Chapter 15 – The Best of Friends
7/29/09
Disclaimer: I-hay on't-day own-hay u-gi-oh-yay. (Clue: It's in Pig Latin)
His eyelids fluttered, opening after a few moments. The vague semblance of a room, painted in yellow, appeared, and the shapes of the room started to form. A beautiful mahogany chest and mirror leaned against an opposite wall. At the left of his bed, there was a matching table near a window adorned with striped yellow curtains. Seiji rose from the bed and stared at the pillow. It was not his pillow, and this place was certainly not his room.
Seiji's eyes wandered to his clothes. No longer wearing his black pantsuit, he instead found himself in a white 'I love Domino City' t-shirt and a pair of light blue jeans that were two sizes too big.
Rubbing the temple of his forehead, he pulled off a white comforter and rose from the queen-sized bed. The aftereffects of last night's episode were vicious, leaving a splitting headache.
The drinking session with Roland and that French woman. The gunshots. The tweed jacket man.
At the sound of a nearby flush, Seiji's breath quickened. He was in a strange hotel room by himself. Yesterday's attacker was now after him. He was going to die in the most pathetic of ways. He grabbed the nearest object that he could reach from the ground, gripping it tightly.
The door opened. He was about to swing when a man held his hands in the air. "Nakamura, please don't attack me with that hanger."
Glancing at his outstretched hand, Seiji noted that it was indeed a wire hanger, an extremely pliable one too. He lowered his arm, looking rather sheepish. "I guess I'm lucky that it's you, Isono."
"I think so." Roland put down his hands and smiled. "It's good that you're smart. You'd make a lousy bodyguard."
Seiji gave Roland a sour look and dropped the hanger on the carpeted floor. "Where are my clothes?"
"The police took it as evidence. I got you some clothes from the hotel's gift shop. Sorry, I couldn't get anything better."
"It's nothing. And Sophie?" Seiji asked, settling at the foot of the bed.
Roland sighed while he sat onto a nearby wooden chair. "She left. We were both pretty shaken up after last night." He chuckled darkly, wearing a tired expression. "She saw the whole incident as bad luck for a start of a relationship. Then again, my work schedule would have probably scared her at some point."
"I'm sorry." Guilt fell upon Seiji; his eyes lowered onto the floor. If he hadn't been so irresponsible and refused to drink to begin with, they wouldn't have been in this mess. It was everything—the daily stresses, the recent failure with his amusement park, and seeing the woman that resembled Laura—that led him to drink so heavily. Even in college, he had more self-control, always avoiding uncompromising situations if he could.
"Come on. We couldn't have predicted that to happen. You're too hard on yourself." Seiji didn't reply, causing Roland to worry about his older friend. Seiji was usually the calm one, rarely showing anxiety about work or daily stresses. He had never seen his friend so worked up about anything. "Oh, by the way, I got you some water and headache medicine. Hangovers are never fun."
Seiji muttered a thanks distractedly as he caught the bottles of water and pills that Roland had thrown at him.
"The police already interrogated us, but they want to talk to you again," Roland continued, pushing his glasses against the bridge of his nose. "The usual. I assured them that you're a good person, so you've got nothing to worry about. I've got to pick up a client soon, but you don't need to worry about anything. The room's already been paid for."
Seiji said nothing as he downed the water. His thoughts flew to the elderly man, the blood that poured from his chest, and his scared but determined expression. Gozaburo. Murderer. Gozaburo. Those were the tweed jacket man's last words. "Do they know who he is?"
"You mean that guy you found? A journalist. He died on the way to the hospital."
...
A portly police officer at a desk scanned Seiji's signature on a document. Seiji picked up his suitcase, holding it tightly, choosing not to sit on the chair that the police designated for him. The interrogation, despite Roland's insistence, was not as calm and easy as he claimed. Earlier, in a secluded room, a frowning woman with a tight bun and equally unfriendly man circled Seiji, throwing several questions at him. Why was he at the crime scene? Why had he been so conveniently drunk and unable to answer? What was his relationship to the man'? The female cop, in particular, seemed to have a strong dislike of Seiji, probing into his family life. She sneered when he replied that he was a responsible father, retorting that no proper dad left his poor innocent boys in the care of their dear and loving aunt to drink. He was pathetic to her, the scum of the earth.
It was no wonder that the Domino City police were inefficient, Seiji thought, as the police stamped the paper and told him that he was free to leave. They were so desperate to point fingers and close the case that they didn't even interrogate their only witness properly.
He needed to head home to his children. He would need some sort of explanation, no doubt, particularly because of his change of clothes. Seto was much too observant of a child, and his cousin Hiroko was persistent in nosing into others' business. As for this case and the tweed jacket man, Seiji needed to leave the investigation to the authorities, though it might have helped if Seiji informed them of the man's last words. Gozaburo was a common enough name. It didn't necessarily mean KaibaCorp's CEO. It might have been another Gozaburo. Gozaburo Kobayashi. Gozaburo Inoue. Perfectly reasonable.
Then again, from what the police stated, tweed jacket man's name was Isamu Takahashi, a freelance journalist. Seiji had read an article by him in the Domino Gazette. He heavily criticized KaibaCorp's corporate practices, even claiming that its CEO should be arrested. This caused quite a backlash among many prominent journalists.
Seiji failed to notice a slim woman with a heavy folder and bumped into her. A file of papers fell down; she bent down to gather them as Seiji knelt onto the floor to help.
"I'm so sorry. I should have been paying attention." He picked up a few document and handed them to her.
"It's no problem," the woman answered nervously, her auburn bob bouncing slightly as her hands reached for another paper.
"Still, I should have paid attention." Seiji replied, handing the last paper to her. When the woman looked up to face him, Seiji suddenly wished that he had been rude and left her to deal with her own mess.
"Mr. Nakamura?" Seiji stifled a groan. The police station was hardly the best place to meet colleagues, particularly ones that worked under him. "This is unexpected."
"I suppose it's the same for you as well, Mrs. Jonouchi." The project manager flushed as she shoved the papers quickly into the folder. "Speeding tickets?"
Mrs. Jonouchi gave a shaky laugh. "Of course, speeding tickets. They're such annoying fines. What a coincidence that we both have speeding tickets."
It didn't escape his notice that her eyes appeared red and puffy or her blue shirt had a small hole at the end. Whenever he saw her at work, she was impeccably dressed in a dress suit or nice skirt, and her make-up was neatly done. Seiji didn't press further; he wanted no more questions from her than she did. He needed to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible.
"Well, it was good—"
"Mr. Nakamura, I know that it's rather late to tell you this, but I want to thank you for giving me those days off from work. My daughter and I are extremely grateful." The sudden bout of friendliness confused Seiji. Mrs. Jonuchi's half-smile replaced the previous anxious look.
"It's nothing, Mrs. Jonouchi. I was just doing my job. I hope she's doing well. You know, I must—"
"Mrs. Nakamura," she started, pressing the folder to her chest, "I have to thank you properly. To be honest, my daughter Shizuka wanted to draw a little something for you, but her eyesight..." Her voice trailed.
"Oh, that's sweet but there's no need," Seiji insisted.
"I should buy you a cup of coffee at the very least."
"It's okay. You really don't have to."
...
Seiji should have just been direct and said no. It didn't help that she appeared so happy when he complied. Hopefully, Seto would be better at refusing than he was. He slid into wooden chair and sat at a cafe table, his hands clasped around a cup of freshly brewed tea. At the very least, the tea was warm and sweet, the perfect pick-me-up after a drunken night.
This was hardly appropriate. The red-head across the small table was married and certainly not his friend.
"I guess you're not a coffee person." Her hands gripped around a cup of coffee. A popular jazz song played on the speakers.
"I like both." Seiji answered a bit stiffly, taking a sip and noting the cafe that she had chosen. It was a quaint shop, the type of store that sold actual cappuccinos instead of the heavily marketed stuff that most places sold. A few empty tables littered the store. For a Saturday spring afternoon, very few people hung around. There could have been no more than six people, including the work staff.
"Mr. Nakamura, do you have your own children?"
He set the cup on the circular table. "Yes. Two sons. Seven and ten months." He paused, unsure of what to say. "What about you?" Children were always a safe topic.
"Seven and five." She opened a small black purse and pulled a maroon wallet, flipping a picture of two children to him. An energetic-looking, blond boy hugged a smaller red-haired girl and grinned widely. The girl, who supposed must have been this Shizuka who his mother spoke of, smiled shyly, wrapping her hands around her brother's waist.
"They're very cute," Seiji said, his expression softening. "They look so close."
Mrs. Jonouchi nodded and shut the wallet, returning it to her purse. "They're inseparable. Katsuya's so protective of his little sister, and she worships him. She calls her brother her hero."
Seiji took another sip. It was hard to not be a bit jealous. Seto barely paid attention to Mokuba, though he was arguably less obstinate in his silent treatment to him than he used to be. Recently, his son even warmed his brother's milk in the microwave without any complaint when Seiji asked.
"Sometimes, I think they're too close." Her voice trailed; her hazel eyes looking wistful for a moment. Seiji couldn't see how a good relationship between siblings could be a bad thing. He never had a brother or sister, and the closest thing to such a relationship was Hiroko, hardly anything to be proud of.
"Um...how's your daughter's treatment?" Seiji asked, desperate to break the silence. The woman seemed so distracted.
"Well, she's got bad eyesight. My poor girl gets ill so easily. Katsuya's such a healthy boy, but Shizuka..." Mrs. Jonouchi's fingers entwined as her eyes lowered onto the table. A pang of guilt came upon Seiji for wanting to dismiss the woman so quickly. She was lonely, and if the rumors at the office about her husband were true, had a bad marriage. The pain on dealing with a sick child, the constant struggle… Who was he to judge?
"Domino City Hospital's got some of the best doctors. Everything will work out somehow." Seiji then added, "My son is your son's age. Maybe they could arrange a play date for them. I'm sure that they'll get along." There. That seemed like the appropriate thing to say.
"Who knows? They might become the best of friends."Mrs. Jonouchi laughed and shook her head. "It's okay, Mr. Nakamura. There's no need. I'm very grateful, but you've done enough. I'm lucky to have a job with the amount of days that I took leave. I don't know how to thank you." She tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. "I'm so sorry that I asked you like this. A family friend of mine just died, and I was at loss. I couldn't stand to be alone."
"My condolences. What was his name?"
"Takahashi. Takahashi Isamu." Seiji's eyes widened. His throat grew dry as his fist tightened. This could not be happening. He did not deserve this. "A neighbor of mine. He always used to give me advice about stuff, even if I didn't want it. He always encouraged me, helped with my kids... Even told me to find another job once. I laughed and told him I would if he found me one."
"Wait, do you mean the journalist, Takahashi Isamu? He's wrote a well-known article before," Seiji said, trying to calm the racing thoughts that flew through his mind.
"Yes. He used to be the editor-in-chief of the Domino Gazette many years ago, but he stopped working there five years ago."
"Was he...fired?"
"He never explained it, but it was always a sensitive topic." Mrs. Jonouchi eyed him curiously. "Why?"
"I have a favor to ask." His tone of voice kept calm, though he felt far from it.
...
Several newspapers were strewn across a tatami-matted floor and a small white table. Seiji picked up a newspaper as he sat on green vinyl couch, peeling in several places. It was a recent edition, a few weeks old. He flipped through it to note a neatly cut hole on the third page.
"Mr. Takahashi's always so messy when he works," Mrs. Jonouchi said, following Seiji's eyes. "He gets all over the place when he's 'in the zone,'" she mimicked, putting her fingers up as if in quotes.
"He dressed so properly when I last saw him," Seiji stated, folding the newspaper and placed it back on the table.
She shrugged. "It always amazed me. Like he was leading a double life or something."
Seiji stood up, his eyes taking in the living room of the apartment. It was a one-bedroom apartment, a small homely place that seemed like the last place a prestigious journalist would stay. Even its ceiling was somewhat low, as if to conserve space. His hands could easily reach the ceiling without any effort.
"It's amazing how we're connected, isn't it?" Mrs. Jonouchi smiled, her eyes followed as he gazed at the cheap TV stand. "I can't believe that Mr. Takahashi was your father's friend."
"Yes," Seiji mumbled, suddenly finding the dust on the TV set to be interesting. "He visited us a few times. My father died a long time ago, so…"
His co-worker nodded understandingly. "It's normal to lose touch, but I'm sure he appreciates that you came." Seiji didn't reply and stared into the wall. He was never comfortable with lying, but it surprised him that she actually believed his tale that Takahashi was his father's long-lost friend.
"Mommy! Mommy!" The loud footsteps followed the cry. Seiji turned to see a blond-haired boy, the same one from the picture that he was shown, approach the woman. He appeared to be around his own son's age.
"Katsuya!" Mrs. Jonouchi cried, kneeling on one knee to face her son. Dirt covered his shirt and shorts, leaving it caked with mud. The boy gave a guilty grin, his eyes twinkling despite his mother's shocked expression. "What have you been doing?"
"Mommy, I was jus' playin' truth and dare, and I picked dare. One of the guys told me to put mud on the crazy lady's mat, and I had ta. I ain't a wuss!" His golden brown eyes appeared serious. "Plus, Shizuka's helped too. You shoulda seen her!"
Her son didn't seem concerned about the dirt trail that entered into the room or the mud that was caked on his face. Instead, he decided to animatedly tell of the crazy woman's scream and how she was currently threatening charges, which was why his mother needed to help him be clean. A small smile played upon Seiji's lips.
"Mommy, who's da skinny guy?" The child pointed to Seiji, eyeing him curiously. His tone of voice was bold, holding a certain swagger to it.
"It's just my boss. He knew the nice man who lived here, so I was just showing him around." Her hands took the child's hands gave an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, but I need to clean him up. I'm sure that you know how boys are."
Seiji replied that it was all right and turned to face a stack of desk as they left the apartment. Aside from playing in the sandbox, Seto never found the mud to be a particularly interesting beyond the age of two. His son prided in keeping neat and found no amusement in getting dirty if he didn't have to.
Maybe, when Mokuba was older, he'd face the unfortunate joy of finding his son in such a pickle.
Seiji walked about into a cramped kitchen. Similar to the other rooms, the off-white paint of walls peeled, and the floor was yellow, though Seiji deemed that was not his original color. He opened a white cupboard. The knob fell down. He closed it and tried to screw back the knob, failing miserably.
Whoever the landlord was, he would be far from thrilled.
The bathroom and the bedroom proved to show little else, except the neatly dressed man was a slob with worse taste in furniture than Seto claimed Seiji had. What did he expect to find? What could a dead man tell him? He should have never sat for coffee, never asked for the favor, never lied… It was pointless. He was no Sherlock Holmes, just an ordinary man with some intelligence.
Re-entering the living room, Seiji noted the small display behind the television. Three floating shelves were arranged vertically on a wall. Seiji glanced at the objects on it. On each shelf, a different picture was placed, each appearing to be of the man at different stages of his life. The picture on the lowest shelf was a recent picture of Takahashi. The elderly man's hands clapped around the shoulders of a young raven-haired boy with green eyes. The child hugged a huge dice plushie.
He picked the baby blue picture frame, which was engraved with cursive writing that said 'Grandpa and I.' The background appeared to be at a carnival of sorts. Turning to the shelves, he pressed his hands against the wood. Unlike the rest of the furniture and the decorations in the house, the shelves were ornately patterned, beautifully covered with curving leaves, even upon its bracket. It was incredibly heavy, Seiji thought, much too heavy for a shelf.
Inspecting it carefully, he noted a small lining on the lower part of the shelf. A gasp escaped him, and he tugged at it. From years of experience with civil engineering, he worked with different types of structure to realize what this was no ordinary shelf.
A hidden drawer opened, revealing a plain brown portfolio inside. Picking up the folder, he gingerly touched it. There were no words written on it, but excitement and unease stirred in him, leaving him at unease. Seiji closed the shelf and was about to open the page when he heard footsteps.
Seiji tossed the portfolio into his leather briefcase and closed the latch. Placing back the picture on the shelf, Seiji put the picture back on the shelf, his back facing away from the woman.
"I'm so sorry about earlier." Mrs. Jonouchi replied earnestly.
Seiji turned around and shook his head. "It's alright. I was just admiring these pictures." He steadied his voice, hoping it didn't waver.
"I hope it helped." Mrs. Jonouchi said sympathetically. Her hands were cleaned, and she was changed into a clean red t-shirt. "Seeing his place, I mean."
"It helped."
That night, after his tucking his children for bed, Seiji switched on the lamp in his bedroom, flipped open his suitcase, and placed the portfolio onto his mahogany desk. After he took a deep breath, he flipped it open to its first page. He wished he never looked.
To Unnamed person, I put your review response for the last chapter at the end with the other responses. For some reason, it didn't copy, so sorry if you didn't get a chance to read it. If any of the reviewers don't get a review response, please let me know. Sometimes, I get problems with uploading.
I finally got a new laptop, so I'm excited. My old laptop died, and the house PC got hit by virus, so I was computer-less for a long time.
Are any of you guys a fan of the show Lost? It's my probably my favorite on TV. Today, I saw the actor for Benjamin Linus. I was in the car with my brother and we were just talking about how we never saw anyone famous up close (doing something normal, not performing), and then he walked in crosswalk, right in front of our car with some blond woman. Talk about insane timing. Plus, my brother's a huge fan, and he was planning on showing me a few episodes that day. Unfortunately, we couldn't stop to ask for an autograph, but, then again we would have held up traffic if we did. (And probably be thought as crazy for chasing him…)
To Atem's Sister Atea, I had fun writing Nesbitt, though he is such a boring person. I'm glad you liked my chap. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.
To Zoelle, I'm glad you enjoyed Seto and Mokuba's relationship grow. It was a favorite scene to, and I felt it was about time they got a bit close. I also think a little conflict makes the relationship better, and want Seto to mature so he can handle what he comes for him in the future.
To Sakura Takanouchi, I'm glad that it was unpredictable. I can never tell when I release it because it seems so obvious to me. I can't say too much about Seto, but Seiji, as you guessed would not tell his son about his involvement with KaibaCorp. He would consider it to be irrelevant, since it's not something that either of think deeply. I'm glad that you enjoy Mokuba and Seto's interaction; I'm hoping that it's believable. (I plan to end the story with a bang.)
To Noc and NC, Sorry, I had to mislead about Katsuya, but I honestly wasn't sure if he'd make a real appearance in the story. It was between him and another character, and he won that round. I'm glad you enjoyed the silent pressure scene. It was probably the most challenging scene for me to write in that chapter. As for Jun, I'm thrilled that you like her. I agree with you that she does say pretty stupid things. She's too blunt for her own good. As for Seiji's response, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Seiji's not the type to play hero unless he has to or feels really obligated.
To evil sasuke girl, sorry but tweed jacket man is very much dead. I think I've killed four characters so far. Your review made me smile.
To MythCreatorWriter, I think you gave me the longest review ever. And I loved it. And because you mentioned this in your review…
Seto (all grownup and arrogant as ever, wearing a blue trenchcoat): (Eats chips while typing on laptop)
Seiji: (randomly in office and smacks his head)
Random Voice: You could have had a V8. (an annoyed Seto gives death glares to Seiji)
I couldn't resist. I'm glad you enjoyed my chapters so far. I hope my description is more sprinkled in this chapter. It's pretty reliant on description. I think that Seto Kaiba, despite Gozaburo's influence would be someone that Seiji would be proud of. He'd just feel guilty that he couldn't protect him by living and leave his son to fend on his own. I always imagined Seto's nurturing behind his egotistical heart, just selective on who he shows it to.
To The Duelist's Heiress, I had fun writing Seiji/Seto interaction, so I'm glad you liked it.
To Meconopsis, I figured that this story, as much as it's about the Kaiba's past, should include characters from Kaiba's past. If anyone should meet the people from Seto's future, it's his parents. Jun's probably one of my favorite characters to write. The more obnoxious she gets, the more fun I have. I didn't get the finger flick idea from Naruto, though my brother likes the show and showed me that scene after your review.
To ohlalala, your review made me blush from the many compliments. I don't know about brilliant, but I'm glad that you like the story. Keep enjoying.
To Demented Insane Spirit, the first scene probably took the most time to write. I figured that Gozaburo should be so bad that his presence should be scary enough. As for Jun, I'm so happy that you liked her. I hate working with perfect characters that lack flaws; they are much too boring to write. I never know when my humor is a hit or miss. I keep thinking of doing a few things between her and Seto, but I wonder if I'll cross some unspoken fanfiction line somewhere (searches for it…) As for Seiji, I wanted him to finally accept Laura's death, which he hadn't really faced. Seto does gain something from his parents, even with Gozaburo's influence.
To Wolfstar713, I would make my characters more miserable than they already are. As if Seiji didn't have enough problems already.