"Seto…! I hate this!" Mokuba cried, fanning himself with one hand and gripping the hiking pole with the other as he struggled to keep up with his older brother's long strides. "Camping sucks. The outside sucks."

Kaiba grit his teeth and said nothing, hating how the heat beat down on his shoulders while they lagged at the back of the group. He could see the tour guide's neon orange hat several feet away, but the distance was slowly growing.

Sighing, he stopped and waited for his little brother to catch up.

"Hurry up, kid, or we'll lose the group," Kaiba said stiffly, trying not to let the heat affect him, but damn, it was fucking humid. Every breath was heavy, and the air was thick.

"I don't wannnaaaa anymoooore!" Mokuba whined, leaning against the nearest trunk and puffing with effort. "I wanna go home now!"

"You're the one who said you wanted a real jungle experience," Kaiba replied furiously, holding his hand out for his brother to hold. "Come on. We're losing them."

Mokuba groaned and slapped the hand away, storming ahead and kicking the dirt as he went. Kaiba sighed and shook his head in amusement.
He hated this experience too, but Mokuba had insisted on it, so it was a relief to know the kid was hating it just as much.
This was by far the worst birthday request ever. Hopefully, Mokuba would learn his lesson next year and ask for something more reasonable, like a new pool, or hell, something boring, like a car, but the kid was barely twelve. He'd probably ask for something ridiculous like a new helicopter or something.

Pushing a low hanging vine out of his face, Kaiba stepped carefully over a muddy puddle to catch up to Mokuba who was already at the heels of another tour group member. The American woman turned to give him a gentle smile, and Mokuba grimaced back at her.

They arrived in a small clearing and people were beginning to take breaks, swigging water and sitting down on stray mossy logs while shrugging off their packs with tired sighs.

"Okay people, we are almost there," the tour guide announced in English, and Mokuba rolled his eyes, leaning against the trunk closest to Seto and giving his brother a pleading look.

"Please, can you call a chopper and get us out of here?" Mokuba grumbled, and Kaiba shook his head firmly, trying to pay attention to what the tour guide was saying, but Mokuba kept whining at his side.

"I wanna go home, I wanna go hooome!" Mokuba crossed his arms and sat down in the dirt, pouting heavily.

People in the group were turning to give them dark looks, and Kaiba bit back an annoyed sigh, bending down and resting his palm atop Mokuba's head reassuringly.

"We'll call the chopper when we reach the famous waterfall, alright? Can you please stop whining?" Kaiba whispered, and the tour guide called out to them.

"Everything okay back there?"

"Yes, everything is…fine," Kaiba answered, his ears burning with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment as he reminded himself to speak English. It was getting tiresome to switch between Japanese and English. The purpose of the trip was to also improve on their conversational English, but Mokuba was spending more time throwing tantrums in Japanese than speaking English to anyone in their group, which only had two children, both of whom were over the age of 14 and had called Mokuba 'a baby' behind his back.

Having overheard this, Mokuba had stuck quietly by Seto's side after the first leg of the hike, looking glum.

People were shuffling their packs back onto their bodies, and Kaiba patted Mokuba's head gently again.

"Kid…we're moving. Ready to stand up?" Kaiba asked kindly, bracing himself to hear more whines, but to his relief, his brother stood up silently and nodded.

"Can I have some water?" Mokuba demanded, and Kaiba tried not to roll his eyes.

"Why didn't you ask for it earlier?" Kaiba gave Mokuba an exasperated look, but obliged and slid the pack off his back to grab the water bottle attached to the side, and handed it to him.

"Thanks," Mokuba said gruffly, swiping the bottle away from him and sucking loudly on the thick plastic straw, drawing more odd looks from people in their group.

Kaiba felt a headache coming on, but he didn't say anything. The more he commented on Mokuba's behavior, the more he knew Mokuba would act out.

The tour guide's voice was echoing down from the trail again, and people were dispersing, leaving them behind in the clearing.

"Okay people, there's a lot of overgrowth here, but we'll manage…"

Kaiba tapped his foot impatiently. Mokuba kept the water bottle to his mouth, still taking an obnoxious amount of time to drink because he was clearly stalling for time.

"Kid," Kaiba began, trying to keep his patience in check. "They're leaving us behind again."

"Don't…care," Mokuba pouted, and Kaiba ground his teeth furiously, reaching for the bottle but Mokuba dodged him cleverly.

"Not done yet!" He protested, and Kaiba lost the last ounce of his patience. He lunged forward and wrestled the bottle out of Mokuba's tiny hands.

"OwowOW!" Mokuba cried, fighting back with gusto and stomping on Kaiba's toes, spraying dirt all over the tops of his shoes.

Kaiba hissed in pain and looped his long arms around his brother's shoulders to playfully restrain him.

"Mokuba, I fucking swear—"

A branch snapped loudly behind them, and the brothers froze.

"Whatssat?" Mokuba cried shrilly, and something whizzed by Kaiba's ear so fast, he could hear a soft whistle.

Whipping his head around, Kaiba was horrified to see a steel arrow sticking straight out from the tree trunk beside his head. The metal gleamed threateningly at them in the harsh sunlight filtering in from the trees above, and Kaiba blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening.

He released Mokuba and backed away from the tree, hearing Mokuba's panicked gasps filling the air.

"Wh-What is that? What is that?!" Mokuba's eyes widened fearfully as he pointed at the arrow.

Kaiba hissed at him to be quiet and stepped protectively in front of him when groups of naked men, wearing nothing but loincloths appeared through the trees. Mokuba's grip on his hand tightened and grew clammy.

"H-Hey, Seto…?" Mokuba trembled, clinging to his older brother when the men advanced on them in the clearing, all carrying sharp, pointed weapons. "This is a prank, right? S-Someone is pranking us…"

"Be quiet, don't speak," Kaiba breathed, keeping his grip iron-like around his little brother's hand. The travel guide had mentioned there was a peaceful native tribe that lived here, but that they wouldn't be traversing through their territory.
These tanned, muscular naked men did not seem peaceful.

More footsteps crunched through the trees, and the Kaiba brothers whipped their heads around to look behind them, shocked to see their entire tour group being marched back into the clearing with their hands tied behind their backs and brown, woven sacks covering their heads.

Everyone was missing their packs, and some people had streaks of mud on their clothes as evidence of fighting.

Oh…shit, Kaiba paled and turned to throw his arms around Mokuba's body, hugging him tightly and feeling his little brother going limp with terror.

Two men advanced towards them with their spears pointed threateningly as a third approached with two woven bags for their heads. The man paused an arm's length away and silently held the bag out towards them.

Mokuba tensed fearfully and buried his face into Seto's chest, feeling his brother's arms tightening around his body in response.

"If you can get away, run…as fast as you can…" Kaiba whispered into the top of Mokuba's head as the men continued to advance around them.

He gave Mokuba one last squeeze before slowly letting go and straightened up to give the man holding the woven bags an apprehensive glare.

The man drew closer, and Kaiba seized this chance to snatch the bag out of his hand and lunge forward to shove it on top of his head instead. A rousing shout echoed around the clearing as Kaiba tackled the man to the ground and rolled off his body with Mokuba's frantic shrieks piercing his ears.

"Seto! Behind you!"

Kaiba spun around and lashed out with his feet first, catching a man in his shins and sending him crumpling to the ground, howling in pain. Not wasting a moment, Kaiba yanked the spear from the man's hand and jumped to his feet, ready to fight off anyone else who came at him.

The naked men were hovering around Mokuba, who had been forced to ground on his knees with a bag over his head, and Kaiba gripped the spear tighter, counting the heads.
There were eight men.
Nine, if he included the man on the ground. Shit.

Something sharp stung him in the leg, and Kaiba glanced down slowly, his blood running cold when he saw a feathery dart sticking out from his thigh, and his vision brightened steadily while his ears rang tinny.

Oh fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.

"SETO! …SETO?! SETO!"

Mokuba was screaming his name hysterically.

His grip on the spear was weakening and his knees were shaking.

Kaiba struggled to stay on his feet, glaring at all the hostile faces surrounding him before his world flashed in a colorful blur and he collapsed.

Slowly opening his eyes, Kaiba's head pounded unpleasantly when he realized he was sitting upright and his vision was obscured with the horrible woven bag. Sunlight filtered in from the tiny dotted gaps in the bag, and the stench of horse manure was overwhelmingly thick.

It stung his nose and made his headache worse.

His lower back was sore from bumping repeatedly against the uncomfortable seat, and the soft conversations carried by his captors were in a language he couldn't understand. He tried to move his hands but realized his wrists were bound with a stiff rope, and his skin was chafing terribly.

"Mokuba?" Kaiba called hoarsely, wondering if his brother was nearby. He felt a soft movement beside him that gave him a brief spark of hope. Then, he received a swift punch in the gut that knocked the air from his lungs.

Coughing weakly, Kaiba cursed and retaliated by driving his elbow in the person who had hit him, and he felt the entire seat rock as the man shouted something, and many hands began grabbing at him, pinning him down.

Kaiba fought back viciously, trying to count the pairs of hands until something stung him in the leg again and he passed out.

Waking up slowly again, Kaiba pried his eyes open slowly and pressed a hand to his forehead which was damp with sweat. His lungs were tight, and his body was limp from the rough treatment.

Sitting up slowly, Kaiba's head spun so violently that he was drowned by a sudden wave of nausea. It was so intense, he doubled over and heaved, vomiting on the ground, which was covered in a strange tarp.

"Oh…so he's alive…" Someone said in very American drawl, and Kaiba couldn't move for a solid minute, so he took his time, composing himself, forcing himself to take deep breaths and trying to figure out what the fuck was going on.

First thing he did notice was that his shoes were gone.
Probably to keep him from running very far.
Second, was that there were other pairs of bare feet on the ground all around him, and there were beds. Many beds.

Reeling, Kaiba clawed his way up to the bed and sat down on the edge, his vision horribly bright and his ears still ringing unpleasantly.
Fuck. Was this a concussion?

Pressing a hand to his head again, Kaiba realized his wrists were no longer bound, but one hand was cuffed to the bed with a very long chain.

He rattled it and heard his neighbor speak in English again.

"Don't bother."

Kaiba grit his teeth and ignored him, choosing instead to scan the room frantically, trying to see if Mokuba was nearby, but he realized he was in a tent with other men he didn't recognize.
Not a child in sight, and no one from his tour group was here either.

Clenching his fists, Kaiba finally composed himself enough for human interaction and looked at the man on the neighboring bed, taking in his awfully plain appearance, his blonde hair and blue eyes. The stranger's clothes were also streaked with mud, and Kaiba quickly glanced down at himself, hating how he was also dirty. His shirt had holes in the shoulder seams from his violent scuffles.

Kaiba opened his mouth to speak but his throat almost closed instantly from how dry and scratchy it was, so he swallowed thickly and tried again, making sure to speak English.

"Where are we?"

"Disneyland. Where the hell else?" His neighbor scoffed, giving him a contemptuous look. "Do you know who I am?"

Kaiba shook his head, hearing the men around them shuffle uncomfortably, the clinking of their chains hitting their bedposts as they edged away. The silence in the tent was unnerving given how many of them were packed together, almost knee-to-knee on these tiny beds. No one was making eye contact with anyone.
His neighbor was the only one talking. It was too hot and humid in the tent to even form a coherent sentence, and this man wouldn't shut up.

"You don't know who I am?" The man asked incredulously, folding his arms haughtily across his chest. "I am Davy Taron! Founder of !"

"Cool. Never heard of you, you fucking nobody," Kaiba muttered under his breath, and the man bristled at this.

"I'm worth more than everyone in this tent combined!" The man shouted at him, his cheeks reddening with anger. "Who the hell are you, you fucking nobody?!"

Kaiba raised his head and stared blankly at the man, his head spinning from another horrible wave of nausea. Damn…whatever the fuck they put in the dart had really fucked him up. He leaned forward and tucked his head between his knees, trying to suppress a dry heave clawing its way up his stomach.

His vomit from earlier had already dried in a nasty patch on the ground by the bed, and Kaiba recoiled at the horrible scent.
Fuck this. Fuck everything.
The guy beside him was still yelling at him for no reason.

"…I'm on the brink of creating cutting-edge tech! If these barbarians hadn't stormed the resort, we wouldn't be in this mess! Right, Ed?" The man turned to address his neighbor on the other side of the bed, and the man named Ed shrank away to avoid his gaze.

There was a brief silence before someone spoke up four beds down. "I'm not a hotshot tech-guru like you, but I have a wife and kid. I'm worth something!"

"Yeah!" Someone else chimed in angrily, rattling his handcuff chain loudly against the metal bedpost. "I've got a family to go home to as well! Who are you to say you're worth more than me?"

The men in the tent began to shout at each other, and Kaiba cradled his head, desperately wishing for the silence earlier.
Why was this happening?
Why was this happening?
Where was Mokuba, and why was he chained to a bed with other foreigners who all spoke English?
Had they been…sorted by their looks?
Was that why he'd been separated from Mokuba?

"HEYA HEYA ALA ALAHEY!" Someone shouted a chant louder than the others, and a hollow banging sound followed. Everyone quieted instantly.

Kaiba winced and looked up to see a group of three men standing at the mouth of the tent, wearing plain clothes and carrying large machine guns strapped to their sweaty bodies.

One man was holding a metal pot and a rock.
He banged it together loudly again and Kaiba hissed to himself, pressing a hand to his forehead, still reeling from a drug-induced headache.

"He started it!" His neighbor pointed an accusing finger at him, and Kaiba froze as one of the men broke away from the group to approach them.

The man lifted his gun and pointed it directly at Kaiba, his black, beady eyes roaming over his face intrusively. Kaiba sat rooted to the spot in horror as the man slowly moved the barrel of the gun away from his chest…to aim at his neighbor's stomach and pulled the trigger.

Bullets ripped through the air, the horrible stench of gunpowder and blood clouded Kaiba's senses as he sat on the edge of his bed. Warm blood splattered onto the side of his arms, shoulder, and face.

His neighbor crumpled to the floor in a twitching, bloody heap while still alive, moaning and whimpering.

The violent man shouted something at his comrades over his shoulder, and the other two men rushed forward to drag the still-convulsing body out of the tent, leaving a bloody trail behind them as a solid warning.

Then, he pointed the gun at Kaiba again briefly, said something in another language, and walked out of the tent.

Thoroughly traumatized, Kaiba stayed very still, the room spinning wildly as his throat constricted suddenly, and he had to bend forward to vomit all over the floor again.

Noises of disgust echoed through the tent, but no one dared to say or do anything.

Too fatigued to care about how he appeared to others, Kaiba gasped for breath and angled his head away from his own puddle of sick, hating how his heart thundered in his ears.
His vision was blurry, and he was on the verge of passing out.
Either he was scared shitless or he'd been poisoned by the dart.

Voices were coming from the mouth of the tent again, and everyone tensed fearfully as the men with guns lifted the flap and stepped back inside, followed by two more people who were wearing heavy cloaks.

Kaiba raised his head with effort and stared, noting that these people were insane because they were covered from head to toe in million-degree weather. They'd gone from being naked, spear-carrying barbarians to fully cloaked freaks. What was next?

Kaiba grit his teeth and observed the newcomers carefully, relieved that neither seemed to be carrying guns.
One was tall and the other was short, much shorter than all the other men.
Perhaps…a woman?

A deep voice resonated from the small figure wearing the cloak, and Kaiba let out a depressed sigh. Not a woman.

"Who are these people?" Atem asked the guards stiffly, noting that all the men looked disheveled and frightened.

His protector, Mahad, rested a restraining hand on his shoulder and squeezed, silently asking him not to press with more questions, but Atem ignored him.
He'd come here to make peace with this violent tribe, so he was determined to succeed.
These men in the tent were not part of the peace treaty, and in fact, this tent had been glossed over when negotiating boundaries.

"These people…? They're not people," the guard chuckled, and his comrades laughed along with him, raising the hair along Atem's neck.

"I don't understand." Atem said firmly, and Mahad's hand on his shoulder grew heavier, but still he ignored it.

Kaiba strained to decipher what language they were speaking, but his pounding headache was making it hard for him to keep his gaze steady on the two cloaked figures.

"They're going to be shipped to the next village over," the guard said, shrugging. "Chief says they'll be put to work to earn food and shelter. They're foreigners so they can't understand us."

"I can see that." Atem said, his temper flaring briefly when he realized the chief had neglected to mention he had hostages ready to be sold. "Release them!" He demanded, and Mahad's hand became iron hot on his shoulder.

"Didn't get an order for that, so I won't," the guard replied coldly, resting his hand threateningly on the butt of his gun.

Mahad saw this and tensed, his back drenched in cold sweat.
King Atem was so…brave, but so careless with his words. They were outnumbered here, and nothing was stopping the hostile tribe from killing them on the spot, treaty or not.

There was already a trail of blood on the ground, could Atem not see that?!

"Well I don't appreciate your leader omitting information about how you deal with trespassers," Atem pushed back with equal hostility. "I'm going back to re-negotiate with him. Either free these men or give them to me. Those are my conditions for peace between us."

"Atem…" Mahad hissed under his breath, but his plea was drowned by the rambunctious laugher from the three gun-carrying guards.

"We'll see about that!" The guard grinned nastily and nodded at one of his comrades behind him. "Give it to me."

Kaiba watched with bated breath as one of the men produced a satellite phone, and he salivated at the sight of it. A phone! Salvation! He could somehow get his hands on it and call for help!

His spirits fell when he reminded himself that he was up against three men carrying semi-automatic weapons in skin-blistering heat. They'd gun him down before he even had a chance to stand up from the bed he was chained to, and he was in no condition to fight back, but…. the phone….! It was so close…he could practically feel his fingers closing around the hard plastic….

Atem noticed one of the men staring intently at him, and he stared right back, mildly shocked to discover that the man had extremely clear blue eyes, and sharp, handsome features. Even from a distance, the man's intense gaze was drilling holes into him, and it made him uncomfortable.

Mahad also noticed this and stepped protectively in front of Atem. That man looked weak, but had a determined glint in his eye that signified danger.

Kaiba didn't notice the movement from the men in cloaks at all. He was too focused on the satellite phone, and his eyes followed it until it disappeared behind one of the men's backs, safely hooked onto his belt and out of view.
DAMN.
Kaiba hissed in annoyance and forced himself to look away.
Better not do anything rash right now.

Atem snuck a glance out from behind Mahad's back and saw the handsome man look away quickly, his ears bright red.
What an odd reaction.

The guard turned to him with a grimace and said, "You may have one. That is what he said."

"One?" Atem raged, and Mahad decided he'd had enough. He grabbed Atem by the arm and tried to pull him out of the tent, but the king resisted, still intent on picking a fight with the guards.

"You did not specify this tent during our agreement!" The guard said, leering, and his two comrades chuckled, nodding.

"Your chief purposely neglected to mention it!" Atem growled, and Kaiba wondered if he could safely fit under the bed in case bullets started flying again, because a fight seemed to be brewing. One guy had a gun, and the other guy did not have a gun.
The guy with the gun had already shot someone repeatedly minutes before this interaction, so it wasn't looking good for the short guy in the cloak.

"Well, you can take one, or none," the guard said loftily, unhooking the gun from his belt and Mahad shook his head vehemently, still trying to wrestle Atem out the door.

The men on the beds began shifting uncomfortably, watching this scene unfold before them.

"PLEASE! TAKE ME!" A man cried from the far end of the room. He threw himself on the ground on his knees and placed his hands together in a prayer. "Please!"

Kaiba shook his head in disbelief, not understanding what the yelling was about. Were these people insane? Did they not see that the last person who talked got shot?!

Kaiba eyed the man with the gun again, and then glanced back at the tall man in the cloak. He could see the man's face clearly for the first time, and fear was etched across his features. His tanned knuckles were white from how tightly they curled over a slender wrist adorned with golden bands, and Kaiba understood that that man was there to protect the smaller one.

He eyed the door, and the tall cloaked man's eyes followed his gaze.

Kaiba nodded slowly and aimed his stare back at the man's gun, hoping he was communicating clearly enough.
That man. Will Shoot. Anyone.
Fucking. Run.

Atem swallowed thinly, his anxiety rising when men from neighboring beds began to beg for them to be freed as well, and his arm was going numb from how tightly Mahad was hanging onto him. All the hostages were throwing their dignity away in hopes of being saved…all except one man. The handsome one with clear blue eyes.
He remained still on the edge of the bed, looking pale, and was glaring determinedly at…Mahad?
Deeply confused, Atem saw the handsome man give Mahad a miniscule nod, and Mahad nodded in return.
Were they communicating?

"Please, take me, take me!" The man closest to him fell to his knees and began speaking parts of their language in broken sentences. "They will kill me! Please!"

Kaiba's skin crawled when he saw the men around him blatantly begging…. for their lives? At this point, he was the only one who wasn't on the ground on his knees. What was happening?!

His heart nearly stopped when the short man in the cloak pointed directly at him and said something in the foreign language before he was dragged out of the tent by the taller man once and for all.

Oh shit. What did that man just say?! Why the pointing?
Fuck. He was going to die for real now.

Kaiba swallowed, hating how his throat stung with the remnants of his own sick, and realized his mouth was completely dry.
He was parched.
When was the last time he'd had a drink of water?

The men with guns were advancing on him, and the people around him were all glaring venomously at him.

Right. The last time he'd had a sip of water was on the hike, while Mokuba was throwing a tantrum on the trail.
Mokuba.

The barrel of the gun pointed at him and Kaiba stared blankly at it, unable to feel or think about anything else other than how dirty the gun was from all the old, dried blood.

"Good bye," the guard said gruffly in English, and Kaiba stared into the man's ugly face, feeling one last surge of hatred for him before a bag was thrown over his head and something sharp stung him in the arm.

Again. These brutes and their fucking darts.
Maybe this was a mercy killing because he wasn't being shot to death.

At least my body will be recognizable, Kaiba thought dully before he let the dizzying darkness consume him.

Outside, sitting in their carriage, Atem watched apprehensively as the three men dumped a limp, blanket-covered body into the back of the cart. They snickered evilly as they slunk back into the shade of the tent.

His stomach churned with a horrible feeling, and he forced himself to stay composed.
He'd only managed to save one man.
What was the point of asking for peace if this was how they'd behave?
Being king was meaningless if no one obeyed orders.

"My king," Mahad spoke up beside him, gripping the reins with a steady hand. "We're off now."

"Wait!" Atem held up a hand, craning his neck anxiously at the limp body in the back of their cart. "I need to see if he's—"

"Dead?" Mahad asked aggressively, snapping the reins and urging the horses forward through the sweltering heat.

"No! I need to see if they gave us the right man!" Atem protested.

"Atem…listen to me," Mahad turned to give the young king a sympathetic grimace. "Whether or not they gave us the right man doesn't matter. You understand we can't argue with cruelty, right? All those men are as good as dead."

Atem opened his mouth to continue protesting, but Mahad wasn't done speaking his mind.

"You're lucky they agreed to the peaceful terms we set, and that's only because of the rise of these foreigners traipsing through our lands unannounced. Take the victory along with the corpse. We did all that we could."

Deciding not to argue, Atem crossed his arms and leaned back into the seat, his mind full of the handsome man's fiery gaze.
What a waste if they had killed that man. He was pretty.

"I saw something in that man's eyes," Atem commented, and Mahad nodded slowly in agreement.

"Yes…he is, or rather, was…very intelligent," Mahad said quietly, thinking the handsome man had given him a dire warning. If they had stayed a second longer, they would have been killed. "Let's hurry before the rot starts to reek. We'll dispose of him respectfully."

Atem set his jaw and didn't reply. His chest was tight with anger. Peace was impossible.
If this was the only way he could manage to save a person—by relieving the neighboring village of corpses—then why did they even continue to try?

Annoyed, Atem drew the cloth tighter over his head to shield himself from the sun and willed himself to stay composed.
He would not think about the corpse in the back of their carriage.
That man was a stranger who met an unfortunate end.
That was all.

Author's note:

Let me know what you think!
This was eight-sided shape in reverse!
Idk if I did it, but im trying my hardest! Thank you for clicking and reading all the way down here!
More chapters coming next week as always!