The day Kaiba came back to school was like any other, sunny, as it always was in domino. Students gathered in clumps, blocking off passage to any and all. Only when the now wheelchair ridden Kaiba came by did they separate.

"Let him through."

"He's a cripple."

"You're in his way."

They'd all say. God forbid they made his life any harder than it already was. They had it in their heads that he needed to be treated gently now, that no matter how rude he was, no matter how much of an ass he made himself to be, he was to be treasured, to be treated with nothing but kindness. I for one, could not see why that was.

He was still alive, he was still the same person he was before now, only with more out in the open. No one should have been treating him any differently, he sure as hell wasn't doing us the favour.

I for one gave him no special treatment.

He couldn't wheel himself around, with the one broken arm he required assistance, and it seemed that same girl from before was more than pleased to help. I noticed her more and more throughout the day. She was in the same class as we were, in the same gym, I hadn't seen her before, but I had heard her name, Hideyuki Ane. She was the principal's daughter. Why was she concerning herself with Kaiba?

It seemed every time I saw him she was around, but that could be for the fact that she was his helper. She may have only just switched into our class. Why was she suddenly in our lives? Why did she seem so cheery when the man we all knew turned out to be so fucking weak? Kaiba wasn't the guy we all thought him to be, yet she couldn't be any more pleased with this turnout.

It was just as these thoughts surfaced that I saw her peck Kaiba on the cheek, call him "dear".

That must have been it.

She had been allowed to date that guy because of her efforts, she had tried to stop him, this was how he was repaying her. This was why she was so happy. Then, how could she be pleased with this broken excuse of the person that Kaiba once was? Not even his fucking fanclub could be satisfied with him in this state.

Why did I find myself so angry at the mere idea of it? He was the pathetic mess he always claimed that I was. He was nothing to me, he was nothing for me to be concerned about.

I took my eyes off the couple, resigned to ignoring Kaiba's existence as thoroughly as I could.

After lunch, Kaiba and his girlfriend returned late. His cheeks were flushed a bright red, bloated slightly, as though he had been smacked by something. It was a sign that I should have taken more seriously, but for whatever reason, decided to cast aside. In comparison to his other injuries they were minimal. Who would make a fuss out of it? Certainly not him, for he did little to nothing about it. He didn't mention how it happened when others asked, he avoided talking about it. One would have assumed that he did it to himself. That's what I had done.

"Attention seeker"

That's just what he was called. When he wouldn't talk about it, when he refused any information, people believed that he had done it to himself, that he only wanted more of the attention that was left on him due to his "incident". Attention seeker, attention seeker, attention seeker, that sounded right. He had always been one for the spotlight. It wasn't much of a shock to think he had done yet another thing to hurt himself.

Maybe that's why none of us paid it any mind.

Yet I couldn't help but think, all was not as it seemed.

I went home after that school day with more questions than answers. Each one stacking up like building blocks, each one retaining a small section of my mind, distracting me from my job, and from my afternoon activities.

Why, why, why, why, why?

All these questions and not a single answer.

For the life of me I could not understand why he had done any of this. Why had he jumped? Why had he smacked himself? Why did he continue on? Why did he entertain her? Why did he allow any of this? Why was he doing this to Mokuba? Why?

It hurt me, mentally, emotionally. For years I had been subject to his abuse, for years I had been belittled, berated, and insulted by this man, a man whom I had assumed to be strong, proud, a man I assumed to be great, yet he turned out to be this pathetic little man. It upset me greatly. What had he been to me before?

Why did I care so much of what he was? Why did any of this matter to me?

Why was I asking these questions? I knew exactly why.

I just didn't want to admit it.