Author's Note: Hi there guys and sorry for the really long wait; I had writer's block and didn't really know where to start with this chapter, but it's done ... finally! Sorry again and I hope the ending will make up for the wait! XxxxxxxxxX
"Can we make this dream last forever?"
There had been no big-scale entry, no eye-catching display or speech to foretell of the German's entry; he just appeared out of nowhere. Despite himself, Seto found the quiet entry much more annoying than any flamboyant or attention-seeking stunt the German could have pulled off; he felt cheated that there was no warning of Zigfried's entry.
A deep sigh with a monotone voice was the most welcoming greeting Seto could conjure.
"Hello Schroeder."
Not noticing that he had just intruded, Zigfried took it upon himself to sit down at the table. Ten minutes later and he was still talking; something about the designs of his new building and how it would accommodate an impressive dueling system. Such a notion made the other company-owner smile inwardly; the moment Zigfried attempted to build anything akin to a Duel-disk or dueling platform, the KaibaCorp board of attorneys would be on it, citing patents and claiming copyright infringement on the initial idea.
One thing that made it through crystal clear was no mention of flood-prevention fittings to the new building; this flood plain didn't seem to be well known of, but he trusted Kisara's knowledge for some reason.
If he nodded every five minutes or so, Seto found he could feign interest in the conversation rather well; there was just something about that German accent that grated at his nerves. He knew numerous people who possessed much more extreme accents; many of his associated had only broken English at their disposal, and yet he would have much preferred to be talking with any of them than Schroeder for some reason.
Ignoring Zigfried's boastful words was a feat in itself, but Kisara trying to keep a straight face across the table from him wasn't helping. The more she tried to hide her smile, the more Seto felt the corners of his mouth being tugged upwards. Another ten minutes passed, with maybe a fleeting accented word about Pegasus amongst the fray, but it was the mention of Duel Monsters that caused Seto to finally tune in and listen to the German's words.
"… to be honest, I was surprised to be invited to your tournament, Herr Kaiba."
"There was one space available and no one else would take it."
Considering what he had done last time, Seto had been surprised at Mokuba's suggestion of inviting him; their firewalls and data-banks had recovered from the virus soon after, but having his company attacked like that was not one of the young CEO's fondest memories. Mokuba had put up a good argument though; seeing as all the other finalists from the KC Grand Prix had been invited it would have looked rather spiteful to exclude Zigfried. And there wasn't all that much the Schroeder could do this time around, except lose; the Golden Castle of Stromberg card had been confiscated by Pegasus soon afterwards and was now safely under lock and key somewhere on Duelist Kingdom island.
He was talking again; did this guy ever just give his mouth a break? Judging by the words Seto failed to ignore, he was talking about Duel Monsters yet again; why did he bother to talk about something he evidently knew very little of? He had lost after all … no, wait; he had been disqualified and then beaten by Blue-Eyes. Now that he cast his memory back, Seto could feel his anger being reignited; Schroeder was the first duelist to try and remove all three of his Blue-Eyes from play and it had blown up in his face. Looking across the table to where she was still trying to hide a smile, Seto silently swore the same thing would happen if Zigfried even thought about taking her blue eyes from him.
Inevitably, he felt his hearing drawing him back to the conversation as he heard a familiar name being spoken.
"… but you wouldn't understand such things as a dueling strategy, Kisara; I doubt that you even know what a battle phase is."
Zigfried's ice-blue eyes glanced to Kisara as he said her name and, whether it was deliberate or unintentional, the pale irises swam with arrogance. In contrast, Kisara's eyes submissively looked to her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap. Now fully-tuned into the conversation, Seto pinned Zigfried with a cold glare and took a breath to set the German straight. And he would have done so too, if it hadn't been for a quiet voice beating him to the punch.
"A-actually, I think your dueling strategy was fatally flawed by your use of a Valkyrie deck … y-your dependence on using Ride of the Valkyries to , umm, summon all of your Valkyrie cards wasn't a wise move when faced with a Dragon/Machine type deck such as Seto's. T-the only reason it worked on Joey Wheeler's is because his deck is a Warrior/Beast-Warrior type deck. Not a-adapting your dueling strategy for different opponents is what I … I believe to be the sign of a poor duelist, Zigfried. But p-please don't take my word; I'm afraid I don't even know what a battle phase is."
To guess who was more shocked, Seto or Zigfried, was anybody's game as Kisara finished her say in a polite tone, letting a vivid blush claim her cheeks. Many of the guests had decided to eavesdrop as the young woman spoke in a quiet voice about the card game, defending her meagre knowledge of its workings.
Seto smiled widely, just about keeping a bark of laughter suppressed at the look on Zigfried's face; he doubted he would've been as articulate, or defended her just as elegantly as Kisara had done so. He had been unaware she'd known so much of Schroeder's dueling strategy, let alone so knowledgeable of the duels he had won and lost in the KC Grand Prix.
As Zigfried made his excuses and sauntered off to some other table in the function room with his tail between his legs, Seto moved over to sit beside the still-blushing Kisara, wide smile still in place. He had been ready to tear the German down bit by bit for his condescending words, but he hadn't expected Kisara to defend herself so eloquently, and politely insult Schroeder at the same time.
"Feel better after getting that off your chest?"
An embarrassed nod of her head was his answer, along with a small smile; her blush was slowly starting to fade.
"I … I only meant to tell him what a battle phase was, but I got carried away, I-I'm sorry …"
"Don't be; that was-"
Seto stopped short as a young woman approached their table, attractive smile playing on her lips as her light brown hair bounced in styled curls. He knew her from a year ago when she had visited Domino during a fashion expo. Nodding his head at the newcomer, Seto smiled and spoke.
"Zd'rastvuyte, Maria."
"Zd'rastvuyte, Seto."
Kisara blinked; judging by the harsh accent of the woman, she guessed a Russian or East-European nationality; languages the French woman knew nothing of, but apparently Seto and this woman had just greeted. As the new woman looked to her and began speaking, Kisara smiled lightly, not all too sure if she was being insulted or asked a question. After a minute or two, the woman called Maria stopped speaking with a warm smile, and then looked to Seto. Nodding, he looked to Kisara.
"This is Maria Koriscova; she owns a modelling agency in Russia and a few boutiques around Japan and America. She says well done for putting pinky in his place and that you look stunning tonight."
Blushing again, Kisara looked to Maria and nodded gratefully, smiling as she spoke to Seto.
"C-can you thank her for me?"
"Spasiba, Maria."
He nodded and spoke the strange word, garnering a wide smile from the woman; Maria seemed kind, even if a language stood between them. Though she looked awfully like she could use a good meal; the cons of being a model Kisara supposed.
"Do svidanja, Seto, Kisara."
"Do svidanja, Maria."
Seto again nodded and voiced a few more foreign words as Maria departed. Despite not knowing the language, Kisara presumed the woman was saying goodbye, judging by her small wave and walking away from the table. She had learned something new tonight; Seto spoke Russian. With a blush still visible, Kisara idly fidgeted with the heavy silver bracelet on her left wrist..
"Did she really say that?"
"Pretty much, but Maria likes to use swears, so I left them out of the translation."
"I didn't know you spoke Russian, Seto."
Looking at the platter of frogs' legs in the centre of table, the young CEO now wondered how he could have mistaken such things for chicken; they looked nothing like it.
"I didn't know you could insult someone as politely as you did … how about we don't tell Schroeder about the flood plain, huh?"
His words made her laugh lightly as she nodded her head. She hadn't been intending on insulting Zigfried, but he had insulted her first with no cause. Looking at the wine glass in front of her, Kisara doubted very much if Zigfried had paid full-price for her family's produce, and he had served it in abundance tonight. The alcohol was expensive enough in Euro, but seemed to be priced rather extravagantly in Yen. Her guardians had always maintained good relations with the Schroeder family, and there was no doubt they would continue to do so when he was in Japan.
"Smile, Kisara; it might never happen …"
She blinked as she felt a light tug on the end of one of her curls, laughing, the young woman moved her head to evade his hand; it had taken her and one of the maids an age to style the tresses and pin them up and she wasn't too fond on the idea of him pulling them loose, even if the tug had brought her out of her brooding.
Seto had offered hiring a stylist but, being herself, she had turned down the offer and spent a good hour or two getting ready. Maybe next time hiring a stylist would be the best way to go, and save a lot of time aswell. Looking to the couples currently making their way around the dance floor, Seto stood, smiling as he saw Kisara raise an eyebrow as she looked up from where she sat.
"I didn't step all over your toes for no reason; I told you we'd end up dancing."
Smiling, Kisara nodded her head and took his outstretched hand; it was comforting to have his strong grip encasing her hand, but infinitely more comforting to feel his hands placed on her lower back as they found a vacant space on the near-full dance floor.
"Why wear them if they hurt?"
"Because they look really nice with the dress."
He never could understand why women tortured themselves by wearing excruciating shoes; they might look great with a dress, but the blisters they left weren't as good-looking, especially at almost two in the morning as the SchroederCorp limousine delivered them back to the Kaiba mansion. And why exactly she was taking the shoes off outside the door, he really didn't know.
"It's so I won't wake Mokuba …"
Kisara smiled and answering quietly; she could see the question written on his face. It had been a long night of dancing in high-heels, speaking with other CEOs and their partners, but Zigfried hadn't approached them again; she still felt embarrassed at having spoken to him in such a way, and supposed she would have to apologise at some point.
"I think you just dropped a foot in height."
Having become used to her taller height in heels, Seto smirked with amusement as Kisara shrunk before him, holding her shoes in her hand; the top of her head only reached up to his chin now. Pouting slightly at his words, Kisara found herself smiling in a few seconds as she remembered an earlier conversation.
"Bentō?"
"Tomorrow, I promise."
One of the other Japanese CEOs had mentioned something called bentō, saying his wife made a very impressive traditional type. She had later found out that bentō was a take-out or home-packed meal common in Japan; there were even contests for the most elaborately laid-out bentō. One of these competitions was being held in the middle of Domino tomorrow and Seto had said he would take her to it.
Japan just seemed to hold more and more new things to explore; from its exquisite architecture to simple snacks such as Pocky, which had become a favourite of her's in the last few weeks. The competition was starting at one in the afternoon, so there would be just enough time to watch the match. With that thought, Kisara looked to Seto as he opened the front door of the mansion quietly; she had almost come to view the maze-like house as a home over the past few weeks.
"Seto, does the television have sports channels?"
A slight laugh could be heard as he held the door open for her to walk through; the young man answered with a smile as she gathered up the dress and walked bare-footed in the foyer.
"With Mokuba living here, of course it does, why?"
The door closed just as silently as it had opened. Walking forward, Seto noticed that the lights had been left on in the foyer; most likely by a well-wishing younger brother of his.
"Liverpool are playing tomorrow and I wanted to watch the match; it's on before the bentō competition."
Why he smirked like that and looked away was a mystery to her, but Kisara wanted to know what was so funny in his opinion.
"What is it?"
"You play the piano, listen to rock, you also have a degree in Geography, insult Schroeder, you dance perfectly and take an interest in Japanese culture. You're into soccer, you help Mokuba with his French and you're beautiful; is there anything you're not good at, really?"
Despite herself, Kisara looked to the floor and blushed vividly; he didn't mean what he was saying, it must have been the wine.
"I- I'm not … beautiful-"
"Yes, you are; don't belittle yourself."
There his hand was again, gracing the left side of her neck and half-disappearing into tresses of white. The strong cobalt drew her eyes up to his and, though she strained to see it, there was no hint of cloudiness in those irises to suggest a few tipsy words; he was sober and knew exactly what he was saying.
"Well, I'm not good at understanding business stuff …"
"So she has a flaw after all."
Dark brown fell over the piercing cobalt yet again as he laughed lowly, but kept his hand exactly where it was; there was no present from Kai this time, or spying maids to spread the word. Before she even realised it, Kisara had lifted her right hand to brush the dark brown strands out of the way, an action Seto had no problem with whatsoever as he lowered his head slightly for her to reach.
"It was annoying me …"
Smiling as she spoke, the young company-owner reached his hand up to hers, retreating from his brushed-aside hair, and slowly intertwined his fingers with hers; any thoughts of Egypt or a past he had once lived were banished for this moment; this was his life and his Kisara, not some priest's and definitely not Schroeder's.
"Y'know I could teach you some business stuff if you want to be good at everything?"
"I'd like that."
She smiled; there was one thing that made her smile so far, and didn't involve any consequences on his part. Love, sir, is when you enjoy just being in her presence, be it talking or in silence. In my experience, people only ask that question when they are in love, sir. Roland was one wise man, Seto came to realise as he looked down into perfect sapphire eyes and felt her grip his hand a little tighter; her fingers fit between his seamlessly. His eyes searched hers for a second or two longer before Seto tilted his head a little lower; half-expecting some kind of interruption to force them apart yet again.
Right now, Kisara wished she had waited to take the high-heels off later as she strained to the tops of her tip-toes. A week ago she had convinced herself that loving him was impossible, but such thoughts were abandoned right now.
Her eyes slowly slid closed as his lips brushed over hers; tender and tauntingly light. Instinctively leaning forward, Kisara returned the light kiss, unable to gain anymore height from her exhausted toes. Thankfully, Seto dipped his head lower, allowing her to relax a bit as his lips returned, this time with more meaning. Somewhere amidst returning the kiss and feeling his tongue brushing against her lips, Kisara relinquished her grip on the high-heels in her left hand and let them fall to floor; the now free-hand reaching to rest on his arm.
It could have been seconds, minutes or an entire age they stood there, but the two eventually parted for the need of air. The brown was back masking his cobalt eyes when she looked back up at him, smiling slightly as her cheeks became flushed with colour.
One more lingering, light brush of his lips across hers, and a light squeeze of his hand. No interruptions this time; no text message alert, and no Zigfried. Just him and her.
Seconds upon seconds of just looking at each other; was this what Roland had meant by enjoying her presence? It was only as she placed her hand over his, still resting on her neck, that Kisara felt his watch pass beneath her touch. Frowning slightly, she looked to the clock on the wall; at this rate she'd never get up in time to get to the bentō competition, never mind watch the match beforehand. Seto seemed to take note of the time too, as he followed her gaze to the clock.
"Good thing there's no meetings tomorrow."
She smiled at his words, and then looked up at him somewhat beseechingly, letting a vivid blush take hold; one of the maids had helped her get ready. Why was it that dress-makers insisted on locating zips where no human could naturally reach?
"Seto, c-could you unzip the back please? Akari had to help me get ready …"
Smiling, Seto nodded his head as Kisara indicated the back of her dress; the top of the zip lay just beyond her reach. He lowered it to where she could reach it comfortably. Picking up the shoes she had unceremoniously abandoned on the floor, Kisara straightened and looked to her fiancé.
"Thank you, Seto … for tonight; you would have said something to Zigfried if I hadn't."
"I would have dropped him from the tournament."
She laughed lightly at his words, having seen the look on his face when Zigfried had put her down earlier; he wouldn't have held back and that was why she had spoken instead.
"Good night, Seto."
A light kiss on her cheek.
"Good night, belle dame."
A/n- I hope you liked it (they finally kissed, lol) and please tell me what you thought! Thanks again, as always for taking the time to read it guys! XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
2nd Revision - 9/February/2011