Holy Crud this was a long chapter. Hopefully there aren't any glaring mistakes that I missed in the writing of this, since I dumped it all out in two days.
Trigger warning for mentions of abuse and blood.
"Urggggggg." I groaned as the bright sun's rays of doom pierced through my eyelids. I turned my face into the pillow, snuggling deeper inside of the warm covers. With a small mental smile at beating mother nature, I started to sink back into the comfortable abyss of sleep.
Five seconds later, the blanket was violently dragged off of me.
Instantly, my hand shot out and grasped it before my other appendage imitated the action. I sent a sleepily glare towards the offender, Seto, who just returned it with an innocent smirk. As if smirks could be innocent, bastard...
"Seto…" I hissed, putting as much venom as I could into my voice while Mokuba shivered and curled up closer to me. God knows this place doesn't have heaters in any of the rooms, and it was currently early fall, which meant that it was colder than usual.
He dropped the blanket and I pulled it back over our cooling bodies as Seto rolled his eyes, seeming unaffected by the morning chill. Like some kind of demon. Which he was.
"Don't you remember what day it is?"
No...I don't-oh.
Right. We got adopted.
But it's still….I looked at the clock. Six-thirty in the morning. Which meant that we still had almost two more hours. More than enough time to pack our meager belongings.
Giving Seto a bright smile, I rolled back into bed.
"Risa." He deadpanned.
"Thirty more minutes," I replied, muffled from under the sheets. Mokuba made a small noise of agreement into my shoulder. He wasn't really supposed to be in my bed anyway, but exceptions are always made for cuties.
Seto sighed, but he knew there was no point in trying to drag us into doing something when we were both protesting. "Fine. But only thirty more minutes."
True to his word, the moment the clock read seven in bright red numbers, Seto yanked us all out of bed. It only took a few minutes for us to brush our teeth and get dressed, and then we started to pack.
Seto had already packed most of his belongings, which mainly consisted of worn down books, trophies and his clothing, in the duffle bag that the matrons gave us the night before. He had put Mokuba's clothes in there too, so I only added most of our money stash, along with Mokuba's two stuffed animals and both of their dueling cards.
The rest of the money and my clothes went into the bag from when we first entered the orphanage, which only left Mokuba's bouncy ball and the sheets that were too big to carry.
We had a quick mish-match breakfast of all the random snacks we didn't finish the days before, threw out the rest of our trash, and finally went to sit in the front room to wait for Mr. Kaiba to arrive. Seto had told me that his first name was Gozaburo, which matched well with his brutal appearance.
A couple of early birds gave us glares as they passed by, but didn't say anything.
Mokuba sat between us on the couch, swinging his legs and occasionally playing with his ball. I looked out the window, waiting for the sleek nose of a limousine to pull up.
It was strange to think of us finally leaving this place in this way. I had never really considered adoption as a real factor into our futures, but here we were. The change scared me a little.
I looked back at Mokuba and Seto, who also seem lost in their own thoughts. I wrap an arm around Mokuba and give my youngest brother a little side hug. He smiles and snuggles into it, and I smile back.
Well, even if we were technically part of a different family now, it was still our family. Risana Kaiba, Mokuba Kaiba, and Seto Kaiba.
Seto...Kaiba?
I…I know that name.
Yu...gioh?
All of the sudden, memories rushed to me. Seto Kaiba, Mokuba, a short main character with spiky hair, the pharaoh, golden items, trading cards-its been nearly fifteen years since the last time I watched that show and I could barely remember the plot-but this. This.
I…I was reborn into Yugioh. An anime. A show.
"Risa-nee?" The sound of Mokie's soft voice temporarily snapped me out of the thoughts and I turned to stare at him, looking at his fluffy black hair and pale skin a whole different way. Did this mean that none of this...of him...of us, was real?
Wait...
Is this all...
A dream?
I felt panic tighten in my chest, and my breaths got short. The walls felt as if they were closing in on me.
No, they can't be a dream! They had to be real! I can't...I can't do this, not if they didn't exist-
"R-Risa-nee?" Mokuba's voice stuttered a bit as he asked me with more concern.
"Risa? What's wrong?" Seto asked, noticing my mental breakdown.
Tearing my gaze from Mokuba, I faced Seto. This would be the famous Seto Kaiba. I could distinctly remember his exaggerated white outfit, but it didn't bring me any joy. Instead, I felt like crying.
Please let this be reality.
Please.
"Risa!" Seto snapped at me, grabbing my shoulder.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again.
"Seto. Pinch me please"
He blinked in confusion, but shrugged. Grabbing the skin of my arm, he dug his nails in until I yelped.
"OW, did you really have to do it that hard?! I think I'm bleeding." I screeched, grabbing my arm to cradle the bright red mark.
"You told me to pinch you." He said bluntly, but his eyes betrayed his concern.
I sniffed. "You cruel, cruel creature."
Regardless, it brought me back to the present.
That's right.
They might have been characters from a show once upon a time, but now they were real. Real, talking, breathing humans with feelings. Not just drawings and animations made by artists and editors anymore.
Most importantly, they were my brothers-and this didn't change that fact.
"What was that? Are you alright?" Seto calmly questioned me.
I took a deep breath. "Sorry." I said, trying to give them a reassuring smile. "Just...going through some...nerves."
Both of them gave me skeptical looks, but there was no way I could admit the truth.
A few minutes went by and we heard the faint crackling sound of gravel being crushed under heavy tires. Slowly standing, I helped Mokuba up as we gathered our stuff.
The doorknob turned and the brown wooden door pushed in with a soft creak to reveal a sharply dressed, brown-haired butler who stepped aside before Mr. Kaiba strolled in.
I scrutinized Gozaburo with a new perspective. For what I remember, he was not a good man. I couldn't recall any specifics, but I knew that Seto hated him. And if my pragmatic brother ever had a reason to dislike someone, it was likely for good reason.
In a split second, this whole thing turned into a possible nightmare.
Gozaburo looked us over, his thick brows pulled irately over his eyes, before ordering in a booming voice, "Ray, collect the children's things and put them in the back". The other man nodded and walked towards us as Gozaburo motioned for us to follow him. With a last glance towards our luggage, we did.
Another butler opened the door to the limo for us and I slid in after Mokuba, looking around.
Comfy yet professional-looking black leather seats lined the sides. The windows were shuttered off with black blinds, but lighting from the ceiling and sides made up for it.
We were loaded in and I gingerly sat down on the soft leather while everyone else piled in and the door shut behind us. The car smoothly started up with a soft purr a moment later and then we were on our way.
Gozaburo didn't make any indication of wanting to know us better, so instead we kept quiet and huddled together as the atmosphere became an awkward sort of tense.
When we arrived at our destination and cast our eyes upon the house for the first time, I had to hold back a gasp.
It was a mansion. A big, white mansion with many, many windows behind a tall, beautiful, intricate, black iron-wrought gate
We were quickly ushered inside, no time to truly admire the landscape before we were faced with the sight of a tall ivory-colored door carved with ornate, symmetrical designs on either side. The moment we stepped onto the front steps, it opened and revealed a line of maids on the left and right. Behind them was a large hall with a big, brilliant sparkling crystal chandelier hanging over it along with a long, thick red velvet carpet lined in gold draped along the spotless, shiny marble floor as we walked in.
"Welcome back, Master Kaiba." The maids bowed as we entered.
As we reached the end of the hall, Gozaburo split from the group.
"Master Kaiba has business he must attend to," Ray said as we watched the man disappear into one of the many halls. "I will show you around."
Ray led us up another extravagant set of red-coated stairs that led into a hallway interspaced with doors. We went down the right side, and Ray gestured down the hall, which was lined with six doors, three on each side.
"These shall be your rooms," He said, "You may choose whichever ones you wish. The maids will be by soon with a new change of clothing."
"Lunch is in two hours, Master Kaiba will be expecting you." He added, before turning on his heel and leaving.
Once his footsteps faded away, we stood in silence for a moment before, hesitantly, Seto reached out and opened up the first door as we all looked in with amazement. The room would have been able to fit at least three of the dining rooms in the orphanage side by side, and we all exclaimed in awe. Against the walls, there were tall windows that reached up to the ceiling, framed by velvet curtains. On the right, there was a large king-sized bed pressed against the wall, half-hidden by a canopy, and perpendicular to it was a large desk nearby the windows. The room was big enough that it even had a seating area of plush chairs encircling a glass coffee table near the entry.
There was a fluffy rug on the floor, and as we walked into the room and looked around, we found the large walk-in closet and bathroom.
We exchanged excited glances before hurrying and opening all the doors, looking into all the rooms.
They all had pretty much the same design and items, although some were rearranged in different positions to fit the direction the room faced. In the end, Seto decided on the second room on the right, I got the room facing his on the left, and Mokuba had the room next to mine.
Just like Ray had said, maids came by a few minutes after we've put away all our things.
We all split up to take a bath per the maid's orders before getting into our outfits.
I still admired the bathroom as I turned on the faucet for the giant ivory bathtub. The entire floor was marble, with wide and clear mirrors with sinks facing the bathtub and shower on the other side. The ceiling had two small sparkling chandeliers that illuminated the room, along with scones by the mirrors.
It was certainly the most luxurious bathroom that I had ever been in.
Grabbing one of the different body washes sitting on a tray at the edge of the bathtub, I popped open the cap and smelled the top.
Mm...the scent was faintly floral, but had a sweetness in it that was cognisant of the expensive way only high-quality products smelled. I picked my favorite of the six choices, one that was subtly rose-scented, and dumped a good amount into the running water.
Once the bath filled up, I checked the water temperature before getting ready and climbing in.
The water rose to my chin, and I hummed happily as the pleasant smell engulfed my senses. After relaxing for a few minutes, I chose a matching shampoo and scrubbed it into my hair, making sure every strand was clean.
Then, I regrettably had to drain the bath and finish conditioning my hair in the shower, leaving me squeaky clean.
Grabbing a fluffy pre-warmed towel from the stand nearby, I wrapped it around myself and dried off before going back into my bedroom. On my bed was a folded set of clothes.
Picking through it, I wrinkled my nose. It was a light pink dress with frills at the bottom, paired with tan tights and a small long-sleeved beige cardigan. Not really my first choice of an outfit, but I put it on without a complaint.
I brushed out my hair and blow dried it before taking in my full appearance in one of the floor length closet mirrors. It was definitely more formal than what I was used to wearing, which mostly consisted of the orphanage's set uniform of a long-sleeved shirt and skirt.
Fixing the slight curl of my bangs, I leave the room. Seto and Mokuba are already waiting, the former dressed in a light blue button up shirt with a tan vest and matching slacks while the latter mirrored him, except with a green shirt. We all had on formal shoes, black flats for me, and loafers for them.
Our outfits matched pretty well, and we let the maids lead us to the dining room. As we stood before the entrance, I checked over our appearances one more time, nervously, tucking an especially wild strand of Mokuba's hair down before the maids opened the door.
Gozaburo was already there, sitting at one end of a dinner table as he gestured for us to sit on the other. Maids pulled out the chair and we did as we were told. Seto ended up sitting at the end with me on his left and Mokuba and his right.
As if on cue, servants came in rolling trolleys, stopping them by the table and setting out platters of food that they slowly uncovered. My mouth started watering at the sight of food and other thoughts were pushed to the back of my head.
It wasn't exactly a feast, but it was pretty close. There was a variety of things including steak, lobster, salad, ham, corn, and rolls-just to name a few. The scent wafted over to me and I almost sighed in happiness. Any meals we had at the orphanage were fine, but I only knew about five proper recipes and there were only so many times you could cycle through that and the store's preset meal options. This, however, was high quality, delicious, and new.
I tried my best to contain myself as we filled our plates, resisting the urge to shovel it all into my mouth as fast as possible.
After a while, Gozaburo broke the silence. "Tomorrow all of you will start your classes. A schedule will be sent to each of you in the morning."
He looked up, and we all nodded our heads, although I had to admit I was more than distracted with the taste of the buttered filet mignon in my mouth.
"I expect you all to work hard and meet my expectations." He stated, ending it curtly in a way that left an unsaid threat at the end.
I swallowed my food, and all three of us picked up on the more serious atmosphere.
The silence lingered for a moment, the clinks of our silverware softer than before. Gozaburo wiped his mouth, and got up. With one last searing glance, he left the table without another word.
Seto and I exchanged looks.
I had no idea what to expect until I got my schedule, but I had a feeling it wasn't going to be anything nice.
The rest of dinner was finished fairly slowly, and when we finished, a maid escorted us back to our rooms before leaving.
I hesitated before entering my room, turning towards Seto and Mokuba who each stood at their own doors. "Good...night." I said, awkwardly.
This would be the first time we slept apart in, what, three years? It was just a little strange.
Seto and Mokuba echoed it back, and we all gave each other one last pause before quietly going into our own rooms.
Closing the door behind me, I flicked on the lights. Walking over to my bed, I saw that a cream nightgown had already been laid out for me. Taking off my clothes and folding them, I placed them on the desk before slipping on the sleeping wear. It settled on me comfortably, loose yet fitted to my stature.
I turned off the lights and climbed into bed, relishing in the softness and warmth that engulfed me. It was the right decision to leave our sheets at the orphanage. It wouldn't have even fit on this bed.
The mattress was extremely soft, and my body sunk into it with pleasure. I pulled up my blankets until it rested just beneath my chin and stared at the ceiling, hoping to fall asleep soon.
A few moments passed before I turned on my side and tried closing my eyes, doing my best to clear my mind.
When that didn't work either, I sighed and sat up, pumping my pillow before falling back on it.
The room seemed much more menacing than it did in the daylight. It was so big, so...empty. I felt strangely cold, even though the room was warm and I had all my covers on me.
It's like something's missing. There's this...space. Why is there so much space on this bed? It's able to fit more than three grown adults! Who needs all this room when they sleep anyway? It's unnerving.
...
I wonder how Mokuba's doing.
Maybe I should check up on him?
What if he's lonely? Scared?
Yeah, he should still be at that age where he's afraid of the dark…(I chose to ignore the fact that Mokuba never showed any signs of having a problem sleeping in the dark).
...
Exactly three minutes and twenty-seven seconds(I know because I counted) passed before I finally gave in and threw off my blankets. Walking to my door, I opened it and went to Mokuba's room. Slowly opening his door, I peeked in and blinked in surprise when I saw that he was nowhere to be found. Which meant...
Against my will, a small smile broke out onto my lips as I tried not to dash to Seto's room.
Softly entering, I watched with glee both as of my brother's heads turning towards me. Gently shutting the door behind me, I climbed in the bed with them.
The moment I felt pressed up against another body, the empty disconcerting vortex finally disappeared and I exhaled in relief.
"I was going to get you Risa-nee, but Seto told me to wait!" Mokie's voice chirped softly and I raised an eyebrow at my older brother. He gave me a smirk in return, smugness painted across his face.
I rolled my eyes.
Oh yes, the great Seto knew everything. Murmuring a "goodnight", I shut my eyes and fell asleep in no time.
That was the last good sleep I got for a while yet.
(✦✧✦✧)
"One hand out and in, Miss Kaiba. Do I need to repeat myself again?!"
I grit my teeth and do my sixth round of chaîné turns. It was not going to be fun having to do my etiquette class after this, I already felt the soreness numbing the tips of my feet.
Twenty more minutes of torture later, my two hour long class finally ended and I collapsed into a nearby chair as my demon of a ballet teacher packed up and left without another word. The old hag was never satisfied with how much I could perfect in a day.
"Mary," I called, and the older woman walked to my side.
Mary was the maid they assigned to me, the term 'maid' used loosely as she was technically part of my etiquette training, along with working to keep me on schedule and make sure I was behaving rather than to really serve me.
"Yes, Miss Kaiba?" She asked.
"Can I please have some water?" I asked, exhausted. We didn't keep water bottles in the house because they were 'unsightly', so everything had to be done with porcelain and glass, which made it significantly harder to carry around with me. Thus, I had to depend on Mary to help me with this.
"May I please have a glass of water." She corrected immediately, unmoving from my side.
I closed my eyes, trying my best not to lose my temper. Calm down Risana...Just a few more hours.
I dragged my hand down my face, trying to keep myself alive enough to think rather than react based on how shitty I felt at the moment. Mary wouldn't leave anyway until I asked 'properly'.
"May. I. Please. Have a glass. Of water." I grit out, struggling to keep my tone 'light and polite' like how she always told me to.
"Yes, Miss Kaiba." She responded, and handed over a cup of water. I took it and forced myself to drink it in smaller increments, knowing that it would be revoked if I gulped it down the way I wanted to.
I had only been in this cursed mansion for a month, and I was slowly being worn down. Apparently, whatever 'manners' I did have weren't enough for Gozaburo Kaiba, and he put me into an intensive etiquette program along with school studies the day after we arrived. Seto, Mokuba, and I's entire weeks were filled to the brim with schedules and learning, with our only free time allocated for about nine hours at night-although Mokuba was allowed more freedom in that aspect.
My body wasn't made for this type of endurance, and I could feel the constant weariness settling in my bones. Luckily we were fighters, and I wasn't planning on going down any time soon.
Someone knocked on the door, and I sighed. Sitting up even straighter, I quickly comb my hand through my hair and make sure I'm presentable before calling out "Enter."
Pressing my face into an amicable smile, I put my cup on the side table as my hellish etiquette teacher arrived.
Madame Lonsdale took one look at me and instantly clicked her tongue.
"Get up. A proper woman must greet her guests as they arrive." I stand up, trying to remember past lessons as Lonsdale walks closer.
"Chin up." She ordered, moving her long, metal correction wand underneath my chin.
I lift it up to what I remember as the proper amount, and she moves on to tap it against the back of my legs. "Too wide, narrow them. Point your feet and shift your weight."
Thus, another two hours of Hell began. We practiced dinner manners, silverware, reading postures, and professional greetings before time was up.
As the Madame left, I fell back into the chair, only to be met with a hiss of disapproval by Mary.
This time, I ignore it and drink from my cup again, my throat dry from practicing polite speech for so long.
After a fast lunch, I finish four more classes before I'm finally dismissed for the day. I sludge into my room, Mary thankfully absent, and collapse onto my bed. Mokuba is at my desk, finishing up his homework.
"Risa-nee!" He exclaims, abandoning his worksheet to jump onto me. This was usually the only time we got to see each other besides occasionally at Breakfast and Dinner, if Gozaburo was home.
He knocks some of the air out of me, but I roll over and return the hug. Mokuba was typically the first one done with classes, and then me, and then Seto typically an hour or so later. No doubt he had the biggest course load as Gozaburo's heir apparent.
After taking a few minutes to cuddle Mokie, I get up and go into the bathroom to take a brief shower and finally relax.
I sigh as the hot water pours on me, easing my aches. Hesitantly, I look at my feet...and yup, those are some blisters and bruises for sure.
I grimace as I quickly finish cleaning myself, each step more painful now that I've noticed the state of my body. After changing into another nightgown, which seemed to be the only type of pajama they put in my closet, I walked out of the bathroom while toweling off my hair.
Mokuba had finished his homework and was on the bed doodling in one of my sketchbooks, so I sat at the desk and got out some bandages and medicine for my feet.
It only took me a minute to rub the minty-smelling salve on, and it numbed my feet blissfully. Then, I wrapped the bandages around it and secured the ends, which made me feel a little bit better. Hopefully they'll heal quickly.
Putting the supplies away in their drawer, I pulled out the rest of my homework for the day and signed again, irrefutably tired.
The faster you do this, the faster you can sleep, the voice in my head encouraged. Couldn't argue with that logic. I had to stay awake long enough to see Seto come back anyway.
For another thirty or so minutes, Mokuba and I worked together quietly. I had just finished my third worksheet when I heard the door creak open.
Instantly, both of us perked up and turned around.
"Seto-nii!" Mokuba yells, clambering down the bed to give his brother a hug. At the same time, I stood up from my desk but wobbled a little. It took a second for me to adjust to the bandages on my feet before giving Seto a hug of my own.
He gave us both weak pats on the back before trudging over to the bed and collapsing face down onto the blankets.
Mokuba and I shared a look, before we sat on either side of Seto. Mokuba went back to his drawing, and I stroked my fingers through Seto's hair calmingly, trying to fight the concern in my chest.
My poor brother was even more overworked than I was, and he didn't have the experience of a past life to help deal with it either.
I got off the bed and started the water so the bathtub could fill before going back to my desk and returning to my homework. After a few minutes, I heard Seto groan as he got off the bed and then the close of the bathroom door.
By the time he was done, I had finished off the last of my extra work. Typically at this time, Mokuba got tired, and so Seto and I both said goodnight to him as he went to his own room to sleep.
I go over to Seto's stack of textbooks and he tells me what his homework is, which usually consists of extra readings or math problems. He starts working on the latter, while I skim through the other chapters and help condense the information for him.
It's almost 12 am by the time we finish, and Seto and I play a speedy round of Duel Monsters to unwind before saying our goodnights. My deck is practically tailored to oppose Seto's cards, as he and Mokuba are the only ones that I ever play with. I put up a good fight, but as usual, Seto's cards are too strong and he wipes out my life points before I can finish drawing the trap I needed to defend myself.
I pout as we put the cards away, but Seto's small smile makes any bitter defeat worth it.
We say our goodnights before he goes back to his own room to sleep until he has to wake up at six in the morning.
I do the same, turning off the lights in my room and settling down in my own bed. We've all gotten more used to being apart from each other due to the circumstances, and all I could do was treasure the few moments we had together in the evenings or mornings.
The moon is bright tonight, and the light filters through my windows. It reminds me of simpler times, but that's all I think of before the fatigue crashes over me and I fall asleep.
(✦✧✦✧)
My fingers spasm, and I flinch as my flawless arpeggio shatters into out of tune chords. I use my other hand to clutch the offending one to my chest, anxiety rising in my throat as I realize it's completely numb and twitching uncontrollably.
My other hand cramps up from the action, and I hold back a yelp. My wrists are stiff but felt as if they were about to fall off at any minute, my back is taut with pain, and I'm trying my best to keep the tears out of my eyes.
Everything hurts, but the loss of feeling scares me even more.
My piano teacher, a retired no-nonsense world championship performer, gets up from his chair by me and extends a hand.
"Let me see", he says, voice lilted by a native French accent.
I cautiously direct my numb hand into his, trying to ignore the painful cramps in my other one. He looks it over, and uses his thumbs to press into certain areas. The small massages help lessen some of the twitching, and I sigh softly as feeling returns again.
"You need wrist brace." He says, "You should see a doctor. We can not continue until it gets better."
I nod slowly, torn between relief and unease. I'm pretty sure if I played any more at the same intensity that I have been, my nerves would get permanently damaged. I was just worried about what would happen if I wasn't prepared in time for the upcoming national competition. It was only a month away.
Typically, it would have been impossible to make it this far so soon, but Gozaburo's influence had no bounds as the richest man in the country. In my past life, I had played a few years of piano, and so I wasn't a stranger to the basics. However, over the half a year at Gozaburo's mercy, I had been forced into rigorous training that accelerated me into higher brackets of performance.
I had no doubt that some measure of bribery or authority was involved, but I had trained for and won state the month before, and was now working on an even more elaborate piece to perform for the title of Japan's top pianist.
Truth be told, I don't think I would have any shot if it weren't for the fact of my age, and the lowered expectations. Of course, not to mention the hours spent a day preparing and practicing and re-practicing the perfection of just one composition, rather than traditionally enough for however many rounds there were. It was a completely bullshit ego-stroke for Gozaburo, but I was still here, slaving away on this damn piano until I cripple myself so that he could have another tool to leverage.
Class ended early, and I thanked my teacher as usual before Mary brought over the family doctor.
I had quite a severe case of carpal tunnel syndrome, and he fitted me with a wrist brace, just as my teacher had recommended. After helping massage the cramp out of my other hand, giving me an ice pack, and prescribing me with some medication, the doctor sent me to my room to rest.
I laid on my bed in the dark, the heavy curtains let down to block out nearly all the sunlight, staring at the pulled red fabric of my canopy. The ice pack was on my wrist, and it helped slightly, although I could still feel the rhythmic throb of pain through every single one of my fingers' joints. My entire body was so tired.
There was only one time that I had dared to not succeed, and Gozaburo's rage afterwards was one I loathed to ever experience again.
If I think back though, I can't remember most of it. Just one furious flash of pain, and the next time I came to, I was in my bathtub, the faucet running and pink tinted water lapping at my knees. I was glad I couldn't remember the experience and that the marks eventually healed without a trace of a scar, but the pain had lingered with me for months until it did.
Even worse than any suffering of the flesh, however, I was put into isolation to work until I succeeded. Despite my complete frenzy to live and breathe work, it still took me another two months to redeem myself. Two months of not seeing my siblings, of being completely alone.
That was the longest I had ever gone in my life without them. And I would never let it happen again.
I tried to muster any bit of anger or sadness, but I didn't have any other chance to dwell further before I blacked out.
(✦✧✦✧)
A manila folder of pictures was laid out on the table in front of me. Snapshots of a variety of different men and women and children dressed in high-end clothing stared at me.
"What is this?" I questioned, looking up at Mary, who had brought it over.
"All of the important guests that will be attending the Weber Charity dance in two weeks." She states, leaning over to organize the photos even more. "It's a very big event. You and your brothers will be going, and Mr. Kaiba expects you to know everyone there."
I look back at the pictures, quickly counting. There were at least 30 individual photos, and another 20 family ones, which I'm guessing were the less notable participants.
"In particular," Mary continues, picking out certain pictures from the rest, "Mr. Kaiba wants you to get acquainted with them."
In her selected line-up were six boys, each around my age, and each distinguishably dressed.
I felt my stomach drop.
"Is there a reason for that?" I ask, cautiously.
"They are the sons of the most wealthy men in attendance." Mary explains, and she goes down the list, telling me about their family and businesses.
Like she says, each of them are tremendously influential, despite most only being second or third in line for succession.
Well, to a certain extent, it was exactly what I had expected. Everything was a giant blur of classes (and blood) and work, but it had been over a year now that we've been at the Kaiba mansion. I had seen the differences between Seto's training and mine. Seto worked on professional and strategic topics from business management and advanced mathematics, while I took more arts-enhancing courses like dance, piano, and Poetic English.
It was obvious that while my brother was being primed to take over the company, I was being groomed to be a perfect trophy wife that Gozaboru could marry off for more influence and connections. He already has two heirs, after all, I wasn't even considered useful as another spare.
Silently, I listened as Mary went through the portfolio, blankly trying to remember the slew of information. But it was going in one ear and out the other.
There was no escape. As I've been quickly realizing, I don't have a choice. In this or anything else. My will had been sold away the moment I became a Kaiba, and I would never have a taste of freedom again. I was a puppet, forced to bend to the will of whomever owned me.
Something twisted in my chest, and the pain almost made me gasp for breath.
My whole life, gone. My future, a bargaining chip.
No, don't think that way. You need to calm down…
The knot in my chest unraveled, clarity spilling through me like sunlight on a cold day.
We're clever. We can think of a way to get out of this.
Yes. This certainly wasn't any dead end. If there's anything Seto and I have learned throughout the years, it's how to be crafty.
But for now, let's focus on how to get past this first burdensome task.
For two weeks, I worked on memorizing the names, appearances, and backgrounds of everyone going to the dance. I was still young enough that they didn't expect me to do any dancing, so at least I got out of that.
Finally, the night of the ball came.
It took an entire two hours for the maids to get me ready to their standards, but I wasn't complaining. It was certainly better and more relaxing than having to go perform my usual schedule, which had incidentally been cut in half for the day so that I could prepare for the event.
That fact alone made me feel more optimistic about the night, as socializing for a few hours would definitely be a welcome break from the usual grind.
By 6 pm, I met Seto and Mokuba at the front door, both of whom were sporting tailored suits.
"Risa-nee, your dress is so pretty!" Mokuba exclaimed as I came down the stairs. The dress in question is fairly formal, white with double layers and satin looped straps, tied off by a wide pink ribbon around the waist. I had on matching white flats and a small fake flower clipped into my hair, overall giving the illusion of a sweet little girl.
"Thanks Mokie!" I say as the butlers lead us out to the car. "I love your suit too!"
It's a muted shade of beige that flatters his dark hair. The cute little bow in the front matches his eyes, and Mokie blushes at the compliment. Seto, on the other hand, is wearing a matching white suit, also with a blue accent. It draws attention and exemplifies his features, and I wonder if that was the intention of the outfit.
You match...how eye catching.
We get into the limousine, where Gozaburo is already waiting. At once, the atmosphere changes from excited and bubbly into something more mellow and somber.
Gozaburo's thick eyebrows pressed against his eyes sternly as we sat down, judging our appearance. It seems to be satisfactory, as he doesn't make a comment.
"You are all aware of the expectations for tonight's event, correct?" He asks as the limo pulls out of the mansion.
All three of us nodded.
"Good, I'm not paying those tutors to do nothing." He grunts.
The rest of the ride is suffered in silence, Mokuba looking out the window, Seto dazing off, and me staring at my hands. I still needed to sleep with the wrist brace on for a few more weeks, but I had mostly recovered otherwise.
Nervous? No, I'm not nervous.
Good.
The car slows to a stop, and we all look up, returning our attention to the present.
"Make sure to follow me." Gozaburo orders before the door is pulled open and he steps out. We all get out, and I make sure to straighten out my dress before starting off after Gozaburo and my brothers.
It's freshly night, and the night animals are starting up their symphonies. I can smell the flowers blooming nearby as we go up a wide set of marble stairs covered by a red carpet, flanked by soft but bright lanterns. Above, a giant, ornate mansion looms, sophistically brightened by well lights. I didn't get much of a chance to gawk though, as we were soon walking into the banquet hall.
The floor is crowded with people socializing, a few waiters weaving around and offering platters of snacks and drinks. Immediately, Gozaburo is in conversation with a nearby man. They exchange swift pleasantries, and then Gozabruo introduces us one by one.
We all give our greetings, and they engage in business talk. I know Seto is expected to listen in and understand the topics, but I quickly lose interest in the formal conversation. I stare around the banquet hall, taking in the glittering chandeliers and gold lighting. Everyone walked with a sense of confidence and purpose, and I could smell the whiff of expensive perfume anytime someone walked past.
Oh-are those cranberry crostinis? I want one so bad...they look so delicious.
Kaiba Corporation sells weapons?
I tune back into the conversation, listening carefully as Gozaburo and the man discuss artillery provisions and stocks.
I hadn't given it much thought before, I suppose. I knew that Kaiba Corp was a technology based company, but I didn't know that it's main work was in military arms. I look over at my brother, who has on a picture perfect facade except for the tight crinkle between his eyebrows.
This was a bit concerning, since Kaiba Corp was one of the wealthiest companies in the world. Other than standard income from selling to countries and militias, the occasional exponential rises in Kaiba Corp revenue as noted in my brief financial courses would have to mean that there was enough conflict occurring in the world to justify such rises in the company's sales.
I consider it thoughtfully. Maybe I should request a politics class, it would certainly be enlightening to my currently limited view of the outside world.
After a few more lengthy minutes, Gozaburo bids his farewell to the man and we move on. There's practically a line to talk with him, after all, and we move further and further into the crowd with every conversation.
"My, Gozaburo! Your children are simply gorgeous." A woman in a shiny cocktail dress exclaims, "I'm sure they're just as successful as they're lovely."
She puts both hands on the shoulders of the child standing next to her, maneuvering the little girl into the spotlight.
"Have you met my daughter, Jacqueline? She just won the state piano championship, and now she's being invited for nationals." The woman continues, all big white smiles as she advertises her daughter, who offers Seto a weak smile.
"How wonderful it is to meet your daughter, " Gozaburo responds in kind, although I could hear the unimpressed undertone in his voice. After all…
"My own daughter, Risana, just recently won Japan's piano national championship. She's internationally ranked now. Perhaps they can talk about their experiences together." He ends, with a smile that's too polite to be cordial.
The woman's eyes widened comically, and I only offer her a practiced smile as consolation when she looks at me with a sort of unbelieving horror. It was unnatural, wasn't it? That in the span of a year, an orphan child went from being a talentless nobody to an award-winning show dog.
It was unnatural, because the methods were unnatural. But she didn't need to know the blood and sweat and, more rarely, the tears that went on behind the scenes. All she needed to see was the ease with which the Kaiba family accomplished anything they set out for.
I was just thankful that I would never have to lay a hand on another god-forsaken piano again.
Within the span of a second, the woman schooled her expression again and offered me her insincere congratulations before finishing off the short conversation with Gozaburo and leaving without a second glance.
It goes on like this for a while. Between the men there to discuss work affairs with Gozaburo, wives and mothers would come up and try to acclimate their own well-bred children to Seto and I.
The fifth child we meet is a boy I recognized from my list. Masahiko Yoshimaru, son of one of the biggest entertainment industries in Japan. I give him my formal greetings, but he just stares at me, scrutinizing.
"You would be prettier if your eyes were green." He finally says in a matter-of-factly tone, "But I guess you're okay."
The smile on my face snaps.
Ex...cuse me?
I struggle to keep a straight face. The damn kid didn't even know my name yet and that was the first thing he said to me? What type of spoiled, uneducated-no actually this made perfect sense.
I don't bother to give him a response, but a voice unexpectedly pipes up from my side.
"Take that back!" Mokuba seethes, a tiny ball of righteous anger. "My sister is perfect just the way she is!"
I was temporarily speechless. Mokuba tended to be more timid in social situations, although he definitely had his fair share of gutsy behavior whenever it was just the three of us. This was unexpected behavior.
"Mokuba," I start, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, but before I can finish my sentence, Masahiko huffs angrily.
"Take what back? I just told the truth. Where's your gratitude?!" He snaps, brimming with arrogance. "I knew street rats would always be street rats, regardless of how many tutors they have."
Now, he had the undivided attention of all three of us. Any semblance of a smile I had on my face slips off.
"Come again?" I ask, but it's a warning to tread carefully.
"Are you deaf too?" The little brat taunted, "I said that you guys don't belong here."
For a second, my vision went red. This little bastard really thought he could just say whatever he wanted to us, huh? Well if he wants a street rat, then I'll show him exactly how much it hurts to be bit by one.
You're going to fight a child? Damn right I will.
I take a step forward, but don't get to go much further due to a loose grip on my arm. I look back at Seto, who gives me a shake of the head despite the fury brewing in his own eyes.
Not here. The voice in my head chides. Control yourself, don't embarrass us. I take a deep breath, feeling the anger draw itself out of me.
Right. There was a better way to approach this, physical violence wouldn't solve anything right now.
"But Seto-" Mokuba starts strongly, gazing at our brother with confused indignation. But at the look that Seto gives him, Mokuba snaps his mouth shut and retreats back to my side, eyes fixed on the floor unhappily.
"It's okay, Mokie." I comfort, taking a deep breath before putting my smile back on and staring straight at the blue-haired boy across from us. "After all, there's no use in speaking to garbage."
Masahiko's condescending grin dropped. "What did you say?!" He demanded, the haughtiness in his stance turning to rage.
"Are you deaf too?" I echo, although my tone is much more lighthearted, "I said that you're human scum, and you wish you were good enough to even lick the bottom of our shoes." I finish, tilting my head with a perfectly sweet smile.
Mokuba and Seto gaped at me.
Masahiko's entire face went red, but he doesn't even get to retort before Mr. Yoshimaru starts to pull him away, the conversation with Gozaburo having finished. We watch as he desperately glances back, but is forced to keep up with his father.
I offer him one last polite wave as he disappears into the crowds.
Nice work. Thank you.
Another man easily takes Yoshimaru's place, and thankfully this one doesn't have any children. My brothers are quieter than usual, though, and I glance at both of them questioningly.
"What's wrong?" I ask, hoping that the annoying brat hadn't gotten their mood down.
"Nothing." Mokuba says, avoiding my eyes. "I'm just glad you're my sister."
The event went on smoothly after that. I even managed to get one of the waiters carrying the cranberry crostinis to stop and give me one. It was just as good as it looked, the sweet jam blending well with the brie cheese and crunchy bottom.
Near the end of the night, however, we met Sir Addington. A wealthy semi-royal, he and his family took more to investment than business-making. That also meant, apparently, that they had lots of free time.
Free time that they focused on their only daughter, fifteen-year-old girl with impish features and silky braided brown hair named Emilie Addington.
Her repertoire was filled with accomplishments and recognitions, the top of which was her international standing as the greatest fencing player of her age. She had been playing before she could even walk, and Sir Addington would not stop boasting about it.
Which was fine. I had accomplished my own impressive list of awards in the year I had been at the Kaiba Mansion, but Sir Addington seemed to find them unsatisfactory.
"Well, it's a bit different isn't it?" He said, eyebrow cocked. Gozaburo swirled the champagne in his glass silently, and Sir Addington took that as an unfortunate gesture to go on. "Emilie isn't like any other girl. Everyone these days can be musical and dance, but very few have the talent or wit to pursue fencing."
Talent or wit to pursue fencing?! What the hell does that even mean?
The atmosphere shifted negatively with a frown from Gozaburo, but Sir Addington's arrogance couldn't be stopped, and he kept on babbling about the wonders that fencing offers that makes it superior from all other arts, how his daughter was the best in the world, and how no one could hope to compare.
The conversation was quickly ended after that, although the Addingtons departed with smug smiles that made Gozaburo crack the wineglass in his hand.
A waiter immediately came to replace it, but the damage had already been done.
Seto looked over at me with concern and gave my hand a small squeeze of support, but it did little to ease the chill that went down my spine.
The rest of the evening was spent in a decidedly different mood.
As the night closed off, we finally got around to leaving after Gozaburo made all the rounds that he needed. Any guise of friendliness was dropped the moment the limo door closed behind us.
Gozaburo grit his teeth, his eyes darkening as his mood dampened instantly.
"Risana." He called. It was just a stated word, but it was even worse than if he had yelled.
"Yes, father?" I responded right away, inwarding grimacing.
"Tomorrow you will be starting fencing lessons." He said, leveling me with a searing gaze. "Do. Not. Disappoint me."
I bowed my head. My fingertips dug into my palm so hard that I bled, but I didn't notice.
"Yes, father."
Fuck.
(✦✧✦✧)
Due to the lower amount of competition in the field, and the fact that Emilie fenced foil rather than epee or sabre, I accomplished Gozaburo's goal in five months.
I felt like I almost died from the intensive training to get ready for the next tournament. I had never fenced before, suddenly I was spending more than half of all my days sweating in a thick, padded suit. I was already tired and overworked, and the intensive exercise pushed me to the point where I would sometimes black out in the mornings after 'waking up' and only regain consciousness when it was time for training.
I wasn't exactly sure what I did in the times I was blacked out, but no one said a word so it worked well enough for me.
Now I'm here, staring down Emilie at the center of a lit up platform, sweat dripping down my face but prevented from blurring my eyes by the helmet guard. She's a good half a foot taller than me, but I'm pushing five foot at nearly 10 years old.
Emilie had the advantage of reach on me, for sure. She was originally anticipated to be the winner of this tournament.
Unfortunately, the current score sat at 14 - 11 in my favor.
Emilie lunges towards me, but I parry and lean back, her foil sliding down to the hilt of mine. She's nervous, and getting reckless in her desperation. With the right of way, my foil hits her in the chest long before she can retaliate. The arena is roaring as the referee calls halt to determine the last point of the game, but it's already over. From the look on Emilie's face through the veil of her mask, she knew it too.
"Point to Risana. Risana wins the match." The referee announces at last. The stadium erupts into roars, cheers and curses and excitement. This was an unprecedented victory.
I throw my mask off my head, finally letting fresh air hit my sweating face. I tuck the mask under my arm and smile at Emilie. A real smile, wrought from months of grueling work and the relief that it was over.
Yes, reach did help a lot, but I was faster, and my timing was better, and my shortness only made it harder for Emilie to adjust her hits. She lost the moment she underestimated me.
We salute as it ends, but Emilie can barely keep the polite facade on her face. It slips off just before she turns away, and I can't help but smirk at the conflicted despair that twisted her face.
Sorry Emilie. I thought, also turning away from the bright lights of the stadium to finally go home. But blame your father for provoking Gozaburo.
After all, I do what I need to survive. That conviction just ended up being stronger than your own.
(✦✧✦✧)
The next time we meet Sir Addington and his family, he's a significantly more humbled man. At his side, Emilia stares at me with that same dark mix of emotion in her eyes. Disbelief, fear, anguish, and anger.
But my left knee is in a splint from a stress fracture, and I sneer back. The metallic taste of blood is ugly in my mouth, but I couldn't care less.
I'm freshly 10 years old, and a Kaiba. I have never, could never, fail to rise up to a challenge.
This time, I earn my first birthday present from Gozaburo: a simple one percent share of the company's stocks.
(✦✧✦✧)
Something is different.
Is it?
Yes. You are.
I am only what I need to be.
...Perhaps so.
(✦✧✦✧)
"What are you doing Mokuba?" I pry, peeking over his shoulder at the picture he was scribbling out on the desk.
"It's a drawing, for Seto!" He chirped, and I make out the faint shape of a light blue dragon on the paper.
Realization sparks.
"Is that the blue-eyes white dragon?" I ask, moving to sit down next to him.
"Yup!" He answers back happily.
I smile and lean on one hand, watching him. The lineart is a little crooked, and the colors don't fill up all the white spaces, but that made it charming in the way only home-made gifts can be.
Taking one of the crayons, I doodle my own blue-eyes on the side, filling out its details until it's a sprawling monster across the page.
"W-Wow Risa-nee!" Mokuba exclaims as he peeks at my drawing, and I hum questioningly. "How did you do that?!" He yells, a bright buzzing ball of energy.
I shade in the patch I'm working on, before looking at the drawing as a whole. On the page, the blue-eyes white dragon nearly comes to life, eyes glowing with a fervid life as it seems to coil off the pages. With some more details, it would be real enough to touch.
I blink.
Huh, I didn't mean to make it so...dramatic. I felt like I had drawn it in a trance, turning it from a simple picture to something out of my wildest dreams. It's been a long time since I drew anything, maybe I just got in over my own head.
"I'm not sure." I answer lamely, but pick the drawing up from the table. "Do you want it?"
Mokuba furiously nods his head, and I watch as he takes out a book. Then, he opens it to reveal the hollow insides, where a duel monsters deck is sitting.
I raised my eyebrow. "Is that your deck?" I ask as I hand over my paper.
"No, it's Seto's." Mokuba responds, placing his own card-shaped drawing in the fake book with my slightly bigger one. At my confused stare, he elaborates. "Seto got his games taken away, so I'm hiding this from Hudson."
My eyebrows furrowed. "Seto got his games taken away? Why?"
To be honest, we've been seeing Seto less and less often recently. He's taken to just going straight to his room after classes, saying that he's too tired to hang out with us. It was weird, but Mokuba and I had dropped it at the deathly look in his eyes.
If Seto needed his own alone time, that was fine with me.
Mokuba shrugged. "I don't know, Hudson came around looking for Seto's stuff, so I tried to hide his deck. You know how nii-san is about Duel Monsters…"
We both flashback to all the times in the orphanage that Seto obsessed over building his deck, the hundreds of duels he would do inbetween chess matches, and even the occasional game we would play today. Chess was Seto's professional project at the time, but Duel Monsters was definitely his passion.
We still had another half an hour before Seto would finish his classes, so Mokuba and I broke into his room to hide the book in Seto's desk with a little note from both of us.
I ruffled Mokuba's hair with a grin after we finished our mini quest. That sweet little cream puff, I just love him so much.
He was getting smart too, I have no idea how he found that hollow book, but it was resourceful. I guess our little Mokie was growing up.
Ah, I remember the days when I had to change his diapers.
Gross. Don't remind me.
And now, he was old enough to think about schemes on his own.
Seto didn't come to visit us that night or the next, but Mokuba showed me a note he got back from our eldest sibling.
All it said in scribbled writing was:
Thanks.
(✦✧✦✧)
This time, the party was hosted by Gozaburo.
Seto had made a name for himself as a prodigy in all aspects, particularly that of intellectual affairs, while I had personally achieved more in the physical field. I had to admit that in terms of pure IQ alone, Seto probably had me beat, but I was in no ways stupid either. Thus, Gozaburo spared no expenses to flaunt the superiority of 'his' children during this event.
Our banquet hall was outfitted with the finest catering, the finest waiters, the finest flowers, and the finest guests. Many of the attendees had even traveled from different countries to attend Gozaburo's event, as it was a gathering of the most influential people in the world.
Stefan Von Schroeder was one of those people.
"Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Kaiba" Stefan said smoothly, his German accent weaving through his words. "As I'm sure you know, your children are the talk of the town. And believe me, I can relate. My son, too, is a child prodigy."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
His 'child prodigy' is a kid with pink hair and a lilac suit, standing in front of us. His father introduces him as Sigfried von Schroeder, and I recognize him as one of the lineups Mary has prepared for me.
How wonderful. That only made me despise him even more. It was always a half and half crapshoot with their personalities.
Luckily, he took more to Seto than me.
"You look like you're as thrilled to be here as I am." He says, directed to my apathetic brother. "What do you say we spice things up a bit?"
The chandelier lights flash, and Mokuba squishes closer to me, grabbing my left hand in a jerk of nerves. I frown. Was this supposed to be some kind of joke?
"Strange, there must be a short." Gozaburo considers as murmurs of concern spring up around us. A bodyguard emerges from the crowd and whispers to him, causing his eyebrows to crease angrily. "No, there must be some mistake. Check it again..." He orders.
I see Seto turn back to regard the kid in front of us with a new light in his eyes, but I am unimpressed by the cheap parlor trick. The wiring on the lights weren't even directly connected to any of Kaiba Corp's mainframe systems, they could be operated by any of the light boxes hidden in the walls.
Seto would know this if he had to take interior decorating classes like I did. On my list of hated classes though, it ranked low enough to be bearable. I couldn't say the same for my course in fashion anticipation though. Like it wasn't hard enough having to interact with half of the people in my social sphere, now I had to think of ways to outdress them too.
"Let's just say I dabble in technology." Siegfried says, despite the fact that no one asked. "I guess when you spend all your time alone, you tend to tinker in your own little projects. You know how it is, Herr Kaiba."
It was a statement meant for Seto, but it managed to hit me where it hurts. Seto didn't spend all his time alone...he didn't use to, at least.
Now, however, was a different story.
"Goodbye Herr Kaiba, Frau Kaiba." Siegfried bids in farewell, finally acknowledging me as Stefan and Gozaburo finish their rivalry disguised as pleasantries. With the way that Stefan stalks away, I'm guessing that our adopted father had once more gotten his way.
"I've heard so much about your children, Mr. Kaiba." Another man takes his place easily. I follow the sharp lines of a grey suit up to his face and check another profile off my list.
After another hour of socializing, I use a flimsy excuse to take a breather from the constant crowds of people around us.
I find myself gravitating over to the side tables, stacked with a variety of different hor d'oeuvres. It's the only type of food they serve at these events, and I pick out a beautifully stacked smoked trout blinis topped with crème fraîche. I barely finish my first bite before someone's calling for me.
"Risana-chan?"
I look over my shoulder, surprised at the casual use of my first name. My eyes widen as I recognize the figure emerging from the crowd.
"Somei-san?" I exclaim in surprise as he appears in front of me.
Somei was a man that frequented the old casino I used to gamble at. It was easy to recognize him by his classically dark hair, sly eyes, and most prominently of all, the small scar that ripped across the left side of his lip. I wasn't aware that he was on the guest list...in fact, I don't ever recall seeing his face in Mary's portfolios at all.
"Seems like you've become quite the affluent young lady, huh?" He asked, casually leaning over the table to snag a blinis for himself.
I give him a strangled smile. It's interesting how quickly we turn from rag-tag orphans into well-bred sons and daughters once you add wealth into the equation. Although in reality, we were all just playing pieces in the dash for riches and glory.
"Something like that." I reply cordially.
"Well," He says, swallowing the last of the blinis, "Clever children like you are destined for greater things. Wasn't that how you got here in the first place?"
Not really…
"I would credit my brother more with that part." I return, and the brief memories of our time at the orphanage make me a little sentimental. That was a time we could never go back to, and the knife that had hung over our necks has switched to a guillotine.
It didn't matter in the end. Either way ended in death, it was just a matter of what luxury was afforded in the execution.
"Don't sell yourself short, kid. Your brother," I follow Somei's gaze to Seto, who's still being guided around the hall by Gozaburo. His navy suit is perfectly tailored onto him, as much of a match to his disposition as his resting scowl. "Is...capable."
"You, however," Somei continues, turning a critical eye back to me, "are far better suited for something more."
I narrow my eyes at his implication. This better not be something repulsive
"Something more?" I repeat, anger and suspicion vying in my tone, daring him to continue.
"Don't get me wrong, Princess," Somei guffled at my reaction, "I just meant that it would be a pleasure to do business with you." From his suit pocket, he took out a plastic card and gave it to me.
It was a silvery grey, elegant font scripted across the front in black. I briefly glance at it, take in the name, before looking back. My face relaxes back into the easy smile I was trained into.
Ah. I understand.
"I see. Thank you for talking with me, Somei. Maybe we can continue this conversation sometime else."
He gives me a small smile, wicked like the glint in his eyes. "I hope to hear from you soon, Risa-chan."
I turned around, tucking the card safely into my dress as I made my way back to Gozaburo and my brothers. The pleasant taste of the trout had soured in my mouth after that conversation, and it took all my efforts not to scrunch my face up in disgust at the intimate nickname he used.
If that clown really thought he could play me that easily, then he was even dumber than I thought.
I blend back into Gozaburo's side as easily as if I had never left, and the night passes rapidly after that, although the plastic of Somei's card dug into my stomach at every turn, a constant reminder of the new issue I would now have to deal with.
The night ends with Gozaburo's announcement of a new company deal between the biggest manufacturing company in Europe and Kaiba Corporation, and everyone celebrates with a round of champagne. As we leave the party, I catch Stefan Von Schroeder out of the corner of my eye, glaring at us with complete undisguised animosity.
Well, it was none of my concern. After all, everyone eventually learned, hard way or not, that Kaibas always got their way.
That night, I pulled the card out of my dress, and examined it closely in the lamp light. It only had two things on it, an address and a phone number. At the very bottom was a specific symbol, a thick segmented circle around the japanese character 'Kura'.
Opening up my laptop, I had it run a scan on the insignia. As I expected, it was tied to the same town that Seto, Mokuba, and I came from. More specifically it was a gang sign, representing the local yakuza.
I sigh, leaning back onto my chair to stare at the ceiling.
I cursed my stupid self from the past. In my rush to escape the underground by gambling, I had unwittingly thrown myself right into their arms. I wouldn't be surprised if Minagawa was also in on it, that old bastard.
So, now you're in trouble?
Not...quite, I think. They obviously want my involvement for a reason. I expect that if I comply and meet with Somei at the location on the card, they would probably try and blackmail me into financially backing their organization or some other form of leeway to run rampant in the streets.
But things are different now. I'm not an innocent, confused little girl.
No, I smirk.
Old Risana might have detested to think of those scum as allies, but if Gozaburo has taught me anything, it's to spare no mercy in doing what I need to succeed.
And if 'Kura' was going to get in my way, then they'd either have to yield or cease to exist.
I would prefer the former, but the latter wasn't unappealing either.
Clever girl. What are you going to do?
All in good time. But first, time to do a little research.
Let me help too...
(✦✧✦✧)
After that, Seto was more than frequently seen with a screwdriver in one hand and machine parts in the other, although most of the mess was thankfully scattered in his own room. God knows it would've been impossible to find the little memory and driver chips if they had gotten lost anywhere else.
I can tell it doesn't make him as happy as being able to play games, but he doesn't dislike the manual work. I ask him what the piece he's working on is for, and he tells me with a small smile that it's a device to play virtual games with.
I'm torn between amusement and fond exasperation. He's definitely smart enough to do it, but of course, he uses all his skills in the pursuit of his one true interest: gaming.
Well, I can't judge too much. After all, we all do what we have to in order to cope.
I twist my hands behind my back, hiding the red rust stuck under my fingernails.
(✦✧✦✧)
It's summer now, we're less bundled up. Seto and I are working at the desk, Mokuba having already gone to sleep in his own room. It's been a week or so since I last saw him, so it was an increasingly rare treat to do work or play games with him.
Seto goes to put back something into one of the shelves, and his dress sleeve slides up just enough for me to see something lingering beneath the shadow of his shirt.
"Seto." I blurted, eyes locked onto his sleeve. "What is that?"
His eyes dart down, and he quickly puts the book down onto the table. Fear strikes me, its icy tendrils snake down my spine, almost enough to make me shake.
"Seto." But this time, it's a hushed whisper of panic. "Tell me now."
"It's none of your business." He finally splutters, not any better at hiding his emotions from me than I can from him. He doesn't look me in the eyes.
Seto-" He slams his hand on the desk and gets up, but before he can leave I grab his arm. With honed reflexes, I yank the sleeve up before I can even think.
It's a disgusting mosaic of healing cuts, bruises, and swollen red welts.
"RISANA." He yells, and I let go on startled instinct.
Seto has never yelled at me, not in that manner.
He yanks his arm back, wrenches the sleeve down, and sweeps out of my room with a slam of the door behind him.
I stare at the door, trying to process what I saw.
Connect the dots darling.
Seto's reclusiveness, his unwillingness to meet us, the extra trudge in his steps, the way his hands shook when he wrote. It meant this entire time, Seto had...that...and that I didn't notice.
The wooden back of the chair I'm holding splinters under my tight grip.
Bile rises in my throat.
I...I can't...I…
It's okay.
I black ou-
(✦✧✦✧)
By the time I come to, it's dark. I blink, disoriented, before sitting up. I'm in my bed, the lights are off. I go to pull my covers off, but one of my hands meets slight resistance. I look down, and I see that it's lightly bandaged.
Quickly, I check the clock. It's an hour later than when...I realized that Seto…
I threw the blankets off me and stood up, my heart trying to beat out of my chest.
No, no no. I had to talk to him. I had to figure this out.
...what... going to do?
What?
I pause, but a clarifying thought doesn't come.
I briefly squish the confusion back down to rush out of my room, coming to a stop in front of Seto's door.
I bit my lip, and tried the door.
It was locked.
Pausing, I gently knocked on the door.
"Seto…" I whisper, hoping he can hear me. "Seto, I'm sorry."
I pause and wait, but there's no response.
I knocked again.
"Seto, please let me in." I begged.
There's still no reply, so I sit down with my back against the door and hold my legs to my chest. The hall is dark, and the only light is coming in from the staircase, where it streams inside from the tall windows of the entrance hall. The walls block it from directly reaching any further than the exposed area, but the hall is cast in a pale blue light. It's complemented by the dark blue carpet runner that goes down the hall.
I dig my feet into the rug, but it doesn't provide me any support other than that.
It's completely quiet, save for the faint chirp of the crickets from outside. A breeze comes down the hall, crisp from the air conditioning, and I tuck my legs in a little more, trying to block out the chill. But I don't care about the darkness or the temperature. I'll wait here as long as I have to. I need to sort out my words, anyway.
Lamentably, I barely close my eyes before the fatigue hits me as usual. Despite one last desperate attempt at consciousness, I'm dragged into the consuming void of sleep.
I don't know how long I was asleep, but I stir at the muffled sound of footsteps. Then, I'm falling backwards, and I wake up with a yelp as I hit the floor.
My vision is slightly disoriented, but I see Seto standing over me, concern in his eyes and mouth open as if to say something. But then, his expression smoothes itself back out into something more guarded.
It's a look that makes my chest twinge with pain.
"What do you want, Risana?" He states flatly, and I quickly push myself off the floor.
Despite all the thoughts racing through my head, I'm tongue-tied. There's not a single word I could say that would be able to convey any of the emotions running through my mind. Not when I'm staring at my brother, twelve years old and wiry for his age, cheeks gaunter than they should be and eyes that have been weary for the past two years. There's no longer a spark in them, his energy and childishness stripped away by obligations and ambitions.
How could I have let this happen? How come I didn't notice, too wrapped up in my own hurdles to even think about the stress it would've had on my siblings? What type of bastard sister was I that I let Gozaburo do this to them?
I felt like I was getting ripped into a thousand little pieces, from inside out. The guilt was crushing me. Nothing means more to me than my brothers, nothing in the entire world. How could I have let this happen?
And all I want to do is slit Gozaburo's throat-no-I want him to suffer like we did, I want him to experience every single inch of our pain and more. I want him to feel this heavy weight on my heart that makes it hard to breathe. I...
I'm so…
"Sorry, Seto. I'm so sorry."
For the first time I can remember in two years, I cry. Seto's eyes widen, and he's frozen in place, but I don't care. It's all I can do to keep my whimpering quiet, and I try to rub the tears from my eyes but they keep on coming.
I quietly hear the door shut behind me, and then my face is against something warm. Seto pats my head, holding me close with a hug.
I bury my face in his shoulder, still sobbing something messy and ugly.
"I'm sorry Seto." I ramble between choked breaths, tasting salt in my mouth. "I didn't know, how could I let them do it to you too?!"
His hand stops stroking my hair, but I cling onto him even tighter. "Please don't leave Seto, please...I'll change it. I'll fix it. Don't leave."
But how could I fix something that was already done?
"I'm not leaving, Risa." Seto finally murmurs. He lets me cry it out for a few more minutes, before I let him detach to get me some tissues.
I blew my nose and sniffled, trying to focus on the mechanical parts scattered across the room as embarrassment came creeping back now that my emotions were settling. My head hurt, stress and exhaustion mixing together to press down on my brain painfully.
"S-Sorry about your shirt, Seto." I stuttered, my entire body shaking with cold and the aftermath of my melt down. I felt wretchedly vulnerable, all the things I've been trying to hide suddenly laid bare in front of me.
"It's ok." He said, but I didn't dare look him in the eyes.
He sighed, going over to the bed and raising up the cover. "Come here, you're freezing."
I tensed up. "Seto, I-"
"Let's talk about it tomorrow." He said, cutting me off. "I'm tired. You're tired. Let's talk later."
We stare at each other, two different people but inherently the same, and an understanding is silently reached. My brain finally clicks off, and I crawl into the fluffy covers, settling into the warm patch Seto had likely been sleeping in before. Seto does the same on the other side of me, and we both fall into a comfortable hush.
I curl up, and my tremors stop as I slowly warm up again. Seto's a warm presence at my back, and it brings me a solace I haven't experienced in a while.
Blinking weakly, I place my trust in my brother's word and fall out of existence.
Risana's technically the younger sister, but due to her mindset, you can see all the times when she fluctuates between her mental and physical age. A lot of the time, she sees herself as the oldest because of her mental age, and feels as if she needs to watch and protect her siblings, but she isn't immune to periods of weakness. Meanwhile, Seto sees her as his younger sister, even if she's much smarter than her age. He looks past her intellect and into the childish, fearful part of her that still relies on him, and sees it as his job to keep her and Mokuba safe. Seto rarely betrays his standing in that aspect, and tends to sometimes forget the capabilities of his siblings as well. Neither view is wrong, just two sides of the same coin, and they approach their goals in different ways personally, but with similarities that tend to reflect their upbringing. Not to mention all three have some serious abandonment issues.
Anyway, one more chapter left before we meet the other actual main characters in yugioh. :)