Familiar Stranger
By Lindsay R. Honosky
Chapter One: Running Late
"Kisara. . .?" He tapped his foot outside her door impatiently, looking at his watch once more. Ten past the hour; at this rate she was going to be late. Again.
"Kisara, come on! How much sleep do you possibly need?" His answer was a soft thud from the other side of the door. Mahad sighed; she could be so difficult, "You know I could just break the door down, right?"
"Mmmmm!" The muffled, angry reply came from further inside the room, but was unmistakably that of his childhood friend. A few more loud clangs and crashes and the door clicked to the unlocked position. Mahad stifled a laugh when he saw what was inside. Her hair was a mess; like a poorly maintained blond Barbie. Well, almost blond; more brown than that. Anyway, she was looking at him with her usual "I'm going to kill you" morning look, blue eyes still hazy with sleep, when the relation of his presence hit her. "Oh. . .! Oh no!" She shrieked, eyes widening suddenly, "What time is it?!"
"A little past ten--"
"Oh man, oh man!" She rushed back inside her room, slamming the door behind her. In that sea of decay she somehow managed to find her work uniform, slip it on, comb through her hair, and rush back out, only to have her arm grabbed by Mahad. "What?!" She snapped, almost falling.
"You forgot your cell," he said calmly, brown eyes laughing though his lips gave no hint of a smile. Fishing it out of his pocket, he tossed the little phone to her other hand and let go, watching as she almost rammed into the opposite wall. He sighed as she rushed down the stairs out of the tiny apartment, "And be careful!" He shouted, thought doubted his words were heard over the loud slam.
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Oh man, I'm going to get fired and I haven't even gone through my first day yet! She ran as fast as her legs could go, and that wasn't very fast, considering the ridiculous maid uniform she'd been issued. Thankfully she decided to keep to her Chuck's instead of the uncomfortable pumps that the woman insisted she wear. "I can't believe I took this job," she mumbled between strides, a stitch developing in her side. They were bad off, though, she and Mahad. Finally old enough to leave the orphanage on their own, the two decided it would be better to stick together until both were able to stand on their own two feet. However, Kisara knew it was just because Mahad had a major big brother complex, which was fine with her; he'd always acted like her big brother anyway, why would he stop now?
Domino City was such a huge place, so much different from where they had come from. Sure, Virginia had its cities, but nothing that could be called a metropolis such as this. The buildings towered higher than she could see, and the streets were constantly crowded with people of all shapes and sizes. Food courts and shopping malls dominated most of what she saw, but every-so-often she spotted a game zone or something like that with pictures of monsters in the windows. Duel Monsters, or something like that; she was never really interested. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Once upon a time she was, but then he left, and she stopped caring about them so much.
Rounding a corner, she had to stop. "Damn," she said, realizing she had no idea where she was. Leave it to her to forget where one of the most famous buildings in the entire city was. She traced the window of her cell phone, wondering if she would swallow her pride enough to ask Mahad the directions again. She was about to press the speed dial when she heard a shout, or more like a scream. Down the alley a little in front of her was a child, a little boy or girl with long black hair, running as fast as it could go. Two men were behind him, dressed in dark clothing and sunglasses, wielding knives. Kisara was about to call for help when the child tripped, the men gaining fast.
She didn't wait for anyone.
Reacting before thinking, she tossed her cell as hard as she could at the first man, hitting him square in the face. He stumbled, knocking his partner off-balance long enough for Kisara to reach the kid. It was a boy, at least twelve, with deep indigo eyes full of terror. Reaching out her hand, she shouted, "Come on!" Grasping her hand, Kisara practically lifted the boy and began sprinting into the open. They wouldn't mess with them around a bunch of people.
Well, they wouldn't have, if the two goons hadn't appeared in front of them. Dressed similarly to the ones behind them, who where now coming from behind, the two new guys began closing in, sinister smiles on both of their lips. The one to the right began to speak, "That's far enough, Mokuba. You're ours now."
"Stuff it, loser! When my brother finds out--!"
"Well, we certainly hope he finds out," said one of the guys from behind, "otherwise we'll have no money."
The man with the cell phone indention in his face grabbed Kisara by the arm, twisting savagely, "We don't need this bitch!" He growled, "We can kill her here and now!" She yelped as pain laced up her arm, forcing her to the ground.
Great, she thought, I'm going to die in a maid uniform while this poor kid gets kidnapped.
The boy she barely knew, Mokuba, began hitting the man holding her, "No! Let her go! She's got nothing to do with this--! Hey!" One of them grabbed the boy around the waist, lifting him as he kicked and screamed.
One of the men knelled down and lifted her face with his hand, "Why kill her just now?" He licked his lips, a starved, dangerous look creeping over his face, "Why not have a little fun first?"
A whole new fear took hold of her, and she couldn't stop the "no" that escaped from her lips.
"Yeah," laughed the man holding her, "then we'll kill her." The others joined in, all laughing over Mokuba's shouts and cries. The man lifted her back to her feet and slammed her against the wall, "Check it out, boys! She even wore a sexy maid outfit for us today," he traced his finger down her face, "did you do that just for us?"
His answer was a face full of spit.
"You little whore!" Before she knew it the back of his hand slammed into her face, splitting her lip. She glared at him, determined not to appear any weaker than she already was. The man laughed, "You got a lot of heart, kid," the same hand that had just slapped her began creeping up her leg, "let's see what else you got."
"I don't think so, buddy!" Before Kisara could see who the new voice was, her harasser flew to the left, a green blur leaping after him. There was another grunt, a shout, and another new man standing in the alley. His hair was standing on end, like a brown pyramid, his fists firmly clenched around one of the thug's collars. Mokuba was standing behind him, a girl with brown hair cheering them on. Another one of the thugs went after the guy in the green jacket, who was still on the creep who tried to, well, do things to her. Clenching her teeth, Kisara rammed her body into the on comer, causing him to flip over and land on his back. The wind was knocked clear out of his lungs.
Satisfied that his first target was unconscious, he turned to the final goon, who was creeping out of the alley, "Where do ya think you're goin', huh?" He was about to run after him when Kisara grabbed him around the waist.
"Don't!" She said, the man disappearing from view, "they had knives. If you ran after them, you would've gotten hurt."
"Oh, uh. . ." He was blushing, brown eyes growing soft under a mess of blond hair. He started to scratch the back of his head, a goofish smile on his face, "Aw, I would've been fine, miss! Are uh," he looked more serious now, "are you okay?"
"Joey!" The girl who was standing behind the other guy came running, Mokuba hot on her heels, "Are you alright? What in the world were you thinking?! Didn't you see the knives they had? What if you'd have gotten hurt?! What would I have told Serenity, huh?" She punched him in the arm, "You stupid jerk!"
"Téa, hey! Come on, I'm fine. And what would you have done, huh? They were gonna kill, uh. . ." He laughed again, looking at Kisara, "What was your name again?"
"Huh? Oh!" Snapping out of her thoughts, she realized they were all looking at her.
Mokuba jumped in front of Joey, a concerned look in his eye, "Are you alright, miss? I mean, they didn't hurt you, did they? I'm so sorry; my brother'll add an extra bonus along with an award to your pay."
"M-my pay?" She asked, staring blankly at him. Then she remembered the big KC on her apron, and a light went off in her head, "Kaiba! You're Mokuba Kaiba!"
"You didn't know that? Don't you work for my brother and me at our mansion?"
She shook her head, "No, well, technically I do. I start today--"
"And you just jumped in, not knowing who I was, and saved me?" He smiled warmly, "You're a really nice lady, uh. . .?"
"Kisara," she said, smiling. "So you're my boss, huh? That's convenient, though."
"How come?"
"I, ah," she laughed quietly, "I forgot where your house was."
"Is everyone alright?" The other man joined them now, "The losers ran away; why don't you hang out with us for awhile, Mokuba? Hey!" His eyes quickly darted to Kisara, scanning every inch of her, "Who do we have here?"
"Back off, lover boy!" Téa growled, shoving him away with her hand.
Joey gritted his teeth, "How can you be head over heels for my sister and then go flirt with some girl you don't even know?" He jumped on the guy, "I outta brain you!"
"Joey! Tristan! Oh," Mokuba sighed, "forget it."
Kisara started laughing, "Are they always so energetic?"
"Unfortunately," Téa said, smirking, "hey, Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum! We gotta go meet Yugi and Mr. Moto! We're going to be late!" The two broke off instantly, looking a little ashamed of themselves. Téa rolled her eyes, "Anyway, why don't you two come with us? We're meeting Yugi and his grandpa for lunch. I'm sure after what you two've been through you're hungry."
"Oh, I don't know, I have to get to work--"
"Think of it this way," Mokuba said pointedly, "if you're with me, you are working. Think of yourself as my personal guardian."
"Aw," Joey said, pinching Mokuba's cheeks, "Does the widdle Mokuba need a babysitta?" He and Tristan began laughing hysterically.
"N-no! Shut up!" His face was growing redder and redder by the second.
It reached its peak when Kisara took his arm in hers, "Or you could be my personal escort, seeing since those two are clearly not gentlemen." This time she, Téa, and Mokuba laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, very funny. We're gonna be late, lets go!" Tristan shouted, running a little ahead. They all followed, Téa giving an esaperated sigh as he started to go down the wrong street.
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It was a cute café, an outside McDonald's actually, though she couldn't really enjoy it, dressed the way she was. Kisara, sharing a table of three with Mokuba and Téa, took in the scene as best she could. Of course, the little restaurant was right in front of a huge KaibaCorp. building, as if it was mocking her and her inability to remember directions. She sipped solemnly at her cola, wondering what type of person this Kaiba was. His little brother was an extremely kind young man, and adorable, even though he'd probably hate you if you told him that. She smiled as she watched him eating his french fries, painting a tiny face with his ketchup that resembled who she thought was Joey, another fry sticking out of the painting's nose.
Téa was finishing her salad when Kisara's cheeseburger came out. "Wow," she said, "it's been a while since I've seen a girl order something like that."
"It's a McDonald's," she said, "it's a sin to come here and not get a burger. With the exception of chicken nuggets, of course."
"Of course," Téa laughed, "well, remind me to get one of those next time."
Over at the other table, the boy named Yugi watched Kisara closely. Something about her was, familiar, but what was it? Leaning over, he whispered to Joey, "Have we seen that girl somewhere before?"
"Huh?" He asked, the worlds smothered by the Big Mac in his mouth, "Whoh? Kisarah?"
"Yeah, she's just so. . . I don't know, maybe I'm just loosing it. I mean," he looked down at the millennium puzzle around his neck, "maybe I'm just going crazy."
"You miss him, don't you?" Mr. Moto asked, putting down his drink.
All he got in response was a weak nod.
Quickly changing the subject, Joey said, "You know, now that you mention it, she does look familiar."
"You don't think. . .?"
"Yug, look at her. She looks just like that girl."
"From the dream world? But how is that possible? The spirit of the blue-eyes was locked away in that tablet."
"Tablet?" Mr. Moto asked, quickly coming out of thought, "You know, now that I think about it. About 19 years ago, I got a letter from one of my old archeologist colleauges. Something about an accident at one of the sites and a few stone tablets breaking."
"What?!" They both screamed, surprising, if not choking, the others in the café.
"What, what?" Tristan snapped, taking a gasp of air.
"Nothing, heh heh," Yugi said, "sorry about that." In a lower tone, he asked his grandpa, "Why didn't you say anything, grandpa? That's important!"
"I didn't think it was at the time. Why is it important?"
Joey laughed sheepishly, "Yeah, Yug, I'm a little lost too."
"It's important because the souls of those who represented those monsters are now free to be reborn into the world." He rubbed his chin, "At least, that's what I think it means."
"So why would that make Kisara familiar?" Joey asked, popping a french fry into his mouth.
Yugi stared at Kisara for a moment longer, "Remember that girl in the dream world? The one being stoned to death in the alley?"
"The chick with white hair?"
"Yeah, the one that priest who looked like Kaiba saved. Don't you think Kisara looks a lot like her?"
Joey looked back over at Kisara, "The hair's different, but the face. . . Now that you mention it, she does look a lot like that girl." His trademark goofy grin sprouted on his face, and he started to laugh.
"What's so funny, Joey?" Yugi asked, confused at the sudden outburst.
"Don't you get it? I saved her before Kaiba-boy did! I'm the hero in her story now!" He continued to laugh, while Yugi promptly put his face into his palm.
Mr. Moto just ignored it, "That aside, what do you think this means, Yugi?"
"What does what mean, grandpa?"
"Everything happens for a reason, Yugi. That girl being here is no coincidence. I think it's best we all stay on our toes for now."
As they were contemplating their conversation, Kisara walked over, placing a five-dollar bill on the table, "Um, thank you so much for the lunch, Mr. Moto. I really should be going though--"
He put the five back into her hand, "Why no, my dear, the pleasure was mine. Keep your money; girls eat for free when I'm around."
"Why not grandchildren, grandpa?" Yugi joked, smiling impishly.
"Where are you off to now, Kisara?" Joey asked, leaning back in his chair.
She looked up, "Well, it's not even three yet; I'm supposed to be at 'work'," she sighed, a note of defeat in it, "hopefully I still have a work to go to."
Mokuba appeared behind her, "What are you talking about? You saved me! You'll probably get a promotion as soon as you walk through the door." His face grew concerned again, "You know, you don't have to go to work, if you'd rather go home and rest. It's been a pretty harsh day--"
"No, no. I'm afraid the home would be over due on rent if I didn't go to work!" She laughed at her own joke, but no one else joined in.
"Well, then, I guess I could call a driver to come pick us up. It's not that safe to walk home now, anyway."
Waiting for the car Mokuba had called, Kisara decided to take in more of the city, or at least what she could see around her. It was really a beautiful place, if a little redundant in color. Most of the buildings were either white or gray, the only thing really catching her eye were the bright red and yellow at the top of the Kaiba Corp. building. She wondered why it was like that, as if there was some unspoken need to be noticed. This guy must have one hell of an ego. . . She didn't want to cast to many earily judgements, though; if she could go by anything, Mokuba being such a sweet kid had to mean that his brother was an okay guy. Right?
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The house was huge. Bigger than any home had the right to be, or maybe she was just a little bitter since the biggest thing she'd ever lived in was an old high school building turned into an orphanage. Either way, it was an extremely beautiful house, or mansion, whatever it was. Painted white, it had to have been around since at least the 1940's, with beautifully carved columns holding up an archway reminiscent of an entrance to an ancient Greek palace. She stopped counting the windows at thirty-five, and prayed that the window number was not equal to the amount of rooms; cleaning all that would take months, if not years. A lush, vast garden stretched out before the house, giving those coming to the door a sense of calm serenity, if that could even be used as an adjective to describe it. However, it lost some of its loveliness to the massive gate that surrounded the property. Giant metal bars sprouted from the ground as if someone had planted a prison and the buds didn't grow to maturity.
It was getting late, almost nightfall, Kisara noticed as she walked down the small stone path to the door. Mokuba just acted as normal, apparently used to living in such luxury. He stopped here and there to show her a few flowers that he had planted himself, or a small tomato garden he and another servant girl were raising together. He regarded each with such a warm, compassionate smile that Kisara couldn't help but laugh, it was to much. Blushing slightly, he asked, "What's so funny?"
"Hm? Oh, nothing," she said, "you're just so cute, kid." She said, teasingly. She ruffled his hair, causing him to blush even more.
"W-we better get inside. I'm sure Seto's having a fit by now." Smoothing down his hair as best as he could, Mokuba quickened his pace, avoiding eye-contact whenever possible.
The doors came open easier than Kisara had expected, revealing a beautiful crystal, tile floor that practically glittered in the twilight. A spacious rug was set at the doorway, plush and soft on the feet, a deep crimson color absorbing the light (and any dirt) that would touch it. A stairway splitting into two and connecting once more at the upper level stood in the middle of the room, a lovely chandelier hanging gracefully from the ceiling. Paintings and sculptures by countless artists hung on the walls and stood on pedestals, along with a few pots of white and, amazingly, blue roses.
She went to touch one of the blue flowers when a deep, raspy voice echoed down the stairwell, "Mokuba?! Where have you been? I thought'd you'd been--"
"Kidnapped?" Mokuba laughed, scratching the back of his head, "Yeah, um, about that--"
Kisara turned to see a tall, brown-haired man embrace the boy. Apparently he hadn't noticed her, or he was in such a worried state that he didn't care. Breaking his embrace, the man seemed to scan every inch of Mokuba, his eyes reminiscent of a mother's trying to find her son's latest scab, "How did you get away? I got a call from some creep and. . .!" He held him again, "From now on, tell me where you plan on going! If you want to ditch your guards so badly, just come home and I'll go with you."
Mokuba laughed, "No you wouldn't, Seto."
Kisara smiled, So he's Seto Kaiba. Looking at the man now, she couldn't see the so-called coldhearted duelist who mercilessly crushed his enemies in the playing field and in business. He was even younger than she had pictured him; no more than at least twenty. She watched as the two brothers play fought back and forth, wondering if she should go find something to clean, when Mokuba pointed and said, "--she just jumped in and saved me, Seto. You should've seen it! She nailed that guy right in the nose with her cell phone!"
As soon as he looked up, deep blue eyes locked onto hers. She felt the breath rush clean out of her, as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Memories came flying back, like someone had just tossed a handful of Polaroids at her. The one most prominent was of her, standing at the end of the road, crying as her first friend disappeared from her life, forever. No, she thought, blinking, he can't be. . . can he?
"You . . .!" Seto froze, unable to believe his eyes. It's her! The girl with white hair and blue eyes stared back at him in his mind, the girl from the visions! But, how?
