Disclaimer: I got 99 problems, and not owning Yu-Gi-Oh! is definitely one of them.

Trigger Warning: Cutting, suicide

"Everybody says
That time heals the pain
I've been waiting forever
That day never came."

~That Day, Tokio Hotel

Chapter 15

Seto sat at his desk, idly twirling his knife around, slowly drilling a hole into the wood with the tip of the blade. There were spatters of blood here and there on the desk's smooth finish, on the carpet next to the chair, on the chair. There were smears of it on his hands and his wrist of course, and on the knife. It was under his nails and in the grooves of his hands.

It was still oozing out of the incision he'd made in his wrist as he continued to drill the knife tip into the wood, tiny splinters mixing with the small pools of blood.

Normally cutting himself brought with it a sense of relief. This time: nothing. Pain, certainly, but even that had only been momentary. He felt nothing now.

He'd been sitting at his desk for almost two hours. He knew that it was early in the morning, but time meant very little to him. He'd slept so much in the past two weeks that when he'd woken up he couldn't go back to sleep no matter how long he lay in bed with his eyes closed. That had been almost five hours ago. He felt a flicker of annoyance towards Trudy for having (sneakily she had thought) removed the bottle of sleeping pills from his bathroom cabinet along with all the other bottles of pills he stored there, afraid, he had no doubt, that he might try to overdose on them.

An overdose would never be his style though. If he was going to take his own life, he wanted it to be by his own hand, not through the use of some agent like pills. Besides, he didn't want his last few minutes alive to be spent throwing up.

Did he really want to die? Had it come to that? These were the questions he'd spent the past two hours contemplating. After thinking long and hard he had come to the conclusion that yes, he wanted to die. It wasn't as dramatic a decision as one might think given that it was a question he'd been asking himself for years.

He'd always planned on taking his own life once Mokuba was of age and taken care of. Then his justification for suicide had been because he would have completed his function. With nothing else to live for he might as well die and be remembered as a success rather than face having to continually outdo himself for the rest of his life to stay number one. That had been childish he realized now.

The blood on his wrist started to congeal and he continued to twirl the knife between his fingers, the rhythm and pressure steady.

Back then, even though he'd made detailed plans for how and when to kill himself, he hadn't really wanted to die, it had just seemed logical. Cutting himself had never been a way to flirt with death, but rather, a method to siphon off his feelings of stress, loneliness, and failure.

Now, he truly had no will to live anymore. He was sick and tired of always getting the short end of the stick, of being punished for trying to do the right thing, of never being good enough, of feeling completely and utterly alone. He wanted everything to just stop.

Seto did not believe in God or gods, or an afterlife of any kind. He believed that when a person died that was it. Game over. As a child that had terrified him, as an adult he found it strangely comforting.

Up until that morning his thoughts had been scattered and uncertain. He'd felt sad then angry, then sad again, the two emotions continuously vying for his mood, but now his head was completely clear. He felt perfectly calm.

If he was going to do it, there were a few things that needed sorting out first. He finally set the knife down on the table and stood up, slightly dizzy both from blood loss and hunger. He needed his laptop and he needed paper or else someone might call foul play. But first he needed to clean himself up.

As he stood under the shower he watched the blood wash off his wrist and hands, momentarily discoloring the otherwise clear water as it ran down the drain. He thought of all the times that he and Alistair had showered together, of how Alistair looked when his wet hair clung to his face, water droplets dripping off his skin.

He had stopped asking himself why the redhead had done this to him several days before. In the end it didn't really matter; he'd betrayed him plain and simple. It was funny though. He'd been so hurt and so angry when he'd first found out, but now he couldn't even bring himself to hate him. Even thought it had all been fake on the other man's side, it had not been fake on his. He'd loved Alistair even though he'd never said so in so many words.

He'd truly been happy for the first time in years. Perhaps the saying: 'it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all' wasn't so idiotic after all.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom just as Trudy walked in holding a tray. She jumped in surprise when she saw him.

"Oh! Seto! You gave me quite a fright!" she said, steadying the tray. This was the first time she'd seen him up and about and acting in any way normal since the day Alistair had left. She was deeply relieved that Seto finally seemed to be snapping out of his depression.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine. I'll just leave this here." She set the tray on the bed and quickly left again. Had she walked around the bed to place it on the desk she would have seen the blood and the knife. He wasn't sure if he was glad that she hadn't or not.

He pulled on a set of fresh clothes before setting his laptop flat on the desk, over several splashes of blood, and booting it up.

As soon as Trudy got downstairs, she hurried to her apartment where her husband, the groundskeeper George was still sitting and eating his breakfast.

"Who are you calling?" he asked her around a mouthful of toast as she plucked the phone off the counter and scanned the list of phone numbers she kept on the wall next to it.

"Mokuba," she said, dialing. "Seto's out of bed today." George had never understood his wife's attachment to Seto Kaiba. He was unpleasant with an immature streak in the groundskeeper's opinion, which he'd told his wife on several occasions.

"He finally ready to stop wallowing in self pity?" Trudy hung up the phone abruptly and put her hands on her hips.

"He was heartbroken, the poor thing. He thought that he'd been betrayed by one of the people he cared the most about. You'd be upset too."

"Maybe if he wasn't the kind of person who did things that make you want to betray him he wouldn't be so paranoid."

"Now George, that's not fair and you know it. I've been over this with you at least a hundred times. It's not his fault that he's like that. That horrible man made him this way. Ten years ago I stood in this very kitchen and I said that I didn't think any good would come of Mr. Kaiba adopting those boys, you remember?"

"I remember."

"He poisoned his mind with all his talk of not being able to trust people."

"Mokuba seems fine," George pointed out.

"That's only because he had Seto to protect him from all of that, but Seto didn't have anyone to protect him. I tried, you know I did, but there was only so much I could do…"

"It's not your fault he turned out like he did. He was an obnoxious kid and he's an obnoxious adult and the sooner you stop acting like he's your child and that it's somehow because of something you did or didn't do that he's so detestable the happier you'll be. I will never understand what you and Alistair see in him. How is he anyway? You heard from him since the day you dropped Sewell off with him?" She shook her head.

"I think he's afraid he'll get me in trouble with Seto. He seemed alright when I saw him, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was still upset about the whole thing."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." George set his coffee cup down on the table with a dull thud. "How can you just throw someone who you've been in a relationship with for almost a year under the bus like that without even hearing them out? If I were Alistair, I'd be pretty pissed off myself."

"Language, dear. And yes, I agree that that was an extreme reaction, but you have to acknowledge that Seto is not a normal young man; he grew up under very unusual circumstances. He's been more or less isolated from the world since he was ten years old; you can't expect him to react to things the way the average person would." George shook his head, but didn't retort. He and Trudy had had this discussion many times in the past decade and neither of them was willing to budge.

"You're probably right. Anyway, I've got to get going if I'm going to get to Janet's place on time." He stood up and pushed his chair in.

"Don't forget to give the kids a kiss from me," Trudy reminded him. "And ask Janet for that jambalaya recipe she told me about."

"Will do." He pulled his jacket off a hook by the door and stuck a hand in his pocket to make sure he had the keys to their small white car. "Try not to worry so much about him," he told Trudy after giving her a kiss. "I'll call you when I'm on my way back."

After he was gone Trudy called Mokuba.

Mokuba, who was sitting at his brother's desk in his office at the Kaiba Corp skyscraper, trying to answer an email he'd received from the Chinese computer software company Sapphire, felt his phone vibrate. Wearily, he answered when he saw that it was Trudy.

"Hello?"

"Mokuba! Seto's out of bed. I went up to bring him breakfast and he had just come out of the shower. I thought you'd want to know that he seemed a lot better." Relief, the likes of which he'd never known, flooded through the raven-haired teen.

"That's great news Trudy. I'm on my way." He started to hang up.

"I wouldn't say anything to him about Alistair if I were you."

"Don't worry: I wasn't planning on it. I've seen enough of this place in the past two weeks to last me a lifetime."

After getting off the phone with Trudy, Mokuba paged Roland to ask if he could take over for him for the day. Roland reluctantly agreed, and Mokuba raced to the company parking structure, calling Alfred for a ride on his way. He waited the ten minutes it took the limo driver to get there extremely impatiently, wanting to get to the mansion as soon as possible to see for himself whether or not his brother was back to normal.

Seto wasn't even a third of the way finished with what he needed to do when he heard a car pulling up the driveway. He saw Mokuba hop out and quickly set the paper he'd been writing on on his laptop keyboard and closed the lid, strategically placing the computer over the worst of the bloodstains on his desk. Afterwards, he carefully placed his knife in the bottom drawer and got up to sit on the bed, knowing that he wouldn't have to wait long for his brother to make an appearance in his doorway.

Sure enough, Mokuba wrenched the door open only seconds later.

"Seto!" he exclaimed, noting that the brunette had changed his clothes and taken a shower. He rushed to embrace his older sibling, hugging him around the neck and pressing his face into Seto's shoulder. "Promise me that you won't scare me like that again," he demanded, squeezing.

"I promise," Seto said honestly. If all went as planned, it was a promise he was prepared to keep.

"You better not!" Mokuba shifted position so that he was looking into his brother's slightly gaunt face. "I almost really did take over Kaiba Corp this time." He'd hoped his statement would elicit a smile, but Seto's face was utterly expressionless.

"You've been going into work for me?"

"Of course. It's like you always say: Kaiba Corp doesn't just run itself."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Being you?" Mokuba found the questions strange, but he was grateful that Seto was talking at all. "It's kind of boring being in charge to be honest, and I can't believe the amount of emails you get a day, but I guess it's ok. There's a lot about running KC that I still don't really get though, so it's a good thing you're back! You are going to go back to work, right?"

"Not today," Seto replied evasively. "Anyway, don't you have homework or something to do?"

"No. Weren't you listening? I've been acting as CEO since you've been gone. I haven't had time for school."

"Fine. But I need some time on my own, so could you find something to do that doesn't involve being in here?" Mokuba stared at him incredulously.

"That's all you have to say after scaring me half to death? 'Go away?' I thought I might never get you back and now that you are you're telling me to leave?" Good, Seto thought. He's angry with me. That'll make it easier for him once I'm gone.

"Look Mokuba: I have a lot on my plate right now. Can you try to understand that?" Mokuba furrowed his eyebrows and glared at his brother.

"Fine. I'll go. But I'd appreciate it if you stopped acting like I betrayed you, because I didn't." With that he stomped out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. Seto supposed he deserved that.

"You don't have to walk to class with me if it's out of your way," Ryou said as he packed himself a sandwich for lunch, Sewell sitting on the ground at his feet, angling for a piece of ham. Secretly he hoped that Alistair really would so that others might see that he actually had friends, or in this case, whatever it was that Alistair represented. A boyfriend? He wasn't sure.

"It's not. But I'd go even if it were just to have an excuse to leave the apartment if nothing else." Ryou smiled.

"Ok, then let's go."

After reaching the street and beginning the fifteen minute walk to the university, Alistair, acting out a sudden impulse that he had no doubt was brought on by a desire to differentiate this relationship from the one he'd had with Seto, twined his fingers through Ryou's.

Ryou was startled, but also pleased to know that Alistair had no qualms about being seen this way with him.

They received a few raised eyebrows and backwards glances, but many people, people rushing to work or some other engagement, mistook Ryou for a girl and therefore noticed nothing unusual about the couple.

When they reached the classroom that was home to Ryou's British Literature seminar, located in the bowels of Domino U's main building, outside of which several of the Brit's classmates were lounging, Alistair kissed him, almost as a dare for someone to say something. When no one did (though they had the attention of everyone in the vicinity), Alistair asked Ryou what kinds of snacks he should buy for when Yugi and the gang came over that evening.

"Joey and Tristan mentioned bringing beer and Téa will probably bring some kind of dessert. I'm not sure about Yugi, he didn't say…Just go ahead and get crisps or something like that."

"What are 'crisps?'"

"Oh, sorry. Chips."

"Ok, will do. I'll see you later then." He kissed him again and then left.

As soon as the redhead turned the corner, Ryou took the confidence that Alistair had breathed into him to ask the girl sitting on the floor next to the door (to whom he'd never spoken) what she'd thought of the books they would be discussing for the last day of class.

Alistair left the building feeling slightly unsettled. He was treading a thin line at the moment. He'd promised not to use Ryou, but he was. The Brit was a means of distraction and he knew it. He liked him, that wasn't untrue, but he was also having erotic dreams about Seto, indicating that, were he offered the choice, he wouldn't pick Ryou.

The optimum solution would therefore be to end things now while their friendship was still salvageable, but he didn't want to. He sensed that he could eventually fall in love with Ryou, that they could be happy together. But first he had to shut the door on his feelings for Seto forever. That meant that he couldn't call to ask about him or even think about him. Seto Kaiba had to be dead to him or else he'd never be able to move on.

As the sun began to set, Seto finally placed the letter he'd been working on all day aside and sat back in his chair. He watched as the sky slowly faded to black. Everything was ready now. He'd made sure that with him gone his fortune, assets, shares, and house would go to his brother with Roland acting as guardian until Mokuba's eighteenth birthday. He'd double-checked their finances and had described in his letter where copies of the passwords to all of his accounts could be found. The hardest part, the part that had taken him the better part of the day to write, had been explaining why in a way that didn't sound overly melodramatic. Finally he'd simply written:

When mom and dad died I told you that I'd take their place, but instead I'm just going to make you go through losing them all over again. I'm sorry that it has to be that way.

I know what you might think, but this isn't about him; I always choose my own destiny. This is a decision that I came to as the result of having reflected on my life. I hate looking backwards, but as it turns out I couldn't quite outrun my past and it caught up with me.

Some of the things that have brought me here were outside of my control, but some of them were the result of my own doing, and those I would not change because they allowed me in some way to make your life better.

Every once in a while you ask me why I don't smile like I did when we were kids, and the answer is that the part of me that played chess with you at the orphanage and laughed at the lame jokes that that guy who was in charge of the day room used to tell us no longer exists. I thought that maybe I'd found it again, but I was wrong.

I try to live my life without regrets, but I do regret not having spent more time with you. You always told me I worked too much, but I foolishly thought that the hours I pulled were for your benefit when really I should have stayed home more.

As it is, Kaiba Corp was my life's work, but it doesn't have to be yours if you don't want it to be; the reason I worked so hard was so that you would be free to do whatever you wanted. If you do decide to sell it, choose the buyer carefully, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't sell it to Schroeder Corp out of spite.

I swore that I'd always be there to protect you, but it seems I'm going to have to break that promise, not that I've always been able to keep it in the past either. If I'd been better at performing my duty you never would have gotten kidnapped.

You're still young, but you're already a far better person than I ever was; I hope that you continue to grow into the man that I never could be. I'm proud of you Mokie.

~Seto

It wasn't long-winded, nor was it horribly informative, but he didn't want to burden Mokuba with the pathetic details. Knowing his brother, Mokuba would think that it was his fault.

He wasn't foolish enough to think that Mokuba wouldn't be upset, but he wouldn't be leaving him all alone; Trudy would look after him, as would Roland. And Mokuba had friends, and a girlfriend; he'd be fine.

I'm so selfish, he thought. And weak. Ultimately he's better off without me to hold him back.

As he was holding the knife in his hand, Seto realized that the last thing he was going to see before he died was the sky which was strewn with stars. Time and tide wait for no man.

Author's Note: Before you flip shit and exit out because of this, know that this is not the end. Be patient and all will be revealed. Also: poor Seto. I truly believe that he'd behave this way under these circumstances, but because I love him to pieces, this was really hard to write.