Three Days Grace

Quick AN from last chapter: For clarification, Kaiba’s looking to rebuild what was never actually broken, only severely fractured. Kaiba’s one of those intriguing breeds – an unreliable narrator. But don’t look so surprised – they ALL are. The only one who could tell the truth I silenced – no use knowing when I can leave you thinking instead.











Now that Kaiba was out of him, off of him, all Yami could recognize was how much he hurt. It hadn’t been gentle in the least. Not the way it was with…with Yuugi.



He had to pause to come up with the right name for his aibou. Another name, one that drew forth images of lotus flowers and earthen pots, lingered on the edges of his consciousness. Not ‘Yuugi,’ not ‘aibou,’ but something at once far more alien, though startlingly familiar. Like a favorite childhood rhyme played by a full orchestra.



That was disturbing in a way that even Kaiba couldn’t manage. Next to his temporary lapse in memory, Kaiba’s unexplainable mating urge seemed almost insignificant. Well, perhaps not insignificant, but less…something.



Yami curled himself up, using his knees to block his neck from view as he unhooked the collar that had been quite close to making him pass out. It’s a good thing no one needs oxygen during sex, anyway… With that off, he began to take mental inventory of damage.



Extra sore ass. Bruising in quite a few locations. Brain damage from oxygen deficiency? Chaffed wrists. Wrenched shoulder. Minor headache.



Nothing broken. Nothing obviously damaged beyond repair.



Movement recalled him to his surroundings. Kaiba was getting dressed. Yami cast about cautiously for his own clothing. He didn’t particularly care for the vulnerability of being the only one naked. Kaiba – whether by accident or out of the goodness of a heart Yami wasn’t sure he possessed – kicked Yami’s clothing within reach. Eagerly, he pulled his stuff on.



It felt extremely odd to have blood and semen on the inside of his pants legs, but there was nothing he could clean off with. Kaiba had donned his clothing without a care, Yami saw. He also noted, with minor jealousy, that the young CEO’s clothing wasn’t skin tight the way his was.



Kaiba was watching as he wriggled into the leather pants and black top. Yami flushed under that penetrating gaze. He was confused. What exactly had that been about? It hadn’t been horrible… To his confusion, he’d actually enjoyed some of it – but…Kaiba’s motives were utterly opaque.



Yami didn’t even bother trying to fathom a reason. He had asked ”Why?” and received pitying blue eyes as his only answer. Blue eyes that had swallowed him up, drawn him in close –



Violet eyes burned in his mind’s eye, obliterating the blue, searing his vision. That other name on his lips, seeking release from its confines. But he didn’t know the right locks to let it loose!



Yami glared past the purple bleeding to color his vision until Kaiba was in view again. He watched the taller duelist move from one corner of the room to the other, pacing. Not agitated, but passing time. He followed the CEO with his eyes, watching every movement, searching for a clue. Something. Anything.



Kaiba paused, once. Held himself still for the briefest of moments, locking eyes with him. In a nanosecond that lasted an eternity, so much passed between them.



No triumphant look of domination from the CEO. Instead, a look of hope, like he’d seen a light at the end of the tunnel. Heard the angels singing. Yami couldn’t take that look. He broke eye contact, reeling with the information such a brief moment had provided.



Kaiba…Kaiba had not touched him to hurt him. Perhaps had not even intended the physical maladies that accompanied him now. In blue eyes, he read broken belief, determination and something older, coming from the ancient past to redirect the future.



And violet eyes.



Violet – damn the purple blocking his vision! Blurring scarlet fever and ice chill together into nothingness. Yami stumbled towards the CEO, found himself caught in possessive arms asking for more than he could give. Arms cradling his broken, wreck of a body, holding him close to a frame warmer than his own.



Lips parted, but nothing came out. All his questions, his fears – dissolved when he was here. Held so close to the other duelist, his true rival… How then, did it feel remotely acceptable? Yami met blue eyes. Heard words. So soft…like dewdrops. So quiet he wasn’t even sure they were words until the tips brushed against his ears.



”Once I desire something…I cannot undesired it. I cannot even try to resist. I will desire it until I have it. But there is no end. No matter how much I take, I still want.”



Yami blinked. Is this Kaiba? he wondered dazedly. Is this…the same person who hurt Jounouchi? Who wanted to kill aibou? Or was that someone else? Strange thoughts that one had in the presence of a rival-turned – well…turned what, really? Lover?



It wasn’t love. It was sex. But so close to the brunet, held up so carefully, Yami’s mind had to wonder. Exactly what had that encounter been to Kaiba? And what had the other hoped to gain?



He’s always been in the game for power, Yami thought cynically, even as his hands twisted into the starched fabric of the brunet’s shirt. He never forgave aibou for defeating him. Never forgave me, either.



Was Kaiba taking him somewhere? They were just standing… Or, Kaiba was. Sometimes those blue eyes flickered down to meet his… Only briefly, because he always broke the contact, unsure of himself, of Kaiba.



Again, soft words echoing at the edge of his conscious mind. Kaiba’s words. Kaiba’s voice, though whether the CEO was peaking to him or not was open for interpretation.



”The time for games is over. If you want to set the world ablaze…lay down your weapons. There is nothing to fear.”



xxxxx



Something slammed above them. Someone screamed. Kaiba’s face, never soft, hardened beyond measure. A mixture of fear and foreboding flooded Yami. The brunet was still holding him but haphazardly with only one arm. The other swung loose by his side, aiding in momentum as the CEO began running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Yami clung on for dear life.



The screaming had abated by the time they reached the landing. Kaiba was a mad thing, eyes so wide his irises were nearly lost in a sea of white. Yami hit the ground on the silver-laden first floor, rolling to absorb the shock. Kaiba was sprinting towards the front door.



Time moved so slowly.



The door opened. Yami lurched back to his feet, hand outstretched, half-falling, half-running after the other, not knowing if the screaming was his own now or Kaiba’s or some demented angel come to taunt the both of them.



The door closed as Kaiba vanished through it. Yami wrenched it open and fell out onto the law outside. The perfectly manicured lawn. And screamed.



xxxxx



Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved. Once upon a time, he loved. And once up on a time, the one he loved was destroyed in the name of love.



Once upon a rhyme, they was a boy who lived. Once upon a thyme, he lived. And once upon a thyme, the life he lived was destroyed because of life. For life.



Once there was a time. Once there was a thyme. Once there was someone worth your pity. But not anymore.



xxxxx



A half-circle A flood of elements around a shock of blond.



Jounouchi stood there with blood on his hands. Only rage and pain touched his face. Only the scent of fear could possibly reach him now.



Disbelief, shock – Yami was beyond those, glaring in agonized silence across a chasm pushed deceptively close, but too far to ever breech.



Next to him, Kaiba was on his knees. The broken cry of his lover had taken to the skies, keening its grief.



Mokuba.



xxxxx



The meaning of lucid is sane. When one dreams and does not know it, one is not lucid. One is not…sane. Maybe I’m dreaming then. I’m dreaming my own death – his death, yours.



Yes, I’m looking at you. No, I can’t see you. Maybe it’s because none of us are quite real. Or maybe it’s because only I am.



Maybe it’s all one fearsome nightmare, bleeding all shades of red and blue and violet. The extra life in his eyes, the sense of self he was always missing – it’s there. His body is slumped with grief, but he seems taller somehow. He feels whole in a way no one ever truly does.



What are these tricks, then? What is this insanity/ These dreams none of us can wake from. The nightmares that have us all trapped in the floorboards, smelling Hell’s flames below but not quite ready to fall yet. Because when we fall, we’ll all just wake up, won’t we?



Unless the dream isn’t one, and the nightmare actually is. If it really is your little brother on your front lawn with huge slate eyes that can’t see anything anymore. Because maybe that experiment of yours has discovered it’s got some fangs after all… And maybe instead of killing you he killed your shadow instead.



And let’s suppose your shadow was your soul, your better half. Where would you be then? Dead? Lost? Destroyed?



Reborn.



But you couldn’t have done it alone, because no one can kill his own soul.



So now you’re seeing things and hearing things and I belong to you or you belong to me if you believe in the sort of thing you swore could never exist.



Which leaves one to wonder who is speaking when all of then are out there, crying over the crumpled body of a black-haired boy. Because, who would think someone as perfectly demented as us could use the touch of grace?



___________________________-

Author’s Notes: Neither version of Yami is hallucinating with any clarity. Only Seto/Seth is allowed that particular privilege. Or is it a curse? If he was cursed with remembering a past his present day self hardly believes in, would you pity him?

I have Loveless quotes in here too… So, those don’t belong to me either.