Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh.
*Chapter 4*
(Continue flashback: wedding party)
Stunning doesn't even do her justice.
That would have been Seto's answer to his brother's remark about Anzu's appearance, had he be given the chance to express his opinion. Truth be told, Anzu, dressed in a sapphire ankle sweep evening gown, had earned herself lustful looks from every male guest and bystander, a fact he was adamantly refusing to acknowledge how much he detested. Instead, he chose to observe her from afar, trying to suppress his laughter as she unwillingly squeezed herself among a group of rather fearsome women, who overzealously competed against each other for the bride's bouquet.
He had to admit the evening was not as unpleasant as he originally estimated. When Mokuba barged into his office, clutching Yugi's invitation, he simply instructed his secretary to dispatch a negative R.S.V.P. and be done with the matter. But his brother virtually begged him to change his mind, claiming he had already asked a girl to be his date, her parents giving their permission on the condition that an adult supervisor accompanied them. And of course Mokuba never played fair; despite entering puberty a few years ago, the kid's negotiation abilities (aka the puppy-eyes look) remained utterly intact. Seto's surrender was inevitable. However, what he would under no circumstances settle for was Mokuba's proposition for what he had referred to as a double date: apparently, Mokuba's escort had an older sister who 'would do anything to meet Domino's most eligible bachelor'. So Mokuba suggested Anzu as an alternative and Seto agreed, reasoning that half a brain was better than no brain at all.
But after spending the entire evening with her (without any blood being shed), Seto was beginning to regret his malicious comment. It wasn't just because of her beauty, although her external appearance hardly could be disregarded. She was smart and quick-witted, always ready to counter his mockery, coming up with an equally sarcastic response. Nothing seemed to intimidate her or undermine her resolution, and he surprisingly discovered they had a lot in common. But most importantly, she wasn't afraid to stand up to him and speak her mind, a quality Seto appreciated and respected. She was… a challenge, he concluded, as he watched her walking towards him. And Seto Kaiba never withdrew from a challenge.
Anzu took her time approaching him. He was standing by the fireplace; exactly where she left him when Rebecca grabbed her hand and dragged her to the middle of the dance floor, declaring it was time to throw the bouquet. His handsome features were partially visible in the shimmering flames, yet even in the faint light, it was impossible to ignore the intensity those impossibly blue eyes of him generated. A super model would envy the way the dark blue tuxedo he was wearing suited him, a detail that didn't go unnoticed by the room's female population; every now and then, a woman would turn to look at him, desire written all over her face. Anzu decided to overlook how much that annoyed her. But it wasn't physical attraction the only reason why she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. In the few hours they had spent together (managing not to kill each other in the meantime), she had taken a glimpse of another side of him, a caring yet seductive side she never thought that existed. Not that she had him all figured out in one night; despite their pleasant interaction, there was no doubt that Seto Kaiba still remained a mystery. A mystery she promised herself she would ultimately solve.
"Spoils of war?" he asked, nodding at the flowers she was holding.
"What did you expect?" she rejoined. "Rebecca practically shoved it in my arms. You could have helped a little," she accused him, "instead of just watching me being kidnapped."
"And risk ruining the highlight of the night? Hardly an act for a gentleman. Besides, you seemed to be having fun."
"Being stomped by Rebecca's single friends who fought as if their life depended on a bunch of flowers?" She looked at him with disbelief. "You have a pretty twisted idea of fun."
"Why else would I be here?"
She eyed him quizzically. "Why indeed?" she wondered. "I mean, attending your number one rival's wedding couldn't have been at the top of your things-to-do-for-today list. Especially…" she hesitated, lowering her head. "Especially knowing you would be stuck with me for the evening." She looked back at him again. "You must have hated it. So how come you agreed to this…uh…arrangement?"
He studied her face. Her expression was neutral, but a moment ago, she seemed perturbed, as if his answer actually mattered. "Wheeler wasn't available," he teased.
She burst into laughter. "You do realize you've just cracked a non-spiteful joke involving Joey?"
He smirked. "I'll be careful not to make a habit of it. To answer your question, however, it was Mokuba's insistence that I couldn't evade. He was too excited at the prospect of spending time with his girlfriend to let me get away with it. Of course, I never thought I would end up thanking him for being that obstinate."
Whether it was the fiery look he gave her as he spoke those final words or the underlying compliment that made her flush, Anzu couldn't tell. She only felt the urge to look away, ascribing the sudden blush that graced her cheeks to the glass of champagne – the sole glass of champagne - she had consumed all evening. Seto wondered if she maintained that timid expression on purpose, just to make his blood boil, because that was the effect she seemed to have on him. Feeling discomfited, they both turned to look at Mokuba, who was chatting with Yugi, his arm wrapped around Sakura's shoulders.
"I can't believe Mokuba has started dating," she tenderly said.
He smiled, his gaze still focused on his brother. "That makes two of us."
She wasn't prepared for the feeling his smile stirred inside her. It was a warm, bright smile he probably only reserved for Mokuba, totally contrasting to the idea she had formed for his personality. Then again, if that evening had taught her anything, it was that, when it came to him, she couldn't take anything for granted. She wondered how many surprises she should expect from him.
"What about you?" he asked, bringing her back to reality. "How do you explain your lack of companion? Is New York not spacious enough to contain your romantic interest?"
She shook her head. "I moved to New York for a reason: to be the utmost dancer that ever walked the stage of Broadway. I don't have time for acquaintances. Until my goal is achieved, everything else seems…" She searched for the correct word.
"Insignificant," he offered.
"Exactly," she concurred.
They lapsed into silence, taken aback by their coinciding opinions. Just then, the sound of soft music filled the air, as the orchestra started performing a love ballad, inviting all couples to the dance floor.
"Do you have enough energy for a dance," he asked, "or has your floral battle exhausted you?"
She pretended to be thinking about it. "I suppose I would survive a waltz."
He led her to the dance floor. Placing his left hand on her waist and twining his right hand's fingers with hers, he pulled her close and they started moving slowly, synchronized to the melody. He was a better dancer than anyone would expect from a man of his physique, moving elegantly across the room with the ease of a professional. He held her firmly, yet gently, and Anzu shivered at the thought that only the delicate fabric of her dress stood barrier between his touch and her skin. Closing her eyes, she leaned against his shoulder and felt his grip tighten around her.
"You are wrong," he whispered, his breath caressing her ear.
She, on the contrary, almost forgot how to breathe. "About what?"
"I don't hate being around you, Anzu." The way he said her first name made her heart flutter. "In fact," he added, his lips an inch away from hers, "it's quite the opposite."
"You're lying," she contradicted, her hands gripping his shirt.
"Let me prove I am not." He closed the gap between them. Their kiss, a tentative brush on the lips at first, quickly advanced to something stronger, until they were devouring each other viciously, engulfed in such a frenzy that was driving them wild and set them both on fire. They couldn't go on like this, not in the center of a ballroom full of wedding guests.
"Leave with me," he said in a commanding tone, the blue of his eyes even darker.
From that moment on, she knew she would never be able to resist those eyes.
(End flashback – back to hospital)
A few minutes passed, but neither of them had moved. It was their first meeting after almost 8 years of separation, but their minds were traveling far away in time and space, recalling another meeting that meant so much more to them and invoked sentiments they both believed to be lost for good. The room could have been burned to the ground and neither of them would have noticed, because the rest of the world had disappeared the moment they laid eyes on each other. His gaze was fixed upon hers and, although he had overcome the initial shock, she knew him well enough to read the emotions that stormed in his seemingly apathetic expression: surprise, doubt, anger, indecisiveness were mirrored in his eyes, matching her own diverse feelings of panic, nervousness and hesitation. He wanted to touch her, to make sure she was not an illusion, but fought back the idea. She wished to run straight to his arms, but resisted the temptation.
Feeling uncomfortable by the awkward silence, Dr. Ming cleared his throat. "The situation might seem alarming, Mr. Kaiba, but I guarantee you no one can enter your brother's room without being seen. Even lieutenant Mazaki," he pointed at Anzu, "was denied access."
Lieutenant? Confusion passed through his face for a second, but the mask of indifference quickly returned. "And what would the police be doing here, instead of searching for the perpetrator behind my brother's attack? Is this your new policy, wandering around aimlessly while a killer runs loose…Miss Mazaki?"
She narrowed her eyes. Of course they would address each other like strangers, she expected no other treatment. But she would not tolerate instructions as to how to do her job. "A police investigation demands the upholding of a certain procedure and, in this case, your brother is the key witness…Mr. Kaiba."
"Do you expect to extract much information from an unconscious person, lieutenant?"
"He won't be unconscious forever," she indicated.
"And I am going to be there when he wakes up, to get rid of any… impediments that might threaten his recovery."
The subtle hint, clearly directed to her, hit dead on target. Point taken, Anzu thought, but remained silent as Seto had shifted his attention to Dr. Ming, who chose that moment to intervene, offering an update about Mokuba. A few minutes later, he held up a hand, signaling for the doctor to discuss the rest in private, and waved in dismissal.
If the atmosphere was stiff enough in the doctor's presence, the tension doubled once they were left alone.
"I'm sorry about Mokuba," she tried a different approach.
"I'm sure you are," he said in a harsh tone.
She sighed. He obviously wasn't going to make it easy for her. "I meant it. The doctor told me he is healing, but eventually he will have to deal with the news about Serenity." And a murder investigation, she added silently.
"Not if I can help it," he emphasized.
She considered his statement for a moment. Realizing the meaning of his words, she gave him a strict look. "You are planning not to tell him."
He looked away, tucking his hands in his pockets. "What he doesn't know can't hurt him."
"Do you actually believe you can keep something like this hidden for long?" she pressed. "A careless doctor could easily spill the beans, not to mention the public attention this case has drawn through the media. It might be easier to hear it from his brother. Don't you think you owe him an explanation?"
He shot her a furious look. "Do you really want to talk about owed explanations, Anzu?"
She took a step back, alarmed by the turn of the conversation. She knew perfectly well what he was insinuating; it was the very same reason she had been running away from him all those years. But she wasn't ready to delve into the matter, possibly, she would never be. She felt a lump forming in her throat, rendering her speechless.
He mistook her silence for indignation. "That's what I thought," he said, his voice ice cold. He took a step forward, until he was standing right in front of her, but it was more an intimidating gesture than a sign of compromise. "I'll make this clear once: Mokuba's condition, or any other matter pertaining to my family, is none of your business." He managed a bitter laugh. "It shouldn't be that difficult for you to walk away, considering you haven't given a damn for 8 years now." He might as well have slapped her across the face, it would have hurt less. "Now if you'll excuse me," he sneered at her, "I have more pressing matters to attend."
Without sparing her a second glance, he walked to the elevators. She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, trapped between images of the past and present experiences, because she wasn't sure her legs could carry her to the exit without collapsing half way there.
She was too overwhelmed by her own emotions to notice his paces weren't as stable as before, his posture not as confident. And the elevator doors had glided into place before she could catch the sight of him bracing a hand against the wall for support.
She hadn't even realized her distress was noticeable, until a nurse approached and asked, in a rather concerned manner, if she was feeling unwell. "No, no, I'm fine, thank you," Anzu replied. She had a last look at the closed elevator doors before turning around and walking shakily to the exit.
It took me a while, but here it is: chapter 4. Now you know what brought Seto and Anzu together. Care to find out what drove them apart? All you have to do is review.
Thank you for reading!