Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Chef Yami ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter 3

 

I remembered my promise to Seto and made eggs for breakfast that morning- scrambled, with toast and jam for Mokuba, and eggs Benedict for Seto and myself. He gave me a brilliant, grateful smile when he saw them, and I blushed at Mokuba's knowing smirk.

 

I picked at my food, not really hungry, and watched the two brothers thoughtfully. They were so much alike- annoying sometimes, headstrong, and brilliant; but where Mokuba was still childish and awkward, Seto was graceful, every action under perfect control. Nothing he did was ever by accident (except maybe when he thought I was Mokuba that night).

 

“Not hungry again, Yami?” Mokuba asked hopefully. I shook my head and pushed my plate toward him, but Kaiba put his hand firmly over mine. He lifted my hand from the plate and pushed my food back in front of me.

 

“You have to eat something. You haven't eaten since lunchtime yesterday,” Seto said. He rubbed my palm ever so slightly with the pad of his thumb before dropping my hand.

 

“But Mokuba's still hungry, and I don't feel…”

 

“Mokuba can make himself a sandwich if he's that desperate, and you'll just feel worse if you don't eat,” Seto interrupted firmly. “Now please eat something.”

 

I stared at the eggs for a moment, but the thought of putting something in my stomach just felt wrong. It was already full; the knots had taken over. Worry over Bakura's spell, grief at the betrayal of Yugi-tachi, Mokuba embarrassing me, hiding everything from Mokuba, having to run away, Yugi disappearing, and whatever was happening with Kaiba… It made quite an impressive list, and there just wasn't room for anything else right now, especially not food.

 

It's strange how sometimes things hit you all of a sudden, without warning. I had cried only once before- that day on the bench with Kaiba, when he had talked with me and comforted me the best way he knew. But now… now I stared nauseously at a plate full of eggs and the tears just came. They flooded my face, and I started sobbing convulsively and uncontrollably, right there at the breakfast table.

 

“What the…” Seto gasped. “Yami, what in the world? What's wrong?” I just kept sobbing; gasping and sniffing through cracks in the hands I had thrown over my face. Seto reached out his arm, but I shied away from it like a frightened colt, and I saw Mokuba blanch through the corner of my tear-flooded eye.

 

“Yami… I was just kidding; I know nothing happened,” Mokuba whispered. A very slight weight lifted from my heart, and I briefly lowered my hands. “No…it's not your fault, that's not…that's not…” I stuttered, but once again hysterical sobs racked my body and I shuddered.

 

Seto narrowed his eyes at the two of us. “Mokuba, go to your room. I'll talk to you later,” he ordered. “NOW!” he shouted sternly when Mokuba hesitated, and Mokuba scurried away.

 

By this time, I had calmed my breathing, but tears still streamed down my cheeks. I sat rigidly in my chair, squeezing my eyes shut, but the salty liquid still escaped from under my eyelids. I heard Seto shift beside me and I flinched but kept my eyes clenched shut. Hesitant fingers swiped the wet tracks from my cheeks, and I ducked my head, letting my eyes slide open.

 

Seto knelt, blue eyes shining with worry, so that his face was level with mine. His hands were on my cheeks, and the pads of his thumbs swept away my continuous flow of tears. My breath hitched and I scooted back in the chair. Seto lowered his hands reluctantly, and disappointment and confusion joined worry in his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked in a low, rumbling whisper.

 

“No. No,” I replied emphatically. “Mokuba…he saw us this morning, and your hand was…you slid your hand up my…you were…” I stuttered. That sentence sounded worse with every attempt.

 

Kaiba started to laugh, and I looked at him hopefully, but this laugh was wry and bitter. “Oh. I see,” he said, standing. “I'll go talk to him. And I'm sorry for making you feel so uncomfortable.” He turned to go and something clicked in my head. Did he think we were…that he had…?

 

“NO!” I shouted, and Seto stared at me incredulously. “No, what?” he asked. I jumped up and grabbed his hand in both of mine. “No, you don't understand. Mokuba saw us sleeping on the couch together, and you still had your hands on my legs, and he was teasing me about it. But that wasn't why I was crying, that was because of Yugi,” I explained breathlessly, squeezing his hand tightly.

 

Emotions flitted through his deep blue eyes and he smiled sadly. “Oh. Yugi. Of course,” he murmured. I narrowed my eyes questioningly at his tone, vaguely realizing that my tears had stopped.

 

“Seto… I'm sorry for overreacting. I guess everything just caught up with me,” I sighed. “I feel like one of those stupid girls who cry over nothing just to get attention.” Reddening slightly, I looked away and tried to pull my hands away from their grip on Seto's, but he rested his other hand over them.

 

“It's not nothing. Come on,” he said. He dropped my hands and led me out of the room by the small of my back.

 

 

“Kame Game Shop. Sugoroku Mutou speaking.”

 

“Mr. Mutou, this is Seto Kaiba. It is extremely important for me to speak with Yugi, and he never called me back. Would you please put him on the phone NOW?” Kaiba snapped.

 

“Kaiba, you don't have to be so rude,” Jiichan sighed. “He's…he's still out of town.”

 

“You're lying,” Kaiba pressed. “Why won't you let me speak to him? I just want to ask him some questions.”

 

Jiichan took a shuddering breath, obvious even through the speakerphone. “He's not here, alright? Yugi ran away…” Jiichan started crying, and I opened my mouth to attempt to comfort him, but Seto put a hand over my lips.

 

“I'm sorry, Mr. Mutou. I hope he comes back soon; if he does, would you please let me know?” Seto said, and gave Jiichan his phone number. Seto hung up the phone and slipped his hand away from my face. “Well, at least he says Yugi ran away instead of that you kidnapped him,” Seto offered, and I smiled wryly.

 

“I wonder what Yugi-tachi are thinking,” I sighed. Seto leaned forward in his chair and hugged me lightly.

 

“They don't think,” he replied, and I laughed, instantly feeling better.

 

 

Mokuba clung to my waist, cutting off my air supply, as Seto tried to pry him away. It was Sunday afternoon and we had taken Mokuba back to school- or, at least we were trying to. Mokuba howled loudly as he clutched at me, and the other returning students were beginning to stare at the strange scene. “Mokuba, you're too old for this,” Seto grumbled, and fat tears started to roll down his little brother's face.

 

“I don't want to go to school anymore! I want to stay with you and Yami!” he wailed.

 

“Mokuba, you'll see us next Friday, and there are only three more weeks until your term ends,” Kaiba sighed.

 

“I don't care! I can't stay there, I'll starve to death!” Mokuba sulked, squeezing me tighter.

 

“Ah, now we come to the heart of the problem,” Kaiba said dryly. “Although I must say I don't blame you, Mokuba.”

 

I blushed to the roots of my hair and gently pried Mokuba's arms loose. “I'll make something for you and bring it to your school this week,” I promised, and Mokuba's face lit up.

 

“Really? Thank you so much!” he chirped. He hugged me again and ran off into the building, giving Seto a brief wave.

 

Kaiba watched his brother disappear; then turned to me with an amused expression. “I wonder if I should be jealous,” he observed, grinning at me.

 

“Of course. I like Mokuba much more than you,” I replied loftily, deliberately misunderstanding him. He laughed heartily and I stared at him, grinning, until he gave me a little push down the sidewalk; and we walked home side-by-side, each engrossed by our own thoughts.

 

Seto unlocked the door and went upstairs to work in his study, and I turned on the television and sifted through various cooking shows until I found one worthwhile. After half an hour or so, Seto came back downstairs and silently settled beside me. I gave him a brief glance and returned my attention to the television, but I could feel my neck prickle as he watched me.

 

“What?” I finally sighed, growing tired of this.

 

“I was waiting for you to yell at her. But you never did,” Seto replied, sounding disappointed.

 

“I'm trying to restrain myself,” I said dryly. “Besides, she knows what she's doing.”

 

“Oh.” Seto and I watched television for a moment before I felt his gaze on me again. I turned to him expectantly, raising an eyebrow.

 

“What now?”

 

“Nothing, I was just wondering…” Seto trailed off, examining me, his eyes hidden under his thick brown bangs, until I cleared my throat. “I was wondering… Do you love Yugi?” he asked.

 

I blinked in surprise; I'd expected him to say `I was wondering if you'd make me some eggs.' “Well, yes, of course I do,” I replied slowly. “You love Mokuba, don't you?”

 

“No, that's not what I meant,” he said, brushing the hair out of his face. “I mean; do you love him? Like that?”

 

A furious blush spread across my cheeks and I stuttered. “K-Kaiba! No! Why would you ask something like that?”

 

He shrugged. “You get so upset whenever you think about him,” Seto replied simply.

 

I reached over and laid my hand on top of his. “Seto, he's family. Yugi's like my little brother,” I explained. “I can't help worrying about him, but I definitely don't feel that way about him.”

 

Seto grinned and slipped his hand from under mine, sliding it over my shoulders instead. “Good. He's too short for you anyway,” he quipped, and I groaned.

 

“I think I'll go make dinner now.”

 

 

The house was strangely silent as I cooked, and I understood why Seto had stomped down the stairs that day. Mokuba certainly changed the atmosphere. I hummed tunelessly under my breath while I chopped cucumbers, and after a moment I heard a slight sound in the doorway. “Oh. Hi, Seto, I thought you were watching television,” I said, glancing up momentarily.

 

“It's too quiet,” he complained, gravitating toward me.

 

“Yes, I know what you mean,” I replied vaguely, opening the oven to check on the chicken. I pulled out the pan and quickly sprinkled herbs over the two chicken breasts before sliding them back inside.

 

“That looks good,” Seto said, suddenly right over my shoulder. I jumped a little and he grinned. “Can I help? I don't have anything else to do,” he added.

 

“I feel so important,” I commented dryly, but handed him a salad bowl and a head of lettuce. “Here. Tear this,” I said, and began chopping tomatoes while I watched Seto from the corner of my eye. He slowly tore one lettuce leaf from the bunch and started ripping it into tiny pieces.

 

I had to laugh. “No, like this,” I explained, ripping loose a handful of lettuce leaves and deftly tearing them into perfectly even pieces, just the right size for a salad.

 

“Never mind. I think I'll just watch you,” Kaiba sulked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. I laughed at him and quickly finished making the salad and mixing my own dressing. Then I let out a little breath and leaned against the counter beside Seto.

 

“Tired?” he asked.

 

“A little. I always move faster when I'm cooking,” I replied.

 

“I'd noticed,” he said in amusement. “I love watching you cook,” he added, staring fixedly into my flushed face. Suddenly he seemed too close. I blinked and backed away quickly, opening the oven and peering inside.

 

“The chicken should be done in about twenty minutes; we just have to wait now. I'm going…I'm going outside- I think I need some fresh air,” I said hurriedly, and rushed out the door.

 

I breathed a sigh of relief as I shut the door behind me, and rested against the rough bricks of the house. Gazing up into the hazy night sky, I wondered vaguely why I'd run from Kaiba just now; he hadn't done anything, but somehow he just seemed so close, and I had to get away from him. Maybe I just wanted some time alone.

 

I slid down the wall so that I sat on the ground, with my back resting against the house. Crickets chirped harmoniously around me and the full moon lent its ethereal beauty to the lonesome country home. This place really was peaceful- the perfect escape from everyday problems; which, of course, was exactly why I was here in the first place. I smiled to myself and closed my eyes.

 

 

“…don't care! Just do it!”

 

I heard a shout and woke with a jolt. Moonlight seeped in through my bedroom curtains, and the house was quiet. Momentarily.

 

“I'm perfectly aware of the time, thank you! I need this done tomorrow! …Yes, it's that important… I don't care what it sounds like…”

 

Seto's voice rang out through the hallway and into my open door. I raised myself to a sitting position, propped on my elbows, and my coverlet slid to the ground. I realized that I still wore my clothes and had been sleeping on top of my bedcovers, wrapped in a blanket.

 

“No, don't stop the investigation! Can't you do two things at once, Roland? You have- well, I-don't-know-how-many people under you, this is…”

 

I distantly listened to Seto yelling at his employees and slid out of the bed. The last thing I remembered was going outside; I don't think I even finished dinner. Then how did I get here? I tripped over my shoes, resting side-by-side at the foot of the bed, and moved them to the closet, searching my memory.

 

“FINE! I'll do it myself! Just have someone pick me up in a few hours.”

 

Ah. Seto, of course. Yawning, I padded down the hall to his study. As I peered in the doorway he hung up the phone, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

 

“Trouble?” I asked, grinning, in a voice still husky with sleep. He jerked his head up in surprise.

 

“Yami! You should be in bed; it's 4:00 in the morning,” Seto said.

 

“Well, someone was shouting and it woke me up,” I replied, rolling my eyes. I strode over to Seto's desk and stood beside him, leaning my back against the desk corner. “Thank you for not letting me sleep outside. I'm sorry I didn't finish making dinner,” I told him.

 

“You did. I just took it out of the oven when you said to,” Seto replied dismissively. “Then I went outside to find you and you were snoring against the side of the house.” He snickered and I swung a punch at his arm, embarrassed.

 

Seto deftly caught my hand before it hit him.

 

“What were you so upset with Roland about? What's the investigation?” I asked, changing the subject. I tugged on my hand but couldn't free it from his grasp.

 

“Nothing. Just work,” Seto replied vaguely. “I'll be gone most of the day today; I should be back late in the afternoon. Roland and the rest of my employees don't have the sense to do anything, so I have some things to take care of.”

 

“Oh… Alright, then,” I said. What would I do by myself all day?

 

Seto gave my hand a light squeeze and finally dropped it. “You should go back to bed. I'm going to try to get a couple hours' sleep before I have to leave.”

 

I nodded distantly and followed him out of the room, feeling inexplicably depressed.

 

 

I woke to the echoing sound of a car pulling out of the driveway and sat up with a gasp. I rushed to the window to see a limousine disappearing from view. So Kaiba had already left. And he didn't even say goodbye.

 

I scowled and stalked to the bathroom, muttering to myself. Fifteen minutes later I emerged from the shower, still angry; but I had convinced myself that I was being unreasonable. Why should he wake me up just to say goodbye, when he would be back this afternoon anyway? I sighed and headed to the kitchen, deciding to make Mokuba's week's supply of junk food.

 

A sheet of paper lay on the table.

 

I rushed to it eagerly, beaming when I read what Seto had written:

 

Dear Yami, I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye, but I couldn't bring myself to wake you up. I'll be back before dark, I promise; hopefully I can finish my business quickly. Have a good day. Love Seto

 

Blushing furiously, I read the note several times before carefully placing it back on the table. I then proceeded to make a huge box full of food for Mokuba, grinning the entire time.

 

 

“I'm looking for Mokuba Kaiba; I told him I'd bring him some food,” I told the secretary as I stood in the wide front hallway of Mokuba's school. My voice echoed through the marble-floored building and the secretary eyed me suspiciously.

 

“You do realize that Mokuba is one of our high-security students. We can't give him food from someone we don't know,” she informed me icily.

 

“I'm a friend of his,” I replied, glaring at her.

 

“Well, how are we supposed to know…” Just then, the bell rang and students poured noisily into the hall. A familiar black head caught sight of me and raced over excitedly.

 

“Yami! Did you bring me some food?” Mokuba squealed. I nodded, showing him the box, and he hugged me happily. “Thank you so much! It's great to see you, too. Can you stay for a while?” He grabbed my hand and started to tug me away, but the secretary cleared her throat.

 

“You still have classes today, young man. And only family is allowed to visit students,” she said sternly.

 

“Yami is family! He lives with my big brother!” Mokuba protested, clinging to my hand.

 

The secretary's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Oh… I see,” she replied weakly.

 

I blushed to the roots of my hair, realizing what Mokuba had implied. “N-no, you don't…” I stuttered, but she avoided my gaze.

 

“You may take the food, Mokuba, but your… your friend still can't stay, since you aren't through with your classes for the day,” she said.

 

Mokuba sighed and hugged me goodbye, eagerly taking the heavy box. “Wow, how much did you make?” he breathed, peering inside.

 

I shrugged. “It has to last you for a little while, and Seto was out of town today, so there wasn't much else for me to do,” I replied. The secretary made a little choked sound in the back of her throat, and I blushed again. I hurriedly said goodbye to Mokuba and rushed out of the building.

 

My face stayed red the entire way home.