Okay, I'm an idiot. I managed to forget the disclaimer twice. Well, here it is: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to someone who is not me.

There's also a minor change in here now. Just an age thing that I figured would make more sense later. It might, it might not. Oh well.

And one more thing, for future reference. In this fic, I suppose I'm sort of mashing the anime and manga together. I'm using English dub names, Japanese anime timeline (Seto was adopted when he was 10, and is therefore 16 when all that insane crap happens), and some of the manga plot points (Gozaburo's suicide).

If you've already read this, and are just rereading to see if I made any major changes, don't bother. I just made up my mind about the ending, so I needed to fill in a couple of future plotholes.

The Insanity of the Last Days

Prologue, Part One: Dealing With Death

Death glanced up at the clock tower. It was twenty-seven past three. Four minutes left.

3:28

3:29

3:30

3:30:49

3:30:52

3:30:57

3:31:00

3:31:02

It was at that very moment that a blue sedan hit a patch of ice, and careened out of control.

3:31:07

A scream that would've blown Death's eardrums had Death been alive rang out.

3:31:11

Death drifted forward quickly, and found the boy. Death extended a hand, and gripped the boy's hand, pulling his spirit out of his body.

'Hey, what's going on?' the boy asked.

'So, you're Seto?' Death inquired, pen hovering over clipboard to cross off the boy's name.

'Yes, that's me. Who are you?'

'I am Death. And I'm here to tell you that your life has ended. It is my job to welcome you to the next state.'

'State?'

'I suppose you could call it the next life, but that's not quite right, since your life is over, but whatever.'

'Wait just a second!'

Death looked up, startled by the boy's outburst, and dropped the pen. 'What?'

'I can't be dead! I won't be dead!'

'Oh, don't worry. You'll get used to it. Besides, your parents are waiting. Don't you want to see them?' Death said, hoping to bribe him over to the other side.

'Well, yeah, I do - '

'Then what's the problem?' Death inquired, cutting Seto off.

'Hey! I wasn't done talking!'

'Oh, weren't you? I don't see what else you have to say.'

'That's because I haven't said it yet, bitch!'

'You really shouldn't swear. How old are you? Twelve, wasn't it?'

'And three months!'

'Oh, yes, that makes such a big difference.'

Seto shot Death a glare. 'Anyway, as I was saying, I can't die yet! I need to keep my promise to Mokuba! He needs me now more than ever now that we're stuck with Gozaburo!'

'Gozaburo Kaiba, right? Well, if it makes you feel better, he'll be dead in... hmm, let me see...' Death flicked through the clipboard. 'Oh, here he is. Three years.'

'I can't wait that long for him to drop dead!'

'Sure you can, kid. Now come on, let's go.' Death replied, kneeling down and picking up the fallen pen.

'I'll make you a deal!' Seto pleaded desperately.

'Oh?' Death paused, interested.

'Give me time... just a few years, to take care of loose ends and... unfulfilled promises.'

'What's in it for me?'

'I... I don't know...' Seto looked down, hopelessness threatening to overwhelm him.

'Tell you what, Seto, I'll give you a couple more years, and you can have your adoptive daddy drop by a little earlier than scheduled, hmm? How does that sound?'

'You want me to kill him?'

'More or less, yes.'

'More or less?'

'Ensure that he dies, using whatever means necessary.'

'How long?'

'To kill Gozaburo, one year. To continue living, well, we'll see how those loose ends of yours are going, but no more than six years. Sound fair?'

'It'll have to do, I guess. Okay.'

'Alright then, kiddo,' Death pulled out two sandglasses, one edged with dark wood, and heavily ornamented, the other lighter, and simpler. 'The lighter one is how long you have to ensure Gozaburo comes to me. The other is your life.'

'Oh, uh, thanks?'

'Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now come on, we've got to get you back in your body. Lucky for you I haven't crossed your name off yet.' As if to emphasise this, Death stuffed the pen into the cloak that was dramatically billowing in the imaginary wind.