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"You sure this is a good idea?" Yugi asked, shuffling a half-step ahead of Joey as they marched through the robustly busy lobby of KaibaCorp. Tower. "If he's busy, he's busy..."
"Busy nothin'. It's been like three months. He's the boss, y'know. An' like...I don't care about it, but you do."
When Joey stepped onto the lobby elevator, Yugi followed in spite of looking both ways. As if someone was watching, waiting, for them to make the wrong move. Except they were employees, with ID badges hanging around their necks, and no one was going to think anything of it.
"But he's only been back for two days. Roland said—,”
"Blah, blah, blah. Slide your card. Mine don't go up."
Hesitantly, Yugi swiped his badge and pressed the touchscreen for the Executive Offices. The doors closed, and they rode up in silence with Yugi rocking heel to toe, occasionally gazing up at Joey like he was about to ask a question, but didn't.
When the doors opened to the antechamber of the executive offices, Joey realized that they still had to get through the secretary. He expected to have to bluff his way through one or more tough broads, the kind that Kaiba kept as sentinels to his office, or there was a chance that Yugi could leverage...something. He was definitely the more personable one.
But no one was home.
Two desks, like guards, sat in front of the double-oak doors to Kaiba's office. The chairs were conveniently empty and, more importantly, the lights were dim, as though the whole place was running on an emergency generator.
"This is..."
"Maybe he's not here?" Yugi asked. "They could have just said he was back. Though I could have sworn I saw Roland in."
Joey clenched his fists. The darkness was only trumped by the utter silence on the floor. No phones. Or typing. Or fax machines or percolating coffee pots. Just a longing noise, followed by a loud THUD!—
—and then: "Fuck!" in a distinctly Kaiba-like voice.
"See?” Joey said. “He's here. Least...that sounded like him. I think. Just in case, you knock first."
"Why?"
"He...uh...likes ya more."
Yugi furrowed his brow. "I don't know about that exactly. But okay."
And Joey stood back as Yugi knocked. Internally, he oscillated between the overwhelming thought of a ghost inhabiting Kaiba's office, or Kaiba himself. He couldn't imagine which one was worse. At least he didn't care about a ghost, per se. That didn't mean it wouldn't eat his brain still, but if it was Kaiba? Then he'd have to explain why he convinced Yugi to do this. Or why they were here. Or...
...or it could be Kaiba's ghost.
His heart nearly stopped. He didn't want to imagine that, and the reason why confused and conflicted him so deeply he was frozen in place, even as Yugi pushed one of the large double-doors open. Kaiba being dead might be the absolute worst; he didn't know if he could reconcile or even understand that. He didn't want to, and he chose to shake the thought away. He'd rather Kaiba be in any other state than dead.
The truth was that no one had seen Kaiba since the space pod, or the elevator, or whatever the hell he called it, malfunctioned. Crash-landed. Appeared and disappeared. The fact was: there was no fact. No one knew anything. Not how or why, only that there were sudden flashes of light and blurs of color that happened faster than an eye could blink. And then nothing.
Hours upon days upon weeks of waiting for news about what had happened. Mokuba being interviewed, only to brush off the reporters while all of KaibaCorp’s PR department stammered through press conferences and continually deferred any bad news about what had happened to their president. And the longer it went on, the less the press conferences became. The less it was talked about. And, eventually, people forgot and moved on.
Joey hated feeling like he was one of the few people who actively thought about Kaiba at all. He shouldn’t have. From high school on, the rich prick had very little to do with him that wasn’t tertiary to Yugi or Duel Monsters. But he guessed, in Kaiba’s absence, he felt a little bit of something grow. A seedling of quasi-enamoured emotions that had existed deep in the pit of his stomach for a long time, but he never nurtured. Why should he? What shits did Kaiba have to give towards him, of all people? Especially when he was chasing the ghost of the Pharaoh?
That was about the only reason that he convinced Yugi along in the first place. While he seemed content with how everything had ended, and he’d made his peace with Atem and moved on, there must have been some fleeting curiosity that he couldn’t let go of. The reason that he stood in the doorway, twisting his hands in his lanyard while struggling to find words. His wide eyes followed something that appeared to move frenetically just outside of Joey’s purview.
“Is he…?” Joey began, buttoning down the question when he heard:
“Who’s there?” was asked in a tone that didn’t remind Joey of their haughty megalomaniac. It was small enough that he stepped forward to try and get a look past the long shadows cast from the floor to ceiling windows. There was a body, sure. Curled up, clinging to the desk like a lifeline. That Kaiba’s head was bowed was enough to give Joey conniptions. He hadn’t proved himself not to be some ghostly apparition yet, but he seemed pretty solid. Then again—Kaiba was the hologram king.
“It’s Yugi. And, um, Joey’s with me, too. We heard that you were…”
“Go. Away.”
Yugi went to turn, but Joey stopped him, stepping ahead and getting close to the desk. The entire time, Kaiba remained curled, his hands shifting inch by inch along the edge of the desk in search of something. And his head stayed bowed, though his ear turned towards them.
“I don’t hear you leaving.”
“‘Cause we ain’t.”
“No, Joey, we should go,” Yugi urged, grabbing his elbow.
Joey nudged him away. “We heard you were back in town an’ figured that we outta come see the boss. Y’know, since we’re good employees an’ all that.”
“Employees.” Kaiba scoffed, and his hands still crawled along the edge of the desk until he found the corner. Only then did he stand.
He was gangly. Moreso than usual, with his sweater pooled around his shoulders and pooched at the waist where he didn’t fill it out anymore. His slacks told the same story, with the belt cinched a few holes deeper than usual. It was hard to make out all the details; Kaiba wore all black, and the light was dim, save for what came through the half-drawn blinds and slats that seemed as uneven as the executive.
Joey nodded. “That’s right. Mokuba brought us on while you were gone. He said ya wouldn’t mind too much. We’re jus’…sponsored. Still though: employees.”
“And friends!” Yugi added quickly. “Friends who are checking up on a friend.”
Kaiba’s head rolled to the side, his cheek almost touching his shoulder. “Friends…”he said, slow, letting it roll off his tongue. Quiet. Bitter. Unsure.
“Yeah, Kaib’. Pretty sure we’ve known ya jus’ about as long as anybody.”
“Is that all it takes these days?” Kaiba asked, tepidly stepping forward. His body moved rigidly, as if it didn’t belong to him. He gripped the side of the desk so tight, Joey expected his nails to scratch the wood. “Knowing someone? You don’t know me. Neither of you.”
“We know—,”
Joey held his hand out in front of Yugi. “You’re right. Ya don’t let us get to know ya, but we’re here, anyways. That’s gotta be worth somethin’ more than nothin’. That’s what friends do.”
“The Pharaoh knows me. And I know him. Deeply,” Kaiba replied.
“But he ain’t here.”
“Joey…” Yugi murmured.
“So let someone else know ya deeply. Care about ya even.” Joey bridged the gap between them, and it was only when his footsteps got close that Kaiba tersely stepped back. Like a dance.
“It won’t be like him' Kaiba spat.
“So?”
“It won’t be worth it, either."
The fact that he refused to look Joey in the face was disconcerting. Like a demon hiding it’s form from an unsuspecting victim. The moment that he and Joey locked eyes, the blond would be sucked in Hell, and there’d be no return. The incubus would take him; who knew where Kaiba had gone in his attempts to break time and space? Joey was convinced he’d seen a movie like this before—he shivered, but looked back at Yugi who seemed as resilient as he was scared.
Neither of them wanted to be here.
But they had to be here.
“Kaib’…are you okay?”
Strained laughter dripped from Kaiba like it didn’t belong to him. He clamped his hand over his mouth and, finally, lifted his head.
Joey’s fists clenched tight.
There was no demon. Just a pair of once imperious eyes, deep and blue, that haunted Joey’s dreams and now saw nothing. They may have known they were looking at Joey, but they were lost beneath a milky, frosted film. He used to hate how Kaiba’s stares pierced him, but…
“Do you get it now?”
“Nah, Kaib’, I don’t,” Joey answered honestly. He had to make sure he remembered to breathe. He’d held onto it from the moment Kaiba showed his face, and when he released it to speak, he didn’t feel any better. “I don’t get it. No one knows what happened to ya, but me an’ Yug’ are here now. If ya wanna tell us what happened out there, we can—,”
“Stop it!”
“Kaiba…” Yugi squeaked, exasperated. “Joey’s right. We’re here to help. We want to know you’re alright.”
“You’re lying! You’re here to mock my failure. Go on! Go tell the world how worthless your ‘friend’ is.”
A loose wire. That’s what Joey equated Kaiba to. One that had run out of sparks, but was willing to electrocute you if you got too close. He didn’t know how to approach such a live wire while it was still clearly hot, and he struggled while he bit back his own feelings as they worked their way up from his stomach and wrapped themselves around his lungs, continuing to leave him breathless as he processed the literal damage that marred Kaiba’s face.
“Does it hurt, Kaib’?”
“Fuck off.”
“Joey…”
“Sounds like you're in pain. I know you’re stubborn as hell, but if you’re still hurtin’…”
A snarl, mixed with caustic laughter, twisted itself together in a mix that would haunt any man. Maybe there was still a demon inside Kaiba somewhere, but it was the sort that a lot of men carried with them. Something about messing with time and space might have messed with Kaiba’s head in ways that he couldn’t have predicted.
“Did…” Joey bit his lip, thinking about the least stupid way to word this. “Did…ya see somethin’ besides the Pharaoh?”
“No!” Kaiba slammed the flat of his palm against the desk. “No! Get out!”
And with a sudden burst of energy, the wobbly executive charged towards Joey. No fist was extended. No kick rearing up. The man had always been a twig, but he’d seen Kaiba’s reflexes in action. Still, he didn’t know how frail all of time and space had made him and, at the moment of impact, Joey embraced Kaiba tight, but not too tight. Just enough to stop him in his tracks.
Joey dug his heels in while Kaiba tried to bulldoze through him. There just wasn’t enough meat on the man’s bones. And the harder he pushed, the tighter Joey embraced. He didn’t have the right words to say—he felt like he hit the nail on the head, but there was no telling if Kaiba had seen some unspeakable, Eldritch horror unlike anything even a super-genius like him could comprehend, or just some abuse in his own life, played in front of him ad nauseam until it scarred his mind because the trauma wasn’t hiding it anymore.
Either way, his terror became palpable as he screamed into Joey’s shoulder, muffling the worst of the noise. And Joey patted his back. Gently. Tenderly.
“Yug’…I um…maybe you should…”
Yugi looked on in confusion. “Y-yeah.”
“I’ll meet ya later.”
“Sure. Whenever, make sure he’s…”
Joey nodded. “Yeah. I will.”
Once the door closed, the room dipped into semi-darkness. The overcast sky didn’t give much light through the uneven blinds, and Joey’s head swam as he tried imagining that Kaiba now saw nothing. Not even this darkness. It reminded him of all the times he’d put a book over his face and thought to himself that that must have been what it felt like to be blind. But, no. There was nothing. Just nothing.
Nothing, of course, except whatever the last thing that Kaiba had seen.
“C’mon, stop that,” Joey murmured.
They were in gridlock, with Kaiba unable to topple him. He wasn’t fighting anymore. Or screaming. His chest bobbed against Joey’s evenly enough. It was in the still that he felt Kaiba’s hand find purchase on his hips, his thumbs hooking into the belt loops on his jeans.
After so long, Kaiba asked: “Why?”
“I dunno.”
“Why?”
“I wish I could tell ya, man. I ain’t got any more answers than you do.”
Kaiba jerked, his thumbs catching on the belt loops until they popped out. He loosely wrapped his arms around Joey. If someone was looking on, they’d consider it a hug. And Joey liked to believe it was a hug, but that wasn’t important.
“Why?”
“‘Cause, I wanna care, I guess. So…I dunno what I can help with, but I think you’re stuck with me.”
“Hmph.”
He seemed to reassemble himself in Joey’s hold. Straighten his back, even out his feet, and lift his head up high enough that his chin rested on Joey’s shoulder like it belonged there. He didn’t think Kaiba was talking to him, the loss of sight made it easy to ignore the logic Kaiba so desperately hung onto at times. But if he thought he was talking to the Pharaoh, then Joey would oblige, though he’d have to do his best to sound otherworldly like Atem tended to. Enough to convince a broken mind, anyways. And it meant that he could linger, and comfort, and maybe the vine wrapping itself around his heart and piercing it with thorns would be satiated enough to stop the pain.
He kissed Kaiba’s cheek.
Would Atem do that?
Did Kaiba want Atem to do that?
He didn’t seem opposed, and squeezed Joey tighter.