1 Love that Stands Eternal
By Sagitta
A/N: Romance/Adventure. Yugioh isn't mine, though I wish it were! Oh, dammit! I can't believe I didn't think of the idea sooner! *hits herself on head* But anyway, I'll just remind people that this is yaoi, and does have death in it (though a happy ending).
It was a sunny day in Japan, during that lovely summer season when children were out of school and elsewhere; when all was only peace and relaxation; when aspiring duelists took each other on, and some walked away victorious, while others hanged their heads in defeat. But somewhere, in a certain hospital on the outskirts of the city, not everything was so glorious this day . . . .
A tall young man with dark chestnut hair, and cerulean eyes focused only on the pale creature lying silent on the plain white bed, sat with a hand clutched around the boy's smaller one. His face was haggard, and weary, while the boy was absolutely exquisite and unmoving, like an ice statue. Doctors and nurses came in occasionally, and steered away as soon as possible, repelled by the man's strange, tense blue eyes.
Seto took in a deep breath, running a tongue along his lips – how long had it been since he had tasted water? But no matter; a parched voice was nothing compared to the battle his Yami must fighting; the battle between life and death. While Yugi lay here, silent, frozen in time, his Yami should be out of his soul room. But Kaiba was no master of the Millennium Items.
What if Yugi should die?
What if Yami stayed locked in the soul room forever?
He groaned softly and laid his head against the boy's cool forehead. "Oh god, please don't leave me, Yami . . . ." his voice protested against the whispered words, begging for water – but more anxious still was his voice pleading for Yami to come out. "I'm sorry I never told you before . . . . please, why won't you come out . . . .?" His hand gently stroked the Millennium Puzzle. He knew how deeply attached Yami was for his light; but now, instead of petty envy, there was only anguish.
A knock on the door; some wonderful miracle-worker (most likely a nurse) handed him a cup of water and scurried away.
Seto drank. "Did you have the same memory too? Did it come back to you like it did to me? Hang in there Yugi – I'll go back to save you again, like I did in Egypt – and Yami too . . . . . ."
Finally his gaze is wrenched from the boy to the window, where the sun is rising in a blaze of red.
Kaiba closes his eyes.
(Kaiba's Dream)
A lone boy stood on the horizon, on the knoll of a hill. His brows were knotted forward in anxiety as he looked around. "I don't see them!"
There was a small chuckle from behind him, and then a woman appeared, her skirts dragging against the sweet grass. "Seth, they won't be here until noon! Now why don't you go and play with Malik, hm?"
Seth scowled and folded his arms. "Malik's dumb. He doesn't play the Shadow Games right, and he's not much of a worthy opponent."
Nekana sighed and shook her head. "Don't be so rude to your friend! Now go back, and I'll summon you when they get here."
Seth muttered something under his breath, but ran, sprinting, down the hill. The cool morning breeze rippled against his bare arms; he couldn't bear to wait the long, dragging hours until the Asanis came, but there was one place that might alleviate that eagerness. Seth bolted past the stables and the dueling arenas to the gardens, melting into the trees and the shade until he came at last to the spring.
He leaned himself against a Cyprus tree and watched his reflection in the clear water. Mentally, he scowled again. He had never been a handsome, or even pretty, boy, and now that seemed obvious to him. Only his deep blue eyes were noteworthy; if he wasn't the Pharaoh's son and heir, then nobody would praise or flatter him as they did. Only Joey, being as blunt as he was, brought him to understand that Seth would never be good-looking, as much as the others said.
And now, when Ouji came . . . .
Would he impress him? Seth was a legendary dueler, even at his young age of six. So was Ouji – but even more remarkable than his skill was his beauty. He had heard it said over and over again, how the women tried to make their young daughters prettier, or how even some of the boys were excited and fussing with their looks. Seth should of course be excited, Ouji of the Asanis would be his opponent, and the Asanis were such loyal servants to the Pharaoh, he must make a good impression. The reason they were coming was because the patriarch had died, and his son was renewing his allegiance.
He had even heard how Ouji would be staying at court to learn the Shadow Games better, and be more thoroughly acquainted with everyone.
Seth stared at his reflection once more, and finally decided it tiring – thinking and pondering, that is. He glanced at the lulling waves and was slowly lured to sleep........
A gentle hand shook him from his slumber, and Seth woke up bleary- eyed to a pair of crystal blue eyes in a smiling face. Nekana gently straightened his rumpled hair and stood back to survey him for a moment as he stumbled out of the groove he had been sleeping on. Seth yawned and stretched sleepily. "Mother, what time is it?"
"We've got some time before the Asanis arrive, but I suggest you hurry and get yourself washed and properly dressed."
Seth scowled and hunched his shoulders. Bathing – bleh! "All right, fine," he muttered resentfully and slouched off to his quarters.
A few lads were gathered there in the bathing room, bustling around as they checked the temperature of the water, laid out fragrant scents and herbs, and preparing complete sets of crisp new clothes. Seth found himself dragged along by his favorite slave, Bakura (who had been learning to become a tomb robber and thus became imprisoned, but freed since he was only a little kid), and carefully undressed and plunked into the warm water. Herbs and flowers floated around on the surface, causing the pharaoh- to-be to wrinkle his nose in boyish distaste. "Scents are for girls," he protested.
Bakura giggled and ducked his head. "But you have to smell nice, that's what your mother said, and besides, I heard Ouji had a whole collection of perfumes –"
"That doesn't mean I have to smell like some lily," Seth muttered. "Ouji's half a girl anyway."
Bakura scolded him gently as he scrubbed Seth's back. "That's hermaphrodites you're thinking of."
"When did you become so smart?" Seth retorted.
Bakura smiled beatifically. "By actually paying attention when you have your lessons."
Seth snorted. "That'd give Master Genzd a good laugh – I swear, 'Kura, when I grow up, I'm appointing you as an advisor!"
"On what? Perfumes?"
Seth suddenly grabbed him from behind and dunked the boy right into the pool. "You know what I mean!" He purposefully splashed water on the shocked boy.
Shrieking and laughing, the slave splashed water back at him, looking like a water-drenched rat. A water-drenched rat with silver hair. A particularly gorgeous water-drenched rat with silver hair. Seth suddenly found himself in an uncomfortable situation, with a soaking Bakura in flimsy cloth that was see-through in water, and he wearing nothing. Most uncomfortable.
If he were not a six-year-old.
With enthusiasm and zest, he flung himself into the beginnings of a water war.
A half-glass (A/N: half of an hour glass) later, Seth found himself stiffly dressed in a blue uniform on the steps of the temple, awaiting the arrival of several chariots. He shielded his eyes against the hot Egyptian sun and bit his lip. Damn, but he was thirsty. A swift glance told him that his father had a glass of water next to him, and several slaves fanning him. Seth sighed. Heirs to the throne never got anything.
Nekana gently patted his back. "Stand up straighter," she whispered. Seth forced his aching back to stand up just a fraction straighter. It wasn't like they were here yet, and yet there was a noticeable tension in the air, as if the calm breezes were suddenly going to break into gales.
There was a soft pattering against the stones in the path . . . .
Clickety-clickety-clickety........
A camel appeared on the path, its rider a tall sunburnt slave who dismounted and bowed. Seth fought to keep in his apprehension and excitement as his gaze swept over the carriages behind him.
"Lord Pharaoh and Kin to the Gods, Ruler of All High Egypt, I present to you Manseka Asani, Friend to the Pharoah." The man disappeared and melted into the background as he opened the door to the largest chariot.
A short, plump man in heavy clothes ill-adapted to the climate swaddled out, breathing heavily. "Ugh, these carriages are too high........."
A slender hand inside the carriage gently supported his arm. "Take care, father. Your health is precarious in such weather," a soft voice whispered. Seth was suddenly ambushed with the smell of various perfumes, most of them exotic flowers and herbs, as a slim boy came out as gracefully as a water nymph, trailing after his father.
Seth froze, shocked for a split second, before feeling blood rush to his cheeks in warmth. No doubt the boy was the man's son; but he certainly wouldn't have guessed that. There seemed no resemblance in the slight figure and the portly one, the falls of golden locks streaked with red and black and the dark, unruly curls, the easy elegance and the obvious clumsiness.
Manseka hurried to bow to the Pharoah while Ouji stood in the shadow of the carriage, patting the camels. Seth strained to see the boy's face, but his efforts were futile. Later, he thought disappointedly.
"My lord Pharaoh, I am more than grateful and honored for your kind remembrance of my inheritance," he bowed again, awkwardly. Seth watched as his father stood and smiled.
"I am highly pleased to welcome you to our court," the Pharaoh said calmly. His gaze swept to the carriages and to Ouji. "And your son."
"Ah, yes!" Manseka exclaimed, as if the memory of his son had abruptly come to him. "Ouji, come over here, you foolish boy; what are you doing, standing there like that –"
Ouji emerged from the shadows, and Seth was suddenly dazzled with a vision of exquisite loveliness...........the sweet, almost sad smile, the pale unburnt skin, the high, tinted cheekbones........their eyes met for a second, and Seth almost lost himself in amethyst eyes.
".......and Seth would be more than pleased to take him as a consort –"
"What?!" Seth hastily snapped out of his trance, almost stumbling down the steps. His father frowned at him; Manseka gave a small, cunning smile.
"Yes, I think your son would be most pleased with the gift I am presenting to him."
Ouji glanced shyly at him through his bangs, blushing. Even six-year- olds knew what consorts meant.
"Of course, Seth would have to take concubines if he is expected to have a heir," Pharaoh said. "But come in; Aten is most active today." He beckoned them inside, Seth hurrying after his father. Thoughts were running wildly through his head. So that was the main reason of the visit. He supposed that Ouji would be staying at the court for some time, and for some reason, that idea quite appealed to him.
They dined that day on various delicacies, chatting and gossiping about state matters. Seth had a suspicion that Manseka would not be a very capable patriarch; the man was an absolute fool, talking about serious matters with an annoying languidness, and Seth hated the way the man kept on glancing over at his mother with especially keen eyes. If the Pharaoh noticed, he did not comment. Instead, he said, "Seth, show Ouji the gardens and the courtyards. He'll feel more comfortable around the palace."
Ouji hesitated for a moment; he had not spoken anything throughout the dining except for monosyllables. "My lord Pharaoh, may I ask if my friend can go with me?"
"Of course," the man nodded absentmindly.
Ouji and Seth walked down the halls silently, Seth a few steps in front as was the protocol. A few shadowy people greeted them benignly; Seth forced himself to nod-and-smile, even though his thoughts were rampant with the beautiful boy who walked quietly behind him. Compared to Ouji's gentle tread, Seth's footsteps sounded like dropping anvils. He halted before the hall where the carriages were kept. "Your friend doesn't appear to be here." Ah, how more obvious can you get, you numbskull?
Ouji smiled slightly. "Joey doesn't stay in one place long. Do you have a dueling arena?"
"What? Oh, of course," Seth said quickly. "This way." He strode briskly past doors and hallways, and the gardens, stopping as Ouji took the time to admire a few flowers wistfully. "You can pick some, if you like."
Ouji flushed. "I prefer leaving them alive, rather than have them wilt in a painted vase."
"Very well then," Seth muttered. Personally, he couldn't understand the boy's fascination with flowers. Though that might be because he was allergic to pollen. "Do you duel?" The traitorous words formed on his lips heedlessly.
Ouji looked up from a tending a drooping rose. "Well, yes, I suppose so. Not very seriously, though."
"Not very seriously?!" Kaiba exclaimed, then quickly checked himself. "Sorry – it's just that I've heard you were an amazing duelist –"
Ouji's cheeks blushed red. "You give me too much credit."
"Hey, Ouji!" A call from behind them made Kaiba whirl around to see a tall blonde boy racing to them. "Who's your friend?"
Ouji smiled, a genuine smile that made Kaiba suddenly envious of Joey. "This is Kaiba; Kaiba, Joey."
Joey skidded to a stop, panting. "Nice ta meet ya. Heard you're a great duelist!"
Kaiba nodded coldly.
"Joey, wait! I haven't shown you........." the voice faltered. Kaiba found himself staring at Bakura, who was blushing and holding a deck of cards.
"Bakura," Kaiba forced his voice to stay even, "what are you doing with my deck?"
"This isn't your deck," Bakura hanged his head guiltily.
"Whose deck is it then?"
Bakura bit his lip nervously. "My deck."
"WHAT?!" Kaiba almost went berserk. "Bakura, you're not allowed to have a deck!"
"Why?" Ouji had stepped in, and laid a gentle, calming hand against Kaiba's arm. "What's the problem?"
"He's a slave, that's what!" Kaiba snapped. "Bakura, you know slaves aren't allowed cards –"
"Hey, leave the kid alone," Joey draped an arm across the slave's trembling shoulders. "It's our secret; right, 'Kura?"
Bakura nodded dumbly, afraid to meet his master's gaze.
Kaiba bit his lip to refrain from a savage retort. "Fine then. Ouji," he turned to the boy, "would you like a duel?"
________________________________________________________________________
By Sagitta
A/N: Romance/Adventure. Yugioh isn't mine, though I wish it were! Oh, dammit! I can't believe I didn't think of the idea sooner! *hits herself on head* But anyway, I'll just remind people that this is yaoi, and does have death in it (though a happy ending).
It was a sunny day in Japan, during that lovely summer season when children were out of school and elsewhere; when all was only peace and relaxation; when aspiring duelists took each other on, and some walked away victorious, while others hanged their heads in defeat. But somewhere, in a certain hospital on the outskirts of the city, not everything was so glorious this day . . . .
A tall young man with dark chestnut hair, and cerulean eyes focused only on the pale creature lying silent on the plain white bed, sat with a hand clutched around the boy's smaller one. His face was haggard, and weary, while the boy was absolutely exquisite and unmoving, like an ice statue. Doctors and nurses came in occasionally, and steered away as soon as possible, repelled by the man's strange, tense blue eyes.
Seto took in a deep breath, running a tongue along his lips – how long had it been since he had tasted water? But no matter; a parched voice was nothing compared to the battle his Yami must fighting; the battle between life and death. While Yugi lay here, silent, frozen in time, his Yami should be out of his soul room. But Kaiba was no master of the Millennium Items.
What if Yugi should die?
What if Yami stayed locked in the soul room forever?
He groaned softly and laid his head against the boy's cool forehead. "Oh god, please don't leave me, Yami . . . ." his voice protested against the whispered words, begging for water – but more anxious still was his voice pleading for Yami to come out. "I'm sorry I never told you before . . . . please, why won't you come out . . . .?" His hand gently stroked the Millennium Puzzle. He knew how deeply attached Yami was for his light; but now, instead of petty envy, there was only anguish.
A knock on the door; some wonderful miracle-worker (most likely a nurse) handed him a cup of water and scurried away.
Seto drank. "Did you have the same memory too? Did it come back to you like it did to me? Hang in there Yugi – I'll go back to save you again, like I did in Egypt – and Yami too . . . . . ."
Finally his gaze is wrenched from the boy to the window, where the sun is rising in a blaze of red.
Kaiba closes his eyes.
(Kaiba's Dream)
A lone boy stood on the horizon, on the knoll of a hill. His brows were knotted forward in anxiety as he looked around. "I don't see them!"
There was a small chuckle from behind him, and then a woman appeared, her skirts dragging against the sweet grass. "Seth, they won't be here until noon! Now why don't you go and play with Malik, hm?"
Seth scowled and folded his arms. "Malik's dumb. He doesn't play the Shadow Games right, and he's not much of a worthy opponent."
Nekana sighed and shook her head. "Don't be so rude to your friend! Now go back, and I'll summon you when they get here."
Seth muttered something under his breath, but ran, sprinting, down the hill. The cool morning breeze rippled against his bare arms; he couldn't bear to wait the long, dragging hours until the Asanis came, but there was one place that might alleviate that eagerness. Seth bolted past the stables and the dueling arenas to the gardens, melting into the trees and the shade until he came at last to the spring.
He leaned himself against a Cyprus tree and watched his reflection in the clear water. Mentally, he scowled again. He had never been a handsome, or even pretty, boy, and now that seemed obvious to him. Only his deep blue eyes were noteworthy; if he wasn't the Pharaoh's son and heir, then nobody would praise or flatter him as they did. Only Joey, being as blunt as he was, brought him to understand that Seth would never be good-looking, as much as the others said.
And now, when Ouji came . . . .
Would he impress him? Seth was a legendary dueler, even at his young age of six. So was Ouji – but even more remarkable than his skill was his beauty. He had heard it said over and over again, how the women tried to make their young daughters prettier, or how even some of the boys were excited and fussing with their looks. Seth should of course be excited, Ouji of the Asanis would be his opponent, and the Asanis were such loyal servants to the Pharaoh, he must make a good impression. The reason they were coming was because the patriarch had died, and his son was renewing his allegiance.
He had even heard how Ouji would be staying at court to learn the Shadow Games better, and be more thoroughly acquainted with everyone.
Seth stared at his reflection once more, and finally decided it tiring – thinking and pondering, that is. He glanced at the lulling waves and was slowly lured to sleep........
A gentle hand shook him from his slumber, and Seth woke up bleary- eyed to a pair of crystal blue eyes in a smiling face. Nekana gently straightened his rumpled hair and stood back to survey him for a moment as he stumbled out of the groove he had been sleeping on. Seth yawned and stretched sleepily. "Mother, what time is it?"
"We've got some time before the Asanis arrive, but I suggest you hurry and get yourself washed and properly dressed."
Seth scowled and hunched his shoulders. Bathing – bleh! "All right, fine," he muttered resentfully and slouched off to his quarters.
A few lads were gathered there in the bathing room, bustling around as they checked the temperature of the water, laid out fragrant scents and herbs, and preparing complete sets of crisp new clothes. Seth found himself dragged along by his favorite slave, Bakura (who had been learning to become a tomb robber and thus became imprisoned, but freed since he was only a little kid), and carefully undressed and plunked into the warm water. Herbs and flowers floated around on the surface, causing the pharaoh- to-be to wrinkle his nose in boyish distaste. "Scents are for girls," he protested.
Bakura giggled and ducked his head. "But you have to smell nice, that's what your mother said, and besides, I heard Ouji had a whole collection of perfumes –"
"That doesn't mean I have to smell like some lily," Seth muttered. "Ouji's half a girl anyway."
Bakura scolded him gently as he scrubbed Seth's back. "That's hermaphrodites you're thinking of."
"When did you become so smart?" Seth retorted.
Bakura smiled beatifically. "By actually paying attention when you have your lessons."
Seth snorted. "That'd give Master Genzd a good laugh – I swear, 'Kura, when I grow up, I'm appointing you as an advisor!"
"On what? Perfumes?"
Seth suddenly grabbed him from behind and dunked the boy right into the pool. "You know what I mean!" He purposefully splashed water on the shocked boy.
Shrieking and laughing, the slave splashed water back at him, looking like a water-drenched rat. A water-drenched rat with silver hair. A particularly gorgeous water-drenched rat with silver hair. Seth suddenly found himself in an uncomfortable situation, with a soaking Bakura in flimsy cloth that was see-through in water, and he wearing nothing. Most uncomfortable.
If he were not a six-year-old.
With enthusiasm and zest, he flung himself into the beginnings of a water war.
A half-glass (A/N: half of an hour glass) later, Seth found himself stiffly dressed in a blue uniform on the steps of the temple, awaiting the arrival of several chariots. He shielded his eyes against the hot Egyptian sun and bit his lip. Damn, but he was thirsty. A swift glance told him that his father had a glass of water next to him, and several slaves fanning him. Seth sighed. Heirs to the throne never got anything.
Nekana gently patted his back. "Stand up straighter," she whispered. Seth forced his aching back to stand up just a fraction straighter. It wasn't like they were here yet, and yet there was a noticeable tension in the air, as if the calm breezes were suddenly going to break into gales.
There was a soft pattering against the stones in the path . . . .
Clickety-clickety-clickety........
A camel appeared on the path, its rider a tall sunburnt slave who dismounted and bowed. Seth fought to keep in his apprehension and excitement as his gaze swept over the carriages behind him.
"Lord Pharaoh and Kin to the Gods, Ruler of All High Egypt, I present to you Manseka Asani, Friend to the Pharoah." The man disappeared and melted into the background as he opened the door to the largest chariot.
A short, plump man in heavy clothes ill-adapted to the climate swaddled out, breathing heavily. "Ugh, these carriages are too high........."
A slender hand inside the carriage gently supported his arm. "Take care, father. Your health is precarious in such weather," a soft voice whispered. Seth was suddenly ambushed with the smell of various perfumes, most of them exotic flowers and herbs, as a slim boy came out as gracefully as a water nymph, trailing after his father.
Seth froze, shocked for a split second, before feeling blood rush to his cheeks in warmth. No doubt the boy was the man's son; but he certainly wouldn't have guessed that. There seemed no resemblance in the slight figure and the portly one, the falls of golden locks streaked with red and black and the dark, unruly curls, the easy elegance and the obvious clumsiness.
Manseka hurried to bow to the Pharoah while Ouji stood in the shadow of the carriage, patting the camels. Seth strained to see the boy's face, but his efforts were futile. Later, he thought disappointedly.
"My lord Pharaoh, I am more than grateful and honored for your kind remembrance of my inheritance," he bowed again, awkwardly. Seth watched as his father stood and smiled.
"I am highly pleased to welcome you to our court," the Pharaoh said calmly. His gaze swept to the carriages and to Ouji. "And your son."
"Ah, yes!" Manseka exclaimed, as if the memory of his son had abruptly come to him. "Ouji, come over here, you foolish boy; what are you doing, standing there like that –"
Ouji emerged from the shadows, and Seth was suddenly dazzled with a vision of exquisite loveliness...........the sweet, almost sad smile, the pale unburnt skin, the high, tinted cheekbones........their eyes met for a second, and Seth almost lost himself in amethyst eyes.
".......and Seth would be more than pleased to take him as a consort –"
"What?!" Seth hastily snapped out of his trance, almost stumbling down the steps. His father frowned at him; Manseka gave a small, cunning smile.
"Yes, I think your son would be most pleased with the gift I am presenting to him."
Ouji glanced shyly at him through his bangs, blushing. Even six-year- olds knew what consorts meant.
"Of course, Seth would have to take concubines if he is expected to have a heir," Pharaoh said. "But come in; Aten is most active today." He beckoned them inside, Seth hurrying after his father. Thoughts were running wildly through his head. So that was the main reason of the visit. He supposed that Ouji would be staying at the court for some time, and for some reason, that idea quite appealed to him.
They dined that day on various delicacies, chatting and gossiping about state matters. Seth had a suspicion that Manseka would not be a very capable patriarch; the man was an absolute fool, talking about serious matters with an annoying languidness, and Seth hated the way the man kept on glancing over at his mother with especially keen eyes. If the Pharaoh noticed, he did not comment. Instead, he said, "Seth, show Ouji the gardens and the courtyards. He'll feel more comfortable around the palace."
Ouji hesitated for a moment; he had not spoken anything throughout the dining except for monosyllables. "My lord Pharaoh, may I ask if my friend can go with me?"
"Of course," the man nodded absentmindly.
Ouji and Seth walked down the halls silently, Seth a few steps in front as was the protocol. A few shadowy people greeted them benignly; Seth forced himself to nod-and-smile, even though his thoughts were rampant with the beautiful boy who walked quietly behind him. Compared to Ouji's gentle tread, Seth's footsteps sounded like dropping anvils. He halted before the hall where the carriages were kept. "Your friend doesn't appear to be here." Ah, how more obvious can you get, you numbskull?
Ouji smiled slightly. "Joey doesn't stay in one place long. Do you have a dueling arena?"
"What? Oh, of course," Seth said quickly. "This way." He strode briskly past doors and hallways, and the gardens, stopping as Ouji took the time to admire a few flowers wistfully. "You can pick some, if you like."
Ouji flushed. "I prefer leaving them alive, rather than have them wilt in a painted vase."
"Very well then," Seth muttered. Personally, he couldn't understand the boy's fascination with flowers. Though that might be because he was allergic to pollen. "Do you duel?" The traitorous words formed on his lips heedlessly.
Ouji looked up from a tending a drooping rose. "Well, yes, I suppose so. Not very seriously, though."
"Not very seriously?!" Kaiba exclaimed, then quickly checked himself. "Sorry – it's just that I've heard you were an amazing duelist –"
Ouji's cheeks blushed red. "You give me too much credit."
"Hey, Ouji!" A call from behind them made Kaiba whirl around to see a tall blonde boy racing to them. "Who's your friend?"
Ouji smiled, a genuine smile that made Kaiba suddenly envious of Joey. "This is Kaiba; Kaiba, Joey."
Joey skidded to a stop, panting. "Nice ta meet ya. Heard you're a great duelist!"
Kaiba nodded coldly.
"Joey, wait! I haven't shown you........." the voice faltered. Kaiba found himself staring at Bakura, who was blushing and holding a deck of cards.
"Bakura," Kaiba forced his voice to stay even, "what are you doing with my deck?"
"This isn't your deck," Bakura hanged his head guiltily.
"Whose deck is it then?"
Bakura bit his lip nervously. "My deck."
"WHAT?!" Kaiba almost went berserk. "Bakura, you're not allowed to have a deck!"
"Why?" Ouji had stepped in, and laid a gentle, calming hand against Kaiba's arm. "What's the problem?"
"He's a slave, that's what!" Kaiba snapped. "Bakura, you know slaves aren't allowed cards –"
"Hey, leave the kid alone," Joey draped an arm across the slave's trembling shoulders. "It's our secret; right, 'Kura?"
Bakura nodded dumbly, afraid to meet his master's gaze.
Kaiba bit his lip to refrain from a savage retort. "Fine then. Ouji," he turned to the boy, "would you like a duel?"
________________________________________________________________________