I'm gonna say it now - I don't know much about the Japanese legal system. I did do research and I learned a bit about youth justice which was cool, and now my web history is probably messed up enough to concern anyone who looked at it, but I have no clue what they'd really do in this situation, so I filled in the gaps with what I know of legal proceedings in other countries. Hopefully I didn't miss the mark too far or offend anyone too terribly.

That aside, onwards and upwards. Please enjoy, and feel free to leave me any comments that you have xx


"Hey!" Mokuba shook the metal bars separating him from the outside world. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

"Quiet, brat!" A police officer hit the bars with his baton, causing Mokuba to step back and frown at the man, who smirked and turned to walk away.

"You can't do this!" Mokuba called after him. "My big brother is Seto Kaiba! He'll come for me – then you'll be sorry!"

The officer's smirk morphed into a chilling laugh. "Look at you, playing dumb. Do you think a plea of insanity will save your sorry hide or something?"

"What do you mean?" Mokuba demanded.

"Your brother…" The officer turned to face him. "…is dead."

"What?" Mokuba leapt at the bars. "You're lying! You're a liar! There's no way! How could that even happen?"

"You ought to know," the officer spat.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He pulled out his phone and showed it to Mokuba. The video that played made the boy sick to his stomach.

There stood Seto, standing at the podium, giving the speech that Mokuba had heard him rehearse a thousand times. Someone approached him then – but not just someone. It was him. It was Mokuba. Weird. I have no recollection of this.

Mokuba watched as his brother tried to speak to him, looking concerned – and as he drew a gun and shot Seto point-blank. A crimson patch marred his expensive suit and he collapsed, and then the video went all shaky and cut off suddenly, like the person who had been filming was interrupted.

"No," Mokuba whispered. It couldn't be. And yet, he'd just seen it with his own eyes.

"Now do you get it?" The officer snarled. "Filthy little murder."

"It's a fake. It has to be." But then Mokuba's ears picked up a noise. Someone was playing the radio, and the news bulletin he heard wiped any doubt from his mind.

"Returning to the top story, tributes continue to pour in for KaibaCorp CEO and renowned duellist Seto Kaiba, who was tragically shot dead by his brother yesterday. Paramedics did all they could at the scene but sadly Mr. Kaiba died in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. There's no word yet on what will happen to the company, which is known for providing gaming and entertainment around the world, but a spokesperson has said to us in the statement that the matter was under consideration by their top executives. As for Mokuba Kaiba, he remains in custody until-"

Mokuba couldn't bear to listen anymore, and he tuned out the newswoman's voice.

He dropped to his knees with his head bowed while his brain went haywire. He remembered getting in the car that morning…and then waking up in a cell apparently the next day. How could he have shot Seto? How could he have done it, and not remembered?

The officer left and Mokuba didn't try to argue with him any further. In fact, he didn't try to say anything at all. Whether he remembered it or not, the proof was there. He'd killed his big brother. His confidant and protector and pseudo-father…was gone.

Mokuba put his arms around his chest and backed into a corner, and there he stayed. He didn't speak, he didn't eat, and even when he was put in front of a public prosecutor a day later and he ruled that he'd be put on trial in a closed family court for his crime, he didn't so much as stir.

Beep…beep…beep…

Slowly, a pair of azure eyes opened, blinking against the harshness of the light. The man they belonged to tried to move, but was weighed down but various tubed and wires coming out of his body.

Groggy but aware nonetheless, Seto removed the mask from his face that had been feeding his aching body oxygen and attempted again to sit up, but a pain in his chest knocked him back down.

Where was he? What was going on?

Then he remembered. The ceremony…the gun…Mokuba…

"Mokuba!" Fighting through the pain, Seto sat up and called for his brother.

"Now, now, Mr. Kaiba. You mustn't move. You need your rest." A cold pair of unfamiliar hands settled on his chest and attempted to push him back, but Seto refused.

"What's going on? Where's my brother?"

"Hush, now. You're in hospital. You've had a nasty accident and have been unconscious for two weeks."

"Two-I can't have!" Seto shook his head. "I have a kid, who's been taking care of him? I mean, I'm not his father, but I'm all he's got. And Noah's probably scared witless. And my-ah!-my company? I don't-ahh!" Seto's head hit the pillow as pain shot through him once again. "I don't have time to be in hospital," he finished through gritted teeth.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," the woman – a nurse, he realised – explained. "You were shot in the chest, my dear. It took our best surgeons eight hours to repair the damage done. You're very lucky to be alive. The bullet missed everything vital by centimetres." She smiled kindly. "I'd imagine you're hungry. I'll get you some food."

"I don't want food, I want to see my brother!" he called after her, but she was already gone. With a groan that was a mixture of frustration and pain, Seto looked around the room.

Well, at first glance, it sure looked like a hospital. But something about the place didn't ring true. The windows in every hospital he'd ever been in were big and allowed for plenty of natural light, but these ones were small and too high to see out of. And the noise was another dead giveaway. Seto hadn't spent a lot of time in hospitals in his life, but he knew enough to know that they were loud; there were always the sounds of footsteps and chatter, wheels turning, people rushing – but beyond the machine registering his heart rate, Seto heard nearly nothing.

Did whoever's behind all this really think they could fool me?

He thrust the blanket off and stood up – but he was far from steady on his feet. With a growl of frustration, he rubbed his eyes, trying to will away the effects of the drugs in his system, and set about disconnecting himself from the drips and monitors that were wired to him like he was some sort of outlet.

Once he could move somewhat freely again – the wound still inhibited his movements – Seto searched his surroundings. He found some of his personal effects in a cupboard beside his bed; his locket, his wallet, but no phone, naturally. He then slipped on a clean shirt and turned his attention to finding something with which to defend himself. Whoever had him here, Seto doubted that their true priority was his health.

He eventually found an unused syringe and pulled the cap off. It wasn't a lot, but it'd do. Moving carefully, he waited by the doorframe. When the nurse – if she was indeed that – entered, Seto moved quickly, trapping her with one arm, and holding the syringe to her throat. He was in pain and therefore weakened, but just the same, the woman dropped her tray and didn't put up a fight.

"You have two options," Seto warned. "The first is that you tell me what's going on here. Tell me where I am, and where my brother is, and who is behind all this. The second is this in your neck. It's up to you."

Unfortunately, his threat seemed to be a little too effective, as the woman was rendered unable to speak out of fear. Seto rolled his eyes. "Forget it. I'm leaving and…well, I don't think you'll try and stop me."

He loosened his grip and, when she didn't fight him, Seto pushed her as far away from him as he could and ran for it. Evidently, whoever brought him here didn't expect him to get out of the bed, let alone the room, so he didn't meet any further resistance as he bolted from the building, one arm cradling his aching chest.

To himself, Seto vowed to see to it that this was the last time this person – whoever they were – underestimated him.


Next Chapter: The Ghost In The Courthouse

Before he could finish, the doors burst open, and a security guard stepped in. He seemed dazed and his eyes were wide, as though he'd seen…well, a ghost.

"What's the meaning of this?" the Judge demanded.

"My apologies, Your Honour, but I have someone here whose presence may have some bearing on what you're about to decide."

He stood aside and Seto stumbled into the room. Despite being pale, weak, and looking ready to fall down, his command of the room and the atmosphere within left no room for doubt that this was the man himself.