Wow, sorry it took my so long to update! You know, it's the end of the year and I'm all going crazy for finals and Regents Exams. Wow, so nervous. Also, my parents have put parental controls on me…yes I managed to escape with but a few scars. So it's been a long time since I could get it up to write again…(sighs)…and sadly I will be using no more "bad" words like Fuck. (yes I hate my life, too)
In short, this is basically about Seto and Joey getting to know each other and kind of moving past childish hate…it's a tad shorter than all my other chapters, but I felt this was very greatly needed. So enjoy!
I thank everyone who reviewed and even those that read and didn't review. You guys rock my socks, (I loathe that expression but I seriously think it applies here considering how I've recently begun to loose socks as the number of reviews increases)!
I had to change something in this chapter because I made a mistake I some of the Japanese language…ehe? (blushes)
A/N: The "yakuza" is the Japanese mafia. Oh and about Seto's past, I basically made it up as I went along; there is absolutely no evidence to support this. I don't mean to offend anyone, like a purist who believes in sticking to the facts totally, but this is my story so I offer you my apologies but I won't change it.
Response to Said Reviewers, (oh and I was just kidding about the sock thing, lol!):
Nightmare Senshi: Hi, and welcome to the story! I love getting a new reviewer from each chapter, it's so much fun! Not boring? YAY! I hope so…it's really hard to get all my ideas down and then—(gasp)—make them sound interesting! Good development in a story is one of the hardest things to write about, but still one of the best prizes if one can achieve it, (whoa I totally sounded mystical there…cool!). Sensual yet morbid. Oh yes. I was totally aiming for that, I am so happy right now! And now the Meeting! Enjoy, Dear Reader&Reviewer! Thanks for your opinion and please keep reviewing, I love your comments!
Nachzes Black-Rider: Hey, again. Addicted to yaoi fanfiction? Oh yeah, me too! Like, who isn't these days? Angst is your God…All hail to Black-Rider's God! I love this genre as well, but I find that it's easily overdone when writing it…please tell me I didn't…I can NOT get kicked off for the bloody scene? OMG, yes! Thank the Gods, (of Angst)! I so wish there was an NC-17 category…(sighs). I read one of you fics, but it isn't there anymore…what happened to it? I LOVED that story! Please bring it back if you deleted it, it was awesome! Can't wait to get your review, thanks again!
"kaibajoey1": Thank you for reviewing! Your review was wonderful, very nice to read, I loved it, thank you! Seto-chan and Joey-chan. Those are good names…I must use them sometime! (when? Nobody knows.) Yes, I try to reread. But the problem is, sometimes I start to get all crazy rereading TOO much and I begin to nit-pick at my stories. Like, "Oh this isn't good," and then I delete it and it turns out later that I needed that part. So I try not to over-read what I write. It gets odd. But I know I make typos. But hey they're a fact of life, what can I say? Lol. I am so totally not mad at you! (sniffles) You think I'm one of your favorite authors…(sniffles)…thank you so much! (bursts out crying) You are so nice, thank you for reading! Hope to hear from you again!
Marz: Well, hey! Nice to talk to you again! I rock? Why, thank you! So do you for constantly reviewing and giving advice, it is an author's best wish, (as you know)! Exciting…anticipation…yay! Not boring? Well that's good to hear…(wipes brow)…goodie. Yes, poor Mokuba...sometimes I worry about Seto's ability as a single parent/older brother, but I tried to make him capable of shielding his brother from this fact, because it was way too seriously messed up. Think of Mokuba being scarred for life, (I would be if my brother was an assassin…gaah!)! Find out? Maybe…maybe not, (smiles). I am so happy I can't get kicked off…it is a constant worry, you know? Jealousy? Lol! Thanks for saying I have talent! That was so nice! Thank you! Joey is so hard to keep IC, like I said, but I try to reread his parts and think, "Would Joey really say that?" I decide from there. Yes, Joey looked Seto up…well this is part-romance fic, you know? (but I am scared to write a lemon for fear of being kicked off) And you are so welcome for my reviews. I love your stories, they're awesome! You could definitely write Bakura/Ryou, and I look forward to that! YAY! Malik/Marik! Hey, if you watch the show, you know a little TOO much about their characters, you could do it! Anyway, like I said, it's always a pleasure talking. Later, and I hope we can talk again sometime! (soon!)
Fire Kitten: Hi! Lazy? Well, yeah! We're authors for God's sake, (just kidding)! Yes I loved the dream scene, too. It was meant to be kind of scary, too, though, so I hope you found that as well. What is it about yaoi that is so attractive? I don't know. But I am glad to have received your review and hope you continue to read my story! Thank you!
ttSerenity: Hello, and thanks for reviewing! SO lovely hearing from you! Yes I find that last ending lines in chapters are what readers take away with them, thus they are very important and need to be kept enjoyable! I'm happy you liked that line, I put a lot of thought into it. You adore this story? Wow, thanks! I update for readers like you, thank you so much for the inspiration! Please review this chapter!
Flame Swordswoman: Hey! Thanks for reading! Jam-packed chapter? Oh yeah! I hope so…even though it may seem a little slow. You have to enjoy what you write because if you don't like reading it, who else will? A story is like your child, you know? (well except for the fact that you can delete them if you don't want to keep writing them, of course.) The plot thickens! YAY! I know what you mean, and isn't it fun? Mokuba is being shielded from the trauma, but I suppose a part of him is still freaked. Seto can't protect him all the time, right? (like how he knows what a gun sound is.) So yes, you're right. Don't worry about the first reviewer thing. I just love to hear from you, whenever you review! Yes, I did get a lot of reviews! It's a little scary…but I hope I don't jinx it with a bad chapter! But I know that I'll have you to read them even if they get bad, which is comforting. Thanks, love to talk next time!
Yami'skoi: Hi, Tsumi! What's up? We haven't spoken in a while, (lol). Anyway, thanks for reviewing and reading, and well, liking. Silent killing? HAVE to use a blade, yes? Longness does tend to mean I go on and on and on, but I try to make it as descriptive as possible. That's important I know. Trust me, I'll keep at it. Broad horizon on my knowledge of English…yes! Thank you! Very nice thing to say. Ah yes, dishonor is harder to remove from the skin. Very good point. Mind if I use it? Thanks in advance! Joey shall remain IC, I think. Well, maybe…I'm trying so hard…he mustn't stain his hands, they are too precious. The Mafia is its own police, but they do not police themselves, eh? Get it? Hey, get your hand off my samurai swords! Lol. That just sounds weird. Seto is gay, yes, but I bring this up soon, so no worries! Ah yes, Mokuba. He was a hard character to depict. Please tell me I did alright…it was so hard to give him just the right amount of knowledge but to somehow make him smart enough not to push for more information than he wanted. No he's not thick. And that's the trouble, lol. Yes…the gun-thing with Mokuba. I think I'll explain that more later on. Poor Seto and his denial…(sighs) Love…so inexplicable sometimes. Seto, I order you to stop being a blockhead! Well that won't work. He's too stubborn, lol. Expression of feelings…he is so lost there. But maybe a lemon, not sure…don't know if I have the talent, and I don't think I do. So, yes. Hmm…I think that lust is easier than love because love comes with attachments and lust doesn't always have to. So I think love is easier, but that's just me. Seto's mental strength? Oh yeah. He has a lot of that being trained the way he is. Yay, Seto got looked up. WHAT DO I MEAN, "YAY"? Am I insane? You're right, the PWP stories have gotten a hold of me…(sigh). Lemon Intoxication Syndrome, (LIS), is quite the dangerous disorder. And we know, lol. I'm so glad you like this story, I work very hard for it, to make it good for readers, and it means a lot to me that you like because it's like, you know success and I like to make people feel good. And I love updates as well so…yeah. Yes my dad was a policeman and a firefighter…he's just brave like that I guess…hmmm….well, anyway, it was so nice to hear from you! I love our talks, and well, until next time! See ya Tsumi!
"Green Eggs and Ham": Hi, again! Liked the chapter? Thanks! Ew…paper-tasting waffles…I hope that no one else has to sympathize with Joey! Lol. But Joey will keep your advice in mind…I think. To cut or not to cut. It defines Seto, don't you think? And yes, poor Mokuba, poor Seto. I love them all but put them through so much! WOW! I love that quote, mind if I use it? I shall! THANKS! I love your ideas, they are so inspiring…I hope you don't decide to disclaimer it. Thanks again for liking my story, it just makes me so happy knowing that. Until next time!
marik'slildevil: HI! Thanks for reviewing! I loved to hear from you! Aww…I hooked you. Lol, hope that it's a good obsession! I shall try my best to achieve that for you. I find stories like that all the time, it's the best. Seto as a hit man is an interesting plot, I think. It is…yes…one of my favorite aspects of the story, to be honest. YAY! I passed the first-timer test! Woot! So nice! That is like such a relief, seriously. I write a lot, yeah sorry. But I hate short chapters. I have a tendency to enjoy longer stories and I also have a lot to say. Sorry, but take your time. Absorb it all…lol. Thanks again, and I hope you read this chapter!
Xaio-Darkcloud: Hey, friend! What's up? It was good? OH YEAH! Happy. Yes, Seto has a waterbed, I mentioned it in Chapter Four. Thanks, and please read! I love to know that you're reading these, it is so much fun!
Hazel-Beka: Hi! That was an interesting way to review, lol. But I think I got it. I'm happy if you read, and even happier when you review. I thank you for taking the time to review especially. It means a lot. My parents yell at me to get off as well. I feel your pain, lol. YAY, Seto's dream. I loved that part as well, but it was meant to be a kind of premonition as well for Joey's eyes to be bloody…but no one noticed. Oh well. Yes, the Mafia versus the Yakuza. I know. But the Mafia doesn't have to be Japanese just because Seto is. I already created the characters in a European kind of way, so I don't want to change now. Yeah, it was a good question. No one else picked up on it, so you did well! Nice. Congrats. Please read, I love your comments. Thanks, until next time!
Heather-Hazzel-and-Honaluki: HI! Thanks for reading my story! So glad you enjoyed it. …happiness… Anyway, I love your name. Very unique…I hope you read this chapter. Thanks again!
Ayako: Hey! Thanks for reading! I loved getting your review, it was very simplistic, very straight-forward. Cool. And yes I try to make it interesting. I will continue for readers like you! Thanks! Please read and review some more, lol!
Vapidbreath: Wow, thanks for reading some of my work! Such an honor, because you write so many good stories. I know my stuff is deep, I try so very hard…thanks for the comment. I appreciate it. Ok, more characters. Check. Bt the thing is, Seto and Joey are like in hiding, so it wouldn't be good if they made appearances else-where. But I'll see what I can do. Thanks for the advice, please read this! I loved hearing from you!
Kuro Enkou Nero: YAY! You reviewed. That was cool, nice to hear from you again. Wait…why have you been straying away? I didn't find it in your bio. Obvious? Well there are a lot of things, I don't know. Perhaps it is none of my business, lol. Anyway, yes NC-17 would be nice, but whatever. I do the best I can with what I have, as annoying as it may be, (sigh). Puppyshipping! So cool. I enjoy those as well, I must say. Very nice. Psychoshipping…one of my very favorites. If not the best, but I don't know if that is the main shipping. You command me to update? Oh, I shall, Master! Lol. I appreciate the inspiration. Thanks! Hope you read this next chapter!
ZombieDarkElf: Thanks for reviewing! (hugs) I am so glad to have received your opinion, it really means a lot to me, you know! Not boring? Oh that's nice to hear…lots of people are agreeing with you and that's also nice, yay! Glad you enjoyed it, it's mutual, kk? Here is the next chapter! I hope it lives up to your expectations!
marikluverkaibasgurl: Well, so glad you reviewed and enjoyed! That was cool, you explaining how spontaneous it was that you read my story, (even though it probably took you a long time to read, ehe? Sorry!) I sound a lot like you? Weird…but I still think it's some kind of cool. Some kind of it…not sure which, but what do I know? You like Stephen King? Awesome! Which is your favorite novel by him? Just asking. I shall keep writing for reviewers like you, and sorry for the wait. Here you go, please review!
Warning: PLEASE GUYS! This is homosexuality, malexmale, yaoi, all that! Very graphic violence! I must warn you all! IF YOU DO NOT APPRECIATE OR HAVE A MORAL PROBLEM, PLEASE DO NOT READ! Adult themes were mentioned in the summary for a reason.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh.
Chapter 6: Pain
I suppose this is a good time to mention the history of my katana. It plays an important role in this part of the story and I'm sure that none of you missed the description D.B. gave of it being my stepfather's. She's partly right, because he is dead, but while he still lived the blade belonged to him. Now it is mine. Fully and completely. But its history is too important to go unmentioned. I guess I owe Gozaburo more than that.
Japanese blades often have names. This blade's first name was "Oni no Musuko" or "Son of a Demon". But that would change.
When my infamous stepfather was about nine, living in Okinawa, Japan, he had the unfortunate experience of watching his mother be killed in a deserted, rural alleyway by the yakuza, (I don't really want to go into details of how, but let's just say it was not in the nicest of ways, alright?). Because his mother was, (in polite terms), a prostitute, she was the only parent he had ever known. He tried to defend what little honor she had by fighting the yakuza members, but being only nine he had no such luck of winning.
I'm told, though, that Gozaburo's fighting that day had earned him a type of bewilderment on the yakuza's part. They took him to see their gruesome yakuza boss, Boss Kazukyoko, for judgment. Whether this was pity for a son of a whore, or just plain shock that such a boy would think himself strong enough to face a member of the ever-feared, ruthless, killers under honor, I will never know. But either way, that was the day that Gozaburo got his chance at a life.
When young Gozaburo stood facing Boss Kazukyoko, smoke from burning tobacco blowing mercilessly all around him I'm sure, the emotions he felt were probably indescribable. Fear, yes. Sadness, yes. But his later actions tell of a sense of recklessness as well. But, just listen for now, Dear Reader.
(The following conversation transpires merely from my imagination and all those days when Gozaburo used to have me tied to a desk by a dog chain. I had a lot of time to think about this and came up with semi-reasonable dialogue.)
"What is your name, boy?" Boss Kazukyoko asked, smoke flying from his mouth and tobacco-worn face. His hair slicked back into a slimed steel plate of blackness, the image changes in my mind if he is fat or skinny, but I say fat this time. He was sitting behind a table in a high-backed chair of the finest leather I'm sure.
"Kaiba Gozaburo, Kazukyoko-sama." I'm sure my future stepfather was kneeling or bowing on all fours as was the proper way for someone to address the obi bun.
The fat man nodded here and looked at his cigar or pipe. "Quite a name. What was your mother's profession, Kaiba?"
"She was a man-pleaser, Kazukyoko-sama."
"You mean she was a whore."
"She was, Kazukyoko-sama."
He stood up from his chair here and went over to where Gozaburo was kneeling or bowing. "Now what would that make you, Inu-chan?" I'm sure he added the "Inu-chan" because Gozaburo called me this all the time. In Japan, dogs are considered the lowest of the low, so it is quite a heady insult.
"Her son, Kazukyoko-sama."
"The son of a whore?"
"Hai."
Here he smacked his fist down sharply on the table. "Hai, what?"
"Hai, Kazukyoko-sama!"
A nod. The fat man reverted back to his façade of calm but severe superiority. "Now what makes the worthless son of a whore able to stand up to a group of highly trained yakuza members? What makes him worthy, Inu-chan?"
He hesitated here, knowing where this was going. Finally, he admitted. "Nothing, Kazukyoko-sama."
"Nothing. Exactly. Very much correct, young Kaiba. So, let me ask you…" Here he kneeled down next to Gozaburo's ear. My future stepfather flinched and began to tremble, unsure of the next moves. For an obi bun's actions are ever unpredictable.
Directly into his ear, Kazukyoko-sama screamed, "…WHY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE CAPABLE OF SUCH ACTIONS, DAMN DOG? YOU DISHONOR MY MEN! YOU DISHONOR ME!" I can hear Gozaburo's potent but hesitant cries.
"I will not tolerate such impudence, Make Inu. You must be taught some manners!" The other members of the yakuza entered at his call. Dressed in black, with their tattoos signs of loyalty to their evil gang, (in Japan, the only people who get tattoos are those that are involved in some way to the yakuza).
"How would it feel to loose a finger, Inu-chan?" The despicable boss said, despicable enough to want to harm a child. "Would it satisfy your craving for violence? For dishonor?"
"Iie!"
"IIE, WHAT?"
"Iie, Kazukyoko-sama!"
A younger member of the gang gave the boss a tanto. Once in his hand, Kazukyoko fought Gozaburo for possession of a nine-year-old's finger. "You fight me? You are lucky not to receive death!"
"Iie, Kazukyoko-sama!"
Suddenly the boss stopped, for no reason it seemed. All in the room stood still in utter silence. (Didn't I say that an obi bun's actions were totally unpredictable?)
"Alright, young Kaiba. I will spare you the loss of a finger. I wish instead to teach you. You have an aura of lordship about you, I can tell." He flung the tanto at the wall and unsheathed a katana that had been stationary at his side the whole time, (you guessed it, my own future katana, Oni no Musuko).
"This blade, young Kaiba, shall be the only thing you will live by for the rest of your life. You understand? Stand up."
Tentatively, Gozaburo got up and said, "Hai, Kazukyoko-sama."
His face twisted into a smile. "Call me 'Otōsan'."
Thus Kazukyoko became the father, (the "Otōsan"), that Gozaburo never had. Needless to say, he was not the kindest. He taught Gozaburo everything he knew, and sometimes I can't help comparing their relationship to Gozaburo and mine. Like they say, hatred runs in circles.
Years later, Gozaburo was about 24, Kazukyoko and his kobun Gozaburo became the most powerful political and social figures in Okinawa. But Gozaburo had had enough of his mistreatment. He had plans for his inherited Otōsan.
One night, while Kazukyoko slept, Gozaburo took Oni no Musuko and slunk into his room. He swept the blade over his hated mentor's head and just as Kazukyoko began to wake, he crashed the blade down.
When Kazukyoko turned up dead the next day, everyone knew who had committed the crime. But no one said anything. Gozaburo had done the unthinkable—he had murdered his savior from a life of dishonor, one who just happened to be the 24-year-old's worst enemy.
Flash forward about thirty years. A little orphan, no older than twelve, with shocking blue eyes enters his insanely rich stepfather's study and sees a katana hanging in a spot of reverence on the fireplace mantle. It looks dangerous. The mere sight of it sends chills up his spine.
The vigilant eyes of his stepfather see the object of the boy's gaze. "Oni no Musuko. That katana is my mentor," he says in Japanese as the boy has just immigrated to America and does not yet know the language.
The boy does not understand. How could a mere sword be someone's upbringing?
"You will understand in time," the stepfather promises.
Flash forward another five years. I look down at my father's body from the broken window where he has just "fallen". Wind tosses my hair, a remnant of serenity returning, conjuring up minuscule glass shards into my face. I don't notice. I finally understand what he meant, that life's answers are hidden in a dark void called death.
I brought Oni no Musuko back to Okinawa and had the kanji carved into the blade. I decided that the phrase should be ever-present to remind me of the lesson Gozaburo learned at the age of nine and I learned at the age of twelve.
I also changed the name to "Oni no Ryōshin" ("Parent of a Demon") because the old name implies that the blade was created by evil. I rather think that the blade is the creator of evil.
So there it is. You have my adopted family history and you know the origins of my sword, the long lines of violence that created who I am and the blood that has stained the steel of the blade to this present day.
But who would have thought that all such violence would have created a little gay boy?
As I sat there on my bed deciding whether I should chance sleeping again and perhaps another deviant hentai dream or not, (for needless to say my previous dream had done nothing to abate my tiredness), I replayed the history in my mind. What would Wheeler think of my history? What would he think of Gozaburo? Of Kazukyoko, (who I guess could be called my grandfather if someone out there wanted to be sadistic)? Was Gozaburo anything like Wheeler's own father, an abusive, drunken alcoholic? I thought of the way Wheeler had reddened at my mention of his father. A pang of guilt flashed through me.
Wheeler. Joey Wheeler…Wheeler Joey…Wheeler-chan…my still exhausted mind focused on his face. Blonde hair…sweet chocolate eyes…a dopey smile, but still a pretty one, a laid back one, so alien to me…perfectly crafted body, if still a young one…long skinny legs, contained only in jeans…but jeans could be removed…What the hell was I thinking?
Why was this happening to me? Why me? Why did my one destruction in life have to be Wheeler, where was the attraction?
Oh come on you had to be blind not see the attraction…
Alright, but why him? Why couldn't it have been someone that wasn't my worst enemy? Someone that liked me, even a little? Or a girl for Jesus Christ's sake?
I dropped my head into my hands, the picture of despair. Damn it all to hell.
You must understand, I never ever cry. Ever. But right then, I felt like I really wanted to. And it scared the absolute hell out of me. Why were my emotions running rabid with Wheeler around?
I shot up, (alright I tripped a little as well because I was still partly asleep). Release. I needed to just calm the hell down.
School? Not at all an option.
Practice? Yes. Why not?
I went to the secret spot in the wall, the little cupboard-like thing hidden for only my katana. I took it out, (fingers trembling a little from sheer exhaustion and terror of an unknown source), kept it sheathed and went downstairs, (still without shoes, for I have to admit I was frantic).
Below my mansion, (or on one of the lowest levels), I have a full training dojo. Seriously, Gozaburo had the thing built when the mansion was first constructed. I spent at least half my time learning life by the sword in that same dojo. It has been a sort of comfort to me, though, because I can be as violent as I want without any competition or unwanted commendation by fearful adversaries.
The dojo is not a fancy place, if you can believe that. It's large, yes, and the ceiling is high, but the floor is made of cheap, unfurnished wood that was dust-covered from lack of usage and very splinter-prone. You had to wear freaking shoes if you wanted to practice without any pain.
But right then, I wanted a little pain. So I removed my black socks.
I entered the glass door that led to my room of torment/tutoring. Slightly deflated punching bags hung lazily on shiny metal chains, taunting me in their own way.
The rattle of the chains seemed to say, "It's Wheeler…Wheeler…" What the hell? I shook my head to get the sounds out. Was I truly loosing my mind now? I felt detached…
No. It was nothing a little violence couldn't fix. The world was found in violence.
I set my katana on the floor for the moment and took a fighting stick out of the dusted corner. I breathed in the rotting wooden smell, (for the planks on the floor were not really brand-spanking new), and prepared for the warm-up. A quick stretch and I was off.
I began the cleansing of the mind. I closed my eyes and rid the body of the bad emotions, the corrupt emotions, (anger, hate, frustration, lust…lust was hardest, but this was why I had gone). My Meeting…damn it to hell…damn D.B., damn them all as far as I was concerned. Stress drained and the only thing on my mind was the stick in my hand and the bag in front of me. That was how I liked it.
I opened my eyes. Slowly. The bag had transformed into D.B. standing there with her pale face practically glowing and her hair billowing off her shoulders in a smug expression.
"What makes the so-called impenetrable Seto Kaiba so easily defeated by such a boy as Joseph Wheeler?" I heard that voice I so despised. The accent rolled off my ears, the "Ls" not really being pronounced in "called" and the "J" in "Joseph" coming out like a "Y". How I hated the way she said his name. An image of Kazukyoko passed through my mind. "What makes you worthy?"
The stick twirled through my fingers like a baton and I laid my strike right on the bitch's mouth. I stepped back with my twirl and landed another blow to her stomach. The one-sided battle between me and D.B began.
Pain registered in my bare feet when I raised them to kick the bag in various moves, and splinters poked endlessly at the calloused flesh on the underside of my feet, but I did not pay them mind.
I moved tirelessly and fluently without a break until the muscles in my legs and arms screamed for a rest and I could not lay one more kick on her.
I dropped the stick and panted, my shirt stained with sweat. This was crucial to my training when I was a kid, but then I had had to work until I was beyond the breaking point. Here I could stop whenever I wanted.
I glanced at my watch. 1:47. I had been fighting with the bag for about 45 minutes. Non-stop. That wasn't bad, but I had done better. I allotted the slowness up to my tiredness and began to prepare for another round.
So hot. I was sweating profusely. If only I could remove my shirt it might save it from death by perspiration, (after all, it was silk). But…oh, what the hell? No one was around to see the scars I bared.
I tore, (ok not literally tore, but I did it quickly because I did not want to waste energy by standing still), my shirt off, folded it (pet peeve), and laid it next to my katana. Here was where the fun began.
I cleared my mind of any remnant thoughts and began pounding the bag again. This time it was Gozaburo I pummeled, as he said, "That katana is my mentor," in Japanese. He even freaking gestured to its position on the floor, to my disgust.
When I stopped again, I knew I was through. 2:28. I was panting heavily and tired totally. Perhaps innocent sleep would come to me now…
I put my hands on my knees and bent down in rest, the stick clanging to the wooden floor with a hollow sound.
"That was some hella-a good fightin'!"
The noise came from behind me, which was good because for a second there I thought that it was the chains again. I saw Wheeler on the other side of the dojo. He was just standing there watching me, totally relaxed against the wall, eyes bright with amazement in that entrancing way he had, (I have to admit that I small part of me was happy that those eyes were not dripping in blood).
Immediately, a thousand questions popped into my head. But none of them seemed to finish themselves. How did he…I left the door open…did he follow me…obviously…could he have found it by him…no…why was he watch…maybe he's…no!
"Wheeler?"
He got up from the wall with the practiced ease of an alley cat, (odd for such a mutt, no?). "Oh, so now ya' listenin' to me? Great! The silent treatment is ova'!"
"What are you talking about…" I was so confused, and a little frightened by his presence. I knew my eyes had widened considerably, I was loosing my "cool".
"Dude. I've been here the whole time, remember? I was sittin' by da front door, ya' know, waitin' ta see if another guy was gonna come, but no one did an' everythin'…and den all of a sudden I see you whip by me with a sword in ya' hand headin' fa' the basement…or wherever we are…" he paused and glanced around the shambled dojo.
That happened? No it didn't…
"I followed ya', because, ya' know, I thought you were, like, dyin' or somethin' by the way you were movin' so fast…and we came here. I was talkin' to ya', sayin' things like, 'Hey, Kaiba! Yoohoo, Rich-boy? Hey! It's Wheeler…Wheeler…hellooo?"
I was seriously about to say, "Oh so it wasn't the chains," but I didn't want to sound like a total basket-case, even though I knew I was. Why had I not noticed Wheeler the whole time? What was wrong with me?
Wheeler continued, "What's wit the silent treatment, Kaiba? Are we, like, arguin' or somethin' from before?"
"No…no, we're not arguing…I just didn't notice you were there." I looked at him straight in the eyes with nothing but fear. I was pleading with him to understand that this was the truth with that look, that I was a little freaked out by it as well, and that I wanted him to think I was still sane, even though I seriously doubted it.
Wheeler looked at me long and hard like he was estimating the truth of my answer. He decided it was alright after a few minutes and said, "Ok…that's a little freaky, Kaiba."
I nodded and looked away. Down at my bare chest. Hell...no. I was not wearing my shirt; Wheeler could see each and every scar burning into my flesh like little flames. I felt the need to cover my body like a little girl just then, but restrained myself because I wanted to go down with dignity and nothing else.
Wheeler didn't mention my partial nudity at first, though. All he said was, "Ya' know you're really pretty good. Where did ya' learn to fight like dat?" After a second of silence he said, "Oh, I forgot, that subject's taboo. Sorry! I should have remembered."
I turned my back to him and picked up the shirt, flinging the sweaty thing back on, in a desperate attempt to cover my exposed self.
"What, have you lost me in ya' mind again? Yeah, I'm still here, Kaiba-boy. Listen to me!" He started circling around the room with his arms spread wide and apart from his body. "Look at meee…"
I shook my head and buttoned the shirt. He hadn't even mentioned it. Pretend it never happened? Sounded good to me.
All I saw was Wheeler's blonde head fall to the floor in tow with his body from dizziness. "Are you alright?" I asked, annoyed partially.
Wheeler was sprawled on the floor. He said nothing.
A part of me panicked. Had he hurt himself, fallen unconscious? "Wheeler?" I half-shouted.
Nothing.
Oh goddamn. I felt like I was in for something horrible. Running over to his side, I put my hands on both his shoulders, (such innocent touch, but I didn't even get to enjoy it because I was so…unnerved, shall we say?), shaking him, "Wheeler? Wheeler? Wake-up! Are you alright?"
I shook harder and harder. "Wheeler! Wheeler, goddammit! Oh, damn! Wheeler! Goddammit!" I was shouting now.
His eyes were closed, but slowly he began to clench them and curved his mouth into a smile.
As soon as I saw it, I felt like an idiot. I stopped trying to wake him up and cursed him in hard Japanese. I turned my back and stared at the high ceiling in covered embarrassment, (I should tell Wheeler to write a book on how to embarrass an egotistical CEO. Can't you see the cover now? "How to Embarrass Your EGOTISTICAL Boss" and on the bottom in small print it will say, "Based on a True Story").
He burst out laughing. Hysterically in fact. "Oh, I really got ya' there, Kaiba…" he howled. "That was pretty funny…"
"Yes, laugh Wheeler. Because that is never going to happen again. Ever. In fact, write this moment down in your little diary because you'll need something to remember the time you actually got The Seto Kaiba. The one and only time."
He looked at me with smug eyes. "Never gonna happen again, eh? Sure, sure…I believe ya' there, Kaiba…riiight…" He suddenly began saying, "Kaiba…" in a weezy voice.
I can't believe I fell for it, but I turned around really fast to make sure he wasn't having a heart attack. What, it sounded like he was and my back was turned…
As soon as he saw my wide eyes he burst out laughing again. "I can't believe it! I thought fa' sure ya' weren't gonna believe me, not after that…oh, man…"
I cursed him again in hard Japanese. Damn mutt. I was so going to get him for this.
He stopped laughing for a moment and asked, "What is that, like, ancient Egyptian and you're gonna, like, curse me, now?"
"Sure. You believe in that kind of thing, right?" I asked, looking into his chuckling face for some fear and finding none.
"Eh…" he said and made a "so-so" gesture with his hand. "Not really. But was it really Egyptian?"
"No."
"Oh…den what was it?"
I started to move toward my katana, wishing to escape from where this subject was surely headed. My past. "Japanese."
"No shit?"
"No shit, Wheeler. It really is." I picked up the sheathed sword.
"Where did ya' learn dat?" He looked kind of intrigued.
Don't ask me why I told him the truth or gave him an answer at all. "I was born there, mutt."
"Were ya', really?" He stared at me, open-mouthed.
I threw my hand without the katana up in exasperation. "No, I'm lying…yes I really was born there, Wheeler."
He squinted his eyes at me. Here came the test. Leave now, I thought. "Wait, ya' mean dat you weren't born in America? Seriously, like you didn't grow up speakin' English?"
"That is correct."
"Whoa! I never knew dat!" He stood straight up like a jack-in-the-box. Turn the handle and you never knew when it'll spring.
"Obviously," I said.
His eyes were so enlarged. So beautiful…he actually looked like a soft little blonde puppy here. A little golden retriever…so cute…pet the puppy…kiss the puppy…whoa, now was so not the time.
"Wait, so, like when did you move here?" he asked incredulously.
"When I was twelve." If at all possible, I wanted to refrain from telling him why I had to move here.
"Why?" he questioned. Oh well…the eyes were too much.
"Well, when I was adopted I moved where my stepfather lived."
"You…were adopted?"
"Yes…"
"When you were twelve?"
"Yes…"
He leaned back, absorbed now. "I never knew that about you. Hmm…wait, so you were like an orphan and stuff?"
An orphan and stuff. Story of my life. "Yes."
"Ya' parents died and you were put up for adoption?"
"That would be correct…"
All smiles were gone from his face. "Both ya' parents died when you were twelve?"
"Well, my father died when I was six and my mother when I was ten. After that, Mokuba and I were put into an orphanage to await adoption from some kind soul."
"Hang on, slow down…let me just get all dis…" He repeated what I just said in a few less words and then paused for a moment, searching me. I met his gaze and fought for dominance of it. I won, but Wheeler still asked, "How did ya' parents die?"
A nerve resounded in my spinal cord and I froze for a moment. "You have no shame at all, do you, Wheeler?"
He surrendered his hands in front of him and said, "Ya' don't hafta tell me, course…"
We both waited for a minute as I regained my stamina. I wasn't going to tell him anything more, really I wasn't, but then I thought that the chances of both of us surviving this whole ordeal with the Mafia were slim to none. Why not?
"My father…" I blurted out. "…killed himself. And my mother, well she died in a car accident."
"Why did ya' dad kill himself?"
"I don't know. He was unstable me whole life, but he was Japanese. He should have been stronger, learned to live with it. But no. Not my father. I hate him. So much…" I sighed. Somehow we were both sitting against the wall of the dojo, the katana spread across my lap, and I stretched my arms with the last, "I hate him".
"I think dat suicide is dumb 'cuz, I mean, why would anyone wanna kill themselves when there are so many other people out there tryin' to kill them in da first place?" He was gazing off to himself when he said this.
"I don't know, Wheeler."
A moment's pause. "So what else happened, ya' said dat ya' were in the orphanage…"
"We were eventually adopted by a man named Gozaburo Kaiba. You've heard of him?" Probably not…but I thought everyone should have heard of Gozaburo.
Wheeler shook his head slowly.
"Alright, well he was the owner of a gigantic company called Kaiba Corp., only then it wasn't a gaming corporation. It was a company that made weapons for war."
"Bombs and crap like that?"
Bombs and crap. Story of Gozaburo's life. "Yes. You see, he had come to the orphanage looking for an heir and he saw something worthwhile in me, go figure…he challenged me to a game of chess and when I won, he adopted the both of us. When he adopted us—.."
"You play chess?"
I shook my head. "Not anymore. But when I did, I was the best." How far was I letting him go? Too far probably. But what the hell, he was dead after I was killed in this Meeting and then the secrets would be buried with us both.
Wheeler nodded approval then urged me to continue. "Well, we moved to America with him to live in this…humongous mansion…" I sighed.
"So ya' came from bein' totally poor and den got rich in like a second."
"Exactly. But the money wasn't mine…not yet of course."
"Yeah I figured dat. Hey, I have a question."
I nodded.
"Was Gozaburo a cool dad to have with all dat money?"
Joke? No, he was serious…but I nearly cried I laughed so hard. Really. I can't remember a time I was so hysterical, not since seven years ago anyway. Wheeler was in on the joke even though he didn't know why I was laughing; he giggled and asked me what was so funny.
I stopped abruptly after a minute and said, "Funny. But no, he was not cool."
Wheeler leaned back against the wall with me. "Bastard guy?" He sounded actually friendly when he said that. Not, like chummy or sympathetic, but just amiable. I loved it. So much. It was scary, I mean think about what we were talking about. These memories had been locked from the world for so long, and here I was telling them to this boy that I was slowly becoming more and more obsessed with. Joseph Wheeler.
"You have no idea."
"I bet I do…" he said and then reddened.
I looked at him. "Actually, you probably do. Your father didn't seem to be the kindest of men."
"Nah…it ain't dat he's not kind, I mean, he might be…I just never saw him sober enough to tell."
I nodded. "That I could assume from seeing him in our brief meeting."
"Ya' know," Wheeler began looking up at the ceiling, but not really seeing it, seeing something else entirely that gave him a window to a world out of this cruel one. One that only he could see. "Even when he beats me, I still think that there might be some good in him. I dunno why. It's dumb, right?"
I shook my head no. "No it's not. He's your real father. You have a bond with him no matter what he does to you, I know that. My real father killed himself and I still…well…" I thought for a moment. "If he was still alive and in trouble, I would try to bail him out. Let's just say that, alright?"
"Gotcha." He nodded. "Hey, whateva' happened to ya' stepfather, anyway?"
I smiled sadistically and told him a secret both Mokuba and I swore never to tell anyone. "I killed him and stole his company."
Wheeler did not move a muscle. He just said, "Whoa. That is insane, Kaiba. Goddamn insane. But I believe it."
A pause, then Wheeler started again. "Sometimes I think about killin' my own father. But I never would because I can only imagine what my life would be like without him for the first few days after. Then I would be livin' in fear forever, until I died. I'd be runnin' from the cops and tryin' to survive by myself, tryin' to forgive myself for what I'd done, and I might be too busy wid all dat to actually be happy at all."
"Is that you think, Wheeler?"
"Oh yeah."
"Well…you're absolutely right."
"Yeah?" He looked at me with sincerity, glad that I said that for some reason.
"That's what it's like Wheeler. But, it was different for me with my stepfather. I couldn't live and occupy the same world with him. Even if I just up and left my home, which I couldn't, he would always be out there chasing me, haunting me. I had to kill him. I would have never had a life if I didn't." That was the truth. There was no life with Gozaburo in it for me. Every success I made turned to failure in his tight grasp. Every single one.
"How d'ya know it's not like that wit me and my own dad?" Wheeler asked.
I thought for a moment. Then told him the only logical answer, "I don't. But, a part of me thinks that if it was, you'd be more like me and less like you." I supported my answer with a nod.
"So, is dat why you're so mean, 'cuz your father was?"
I sighed. "I suppose so."
We left that alone for a while. I knew I had given him the truth, whether I liked it or not and whether he believed it all or not, that was truly my past. Of course there were details I left out, details that not even I could tell you, my fine reader, because they are so close to my old self that I'd be, in all actuality, scared to tell anyone. I lost track of my old self somewhere along the line when I was young. I became this impossible being of complete control over self and everything I touch. It's so much safer than anything I was before my stepfather.
Wheeler broke the silence with sudden proclamation of himself, "My parents divorced when I was seven. I guess they thought they was doin' me and my sis' a favor by splittin' up and endin' all the fights, but they were so wrong. Takin' my sis' away from me was a mistake. We were the only bit of a family there was, course dat ended really quick." He sighed. I let him continue. "My dad started drinkin' heavy then. Couldn't take it, I guess. I sorta forget who he was before then, I remember mostly who he was after."
I could figure the rest out; Wheeler didn't want or have to tell me. But I had a question of my own, "Do you ever tell anyone what your dad does to you?"
He shook his head.
"Why?"
I saw his arms flinch and he sucked in a lot of breath through his teeth. "No one would believe me. 'Sides, I don' want anyone to know."
"But I know now," I reminded him.
He looked scared suddenly. "But you won't tell anyone, right?"
"How about this," I was ready to strike a deal, life could sometimes be like business; you just had to make the right agreements. "I won't tell on you, if you won't tell on me."
"Sure thing."
"Then that's that." I made a "finished" gesture with both my hands, and leaned against the wall.
Life is funny. I had always thought that Wheeler was poor, and I was correct in thinking that, but I never actually wondered what exactly went on in his house until the Mafia report brought us together. How had he always managed to hide the bruises from me, from everyone? I didn't know, but he said that he no one else knew. Not even Yugi? Did his best friend with the brown, spiky hair know? Did the ditzy one with the short dirty blonde hair know? Did his sister? I wanted to know, but the conversation was done. No more embarrassing questions for Wheeler.
I suppose I felt his gaze before I actually saw it. But I did turn my head to look at him eventually.
Chocolate eyes sparkled before me. I didn't feel anything but shock for a good 30 seconds. Shock for their beauty. Shock for the power they had over me, to still me, to still my heart for a good 30 seconds. His face didn't say anything, his porcelain features were still and only one emotion was visible if I looked really hard, and I did. It was an emotion I almost didn't recognize. Love. I'm serious, the look really was there. I thought back to the first time I had ever felt that emotion plastered all over his face, the time when I had brought him home after knocking him out with my katana. Attraction, maybe even a little bit of lust. Now Wheeler was feeling these? But I hadn't the time to think about that. All I saw were his eyes, his face. All I felt was the icy romance in my heart. Icy romance. Romance is icy.
Love is a weird thing, a weird emotion. It came upon me so suddenly, with the least person I'd wanted or expected, and even though I'd never felt it before I knew what it was. But other than the surprise, there was the beauty of it. The enjoyment of Wheeler's features, the hint of want I felt for him in the deepest pit of the romance. But mostly love is longing. Unabridged, unstaunched longing.
For, even as I saw the love in his eyes turn to lust, and our heads moved closer and closer and I lost track of his eyes and focused on his partially wet, tantalizing lips, I knew I could never have him. I could never let someone, not even Wheeler, have that much power over me. I could never let myself loose heterosexuality even if it meant having what I wanted. I could never have what I wanted.
I broke the moment when I looked away. Wheeler leaned back again, quickly. I realized that we had been just about to kiss. I tried desperately to shake the feelings and sweat off my body.
Wheeler put a hand on the back of his neck and laughed nervously, trying to lessen the intensity of the moment. We were both humiliated. In a way, that made it better, but I was acutely aware of how it did not go away.
"That was weird…" he said and laughed weakly again.
I nodded but was too disappointed in myself to say anything.
He stood up shakily. "Well, uh, I guess…uh…I'm gonna go upstairs now…"
Another nod. Was that the best I could come up with? Shame burned inside of me. Over everything. Too much shame, way too much.
Wheeler stood over me for a few more seconds then quickly hurried out of the dojo. I heard him actually break into a run when he was overhead. Somewhere in the house a door slammed. I closed my eyes with the slam.
All I could think of was how I had felt. Just before we were about to kiss, I knew that feeling had been love.
But if that was love, then why had it been so painful? A dull ache reverberated in my nerves, so emotional that it was almost physical.
Why was life so full of pain? Wheeler's life, my own life. There was too much of it—you'd think we'd use all of it up so there could be no more. But that was certainly not the case, of course.
I needed to solve these problems. I knew I couldn't love Wheeler and he definitely could not love me, (even though we both did). Reality was allowed to be sarcastic with you; a person didn't always get what they wanted. We had both learned this, why didn't we act like it?
I grabbed my katana and marched upstairs, moving agonizingly slower than I wanted to just as extra punishment for myself. At the front door, (which had been replaced with a new one after Gustov's son blasted it to bits with his damn shotgun in only day—a CEO can get material things in a heartbeat but he realized only too late that his emotional needs were not as easy to satisfy), I put on my black trench coat, the one I usually used only when I did hits, (it was hanging there from two nights ago when I had brought Wheeler home).
Wheeler and I had spent a few hours in the basement, the time was 5:06 a.m. I thought that I had given them all ample time to prepare for my presence, and D.B. had not specified what time I was supposed to meet them. Now seemed fine.
I opened the brand new door and stepped out just in time to watch the sun rise. It looked odd…bloody. The sun was killing the sky as it rose with a blood-thirsty style. The perfect start to my new day, I thought. A fresh start. I could only imagine what would happen that day, (and even my worst thoughts had been understatements I would know at the day's finish). But I knew that something would change.
Sometimes even fresh starts aren't enough to wipe the sins off a person's heart.
A/N: Ok, I know it was kind of short, definitely shorter than my last chapter, but this was very difficult to write and I think that this chapter absolutely HAD to happen even if it doesn't seem so right now. Joey and Kaiba HAD to stop wearing a mask of indifference and let each other know in an amped-up romantic scene that they felt the same way. It just had to happen, trust the authoress! Oh and sorry if you all wanted them to actually kiss, but that would be too happy, (lol)! Not yet, maybe later…but no spoilers!
Hope you enjoyed, please review for the little authoress! She loves you all! (throws kisses)