Author's Note: Hi everyone! Sorry about the wait! I hope you like this chapter and sorry about the length; I just needed to set a few plotpoints rolling for the future build-up. Thanks for waiting! xxxx


I thought I'd lost my way.


The stock markets levelled out eventually; the main contenders tentatively re-entered the spooked trading waters and returned to their selling and buying. A couple of dips here and there kept everyone on their toes but the whole of Asia returned to the markets before a fortnight was through. Extra eyes watching the markets and more cautious trading set the trend for the damaged egos. Damaged egos that would take no time healing and most likely no heed from the financial precipice they had peered over.

But none of those things bothered him right now.

Of all the half-hatched plans he had ever committed to, this was the one Mokuba was least sure about. Bravado and secrecy had fed his nerve from Domino to here but the teenager could feel himself faltering with each step he took up the crowded steps, the bright sunshine blinding as they finally emerged into the daylight of Shibuya. It was the beginning of the mid-term school holidays and by all accounts, he should have been studying for the end-of-term exams in late July. Instead Mokuba found himself standing by the statue of chūken Hachikō and not at all confident in his actions.

"You'll be fine, Mokuba. If all else fails I'll do the talking."

The madness of the last two weeks had had one good outcome if a silver lining had to be salvaged; he and Rebecca were back on speaking terms. He hadn't realised how much he had missed her until she approached him one lunch break in school and asked after Kisara. Sure he had Taka and his other friends to talk to, but she had been his best friend; the one person who knew all the dark and sad secrets of his life. And he had ruined that relationship in two foolish minutes. Shaking himself, the teen flashed a smile and nodded with confidence.

"Thanks again Bec, I didn't know who else to call."

"Don't be an idiot, now which way?"

She waved away his gratitude and did that cute thing where she placed both hands on her hips and looked around. Hiding a small smirk, Mokuba looked around and tried to get his bearings; it had been quite a time since he had been in Shibuya city. Technically the place wasn't a true city – it was an area of Tokyo known as a special ward, but everyone called it a city regardless. They could hail a cab to Harajuku, but walking would probably be quicker given the congested traffic of the borough. They needed to swing a left and follow the main road until it curved by the Tōgō Shrine and ended up on Takeshita Street in Harajuku.

The city bustled around the two teenagers as they walked away from the bronze statue of the loyal Akita and worked their way through the heavy crowd. Mokuba kept his head down, pulling the baseball cap lower whenever someone looked his way; he really didn't want to be recognised today. Seto would probably go nuts if he knew he was here on his own with none of the security team, but he just couldn't take the risk of asking Roland to tag along; the man would no doubt veto the clandestine trip.

The crowd of people around them came to a halt as one, waiting for the traffic to stop at the pedestrian crossing and he watched for the green walking light to switch on. Mokuba had never been someone to let his thoughts turn too serious but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that things were happening without his knowledge at home. Something had happened to turn the atmosphere in the mansion on its head. Things hadn't been the same since news had broken of Kisara's position as CEO of her family's Estates; there was a solid block of constant tension in the mansion. The press were at the gates every waking hour and at KaibaCorp too, the cameras and questions giving neither Seto nor Kisara a break from the drama.

"Mokuba ..."

Rebecca's whisper and poke to his shoulder made him blink again. Shit, the traffic would be moving again in a few seconds! Clear of his daze, Mokuba looked both ways before joining in with the rest of the pedestrians and crossing the wide road. Domino was a big city, but it shrank in comparison with Shibuya; everything seemed bigger and better in the fashion metropolis. Running a hand over the YG logo on his Yomiuri Giants baseball cap, he pulled it lower again and looked around; keep following the main road until the Tōgō Shrine appeared. The crowd thinned a little as they continued up the main street, sun shining and traffic beeping. Strangers passed by in a world of their own; people on the way to work, kids revelling in the break from school and teens expressing their individuality through the medium of street fashion. Ganguro, lolita, kogal and every other fashion incarnation imaginable filled the streets leading up to the main area of Harajuku and all Mokuba could feel was his stomach turning over and over again - the sooner he got this over and done with the better.

"Slow down ... your legs are longer than mine!"

Unable to keep up the rushed pace, Rebecca stood still and pinned him with a pleading look; not everyone had the luxury of being six-feet tall!

"Sorry Bec, I'm not with it."

Another guileless smile was sent her way but the blonde could see straight through it.

"I'll say ... what the hell is eating you? You're not-"

She bit her tongue then, stopping the words from tumbling out. You're not usually like this. How would she know what he was usually like anymore? It had been three or maybe four months since that train had left the station. When all Mokuba did was smile again and shrug his shoulders, Rebecca sighed and tried to find the right words; she missed his friendship, but there was too much pressure and attention attached to being with a Kaiba. One look up at those dark violet eyes made her do a double-take though and she understood Mokuba's strange mood.

A set of cement steps leading into the park surrounding Tōgō Shrine offered a temporary seat. Sitting down on the sun-warmed steps, Rebecca looked up and patted the space beside her. Watching as Mokuba sat down, she waited for a couple of punk lolitas to stride by with a titter of giggles between them. Only when they had passed did she reach over and flick the peak of Mokuba's baseball cap up a degree.

"Start at the beginning."

Watching an advertising screen change from a Hello Kitty slogan to a Hatsune Miku concert, the younger Kaiba sighed and tried to smile again. A smile usually took care of everything from an annoyed teacher to an angry maid, but he felt no relief this time and Rebecca was no fool. But he needed to tell someone and there was no one he trusted more than Bec.

"Kisara's uncle called her phone after the CEO announcement. I don't know what he said, but she's been different since then."

"Maybe she's just scared? Taking over a company must be a frightening prospect."

Nodding at her words, Mokuba scuffed his feet on the lower step and chewed the inside of his cheek. No one had told him of the phone-call that night; he had been in the city when it happened. But he had overheard Rin and Roland speaking in whispers a few days later and that had been enough to worry him because neither of the two usually partook in gossiping. Their whispers had sounded more worried than busybody, but then Takara had walked up the hallway and he had made a dash for school before the maid had time to admonish his lateness.

"I get that, believe me I do Bec ... but it's like the last six months never happened. I can't get her to smile or even start a conversation. All I get is a blush or maybe a mumble."

His brother's fiancée had reverted back to the near-silent girl who had arrived from France, all in the space of a day or two. He missed hearing her giggles in the big house. And with no Kisara to even him out, Seto's mood had taken a dark dip too. Smoothing out the pleats in her skirt, Rebecca tried to think of some clever piece of advice to offer but her intelligence fell short of the subject matter. She was gifted academically no doubt, but she was still only a teenager and these problems were beyond her scope right now.

"You can't solve everyone's problems Mokuba. You can try and try all you like, but you can't fix everyone."

Bumping shoulders with him, Rebecca tried to keep her voice cheery. She had told him something very similar not long after they broke up, but retrospect was a fine thing she had come to realise. She knew about his past in the orphanage, of the lonely years he had spent in his bedroom drawing imitation Duel Monster cards; no one had fixed his broken years. Was it no wonder he always tried to help people?

"But I have to keep my family together."

Blinking at the change in his voice, the blonde could see the serious look on his face beneath the shadow of the baseball cap. No smile and no grin, just determination. And for the first time ever, she could see just how similar to his big brother Mokuba was growing up to be.

"Okay then, let's fix them."

It was her turn to smile and nod, completely committed to this secret trip. Trying to break his sudden pensiveness, she pilfered the Yomiuri Giants cap and stood from the cement steps, marching ahead down the sunny street. It took a second, but Mokuba shook his melancholy and caught up to her, his mood much improved; his shoulders felt a little lighter than they had been for the past two weeks. Trying to reclaim the cap was a feat in itself as Bec ducked out of the way each time and in truth his heart wasn't in the mission; she was laughing and smiling and he was enjoying watching her giggle in the sunshine. He had promised to take her to a ball-game in the Tokyo Dome during the baseball league last year, but that was one of the many date plans that never materialised.

"What about taking care of KaibaCorp and letting them go away for a few days?"

Turning to look up at Mokuba, Rebecca walked backwards and asked the question. Maybe a couple of days away from the spotlight would help Kisara get to grips with her new status as a company CEO. Ducking as he made another grab for the baseball cap, she smiled again.

"I don't think Seto would take the time off; he's supposed to be heading to America next month with Kisara for some horse-race thing. Besides even if I could persuade him, they'd never dodge all the press; there's been cameras at our gates for the past two weeks and at KaibaCorp too."

"What about privacy laws?"

"Because the paparazzi aren't technically on our land or property, then they're not infringing on our privacy. I don't mind them, but Seto hates the press and Kisara is way too shy to deal with a camera in her face everywhere she goes."

Rebecca nodded at that, trying to find some answer to the problem in his words. She knew how shy Kisara was, but surely the media coverage would only increase with her family's business heading for a possible court-case. There had to be some way to keep the media happy and not have to deal with a reporter after every step. The easy answer would be to take a bodyguard everywhere, but that wasn't realistic in the long-run.

"There must be something ... Mai did mention a girls' night out to Vivian, but that was a while ago now. If we could keep the press away, then the change of scenery might cheer Kisara up a bit."

Rebecca tactfully didn't mention Téa in the proposed plan. She didn't know for certain, but Mai said there had been some big fall-out between Yugi and Joey not long after Téa and Kisara's words in the museum. She wasn't a fan of friends fighting or of Téa's gradual distancing from the group, but sometimes people just had to deal with their own problems. Things would work out in the end, that was one thing she knew in her heart. Whatever these little spats were about, it was nonsense in the grand plan of things.

Eying a magazine vendor as they walked by, the blonde took a second to study the cover of a glossy magazine. It sported an official picture issued by the Imperial family showing the Emperor and his two heirs; the Crown Prince Naruhito and his young nephew who would eventually become Emperor. A light-bulb switched on in her mind somewhere and an idea began to formulate.

"Why not copy the royals?"

"Huh?"

Running to catch up with Mokuba, Rebecca jabbed a thumb over her shoulder towards the vendor.

"You said you don't mind the press, right? Well why not use your social media accounts to issue official pictures every so often? But only in return for privacy; no privacy means no pictures. Get the PR team onboard and use every platform; Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook, Vine, Twitter – you have accounts on all of those and you're great at public things; you were the master of ceremonies at the KC Grand Prix when you were only a little kid. Play to your strengths and make the media abide by your rules."

Mokuba was dumbstruck for a few seconds, running through her idea in his head. It was a brilliant idea and one he would have never thought of on his own merit. The Imperial family and other high-profile figures only ever released photographs and statements via official public-relation agents, but the Kaiba name was a brand so a bit more media-presence was required. The more he thought through it, the more certain Mokuba became of the plan.

"Bec you're a genius!"

"I've been told that since kindergarten."

Shrugging her shoulders and flashing a smug smile, she carried on walking and pushed her glasses further up her nose. A cloud covered the sun then, casting a cold shadow on the street but it couldn't dim the happy smile on Mokuba's face; this plan would work!

Turning a corner onto Takeshita Street, he tried to pinpoint the building; of course it would be at the other end of the packed pedestrian street. And of course the man would live up to his flamboyant reputation and live in the street fashion capital of Japan. Letting Mokuba lead the way, Rebecca held on to the back of his hoody and tried her best to squeeze between the excited shoppers pulsing through the narrow pedestrian street.

The closer they got to the well-kept townhouse at the end of the street, the slower Mokuba's pace became. She didn't know the nitty-gritty details, but she was aware of the main happenings all those years ago. KaibaCorp had been seized in a hostile-takeover and he had been abducted. That was what she had learned from Yugi and all the information the King of Games had been willing to share – he wasn't a fan of talking out of turn. Any time she had tried to broach the subject with Mokuba himself over the years he would smile and change the topic. That was why she had agreed to this trip in the first place.

Stopping in front of the townhouse, Mokuba fought a mental battle; he could turn and walk away and knew Rebecca would follow him without a word. He could pretend to have not overheard Kisara asking Seto about her parents' things, go home and never have to see the man in person. Even during the latest tournament Seto had tacitly made sure he never had to face the man in public or referee any of the duels concerning the game's creator.

Looking at the front door of the house, the teenager felt his heart beat just a bit faster. The guy had been in a bad place, lost his wife and had been driven demented by one of those cursed golden items that had plagued them for years. He could draw a line in the sand between the man who had kidnapped him and the genial guy who tried to help KaibaCorp out whenever he could. But some memories couldn't be kept behind that line.

"He kept me in a dungeon, kept me chained up ..."

A small hand grasped his and the teenager swallowed whatever else had almost barged out. Holding a grudge was something he had never been good at, Seto was much better at that. But despite his best efforts, a part of him still held the man accountable for everything he had done to him as a child; for the imprisonment, the takeover, sending him to that place. The smoky shadows and screams still invaded his nightmares every so often and he woke with the fear of being taken from his brother again.

"It's okay to be angry, Mokuba."

"I'm not angry ... I'm petrified."

Holding his hand with both of hers, Rebecca had no words or advice for this moment. Instead she gripped his hand tighter and tried to pull him away from the steps leading up to the front door.

"Let's go then. Send Seto to get the stuff."

Shaking his head, Mokuba let her pull at his arm but remained rooted to the spot. He had to do this. Call it closure or facing up to his fears, but he wanted to do this. Hearing the knock on the door, Rebecca turned around just in time to see Mokuba's face change from his usual demeanour to a much more serious one. The teenager was gone and a Kaiba stood on the front step as a suited bodyguard opened the door and Mokuba's voice rang with stern authority.

"I'm here to speak with Pegasus, now Kemo."


He could easily read the hieroglyphics that ran along the coffin; her name was etched into the polished white marble as clear as day and though the sarcophagus possessed no lid, some almost-forgotten memory was filling in the blanks. He could see her face chiselled into the stone, the gems and gold that added details and even the fuzzy picture of her lying in the stone with an ankh in one hand and a sceptre in the other. Shaking his head to get rid of the memory, he leaned a hand against the glass and tried to banish the ancient recollection. But it wouldn't end like that this time around, it couldn't. He wouldn't let it.

But there was only so much of the silent mansion he could stomach without feeling utterly useless. Failure had never been an option in his life – failure meant you lost and losing had long been instilled as a death sentence. That had been the final lesson his step-father had inculcated in him, a parting epithet that had defined his life from that day onwards. He had to be the best in order to keep KaibaCorp under his control; he had to constantly be on alert and ready for an attack from any angle.

It had been easier when he was a kid, the objective so much clearer in his mind. If he could keep up with the accelerated learning curriculum and prove he could hold his own, then Mokuba could bribe one of the maids to bring him to the playground. If his notes for tomorrow's tutoring session were completed before midnight then maybe Mokuba could have that new game console he had been hinting at. And if Gozaburo spent his anger on him, then Mokie would never have to hide his bruised cheek in a pillow or pretend his ribs didn't kill him with every step down the stairs the next morning. If he kept himself the prime target in the firing line, then that was fine; thick skin had turned into impenetrable armour over time.

But Kisara had a target on her back and Seto couldn't find the firing line. Every time he thought he had found the assailant's hiding place, the danger reared up from a new angle and mocked his inability to protect her. He had found her screaming and crying on the kitchen floor and that terror in her eyes was what had woken him every night for the past couple of weeks.

Pushing away from the sarcophagus with an angry sigh, Seto ran a hand through his hair and looked around; why had he come here? What had made him think this damned place held any answers? All this building had ever offered over the years was trouble and stupid nonsense.

Now would have been a great time for Shada to appear and give him a couple of pointers; it was getting harder and harder to keep a lid on everything. A legal representative from the Ashbrook Estates had proposed a meeting to thrash things out and organise a legal signing-over of the company. But that meant somehow convincing Kisara to sit across from her uncle in a bid to discuss the Estates. He didn't want that. He didn't want that man anywhere near his fiancée and Kisara would just think he was being a stubborn asshole. As long as it kept her safe, then he didn't care about being the villain in this mess.

Something moved in another room off of the exhibit hall he was in and Seto wasted no time and headed towards it; that had better be that damned spirit or Ghostbusters would be getting a call! Trust the spectre to disappear when he was in need of help. Screw past lives and magic and every other reservation he had once held; he needed to keep Kisara safe.

But it wasn't Shada, nor was it any of the people he had ever expected to see in Domino's museum. Sitting at a desk surrounded by open books and scraps of paper sat Joey Wheeler with his nose deep in a book. Rolling his eyes up to heaven, Seto groaned and made to turn on his heel, but something stopped him. Looming over the desk was an artefact he hadn't seen in years with its depiction of a duel between a priest and a pharaoh. But there was something else on the stela that he hadn't seen all those years ago, a third cartouche that was almost entirely faded from the tablet. Walking up to the massive slab of stone, Seto squinted and tried to make sense of the name, attention completely focused on the weathered etching.

He didn't even notice Wheeler looking up from his books and eying him; the faint cartouche had a name inscribed in it, a name that ended with the circular symbol for the sun, or Ra … Keh-sah-Ra.

"She died back then, no one ever told me that."

"That's because it's none of your business, Wheeler."

Joey scuffed a toe along the ground and frowned as he looked up at the Tablet of Lost Memories; Téa and Yugi should have told him what had happened Kisara from the start and not kept it a secret between them. He hadn't spoken to either of his friends for a couple of weeks now and Mai was starting to ask questions, Tristan too. But he just couldn't face them yet; he was still too angry ... and scared if he was being honest. Kisara was Mai's friend and she was a really nice person. He'd come to like her without even trying ... but what if something happened to her? Holding his hands up in surrender, Joey closed a few of the books he had been pouring over and shrugged.

"Hey, I'm only tryin' to get a handle on things."

"Just keep out of it, loser."

Some people never changed. Standing from the desk, Joey closed the rest of the books he'd been using and gathered his notes together, gritting his teeth the whole time. Kaiba was under a lot of pressure, he had a lot on his plate. The mantra went round and round in his head for a few seconds; people had hard lives and everyone had troubles of their own. He watched Kaiba eying the stone tablet and considered being the bigger man, to walk away and leave the asshole on his own. Pushing the chair beneath the desk he had been using, Joey faltered and tried to find the right words. He wanted to help, to say he understood and could be an ally in this past-life-mess, but there were years of sarcasm and one-upmanship standing in the way.

"Does she know? Kisara, I mean ..."

"Are you still here?"

The look of derision laid waste to any patience Joey had conjured up. They had all grown up over the last few years, everyone except for Mr. Bigshot! Slamming the books back down on the desk, he shook his head and half-laughed the words, not even caring if someone walked into the study room.

"What do you care anyways? It's all hocus-pocus mind tricks, right?"

With barely enough time to react, Joey dropped the remainder of his notes and felt hands gripping his jacket, shoving him hard against the wall. Angry blue eyes flashed down at him and he had the sense he'd not only crossed a line, but kicked up the dust as he'd done so.

"You know nothing."

Rich-boy's voice sounded the angriest he'd ever heard it, and that was a lot to say for him. Pushing himself away from the wall, Joey shoved Kaiba back a few steps and stood tall; he had been in worse scrapes than this and had punched his way out of more daunting face-offs too. Pointing an accusing finger at the other man, the words rushed out with little thought.

"I know nothing because you don't let people help! She's not just yours, Kisara has friends-"

"That she hasn't seen in weeks?"

The blond nodded at that and conceded a point; Téa had no right to push Kisara away like that and cut her out. But the finger pointed both ways and there was someone to blame at either end of it.

"And keeping a whole other life secret is dandy, huh? Kisara is too good for you, ya jerk!"

Landing heavily on his rear, Joey tasted blood in his mouth and cringed; Kaiba had a mean swing. Wiping at the blood coming from his split lip, he regretted laughing at Schroeder when he'd been on the receiving end of moneybag's temper. Taking his time to get back on his feet, Joey wiped away some more blood and stood tall against Kaiba, shoving the other man back a few paces. Nose-to-nose with the star pupil of Domino High School, he grinned and laughed. For months the media had been building up an image of Kaiba as the perfect man; intelligent, rich, handsome, kind, generous … if only they could see him now.

That laugh only seemed to worsen the altercation and Joey found himself pushed up against the wall again. He had been in situations just like this before and the blond couldn't help but imagine it was his drunken father pinning him to the wall instead of Kaiba. Looking the hard blue eyes dead-on, Joey was surprised when he felt his anger diminish. He had known Kaiba for years and had seen the jerk angry plenty of times but what glared down at him right now wasn't an angry man. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn fear was bubbling in those eyes somewhere.

"Do we have a problem here?"

A hand gripped his arm and the strong grip pulled it away from Wheeler's lapel. Seto was having enough trouble trying to keep his head straight between this life and another, but the man interceding between him and the mutt was of no help whatsoever. He had never seen the guy before, Seto was sure of it and yet he was familiar. Wiping blood from his lip again, Joey smiled and tried to defuse the moment.

"It's fine Ahmed, Kaiba and me go way back."

"This is a museum and there are visitors not too far away."

Hearing footsteps, Seto glanced over his shoulder and saw Ishtar standing in the room too. Great, so not only did he have Wheeler asking stupid questions that didn't concern him, the Egyptians were back on the scene - this day just got better and better by the fucking minute! Head threatening a migraine, he groaned and snapped his arm away from the new man, acutely aware of how much he disliked the stranger without reason. Turning on his heel, he made for the door behind Ishizu before she could spew some nonsense about destiny that he really didn't want to hear right now. But it wasn't her voice that called after him.

"Kaiba … I shouldn't have said those things."

Not even looking behind him to give Wheeler the acknowledgment, Seto continued down the hallway and flipped the bird over his shoulder instead. He needed to get out of this damned museum and fast; every step he took brought with it a memory that didn't belong to him.

Pushing through the massive wooden doors and onto the steps outside the museum building, Seto found no relief in the humid evening and headed straight for the black jeep. The rainy season would soon arrive and the muggy weather was doing nothing for his headache. This had been a stupid idea and had served him no purpose. Slamming the jeep's door shut, he made to turn the ignition and instead dropped his keys to the floor. Swearing his deteriorating luck, he slid his seat back a few notches and bent down, trying to blindly fish the keys out from under the accelerator pedal.

"It is probably better that you keep your friends apart from this."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and Seto reacted on instinct; he had been looking for this annoyingly evanescent know-it-all for two weeks! Forgetting about the steering wheel, the CEO cracked the back of his head on it and swore even louder; now he definitely had a headache. Looking to the rear-view mirror and rubbing the back of his smarting skull, Seto resisted the urge to spin and grab the man by his throat. Friends? He had few of those to count and the only people he cared to protect were the ones at risk.

"What the hell happened in my kitchen? You said my house was safe!"

Unable to stop his voice from rising in volume, Seto spun around in his seat only to find the back of the jeep empty; if the press could see him having a shouting match with himself they would have him sectioned and committed by morning.

"She was not harmed physically and I said I could keep the spirit of Aknadin away. But I am limited in this life; little magic remains."

Finding the hide-and-seek aficionado now in the passenger seat, it was all he could do not to shout in anger; these disappearing tricks were pulling at his last nerve.

"Enough for him to scare the shit out of her?"

Shadi shook his head then and spent a long few seconds looking out the windshield and up at the massive museum; the Kaiba Mansion was an old building full of sadness and fear. It held so much history and happenings in its core.

"Magic is temperamental, old friend. Feelings can both feed its strength and weaken its resolve. Sadness of a lonely childhood, dread of owning a company, pressures of a failed marriage within the walls of your home. Fear of abuse."

"So you're telling me Kisara has to stop being afraid in order to stay safe? I didn't ask for Dr. Phil-"

"I never said it was Kisara's fear."

The passenger seat was empty again when Seto turned his icy glare to the ghost. Anger bubbling up at the unspoken accusation that it was his fault Kisara wasn't safe, he slammed a fist down on the steering wheel and let out a roar of complete frustration.


Kai met him at the front door, the sound of her paws on the marble floor off-kilter. Crouching down to ruffle the husky's ears, he kicked the front door closed and eyed the cast on the dog's leg. Another couple of weeks and hopefully the hyper pet would be back to her usual self; she had been lucky with only a broken leg as proof of the danger that had invaded the house.

A banging door caused him to start and turn towards the noise, standing to his full height in a split-second; Kimiko cringed her apology and quickly scurried off down the hallway. He felt annoyed with himself; there was no reason to be so on-guard in his own home. Nothing had happened since that evening and neither Rin nor Roland had mentioned the happenings to him ... and yet the maids knew something had happened. The atmosphere in the mansion had changed and everyone seemed to be walking around in silence, afraid to make a sound. The house felt different and he hated it; something had intruded and Seto didn't know how to guard against this threat.

Leaning against the doorframe of the living room, he kept his gaze on her and felt something twist in his chest. The woman curled up on the couch in his red hoody was a mere shadow of the Kisara he adored and he didn't know how to fix her ... and that was what made him truly angry; angry at himself. A visit from Vivian a few days ago had done nothing to stir her spirits and Kai's return to the mansion had mustered only a small smile from Kisara. He didn't know how to bring her out of her shell again; it had taken months for her to gain enough confidence to speak up about the Estates and her claim to them and she had done all of that on her own ... and that damned phone-call had undone everything in an instant. Something gave then and Seto moved from the doorframe; standing around wasn't going to fix anything.

No, he didn't know how to fix her but he did know how he had been pulled from a similar daze of ennui; Mokuba had been the one to root him in the real world again.

The television screen turned blank and she blinked out of her staring competition with the curtains; had she sat on the remote control again? Moving a cushion and rooting around in a bid to locate the remote, Kisara came up empty.

"Looking for this?"

Turning at the voice, she managed a small smile and brushed her bangs behind her ear with an uncaring shrug. The remote landed on the cushion beside her in apathy. There was nothing interesting on the television, not that she had been paying the shows much interest; staring into space had become a far more amusing pastime recently. The tiny smile dimmed as Seto walked around the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, blocking her view of the television. Kisara avoided eye contact and instead fidgeted with the buttons on the remote control, all too aware of Seto's eyes searching for her attention. But she couldn't meet his gaze.

She knew she hadn't been the best company for the past fortnight, but she just couldn't shake the fear in her chest that her life was catching up with her. She had found a whole new world in Japan, a life where she could do whatever pleased her. But was her grip on reality slipping? Her uncle had called her phone, she was certain of that, but he had been in the kitchen. Something had grabbed her ankle and she couldn't close her eyes without seeing that golden eye glowing down at her. Gone were the dreams of a spiked platform and caterpillar creature but in their place blazed glimpses of a city with blue gates, people throwing stones at her and that same golden eye stalking her from across a massive courtyard. She had found friends and even love here in Domino and it was a perfect little cocoon she had grown accustomed to; if anyone threatened it then Seto would just fix it. But what if he couldn't fix everything? She had nothing but anger bubbling away inside her for two weeks now. What if he couldn't fix her?

Hands rested on her thighs and she blinked through tears she hadn't even noticed welling. Somehow she managed to lift her heavy head and lock gazes with him.

It was quiet for a long time, but that wasn't a bad thing. She wanted to say so much; to ask was she going mad, to tell him of the terrifying golden eye ... but none of those things came from her lips. Instead Kisara looked down to his hands on her thighs and fidgeted with the bracelet he had bought her. But then Seto's hand found hers and he twirled the engagement ring around her finger.

"Tell me what's wrong. Tell me how to fix it."

More quietness and Kisara could feel her thoughts running amuck; she didn't know where to start. The past two weeks had blurred into a muted mess of thoughts and feelings, but one urge came back to her at every opportunity and it betrayed her again and again. Trying to find the words, she thumbed the cuff of his jacket and ran her finger over the small KC stitched into the fabric.

She had always been a pacifist and hated any kind of confrontation. Years of running from angry shouts and drunken tempers had ensured she shied away from any and all conflict. If Vivian wanted to watch a movie she didn't like, then that was fine and she let her friend choose.

She had never hated anyone in her life. Up until that evening in the kitchen she had always felt pity for her uncle and forced herself to see things from his perspective; he had lost his daughter and suffered from addiction. But something had snapped as she cried on the kitchen floor. Pushing away the memory of the surreal apparition she had seen in her panic, he had called her phone and labelled her an ungrateful bitch. He had tried to sell her company from beneath her. But he had called.

"I hate him ... I hate what he done to me and I want to take everything from him. B-but I don't want to feel like this Seto ..."

Where once she had felt fear, all Kisara had in her chest was a new anger; how dare he even venture to poke his nose into her happy new life.

More silence ticked by then and Seto had to measure his answer very carefully as he brushed her hair behind her ear and found those dark blue eyes ablaze with something he had never seen before.

"I told you once that it's okay not to like someone, but it's fine to feel like this too. You put me to shame Kisara – the way you always try to see the best in someone. Here, shift over ..."

She smiled then and let out a small laugh when he stood from the coffee table and squeezed on to the couch beside her. The arms that found their way around her put everything to right and she instead traced a finger over the face of his platinum watch.

"I missed you."

Nestling closer to Seto, Kisara sighed when he kissed her forehead and felt normal for the first time since the stock-market tumble.

"I didn't go anywhere and I'm not going to either. Whatever he said, whatever you saw ... you're safe. I'm here and I'll protect you Kisara."

She couldn't answer because a lump had formed in her throat; those words were exactly what she had needed to hear. This was her life and she was happy ... her uncle wouldn't ruin it. He had already cost her two weeks and the heavy shadow of her years in France wouldn't steal any more time from her. The quiet private moment was broken then when a red and white blur raced in on her three good legs and clambered up onto the couch. Seto chuckled as the husky curled up with her head in Kisara's lap and looked up to him with sheepish white-blue eyes; she wasn't usually allowed on the couch when he was in the living room.

"I guess I'll have to protect you too, runt."

He ruffled the dog's ears and her bushy tail lashed from side to side, an excited bark earning a laugh from Kisara as she scratched under the blue leather collar.

They whiled the evening away watching re-runs of Takeshi's Castle. Mokuba had asked him multiple times to back a resurrection of the game-show, none too pleased every time he shot down the idea; half the fun was watching the re-runs despite knowing the painful outcomes of the participants.

It was as one unlucky loser ended up diving head-first off of a moving surfboard that Kisara spoke; it had taken her a while to gain some traction, but she was done with pussy-footing around her inheritance. The Estates were supposed to be hers and she would have them; any hesitance she might have had concerning her title had disappeared when her phone smashed against the oven.

"Will you help me?"

"With what?"

"Getting my company."

She looked up at him then and Seto nodded his head, completely sincere in the gesture. She had looked so excited on that beach in Onjuku, babbling about how to re-brand the Estates and re-open the stables; he would do everything in his power to help her get control back from that man.

The front door opened and closed in the foyer. A few seconds later the last member of their ad-hoc family ventured into the living room, smile immediately springing to life when he saw the television, reverting from a teenager to an excited kid.

"Aww man, this is my favourite. Scoot over Kai ..."

Plopping himself down beside the husky, Mokuba watched as one unfortunate woman ended up cornered in the Honeycomb Maze before she was dragged out and dumped into the water. It didn't matter how many times he watched the infamous obstacle course, it still reduced him to giggles every time. It was an awful pity the show had ceased making new episodes many years ago; it was a cult classic!

"Seto I still think you should-"

"I am not funding a revival of Takeshi's Castle."

"Spoil-sport."

Checking his watch, Seto looked to his sulking brother and watched as the teenager yawned into his sleeve before rooting around on the coffee table.

"Where have you been all day?"

Finding the black Sharpie he had abandoned on the table a few days ago, Mokuba smiled in triumph and shrugged before looking to his brother.

"Hung out with Bec all day."

"Rebecca?"

The question came from Kisara and Seto at the same time, both sitting up straighter and ignoring the television. Smirking to himself, Mokuba put the Sharpie to good use and started drawing katakana on Kai's cast. Realising that he was still the focus of their attention, the teenager looked up and flashed a big smile.

"We're just friends and back on good terms. No biggie."

Another contestant bombed out of the game-show by picking the wrong stepping stone. Concentrating on his graffiti work, Mokuba hid a happy smile; the surprised looks passed between Seto and Kisara was the closest they had been to normalcy for a few weeks now.

Looking back to the television just in time to see a sorry sod get sandwiched between two massive rollers, the almost domesticity of the evening wasn't lost on Seto; all four of their thrown together family unit actually in one room and all squashed up on the couch, including the limping dog. Poor Kai and her three good legs. Suddenly aware of what his little brother was doing, Seto stretched out his leg and kicked the teenager.

"Stop writing on her cast!"

"It looks boring all plain and white, I'm just redesigning it."

"By writing your name and drawing a Kuriboh?"

Dodging a cushion that his big brother had tossed at him, Mokuba shook his head with vehemence as Kisara laughed and Kai remained oblivious to the vandalising of her broken leg.

"It's not just a Kuriboh, bro-"

"I'll say, it's a badly drawn Kuriboh- don't you dare, Mokie!"

"Seto don't hide behind me!"

Holding her hands up, Kisara couldn't stop her giggles as Mokuba tried to aim the cushion at his brother, the brave brother who was now using her as a human shield.

Fresh report on the rallying stock-market in hand, Roland paused at the doorway into the living room and thought better of his actions. The markets were recovering as forecasted and everything seemed back on-track. Those boring words could wait until tomorrow morning's updates; there were far more important things happening in that living room right now. A cushion-war had broken out and Mokuba had just landed on the floor, an excited Kai jumping on top of the teenager as Mr. Kaiba ran out of cushions and threw a shoe instead.


"You didn't really think we'd drag you out to a big noisy club, did you hun?"

Blushing into her drink, Kisara shrugged as Mai winked and kicked her beneath the table. Mai had called the mansion's phone last night after the cushion-battle in the living room had turned into a shoe-free-for-all. She had been following up on her threat of a night out from months ago. To say it had been the last thing on her mind would have been an understatement, but Mokuba's encouraging (whilst dodging a thrown Sharpie pen) had made her feel slightly guilty; she hardly saw Mai save for the odd function now and again, and she had definitely been neglecting Vivian lately too.

Absolute dread had filled her stomach all day leading up to getting ready, but the more the night wore on the less anxious she had become. She had been holed up in the mansion for more than two weeks and it was a nice change to get out and see some fresh faces. That and she had come to realise she had been hiding ever since stopping the sale of the Estates, hiding from public view ... but she had no reason to hide and she was done doing so.

Small bars like this one were much more her style than those noisy and messy clubs in the centre of the city. Kisara even dared to think she had enjoyed the past hour as they chatted and gossiped away to their hearts' content.

"Not dressed like that we wouldn't ..."

Levelling Vivian with a look over the brim of her glass, she almost laughed when her friend tried to kick her too, hitting the table instead. There was nothing wrong with her clothes in the slightest; not every venture outdoors had to be a fashion show. Skinny jeans, cream blouse and tan ankle boots; comfy and dressed-up at the same time. Looking around the bar, Vivian probably stood out like a sore thumb in her gorgeous red cocktail dress. Then again she just wouldn't be quintessentially Vivian if she didn't look fabulous at all times. Watching as Viv swore and moved her foot away from the table she had just kicked, Kisara felt a small bit envious; that girl could throw on any outfit or colour or style and still look effortless!

"Isn't that one of Kaiba's goons? Err ... I mean-"

"It's okay Mai."

Now it was Mai's turn to blush and she quickly busied herself draining the last of her vodka mix; years of referring to Kaiba and his suited employees off-hand had really instilled the habit in her. She didn't mean it in a rude gesture; it was just a very old habit that she couldn't break. Looking out over the chatting heads filling up the bar, Kisara saw the person the same time his give-away eyes found her and instead of blushing she smiled. Isamu returned the smile as he collected a few glasses from a table and made his way back to the bar. How odd; members of the security team received very enviable wages, so it made no sense for him to moonlighting as a bar attendant.

"That's Kisara's bodyguard, Isima-"

"Isamu and he's not my bodyguard, he is my self-defence instructor."

Elbowing Vivian out of her personal space, Kisara shook her head and corrected her friend; she had no bodyguard to speak of. But Vivian and Mai were in high spirits and were having none of her shutting down the conversation.

"Self-defence? Next you'll be learning how to escape car trunks!"

"No, that was last month's lesson."

Draining the last of her drink, Kisara giggled at Vivian's dumbfounded expression. Well it was only half-true; Isamu had talked her through the fundamentals of escaping an abduction attempt but hopefully she would never have to use the information because she scarcely recalled the lesson. The only thing that had remained in her mind was to clip one of those KC pins beneath a lapel or hem; they each had locators installed aswell as radio connections should anything ever get serious.

"And what's next month's lesson then? Code-cracking?"

Mai winked and elbowed Vivian as she raised an impeccable blonde eyebrow; she wouldn't put anything past Kaiba and his goons in suits.

"No actually, we've got the Belmont Stakes in New York."

"Stupid horse race stuff, ouch!"

It was Kisara's turn to kick her friend and she found her aim true as Vivian swore and reached down to her assaulted shin.

"Oh okay, it's not stupid. Just make sure you look the part and get some new dresses and don't forget hats either; don't go looking like a complete fashion hermit. Haha missed me, chick!"

Pulling her leg out of the way just in time, Vivian instead stuck her tongue out and winked.

The bar filled up a bit more as the night wore on but it was a small establishment and never became too crowded. Kisara thought she saw the familiar face of Isamu's cousin collecting empty glasses at one point, but the girl disappeared after that. The friendly woman behind the bar had a familiar look about her too, but she had definitely never met her before. Joey Wheeler appeared at their table at one point, a new person accompanying him as he spoke to Mai for a few minutes. They stayed for one drink and Joey introduced the guy as a colleague of his from the museum. Kisara remembered seeing the man when Téa had insisted she go home. He was pleasant and chatted politely and seemed a very amiable man. But then Vivian decided to put her foot in her mouth.

"So, how come you're drinking alcohol if you're from Egypt?"

Oh my God ... Covering her face with her hand, Kisara sank lower in her seat and felt her cheeks burn with second-hand-embarrassment. Kicking at her friend's shin, she tried to stop any more ignorant words from coming out, but Vivian was oblivious as she kicked back.

Thankfully Joey's friend wasn't easily insulted and instead Ahmed just laughed and took a swig of his beer in good nature.

"Because I'm not Muslim."

"I thought everyone over there- stop kicking me already!"

Pulling her leg away in time to avoid a barrage of revenge kicks, Kisara couldn't even speak; Vivian had just managed to sound ignorant and racist in one fell swoop. Joey and Ahmed left the bar not long after that, both citing an early morning for the next day. If she ever saw that guy at the museum again, Kisara made a mental note to apologise to him.

Draining the last of her drink, Kisara could feel the heaviness of the past fortnight lifting from her shoulders. It would be fine the long-run; she had friends and wasn't alone. Friends that seemed dedicated to their task of getting her drunk as another round of drinks hit their table. She missed Téa though and resolved to call the girl once she bought a new phone.

Vodka wasn't the steadfast friend wine had always been to her. That fact revealed itself as the night flew by and the small bar suddenly became stiflingly hot. She felt betrayed; she had always been a champion at holding her alcohol, but this underhanded vodka was untrustworthy – she was fine until it came time to stand from the small table and use the bathroom. Thank goodness for girls and their grouping instinct, or at least for Vivian's insistence that she accompany her to the restroom. Not many people had seen her tipsy, but Vivian held that esteemed honour form their time living together in China.

"Don't you dare throw up or lock that door ... I am not climbing up on a toilet again."

Okay, so locking the door that one time had seemed like an excellent idea; it would have stopped any strangers from barging into her cubicle. But it also meant that when she had fallen asleep poor Vivian had clambered up onto the cistern in the adjoining cubicle (whilst it was occupied) and dropped down over the partition wall.

"Oh that was your fault, I was only seventeen!"

Hissing her answer, Kisara kicked the door closed as her friend made to march into the stall. She wasn't all that bad right now; if she could just stop the room from swaying every so often, then that would be dandy.

"Just give me your purse; I have no phone and I want to go drunk before I get too home ..."

Trailing off as she heard her own voice, Kisara wrinkled her nose up as the person in the next cubicle retched up whatever had been in their stomach. Her words didn't sound entirely in the right order. A cackle from Vivian was her answer and the vibrant red clutch slid into view beneath the door. Fishing out her friend's phone, she had to close one eye to properly focus on the text message before sending it. But then the unfortunate neighbour in the next stall threw up again and she could feel her own stomach turning over in reply.

"Geez, I thought you had flushed yourself down the drain."

Mumbling her thanks for the phone, Kisara handed back the purse and cell; she hated feeling drunk like this – it was far too undignified. It only took a few seconds before a reply text message alert beeped to life and Vivian rolled her eyes when she checked the phone.

"Come on, Kaiba-poo says he's on the way."

But leaning against the wall seemed so comfortable! Putting up a very poor protest, Kisara let Vivian lead her back out of the bathroom and out into the cool night air outside the small bar. But that was a mistake in itself; the fresh air made her feel twice as bad and she would have thrown up again had she anything left in her stomach to spew.

One hand keeping the younger girl pinned to the wall, Vivian tried to call Mai on her cell, but her attention was stolen by an off-balance Kisara each time. She wasn't even angry, just completely entertained by her inebriated friend. Kisara rarely got drunk, but it was always a hoot to watch; how such an eloquent and refined person could change into the sleepy form in front of her was hilarious. The girl had needed a night out to blow off some steam and she had done just that and more at this rate.

But she didn't like leaving Mai in a bar on her own, so Vivian looked around for any sign of Kaiba.

The door of the bar opened and someone was tossed out onto the pavement. The guy landed in an awkward heap and bounded straight to his feet again, all ready for a fight with whoever had thrown him out. It was just a pity that he had underestimated the younger man and it was only a matter of seconds before he found himself back on the pavement with a painful thump.

"Try it again and see where it gets you. The lady told you to get lost, now I'm telling you the same thing."

Shrinking back against the wall, Vivian elbowed Kisara awake as she lurched to one side; her bodyguard was quite the intimidating bouncer when the need arose. Watching as the guy picked himself slowly off the ground, Vivian thought she recognised his good looks and light brown hair. Then realisation hit her.

"You! Oh, you had better get away from here fast Magnum. I'm calling Joey and he won't be happy to hear you've been bothering Mai again!"

Starting to dial the number into her phone, Vivian was relieved when the actor panicked and made a run for it. Jean-Claude Magnum. It had been years since she had seen the wannabe action man. Rumours had been flying around of him shooting another Ninja movie in nearby Tokyo, but the loser had a nerve to seek Mai out again; she had already told him to get lost years ago. Looking to the bodyguard guy – what was his name again? - Vivian gestured towards the inside of the bar.

"Is Mai okay?"

"She's angry; he caused a bit of a scene and tried to propose."

Vivian groaned then and rolled her eyes; Mai had told her all about the actor's past attempt at wooing her. The loser had then tried to kidnap her when she beat him in a duel, only for Joey to put an end to that plan.

"I can wait with Ms. Ashbrook if you want to check on her."

Looking from the bodyguard guy and back to her friend, Vivian weighed up her options and nodded her head; she needed to check on Mai before her friend decided to storm after Jean-Claude and beat his ass.

"Kisara, I have to go inside to Mai. Kaiba's on the way and Isamu here is gonna wait with you, okay? I'll call you in the morning, chick."

Vivian waited until Kisara offered a nod of her head before hugging her friend and heading back into the bar, thanking the bodyguard guy again and hoping she got his name correct.

She didn't know who that stranger had been on the ground, but Vivian had sure sent him scurrying away with his tail between his legs. She was tired and grumpy and felt sick. And yet some illogical part of her brain was demanding two more vodkas and she would be right as rain!

She didn't know how long she spent sitting on the window sill of the bar, but it felt like years. All she wanted was her bed and her pyjamas and another drink and something to eat; was that honestly too much to ask for? Isamu spoke to her and tried to keep her awake, but Kisara had no interest in the conversation whatsoever. Headlights filled her with an unfounded hope that someone had called a takeaway for food.

Isamu waited until his employer stood from the jeep before offering a light bow and heading back into the building; his aunt would need help behind the bar and probably be wondering where he had gotten to.

Hands in pocket, Seto watched Kisara for a long few seconds as she yawned and tied her hair up into a ponytail, a smirk pulling at his mouth. The text message asking to be picked up had contained a few misspelled words and an emoji thrown into the middle of the sentence. Maybe this night out idea of Valentine's had been just the ticket after all.

"Have fun?"

Smiling and nodding, Kisara let herself be led to the jeep and felt all the more sleepy as Seto relinquished his black bomber jacket to her; it was still warm. The inside of the jeep was far more comfortable than the window sill, even with the restricting seat-belt Seto clicked into place. Nestling into the leather seat, she let her forehead lean against the cool glass of the window and watched as Domino passed in a muted blur or traffic and bright lights.

"Who else was out?"

Shifting up a gear, he watched her out of the corner of his eye; ready to pull over should she need to get sick. A conversation would keep her awake long enough to get home.

"Mai and Vivian, oww!"

Reactions a bit sluggish, Kisara cringed when the jeep took a corner and she smacked her forehead off of the window. Rubbing her temple, she decidedly turned away from the window and watched as Seto moved the gearstick again to slow the jeep down to a stop; she would never be able to grasp how to drive.

The traffic light turned green then and Seto moved his attention back to the busy junction; idiots had a habit of appearing from nowhere and cutting across the flow of traffic. Kisara shook her head, all exaggerated movements and unfocused eyes; he had never seen her drunk before and Seto couldn't stop himself smiling as she mumbled on about the night's carry-on; he was finding her inebriated state quite hilarious.

"Ex of Mai's turned up ... Vivian is a racist - Téa is just grumpy ... I'm not clingy ... Oh! can I tell you a secret?"

Part of him was still trying to decipher her mumbles and watch for other drivers at the roundabout; the right of way at this particular intersection was a nightmare to work out. Glancing back to his now-giggling fiancée, Seto nodded.

"Fire away."

"I threw up in Vivian's purse ... then handed it back to her."

Caught completely off-guard, Seto missed the slot for fourth gear and instead slipped the jeep back into first; the revs shot up and he could hear the engine's anger at the rudimentary gear. Hastily pressing down on the clutch and rectifying his mistake, he looked back to Kisara and let out a surprised bark of laughter; oh how much he would love to see Vivian Wong's face in the morning!


When she woke the next morning, it was all she could do to crack her eyes open and close them again just as fast; everything hurt. Forcing herself to sit up, Kisara groaned as her head pounded something awful. Her mouth tasted disgusting and she had no hope for her morning breath. Bits and pieces from last night floated back and she could remember seeing a guy land on his butt outside the bar ... had Isamu been there too?

Looking around for the first time in a bid to find the bedside clock, Kisara scrunched her nose in confusion and pain as her head throbbed. This wasn't her room ... well it was her room - that was the strange thing. The luxurious bedroom had seemed a lovely haven up until a couple of months ago, but now she used it as a massive walk-in wardrobe.

"You fell asleep in the jeep and this was the closest option, here ..."

Looking up, Kisara wanted the ground to swallow her up as Seto walked in from the doorway and handed over a bottle of water and painkillers. She wasn't usually one to get drunk. Taking the proffered bottle and pills, she downed them in one and prayed for the hangover to get lost. Holding her addled head in hands, she glanced sideways at Seto and could see he had been busy in the gym room of the mansion. Sweat darkened the light grey tee in places and normally she would love nothing more than to help take off his workout clothes, but her stomach turned over then and she groaned again.

"Still want to marry me?"

"It was touch and go for a while ..."

Chuckling, Seto sat on the bed and kissed her forehead; that had been one of the funniest drives home ever and he hadn't laughed that hard in a very long time. Looking to him through her fingers, Kisara could well remember mumbling about Vivian being a racist and banging her forehead off of the window; she could really do without an audience as she relived every drunken minute.

"Don't you have a business to run?"

"And miss seeing you like this? Not a chance."

Slowly making herself stand up from the bed, Kisara could see Seto holding in his laughter and she let fly with a pillow. She was feeling very sorry for herself and his amusement wasn't helping at all.

"You should be nice to me ..."

Just about dodging a pillow thrown in revenge, Kisara called over her shoulder as she walked in to her own wardrobe; she needed comfy clothes.

"Oh, why is that?"

How exactly one of Mokuba's sweat bottoms became mixed up with her laundry, she didn't know nor care and pulled them on. A fresh long-sleeved tee and sneakers; she planned on doing very little today. Feeling a small bit more human, Kisara wandered back into the bedroom and found her hairbrush. She dodged another pillow and fired it back at him in retaliation.

"Because this headache might stretch on for a very long time, Seto."

"Are you threatening me with sex?"

Walking backwards with a smile as he stood from the bed, Kisara shook her head.

"Not at all; I'm threatening you with no sex."

He had no answer for her. Instead Seto looked down at those dark blue eyes and smirked as she winked up at him; he loved seeing her sparkier side coming out and he had missed her joking for the past two weeks. Valentine and Vivian might not have been his favourite people in the entire world, but their night out had been inspired. His phone beeped then and Seto frowned at the text message. Watching his face, Kisara could see the confusion and she felt worry spring to life; please don't be the stock-market again.

"What's wrong?"

"Mokuba wants to talk to us."

"Us?"

It was her turn to be confused; normally the teenager's business lay clearly on Seto's side of the invisible line separating their lives.

"Probably wants to know when you started stealing his clothes too."

Kisara blushed then and conceded the smart comment as he led the way out of her bedroom. She didn't know how the tracksuit bottoms had ended up mixed in with her clean laundry, but Mokuba was taller than her and the sweat bottoms were comfortable; completely sufficient for a hangover day.

More confusion ensued when they arrived in the kitchen to find Mokuba sitting on the table, sheets of paper strewn across the surface behind him and Roland standing by the refrigerator. Even the head of security seemed nonplussed by this impromptu meeting. Sensing a trap, Seto narrowed his eyes and levelled his brother with an unimpressed glare.

"If this is about Takeshi's Cas-"

"No, I swear it's not! Though I'm not letting that go."

"Mokuba ..."

Holding his hands up in mock defence, the teenager bowed to his brother's warning tone before grinning and scratching the back of his head.

"So okay, let's see ..."

He spent a long few seconds rocking back and forth on the corner of the table, not quite sure how to approach the topic in a subtle manner. Decidedly abandoning tact, he looked to his brother and shrugged.

"You two never do stuff like date-nights and days out. You know, like a regular couple."

Immediately feeling her cheeks flush with colour, Kisara shrank back a few steps and looked down at her sneakers. She already knew their relationship wasn't exactly traditional without this unexpected conversation throwing a spotlight on the arranged-marriage prospect. Hands rested on her shoulders and gave her the lightest squeeze of reassurance. She was relieved to feel Seto standing behind her, equally thrown by his little brother's blunt words. Even Roland bristled and shifted his weight from one foot to the other; he felt like an unwarranted fly on the wall.

"Would you like to be grounded like a regular teenager?"

Realising his mistake too late, Mokuba quickly shook his head and looked abashed; he hadn't meant to sound so insensitive. Flashing an apologising smile at Kisara, he fidgeted with his card pendant and tried to salvage his plan.

"I didn't mean it like that, honestly! What I'm saying is that you guys are always followed by the press whenever you try to do something. But what if we can bribe them into giving you some privacy?"

The excitement in Mokuba's voice gained the room's attention. Shuffling through some sheets of paper, he found what he was looking for and handed the short statement over to his brother; it was just a sample of what he intended, but the important points of the plan were clear.

"This is just a mock-up, but it's the main gist of things."

Running an eye over the typed words, Seto looked to his little brother in surprise; this was a big ask for him to undertake. Standing on her tiptoes to read the printed writing, Kisara was the first to speak.

"Mokuba we can't ask-"

"You're not; I'm offering. I don't care about the media and I already have accounts on most social media platforms. All I need to do is change the privacy setting to public; if the press don't play by our rules then I'll just change them back to private and they'll get no updates. Simple."

Handing the sheet to Roland, Seto could see the logic in the plan; the media would get candid photographs or videos every so often provided that a boundary of privacy was established. As much as he disliked the press, Seto knew the media had them backed into a corner. The Kaiba name was a brand and they needed publicity to sell that brand. But the reporters and public didn't want to know about boring system-updates the entire time; he and Mokuba had been their primary targets for years and now Kisara fell into that scope too.

"Roland what do you think? Can the PR team push this?"

Reading the printed edict, Roland nodded slowly. He had seen plans like this implemented before. It was in the media's best interests to comply; they would have personal pictures released from Mokuba's accounts instead of hurried photographs taken in a panicked rush before the security team stopped the photographer.

"It seems a good idea, sir. I can get Rin to alert the PR team and have this issued by lunchtime."

Looking back to Mokuba, Seto tried to find some hint of wavering in the teenager's eyes; some hint of apprehension that would give him grounds to say no.

"You're sure about this?"

"Seto, you let me host a dueling tournament when I was thirteen. I think I can handle a few Snapchats now and again. I like doing the public-relations things and I'm good at, I'm just saying we might aswell get some privacy out of it too."

The kid was right; he was likeable and loved doing any public emceeing when the need arose. Making up his mind, Seto nodded towards Roland and the man offered a light bow before making for the swinging door and disappearing out into the foyer. Relieved to have this plan going into motion, Mokuba swung his legs happily. At least they would get a bit of breathing space from photographers if this all went to plan.

"Oh, I almost forgot! I got Roland to pick this up for you, Kisara – catch!"

Her reactions were still sluggish and Kisara almost swore when she missed the small box Mokuba tossed her way and fumbled it; Seto caught it effortlessly in one hand.

"What is it?"

"New phone, thought you could do with one."

Opening the plain brown box, Kisara smiled as she took out the sleek black touchscreen handset; she had been lost without her phone for the last fortnight. It was gorgeous and new with not a single fingerprint or scratch marring the silver KC inlaid on the back of the device.

"I didn't know KaibaCorp make phones."

"Technically we don't. They're not for public retail; Mokuba, me and select members of staff have models but this is the newest prototype – there's a tiny hologram sealer beside the camera ... it should work."

Swiping right on the screen, Seto didn't hold much hope for the miniscule Solid Vision generator. They had been trying to get the little holograms to work for months now but they just kept throwing up bugs and glitches that crashed the phones.

"How did you get the same background?"

Stopping Seto before he could swipe off of the homescreen, Kisara looked to Mokuba. Her homescreen on her old phone had been her favourite picture of herself and Vivian on the Great Wall of China; she had thought she'd lost the image when her phone smashed against the oven.

"Err ... I've had a lot of practice taking phones apart. I just dismantled your old phone and backed up the data onto the base memory chip for this one. But I did give you a new number just in case you didn't want certain people calling ..."

Trailing off, Mokuba deliberately veered away from mentioning her uncle; at least with a different number the asshole would have a harder time trying to call her up. He didn't know the guy, but Mokuba had already mentally labelled him a jackass for upsetting his future sister-in-law.

"Maybe you should wait a few days before giving Vivian that number too ..."

Swiping away the homescreen again, Seto smirked as he tried to find the icon for the Solid Vision generator; if the damned thing worked it would open up a whole other market of android dueling games. And maybe, just maybe he might even speak to those idiots at Apple if they offered enough money for an iOS format. Pulling the phone out of his reach, Kisara scrunched her nose up in confusion and swiped back to the homescreen; why not give Viv the number straight away?

"Why should ... No, I didn't!"

A foggy memory from last night floated back right on cue and Kisara clamped a hand to her mouth. She could remember being in the bathroom stall and holding the door shut with her leg, and then Vivian had slid her purse under the door. But then she had felt sick when the person in the next cubicle started throwing up ... Turning around to look up at Seto, she prayed she had just dreamt up the horrible flashback. But his hearty laughing put an end to that hope and she shoved him away; Vivian was going to kill her!

Watching as his brother carried on laughing, Mokuba had no clue what Kisara's panic was about but he didn't mind being out of the loop; it had been a long time since his big bro had smiled and laughed like that. He was happy, and that made Mokuba smile like a little kid again. But then the swinging door of the kitchen opened and Kimiko poked her timid head around it.

"Apologies, but a man named Croquet is at the door."

Bounding from the kitchen table, Mokuba swore when he was too slow to beat his brother out into the foyer. Roland had gotten wind of the visitors and was halfway down the stairs; if he got his hands on Croquet there would be blood for sure. Oh great, Kemo was there too; that meant Seto's temper would skyrocket. Roland and Croquet hated each other since Industrial Illusions' attempt at a hostile takeover and Seto had had some kind of run-in with Kemo on Duelist Kingdom Island. And the lummox had just decided to open his big mouth and try to explain himself.

"Ah Mr. Kaiba, I have-"

"You two have got a nerve to come to my home."

This was bad. In all his planning and scheming, Mokuba hadn't considered the prospect of Seto and Roland being in the mansion when the stuff finally arrived; he had been hoping both of them would be in KaibaCorp and be none the wiser. Instead he was faced with the all-too real likelihood of a Duelist Kingdom showdown.

"Seto wait, it's fine. I asked them to deliver some things!"

A look passed between Seto and Roland before they both turned to stare at the teenager in a mixture of angry disbelief.

"You what?"

Ignoring Roland's shocked question, Mokuba avoided his brother's glare and instead looked to Croquet.

"Just leave the boxes here please."

Though very apprehensive about the formidable Roland and the older Kaiba, Croquet nodded and gestured for Kemo to do as instructed; they were here on their employer's orders after all. The front door closed with a quiet click a few edgy minutes later and three archive boxes sat in the middle of the foyer by dint of Croquet and Kemo. Deciding that there was no way to circumvent the questions, Mokuba looked to Kisara and smiled; might aswell get the entire truth out in one go.

"These are for you. I overheard you two talking a few weeks ago, so I tracked Pegasus down and he agreed to send those two with your parents' belongings. I didn't think it through entirely, sorry Seto."

Blinking dumbly, Kisara stepped forward and looked at the three dusty boxes. She didn't know how to feel; she was surprised and stunned all at once. More confused than angry, Seto looked to Roland who seemed just as lost as him. He felt like the wool had been pulled over his eyes; he hadn't had one iota about this plan.

"How did you find where he lived?"

"Used the tournament registering information to find his address in Harajuku."

"You went to Shibuya on your own?"

Scuffing his foot on the floor, Mokuba shook his head and shrugged, glad that the sudden anger in the room had seemed to fizzle out fairly fast.

"Of course I didn't ... Rebecca came with me."

Looking again from Roland and back to Mokuba, Seto didn't know whether to berate the teenager or admire his sneaking skills. Just when had that little kid grown up into the resourceful schemer standing in front of him now?

Though she knew nothing of the past between the Kaibas and Maximillion Pegasus, Kisara could tell it wasn't all forgive-and-forget. Even during the tournament, Mokuba had never refereed any of Maximillion's duels and Seto only spoke fleetingly to the game's creator on one occasion. Something must have happened to irreparably cleave the two halves of Duel Monsters' corporate allies apart. But to think that the teenager had travelled to Tokyo and found her mother's employer for the sole reason of getting her parents' things ... she was astounded.

"You did all that for me?"

Looking to Kisara, Mokuba nodded his head resolutely and smiled happily. She had wanted her parents' things and asked Seto to speak with Pegasus. But then there had been the break-in and the stock-market dip, and then the whole phone call drama. So he had seen his chance to help and taken it.

Lifting the lid on one of the boxes, Kisara saw a few dusty pictures of familiar faces. Her mother's picture was in there along with countless other trinkets she half-remembered. She let the box close again and turned to look up at Seto's younger brother. She wanted to say thank-you, to tell him how much this meant to her. But she just couldn't find the words to express her feelings so Kisara did the only thing that felt right; she hugged the teenager tight.

Stepping backwards to catch his balance, Mokuba chuckled and returned her hug, glad that he had made the right decision. Looking down at his brother's fiancée, he nodded once more and grinned happily.

"Of course I did; you're family."


A/n- Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you liked the chapter; I just wanted to write a chapter that anchors the characters back to the core cast. Yes, I love bringing Yugi and gang into the plot, but this is a Seto and Kisara fic at heart and Mokuba too! And thanks for all the lovely messages on here and on Tumblr too!

Note 1: Paper Roses turned seven-years-old last month and I just wanted to say thanks so much! When I thought up my little plotbunny in a free class in school, I never could have imagined that I would still be writing it a whole seven years later. And too have such an amazing amount of readers is just inexplicable!

Note 2: There are various little allusions to real things in Japan and also to Duelist Kingdom in this chapter, oh and Jean-Claude was a complete ass from the anime!