Disclaimer
This is Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction, posted on FanFiction (dot) net.
Fanfiction: A story written about a television show, book, comic or movie by people unconnected with the original and without any intention of making a profit. (taken from ralst (dot) com )
This story is rated M because it deals with mature themes and situations. If you are not prepared for a mature story that can involve any number of mature items, then this story is not for you.
He couldn't do it. Even though she was skilled, he still couldn't do it. Her tongue could wrap around him in a myriad different ways and the outcome would be the same. A body reacting but with no will behind it, he felt nothing and therefore, she became frustrated that her ministrations were getting her nowhere with him. Strands of her bleached hair caught the faint lighting in the smoky room and made them seem lighter than they were. He was more interested in the seemingly white hair with what she was doing.
"Get off of me." His voice, rough from the hours in the bar, was annoyed.
Instead of doing as he commanded, it seemed the woman was trying to redouble her efforts on him. Kaiba sighed and pushed at her shoulders. Her fingers gripped his hips tightly, refusing to budge as she swallowed his flesh. Ironic, this all began because he didn't want to fail as a man in front of his associates and now she was in the same position, even if that position put her on her knees.
Looking around, he could make out the figure of the mama-san in the back observing what the backroom had degenerated into. Her face was impassive. Long-schooled to this business, she no longer had much reaction to what she would see. Their eyes met briefly. Sapphire on black.
Kaiba sighed. As the drug made its way out of his system from the initial high, he found that he was disgusted with himself. A not-unusual response. On the other hand, it had cleared up the alcohol haze he had been experiencing prior to snorting the cocaine. Near him, people were rutting together in soulless intimacy. He shook his head.
Fed up with the girl in front of him, he pushed her off of him with both hands. He felt her teeth lightly scrape his tender flesh, causing him to wince, as her mouth released the turgid flesh with a pop. Her tears had caused her mascara to run down her cheeks. Kaiba could see the confusion and upset on her face, but he ignored it. Releasing her, he zipped up his trousers.
At that moment, his chief officer had disengaged himself from his own activities to join him. "Mister Kaiba, is everything okay?"
Frowning at the girl in front of him, Kaiba answered him, "Yes, but I need to go home. My brother will worry if I'm out much longer."
It was a weak excuse. He was sure it was well pass three in the morning and this wasn't the first time he had been out all night after a negotiation. However, the other man nodded and accepted the excuse. As far as Kaiba could tell when he glanced around at the others, he had proved himself a man to them. No one was paying much attention to him anymore. However, as to the woman sitting on the ground, he was sure that she had failed some test of her own and as far as he was concerned, that was her own problem and not his.
He stood up, ignoring her as he prepared to leave. She surged forward and grabbed his coattail. Surprised, Kaiba whipped around and stared down the hostess on the ground. At that very moment, in the half light of the dark, smoky room, she reminded him again of Bakura. Vulnerability completely exposed to his gaze alone. It bothered him.
"Please, Master Kaiba, don't leave. I will try harder! Please, forgive me for not pleasing you!"
Kaiba's eyes were cold, like chips of ice, and when he responded his voice was a sneer. "Why would I give a slut like you another chance?"
It had cut her. He knew it when she turned her head down to gaze at her hands laying half-open in her lap. A part of him wanted to tell her to get out of this life and to run as far away as she could, but Kaiba believed deep down that everyone had to live out their choices. He was living proof of it. There was no saving either one of them. He walked away.
As he passed the mama-san, he paused for a moment and thanked her for her hospitality. She nodded and ritualistically responded in kind for him gracing the establishment. All old politeness. All of it was going through the motions and meant absolutely nothing.
He could hear girls whispering to one another just beyond him in the rooms along the hallway. Even though they were too low to make out what they were saying, he was sure he just ruined the career of the girl he had rejected. Maybe it would be better for her this way. Maybe it wouldn't. But then, did it really matter in the end.
Taking a deep breath of the clean air after exiting the club, Kaiba looked down the street toward the main avenue. People still milled about, even at this late hour, under the multicolored neon lights. He should be out there. One of the young partying under an artificial day and laughing as he drank his sorrows away.
"Mister Kaiba?" His driver spoke up, diverting him from the groups just out of reach.
Nodding, Kaiba slipped into the car. Putting his hands behind his head, he watched as they drove pass the crowds. People his age were laughing and playing. He thought ruefully of the choices he had made. At twenty, nearing twenty-one, he already lived the life of a hardened CEO. There was no true childhood for him, he supposed. These kids had their excuses and fun while he slaved day and night for the purpose of his company to give one kid a future. If he didn't, then that would mean he had wasted his entire life all ready. That would be unacceptable.
They arrived back at his mansion. Most of the lights were out and Kaiba was glad for that. It would mean everyone would be sleeping except the night staff. His footsteps echoed on the concrete steps to the entrance. It seemed strangely empty. Looking up at his home, the home he had taken for himself and brother, Kaiba felt a creeping chill make its way up his spine.
He had heard somewhere, maybe some television program on a flight, that the past could cling to a building. No matter how much washing and changing, if you did not destroy the home it made itself that it could return as a poltergeist. After two very strange trips to Egypt, he was willing to accept it as a remote possibility and not outright charlatanism. There were nights he would wake up in a cold sweat and swear he could hear whispers.
A sliver of light began to expand from between the double doors. A tuxedoed figure stood there in the glow, waiting for him. It was Kaiba's trusted butler, Kioshi. Only he had any idea what Kaiba could end up going through when the meeting left the boardroom. The older man gave him a nod, silent understanding of Kaiba's need for silence.
Allowing the butler to service him, Kaiba sat down on the bench in the genkan and let his shoes be removed and replaced by house slippers. It was perfunctory, but welcomed, service. As he entered further into the house, Kioshi stopped him.
"I can prepare you something to eat, if you would like, Master Kaiba."
Queasiness settled into Kaiba's stomach at the mention of food. He shook his head. "That will not be needed. I'm not hungry tonight."
A bow, another one of those nods, and Kioshi disappeared into another part of the house, leaving Kaiba with his thoughts. Sighing, Kaiba ran a hand through his brown hair. He was still wired from the cocaine earlier. When he removed his hand, he stared at it as the fingers shook ever so slightly. He scoffed at himself.
Wandering toward his bedroom, Kaiba pulled off his jacket. Smells of tobacco wafted from the fine white silk. Bringing it too his nose, he sniffed it and grimaced. He'll have to trash this suit, he thought to himself. It'll just end up being another line item to the expense report.
He went into his room and was completely surrounded by oceanic shades of soft blue and white furnishings. Peeling off his tie, he threw it to the ground along with his jacket. Kioshi would see to them in the morning. Flipping on his television, he tried to find relaxation through watching the latest stock reports coming in from around the world. Usually, he was satisfied with what he saw, but tonight, it didn't matter.
Clicking the controller, he turned it off and stood up. Pacing the room, he tried to sort through his thoughts from earlier. Kaiba didn't want to face what he had been remembering. Those thoughts tended to stay in the back of his mind and only wake him up at night. It was like he was living out his own nightmares while awake. It upset him. He thought he had buried them down.
Snatching a robe out of his closet, he decided he would take a shower. He needed to get the stink of the club off of his skin anyways. The sensation of being soiled did not sit well with him. It reminded him too much of the past. Something he didn't want to think about at the moment.
Exiting his room with robe in hand, Kaiba looked across the way to Mokuba's room. His heart constricted with brotherly love. He would do anything to protect his brother from the sorrows of the world. It was a promise that he made to him when they were children in the orphanage. It was the promise he kept when he suffered at the hands of their benefactor and the same that led him down this path of corporate intrigue and after-hours deals and espionage. It was also why Mokuba had no idea what went on after the office negotiations.
Pressing his forehead against the door, Kaiba whispered, "Let him enjoy his innocence just a bit longer…"
Turning away, he noticed that the light under Bakura's door was out. He went and touched a hand to that door. Not even twenty-four hours ago he was in this room restraining the other man from the demons of his nightmares. Kaiba knew he was not a charitable man. Many thought he was because of the free admission for orphaned children to the Kaiba Land facilities. However, he knew he wasn't. Frowning, he supposed the only reason he relented with Bakura was because in a way, he was now just as much an orphan as they were. But that didn't explain why he had kissed him. He put that thought away just as fast as it came.
He continued down the hall to the bathing room, pass other closed doors and expressionless walls. In a way, he find the bleakness soothing to his weary soul. Nothing to stare back at him with accusing eyes that would place blame or weakness on him. Just plain ordinary white walls to greet him.
When he flipped the lights on in the bathing room, everything became washed in bright artificial light. He stripped off the rest of his clothes without fanfare. They pooled onto the ground in a cascade of white silk that he stepped away from. He started the water to the shower, turning the hot as high as he could get it. As steam filled the room, a small wave of dizziness and nausea hit him all at once.
Staggering, he leaned against the wall with closed eyes. Breathing through his nose and out with his mouth, he forced it to abate. All he wanted to do was to get to get clean and then crawl under his sheets to sleep. Biting his lip, the pain bringing some extra clarity, he plunged back under the hot spray. He reached for soap and a sponge, lathering his chest quickly.
When he looked down at his body, he became perturbed to discover a perfect red circle around his cock. Kaiba began to scrub harder against his body to get rid of the offending lipstick. Even though it was quickly washed away, he continued to scrub himself with as much force as he could muster. He couldn't stop himself nor did he want to stop. Kaiba wanted it all off of him. Every shame and touch from that evening, he wanted it to wash away and stay off of him.
Before he could stop it, vomit suddenly spewed out of his mouth and onto the pristine tiles. He collapsed into his own sickness as another wave of dizziness struck him. Hot water pounded his back as he continued to retch all the booze from the club. Weakness spread out across his limbs, and he could barely keep himself on his hands and knees. His vomit was quickly washed away into the drain.
Over the sounds of his vomiting, a memory came into his mind. It was the one memory he did everything he could to avoid and the one that always came back. In the shower. Crying. Eleven years old. Heavy footfalls coming up behind him. A cruel laugh. That heavy hand.
"No... I don't want to remember." His voice was strangled.
"Seto." It was Gozaburo's voice. "What do you think you are doing?"
He thought he was safe in here and that no one would find him crying in the shower. He stuttered when he tried to reply. "Father... I'm... I..."
"Crying? You think you are allowed to cry in my house?" The man yelled at him, his voice bellowing and echoing in the bathing room.
"No, no. I'm not crying. Only boys cry. I just have soap in my eyes. I swear!" Kaiba tried to backpedal, plead with the angry man standing in front him.
Whack! A slap across young Kaiba's face. The older man's hand left a red imprint upon his cheek that burned.
"Lying brat. If you persist to act like a woman, then I will teach you to be a woman."
"What? What do you mean!" Fear seized his heart. He had heard stories in the mansion. There were terrible stories of what his adopted father did to women that were told between the household staff. Many a young maid had disappeared from the mansion after being tempted to share a night with Gozaburo.
"Hmph... maybe it's Mokuba who should be taught. Of the two of you, he is the most girlish. Maybe I should give him my undivided attention."
More tears stung his eyes and as they fell on his quickly bruising cheek, the young Kaiba shook his head. He cried out to his adopted father, "Please, Father! Don't hurt Mokuba!"
He couldn't let them treat Mokuba the way they had been treating him. Kaiba hadn't slept properly for days. He was awakened by Gozaburo's manservant every few hours for this lesson or that. He didn't want his little brother to be whipped like he was because he spelled something wrong or did some calculation incorrectly. Kaiba had promised. It didn't matter what it was, he would take whatever was done to him if it would only protect Mokuba.
As the hot water sprayed down him, Kaiba felt anger begin to surge into his limbs. Punching the tile in front of him, Kaiba wordlessly cried to himself. He fought against the memory of his past and the weakness he had felt that horrible night almost ten years ago. It never went away. It was always there ready to devour him when he was feeling weak. He could never allow himself to be weak again because of it. If he could just keep winning, it would never happen again.
Isn't that why that man did what he did to him. It was to teach him to be a stronger man, because if he was going to be weak, he would be useless to everyone. He had to be strong for the corporation, and he had to be strong for Mokuba. There was no choice in the matter. Kaiba could never display weakness.
"Kaiba?" It was Bakura's quiet, concerned voice.
He couldn't hear him over the roar of his own blood and the water's spray coming down on him. Kaiba trembled like he was freezing even though his skin was already burning and raw from the shower. The hard, unfeeling tiles continued to take his rage.
Wearing just a nightshirt, Bakura had awakened from a near-nightmare. It was just enough that he decided he wasn't going to go back to sleep. Instead, he thought he might sit in a bath for awhile and try to keep himself from having another panic attack like he did earlier and the night before. His nerves were still spent from the events of the last couple of days.
He and Mokuba had a long conversation over dinner that left very few answers to his questions. All Mokuba really could tell him was that their adopted father was cruel and pushed Seto so hard that he felt the bastard had destroyed the carefree brother he had as a little child. As a result, when Gozaburo committed suicide, Kaiba had all family photographs of them with the man removed from the house and ordered that no family photographs be put on the walls. Mokuba had been happy to have Gozaburo removed from the walls, but he couldn't understand why no new pictures were allowed to go up.
Now, he was in the unexpected position of seeing the same topic of their conversation upset and letting lose some sort of rage on the floor of the shower. Bakura never expected that Kaiba, a man who could be so cold, would be collapsed on the floor of his shower. He was worried he was going to bust his knuckles open when he didn't stop, but he wasn't sure what to do because Kaiba didn't respond to him.
Approaching Kaiba like he was a wild animal, Bakura tentatively called out to him again. No response except a choked sob and falling fist making its impact on the floor. It was like he was caught in a nightmare similar to the ones the white-haired man. However, nightmares was something he could understand. Reaching out to Kaiba, Bakura did what he thought might help. A simple touch might bring Kaiba back from whatever demons were haunting him.
When Bakura's hand touched Kaiba's shoulder, he became deadly still for the space of a second before spinning around and throwing Bakura to the floor. Stars erupted in front of Bakura's eyes when his head connected with the hard shower tiles. Icy fear quickly replaced the shock as he watched Kaiba rear back with a closed fist. Bakura tried to scream, but nothing come out of his mouth. He then tightly closed his eyes from that deadly and unseeing blue stare, waiting for whatever would come next.