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"Raving Mad"
By Ryuniyo
Started: 4/2/06
Ended: 4/3/06
-My first one shot, my first posted SxJ story. I hope you all enjoy, this idea had been haunting me in the lulls of the day. Originally it was going to be novel length with each chapter dedicated to the country Joey was in. Seem to be too much of a project for me, so I hope you enjoy what I have. It was seriously a midnight-spur. Please review!
-Ryu
I think I fixed most of the problems. If I missed some I'm terribly sorry. Thank you for the supportive reviews.
- - - - - - - -
"I'm going out for a bit!"
I can feel their stares on my back. I'm not crazy--not anymore.
It must have rained a few minutes before: the asphalt shimmers like obsidian, the air is heavily moist, crisp, and delicately sweet. Droplets desperately clinging onto the limbs of trees, cave in, and fall.
The pain is just a throb now--dull, distant, yet still there. Time doesn't heal all, or however that sympathetic bullshit goes. I'm still bleeding--just by drops now.
You haven't been in the news recently. Odd seeing how you're so anal about being in the limelight. I guess it really is mostly my fault. I should have known things were doomed once the words, "don't call me, I'll call you" poured out of your mouth. I should have heeded the weary, cautious tone to your voice. (Were you afraid the press would have a filed day from spotting you talking to me?) Were you really that paranoid so early into the façade? I guess you truly were since you made me stand approximately 3 feet from you and keep my face bland, like I was some subordinate waiting on your command.
But I didn't heed all those little things. Those now glaringly red warning flags. No, I was truly like some love sick puppy who believed our love was strong enough to prevail. I waited hours near the phone, hoping you would call. You did call, once a week if I was lucky. And when you did call, the first words out of your mouth, "I can't talk for long." in that hushed tone I grew to hate, as if you were ashamed…but you were, weren't you? Seto Kaiba, Gay with a capital G. You couldn't let that out, so you hid me--the evidence. Shoved me in the back of the closet with your skeletons; left to collect dust and fade away--but still be accessible after a little rummaging.
Yet I still went along with it. Convincing myself that the rich and famous, such as yourself, had to be careful. The sway of the public's opinion could make or break you, and for your sake I would. I would allow you to erase me: for your sake I would fade away, for your sake I would sit patiently--collect dust and wait out this phase.
This phase…only a phase. I kept drilling this into my head. I kept desperately clinging on to your urgent, "just a little longer", "not long now, I swear", "almost through"--false bones of hope to wag in front of the silly mutt.
This "phase" only got worse. You rarely called thrice in 6 months, and every morning I deceived myself into believe today would be the day you call and tell me that everything is ok…or at least give me a taste of the voice that once so long ago laughed for me, sang for me, whispered softly terms of endearment. But you never did, not even on my birthday.
Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did. You began to pop up in the news, in magazines, and t.v.--and you weren't alone. She was with you as well.
She's pretty, I have to admit. Wide blue eyes, surgically perfected body and face, a dazzling smile that would make a diamond blush in shame. She's also filthy rich too. Utterly perfect, you two were really photogenic, and became to the masses the "IT" couple. What really shocked me was how happy you looked. If it was truly fake, I must say you are the best actor in the world. Your adoring smiles seemed so real, so sincere, so like the ones you once gave to me ions ago.
How did you two really meet? Are the articles true? Did the two of you really romantically meet on some cruise ship setting course to some exotic islands? Did you really dance the night away under the stars?
You never did answer those questions, you know. When you called me (months) after the gossip of you and your girl, all you said to me was "it's just a show, nothing is going on. All of it is just for show." And I believed you--at least I tried.
I guess the straw that finally broke the proverbial camel's back was when news of your engagement first reached my ears--no, no the first time I was in denial. So was the second, third, and fourth. I couldn't believe it; I wouldn't believe it. It was a mistake, it just had to be.
But it wasn't. I know it had to be true when you never called me. I knew it had to be true when Yugi rushed to my house, and stared at me piteously with his wide amethyst eyes. I knew it had to be true when I received the invitation to the wedding.
Did you send it to me, or did she? It must have been you, since only you knew I existed. That deep in the back of your closest, with your skeletons, I was still there waiting. Waiting until the dust choked me. I died that day, did you even know?
March 7, 2:43 pm. That's the day and time I was released from the hospital, only to be put in another. I was declared suicidal and insane--mad, raving mad--like a dog with rabies.
I should have been shot. I wanted to be shot. Anything and everything to stop the pain from devouring me. Do you know what a breaking heart feels like? Neither do I. By the time I snapped, my heart was just an empty shell--a husk of something that once was brimming with joy, life, love. You see, my heart couldn't break. You can't break something that isn't there. I guess (no I know) every lie, every false hope, everything you said and implied took something from me--my soul. And piece by piece, you dismembered me.
I stayed as a shell for days on days. I spoke only silence, I ate only air, I lived only death. I would have stayed that way too if she hadn't come for me.
When I first saw her, I mistook her for an angel. An angel of Death, sent to take me away. She wasn't an angel, but she did take me away. Away from the world I knew, away from Japan, away from you. We traveled the globe, staying for only a few days to a handful of months in one country. So far, we've been to 90 different countries together, and now I'm back, back to where it all began.
It's raining again; the rain falling on my skin makes me believe I'm alive. I am alive, or at least a part of me is. People love me, and I love them--but there is no one that I love as I had loved you--still do. Don't know why, perhaps I am still insane, mad--raving mad. Despite all you did and still do to me, I still love you. With all my heart; or at least the shell of it. Love makes you do crazy things, and apparently makes you crazy too.
It's not raining anymore, it's pouring. The roads are starting to disappear under a growing layer of water. I'm all alone right now, only a mad man would be out roving the streets by choice in weather such as this.
Ah. It seems I spoke too soon, I'm not alone. Another wretched soul is slowly trudging through the streets, apparently a drunk wretched soul. He trips into a puddle, and he's not moving. Poor guy must be drunk as a skunk. Well I can't abandon him; I'm crazy but not cruel.
He's muttering to himself, the pounding oncoming of the rain drowns his words though. It's too dark to see him clearly, but he's dressed in some dark coat.
"No more lies…no more…lies…I don't care, I don't care any more…"
His voice is gruff and hoarse, perhaps a man in his 30's or 40's. He becomes startled as I come closer; the water splashes with each step I take.
"Whose there! Go away. Fuck off, leave me alone…"
I stop, shadows still conceal his face. Silence--the thundering rain is mute to me, I dare not move. If my father taught me anything, it was to watch out for the erratic behavior of drunks--particularly depressed drunks.
A keen animalistic wail comes from the slumped figure before racking sobs come in.
"Sir?" I venture out, "Sir please come with me, its' pouring and you'll catch a cold and die."
"Let me die," he snarled. Curling into a tighter ball. I sigh and reach for my cell, I quickly dial her and tell her where I am. She agrees, just a simple sound of acknowledgement and I know she's on the way.
"Why do you want to die?" I coaxed out, trying to use the tactics the damn devious psychiatrists used on me when I was insane, officially insane. A derisive snort is my reply before he slurs out an answer,
"Because I deserve to…because I should…I fucked up everything…just to…just to be accepted, to please, to be safe…I lost…I lost…"
"What did you lose?"
"My…my precious…lover…my precious, precious…puppy."
I want to scream, I want to shout. Surely I can not be that despised. Surely life can not be so cruel.
"My Joey…"
Shit. You have got to be kidding me; you have got to be fucking kidding me. I began to laugh…and I don't remember stopping.
- -
That wasn't the end of the sick joke; no it went on. The hospital I took you to was the same hospital I was admitted to after the invitation. To make things worse, the doctor taking care of you is the same one who took care of me. I can feel his stare on me. I don't care…it's still raining outside.
He said you'll be ok, and that you're just resting now. I nod, but can't bring myself to move; to leave. I'm not required to stay, there's no reason for me to stay, but I do. He says I saved your life.
Were you truly so close to death? A nurse pushes in a cot, and leaves me alone. The room is dark, the only source of light is the light from the IKG and that which streams in from under the door. I still don't look at your face, afraid to see and feel that which still kills me.
It's quiet, it's dead, it's silent besides the steady beeping of the heart monitor. I fall asleep at the window…it's still raining.
- - -
I wake up and by your breathing, I know you aren't awake. It's early morning now, the faint fingers of dawn are creeping over the sky. I say it's about 5:45, and the absence of rain is thundering in the small room.
I'm still afraid to turn around--I keep my gaze to the window. I must have been staring for hours; the sky is now a brightening pink. The thirst for water clamps my throat and I quietly leave the room--I still don't look at you.
She's sleeping on the sofa in the lobby. The doctor, yours and mine, watches over her as her head rests on his lap. There's love in his eyes, and a serene air around them. Our eyes meet-- his intelligent eyes are such a refreshing shade of sweet crystal green. He nods and gives me a smile. A small smile, yet it warms me up. He too is another person who cares.
I continue on and follow the stairs down to the cafeteria. Very few people are here: mainly weary doctors, nurses, and interns scatter the vast cafeteria. I go and simply buy orange juice, before backtracking and getting two cups of tea. I take them to her and the doctor, estimating that she would be awake now since the clock reads 6:06--and she is.
She's beautiful as always. She gathers me into her arms, and we stay like that for awhile before I part with a kiss on the cheek. I wander the halls some more before returning to your room. I should have paid more attention, then I would have known you weren't alone.
"Not again Seto," a familiar voice sobs before being muffled by your shirt. It's Mokuba, and he's grown so much. It leaves me in shock and reminds me exactly how long ago everything was.
I want to leave. I need to get out, get away, and disappear. I can't bear to see Mokuba like this. I need to quietly sli--
"Joey?" Awe, hope, and disbelief; it's all in his voice. I say nothing, my hand is on the door lever but I don't move; I can't move. "Is it really you? Please…please don't let this be a dream."
He's coming closer, finally his arms wrap around my waist and he hugs me from behind. His grip is tight, as if he could clamp onto me and anchor me to the hospital, to his brother. Silence. I finally find my voice.
"Hello, Mokuba."
I'm proud to say my voice was calm and flat.
"Joey! It's really you," he cries into my heart, "it's really you."
I let him stay like that for awhile.
"I should leave."
"No! Joey no! Wait and let me explain!"
"What's there to explain Mokuba, there's nothing to be said and heard."
"Please! No, please listen. Just listen. I'm not telling you to take my brother back, but please…please just listen."
Listen to him.
No. No. You don't exist, you're nothing!
Listen to him.
Shut up, shut up.
Listen to him.
It hurts. My heart, it hurts.
Mokuba must have taken my silence for a yes, and he began:
"It really was just a show, it always was. The woman was Charlotte Sheronton, the daughter of Edward Sheronton, CEO of Sheronton Corp.--our rival in America. Seto was trying to find out who the spy was in the corporation. A secret project was leaked out, and Sheronton Corp. came out with the exact model that Seto designed himself. So for months, brother sought out bonds with the Sheronton Corp. pretending to be interested in making a few big deals. Mr. Sheronton was fooled and openly welcomed Seto with arms wide open, and Seto made the mistake of going in too deep.
Mr. Sheronton started bringing Charlotte to the business lunches, and excused himself for hours saying he had an emergency call to take. Brother soon caught on to Mr. Sheronton's plan, but it was too late. The media sank their claws into it, and ran with it. Soon pictures and stories popped up in the tabloid. Seto stormed up to Mr. Sheronton to deny the statements, but he was trapped. Mr. Sheronton was a malicious man, and he threatened to twist the story in his own favor if brother didn't play along. In the long run, I guess he expected brother to fall madly in love with his daughter, after all to Mr. Sheronton his daughter was the apple of his eyes. Nevertheless, it would be a blow to Kaiba Corp, a blow we couldn't take--at least not yet.
So Seto decided to fight fire with fire. He let Charlotte blabber whatever junk she could to the hungry press, let her concoct all the lies she wanted to, he never said a word. Seto decided to bide his time before he would strike. He set up a decoy who would slowly seduce Charlotte; it would take months because it wouldn't work effectively if it was a spur of the moment fling.
But Mr. Sheronton got wise to it, or at least suspected something. He began to screen Seto's phone calls, mail, and hired others to spy on him. But brother was always one step ahead of him. Soon he could see that his plan was beginning to work, Charlotte began to distance herself more and more. A friend, who worked for the press, had secretly taken pictures of Charlotte and the decoy and had a story ready to edit and print on a notice.
Everything was so close, but Mr. Sheronton sent things into near ruin when he announced that Seto and Charlotte were engaged. He was the one who sent out the wedding invitations. You received one, because you were the only person besides myself, who brother talked to. He must have assumed you were a close friend, and anticipated you to be the best man. Seto knew nothing about you receiving an invitation. He was stressed with breaking away as cleanly as he could. He relied heavily on Charlotte's foolish impulses, and finally he was rewarded--Charlotte eloped.
With a blast, the media was on fire. Our friend at the press milked all the sympathy he could for Seto, and popularity for Kaiba Corp grew while Sheronton Corp plummeted. Oddly enough, whilst this scandal came out so did a few others and Sheronton was all but destroyed. But all this happened too late--you were gone.
For months Seto searched for you. He learned about the invitation when Yami, Bakura, and Marik stormed in; ready to beat him into a pulp. When Seto heard of this, he wouldn't come out of his room for a week. He only emerged when he heard Yugi received a postcard from you from Peru. After that, Seto followed each and every postcard you sent to Yugi…"
The postcards…she was the one to actually initiate it. She always reminded me to send one out, always right before we left for our next country, our next world. I always did find it odd that she wanted me to keep the message general and short…could she have possibly known?
"…and he came back just last night. I was at Yugi's house--that's where I stayed while Seto was away. I received a phone call that Seto was hospitalized but his condition was stable. Yugi refused to let me come right away, he said it was too early and Seto needed his rest at the time. Does Yugi even know you are here?"
"No…"
Silence drifted over us. My mind was in a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts. He followed me. All 90 countries. Does that mean he still loves me? No, I won't give into hope so easily and break again. The burns I received are still there. Even if everything Mokuba said was true, surely Seto could have said something, done something, anything more than just clipped 60 second phone calls that were months apart.
"What now?"
I didn't answer right away.
"I disappear. Good-bye Mokuba."
I left him; I left both of them. I left the hospital, I left her, and I left hope. I ran.
- -
She found me. I knew she would sooner or later. She held two tickets in her hand, and simply waited by the trunk of the tree.
"You knew, didn't you." I wasn't accusing her, and I wasn't asking a question.
"I had my suspicions." She replies and adds as an afterthought. "Actions speak louder than words."
"When do we leave?" I ignored her usage of the cliché.
"Whenever you want."
"We leave tonight."
- -
The airport is empty; very few people roam the deserted terminals waiting for their plane. There's still an hour before we can board.
There's still time to turn back, and come back to him.
Her face is blank, not giving away any indication to which she prefers. The message is loud and clear--the choice is mine, and mine alone. Despite the small, desperate protest of my heart, I choose to be alone.
11:51, that's when I receive the phone call. It was a number I didn't know, I glanced at her but her face is set and blank.
"Hello?"
"He's gone!" Mokuba's frantic voice shots through and singes my ear. "He's gone! I can't find him, the hospital staff can't find him. He's gone Joey, he's gone. I--I…I--I…" he begins to hyperventilate.
"Calm down Mokuba, they'll find him soon. I prom-"
"Katsuya Jounouchi!" An angry voice howls; an angry familiar voice. A voice I repressed and buried in the back of my mind. A voice that made my pitiful heart flutters its broken wings. I guess in shock I dropped the phone--I don't remember any other sound besides the agonizingly loud mantra of my heart--pulsing and growing stronger with each and every beat. I dare not turn around.
"Katsuya Jounouchi. Look. At. Me." I feel a strong grip on my shoulder before I'm whirled around and see him, truly see him for the fist time in 22 months.
Those blazing eyes, that disarrayed locks of brown, that voice--hoarse but strong--Seto Kaiba.
"I will never, ever let you leave me ever again. I'd rather die than see you leave me again. Screw the media, screw what other people fucking think. I don't need them, I need you. I'd rather be in financial ruin and have you than be rich without you. I love you Katsuya. I love you."
You're crying. You're seriously crying--and so am I. I'm happy, I'm ecstatic, I'm alive. I'm crazy, I'm mad (raving mad) but so are you; and that's why our love survives.
"I love you, I love you, I love you."
I say it, you say it, and we both collapse. It's over, that phase; that seemingly endless phase is finally at its end. She's gone and you've found me--hidden in the back, covered with dust and faded but not forgotten, and most importantly truly loved.
"I love you, I love you, I love you."
I'm mad, you're mad, we're both mad in body, mind, and soul. We're crazy, we're mad (raving mad) for each other--that's why we're here; together.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
That's the mantra of my heart.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
That's the mantra of your heart.
Always, always, always.
That's the mantra of our heart.
Always faithful, always for you, always mad…raving mad…for you, for us.