to stick close to Mokuba like puppies on a leash. “There are more than usual,” Yami comments in a low voice.
“Yeah,” agrees Jounouchi.
“I wonder if something’s going down? I’ll call niisama about it.” Mokuba pulls out his cell phone and hits his speed dial. “Hey, oniisama, you know anything about with the Nobuseri raid today? Not a clue, huh? No, nothing like that. Okay, thanks anyway. I’ll be home for dinner, bye.” He slips his phone back into its holster. “Sorry, guys. Niisama doesn’t know either.”
“We kinda guessed that,” Jounouchi snickers.

Things didn’t stay a laughing matter for long. Not when they can see and hear the poor souls trapped inside the vans, crying for help and mercy.

“Not cool,” Jounouchi says in a low voice. “I’d like to show those Nobuseri bastards a thing or two.”
“There will come a time for that, but it isn’t now.” Yami holds firm to the blonde’s shoulder to keep him from doing anything rash.

“I have to head home, guys,” interrupts Mokuba. “I’ll see you another time.” The boy waves to the pair and heads towards the Curtain Gate.
“Don’t get lost in there!” Jounouchi yells as a joke. Mokuba laughs.
“I won’t! I’ll visit again when I get the chance!”

Yami kept his eyes on the boy until he disappeared around a corner.

“What do you think he’s up to?” Jounouchi asks once he’s sure the boy is gone.
“I’m sure we’ll know soon enough. It’s unusual for him to be here so often. Kaiba or not, the City Council can’t approve.”
“Yeah.” The blond yawns and stretches. “I’m getting bored. I’m gonna track down Honda and hang out for a while. You comin’?”
“No, I have some things to do.”
“Alright. We’ll be in the usual places if you change your mind.”

Yami heads deeper into the heart of the slums. He wants to check out Otogi’s story, to see how much merit it has. Even if it will be an uphill war...to join the lower regions will be an accomplishment similar to the original uniting of China.
His first stop will be a bar. Information and alcohol tend to go hand-in-hand.

“Hey, pretty boy,” grinds out a rough voice from shadows ahead. Yami holds back an annoyed groan. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you, you little shit!” The man makes to grab Yami by the collar, but the teenager evades him with a smooth step.
“You have no business with me.” Yami voice can freeze fire right now.
“Yeah, I do, punk. You have to pay a toll to come through here.”

Yami narrows his eyes. Just then, the feeling from that morning returns. It’s like someone is taking control of his body, but it doesn’t come across as intrusive at all. His lips pull into a small smile. “Would you like to play a game with me?” Is that his voice? He sounds like a child, much too pure and naïve to ever possibly be him.

The man laughs. It’s a loud, snorting sound like a choking pig. “A game, eh? Oh, I’ll play with you alright, kid. Get over here. I might even let you off easy.” Yami feels his smile become wider.
“Thank you for accepting.”

Only now does the man realize there is a strange chill in the air. The world is darkening into a purple black all around them, twisting and swirling like the insides of a living organism. “What is this?!”
“You said you wanted to play a game.”

Then Yami’s vision blacks out and a door slams in his face. “What?!” He bangs his fists against the slab of wood. “What the hell?! What is this?!” There’s no answer except for an echo. Yami figures there must be a hallway behind the door.
He stops pounding away after several minutes. “Dammit, what is this?” He looks around and is shocked by what he sees.

It’s a familiar bedroom. Not the one he shares with Jounouchi in the abandoned apartment building, but the one he had when his parents and grandfather were still alive, if you replaced the windows with mirrors. They had lived far from the Curtain, so the neighborhood had been mostly made up of farmers and fishermen in hand-built houses.

Yami runs his hands over the sleeping mat made of grass and feathers. He recognizes the hand-carved activity desk and bookshelves, the two trunks that had held all his possessions, and the various knick-knacks lying about that grandpa had gotten him from his trips.

“How is this possible? I don’t understand.” He spins around but can’t see a way out except for the door that won’t open. Then he sees an image in the mirrors.
It’s him, but not. The person in the mirror is beautiful where he’s handsome, and though he also has his multi-colored spikes, the person lacks the bolts of lightning in the bangs. And his eyes... Yami has never seen anyone with violet eyes before. They’re like polished amethyst.

His look-alike is facing against the greasy punk, smiling like they’re only out for a walk on a good day. “Hey, you!” Yami shouts. “Give me back my body!” But the picture blanks out and he loses any sense of the passing time.

Then there’s a ‘SNAP!’ and he’s back in his body.

Yami is disoriented for a moment, the world spinning like he has stood up too fast. Crimson eyes open when a low whimper catches his attention.
Before him is the man, huddled into a trembling ball in a puddle of his own piss. “What happened to you...?” The man screams at his voice.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I repent!”

The teen’s hands fist. What the hell happened while he wasn’t in control of his body? He doesn’t mind giving scum what they deserve, but he sure as hell wants to know what it was!

There’s the sound of footsteps, then two more men show up. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?” shouts one of them. From their looks they’re probably friends of the pitiful, quivering heap at Yami’s feet. But death must be showing in his blood-red eyes because the men back up like he’s holding a gun to them. “Whoa, whoa, we’re cool! We saw nothin’, man!”
“Good.” Yami stalks right past them, his coat billowing behind him from a sudden wind. He runs a hand through his golden bangs, his fingers curling into his scalp from frustration. “What the hell is going on?”