Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! However, I am claiming OCs I might have. I only accept constructive criticism.
Metempiricism
Chapter 10
What Should I Think?
"That's wonderful Aibou..." Yami paused briefly to allow Yugi's excited voice to yet again come through the phone. "Oh...oh...okay! Aibou, Aibou...Aibou, slow down." He chuckled at Yugi's bashful reaction before the boy continued on the wonderful news. "You have to go? She's coming back? Okay. Good luck Yugi." The line went dead in a quickly breathed 'bye' and Yami placed his cell-phone on his counter.
"Was that Yug'?" Joey asked from Yami's couch where he was in quite the slouched position, eyes glued to whatever was on TV.
"It was. He wanted to tell me of how his current trip in Tokyo is going." Yami once more went to cutting up ingredients along his cutting board.
"Tell us he finally told Tea the good news," Tristan said in an almost bored voice. He was strung across the piece of furniture, with his head resting on a pillow placed against the arm of the couch.
"He did."
"He did?" The two suddenly piped up. The twosome moved from the couch to the kitchen area, where they sat on the only two stools available at Yami's bar.
"Hm," Yami hummed in agreement. He slid the lettuce, tomato and onions into a bowl. "During lunch, he told her of his early acceptance into Tokyo University, and how he'll be moving down there in the Spring." Even though Yami was more than happy for his Little One, a part of him saddened with losing him to distance. A small bit of distance but distance nonetheless.
"So what she did she say?" Joey asked watching Yami's doings with barely contained hunger.
"Once she was told, her eyes moistened with tears." Yami moved to the oven and checked his falafel before going back to the counter. "But she had assured him they were of joy; she claimed to have felt burdened by their lack of close proximity."
"Way to go Yugi!" Tristan congratulated to the Universe.
"I'm glad Tea waited on our little guy—no, man." Joey nodded, "Yug's a man now. Way to get your broad." He and Tristan then began clapping as if the boy was there; even cheering and whooping. Yami chuckled at his friends before he began slicing perfectly thin pieces of steak. He then threw those pieces into the awaiting skillet. "Come on Maaaaaa! When will it be ready?" Joey whined as a small child would.
Tristan was also falling victim to all of the wonderful smells wafting from the kitchen. "Yeah Mommy! You won't like two hungry kids."
In true mother fashion, Yami didn't gift them with a response they wanted. "This is why I had to stop cooking for you all; such impatient miscreants." It was all said out of love and two knew it by the chuckles he received.
Staring down at the sizzling meat, he absentmindedly added spices to the pan as his mind landed on the very woman he had watched make the same meal. That same woman he had finally seen for mere moments at the passed Culture Fair. He didn't know what had been seen at the event, due to being distracted, but he was sure she had seen enough. He also felt like it was safe to assume, that she was aware of he and Kaiba's small scuffle. Not only because he was her lover, but also because she had been willing to show her face on Yami's turf. Yami knew she still cared, she really did. Kaiba's influence was stronger than he liked and he was upset with the idea, of Isis allowing him to get in the way of their friendship. But whether she cared or not, she had made her decision; it was finally time to move forward...for real.
His free hand ended up on his industrial piercing where he spun the long pure silver rod. He really needed to see her. Why? After a long pause the back of his mind yelled: Hankie! That was right—from that day in the park. He still had her hankie after all and surely she needed it back. He rolled his eyes at such a stupid reason to contact her. Obviously that little 'Isis cheerleader' within just would not stop rooting for her. But he was perfecting the art of ignoring it over the past few weeks. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt that, especially when he felt he had a chance with another.
"Mommy, the oven dinged!"
Yami turned to find Joey and Tristan was both nearly breathing down his back. "Back you savage creatures!" Quick on the draw, Yami produced a towel and went to winding it up, snapping both Joey and Tristan in the thighs.
"Shit Yam'!" Joey wailed as he tried to make a hasty but clumsy retreat with Tristan. "That fuckin' hurts!" He rubbed his leg soundly as he placed himself back on a stool.
"How the hell do you make it hurt so badly?" Tristan groused. "The end wasn't even wet and we have on jeans for goodness sake."
"I had practice," he said in a low voice before giving them a very serious look, "from whipping slaves." Tristan swallowed while Joey's face was twisted in a comedic look of fright. Yami allowed the hard face to linger a bit longer before his grinned, chuckling at the fearful faces.
"Dammit, I hate when you do that too," Tristan grumbled.
"You have to stop with the scary Pharaoh-shit man, it's just not fair." Joey watched as Yami moved the meat to a plate, before the falafel was taken out of the oven. "Okay, I forgive ya bud." Nothing would get in the way of Joey's free meal.
Soon after, the boys were positioned back in Yami's living room with plates balanced on their laps. Whole wheat pita filled with a thin coat of tahini and the onions, lettuce, and tomato and meat from earlier, sat against the dishes as well as the falafel balls sitting next to a spoonful of homemade hot sauce especially made for falafel. The ex-Pharaoh was sublimely taking in the finger food while his companions were like animals shown to the troughs. Despite the ravenous display, it did stroke his ego in regards to his cooking. He wasn't the best but when it came to Egyptian cuisine, he felt he did decently. It was the only type of food he had been able to make multiple times without burning, unlike ramen. A part of him was still embarrassed about ruining many of Mrs. Moto's pots. One Christmas he had replenished her with better expensive cookery and had vowed not to use them, ever.
It was from that time, whenever he happened to be with Is—his once friend, while she was in her kitchen, he paid attention. After the third time of taking mental notes, she had asked him to join her. From there he learned how to make many things. The growing know-how improved his kitchen confidence and Mrs. Moto took notice of this whenever she asked him and Yugi to help her for dinner. She had started seeing it as side project to teach Yami what she could. When he had finally decided to move out, that knowledge had increased in flow as she found it more than important he knew how to properly feed himself. He couldn't help but smile at how much Mrs. Moto took care of him. Even now, when he would see her, she would offer to do his laundry. Yami was grateful for her motherly love since even in his past life, none of it was experienced before his mother's untimely departure to the next world. A wet-nurse was the closest thing he received to a maternal hand and yet it was all done in business.
"Sooooo, Yam', how's the lady friend?" Joey wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.
"Eeehh, eeehh?" Tristan nudged Joey in the side with a great grin on his face, "Please share with the class Yami."
Yami eyed the half-eaten falafel ball on his plate and couldn't help but smirk, "It's been...fine? Yes, fine."
Joey rolled his eyes, "You sound like Mai when people ask about me."
"That's because no one really cares about how you are; they're just being polite."
Joey growled under his throat and stole a falafel ball off Tristan's plate. He felt his revenge had been properly taken, by the angry face Tristan was giving him. "Jerk..."
"What do you mean by 'fine' man?" Tristan redirected the conversation before he was fighting Joey on the couch.
"Though I have now allowed Tamiko presence romantically, we are not exclusive as of now. In light of that, we haven't worked too hard to make time for one another. I have seen her at school as expected, but we have not gone on a formal date yet."
"So when is that goin' down?" Joey asked.
Yami shrugged, "I am not sure." Tristan and Joey comically turned their heads in unison, to give the other a knowing look. Whipping their faces back to Yami, they glared without malice. For a moment Yami truly favored Yugi with his big-eyed expression and soft, "Yes?"
"Don't do this bud," Joey began, placing his plate on the coffee table. "I know what ya doin' Yam'."
"What conclusions are you jumping to?"
"You think just because you're giving Tamiko a chance, your work is done!" It was Tristan's turn to place his plate aside. "Well it's not. It's time to man up...man!"
"Yeah!" Joey agreed. The blonde stood up and headed to the back. Shuffling was heard and due to Joey's unpredictability Yami quickly went after him, with Tristan following behind. The two found Joey in the bedroom, sitting on his bed, unlocking his phone.
"What are you doing?" Yami asked in quite the subdued manner. He wasn't one to freak out over people taking his phone, since he didn't care for the item most of the time.
"Finding her number!" Standing up he walked over to Yami. "Call her and ask her on a date Yam'."
"Do it man, do it!" Tristan encouraged.
"I...I do not know—"
"Well it's too late because she just picked up!" Joey shoved the phone into Yami's hands. "Do it," he whispered.
"Hello...Yami?"
Yami heard Tamiko's voice coming through the device and quickly answered as not to be rude. "Hello Tamiko, how are you?" Tristan and Joey stood around him, straining their ears to hear. Yami assisted them by putting the phone on speaker.
"Fine...even better since you called..."
"Oooooooooo!" Joey and Tristan whispered at the sultry reply.
Keeping himself from getting flustered, Yami coolly replied, "Have you been waiting for my call?"
"I've been waiting for more than that..."
Joey gave a lecherous grin while Tristan had the nerve to mock rub his nipples through his shirt. Yami gave them a chastising look before continuing, "I was calling you to see if you'd like to go on a formal date with me." It came out as a statement rather than a request.
Giggling she let out a long breath, "I've been waiting for this. What did you have in mind?"
"Perhaps simply dinner and a movie?"
"The cliché first date—I like it. I'll pick the movie if you pick what you want to...put in my mouth." Tristan and Joey's mouths flew open at this and they leaned even further towards the phone.
Chuckling at the implication, the ex-pharaoh nodded. "Shall we say tomorrow evening at seven? We can meet at 'Mata Ashita' then go to the Cineplex nearby?"
"Awesome—I can't wait."
"As can I."
There was a pause—an appropriate pause. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Of course."
"...Bye." The phone screen went black.
Yami locked the device and placed it back on his side-table. Things were rolling now...he had a date the next day. A real date the next day—a real date, the next day, with a woman and that woman was Tamiko. Not Isis. The 'Isis cheerleader' placed their pom-poms away and left the field. This was Yami's time. He was ready, he really felt like he was ready. What was this feeling in his chest? Was he excited? Was he actually anticipating this? A smile crept across his lips and he realized he was. Turning to his friends, he went to share his newfound happiness and thanks for them pushing him. But his words stopped before reaching his lips.
"Joey...Tristan?" Joey and Tristan stood where he had left them, once more offering stares. But these were given in an intense way, coupled with sexual smirks. Yami wasn't sure if he was about to be raped or if someone would come in to do the deed, while they watched. He laughed at such an idea since he knew he could easily take them both, better yet an outside party they hired. Was this over-confidence he was feeling in a fantasized idea? Truly he was excited.
"Yam'..." Joey licked his lips his mouth suddenly going dry. His headed nodded multiple times while his lips attempted to form the words. Finally something came out, "She wants it pal. She wants IT."
"What?"
"Good luck," Tristan offered as he patted between the young adult's shoulder blades. "She's a feisty one."
Yami stood there with a look of perplexity as he watched the two head back down the hall. "Wait a moment." He caught up back with them in the living room where they were magically on their second plate. "It?"
"Yeah, IT Yami. She wants to sit on your throne, ride the royal stallion; have the king raid her castle—"
"THANK YOU Joey, since none of us could understand what 'it' means," Tristan mocked as he rolled his eyes at the shrugging blonde.
With a mouth full a food, he returned, "Whatever, I'm just trying to help Yami out."
Yami returned to his seat. "Hmmm..." The deep sound of consideration was accompanied with his feet planting flat on the floor. His left arm crossed his abdomen, supported the horizontal right arm, whose hand were strumming their fingers against his chin. His eyes looked upon the coffee table unseeing and his eyes narrowed slightly. Truly the posture of a prince contemplating his next move; Tristan and Joey in inadvertently left him to it as they somehow ended up in an argument over Serenity, as usual. While the two began hitting one another, Yami's head dove deeper into the sea of thought.
He knew Tamiko was well...a bit of a sex kitten. She did purr whenever he was around. An 'hmph' of the purest arrogance puckered his lips into a smirk. He sat further back into his chair and reminisced on all the looks and innuendo she had freely offered. It would be a bold face lie to say that didn't arouse something inside him. However, Yami was a gentleman. He would never kiss on the first date; better yet have crazy bunny sex on the first date. But would Tamiko try? He needed to prepare himself now to resist her if she did. Nodding to himself, he began building mental wall against any advances she would do. He would stick to his guns and he kept reminding himself, of how the many cons outweighed the few pros.
"My..." The other two didn't hear him and he didn't expect them to. The uttered work was created in a realization that not only baffled Yami, but almost threatened a headache. How he was able to simply skim the waters of thought, in regards to Tamiko while he nearly drowned in them, when brooding over Isis, was baffling. In a matter of moments, he had made a decision over her and didn't regret it, or feel the need to rethink things. How was this possible? How as he able to do this? Was something wrong? Was this how things should be? Like pearls breaking from a necklace, his answers came to him, in a chaotic line of yes, no or a small explanation. He needed help—now.
"Tristan...Joey...may I inquire guidance?" The two grew silent and immediately focused in on the usually self-reliant man. Yami made sure to carefully phrase his words. "Whenever your minds are plighted with the uncertainties of your relationship, do you find yourself crushed under the weight of your concerns or afloat atop a calm sea of assurance?" Tristan and Joey's faces were both that of pure befuddlement. "What?" Yami question; had he asked a question too personal for whatever predicaments they were in at the moment? Usually Yugi would feel Joey and Tristan out before deciding on asking certain things, but Yami felt impatient and bit uncaring. He needed...help.
"Yam', like, Yug' isn't here to translate and ya words are always so lovely..."
"Poetic as always," Tristan added.
"But we don't always understand...ya know?"
Yami chuckled before nodding. "I apologize. I did not intend to come off purposely bewildering. Allow me to rephrase my thoughts." Pausing for a moment Yami nodded before asking, "Do you both often think of Serenity and Mai?"
Joey immediately nodded, "I think of Mai all the time. There's not a moment that doesn't go by, that I'm not thinking of my number one broad. But I mean," he leaned forward casually shrugging, "she's my wife. She's literally my world because I love her and as a man, all I can focus on is taking care of her, what I can do to make her happy, and what I need to change to make all those things happen."
Tristan nodded, "I agree with Joey. I think about Serenity a lot. Because I love her, I have this constant drive to always be the best in what I do, just for her. It can be stupid stuff too. Like, if she asks me to take her somewhere, I make sure I'm early, get her there early, and take smooth streets so my bike doesn't make her uncomfortable."
"So it's safe to say that your thoughts in regards to your lovers, is driven by love?" Tristan and Joey swapped looks before shrugging, taking macho positions and nodding. Tristan and Joey weren't ones for being too emotional outside of drastic moments, or to the women in their lives. So Yami expected such a non-verbal response. "So when thoughts of say another—a friend, a coworker...you're not stuck in thought as you are with the women of your life?"
Tristan stared off in consideration while Joey immediately nodded. "It actually freaked me out the first time I realized, just how much I think about Mai. I wasn't always thinking about Duel Monsters and burgers—she was everything." A light dusting of pink came across his cheeks and Tristan took notice of this. At the risk of feeling embarrassed, he nodded in agreement.
Yami decided to leave the conversation at that. He knew with anymore digging, his true feelings might be revealed, and he wasn't ready to show what he felt were his darkest secrets. "Hmm...This is all very interesting. I appreciate the insight." Nodding he looked around the room thoughtfully, before moving to his gaming console. "Perhaps we should show some 'noobs' how to properly use a gun?"
Tristan and Joey gladly caught the controllers thrown to them and Yami booted up the machine. The three were well into their current online match, when Yami's mind began to wonder right back to his upcoming date. What would happen? A romantically blue ribbon wrapped around his thoughts, and tied a tight bow around it. This satiny constriction made his shirt feel tighter on his skin; he discreetly pulled at his collar.
"Uh oh Tristan, Yam's got the nakies!"
Trista moaned agitatedly more at his misdirected grenade than his friends' case of the created 'nakies.' "Come on man! You're always stripping down."
Yami ignored the two and placed his remote down. Pulling his shirt over his head, the rush of cooled air hit his skin, easing the once thinning sensation. "This 'nakies' as you so affectionately called it, is simply a level of comfort your modern age finds shameful."
Joey wiggled his eyebrows at his score as the game came to an end, and leaned in towards Yami, "Ain't nothin' shameful about that bod, baby! I'm Tamiko!" He even went as far as to make kissy faces.
Yami shoved him back good naturedly while Tristan laughed. "Oh Yami!" Tristan joined in as he poorly caressed Joey, "You're so tan—tan is sexy!"
Joey pulled his shirt up, actually revealing a six pack of his own, "I'm royalty baby—gotta have the body of a king rather than a prince."
"Oooooo! I could so wash my Sailormoon panties on your stomach!"
Yami's face belayed a level of annoyance, which brought the duo even more laughter and happiness. "You two wish to tease me?" Slowly he rose from his position and gathered his shirt. He twisted it up in a way that had both Joey and Tristan holding their palms up in forgiveness.
"Yami you don't have to this!" Tristan pleaded as he slowly reached for a pillow for protection.
Joey simply scanned the area of how he could escape, leaving Tristan as bait. "Come on man! We're just having fun...you don't like Sailormoon panties?"
With that, Yami released a barrage of painful pops to the two. Snap after whip — so loud and so painful — left Joey cowering in the pantry and Tristan curled up in a corner of the kitchen, covered by a pillow by the end of the attack. Titling his head back, Yami released a deep rich laugh that coiled the skin of his victims. "Let this be another lesson to you both." He even snapped the shirt against the storeroom door, causing a very unmanly yelp to come through the door and Tristan to jump whimpers a soft 'no'. Smiling even more, Yami took the moment to appreciate the brotherhood he was a part of. He couldn't image having such moments with anyone else outside of Joey, Tristan and Yugi. He'd truly treasure these times and recall on them during his elder years, remembering just how bright his youth was at pinnacle points.
That same silken blue ribbon shot from the confines of his mind and gripped his golden ideas—would he and Tamiko have these same types of memories? He knew it was too early to determine whether or not she was a keeper, but were the few interactions they had memorable? They definitely left an impression but would he search for her face when he failed a test; wish she was present to react a precious moment; or even yearn for her hands to brush his own, when he felt alone? Yami even forced himself to envision wrapping his arms around her, gazing into those playful brown eyes and waiting for her to kiss him—he appreciated such sensual anticipation. But in the process of mulling over such details, he caught a blaze of bemused beryl bias. His mind melted to fill miracle molds, making muscles mesh to movement. His tongue twiddled against teeth; creating a catchy tune for catastrophe. Those eyes enlisted his enchanting enthusiasm—Yami yielded to the yearning. His aperture arid among aqueous allusion—he blinked. What just happened?
"Having a flashback man?" The nonchalant question pulled him free but only barely.
Turning around, the confused man took in his friends sitting at the bar, already eating what could have been leftovers. "What?" His tone was dry; deeper than usual. As if he just woke up and in a mental sense, he had.
"Having a flashback," Tristan repeated. Yami's close friends were accustomed to him dazing out. It had been particularly bad when he received his new body. He had been alerted that when sharing a body with another, your memories are not as vivid. However with his own brain process to share with one spirit, the things he remember and that would come hurtling back to him, would temporarily stun him; taking him to La La Land to onlookers. The experience could be compared to only seeing black and white silent films, before being shoved into a theater to watch the latest full color HD 3D action film.
Yami nodded, "I believe you could say that." Joey shrugged popping more falafel into his mouth while Tristan shoveled the fallen steak back into his bready pocket. "Perhaps I should have made more?"
Tristan raised an eyebrow, "I hear that condescending tone mister."
"How about less sass and more ass, huh?" Tristan and Yami gave the blonde twin looks of confusion. "Sorry, that's what I usually say to Mai during her rants."
"Does she take that man?"
Joey shook his head, "It usually doesn't end well."
"I can see why," came Yami's challenging tone, "Perhaps we should try my own philosophy?" Joey and Tristan immediately hopped off their stools and looked around for a safe route back to the corner as well as the pantry. "Would you like to hear it?"
"No," they said in tandem, already feeling the stings of their past whipping.
"Feeling it is a better option." Smirking, Yami's attack began again on his friends, while he tried to avoid the sting of mental assaults.
Downtown Domino
Isis wasn't sure whether to feel absolutely hopeless or foolish beyond reasoning. She sat before her vanity, combing her long dark hair in long placid strokes. A long sigh emitted from her nose and her eyes rolled with no true purpose. This was all so silly. Why was she choosing to sulk as a pubescent girl would? Removing the brush from her hair she set the item down with a firm 'thud', before rising up from her position. Moving into her closet, she clicked on the lights and perused through her clothing as if she was actually going to pick an item. Isis was young and full of life, why wasn't she out giving that life experiences? She used to meet new people and see new places all the time. Who cares if it mostly revolved around—a past Pharaoh? The moments when she was on particularly stimulating dig in South American ruins, or even the times she led tours over French artistry at the museum; she was alive and sharing her love of history with supple minds.
But what had she become now? Her finger grazed a dress of rich red and she paused on the material. The sweater dress had been purchased her first winter in Domino City. She knew at the time why she chose such a color, but now, now she felt stupid about it. Why had she lied to herself? What was this feeling? She slapped the sweater and listened as the hanger whined against the bar. What did it matter that this almost crippling feeling of great green wanted to consume her? And who cared if she was afraid of the underlining blue haze of defeat that lingered underneath? Clenching her eyes, she forced those feelings away and plated them in cool unfeeling steel. Hard steel that she had seen manufactured by another—another who had called her an emotional wreck, in their own words. The night in the parking lot played through her mind and she cowered in fear from the memory.
She had acted so foolishly! How stupid could she have been?! During her crumbling phase, all she remembered was being put in the car and dropped off at her apartment. He didn't walk her to the door; he didn't even open the door. He just waited until she stumbled out into her building. She felt like an emotional prostitute in that moment. All night she had given him heavy doses of emotion, and he had simply watched on in quiet show. The same way a street walker is picked up and subjects themselves to an evening of baring skin, and accepting payment for her time; Isis was plucked by Kaiba, bared her soul to him and was expected to be grateful with a free meal. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she refused to feel sorry for herself—about that issue at least.
Her mind replayed a very eventful fair held at Domino University. She remembered how delicious the foods were, how many students had been so eager to ask her questions, or even how she stayed away from anything remotely pertaining to Arabic. As silly as it had been, Isis had successfully kept her distance from Egypt's land, while still offering many key pieces of prime info to teachers and students alike. How she had done it was surprisingly a feat within itself. However an inquiring teacher had asked her why she wasn't taking place at the Egyptian tent. He had assured her she'd make a fine Cleopatra to their skits, or even be able to give a better tour in regards to the past civilization. Artfully she had declined him and he had only offered her a warm smile, hoping for a 'next time'. However there wouldn't be a next time, for anything.
Her chest felt tight and her ears began to ring at the recollection of what she saw. She didn't want to feel—she refused to feel on the topic. She didn't need to. What were emotions but barriers for the logical? They burned bridges, washed away beach fronts and turned a serene moment into chaos. Why couldn't she be happy with just being happy? Why was she always grasping for more that made her cry; bartering for less that made her angry; or even craving for nothing that left her sick to her stomach? Kaiba was right. She was a foolish woman genetically doomed to inanity. Covering the gasp that leaked from her lips, she feared what she was starting to believe. She had to feel. She HAD to feel. If she didn't, what would come of her spirit? She had been forced for so long to withhold her expressive opinion for the sake of her family—in the face of terror, you can't let them see you sweat. But now, now she was an ordinary woman, striving for an ordinary life, and she was so willing to give up her human right to passion?
Isis lowered her head and willed those emotions — if only for the moment — to consume her. To remind her of whom she was and that she wasn't afraid to be just that. Instantly her body began to shake and she lumbered back into her bedroom, wrapping up tight in her throw. Why was she shaking? Her stomach cramped beyond reason and her eyes began to moisten. She felt like she was going to be sick. What if she did vomit? She didn't even have the strength on her wobbly legs to rush her to the bathroom. Her breath ghosted around her face and the warmth only added to the chills. Isis was breaking—she was breaking down to nothing. Her career, her home, her possessions—none of them meant anything, not even the small semblance of comforted they once offered. Wanting to rush to her true home didn't even begin to express this homesickness. She needed to be surrounded by people who loved and cared about her; who weren't afraid of her feelings but welcomed them. She needed her brothers because she officially felt alone in Domino City. Her last bit of 'home' that she had to hold on to — even if only in spirit — was now gone, to the hands of a petite Japanese girl.
"Kaiba...because of Kaiba..." She verbally tried to correct her ideas but all knew it was a lie. Swallowing thickly, she lied back on her bed, before curling into a fetal position. "Atem has found...another..." Why was she saying another? He had never been hers. "He could have been..." No he could not! It went against everything she believed in and was just too odd. "Excuses..." Those aside, there was always Kaiba and he was her boyfriend. "But he doesn't love me...nor does he know how..." Then teach him how to love! Teach him the wonders of— "No," a long sigh, "I offer myself unto my foolish behavior, now I will pay my dues." Nodding to herself, she reached for her phone and finally pressed delete to that number in her phone.
Curling around the still alit phone asking if she was sure of this deletion, Isis Ishtar began to cry.
Kaiba Corporation
Ring...R—the phone went black. Kaiba looked down at the repeated name on his call log and rubbed a hand across his face, at being stupid enough to call her. She needed to be left alone, so she could have time to work through her issues. If he didn't give her time then what would happen? She'd once more see him, cry, get angry and just continue to breakdown all which he had built, for them, in the relationship. A small voice whispered: What have you built? Kaiba had created a situation that benefited them both. Isis had been a lonely woman, barely acclimated this modern world as well as Japan. Her friends were scarce, her past job at the museum had been lackluster, and her world had needed something to enlighten it.
She needed him. She had always needed him. Kaiba was her driving force to move forward and her reason for being. He offered her purpose and that very purpose, from such an important man, had obviously driven her to crazy behavior. It only made sense. He had that type of effect on people. His hand natural redialed the number, putting it on speaker. After a ring and fourth, he once more hung up the call and leaned back in his chair. But what could he do in regards to her? Was Isis really worth all of this ridiculous behavior? His fingers rose into a steeple and he pressed them against his pursed lips. Was she? He glanced at his phone before turn the chair's back on his desk all together. He looked out over the quiet city and pondered on this.
Isis wasn't giving him sex which he was not pleased about at all. What was so hard about she taking off her clothes, and allowing him to thoroughly fulfill her in ways she could only image? What a prude. Kaiba didn't do prudes since a prude usually couldn't be done. However he kept her around. She rarely was psychologically stable enough to fully enjoy his company. Women would kill her to be in her position, yet she treated him as some...some normal person. Did she forget she was dating Seto Kaiba? One of the richest men in the world—a man who made the Forbes' list every year. Why couldn't she deal with his personality and take it for what it was? He'd never changed for anyone and at the moment, he didn't see the point in starting now. However, did he really not want to change?
His mind played a dirty trick on him and forced the image of her bandages knees, crying behind her hands and overall hopelessness he felt in that moment. In that time span Kaiba had wanted to grab this problem, repair it and return it to Isis. A primal need to fix her had been so strong, he felt himself go brain-dead, thus losing his voice. What had been different? Just like when she had slapped him before breaking down to tears in her bedroom, he now felt this soft bit of light, trying to break through his egotistical shell. He didn't like these instances of weakness because it always gave Isis the wrong idea—that he was changing. But was he? Had he changed?
The CEO had been forced to adapt to his work environment, he had to adjust when Mokuba finally decided to move out, and he had to learn to shift from being an obsessed teen to an ambitious young adult. All three of these had been a pain in the ass and now Isis wanted him to become this palpable organic material, which absorbed everything that it was around. But Kaiba didn't work like that and never had. He had never been put in an environment where it was wise to be so empathetic. He hadn't even known this side of Isis long enough to know it was 'safe' to give her exactly what she wanted. She needed some consistency in order to earn it. He had been consistent, why couldn't she?
Narrowing his eyes he silently cursed the thought process that just occurred. Where were his data? Why hadn't equations been worked through? Why did his thought sound...normal? Little by little, whether he regarded it or not, something about him was starting to fall brick by brick. The question was: If the wall fell, would she stay after seeing what he already knew?
PLEASE READ:
Sorry if this chapter feels empty. It was getting up to 10,000 words going against my set goal per chapter for this story; next chapter will answer those questions that were asked here. Thank you all for reading!
Arabic Words:
Tahini – A paste made from ground, hulled sesame seeds used in North African, Greek, Turkish and Middle Eastern cuisine.
Japanese Words:
Mata ashita – See you tomorrow
Posted especially for:
Simplydreamt: I bet this one trolled your emotions too. MWUHAHAHAHAHA!
Scooby82101: Yeah, the tension is increasing because we're about to hit a pinnacle moment. At the risk of revealing more, I'll just leave it at that. Lol. But I miss you Mika! My messenger keeps crashing but I'm working on it. Hope to chat with ya soon! Miss our fanfic rants. Lol.
Tru Mel Meiko Mei Ling: Yaaaay! I have been trying SO HARD to have their personal insights be standalone moments, rather than scene transitions. And she DO need to recognize! (Snaps and rolls neck) But I'm glad my OC isn't hated. Don't want any Mary-Sue backlash but so far, so good. Now my love message to you: Like I told Mika, my messenger hates me and I'm working on the issue! I miss chatting it up with you about chicken and video games! Hope to get on soon and talk with my Melshums!
Archlyte'Faerie: Yaaay! I've brought you to the dark side. Haha. Trustshipping will always be number one for me, but something about Avis just ensnares me. Glad to know it's hooking you in too and thanks for the review!
Still Stands: If I don't get one measly review, no new chapter, however if I do get one measly review, new chapter.
REVIEW!
Well I'm Out.