Hello Fascination
Walking quickly towards the large skyscraper looming ahead, Kaiba paid little attention to the cries of shock as he power walked down the sidewalk. Within the safety of the limo, he normally didn't have to deal with the commoners of Domino City, but today had started especially sour. Due to a massive storm, power had gone off throughout the city, which normally would not have been a problem, but Kaiba's back up generators had experienced technical difficulties of their own. In the madness of getting them running, Kaiba had forgotten to set his alarm and overslept by several hours. He had rushed his morning and spent most of it cursing at his staff, refusing to take the blame himself. That itself would have been irksome, but along with it, his limo driver had apparently been injured by a tree falling on his house, and had not bothered to contact the substitute. Kaiba punched a wall and started briskly making his way towards his headquarters, ignoring his maid calling out to him.
When he walked through the doors, he found his personal assistant pacing worriedly, perking up immediately at the sight of his boss.
"Mr. Kaiba, we've managed to stall the CEO of Microsoft, but Mr. Gates will surely be irritated-"
"That's very interesting, but please shut up and get out of my way!" Kaiba stiff armed his meekly underling and stormed into the elevator, sending the occupant fleeing. The doors closed and Kaiba let out a sign of frustration, running his fingers through his hair and straightening his tie. This meeting had been an absolute pain to arrange, and although Bill was nerdy and meager in comparison to Kaiba's lean, built frame, he was still the richest and one of the most powerful man in the world. The elevator seemed to take its time arriving to the top of the building, but that's one of the drawbacks of skyscrapers; they're so damn tall. Kaiba tapped his foot and fidgeted impatiently, glaring angrily at the floor counter. Suddenly, the lights when out and the elevator jerked haphazardly, causing Kaiba's knees to give way from under him. Face pressed against the dirty carpet, Kaiba heard a voice croon over the PA system.
"Power has been lost momentarily, back up generators being powered up as we speak…"
"For Christ's sake!" Screaming while at work contrasted sharply with Kaiba's cold, calculated character, but this was the last straw. The elevator shuddered with electricity, and began descending back towards the lobby. "No, go up, you stupid thing! UP!" No matter what buttons Kaiba pressed, the elevator continued it's journey. The doors opened merrily with a ding! and every fiber of him was fighting against the urge to throw a tantrum, but Kaiba inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly, instead calling his second personal assistant, Mary Anne, who was, hopefully, entertaining Mr. Gates.
"This is Kaiba. What's the situation?" Kaiba had given up on electronics completely for the day and was now running vigorously up the abandoned stair case, and despite his common sense saying this would only take longer than using the elevator, his arrogance had forbidden him from trusting anything but his own two legs.
"Sir, you're not going to like this, but we lost Mr. Gates during the power outage, and I've received email from his secretary that today no longer fits in his schedule."
Kaiba stopped in his tracks and slumped against a wall, punching the wall and leaving a small dent in the cement, and closing his eyes to prevent further physical outrage.
"Did he say when we can reschedule the meeting?"
"Yes, his secretary has confirmed a date, August 11th, at 10am. I've already but it into your planner."
Three months from now. Great. Just great. Kaiba hung up and continued his dismal march up the endless stairs, and despite his exceptional physical condition, he was exhausted by the time he reached the top floor, and marched into his office without a word to anyone, slamming the doors behind him.
Ah, his office. If there was one place where nothing went wrong, one place where he controlled everything, it was his office. Everything was pristine and elegant, with a plasma TV and an amazing computer. His phone rang very rarely, his secretaries taking the bulk of his calls. Only one in a while did his phone make noise, and usually, it was from his younger brother Mokuba, whom Kaiba had instructed to call him when he returned home from school, if only to leave a brief message. There was nothing Kaiba placed above his brother's safety. Despite his icy countenance, Mokuba was the only person who Kaiba really had a personal relationship with. Kaiba had no time for making and keeping up with friends, his career taking up every waking moment of his life.
The phone rang. Puzzled, Kaiba picked up tentatively, his ears immediately deafened by a collaboration of people screaming and hustling about. He recognized his house manager's voice above the rest of the chaos.
"Sir, something terrible has happened! The police have been alerted and a search is already being conducted all about the city, but nothing has been found so far, but-"
"Markus, shut up with the details, what happened?"
"It's Mokuba, sir! When one of our staff walked in to check on him when he didn't come down for breakfast, his window had been broken and he was gone!"
You've got to be fucking me, thought Kaiba in disbelief. This had happened only once or twice before, but never on circumstances like this. He felt his pulse heighten and his face lose color. He quietly discussed the details, and hung up soon. He wiped the sweat off of his hands and turned to look out the wall window of his office, his has-been sanctuary, and scowled deeply. He quickly called one of his helicopters to pick him up from the roof of the building, and he hurried to the pick up zone. Even if the police were helping, Kaiba himself would not rest until he had personally searched every square inch of Domino City, and if necessary, the world.
No one pays attention to alley rats. Someone could be burning alive, screaming in agony, and the rest of the world would just walk on by, ignorant of their suffering. I could not remember being it anything but like this, hidden by shadows of large complexes, living with the dirt and the garbage. If I got lucky, sometimes it would rain, and I'd strip down to bare skin and rub my dry, stained skin with the clean water. I'd hide my only piece of clothing, a giant sweatshirt that had long ago faded into a pale, almost white blue. It used to cover my completely and been more like a tent; my earliest memory was of me peering out of the clothing, watching better dressed, better groomed people walk by. I had never tried to approach them, due to my crippling social anxiety, and they always looked so busy, so driven, I dared not interfere with their important lives. The shirt was still comically large on me, the sleeves drooping off several inches before my thin hands. Unfortunately, I had grown several inches over one spring, and I could never stand up fully, for fear of flashing someone. Then they would notice me, only when I broke one of their rules.
I spent most of my day sleeping along the alley walls, or try to find leftover food in a dumpster towards the back end of the alleyway. I was lucky in that the sweatshirt had a large front pouch, so I could carry some of my most prized possessions. My shining gift was my razor, which had been an extremely lucky find, and also one of my most useful. I had fended off angry cats and even once an intoxicated man, and I had even attempted shaving, but that had gone horribly. But I was stubborn, and although I had gotten better, the rustiness of the razor had given me scars along my legs. I don't know why I kept a false sense of vanity; who was I trying to impress? I had almost broken my jewel in trying to cut my hair, since I had experienced no luck in finding scissors during my trash dives, and since then I had let it do as it pleased. It was a tangled, impossible mess that fell a few inches after my sweatshirt. Sometimes, when I was bored, I would attempt to braid my light blonde mop, but it was stupid of me to try. I had little concept of time, and knew only day and night, hot and cold, sunny and rainy, so I don't really have any idea of how old I was. I often compared myself to those who walked by me, and found myself similar to girls who traveled in large groups in uniforms, often followed by boys in parallel clothing.
I had been sitting against my alley wall, staring into space and thinking of anything, anything, besides the horrible pain in my stomach. Although I was amazed by how much food people threw away, it often made me unpleasantly ill, and I tried to put off eating for as long as I could. I was nearing starvation, but lately, I had lost my drive to even try anymore. I saw no point in my meager existence, and although usually I wasn't so existentialistic, I had been dealing with horrible mood swings and depression recently. A sick desire to fall asleep and not wake up possessed me and I would often curl up and cry softly in my misery. I toyed with my razor absent mindedly and found myself poking it against my twiggy wrists, curious to see if I had enough life in me to bleed. I had never been directly masochistic, although sometimes when I attempted to shave, I would 'accidently' slice myself and let the blood flow until my instincts kicked in and I compressed the wound with my sweatshirt or my hands.
At one end of my alleyway was the main street, but at the other end was a small opening to a dead end with several doors to closed businesses. I heard the noise of a car- extremely unusual, and I turned my head to see. Several men got out of the car quietly, and they opened the trunk cautiously, grabbing a small body- oh my god, it was a kid! They handcuffed him to a door handle on the car and chuckled maliciously. My heart cried out strongly, and I felt a magnetic urge towards the child, and although he was not moving, I knew he was alive. Nobody ever took so much care over a dead body. The men talked quietly and entered a dilapidated door, leaving the boy alone. I crawled slowly towards the end of the alley, adrenaline racing. As I reached the end of the alleyway, I held my breath. I had never left my shelter between the two brick walls, but I the kids head moved to the side and he scowled slightly, his eyes twitching. I scampered out into the open, and once I reached his handcuffs, I realized I had nothing to free him with. I searched nervously around my pouch for something small and thin. I began to panic as I had nothing on me except for my razor. I bit my lip as I struggled to remove one of the blades. My fingers protested loudly with blood and pain, but I continued my work until I finally pried it free. Using my clean hand, I wiggled the blade around in the small hole. It eventually clicked, and the child was free.
The door opened. I could hear the men pour out and I knew I had two choices: fight or flight. I quickly ruled out fight, and pressed the boy against my chest and crawled away. I barely made it behind the dumpster as I heard yells of astonishment and guns being cocked. They muttered hurriedly, and I heard plans for sweeping the area, and he couldn't have gotten far. I heard footsteps coming down the alley and I shielded the child with my body, hoping, praying, that maybe, just like everyone else, they would pass me by.
The noise of gunfire was deafening, and a swirl of pain spread from my leg and spiraled up my chest, causing me to scream, and I felt the child struggle against my grip. Maybe it was my heroic will, but I held him tightly against me, desperate that maybe, if I could save him, I would have amounted to something…
Voices. Darkness. The child yelling, screaming, "Seto! Seto! Brother!" I faded away quickly, and I smiled.