I glance around the room in an effort to relive my inherent boredom. Having finished my assignment for this class I have few choices of activities to amuse myself as I wait for the period to finish. In the end my eyes focus on the empty desk at the back of the class. That desk has been empty for the last month and I’m not sure if it’s occupant will ever return to reclaim it. No one seems to notice their absence nor does anyone I know lose any sleep over it and that bothers me for I know the truth about the person that so many have written off.

I don’t know if that is for the worse or the better or if it even makes a difference in anyone else’s life. I suppose that it does of course to some extent, but that’s not the kind of effect I mean. What I’m referring to is the effect that someone can have so totally on another, that they can change that person’s life. I know that I changed Yugi’s life when I awoke inside of him just as Jounouichi’s friendship also effects Yugi. Of course there are countless others that I could name but that’s not my point. I guess, that if I had a point, which I’m not sure that I do, it would be that there are some people in every person’s life that give them the support they need to continue on; the experience to evolve their own beliefs and ideas.

That, of course, brings me back to the empty desk. People brush right past it not thinking of the former occupant if it conjures any thought at all. I guess of course, that I should first explain myself before continuing further.

It was a month ago and just like today I sat in this desk staring off at whatever caught my fancy. On this occasion I was staring out the window at the rain. The water fell from the sky in lazy droplets, too frequent to classify it as a drizzle and too scattered for a downpour. It was just a typical, light summer rain for this part of the country. Personally, I find the rain infinitely interesting having experienced it maybe a handful of times in my previous life. I like the way the drops miraculously bring life to the land, making it green an beautiful when the clouds reside; how if forms puddles on sidewalks and streets and how it trickles down the glass panes of the windows when the eaves leak.

The class was as it normally was; the majority of students quiet while a few engaged in hushed conversations that went unnoticed by the teacher who graded papers at the front desk. It was no surprise when all heads turned to the back of the class at the sound of a ringing cell phone. Everyone knew that there was only one student allowed to have a cell phone on while in the school, for obvious emergencies only.

Surely enough it was this student who pulled out a small silver phone from his pocket, answering tersely. “Kaiba.” I was too far away to hear what was said on the other end of the line but I was close enough to see all the color drain from his face. And here I do not exaggerate. Kaiba was as white as a ghost by the time he closed the phone, and I thought I saw his hands shaking as he shoved it roughly into his pocket before rising from his seat. Disregarding all work on the top of the wooden surface and pausing only briefly to grab the handle of his briefcase before he made for the door.

Now, making an exception to a phone is one thing, letting students get up and leave the class without permission in this day and age is another. He paid the teacher no mind what so ever as he attempted to leave, an unheard of amount of disrespect for Kaiba. And, as anyone could’ve expected, they didn’t take to kindly to that, telling him, actually it was more like prohibiting him, from leaving the room. In another first this too was ignored as the teen headed out the door, steps not slowing in the least as the teacher rose from their seat demanding he return to the room or face suspension.

By this time the class had focused on the two, glaring at Kaiba through the other open door and the teacher from the front of the room as the other failed to slow, let alone stop.

“Don’t you walk out of here like that or when I get through with you you’ll wish you were dead.” Everyone knew the teacher’s threat didn’t hold water; it was practically impossible for any of the staff to come close to touching someone with as much financial and economic power as Kaiba had, yet that sentence stopped the other dead in his tracts.

Thirty some students watched, waiting to see how the stand off would unfold. Kaiba made the first move by twisting his head over his shoulder only to give the teacher the coldest, most heartless glare I have ever seen in my life. Something had changed in Kaiba’s eyes; they were devoid of everything, of any trace of feeling, as I have never seen them before. Not another word was spoken before he was again on his way down the hall, the teacher momentarily frozen from the glare just as I was surprised by it. By the time they recovered it was too late, Kaiba had already made his way out the front doors of the school.

This was inevitably followed by phone calls to the office and instructions for us to get back to work. However all it seemed that anyone managed to do was speculate as to why the teen billionaire would simply up and leave without an explanation or even the usual snide comment. Theories ranged from the obscene to the bizarre.

No one thought to look out the window as I did, and while they involved themselves in gossip I watched as Kaiba was soaked by the rain as it fell before swinging himself into the back seat of a black car which was gone just as quickly as it had came. He wasn’t seen for the rest of the day, though there were few who really cared about his presence.

It wasn’t until Yugi and I arrived home that the reasoning as to the CEO’s actions were revealed. As the two of us peeled off raincoats and untied shoes Surogoku sat in the living room watching the early evening news. I was ready to head up with Yugi to our room so that we could work together on some of the homework we’d received when I’d heard it. It was a short story, maybe only a minute or two in length, but that was sufficient enough.

“...Three children were critically injured bust the rest sustained only minor scrapes and bruises.” The newscaster continued from behind their polished desk as the visual shifted to show a wrecked school bus flipped over with a large pick-up truck smashed into one side. I glanced casually at the screen as I passed but I stopped dead when I caught sight of a familiar object.

As the camera silently panned the wreck of the bus one could see books and papers strewn all across the road. However, when they camera made a close- up on the remnants of the truck, aside from all the glass on the road, there sat a necklace in the shape of a Duel Monster’s card. The front was flipped open and one could just make out a brunette in the picture it displayed.

I knew then why Kaiba had acted as he did. Mokuba had been in that crash. There was no one else who had that necklace, no one else who could effect Kaiba like that. Yugi noticed what I did as well, coming to a halt beside me. We both exchanged identical worried glances before turning our attention back to the story.

“... Police believe alcohol and speed were both factors in this horrific incident.” The anchor then paused, receiving a page from the side of the set. “This has just come to our attention,” they continued, reading from the new page, “Two of the three critically injured children have now been listed in stable condition and are expected to make full recoveries.

As well, we have also learned that the third child is the younger brother of world-renowned business tycoon Seto Kaiba.” When I heard that I literally felt my heart sink. Mokuba was so young; he didn’t deserve this, nor did Kaiba who was so fiercely protective of his sibling.

I know I silently made a hurried prayer to the gods, in whom I still have faith even after all this time, that Mokuba would be alright as well. Yugi meanwhile picked up the phone, which hung on the wall adjacent to us, and began calling everyone we knew. In a short time an agreement was made that all of us would make a trip to the hospital together after school the next day to see how he was doing.

It all seemed so surrealistic to me. I just couldn’t imagine Mokuba with all his joy and laughter would get involved in something as serious as this. I think both Yugi and I spent the rest of the night thinking on this, I know for sure that I did. Even the house itself seemed to sag to that sombre note.

After Yugi had finally fallen asleep I rummaged through my things, eventually finding the money that I had put away and proceeded back downstairs to the phone quietly so as not to wake anyone. I dialled the number of the florist down the road where I put in an order for a bouquet of a dozen tiger lilies and a dozen blue gentians, knowing how Mokuba loved those two colours. I said that I’d pick up the bouquet the next afternoon.

I then made my way back upstairs. The rain had finally stopped and the sky had cleared, giving way to the blanket of stars that is so prone to covering this world at night.

With the light off in our room it was easy to see them even though we were in the middle of the city. Truly they were not as magnificent as the stars I had seen during many a night in Egypt, but they reminded me of that time, and, as I gazed out into the night I prayed to the goddess Nut in earnest, whose starred body stretched across the sky each evening. I asked her to watch over Mokuba and to keep him safe through the night. Also, I prayed to the goddess Sekmet the goddess of sickness and pestilence to spare Mokuba from her wrath. I showered her with the praise the temperamental goddess so adored in order to gain her favour so that she would heed my request. Finally I prayed to Isis, the wife of the god Osiris and mother of many other gods herself. I implored her to lend a hand in Mokuba’s recovery just as she had painstakingly searched for and put back together the pieces of Osiris’ body after he had been slain.

Grim image I know, but for me it’s a symbol of rebirth and hope. I know that, having passed through so many centuries my out-dated beliefs have no place in a world full of technology where one can see things smaller than a grain of sand. But I still honestly believe that there are gods watching us from the heavens, beings of power and intelligence. Yet, for all that they are still fallible, much like humans. I guess that would be one of the reasons that I prefer my gods to the perfect gods of this day and age. To me a perfect god makes no sense. A perfect god would’ve ended battle and suffering long ago. No, I believe that the inherent human nature governs nature just as humans themselves govern the earth and dictate to all other living beings. With the swipe of a pen an entire species can be annihilated, much like a mighty storm can wipe out a city.

I know that anyone could explain the natural occurrences, which cause the storm to form as a combination of winds and precipitation combined with the heating and cooling of the earth. Indeed, I don’t deny the existence of this. It actually makes sense to me, but I see the root of these phenomenons as being governed by the gods, a sort of rebirth of my beliefs if you may. I see my gods in the wind, earth and sun themselves. No longer do they control these things, I think that they are one with them, moving in an uncontrolled dance which science has quantified in order to explain.

The existence of the gods is as real to me now as it was 3000 years ago when I was the living embodiment of Horus, ruling Egypt. In a way, I actually think that I appreciate it more now. Back then I was surrounded in my religion; it governed every part of life down to almost the smallest detail. Now, with the exception of me the true Ancient Egyptian religion is long dead. Now that I look upon others I see how truly unique and beautiful it was, and how balanced and just it was.

There were very few absolute wrongs back then, very few people driven to violence and murder in the name of a deity. In Egypt people made decisions. The gods helped us in the right direction but their word was hardly absolute. In the end it was down to the individual to decide their fate. Religion was our strength and our ally neither a crutch nor a reason for violence.

However, I digress, after my little commune with gods, which I felt had been lonely for sometime, I went to bed. I did this with no hopeful illusions. 3000 years ago death was much more a part of life than it is now, anyone need look at a mummy to see that. It was as common as water in the Nile. People lived short lives back then, often struck down by disease or violence; everyone experienced a death during their life. That was just how things were back then. Even in the royal palace I’d grown up around death.

I don’t think the concept is as wholly disconcerting to me as it is to the others living in this time. I knew that there was a possibility that Mokuba could die if indeed his injuries were as severe as the news report had stated. Of course I didn’t want that to happen, no, that was the last thing I wanted, but I had no delusions about that possibility and what it might entail.

Yugi woke me the next morning with a smile, through I could see he put it on just for show. As well I could see the others putting on the same brave faces as they met the two of us outside the shop that morning. Although the sun was out in full force, bringing life to the formerly soaked earth, none of us really appreciated it as we should have. We had our own personal black cloud hanging over us instead.

It really wasn’t much of a surprise when we found Kaiba’s desk empty again. I think that was actually the first time we, as a whole, really and genuinely sympathised with the billionaire. No doubt that he had probably also put business on hold because of this, and I think we all saw that as a necessary act on his part. Even the teacher, the same one who had yelled at Kaiba yesterday, seemed to be in a sombre mood.

Of course, there were many others who didn’t care at all. This was not surprising of course. Many of the students only knew, or in more appropriate terms, detested, Kaiba. Mokuba didn’t mean anything to them, not like he did to us.

It seemed that the hours dragged on until the last bell finally rang. All of us met outside the front entrance of the school where I explained that I had something to pick up for Mokuba and would meet up with them at the hospital. The others seemed to have agreed with this and let me go off in the direction of the flower shop.

Running the whole way it didn’t take very long and soon I was in the doorway of the store; flowers everywhere one looked. Even then, faced with that overwhelming amount of beauty it was hard to be cheery, and unlike the others I didn’t even try. I’d seen battles and their repercussions in my time and the fastest thing we had back then was a horse. I shuddered at the thought of what damage two motorised vehicles could do when the collided.

I tried to push those thoughts out of my mind as I asked for my order at the front counter, surprising the lady with the fact that someone so young would spend such a large sum on one bouquet. And indeed it was a fair deal of money, which was why I hadn’t told Yugi about my order. I knew if I had that he would’ve wanted to pitch in. Now, in this day and age there is really nothing for me to do with my money, I’m happy with what I have. Yugi, on the other hand, should be saving for his future.

Thus, wallet emptied, I left the store flowers in hand, and made my way towards the bus stop that would take me to my destination. Unfortunately the bus was leaving just as I arrived and thus I was forced to wait another half hour to catch the next one. None the less I finally made it to the hospital and was given directions to Mokuba’s room from a very sympathetic nurse behind the reception counter. I knew the others had already got here for she made the comment that it was nice that so many people come to see him.

I followed her direction through identical, stark white hallways and up narrow stairwells until it felt like I was navigating a tomb and not an inhabited building. Everything was just so devoid of life I wondered how the patients managed to keep their sanity. Surely white was not the most cheerful colour; at least I didn’t perceive it to be. None the less I managed to make it up to the right floor without much difficulty before I headed for the hallway where I would supposedly find Mokuba’s room.

I knew I was right when I saw Anzu, Yugi and Jou waiting outside a room, yet something just didn’t seem right. When I approached I figured out what it was. Jou was sitting down in a chair and Anzu was next to him, both trying to get his nose to stop bleeding.

“What happened?” I asked as Yugi ran up to me, tears in his eyes.

“It was horrible...I mean it is but...” he stuttered, latching onto my waist. I took him by the shoulders and led him to the bench and set him down next to Jounouichi.

“What happened?” I asked again, this time getting a response for a far more emotionally stable Anzu.

“Mokuba’s in a pretty bad way. He’s still unconscious and he’s hooked up to all these machine and...” there her voice hitched and she sniffled before she continued. “We all came in to see him and Kaiba was in there, just typing away on his laptop and...”

“He gave me this!” Jou said angrily, gesturing to the blood dripping from between the fingers of one hand as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I did even do anything!” he added with a huff. “We waited for you to make sure you wouldn’t get beat up in there.”

Yugi sniffled and Anzu looked sympathetically toward the door. “He didn’t look worried in the least...” she trailed off. “It was like he didn’t care and was just there for show.” I could sense the hint of malice in her voice.

“Why don’t you three go down to the nurse’s station and get that looked at?” I suggested. “I’m just going to deliver these and then I’ll see you back at home.” I looked down to Yugi, who seemed to agree.

“Be careful in there man.” Jou warned once before the three headed down the hall.

I had a hard time believing what they had said. Sure, I believed the part about Kaiba giving Jou a bloody nose, what I didn’t believe was Anzu’s comment. I had been watching when he’d got that call; I’d seen his face turn stark white, and that was something that you couldn’t fake. I just couldn’t accept that Kaiba wouldn’t care about something like this.

Flowers in one hand, I concentrated on the inside of the room and slowly I felt my spirit depart my body, sliding easily and invisibly into the room. It was white just like the others, but this time it wasn’t the walls that bothered me. Rather, just as Anzu had said, it was Mokuba.

In a small bed in the center of the room he was barely visible from underneath the network of tubing, bandages and casts. I can honestly say that I have never seen anything more disturbing than that. Watching a child, whose face displayed more than a few cuts and bruises barely breathing into a machine is an image I will never in my life forget. To me that was the fragility of human life on display right there. That was what humans feared the most, severe injuries and lingering pain.

There too was Kaiba, just as Anzu had said; though I fear we saw two different men that day. For, as I stood there, invisible I did not see the cold and uncaring billionaire that Anzu had described. I saw the older brother. I was sure. For in front of me he was anything from removed and cold. His arms were folded on top of the bed sheets and I watched as he cried into them from his seat next to said bed.

Real tears, real, pained tears. I could hear him asking what he’d done to deserve this; what he’d give up if Mokuba would just make it through this. I saw the desperate hope he was clutching to and I knew why he had acted as he did before. No doubt he was trying to be strong as he always was outside and the others had probably seen it as insensitive. Some comment had more than likely set the brunette off, Jou not knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

Silently I slipped back into my body. I looked at the bouquet in my hand then at the door, knowing that I couldn’t go in there now. Thus I headed to the nurse’s station. Telling her to deliver the flowers to Mokuba’s room at the end of the day. She smiled and accepted the task.

All the way home the image of the two Kaiba’s fighting stuck in my mind. One fought for life, the other fought to be strong. That night I prayed once again to my gods, hoping that they would pay attention to one tiny soul after thousands of years of neglect.

I didn’t want to have stand by and watch one brother bury the other. All they had was each other and I knew that the loss of one could send the second out of control. I hoped that wouldn’t happen.

The days passed one by one and though we all worried about Mokuba no one wanted to make the trip to see him. Instead we’d take turns phoning the hospital. Day after day the message stayed the same. No change.

I never told the others about what I had seen that day, nor do I intend to. One shattered Kaiba was enough; I didn’t need to do the same to the other. After all, though they meant well, the ‘group’ didn’t have the best track record in dealing with the temperamental teenage billionaire. They tried, and I commend them for their efforts, but I don’t think that the pulls-on- your-heart-strings or the give-up-the-grudge-already approaches work with someone like Kaiba.

I don’t know, I may be wrong on this as I don’t even pretend to know Kaiba, but I think that it’s respect for who he is that gets one the farthest. I don’t think he wants people preaching their morals at him, nor telling him what he should feel or do. I just don’t see someone so proud and confident opening up to that.

Of course, I may never know if that’s the truth now. I continue to stare at the empty chair.

It was a couple weeks ago, and it was my turn to phone the hospital to check on how Mokuba was doing. The receptionist had got to know my voice and knew that it was me calling. I expected the usual ‘no change’ followed by a short conversation, but that was not to be this time. She asked me if I was sitting down, which I was, on top of the kitchen counter to be exact. In a sad voice she proceed to tell me what I had phoned to hear, but never wanted.

Mokuba had passed away last night. A blood clot had formed inside his brain and they weren’t able to get to it fast enough.

Both of us were silent for a few minutes. He was dead. I knew it could happen but I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that his sprit had left this world and never again would anyone be able to see his smile.

It wasn’t until she gave me the funeral information that it truly sunk in. He was gone and there was nothing that anyone could do to bring him back. No millennium item could breathe life into his body, no spell bring back his laugh.

I sat on the counter for a long time that day, not able to bring myself to tell the others. I knew that eventually someone would some and ask me, but all I could think about was how death had claimed someone else close to me. It seemed that death or sickness never came near me but one by one the people around me fell prey to it’s claws.

By the time I told the others I was numb enough not to break out in tears as they did. I tried to be strong; to be a shoulder for them to cry on; and cry they did, especially Yugi who had been really very fond of the younger Kaiba. I’m sure Kaiba crossed their minds through all this, but after that incident prior I didn’t think that they saw him grieving as much as I could feel he was.

I could think of nothing that would hurt the teen more than this, not a bullet, not a blade but love. Ironically enough, as contradictory to his nature, that was Kaiba’s great weakness. Once again I imaged him crying next to that hospital bed.

I wanted to tell him that there were people that he could turn to but I knew that wasn’t what was needed. I was powerless to do anything to help the brunette and I knew it. If Kaiba had ha impenetrable defences before this than now they would be out of this world. All I could hope was that he would be able to move past this eventually and not dwell on this loss as he had done so many others in that past.

I knew it was wishful thinking on my part but I really did hope that this wouldn’t be the thing that tore the other duellist into so many pieces that no one could put him back together again. What I didn’t know was if he was strong enough to even want that to happen, or would that not be the only Kaiba that would be buried this year.

I prayed that the latter wouldn’t come to pass. And to this day, as far as my knowledge extends, it hasn’t. Of course that doesn’t mean that Kaiba is any better. I don’t think that time has eased the case; for what I saw the day that Mokuba was put to rest has haunted my mind ever since.

It was clouded over that day, the sky dark and the wind cold as all of us headed for the cemetery. Again it had that kind of surrealistic feeling. As well we had to stop the car, which Yugi’s grandfather was driving several times because Anzu and Yugi continued breaking into tears. I could tell that this wasn’t helping Ryou, who had lost a sibling of his own and each time I took the two outside and reassured them so as not to make anything worse before we drove on.

Thankfully though everyone managed to make it through the ceremony. Though all of us, myself included, all almost broke down at some point. Kaiba however, was like a rock. He stood there, motionless through the whole thing with out any hint of an expression on his face.

I hadn’t expected anything different from him. I don’t think he could ever bring himself to cry in front of other people but I think I felt it from him, his pain. I could tell our grief was nothing compared to his but it wasn’t until after the service that I knew how very true that was.

After I had helped everyone to the car I decided to remain at the cemetery. I think Yugi’s grandfather understood my need to so, I don’t know why, maybe it was his knowledge of Ancient Egypt or just the fact he thought I would feel this way. None the less I walked along the graves in the black suit I wore stopping before the odd headstone as I made may way back up the large hill.

I thought about life and death and I wondered about both, silently adding prayers to the gods for Mokuba’s safe journey into the next world. I thought that I was alone, Kaiba having disappeared soon after the ceremony was complete.

That, combined with previous performances had the others convinced that Kaiba really didn’t deserve Mokuba. I knew Yugi didn’t feel that way, but I’d seen it in Jou and Ryou’s eyes. Both of them had siblings that they would do anything for, and I don’t think they took to kindly to Kaiba’s lack of emotion. I, on the other hand, thought he needed to get away. I was sure there were enough painful reminders for him to go back to that a little time away from everything that was so inherently Mokuba might help.

Thus, as I walked I wasn’t expecting to see anyone. As far as I knew it was late, dark and looked like it was going to rain. Who else but a reincarnated dead guy would be walking through a cemetery? I was to find that out as I made it to the top of the hill and to the grave with which I had started, one who’s upturned soil was fresh and damp.

There was Kaiba, leaning up against the back of the marble headstone. I held fast to my position behind a tree that blocked myself from his view before I once again stepped out of my body, taking a seat on the ground next to him. His eyes were rimmed with red and the tears rolled silently down his cheeks. Shaky hands grasped onto one necklace each and I saw the blood that still remained on the smaller one. The rain then started falling, soaking him and falling right through myself.

“Forgive me Mokuba, I failed you.” heard him say as lightning streaked the sky, neither of us caring. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do without you. I just don’t know what there is to live for anymore...” he trailed off into another lightning strike. “Would you even want to see me where you are now?” he questioned faintly, talking to the object in one hand. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this but Mokuba, believe me, I’m so sorry.”

It tore me apart to see him like that. I had never dreamed that he would blame himself for everything. I knew he’d feel guilty, but thinking he’d done something to Mokuba to deserve this? It was too truly cruel. He’d lost all the family that he’d ever had, with no real friends to speak of and armies of enemies after either his Corporation or his cash.

Never in my life have I wanted to comfort someone so badly; to show them that they’re not alone. But I couldn’t do it then and I can’t do it now. I wish I could as I stare at that empty chair, knowing that Kaiba’s given up on himself, forsaking school altogether to bury himself in his job in an effort to redeem himself that is only leading to his own self destruction.

I know, I’ve been checking on him invisibly now and then, acting as a guardian angel of sorts and I see what he’s doing to himself. I see him not eating and working all day because when he goes home there’s no one to run up and greet him with a smile. I see how he goes without sleep and sometimes just stares at the picture of Mokuba on his desk. And most of all I see him blaming himself for what happened, taking out each little error on himself, slowing destroying his body and his sanity, as if enough suffering could bring his brother back.

Believe me, were these normal circumstances I would’ve knocked some sense into him long ago, but they aren’t. You see, like Kaiba I’ve been hiding something from the world, something that not even Yugi knows.

I’m dying. I can feel it growing inside me, taking over each cell and weakening me day by day. I know that it won’t be long until it consumes me entirely and there will be someone else to bury.

I just couldn’t comfort Kaiba; I couldn’t put him through another loss. I couldn’t let him think that there’s someone there for him only to die. I already know the kind of pain I’m going to put Yugi and the others through and I refuse to add another name to that list.

All I can hope is that they all survive this blow; that when I’m gone things will eventually get better and no one will linger in grief for me. I wouldn’t want that.

I look out the window and notice that it’s raining. I can’t help it now, the rain always reminds me of his tears, like a stab to the chest knowing that as one of the few people he respected I had a chance to get through to him but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because fate has other plans in mind for me.

I guess it all falls into the hands of destiny as I sit here, slowly wasting away, soon to leave another empty desk. I just don’t know how long I have left, but I know I’m going to make this time count. I want to leave them with pleasant memories of me. I want at least one person to be able to look back on me and say that it was worth knowing me even for all the pain.