pyrefly_sky (pyrefly_sky) wrote,

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More Kaiba Fandom

Okay, I've had two attempts at fanfics for my Auron challange, and my Beta and I have decided... well... they're crap. I honestly can't write Rikku, and I honestly have trouble writing stuff without angsty bits.
I was seriously thinking of looking for a new muse, this one was being useless, but then to remind me why he's so important he threw this dark and twisted emotional spew into my mind. I'll forgive him, this once.

Title: Black Rainbow
Beta: Scoz
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Rating: C - Caution angsty depression ahead.
Characters: Kaiba brothers.
Word Count: 434
Disclaimer: Not mine... but I can still mess with their heads!
Notes: Okay, this is set after the very first episode, when Yugi has beaten Kaiba and he's lost his mind. It explores alot of emotions that I experienced myself when I was depressed. My beta was freaked after he'd read this, so be warned.

-Also if anyone has an idea for a better title... I'd love to hear it!

Seto Kaiba has problems.
He has more problems than most people care to know about. He’s tired, stressed and constantly depressed. He wakes in the morning doubting, wanting more than anything the black abyss of sleep. He can’t feel himself anymore; he’s numb, emotionally unresponsive, the very air around him shivers.
His luxury is beautiful, but he can only view his world in hues of grey, and black. He finds that everything important is black, like his brother’s hair, like that kids leather… soulless black. Love and hate, both fading to one hue when once there was light. He can find no light here; not even in his brothers pleading violet eyes, which, when he tries, he cannot define from the darkness.
Nothing matters anymore, his pleasures have washed out, his breathing echoes the empty confines of his room and he wonders briefly if this is how it feels to be dead, truly dead.
He’s thought about that often, during the fall from his pedestal. His mind finding perverse pleasure in limiting his thoughts to those of pain and anguish. Repeating past horrors in both awaking and sleeping hours, pulling apart the very fabric of his insides.
He doesn’t cry, he’s too devoid for tears. He doesn’t complain, he doesn’t do anything anymore. He takes no joy in cards when Mokuba forces him to play. His brother tries hard, but each time, the Blue Eyes White Dragon is placed coldly by an unfeeling hand, as another set of blue eyes stare blankly and speak its name as if it were unrecognized poison. Poison without venom; his words eerily flat and empty.
He stalks the corridors alone late at night unable to find sleep; Mokuba worries. His brother no longer checks on him, no longer stops at his door. He no longer stops wandering; he has no destination in mind.
Mokuba finds the tears his brother has lost, secretly he mourns the loss of a soul he loves.
This is the only thing Seto notices; the only stir of emotion he can muster through the thick veil cloaking him. He can’t understand his brother’s tears, and Mokuba clings to him and sobs, screaming at Seto to hold him, to become his brother again.
Seto realizes that he must leave, for Mokuba, for himself. He needs time, space and isolation to fix things.
He notifies his brother, and Mokuba smiles at hearing his Setos’ voice for the first time in weeks. He understands that Seto must go and holds onto faith that his brother will return from whatever dark place he is headed to.

And Seto left.


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