Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Bitter Reality ❯ Chapter 1

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yugioh, the game or the characters -- this is just an obsessive, fan-ish hobby and I gain no profit from it.

A/N: This idea was sparked by a conversation between Nenya and Miko -- and I couldn’t get rid of it. I had to get it out of my system, so to speak, and here it is.

Thanks to Moe for beta-ing.

Completed: 30 December 2005

Kaiba doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat. He drinks, though it's mostly coffee -- black, with two sugars. No milk, though Mokuba always insisted he should have some milk in his coffee. Kaiba disagreed, but never says no.

Now though, he takes his coffee just as it is. Bitter. Dark. The sugar leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and that too, is appropriate somehow.

Kaiba doesn't really have a preference. He never did. He just went with what was most useful. Mokuba likes to have preferences. Likes to ask Kaiba what his were too.

That stopped months ago.

He works. He stays shut inside his lab, orders that he not be disturbed, and leaves KaibaCorp to his assistant -- newly chosen for this purpose -- and just as temporary. He doesn't plan to be away for long. It's only just until he can get it working.

The first thing Kaiba does after the funeral is to fine-tune his holographic programming. His designs are flawless and his dueling disk system ranks in as the number one gaming system, but it's not enough. It's not enough to bring to life wild, powerful creatures, giving them characteristics no moving images can have. It's not enough, not when they rely on limited behaviour, limited, predictable movements.

To create actual artificial intelligence is another thing entirely -- and one which is crucial to Kaiba's need. If he doesn't succeed, if he can’t make it work, then... Kaiba doesn't want to think about it. He can't. Failure, in this case, is not an option he can contemplate. Failure means more than a flawed design, more than a loss in time and money.

Failure means death.

Fate is a bitch, Kaiba had always thought.

Fate had taken away his parents, had left him and Mokuba in the hands of unreliable strangers and compassionless relatives; and then, fate had given them Gozaburo.

Then, just when Kaiba thought he'd finally sorted out his issues -- just when Kaiba thought they'd gotten some measure of peace, fate took away the one person he loved and needed beyond measure. Fate tore away a part of his soul, his heart, and left behind a black, gaping hole. Kaiba didn't know true pain until a fatigued truck driver lost control --

should never have happened

should have been there

should have died too

should have been me

Should have been me.

Kaiba works. He works because there's nothing else he can do, and he doesn't want to remember. He doesn't want to forget, but remembering distracts him, hurts him, makes him bleed, and he needs to focus. He needs to work, he needs this project to succeed.

He needs.

And he's close. So very close. Within the next month, weeks even, and he can rest. He can close his eyes and sleep and wake up to Mokuba's face.

It's all he ever wanted.

The funeral had been beautiful. The sky, a silvery blue, the sun casting a golden sheen that enveloped the earth. The wind had chimed soothingly, brushing against cold skin.

Kaiba had stood for as long as he could while the priest said his words. He spoke soon after, soft, cracking words that didn't want to leave his mouth. He spoke sparsely, because he didn't have have the will for anything more, and he stopped shortly, because there were no words that could describe what Mokuba had meant to him. Still means to him.

When the casket started to lower, Kaiba had turned away.

There is no God.

Kaiba doesn't want empty condolences or sympathetic looks. He doesn't want false words of healing or empty promises of how it would get better, you just need time. He doesn't need it. He has his project, his one desperate chance to get back what should have never been taken away from him --

He works.

He shuts himself inside his lab, studies his coding, his design. Allows for unpredictability and works to ensure the essence of Mokuba isn't gone.

He works, the aftertaste of sour bitterness lingering in his mouth, and his mug of coffee never empty. The caffeine works through his system like a drug, clearing fogginess and sharpening his mind, until he feels a slight tremble in his hands, and then he knows he will crash hard.

He will fall into his seat, eyes closing in exhaustion as his body shakily slackens in slumber. He will sleep deeply, dreaming of Mokuba, and he will wake with a start, calling a name that will never be answered.

But for now, he ignores the tremor along his arms.

He works.

Success is measured with each iteration of each cycle. The conceptual cycle, the design cycle, the prototype cycle.

For Kaiba, the word success never enters his thoughts until a prototype is completed. Until impossibility turns into certainty, and all that is left is to test it. He takes a step back, looks at the small, circular disk -- no longer than two centimetres -- and then reaches out to touch. Gently, he presses the button underneath and waits for the program to run and connect to the database Kaiba has created and copied onto KaibaCorp's main system.

An image appears, flickers, strengthens, and Kaiba is finally looking into Mokuba's face.

The hologram looks at Kaiba and smiles. It says, big brother!

And Kaiba thinks: I have him back.

Kaiba has the disk clipped onto his card necklace, just beneath the surface. He turns it on every morning, waits for the program to run, and then looks into Mokuba's smiling face.

Good morning, his little brother will say. Are we going to KaibaCorp?

Kaiba will say yes and listen attentively as Mokuba persuades him to have a full breakfast. Kaiba will disagree, but he never really says no, so they will go downstairs and into the kitchen. He will walk slow, even though it is unnecessary, and Mokuba will trail behind him soundlessly. There will be only one set of footsteps.

Mokuba will chatter about a wide range of topics as Kaiba prepares breakfast for two. He will eat, and Mokuba will convince him to drink coffee with milk and two sugars. Kaiba again disagrees, but Mokuba will insist, and in the end, he will have coffee with milk and two sugars. Bitterness lingers on his tongue, but he can barely taste it.

When Kaiba finishes, he will put one empty plate into the dishwasher and throw away the food on the other. Then, when the utensils and plates are inside, he will turn on the automatic timer.

They will leave in one of his many cars; Mokuba will pick the red one and they will arrive at KaibaCorp fifteen minutes early.

His employees will avoid looking at Mokuba.

Kaiba will ignore them.

Mokuba will trail behind him soundlessly.

Kaiba will work until Mokuba convinces them to go home.

Then, he will go to bed and forget to turn off the disk. The program will automatically go on standby after three hours and Mokuba will dissipate. When Kaiba wakes in in the morning, he will have to turn on disk again to see Mokuba's face.

Good morning Seto, his little brother will say. Are we going to KaibaCorp?