Wai! I am alive! XDD I still think I'm six feet under, but then again, it's still great to be alive once more XD
APOLOGIES! I know I am such a bad author for not keeping up with my schedules.. :O Kick me! T.T How long was I gone? T.T Suddenly, it seems like ages since I wrote the previous chappie.
THANKS! Loads of reviews, wah, I didn't expect this much feedback :tears of endless joy: ;p
Chapter 9's "kiss" is from the bright mind of AngelicTransmition. Though I've been thinking of writing something like that as well, she gave me a head start XD. Thanks so much!
On the other hand, I owe a lot of you some individual replies. It's about the only thing I could think of to compensate for my utter lack of fast-updating abilities. XD Here are some from the most recent reviewer:
To Shaylan: nod: I agree with you there. Seto does not know what REALLY hit him. He was probably expecting a more obedient Yami, but we know that's impossible. Hehe. Sometimes, not everything translates well from the theoretical framework to the actual scenario. XD
To Mishiko Shinsei: I am glad that you liked this story! Sorry for the late update though.. :sweatdrops:
To Alurine Shadowsong: Yay! Another rabid SYY fan:hugs: Our numbers should be increasing! Mehehehe :evil:
To Icesphere: I have to admit, cliffhangers are fun. XD But I do apologize I left it hanging for SO long T.T
To Silverwingdragon: Joey's sister might make an appearance.. I am not so sure yet. But I assure you Joey is still in this fic, along with everyone else's. For now, we are inside the Kaiba mansion XD I should update faster T.T
To Telpei: Thanks so much! We shall soon see if the two shyall kiss :wink wink: The woman Yami is impersonating will be introduced in a series of flashbacks... but I'm leaving the story open for more instances to happen XD Yes, one of these days...Seto will blurt out Mutou... XDD
To AngelicTransmition:waves back at you for a year as well: Hehe, thanks so much for that! Hmm.. I'll think of that suggestion... it's sounds a lot of crack! XDD
To tsuhiyo: Yep, some people are telling me the plot comes from a movie. But it's okay. :D I always wanted to do something like this, though it looks like someone beat me to it first XD Thanks so much!
I missed out on some reviewers.. I apologize. I will get back to all of you when I find more time. I could probably e-mail you if something would come up :D
EVERYONE is rooting for a KISS! Now, I better not delay this long overdue chapter, so here we go!
But first: my disclaimer XDD
Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.
Some words of caution, though: If you're a yaoi-hater and not so keen on Prideshipping, this story isn't for you. I am a S/Y fan all the way, and personally, they're a pairing that makes a whole lot of sense when you read anything on the series and manga, despite the latter's lack of feeling and depth. Pfft, what the hell. :D
.oOo.
Chapter 10: Maitre 'dBoth of them paled.
Yami could only look incredulously back at Mokuba, whose pale blue eyes shone brightly in response. There was just something about the young boy's eyes that would make anyone do anything for him…
…it was just that he was asking for too much. Like asking the sun to set in the east.
Yami could also sense that Seto was not enthusiastic about the idea either. Their silence was so uncomfortable that it sent Yami to back away to widen their proximity only to find that he mistook a step…
…and landed straight into Seto's arms. Apparently, the latter has quick reflexes, something the businessman wasn't sure if having it was an advantage or not at the moment.
'Oh shit,' Yami cursed in his thoughts, practically hating his stars for landing him in such a position – literally and figuratively. He immediately avoided the other's glance and thanked – for the first time – his limp black hair for covering his pink-tinged ears.
"Be careful," Seto said in a surprisingly-concerned voice. Seeing that Yami was clearly looking away from him, he saw this as an opportunity to plant a small peck on the other's cheek. Real quick.
It was at that same time when Yami shifted his face to look at Seto.
Big mistake.
.oOo.
Yami had to admit: it was the fastest sprint of his life. He did not even bother watching the limousine took off, in which a happier Mokuba sat and a highly offended Seto glowered visibly.
'At least some people are happy this morning,' Yami thought bitterly, and he wasn't just pertaining to Mokuba; a maid waiting on them outside the main door giggled appreciatively as the scene played before her eyes.
He rounded a corner somewhere in the third floor when he decided to stop to catch his breath. It was a very disconcerting feeling: his heart was beating fast. He knew it was from running too fast in a small period of time… he willed it to think that way more than anything else.
With great difficulty, he found the bedroom both he and his "husband" shared.
"Day One and I'm starting to feel like I want to quit this god-forsaken job," he said aloud, confident that no one could hear him. He flopped down on the soft plush mattress. At the very least he was breathing normally again.
Suddenly, a phone rang. Frowning, he got up to answer it.
A crisp and annoyed voice started from the other line. "Never do that again."
"Consider that a mental note to yourself, since you're the one who swooped down and kissed me," Yami retorted, careful to stress the word 'kiss' as if it was the most vile thing ever existed.
Yami could feel Seto was positively fuming but the latter kept his temper at bay. "You must assume, that my son will most likely expect this thing to happen on a regular basis." Seto couldn't believe he was saying this.
And neither was Yami. "What do you mean 'on a regular basis'?" he could barely control the volume of his voice. "KISS YOU EVERYDAY! You're raving mad, Kaiba!"
Seto glared at his phone. "And you think I enjoy liplocks with you? Please. Do not presuppose that you're the only one here suffering, Mutou, because I feel twice as sick as you do."
"Why you—" Yami almost hurled back an insult when he stopped himself just in time. There was no point in engaging in verbal squabbles; after all, Seto was only a father who wanted his son to be happy. He closed his eyes to let his anger simmer down. "Okay Kaiba, point taken. And now you suggest we do something about this?"
Seto's voice returned to his usual businesslike timbre. "First of all, we must refrain from all these… incessant fighting. There is a tendency to accede to our respective tempers. My point simply: to co-exist despite our… differences."
"Yes," the other replied in a hollow voice, knowing very well this rule will only hold out as long as their extremely short fuses can take. Which would amount to approximately 0.5 seconds. Or less.
"Second, we should have an orchestrated and premeditated means of addressing ourselves in the presence of everybody, most especially in front of my son –"
"I thought we already have a pet name for each other, right dear?" Yami raised an eyebrow.
"—not to mention rehearsed acts of …" Seto had to place a lot of his willpower to continue. "…intimacy."
Yami's stomach did a somersault. "Er, right." He did not wish to find out what could qualify as "rehearsed acts of intimacy". Seto's knack for euphemisms was unnerving him.
The businessman now sounded like he was reading from grocery list – and an unusual grocery list at that – except his stomach was churning uncomfortably. "This include holding hands, putting an arm on one's shoulder, sitting close to each other, embracing…" He stopped before he could further embarrass himself and said impatiently, "Look Mutou, I don't have to recite everything; you ought to have understood what I meant."
Yami shrugged. "Well, no one asked you to anyway." He groaned inwardly. First rule broken.
Seto was thinking along the same lines. But sheer pride coursed openly in a Kaiba's veins, thus overriding the rule that was only made not too long ago. "I did you a huge favor; you don't even have the appropriate cranial capacity to comprehend what qualifies as intimate, let alone understand what exactly is intimacy."
Whatever regret he felt for breaking the first rule, it had disappeared instantly. "Go to hell, Kaiba," Yami shot back.
"No need to tell me. I am already in one."
"And if you place your foul lips on mine again – which is an intimate act by the way, something I don't intend on doing with you – I'll dismember you."
The proud CEO let out a derisive snort. "Dream on, Mutou. That won't even happen again. Ever."
And without further ado, each terminated the call with gusto.
.oOo.
Feeling grumpy makes me hungry. I believe I burned a fat lot of calories just by verbally dueling with that Kaiba jerk.
Rehearsed acts of intimacy…
This whole role-playing is starting to take a toll on me. 'Reality bites', that's what most would say, and I think this so-called reality has taken a big chunk out of me. Mental images are very disturbing too. Who would embrace and hold hands with a self-important git like Kaiba? I mean, seriously? I think it was more and more apparent that Kaiba having a wife long ago was some extreme time paradox. Plus, Mokuba doesn't look like anything like his father.
And Kaiba wants to act like we love each other to bits towards everybody. That includes Mokuba and the rest of the whole wide world. If I were an actor in this twisted play, I would've happily resigned. That girl servant a while ago loved that star-studded performance, which is not a good sign. An instant shipper, it seems. If Kaiba alone is one paparazzi magnet, I shudder to think that going out with me will attract people by the droves. I have seen enough gossip magazines (I was searching for any job then, mind you) to say that the whole of Domino is rooting for Kaiba to have a love life. Pathetic, really.
I miraculously found the dining hall where I saw a couple of maids and a young butler chattering. The butler saw me first and nudged the others. All of them fell silent and proceeded to bow.
"How may we help you, Madam?" he asked.
"Er…I was wondering where could the fridge be…" I found myself stammering.
"Oh, you fancy a bit of brunch, Madam?"
"Uh, yeah-yes please. Just some light bread and water." Somehow, my disguise would have to belong to a prim and proper lady. Hence, no pigging out. Bummer.
"Right away, madam," Butler Boy bowed yet again. As they turned to leave, I saw the maids, eyeing me with an amused expression scribbled across their faces. Looks like someone had already spread the word.
More shippers. More fangirls. Great. (1)
.oOo.
Yami basically bummed around inside the big house. True, the mansion may be teeming with people, but somehow, it felt disconcertingly quiet. The television, interesting as it seem to be (and high-end too), failed to entertain him. He then decided to look around some more and see for himself what this mansion has to offer.
The first thing he did was to visit the kitchen. He might not look like it, but Yami prided himself as a good –if not excellent - cook. Years of preparing something for Yugi before he goes off to school taught him that. The chefs might be able to fill him in on what constitutes as a good and bad recipe.
Needless to say, the kitchen staff was stunned to see him. There was a flurry of movement as they hastily made room for the surprise visitor.
"No, it's okay," said Yami over the din of clanging pots and pans. "Just want to see what sort of things you cook."
This made the staff panic even more.
As he peered over the shoulders of nervous cooks, Yami could understand why everyone looked extremely uneasy. He had heard a few of some fleeting and hushed conversations among the other servants:
"Why is the madam here?"
"I don't know. Why don't you ask her?"
"And get fired by Kaiba-sama? No way!"
"Kaiba-sama does not even dare go here…"
"Get the hell back to your work!" A woman poked his co-worker painfully in the ribs. They smiled uneasily at Yami before resuming their work.
A male cook seemed to be in command of the kitchen; he looked and clearly exuded elderly wisdom. He has gray streaks of hair mixed with platinum blond strands sticking out his hat. Yami felt himself smile as the cook let out a hearty chuckle as he sliced some potatoes.
"Madam, it's a surprise to see you down here," he said.
Surprised that the cook actually spoke to him, Yami hesitantly replied. "Something better to do, I guess. I always want to see other people cook." He managed to let out a small, girly laugh.
"Very nice to hear that!" The cook's voice boomed as he spoke. "I'd like to think that women are a sure natural when it comes to the kitchen, eh?"
Yami almost blurted out something in disagreement. "Oh, I think so too…"
"Seto was against that idea, that little shrimp." The cook was now stirring something in the pot. " 'Used to say men are better cooks anywhere. A chauvinist, even at a young age. But he's just a frustrated cook. Never got around to learn decent recipes because his father riled on him to study his ass off."
Yami found this sudden bout information quite revealing. 'This guy calls Kaiba by his given name… and a little shrimp to boot!' The cook, sensing the young one's surprise, said, "Haha, been here since forever in case you're wondering, ever since Seto was still peeing in his bedsheets."
"Very amusing." Yami practically choked out his words as he struggled to wave off a mental image of a young Seto in wet PJ's. 'And Kaiba is a frustrated cook?' he mused in his thoughts.
"Stuck through with them Kaiba family members. Cooked their meals day in and day out. Seto grew up never believing in fancy restaurants, insisted that everything he eats has to be made by yours truly."
"Spoiled brat," Yami said in a gleeful voice.
The heavyset cook laughed and continued. "So there, I cook everything for them all, every single event of his life, heck, even on his wedding day…" The cook stopped, as if he had trodden on something not intended for the conversation. Instead, he feigned a cough.
"Ah, right. So what else would you like to learn here in the kitchens, madam?"
.oOo.
WEEK ONE. Whoa. I never thought I'd survive this long. Then again, just a measly week had passed. More to go then.
Fortunately, there was a LOT of things to do to while away the time spent inside the mansion. Like recipe-taking in the kitchen. Or Art Studies in the lavish Kaiba art collection. Or looking at the expansive garage that housed cars that existed only in myth. And many more. Kaiba was all the more supportive of this (he pushed me out of the room while he said this). Said he wanted me to make a good impression inside his house anyway. And the added distance was more of a welcome bonus.
However, Mokuba was more perceptive than we gave him credit for. He started asking if we guys fought (with teary eyes). And then he started being upset because there was little…uh… "family time" spent, in which he insisted that we go out on picnics, amusement parks, and lots more. I was almost expecting the kid to request that we all do a big family hug. Eurgh, God have mercy.
Hence there was a need for those dreadful "rehearsed acts of intimacy".
WEEK TWO. You don't know how uncomfortable it gets when Kaiba starts discussing how to do it exactly. But nothing in this whole "practice" prepared us for the "real thing". I know it sounds oddly contradictory, since both us are obviously faking, but delivering these rehearsed acts of intimacy in front of a live audience is pure mental torture. Some days I have to reach up to his height to kiss him, while saying "Have a good day, dear!" in the sweetest voice I could muster. And then there are some days when Kaiba would put his arm around me while the three of us watch at the den. And then we would accompany Mokuba back to his room and then wish him goodnight.
At the end of the day, as we go crawl back to the bedroom, we drop our love-smitten faces and started hating each other all over again. It's a surprise that we still find time to bicker in the middle of the night when we're exhausted the whole day trying to keep this charade as best as we can.
Worst is, everybody is buying our act. I don't know if we act so well that people are so damn convinced. I couldn't possibly be that good an actor. Either that or Mokuba was just being polite. But the look on his face tells me otherwise.
.oOo.
Three weeks have passed since this whole thing with Mutou began. I am surprised we have come this far. I do not feel very confident of our acting, yet all is well for some dubious reason. I have seen great improvement in my son these days.
Our efforts are not in vain. Yet I can't help but think it may just be a deceptive calm hanging over us. A calm before a big storm.
.oOo.
Yami was dutifully attending to Mokuba's study period. The Kaiba mistress borrowed the idea from his younger brother, who also followed the same study regimen: Three hours solely dedicated to homework. Or more. Yami lugged around a clipboard, as if a nurse doing her daily rounds to monitor the various allotted time per subject. He also gave himself the responsibility to give mock exams, reading comprehension exercises, and practice quizzes just to be sure. Much to his delight, the young Kaiba heir is a sharp young boy who produced excellent results. Due to this, Yami, having as much power as Seto in this household, had dismissed the boy's tutors.
When Seto heard about this news a week before, he was not amused. "You what?" his voice slashed through the silent room.
"It's a waste of money, in case you're wondering."
"Mind you, Mutou. The ones I hired are professionals – a stark difference from your amateur abilities as a pathetic tutor."
"Mokuba would most likely want to learn from a familiar person, not from a total stranger."
"And you're familiar?"
Yami fixed Seto a glare. "I'm his mother. It doesn't get any familiar than that."
And with that, their conversation ended. Yami could say it was his victory. Oddly enough, he found the sentence "I'm his mother" quite... unsettling.
He was flipping through the pages of the book when a piece of paper fell out of it. He picked it up and with brows furrowed, read what was on it.
"Mokuba, how come you didn't tell me something was up?" Yami asked in a gentle voice, since he was anxious that the boy might feel being reprimanded.
True enough, Mokuba looked uneasy. "I- I'm sorry, Mommy."
Yami sighed, but he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's okay," he said.
Mokuba shifted his gaze to his side. "I didn't think Daddy wants to go. He never goes there anyway."
.oOo.
"I think you better read this," Yami said as waved the paper in front of Seto. The latter was busy looking at the company's sales report on his laptop.
"Can't you see what I'm doing?" Seto glared at the other through his glasses. He swatted the paper away.
"Your sales report will have to wait," Yami replied as he resolutely waved the paper in front of Seto. "This is more pressing."
Grumbling, the brunet fixed a smoldering look at his roommate before snatching what he was holding.
A few seconds later, Seto's already-boiling blood suddenly went a couple of notches higher. "You interrupted me just to show me this?"
"Well, I find this very important, you know," Yami interjected, placing his arms on his waist. "PTA - ring any bells?"
Seto stared insolently back at him.
Flipping his long black hair impatiently, Yami cried exasperatedly. "Hello? Am I getting to you or something? Parent Teacher Association?"
"I know what PTA means, Mutou!" Seto fired back. "I don't see how this concerns me."
Yami gritted his teeth in reply. "How about the lines 'we are looking forward to your participation' sound to you?"
"You know very well I am busy."
Yami raised an eyebrow. "You know, I'm not surprised that your son does even bother telling you this."
Seto closed his laptop's lid shut and turned to him. "I'm not surprised you're this clueless, Mutou," he said. "My participation in the PTA does not simply manifest in something as trivial as physical attendance. I have given a great deal of money to launch their projects, suggested extensive operational plans to last them a lifetime, and sent the best specialists to audit their organization. You realize, Mutou, I have contributed vastly than any other parent in that association combined."
It took Yami a few seconds before he could say something. "I'm sure the PTA is more than grateful of your valuable contribution, Your Highness," he started. "I simply think that you could simply show up as a sign of good will." 'Which is way better than your financial contribution, something you seem to slap on everyone's faces constantly,' he added as an afterthought, though he did not say it out loud.
"Lo and behold, Mutou," Seto retorted. "In case you haven't noticed, I have a whole corporation to manage."
Yami knew he was hitting a dead end. "So you're doing nothing about it?"
"Look, if it bothers you so much, then go to that goddamn meeting," Seto said with a hint of finality.
"What? Me?" Yami almost shouted at the mention of this suggestion. He didn't like where the conversation was going.
"What's the matter?" Seto asked in a deceptively innocent voice. "You're Mokuba's mother, aren't you?"
.oOo.
To Be Continued
Notes: (1) Yes, the maid represents all of us. We are shippers! Whee! XDD
I do hope I get to update at once. ((cries)) So don't leave me! T.T
What's in Chapter 11? Yami and the PTA... what awaits our hesitant hero/ine? And then the Kaiba mistress is thrown to a more daunting situation: The HIGH SOCIETY. And the press is not a merciful creature at all. How will Seto deal with this matter? And Mokuba wants to go out with his parents on top of that too.
REVIEWS! Keep 'em coming, since I feed on them XD And I could get really great ideas from all of you. ;p Questions, comments, suggestions, rants, death threats are more than welcome XD
Thanks so much for reading!
Aoi Rakuen (Blue Paradise)