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Chapter 10: Tabby, Paycheck

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"Have you seen any movies lately?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, as Mai shuffled the phone over to her other shoulder.

"Why do you ask, hon?" It sounded flippant, and casually curious. Joey could read neither suspicion nor guilt into it.

"I ended up watching that new dragon movie that's coming out for Golden Week," he admitted. "It was pretty good."

I didn't end up crying into your handkerchief at all, he didn't say.

Joey shrugged. "Just wondered what you'd been up to is all. And I guess movies were on my mind."

"Mmm, we don't really get our pick of movie releases on the cruise ship," Mai confessed. "But I did get to see something on video-on-demand. It was all the rage when it came out last year: Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain."

Oh, god. Figured it would be something he wasn't even capable of pronouncing.

"It was disappointing," Mai went on to say. "I don't know why I bothered."

Mai didn't like most of the artsy foreign films she ended up watching.

"Well, why did ya bother then?" Joey teased.

Mai scoffed. "A friend recommended it."

"Vivian?"

"Yes."

Joey couldn't read anything into the pause that followed that either.

"I hate films like that," Mai began again, unprompted. "I hate heroines like that. There aren't happy, whimsical, romantic endings for women like that. Who only like stupid things like crème brûlée and skipping stones on the water." Mai snarled. "Give me a break. You hold yourself above and away from people – you can't suddenly undo the damage."

The French was familiar this time. "Isn't crème brûlée that sweet you always get after dinner?" Joey's brow scrunched. "The pudding one?"

"Well, aren't you a regular Sherlock today?" Mai scoffed. But then she softened. "Yes. With the caramel glaze on top."

"You always get this-" Joey snickered, "-super intense look when you break the top of it." The sugar would shatter like a pane of glass. When it was his turn to take a bite, Mai would pass him the spoon with the same comedically grave look, like she was passing him a weapon. "It's cute," Joey giggled.

"Yeah. Haha. Laugh it up," Mai clipped.

"He heh." Joey let his laughter die. He frowned at piles of laundry, and at piles of bagged garbage. He had meant what he said to Mai as a compliment. She was cute, he had said. He didn't know how to explain to Mai that she should be flattered.

She hadn't asked him about the movie he had seen either. He felt vaguely that he had had something he wanted to share about it. But he couldn't remember what, and he was beginning to doubt he had anything he could share about it at all.

He wanted to feel good. He didn't want to sink into this sea of misaimed words and dissatisfactions and aggressions, none of which could be corrected by a disjointed voice on a phone line.

"So- Mai-" Joey said. The words seemed choppy, and he blinked, upset at his lack of tact, before rushing the rest of the sentence out. "What are you wearing?"

Mai immediately huffed a laugh into the phone. Her giggles sounded like chimes. And Joey felt about as angry at her willingness to laugh at him, as he felt endeared.

"'What are you wearing?'" she taunted. "Did you steal that out of an old ecchi manga?"

"Aww, shut up~" Joey pouted. He sat up in his futon and scooted back to lean his back against the sofa. Properly reclined, he stretched down the waistline of his sweatpants and boxer briefs. He cupped his balls, and moved up the bottom of the shaft. "My-"

My dad's not here right now, would make him sound like a loser. And of course Mai already knew how much of a loser he was, and that he lived with his dad. But it still seemed like the least sexy thing he could possibly say.

"I don't have anywhere else I gotta to be right now. And it's been so long since I've seen you," he sulked into the phone line. "C'mon. Entertain me a little." He stroked himself a couple of times and sighed, just to let out his frustration.

"Mmm, I don't know~" Mai hummed. "It's maybe a bit hard to be entertaining when the only intro I get from you is whining and the oldest opening line in the book."

Mai was being difficult on purpose. Joey liked her better in person, where it was easier to turn the tables on her. To get her squirming and gasping, and all but moaning, with a few deft finger movements. Ones she hadn't taught to him, but that he'd learned nevertheless through long practice against her body.

But, for now, he'd play along.

"Pleeeease, Mai," he pleaded into the phone. "You know you're better at the sexy talk than I am anyhow."

He imagined the effect this flattery and humility would have on her. How she would preen and blossom and open up for him, because of these affectations he didn't need to offer her.

The idea that he was doing her a kindness was what really got him hard.

He attempted a husky voice. "You're so good at it, Mai… Please… Indulge me."

Mai let out a heady chuckle. "Alright," she said. "If you want to know what I'm wearing, it's just my usual corset. But it's strung up tight. So tight," she breathed. "I'm lying on the comforter, and it's been a hard day full of little irritations, but I'm just, mmm, restless. I'm squirming and hot and wet. And I need you. I need you to pull at the corset's laces, and, mmm, bite my shoulder, and-" She took a moment to let out a playful moan. "-let my breasts spill out over the top."

Joey hoped the quickened pace of his breathing was encouraging – that he didn't need to say much of anything as he rubbed himself off. But Mai didn't seem to need his encouragement. She dropped enticing details like petals. Flashes of imagery and small sounds, offered in a rhythmic pace that synched effortlessly up to his own.

"I need you. I need you. I need you so much," she lied. "So much. Right now. I'm so wet."

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"So you'll take him the sandwich? And the coffee? Plenty of cream and sugar?"

"Yes, Wheeler-san. I will take him your sandwich. And make coffee." Satou-chan did not bother to conceal the exasperation in her voice. "Just like I always did before you arrived."

"Okay, first of all, it's not my sandwich." Joey slid it across Satou-chan's desk, and appreciated the crinkly sound of the tin foil against the wood. "It's just a sandwich. Could be anyone's sandwich. It's Kaiba's sandwich." When Satou-chan didn't protest- "And also you can't make coffee just like you always did. He's a baby about bitter foods."

"Wheeler-san…"

Joey scrambled behind Satou-chan's desk. He clasped her shoulder and regarded her fondly. "Look, Satou-chan~ You and me – we're important. The only ones standing between Kaiba and complete destitution and starvation. He needs us. Otherwise, one of these days, a big gust of wind is going to blow by and- whoosh~ It'll catch onto his jacket like it's a kite, and he'll fly off into the sun."

Joey waved his spread hand in the air, letting it pitch and sway in the imaginary breeze. It distracted him.

"I don't think Kaiba-sama is as frail as you seem to think," Satou-chan interjected. "And, in any case, you are stalling. Wasting time. Hurry and report to your driver in the parking lot."

Joey shot a glance back at the closed white double doors leading into Kaiba's office. They remained impassive and resolutely shut.

He leaned a bit further into Satou-chan's space, just to make himself feel better.

"Why is Mokuba off school so early anyhow? Greenery Day was yesterday, but the real vacation doesn't technically start until Friday, huh? Is it just some super elite school thing?"

"I believe it's none of my business," Satou-chan said. "But I don't think Vice President Kaiba is off of school quite yet. Kaiba-sama seemed upset that he was playing hooky with his friend to extend the vacation."

"Hmm…" Joey glared at the office doors a bit harder. He was pretty sure Kaiba was avoiding him for some reason. But if he was, there was no reason for Joey not to let him.

Satou-chan was determined to continue her work, irregardless of Joey pressing against her. She struggled to mark changes in a corporate schedule.

Joey bounced against her side again.

"Promise me, Satou-chan?"

Satou-chan didn't ask what she was being asked to promise. "Yes, yes." She pressed his arm away and waved him off. "I promise you, Wheeler-san. Now get going."

Joey recognised some of the faces in the elevator on his way down, mulling between the forty-fifth and sixty-third floors. He tried not to pay attention to who was a researcher, inventor, product tester, board member, corporate executive. And pretty soon it was just him, zooming down alone into Kaiba Corp's executive parking garage.

He idled near the elevator and the panel of company car keys for a moment, but quickly became restless and rushed off to peer up the different isles in the parking lot. He didn't see anything that wasn't stationary, but became distracted by the patterns of the cars – white, black, and silver, all in a row. From the other direction, a company car pulled up.

Joey turned his head, and watched the passenger seat window roll down. Tsukuda ducked down and peered sceptically at Joey over the top of his dark glasses. For a second, Joey wondered if he was actually meant to sit next to Tsukuda today but, just as quick, the window was rolled back up, and the car jerked forward so Joey was right in front of the door to the back seat.

Joey slid into the backseat with a sigh, and fiddled with his seatbelt. "So, uh, where is Mister Mokuba-bocchan today?"

There was a pause. The car drifted forward smoothly. And then-

"The name of the brick and mortar location is not clear to me, but President Kaiba has provided GPS coordinates for discerning Vice President Kaiba's location."

G… P… S… Joey mouthed the letters to himself.

Tsukuda continued, "I believe his general intention is that this will get us to the general vicinity of the Vice President's current location, at which point you will enter the premises and recover him."

Joey snorted. "Kid's just playing hooky? Recover him from what?"

Tsukuda said nothing.

The car was moving past the lines of stationary cars, and the pattern made their colours was starting to blur together into a mass of pale grey. Joey unfocussed his eyes to speed the process. Until the cars ran out. Then there were just smooth slabs of the cement wall. Probably most Kaiba Corp employees took the metro to work. Probably most of them didn't even have cars. Joey wondered how many of the ones that did were still not afforded the privilege of on-premises parking. Even with all these free spaces.

This wasn't something he wanted to ask Tsukuda, who still hadn't answered his previous question. Which wasn't strange in of itself, but Joey found himself struggling, trying to find a way to recapture the lost conversation.

They were approaching the entrance to the underground parking lot, and Joey was temporarily blinded by the flush of light that flooded into his vision, and threw the company car into seemingly transdimensional space.

He suddenly felt the full force of this unease – sharing this space with the unfriendly Tsukuda.

Joey heaved air into his chest, and tried to bolster the frame of his shoulders.

"Hey! Oi! Do you- have some kinda problem with me or somethin'?"

Why won't you talk to me? Do you hate me?

The car pulled out the garage, and the moment had passed. All that was left was Joey's question, out in the air and the daylight. The car pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, turned left.

Joey's cheeks flushed. He hoped their redness wasn't visible, and hoped that his questions hadn't let on his insecurity.

"It's not as if it's personal," Tsukuda said. "There are certain positions where you are held to a certain amount of professionalism and personal detachment. A position with such intimate contact with the top ring of Kaiba Corp is one of them."

Joey felt himself bristle. Yeah, okay, maybe he wasn't very good with formalities and professionalism. And maybe those were good qualities to have when you were working alongside a bunch of salarymen for a conglomerate like Kaiba Corp. But he didn't need to be told that by some antisocial drone like Tsukuda.

"Not to mention," Tsukuda continued, "there is no point in getting attached to people that won't be around very long."

"Oh, is that so," Joey sneered. But he gave up when Tsukuda refused to answer. He rolled down the window in the backseat, and purposefully redirected his attention to the streets and the passing landmarks.

So Tsukuda thought he was on the way out, huh? Well, fine then. Joey would just have to prove that he wasn't going anywhere. Wasn't going to be serendipitously fired. He'd outlast Tsukuda on this stupid, fucking job. And, when he did, he'd have the class to hold back and be lenient, as he rubbed Tsukuda's nose in exactly how far his professionalism had gotten him.

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The GPS coordinates ended up leading them to a plaza on the outskirts of Domino and, nestled between the hairdresser and nail salon and recycling shop, Joey went into the only place that really made sense for a teenage boy to be skiving off.

Mokuba was in the centre of the manga café, slumped over a shoddy looking white plastic fold-out table. He was wearing dark glasses, as was the foreigner sitting across from him, who glanced lethargically over at Joey. There was a fluffy orange cat lying on the table in front of them, and it meowed softly when the foreigner dragged his arms over the surface of the table, and tapped his watch so that Mokuba could see.

Mokuba nodded solemnly against his arms and said something in English. The foreigner responded in a hushed voice.

"Hey, Mokuba!" Joey waved. He walked up to the table. "How've ya been?"

Mokuba grumbled. He waved the foreigner away, who diligently leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling.

The foreigner was wearing dark pants, a grey leather jacket, and a maroon tank top that accentuated the ropey muscles at his abdomen, and brought out a slight tinge of red in his brown hair. The build of his features – the sharpness of his cheekbones and chin – made him seem unlike any foreign movie star that Joey had ever seen, but Joey still couldn't shake the idea he'd seen the man somewhere before.

"Amelda's in town for the holiday," Mokuba said. "I trust you don't need any introductions. We've been hanging out."

Joey raised an eyebrow. "You know you're not actually on vacation yet, right? Satou-chan said you were supposed to be at school today."

Mokuba groaned in response.

The foreigner tilted his head up. He seemed to size-up Joey, then he turned to Mokuba and snickered something in English. Mokuba said something back.

"What? What'd he say?" Joey demanded.

"He was just laughing at your shirt," Mokuba shrugged.

Joey looked down at it. English text slanted across the grey cotton in yellow and black. It read: LOVE THE HAPPY-GO-LUCKY MUSICAL LIFE.

"What? What's wrong with it?!"

Mokuba turned to look expectantly at the foreigner. Who said a grand total of two words.

"It's not that there's anything wrong with it per se. It's just the kind of dumb thing no one would ever say," Mokuba translated.

The foreigner snorted.

"Yeah, yeah laugh it up," Joey grumbled. "You guys sound just like my dad." He hooked his foot around the leg of the chair next to Mokuba, and dragged it out. He sat down with enough force that the cat on the table startled and tensed. He spent a moment letting the cat sniff his hand, before it softened and allowed him to pet it.

The foreigner sighed. He reached to the top of a pile of manga stacked on the other side of the cat. He peeled open the thirty-sixth volume of Ranma ½ and held it over his head, looking up at it through the sunglasses from where he leaned back in his seat.

Joey blinked. "Does he just like the pictures? Or can he actually read that?"

"Can read it better than you read English," Mokuba huffed. "The cat's probably better with English than you."

"Hey!" Joey protested.

The cat yowled in unison, and leapt off the table, leaving Joey's palm covered in long strands of orange fur.

Mokuba sighed heavily, and sunk down behind his sunglasses.

The foreigner had crossed his arms over his chest, but had left the opened volume of Ranma ½ over his face, like a shade.

"Well… what the fuck is the matter with you guys?" Joey asked.

When Mokuba didn't say anything, Joey reached over to snatch the shades off Mokuba's face.

Mokuba squinted harshly at the influx of light. He scowled angrily, as he slapped at Joey's hands and snatched the sunglasses back.

Joey nodded critically to himself – Mokuba's eyes weren't red. At least he wasn't stoned.

"We're tired," Mokuba finally said, as he lay back against the table. "Amelda got in on Saturday. We've been doing stuff ever since. And now we're tired."

"Aww, yeah," Joey commiserated. "I remember you two got stuff all set up for Noa the other night. The anniversary of- yanno-" Battle City and the encounter with Noa wasn't something that had sunk as uneasily into Joey's life as it had for Mai, as it probably had for the Kaiba brothers. But memories of how Kaiba's tournament had been crowded against the Golden Week holidays had still flooded back to him and stuck. "It's hitting you hard, huh?" he prodded.

"Nn-" The denial died on Mokuba's tongue. "Shut up," he scowled instead.

The foreigner mumbled something softly from under his manga.

Mokuba seemed to regain his bearing. "We went shrine hopping around town on Sunday. Amelda wanted to. He got to take pictures in a hamaka and kimono. And then yesterday we went to Disneyland and DisneySea."

Joey cracked his knuckles absently against the card table. "Disney? You mean you took him to Disneyland before you took him to Kaiba Land?"

"Amelda has a grudge against Kaiba Corporation, so there's no way I could take him there." Mokuba shrugged. "It can't be helped."

"He's got a grudge against Kaiba Corp, but not against you – the Kaiba Corp Vice President?"

"Don't be argumentative, Jounouchi," Mokuba scolded. "Nii-sama might have given in and given things up for irrepair, but I'm good at mending bridges."

Joey whistled appreciatively. "Still, I can't imagine Kaiba's happy with ya for paying to go to his competitor's theme park instead of your own."

"It's research," Mokuba said. "I was checking out what Nii-sama and I are up against, of course. The intel I gathered on this trip was worth far more than the cost of entry and some drinks."

Joey noticed that Mokuba wasn't denying that Kaiba was upset, but- "Drinks?"

The foreigner slapped the manga back down on the table. He laughed, and said something in English that made Mokuba turn a deep red. Mokuba shouted something back before returning his attention to Joey.

"Yeah, they have a couple of clubs inside the resort," he blushed. "We kinda drank too much…"

The foreigner interjected with more English.

"Quiet!" Mokuba shot back in Japanese.

Joey looked between them. The embarrassed Mokuba and the foreigner who was watching the ceiling with a smug, teethy grin. The sunglasses and other obvious evidence of their hangovers. And Mokuba's classmates, who had once accused Joey of being his sugar daddy.

Joey still wasn't sure how much Japanese the foreigner could understand, but he felt more comfortable not assuming. "Uh, Mokuba, can I-?" Joey swivelled his chair so he was facing away from the foreigner, towards Mokuba. He beckoned Mokuba to do the same.

From behind the sunglasses, Mokuba seemed to consider him for a long moment, before curiosity got the better of him. He turned to face Joey, and scooted forward to sit at the end of his seat.

Joey held his hand up as a partition, and leaned in to whisper to Mokuba. "Hey, listen, I know you're seventeen and think you know everything and all. But you shouldn't be doing crap like that. The drinking age is twenty, so there'll be plenty of time for clubs and booze later. And, anyhow, what are you doing with this guy?" He glanced furtively sideways, leading Mokuba's eyes to the foreigner. "I mean, he's gotta be at least as old as I am. What's a guy my age doing hanging around a kid like you and taking ya all these places? …It's just suspicious is all."

Mokuba was looking at him with an expression that seemed to communicate he could not even believe the amount of drivel spilling out of Joey's mouth.

"Joey-! What that- Like you ever- It's not even like that! I'm n-" Mokuba jolted to his feet. "You know what- Forget it. Thanks for the advice, Mom! I'm going to the bathroom."

Mokuba stomped away, with a stiffness that reminded Joey of Kaiba.

Joey squinted after Mokuba. Hmm, it was possible Joey had just misread the situation. He hadn't meant to embarrass the poor kid. But hopefully Mokuba would at least know he could come to Joey if something went wrong, something that he didn't want to tell his older brother about for whatever reason.

That left the other one though.

"And what's your story?! Huh?!" Joey demanded. He turned back to the table, where the foreigner was still leaning back in his chair, chuckling. The foreigner rocked back and forth in his chair, and sat up at the table, with one arm propping him up.

Joey crossed his arms. He raised an eyebrow, narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and leaned over the table wearing his most intimidating look.

For a second they were just staring each other down, then the foreigner reached up and pulled off his sunglasses. Folded them in one hand, and placed them down on the table.

Joey stared a moment longer, at the shape of his face and the auburn tinged hair, before he did a double take. "Oh my god." He waved his index finger, astounded. "You're that guy! From America! One of those DOMA goons!"

The foreigner tisked. He responded in English.

Joey looked around helplessly. Without Mokuba around, and without Anzu or Mai around, he was actually going to have to pay attention and put the effort into understanding what this guy was saying.

"Yeah, well… Whatever…" Joey said in Japanese. "How come you know Mokuba, and all?"

Amelda shrugged. He repeated Mokuba's name, and said something about him being a good kid.

Mokuba was a good kid. But it didn't strike Joey as the most immediate descriptor. It was really only something you got to learn after you knew Mokuba for a while.

"Didn't you have some kind of grudge against Kaiba Corp?" Joey persisted. "What are you doing hanging around the kiddo then?"

Amelda said Mokuba's name again, some other stuff, and then repeated that he was a good kid. Then… something about trust?

"You trust him?" Joey asked. "You trust Mokuba?"

Amelda grimaced. He did a kind of weird shrug thing, before nodding.

"And you're in town to visit him for the holiday… and that's it? I think Obon season is probably a better time to travel, though?"

Amelda spoke the next couple sentences way too quickly.

"'Ey! 'Ey! Slow it down. I can barely understand you as is," Joey persisted.

Amelda sighed and repeated himself. He fiddled with his sunglasses, swinging them open and closed from the joints. Joey caught something about little brothers, big brothers, gratitude, sharing. And help. He was helping Mokuba sort out… something. And something else about feelings. And CapMon – Joey caught the part about playing CapMon for sure. And something about the weather being nicer now than in August.

"Yeah? Okay, I guess." Joey allowed. Brotherly bonds were kind of the staple of Kaiba-related relationships, so he supposed he could understand that. Not to mention this guy had helped Mokuba out with the shrine for Noa, apparently. And, even if Amelda was kind of a questionable kook who believed in Atlantis or something, it couldn't hurt for Mokuba to have a friend or two outside of Kaiba Corp's sphere.

"Yeah, it's a warm spring," Joey returned to the weather. When this didn't produce a response- "So, uh, how's life treating you? You- You don't still believe in Atlantis and all that other cultist crap, do you?" he had to ask.

Amelda sighed and pulled at his forehead. He gave Joey a withering look, one that communicated that he wasn't open to discussing this.

The orange, fluffy cat had returned, and Amelda welcomed it back with some cooing and a few strokes of his hand. Joey watched, feeling uncomfortable with the silence. Part of him hoped that Mokuba would return quickly. And the other part of him hoped Mokuba would take a bit longer- Just long enough for him to-

"So, uh-" Joey tried to sound casual and unassuming. "You still talk to those other guys? That big blonde one, Rafael, or uh- Valon? How's Valon doing these days?" Joey leaned forward expectantly in his seat.

Amelda chuckled. He met Joey dead in the eye and spoke.

You're asking me? Why don't you ask your girlfriend?

"Ah? Ah? What was that?" Joey grimaced and ran his pinkie through his ear, as if trying to dislodge a sudden abundance of earwax. "I can't understand you. You know what? English is just too difficult. Forget it. Whatever."

He laced his arms behind his head, sunk back in his chair, and sulked.

Amelda snickered. He turned down to where the cat was scratching its ears against his hand. He didn't seem like he was going to stop smiling anytime soon, so Joey took it upon himself to avert his eyes.

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"Serenity? Hey, Serenity! Sis?! You there?"

Joey ran his toe against the fringe of his futon, as he waited for Serenity to come to on the other end of the phone.

She startled. Her breath crackled electric. Like the sharp, cutting air that had gathered above the water.

"Yes-?! Onii-san-? I'm listening!"

Joey laughed. "C'mon, I've been trying to tell you about Yuugi's camping trip for the past fifteen minutes. This must be the fifth time you've gone static on me. You sure you're okay?"

Paper and plastic shuffled at the other end of the line.

"You haven't told me anything about his trip," Serenity mumbled. "You've just complained that he's gone."

"What was that?!" Joey gaped in fake offense.

"Nothing, onii-chan!" Serenity said, in a voice dripping with faux-sweetness. It held for a minute, before they both broke into giggles.

"Hehe. Naw, but-" Joey sat up straight in his seat. "Really, Serenity? If something's bothering you, you can always tell me about it."

"Of course, onii-chan," Serenity said easily. "It's just- It's not anything. Everything's fine. Everything will be fine… I'm getting all my work done. Everything's great. The vacation's soon… I'm only a bit tired from school is all."

Joey tried to focus in the moment that settled after this announcement. She had more or less let it slip that she was having a rough time of something. He tried to measure how to prod further, how to best to get her to say more.

"Ah, that doesn't sound fine to me-"

He had waited a bit too long, though, because Serenity spoke up at the same moment. And spoke over him.

"You remember when we first met each other, for Golden Week five years ago? For the card tournament on the blimp?"

There was another pause. Something about the way Serenity had phrased this struck him as off. It wasn't as if Battle City had been the first time they met, but-

"Eh… yeah?" Joey agreed.

"Heh~" Serenity laughed weakly. "I was kind of worried about what kind of impression I'd make, what kind of expectations I might need to live up to. Hiroto and Ryuuji came to pick me up, and the only clothes I had to wear were the ones I came to the hospital in. I kept thinking I should have picked something nicer. And then… It was a mess," Serenity laughed. "I ended up diving into the water, and met you smelling like seaweed. And Mai-san had such a beautiful voice. And then, when I took my blindfold off, she was just breath-taking. And then she was comatose… I didn't know you'd have blonde hair. And the foreigners scared me. And Noa-kun and his brothers scared me. And then you were put on life support, after your heart stopped…

"But-" Serenity continued. "I remember the way you were shaking when you climbed up onto the pier. And when you almost surrendered during the duel with Rishid-san. A couple of the things you said to me. It seemed like you were worried about what kind of expectations I had of you, too. And what kind of impression you wanted to make on me." Serenity's voice was soft and clear. "Despite what Mom and Grandfather said, I felt happy to know that Jounouchi-kun, who seemed to be worried about the same things that I was, and who made me feel less alone."

Joey's heart was tangling up in his throat. He was too exposed.

"D-Does that make sense?" Serenity asked.

Joey gulped. "Sis, I- I'm so sorry," he rushed out. "I didn't know Battle City had been such a difficult experience for you."

Well, he had known it. But it was one of those things he tried not to think about.

"No, Joey?! That's not what I-"

"I'm so sorry, sis! I wanted it to be a wonderful trip for the both of us." It was so convincing, he even felt himself begin to tear up. He sniffled and pressed on. "I know I had a lot on my mind with Mai, and Malik and Rishid, and Yuugi, and everyone and everything. But I should have made more time for you. I should have made sure you were okay. I should have protected you."

"Joey-" Serenity clipped, dripping with sympathy and frustration.

"I'm so sorry, Serenity!" Joey insisted. "I don't know how- I don't know if you can forgive me…"

He couldn't. He couldn't let his sister thank him for being weak.

For a long moment Serenity was silent. And then there was a sigh from the other end of the line. "It's fine. I forgive you, onii-san. There's really not anything to be- It's fine. It's fine, onii-san." Serenity's voice was pitched low with unenthusiasm. "And- And I don't want you to think this is related to our conversation at all but, I'm sorry, I really do have to go. I have to be up early for an eight o'clock class tomorrow and- I'm sorry."

Even in the struggle of trying to take Serenity's words at face value, Joey couldn't help but feel a little relieved.

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Serenity." He chuckled. "I mean, heh, you're getting your work done. And you can't help how early you have class tomorrow."

"Yeah," Serenity said vaguely. "Sorry. Have a good night, Joey. Sorry."

The call cut out, before Joey could wish his sister a good night in return. He felt his face scrunch, as he looked at the screen, now blank of anything except the slowly churning numbers on the digital clock. He watched the final two digits slide from fifty-four to fifty-six, and massaged his shoulder idly, before standing and regarding the living room.

Joey curled his toes, crinkling the top layer of his futon's comforter in their grasp. He was leaving the couch free for his father, although it seemed Jounouchi senior hadn't spent the night at all in the past three days. Joey knew his father had been by, because of the way that food, sake, and trash moved around the apartment in his absence. But he hadn't seen his father in person. Still, it was wrong to sleep on the couch, Joey thought. It was one thing to use it as a headrest sitting in his own futon, or to sit in it during the day while watching television – back when their television still worked. But, even looking at the couch now, Joey shivered. He couldn't explain, but it just wasn't right to sleep on.

Joey's holey socks padded against the carpet, as he walked into the kitchen. He checked the fridge. The mouldy avocado had finally disappeared, but nothing had moved in to replace it, let alone any of the other food that had actually been eaten. Only Kaiba's kimchi mayonnaise sat cordoned off on the top shelf.

The rice cooker proved slightly more reliable. There was one serving of rice left in it, and Joey scooped it with the rice paddle directly into his dirty palm. He shaped it roughly into a ball, and bit into it.

On the counter was a magazine with a glossy cover. He'd been distracted first by the heading on the newspaper. He'd stopped by the stands near the metro, and read through the entertainment section right there. The Return of Banja: the Robot Dragon of Eons Lost had broken several box office records the first weekend of its release. It had already made back triple its exorbitant production cost, and ticket sales were still climbing and expected to accelerate going into the rest of Golden Week. Kaiba Corp was now publicising its connection with the movie. A popular restaurant chain had signed a merchandising deal to distribute Banja themed food items and placemats.

And then the hobby magazine had caught his eye, with Banja roaring on the cover. It boasted interviews with the cast and crew, and was wrapped in cellophane – a measure to prevent people from reading it without purchasing it. At one point Joey would have just unwrapped it and left it, or otherwise stolen it. But he'd flipped it over and looked at the price. And nine hundred yen wasn't enough money to buy decent food for longer than half a day, but it was enough to buy a fucking magazine. And he wasn't going to be a stingy piece of shit and not buy it when he had nine hundred yen and wanted to read it.

Now that the magazine was safely purchased and sitting on his kitchen counter, it was time to open the plastic wrap. With one hand still occupied holding his onigiri, he used his elbow to pin the magazine to the table, as he dug his nails into the plastic wrap with the other hand. He rolled the plastic in a ball the best he could and flicked it to the other side of the counter, before digging in.

It wasn't all about Banja – the magazine had several feature articles and photo spreads about other movies and hobby products. Joey flipped through them, trying hard to admire the quality of the full colour glossy printing and high density paper, as if this could stave off the dull sting of buyer's regret. He slowed down when he finally found the article he was looking for, but only enough to skim the text and admire the pictures. The screen actors that had played Takashi-kun and Himeko-chan, as well as the voice actors that had played Banja, Mizuko-chan, and the Space Overlord Monya-Monya, had all gotten photo shoots and lengthy interviews – which Joey told himself he would read in full later. But there didn't seem to be anything about Kaiba at all, none of the speech that had touched Joey at the premiere. In fact, the only thing that cued Kaiba's connection with the magazine at all, was the small KC icon in the corner of a couple of the photos.

A couple of stray grains of rice dropped onto the magazine, from where Joey was stuffing his palm inside his mouth. He rushed to brush them off the page, and rub away the glutinous residue with the tips of his fingers. He became frustrated and pushed the magazine away.

Even more than when he was working in the centre of Domino's financial district- Even more than when he was sitting next to Kaiba at a worldwide movie premiere-

It was standing next to the 'no littering' signs at the train terminal, clandestinely reading that newspaper- It was here, hunched over an overpriced magazine in his dinky kitchen, eating a dinner that was about as satisfying as one could expect from a ball of plain white rice, that he felt the vast expanse of the prosperity all around him – dangling just out of reach.

And it seemed revealing and humiliating to just go and demand his share of it. But he'd been thinking about it all week – counting the days off on his fingers. And really, even if it made him seem ignorant or untrusting, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was long overdue.

.

.

Satou-chan scribbled his time of departure in the margins of her notes, and waved him off. She wouldn't be leaving for another hour or so.

Joey stood firmly in place. He steeled himself. This wasn't like with Yamada-san, who he could count on to be cruel. Satou-chan was actually nice, and made it all that much more difficult. "Ah, Satou-chan, I've been working here since the beginning of April. That's, uh, over a month ago now."

Satou-chan blinked. She paused in her typing, and looked up at Joey.

"Yes," she agreed unsurely. "We're all very impressed with your hard work thus far, Wheeler-san. Please continue to work your hardest under our care." She bowed her head shortly, and turned back to her work.

Joey felt himself flush with embarrassment and pride. "Er- That's very, uh- Thanks, Satou-chan." He couldn't help the shy smile that pulled at his lips. "But I wanted to ask about my pay. I mean, I'm not really used to this salaryman stuff and…" he trailed off hopefully.

Satou-chan's face wrinkled in confusion. "You're not salaried." She looked up from her computer. "You're paid on an hourly wage."

"A-ha," Joey faltered. "My mistake then. But, uh, you did tell me that we were paid with checks right? Monthly?"

"Are you asking to borrow money for tomorrow's drinking party, Wheeler-san?" Satou-chan's nose pinched. "If that is the case, regrettably, I must refuse."

"No, it's not that."

"Then you noticed an error with your payment?" Satou-chan inquired. "Then you'll need to bring your check and paystub here, and I'll look it over and reissue a new one."

"Er, yeah, that's what I'm trying to figure out. When is it that you guys pass out the monthly checks?" Joey groaned in frustration. "I mean, I know you said there was a little bit of a delay, and I don't know exactly what the schedule is, but can I at least get an ETA on when this is gonna be happening? 'Cause living expenses are kind of catching up with me, and I got something I need to pay off in about a week."

Satou-chan's expression seemed very calculated and blank. She looked at Joey for a second, before digging into her desk. She pulled out a large calendar, filled in with appointments, and turned it to face him.

"Bimonthly," she corrected. "Twice a month. You keep saying monthly." She beckoned Joey forward and gestured at the dates using a capped ballpoint pen. She flipped back to April, found the Wednesday column, and pointed to the top. "You began working with us on the third of April." She slid her pen to the Monday column and bracketed two days. "The payment for the weeks of April first and April eighth was sent out on the following Monday, April fifteenth. Which is also the start of the next pay period." She bracketed out the next two weeks. "You should have just received your second payment. Your next payment will not be processed and sent until the thirteenth of May."

The pieces were starting to form together into a puzzle. One that Joey didn't quite like the look of. "Wait, so you're saying I should have gotten paid twice already?"

Satou-chan nodded primly.

"And by the checks being sent out, you mean…"

Satou-chan cocked a critical eyebrow. "You haven't checked your mail, Wheeler-san?"

Even though there were more important things on the line, Joey couldn't help but bristle at the implication he had somehow been irresponsible. Yeah, okay, so the last time he checked his mail was a few weeks ago – flipping through a pile of fliers and notices at the table. But so what if he didn't keep on top of it? There had so rarely been anything in the mail worth looking at.

But, now that there had been something worth looking at, he could no longer distract himself from the important piece of information here: His dad was the one that held onto the mailbox key.

Joey felt his shoulders clench tightly. "You sent my paycheck to my apartment?!" he roared.

Satou-chan flinched and drew back automatically. Then she scowled, and her eyebrows twisted into harsh and jagged lines. She was furious that he had managed to scare her.

"Of course I had it sent there! Everyone has their checks sent home!" Satou-chan retaliated. "I asked for your address the very first day you started working here, didn't I? You should have given the address for a post-box if you didn't want it sent home."

"Yeah?! Well, I would have given you Yuugi's address if I had known!" Joey shouted. "Fuck!" He jerked back suddenly, and winced as he accidentally knocked a plastic cup of pens and a ruler off of Satou-chan's desk. He paced around the room and breathed.

"Wheeler-san, you will calm down this instant. And stop yelling," Satou-chan instructed coldly. She righted the things on her desk, and leaned over to see what Joey had spilled on the floor.

What was it that Kyoutarou had told him? That his father had walked into his gambling parlour with a huge lump sum of cash, and that's why they had lost track of how much he owed? And Joey had assumed at the time that his father had won big at one of his games, and then squandered the winnings. But that was two weeks ago… which lined up rather suspiciously with the schedule that Satou-chan had just laid…

"The checks! Have they been cashed already?!" Joey insisted. "Can you check? Can you-"

"Wheeler-san…" Satou-chan huffed dangerously.

This wasn't getting him anywhere, except in the doghouse with regards to Satou-chan. She'd just arranged the details of his payment. She didn't know about his father. She didn't even know who Yuugi was.

"No! I gotta-! Kaiba!" Joey called. He rushed up to Kaiba's doors, and slid his keycard against the mechanism. He flung both the double doors open.

Inside the room, there was a rustle and flutter at the table, like Joey had invited in a great gust of wind that had peeled a layer of dust off of everything inside. Kaiba looked up to him with jaw slack and opened eyes, and communicated a visceral surge of fear and relief. And, more so, communicated an understanding that he had lapsed. If only momentarily, Kaiba had completely forgotten to pretend he was too busy with work to be distracted by someone so far beneath his attention.

Then Kaiba's pupils almost seemed to twist in on themselves and shut. He redirected himself back down to his laptop, and returned to the swiftness of typing and clicking. Trying to provide as much counterevidence for his affectedness as was possible – as much as he could squeeze into the three seconds it took for Joey to bound across the room and plant himself in front of Kaiba's desk.

Joey, though, could not bring himself to give a shit about whatever was going on in Kaiba's head right now. "Kaiba!" he demanded.

Joey jittered and bounced on his toes, as Kaiba took a requisite three seconds to acknowledge he had heard Joey speak.

"Wheeler," he returned.

"My paychecks!" Joey demanded. "Where are they?! What happened to them?!"

Kaiba's brow arched. "Wheeler? What are you-?"

"My paychecks!" Joey insisted. "Please! For the love of god, Kaiba! Can you find out what happened to them?!"

Kaiba seemed unimpressed with this. He seemed to consider this for a moment. But then he pushed his laptop to one side, and wiggled the mouse on his desktop computer.

There were a tense couple of minutes, where Joey focused on the pull of his breath, and tried not to grind his feet anxiously into Kaiba's carpet.

"Hn," Kaiba grunted. And Joey had to stop himself from demanding what the hell that meant, before Kaiba tilted the screen on his desktop, so it stood perpendicular between them. Joey scrambled up to the desk and leaned over to look at it beside Kaiba.

"The checks were processed, and the money removed from this account. It's a budget for the executive branch of Kaiba Corp at this location." Joey couldn't process the amount of red and black on the screen, but Kaiba zoomed in on one figure. He narrowed the field, such as to select two payments. He followed each of them to what appeared to be a banking website, where the endorsement on the back of the checks popped up.

"Here we are," Kaiba confirmed. "The checks were signed over to a Miyabi Financial Services on the seventeenth and… thirtieth of last month, respectively, at which point they submitted the checks through the bank and to our system." Kaiba turned to him and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Not by any action of yours, I take it?"

Joey felt too enraged to form a response more involved than just angry huffing.

Kaiba shrugged. "Their address is included in their stamp," he pointed to the corresponding line where the check had been stamped and signed over to its new payee, "if you want to visit their premises and follow up with what happened." He paused a minute, obviously waiting for Joey to either memorise the address or copy it down. (Joey didn't need to. He knew the exact street corner that the dingy money mart sat at, six blocks from his apartment complex. It was, in fact, the exact location he had planned on cashing the checks himself.) And then Kaiba closed the windows for the bank ledger, and tilted the screen of his desktop computer back. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Kaiba hesitated almost wistfully, before reaching back for his laptop. He pulled it in front of him and committed himself to typing.

And Joey watched him, and felt the burn of something a whole lot like hatred. He might be going, but he wasn't going down alone.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," Joey interrupted urgently. "You don't get to just sit this one out."

Joey reached over the desk, and slammed Kaiba's laptop shut with a commanding shove of his hand. He didn't think twice before slamming both his palms against the hardwood panel of Kaiba's desk, didn't think about what he was buying with the pain that shot up his arms at the point of collision.

He leaned forward and glared. "You're coming with me to fucking fix this, rich boy!"

Kaiba blinked at the closed laptop, and stilled. For a moment he sat, frozen and unmoving. Then he turned up to Joey's angry eyes, and froze again.

For a second, Joey wondered if Kaiba had misunderstood something. And then, a second later, Kaiba stood up and began collecting himself for departure, and Joey was sure he had.

.

.

Joey had to jog to keep up with Kaiba, as he brushed past Satou-chan, out to the elevator, and through the parking garage. Kaiba slammed himself down into the driver's seat of a sleek black sports car. He had the keys in the ignition before pressing the button to unlock the door to the passenger seat. And Joey had barely scrambled inside and not even finished pulling the door closed behind him before the car jerked backwards.

Kaiba drove like a man running out of time, and one who rather didn't care if it ran out sooner rather than later. Which rather suited Joey's current sense of urgency, as he tried and failed to perform the mental math needed to calculate out his last month's salary in his head and weigh it against the four hundred thousand plus he owed Kyoutarou. The car's headlights seemed dull and soft, and Joey imagined they were a sleek black bullet in the night, rocketing through Domino's streets waiting for inevitable collision. It came, when Kaiba screeched to a halt in the middle of the financial services' parking lot. He kicked the door open, and smoothly pressed the clicker to lock the car, so it beeped behind him.

It was one of only three cars in the lot, and yet it stuck out like a sore thumb next to a ratty pickup, and a modest sedan from the eighties. Something Kaiba appeared to take no notice of. But, whatever, if Kaiba couldn't be bothered to worry about whether or not he was setting himself up for someone to smash in the window on his car, Joey certainly didn't have the time to be worrying about the same.

Now Kaiba was hovering six paces behind him beneath the yellow fluorescents, arms crossed and glaring intently at the back of Joey's head, as Joey talked to the woman behind the grated window.

"What do you mean you followed protocol?!" he shouted.

The woman behind the counter leaned back, away from the pulse of his voice.

"We have the signatures, a copy of the ID, and copies of both the checks right here."

The woman unbundled her pack of paperwork, and drew his attention across the white paper with swipes of a yellow highlighter. She turned carbon paper receipts over in her hands, filled with terms and stipulations and the ever-present logo for Miyabi Financial Services.

"Everything checks out," she said. "We have record that the checks cleared, and we paid the recipient the full sum in cash, save the transaction fees, of course."

"He's not the recipient!" Joey shouted. "It's not his check! The names don't even match!"

He waved wildly at the photocopies of the checks across the table.

The cashier raised a sceptical eyebrow.

He tore angrily at his pocket, and fished out his wallet. His face burned with shame, as he passed over his old school ID, with the preferred name Joey Wheeler, for his Resident Registration Card.

"Look!" he demanded. "The check is made out to 'Jounouchi Joey', not 'Jounouchi Joseph'. It's my name! It's my money!"

The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He felt he could just hear Kaiba and the others silently laughing at his tacky joke of a name.

The woman behind the counter blinked at his identification, then to the check, and the scanned photo of his father's ID.

"It's the same name and address," she said.

"It is not the same name!" Joey shouted. "It's 'i'! Jyo-u-i! Not Jyo-se-fu! It's two fucking characters off!"

Joey knew the woman only grew more firm and detached the more he yelled, but the idea of stopping himself seemed so unreachably far-

"Foreign names are complicated," the woman said. "A lot of our clients have trouble adapting them accurately in the naturalisation process. Hmm, we have a copy of an American driver's licence, too."

She flipped the page to another photocopy. Joey immediately recognised the flowing characters, UTAH, at the top of the card. His father bore a rather disturbing resemblance to Serenity, smiling nearly thirty years younger in the photo.

The woman highlighted the name, Joseph Wheeler.

"'Joey' is just a nickname for 'Joseph' anyhow, isn't it?" she asked.

Joey ignored the question.

"It's my name on the check!" he insisted. "And my money you handed out to somebody else! So you better pony up a solution!"

"There's nothing I can do," the woman said firmly.

For a second, Joey was struck silent by the truth of this.

Then the woman continued.

"You may want to contact the bank, or your company's payroll. But – same surname, same address. This seems like a family matter to me."

Joey grit his teeth.

"You piece of shit robbers!" Joey raged. "You gave away my money and-"

"That's enough."

Joey turned.

Kaiba's voice was calm, and yet it commanded an utmost respect be paid to him.

Joey blinked. He wondered with a hope he barely dared to believe, let alone believe without the poison touch of hate and shame, if something about Kaiba's demeanour could influence this woman in a way that he couldn't. If Kaiba could somehow salvage this situation for him.

"We're leaving," Kaiba said. He stepped forward, grabbed the back of Joey's shirt, and pulled him away from the cashier's window.

Joey struggled. But Kaiba's betrayal had sapped his energy, and Kaiba kicked the back of his leg.

"Thank you for your time," Kaiba drawled at the cashier, in the most prescriptive, clinical, and fake voice Joey had ever heard, before he dragged Joey out the door.

"Wha-?!" Joey raged.

"Shut up," Kaiba hissed quietly, as he pressed the swinging doors at the front of the financial services centre open, and pushed Joey out onto the curb.

"What the fuck, Kaiba?!" Joey spat, rounding on him like a mad dog.

Kaiba kept walking, leading them away from the front doors. Joey was losing patience when they were about twenty paces away, and Kaiba finally stopped and answered.

"They were calling the police on you, you simpleton," Kaiba hissed. "A worker in the back had a phone at the ready. Unless you wanted to spend the night sleeping in a cell, you should be thanking me."

Joey grumbled. He stepped away from Kaiba, and paced back and forth on the sidewalk.

Kaiba stood, bored. His eyes rolled up to watch the sky. His hands were in his pockets. And he was bundled up in a heavy black winter coat, even now though it had been a warm winter, and they were now safely in the prevue of a warmer spring.

And Joey realised – he really fucking hated the bastard.

"Thanking you?!" Joey mocked, belatedly. "What the hell should I be thanking you for?! This is your fault!"

Kaiba seemed to find this utterly boring too. He didn't deign it with a response.

"You know, if I had known you were going to mail out the checks, this never would have happened," Joey accused. "I would never have given Satou-chan my home address. Hell, if you gave out cash in fucking envelopes like a goddamn normal employer-!"

Kaiba considered this impassively. He seemed completely unruffled by the way Joey swarmed angrily around him.

Joey's feet pounded angrily on the concrete, as he honed in.

"You need to do something," he demanded. "This is your fault. You need to cut me another check."

"Hn." Kaiba snorted. "I don't see how. I paid you for your time and services, as agreed. You, or someone in your family, cashed the check. I certainly shouldn't have to pay twice for you only having worked once."

Joey growled in frustration.

Joey had seen the amounts on the checks his father had cashed. Kaiba had not, like so many of his employers had, skimmed money off the top of what he owed. He had paid Joey in full for his time, at the rate Joey had asked for – two thousand five hundred yen per hour. And he hadn't docked pay for the various mishaps that Joey had encountered as he bumbled his way through Kaiba Corp.

He hated that he agreed with Kaiba. He hated that he knew Kaiba well enough that he couldn't avoid looking and seeing Kaiba's side of things – that Kaiba had done exactly what he was obligated to as an employer, and that it wasn't fair to expect him to pay extra just because Joey had stumbled his way into the hell scenario.

"Well, put pressure on Miyabi Finances then!" Joey tried. "I can't be the only person they're doing this to! Cashing Kaiba Corp checks and handing the money out to people who it doesn't belong to."

Kaiba snorted again. "Exactly. Kaiba Corp employs over five thousand employees within the city limits alone. How many do you think use this, and similar types of services, to cash their checks? By my understanding, it is common to send a family member – a spouse or parent or sibling – on errand to cash a check. How much trouble do you think I'd be causing, by putting pressure on companies like this, and insisting they follow protocol?"

"It's not like you to think of the trouble you're causing others," Joey snarled.

Kaiba didn't respond to this, either. He apparently knew, that Joey knew, that he was right.

Joey continued pacing, back and forth on the sidewalk. Like if he moved fast enough, he could outrun his own thoughts.

The night was dark and the streets felt lonely. Passers-by were scarce, and the only one who walked past them ducked into the gutter to avoid them.

Joey paced. He owed Kyoutarou four hundred forty-six thousand yen by the eleventh of May. Which meant that he had nine days to get the money together. When he had not a penny to his name, not a loan shark in town he hadn't alienated, and a job that wouldn't be sending out another paycheck for a week and a half. That was almost fifty thousand yen a day he'd have to raise. Or he'd just have to come to terms with life in indentured servitude to the yakuza. Assuming he couldn't beg Kyoutarou for another chance. Which seemed unlikely seeing as he'd already done that earlier in the same month.

He ran the numbers in his head again. And again. Until he forgot all the numbers in the face of the all-consuming truth.

He was completely and utterly sunk.

Kaiba was standing, completely calm, in his dark coat. He reached into his coat pocket, and drew out a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter. He fumbled with the package, and drew out one Castor Gold, which he placed delicately at his lip. He lit it quick and clipped. Inhaled, and exhaled up to the sky.

Joey halted in his pacing. He stood right in front of Kaiba, marvelling at how they could stand a mere metre apart, and not be pulled into the same stretch of quicksand.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Joey demanded.

Kaiba looked down. He blinked at Joey nonplussed, as he took a long drag from the cigarette.

"What?" Kaiba asked.

Joey was in no mood for this, though. He snatched the cigarette from Kaiba's hand and threw it to the ground. The heat of it warmed his hand for only a second.

"I swear to fuckin' god!" Joey spat.

He lifted his foot and stomped down on the cigarette, grinding it into the cement in rhythm.

"I swear-"

Joey stomped.

"Every time I turn around-"

He stomped again.

"You've found-"

Stomp.

"A new way-"

The hot tobacco spilled out, spread unevenly onto the cement, and on the bottom of Joey's Air Muscle shoes.

"To kill yourself!"

Kaiba looked down at the stain on the ground, almost like he was lamenting the lost cigarette. For a minute, Joey thought he'd only pull another one from the pockets of his coat, but then his hand curled into a fist and he let it fall to his side.

Kaiba smiled sadistically. "Alright, Wheeler, here's an idea for you."

Joey couldn't help the way his ears perked to attention.

"Kaiba Corp refutes any responsibility towards the reissuing of payments that were lost by, or stolen from, its employees – of which you are not going to be the exception." Kaiba shook his head. "I'm not cutting you another check, Wheeler."

Joey waited for the other shoe to drop.

"But-" Kaiba continued, "-there are a number of company services I'd be willing to accommodate to your use in sorting out this unfortunate situation." Kaiba smirked. "I'll give you the full power of the Kaiba Corp legal team."

A sinking feeling was pooling in Joey's gut. He raised an eyebrow.

Kaiba's voice was soft, but he continued speaking with a vicious, rapturous pleasure.

"File a theft report," he said with finality. "They'll help you press charges. My lawyers can bleed him dry – for every penny he has. They can even get your father locked up – help you fabricate a story and evidence to do so." Kaiba gave a pleased hum. "Or maybe they don't even have to fabricate anything. Maybe you'll stand there and tell the truth, and your father will crumble and break right there under the pressure."

Joey's eyes widened.

"Do that," Kaiba commanded coldly. "And then maybe you can salvage some of your paycheck."

And then it happened.

Joey wasn't exactly sure how, even now, but it had happened.

It was probably the element of surprise. Maybe Kaiba had blinked in the inopportune moment before it happened, so his eyes were closed. And, even if he hadn't, not even Joey had seen it coming, so maybe there was nothing on his face for Kaiba to read into.

And Joey knew Kaiba was prepared for stuff like this – he was prepared for everything – but he was prepared for this especially, caught between his father's quest for perfection and fear for his brother's safety.

Maybe it was because Honda and Yuugi weren't there to hold him back. The way they had at Duellist Kingdom, and Battle City, and countless times at school – because the last thing Joey wanted to do was get himself suspended and have to spend a week at home.

Or, maybe, it was the other reason – the one he hated to think about. Maybe he was more like his father than he wanted to admit. Maybe he hadn't changed as much as he liked to imagine. And no matter how old he got, no matter how much he tried to be different, there was still a fever and violence in him. And he couldn't sweat out the reflex he had from all those years with Hirutani.

Or, maybe, it was because, prior to getting the job at Kaiba Corp, Joey had spent the last three months or so lifting boxes and lumber and metal in a warehouse. And Kaiba had spent them in meetings and offices and research labs.

So Joey lunged forward, and punched Kaiba right in his pompous, stuck-up, heartless face, for even suggesting that Joey should try to get his dad arrested. For trying to make Joey's relationship with his dad into some fucked up game, the way Kaiba had with Gouzaburou.

But then Kaiba went down like a lead balloon – a cold thud against the cement.

And Joey heard himself let out a whimper, and he clasped his hands worriedly over his mouth, like a total girl.

He swung his hands back down, and glanced nervously to the sides, before he rushed to Kaiba's side and squatted down next to him on the cement.

"Kaiba?" Joey said, softly. "Kaiba, that's not funny!" he continued, more frantically.

He paused a moment, then jabbed a pair of fingers under Kaiba's neck.

Kaiba's eyes spun open, unfocussed and groggy.

"Kaiba! Get up!" Joey insisted. "Stay with me! This isn't funny!"

Kaiba's pulse was beating against his fingers, hypertensive. His throat shuddered as he let out an unintelligible grunt.

"Get up!" Joey urged. He was aware of the feeble whine that had snuck into his voice.

"Nuh- No." Kaiba eyes rolled away. "Nn- Fuck you," he said succinctly, before curling his head into his shoulder and passing back out.

Joey squatted down to the street, and listened to the way Kaiba's breathing evened as he committed himself to unconsciousness. He pulled his hand away and tried to remember whether you were supposed to let someone sleep after you knocked them out. But even though it hadn't been all that long since he'd last laid someone out on the cement – not long enough by far – he couldn't remember ever caring if they came to in an alley slouched against a dumpster, or lying on the couch in the J'z Café with Hirutani holding a cold can of beer to your face, or even as a ghost floating in the morgue.

Joey resisted the urge to reach forward and peel Kaiba's eyelid open, and watch the shining iris circle under the lid.

Shit.

Joey rubbed his hand anxiously up his arm. Somehow, in the swirl of his mind, he was aware that he was supposed to have taken this job as a favour to Kaiba. And that, when Joey's "favour" failed to produce what he himself needed, he'd knocked Kaiba to the ground, and in doing so had somehow betrayed himself and the impurity of his intentions.

.

.

AN: Happy approximate two year anniversary to this fic. This concludes Act One. Act One of Three.

Next time on Lottery Ticket – Joey finds Kaiba lying beat up in the streets and takes him home to his mansion shithole of an apartment. The usual clichés.