I'm…

AN: I had a craving for a very specific fic and I wasn't bothered enough to search because I knew nothing in the archive would suit my very specific craving so I thought I'd do it myself because I wouldn't fuck it up bUT GUESS WHAT!? I fucked it myself. ((But made it arguably better))

There was no other day available for this opportunity so Seto reluctantly took it. He glided into his room; head held high and his thoughts steady but blank. He opened his bedroom and took to his desk. It was a beautiful mahogany piece of furniture. His entire life – professional, hobbyist, everything – was hidden throughout its drawers in the forms of pen, paper, books, and other assorted stationary and knickknacks. Perfectly organised and arranged but recently, Seto had recently installed a grand and ornate mirror. Not a speck of dust on it: only his reflection.

He sat down at his desk and pulled out his cards. He had arranged the deck earlier so his prized Blue-Eyed White Dragons were there on the table to bear witness and protect. Seto was here to have a very serious discussion with himself.

It seemed silly but he needed his beloved dragons there. They blankly stared at the ceiling but it meant the world to Seto. They were his guardians. Here, in this instance, he was protected and he could let his walls down to let a little bit of peace into his fortress.

Seto met his eyes in the mirror. He swallowed. The face he was shown did not feel like his own. He looked a mess but that was not reflected. He saw himself in his highest form: cleanly, well rested, boastful… beautiful. That's not how felt. That's not how thought he saw himself.

Seto cleared his throat.

'I'm…'

The hard, blue eyes that stared back to him intimidated him. They rendered him speechless. He couldn't do it. Not now. Not today. But he only had today. He huffed. The reflection seemed to mock him; make fun of his cowardice. So, Seto did the reasonable thing; he broke away from the mirror.

He swivelled his chair around so he faced the window. Only in his peripheries could he see himself. The reflection held no power over Seto anymore. Not quite gone but the man he used to be seemed to have disappeared. He could see the tiredness in his reflection now; the stray hairs and grey under his eyes. He swallowed. He did not try again.

This was the first time Seto had designated time to this pursuit of thought. Normally, it wandered into his brain like a thick and evil mist that he had to defend himself from. He would do anything to get it out of his head. He'd cut it off before it could spread its heinous tendrils and lead him down a dangerous and foggy path. He'd escape it before it could consume him.

But now?

He welcomed it. He would not allow it to masquerade as anything heinous or despicable any longer. It was a part of him and… and he accepted that. He would not vilify it any longer.

Seto took a deep breath. He was going to do this, he was going to do this right. As he was out of touch with this part of himself, he would merely have to start from the beginning. Find the root cause and trace it throughout his life. He would do anything just so long as it meant peace within himself.

He had little to no memory beyond the orphanage. So, he would start there.

There had been no place in Seto's childhood for frivolities but he heard the rhymes and games. Girls had cooties, the immature ones would snicker. Seto paid no heed to it. His time and attention was connected to something far greater than immaturity and misconceptions. But still, even then he could see no merit in prescribing the girls of the orphanage more germs than boys. Besides, the boys were always dragged through mud and other dirty things. Wouldn't it make more sense for the girls to spread rumours about the boys having cooties?

It didn't make sense. It still doesn't make sense.

To be fair, he wasn't that sort of person. He was a critical thinker and a tinkerer. He wanted to take things apart and rebuild them in the vein he believes to be perfection.

So, Seto moves on. Of course, there wouldn't be any attraction in his childhood. He didn't have the luxury to like anyone once upon. Not that his adolescence was much better. He isolated himself from anyone who couldn't further his goals and obsessed over what made him feel powerful.

He didn't think of anything back then. Only power, greed, money: not the normal things adolescents would be thinking of but he didn't have the chance to be normal. Not when his father wanted to use him as a vessel of artificial intelligence and then, later, of human ambition extending far beyond what is expected of one.

Seto hadn't had the chance to meet others and bond platonically; let alone romantically.

And then, he travels through his mind, to his late adolescence where he's just about to breach adulthood. Yes, that's when he started putting pieces together.

There was no one. Not anyone he bonded with 'normally' like you would see on television. No, Seto lusted for close bonds marked by… well, not affection in the generally considered way: hand holding, kissing. He just wanted someone to be there for him. A partner but not a romantic or sexual partner. Just… a very good friend.

Yes, Seto did go onto make very good friends and his very good friends went on to make other bonds between themselves. Bonds that Seto had no interest in as they didn't pique his feelings or elicit any to begin with.

With a heart slowly coming to light, the part of him once misted over lessened. Seto turned around so he could face himself once more. He steeled his reserve. This was the least confrontational thing he had ever been involved with and yet, it terrified him.

His palms sweated and his heart raced. He could hear it like he was a drum. Steady and loud. He took another breath. It felt unseemly. He licked his lips.

'I'm…. Asexual. Aromantic.' he announced to himself.

Pride welled up inside of him just like his tears on the edge of his eyes. He felt disproportionately relieved and happy. It was just a simple fact. He thought therefore he was.

A weak smile tugged at Seto's lips and he abandoned the seat at his dresser. His coat flapping behind him; he caught a glimpse of himself. Ever so pompous but he did not mind. That was just another part of himself. Confident. He deserved to be. He was allowed to be. That weak smile strengthened.

Seto collected himself by the window. It seemed almost cage-like now with the way the panes slashed through like a plus symbol. He pushed up the locks and the glass swung away from him. It cleared the view. He'd never noticed how wide and blue the sky was. It was lovely. A little chilly, perhaps, but splendid nonetheless as he felt the wind caress his face.

'I'm…'

His words crumbled before him but it didn't matter. The world didn't need to know. Only him.

:

AN: Anyways… if anyone knows any good Kaiba-centrics about him being gay without mentioning slash (but I will lower my standards because I lowkey ship Atem/Kaiba but ssshhh) and without coming across as fetish-y or whatever, I would love some recommendations.