To paraphrase Louise Rosenblatt, "a story's just ink on a page until a reader comes along to give it life." This in my way of saying, I'd really like to know what you think.
MANGA/ANIME NOTE: When everyone arrives at Alcatraz (the island where the Battle City finals are to be held) Yugi, Kaiba, Jounouchi and Malik fight a four way duel, named "Battle Royale" to determine which pairs will face off in the semi-final rounds. The two who lose their life points the fastest will fight the first semi-final match, the remaining two will fight the second, with the winners of these two matches facing off in the finals. Yami has reasons to fight with each of the other three first. He has promised Kaiba a match and wants to test their God Cards against each other, and he wants to stop Malik as soon as possible. But once the match starts, rather than playing to win, at first he plays to protect Jounouchi, deciding that the only way to protect him from Malk is by being his first opponent. Kaiba is predictably furious, and Jounouchi himself rejects the move.
CHAPTER 21: THE ORPHEUS CONUNDRUM
Fairy tales seem like such splashily enterprising things, full of danger and magical beasts and almost unimaginable events. Yet, for all the activity surrounding them, the characters themselves spend most of their time perfecting the art of waiting. Leaving Sleeping Beauty and Snow White undisturbed, even the Beast had to wait, however gracelessly and impatiently, for his Beauty to arrive to save the day.
But what if you know that the happy ending you secretly crave is the one that will never come true? And what if the day you are working towards is the very day that you hope will never arrive?
MOKUBA'S NARRATIVEDrills were over for the day. Mahaado was a good teacher, if a strict one – although he had nothing on my brother in that department. I was still the worst fighter out there, but I'd gotten better. I was learning to use my shorter size to my advantage. I just hoped it would be enough. Landing in the middle of a duel would be cool – but the thought of winding up in some bizarre battle best left in a video game was too weird (and scary) for words. But if that's the way the cards fell, I wanted to make sure Nisama didn't kill himself trying to protect me.
I headed back to Kisara's aerie for lunch. She usually spent the morning sunning herself on the rocky ledge of her cliff and watching the town. I liked eating with her. She always managed to rustle up some food for me and it was fun seeing her wolf down whatever she'd caught for herself. I'd never seen a dragon eat before. With big animals, Kisara was impressively messy and equally efficient. Smaller ones, she'd pop in her mouth whole. I was just glad she wasn't eating them alive.
Besides, I liked touching base with her.
I heard voices as I approached. Hers and Mahaado's. I would have let them know I was there, but they were talking about me and Mana.
"There is truth in your words, and comfort as well – but I worry nonetheless," Mahaado was saying.
"Do you think anyone the High Priest had the raising of would be lacking in honor or careless of those he holds dear?" Kisara asked, but not like she expected an answer. I know a rhetorical question when I hear one.
"No, of course not," Mahaado answered anyway. "But regardless of what the pharaoh may decide, these three will leave. And Mana will miss him."
"The only way to guard against grief is to barricade your heart so thoroughly that nothing may enter. Is that what you want for her? And even that, as Kaiba discovered when the pharaoh left him, is not a sure safeguard against hurt."
"That is the last thing I would wish. You know that. It seems my fears have no answer."
"Fears of the heart rarely do. But perhaps this will teach her to see our world through new eyes."
"I would like that." I couldn't see Mahaado's face, but I could hear the smile in his voice as he added, "You think I should do the same, don't you, my old friend and nemesis?"
Kisara snorted.
"I thought to serve my pharaoh forever," he continued.
"You have in the past. You may still serve him in the future."
"As a card, not as a man," Mahaado said.
"We do not always get to choose the method of our service," Kisara observed.
"Is this wisdom or experience talking?" Mahaado parried, as if they were on the training field and he was still sparring.
"Is it not wisdom to learn from experience?" Kisara countered, softly.
"True enough," Mahaado acknowledged. "And anything is possible. Over the years I have even grown to appreciate talking to a dragon."
Kisara snorted again.
I also know an exit line when I hear one, so I started backing down the path so Mahaado wouldn't realize I'd overheard them. We met halfway down from the cliff top. Mahaado nodded in greeting as he passed me.
I didn't say anything. I wasn't going to admit I'd listened in, and besides, I agreed with him about Mana. As fun as being with her was – that's how much I was going to miss her when we left. We both knew that. It just didn't make sense to mope until that day came. Besides, it was easier to forget all that than you'd think.
It'd been weird hearing Kisara talking to Mahaado, though. She'd been Nisama's dragon to me. We'd talked about kissing and Nisama and everything, but even after seeing her as a girl, I still hadn't really thought about her as a person.
Kisara nodded in greeting as I reached the top of the cliff.
"How come you don't like being a girl?" I blurted out.
She raised an eye ridge at that.
"A human girl," I corrected myself.
"Human bodies are so fragile… so easily broken," she said quietly.
"What if you'd… you know… stayed alive back then? Which would you have picked?" I asked.
"If I had survived to see Seto rule, if I had lived past the pharaoh's death… I do not know whether there would have been anything to tempt me to stay human."
"Huh?"
"I think only love could have proven to be so strong a lure, but no one can predict how or if love will grow. Some loves seem fated, others equally destined never to come to flower."
She'd managed to lose me again. I couldn't see what difference the pharaoh's death would have made, or why we were suddenly talking about love. I have to admit though, incomprehensible as her words were, something in the way she said them made her sound, for the first time, like a girl instead of a dragon.
"But things are as they are," she continued briskly. "My human form died. I became a dragon, and have chosen to remain so. I am content."
She hadn't really answered my question, but I'd lived with Nisama long enough to know – it was all the answer I was going to get.
KAIBA'S NARRATIVEYami was sleeping. It was easier when he was asleep. I didn't have to feel his eyes on my back as I walked ahead. And there was something about watching him sleep, about staying awake myself, that felt right. It was what I was used to. I just wished it wasn't so quiet.
There are times when reality stares you in the face, and it takes all your willpower not to blink.
Not that it mattered. When I closed my eyes, I could see my father's car speeding towards that tree. But the picture always faded out anyway from lack of details. The police report on the crash had been too sparse. It hadn't been worth the time and effort I'd expended to get it. They'd noted the tire marks on the road at the crash site, but hadn't described them. Were they skid marks… the rubber transferring itself to the pavement as he tried to stop or swerve out of the way? Or were they the result of a sudden acceleration? Did they lead straight towards their goal?
And I didn't need to close my eyes to see that day in the orphanage. It had started out routine. Another day, another family to evade. I wondered when the Director would give up. I wasn't leaving Mokuba no matter how many 'parents' he dangled in front of my face.
But these two were different. I'd liked them. Most couples I'd met were interested in adopting a genius child – as if that would make them any smarter, themselves. But the man didn't try to bullshit me. And although the woman was letting her husband do the talking, you could tell they'd discussed everything beforehand. They were a team. You'd be surprised how rare that is, even among people who are officially paired.
"I'm sorry. Meeting a prospective parent must be awkward for you. I know it is for me," he said.
I shrugged. "I'm used to it."
They smiled at that, but they were sad smiles. She really did have a nice face. Mokuba would like her. I stopped. It wouldn't do to get ahead of myself.
"We were never lucky enough to have children. We have a house, but it is said that a child is what makes a house into a home. We have a small business I inherited from my father. I'd like to see it continue." He looked at his wife and swallowed. "We'd like a son," he concluded quietly.
He'd said that last bit calmly, but you could tell it was important. He wasn't pretending it was love at first sight for either of us, though. I approved.
"I understand you have a brother here, but that he will soon be leaving himself," he said.
"Who told you that?" I asked.
The man and the woman looked at each other, puzzled. "The Director. We asked him because we only have the resources to provide for one child. It's a big responsibility. He said that your brother was being adopted by another family…"
"He lied," I said flatly. "I want to be with my brother."
There. My cards were on the table.
"I'm sorry," the man said, standing.
I'd tried talking people into a two for one deal before. It had never worked. But those people had all been looking for a trophy. These two seemed to want a kid. For the first time I considered begging.
"His name is Mokuba," I said. "Do you want to meet him?" If they met him, I knew they'd agree.
The man shook his head. "We don't have the resources or the energy to care for two children," he said. It was only then that I noticed how much older he was than my father had been.
"You wouldn't have to pay any attention to him, and he could wear my old clothes. It wouldn't cost much more money, and I'd pay you back when I got old enough." I'd meant to state my proposition calmly, but the words came out in a rush.
The woman smiled. I could see she wasn't going to take me seriously. "Children are not stray puppies or kittens," she said.
I snorted. Clearly, she'd had a lot less experience with the process than I had.
"It's true," she insisted, as they left. "You deserve someone willing and able to care for you both. I'm sure you'll find someone."
In the end they'd adopted another boy. He hadn't been useful enough to be an ally, but he hadn't been a bully either. He was what people called "a nice kid"… in other words, a mediocrity. By their standards, they'd made a good choice.
They'd been surprised the Director had lied to them. I wondered what it'd be like to be that old and still think people had a sense of honor. In a way I was glad Mokuba wasn't going to grow up with them. If he absorbed their childish beliefs, they could only hold him back. As for me – I had Mokuba. I didn't need a sense of honor.
There'd been something else odd about that day. Mokuba had noticed my abstraction. It was the first time he'd said anything about the offers I'd turned down.
"You liked them, didn't you?" he asked.
"They were okay."
"I'm sorry, Nisama."
"What are you talking about?" I demanded.
"If it wasn't for me…"
"If it wasn't for you, I'd have nothing. Never forget that," I said fiercely.
He snuggled into my arms, warm as a stray puppy.
The sweetest moments of my life have always led to the bitterest. I have never felt so complete, so peaceful, as lying there in that orphanage bed, with Mokuba in my arms. It had rarely been so easy to drift off since that night.
But when I woke up the next morning, I knew what I had to do. Meeting that family, seeing how decent they were, had convinced me of one thing: decency wasn't in the cards for Mokuba or me. And anyone brainless enough to think that stray kids weren't as expendable as stray puppies, was too stupid to be of use to me.
It all came down to control. I'd been, despite my best efforts, a dumb, stupid kid, hoping for someone to come and rescue us, to do for me what I should be doing for myself. My last doubts had left the room with that couple.
It didn't matter if my father had left skid marks or acceleration ones on that icy road. He had also left me Mokuba. We had ended up here. And if I was going to win a true future for us, I wasn't going to do it by relying on other people's sense of decency. I'd be better off preying on their weaknesses instead. That was the way the world worked.
I'd finally figured it out. I knew all about anger and wounded pride. They were strong emotions, but they could also be easily manipulated, and it was time for me to be the one pulling the strings for a change.
I'd finally figured it out. If I wasn't going to be able to convince anyone decent to adopt Mokuba and me – if no one sane could possibly want us -- then I'd look for the biggest, craziest, richest bastard I could find… and make him pay.
I'd succeeded beyond my wildest expectations.
No matter how crazy things with Gozaburo had gotten afterwards, no matter how psychotic I'd gotten, I'd always felt in control. After all, it had been my plan, right from the start.
But that had been another illusion.
"I'm sorry," Seto said quietly.
He was in front of me, shadowy but distinct, even in the dark. Something had to be up. Seto and I weren't two separate people, not like Yami and Yugi were. Seto was more like some hidden part of my mind and he usually acted like it, content to curl up in some corner of my consciousness.
"What the fuck are you sorry for?" I snarled. "Gozaburo was my choice. So was this. If I made a sucker's deal here, I have no one to blame but myself."
"The pharaoh sacrificed himself for me. I lived with that burden, only to find that after death I bequeathed the payment for that gift to you," he said. "I was the one others gave their lives for… the one the man I loved gave his life for… and what has your life been, if not a sacrifice in the service of the ones you love? Perhaps my road made your road much harder."
"Bullshit," I answered. "I made my own choices. I saw a way out of the orphanage and I took it – regardless of consequences. That was my decision and the consequences are mine to live with." I thought of Mokuba saying that Yami had done Yugi no favors (a statement I agreed with wholeheartedly) and said, "If meeting you has taught me anything, it's that I prefer my road to yours. If you want to think in terms of inheritances – maybe that's the knowledge you gave me.
He shook his head. "I wanted this chance so badly, but the gods will exact their price for every gift granted. Once again though, I was not the one called upon to pay that price. The life I caused you to be born into was such a harsh one."
"You hear me complaining?"
"No, but I fear it left you with scant resources."
I paused, considering the note of guilt in his voice and wondering how much more he had to be guilty about. After all, Pegasus' most public offense – trying to take over Kaiba Corporation – had also been his most minor.
"This is all working out according to plan, isn't it?" I said slowly. "After all, when this is all over, I'll be heading back, Yami will be staying… and you'll have your body back."
"Do you accuse me of deliberately concealing my cards? This world does not work that way. My soul, if you will, went into the making of yours. No matter what world you reside in, I can not assume physical form as long as you live, and maybe not even after. I ceded that right to you."
I grunted in acknowledgement, uncomfortable with being on the receiving end of such a gift.
"It was not a gift," Seto said. "It was a necessity."
Seto had wanted his pharaoh badly enough to give up his life. I'd wanted Yami enough not to care how much it hurt afterwards. And Yami… what had he wanted?
I didn't want to think about it. It was time to get up. We still had a job to do.
I was glad this was ending soon.
YAMI'S NARRATIVEIt was very early in the morning, and we were covering the distance to the second site quickly now. We'd been taking shorter breaks. Kaiba had stopped pretending to sleep and I hadn't pushed the matter. Now, Kaiba had picked up the pace again, and I was almost running to keep up with his long strides.
It was disconcerting. Without realizing it I had grown used to the routine of the trek out here; walking with Kaiba at my side, talking with him, loving him. But something had changed from the moment we'd spotted Set's base camp, though I wasn't sure what or why.
"Let's just get this the hell over with. I'm sick of this mission. It's boring," Kaiba had said. Then he had stalked away from the site as if the ground or air had poisoned him; he'd marched away without looking back, without another word.
His silence now had an angry, resentful quality to it. It reminded me of our early duels, when our cards had done our talking for us, when Kaiba's few cryptic sentences had seemed to linger in my ear, their meaning just out of reach.
At times I wanted to upbraid him, if only to break the silence, if only to make him react. But how could I challenge him when my own course was so unclear? So I had remained as wordless as he.
The silence had continued, even after we had stopped during the night, even when we had made love – if you could call it that. Kaiba had grabbed me when we stopped for the night, kissing me without looking at me. I'd say he'd been going through the motions, except he'd been as feverishly intent as he'd been quiet.
Then he'd said my name: Yami
Three times.
First, he'd said it challengingly, daring me to correct him, to tell him I was Atemu, not Yami. Then he'd said it as if it was a gift, as if he was giving it back to me. Finally he'd whispered it in my ear as he came, as if he was unlearning it, as if he was leaving it behind.
For once, sex didn't make me feel closer to him, but alienated, as if he was moving away from me in the midst of our union.
That didn't stop me from wanting him. It hadn't stopped me from enjoying it.
I was the King of Games, but suddenly, I no longer knew the rules.
Was I truly called here for no purpose other than this war? And if my fate was in my own hands as Yugi had claimed, what of my destiny then?
I was tired of blundering through the fog, weary of an existence where questions were piled on top of questions, replacing the answers I'd thought I'd found. Perhaps this was part of life, to crave a clearly marked path where none existed.
I thought of Kaiba wondering if destruction was the essence of fatherhood, and then forging ahead regardless, trying to raise Mokuba as if those doubts, that knowledge, didn't exist; stumbling forward with an almost willful blindness. Perhaps we all go through life without roadmaps, each in his own way.
But if this unsettled feeling was part of life, did I want to join an existence that felt so rootless? It was as if I'd been given a body only to feel uncomfortable within my own skin.
And yet, it would be a challenge…
As ever, something in my heart lifted at the thought of facing a life long challenge. Was that fated as well? Or was it simply so deeply a part of me that I could no longer tell? Kaiba found it easy to sneer at the idea of destiny, but my allotment of hubris was not so great.
And so, I couldn't give Kaiba the answer he hadn't asked for. After having searched so long and hard for my memories, was I now willing to declare them meaningless? What of my other name, the name Kaiba never used… the name I, myself, shied away from?
"Do you miss it? Your name, I mean?" I called out to Kaiba. He slowed down enough for me to catch up with him, for us to walk abreast.
"How could I miss something I get called every day?" he asked irritably.
"I meant your real name."
"Kaiba is my real name," he growled. "I wanted it. It was my choice – all of it."
"Much as you like to pretend otherwise, events are sometimes beyond your control."
"What I couldn't control was the price. I could only pay it."
"Don't pretend you knew what you were getting into."
He stopped then, turned to face me, and said, "And don't you dare to play the victim to anything – not fate, not man. The only reason I survived was because I was the one setting events into motion, because every decision was mine – and no one, not Gozaburo, and not you, can take that away from me."
I was surprised. Kaiba had rarely spoken of Gozaburo, even when we had been talking. You could see the man's imprint on Kaiba only in the tracks he had left behind. But hearing Gozaburo's name reminded me of the Battle City Finals.
It's funny how we see some things only in retrospect. Kaiba hadn't been this angry since the Battle Royale at Alcatraz, since Malik, Jounouchi, Kaiba, and I had faced off in four separate elevators on the way to the top of his duel tower.
By his standards, I'd owed Kaiba a duel – the first semi final match. It was what I wanted as well… playing against him, God Cards in both our hands. But once the four-way match started, I hadn't thought of desires or rivalries or obligations… I hadn't seen anything beyond Yugi's need to protect his friend. And the only way I could do that was by making sure that Jounouchi didn't face Malik; that I was his opponent instead. I had seen what had happened to the last three duelists to challenge his God card. But it was a move Kaiba derided and Jounouchi himself rejected.
And Kaiba… what had Kaiba seen?
I probably should have asked before. But how could I? Back then we had only talked through our cards.
"I owed Jounouchi a duel, as well," I said suddenly to Kaiba. "And I didn't know it would take two God Cards to defeat Malik. I assumed you and I would face each other in the finals."
"You deliberately played less than your best. The reason doesn't matter," Kaiba said.
"How can the reasons never matter when they are what drive us?"
"It was a duel," Kaiba said as if that ended the matter.
"It was a duel but not a game," I answered. "I could not ignore the consequences. I trusted you to survive Malik. I didn't think you could be defeated by an opponent whose only weapon seemed to be mere darkness."
"It was supposed to be every man for himself," Kaiba said stubbornly.
"You may have believed that at Death-T, but never before or since. After what you said at Duelist's Kingdom, after all you have done for Mokuba – are you going to pretend that you duel solely for yourself?"
"That's different. We're brothers," Kaiba said curtly.
"And what if you discovered tomorrow that no shared blood flowed in your veins? Would you disown him? You categorize things only so you can dismiss them more easily."
"Leave Mokuba out of this!" Kaiba ordered.
"Yugi's heart is so large, I think he considers all of humanity his brother," I said thoughtfully. "Is yours really so narrow that you are incapable of caring for anyone else? I don't believe that."
"What of you?" Kaiba asked sarcastically. "If your idea of friendship takes in all the world through three thousand years, hasn't it become so diluted that its meaning is lost?"
"Do you truly think that of me?" I demanded.
For the first time Kaiba refused to meet my gaze. He looked down instead, slightly, unconsciously, shaking his head with the movement. I felt my heart slow to its normal pace. For an instant I had wondered if he was right. But whatever he might pretend, Kaiba did not believe the accusation he'd just hurled at me. Why he had done so was a mystery I intended to solve before the day grew longer.
Kaiba shrugged and began walking again. "I don't know why you're bringing up this ancient history anyway."
"Hardly ancient," I replied.
"One day or 3,000 years – the past is the past."
"How can you pretend the past is dead and buried when Seto's voice is a part of you?" I asked incredulously.
"What difference does that make? So are Gozaburo's and Pegasus'. All the voices in my head are mine, now. Seto's welcome to join the crowd."
"And you see no difference between them?" I challenged.
Kaiba shrugged again. "I don't believe in chasing the past," he said.
"Running from it is just as futile. For how long will you continue to deny that the road you are walking – for all that you have carved it step by step – stretches in two directions?"
Kaiba scowled.
"And yet," I acknowledged, "I, too, have learned just how wasteful chasing the past can be, how you can search for your past so hard that you let your future slip by. Maybe that's why so many stories warn us not to look back. I can vaguely remember hearing them as a child, falling asleep to their warnings. But the past is what shapes us; we carry it with us every day we live… and beyond. How can we deny it, without denying ourselves?"
"Maybe there are some parts of ourselves that we should deny," he said shortly.
"But those dark places are not the sum of our being, any more than the past is the sum of our existence," I answered. "I will not believe that. And what of you? For how long will you see Mokuba's future and ignore your own?"
"What difference does that make, as long as I see a future?" he asked irritably.
"Because then, it's not yours, and no matter how much you strive towards it, you will never reach it. I know what it's like not to have a future. I thought it belonged to Yugi, not me. I thought I had a destiny, instead. My own feelings seemed of little account."
"You don't owe me an explanation. We don't owe each other anything," Kaiba said fiercely.
"Don't we?"
Once again, I felt on the brink of understanding. Once again, Kaiba did not respond. He picked up the pace, instead. I wondered if that was my answer. We reached the second site in silence. As Kaiba had predicted, it was only an outpost. There were tents but no settled dwellings. Since it was much closer to the edge of Set's land than his headquarters had been, he had probably found it a convenient staging area for scouting parties and raids.
It was still early. There was no activity from the camp below us. I had expected Kaiba to look triumphant at being proved right. Instead he looked angrier than ever, a hint of thunder in his face. I was eager for the storm to break. I could feel my anger rising to match his, as I heard him say, "I told you so"… as I watched him turn on his heel and stalk off in the wrong direction, away from the town where Yugi and Mokuba were awaiting our return… away from the settlement I had not quite learned to call home.
Thanks to Bnomiko for betaing this chapter. I changed it a little after getting it back, so any mistakes are, as always, mine.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: Bnomiko made a comment while betaing about Kaiba denying that the road he's on stretches in two directions, a metaphor I liked so much, I couldn't resist using it!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The anime makes it clear that Seto turned down many (probably saner) families on the road towards becoming Seto Kaiba, because these families inevitably rejected the idea of adopting Mokuba as well. I think there must have been a moment when he decided to stop relying on fate to throw a more compliant family his way, and decided to take more control of the process himself. I think this must have been a bitter moment for him because it must have felt like a rejection, all the more strongly because I doubt he would, even at that age, have acknowledged that was what he was feeling. And it probably stung because the person being rejected was not himself, but Mokuba. (Ironically, I think if he had found a nice, sane family willing to love Mokuba, that would have opened up a whole new set of issues…)
Also for someone with Kaiba's need to try and control events, even when those events are quite obviously wildly outside of his control, waiting for someone to want to adopt them must have seemed interminable. Both the manga and the anime make it clear that Seto researched Gozaburo before challenging him. I think, for him to have selected Gozaburo as a candidate, he must have already discounted looking for warmth or kindness as a factor in selecting a father figure, because you can see that Mokuba takes one look at him and is leery of this whole idea, but I think by then, Seto had dismissed the whole idea of finding a family as, if you'll excuse the pun, a fairy tale.