A/N: I hate this story. It's stupid, sappy, and completely unlike what I normally write. Or not. Anyhow, please review!
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, nor do I own Noa Kaiba.. I really, REALLY wish I did though.
Will you remember me when I'm gone?
Memories are a precious thing. They last forever, and cannot be destroyed by death or destruction. In most cases.
But, Father, you seem to have destroyed some of your memories of me with all your plotting. For you never seem to remember the real me any more.
Can you remember me when I was little, running down the beach and yelling because the sand was too hot? Do you remember I was four, blowing so hard on my birthday candles that the icing splattered over Cook's face? Can you remember every little silly mistake I mad that made you laugh, and made you smile?
Or can you only remeber me as the boy whos name is or was Noa, the boy who is a carbon copy of Seto Kaiba?
As I sit here, in the little computerized control room you made for the not-so-little computerized world that you also made for me, I wonder this. As I lean my head against my hand, I think "Does he really care? Or is his care centered on his company?"And, I know, you're probubly more concerned with your company than with me. Fine.
Something wet is trickling down my face now. A tear, as lonely, solitary, and sad as I am. A tear, running down the cheek of a robotic boy. A robotic boy who has feelings.
Yes, Father, I do have feelings. And I do have hopes and dreams. But each one has been smashed and crushed. Like I was on the window of the limo.
Remeber back to that day in June. I had just gotten out of school. It was a perfect day, with a few tufts of white clouds against a bright blue sky. The limo was just waiting at a stoplight, with me in it.
And then came the drunk driver. They hurtled towards us, and impacted without so much as trying to stop.
It hit the driver head on. I didn't even a chance to pray. And I was only ten. Ten. Think hard. Do you know what it feels like to a ten year old to know that their life is about to end?
No, I don't think you do. Even if you did, I don't think you'd care enough to even feel sorry.
I'm sobbing now. I'm practically punching myself. You think I'm still alive, don't you, Father? Well I'm not! I can't possibly be alive if you've forgotten me!
Which brings me to ask you this, Father. It's pointless, since I already know the answer. But still; Father, will you remember me when I'm gone?
sob, sob Poor Noa. He's so misunderstood. And so KAWAII! :D Ahem I know this was kinda short, but I wrote it partially at school and partially at midnight, so I didn't have much time.
