The Ride

Chapter 5: Quicksand

I finally set my pen down ten minutes before six, taking a moment to admire my handiwork. It took an entire night, but I believe I've finally gotten the first phase of my plan down perfectly. This strategy could sink a genius, so it's quite safe to say that muttmutt won't know what hit him.

On the desk before me lies a letter addressed to Joey Wheeler, telling him how I've loved him for ages but never had the guts to act on it, for fear of rejection. I laugh at the irony of it all; me, Seto Kaiba, afraid of rejection? Who would ever reject me? I'm all that anyone could possibly want; rich, powerful, hotter than Hell. Even if he resists at first, he won't be able to help being drawn in. No one ever does, once rn orn on the charm.

Who would ever dream it was so easy to get people to believe you're something you're not? Feed them a few clichés about your fears, your hopes, dreams, problems... whatever they need to hear, and they don't even stop to think about who they're dropping their guard for. In the end, everyone falls for one mask or another, and once I'm done with them, I cast them off to the side like the trash they are.

Oh, but by the time I'm done with Wheeler, he'll be begging to be drained and cast aside. He'll wish that's all I did to him, and no more. At least that, he'd eventually recover from. But this plan... it's so diabolical, I'm surprised I don't have any moral objection to it. To be perfectly honest, though, I'd be surprised if I had any morals, period.

The plan, if you haven't figured it out by now, is quite simple, really. I'm going to make the puppy fall for me, so hard that he'll be completely lost to any reason where I am concerned. Then, once I'm sure he's trapped in my web, I'll cut him loose, tear his heart to shreds, and break him from the inside out. It's a completely foolproof plan; even if by some chance he should actually survive it with some shred of his spirit intact, I can always let him see me with one of those all too eager whores that would fuck me just for bragging rights. Nothing can possibly go wrong; I've got every eventuality covered.

I wonder if he's going to kill himself, I think to myself as I slide the letter into an unremarkable envelope, seal it, and write his name across the front before tossing it into my open briefcase. I certainly hope he does. I've found misery loves company, and once the mutt's gone, his friends should have misery in spades. Not that I'll be around for very long after, though.

Once my lust for vengeance is sated, after all, what else am I going to stick around here for? Certainly not Mokuba, or Duel Monsters. Thanks to Yami, I've completely lost my reputation as World Champion, and after yesterday morning, I doubt Mokuba would even want to give me the time of day. I have no other family, and less friends. In my absence, someone else wiun Kun Kaiba Corp. No matter how hard I try, I can't think of anything else worth one more second on this dismal planet.

As I fish my school uniform from the closet, I contemplate how I'm going to do it. Pills and booze? That has possibilities, I suppose. Slash my wrists in the bathtub? No, far too feminine, and slow. I don't want time for second thoughts. A gun, then? Hmm.. Mokuba would probably find me, and I don't want to subject him to that. He's paid enough for the crime of loving me. That's out too, then.

Tossing the blue shirt and pants onto the bed, I grab a quick shower, mentally going over my itinerary once again. I have to get to class before the mutt, so that I can get the letter onto his desk without being caught. That shouldn't be a problem; he always runs in under the bell if he's not with the midget, and I can beat either of them to school any day of the week.

Even if he does read it during class, nothing will happen until lunch; he's got recess detention for mouthing off to the sensei when she started chewing him out for not having done his homework since.. well, ever. He'll definitely have read it by lunch, though; Wheele not not known for his patience. However things turn out, he'll be searching for me at lunch hour, that much is sure.

I always eat on the roof; nobody else ever bothers to go all the way up there. He'll find me eventually, though. That's one of his few good qualities; persistence. He'll find me, and then... then, I'll have to wing it, I suppose, since I have no fucking clue how he's going to react. Shouldn't be too hard, though; he's quite predictable, especially when he's off-balance, and what I can predict, I can counter.

I dress quickly and take up my briefcase as I walk out the door. I'll have to drive myself to school if I hope to get there on time, I reflect as I force myself to bolt down a quick breakfast. Mokuba's seated on one of the kitchen counters, staring intently into his bowl of cereal, loath to make conversation after yesterday. I don't blame him; after getting burned like that, I wonder how long it would take me to open up again. Don't worry, kid, I think to him as I start up the Mercedes a few minutes later. I'll be gone just as soon as Wheeler is.

* * *

My plan goes off without a hitch; I beat the mutt and his friends to the school by a clear ten minutes, at the very least, and get the letter onto his desk without anyone noticing anything amiss. It's touch and go for a while, however, as it takes him a full ten minutes to actually find the damn thing, and by the time he does, it's time to get to first period already. I wish I could have seen the look on his face when he opened it, but then again, it might have been annoying to see him staring at me through an entire class. Not uncomfortable, mind you, just annoying.

He's slower than I gave him credit for; I have time to eat, do two assignments and half of another before he finds me at lunch time. His hair's a mess, his face totally flushed, and my letter, hardly recognizable, is crumpled in his hand, and he thrusts it out at me without so much as a salutation.

"What the fuck is your damage?" he demands of me, and I laugh inwardly at his impotent rage.

"I'm sick of hiding what I truly feel for you," I recite, turning my face away from him to stare out towards the harbor, just as I would if the letter was genuine. Is it any wonder I got the highest grade in my drama class?

His lack of self-control is painfully evident as he sputters, searching for a reply. "You..." he begins, unable to finish his sentence. "You, ice-cold, black-hearted Kaiba... loves me?"

Oh, so we're at this stage of the game already, are we? He's more gullible than I thought. "I believe the letter speaks for itself."

m sum surprised to hear him scoff; he certainly does change gears quickly. "I don't believe it." I the the sound of the wadded-up letter striking the ground and the noise of his sneakers scraping against the gravel covering the roof as he turns to leave.

This is it. Gotta make him believe this. Composing myself, and forcing something resembling emotion to bleed out from behind my masks, I glide over to him and grab his arm with an urgency I by no means feel. If he doesn't fall to this, he'll fall to another of my plans. "Please... please wait." I say, with a desperation that most Academy Award recipients would be unable to exhibit on demand. Useless things, trophies; if I had one, I'd toss it in the first Dumpster I could find. Only insecure people need tangible reminders of their victories to feel good about themselves.

He turns, and his eyes begin to search my face for something, anything, that would prove all this is a lie. I hold my breath for an agonizing few moments, until his gaze goes from angry and guarded to soft and yielding. "You're serious, aren't you?" he says, as though trying to convince himself of that fact.

"Yes," I reply, fighting to keep the act up and not use this opportunity to attack him while his defenses are down. Patience is a virtue. "I mean every word, Joey."

He bites his bottom lip, and his eyes stray off to the side. I can tell he's trying to decide what his next move should be. Either way, it doesn't matter one bit. If he doesn't fall now, he'll fall tomorrow, or the next day. It has been my experience that people have an infatuation with those things which look too good to be true, and that being the case, all of them are drawn to me inexorably.

"I don't know," he says at length, and the venom is gone from his voice as he looks up into my eyes, expecting me to deliver an ultimatum.

Well, I didn't expect him to fall into my arms, as he did last night, did I? Honey over vinegar, honey over vinegar.... "Take your time," I say, ignoring the flare of impatience that explodes in my chest. Every moment he delays me is another I have to spend alive and in this forsaken darkness that defines my existence. However, I refuse to go into oblivion quietly, and if I ever hope to take him down with me, I'll have to hold off my avarice long enough to draw him to the cliff before trying to push him off. That being as it is, what else can I do but swallow my impatience and frustration and settle in for the wait?

"Thanks," he answers, backing away slowly. "Uh... well, later, Kaiba." With that, he bolts for the stairs, escaping the soon-to-be awkward moment. I lean against the chain-link fence that circles the rooftop, allowing myself the tiniest of smiles as I pick up the letter and smooth it out as best I can. Flipping open the lighter I always keep in my pocket, I set it on fire, tossing it to the ground as I pick up my briefcase and stride over to the stairway, not even bothering to glance back at the pile of ash that I know is all that remains of the first step of my plan. Like so many other things over the years, it has served its purpose and must be destroyed.

I try not to think too much about the fact that this defines my own life just as well as the burning letter.