By ElveNDestiNy, written June 25, 2005
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: This story alternates between Kaiba and Amelda's perspective and this is back to Kaiba again. It's hard to write it that way and it's my first story using this…technique, but I like to the interplay between the two. Amelda's appearance is the American version—in other words, his hair is more like a really dark magenta rather than red. Sorry for the long wait, enjoy!
- o - o - o - o -
Later, Kaiba could never quite remember all the details of what exactly happened after he'd witnessed one of the most awful things he'd ever seen in his life. He recalled the bright red splatter of blood and the echoing blast of sound from the gun, so much louder than is ever expected. A man's thoughts change drastically when he's the one facing the wrong end of a gun. Things pass through his mind like lightning—loved ones, hated enemies, a blur of memory, fear, and last of all, pure survival instinct.
He'd always wondered at that particular liquid look in an animal's eyes right before its predator strikes. Is it some sort of realization that life would end in a few moments? Is it just overwhelming fear? Kaiba had never experienced it for himself and had never thought he would.
Oddly enough, the thought on the surface of his mind as he saw King's arm swing towards him, glistening sinister black, was that at least he'd had the sense to call the police. Beyond that, he wasn't sure what prompted him to act as he did in what felt like the next eternity.
Kaiba revved up his bike, put his foot to the pedal, and charged right at King, rather than wheeling away as any other sensible person might have done. He never even consciously decided it. He just did it.
It was probably the only thing that could have saved him. King jerked back, fingers convulsing on the gun, which went off at an angle since it was pointed towards the sky. Kaiba succeeded in driving into him and knocking him over with all the force of the motorcycle. King yelled out something and fired again, still missing.
Then, instead of running the hell away from there, for some reason Kaiba ran straight to the wreck of Amelda, Miruko, and the Cobra biker. He didn't even have the faintest idea of what he was going to try to do, and he half stumbled, half collapsed to his knees besides the pile of twisted metal that was all that was left of the two motorcycles.
He had a glimpse of Amelda's face, pale white with spots of blood as red as his hair. The gaping red hole in his chest seemed too unreal, as was the prone form of Miruko next to his brother. A sound from behind him warned him that someone was approaching and Kaiba twisted around to see King, apparently not seriously injured, walking to them, gun trained on the him. You might escape death once, but never twice. Kaiba for one moment completely believed that he was going to end his life here in this dingy little street alley, killed by a bullet, lying next to his former would-be killer. He felt lightheaded, hallucinating. Surely that was why he saw swirling lights entering the street like confused ghosts. It took a long time for him to realize that the buzzing in his ears was something more—sirens.
The police arrived, too late—though Kaiba was hardly about to complain—and they somehow in the midst of the chaos managed to arrest all the right people, who were taken away in patrol cars.
Kaiba felt a surge of anger when he saw the uniformed officers; if they could arrive so quickly now, why couldn't they have been here a few minutes earlier? It would have made a world of difference. But it would have as well, if the police had came a few minutes later.
They tried to take Miruko too, astonishingly unharmed but for bruises, scrapes, and cuts. His right eye was rapidly darkening purple and was puffed up. Kaiba didn't know quite how he did it, but he managed to keep Amelda's brother from joining the gang members in prison. He couldn't even remember how exactly he'd smooth-talked the situation over…it had to be all those years of business and glib replies. Giving people what they wanted to hear, but not quite lying, either. It helped that Miruko was still a minor and just a kid, after all. Those light grey eyes were painfully innocent and raw with emotion when they were gazing down at his older brother.
Amelda. The blood soaked into the sidewalk quickly, leaving only spreading red stains. Staring at it, only one thought kept on repeating in Kaiba's mind over and over again—the dark red almost perfectly matched Amelda's hair. Kaiba knew that he should call Raphael and Varon—their phone number was recorded in his cell phone from earlier—but somehow he was too shocked to do it. Or maybe he was just at a loss as to how to break something like this to them. 'Come quick, Amelda's dead or dying…'
The ambulance came in after what seemed like an eternity and Kaiba watched Miruko collapse next to Amelda, not crying. Too shocked for it, no doubt, too filled with disbelief. Maybe the boy had never seen the true effects of that gun that he'd carried and used with such easy familiarity and confidence. Kaiba stood over their crumpled figures like some guardian angel, feeling helpless again for the first time since he had been a child placed in the care of Gozaburo.
He bullied the medical staff into letting both Miruko and himself into the ambulance, even though he wasn't sure why he even bothered. He knew that the medical personnel had good reasons not to let family into the ambulance; they were distraught and could do more damage, however unintentionally. Even so, Kaiba pretended that he was Amelda's brother, and Miruko didn't say otherwise. The nurses knew who he was, and knew who he wasn't, but they didn't dare protest when he entered the small ambulance after Amelda's stretcher had been rolled in.
Standing by the side of the emergency stretcher and looking down, Kaiba thought that Amelda looked like he was already dead; he had been knocked unconscious by the crash and he'd taken a shot close to his heart. There seemed too much blood, like there shouldn't be so much blood from one body, and the quantity of that red fluid, the stuff of life, affected him deep down in ways that Kaiba had never admitted. He'd seen his own blood in a red pool like that before, had done it intentionally. What a fool he'd been, not to realize what he was doing.
He'd never understood how in any given moment, somewhere in the world someone was thinking of ending their life, and someone was doing every single thing they could to prolong their life. It was so bizarre. People closest to death struggled so hard to live those last few hours, and other people just gave it all away.
The ride there was frighteningly surreal. Miruko was pale and quiet, and Kaiba alternately admired his nerves and hated him for caring so little about his brother who had sacrificed so much for his sake. He finally called Raphael and Varon, hitting a lot of wrong numbers before his hands steadied enough to use the small cell phone. He only gave them terse instructions to go to the hospital, not explaining that Amelda might be dead before they arrived there, or that the doctors were grim because he had lost so much blood. For once he wished he were less blunt in stating the awful news, but he didn't know how to be otherwise. Not for a situation like this.
The rest was just standard procedure, and Kaiba watched with a kind of numb disbelief as Amelda was taken away to the emergency room, and then to God-knows-where, because they kept everyone out. It was better that a doctor didn't come for him and Miruko; that would mean that Amelda was dying or dead, and that they could go say goodbye.
He and Miruko sank into the battered chairs in the waiting room and Kaiba sat there and looked at the blue cloth, wondering how many tears they had absorbed over the years. The room had the right sort of atmosphere, the kind of tense waiting, like the intensive care unit…the feeling that any moment now, your worst nightmare might come true. Every time the door opened and someone went in or out, Kaiba's heart skipped a beat and he held his breath without realizing it.
He kept on thinking, Amelda's dead, he's beyond saving, you saw how he was…it was better to prepare for the worse, but Kaiba knew he wasn't being honest with himself. Underneath it all was that cursed hope. An hour passed, the seconds passing like days. There was nothing worse that this waiting. He hated it.
Varon and Raphael came and they directed their anger at Kaiba, on whom it rolled off on like raindrops rolled off an umbrella. But Varon broke soon enough and he sat in the corner of the room with his head buried in his hands, wild tufts of soft brown hair sticking out every which way through his fingers. Just because the tears were hidden didn't mean that they didn't know that they were there. Raphael sat next to Miruko, silent and solid as a rock. He was not the kind of person to break faith easily. Miruko still sat, silent and sullen, as if some of the shock had passed. But he didn't grieve, for whatever reasons of his own.
Amelda didn't look much better when they were finally allowed to go in and see him, although technically the only was with any real permission was Miruko, since visitors were limited to 'close family.' But Kaiba snarled at the doctor that Varon and Raphael were the closest thing Amelda had to a family. He didn't even realize he'd included himself in the description until later.
He might not make it. That was the sum of the doctor's kindly words to Kaiba. None of the others had heard; after the physician's confused jumble of an explanation Kaiba had quietly excused himself from the waiting room and followed the doctor, demanding to know what exactly the prognosis was with no nonsense thrown in.
They took turns sitting besides him through the night, but he never woke. The nurse assured them that this was normal. First Varon went in, and when Kaiba checked the room half an hour later, he opened the door a bit and heard the low murmur of a voice. He wondered what Varon was saying to the unconscious Amelda—perhaps it was all the things he could not say when Amelda was alive and well. Kaiba had no idea what the dynamics were amongst the three former DOOM warriors and he let the door slip shut again with a barely noticeable click, unwilling to disturb Varon's privacy.
The police came and took Kaiba and Miruko's statements, then threatened to take Miruko in for questioning. Kaiba intervened, and the fact that Amelda's condition was still critical seemed to soften the officers a little. Miruko wasn't off the hook yet; he'd fired the gun at the blonde gangster, after all, but any further question would be delayed at least until Amelda's condition stabilized—or until he died.
When Varon came out again, they looked at Miruko. "Your turn," Kaiba said. "Go see him."
"I don't want to." The sharp reply shocked Raphael and Varon, but not Kaiba. He looked at Miruko thoughtfully. "You go ahead," the teen, looking like a younger version of Amelda, said shortly to Raphael. "I don't care."
Miruko was the only one besides Kaiba who seemed to show no signs of worry or grief. But whereas everyone knew to some extent that Kaiba's cold façade did not reflect his true feelings, Miruko seemed truly unconcerned, even a little angry that he had to be here waiting. Raphael entered the hospital room without another word to anyone.
Kaiba thought briefly of going home to Mokuba, but then realized that he would never forgive himself if Amelda had died while he was away. He opted to call Mokuba instead, only telling him that Amelda was in the hospital with life-threatening injuries but that Mokuba should stay home. This almost escalated to a fight over the phone, as Mokuba had taken a liking to Amelda. Kaiba usually had a very high threshold when it came to patience—after all, he had to deal business with morons nearly every day. But he ended up ordering Mokuba to stay at home and then clicked his cell phone shut with a sharp snap that sounded too loud in the waiting room.
He'd been contemplating an apology—though the sort that came from him could hardly be called apologies, more like the slight admission that he may have been wrong—when Raphael came out, three hours from when he'd gone in.
"No change," he said when Varon looked up with hopeless eyes. "That could be a good thing, though," Raphael quickly added. "Remember, the doctor said he should wake up soon." It sounded awkward; in their minds they all added on if ever.
Kaiba got to his feet, but rather than going to the door he stalked over to Miruko, causing both Varon and Raphael to look at him with concern. They were both put on edge by Miruko's attitude in pretending that he didn't care about Amelda. After all, to them Amelda's brother was a virtual stranger and was the one that had caused all this.
Miruko hardly seemed to notice or care that his brother's two closest friends were viewing him with increasing hostility. His expression was pure defiance and he seemed not in the least bit intimidated by the famous young man towering over him. "What do you want?"
Again, Kaiba simply stood over Miruko, looking down thoughtfully. "Why won't you go see Amelda?"
"I told you, I don't want to!" The outburst seemed to be only the beginning as Miruko stood up, clenching his fists and looking dangerously as if he were about to fight Kaiba right there. "I never wanted him back in my life!"
"Are you saying you don't have the slightest bit of love for your brother?" Kaiba pressed. He was close enough to see the sheen of tears in the silver eyes that glared at him.
"That's right! Why am I here anyway? Can't he just die already and leave me alone?"
It was too much. Varon clenched his fists and started towards the youth, not caring that this was Amelda's beloved little brother who had dominated his friend's life for as long as he had known him. Likewise, it surprised no one when Raphael suddenly stood up from the sagging hospital chair. The only thing that was amazing was that Kaiba beat them both to it.
"Shut up. Shut up, you little idiot!" Kaiba grabbed Miruko's arms in a punishing grip and spun him around, hands clenching even tighter when the teen tried to escape by attempting to give his captor a blow to his stomach.
"You're coming with me right now!" He half dragged Miruko into the hall and to the door of Amelda's room. A nurse looked at them, startled, and dropped her clipboard with a crash. Kaiba's expression had her hastily looking away, pretending she hadn't seen him manhandle Miruko, who was struggling with all his might against Kaiba's unbreakable grasp.
Varon and Raphael followed but at Kaiba's look, Raphael stopped and put an arm out to halt Varon besides him. "He'll handle it," the taller duelist said. Varon looked as if he might argue but instead turned to meet Kaiba's eyes across the hall. After a moment he nodded and the two went back to the waiting room.
Kaiba shoved open the door, glad that Amelda had been put in a separate room, unlike most patients who weren't lucky enough to be acquainted with a magnate. Miruko stumbled in behind him and he all but tossed the teen into the chair next to Amelda. The brunette almost savored his anger towards Miruko; he could not remember anytime that he had cared so much about anyone other than his brother.
"Listen to me, Miruko," he hissed. "Your brother might never wake up. He might be dying right now, as I speak, and now that I know you, I think his sacrifice was worthless. He was a good person that loved his little brother so much he would do anything to revenge him, and this is how you treat him? As if he were a stranger, as if he hadn't saved your life? Do you know why he did it, Miruko? Do you?"
The fury burned from his eyes and Miruko stared with a deer-in-the-headlights expression, unable to look away. The only difference was that he faced something more terrifying than an oncoming truck—he faced Kaiba in his worst temper. Kaiba released his arms as if just realizing that he was hurting the boy and they dropped down to Miruko's sides, white finger-shaped marks on his wrists.
"He did it because he loved you enough, Miruko, even after the way you've treated him, hurt him right there in my own office. You're damned lucky that you have someone in the world that cares that much about you."
Miruko was nearly as pale as Amelda. A slap couldn't have been more effective. Kaiba gestured towards the bed. "Go on, look, Miruko. Is this how you repay him? By cursing him for inconveniencing your life because he's stuck in a hospital, bleeding his life away through plastic tubes, because he took the bullet meant for you?"
"I…" Miruko's voice cracked and he crumpled in the chair, head in his hands. Kaiba's verbal abuse was brutal, but he'd finally broken through to Miruko. He looked at the redhead, seeing Amelda pale as death in the corner of his vision. Miruko was not quite a man yet, but at the same time he not a child any longer, not by any means. Somewhere caught in between, still confused and lost, not sure who were his friends and who were only trying to hurt him.
"Why did you do it for me?" Miruko whispered, looking down at his brother. "I wasn't worth it, Amelda."
"He loved you enough to die for you." Kaiba's voice was hoarse and tired but unwontedly gentle. He stood on the other side of the bed, looking at Amelda himself. Miruko seemed to have forgotten that he was there, and Kaiba decided to give him some privacy. He walked to the door but hesitated, turning around.
"You have to live, you just have to." A small sob escaped Miruko and Kaiba saw a little of how he must have been as a boy during the war, clinging to his older brother for safety. No wonder Amelda had loved him so much.
The last thing he saw was Miruko crying into his arms besides the bed. "Wake up, Amelda," he whispered. "Please. Please come back to me, big brother…I'm so sorry…"
Kaiba thought for the first time since he'd found Miruko that perhaps he had done a good thing after all in reuniting the brothers, healing the damage that Gozaburo had done, whatever the outcome now. He believed with a curious sense of certainty that Amelda could not possibly die, surrounding by such loving friends and with his beloved brother by his side. Fate could not be so cruel to tear them apart again so soon after they had found each other.
Kaiba thought about Mokuba and his hand slipped into his pocket, feeling the smooth, hard shape of his cell phone. He'd left Mokuba with harsh words that his little brother hadn't deserved, but in face of death Seto had learned that pride was a high price to pay. The infamously cold, callous, and arrogant CEO stood in the white hallway of the hospital and tried to remember the last time he'd said to Mokuba that he loved him. Not since the orphanage, since Gozaburo became their stepfather.
He took the small object out and began dialing home.