Disclaimer: Don't own YuGiOh.
Why do I even bother anymore?
Nobody needs me. Nobody would even really care if I were gone. Maybe I can save the cook some time and try out that new butcher knife for her. I'm sure it would slide easily enough across my wrists. Sure, go ahead and tell me suicide won't solve anything. Go ahead and say it.
You're wrong.
It would solve everything. Suicide means to kill one's self. Death is release. I long for it, honestly I do. Life is more of a prison than anything else. It always has been. At least ever since my parents died. I mean, come on. Who really gives a shit about me anymore?
Mokuba you say?
You're wrong again. Mokuba doesn't need me, not now. Sure he might have a year or two ago but no longer. He's with Honda and as much as I hate to admit it that's where he's better off. He's with him now while I'm here alone in the mansion. I'm just… there now. I've brought him up well. Too well. If anything were to happen to me he would be fine still. Maybe a little torn for a while but Honda would fix that and he'd move on.
Mokuba doesn't even know me.
I know you're looking at me funny but it's the truth. He sees the child I was all those years ago. Before Gozarubo and before Duelist Kingdom and before Battle City. He still sees the kind, gentle little boy that was with him in the orphanage.
That boy is dead.
He's buried alive beneath the glaciers and walls that have built up over time. Sometimes I think that I might be able to pull him out, to bring that little boy I used to be back. But no matter how hard I try I know I can't. He is no more and goddamnit I hate him! He was allowed what I am not, to simply ease back into the shadows and die off. The lucky fucker.
I envy him.
I want so badly to be able to do as he's done. To simply be forced back and allowed the serene peacefulness I've tried to get all my life would be paradise. I could float away to a distant Utopia and be freed from the hell I'm confined in. Such a blissful thought.
I don't even know myself.
I can honestly look into the mirror and tell you I have no fucking clue who I'm looking at. That… person in the reflection is not me. I don't know who I am and part of me realizes that I never did. I tried to find an identity for myself but every time I do something else is thrown at me.
Big Brother.
Kaiba.
CEO.
Whore.
Who the fuck is Seto? I'll tell you this now. If you had known then I wish you'd have told me sooner. I won't really be in… the mood to talk after this.
Kaiba Corp. you ask?
Kaiba Corp. is doing fine on it's own. For weeks on end now my presence at the company has been little more that publicity acts. I don't even need to be there anymore and the work that I used to be able to lose myself in for hours is diminishing. Nowadays it's just a paper to sign here and there or an offer to look over. The one thing keeping me from thinking about all of this going is gone.
So now you question dueling?
I hate dueling. I always have. I do it for little more than time wasting. I dueled because I thought that mastering the sport would make me something. It did. But I wanted to be something that I could be proud of. That didn't happen. All I am is some large statue at the top of the mountain that everyone avoids. A boulder that is unmovable but ignored nonetheless.
Yuugi Motou now?
Don't fuck with me. That little bastard is one of the biggest reasons for my dilemma! Sure he saved Mokuba and I a few times and is the only duelist I cannot defeat but I hate him. H-A-T-E. Hate. I hate the fact that he's so kind. I hate the fact that he's got everything with having started with so little. Has everything I've always secretly wanted.
Friends.
Family.
Love.
Talent.
I despise the child more that anything. Well… maybe not anything.
I despise myself even more.
I'm worthless you know, for all my money and riches I have no purpose in life but to be somebody else's toy. Their whore. I always have been. Gozarubo used to tell me that was the only thing I'd ever truly excel in.
He was right.
I'm nothing more than that. All people see me as is a body that can be pounded mercilessly into. Gozarubo saw it first. He showed a few business associates. Even now other partners in business are seeing it. Pegasus saw it but I was able to stop him. He was the only one.
Love?
Love does not exist. It's little more than a fairy tale story people tell each other to give them hope for the future of their pathetic lives. There is no hope. If hope and love really existed then Motou would not have Katsuya. That's right, you heard me. I cared for that annoying blonde mutt. I did. And you know what?
He still hates me.
I told him everything last week. From Gozarubo to my feelings for him and he just stared. He stared at me for so long, those lovely honey eyes welling up with little less than mortification. He stared at me and slowly started shaking his head, backing up slowly. He stared at me as though I'd lost my mind and left it somewhere to rot.
And maybe I did.
Why else would I have done something to incredibly ignorant? I knew before I even told him that he would run. And he did. He ran as fast as those perfect legs could carry him and didn't look back. Not once. You see? It was all this 'Hope' shit that drove me to do it.
I hate hope.
I hate love.
I hate myself. So much. I'm going to end it now. The small cuts along my arms and legs just aren't enough anymore. They were for a while but ever since that day when I'd finally pushed my precious koinu as far away form me as possible while trying to pull him closer…
It's just not enough.
I'm doing it now, walking to the kitchen. I'll be there in a few seconds. Everything will be over with soon. I'll finally have my Utopia. That peaceful slumber I've thought about every night for so long. It's finally going to happen. Sure it'll hurt at first, it does, but then it will melt into the same welcoming blissfulness I get every time.
Every time.
The blade glints malevolently as I pull it from the knife holder, the silver flashing in the florescent lighting of the kitchen. It's beautiful. I set the sharp edge to my inner arm, just beneath the elbow area and press down, pulling the blade across the skin and delighting in the crimson that gushes out.
The pain isn't there.
Call me sadistic but all I can feel is this alien happiness bubbling up inside of me as I watch the thick liquid drip off my arm and onto the paper I'm writing on. My hand doesn't even shake though I just sliced the arm connected to it. I laugh to myself and I know the sound is that of a madman but it feels good to let it out.
So good.
I guess this is where it all comes to an end. I certainly can't write while I slit my wrists so I guess I'm just forced to end this letter before hand.
So be it.
I love you Mokuba, even if you've never met the real me.
I love Katsuya, even if you're as disgusted with me as I am with myself.
I hate you Yuugi, I always have and even in the afterlife I always will.
I hate everything on this damn planet but the two people mentioned above. They were the only things I had left and they are both long gone. Sayonara you fucked up hell called life.
Sayonara.
- Someone people called Seto Kaiba.
Vera: …o0 …… well that was angsty. Don't ask where it came from people! ^^; I have nooo idea!
Yami Vera: Something not super-sickeningly-sweet… I liked it.
Vera: ^^; Riiiight… okies well. Tell me what you thought about it I
guess. 0o It was short and came outta nowhere but.. hey, whatever ^_-