Seto's faltering footsteps sounded as loud as thunder against the shining tiles as he forced himself onward down the hospital wing. The lights seemed to glare down on him, condemning him, as he kept his head bowed with the guilt, and his clinched hands balled deep into the pockets of his trench coat. The material seemed too frail to shield him from the imagined hatred hurled at him from every annoyed look. A harassed admittance secretary had waved him through without so much as a glance. A kindly candy-striper had directed him to the recovery wards, and the distance between Yami's room number and his last few steps seemed remarkably short. The door was slightly open, the silence suddenly brittle to the point of unbearable. Seto stood, wrenched to the ground, and unable to move forward from the fear, and unable to simply turn around from the guilt.
He lay his hand against the indifferent wood, curled fingers into another fist that he shoved deeper against his side, when he saw Yami Moto's name against the plate. He swallowed hard, cobbled together the fragments of his once considerable will, and still lingered.
He heard the shifting of cloth, as somebody in a bed either turned over or sat up. There was a long moment of silence, and then he heard Yami's voice call out, "Who is there?"
Seto swallowed hard, gave an anguished glance to the hallway, and forced himself to enter Yami's room. The room was lit by the single lamp on the side table, and the overhead lights were turned down to a muted sepia.
Seto heard Yami's breath being bitten off by the sudden exhalation of shock. Yami was trembling from the strain of rising from his comfortable nest, as he propped himself up on the pillow upright. Seto flinched, first at the wince of pain, and then in the horrific realization of how much damage he had inflicted on Yami.
Yami's face was a mottled distortion of the bruised and swollen left eye, with the bandaged and crooked nose bent at an odd angle. Seto felt the glare from Yami's good eye like a blow, as Yami's mouth twisted into an uncharacteristic sneer.
Yami relished that bone deep shudder from Seto as he lurched forward, and halted less than three feet from the bedside. They stared at each other, anguish and seething rage mingling into miserable silence. Seto's eyes bulged as they unwillingly slid from Yami's glower to the fractured arm and leg, the casts still resting on pillows, the fingers and toes bloated and purple.
"How is it that you made the mistake, and I'm the one suffering for it, Seto?"
The words were cruel, as Yami's good eye narrowed. Awkwardly, Seto slid his arms over his chest, attempting to shield himself from the torture to come.
It wasn't quite true, Seto was wounded in ways that were not so visible as Yami's broken bones. Seto blanched, opened his mouth to reply and then clamped it shut, wilting even more. Yami noted the flicker of guilt. Seto said nothing. Irritated, Yami winced as he gripped the bedrail in agitation.
"Why are you here?" It was a hissed whisper, snarled out as Yami sighed. Seto looked absolutely stricken as he swallowed hard, and attempted to speak past the sudden boulder lodged in his throat.
Seto bowed his head, as if preparing it for the executioner's ax, with the miserable realization that he really didn't know why he had come here. For absolution? An apology? The words faltered and nearly died when he attempted to answer.
"Nobody would tell me anything about what happened, except that I might have killed somebody, Yami."
Seto's eyes burned with tears as he bonelessly slid into the chair to avoid collapsing on the floor.
"You almost succeeded. " Yami snapped. "My car was airborne, and I landed upside down. They had to cut me out of the vehicle, and I spent 3 minutes in hell wondering if I was going to live. Were it not for the mercy of God, and my seatbelt, you and I would not be talking now."
Seto's face contorted, as Yami continued the horrific recitation of events with indifference to Seto's pain. "Do you have any idea how excruciating three fractured bones are, Seto? Do you know what it's like to be trapped upside down and unable to escape? Mercifully, none of my injuries are permanent, but it will take at least six months for me to regain my mobility, and nobody knows if my injured leg will function enough for me to walk without crutches once the bone is healed."
Seto shuddered, his hands twisting in the confines of his coat pockets as he steeled himself for what he had to say. His voice was harsh with the held-back pleading, and soft from the burden of trying to convey what words could not.
"Yami, if you knew how sorry I am….." His voice trailed off, as he hastily rose, finding the sudden ripple of emotion through his thoughts too unbearable to continue.
Yami barely concealed his dismay at Seto's pale, sorrowed face, as he clenched his eyes shut and drew a steadying breath.
"I didn't come here to beg for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it. If I could take back what I did to you, I would. It was a mistake that I'll live with for the rest of my life. I know that I deserve to feel like a bastard for this, and I do. I know that this will be hard for you to understand, Yami, but I didn't come here to make this situation worse for you. "
Yami raised an eyebrow at that. "Then why are you here?" He hissed out.
Seto bowed his head. "I want you to know that Kaibacorps will be covering any and all expenses related to this, including reimbursement for a new vehicle. I've already made the arrangements for it, and the hospital will provide the paperwork if you want to read it."
Yami said nothing for a long moment, as he shook his head. "If you are expecting me to be grateful for the charity, you are sadly mistaken, Seto. No amount of money can erase this."
"I know that!" Seto snapped and recoiled as he scrubbed a frustrated hand over his tired eyes. "Believe me, Yami…..I know. I'm not trying to buy my way out of this. I'm just trying to make it right."
Yami scowled at that, as Seto wearily continued, haltingly, "The officer investigating the wreck filed her charges with the district attorney. I got the summons this morning. Yami, I'm possibly going to prison, if that's any consolation."
Yami felt the numbing disbelief trickle through his thoughts like ice water as he watched Seto shut his eyes to staunch the tears. "I won't be fighting the charges, Yami. There's no point, now. " Seto rose from the plastic chair, his brittle eyes shimmering, as Yami shook his head, shocked.
Seto pivoted to face him, lingering at the doorframe. "If I could trade places with you, I would. At least then, I wouldn't have to live with this, and you'd be uninjured. I'm sorry, Yami. I hope that you can accept that, even if you don't forgive me for it."
Yami had no answer to that. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway. Seto gave him one last look of sorrow and remorse before he bowed his head, and left.
