Book I | A Wandering Maze
Duelist Kingdom Arc
Part IV
Seto Kaiba: 18 years old
Kisara Pegasus: 16 years old
…
A splash resonated far beneath him, in the water. It was hardly more than an echo on his ear. The pilot of his helicopter had been flying him in the wrong direction. Kaiba only noticed it because of the position of the moon. So, after a brief struggle, Seto Kaiba compelled the man from the helicopter and into the open ocean. He did not know or care if the fall killed him. And there was no land around for miles.
Hours passed.
Kaiba stared at the blinking lights on his horizon – unblinking. When had he last slept? He could hardly remember. He swallowed. That's right… food… He'd almost forgotten the taste of it by now. No matter. All that mattered was that dark silhouette of an island now looming against the dark sky. The helicopter's noise was like a muffled rumble against his headphones.
Duelist Kingdom. He was almost there. An hour at most… An hour… and he would be on the same plot of earth as his little brother…
I can't believe all of my business associates would turn on me after a single defeat. That was a lie. Those men were like hyenas. Weak. But hungry. They had been waiting all of this time since he'd taken over the company… waiting for him to make a mistake. And they had pounced. Then again, losing to Yugi has shaken my self-confidence too.It was a grudging acknowledgment, but one Kaiba had to make. The loss had unnerved him. Shaken him. Caused him to make rash and stupid decisions, such as leave the company for a retreat in the first place – just after defeat too. The loss had sent him in a nie-comatose state. Hardly a good image. The loss had caused him to sideline Mokuba.
Kaiba narrowed his eyes, thinking back to that last duel which he'd monitored from the secret computer lab beneath his mansion. He still didn't understand it. How had that dragon been banished? The virus clearly hadn't been fast enough. But someone else had been. …How? Maybe Yugi was right about putting heart into the game…
A pair of blue eyes with white lashes batted before his already exhausted vision. Kaiba shook his head to clear his mind …but I can't start second guessing myself now. His grip tightening on the joystick. Not when Pegasus has kidnapped my little brother. …No. If I'm gonna face off against Pegasus I have to rely on my old dueling instincts.
He exhaled, widening his eyes, and swallowed again. He was almost there. The dark mound rising out of the ocean was getting larger with every passing second. Now… he could even distinguish the outline of turrets. The castle. Where he lived. Yes, Kaiba had to stick to his old methods. That's the only chance I have of freeing Mokuba. He inhaled slowly. Almost there… and then… And once Mokuba is out of harm's way, I'll unleash my wrath on the vultures who conspired to take over my company. A twisted smile curled his thin lip just at the thought. Oh, he was going to enjoy that part. If Pegasus thought I would just sit idly by as they dismantled my life's work, he was wrong.
Half an hour now. At most. I'll see to it that they all regret ever crossing Seto Kaiba.
…
The sound of the cane echoed loudly on the stone floor. The firelight of occasional torches threw her shadow on rugged stone, disfiguring it into so many monsters. Kisara didn't worry however. She knew these dungeon passages. She'd played in them often when she was younger. Had explored them. She knew where there were cameras, and where there weren't. She had always had fun down here… had never related these passages to darkness, torture, or death… After all, she had never once dreamed that this place had actually been used for anything other than an elaborate backdrop for the suits of armor that haunted the halls.
Sometimes they'd even had Halloween parties down here.
How long ago had the Pegasus family moved this castle, stone by stone, up from the landscapes of England and over to this little island on the coast of California? At the turn of the previous century. At least. So… at least one hundred years where Kisara had been certain that the place remained unoccupied. It had left Europe before either of the World Wars ravaged the European continent, so nothing had been done here then…
Kisara had always been convinced, without really thinking about it, that the dungeons below the castle of Duelist Kingdom had remained vacant since at least the 15th century.
She stopped. The echoing of the cane stopped. The water, dripping from the walls one droplet at a time, continued. Now, however… staring at the thoroughly modern bars on the cell in front of her, Kisara recognized just how wrong she had been all these years. She inhaled shakily. And felt a pain shoot down her spine. It had taken little enough observation to realize at what time the guards liked to sneak off duty to catch the game on the television.
Kisara winced, and shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she peered into the depths of the cell she'd come face to face with. There, in the darkness… lay Mokuba.
How different he looked now from that proud, obstinate little fellow in that tower not many days before. She could hardly see him in this light… a broken small figure. Like a toy thrown violently against the wall, and forgotten there. Attached to his feet were two great manacles. Ball and chain. She was almost surprised that his skinny legs were not small enough to slip through them.
My father did this.
Her breath seemed loud in this stale air. As did her footsteps. The pain in her side was getting worse. It was probably due to the dampness. When all of this stopped she was going to have to take a lie down. Kisara leaned into the bars, resting herself on them, her head nestled between them.
For a moment she didn't say a word. She merely stood, leaning her weight on her cane, and observed. This is all my fault. If I hadn't encouraged him to escape… if I hadn't given him the map by which he eluded his captors for so long… he might still be in the relative comfort of the North Tower… but this…When Kisara found out that Mokuba had been taken here, she scarcely believed it. She shuddered.
Kisara once stood just like this, at the gate of an orphanage, six years before. "Hey."
Mokuba's form flinched in the darkness. Chains clanked. Then, he raised his head, and met her eyes.
"…you," he rasped.
Kisara took a steadying breath. "Yeah…me." There was silence for a moment. Then Kisara, as gingerly as she could, bent herself into a crouch, her cane scraping the ground as she slowly lay it down beside her. "I brought you something," she said, lifting the lunchbox which she'd been holding in her other hand.
He blinked at her slowly. "…what is it?" As he looked up at her his head thumped against the rock wall behind him. If his hair had been a mess when she last saw him, it was nothing to the state it was in now. And his cheeks looked so hollow.
She smiled weakly. "Dinner."
The water dripped off the walls. "Ms. Pegasus… you're not supposed to be here, are you?"
"Yes, well, neither are you," she answered.
He looked up at her and, through the mud and misery caked on his face, gave her the smallest of smiles. It broke her heart.
She offered the lunchbox through the bars. "I got some clementine, a few cheese-sticks, a sausage and an apple juice box," she whispered.
His smile was somewhat more successful than hers. "You're an angel, Ms. Pegasus."
Now she managed her own wry smile. "Kisara. And hardly. Should I throw this to you or…?"
"I'll come to you," he said, heaving himself onto his feet.
Kisara tried to lean further in through the bars. She felt a sharp pain shoot up her side. "Ungh," her arm wavered.
"Are you okay?" His chains rattled as Mokuba forced against the weights to take a step forward. He reached for the lunchbox, and Kisara stretched for it to reach his outstretched hands, grateful to relieve herself of even so slight a load.
"Fine," she replied curtly. There was an almost childlike silence between them in the next moment as Mokuba zipped the lunchbox open. He, excited to see what he had gotten. She, excited to see if he liked it.
"…you also brought me chocolate."
"Oh… yeah. Forgot about that." She smiled.
The dungeon was filled with quiet sniffling. Mokuba's head was bent and his shoulders shaking. The tears dripped off his nose into the lunchbox.
"Oh Mokuba…" She leaned in as far through the bars as she could. She could not reach him. Her fingers grasped at cold air. Weak. Useless. "I am so sorry. If I had known… I could never have thought they would put you… I should never have helped you…"
"No." Mokuba's head shot up. "No….no. Thank you. No one's… I haven't eaten chocolate since I was really little." Kisara could remember – remember as if it were only yesterday – how she smiled just like that, with that very same broken smile, at this very boy's older brother.
She looked down at the floor. "Well…It looks like I'll have to think of another way to get you out of here. But this is the lowest dungeon in the castle, so this is pretty much as bad as it can get, in case I mess up again."
Mokuba snorted, setting the lunchbox down on the ground next to him, though only after fishing out three chocolates. "That's reassuring." He was already regaining some of his snark. "Be careful with that help."
The irony. "Oh…" how that sad little smile could once more pull at her mouth. "I'll do my best." I shouldn't even be trying to help you at all, frankly. From the little I can remember of my past, I have damned everything I ever touched and cared for. I… A spasm of pain rattled through her chest. I'm quite the curse of a monster, actually.
Her eyes glinted in the darkness.
…
He knew that she couldn't have left him a blanket. If it was found out, then she would be found out, and there would be no more lunch boxes for him. So, in the cold dungeon, he slept without a blanket. And yet, because of how wonderful dinner had been, and how nice Kisara Pegasus had been, Mokuba drifted off to sleep with more ease than he had in weeks.
As he dozed, a dream which had not come to him in years washed over him. He was a little boy again, in his bedroom at the Kaiba Mansion. And he was drawing a Blue-Eyes White Dragon card for Seto. Sure, it was nothing like the authentic card, but Seto had been so unhappy recently. Of course, he wouldn't let anyone see. He hid it completely. But Mokuba could tell. So, he was drawing this card to make him feel better! He knew just how much Seto wanted this card. And, Mokuba thought that, if he drew one, it would help Seto always remember his dream of having a real Blue-Eyes someday. He grinned down at the paper, choosing one crayon over another. He would make it the absolute best card that he could! In fact, Mokuba thought, it was looking so fantastic that it was almost as though the paper itself was shining, and the dragon would fly off the page.
A roar rocked through the dream.
Mokuba sat back in awe as light flooded the room and suddenly, there it was– the Blue-Eyes White Dragon in all its mighty glory. It looked down upon the little boy, stretched out its neck, flexed its great wings and once more roared out its presence. Mokuba smiled. Oh, he loved this dream.
He pushed himself up off ground and scrambled over to the great beast. It, in turn, shifted its mighty weight to ease closer to the ground and allow the little boy to hoist himself between its shoulder blades.
"Wooah!" Mokuba's entire body pitched as the dragon lurched beneath him back onto its hind legs. He rocked forward and grabbed a hand onto one of the scales protruding from its shoulders. A thrill of excitement coursed through him. He looked up at the full length windows that lined his room, just as they burst open with a gust of night wind.
The muscles underneath Mokuba grew taught. Another lurch and he and the Blue-Eyes were soaring through the air. The wind whipped through his long hair and Mokuba could have screamed with joy. Instead, he clung onto the dragon's shoulder blades all the more tightly, and let his eyes slide shut.
This was his favorite dream– the dream where the Blue-Eyes White Dragon would appear and take him away from all of his unhappiness! No more step-father. No more dungeon. Only one thing could make this more complete than it already was.
I always secretly dreamed that Seto and his Blue-Eyes would fly me away from any danger, as far as we could go!
At that moment, Mokuba felt a warm weight at his back. He turned in his seat, and there was Seto, right behind him astride the Blue-Eyes. They weren't little children anymore. Mokuba was as he was now. And so was Seto. Only that he was smiling. He was happy. "The Blue-Eyes did it!" Mokuba cried out. "The Blue-Eyes saved us, Seto!"
Seto smiled. "Yes." He looked past Mokuba, to the dragon. "I should never have doubted you."
"No… You shouldn't have."
Mokuba blanched. He knew that voice. He turned back to look ahead of him, and he looked into the dragon's eye. Her sorrowful, pained eye. His mouth went dry. "Kisara?"
The dragon roared out, not in triumph, but in agony. The scales around her waist ripped apart and flew up into Mokuba's face, as though torn by some great force. He was falling and tumbling, and the scales cut into Mokuba's hands and eyes. Then came the sudden crash, darkness, and the sound of a thousand panes of shattering glass.
Mokuba woke in a cold sweat in a colder dungeon cell.
…
This was such a waste of time.
As Kaiba's extraordinary luck would have it, the same patch of grass on which he'd chosen to land his helicopter had been the one on which Yugi Mutou and his friends had made camp. There were perhaps a hundred duelists on this island, all participating in Pegasus's Duelist Kingdom Tournament, but it was this duelist, and his cohort, that Kaiba had to land upon. Literally.
At first, when Yugi detached himself from the rest of his friends and approached him, it was almost cordial. Before Kaiba could hardly say a sentence Yugi was holding out Kaiba's deck, offering it back to him, saying that he'd kept it safe. He thanked Kaiba for helping with the duel against the impostor. As though he needed no confirmation that it had been Kaiba who had helped him. No confirmation that they were on good terms.
Not knowing what else to do, Kaiba reached out a hand, and took the deck. "…Thanks."
And then the bullshit started.
The friendship speeches. The nonsense. Then one of Yugi's friends had gone and grabbed him by the collar. Joey, Yugi had called him. Joey Wheeler, from school. A boy with a mop of blond hair and a very annoying slur to his speech. He grabbed Kaiba's collar in his fists and placed himself between Kaiba and the castle. That was a mistake. Underslept and overanxious, Kaiba did not want this idiot in his face, creasing his coat, and yelling about how they'd all been screwed over my Pegasus. Was that supposed to be a surprise?
"Nice grip," he growled, taking the offender's wrist in his hand. "Let me show you mine." With a twist and a shove, he threw Wheeler to the ground as though he was so much garbage.
Some more bullshit then issued forth, with a few cries of indignation. Wheeler made some loud and very stupid comments about Kaiba's skill as a duelist. And, as Kaiba looked back at him, he saw the perfect guinea pig on whom to try out his new Duel Disk system.
Ten minutes later, the duel was almost over.
"Your Red-Eyes is a powerful dragon," Seto smirked. His Duel Disks had gone off without a hitch. It was satisfying to know that, even in his solitude, after suffering a defeat at the hands of a boy half his height, he could still make such an invention. And then he drew the only card that could make him more satisfied still. He lifted it, relishing the pride of having it back at the tip of his fingertips. "But its ferocity pales in comparison to my beast." He saw Yugi blanch. He knew what was coming.
Kaiba placed the card on the disk, and swung it out into the field. "The legendary Blue-Eyes White Dragon!" A look of absolute fear played across Wheeler's face. Even by the moonlight, Kaiba could see him turn pale. The beast rose between them amidst a shower of sparks and the humming of the circular disk which simulated it. This was the first time that Kaiba had, himself, played the card since his duel with Yugi. It's good to be back, sweetheart. "Blue-Eyes White Dragon," he called out to the creature, "White Lightning Attack, now!"
…
Kisara, sleeping on a couch, jolted awake, her eyes wide open. He's here.
…
The simulation of scent built into the Duel Disk left a pungent aroma of burning flesh in the air.
Joey Wheeler was crushed. Kaiba was leaving. He was done. The Duel Disk was clearly a success. The dweebs were outraged. He almost felt pity for them, and he fixed his eyes on his rival – the boy whose victory over him had begun all of this. "Open your eyes. Even with your prodigious talents Yugi, you'll be defeated like all the others." He took back the Duel Disk that Wheeler had used.
What else was there to say? He was almost out of the clearing and into the woods leading to the castle when Yugi called him back. "Kaiba, we may not agree with each other's methods, but we both understand that Pegasus must be stopped." Kaiba halted, staring straight ahead of him into the underbrush. "I hope you succeed in rescuing your brother," Yugi added more gently.
Kaiba turned and looked him in the face at that. Yugi was sincere. "And I hope you succeed in your ventures," he said frankly. "Let's just hope our paths don't cross again before this is all over." With a final nod he continued on his way, towards his goal. Towards the castle.
Standing on a balcony, looking over the dark forest area of his island and gently swirling a glass of red wine, Pegasus chucked. "I can sense you Kaiba," he whispered, feeling the young man's presence through the power of his eye. "But are you hunting for me, or am I hunting you?" An bloodthirsty smile curled his lips.
On the other side of the great room leading out to the balcony, standing no further than the threshold of the door, Kisara teetered in her pajamas, leaning on her cane, unnoticed, hearing everything. As quietly as she came, she stepped back into the shadows.
…
It was day. And, finally, Kaiba felt like he was making some headway towards Pegasus's castle. He could now count the number of windows panning along the wall he faced. I've got to be on my guard. His goons are everywhere. He cast his eyes around, continuing at his brisk pace. But they won't stop me. Nothing will. He reached up the hand not holding his briefcase with his precious Duel Disks, and clicked open the locket with contained Mokuba's photograph from when they were children. From the orphanage.
He still remembered the day that Mokuba carefully folded that photograph in two, tore it along the seam, and placed each of the halves into a separate locket. He remembered how Mokuba carefully placed Seto's locket around his neck himself.
Mokuba's life's at stake. And nothing's more important than my little brother.His grip tightened around the locket.After our parents died, I promised I'd always take care of him. And I will. He's always looked up to me…Even if he had been the only one.And I won't disappoint him. Not now. Not ever.
"So," a voice from Kaiba's periphery drew his attention. "It's Seto Kaiba, searching for your little brother no doubt. It's been a long time, Mr. Kaiba." Kemo, his old bodyguard, stepped out from behind a tree, holding a gun. So, he too betrayed him in Seto's absence. Who was he working for now? Pegasus? The board of directors? Here were new questions.
And yet, all Kaiba could think as Kemo pointed that gun at his face was how stupid that hair had always looked and always would look.
All the same, Kaiba froze. Kemo's feet made the only sound as he stepped through the brambles, closing the short distance between them. The air was filled with the crack of branches and the rustle of leaves. Kaiba's focus went from the forest undergrowth to the gun. The metal now pressed against his skin was cold. "It's too bad we had to meet again under circumstances like this," the man said with unconcealable relish.
Mutely, mechanically, Kaiba let the locket slip back through his fingers, and put his hands up.
"I'm going to take you to Mr. Pegasus now," Kemo said quietly, threateningly.
Kaiba could hardly have helped the self-assured smirk that hooked itself onto his upper lip. "And you really think I'll just go with you?"
"If you refuse, I'll have to use force," Kemo answered, agitated with the lack of a rise he was getting out of the young CEO.
And wouldn't that just break your little heart. "Why don't you just try it." Kaiba's jaw set. He knew what was coming. It wasn't difficult to predict the actions of a lumbering oaf.
"Tish. Die then."Kimo's finger twitched to pull the trigger and blow Seto Kaiba's brains out on the forest path.
Seto would hardly have been the reigning Champion of Duel Monsters for as long as he had without picking up a few card tricks. With one flick of the wrist he sent a card that had been previously hidden – quite literally up his sleeve – soaring through the air to stop the gun's cocking mechanism. The gun jammed. In a flash Kaiba grabbed Kemo's hand and, as he'd done with Wheeler, twisted it in his vice-grip. The gun clattered to the forest floor, and Kaiba felt a satisfying crunch beneath his fingers. He was just able to see, and appreciate the coincidence, that the card that had saved his life was The Goddess of Reversal.
He shoved Kemo forward. The latter stumbled, clutching at his injured hand. Kaiba causally leaned over and swiped up the gun, his card still quivering in its lock. "Well, scum, looks like you just made me damage one of my rarer cards. And here I thought I was going to go easy on you."
Kemo was no threat anymore. Whatever semblance of rational thought he'd had – and there had been very little of it – he now lost completely. In a blind fury Kemo balled his good hand into a fist. "You're coming with me!" In a stupid, animal-like rage, he charged. It was almost boring.
Kaiba dropped down and elbowed him in the stomach. Then, though Kemo was certainly the larger of the two men, he threw him to the ground. Boring. And stupid. And a waste of time. And Kaiba had no time to waste. "Actually," he whispered, "you're coming with me." He walked over to where Kemo was struggling to get up, took him by the collar, and pulled him into a standing position.
He twisted the ex-bodyguard's arm behind his back and relished the grunt of pain that emanated from him. He forcefully angled Kemo's face up to look to the pile of rock and mortar where his new master now lived. Where they had Kaiba's little brother. "You're gonna help me find Mokuba, wherever Pegasus has him," Kaiba whispered, now turning the man's own gun against him. "And you're going to start," he nodded, his eyes fixed at the point above the tree line, "by getting me into that castle."
…
"You were the dragon."
The slow tap of the cane as it approached his cell stopped. Mokuba, however, kept his eyes fixed on the shadows where he knew she stood. He did not know how he was so certain, and it was quite possible that he was going crazy. That was what he had told himself for the last many hours of darkness.
And then he heard the sound of her cane stop. And he knew he had been right.
Finally, after a long moment, she stepped into the light. White hair. Blue eyes. He should have seen it before. And he knew that the awe in her eyes must be mirrored that in his. Then, in a whisper, she confirmed to Mokuba Kaiba what Kisara hardly dared confirm to herself. "…I was the dragon."
Mokuba's throat seized up.
"…How did you know?"
"I saw it. You were there. In my dreams." Mokuba now examined her with nie-disbelief. Here she was. His hero, standing before him, leaning on a cane with one hand and carrying a morning-lunchbox in another.
Her mouth twitched. "Oh.Dreams." She hobbled the rest of the distance to the cell and stretched out the lunchbox to him. He took it, emptied it on the ground, and zipped it shut again.
"Well …I told you before that the opportunity to repay the favor your brother did me never arose." She swallowed. Would Mokuba think she was mad? Did it really matter now? They were standing, two children, in a dungeon at the heart of a lonely island where her father was king. Everything here was mad. "Well… not entirely. You see, I held deep… affection for your brother once." She looked up to see Mokuba's stumped expression. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but take on faith for now that I had reason enough, and emotion enough behind the feeling. And… after I met him, six years ago, for some time after, I could think of little but him. I would fall asleep here, in this great new house of mine," she looked about at the moist stone walls, illuminated by torches of fire, "and think about the two of you, and wonder how you were. He had looked so miserable when we met… I worried about him. I wanted to help him. I thought I could help him. And in… dreams, I did." She smiled. "I soared above the clouds. I found you in whatever unhappy states you were in. And I flew with you through the sky. Sometimes, as sleep overtook me… I could almost hear you calling. And I… I must sound like an absolute, deranged, pathetic girl right now." She concluded lamely, not daring to look Mokuba in the eye.
Mokuba could do nothing but stare. In all those dreams, where he had stared up at the Blue-Eyes, pretending that there might be someone else in this world who cared, he had never even thought, even with his imagination, that the Blue-Eyes might be staring back.
And then it hit him. "You still are the dragon."
Her head snapped back to look at him. "Why do you say that? It was a dream."
Mokuba looked to her cane. To her waist. And then back into her eyes. "…Show me."
There was a moment of silence between them. "…Aren't you the clever one." Stiffly, shifting her weight, Kisara shrugged off one shoulder of her blue cardigan and pulled down gingerly on the burlap dress. Just enough to show the hospital brace.
Mokuba blinked at it, his fears confirmed. "Oh my g…" he finally whispered. "How big is the…"
"From one hip, across the other shoulder, and down the back. It was a full body friction-burn to the soul."
"Will it ever heal?"
By the look on her face it was clear that it was an issue she had not dared to think on. "…I don't know. I hope so." Kisara smiled at him brokenly. All Mokuba could do was stare back in awe, in wonder, and in horror. She looked at her watch. "I should go. They guard will be back in another minute. And I–"
Mokuba reached out his hand to her. She reached for him. The chains clanked. They could not reach one another. "I'd break you out, but the alarm would go off, and we know how well that worked last time, and I am so sorry for my father–"
"I'm sorry. For my brother."
They stood there, two children, reaching for one another, both caught in something so much bigger than themselves.
"I'll be back. Better pass that lunchbox to me, unless you want to sit on it to hide it."
"Brilliant."
She smiled, took the box… and Mokuba watched as the mighty Blue-Eyes limped off into the darkness.
…
Holding Kemo at gunpoint, Seto followed his unwillingly-recruited guide to a door discreetly hidden at the base of the castle. Without a word Kemo entered a numbered password and the door slid open. Kaiba wasn't an idiot. He knew that, the moment he was able, Kemo would turn on him. He knew that he was walking into the lion's den with nothing to protect him. He knew that he had nothing but enemies in this mound of stone.
A girl, dutifully holding onto Pegasus's arm at a gala, once again flashed before Kaiba's eyes. His grip on the gun tightened.
Kaiba stepped into the castle after Kemo. There, standing before him, as though he had expected nothing different from what he saw, was Pegasus's right-hand man, and Chief of Security. If he had been guarding the door and awaiting Kemo's return, and if the last thing he expected to see was Seto Kaiba, he did not let on.
Kaiba didn't know his name. But, then again, he didn't need to know his name to shoot him. The man made a sweeping gesture with his arm, allowing Kemo and Kaiba to walk past him. "Why hello, Mr. Kaiba," he said. He had a voice like sandpaper. "What a pleasant surprise. Are you here to see Master Pegasus?" Kaiba hated that he couldn't see the man's eyes behind those dark glasses. Why was he even wearing dark glasses inside. "Well, unfortunately, only those with ten star-chips are permitted to meet Mr. Pegasus. Even you, Mr. Kaiba, are no exception. Now, if you don't mind, there is a room for you in the annex…"
That's right. His name was Croquet. Kaiba remembered. What a different greeting this was from the one he'd gotten a year before at the International Duel Monsters Tournament. It was almost laughable. No. Not laughable. What was laughable was that all of these morons he'd met thus far on the island were all playing some game. Star-chips. Winning a tournament. Meeting the boss. What was laughable was that any of them – Yugi, Wheeler, Kemo, Croquet – they still thought he was kidding around.
Kaiba slammed his bulletproof briefcase into Croquet's jaw. Blood splattered everywhere.
"Mr. Croquet!" Kemo flinched at the sickening crack that ripped through the air. "Kaiba, you–" He balled his good hand into a fist again, as though to attack.
Methodically, Kaiba put the briefcase down. Then, before Croquet could even hit the ground Kaiba snatched him by the front of his jacket and held him, like a cat that caught a bird in mid-air. He pressed the gun to his temple. Croquet's glasses had been knocked off. Kaiba could now see fear in his eyes. He rather liked it.
"Careful, Kemo," he whispered in the silence. "It's because of KaibaCorp's special employee training that you even know how to hold a weapon. Did you ever finish the course?" He smiled down at Croquet. "Watch… I'll teach you how to fire a gun right now…" He pressed the gun more firmly down into his victim's face.
"S-stop! Kemo!" The man almost gagged on the blood issuing from his mouth. "Stand down! Look at his eyes. He's serious." Sweat mixed with blood on the middle aged man's face. And this was all that Pegasus had? Ridiculous.
After a moment's hesitation, Kemo lowered his fists begrudgingly. Kaiba smirked, disarmed Croquet and aimed his now two guns at the two men before him. So pathetic. "Carry my briefcase to a guestroom," he nodded at Croquet. "You'll be my hostages until I get what I want."
He knew he was fooling himself with that one. Pegasus would never trade a commodity like Mokuba for these two ingrates, even if one of them was his oldest and most loyal bodyguard. No. Kaiba would have to find another way of getting what he wanted. But that was alright. Kaiba often heard that he had a very persuasive personality.
…
Kaiba sat back in an ornate armchair. There was one small sane part of him that wanted to simply pause everything and ask what the hell am I doing? How do I think this is going to come out well for me? But he was winging it now. And there was no going back. There, against the wall, was Kemo, whom Kaiba had pinned down with the barrel of the gun. And there, on the floor, with his arms tied behind his back – Kemo was such an obliging man – was Croquet, his head pinned down between the top and bottom of Kaiba's indestructible briefcase. And Kaiba's foot was on the lid of that briefcase, applying pressure.
Now that he reconsidered the situation, things could have been worse.
"Curse you, Seto Kaiba," Kemo hissed across the room. Ouch. That one would hurt for a while.
Kaiba raised an eyebrow. Maybe he should try and get up. Rise to the insult. He placed some more weight on his foot.
"H-Help," Croquet wheezed, his entire body flinching at the mere motion of the briefcase's lid.
Yes. Things could have been a lot worse. If he was honest, Seto rather liked this arrangement.
"Kaiba! Let him go!" Kemo whispered. He had moved from curses to demands. Someone should make this man head of national diplomacy.
Kaiba smiled. They didn't think he was joking now. That was a start at least. "I know you cowards have taken Mokuba prisoner." Kaiba uttered the first words he'd said in a while. "Are you still going to deny it, even with your lives at stake?"
"I– I don't know… I– I'm telling you the truth," Croquet whispered out, splattering blood with every word. A loyal dog it seemed.
"I already took all my important cards out of that briefcase, and there's a protected compartment for the Duel Disks, you know… If you insist on continuing with this deception, your blood will be easy enough to wash off…" He saw Croquet's eyes widen in horror. No? No words? Kaiba again stepped on the lid of the case, compressing Croquet's head. Hard.
Croquet opened his mouth in a silent scream of pain.
"That will be quite enough," a voice with the tone of a reed pipe went through the room, and commanded total attention.
Kaiba looked up. There, standing at the open door that he was sure he had locked, was Kisara. White hair awry, exhausted blue eyes, leaning her full weight on a cane, she stood before him. He stared into her face. Two unbidden thoughts rose to the forefront of his mind. She was gorgeous. And she looked terrible.
Kisara closed the door behind her, balancing gingerly on her cane as she moved. This was not the same girl who had stood before him one year before at the gala, holding a glass of sparkling water. She was wearing a dark blue knitted cardigan that hung over a loose burlap dress. His eyes traveled along the arm resting on her cane, to her other arm gingerly resting across her waist. Had she been in some sort of accident?
…Had Pegasus done something to her as well?
For a moment, he saw red. His foot twitched, as he almost made to get up and go to her. Croquet hissed in pain. Kisara, whose eyes had been equally riveted to Kaiba, looked to the captive man. Without a word, she crossed the room. Her cane let of a muffled 'clunk' 'clunk' 'clunk' on the carpet. Finally, she was standing right in front of Kaiba. He remained seated.
Six years ago, as children, they had stood face to face for the first time. Many words were spoken. Most of them abandoned. One year ago, again, they had stood face to face with one another. No words were spoken. And he had fled the scene. Now, once more, they stood face to face. What words would she use now?
He watched how she bent herself and wrapped a hand around Croquet's arm. She winced with the bending. It hurt her. Then, her hand fastened, she looked back up into Kaiba's eyes. That look… it brooked no argument.
Kaiba lifted his foot, and uncrossed his legs.
He watched as, riddled by pain, she used her cane to help Croquet back to his feet. He let out a weak whisper of "Ms. Kisara." The man had an open gash on his chin, and a deep purple bruise was pluming around his eye. Kaiba looked from him, to Kisara. Her face was blank.
And it made Kaiba's stomach curled with something he would not acknowledge as shame. Her face was blank. She showed no emotion. No reaction. And that was why he knew… she was horrified. After all, it was the very face he set to horror.
"I'd keep that gun pointed on Kemo, if I were you."
Her mild, almost conversational tone snapped his attention back to the here and now. He looked across the room at Kemo, whom he had nearly forgotten. The man had been trying to edge out of the room unnoticed. Kaiba snarled, and fixed the gun back onto his chest. Kemo stilled.
Kisara undid the cord that bound Croquet's hands together. Then, she took out a handkerchief from the pocket of her cardigan and dabbed at his face, not sparing Kaiba a second glance. "If you were going to interrogate anyone you should have done so to Kemo." It was almost a casual reprimand, as though he had walked out of the house in the wrong tie. "He would have broken in minutes."
Now, atop Kaiba's shame, Kisara also made him feel stupid. He swallowed.
"You haven't addressed a word to me in over six years," she finally said, smiling up at Croquet reassuringly. Most of the blood was been mopped up. The suit, however, was ruined. Kisara re-pocketed her handkerchief. "Don't you think I'm overdue for a hello?"
She turned and, with a weak smile, looked back to Kaiba. It was not the gentle, unguarded smile she had given him six years ago. Or even one.
Something was wrong. She wasn't just injured. Now, as he sat only feet away from her, he saw her skin was a sickly, paste-like texture. The bags under her eyes were alarming. It was almost as if… almost as if she had been infected by something. His stomach churned, and he pushed the absurd thought that had crept into his mind back out again.
Kaiba's jaw set and his eyes narrow. She was the daughter of his enemy. "Hello, Ms. Pegasus," he sneered. It was almost as though, to the canvas of that blank expression on her face, he heard something crack inside of her. Inside of both of them. And yet… he could not stop. "So, did your daddy send you to negotiate? Couldn't come himself? How has it been, having my little brother here as prisoner? Did you enjoy having a little hostage playmate?"
Kisara's lips parted, and Seto realized that he was terrified of what she would say. Terrified of how she would answer. He… was terrified of her. However, he never would know what Kisara would have said, because at that moment an alarm shook through the entire castle and to their very cores. Kemo had not been trying to get to the door. He had been trying to get to one of the small, decorative tables, each of which held three or four ornate jewelry boxes. Except for the one that Kemo had opened. That one held a button.
Kaiba aimed his gun. He was going to kill him right here on this Turkish rug.
"No," Kisara grabbed his arm, yelling over the alarm. "We have to go. Now! Follow me!"
Kaiba looked at Kemo, look at her, and looked back at Kemo. His lowered his arm, and shot the man in the foot. "I do not want him following us!" Kaiba yelled over the alarm in response to Kisara's indignant expression. It seemed like a decent compromise to him at least.
…What the hell was going on?
Everything was noise, and flashing lights, and scraping canes, and shouting guards. They were out in the hallway. Croquet did not follow. Then they were at a tapestry. Then they were in a hidden passage.
It was dark, and dungeon-like, and the halls were endless.
More guards. Kisara grabbed Kaiba and, with very little hesitation, shoved him into the niche behind a suit of armor, quickly following after. They held their breath as the sound of running feet and shouting echoed off the walls. Kaiba tried desperately to ignore how she was entirely pressed against him, or how she clung to him to keep from falling back out into view or tipping the suit of armor over. …Was that a brace that he felt across her waist?
He felt her breath on his neck. He swallowed.
They were off again. On, and on, and on they went, not stopping until the alarm, as suddenly as it had begun, went silent. It wasn't until then, in some dimly lit route of roughly cut stone, that Kaiba realized, somewhere along the way, he had grabbed Kisara's arm and pulled it over his shoulders to help support her weight in their flight. His ears were still ringing.
His hand was resting gingerly on her hip.
"I think," she gasped for air. "I think we lost them…"
Mutely, carefully, he helped her into a sitting position against the wall. Kisara hissed, and allowed her cane to clatter by her side. It was odd. In this moment she reminded him so much of the little wisp of a thing he had seen at the gate all those years before.
She panted, fighting through the pain. "We'll be alright here, for a while," she finally said. "We're well away from anything important. So, no cameras here. I think the only one who knows about this passage is Croquet. I don't even think my father knows. And I doubt he ever cared enough to use his Eye on Croquet to–"
"What happened to you?" Kaiba finally asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since he first saw her. He crouched down next to her.
Kisara continued to breathe heavily. She pressed a hand into her side, her face contorted. They were alone now. Even at the gate they had not been entirely alone. But they were alone now, in this semi-darkness, with mere inches between them. She took a final, steadying breath. Brushing her hair out of her face – all but one obstinate strand – she looked up at him. "Seto…" she finally whispered. The use of his name sent a shiver run down his spine. "If you could ask one question, and only one question, what would it be?"
She smiled bitterly at him, and he knew that she knew the question.
He swallowed. "Will you take me to Mokuba?"
After all, this was not about the two of them. It never had been.
…
"This is where I leave you," Kisara said abruptly, a few steps behind Kaiba. He turned to look at her. She nodded in the direction they had been going. "Mokuba's cell is just ahead. You'll have to knock out a guard or two, but I somehow doubt that's a problem for you." He nodded. "…I was expecting there to be more security down here, considering the party we threw upstairs." She smiled. "Maybe Croquet decided to do me a good turn after all."
"Why are you leaving?" Kaiba asked. Kisara smiled. The true reason was that she was leaving because of what Mokuba knew of her now. And what he might say in front of his older brother. However, Kisara could see in his face that, by instinct, he wanted to ask if this was some sort of trap. It wasn't. He knew that. Hence, he didn't ask.
Instead, he asked, "Why did you help me?"
She had resolved on answering none of his questions. But that one was just so obvious. She blinked at him. "Because I promised," Kisara answered simply. There. She'd said it. It had been the unaddressed, unspoken event that transpired between them six years ago, and she now gave it a voice.
Kaiba stared at her. Suddenly, he closed the distance between them, and he looked down into her face. At the back of her mind Kisara couldn't help but notice just how tall he'd gotten in the last six years. She continued, in a whisper. "You promised to save me. I promised to save you. That was the pact we struck."
She stayed perfectly still as his eyes ran up and down her form. "From the look of it," he finally answered, "I didn't fulfill my end all too well... It's funny, because I always thought that you were the one who'd forgotten about…" Their eyes met. He swallowed. "Look. Don't take this the wrong way, but it looks like you've been b–"
"–I could say the same for you," she answered with an echo from so many years ago.
They took that moment, for themselves, saying nothing, not touching, not moving. They simply looked into each other's eyes, and feasted on a sight they had each denied themselves for years.
The moment passed. Kaiba nodded. Kisara straightened herself. And then he turned around and continued down the hall, and she turned as well, and went back the way she had come.
The 'clunk' 'clunk 'clunk' echoed into silence.
…
Fire sputtered in large stone jars in this part of the dungeon. It was occupied. Kaiba could see the long shadows of two guards stretching out across the hall. He dropped down on them. One of the men reached for his gun. Two well-placed strikes later, and Pegasus's guards were out cold on the floor. Kaiba picked the large ring of keys off one of their belts.
He saw the bars before he saw the boy. Then, he came into view. There were no words, no actions, for the emotions that contracted Kaiba's stomach. The manacles. The filth. And there… like an abandoned puppet… his little brother. Kaiba stopped and stood before the cell. After a moment his little brother shifted.
"…Kisara, is that you?"
Seto's blinked at the boy in shock. She had been here? She had taken care of him? Seto wanted to speak, but the effort to unstick his throat was monstrous. He took hold of the bars. "Mokuba…" he finally whispered.
Mokuba's head rose hesitantly up as though it was on a string and, through the darkness, Kaiba saw those glazed green eyes widen at the sight of him. "Seto?" And to think, the last time they had seen each other it had been in Seto's office, before all this madness started. The boy staggered to his feet, clutching at the locket around his own neck – the one that contained Seto's photograph. "Seto! It's you."
Seto tried to twitch his mouth into a reassuring smile as relief washed over him. Here was his little brother. And he was about to get him out. "Yeah. It's me." He once promised Mokuba that he would always protect him, and so he would.
After all, a voice echoed bitterly in the back of his head.You are so good at keeping promises.
Mokuba's face lit up with absolute happiness. "Aw, Seto. I always knew you would rescue me," he said, gripping at his locket. "Always."
A knot grew in Seto's throat. "Little brother…"
"So, what now? I bet you have some high-tech plan to get me out of– eh." Mokuba took a few steps forward and reached out his big brother. But again, he reached the limit of his bonds. They clattered loudly.
"Stay still, kiddo," Kaiba shot out, seeing Mokuba stagger.
"Okay. Whatever you say, big brother." There was only joy on the eleven-year-old's face. He was going to be alright. His big brother was here now.
"Just give me one second to open this door."
The keys rattled in the silence. "Seto, where were you?" Mokuba finally whispered.
Kaiba crouched down, trying every key to match the cell door. Why were his hands shaking so much? He swallowed, and rasped, "In a coma." It might as well have been true. It might as well have lasted six months as one week. "I was dead to the world Mokuba. The doctors themselves wouldn't have thought I could recover. Hell, the stock market certainly didn't." There was only one key left to try. Why was it always the last goddamn key.
Slow, loud clapping started up behind Kaiba.
He froze, and shut his eyes for a moment. He did not need to see the look of fear and horror on Mokuba's face to know who it was. He did not even need to turn around. Slowly, very slowly, the key now in the lock, Kaiba straightened up from his crouch, and turned to look into the face of Maximillion Pegasus.
There he was. The man himself, in his obnoxious red suit and ridiculous cravat. Now that he thought about it, Kaiba always had despised men in red suits.
"Well, well. The brother's Kaiba. Reunited at last. Bravo, Kaiba. Bravo. I knew nothing would stop you from getting here," the man said smoothly, pocketing one hand and standing with all the poise in the world, as though he was meeting Kaiba at another gala. Not at the bottom of a castle in a dungeon.
Kaiba's eyes narrowed. "Pegasus."
He smiled jovially at the two boys in front of him. "Though,really Kaiba-boy, if I'd known you were coming, I'd have prepared a better welcome for you," he cooed. The cruelty that shone through his face made it all too clear just what kind of welcome Pegasus had in mind.
"You don't need to worry about me." Kaiba answered curtly. Though really, from where Seto stood, as the anger slowly cooked and boiled within him, he felt that, at this moment, he ought to be Pegasus's greatest worry. Suddenly, all the manners in which he'd fantasized dealing with the creator of Duel Monsters during that long helicopter ride once again resurfaced in Kaiba's mind. I am going to destroy you. Slowly. I am going to enjoy your screams.
Pegasus sighed, not looking too troubled. "Well, yes," he corrected himself. "Kaiba, I knew you'd come for Mokuba… eventually," he tacked on derisively.
Kaiba's fists tightened. His rage built. "Oh, you did?" He was shaking with the venom inside of him. "Well tell me something, Pegasus. Did you also foresee what I'm about to do to you for harming my little brother?"
The older man smirked, surveying the scene. Chillingly. Self certainly. "Actually, Kaiba, I predict you won't lay a finger on me."
"And why is that?"
The eye which Kaiba could see once more fixed on him. Suddenly, behind that shoulder length silver hair, and in the place where his other eye should have been, something flashed gold.
The fire sputtered in its stone basins.
Kaiba lost what remained of his patience and clarity. "You conniving snake. I should take you down right now for what you've done to Mokuba." Kaiba's teeth set. He was done. He could do it now. They were alone here now. The guards were still out cold. It was too perfect. Stupid idiot. He should never have come down here alone.
"…Don't be ridiculous, Kaiba-boy."
It was with that line that Kaiba felt something stir inside of him. Something primal. Something very, very afraid. And all the while that smooth voice lulled on. "In my dungeon, in my castle, in my realm, the only one who makes threats…" Light flared from the place of Pegasus's second eye. A wind picked up. His long hair billowed around him. The light intensified. Kaiba shielded his eyes. "…is me."
Mokuba, however, was transfixed. He could not tear himself away from that light. And suddenly, he too was very afraid. More afraid that he had ever been in his life. In his mind, Kisara's words echoed. "Well…It looks like I'll have to think of another way to get you out of here. This is the lowest dungeon in the castle, so this is pretty much as bad as it can get, in case I mess up again."
His senseless body crumpled to the floor. His vacant eyes fixed onto wall of his cell.
Kaiba heard the thud behind him. "Mokuba?" He turned, and felt as though cold fingers had seized around his heart. "You monster," Kaiba whispered. "What have you done?" He looked back at Pegasus, just as the man's hair settled gracefully back around his shoulders. "What have you done to him?!"
"It's just a little magic trick."
"Tell me. What have you done?"
With a flick of his wrist Pegasus held up a card. It was a Duel Monsters card. And, on it, before Seto's very eyes, there appeared a picture of Mokuba, his hands raised against the frame, as though frozen in a desperate effort to escape. Kaiba did not understand. He could not understand. And yet, somehow, he felt that he understood all too well.
He felt as though he's seen this somewhere, long before. On a stone tablet.
"I've ensured your cooperation. For you see Mokuba's soul is now imprisoned in a place where the locks can't be picked," Pegasus said, smiling almost benignly. "The name of this card is The Soul's Prison."
Kaiba blinked at him. "You're mad."
Pegasus sighed. "And there he will remain, Kaiba-boy, until you beat me in a duel."
"Duel? With you? Now? Fine. I'll do anything." Kaiba's fingers twitched. His palms were sweating. His eyes were fixed on the card with Mokuba's expression of terror.
Pegasus smirked. Oh, he had Kaiba exactly where he wanted him. Pegasus shook his head, his hair waving with every motion. "Not just yet, Kaiba." Carefully, he re-pocketed the card inside his coat. Out of sight. But not out of mind. "You must first earn the privilege to challenge me. And you can only do that by defeating Yugi Mutou in a duel."
Kaiba's eyes widened.
Pegasus shrugged, brandishing his hands about, as though already envisioning the spectacle. "And if you can't win against him, Mokuba's soul will stay mine forever."
Pegasus smiled at the look on the boy's face. So resolved. And yet so innately broken. Oh yes, Seto Kaiba. If you haven't realized it yet, everything you love, or have ever loved, is at my mercy. Everything.
Almost fondly, Pegasus thought to his dear, beloved daughter.
…
In this chapter I combined what happens in the anime with what happens in the manga. That is why the plot of this chapter does not seamlessly follow either. I used Kisara to bind the two storylines into one.