I was in need to write something different and interesting. Voila.

A dull radiation pricked uncomfortably at his closed eyes. He shifted, hiding his face in the cool material of his shirtsleeve, expression tired and aggravated. A buzzing hum filled the absence of the dimmed light, and he grunted, a low sigh of frustration escaping his lips. His hand slowly lifted, knocking the hard surface of his laptop monitor. He frowned and rested his hand on the top of the screen before gently pushing it downwards, eliciting a small click as the lid was locked into place. The hum increased briefly before disappearing a moment later, leaving the youth in a state of quiet solitude. He left his hand resting on the cool surface of the laptop, tired body unable to summon the strength to place it anywhere else. His head throbbed, and he groaned, breath coming slowly.

He was exhausted.

The warning words of his brother echoed in his mind. Quit working so much, the younger had scolded, or you'll end up working yourself to death.

If the youth was feeling anything right now, it was amusement and slight regret. He supposed his brother would be wearing a smug expression when he found out that his older sibling really had worked himself to death. At least, he assumed so, after the little disagreement the both of them had experienced a few days ago. In his lethargic state, he was unable to bring up any details of what had started the argument in the first place. The only memory that he was able to recall at this moment was the anger and frustration in his brother's voice as the younger had yelled at him, and then the slamming of the door and the harsh sounds of glass breaking. He could also remember an unpleasant stinging sensation in his hands, but it was not difficult to see the reason for that. Glass shards were sharp.

He vaguely wondered what the time was, and could only assume it was rather late, as he was unable to hear any of the usual activity in the hall outside his office, nor was any sunlight pounding in unpleasantly through the blinds on his window. He debated briefly on whether or not to call his driver to come and pick him up, but soon discarded that idea, as he remembered he had drove himself to work today. He sighed at the thought of having to drive himself home. His eyes were stressed and tired from the innumerable hours of strained efforts to keep them open. His body was weak from fatigue and lack of food. His vision (when not already marred by his over-strained eyes) was dulled and obstructed by his ever-increasing headache. He felt rather helpless, to tell the truth, and he was more disgusted at that fact than anything else.

He would rest for a short while. Even a small amount of sleep would provide enough of a refresher for him to effectively get himself home. His breathing slowed to the point of near non-existence, and his body relaxed. The signs of strain and stress slowly ebbed from his expression.

A low beep woke him instantly.

He grunted and forced his head off its comfortable resting place on his arm. His eyes slowly wrenched open, immediately squinting at the illuminated pad of his desk phone. His hand slowly fumbled for the receiver, knocking it onto the desk with a loud bang that made the youth wince. With as much care as he could manage, he slowly pulled the phone cord toward him, shifting his head and the receiver so that he could decently hear and speak into the machine without exerting too much effort on his part.

"…What."

Silence. The line was disconnected.

A small frown came to his face, and he slowly pushed the receiver away, resting the side of his head on his outstretched arm for a moment. There was something interesting about that, but his mind was too tired to think about it. The fact that it was slightly unusual did not even cross his mind. His thought process was too immersed in annoyance and weak frustration at the whole ordeal. His position remained unmoving for the next few minutes, until he slowly straightened up, holding a hand to the side of his head to stop any dizziness that may have occurred. He finally discarded his hesitance to leave his office. He needed sleep.

His fatigue elongated the suffering of lifting himself out of his chair, and finding his way to the closet to retrieve his jacket. He unable to coordinate himself enough to even put on the article of clothing. He left his office with the jacket over one arm. In some form of rational thinking, he chose the elevator over the stairs, although that was more personal preference on his part than anything. He leaned against the elevator side as it slowly made its path downwards, resting his eyes. The low, vibrating hum was slowly lulling him to sleep. He drowsily looked up at the floor count over the elevator doors, making some small effort to figure out how many levels until he reached the main floor. A small beep rendered his efforts pointless.

"Mister Kaiba?"

He felt a pair of arms steady him as he slumped to the side at the elevator's abrupt stop. His eyes struggled to focus on the person in front of him, and then gave up as he was gently steered forwards, held firmly upright by whoever had a grip on his arm.

"I was just coming to bring you some coffee, sir. You can have some still, if you want."

Something small and narrow touched his lips. The other lifted his hand and put the small cup firmly in it, and he automatically closed his fingers around it, opening his mouth to drink from what he dimly recognized as a straw.

"You almost look like a robot right now. I'm happy to see you finally going home. It looks like you could use the rest."

As mundane as the youth's mind was, he still experienced a slight sense of amusement. What an understatement the other's comment was. Still, he said nothing, and sipped his drink quietly, ignoring the burning sensation on his tongue as the hot liquid entered his mouth. There was silence for the next few minutes, aside from the footsteps he and this other person were making. The caffeine was slowly affecting his senses, and although a good deal of the lethargy remained, he was now able to fathom some of the things happening around him. He knew that the person supporting him was the janitor that worked the nightshift, and that this was the same janitor that brought him coffee the last three nights he had been working in his office. He also figured out that this janitor was helping him to the employee parking lot. His thought process faltered there.

"Where are we going …?" His voice was hoarse from lack of use in the past 72 hours. He had not parked in the employee parking lot. He had parked at the back entrance, as he did every time he came to work. Even his fatigue could not obstruct that memory.

"Your vehicle got moved back here, sir. It was a violation to be parked for three days in the loading zone at the back."

Oh.

The sound of an opened door brought forth a cool wind that brushed against the youth's unsuspecting body and made him shiver. The janitor chuckled gently.

"Don't worry, you'll be in your vehicle soon. I called your driver to come and pick you up. You're in no state to drive."

The youth had a vague remembrance of his temper when things were not done his way, and assumed that in any other circumstance, he would have snapped at that person who showed such insolence in his presence. Tonight, he simply had not the strength. Instead, he remained silent, and stopped his efforts at training his eyes to remain open for just a short while more, as he no longer had position of driver. His body continued to shiver, however, and he felt his coat lifted from his arm. It was placed around his shoulders, and his hands lifted to meet it.

"This isn't all that healthy for you, sir. You'll need a few good days' rest before you think about returning back to work. It's not safe to deprive yourself of sleep for that long."

He felt a weak urge to answer with a cold remark, but he dismissed it. It was not worth the effort at this time. The faint sound of a running engine came to his ears, and he heard the janitor beside him breathe a sigh of relief.

"See, sir, there's your driver. Now you can go home and sleep."

"Not likely."

The harsh voice was the only thing that registered as strange in the youth's mind, but before he could comprehend why that was, a shot ripped through the air. His eyes snapped open, and then immediately squinted in protest of the too-bright headlights that were bearing down on him. He felt the hold on his arm weaken, and then disappear entirely. He heard the form slump to the ground.

His arm was yanked roughly up behind his back. Without thinking, he drove his heel backwards into the other's knee, resulting in a harsh yelp of pain as his arm was swiftly released. He stumbled, struggling to balance himself as his alertness returned, resultant of shock and slight fear. He turned, and something caught him about the legs, sending him to the ground. He landed painfully on his side, and a low cry escaped his throat as his head struck the hard pavement. He lay there, breathing heavily, eyes shut tight in pain. He dimly registered the sounds of movement near him, and the sound of a vehicle door being opened.

"Did you get him?"

There was a grunt, then a low series of curses followed by a snarl of pain. "He's over there."

The footsteps approached the youth's head, and his eyes opened slightly, unfocused and dazed from the blow the pavement had dealt him. He saw the dim outline of a figure bending down, and something taking hold of his arm and pulling him to his feet. The ache in his head intensified at the sudden movement, and then suddenly vanished as a finger touched down on the pressure point on the side of his neck. Darkness washed over his vision, and he felt himself go limp, slumping back into the other's arms. The blackness overtook him, and he knew no more.