Warning: Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).
Disclaimer: YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from Loveless as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.
Background: Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.
Dedication: To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

Stepping Stones


----

A real secret doesn't exist. Protect with words unable to protect. Tear such things as these apart… Touch them with bare hands… All else then fades and only the truth will reach you.

Dearest brother, you never cease to amaze me. You never cease to impress. Once upon a time I never would have guessed it of you. Once upon a time I never would have questioned you. Maybe it's better this way. I can watch you from afar.

The room was pale and cold. Yuugi didn't seem to notice, but it struck Yami nearly at once. Kaiba was nowhere; he'd vanished nearly the instant the pair had come onto the grounds. It wasn't like him, Yami thought. Not…like this. Although, he would have to admit he was hardly privy to Kaiba's closest thoughts. (Who would want to be?) Perhaps the blue-eyed billionaire had very good reason for not wanting to suffer their presence.

Like the fact his brother is dead, Yami reflected.

"It's perfect!" Yuugi crowed excitedly, launching into an examination of the room at once. "Are we really going to live with Kaiba-kun?"

Yami nodded silently. Really there were few alternatives; he knew Kaiba hadn't needed to offer…so why? Why?

It was the 'why' of things that intrigued Yami. Things could be as they were in any fashion they pleased; the only part of their existence that caught his attention was their reason. Why? Why did anything exist, ad why was Kaiba being uncharacteristically generous?

Perhaps this wasn't 'uncharacteristic,' Yami mused. Maybe Kaiba had an ulterior motive; it would stand to reason. The young brunet…was unpredictable in the best of circumstances.

Yami's focus shifted back to Yuugi; the younger male was bouncing on the bed, crooning excitedly. He pouted when Yami stopped him, but the expression melted away rather quickly as the violet-eyed Yuugi found something of interest in the corner.

When Yami investigated, he found it was a spider Yuugi was playing with. Deciding there was worse Yuugi could get into, Yami didn't stop him. Instead, the taller of the two wandered back to the bed and perched on the edge, his head resting tiredly in his hands.

Why? he wondered again. Why did anything happen? Why did bad things destroy lives? Was there a rule somewhere, archived with the gravitational constant and laws of physics, sciences…was there a law that said bad things were meant to devastate not-bad people?

And if so…why?

*~*~*~*

Some days, brother, I wonder. You are not happy. You miss me…or rather, you mis my physical form. I'm here, brother. Seto, listen to me. I am here. I will never leave you. Trust me in this: trust me as you have never been able to trust anyone else. I am within you, brother. I am you. Trust in yourself, Seto. Trust in us.

He was out on the front lawn. Yami drew back from the curtains. Kaiba was kneeling in the grass. How long had he been there? What was he thinking? Did his skin burn in the chill or was he numb to the weather, consumed by inner demons? Yami hoped that Kaiba could still feel. How terrible would it be to lose an opponent because of this?

As he watched, Kaiba's hands brushed over the spot. He assumed it was where Mokuba had been killed. Why else would Kaiba be kneeling on the lawn? He certainly wasn't planning for the placement of croquet game pieces! No, the brunet was in mourning.

Even from his window vantage point, Yami could read that much in Kaiba's body language – the slumped shoulders, the lowered head, the questing hand. They all spelled defeat in a manner completely unrelated to pride.

Yami found it ironic in a morbid sense that Jounouchi – so long despised by Kaiba – had finally defeated the brunet, just as he had always said he would. It just happened that the manner of defeat was so much more…permanent.

Death.

What did he know about death? Too much…and too little. People said that to die was to end, as if in the blowing out of a candle. But, he had always wondered, could that spark of life be brought back in a new form? Candles could be relit; could lives – if the metaphor extended that far – be created anew as well? The same, and different. The same…and not the same at all.

Yami's attention returned to the scene before him when Kaiba lurched to his feet, standing for a long moment, his facial features obscured by his bangs. Then, as if he knew Yami was watching, Kaiba's gaze snapped up. Yami shrank back away from the window, unwilling to be discovered. It was a very, very long time before his heart stopped racing and he dared to look out once again. Kaiba had vanished, leaving the empty lawn. Yami sighed softly, and drew the drapes.

"You were watching."

He nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to face Kaiba. Were those…gods, were his cheeks wet from tears?

"Why?" the brunet demanded. If indeed he had been weeping, it did not reflect in his voice. Instead, confidence and coldness radiated from each word, and in his very carriage.

Yami shook his head; it was reflexive denial, as of that of a child caught in the act of thieving sweets. And as a child, Kaiba did not believe the denial, either, as Yami had known full well he wouldn't.

But why…

A question without a clear-cut answer. Yami glared into Kaiba's eyes, willing himself not to back down because to do so now would mean trouble later. This place needed to be a home (however temporary), and that could not happen if he and Kaiba were constantly at loggerheads. Dominance and boundaries needed to be established. Yami was used to being obeyed. He drew himself up to make the most of his height…but Kaiba had already taken his leave, and Yami was once more alone.

*~*~*~*~*

Every time I see you, Seto, you look so lost. Brother, why? I am still here. Is it something else, then, that hurts you? Makes you question yourself? There is no shame in fear, brother. And…Seto? Please, for me, remember – there is no shame in love.

The sky was blue. Yami looked back outside. It was grey out there. Cold and grey. He shut the picture book. Why exactly did Kaiba own a library full of picture books?

He was in the library. It reminded him of Yuugi's soul room, in a way. Childish on the inside, but hidden…

Yami shook his head, making fun of himself silently for daring to equate Kaiba with Yuugi. Somewhere, he heard screams, and a name, but he heard things too frequently now to really be bothered. Even the voices began to sound the same after a while. Male and female, in pain or not…they blended together until they were nothing but white noise, of little importance. So very little importance.

A set of footsteps reminded him he'd left Yuugi alone. Perhaps not the best choice. Yami stood, expecting Yuugi to come into the library. The footsteps grew closer, closer. They sounded as if echoing on stone.

And then…they began to fade away. No Yuugi. Yami stood for a while, confused, then he shook his head. Maybe he really was going mad, holed up in the abode of his once-greatest rival. Kaiba hardly seemed to warrant the title as of late. Really, Kaiba hardly seemed to warrant any title. Since that afternoon with the window and the lawn, Yami had not come across the brunet. It was eerily as if he and Yuugi were the only ones living in the Kaiba mansion.

The feeling that he needed Yuugi, needed to find him, to hold him, struck without warning. Yami left the library, blind to any nooks or crannies that may have concealed watchful blue eyes.

He raced up the stairs, through the hall and burst into the room he shared with Yuugi –

To find the violet-eyed male curled up, sleeping.

A name echoed, somewhere in the back of Yami's mind, and a flash of deeply tanned skin against ivory. It was easy to forget. All things were easy to forget with Yuugi.

Yami walked quietly to the bed and stood, watching the smaller male's form shift with every intake of breath. Alive. Alive. Alive.

Why, then, the images of death that assaulted him, burning with broken limbs and the screams of mortally wounded? A warning? Yuugi stirred. Yami smiled. No, not a warning. Just voices. Forgettable. He knelt on the edge of the bed, pulling the unresisting form closer and pressing kisses to Yuugi's forehead.

How lucky he was.

How lucky they both were. They had one another. That was all either needed.

Brother, have you considered? These two are not what they once were, but neither are you. They reside more in the past while you reach forward. The past is to be found in the present, Seto. You know. You have known. History, and life, repeats itself.