This chapter is dedicated to D-Chan and her yami, Nuva, two faithful reviewers that have been around since the early NYA days. Thanks! Okay, here come the personal acknowledgments; sorry if they're out of order, blame the review problem!
Cherry: Thank you so much! I don't really have time to read other fics, but it's pretty bad if people are saying the quality is going down... perhaps I should give a writing class? LOL... this is the second-last chapter, so enjoy! I'll get to work on the next one shortly!
Ancient Angel: LOL, thanks for reviewing twice! I did get your first one, but as I said in the author notes, it didn't show up on FF.net. I'm really happy everyone who reads this story loves it so much; makes it worthwhile writing! Tell your friends to enjoy, and you too of course! ^_^
Silver: Hey, girl! (hugs Silver) LOL, thanks so much for your encouragement; believe me, your reviews mean so much to me, I can't express it. Yeah, Seto's a bastard, but since I was avoiding the OOC thing... yeah! Be warned in advance, this chapter is DARK... but try to enjoy anyway! ^_^
Emme: I figured this story would be more your speed, if you couldn't last all the way through NYA.... Enjoy this chapter, and don't worry; you're not the only one that thinks it's crazy/wrong.
babygurl: Heya, Princess! ^_^ Thanks for your review, even after you told me what you thought on MSN. I appreciate it, and I love your particular brand of 'sense', don't worry! Love you back, and I hope this chapter doesn't traumatize you too much... laterz!
Katsumi-chan: New reviewer? Yay!! Can't spoil the plot, sorry; but you'll get your answer if you keep reading! I hope to hear what you think through another review, okay? Thanks for your first one, in any case! ^_^
Ranma Higurashi: Again, plot questions I can't answer! Just read the fic, though, and all will be explained... (Twilight Zone voice) LOL, just kidding. Enjoy!
ssjmiraitrks: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it; I love your name, BTW! I hope you like this chapter too; be sure to let me know, okay? ^_^ The POV was just a whim that happened to turn out well, LOL, and the characterization was just a lucky accident, really... well, later!
Blue Lagoon Loon: Well, if evil's your game, then this chapter should be right up your alley. ^_^ Can't reveal the plot, so I guess you'll just have to keep reading then! Laterz!
Firewing: And I won't answer it, don't worry! You'll find out soon enough; next chapter is the last one. Thank you for telling me that I do angst well; your opinions mean a great deal to me. Hope you enjoy this chapter, although it's much darker than usual... handle with care, okay? ^_^
ILOVEIT: LOL, don't worry; I put a lot of sarcasm in it, so laughing isn't exactly a bad thing... means I did my job right! Thanks for your cute review, and I love your name as well! ^_^ Later!
Angel-Belle: Another one who reviewed twice! That's really sweet... thanks, 'Belle! Yeah, I've tried to stay as faithful to the anime and manga as possible... to see if Kaiba ever turns around, check out this chapter and the next one, which should be up sooner rather than later. Thank you so much for your kind reviews.. enjoy the chappie!
keira maxwell: Aww, come on, everyone likes surprises! Thank you for your great reviews that always seem to make me laugh, and don't worry; since there's only one more chapter to go on this one, NYA will be updated sooner than you think! ^_^ Enjoy the chapter; hope it's not too dark for you! Later!
Shadowy Fluffball: Well, blame the creators of YGO, not me! I'm just following their character design! If you thought that was sad/cruel... well, prep yourself for this chapter, cause it's worse! Later!
D-Chan and Nuva: Hey, girls! This one's for you two, since Nuva loves the angst so much, LOL. D-Chan, you can take comfort in the fact that this fic won't be going on for very much longer, one more chapter only, so I'll be back to writing NYA-style fluff before you know it! Enjoy this chapter, guys; though it might be too dark for D-Chan, I'm sure Nuva will love it!
Bug-Chan: LOL, glad the dedication's helping you fight off that writer's block of yours! If Seto was scaring you before, well, let's just say he's worse here. In fact, this chapter drove the rating up to R, so... you know, you don't have to send me the entire fic at once. If you like, I can read what you have so far, fix whatever tiny errors there might be, and give you a few ideas! It sometimes helps to have someone do that, just to get things rolling, so if you want, I don't mind at all! Love you lots, Bug-Chan... hope to hear from you soon!
Joeysgirl: If you thought he was bad before... (shudder) I feel bad for Joey too, but that's the fic, I suppose. Hope you like this chapter anyway, and feel free to hit Seto if you want!
Li: LOL, I'm so glad that you love the fic! Thank you for your great review; while I don't think you're a masochist, I'd read this story at my own risk. ^_^ Later!
Lizzie: Sorry, you can smack him if you want! I update as often as I get inspired, and reviewers like you help me get the chapters out this fast, so thank you! ^_^ Enjoy the chapter!
fox: Thank you for all the reviews on NYA: I think you're enjoying it at least, LOL. Wow, one of the most interesting? Let's see if you think so after this chapter! Later!
RavenWings: Thank you so much! Your encouragement means a lot to me, so thanks! I did my best with Tea/Anzu, so I'm glad she came out realistic! Hope to hear what you think of this chapter!
Starfly: I don't see it as reducing Tea to bitchdom.. after all, wasn't she the good guy in this, trying to save Joey from Kaiba? Granted, her methods left something to be desired, but she was really concerned for him, so she wasn't thinking straight. If that's bitchy, I think I need to look that word up. ^_^ Enjoy the chapter, and thanks for reviewing!
Warnings: Here we go: reference to sex, suicide, blood, emotional shattering... all in all, a pretty sick chapter. Do not ask me what possessed me to write this, but you've been warned! All flames will be met with extreme prejudice!
Disclaimer: I'll bet they're glad I don't own them, or the show would not be fit for children!
Chapter 7: The Truth
It's been two months since that afternoon, and with each day that passes, he stumbles deeper into my web. Even now, as I type madly on my laptop, trying to meet a project deadline, he's curled up against me, his eyes closed, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. I watch him from the corner of my eye, reveling in the complete power I now hold over him. It won't be long now before my plan comes to fruition, I tell myself, trying to appease my impatient nature even as I glare at the mutt clinging to me as though I were his favorite chew toy.
Still, though, the time I've spent with him hasn't been as awful as I thought it might be. He's sweet, caring... charming, even, in a faithful pet sort of way. I've even come to appreciate his particular brand of beauty, to the point where I almost enjoy kissing him. Almost. He's still gutter trash, and a loudmouth besides, although watching him fall for me, truly for me, not for my money, my power, or my good looks, has been a singular experience.
He hasn't fallen for me, though. Not in the strictest sense of the term, at least. He's fallen for my masks, a completely fabricated person, and he hasn't even questioned it once. It's just as I wished; he's in love beyond reason with a person that he thinks is Seto Kaiba. My plan has gone off without a hitch. Why, then, do I feel so empty? Shouldn't I at least feel that perverse satisfaction that comes from destruction, from revenge?
Don't get me wrong, I don't love him. Not in the least. I am incapable of love, and every other 'good' emotion, for that matter. My heart is buried with my adoptive father, and I've never once missed it. I am the Ice Prince, Seto Kaiba, the man without a conscience, without the capacity to feel anything other than satisfaction and hatred. I nod once, and the movement, small as it is, jars him awake.
Like some overgrown weed, he wraps his arms around one of mine, preventing me from typing as well as I would like. "Seto..." he says, "Can you just call it a night?"
"Why?" I ask, a little too curtly. I can afford some tactical errors at this point, though.
He doesn't seem to notice, just rummages through that green jacket of his and pulls out a little rectangular box, placing it behind him where he thinks I won't see it. "It's our anniversary," he replies. "And I've got something for you."
My curiosity, along with my desire to avoid complicated excuses for my behavior later, drives me to save my work and close the laptop computer. "Okay, what is it?" I say, turning to face him and forcing myself to smile the tiniest bit.
Nervously, he thrusts the box out to me. "Happy anniversary," he whispers, and I wonder why he's so apprehensive about me opening some stupid box. Probably some cheesy gift from the thrift shop...
I tear the ribbon with one firm tug and claw the wrapping paper into shreds before tossing the trash to the floor. Ribbons and pretty paper are such a waste of resources to me, but he seems to thrive on them. I wonder if your love for shiny things is inversely proportional to your IQ. That would explain an awful lot.
As I lift the lid of the box, I feel his nails dig into my upper arm. What could be so... hmm, this is interesting at that. Carefully, I lift the mutt's Red-Eyes from the box, turning it over in its protective plastic so that it catches the light and sparkles dance across the holographic rendition of the obsidian monster. I hold in my hand my prey's most prized possession, given to me willingly, and I have to fight the urge to laugh out loud at the absolute success my plan has met with.
Suppressing the fit of laughter, I lean down and kiss him chastely, like I can tell he wants to be kissed right now. The movement of my lips on his is devoid of any passion, any lust, anything physical. To me, of course, it's devoid of anything, but to him, I know it feels like I'm returning his physical gift with a reminder of my 'love' for him. Such is the power of the denial I have harnessed.
I pull away from him once a polite amount of time has elapsed, brushing my lips against his cheek for good measure. "Thank you," I say, and he swallows hard.
"Uh..." he stammers, fumbling for words. "Seto... that's only the first part of my gift."
Only the first part, huh? I wonder what he's going to do for an encore. Patiently, I sit back, moving the card to a safer place. "I'm listening," I say, forcing my voice to thicken as though I'm in the grip of some powerful emotion.
He replies by pulling me back down and forcing his tongue into my mouth, his hands sliding up my shirt and gliding over the firm planes of my chest eagerly, yet nervously. His eyes flick open, locking with mine as he breaks our kiss, panting slightly, and with a rush of devilish glee, I realize what he's offering.
I drag him over to the bed, this time taking control. He doesn't resist as I renew our kiss, tackling him to the mattress with a ferocity that surprises both of us. Our lips part for a split second as I all but tear off my shirt before settling my weight over his slightly more slender form.
Neither of us have time for more coherent thought before we're both lost in the twin haze of desire and passion.
* * *
I awake well before he does, easily disentangling myself from his embrace and heading for the upstairs washroom to shower, unwilling to chance him awakening too soon. Once I've washed away any physical traces of last night's 'activities', I return to my room, dress, and lean back in my desk chair, looking at his Red-Eyes disinterestedly. His prized possession, the catalyst for my plan's fulfillment. I love tragic irony, especially the tragic part.
It's another thirty minutes before he stirs, and ten more before his eyes crack open slightly. I wait, in no hurry to finish things. If one can't be patient on the last day of their life, then when? These are the last moments I will be able to savor before the void; I want them to be perfect.
"Mornin', love," he murmurs contentedly, sighing as he sinks back into the nest of pillows beneath him.
"Isn't it funny how stupid people can be?" I begin, and confusion clouds his features as I twirl the Red-Eyes between my fingers, just slow enough so that he can discern what exactly it is. A smile crosses his face as he sees me holding his gift, obviously thinking that this means that I treasure it as he would. He'll learn soon enough.
"This card is a token of our love," I say, allowing just the slightest bit of sarcasm to seep into my voice. He doesn't notice the subtle variation in tone, and his smile breaks into a full-fledged, lovesick puppy dog grin. Pathetic simpleton. Smoothly, soundlessly, I slide the dragon from its protective plastic sheath and tear it neatly into four pieces before his exhaustion-fogged brain can realize what's going on.
A split second later, he lurches forward, wincing in a pain strong enough to stop him cold. I don't seem to remember being gentle last night, either. "Seto... what did you do that for?!"
"It's as I said," I reply, flipping my silver lighter open and setting the pieces aflame before dropping the already curling cardboard into a conveniently placed decorative glass bowl. "This card is the physical token of our love. Now, it might as well never have existed." Leaning forward, I fix him to the spot with one of my most piercing glares. "Our love never did, period."
I watch his face fall, as the full magnitude of what I've just said sinks in. "You... you never..." I can almost see the flashes of memory crossing his mind; his friends, warning him off me; his hatred for me, that was eclipsed by the love I forced upon him. "Why, Seto?" he asks, and his voice is defeated, exactly like Mokuba's that morning.
In a flash, I'm upon him, his wrist clenched painfully in my fist. "That's Kaiba, mutt," I spit, and as his terrified gaze locks with mine, I let my masks drop. He gasps and looks away from the wave of darkness that is all I really am at my core. Just a dark, faceless, destructive thing. "You're stupider than I gave you credit for. You're so stubborn, you fell for a person who never existed, just because you wanted them to." I grin wolfishly, and he cringes at the drastic transformation. "How does it feel, knowing you gave everything you had to someone who wasn't real? Your Red-Eyes, your innocence... everything."
"Monster," he whimpers, clutching my silk sheets tighter around him. Angrily, I rip them off him, leaving his naked flesh exposed to the icy air. Blood cakes the back of his thighs, along with another, thicker substance, and traces of both can be found on the sheets. I suppose 'not gentle' was the understatement of the century. As I make this observation, he curls up around himself, obviously expecting me to hit him. I have much more effective ways of hurting people, thank you very much.
"You have thirty minutes to get off my property unaided," I say, striding toward the bedroom door. "After that, I will call security." He doesn't move an inch, and no sound passes his lips, although his eyes mist over with unshed tears. As my hand closes on the doorknob, I turn back, almost as an afterthought. "I must admit, though, you were a decent fuck. Perhaps you should become a prostitute and turn a profit for it. That's probably the best an idiot gutter rat can aspire to." The final blow dealt, I leave the bedroom, slam the door, and head downstairs. Might as well grab something to eat while I wait for him to get it together enough to make it out of my house or the time limit to elapse. It's all the same to me.
* * *
Exactly twenty-six minutes and forty-nine seconds later, by my watch, I hear him making his way down the stairs, grunting in pain with every step. I wonder vaguely how he managed to get dressed, then decided I couldn't care less. As long as he's gone, that's all that matters.
I wait until he's well away from the estate, watching every labored step he takes across the lawn before I go back up to my room, retrieving my briefcase and dumping everything but my dueling deck onto the hopelessly stained sheets. From my deck, I take out my three Blue-Eyes, throwing the rest of the meaningless cards down among the papers and textbooks. These three, though, I lay out on my desk. Even though I no longer have any use for them, they have served me well over the years, and I can't bring myself to destroy them, nor lump them in with the rest of the trash on the bed.
Into my now-empty briefcase I toss only a length of rope and an unmarked envelope containing my will before closing it. The tape that Yugi gave me, I crush in my fist easily, tossing the remains on the floor. Now who's got the last laugh, Yami?
Taking the lighter-than-ever briefcase with me, I go down to the garage and start up the Mercedes for the last time. The chauffeur could be here at a moment's notice, but if it's all the same to whatever warped entity is running the show, I'd much rather not be driven to my own death.
* * *
Once I'm in my office, I lock the door, although there's no danger of being interrupted on a Sunday. Placing the envelope where it will be easily found, I push my desk under the light fixture and tie one end of the rope to it tightly before pulling at it with all my strength. The anchor doesn't budge an inch. Perfect.
Quickly and efficiently, I form a noose of the other end, place it around my neck and adjust it so that it's excruciatingly tight. That done, I take as deep a breath as I can and kick away from the desk into open air.
Unfortunately for me, my neck doesn't break, so I'm left to swing on the rope as I suffocate slowly. I actually did it. I always expected to feel something at this moment, when it was too late to turn back. Fear, perhaps, like Hamlet, for what lies beyond. Regret, for hurting so many people during the course of my short life. Joy, or relief, that it was finally over, and that nothing could possibly save me this time.
Instead, all I feel is the emptiness; the same damn pervading sense of darkness that I've fought against since I became what I am today. There is no white light at the end of a tunnel for me, no family come to take my soul to the afterlife, and certainly no scenes of my life flashing before my eyes. A flicker of amusement ignites in my mind at the latter, although there is no longer enough breath in my lungs to laugh. How can I see scenes of a life I never lived?
The darkness creeps into my peripheral vision, and I finally lay down and give into it gratefully, wondering why I hadn't done this sooner. No matter what plane I wind up on, death has got to be better than this hamster wheel called life.