Sevenfold

Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.
Date: July 1, 2007 (This is part one; the bit was so long I had to separate it into two parts.)
Warning: rated 'M' for bad language, angst stemming from severe depression, and sexual situations involving teenagers. Please don't disregard the rating - if anything listed above makes you uncomfortable, etc., then I would suggest not reading.

Green:Pride

I.

The teacher at the blackboard had been talking for what seemed like hours. She droned on and on endlessly, the green of the board behind her mesmerizing in its unending sameness. The lesson was important, and most of the other students were attentive, taking detailed notes.

But not Kaiba Seto. He couldn't concentrate - he was tired, and the lesson was only making him more and more fatigued. It was ridiculous - he was ready to go to the office, then home.

He stared at the sheet of paper on his desk. He had taken notes for the first half of the class, but after that he just didn't see the point. What did it matter if he knew the information, anyway? He exhaled, wishing for the class to just end.

To his immense pleasure, they were dismissed about ten minutes later. School had been terrible for him lately; he felt so out of place, and then disgusted with himself for feeling that way. He went to his locker to put away a few things, hundreds of bodies streaming behind him like some rushing body of water. He was a student, too, but he'd never really be a part of them. It felt to him as though there was one collective teenage consciousness - but he had no connection to it. He would always be outside. He would never understand because he would always be outside, like watching a smiling friend splash in a puddle through a thick window and a curtain of rain.

Such thoughts left an unpleasant sensation rolling around deep in his gut. He had never wanted interaction with others; he was not, by any means, a social being. But he couldn't even connect with Mokuba - his little brother, the only person he really cared about; Seto couldn't even talk to him. It had been over a week since he had actually held a full conversation with another human being. It gave him rather disconcerting pangs of what felt far too like loneliness.

The rest of the day passed by like a fog - work was nearly as monotonous as school. He enjoyed business and he made such a good CEO because he was competent and he truly enjoyed running his company. But not even that could break through the solid steel wall of apathy that seemed to have built itself around him. Nothing could penetrate this new, heavy burden that had settled itself upon his shoulders.

He sat at his laptop, staring at some designs he had brought home. Mokuba walked into the kitchen, humming some popular song under his breath. "Oh! Hi, Seto. Did you have a good day?"

"I guess." As good as any other day, really.

"Well, that's pretty cool, then. My day was great! School was really interesting; we had this lesson about - "

Seto listened half-heartedly as Mokuba cheerily babbled on. Mokuba always seemed so happy; everyday the boy was bubbling over with some great news, or some fun adventure. Seto just didn't understand it. It wasn't as though he didn't want to be happy - he had always imagined he was quite happy, indeed. But lately...

He sighed and decided he was probably just tired. Mokuba had moved on to a new topic, though, so he cleared his throat to interrupt. Mokuba paused and looked over.

"I'm tired, Mokuba - so forgive the inattention. I'm going upstairs to bed."

"Aren't you hungry, though? You only had a cup of tea for breakfast, and I know you don't eat at school anyway - "

"No. Not hungry." He shrugged. "I'll eat tomorrow morning, okay? Goodnight."

"Nii-sama! Nii-sama, are you sure you're - "

"I'm not hungry, Mokuba; stop worrying."

So he went to bed and slept until his alarm rang to get up and get ready for school the next morning. With a groan, he pulled himself out of bed and went to get in the shower. That became his routine: for the next three weeks, he'd go to school, go to work, go home and sleep until the next day - when he would get up and do it again.

It felt... bad, to put it bluntly. He couldn't shake off the feelings of gloom - and sudden anxiety. Where once he had been completely indifferent, he suddenly began to loathe the very thought of going to school. He felt so alone there; no one understood him, no one cared. Why should he even bother going? And it irritated him that he should feel that way. He didn't care what other people thought; he had no desire to spend any time with the race of callow, chronically stupid cretins that mucked about the school. He was better. He had always been better. So why suddenly the irrational feelings of - and he hated to even admit it - loneliness and isolation?

He wasn't a part of them because he had never wanted to be a part of them!

He hated it, and he was irritated at whatever part of himself was causing him to feel that way.

So one day, he just stayed home. He had all his work for the day faxed to him from KaibaCorp. - he could at least get a little something done; and without school taking up hours of his day, it only followed that he'd be much more productive. He wasn't avoiding his problems. That would mean that there was a problem and no way in hell was he going to admit that.

Kaiba Seto did not get ill; if he had problems, he solved them immediately. That was the way things were - the way things had always been.

So he stayed home the next day, as well.

And since two days hadn't had any truly negative consequences, he decided to miss two more.

Unfortunately, that brought him to his teachers' attention. Regardless of his attitude towards school (which, admittedly, had always been rather abyssmal), he had been a conscientious student. Missing four days made them think something had to be wrong. Which was how, one sunny afternoon, two of his fellow students found themselves outside his door, a small stack of work in the boy's hands.

"Thanks for coming with me," Mazaki Anzu said brightly as she rang the bell.

"Oh, it's no problem." Yugi smiled and shifted his weight to his other foot. "I mean... Well, I know Kaiba-kun hates us both, but I don't hate him - and I don't want him to be sick."

"I'm sure he's not sick," she responded. "He's probably just taking a self-mandated vacation."

"What?" The door had opened and there he stood - Kaiba Seto in all his glory, glaring as though they had just committed some unspeakable crime. "Why are the two of you here?"

Anzu grinned. "We brought your work! You haven't been at school - "

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

She ignored him. "So the teachers asked any of your friends if they would take your work to you. Since you don't have any, Yugi and I volunteered."

Seto sneered. "Should I be grateful?"

"That would certainly be the polite thing. But..." She shrugged.

"I can get my own work, Mazaki. I don't need you and - " His lip pulled up in a snarl as he looked at Yugi "-your little midget boyfriend here to do me any favors."

"Gee, you're welcome! I forgot how pleasant you are to be around." She sighed as Kaiba snatched the papers from Yugi. "You know, four days really wasn't enough of a break. Come on, Yugi-kun - let's get out of here before he decides to bite one of us."

He stood in his doorway, watching the two of them walk away. They didn't care about him, he knew. Did they just come to throw it in his face? But he fucking hated both of them, so at least the loathing was fully - fully - reciprocated.

He returned to school after that. Things were rapidly spiraling further out of his control. He felt dazed, like he was in the middle of some dream. Nothing caught his interest; nothing at all even mattered. It was strange to know his body was there, but to have his mind feel a million miles away.

The bell rang; he blinked, and the world shifted momentarily back into focus. Every day was like rewatching a grainy old film in which he would never have the leading role. He went immediately to his locker - a safehaven. He sighed wearily and leaned down, his forehead nearly touching the cold metal of his locker.

But he wouldn't allow himself more than just that moment. He looked up - and when he did, for a split-second he caught Mazaki Anzu's eye. She looked off quickly, but all the same it was disconcerting. That was his first clue that she had figured out something was wrong.

And even if he had known then that she had seen how lonely he was, he was too proud to ever ask for help. What he didn't realize, of course, was that she was more than prepared to give it to him anyway.

XXXXXX

"Hey! Kaiba-kun! Wait up." Anzu stopped beside a scowling Kaiba, panting as she caught her breath.

He did not seem pleased to see her. "What is it, Mazaki? I'm a busy man."

She smiled. "I was wondering if you wanted to do something this afternoon with the boys and me."

There was no immediate reaction. "The 'boys'. And you." He cast her a very unpleasant look. "Let me think about that, Mazaki. You wait here." And he began to walk away.

"Are you sure?" she called. "We'd love to have you."

"I doubt that," he answered. "Just leave me the hell alone."

"Well think about it, okay?" He rolled his eyes. "Bye, Kaiba-kun! See you tomorrow!"

The next day, the same thing happened. She came up to him after school let out and asked him if he wanted to hang with her, Yugi and the others. He responded - predictably - with a firm no. And it happened again the day after that. He was getting slightly bewildered by her behavior; why, after so many refusals - after all their history - she still insisted on extending such an invitation.

After three more days of that, he decided to inquire. "Mazaki," he said angrily, wheeling around to face the unsuspecting girl, "why do you continue to harrass me when I clearly have no interest in you or your little gang of misfits?"

She blinked. "Well..." She looked up at him. There was no guile on her face, nothing hidden or deceitful about her. "You looked lonely."

Anzu hit so close to home that it actually startled him. But his surprise only showed for a moment, and soon his face was back to its meticulously crafted indifference. He glared at her. "I," he said, slowly and deliberately, "am not only. I have never been lonely and I will never be lonely. However, should I ever seek companionship, it will not be from you or the herd of untamed mongrels that comprises your group of friends."

He had expected that to deter her, but Anzu was nothing if not determined when it came to people. "Well how about I come over some time, then? I know Mokuba would love to have me - even if you don't. And if you want to join us, that would be okay, too."

"I don't want you near my brother."

"What, afraid I'm contagious?"

"You exude stupidity - as an impressionable youth, he may pick up on it."

At that point he was more than ready to walk away, but she stopped him with a small hand on his wrist. "Please," she said, her flesh far too warm against his. "I'd love to be your friend - if you let me."

It felt far better than it should to have real, human contact. But it was Mazaki, so he snatched his arm away. "I don't want to be your friend." He glared at her fiercely and stormed off, leaving her standing alone on the sidewalk. There was nothing there he wanted; he could take care of himself, and he didn't need her pity or her friendship.

But their conversation wouldn't leave him, and as he showered that night, her words replayed themselves over in his head. A friend. She had noticed he was lonely. And oh, goddamnit, he was - he was so lonely that it left an empty, aching hole in the middle of his belly. Nothing would work - he was so close to actually taking Mazaki up on her offer, because things were only getting worse.

Fuck, it hurt.

He slammed his fist into the shower wall and growled, his teeth clenched so tight it hurt his jaw. It hurt so badly he couldn't take it! He was unhappy - no, he was miserable. Nothing, not even things he once loved, held his interest; he got close to no work done; even his relationship with Mokuba was suffering. It was maddening. He couldn't take it - he just couldn't take it.

Whatever he did, the feelings persisted. He had tried changing to a healthier diet; he exercised - he had even tried hiring a fucking yoga instructor! Nothing worked! And then, when one person - one girl who might be able to lend a hand - had tried to reach out, he had shunned her, tried to drive her away.

"Damn it!" he cried angrily, hurling the bar of soap into the wall. It stuck, a wet, sudsy mass on the wall - then slid down, leaving a green-tinted trail behind. But that wasn't enough.

He pulled the curtain back so fast that half the rings came off their hooks. "Damn it! I'm tired!" He grabbed a bottle of anti-dandruff shampoo and hurled it into the mirror. His arm was strong, and the hard plastic top left a crack. He took conditioner.

"Fuck!" Bam, into the mirror.

"Fuck!" Body wash.

"Fuck!" Mokuba's bubble bath.

He picked up a small, wooden scrub brush. "I'M SO FUCKING TIRED!" He threw it, hard, and the mirror shattered.

His strength suddenly gone, he fell back against the wall. "I'm so fucking tired..." he whispered, his voice soft and hoarse. He sank down onto the floor of the tub, turning off the water on the way. It was ridiculous; he should be stronger. He hated himself for being so weak - so damn weak! He could take it - he had always fought before. Always.

"But I can't," he said miserably. "I can't..." He curled in on himself, hands in his hair, pulling hard. "I can't do it anymore."

He wouldn't cry. It hurt - but he would never cry.

He didn't want to move. So he stayed, a naked, shuddering mass - until he fell asleep there on the bathtub floor.

And in the morning, he pretended nothing had happened at all.

XXXXXX

Anzu had not given up. On the contrary, the response she was met with had only spurred her on. Clearly, the man had no idea just how in need of her bright, sunny demeanor he really was. Only one person could find the chinks in Kaiba Seto's armor, and she wasted no time in inlisting his aid.

"So," she said, wrapping up her speech to Mokuba, "you can see why I'm worried. I don't know if you've noticed it since you don't see him at school, but I think Kaiba-kun needs a friend!" She smiled. "And I'm here to provide one."

"Yeah," Mokuba said, swinging his legs under his chair, "nii-sama's been pretty down lately. I'm not sure about lonely, but he does seem sad. But he won't talk about it! If you can help, then I'm in!"

She hugged the boy tightly. "Thanks so much! I'll see you tonight?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

And so when Seto arrived home from work, there was not one smiling face waiting for him in the normally peaceful retreat of his kitchen, but two. "Good evening!" they chirped merrily.

"Look," Mokuba said, brandishing a large plate. "Anzu and I made cookies!" Seto almost smiled, his little brother looked so proud.

"That's right!" Anzu said. "And if you want to help us eat them, then you have to cheer up."

This brought his attention to her. "Mazaki... What the hell are you doing here?"

"I invited here!" Mokuba said. "That's okay, right, Seto? Anzu's really nice!" As though to prove this, Anzu smiled and put a familiar hand around the boy's shoulders. "The cookies are really good."

Seto grunted. "I have nothing to say to her; Mokuba, don't eat too many cookies and... do your homework. I'm going to my office." And with the proverbial black rain cloud over his head, he stomped off to his office.

"Are you going to follow him?" Mokuba asked in a whisper.

Anzu nodded, a finger to her lips. "Yes. Shh - we don't want him to hear!" So she crept up behind Seto, arriving at his door just after he had sat down.

When he saw her, he was furious. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, standing up angrily. "You can play with Mokuba all you want, but don't you dare trespass into areas I go to get away from people like you. Get out."

"I'm sorry," she said, stepping inside. "But I only want to help."

"I don't need your help," he snarled. "Get the fuck out of my house. Now."

"You do need help!" she said firmly, stomping her foot. "There's something wrong. You - "

"And what if there is something wrong? What business is that of yours? Don't you think I can handle myself? Don't you think I can cope?" He was working himself up, he knew, but he couldn't seem to stop. "Why do you insist on interfering? If I want to endure this on my own, you're going to damn well let me!" He knocked everything off his desk in a sudden, impulsive burst of fury. "I don't care! Do you hear me, Mazaki? I DON'T CARE!" He began pacing around in a wide circle. "I will handle this on my own. I do not want your help; I do not need your help, and..." He trailed off when he happened to look over towards her.

Anzu's lips were trembling, her eyes blinking back the oncoming tears. "Oh my god..." she said softly. "What's... what's wrong with you?"

His heart stopped a moment and suddenly his anger was gone. With finality in his voice he said "Nothing," and turned away.

She didn't let that stop her. With hesitant steps, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Her hands clasped together on his stomach, and she pressed her cheek to his back.

"Mazaki..." He sighed. "Let go of me."

She shook her head. "No."

"Bitch."

She ignored him and only held him tighter. It was strange to have her body pressed so close to his own - real, tangible moment, not a dream. Her breasts were pressed into his back, soft and strange - it was a foreign sensation to him to be held, and he didn't like it. He felt an itch all over suddenly, and he wanted to get far, far away from her. She was so small - her head only came up to his shoulder.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked wearily.

"I told you - I want to be your friend. I care about Mokuba, and if you let me I'll care about you, too." She took a deep, sniffling breath. "You're so sad. It hurts to watch you suffering like this. I only want to help you."

"I don't want your help."

She squeezed gently, giving him the closest thing to a hug she could. "I'm not asking you to accept it; you only have to stand back and... let me give it anyway."

That, he supposed, just might be something he could deal with.

So Anzu became a permanent fixture in his life, then - smiling at him when they crossed paths at school, and coming over every day she could in the afternoons. It wasn't exactly pleasant for him, but she made Mokuba happy, and another person in his life probably wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him.

He wasn't deluding himself, however. She wasn't helping him because she actually cared for him personally; oh no, she merely saw a fellow creature in trouble and - even if it was Kaiba - couldn't let them suffer without interfering in some way. Not the best basis for a friendship, perhaps, but if she was offering, then he would greedily take what he could get. And before long, he could tolerate her. She seemed to tolerate him, as well, and soon he realized that she had come to care for him. She more than cared, in fact - he was startled to discover that she was well on her way to falling in love with him.

It began with smiles. She would look so happy to see him that it was a little embarrassing. Then came more touching - she would brush against him accidentally, or put her hand on his arm when she spoke to him. Even before she realized that she actually liked him, he could see that already that there was something romantic there. However nice it might have been to have another person there for him, he did not hesitate in thinking of ways to take advantage of her feelings. Because he certainly felt nothing for her.

"Kaiba-kun," she said one afternoon (he didn't have to work that day), when they were in his living room watching television, "how are you doing today? You're looking happier." He knew her well enough to know she didn't flatter herself it was due to her influence. "Are things... better?"

He didn't look at her. "Things... are fine."

"Oh. Well that's good."

She turned back to the television. But he felt the next question coming. "I..." She stopped and tried to gather her thoughts. "There's something I need to... to tell you."

Seto almost smirked. He knew what she had to tell him; he had known long before she had. She radiated nervousness; he sat next to her on the couch, and he could feel the waves of nervous energy coming off her as strongly as if they were gusts of wind. "I know," he responded.

Anzu was startled. "You... do?"

He nodded. Then he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Of course I know; you've made it far too obvious."

"What do you mean? I - "

But he interrupted her - with a quick, decisive kiss.

She let out a little gasp. "Why did you... Why did you kiss me?"

"Because you wanted me to."

"N-no! No, I didn't want - "

He cut her off again; this time, longer and with more warmth. She gaped, her eyes alight with desire and a sort of excited fear. She was realizing they were alone, he could see the thoughts racing through her head. Mokuba was gone, and Seto had just kissed her - she was afraid he was going to throw her down with intrusive, invasive touch, but at the same time, oh god - she wanted him to.

"How did..." Anzu swallowed nervously. Her voice was quiet, like a whisper. "How did you know?"

Her arms wound themselves around his neck, and suddenly he found her much more willing to continue. Her mouth was so close to his... He hadn't wanted more, he hadn't even felt a spark when he kissed her. "I knew before you did," he said thickly. "You're so obvious, Mazaki." Her eyes closed and she leaned in further. "So obvious..."

And then, she kissed him, her lips warm and insistent against a mouth that was lifeless and cold.

When he began to respond, she melted, her whole body sighing down into a soft surrender. She seemed to sense that nothing could rouse him into wild passion, because she was gentle, all her touches tender. His shirt was undone quickly, and after a moment she took her own off as well. He cupped her breasts over the soft, green cotton bra she wore. It had daisies on it. Daisies. They were yellow and white.

He wanted to scream. Daisies. All he could think about were fucking daisies, and he had a half-naked woman in his arms. He leaned down into her shoulder, his nose on her collarbone. She stroked his hair and kissed his temple. His hand landed on her knee. She put gentle fingertips on either side of his head, and slowly helped him lift it. When their eyes met, she smiled - and something inside him broke into a thousand pieces. Suddenly she kissed him, hard. Her hand slipped behind her back, and in another second she was sliding her bra down her arms and tossing it off to the side.

He concentrated as hard as he could on the warm, wet sensation of her tongue against his own; anything, anything to end the dream, to remember he was alive, to feel - to feel again! His slid his hand slowly up her thigh, the smooth skin like silk under his fingertips. She moaned softly and he felt his body jerk.

Kissing her neck, he slid his hand further under her skirt - his hand was between her legs, and he pulled away to watch her face. Her eyes were closed. She felt so hot through the thin fabric of her underwear, and - with new, pulsing purpose - he touched her.

Her mouth opened and she moaned again, a mangled version of his name on her lips. He watched her - because he had never seen her more beautiful than she was then, nearly breathless, breasts heaving, his fingers inside her.

XXXXXX

Two months passed, and the time brought with it a new, welcome sense of reality. He could breathe again; he could see. He felt no more anxiety, no more loneliness, no more anything but blessed, blessed normality.

"I told you things would get better," Anzu said, gripping his hand tightly in her own. "I knew you'd be okay."

He nodded, but said nothing. He wished with all his heart that she had been the cause - that it would never happen again. But he knew that somehow it had faded on its own. There was still that shifting, trembling bomb inside him; he did not know what had caused it, and he did not know when it would go off again.

But he could hope that, for a few more precious months - after such a deadening haze - he could be himself again.

: to be continued :
(Part Two is chapter twenty-four. Which will be up by the end of the week, I promise.)