What Doesn't Kill You...

by WSJ

WSJ: O_o;;

Ryou: ;>> What's her problem?

Otogi: ^^; She's doing it again.

Ryou: Doing what again?

Otogi: Writing another Kaiba-centered story.

Ryou: Oo; But she doesn't like him.

Otogi: I know. *shrug* Beats the pants off me.

WSJ: *snaps out of it* Yes please!

Ryou & Otogi: v_v;; Fangirls...

WSJ: ^^; I don't own YGO. The snipets of song belong to Matchbox20's Unwell, followed by Disease, Hello, and Everybody's Fool, all three by Evanescence.


Quote of the fic:

"You know, a lot of little kids act like they're drunk a lot of the time. v_v; And a lot of them ride my bus."
~(Me, trying not to strangle the stupid brat who sits behind me on the school bus)

Insanity... What a difficult word. Hard to define. Or rather, hard to define just who it is who's insane. Some would say that Yami no Bakura and Yami no Malik are insane, and yet to some, such as each other, they seem perfectly normal. Some would call Yami no Yuugi insane. And still others...

There are some who would call me insane.

But really, what is insanity? Being just a little bit different then everyone else? Running naked down the street shouting about rubber duckies and lemon pies? Your ideal Christmas present being a little white coat with sleeves that tie in the back? Is that really insanity?

Or is insanity something deeper, something on the inside. Running naked down the street may be just a sign of madness. No, I believe insanity is something on the inside, something that eats away at your heart, not your mind. Insanity is killing quietly, in cold blood. Insanity is the self-inflicted scars running up and down your arms. Insanity is sitting in a dark room and silently screaming to anyone who cares to answer.

Insanity isn't white starched straight jackets and padded walls. Insanity is iron chains and darkness.

Believe me, I should know.

I'm not crazy,
I'm just a little unwell.
I know right now you can't tell,
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me.

You've all heard the story, how one chess match changed my life. You all know how my brother and I came to be Kaibas. You all know how it was that our stepfather died. You all know.

I killed him.

You know he beat me, tried to twist me into himself. You've all heard the rumors, the stories, the legends, almost.

Have you heard the truth?

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." That was Gozenboru's life's philosophy. If it hurt, then that was good. It made you less weak, less likely to make a mistake, to fail. The pain started to feel good to you.

That is what he taught me. Over all the years, through all the lessons, on management and business in between the beatings, that is what Gozenboru Kaiba taught me. Pain hurts, but only for a minute. And then you're free to inflict more pain. And more. You can turn your greatest weakness into your greatest strength, if you learn to control what your body feels and what your mind thinks it feels.

But I was smarter then him. Whereas he used a knife, I learned of something much more pleasurable.


Rain on me, I got a weakness in me.
I think that weakness feeds me,
I don't think you think you need me!

Have you ever been scalded in the shower? Or maybe poured boiling water on your hand accidentally? It hurts! Oh how it hurts...

But it doesn't leave a mark.

No matter how much it burns, it never leaves a mark.

That's what I learned. If it left a mark, it was bad. Someone might find out what you were doing. But water never, ever leaves a mark or a scar to be found. It's so perfect. And so wonderful. The pain can be endured until you're almost drunk with it, intoxicated with the overwhelming need for more...

No one ever thought of that, did they? You see all the commercials on TV, save sex, don't smoke, don't drink and drive... All good advice, obviously. But no one ever mentions that pain can be just as addicting as any drug ever grown. Once you find out that you can use pain as a strength, that you can drink it up like a sponge and feel empowered... There's no turning back.

Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide...
Don't cry...

Mokuba knows. He knows what I do to myself every morning before getting dressed and heading to the office. I've ordered the servents away from my rooms at those hours of the morning and night, but how do you keep away a brother? No, he's heard my screams of pleasure and pain, seen me immerge from the bathrobe flushed and red, but seemingly happy.

"Why do you do this niisama?" he asks.

"Because I must." I always answer.

"But why?"

Without the mask
Where will you hide?
Can't find yourself,
Lost in your lies

"Because it's a sort of an addiction Mokuba, I couldn't stop if I wanted to."

He frowns and runs his fingers over the skin of my arm, unmarked but red and still hot to the touch. "I thought you told me all addictions are bad?"

"They are Mokuba. They always are..."



To those who suffer from the addiction of pain, be it water or blade.

God bless minna-san