Child at Heart
Chapter 2
It was on a weekend when it happened.
We honestly didn't know! It wasn't our fault. We didn't know, for he never told us. He never told us how old he was, or when was his birthday. And it just happened to be that day when it...happened.
He was turning sixteen. And God gave him the greatest gift.
Yami and I were watching television that day, so we never knew until several days later. Joey had called, asking if we had seen Mokuba, for Mokuba had not appeared in school for days nor appeared where he was supposed to meet him.
" Uh...No?" I blinked at the phone. " No, we haven't seen him. Maybe he's just taking care of Seto."
" Doubt it." Joey swallowed. " Mokuba couldn't even take care of himself."
" Well, at least he might try." I shrugged. " In any case, there's a customer. Talk to ya later."
" Sure. Bye."
When we heard, we immediately rushed over to his mansion.
And as expected, there was no Mokuba.
He was pale as moonlight, with tired, cold, weary eyes. There was nothing to betray his emotions as he acknowledged us, exhausted and sorrowing.
" I'm so sorry." I said at first.
" Sorry is not enough." He replied quietly. " I know."
" So what are you going to do now?" Yami asked.
" Let things be." He answered. " That's all there is left."
" There is still hope Seto."
" Hope." He laughed bitterly. Then I saw tears running down those cheeks as he abruptly fell to his knees in front of us and began laughing.
" Hope! Do you not understand? Mokuba was my hope. Mokuba was the only hope I ever had. Hope! What hope is there, even if there still is?" And laughter, the horrible laughter of insanity. Yami grabbed on to him and rocked him, holding him close as the laughter turned into sobs. I held on to him as well, also crying.
Mokuba was dead.
We didn't know. How could we? We were watching a show, not a news channel. Young Mokuba had died when a drunken driver veered off the streets into the sidewalk. Mokuba died instantly. He had been walking home from school, when in came the car. Mokuba didn't even have time to dodge.
And now, we are at the mansion. Yami was holding him close, murmuring soothing sounds. But nothing can soothe him now, too strong was his grief. He wept into Yami's shoulder in a river of bitter tears, sobs shaking his body.
" It was my birthday." He lamented. " It was my birthday. He had to die that day. He had to!"
He was sixteen.
We stayed with him that night.
He was so desperate for companionship and comfort he didn't complain. Yami cooked for him while I tried to console him.
" Everything will be fine. Just hang on, alright?" I told him. " We're all here for you."
" You don't understand." He hiccupped. " You don't understand."
I blinked. What is there not to understand? But obviously he meant what he said. I said nothing as I helped him to the couch, and let him lean on me as he quieted down steadily.
Too much had happened.
Too much.
He stiffened, another breakout starting.
" Hush, calm down, it's alright." I told him. He reluctantly relaxed.
" I knew this would happen." He said, filled with torment. " I knew this would happen. I dreamed this, every night, nightmares." He closed his eyes.
" You wouldn't have been able to do anything." I pointed out.
" Why did it have to happen?" He asked, suddenly the sixteen year old that he was. " Why did it have to happen Yugi? To me? What did I do wrong?"
For that I had no answer.
Things were never the same.
We didn't understand. We knew this would be painful. But we didn't know how much. We didn't know, because we didn't know him. We never did. Sure, he was a champion, he was a multi-billionaire, he was a CEO. But that didn't mean we understood him. For a long time he withdrew into his own world. The corporation remained healthy, but he didn't. He was fading. Fading rapidly. Sometimes Yami would remark that he felt something going on at the mansion. Some magic at work, different from ours, but magic all the same.
He was fading.
We didn't know.
We didn't know. How could we? He never told us about his past. He never told us about himself. He never told us of his hopes and dreams, his wishes, his heart, his thoughts at night, his prayers. He never told us anything. There were no more tears-his eyes were dry. He had no voice. He is a ghost, a ghostly being that does not exist, does not exist in this world.
We found ourselves trying to find him.
Joey and Tristan didn't like him, and his behavior never really changed that. They did it for Mokuba. Young, sweet Mokuba, who was our dear little friend. He was his brother, so in turn we helped him, or tried to.
But we were grieving at the same time. We didn't provide much help.
It wasn't our fault. We didn't do anything wrong. It was him; he was too complicated for us. He has been through too much, so much that he saw right through us, and found out who we are. He knew that Joey had troubles with life but was able to deal with them. He knew Yami was a pharaoh at a young age and dealt with it. He knew we were strong. He knew we could help him, if only we saw. He tried to tell us, so many times, in any way he could risk, that he was weakening, that he needed help, that he needed ours. And every time he tried we did not see. We looked past that, only to see a multi-billionaire, cold and cruel, only caring about winning. We looked past and saw Mokuba and wondered how Mokuba could be so innocent and loving when his brother is so harsh and cold. It wasn't our fault.
It wasn't our fault. It's not that we didn't try to see. As Yami had said, we did try. But we couldn't see. A blind man from birth cannot see the color red no matter how much you describe it. And we-we were the blind men, who had never seen an elephant. We touched every part of it, and each one of us were right, but everyone was wrong.
And now he has given up. He gave up trying to call for us. Mokuba's death took the last out of him.
The funeral took place several weeks later. He was there, pale and ghostly. There was something unreal about him-he looked like a spirit. And then we saw Mokuba, lying in the coffin, pale, as pale as he was, but a picture of perfection. An innocent child that is no longer alive. Mokuba was wearing the pendant around his neck that holds his brother's picture.
When Mokuba was laid to rest, we hesitated before leaving. He remained there, staring at the grave for a long time. And when I saw his face, I saw a being filled with despair, so full that there was no room left for anything else.
Joey and I went over to his place soon after. It was a dull, dreary day, with the sky completely covered with clouds so the sun could hide effectively. He didn't answer the door, and the door was unlocked. He was tired, he was alone, and basically dead.
Joey had brains, even if we tease him, and he remained silent, only patting his arm before venturing to the kitchen. He knew that the brother hadn't eaten in quite a while.
I took it upon myself to sit down and try to get him to talk. I didn't have to try.
" I want my mommy."
The statement surprised me, but when I looked at him, his blue eyes were dull.
" I want my mommy. My daddy." He added. " I want my mommy and daddy. My grandma. My grandpa."
I looked at him sadly. " I know." I told him.
This was the only time I understood. He had never been able to call his parents by any other name. He was young when they were gone. How could he? So now, he had called them by that name all along, all through the years. Mommy. Daddy.
" Where's my baby brother?" He suddenly asked.
I decided to answer. " He is sleeping."
" Oh."
Joey was standing at the doorway looking at him weirdly.
' Everything alright?' He mouthed.
I cocked my head, meaning I wasn't sure. Sure, he wasn't breaking down or anything...is that good?
" When will he wake?" He suddenly asked.
" Um...I don't know," I said hesitantly. " Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."
He looked at me, and all of the sudden he looked young, very young.
He's a child, good god!
Staring at him, astonished, for a moment I couldn't speak. He looked at me with those clear blue eyes, now empty of all intelligence, just plain loving as only a heart could love. I was so surprised I didn't hear Joey call to us.
Lunch was ready.
Perhaps the strangest thing was, he didn't cry, didn't sob, didn't lament. He wasn't quiet. He was...almost normal. Like any other teenager, talking quietly, of old times, of things we didn't understand. He spoke of cars, drunken drivers, leukemia, orphanage, of duel monsters, of companies and corporations. He spoke of despair, of love. He told us about pills, how they can create huge side effects. I told him about Yami, about life in Egypt, as Yami had told me. He muttered about headaches and annoyances, of idiots, of simpletons, of puppies and kittens and baby birds falling out of trees. The order was so confusing we didn't know what he was talking about. Joey told about his father, bringing us back to the topic of alcohol. It was a seemingly boring conversation, but it was made interesting because it was the CEO who was talking about it.
We didn't understand. We probably never will. We thought that this means he is on his way to healing. Never were we more wrong.
I woke up with a start. It was late at night, and I was having the most disturbing dream.
// Are you alright, Yugi?// The voice of Yami echoed through my mind.
/ Fine, actually. Just a weird dream, that's all./ I answered.
// What is it about?//
It was actually about him. Him, wielding the strange magic of his. He was holding a golden rod, standing tall like a god, surrounded by flames. But there was something in him, something that stood where he stood. It was...
A child?
Who could have known, that his inner child had stood as a separate being, never growing, never fading, never appearing, simply standing with his older form. It was that child that holds the magic, not he. And yet he was the one that wielded it. He looked into my eyes, opening his mouth to tell me something, as the child also spoke as one. But the crackling of flames drowned out his words, and I cried desperately out to him to talk louder. He closed his mouth, shook his head, and he spun the rod once, there was a flash...
//Yugi?//
I sighed. / It involves Kaiba. It's creepy. Nothing special./
There was a silence. I didn't have to hear him to know that he wasn't as certain as I am.
" You're kidding." Bakura blinked. " A young Seto Kaiba?"
" He looked about Mokuba's age, probably older." I described. " Look, just picture, everything's black. Then picture Kaiba, wearing robes and his cloak flapping in the wind, surrounded by flames, holding a long golden staff in his right hand."
" It's already creepy enough as it is." Joey commented.
" Now, does anyone know how Kaiba looks like when he's about twelve?"
" Uh...well, once Mokuba's pendant thingie opened up. There's a picture of a small boy that looked like Kaiba...he looked about twelve?" Tristan tried to be helpful.
" Oh yeah," Tea said quietly. " I saw it too. Mokuba quickly closed it. It's as if he doesn't want anyone to see it except himself."
" And then he tried to talk to me." I sighed. " I caught only a few words. The child also said it at the same time. There were two voices. One older. One younger."
" What words did you hear?" Yami asked.
" You don't understand...you don't understand at all...something about dry tears, empty life, loneliness. He said something about help, but then I ran to him, asking him to speak louder, because I couldn't hear him. He just shook his head and there was a bright flash. The dream ended."
" Do you remember anything else?"
" Why're you diggin so deep into this topic?" Joey asked Yami. " It's just a dream, isn't it?"
" I'm not so sure." Yami looked serious. " Do you remember anything else?"
" Um..." I shifted uncomfortably. " No, not really..."
" This will have to do." Bakura pointed out. " Because Yugi is sensitive to such stuff, so maybe this is a prophetic dream after all."
" We know about the part of not understanding." Tea leaned back. " We understand the rod-he told us he had magic. Dry tears for Mokuba, maybe-"
" And his Mommy and Daddy."
" Mommy and Daddy?" Joey blinked. " Was that what he was saying while I was cookin?"
" Pretty much." I answered. " Dry tears for his parents and brother, empty life...loneliness. We know he's lonely. So why is he telling me this?"
" He mentioned help, remember?" Yami suddenly blinked. " Maybe he wanted your help."
" How should I help him?" I asked.
" I don't know."
" This is making my head spin." Joey groaned. " Why are we trying to help Kaiba in the first place?"
" I thought we've gone over that already." Yami snapped. " Look, maybe Kaiba needs our help. We probably should go get him."
We found him in a meadow.
There was a ring of fire, trapping him in there. I called out to him. He looked up; he was holding the staff. There were no robes though. No cloak.
" What are you fools doing here!?" He shouted, as the flames rose higher.
" Kaiba! What's going on?" Joey shouted.
The flames touched over head and formed a dome. We saw him through the flames. He spun his staff over his head and aimed it at the sky, towards the sun. There was a mighty blast, a flash, and there were wails of anger and pain. The flames settled. We rushed to him.
He had collapsed. He was clutching the staff for all he was worth. Holding on to it. Tristan gathered him into his arms.
" Kaiba, are you alright?" He asked.
He was covered with blood. There was a big gash at his temple. He was gasping for breath.
" I'm fine." He huffed. " I'm fine."
" You have a lot of explaining to do, Kaiba." Yami said to him seriously.
He said nothing.
" How did you find me?"
" Hey, we're the ones asking the questions here-"
" But I just want to know." He begged.
" To get started, we went to your mansion in hopes of looking for you." I told him. " When we found out that you weren't there, we went to the office. We went to the park. Then we saw smoke over there and went to check it out."
" Why were you trying to find me?"
" No more questions. We got one." Yami said seriously. " What were all the flames all about?"
He sighed. " I was at the meadow because I felt something there. I found the rod there, lying on the ground. Something came and attacked me."
" Sure. We knew." Joey pointed out. " Your wounds ain't burns."
He looked at Joey weirdly.
" He had a huge sword. It took all of my strength to block them with the staff. Then the rod just started glowing, and we shot rays at each other for a couple of minutes. I don't really know how it happened, but I got hit a few times, and it hurt like when Pegasus zapped me into the card. Then flames started up and that was when you appeared. Are you happy now?" He snapped.
" Shoot, as if Pegasus weren't enough for an enemy, now we have a guy after Kaiba. Have any ideas Yug?"
" No, because he couldn't possibly have any ideas if I don't. And I was the one who was attacked."
" True." Yami sighed. " Are you alright now?"
" Yeah," He answered. " I'm feeling very tired. I have absolutely no idea what all this nonsense is about."
He remained silent for a while.
" Thanks for coming along." He said softly.
I didn't know which to be more surprised at. The fact that he was grateful, or the fact that he admitted it.
" Speaking of which, we need to talk." Bakura began.
" About what?" He seemed distressed.
" About you." I began.
" What?"
" Well, for one thing. I had a dream last night." I began, rather awkwardly. " You were calling out to me. You were trying to tell me something. You were saying something about us not understanding, dry tears, loneliness, empty life, and something about help." I watched as suddenly his face grew pale. " I have a feeling this is more than a dream. So I need you to tell me the truth. And to tell me everything. Because I swear, you're not going to get away with it otherwise."
But when I looked at his face, he looked so distraught, that I almost regretted making that request.
" There's nothing to tell." He said sadly. " You don't hear."
Chapter 2
It was on a weekend when it happened.
We honestly didn't know! It wasn't our fault. We didn't know, for he never told us. He never told us how old he was, or when was his birthday. And it just happened to be that day when it...happened.
He was turning sixteen. And God gave him the greatest gift.
Yami and I were watching television that day, so we never knew until several days later. Joey had called, asking if we had seen Mokuba, for Mokuba had not appeared in school for days nor appeared where he was supposed to meet him.
" Uh...No?" I blinked at the phone. " No, we haven't seen him. Maybe he's just taking care of Seto."
" Doubt it." Joey swallowed. " Mokuba couldn't even take care of himself."
" Well, at least he might try." I shrugged. " In any case, there's a customer. Talk to ya later."
" Sure. Bye."
When we heard, we immediately rushed over to his mansion.
And as expected, there was no Mokuba.
He was pale as moonlight, with tired, cold, weary eyes. There was nothing to betray his emotions as he acknowledged us, exhausted and sorrowing.
" I'm so sorry." I said at first.
" Sorry is not enough." He replied quietly. " I know."
" So what are you going to do now?" Yami asked.
" Let things be." He answered. " That's all there is left."
" There is still hope Seto."
" Hope." He laughed bitterly. Then I saw tears running down those cheeks as he abruptly fell to his knees in front of us and began laughing.
" Hope! Do you not understand? Mokuba was my hope. Mokuba was the only hope I ever had. Hope! What hope is there, even if there still is?" And laughter, the horrible laughter of insanity. Yami grabbed on to him and rocked him, holding him close as the laughter turned into sobs. I held on to him as well, also crying.
Mokuba was dead.
We didn't know. How could we? We were watching a show, not a news channel. Young Mokuba had died when a drunken driver veered off the streets into the sidewalk. Mokuba died instantly. He had been walking home from school, when in came the car. Mokuba didn't even have time to dodge.
And now, we are at the mansion. Yami was holding him close, murmuring soothing sounds. But nothing can soothe him now, too strong was his grief. He wept into Yami's shoulder in a river of bitter tears, sobs shaking his body.
" It was my birthday." He lamented. " It was my birthday. He had to die that day. He had to!"
He was sixteen.
We stayed with him that night.
He was so desperate for companionship and comfort he didn't complain. Yami cooked for him while I tried to console him.
" Everything will be fine. Just hang on, alright?" I told him. " We're all here for you."
" You don't understand." He hiccupped. " You don't understand."
I blinked. What is there not to understand? But obviously he meant what he said. I said nothing as I helped him to the couch, and let him lean on me as he quieted down steadily.
Too much had happened.
Too much.
He stiffened, another breakout starting.
" Hush, calm down, it's alright." I told him. He reluctantly relaxed.
" I knew this would happen." He said, filled with torment. " I knew this would happen. I dreamed this, every night, nightmares." He closed his eyes.
" You wouldn't have been able to do anything." I pointed out.
" Why did it have to happen?" He asked, suddenly the sixteen year old that he was. " Why did it have to happen Yugi? To me? What did I do wrong?"
For that I had no answer.
Things were never the same.
We didn't understand. We knew this would be painful. But we didn't know how much. We didn't know, because we didn't know him. We never did. Sure, he was a champion, he was a multi-billionaire, he was a CEO. But that didn't mean we understood him. For a long time he withdrew into his own world. The corporation remained healthy, but he didn't. He was fading. Fading rapidly. Sometimes Yami would remark that he felt something going on at the mansion. Some magic at work, different from ours, but magic all the same.
He was fading.
We didn't know.
We didn't know. How could we? He never told us about his past. He never told us about himself. He never told us of his hopes and dreams, his wishes, his heart, his thoughts at night, his prayers. He never told us anything. There were no more tears-his eyes were dry. He had no voice. He is a ghost, a ghostly being that does not exist, does not exist in this world.
We found ourselves trying to find him.
Joey and Tristan didn't like him, and his behavior never really changed that. They did it for Mokuba. Young, sweet Mokuba, who was our dear little friend. He was his brother, so in turn we helped him, or tried to.
But we were grieving at the same time. We didn't provide much help.
It wasn't our fault. We didn't do anything wrong. It was him; he was too complicated for us. He has been through too much, so much that he saw right through us, and found out who we are. He knew that Joey had troubles with life but was able to deal with them. He knew Yami was a pharaoh at a young age and dealt with it. He knew we were strong. He knew we could help him, if only we saw. He tried to tell us, so many times, in any way he could risk, that he was weakening, that he needed help, that he needed ours. And every time he tried we did not see. We looked past that, only to see a multi-billionaire, cold and cruel, only caring about winning. We looked past and saw Mokuba and wondered how Mokuba could be so innocent and loving when his brother is so harsh and cold. It wasn't our fault.
It wasn't our fault. It's not that we didn't try to see. As Yami had said, we did try. But we couldn't see. A blind man from birth cannot see the color red no matter how much you describe it. And we-we were the blind men, who had never seen an elephant. We touched every part of it, and each one of us were right, but everyone was wrong.
And now he has given up. He gave up trying to call for us. Mokuba's death took the last out of him.
The funeral took place several weeks later. He was there, pale and ghostly. There was something unreal about him-he looked like a spirit. And then we saw Mokuba, lying in the coffin, pale, as pale as he was, but a picture of perfection. An innocent child that is no longer alive. Mokuba was wearing the pendant around his neck that holds his brother's picture.
When Mokuba was laid to rest, we hesitated before leaving. He remained there, staring at the grave for a long time. And when I saw his face, I saw a being filled with despair, so full that there was no room left for anything else.
Joey and I went over to his place soon after. It was a dull, dreary day, with the sky completely covered with clouds so the sun could hide effectively. He didn't answer the door, and the door was unlocked. He was tired, he was alone, and basically dead.
Joey had brains, even if we tease him, and he remained silent, only patting his arm before venturing to the kitchen. He knew that the brother hadn't eaten in quite a while.
I took it upon myself to sit down and try to get him to talk. I didn't have to try.
" I want my mommy."
The statement surprised me, but when I looked at him, his blue eyes were dull.
" I want my mommy. My daddy." He added. " I want my mommy and daddy. My grandma. My grandpa."
I looked at him sadly. " I know." I told him.
This was the only time I understood. He had never been able to call his parents by any other name. He was young when they were gone. How could he? So now, he had called them by that name all along, all through the years. Mommy. Daddy.
" Where's my baby brother?" He suddenly asked.
I decided to answer. " He is sleeping."
" Oh."
Joey was standing at the doorway looking at him weirdly.
' Everything alright?' He mouthed.
I cocked my head, meaning I wasn't sure. Sure, he wasn't breaking down or anything...is that good?
" When will he wake?" He suddenly asked.
" Um...I don't know," I said hesitantly. " Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."
He looked at me, and all of the sudden he looked young, very young.
He's a child, good god!
Staring at him, astonished, for a moment I couldn't speak. He looked at me with those clear blue eyes, now empty of all intelligence, just plain loving as only a heart could love. I was so surprised I didn't hear Joey call to us.
Lunch was ready.
Perhaps the strangest thing was, he didn't cry, didn't sob, didn't lament. He wasn't quiet. He was...almost normal. Like any other teenager, talking quietly, of old times, of things we didn't understand. He spoke of cars, drunken drivers, leukemia, orphanage, of duel monsters, of companies and corporations. He spoke of despair, of love. He told us about pills, how they can create huge side effects. I told him about Yami, about life in Egypt, as Yami had told me. He muttered about headaches and annoyances, of idiots, of simpletons, of puppies and kittens and baby birds falling out of trees. The order was so confusing we didn't know what he was talking about. Joey told about his father, bringing us back to the topic of alcohol. It was a seemingly boring conversation, but it was made interesting because it was the CEO who was talking about it.
We didn't understand. We probably never will. We thought that this means he is on his way to healing. Never were we more wrong.
I woke up with a start. It was late at night, and I was having the most disturbing dream.
// Are you alright, Yugi?// The voice of Yami echoed through my mind.
/ Fine, actually. Just a weird dream, that's all./ I answered.
// What is it about?//
It was actually about him. Him, wielding the strange magic of his. He was holding a golden rod, standing tall like a god, surrounded by flames. But there was something in him, something that stood where he stood. It was...
A child?
Who could have known, that his inner child had stood as a separate being, never growing, never fading, never appearing, simply standing with his older form. It was that child that holds the magic, not he. And yet he was the one that wielded it. He looked into my eyes, opening his mouth to tell me something, as the child also spoke as one. But the crackling of flames drowned out his words, and I cried desperately out to him to talk louder. He closed his mouth, shook his head, and he spun the rod once, there was a flash...
//Yugi?//
I sighed. / It involves Kaiba. It's creepy. Nothing special./
There was a silence. I didn't have to hear him to know that he wasn't as certain as I am.
" You're kidding." Bakura blinked. " A young Seto Kaiba?"
" He looked about Mokuba's age, probably older." I described. " Look, just picture, everything's black. Then picture Kaiba, wearing robes and his cloak flapping in the wind, surrounded by flames, holding a long golden staff in his right hand."
" It's already creepy enough as it is." Joey commented.
" Now, does anyone know how Kaiba looks like when he's about twelve?"
" Uh...well, once Mokuba's pendant thingie opened up. There's a picture of a small boy that looked like Kaiba...he looked about twelve?" Tristan tried to be helpful.
" Oh yeah," Tea said quietly. " I saw it too. Mokuba quickly closed it. It's as if he doesn't want anyone to see it except himself."
" And then he tried to talk to me." I sighed. " I caught only a few words. The child also said it at the same time. There were two voices. One older. One younger."
" What words did you hear?" Yami asked.
" You don't understand...you don't understand at all...something about dry tears, empty life, loneliness. He said something about help, but then I ran to him, asking him to speak louder, because I couldn't hear him. He just shook his head and there was a bright flash. The dream ended."
" Do you remember anything else?"
" Why're you diggin so deep into this topic?" Joey asked Yami. " It's just a dream, isn't it?"
" I'm not so sure." Yami looked serious. " Do you remember anything else?"
" Um..." I shifted uncomfortably. " No, not really..."
" This will have to do." Bakura pointed out. " Because Yugi is sensitive to such stuff, so maybe this is a prophetic dream after all."
" We know about the part of not understanding." Tea leaned back. " We understand the rod-he told us he had magic. Dry tears for Mokuba, maybe-"
" And his Mommy and Daddy."
" Mommy and Daddy?" Joey blinked. " Was that what he was saying while I was cookin?"
" Pretty much." I answered. " Dry tears for his parents and brother, empty life...loneliness. We know he's lonely. So why is he telling me this?"
" He mentioned help, remember?" Yami suddenly blinked. " Maybe he wanted your help."
" How should I help him?" I asked.
" I don't know."
" This is making my head spin." Joey groaned. " Why are we trying to help Kaiba in the first place?"
" I thought we've gone over that already." Yami snapped. " Look, maybe Kaiba needs our help. We probably should go get him."
We found him in a meadow.
There was a ring of fire, trapping him in there. I called out to him. He looked up; he was holding the staff. There were no robes though. No cloak.
" What are you fools doing here!?" He shouted, as the flames rose higher.
" Kaiba! What's going on?" Joey shouted.
The flames touched over head and formed a dome. We saw him through the flames. He spun his staff over his head and aimed it at the sky, towards the sun. There was a mighty blast, a flash, and there were wails of anger and pain. The flames settled. We rushed to him.
He had collapsed. He was clutching the staff for all he was worth. Holding on to it. Tristan gathered him into his arms.
" Kaiba, are you alright?" He asked.
He was covered with blood. There was a big gash at his temple. He was gasping for breath.
" I'm fine." He huffed. " I'm fine."
" You have a lot of explaining to do, Kaiba." Yami said to him seriously.
He said nothing.
" How did you find me?"
" Hey, we're the ones asking the questions here-"
" But I just want to know." He begged.
" To get started, we went to your mansion in hopes of looking for you." I told him. " When we found out that you weren't there, we went to the office. We went to the park. Then we saw smoke over there and went to check it out."
" Why were you trying to find me?"
" No more questions. We got one." Yami said seriously. " What were all the flames all about?"
He sighed. " I was at the meadow because I felt something there. I found the rod there, lying on the ground. Something came and attacked me."
" Sure. We knew." Joey pointed out. " Your wounds ain't burns."
He looked at Joey weirdly.
" He had a huge sword. It took all of my strength to block them with the staff. Then the rod just started glowing, and we shot rays at each other for a couple of minutes. I don't really know how it happened, but I got hit a few times, and it hurt like when Pegasus zapped me into the card. Then flames started up and that was when you appeared. Are you happy now?" He snapped.
" Shoot, as if Pegasus weren't enough for an enemy, now we have a guy after Kaiba. Have any ideas Yug?"
" No, because he couldn't possibly have any ideas if I don't. And I was the one who was attacked."
" True." Yami sighed. " Are you alright now?"
" Yeah," He answered. " I'm feeling very tired. I have absolutely no idea what all this nonsense is about."
He remained silent for a while.
" Thanks for coming along." He said softly.
I didn't know which to be more surprised at. The fact that he was grateful, or the fact that he admitted it.
" Speaking of which, we need to talk." Bakura began.
" About what?" He seemed distressed.
" About you." I began.
" What?"
" Well, for one thing. I had a dream last night." I began, rather awkwardly. " You were calling out to me. You were trying to tell me something. You were saying something about us not understanding, dry tears, loneliness, empty life, and something about help." I watched as suddenly his face grew pale. " I have a feeling this is more than a dream. So I need you to tell me the truth. And to tell me everything. Because I swear, you're not going to get away with it otherwise."
But when I looked at his face, he looked so distraught, that I almost regretted making that request.
" There's nothing to tell." He said sadly. " You don't hear."