Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Limitations ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Who owns YuGiOh? Not I, says the author. And that is too sad.

A/N: Wrote this months ago...fixed it just recently. I guess I needed the angst. It's always extremes with me...

Again, thanks to Moe for beta-ing. Also, thank you to those who took the time to feedback. Especially those who have reviewed my one-shots, which I can't reply back in the next chapter.

Completed: 2/12/04

Limitations

Humans made mistakes. They make mistakes over and over again, unwilling to do themselves the favour of letting go and derailing onto another route, another path that would better suit their lives. Instead, they travel the same road, passing the same warning signs, and still going straight when they should have turned left or right. They should have turned right.

It was the most stupid thing Kaiba had ever seen in his life, and he should know. He had been through a few idiotic mess-ups himself, but had managed to extricate himself just in time before the chains tightened, and Kaiba was lost under someone's control. This knowledge infuriated him, enraged him because he hated being reminded of his humanity. He could only do so much and live for so long on will alone before his body failed him. His flawed flesh and blood, his flawed mind that was capable of so much more than the rest, but never capable enough to reach that plateau. Would probably never reach the state of a machine.

Machines. Machines on the other hand were flawless in the sense that they did what they had to do and no other. They were never distracted from their purpose, their goal. They dictated their lives with millions and millions of lines of coding, never detracting from their assigned tasks, never travelling down one particular forbidden path, never allowing weaknesses to distract them. They were perfect that way. No distractions, no emotions, no unnecessary thoughts; just lines of coding that had programmed the necessary responses. They took in complex equations, compiled them in seconds, and outputted the answer in less than that.

If Kaiba was more perfect and less selfish, he would be a machine himself.

Except that he was imperfect. Except that he was more selfish than he had ever dreamed. He was selfish enough to want things he shouldn't, and keep things that weren't his. Mokuba was his little brother first; his, and will always be, but Mokuba was his own. To shelter and keep safe, yes, but he was not a possession that Kaiba could keep forever, unlike his various programs and systems. With Mokuba, Kaiba was prepared to let go -- had even been preparing himself since the day Mokuba had taken a side that was not his. It all came down to him in the end. To Yugi. The other Yugi. The interfering unknown that defeated what had been invincible and in turn, restored what humanity Kaiba had lost. Yugi thought it was the darkness that ate at Kaiba's soul, but Kaiba knew better. It was a metallic grey, and an unwavering focus that burned his heart and destroyed what he had always wanted to protect. He lost his way in his journey to fulfil his promise, and it twisted into something that was insane. Delirious and feverish with ambition, drunk on power and the position of having that power had put him in, Kaiba spun his web and nearly came crumbling down with Mokuba.

He supposed he owed Yugi for killing that thing and saving Mokuba. He supposed he owed Yugi for many things.

****

How would Yugi react if he saw all this? Kaiba thought with bitter amusement. How would anyone react?

Kaiba had an inkling the authorities would be contacted in such a situation, and he would be forced to bribe the ones in his service in order to make the charges go away. It was simply a no-win situation for all the involved parties, so Kaiba made sure the idea remained within his mind alone, and that he kept his small obsession hidden from the public eye. It was only a small obsession; tiny, when compared with his countless inventions and microscopic, in fact, when he took in account his own damaged psyche. Normal was no term he could associate himself; what made him think his rivalries were any different?

The large room he was in could only be accessed by one person: himself. It made him feel a little guilty for hiding the existence of the room because Kaiba had promised himself to be better for Mokuba, to never, ever deceive him again, but this was different. This was not something Mokuba needed to know; this wasn't important in all the ways that counted. He clutched to that concept desperately at times when he wanted nothing more than to be the brother Mokuba deserved, and sometimes it worked; it calmed him down, but sometimes it didn't, and Kaiba had to hide until he could regain his composure.

He stared at the blank flat screen, at the wide key console, and then said quietly, "Computer on."

The chair, standing just a few feet away from him, had been made and tailored just for him. The seat, the mobility and the backing had been made with thoughts of countless hours spent working in mind, and it showed. He walked, inwardly daring himself to just leave, but failing even as he took careful steps, like a drunk or an addict, towards the now lit screen. The computer had been programmed to scan the directories first before popping up a window for the Kaiba to confirm his identity. After, it would switch onto Kaiba's private system and reveal Kaiba's private files; all of which were labelled numerically with eight digits representing the dates in binary representation, and all of which had one theme in common: Yugi.

His lips twisted wryly, his mouth stretched as if to laugh, but couldn't quite make it, and his eyes were trained to the images that had soon popped onto his screen. Video files of Yugi's duels in his own tournament and in Duellist Kingdom, information document files gathered on Egypt and present Yugi, and Yugi's personal record were all displayed for his private viewing.

Kaiba didn't know what else to call this except obsession. It could only ever be an obsession.

****

The morning was dull and grey. Like every other morning, Kaiba ate his breakfast, made sure Mokuba finished the required amount of intake and bade him goodbye gruffly after Mokuba slurped his breakfast and gurgled his milk down, and they had finished the ride to Mokuba's school. He gave a half-wave when Mokuba reached the gates and then he settled back into his seat. His school was not far from Mokuba's; it was a small criteria among a long list of criteria when he had first enrolled them in the public education system, and it didn't take them long to reach the entrance of his school.

He briefly confirmed Henrich's orders before he stepped out into the chill. The crispness of the air hit him at once, and he shook his head a little, steeling his skin to accept and absorb and not feel. The cold had been the least of his concern once; when the burning pain of a single flame marked his flesh and the sting of leather and metal left hollow scars.

The air had never warmed, but Kaiba didn't feel it anymore. His mind might have closed and locked the crypt to his past, but his body remembered. It knew. On some days, he was grateful for it; his mind and heart was weak but at least his body wasn't. At least it knew how to defend. On other days, days when he burned and couldn't sate his need, he cursed its failings and its betrayals.

He was almost inside when the tinkling laugh reached his ears. He almost turned, just a little, but had managed to rein himself in time and now he was standing still, holding in his breath as he glanced too casually at a familiar face. The others next to him, he didn't notice. All he saw was Yugi. No, not his Yugi, he thought with a small disappointment. This was the softer one, the one with no sharp edges but strength in spades. The other had a certain appealing darkness that was otherworldly in its beauty, and yet, had always been human. He never knew for certain when that other Yugi would unleash it like the first unforgettable time and destroy the remnants of what was left of Kaiba's soul or when he would rein it in, and look at Kaiba with familiarity so touching, so gentle, Kaiba wished he had never seen it.

There was a small shift, an almost-awareness that alerted Kaiba to the change that had always taken place at countless battles and Kaiba knew he was looking at his Yugi. This Yugi must have noticed something his counterpart hadn't; the intense gaze that couldn't be hid and now he had come out of his shell to find its source.

Was he surprised by Kaiba? Kaiba couldn't be sure. The violent eyes that were now staring into his showed no emotion other than curiosity, and the face before him was completely bland. Casual. Kaiba had kept his expression much the same and allowed nothing to ever show. Not to this one. Never to this one. Yugi already had too much power over him; he refused to let him have anymore.

Kaiba was the first to break their stare down, choosing to lose in this test of wills much like he had lost so many times before. Fitting, he thought with a sadistic, but not uncharacteristic menace at himself. He was, and had been, many things; a fool was not one of them.

So he was the one who pretended it never happened, pretended it never was and never will be, and ended up walking ahead, unwilling to stay behind.

He was no fool.