The Reason
Disclaimer: Okay...I do not own yuugiou. I wish I did, but I sadly do not. Nor do I own the band or album I'm using for this story. Come on, Takahashi and Hoobastank deserve the credit for that stuff. Oh well. But in this story, there are some things I own. Like Victoria, for example. She's my original. And yeah, you're probably all going "GASPU! MARRY-FUCKING-SUE!" And to you, I laugh. Surprisingly, the chicka would fit amazingly well into the real storyline anyways. But regardless of that, if you read this, you can easily pick out who she is. But I'll tell you anyways It's Kaiba's little, 16-year-old sister. Okay... Any other originals I use are mine or Helen's, just so you know. SO LOVE THEM! Or something like that... Yeah.
Rating: Well, it's rated at an R. Why, you ask? I kinda of have a bit of a violence fetish, for one; and almost every story I produce has suicidal themes, shitkicking, rape, language, and other nasty thingies. Sorry, but it's just the way I write. :D
Summary: What happens when your not-so-perfect life is torn to shreds, and you're left alone to pick up the pieces? Will you be embraced by the light and find your purpose, or will the darkness swallow you whole.
(Shitty summary, I know. Shut up. ; Some things about this are twisted from the manga/shows true reality...so bear with me, okay? )
Author's notes: Yeah, I explained most of my ranting in the disclaimer, really...So...Enjoy the story, or something. I'm only updating if Helen says it's worthwhile, or a bunch of you do.
Chapter one:
Same Direction
Maybe he's right...
Victoria sighed, indolently rapping her fingers against her desk's sleek wooden surface. Being alone was probably the brunette's biggest fear, yet she always ended up that way; left for dead by the people she cared about the most. She wasn't sane enough to be deserted, it made her feel so worthless, so insignificant, so...numb.
Of course, the blame didn't rest solely on the shoulders of her loved ones. In fact, most everything they did happened because of something Victoria had done— the self injury, the obsessive drinking, the violent mood swings...all of it seemed to push people to their breaking points.
But it wasn't her fault. How could it be? She didn't ask to be blessed with her wretched past. She didn't drop down to her knees and plead to be orphaned, beg to be taken in by a monster, pray to god that she could be such a useless whore. Those were just little 'gifts' bestowed upon her by a higher power.
There was no way in hell her oh-so blatant longing for the grave could be a direct result of her own ignorance. There was just no way. How could anyone call her ignorant when it was proven, time and time again, that she was so...right.
People in her family just weren't meant to be happy. That was reality. That was fate; and no matter what one may want, fate and desire are not interchangeable.
She slid her hand off the desk, knocking a few empty pill bottles off the shined surface. The bottles hit the ground, rolling down the slanted floor and scattering. Ten empty bottles, 250, 000 Mg's of acetaminophen, 62.5 times the recommended daily dosage. If that didn't do some damage, what the fuck would?
Then again, maybe I'm right...
With a soft, dejected whimper, she glanced around the empty classroom apathetically; eyes focusing on the dozens of posters that lined the powder blue walls. Most of the pin-ups featured foreign films--- Resident evil, The Butterfly effect, and even that shitty movie about the talking white rat, Stuart Little. It was funny, really, how a Japanese Media Studies course could so readily endorse North American pop culture. Not that it mattered much, though; seeing Ashton Kutcher beaming at you everyday almost made going to class worth it. Almost.
Her gaze shifted from picture to picture, until finally she just turned her attention to the open window. The wind was whipping the navy, crush velvet curtains around in a vicious manner, sending them dancing around malevolently. Every so often, the zephyr would draw back, swallowing the wind and sending the drapes crashing against the desks adjacent to the void.
Outside was a milkshake of gooey despondency; Domino seemed to be blanketed, smothered by an unyielding blackness. Thick, bubbly ebon clouds drifted through the screaming sky, swelled to the point where they seemed as if a small prick would burst them like a balloon. The crisp afternoon air reeked of smoke, which was weird, considering most of the inner city wasn't factory run.
There was a soft growl amidst the clouds, signifying the starts of a long-brewing storm. Within seconds, the wind had picked up, and dazzling bolts of lightning thundered towards the ground. It was eerily beautiful, really.
Victoria had always found storms to be quite enticing, especially when she felt as though the tempest was raging just for her; like the nausea writhing inside her chest crashed down upon the world in bright, jagged flashes of lightning; like the ceaseless roar of the heavens couldn't ebb until her heart was at peace.
She didn't care if the notion was silly. It made her feel better.
Who knows and who cares, I guess. I'll know sooner or later. But I've got no patience for this anymore...
Slowly, she rose from her chair; both hands slipping behind her back. Mumbling gently into the silence, she curled her twitching fingers around the hilt of her dagger. Victoria allowed a grin to light up her otherwise spiritless face, pulling up on the small, golden blade she'd tucked under her belt an hour before. Within seconds, the shimmering weapon was pressed against her wrist.
Ah, the Sennen dagger. How she loved to have its ice-cold tip digging into her flesh. In all honesty, the blade itself seemed to be crafted simply to kill with. It's razor edge could slice through just about anything; much better than a lousy kitchen knife. But not only that, the sheer mechanics of the glistening blade were mind boggling— not only was it powerful, it was gorgeous.
Strangely enough though, its complete and utter perfection wasn't the only amazing thing about the hunk of gold. There was a genuine mystique about the weapon. After all, the thing brought regular Magic And Wizards cards to life. But not only did it do that, it allowed the owner to transfer physical damage to another person of their choosing.
Oh, and above all else, the dagger played host to a rather nasty spirit — a slave under the pharaoh in ancient times by the name of Sira.
Sira...what kind of name was Sira for a fucking yami? Yeah, it was an Egyptian name; at least her mother had held true to that. But the name meant lady, and Sira certainly wasn't a lady No lady in their right mind would ever act like she did. She was evil, pure evil; and in no way was evil considered 'lady-like'.
Truthfully, though; Victoria wasn't even sure if Sira was worthy of being her darkness. There wasn't enough of a difference between the two girls to justify the title. It wasn't like either one cared how many people they killed, or how many lives they destroyed. Neither had the ability to keep their insanity in check. The only major flaw was Victoria's --- no matter what happened, no matter how tough she could make herself seem, in the end, she was always crying.
Pfft. I'm really tired of trying to quell my addictions... I'm tired of pretending my life can get better... I'm just... tired...
It didn't matter anyways, especially since Sira wasn't going to be her problem soon. The second Victoria freed herself from the shackles of her miserable existence would be the second Sira stopped living. Being the host had a lot of power, really; one small, pitiable action could easily send the yami spiraling towards an inevitable doom. Of course, that concept worked in reverse, too...
Victoria scoffed. She quickly drove the tip of the knife into herself, watching the blood swell as she dragged the blade all the way up to her elbow and back again. Vertical cuts always worked much faster than horizontal ones. What was the fun in splitting one tiny vein in half, when you could just as easily split an artery right down the middle?
Idly pressing her thumb against her laceration, Victoria giggled; watching the blood drain from her arm and drip down to the ground. A small puddle began to form beneath her, crimson liquid seeping along the pristine white floor.
God, blood was so... arousing.
After a few minutes, she spun on her heels; leisurely sauntering over to the door, dagger still clutched in her hand. Victoria gripped the handle, twisting it gently. Still locked. She smiled.
I'm done with the lectures... I'm done trying to follow the examples you've set. I don't care if you are right. I need to figure this out on my own...
Her emerald eyes glazed over slightly as she made her way back to her desk, sitting a top it. Quietly, Victoria yawned and began tossing the dagger back and forth, from hand to hand, until she finally just drove the blood varnished blade into her other wrist. The pain felt good. It always did, at least for a little while. She loved the feeling of hot, fresh blood leaking from her self inflicted wounds. She loved the smell, the colour; hell, even the taste of it made her weary with delight.
It was all about punishment. If she didn't hurt herself, she couldn't learn to stop being a worthless whore.
She could learn to make people love her.
And yes, I love you, Ryou... I do. But this is too much. If it's meant to be, then it's meant to be...If not, then I'll rest in peace.
Victoria swallowed hard, dropping the knife to the floor. All she had to do was wait. Lunch would be over in about half an hour, and that was just about enough time to render the damage irreversible. She hopped off the desk, heading over to the window; gently taking a handful of the curtains in one hand. With a fair bit of haste, she swabbed the mess from her arms; clearing the area for a new, twisted little game.
Sighing heavily, she tossed the bloodstained drapes aside, sliding across the floor and picking up her Sennen item. She laughed a little, staring around at her surroundings as she attempted to hold the blade steady. Her fingers rejected the dagger's weight the first time she grasped the hilt, forcing her to drop it and try again. On her second attempt, however, she'd managed to grip it properly.
I need to prove to myself this is real...We're both falling towards an inescapable hell; so, I'm just gonna take this one last chance, and see if we can fly.
"He loves me," she whispered dangerously, cutting a thin line across the underside of her lower arm. She lowered the dagger half an inch, starting another incision, "he loves me not."
Again, Victoria dropped the dagger down another half an inch, tearing another line into her flesh, and then another, and another.
"Ryou loves me," she breathed.
And another...
"Ryou loves me not."
Victoria trailed bloody tally mark after bloody tally mark down her arm; stopping only when her fingers, numb from her weakening state, released their hold on the shaft. The dagger fell to the floor, sending a deafening CLANG echoing throughout the room.
She chuckled ever-so sweetly into the nothingness, dropping to her knees with a smile. Gently, Victoria wrapped her arms around her body, allowing a few tears to trickle down her cheeks. She felt cold, almost as if the blood she hadn't spilled was slowly turning to ice.
You do love me
Her vision was starting to blur slightly, outlines of the room's furniture splitting into doubles. How much blood could she havepossibly lost over the course of lunch? Her wrists only had one single cut a piece, though they were a bit...overly deep; and a couple lousy cut marks couldn't be making her so wary.
The pills must've been kicking in...
Trembling, Victoria relinquished the hold she had on herself; falling forward. Surprisingly, she managed to catch herself with her hands; straining to keep her breathing regulated. It hurt...something about her miserable actions hurt. She could feel her insides burning with an intense rancor, while on the outside, all she could do was shiver.
And I think I may have just made a mistake...
A few minutes passed before her arms gave way, sending her face-first into the freezing floor. She clawed at the linoleum tiling desperately, in an attempt to bring herself back to her feet. But it was no use. She definitely wasn't going anywhere; save, perhaps, hell.
"It's too bad that now, it's probably too late," she murmured feebly, eye's fluttering shut.
If this is fate, then fine...The game beat me. I'll see you when you're beaten, too.
But if it's not, if somebody walks through that door, --- and I really am hoping it's you--- and saves me...then you win...I'll know I was wrong.
Let's just...wait and see, okay? If my ways right, or if yours is right; I'll meet you in the end, either way.
I love you, Ryou. Prove me wrong...
Victoria's mind was so drowned by her thoughts that she didn't hear the key turning in the door, mere seconds after she'd collapsed...
The door creaked open, revealing the reddened classroom to the tall, brown-haired youth who'd dared to step forth into it. The sapphire eyed intruder glanced around the room, eyeing the blood coated floor with weak disgust. Slowly, he turned his attention to the immobile girl stretched out across the ground; biting down hard on his lip when he noticed who it was.
Seto walked over to her, falling to one knee and poking his younger sibling in the arm rather tenaciously; hoping that, by some small miracle, the girl would respond.
But she didn't...
"Victoria?" he whispered, moving his hand to her ribs and prodding her gently. "Hey, Victoria?"
Still, Seto remained unanswered.
"Victoria, get up," Seto groaned, hand dropping from the girl's chest. He slid both arms beneath her, lifting the girl up and off the bloodstained floor. Victoria winced a little, coughing up a minuscule amount of blood as he began to shake her carefully.
"Ow," Victoria hissed.
"Well, at least you're awake," Seto breathed, shifting his grip on her as he made his way over to the large, dusty desk at the head of the class. With one hand holding her up, he cleared the desk completely; sending papers and writing utensils flying to the floor. Sighing heavily, he dropped her on the empty desk.
Victoria just moaned as her back made contact with the hard surface. After a few moments, she opened her eyes to stare up at her brother in annoyance. She couldn't move, it hurt too much. Her entire body felt as though an invisible force was pulling her down, pinning her to the ground eternally. Yup...The pills were definitely kicking in.
"You okay?" Seto asked, almost as an afterthought.
"Fine, nii-san. Perfectly fine," she growled indignantly.
The older boy frowned, shrugging his trench coat off and folding it in his lap. Somewhat hastily, he pulled off his raven turtle neck; holding it front of him and shredding the material into strips with a pocket knife. It was so great that uniforms had been outlawed at the highschool from previous riots--- except for the fact you had to wreck your own clothes, of course.
Why was it always him, anyways? Why the hell did healways have to find his little sister, one of the only people that he'd bothered to love, broken and bleeding? It was getting old, really old; and Seto's patience for her was wearing thin.
"Next time," Seto hissed, "Mr. Takahashi can fix his own fucking DVD player."
Almost violently, he wrenched his sister up and to a sitting position; one hand clasped around her arm, the other wrapping it with pieces of his shirt. She grimaced in protest as he covered the bleeding wounds, but otherwise, did nothing to hinder Seto in his attempt to keep her alive.
"You need a fucking hospital, Victoria," Seto murmured as he finished wrapping one arm. With a bit of a sigh, he started on the other one. "You've bled too much."
Victoria shook her head, ripping her arm free just as Seto had finished with it. She allowed herself to fall onto her back again, staring up at the ceiling with blank eyes.
"I don't need a hospital, Seto. I'm fine."
Blinking a bit, he looked at his sister, then around the room. It was true, she hadn't lost thatmuch blood. Not enough to make her so weak, anyways; at least, not when she was so used to blood loss. She couldn't sit up, which meant she definitely couldn't stand... What the hell was draining her so quickly?
Seto found his answer when his gaze fell upon an empty bottle of Tylenol...
"How many bottle did you clear, Victoria?"
"Ten," she said dolefully, attempting to roll onto her side. Victoria felt as though she weighed a ton, which was horrifically ironic, considering how tiny she was. "5'5 and only 96lb, Victoria was even scrawnier than her older brother by a long shot; and if you added the fact that her hair fell to her ankles...well, it was a little ignorant to think that her brown tresses didn't add at least a little weight.
He simply shook his head, unfolding his trench coat and dropping it over her. She coughed weakly, shuddering as the cotton ensnared her in it's warmth.
"You need a hospital, Victoria," grumbled Seto.
"Yeah, I probably do," she suspired.
Seto's frown deepened as his hand dropped to her forehead, wiping the frigid sweat from her brow. Victoria shivered. She was steadily getting worse, even her eyes felt heavy. She wanted to close them. She wanted to close them forever.
"Yurushite kudasai, nii-san," Victoria whimpered, trying to move again. With an insanely strained heave, she managed to roll over. However, her body tipped over the edge of the desk and, unable to stop herself in time, she plummeted to the floor; smacking hard against the cold, slippery tiles.
Seto scoffed, "why the fuck should I forgive you?"
"Because I'm sorry?"
"You're not..."
"I can't move..."
"Good, you can't do anything if you're immobile."
"Help?"
"Why should I?"
"Aishiteru, Seto..."
Seto bit down on his lip, chewing it softly and glancing down towards the floor. His eyes widened slightly, and he stood up; kneeling beside his younger sibling. Gently, he picked her up, cradling the 16-year-old in his arms. He couldn't stop himself from helping her now, it wouldn't be right...Not after she'd professed her love for him. And she was his sister, after all—what kind of brother would he be if he just let her lie there dying?
"Come on, you'll be alright," he cooed.
"I'm...really sleepy, Seto," she groaned.
"Try to stay awake, okay?"
"I can't..."
"Try..."
Seto carried her out into the hall, looking around the empty hallways placidly. They had at least another five minutes before the rush. Class wasn't due to start for another ten, after all; and most people usually occupied themselves in the cafeteria until they had to drag themselves to third period.
Cautiously, he crept down the halls, heading towards the main entrance with a great deal of stealth. He wanted to make it out before he was spotted, before someone could gather up the courage to question why, exactly, he was carrying his motionless little sister around school without even a shirt on.
It was really too bad he never made it to the doors, though. With a quiet giggle, Mazaki Anzu snuck up on Seto; jumping out in front of him just as he'd reached the huge double doors.
"Whatareyou doing, Kaiba-san?" Anzu asked happily.
"None of your fucking business...Move," snarled Seto.
Mazaki blinked a few times, eyeing Seto for a few moments before turning her attention to Victoria. Casually, she placed a hand on her hip, raising her other hand to her mouth and staring thoughtfully at the younger Kaiba.
"Kaiba-san," she muttered, "What happened to your sister? Who shitkicked her this time?"
"Nobody fucking shitkicked her, Mazaki. Now move."
"Then what happened?"
"It's none of your business!"
Seto lifted Victoria up a bit higher, shifting her weight to one arm. Glowering venomously, he placed his free hand against Anzu's shoulder, shoving her forward and through the doors. The short-haired brunette
fell back, landing on her ass as Seto walked past her; still holding his sibling up with one arm.
"Kaiba-san! This is ! You get back here!" Mazaki screamed, quickly jumping to her feet to take off after them. "I only want to help! Why're you so...so cold!"
Victoria's body quivered as Seto re-dispersed her weight between his arms. She was definitely worsening. Why the fuck did Anzu have to keep wasting time? Why couldn't the stupid cross-dressing man whore take off and be with her own friends. It wasn't as if Mazaki even cared for Seto, let alone Victoria; she was just around to be nosy.
Gritting his teeth, Seto spun on his heels, turning to glare at Anzu as he growled, "Go away. Go the fuck away you stupid, ugly, annoying bitch. I don't have time to waste, especially on drag queen's, such as yourself."
"What? How dare you, Kaiba-san! How dare you speak to me like that!" Anzu screeched, curling her hands into fists and stamping her foot against the ground. "I'm only trying to help!"
Seto shrugged, walking over to his sister's brand new Infiniti G35 — which was parked rather haphazardly in the teacher's lot— and sighing. He quickly dug a hand into the pocket of her jeans, withdrawing Victoria's car keys and opening the passenger's side door.
Carefully, he lowered her into the car; leaning down and adjusting the seat to fall back so she could be a bit more comfortable. Victoria flinched, coughing up a fair bit of blood as Seto tightened the seatbelt around her limp body.
"Goddamn fucking Mazaki," Seto sneered, closing the door and making his way around the car. He quickly climbed into the drivers seat, shoving the keys in the ignition and twisting them to the side.
Anzu ran a hand through her greasy hair, stepping towards the car and slamming her fist against the window. She narrowed her large, overly expressive blue eyes to Seto; mouth twisted with an almost feral rage.
"Kaiba, you apologize to me! And you do it right now!" Mazaki cried.
Victoria coughed again, trying desperately to get onto her side. Blood was welling up in her throat, and it was getting harder and harder to keep from choking on it. But she couldn't move. She just couldn't gather enough strength to lift her body up, even a little, and roll over.
With a bit of a groan, Seto looked at Victoria wearily; eyes sparkling with an almost impossible trepidation as he raised a hand to the steering wheel. He closed his fingers around it, eyeing Mazaki through the black-tinted window.
He bit his lip, twitching slightly as his foot made contact with the gas pedal. The car hummed sweetly, starting to move against the sudden onrush of fuel. The vehicle started to pull forward torpidly, speed gradually increasing as he applied more pressure to the accelerator. A slight smile lit up Seto's face as the car pushed forward, nearing the parking lot's exit.
Shifting his foot to lightly tap break, Seto rather suddenly swerved the car around; twisting the steering wheel to the right almost savagely. The headlights shone in Mazaki's eyes, temporarily blinding her as the car window lazily made it's decent.
Seto laughed, his foot moving back over to the gas. He waited a few seconds before slamming his foot down hard, causing the car to purr euphorically as it lurched ahead, aimed right at the cowering bitch before him.
Anzu stared blankly at the crimson vehicle aimed at her, shocked to the point where she couldn't even move. Her normally cheerful eyes widened, fear etched across her face. Almost instinctively, her hands flew up to her face, clasping together instantly as if she were offering one final prayer to whatever god she cared to worship.
Grinning wildly, Seto rammed his foot against the accelerator with all his strength. The car bolted forward, tires squealing against the thick cement pad beneath them. Within a few seconds, the front bumper had slammed into Mazaki's trembling form; forcing her body to fly back into the wall of the highschool. Anzu let out an ear-splitting scream upon impact, tears pouring down her face as a resounding CRUNCH reverberated in the damp air.
Seto snarled, throwing the car into reverse and backing away a bit. He slipped his hand out the window, fingers quivering as he gathered a little rainwater in his palm. Giggling almost idiotically, he slipped his hand through his messy brown hair and observed her crumpled body.
"Yeah, you like that, don't you, Mazaki?" He chuckled, forcing the gear shift ahead and hitting the gas again. The Infiniti sprung into action, flying towards the motionless girl relentlessly. Anzu, benumbed by her own dread, shook; a single hand falling to her broken rib cage.
The vehicle stopped inches from where the front bumper would have severed her neck. The front tires rested upon Mazaki's legs, the car's entire weight mashing her bones to dust. She screamed, hollered, cried for someone to help her, for someone to save her from the madman who was so very close to adding another name to Domino's ever growing obituary.
"Well, Mazaki," Seto laughed maniacally as he poked his head out the car window. "Are we still going to be a tenacious whore? Do we still want to help?"
She gulped, attempting to shake her head. But she couldn't— the vehicle was pressed far to tightly against her neck to even allow the slightest movement.
Seto chuckled, backing the car up leisurely. He lifted a hand to his mouth, drifting into thought for a moment or two. He wanted to attack her again. He wanted to kill the bitch for wasting his time. But he also had to help his sister...and if he couldn't do that, Anzu's death wouldn't have held any meaning whatsoever.
His gaze dropped to Victoria. She was having a lot of trouble breathing, and a deep, scarlet liquid seeped from her open mouth. Her body was drenched in her own blood. Even the torn material he'd used to secure her wounds was already bleeding through.
Seto had to go, and he had to go now if he wanted to have any chance of saving her.
The car spun around rather sluggishly, heading towards the school's front gates. On the upside, it was a good day for Domino High. At least in the sense that, if Mazaki did manage to survive the collision, she'd be left broken up for quite some time. On the downside, he'd wasted a little too much time punishing Anzu...
Seto flinched a little, snaking the car out of the lot and onto the highway.