A/N: Much thanks to barrie18 for pointing out the loophole! No worries, this just explains, in a way, the events of the next chapter and maybe liven it more. Review, though, so I'll know how this one fared, 'kay?
Chapter 10.5: Insight
Found true love, lost your heart
Now you don't know who you are
- Even Angels Fall, Vanessa Carlton
The nightmares resumed on the fifth day of his self-imposed 'exile'. Someone's always burning, suffocating in the conflagration that he could never explain, and throughout these dreams, Yami always stood powerless on the sidelines. A spectator who watched but could not do anything. He hated it every time—loathed how the knowledge of such doom wasn't enough to protect the stranger from the fire. He remembered Cassandra, who once spurned the Greek god Apollo. The prophet who could see the future, only to be mocked at and ignored.
Every night the nightmare progressed in intensity, and every night he woke up gasping for air like he was the one who was drowning in the carbon monoxide. Like he was the one who was being burned.
Two weeks into this new life Yami placed himself into, he decided to get a job. There's only so much his savings could go, in the first place; and secondly, he had never really swallowed down the idea of being a bum. And so, after a quick run to the grocery, he passed by the coffee shop that he frequented in the mornings and applied as a barista. He got the job. He had the experience after all –
"I don't see the point in you having two jobs when you have a scholarship anyway."
Lance's voice is laced with boredom and worry as his boyfriend changes into fresh clothes. They've spent the morning in, intentionally skipping their classes to celebrate the only time they have with each other, and the self-imposed vacation would have been extended if it weren't for Yami realizing he's expected at the coffee shop after lunch.
"Haven't we talked about this before?" Yami replies, exasperation clouds his tone and he turns to his boyfriend, crossed arms and awaiting a response.
Lance shook his head, "Yes, but it seems to me that our past discussions haven't achieved their goals. I can understand one job but two? I'm surprised your body can still handle it, Yami."
"I know you're concerned—"
"Understatement."
"Hush. I know you're concerned but I like doing this, okay? It keeps me busy."
Lance pouts. For all their compatibility, Lance and Yami are different. They've shared similarities: an overprotective streak with their younger siblings, for example, or an affinity with local bands and jazz clubs. However, while Lance preferred the pragmatic over the principle, spending time discussing matters related to the economy and politics, Yami was empowered in the discussion of the abstract and the humanities. Of course, had Lance known who he was, he would have understood the broad, borderline obsessive knowledge his boyfriend had on Egypt, or justified the passion Yami had in philosophical discussions.
But as much as they are a couple, they also have their own secrets, and Lance respects that. This is why he's giving his workaholic boyfriend space. It still doesn't explain why Yami prefers to have a crammed schedule every day when he can have it otherwise. "You can drop by later, if you want," Yami offers as a truce.
"After your shift?"
Yami shrugs.
"Can I drag Daniel with me?"
"Of course. He'll kill me if you don't," the former pharaoh remarks.
But if Yami thought his life was virtually still the same, except for certain variables and changes in geographic locations, he was wrong. For one thing, the coffee shop wasn't as busy as the one he had worked at. This was situated at the center of the town, away from the university where majority of the people were. The people who did frequent the place were those who had been patrons since it opened. Meaning, the old lady who owned the flower shop, the couple who were running the grocery and basically everyone that he met on his errands.
Whatever hopes he had of his job distracting him from the confusing and equally nonsensical dreams he had had, were futile and he sighed tiredly.
What was the point of actually moving out to another city if the situation was still the same? The only consolation Yami found, at this point anyway, was that at least he could look anywhere and not have anything remind him of Lance.
Then again, that wasn't exactly true, was it?
The shift ended dully as usual and he bid his co-workers goodbye. He thought of spending some time in the nearby park and was already headed there when a black Chevy Camaro stopped in front of him.
"Sometimes I wonder if you truly know how to keep in contact."
The antagonism wasn't lost in Seto Kaiba's voice but Yami didn't miss the underlying concern there. It was surprising, to say the least: the CEO's presence here and the concern, that is. Yami stared at him before gathering his wits and responding, "What are you doing here?"
This time, the brunet got out of the car and approached him, handing a small package. He gazed at Seto curiously. What?
"It's for you," Seto said matter-of-factly.
"What for?"
"It doesn't make sense to drop by without giving you something," was the answer.
Yami simply nodded, unable to come up with a response to that. Not that it warranted one anyway. It was sufficient in itself so he concentrated on opening the package, instead; eyes widening when a leather-bound journal, which he presumed was blank, was revealed under the wrapper.
"A journal?" He repeated out loud, meeting Seto's gaze.
"I heard it works... especially if you think no one listens to you."
Journals were good for therapy, studies said. They weren't capable of making judgments. But they weren't capable of responding, either. The point was, however, for a troubled soul, he could pour his worries over sheets of paper and no longer fear being called shallow, insensitive and what-not. It was enough and that was why it worked.
But did Kaiba really need to give him one?
"Do you think I need it?" Yami questioned.
"I believe so," was Seto's noncommittal reply.
"Why?"
For a moment, the CEO was silent and looked thoughtful. He glanced briefly at the journal and met Yami's eyes.
"I promised that I'd be here for you, as your friend, but I'm not going to lie. You have issues that I won't be able to understand initially and I think... it's better that you have this when I fail."
Yami was struck speechless by his reply and for a few minutes, he tried to say something, only to fail and gape incessantly. Seto eventually chuckled, breaking the awkwardness of the situation.
"I have to go back tomorrow," the former priest pointed out before smirking, "Lead the way. Mind you, this better not be boring... wherever you're headed."
As expected, Yami reacted to that and rolled his eyes but not before he smiled gratefully at his former rival and kept the journal in his bag. "I was going to the park, if it pleases His Highness?" He quipped, sarcasm dripping from his words.
"As always," Seto mocked back.
A comfortable silence fell upon them as they walked to the park, each distracted by their own thoughts. Yami discreetly glanced at the brunet by his side and idly wondered about his recent behavior. Since Lance's death, Seto had been quite adamant in gearing him back to shape and although they were both stubborn, the brunet knew when not to overdo it. Something that Yami was grateful for... however, it still didn't explain a lot of things.
Like today's surprise visit.
"Everyone's asking about you. I'm surprised Yugi doesn't know why you left, only that you have," Seto suddenly voiced out, pulling him from his thoughts. At the mention of his hikari's name, the ex-spirit sighed and looked away, remorseful in an instant. He didn't like keeping things from his aibou, especially when it concerned huge changes.
"Is he okay?" Yami replied.
"He's worried."
"He doesn't have to."
"He still does."
"I know. I don't want him to," Yami whispered. "I don't want anyone to worry about me anymore."
Seto sighed, torn between exasperation and sympathy. The irritation was there, as well, but the former two eventually won out. "When people care about you, it's inevitable that they worry. It's an innate flaw, if you want to think about it that way."
"And you, Kaiba?"
Noticing that the tables were turned, Seto metaphorically took a step back and gazed at Yami warily.
"What about me?"
"Why do you follow me, Seto? Why do you even bother... I don't know, why do you bother to give me this journal? Do you care about me?"
There was a moment of hesitation, Yami thought, before the brunet answered, "I'd like to think I'm your friend, as it was something you stubbornly pushed for when we were still fighting each other. Why? Does it trouble you?"
Briefly, the former pharaoh considered the response inadequate. A scapegoat to the true response. But he also decided he wasn't in the position to demand Seto of these answers. So Yami shook his head and thought of his current situation. If he were logical about it, he had two issues he needed to face. First was the fact that Lance was dead and that he was still dealing with the post-traumatic effects the incident had wrought. How he was dealing in that aspect, he had no idea and at this point, he didn't want to know just yet. The second issue was more rooted on his past and he stifled his annoyance at his inevitability to let go of it.
Often had he yearned for the past as a key to moving on. Once, it used to be his identity, in a sense. Although he knew that he wasn't the Pharaoh, that he wasn't the one who ordered the deaths of so many people, believing it was different. It was difficult to separate the monarch from the student now when generally speaking; they were intrinsically just one being. And so, how must he deal with a problem about separating these two when there didn't seem to be a way to do so?
"If you could change your past, would you?" He asked Seto before cursing inwardly. Of course he'd know the answer to that. The brunet had been a firm believer of the insignificance of the past. Why would he even care about changing it if he didn't consider it important?
"I would."
What? "You would?"
They were in the park now, approaching the bench by the fountain. Seto sighed as he sat down, eyes unseeingly directed to the distance. "I would have told someone that I knew his boyfriend."
At the confession, the CEO's eyes widened and he blushed, shocked by the unwitting manner it was admitted and the timing. He glanced at Yami who for a minute looked confused before he nodded. Seto doubted if he understood what the statement was about.
"I never knew you busied yourself with problems like that," Yami said.
"On certain occasions, I'm dragged into it." Seto grimaced before he looked away, as if to stop the former pharaoh from piecing the fragmented sentences together.
"How would you know? You haven't even met Yami yet." Good point, if it were only true.
"I have—"You have?—o-on this tournament my company sponsored two years ago." It isn't a lie, but it isn't wholly true, either. Then again, what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? "He's been having the same… problem ever since."
"Sheesh, Yami," Lance mutters again. "So you haven't really met him? Like, personally?"
"I haven't."
"He's awesome! Rather secretive, sure, but he's—he adores history so much. When he talks about Ancient Egypt, it sounds like he was actually there. When he does, you can see his face light up like he's reliving it and--and he's fascinating. I should introduce you to him one of these days."
Their conversations, though unaffected, were shorter after that.
XXX
Yami yawned for the umpteenth time and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. Most probably it was his day finally taking its toll on him, but there were also those sleepless nights to boot. Seto frowned in concern and nudged him gently on the arm. It was getting late anyway.
"Let's go. You're tired."
For a flicker of a second, Yami was hesitant and he looked at the night sky, seemingly amazed by the sight of the moon being embraced by strips of clouds. Had it been a full moon, bright and beautiful, Seto would have understood. The full moon was always a sight to behold. However, this was only a crescent and so he stood up, eyes on the former pharaoh. The man before him didn't look like the teenager he had dueled against countless of times. While the younger Yami was cocky and arrogant, proud in his every move and action, this was milder. As if tamed, humbled.
Weary.
"Can't we stay for a while?" the former pharaoh asked timidly, crimson eyes pleading. He didn't want to go home yet. The nights were almost always unbearable. Seto eyed him for a few seconds then got the message and nodded, conceding as he sat down again. For that, Yami graced him with a small smile. His version of thanks, Seto knew and had to fight the urge to return it.
Three hours were spent under the night sky, exposed to the cold air and the silence. It wasn't that they didn't want to talk to each other. Nor was it because they didn't have anything to talk about. Simply put, conversations didn't suit the ambiance of this environment. Things were so peaceful—surreal that one mere conversation could easily jolt them back to reality. And somehow Seto thought Yami wouldn't want that. There were benefits in denial, and he definitely understood.
But three hours were also having an effect on them and he shivered slightly despite his coat. What more Yami who was slender in frame and wearing a thin jacket? He sighed and turned to the other, honestly surprised when the former pharaoh was looking back at him. Seto's eyes widened slightly—surprised—and he reddened a bit.
"Would you like to spend the night with me?"
"What?" was the CEO's incredulous reply. Yami must have noticed his mistake and blushed, changing the phrasing quickly.
"I mean, spend the night in my house. It's late."
"It's fine, Yami."
Yami paused, before continuing quieter than before, "Please?"
And then Seto Kaiba got the message. That maybe it wasn't solely because the former pharaoh was concerned about his welfare, which in itself is tad unexpected, but probably because he didn't want to be alone. It tugged at him and he nodded instead.
"I'll have to leave early in the morning, though. I have to go to work," he acceded.
"Thank you, Seto."
Seto smiled then stood up, offering his hand, which Yami took. He pulled Yami up before leading the way back to the car. There wasn't anything else to say and so, things were quiet between them. Until halfway out, Yami broke the ice and whispered mostly to himself, "I keep dreaming about a fire. I was always watching and no one could hear me."
"Since when have you been dreaming?"
"Since the fifth day that I was here?"
Seto frowned. That long and Yami didn't bother to tell anyone? "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to bother you. Besides, you have no incentive to help me anymore."
"That's bull and you know it. You think I'm doing this for the sake of what? Some misplaced sense of gratitude?" Seto seethed and in his irritation, started to walk faster to the car. Damn it. But when Yami grabbed his wrist and bade him to face him again, Seto stopped and exhaled heavily, following. Yami looked apologetic. Stricken, of course, but greatly apologetic. "Believe it or not, Yami, but I am capable of caring for someone aside from my brother."
Yami nodded contritely. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Is that really what you think about this?" Seto inquired. He didn't know what he'd do if it were an affirmative reply.
"Sometimes I think I don't deserve this."
"What? My sympathy? You are my friend, aren't you?" Okay, so maybe at this point Seto had slightly given up on the idea of him liking Yami more than that. After all, it really wouldn't reap as much benefits as he wanted it to, and right now the former pharaoh didn't need it. But the denial was also difficult to push down. The urge to pretend that everything was alright in the world was very strong.
"I am."
"Then believe me when I say that you can lean on me."
"I'm not that kind of person. I don't want to burden you."
"Tough luck then, because I'm not leaving," Seto insisted as he dared wrap an arm around Yami's chilled shoulders. He led them to the exit. It was cold. "You can try and make me, sure, but I'm as stubborn as you so you might as well consider yourself warned."
Yami didn't reply after that.
In spite of that, the ride home was slightly better than the awkward pseudo-argument they had in the park. Yami gave in to his exhaustion and surprisingly fell asleep, resting his head on Seto's shoulder. Seto had to smile.
It wasn't Yami depending on Seto.
It was him trusting Seto that he would be here in case things were bad as he sleep.
That was enough to convince the CEO that things were going to get better eventually, and they would just have to take it one step after another.