Disclaimer: I own no Yugioh characters portrayed in this fic :)
Chapter 1
How, in the name of all that is holy, did it come to this?
It was a question that reigning duel champion, Yugi Mutou, would ask himself frequently over the days that would follow the 'incident'. His height, or rather, lack of it, was serving as great impediment in his attempts to keep Joey Wheeler from strangling the tall, sneering CEO.
"You stay back, Yug! I'm gonna thrash that asshole 'til his own fan club don't recognise him no more!"
"Joey! Please! We're supposed to be setting an example . . ."
"Huh. No need, Mutou." Kaiba flicked some plebian germs from the lapel of his white business coat where Joey had unceremoniously seized him. "The mutt doesn't follow 'human-speak'. It's really quite funny that he understood the invite, seeing as it didn't come with a complimentary dog biscuit . . ."
"Ya snotty jerkwad! Wait 'til I . . ."
"All right, enough." A deep, sultry female voice interrupted the spat as the owner, a perfectly made-up and manicured Mai Valentine, sauntered over and grasped Joey firmly by the elbow. Yugi gave an inaudible sigh of relief as the enraged duelist immediately subsided a little. "Take a seat, Joseph. This isn't your argument."
"How fortunate that you reminded me." Kaiba's icy glare turned back, full force, on the original instigator. He raised the offending object that Yugi had shoved into his hand a few minutes before, holding it as if it had been used it to scrape dog-droppings off his heel. "I would think that you would have learnt by now, Mutou. I don't believe. I never will. You , your sudden bursts of puberty and your 'cheerleaders of all things supernatural' can go to hell."
Yugi, despite his innate good nature, felt his patience begin to slip. "Kaiba, it doesn't matter what you believe. You're free to follow whatever makes sense in your mind, but the Rod belongs with you."
"Belongs with me?" The imposing, broad-shouldered frame seemed to heighten, if possible, as Kaiba's eyebrows drew dangerously close to each other. The temperature in the champions' box dropped by a few degrees and Mai took a seemingly casual step forward so that she stood in-between the two. "Care to explain how some artifact from ancient Egypt is supposed to be in my possession? And don't give me that re-incarnation crap. This . . . thing should go straight to a museum."
"Waddaya mean ya don't believe?" Joey would not be suppressed for long. "After all we been through, ya still mean ta tell us ya ain't seen nothin' that convinces you? Hell, even I was pretty darn skeptic 'bout all dis . . . stuff, but I seen it wid my own pair o' eyes and Yug here's my buddy and he don't lie 'bout nothin', ya got that, moneybags?"
"Seen with your own eyes? Please," Kaiba scoffed and waved the Rod in mockery, "Hallucinogenics and clever holograms, nothing I myself couldn't develop, given the time and considering I'd want to engage in such a useless pursuit." His gaze traveled back to Yugi, somewhat hidden behind Mai's ample curves and something new entered his expression, something the shorter boy didn't like in the slightest. "Prove it then, Mutou." The Rod was out again, pointing straight towards the spiky, multi-coloured hair.
Something came to Yugi's mind, then, a thought, not his own. "Kaiba . . ." he raised his hands in warning.
"What? Afraid I might invoke the displeasure of the Gods?"
"No, just . . . just put the Rod away . . ."
The CEO gave a short, harsh bark of laughter. Mai frowned and glanced at Yugi's worried expression that was starting to morph slightly into panic. Without looking away she addressed Kaiba. "Uh, hon, why don't you just do what . . . "
"Prove it," hissed Kaiba, brandishing the polished length of metal, "Convince me of my so-called 'heritage' and I will never question you again . . ." He stopped abruptly, his motions frozen, eyes transfixed by the Rod.
"Kaiba! No!" Yugi clutched at his own Puzzle, the horror in his voice clearly audible. Mai turned in confusion from one to the other, her gaze widening as she observed the changes that were asserting themselves. A shout from Joey. A "What the . . . ?" from Kaiba. And that's when things . . . well, went downhill. To put it lightly.
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The day had started like any other. With a Mokuba.
"SETO! Setosetostosetoseto . . ."
Grunt.
" . . . setosetosetoseto . . . uh . . . nope, not awake . . . setosetoseto . . ."
"Whtstme?"
"It's four A. M. You promised!"
He was awake now and glaring blearily up at the beaming violet eyes and unruly thatch of dark hair that heralded the presence of his just-turned-thirteen-and-loving-it brother.
"Mokuba, as I recall . . ."
"Yeah, I know, the alarm was set for five. But I checked your schedule and I calculated that you'd need an extra hour if we're going to test drive the rollercoaster before the opening."
"You changed my schedule?"
"Yup."
"My meeting . . ."
"I changed the venue to a coffee shop on Tamari Avenue and sent a memo to Megan so she could make necessary arrangements. Much more aesthetically pleasing and a relaxing atmosphere for your clients. You'll find that punctuality won't be so . . ."
"All right, all right. Now, if you'll get off my legs and actually allow me to move . . ."
With an almost impossibly energetic bounce, the one-kid wonder that was his younger brother darted away and stood to attention. Kaiba ruffled his hair on the way to the bathroom and shot him a proud glance. Vice-president of Kaibacorp in the making. Indeed.
He was showered, dressed and ready within half an hour and met Mokuba in the kitchen for a brief breakfast. An SUV was waiting out front, replacing the regular limo, as they were traveling with heavy security today. The roaring engines expelled billowing clouds of condensation into the frigid morning air as the gleaming convoy of dark vehicles crunched along the gravel walk that led up to the manor gates. The crackle of ripped plastic caused Kaiba to look up sharply from his laptop to check that no 'junk-food' was making its way surreptiously into his brother's digestive system. Mokuba grinned and held up a cereal bar.
"So . . . who've you invited to the hallowed Champions' box?"
"Yugi of course. And Wheeler." He winced and Mokuba laughed. "The mutt is second runner-up after all. Rebecca Hawkins, although she's already informed us that she won't be attending. College issues. Mai Valentine, won the championship in Europe."
"Mmhmmmm . . . she's a fine piece of . . ."
"Mokuba!"
"Just kidding!"
"Remind me to monitor what you watch on T. V."
"You wouldn't!"
The rollercoaster 'test-drive' was enjoyable enough, even for him. He stepped out, straightening his tie and running a hand through his ruffled brown hair while Mokuba leapt out with a wild whoop and took no such measures towards his own tidiness. The grand opening of Kaibaland was set to take place in two hours and he set out on a swift walkabout with the boy in tow. A tournament had been organised (without himself or any of the previous champions participating) as an effective way to garner attention for talented up-and-coming duelists. While they were wearing his state-of-the-art new duel-disc, of course. Yugi, himself and the other highly-ranked duelists would be watching events unfold in the spectacular dueling arena below from the luxury of the champions' box.
And this was precisely where he found himself, some hours later (minus Mokuba, thankfully) when everything went so abominably wrong.
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The day had started like any other. With a moan and a string of curses as bright sunlight prised open protesting eyelids.
Sitting up in bed and stretching, listening to the satisfying 'pop' of her stiff back, Mai Valentine glanced across the dingy little bedroom to the cracked mirror opposite. A ghastly vision stared back, the face a stark white contrast to the dull bedclothes and the neon green projections from the straggly scalp. Groaning, she heaved herself out of the narrow bed and headed for the bathroom where the self-manufactured face-mask and hair-curlers were removed and the shower turned on for a good five minutes before hot water sputtered out. She studied her reflection again as she removed the last of the curlers, setting the cheap plastic cylinders carefully aside.
It wasn't the way it used to be. She used to get away with a simple glance at her reflection, a hasty application of lip-gloss, a touch of bronzer to her radiant, healthy complexion and a complimentary slap on the butt in the mirror before she left the house. Now she had to scrutinize. To examine herself from every angle. To cover up the blemishes and pastiness that came with an infrequent, inadequate diet and the shadows of fatigue under each eye. To curl and primp the lacklustre blonde mane that had once bounced and gleamed in the sunlight like spun gold.
How long? How much longer do I have to keep this up? Before I settle down with a white picket fence, two-and-a-half kids and a beer-bellied accountant? Before I fade . . .
She was fading. Bit by bit. And the numerous jobs she had taken to secure some financial security were taking their toll. The winnings from her previous tournament were all but depleted in funding her lavish lifestyle. She had never planned for this, never thought she would ever land in such desperate straits. When she had heard that she would be attending this tournament merely as a spectator, not as a participant, she had nearly screamed in frustration. No prize money. But she would see Joey.
Stepping into the shower, a heavy, dull feeling settled in her stomach and her throat constricted uncomfortably. Joey. Joseph Wheeler. She still hadn't established the nature of her feelings for him. She was afraid to, something she would never admit. Mai Valentine didn't scare easily. But there was still that painful, pleasurable squeeze she felt deep inside whenever she heard his voice, watched the wind catch his thick hair, saw the warmth in his glowing brown eyes that was just for her. But would he act on it? Were they forever to be 'just friends'? He was younger than her; he could move on, make a good life for himself, free of her. And she could move on too, settle down, have a good life with that ache always plaguing her inside. The feeling that despite her talent, charm, wit and natural beauty, she would forever be wondering why real happiness was so elusive.
The makeup came on, a layer on top followed by concealer, artfully applied. A touch of rouge, not too bright, otherwise the paleness of her complexion would take the forefront, and lipstick. Then the eyeshadow, light, neutral tones in gold and apricot hues to create a delicate glow. And finally, eye drops to lend a liquid brightness to her gaze that had vanished as of late. No cracks in this mask, Valentine. Her clothes were no longer the midriff and thigh-revealing affairs she had in plenty. A fitted knee-length skirt and summer blouse were selected to conceal the underlying scrawny shape of her legs and shoulders.
The tournament would be held during the grand opening of Kaibaland. She no longer had enough free cash to afford gas for her little convertible so the bus service would have to do. It was a grueling walk from the bus-stop to the theme park in her high heels and she immediately found a ladies-room upon entry and took the shoes off. Seating herself on the pristine toilet lid, she massaged the soles of her feet for some minutes before setting out for the ostentatious duel arena and the champions' box. Her stomach clenched in anticipation of seeing Joey.
Of course, it was always rather anticlimactic once she was actually with him. There would be no sudden realisation, no meeting of eyes in sudden understanding, no electric-ridden touches or breathy exchanges in stilted words. She was too much of a cynic to expect anything of the sort. And yet, it would be nice, for once . . .
"Mai!"
She was embraced by strong, wiry arms and Joey then held her at arm's-length, his hands reassuring on her shoulders. He didn't feel the shudder that passed imperceptibly through her frame, the sudden crack in the seamless facade and the flicker of desperation as if she were ready to throw herself into his arms and forget everything. In a fraction of a second, it was gone.
"Joseph." She flashed him one of her dazzling trademark smiles and he blushed and relinquished his grip on her hastily. "Missed me?"
And then Kaiba had arrived. Kaiba with his domineering presence and impossible height, all tailored suit, perfectly combed hair and gripping, arctic gaze. Everything about the CEO aggravated Joey beyond reason. A fact that was painfully obvious from the raging row that had currently taken over the champions' box and drawn all their attention away from the duel below.
Mai had stepped in as mediator, hushing the ranting Joey, placing herself between a glacially enraged Kaiba and frustrated Yugi. And that was, really, how she had involved herself when things went so utterly, damnably, abominably wrong.
At least Kaiba had gone with her.
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A/N: A big change from my usual style . . . but I felt some variety was necessary J