The new game unveiled by Kaiba Corporation in the summer of the most recent year had been one that had been heralded as the hardest game in the history of existence. It seemed in and of itself a simple platformer. The problem with the game was that it had been solely and completely made by one Kaiba Seto. He had locked himself in his office for months upon months to compile lines of code and data. Before that he had taken months to sketch out by hand level designs and patterns. All of it had compiled into one frustrating game that no one had ever seen the ending to and no one was sure was possible to beat. Even the greatest gamers in the world had no chance of beating it. Just as they got passed one level and into the next the game took hard turns that threw them completely from their seats in frustration.
They say the rise in broken TVs, computers and gaming systems was unparalleled.
One only had to really reflect on the few months before the game came into existence in Kaiba's brain to recognize why it was so impossible to beat. The game had been born in complete and utter hatred.
He had shut himself off from everything in the world, which was nothing shy of normal- but it was when he stopped taking Mokuba's calls just so he could work on the one thing in his life that suddenly felt like it had any importance to him, that's when the world stopped turning for most. He stopped going to press briefings and he stopped turning up in meetings. Mokuba took the helm as VP in charge for quite a long time, not truly understanding what was going on but knowing that it must have been very important all the same.
It scared him. The last time he'd seen his brother so concentrated on one field of gaming was when Death-T had come into existence. It felt like a dark and frightening repeat. As the shadows in his brother's eyes returned he almost wanted to put a stop to it, but he couldn't get that close.
Once the game had been released and in the subsequent months, some people thought it was a scam. Some people thought it was a very clever little scheme. Create a game that is completely unbeatable so that when the true gamer masses break their equipment in frustration, who would they have to run to? Kaiba Corporation, of course.
If Kaiba would only step up, perhaps release a tutorial of someone, anyone, beating it, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
But for all the work he put into it, the sad sole fact was…
Not even Kaiba Seto could beat this game.
So where did that leave him? The game he spent a small chunk of his life, a game that he put his heart and his soul into, it was unfinished without completion. If not by him, then by who? Who would be worthy enough to be able to jump the cliffs and brave the pits of Kaiba's literal masterpiece?
He needed to know who. And so, in usual fashion, he announced a tournament. The one who would win it was offered a very sweet, and very real prize.
None of that mattered. All Kaiba cared about was coming to something he knew to be the only true thing in his heart. No one could conquer this game. Absolutely no one would rise to the challenge. Even as they flocked in droves to try and do it, no one came even remotely close.
No one, that is, save for the one man he was almost too unsurprised to see.
The doors of the large arena were pushed open calmly and yet without a real not of entrance, every single gamer in the room turned. A small body clad in leather parted the sea of the crowd without raising a single hand. Crimson eyes swept the floor, ridiculous hair raising back as his head tilted proudly; in he walked, right up to the main console.
Now in truth, when Kaiba first laid eyes on his rival, on Mutou Atem, he scoffed. For all he knew, despite being the new Game King, platformers and computer games were not his thing. He'd heard it said that there was no game Atem couldn't conquer. He believed that on some very small level. After all, he'd sat down a few times to play more interesting games with him on a few occasions. Old fashioned games like chess, checkers, and go seemed no match for Atem's skill.
But this?
Kaiba believed there was no way Atem would conquer this. Maybe that's what it was truly all about. Maybe he'd built a game so hard that it would draw Atem out of the woodworks. Maybe he'd built it just so he could witness Atem's utter failure. His lips curved into a cruel smirk at the thought.
Atem stopped in front of him and announced one word.
"Move."
The crowd hushed as Kaiba regarded him and without a scathing reprieve stepped aside.
The small frame stepped forward, dropping carefully into the computer chair and angled his head down towards the monitor. He'd not had a single chance to practice this game. He hadn't wanted to. Once he heard all the hardships that had gone into it the thing he knew best to do was to take it as it came. That's how he dealt with Kaiba on every other level. A game made completely by him would be no different. He'd come to this tournament of fools to prove one thing and one thing only.
He was the only one worthy of rivaling Kaiba. He was the only one who knew the ins and outs of his rival's heart. He was so sure that he would have the know how, that the moment the game started up, he'd just feel how to play it. He was confident. And he was ready.
The game started up, the soft and solitary techno beat (all composed by Kaiba as well) playing out. Atem was no in control, short fingers at the keys. He took hold of the small but changing shape that was his main "character". It was designed to be quite a trick to the eyes. When you were only just starting to succeed the shape would change and the maze would become harder. The jumps would come up on you quicker, the obstacles would be tougher to avoid.
Soon, fifteen minutes into the game, he was breaking a sweat. His hands were flying across the keyboard in a way that only drew reminiscence to Kaiba's when he was deep in new release code.
And soon he realized he couldn't breathe. In just a few more minutes as the level shifted, twisted, and even made some of the other gamer's too sick to watch, his hands had come down on the back of Atem's chair. He had never played in the game this far. He'd never seen it on the big screen this way. It was fascinating and he had to give himself some credit. Not that he'd disbelieved such a thing were possible, but he'd made an absolutely beautiful game-
A beautiful game that only Atem seemed capable of playing.
He was willing Atem to keep on going, keep playing, find the end-
"Finish it!"
He hadn't even realized he'd cried out. His heart was hammering in his chest. Atem couldn't fail him now, he just couldn't.
And as the avatar, finally a solid shadow of a dragon cleared the last upcoming pit to stand on a platform raised over everything else, the game roared in triumph. Kaiba felt limp, he was sure he wouldn't be able to stand any longer.
It was then and only then that Atem tilted his head back, a little flush in the face from his efforts, looking at Kaiba right in the eyes. The brunet stared down at him, terrified. What would he say?
"…is that it?"
His hands gripped the chair harder in order just to stay standing. Hard blue eyes narrowed at the curious crimson ones staring backwards back up at him. A shaking hand went to the intercom of his collar. "Isono get everyone out of here. Now." And before his men even had a chance to say anything he turned to the crowd with the last flourish he was capable of- "Everyone go home. You've lost!" They failed. Everyone failed him. He'd even failed the game himself.
Where did that leave him? More importantly where did it leave the man still sitting in the chair with that ridiculously antagonizing confused look on his face?
As Kaiba snarled, watching the crowds flood and flee through the doors, he practically jumped as he felt a small hand on his upper-arm. He turned, Atem looking up at him still though he'd gotten up to do so. "It's over." That sounded more like a promise than anything else. And for a moment Kaiba was grateful for it.
A small one.
A tiny one in time, just before he slammed that form up against the wall and took everything back. He took everything he wanted out of his rival, just like Atem had done to him. If Atem was worthy enough to be able to wade through everything he'd built himself to be, he'd tear his rival down with or without his consent just to see his own inner workings. It was damnably frustrating that Atem always seemed to cut right through him, to know what he was up to, to read his thoughts, to be able to puzzle his heart broken and back together and yet he still couldn't read those beautiful ruby eyes.
As he entered the form now quivering in his arms he could only think to ask one thing. "How?" How did Atem do it? How was he always there when it was important? Maybe he should have asked why.
The answer he got was not as satisfying to his query as it was to his pride. "Seto," A guttural moan as his hands clenched against the brunet's chest.
He'd never get the answer, he knew that now. But as long as he could play this game too, maybe that's all that mattered. "Let me hear you scream it." It was going to be the only solace he got. It might be the only one he ever got from now on. He'd have to be happy with it. As he tilted Atem's head to meet his eyes he saw the most beautifully shattered look he'd ever seen Atem wear. It wasn't unnatural, he felt, as he slammed into him one last time. Those eyes widened upon realization that he had lost everything. Kaiba drank him in completely. "Yes." It was a dark growl, coming too quick after Atem called for him again.
They slid to the floor, breathing heavy, Atem's more so. Kaiba felt himself drifting, Atem becoming more dependent on him… hugging him, he was sure. It was half uncomfortable and half… pleasing. His eyes closed as his arms swooped around that smaller form that now bore all the bruises and marks Kaiba could physically impart to him. It just felt so important to be able to see them on Atem's body, because he was sure he was never going to be able to see them in his heart or in his mind.
"It was always going to be me." Atem said suddenly, airy tone as it was.
It shocked Kaiba. How could Atem have been so sure of that? And did that mean he'd been carrying that idea around with him for this entire time? Finally he scowled. "Cocky little bastard."
Somehow it all fit. His game was beaten, not for the first, not for the second, and certainly not for the final time, by Atem. By the man in his arms passing out slowly from exhaustion.
It fit.