Song Choice for this Chapter: Can't Cool Me Down - Car Seat Headrest

X

"Hey! We're not supposed to be here...

My blood is dirty water, drain it, bleed it, wash it down the drain.

Devil in the eyes of somebody else's mistake. I am dripping with sweat, my hands...I can't hold anything in my hands. I've only made one mistake in my life, I've only made one mistake...Cool water on my brow can't cool me down. No, it can't cool me down."

X

They arrived only a few minutes later. Marie stepped out of the limousine and looked up at the looming mansion with some trepidation. It looked like something straight out of a murder-mystery novel. The windows glowed with a pale, gloomy light. Somewhere inside, someone was playing a cello and doing a very bad job of it.

"Please tell me we came to the wrong house."

"Nope," Seto said, climbing out the other side. "Don't look so worried. I didn't bring you here to kill you, even if my shareholders look like they were just dug up out of their graves."

"Not that it has anything to do with me," she said, rubbing the goosebumps on her shoulders. "Just...point me to the bathroom with the cocaine and strippers as soon as we get inside, okay?"

"Not that kind of party, I'm afraid."

"A merry evening to you, Mr. Kaiba, sir," the chauffeur said, leaning over the passenger seat and smiling out the window. "And the same to you, Antoinette!"

"Wha? I'm not-"

"Excuse me," the chauffeur said, putting a gloved hand to his chest. "I meant to say Gabrielle."

"Erin," Seto said in a warning voice. The chauffeur gave a mock look of surprise and put his hand to his head.

"Oh, pardon me, sir," he said. "I'm afraid my eyesight isn't what it used to be. All of your ladies are starting to look quite the same."

Marie spun around. "YOU FUCKIN'-"

Seto quickly shut the door between them.

"Don't mind him," Seto said, ruffling his hand beneath his tuxedo coat and pulling out a notepad. He wrote something on it and then stuck it back in a pocket beneath the fabric. "That man's about to resemble a body at the crematorium."

"SETO!" She exclaimed, pinching his shoulder.

"What?! I only mean that he's going to be fired! Hell, Marie, I wasn't going to kill the guy!"

"'Course you weren't," she muttered, tugging anxiously at her collar. "S'not his fault he can't distinguish between all the girls that like to ride your-"

"Marie," he growled.

"Limo! I was gonna say limo! God damn..."

"Marie!" Suddenly Mokuba came bounding down the staircase. She could have thanked her lucky stars for his impeccable timing. "Hi!" He said, skidding to a stop in front of them. "Wow, you look great! What's up, big bro?"

"I was just in the middle of being accused of premeditating a murder," Seto said, tucking his chin and flashing that special smile reserved only for his brother. "Among other things."

"Oh," Mokuba said, not an etching of surprise on his face. "I guess some things never change, huh, Seto?"

"You got that right. What's the forecast in there?

"Cloudy with a chance of dry alfredo pasta." Mokuba stuck his tongue out with a gag and Marie giggled. "I hope you guys already ate."

"Fueled up on coffee and ice cream," she said.

"Great," Mokuba said. "Well...come on! If we wait any longer the shareholders might just bore each other to death."

"Now wouldn't that be a crying shame," Seto said. He took her arm, and together they walked up the staircase. She felt like Cinderella on her way to the ball. Except, she realized, this wasn't going to be like any ball that she had ever been to.

The inside of the mansion was large, large enough to make her dizzy as she looked up at the several levels leading to the glass dome ceiling. Every inch of the space had been filled with gold-hued antiques, red velvet settees, and marble accent pieces. Whoever owned the mansion obviously had enough money to outbid every patron at the period piece auction. As she stumbled through the halls, she did her best to keep her limbs as close together as possible. One wrong move and she was bound to shatter one of the hundreds of vases and kintsugi flower pots lining the walls. She felt like she was in an overflowing toy box full of rich collector pieces meant to showcase the owner's wealth, not their sense of taste.

"How much do you think all of this costs?" She wondered out loud as she squeezed her way around a glinting set of Japanese armor. Seto shrugged.

"Enough to supply several third world countries with enough electricity and running water to last for decades." He casually flicked the eye guard on the set of armor. "And then some," he added, rubbing the dust off of his fingers.

She squeezed his arm tighter. Was it her imagination or were the eyes on the ancient portraits following her every move? "Glad to see that your shareholders have their priorities straight."

"I'd suggest you hold on to that sardonic sense of judgment. It may be the only thing that'll get you through this night. Marie," Seto stopped in front of the large marble doors and looked down at her. "Maybe I should have told you this before, but this dinner party isn't going to be what you think. The only thing that matters tonight is playing the game and playing it well. Tell me. Can you guess the one thing that these people hate more than their own miserable lives?"

"You?"

"That's right. Me," Seto said with a smug smile. "That's why we're here: to show that we're capable of pretending to be civil. It's what they'll expect. Whoever breaks first and shows even an iota of the distaste that we all feel is going to be the night's biggest loser. Got it, Marie?" Mokuba sidled up beside him, glanced back at Marie with appraising eyes, and then put his tiny hands on the door. "Keep your head up," Seto added beneath his breath. "Because they're going to try to rip it right off of you."

Mokuba pushed the marble doors open, revealing a large dining room. A large fountain was situated at the end of the dinner table which boasted an array of exotic-looking dishes. Several men and women stood on either side of the table, their hands on the back of their chairs. As they stepped inside, all heads swiveled her way and immediately Marie knew that she had made a mistake. The shareholders were dressed in gloomy hues of black and grey that matched the tapestries on the walls and the black-dyed water running from the fountain. She saw several women run their eyes up and down her shimmery outfit. Their disapproval of her choice of clothing was palpable.

She took a deep breath in and let it out in a shaky sigh. She wanted to run: far, far away from the shitshow that she knew was on the verge of happening. It was pathetic, in a way: back home in her apartment, she had felt so empowered when she slipped on Tea's blue dress. Now, she felt like a silly kid who had gotten into her mother's closet and found her way into the most vulgar article of clothing.

"Seto!" A man boomed, walking towards them with open arms. His stomach jiggled over his belt with every step. "Glad to finally see you out of your office! You know, a lack of sunlight can make a boy look very sallow."

"Mr. Matsui," Seto said in a neutral tone, looking for all the world as if he hadn't just been subtly insulted. "My compliments to your wife. I can tell that she's become one hell of a good cook."

Mr. Matsui chuckled and put a hand on his bulging gut. "Why, yes, she has. And I'm sure if your mother was alive she'd be one hell of a good cook, too. Lucky for you, you never quite got the opportunity to put on any baby fat. Slim as a slithering snake," Mr. Matsui licked his lips and then turned his eyes on Marie. "And which one is this?"

"This is Ms. Marie Tonette," Seto offered, giving her a slight nudge on the back. She jumped with an embarrassing squeal and then gave a quick bow. She hadn't even heard the two men talking, so busy was she eyeing the women whispering behind their palms.

"Oh, right...your new...personal advisor. Tell me, what happened to Mr. Woodsworth? I quite liked him."

"He attacked Seto with a bucket of pig's blood," Marie said quickly, without thinking. "Turns out he wasn't the most likable of guys."

"Well," Mr. Matsui said, a slight twitch in his lip. "God finds many ways to keep his creations humble, eh? Although," he said, his eyes roving once more over Seto, "not always does he succeed. Come, now, join us! We can't risk the food getting cold! It'd be a shame to deprive you of a few extra pounds now, eh, Seto, m'boy?"

Everything about the situation made Marie want to retch. She didn't know how Seto managed to do it. He looked so calm and uninterested as he pulled back her chair and waited as she settled into it. By chance, she looked up and caught his eye. All she needed was a little flicker of something conspiratorial to remind her that he had her back. But his eyes had taken on that soulless and intimidating vacancy that made him so good at playing the part of the bully.

If it could say that he was even playing it at all.

She scooted her chair in - the sound of it making an awful scraping noise that rang through the room - and looked down at the plate set in front of her. It was covered in every sort of crustacean imaginable: crab with the shell still on, tiny curled crayfish, blood-red lobsters, still-pink shrimps, and prawns. There were even oysters with pearls nestled in their shiny flesh.

Seto held a mussel up and regarded it with dislike.

"My brother's allergic to shellfish," Mokuba said as Seto dropped the mussel on his plate with a loud 'clunk.'

"Riiiight," one of the women said. Marie had made a mental catalog of the women surrounding her: PeachPinkLipstick, ClunkyGoldEarrings, and BadlyDoneHairDye. "It must have slipped the chef's attention...again," PeachPinkLipstick added. "But, Seto, I think I may have some graham crackers and apple juice in the back if you'd like for the help to get you some."

"That won't be necessary," Mokuba said, pushing his plate away. "Luckily, we already ate before we came here."

BadlyDoneHairDye sniffed and crossed her arm. "You know, when my son was your age, Mokuba, he was busy concerning himself with girls and sports, as boys should. I'd like to think that he turned out well."

"Good for him," Marie said, looking up from her plate. She pushed it away and nestled her hands between her thighs. If Seto and Mokuba weren't going to eat, then neither was she. "Maybe he'll do well enough to apprentice under Mokuba one day. Same age, but I'm sure that Mokuba has a lot more to talk about than girls and sports."

There was a gasp and a ripple of women fanning themselves up and down the table. BadlyDoneHairDye twisted her lips into a frown and stabbed her fork into the mound of pasta on her plate. ClunkyGoldEarring put her hand on her shoulder and turned to Marie with a wicked glint in her eye.

"So...misses Tonette," she said. Everything about her voice in that moment made Marie want to jump from her chair and pull out two old-fashioned pistols. "How are you settling into your new position as Seto's advisor? You seem rather bright-eyed, bushy-tailed for someone with the odds stacked against them."

"What fucking odds?" Marie growled and the women gasped again.

"Well you're - pardon me, dear - but you're woefully underqualified. Even if Seto does have a penchant for letting little girls get a foot up on his neck."

Marie glanced at Seto. He had his arms crossed and was watching her from the corner of his eyes: waiting to see what she would do. Mokuba patted her knee beneath the table. The message was loud and clear: you got this.

"Actually, I am qualified. I worked with a progressive startup back home in California. I served as head advisor and social media consultant while attending school at the same time. My direct supervisor at KC knew that, that's why he hired me on the spot despite my…'disadvantages.'"

"Mm-hm," Mr. Matsui said, watching her carefully. "And what was the name of this progressive startup back home in California?"

Marie hesitated a little. "Barkbook...it was like a…social media platform…for….dogs."

The female shareholders chuckled and Mr. Matsui's grin widened. "And what was your relationship to the head of this company?"

Marie blushed heavily as Seto took a breath in and closed his eyes. "He was my stepdad," Marie whispered, her throat suddenly painfully dry. Mr. Matsui gave a loud laugh and promptly belched.

"A family affair! Cute," he said, balling his fist in front of his mouth. "Glad to see that over here at KaibaCorps we still maintain a sense of sentimentality for the less fortunate. I see why you like her, Seto. She's just like you!"

"And just what's that supposed to mean?" Seto asked, an awful edge in his voice.

"Nothing, nothing at all, m'boy. And, Marie, would you care to enlighten us as to your top stock picks for this season? Trust me, I am quivering in anticipation for your wisdom."

Okay, this she could do. Marie had always had a head for numbers and finances, thanks in part to the avid training from her stepfather. "PPU, VFC, and S&C-"

"-eh?" A shareholder with thin, gold-rimmed glasses and a sparse upper lip mustache looked up at her in surprise. "Would that be ProdPscyh, Vita Farms, and Steller-Conway?"

"Yes-"

"But those are all drug companies!" BadlyDoneHairDye exclaimed. "Goodness me, Marie, we're talking about stocks, not your local dealer!"

"No- no!" Marie cried over the sound of laughter. She hurriedly stood up and placed her hands on the table. "These are companies that have dedicated years' worth of research to the healing effects of psychedelics and marijuana on trauma and PTSD! There are so many breakthroughs on the verge of happening! We finally have the power to heal our veterans and-"

"Do you consider yourself a veteran, Marie?" Mr. Matsui asked, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. "Or do you just partake in recreational usage?"

"Seto-" she said, turning to him. Why aren't you saying anything, she so badly wanted to ask him, are you just going to let them tear me apart? But he said nothing. He didn't even move. He still had his arms crossed and his eyes closed. It was as if he wasn't even there.

"Oh, leave the girl alone," PeachPinkLipstick said, running her teeth along the edge of a clamshell. "She's still finding her footing. So, tell us, dear. As Seto's lovely PA, where, pray tell, do you see KC in the next five years?"

Marie realized that she was still standing with her hands balled on the table. She sat down slowly, mentally willing herself to stay calm.

Whoever breaks first and shows even an iota of the distaste that we all feel is going to be the night's biggest loser. Got it, Marie?

That's what Seto had told her. He was giving her a chance to prove that she could do it without his help. There were sharks in the water and they smelled blood. Either she fought them off on her own or she thrashed around until he took pity and helped her.

"Global outreach," she said slowly, "in five years, that's what KaibaCorps will be known for. Along with bleeding-edge duel disks, of course."

"You think so, do you?" Mr. Matsui asked.

"No, I don't think so. I know so. Because I'll be spearheading this project. I have plans to build KC-sponsored schools in several developing countries, with a focus on STEM for all youth regardless of gender or race."

GoldClunkyEarrings suddenly coughed and choked around a pearl. Mr. Matsui slapped her back impatiently and Marie continued, unfettered, "Seto Kaiba and his brother are shining emblems of what everyone is capable of if given the proper tutelage and resources. Sure, these schools will be focused on STEM but, more than that, I want them to be a fast-track into KaibaCorps itself. Ten years and we will have droves of highly qualified young men and women at our doors, ready to contribute to our mission."

ThinGoldGlasses was picking at his mustache, a look of utter bewilderment on his face. "But have you considered the expenses? What will be the return?"

"I just said, 'in five years and we will have droves of highly qualified young men and women at our doors!" She said, slamming her fist on the table. Seto opened his eyes and looked over at her, but she didn't even notice. She was on a rampage and not willing to settle down any time soon. "I know what kind of return you're talking about, but let me return with this: I've seen our finances. We can afford to invest in an educated and empowered future, with the added benefit of KC trained-"

"MARIE, ENOUGH!" Mr. Matsui suddenly yelled. The whole room fell quiet and looked over at him. There was blood sliding along his fists from where he had set it down on a knife. He lifted his hand, regarded it with disdain, and then flagged over one of the several butlers lining the walls. The butler rushed over and Mr. Matsui quickly wiped his hand on the man's lapel.

"Ugh, you've made my indigestion act up," he said with another wet belch. "If you don't mind, Maggie, I'd rather talk about more sensible and attractive matters. Seto," he said, turning in his seat. "How is Mizumi? I haven't seen her in a while. I do miss her go-get-'em attitude."

"Mizumi was relieved of her duties at KC," Mokuba said quickly. "She tried to sabotage Seto."

"Oh yes, so on brand," PeachPinkLipstick said with a satisfied nod. "That woman always had...gusto. And such a darling sense of fashion. She'd never wear a ball gown to a dinner party."

"Maybe you didn't hear Mokuba," Seto finally said. "And I understand that that may be a sign of early-onset 'maturity'...but Mizumi tried to sabotage me and, by extension, this very company that you've all invested i-."

"I'm sure she had good reason," ThinGoldGlasses said, cutting into a slab of steak. Marie watched the slivers of pinkish fluid rush out of the cut and suddenly felt very sick. She stood up, her vision reeling and head pounding.

"Saaaaay...Seto…" Mr. Matsui said slowly, for some reason holding ThinGoldenGlasses' eye. "Have you put any thought into what'll happen to KC if you were to step down?"

"Mokuba's next in line," Seto said as Marie hurriedly downed a glass of chardonnay, spilling half of it across the front of her dress. "I thought we were all in agreement. Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe it was my mistake for placing my faith in the memory of you sniveling old crows."

Mr. Matsui grinned, shot another look at his fellow shareholders. "Are you starting to feel the heat of our scrutiny on your neck, Seto? I imagine that's how Icarus felt before he was burned by the sun."

"I gotta go-" she croaked.

Seto suddenly reared up and fixed Mr. Matsui with a challenging stare. "Is that a threat, Matsui?"

"Depends. Are you easily threatened by cautionary children's tales, Seto?"

"I gotta-" she whirled around and slammed face-first into one of the butlers. The man stumbled back with a dismayed cry as the bucket of iced champagne that he had been carrying toppled in between them. Marie ran, stumbled once in her heels, and fell flat out on the floor in the puddle of ice. She wasn't sure what she was hearing: it could have been laughter, a collective gasp, or multiple people cursing her clumsiness. There was a faint buzzing in her ears, like a wasp was spinning in dizzying circles around her skull.

"Marie-" she heard a familiar voice say through the cacophony. She looked up and into Seto's face, pieces of ice sliding off of her forehead and melting along her collar. For the first time in a long time, he looked worried and even a bit afraid. He held his hand out - a pale and blurry dove in her swimming vision - and she pushed it away. Feeling crazy and desperate and stupid, she reached out and pulled herself up by his lapels. She could hear clearly now: everyone was laughing at her. She knew then by the numbing of her fingers as she slipped them in his pants pocket that she was having a panic attack.

Somewhere behind her came Mokuba's voice: cool and encouraging. Seto snapped his fingers twice in her face and her vision refocused on him.

"Don't-" she stuttered from between chattering teeth, pulling several crisp dollar bills from the innards of his wallet. She pushed the wallet against his chest and he stumbled back into Mokuba. "Don't follow me," she warned. "Don't-...don't…"

"Marie - stop. Breathe," Seto said, "Look at me - breathe, damn it, breathe!"

"Someone call an ambulance," she heard Mokuba call out. "Now!"

"Seto - don't...fucking…" her voice was quivering terribly, so much so that she could barely speak. He leaned in closer, fear making his brows crease and jaw hang slack. She pressed a hand to her trembling lips, glanced once more at the grinning shareholders standing around the dinner table, turned on her heel, and hightailed it out the door.