Note: There it goes, the first true chapter. Perhaps a warning about the changes made to the original story:

Kaiba inherited the company at the age of 17 and a bit, while most of the storyline happens when he's 20 or more. Ages of other characters were also changed, I'll warn about it when they appear.

Presence of original character changes some of the story, but not yet in this chapter.

Disclaimer was posted in the prologue. If you're still interested, go there read it. I only own my original characters, Jade and Laria.

Things you may want to know: MajorOOCness, mild language, drugs.

Jade

I was only seventeen,

I fell in love with a gypsy queen

She told me – hold on!

Uriah Heep – Gypsy

It wasn't entirely true. Jade was no gypsy queen, but he came to think of her this way. Jade was a mistake. But he was seventeen, and when will one make mistakes if not then?

She was a hired escort. He just didn't want any slutty schoolmate or, as a matter of fact, any girl he'd be truly acquainted with to be his date when he needed one for the formal occasions where one is just expected to appear with a girl, even if it was his mother. So he hired them, different one every time, to avoid getting any to know too well or even grow fond of. But Jade was a bit different to the others. For one thing, she was smart; unlearned, but intelligent. Then, she was pretty in a gentle doll-like way, with long pearly blonde hair, porcelain skin and bright indigo eyes. She wasn't the type of woman that would catch his eye instantly, she looked too fragile for his tastes, but she quickly inproved the first impression. Their first evening, they talked of mathemathics in computer science and she seemed to love every piece of knowledge he could give, and he felt flattered by her desire to know, and to know it from him personally.

"How come you never investigated such things?" he asked. "You have the internet, you have the books, knowledge is not a privilege any more."

She smiled, but only with her mouth. Her eyes remained cool, perhaps a little sad. "I don't have time," she said gently. "I have up to five dates a day. The remaining time, I sleep."

He looked at her incredoulously. "Up to five dates? I mean, most of the parties are in the evenings. You can't have more than one each day."

"I am good and so I am busy," she said stoically. "During the day, I have breakfasts, then lunches, then afternoon walks, then dinners and balls. I have one day off every week. I don't think that's too much work, since I don't do anything but look pretty most of the time."

He shook his head then and started talking of something less important. But in that precise moment, he knew he was going to drag her out of her line of work, make her do something good for her intelect. It wasn't truly a conscious decision; later he thought of that moment as the one when his feelings toward her changed and his crush on her started. Now, he couldn't say he ever loved her, but it was a crush all right.

He hired her another time, and then the third. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but the woman's simple desire to listen to his words was getting to him. He could tell her anything, from bussiness trouble to the new designs he was preparing, and she would listen, ask sensible questions and memorize pretty nearly everything for the next time he mentioned it. She didn't giggle, didn't ask personal questions, didn't try to get him into the bed (at least, not too hard), didn't drink and didn't try to drag him to some club of negotiable reputation, as many of her colleagues did. Then, the fourth time they sat at the dinner table together, she finally dared to ask,

"Mr. Kaiba … you asked me to be your date for the fourth time now, and you never before asked for any escort by name. Do … do you have some special … fancy for me?"

He had to smile. For a woman whose main occupation was shortening the time of anyone who payed for it, she was so shy. He asked himself the same question many times, and, unpleasant as it was, he had to say that he did.

"I like you, Jade. Very much, in fact."

There. It was said, and so gained much credibility even to his mind. She blushed, and it was perhaps the only time he remembered her looking truly happy. He offered her an arm and escorted her to the balcony, where it was at least a little more private, though he knew they'll be followed by at least one paparazzi, and they kissed in silence, only touching by hands and lips. People somehow drifted away and he felt warmly embraced by her presence. It felt so good, so gentle, so fragile, and yet so ... eternal. He didn't want the moment ever to pass. It did, of course, and they returned to the dinning room to shoo away a few journalists, and then to slip away into the night. He felt like in a different world, where everything was soft and fuzzy, and Jade was for those hours the queen of this world, created just for them. They went somewhere else, he's never been there before, but he liked the place, and he liked the taste of exotic beer they served. It was the first and the only time he ever failed to remember what was going on after some point in the evening, but one thing cleared out later.

Outside the bar, when they were leaving, both of them happily drunk and very eager to get to bed, there was a bunch of kids, drinking and smoking and littering the street. He remembered that Jade forgot something behind, so he had to stand there with the kids for some minutes, and during this time, he noticed a trio that somewhat didn't look too indulged in the party. There were two girls and a boy, he estimated them all to be about sixteen, one of the girls perhaps even older. The other two must have been brother and sister, since they both had the same big hazelnut eyes, fair hair and sickly pale skin. The older-looking girl was completely different, her skin golden, her eyes as black as eyes ever get, her black hair a complete mess down to her shoulders. She seemed to originate somewhere from the Middle East. She was staring at him as though she was trying to remember something, or perhaps recognize him. She did seem familiar to him. He once knew a girl with same dark skin and eyes and messy hair.

She was sitting in front of him then, a big golden and black mess, the high-pitched voice telling him, "Go on, Seto, make you move already!"

He stared at his cards, then picked one and put it down. She looked at him, then at the card, then said a little miserably, "Oh. You win again." She didn't cry or anything. Even then, she was hard to be put down. She would have challenged him again that same moment, and again, until she discovered what made him better, so she would be able to deal with it, but ...

"Come on, honey. We're leaving." A voice with a heavy accent, followed by a woman in early thirties, fair, slim and beautifully curved, nothing like her dauther at all, with a tensed face, revealing things that children weren't meant to know. The girl pretested weakly, "But, mum, I have to learn to win!", and was taken away without another word, never to return again.

He was a little sad then – she was ugly like a sin, fat and messy all over, and three years younger than him, but smart, and when she was visiting, he got to play finally, because her mother always brought her when she came to visit his step-father, and the little girl needed someone to entertain her during this time. She was too smart and impatient for Mokuba, so she played with him. She was good in Duel monsters – at least, as good as a seven-year-old could be. He was ten then, and could outplay her easily enough, but she was trying so hard, and if given enough time, she would have learned to win.

That girl truly had very similar features to the one that was staring at him across the street, although she was now tall and slim and her hair was way shorter. Now, she was coming across the street, and close up he was suddenly certain that the child he remembered and the girl in front of him now were the very same person.

"Laria?" he ventured carefully.

"Seto," she said in confirmation. "Or, perhaps I should call you mister Kaiba now." She looked at him intently, and it struck him that she must be only fourteen years old, but she looked his age or even older.

"I don't have much time right now," she continued suddenly. "I must just warn you – the woman you are with, she'll make your life a living hell someday. I'm glad we met after all this time, Kaiba. Perhaps you'll want to contact me one day." She handed him an email adress, scribbled on a backside of a bill, then left. He couldn't quite fathom what happened – he was way too drunk for such a complex thought process. Jade returned and they went to his appartement and his memory served him no more.

The next day, he woke up next to her, and he knew he won't be too happy to admit that he lost his virginity while too drunk to remember it. But it was only a matter of pride – Jade was an exelent lover, as he came to discover quite soon after. It took him days to find the folded bill in his pocket, and remember the warning. He chose not to believe it, since Jade was an image of a perfect woman then, but he still secured the adress in his computer, then calmly forgot about it.

He urged Jade to leave her job, to begin studying, but she refused. She did lower the amount of her work, though, so she was nearly always home when he came, and she was waiting. He felt he had no reason to worry about the other customers, she was just too loving for him to doubt her. But he never thought that she didn't have such trust in her.

"Where have you been?" Jade asked when he came home a few days later.

He looked at her with some surprise, then said, "Working. I, too, have a lot to do sometimes. It wasn't even a too late a day."

She seemed to accept the explanation then, but he could see she wasn't satisfied. He could do nothing then, nor ever. She was simply possesive and jealous. It only took him about a month to discover what Laria's warning was about, but something about the woman made him forgive her again and again, even when he wanted to throw something heavy at her just to shut her up. Then, time came when he wasn't bothering to forgive her any more, when he just allowed her to shout everything out, then hugged her and told her that she's a stupid bitch, but he likes her still. As some more time came past, he didn't even hug her anymore. Then, he started practicing cold stares on her and only a little later, his hearth was finally clean of any warmth for her. One can't lead a relationship with someone as jealous as she was, when he never truly did anything wrong.

"Jade, I just don't understand you," he said gently one day when he felt there was some chance that she'll hear him out since it was his day off and he had nowhere to go to arouse her suspicions.

"Can't you just trust me, the way lovers are supposed to? I mean, you can't control my life, as I can't control yours. You can do nothing but believe that I'd never be unfaithful and we'd both have a happier life."

She snorted. "Trust is for naïve people. I need to know things."

After that, he swore to himself he'd never be such a jerk not to trust someone he was trying to live with.

He contacted Laria then, asked her to meet him where they met on that drunken night – he couldn't believe it was nearly two years ago. She'd be sixteen now, going on seventeen, no longer a child, but a young woman.

He waited for her at the entrance, uncomfortably noticing that the place changed a well, and for worse. It was no longer a pleasant place selling good beer, but hardly a place to get drunk, get a whore and dissapear into the night, possibly never to return. He was already intending to find himself a taxy and go home, although it wasn't late yet, but he felt unpleasantly exposed there. He waved a hand at a taxy and started walking across the street, when she happened to him, namely, bumping in him so hard that she fell to the ground.

"Sorry, are you all right?"

He mumbled something in response, trying to discover what made the woman so familiar to him. She was very pretty, with slightly Arabic look – dark skin, dark eyes, powerfull eyebrows. Her hair was cut – or perhaps hacked – short, but it was still the messiest hair in living memory. He couldn't believe such a hair could happen twice.

"Laria?"

She stood up, surprisingly tall, even taller that two years ago, and looked into his eyes. Later he discovered that it was the unique occasion of seeing her picking herself up, not finding himself on the floor with her arm across the neck. She had instincts of a vulture.

"Seto," she responded. "No, really, what demon made you set a meeting in these parts? Are you aware that club has a nail in it for people like you? Thank god you at least aren't all dressed up. Come."

Yes, it was Laria all right. It wasn't just the hair, it was her quick mind and the attitude that once met respect and beat it down bruttaly. And she left him absolutely no choice. If he hadn't followed, the club would have probably grown an actual nail and tear him apart. If he was lucky.

She was obvously enough a leader of a gang of four young women, each of which seemed to keep at least one piece of weaponry on them, and certainly knew their way around. They led him to a something like a park in the middle of downtown, where they settled down, brought out some bottles of liquor and began a party of their own, ignoring him completely. Laria didn't join them. She stayed with him, talked of small, seemingly unimportant things, making him feel welcome in the process. He barely listened to most things she said, just nodded and agreed from time to time, even when she perfectly casually stated that she sometimes sells drugs to get through the month, or how she beat a local bully that killed an armed policeman few days before. It just didn't seem to matter; her presence was strangely comforting, and from what he heard, he thought her a sensible, if chaotic and unpredictable person with a few truly strange traits. But sense, reason, calmness, that was what he desired from her, and she gave it away aplenty.

She waited until she was sure that none of her companions will notice anything, then touched his arm and took him away. Whatever she was planning, it wasn't dangerous to him, he just knew it. It wasn't an instinct, he would never trust an instinct, it was knowledge. She was a safe person to be around.

They stopped under the tree some hundred meters away from her friends, and then she said, "You know, I recognised you first."

He had to laugh at that. Even as kids, they were always competing, and her words were like some monument to that time. She smiled as well.

"It took you a long time to break free from that bitch," she said. "She has it in her, to make people forgive her for unreasonable amounts of time."

"You know her?"

"We played together as kids. She's a lot older than me, of course, but she had them Barbie dolls and I did not, so if I wanted to play with them, I had to put up with her. The problem was, she was smarter in some ways, like mathemathics, but she always lacked the common sense. I was more sensible when I was five than she is now. Such people are bound to make life a torture. Guess that's why I started playing with guns." She smiled, but he wasn't sure it was a joke. She certainly knew how to use a gun, even if half her stories weren't true.

He rather concentrated on her manner of speaking, slow and measured, with a hint of an accent – could be French, especially regarding her surname, Rouge, but it was so illusive he couldn't be sure. It was in quite a contrast to her behaviour, which was fast and reckless. She didn't seem to be able to be at peace for more than a minute – right now, she was collecting a number of items from her pockets and handbag.

"Hold this," she said, handing him a folded piece of paper. He opened it uncertainly, but it was blank, and before he could ask for an explanation, she was already pouring some finely crushed substance into the folding.

"Try not to lose any," she said, while rolling a small rectangle of thick paper into a neat, not too tight roll. He thoughtfully smelled the air, suddenly filled with strange aroma that inrevocably brought an image of something immense and green into his mind.

"What are you doing?" he asked. By now, she had produced another rectangle of paper, this time of a really thin one, and was balancing the pre-made roll at the edge.

She looked at him incredolously. "You are an innocent child, truly you are," she said. "Nineteen years old and never smelled it. I'm rolling myself a joint, you know. Remember the smell – it's really good stuff and nobody should go through the life not knowing what a good marihuana smells like. Heaven must smell something like this. Oh, and you don't need to stare at me like that, I'm not going to become some lunatic or something, I'll just relax and look at things from a new perspective."

She carefully took the folded paper from his hands and poured the stuff on the rolling paper, then masterfully rolled it all up and lit it immediately. He was staring at her in something like a shock. Perhaps he should have listened to her chatter more carefully to avoid it, but now, it was like a splash of cold water. Wleecome to the other world, Seto Kaiba, the world where you don't need to worry about the reporters if you smoke illegal substances in the street. What was it that she said earlier? He was certain that she spoke about drugs, and he nodded and agreed, because it seemed sensible.

You know, I like to see the life slightly distorted. It just makes it seem nicer. But then again, sharp sight is the one thing that will take you through. I guess that's not what that step-father of yours taught you.

"I … just wanted to have a normal conversation for once," he said thoughtfully.

"For that, you chose a wrong person to talk to," she answered pleasantly. "I'm not normal. I'm a computer geek, a hacker even, an indominable seductress, a drug dealer if it comes to it, an irresponsible adopted sister, a fighter feared by street bullies. One thing that I'm not, I'm not acquinted with the police, and I'm not some regular girl. But I can listen to you now, and perhaps the world will seem nicer then."

He didn't know what to do. He pictured her as a child and as that grown-up fourteen-year-old, but the young woman before him, covered in smoke, was someone he never anticipated. He wasn't certain he should trust her – he normally wouldn't. But she carried that aura of safety, and it was easy to give in. He told her everything that pained him about Jade, about her degrading jealousy, distrust, and bark-like voice when she yelled at him, down to the last bit, and all Laria did was smoke and listen. He was so engulfed into the story that he nearly failed to notice one of the other girls that came over to them, her walk slightly uncertain, her eyes misted by alcohol, but with a determined expression.

"Laria." Her voice cut right through him. He looked at her, the displeasing interruption to the spilling of his guts, and he vaguely remebered the pale skin, hazelnut eyes and fair hair. That must be Laria's adopted sister. There was a certain similarity to their mimic and manner of speaking, he noted. Slow and measured, that was the way. Women in control of things, that's what they were, even when anything but sobre.

"What is it?" Laria sounded worried suddenly, the stupid drug-induced smile gone from her face, her eyes instantly clearing.

"Laria … Theo called. He said it is time."

Laria closed her eyes. For a moment, he thought that she would cry, but when she reopened them, they were just as reddish and dry as before.

"So, we must go." She turned to him and offered him the still burning joint. "I'm really sorry," she said gently. "This happened at least convenient moment. I cannot listen you out. I can only offer what little consolence marihuana gives. You'll cough, nearly everyone does the first time, and your lungs will burn, but then, your worries will have hard time returning. You'll go home, and your bitches' barking won't trouble you anymore. Soon, we'll meet again, and we'll talk, we'll have a duel, and life will turn to the bright side once more." She sounded solemn, nearly ceremonial. He couldn't refuse her. He never could refuse what she offered this way, as if she clicked something over in his brain to make him do it. He dragged on the burning smoke, and he coughed, and his lungs burned, and his head spun. He found himself thinking, What, that's it, just a little pain and no effect, but he nearly failed to notice as Laria took the roll off him and extinguished it.

"I'll escort you to the main road. Mary, meet me at the corner, you know where, in three minutes. We must hurry."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him with her. "I'm really really sorry, Seto," she said softly. "I … didn't think it is going to happen so soon ..."

"What happened?" He battled the words out of his mouth. Tongue just seemed to dislike the idea of moving.

"Mary's father, my father, is dying." No emotion in her words. No forced calmness. Just … emptiness. Blank screen where a full movie of pain should have been.

"I'm sorry." He couldn't think of anything better to say.

She shrugged. "I won't miss him much, so don't be."

He thought about it. "Was it illness?"

She lifted her eyebrows, looking nearly surprised. "You could say that, yes. He was ill, very ill. I could even be happy for him, that his suffering is over."

"I wish I could do something for you."

"You can't." She sighed. They were silent for long moments. His body felt confusing, he nearly forgot where he was or what was going on, just focusing on the sensations within him, and then caught himself and tried to shake it off. It just wasn't natural, to be so indulged with himself. Laria chuckled next to him, finally pulling him back to time.

"Don't fight it. I know how you're feeling, and I know it's damn easy to shake off if you work on it, and it won't come back any more. You've a forty or fifty minute ride with a taxy from here to your place, so take this time and enjoy it." He shook his head, unprepared to believe her. Then, they arrived at the main road and she stopped, turned to him, and said softly:

"Or … perhaps you can do something for me." And she embraced him.

It was a bit of a shock. It had been a long time since he'd been last embraced with full human warmth. Jade just didn't do that, she was never much for touching, and he appreciated that, but Laria didn't know anything about it, and when she hugged him, it was like a tidal wave of softness, fuzziness, warmth. He instinctively wrapped his arms aroud her and held her close, trying to remember how comforting goes, but failing, and she let him go after a few moments.

"I'm happy you've chosen to trust me, Seto," she said, still in that soft, controlled voi ce. "Few people ever do. Perhaps it's the environment where I grew … but it doesn't change a thing. We'll meet again soon, I hope, and we'll talk, we'll have a duel – I've practiced quite a bit since that last time, you know – and life will turn nicer for both of us. There's one taxy. I must go now. See ya."

She turned and took off running. He watched her go, watched her beautifully controled, quick movements as she ran, until she turned a corner and dissapeared from sight, and he wondered what he's gotten himself into.

He got home with his head still slightly spinning. He checked his reflection in the mirror in the hall – he looked nearly completely normal, with the exception of the eyes, which were brilliantly white and shiny black, pupils wide and mad. He was under the influence of any substance, legal or not, for the first time in a very long time, and he had to admit that it didn't feel bad. The reality was curling gently around him, his senses aware of things he never noticed before. Air against his hands, sweat at the finger tips, taste of saliva in his mouth. But he had to shake it off now, for he shouldn't appear anything but his cold self when he faced Jade. He closed his eyes and searched for the sense of crude reality that he knew was somewhere in there, and he found it way more easily than he expected. He couldn't do anything about the eyes, however; he could only hope that she wouldn't notice.

He slipped through the door of the darkened living room.

"So, you're home," said Jade. She rose form the sofa and came to face him, but at a distance. She still didn't trust herself to stay angry if she allowed him to embrace her.

"What excuse have you come up with this time? Work, bussiness dinner where partners are not welcome, or did you just go to drink yourself senseless?"

He smiled, small self-possesed smile that will make her even angrier. "You know, you're actually right to ask. For the first time since we're together, I went out to meet another woman, and to indulge in some not quite legal substances." He turned towards the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, suddenly aware of dryness in his mouth.

"Another woman?! How dare you! And you even tell me about it!" she screamed. She never heard the part that came after another woman involved. She flew towards him with fists lifted, obviously prepared to beat him up. He deflected the strike with single hand and took hold of her wrists.

"Let go!"

"I will not," he said quietly. "You need to behave, Jade. I've given up on you some time ago, I know you'll never be sensible. But I came here and told what I did, the way I would have even if you didn't ask. The woman I met was my childhood friend and she still is. There's nothing else between us. But you're so unsure of yourself and so certain that I'm cheating on you, you'll never believe what I say. Now, I'll let you go. You'll never attempt to strike me again, and you'll behave as a woman of your age is supposed to."

He released her. She stepped away, looking at him accusingly. "Who was she, then, mr. I-trust-you? Do I know her?"

He smiled again. "Yes, actually, you do know her. The name is Laria Rouge. She said you played with her as a kid."

Jade looked at him open-mouthedly. "You went out with Laria Rouge? Are you out of your mind? She's nothing but a street rat, she was even when I knew her! Both her parents were addicts, and she's no better that them! What did she do, sold you some crack or perhaps sold you herself? Oh, you should have seen her with those cards of hers, all the cruelty with which she beats people to dust! She makes them believe they can't lose any more, and then she laughs at them as she defeats them and humiliates them! She's a devil in the human form, you idiot! How can't you see it?"

He shrugged. "I've heard she's good, yes. Anyway, I'm better, so no worries. She a good conversationalist, and she is trustworthy, which is more than you'll ever be, my dear. Now, I think this topic is concluded. I'll go to sleep, if you don't mind."

She couldn't do a thing. She was yelping at him constantly, until they lay down, and then a little more, but she couldn't change a thing, not even herself.

He met Laria again soon. He asked her about her father, how were they without one parent, but she didn't want to talk about it. She seemed fine, happy and calm, the way he trusted her to be after another few times they met. He quickly found that he treasured the moments with her. Her messy hair, her wild eyes, her profane way of dealing with world. She was pretty that night when he met her again, and grew beautiful during the years after that. He couldn't quite fathom what made him feel safe about her, however. She had always been a chaotic person, unpredictable to the bottom, and had that habit of dealing with trouble phisically. You couldn't beat it up, you slept with it, or vice versa. Sometimes, it also helped to hack into their computer and made it go all wrong, but that wasn't as much fun, because she couldn't see the owner's face when it happened. Or, if the trouble was very persistent, you challenged it to a duel, and made it bite the dust, for she was unofficially the best. That is, she never in her life attended a tournament, but she sought the champions out and defeated them. They played often enough, and he found he was hardly her equal, winning every other duel or so. She made him try harder, for he wasn't going to be the second to some girl, three years younger than he was, that had never participated in a tournament. She didn't care about being the best or anything – her only goal was to push the face of the opponent into the dust, and laugh at him. She pushed Kaiba to be better than she was, because she was the best in a way that even world champions couldn't deal with. Later, when he returned from Duelist Kingdom, he felt somewhat sorry that she hadn't been there with him, because he would just love to see the look on Pegagus' face if he ever tried to read her mind. There must have been a nest of pervert memories, seductive thougths (she was always thinking about ways of seducing the person right next to her, he found it quite stressing at times) and cynical comments, armed with diamond-hard will and determination to crush mountains. Hell, it would be mortally dangerous to try to extract her current strategy out of everything. She always seemed to win by sheer chance, and it took him years to learn better. He was the best, and she was just a high-school student with a bit of luck. Probably, at least.

He became world champion somewhere then, but he still couldn't beat her more than once in a row. Whatever he tried, she always got around it the next time they played. Sometimes, it felt like a living hell to be around her, but not the living hell Jade put him through, but a more innocent kind. Laria never meant anything bad to happen to anyone. She was just … good of heart. Evil, cynical, tough survivalist, but way too smiling to be bad. When she wasn't smiling, she was laughing, grinning, or looking amused. He just liked her company. She made him feel safe, even when he was down on his face at the brink of tears because of the humiliating defeat she just brought upon him. For the safety she provided, he could allow himself to be open around her, but it also made him build high walls around himself when he wasn't. He couldn't let people glimpse the fact that he wasn't so cleanly the best as he wanted to be. Laria was there, and although he knew he'd miss her sorely if she ever left, he also wanted her to be gone, so that he could be the best in peace.

He forever regreted the day that he finaly won three duels in a row against her, calling her a fool in the fashion he acquired by then. She didn't respond immedately. She looked into his eyes, she truly looked at him, and she said:

"Well, I guess that's it."

Then, she collected her cards, left without a word, and he didn't hear from her for many months. It was one of what she called 'drastic measures'. She had to show him he had hurt her deeply, and he felt sorry nearly instantly after he had said it, but it was no use. It was the fourth way of dealing with trouble. You couldn't beat it up, you couldn't sleep with it, you couldn't defeat it in a duel, so you left it alone, and you meant it.

When she was gone, he finaly decided that his relationship with Jade must end, and soon. Without Laria to sustain his feelings, Jade became completely intolerable. But then, Duellist Kingdom Tournament pulled near and the newspapers went in a buzz. Will he attend, will he show the world once and for all who was the best? Fancy dinners were up, many in a row, so many in fact that Jade forgot to be bitchy, because she was saving the strenght for the smiling photos. And at one of those events, his phone started vibrating like mad. He had the strenght of vibration set regarding the person calling, so he knew it was Roland, and he knew it was extremely urgent, because Roland was strictly forbidden from interrupting such events.

"Yes, Roland, what is it?"

"Sir … there's some woman asking about you. She seems to know some things about you, and she won't go away until I tell her where you are."

"Oh? What does she know about me?"

"She says," Roland lowered his voice, "that you lost many duel to her once. She says she warned you once, and that you should take the consequences now, or she can just beat you bitch – excuse me for quoting - up for you. I don't think she would be actually able to do this, sir, since she in a pretty bad shape here. She also wouldn't go to the doctor until you come."

"And I believe she didn't leave her name."

"No, sir, she didn't."

He thought about it. It could be Laria, regarding the beating-up idea, but he couldn't be sure, regarding the 'bad shape'. Laria was never sick or harmed that he would know about, even though she lead a pretty ugly lifestyle. There was a way to find out without going there, however. He remembered her being pretty good at getting where she wanted, especially if it included anything electronic with an USB connection on it.

"Tell her to go to my appartment. If she can get in, I guess she can wait for me there."

He could feel Roland surprise trough the line, but the answer was simple "Yes, sir. I will, sir."

"What was that about?" asked Jade.

"It seems that a very dear friend of mine has returned. She's been gone for nearly a year, you never met her, and I wouldn't want you to. She can be nasty to bitches like you."

"A friend, huh?" She looked at him with full hatred she felt for anyone he ever dared to spare a word for. "And you just sent her to our appartment? I would't call that a friend, dear."

"Believe what you want. You'll never believe me, especially since I think this is our last dinner together. There's someone out there that takes my stares better than you do." It felt good to say this. Suddenly, he felt no need for her presence any more. Laria was probably back. She would amuse him from then on. It felt even better when Jade's eyes widened, her whole body stiffened, and then she screamed.

"I hate you, Seto Kaiba!! I hate you and that bitch of yours!! You will be sorry to let go of me!! I'll never leave you alone, you'll see, I'll make ..."

He thouth better of slapping her in front of everyone. "I bet you will. Now, pull yourself together, repair your makeup, and let's eat." She stormed away, and he didn't believe he'll see her again soon. He only had to deal with the newspapers, and that could wait at least for an hour, till the end of the dinner.

He felt nervous when he neared his appartment at the top of Kaiba Corp HQ, the bitch now following him like an angry little puppy, and just as helpless. He wanted the unknown woman on the other side of the door to be Laria, and yet he didn't want her to be. If she truly came back, it would mean he would have to erase whole ten months of his life, but then again, that wouldn't be so bad. Or would it …?

The door was open, so she was certainly in. He turned the lights on, and there she was, stretched across his white leather sofa, and bloody all over. He stared in disbelief. It couldn't be Laria. He once saw her beat three guys at once, the smallest of which was twice her size, and remain unharmed, while the woman on the sofa looked as if she'd had a close encounter with a meat-cutter. His imagination was at a loss as to what could cause something like that to Laria. And yet, there was something familiar about her, something that made him come closer, just to truly see her … She opened the unbruised eye, and smiled weakly. Her jaw must have been broken, by the looks of it, but miraculously, she still had all her teeth.

"Hey, Kaiba," she whispered, and the voice was certainly Laria's. "I hope I haven't made you too much of a mess, I was so tired … You do have quite a smart door, though, I needed nearly twenty minutes to get in." She tried to yawn, but flinched with pain.

"Laria … What happened to you?"

"I've been in a fight. More than one, as a matter of fact. But it's over now. They are out of my way, forever." She smiled her pained smile again, and slowly pushed herself upwards. He noticed at least one of her limbs must have been broken, but she didn't seem to feel it. She rose to her feet completely before collapsing into his arms.

"Damn, I hoped that thing would hold until you came," she whispered.

"What? A painkiller? That should have been strong," he responded.

"It was, believe me." Her voice was now hardly a murmur. He took her in his arms and lifted her. She was shockingly light as he carried her down to the medical centre, and he stayed with her until doctors confirmed that she was out of mortal danger. She had a broken leg, jaw and three ribs, disjoint shoulder, badly bruised eye and most of the body, and was generally very weak. Her body showed signs of constant abuse that lasted for months, she was covered in half-healed injuries, mostly just bruises, except for two old, scarred bullet wounds.

"She must have last eaten days ago, except for the drugs," the doctor told Seto. "Most of the injuries are about three days old, beginning to heal on their own, so she must have been about with them all this time, taking strong opiates to ease the pain. I don't think she developed an addiction though – there are traces of many different drugs in her blood, so she must have taken something else each time to prevent it. She'll be fine in a matter of weeks. About the older wounds, they seem to be healing fine, but there are signs that she got the bullets out with a knife or something like it, most probably herself. When she awakes, we'll see if there are any psychological consequences of the pain and efforts."

Seto nodded. He wondered what happened to her, but what worried him more were his own feelings. Something stirred deep within his body when he held her in his arms, so fragile, so weak. Her skin was warm and soft, and she held to him tightly, as if she would be letting go of life together with him. He noticed the shape of her body for the first time, slim yet feminine, and as he held her, he was acutely aware of her closeness. They have barely touched before, except for shaking hands or occasional mock fight, with the exception of the hug on their first evening, and the thought of her body, so close to him, never even crossed his mind. Laria was a friend, and he wanted it to stay this way. Emocionally, he certainly felt nothing but deep relief that she was all right, and on the slightly deeper level, gentle fondness for her. It was nothing like the maddening feelings he had felt for Jade at the beginning, when he had been mostly out of control of his body and mind. But what he felt as he carried her was well out if his control as well, and he didn't yet want to name it, though the word was burning at the edge of his mind.

Desire.

Jade was waiting for him, sitting at the kitchen table, looking torn between rage and saddness. She looked up as he came in, and she whimpered a bit, so that fresh tears showed in her eyes, and she said,

"What was that all about? Who is she anyway?"

"She's your old friend, Laria Rouge. I think she'll be staying down in the medical centre for a while. I've no idea what happened to her, though; we had no contact for quite a few months."

"So … she'll take my place now."

He sighed. "You just can't take the fact that I can make a normal, friendly relationship with a girl, can you? I'll take care that she heals all right, and then I'll send her back to her place. If she has nowhere to go, I'll give her the spare appartement. But anyway, that's nothing to you now. You'll pack your things and leave by tommorow evening. I can arrange a lift for you if you want, wherever you want to go, and I want to hear nothing from you, ever again. Is that clear?"

She cried, she accused him of unnecessary cruelty, she pleaded for mercy, but he was adamant, and finally, she gave up, crawling away like a worm she was reduced to.

"Once, I've heard a saying," he told her back. "One glass of wine shortens your life for an hour, one cigarette for a day, one sleepless night for a week, but one woman can shorten it for nearly three years."

The next evening, she was gone.