Hello, Easter fic here. Seto-kun does some thinking. This was rushed and probably not my best work. To give you an idea of how rushed this was, the basic timeline was: Got idea on Saturday. Started writing on Tuesday. Looked at it on Wednesday, and decided that the character was all wrong and scrapped it. Started again on with a different series, not to mention character. Wrote most of it Wednesday, but changed it to yet a different character half way through. Typed it. Left it alone Thursday. Had a sleepover Friday. Stressed Saturday night and finished it.
Seto is hard to write. Mild religious references, but it is an Easter fic.
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White lilies. He was among them. He knew that Mokuba would be worried if he knew that his brother was out this early. Or maybe not – it wasn't odd for Seto to start work early. If Mokuba were to look in his office and find that he wasn't there, then he might be worried, but otherwise, he would be no worse for wear. And Mokuba wasn't awake yet.
They could talk later.
His feet had moved of their own free will, taking him to this field of lilies. He wasn't sure where he was. He assumed that he was somewhere on his grounds, but he didn't remember there ever being a field of lilies.
It wasn't important anyway.
He had to be out, somewhere away from the normal. Normal had to many memories for him right now. Today was the anniversary of his creation. His Death-T.
His greatest sin.
He didn't think he could be around his brother right now. Mokuba would worry, and Seto would be reminded even more of what he did. He wanted to get away from memories right now. He didn't want to remember. He did anyway.
It was a dark day.
He knew what he had done there, knew what he had caused. He knew the pain he had given to others, but most of all to his brother.
He fell to his knees among the lilies. They were white – white was the color of purity. How ironic, then, that he was surrounded by them. He wasn't pure – nowhere near to it. He was tarnished, bloodied. Sin to his very core. Death in his soul.
He didn't deserve to live. In a way he had died that day, only to be reborn to a life he didn't want.
He had been born a second time, though he suspected that it had been easier the first time. Then he had no past, no memories. This time he had to live with what he had done. He had to live, knowing he didn't deserve it.
He had to live, knowing that it was only because of his enemy's mercy.
He didn't know why Yuugi's other half had spared him. Yuugi would have. But his other half? He had driven people insane for less. Why had Seto, undoubtedly the worst of all, been spared?
Seto supposed it didn't matter why – Yuugi's other half had mercy on him and he owed him. Seto owed him enough to force himself to try and live, no matter the cost.
No matter how much he deserved to die.
He stood and reached down to pluck a single lily. It was fragile, delicate. He could easily destroy it.
Just as he destroyed himself.
White was the color of purity. So easily corrupted. So easily bloodied. Once it's gone, you can never get it back.
Right?
He took one of the petals and tore it.
So easily broken.
Mokuba was the epitome of purity in Seto's eyes. An innocent soul. He had fought so hard to keep his brother pure. Was it worth it? Of course.
He lost himself in the process but he didn't matter. Only Mokuba mattered. He's all that ever mattered.
Seto looked over the field of lilies. Who was he, to be among all these pure white flowers? He didn't deserve to be seen with them.
He was as black as sin. Everything that his brother was not – everything that he fought to keep Mokuba from being.
Some would say it didn't matter. That one life should be sacrificed for another. What did they know? They've never gone through hell, knowing that they had one reason to live. They've never created something that could destroy millions of lives, and seen a little brother hug you and say he still loves you.
They've never seen the light in Mokuba's eyes when they fall on his brother.
Was it worth it?
Hell yes. So what if he was destroyed in the process? Mokuba had given him his love, his trust, and his belief. Seto had given himself up for the chance of Mokuba's salvation. In turn, Mokuba had trusted him, loved him, when he didn't love himself. Mokuba was his salvation, even as he killed his soul for Mokuba's salvation.
Even as he deserved death.
Even as….
Church bells caught him out of him thoughts. Why would they be ringing? They didn't usually… But then he remembered what day it was.
Easter. The day the Jesus, the founder of Christianity, supposedly rose from the dead.
Of all the days he could have picked to think about death and rebirth, he picked Easter.
Of all the days he could have hosted Death-T, he picked this one.
Of all the days he could have thought about salvation, he picked today.
Figures.
He was startled when his cell phone rang. He picked it up and felt a pang of guilt when he heard his brother's worried voice.
"Niisama? Where are you?"
"I'm out on the grounds."
"Oh. Why? No one's trying to sneak in, are they?"
Mokuba. So innocent.
"No. I… just needed some time to think"
"Alright. Breakfast is ready if you want any."
So loyal.
Thoughts chased from his mind, Seto turned to leave.
Mokuba was waiting.
