No reply


Warnings/notes : Seto/Joey, slightly weird, hints at alcohol abuse, bad language, ooc.

Disclaimer : I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. The song 'No reply' is taken from the anime 'Cowboy Bebop', words by Tim Jensen.

written at 14th december 2003, by Misura


/Like the perfect ending
It won't be too long/

He was drunk. The fact that he couldn't count the amount of bottles that were scattered all over the floor of the apartment proved that. Oddly enough, he didn't feel very happy. Perhaps another glass would fix that though.

Or maybe not. He sighed, feeling depressed. Staring at the mess he had made of his life nearly made him physically ill. Unless that too came from the alcohol. Wasn't that stuff supposed to make one forget anyway, to allow an escape from reality?

It wasn't fair that it didn't work that way for him. He longed to forget, wished to grasp the sweet forgetfulness, to sleep unhaunted by dreams and memories. But, apparently, he wasn't going to get that this evening.

/Till everything I've ruined has seen me gone
In time, I pray you'll forgive me/

Rationally, he knew he might as well stop poisoning his body. Perhaps if he did so, he might even manage to pick up some of the pieces of his life, make afresh start, meet new friends, get a job ...

He had told himself that too many times now. It never worked out. There was always something that sent him spiralling downwards again, reminding him of what he had had, what he had lost. Nothing and no one could ever replace that, so why would he bother trying?

There were people who still believed in him, who would want him to keep fighting, but it was too hard. They couldn't understand him, no matter how hard they tried. They simply didn't know what it was like, to lose someone so precious to you. He hoped they never would either.

/Now you know the man I am
Can you forgive me?/

He didn't remember opening another can of beer, but he wasn't going to let it go to waste by not drinking it. What did one more matter anyway, next to the six he had already downed? Leafing through the phone-book (when did he grab -that-?) he sought for a number.

It wasn't there. Naturally. How like -him- not to have his phone-number listed in such a public place. Still, he really needed to tell the other something. What, exactly, had slipped his mind for the moment, but he was sure he'd remember when the time was there.

Thinking for a moment, he pulled out a thin booklet from under the phone with a triumphant grin. Of course! He should have recalled that being there sooner. It was just that his mind seemed a bit fuzzy right now. Ah well, never mind that.

/I fall
Like the sands of time/

His fingers trembled slighty as he punched in the numbers. He suddenly felt nervous, no longer sure if this was such a smart thing to do. It had seemed a good idea when it had popped up in his head, only ... wel, his head wasn't too clear currently.

If this phone-call would ruin what he had hoped to accomplish, he would never be able to forgive himself. He had done more than enough damage as it was, in never being there when his presence might have helped.

Maybe he should hang up now, end this conversation before it had started. Perhaps it was better to have this talk when he was sober and not -

/Like some broken rhyme
At feet no longer there/

Too late.

"Seto Kaiba." The voice on the other end of the line sounded annoyed. Nothing new in that. He shouldn't feel offended by it, shouldn't sense that hostility as being directed at him personally. Although there were days when he felt like he deserved it.

"Who is this? I haven't got all day." No, he imagined Seto Kaiba was quite a busy man, practically leading a major corporation single-handedly. Not a person who had much time for silly little things like being in love or spending some time with a friend. If he had any friends at all, that was. Seto Kaiba didn't exactly have the reputation of being social.

/If only I could call the rain to melt and wash away the pain you feel
I would/

"My son's in love with you." He wondered why he was whispering the words, as if they were a shameful secret he wasn't supposed to pass on. "My son's in love with you, you bastard, and all you ever do is make his life hell! What kind of sick jerk are you?"

"Listen, Mr. Wheeler ... I really don't have the time for this." The tired politeness surprised him somewhat, as did the fact that the other apparently had recognized him. Or, more likely, had recognized the number that belonged to the caller, shown on the screen of his cell-phone.

"The least you could do is being civil. Or just ignoring him, I don't care. What's so hard about that, huh, Mister CEO? Do you get off on ruining other people's lifes? Do you think it's fun to toy with my son's heart?"

/You gave yourself to me and showed me what the truth could be
For that, I say thank you/

(Kaiba blinked, staring at the phone in his hand without a single clue on how to reply to those accusations. His first impulse was to hang up, end this conversation that would gain him nothing anyway. The man was obviously drunk. His words therefore could safely be ignored.

Aside from that ... he turned his head to look at the person lying next to him, who was studying him with hazy, honey-brown eyes, that showed a sparkle of curiosity. "Who is it? Mokuba wanting you to come and chase the monster that's hiding under his bed?"

Kaiba shook his head, with a slight smile. "Not this time. It's your father, yelling at me for not noticing you have a crush on me."

"You've got to be kidding me.")

/This was my life
It never made much sense to me/

Seconds crept by without a reply. And he was beginning to feel rather silly too, starting to doubt if Joey would really appreciate him doing this. Regardless of appearances, he did care about the boy. He had intended to help him by making this call.

Yet there was that saying about the road to hell. He had said what he had wanted to say, so now he might as well hang up and put an end to this useless conversation. It was very unlikely he'd be able to change the mind of Seto Kaiba, high and mighty CEO of Kaiba Corp. after all. He meant nothing to the man, probably even less than that. Much less than Joey, at any rate.

Who hadn't even called a greeting as he had come home this afternoon. Or had it been evening already? His memory was a bit sketchy on the exact time of Joey's arrival. Not that it mattered much. The only thing that did matter was that Joey was safe and sound asleep in his room right now. And he wouldn't let anyone hurt his son.