Algol: So Yami turns a little dark here as he explores more of himself. I hope he doesn't come across as too gloomy since I still think of him as a strong and resilient character. Hopefully that comes across. I also want to give special thanks to Blue September, Darleneartist and Stairway for the great input. You guys really motivate me.
On a sadder note though, this chapter was really hard to pull off. I don't know why, but I'm in a bit of a creative slump. I pushed it to get this out, and in the end I am not that happy with how it is. There are things I still need to do, but it's hard to figure out a way to do them and be satisfied with the outcome. /sigh Just an amateur writer's digression.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh.
Summary: Some memories have to be reborn.
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Chapter 11: Trail of PearlsYami was approaching day eight of his new Kaiba-free diet. He spent countless hours at night brooding, mulling and suppressing his more carnal desires in order to spend more time in the day actually being a friend to the people around him, especially Yugi. Perhaps some of it was guilt, since Yami was always a bit of a recluse, but the ancient spirit merely thought of it as catching up on lost time. Unlike the others, Yami didn't perceive time normally. To him there was nothing wrong with spending several years on a project or on some personal exploration. But for some reason Yugi and the others were horrified at the notion of being away from each other for too long…moving off after high school for several years to attend college…studying abroad …all of these things instilled fear into the heart of the average teenage. They survived on friendship and companionship as much as oxygen, Yami concluded. So he was simply following the custom of the time and 'hanging out' with everyone as much as possible.
Unfortunately Yami also realized that he didn't truly belong as much as he secretly hoped. Yugi mentioned something called "mental age" and thought that was why Yami sometimes acted too old for his appearance. The Pharaoh only laughed, reminding his friend that he was several millennia older than his appearance suggested. Yugi had blushed sheepishly and said that he knew that, he just thought Yami should try to act his age. Yami assumed this meant he should have pizza eating contests, go on group dates, and never make his bed again. But maybe Yugi did have a point.
Yami was old. He looked like an adolescent, but in his mind he had all the characteristics of someone far more adult: deeply protective instincts, group leadership, rules mongering, and excessive independence. Besides…he always thought of himself as an older brother to Yugi and his friends. It was inevitable really, the way they all looked up to him for advice, for hope, for guidance, for protection. How could he behave like a teenager when no one treated him like one?
Yami didn't think he could act like one of them. He wanted to. Now that the world wasn't in constant chaos he wanted to taste a carefree life, freewheel and hang off light posts. It looked like fun.
Yami walked down the concrete sidewalk, the evening sun lighting the tops of his shinned boots with a soft red-orange glow. He fisted his hands in his pockets, as he was apt to do whenever his thoughts ran deep. He realized as he passed a green painted light post that he simply couldn't act like a normal teenager. It wasn't in him. He wasn't Joey or Honda, he wasn't really a teenager at all. Yami looked up at the electric bulb flickering behind frosted glass, wondering how everything came to this exact moment. Yugi was taking some extracurricular activity this year and was currently at a meeting at school, Joey and Honda were probably at the arcade…Anzu was at dance class…and the person with no hobbies to fill his days was contemplating the longevity of a light bulb. Yami sighed and pulled out one of his hands to brush aside a piece of hair that fell across his eyes. He quickly placed it behind his ear and returned his gaze to the concrete pathway.
Yami continued to walk aimlessly, his feet taking their own path as his mind turned over thoughts about his past. Back in Egypt he was Pharaoh, and before that he was the heir. He probably never enjoyed a childhood back then either, constantly being educated in politics and ruling etiquette. He was the only person alive whom childhood bypassed in at least two lifetimes.
"No…Kaiba too…" Yami thought suddenly. The CEO of Japan's largest gaming company was also the most surly eighteen year old this side of Kansai. Yami knew very little about Seto's past, both modern and ancient. But he did know Seto was pulled out of his childhood and forced to become an adult and overtake an abusive, derisive adopted father. "Kaiba doesn't act his age either…he doesn't have the luxury too…"
Yami chose to stop his meanderings at the bridge overlooking a small manmade lake. He sat down on the edge, letting his legs dangle easily over the side, and rested his cheek against the cool steel railing. The brilliant sunset reflected hues of fire in Yami's watery eyes and along the caps of faint wind trails on the lake. The trail of gold faded into a darker blue until at last the mountainous horizon seemed to swallow the sun as if it were the yolk of an egg, and it broke and spilled under the jagged blackness. The dark spirit remembered many such sunsets…even ones from a sun several thousand years younger. He remembered the sheen of bright limestone and heat wakes along the desert horizon ebbing away to a cool, star filled night. Yami remembered things like one remembers dreams: as something far away and untouchable, yet living somewhere in the heart, in the mind, being reshaped by perception and awareness. He never remembered anything the same way twice unless it was with Kaiba.
Suddenly Yami's head seemed as heavy as lead and he let it slide along the railing until his cheek met grit on the concrete span. He always had the most vivid recollections with Kaiba…each more detailed than the next. It was like he was replaying history whenever they touched.
But something more lay beyond that now. There was more beyond the skin and the sheets and lavender-scented pillows. There was darkness far greater than Yami fathomed, one that wormed its way through his head and into the farthest reaches of his subconscious. No matter how much he wanted to know his past and unlock the mysteries that burdened his soul, there was a primal fear that raised in him like bile and forced back his internal journey. The murky waters of his memory were not just sunless; they flowed deeper into a pitch that no light could defy. It was his deepest fear, the ancient sins that oozed along the depths like blackened blood.
He was afraid. Afraid of what he might find, alongside Kaiba…alongside his past self there on the bottom of the ocean of regrets. Perhaps it was nothing at all, like a child afraid of the darkness in his closet. But something…something inside Yami sang an archaic hymn that buzzed in his soul, singing songs of decay and darkness. That part of him was very far from his light, very far from his friends and very far from this world. The only thing it was close to…was his heart's greatest pain and greatest pleasure: Seto Kaiba. And still that darkness invaded his thoughts and slowly became his obsession. He had to know who he was, what his past life was like and why Kaiba of all people was his sweetest sin. He couldn't live in shadow forever.
A cool breeze ushered along the lake, bringing the telling chill of autumn and the impending death of summer. Yami shivered suddenly, realizing he forgot his jacket, and rubbed his bare arms for warmth. He sat up, wiping the loose grit and concrete dust from the side of his face, and lifted his arms to the top of the railing so he could propel his body to a standing position. But instead he simply sat on his haunches, his head bowed down and his hands gripped the steel poles so hard his knuckles gleamed under the moonlight. He stared at his own shadow, just…thinking. Thinking about Kaiba, about Yugi, about himself, and about the absurdity of his situation. His shadow told him nothing though, and offered no ear in which to listen and no mouth in which to voice comfort. It was emptiness that confronted him, the shadow with a shadow.
Finally the spirit rose, turned to walk back towards Yugi's house, and was momentarily confused by a familiar shape. Resting innocently on one of the support pillars of the bridge was a single white lotus blossom. Yami looked down the road on both sides, trying to catch a glimpse of the culprit who left the flower. No one was around. Cautiously he approached the thing, as if it was a creature yet to be tamed, and he reached out with a single finger. It lightly brushed a petal, reassuring Yami that the flower was in fact real. He pinched the elegant stem between two fingers and lifted the blossom off its stone rest. Am I …dreaming? He blinked his eyes a dozen times, and shook his head attempting to dispel the vision. No…I'm not. Then…who? Yami's crimson eyes narrowed in frustration, and he felt like throwing the flower over the railing and watching it sink into the blackness below. But he couldn't…not when it elicited memories…recollections…the sweet fragrance of identity and self. The white lotus was impeccable, Yami examined closely, and obviously someone took great care in making certain it was a perfection of nature. He placed his nose to a petal and gorged his senses, delighted by the sweet familiar scent.
Seto…
That was the name this scent reminded him of: pale skin, perfect softness, silky hair that always smelled sweet and luscious. Yami cradled the precious gift in his hands now, recalling even the moment on the river. It was a memory so very far away and yet so close, and it was utterly precious to him.
The moonlight cast a silver glaze on everything now, and the flower almost shone like a pearl. And up ahead on the road Yami saw another pearl…
He pushed his body forward and found another blossom placed in the very center of the road. It was unmarred since this bridge was on a side road behind the park that was only used by residents. He picked it up and instantly looked for more. When he didn't see any close by he continued down the side of the road, scratching his head in disbelief. Lotus flowers were not native to Japan, and regardless if they were or not they didn't just grow out of concrete. Someone was intentionally placing these flowers, but why?
A few minutes later he found another one, perfectly pale white, gazing at him from a local transit bench. And even another hanging from a lead loop on a light post, the same one he passed earlier. Now Yami carried a bouquet of flowers, each one creamy white and perfectly shaped. Despite their white innocent faces staring up at him, he scowled at them, gritting his teeth. What the hell is going on here? Who would do this!? Kaiba? No…the day he gives me flowers is the day the sun doesn't rise. Yami arrived at Yugi's house and opened the side door, basking in the light yellow wash from the Motou's quaint living room. Sugoroku was sitting in his favorite chair reading the Japan Times, putting the paper down when he saw Yami step into the room.
"Ah, there you are. Yugi will be home in a few minutes, he just called me and said he was getting a ride." The old man smiled openly at the spirit. "What is that you have there?"
Yami looked at the collection in his arms and shifted uncomfortably. "Flowers…" he replied faintly.
The older man laughed good-naturedly, "I can see that much Yami, I meant what kind of flowers?"
"Oh, well uh lotus flowers. I found them."
"Found them? Here in Domino City? Haha well isn't that funny?" Sugoroku straightened out his paper and went back to the article on the new pothole prevention plan fore-fronted by a local politician. Yami wondered what was so funny about something so frustrating, but he decided Yugi's grandfather probably wouldn't understand anyway. He navigated the furniture in the room and walked into the small kitchen, hoping to find something suitable for his flowers. After a few moments of shuffling through a cupboard full of old jam jars and glass bottles he found a nice simple vase and filled it with fresh water from the tap. Yami's new flowers fit nicely together, but no matter how pretty it looked on the outside he knew there was something deeply suspicious on the inside.
People don't just find single cut flowers in the road or distributed around town. Someone planted these, and someone probably wanted him to find them. It had to be Kaiba but it seemed so unlike the man that Yami questioned his entire evaluation of the CEO. Or perhaps his illusions were so powerful now they transgressed reality. That was just as good an explanation as Kaiba leaping around town dropping flowers. Yami almost smirked at the very notion, imagining Seto leaping around like some woodland nymph throwing petals and flowers from a wicker basket. He quickly shook the mirth away, picked up the vase and ascended the stairs.
Yugi's room was almost always messy. He was pretty busy after all with school, after school activities and helping his grandfather on the weekends. Still, he should pick up his dirty clothes Yami thought as he kicked a week-old shirt into the corner. The Pharaoh placed his vase on the nightstand beside his bed and sat down, examining the flowers as if he was waiting for something to sprout. He tried to glean as much observational information as he could, but what he really needed was a clear answer. Did Kaiba send these or didn't he?
Yami heard the front door slam shut and Yugi's cheerful voice muffled through the walls. After a few minutes of mumbled conversation downstairs and the proceeding pounding of feet on the staircase, Yugi presented himself in the threshold, beaming like always.
"Heya Yami!" the small teenager dropped his book bag and maneuvered over to Yami's bed. "My new club is so fun, everyone there is really interested in archeology and I think Grandpa is going to speak at our next club meeting."
Yami turned his full attention on his light and smiled warmly. "That's great, sounds like just the place for you."
"Heh yeah, too bad Joey didn't want to join though. He said it sounded too much like class." Yugi shook his head amiably before he suddenly noticed the vase of flowers. "Oh wow…where did you get those Yami?"
Yami reached up and scratched his temple, almost embarrassed to recount the story. "I found them…it was the strangest thing really. I don't know where they came from." Yugi leaned closer to investigate, humming inquisitively.
"So you just…found these? As if someone was dropping them for you to find?" Yugi wasn't sure if he should be concerned or intrigued. "Someone like…"
Yami quickly interjected, "Yes, yes I know someone like Kaiba. But honestly, why would he do this." He wondered if perhaps it was another cosmic joke, and fate was just laughing at him. "Seto Kaiba doesn't love me," the ruby-eyed man bit back the bile of sorrow that threatened to rise from the pit of his stomach, "and I hardly think he would give up his invaluable time earning money to leave a trail of flowers for no apparent reason."
Yugi noted the sadness that shadowed his Yami's words and thoughtfully replied, "You know, lotus' were special to ancient Egyptians. One of the club members had this book about symbols and stuff. In fact…" Yugi skid over to his book bag and pulled out a small book with a purple jacket. "Yeah, see the lotus flower represents rebirth and regeneration. It also symbolized the ancient waters in which all life began." The effervescent boy looked back at his friend holding up the pages depicting pictographic representations of the flowers near Yami. "You should take a look at this, it's really interesting. Plus it might help you remember things about your past life." Yugi took a seat next to Yami and placed the book on the nightstand. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before, " he shook his head, "We can get all the information we need until you remember your past."
Yami couldn't help but smile, touched by Yugi's kindness. No matter what descended on him from past or present, he always knew that he would have no truer friend than Yugi Mutou.
After dinner, Yugi finished up his homework while Yami decided to take a nice hot bath. He even included a rubber ducky, but only because it fell into the bath water by "accident." He steeped his entire body into the steamy water and let out a great sigh. This was what he needed, a nice tension-reducing bath, and time enough to contemplate things with a fresh perspective. The flowers were an obvious hint, and even though the gift-giver was unknown, that didn't seem nearly as important as the familiar feeling that encompassed the pharaoh.
He cupped his hand and raised it out of the water, letting the meandering paths of liquid snake around his forearm and dribble off his elbow. The waters of Nun, Yami thought as he considered the hot water, from which all life began. He lifted his hand again and again, observing the random patterns of water. It all flowed to and from the same place, even though it always took a different path. Perhaps life was the same, we all begin and end in the same place but the paths we carve are completely different from each other. But sometimes two paths converge and become one.
Yami watched the last trail of water leave his palm and sighed dejectedly. He was trying to force his memory but it wasn't working. He kicked his feet out and submerged deeper into the white tub, sinking slowly until he closed his eyes and sunk to the bottom. There he lay, enveloped in watery silence until his lungs cried for air.
Soft golden light greeted him as he sputtered for breath. Yami opened his eyes wide, rubbing them insistently. Yellow-white candles, probably hundreds of them, littered the entire room…a smooth stone enclave with a submerged pool. He smelled jasmine and lotus oil in the water; he could even see the sheen of oil swim along the ripples of water around his chest and arms. Yami felt the smooth stone beneath him, making sure he was seeing something real. Even the warm touch of the stone sent chills through his arm. This wasn't real…he was still in Yugi's house…wasn't he? Yami observed steam traveling to a large opening in the wall, escaping into a moonlit night. White silk curtains slung along gold fixtures framed the terrace, and Yami watched the delicate fabric move along the floor, swaying like the hem of a long dress on a dancer.
I remember this…
"My Prince…"
Yami almost choked when he heard that voice, it was serene yet powerful, and unmistakable. He was almost afraid to look, afraid that if he did the dream would vanish and he would be back inside Yugi's bathroom, staring at a rubber duck.
"You never told me…what the dream in your heart was."
Yami felt words percolating in his throat, and he could hardly suppress them. It was as if the words were imprinted on the tablet of his heart. He couldn't forget them even if he tried. "You mean…during the feast of the lotus…I can't believe you still remember that." Yami could feel his lips smile softly. Suddenly the other man came into view, and a hundred lights glinted off his golden headdress. But even that was a faint scintillation compared to the sapphire eyes he stared into.
"Of course I remember. Your candle burned farther and longer than anyone's…so I wanted to know what dream could be so strong in your heart."
Yami's cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he tried to slide into the water to disguise his blush amidst the steam. "Seth…" The name burst on his tongue like a drop of lemon juice and he salivated from its citric flavor, consumed by the desire to remember it, to keep it safely tucked away in his heart. His lips burned, and his tongue swelled inside his mouth. He could hardly speak.
The man named Seth, a name with a thousand dark caverns, leaned down and placed his hand into the water. His robed body sprawled along the stone steps leading up to the bath, and he rested his chin against the arm propped along the side. He moved his hand back and forth, agitating the water along the side. Yami was awestruck. The man before him looked exactly like Kaiba but his eyes…his eyes were so genuine and compassionate. Two lengths of white cloth hung from the sides of his headdress, and one of them floated easily along the ripples in the bathwater…swimming precariously close to Yami's chest.
That was when he noticed he was still naked, and he hunched down into the water, blushing hotly again. "S-Seth what are you doing?"
The man smiled languidly, reminding Yami of Kaiba, though without the usual ego behind it, "I was just curious my Prince. If you want me to leave…"
"No!" Yami practically splashed the other with a wave of water as he furiously lifted his arms and grabbed Seth's submerged hand. "I…I don't. I'm sorry I was…it's just that it's a private matter. You understand…"
Sympathetic eyes smiled gently at him. Kaiba…no Seth squeezed his hand and caressed it softly with his thumb. Yami wasn't sure if it was simply friendly or…something more. He found himself desperately wishing it were more, fervently praying that this man wanted him as much as…as much as he wanted the other. To fulfill his lonely dreams and stop the maddening rush in his heart. Something poured incessantly into an unseen pool in his chest as he stared into the man's eyes. It was as if he wanted to drown himself, drown himself with despair and devotion at the same time.
He could not deny the darkness in his heart, or the collective breaths that spoke this man's name with every exhalation.
Seth brought his hand out of Yami's grasp and shook the water off. "I do understand." He stood to his feet and descended the steps. "I just hope that someday you will trust me enough to confide in me, my Prince. After all, when you lead all of Egypt your trust in me will be paramount." He added a small smile and wrung the water from the wet cloth near his face.
Yami was horrified by the notion that this man thought he didn't trust him. Of course he trusted him…he just didn't want to answer the question in his heart. He didn't want to hear the one thing that would make his world crumble. Yami frowned uneasily. "No…Seth you don't…" his voice faltered, "I do trust you…I trust you as the sun trusts the moon to rise in his place…"
"I—" Yami was aware of his voice echoing loudly off white plastered walls. Suddenly all he could see was white, and the numbing pain behind his eyes disoriented his thoughts. Gradually his vision cleared and the painted smile on Yugi's rubber ducky greeted him. He batted it away and instantly searched the walls, the tub, and the floor looking for something to tell him he wasn't simply imagining things. I was actually there, Yami's breath puffed harshly, that was him…it was really him. He grabbed his hair and twisted it roughly in an attempt to confirm his own reality. It hurt, and the pain grounded his senses to the expanse of the Mutou's small bathroom.
"That was…Kaiba's past self." Yami breathed heavily, still trying to get a hold of the memory in his mind. He felt as if he abruptly awoke from a lucid dream, and the harsh artificial lighting only made him more dazed. He recalled so many things now. The way the light danced in Kaiba's…Seth's eyes, the way his hair barely touched his eyelashes on one side, the way his hand felt like something he never wanted to release, Yami's breath hitched in his throat. He realized he must have loved that man. The man who was now a part of Seto Kaiba's existence, was someone he used to love.
This didn't surprise the spirit in the least. But what was surprising was the softness in the man from his past. It was something he rarely found in Kaiba, and even then he thoroughly imagined that his craved mind only perceived softness from Kaiba even if it wasn't there. Seth and Seto Kaiba were two different people in a way. They had different pasts, different experiences, and he must have met them in different ways. Did…that mean he was fated to love someone that…no longer existed in this time?
Yami settled his forehead against his raised palm. Did he really love Kaiba…or did he only love the memory of that man?