Chapter 10

Plan to Fail

Authors note: Well, that was sweet. But a little out of character for our sexy bad ass Kaiba. Allow me to qualify 'sweet'. BTW, YES there is going to be some seriously graphic sexy time melting your brains in a few chapters. How soon? Very. (BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!)

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Seto point of View

There, I'd said it. Partially, anyway. I waited for a moment, listening intently to the gentle sounds of the rumbling elevator. I was trying to distance myself from the situation, so that the sting of her rejection wouldn't phase me. I was expecting her to laugh at me.

She did not.

She was surprised, but not amused. She looked happy. She smiled at me. Not in that mocking way that I had been expecting. It looked genuine. I couldn't bare to have her looking at me like that, so I turned away. I felt her soft, small hand take one of mine, and looked at her sideways.

"Is this true, Seto?" She asked quietly. "Do you truly like me, as I like Yuya?"

"Yes." I whispered. God this was embarrassing.

She wrapped her arms around my side.

"If you truly like me then I will try to like you as well." She said lightly.

I turned and wrapped my arms around her,tucking my chin over her shoulder. I wanted to keep her close to me, just like this. She had accepted me, despite all of the things that I had done, she wanted to try to like me.

We weren't in love, but we were inching our way towards friendship. I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I fought it, and kept my face as unaffected and stoic as possible. I saw that the elevator was nearing the top floor. So, I leaned down and kissed her forehead.

It was unreal. I had gained her acknowledgement by being half-honest.

Who could have thought?

But, I had lost the duel. That meant that she was going to have Yuya first. That's who she cared about, truly, and who she wanted to give herself to. Unfortunately, I did not feel like sharing.

Yes, I had agreed to allow it.

No, I was not planning to honor it.

I had spent the weeks leading up to our duel thinking, planning, and calculating how I would influence her. I knew that I could manipulate her dreams by speaking to her in her sleep. I also knew, from my studies, that subtleties such as touch, scent, or even word choice were effective. I used everything.

I made it a habit to speak to her everyday. I greeted her, with hushed but even tones, and kept my voice as low as I could. Even if she didn't say so, I could tell she found my raspy baritone seductive. I spoke only soft words to her, though I maintained my personality.

"Your Japanese has improved, somewhat." When I joined her for breakfast.

"The curls suit your head shape." Before she left for classes.

"It's cold. You may wear my jacket." When I saw her heading for the door.

She reacted to my comments and half complements with the same cool indifference, on the surface, at least. I could pick up on the subtle hints of her spike in attention.

The way she paused before saying "Thanks. I've been working on it."

When she half smiled and replied "They should, considering I was born with curly hair."

Or even when she looked into my eyes, not at them, as I shed my iconic trench coat and draped it over her shoulders. She still searches for something in the ocean of my pupils, but I have masked them well. She saw what I wanted her to see. Quiet concern, gentle, honest complements, and even primitive desire. She took it all, hook,line and sinker. But she was not naive. She always defaulted back to wary, cautions disinterest, on the surface.

I made sure to touch her body as subtly as possible, gaining her trust and comfort. I would brush her lower arm when we spoke. Lean over her when she was reading alone. Lying beside her for hours, awake while she slept, without her knowing. Holding her warm body to my own.

I remember, the first night I spent in her bed.

I came into her bedroom, near three, and stood in the doorway for half an hour. She was fast asleep, but lacking the peace that I fed off of. She tossed, and turned, and even moaned. I sat down, at the foot of the bed and observed. I noted that her hair was French braided, and she was wearing the pajamas I'd given her on our wedding night. It gave me a sense of pride, seeing the proud, indifferent Rachiaida Costa dressed in what I had given her. No, her name was no more. Her identity was absorbed into mine. She would be known only as Lady Kaiba to the world.

The beautiful, exotic, American woman who would only be seen representing myself.

The thought of her only existing with me... It was truly intoxicating.

I laid down beside my lady, and pulled her, gently, into my chest. And suddenly, she shuddered. Her body went stiff, then relaxed into mine. I chanced wrapping an arm around her middle, and pulling her even closer. She moved, willingly. So, I smiled.

I was her comfort.

I had familiarized her body to mine.

I need not fear her rejection, any longer.

Her skin lusted after mine, not Yuya's. And I planned to oblige.

But, not tonight. I needed her need to be greater, and I had made it so. Sleeping with her, forcing her lust after my voice, my touch... I could only imagine how her body would pleasure her, with my slightest touch. I knew that even if she won her duel, she would want me.

Her body had been trained to love my touch. She was mine, even though she did not know. I had won her mind, and her body with simple strategy, not by force. Conceding the victory, and giving her back her freedom had been my ulterior act of chivalry, and, for her, an affirmation of my allusions. She would come to the conclusion that I cared for her, and then she would believe she cared for me also.

Now I needed only to wait.

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Rachiaida Point of View

I found myself sitting on my Venetian bed, staring at the blinds over the window. I tried to clear my mind, but, slowly, things crept back.

Kaiba's voice echoed silently on the breeze, and with every creak of the house.

Kaiba's hands, though I couldn't recall having felt them, ghosted all over me.

Kaiba's scent, his warm, musky scent lingered all over my sheets, though I wasn't sure why.

I think that I want him. I know that I do not love him, but there is gravity. I can feel an aching longing as I sit here, late in the night, thinking about that damn Kaiba.

He had been just as misanthropic as before, yet different. HE was kinder, more concerned. HE didn't behave like an owner, or a boss.

He has been almost loving. I thought.

Ha! How delusional. Kaiba was not someone who understood love. He had probably never felt it, much less expressed it. Yet, his actions stood out. He tried to be a protector, provider, and reserved friend. Did he complement me to mock me? Possibly. But, it felt sincere. Did he try to assist me out of obligation? More than likely.

I would test him. I would ask him about his behavior and analyze it from there. He could lie, but I would know. I was going to answer the question that ate away at my mind.

What the hell does he want from me?

If he were after sex, given his personality, he would have taken it already. He would not have taken the time to give me a chance to give myself to anyone other than him.

Was that...love?

I pulled my knees into my chest and thought.

Is giving up what you want love? And then I paused.

Kaiba was territorial, to say the least. Allowing me to challenge him, and then simply handing his bride over to whomever I chose would be blasphemous. Yet, he'd done it.

Because he cares, or because he cares not?

I heard his words again

"If I can not win your affection, then there is no point..."

Had he not also said:

"I like you"

I closed my eyes and thought, weighing everything. And with a breath I'd held too long, I understood.

"Kaiba-San is in love with me... And I... lust."

It wasn't fair. He had more invested in me than I did. I had never even considered him. I had developed a greedy addiction to his flesh. When we brushed against each other, ever so slightly. Or, when I heard his slow baritone. I owed it to him, though I hated to say it, to try. Maybe this lusting was a result of something deeper. Maybe not. But I had to know, and so did he.

Once. I thought.

One passionate moment; one kiss, one touch, one sincere, experimental kiss would solve the problem

If he cares, he will ignite, and want more. And If he does not, then there will be only skin, no spark.

If I felt anything, then I would deal with it.

I sighed, and laid down to sleep, sniffing in the inexplicable trace of musk as I drifted to sleep.

I'll just get it out of my system. I can stop myself anytime I want.

I did not, however think of the one person who this longing should have belonged to. I was addicted to my lust. So, I stood up, and crept down the halls, pursuing my fix.

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Third Person Point of View

It was late when Rai crept out of her room and down the halls. She had something like a plan in mind. She was going to get the truth out of Kaiba, one way or another.

She walked as quietly as possible, purposely avoiding that floorboard that was always creaky. She did not want anyone to hear her. She came to the end of the hallway and paused. She was standing before a huge, solid, heavy looking set of wooden double doors. She noted the opposing twin blue eyes white dragons that were carved into the doors. This could only be his bedroom.

With a sigh, she turned the knob and opened the door just enough to slide in. She gently closed the door, enfolding herself in the darkness.