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“He is certainly odd, and he seemed competent enough, at least at first.” Kaiba looked down at his brother, who was now walking again at his side, and wondered how much to say. That Shadi believed in bullshit such as vampires. That Shadi claimed to have a family who would kill him without a second thought. How about that Shadi had managed to commandeer his holographic system for his own uses, something that suggested power of some form whether social or technological. Or better yet, that Shadi had blatantly told him he was planning to interfere with a police investigation. Even after that there were a million other details making the man suspicious. In the end, Kaiba decided on the simplest and most direct answer. “He implied he knew who did this when we talked alone, but other detectives I talked to didn’t have a clue. We can’t rely on any of them.”

“Huh...” Mokuba considered this for a bit, his face scrunching up in confusion, before realization and anger dawned. “Wait! Shadi was the one who said you were probably dead. He said it with such certainty and sincerity. Like he didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news but he thought I deserved to know. And, you’re saying he didn’t think I deserved to know who hurt you, or that he was lying and knew you were alive?” Mokuba let out an exasperated sigh. “Why are adults- no, why are people like this?”

Kaiba immediately responded, “Because people are horrible.” They had already now entered the over-sized dining room, making their way to the kitchen behind.

“I mean I knew that,” Mokuba chuckled, “I didn’t even really believe him anyway. Just didn’t realize I had gotten my hopes up that somebody actually gave a shit.”

Kaiba considered his brother’s words. He didn’t want to defend Shadi at all, since the man was incredibly suspicious. But, there was a chance that they would have to talk with him again, either in dealing with the conclusion of his missing person’s case or while Shadi tried to get the murder under wraps, and one should always correctly identify the threat a potential enemy posed.

So, he clarified as they entered the kitchen, “Shadi is dangerous- don’t mistake that- but he did believe I had died. It seems he lies more through omission than direct statement, which means people are less likely to notice when he does. He knows how to be discrete, so the other detectives just think he’s weird without guessing the full amount of bullshit swimming in his brain. I’m just one of the unlucky bastards he tried to indoctrinate the moment he got me alone. Fortunately, I wasn’t so easily convinced. Unfortunately, same could not be said of the doctor who examined me, who should have known better. If he ever approaches you turn him away and don’t listen. He has a way of including just enough truth to make his ridiculous words worm their way into your skull.” He finished with a grimace remembering the incident in the bedroom. The words had gotten far deeper into Kaiba’s brain than he had hoped. He already regretted listening to Shadi for as long as he did, though he supposed it was useful to know that there were a bunch of occult nuts ready to kill him.

Mokuba shook his head, “As if I’d let him through the door after pulling that.”

“Good.” Kaiba opened the refrigerator. “Do you want whipped cream with it? Fruit? Cookies?” He didn’t know how to cook and had barely touched a stove in his life, deciding to leave most of that work to the mansion’s staff, but he would have been damned if he didn’t know how to put together his brother’s favorite treat, especially since it was so simple.

Mokuba took a moment to answer, and when Kaiba turned to look at his brother, an impish grin had spread across Mokuba’s face. “The works. And, you are going to have some too, right?”

Kaiba shrugged as he pulled the milk and butter from the fridge before in another trip getting a handful of berries and the cream. “Not hungry.” He then out of habit set some coffee to brew while he got the rest of the ingredients ready.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that? ‘Cause most of the time, you’re just saying that. Plus, even if you actually for real weren’t hungry, that wouldn’t prevent you from having a treat.”

Mokuba wasn’t lying. There had been plenty of times when he had brushed off Isono’s and Mokuba’s prodding only for them to discover later that he hadn’t eaten in the past day. It wasn’t that he was trying to starve himself, but food was simply a necessity that wasn’t even near the top of the long list of necessities in his life. Plus, after years of having to complete assignments on an empty stomach, ignoring his body’s cries for food had become habit even when now that the threat was gone. It made the sense of starvation that had crawled to the front of his mind in the dumpster and had shaken him to the core all the more disconcerting.

“I did eat… something earlier. Haven’t felt this full in a while.”

“You hesitated.”

Kaiba glanced back at Mokuba and snorted rather than give a proper response. He didn’t want to acknowledge that he didn’t know what he had eaten. Nor did he want to admit to his brother that even as he was preparing the parfait it sounded completely unappealing.

Fortunately, Mokuba didn’t press further and changed the topic of conversation. “So… what leads do you have? What will the vice president be doing for Kaiba Corporation today?”

“I’ll be sifting through public and private online records to see if I can find a trace of my attacker. He looked around my age and did seem to have a connection to Yugi, so I’ll check schools records in the area first. That connection does give an opportunity to help the investigation.” Kaiba started measuring the ingredients for the pudding portion. “My attacker seemed to fancy himself a guardian angel of sort; he knew that I had won the white dragon necklace from Yugi’s grandfather and thought to get it back while passing a bit of extra judgment on the way. My techniques were a bit unusual, but...”

And, he supposed looking back a bit heavy handed.

He hadn’t forced the old man to play the chess game against him, and the old man had been confident enough he was going to teach Kaiba a lesson that he had almost done so willingly, but being escorted to the facility by Kaiba’s security detail hadn’t given the old man much of a choice either. Furthermore, while there was no point in doing things without at least a little bit of flare, he had also known going in that holograms could cause psychosomatic problems, especially for those with preexisting health problems. If your senses believed you were under attack, it sometimes didn’t matter whether you actually were or not; your body reacted. Kaiba hadn’t known that Sugoroku would be sent to the hospital, but knowing the older man’s age and the hyper-realistic setting he had used, he hadn’t been entirely surprised either.

That isn’t to say he wouldn’t have pressed Sugoroku Mutou in order to get the necklace. The necklaces in the set were beautiful sure and he had a fondness for the fierce beasts depicted, but he also had known from the moment he had first laid eyes on one that they were important.

Seven years ago, back at the orphanage, one of the necklaces had rested on Gozaburo’s fingers as he chided Kisara for talking to Seto. At that point Seto had little idea who this man was other than he was very powerful and visiting the orphanage for the good press. The second fact had meant little to him, but the first had already caught his attention.

While Gozaburo was talking with the orphanage’s director, Kisara had caught Seto trailing behind and had stepped back to warn him in a whisper that despite the visit Gozaburo was not interested in interacting with the children outside of scheduled photo shoots. Seto had replied that that was expected; he was just here to observe. The answer had amused Kisara, and she had asked some more questions, while keeping her eyes on Gozaburo and occasionally scanning the area.

And, who may I ask is observing Gozaburo Kaiba?

Seto. The staff might tell you a different name or say that I am not a boy, but they think a piece of paper says who you are. It doesn’t.

That’s an interesting name, Seto. Not exactly common. Where did you find it?

Came to me. Sounds more like me than the other name. And, point is I chose it. It’s mine. It doesn’t mean much, but it’s something they can’t take. Who are you and why do you care anyways?

My name is Kisara. It is my job to protect Kaiba. The name reminded me of something, but you are right names and paper don’t mean much. Decisions and people do. And, I would like to know about the boy who decided to observe my boss.

Last names can matter.

Seto, do you honestly think Kaiba would adopt?

He doesn’t look like he’d be easy to convince. I’d have to do my research first.

I doubt Kaiba would be the nicest of parents.

I am not looking for a nice parent. There are plenty of supposedly nice parents who just want a smart kid to brag about, but don’t care about that kid’s younger brother or say they can’t afford him. There are plenty of nice parents who stop even caring about the older brother because they think a piece of paper says who you are. Unfortunately, paper matters because people believe in it. Otherwise it's just paper.

Then, why care about Kaiba?

Because people believe in money.

Seto usually would have been annoyed by such idle chatter and by revealing so much, but she was also using his actual name and taking his words seriously. Perhaps as Mokuba had mentioned with Shadi, he hadn’t even realized his hopes had risen.

However, even if Seto had not been annoyed, Gozaburo had been furious after he finished his conversation with the director and turned to find Kisara making chatter with an orphan,  had taken the necklace out of his pocket while commanding Kisara to do her job. The necklace and the small dragon pendant at its end had immediately caught his attention, but more so had Kisara’s reaction. Kisara’s voice was firm when she reminded Gozaburo that she was able both talk and keep an eye on his safety and that this boy was certainly not a threat to it; she was certainly not weak. But, she had also flinched as his fingers had tightened around the pearls.

Seto had realized then that the necklaces had power, power that Gozaburo did not deserve. Kaiba realized- or was it remembered since it seemed like the thought had been with him the whole time, just unable to come to the surface- that though he had been the one collecting the necklaces, Kisara had the real claim.

So no, he would have made sure to get the necklace one way or another. But he could have worn the man down before making his move to make him more pliable; he could have adjusted the realism settings on the hologram so only necklaces rather than lives were at stake. Instead, his impatience at the man’s sentimentality had made his blood burn and had gotten the better of him.

He hadn’t realized his mind had drifted until Mokuba chimed in a tone Kaiba couldn’t quite catch, “You do always do things your own way.”

“True. But, the point is that Yugi is bully bait. I doubt I was the first to cause Yugi grief nor receive my attacker’s wrath. There likely have been other incidents, particularly involving other students. See if there are any suspicious reports surrounding Yugi or the high school more generally. We don’t even need a direct trace to Yugi yet, since that could have just not gotten reported. Just notify me if you find anything interesting, especially if you find a pattern.”

“Okay,” Mokuba nodded. “Look up reports around the school to see if there has been any other weird shit going on. Got it.” He started out the kitchen door before returning a couple moments later. “Going to get my laptop and head to the living room. Want me to bring yours down?”

“That would be helpful,” Kaiba replied, getting back to making the parfait and considering how he would accomplish his own task.

The first point of order would be to slip into the school’s network check through registration lists especially if the school kept the ID photos on hand to compare against his memory. A direct identification would be easiest. If that didn’t pan out, he could always check the surrounding schools as well. A frown started to crease Kaiba’s features. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. Kaiba may not have paid too much attention to social life at school, but he swore he would have noticed if there was a confident dark-skinned Yugi with even wilder hair running around Domino High. The boy had certainly looked… distinctive. Even if the boy went to another school, wouldn’t he have turned up in the police investigation?

Unless, of course, he did and for whatever unfortunate reason Shadi had decided not to include that in the file Detectives Wasseem and Ito had read.

While he was poking around the school files, he might as well see if Yugi, or for that manner any of the gaggle that had started following him, were mentioned in any disciplinary reports, especially as a victim. It would give Mokuba more to work with, since even Kaiba had to admit that ‘anything suspicious that happened to anybody at the school or in contact with Yugi’ was a bit broad, and barring outright identification, getting even just one other instance would help significantly, give them more leads and threads to pull on.

It wasn’t long before the pudding had cooked and the cream was whipped. Kaiba retrieved a large glass and layered the pudding, whipped cream, and other snacks inside, then put the pots in the sink and poured himself a mug of the now finished coffee. He breathed in and noted that it didn’t exactly smell appetizing, though he couldn’t put a finger on why. Then again, even if he wasn’t tired yet, it wasn’t like he drank the stuff just for the taste, and he probably would need it later anyway. As much as he had tried to convince Mokuba that him being awake was reasonable, he had no idea how long his current alertness would last.

Plus, coffee had never failed him before, and if he was going to drink it, he might as well drink it while it was still warm. He put the mug to his lips and took a gulp.

Or at least he tried to.

His mouth immediately reacted, spraying the dark brown liquid onto the counter and wall in front of him. Bad. Horrible. The taste wasn’t remarkably different from usual, though it lacked a certain sharpness or punch to the flavor. Yet, for some reason his mouth failed to recognize it as edible. He could have taken a shot of pure cooking oil or even gasoline for a similar effect, and as what little liquid remained started to each the back of his mouth, his gag reflex activated.

Kaiba’s body reacted so viscerally to the coffee that he forgot what he was doing, forgot to think. His whole body tensed, and he flailed for a moment. The mug accidentally slammed onto the countertop. The ceramic shattered and the rest of the coffee spilled onto the floor.

Kaiba stared at the mess for a moment, before his mouth’s protests convinced him to move. Dashing to the sink, he turned the nearest handle to the faucet and ran the water through his mouth, occasionally spitting to get as much of the taste out of his mouth as possible. The cold cleansing water bubbled around his teeth and swirled over his tongue. After a few seconds, the terrible taste seemed to finally disappear. he turned the faucet off and stared blankly at the sink.

It shouldn’t have tasted that bad; he’d forced plenty of disgusting food down his throat with barely a complaint at Gozaburo’s dinner table. Plus, his first cup hadn’t even tasted that bad. It didn’t make sense. He continued to stare at the sink.

Perhaps it had been simply a bad batch of beans.

Kaiba grabbed several wads of paper towels and cleaned up the mess, annoyed that this had to happen when the cleaning staff had already gone home, and then grabbed the parfait to head into the living room across the manor. There, Mokuba was perched on the couch, shoes on the fabric and legs contorted to hold his laptop. Kaiba considered reminding him to put his feet on the floor, but Mokuba looked comfortable. And, if Mokuba was comfortable, he would be able to focus easier as well.

His own laptop was on the coffee table, neatly set in front of the spot next to Mokuba and already plugged into the wall. Mokuba’s power cord was nowhere to be seen.

Kaiba set the parfait down on the table, sliding onto the seat next to Mokuba and tapping Mokuba’s shoulder to get his attention. Mokuba blinked and looked over, a smile spreading from ear to ear as his eyes landed on the heaps of pudding and cream. “Thank you so much!” He snatched the treat off the table and shoveled several scoops down his throat before looking at the table in front of Kaiba. “You already finished your coffee?”

“Swallow before speaking, and I threw it out. Something was off with the taste.”

Mokuba stared at him a moment before laughing. “Maybe four days cold turkey was what you needed. You do need to rest anyway.” He paused for a moment. “I mean I’d trade it in a heartbeat for you safe, but silver linings and all.”

Kaiba grimaced. Perhaps, though that shouldn’t have changed the taste. Regardless, if he got tired before work was through, he would brew another pot, rest be damned.

Still, he would rather bet on the fantasy that even in this state- recovering from shock with an already screwy brain addled further by other’s delusions- he could make it through the night unaided than pray that the next batch turns out better.  Kaiba pushed his limits and routinely ignored them, but he still knew they existed, however inconvenient that might be. Though if Mokuba was right and he had lost his coffee reliance, then at least he wouldn’t be dealing with withdraw symptoms which increased his chances significantly. Silver linings and all.

Seto Kaiba needed to lull Gozaburo into thinking he knew what was going on, to believe he had the upper hand and needed to do nothing. Gozaburo needed to believe he had an in. Seto needed to trust the person in question. Since Mokuba’s gifted shares would push Gozaburo over the fifty percent mark, making him feel invincible, Seto knew it would be a shrewd move.

The problem was this would all be for nothing if Gozaburo was not convinced, and unfortunately, Gozaburo was no fool.

So, if it were just him on the line, Seto Kaiba would have tried to find another way. The problem was that the game was already set, and his brother was already on the board. While Gozaburo had throughout the years focused most of his wrath on Seto, he hadn’t been afraid to take his anger out on Mokuba. Especially since it would hurt Seto in the process. Especially if he managed to involve Seto in the punishment itself. Seto had over the years gotten better at attracting the brunt of Gozaburo’s rage. But, Gozaburo was himself like the bombs he sold, even if a bit smarter: when he went off, everything was a potential target without hope for containment, all you could hope to do was take the collateral yourself.

Seto Kaiba remembered nights where Mokuba had been denied dinner as well. In those times he always made sure Mokuba would be the first to eat come morning. He remembered when Gozaburo had wanted to remind him of the weapons his ideas had been folded into, Gozaburo had forced Mokuba- who hadn’t perfected his own steely resolve- to watch the grisly videos and reports of the weapons’ aftermaths. Perhaps Gozaburo had been trying to turn his brother against him, but his brother miraculously remained. He remembered when Gozaburo had found a stash of games that Mokuba had made and kept hidden in his room, and Gozaburo had decided that the best course of action was to gather the games on the driveway and give Seto a choice: force Mokuba to receive a worse punishment for his disobedience or light the match himself. Neither option had been good, but the choice had been obvious.

If he lost this round, years of threats to send both of them, not just Seto but Mokuba too, back the orphanage might finally come to head, and Seto hadn’t hesitated to wonder if those threats were only the tip of the iceberg. As such, he would be glad to give up Mokuba so that his brother wouldn’t be dragged down with him in case of a loss, and he trusted that his brother would return to him if he somehow made it through.

If they somehow made it through… the thought of freedom had seemed so far away at the time.

Seto Kaiba did not regret his choice when he discretely slipped a few pieces of information to Gozaburo, not enough to threaten his plans but enough that Gozaburo could start to see something happening. And, certainly not as much as Mokuba knew, so that if Gozaburo saw through that part of the ruse, the titan would still keep his brother on hand. Seto Kaiba did not regret staging the fight where he accused his brother of the act in front of the Big Five and a member of the cleaning staff, who would inevitably pass the information on. If it saved Mokuba from Gozaburo’s heavier hand, he did not regret pushing his brother to the floor.

But, you can hate something without regretting it.

Seto Kaiba kept up appearances during the scene but quickly dismissed himself afterwards to hide in a bathroom and argue with a ghost who rattled on about broken promises and how he failed as a brother, as the father he promised his brother he would be. He tried to tell himself that he would fail even harder if he didn’t do this. That he was trying to save his brother from something worse. But, he wouldn’t listen, and he saw himself melt into a puddle on the bathroom floor.

However, that time Kaiba had at least known what his hallucination wanted from him. Now he had absolutely no idea what it was going on about. How could he possibly do what? He stared blankly at the fuming young Seto in front of him. With his mind still reeling, he held onto Mokuba for support.

Mokuba shifted in Kaiba's arms then looked up. “Bro, are you alright?”

Kaiba glanced down at his brother then back at the young version of himself, who chose that moment to rush across Mokuba’s bed screaming, “You were going to kill him!” Kaiba felt the words like a sucker punch to the gut, but he didn’t have the energy to think or respond beyond a repeated muttering of ‘no’. Suddenly he felt traces of ghostly fingers across his skin as young Seto grasped and pulled at Kaiba’s arms.

However, it was Mokuba himself that ultimately detached himself from him, with glances between Kaiba and what he knew- despite his senses- was just air in front of him. Still his brother did not leave his side, and in fact his brother moved to hold onto his arm. Mokuba’s voice shook slightly but was otherwise strong. “Brother, if you are seeing anything there, I can’t see it.”

Kaiba was going to respond, but young Seto would not let up. He pounded his ghostly small fists against Kaiba’s chest and screamed so hard he was crying. “They were right. They were all right. You killed the garbage collectors, and you were going to kill Mokuba too. Eat him like he was a treat. Disgusting!”

Thousands of tiny cuts spread across Kaiba’s hand, while splotches of dark discolored blood began to appear on his sleeve. His head reeled. He rocked slightly, before pressing his eyes shut and placing his head in his hands in an attempt to block out the hallucination. It continued its hollering and he could still feel the light beat of its hands against him. The tactile portion of the hallucination wasn’t as vivid as the rest, but it was still enough to catch his attention and throw him for a loop. “I know it's not there. I know. But, the little asshole won’t shut up.”

“Little asshole…? what are you seeing?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Kaiba screamed, glad that all of the help staff went home from the night and the estate’s size meant that the nearest neighbors wouldn’t hear.

Mokuba didn’t answer for a moment. The young Seto’s screams filled the gap. “Monster! No, worse than a monster. You’re an animal. A dog. Can’t even control yourself.”

However, Mokuba did eventually respond, “It looks like it matters to you.”

It was a statement, a pure simple fact. Kaiba was curled tight into a ball, head in his hands, screaming because of something that wasn’t even there. He pulled his fingers apart looked at his brother through a glare. He hated it. He was supposed to be in control, and however much nonsense his hallucination was spouting, it was right that he wasn’t in control. Not anymore. Worse, the fact that his hallucination- this thing cloaked in his own image and produced by his own brain to taunt him- was spouting this nonsense probably meant that Shadi’s and Dr. Uramoto’s accusations were starting to get to him. Either way he was losing his grip on reality.

Mokuba took a step back, as if the glare was supposed to be directed at him.

Young Seto took this moment to holler, “You’re making everything worse!”

Mokuba, however, did not back up any further and in fact in fact he nodded as if he just figured something out and stepped forward again. “I know you’d rather I not see this, that you’d rather be able to deal with this on your own… I know you often try to hide it or go away when this happens. I mean you don’t deny it, but…”

Mokuba was right. Kaiba wouldn’t pretend- at least to Mokuba- that his brain was okay. While he wanted to protect Mokuba from the slime and grime of the world, any form of protection that hid that from his brother was no form of protection at all. He could even live with the fact that sometimes the slime and grime was him because usually he was doing what he had to ensure their survival, their future in this world. But, not knowing whether what he was seeing was real and not being able to focus on reality even when the distinction was staring him in the face? That didn’t guarantee Mokuba’s safety. It made Kaiba a liability.

Sure, Kaiba managed well enough that most people knew nothing or only suspected him of the odd quirk.  He managed, and considering he ran a gargantuan company, one could say he managed well. Yet, he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. The hallucinations could push him into a fatal mistake. Somebody could find out and use it against him. When Gozaburo had discovered these symptoms, he had cycled therapists and psychiatrists through the mansion for months trying to find someone to fix this broken child before his investment was ruined. When the professionals couldn’t make the problem go entirely away, Gozaburo’s assignments and ultimatums grew harsher and harsher for Seto to prove that he was worth keeping around. Eventually, the tasks became impossible.

“But… I just wish I knew how to help you better.” Mokuba put his hand on Kaiba’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t have to help,” Kaiba stated looking down at his hands. The cuts had spread and gone deeper, and the dark blood was now pouring over him and onto the floor, and worse he could practically feel it dripping onto the floor. His sleeves were now completely soaked. It would have been so easy to believe this was real.

“Tch.” The young Seto was not impressed, and Kaiba hated how his eyes automatically flicked in that direction at the sound. Seto had his chin stuck haughtily in the air and was looking down at Kaiba with contempt. “You wouldn’t deserve his help anyways.”

“Maybe,” Mokuba shrugged, and for a moment it sounded like he was responding to the younger version, even if Kaiba knew that was impossible. “But, I don’t need to help with Kaiba Corp business, and you let me do that. I want to help, and I could if I knew how. Like what would even help? Telling you its not real? You already know that. Tell you to concentrate on something else? Whatever you’re seeing must be horrifying. And, anyways, you’ve probably already thought of anything I could say. I’unno this is probably stupid... but I could probably get you some water or something…”

Mokuba lifted his hand and started to pull away causing Kaiba to panic, “No!” Mokuba stopped. Kaiba reminded himself that the blood on his hands and arms wasn’t real and then wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist pulling him into a tight hug. The rhythmic pounding in his brother’s chest was right next to his right ear, and his brother’s scent wafted into his nostrils. But, this time there was no strange shift inside him, just his younger self screaming behind him. It took a moment for the words to come out. “You being here helps.”

“Okay.” Mokuba immediately wrapped his arms around Kaiba. “I won’t leave then.”

Kaiba was glad for that.

Moreover, Mokuba was wrong about one thing. Just because he could think of something doesn’t mean he did because even his sharp mind started to lose things in the toss and tumult provided by his brain. And, when the hallucinations could pull his thoughts away from reasonable courses of action, just because he did think of something doesn’t mean he couldn’t be reminded. Especially when the person doing the reminding was his brother. His brother who could tell him he was hallucinating without a single drop of accusation or pity. His brother who wanted to help him while still thinking he was doing his best. His brother who understood that his best wasn’t enough yet somehow inexplicably managed to forgive him. Someone else and those words could have struck differently, but this was Mokuba. Kaiba knew Mokuba was good.

Things would certainly have been more complicated if this hallucination hadn’t been so fake or had managed to trick him. He’d anchored himself firmly to the world, to the things that could and could not be, in order to help prevent that, but sometimes things slipped through. He had made specific plans with Isono and Kisara on how to intervene and prevent him from embarrassing himself if they noticed something. What words to use. What to do if he didn’t believe them. Perhaps, later, he would tell Mokuba these plans as well.

“What are you doing? How can you touch him after what you’ve done?”

Time to ground himself, however much he hated that he had to do it. Fortunately, Mokuba’s presence made it easier.

There were things here that were real. Mokuba was one of them. For one, his hallucinations never went out their way to comfort him, and nearly always tried to shake him apart whether through physical threats like the fissure he saw in the bathroom, horror like the blood pouring from his arms and the dark reflections, or through a direct attack like his younger self was doing now. Their brotherly bond held strong; this was indeed Mokuba.

The details held out as well. Kaiba could feel Mokuba with a solidity that the younger Seto’s fingers and the blood on his hands lacked. One of Mokuba’s hands was on his back while the other wrapped around his head. And, this close he didn’t have to completely deny the sound of Mokuba’s heartbeat in his ear or the scent settling all the way in his lungs, though the intensity was both was a bit stronger than should be possible. Tuh-thub. Tuh-thub. Chocolate, anger, and joy. He breathed in and absorbed the reminders that Mokuba was alive. Alive.

Alive.

Kaiba turned slightly in Mokuba’s grip to glare at his younger self. Young Seto returned the favor. “What do you think you’re looking at, dog. Monsters don’t get to judge.”

Whatever his hallucination thought he had been about to do, Mokuba was here and well. He’d done many horrible things on his way out of hell, and his heart would be weighed against every single one of them. But, not only was his younger self suggesting something that was in and of itself impossible- laughable even- there was the physical proof that it didn’t happen right in his arms. Another tether anchoring himself to reality.

Kaiba breathed in, and then suddenly a thought hit him. The hallucinations had no smell. Young Seto had no heartbeat.

His first reaction was to try to push the thought away. Even if they were real, why would a younger version of himself or the blood on his arms have a smell? Why should he expect to hear a heartbeat? That would be ridiculous. Except of course that since waking up outside of the dumpster everything had a smell. Every person a sound in their chest. Even if these new smells and sounds were hallucinations, they had so far been consistent, and the one person who had seemed to break these new rules had proven them true by being a hologram. The smell of blood- or at least his blood from the cuts Jun Liu had remarked on and those that had appeared after striking the mirror to the needle prick in the doctor’s office- had consistently remained an off sour note that was currently missing.

Kaiba closed his eyes. He didn’t want to cash in on the new smells and sounds being real, but they were telling him that Mokuba was alive, so for once, he didn’t want to dismiss them either. He simply closed his eyes and breathed.

Kaiba stayed like that for at least a minute. When young Seto decided to go into another tirade or accusation to get Kaiba’s attention back, Kaiba decided to interrupt him this time. “Did you enjoy the chocolate parfait?”

“What?” Mokuba said while shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“They are your favorite, and I don’t usually let you have them before bed. I know you had one. They are supposed to be a treat, but you’d eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you didn’t have anyone telling you otherwise.”

“Is now really the time?”

“Answer the question.”

Kaiba felt Mokuba shrug. “Isono must have told you. Traitor. But, they didn’t have to tell me not to. I knew I had to step up with you gone. I helped Isono with business; I ate my veggies. The only parfait I had was put out by the staff tonight in an effort to cheer me up. I know they were trying to distract me, but I caved.”

“You did good. Did you enjoy it?”

Mokuba gave a halfhearted laugh. “A little. But, it would have been better with you here.”

“Hnn,” Kaiba hummed in affirmation. He opened his eyes to see that while the young Seto was still there, the image was wavering, as if his brain was finally starting to get the memo that the little gremlin wasn’t real. Kaiba slowly let go of Mokuba and walked over to the hallucination and swung his arm, now devoid of any blood, through the air without any resistance. He turned back to Mokuba. “Isono said you had the last two days off school. Are you behind on your homework?”

Mokuba frowned and looked down. “Only a little. After they sent me home, I tried to get homework done but things kept coming up at with Kaiba Corp and with the investigation, and even when things weren’t coming up… I kept thinking about the fact that you weren’t here. I did get some of it done though, I promise.”

Kaiba smiled, patting Mokuba’s head. “It’s fine. You’ll have the weekend to catch up.”

A groan escaped his brother’s lips that was cut short by a look of revelation. “Are you feeling better?” Kaiba glanced behind him to find the rest of the room empty and nodded. A worried look creased Mokuba’s featured. “I know its silly, but I can’t help but think that this is my fault.”

Kaiba’s eyebrows knit together and his eyes narrowed. “It’s my brain that is fucking up not yours.”

“Yeah, it’s silly.” Mokuba shrugged, turning his eyes away then looking back. “It's just that… you might not tell me much, but I do know that it only happens when things are bad. That it’s worse when things are worse. And…” Mokuba took a deep breath. His eyes looked wet, and his voice began to shake. The smell of stress spilled off of his brother’s body. “You seemed okay up until I hugged you; I mean other than looking a bit pale. And, I don’t know what it was like for you, but from here, it looked like this episode was pretty bad.” Mokuba wiped his eyes before any tears came out. “But, you’ve done so much for me that I feel bad for even thinking it.”

Kaiba put his hands on Mokuba’s shoulders. “You are right. It usually happens when I’m stressed, and this was particularly bad. But, it wasn’t you. It has been a very long day for both of us.” The image of the dead garbage collectors strewn about passed through his mind. A long day indeed. “I’ve had enough stress for the next week. It was probably that. Never you.”

“Figured,” Mokuba said looking thoughtful for a moment before chuckling. “‘Enough stress for the next week’? That must be a lot cause you live off of the stuff.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Kaiba flatly responded, ruffling Mokuba’s hair. “It’s probably time for you to get back to bed.”

Mokuba’s jaw dropped. “But, you just got back!”

“It’s one thirty in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Mokuba pouted. “I’ll go to bed after you go to bed.”

Kaiba rolled his eyes but realized there was a chance he would not be able to win this one. He usually was able to guide Mokuba fairly easily. But, Mokuba could be as stubborn as him sometimes, and when that stubborn streak reared its head, Mokuba knew his brother well enough to hold his own in the resulting argument. “I was asleep in a dumpster for the past four days, and just got up around… four and a half hours ago. I’m not tired. Plus, I have both business and school work to catch up on, and I have to figure out who did this to me. It’s my turn to be awake, and your turn to rest. We’ll talk more in the m-” He had been about to say morning, but suddenly a shiver went down his spine at the word. Something was wrong. He pushed the thought aside. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Bro,” Mokuba said with a smirk and a laugh, “considering the doctor said that you had been in shock, I don’t think it works that way.”

Kaiba pressed his lips together. He definitely wasn’t going to win this one, but he also wasn’t sure how long he was going to stay up. He still couldn’t agree to the current conditions. “How about I make you another parfait, and then you get to stay up for another hour before going back to bed. But, then you have to go to bed. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Author’s Note: I just want to thank @setokaibasbants for letting me talk to them about the chapter. Of course if anyone notices anything they would like to bring up, good or bad, feel free to tell me!

The piece about the previous hallucination actually came to me just as I got to that part. Like the moment I wrote ‘he had experienced one like this before’ the scene popped into my head. And, then I decided I wanted to write the context of his feelings around the scene more explicitly even if (other than the hallucination) it was a rip directly from the anime.

Also that unfortunately lead to a moment where I had 2-4 Seto Kaiba’s running around depending on how you counted and referring to each in a way that made sense based not only on keeping them separate but also reflecting their roles in the story. So, ‘young Seto’ for the hallucination, a full ‘Seto Kaiba’ for the one mounting a revolution (especially since Gozaburo was dancing around in the background there so just Kaiba didn't make as much sense for him), and plain yet authoritative ‘Kaiba’ for the present.

Kaiba scowled. It shouldn’t have been a temptation in the first place. Then again, his nose shouldn’t have decided to be so damn informative. His nose had no reason, no right, to tell him if someone was healthy or nervous or if no one had been there for the past hour, and if it dared to tell him that, there must be something wrong with it, him, or both. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time his brain had fucked up. He shouldn’t trust it, yet somehow he couldn’t convince himself not to. And, with that failure, the pang of curiosity lingered.

The second thing that gave him pause was a more practical issue: what to do with his packer. He felt naked without it, and he still had things to do and people to interact with before he went home. Even if no one else noticed, he would notice and that would be enough.  His skin crawled at the thought, and he considered placing it on the sink counter rather than in the pile. It's not like the detectives had a warrant for them anyway; he was complying to help prove his story, which the packer wouldn’t help with.

He curled his lips in thought.

At least with his binder there were health concerns to worry about. He had in the past forgotten to take the binder off after a long night working and had, upon realizing it, regretted the decision, feeling it press against his chest and constricting his breathing. Wearing it for four days straight… a shiver went down his spine. Even now he felt it press uncomfortably against his chest, so he pulled it off, accidentally creating a tear in the process. As soon as it came off, his chest and ribs adjusted to normal, but strangely being able to breath wasn’t that much of a relief. He vaguely considered putting it back on.

But, the packer and the binder were also completely unsanitary, and his disgust at keeping anything- even something as important as them- that had spent the past four days with him in the dumpster eventually won out. The smell alone was enough to give him second thoughts.

A sigh escaped Kaiba’s lips. At least, despite the years before he took blockers and the weeks at a time that Gozaburo would withhold them as punishment, his breasts were small; he could probably get through the night. But, there was a chance it could make his hospital visit later more difficult. He had carefully vetted his usual doctor to make sure that they could see past gender and hormones to any problems Kaiba needed addressing, but his usual doctor probably wasn’t up right now. He hoped that being assaulted and missing for four days would help focus the doctor’s attention, but people could be dense and frustrating. If Kaiba could get away with not dealing with them he would.

Kaiba wished that he had planned for this better when leaving a change of clothes in his room so that he could have a second packer on hand; however, he had never planned for this anyways. The clothes were for school nights that he spent at the office. He had assumed for example that he would at least have the shoes from the previous day, and now he would have to go with just his replacement socks or barefoot.

Before Kaiba could change into his new clothes, he needed to clean himself. he wandered over to the sink and just as he was about to turn the faucet on, he noticed something odd in the mirror.

His reflection was dark, as if he was cast under a deep shadow, not the diffuse shadows cast under fluorescent lights but like the shadow in the corner under the bed which obscured the details of anything down there.  On the left side of his chest, trailing down from what he guessed was the location of his heart was the darkest, and there the shade roiled like the clouds in his dream. His eyes, meanwhile, radiated a soft pale glow. The oddest part was that only his reflection was effected; the mirror showed the rest of the room as it should be.

He stared at the mirror, then down at himself.

Kaiba couldn’t say he looked how he should. His whole body was a sickly pale, except his feet which had a ring of off pink around the soles. And, on top of that he was filthy. Goop dripped down his front, where his wet shirt had stuck to his skin. He could still feel his hair cling to the right side of his face, while the rest was knotted and messed to oblivion. No, he looked absolutely horrible, barely human. But, there was nothing on his chest, and his skin was directly touched by the fluorescent light above.

He closed his eyes, counted to five, and then opened them. His reflection hadn’t changed.

“That...” As he opened his mouth he noticed another problem with his reflection: canines that were longer and sharper than they should be. He passed his tongue over his teeth. They were the right length; they were normal. “That isn’t real,” Kaiba muttered to himself.

He’d certainly had stranger hallucinations. His hallucinations were rarely pleasant, so clearly they’d draw from a nightmare, myth, and a glimpse of his attacker. And, the fact that he was still recovering from an attack meant that he shouldn’t be surprised his brain was acting up. Best to ignore it.

Sighing, he dunked his head under the sink and let it run. The process was awkward. He bumped his head against the sink twice, and he accidentally pulled his own hair as his fingers caught on tangles. But, there was also a relief as the smells from his hair started disappearing, and though Kaiba could not see the bottom of the sink bowl from this angle, he could imagine swirls of brown liquid pouring and of his hair and spiraling down the drain. He would clearly need to shower again when he got home. There was no way that this would be enough, but it was a start.

Kaiba then grabbed a mound of paper towels from the dispenser and finished cleaning. He pushed off the film from his skin, along with quite a few dead skin cells. He dug under his fingernails to get the last pieces of trash. He rubbed the blood off of the back of his hand to reveal pristine skin.

With each paper towel tossed in the trash can, Kaiba could feel the air become crisper. When he was done, he hazarded half a breath that, upon discovering its clarity, deepened to the point where he could taste the air. Kaiba found himself moving his head, testing how the air and odors shifted.

The air, for the most part, was sanitized, and solution still hung in the air. Different fumes wafted up from the floor, countertop, and mirror, but they all stung slightly. Especially the fumes from the countertop. Meanwhile, even just the smell of the soap was slippery, mostly flavorless except for a hint of vanilla. For the most part, the odors of the bathroom had been dealt with by the cleaning crew, but they hadn’t quite managed to get everything, since a faint trace of piss emanated from the far stall. Though he was fortunate to have his old clothes off him, they hadn’t stopped stinking either. Finally, he could swear he could smell Jun Liu standing guard outside the bathroom door. Old and starting to fail but still competent and powerful.

It was a lot to process. A lot to take in. Focusing too hard on it made his head hurt. Like his mind was being pummeled with detail after detail. Eventually, he was forced to lose focus and let his mind wander between the smells, strangely finding himself drawn towards those smells- even the less pleasant ones- connected with people.

However, it also felt natural. That some of the details were important, a part of a puzzle with something waiting for him at the end. Something for him to take. Like that was what he was supposed to do now.

What a ridiculous thought.

He turned his attention back to the task at hand and gathered the change of clothes that Arnold had brought down. Putting on the uniform, he mused on how none of this would have happened if he hadn’t decided to attend one of Domino’s public high schools.

In his mind, Kaiba didn’t have any reason to actually be there; he had learned nearly all of the material from Gozaburo’s tutors anyways. However, the Big Five and basically anyone else he encountered at the company had insisted that as a minor he continue his education. Even Kisara and Isono had pushed the idea, though at least they did so gently.

Still, everyone said that it would look bad for the company if he wasn’t in school. Running a major company was not something one could do as a hobby, Kaiba had retorted, so it wouldn’t it look worse if he were busy with homework. But, no, they had reminded him, how it looked didn’t actually depend on what he could and could not do, and as a minor it would look bad regardless. Everyone would assume until proven otherwise he wasn’t taking it seriously. A minor in school with good grades was an excellent student; a minor, especially one with such a dazzling future, out of school- no matter the reason- was presumed truant. If It was a lower job and he actually needed the money, the truancy may have been justified, but that wasn’t his situation and that wasn’t how people saw it.

So, here, why not continue with the tutor from before? You know, the one who worked you like a mule with barely a moment to catch your breath. Or look at this prestigious college prep school in Europe? Even if you completed your homework with time to spare, good luck getting back to corporate headquarters.  Kaiba never said this out loud but half suspected that the Big Five had suggested it to keep him busy and out of their hair.

Kaiba did not trust the Big Five one bit. They were simultaneously too loyal and not loyal enough. Hungry for power, they had easily turned on Gozaburo, the man who had brought them to the position and esteem they had now, but they also were still married to Gozaburo’s vision. Under them, the company would be the same war machine it had been under Gozaburo with a few cosmetic changes like taking marginally different projects with marginally different results. They didn’t want to change the ship or even change direction; they just wanted to be the ones at the helm, and unfortunately Kaiba had already decided to change course towards games: the bloodless battles, where the victor could claim the spoils and the loser suffer defeat without physical injury. Kaiba knew they would probably turn on him if not closely watched. He could not afford to be distracted by schoolwork.

It was Mokuba’s insistence on going to public school that inspired the compromise.

Of course he would continue his education. However, the school would be a short drive from the office. He may be bored out of his mind in class, but that gave him time to think about more important things. Kaiba couldn’t count the number of times he’d worked on his own projects right in front of the teacher, and so long as he wasn’t disruptive, did his work, and answered the teacher’s questions, the teachers learned not to care, or at least not to care too much.

This seemed to satisfy all parties involved, though some more than others. Kisara and Mokuba seemed the most pleased, and their heads seemed to fill with the bizarre notion that he might ‘get to know people his own age’ and ‘make friends’, as if he could afford to frivolously waste his time on such pursuits and as if anyone was ever in this world for anyone but themselves. At the same time, the Big Five were not happy so much as cornered into a compromise, but regardless they finally stopped pressing the issue.

It had therefore been a lucky break that he had even been in the school building let alone the classroom when Yugi Mutou had mentioned the White Dragon Necklace. Well, it had seemed like a lucky break at the time.

Kaiba finished buttoning his shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. He was still hallucinating, and in fact the shadows that obscured his skin were spilling onto his clothes. The smoke-like shadows that had been rolling out of his chest were more restrained, but the occasional wisp still poked through the fabric. It was a good thing- Kaiba conceded- that the hallucination was so blatantly impossible; the rock solid facts of the world always helped ground him. Even if he still struggled to ignore or at the very least not react to the visions, knowing they weren’t actually there was the first step.

But, however, easy this one was to deal with Kaiba never considered hallucinations a good sign. They came when he was sick, tired, and overworked. They came when he was scared that Gozaburo would lord something over him. They sometimes still came when he saw a mistake that Gozaburo would have lorded over him. They came when he failed to protect the few things he loved. They came to remind him of how powerless he was.

They came after he was attacked and left for dead. After waking up with corpses scattered around him. No, it had not been a lucky break.

The room began to bend and twist as everything that had happened came crashing down around him. People had died. He almost died. The floor appeared to crack and burst at the seems. He rubbed his neck and tried to get the image of the corpse’s ghastly lopsided stare out of his head. The walls warped further, and a fissure appeared between his feet. He closed his eyes and clutched onto the rim of the sink. He whispered, ‘This isn’t happening,’ again and again. Eventually, he opened his eyes. The room had settled down, and the floor was whole, but his reflection was still dark and wrong. He glared at his own supposedly glowing eyes.

Kaiba adjusted the shirt collar to make sure it was straight and proper. He arranged his still damp hair to look more presentable and approximate his usual cut. It was time to speak to Detective Shadi.

Kaiba went to grab the bag of dirty clothes and almost turned the door handle to leave before curiosity got the better of him. He reached down into the bag grabbed the collar of the dirty white undershirt and brought it to his nose. A quick sniff gave him all the information he needed.

It stunk. Of course it would. But, there were smells that he wasn’t expecting. There was something sweet and rich that permeated the area of the stain, yet… it was also burnt. Burnt with a side of rotten eggs. It repulsed him but in a way that was more personal than the rest of the debris. Like he knew it had been tampered with. Garbage was supposed to stink, but this stain wasn’t supposed to smell like that. It was his blood, and somebody had gone and messed it up. The ferocity of the thought scared Kaiba.

He stuffed the shirt back into the bag and opened the door.

Author’s Note: If you are wondering why I did what I did with the mirror: there are multiple versions of Vampiric lore around mirrors. One is that it is the silver lining that makes vampires have no reflection. Another is that mirrors reflect souls (of which vampires supposedly do not have). I decided to go with the later, but instead of vampires lacking a soul, their soul has been affected by the curse which shows up in the mirror. So basically I just ran with it in the complete opposite direction.

The corpse looked outward with its head rolled to the side revealing a tight ring of red on the neck and two pairs of holes in its center. Its legs folded unnaturally as if somebody had picked up a doll and dropped it, and Kaiba realized a moment later that the analogy might be apt. Around the corpse was a small puddle of piss, the man’s bladder finally giving up just before death. A hiss of air escaped the corpse’s lips, but Kaiba heard no breathing after that. It was probably just gas leaving the corpse. Kaiba leaned forward and poked the body, hoping his senses were lying. It was warm, but it didn’t respond at all. It was actually dead.

Tearing his eyes away, Kaiba hoped to find something to explain the situation, but instead there was another two bodies tossed to the side and a garbage truck idling behind him. A dumpster stood beside him with its lid open and horrendous smells wafting out. A trash bag lay scattered next to one of the other bodies.

What had happened here? What even had the power to do this?

The only thought that came to mind that wasn’t straight out of a myth was the boy who attacked him.  While Kaiba didn’t pretend that he was particularly strong, he wasn’t weak either, yet trying to move the boy had been like fighting with a statue. Glancing at the holes on the corpse’s neck, he remembered feeling pinpricks on his own neck after the boy had pushed him up against the wall, and how his body had lost all of its energy afterwards. The memory of the pain moved his hand, and he found his fingers sliding over his own neck. A shiver went down Kaiba’s spine.

However, he didn’t feel any holes.

He remembered the pain. There should be something.  Maybe it was shallow? He pushed his fingers harder across his skin, hoping to find anything to support the memory. Even a slight throb would do.

There was nothing.

He stared at the deep holes on corpse’s neck, and practically pinched his own neck in frustration. What was going on?

Kaiba then glanced at his left hand. He had seen red welts appear across the back of his hand when the boy had squeezed it, but now it looked pristine if a bit pale. He opened and closed it as if to confirm that it was real, that it was his. It was.

Maybe the memory was fake? No. He wouldn’t voluntarily go near a pile of garbage, let alone lay under one. Something had to have at least incapacitated him and probably knocked him out. Maybe the memory was exaggerated?

As if the scene in front of him wasn’t. Why was he alive while these people were slaughtered? If the boy had qualms with anyone, it was him.

Kaiba stared at the body in front of him for a while before he shook his head. This was spinning his brain in circles and not accomplishing anything. He closed his eyes and blocked out the dizzying questions surrounding how he got here. He needed to focus on what he was going to do next. As his first priority, he had to get back to Kaiba Corp and from there home to Mokuba.  Mostly he wanted to see Mokuba. There was no particular reason for it. His brother was probably just as healthy, happy, and safe as he had been when he went to school that morning, and his brother would have no idea of what he just went through. But, it was Mokuba that kept his will strong during the vivid nightmare, and it was Mokuba that he needed to see. Everything else would be planned around that.

So, he probably wouldn’t spend much time at the corporate headquarters. His original reason for going to the office was to read some productivity and labor reports, and he could just as easily bring them home with him. He supposed cleaning himself up in the bathroom would also be reasonable, since he wouldn’t want his brother seeing him in this sorry state. He would also need to change into spare clothes to replace his current outfit, which was both waterlogged and stained. The less reason his brother had to worry the better.

Having established the best way to get home to Mokuba both quickly and presentably, Kaiba realized that he would have to report the murder. He frowned; he wasn’t sure how long that would take.

However, it did need to get done. Not only would waiting too long be suspicious, but the victims deserved it. They had done nothing wrong. Hell, they had been doing their jobs when they were attacked. Jobs he would have previously dismissed as unimportant and trivial but somebody had to do them, and now somebody was dead for it.

Kaiba opened his eyes and glanced around for hints to his location. Now that he wasn’t panicking over the gore, he could see that he was in the lowest basement level of a parking garage. There were no cars except the still running garbage truck, though Kaiba mused it was making enough noise for the whole garage. It practically made his ears ring. However, the only way out was past the offending sound, so he started his march out, stepping over a scattering of broken glass by the open driver’s door.

The garage was probably the one behind the Kaiba Corp Tower, since Kaiba doubted his attacker would try to drag his body very far. Or, at least he hoped he wouldn’t have to walk far in the open with everyone able to see- and smell- that he had just taken a trash bath.

He left the worst of the stench behind him as he ascended the ramp, so he pushed some gunk off his face and ventured a shallow breath in. He still stunk of course; it would take a change of clothes and several showers to get the last traces of garbage off his skin. But, he also smelled other things. The asphalt. Leftover gasoline fumes. Even a faint trace of body odor from the long gone visitors. Other than the garbage people, there probably hadn’t been anybody here for the past hour, not even people working a late shift. While it was nice to finally smell something other than rot, a part of Kaiba worried about how quickly he accepted the information. He knew that simply sniffing shouldn't have told him that, but he couldn’t convince himself otherwise.

Not too long after starting to walk, Kaiba reached an alcove with an elevator, and he practically melted with relief upon seeing the Kaiba Corp Tower lobby listed on the directory. He jammed the up button several times before finally ascending to the first floor.

Despite having walked through the floor many times on the way to his office, everything was new. Familiar details from the gurgle of the fountain to the pulse of the fluorescent lights felt more intense, but new details also emerged. He had never before gotten a whiff of the cleaning solution from the floor, nor had he ever noticed the air vents particular hiss. He hadn’t heard the particular squeak of rubber soled shoes, probably belonging to a security guard, against the tile floor, nor had he heard the slight hush of the guard breathing. Finally, he certainly had never heard soft thumping tuh-thub followed the security guard’s footsteps.

Blinking, Kaiba recognized it as a fuller, fleshier version of the sound which had captivated him while he was in the dumpster. Without the hunger gnawing at his nerves, no urgent need welled up inside him, but it was still alluring. He kept listening as he walked towards the company elevator that would carry him to his office.

The elevator dinged to acknowledge his request. The footsteps turned towards his direction, and then the rhythmic tuh-thub quickened. “Hey! Are you supposed to be here?”

Kaiba turned towards the guard, a buff man staring at him with wide eyes. A quick flare of Kaiba’s nostrils revealed the man to be healthy, albeit a bit nervous, and unsure of exactly why it seemed relevant, he tucked the information away for later. Moreover, Kaiba’s eyes locked onto the source of the thumping- or at least what his ears claimed was the source- inside the man’s chest. But, it was impossible. To think that he could actually be hearing… that was ridiculous. To even entertain the notion…

“Answer the question.”

Kaiba refocused his attention and forced himself to fill his lungs with air. “Of course I’m supposed to be here; I own the building. Now, let me get to my office.”

It was almost amusing to watch the realization dawn on the guard’s face, but instead of turning away the man reached for the walkie talkie on his vest. “I have somebody claiming to be Seto Kaiba. It might actually be him, but I’d like somebody from the office to come down and confirm.  He seems a bit worse for wear.”

“Is it really that hard to believe it's me?”

The man gave a small laugh. “Looking like that? A little. But, I mostly don’t want to declare you found without checking in. I haven’t been here long enough to make that kind of call.”

Found? The word gave Kaiba a pause. Slowly words fell out of his mouth. “How long was I gone?”

The thumping quickened again, and the man shifted his weight. It was always hard for employees to deliver bad news. “You were officially declared missing three days ago.”

Kaiba felt the floor drop out from under him. Three days. At least, to give them time to officially declare it. So, make it four. Mokuba had been waiting for four days, unsure of when or if he would come home. Isono was there of course, which helped things marginally, but it didn’t mean that Mokuba wouldn’t worry. It certainly didn’t mean he was safe. What if somebody tried to take advantage of the situation? What if the police had given up on him and insisted that Mokuba go back to the orphanage? There was only so much Isono could do especially because their agreement only went so far.

The agreement was, of course, that Isono was technically Kaiba’s and Mokuba’s legal guardian. After he had taken the company from Gozaburo and after his adopted father’s suicide, the government had decided that Kaiba needed someone to look after him. Kaiba disagreed; he’d seen what could happen if he gave someone that much power over him, and he had just barely gotten out of that situation. There was no way he’d submit himself like that again. Plus, even if- and Kaiba considered this a big if- the person involved didn’t abuse their position, Kaiba also knew parents were unreliable; he had already walked three of them to the grave. The first time, his relatives for whatever good they were had taken everything and left him to the orphanage.

There was also the issue of company bylaws. Gozaburo Kaiba was a man obsessed with legacy, and since Kaiba Corp was the pinnacle of that legacy, it was one he had kept close his chest with plans to do so even in death. At the company’s founding back when Gozaburo had still been young, he had inserted into the corporation’s founding document that CEO must themselves be a Kaiba. While this had been partly a way to secure his position in life, Seto Kaiba knew very well the man’s obsession with finding a perfect heir of his choosing, one that could act as his proxy come death. The man’s quest had dominated five years of Seto’s life.

So, adoption was not an option. It would break the legal ties that bound him to Gozaburo and more importantly Gozaburo’s name. Perhaps in good times, it could have been argued that with the inheritance already won the ties no longer mattered, but times were never good. There was always someone ready to argue the other case.

Unfortunately, he had at the time only been just shy of fifteen, and adoption or not, the state demanded a legal guardian. Chikuzen Oza, the scheming lawyer of the Big Five, would have had some difficulty arguing against the government to let him stay parentless. To achieve that and allow him to continue to protect his brother Mokuba would have been impossible. Trusting Chikuzen to not attempt to take the heir to Kaiba Corp for himself? Now that was laughable. Chikuzen, however, was no Gozaburo, and alerting the other four businessmen was enough for their mutual distrust to take care of the rest.

So, the honor had to go to someone and most importantly someone Kaiba trusted. Someone close enough that the government would accept the thin charade, but that wouldn’t attempt to use or, even more broadly, control him. That narrowed the list of candidates down to two: Kisara and Isono. Kisara was herself a tempting option, but while there was a chance that either of them would attempt to actually parent him, at least with Isono, a healthy dose of professional fear would ward him off. While Kisara seemed to fear many things as a head of security must, Kaiba knew better to think that he would ever be one of them.

But, because Isono respected the agreement, Isono’s guardianship was only a technicality and a flimsy one at that. It had given his lawyers enough to work with, but an extended disappearance and increased scrutiny could upset that balance. For that matter, getting sent to the orphanage- despite being Kaiba’s greatest fear for five years- was the least of the worries now. Mokuba would be the sole heir to Kaiba Corporation, and while he had been stepping up to help recently and would have Kisara and Isono to help him, he wasn’t ready for that yet. The economics of it, management practices, how to foster research and development, Mokuba could figure those out in time, but the internal politics would eat him alive.

“If you don’t mind me asking, but what happened?”  Kaiba shot him a glare. “That’s cool.”

Eventually an older man emerged from a doorway at the end of the hall; another wobblier tuh-thub followed the new pair of footsteps. Kaiba recognized him as someone who often worked with Kisara but couldn’t exactly place the man’s name. The older man nodded at the guard. “Thank you, Arnold. That is him. You may leave.” Arnold nodded back and gave Kaiba an uneasy side-eye before leaving.

Kaiba decided to ignore the guard and turned his attention to the older man. “Where’s Kisara?”

“Simply at home, sir. She had been spearheading the search for you, but eventually even she needs to sleep. Would you like me to call her in?”

“No,” Kaiba rolled his lips in disappointment. “There was just something I was going to ask her to do. You could probably do it just as well.” The older man composed himself, ready for orders. “I woke up by the dumpster in lower level parking garage next to three dead garbage collectors. This needs to be reported to the police, and we should start our own internal investigation of the incident as well. I will be heading upstairs to pick up some things from the office before heading home to be with family.” He realized that the situation would likely be more complicated than that, but sometimes simply saying things with enough authority made them true.

“Sir… If what you say is true, then it may be best if you waited down here until the police arrived. They will likely want an official statement. We can have Arnold pick up your things for you.”

“Of course.” Kaiba still pursed his lips. This might take longer than anticipated. “All I need are a couple of reports that should have been left on my desk and a spare school uniform in the lower left hand drawer of my desk.”

The older man gestured towards Arnold and repeated the instructions before handing him a key and sending him off. Then the man turned back to Kaiba. “I know you may not want to discuss this, but as the senior member of security in the building, it is my job. Are you ok?”

“I’m covered in trash, what do you think?” The older man seemed unimpressed with this answer. “Fine, yeste- Monday night I was attacked on my way back to the office. My attacker easily overpowered me and knocked me out. Maybe he thought I was dead and tried to dispose of my body because the next time I woke up, I was at the bottom of the dumpster. The time after that I woke up surrounded by dead bodies.” As he spoke the authoritative veneer slid off his voice, and he began to tremble. “What if he’s trying to torture me? We need to do our own investigation on this. I need to get home as soon as possible.”

The older man reached up to touch him but decided against it when he pulled away. He rarely wanted anyone to touch him, least of all now. The man seemed saddened by this. “Don’t worry. We will be conducting a thorough investigation parallel to the police’s. You will probably be able to go home as soon as you issue the statement. Another thing I have to ask is what happened to your hand?”

Kaiba cautiously started to lift up his left hand, remembering that he had checked it for marks before, but the man shook his head and gestured towards his right hand. Lifting that one up, Kaiba noticed a web of dark red blood across his knuckles and the back of his hand. Without thinking he pulled it up to his nose and sniffed, but he immediately recoiled at the smell of something sour in addition to the trashy haze. Kaiba suddenly became aware of the absurdity of the action and turned way from the man’s gaze. “I must have cut it while in the dumpster.”

The older man then excused himself to call the police station, leaving Kaiba with his thoughts for a moment. He hated it. Not being left alone, that was fine. It was all the noises, smells, and lights that made a quiet moment loud. It was the choice between focusing on things which shouldn’t be there or letting himself remember the garbage collector’s face. Kaiba curled inward and crossed his arms.

Eventually the older man returned, and Kaiba decided to correct a mistake. “I’m not sure I have your name.”

“Jun Liu, sir”

That rang a bell. “Kisara recruited you on a trip to Beijing, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kaiba considered things for a moment then noted, “I will notify Kisara of your performance today. You have done well.”

Not even half a minute after Arnold came down with the bag of clothes and reports, two people and two pairs of tuh-thub walked into the lobby and headed straight towards Kaiba. One was a round woman with her hair pulled back under a scarf with a stiff step, while trailing behind her was a short man who walked like he was trying not to dance to the song in his head. Like Arnold they both smelled healthy and fit though in a softer way. As they approached the woman reached into her jacket and pulled a badge out. “Hello, I’m Detective Wasseem, and this is Detective Ito. The crime scene is cordoned off and being processed by the officers, so we would now like to speak with you.” Detective Wasseem explained, twirling the badge in her hand before putting it away. “You must be Mr. Liu, who I talked with over the phone, and you must be Seto Kaiba.”

She reached out to shake both of their hands, nose crinkling when she reached towards Kaiba. He reluctantly grabbed her hand. Her warm hand stiffened upon contact and her tuh-thub jumped for a moment, before she released her grip.

“Kaiba is fine.” His first name always made him feel young, and while he may be younger than Jun Liu, he had the senior position at the company. “It's a good thing you could come out here. This is important.”

“Yeah,” Detective Ito laughed. “You got quite a horror show going down there.” He sounded almost irreverent, but Kaiba’s nose detected a trace of unease. Understandable, considering they just saw the bodies. Detective Ito let out another laugh. “In fact, you’re not that pleasant of a sight either.”

“Probably not that pleasant of a smell too, so it would be best for all of us if we got this over with as soon as possible.”

“You can say that again.” Detective Ito leaned forward and smiled, but upon not receiving a response from Kaiba, his expression dropped. “So, Mr. Liu mentioned you getting attacked. Could you expand on that? What did the attacker look like? Did they have any weapons?”

Kaiba shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I was dragged into an alley on the way back to work. When I could see who it was, it looked like one of my classmates Yugi Mutou, who has a very distinctive look. Short with spiked hair and blonde bangs. But, the attacker was also very different. His skin was darker. His hair was more sculpted but his bangs were wild. He didn’t act like Yugi either.  Yugi has a reputation for letting people walk over him, and he doesn’t have much to back up what spine he does have. Not like this.”

“Yes, your file mentions that you had gotten into a disagreement with Yugi Mutou and his grandfather over…” Detective Wasseem pulled out a small notebook from within her blazer. “Over a rare necklace. Yugi Mutou spent that night in the hospital with his grandfather, who was injured at one of your facilities. Were the incidents related?”

“My file?” The information was correct. He had transported Sugoroku Mutou to a virtual gaming center owned by Kaiba Corp. There, they each bet a copy of the White Dragon Necklace on a game of augmented reality chess, where they each took the place of the king.

Unfortunately for Sugoroku Mutou, the realism of the game, especially the death of the bishops, peons, and knights, shook the old man, and he played a poor game. After achieving check mate, the program ended with the losing player being attacked by the threatening piece. It was holographic and ultimately harmless, but it gave the old man enough of a scare to pass out. Yugi and his gaggle of friends had escorted the man to the hospital, though not before Yugi had attempted to get the necklace back, a challenge Kisara quickly dealt with herself.

“Your missing person file.” Detective Ito gave a reassuring smile. “It says that your brother and your assistant Isono had insisted the department investigate your disappearance because she suspected foul play. We are merely trying to tie in what you're saying to what’s there.”

“Moreover,” Detective Wasseem immediately cut in. “The file had eliminated Yugi Mutou and his family as suspects, since there are witnesses placing them at the hospital for the entire night that you went missing. Are you sure you want to say the attacker looked like him?”

Kaiba titled his head. “‘The file mentioned’, ‘the file had eliminated’. It doesn’t sound like you two were officially on the investigation, so you don’t seem to be in a position to tell me what I want to say, particularly because I was the one who contacted you about this, not the other way around.” Detective Wasseem leaned away at the remarks but kept a stern expression on her face, while Detective Ito sent his partner a questioning glance. “Moreover, I specifically emphasized that my attacker resembled Yugi in some ways, but was definitely not him. So, whatever Yugi was doing that night is actually irrelevant.

“The incidents were, however, related. Along with some occult nonsense, my attacker mentioned Sugoroku going to the hospital. Not sure how he knew about it, but he did. In fact we had a scuffle over the necklace, and it broke. Not too long after that, the boy disposed of me.”

Looking back, Kaiba mused that he probably should have left the new acquisition with Kisara and the other necklaces, but he had been so excited to finally have it that his judgment had lapsed. Then again, he had not known at the time that he would be attacked and thrown in a dumpster. Life was unpredictable and harsh; he’d learned that young. Still, he had wanted so badly to own the complete set. In a way, he now had a complete set of three, but it wasn’t the same.

“What kind of occult nonsense? It might help us track him down,” Detective Ito offered.

“Bullshit about demons and darkness mostly. The way he talked, it sounded like he thought I was possessed or something.”

Detective Wasseem looked like she was trying not to roll her eyes. “And, how did the boy dispose of you? Did he have any weapons?”

“He was just strong. I could barely do anything to stop him.” Kaiba’s hand wandered up to his neck. “It gets a little blurry, but I remember him pushing me against the wall and then pricks on my neck, though I don’t feel anything there now, so….” He didn’t want to sound weak, but he didn’t want to sound like a liar, especially with Detective Wasseem already suspicious. He left it at a shrug. “I blacked out not too long afterwards. Next I woke up, and I was buried in the dumpster unable to move because of the smell. After that, I woke up outside it with the bodies around me.”

“Could we see your neck?”

Kaiba moved his hand away.  He looked expectantly at the detectives and then at Jun Liu, who had stepped to the side.

“I don’t see anything.” Detective Waseem chided, tapping her finger against the notebook.

Detective Ito shrugged. “Not being hurt usually is a good thing.” His voice wavered a bit, and the emphasis dropped on the ‘usually’. “It should be a good thing that it didn’t happen.”

Kaiba let out a sigh and looked down. He remembered it. He remembered being pinned against the wall. He remembered the pain at his neck, and he certainly remembered how everything went numb and weak afterwards. And, whether or not that happened, he still ended up in a dumpster for three or four days, and he still woke up surrounded by corpses. His hand slowly and gracelessly fell to his side.

“There is a stain on your collar, sir,” Jun Liu spoke, startling everyone. He’d been so quiet he almost blended into the background. It was only his breathing and tuh-thub that reminded Kaiba he was still there, and focusing on the detectives, Kaiba had tuned those out. However captivating the noises were, they were still so much softer than talking.

“There are plenty of stains on my clothes. I assume this one is different.”

“It looks like it could be dried blood, sir.”

Kaiba’s mouth went into an ‘o’. Maybe it did happen. Unfortunately, before he could further process this new information, Detective Wasseem cut in, “While we are on the topic, what about the blood on your hand. How did that get there?”

Kaiba hesitated then shrugged. “Must have cut myself on something in the dumpster.”

“Are you aware that one of the garbage truck’s windows was shattered? By the looks of it, whoever attacked those people, busted the window in order to get to the driver. Most of the glass was on the driver's seat, and the seat belt was even ripped apart rather than unbuckled.”

“What does that ha-” Kaiba was in the middle of snapping back, when he saw his hand again. The web of red across his hand was formed of a number of little streaks, exactly what one would expect if shards of glass had fallen across it. He touched his fingers with his left hand. It felt normal, unharmed. He looked back at Detective Wasseem, who glared at him incredulously, while Detective Ito for once did not attempt to offer any hope. The evidence did seem fairly damning.

But, it also was completely ridiculous. “First, you would think my hand would still be hurting if I punched through the window of a truck, and it doesn’t hurt at all. Second, I don’t think I’m physically capable of ripping apart a seat belt, even if- if- I wanted to. Third, what do you think I did? Hop into a dumpster, wait four days, abandoning my brother and my company in the process, only to jump out and murder some garbage collectors I’ve never met before. Oh, and then walk up here to report it. Do you realize what you’re saying?”

Detective Ito responded. “We aren’t saying we know exactly what happened, but a number of details are suspicious, your hand among them. The bodies were still warm; they couldn’t have been there that long. Chances are you were there when they were murdered, and unless we check the tapes and find that someone left the garage not too long before you woke up, then you are by default the only suspect. You are right that things don’t entirely add up in any case, but you see why we have to check.”

“Or, you could realize that your only suspect is sheet white, hasn’t eaten any solid food in four days, and still smells like the deepest pits of hell,” A mysterious voice announced, causing Kaiba to almost jump out of his skin. “I’ve seen corpses that looked more alive.”

It took a moment Kaiba’s eyes to find the source of the voice, which turned out to be a dark skinned man in a suit with a white turban wrapped loosely around his head. But, something was wrong, deeply wrong. After a second, Kaiba realized that he wasn’t hearing anything from the man, not any footsteps, not a breath, and certainly not a tuh-thub. Taking a quick sniff, he realized that there were no new scents either. He could see the man and hear the man speak, but otherwise it was like he wasn’t there. With that Kaiba started to realize just how quickly he came to expect those senses, even as he tried to deny and ignore them.

Maybe this was proof that he wasn’t actually hearing- Kaiba loathed to acknowledge it with a name- heartbeats. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be hearing or smelling these things. He was just out of it after being missing. In a dumpster. For four days. The stranger in front of him was normal.

The thought provided some comfort but didn’t stop the alarms going off in his head.

However, as Kaiba stared, wide eyed at the man, the two detectives were already talking. “Well, I can’t say whether I was expecting to see you here. You tend to work nights, but no one could find you around. Shannon said she hadn’t seen you around the department the past few days. Yet, somehow you always manage to show up.” Detective Wasseem almost spat the words out.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on something, but I appear where I am needed.”

The statement made Detective Ito laugh. “Of course you do. That’s why you have your finger in every pie in the department. And, you mention corpses looking more alive. I’ve never seen a corpse that sarcastic. And, for somebody who hasn’t eaten or drunk for four days, he seems fairly alert. Again, not saying he did it, but it is fairly odd, don’t you think.”

“Odd, perhaps. However, life contains many odd things, most of which we never know the rhyme or reason for. It doesn’t mean there isn’t any, though. The shock of waking up to that scene may have fed him some adrenaline. He may be pushing forward on willpower alone. He may be ignoring all the warning signs his body is sending him. We would never know just looking. Asking him may work, but there is a chance that even he does not know himself.” The strange man looked directly at him.

Kaiba blinked. They were talking about him, weren’t they? He curled his lip back in distaste. “I’m… no, I’m not entirely fine.” He continued staring at the stranger. “You haven’t introduced yourself.”

“Sorry for my rudeness.” The stranger gave a professional smile and bobbed his head. “I’m Detective Shadi. I was spearheading the investigation into your disappearance, and as such, I should have gotten here earlier. As said, there is important business I have to keep track of, and your sudden reappearance was quite the surprise.”

“It’s not like you were that much later than these bozos,” Kaiba snorted. Detective Shadi’s presence or lack thereof may be off putting, but he could still be useful. “Perhaps you can talk some sense into them.”

Detective Wasseem rolled her eyes. “If there is any sense in the Domino Police Department, it certainly wouldn’t come from Shadi. He transferred in half a year ago and has had the captain under his thumb ever since. He doesn’t have a partner and gets whatever cases fit his fancy. I’m not sure it even matters if he makes progress on them. Plus, whatever important business he’s talking about wasn’t with the department, and he hadn’t even put in leave. I don’t doubt the captain will somehow manage to ignore this, like everything else he does, but if you don’t want to look suspicious, he’s not the guy you want on your side.”

Detective Shadi seemed unfazed by the disparagement. “Maybe not me, but reason might convince you. If you leave him tonight, it's not like he can go anywhere. Not only is he the richest person in the city, but his face has also been plastered all over the news after his disappearance. If he wanted to avoid notice, he’d have to crawl back into a dumpster and even then eventually he’d have to feed. Let him go. You can get a warrant later.”

“Maybe,” Detective Wasseem said. “But, there’s still the issue of his health. ‘Not entirely fine’ is a long ways off from the condition we would expect someone with his story to be in. He should check into the hospital on the way home. It would be good to have a professional opinion on his condition.” She pressed her lips together and glanced at the ground. “You are right that he is a bit pale, and when we shook hands, he felt cool to the touch. He should probably get that checked out.”

Detective Shadi opened his mouth and then closed it before putting his finger tips together, glancing upward, and muttering something quick. He then looked directly at Kaiba. “Well, it seems like… a reasonable enough request.”

“And a necessary one for both the detectives here and myself,” Kaiba conceded. On one level, he felt physically fine. Better in fact than he had before the incident, which was a confusing and scary thought.  What if Detective Shadi was right and he was ignoring something?  There were of course signs. The sounds and smells that shouldn’t exist. The paleness and apparently coolness of his skin. The blood on his collar and across his fingers. What if he got home only to collapse on the floor? Kaiba wasn’t even sure why he was alive; the prospect of this all catching up to him didn’t sound far fetched.

“That would be satisfactory then.” Detective Wasseem did not sound or smell satisfied, but she put both her pen and her notepad away.

“I guess we’ll go back to examining dead bodies and pondering the depravity of human nature. Though, considering your clothes are covered in evidence, it would be great if you dropped them off at evidence. Later of course.” And, with that Detective Ito went back to lighthearted laughs and reassuring smiles. The two then turned to leave.

Kaiba turned towards Detective Shadi. “Are you going to be leaving as well?”

“There is something I would like to discuss with you before you leave, but if you have other business to attend to first, I can wait.”

Kaiba raised an eyebrow. “Surely, then, this can wait until another day.”

“No.”

“So, you think this is more important than a murder investigation?” Kaiba almost laughed.

Detective Shadi did not even blink at the question. “The investigation pertains to lives already lost due to circumstances beyond anyone’s control. What I come with now is a warning about what we can control and the lives, both yours and of those around you, that may be at stake.”

Well, if that wasn’t ominous. Though, perhaps Detective Shadi had some information on the boy who attacked him. While Detective Shadi was odd, he also seemed reasonable and competent, and Kaiba decided to hear him out. “I can’t imagine the scene I woke up to being an accident, but since you’re willing to wait, I have to first clean up. I’m not sure I can stand another moment smelling like this.”

Notes: As in the last chapter, one thing I’m doing with this work is having a lot of fun with limited perspectives, where no one has a complete idea of what is going on. Except maybe Shadi, but even Shadi has blind spots. Needless to say it was fun to write.

Bonus points if you can guess what Shadi was keeping an eye on. 

Also, I spent more time sifting through for typos this time, but there’s still a chance (probablilty sadly close to 1) that some made it through.

Thank you to @holybikinisbatman for helping me come up with names for Jun Liu and Detective Wasseem (her first name is Maram).

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace in question. Rows of pearls spun over his fingertips upon which dangled a sapphire the size of a peach pit. Between the sapphire and the pearls sat a miniature silver dragon curled around the gem as if it were its hoard. He knew his obsession with dragons was childish, but he couldn’t resist.

The boy rolled his eyes. “Anything that requires kidnapping an old man and sending him to the hospital is not won fair, especially considering you already had a dragon to sic on him.”

Kaiba narrowed his eyes. He did have the rest of the collection, three other identical necklaces that had cost a fortune to acquire, but the dragons were made of silver. He certainly couldn’t and didn’t sic them on anyone. Perhaps the boy was referring to his head of security Kisara and her team who had aided in the acquisition. She was fierce and had probably toyed with both the old man and the necklace, but she could hardly be called a dragon. In either case, Kaiba hated when people spoke in riddles. “So, what are you here for? To get it back? I can call Kisara to take care of you as well.”

“That was a part of the plan,” the boy smirked, quickly grabbing the other end of the necklace and pulling it just short of taught.

It was a challenge, and Kaiba could not turn down a challenge. He moved his own hand gently from side to side, carefully watching the boy mirror his actions. He then pushed his hand forward to loosen the string, and moved is left hand to unfurl the boy’s finger’s and release the necklace. Yet, before his hand could reach the boy’s, it stopped. Without Kaiba seeing him move, the boy had grabbed his left hand, and he felt the boy’s fingers press down with a cold iron grip. Kaiba’s eyes widened, and for a moment he forgot to breathe. How… ?

The boy continued to smirk.

Kaiba tried to move his hand, but he couldn’t budge the boy’s grip. Instead it felt like he was pushing against a statue. When he tried to pull back, the boy’s fingers pressed down harder, locking his hand in place. Red welts appeared on Kaiba’s skin beneath the boy’s fingertips.  The boy’s smirk intensified. Kaiba grit his teeth and tried not to flinch at the pain.

The boy was toying with him, and it burned. A memory of Gozaburo towering above him flashed through Kaiba’s mind, and he panicked. Pulling the necklace back, he felt the string go taught before breaking. Pearls cascaded to the ground, before bouncing and rolling away. Staring at the now exposed old cotton strings, Kaiba rolled then under his fingers one last time before letting them too fall to the ground.

The boy blinked and then frowned. “I suppose we go to the other part of the plan.”

“Or you go home before I call security. The necklace is gone. Neither of us can have it now.” Kaiba’s free hand slid into his pocket fumbling for his phone.

However, as he pulled it out of his pocket, the boy released his left hand only to swat the phone down and pin him against the concrete wall across from Kaiba Corp. “Unfortunately, you are tainted to the point where I doubt a priest or hunter could cleanse you, and even if you weren’t, your actions reveal you. You are filth.” The boy dragged Kaiba down the wall so that their eyes were level. The concrete’s bumps and crannies dug into his back and burned. The boy’s eyes almost seemed to glow with a pale light.“If it is any consolation, my partner would not approve. I hope the darkness eats your taint and frees you before you die.”

Kaiba’s eyes widened, and despite knowing its futility he pushed at the hands that locked his shoulders in place. He clawed at the boy’s exposed arms and kicked at the boy’s legs to no avail. He even, for a moment, screamed until he felt two sharp pricks in his neck and then numbness.

He tried to dig his fingernails into the boy’s skin, but his fingers felt weak and lethargic. They barely moved and slid across the boy’s skin before they stopped and fell. His feet skid across the ground a few times before they went limp. A few gasps of air wheezed out of his lungs, his tongue unable to form words. Finally rainbow patterns tinged with darkness wove across his vision, while his ears went hot with dizziness. All sensations became vague and blurred like he was miles away from his own body.

Then, the last light left his vision, and he fell to darkness.

An eternity seemed to pass and then Kaiba saw white in all directions. He blinked, twitched his toes, and shook his head, but everything felt off,  like he was existing slightly to the left of reality. He moved his feet again and noticed that he wasn’t encountering any resistance. He bobbed in place. A squeak escaped his lips, and he started to flail. It took a moment to steady himself, and by the time he did, he was panting. What the fuck was going on? He stared downward into nothing, eyes struggling to focus without anything to focus on.  Slowly his breathing returned to normal. Perhaps none of this was real anyways.

Looking back up, Kaiba began to notice a few details. First, a thin grey line started to form a horizon with wisps flying outward in both directions. Kaiba wasn’t sure whether it had been there before, but regardless he was grateful for its steadying influence. Second, a soft red glow emanated from behind him.

At first, the glow as disconcerting but curiosity got the better of Kaiba, and he began to twist his body to get a better view. Unfortunately, without anything to push against, he didn’t turn so much as slightly swivel in place. Glaring at the horizon, Kaiba pouted. Wherever he was, it was annoying. He concentrated on the horizon and willed himself to move, but before he had a chance to twist, he began to move, spinning on his axis. He startled and suddenly stopped, before concentrating and turning again.

He immediately regretted it.

In front of him stood a gigantic garnet bust of Gozaburo.  It stood nearly eight feet tall with deeply carved eyes staring down at Seto. In addition to the glow the stone’s marbled pattern seemed to shift as if it was the shadows cast by a fire, and Seto thought he smelled a whiff of smoke. However, there was no fire to be seen, and the only light here was the omnipresent fluorescent glow. But, the most troubling aspect of the bust was how it wasn’t quite human. It certainly had Gozaburo’s face and his condescending sneer, but there were also a pair of rams horns that curled from the edges of Gozaburo’s forehead and wrapped around his ears. The parting of his lips revealed rows of sharpened teeth.

Seto felt his heart pound against his chest. He tried to remind himself that he was Kaiba now, but in front of Gozaburo it never felt true. After seeing that face, even with the man driven out and dead, it seemed like he was one transgression away from being sent to the orphanage and one misstep away from a long night of studying with no breaks and no dinner.

Seto willed himself away from the statue, cursing how slow his body drifted. The horizon was now a thick black stripe. It roiled and churned with a physical presence like a sandstorm made of charcoal and smoke. But, anywhere was better than here.

The bust glowed brighter for a moment and then a strand of garish red lashed out at Seto’s ankle.  He pulled his leg towards his body and watched the strand pass beneath him, but soon other strands emerged from the statue and whipped towards him. He dodged one then two, yet eventually one wrapped around his torso and started pulling him forward. The outside of the swath was featureless, but it felt sinewy and writhed against his skin like a giant dry tongue. Grabbing and tugging on it jostled it and Seto around, but the efforts did little to detach himself or stop it from pulling him closer to the statue.

Seto barely saw the black clouds approaching or the light dim as he fought with the red swath. He pulled and tugged. He dug his fingernails into it and attempted to pry it off. He pounded against it and wedged his fingers between himself and it. None of it prevailed, and the statue held him 4 feet away from its taunting eyes.

But the clouds eventually came and fortunately they hit the bust first since at that moment embers flew up into the cloud quickly disappearing within it. The bust’s glow flickered for a few seconds and then extinguished. The swath writhed tossing Seto about before finally letting go. He didn’t have much time to react before the cloud completely overtook the statue leaving nothing more than a few bursts of light.

The black cloud continued rolling forward.

Kaiba glanced around, looking for a way out, but the only light was coming from above and below. The edges of the clouds formed a long thin tunnel in both directions With the cloud closing in, Kaiba decided to fuck it- he was floating anyway- and willed himself up. But, he moved painfully slow till and the dark cloud quickly consumed him.

The black cloud tossed him around like a rag doll and pelted him, though Kaiba could not see with what. It was confusing, and everything hurt.

Fortunately, not being able see anything and, in particular, being free of Gozaburo’s statue helped him clear his mind. This was nonsense. Everything that had happened since he got here was utter bullshit. There was even a chance that this was another hallucination, though most of his had only had auditory and visual symptoms. Seeing himself melting had been incredibly off putting, but he didn’t remember the experience being this physically painful. Still, Kaiba considered, a strange boy had just beat him up in an alleyway; some physical pain was probably par for course.

Moreover, if he was hallucinating, there was still reality out there waiting for him. There was still Mokuba waiting for him to get home from work. Mokuba who was going to enter the fifth grade and insisted on going to public school rather than just having a private tutor because he wanted to be with the other kids. Mokuba who helped manage the company despite not having undergone his first growth spurt. Mokuba who still smiled and wanted his big brother to smile.

And, if it wasn’t an hallucination, well, there wasn’t anything more he could do than try to make it through this.

The pounding increased as time went on until the smoke did something it shouldn’t be able to do: it tightened around his throat.  His already labored breathing became wheezes, and his fingers immediately went to his throat trying to find whatever was choking him. The smoke was thicker there but there was nothing to hold onto. He reminded himself that there was nothing there. This was not happening. He could still breathe.

He hated these exercises, but what choice did he have. He focused. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Deep breath in. One Two. Three. Four. Five.  Deep breath out. One. Two…

Eventually the smoke gave up trying to strangle him, and then everything felt like it was on fire. The smoke burned against his skin and lungs, even though there was still not a speck of light to be seen. Still, Kaiba couldn’t hold back the scream that erupted from his throat. His mind was consumed by the pain, but a small part of him was glad to have some proof that he hadn’t actually been choking. That hardened his resolve to push forward. He thought of Mokuba.

When Kaiba managed to make it through that, the smoke felt like liquid sloshing all around him. Instead of pushing against his throat, it slid down into his lungs. Instead of fighting to breathe, his body became convinced that each breath was killing him. But, it wasn’t happening, he reminded himself. It couldn’t be happening. Somehow he kept breathing.

After a while, everything stopped. He floated in peaceful darkness, waiting for the hallucination to part. While he waited a whisper came, or rather words came without a voice, “Your soul is strong.”

Kaiba tried to laugh, but it exited his lips as a deflated sigh.

“We tried but cannot consume you. Still, we took your life; it is ours. You shall consume for us.”

Suddenly, the world shifted and changed. It was still dark, but his other senses were tumbled upside down.

First, Kaiba noticed the smell. The previous place, which Kaiba was already discounting as a particularly vivid dream, was odorless except for the brief period of burning that smelled of ashes and cinders. Now, he smelled rotting food, piss, sour milk and molds. Even the most pleasant overtones of coffee and tea did little to help the unholy bouquet unfurling in his mouth and nose and sitting at the bottom of his lungs. The intensity was overwhelming, assaulting his senses like nothing he’d ever experienced. He breathed out, pushing the air out his lungs and hoping that, by the time he had to breathe in, the stench would be gone. It didn’t stop the smell entirely but it would have to do for now.

In addition to the smell, a shallow pool of liquid soaked the side of hair and the front of his shirt, and some had even leaked in through his previously parted lips. He sputtered, attempting unsuccessfully to spit out every trace of the liquid and then sealing his mouth against anymore entering.

Having provided himself that relief, Kaiba noticed he was no longer floating but rather was laying belly down on a cool metal surface with his head twisted to the side uncomfortably. Weight pushed down on him unevenly. In some places, the pressure was focused and sharp such as the line weight that went down his back before stopping at a point that dug into his spine. Other places were simultaneously heavy and soft. Whatever was covering his face stuck to his cheek and molded to his head’s crevices, yet pushed him down almost pinning him against the wet ground.

Kaiba curled his fingers around the pressure on his right hand hoping to move it out of the way. Immediately noticed it was a plastic bag by the way the film stuck to his skin and tugged when he pulled on it. When he tried to lift the bag, it buckled against the things above and around it. He was able to push it up half a foot before the bag ripped, releasing another wave of noxious fumes.

Kaiba dropped the bag and gagged, expecting himself to barf but finding himself unable. He continued to hope that he wouldn’t have to breathe in.

There was no choice but to lie there and wait. He let his mind drift to the city sounds around him. They were understandably muffled but also louder than usual. He heard the thrum of car engines and the occasional screech of tires. Somewhere far down the street construction was underway. The breeze funneling through the streets gave a low whistle he’d never stopped long enough to hear before. There were footsteps and distant overlapping conversations, though the muffling meant that he couldn’t pick distinguish any words. And, underneath it all were quiet but hypnotizing iterations of tu-tup.

A hunger began to crawl at the back of his mind. No. Not hunger. He didn’t want to eat. Whether it was the stench around him or something else, the thought of eating anything from a common burger to his favorite beef fillet sounded... disgusting.

Yet, the occasional tu-tup immediately lured him and intensified his hunger. He salivated, and something twitched in his upper jaw. He wanted to run towards whatever was making that noise and bite into it, rip into it. He wanted to hear it, but he also wanted to it to stop- to be the one who stopped it. The compulsion was so strong that he tried to stand up, but, again, shifting the bags released more foul odors that pinned him in place.

Kaiba was trapped and terrified. The pitch black sensory hell was bad enough, but now he had the hunger raking across his thoughts, giving him violent desires he didn’t understand. Why would he react so strongly to such a small simple sound? A need rang through his body to get up, go, grab the noise. I can’t, he tried reminded himself, but the need persisted. The only thought that placated it was the idea that he waiting, biding his time. And, with that, his consciousness drifted away, leaving his body limp.

He still hadn’t breathed in.

The next time he came to, he had an amazing taste in his mouth. Sweet and rich but slightly metallic, he swallowed and savored it. His tongue instinctual licked his lips, trying to find more. Moreover, he felt relaxed, and he finally think straight. The hunger was gone or at least sated.

That’s when Kaiba started processing the situation around him. He was no longer pinned against the ground, but was in fact standing. The smell was strong but not nearly as overwhelming. The sounds were crisper, including a blaring incessant beep. A pulsing light illuminated the scene, and Kaiba’s eyes drifted towards a pale corpse in a bright green vest slouched against the wall in front of him.

Kaiba tried to scream, but without any air in his lungs, the noise caught in his throat.

Author’s Note: I hope you all enjoy this! It's my first multichapter\longer fic in a while (though not my first one), so we’ll see how it goes.   Daydreams regarding this have been assaulting me for the past several days, so I really wanted to get it out. I will be starting graduate school soon, so while I plan to write regularly, I don’t know how quickly chapters will be coming out.

I tried to follow Kaiba’s perspective partly to emphasize how weird and confusing this was for him. Hopefully you were able to pick up on some things he didn’t, and if not hopefully things will become more apparent as the story moves forward. I did realize towards the end that I could have used a soul room for the white space sequence, but I loved the visuals of this and it was already written.