PLEASE READ AND REVIEW. It's incredibly encouraging to hear how you feel about the story and the characters, where it's going and what can be improved, and to know that people are still following the story.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was actually one of the more difficult chapters to write, although I hope it doesn't show. I've always been intrigued by Kaiba's connection with martial arts – not at his proficiency, but at the techniques he uses. Kaiba often uses judo (or possibly jujitsu) throws. What's interesting is that these techniques can not be learned in isolation. He must have spent hundreds of hours practicing with a partner to reach this level of skill. He would have had to be a member of a dojo and accept the instruction and authority of a sensei.

Given his total lack of tolerance for being around people, I have always found this interesting. I thought about how and where he would have learned all of this, which originally took me into his early life before Gozaburo, especially as I thought it was important that the dojo not be a refuge, and the sensei not be a protector – since I think those are precisely the things lacking in his life.

Anyway, once Yami got involved, this turned into a large unwieldy chapter, and then two chapters (I promise to post the second half, which deals with Seto's history soon). This chapter ended up being sort of Yami inner dialog and romantic musings on Seto – with all kinds of other stuff thrown in. There is a lengthy Martial Arts Note. As usual, additional AUTHOR'S NOTES and RESPONSES TO REVIEWS are at the end, making this kind of long.

Please read the Martial Arts Notes below, they are important to the story.

MARTIAL ARTS NOTES: To anyone familiar with martial arts – please don't get mad! Any techniques used were described to the best of my ability (I have played judo and studied karate, although my knowledge of jujitsu is limited). However, I understand that it is impossible that any one person would be an expert at all the different martial arts I describe in this and in the next chapter. But when I thought about it, each martial art seemed to either work well as a metaphor for some aspect of Kaiba's personality, or be particularly appropriate for a stage in his life. So I decided to throw take a lot of literary license, and throw them all into my story. Also, it is incredibly unlikely that someone with poor attendance would be promoted in rank – although I explain that in the next chapter. Anyway, please suspend disbelief – after all this is a story about a guy who lived in a puzzle.

MARTIAL ARTS VOCABULARY

TORE – UKE: Yeah, that last word should look familiar. I nearly fell off my chair laughing when I found out it had a sexual connotation! In judo, the Uke is the person being thrown. The person initiating the move is, thankfully for my sanity, not the Seme, but the Tore (I'm not sure how it's spelled – it's pronounced tour-ray.) Interestingly, especially when referring to kata or demonstrations, although the Uke is the person getting thrown (or choked, or held, etc.) the role does not carry the same connotation of submissiveness. Both the Tore and Uke are considered equal partners in performing the throw. It's also recognized that it takes skill and mental discipline to be able to relax into the throw, and yet keep enough control to showcase it effectively through the fall. It is considered a compliment to be asked to be an Uke for a promotional exam, and is a task usually assumed by upper ranks.

BO or BO STAFF: This is basically a long stick, about the height of the person using it. The type of Bo I picture Kaiba using is a modern one – it would be six feet long, about the diameter of a broom stick, with tapered ends. Using mostly two-handed (with some one-handed and release moves) the person makes sweeping, slashing and thrusting moves very quickly. I needed a martial art that Kaiba could practice on his own. I planed to use the more common Karate, but the Bo (which is kind of a subset of Karate), has a combination of grace and deadly accuracy that seemed perfect for Kaiba.

KATA: A series of choreographed moves designed to show different techniques.

DOJO: Martial Arts school

GI: Uniform

I guess that's it. At last, on to the story!

CHAPTER 16: YAMIS LOVE A GUY IN A BLACK BELT

YAMI'S NARRATIVE

The Wicked Worm Beast slithered forward, tentacles reaching out to strangle. A blinding light reflected off the Crystal Dragon's slashing talons as Hyozanryu found its prey. The Rabid Horseman's axe and hooves were gleaming red. The air crackled with the Witty Phantom's insane laughter, but nothing could drown out the agonized screams as each devastating attack struck home. Waiting, were uncountable demons, all eager to rend flesh from bone. Caught between terror and exhilaration, the words rang in my ears, "Is this what death feels like?"

I sat up with a gasp. It was still dark outside. Next to me, Kaiba's whimpers were dying away as he eased into a deep, dreamless sleep. Soon, the sheets tangled around his legs would be the only remaining evidence of the nightmare I had given him. He had not woken; had not even broken a sweat. In the end, the vision of Hell I had forced on him in our first Shadow Game, was only one nightmare among many.

For I entered his remaining nightmares freely now. I wasn't sure his permission had extended past that one night, but I stayed to bear witness, even though I couldn't protect him, had never been able to protect him, even from his dreams. I felt a burning need to see the forces that had shaped the man before me.

In this, Mokuba was an uncertain ally. He regarded me now with a mixture of wariness and speculation that disturbed me – I had expected his trust. Instead, I could almost see the wheels turning in his head when he looked at me.

Kaiba was still wrapped up in his work, his new dueling system which he called a duel cuff, whatever that was. The only break he took, except when I could lure him out of the house, was to practice with his bo, usually when he should have been eating or sleeping.

Mokuba took me to see him in yet another empty room of the mansion, when I asked where he disappeared to every night. He was barely aware of our presence, his concentration was so intense. I had seen Kaiba fight before, but I was startled by his blinding speed, and the feline grace with which he moved; the thin staff an extension of his hands, even as it connected them. Yet despite the ferocity of his lightning maneuvers, there was an unfamiliar sense of calmness about him. His face was peaceful, his body relaxed, as he went through the moves of his kata over and over, as if he could find tranquility only in exhaustion. Sometimes Mokuba and I would watch for a while, until the younger boy fell asleep on the couch that was the room's only furniture, unless you counted the neatly arranged weapons and mirrored walls. I began to wonder if there were couches in every room of the house for Mokuba to fall asleep on.

I thought of the many fighting styles I had seen him display, over the years. "Where did he learn all of this," I murmured -- I thought to myself -- as Mokuba rested his sleepy head on my leg.

I should have had more respect for the boy's sharp hearing and even sharper mind – the next thing I knew, we were accompanying Kaiba on one of his rare visits to his dojo to watch him train. I wasn't sure how Mokuba had talked Kaiba into letting us come, or why Mokuba had wanted to invite me in the first place. But I was sure I would find out. With Mokuba, later was usually better than sooner.

Not that I minded going. I wanted to see a place that could occasionally entice Kaiba away from his computer, his duel disk designs, and his business. Remembering his disastrous attempt at high school, I was curious to see the class that could contain him.

The jujitsu class was the closest I had ever seen Kaiba come to blending in with the crowd. In that sea of white gis, he was distinguishable only by his height, the intensity of his crystalline blue eyes, and the black belt that rested on his slim hips. I raised one eyebrow in surprise, but I should have expected both his accomplishment and the secrecy with which he chose to shroud it. Mokuba saw my expression and grinned ruefully. "I know – he's weird. He got it during that last year with our adoptive father. I think he was afraid to bring it in the house. He acts almost like he's ashamed of having a Black Belt. I don't think he'd wear it at all, but he doesn't want to be disrespectful to sensei."

I took a closer look at the man teaching the class. Respect for others and Kaiba were two things that rarely came together. Sensei Fukuzatso was middle-aged, younger than Sugoroku; a little taller and far thinner. His air of barely leashed power and distant manner reminded me of Kaiba himself. Although it was hard to tell, I thought there was not just respect, but possibly some affection between them as he used Kaiba to demonstrate the moves for the class – clearly a position of honor – as he threw and choked the boy into submission.

Kaiba easily duplicated his teacher's fluid grace as he practiced the throws and chokes. Although the moves were routine, I could watch him for hours. I longed to brush the damp hair from his forehead, lick the sweat from his chest, and pull him to the mat by his black belt. I considered the possibilities of that giant padded floor and smiled. Then I took a closer look at Kaiba, and adjusted my fantasies.

Kaiba was so rarely thrown off balance, that I had been amused and a little touched to see how dazed he was by gentleness, how its very unexpectedness disarmed him. I would kiss him tenderly, fondle him with feather light touches, as if asking for his permission, rather than his surrender. I was always moved by the fearlessness of his response, from one so afraid of revealing his emotions; of the complete baring of his desire, of the intensity of his passion. His lips would open for mine, his tall frame moving to fit beneath me, to take me in; as if he couldn't wait to be possessed, as if he was offering not just his body, but his soul. Yet his fervency combined with a shyness that would have seemed out of character, had it not resembled the wariness of a woodland creature who had learned to distrust the world of men.

But now that the seawall holding back his emotions had been breached, too many were fighting for release for any one mood, especially such a softened one, to hold permanent sway. Having lived his nightmares, I was amazed that any pliancy still existed, much less a longing to succumb. And the defiant belligerence that had ensured his survival -- that now formed the bedrock of his character -- could not long tolerate any suggestion of submission, even to affection or desire.

I admit, I enjoyed seeing my rival, the unflappable Seto Kaiba melt at my lightest touch, unable to contain either his emotions or his moans. But power has as many facets as Kaiba himself. And I also felt a thrill of pride and accomplishment, seeing my Blue Eyes able to finally unchain the dragon that dwelt within his heart; to watch his ascendance.

For if the fragility that he hid so well had drawn me to him, even when we were enemies; it was not the only lure. I found Kaiba's unyielding spirit, his unquellable ferocity, equally enthralling. They were on display now, as I watched him train. For years, his explosive temper had been his only relief from the emotions that rode him as hard as his desire for victory. I counted it as one of my most precious and pleasurable triumphs that he finally felt safe enough to reveal the full force of his fiery nature in the only other way open to him – with his body.

I knew which Kaiba I would face tonight. The one finally able to relax the iron grip he kept on his passions; losing control of himself and his detachment even as he took control of my movements as easily and effortlessly as he did with the boy now in front of him. At these times, he was not a gentle lover. At these times, it was not gentleness I wanted, but an elemental heat.

I forced myself to concentrate on the class. Kaiba and his partner were working through the exercise, flowing easily between the tore and uke roles; their movements light and graceful. They seemed to be taking part in some lethal dance, the only accompaniment the thuds of their bodies hitting the floor in turn.

"He's good," I said to Mokuba. "It must have taken years of practice. I hadn't realized how important this must be to him."

I could see Mokuba choosing his words with care, weighing them. "Nisama takes things very seriously. He's not the King of Games."

Was that meant for me? I wondered, and flushed with anger as I realized what he was trying to say. He met my crimson glare head on, worry evident in those large lavender-gray eyes, so like Yugi's. As quickly as it had flared, my fury left, and I realized how keenly I was coming to love both Kaiba brothers.

"It's just a title." I said gently. "You know I don't take things lightly either, and I can recognize the difference between a person and a game." I added sadly, "And I don't think your brother will ever be less of a challenge."

He looked first at the floor, and then into my eyes, like a child who trusts that his unspoken apology will be accepted.

"When it comes to his business or his deck, my brother's got all the right moves. It's just that when it comes to his life…"

His voice trailed off. He swallowed and then blurted out, "You've seen his nightmares. You've seen the kind of choices he makes. It's hard to believe he stumbled into a good one for once."

He smiled up at me, his buoyancy restored, for the moment. But I knew that in a few days, we would be repeating a variation of this conversation. Reassurance never lasted long with either Kaiba.

But I was surprised. For once, Mokuba had underestimated his brother. Kaiba had made his disastrous choices out of desperation, not ignorance. They must have seemed the only options open to him if he was to keep faith with Mokuba and himself. Even as I grieved over the price, I was proud of his unflinching resolve in paying it – as if no cost was too high, compared to the value he put on his own given word – or his brother's life.

Alone now, without, as Kaiba liked to put it, 'a damn puzzle to hide out in', I was learning to total the bill for my own choices: the loss of my memories, and of my shared existence with Yugi. The tab for my choices was no where near as dear as the price Kaiba had been called upon to pay, but I was learning from him to accept the bill stoically, as an ordinary expense of doing business with life.

As I stood there, reflecting, the class had finished their drills, and paired for sparring.

"With his height he'd be great if he stuck to kicking. But he's always liked throwing and mat work better, even though he's at more of a disadvantage there." Mokuba said critically. (I almost groaned thinking of Kaiba's long legs.)

Actually Mokuba was only half right, I thought as I watched him spar. His opponent took a step forward. Faster than sight, Kaiba stepped back into his move, his long legs bent low to the ground, swinging his hips below his far shorter opponent. As he pulled the boy forward on his hip, his leg swept backward, catching the other teen, flipping him high in the air. It was beautiful. Kaiba followed him to the ground. One of his arms snaked around his opponent's neck, his hand gripped the top of his own pants above the knee, pinning the other boy to the mat beneath him. His head was bent down, curled into his arm, the long hair shielding his face from my view. His partner bucked and writhed, trying unavailingly to shake him off, finally giving up and tapping his arm.

As Kaiba stood, I could see his face. It was flushed with exertion and pleasure, gleaming with sweat. His gi top had opened and his chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. He looked like he had just finished making love. I realized why wrestling was his favorite form of foreplay, why he needed the pretense of aggression to relax, to let go of his inhibitions. For an instant I was jealous of his class, of his sparring partners. Then I wondered in sorrow, if these mock fights were the closest he had come to being touched with affection for all those years. My feelings changed and I felt grateful to this place, to these people, for keeping some ability to respond alive within him.

After class, Kaiba stayed behind, showing the sensei the kata he had worked on with his bo. I had thought it perfect, but the sensei made minute corrections, slightly repositioning his hands or the turn of his hips. The he brought out his own bo, and they started sparring lightly. I was amazed, not just at the control they showed – it was clear they were being careful not to hurt each other – but at the trust implied, when one false move could take out an eye or break a knee. Kaiba stayed to help the older man clean and lock up the dojo. As I watched him sweep up, I was reminded that he had not always been a multi-billionaire CEO.

His intense involvement in mastering his craft; his pure pleasure in the movements of the art itself, had shone from the center of his very being -- but he had not spoken a word to either the sensei or his partners -- beyond respectful greetings at the start of each match, and as he knelt and bowed at the beginning and end of class.

I wondered again why Mokuba had brought me. It couldn't be just to show me that Kaiba could be more than an arrogant jerk – I knew that already. And he could have questioned me just as easily at home. He pointed to the sensei. "He's known us since Seto was a kid, even younger than me." He said casually. "Clever boy" I thought, "and they call me the King of Games." For he had waited to be reassured of my feelings for his brother, before speaking.

Mokuba didn't add anything more. He didn't need to. He had caught my attention, and he knew it – as surely as he knew where I'd be the following night.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: When I saw the illustration in Shonnen Jump of the nightmare Yami gave Kaiba after beating him in their first Shadow Game, I couldn't resist having Yami witness it. Except for trying to find a tentacled monster to strangle Kaiba, I disregarded the illustration because I wanted Kaiba to be killed by his own demons.

Animebay-b asked me earlier who the uke was. As you can see, I'm starting to answer that. It's funny – I love 'Yami saving Seto' stories and 'Uke Seto' stories, so I started out to write one combining the two. But I don't think that's what I ended up with, although elements remain. I don't see this as a story of a strong person helping a weaker one, but of two strong people coming together. Because I think, despite all his flaws, Kaiba is an incredibly strong person. There's a wonderful scene in the subtitled Noa's Arc where Yugi is in his soul room. He's dueling with a combination of his and Kaiba's cards, he's about to lose to Noa, and even his friends' (in sort of spirit form) encouragement isn't working. Kaiba shows up as simply says, 'as long as my heart is in those cards, that deck will never stop fighting.' I wanted to capture that sense of strength in both characters. And I think that is true in all aspects of their relationship.

Trusting someone, being cared for, letting someone in (literally as well as figuratively) are all the things Seto has forbidden himself – so I think they would have a tremendous erotic charge for him. But given his history, and aggressive personality, I don't think it's a role he could deal with all the time, or that he could accept doing anything that felt submissive to him. I think what would be important to him was to feel that he was the one choosing – and then what he did would depend on his mood or circumstances – or whether he happened to be fighting his inner demons or the world at that particular moment. I don't think Yami would want Kaiba to be anything other than what he is – except, perhaps happier. Yami is after all, a person that both recognizes and celebrates strength in others. The next chapter refers to Seto's early life. After that I look at the different situations that might bring out different sides of both Yami and Kaiba.

RESPONSES TO REVIEWS: Thank You – I couldn't believe how many lengthy, thoughtful responses I got to the last chapter! I have grouped responses, to a certain extent by category.

Samurai-ashes – manga: I wish all the episodes had been translated. However, there are two really good web sites where you can find some 'scanlations' One is Jenniyah's and the other is Janime's web sites. There is a link to Jenniyah's site in Blue September's author profile. It's got lots of interesting Kaib speculation too. You can get a link to Janime from there. I don't know the addresses because they are bookmarked on my computer.

I really love the following episodes on Jenniyah: 225-231: This is Kaiba's duel with Isis. If you've only seen the dub, this is a treat. Briefly, Isis has used her necklace to see the future, where she beats Kaiba, but loses all chance to rescue Malik. Although this is a hopeless future, she is determined to follow it, believing she must submit to destiny. Of course, he opponent would be Kaiba – who doesn't submit to anything. It's got some of Kaiba's best lines, and he gets to be, not just the victor but the hero.

Janime: My favorite is 263-264, which has a lot of dialog, and internal thoughts after Kaiba loses to Yami Yugi. For sheer creepiness, I recommend the end of Death-T, also at this site.

Blue September – Yami: I agree, I think Yami has a lot of doubts, and definitely needs and relies on the support of his friends, especially Yugi. One thing I love is the way the powerful, enigmatic spirit leans on the shy, easily bullied teenager for moral courage and support – and sees the inner strength in him that no one notices. A lot of what goes on with Yami is unexpressed – another similarity with everyone's favorite CEO. In Yami, I'm trying to show a character who is wise and powerful, but doesn't have all the answers, and is trying to deal with the profound changes being in his own body would have, especially as I think he might consider it a mixed blessing. I think Kaiba could help him make this adjustment. After reading your review, I went through this, and future chapters to see if that sense of Yami and his relationship with Kaiba came through.

Chibi Angelic Slayer, Kagemihari, lil angel, Spirit Star, Tuulikki – Mokuba: If there's a Mokuba Fan Club – put me down for membership. Mokuba is still a kid, so there's a lot he doesn't quite understand – yet he's so wise, in so many ways, especially when it comes to his brother. When he's talking to Kaiba after his loss to Yugi at Alcatraz Tower, he's telling his brother how he didn't like Yugi at first, but how they fought for him 'just like friends'. Maybe it's just me, but it's almost like he couldn't quite believe that they weren't 'like' friends -- they WERE his friends. There's a real sadness to Mokuba that tears at me, because he's such a loving little guy.

Crimson Winter, Kagemihari, lil angel – Seto's anger: I just got the subtitled dvd of the beginning of Yugi's duel with Mailk. There's a wonderful bit with Kaiba, where he's saying that this duel will show that miracles can't happen and that friendship is an illusion – and you can see how desperately he wants to be proved wrong. I tried to capture that sense of Kaiba in his fights with Yami, and also that Yami understood, and even sympathized with what he's going through – although he still got pretty annoyed.

Kagemihari, Tuulikki – Games: I figured they couldn't be grim all the time, so I tried to think of what they would do for fun, and decided it had to be both competitive and reckless, because that's who they are. They also clearly like competing with each other. I do more of this in some late chapters. I hadn't read Fire Tears' Of Cars, Driving Lessons and Road Rage. I'm kind of glad I hadn't since it's somewhat similar, and much wilder and funnier than what I was envisioning. It was really good – thank you for the recommendation.

Lightning Sage, Seto-Kaiba-fan – In character: Thank you. I find that the reviews have helped a lot. Things people have written have made me think more about Yami's struggle to accept the loss of his memories, Mokuba's relationship with Gozaburo, and the nature of Yami and Seto's relationship. So the story that's appearing is somewhat different, and I think deeper than the original version.

OrangeGirlExplosion – Glad you liked it.

Lone Wolf 55 – Thank you – you were the first person to review, and it's good to see you back.