Behind every great man, there has to be great evil


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For as long as he could remember, he wasn't the one to brag. He wasn't the one to gloat. He was the one to... enjoy his victory in a more subtle manner; by riling his opponent, by taunting him, by screwing with his mind. So much more sophisticated, he thought smugly to himself. So much more class.

As usual, the Shadow Realm welcomed its master, the dark blue and purplish clouds swarming around him without hindering him. They moved out of his path, almost reverently, and flocked together again behind him, as if they wanted to prevent him from leaving again. They knew it was futile, though- he was the Darkness, and the Shadow Realm abided by his every word- he was master and ruler here.

He went by the name of his host, Bakura, not really caring for using his real name. At least he still knew his name, in contrary to a certain Pharaoh, who was now running Gods-know-where around in search for this precious bit of information. Bakura's lips curled into a tiny smile. If he learned the Pharaoh's name as well, it would help him greatly in creating his ultimate Game: the eight key, together with the seven Millennium Items, would unlock the Gates of Darkness and bring back... he shook his head. He wasn't the person to divulge his plans either. He was someone to anticipate and plan ahead. He could deal with a setback, he could deal with waiting... in the end, it would be him, obtaining the greatest victory.

Looking around him, Bakura saw nothing but the vast emptiness of the Shadow Realm, dark clouds pulsating, shape-shifting, and morphing.

"Tell me where he is," he voiced out loud. He had enough time on his hands, but he didn't want to waste it on something so insignificant. Still, he wanted to tie up the loose ends- and this was a very loose end indeed. He might be able to deal with a setback... but that didn't mean that he had to like it. Two Millennium Items were already in his possession, and he missed out on a third because of some demented loon, another personality, no, another fragment of a personality, one created out of sheer hatred and anger. Bakura had wanted to use him for his plans, but he had proven to be too unpredictable. He teamed up with the host of the personality instead, hoping to get the Millennium Rod out of it by dueling the darker half. He had lost.

Fucking stupid God Cards. He gritted his teeth. Bakura had lost twice to a God Card, when events turned out differently then he had planned. First, when his host proved to be too physically weak, second when the Winged Dragon of Ra proved to have more tricks up its sleeve than the original host had known about. Fucking stupid Malik. He hoped the kid would crawl up and die somewhere, or at least shrivel up to an overripe prune or something. There was nothing from this setback that he could use to his advantage and that ticked him incredibly off; Bakura had always been able to use at least something from his previous defeats to his own benefit. Maybe it was because of those irritations that he was wandering around in the Shadow Realm, looking for a certain someone to take out his frustrations on. The clouds hurriedly moved away from him, clearing his path hastily. His faint smile turned into a grin when he approached his prey.

"So much for evil."

The person in front of him, his prey, was nothing much...nothing more than a shadow, literally, a shadow amongst shadows. Deprived of a physical body, defeated by his own host, he'd been reduced to even less than a fragment of a personality: a figment of someone's imagination.

"Evil has more sides and faces."

Bakura hadn't expected an answer, and he wasn't really sure why not. Malik Ishtar's dark half didn't need his voice to speak in the Shadow Realm; his thoughts were turned into words by the Shadows, echoing all around.

"As if you should know."

"Hmmm?"

"As if you should know anything about evil."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not evil."

That got a livelier reaction out of him, and Yami no Malik turned around, as far as it could be considered a movement- without a physical body, he appeared to be simply shifting, adjusting his position from being turned away from Bakura to turning towards him.

Bakura cocked his head, taking in the appearance of the darker personality that had managed to defeat him, thanks to a certain trick of an Egyptian God Card. Nothing had changed about Yami no Malik, besides him not being corporeal anymore. The shadows reflected and mirrored how he had looked like during his short lifespan, nothing more, and nothing less. He was a shadow, a ghost, a nobody, and certainly not worth his precious time. Bakura asked himself why he was exactly here, why he was drawn to this other dark half who stared at him blankly. If there was anything about him that could be touched, it would be the harsh, typical glint in his lavender eyes.

"Don't tell me, Master of Shadows, that you've come here to tell me that I'm not evil."

"I'll tell you whatever the fuck I want. You should be extremely thankful for ending up here instead of completely dead."

"Since when do you care?"

"I don't," Bakura snarled. "I'm glad that you survived so far in my Realm- so I can tear you to fucking pieces."

"Is that your petty definition of evil? Rubbing it in someone's face? OooOOoh, please don't hurt me, Bakura, I'm soo~oo afraid."

Bakura clenched his fists, driving his nails into the palms of his hands.

"Don't be fucking stupid. You're not evil- I am evil, for I rule this place, and when I'm done with you, you'll wish that the Pharaoh would've killed you instead of send you here."

The mention of the Pharaoh got Bakura a venomous look, and he smirked. For all the irritation Yami no Malik worked up in him, the other Egyptian dark half was simply and easy to annoy in return. He had adopted his hate for the Pharaoh from his host- hell, the intense hatred for the Pharaoh contributed greatly to his coming into existence in the first place- and would be his weakness, now and forever.

"You know very well that if my host hadn't been able to stop me, there had been no Earth left?"

Bakura shrugged. "Others have tried that before. Trying to conquer or dominate the world isn't evil."

"Being the ruler over a realm that can't even be perceived by mortals isn't that evil either."

He narrowed his eyes. "The Shadows do as I say, and have served me well. I feed them souls and slaves, and creatures like you."

"Threatening doesn't make you evil, Bakura. It makes you look fucking pathetic, and you're only fucking lucky I don't have my Sennen Rod with me."

"You wouldn't understand the true meaning of evil anyway," Bakura said in return, his foul mood not exactly improving. He'd hoped for a more violent reaction of the other yami, not this rather composed... almost civil... conversation. He didn't owe Yami no Malik any explanation, if anything, he wanted to choke the life out of him, allowing the shadows to have his way with him. "Evil has nothing to do with your gloating and bragging when you had all the trump cards in your hands. When you were disarmed, you turned into some pitiful pleading brat, and you call yourself evil?"

"I never said that I was evil, but what I am, I am more than you," he said smugly. "Bakura, I was the one to kill my host's father, I was the one to acquire the Sennen Rod, I was the one destined to defeat the Pharaoh, not you. That sums it pretty much up."

"You're not evil by a long shot."

"Why, I pretty much think that I am."

"I ripped souls out of the Pharaoh's vessel and his bunch of friends, and I had defeated him if..."

"If it weren't for your host, hmm? You're so evil, Bakura, you even stepped in front of Osiris' attack and saved your precious fucking host. My my, aren't we evil!"

"Shut the fuck up! As if you could ever be the epitome of evil you hold yourself for!"

Bakura reminded himself to remain calm- getting all worked wouldn't help him, and his impatience and stubbornness had been his major flaw when dueling this particular dark side.

The silence that fell wasn't that uncomfortable; Bakura felt the other's examining eyes on him, those strange pale lavender eyes, devoid of any emotion but the smoldering hate and anger, the two basic emotions he consisted of.

"I could you show you why I'm eviler than you."

He was about to give up - his foul mood be damned, he would find another, more satisfying victim- when he heard the other's words.

"You couldn't be eviler than me, you stupid fu..." It wasn't the swift movement that surprised him, as well the nature of the movement- translucent or not, Yami no Malik kissed him, pressing lips on his, and quite forcefully as well.

His answer was smothered by the force of the kiss, and he clawed at him, his hands flailing in the cold, empty air. It was the Shadow Realm, imprinting in his mind that he was being kissed; he couldn't be kissed by the one who didn't have any dimension, literally- it just wasn't possible. The shadows made him feel this physical contact, the touch of lips on his, the ferocity he was kissed with. When the pressure subsided, Bakura took a step backwards nonetheless, hating himself for openly showing his surprise. He swiped with his sleeve over his mouth, brushing his lips, looking as disgusted as possible, but horribly failing.

The other dark half had the gall to look at him with this amused expression on his barely visible face, built from reflected components, formed by what the shadows allowed him to form. Only his eyes... only his eyes held that intensity as they had always held. Bakura growled.

"This is your idea of evil? Pissing me off by kissing me?"

"Why do you need to ask?"

"You stupid fuck... you don't understand shit, you..."

Something had changed, and Bakura wasn't sure what exactly, but things didn't feel the same anymore. He started to realize that he hadn't had the control over their conversation, not even from the beginning. Gritting his teeth, he tried to not get bested by his annoyance and anger. He was the composed one; he was the one to be in complete control!

His mind and his body didn't protest when he was kissed again, the other's touch warm and solid, and exciting- too exciting. His senses were heightened in the Shadow Realm, as its true Master and wielder of the shadows, Bakura was privileged to feel what no one else could feel; the intense thrill of a touch, the searing longing behind a kiss, the screaming coldness of betrayal. The Sennen Ring started to glow and he wanted to cry from the sudden outburst of light, hurting his eyes.

Solid hands were placed against his body, and their touch faded away before Bakura could register it. He was falling apart, on the inside and the outside, while golden tanned skin and dark lavender eyes danced in front of him, his eyesight temporary blinded. He brought up his own hands, wanting to touch the other, wanting to push him away, his instincts warning him that things went wrong, that he was about to... fade. His eyesight slowly adjusted itself, agonizingly slow, and his first impulse was to heave a sigh of relief, seeing that nothing about his surroundings had changed.

"True evil..." Someone sighed close to his ear. Bakura turned around, noticing that he felt... light, like floating, and he saw the other dark half, not reflected by shadows anymore. Yami no Malik showed him a sickly sweet smile, holding up the Sennen Ring. He was solid- as solid as one could be, colors almost vibrating with life, the gold on his body shining, his platinum blond hair waving in the faint breeze conjured by the Shadow Realm.

Bakura lunged forward to grab the Ring, but he already knew that he wouldn't be able to touch it. His hand went right through the object, his pale skin as translucent as the other yami had been, a mere second ago.

"True evil," Yami no Malik repeated, "is to use the one thing the other trust most, against him." Shaking the Ring in his hands, the golden prongs dangling as if they were laughing at their previous owner, he started cackling.

Bakura had no answer to that. He hadn't given it any second thought before, that his precious Shadow Realm could be turned against him, could even think of turning of used against him. He could do nothing but to growl, that the shadows didn't even transfer, so the other wouldn't hear it. Clenching his fists was of no use, he wouldn't be feeling it anyway. He was the one reduced to a figment of someone's imagination now; and all his careful, strategic planning was obsolete. He could do nothing but to watch the other part, cackling and laughing, and his only consolation was that the Pharaoh would notice the other dark half's presence, and do something about it. The thought that the Pharaoh of all people was going to help him- his host of course, not him personally- made him even feel sicker to his stomach.

It was true. He wasn't the most evil, and had been defeated again. A minor setback- he could learn from this, and use it to his advantage. He had always seen advantages where others had been left without hope. Bakura grinned slightly. Enjoy your victory, for now. There was more to learn about evil. He wanted to laugh, but couldn't find his voice. Yes, he would learn and use this experience so he would be even more difficult to defeat in the future, and there was one more side to evil, indeed.

Irony.



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