Fall Back to Life

Chapter: 1

Title: Silver, Gold, and Glass

Fiction Rated: R, it's still all about the mature themes, and adult humour. Now with added sexual content, drug abuse, self mutilation and half the calories. Always fresh, never from frozen.

Disclaimer: If I ever came to own an empire, I'd probably be too lazy to keep it in the spotlight and everyone would forget about it. So—although I'm sure there are a few of you who wouldn't mind seeing Ali animated—be thankful that Takahashi Kazuki hasn't handed any rights over to me. I own Ali, though, and look what a loser she is.

Summary: Five years is a long time, it's long enough for a family to be torn apart, and a new one to form. It is enough time to learn to live, or to wait for death. In five years you can discover who you really are, and decide whether or not you like it. Unfortunately five years is also long enough to deep-root a grudge, rot a broken heart, and rebuild walls that were beginning to fall.

Ali splashed cold water on her face and stood still, letting it roll off in icy rivulets to land in the filthy steel sink. Wiping the excess moisture from her eyelids, she opened them and stared at her reflection in the streaked mirror.

Under the pale florescent lights her skin looked tired and washed out, the freckles that used to be so bright on her skin had faded, leaving only the lightest sprinkle of their existence. Her blonde hair hug past her shoulder blades in a depressingly-straight fashion, but it had been brushed, so she was content. She peered at her eyes, almost black in the light, and noticed light brown bangs beneath them.

Sleep had been a rare gem for the past week, which was unusual for the Russian considering how often she slept otherwise. But so many stressed decision making and late night brooding sessions had gone into getting her where she was now. She wiped a rough paper towel over her face and spit down into the sink.

Airport washrooms always seemed to be in the worst shape allowable to still meet health check standards. She washed her hands and then ran her wet fingers through her hair, hoping to hide the fact that it had been pressed against a seat for ten hours.

When she was satisfied with her appearance—or just too lazy to continue working on it—she turned around and stared at the olive-green bathroom stalls. There were four of them, but only one was occupied.

"Come on, Chloe, mommy can't wait forever. We have places to be, right?" she said gently, she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was very early in the morning, but she felt as though she should be eating dinner. Jetlag was never a good friend to the travelling.

A toilet flushed and the stall opened.

Chloe bounced out, her thick blonde hair tied in two low pigtails that hung to her hips. She was wearing a firm frown on her ripe, round mouth.

"They should wash in here." She complain, her childish voice pronouncing every word adorably in English. "Don't they wash in Japan?"

Ali laughed lightly, helping the small girl reach the taps to wash her hands. "I don't think any airport washes anything." She chuckled.

"I hate Japan." The child pouted. Ali handed her a paper towel and stared down into Chloe's shimmering brown eyes, a few flecks of blue could be seen peaking out from behind the brown topaz colour.

"You're only four; you shouldn't hate anything except G.I Joe." Ali groaned, "Besides, we've only been here for fifteen minutes. Wait until you get to a candy store, you'll totally forget that you're not here on vacation."

Chloe shrugged and let the Russian take her hand and lead her out of the washroom. Her black Mary Jane shoes clicked softly on the floor while Ali's heavy army boots clunked over the tiles. The two weaved through the crowds until they spotted another blonde seated on a bench and surrounded by suitcases.

"Mom!" Chloe yelled as soon ass they were close enough to be heard, "You should have seen the bathroom, it was so gross."

Mai stood up from the bench, and hugged the child. Ali stood back and watched.

It was impossible to deny that Mai—although not someone who could be called a 'traditional' mother—loved her daughter. And Ali could see why, the child was beautiful, she was intelligent, she knew what she wanted and how to get it. Anyone who knew Chloe knew that she had everyone wrapped around her finger. Her unique eyes and conservatively beautiful features got her everything she wanted, when she wanted it.

So when Mai had insisted on the trip to Japan—despite the fact that Chloe was starting her first year of school in a week—there had been many temper-tantrums and thrown stuffed animals.

A young man interrupted Ali's thought when he appeared with a trolley to take their bags out for them. Ali slung her worn black canvas bag over her shoulder and followed.

She didn't have to tag along for the trip, but after mulling over it, she'd realized that it was the right thing to do. She bit down on her lip at the thought. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do, after all, five years was a long time. The last time she had set foot in the country she'd been eighteen and immature.

Now she was twenty three and immature, but she wanted to check in on the life she had left behind. At least make sure that everything was all right.

Or everyone but she wasn't planning on going so far as that. Mai was in town for a fashion show, Chloe was crucial to the show since Mai was planning on introducing her line of children's clothing with Chloe as a model.

"Hey, Ali, get out of dream land and into the car." Mai prodded.

Ali blinked back to reality and realized that there was a green Mercedes Benz parked next to her. She immediately assumed it was the rental that Mai had called for.

"You never fail to travel stylishly." Ali laughed, pulling open the passenger door while Mai strapped Chloe—and her car seat—into the back.

"I'm expected to look good, and the people around me should, too." She smirked at Ali.

The Russian frowned and stared down at her outfit; a fitted black t-shirt with a bag of Skittles as the design. Her jeans fit her, and aside from a few scuffs and small rips, they were relatively new. There was a light fall jacket hanging above her knees, black and properly fitted at the waist. The green combat boots were barely visible.

"I think I look fine!" she said defensively.

"But you'd look better in my designs."

"Hey, I'm not your dress-up toy anymore, you have a kid now."

Mai sighed, "I know I do." She slipped into the front seat and buckled her seatbelt. Before she plugged the key into the ignition she turned to Ali. "Do you think we'll see him?"

Ali stared back at her friend. She knew who 'him' was. She glanced back at Chloe who was clutching a stuffed dog. 'He' had been on Mai's mind since moving to Canada, and especially the past few weeks, Ali knew, even if her friend didn't bring it up.

"We might. But you never know what might have changed. Don't rush into anything, but don't write it off yet." Ali smiled back at her best friend.

Mai grinned, too, "If you could follow your own advice maybe you wouldn't still be wearing ripped jeans." She joked.

Ali laughed, but felt a pang of guilt rush through her chest.

. . .

Ali stared out the huge window in her hotel room. It looked out on a small street in Domino that she was sure she must have walked a hundred times before, but didn't remember. She tapped her pen on the desk she was sitting at, and glanced back down at the blank sheet of paper before her.

She sighed loudly and stood up; clearly she wasn't going to make any progress, so it was better to move around. She tossed her cigarettes into her bag and tucked a notebook under her arm and a pen behind her ear. She pulled her boots on, not bothering with the laces, and shut the door behind her.

Ali had been insistent on paying for her own room, since she was staying separately—Mai didn't let Ali's cigarette smoke within ten feet of Chloe. Besides, with all the hit songs she had managed to pump out over the past few years, she was able to afford the occasional luxury. It came in handy when she couldn't sleep and didn't want Mai asking questions.

Chloe and her mother would be sleeping off the jetlag, it was six p.m. and both wouldn't be waking up until the next morning. Ali smirked, Mai would probably be waking up at regular intervals to check her email and voicemail, but Chloe would be able to sleep for the full fourteen hours, no problem. She grinned again, knowing that it was genetic.

"Would you like a map, ma'am?" one of the receptionists offered when she saw Ali leaving. The woman was speaking in English, obviously under the impression that Ali was a tourist.

"No, thanks, I'm familiar." Ali smiled back in quick Japanese. The woman apologized and smiled, again.

The Russian stepped out onto the sidewalk and felt the still-warm air of early fall—or, late summer?—rub against her skin. She hadn't bothered with a coat, but it didn't matter, she wouldn't be out long enough to get chilled.

The streets were busy with people as usual. If anything, she had missed the hustle and bustle of Japan. The Canadian city she had been living in for the past four years was nice, but not the same as Domino by any stretch.

When Mai decided on having her baby, she and Ali moved to Canada together, both hoping for a break from everything else that was going on in their lives. But true to her usual behaviour Ali hadn't been able to stay put, so she'd begun making regular flights to America and meeting with musicians. It didn't take her too long to get a song on the charts, and a nice cheque to go along with it.

Mai had begun taking Chloe around with her, too, Paris, Australia, anywhere that her clothes were selling well. It was the quiet nights at home when the three of them would gather at either woman's house and spend their time watching movies—and drinking once Chloe was asleep.

Ali stared at her surroundings, taking them in with a small smile on her lips. Maybe if things had turned out differently, she'd be able to live in Japan like she'd been planning to as a teen. But as things were, she would only be able to visit occasionally and for short amounts of time.

Her fingers grazed against anything they could reach, and she was oblivious to everyone staring oddly at her. She let her hands search for anything that might give her inspiration, there were bands waiting for her to write something for them a small waiting list, even, had formed since her first major song.

"When you're selling your emotions you can't afford to lock them up." Mai said, behind her. Ali turned to look up at her much taller friend.

"And they say I'm the poetic one." Ali said sarcastically.

"I'm serious, Ali…" Mai tried.

"Where is Chloe? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"She's being watched by one of the room maids. She's out like a light—typical. I went to ask if you felt like taking a walk, but it looks like you beat me to it."

Ali nodded and looked down at the ground she was stepping over. "Feels like re-visiting a demolished house."

"Do you think you'll—"

"No." Ali cut her off, "This isn't that kind of trip."

Mai nodded, not pressing the issue any further. It was an unspoken rule that neither girl would bring up the other's past by force. Not while the issue was so tender, anyway.

"So, what are you working on?" the taller woman asked, motioning at Ali's notebook.

"Nothing, really." The Russian shrugged, "Just some floating around ideas, not much is actually organized yet." She kept her eyes fixed on the sidewalk, her feet, Mai's feet, lamp posts, anything she knew would be safe. After all, they were back in Domino, in Canada she could avoid seeing posters, she never read the magazines, and she hadn't watch cable TV in years.

"Who are you working for?"

"I'm on contract with some huge pop star from Barbados." Ali laughed, "Apparently she's been really huge in North America the past year."

"I think I know who you're talking about. I did a shoot with her." Mai smiled, too. It was always pleasant to know that they were dealing with the same people, especially when Ali's people had always been so far from what Mai surrounded herself with.

"Look at us, all grown up and organizing the lives of other people." Ali sat down on a bench and stared at all the people walking the streets.

Mai sat, too, her cell phone clutched in her hands rather than in her purse. If Chloe called, she wouldn't make the child wait two rings.

"I can't believe it's been five years." Ali smirked, "I feel like a hag."

"Don't worry, you still look sixteen." Mai teased. She often joked that the blonde was doomed to look like a child her whole life.

Ali rolled her eyes and lit a cigarette, letting the smoke billow out from between her lips. "Yeah, I figure I'll write a few really catchy horribly annoying songs, and then retire. Then I can live off of the royalties, you know… like MC Hammer."

"You're goal is to be like MC Hammer?" Mai glanced, worriedly, at her friend.

"More or less," Ali shrugged; "but would you ever let me dress like him?" she laughed. Mai laughed, too.

Mai's phone rang shrilly and she flipped it open and held it to her ear immediately. She spoke for a minute before turning to Ali and covering the mic.

"Chloe's up. I'm going to go try and get her back to sleep, and see if I can pass out, too. Make sure you get some sleep later." She smiled. Ali nodded and watched her friend walk away through the crowd.

The Russian kicked some dirt around with her boots before turning her eyes up to the darkening sky. She held her cigarette lightly between her lips, puffing occasionally as she searched through the pearlescent pink clouds of twilight for inspiration.

Mai was right; she was in the business of selling her emotions. They might appear on the radio or the television as the feelings of whatever musician she sold them to, but when Ali heard one of her songs on the radio she understood it in a way that not even the artist could. For example, what had been an extremely popular ballad thought to be about a relationship, Ali had written about Chloe. The singer had told her fans it was about a boy she loved, but when Ali had written it, it had been for the tiny baby that Mai had made her God Mother of.

She tossed the cigarette, half-smoked onto the ground and opened the notebook on her lap. She tapped her pen against the paper and stared around. Her eyes wandered from the people, to the buildings, then back to the sky line. She craned her neck to stare at the tall buildings surrounding her.

In the distance, above most of the buildings a large silver, Kaiba Corp. logo glinted in the dusk's light. She swallowed, hard, and whipped her neck in the opposite direction so quickly she felt it crack.

Five years ago she had sworn to herself that she would never set foot in the same town as Seto Kaiba, again. Of course, she had been eighteen; she had been lost in her own anger and sadness, too lost to see anyone else's. The Russian sighed, it didn't matter that she now realized how ridiculous she had been. Five years was five years, and when it passed without a call or an apology, she knew she'd blown it.

She still felt hurt and betrayed by the CEO's lies, but if she'd stayed five minutes longer in the New York apartment five years ago, she might have been able to settle it with screams and fighting. Instead, she'd given up and run, just like every other time that something scared her off.

Ali stared down at the paper and let the pen scribble in messy penmanship.

'Move on, move far away,
Didn't think I'd be here today,
Holding my tongue, 'cause there's nothing to say…'

She sighed and scratched out the writing, whatever inspiration she had hoped to gain from the trip was already proving to be useless. And she knew that the rest of the week would be spent locked in her hotel room, faking sick so that Mai wouldn't drag her out and expose her to the past she couldn't resolve.

. . .

"Ali! Your song's on the TV." Chloe shouted, banging on Ali's door. "Ali! Come watch!" she whined.

Ali opened the door and peered down at the little girl; she had been sleeping for three hours and had no desire to wake up. "What?" she yawned.

"Your song is on the TV!" Chloe said excitedly. "Look!" the kid darted past Ali into the room and she turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until music played through the room.

Ali stared at the TV; it was a live show from New York where a band she had written for months ago was playing. She yawned.

"It's not that big a deal, Chloe."

"Yes it is," Chloe objected, "and it's over now…" she whined.

The show cut to some kind of news segment specifically for gossip about the lives of celebrities. Ali rolled her eyes and started to turn away, she hated that so many people's lives revolved around actors, musicians and other famous personalities. But just as she was stepping back to her bed, something caught her ear.

"… and Mokuba Kaiba will be graduating today."

Ali's face swung around so quickly that she felt dizzy for a moment. On the screen was a picture of the school she had met the Kaiba's at years ago. She was disappointed that there wasn't a picture of Mokuba on the screen, but relieved at the same time. She bit her lips and the reporter went on to talk about the ceremony that was taking place that afternoon.

Ali cleared her throat and gave Chloe a generic 'you shouldn't be watching this crap' but even the child heard something off in her voice.

"You're upset?" she asked, worried. She shut off the TV and stepped to her God Mother. "Why?"

"I'm not upset, just sleepy." Ali forced a smile, but she'd never been a good liar when asked directly about something. She lay back down in the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"No, you're upset. You always bite your lip when you're upset."

Ali released the hold that her teeth had on her lip and smiled widely at Chloe, "There I'm not upset anymore, see?"

Chloe's eyes narrowed but she didn't have time to say anything because Mai rushed into the room.

"Good you two are already together." She said quickly, standing in front of the closest mirror and straightening out her pencil-skirted suit. It would have been a conservative outfit, except the skirt was a little shorter than something one would wear to an office, and everything was hot pink. Ali stifled a laugh, Mai would never change for anyone, not for a man, not for her own daughter. The woman turned around, satisfied.

"I have a shoot today, it's last minute." She said quickly, glancing at her watch, "I need you to watch Chloe until dinner."

Ali opened her mouth to object but Chloe cut her off.

"'Kay, I'll be good. Have fun. I love you." She rushed to hug her mother, who embraced her tightly. Ali smirked at how Chloe sometimes seemed like the mother in their relationship.

Chloe waved down to her mother out the window of the hotel before turning back to Ali.

"What are we doing today? Are you going to take me to the candy store?" she asked.

Ali was ruffling through her suitcase, grabbing clothes. "Is that where you want to go?"

Chloe shrugged, "You said they had good candy…"

Ali grinned and stood up with an armful of clothes, "Wait until you try it."

Chloe smiled widely, showing off her small, square baby teeth. She skipped out of the room and across the hall to get dressed, leaving Ali to do the same.

The Russian watched her door click shut, the dropped the false smile from her face. She pulled the oversized t-shirt off and slipped a black sweater on in its place. All the while her mind was still focusing on the fact that Mokuba was graduating.

He would be sixteen, seventeen in a month. Her jaw clenched when she imagined the young boy, grown up. She hadn't even written a letter to let him know that she wouldn't be returning to Japan.

She pulled a pair of worn jeans on and tossed her dirty clothes onto the floor—her cleaning skills hadn't improved in the slightest over the years—and snatched a cigarette from her night stand. She lit it quickly, trying to calm the knotted feeling in her chest. She'd known that the trip would bring some stress along with it, but she hadn't wanted it to be like this.

"This is exactly why I don't fucking watch TV." She growled to herself, pacing aggressively across the carpet. She snatched a brush up and dragged it angrily through her long hair, wincing in pain when it pulled. She caught her face in the mirror and frowned deeply, the hair she'd let grow out hung too low, it seemed. She left it loose and decided to ignore it. The bags under her eyes were more pronounced than they had been the day before, so she snatched a concealing stick from her bag and drew out the lines that would make her look less exhausted than she was.

"Are you putting on make-up?" Chloe's small voice rang from the doorway, "You don't ever wear make-up."

"I'm not." Ali shrugged, stepping back from the mirror and dropping her half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray. She looked at Chloe; the child was wearing a baby blue pinafore dress with white petticoats. Her long hair was hanging in ringlets from under a white wool beret. No one would ever doubt that she was the daughter of a high-fashion designer.

Ali smiled, "Look at you, you pretty little brat." She joked, Chloe smiled widely. "Come on." She snatched her bag and grabbed the child's hand, pulling her from the room and down the hall.

"Why don't you drive?" Chloe asked once they were on the sidewalk, "I don't like walking."

Ali laughed, "Well that's too bad." She shrugged. It wasn't that she was still afraid of driving; she'd gotten over most of her childish fears, now it was just pure habit that stopped her from getting behind the wheel of a car. "You'll need to walk off all the candy you're getting today."

Chloe smiled and cheered, skipping a few steps ahead of Ali. The Russian grinned and watched the child, as she stared around at the city that was so new to her. She watched the people passing, cocking her head as she listened to their unusual language and receiving smiles from almost everyone who laid eyes on her.

Ali trailed closely behind her, letting her explore, but never more than an arms length away. If Chloe was able to put aside the fact that she didn't want to be in Japan, maybe Ali would be able to do the same, too.

. . .

Chloe's mouth was stretched into an indestructible smile as she hauled yet another bag of candy into the back of the taxi. Ali had given up on walking after the eleventh candy store, suddenly deciding that Chloe needed to visit every sugar-filled shop in Domino.

"Mom won't let me eat all this." The child laughed, resting her head on Ali's shoulder. Ali laughed, too, knowing that while the girl's mother would sooner see her daughter eat an entire box of sand than all the candy, she would have no reservation on handing it all over to Ali when Chloe wasn't looking.

"You're four; I doubt you even weigh as much as all this candy." Ali said, motioning to the bags that covered the back of the cab. She smiled, knowing that she was able to give the girl such treats. She often swore that if she had known song-writing could pay so well, she would have started in high school. It wasn't a lawyer's salary, but for a twenty-three-year-old who had been struggling to stand on her own feet her whole life, it was a God save.

Chloe shrugged and handed the Russian a grape lolly-pop which she immediately shoved into her mouth. Chloe instructed the cab driver to take them to the next closest candy store, which was as good as gibberish to the man. Ali translated then sat back and stared out the window.

The passing buildings would seem like just a normal city landscape to most people. But Ali was watching intently, remembering how she had fallen on a certain sidewalk, run across the road to beat traffic at a certain corner. She caught a glimpse of the Game Shop she once frequented, and was torn between smiling in the memories, and looking away. The cab turned up a street that she felt that she remembered but couldn't place it.

She stared intently out the window until she finally realized where exactly they were. She didn't even realize that she had let out a long string of curse words in every language she knew, until the driver stopped the car in a hurry and whirled around in his seat to see what was the matter.

"What the fuck, dude?!" she screeched at the poor man, "I can't be here; I said to bring us to the closest candy store!"

"The closest store is around this corner!" the driver sputtered, having no idea what the blonde was hollering about. Chloe stared in shock as her God Mother screeched in Japanese at the cab driver.

"Who are you working for?" Ali asked in a dangerously low voice, "Who told you to take me here? Was it Mai? I will kill her if it was… was it the FBI? They probably want me to be miserable…" she was speaking more to herself now. The poor cabby thought the worst immediately. As a driver in a heavily populated area, he had dealt with mentally unstable people before, and wasn't ready to have his life threatened again.

"You're crazy, lady." The driver said slowly, pulling back to put more distance between himself and the Russian. "You need to get out."

Ali gaped, "What? No!"

"Get out!" the cabby said again, with more force, "I have a gun." He warned.

The Russian kicked his seat childishly and demanded that he keep driving or she would report him to his higher-up.

Ali's elbow hit the curb before she realized what was going on. Chloe was lifted, gently, out of the car by the driver and set next to Ali. The bags of candy flew out also and in a matter of seconds the engine was starting up again.

"Wait, you don't understand!" Ali jumped up and tried to yell over the engine to the driver, "You can't leave me here!"

Her words fell on deaf ears as the cab disappeared around the corner. She sunk down to the sidewalk and buried her head in her hands. It wasn't unusual for her mouth to get her into trouble, but this was a new low. But telling someone that she didn't want to get in trouble she'd managed to get into trouble.

"So much for honesty." She whined.

"Ali…" Chloe tried, slowly, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder.

The Russian couldn't help but smile at the way Chloe pronounced the 'l' in her name with a slight 'w' in it. She could get past the predicament she was in, and the fact they she was sitting on the sidewalk outside of the building that Mokuba Kaiba's graduation ceremony was currently taking place in. She could get past it all with Chloe's little voice.

"Sorry, kid. The cabby was a doorknob. Come on, we'll walk back to the main street and hail another one." She smiled, standing up and gathering the candy. The driver had only unloaded a few of their many bags, but Ali didn't have time to complain. She needed to get away from McWilliams' high school fast.

"No, Ali…" Chloe stopped her, "I have to pee." She squeezed her legs together as if to prove her point. Ali's jaw dropped and she willed it not to be. It was too horribly cliché, the kind of thing that was so perfectly coincidental that it just couldn't be. The kind of thing that Ali's life seemed to revolve around.

"Okay… well let's hurry then." She pulled the kid by the wrist. She halted when Chloe let out a loud wail.

"No! I need to go now! That looks like a school! Let's go there!" she whined, her eyes welling with tears. Ali's heart skipped a beat. Either karma was a bigger bitch than most people let on, or this child was the most inconvenient accessory that existed.

Ali stared from the school to the wriggling child and with a light growl, pulled the hood of her sweater over her head to cover as much of her face as she could. She lifted Chloe and darted around the side of the school to the side exit, knowing that they wouldn't be asked any questions if they went in through that door.

Ali weaved through the halls, knowing her way to the nearest bathroom. She slowed when she reached the gymnasium, she could hear loud music and cheering—of course, McWilliams' was famous for it's prestigious music program—but when she was sure no one would be on the look-out for her, she darted past with Chloe.

The halls were decorated with giant music notes and golden stars, Ali tried to ignore the fact that she must have been right about Mokuba, if he was graduating form the country's number one music program at only sixteen, she had been completely right in assuming he was a prodigy.

She huffed and rounded the last corner, taking Chloe to the washroom. The child immediately objected when she saw the figure marking the door.

"This is a boys' bathroom." She said flatly. "I am not a boy."

"Look, kid, the nearest girls' washroom is four halls away. Do you want to wait that long?"

Chloe stared at her God Mother who held a valid point.

"Don't blame me; the authorities think keeping the bathrooms far apart will prevent teen sex." Ali defended. Chloe nodded and plugged her nose. Immediately, Ali pushed through the door.

Chloe was through the door and into the nearest open stall in seconds. Ali sighed in relief, she'd gotten in undetected, now if she could get Chloe to crawl out the bathroom window with her, they wouldn't need to worry about getting out.

She heard the sound of someone vomiting in the only other closed stall, and wrinkled her nose. Either it was a kid with stage fright, or a kid who had stayed up partying the night before his big day. Either way, she felt immensely bad for the graduate, having been in both situations.

Chloe was humming softly—probably trying to drown out the sound of whoever was spilling their guts—and Ali recognized it as the song she had written for the child. The 'love' song that had gotten her a career and she smiled. Even in the most irritating of situations, Chloe could warm her heart (even if she was the reason they were in the situation). Although had sworn off children the day she saw Mai go into labour, she wouldn't mind a kid like Chloe.

Chloe's toilet flushed and she skipped out with a grossed out look on her face. "Boys are dirty, I don't think they ever wash."

Ali rolled her eyes, "You have a serious hygiene fixation." She said quietly. The vomiting had stopped and she didn't want to draw attention to herself. Chloe took the hint and washed her hands in silence.

Just as Ali was drying the child's hands with paper towels, she heard the sick person's stall click open, and she snuck a glimpse, hoping she could guess which one of her 'reason's teens puke at graduation' theories were correct. But her eyes met an entirely different sight than the geek or party-boy she had expected.

Ali was on her knees, holding Chloe's hands in hers, covered in paper towel, but her actions froze when she realized what she was looking at.

Beneath protruding cheek bones and flushed—from vomiting—cheeks, heaving like air was denying him, was Seto Kaiba. Ali tried to look away, but all the years of never once seeing his face, never on a magazine, never on the TV, rushed back. All the small shocks that she would have endured by just flipping through the pages of a teen-magazine, or just turning on the TV for five minutes, all of it hit her like a brick wall. Especially the fact that he was thinner and paler than ever.

She whirled her face around, still unseen by the CEO and continued on with Chloe's hands. She heard the clicking of his dress shoes and the 'woosh' of his trench coat, as he stepped past her and to the sink. She had never been more thankful for hoods in her life.

It was only when she heard the familiar rattling of pills in a bottle that she stole another glance at the man, this time through the mirror. He shoved a few pills into his hand and then washed them down with a handful of water. His eyes were staring blankly into space as he did it, not noticing Ali.

The vibrant blue contrasted even more with his white skin than it had before. His hair, once so full of undertones and overtones, seemed flat in colour now. She couldn't help but imagine a small creature taking bites out of him; it certainly looked like he was being eaten alive by something.

"My hands are dry now." Chloe said, irritated that Ali was still rubbing them with the coarse towel.

It was such an innocent remark, but in that moment Seto had looked down, faster than Ali could look away from him and hide behind the shelter of her hood. She felt his eyes graze against her face as she struggled to hide it. She muttered something to Chloe and scooped the child up into her arms, quickly making for the exit.

Just as she was stepping through the door, she couldn't help but let her eyes wander behind her.

Seto was staring blankly in her direction, neither recognition nor acknowledgement in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, the emptiness of the way he stared made the breath hitch in her throat, she didn't know if she should worry about being discovered, or being forgotten.

She couldn't leave the washroom fast enough, running with Chloe in her arms all the way down the hall and to the nearest street where she could hail a cab. Nothing anyone said to her reached her brain, because it was plastered with the image of Seto Kaiba, pupils dilated, throwing up at his own brother's graduation ceremony.

Even if he hadn't recognized her, it was more shocking when she realized how she had hardly recognized him.