"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why... just why?" Her voice was as fragile as a perfume scent. It carried on the wind, on the artificial fresh air pumped through the ventilation ducts, constructed to reach every room of the luxurious, high-tech zeppelin, courtesy of Kaiba Corporation. Her words flittered through the room, lilting, reaching his ears as little tingling silver bells, ringing for his attention.
"I can't tell you why." His voice was low and clipped. His words weren't carried, as they were spoken with contempt and disdain, sinking immediately, failing to float on the wind. There was hardly any intonation when he spoke; every word was flat and toneless, and lacked every bit of compassion or care.
She knew he was right. He couldn't tell her why. He couldn't tell her anything- probably not even if she had failed or not. From the moment she saw him, she knew he wouldn't, couldn't, didn't want to tell her; his lips who had just kissed her mere seconds ago, were drawn into a tight line. The rustle of clothing was the only sound in the room, as sterile as a hospital ward- something she had come to hate.
It hurt. Why did it hurt so badly? She tried to lift her hand, but she couldn't. The cut under her breasts was deep, and the blood slowly trickled over her sides, staining the light blue sheets under her. She couldn't remember if he tied her hands down or that she was simply too tired. She turned her head, searching for him, vision a little blurred and unfocused.
He was standing on the other side of the room, his back turned to her, fastening his belt, hooking it through the loops. The carvings on his back were marred by angry, red welts, a small line of blood seeping into the deep lines of the flesh. It was only slightly satisfying that she was the one who caused him at least a little pain- though it was doubtful he saw it as pain. He'd cried out excitingly when she dug her nails into his back, retaliating immediately with the slash beneath her breasts, cutting through her skin with the same golden object he was now hooking through a belt loop.
The Sennen Rod. It immediately drew her eyes towards it, unable to look past the golden sphere with the vicious sharp wings on each side. She hadn't known about the dagger hidden inside the Item until it was too late.
"What... what about my brother?" She finally asked.
"What about him?"
"What... what you promised me." She swallowed painfully when he slowly turned around to face her. His bland, pupil-less eyes weren't in the least attractive, yet they mesmerized her. She could've drowned in them, if he'd just spoken the right words- he could've been her dream prince, but dream princes don't cut and hurt and break and rip their beautiful princesses apart. He was attractive, in the rawest sense of the word; nothing about him seemed sophisticated or refined. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he looked; it was with a stunning confidence that rivaled the Pharaoh's- the dark side that was part of Mutou Yuugi, King of Games- intensified by certain wildness all over him. He didn't care about morals, decency, love, care or simple politeness. His promise was worthless as soon as the words had left his mouth, whispered only to lure her.
She swallowed painfully again, spotting a crimson red flow over her breast. She couldn't make out if it was a strand of her long hair, which he had carefully stroked and caressed and arranged to fall over her shoulders, or another small stream of blood. It was hard to remember if he'd cut her there too... she had lost count of the times he stabbed her.
"I promised you... that I wouldn't kill your brother." FstHe showed her a small smile, as far as it could be a smile. His lips curled a little, the movement hardly visible. Another rustle of clothing, and he pulled on his shirt, the dark gray cloth covering his tan skin, covering up a few faint scratches on his chest. She'd hardly had the chance to scratch him there, even though it all was futile- the pain she gave him fueled him, instead of stop him.
Heaving a sigh, she found she couldn't move her head again. She wanted to look at the ceiling, not at him anymore, but she remained lying, not moving. He was closing the distance between them, walking towards the bed, seating himself on the covers. Bringing up a hand, he brushed a few strands out of face. "Pretty," he simply said.
"What is it you want from me?" Her voice was becoming a little ragged. It felt like something was stuck in her throat. She wanted to get some rest... but her brother- she had to see him duel. See him defeating this... monster. He promised her that he wouldn't kill her brother, after all... for what his word was worth. She had to keep faith, had to believe, if only for her brother. He wouldn't end up trapped in the Shadow Realm, not like Mai. A shiver traveled down her spine, and it was not of his fingers stroking her cheek while he was brushing the strands of hair.
"I want everything," he answered her.
"I gave you everything," she bit back at him, followed by a weak cough. His fingers left her cheek, tracing the outline of her face, trailing over her throat. "Wasn't it enough?"
He snorted, and the sheer disdain made her want to cry- tears were already forming in the corners of her eyes, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. He didn't break her. He hadn't broken her. If anything, she was as headstrong as her brother- she simply wouldn't give in. Not to him. A soft moan escaped her when his fingers traveled lower, touching her cold skin. It didn't surprise her that he didn't give her an answer. He tilted his head, large earrings following his movements, and looked at her again, smile becoming a little wider.
It dawned on her that he was smearing blood over her body. She could hear it; his fingers drawing with the liquid the only sound in the room beside both their breathing- his calm, hers labored. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but it was obvious. Half-heartedly, she tried to lift her arms again, but she just couldn't. Too much pain. F"You took...and you didn't give in return."
He was amused, the bastard. His grin became even wider, in combination with the look in his eyes, deranged. His slender fingers dipped in the blood and drew, circles and loops and pattern on her body, her breasts, rubbing over her nipples. Again a soft moan escaped her, a small whimper slipping past her lips.
"You liked it, didn't you?" He continued drawing, touching her, admiring her. Swallowing became difficult and she coughed again. He'd almost strangled her when he'd pushed her onto the bed, his grip far more forceful than she imagined. He'd been forceful with everything, so unlike when he simply talked to her, before... before everything happened. Only the Battle Royale was left to determine who would face who, which opponent would be on the other side of the duel arena. She knew how much her brother loathed him, despised him, and wanted revenge on him- she also knew how he, due to his impatience and his strong emotions, would make mistakes.
She nodded, because she wasn't a liar. She had liked it, to a certain extent. Even when the pain started... she had expected nothing but pain, but in the beginning it had felt good. Everything had felt good; his fingers stroking over her skin, his words whispered in her ear. His promise, his kisses, his caresses.
"I..." Her body was betraying her, despite the pain. She couldn't take more, couldn't take it anymore. What was left, was taken and destroyed- she would never be the same again, and what she'd thought to save for a special occasion, a special night filled with candles and roses and romance, was lost in a cold, breezy, sterile room on a zeppelin, miles high in the sky. "Wasn't it enough?"
If only her brother would be safe... then it would suffice. She licked her lips, giving up on her attempts to swallow. Her breathing sounded shallow, yet labored to her ears. Her vision was still blurred, as if the surgery she'd went through hadn't been effective at all. Her legs... they felt like lead, just as unmoving as her arms. She was naked, clad in blood, decorated all over her body, while he was traipsing through the liquid with his fingers, his eyes unfocused. She tried, God, didn't she try hard enough? Was this some kind of... punishment? For what... for trying to save her brother?
He leaned over her, spiked platinum blond hair spilling over his shoulders. So like the other, but yet so different. Dark sides, light sides. Two halves of one soul, or not? Not only her vision was blurred, her mind became blurred. She gasped, as his lips closed around her nipple, licking over the tender flesh, lapping the blood from her skin. "N-no..." It was barely a whisper, but she knew he heard her. Her body couldn't take it, the pain had already numbed her limbs, and she had given already what he wanted... for a promise, for her brother. Pain and pleasure, so close, but the pain had overtaken the pleasure.
Turning his head, his tongue licked over her icy skin, and suddenly he stopped, fingers sliding off her body, interest fading away.
He suddenly stood up, the sudden shift in weight on the mattress shaking her body and she whimpered again. Numb, empty, and yet full of pain. She wanted to ask him where he was going, but she saw him picking up his duel disk from the table, snapping the appliance on his right arm. He couldn't possibly leave her here. Naked and cold on the bed, used and not-broken, but no longer complete. Her hair was matted with dried blood, her body hurt all over and it was freezing in here. When he turned around to pick up the dark purple cape from the chair, the Sennen Rod flashed before her eyes again; the tips of the wings clearly displaying caked blood as well. He had used it on her, as much as he was in love with the object; he had granted her the pleasure and the pain of the Item. She'd been the first to feel it, the excruciating pain, the razor sharp blade, the wings that hooked into her sensitive flesh. He'd been so excited seeing all the blood, seeing the liquid well up from the cuts, his hands grabbing and pawing and stroking and fondling and...
"Wasn't it?"
Something tingled, a faint sound, almost smothered. It was the small chain of his cape, the heavy cloth surrounding him, covering up the Sennen Rod. She didn't bother blinking with her eyes. She only wanted to know the answer to her question. Her brother was safe, he wouldn't be hurt... she had given everything for him, had given up everything for him, as long as he was safe. The darkness could've been a prince, a prince Charming, a prince of Egypt, stealing kisses and stealing innocence, ending hope, faith and belief- this darkness was nothing but darkness, and what good were his words? An empty promise, or something she could hold onto?
"It wasn't enough," he finally said, and finished dressing. His hand moved over his deck, caressing the cards. The powerful God rested in one of these paper objects, ready to be awoken and do his destructive work. If only her brother would escape that fate, if only she had accomplished that, then everything would be all right. The others... her friends... would take care of the rest. Darkness could take pride in being the darkness as much as he wanted- in the end, light would prevail. Hope... she'd had hope when she went for the surgery, and everything worked out fine. Now she only had to hope for her brother, and yes, she had plenty of hope for him. She closed her eyes, his words falling on her ears. Her throat felt raspy, as if sandpaper was stuck down in it.
She wanted to ask him why, but she knew that she couldn't ask more questions. He was about to leave anyway, his mind already focused on the upcoming duel, not on her. Used and thrown away in just... how long had it been? Fifteen, twenty minutes? No, longer... though it hadn't taken him much time to agree on what she'd proposed. She'd seen no other way but to offer herself, and he was greedy enough to take it- she didn't have a God card, or any duel cards for that matter, and money or power weren't any of his goals. Only death and destruction, darkness and demolition of the body and the mind. He'd be safe, her brother... she was sure of it. He didn't look at her, turning around to leave. She opened her mouth, chafed lips forming the words with the last of her strength.
"Kill me." Her last offer. Her last remedy. Her life for the one of her brother- a trade, a bribe. There wasn't anything else she could offer, and this was something he probably couldn't resist; he'd already taken her, already maimed her, and already scarred her... if he finished the job, his thirst would be satisfied, and her brother would be safe- for now, for ever. Finally he locked his eyes on her; she knew it, though she didn't see it. She just felt it. In those few minutes they've been together, his movements, his behavior; it was etched into her soul. No prince charming, but the devil instead- and if she wasn't going to survive this, she wouldn't want to take these memories with her, even though there was no escaping of them.
No answer came, but neither was the final stab dealt. The door went open and closed itself, leaving nothing but silence in the room. Tears started to fall, finally- she could let them go free, now that he was gone. It was so cold, and her chest was heaving, her lungs overexerting to draw at least some breath. Her nipples were hard, and another shiver ran through her body, but she couldn't place it- was it from the cold, or was it from her longing to his warm touch? He had touched her, he had caressed her, he had been warm and cruel and hard and demanding and hitting and thrusting... another shiver forcefully ran through her body, and she coughed again.
She would never know the answer; never know why he left her to die. She would die here, and people would cry and lament and ask what had happened to her. Her brother... after he survived, he would be pissed and mad at her, thinking that she once again had went into something head over heels, and he was right. She'd done it for him, just as he would do it for her, no doubt about that. The tears mingled with the blood on her face, leaving grotesque traces on her face, diluted blood running down her cheeks.
He wouldn't kill her. He would leave it up to her to kill herself. She'd been dead the moment she grabbed his cape, touched his arm, and asked him in her shy voice if she could talk to him, if he agreed to spare her brother if she gave him her body.