Author's Note
The following is something like a "Director's Cut" of, the previously published, "Champion." I wrote "Champion" about fourteen years ago, when I was still a very new writer and the work is HIGHLY unpolished. However, even after all of these years I have still kept this story in my heart as one of my favourite early works. So I decided to go back to this story and rewrite it. I want to make it the great story that I always knew it could be.
With this in mind, I hope that you enjoy this slight reimagining of "Champion." This version of the story will be broken up into chapters and will probably end up being significantly longer, richer, and (I hope) better developed than the original
Thank you for reading.
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Chapter 1 - The Beast and His Brother
The softness of early night, the last remnants of the sun's light having said their goodbyes not long since, fell upon a lush garden paradise, cultivated with such care and devotion as to make angels sigh. Gentle breezes tickled blossoms and leaves. In this place where peace reigned supreme there was one thing shockingly out of place. There in the midst of all this beauty, reclining and relaxed, sat a beast. In a place of verdant greens and playful pastels, an unnatural entity had flagrantly inserted itself.
At odds with its surroundings, bearing sharp blue eyes, cold pale skin, and the sharp features of a predator, the beast sat unperturbed. Calm and still without. However, within the beast, underneath the raw muscles, there was an all consuming fire. It kept the beast ever hungry, always demanding to slake an lethal thirst. It yearned for lifeblood. Its insistent urging could make his jaws ache. Its insidious whispers reminded him to dominate and feed. However, this particular beast did not embrace his fire. In his every waking hour he made sure the fire was carefully contained.
He did not allow the fire to burn free throughout himself. He kept the fire, its hunger and its rage, confined in, what he envisioned to be, a lantern within his chest. He could not rid himself of the essence of the beast he had become but he could shutter the fire, dimming its light and power over him. But this fire would not be ignored. Kept from running wild, the fire still made its presence known. The whispering hunger as his eyes found the thumping pulse in a neck. The gentle nudge reminding him that he could simply do away with the annoyance of some pestering person. The fire was ever-present in the beast's perception of himself but for others it was invisible. In fact, no one seemed able to see that he was a twisted facsimile hidden in plain sight.
It was an unparalleled disguise for a predator but a quick glance would cry out the truth to the primitive mind. The beast was danger. Its very presence sent shivers down spines. However, the beast was in a world where the human livestock had set aside almost all of their instincts. They had not found them convenient enough to continue heeding when they had created civilization. Despite the great part those instincts had playing in their survival for so many millennia, the primitive mind was doubted at best and buried at worst. This suited the beast, though.
It was because they had dulled their senses that the beast was able to walk among them. It was because they did not know to drive him from their lands and hunt him to the ends of the earth that he was able to relax in his large home. A property purchased with the copious amounts of money they gave him. For goods and services rendered, naturally. The beast did not simply take what he wanted. He was businessman. They praised his accomplishments and foolishly assumed that he was just some savvy entrepreneur with good luck. They imagined that their initial instincts were some figment of their imagination. The average human chose to go about their day, after meeting him, in blissful ignorance of how terrifying the beast was.
However, there was still one place where humans still had some impression of how to listen to those survival instincts. Strangely it was in an environment which could not look further away from the wilds, where those instincts had once been honed. It was in the corporate wilds that humans still found some use for those instincts. Unforgiving lands full of pitfalls, packs, and predators, all wrapped up in tall glass towers, suits, and ties.
Though they still retained some of their instincts, the beast still thrived. Their civilized minds could not listen fully to what those instincts screamed at them, the warnings of looming death. When they came in contact with the beast they didn't flee but rather bowed to his character. He easily dominated hopeful alphas. He inspired ranks of followers. He was a natural leader. This was all their civilized minds could understand of the warnings which rang through them.
Seto Kaiba was a leader, not to be challenged or trifled with. When he walked into a room they all listened. Awe, respect, and fear came from their biological imperative to survive. He could lead them to glory, under his command, or he could easily remove them from his path as he plowed forward to victory. His army of employees and partners hung upon his every word and they built his empire to his exacting standards.
Though that captain of industry, the beast of the corporate wilds, was left every day at the front gate. At home there was no fear, no intimidation. There was no bark nor any bite to the beast. There he was a simple disciple of Love. He devoted his energy to a light in the world which was too delicate and too pure to be allowed to meet with that fire within his lantern. This light lived in a state apart from the corporate wilds. It lived sheltered from all the other beasts that prowled the world. It existed inside a small form which was now curled up on the beast's chest. Breathing deeply and sucking a thumb, it had no inkling of the nature of the beast. It did not see even the barest hint of that fire in him. In the eyes, and heart, of the slumbering child the beast was a savior and guardian.
Malnourished, dirty, and nearly forgotten in a trash heap of an orphanage. The child had probably been originally slated to die unwanted, unloved, and unknown. However, a twist of Fate had landed the boy in the path of the beast.
As part of its corporate mission, KaibaCorp professed that it was determined not to simply be a company which focused on profits. The company always took pains to improve the cities where it opened offices. It was no secret that special attention was always paid to the institutions in those cities which dealt with children. Orphanages, especially, seemed to be given priority. That communal house of horrors, where the child was to be found, was no exception.
Recently shut down under the mountain of violations which had piled up, it was set to be renovated and reformed before being reopened. Like rats fleeing a sinking ship, the employees had taken whatever they thought would bring them a profit and left the children. It was left to those coming in, to clear out the children, finding them temporary lodgings before more permanent arrangements could be made. It was an unfortunate complication but with much hurried work, all of the children had been accounted for and removed. Now all that remained was for a visit from the head of the company, before the building would be gutted.
The gathered press all knew that this was just a clever public relations stunt. Another company's carefully orchestrated display to ingratiate them with the population. The company would show that it 'truly cared for the children of the world,' their net worth would rise, their products would fly off the shelves. In other words, the company professed not to care about their profits and then they'd profit from their, highly publicized, good deeds. The public appearance of the notoriously reclusive founder of the company was a nice touch, though. However, the reporters knew how this would all play out. He would come, take some little tour of the premises, then make a little speech. Everyone would clap, questions would be asked, cameras would snap photos, and in the end he'd get back in his limousine, never to visit this corner of the city again.
It was certainly a shock when Seto Kaiba, after what must have been a very short tour, suddenly left. It was a strange turn of events. He didn't make a speech, he didn't wait for applause, he didn't even pose for photos. Strangest of all was the bundle he was carrying in his arms when he hurried out of the building. He had moved so swiftly, and with so much urgency, that he was out of the door and into his limousine before many knew what was happening. It was all over so fast that the reporters barely had any time to ask questions. However, their keen eyes noticed that it was a bundle of dirty blanket that he was clutching to his chest. The photographers weren't able to get photographs of a grand speech but those with their wits still about them managed to snap a few photos as the great man strode past. In one of those photos, there seemed to be a tiny foot hanging out of a fold of the filthy lump.
That was how the boy had come to be with the beast. Picked up out of muck and mire. Taken into a real home. Given food, medicine, and a room of his own. Offered everything he could ever wish for and reassured that his every wish would be granted. In the end, his greatest wish was the simplest thing. He wanted to be held. Starved of affection, the boy had initially feared when he was set down that he would never be picked up again. He spent nearly every waking moment in the arms of his savior. Even when he slumbered, he did so in those arms. Slowly, the darkness and sorrow that had clung to the boy had fallen away and shining from him was a gentle light. An innocence and purity that found and accepted beauty all around him.
Even in the beast, the boy saw beauty. Perhaps because he was so ignorant of what human touch felt like he did not know how disgusting the beast was. How was he to know how strange the peculiarities of his guardian truly were? He never thought to wonder about the deep emptiness he heard when his head lay against that large chest. Having never been held, the boy did not know that he should have heard the beating of a heart. Even the coldness of those arms which held him did not seem to make an impression upon him. His greatest wish having been granted the boy dared not question his luck. In those early days, when he was so sure that this could not possibly last, he clung desperately to the beast.
Strangely, the beast found that his greatest wish had also been granted. One of them, at least. One which he had not known he was carrying. Just as the child clung desperately to him, the beast found himself clinging to the boy. This closeness, though, held surprising consequences.
"Daddy-"
Seto had flinched when Mokuba had said the word. It touched a painfully tender spot in his mind. The beast had not given any thought to what the child would eventually call him. However, he knew immediately that this term was too close. He looked into the boy's shocked eyes and he saw how innocent they were. Those eyes belonged to someone who could never fathom the power of titles. Blessedly ignorant, Mokuba did not understand how titles bound people together, oftentimes against their wishes.
This was something that the beast knew it must never do. He must never hold so tightly to the boy that he crippled him. He must allow the boy the freedom to grow and eventually leave him. He must accept that in time he would be alone again. In answer to this, the ache of a loneliness he had known all of his, preternaturally, long life whispered to him. It urged him to grab this boy and never let him go. Called for him to bind them together. Pushed for him to stitch the boy to himself, with the immaterial threads of titles and obligations. The ache promised that he would never know a lonely moment for as long as he lived. He could ensure that they would be together forever. It would be so simple to fill that hole within himself with this boy.
However, Seto had once been a boy bound and stitched to a creature with a void to fill. There was nothing which could ever make him commit that selfish sin. There was no amount of loneliness which could excuse it.
He spoke coolly, so as not to betray the revulsion he felt at his own passing thoughts, "Mokuba, I'm not your father. You can call me Seto."
The little boy's eyes darted away and tried to find a proper place to look as his cheeks grew warm. He wrinkled his nose, and sniffled, "I -uh I know you aren't my Daddy- I just," he tried to swallow the lump which had grown in his throat. "I just want to be…" The boy had mumbled something and Seto allowed himself to set a hand on the boy's trembling back. "I just want to be family…" His shoulders shook and he choked on sobs as he cried into his hands.
The beast felt a new ache, and cursed himself. Even as he had tried to save the boy from pain he had thoughtlessly, though accidentally, dealt him a cruel blow.
"Big brother… Or just Brother…" Seto had said softly, tasting the words and testing them. The boy had sniffled and blinked his wet eyes. "You can call me Big Brother…if you like…"
And so it was from that moment on, Seto was Mokuba's Big Brother. It was a development which pleased the boy and made the beast feel just a little less like a beast. Each time he heard "Big Brother," the beast felt something warm in his chest, as if someone were breathing life back into him.
To understand the beast's hollowness and aches, it is integral that one understand the nature of the beast. Though it moved and spoke it was without true life. He was of a class of creatures which we have all heard of. From the darkness of history. Found in the tales of those living on the edges of the harsh wilderness. Romanticized in those stories spun about the reclusive aristocracy. Their kind has had many names and titles in many languages, with the most recent in popular circulation being 'vampire.'
Built up in tales of adventure and romance, vampires are most often portrayed as the most perfect creatures. Adept at hunting in plain sight. Blessed with unnatural abilities. Gifted with eternal life. What could they not take by force or coercion? The tangible and material is easily acquired.
Unfortunately, not everything wanted can be graced by fingertips.
Dominated by a raging hunger. Tortured by guilt. Or even simply gripped by a never-ending boredom. For every monster, there was some anguish they could not rid themselves of. Try as they might, with things and activities. The acquisition or creation of art. Traveling the world. The throes of wanton passion. The study of the divine. Still the ache persists for most.
For the beast in the garden the illusive intangible treasure was simple. Meaning. He wanted to have a purpose and direction to his existence. What was he to do with eternity? What would he accomplish? What would fill the hole in his chest? There had once been something which was to be his purpose but the opportunity had passed and eventually the memory of it faded, and was lost altogether.
Meaning was lost and new meaning had to be found. Poetically fitting, it was when the beast had not been looking that meaning had found him. Meaning had come with the boy. Giving this boy a life free from worry, pain, and fear had given Seto's life purpose.
Curiously, purpose had not been the only thing which had accompanied the boy's arrival. Something else had blossomed in the presence this little person. It was just as intangible as purpose and could only be classified as Love. As soon as it arrived, Love quickly began to infuse itself into every aspect of the beast's life at home. It left its traces in everything the boy touched. Including the beast.
During every moment with Mokuba, Seto felt Love add some new piece to him. A memory which made him smile or made him sigh. They were little remembrances which he felt kindle a warmth within himself. A pure warmth. One which was vital, wholly unlike the fire of hunger. It did not drag him down into the darkness of his bestial desires but rather lifted him up. Up and away from the things he feared within himself. Away from the wretched memories which once threatened to swallow him up. This warmth calmed the hungry flames, soothed the savage beast, and brought a peace that Seto had never known before.
Seto looked absently up at the heavens. Through the leaves and branches, at the stars far above. Lifting a hand, he stroked the boy's hair. He sighed and smiled, this was a moment that he would not mind stretching on for eternity.
Alas, these peaceful moments are like shining lures in the darkness to the mischievous and malicious. They call out to those daemons who plague us. It is these moments that we all curse ourselves for not savoring more, once we are embroiled in some struggle which followed. However, these moments can also be seen as a gift from Fate and Destiny. Some small consolation to apologize for the havoc which will soon be wrought in the lives of those sad creatures for whom the time has come to submit to Strife.
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Author's Note
I don't usually have more than a single note, at the end of a story or chapter, but I thought it would be funny to point out something which struck me.
In the original "Champion" what was the essential content of the above was expressed with only 204 words. Here, the word count ballooned to 2,952 words. In case I needed any more reason to break the story up into chapters.
Ok, I'm done. Thank you for reading!
