Chapter Twenty-Seven
"Are you sure that was wise?" Dr. Angevin asked.
"It was the right thing to do," Seto said.
There was a fresh collection of tabloid cutouts on the cushion next to him. He refused to look at them. He already knew what they would say. He didn't want to be reminded of that final night, of the heaven that had crumbled into the deepest pits of hell. Seto called Dr. Angevin's emergency line as soon as he'd been able to pull himself back to his feet that day and she had managed to move appointments around to see him first thing the next morning.
She had a dubious look on her face. "I'm not going to tell you whether what you did was right or wrong. I cannot make your choices for you. However, all I ask is that you examine your actions and see if there is a better way. Perhaps a way that is not so destructive."
"This is what Mokuba wants."
"Has he told you that?"
"In no uncertain terms."
"What do you want?"
What a stupid question. He wanted Kisa. "This is not about me. It should never have been about me. Mokuba is the important one."
"Do you say that because you no longer see value in yourself?"
Of course, he didn't.
"I'm not here to debate my actions with you, Dr. Angevin."
"Then why are you here?"
He wanted someone to tell him he was wrong, to give him another way, to make everything that happened yesterday disappear. He wanted it all to have been just another nightmare.
He wanted to wake up.
November passed cold and bleak. Kisa hadn't shown up that Monday morning after. Instead, someone else arrived to take her place. An older woman, competent enough, but not Kisa. Seto kept himself busy. The final touches were being put on the plans for the displays for the Hoffmann Project. A professional translator service had to be contracted to finish the work that Kisa had started and when Hoffmann inquired about her absence Seto answered that she had 'moved on' to other things.
"Shame," Hoffmann said over the phone one evening. "You two seemed quite happy."
That was the last thing Seto wanted to hear.
Mrs. Shiratori was back to work on Monday, December third. She met him in his office, as according to her old routine, with coffee and that day's report and schedule. Though the air in the office was different, had been for weeks. Despite the winter sun shining outside, the office felt dull, cold, lifeless. It matched the emptiness that had settled in Seto's chest. He'd moved through that last month on autopilot. He didn't know if his heart was still beating.
"I saw the articles." Mrs. Shiratori said once her report was done. "What happened?"
"That's none of your concern. Everything is being sufficiently handled."
"But that girl-"
"-is better off without me." It physically hurt to say. "She would be better off finding someone who has the time to spend with her. I do not. After Mokuba's little joyride he requires my full attention."
Mrs. Shiratori didn't look convinced, but Seto refused to answer any more questions on the subject.
Of course, that was, if Mokuba allowed him any attention. They ate their breakfast quietly, save for the scraping of forks and knives against delicate china. The rides to Mokuba's school were silent, neither occupant inclined to break it.
That was fine. As far as Seto was concerned, there'd been nothing else to say. He informed Mokuba after school on that first Monday that he was grounded for the foreseeable future. He'd no longer be allowed to go out with his friends and his travel to and from school or from his games would be handled by either Seto himself or their security. There'd been another argument, another slew of curses and accusations. Seto took them all in stride, polished off his dissociative skills, and stood there, taking the brunt of the assault with the look of someone who had long since known everything that was being said. In the end, Mokuba stormed out, perhaps frustrated by Seto's silence, perhaps too angry to make coherent sense anymore.
When the box arrived from Aunt Moriko, Mokuba snatched it up and ran off with it. That was fine too. Seto wasn't worthy of those precious artifacts anymore. Their mother and father, he couldn't help but wonder what they thought of him and what he'd done. No doubt they were disappointed, perhaps even resentful of his actions.
That was fine. He hadn't been worthy of their pride in the first place.
December crawled by. Every day felt longer than the last. As the night of Kisa's debut appearance inched closer, more and more articles were found tucked between the letters in his inbox.
'Seto Kaiba's Ex Set for Worldwide Debut Friday, December Twenty-First'
'Seto Kaiba's Ex Refuses to Give Comment'
'Estimated Sell Out for Fifth Annual Children's Core Charity Concert Amid Controversy After Black Mesa Lead Singer's Affair with Renown Businessman Seto Kaiba.'
Seto crumpled each one and threw them in the trash. She had a name. Why did these vultures have to focus so hard on her connection to him instead of acknowledging her achievements? She was worth more than that.
The twenty-first came with little fanfare. Seto dropped Mokuba off for his last day of school before winter break, like always. He picked up his prescription of sleep medication for the next month, like usual. He sat at his desk while Mrs. Shiratori ran him through that day's itinerary, like she did every day. Near the end, however, she stopped, bit her lip, and looked up from the clipboard.
"Also…" she said, "Miss Miyoshi placed her concert appearance on your schedule before she left."
Seto didn't miss a beat. "Delete it. I will not be attending."
Mrs. Shiratori was quiet for a long time, so long that Seto thought she had left and he hadn't noticed. Then the clipboard landed on his desk with a deafening SMACK and Seto nearly jumped out of his skin. Mrs. Shiratori still stood there, hands on her hips, mouth tight and eyes narrowed.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Mrs. Shiratori-"
"That girl was the best thing that ever happened to you. What the hell are you thinking, letting her go like that?"
"I don't need you to tell me that. What she was to me is done. It's over. Now get back to your desk and do your job."
For a moment, it looked as if Mrs. Shiratori would argue. She picked up her clipboard and stormed out of his office. Seto slouched back in his chair, rubbing his forehead. The sooner the day was over, the sooner he could go back to forgetting that Kisa Miyoshi ever existed.
The day continued in relative peace after that. There was the occasional phone call, reporters vying for his statement regarding Kisa and his thoughts on her coming performance. Seto refused them all.
A little more than three hours before Kisa was set to go on stage, there was a racket in the hall.
"Where is he!?"
"Miss, you can't just go in there."
"I don't care if he's taking a shit. I'll kill him!"
The office door slammed open with so much force that it bounced off the wall. Takako Murdoch stood there, all but shaking with rage. She looked no different from when Seto had last seen her, though there was a loathing in her eyes that could have cut through glass. She rushed toward him. Seto had only enough time to stand before she was around his desk and throwing her fist into his jaw. He tasted blood.
He fell back, spine hitting the arm of his chair and sending it sliding across the room. He thought he heard Mrs. Shiratori scream. Next moment Murdoch was on him, one hand bunched in his collar, forcing him up while the other laid another punch to his cheek.
"You fucking bastard! I should've known." Both her hands grabbed his collar, forced him to look at her, their faces inches apart. "You know what I've been doing for the last three days? I've been cleaning up your fucking mess. If Kisa botches this up tonight, it's on your head cause all she's been able to do for five fucking weeks is cry." She clenched her teeth. "I should kill you right now and save you the trouble of living with what I'm about to do to you. When I'm done with you, you ain't gonna know your own fucking name you… you…"
Her voice died away as she stared into his face. He didn't know what she saw. Perhaps his pain, his emptiness, his despair knowing that Kisa had been just as lost without him.
Seto's voice carried the flat emptiness of death. "I wish you would. If killing me would bring her peace, then just do it."
His collar slipped from her fingers.
There was the sound of stampeding feet in the hall and a second later half a dozen black-suited security guards exploded into the room. Murdoch was hauled up by her elbows and was dragged, kicking and spitting, towards the door.
"Let her go."
Everything stopped. All eyes turned to look at Seto as he climbed unsteadily to his feet.
"But…" one of them said, "Mr. Kaiba, she-"
"I know what she did. I said 'let her go'."
They did as they were told, though it took a withering look from their boss before the security guards were willing to leave. Seto went to get his chair, well aware of Murdoch standing in the doorway, watching his slow movements and how his head seemed to hang, the loosened strands of his hair falling into his eyes.
"You're an idiot," she said.
He nodded as he put his chair back into its proper place. "Was there anything else, or are you still planning to carry through with your intention to kill me?"
"Kinda pointless, isn't it? You're already dead."
His hands clutched the back of his chair for dear life, determined to not fall again with her still standing there.
Murdoch turned back to the hall. She seemed to lock eyes with Mrs. Shiratori, then her shoulders stiffened. She turned just enough to speak over her shoulder. "Kisa's leaving with us after the show. She's going back to Germany. Said she can't stay here with you so close by."
Another slice of pain ripped through him. "Why are you telling me this?"
Murdoch didn't answer. She left the office and he watched through the open door as she climbed into the elevator and disappeared.
Mrs. Shiratori peeked around the corner. "Are you alright?"
Seto wanted to say 'yes', to tell her to get back to work, but that was when his legs gave out. The chair banged against the desk. He leaned back against the window, feeling the cold glass through his shirt, against the back of his head. He rubbed his face, trying to ease the sting, as he slid down the window to sit on the floor. The inside of his cheek had stopped bleeding, but it felt torn when he rubbed his tongue against it. No doubt the whole side of his face would be bruised in the morning.
Mrs. Shiratori rounded the desk. "Mr. Kaiba?"
Seto gave a sad, half-hearted, chuckle. "I deserved that." He leaned his head back. "I wish she'd killed me. Is that wrong?"
She knelt next to him, eyes full of maternal worry. "It's not too late, you know?"
"Isn't it? Mokuba can't stand to look at me. Kisa is-" His throat tightened. "If it would make Mokuba happier that she was not around, then that's for the best."
"Have you asked?"
"He made it obvious that-"
"Does he know that you love her?"
"That's-"
"Mr. Kaiba, from one love besotted human being to another, please, for the love of all that is holy, talk to him. Then, for your own sake, talk to her." The intensity in her eyes softened. "Love is hard, I know. Sometimes I feel like I'm not worth all the devotion that Sota gives me, but when you find that one person who makes you feel like you're worth something, you can't just let it go. I've heard the saying that if you love someone you should let them go, but that's complete bullshit."
Seto straightened, brows creasing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Mrs. Shiratori curse.
"If you find someone who thinks the world of you," she continued, "someone who makes you feel whole, you have to hold onto that. That feeling, that's something money can't buy."
Seto looked down at his hands, flexed his fingers. The sharp point of his fear prodded at his heart. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath.
"What do I do?"
"Start with Mokuba, then get your butt over to the stadium and stop her from leaving, no matter what. I'll stay here and close up the office for you." Mrs. Shiratori got to her feet and started toward the door.
Seto pushed himself up to watch her leave. "Tomoko."
She stopped in the doorway, turned wide shocked eyes on him.
"I…" He had to force out the words. "Thank you."
Tomoko smiled. "You can thank me by making sure the next dozen or so pictures of you I see are with her. I need better material to gossip with my girlfriends about."