ONE SHOT
A/N: Of course, I do not own Yugioh! But I do own Seto Kaiba's brain. I keep it in a jar on my top shelf. (Inspired by AbbyMasrai, my best friend and another incredible writer, who encouraged me to do a "one shot.")
I'd had one shot to make a better future for me and my brother, one shot to take the lemons life had handed to us and make limoncello shots . . . and it was crumbling down my ears. The room seemed darker and my hearing was slightly muffled – was I going into shock? My chest hurt and I had to remind myself to breathe. I had lost my mother and my father and my home and all of my former possessions . . . and now I was losing the future I'd so carefully crafted for the past four years. The words my adoptive father was saying felt like knives twisting in my gut.
"So you see, Seto, I just can't have that kind of insubordination, especially under my own roof. I'm going to have to send you and your brother back." The old bastard looked so smug. And why wouldn't he? Gozaburo always liked tormenting me. Whether it was working me into exhaustion with his rigorous academic programme or withholding food until I met certain standards or threatening to hurt Mokuba, he knew how to get under my skin and make me do exactly what he wanted. But after four years of being his bitch, he wanted to send us back? Because I beat him at his own game? No. No. I couldn't let this happen.
We couldn't go back to the orphanage. We couldn't. Mokuba was constantly bullied there and I'd certainly burnt every bridge the second we left there. We couldn't go from three square meals a day to leftover prison food. Mokuba had jackets to keep him warm in the winter here; he didn't have that there. I couldn't go from college level calculus to basic algebra. It was easier to be orphans the first time because we didn't know what we were missing. Mokuba and I had a chance here. We could be executives or philanthropists, not night shift managers or janitors.
"That's not fair!" I exclaimed. "I'm the majority shareholder of KaibaCorp! The company belongs to me! You can't just get rid of us because I beat you! I beat you!" The fourteen-year-old boy in me wanted to cry, but the Kaiba in me didn't dare.
"You would have beaten me were it not for one thing." He couldn't even hold back his smirk now. He opened his mouth and knocked the wind out of my sails. "You're a minor. All of your shares are legally in my name until you turn eighteen. It was a clever idea, though; I'll give you that. But I can't have my own son trying to oust me . . . it's bad for business."
He stood up and stared fondly out of his window at the bright blue sky as he lit up a cigarette. A gentle June wind blew in and stirred the smoke from his Cuban cigar into a frenzied wisp. "It's a beautiful day to be an orphan," he commented.
No. Mokuba and I weren't going back there and with the threat of exile Gozaburo had backed me into a corner. He was a casual hunter; he should've known that a cornered animal would fight tooth and nail to get out. One shot. I had one shot to get this right or everything would be ruined. Everything I'd worked so hard for, everything I'd sacrificed . . . I couldn't lose it all now. I wouldn't let Gozaburo get in the way of the life I had planned for Mokuba.
It was so fast I'm not entirely sure how it happened. One minute, he was staring smarmily out the window, waiting for me to break down and beg for mercy . . . and the next, I had grabbed the paperweight off of his desk and bashed him on the back of his head. I must have caught him off-balance. He fell. He hovered there for a second and then I blinked. By the time I'd opened my eyes and looked down he was already smeared along the sidewalk. I can't remember if I threw up or not. . . . After a few seconds, I screamed.
Roland was the first one through the door. "What happened?" he asked, hand on his gun. He saw the open window, saw the bloody paperweight, and our eyes met.
"He fell," I said quietly.
There were footsteps approaching down the hall. This was it. The future I'd killed for was over. I was going to go to jail. Mokuba was either going into foster care or back to the orphanage. Everything was ruined. Everything was gone.
"Here." Roland reached out and slipped the paperweight into his pocket and put a hand on my back to support me in case I fell down. Goodness knows I needed it. I decided that if I survived this, he'd go straight to Head of Security.
A group of other security guards burst in, demanding answers. Roland immediately took over. "Mr. Kaiba jumped. If you'll excuse me, I'll take young Mr. Kaiba to a safe location." And he whisked me away to wash the blood off my hands.
One shot. I took it. And I'll never regret it.
End Note: Ta-da! Review and you'll have my undying love and appreciation.
