Introductory note: Yami Yugi is not referred to as "Yami." I know this is awkward, but I hope it is clear enough to follow which "Yugi" is forward. See concluding notes.

4. Holding Out

"I know Mahad very well, but I don't know the rest of my Guardians well at all … I don't even know Akhenaden all that well, and he's my uncle."

Seto stared at him his eyes widening. He couldn't help it. The unguarded sentiment expressed was all too familiar. And in that moment, the prince caught that connection in his eyes.

"You don't remember anything, do you?" the prince said.

And, with that, Seto couldn't help thinking that this was the sort of opportunity that gameplay would set up to advance the character's position … and he didn't like it. This was not at all the sort of game that he played. He was at a severe disadvantage. This Bakura wanted something … he had no idea what it could be.

Still, whatever differences there were between these characters and the people they resembled, there were certain similarities, resonances with his own life. Seto realized that Bakura could well have built these similarities into his characters as some sort of subtle trap … but … even so, Seto had to proceed on some sort of basis. And proceeding on the basis that Yugi was as good at this sort of thing as anyone he'd ever known was as good a basis as any.

He had to trust someone.

"No, my Prince. Since the … accident, I don't remember anything. I don't remember this place, or the people, or my village." Seto paused, trying to think of the way this would make sense. "I think that … there might be a sinister intent behind this. Perhaps you think this a foolish fantasy."

The prince looked at him, a little surprised, but quite serious. "Not at all, but … you are usually so … resistant … to things you think are 'fantastical.' Please."

"Very well. I hesitate to speak of this at all, because … well, frankly because I feel strongly that all our conversations may be monitored."

The prince stared at him for a moment and then seemed to comprehend. "Magically, you mean."

"Yes." Seto didn't like to speak so euphemistically, but to these people, computer monitoring might as well be magic. He waited while the prince absorbed that information.

"Then … we must be circumspect, but we cannot allow that to paralyze us."

"You believe me."

"Of course I believe you, Set."

"But, as I understand it, you don't know me well."

"I know you well enough … but, more than ever, I regret that I didn't make the effort to know the priest initiates better. Tell me, what makes you believe these things?"

"If you insist. The memories I do have are … of a life quite different from this one."

"Tell me."

"It is of no consequence. What this person wants has nothing to do with that—"

"Then perhaps it is all an illusion, something meant to confuse or tempt you. There must be some purpose to it."

"Perhaps, but I think it does no good to go into it now."

"Then what does this sorcerer want, and why is he focused on you?"

"Frankly, I don't know. He seems to think I know something, some information. I hold, if you will, the key piece to some puzzle that he desperately wants to solve."

"And he shouldn't solve it."

"No. I don't like being coerced. But …" There was a feeling, a growing sense, somewhere deep inside him. It had been … Yes, it had been the source of the nausea that had swept through him upon seeing Bakura with the prince. The potential loss of something a lot more serious than his pride.

As ridiculous as that seemed.

Seto heard himself blurting out, "Be careful with that Bakura, he's—" He caught himself too late. How had he allowed himself to speak without thinking?

"The son of the emissary from Assyria? Surely he's as harmless. Forward, maybe, but …" Seeing Seto's expression, the prince tapered off.

"Pay close attention next time that you speak with him."

The prince looked at Seto very seriously for a long moment, then said, "There was something. He … he paid more attention to the priests and initiates than was usual. I attributed it to curiosity and … I apologize for this, Set, but an interest of an immodest nature. He is—to say the least—forward and presumptuous."

Again, despite the fact that he took some solace in the knowledge that Mokuba was not taking part in his travails for once, Seto felt his anger rising. He felt an unaccountable rage at the idea that his rival had to spend time in the company of such a creature with few to defend him—and none that knew the true nature of his adversary. He could not understand his feelings—this was simply a simulation of his rival … It must simply be the fact that the man was being treated with such utter disrespect. "My Prince, I—" he began.

"I know what you're going to say and the answer is no. You're not to guard or protect me in any way. I'm going to behave completely normally. If this Bakura leaves me alone, fine. If he seeks me out, even better. We might learn what he wants from you."

"Hn."

"Meanwhile, there is one other thing I mean to ask you. Why did you confide in me and not in Akhenaden? He is your mentor. Surely you've been told that much. Do you not trust that relationship?"

"I have been informed, but …" He couldn't shake that impression, that association … there was something deep inside that warned him off instinctively. "I … can't. I don't even want to talk to him."

"That's so strange. Up until your injury, I would have said you relationship was one of the deepest trust."

"It is?"

"He treats you like his son."

"His … son …" Seto's face twisted. Gozaburo's son … He didn't want to be any man's son.

"Is that so …" The prince reached forward in concerned surprise, Seto flinching away, evading his fingertips. "I would have thought—"

"An orphan—like me—would—"

"Is that so bad, to gain standing in the world? I thought that's what you wanted."

"I …" What did he want? He wanted to see Mokuba again. To see Mokuba smiling, saying "I knew you'd get away, Nii-sama!" And then Mokuba would hug him tightly, and Seto would pretend he didn't care, only …

He was a total fraud. He loved it when Mokuba hugged him.

Looking back at the expectant prince, he said, "I suppose so."

The prince said, "You don't sound convinced."

Seto said nothing.

"Nevertheless," the prince continued, "You must tell Akhenaden that you've lost your memory. It's of paramount importance. I trust your instincts. Master Akhenaden may have fallen under an evil influence. If so, you must tell him the truth before he becomes suspicious and scans you with his sennen eye."

I'm not going to read your thoughts. I'm just examining you.

That golden object where his eye should have been.

Seto suppressed a shiver.

Looking up at the prince, Seto again detected a trace of concern in the boy.

"You need rest. That powder should have started to act well before now and it has a soporific effect. Please."

Seto began to protest, but the prince pushed his chest softly until Seto relented and lay back onto the cot.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, pulling off Seto's sandals.

"I … my headache has eased … a little," he allowed, noting that the pounding had indeed subsided to a dull ache.

"I will speak to you later about a plan—I hope to have formulated one."

But the prince's voice was fading out. Whatever Mahad had given Seto was beginning to hit with full force and sleep was pushing in irresistibly. He embraced it at last, fighting its call no more.

In the plaza of Domino, Mokuba gathered with his security team and Yugi and his friends. Yugi was still showing his other self.

"Have you heard anything?" demanded Mokuba over his comm device. "If you hear anything, any promising leads, contact me right away."

"Nothing?"

"No ransom demands, nothing. Yugi, what are we going to do?"

"We're going to keep trying, that's all."

"Would you like help? I have a car," offered Mai.

"Yeah, I know I haven't been on the best of terms with, em, your brother, but I want to help. I can look with Mai and we can cover more ground that way."

"We have transportation," said Mokuba, "but if you could help us track down leads, that would help. You know the duelists better and that might be what we need. Thanks, Mai. Jonouchi."

"Great. We'll get started talking to people right away."

As the two moved off into the milling crowd, Yugi looked at Mokuba. Seto had always held himself apart. He didn't know the duelists—not really. He was respected, but not particularly loved, except in the manner of a distant idol. Kaiba was unreachable. As much as he loved him, even Mokuba idolized him.

Mokuba looked at Yugi anxiously. "Where do we begin?" he asked.

"I guess the best place to start is where you last heard from him or had his confirmed whereabouts."

"That would be here," said Isono, indicating an area on the square next to a fountain. "His team lost him in a particularly heavy crowd."

"This is where Seto was going to meet up with me," said Mokuba. "We were going to meet and he was going to challenge you …" Mokuba was dangerously close to tears again at the thought of his brother dueling.

"We will have that duel, but first things first. How could—"

"His disk transponder must have been disabled," said Mokuba. "All disks have transponders that communicate all relevant data to HQ—location, and full duel data."

"This fountain, you say," the spirit said, walking over to it. He began to examine the area thoroughly.

"If he could've, Nii-sama would have left me a message or clue." Mokuba looked in and around the large structure hopefully. Suddenly, he cried out in dismay, picking up a small silver object. He handed it to Isono.

"The young master's comm device?" It was scuffed and damaged.

"We couldn't use that to locate him, either," Mokuba said sadly.

Anzu hurried to put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, your brother's strong."

Yugi crouched, frowning slightly. There was something electronic, crushed, near a shrubbery planting. "What's this?"

Mokuba hurried over. "It looks like—" he turned it over. "Yes, it's one of our transponders. "it must have been pried loose and crushed. Just as we suspected."

"Then whoever did this knows enough to disable the transponder. He knows that the disks are being tracked."

"Everyone in the tournament knows that the duels are monitored." Mokuba said, frustrated. "This doesn't get us much further."

"It tells us a little. It tells us that the guy who took Kaiba isn't stupid … but he took Kaiba. Doesn't that mean he can't be stupid?" Yugi sighed. "It looks like Kaiba must have been disabled and removed. Otherwise, he would have been able to call for help."

Mokuba climbed up onto the fountain and looked around. "He could have gone anywhere in the city from here. Nii-sama chose this location because it's open and central. There's a lot of media here and room for dueling."

"But also a lot of room for maneuver and escape. Maybe someone saw something."

"I'll have Isono send out a team to canvass. A promise of reward could turn up something."

"You should arrange to appear on the morning news. We've already announced that he's missing, so there's no question of keeping this quiet. We might as well take full advantage of the situation and ask for help."

"There are enough people who buy our products. You'd think they wouldn't mind helping us out if they can," said Mokuba.

"Of course they would," said Anzu. She glanced toward the spirit of the puzzle, giving him a penetrating look. "What about your idea?"

"Then it's likely the suspect has gone underground. It's either the guy who's behind the Rare Hunters or—"

"Bakura! You said you saw Bakura when you were injured, right?"

"Yes, and if his dark side has gotten involved in this—"

"Kaiba could be in real trouble. He doesn't know who he's dealing with."

"He can take care of himself."

"He's at a huge disadvantage against this kind of force, though. Remember Pegasus?"

"Of course I do. That's why I want to hurry," he said. "But we must have faith in Kaiba."

Seto awoke to the sensation of bright sunlight penetrating his eyelids.

He groaned.

Apparently, whatever this was, it had not concluded.

He stood and groaned again. How was he supposed to dress without showering?

Muttering under his breath, he approached the pitcher, poured fresh water into the bowl, divested himself of his clothing and scrubbed himself thoroughly from head to foot. Locating fresh clothing—and swearing at its scantiness—he dressed himself, then poked his head into the corridor. How was he supposed to find his way through the day?

At least he was given a few days off from whatever training regimen he was supposed to be following.

A girl scampered up to him and said, "Here, follow me, master Set."

"And why should I do that?"

"Oh, sorry, I should have said something. The Prince commands it."

He looked at the girl. She was a strange one. She followed her orders with an insouciant impudence and reminded him strongly of someone … no, something. Black Magician Girl. It was difficult not to stare at her as he followed her down the hall.

Her chattering continued incessantly as they went. "I don't know why the prince has taken such an interest. I think it has something to do with your injury, but I can't imagine why. It was a normal injury that took place during training. The servants are gossiping, though. They say that the prince might have some sort of crush on you. That's ridiculous though. You hardly know each other and the Prince isn't the sort to take a romantic interest in someone he doesn't know well." She didn't wait for him to respond, but continued as though he'd asked the question. "Like with Mahad."

Mahad?

"That was just a fling, you know? And he's going to have to marry anyway, so he'll have to cultivate an interest in women—oh, we're here."

Seto's head was starting to ache again.

The two of them knelt in obeisance, and when they arose, Seto looked around. They were standing in a room filled floor to ceiling with shelves upon shelves of scrolls of papyrus. There were a few desks and stools outfitted with writing utensils. At one of these, Yugi was seated, again, dressed for the heat in a simple linen kilt, but with the elaborate jewelry that denoted his station.

"Very good. Thank you, Mana," he said. "Please, join Mahad for your studies."

"Mahad?" asked Seto.

"She is studying magic," he said simply. "The only magic you will wield will be that of your sennen item … most likely the sennen rod, given our assessments. It's a very important assignment."

"Those things …" Seto didn't want to think about them. There was something … wrong … black …

"Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine."

"Did Mahad's remedy not work? I should call for—"

"I awoke feeling fine. I have a slight headache, but …"

"Tell me immediately if it gets any worse," he said.

"Mahad …" Seto said. "That girl gossips constantly. She … I'm reluctant to repeat gossip, but perhaps you might want to be aware … your attention to me is being misinterpreted."

"As a crush, you mean? Royalty is the main topic of gossip, most of it untrue." Atem shrugged and sighed. "Meanwhile, I've told Akhenaden that I wanted your help with a minor project while you are prohibited from training."

"There was no objection?"

"I'm sure there was, only they dare not refuse me."

"My Prince …" Seto began hesitantly.

"What is it?" He smiled encouragingly. "You still … you remember nothing?"

"What I remember is of a different place. There are similar people … faces," he said, thinking of Black Magician Girl, "and I don't know how to find things. Basic things … like …"

The prince's face reddened a little and he blurted, "Oh, Set, I'm sorry! You need to know where to get breakfast—and-and to bathe. You don't even know where to find your things or … your own training materials." He thought. "And you still haven't informed High Priest Akhenaden. He must be informed right away of your predicament."

Upon seeing Seto's expression, he hastened to add, "for your own safety, if nothing else. Please. Even if Akhenaden is involved in this somehow—which is unlikely—not telling him anything might well play into the hands of our adversary."

Our adversary.

Why did that encourage Seto? He preferred to work alone. Didn't he? He said nothing, but followed Yugi out into the hallway and through the corridors, once again thankful for his eidetic memory.

At last they came out into an area with a large pool and flowing fountains, surrounded by gardens and beautiful hangings. "This is where the initiates and higher-level servants bathe—male, of course," he said.

Seto didn't like the fact that the facilities were communal, but tried his best to hide his distaste by examining them curiously. "Naturally, the High Priests have their own bath, as does the royal family and the harem …"

Seto turned to see Yugi's expectant expression. Surely he didn't expect Seto to casually disrobe and bathe in front of him. "My Prince …?"

The boy laughed. "You are the most rigid and shy person I've ever encountered," he stated. "Are you embarrassed that you aren't Set himself?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You seem embarrassed that you're human, Set. You excel so readily that you see any evidence that levels you with the rest of humanity as an indictment of weakness. But you are human, and that isn't something that you need to weed out of yourself. You need to accept and understand that in yourself or how are you ever going to have any compassion for others?"

"Do I need to have compassion for true weakness?"

"You need to understand the people of this country in order to properly deal justice. That is the day-to-day function of the High Priesthood. If you are to hold the sennen rod—"

"And if I don't want to?"

"Set, I don't understand, you've always wanted that. It's been ordained."

"Never mind. There are other—"

"You'll understand when your memory returns."

"Right now we need to find out what—"

"What this guy is after. After you bathe and eat. I won't have you passing out." The boy started walking toward one of the palace entrances. "I'll be back in a little while to check on you."

Seto scowled.

He thinks I'm bashful, does he? Communal bathing was one thing, but being watched while bathing was another completely. As Seto removed his meager clothing and entered the pool, he considered how comfortable he would feel having Yugi—even a VR Yugi—scrutinize him during the process. He looked around.

Do these people even have anything they use for soap?

Later, after a bath and a meal, Seto was feeling much better.

"Now, we must inform Akhenaden of your condition."

Seto sighed. "You still believe this is the best course of action."

"I know it is."

"Hn. You understand this situation better than I." Seto hoped that he was trusting the right character. After all, wouldn't Bakura realize that he was most predisposed to put his trust in this particular character? Or … would he believe that their rivalry would cause a natural enmity? It was difficult for him to gauge Bakura's strategy. He'd almost never seen this side of the wimpy little guy.

Seto followed Yugi down yet another set of endless corridors and up a spiral staircase to what appeared to be an alchemical laboratory where Akhenaden stood poring over a lengthy scroll.

"M-my Prince!" he said, dropping immediately to his knees. "And … Set? What brings you here?"

"Akhenaden, it's come to my attention that Set has something that he must tell you. He's been rather too embarrassed to tell you this before now, hoping that the situation would resolve itself … but it hasn't thus far."

"Master Akhenaden, I regret to inform you that I … I have no memory of anything before yesterday's … incident."

The color drained from Akhenaden's face, causing him to age before their eyes. "This is intolerable!" he said. His hand struck out like a viper and gripped Seto's wrist like a vice. "I must examine you immediately."

Yugi must have caught Seto's expression of acute horror at the idea of that man facing him down with that staring golden object and said, firmly, "I'm positive that won't be necessary. I have my personal physician on call and if Set's condition doesn't improve markedly by tomorrow, I'll have him take decisive action."

Akhenaden didn't look satisfied, but he dropped Seto's wrist. "I'm going to do my own research, with your permission, my Prince," he said, bowing his head.

"Please do."

The two said their farewells and hastened down the long stairway, Seto trying to suppress any obvious expression of relief.

But halfway down, Yugi suddenly sat on a stair and started laughing almost hysterically.

"What the hell are you laughing about?" Seto asked, trying valiantly not to join in the addictive laughter, his chest hitching.

"You sh-should have seen your face! But … by Osiris himself, I wouldn't have wanted to be in your shoes! Who wants to have that dried-up raisin peering into their mind?" He leaned back, gasping.

Seto finally gave in, glad to have some sort of emotional release for all of the relentless stress that had been amassing ever since he'd been stuck in this infernal game. "H-he he wou-would pro-probably shri-shrivel up y-your brains j-just by looking at th-them!"

Seto turned, bracing himself on a stair to keep from stumbling.

It wasn't that funny, but somehow, Yugi seemed to think so and burst into fresh gales of laughter, finally holding his stomach as his breath ran out. "Qu-quit it Set, I c-can't breathe!"

Finally, the two hiccuped and regained their breath. "Here, Set" said Yugi, "Help me up."

Seto stood and held out a hand to the prince, who grasped it with both of his. He was a much smaller boy with much smaller hands and Seto pulled him up easily. I could lift him and carry him down these stairs without any difficulty at all, he thought.

"My Prince, may I ask a personal question?"

"Please."

"You're not afraid of Master Akhenaden, are you?"

Seto realized that he had asked far too blunt a question from the way that Yugi's head swiveled to face him, but he nevertheless answered rather than rebuking him. "I find him worthy of caution, Set," he said with a wry smile. Then his expression changed, a crease forming across his brow. "It's your reaction that I find intriguing. You've always trusted Akhenaden implicitly, but now …" He shook his head. "You don't want to go near him."

"He reminds me of someone." Seto frowned. The man didn't look anything like Gozaburo and he wasn't a rich merchant, so … what … ? He couldn't put his finger on what it was that linked the two together in his mind. Surely it couldn't be the father-figure thing. This character Seto was playing meant little to nothing to him … didn't he?

But Yugi was speaking. "You mean in this 'other life' you've been talking about? I think it would really help us if you'd tell me about that."

"It wouldn't make any sense to you, trust me."

Yugi didn't look satisfied. "All right, Set, I'll leave it be for now. But, I'm warning you, there will come a time when I'll command you to tell me all about it. It would be better for you to choose a time to tell me about it yourself."

"We've done all the things that you've recommended so far," Seto commented.

"Yes, and I haven't formulated a good plan yet," he admitted. "I should have a better idea this evening after I've spent the afternoon with Bakura."

"You …?"

"You said yourself that everything we do and say might be monitored anyway, so we might as well consider that we are at a complete disadvantage in this game. Only our thoughts are concealed. Only those things that we can somehow signal to each other without our adversary knowing can be kept between ourselves. And we do not know each other well enough to communicate well in this manner. So."

"So, this person holds all the cards."

"So, this person has every reason to believe he's going to win," Yugi said, looking Seto in the eye with a confident grin.

Seto returned the look, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

Bakura is overconfident. He doesn't realize who he's up against.

That's what Yugi was telling him. It came across as clearly as if the boy had said it directly. Maybe they knew each other better than this prince character realized. But … Bakura knew them both better than he realized as well. "My Prince …" he said.

"Yes?"

"Be careful. He knows more than he's saying."

Yugi gave him a strange look and said, "Of course."

Seto found himself back in the library for the afternoon. It was Yugi's suggestion that he research this situation thoroughly.

But … what the hell was he supposed to research? Magic? What was Bakura getting at?

This made no sense.

And—he pulled a scroll out at random—these were all written out in some sort of elaborate scribble.

Read them. Right. Tell me another one.

He sat on a stool at one of the high tables and unfurled it, scanning the text with casual, caustic sardonicism.

Wait.

I can read this.

Was it the VR system? Whatever it was, the symbols before him were as legible as Kanji. In fact, they were more legible than English, which he read fluently. It was exactly like the oral language that they were speaking, as natural to him as his native tongue, yet strange as ever, seeing his bronze hands holding the papyrus scroll with its odd painted figures and hieroglyphs.

He couldn't believe the detail and realism in the VR program. It was so much more advanced than his own systems that he couldn't help but feel a certain level of envy … even awe. Moreover, his estimation of the time he'd been under was starting to concern him. Even if the "story" was taking less virtual time than real time, he would have been "under" for a considerable amount of real time by now. This could turn out to pose real health concerns.

But whatever he was facing, he had no choice.

He had to continue this, whatever it was, to its conclusion … or hope that Mokuba and his friends would find and rescue him in time.

As lame and pathetic as that sounded.

But holding out was a victory in itself.

At least … that was what he told himself.

Author's notes:

Thanks to everyone who's been reading & thanks for reviewing! Thanks to all who have decided to follow this story, and especially those who've already shown so much faith in it to favorite it already. It's very motivating.

I apologize for the lag between chapters; I really didn't intend to make it this long a wait. But this is a longer chapter than I usually post, so hopefully that makes up a little ...

Yeah, I do tend to be verbose with my notes, sorry about that. For Pride, I had a lot to say about what I was bringing in from the manga vs. the anime and some things about the characters. And with Fielder's Choice I found that a lot of the readers didn't have much exposure to baseball so I decided to add (a lot!) of baseball definitions. So ... I guess I've kind of gotten into the habit. Actually, I probably don't need to say as much about this one.

That said:

A minor (but verbose!) quibble: (I know other fanfic writers don't do this and it doesn't bother me to read fics done this way, but ...) It's really hard to figure out how to handle the Yugi/Yami Yugi thing and what to call Yami Yugi. No matter what I do, it seems awkward. The characters continue to call him Yugi in the Japanese anime and do not call him Yami. I can't bring myself to call him Yami (Dark)—even outside of dialogue—and Yami Yugi is unwieldy. Heavy sigh ... this is one thing that is so much easier to handle visually! I've simply thrown up my hands. I'm going to establish that it's Yami Yugi and call him Yugi ... for lack of a "known" name. Call me a purist or an idiot, I hope you can forgive me.

some sort of elaborate scribble: hieratic text, natch.

And a preview of chapter 5:

"I arranged for some privacy so that we could have a discussion. Just the two of us."

"Hn. I don't see that it will do you any good."

"I am going to get satisfaction, one way or the other."

Seto's attention snapped to high alert.

Seto gets a chance to talk things over with Bakura.