Disclaimer: :points to other chapters:

Warnings: hmm...

AN: :le gaspers: I know you don't believe it. An update to BV. Now how about lowering those stones. :nervous laugh: I am very much, truly sorry for how long it has taken to get this little piece of work out to you. Always IRL conspires and so what can you do. I hope that you enjoy reading this chapter and aren't too miffed at me. I swear I'll try to get the next out in less that nearly three years. XP

Please R&R because R&R's make me dance. :does a little jig: Replies to reviews and questions etc can be found at a URL written in our journal bio cause ff.n sucks.

Misc info: Only two more chapters to go.

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Bittersweet Victory V

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"I can't... I can't..."

"Yami?"

The softly spoken inquiry startles me out of my self-guilt and I stiffen against the wall my hand falling from my mouth to my side clenching tightly into a fist. Faintly I can hear Mokuba's tear strained voice in the background before the soft click of Seto's door closing and then Yugi moved to stand in front of me, his hand reaching out to lightly grasp my own. "Yami, are you ok?"

The pure sincerity of the question, the underlying tones of complete trust and love bring my self loathing back in full force, a bile taste filling my mouth as Yugi repeats his question, concern mingling with the myriad of tones in his soft voice. He shouldn't be out here. He shouldn't be trying to comfort me, a monster, a liar. He should be in there with Mokuba. He should be there for his friend, not me. I am not deserving of such trust, such love...

My voice doesn't shake and I am grateful for that as I brush Yugi's concerned touch away, my gaze lowering to look at the floor as I step past him. For some reason the thought of him looking into my eyes, looking and seeing my thoughts of betrayal - of my self-hate, is something that I cannot bear. "I'm fine Yugi... I just need some air..."

My footsteps echo off the sterile white walls around me, reverberating throughout the hospitals uniform halls and faintly I hear Yugi calling out to me from behind - but I do not turn back, do not look at anything but the pristine tile in front of me and before long that soft cry disappears; my footsteps the only thing calling out to me.

I don't know how long I walked; thoughts of Seto's sad, lost gaze and quiet questions filling my mind. Questions that I know I would not answer if given the choice, knowing that I would betray him a second time without thought or care if given the opportunity. What a deceitful, hateful creature I am to knowingly risk the chance of hurting him again - of betraying him again, for just one moment of his attention. If he finds out, if he remembers, I will have deceived him again and knowingly so.

My eyes closing I continue to walk, uncaring of what was around me, unconcerned with the lack of noise save that of my own footfalls. Then, softly, another noise intrudes. Lightly it whispers beneath the echo of my feet and its whisper freezes me in mid-step, my eyes slowly opening halfway as I tilt my head towards the source of that sound. The soft drip of water...or blood. No not blood, not blood...

Frowning, I push aside the quick stab of fear at the reminder of those dreams. Dreams filled with shifting shadows of color, of cold skin and white opalescent eyes, of accusing, damning words.

This is not a dream; this is reality.

Hesitating momentarily I sigh, breathing in a shaky breath and running trembling fingers through my hair before turning and retracing my steps back the way I had come.

Yugi is no longer standing sentry over Seto's room as I approach and in the quiet emptiness of the deserted hallway I take solace, my uneasiness at the reminder of what could have been fading in the face of truth. Seto is alive and I have a second chance. Bringing up past sins will not change what had happened all those years ago, but perhaps, perhaps by not mentioning them, if he never truly remembers then maybe I could set things right between us. And if he finds out later on, if he does eventually remember he might not judge me so harshly...

Taking in one last, trembling breath I reach out and open the door stepping quietly into the room. Silence and darkness greet me and looking up I notice that neither Mokuba nor Yugi are present; only Seto remains, sitting as I have left him, his figure, like the room, draped in soft shadows. He stares out at the darkened sky beyond the window, his face turned from me, arms wrapped loosely around his up drawn knees.

How long had I been walking the empty corridors of this place of sickness and death? Clearing my throat so that Seto might know that he was no longer alone, I moved cautiously to the side of his bed resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. "Seto-kun where's Mokuba? Did he and Yugi leave already?"

Seto does not answer, does not make any move to indicate that the question had been heard or my presence acknowledged. Time seems to stretch out into eternity as I wait, my arms coming up to wrap around myself in an attempt to ward off the sudden chill that encompasses the room as small goose bumps form on my flesh.

Shaking off the uneasiness the chill has brought back to my soul I repeat the question reaching out to softly touch the sleeve of Seto's shirt, my fingers trembling ever so slightly at the contact. Wetness, warm and yet at the same time deathly cold, meets my touch and, surprised, I look down, shocked at the red substance that now coats my fingers. Blood. Jerking my hand away I take a half step backwards, Seto's name choking on my lips.

At his name Seto finally stirs, slowly turning to face me. He is covered in blood; drenched in it.

Transfixed, my eyes followed a trial of blood as it wined its way over Seto's reddened lips to flow lazily down his chin. Movement draws my attention and my eyes snap upwards focusing momentarily on a spot of blood-matted hair before sliding to fix on Seto's eyes. Slowly the blue is draining from them, leaving behind a dead, unseeing white.

Silently my mouth works unable to produce any sound as those ghost eyes focus upon me.

Blood slicked fingers brushing feather light along my jaw and throat bring me back to myself and choking on tears and fear I jerk back, violently slapping that cold touch away from me. Eyes unseeing, I turn and stumble towards the door, fumbling endlessly with the handle, which refuses to turn. Behind me I can hear movement and biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood I jerk the door open and once through slam it closed cutting off the cold whisper of my name.

Trembling I stay facing the door my head pressed lightly against it, my hands clenched against its coldness as the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. This cannot be real. This cannot be happening. A dream. This must be a dream.

Crumbling, I slide to my knees before the door to Seto's hospital room and weep.

-----

Whispers. I can hear them calling to me. Hauntingly beautiful, hauntingly sad; they envelope me in their ethereal embrace.

I know not how long I have been sitting here, my head still lightly pressed against the door, my gaze transfixed to my hands, which are curled loosely on my knees. My lips move to words I do not know as I study the still wet blood that clings to my fingers.

Eyes half lidded I get slowly to my feet and, forcing my lips to stop their senseless movement, I brush my blooded fingers over my equally bloody lips. The coopery taste, which for eternity seems to have filled my senses, slowly fades before the combined taste of our blood floods back into my mouth. Somehow it is no longer bitter, but sweet, a taste of heaven upon my lips.

My lips twitching briefly upwards at the mockery, I wipe my mouth clean with the back of my hand and as I turn I find myself facing not the pristine, sterile hallways of the hospital but instead the grand foyer of Seto's mansion, its usual immaculateness thrown into a state of disarray at the blanket of clothes and odd objects that litter it's surface.

It has been years since I have been here, in dreams or otherwise. It felt...wrong to come back to this place knowing of Seto's wish that I not even look upon it with my traitorous eyes. So I had refused both Mokuba's pleading, and that of my heart.

Taking a deep breath I lean back against the door behind me, still the pristine white of the door leading to Seto's hospital room and staunchly out of place with its new surroundings.

Silence fills the room as I gaze dully at the clothes strewn floor, my gaze darting from one object to another, unconsciously cataloguing each item as my eyes pass them by. Jackets, shoes, and strewn glass from a shattered vase are noted successively before I realized that the silence I had been surrounded by wasn't as quiet as I had thought it was. Softly there is the sound of laughter -- a slightly hysterical sound that echo's around the foyer, slowly becoming louder as I notice it.

Covering my ears I try to block out the maddened sound, the sound of a shattered and tortured soul. My fingers claw almost painfully at my head as I shake it violently willing the sound to go away, to leave me in whatever peace I might find in this hellish place. Still it grows, louder and louder, filling every one of my senses with its sheer rawness of intense hurt and pain until, no longer able to bear it, I scream. I scream as loud as I can and for as long as I can, I scream until my throat and lungs burn with such an intensity that I choke and at that moment of silence, silence filled with only the soft, hoarse sounds of my gasping breathes do I realize that the laughter had come from within myself.

Slowly my fingers unfurl from where they are knotted in my hair as I straighten ignoring the moistness of fresh tears that trail coldly down my cheeks as an empty coldness seeps into me, into my very heart and soul, numbing the pain and hurt caused by a sin for which I shall never be free of the punishment.

Slowly I take in a shaky breath, pushing away from the door, my fingers trailing softly along its surface before coming to rest lifelessly at my side. Quietly I make my way through the chaos of strewn and broken things careful not to touch anything lest the numbing stillness within myself be broken. This way it doesn't hurt quite as much, to be here in this place where I am not wanted, this place where I am damned to be.

I feel nothing as I enter a long hallway. I embrace the nothingness, wrapping it around myself, around my heart like a shield. Hollowly I let my eyes trail where they will, catching quick glances into darkened rooms as I pass, fleeting impressions of figures and places in photographs that line the walls and a few tables interspersed at equal lengths along my path. Instinctually I stop in front of my destination my fingers reaching out to lightly brush against the doors cool wooden surface before pushing it gently open.

Stepping quietly into the kitchen I am met with a reflection of my own heart. Numbly I take in my surroundings, everything as I knew it would be save but one thing that was missing; Seto. Making my way over to the central counter I pause briefly before reaching out and letting the fingers of my right hand trail lightly atop its surface as I slowly make my way to where Seto should be sitting, my fingers falling to brush softly atop the stool.

A carton sits forlornly on the counter top, a spoon resting peacefully by its side. Noting somewhat the small sense of panic that rises within me before being washed away by nothingness I lean forward looking into the carton sure in what I am expecting to be there; however no blood fills it, just the liquidy remains of melting ice-cream. Somewhat perturbed I gingerly pick up the spoon dipping it lightly into the carton before brushing it against my blooded lips. The sour taste of cooper mingles with the sweetness of the dessert an odd contradiction to my senses, a reflection of this place that surrounds me.

Dropping the spoon to the counter top, ignoring the loud metallic clang that echoes off the walls, I turn my back to this scene retracing my steps back into the hallway from which I had come, back to the foyer and slowly up the grand staircase, echoes of past curses proceeding me only to fade into silence as I reach the top landing of the third floor. Stopping just outside of Seto's bedroom I rest my forehead lightly against the door, the numbness I wish so desperately to hold onto fading at the memories of the past, retreating in the face of my eternal nightmare.

Unwilling to let my indifference go I grab onto it, wrapping it more strongly around my heart and mind, shielding me from the horrors I know I have committed and the gradual insanity I know it to be driving me to.

Dimly the light from the hallway seeps into the room as the door is pushed gently open, bathing its occupants in a soft and ethereal light. The room is empty, a vague spirit of its true self. A whisper of sorrow fills my heart as I look in upon it and I almost leave when something catches my eye. Weary I enter slowly into the room coming to stand on the left side of Seto's bed and reaching out I pick up the single stemmed rose bud that lay there, its purity in color mocking the events that took place in this room, in this bed... Slowly the petal starts to unfurl and spread in an odd and sensual movement, white bleeding into a deep crimson as it blossoms fully. It stays suspended in that state for but a moment before the petals start to welt in upon themselves falling in gentle spirals towards the darkness of the sheets, the crimson fading to a pale, breathless pink.

Closing my eyes briefly I crush the wilted flower letting its remains drift through my fingers. When I open my eyes I am no longer surrounded by darkness and shadows but am instead sitting on a lush blanket of green, soft pink petals drift slowly to the earth all around me from where I sit leaning back against a tree. My lips twitch slightly into a mocking smile as the distant song of a bird is carried to me on the wind and my gaze drifts upwards, catching wisps of the blue sky amidst the gently swaying branches offering me their shade.

In the distance the soft sound of laughter and enjoyment can be heard, further mockery of my pain and guilt. Sighing I glance over toward the mass of people and tents before rising and moving slowly around the tree, my fingertips brushing lightly along its rough bark. Running, always running.

A name is carried to me on the wind and after a second I numbly move back around the tree to look out amongst the crowd. All seem to fade into the background as two people meet. I am prepared for what it is that I am about to be shown. I know that no matter how much I wish not to see I cannot turn away. This is my punishment and I accept it freely.

There is no coldness between him and I however. No awkward silence, no stiffening nor posturing, only a gentle casualness. I can see him smile at me as we talk and I almost want to move forward out from under the protective shade of my hiding place, to know what it is that he is saying to me, instead I move a step backwards, drawing on the coldness of the shadows, wanting but unable to turn away from this new form of torture.

Below I watch myself as I laugh, the sound carried lightly on the wind and at that laughing Seto smiles, somehow seeming pleased with himself and my reaction. Mesmerized I study that smile an expression I never thought I would again see upon his face, least of all caused by me. Gently the wind plays with Seto's hair and I'm surprised to see that other me reach up and run their fingers lightly through the mused strands. My heart aches in my chest as Seto's smile softens and reaching up he captures that hand brushing my other self's fingertips gently against his lips.

Closing my eyes in pain I mirror the action, brushing my own fingertips against my lips hating the person who is and yet is not me that seems to hold so much affection in Seto's eyes. That is what I wish had really happened on that day, that is the result I had wished from my failed attempt to force him to recognize, to see what it was that I feel so strongly for him.

My soul aches and as cold arms encircle me I do not draw away but instead lean back, tilting my head softly to the side as bloodied lips gently caress my neck and soft meaningless whispers surround me as I surrender to my reality. To my truth. I will never have that which is before me; I shall never know that joy nor peace. Even though Seto is awake, even though he no longer knows me, I know that I shall never truly have him. I can feel Seto's lips smile lightly against my flesh as a choking sob racks through my body, my knees trembling before giving out from underneath me and as I stumble Seto's hold on me loosens, his fingers whispering against my chilled skin as I am released from his embrace, allowed once more to be swallowed by darkness and despair.