December 5, 2006

Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh.

A/N: Inspired by the book of the same title. It's been in its brainchild stage for over a year, and since I've got writer's block on my other fic, "Egyptian Requiem," I just thought I'd try this one. Also, I introduce one new OC.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven

By Pearl of the Dark Age

The First Person

Mokuba took the tray of food, medicine, and tea from the servant. "I'll take this to Nii-sama myself," he said somberly. She nodded, bowed, and hurried away. Mokuba sighed and turned to face the large, double French doors that led into his elder brother's room. He tip-toed through as quietly as he could and set the tray beside Seto's bed. He gazed fondly at him, lying asleep peacefully.

Seto's face was paled with age. Wrinkles lined his forehead and creased at the corners of his eyes. His hair was as white as snow, but had not receded much to the envy of his peers. Last week had been his 80th birthday. The proud CEO had survived two stress-induced heart attacks and was finally succumbing to the enormous strain of running Kaiba Corp since the young age of 15.

To Mokuba, it felt like a lifetime ago. He himself was now a grandfather of seven beautiful grandchildren. His hair was cast-iron grey, and his face retained all its charm even with a few wrinkles. His beloved wife had passed away from breast cancer at the youthful age of 47. Mokuba never remarried, and he diligently remained a good father to his two children. He had walked his daughter down the aisle, toasted his son at his wedding, and cried when his first grandchild had been born. He had 75 years of happy memories. His legacy was his family. He did not start to feel old until his brother had become ill.

Mokuba observed his elder brother's lined face. He knew that death was inevitable, but he could not stop regretting on his brother's behalf. Seto had spent his long eighty years as a bachelor. His legacy was Kaiba Corp.

When Mokuba had moved out of the large mansion they had inherited from Gozoboro, he married his high school sweetheart at the very young age of 20. His brother had been very happy for him, but he then threw himself into his work. Seto had become even more of an obsessed workaholic than he had been. Mokuba continued to carry the torch of Vice President until his wife had fallen ill. Then, he had passed the torch onto his eldest son and devoted himself to his dying wife.

"Mokuba," Seto whispered, shaking his younger brother out of his reminiscence. Mokuba leaned in close to hear him better. Seto's eyes were half-closed, but they still retained the same fierce ice blue appearance. It was the only feature that looked untouched by time. His voice dry, feeble, and raspy, he continued, "Mokuba, I want my nephew to take my position. I think that…" He started coughing violently for a moment. After it subsided, he continued as if uninterrupted, "… it's time for me to finally retire." He smirked faintly at his own humor. He closed his eyes again, his breathing labored. Mokuba waited to see if he would wake up again. It did not seem as if he would, so he sat back into the armchair a meter away from the nightstand. He picked up the book he had been reading to occupy himself while waiting for the inevitable. He had long been past crying. He and his brother had talked about everything they could think of, and there was nothing left to say. A will had been written, and Seto had already given Mokuba the title deed to the house.

The younger Kaiba brother had spent his time wondering what words could be befitting of the last words his brother would ever hear. He beat his brain into a pulp, for he could not conceive anything that was remotely close to describing how much he loved his brother, how grateful he was for everything Seto had ever done for him, and how much he was going to miss him. Mokuba knew Seto was in pain. He suffered violent coughs and chills, no matter how many blankets were placed upon him. Every labored, rattling breath Mokuba feared would be the last. He could not let his brother go without those last words. They had to be perfect. It also seemed that Seto was too stubborn to die. He was in pain and continuously dosed with drugs, but he chose to suffer it rather than let himself go. There was a small part of Mokuba that wished his brother would stop being so stubborn. He wanted a peaceful end for Seto, even if it meant losing him.

Hours wiled away. Soft shadows transited the room, casting eerily abstract patterns that seemed to spell out mysterious secrets. The light dimmed as the sun neared the horizon, and Mokuba looked up to see if Seto had woken again. It was time for his medication again, and the younger Kaiba sat up with a grunt. He carefully marked his page, and softly placed the book on the nightstand. He gingerly sat on the edge of Seto's bed, tracing his fingers over the familiar face to wake him. Seto's eyes did not even flutter. Mokuba blinked. With hesitation, he checked his brother's pulse.

A single tear slid down to his chin and dropped onto his lap.


Seto awoke to find himself lying flat on his back. He sat up with care and realized his bones were not aching anymore from the arthritis. "I guess those pills do work," he mused aloud. It seeped into his senses that the bed beneath him felt strange, like damp grass. He blinked, and his vision sharpened into focus. He was sitting in the middle of a field of tall, swaying grass. It was extremely chilly and windy. He could see the green carpet stretch to the roots of a snow-capped mountain range. He was utterly confused and put a hand down to help himself stand up. He then noticed that his skin was young and smooth.

Amazed, he checked the rest of his body to discover than he was his 16-year-old self, complete with the trademark white trench coat that had gotten destroyed in the third world war. How he had missed that coat! "I'm young again!" he cried happily, forgetting himself.

"Not exactly," a voice spoke behind him. He turned around to face a young woman who looked his own age, and a sharp gasp escaped him before he could restrain himself. He knew her face. He had congratulated the blushing bride at his brother's wedding. His sister-in-law smiled at him benignly. "I think you now know where you are, don't you?" she rhetorically stated.

"Mongolia?" Seto replied, not willing to believe that this is what Heaven looked like.

"No," she smiled. "You're at the threshold to Heaven. When we each arrive, we meet five people who have helped shape our lives on Earth. Each of us five chooses what the threshold will look like. I chose my homeland – Mongolia."

"I'm dead?" Seto ascertained. She nodded. "There goes the stock," Seto muttered. "I don't know-"

She interrupted him. "Don't worry about Mokuba. I've got someone keeping an eye on him for me." She winked at him. "It's time for us to talk, Nii-san."

"So, we also get to choose what age to be as well?" Seto inquired immediately. She nodded again. "And will I have to wait and be one of someone's five people, too?" She nodded again. He shook his head as if that would help him to better comprehend that he was no longer alive. "Why don't I feel dead?"

"That's why they call it the 'afterlife,'" she answered, a little amused at Seto's reluctance. She had expected this reaction from the stoic CEO. "Nii-san, everything will start to feel natural soon. You're body isn't corporeal; it's only your self that is keeping its image. This is how we manipulate our environment."

"Hayanari," Seto started, but she held up a hand to stop him.

"Call me by my Mongolian name, Solongo," she replied. "I always tried to get you to call me that, but you were such a tease."

The corners of Seto's mouth twitched as he forced himself not to smile. "What do you want to talk about, Nari-chan?"

Solongo glared at him endearingly. She smiled and sighed, giving up on her battle. "The five people you meet are people who have influenced your life, and whose life you have also influenced in turn. They will help explain how your life had transgressed, and how you came to be you. I'm your first person because I asked to be." Solongo indulged him with another warm smile; the sharp lines of her Mongolian features softened.

"You were the first person I could truly call my friend," Solongo elaborated. "I was friends with Mokuba, but our friendship was quite unstable in the beginning, if you remember."

"Yeah, wasn't he going out with someone else at the time?" Seto recalled.

Solongo nodded and continued. "You befriended me. It was a very unpredictable time in my life, where I felt everything was falling apart. You treated me like a younger sister, and I don't know what I would have done without you, Nii-san."

"Well, it was nice to have a younger sister around." He shrugged, nonchalant.

She waited for him to cave in and be more honest. She knew he did not have the same inhibitions as he did when he was flesh and blood. He would not be able to deny what was truly in his heart in the threshold.

He looked up from the ground to her beetle black eyes. "You were the first person besides Mokuba I could trust," he admitted. "I started to change after that. I became more trusting. You were the only person I called family that wasn't related to me by blood. In a way, you were my first true friend."

Solongo grinned. "We were quite the pair. I remember that you wanted me to take over Kaiba Corp with Mokuba should anything have happened to you. Sorry I couldn't be there for you."

"I'm sorry that I couldn't save you," Seto replied softly. "I had all the money a man could want or need, but I couldn't save you."

"I wasn't meant to be saved," she said sweetly. "You have saved another's life. You have saved countless lives, in fact - especially when you managed to cooperate with your life-long rival."

"Hmph," Seto snorted indifferently. "Yugi's not dead yet, as far as I know; so, it's not like I'm meeting him here, is it?" She shrugged. He smirked at her. "Don't play dumb; I know you better than that! You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"Why spoil the fun?" she responded slyly. "It's not often that I've got the upper hand on you." She turned her head suddenly, as if listening to something Seto could not hear. She closed her almond-shaped eyes and turned back to Seto. "It looks like it's time for you to meet your second person. Your meetings will be brief, but painless despite whom you shall meet."

"What a minute," Seto stalled. "Who is the second person? Will I see you again, Hayanari?"

"As soon as you learn how to call me by my birth name!" she retaliated. But she softened again, and smiled benignly. "See you later, Nii-san!"