I made you leave soon after that. So Kaiba-sama wouldn't come home and see
you. I was working on homework in the kitchen next to Mokuba, when I felt
his hand on my shoulder. "How was school?" came his cold, monotone voice.
He tightened his grasp and my pencil fell from my hand.
"F-fine," I stammered.
"Speak up!" he yelled, knocking his other hand into my jaw.
"School was fine!" My breathing became heavy. I remember wondering why he had to do this in front of Mokuba.
His hand began to roughly "massage" my shoulder. "That's wonderful," he said dryly. "I'm glad you're adjusting just fine. I picked this up for you on the way home. Still not dropping my shoulder, he used his free hand to drop a pack of Duel Monster cards on my text book. "That's the game you play, right?"
I nodded, but stared strangely at the pack of cards. Why in the world would he have bought me this? I wondered. "Th-thank you, Kaiba-sama."
"Of course. You are my son now. I do things for my sons." He tighten his grip. "You hair color is funny. You should dye it."
I nodded, tears beginning to blur my eyes from the pain. "Yes, Kaiba- sama."
He finally let go. "Finish your work soon. I want to talk to you before dinner." He walked out of the room.
My stomach began to churn strangely. *Before dinner...* Oh god, why? I pocketed the pack of cards without opening them.
We were all unusually quiet at dinner. Usually Gazaboro was busy telling me how to put my crowded mind to productive use. But he was quietly reading over a document and picking at his food. I was trying not to puke into my food, not even pretending to be eating and Mokuba sensed my tenseness, I suppose. Finally, we were excused and we went to our rooms where I finally puked into my trashcan.
Things didn't improve and it was like living two lives. One at school, one at home. Well, I guess I was living multiple lives. One with Mokuba, one with Kaiba-sama in front of people, one out of other people's gazes. One classroom life and one lunch life. And finally, my life with you. I was finally free from everything. I enjoyed being with you because you meant safety and freedom. I adored your house and I'm not even sure why. It was ugly in all reality. But I think that was it. It was real. There was no perfect pictures hanging on the wall; no perfect maids waiting on you, no perfect-ness that *I* had to be. Your father was hardly home and we were glad. Weren't we? I know I was. You didn't always seem to be.
Sometimes you stared off into space when I was talking--something I used to do a lot of--and totally blank out. A soft kiss on your neck always brought you back and you'd smile and everything was perfect. But if it was perfect, then why didn't it last? "Nothing perfect lasts," I can almost hear you murmuring. But if it's really perfect, then it *will* last. So why didn't our life last? I loved you. I really did. I won't deny it. I wasn't scared to tell you that when we were together. I liked whispering it to you, especially, when you were having a bad day just so I could see your face light up. Your smile was--and still is--beautiful. It's so real and perfect and just...you. You were perfect. Perfect for me. You were honest and caring and gentle and I think you may have been in love with me, too. Though I never can tell. I hope you were. And yet I pray to any god there is watching over us that you didn't. Because then it would make sense. It would make sense why you did what you did. Betrayed me. But I wonder if you really loved me or if I was just deluding myself the entire time.
Do you remember our little place? It was in the far gardens of Kaiba- sama's estate. There was a bench surrounded on all sides with dense rose bushes. They were taller than either of us and we risked the thorns to get to it. It was nice to just sit and be together there. It was almost even better to know that we were making out right under their noses.
That's when you'd notice the bruises. You never said anything, but I could feel your fingers wonder over them over and over again. Your touch was something else all together. It was feathers that tickled and caressed, yet were strong and sure like everything about you. So was your kiss and everything. I loved the way your teeth bit teasingly at my lower lip, until my breath was showing you how much I wanted you. Everything about me wanted everything about you. You completed me. You utterly completed me. You made the multi-lives work for me. It was worth it with you. You made life worth living.
But the bruises. You never let me shrug them off. You'd always make me know that you knew about them. And you wouldn't let me drop them. I think I was too angry to know you cared when you did it, but all I wanted to do was forget the pain when I was with you. I bet you had bruises, though. I almost remember seeing the gashes across your arms and chest. But I didn't want to see them. I didn't want to see the abuse we both suffered. I wanted our life to be nothing but perfect. But it couldn't be. Because you wanted me to leave. You'd whisper, while you held me, that I should pack up and leave. Run away. But I never could. Whenever my hand ran over my over-night bag, I'd freeze, seeing your smiling face. I selfishly couldn't leave you. I didn't care anymore what Kaiba-sama did to me. No, never. You made me want to pretend they didn't happen. So I could live my perfect life with you.
But you never let me. We never actually fought. Sometimes, however, we'd get into heated discussions over it until I withdrew from you and asked you to leave. You'd never back down. I guess you were doing it for my own good, but it never felt like it. It felt like you wanted something else; something more. Like I wasn't perfect. I guess you really just wanted what was best for me. But you were so wrong. Running away wasn't best. You were. You were what I needed.
I bet some people knew. I know I couldn't have lived my multi-lives perfectly. They tended to cross over each other so I bet sometimes people saw the way I looked at you. I think more than one teacher "knew" but said nothing. But I could see the questioning stares we got when they thought I couldn't see them. I didn't care. I honestly didn't. I loved you. Nothing else mattered.
I just wish that you had loved me.
You invited me to your house for dinner. Your father finally came around and insisted upon it. I asked you if you thought it was a good idea and you shrugged. "I'm not sure. He's being kind of weird about it. It's up to you."
"I don't want to start anything with him."
You took my hand and gave it a squeeze. "He's sober most of the time now. No worries." You brushed some hair out of my face and smiled. I threw discretion to the wind and leaned in and kiss you. You smiled and ran your hand along my jaw line. "Silly Seto," you chanted softly and leaned in for another kiss. Thankfully, we were in a secluded part of the playground so no one saw us.
I went home like any normal day. I started my homework, though Mokuba was in his room. I felt my body tense and my eyes close and then I realized he was there. Watching me. I slowly turned to look at him. "Hello, Kaiba- sama." My eyes hurried back to my book.
He stood in the doorway watching me for several minutes. I tried to ignore him but waited. It was going to happen. What, I wasn't sure, but something was defiantly going to happen. I heard my sobs before I realized what happened. It had happened so fast. I was lying, sprawled on the floor with the chair tangled in my legs, blood gushing out of my arm. "You worthless..." I heard him mutter before I felt him hit me again. This time in the head. I began seeing a bright light, blocking out everything else. A constant ring in my ears drowned out his words as I felt the metallic of his briefcase slam into me. I passed out soon afterwards.
When I awoke, I felt the urge to throw up again. Then I realized what was happening. A small voice in my head said, "He's fucking you. He's fucking your passed out body. Do you know that? Look at you, you idiot. I bet you like it, too. You like to feel his hands grabbing onto you. I bet you want this. You pray for it."
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" I screamed, covering my ears. "Nononononononononononon! Please stop, please stop, please stop." I was talking to the voice. Kaiba-sama would do what he wanted. I knew that. I also knew begging him wouldn't do any good. So I begged the voices. "Let me be!"
He left me lying on the floor of a guest room, covered in blood, sweat, and his cum, beating my head against the floor, begging the voices to stop. They never did. From then on, they were always there. They still are.
After awhile, I stopped yelling and banging my head. I felt, more than saw, Kaiba-sama cleaning me up and pulling me into decent clothes. He drove me to the hospital and had them look me over. It was one big daze to me as I felt strong, gentle hands wrap my wounds. I woke next time in my room, the covers thrown over me. I threw up again. Each time I have to throw up. It always happened sooner or later. It was all I could do sometimes to not throw up on him. I ran my hand over the removable cast that covered my left arm. It was green and clashed with my hair. I remember wishing it was blue. Just stupid things like that. I hugged my pillow close as I listening to the voices in my head.
Kaiba-sama still got me up in the morning. He didn't say anything about it as he dragged me downstairs while I was still practically asleep. I was wearing my uniform as he force-fed me some toast. I whispered softly if I could eat dinner at your house and stay the night. He agreed and I was happy.
A few people asked about my sprained wrist and you happily took credit for it. For once, I refused to talk to you about it. You seemed a bit angry, but didn't press the issue. However, you ate lunch with Tristan that day. We didn't speak to each other for the entire school day until gym. Couch hit me on the back off handedly when I handed him the hospital note and I screamed. You and he turned to stare at me. I was reeling from the pain so it was too late before I realized he was pulling up my shirt. "Kaiba...what the hell happened?"
I twisted away from him and hugged myself, feeling cold. My eyes were to the ground. "We got in a fight," I heard you whisper.
Couch shook his head as he left. "That's one hell of a bruise, Kaiba." I began crying softly into my hands when I felt your arms go around me. "God, Seto. Tell me. Please. I'm begging you. I know who did. What happened? Just tell me. Please. We need to get you help."
"I-I...I went to the hospital. I'm fine."
"No you're not. He's going to kill you, Seto. Don't be an idiot."
Don't be an idiot, don't be an idiot. See? He thinks you're an idiot. Worthless and a pain in his ass. Look at you. So pathetic. So very, very pathetic. I did my best to ignore the voices. "He won't kill me. He's just toughening me into a C.E.O. for his company."
"F-fine," I stammered.
"Speak up!" he yelled, knocking his other hand into my jaw.
"School was fine!" My breathing became heavy. I remember wondering why he had to do this in front of Mokuba.
His hand began to roughly "massage" my shoulder. "That's wonderful," he said dryly. "I'm glad you're adjusting just fine. I picked this up for you on the way home. Still not dropping my shoulder, he used his free hand to drop a pack of Duel Monster cards on my text book. "That's the game you play, right?"
I nodded, but stared strangely at the pack of cards. Why in the world would he have bought me this? I wondered. "Th-thank you, Kaiba-sama."
"Of course. You are my son now. I do things for my sons." He tighten his grip. "You hair color is funny. You should dye it."
I nodded, tears beginning to blur my eyes from the pain. "Yes, Kaiba- sama."
He finally let go. "Finish your work soon. I want to talk to you before dinner." He walked out of the room.
My stomach began to churn strangely. *Before dinner...* Oh god, why? I pocketed the pack of cards without opening them.
We were all unusually quiet at dinner. Usually Gazaboro was busy telling me how to put my crowded mind to productive use. But he was quietly reading over a document and picking at his food. I was trying not to puke into my food, not even pretending to be eating and Mokuba sensed my tenseness, I suppose. Finally, we were excused and we went to our rooms where I finally puked into my trashcan.
Things didn't improve and it was like living two lives. One at school, one at home. Well, I guess I was living multiple lives. One with Mokuba, one with Kaiba-sama in front of people, one out of other people's gazes. One classroom life and one lunch life. And finally, my life with you. I was finally free from everything. I enjoyed being with you because you meant safety and freedom. I adored your house and I'm not even sure why. It was ugly in all reality. But I think that was it. It was real. There was no perfect pictures hanging on the wall; no perfect maids waiting on you, no perfect-ness that *I* had to be. Your father was hardly home and we were glad. Weren't we? I know I was. You didn't always seem to be.
Sometimes you stared off into space when I was talking--something I used to do a lot of--and totally blank out. A soft kiss on your neck always brought you back and you'd smile and everything was perfect. But if it was perfect, then why didn't it last? "Nothing perfect lasts," I can almost hear you murmuring. But if it's really perfect, then it *will* last. So why didn't our life last? I loved you. I really did. I won't deny it. I wasn't scared to tell you that when we were together. I liked whispering it to you, especially, when you were having a bad day just so I could see your face light up. Your smile was--and still is--beautiful. It's so real and perfect and just...you. You were perfect. Perfect for me. You were honest and caring and gentle and I think you may have been in love with me, too. Though I never can tell. I hope you were. And yet I pray to any god there is watching over us that you didn't. Because then it would make sense. It would make sense why you did what you did. Betrayed me. But I wonder if you really loved me or if I was just deluding myself the entire time.
Do you remember our little place? It was in the far gardens of Kaiba- sama's estate. There was a bench surrounded on all sides with dense rose bushes. They were taller than either of us and we risked the thorns to get to it. It was nice to just sit and be together there. It was almost even better to know that we were making out right under their noses.
That's when you'd notice the bruises. You never said anything, but I could feel your fingers wonder over them over and over again. Your touch was something else all together. It was feathers that tickled and caressed, yet were strong and sure like everything about you. So was your kiss and everything. I loved the way your teeth bit teasingly at my lower lip, until my breath was showing you how much I wanted you. Everything about me wanted everything about you. You completed me. You utterly completed me. You made the multi-lives work for me. It was worth it with you. You made life worth living.
But the bruises. You never let me shrug them off. You'd always make me know that you knew about them. And you wouldn't let me drop them. I think I was too angry to know you cared when you did it, but all I wanted to do was forget the pain when I was with you. I bet you had bruises, though. I almost remember seeing the gashes across your arms and chest. But I didn't want to see them. I didn't want to see the abuse we both suffered. I wanted our life to be nothing but perfect. But it couldn't be. Because you wanted me to leave. You'd whisper, while you held me, that I should pack up and leave. Run away. But I never could. Whenever my hand ran over my over-night bag, I'd freeze, seeing your smiling face. I selfishly couldn't leave you. I didn't care anymore what Kaiba-sama did to me. No, never. You made me want to pretend they didn't happen. So I could live my perfect life with you.
But you never let me. We never actually fought. Sometimes, however, we'd get into heated discussions over it until I withdrew from you and asked you to leave. You'd never back down. I guess you were doing it for my own good, but it never felt like it. It felt like you wanted something else; something more. Like I wasn't perfect. I guess you really just wanted what was best for me. But you were so wrong. Running away wasn't best. You were. You were what I needed.
I bet some people knew. I know I couldn't have lived my multi-lives perfectly. They tended to cross over each other so I bet sometimes people saw the way I looked at you. I think more than one teacher "knew" but said nothing. But I could see the questioning stares we got when they thought I couldn't see them. I didn't care. I honestly didn't. I loved you. Nothing else mattered.
I just wish that you had loved me.
You invited me to your house for dinner. Your father finally came around and insisted upon it. I asked you if you thought it was a good idea and you shrugged. "I'm not sure. He's being kind of weird about it. It's up to you."
"I don't want to start anything with him."
You took my hand and gave it a squeeze. "He's sober most of the time now. No worries." You brushed some hair out of my face and smiled. I threw discretion to the wind and leaned in and kiss you. You smiled and ran your hand along my jaw line. "Silly Seto," you chanted softly and leaned in for another kiss. Thankfully, we were in a secluded part of the playground so no one saw us.
I went home like any normal day. I started my homework, though Mokuba was in his room. I felt my body tense and my eyes close and then I realized he was there. Watching me. I slowly turned to look at him. "Hello, Kaiba- sama." My eyes hurried back to my book.
He stood in the doorway watching me for several minutes. I tried to ignore him but waited. It was going to happen. What, I wasn't sure, but something was defiantly going to happen. I heard my sobs before I realized what happened. It had happened so fast. I was lying, sprawled on the floor with the chair tangled in my legs, blood gushing out of my arm. "You worthless..." I heard him mutter before I felt him hit me again. This time in the head. I began seeing a bright light, blocking out everything else. A constant ring in my ears drowned out his words as I felt the metallic of his briefcase slam into me. I passed out soon afterwards.
When I awoke, I felt the urge to throw up again. Then I realized what was happening. A small voice in my head said, "He's fucking you. He's fucking your passed out body. Do you know that? Look at you, you idiot. I bet you like it, too. You like to feel his hands grabbing onto you. I bet you want this. You pray for it."
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" I screamed, covering my ears. "Nononononononononononon! Please stop, please stop, please stop." I was talking to the voice. Kaiba-sama would do what he wanted. I knew that. I also knew begging him wouldn't do any good. So I begged the voices. "Let me be!"
He left me lying on the floor of a guest room, covered in blood, sweat, and his cum, beating my head against the floor, begging the voices to stop. They never did. From then on, they were always there. They still are.
After awhile, I stopped yelling and banging my head. I felt, more than saw, Kaiba-sama cleaning me up and pulling me into decent clothes. He drove me to the hospital and had them look me over. It was one big daze to me as I felt strong, gentle hands wrap my wounds. I woke next time in my room, the covers thrown over me. I threw up again. Each time I have to throw up. It always happened sooner or later. It was all I could do sometimes to not throw up on him. I ran my hand over the removable cast that covered my left arm. It was green and clashed with my hair. I remember wishing it was blue. Just stupid things like that. I hugged my pillow close as I listening to the voices in my head.
Kaiba-sama still got me up in the morning. He didn't say anything about it as he dragged me downstairs while I was still practically asleep. I was wearing my uniform as he force-fed me some toast. I whispered softly if I could eat dinner at your house and stay the night. He agreed and I was happy.
A few people asked about my sprained wrist and you happily took credit for it. For once, I refused to talk to you about it. You seemed a bit angry, but didn't press the issue. However, you ate lunch with Tristan that day. We didn't speak to each other for the entire school day until gym. Couch hit me on the back off handedly when I handed him the hospital note and I screamed. You and he turned to stare at me. I was reeling from the pain so it was too late before I realized he was pulling up my shirt. "Kaiba...what the hell happened?"
I twisted away from him and hugged myself, feeling cold. My eyes were to the ground. "We got in a fight," I heard you whisper.
Couch shook his head as he left. "That's one hell of a bruise, Kaiba." I began crying softly into my hands when I felt your arms go around me. "God, Seto. Tell me. Please. I'm begging you. I know who did. What happened? Just tell me. Please. We need to get you help."
"I-I...I went to the hospital. I'm fine."
"No you're not. He's going to kill you, Seto. Don't be an idiot."
Don't be an idiot, don't be an idiot. See? He thinks you're an idiot. Worthless and a pain in his ass. Look at you. So pathetic. So very, very pathetic. I did my best to ignore the voices. "He won't kill me. He's just toughening me into a C.E.O. for his company."
