Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Irksome Nature ❯ Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.

 

Author's Notes: An update...shocking, I know. I haven't had much time for writing these days (well, for fiction at least; I had plenty to do for a report that shall not be named), and most of the free time I do have is spent finishing off work. So, I'm sad to say my updates will be erratic at best.

 

Thank you to GG for quick beta and the helping hand and thank you to everyone who's been waiting patiently for this chapter, if you're still here. -grin- I floundered a bit in some parts because I had to get use to writing creatively again, but in the end, found that I love Seto and Yami just as much as I did when I first started this story. And that definitely helped. The plot doesn't really thicken, but now some things are out in the open. This should hopefully answer some questions about their situation. And if not, there's always the next chapter. -smile-

 

As per usual, constructive criticism is welcome. I haven't said this in a while -- I just assumed everyone knew this -- but in any case, I just wanted to make it clear that if anyone has any ideas on improvement and etc, feel free to tell me.

Edited to fix some errors.

Completed: 7.4.05

 

 

Chapter 8

 

 

 

"That was one of your employees?"

 

Not even twenty minutes later, and the silence was broken by a well-meaning, but irritating Pharaoh who just didn't know when to let go. I sighed as my mind worked furiously through every option. To tell or not to tell, that was the Shakespearean question. On one hand, it wouldn't hurt for Yami to be on his guard during this risky, limbo time-between when Hirato's knowledge of my plans were still uncertain. On the other hand, I didn't want the contents of the suitcase to be revealed either -- at least not until I had a thorough look through. It was a difficult decision to make considering that what I told him might be what he tells Yugi later when we get back. I decided to stick to the truth as close as possible, but without revealing the finer points of my investigation. For some strange reason, I was reluctant to lie to Yami, to say something I didn't mean. I was an idiot.

 

I tossed aside the discomfort and said calmly, "Yes, he was."

 

"What does he do?" Yami asked, fingers tapping the briefcase briefly.

 

"General things," I answered indifferently.

 

"General things like?" He tapped again.

 

"Like research. Investigations. Being slovenly and miscreant," I muttered.

 

"I see. Like all KaibaCorp employees."

 

"Hell no," I nearly growled out, but managed to keep my voice steady at the last moment. Then I growled for real. That damn Pharaoh had caught me out in the worst way possible.

 

“I meant he's different. He was specifically hired for a special case,” I said more calmly, loosening my white-knuckled grip on my poor steering wheel.

 

There was a reason why my cars were specially made -- if they hadn't been, I would have been replacing cars left and right because of my unruly and unpredictable temper. Or so Mokuba had said. I just thought he wanted to encourage my creative side or some sort of nonsense by getting me to design my own cars, which was amusing in its own right. I had already designed my own Blue Eyes jet, train, and statue for Kaiba Land; certainly it wasn't that far off to go that extra mile and design my own transportation. But he wanted to stimulate and support my interests, so what could I do? Except search his room for those new age, self-help (or in this case, brother-helping) books he must have read and burn them. Then burn those bloody relationship-sprouting magazines that were bound to be there somewhere as well, hidden next to those books, I bet.

 

For a second, I forgot all about Yami in my enthusiasm to destroy the damn things that were putting strange ideas into Mokuba's head.

 

“Different, I see. And that special case is Hirato?” he questioned.

 

I blinked and scowled, staring resolutely straight ahead. My no-answer must have been answer enough, because Yami gave a small smile from the corner of my perception. I scowled some more. That damn spirit had known how to pull information out of me through my gritted teeth from the beginning, and I was extremely unhappy at that; he was annoying enough as it was without adding another tick on my list of weaknesses against the spirit. If I wasn't careful, that list would be blown out of proportion and into an alarming state much like Mokuba's list, which I had never minded. This was different though. This was different because it wasn't Mokuba.

 

“And let me guess... This briefcase contains the information needed to get a handle on Hirato?” He grinned. “You don't need to answer that.”

 

I snorted. “Then why bother asking in the first place?”

 

“It's fun?” he shrugged.

 

“Ha, ha.” I took a second to give him a sour look before turning back to the road. It wasn't as if I could crash. Mokuba had been very enthused when I told him I'd added in security measures of my own design. He didn't even blink when I mentioned quite casually that all his future cars would be too, but I didn't think he would be. He'd live with me for years upon years -- I was sure he knew me better than I knew myself at times.

 

“Well, it is. You're a very fun person to bother sometimes,” he admitted sheepishly. “I feel absolutely guilty annoying Yugi. It's just not the same.”

 

“What about the posse?”

 

He coughed out his laugh. “While we're all friends by extension, I still feel uncomfortable in my own role.” He sighed. “To them, I'm another Yugi. But in reality, it's not as simple as lighter and darker halves. And you really should give them a chance,” he said more humourously, shaking off that darker, sombre mood I thought he was more human in.

 

I shrugged dismissively, not making any promises. He nodded, somewhat pleased with my concession, and once more turned his attention to the scenery. In this, we were not much different, I mused. He wasn't as open and friendly as he appeared, but then, was that my impression of Yugi leaking over? I never gave them much thought, other than the usual raging curses and demands for a rematch. I never gave Yami much more than the usual look-over, though I probably should have. To me, he was my worthy opponent -- I didn't want or need anything more than that, including the idea of him as a person with his own issues. Issues, that were perhaps of equal weight to my own? Maybe. I didn't really want to think about it. It made me uncomfortable to care for someone that was not Mokuba. Especially this someone.

 

I shook it off, trying to concentrate on driving even though by now I was fully in control of my movements and didn't really need to focus as intently as I first had.

 

“Do you know what's in here?”

 

I sighed. I knew it was too good to be true. To distract Yami, no doubt I would have needed to do a whole lot more than insult his friends, inquire about his life, and mock his friends.

 

“Not yet,” I answered with as casually as I could.

 

For a minute, he was silent. Then, “When you do, you can inform me. Or not.” He shrugged. “I was ordered to protect you, and well, I can't do that if you're off somewhere, and I'm not there.”

 

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I had no idea what words to use. To say I was surprised was an understatement, but more shocking was the fact that I felt...slightly touched. It was an uncomfortable emotion, and I quickly shoved it away, feeling all too weak.

 

“I -- I -- will try,” I finally said, the barest hesitation underneath my words.

 

He gave a small smile and nodded. I grew more confused by the moment and thanked Yami silently for letting me have my peace. I knew I needed it.

 

 

0000

 

 

 

The drive back was a lot quicker than I had expected. When I told Yami this he had made some comment about the quality of my driving, to which I told him to go drive himself then, if he was so inclined. He responded by reminding me of our planned driving lesson with relish, and I scowled as was my habit. He didn't endear himself to me either when upon returning home, he disappeared back into the Puzzle at once, leaving me in the uneasy hands of Yugi and Mokuba, who were both looking at me with a strange gleam in their eyes. Coward.

 

Not for the first time, I was uneasily reminded of their very similar stubborn nature. I knew something unpleasant awaited me, but I just didn't know how to diffuse it.

 

"How was your trip?" Yugi asked pleasantly enough. Unfortunately, he was smiling too much at Mokuba (more than he usually did anyway), and they were exchanging smug, pleased looks. I could feel the usual headache coming up and I made it another mental note to get more painkillers.

 

“Fine,” I muttered, wondering if I could run up the stairs before the interrogation began.

 

“Just fine?” This time it was Mokuba who piped up.

 

I glanced at him uncomfortably. “Of course it was just fine.”

 

“What, no making out?” Mokuba ask, face falling.

 

I nearly choked. “What -- what did you say? No, don't answer that.” I scanned the area desperately, looking for some means of escape -- any, at all since I wasn't too picky. I had jumped through windows before, I could do it again. Unfortunately, my little brother had predicted this and was, along with Yugi, blocking off all exits as it were.

 

Mokuba sighed long-sufferingly. “You don't need to pretend, you know. We know.” He did some unnameable gesture with his hands and I felt like I was in some demented dream (again) where I could not possibly be discussing my fake, on-the-rocks relationship with Yami -- and to my little brother and Yugi, no less. I needed a drink. Yes, a drink, and suddenly a possible future as an half-mad alcoholic wasn't that bad at all. Not at all.

 

“Mokuba, I --” I started, but didn't know how to carry on. “I am not actually in a relationship with Yami.”

 

“Well, duh.” He rolled his eyes, looking as if I was the one not getting it. “Why do you think I'm trying to get you guys together again?” He sighed. “Sheesh. And you're supposed to be a genius -- you're just lucky you've got me to help with your relationship woes.”

 

I was speechless, and yet -- I had known it was coming for quite some time. “Relationship woes?”

 

“Big brother!” Mokuba just sighed again; then he scowled. “And don't you dare burn all my reading material.”

 

“I wasn't going to do anything.” Mostly, I added silently. Unfortunately, I really wasn't going to now that he had made what he wanted clear. For a second, I really wished I wasn't such a soft-hearted mush when it came to Mokuba, then I decided that since I wouldn't get my wish, I might as well suffer miserably for it.

 

“I promise I won't burn your books or magazines, okay?” Painkillers, I thought glumly. I really needed some extra strong painkillers.

 

“Yep!” Mokuba relaxed and then narrowed his eyes. “Hey, you can't change the subject.”

 

“I wouldn't dare,” I said with a sigh. I really was beginning to sigh a lot recently. It was even starting to annoy me.

 

“Yep. Now let's get back to you and Yami. I've been talking to Yugi about it and we've both agreed that it's too good a thing to be left alone. You guys can't just break up; it's just -- just -- impossible.”

 

I turned to Yugi, narrowing my eyes. “And what did you say?”

 

“Well, if you want my opinion...I happen to agree with Mokuba. I think you guys are great together; there's no reason why you shouldn't be at all,” he said smoothly, smiling that innocent, friendly smile that was practically his trademark as far as I was concerned.

 

“I noticed you didn't mention anything about our...break-up.” God, that was difficult to say. I never thought I could say it at all. I never thought I would ever have to. My eyebrow twitched and my hands ached to throttle someone just for the hell of it.

 

“It's Mokuba,” he just said with a shrug, and I had to agree. It was Mokuba's idea, Mokuba's little project, and one of the reasons I had never stopped him from interfering before. Far be it for me to to be hyprocritical, so I couldn't blame Yugi for weakening in the face of Mokuba's exicted demeanour. Fortunately, I could still get irritated at him for being an accomplice.

 

“That didn't mean you had any business interfering with my life,” I nearly hissed.

 

“I wouldn't have, you know, but Mokuba was very adamant. He thought you two were a great...couple.” Yugi grinned mischievously. “And he's convinced me. What was I suppose to do?”

 

I sighed, knowing indeed how persuasive Mokuba could be with his pleading dark eyes and sniffling nose. I had always been a soft touch for Mokuba's sniffles and I couldn't really blame Yugi for falling either. Mokuba was a deadly weapon all by himself; we were merely mortals under his spell.

 

Sighing again (damn it, will I ever stop?), I decided not to carry on with that thread of conversation. I winced, and thought glumly that I was being entirely too optimistic. Knowing Mokuba (and Yugi, who looked too amused), more was forthcoming and escape was an impossibility. I was in for another talk and unless I could somehow knock myself out -- I eyed the windows contemplatively -- I was going to have a full blown headache, wishing for alcohol to quickly dull my senses and leave me incomprehensible enough so I couldn't tell what was happening. On the other hand, knowing Mokuba, I would be taken full advantage of, and maybe being a drunken lush wasn't quite a good idea. I wondered if it wasn't too late to buy painkillers in bulk. Probably not. They wouldn't dare.

 

“Maybe we can have this conversation later, okay?” I tried not to grimace in anticipation.

 

Mokuba looked at me with narrowed, studying eyes. He finally nodded when he was satisfied that I wasn't balking from an instinctive need to run far, far away and actually had an important reason to leave. Or, at least from the way he tilted his head in annoyance, he figured it wasn't the only reason; he wanted me to give him his full attention and at the moment, he knew I wouldn't have.

 

“All right, Seto,” he said in firm tones. As if his use of my name wasn't an indication. “For now, I'll let you do your thing, but after, we need to talk.”

 

“Will I have this talk with Yugi as well?” I raised my eyebrow.

 

He paused, and I could see the wheels spinning inside his head. He turned to Yugi and they stepped away from in a couple of smooth strides, conferring in hushed whispers and small gestures, the expression on their faces extremely serious. I could feel the curling uneasiness centre within my stomach, just like it did every time I came into contact with a Mokuba who was planning nefarious things with me in mind; only this time, Yugi was in on it too, and I always knew his innocent exterior was just an act. A very good act. Yugi could get away with it, but I prided on my observational skills, which were telling me to run now, and to run quickly. I took a brief uneasy moment to wonder whether I was going to get out what ever they had planned unscathed, before Mokuba nodded to Yugi and stepped back to me.

 

“We're discussed this thoroughly, and we have agreed that both of us will be involved. You can go do your thing now,” he dismissed me with a tone I thought I had a patent on. Obviously not, as I have noticed, but I couldn't help the tiny surge of pride I felt; Mokuba was going to be an ideal businessman, I thought, bemused. He was already giving out reassuring (at face value), circumspect comments like a professional. I felt somewhat validated; after all, I was Mokuba's primary caregiver. Whether that made me the cause of all the trouble I was in now remained to be seen. I certainly wouldn't admit it.

 

“Of course,” I told him, hiding a small smile.

 

He nodded, then paused, scrunching up his face in a very thoughtful way. “Wait a second here.”

 

I watched politely, with an eyebrow raised inquiringly at Yugi as Mokuba rushed off upstairs, to his room, I assumed. Yugi gave a tiny shrug, as if to say well, it's Mokuba. Who knows what he'll do next? And I had to agree.

 

We waited in silence for Mokuba's return.

 

“So,” Yugi said awkwardly.

 

“Yes,” I said politely, just barely stopping myself from twiddling my thumbs idly.

 

“Uh, yeah. So. Nice weather, huh?”

 

I looked at the ceiling. “I guess. From the outside.”

 

He looked up at the ceiling then. “Huh. Yeah, uh, that's what I meant.” He scratched the back of his neck, his body language giving off siren wails of uncomfortable! Wary! Nervous!

 

“Well,” I said, “You and Mokuba seem to be close.” Well, that wasn't a brilliant segue on my part, I sighed. It was apparent that my brain was only wired for business and business only. Who cared about conversational and social skills, I thought wryly. Certainly not me.

 

“Uh, yeah, we are.” He turned to me, releasing a strand of tenseness. “I mean, we're all friends, and Mokuba's totally cool. He set me up with Tea, did he tell you that?

 

Heh. I tried not to notice the smooth blush across his cheeks. “Oh, he did,” I drawled out. “A dinner date, right?”

 

He laughed gently, that last bit of discomfit disappearing like grey clouds upon a sunny day. “Right. It was supposed to be dinner for all of us, you know, but Mokuba sort of 'forgot' to mention it to everyone except for Tea, me, and him. He didn't tell us it was a date at all! But we sort of realised it when he excused himself to the bathroom and never came back. Yami was the one who told me he left, and then smirked all the way back to the Puzzle.”

 

I snorted, amused and slightly charmed. Yugi would probably never know that at this moment, when he was talking about Mokuba with fond affection and bemusement, he had endeared himself to me. Not completely though. I had my doubts about it ever being possible for me to trust anyone as much as I trusted Mokuba, but it was plenty more than what I had been feeling before. Had it only been a fortnight? Maybe a couple of days less than that, but I really hadn't kept count, and already I was settling in a routine with two people I barely knew. Rationally and logically, Yami and Yugi were acquaintances at the most. Irrationally and emotionally -- and this was the side I never liked; it was a weakness in the past and it could be a weakness right now -- I felt like I had know Yami my entire life. I felt as familiar and as comfortable with him as I did with Mokuba. The dreams weren't helping a whit either. It was a familiar puzzle I hesitated to piece, and Yami made it much more personal. And Yugi -- Yugi had the most amazing ability to insinuate himself into any situation and make himself at home. There were times when I passed by Yugi and never took another glance simply because he had become a frequently seen fixture at the mansion.

 

“He's very cunning,” I finally said, not bothering to hide the soft look in my eyes.

 

Yug laughed again. “He must have gotten it from you.”

 

I shrugged modestly. “It's a dominant genes.”

 

“I guess being nice and non-ruthless and -- did I mention nice? -- is a recessive gene, huh?”

 

My lips twisted up, and I fought with myself. It wasn't a smile, dammit. It was just a small twist of my lips. Not even that far up; it might as well be horizontal.

 

I was about to say something -- maybe to cut our bonding moment short or maybe just to go get to another more safer topic, I couldn't decide -- when Mokuba bounded back, footsteps making thumping noises. I noticed the sheet of paper and pen he was carrying and raised an eyebrow.

 

“A contract,” Mokuba stated.

 

I tried to fight off another smile. “A contract,” I repeated.

 

“Yes. If you could just sign there and there,” Mokuba muttered as he pointed to the large X scribbled near the end and then looked up at me expectantly.

 

“Of course,” I said, amused and giving up in defeat. I was wrapped around Mokuba's little pinky and didn't he know it.

 

Picking up the sheet, I quickly skimmed through the contents, which didn't take too long since it was relatively simple. However, Mokuba had made certain to include clauses and conditions in smaller writing just beneath his contract and just about the signature spaces.

 

“There's a hefty price to pay for breaking the contract,” I said aloud. And then added, “I don't see why you need to be compensated with a jet either.”

 

Mokuba sighed pointedly. “Well, if you have time for renegotiations...”

 

I smiled and gave him an appreciative glance. “Very nice thinking there.”

 

He grinned up at me, bright and sparkling. “Thanks! I mean, I'm just using all the advantages I can get.”

 

“Yes, you are. Good work. I shouldn't have revealed my hand earlier,” I mused off topic.

 

“You'll do better next time, big brother.” He patted my shoulder comfortingly. Then, he said, “Maybe you should sign now. You've read all of it, right?”

 

I chuckled. “Yes, yes. I'll sign now.”

 

Taking the pen, and settling down the briefcase I had been holding onto for the entire scene, I scribbled my name in neat, tidy letters and then handed it back along with the contract. I had to chuckle again when Mokuba toke a brief moment to eye my signature.

 

“Satisfied?” I inquired, picking up the briefcase.

 

“Yep.” He nodded and folded the piece of paper neatly. “We'll be talking soon, Seto,” he warned me.

 

“Of course,” I said back as I made my way quickly to the stairs and hopefully to my study with no more mishaps.

 

“Good then.”

 

I didn't need to look at Mokuba to see the determined expression on his face. It was eerily similar to mine. I held in my sigh. Obviously, Mokuba had a very clear idea of what was going to happen, and I was certain I wouldn't like it at all.

 

 

0000

 

 

I wasn't in the mood for anything; especially not a friendly, politely, convoluted discussion that centred around the crop season while edging subtly towards palace gossip. If I wanted gossip, I would have gone to Atem and let him retell overheard conversations dramatically. But I didn't. So I wasn't. And if Atem was looking more and more like he was angry with me, well, then I had nothing to do with it. It wasn't my damn fault if he couldn't talk rationally like the son of the Pharaoh he was; I had made all the overtures I needed -- I had even sought out his company more than a couple of times -- but apparently, Atem wanted nothing of it. Nothing of me.

 

Good for him, I thought sourly, and tuned out Akanatu, who didn't seem to notice my inattention. He was too busy yapping about Tenata's recent indiscretions with a beautiful, young priestess, and really, he hadn't exactly needed a listening audience anyway -- he just couldn't bear to keep his mouth shut for a moment longer and unfortunately for me, he had happened upon me just as I was walking towards my chambers. Only years of ingrained training stopped me from walking right through him and even at that, it was marginal at best. If he didn't stop soon, there were going to be dire consequences. I was sick of random palace gossipers telling me useless information.

 

I gritted my teeth and stood still; I waited impatiently for Akanatu to finish his sentence and before I interrupted. “Right. I have a prior engagement,” I said bluntly. Then, I left quickly, too fast for him to respond or reply (which was what I had wanted). Smirking a little in triumph, I headed off to my chambers as my muscles ached with each step. Today's training had been more difficult than I had expected, particularly against an opponent whom I'd dismissed earlier as weak. That should teach me to be so flippant about surface appearances. It wasn't as if I didn't know about deceptive facades and the fatalities of underestimating an opponent -- it was just that putting it into practice was a lot harder than I had expected. I should probably blame it on my personality. Just because I was straightforward and direct didn't mean others were too -- it just meant that I hated wasting the time and effort in trying to feign nonchalance when I could have just attacked and started the battle.

 

Sighing softly, I took a left and entered my chambers. I hadn't given much thought to the decors of my room then, and I didn't now. It never made much sense for me to bother with trivialities such as room decoration or the right amount of gold and bronze sculptures in my room. And I never understood how anyone could. The room was to be slept in, not shown off during celebrations and festivities. Sometimes I had to wonder about the people around me.

 

I pulled off my headdress and threw it onto my bed. There were bruises smudging my arms and ribs that were just only darkening my skin to a dark grey, and I rubbed at them with a wince. Yes, I had underestimated him. I had won the battle, but not within a few near misses, and while I was not without anger, there was a part of me that felt satisfied with the win. With the challenge. The victory wouldn't have been as sweet without the near losses, I thought tiredly, sliding onto my bed. I should probably wash first and sink my bruises in warm water to ease the pain, but I was tired. And I didn't really want to move, so I arranged my body into a relaxed pose, back sprawling on the sheets with ease and legs spread.

 

There were things I should think about, I recalled fuzzily, but I didn't really want to at the moment, and I was so comfortable. So very comfortable...I could think about Atem later. Later, when I wasn't so tired and slow. Later, when I could think clearly enough to fix this rift that suddenly appeared, like a sandstorm in the middle of the desert.

 

 

0000

 

I woke up with a start, my mouth dry and my head thumping in time with my slightly erratic heart. The dreams -- damn the dreams. They had became clearer since the first time I had awoken with vague images and uninvited emotions welling out of me. I hated it. I ran and avoided and pretended like my nights weren't full of memories that couldn't be true, but it hadn't worked. It hadn't stopped, and now I dreaded and longed for sleep. Just sleep. Nothing too demanding, was it?

 

Ha. It was probably just my luck that what I wanted would never be within my grasp. I shouldn't be surprised. Scrubbing my face, I sighed and glanced down at my desk. Every inch was covered with documentation and various financial statements I was slightly impressed by. Hiberts had been thorough, I admitted reluctantly, which made my plan to annihilate him void, so I didn't really want to think about it anymore.

 

Back to thoughts of Atem then I guess --

 

Bloody hell. I rubbed my face hastily, trying to shake off the last remaining visages of that dream, of various dreams. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to know. It couldn't be real, I tried to tell myself. It couldn't be happening. I never wanted to believe before, and I didn't now, but since the dreams had came, it had become unavoidable.

 

I needed to be distracted. I needed to not think for just a moment. Just a moment of respite.

 

Sighing, I stood up, blocking any and all thoughts from entering my mind. Distraction. Yes, I needed a distraction. But that wasn't going to come up as I sat here, staring unseeing at the blurring papers in front of me. I needed to somehow find a temporary distraction -- outside of my study.

 

So, with a twinge of regret, I carefully packed up the documents and put them into my briefcase. I took my briefcase, locked the door to my study, and went down the stairs for a much needed distraction that had to be there. Sometimes, Mokuba would like to mention my paranoia fondly, but I had never taken our life lightly. We were in precarious positions, and I never forgot that for a second. I didn't mind. Mokuba was supposed to live his life freely and without restrictions like I wanted for him, and if that meant I had to be cautious enough for both of us, then I would gladly accept -- had gladly accepted.

 

As soon as I made it down, I noticed the soft volume of voices, television voices perkily informing about the advantages of well-toned abdominal muscles. For a second, I was taken aback, but then, a sense of familiarity set in and I suddenly knew.

 

I entered the lounge quietly, my briefcase held still by my side, and watched with amusement as Yami, wrapped around with large, fluffy blankets, looked at the informercials with fascination. I fought to keep a laugh in when Yami pushed the blankets down and lifted up his shirt, poking at his abdomen with a steady concentration.

 

“I don't think you need that exercise machine,” I said, amused.

 

To my surprise, Yami looked up and blinked and then said, “You think? Because that woman in the television said health and well-toned abs were important.” He poked at his abdomen again. “Does this look all right?”

 

I laughed outright. Yami was providing me enough entertainment (and probably blackmail material) to last a lifetime. “Yes, your abs are fine,” I said mockingly.

 

He paid me no mind. “That's good then,” he said, pleased. “What about yours? How is your health?”

 

I snorted. “My health is fine. And so are my abdominal muscles.” Then I paused, because I didn't really say that. I didn't. I wanted to change the subject quickly.

 

“Sleepless tonight?”

 

He nodded, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “You can say that.”

 

“Bad dreams?” I asked, not really expecting anything.

 

“No...not bad,” he said softly. “I don't think so anyway.”

 

The air was suddenly filled with tension, with something unspoken, and I bit my lip. This felt dangerous somehow, in that way when goose-bumps started rising and a chill could literally cover the whole skin. There were signs, warning beeps in my mind telling me to turn away, to change the subject again, because this wasn't what I needed. Disaster and change lies ahead, it told me. Turn. Away. Now.

 

I said, “Tell me.”

 

He looked at me, a strange expression on his face. “I think you already know.”

 

“Tell me,” I insisted, because this was the only way.

 

“I'm regaining my memories. They come when I sleep. Sometimes not. I don't know -- ” he cut off.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “You don't remember at first, but then you do.”

 

He nodded, as if he knew all along.

 

“Did you -- why me?” I asked.

 

“I don't know. I...just don't know. I thought I was regaining my memories. I didn't know about you, but then there was that night, when we both fell asleep and the dream felt so strong, so real...” he trailed off.

 

“Like that time at school,” I murmured, because, of course. That was when it first began. That was when I first felt Yami. I had never imagined it could lead to this.

 

“I didn't remember at first,” I said reluctantly.

 

“I thought so,” he said, pondering. “They felt different after that. More real.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

We watched the television for a little while before he asked quietly, “What happened in your dream?”

 

“You were angry at m -- Seth.” My mouth thinned. There were some things I still needed to keep separate.

 

“I see.” He hesitated and then gave a wry smile. “Apparently, that wasn't my fault. It was yours.”

 

“Was not,” I said indignantly. “You wouldn't even talk to me. How mature is that? And you, being the son to the Pharaoh.”

 

“Hmpf. Don't go saying things you don't understand. You were being a jerk.” He glared at me. I glared back.

 

“Fine. Help me understand then.” I narrowed my eyes. “Tell me how I, somehow, became the jerk. It'd better be good.”

 

“Fine. You want to know? Fine.” Yami looked like he was going to stand up, blankets still wrapped around his body, and stomp his foot.

 

“I'll tell you,” he paused. “After we finish watching this first.”

 

I stared at him incredulously, but he just smiled and patted the space next to him. He lifted his blanket questioning.

 

Sighing, I went and settled next to him, letting Yami wrap his blankets around me comfortably. I put my briefcase on my left, between the edge of the couch and my arm, and leaned back.

 

It was...kind of pleasant.

 

 

0000

 

 

I woke up with a start and stared into ruby-red eyes.

 

“What?” I frowned in confusion and looked around. I was in my room. On my bed. And Atem was -- was sitting right on top of me, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

 

My head fell back, and I sighed. “Yes, Atem?”

 

He narrowed his eyes. “Is that all you have to say?” He poked at my chest. Poke. Poke. Poke.

 

I swatted at his hand with an annoyed huff. “What else do you want me to say? You're the one who kept ignoring me.”

 

“Of course I was ignoring you,” he snapped out. “I was trying to show you how you were ignoring me.”

 

It took a while for my mind to grasp that sentence, but when I did, I said, “I wasn't ignoring you. When was I ignoring you?”

 

“You! You!” Atem sputtered and then crossed his arms again. “You are -- you -- you!”

 

“Same to you,” I said with a scowl. “I don't know what the heck happened, but I wasn't ignoring you.”

 

He paused in mid-incoherent rant. “You weren't? The how come you never had time to spend with me? You're supposed to be protecting me.”

 

He appeared a little lost and a little miserable, and I didn't even fight it when my anger and annoyance went away. I always had a soft spot for Atem. It never changed, and sometimes, I didn't want it to.

 

“I have training. I have to get stronger so I can protect you better.” I tickled his knee gently, coaxing a small smile.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” I snorted. “What? Did you think I enjoy having Taketna order me around?”

 

He giggled. “No. You hate being ordered around. Except by me,” he added.

 

I glared, and he giggled, and everything felt right again.

 

He poked at me again. “You wanna play now?”

 

“No.”

 

“Please? Please? Please? Please?”

 

“All right, all right.” I rubbed my temple. “Fine.”

 

Atem grinned. I sighed out of habit, but I didn't really mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Daje Elle Namte: It's, well, been four months since I last updated. -sweatdrops- But I haven't given up on this story. I won't, because this is the first Seto/Yami fiction I wrote -- and especially because the end isn't so far off now. -laughs- Thank you very much for your generous review, and I'm glad you're managing to enjoy this even if I haven't updated in a while. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint, detail and characterisation wise. I tried to keep Kaiba within character without making him too soft or too vulnerable, and I definitely tried to keep Yami within his (though he's more flexible).

 

Solanzer: -laughs- I wouldn't say that no one writes Kaiba as well as I do -- I mean, there's all these others with excellent, gorgeous Kaiba characterisation, and I'm just... well, I'm just not there. But it's nice of you to say so. -grins- It just means I'm doing something right, yes?

 

SarcasticBastet: Hey. Thanks for the review. The offer was made around two weeks at the most. I tried to make the atmosphere seem like it was new, but at the same time, I also tried to make the relationship between Kaiba and Yami seem comfortable, yet uneasy. I wanted the whole situation to feel new, but also, I wanted convey across the idea that Kaiba knew Yami and that Yami knew Kaiba, and all this living together was familiar to them, but not really. Does this make sense? I hope I conveyed that all right within the story.

 

BLeedingMArionette: -laughs- So true. Nobody gets the better of Seto. And I'm glad you haven't given up on this story. -grin-

 

Blue September: That sucks. I'm sorry about your files... and I'm pleased that you liked chapter seven that much! Enough to print it and read it twenty times. -grins- Thanks. This just makes me feel all proud and etc. -laughs- I hope this chapter's worth the wait!

 

Pysche: Ha! I bet Mokuba's going to give himself a big pat on the back and then try to play Cupid with someone else. ;-)

 

And thank you to Helix1047, Toyin, Yit-Ha, Lady Yevon, Sweetbriar, halowing4, Dark Wind, PyroDragon117, and Niffe_24.

 

No, I'm not dead. -laughs- This chapter is longer than the others to make up for seeming like I was dead (or for this story appearing as if it was dead). Anyway, hope you enjoy.

ETA: A beta is someone who looks over my work and tells me what I need to fix and etc. Hope that helps (if you didn't already find out).