Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Chef Yami ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 2

 

“Kame Game Shop. Sugoroku Mutou speaking,” Jiichan's voice said through the speakerphone. Kaiba glanced at me, placing a finger to his lips. I hovered behind him anxiously while he sat at the desk in his study, and we both stared at the phone as he spoke.

 

“Hello, Mr. Mutou, this is Seto Kaiba.”

 

“Kaiba? What do you want?” Jiichan gasped incredulously. “Er…That is… I mean, how may I help you, young man?”

 

Kaiba groaned under his breath at Jiichan's reaction before replying. “I'd like to speak with Yugi, please. I have some questions about his god cards; I'm working on designs for my virtual game, and no one else I know has a copy of those three cards.”

 

“Kaiba, you're brilliant!” I breathed in his ear. He smirked proudly but silenced me with a look.

 

“Oh…” Jiichan breathed quietly. “I'm sorry, Kaiba. Yugi has… has gone out of town for a few days. I'll have him call you back. Goodbye.” We caught a choked sound before Jiichan hung up.

 

I turned to Kaiba sadly. “He still hasn't come back, then. But…but that doesn't necessarily mean you were wrong. So…thanks,” I told him, and hugged him quickly where he sat. Kaiba stared at me in surprise and I suddenly found myself blushing under his gaze.

 

“I think I'll go make us lunch,” I muttered and hurried from the room.

 

 

Kaiba stayed in his study, working, until I knocked quietly on the door. “Lunch is ready,” I told him, hovering in the doorway. Kaiba didn't bother to answer me, just rudely shoved past me and stomped down the stairs. Pictures on the wall clattered in their frames and the floor quaked under his steps.

 

“Why are you stomping? Are you mad about something?” I asked curiously, running to catch up with him.

 

“No. I just felt like making noise. It's too quiet without Mokuba running around,” he explained, and smirked a little.

 

I laughed. “Kaiba, you're weird,” I informed him and he scowled, but I ignored him as a thought occurred to me. “Does Mokuba visit often?” I asked hesitantly.

 

“Yes, he's been spending the weekends here. Why?” Kaiba replied.

 

“Today's Thursday… I guess I could hide out somewhere for a couple of days,” I mused to myself.

 

“What are you talking about, Yami?” Kaiba groaned, staring at me in disbelief.

 

“Mokuba's coming. No one's supposed to know where I am, remember? Yugi-tachi might have already told the police to be looking for me,” I sighed.

 

“Mokuba won't tell. Besides, they haven't called the police, or the old man wouldn't have told me Yugi was out of town,” Kaiba answered- very slowly, as if I were an idiot.

 

“Well…” I hesitated. “Maybe I should head out anyway. It probably isn't safe for me to stay in one place very long…if somebody found me…” I bit my lip worriedly, watching his expressionless face.

 

Kaiba sat at the table and took a huge bite of his sandwich before answering. “Don't be an idiot, Yami. No one's going to find you here; and besides, if you leave, who would cook for me?” Kaiba grinned mischievously and I gave him an indulgent smile in return, rolling my eyes.

 

“Seto, you're hopeless,” I sighed, and turn my attention to my lunch.

 

 

The next morning I decided to clean the house, since I was hopelessly bored and Mokuba was coming over that afternoon anyway. As I leaned over the washing machine, pulling out one of Kaiba's heavy trench coats, a pair of hands suddenly grabbed my waist and pinched, hard.

 

I screamed and jumped backward, tumbling all over Kaiba, who stood behind me laughing hysterically. “That was mean,” I grumbled.

 

“But it was funny,” he smirked, and pushed me aside, tugging his clothes from the washing machine and tossing them carelessly into the dryer. “Why were you doing my laundry?” he asked. “Do you want to be my maid, after all?”

 

“No,” I grumbled, scowling. “I was just bored. Besides, you have a lot more laundry than I do,” I added, plucking at my black outfit. He straightened and eyed me thoughtfully.

 

“Hm. I guess you do need more clothes. Especially pajamas,” he grinned at the memory of me in his long, cotton pants.

 

“Well, it doesn't matter, because I can't really go to town anyway,” I called over my shoulder. I picked up some glass cleaner and a cloth from where I had laid them on the coffee table and started washing the windows in the living room. After a moment, I reached up to clean the top of the glass, stretching on my tiptoes, but I heard a slight sound behind me and whirled around before Kaiba could pinch me again. He crossed his arms innocently and I rolled my eyes. “Well, are you just going to follow me around or do you want to help?” I snapped, and held out the cloth.

 

“I don't particularly want to help, thanks,” Kaiba retorted drolly, giving me a half-smile. “Mokuba will just mess everything up again this afternoon.”

 

I sighed. “Maybe. But there's nothing better to do.”

 

Kaiba broke into a full-fledged grin. “Yes, there is. Come with me.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me out the door, quickly locking it behind him. Kaiba kept holding my hand until we had made it down the driveway all the way to the sidewalk beside the road. “Sorry, I don't have any of my cars with me. This is just a little town, so I can walk everywhere. I figured it would be a nice change for me,” Kaiba explained.

 

“I don't care about that… But where are we going?” I asked worriedly. “I don't think anyone should see me.” I bit my lip and glanced around cautiously.

 

“Don't be stupid,” Kaiba snorted. “No one is looking for you, and even if they were, no one around here would notice. People in this godforsaken truck stop disguised as a town don't pay attention to anything except the weather.”

 

I reluctantly kept walking beside him, checking every minute or so to see if we were being followed. After a five-minute walk, we came to a tiny general store with a decrepit sign above it that read “Bay City Grocery.” I glanced in askance at Kaiba, who shrugged.

“I think Bay was someone's name. That or they're complete idiots, since this place is nowhere near the ocean.”

 

I grinned at this and let Kaiba lead me inside. He guided me by the small of my back to the front counter, where an old lady with gigantic glasses and purple age spots on her face sat behind the cash register. “Hello Mae,” he greeted her.

 

“Well, hi there, young man,” she croaked. “Would you like me to pick out some groceries for you again?” I raised my eyebrow questioningly at Kaiba, but he merely gave me a blank stare. “And who is this handsome young fellow?” Mae continued, peering owlishly at me through her glasses.

 

I blushed and Kaiba smirked. “This is my friend, Yami. He's going to give you a list of groceries, and I'd appreciate it if you would get everything he tells you and have it delivered to my house. We'll be home in about an hour,” he said, and the two of them looked at me expectantly.

 

“Kaiba, you could have given me a little more warning,” I grumbled.

 

Mae clucked admonishingly at me. “Now, Yami, dear, you shouldn't talk that way. Calling your friends by their last names, honestly!” she scolded.

 

Kaiba and I rolled our eyes at her, and I quickly rattled off a list of foods we might need. Kaiba added a few junk food items for Mokuba, and the two of us hurried out of the store to escape Mae, who called after us, “Bye now, you handsome dearies! Remember, be nice to each other!”

 

I made a face at Kaiba as soon as we were out on the street, and he launched once again into that wonderful laugh of genuine amusement. As I stared, listening to him, he grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him, still laughing heartily. He let go after a few steps and continued down the cracked sidewalk, but I stopped, feeling a bit starstruck. Why didn't I sound like that when I laughed? And he didn't always laugh that way- only when he really felt amused, or happy…

 

“Yami, what are you doing? Come on!” Kaiba called, already a long distance ahead. I blinked out of my stupor and ran after him.

 

“Where are we going now?” I asked.

 

“It's time to pick Mokuba up from school. I would get you some pajamas, but there's really nowhere to buy them out here. You'll just be stuck wearing my clothes a while longer,” Kaiba sighed.

 

“That's okay, Seto, don't worry about it,” I replied. Actually, I had gotten used to wearing his over-long pajamas, and didn't really object to them anymore… I liked the smell of cinnamon.

 

“You listened to Mae, hm?” Kaiba smirked.

 

“Huh? What?” I asked, confused.

 

“Calling me by my first name,” he clarified. “You remember- `calling your friends by their last names, honestly!'” Kaiba sneered; imitating the old woman's croaking voice.

 

“Oh. Haven't I called you Seto before?” I mused distantly, thinking of what Kaiba and Mae had said in the grocery store.

 

“Maybe. I don't remember.” Kaiba paused in front of a large brick building with swarms of children running out the door; and a bobbing black head saw us and waved frantically. “Hello, Mokuba!” Kaiba called to his brother.

 

“Seto, can I ask you something?” I questioned as we watched Mokuba approach. “Did you mean it when you told Mae I was your friend? I mean…am I your friend?” I asked curiously.

 

“I don't have friends,” Kaiba replied indifferently, and I looked at the ground, not daring to meet his eyes. He leaned over to hug Mokuba as the excited boy pounded his way toward us, and when his face was level with my ear, Kaiba added quietly, “or, at least I didn't before.”

 

 

Mokuba shoved another piece of chicken in his mouth and groaned happily. “Yami, will you live with us forever?” he pleaded. I blushed and turned back to frying hand-breaded chicken tenders. Since Mokuba was a kid, I had decided to divert from my generally healthy meals, and made fried chicken and potatoes. Both Kaiba brothers had devoured the junk, despite Seto's protests that he only ate junk food because Mokuba wanted it.

 

“What I don't understand,” Kaiba told Mokuba, “is how he cooks so fast. Did you see him whip up that breading? It took about three seconds.”

 

“Maybe he uses Shadow Magic,” Mokuba suggested.

 

“No, he doesn't have the Sennen Puzzle now,” Kaiba replied. I made an involuntary choked gasp at the reminder of Yugi, and Kaiba dropped his fork with a clatter. “Sorry,” he muttered, watching me with his intense blue gaze.

 

“Seto, what…” Mokuba started, but I quickly set more food in front of him and he broke off, distracted. I frowned at Kaiba over Mokuba's head; we'd agreed not to say anything about Yugi's disappearance, not wanting to worry Mokuba. He gave me an apologetic shrug and I nodded, turning off the stove. I busied myself cleaning up the counter and tried not to think of Yugi.

 

Suddenly I felt a hand slide gently across my waist as Seto moved past me and I jumped. The pan in my hands clattered to the floor, and Kaiba cocked an eyebrow at me inquisitively (Mokuba was still occupied with dinner). “You…you startled me. What are you doing?” I asked, in a slightly higher than normal pitch.

 

Kaiba smiled briefly and held up his empty glass. He dramatically pushed it into the opening in the side of the refrigerator and let it fill with water, and then maneuvered past me once more and sat at the table, rolling his eyes.

 

I blushed.

 

“Yami, aren't you going to eat?” Mokuba asked, eyeing the last of the potatoes.

 

“No, thank you, Mokuba. I don't care much for fried foods,” I replied, wrinkling my nose a bit as I washed the pan.

 

“You're not eating anything?” Mokuba pressed, and I sighed. My stomach was tied in nervous knots after the reminder of Yugi, and Kaiba's hand on my waist definitely hadn't done much to calm it. “Well?” Mokuba persisted.

 

“Maybe later,” I said. “My stomach feels a little upset right now.”

 

“You're sick?” Seto asked, eyeing me carefully.

 

“No, just stress, I think,” I replied, communicating my worry with my eyes. He nodded in understanding.

 

“Stress? About what?” Mokuba asked curiously. Seto gave him a stern glare.

 

“Mokuba, finish eating and wash the rest of the dishes. Yami and I will be in the living room when you're done,” he said.

 

“Aww, why do I have to do the dishes?” Mokuba whined.

 

“Because you ate most of the food,” Kaiba smirked in reply. He stood and motioned for me to exit, but as I passed him he put his arm around my shoulders, so that his hand curled gently around my collarbone, and walked beside me into the living room.

 

My eyes widened and a flush crept up my cheeks; I didn't dare look him in the face. Why did he keep touching me? Oh right, we were friends now…I think. But, whenever Yugi-tachi had touched me, I was never so aware of their every movement- I could feel every slight twitch Seto's fingers made against my shoulder, and his arm felt burning hot.

 

That was just strange.

 

Kaiba sat beside me on the couch and (finally) pulled his arm away. We silently watched the news for a few minutes, half-listening to Mokuba's grumbling from the next room, until Seto gave a soft sneeze. “Bless you,” I said automatically, glancing over at him. He rubbed his nose with a long, slender finger, and tiny wrinkles appeared on the sides of his nose. I watched them disappear, fading back into smooth skin; and then I blinked and looked away, realizing I was staring. It wasn't just his touch- I was aware of every movement Kaiba made.

 

Again, strange.

 

“Seto, I don't feel very well after all. I'm going to bed,” I told him, standing quickly. He glanced at me worriedly and stood as well.

 

“Are you alright? There's some medicine in the bathroom; I'll get it for you. It's your stomach, right?” He started to leave the room, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm. Seto looked down at my hand and I quickly yanked it away. He frowned. “Yami, what…”

 

“I'm fine,” I said hastily. “I just need to lie down. Would you please watch the news for me? Just…just in case…”

 

He nodded reluctantly. “If you're sure,” he told me; then shouted, “Mokuba! Yami's going to bed! Say goodnight!”

 

“Good night!” Mokuba yelled, over the sound of splashing, and I chuckled at the pair.

 

“Good night, Mokuba. Good night, Seto,” I told them. Kaiba gave me a friendly grin, which I shakily returned before heading to my room on quaking legs.

 

 

 

After lying in bed for several hours, wondering where Yugi was, wondering what was happening with Yugi-tachi, and especially wondering why I kept reacting so strangely to Kaiba, I gave up on trying to sleep and padded, barefoot, downstairs. I curled up on the couch in the living room, tugging a blanket from a nearby chair and rolling up in it. Yawning, I turned on the television and flipped through the channels, finally stopping when I saw a chef who actually looked like he knew what he was doing.

 

I watched, fascinated, as the man made different types of fancy desserts, and I was so engrossed in the show that Kaiba's voice didn't even startle me. “What are you watching?” he asked. I glanced up briefly to see Seto leaning over the back of the couch, with his long blue robe hanging open over his shoulders.

 

“Cooking show. Want to watch with me?” I asked, turning my attention back to the chef, who was pouring filling into chocolate moulds. Seto slipped onto the other end of the couch, lifting my feet momentarily before sliding under them and propping them in his lap. I yawned widely and he rested his arm over my ankles.

 

“You're tired,” Seto observed. “Why aren't you in bed?”

 

“I tried to sleep, but I just couldn't,” I frowned. “Too much on my mind, I suppose. Why aren't you in bed?”

 

“I couldn't sleep, either,” he replied briefly, scrutinizing my face. I shifted, resting my head on the arm of the sofa, and looked away from him. The television chef had switched from desserts to entrées and had begun a shrimp salad, which he inevitably ruined.

 

“No, no, NO!” I grumbled, shaking my head and gesticulating wildly. “That salad is completely wrong! What an idiot; he should actually arrange the shrimp so that…” I paused, mid-rant. Kaiba was laughing again, that beautiful laugh I'd heard only twice before, and a brilliant smile lit his face. I gave a quavering smile in return and relaxed against the cushions, listening to him. “Sorry, I got carried away,” I apologized when he stopped laughing.

 

“No, don't be. Watching you is more interesting than watching the show,” he drawled, smirking roguishly.

 

I blushed and fastened my eyes to the television screen, grumbling as the man continued to destroy a perfectly good shrimp salad. After a moment, Kaiba's arm shifted on my ankles. I glanced at him in askance, and he began rolling up my pants legs where they had fallen loose, covering my feet. “These are way too long. I'll have to let you cut up a pair or two, since we can't get you any clothes yet,” he commented.

 

I grinned. “So I can keep them?” I asked, and he nodded. I gave a little involuntary cheer, and Seto raised an eyebrow. “I like them,” I explained, a little embarrassed. He chuckled again momentarily, in a brief echo of that laugh, and poked my bare foot with his slender index finger.

 

“I'll get you some pants like these, then, when we go back to the city,” Seto said, and leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. He idly traced my ankle with his index finger.

 

I closed my eyes too, relaxing under his touch, and muttered under my breath, “It wouldn't be the same.” Then I blanched, realizing something, and whipped my eyes open. “Kaiba, when are you and Mokuba moving back to Domino?” I asked.

 

“In about three weeks, when his school term ends,” Kaiba replied, yawning. His eyes were still closed and he slowly rubbed my foot, massaging it with his thumb. I forced myself not to think about his touch and asked, “What will I do then?”

 

“Come with me, of course,” he replied, smiling to himself. Finally he cracked open one eye and glanced at me. “Who else would cook eggs for me?” he asked innocently.

 

I chuckled at that and closed my eyes again, and Seto went back to tracing my ankles with his warm fingers. “I'll have to remember to make eggs for breakfast tomorrow,” I murmured, before sinking into a deep sleep.

 

 

I awoke to something poking me hard in the side. I grumbled and shifted, and it jabbed me again, harder. “Yami, wake up!” a voice hissed. Blearily, I opened my eyes to see Mokuba's fuzzy black head looming over me.

 

“Mokuba? What's going on?” I mumbled. He chuckled softly and winked at me before replying, “That's what I'd like to know.”

 

“Huh?” I said intelligently, yawning and stretching my arms over my head. I was still on the couch.

 

“What did you do to him?” Mokuba asked, snickering, and pointed to the other end of the couch where my feet rested. Kaiba lay there, still in a mostly upright position, with his legs stretched across the carpet and his head lolling against the back of the couch. My blanket covered most of his lap and he loosely held my legs. One of his hands had snaked up my pant leg nearly to my knee, and he grinned slightly in his sleep.

 

My eyes widened and I stuttered incoherently. “I…I didn't…nothing,” I stuttered stupidly.

 

Mokuba snickered again. “Why is his hand up your pants?” he asked in feigned innocence.

 

“MOKUBA! It is NOT!” I gasped, jerking my legs from Seto's lap. Why did Mokuba have to make it sound so…dirty? “We just fell asleep watching television,” I explained.

 

“Sure,” Mokuba replied wisely, winking at me. I glared at him and escaped to the bathroom. His laughter followed me the entire way.