Version 2.0
By Jinx&Jedi
.:: Chapter II - Exhibition ::.
Los Angeles, California
Thursday, October 24,
2002
The dark, dismal night faded slowly away into a
gloomy, overcast dawn over the city of Los Angeles. Thunderstorms had raced
in from the sea in long squall-lines during the night, scouring the city
with sheets of torrential rain. They had tapered off as morning came; storms
turning into thick, misty fog that seeped through anything in it's path
- even the thick walls of the hotel. Mokuba and he had woken up feeling
chilled despite their suite's advanced heating and cooling system and the
luxurious beds and bedding. Halfway through breakfast the mist turned to
drizzle, and from drizzle to a steady shower. As he was shaking out his
umbrella for the short walk to the Los Angeles Convention Center the rain
made its final transformation, this time into a heavy downpour. It would
be a clear day today if the storms cleared, but the reports on the television
indicated nothing but rain.
Kaiba gazed dispassionately out in the deluge, regretting
his decision to forgo the limousine or a taxi for a short, brisk walk to
the Los Angeles Convention Center. He sighed a noisy nasal growl, but otherwise
said nothing. He had pretty much stopped swearing over the little things
over the past months, choosing instead to save them for times he particularly
needed them to underscore a statement. The abnormal, giddy, screwball mood
he had found himself in last night had faded overnight and left him feeling
drained and apathetic.
The young CEO braced himself as he shoved the doors
open, jerking the umbrella open as he went through. A gust of wet air hit
him full in the face, ruffling his hair and the lapels of his black trench
coat as the spray made a crackling sound as it struck the mahogany-colored
leather of his briefcase. He grimaced and began to walk, holding up his
collar in a vain attempt to keep the spray from rolling down his neck.
"Seto! Wait up!"
'Hmm . . . let me think . . . no!' Kaiba
thought, breaking into a brisk pace.
"Seto!" The girl yelled again, he could hear her
footsteps drumming wetly against the sidewalk, "Wait!"
Kaiba rolled his eyes irreverently as he turned
and stopped; people were starting to stare.
She skidded to a soggy stop in front of him, but
remarkably managed not to splash him. Grinning from ear to ear, she readjusted
the hood of her bright green raincoat to recover her hair, breathing hard
from her brief sprint, "G'morning Seto!"
"Tennant." Seto frostily nodded his greeting as
he turned to continue walking.
The young, brunette woman fell into step at his
side, her hands jammed into the blocky pockets of the slicker. Kaiba searched
his mind for her name but failed; she wasn't in his Dueling League nor
even his league as a duelist. He rarely remembered names of those he usually
would never encounter in a duel, and even less to those he knew would never
win against him - it simply wasn't worth it. He usually just memorized
their surname and called it good. She was still breathing hard, but to
her credit was regaining her breath faster than many duelists he'd met.
She kept brushing her hair out of her face as the wind caught them, blinking
away the spray that drifted and swirled through the air.
Impatient, Kaiba increased his pace slightly, "Yes?"
"Oh, I just wanted to walk with someone."
Seto snorted, "Really? Afraid you might get lost?"
He swept his briefcase to a skyline dominated by buildings framing the
massive complex like a painting, his index finger and thumb indicating
the way.
It was her turn to snort, "No, but if this were
a Role-playing Festival I could safely say I was looking for a knight to
protect me from Bandits."
Kaiba felt his mouth quirk, "Then I guess you're
quite popular around here, --?"
" - Autumn." She finished for him.
"Autumn." He finished, "And you think I'm that knight?
How charming."
"Tall, dark, handsome . . ." She interrupted lightly.
"Delightful." He muttered sarcastically as increased
his pace another notch.
"I also wanted to thank you again for dinner last
night. Did you have a good night?"
Seto nodded his answer. Last night, after the incident
with Pegasus, he had treated her to dinner at the restaurant he had made
reservations with. It had smoothed the feathers ruffled by Weevil's immaturity
and had paved the way for him to discuss the sale of the "House of Sticky
Tape" properly. Sometimes he loved being the Champion of a game as renowned
for its psychological encounters as it was for its monsters.
"Anyroad . . . are you Dueling today? I'm in Group
Eight since I don't have a ranking in this League yet. I'm a little nervous:
Exodia-based decks are really popular now. I find it hard to believe
that with so many people not liking the Time Magician since it relies
on chance that so many would think Exodia is so much better. What
do you think?" Autumn paused as she sidestepped a puddle, "Yugi Moto really
did something when he beat you using Exodia. I'm confident Duelists
are trying to find combinations to make drawing him easier. Would you mind
looking at my deck for me? Like I said I'm really nervous -"
". . . Do they ever shut up on your planet?" Seto's
lip curled as he turned and held his arms outward in exasperation. He leaned
down until face was scant inches from hers as he lowered his voice threateningly,
"I am Seto Kaiba in case you missed that. I'm not playing tutor
to the amateurs and I am not discussing current strategy nor the
intricacies of deck construction with you. If you want an escort: Shut
up and walk."
Autumn muttered an apology and something about it
being due to her nerves, falling silently into step a few paces behind
him. The rest of the walk was done in a silence comfortable for him, although
he could almost feel her straining against it.
When they reached the Center, he held the door for
her to permit her to enter first. There was no sense in earning another
aggravating, maternal lecture from Mizuko; though he was becoming rather
fond of her in an odd way. As soon as they were inside, Kaiba grunted a
"good luck" to Autumn and began to stalk away through the vendor booths
and steadily growing crowd for the South Exhibit Hall. Turnout was going
to be surprisingly good for this event, despite its relative unimportance
in the Circuits.
"Will you at least watch me duel?" Autumn called
after him, her voice pitched to the brink it almost made her sound desperate.
"No." He yelled above the din without even turning
around. His security people moved away to flank the door as he approached,
not needing to see a badge to confirm his identity.
"Seto?" Came the final, pleading call from her as
the door closed behind him with a satisfying click.
Kaiba sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose
momentarily before he removed his damp trench coat and draped it over a
folding chair and leaned his umbrella against the wall nearest the door
he had entered through. He yanked the chair over to sit in front of the
umbrella and nodded to the KaibaCorp Security Guard standing nearby. The
South Exhibit Hall was huge, though within hours it would likely seem tiny.
The ceiling had been quoted as being about forty feet high and the space
at nearly three-hundred, fifty-thousand square feet in size.
Hi-low's were buzzing around the hall like a swarm
of humongous, mutated mosquitoes as they delivered pieces of KaibaCorp's
prized Holographic Dueling Platforms to their various locations around
the hall while others hauled misshapen bundles of pipe and flat, metal
pieces that were supposed to assemble into bleachers.
One Platform was nearing completion, it's projectors
already glowing as they ran through the montage of tests Kaiba himself
had decreed as standard. At the moment they were displaying a shifting
array of fields while a colossal, three-dimensional progress bar turned
slowly as it checked its internal operating systems and file directories.
It rose up to seventy-five percent and then dropped back to thirty before
rejumping again to fifty-five before dropping once more. It was a classic
sign of a corrupted file or damaged hardware where the platforms' systems
were concerned.
An obscene roar rang out from the floor surrounding
the platform, guaranteeing that whoever handled the fragile chipsets and
drives without gloves was going to be in a whole world of trouble. Kaiba
winced; he preferred that such words be kept to a minimum in a venue like
this. All it took was the right person to hear it and he'd be on the receiving
end of all kinds of flack. However, he had to give the new Technical Department
Head credit: he got the work done and usually right the first time. Besides,
how many events was he let out of his cubicle or the workshop for? Kaiba
shuddered as he remembered the event itinerary for this year and decided
that that particular thought should be banned.
Seto took a deep breath and bellowed as loudly as
he could over the racket the machines made, "Tanaka! Watch the mouth!"
The hall was noticeably quieter for a moment and
the phrase "Uh-oh! Busted!" hung unspoken yet deafening in the air. Kaiba
stepped backwards to permit a Hi-Low laden with one of the hydraulic lifts
that carried duelists up to the elevated Duel Interface past. Finally a
muted, slightly sheepish roar answered: "Sorry, Kaiba-san!"
He assumed Hikokurou Tanaka was now inside the Platform
and behind one of the many access panels attempting to figure out what
had been damaged during the long transport. Kaiba turned in a brief circle,
momentarily not sure which way to go. There were more people here than
what they truly needed and Tanaka ran this assembly like a well-oiled machine.
Seto was impressed, though admittedly now lost. In times past, he would
have been in the thick of this, but now he wasn't sure where he would be
needed. He would need to speak with Tanaka after all this was over and
find out if he truly needed this many people.
He approached the nearest platform as KaibaCorp
employees swarmed around, inside, and upon it like ants. Shielding his
eyes from the glare of the bright lights high above, he watched as one
of his company's cranes set the first of the hydraulic lifts into place.
With an audible retort, the locking mechanisms snapped into place and left
only the hydraulics to be hooked back up into the main array.
"Excuse me, Sir? Could you please back up?" One
of his many techs asked politely as another crane approached with the panels
that would cover the hydraulics.
Kaiba complied, feeling at a loss as the panels
were bolted into place and the bolts capped with plastic pieces colored
the same as the unit's paint-job. Back at the first Platform, the progress
bar finally reached one-hundred percent and then the card test began. In
rapid fire succession, each and every monster the platform could support
appeared on the field, ran through it's full gamete of motion, ran through
each and every animation it did, and then vanished to permit the next to
appear. They performed two at a time, looking like a duel locked in fast-forward.
Then it went to spell and trap effects; swirls and explosions, beams and
bolts, spell effect monsters and structures appeared and disappeared, sparkles
in every size, shape, and color exploded like a pyrotechnics display gone
wild. Above it all, the progress bar rotated serenely as the count slowly
increased.
'Blast it, I wanted to do that!' He thought
in dismay as the count again reached one-hundred percent and jumped to
the next test involving the hydraulic systems.
He wandered the hall aimlessly, feeling oddly depressed
at finding everything under control. His Exhibition Match wasn't until
Nine this evening and he wasn't going to find out who he was dueling until
at least Four this afternoon. They'd give the "lucky" duelist a pass to
get in here at that time so they could have a meeting of the minds. There
were hours to kill until then, however. Seto finally settled onto one of
the completed stands and fished his notebook computer out of his briefcase.
Last night he had decided to write a new display program, but hadn't gotten
to it when exhaustion and jet-lag had finally caught up with him after
dinner.
Balancing the machine on his legs, he plugged in
the receiver for his laser mouse and his miniature printer. Ready, he set
it carefully on the bench and got started. First came the carefully written
comments and explanation at the beginning; meticulously noting who wrote
it, when, why, the programs' purpose, important notes he that he would
leave blank until he finished. He surrounded it all with the comment tags
and began with the program itself.
It was one of the few things he could loose himself
in, the only others being Duel Monsters, inventing and tinkering
with things, martial arts, reading, and having fun with his little brother.
While he knew this enjoyment would turn into a love-hate-&-obsession
kind of thing when he went to error check and compile it, but he desperately
loved the process and the result. There was some sort of satisfaction in
the process of starting from a blank notepad on his computer and creating
something that not only worked but did so well. Today it was just a simple
program to rotate through display holograms of popular Duel Monsters.
There were five of these holographic displays that would frame the main
entrance to the West Exhibition Hall where they were setting up their latest
model of Dueling Platform and where the final duels of this Tournament
would be held along with his Exhibition match. The original program had
been hideously large and Kaiba didn't want to leave anything powerful enough
to operate it in the core of a relatively flimsy Plexiglas display case.
His would run on a different language than the original, but could be run
on a system that wasn't even guaranteed to be Y2K compliant.
Kaiba hadn't realized how much time had passed until
Mokuba poked him in the elbow and held up his lunch. With much difficulty,
he pushed it aside as Mizuko and Mokuba sat down with him. He found his
responses mostly consisting of nods, grunts, and various sounds of agreement,
disagreement, and other vague reactions.
Seto wolfed his way through what he presumed was
a baked Lemon-Pepper fish of some sort and a parmesan pasta dish; before
dragging his notebook computer back in front of his face. As such, he almost
missed Mokuba's comment to Mizuko, "I love it when he gets like this! You
can ask for anything and he'll agree to make you go away. I've got raises
in my allowance and toys and stuff that way! Try it!"
"Mokuba, I heard that . . ." Kaiba grunted distractedly.
He heard Mizuko snicker behind her hand and even heard a few chuckles from
nearby KaibaCorp employees.
"Hey, Boss? Can I have a raise?" Tanaka sniggered
as he passed, smelling strongly of cigarettes and burnt insulation.
"Nice try." Kaiba stated, impatient to be left alone
so he could get back to his program.
Mizuko seemed to sense this and proclaimed, "Well,
Mokuba, we'd better tell your brother good-bye so he can get back to work."
Kaiba yelped as he was tackle hugged and issued
one of Mokuba's wet, sloppy kisses they'd affectionately nicknamed "The
Plunger Kiss." He hugged his little brother back and gave him an considerably
less sloppy kiss on the cheek. "I ..ah.. miss you too, Mokuba." Kaiba paused
to wipe the spittle from his cheek, noting the amusement the darker haired
brother was getting from the action, "Snot."
Mokuba giggled loudly, "Awww! You don't miss me,
Seto?!"
Seto lurched to his feet, snatched Mokuba up, and
dangled him upside-down before the younger Kaiba could move. To his satisfaction,
Mokuba's shirt fell down to reveal his stomach. "Mizuko: Attack with Tickle
Torture! Show no mercy!" Mokuba's response to this was to shriek, squeal,
giggle, and squirm as only a child can do. It wasn't as if Mizuko could
carry out that command anyway, she was laughing too hard. Kaiba turned
Mokuba rightside-up, bear-hugged him, and said his good-byes.
He managed to wait until they were out of sight
and then dropped back down to get back to work on his program.
Hours came and went, he was forced to move several
times due to either the proximity of heavy machinery or the need to move
the bleachers he'd claimed as his work area. Kaiba finally found a safe
place at a table on the newly erected stage in the center of the Hall where
he remained for the rest of the time. Eventually he switched from writing
the program and its file library to error checking. It was a slow and frustrating
process, akin to searching for a needle in whole barn full of hay. All
it took was a single, incorrect character in a several-thousand or more
character program to render the whole thing inoperable; or a single flaw
in otherwise correct logic to send it into a program loop.
His back ached fiercely and his temper had grown
short; the process of error checking had turned into an exercise comparable
with trying to get past an ever-multiplying shield of Kuriboh. Each time
he found and corrected an error another five rose to take its place. It
occurred to him at one point that the collar of his shirt had become uncomfortable,
but the act of breaking his focus to unbutton the constricting emerald
material was equally offensive.
Around four in the afternoon, he was finally starting
to see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel when he became aware
of someone standing on the other side of the table watching him. Abruptly
two hands slammed down on either side of his notebook computer, making
the entire table jump. Kaiba glared up at Hikokurou Tanaka's leathery face,
his brown eyes staring into his own blue eyes. A myriad of stenches hit
him like a fist to the face - the scent of cigarettes stronger over the
scents of coolants, burnt insulation, grease, and many more he couldn't
put a name to.
"Go away." Kaiba growled warningly.
"Go take a break." Tanaka growled in the exact tone
of voice, "Your ass has got to have grown roots by now. Go repot yourself
somewhere else for a bit."
"I'm almost done." He retorted.
"Yes, I know you are." The man's large, battered
fingers rested on the power switch.
"Do it. You'll regret it." The blue eyed young man
snarled angrily.
Tanaka shrugged, "And what would you do without
me? Restructuring isn't complete yet."
Seto surged to his feet, knocking over the folding
chair with a resounding crash. "Are you suggesting - ??"
The man sighed, as though realizing what his reply
must have sounded like, "My apologies, Son. Wrong choice of words."
"Don't call me 'Son!' Don't you dare
call me that." He felt his hands balling into fists at his sides and couldn't
open them.
"Sheee-it, I'm just picking all kinds of bad words
. . ." Tanaka muttered and crossed his arms over his stained coverall,
his name and position embroidered in neat off-white letters beneath the
full color KaibaCorp logo. He was a big man, commandingly tall and with
a girth widening with age, but now he just seemed sheepish and small. "My
apologies again, Kaiba-san. . . but you've been at this nonstop for hours.
You'll burn yourself out in nothing flat. Please . . . take a break."
Seto trembled silently for long minutes, in the
clutches of his mute fury. He hated that look the older man was giving
him; the same reason he'd hired him was the same reason he reviled him
so thoroughly at this moment.
"Go watch a Duel, go shopping, go find someone to
Duel you, go find your partner for the Rave tonight: Do something!" Tanaka
thundered.
"It's an Exhibition, not a Rave . . ." Seto
grumbled.
The darker-haired man grinned triumphantly, "So
you say, but I've always been told: Looks like duck, walks like a duck,
quacks like duck. Therefore -"
"It. Is. Not. A. Rave." He restated, brusquely interrupting
his employee.
"Okay okay, it's not a Rave." Tanaka consented with
a grin.
Seto sighed and saved his progress, "I'll be back
in five -"
"Fifteen"
"Ten."
"Thirty." Tanaka growled in that infuriatingly paternal
voice, "I got boys your age: You're not winning, Boss."
Kaiba swallowed a scream of frustration and started
his computer's shutdown sequence. "Thirty minutes. I'm going down to Kentia
Hall; there's an Industry Only sale there and I gave my word to an acquaintance
to at least look."
Tanaka nodded and hopped down from the stage. He
stopped and grinned up at Seto, "Oh, I hope you like the sign we made for
you." And with that the man vanished behind one of the nearby bleachers,
his voice booming a question aimed at one of the other platforms.
Curious, perturbed, and thoroughly frightened Seto
put his notebook computer and peripherals back into his briefcase and jumped
down himself. Taped to the edge of the stage with Duct Tape was a makeshift,
cardboard "Do Not Disturb" sign. But to call it that would have been an
understatement. Someone had taken the time to cut out a Blue-Eyes, White
Dragon picture but had cut off the dragon's head. In it's place, they'd
pasted an image of Kaiba's head - he guessed from the latest Dueling magazine
- and had cut out and replaced the bottom lip and jaw to make room for
another image. Issuing from the picture's mouth was the missing jet of
white lightning that should have been coming from the Dragon's maw. Along
the right side of the sign someone had spelled out with letters cut from
different magazines and newspapers,
"WARNING: Disturbeth the Dragon @ Thine Own Risk!"
After all that, the edges of the cardboard had been
painstakingly burnt away to form it into a rectangle with curved edges.
The whole sign was disturbingly intriguing - he wasn't sure whether to
laugh or just be very very frightened.
Seto shook his head, muttered about some of his
employees having way too much time on their hands, and ripped the
sign free from the Duct Tape. He regarded it for a another minute before
he carefully folded and stuffed it into his briefcase.
He dropped off his briefcase with his personal body
guards now sitting in chairs near his umbrella and trench coat and began
walking to one of the smaller doors. He wasn't going out the main doors
where other duelists were likely lying in wait. The last thing he wanted
was a dozen autograph hounds demanding his signature or amateur duelists
asking to see his cards or trade one or beg to be given one. Instead, he
would exit the hall from one of the smaller, more discreet doors. They'd
be locked in another Forty-five, so he might as well make use of them.
He was almost there when he heard some voices he recognized but couldn't
place.
Seto traced his way between the stands and platforms
towards the voices. What he saw made him freeze.
Bandit Keith and several groupies were lurking around
one of the Platforms, one of the access panels was off, and from the sounds
there was at least one person inside. Kaiba bristled furiously, 'How
in the hell did they get in here?!'
He took a deep breath to calm and steel himself,
playing a brief set of mindgames with himself to prepare for what might
happen. He counted heads quickly, noting that Keith had gotten himself
at least two more groupies and that one was missing. He believed it was
the one with the neon hair fetish; if he was still around, he would probably
be dueling over in the West Exhibition Hall.
At that moment, Keith spotted him. His swagger and
tone of voice was as cocky as ever, "Hey, look guys! Seto Kaiba! Hey Kaiba,
how's it going?"
There was absolutely nothing friendly about the
question, if anything, it was pure malice.
"Fine. What do you think you're doing with my Platform?"
Keith put on a good show of being offended, "Doing?
We weren't doing anything - were we, boys?"
The groupies snickered and denied they were doing
anything - even as two of their number stuck their heads outside the access
door. One with a face made up to look like a corpse and sporting spiky
bluish hair and the other was a new one about Yugi's height, but none of
his sophistication. He distinctly and unpleasantly reminded Kaiba of that
. . . thing Yugi beaten in an attempt to save Mokuba. He was skinny instead
of obese, but rather it was his face and the look upon it that reminded
him of it. Kaiba shook himself mentally and returned his attention to the
present.
"We were just providing your biz a service." A black
haired groupie oozed in feigned innocence.
Kaiba chuckled once, the action little more than
the syllable "heh" and a rise and fall of his shoulders. "I doubt that."
Keith chuckled, "Oh - C'mon, Kaiba. I'm only doing
the same thing you do -"
"And that is?" Seto interrupted, cocking an eyebrow.
"Doing whatever it takes to win! C'mon, you'd do
the same thing." Keith and his cronies chuckled, as though they thought
this funny.
"Well, I got a tip for you then." Kaiba said, smiling.
They should have made duplicates of that sign; he was in no mood to be
screwed around with today. He motioned Keith closer with a full fingered
wave as though he had something he would share with the blond American
and only him.
Keith grinned and moved in close, "Yeah, what?"
Kaiba gripped the man's arm at his elbow and pulled
his ear closer. He found the nerve complex in the inside Keith's elbow
and prepared himself as he whispered, "I can play dirty too."
The color drained from the American's face and there
was a quiet gasp. His cronies hadn't caught on yet, they were just staring.
Maliciously, Kaiba twisted his thumb, digging his nail harder and deeper
into the nerve complex.
And then Keith screamed.
Kaiba grinned and let him go, skipping lightly back
to land into a casual, defensive stance.
Keith swore and gasped, shaking a hand that was
probably numb. He swore again, and then yelled hoarsely, "Get him!"
'How predictable.' Kaiba thought, dancing
lightly out of the way of the first punch. He caught the offending arm
as he streaked by his head, twisted himself round, and flipped his attacker
over his hip. He skipped out of the way of the next attack - he caught
of glimpse of black hair - and then in closed in during the next attempted
punch to strike the man's solar-plexus. Keith staggered up next and tried
his luck, but his target dropped out of reach a moment before the floor
rose up to kiss the blond.
Kaiba scrambled back to his feet and bounced lightly
on his feet. Black hair was back on his feet and coming. Seto dropped his
left hand to prepare for his best kick and then yelped as pain shot up
his arm. He changed targets and kicked blindly, but it was his knee that
connected. A kid with spiky blue hair went sprawling, curling into a fetal
position and his hands clutching his gut.
However, he'd forgotten about his first attacker.
A fist whipped his head around, spreading a quick,
harsh pain across cheek. On recovery, Kaiba broke his nose with a quick
motion with his right hand. He spun in an attempt to run. A shoulder connected
with his jaw, standing him up straight and clicking his teeth together.
Seto dropped into a roll, coming up barely in time
to miss the first line of bleachers.
Keith closed in once more. Seto spun into a kick
and followed the motion through with an vicious backhand. As Keith hit
the floor once more, Seto put a well-placed kick into the blond's gut.
Arms wrapped around Seto's stomach and pulled him
back as his personal body guards closed in quickly. The stench of cigarettes
and other materials filled his nostrils. Kaiba strained against the stronger
arms holding him back, screaming out curses to Keith's groupies.
The older man's arms switched to his arms, gentle
but with a firmness that said he wasn't going anywhere. He watched, livid,
as they were rounded up and hauled away. He trembled and swore, his eyes
glued on Keith.
"Easy . . ." Tanaka murmured.
Kaiba swore at him, straining once more.
"Easy . . . they're not worth it. Are they?"
He took a deep, shuddering breath. He felt Tanaka's
arms release him and move to rub his back. Seto shrugged them away peevishly.
"Are they?" The man's firm voice asked again.
Kaiba swore again and took another shuddering breath.
Tanaka backed him up and helped him over to a welcoming seat on one of
the bleachers.
"No." He rasped as he wiped away a trickle of blood
from his mouth. Belatedly realizing he would need to wipe his hands off,
he glanced around him. He black slacks were filthy and dusty now, even
torn at a knee. Through the tear, he could see a thin line of red appearing.
Kaiba wiped his hand on his slacks and leaned back against the next level
of seats.
"You got bit." Tanaka observed darkly.
Kaiba glanced down at his hand, watching as blood
welled up from teeth marks that marred the flesh on the thumb side of his
hand. "Yeah, some little shit named . . ." He searched his mind momentarily;
even Joey could beat that one. 'What was his name?' ". . . Bones,
I think? . . . bit me."
Tanaka shook his head in disgust, and then commented,
"There goes your nose too."
Seto swore and dabbed his fingers at his nose, feeling
warm liquid running from his nostrils and noting that his fingers came
away red. Tanaka dug in his pocket and produced a filthy paper towel. He
unfolded it until he found a clean spot and offered it to him. Kaiba accepted
it with a grateful nod and pinched his nose.
"Lets see your teeth." Tanaka stated patiently,
resting one large hand on his boss's thin shoulder. Kaiba grimaced and
bared his teeth at his employee, as the adrenaline wore off he was finally
feeling pain from his injuries. "Looks okay. Our nurses are over by the
West Hall. You better go see them, you don't have a clue where they've
been."
Kaiba grinned at him, "Yeah, well - I have a good
imagination."
Tanaka tossed his head back and laughed momentarily
before swatting his shoulder, "Get going, you."
Kaiba stuck to the sides of the hallways, skirting
the crowds and edging between vendor stands set up against the walls. He
got a few odd looks as he moved, but he kept himself to a pace that wouldn't
permit anyone to really get a good look at him. Seto did get a nice nugget
of satisfaction as spotted Bandit Keith's name being marked as disqualified
up on the rankings and score board. A little further, he overheard a juicy
bit of gossip that Keith and his cronies were being shown off the Convention
Center grounds. However, by that point he'd found his corporation's nurses
at the KaibaCorp booth helping to hand out information about their Dueling
Systems and the company itself. Quick and efficient as most of the other
departments, they got him cleaned up and bandaged in what seemed to be
record time.
He was on his way back to the South Hall when he
heard a short scream of frustration. As he passed the doors he spotted
Autumn Tennant crawling about on all-fours, desperately trying to gather
her cards before the trampling feet of those leaving the Hall carried them
out of her reach. Tears of fury ran unchecked down her face and red-rimmed
eyes darted about frantically as she dove, lunged, and crawled. From here
he could hear her sobs and gasps as she scurried around on the cement,
urgently searching for more cards.
Kaiba casually swept up a box of tissues as he passed
a booth and tucked them under and arm. Halfway there she had apparently
concluded she had retrieved all she was going to, rose to her feet, and
took a few steps to sit against the rubber-coated cloth that sheathed the
bleachers.
"Is it time for your medication - or mine?" He asked
as he dropped the box at her feet.
She shrugged in answer and leaned forward to snatch
a tissue from the box. As she was mopping her face off, he batted the cloth
out of the way and glanced under the bleachers. Not seeing any cards, he
strode over to the other side and repeated the action. His search was rewarded
with a Big Eye, Dream Clown, Neo the Magic Swordsman,
Bickuribox, and a Tainted Wisdom.
"These yours?" He asked as he emerged, holding the
cards out so she could clearly see each of them. He found himself scowling,
not at her but at the situation and the day as a whole.
She glanced up briefly and nodded. "I have those
cards in my deck."
Her voice was so quiet, so pathetic, he almost didn't
hear her. He sighed and dropped down to sit beside her. He handed her the
cards, "Well, if they aren't from your deck - they're yours now."
"Thank you." The cards were simply laid on the top
of the deck. She wasn't counting them to see that she had them all, nothing.
He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the canvas; silence reigning
for long moments as he waited for the medication he'd taken to start dulling
the pain. When he reopened his eyes, she hadn't moved other than to pull
another tissue from the box.
His decision was made before he'd even realized
he'd thought about it; he snatched the cards from her hand and began separating
out the Fusion Cards. When he could find no more, he began counting the
cards into tens; but when he reached sixty-seven cards total he frowned.
"Side deck - yes, no?"
Autumn was silent and he was sure he'd probably
missed a nod or a shrug. Scowling, he recounted and once again found sixty-seven
cards. He was going to ignore the niggling thoughts in the back of his
head concerning its construction for the moment.
"Do you have a Side Deck?" He demanded.
"I said 'yes' - okay!?"
Kaiba rolled his eyes, cupped his mouth with his
hands, and mumbled, "Youmeanlikethis?" His answer was a glare from a pair
of blood-shot, hazel eyes; he continued, "I'm sorry - that isn't an answer."
"Then just leave me alone. I don't need your help
if you're going to be so - so - nasty!"
"Whatever. I was trying to do something nice." He
tossed the cards into her lap and rose unsteadily to his feet.
She glowered up at him, looking as miserable as
he felt. "I thought you didn't help amateurs. What am I going to have to
do for this honor?"
Her sarcasm was as stinging as his own commonly
was in that last statement and he wasn't sure how to respond. Kaiba sighed
in frustration and ran his right hand through his hair. He sighed again,
this time heavily and sat down beside her once more. "What time is it?"
"Almost five. So are you going to answer me?"
"Duel me. Tonight in the Exhibition. The person
I was supposed to duel has been shown the door." His anger was slowly fading,
returning him to that apathetic mood he'd been in when he arrived this
morning. Slowly the pieces were falling into place and he found himself
muttering to himself, "I forgot they would give them a pass . . . Keith
used it to get him and his friends inside. . ."
He heard her sigh, as heavy and deep as he had sighed,
"I'm sorry, it sounds - looks - like you've had a sucky day. What did they
do?"
"Heh. You're telling me; I'm talking to myself."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "They vandalized one of
my company's Dueling Platforms . . . I assume they were trying to cheat.
Again. Still. Yet."
"Well, that explains alot." She sighed once more
and pulled her legs in close, "He cheated. Damn him."
"I thought so. I'll wager he had neon hair while
I'm at it too." Kaiba stated, his attention briefly drawn to the unusual
bracelet on her wrist. Brown and cream strands wove in and out of each
other in waves, rounding her wrist before they met a copper clasp. He blinked
and met her eyes; pleased to see she had on a slight smile, "So. Are you
going to Duel me or not?"