Otogi doesn't wait for approval before throwing open the doors to his business partner's office and storming into the room. He briefly fixes the lapels on his tie, brushes his hands down his jacket and vest, and adjusts the slight bunch in his slacks, yet his eyes never leave the sight before him. What one would typically see from a CEO of a billion-dollar company is a serious man, dressed to a T, sitting in a tall chair before a large desk. There would be stacks of paper nearby, a desktop computer or laptop, and possibly even an assistant hovering conveniently within reach, awaiting orders from their superiors. This would be a normal view. No, what Otogi sees is a young man, feet kicked up on the desk, papers on the floor. The man is dressed immaculately in a red suit, but the glass of wine held languidly in his hand throws off the mature look. It is Henri-Jayer Cros Parantoux, a beautiful, opulent wine – and it is currently being drunk like it is cranberry juice.
"'S not break," Otogi admonishes, kicking the other man's feet off the desk and instead sitting on it. He reaches for the wine, but is shooed away by a hand.
"I can drink even when I'm not on break, Otogi-boy," Pegasus sniffs.
"Like hell you can," Otogi mutters, but Pegasus doesn't seem to hear him.
The awkward mish-mash of a relationship that Pegasus and Otogi share is partly mutual understanding of the other's quirks and habits and party because they are both strong businessmen who just happened to meet. The two of them have been business partners for two years, when Otogi's father pressured him to get a job and start marketing games. Otogi travelled thousands of kilometres overseas to the United States to receive a job at Industrial Illusions. His new American job, in turn, allowed his father to receive more shipments of games and have a say in what his store, the Black Crown and a well-known distributor of Industrial Illusions, marketed. Otogi had been unsure of the business deal at first, since Pegasus was a rather exuberant man whose words could be taken many ways, yet the partnership between the Black Crown and Industrial Illusions was successful. Otogi was now an eminent young man at the prime age of eighteen, with a bank account loaded with money.
For now, life is fairly well. Otogi stuffs his hands into his pants' pockets and stares at Pegasus. "So… are we going to work on those new cards?"
"New cards?" Pegasus says. He bends down and begins rifling through his desk drawers. Instead of files and folders for business reports, insurances and all sorts of bills, there are stacks upon stacks of Funny Bunny VHS'. Pegasus pulls one up and inspects it with a careful eye, still holding his glass of wine. "I've seen this one dozens of times, but it never gets old." He sighs gustily.
Some days, Otogi feels like severing Pegasus' head from his shoulders. Instead, he keeps his hands in his pockets and says, "We need to work on those new Magic and Wizards cards, though. They're to be mass-marketed in less than a month."
"Have some other artist do it. Don't people want to see different forms of art?"
"Yes," Otogi growls, "but they want the specs to be the same and they want it to be by Industrial Illusions. Therefore, we ought to go down there and start painting."
"Someone else can do it, Otogi-boy," Pegasus replies. He checks the time on his computer and smiles. "Ooh, look at that! I'm on my break." He gives Otogi a saccharine smile as he rises from his seat. "I promised Cyndia I'd take her out today. Best not keep the lady waiting." And before Otogi can call him back, Pegasus is strutting animatedly across the room and exiting with a quick wave goodbye. Otogi can do nothing but sigh. The man is incredibly impulsive and stubborn in his own flamboyant way; you hardly realize that you're being told no or dissed, for his nonchalant mannerisms make it difficult to feel the barbs and thorns behind the words. Were it not for his father's constant pressure to remain with Pegasus, Otogi would've probably gone to a college and earned a proper degree. Today, he has no degree, yet his knowledge of business and finance make him the third most wealthy businessman in the gaming industry, the first two being Pegasus J. Crawford and Kaiba Seto.
With another sigh, Otogi heaves himself off his partner's desk and heads back to the elevator. His break starts in twenty minutes, but he understands that he ought to check the status of the new cards in the Development Sector. Heaven knows if there's chaos down there…
Pegasus throws his wine into an empty pot as he spots his fiancée. He could've had any woman in the world, yet there is something precious about Cyndia that made him fall for her. He'd met her at a dinner party his father was hosting as a child. Like him, she is the successful by-product of an arranged, lavish marriage between two rich people, yet her wealth or status never corrupted her kind personality. Perhaps that was what he was attracted to in her: no matter how far he went, no matter what he did, he could never upset her. She liked his childish mind.
Catching his eye, Cyndia smiles shyly and bows her head slightly to him. Her blonde hair is done in a quick up-do, with a few strands framing her tender face. As Pegasus approaches, he notices that she is wearing her new dress that he'd bought for her, and his face lights up. The rich blue empire dress is tall, draping beautifully without touching her hips or legs. She turns to the side to show it off.
"It looks simply gorgeous on you," he says, coming up to brush her hair behind her ears and kiss her tenderly. His hand comes down to rest on her shoulder, feeling the bones underneath. Cyndia has always been frail, but these past few weeks have left her weak and often sick. Lately she has spent most of her time in her room, too tired to leave. She always seems to be ailing from some sickness, be it the flu or a cold. She brushes it off to her low immune system and lack of sleep from their "activities", yet Pegasus suspects that it is something else.
"How is work today?" she asks, taking his hand and leading him to their seat. Her hand feels cold and shakes slightly in his.
"Always a game," he responds. "Otogi-boy says I need to be more serious, but when is there ever a time to be serious when we'll be unveiling the newest addition to our Magic and Wizards Cards collection: spirits, demons, and deities from mythologies around the world. The research and time Otogi-boy and I have put into this is astounding – and for such a great profit! As the top gaming company in the world, I think we ought to be proud of ourselves." He squeezes her hand. "Doesn't that sound marvelous, my dear?"
"Oh, yes," Cyndia chimes in. "You and Otogi certainly are the best businessmen I've ever met. I've never seen such casual CEOs before."
"You base your opinions too much on Kaiba-boy," Pegasus jokes. "He needs to let loose more often."
"Then you should invite him over some time. Maybe a vacation to the US will do him good. Don't the Japanese work dutifully and not take breaks? He should come out here and experience some western culture." She smiles happily as she takes a seat next to him. Suddenly, she frowns, touching her hand to her chest.
"Something wrong?" Pegasus says offhandedly, eyes trained on the menu in front of him. He peeks over it. "Cyndia?"
"Nothing," she says quickly, hand still at her chest. "Just a slight pain, nothing to worry over. I'm sure I'm just recovering from a cold." She gives him another bright smile. Pegasus does not buy it. He knows that she is in pain and that she is not better. She hasn't been better for a month – always something wrong, in pain, or not working. He's asked her every day if she wants to go see a doctor, but she always denies feeling sick enough to need prescription medicine. Pegasus has discussed the topic of his fiancée's health with Otogi, but his partner always says that women are stubborn and that she is probably just unable to recover from a difficult bug. He suggested cleaning the house frequently and offering her more fruits and vegetables at meals to boost her vitamin and mineral levels.
But little has happened. She's lost more weight, becoming paler and shakier. Now, as she sits before him with her shawl wrapped tight around her thin shoulders slightly bruised underneath her long dress, Pegasus wonders what to do. With her illness increasing as his mass-marketing of Magic and Wizards cards approaches, the stress becomes a factor in his normally calm life. If Cyndia is not worried, should he be? After all, she should know if she is truly sick.
Pegasus brushes it off and resumes looking at his menu. He inspects the different varieties of wine and appetizers that he and Cyndia will be sharing; however, one eyes remains peering over the menu to watch her. Isn't it always best to err on the side of caution?
Pegasus will forever remember those words with a heavy heart. For the next week, he suffers as he watches Cyndia crawl back to bed, holding her head, throat, and stomach at the same time. Whatever she eats is vomited back up in an hour. Her throat has become too sore for anything except water, which Cyndia only drinks in sparse amounts. She runs a fever, coughs, and shivers in her bed sheets, all the while watching him with round blue eyes. Pegasus frets.
Eventually, his opinion wins out, and he takes Cyndia to the hospital. He holds her, not just her hand, in the waiting room, and she leans against him, too tired to sit up. There are dark bags under her once sparkling eyes, which match random bruises covering her body. The dress she wears – a suave red number that he'd bought her for her birthday – hangs limply off her. Even her hair, always coiffed, has lost its shine and curl. Yet she smiles tiredly at him and says that things will be fine.
They aren't. The doctor says that he cannot confirm Cyndia's illness, but he suggests that she remain at the hospital. He wants her to see an oncologist, as well as perform various x-rays and scans to see what is occurring inside her. Those words make him swallow. Surely Cyndia can't have cancer? She is healthy, eats all of her vegetables, and has no history of terminal illnesses in her family. Her symptoms had occurred so suddenly, so how could such a deadly disease manifest in the period of weeks?
Cyndia is kept in the critical care ward of the hospital until the oncologist sees her. He pokes and prods her, notes the bruising and general tiredness of her, and then schedules her for a bone marrow biopsy.
"I can't confirm anything until I perform some tests," he says, "but I'd say that if this is cancer, she is suffering from leukaemia."
Pegasus cries that night. He is too afraid to touch Cyndia, for fear that he will only hurt her. She just says that they can't jump to conclusions – but how can he not? Leukaemia is fatal is left untreated. The chances of her survival diminish each day, and both of them are still sitting in the critical care ward, waiting for a bone marrow biopsy. Each tick of the clock makes Pegasus' skin crawl, for it's one second more than Cyndia's condition worsens and one more second that they are losing. Mayhap it would have been better to assume that she was ailing from something and take her to the doctor right away, instead of brushing it off as a minor consequence and focus on his damn company.
In anger, Pegasus throws his cell phone at the ground. When the loud crash makes Cyndia shift in her sleep, groaning, Pegasus quickly picks it up and hurries out. His hands are shaking; he can barely control himself. He wrings his hands through his long hair. He's become more dishevelled each day. Wrinkles decorate his designer red suit like they are a fashion statement in their own, and his black shoes are smudged with dust from pacing the hospital hallways. Dark bags and an ashen face is his sort of makeup lately. He hasn't slept in days. He hasn't gone to work in a week.
Before he can even understand what he is doing, he dials Otogi's number and lifts the phone to his ear. It's late at night, so he doubts that Otogi will even pick up. He doesn't. Pegasus tries again. By this point, he is praying under his breath, crossing his fingers, doing anything in the hopes that Otogi will pick up.
He does. "You are a sick man, Pegasus, if –"
"Otogi," Pegasus says. Otogi stops speaking. Pegasus has never called him 'Otogi'. He's always called him 'Otogi-boy' or 'Buddy' or 'Partner'. Never just Otogi.
"Pegasus… what's wrong?"
"C-Cyndia is… She's… Oh, Otogi, she's sick!"
Otogi quickly replies: "What's wrong? W-where are you? I… I thought you were off doing God knows what – I don't know, taking a vacation in Hawaii or something. A-are you at the hospital or something? Do you need me to come out there?"
"I'm at the hospital," Pegasus replies in a small voice. "Please come and get me. Please."
"I'll be right there. Hang on, OK?"
"OK." There is a note of pain in his words.
Otogi hangs up. Exhausted, Pegasus slumps against the wall, burying the heel of his hand into his eye to stop himself from crying. He manages to smother his whimpers, but the thick tears continue to roll down his cheeks and stain his suit. He drowns out everything – the noise of the cars on the highway, the sound of an ambulance pulling into the emergency entrance, the sound of footsteps. There's no point in listening anymore. He doesn't want to listen. The words the doctor will say will not be good in any way. The words Otogi says won't heal the deep cut in his heart at seeing his fiancée, who he'll be marrying soon, lying on bed sheets as white as her. No, nothing will fix this.
He gives up and lets himself cry. He is one of the richest men in the world and he is crying at the front entrance of the UCSF Medical Center. That ought to be a sight for the front page of a newspaper, yet Pegasus doesn't care. He doesn't even bother to hide himself behind a tree or shrub; he leans against the wall and sobs as loud as he can, feeling as though someone is taking a knife and stabbing him in the heart.
And then he is being hugged. He hadn't heard any footsteps, yet he has been crying too noisily to hear anyone. He lets the arms wrap around him, leaning into the touch and burying his face into the other's shoulders. Otogi's bare arms are cold and polka-dotted with goosebumps, though he never pulls away to warm himself up.
When Pegasus pulls away, wiping his eyes and nose with the kerchief in his pocket, he sees that Otogi, too, is crying. The other man isn't wearing any makeup and his hair isn't tied in a ponytail. He looks like an entirely different person. Sniffling, Otogi runs his hand under his nose. "Good thing there's no traffic this late," he begins with an awkward shrug and an even more awkward smile.
"Yeah…" Pegasus replies. He doesn't meet Otogi's eye. Finally, he sighs and says, "Cyndia may have cancer… Leukaemia… Tests are coming soon." Each phrase is said in a detached, robotic voice, as though he were commenting on the mechanics of a machine. It's too analytical for a man who's built his life on making trading cards and watching cartoons. There's none of Pegasus' spark or charm in his words.
Otogi doesn't say anything for a long time. He seems conflicted between embracing Pegasus for a second time and bursting into tears on the spot. "I… I didn't know," he manages to say. "I-I'm so sorry."
"'S fine," Pegasus says roughly. "The tests aren't confirmed yet, and maybe it's some other kind of treatable disease that'll just need a bunch of antibiotics. Or maybe it's something minor, like something inside of her is malfunctioning and she doesn't really need it – like her gall bladder, because you don't need one of those, I think – and they can just take it out of her, and then everything will be all better, and I can go back to work, and we can get married, and –" He sobs loudly into his hands. "Dash it all, Otogi, she's not going to get better and I know it!"
The two men cry together that night on the steps of one of the best cancer treatment hospitals in the United States. Were it anything else but chronic leukaemia, she probably could've survived. Pegasus has the money to give her enough treatment, but he's just throwing cash towards a cause that will never work. It's too late to do anything now. If he'd accepted the signs and symptoms before and pressured her, she'd probably be sitting in the same hospital bed, vomiting her guts up but telling him that she will get better, that she will leave the hospital and that, once she goes into remission, that they will get married. They will have a future and children and play lots of games and watch cartoons late at night, cuddling together without the fear of making bruises. They will eat whatever they want and take lots of trips, for there are thousands of sights to see if one has the passion to go out and see them in the first place.
They would do anything.
The next day, Pegasus sits by where his fiancée's bed would be, were she not wheeled down for her biopsy. Otogi sits on the floor, face smeared with tears and sleeping fitfully in the corner. After they had met up on the stairs and talked, Pegasus had brought Otogi inside and asked him to stay with him until the morning. He doesn't care if he says he's scared. He thinks it's valid to be scared. He's surprised Cyndia isn't: she smiled when she left that morning and told him that he should get some rest. The bags under his eyes aren't nearly as impressive as her own.
Shifting slightly in his seat, Pegasus reaches up and brushes his hair in front of his eyes. He wants to hide in shame and fear for being such a coward. He's contradicting himself at every turn. One minute he's thinking of running down and bursting into the biopsy room to tell them that he's taking Cyndia home, and the next minute he's wondering if he can hang himself with an IV cord. He and Otogi should both be at work right now. Their money is dwindling away with each missed day at work, each day that they don't work on their new project, each day that they give their money to this hospital that will never make Cyndia better. It's all hopeless. It's all for naught.
When Otogi does wake up, there's no discussion of plans. They don't talk about work, or Cyndia, or their lives. They don't talk about anything. Otogi runs his fingers through his hair and scrubs his eyes, frowning slightly. Pegasus shifts in his chair and wonders whether he should cross his left leg over his right or his right leg over his left. They both try to avoid the elephant in the room – the large, impossibly huge elephant of death and debt. Because if they do not do anything, they will witness both.
Cyndia is diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia two days after the bone marrow biopsy, which is swiftly followed by a bone marrow aspiration. Her condition is critical, fatal, and un-remediable. The doctors suggest that there are several things they can do to make her final days comfortable, and Pegasus deposits every last penny he can into making her happy. He brings her gifts, does her hair, paints her nails for her. He asks the doctors to bring in a TV with a VCR so that they can watch Funny Bunny videos until the wee hours of the morning. Otogi stays close by, watching as the most ostentatious man he has ever met is reduced to an inconsolable wreckon his knees before his wraith-like betrothed. He, too, deposits every last penny in his wallet to make Pegasus happy because, damn, he likes his business partner and he can't pass another day watching this sick tragedy continue. He likes comedies, where the awful situations take a turn for the better.
Why does such a thing have to occur to such a happy man?
To make matters worse, their new project is put on hold because of the lack of funding. How that happened, neither man is sure, but soon they are calling loan sharks from the cancer ward. Most refuse men who don't have any money in the first place – even if they are CEOs of the top game-designing company in the world – and others refuse them because of their price.
They need two million dollars. No legal loan shark in the city will give two businessmen such money, even if they are CEOs of Industrial Illusions. No legal loan shark has that much money to give. So Otogi has to resort to more felonious people: the yamikinyu, or illegal moneylenders. The one he finds happens to be a young man like himself who runs a private loaning company called 'GHOUL'. Otogi doesn't like the suave voice on the other end of conversation, but he keeps his thoughts to himself as he reclines in his chair. He needs two million, though, and this man is the only one who might even be in the running for giving him that much.
To their surprise, the man, named Mariku, says, "Sure. I can get the money to you right away."
"I-I don't have time to meet," Otogi says, stumbling over his words. He and Pegasus haven't left Cyndia's side except to eat, pee, or go to get a change of clothes. The hospital staff have been extremely patient.
On the other end of the line, Mariku has said nothing. This man is calm yet insane; he is the quiet tempest at the bottom of the ocean, like a dark hole that swallows someone up without a sound. Death is far deadlier when it is silent.
"I want you to transfer the money into my account right away," Otogi finally says.
"No please?" the man teases. When none is forthcoming, he continues: "Fine. The money will be transferred in five minutes." He pauses and there is a grating sound. "My rate is fifty percent in ten days. No exceptions."
"Fine," says Otogi in a small voice. "Have a nice day, sir."
"I certainly will." The line ends. Otogi sighs, swallows, and clenches his hand. He turns to Pegasus, who has just come back from the bathroom and looks as pale as his wife sleeping in the bed. His white hair his limp, his face ashen, and he stumbles with all the grace of a zombie. Cyndia's diagnosis has affected him as much as it has affected her: they are both suffering from this in their own way.
"Who was that?" Pegasus mumbles as he takes a seat by Cyndia's bedside. She is lucid from the various drugs in her system, so even if she was awake to hear Otogi's phone conversation with the loan shark, she probably has little understanding of what he'd said.
"Loan shark," says Otogi.
Pegasus trails his fingers down Cyndia's cheek, ending at her jaw. There is a steady dribble of blood leaking from Cyndia's nose and Pegasus wipes it away with his kerchief. "You found one?" He sounds disconsolate.
"Yeah," Otogi says. He pauses before he says, "He's giving us two million right now. We'll be able to launch the project."
Even though Pegasus isn't looking at him and probably isn't in his right mind, he doesn't miss a beat when he says, "What's the interest rate?"
Otogi swallows. "Fifty percent in ten days –"
"Fifty percent!" Pegasus shrieks. He lifts his head up, eyes wild. Cyndia squirms in his touch, but Pegasus is unaware. "Otogi, we don't have that sort of money! The guy's probably a fraud and stealing from our account right now. I… I know that he's the only loan shark willing to give us that much cash in such a short time, but we don't know if we can actually pay that back."
"We'll get the money back!" Otogi returns. "Have some faith! We're CEOs of the largest manufacture of games, not gaming software, but games. We receive money from gaming companies like Kaiba Corp who only produce software for our games. We're not going to lose money on one of the biggest deals ever. Every trading card company in the world knows we're releasing the most anticipated booster pack of Magic and Wizards yet, so there's no doubt that we'll get the money. We'll be rich again in a couple days, and then we can pay off the loan shark and bask in the glow of eternal fortune." He takes a deep breath. "I know things aren't so good right now, and they never will be, but there are some things that are going to be right. Our company, Industrial Illusions, will survive."
"And how?" Pegasus cries. "We are broke, Otogi. His money needs to be returned in full, with fifty percent interest! How can you agree to something like that?"
"I have a plan! Here!" Suddenly Otogi is striding across the room and pulling out his briefcase. He's visited their company once since Cyndia's admission to UCSF and during that time he brought home – because home is now the hospital – their briefcases. Neither men have touched them since then, but they are there in case the energy to work ever returns. Otogi pulls out a thick folder overflowing with scribbled notes, calendars, diagrams, and graphs, and shoves it in Pegasus' chest. "Read it."
Pegasus does. He flips through the papers, eyes widening and narrowing at each drawing. There are hundreds of designs for little figures and multiple game boards are sketched in pencil. "A… new game?" Pegasus says.
"A new game," Otogi repeats. "I've been working on this for years. Magic and Wizards is your legacy; this is mine." He leans forward and flips to the first page to point at a large heading in uppercase letters. "Dungeons, Dice, and Dragons," he reads aloud. "D. D. D., for short. It's a strategy-based dice game, where you move your figurine here and hit the opponent's heart points. See here? Three hearts. If you lose all three, you die. And of course, the game is much more complex than that: different sides of the die represent different things, and you keep these dice in your bank for later use. Also, the pathways for each figurine, or monster, vary."
For the first time in two weeks, Otogi sounds alive. He's enthusiastic and a true businessman as he describes D. D. D. to his partner. This is his baby, who he's nursed since he was a teenager and living under the roof of his father in the Black Crown game shop. Father always said that he was brilliant, but Otogi had never thought he could market this game when the spotlight had always been on Pegasus'. Now is his chance to step into the limelight, in a time where Pegasus could never need more help. He could be the modern-day Joan of Arc.
"… This surely is a lot," Pegasus ultimately says. "You've done a lot for this."
"We wouldn't need any extra time to help. I could go over right now and hand this over to Development. They'll market this, sell it like candy. We can bust all our money or mass-producing this and advertise it as the newest masterpiece by Industrial Illusions. I'm sure we can do it. Please, Pegasus, we don't have anything else. Trust me." He thinks about holding out his hand, twisting this vile tragedy into a comedy, but holds back for all the corniness in the world.
The pregnant pause between them is only disrupted by Cyndia's gentle gasps as she struggles for each breath. They don't have much time until death or debt occur. Both should never have happened, but one can certainly be prevented.
"Fine," Pegasus says. He meets Otogi's eye and holds his gaze. "Let's do this."
Industrial Illusions bustles like Santa's workshop at creating five hundred unique dice for D. D. D. They work on designing quality game boards even though there is no time for such precision. The new format of dice are stylistically painted as Otogi's sketches portray, with different colours for different monster types. The symbols on the dice, called crests, represent the different actions a player may take during his turn if he rolls the specific crest: there are summon, go forward, magic, attack, defence, and trap crests. His rules are so complex that Otogi soon spends his time in the waiting room, cell phone up against his ear, talking to the workers in Development sector as they struggle to meet the deadline for D. D. D.'s launch. Soon, Otogi's legacy blooms into a prodigy of a game, superior to all others. It combines two recently antique games, Monster World and Capsule Monsters Chess, in a rigorous tabletop strategy game with a new goal: deplete the heart points. Otogi has no fear that it will be a success.
At the hospital, the results are less than satisfactory. Cyndia develops pneumonia, which leaves her unable to eat or drink. She is administered a nutrient solution along with the strong antibiotics via an IV. Nothing seems to help her. Pegasus' heart is torn to bits at seeing his wife struggle for each breath. In a way, it would be better if she died weeks ago, when they could both move on and think that she was never in pain. The pain she's in now is almost unbearable.
Some days there is a high in the air as Otogi tells Pegasus that D. D. D. is developing smoothly and they are in the final stages of producing and marketing. In the hospital bedroom, Otogi switches on the TV to display a bright commercial depicting two monsters fighting. When one, a large, battle-clad warrior called God Ogre, wins, it stomps across a tiled path to slice at a large heart emblazoned into a blue pillar. The words 'Red Team Wins' appear on the screen.
"That's D. D. D.?" Pegasus says. He doesn't say it rudely; he is awestruck.
"Yes." Otogi smiles. He turns to look at Cyndia, who is watching the screen even though she can barely keep her eyes open. Malignancy continues each day, yet the woman is surprisingly brave. She cries when they poke her with needles and she is sometimes afraid of the information, but she is human and neither man can criticize her for being scared about death.
At least she can communicate, albeit weakly. "That looks splendid," is what she says about Otogi's new game. He beams at her praise.
… And that is the last time Otogi smiled. That night, Cyndia's liver began to fail. The cancer has spread, having already infected kidneys. It would soon develop in her lungs, which were already infected with the seemingly-chronic pneumonia. No amount of chemotherapy would be able to help her now, so she was pumped with antibiotics and analgesics and moved to hospice, where she would receive the best care for her comfort, not her survival. It was both consoling and disheartening for Pegasus.
"I'm sorry," the doctor says. "There's not treatment to help her. What she needs right now is for you to be with her. Spend as much time with her as you can. That's what she wants and needs."
Otogi visits Pegasus and Cyndia in the hospital that night. Cyndia is propped up in bed, with a non-invasive ventilator sitting nearby; the mask over her face brings fresh air to her lungs. Sensors pads are attached to her chest and lead to an electrocardiogram. Her translucent skin is stuck with various needles, yet she smiles kindly at him. She is awake for now.
"Your hair looks nice today," Otogi says in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. It's true, though. Her blonde hair sparkles under the artificial lighting of the hospital room.
"They washed it," Pegasus replies from his permanent spot at her bedside. "Also, the loan shark called here. Says he's coming by soon to discuss some things… I guess it's a good idea you arrived."
They hear Cyndia gasp for breath and both jump. They look at her worriedly and she blushes. "Thank you, Otogi," she whispers hoarsely. Her voice is nearly gone, yet she attempts conversation with a gentle smile. She raises one pale hand to touch her hair. Chemotherapy would have killed it, yet even the strong antibiotics and analgesics administered to her via her IV are not that bad; these medications are to help keep her comfortable during her final days.
Otogi shakes himself out of his reverie as he processes Pegasus' words. "Mariku's coming?"
"Yeah… said he'd be here in a few minutes."
Otogi pauses. "How does he know where we are?"
Pegasus shrugs. "Said you told him."
"I didn't."
This is followed by a gusty sigh from Pegasus. "Well I don't know how he knows where we are. I haven't watched the news, so maybe everyone knows that Pegasus and his partner are cooped up in hospice and avoiding work." His voice cracks. "I don't care how he knows. I just want this business deal done."
"Do we just write him a cheque? D. D. D. will be launched tomorrow – we don't have his money yet."
"… Sure."
"Pegasus?" Cyndia whispers softly. She attempts to lean forward on the bed, but the various monitors attached to her prevent her from moving even an inch. She frowns and settles down uncomfortably on the bed. "Pegasus?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Who…" She coughs hoarsely into her hands. "Who's coming to visit?"
Pegasus shivers at the raw sound coming from her lips. The pneumonia has destroyed her lungs. It is only a matter of time until she will be unable to breathe without an endotracheal tube, which would require sedation.
"Just the loan shark, dear. He doesn't have to come into this room, if you wish it. I can meet him out in the lobby or waiting room and finish the business deal there… or Otogi can go out and do that –"
"Pegasus, I'm fine. I… I'd like to meet this young man." She pauses to take a breath. "I just hope I can s-stay awake."
They both take her hand and nod slowly. Otogi hovers by her bedside, wondering what he can do to ease either of their pain. He settles for excusing himself from the room and heading down the hall. He will meet Mariku at the door and show him to their room. Otogi thinks that Pegasus ought to be present when he and Mariku complete the transaction. It's not that he is scared of the man – even though he has never met the guy, gave him all his banking information, and oh did the other man sound so slimy – but Otogi prefers having Pegasus, his long-time business partner, there to offer him advice. This is the biggest deal he will ever be making. Tomorrow, D. D. D. will be launched worldwide as the newest spectacle by the top gaming company Industrial Illusions. The game is a revolutionary table-top. Soon it will be stocked on every shelf for Christmas, in every child's home and the family favourite, and in the future will appear on museum shelves as a classic.
Otogi beams at his success. He refuses to sit down in the hospital's main lobby, instead pacing around like a caged animal. He misses Pegasus already; his only company these past two weeks has been Pegasus and his fiancée. He hasn't called any of his other friends in weeks – he hasn't even gone out in over a month! His life has revolved around work and Pegasus, and lately around Cyndia's failing health.
Mariku, where are you? he wonders.
After what seems like an eternity of sick people entering, Otogi finally spots someone that could be Mariku. The man is tall with wild blond hair arranged in spikes on his head. His bangs dust the top of a pair of violet eyes which squint in the sunlight. Though the United States is a multicultural country, Otogi had never expected Mariku to be middle-eastern. The loan shark looks around, then spots Otogi and smiles. It's not very friendly.
"Ryuuji Otogi?" the man says, looking down at a piece of paper in his hand.
"Yes. Are you Mariku?"
"I am." The man smiles lecherously again. Otogi shivers.
"Please follow me, sir. I'd like you to meet the CEO of Industrial Illusions and my business partner, Pegasus J. Crawford. He's just upstairs with his wife."
Mariku follows him without a word. Otogi turns and quickly leads Mariku to the elevator. As they wait, Otogi drums his fingers on the side. Well… this is awkward. What should he say to a yamikinyu? Illegal moneylending isn't a topic discussed over tea per say, yet there is nothing else Otogi can think of to ask the guy? What do you say to a criminal? 'Hello, how's the business going? Lots of clients?' Certainly a hospital is not the sort of place to ask such a question.
Eventually, the elevator doors open and both men step in. Otogi presses the floor number and leans back against the wall. He is just about to close his eyes and ask, 'How is your day today?' when he feels something press against his side. "Wha–" he begins, but promptly closes his mouth when he notices the ornate knife in the other man's hand. The blade is rather simple – though very, very sharp – yet it is the handle that amazes Otogi: a large golden ball with two wings on both sides and the Eye of Wdjat in the centre.
"Can you give me the money now?" he asks in a calm, silky voice. "Please?"
Otogi shivers. "I d-don't have my check-k-book on me. It's in…" He swallows hard as the knife rises up to rest against his neck. "My bag. It's in my bag, which is in the hospital room."
Mariku remains silent. He presses the knife a bit harder into Otogi's neck, nicking it lightly. It doesn't hurt, for Otogi is used to cutting the same area when he shaves, yet the idea of this creepily relaxed man holding a knife to him is frightening. "All right," he drawls, flicking the knife back and forth in his large hands. "We'll go see your friends, then. Doesn't that sound nice?"
"Yes, yes it does," Otogi nearly squeaks. This is no time to be brave: Mariku is a criminal who will kill them if they don't give him his cheque.
When the elevator doors open, Otogi exits quickly. Mariku continues to play with the knife in his hand, occasionally flicking it against Otogi's side and laughing. The man is a manic. The whole walk down Mariku hums to himself, a catchy tune that only he seems to hear. In fact, there seems to be no one else around. Otogi looks into some of the hospital rooms, but either the blinds are shut or the room is dark. Just as he is processing this thought, Mariku leans in close and whispers, "We are all alone. The darkness is with us. Isn't it quaint?"
"Where did everyone go?" Otogi asks, once he has found his voice.
"They are somewhere else – somewhere out of this realm. You shall be seeing them shortly."
Otogi doesn't ask for clarification. They approach Cyndia's door and Otogi wonders if he should keep walking and choose an empty room. His thoughts are dashed when Mariku shoves the knife into his side. Otogi howls.
"Why have such dark thoughts?" the man asks. "Do you take me for a fool? There's only one light on in this hallway, so this room couldn't be anyone's but yours?" He pulls the bloody knife out of Otogi's side and flicks the blood off the blade. "Your screams are too weak. I want to hear them louder."
Otogi whimpers. He presses his hand to the wound, ignoring the sticky feeling of blood between his fingers. All thoughts of harming this criminal are gone from his mind; he has no way of escaping. With his clean, free hand, he opens up the door and steps inside. Pegasus remains by his betrothed's beside, holding her hand. Cyndia is barely awake, yet she is the first to turn her head slightly to look at him. Her eyes widen when she catches sight of his injury.
"Otogi," she whispers, her voice tapering out at the end.
Pegasus looks up. Before anyone else can get a word in, Otogi is shoved through the door and Mariku steps inside. He grabs Otogi by the hair and propels him into a nearby chair. Then he goes back and slowly closes the door. Once he is done, he turns around, claps his hands together, and says, "So, now can I have my money?"
Otogi shivers in his seat. He slowly gets back up and heads towards his briefcase. Swiftly, a knife is at his throat, drawing a bit of blood which dribbles down his chin.
"Ah, ah, ah. No pulling a gun out on me, please."
"No gun," Otogi says slowly. "I'm g-getting your cheque ready."
Mariku pauses. "I want cash – three million in cash."
Otogi's moth goes dry. He turns to Pegasus, who looks equally horrified. Neither of them have three million dollar in cash. They will have that money soon, once D. D. D. is launched and the profits start ranking in, but they don't have it now. Their plan was to give Mariku the cheque and ask him to cash it in a few days. They'd give him a lie saying that it takes a few days to process cheques from large corporations such as Industrial Illusions, yet he would have his three million dollars shortly. This plan is now impossible because of Mariku's request. Without the extra days to launch D. D. D., Pegasus and Otogi are broke with a three million dollar debt to an illegal moneylender with a knife.
Neither one speaks for a moment. Mariku stops tossing his knife between his hands at looks at each of them. "No money?" he says softly. "Well that just won't do." The lights flicker on and off. "Since there's no one around, I'll be the only one to hear all of your screams."
The next morning, the newspaper heading reads: 'Billion Dollar Company Falls into Debt: Crawford and Otogi's Industrial Illusions Falls after Their Untimely Deaths'. Below is a small report on how both CEOs were slaughtered in Crawford's betrothed's hospital room. The reports say that the mess was astounding and the room is beyond reparable. Crawford's wife, Cyndia, was the only one who survived – yet, that morning she passed away from myeloid leukaemia in her room.
What reports say is the strangest part of this series of unexplained deaths is the fact that neither Otogi nor Crawford's bodies were found. The blood and gore was there, but the body was missing, either in ruins or simply disappeared. The only evidence was the carnage, and a blank cheque with blood splatters on it.
Mariku sits in his desk, sipping coffee and whisky from a black mug and admiring the view from the office suite in the Industrial Illusions building. He understands that he only has a few more minutes before the police arrive to inspect Crawford's private suite, yet he believes that he deserves his share of the scenery before he takes his leave. Wiping his bloody hands on his slacks, he settles back in his chair and smiles. It will forever amaze him how careless young men are with their dreams and money; one must hold both dear to them, or settle for an empty heart of death and debt.