If only I hadn't read over my sister's shoulder than I wouldn't have a need to write this piece. But unfortunately I did, so here we are. I got the idea from what I believe was someone's true story only I altered it, because I don't want to use someone's real personal experience. However, the idea of why the boy did what he did is common in this practice— and speaking of self injury, there's your warning.

Anyways, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! And seeing as this is a rather serious piece… I have nothing more to say. Um… I don't suppose "enjoy" would be the right term? Well, you all know the drill: read and review please. Help benefit the author.


And This Makes It Real

Seto sat at his desks with long, ivory fingers sitting on top of the keyboard motionlessly. His blue eyes glazed over as he stared at the screen's flashing white indicator reminding him that he had work to do. But he couldn't concentrate.

Two of his employees stood outside his office on a temporary timeout sipping blazing coffee slowly (he really needed to tell them to stop hanging outside his office; they were always distracting him from one thing or another). And as usual, they were conversing about random topics which had pulled Kaiba from his train of thought. But he had never made it to the door to yell at them and by now they were probably gone. Instead, Kaiba had wandered back over to his desk and slowly sank down into the chair behind it.

The conversation hadn't fully reached his ears until he walked to the door with malignant intentions. His hand trembled at the door knob as he heard their words fully, "—yeah, it's been a full year now."

"What has been?" asked the other husky-voiced man, slurping his coffee noisily.

"Why since Gozaburo committed suicide!" the man proclaimed in mock surprise. And those words were the ones to have stopped the almighty Seto Kaiba. And those words were the ones that had made him calmly retreat back to his seat like a child who knows they're in the wrong. And THOSE were the words which caused Kaiba to lose himself in thought.


Kaiba could remember that day well. In fact, he almost dreamed of the incident every night when he closed his eyes. People told him he was too vindictive about his work and that it shouldn't be causing him to stay awake— oh, if only they KNEW. Kaiba was never sure any more if he actually went to bed or if his body shut down sort of like the computers with which he worked.

The dreams, when they came, were more real than that day had been for him. In his dreams— no, nightmares— Kaiba could hear his voice rise and catch in his throat in fear. But he knew the cold smile pasted on his face was telling him to continue on. Reminding him of all the pain, but for that childlike voice in his head screaming so loud he couldn't hear the shock of those around him.

And in the drawer, Seto knew he could find salvation. Yet he didn't want to return back to it. At least, he didn't want to return to it in THAT way.

But his cold hand was resting a shimmering silver key into its place. And twisting mechanically he felt his heart sink more into his growing sadness. He had always kept this drawer locked, so that the dark haired little boy sprawled on the sofa wouldn't know. Smart boy that he was, Kaiba knew he would've figured it all out if Seto wasn't overly cautious.

The blade didn't gleam when he pulled it out from it's cozy home inside a handkerchief that used to be blue. It was too rusted now with his blood to possibly ever gleam again. He knew the blade would be a danger to use, but even his medical team attributed the rust's poison to his frail appearance.

Hovering dangerously close to his now exposed skin, Kaiba inhaled deeply as he recalled past memories.

Gozaburo was a strict man, a selfish man, a hateful man, but that wasn't all. He put Kaiba through a lot of emotional stress as a kid as Kaiba faced torment after torment of brutal studying. The whip being pushed threateningly to his neck scarred him. He pressed his blade to his neck, but knew that would be too obvious and lowered his sanctity back to his left arm.

Seto had never loved the man for those cruel moments in his life. Perhaps the fact that he was still even tied to those memories bothered him. But he was constantly trying to outrun them and nothing worked: not Battle City, not anything.

The older man had made it a point to get at Kaiba not only verbally, but physically. And he knew it was their little secret. It had never been threatened, but Kaiba knew the man had wealth, had power to take Mokuba from him. So Kaiba never made a peep about those nights when Gozaburo's fist would curl up tightly and land into Seto's chest.

He always felt like his heart would stop when it happened, but it never did. Every time Gozaburo needed to hit him, he always started the same way and never had Kaiba been able to overcome this feeling of his heart stopping. He attributed it to the shock. But that feeling had only ever been a feeling and Kaiba had never had the easy road in life.

One cut. Long, but not deep enough to bring up but one or two beads of blood.

It didn't take much from the brusque man to knock Kaiba to the floor and when he was down he would kick him. Funny, how that had become a symbol of his life. In Duelist Kingdom, Kaiba lost his brother and then lost his own soul to a madman. Then in Battle City, Kaiba had his memories reawakened by a trip to the virtual realm and then lost to Yugi, who told him he needed to accept his past. And all of it was always like that. Even with that lunatic Dartz, Kaiba had to hear Amelda's tragic story and then got to be his own little tragedy as his soul was sucked away. Kaiba couldn't get the idea that maybe he didn't have a soul anymore out of his head.

The blade moved again to create a deeper gash which gurgled with blood coming from its lips.

Kaiba had seen the picture of a woman in his father's office once. She had pretty green hair which hung loosely over her shoulders and her smile was so warming that when Kaiba had seen the photo he felt nothing could ever go wrong again. While waiting for his adoptive father to get home, Seto had approached the picture and upon examination he found the name of the woman. And that's how Seto knew Gozaburo did it because he was hurt too. Maybe that's where the fatal connection had sprouted from.

And Kaiba's hair had been dyed a green color similar to the woman's. He thought he knew why. He thought it was because Gozaburo was thinking of her, but only much later did he find out he was being made to look like her son, Noah. In his mind, Seto knew he meant absolutely nothing to Gozaburo but a business proposition.

Another slash only this time it stung and the brunette slapped his hand over the wound in pain. The blood leaked from between his fingers and he watched them fall into the abyss of his black pants.

There was something else though. Seto had never used to cut himself when he was a kid. It had been enough for him to hide himself from the world and cry into the pillow he clutched onto for dear life. And he used to have life, didn't he? Now his eyes were like never ending pools of sadness that had been sucked of life and left hollow except the tears.

But Seto knew were it had finally become a need to living. Gozaburo would sometimes call Seto's name hopelessly as if expecting no answer. And Seto came, at least the first time, reluctantly and full of horrified anticipation. When he cracked the door open to the living room and walked inside the fire-lit place, he was meet differently. Gozaburo pulled him into an embrace and Seto gave in. He was permitted to sit in Gozaburo's lap as the man told him stories or watched a movie with him or even just talked. Kaiba looked forward to those moments in his life of pain, because they were eventually all he could hold on to.

And those few select moments with his father had built up that tiny scream inside his head. That day he watched Gozaburo throw himself from the window, Kaiba knew he meant nothing to the man. Yet that never stopped him from meaning something to the young CEO.

The blood intermingled with tears as Kaiba made his final bleary-eyed cut. He wanted to scream, but he knew no one would listen and he had a promise to protect his younger brother. So Kaiba opted for slipping on to the floor where he cradled his bloody arm. He applied pressure gently so that he could feel again and he knew then what it meant to be every other person in the world.