Concessions


Pegasus stared at Seto for fifteen minutes without turning on the speaker. He expected him to scoff at the silence and retreat to the bathroom, find something to read and bury himself in it. He did so love the small notions of escape he had left.

But Seto hadn't done any of those things. For the first few seconds, he waited, eyebrow raised, stress ball partially dismembered in his hand. Pegasus imagined him counting crumbs of packing foam as he rolled them each into neat, round balls between his index finger and thumb. Ammunition. Then, he made the bed. Wiped the glass. It was simple and domestic and Pegasus felt oddly warm in the glow of it. These everyday intimacies were new, and through the blatant manipulation, he let himself enjoy them.

Mokuba's comment still echoed. The last three nights he slept, he dreamt of it in place of her voice. He had sent a child to hell and condemned him now a second time.

He didn't want to admit it, but he owed them something for that.

It was okay if that meant indulging Seto's show of being harmless.

"Such a pity you can't have an oven in there, I'm imagining you cooking Sunday dinner."

"It's Thursday." Seto said without missing a beat.

"Every day is a Sunday now."

"Are you going to spend them all staring at me?"

"Back just far enough the glass doesn't give away my heavy breathing." Pegasus quipped.

Seto straightened the books, brushing non existent dust from their soft covers. "Why like this?" He asked. "I assume Mokuba's isn't the same."

"Mokuba's what?"

Prison cell?

Were they somehow communicating? No, that was impossible. He was being paranoid.

"Graciously allocated space. Or whatever flowery language you want me to use instead of cage."

"Are you asking why you're the only one in glass? You are, you know."

"Then yes." It was the first time today Seto didn't look him in the eyes.

"I liked being able to see right through you." Pegasus said, watching Seto toss his washcloth into the bathroom, it's thud muted against the wall of the tub. "More than that, I couldn't afford to give it up."

"You didn't want to."

"Not for a moment, and with good reason. I like to think this has given us a deeper understanding of each other."

And into the bathroom he went. Just like clockwork.