(PG, gen)
Seto had won.
Gozaburo was dead, smashed on the ground at the base of Kaiba Corporation's main building. It was 68 stories up – no one could have survived that fall. Even if Gozaburo was one of the most powerful men in Japan, he was far from invincible or immortal.
Gozaburo knew he had to die. He had lost, betrayed by his sons and his partners, his company ripped out from beneath his feet and leaving him to crash to the ground. He knew he had lost. He had jumped from the window himself, after all.
The Big Five hadn't expected him to do that – fools, the lot of them. They should have seen, should have known. They should have understood what Gozaburo and Seto always knew – Only the winner survives. The penalty for losing was death. Gozaburo had said so himself.
And Seto had won.
It had taken a lot of work, a lot of strategy to do it. Seto had to buy out the company, bribe those who could be bribed, threaten those who could be threatened, manipulate those who could be manipulated, use those who could be used. He had to take over, not just the stock but also the people, all under Gozaburo's nose.
Not that all of it had gone under his nose – he was probably aware that Seto was trying to take the company, but, foolishly content in his power, he let him do it. He wasn't aware of all that went on, and he thought what he did see wasn't a threat.
But Seto wasn't going to complain about his opponent's overconfidence. He had won.
At the end, it had been too easy. He had learned from the best, and he had people who were eternally loyal to him. He knew Mokuba would always be on his side. The boy was so foolish, so trusting, almost asking to be used. And Mokuba would never turn away from him. He liked being used by his brother, liked being useful. He didn't mind if he was hurt, as long as he helped Seto.
How was Seto supposed to reject that kind of a resource?
There was once a part of Seto that cried out with agony every time Mokuba was hurt or unhappy. There was once a part that shone with joy every time Mokuba smiled. They were long gone now – they hadn't really been necessary, anyway. Like all those other ideals, all those dreams and plans that had been tossed away, he really didn't need them. They had only weakened him, and he had won without them.
By the end, he'd tossed away so many pieces of himself that it didn't even hurt when he lost another one.
Some people would call him soulless, heartless, an unfeeling monster who used everyone. And maybe they were right. But what did it matter?
Seto had won.
It had cost him everything ever worth fighting for, but he had won.
-0-
I was working on another fic, and the last line came out and demanded it's own story. So here it is.