AN: Still don't own them… I had never really intended on writing a second chapter to this story but inspiration just struck me one day. An introspective Kaiba who questions the hold Isis has over him. So, once again, I dedicate this fic to the perfect pairing of Seto and Isis. I hope you enjoy.
"When did you become such a sentimental fool?" Seto mused, questioning his reflection in the golden pen. "When did your life become dictated by one woman?" His reflection offered him no explanation, only the bitter reality of his current existence. He could still see the trail the tear had left down the side of his face. "What have you done to me, Isis?"
She was not there to answer him, and his reflection glared back at him, challenging his nerve to ask such a question. He should give power to neither man nor women. Especially not to women; women whose power most men were so weak against. If he were to give her power, she might get other ideas. She might receive the wrong impression and want other, more personal attention from him that he was not quite so willing to give to her. No, giving a woman power was never an intelligent idea.
Yet somehow she did have power over him, though he most certainly did not give it to her freely. She had the power to drag him into the pits of despair and he knew not why. Dejectedly, he placed his pen back down on his desk, sighing as the darkening gloom settled in around him. Gradually, he heard the fall of the rain behind him; however, he was focused on only one thing. "Isis," he breathed to the shadows gathered around him.
He was beginning to understand the power of a name. Surely, Isis knew of this power. Sometimes he wondered exactly how much she knew. Most of the time he found her ideas foolish and old-fashioned, but there were moments where he was amazed at her wealth of knowledge. He would never reveal his secret to her; there was no reason for him to give her any more power than she already had over him. She probably already knew anyway. When she looked at him, it seemed as if she knew everything about his life.
Did she know what calling him Seto would do to him? If she did, he doubted she would have come to see him earlier. In fact, would she have done it at all? He loosed a frustrated groan, burying his forehead in his hands. All this thinking was giving him a headache, and he was not drawing any closer to a tangible conclusion.
She said they were worried about him. Were they really worried? What mattered to him was if she cared. Could she ever honestly have any emotions for him or did she disregard him as quickly as she seemed to everyone else? Was she truly sorry for what had done to him or was it just another one of her cheap tricks? He did not know what to believe any more and he wondered how she could have so much faith in him when he harbored so little trust towards her.
"Seto Kaiba, President of Kaiba Corporation and the former world champion of Duel Monsters," he muttered, running the fingers of his left hand through his hair. "What does it all mean when I cannot understand the mechanics of one woman?" He realized now he would never understand her, even if he devoted the rest of his life to the process. She was an enigma, one that he doubted anyone would ever understand. He could never comprehend her blind faith, her unwavering loyalty and devotion, or her uncanny ability to stare into the depths of his soul. Why had she come to see him today? Why did she continue to disturb him with her intense gaze and knowing mouth? "How can one woman bother me so?"
Deep in his heart, he knew the answer. She truly was the closest thing to a friend he had ever had. Yuugi, despite all his talks of friendship, still labeled him. Isis, on the other hand, spoke to him bluntly, it at times in riddles, and she addressed him by his first name. She did not see him as the president of a company, or a world-champion duelist; she saw him as an individual. Whether or not she liked what she saw was beyond the range of his comprehension. He had a feeling she knew more about his soul than he cared to. No one had ever had such a powerful hold over him before. No one had ever captivated him in the way she had…
He opened his desk drawer, staring at the deck that was sitting so invitingly on top, whispering his name. "What happened?" He had gone from a top-notch duelist to a cowardly fool. He had almost lost to Jounouchi. Jounouchi, of all the weak duelists to almost fall before. Isis had been one thing; he was willing to admit she was an accomplished duelist, but to do so poorly afterwards was shameful. She had twisted his heart with her words. 'The future has changed. You have given me hope.' Some said the pen was infinitely more powerful than the sword. Her words, though spoken and not written, had cut through his outer defenses like glass. How did she have this control over him? Why did her words cause him to lose his touch?
He slammed the drawer shut, gritting his teeth. Any remorse he had felt before had vanished. The only thought in his mind was the sweet taste of revenge. He would make her suffer slowly and pay dearly for what she had done to him. In his mind, he saw her standing before him, and she turned to him, ebony hair framing her face, and a stray tear falling form her sea-sapphire eyes.
He supposed she had not meant to hurt him intentionally. Besides, the look in those gorgeous eyes completely stole his breath. Maybe…maybe she had only wanted to help him. She had shown nothing but caring to others. Could she possibly see past the cold exterior and show the dame, if not deeper, depth of emotion for him? He might even be able to return those feelings one day. He needed to go think about his dueling and other major factors in his life. When he didn't have his dueling skills, he seemed to gradually lose touch with reality. For Mokuba's sake, he had to prevent his sanity from slipping away from him.
He pressed the button on his intercom. "Sheila, I'm going home early today. Make sure you take all my messages down carefully." He could never be too sure. He sensed someone had been keeping messages from him and his dignity demanded why.
"Certainly, sir, but," – for a moment, he feared she was not going to obey him – "my name is Kelly."
He shrugged. Honestly, he could be expected to remember everyone's name. It was difficult enough trying to remember the important ones. Sometimes a few things had to drift from memory. Not that those things really mattered anyway. The only things that mattered were his own personal interests and his secretary did not fall into that category. As long as she worked when she was supposed to he was satisfied.
No one asked him where he was going; no one stopped him or even looked at him twice. They did not dare to question him; he could never do anything wrong.
He kept his eyes downcast as he walked, still pondering what had gone wrong in his life. The enormity of the situation was weighing down heavily on his shoulders. He just wished he knew how to fix the problem. Was Isis really the source of his problem? He stepped outside into the numbing rain, blinking away the drops that matted his eyelashes, not bothering to look up. What was the point of it all anymore?
A loud clap of thunder and a flash of lightning made him look up involuntarily. He gasped sharply, his left foot retreating from the dark figure in front of him. Who would dare to treat him in such a manner? The figure raised her hand, and placed it by the side of her hood. "I'm sorry, Seto. I didn't mean to startle you."
There was something hauntingly familiar about that voice. He gradually lowered his guard, brushing his damp bangs off his forehead. "Who are you?" he asked, a suspicion growing in the back of his mind. She pushed her hood back, revealing her dark, damp hair, clinging to her face and her pitying eyes. "Isis," he accused, relaxing slowly. "Have you been out here the entire time?"
She would have been cold and soaked to the bone by this point which might make her angry and irritable. "No." She shook her head with a small smile. "I was on my way home when I decided I wanted to make sure you were okay." Was she smothering him or did she actually care? He was certain he did not need her mothering him. He clenched his fist at his side, shaking slightly. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Who gave her permission to take control of his life? "Seto?"
He could see the concern in her eyes, and the genuine caring in the downturn of her mouth. "Isis, there's something wrong with me," he finally admitted, even to himself. He knew admitting his weakness would give her more power over him, but at the moment it seemed obsolete.
She extended her hand to him, smiling gently. "I know," she whispered encouragingly. Perhaps she could help him after all. His fingertips brushed lightly against hers before wrapping tightly around her hand.
~ Bwahahahaha!!!! How dare I leave it there? Anyway, remember to submit a review and I may just get inspiration to write another chapter. After all, it was those other reviews that inspired me to write this one.