Shadow: Right…so this is the time I was expecting to be uploading my last chapter – and then schoolwork got in the road. Y'know, I was doing a chapter a day just fine till all the stupid essays showed up. (sighs) There are two more chapters to come after this, beware – tissues may be required. (smiles suddenly) I'm fully expecting to be beaten around the head for the cliffhanger in this chapter anyway...

Warnings: Shonen-ai pairings (boy x boy) - mostly Prideshipping (YY x SK) but with hints of Darkshipping (YY x YB).Angst, and character death.

Disclaimer: I'm happy with my own little bunch of nothing. At the moment, anyway. When I suddenly feel like taking over multi-national corporations and owning rights to everything including the air you breathe, I'll let you know.

Flashbacks and other thoughts are in italics.

Thoughts that take place in italic sections are in bold italics.

Both sides of the border

Curse

Death is sudden.

There are many doors leading into death, and each one opens quickly, snapping closed on a hand that may have reached out to drag a loved one safe home again. There are those that have found a way back from death, quickly scrambling back from the dark land to the sunshine and kisses of their family and friends. But they are the ones who have not gone too far; there is no resurrection for those too long wrapped in the black shroud. Those left behind can only mourn.

Nobody ever questions, really, what the 'other side' is like. Death, and all related to it, is taboo in modern society. Amen, their souls are gone but will never be forgotten – and the subject is discarded. Some, the more frowned upon in society, ask questions about the thereafter, querying God, Satan, Heaven, Hell and whether such things exist. The true answer? No-one will ever know. But people can wonder. And they can question. And they can pray for their loved ones that have already left them.

For who truly knows what death is like?

Bakura actually seemed to be getting worried. "Yami, it may be Samhain, but you mustn't do this. I know you're in pain but you must let him be." Yami was ignoring him again. As the moon rose higher the former pharaoh's mood swings grew ever more frequent, crimson eyes flashing fiery ire at him one moment and dim embers the next. Apathy, rage, grief, love and sorrow…all of these were things Bakura was well-accustomed to seeing in his once-rival's eyes. It hurt, in many ways, for him to realise that there was nothing he could do to help Yami while the other continued to ignore his words, but there was little he could do about it. Yami hurtled along his own private path of destruction and no power on earth could halt him – except Yami himself. Bakura could only watch, sad that such a proud man could be so swiftly broken, and try to slow Yami's steps just a little so at least the royal spirit could see what hell lay ahead of him before he reached it, a silent plea to what was left of the other's sanity to stop.

There were worse things than death out there.

"Yami…you would still be with him now, even aware of what that entails?"

It was drawing on evening, and the world outside the kitchen window was growing dim while inside was pleasantly light. A cosy atmosphere permeated the room, the delicious smell of spaghetti bolognaise emanating from the stove where a young man was working, the scent floating out of the kitchen door and filling the rest of the mansion he called home. The male hummed as he cooked, glad for once there were no others there to observe him and comment on his unusually good mood.

His lover was due in soon from where he had been out shopping, Mokuba too from playing at his friend's. It would nice, for once, for all of them to sit down and eat together as a family – and it was with that idea in mind he'd sent the staff home early so he could prepare the dinner himself.

But what about something different to drink…?

The young man reached into the fridge, pulling out a bottle of red wine he'd left there earlier to cool. Quickly he poured out two glasses for himself and his partner, about to pour a third when he remembered Mokuba's distaste for the stuff. Another rummage in the fridge procured a can of cola, and this he set beside the raven-haired teenager's space on the table. That done, he went to go check on the spaghetti again, taking a sip of his wine after he'd turned the food down to simmer.

And promptly dropped the glass, clutching two hands to his body as a sudden lance of pain ripped through his chest. "Ah…"

Blood-red liquid spilled everywhere, the glass shattering into a hundred wickedly gleaming shards.

"…I hate you."

Bakura nearly missed the whisper, so quiet was it compared to the nearly silent breeze that played with the white strands of his hair.

"…Why?"

A shiver, Yami's skin paler than it had used to be. "You have to ask? You can still see him…"

"…Oh." The thief's tone was soft. "I…guess so."

"You guess so?" Sarcasm laced the pharaoh's words. "You know so! You do so!" He scowled, voice dipping towards venomous. "Again and again you do so and you keep coming back here! Why can't you leave me alone?"

Bakura swallowed, dipping his head slightly. "…I fear for what you may actually accomplish."

"So you believe I will succeed?"

"Oh, I have no doubt you will succeed." A self-mocking smile twisted the albino's lips. "You are the King of Games after all; no power in existence can, has or will take that from you."

"…Then why fear…? If I always win -" All venom in Yami's voice had disappeared, ruby eyes lighting with hope and shimmering with a soft luminescence that took his watcher's breath away.

Reluctantly, berating himself, Bakura tore his gaze away from Yami's. "Per-a'a…be careful what you wish for." A steadying breath. "Others have 'won' before..."

The day was done and the moon had not yet come out, the world lost in the eve between shadows and true darkness. Chill winds swept the earth, stars slowly coming to life in the dimming blue – not yet black – of the sky above. Leaves danced and the trees groaned, and a pale shadow slipped from a stately mansion into the breeze of Samhain, the evening twining soft arms about it and drawing it onwards.

In another mansion's grounds, in the same place, another wraith rested under a tree by the lakeside.

The scowl was back. "You always hated me being with him, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did." Bakura's voice was calm. "I hated every smile he shot your way, every gentle touch upon your face or arm. Every time he kissed you I was insane with jealousy- I envied him your love. I still envy it now, still seeing the devotion you show him."

Stunned words: "How can you say these things?"

The albino ignored the question. "He made your eyes shine with joy. It was wonderful to see such happiness – as wonderful as how terrible it is to see now your eyes full of pain."

'Always, always picking at unhealed scars!'

"How can you say these things?"

A sad smile. "Because they're true."

"That doesn't men you have to say them!"

"What is it, Yami?" Brown eyes stared fiercely into crimson. "Why are you so afraid of the truth? You know it as well as I do! You knew what you were getting into when you left the Puzzle, you knew fine well what you were going to get when you started dating Kaiba – so he's gone! Big deal! People die all the time!"

Bakura knew he'd gone too far when Yami's face completely drained of all colour, the royal spirit turning on his heel and racing for the trees surrounding the lake. The tomb-reached out a hand, desperately trying to snatch the other's hand before he got too far, but Yami shook him off, gone in the blink of an eye.

"Yami-!"

The thief took off after him, darting after the elusive monarch while internally yelling at himself. So busy were both he and Yami running, that neither of them properly noticed that at last, the moon had finally risen fully…

Nose pressed to the glass of the door pane he could see in, shoving away doctors and residents that tried to move him. Mokuba was with Yugi, the two lost in the midst of friends, so many mingled tears it was impossible to identify just who it was that had started crying first.

Maybe it was him.

"Sir, please, perhaps we could-"

"Get away from me!"

A few people around him stared, Yugi raising his head from Mokuba to send a worried glance his way. Hell, they were all worried. A shake, and the amethyst-eyed hikari was once again concentrating on the raven-haired teenager weeping in his lap. Yugi needed something to concentrate on.

As did he.

His focus however was in the room he stared so ardently into, gaze refusing to be torn from the slim form that lay surrounded by furiously-working doctors and surgeons, the dear frame that he knew as well as his own lying battered and broken, bloodied and bruised and fighting for life.

"Please…" Eyes were clenched shut, fingernails digging into his palms so hard to draw blood, tears spilling through his lashes and running down his cheeks. He didn't care who saw him anymore, as long as his lover would be safe, as long as he could go in there and kiss the beautiful youth he was so madly in love with, wipe away the hurt and never leave him again. Silent pleas to whoever was out there…they couldn't do this to him. Hadn't he already been through enough? Hadn't they both been through enough?

The machines mocked him, delicate wires twisting around smooth skin and relaying messages to graphs and squiggles he didn't entirely understand.

Beep.

…

Beep.

A hand on his arm.

Eyes flickered open, fixing on the tear-blurred form of the thief, Bakura.

"What?" His words were raspy, torn from a hurting throat.

The albino ducked his head in acknowledgement of the other's pain, usually sneering voice a so quiet as to be barely heard.

"…Can I stand here with you?"

Blank, dark gaze, once more turning away. "…Do what you will."

Beep.

…

Beep.

His lover was still bleeding…why couldn't they do anything about that? Why weren't they doing anything about that? The sweet features he so often admired were scarred, a jagged wound stretching from jaw to hairline, a slash covering the other's waist.

…

Beep.

…

Beep.

…

…

…

Beep.

…

…

…

The surgeons were working faster, but the sound he suddenly longed to hear was coming and less frequently. "No…"

Beep.

…

…

…

And then a high-pitched, monotonous, ear-splitting whine.

Bakura was easy to avoid, when you became accustomed to avoiding him.

Yami sighed, collapsing against the tree from where he'd first ran off. He'd ran around in a circle, slipping past the thief numerous times and leaving him wandering through a notably dense patch of wood. A simple spell fooled the Millennium Ring, and now he was alone again. Gods, it had barely been half an hour and already he felt as if he'd left this place that was so close to him for eons.

Hadn't this been the place where Seto had first kissed him…?

By my blood and by this light,

Return to me this Samhain night.

Idle patterns were drawn down one arm, feather-light brushes tickling the golden skin. "You know…the origins of mask and costume-wearing lie in the old folklore that on the night of All Hallow's, evil spirits and faeries roam."

"Oh?" Yami fought to keep his expression neutral; the other's touch was sending tingles of pleasure racing throughout his entire body.

"Yes, oh." A shadowy smile was shot his way, dark eyes regarding him with an almost feline amusement. "Samhain is the night when the worlds bleed into one another, and the borders between life and death simply fall away. Costumes were worn to deceive the spirits, as it was thought the fey creatures would 'steal' a beautiful mortal they desired, and call them to death before their time…" A pregnant pause. "Make sure your costume's a good one this year, Yami."

"And why's that?" The Egyptian spirit found himself unable to move, unable to think clearly with his gaze locked by impossibly dark, dark blue.

Warm breath against his ear, the sudden heat sending shivers down his spine. "…I'm not quite willing to relinquish you to the faeries yet...though I guess I could always just steal you first…"

"'Steal me first'?" Yami couldn't help the quirk of amusement at the corners of his lips. "And how, my would-be captor, do you intend to do that? Despite my size, I am not so easily carried away."

A low chuckle was his reward. "You would not willingly be stolen? A pity…perhaps I could change your mind."

Lips trailed over his skin, moving upwards to place a soft kiss upon his lips. A gentle touch – the first kiss he could remember in a long time and no less worthy for the wait. It took little for thought to flee Yami's mind, and even less for him to wrap his arms around Kaiba's neck, dragging the other's head down to a more comfortable height, eyes slipping closed. They were lost then, both of them, the night wrapping velvety arms around the couple, the falling autumn leaves a whisper that cloaked the soft words and cries, stealing the light from fey lanterns and whisking it away to a land of half-hidden dreams and desires.

The world fell still.

Ruby irises glanced upwards, suddenly noticing the full moon at its peak. Yami didn't need a clock to know the time.

Midnight.

The wind rustled the leaves, sending them in dancing spirals around his slender form, golden bangs whipping across his face. The moon turned the world around him to silver, a starlit painting of soft blues and whites, the barrier between worlds broken and leaving him walking in a land of spirits and dreams.

Eyes the colour of warm flame drifted closed.

Where are you? I cannot find you however hard I look.

'I left a lantern to guide you home…'

The light is fading.

'Then follow my soul. I've called to you for so long…please, don't leave me alone. I can't bear it here alone…'

Insubstantial hands traced the curve of his face.

I called to you too.

'I know.'

Knowledge stole into his mind, a delicate branch of white that cobwebbed around his thoughts, filming them in sparkling strands of silver.

Why did you leave me?

'I had no choice…'

The breeze blew softly, the quiet shhh of the branches above Yami a low melody that coaxed dark lashes to open once more. Blue, blue eyes, the flawless shade of perfect sapphire, gazed at him, wind playing with the deep chocolate locks that framed a face surely even the Gods' envied.

Samhain is the night when the worlds bleed into one another, and the border between life and death simply falls away…

Lips parted, a muted word falling to the night.

"Seto…"