What it means to really live
by Jasmin Kaiba
Looking at every single aspect of life to that very moment, you decide that you haven't really lived a minute of it. You keep asking yourself the same question all over again, 'why haven't I lived my life?' and you come to one answer only, 'I don't know how to live it'. You know that's true and yet you can't bring yourself to grasp that fact, you don't want to.
Those questions and doubts started to arise two weeks ago when the one Mazaki Anzu has once again gotten on your last nerve. You have told her she has no life, and when she asked you why, you have smirked and said that she lives for the destinies of other people, not herself. What you haven't anticipated was that the girl would return you smirk full on and answers you, 'I may live for other people, but you live for machines, if anyone doesn't have a life then it would be you Kaiba Seto. There are billions of people who have lived their lives without really living a moment, and you are one of them, not me, I've had my moments'.
Those words haven't left you ever since, and what is worse, her image neither. Why that girl keeps intruding into your life, you'll never understand, just as you'll never understand why the hell you bother listening to her and let her words get to you. Maybe because she seems to be the only one really interested in you as a person, and not as the image you have created about yourself. She doesn't see the CEO, the duelist, nor the billionaire, but rather the boy who shares her age, the orphan, and the man you have the potential to become if you try hard enough. She's different, you know it, and it drives you insane. She drives you crazy.
She drives you crazy in many different ways, and you can never decide if they're good or bad. She drives you crazy with her insight of your person; she drives you crazy with her ever-present smile and sunny nature; she drives you crazy with her words and the fact that she won't leave you be; but most of all she drives you crazy with desire for her. And not only her body, but her heart and soul as well. When it comes to Mazaki Anzu, you want everything, her beauty, her wit and her love. Those things scare you most of the time, and you don't want to think about it, but it keeps coming back, again and again.
You know you're not the commitment kind of person, it's not like you're an playboy either, it's just that you've never found the time for anything more then the occasional one night stand to fulfill your needs. The women you've bedded were all very well aware that you won't be calling them the next day and that more then likely won't be a repeat performance, but Anzu, Anzu wouldn't want to have that. While you're confident you can come up with enough charm to woo Anzu to your bed, you also know that she won't do it, expect you've gone on a few dates and are taking the relationship seriously. She's a girlfriend kind of girl, she has boyfriends, not escorts and one night stands.
And that's what pains you the most. You don't know enough about life to say, 'yes, I can be your boyfriend, Anzu. I want to, I know I can.' You want Anzu, you want her more then you've wanted most things in your life, she intrigues you, she's different, she's lively, she exciting, she's refreshing, and you love it.
You've made up your mind and changed it a thousand times by now. You want to call her, you take the phone, punch in the number you know by heart at this moment, and then disconnect before the first ring. You're a coward, you know it and yet you can't do anything about it.
Once again you stare at the phone, as if you're hoping it would ring and she would be on the other line. You wish she would take this decision out of your hands, she would come to you, and you know that if she ever did, you'd say yes, because you'd never be able to deny her anything. But as it is, she won't. She's not in the position to come to you, she's convinced you hate her, so why would she come offer a relationship to a man who dislikes her? It's all in your hands, and for the first time in your life you can't make up your mind.
Once again an image of her smiling face and glowing azure eyes flashes through your mind and in a spur of the moment you take out your cell, punch in her number, put the phone to your ear and wait. At the third ring her familiar voices answers and you want to hang up, but put you freehand in your pocket and hold the phone firmly to your ear.
"Anzu? It's Kaiba." You sound too cold and too stiff to your own ears and you curse inwardly.
"Kaiba? What can I do for you?" She sounds genuinely surprised and you don't know if you should feel guilty or insulted.
"Well, I was thinking maybe you'd like to join me for dinner sometimes?" Your words don't sound forced or hostile, your tone is light yet slightly nervous, and you're pleased.
But then when she doesn't answer and silence is all that greats you on the other line for a few minutes, you begun to fidget slightly. You know she hasn't hung up, but why isn't she answering.
Just as you prepare to call her name again, her voice comes slightly freaked and very unsure, "Is this some kind of joke?"
"No! No, of course not. I just wanted to ask you out for dinner." You're quick to defend your motives, and you hope she believes you.
"Ok, I'll believe you. But if this turns out to be a joke, so help me God, Kaiba!" You want to chuckle at her threat, but resort to grinning, what she can't see, you don't want her angry at you, she suspicious of the sincerity of your motives, that's enough.
"Don't worry, I'm very serious. How does Saturday around seven sound?" Your smile is evident in your voice and you know that she's picked it up, she perceptive enough.
"Saturday around seven sounds good. I'll see you then. Bye..." You can hear her smile as well, her words were quite and sincere, her bye soft, but she's hung up before you can say another word.
You return your cell to your pocket and grin. You make sure not to forget to get reservations at you favorite Chinese place, because you know she loves Chinese food, you call the florist to deliver you their largest bouquet of yellow roses, because those are her favorites, on Saturday at six, you call Mokuba and then you settle down.
'Now,' you tell yourself, 'now I'm finally beginning to live.' And you know it's true.
AN: Just a little something a mother comes up when she finds time to indulge in thinking between two screaming infants, oblivious friends and obnoxious relatives.
Hope you liked it though,
Jas