Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Going Under ❯ Breaking The Habit ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh…hmm…*flips through list of things I own* Nope, no Yu-Gi-Oh. But I do have a ton of the manga volumes in Japanese! (And the first eight in English as well)

Warnings: Yaoi, depression, thoughts of suicide, mentions of torture, OOC-ness

***

It was for you.

Everything I did—it was all for you. My life, my soul, my future (not that I had much of a life, or much of a future)—I gave it all up. Just to save you. Didn't you realize that, Pharaoh?

Didn't you care?

No, of course not—what am I thinking? After all, how could you care? I mean—you were a Pharaoh! The Living (well, not exactly living…) God, the King of Games, the people's lost messiah! (I think…)

And me?

Why, I'm just a lowly thief! A vengeful, bitter thief who, like an idiot, spent millenniums fighting you for something that, as it turned out, wasn't even your fault.

But listen: you, you who are so quick to judge, should know something about me, should have known a long time ago—

I loved you.

I. Loved. You.

And even at the moment of my death, you hated me. Even as my body and soul was eaten away by nightmarish darkness, you still kept a grudge. I was as much a victim as you.

More so, because you had a happy beginning and a happy ending, while I had no happiness. More so, because you were surrounded always by worshipping fans, whereas I had neither friend nor family.

My sacrifice meant nothing, for all that it saved the world. You will probably be remembered forever, while no one will care about me. No one has ever cared about me.

Why couldn't you care about me, Pharaoh?Why?!

If you had, maybe I could have kept my word and stayed dead—and then the world would be free from both of us.

Then again, that may not have been a good thing—for if you had cared about me for a moment, maybe I would never have been able to find someone who will care about me forever.

***

Seto Kaiba, CEO of Kaiba Corp, grimaced at the sight of the cast on his hand that was making his typing so much slower than usual. His other half, Seth, had promised it would be gone in a matter of weeks—and he would probably know. But a few weeks is too long to wait if you're the nineteen-year-old owner of a company which now controls more than three quarters of the world.

Unlike Bakura and Atemu, the now-dead other halves of Ryou Bakura and Yugi Mutou, Seth was not bound to a Millennium Item because the Millennium Items no longer existed.

Because of this, he was unable to control Kaiba's body—but he was able to create his own body, either spiritual or physical. But, for multiple reasons, he could only survive through hurting others—"others" usually meaning Kaiba.

And, while Seth was an expert physician and knew spells to use to make sure that Kaiba felt no pain (unless it was one of the astoundingly rare occasions that Kaiba had actually angered him, in which case the best he could hope for was to keep all his bones) the injuries were still inconvenient, and the very thought of them tended to be infuriating.

And for that matter, it was beginning to scare Mokuba.

"Done yet, Grump?" asked a familiar voice, almost identical to his, but too cheerful to be his. Impatient and a little exasperated, perhaps, but still eerily sunny for a voice that so resembled his.

Kaiba felt himself stiffen up, despite his determination not to fear his remarkably good-tempered other half—or at least not to show it if he feared him. "Why couldn't I have a normal other half?" he muttered angrily in spite of himself, not even glancing up—he knew who it was. "One who's dead, half-sane, and doesn't have his own body?"

"Well, it's nice to see you, too," replied Seth sarcastically; glad Kaiba's head was down so he didn't see how his bitter, thoughtless words made Seth flinch. "Here."

Kaiba lifted an eyebrow as Seth dropped a pile of papers and one soft-cover book onto his desk. "And…just what are these supposed to be?" he asked, pushing the computer aside *gasp!* and pulling the pile towards him so he could get a better look at them. His curious expression melted into one of hard rage as he saw what the book was.

"Some stock information and the latest Yu-Gi-Oh manga," he replied, casual as ever. "They're going to some place to fight that Pegasus person you told me about. Isn't that nice?"

"Wonderful," Kaiba muttered.

Barely a month after the deaths of Atemu and Bakura, Kaiba had moved to America (taking Seth and Mokuba with him, naturally). Once they were there, they found out about a show/card game called 'Yu-Gi-Oh.' Kaiba had watched one of the episodes and stated in no uncertain terms that it was a piece of absolute rubbish. (Though he had used a less mild word)

Seth, being the helpful bastard that he was, found out about something called a 'manga.' Now, he, of course, had no idea what a manga was—but Kaiba did. He looked through it and admitted grudgingly that it was a lot more accurate. Since then, every time a new volume came out, Seth seemed to consider himself obligated to make sure Kaiba got a copy.

Kaiba, who didn't want to remember the occurrences of the past ever happened, couldn't stand this.

He also couldn't stand the fact that Seth brought the magazines as well, though secretly he agreed that it might be useful to know what people were saying/writing about him.

After flipping through the pages for a moment, Kaiba looked up at his other half. Seth felt something tighten in his chest at the look of utter despair upon the CEO's face.

"Why do you hate me?"

Seth rolled his eyes. "Must you always be so melodramatic, Seto? I don't hate you, and you know it as well as I do."

"Well, then, why do you torture me?"

Seth didn't have a reply to that.

"I want to forget," said Kaiba flatly. "I want to forget any of those horrors ever occurred. I want to go back to my insane delusion that magic isn't real and destiny doesn't exist. And I can't do that as long as you exist."

Seth stared at Kaiba, who was now gazing down at the magazines, unable to look at him. So that was it. Who he was, who he symbolized, the very things which made him himself were the things which created an unbridgeable gap between him and his other half.

Because he symbolized everything that Kaiba wanted to forget, because he was the only reminder left. Seth glanced at the cast on his other half's hand, then shook his head and disappeared.

Kaiba waited until he left, his good hand clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palm and made it bleed. Then he opened the page and his eyes narrowed. Standing up, he ripped out the page, crumpled it up, and flung it as hard as he could. Page after page, he tore and threw. Then suddenly he stopped, his hand hovering over the page.

His eyes almost softened as he gazed upon the beautiful face of a boy, with gorgeous eyes and long pale hair and a strange artifact around his neck. Picking up a pair of scissors, he carefully snipped the image out and opened a drawer. He put the picture with the others.

Then he went back to mutilating the rest of the thing. Then he heard the crash.

***

"You heard it, too?" Seth asked.

Kaiba nodded. "It came from around there," he said, pointing, and they darted in the direction he had been pointing in. Suddenly Seth gasped and staggered back, and Kaiba stared.

The red-caped figure stirred, and rose up, pale hair hiding his face. Gazing up, he stared at them with haunted blue eyes that were filled with enough confusion to match theirs'.

"You're…alive?" gasped Seth.

"I am?" he whispered. His voice sounded choked, and Kaiba noticed how scratched he was from falling. Slowly, very slowly, Kaiba nodded. Their pale-haired visitor gazed from Seth to Kaiba, the despair in his face growing rapidly. Then he buried his head in his arms, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing as if he would never stop.

***

Memories consume, like opening the wound
They're picking me apart again
You all assume I'm safe here in my room
Unless I try to start again

I don't want to be the one
Who battles always choose
Cuz inside I realize
That I'm the one confused

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean

I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit tonight

Clutching my cure I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more than anytime before
I have no options left again

I don't want to be the one
Who battles always choose
Cuz inside I realize
That I'm the one confused

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean

I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit tonight

I'll paint it on the walls
Cuz I'm the one that falls
I'll never fight again
And this is how it ends

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
But now I have some clarity
To show you what I mean

I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit tonight