To Where the Boatman Rows

Seto's Pov

Another high society party. I hated them. My financial advisors, amongst themselves had spoken of me, having the nerve to criticize the way I managed myself and took care of my business affairs. Their place in my business made them feel powerful, but in reality they were nothing more than show for the companies and CEO's that I conducted business with. It seemed that they had been concerned about my lack of business ties along with the manner in which I dealt with the press (or didn't deal with the press to be more specific), and I had figured that setting up a little publicity stunt with the ancient bags of money and bitterness in this city, would me some peace or at least shut them up long enough for me to think. They supplied my guest list (of 355 persons) and invitations, and I stood at my homes main entrance shaking hands and greeting with an icy gaze, one I had perfected over the years. My well structured and pricey suit fitting me perfectly, intimidating those who came to speak with me in hopes of fortune and business. My eyes glanced to Mokuba now and then (I'd told him to keep clear of the paparazzi) just to make sure he followed instructions, the paparazzi were notorious for spinning even the most innocent of words around you see.

From the main entrance guests pooled into either the main room or the back hall lounge area, for organization and privacy reasons of course. I disliked the idea of people in my home, and I would make sure that I was a guest as opposed to a host the next time something like this should occur. The old guests sat around dying and stumbling over words about business and ugliness and greed, eying as lions the young women on their arms. Sickening. The younger versions of old money, yes those pesky bratty teens and children who were given it all, that lacked in manners and grace panted over one another in the back hall lounge. It was the likes of that specific group that made me feel ten times older. I stood there dying for a moment alone.

"Kaiba! How does it feel to be Japan's youngest self made millionaire?" The paparazzi questioned and sighed at their presence. My advisors and planners had neglected to tell me of their presence. "Seto, tell us about your life as a young rich bachelor!"

"It's Kaiba." I replied bluntly. The nerve of them to refer to me so casually, Seto is reserved to Mokuba only. I ignored their questions and simply stated some up and coming business features and projects. I had been working on some new software that would improve the quality of my holograms in my free time. My eye then caught from the back of the crowd, a set of light green eyes plastered with heavy black shadow that had been burning holes into my face as I spoke. I had not greeted her on the way in, so many guests, but of this I was sure. She was weightless in a lace back dress, a mess of hair pinned up, heavy smoking eyes, and heels to high to keep her below my 6 ft 1 build. She gave me a half smile and disappeared into the main room.

"Will these holograms utilize blu-ray technology?" the paparazzi delved into me hungrily.

It wasn't often I gave them anything to work with. I kept to myself and preferred it that way. I answered them for a good 20 min and declared the session finished. I was simply not in the mood for anymore photos or made-up, politically correct, censored answers to what would become a useless newspaper article in a digital age. I walk away and had them leave my home as I went to mingle lightly with the other corporate heads whose industry was centered around electronics, only to improve my standings of course. I have more than a few enemies, some actual threats, and a few jealous snapping dogs at my feet most of which shook my hand with a grin that only money can produce. Ah the flattery of a corporate world.

I entered the main hall and there she was again, the mysterious woman, beautiful in her own ugly little way. She was on her own until a man about my age approached her with a drink and a grin. Her slight nearly androgynous, curve less, and delicately pale figure fidgeted in her seat before she looked up with an icy smirk across her lips and held out her black lace gloved hand palm first to reject his offer. The man was just another sleazy high society frat boy, with a perfect smile, a familiar sight amongst these little functions. The rich raising their distracted, stupid children to be entitled to anything in their sights.

"I don't believe I've seen you around Domino," he said making his first move, and leaning slightly towards him. She just stared at him. "The name's Hideki," introducing himself and bringing a hand to her pointed , silk and lace covered shoulder. I couldn't seem to look away from her, she stuck out so obviously in her unusual appearance and composure, dressed for a couture funeral of sorts among the plain and glamorous. She looked at Hideki's hand, her eyes were steady and burning as she stared at the unwelcome lump of flesh upon her. "If you're interested I could show you around town, perhaps?" He asked her as he flashed a smile, and ugly little glint in his eye.

"I'd eat your heart out boy," she smirked removing his hand and motioning for him to leave her to with a flick of her dainty wrists. Left her he did, shocked and insulted as he returned to the back hall lounge to pick up another victim for his charms.

I began to approach her curiously, shoulders back, face unmoved, and steps strong. She surely didn't belong in my home and I knew I'd never seen her before. It was then that the man I hired to check the guest list at the gate approached her first and I stopped. He held out the clipboard kept names "Excuse me ma'am I'll have to ask you to leave, you aren't on the list."

She pulled a pen from his pocket signed her name across the page , and stood turning on a spiked heel from his direction and towards the front door.

Laila Valto

She walked away with an exaggerated walk (like a model) and I pondered how an intruder would make it past my security. Something I would make sure would not happen again, after all it's a privilege to work for me and I expect the best. I snapped away from these thoughts, eyes were on me tonight and a mind should never wander.

I straightened myself up, refilled the ice in my eyes and continued on towards my original destination, I was a man of business and she was just an intruder, but still my thoughts lingered as I crossed the room to the table of sharks and smut that tossed around their ideas and business cards with cold eyes and liver spotted hands. Mokuba just paced around nervously, uncomfortable in his suit while shriveled old women fawned over him a few tables over. A boy his age wasn't interested in anything of this sort, but what could I do? I'd make it up to him another time perhaps, he understood by now that we can't always have things exactly as we please, and that Kaiba corp. was important in keeping our lives the way they were.

Hours had passed and the last of the guests had left, I trudged through my huge and nearly empty home, in its untidy state (thanks to the piggish manner of people who felt it was alright to leave anything where they so pleased) to the stairs that I climbed carefully as I removed my designer jacket and steel blue tie on the way up the elegant staircase. I stepped quietly down the hall, passing Mokuba's room along the way. I peeked in to make sure he had gone to bed, his messy hair on his pillow confirming his rest and safety. I made it to my room at the end of the hall, and I set my alarm for school the next day (at 18 I was still managing my last year of high school along with my business, a grueling task I might add), slipped off my shoes and fell into bed. The blues and white of the room lay in shadows that swiftly caressed my body into dreams.