Nothing

Seto approached the figure sitting beside the bed of jasmine. She was humming happily as her fingers wove over and in through the garland she had strung over her lap. A warm breeze blew, sending a fragrant waft through the garden and causing her silvery white locks to flutter gently across her shoulders.

This was…

All finished!" she exclaimed, pressing a hand onto the grass and propping herself up. "Set," she greeted, her smiling sky blue eyes crinkling.

He did not need to ask who she was.

"You're quiet today," she noted, stepping closer to him. "No questions for me?"

What more had he to say?

Humming the same tune from before, she placed the garland gently over his shoulders.

"Why are you here?" he had asked at their first meeting.

"You called me," she answered simply.

"But you died," he said incredulously, recalling the battle.

"I live on in your memory."

She looked up at him, amused. "What are you thinking, my Set?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, unable to tear his eyes from her face.

"You're so secretive," she teasingly murmured and clasped her fingers in between his, guiding their hands in a turn.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She laughed and quickened their pace, "We're dancing!"

He felt the blood rise to his face as they spun around. Why was he doing this? he thought, feeling embarrassed.

The touch of her hands were soft and light when they rested against his palms and her eyes twinkled with fondness upon alighting on his gaze. She released a hand and raised their remaining hold upwards, twirling herself in toward his body and then out again. He felt the sides of his lips reluctantly tugging upwards as she skipped beside him, flashing silly faces and holding back her laughs.

But wait.

An instinct told him something was going wrong. Whenever his heart begins to feel the first signs of peace…

He caught her at the waist as she crumpled against him. "Kisara!" he cried, slowly setting themselves down onto their knees. Her head rested against his shoulder. "Set," she whispered, her hand quivering and clenched into a fist by her abdomen.

A red stain had appeared on the bust of her dress and her breathing was labored. But how? he thought furiously. "Kisara!" he called, patting her face, which had gone paler than usual.

Not again…

The smell of iron was getting stronger.

Wake up, he begged, wake up. Her blood-stained hand slipped to her side.

Wake up, damn it!

-o-

"Kisara!" Seto cried, shooting straight up in bed. His heart pounded violently and his body felt cold with sweat. Clutching his forehead, he prattled through the shock and reminded himself that he was in his room. Images from the nightmare flashed through his mind all at once: Her smile, her eyes, her laughter… Her fall. He had let her die.

It was just a dream, he thought, breathing heavily. Just a dream. He wiped his eyes. None of it was real. It wasn't real.

The door to his room flew open and he heard the worry resound in Mokuba's voice. "Nii-sama! What's wrong?" he asked from the other side of the bed curtains. "It's nothing, Mokuba," Seto said, trying to sound like his regular self. He didn't want his younger brother to see him.

"But—" his brother began.

"Go back to sleep," he said firmly. "I'm fine."

There was an uncertain shuffle before he heard footsteps leading away from his direction. "Okay… Good night, Seto."

He waited another minute for Mokuba to be soundly back in his room next door before letting out a choked sob. It became increasingly hard to breathe; his heart felt like it was being wrenched in two. Through the sheer curtains, he could see the blue light from the moon flooding in from the balcony doors.

Blue… Blue Eyes…

She had haunted his dreams since his return home. Despite his efforts to dismiss his experience in the memory world, he could not erase the knowledge of her connection with his Blue Eyes White Dragon. The hairs on his arms and neck raised. He had felt her… That time when all three dragons were merged to summon the Ultimate Dragon against Zorc…

Lowering himself back against the pillows, he stared at the dark outlines of the canopy. He was afraid to close his eyes. With every blink, he saw her lying there, lifeless. They always ended in the same manner, his dreams of late. He was helpless; there was never anything he could do to save her from reencountering her violent end.

Idiot girl, throwing herself out there, he thought, raising a hand to his eyes. He saw again the attack aimed at Priest Set while simultaneously hearing her words, "…I believe one day we can meet again…"

No, he thought, no more.

He lifted his face from the tear-stained pillow and climbed out of bed. Touching the lamp on his bedside table, he set his eyes on the three cards lying facedown beneath its golden glow. He couldn't bear to look at them anymore, not when all he saw in them was her.

There was only one thing to do. His heart heavy and his head throbbing, he slid the cards into his grasp and strode across the room to the desk on the opposite wall.

He lingered over the desk for a moment, reconsidering his decision, before unlocking the ornamental wooden puzzle box and carefully laying the cards in its center compartment. The blocks were then slid back in place, shutting away his last physical ties to her memory.

A/N: This would take place about 9 months after Kisara awakens in Faded. Icon used is found from Google. Props to the original artist.