He hated the very bar he was sitting in.
Hated the stench of humanity, the overbearing density of the crushed air, the heavy darkness that was pierced only by a screen hung on the wall, much too big, much too loud.
He hated it more than he could ever comprehend, yet he went there every weekend, every time, without exception.
Its name flashed in bright red neon letters, reflecting itself upon the myriad of ponds that curled up in the dents of the pavement, shimmering and shivering with every gust of wind that caressed the busy city.
A veil even darker than the insides of the bar draped itself over the dimming night, extinguishing even the brightest of stars, reminding the city's vivid youth just how late it truly was. Not the moon, not the clouds, stained the impeccable night sky, making it hard to imagine that the humble colors of dawn would soon penetrate the fortress.
A plume of dense smoke emanated from an ivory cigarette sitting between the lips of the man positioned in front of him, lips that had not stopped muttering senseless slurs laced with the overpowering stench of alcohol since their arrival.
Slowly, he let his eyelids connect to the tender skin underneath his amethyst eyes as he lifted the dark bottle to his lips and relished in the burning pleasure that the liquid provoked as it slid down his throat, stealthily reminding him of the buzz that had long since begun ringing in his own mind and would soon deposit him in the same state of the man now calling his name.
"Motou...Motou,where is that idiot with our drinks? Suzy here is getting restless." He muttered, slithering the last word into the ear of a giggling brunette who's hazy eyes gleamed with perdition.0
Yami glared at the drunken pair, not mentioning that the idiot in question was their friend and that the woman in question was not at all named Suzy, simply answering with only another sip from the icy bottle sweating between his slim fingers.
A powerful bass line bellowed throughout the small, cramped bar, swaying the entire dance floor and echoing off Yami's eardrums, building a comforting hum inside his skull, scaring away his distant doubts, his distant problems. Wiping his mind clean of the haunting images that clung so hopelessly to the corners of his mind, easing the dreaded pace of his torn heart.
Perhaps the reason for his constant attendance to the bar he so wastefully dreaded, resided in that very sensation of forget, of distance from the real world that lay outside the pair of wooden doors that swung playfully, teasingly.
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
The hurried buzzing in his mind grew louder and louder, much too loud to argue with his thoughts, much too loud to agree with them, assuring Yami that he would never know he answer to his questions.
A boisterous laugh cracked the shell surrounding his senses, bringing his attention back to the person approaching their table, frown on his face, drinks in hand.
"Damn jerks. You might try getting your own drinks next time." He scowled, sliding the bottles across the table, leaving behind a wet streak that Yami couldn't help but admire as it reflected the rainbow of colors that descended from the inordinate screen.
Duke Devlin, cigarette burning elegantly between his fingers, gave the men as slick a smile as he could, smoke slithering into the air through the gaps in his teeth, like a seething dragon proud of his deeds, the ring hanging from his nostril only adding to his illusion.
"Tell me then, my dear friend, what purpose would you serve?" He said with an almost coy tone, the woman beside him laughing with more enthusiasm than she should have.
Tristan Taylor scoffed as he smuggled himself into the tightness of the rows on his way to his seat, long since accustomed to Duke's toxic incoherence, simply sharing a knowing glance with Yami, who was beginning to lose touch with reality himself.
The sky outside rumbled loudly with pride as if it had finally found a way to scare off the humans who felt they could defy the solitude that the eerie night demanded.
A flash of lightning illuminated the thick, oncoming clouds, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
Flirtatious giggles, bare legs, abundant bosoms, high heels, luscious lipstick, plastic perfume.
Everything that knew how to tickle his senses seemed to lie on the other side of the window carved on the wall that ended their table, reminding him that there was but one thing missing in his weekend routine.
His eager eyes wrapped themselves around everything and everyone they could, quenching their passionate thirst with mere glimpses of the night he could be having.
Another laugh reached his ears, feeling like a pin was trying to make its way in, the hum reverberating through his skull suddenly losing its earlier comfort, the room surrounding him slowly spinning.
Instinctively he clenched his eyes shut, willing, forcing his body to regain its posture despite the thickness of alcohol that swam through his veins, making his blood dreary.
A sharp tug on his sleeve obliged him to return to reality, his eyes opening to meet with those of Duke who were shining with an instinct Yami knew all to well.
With a mere shake of his head he pointed to the screen across the room, a fiery smirk already gliding across his face as he settled back into his seat and placed his cigarette firmly between his lips.
Yami turned and instantly felt his body soothe at the sight of the woman who's face donned the screen, her playful expression and daring eyes feeling like they were purposely digging into Yami.
Diana Kaiba.
Cousin to Seto Kaiba, though the last name was far from the only thing they shared.
Both known for their explosive tempers, their harsh manners when it came to people, both sitting atop empires, both orphans.
Sitting at a lengthy white table, she was surrounded by microphones of different colors and shapes, all of them gathered in a circle around her, as if they were eager to absorb her every word.
The sound was muted and overpowered by music, leaving Yami to guess at what her teasing lips were trying to communicate, though by the expression seething from her eyes and the flashing red headlines at the bottom of the screen, it was not good news.
Yami glared at the screen, simply mesmerized by how gracefully her features danced as she spoke, knowing Duke's gaze sat patiently on him, for his attraction to the Kaiba was common knowledge amongst his closest friends.
His eyes traveled the screen seconds longer before they began to resent the harsh brightness that contrasted all too strongly to the darkness of the surrounding bar, forcing his eyes to peel their attention from the screen and back into the welcoming darkness, greeted with yet another wave of smoke.
"Quite the beauty isn't she?" Duke teased as he flicked his cigarette toward the ashtray sitting in the center of the mahogany table.
Yami felt the his body heat rise to his cheeks, travel his neck, then descend toward the rest of his body, although whether it was from the alcohol or the woman he was not sure.
In the form of a spontaneous smirk he answered his friend's question, their locked gazes playing with the same idea, though it was Duke who turned thoughts into words.
"Makes you wonder what she's like in bed, doesn't it?" He slithered, the lust of his thoughts sliding from his teeth.
The same smirk that earlier donned Yami's lips took a darker hue, his expression complying with Duke's suggestion, his answer glowing plainly across his face.
A muffled chuckle puffed Duke's cheeks, stretching his chapped lips into a wide smile, like a father proud of his son's deeds. The invigorating smell of alcohol penetrated Yami's nostrils as the man leaned in, his eyes hungry with instinct.
"I'll tell you what," he rasped, like an eager child willing to share a secret, "I'm willing to bet you can get her into bed with you."
Yami stared blankly at his friends prowling expression, skimming through the uttered words as if written in his eyes, patiently waiting for the remainder of his friend's proposition.
"If she opens those Kaiba Banks in the near future and follows Kaiba Corps original business plan, chances are Devlin Inc. will miss this quarters mark." He rasped, eyes set ablaze and voice donning a chillingly striking sobriety.
"I need to get a hold of even a draft of whatever business plan she's set to follow. I tried the shareholders we have in common but I'm not getting a word out of those bastards and I need to know how many of my clients will scurry to her side like rats in a stampede." He said, the urgency on his tongue sounding to Yami like those very rats were fleeing from his mouth, searching for his reason.
Duke's eyes pried violently into his, skipping past the obvious and running towards the mischievous.
"Can you do it?" He seethed, words taking the shape of a command.
Yami swallowed rough and heavy, forcing his mind to shed the alcohol's poison long enough to make a rash decision, to see the beacon of reason that would guide him to an answer.
Many a times Yami had rushed to his friend's expertise in running a business. For the savvy wit he possessed in the face of a challenge, Duke possessed in the field of money, of negotiations and flowing sums. The names Duke held atop his fingertips were of vital necessity for Yami and his future empire, names that Duke had never hesitated to release to him.
When Yami ruled Duel Monsters with skill and wisdom, Duke warped the game into a lucrative business, a skill he tainted onto everything he did.
A deep breath rushed into his lungs, his eyes taking one last sip of the mesmerizing woman that now faded out of shot. His ego swelled inside his chest, its poison reassuring his ability to meet the challenge, to repay a friend.
"Done."
Duke simply nodded as if the answer were the one anticipated, his cigarette sitting between his fingers, patiently awaiting the pull of his lips.
"You have one week."
Yami's smile faltered, like the neon sign that hung outside.
"Done." He repeated.