I mentioned a couple chapters back that my Kisara is angry. Well, she's not the only one that gets underestimated, in my opinion. Here, we see the other. This is a different kind of scenario than I usually do, and I think it's important to explore different facets of anger and confidence. Cocksure arrogance. All that jazz.
There's a whole bunch of different ways to portray the same character trait, after all.
That's half the fun of it.
.
"Do you understand the task before you, boy?"
"No. A lot of what you've been saying sounds like nonsense. I didn't think you were like that. You're supposed to deal in cold, hard, truth. Aren't you? That's what Niisama always told me. The truth is cold, reality is rigid, and you're winter wrapped in a suit."
"Is that how he described me? Hm. It seems there was more poetry in him than I thought. Your Niisama is full of surprises, isn't he? But then, not anymore. That's the whole problem. That part of him is snuffed out. And that, my son, is why we stand together in this room today."
"I'm a lot of things. A lot of them, maybe even most of them, I'm not supposed to be proud of. Doesn't stop me from being proud. But one thing I'm definitely not, no matter what you think, no matter what anybody says, is your son."
"Well, perhaps that's true. In honesty, that's irrelevant. I care little for such sentimentality. But you're someone's son, after all, aren't you? And would you not agree that it is the duty of any good, dedicated, loyal son . . . to help his parent? When they've slipped? When they are broken? Is that not only fair?"
"I don't think that's fair, actually, no. Not really. It's the parent's duty to not slip and break in the first place. Are you trying to guilt-trip me into helping Niisama? Is that what this circus act is? If you really think that's important, if you honestly think you have to do that, I'm starting to wonder how smart you actually are. Did you pay that little attention when you had both of us? Get to the damn point."
"Do you blame your brother for failing, then?"
"No."
"What is the difference?"
"The difference is: he's my brother. He's already dealt with every goddamn adult in our lives failing him one way or another. And don't you go off thinking you aren't on that list. You're probably the worst offender, and considering the last assholes in charge of us robbed us blind, that's saying something. You're really talented at being a fuck-up, you know that? And anyway, if he can't be a good parent considering all the shitty parents he's had to deal with, the only examples he's ever had, you know what? I don't blame him. I'm not gonna. After a while, after enough garbage gets piled onto your back, expectations stop meaning jack shit, and your only job is to survive. He survived. I survived. That's it."
"In the end, I don't know how much of a difference that makes. I think you're just a hypocrite when it comes to your brother. I think you are deluding yourself. By every metric you have just laid out to judge me, your brother is just as guilty."
"Maybe. So? What are you gonna do about it? You barely know my name. What's my blood type? When's my birthday? What are my allergies, what's my best subject in school, how old am I? You don't know, you don't care, and you never have. Don't take critique from someone you wouldn't go to for advice. You couldn't pay me to care about your opinion."
"My, my. Such potential. I can't believe I didn't notice the first time."
"You can't?"
"All right, all right. I will cease dealing in hypotheticals: I have a mission that I want you to complete. The task I am aiming to have finished has proven more complicated than I have patience for, and I would have you be a . . . wrinkle in the tapestry, so to speak. You will be my agent. Perform the task I present to you, and you will be rewarded. You want to see your brother well again. Hale and whole, having shed himself of that damnable wheelchair in that cold, dusty room. I offer you the opportunity to see that done. Do this job for me, and he will be freed from all that. You will see your brother rise to heights you could never dream of seeing. You will be reunited with the man you admire. And, perhaps a sweeter deal, you will never see this face of mine again. I'm quite certain that must interest you, if nothing else."
"I guess. If you really wanted to make sure I never had to look at you again, you could've stayed dead. But if you can help Niisama, fine. People deal with bosses they hate all the time. I'm pretty sure the only employees of yours who actually liked you were the first ones we drove out. You're poison. This is just one of those situations where I plug my nose and dig through the shit because I have to. I do this job, you help him. That's the contract."
"Correct."
"I'll do it. I don't think I believe you, but I like the idea of helping Niisama before he helps himself. Yugi would hate it, and that's good enough for me."
"You are a spiteful little imp, aren't you? Perfect. Shall we get started, then?"
"Let's get this over with."
"When you come out of this ritual, you will believe that nothing has happened. You will be tempted to believe that you have been transported somewhere else. A novel trick, but nothing that could not be explained by drugs or a blow to the head. You've simply misplaced recent memories, is all. Surely. I trust you to remember that this will not be the case, and that you have a job to do. I've my doubts that this will be completed nearly as simply as my . . . compatriot . . . believes. But I do think you are capable. I think you can do it. Now, then, given that your eyes are already glazing over, I think we had best move forward. You clearly have even less patience than your brother. I can respect that. Come. Set yourself here."
"You'd better be telling the truth. I don't want to find out I've wasted my time with you. Niisama did what he had to do for my sake, dealing with you the first time. I'll do the same for him. But if I find out that it wasn't for him, and that you've fucked us over again . . ."
"I will pay dearly for it, yes, I'm sure."
"Keep underestimating us, old man. It did you so many favors last time."
