Third Dream

The pain was gone when he opened them. He stood in the middle of what he took, at first, to be a field covered in mist. The sky was dark with clouds. Every so often, a rumbling of thunder rolled through them. The moisture in the air stuck to his skin, his lashes.

"Where is this?" he asked. "I don't recognize this."

The pharaoh was standing behind him. The all-seeing eye on his forehead was glowing, but it did nothing to extinguish the gloom. The man's mouth was set in a hard line and his eyes glared up at Seto.

"This is your future," he said.

"Then where's Kaiba Corporation? KaibaLand? The Academy?" Seto pointed an accusing finger at him. "You've tricked me."

"This is your future." The pharaoh lifted an arm and pointed up the hill.

A shape manifested out of the mist, dark and looming. A roof of some kind, standing on for thin metal legs. A canopy, or wall-less tent. Humanoid shapes were moving about, gathering in groups before descending the hill in his direction.

"Go and see what your future holds," the pharaoh said.

There was tingling at the back of Seto's mind. A sour dread coated the back of his tongue. He tried to swallow it, but found his throat stuck tight. He forced himself to start up the hill, his boots feeling as if someone had replaced their soles with lead. He didn't bother to weave through the crowd as they passed, but let their bodies pass through his. No one seemed to notice, let alone care. He didn't recognize their faces, though their voices rose out of the mist to swirl around him in snippets of conversation.

"What a shame."

"Good riddance, if you ask me."

"What's he going to do?"

"Told you he'd work himself to death."

More shapes loomed out of the fog as he cleared the body of the crowd. Slabs of granite stood in lines like a platoon of soldiers, none more than waist-high. Seto's feet stuttered to a halt. The realization chilled his blood.

A graveyard. He was walking through a graveyard.

But who was dead? Mokuba?

Fear and panic clenched his insides. Seto quickened his steps. The tent was empty save for one lone figure and rows of folding chairs. Seto all but ran inside. He skirted the fresh rectangular hole in the ground to the figure's side. They were almost as tall as Seto, but it wasn't him. It was a face he'd recognize at any age.

Mokuba was older, perhaps in his twenties. His messy black hair was cut short and slicked back. There was a maturity to his face that didn't feel natural. The soft curve of his jaw was hard and angular, like Seto's. His eyes were narrowed by age and experience. What was most unnatural was the coldness, the emptiness of his expression. The older Mokuba's eyes may have been red, glistening with unshed tears, but they were hollow.

"Mokuba…" Seto knelt in front of him.

He reached out a hand to touch his brother's face, but it faded through the skin. He clenched his fist and pulled it back, hanging his head.

"Mokuba," came another voice.

Both Seto and the older version of his brother looked up. For a moment, Seto thought the pharaoh was standing there, manifested in the future just to spite him. But as the lookalike stepped further in, he could see that it wasn't the pharaoh at all, but Yugi. The hair and the shape of the eyes weren't quite right, but for all intents and purposes, Yugi looked just like his old alter ego.

Yugi sat beside Mokuba and leaned forward on his knees. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine."

Even Mokuba's voice was shocking. It was deeper, hard, yet cracked with the immensity of his grief.

"You don't have to pretend," Yugi said. "It's just me."

Mokuba glanced at him. The steel-hard exterior melted away. Everything about the younger man seemed to sag; shoulders, eyes, face. Overwhelming grief overcame him and Mokuba collapsed forward to put his head in his hands with such suddenness, that Seto reared back, almost falling into the hole behind him. He stood up, his pulse hammering in his neck.

"What am I gonna do, Yugi?" Mokuba asked. "I don't know if I can do this by myself."

Yugi put an arm around his shoulder. "You're not alone. We'll help as much as we can. When's the will reading? I'll come with you for moral support."

Mokuba shook his head. "There wasn't a will. I don't think he expected to die like this. I've gotta call the company lawyer tomorrow and make sure the transition goes off without a hitch, but…"

Yugi's head tilted to one side. "But?"

Mokuba pulled his hands down and began fidgeting with his fingers, much like he'd done in Seto's vision for the present. "I don't know if I want it. I acted like I did cause Seto would've been mad otherwise, but… I don't know. Is that wrong?"

"It's your life, Mokuba. You can do what you want with it."

"Can I? Seto built my whole life around the company. He picked my major. He wouldn't let me move out. I couldn't even tell him I was dating Shizuka cause I knew he'd be pissed off, just cause our brothers didn't get along. She called me a coward. I feel trapped." Mokuba turned his eyes to the hole. "I don't wanna end up like him, Yugi."

"It's not too late."

"Isn't it?" Mokuba snapped. "He pinned me into a corner. It's our name on the marque. If I sold the company, it'd feel like I'm betraying him. Sure, I could go back to school, but what's the point? People'll only wanna work with me cause I'm his brother. I'll have to spend the rest of my life trying to get out of his shadow."

Yugi rubbed a hand over Mokuba's shoulders. "He wouldn't want you thinking like that."

"Wouldn't he? It feels like I didn't even know him, and he's my brother. How can I not know my own brother? I was nothing but a burden to him anyway. All I ever did was get in the way or get kidnapped."

"You know that's not true."

"I don't know what is or isn't true anymore. Didn't exactly get the chance to ask, did I? All he ever did was push me away."

Yugi let out a heavy breath and pulled the younger man tighter to his side. "I'm sorry, Mokuba. I'm so sorry."

Mokuba wiped hard at his face, clenching his teeth against his betraying tears. "I don't think I can do this without him."

"We'll figure it all out," Yugi said. "Did you want to stop over before you went home? Anzu and the girls wanted to make you lunch after the ceremony."

Mokuba gave him a sad smile. "I think I'd like that. Can you give me a minute, though? I wanna say goodbye."

"Take your time." Yugi got to his feet and put his hands in his pockets. "I'll wait for you by the car."

"Thanks, Yugi, really."

Yugi shrugged. "It's what I do, apparently."

The older Yugi got up and walked away. Mokuba watched him go until his shadow disappeared within the mist. He pulled at a cord around his neck and pulled from beneath his shirt a familiar locket, shaped and adorned like the back of a Duel Monsters card. There was a faint click as Mokuba's thumb undid the latch and the cover popped open. Inside lay half of the old picture taken of Seto and Mokuba before they were adopted. The younger Seto stared up out of the glass with a distant smile, the last real one Seto was sure he'd ever made.

"You wouldn't have wanted any big speeches," Mokuba said. "It all felt so wrong. I just wish… I wish you would've let me in. I could've helped or, I don't know, done something to lighten the load. You always had to do everything by yourself. I don't know if that's cause you were being selfish or controlling or just trying to protect me. I wish I knew. I shouldn't have to spend the rest of my life sitting around speculating. It's not fair."

He closed his fist around the locket. "No use worrying about it, right? Focusing on the what-ifs is just a waste of time. Sounds like something you'd say, anyway. But what am I supposed to do when all I've got are 'what-ifs', huh? Can you tell me that?"

He grimaced and clenched his eyes shut. "This is stupid. Even if you could answer, you'd probably just brush me off."

He pushed himself to his feet, pulling the locket from around his neck as he did so. He stepped up beside the headstone. On its face were the words:

Seto Kaiba

Beloved Brother

October 25, 1980 - December 22, 2010

Mokuba the locket on top of the headstone. "Goodbye, Seto."

Seto watched him walk away. It hurt to breathe. The wet chill of the mist was nothing compared to the icy pain inside him. For all the world, he wanted to disappear, to wallow in the sorrow of knowing the pain he'd caused his own flesh and blood. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, but he did nothing to stopper them. They were tears he deserved.

"What killed me?" he asked.

The pharaoh was next to him to answer. "Car accident. You fell asleep at the wheel."

Seto scoffed. "So I'm destined to die just like my father." He bowed his head with a bitter smile. "It figures. No matter how hard I work, I'm just repeating someone's cruel cycle."

"Kaiba…"

"How do I change this?" Seto turned fierce eyes on the pharaoh. "I've said it before, I make my own destiny. I'm not going to settle for this."

"You want to know how to change your fate?"

"Yes."

"You have to ask me how to change your fate?"

"Ye-" Seto leaned back on his heels. "What?"

"If you have to ask how to change your fate, Kaiba, then it's already too late for you." The glow of the eye on the pharaoh's forehead intensified. "I've shown you all you need to know. If you can't find the answer for yourself, then hope is truly lost." He stepped forward.

Seto stepped back. "No."

"Yes, Kaiba." The pharaoh took another step.

Seto's heel teetered on the edge of the pit. He looked back, down into the darkness. Below lay a casket; sleek dark wood with glimmering brass fixtures. For one, horrifying, moment Seto imagined the corpse that lay inside. His corpse. Cold and pale, preserved to just the mere imitation of life. His eyes and lips sewn shut, no more than chemicals in empty veins. The caverns of his body empty, all viable organs gone to those who value their lives.

Unlike the man to which they originally belonged.

Seto tried to step forward, to regain his balance, but found his only salvation blocked by heat and light and overbearing power. "What are you doing?!"

"Opening your mind." The pharaoh put both hands on Seto's chest and pushed.

Seto grasped the edge of the pit, scrambled for purchase. With his height, his feet should have landed on the top of the coffin, but instead, he dangled, kicked, tried to find a foothold on the dirt wall, but slipped further down with each attempt to make one. He looked down, but saw only darkness. Seto grabbed for the only solid thing he could reach. His fingers encircled the pharaoh's ankle. For a moment he feared his hand would faze through, but the flesh was firm, warm as if by the light of some internal sun.

"This isn't funny!"

"No one's laughing, Kaiba." The pharaoh knelt and took Seto's wrist.

The grip was stronger than it had any right to be. Seto's fingers were opened against his will and the pharaoh lifted him, suspended him over the abyss.

"This is your only chance, Kaiba, your last chance. If you want to change your fate, then you must look inside yourself for the answer. You alone can save yourself. I've done all I can for you. My conscience is clear. Is yours?"

Seto's eyes widened. "Yugi…"

"Goodbye, Kaiba."

Seto flung his other hand up to catch the pharaoh's wrist. His fingers faded through the flesh. He was falling. The radiance of the pharaoh's form in the window of the pit faded into the distance. Seto screamed and only his own voice came back to meet him.