Virtually Yours

A Millionaire and His Strife

Seto snapped his phone closed and sneered at it. Stupid mutt! How dare he think himself good enough to even scrub the toilets of Kaiba Corp! And then to turn around and call like that - to have the sheer audacity to call Seto's private cell phone! Seto glared at the offending phone. When he found out how Wheeler had gotten his number, heads would roll!

Snarling words under his breath that he would never want to hear Mokuba repeating, Seto began packing his briefcase. He would go home, put Mokuba to bed, and go play the game with Merry. Then he could forget all this unpleasantness with the damn dog. That's exactly what he needed. Seto's lips were already starting to curl into a faint smile at the thought of his gaming partner. It would be nice if Merry called and they could arrange to meet somewhere. Seto could easily afford to go anywhere in the world, and he wanted to be able to put a face to the boy with whom he spent so much time.

When the time came that Merry normally showed up, Seto was logged in and waiting. Minutes passed, and then an hour. Still Seto's friend list said, "0/1 Online." Another hour came and went and still no Merry. Seto chewed his lower lip in worry. Where could he be? What if something horrible had happened? Maybe he'd been mugged. Or he could have been run over. Or his father could have...

Seto shook his head quickly to clear that train of that. Far more likely, Merry had just been exhausted and had gone home to sleep. "But," a little voice in the back of Seto's mind whispered. "Wouldn't he have at least come online to let you know?" Yes, he would have. Merry was considerate enough to come online just to say that he couldn't play tonight. So where the hell was he?

Eventually sleep claimed Seto at his computer. No shouts for the Professor woke him up, and all he had to show for his electronic vigil was a stiff neck and a stomach cringing with dread.

Still, Seto refused to abandon his post. There was always the chance that Merry had been too tired to even get online. But he would show up this morning, wouldn't he? Merry had to show up! He had to be well and unharmed! And when he came online, Seto would pump him for every bit of contact information he could get. Seto resolved to never have to spend another night worrying like this.

As the morning wore on with no Merry, Seto began reviewing what he knew about his friend, trying to think of something that would help him locate Merry. They operated on similar schedules, so it was likely that they lived in the same time zone, though Merry could still conceivably be an hour ahead or behind. Seto frowned. That was still a lot of ground to cover.

Seto went to his bookcase and pulled out an atlas. Grabbing a Sharpie, he drew a circle around the likely time zones. Yes, it was definitely a lot of ground, but it narrowed things down a little. Idly, Seto went ahead and crossed out the icy uninhabited regions of the world. Seto wracked his brain, but couldn't come up with any other location clues. He knew Merry had a sister, Merry lived with his father, Merry was a closet bookworm and a goofball to the world. But none of that would help him find Merry!

Snarling, Seto rose and hurled the atlas against the wall. Somewhere out there, his Merry needed him, and he could do nothing! Sinking back into his chair, Seto buried his face in his hands. He hadn't felt this helpless since his duel with Yugi in Duelist Kingdom.

"Big brother," came a soft voice from the doorway. "Aren't you going to get ready for work?"

"Can't," Seto murmured, forcing a quaver out of his voice. He wouldn't show weakness, especially not in front of Mokuba. "I've got to wait for Merry. He... I think something's happened to him. He hasn't been on since you got to talk to him."

Mokuba crossed the floor to his big brother and threw his arms around him. "If you're not going to go to work, get some rest. I'll watch for him." Seto cast a look over at his bed, admitting to himself that the restless scrap of sleep that he'd gotten had hardly been enough. "I promise I'll wake you if he comes online, Seto. I promise."

Seto lurched from his chair to the bed, collapsing onto the soft mattress. Mokuba scrambled onto the newly vacated chair and took up the watch. Knowing that Mokuba would be true to his word, Seto allowed sleep to reclaim him.

"Worthless brat," a gruff voice huffed in Seto's ear. Seto kept his eyes squinched shut tight. It was a child's philosophy, born from the days where curling up with the covers pulled tightly over your head would keep the Monster Under the Bed away. If you couldn't see the Monster, it couldn't get you. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" snarled the voice with breath that reeked of cigars. Gozaburo would always be Seto's Monster Under the Bed.

But Seto wouldn't open his eyes. He wouldn't acknowledge his tormentor. "Professor, help!"

Seto's eyes shot open at the sound of Merry's voice, and he almost fell off the castle battlements. Wait... Castle? Was he in the game? No, Seto realized as he glanced around. He knew this castle – Duelist Kingdom.

"Professor!"

Merry cowered against the wall, a trembling hand reaching out to Seto. And between them stood Gozaburo, swishing a riding crop back and forth. Once he had Seto's attention, Gozaburo turned to Merry and ripped at "her" dress, exposing the back. "You can't save anyone, you worthless brat! All you can do is watch." Gozaburo smirked at Seto before turning to strike at Merry with the crop. Again he struck, and again. Red welts rose against pale skin.

Seto lunged – he'd shoved Gozaburo out a window once, surely he could shove him off a castle! But as he reached his monstrous adoptive father, the older man raised a hand, and Seto couldn't move. He could only watch as Gozaburo continued his attack. When Gozaburo finally stepped away to let Seto admire his handiwork, Seto screamed. It was a scream he couldn't stop; it tore at his throat, filled with terror as he stared at the pile of flesh and blood that was barely even recognizable as human. One perfect, untouched hand continued to reach out for Seto, a silent plea for the help he couldn't give.

"Merry!" Seto was still screaming as he bolted up in his bed. A dream... Gozaburo was still dead. He, at least, couldn't touch Merry. Seto took deep, gulping breaths, trying to still his trembling body.

"He...hasn't been on yet, big brother," Mokuba said quietly from his station at the computer.

Merry never showed that day. The next day Seto made himself go in to work, but only after extracting promises from both Mokuba and his trusty right-hand man, Roland, that they would keep a continuous watch. Yet another day passed before Seto got a call from Mokuba. "He's online in Lilyvale. He wants to talk to you." Seto wasted no time in logging onto the game.

"Merry!" Seto sent his character running through Lilyvale, heading for the inn. There he was, waiting right outside. "Merry, are you alright? Where've you been?"

"I'm fine." Merry's tone said otherwise, lacking the usual bubble and fire – the spunk – that Seto was so used to hearing. "A sprained wrist and bruised pride, Professor, but nothing fatal. I... I had a brush with my old man, and... I got fired."

Seto's heart sank. He knew how much Merry had been depending on that job, and from everything Seto had heard, he'd been doing great work. "You told me that you'd call, Merry. You promised." Merry sighed, but didn't say anything. His silence was worrying. "Nevermind. All that matters is that you're fine. So what happened? Tell me everything."

"There's not much to tell," Merry muttered, heading into the inn. Seto followed her, and they sat at a table together. "The guy that owns the place hates me. He found out I was working there, and he fired me."

Anger burned in Seto's chest. How dare someone treat his Merry like this! He snarled and slammed his fist on his desk. "Don't worry, Merry. There are laws that protect people against things like this! I'll get you a lawyer and we'll sue this guy! He won't know what hit him!"

Merry began to laugh – a choking, ragged sound without the slightest shred of joy in it. "Oh, Professor... What chance does a 'mangy fucking mutt' stand against Kaiba Corp, you bastard?" And then he logged off, leaving Seto at the table alone.

"Mangy... Fucking..." Seto's stomach dropped to his feet. Wheeler was his Merry? He'd promised to help Merry, to protect him. And yet he was the one who had ruined all of Merry's plans. Trembling, Seto buried his face in his hands. "Mutt..."

"Merry doesn't exist," Seto muttered to himself. "He's just a figment created by that damn mutt to torture me." No matter how hard he tried, though, Seto couldn't bring himself to believe such a lie. Wheeler had to care a little. Even after the things Seto had said, Wheeler still came back to the game. He could have just not come back at all. But he came back to explain and to let Seto know he was alright.

Seto shut his eyes, hearing that bitter sobbing laugh in his head again. For the first time in his life, he'd heard Wheeler truly hurting, and he was the cause. He'd destroyed everything. If that was the case, then it was his job to fix everything as well. Seto shut down the game and started bringing up Wheeler's employee file.

Once he had the information that he wanted, Seto whipped out his phone and summoned Roland to bring the limo to the front of the building. There was no time to waste! Seto took the elevator down to the first floor, his bleak expression forbidding anyone to speak with him on the trip down. When he reached the limo, he handed Roland a print-out with Wheeler's address. "Take me there."

"Mr. Kaiba, sir!" Roland gasped after scanning the page briefly. "This isn't exactly the safest of neighborhoods..."

"I don't care," Seto snarled as he settled in the back of the limo. "Either take me there, or I'll get behind the wheel and drive myself there." Roland wisely stifled any other protests and started to drive.

As Roland drove, Seto stared out the window, drumming his fingers tunelessly on his briefcase. The scenery whizzed by as they went through upper class neighborhoods, middle class neighborhoods, and then reached the part of town where people automatically lock the car doors upon arrival. Roland automatically locked the car doors.

When at last they pulled up in front of a run-down tenement apartment building, Seto frowned. This was where the mutt lived? No wonder he wanted out so badly. A hooker sitting out on the front steps stood, pulling the already low-cut neckline of her shirt even lower as Seto stepped out of the limo. "Hey, hot thing," she purred. "For fifty bucks, I'll do anything you want."

Seto shoved past the woman and made his way into the building. There was an "Out of Order" sign on the elevator, but Seto wouldn't have trusted that contraption in a place like this anyway. Instead, he went for the stairs, going two at a time. When he left the stairwell and stepped out into the third floor hallway, Seto's ground-eating pace quickened. Someone was shouting, and the voice carried easily through the paper-thin walls.

At the end of the hall, Seto found the door he was looking for. On the other side, he could hear the shouting voice all too clearly. "Stupid! No-good! Worthless!" Seto tested the doorknob, finding that it turned with no resistance. He stepped into the apartment. And gagged, almost stepping back out again. The place reeked of alcohol, garbage, and an unwashed body. Beer bottles littered every available surface – most empty, though some still contained a couple of swallows.

Seto followed the sound of the shouting voice, and within moments came across a man standing in front of a doorway kicking at something. Snarling, Seto grabbed the man's shoulders and slammed him around into the wall. The man's hair might once have been golden, but time had paled it to a dirty dishwater blonde. His eyes might have been the same honey-brown as Joey's, if they hadn't been so bloodshot. The similarities ended there, but the resemblance was just enough to identify this overbearing drunk as Joey's father.

"Don't you touch him!" Seto roared, as he held the older man against the wall. "Don't you ever lay a filthy finger on him again!"

The man blinked bleary bloodshot eyes at Seto, but he didn't struggle. Seto's gaze spoke of a thousand painful deaths to the few primal survival instincts left in the man's booze-soddened mind. "Worthless bas-shtard," he managed to slur. "Won't get up."

Won't get up? Seto hurled the man aside like a broken doll and whirled around, finally allowing himself a look at the thing the man had been kicking. Joey lay face down on the floor, unmoving, a patch of blood seeping through the back of his shirt.