labels inyouropinion; control issues; implied shonen-ai; implied-technical-incest; split sections; walkthrough!noa's arc; OOC; drabble; oneshot; pg
.b.
noa is a control freak. the end.
Bang
You trip.
But you don't fall. Instead, you're stumbling along the pathway to regain your balance. The gravel chips under your shoes and it crunches beneath your feet when you stand up, straight and tall and surprised at having been caught off guard.
You're breathless, and you stare at the ground with something other than fascination. Plume-like zephyrs feather through your hair and rustle the shirt on your back, lining them against your hips and looping through the curves before they whistle past.
When the next breeze comes around, you're already anticipating it. Barely batting a lash, the system reprograms your weather to a sunny, windless morning.
It's a nice day for a walk.
--
Sometimes it all seems so real. The ice cream lady passes you a waffle cone when you draw near her, flashing a dazzling smile your way and bidding you good morning.
She's still smiling when you leave her.
It's summertime, as it always is. Entering the courtyard, cheerful faces meet your own and everything is so bright and crisp that you can't help but think that maybe you can live here forever. A girl runs past you, chasing her yellow ball one second and finding it in her arms the next. The nameless mother in the corner coaxes her child into obedience. A little boy attempts to outrun his shadow.
You lick at your congealed ice cream and find that it's vanilla.
You make it chocolate mint.
--
Pride is a wonderful feeling. Your father can be hard to please but you know you can soften his sides. After all, he must love you quite deeply if he went through all the hardships of preserving your body in this virtual reality. His genius made it happen.
But the offspring will always be able to exceed the parent; you've taken his project into the next generation of robot dogs and worldwide networks. There's no doubt about it: you're smarter, faster, and far more creative – just like your father wanted. He should be proud.
He ought to be.
--
You can do anything you want.
You can do anything you want whenever you want wherever you want and no one has the right to stop you. It doesn't matter if you use the systems to your advantage. Seto Kaiba is all talk and no walk and you're quite certain that you can show him up; because, after all, your father's training tool is nothing more than the common house appliance. You're much better than any temporary substitute.
The five babbling cooperates, despite their ignorance, can deal with Seto's tagalongs.
For now, however, you play a few mind games and have a little fun while you're at it.
You're a deity, a god, after all.
--
Something burns inside of you when you watch them. Not porcupine-head and his fan club, no; just Seto and Mokuba. You watch the subtle change of brotherly affection: from the minute rising of lips in a secret smile to the grateful cries of happiness despite the constant impending maelstroms.
These are the times you remember the fact that you're their brother; sometimes it aches inside you like a rotting hole. You've never thought that you might want a heartfelt relationship, and jealousy gurgles from your mouth like a continuous rainfall as you continue to watch your circle of screens.
That boy stole everything you've ever wanted.
But which boy, which want? These questions are harder to answer.
--
Gray is a pretty color.
Most people wouldn't think so but you're different. Gray is the color of stone – the kind of stone that statues are born from, bathed in between black and white. Dripping, sinking despair and magnificence and the same moment; it's an ethics to live by.
But this time, you're not so sure; and you hate it. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. You should've known what had happened, what was done, what you need to do – yet you didn't. Now you're confused and you laugh and laugh and laugh and wish for something more; you don't want to be like everyone else.
It's the end of his turn and you sneer flamboyantly.
Gray is a pretty color.
--
Failure is not an option, but sometimes the control menu infests with bugs and screws with your choices.
Sometimes, you don't have an alternative to fall back upon.
Realization bashes you over the head with reality and you stumble into the open, not knowing whether or not you're under enemy fire or over shallow fields. And when you come to a conclusion, you're feeling a little lighthearted and perhaps a little lightheaded.
Mokuba comes to mind - and Seto, despite all your protests, and all you can do is smile and pull the trigger. You're still in control, after all, and you're not so stupid (heartless) as to resort to pointless deletion. You're doing this for somebody, and you plan to do it right.
But which somebody, which plot?
You don't plan on telling.
fin.
.a.
finished september 7th, 2004.
bad ending, bad! thought i might've reached at least a thousand words. guess not. cue warning: new style – author wise, not writing wise (temporary. it's temporary; i'm in a phase.).
misura just informed me that sunfreak wrote a HondaKaiba ficlet under the same name. my apologies; i had no idea…
10:40 pm