Hilariously, Kaiba was lost in his own town.
He was sure that a lesser man than him would've found it funny, anyway. But he, no, he was not particularly amused. Being the model student that he was, he had stayed late at school to finish his modest mountain of homework before deciding to head home for better projects. Now he thought, with increasing defeatism, he should've just stayed at school. Or maybe gotten a ride home. Walking had seemed like such a good idea; he could maybe clear his mind, relax a little - everyone at home kept commenting on how he looked "stressed". He often thought "yes, that is because I am stressed…".
When he'd left, it had definitely been light. Now the sun had vanished somewhere behind some skyscraper, and he was left stranded below a deep blue canvas that was blackened at the edges with the dirt of the city. An unearthly orange halo sickened the sky, the murk of light pollution from streetlights. It all made him feel so ill. He sought relief of a different kind than the carnal nightlife that this city offered. He just wanted to compute and mechanise… and get out of the cold. But he was wandering down a back alley in who knew what part of town.
He tugged at the lapels of his blazer so that he could settle better into its warmth. It was near summer, but the chill of nighttime had long since swept in and crept beneath his collar, up his sleeves. As he felt goosepimples race up the length of his forearms, he frowned. The alley he was creeping through kept getting narrower, the tower blocks walling him in kept getting taller, and he was competing for space with dumpsters and trashcans.
And then something unexpected came into view.
Kaiba recognised him instantly even from a distance; it was his hair. Blond. Now matted with what looked like it might have been blood. Jounouchi was sitting - perhaps this was generous, he was more in a kind of heap -, slumped against the red brick wall. His head was inclined, lolling as though he were asleep, so Kaiba couldn't see his face even as he found the will to move closer. He could've turned, and he could've left, and Jounouchi probably wouldn't have noticed… but, Kaiba realised as he got nearer, Jounouchi was in a bad state. And probably if he didn't help out, he could be implicated later.
This cold, calculating logic died as soon as Jounouchi stirred, then turned his head to gaze up at him. In fact he was gazing slightly past him, as far as Kaiba could tell. One of his eyes was a little defiant sliver, surrounded by a mush of battered purple flesh. A cut traced the length of his cheekbone, dark with drying blood. His now crooked nose sported a raw red graze where the flesh had been worn away as though his face had been slammed against a wall, and from the state of him, Kaiba could guess that that wasn't even the half of what had happened. His nose was also spurting blood. A lot of blood. A disturbingly large volume of blood. His front was covered in an enormous red stain that looked rather like one of those Rorschach ink blots. Kaiba thought it looked like a butterfly.
"Whad de fug are you loogin' ad?"
"I'm looking at you. You look awful."
"Yeah danks, you fuggin' genius, I god dat figured oud already," Jounouchi snapped; he was obviously angry, but there was something very entertaining about the fact that he couldn't, well, speak.
"You should go to the hospital."
"Maybe I dode wadda."
"Well, maybe you should 'wadda', unless you want to bleed to death in a filthy little alleyway surrounded by trash. It'd be a fitting end, don't get me wrong, but… well, I pity you, Jounouchi."
He had never particularly liked Jounouchi. It was understandable. Kaiba was a loner, more interested in - or perhaps just less afraid of - his textbooks than interacting with anyone, and Jounouchi had friends. Girls liked him. He smiled a lot. And he was an insufferable, egotistical bastard. Jounouchi's sentiments towards him were similar. He envied the fact that Kaiba had what was essentially an infinite sum of money, that he could have whatever he wanted, and it infuriated him that he always seemed to think that he knew everything. Like right now.
"I swear do god, if I could mobe, I would be fuggin you up so bad righd now."
Against his better judgment, Kaiba stepped forward. He held out his hand, though he was reluctant to dirty it with blood and grime. He needn't have been; Jounouchi was obviously too much of a man to accept help from anybody, so he struggled to his feet by himself, looking much like he was having some sort of seizure. Kaiba watched, not guilty for feeling the tiniest bit amused. Jounouchi stood, or rather stooped, leaning against the wall, panting raggedly.
"I thought you couldn't move?"
"I dode need your helb."
"Fair enough," Kaiba said, and stuck his hand back in his pocket, "so you're going to go to the hospital now?"
"Yeah."
"Lead the way, then."
"Whad? Oh do, rish boy, you're nod comin' wid me," Jounouchi snarled, through a thick mouthful of clotted blood.
"Somebody has to make sure that you don't die on the way there, don't they?" Besides, he added mentally, I know my way home from the hospital.
"Nod godda die," Jounouchi said, and then he pushed off from the wall, then staggered, almost into Kaiba's arms.
Almost.
"Dode fuggin' touch me."
"Believe that I have no desire to," Kaiba sneered, and then followed Jounouchi as he lurched - with purpose - through the nighttime alleys.
They were both striding with their chins held high, which was a challenge for Jounouchi as thick blood kept oozing down the back of his throat. Every once in a while he would make a horrific hacking sound, and then gulp repeatedly, trying to swallow down the stringy mess of whatever the hell it was that was congealing at the back of his nose.
"Could you possibly not do that?"
"Oh, I'de sorry, does id bodder you? You're sush a priss."
Kaiba shook his head in exasperation, rolling his eyes.
"What happened to you anyways?"
"I dode wadda talk aboud id," Jounouchi snarled over his shoulder.
"Alright. I don't care very much, anyway."
Then there was a splattering sound. Jounouchi had forcibly expelled a fresh spurt of lumpy fluid from his nose, and it dashed against the pavement.
"That is seriously disgusting, Jounouchi," Kaiba snapped, and Jounouchi turned to face him, laughing thickly. "It's not funny, either. You're gushing blood everywhere. It's an arterial bleed, I think. … That means it's bad."
"I know whad a fuggin' arderial bleed is, you basdard."
"Then you should understand the seriousness of this situation, and maybe hurry your stupid ass to the hospital."
Instead of twisting in fury, Jounouchi's mangled face split into a wide grin.
"Alride den, asshole, we're nearly dere."
