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Innocent Guilt	By : ShadowSanctuary Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2112 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Four: Cry of the Valkyries
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�Big brother�� Mokuba sobbed.
�Brother, my brother��

�What about �im?� someone else
asked, his tone etched with slang, harboring the appeal of an accent born and
raised in the Bronx.

�He�s not gettin� up, not bouncin�
back like he always does.�

�So?�

� �So?� � squawked
the boy on the floor, �What if he�s dead?�

A long, heavy sigh resounded, exposing a careless mannerism
of the owner.

�He�s not dead,� explained the other male, sounding as if he
were rolling his eyes and being sarcastic at the same time. �he�s
just waitin� for th�
referee ta throw him back in da
game.�

�But he�s bleeding!� protested the child.

�He�ll be fine.�

�But, but--�

Calmly, the New York drawl repeated, �He�ll be fine. Just fine.�

�How do you know that?�

� �Cuz
he�s breathin�.�

�Really?�

�See for yourself.� replied the youngster�s amigo, remaining
Zen garden tranquil under the circumstances.

Briefly, there was an intermission of sound. At last, the
younger boy spoke, affirming the diagnosis to be true.

�You�re right!� he declared, excitement flaring in his words
like a firecracker, �He is! His chest is moving!�

Snorting, his buddy said, �Told ya he�d come around.�

�So he�ll really be okay?�

�What�d I tell ya, man?�

The answer came out more like a hesitant guess than a
solidly known fact. �That he�s alright?�

�Right on.�

�Honestly?�

�Dude, it�s like I keep sayin�,�
retorted the Bronx twang. �the man�s gonna snap outta this. Sooner or later, he�ll wake up an� everythin�ll
be like it was before. Trust me.�

�Word of honor?�

�Word of honor.� pledged the flunky of English class,
pronouncing his syllablraduradually, practically taking forever to form a
half-decent statement. Adding on to his previous avowal to seal the deal, he
swore, �Ya got my word now, Mokuba.
I always keep my promises, just like a Wheeler should-Joey Wheeler, ta be exact.�

For some reason, the name of my
prime nemesis snapped me back to reality. Jarred into a state of unreal
consciousness, I worked my jaw, moving my lips until I was capable of
constructing literate dialogue. First, I felt a buzz in my throat, then the
familiar vibration of speech rattling my teeth. Finally, my tongue was coaxed to finish the last steps of communication. It
rose from the dark crevice like a cobra, lifting slowly to the roof of its
basket, ready to strike the unwanted guest. True to the manner of a serpent�s
flickering fork of flesh, I lashed out with a toxic phrase, biting Joey as hard
as I could.

�Get the fuck out of my house.� I ordered,
my brash authority conflicting with drunken slurring.

My sibling interjected with untainted innocence, an
attribute that I normally loved and adored, but hated to witness during
sitons ons like these.

�Why would you make him do that?�

Lifting my upper lip in a snarl, I snapped, �Because I don�t
allow child predators inside of this house.�

�Told ya he�d be alright.� Wheeler
threw in rudely

�al>�Nobody asked for your medical opinion, Doctor Dumbass.� I countered.

Evidently, my devious plan didn�t have the desired affect. He went on smiling at me, a
huge ear-to-ear smirk that I dreamed about tearing off his face in my spare
moments. As I glared at him, he gave me a sugary sweet look, one I despised
seeing more than his usually dorky expression. I could see his big mouth
opening, a pitfall of grammar and intelligence expanding, trying to speak to
me, and there was nothing I could do to shut him up.
If I wasn�t in such a deplorable location, I would
have already jerked him up by his flimsy strands while kicking his ass over my
gated property. Oh, what an entertaining sight that is in my mind, this loser
strung across the barbs of the fence, blue eyes bulging like a cartoon who had
an anvil dropped on him, a point of the metal accessory going up his backend as
he howled in harmony with the surrounding dogs of the neighborhood.

�Lovely.� I murmured to myself, attracting the attention of
a dear friend and foe, �Wouldn�t that be just lovely.�

�What is it?� the village idiot queried, his features
sketched in deranged alignment.

Shaking my head, I placed both
palms on the tiles, hoisting my body into a sitting position. Mokuba didn�t support me, namely
because I have admonished his past streaks of helpfulness. I figured that if I
could run a company, be an honor roll student, invent new technology to
obliterate my competition, and rear a minor, I wasn�t
in any dire need of assistance. He retreated from me until he was beside my
rival, indigo orbs tracking every movement made, torn between racing to give me
a hand and obeying my requests to mind his own business. Thankfully, he stayed
where he was, providing me ample space to do as I pleased. The only one who didn�t understand my stubbornness was Joey, who bounded
towards me so clumsily that I believed he was a Saint Bernard in his last
lifetime.

�Here,� he said, offering me an outstretched limb, �lemme just--�

Instinctively, I smacked his hand away, eager to see him
hurt by the gesture. Much to my amazement, he shrugged off the callous action,
chalking the encounter up as an everyday reaction to fd frd friendliness.

Making certain that he would never dare to venture near me
again, I threw at him, �Go take your fleas for a walk and leave me the hell
alone. There�s a Petsmart three blocks from here that
treats infestations like yours, but I doubt that you have the money to pay for
the vaccination.�

Joey took my blatant hints,
recoiling from where I was, assuming his earlier lackadaisical pose. Unable to
resist the sadistic urge, I mirrored his conventional simper, cocking my lips
at such a sharp angle that he flinched. My triumph lasted a precious few
seconds before the ghetto freak burst my balloon, a bright, beautiful bubble
that leaked helium tanks full of pride into the air.

Turning to my sibling, he inquired dryly, �And this is
supposed ta be my thanks for bringin�
ya home t�day?�

If there was a bastard who knew how to push my buttons more
than him, I haven�t met the person yet. Rage poured
over my face, exploding inside of my chest like a
nuclear weapon fixed on destruction.

Past the human summit of anger, I growled, �Who gave you the
divine right to take my brother anywhere?�

�Who gives ya th� right ta
abandon him at school?� Joey fired right back.

�What are you talking about?� I cried. �I�ve never done such
a thing!�

He arched a brow doubtfully. �Never?�

�Never.� I stated
proudly.

Laughter erupted in the room, a
repugnant sound that intensified the ambiance of our mini brawl. I couldn�t
stand being snickered at, much less having some airhead son of a bitch laughing
at me--outright laughing at me--in my own home. Has the dung beetle completely
lost his mind? Nobody does that to me. No one has the influence to commit an
act like that in front of me here. Doing that as boldly as he had done,
virtually in my face, I reserved the opportunity to kill him. I wanted to take
him to a swamp teeming with locusts and yellow fever and malaria, have him
catch about twenty different diseases, beat him at my leisure, then pull his
corpse intolimylimy grave. Anything, I would have done anything to silence him.

�What�s your problem?� I snapped nastily.

�You�re so funny sometimes.� he
answered nonchalantly, taking my expression of fury for granted.

�Meaning�?

�Ya think you�re so goddamned
perfect or somethin� but ya
don�t even know the damned date.�

�It�s the fourteenth, a Sunday.�

�Nope, wrong answer, lose one turn.�

�Yes, it is.� I shot back, gritting my teeth together,
internally wondering where his cheeky, asinine thoughts came from. �It�s
December fourteenth.�

�Nu-uh, stilbit bit off.�

Losing control of my composure, I shouted at him, �The only
one who�s off is you, Joey! Don�t you
ever know when to shut your trap?�

�No,� confessed the blond canine, �but it�s not like you do,
either.�

�Where do you get the balls to say something like that to
me?�

He produced a careless shrug. �I dunno,
let�s ask him.� he suggested, moving his head to the
left, the same direction as-

Mokuba switched his weight from
one leg to the other restlessly. �What�re ya tryin� ta prove, Jou?� he questioned nervously, shifting his gaze from
Wheeler�s visage then to mine.

�Yes,� I snapped impatiently, �what the hell are you trying
to prove?�

�That you don�t know the date.�

�So freaking what? What�s so special about the damned date?�

Ignoring me, he poked my sibling with his elbow and asked,
"Where were ya 'dis mornin'?"

"Not any place fun." he quickly divulged.

"And...?" Joey pressed.

For
someone turning sixteen, the teenager had as much determination and will power
as I did, but I'd never admit to complimenting him.
There were so many pack rats adding to his ego, little friends that boosted his
confidence that made me decide against complimenting him. He does not need anymore praise--especially noom mom me.

"And I don't like comin' home
an' talking about it."

"Why?"

I narrowed my eyes at my downcast relative. "Mokuba?" I called,
perturbed by his lackluster responses. &quoat'sat's going on?"

Once more, he raised a shoulder and dropped it back down,
indicating that he would rather choose the Fifth Amendment over speaking.

An insane idea popped into my head. What
if the morbid mutt had done something awful to Mokuba?
There were so many criminal charges that could be brought against people these
days, like theft and assault--he was, after all, a gang
banger once upon a time--and rape and child molestation--

Jerking my head towards Wheeler, I snarled viciously,
"What did you do to him, Gabriel?"

As he jumped back, I rose from the
sticky surface I was against, steadying myself with a hand on the wall. Some
dried blood had attached itself to my temple, but I didn'tan> an>
wipe it off. The crimson river gave me a more savage, animalistic look,
something that worked out to my benefit in predicaments like these.

God help you if you let any sick notions become a
reality. I thought furiously. Pray for mercy on your sorry excuse for a
soul if you did somethingst ost one single thing to hurt him.

Face-to-face with the enemy, I held
my ground, doing my best to stay regal and sophisticated under the mounting
stress levels. His hazel eyes returned my icy glare, reminding me of the spell
of wizard's fire clashing with a sorcerer's arctic magic. Flames melted into fn
tn
tundra, burning the chilling animosity with the cold clarity of confidence. In
the heat of a potential battle, my classmate hooked some hair behind an ear,
folded his arms, and devised his first strategy of war.

"I didn't do nothin'
ta 'im." Joey
claimed. "Nothin' at
all." Pinning me to the floor with his unwavering gaze, he
revealed, "But there did happen ta be a few
jerks at 'is school that made life kinda miserable. Idn't that right, Mokuba?"
he inquired, breaking eye contact with me to look at my brother. "Weren't
there some assholes givin' ya
a hard time t'day?"

Thy bey beside him didn't utter a
word. He just stood stock still by the blond, chewing
his lower lip, studying the patterns of thread on a nearby rug.

"That's impossible" I
stated flatly, speaking for a sibling who had mysteriously become mute.
"There's no class on weekends."

Wheeler snickered mockingly. "Ya
still don't get it, do ya?"

"Get what?"

"It's a new week, but you're goin'
on about a day that's come and gone. I don't know what kinda
universe you're livin' in, but it's
Monday, the last set a days 'fore Christmas break."

I blinked. Most of the color had drained out of my face,
leaving me with a multitude of frost bitten flesh.

"No..." I whispered, more to myself than the other
two there. "Oh, Christ Almighty, no..."

Adding insult to injury, Wheeler nodded his head.

"Yeah, baby. Ya better believe it. Ya better
believe that ya kid sib over here got his ass beat on
waitin' for ya ta pick him up."

If nothing else got through to my plastic warped brain, that
piece of troubling information did. Stunned, I immediately switched my
attention to Uriel, only to see him turn away from
me.

Unsure of how to explore this touchy subject, I began by
choosing my words carefully.

"Mokuba?" I queried, wishing he would stop
hiding and just face the music. "Is this true?"

When he folded to the tiles, I realized the truth of what was said. Bringing his knees up to his chest, the little
male hugged himself with his arms, showing me a scalp full of slate colored
hair.

Before I could console him, he spouted, "There were too
many of 'em! At least four or five!
They wanted the jacket I was wearin', but I wouldn't
give it up, so--"

Fresh tears poured onto his cheeks,
sliding across a wicked cut on the right side of his face. Noticing, the mark,
I cupped my fingers around his chin, tilting his visage until I could get a
bird's eye view of him. Needless to say, Ifrustrated.
Briskly, he stole up close to me, placing a palm on my arm while attempting to
make me face him.

"Their leader's an asshole, Kaiba!
I've been with �dem
before--hell, I've even ran with �dem in junior high!
There's no way you're gonna be able ta pull this off without gettin' ya
teeth knocked down ya throat!" Upset that
nothing he was saying was entering into my mind, he almost screamed, "Damnit, think about what you're doin'!
Just think about what you're doin' and what you're
gettin' yourself into, Seto!"

Anger scorched my blood, the liquid
becoming as hot as butter frying on a skillet, threatening to burst through my
veins if I didn't do something about the blond
quickly. Silently, I clamped my fingers around the Toy Poodle's collar, yanked
him across the living room, and, mirroring my fantasies, hauled him into the
outside world without so much as a caustic reply. He landed on the concrete
walkway flat on his ass, so hard and violently that I had to wonder how that
felt like on those bony bun bags of his. Permitting a satisfied smirk to
reappear on my lips, I glanced at his pathetic form again. With this small
achievement under my belt, I extended my arm towards the door, intending to
slam it in his face.

�The perfect end to a not-so-perfect day.�
I said softly, that same snide smile illuminating my features. �I couldn't ask
for anything more.�

Seconds away from closing the space between me and him, Joey bounced up, throwing his arms forward just
as I had the barrier between our lives half-way shut. Mildly taken aback by his
strength, I pressed my body against the wooden frame, only to have him push me
back.

�I'll call security." I threatened. "Don't tempt
me, I really will-�

��Dat's
fine wit� me, go ahead an' do it." he challenged.
"I don't give a damn what punk comes to take me away, I'm not goin' down without landin' a blow
on 'im."

�Trying to get more brownie points on your police record?� I
inquired frostily.

�Nah, I'm just here ta make sure Mokuba don't become a brownie point for Rintama.�

�He's my responsibility, and I can handle everything without
you interfering in our lives.�

�They�re not people ya can pay
off, Kaiba!� Jou roared,
his emotions taking a sad toll on him. �Don't fuck yourself over like this!�

Throwing my head and shoulders back, I ceased to participate
in the r str struggle and stood defiantly before Wheeler, lapsing into my
passable corporate personality.

�If you have something personal to settle with your street
buddies, go take care of it and stop bothering me-�

�We're not friends; we've never been close-�

�Maybe if you get down on your knees and stick your paws up,
they�ll toss you a treat.� I suggested coldly. �Just make sure whatever you're
sucking on doesn't get rammed too far down your throat.�

Unwilling to listen to anymore of his experiences with
thugs, I slammed the door on him. Outside, I could hear him beating on the
mansion's entrance, yelling at the top of his lungs, ordering me to give him
audience.

I slid my head from side to side, a nice, easy motion that didn't add to my sluggishness. Too late, loser, I
thought acerbically. you had your shot. You got to tell me off in my own house, so you should feel
proud. If you know what's good for you, you'll keep
that gossiping nose out of places it doesn't belong.

Spotting Mokuba
by the stairs, I winced as he held his hand up to his face. I could tell the
laceration was painful for him. No matter if it was or
wasn't, he turned the valves to his tears off, rocking himself on his bottom in
an attempt to remain calm and quiet. It was working. Cringing at the image of
my brother nursing himself alone, I found myself being pulled
towards him, only to have a single phrase bolt me to the carpet.

Joey�s screaming.

Whipping my sight to the door, he yelled at me through the
heavy panel of Redwood, asking me something that no one else had ever had the
nerve to.

"What the fuck's wrong with you, Kaiba?
Just what in the fuck is wrong with you?"

I opened my mouth to answer him,
but put a zipper on it when I realized that he might not hear what I had to
say. If I had the chance to respond, what would I tell him? That I was
perfectly sane for wanting to round up a bunch of notorious crooks?
That I was just fine, despite the minor detail that I had my calendar wires
crossed, forgot to bring Mokuba home, and left him to
get hurt by Rintama? This
wasn't going without mentioning that I had missed--no, blatantly skipped--class
myself, screwed an afternoon's worth of company plans, and, and--
>
>

What is wrong with me? I grilled myself. Really, what the hell is wrong with me?

Unable to arrive at a reasonable
excuse, I glanced at my relative. Indigo spheres were glazed,
spooked by the memory of Rintama�s initiation games,
staring at the puddle of murky fluid I left. Even gh hgh his lips were sound
proof, I could read his mind. I pictured a message board spiraling around his
brain, hovering in front of his eyes, tormenting his logic at every junction in
his head.

What's wrong, Big
Brother? he desperately wanted to ask, the
question swooping over his body, imitating a falcon hunting for prey. What's wrong?

I--I don't know...I just don't
know.

Waving a white flag above my door,
I admitted defeat to my dark counterpart, the voice that informed me that no
matter where I was, no matter how hard I tried, I'd
tumble into its catastrophic clutches. Regardless of who or what I was aspiring
to be, the dreaded dragon of my nightmares stalks my residence, isolating me in
the most secluded chamber of my mansion, willing me to fall victim to the cry
of the valkyries.
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Innocent Guilt