Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Arubaito ❯ Plans ( Chapter 13 )

Ch 13 (Plans)

 

Review Responses:

 

JoeysGal: Hey there, haven't heard from you in awhile. I started reading that fic you sent me; good so far! This year of uni has been quite stressful and so I haven't had much time for the internet. I'm coming to the end of the mid-term holiday's atm, so I've had a bit of time to finish this chapter. I really hope you're doing well. Send me an email sometime, sorry I haven't been able to finish your fic yet - but I AM reading it (slowly but surely), have you gotten any more done? How are your other ones going? How's your pet sheep Alfred? All the best xoxo

 

aknkkskd: cheers, matey! As always; glad you're enjoying it and that you're still reading. Keep up the wonderous work~

 

dragonlady222: I'm most gracious you won't forget this story anytime soon! Sorry I made you wait for an update once again!

 

Black Angel Reaper: Thanks for both stories, and for the belated xmas greetings. Belated Easter Wishes to you too!

 

Passing Reader: Yes, yes I'm sure we all have those days. I hope your car hasn't died on you again. I only recently got my license and now I want one of those fancy automobiles myself… but that's irrelevant really. Thanks for reviewing! Happy reading~

 

Anubis Himura: Thanks for the very flattering review, muchly appreciated! I just hope the next chapter lives up to it! Haha

 

Disclaimer: Characters, worlds, people, games, and everything else is owned by and copyrighted Kazuki Takahashi. This is a non-for-profit fan work with no particular personal gain in mind. I own the writing and nothing else.

 

***

 

It had been one of those dreams that made him thankful his mother didn't do his laundry. Or his housekeeper for that matter, who, granted, was closer to a Grandmother-type figure, but he assumed that if he had been some years younger the state of his bed sheets would have received quite a stern look from old Nakamura-san. If she had done his washing, which she wouldn't have because he had a laundry service that did that kind of thing for him. And even if he hadn't his mother also wouldn't have been the one do his washing because he didn't have a mother anymore owing to the fact that he was an orphan. He didn't even have a step-mother because Gozaburo had never married. Which explained why he needed to adopt, which explained why Seto owned a `family' business. He figured if the late Gozaburo had had a wife, all signs pointed to the possibility that she would have been a horrible person and he could have imagined that the inheritance he and Mokuba had assumed would never have taken place.

Just another reason why women were utterly pointless.

The significant correlation between an imaginary step-mother and unclean bed sheets aside, Seto was having dreams. He'd been having similar dreams since hitting puberty in his mid-teens but, to his knowledge, none of them had ever involved his personal assistants before.

Well no, that possibly wasn't true. There had been that one time, when he had relented and allowed a high school student to spend one week doing work experience with him. This was a number of years back too, probably while he was in his final year of schooling. She had been pretty and chirpy and keen to investigate everything about his workplace and honestly, he didn't like pretty and chirpy, but certain parts of his body had, at the time, decided to disagree with him.

So actually, technically she hadn't been his personal assistant, which would actually make the latest series of dreams see the first in the line of assistants employed long term he'd had these sorts of dreams about.

Now that that was all sorted out, the next phase of the process was to work out whether or not he was bothered by this.

He decided he was.

Not only was he having to change his sheets more often than normal, he was dreaming about a boy. He'd done that once or twice before, but never consecutively or about the same person. And lately, this is exactly what it had been. They were all about the same person, the same assistant, who happened to be a boy.

Seto was still in the process of trying to work out exactly what it was that attracted him to Jou. He himself was not gay in the sense that every man who walked into his office he began to asses on a sexiness level of 1 - 10. Well, you know, there was the occasional person who walked in who was practically chin-dropping gorgeous and who it was impossible not to have even the slightest naughty thought about.

But Jonouchi was not strikingly handsome, or bowled over innocent pedestrians with the power of his sexy golden hair swishing. Which wasn't to say, either, that he was unattractive, for all goods and purposes he was at least a seven.

Well, a very generous seven.

Anyway, that left Seto with the puzzling thought that if it was not because Jou was so incredibly attractive, why was he so incredibly attracted to Jou?

He'd heard of, as opposed to having first hand experience in the matter, tales of people enduring relationships because the couples were attracted to each other's personality. Seto had never considered that he would marry for anything other than money or power, and he still fully intended on doing so, but the blond assistant didn't have money or power, and his dreams still told him he wanted to have sex with him.

So did that mean the logical conclusion was that he was attracted to Jou as a person? That they simply got along so well he wanted to develop their relationship? Get to know him more? Spend more time with him? (Screw him until he couldn't walk straight?)

All of that was simply way too mushy for his likings. But unfortunately, it felt like an eye-opener. The longer he thought about why he liked Jonouchi, the more used to the idea he became. Which was not his original intention. His original intention was to forget about what had happened between them, and to continue working alongside of the younger man in a purely professional environment and furthermore to quickly move on to finding some hot, young, loaded business woman with whom to copulate and create many heirs to his vast fortune if the unforeseen were to happen to his younger brother.

Even the best laid plans…

And to further tip the scales was the newest incident, the Christmas party. It also occurred to him that his life had become, it seemed, simply a series of `incidents', but Seto felt that the latest in line of these could definitely be counted as a big one. There were certainly some things to ponder: such as the fact that Jou had been the one to initiate contact. (Which sounded entirely too clinical but Seto was not used to analyzing in any other form of language).

It occurred to him that, although he had put some considerable thought into his own feelings towards Jou, he had not really thought about the reverse. He did not even recognize the feeling that overcame him when he actually thought about the fact that his own feelings might not be reciprocated.

That was the problem with being a multi-billionaire. People didn't say no to you, if they considered their livelihood valuable. But now, staring him right in the face, was the possibility that someone would say no and he would actually care.

Damn.

Oh but then, what was the meaning behind the kiss? Was it possible that Jou might return this feeling?

… This feeling. He was thinking of it in the definite now. The present. The constant. It existed, and he had acknowledged that.

He was, quintessentially, doomed.

He could never go back now. He liked Jou and that's all there was to it. It had the potential to grow, but would be hard to deny out of existence. Feelings were like mentally solid formations. Trying to get rid of a feeling would be like trying to tell your carpet it didn't exist. No matter how long, or how loudly you yelled at it, it would still be there once you got home from work.

It was strange though, it felt like as soon as he'd come to grips with the fact, and was no longer attempting to deny what his dreams were already telling him was true, it felt as if an invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He hoped to buggery it had been transferred to some other poor bastards shoulder. No sense in wasting a decent weight of denial. There was sure to be some other foolish individual out there who needed one. Those people on reality singing shows for example.

Well, at least that got step 1 out of the way. Now for step 2…

Or, rather, for step 1a, which involved working out just what step 2 was supposed to be…

 

***

 

It had taken him a good thirty minutes to decide whether to be early or late. To the uncaring passerby, this may have seemed slightly ridiculous; but he knew it was an important, nay crucial, decision.

The reason was thus: he had to decide which arrival time would make it more likely that he would not bump into Kaiba. It was imperative that he avoid contact for as long as possible. Last time he'd taken a whole day off (albeit unintentionally) and was determined not to repeat the performance. Which had resulted in his setting of three separate alarm clocks all an hour earlier than he would normally get up.

One could never be too careful, he reasoned.

So it came to the decision as to whether to be early or late. If he was late he might arrive to find the CEO already at work in his office. If he was early he might have to interact with him as he walked past on his way into his office. That all seemed logical enough, it now came down to an issue of time. How late was appropriate? Kaiba had a bad habit of varying his entry time by at least one to two minutes. So just how late was he likely to be today? Would five minutes cover it? But if he was too late he might be reprimanded. There was security downstairs who always recorded your sign in time. They'd know he was running late (not on purpose but still…). Oh! Maybe if he signed in on time, then went and hid somewhere until he was late, then he could solve both problems at once! Genius!

All this was an issue at all because it was a Saturday. On a normal weekday afternoon when he began work Kaiba was likely to already be at a business meeting or not be there at all in the afternoon because he was out surveying, or calling in to another company, or (he wildly suspected) at some tropical beach slacking off with a pina colada in one hand and a bikini-clad super model in the other. He had gone so far as to draw a small diagram on a throw away napkin to begin planning the most secretive way to get to his desk without being spotted by too many people.

Any normal human being would have pointed out that he was insane.

As he stepped off the train and walked towards the towering office building, one minute slowly the next minute changing his mind and walking so fast he nearly knocked an elderly woman in front of a bus, Jonouchi Katsuya's stomach churned with anxiety. He hadn't decided anything. He was still confused. And he was starting to feel the beginnings of what he suspected might be shame.

The double doors loomed ahead. He prayed to God that Kaiba was already in there, safely inside his office, and wouldn't go out for the next eight hours.

Oh Lord, thou art merciful, and in thy mercy let it be that this shall come to pass and that all may be avoided without confrontation. That you may find it in your infinite generosity to let me see not hide nor hair of that for whom my feelings are yet unbeknownst to even myself, that you… hey, is that Kaiba's limo?

“Fuck…”

Even running wouldn't be quick enough. Also it would have appeared too obvious. All that was left would be to walk briskly, pretend it was because of the cold, pretend not to notice the man getting out of the car, the man looking fetching with his collar turned up against the winter wind, accentuating his jaw line, the man walking towards him, with a slightly angry look on his face…

Better to get your apology out first.

“Kaiba… I…”

“Oh good you're here.” Making it sound like he hadn't heard him at all.

“What?”

“Saves me the trouble of having to come up and get you.”

“What?”

Kaiba was looking at him like he was speaking in English. “I told you two weeks ago…”

“About what?” Katsuya's mind was racing, he wasn't there at all, he had no idea what the other was talking about.

“I need you to come with me today.”

Katsuya looked faint, “What…?” He repeated again, a little lamely.

Kaiba frowned, “The shareholders meeting. I sent you two memos and an email.”

The cogs just weren't doing their job this morning, but Kaiba looked like he lacked the time to explain. “Just get in the car,” He said with annoyance.

He didn't remember the memo, but he was quickly coming to grips with the new situation; “Ah! Are you sure this isn't some elaborate plot to get me into your limo just so's you can take advantage of me?”

Kaiba stopped in his tracks, “E… excuse me?”

“It was a joke,” Katsuya said hastily, trying to emphasize how much he really had intended for it to be. No time like the present to attempt to get back into their old humour.

Kaiba said nothing but frowned again and pointed towards the car. Katsuya raised his hands in surrender.

I'm going, I'm going.

Afterwards the atmosphere got chilly again. He slid into the back seat and a few seconds later Kaiba got in too. Katsuya continued to move across to make room, and finally settled on the facing seat, all the way over in the opposite corner. As far away as possible.

Kaiba pressed a button on a panel near to his elbow, he spoke into it to let the driver know they were settled inside. No sooner had he shut off the intercom than the car pulled away from the curb.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. The air inside seemed cold despite the air conditioner set on heating. Katsuya recognized that it was not the physical temperature causing this. In an attempt to distract himself from the present, he tried to think back and remember why he was in this situation at all. Now that he was thinking clearly, he did recall being told about some meeting he was supposed to go to with Kaiba and take notes on. Or bring him coffee. Or something… he was sure the CEO would deign to remind him. So it was a shareholders meeting was it? Sounded boring.

Come to think of it, under his large traveling cloak Kaiba was wearing a particularly expensive suit today. He also looked like he'd had a hair cut (it was always perfect anyway, hardly notice any difference except to people who happened to see him half the days in a week), and what appeared to be a brand new notebook bag. Katsuya recognized that Kaiba was trying to make a good impression, and he suddenly felt a little guilty he hadn't remembered and made a similar effort. What he was wearing was not his best clothes, and his hair looked like it had just been used to mop the floor of a public bathroom - he had been so preoccupied this morning with other things he hadn't paid it much attention.

He was running out of information to distract his mind with, and his eyes kept glancing back over at the other man, whose fingers kept drumming themselves impatiently on the seat next to him. He needed to break the silence.

“Um…” But what to say next?

Quick! Something! He's looking at you!

Kaiba turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

How can you look so relaxed!? “Er… so where are we going?”

“It was in the email.”

Katsuya laughed without conviction, “I, um, can't remember the exact details of…”

“My house,”

He gulped, “Excuse me?”

“To pick up Mokuba,” He expanded disinterestedly.

“Mokuba…”

“The Vice President of Kaiba Corp?”

“I know who he is.” Katsuya snapped.

“You just looked so lost…”

“Don't patronize me.”

Kaiba smirked. Katsuya glared. This wasn't getting off on the right foot…

He had assumed that from Kaiba needing to use the intercom the driver couldn't hear them while the screen was up dividing one section from the other. He decided to take a dive then. Because the brunet didn't appear to be willing to break the ice on what had happened the last time they met at any moment soon.

“Don't you think we should talk about it?”

“It?”

“What happened. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about you git.”

“Back to calling me names. I see we've taken the time to really grow as a person…”

“You bastard!” He was getting angry now, Kaiba was being completely unhelpful, and he was stressed enough about this as it was. He was on edge, and did not appreciate the unwilling participant in the conversation. Was Kaiba really that unconcerned? He'd seemed so… well… so much nicer last time they saw each other.

“Temper.”

“Shut up! Stop acting so high and mighty! We need to work this out!”

Kaiba gave him a long look, “Work what out? It all seems very clear to me. You kissed me, I responded…”

“You started this!” He half-yelled, cutting into what the other was saying and only at the last minute remembering where they were and that another person might hear.

“Don't be so childish,” Kaiba paused, the phrase `it takes two to tango' just seemed a bit too clichéd; “A relationship is a two-person thing.” He finished instead.

“We're not in a relationship!” Katsuya gasped, exasperated.

Another short pause, “No… we're not.”

Katsuya was breathing a bit too quickly. His blood was rushing from anger and frustration and he just wanted to hit something. But this stopped him talking, for at least long enough for the car to grind to a halt as well. Thoughts flew through his head at lightning speed.

It was true… they weren't in a relationship… so why was he so upset? Why did Kaiba make it sound like he had no feelings for him at all? Like he was only going along with it?

The car door opened, in piled Mokuba followed by a casual looking briefcase and a nod goodbye from a security guard and a few seconds later they were rolling again.

Mokuba glanced from Jou staring at his feet to his brother staring out the window, both so transfixed away from each other it appeared as if even the world's most powerful magnet wouldn't be able to tear their eyes from their positions. “It's kinda chilly in here.” He commented slowly, experimentally.

“Controls are in the middle.” Kaiba said without apparent interest.

Mokuba didn't make a move to touch them. “Did you have a good Christmas, Jonouchi?”

Katsuya nodded, “It was fine.”

Mokuba pouted and folded his arms. Well, this was going to be a fun day. He'd been getting the vibe that these two were becoming more attached lately, but apparently he'd been dead wrong. The air was so icy right now you could have snap frozen chili in it.

“Well, if neither of you minds…” He mumbled, rather to himself, and pulled out an mp3 player. Anything was better than a silence like that.

 

Upon reflection Seto realized that, for probably not the first time, he hadn't handled the situation as best he possibly could have. Because while he was slowly becoming happier to admit to himself that he had feelings for Jou, he wasn't quite at the stage where he was willing to let anyone else in on the information as well. Especially the most concerned party.

Why it appeared most logical to him that Jonouchi should be the last person to find out he wasn't sure, but he knew losing a lot of pride would be involved in such a confession, and so he had decided to put it off for as long as possible. But from the way the other man was now glaring at him, it struck him that the course of action he had chosen to take may not have indeed been the best one either. He replayed his words in his mind and realized they may have come across too uncaringly.

He had a hard time handling Jou when he was angry. This was not because he was scared of him or anything similar, but because that type of conversation was so ingrown into him that his responses were automatic and of the negative sort. In situations like those it was not easy to forget how long he had hated the blond for, and so slipping back into calling him an inadequate mutt just seemed so easy. His tongue ran away with him and he found himself speaking before thinking. It was hard to take things back at times like that, he knew.

He wondered what he should do to fix things. Because they did appear in need of repair. Mokuba had spent the best half of the morning attempting conversation between the three of them but so far hadn't made much progress. Katsuya gradually began to stop looking so angry, and instead looked upset and confused. Seto couldn't work out which expression he disliked more.

It took a good two hours to reach their destination, which was a little way outside Domino City. It was a nice area they were driving through at least, away from the coast and further into the countryside. Hills and farming land whizzed by the windows for a little while before it was replaced again by shops and houses. Eventually they reached their landmark; a robust building used for corporate functions and owned by a large rice company who also controlled all the surrounding farm area.

They had shares in the stock of Kaiba Corp., and Seto secretly suspected this was how they had come to be so profitable themselves. The company had offered to host their shareholders meeting in the upstairs board room free of charge, and he was more than happy to oblige them. At least this way he wouldn't have to harass his catering team this week.

He was mildly impressed with what was presented on arrival. The rice maker practically groveled at his feet when they got out of the car, and was all too eager to show them around. Snow covered all the rice fields and low clouds did not allow them to see very far off into the distance, so they did not bother to venture outside. He did admit that their function centre had a nice set up. It was a very big place, with huge glass windows and views right around the outside. In the summer time it must have been quite beautiful, you could probably see all the surrounding green hills and in spring time there would be lots of flowers in bloom as well, completing the picture.

The rice maker offered they go upstairs to the meeting room. They'd arrived early as planned so no one was there yet, but Seto inspected the food, which was decked out in a separate room, and tasted the wine, which they had obviously not gone to a great expense to provide.

The owner then excused himself for a phone call he had to take and left them to it. Seto's bodyguards lingered in one corner like anti-social party guests, but he was quite used to ignoring them and going about his business.

Next to him, Mokuba stole a piece of sushi from a plate.

Jonouchi had been there the whole time as well of course, walking along behind them while the rice maker blabbered about their increase in wholegrain turnover. Seto realized he must never have been to something like this. He himself was used to touring companies or properties scouting out potential investments or having people shuffling around him like this, hoping he could be bought. But Jou had led a different life entirely.

Right now the man's fascination seemed to have momentarily replaced his hurt and confusion. He was staring at a plate of karaage and looking as if he was having a hard time controlling his hand from reaching out and stuffing one into his mouth. Seto thought he should take pity on him.

“It won't eat itself you know.”

Jou raised an eyebrow at him, suspecting a trap.

“Mokuba's eating too…” He gestured to where his younger brother was already much further down the table, his plate loaded with small portions of everything.

Convinced, Jou picked up a piece and ate it. Seto resisted the urge to be happy about this. A few more moments passed in relative silence. The security guards had begun to talk quietly amongst themselves, and the youngest Kaiba was heard to be chewing with great delight, completely oblivious to all but his array of food. Seto realized that this might be the right moment to say something.

“Um… I'm sorry if I was a little curt earlier.”

Jou froze, about to place another piece in his mouth, “You're sorry?”

Seto frowned, “Yes.”

“About being rude?”

He coughed, “The word I used was `curt'”

“About being rude?”

He deflated, “Alright, yes.”

“Apology accepted.”

Wait, what? “Just like that?”

Jonouchi looked at him like a cat being asked to move out of the way, “Yes?”

“Oh… I just thought it might be… harder than that.”

Jou shrugged, “It's alright.”

Seto looked at the other man's face, he seemed honest enough. He even went and ate another piece of food. It might be time to initiate Plan B…

“Look… about this relationship we're not having…”

“Nii-sama, the rice man is back.” Seto almost jumped, he turned and saw the owner striding back towards them with a grin the size of New Zealand on his face.

Interruptions be damned.

“Kaiba-sama! Some of the investors have arrived, I've greeted them and sent them on up, they'll be here momentarily!” Then he clapped his hands together whilst looking positively delighted. Seto returned his gratitude with considerably less excitement.

Thereafter he found no opportunity to speak to his secretary again. He became consumed by handshakes and nods and bows and people clapping him on the back and asking him how his business was going. Straight afterwards the actual meeting began and ran for four hours with a short break in the middle. He barley had a chance to remind Jou to take notes before he was swept away by charts and diagrams and fat men standing up to make speeches. He himself spoke the longest of everyone and by the end of the day his throat was so parched he could barely say goodbye without coughing.

He was in the middle of bidding farewell to another pompous business man when he caught sight of his brother and his assistant again. Jou was finally smiling, engaged in conversation with Mokuba, and, thankfully, both of them avoiding the majority of self-important flamboyance that made up the rest of the populated room. He noticed for the first time how much his brother had really grown up - he was almost the same height as the blond puppy now. As if sensing his thoughts, Mokuba turned his way, spotted him, and waved.

He spared a nod back and then bowed shortly to the men in front of him, who were wishing him a safe trip home.

No sooner had they left than a fresh lot took their place. The cycle was endless, and dear God did he need something to drink.

“Thank you for coming,” but it wasn't his voice, it was Mokuba's. Apparently they'd decided to join him. He shut his open mouth, having just been about to say the exact same words.

Something cold touched his hand, and he looked down in surprise to find he was holding a bottle of water.

“Just thought you might need it,” Jou said quietly so no one else could hear.

Seto gaped, and realized he could have kissed him there and then.

The investors got his attention back. He said goodbye, then didn't waste a moment in taking a gulp of water so large it was like he hadn't had a drop in weeks. The rest of the crowd seemed to leave quicker after that, and he once again had the voice to part from them properly.

He said a somewhat bland thank you to the rice maker for letting him use their meeting room, and noted that he might want to get the taps looked at in the facilities. Then they all piled back into the limo and began the drive back home. It was a much cozier trip than the last. Mainly it was Mokuba and Jou chatting away but they managed to drag Seto into speech a few times as well. He even noted, with a curious interest, that this time Jou was sitting on the seat next to him, not across from him, albeit still as far to the other side as he could manage. He was smiling again, and waving his arms around to describe things, and the CEO realized that Jou smiling made him want to smile too. It suited him, that look. It was also quite attractive.

And he thought, with a certain sinking feeling, that he was going to have to confess soon. Plan B seemed to be heading in that direction, whether he liked the idea or not.

 

***

 

“It's getting kind of late, maybe I should walk you home?”

Anzu, being the particularly bright cookie that she was, noticed the hint straight away; “Yeah, it's pitch black right now. Thanks Jou!”

Honda, who was more of a non-luminous cookie, was confused; “I think she's old enough to handle herself ya know.”

“It's only a few blocks away.” Katsuya reasoned.

Honda blinked in the artificial light of the street lamp, “Well exactly. It's only a few blocks, she'll be fine.”

Katsuya stumbled, he didn't think it was going to be this hard; “Um… well…”

Anzu took the initiative and intervened, “Well, you can always walk me home too Honda.”

Katsuya shot her a panicked look. What was she thinking?

Honda considered this, “Meh, can't be bothered. See you two at uni.” Then he walked away, giving them a short wave from over his shoulder.

Anzu smiled, “Works every time.”

“I think you know people too well.” He muttered, as they turned in the other direction and walked back to her house.

Anzu still lived with her parents, but according to her informants they'd taken the week off to spend at a winter resort. She, apparently, wasn't enjoying having to take the rubbish out herself.

“Sit down.” It wasn't a request, Katsuya sat quickly. “Now, you wanted to talk about something?”

Maybe this was all just one huge bad idea… he was having severe second thoughts about it.

“Uh… well…”

She frowned at him whilst making a cup of coffee for them both. “Well, you didn't come back here to make out, so what's up?”

He paled at the thought, and decided later would be a better time to nurture his scared mental image projectors back to life. He was here now, he needed to focus.

“I wanted to talk to you about someone… uh, I mean, something.”

She nodded knowingly, “Go on.”

He felt a bit frustrated that he had to explain it at all when she was acting like she had already worked out what he was going to say.

He paused again, and this gave her time to shove a mug into his hands. Then she took a seat on another chair and sipped her own quietly, waiting for him to start.
”Look… I want you to keep what I'm telling you just between us okay?”

She nodded, “You know I can keep a secret.”

“And I don't want you to think any less of me…”

“I'm surprised you think you can sink any lower.” She grinned. It helped.

So he took a deep breath and told her everything, from start to finish. By the time he stopped talking his coffee was cold and hers was all gone. Once he'd begun it had been hard to stop. And she hadn't made any looks of outrage or disgust so he didn't really encounter any reason to stop. Finally, after almost the whole time of avoiding her eye sight, he looked back at her, and waited for her to say something.

“Well, nothing too extraordinary there that I hadn't already reckoned was the case.” She said matter-of-factly.

Katsuya felt himself torn between trying to decide what to do next; would it be better to whack her behind the ear, or give her a big hug? “If you knew all that already why did you make me say it!?”

She gave one of those knowing little smirks women tend to do quite a lot since most of the time they have a much better grasp of the situation than men do, but don't like to indulge men too much otherwise they would no longer have a use for the age-old informed little smile, and therefore instead of expanding on their point will simply do this instead. “That's not the point. Now, do you feel better having gotten it all off your chest?”

“Of course n…” Then he paused and thought about it. Actually, maybe he did just feel a tiny bit better. Over the last few months he'd given Anzu glimpses into what was really going on at the office - especially when he needed her help with getting his job back, he had thought she had worked some of it out then - but this time he had been completely honest and hadn't missed a single part. He'd even gone so far as to divulge a certain percentage of his feelings and Lord knows those had never been announced verbally before. So really, he'd had quite a lot cooped up inside him until now, and he began to notice that it felt a lot better to be able to free some of those thoughts so that the rest of his mind wasn't so hassled.

Suddenly he didn't feel so claustrophobic anymore.

“Alright, yes, I feel a bit better.”

She did the smile again.

“But I really came to ask you for advice. You're a woman, you know about this sort of thing.”

“Actually, being that I am a woman, I have very little personal experience with being a man in a homosexual relationship.”

Katsuya choked on his air, “Please… don't say it so blandly.”

She nodded apologetically.

“That's one thing though. I don't… I mean… I'm not gay!” He said it almost imploringly, looking at her and honestly trying to make her believe him.

She paused for a moment, “I know that.”

This wasn't quite the answer he'd expected either. He had expected her to pulled out the facts and explain to him that yes, sorry, he was. For there were quite a few facts to fall back on. “What?”

“Well,” she began in a reasoning voice, the kind of voice a maths teacher uses while trying to explain why, if Suzie has one banana and Benny has four grapes and Todd has eight pickles and Miranda has sixteen agapanthus', why, exactly, it should have any relevance at all to compound fractions. “You've never been interested in any other men before, have you?”

Katsuya thought about this, he couldn't recall another other time he'd thought seriously about being with a guy. Sometimes a man would walk down the street who was so obviously attractive that it even made someone like Honda notice, but it wasn't like he'd gone home and had other types of thoughts about that man either. Now… a chick with a huge rack and skirt short enough to expose the bottom of her bum he might be thinking about up to, oh say, an entire day later.

“No.” He said with total honesty.

“So really, Kaiba is the only guy you are interested in?”

“Yes.”

“So you're not gay.” She said conclusively.

“But, what if I'm gay now. I mean yeah, before I wasn't. But what about now?”

She gave him a look that contained one raised eyebrow, “How many other men have you fancied since you starting liking Kaiba?”

“None.”

“Then you're not gay.”

“But…”

“Jou. Not gay.”

“But…”

“Look, just because you happen to like one single person of the same sex as you, I don't think that really means you've packed all your bags and moved over to the other side of the fence, signed change of address forms and bought a small villa. Its more like… moving a bit closer to the fence without actually opening the gate and walking through.”

“Oh.”

She smiled and reached out and patted his arm, “I don't think that is what you need to be worrying most about right now.”

His sighed dispiritedly, “Yeah, what I really need to worry about is what the hell I'm going to do next.”

She nodded.

“I'm really confused,” He raked a hand through his hair to begin relieving some of the stress, “I mean, I think… I like him. But I don't know what he thinks; one minute it's like we're getting along perfectly and then the next he turns around and says there is nothing there and it was all my fault. I just don't know what to do.”

She sat and thought for a few expectant minutes, “Well, for the moment, forget about what he thinks and focus on what you think. You like him. You want to be with him?”

The words sounded so different when they were spoken out loud. In his head it was a casual phrase he could bring up when he needed a label for a possible outcome of his developing emotions, but when they hung in the physical air it was like a written vow of monogamy signed in blood.

“I don't know!” He sounded a bit panicky, “Maybe… yes? Maybe?”

“Well perhaps you should work that out. What would you even do if Kaiba rang you right now and told you he liked you?”

“Pretend I was an answering machine?”

“Incorrect.”

He sighed, “I don't know, it's hard enough trying to work out how I feel let alone having to tell him any of this.” Really, there was a lot to come to terms with.

She smiled warmly, “I understand. Well, I think you telling me today will probably help you sort some stuff out. And you can always talk to me again sometime. Now you just have to think. But remember to consider your own feelings first.”

He nodded dutifully.

“Good. Now, would you like me to refill that coffee? It looks colder than granite.”

 

***

 

It was actually quite funny, from the point of view of a fly on the wall who happened to be interested in inter-office romances which didn't seem to be making much headway owing to the fact that neither of the concerned parties wanted to close any distance.

It was like posting a letter you really didn't want to send. You could write it, seal it, stamp and address it, walk down the road to the post box to send it, and once you got there, instead of placing it inside, you just keep walking. You were distinctly aware of the moment passing you by, you even went so far as to create the moment yourself, however once you got there you couldn't do it, and so, halfway down the road, you turned around, and tried for a second time. This has the possibility of continuing on indefinitely, or at least until one needs to go to the bathroom, and while all the steps are in place, the final most important push is needed for the whole entire plan to work.

And this was exactly what was going on inside Kaiba Corps. HQ. The situation was clear enough (in each of their separate minds) something needed to be said, they just didn't want to be the first one to say it. In Seto's mind he knew he had to tell Jou he liked him, and in Katsuya's mind he knew he needed to tell Seto he thought he might possibly like him. And then perhaps demand to know what exactly he planned to do about it.

But, like sending an unhappy letter, when it came to clinching the deal each party passed by the opportunity feigning complete ignorance and attempting to pretend it was much less obvious than a bright red post box.

 

***

 

“I don't know what to make of this file, what do you think?” Seto handed the papers over, frowning in thought.

Katsuya considered it, “Maybe an origami crane?”

If Kaiba wore glasses he would have pushed them to end of his nose then looked up at Jou with an expression that conveyed without words the question: “was that meant to be funny?”

Even without them he managed to get the message across. “Out.” He demanded, grabbing the information back.

Another missed opportunity.

He had been trying to reason out what the worst outcome of confession could possibly be. The technique had always helped him in the past; you thought of all the possible outcomes of the action you intended to take, decided on the worst and then worked out a strategy of dealing with that possibility. The theory was that once you realized that the worst thing that could happen was not so bad after all, you had more confidence to go through with it.

He decided that the worst possible outcome here would be that Jou could laugh in his face, tell his friends, let it spread around the office, and it might leak to the media.

Well, that wasn't too bad, if that happened all he would need to do would be to kill Jou's friends, fire all of his employees and re-hire new ones, deny everything to the general public, and re-locate to Mexico. Flawless.

At any rate, that was a fairly extreme outcome, he thought. And to compare the repercussions of what would happen if he didn't say anything, well, it was just better to let him know. Seto wasn't in the mood for a feeling that would eat away at him inside for years if it wasn't let out into the open.

Besides, apparently you only lived once. Apparently you had to grab life by the balls and live it to the fullest. Apparently you should live each day with no regrets, because you never know which of them will be your last.

Two hours later Jou re-appeared. Seto hadn't been able to get much work done all day, this fact becoming particularly clear to him as he realized that he was still staring at the same report he had been when the blond was last in his office.

He had been in the middle of pouring himself a glass of water from a jug on top of a short bookshelf. He offered Jou a glass too but he shook his head. His PA walked across the room and unloaded a pile of photocopies onto his desk, then he examined the letters in his outbox. Seto took a sip of water and watched him closely. Jonouchi seemed to be able to feel his gaze and shifted uncomfortably, determinedly not looking his way.

He began to walk back to his desk but stopped beside the other man instead. He took another sip.

“By the way, I'm leaving for America tonight.” In exactly the sort of unimportant, disinterested way people would say, `there's a door in your wall'.

This seemed to floor Katsuya, who lost all pretense of pretending to ignore him when he replied with; “WHAT!?”

“And I wanted to speak to you before I left.”

“You're going where!?” He repeated, quickly losing his firm hold on the present.

“It's about this whole… situation… we've gotten into.” Seto placed his glass slowly onto the desk.

“To America?”

“And I wanted to let you know before I left, so you'd have some time to think about it.”

“But why?”

“I like you. A lot I think.”

“How long for!?”

“Well, a while now.”

“A while? How long is awhile!?”

“I don't know.”

“You mean you'll just go and don't even know when you'll be back! What kind of planning is that!?”

“Wait, pardon?”

It is perfectly not okay for two people to be having a conversation with each other about entirely different subjects for a number of reasons. The first and most important of these is air wastage. Due to logging in places like the Amazon rainforest, and our modern age of technology and acute need for A4 sheets of paper, the Earth itself is losing natural oxygen like a balloon with a puncture wound and creating carbon dioxide faster than a flatulent baby. People spending time engaging in conversations without actually interacting their sentences together wastes even more precious air elements because these discussions usually end up taking twice as long, with each party having to say everything twice; once when the other isn't listening, and once again when the other realizes they haven't heard a word of it and it needs to be repeated.

A less important reason is because it doesn't make much sense to do so in the first place.

“We were talking about America…”

“No, we were talking about me confessing my feelings.”

“I'm pretty sure we were talking about America.”

“I like you.”

“You're going to America.”

“I told you to think about it while I was gone.”

Of course, sometimes it is impossible to maintain a normal conversation, given that both parties are concerned solely with their own half of the interaction. This is often referred to as `being stupid'.

“Will you just please answer my questions!”

“Will you just listen to me?”

Katsuya frowned and it looked more like a pout, “Fine, what have you got to say?”

Seto went wide-eyed; “I've already said it twice!”

“Said what?”

“That I like you!”

Somewhere, probably in local bank, a penny dropped. Neither of them heard it.

“Oh… you… oh.”

“And I don't want you to say anything, I just want you to think about it while I'm gone. Um… please.”

Katsuya was staring at the carpet, without really realizing it was there, and thinking; he just said please.

Because he didn't say anything else, Seto coughed. “Now, I really must begin to pack up…”

“Wait.” Katsuya snapped back to life and grabbed the others' arm as if he were already walking out the door… to a plane… to very far away.

“Why are you going? How long are you going for?”

“We're looking to expand our market overseas. And maybe a month.”

“A month?”

“Well repeating me isn't going to make a difference.”

“But what about here? What about work?” What about me?

“Other people can take care of that stuff while I'm gone. This isn't the first time this has happened.”

“Well what about Mokuba? What about… that lady who brings you a salad every Thursday at lunch time? What about the guy who gives me a discount on coffee for you every Saturday? What about your housekeeper? What about your phone bills? You can't leave the country and just forget about all of them!”

Seto stared; “Yes, clearly I need to refocus my priorities.”

But Katsuya looked so forlorn, like a lost sheep. He had the greatest urge to just reach out and give him a tight hug. Maybe mention the fact that he was over-reacting by quite a large percentage.

“It's only a month.”

The blond head mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Then, because he felt so utterly defeated, he leaned forward and rested his head on Kaiba's chest. It was nice and warm. “Just make sure you actually come back.”

Seto was a bit shocked but was determined to adapt into the new environment as quickly as possible. He put his arms around the other man and said; “Don't worry, even if the plane breaks down, I'm quite prepared to swim.”

 

***

 

Occupation was a wonderful thing; when there was something you didn't want to think about, as long as you were occupied you could be distracted from the unwelcome thoughts indefinitely. It was a great way to humour yourself and post-pone the inevitable mental breakdown.

Katsuya was currently occupying himself with a classic search for the remote control. Normally his patience was shorter than a two inch fuse, but today, because he needed the distraction, he was not ready to give up. He'd been searching now for at least twenty minutes and usually this would have ended long ago, either in his giving up and eventually asking someone else to do it, or, better circumstances preceding, simply purchasing a new television. Today was different. Today he was determined not to think about, draw near, or even remotely consider anything to do with…

“Owch.” He withdrew his hand from the ominous depths of the sofa at lightning speed. Something was down there that wanted to bite.

He removed the cushions with all the delicacy of a heart surgeon, and slowly peeked at what had taken up residence within his sofa.

Well, at least it had worked for twenty minutes. A very good effort, he must say.

Sighing, Katsuya reached out and picked up the small blue and white keychain. The duel monster glared back at him ferociously, sending out a fairly obvious message; “poke me, and prepare to die.”

Katsuya stared at it. The time had come, he presumed, to finally take action. To work out what was next, beyond breakfast and a shower the next morning. To either decide to like a boy, or decide to remain unchanged. To let go of all the hate he'd once felt and embrace something quite intrinsically different.

He frowned, and placed the charm on the coffee table. He would be able to see it better from there.

 

***

 

Seto had two phones; one for personal use, and one for public use. He'd taken both on the plane, but was only using one now.

He closed his personal phone on the call and sat staring at it for awhile, well after the screen had darkened again and it had finished telling him the length of his conversation. The little red and black dragon stared back. It didn't look menacing, it looked grumpy.

Well, that's Jou for you.

He had wondered if actually calling Jou, “Jou”, would be a good step in a positive forward direction. He didn't want to freak him out more than he already had. No… perhaps just waiting on his answer was a good first step. If he said no then he'd have to keep calling him Jonouchi. Which was too bad; he had already almost completely replaced the noun in his thoughts, so why not in spoken dialect too?

But that was all up to the man in question. Seto didn't really know what he would do if it was a “no”. Probably mourn about it for awhile but eventually get over it. Might take a bit of time though - he knew he was already getting into this deeper than he should have been.

The dragon almost seemed to agree with him, the way it was looking all accusatory and everything…

“Well it's not my fault.” Seto muttered, feeling something had to be said in his defense. Who else was going to stick up for him at this late stage of the game?

He sighed, it was going to be a long month. He had already decided to wait until he got back for an answer, so there could be no rushing things. He would just have to be patient. And nervous, and worried…

Whoever said that patience was a virtue obviously had never had romantic interests in mind.

 

***

 

A/N: It is very possible that you have just read the second to last chapter of this story. Circumstances permitting, I will try to have the next one out for you asap. But yeah… `soon' for me can sometimes translate to `months'. (As loyal readers are quickly becoming aware of). So hopefully you won't have to put up with my laziness for much longer!

See you next time, and reviews are always much cherished and very encouraging~