Eep...don't kill meh, please! This is only until I get some inspiration for "MY Life, MY Rules!"--or until this one's finished. Whichever comes first.

Disclaimer Dude: Charles Dickens owns--well, owned--"A Christmas Carol". Kazuki Takahashi owns YuGiOh.

The Visit

It was nearing five o'clock PM, Christmas Eve. Down on the streets, people bustled to and fro, chattering and wishing each other a merry Christmas. Children sang carols on the street corners. And snow drifted down from the darkening blue sky, swirling gently as it fell to the ground.

But not everyone in the city was outside enjoying the winter weather.

Tap…

Tap…

Tap…

Seto Kaiba growled, looking up from his computer screen. He'd left strict orders that no one was to bother him—and yet, someone knocked on his office door.

"Who is it?" he barked irritably.

The door opened a crack, and he caught a glimpse of crimson iris. "It's just me."

Kaiba sighed. "What is it, Mutou?"

Yami opened the door a little more, so that his spiked bangs dangled in through the crack. The former pharaoh had been working at KaibaCorp for about ten months, and had already proved a valuable asset—he could write, type, and recall information faster than any other employee currently working there. His memory was almost as powerful as one of Kaiba's supercomputers.

"Sorry to bother you," he said, "but I was just wondering if I could take the day off tomorrow. You know—because of Christmas."

"Feh." Kaiba turned back to his computer, watching Yami out of the corner of his eye. "The answer is no. This business needs as many employees working as possible—Christmas or no Christmas."

Yami scowled at him, pushing a little farther into the room. "I'm only one man, Kaiba. Surely the business can do without one man for one day."

Kaiba snorted. "And if I let you off, what of everyone else?"

"'Everyone else' doesn't have a real family," Yami pointed out. "Do they?"

Kaiba sighed. Once again, Yami's logic was impeccable.

"Fine," he growled. "Just expect to be working overtime the next day to make up for it."

Yami threw him a sketchy sort of salute. "Yessir." He left, shutting the door behind him.

Kaiba gave his head a little shake. It unnerved him slightly, the way Yami enjoyed his work. No matter what task he was up against, he would set to it, work until it was done, and look eagerly around for more.

At that moment, Yami poked his spiky head back into the room. "We're having a get-together at the game shop tomorrow—a Christmas party. Would you be interested in coming?"

"No, I would not!" Kaiba snapped. "I wouldn't be caught dead with you people!"

Yami simply shrugged. "Just asking. To every man his own, I suppose." He left again.

Kaiba rolled his eyes, turning back to the computer. He still didn't know why he'd bothered to hire Yami—as he had so cryptically been pointed out to, none of his other employees had any family whatsoever, while he had both himself and Yuugi. It was most likely because he worked faster than any other man—or woman—and KaibaCorp, excluding Kaiba himself.

Five long beeps sounded over the PA system—five o'clock. Time for all of the lower employees to hit the hay.

Yami pushed open the door again, all the way this time.

"What is it now?" Kaiba asked irritably.

Yami just smiled at him. "Merry Christmas, boss-man." He shut the door again with a click.

Kaiba snorted, and resumed typing. Feh. Merry Christmas, indeed.

He had no time for things like Christmas and holidays; there was work to be done, always more work. Ever since Ryuji Otogi had died two years ago, he'd had to take care of both halves of their business contract—producing Dungeon Dice Monsters and marketing it. It had dropped a lot of dead weight on his shoulders.

Maybe I can dump some of this on Mutou…he's eager enough…

I wouldn't, if I were you.

Kaiba started, and looked around. He could have sworn he heard a slightly familiar voice; but no one was there.

Great. Now he was hearing things. Too much work was getting to him—and dumping it on Yami was looking like more and more of a good idea.

Now really, Kaiba.

Kaiba stood up, giving his head a little shake. He was under too much stress—better to go back to the mansion now than to stay late at the offices, working like he usually did.

He exited his office, took the elevator down to the bottom floor, snapped at his secretary not to forward him any calls or visitors, and headed out into the lot. He reached up to the microphone hidden in the collar of his trench coat, preparing to call for Roland and the limo—but thought better of it, and instead set off down the street at a brisk pace.

Christmas decorations were everywhere. Ribbons and wreaths; lights and bells; holly and tinsel. As he walked, Kaiba brushed past brightly-dressed people who juggled multiple bags and boxes in their arms, or who carried stacks of cards. They all talked and laughed; they were all wishing each other a Merry Christmas.

Christmas. Feh. He hurried on, ignoring the happy, senseless chatter about him.

On one corner, Kaiba passed a choir of ten or fifteen kids—only from eight to ten, he guessed. They were singing a Christmas carol. One child in the front was holding a sign;

DOMINO ELEMENTARY
VOLUNTARY CHORUS GROUP
Director: Shizuka Kawai
Collecting for charities.
Please donate!

Another boy was holding a coffee can, with "Charity Donations" printed on the front. People appeared to have been giving generously; the can was already nearly half full of coins, checks, and bills.

All at once, the other singers' voices died down to a low hum, and one voice rose above them. It was a female voice, set at a sweet treble.

"Love and joy come to you,
And to you good Christmas too,
And God bless you and send you a happy New Year,
And God send you a happy New Year…"

Glancing at the choir as he passed, he saw that it was 'the mutt's sister'—Shizuka. She was the oldest of the group, apparently. She continued her solo, the other voices just a hum in the background.

He passed by, but got the strangest feeling he was being watched. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder—and sure enough, though she was still singing her solo, Shizuka was watching him with thoughtful eyes. He squared his shoulders and walked on, until the choir music, which had swelled back up to full, faded into the background.

Nothing else happened until Kaiba reached his mansion. He shut the door behind him, the sound echoing through the darkened building, and entered the kitchen. He set his briefcase on the kitchen table, and headed back up the stairs.

Suddenly, the big grandfather clock in the living room began to toll. Kaiba stopped and looked at his watch, startled. It was five fifteen—and yet, the clock seemed to be tolling twelve.

The pendulum clock at the top of the stairway began to chime, in exact rhythm with the grandfather clock.

Alarm clocks in the bedrooms began ringing.

In the kitchen, the stove timer beeped.

Soon, the noise was deafening. Kaiba pressed his hands to his ears, but he could still hear it.

"SHUT UP!"

The house fell silent once more. Giving his head a little shake, Kaiba continued to climb. He pushed open the door to his room—and recoiled with a gasp.

A young man sat on the armchair that faced the door. His black hair was oddly spiked, held up from his face by a red headband. A die hung from his left ear. His closed eyes were outlined with kohl. And an iron chain was shackled to his ankle—a chain that was almost fifteen feet long, with links the size of Kaiba's hand and almost as thick as his wrist.

But none of that was what had made Kaiba recoil. It was the fact that this man's colors were muted and grey, and that he was almost transparent—and it was the fact that he knew him.

Ryuji Otogi raised his eyes. "I've been waiting for you, Kaiba."

"You're supposed to be dead," Kaiba said accusingly.

"Who says I'm not?" Otogi asked dryly. "I didn't come here to trade references. I came here because you're in danger."

Kaiba snorted. "Right. And, pray tell, what danger could I possibly be in?"

Otogi's face was dead serious. "You're in danger of becoming like me."

"Becoming a ghost with a chain around my ankle?" Kaiba quipped.

In truth, he was a bit afraid of Otogi. The ghost was something that couldn't be explained by rational means. Not that he hadn't already tried—in his mind, of course.

Otogi's eyes seemed to bore into him. "It's worse than having a chain around your ankle. I've learned to deal with that much. It's being forced to wander…forever…without rest…" He covered his eyes. "It's pure torture. I feel sorry that you'll have to bear it."

Kaiba snorted. "You? Sorry for me? You're the one who's been dead for two years!"

Otogi folded his hands in his lap. "Your fate is worse than mine, Kaiba—ten times worse."

He indicated the chain. "See this? This represents all my misdeeds—all my hatreds. All the times when I could have helped, and instead I hurt. You, too, have a chain."

Almost automatically, Kaiba glanced down at his own ankles.

Otogi laughed—a short bark. "You can't see it, old partner. Not until you're dead. But I see it." He sighed. "Your chain is long, Kaiba—hang it off the top of your office building, and it will coil on the street below. Its links—" he held up his own chain. "—each is twice as big as these, and twice as thick. You've worked on it for a long time."

Kaiba was feeling afraid again. He didn't want to end up like Otogi—a haunted specter, forced to wander forever, dragging a chain of immense proportions.

"Is there…any way to redeem myself?"

Otogi smiled slightly. "There is one."

He stood up. "Three spirits will come to you. The first when the clock strikes one; the second when the clock strikes two; the third—in his own good time."

He began to fade. "Listen and learn—or there won't be any redemption possible."

And he was gone.

So...? Hehehe...does Kaiba make a good Scrooge, or what?

Review, please!