Fairytale
AU eventual Prideshipping SetoxYami, "My brother doesn't believe in happy endings." After Mokuba's inevitable death, Yami finds himself the only one left to bear the cross that is Seto Kaiba's grief.
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Disclaimer: YGO does not belong to Lizzie or SK. It belongs to Takahashi Kazuki-sensei, who is probably more talented and sane. xD
Inspiration: The title and part of the plot is inspired by the song 童話 by 光良 (Fairytale/Tong Hua by Guang Liang) ((Sorry if the romanization is wrong x.x )) I know the language and don't romanize, usually.
Notes: Fairytale is actually the brainchild of Lizzie, SK's cousin who is too lazy and scared to post it on her own account. She's the one that addicted SK to Prideshipping so I guess I have to thank her for that? Anyway, this is an AU, and Lizzie knows that Yami Mutou is not 'the other Yugi's actual name, but for the purposes of this story, he has to be Yami Mutou.
Also, this is inevitably a part medical drama, except neither Lizzie nor SK are doctors, so a lot of medical facts may be off and we humbly ask your forgiveness. Lizzie just wanted to write out this expository scenario since it infested her mind five months ago and refused to go away.
We hope you all enjoy!
SK and Lizzie
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Domino General Hospital was a crowded hospital, yet there was only one patient that owned his own hospital room. There was only one patient that had an especial team of doctors watching him from around the clock. The doctors were all handpicked and none of them were local, except for one. A majority of them were from the States, one or two were from Europe.
The respective professionals, whether they knew it or not, had thoroughly been researched using countless medical journals, personal interviews with former patients, and the like. It was quite possibly the best medical team assembled in history. Which meant that they were infallible.
The person that assembled them liked to think so, anyway.
But even with the latest technologies and the best medical experts that money and research could find on his side, Seto Kaiba was still a cynic. And the cynic in him told him that he was wasting millions delaying the inevitable.
His brother was dying.
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"I still think I'm going to die."
The words were husky, barely audible, but they pierced the stillness of the room and Yami's heart like ice nonetheless. But for someone who was so sure that death was near, Mokuba Kaiba sounded very calm about it.
But where the patient was calm, his private medical team was anything but. Everyone echoed Mokuba's sentiments, except with more panic. They were paid by the day, and for each day that Mokuba lived and breathed, their lives were safe. When the day that Mokuba Kaiba ceased to live and breathe, a few unlucky people would probably cease to live and breathe right along with the unfortunate patient.
Yami Mutou was one of them. Although his role on the team was relatively minute; coming on board as the genius intern that every medical team needed to do the dirty work, he had signed the same contracts as everyone else. He approached the bed; the sheets smelled heavily sterilized. Again. He had lost count of how many times they changed the sheets.
"Don't say that." He admonished quietly.
"It's true, isn't it?"
Yami did not answer. He sucked in a deep breath and looked down at the clipboard he carried and found no answers. "It's not my place to say."
"Why? Because my brother would murder you if you said that to me?" Mokuba asked, Yami had to look twice to realize that the young man was smiling.
Mokuba was dying, even Yami, who was just enough of an optimist to stay in self denial, knew it. By the tinge of bitterness that clung to Mokuba's smile, he knew that his patient knew it too. Yami sighed. "Partially." He admitted, and cracked a half smile of his own, "I doubt you'll blame me."
"I don't. But I don't think I'll ever understand you, either."
Yami paused. Of course Mokuba wouldn't understand any of it. It wasn't news that Seto Kaiba absolutely doted on his little brother. And for fleeting moment, Yami almost envied him. At last he shrugged one shoulder, "Be glad that you don't."
There was silence. But it was not a stifling silence, it was a calm silence that Yami could leave alone. He marked a few things on his clipboard, such as the fact that Mokuba's overall color was better, even though he was still dropping weight, not surprisingly. Pointless things to mark, mostly, but the little observations made Yami feel like he was being useful.
Yami stopped only when the blank he had come to required him to document what his patient had eaten that day.
"Have you eaten today?"
Mokuba shook his head no.
"...Could you try?" Yami knew he had to tread carefully. He had to get Mokuba to eat, though not in a way that would be considered nagging. The last thing he wanted to do was put Mokuba in a sour mood.
"I guess, since Seto tries so hard to make hospital food gourmet. It's just like him." Mokuba said, and Yami breathed a mental sigh of relief as he moved to help the other sit up.
"He wants the best for you." Yami said that, because he didn't know what else to say.
"I know he does." Mokuba sounded just a little bit wistful. "I lived a good twenty years, it's impossible for me not to know something like that."
The man was twenty. Yami tried to remember what he had been doing when he had been twenty. The only thing he had in common with Mokuba as far as he could see, was that he also spent a lot of time in the hospital. Though for an entirely different reason altogether. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to be dwelling on such a track of thought. Yami crossed over to where the wall phone was and spoke a few words to the nurse that picked up.
When he hung up, Mokuba said, "Will you stay here with me while I eat? They say conversation really makes the food go down."
"All right."
The game of self denial. Yami wasn't a willing participant, but he was a decent player. Two could play the game.
-
Mokuba's 'gourmet' hospital food arrived a couple of minutes later on a self-heating tray. Although Yami wondered vaguely why the man insisted on calling it 'hospital food' when it was especially catered from the Italian restaurant on the other side of town. It was another fortune come and gone, and Yami almost knew that his patient was going to throw it all back up sooner or later..
"Why don't you sit down, Yami? You standing around and pacing makes me nervous."
Mokuba called him Yami by Yami's own request. Somehow, it felt nice to be called what he was actually named as opposed to the very rigid title of Dr. Mutou. He pulled up a stool and obediently perched on it, the clipboard settled in his lap.
"D'you want some of my hospital food?" Mokuba gestured, "You can have the pastry. It's a shame to let personal catering all go to waste."
"Just hearing you call it hospital food makes it less appetizing. Why do you do that?"
"Because it is hospital food. I'm eating it in a hospital, and I can barely keep it down." Mokuba's voice sounded eerily calm no matter how Yami tried to interpret it. "No matter how hard Seto tries, no matter how hard you guys try, it doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact that I'm still dying sick in a hospital."
"Do you speak this way to your brother?"
"No. But I have to say it to someone. It might as well be you."
I wish it wasn't. But that statement wasn't one that Yami had the privilege to voice. Instead, he took Mokuba's proffered pastry and bit into it. Subtly sweet, and he was careful not to let any of the juices drip down his chin and stain his white coat. He chewed thoughtfully for a long, long moment and then repeated his earlier query, "Why do you do this?"
"Why shouldn't I do this?" Mokuba returned, he did not sound bitter, merely resigned. "I'm tired, I'm dying. This is my way of reconciling. I know that no one else wants to come to terms with this, but I would like to."
Yami nibbled some more pastry, "Do you want to die?" He asked at last, knowing perfectly well just how lame his question sounded.
"No. But I know I'm going to. Seto knows it too." Mokuba was quiet. He took in a small spoonful of soup. "Why make everyone else's lives miserable by not admitting it? This is one way that I know I'm not like Seto."
"Can't you at least try?"
"I have been, for all three months that you've looked after me. I have been trying." Mokuba assured him, "Though...it's good to be prepared. I prepared a will. Seto's lawyer helped me."
"Does Kaiba know?"
"No, I swore him to absolute secrecy." For a few fleeting seconds, his patient grinned. "Besides, my will doesn't affect Seto all that much."
Yami was genuinely surprised, and then not so much. He bit into his pastry once more.
"Yami?"
"Yes?"
"May I swear you to absolute secrecy too?"
The request immediately set off alarms. Yami's mind spun. Because he was a doctor, and because medical school encouraged all sorts of over analysis, his logic naturally lead him to unpleasant conclusions. He swallowed the last of his pastry and reached for a tissue. "That would depend on your intention. If it doesn't involve assisted suicide, I'll thank about it."
Mokuba snorted, "Do all doctors think this way?"
"When it's a life and death situation, we're encouraged to think death."
"That's comforting." His patient carefully tore off a bit of bread and sampled it, "However, my intention does not involve assisted suicide, or death in anyway. I never said I wanted to die, Yami; I just said I wanted to come to terms with it. There's a difference."
"Then I don't see why not."
Mokuba offered him another feeble grin, and gestured to his plate again, "Want some more food?"
Yami looked at the tray. Thus far, Mokuba had managed five spoonfuls of soup, three nibbles of bread, if not that, then certain something close. Even given his current condition, which left much to be desired, his eating habits could be better. "I'll take a plum." He said finally, "But by the time I finish that, I'll expect the soup to be half gone."
"I'm twenty, not eight." Mokuba sounded just a little miffed. "Everyone's allowed to grow up every once in a while. Especially me."
"Kaba doesn't let you?" For some reason, Yami found this almost amusing as he helped himself to the plum. It was almost reminiscent.
"Hardly." Then his patient was quiet again. Mokuba took in a dutiful sip of soup before speaking again, "...Seto hardly stops by to see me anymore. Kaiba Corps stocks are down too. But that's not surprising. How is Seto going to live without me, Yami?"
"...Am I supposed to know the answer?" The plum left an unexpectedly sour taste in Yami's mouth, or perhaps he was just being delusional.
"No. You're not. I thought I'd get lucky."
And this time, Yami couldn't resist a retort. "You're Seto Kaba's precious kid brother, you're plenty lucky."
There was silence, "Yeah, I guess."
The moment the words left his mouth, Yami bit his tongue. "...I shouldn't have said that."
"No, it's okay. It's refreshing when someone dares to be honest with me, in spite of my last name." Mokuba shrugged, "I've been spoiled all my life, so yes, I guess I'm very lucky." After another tentative sip of soup, he changed the subject, "...May I tell you a bedtime story? Seto always made them up for me when I was little."
The plum was permanently sour. Yami looked at Mokuba, uncomprehending for a long, long moment, "...Is that why I have to be sworn to absolute secrecy?"
"Yes. I'm technically not suppose to tell anyone. Seto says the stories are embarrassing."
Yami could not help but crack a vague half grin again. Seto Kaiba and...personalized bedtime stories. No matter how he looked at it, it was a novel discovery. "I've sworn myself to absolute secrecy." He agreed solemnly. "...Go ahead."
"Wait. I've finished half of my soup. Can I lie down?"
"Let me see."
Mokuba held up the bowl for Yami's inspection, and though it didn't look like half to Yami, he still nodded and relieved the bed table of the mostly full tray so that his patient could lie down. "All right." After that was done, he returned to his stool and his clipboard. For what his patient had eaten that day, he penned in half a bowl of soup, and minimal amounts of bread.
"...Yami?"
"I'm listening." Yami said.
"Once upon a time, there were two princes. They shared a kingdom because one couldn't rule without the other. One prince was very kind, and he was much loved throughout the kingdom, while his other half was a merciless, vengeful beast that all of the commonfolk hated." Mokuba rolled onto his side with some difficulty to face Yami, "And yes, Seto likes to make everything blatantly obvious. I was little."
Yami said nothing.
"One day, a witch came to the kingdom. While the kind prince showered the visitor with all sorts of honors, the witch was actually secretly pillaging the kingdom of all its treasures. When the merciless prince found out, he locked up the witch in a deep dark dungeon and cursed the kind prince for being so kind."
"Ouch."
Mokuba chuckled, "Yeah...lucky me, I was too small to catch that subtlety." A long pause, "Anyway, after he cursed the kind prince, the merciless prince feels very guilty. So he tells the kind prince that he would grant the kind prince any one wish. After thinking for a long time, the kind prince said he'd like the merciless prince to release the witch."
"Of course, you know, the merciless prince was incensed again. He had all the reasons in the world to be upset. The witch was his enemy, after all. But then, because he promised, he had no choice but to set the witch free from the dungeon just as his other half wished."
"And then?"
"The witch was angry too." Mokuba said, "The witch was angry because all of the 'treasures' that the two princes possessed were taken unfairly from other smaller neighboring kingdoms. Of course, the kind prince had no idea. The rings that he he wore on his fingers were also stolen treasures, every gift that the merciless prince had ever brought back to spoil the kind prince...they were fake."
To Yami, this story was getting more and more morbid. He vaguely wondered how Mokuba managed to sleep after all this. But he only said, "Go on."
"The kind prince never got angry, not even once. But when the witch told him that all of the treasures that he possessed were fake, the kind prince got angry. He demanded to know if all of the emotions that the merciless prince possessed towards him were fake as well. From then on, the kind prince never spoke to the merciless prince again. He locked himself in a room, refusing to eat, refusing to see anyone."
"Without the kind prince for guidance, the kingdom sank into anarchy, and the merciless prince's own health grew worse and worse. It got so bad that the merciless prince began to go insane. He too, began to refuse food and drink, and eventually, he refused to sleep. Naturally, this threw the few nobles that were still loyal to him for whatever reason into a state of even greater alarm."
"...And?"
"So the nobles began to plead with the kind prince, who still insisted on locking himself away. They tried everything that they could think of to seduce him from the chamber. They told him that the country had fallen into ruins, and the merciless prince was dying." Mokuba paused, he looked almost wistful. "Of course, after hearing that his other half was dying, the kind prince hurriedly unlocked himself and hurried to the merciless prince's chambers. The merciless prince was still living, but barely."
"And then?"
"I don't know." Mokuba said, "I always told him I didn't want to hear anymore. I didn't want to hear him die. Ironic, isn't it?"
Yami stared at his clipboard, "...So...you don't know the ending?" He found that he was disappointed. Just a little.
"No. But I can tell you that it's probably very tragic. My brother doesn't believe in happy endings." Mokuba looked at him, "Not even for fairy tales."
Yami opened his mouth to say something else, but then a nurse beat him to it when she stuck her head tentatively in the room and reported, "...Dr. Mutou, Mr. Kaiba is here. Are you all finished?"
Seto Kaiba was here. Which was Yami's cue for hightailing out of Mokuba's hospital room – and quick. He got to his feet and thanks to habit, straightened his coat, he offered a faint smile to the patient on the bed. "I guess we are." He spoke to the nurse, and to Mokuba, he said, "...Try to finish your soup while your brother is here. Ask him to help you."
That made Mokuba laugh, he laughed so hard that he ended up coughing and for a moment, Yami was alarmed. But the man recovered on his own, although his voice was still husky. "You don't know what you're asking, Yami."
Yami pause with one foot out the door, Yes, I do. The thought was unexpectedly bitter, I'm asking the impossible.