He agreed to meet with Seto Kaiba at seven, but he arrives at the pub at six-thirty, so he can be adequately prepared to interact with Seto Kaiba. He flags down a waitress as soon as the host, a skinny and freckled redhead, leads him to a booth in the corner.
"I'm going to open a tab now," he says bluntly, offering his credit card to the waitress as he sits down. "You're welcome to bring me as much stout as you can carry. When my companion comes, you can make your job easier by just bringing 'em in twos."
The waitress smiles at him. He winks at her, brushing his golden-blond hair out of his eyes. "A'ight. But seriously, though."
She gives him a knowing nod and reappears a minute or two later with a pint of dark beer. He smiles gratefully at her, sliding a few bills from his wallet and onto the table.
As she disappears from view, he takes a long, thirsty sip from the stein, scanning the room to check for the arrival of Seto Kaiba. If he remembers the man's presence correctly, he won't be difficult to spot. His gaze drifts from table to table, mentally tabulating the scores of the sports games on various TV screens and watching the billiards games progress in the dimly-lit back of the pub. He finishes his beer, setting the empty glass at the edge of the table, and finds himself duly impressed when the waitress whisks the glass away and replaces it with a new pint within thirty seconds.
"Wheeler." Joey's head jerks rapidly, following the sound of a familiar, cold, amused voice. He finds himself staring at Seto Kaiba, dressed in a crisply pressed navy-blue suit and carrying a leather briefcase. The brown-haired man sets his briefcase on the floor and slides into the booth opposite Joey.
"Nice place to meet, Wheeler. Why am I not surprised you'd drag me out to a place like this?"
Joey feels heat pulse through his veins, and he grips his hand tightly around the handle of his drink. "It's good to see you too, Kaiba," he responds.
Seto's arms fold across his chest. "No, it's not. Don't insult my intelligence, Wheeler." Joey grits his teeth as Seto leans back against the seat cushions, lips curling into a self-satisfied smile. He has only seen pictures of Seto Kaiba since high school, which is how he planned to live the rest of his life. The man looks exactly like he remembered him from the last time he saw him-the same neatly combed dark brown hair, the same sharp, angular cheekbones, the same almond-shaped eyes in a disarmingly pale blue color. Unfortunately, he still also has the same proficiency at making Joey's blood boil; being in Seto's presence makes Joey feel as if he has regressed several years. Suddenly he is back in high school, exchanging blows with Seto across the arena over a game of Duel Monsters.
"Why did you bring me to this dump, anyway?" Seto asks, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table.
His words rattle Joey from his train of thought, and his face contorts with momentary confusion. "Hmm?"
Seto's eyes roll. "Oh, for goodness' sake, Wheeler. You called my assistant today, desperate to meet with me. Get to the point; I don't have time for your foolishness."
"Right." Joey shakes his head quickly, clearing the alcohol-induced haze from his head. "Kaiba, someone came to see me about you."
He isn't sure if he just imagines the way that Seto's eyebrows jump with alarm. "Go on," he says, nodding.
Joey hesitates, tracing his finger through the condensation accumulating on his beer glass. "Kaiba, look, I, um"-he leans forwards, his voice dropping lower-"there's no love lost between us, but you know that I respect you."
To his great surprise, the man's unflinching blue eyes widen slightly, and the steeled expression on his face softens somewhat. For a moment, to Joey, Seto Kaiba looks almost human. "All right, Wheeler," he says, sucking his lower lip with his teeth.
"Something's going on," Joey responds. Seto's face in front of him lurches as the pressure of containing the words is released. "Someone came to me today, Kaiba. About you."
Seto's mouth gapes open with shock, and as Joey looks closer, he can see that the man's pupils are dilated with unmistakable horror. "Who?" Seto demands, without pretext. "Who came to see you?"
Joey shakes his head. "Some white-haired girl….Kisara….something. She worked for a cyber security firm, or something." He frowns, looking more closely at the brown-haired man in front of him. His pale skin looks almost translucent, and there are dark circles, puffy and purple like bruises, under his eyes. He has always associated Seto with a certain kind of power-hungry desperation, but today he looks so exhausted that Joey feels a pang of sympathy stir in his heart.
Seto leans forwards, pressing the palms of his hands against the table. Joey can smell coffee and mint gum on his breath. "Wheeler, I don't know what you heard, but"-
Joey leans back, alarmed at Seto's sudden movement. "Kaiba. It's alright," he says, avoiding meeting Seto's wide-stretched blue eyes. "I'm here…" he trails off, bracing himself with a hearty swallow of beer, "I'm here as your friend."
Seto's nose wrinkles slightly, but he sits back down, making a disconcerted noise in the back of his throat. "Don't push it, Wheeler," he mutters.
"Knock it off, man. I think you're in trouble, here."
Seto says nothing, but his jaw is clenched so tightly that Joey can see the veins in his neck. "Someone is trying to destroy me," he says, casting a furtive glance around the room.
Joey sighs. "Yeah. I figured." Unable to stop himself in time, he adds, "You make a lot of enemies, ya know…?"
Seto runs his hands through his hair, and Joey can see the beads of cold sweat on his hairline. "Someone is trying to frame me for….for….." his voice trails off, and Joey sucks his lip sympathetically as he gets a good look at the full-blown horror in Seto's eyes.
"Kaiba. I know you didn't." Joey faces Seto's gaze straight-on. "I know how much this program for the kids means to you. You wouldn't do that."
Seto nods morosely, and Joey wonders if he imagined the soft, strained whimper he hears as Seto's shoulders collapse inwards. Seto shakes his head quickly, tousling his dark brown hair. "Wheeler….I don't know what to do," he says. "Someone managed to hack my credentials. I'd bet that's what whoever came to you found out."
Joey nods. "It looks like someone is using your credentials to manipulate the records at the Children's Sanctuary. And every time kids go missing, some money gets deposited into an account in your name."
"Good grief, Wheeler, keep it down," Seto hisses, his blue eyes boring holes into the back of Joey's skull.
"That's all I know, anyways. It didn't add up to me. You might be a major dickhead, but trafficking orphans? That doesn't sound like you." Suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands, he takes another sip of his beer, setting the mug back on the table with a dull thud. "What to do about it-geez, I dunno nothin' about computers, Kaiba. But I wanted you to know that you need to watch your back."
Seto's expression is cloudy and distant, and for a moment Joey worries that he is going to pass out over the table. Seto's thin lips steel into a grimace, and he pushes himself out of the booth, slipping a folded twenty-dollar bill from his suit pocket onto the table. "I need to go," he says hastily.
"Hey, hey, man." Joey stands to face Seto, reaching out to rest his hand on the man's shoulder; to his surprise, Seto flinches away from his touch, his bright blue eyes wide with anxiety. Joey feels a lump of pity rise in his throat as he watches the man before him dissolve into a panicked mess.
"Let me take you home, Kaiba."
Seto says nothing, folding his arms firmly over his chest.
More slowly than the last time, Joey reaches out, gently resting one hand on Seto's shoulder and guiding him towards the entrance. "I can do that much, at least. Let's go."
The orphanage has been gone for years, destroyed and replaced by subsidized housing for low-income families. But it stands before him now, with the sad little sandbox in the front and the razor-wire fence surrounding the perimeter, looking every bit as real as the day he arrived.
"Shhh. It's okay, Mokie." Seto wheels his head around, searching desperately for the source of the voice. His pulse quickens as he sees a skinny brown-haired boy in a blue sweater emerge hand-in-hand with a black-haired toddler from between two nearby buildings, guiding the younger child towards the sandbox that he currently stands in.
"As long as I'm around, you don't have to worry, okay, Mokie? I'll take care of you, just like dad did." The brown-haired child gives the toddler an affectionate pat on the back.
"I want to go home," the younger child whines. As they get closer, he can see that the young child's face is puffy and red, and the little kid's sleeves are damp with tears. "Why can't we go home, Seto?"
The older child's face hardens for a moment, and he pauses before responding, "It's just...it's better for us this way, Mokie. I promise everything will be all right in the end."
They reach the edge of the sandbox, and the older child lifts the younger one up, placing him gently onto the sand.
"I don't want to be here," the little child sniffles, wiping sand all over his cheeks as he rubs his nose with his sleeve.
Smiling kindly, the older boy scoots around so he is kneeling next to his younger brother, and scoops up a handful of sand. "We won't be here forever, Mokie," he promises. "And when we get out, someday, we can build a great big theme park where kids can live, and then nobody will ever be unlucky anymore."
Mokuba giggles hesitantly. "You can't live in a theme park, Seto,"
Seto smiles, scooping up a handful of sand. "Just you wait, Mokie. This-" he etches a wide circle into the sand with his index finger-"this will be the park, okay? And over here-" he molds a pile of sand into a crude dome-"here, we'll have lots and lots of rooms for kids to live in, so they have a place to sleep between riding all of my roller coasters."
He kneels down behind the boys to get a closer look at the young Seto's Kaiba Land blueprint in the sand. That day is forever burned into his memory-the day that they were abandoned at the orphanage by their extended family, and the day that he committed himself to bettering the world. Unconsciously, he reaches out to ruffle the toddler Mokuba's hair.
"Seto, help!" A stream of black smoke erupts from where Seto's hand touches young Mokuba's head. The young child's voice is strife with panic. Instinctively, Seto yanks his hand back, but the little boy's body continues to dissolve into smoke.
Apparently oblivious, the young Seto hums softly to himself, continuing his work in the sand.
"Seto!" young Mokuba's voice is a high-pitched, desperate sob. "Please! Please!" Seto watches in horror as the young version of himself continues to work, oblivious to what is happening to his brother. Mokuba has almost fully disappeared now, and the thick black haze hangs in the air like an ominous veil, obscuring everything in sight.
"Why won't you help?"
X
Seto's eyes burst open, and he finds himself sitting upright, heaving for air and covered in a cold sweat. The peaceful stillness of his bedroom, with the large potted plant in the corner and moonlight streaming in through open drapes, takes a long time to register. In his mind, he is still knelt beside his past self at the orphanage, as the only person he loves dissolves into thin air.
It could have been Mokuba. He shudders, pulling meekly at the covers that drape across his shoulders. Young Mokuba's terrified cries slowly fade, replaced by a dull but overpowering ringing that reverberates through his skull until he cries out in agony for it to stop. He clutches his comforter, using it to muffle the sound before he realizes that Mokuba is not here, and nobody is around to hear his own cries for help.
