A/N: Okay…this is my first posted fanfic, so hi. Read, enjoy if you do, review if you want to.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, and as this is fan fiction I make no money from it.
Lost in my own world, desperately racing through it in search of something I could not find…
How could I have lost again? That was what the search was disguised as; an attempt to find a rational explanation for something that could only be rationally, sanely explained as simple chance. I knew that his deck was no better than mine; I knew that he played his cards less skillfully than I did. But so much of the game was left to luck; why did his always seem better than mine?
That was what the search disguised itself as. That was not what the search was. I knew the answer to my question; I did not want to know. So I denied it, and I spent pointless hours poring over my deck, wasted hours. I knew Mokuba worried about me.
He was right to worry.
The blood flowed from the deep cuts on my wrists, sinking into the cards, the shining white scales of the Blue-Eyes turning a violent crimson. The dragon stared up at me, accusingly; I had done so much, and Mokuba needed me, and Yugi needed me (I do not know why I thought this), and I was going to flee it all, abandon it, why? There was no answer. I did not know. My life had turned detached, dreamlike, before I slit my wrists, and it was that way now. I floated over my motionless body, seeing the blood, seeing without hearing Mokuba's anguished cry when he stepped into the room…and then there was a sound, and I was in darkness, and my feet were on solid ground. I was barefoot, and where I stood seemed to be on a sand-covered stone floor. I wore the robes of a high priest of Egypt. In my right hand rested the Millennium Rod. Though I could see nothing, I sensed I was in some sort of tunnel. I walked forward, warily, holding the Millennium Rod slightly in front of me. Soon, I saw the crack of light that meant I had reached a doorway. Voices were speaking, indecipherably, on the other side. Cautiously, I pushed the stone slab aside.
The light, at first, was blinding. I squinted into the whiteness, barely managing to make out a draconic form. Stepping forward, I at first thought I was looking into a mirror, but the other one of me looked away and hissed something to another Egyptian—Yugi, I saw—before looking back at me.
"What is the meaning of this, Seth?" demanded Yugi of the other me, in the voice he used while dueling. Seth looked at me warily.
"I do not know, O Pharoh," he said curtly. "He looks like me." And he stared at me oddly, with the same half-memory that plagued me. "Who are you?"
Finally, there was a damn Egyptian who didn't know any more than I did. Strange place to go after death, though…I mean, Egypt…well, everyone had been obsessed with Egypt, so it was no doubt on my mind as it went through its last convulsions.
"Seto Kaiba," I answered truthfully. Recognition flashed in both their eyes at the name 'Seto', but puzzlement at 'Kaiba'…All three of us turned as a woman who looked remarkably like Ishizu walked into the room and up to me.
"You're too soon," she said worriedly, without preamble. "It'll mess up the whole thing. You weren't supposed to die for several years…" Strange, but then, I'd just killed myself.
"Die?" Seth asked, realization dawning on his face. He looked at me again. "Oh, Ra."
