Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh.
A/N: Yay!! Another Seto/Anzu fic. This idea just randomly formed in my head. It had been swirling around for days but I only just organized it enough to be able to type. I read on Wikipedia, under YuGiOh R! that Anzu had been brutally forced to give up her innocence. Yuugi and Jounouchi had found out and dueled for revenge. The manga chapter was never published because of the maturity of the contents. In this story, however, everyone will be kept in the dark. No one will know what had happened until some point later in the story. This will center on Anzu and how she deals with the situation.
It wasn't fair. She had been utterly foolish to believe that everyone had even an iota of goodness in them; that it was an impossibility to be completely devoid of humanity. The reality had slapped her. Hard. Repeatedly. Literally. Until she saw only the black…without the white.
She'd been exposed to the cruelest actuality; to mankind's dormant savagery, barbarity and bestiality. It was dormant only until given the opportunity to let loose, surface, and scar the unsuspecting victim.
She was the victim. A victim of the harshest abuse, almost impossible to endure. But endure it she had to. She was still alive, however unfortunate it was. She was going to remain alive, unless she chose to commit suicide. She wasn't at that stage quite yet. It wasn't as though the thought wasn't going to present itself, though the spark of temptation had been lit. She was sure it would. When? She was unaware. Perhaps when the truth of her situation, her position, sunk its claws in deep and forced her to face the veracity of it.
Yes, she was currently at the stage where denial seemed to illegitimize the state of affairs. As she walked to her home, where no one but her resided, in torn clothes, skin marred with bruises and scars, there were no traces of tears present. She didn't need to cry. After all, this was just some nightmare. Yes, she was going to wake up and none of this would have existed. She could continue her life as she planned to, as she meant to. Because this, this didn't equate in her, hitherto perfect life at all. If she hadn't foreseen this coming, it wasn't going to ensue, right? No. It wasn't.
It was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. But repeating the phrase in her mind didn't bring the comfort she had hoped. Instead, it made her gut clench with unreasonable, definitely unreasonable, contradictions.
"I'll go home, sleep and wake up to find this non-existent," she muttered to herself in a fierce voice, daring her mind to challenge.
Oh, but it is existing. It will continue to exist. There is nothing you and I can do about this, Anzu. Accept what happened to you tonight and, perhaps, the journey will be a little easier. Her mind did dispute and she hated it. She wasn't going to accept it. Never. She hadn't done anything, anything, to deserve such a punishment.
You're being uncharacteristically selfish, Anzu Do you really believe that other victims of this heinous crime deserved what befell them? The voice sounded eternally disappointed and the impact of the thought that went through her mind hit her like a ton of bricks. Had she really thought that?
You did. She was losing her sanity. She was thinking things she'd never even dreamed of thinking. She trembled in the chilly night air as the school uniform provided only minimal warmth, and that, only to her upper body. Her bare legs soon began to dot with goose bumps. Her bed was calling to her. The sooner she reached her destination, the sooner she could wake up to find this all a subconscious trip to hell.
The denial was still active and carrying its designated job to perfection. Anzu voluntarily turned deaf to the voice that was willing her accept something that never occurred.
"It never occurred, it never occurred, it never occurred," she kept whispering firmly to herself, longing for the reassurance that should've arrived, but didn't. As hard as she attempted to deny it, the inner voice had sown the seed of doubt. But she wasn't going to allow it to grow. She was going to curb it. She had to. Her mentality, her very life depended on it. She was going to lose what tiny shred of hope she was desperately left clinging on. She couldn't, wouldn't permit herself to accept the unacceptable.
So engrossed was she in her convoluted thoughts, that she neglected to observe her entrance into her neighborhood. She was disappointed to discover that the feeling of security that usually accompanied her entry didn't bloom in her chest. Instead, she felt afraid. Never had she ever felt fear such as this before. As hard as she endeavored to fixate her eyesight ahead of her, she felt it dart quickly from side to side, in evident trepidation, and then quickly to the back. The hint of even the smallest of sounds reaching her ear had her wavering. Her distrust of all things living was adding to the stress and her already tumultuous emotions were begging to be released. Paranoia had commenced too quickly, to fast for her to even realize that it had ingrained itself within her.
Upon arriving at her sizable yet modest habitation, she fumbled in her pockets for the keys with quivering hands. Her skin failed to make contact with the metal and she momentarily panicked, searching behind her for any sign of danger with wide, frightened eyes. She had to enter her house to deem herself even a little bit safe. After assuring herself of the absence of another being, she proceeded to clear her mind of its apprehension. Seeking and finding a moment of clarity, she recalled owning a spare key that she kept underneath the pot plant that stood on her front porch. After hastily retrieving it, she placed it in the lock and successfully opened the door with hesitant hands.
Letting another deep breath enter through her parched lips, she searched her immediate vicinity for any sign of misplaced objects. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, and consequently assuring herself that her house hadn't been broken into, she advanced further in her home and towards the stairs.
She was more than disposed to put this day behind her. And never reflect on it again. After all, she still believed it to be nothing more than a vivid nightmare. The foundation, however, had wavered a little.
As she entered her cozy, cream colored bedroom, exhaustion crashed over Anzu in such a painful wave that she overlooked her attire. At that moment, she couldn't be concerned with anything besides her much needed sleep. Carelessly shrugging her shoes of at the edge of the bed, she flopped down on the piece of furniture. She was dead to the world before she could summon the ability to command her arms to cover her with her blanket.
Anzu's bleary sapphire eyes reluctantly opened to the sunlit morning. Glancing sleepily at her alarm clock, she noted the time and looked away…before suddenly snapping her irises towards the object once more. If she wasn't awake before, she sure as hell was now.
Not being able to recollect the events of the night before in the mind that was too preoccupied with her loss of perfect punctuality, she hastily clambered off the bed with the absence of grace that otherwise complemented her every move. Muttering colorful expletives under her breath, she dashed into her bathroom, smiling slightly at the silent invitation her shower presented her with.
Only to stop short as she caught a glimpse of her reflection. She wished fervently that she hadn't. Her once flawless skin sported imperfections that could only be described as bruises. Her once cherry lips were split and swollen. Her hair lacked the luster she was so proud of. It wasn't Anzu Mazaki starring back at her. It was someone else; someone who had been violated; someone whose purity had been snatched in the most torturous manner. Her body was no longer her own.
Recollection after recollection, image after image detailed with lurid clarity suddenly bombarded her mind, pulling her every which way at once. The mantra from the previous night that had kept back the reality, that had become her companion, her friend, disappeared, leaving not a trace behind. She absently ran her fingertips over the bruises and the scars on her reflection, feeling the cool smoothness of the mirror underneath her skin. It should've had a calming effect, had the circumstances not been so dire.
She lifted her fingers from the mirror and hesitatingly, placed them on her face, tracing the ugly discolorations. She ignored the jolts of pain that accompanied her tender touch. The ache from her bruises brought her further inside the realm of reality with such force that she couldn't find in herself the power to break free.
The moment was here. She had to face the actuality, the undeniability of the fact, or completely go insane. The former, however undesirable, at least guaranteed maintenance of some of her sense. So she did, and it wasn't as difficult as she had imagined, or hoped.
She shattered as the long refuted truth pierced itself through her very subconscious. Tears that had longed for freedom spilled over cerulean eyes and marked their eternal territory on her cheeks. Her body shook with unsuppressed sobs as her knees buckled and she slid to the floor of the bathroom. School was forgotten (not like she was of the mind frame to learn anyhow). World was forgotten. Only her pain existed.
"No, no, no. Why?" she whispered ferociously albeit in a broken, raspy voice. Her throat felt tight, constricted. Her breathing was harsh, ragged, the sound interrupted by almost constant sniffles. She neither attempted to dry her tears, nor to wipe the snot that escaped her nose. It was too much to endure.
Grief gave way to rage and in a fit of hysterics, Anzu began scratching her arms with her nails, willing the remnant of the foreign touch to vanish. She ignored the appearance of the red liquid and the sharp sting as her nails continued to inflict further damage her soft skin. She didn't care. Not anymore.
She knew not how long she remained on the floor, shaking, trembling, weeping. Her eyes felt dehydrated so she deduced that her tears had ceased a while ago. The ache, now much more acute, lingered and she could safely assume that it always would. It was improbably, nay impossible for her to be the person she once was. She had lost a part of herself, one she would never regain. The fantasies of perfection she had hoped for had been smashed to smithereens.
She had lost her girlish charm, a vital component of her perky personality. She had become a woman before she had been ready.
She stood slowly on wobbly legs, disregarding the dried little puddles of blood on the tiles and the sticky residue on her arms. She stifled her desire to once again look in the mirror, opting instead to shed her clothes and enter the shower.
Turning the knob for hot water and overlooking the stings that erupted when the water made contact with her tender skin, she assembled her chaotic thoughts into an imperfect order and allowed her mind to wander to Yuugi and the boys. She wondered how she was going to face them, not when she felt so filthy…so dirty. She was aware that betraying her secret to her best friends would lead to an absence of normality that she was wishing for. Things would become awkward and she would lose the stability that her boys provided. No, it was better for them to remain in the dark. She would tell them one day, only when she was ready.
She was sure that Yuugi would be worried as to why she failed to show up at school today. She would have to lie and she was conscious of the fact that it would be the first of many. She was already beginning to feel rotten. She had never lied (she wasn't very good) before and was hoping that there would never come a time when she would feel the need to. Her justifications of the reason didn't offer comfort. Yuugi knew her well, too well. She would make herself less transparent by acting as herself as she convincingly could and hope that Yuugi didn't still see through.
Raw. She had scrubbed her skin raw. It was purely an unconscious gesture but she didn't regret it. Grabbing the towel from the rack, she wrapped it around her chest and exited the steamy bathroom, making a mental note to clean up the mess she had created. Sighting her school uniform, she picked it up and decided to wash it later for school tomorrow. She would have to go, no matter how much she didn't want to. The more she missed, the likelier that the boys would be more suspicious. She determined it would be easier and more successful if she lied while they were less concerned. She could at least avoid their well-meant interrogation after her health.
Quickly walking over to the window, she yanked the curtains close, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her bedroom was on the second floor. Moving onto her closet, she absently picked an outfit that was rather conservative, consisting of a pair of jeans and a full-sleeved black shirt. Eyeing her bed, she settled that it would be beneficial to take a nap and temporarily halt her thoughts. Lying down, she once again drifted towards her boys and hoped prayed for the strength she needed to face them with lies.
"Please God, I hope that this doesn't put a dent in our friendship. I need it, now more than ever. Don't, please don't take it away," she murmured fervently with interlocked fingers resting on her bowed forehead. A few more tears spilled unnoticed.
A few blocks away, a tricolored haired, short statured boy with a golden triangle around his neck found his focus wavering from the tedious lecture and frowned. He gazed towards Anzu's seat, eyes glazing over with concern, and tried to ignore the vague sense of foreboding that settled in his stomach.
A few seats away, Seto Kaiba caught the direction of the boy's gaze, interpreted the emotion, and smirked. One crony missing and already he's worried. Their dependency on each other is sickening. Tch, pathetic.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think and no flames, please.