This is, by far, the most infuriating chapter in this entire work. I have been working and reworking it for so long now, I don't want to think about it anymore. The initial idea, which is why the previous chapter is called "Aftershock I," was to have this particular section split into two chapters.

Upon further consideration, I realized that it made more sense to combine the two of them. This chapter marks the end of the "Shot in the Dark" storyline, and thus the first major arc of this story. It will continue with other plots and sections, but this is a major milestone.

The first path has been completed. But we all know that there are many other roads to take. Roads paved with intentions of every sort.


1.


He had seen it once.

The first time Mokuba had come to the Turtle Game Shop for a visit, and he'd given his brother a goodbye hug and an, "I love you," Joey had seen this same phenomenon, but he hadn't thought much of it then; only as an example of Mokuba bringing out Seto Kaiba's apparent humanity. But now he saw more in it...and it frightened him.

As soon as his brother was back in his arms, there was a transformation. The limp, unresponsive muscles; the unthinking, thousand-yard stare; suddenly it was gone. Seto Kaiba was, in that instant, himself again. He began to speak, he began to move. Joey bit his lip as he listened, feeling like nothing so much as a trespasser.

"...It's okay, baby…" Seto whispered, stroking his brother's hair. "You're safe. Go ahead and cry. You're safe."

It suddenly felt like nothing had happened. Like Siegfried had done no worse than hide the boy away for a while in a three-man game of hide and seek. Like the gun in Joey's hand had never been fired. Seto was no longer a frightened child; he was no longer the pawn in Siegfried von Schroeder's game.

He was a father again.

"It's okay, little one...it's okay."

Joey stumbled backward, and drew in a shuddering breath. He turned to see Tristan and Darren both watching him. He cleared his throat, wiped his face, and sighed. He grinned, even though he didn't really want to. "Well...here's hopin' that's over...huh?"

"We can hope," Darren agreed, sighing himself, "but we should get Mokuba to a hospital. You don't just pop back from a fright like that. I need to call this in, get everything straightened up with my captain. The last thing we need is for Seto to be branded a murderer."

"Sick part is, that'll prob'ly still happen, fuck-all to whatever we do," Tristan said. "The whole thing was bein' broadcast online." He gestured to the cameras on the ceiling. "Caught everything, right up to when Kaiba took 'im down. I don't know how many people saw it, but I'm betting plenty."

Darren frowned. "I'm almost surprised," he said bitterly, and glanced over at Siegfried's body. "Sick son of a bitch...well, never mind. He doesn't matter anymore. C'mon. Let's get them out of here and checked out. You two help them; I'll call for an ambulance."

Joey nodded. "Gotcha."

Tristan headed over to the front door and opened it. "Uh...Detective?"

"What?"

"I, uh...guess I was right. A, uh...at least a few people saw that video."

"What are you talking about?"

The brunette glanced back and chuckled nervously. "Looks like about fifty of 'em are out here."

"...Fuck."


2.


Kevin Halling was a big man, tall and stocky. His sandy brown hair was cut at his collar. His clothing was somewhat crumpled, suggesting that he'd been in bed before being called out, but his dark green eyes were sharp and keen.

He was Darren McKinley's partner, and he was standing in front of the crowd on Siegfried von Schroeder's lawn. He stepped forward, onto the porch, and looked ready to kill something. Darren was surprised the entire throng wasn't rushing forward and throwing questions at him like so much rotten fruit, but as he looked around at the sea of faces, he realized that these were the true Kaiba devotees. They looked pale, scared, and solemn.

"I don't think I need to ask how you ended up here," Darren said as he stepped out of the doorway.

"Katie," Kevin rumbled. "Saw that video. She said she might've expected you to be there. If Kaiba was gonna call anybody in on this one, it'd be you. I'd bitch you out for not calling me, but from the way she told me, sounds like a delicate operation went on in there. Less people crowding that nutjob the better, huh?"

"I think if you'd been with us," Darren said, "he'd have felt threatened. The only reason we made it out of there was because he thought he had the upper hand right up to the end. I'd ask how these people found this place, but for all I know, the bastard gave out the address, too."

"Bingo."

"Beautiful. Well, c'mon. I could use your help. Apparently there're a couple people out back that need cleaning up. Still alive. Unlike their employer."

"You sound so torn up about it, too," Kevin noted with a light smirk. "Has my fine Christian partner turned Puritan on me?"

"Oh, I'm a good boy," Darren said, "but I don't get hung up on feeling guilty when people get what they deserve. If I did, I wouldn't be a cop. I'd be Catholic."

"Hey, now. My mother-in-law's Catholic. You looking to start a religion war?"

"My god could beat up her god."

Kevin snickered. "You do know we're all Christians when it comes down to it, right? Catholic, Orthodox, even them freakish Lutherans. It's all one big umbrella."

"Just because we're sharing an umbrella doesn't mean I won't push her out into the rain. Besides, you said it yourself. Your mother-in-law is Catholic. Apparently her daughter escaped."

"Not really, but she's trying."

Darren laughed, but almost immediately choked it off, remembering why Kevin was even here, why he was even here, and felt guilty despite himself. Shaking his head at the irony, he turned a solemn look over his shoulder, back into the mansion where Joey and Tristan were trying to coax the Kaibas into moving. He barely resisted the urge to sigh.

"…How's the kid?" Kevin asked, sobering.

"He'll be okay," Darren replied, trying to keep the, I hope, out of his tone. "He's shaken up, but no serious injuries."

"I started reading up on them, y'know," Kevin said, "back when you first told me about 'em. They're...they've been through hell, haven't they? All those stories...they're true, aren't they?"

"Most of the worst ones are," Darren offered. "If you ever wanted proof that fate is a cruel, overly demanding bitch...they're all the proof you'll ever need. But I guess there's always a silver lining. In the end...it's what's helped them survive. If not for the lives they've had, tonight would have broken them."

"So I guess it's our job now to fix things up, isn't it? Let them get back on their feet without worrying about the clean-up. Let's go see about this bastard's flunkies, then."

"Let's."


3.


October 29, 2007


"Do you…d'you remember what he looked like?" Joey asked, looking at Téa with an expression that was at once pained and furious. "When Crawford beat 'im. I'm not talkin' about when he sucked Kaiba's soul out or however the hell that magic works. I'm talking about right after he lost. Right when Crawford used Copycat on Kaiba's Crush virus, when Kaiba first realized he was gonna lose. You remember that. Don't you, Téa?"

Téa shook her head. "N-No. I…I don't. I'm sorry."

Joey grunted. "Well, I do," he said. "Think it was the first time I ever really thoughta Kaiba as more than…an obstacle, I guess. When I got it. When I got why he damn near offed himself out on that balcony."

"That look," Tristan said, haunted, "made that blank stare when he was soulless look…look…nice. Like Crawford had done him a favor. 'You just lost the only chance you had to save your baby brother.' Or whatever the hell he said. It was like…Kaiba was begging him to get on with it. To…to end it."

Yugi was staring at his lap. "I had…we had, Yami and me, a…dream. Before the final day of the tournament," he said softly. "We saw…all of them. Mokuba, Grandpa, Kaiba. They were on…crosses." He seemed embarrassed to be admitting this. "Just hanging there. And they said…they told us it hurt. They asked us to…help. Begged us to help. But…do you know," he looked up at them all, "what Kaiba said? What he asked us to do?"

Téa shook her head, looking terrified.

"'Get him out of this,'" Yugi recited. "'Whatever else you do, Mutou…whatever sacrifice you have to make…get. Him. Out.'"

"Sounds like Kaiba, a'right," Joey said. "He'd…he'd do anything for that kid." He turned his eyes away for a moment, looking like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to smile or cry. "He looked like that, Téa. Like when Crawford beat 'im. That night, after winning, he looked like that. Like his life wasn't worth half a fuck past pain anymore. Like he'd finally cracked under the pressure. He looked like he wanted to die, Téa, after he fucking won."

"He was on autopilot," Tristan said. "Damn near killed anyone who tried to touch the kid. Weren't for Detective McKinley, he'd've gone on a goddamn rampage. I swear it."

"Who…who is this…Detective McKinley?" Téa asked.

"I guess he and Kaiba met at a conference or something," Yugi said. "Right around when you left for school. Detective McKinley was on security. Kaiba was supposed to give a presentation or something like that, I guess."

"How…how was Mokuba?" she asked after a moment.

"Calm, s'long as he could see 'is brother," Joey said. "Soon's he lost sight o' Kiaba, he'd start cryin' out for him, fighting off the staff and trying to find 'im."

Téa let out a little whimper.

"You would've thought things'd get better, once they got Mokuba sedated and in his own room. Just our damn luck, that's when shit fell apart." Tears were running down Joey's face, and he didn't seem aware of it.

Téa looked ready to cry herself.

Tristan, sitting back, eyes closed and head down, said, "We were wrong, Téa. Dead fuckin' wrong. Okay, so he's not the nicest sonuvabitch in the world, but…for the love o' God, would you be?" He looked up. "We seen guys try to kill Mokuba before, but…this guy almost fucking did it."

"So that shit," Joey snarled, standing and pointing to the newspaper sitting discarded on the counter, "where the son of a whore don't even mention Schroeder's goddamn name, just makes him out to look like a motherfucking victim?"

Téa flinched. "I…I didn't…"

"Yeah. You didn't know. 'Cuz that fuck didn't tell you! The bastard oughtta be locked the fuck up for that shit! Let's not mention the kid who almost got his goddamn head blown off 'cuz of the 'competitor' Kaiba 'chose to shoot in his own home,' 'cuz that'd make him look half the fuck human!"

"Joey…" Yugi said softly, holding up a head.

"I…I…sorry, Téa, that just…pisses me off. I think I finally get what—"

"Joey," Yugi said again, more forcefully.

The blond blinked, looked at his friend, then looked at where he was pointing.

Mokuba Kaiba stood in the doorway to the Turtle Game Shop, arms crossed over his chest, and his glare could have frozen a bonfire. It was locked, dead-center, on Téa Gardner.


4.


"That's enough," Mokuba said, and the light and happy voice that the group associated with him was nowhere even close. This wasn't an eleven-year-old boy; this wasn't Mokuba, Kaiba-Corp's lovable mascot, that people loved to watch as he made his little speeches and dressed up in funny costumes. This wasn't even Seto Kaiba's little brother.

This was Kaiba-fukushachou. Kaiba Gozaburo's son.

"I'm sure you meant well, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell that story to just anyone, if you don't mind." The boy's grey-violet eyes flashed.

Téa flinched. Frowning, Yugi said, "Mokuba…this isn't 'just anyone,' it's—"

"Who?" Mokuba snapped, eyebrows raising. "A friend? Someone I can trust? Someone I'd like to know the truth? I don't think so. This isn't your story, Yugi. Or yours," he all but snarled at Joey and Tristan, who made no visible reaction at all. "It's my brother's. It's mine."

"Mokuba…" Yugi said, almost pleaded, "…you've always liked Téa. Haven't you? Why would you be so upse—"

Mokuba snatched up the paper and thrust it forward. "This!" he almost screamed. "I don't care if she's the Crown Princess of China! Do you guys think I haven't read what this…this…asshole wrote about my brother? I know exactly what these people think of him, and they'll drop to anything to make him look bad!" He turned his glare back to Téa, who went pale as she realized what she saw in those eyes: it wasn't anger…it was loathing. "Because they know people like you will believe it."

"Mokuba…I-I—"

"I've known you guys for three years," Mokuba hissed, "and every time I've seen you, you've never had one good thing to say about him. You," he jabbed a spasmodic hand at Téa, "were the one who always had to talk down to him. Assume you understand him and you had the right to insult him. Maybe the others didn't like him much, but you were special. You weren't only the worst one, you were the stupid one, too!"

"Mokuba!" Yugi protested, straining to sound like he had any sort of authority. But unlike the ancient king who had once shared a body with him, Yugi couldn't frighten a Kaiba into submission.

"What?" Mokuba screeched. "You guys don't get it, do you? I know what you guys think of him! I know what you've said to him! I'm not deaf! And I'm not the one who thought he tried to kill himself at Duelist Kingdom because he wanted the stupid star chips!"

Joey flinched violently, but he said nothing. Tristan turned away, and Yugi blushed.

Téa was mortified.

"What was it you said to him?" Mokuba asked all four of them, his voice suddenly much softer, and much more frightening as a result. For the first time, they truly understood that this boy and Seto Kaiba were brothers. "That his life was more important…than star chips? That he shouldn't waste his life on a game? That as long as he had courage, he'd always have chips in his soul? That's what you said, isn't it?"

"Y-Yes, but I…I…"

"That's what you said."

"Yes."

"Was courage going to save my life, then? Was courage going to save Yugi's grandfather? What about Yugi? You never told him that he shouldn't waste his life on a game, did you? Did you?"

"…No."

"You never told him to look for the chips in his soul, did you?"

"No."

"But it never crossed your mind, not even once, that my brother might have been there for something else. That maybe he was in a tournament he hadn't even signed up for, that maybe he was cheating, because he didn't have a choice. You idiots knew Crawford had me locked in his dungeon, but you didn't ever think he might have been there for me. Even once."

"…No," Yugi finally admitted. "We…we didn't. Yami did, but…we didn't."

"Well, good for Yami, then!" Mokuba spat. "You know what's funny? You all like to throw words around my brother, like heartless and cruel and jerk and asshole. The funny part is, a lot of people are like that. You guys don't think Pegasus Crawford is such a bad guy anymore, do you? Téa?"

She flinched again. "…No. He was trying…he was just…he—no."

"He kidnapped me. He starved me, he held me prisoner on his island for a week. Then he used that Millennium thing of his to trap me in a playing card. And if he'd beaten Yugi or Yami or whoever the hell dueled him, he would have kept me there. He would have killed me. Me, Niisama, and Solomon Mutou. But…oh, it's just…so sad, isn't it? The poor man just wanted to see his wife again. Let's not expect him to grow up and deal with it, no, it's so sad! But…but Seto Kaiba, he ripped a card in half! How dare he? What a child!"

"He didn't…he didn't just rip the card in—"

"Yugi, shut up," Joey cut in.

"I know," Mokuba said. "Mister Mutou had a heart attack. I guess you guys don't care that Niisama paid to get him into the best hospital in the city. I guess it doesn't matter that maybe it was an accident. No, he must have wanted to do that. He must have planned it. And I guess you guys don't really care that he was sixteen, and maybe he was in a bad place when he did that. No, let's all burn him at the stake for it, that heathen. We'll save our forgiveness for psychopaths who kidnap children and keep them in dungeons!"

"Mokuba…I didn't…we didn't…we don't…" Téa was crying freely now, barely able to even stand anymore.

"You lost to yourself!" the young Kaiba sneered, raising his voice in savage mockery. "In the end, you couldn't even rely on your own courage! You ran away! You're the real loser!" With each snarled sentence, Téa flinched, her own words flung back at her with such scathing black hatred that the very room seemed to shudder.

Mokuba took a moment to compose himself, biting his lip and breathing deeply for a moment, before he said, "Niisama doesn't care. He doesn't listen to any of it, and he's trying to teach me that. Did you ever notice he never said I couldn't start coming over here and talking to you guys? He never said anything about it. I would've thought the kind of creep you love to think he is…well, he'd forbid it, wouldn't he? 'Cuz he's such a dick."

"I don't…I don't love to—"

"No. It's just easy. It's so easy to just call him a bastard, isn't it? Let's all vent our anger on Seto Kaiba, because…because he's rich and he's mean and he hurts our feelings. Was Pegasus Crawford rich and mean? Well, sure, but he had a reason for it. Seto Kaiba doesn't have a reason. He's just evil."

Téa's eyes shot around, looking for some kind of backup, but her friends all looked stone-faced, and it was clear they weren't interested in defending themselves or her. They were laying themselves on the sword.

"What else did you say back then? Yugi has friends who'll stick with him to the very end. And what do you have at the end of the day, Seto Kaiba? Isn't that what you asked him?"

Téa nodded miserably.

"And what did he say?"

Guiltily, but without defensiveness, Joey said, "He told us, 'I have all that I need.'"

"He meant me. But you didn't think about that, did you? You just thought he was being his good old asshole self and good riddance to him, because why should he have a motive? Yugi's grandpa got his soul stolen, too, and Niisama should care about an old man he doesn't know more than his own family. Right. That's how it works. You wanted him to be a good sport, get in line and wait for you 'cuz you got there first, even though it was his only chance to save me. You wanted me to die."

"No!" Téa wailed.

"No? Oh. Right. Yugi saved me. Obviously Niisama was supposed to trust you. Obviously he was supposed to leave Yugi to do it, because he's such a trusting person. He's supposed to trust you, because you had so much faith in him."

"I…I'm sor—"

"And now this," the boy said, shaking the newspaper. "Not only is he evil, but now you think he's a murderer. Again, it can't be because of me. He's just crazy and evil and he likes to shoot people. And you think, 'Oh, if only he was a better person, my life would be so much better.'" Mokuba threw the paper onto the ground, looking angry enough to start crying himself, for sheer frustration. "If Niisama was a better person, I'd be d-dead," he choked, voice breaking on the last word. "Even…even though everything got explained to you…even after you knew he was trying to s-save me…you still found it so easy to believe he was a murderer. Just like…just like the rest of them. Just like everyone else!"

"I…oh, God, I…I'm sor—"

"Shut up!" Mokuba sobbed, and now the anger was gone. Burnt out. "Just…just stop. I don't want to hear it. I'm sorry. Sorry my brother ruined your day again. Sorry he upset you again." Tears ran in rivulets down his face from his empty eyes, and his voice hitched again. "So sorry I'm stupid enough to l-love him!" He started digging frantically in his pocket for his phone, forcing himself to calm down. "…I'm going home."

"Mokuba…" Yugi murmured gently. "She…she knows. She's trying to apologize. You shouldn't interrupt her when she's trying to apologize!"

The younger Kaiba brother glanced up from the device clutched in his hand, and his entire being turned icy. "She hasn't earned the right to apologize," he said, completely calm and collected again, as he turned and headed for the door. He began punching the digits of a number as he pushed the door open. Téa stood, stunned and crying, unable to take her eyes away from him.

Mokuba turned to look over his shoulder, and his own grey-violet eyes were murderous.

"…Not from me."


5.


He walked with purpose, swift and silent, and there was a rose in his hand.

It wasn't often that Seto Sasaki-Yagami Kaiba could be found in Domino City's Vinewood Terrace cemetery. He was not the sort of man to dwell on the past, on lives lost and history's footprints. So much demanded his attention that he often had no time to think of anything else, even if he had wanted to do it.

He wore a black suit, but he did not mourn. He did not cry. In the year between the death of Siegfried von Schroeder and now, he had made what would have been called a "full recovery." He did not believe such a thing existed, but he also didn't care. He was himself again, and while he was impacted by that night when the world had almost ended, he did not dwell on it. He did not feel that he had the right to dwell on it.

He told himself that he didn't know his reason for being here. And that was partly true. What he didn't know was what he might take from this visit; he did know why he had come, however. The rose in his hand proved that readily enough. It was a red rose. Fairly standard. Perhaps a flower better suited to another sort of gesture, but he didn't think of that. When he had picked it out, he had been thinking of a portrait hanging in his office, painted by a hand he did not know; a portrait from an old photograph that he had not seen for several years.

It seemed fitting.

It's…a place to rest, Yagami Yuki had said once, when four-year-old Yagami Seto asked her what a cemetery was. It's a place to remember, to be at peace, with your family. It's a place where you can see old faces, even when they're gone.

"Why…?" Seto murmured now, parroting the question he had asked, so many years before.

Because sometimes, you can't figure out the answer yourself. Sometimes, you need advice from somebody who came before you. When you go to a cemetery, Seto-chan, you're looking for answers. Why are all these people here? Why did they leave? Why can't all our loved ones live forever? Why do we have to die? You don't always find the answers, but it never hurts to ask. And maybe, one day, somebody will answer you.

"…I can't help but doubt that, Mother…" Seto whispered, looking at the rose in his hand.

He looked up, surveying his surroundings, and found the way to go. He knew where she lay, alongside her mother, and father, and husband, and he thought that he would never forget. He remembered standing there, holding his infant brother, as she had been lowered into the earth. Yes…he knew where she lay.

But as he began to head in that direction, something else caught his eye.

It was a mausoleum, guarded by a stone angel. His attention was riveted to that edifice, that resting place for those unable to bear the thought of lying with strangers. And as he turned and began to walk toward it, he wondered. But he knew, even before he saw. It was the final resting place of the von Schroeder family.

He entered without hesitating, wondering why he would bother. But something guided him, and he chose not to ignore it. The place was dark, and uncomfortable, and Seto couldn't help but think that it was the specific people entombed here that caused the particularly foreboding atmosphere. He thought it likely that the personal homes of the living members of this most exalted clan would feel just the same.

In the back, enshrined with offering upon offering of elaborate and colorful floral arrangements, was Siegfried von Schroeder. Born on the 17th of November, 1988. Died on the 9th of September, 2006.

The flowers were fresh, likely kept that way through some arrangement with the cemetery's staff, and the sheer number of them both exasperated and irritated the tomb's current visitor. Seto scowled, unsurprised but still insulted.

He glanced to the side, and saw another marker.

And suddenly, he had his answer.


Leonhart von Schroeder

June 14, 1995 – July 28, 2005

Alles hat ein Ende


Seto's mouth opened…and he understood.

He turned a bitter smile back upon the man who had once been a rival, the man who had made it his personal duty in life to overthrow the Kaiba family in any way possible, and Seto almost laughed. He looked at the rose in his hand, and shook his head. Inexplicably, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He had his answer. The final shadow of confusion wrought by Siegfried von Schroeder's final stand for victory fled Seto Kaiba's mind.

"He was too good for you, Siegfried," Seto whispered, and dropped the rose in front of Leonhart's grave; the first offering the young von Schroeder had received in over two years. He turned on his heel, and shook his head in wonder.

His phone rang, and he took it out of his pocket.

"…And I think you knew that."


END.


And thus, we reach a milestone. For those wondering throughout the course of this work so far, why Seto and Joey seem to get along so well, or why Seto is so overly protective in certain situations; for those wondering why this piece spanned such a long stretch of time, I hope that it was worth it.

Those of you who have been following my side-project, "Blue Eyes, Violet Eyes," will know that my latest chapter ("Stands Hard as a Stone") deals with the ramifications of this incident from Mokuba's point of view. So I hope that helps to paint the picture I was trying to present here.

When I set out to complete this story arc, I wanted to stay away from the standard "Mokuba's kidnapped" tropes. By which I mean, I didn't want a villain who was out to get something from Seto. Siegfried von Schroeder wasn't out for personal gain or glory. He wasn't in it to manipulate Seto.

He was in it to ruin Seto.

Not financially. Not physically. But mentally and emotionally. That, I think, marks the distinction. By targeting Mokuba with the explicit knowledge that he wouldn't come out of it alive, Siegfried managed to steal Seto's greatest defense. And, as this chapter shows, Mokuba didn't get off scott-free, either. He's angry, he's scared, and he's sensitive. For his confrontation with Téa, I used a combination of both speeches she levels onto Seto during Duelist Kingdom; both the English version, and a translation of the original Japanese.

This incident will have longstanding repercussions throughout the rest of the story. That, I think, is what makes it a climactic event. Not the action, not the intrigue, but what remains after the adrenaline stops pumping and you're left wondering what the hell just happened, and how you're going to handle it.

I utilized von Schroeder for this because he's a character I've never written before, and was the only one with the right kind of history to inflict this kind of damage. As for Leonhart…he needed a catalyst, and unfortunately that was the only thing I could fathom that would drive Siegfried to such an act.

In that, I'm afraid, Seto Kaiba and Siegfried von Schroeder are frighteningly alike.