Flashing…Lights

Title is inspired by Kanye's song :D, although the video is too graphic. :0

--

June 20

"This isn't going to work."

"No, it's not."

In the lounge of the exorbitant dressing room on the 53rd floor, Kaiba and Avril stood facing each other with their hands on their hips. Kaiba wore a high-collared black shirt, black blazer and tight-fitting black pants with boots that had brass rivets at the front. Avril said he looked too severe, but in turn Kaiba said she looked like a groupie. He had a closet set aside for his company with clothes he picked himself (that way their dresses complimented his flatteringly). Avril had chosen a mermaid-gown shot with soft blue, white, and pink colors that resembled clouds.

"So what do you suggest?" Kaiba said sarcastically, though he was too lazy to make suggestions himself.

"I will choose your clothes," Avril told him. "And you choose mine. Okay?"

"Done. And don't take an eternity, Nelle."

They crossed each other's paths and entered the separate closets. Avril was amazed with his wardrobe; everything was perfectly organized; there wasn't a hanger out of place, and there were so many choices to look at. She spotted a metallic silver tie and picked it up immediately; now she would have to choose something more conservative, like a black shirt and trousers. After the trousers she found a black blazer with some padding at the shoulders; Avril took it up almost at once, because Kaiba needed structure in his clothes to give him some weight. And he wouldn't wear boots today, she decided, but dress shoes. She almost wished she could wear his clothes. It's…kinda sexy, she thought.

Meanwhile Kaiba was going through the women's closet using the process of elimination: too bright, too long, not formal enough, what was I thinking about that one? and is that even her size? Two minutes later he faced a dress that had potential. Kaiba rubbed his chin. It was strapless and the waist was defined just below the bust with a satin band of metallic silver, but the black color and length made up for its daring appeal. He lifted it from the rack, and considered how she would fill the dress and let his mind linger over the thought. Too bad it wouldn't show her legs. This'll do, he decided, walking out.

"I said I'd be quick, didn't I?" Avril taunted him as she walked out.

"Actually, you didn't," Kaiba pointed out. They exchanged clothes and went back in the closets to change.

Kaiba put on the tie and considered his reflection. Nelle had good taste, he thought, irked that he hadn't come up with this mix himself. Of course, he might have paired a different blazer and shirt, and he would've worn boots instead of dress shoes, but overall, she had made a good choice.

In the women's closet, Avril had just zipped the back of her dress and was startled at her reflection. She laughed. The dress was a reflection of Kaiba's thought; the black skirt might have been loose on a hipless model, but exposed the curves in Avril's torso. The waistline was defined just under the bust with a silver band, and overall the dress looked like a cross between a conservative evening gown and lingerie. But Avril wasn't offended; she was glad he chose something neither nun-like nor smutty. The length even was considerate of her feet.

"Are you done looking at yourself?"

Avril glared at his reflection. "Mr. Kaiba, what if you walked in when I was still changing?"

"It will only encourage you to change faster in the future," he told her reproachfully, but there was a slight smile on his lips. "You left the door open. And I knocked."

She liked his cologne. "Oh."

"Let's go."

--

In Japan there was a gossip magazine called Moshi-Moshi which promised its readers to know everything everywhere in the land of the rich and famous, including this small event on the 20th of June--the Polytech Annual Corporate Banquet, held at the Gilded Age Ballroom in Kyoto. Of the twenty paparazzi present, only three belonged to Moshi-Moshi--Honda, Sano, and Makino.

"Probably only a few C-listers will be around," their director said. "But be on the lookout."

Guests started arriving at 7:30. Sano took a gulp of coffee and lazily took a couple shots. Makino began going through names--some heiress's ex-boyfriend who had investments in Polytech, a prospective rapper who grew up with the company vice-president, etc., etc… "Did nobody bring a guest list?" Makino demanded.

"For what?" Honda replied. He waved at a guest to look in his direction, and took her picture. The other paparazzi hardly moved at all. "Nobody important is here."

"They might not end up in the magazine," Sano pointed out. "Especially if sales are up."

Their luck ran in a familiar limo pulled up. Makino dove in his pocket and took out a list of license-plate numbers. If he wasn't mistaken, the limo belonged to--

"KAIBA!"

"Kaiba?"

"Mr. Kaiba!"

"A few words, Seto?"

"Kaiba--over here!"

"Kaiba!"

"Finally a big fish!" Makino laughed. "Let's reel it in!"

The strength of three the Moshi-Moshi paparazzi beat out a bum-rush of other "mosquitoes" and fended off competitors with their elbows and camera lenses and microphones. It wouldn't be long before pedestrians noticed the commotion and stormed unto the carpet and make the chaos typical to public events. Honda was at the front and tried to zoom-in on the interior of the young CEO's limo, so that he could get a glimpse of his company tonight. Then every paparazzo heard a loud "cha-ching" in his or her ears.

"It's Cristina Millian!" one shouted.

"Hey Cristina!"

"Cristina, look over here!" Makino shouted. "OY! THIS WAY!"

Sano slapped his partner on the head. "Dumb ass, that's not Christina Millian, d'you want to mis-cite? Her hair's too short."

"Who is it then, eh?" Makino retorted.

"Mel B, the former Spice Girl, with a blonde dye job."

A nerdy camera boy interjected. "I think you mean Melody Thorton with a blonde dye job, sir." His voice was high and nasal. Sano and Makino looked at the amateur in confusion.

"You know," the kid said, "Melody Thorton!"

Lukewarm realization crept up Sano's face. "Oh--that chick from the PussyCat Dolls? I forgot what she looked like."

There were a few murmurs of agreement: "Yeah, me too..."

"I still say it's Mel B," Sano said stubbornly.

And then the ruckus started again. Makino flared. "Mel B is tall, you don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Shut up, I've done this longer than you--"

"Who is it then, huh?" Makino went back to recording. "Christina, any comment on your new hair cut?"

"Are you a natural blonde?" an Us reporter cried out between flashes. Cristina--or whoever she was--said "Yes," but Kaiba shouted at the reporters to mind their own business and rushed inside the hall, leaving the reporters with unanswered questions:

"Who are you?"

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Hey! What's your name?"

"NAME?"

--

As soon as Kaiba walked out, they were hit with flashing lights. Although Avril noticed the paparazzi was small and nothing more than a bunch of mosquitoes selfishly vying for pictures, together they made a kind of force. Shouting. Waving cameras and microphones. Flashing lights. Kaiba paid little attention to them. It was only when a reporter from US stuck a microphone in her face and asked, "Are you a natural blonde?" that Kaiba seemed to register their presence. Avril had made the mistake of answering them which caused an explosion of excitement. Kaiba pushed the US reporter behind the barricade, saying "Mind your damn business!" to the paparazzi and, "You should have shut up," to Avril, before rushing her inside the hall.

"Would you let go of my wrist?" she complained.

After giving her a hard stare, he let go. "That was stupid."

"I know."

"That's why I told you to not talk to the reporters under any circumstances. There will be much, much bigger events than this one and you can't hope to walk three feet unto a carpet if you're unable to follow directions."

Avril wanted to slap him. Who was he to talk to her like that? "I'll keep this in mind next time."

"'I'll keep this in mind' who?" he demanded.

"I'll keep this in mind, Seto," she replied evenly.

Kaiba folded his arms and looked down on her with an edge of contempt. Avril gave it back, folding her arms and keeping determination in her eyes, even as he said, "Cheek like that may cost you your job, Nelle."

Kiss my ass, she thought furiously as she walked past him and into the threshold of the entrance hall. You want to think you're superior to me, that you can control me, but you don't. And that makes you furious.

Kaiba watched her as she passed him, mixed with anger and lust. Just when he thought he could master her with the same psychology he used to master his other subordinates, she wriggled out of his control and became as changing and mysterious as when they first met. He was a person that appreciated continuity, a finite answer, and clarity. But somehow, she managed to keep her mouth shut and still give off a clear "Kiss my ass" attitude. She shouldn't encourage me, he thought sullenly.

Why is he staring at me? Avril thought with a little alarm. Was he really considering--gulp--firing her?

"Konban-wa, miss."

Avril looked to her right and shook the hand of one of the gentlemen in the hall. Dressed in a sharp, close-fitting black suit and white dress shirt, he gave her a charismatic smile that eased her agitation. He wasn't the handsomest man in the room, and he was a little on the short side, but he was quite good-looking. His face at the mixed features of a Japanese and a European: his nose was straight and covered in light brown freckles, his bones structure was defined and angular, and his hazel eyes were slanted at the corners and emphasized with long lashes. He couldn't have been much older than her--twenty-five? Twenty-six? Avril noticed he had a dimple in his left cheek, which added to his charm.

"Konban-wa," she replied. "May I ask your name?"

"Minamoto Toshiro. And your name?"

Minamoto--Avril felt like she was shaking the hand of a demigod. Who was she to give her name? "Nelle, Avril." Because Avril's name was foreign and Japanese didn't always correlate to foreign language (particularly the "l") Minamoto repeated her name in the most appropriate Japanese version: "Neru, Akiko. A pleasure to meet you."

He held her hand for a few seconds longer before releasing it. The drawn out way he said "pleasure" made her uncomfortable. Nevermind his surname was "Minamoto", a four-syllable name connected to unlimited prestige.

As though by magic, pair of champagne glasses appeared in his hand. He offered her one, which she accepted. Minamoto asked, "Are you a benefactor of Polytech? Employee?"

"Actually, I'm a guest."

He slowly raised his glass to his lips. "Of whom, if I may ask?"

"President Kaiba."

"President Kaiba!" Minamoto repeated with mild surprise. "I was unaware he had any venture in Polytech…"

Venture. Avril read into his sentence more closely than Minamoto realized; "venture" stuck out to her. Perhaps Kaiba didn't want anyone to know exactly what business he had with Polytech. It was better to err on the side of caution. "Actually, I know he is familiar with the president of Polytech; that he has a 'venture' here is just a common…speculation."

"You're a good liar. But with all due respect to your host"--he gave a cheerful laugh--"Seto Kaiba is no social butterfly. He executes business for the purity of capitalism: the highest possible reward for the least possible expense. If he has no venture yet, he is certainly interested…"

I agree, Avril thought, tasting the champagne. But she told him, "I hate to encourage your delusions."

Her bite of a reply made him smirk. "Whether or not Kaiba has successfully picked a venture, he has successfully picked a guest, and a very beautiful one at that."

"You give me more compliment than I deserve, Mr. Minamoto." Given you're trying to suck up to me. Little ass-kisser.

"Not at all. You're quite charming. Tell me--how do you find Kaiba Corp? How do you find Kaiba as a president?"

Avril felt uncomfortable. He was too willing to speak with her compared to these other hobnobbing elites, who could tell she was something "other" than they.

Then, Minamoto's expression tensed a little. Avril knew Kaiba was behind her; nobody could put a cold chill in people like he could. "At pleasure to see you again, Seto," Minamoto said quietly. "Konban-wa."

"Evening to you too, Minamoto," Kaiba said curtly. "Interfering in my business again?"

"Not at all, Seto. Why would you suggest such a ridiculous--?"

"If I remember clearly, I promised my fist would act as a plunger down your throat if you didn't learn to mind your own business." Avril's spine stiffened at the sound of cracking knuckles. "If you'd like to escape that fate, I advise you to run your ass out of this banquet hall in the next fifteen seconds, and counting, fourteen…"

Minamoto won the record for the fastest running man in the country.

Kaiba physically turned Avril around and demanded, "What did he ask you and what did you tell him?"

"First of all, you can get your hands off me."

Kaiba folded his hands under his arms. "And?"

She explained their brief conversation. He made a rare grin and chuckled softly. "Typical."

"What--I mean, who is Minamoto exactly?"

"A snake."

"You use this noun a lot. He's a snake in what way?"

"In ways like slithering into the private matters of other companies," Kaiba said lethally, although he still had an amused grin, "and serving as an informant to his patrons. Information is crucial to business. In a capitalist market, if the wrong person gets hold of a company's precious information, the company is at the mercy of the informant. Minamoto's done it before, too."

Avril rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly. Did she say something wrong?

Kaiba chuckled again. "You're a psychology major, right?"

She looked up at him with surprise. "Yes."

"You'll make a good psychologist."

There again, another surprise compliment. Avril was still surprised; how did he know she was a psych major? She asked him.

"Remember when I called you a few weeks ago, Nelle?" he reminded her, as if she were slow. "And you said you were getting ready for a developmental psych class."

"But still, how did you know it was my major and not just say, my elective?"

"I just know, is that enough?"

Is he reading into me? She wondered seriously. His faded grin turned into a sour expression. "Stop looking at me like that, woman. And you're dripping champagne on the floor."

Avril had been holding her glass at her wrist in the way of a hammer since Minamoto left. She muttered something about getting a napkin, but Kaiba said sharply, "There's someone else who'll do that. Come. Dinner's starting. We've table 16."

They walked to number 16, past waiters and waitresses that navigated between millionaires and queen bees like drones. Number 16, a table of four, was already occupied by a sixty-year-old man with speaking rough English and a beautiful young woman with stick-straight blonde hair and wide gray eyes. Then, without warning, Kaiba used his elbow to push her in a direction away from number 16. But it was too late; for whatever reason he wanted to avoid the incongruent couple, the woman already noticed him and raised her hand in greeting.

"Seto!" Her voice was annoying and shrill.

Kaiba gave a brief nod at the woman without stopping. "Keep walking, Nelle," he whispered. "Number eleven. It has two seats open. Go!"

"Seto! This is your table, isn't it? Your place cards are here."

"Shit," he swore under his breath.

They turned around. As they approached the table, the woman ran up to Kaiba and wrapped her arms around his neck. Kaiba wanted to recoil; this was more PDA than he was comfortable with. "Oh, Seto!" she cried in English. "Such a long, long, long, long, long time! Positively ages!"

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "It's been two years." Still a leech, I see, he thought bitterly. He regarded the man, who remained seated and a little concentrated on his plate. "And how are you, Stevens?" Kaiba asked loudly.

"What?" Stevens said loudly.

The woman glanced at Avril and wore a tight smile. "I'm afraid we haven't made proper introductions. I'm Cristina Schwartz-Hitzig. Seto and I are quite close."

"Quite close" meaning what? Behind her, Kaiba visibly cringed. Avril introduced herself. "Avril Nelle, very pleased to meet you."

"Oh, an American are you?" Cristina giggled. "I thought you were perhaps something else, like one of those exotic drinks they're serving at the minibar, if not one of the Chilean party over there."

Oh, now I'm an exotic drink, am I? Avril decided not to get into her heritage. Cristina introduced the man, who was to only Avril's shock, Cristina's fiancé, Stevens Braymer. "Don't mind him, he's a little deaf in the ear," Cristina told them, but neglecting to mention he was a little senile. "Dinner should be served soon; you both must sit down!"

Avril noticed Kaiba's extreme discomfort, despite the constraint in his composure. Maybe she could divert the situation to give him time to figure a way out of dining with Cristina but without offending her. Avril sat down beside Cristina, whose smile was a little too earnest, and then turned to Kaiba:

"Um, Mr. Kaiba, would you mind, um, getting me a drink?"

"What would you like?" Kaiba said quickly. Then, before she could answer, "Piña Colada it is."

He disappeared as quickly as Minamoto. Avril was amazed. Cristina hovered over her shoulder, smiling. Avril smiled hesitantly back.

"So, you are Seto's new…love interest?"

Avril flushed, completely taken aback. "Excuse me?"

A representative of Polytech began a long, boring speech while the waiters served the first course: hot soup with a hibiscus bloom tucked near the spoon. Cristina peeled a petal from the flower and nibbled on it before drinking her soup. "In your opinion, how is he as a lover?"

"You're mistaken. My relationship with Mr. Kaiba is purely professional and platonic." Avril drank down a spoonful of soup while drinking down the desire to twist her fork in Cristina's ear. The woman was insolent.

Cristina batted her eyelashes charmingly. "Professional as in escort slash…dance instructor?"

Avril said nothing. How did she know? Cristina giggled and answered this question: "I used to have the position, dear Avril." She reached for a glass of champange and lifted it to her lips. "Two of three of Kaiba's paramours have had the position, therefore I expected you to be his new interest." She parted another flower petal. "He is quite adept in the art of seduction."

How corny. "As I've said, that's not the case."

"Well, when you do find out," the woman continued airily, "you will love his six-pack. I know he looks rather like a twig without those trench coats and turtlenecks, but he's quite fit. Everything. The whole package. Even the--"

Avril stopped Cristina's graphic point. "Excuse me, Ms. Schwartz-Hitzig, but I must ask you to stop, or else I will spill champange on your dress."

That shut her up. Satisfied, Avril had questions herself. "So you are engaged?"

"Oh, yes," Cristina snapped. "Stevens and I are very, very happy."

"When is the wedding?"

"The month is to be determined. And you shan't be invited if Seto wants to come."

"It just happens that I have something to do in the month to be determined," Avril replied coolly, "and won't be able to come anyway." Avril folded her napkin and set it on the table. "I think Mr. Kaiba's having trouble finding our table. I'll go look for him." She walked to the bar, where Kaiba was sitting there with his elbows propped on the counter and a sullen look on his face.

"You couldn't take that idiot either, could you?" Kaiba said boorishly.

"I think she's mental," Avril replied simply, "and should be used as a case study."

"To put it lightly! What did she say?"

"She thought we were lovers."

If only that were true, Kaiba thought. "Feh."

The bartender asked Avril, "Would you like a drink, miss?"

"A colada, no liquor, thanks," Avril told him. She looked over her shoulder at Kaiba. "Why would a savvy, no-nonsense CEO get mixed up with a dimwitted airhead?"

"I like your lack of pronouns to ask into my business, Nelle," he said waspishly, "and your psychological logic is obvious to a raccoon."

The bartender gave her the drink. She chewed on the slice of mandarin orange. "You can choose to answer it or not. I can't make you do anything."

I beg to differ, he thought again, wishing to touch her smooth shoulders, neck, and back. "What I tell you, Nelle, if you ever reveal it to anyone…"

"Secret's safe."

He lowered his voice and indicated for her to come closer; it would preserve his privacy and bring him as close to her as he could get without compromising his perceived aloofness to her. "She had your position about two, three years ago."

"She told me that."

Kaiba decided to cut through everything that happened in the middle--Saturday nights in one of the spare guest rooms. "Next thing I know," he continued, "she tells me she's engaged and needed advice about her fiancé. She 'planned' to marry that geezer years ago."

"The same hasn't happened for two out of three of your dance instructors, has it?"

"Where the hell did you get them from? Her," he thought bitterly. "I see."

"I think I've gotten too involved in your business. Nevermind me."

Someone made an announcement, that the stage hall was now open for dancing. Avril finished her drink and watched the elites sway into the "stage hall". She was interested in this--why was dance such an important element for companies nowadays? Inside there was an orchestra who played the dance classic of all classical music: "The Blue Danube." Kaiba and Avril had actually memorized entire steps to the piece, because it was so common.

"How long are we supposed to be here?" she whispered as they turned in revolving arcs.

Kaiba shrugged. "Not long. There's still desert and closing speeches…"

"That's an unusual setup."

"Well, this company isn't known for its organizational skills."

"Keep your posture, posture…"

The orchestra was very talented; slowly, one by one, each musician changed to the notes of "Orpheus in the Underworld"--this piece was much faster, but the transition was smooth. Avril mouthed at Kaiba, "follow me," and they had to change the pace of their steps to fit the piece's tempo. Other couples looked at from the orchestra to Kaiba and Avril with uncertainty and surprise. Kaiba looked back at them with arrogance. A few of these wannabes were people who in some way tried to stain his reputation. One of them--the print journalist with the moustache and ridiculous tux--published several reports about how Kaiba Corp's violent games "targeted" children. And the smut in the wig standing next to him told to Moshi-Moshi Magazine that he was bigamous. Two wannabes here were jealous of his talent in Duel Monsters and accused him of cheating. How he liked to see that look on their faces! Yes, Seto Kaiba has refinement even for the likes of you stuck-up bastards; none of you were self-made and had to kill yourselves to survive… You're all just lesser versions of Gozaboru--

"Keep your feet out of my way," Kaiba snapped when he stepped on her foot.

Avril glared at him briefly as he spun her several times. He was getting on her last damn nerve…at least the salary was good…

The band quickly transitioned again to Symphony 9. A few bystanders got together in couples and tried to dance, but no one was quite as good as Mr. Kaiba and his partner. The woman who sported a wig snorted contemptuously at Kaiba. "What will he impress us with next? Glass blowing?"

"He is quite talented, though," the vice-president of Polytech reminded her. "You have to admit."

You have to admit, the woman thought waspishly, because he's your patron.

"That's enough," Kaiba muttered after about twenty minutes. "I'm leaving."

Avril looked at him with surprise. "Do you never stay to the end of your own parties?"

"I have accomplished what needed to be accomplished. Now if you will mind your own business, we will leave right now." Contrary to his rude explanation, Kaiba politely offered his arm to her. Avril accepted it, and they walked out the hall with eyes watching them.

--

Moshi-Moshi is used when Japanese say "hello" but only over the phone. Therefore, for this magazine, Moshi-Moshi suggests gossip so hot that you have to pick up the phone and call somebody…corny.

Mosquitoes I know the word "paparazzi" is commonly used but I wanted to point out that it's Italian for mosquitoes.

Konban-wa means good evening.

Next chapter--stay tuned!