blazing star.
A Yu Gi Oh fan fic by Heavens to Bikini Kill
Two
-----------------
Kenji threw the twenty-five page report in Kaiba's inbox at eight thirty the next morning. He got to work at eight exactly, not eight oh two, not eight fifty seven. His hair was a mess, his eyes clouded and heavy, his tie not put on right, his shirt wrinkled. He had been up all night working on the report, going through impossible numbers and graphs. Upon closer examination, Kenji realized that all of the information that was in the folders could have been condensed to about ten pages. Without losing a shred of information. Kaiba must have done that on purpose.
He felt his head dropping onto his keyboard, and he didn't care. He was too tired, only getting an hour of sleep. "Just five more minutes..." he muttered to himself. Damn that Kaiba for working him like a dog.
Hm. "Damn that Kaiba." Seemed to be a rather popular phrase in Domino, and Kenji was picking up on it. He shifted his face so he could comfortably sleep on his computer.
"Wake up, Uyeda." Kenji's head shot up and he grumbled audibly as he faced his boss. He forced a sleepy smile.
"Yes, Mr. Kaiba?"
Kaiba's cold, blue eyes attempted to pierce through Kenji, but to no avail. Kenji had met meaner, colder people before. "Why are you sleeping on the job?"
No excuse in the world would work. "Gomen nasai, Mr. Kaiba."
"Sorry will not make the cut here at Kaiba Corp, Uyeda." He lifted Kenji's chin, forcing them to see eye to eye. "You are very fortunate to have a job here. Let's make sure it lasts."
They stayed there, looking at each other, Kaiba's hand still on Kenji's face. Kaiba broke the tension by looking away. "Your e-mail account is already set up. Your work for today is in the inbox. Good day." He left.
Kenji forced himself to sit up straight, and positioned himself directly in front of his new iMac. "Damn that Kaiba."
----
Seto Kaiba couldn't remember the last time he had ever dreamed. Of course he wasn't some sort of machine, of course he had dreams, but he never remembered what happened in them. Dreaming was supposedly irrelevant. But the day that Naoki Uyeda arrived at Kaiba Corp, he had a dream. It was vivid, and it burned a spot into his mind.
He dreamt of Uyeda. And cigarettes and music and a rather bright green light. He saw the sunrise and the sunset in a minute's time. And at the end Uyeda walked to him with a gun in his hand and a cancer stick in his mouth, saying something about a week. A week. Hm. He had checked his planner five times. Nothing was happening in a week.
He walked past the cubicles and saw Uyeda sleeping the next morning. Nothing angered him more than people who used their employment time to sleep. But as he walked in to wake the man up, something caught his heart. Uyeda's face wasn't angelic or innocent or the like, but something seemed inherently good about his expression. Like he was some sort of star that the world was trying to destroy.
So he woke him up and yelled at him for three minutes and walked off, all the time thinking about how peculiar Uyeda was. He came to the conclusion that he hated him. No one, other than Mokuba, was allowed to take his mid off of his work.
He sat in his office, staring at the report that Uyeda turned in on time. Normally, he would just toss it in the wastebin; as if any of his employees had anything worthwhile to say about Kaiba Corp. But something captured him, and it had nothing to do with the extended estimates for the company's next five years.
Uyeda, no matter how much Kaiba was supposed to hate him, was...beautiful?
Kaiba quickly shook that thought out of his head. He was the great and mighty Seto Kaiba, not some hungry, love-sick fool. He had much better things to do than try to go after some employee who didn't deserve half of his paycheck. Uyeda was just an assistant...assistant...damn. Kaiba had forgotten the man's position already.
He threw the paper in the wastebin as he left his office. A walk outside would create quick solvency for this pathetic virus in his mind.
----
Kenji lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Nothing was more stressful than working for Kaiba, and he had only been there for a day. His mother told him that he should stop. He never listened.
He leaned carelessly against the mortar wall that was Kaiba Corp, smoking his life away, and not caring. He closed his eyes as he blew even more smoke in thought.
"I didn't know you smoked, Uyeda."
Kenji's eyes snapped open to see his temporary boss leaning against the wall right next to him. 'Damn you,' he thought, 'I don't want to talk to you. I want to kill you and get over it.' Instead, he said, "I didn't know you cared."
"One would think," Kaiba started, "that you would have a little more respect for the man that pays you."
"One would think that I actually gave a shit." Kenji turned to face Kaiba. "But guess what? I don't."
Kaiba smirked. "You always act like this when you're smoking?"
"Once again I ask you, why do you care?" Kenji smirked also, and puffed again.
"Because," Kaiba leaned in a little too closely, "we just might be seeing more of each other."
Kenji scooted further down the wall, and away from his target. "Recognize, Mr. Kaiba," he started. "Just because you pay me doesn't mean I like you."
-----
Oh shut up.
No, really, shut up.
And while you're at it, go fuck yourself.
Maybe a car will smack you on the way back to your big house, Mr. Kaiba, and I won't have to touch you.
'Cause Mr. Takashi wants me to torture you. He wants me to record your screams and your pleads for mercy. He's a pretty sick man.
A sick man with enough money to get you killed.
I don't want to kill you. I never wanted to kill anybody.
But, like all other humans, I still do it. I don't even have to kill. I just do it. Even though I claim to hate it.
I don't care how much money you make, I don't care how big you think your cock is, I don't care how many houses you own in America, but you just really need to check yourself.
It's kind of late, Mr. Kaiba. You've already started the chain reaction. You wrecked yourself.
And now you're coming over to my cubicle, giving me more work and demanding that I drop it off at your house by midnight. Bitch, you aren't going to be awake at midnight. Nobody who has an ounce of sense should be awake at midnight, or at least running off to some multimillionaire's mansion to amuse him with reports on what he already knows.
Damn you, Kaiba. I'm going to pack some heat tonight. My Desert Eagle should do it. One in the heart will make it quick. I'll tell Takashi that you struggled so much that I had to kill you right off.
It's such a pity.
We've all gotta die, Kaiba, what's wrong with tonight?
A Yu Gi Oh fan fic by Heavens to Bikini Kill
Two
-----------------
Kenji threw the twenty-five page report in Kaiba's inbox at eight thirty the next morning. He got to work at eight exactly, not eight oh two, not eight fifty seven. His hair was a mess, his eyes clouded and heavy, his tie not put on right, his shirt wrinkled. He had been up all night working on the report, going through impossible numbers and graphs. Upon closer examination, Kenji realized that all of the information that was in the folders could have been condensed to about ten pages. Without losing a shred of information. Kaiba must have done that on purpose.
He felt his head dropping onto his keyboard, and he didn't care. He was too tired, only getting an hour of sleep. "Just five more minutes..." he muttered to himself. Damn that Kaiba for working him like a dog.
Hm. "Damn that Kaiba." Seemed to be a rather popular phrase in Domino, and Kenji was picking up on it. He shifted his face so he could comfortably sleep on his computer.
"Wake up, Uyeda." Kenji's head shot up and he grumbled audibly as he faced his boss. He forced a sleepy smile.
"Yes, Mr. Kaiba?"
Kaiba's cold, blue eyes attempted to pierce through Kenji, but to no avail. Kenji had met meaner, colder people before. "Why are you sleeping on the job?"
No excuse in the world would work. "Gomen nasai, Mr. Kaiba."
"Sorry will not make the cut here at Kaiba Corp, Uyeda." He lifted Kenji's chin, forcing them to see eye to eye. "You are very fortunate to have a job here. Let's make sure it lasts."
They stayed there, looking at each other, Kaiba's hand still on Kenji's face. Kaiba broke the tension by looking away. "Your e-mail account is already set up. Your work for today is in the inbox. Good day." He left.
Kenji forced himself to sit up straight, and positioned himself directly in front of his new iMac. "Damn that Kaiba."
----
Seto Kaiba couldn't remember the last time he had ever dreamed. Of course he wasn't some sort of machine, of course he had dreams, but he never remembered what happened in them. Dreaming was supposedly irrelevant. But the day that Naoki Uyeda arrived at Kaiba Corp, he had a dream. It was vivid, and it burned a spot into his mind.
He dreamt of Uyeda. And cigarettes and music and a rather bright green light. He saw the sunrise and the sunset in a minute's time. And at the end Uyeda walked to him with a gun in his hand and a cancer stick in his mouth, saying something about a week. A week. Hm. He had checked his planner five times. Nothing was happening in a week.
He walked past the cubicles and saw Uyeda sleeping the next morning. Nothing angered him more than people who used their employment time to sleep. But as he walked in to wake the man up, something caught his heart. Uyeda's face wasn't angelic or innocent or the like, but something seemed inherently good about his expression. Like he was some sort of star that the world was trying to destroy.
So he woke him up and yelled at him for three minutes and walked off, all the time thinking about how peculiar Uyeda was. He came to the conclusion that he hated him. No one, other than Mokuba, was allowed to take his mid off of his work.
He sat in his office, staring at the report that Uyeda turned in on time. Normally, he would just toss it in the wastebin; as if any of his employees had anything worthwhile to say about Kaiba Corp. But something captured him, and it had nothing to do with the extended estimates for the company's next five years.
Uyeda, no matter how much Kaiba was supposed to hate him, was...beautiful?
Kaiba quickly shook that thought out of his head. He was the great and mighty Seto Kaiba, not some hungry, love-sick fool. He had much better things to do than try to go after some employee who didn't deserve half of his paycheck. Uyeda was just an assistant...assistant...damn. Kaiba had forgotten the man's position already.
He threw the paper in the wastebin as he left his office. A walk outside would create quick solvency for this pathetic virus in his mind.
----
Kenji lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Nothing was more stressful than working for Kaiba, and he had only been there for a day. His mother told him that he should stop. He never listened.
He leaned carelessly against the mortar wall that was Kaiba Corp, smoking his life away, and not caring. He closed his eyes as he blew even more smoke in thought.
"I didn't know you smoked, Uyeda."
Kenji's eyes snapped open to see his temporary boss leaning against the wall right next to him. 'Damn you,' he thought, 'I don't want to talk to you. I want to kill you and get over it.' Instead, he said, "I didn't know you cared."
"One would think," Kaiba started, "that you would have a little more respect for the man that pays you."
"One would think that I actually gave a shit." Kenji turned to face Kaiba. "But guess what? I don't."
Kaiba smirked. "You always act like this when you're smoking?"
"Once again I ask you, why do you care?" Kenji smirked also, and puffed again.
"Because," Kaiba leaned in a little too closely, "we just might be seeing more of each other."
Kenji scooted further down the wall, and away from his target. "Recognize, Mr. Kaiba," he started. "Just because you pay me doesn't mean I like you."
-----
Oh shut up.
No, really, shut up.
And while you're at it, go fuck yourself.
Maybe a car will smack you on the way back to your big house, Mr. Kaiba, and I won't have to touch you.
'Cause Mr. Takashi wants me to torture you. He wants me to record your screams and your pleads for mercy. He's a pretty sick man.
A sick man with enough money to get you killed.
I don't want to kill you. I never wanted to kill anybody.
But, like all other humans, I still do it. I don't even have to kill. I just do it. Even though I claim to hate it.
I don't care how much money you make, I don't care how big you think your cock is, I don't care how many houses you own in America, but you just really need to check yourself.
It's kind of late, Mr. Kaiba. You've already started the chain reaction. You wrecked yourself.
And now you're coming over to my cubicle, giving me more work and demanding that I drop it off at your house by midnight. Bitch, you aren't going to be awake at midnight. Nobody who has an ounce of sense should be awake at midnight, or at least running off to some multimillionaire's mansion to amuse him with reports on what he already knows.
Damn you, Kaiba. I'm going to pack some heat tonight. My Desert Eagle should do it. One in the heart will make it quick. I'll tell Takashi that you struggled so much that I had to kill you right off.
It's such a pity.
We've all gotta die, Kaiba, what's wrong with tonight?