Chapter Text
Saying goodbye to your friends isn’t the easiest thing in the world. But with the crazy few years they’ve had, nothing they ever did was easy.
Joey stood by at the airport with his friends, all standing by to give Tea her big send off for America. He remembers seeing the melancholic sting in Tea’s expression, and tried to counter it with a big, over-head high five. It earned him an unamused scowl at first, but the laugh that came afterwards told him that it was a necessary evil.
The gang stood and gave big, arching waves as her plane took off for New York city. Joey joined Tristain in the enthusiastic waves, his chest swelling with bittersweet pride for a dear friend. Everything they accomplished, all the people they’ve met and helped along the way, lead to this. To their achievements, their goals, and a new hope for the future.
Joey had always planned to continue his dueling. He was going to make a name for himself, and maybe one day he would accomplish just as much as Yugi and Atem had.
Little did Joey know, as the plane became a mere speck in the sky, that the slow corrosion of their rag tag team had begun.
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Joey sat daydreaming at his desk, his head resting in his hand with a lazy lul of his eyes. To think, it had been 7 years since Tea had left their world, and stole the heart and soul of their group with it.
He used his thumb to flick idly through mounds of paper, his mind wandering back towards the past. To the days of card games and meeting zany new people. Nowadays, he’s lucky to meet a new intern. If Yugi could see him now, he’d most likely give him a light scolding, telling him to focus on his work.
But it’s no good, the thought only fills him with a deep, lethargic heaviness. The fact that’s sitting here now, lumped with the unwanted paperwork that needs shredding for the big boss at the top while he’s sweating his pits off in a suit, is just evidence that he failed to reach his dream.
He gave the duel monsters gig a good go. He started off as a pretty hopeful duelist in fact. There were people who already knew the name Joey Wheeler. But time wasn’t kind to Joey, and neither were the bills. As the card game evolved, Joey was just one step behind, and failed to keep his title afloat. Even getting a top 5 ranking isn’t enough anymore. No more were there grand prizes up for grabs, no tournaments that he could outlast in. Soon enough, the tides of change swallowed Joey up, and he was left to flounder.
It could have been worse though, he could have become another Bandit Keith.
He gives a distracted groan of deflation, staring at the blurred black and white of the documents he’s sure are very important to someone that isn’t him. He rests his hand on top of them, drumming his fingers on top.
He doesn’t have anyone here anymore. Or at least, nobody except-
Joey’s thoughts are suddenly crushed, along with his lingering hand, by a new stack of documents crashing down on him.
“YOWCH!” Joey yells, retracting his hand and watching as the paper tower topples.
“What’s the big idea, Kaiba?! I oughta sue you ya know!” Joey shouts, protectively holding his hand.
Kaiba towers over Joey’s desk, an icy cold glare raining down on him. A warning look.
“I’m impressed, Wheeler. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone struggle to use a shredder. Do I need to add this to the list of unpaid training I should be putting you on?” Kaiba remarks.
Joey gives him a scoff. Out of all the people he turned to, Kaiba would probably be his last pick. He knew that the whole “sueing” act was an empty threat. Probably because he’s used it at least 20 times by now.
He remembers approaching Kaiba’s office on that day, downtrodden and defeated. He was desperate to pay the bills and hell, survive at that point. It was a hail mary shot, which somehow landed him this position. Albeit, a very tedious and redundant position, but who was Joey to complain?
But he remembers how smug Kaiba was, to see him prideless with his head hung low while he called him a whelp of a man.
It wasn’t ideal, but it was working.
Joey grabs a handful of the paper stack, slouching over the shredder.
“Y’know Kaiba, for someone who’s all tech savvy, inventin’ duel disks and holograms and all, you’d think you wouldn’t need all this crummy paper.”
Kaiba raises an eyebrow, leaning over the desk with his hand on top of the now disheveled paper stack.
“Really? Because this paper’s the only thing that’s keeping you a job.” He says, with a threatening edge to his words.
Joey pouts, retrieving the paper from the floor and feeding them into the shredder.
“Yeah yeah, whatever! I got other stuff I do around here! I’m basically your maid for one thing!” He argues back.
“And with the state that your office is in, anyone would find that hard to believe.” Kaibe retorts, leaning back off from the paper.
“I have a meeting in half an hour. If you value what you have, clean up this mess.”
Kaiba doesn't give Joey an opportunity to respond, as he walks out of Joey’s little work space.
Joey curses under his breath, watching as the paper is fed through, disintegrated one by one into little shreds.
Stupid Kaiba.
He wonders why he even bothers most days. He knows that Kaiba belittles him all the time. And he quite frankly just gets on his nerves.
The rhythmic, grating noise of the shredder causes Joey’s mind to wander again. Back to the past. Back to the good old days.
Back before Tea left for America. Before poor Grandpa Muto’s funeral, before the card shop got sold out and turned into some law firm’s office.
Back when things were good.
Chaotic, but good.
Joey can’t contain the thought anymore. He needed to stop feeling like this, he needed to stop the feeling of grief.
And it was then that the idea sparked in his head, like the first sparks of a flame.
He’s going to get the gang back together.