Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Yu-gi-oh. I just read into it way too much...

Life Like Art

Seto Kaiba is a study in complexity. A portrait of such detail and intensity that it seems as intimidating as it is beautiful. As repulsive as it is compelling.

But he'd started off just like all of us. A blank canvas. Pure, brilliant white.

And indeed, the word 'brilliant' had described Seto Kaiba even before he was 'Seto Kaiba'. Had fitted him from birth, ever since he'd first opened his deep, blue baby eyes, shining with uncanny intelligence and newness.

A blank slate. Just like everyone else.

But then life started, got in the way. Took away his parents and stuck him in an orphanage.
Dirty shades of gray started to leak onto the white, seeping into all aspects of him.

Gray walls, gray floors, gray food...gray faces. It tainted you.

This didn't happen to Mokuba, though. He maintained his innocence; remained clean – Seto made sure of that. By then his brother was the only white left in his life and he had to protect it. Had to get him out of this purgatory.

And then one day he did.
Ambition, determination - they were qualities he'd always had. Seto was also resourceful. He was aware of his genius. Concocted a plan.

Gozaburo Kaiba never knew what hit him.

Good move or bad, they were both adopted. Enlisted in Kaiba Corp. And for Seto, enslaved.
Mental abuse spattered blackness across his soul. Swirling, curling...gaping. Layer upon twisting layer, year after year.

Even when finally – finally – the source was gone, the stain remained, spreading like an oil slick.
It was going to swallow him whole...
So much darkness...so much that Seto thought he'd go mad. Or maybe he already had.

Something had to fill it – work? power? - no. He needed...he needed something...

When suddenly...a splash of gold. Hard, in the center, causing some black to flake off...caused more to crack.
Gold millenium items and spiky hair that jarred his memory. A glowing, friendly smile, like the sun.

And close behind, another gold...subtler and all the more insidious.
A glistening lock of hair, warm amber eyes. Soft heart, hard strength; courage that blazed.

Warm, bright colours leaked slowly into the picture. Stark and shining on the black.

And before he knew it - without his permission - restorative work was under way.
Emptiness covered, cracks healed.
Dark undertones still present in all he did, but...they were a part of him by now – his past. No longer signifying lack, but depth...character.
He was textured now. Textured and coloured, so very complex and...strangely beautiful for it.

Not what you would call a pretty picture, though. There were still those areas that weren't blended properly; black spots left, some covered by just a thin layer...

No, he wasn't yet a work of art.

But as a certain painter would agree - with a smile and a kiss that covered just a little bit more - Seto Kaiba was still a work in progress.

Wish you could touch me with the colours of your life...