BlackRose: Where the hell do I keep getting these ideas from? Disclaimer: Feh…yeah, yeah, I own Yu-Gi-Oh. Ha…and I suppose you'll be telling me you still believe in the Tooth Fairy too? (You should all know where that's from.)
The blackness of the room is briefly paused as lightning cuts through the cool air like a knife. The gently pitter-patter of the light rain suddenly deepens, so that it is as if someone is hailing rocks at the halfway open glass door. The lone occupant of the room continues standing on the large stone balcony, elbows resting on the railing, oblivious to the sudden change in weather, completely unaware of his now soaking clothes and sopping hair. It didn't matter. Then again, what did anymore? Nothing was the same as it had once been. It never would be. And the loneliness that his heart threatened to succumb to, it was unbearable. It threatened to eat him up inside, yet there was nothing he could do to ease the pain. He wanted to die. Simple as that. These emotions…depression, anger, loneliness, hatred. Damned by all. And he couldn't escape. No alcohol created could relieve this burden. He finally moves for the first time in hours, noting his sopping appearance as he walks into the dark room and closes the glass door behind him, locking it in place. A quick change of clothes is in order, then he is out the door and onto the street, black trench coat flapping behind him. The rain continues to fall, in thick sheets, against him as he makes his way down the road. He takes no notice of it and continues walking. For hours it seems like he is just wandering, but in actuality, he knows where he is going, finally coming to a stop at the entrance of a cemetery. Rows upon rows of tombstones decorate the slippery grass, but he passes by all, intent on finding a different one, one that wasn't here amidst all of the other "average" people. A harsh wind whips back long silvery white hair, stinging his face with a thousand needles that he doesn't feel. He feels no physical pain; the emotional is enough for him to endure. At last, as he comes to an almost completely empty field of wet green, he stops and makes his way towards the single, lone tombstone. Kneeling down on the grass, ignoring the wetness that seeps through his pants to his knees, he traces a finger lovingly over the letters bored into the slab of stone.
Seto KaibaCaring brother and lover. We will mourn your loss forever and always.
A small, saddened smile graces his lips. He says nothing for a few moments, just allows the black of the night to swallow him. Then,
"I've kept my promise. I'm still here, like I said I would be. And you were wrong. I haven't loved anyone else like I did you."
Much to be expected, the gravestone remained silent.
"You've no idea what its like, though. I'm better off killing myself, since I might as well be dead now. I don't understand why you want me to wait so long. I don't think I can stand this much longer. I-I came very close to it last week. I was in the kitchen, eating, when I saw the knife. I still have the cut on my arm." At this, he sighs, well aware that his deceased lover had probably seen it, shame making itself known.
"I don't think the others have really noticed. Except Yami. I think he can feel it because of the link, and asked me a few times already. I keep telling him I'm fine, but I'm not sure he believes me. He hasn't done anything about it, though. He must understand that he has no idea what its like."
Again, he receives silence as an answer. He bites his lip.
"I wish I could know how long. Waiting like this is driving me mad. It's only been a month. A month, Seto. And I already feel like I'm losing my mind." He brushes the wet bangs that fall in front of his face out of his eyes with the back of a slender, pale hand.
"Mokuba is doing fine. He misses you almost as much as I do. You're lucky you have a little brother for me to watch over, else I might have already broken my word." A subdued chuckle escapes his throat as he lifts a hand, brushing away the strands of hair that defiantly cling to his face again. Another strong gust of wind follows, almost carrying the boy off his feet. He ignores this as well.
"I wonder sometimes. Had you lived…would we ever have wed?" Only a loud boom of thunder answered the question. He looks forlornly at the tombstone as he stands up, a slim hand caressing the smooth stone as he passes it.
"I'll be back soon. Goodbye." He looks back once, at the cemetery gate, then turns and walks down the sidewalk, trench coat once again billowing out behind him. He isn't looking where he's going as he crosses the street, the rain so thick it nearly blinds him. Russet eyes don't see the car that's speeding down the road. All that manages to come out of his throat is a small gasp, silenced by the thud of his body bouncing off the hood of the car. A blurred image of the blonde haired drivers face reaches his eyes as he lays on the ground, blood trickling down the side of his face. He casts his eyes to the sky, eyes empty as he views the black sky. Despite all, a smile graces his lips and he whispers,
"Finally. I'm coming, my love," before falling limp in the drivers arms.
*Grin* Well, that ends the little trilogy. ^.^ It's a happy ending after all. That's a bit of a rarity for me. *shrugs* REVIEW PLEASE
