Please Read and Review: This begins a series of 5 ½ chapters which will bring the story to a close. Everyone's been great, and I would love to know how you think the conclusion's going.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Continuity: I'm in the process of making minor continuity corrections. The one affecting this chapter, is that Mokuba should be 12, not 11 as I stated earlier.
THANKS: Spirit Star had asked earlier about Kaiba's feelings about Yugi and Yami's bond. I realized that, although I had this pretty clear in my mind, I had only put a couple of sentences about it into this chapter. Since it's not enough to have the story in my head, I decided it was time Yami and Seto had a serious talk on the subject (although "talk" may be the wrong word.)
I would like to thank Kagemihari for critiquing their conversation, and helping me to make it stronger with her perceptive comments. And I would like to thank her and samurai-ashes for letting me complain for weeks about the problems inherent in narrating a chapter from the POV of an inexpressive emotional idiot like Seto Kaiba.
CHAPTER 23: THE CHALLENGE
SETO KAIBA'S NARRATIVE
I had forgotten that Anzu was a witch.
It had been an exhausting day. I had finally shown Yami my duel cuff. It was the first thing I had ever created solely for me. I was building Kaiba Land to fulfill one of my many promises to Mokuba. I had destroyed Kaiba Corporation's weapon factories. I had changed its nature as I struggled to change my own, in a useless attempt to redeem our name. But I had designed the duel cuff simply from a desire to see the monsters I had glimpsed in that first Shadow Game, to give life to them, to share them with Yami. To lay them before him as a gift... or an offering.
I was flushed with triumph – and with embarrassment as well. The demonstration had ended with my seduction on my own computer lab floor. Later, with Yami's gentle eyes on me, I forced myself to keep my expression neutral; to stop myself from grinning shyly with the remembered pleasure of having been in his arms. All I wanted to do now was to curl up at home with Mokuba and Yami. Admittedly, that's all I want to do every evening. But Yami had already made plans – we were to have dinner with Yugi and Anzu instead.
I had once wondered what price Yami would demand of me. Now I knew: that I surrender my detachment. At home I could forget that I lived behind a wall of ice. At work it seemed normal. Only Yugi and his friends forced me to confront that barrier of my own creation, forced me close enough to burn in its freezing grip.
So I looked at those evenings at the Turtle Game Shop, surrounded by Yugi's friends as a form of payment. I still thought they were a singularly useless bunch. None of them would have lasted a week in Gozaburo's house, and that was how I measured all people. But boring as they were, they were almost as important to Yami, as Mokuba was to me. And Yami had been endlessly kind to my otouto. I had incurred a debt that I discharged with what grace I could muster.
Yami must have spoken to them. Once they would have flown at me like the stinging insects they resembled. They would have peppered me with questions, with demands, and finally with insults when I did not respond. Now they left me alone to sit in a corner under the benevolent eye of Sugoroku, who should have hated me. (Why didn't any of these people ever hold grudges?) I didn't make the mistake of thinking that they accepted me as one of the gang, tolerating my quirks as they did each other's. It was more that they were inured to my presence, as if I was just another accessory that Yami carried around, like his odd collection of bangles and belts.
I am being uncharitable, as I often am. But I am also being untruthful, which, I hope, happens more rarely. For I do not think Yugi worthless, although, that could simply be because I don't know what to think or how to feel about him anymore. And my own uncharacteristic uncertainty annoyed me.
For although I would never admit it, Yugi reminds me of Mokuba. Or rather, he reminds me of the kind of person I secretly hope Mokuba will grow up to resemble. The one thing that scares me is the thought of how easily Mokuba could have become my double – when I am the blueprint for all I want him to avoid. And Yugi, with Mokuba's warmth and openness, is my opposite in so many ways.
And, after all, Yugi did save my life -- although I still think he made the wrong decision. I can't say that I ever showed, or even felt, much gratitude – but at least I have tried to use the time well.
But if Yugi had given me back my life, he had also forced me to live with the knowledge that had our positions been reversed, I would have dropped him from Pegasus' tower as casually as tossing a stone into the sea.
When Yami had shattered my heart, he had given me back my conscience (another present of dubious value). So when I thought of Yugi, I felt a prickle of shame. He had saved Mokuba's life. Worse, he had done it after I had almost killed his Jichan. He had the opportunity to take his revenge in the most complete way possible, and had refrained. But I could no longer pretend that he was a fool for showing mercy. He wasn't. He just wasn't a killer, either. And I no longer looked down on that. He was a fitting aibou for Yami – more so than I.
Which was probably why it always hurt to hear his name on Yami's lips, although I was not afraid of being betrayed in the conventional sense. And I didn't realize that this one silence, among my many silences, had caught Yami's ear. Or that there might be something that he needed my reassurance on as well – until the night before Mokuba and I had gone to ground to test the new duel cuff.
"You're taking him out of school for how long?" Yami had asked incredulously.
Whenever there was something he wanted to ask; something he knew I didn't want to answer – he waited until we were in bed at night. Preferably after we had made love, or fucked each other, or whatever is your verb of preference. Maybe he figured it was the only time I might be relaxed enough to hear him out before yelling. Maybe he just wanted a comfortable place for the reconciliation scene after I started the inevitable fight.
"For as long as it takes to test the system," I said patiently. "Hell, did you forget he's the vice president of Kaiba Corporation? Or did you think that was a joke?"
"He's only 12. He should be in school."
Although Yami didn't mention his name, I knew where this was coming from, and the rein on my temper started to slip. After all, anger is my default setting. And knowing how badly I had failed Mokuba was enough of a burden, without having to listen to Yugi's comments as well.
"Let me guess. This is one of Yugi's helpful suggestions." I sneered. "In case it escaped your notice – he doesn't have a business – or a brother. So don't tell me how to manage either.
Oh, what's the use? You don't trust me, do you? And you never will." I said wearily. "Just drop it."
"Just drop it?" he repeated with rising anger. "Why? So I can watch you lie here, silently twisting everything I've ever said to feed your rage? So I can watch you bury your feelings, watch them eat at your heart until they're just one more nightmare to add to the collection?"
I could feel the fury rising in my throat. I swallowed; forced it down. But I knew that wouldn't work for long.
"Yami, let it be. I don't want to do this."
"And I don't want to feel like I have to hesitate every time I say Yugi and Mokuba's names in the same sentence." He responded. "Why are you so angry? It wasn't a bad suggestion. You must know that 12 year-olds typically don't miss school to play with holograms. Or did you reject the idea simply because it came from Yugi?" He paused, "Seto, I need to know what you're thinking; what you're feeling."
He wanted to know what I was feeling? I was feeling my blood singing in my veins. I was feeling my rage, like my dragons, surging through my body, crying for release. I tried, like a man on a cliff, to hold on.
I didn't want to do this.
"I've got a news flash for both you and Yugi. It's way too late to pretend that Mokuba's ever had a typical, happy, little childhood. I tried. I couldn't give that to him." I said bitterly. "So, I'm giving him what I can. I'm training him to run the company some day."
Yami was silent, but I heard – no, I imagined – the words, "... the same way Gozaburo trained you." Hanging in the air. Yami hadn't said them, hadn't even thought them, but I heard them all the same. And I reacted as viciously as I could.
"I would never hurt Mokuba again. You should know that. But you don't. Is that why you check up on everything I do with Yugi? Did you need his permission before you fucked me, too? Well, the next time you decide to stab me in the back by having a little heart-to-heart chat with your precious hikari about my failures as a brother – keep it to yourself!"
"You don't think...." Yami whispered.
For once, his eyes echoed my own turmoil. For once, I had hurt him, as I had meant to, in his weakest spot.
Yami was the best thing that had happened to me – the only good thing – since Mokuba. And I was screwing it to hell. I can't say I was surprised. I'd always rated my abilities to stay in the relationship pretty low; had always known it wouldn't be long until I finally drove him away. It was expected; acceptable, even.
But I had done something that I would have sworn was impossible. I had made Yami doubt himself; doubt the keystone of his character. I am who I am. I have to go for the kill. But all those times I had taunted him – Yami had been so calm, so patient. I had never really believed I could hurt him. Now I had divided Yami against himself. And I had done it reflexively, almost without thinking – and that was not acceptable.
It wasn't even like I believed my own words. I knew Yami cared for me; maybe even loved me. I had simply said the most hateful, hurtful things I could. And I had forced him to feel disloyal for his feelings, when I knew no betrayal had been intended.
Abruptly, my anger deserted me. Its flight shocked me back to sanity; left me dazed and tongue-tied once again, as I surveyed the wreckage on the field. My anger had exploded outwards; I had rejoiced to let it go – until it had wounded Yami.
For Yugi was his great weakness, as Mokuba was mine. I knew, or should have known, the damage my twisted words would cause as they hit the wrong target. Yami had never been my enemy. He was my lover. If nothing else, I owed him my honesty.
For one, it was my turn to comfort him.
"Shit, Yami – I didn't mean it. I don't know why I keep pushing you away, when all I want to do is stay in your arms. When I'm terrified that one day, you'll wake up, and I'll lose you. That one day, I'll wake up and find you gone; find that everything I've ever wanted has vanished with the night.
But whatever happens, I want you to know, I do understand... about you and Yugi, I mean. Yugi is your light. Hell, I know that. You crave his presence... like a solar battery needs the sun to recharge.
Yugi and I – we're both in here," I said, putting my hand over his heart. "Did you think I wouldn't know – or that I'd blame you for how you feel? Hell, I know all about divided loyalties. After all, Mokuba has the first claim on the patched up remains of my own heart."
"There's more left than you think," he breathed.
I couldn't believe him. Even now, he was still trying to comfort me.
"God damn it to hell, Yami. I don't know what you could possibly see that makes this all worthwhile."
It was true. I was no nearer to understanding him than the day he had barged into my office and gotten so mad at me; than the night he had kissed me for the first time. I had reluctantly given up on trying to figure out why he bothered; why he cared. I was working on accepting it without understanding – but it was rough going. Blind faith and trust had never been my style.
Despite his words, I could still see the shadow of the guilt I had put there in his eyes. I swear I didn't know I had the power to hurt him – not like this. And I had to find out if I had the power to heal, as well as destroy.
"Yami, I didn't last this long, or get this far, without learning to read people. Your word can be trusted, even more absolutely than my own."
Damn, this was hard. I wished Yami could just shatter my heart again, and take out the pieces he wanted. It probably would have been less painful for the both of us. I took a deep breath and released the words in a rush; before I could stop or censor them.
"You protected Mokuba for me. You shattered my heart – then became the darkness that shielded me as I rebuilt it. I know that now. Did you think I wouldn't crawl into your heart in return – learn it as intimately? Don't you remember – I was the Devil's Sanctuary that kept you safe while you battled Malik. Our souls crossed that day. I know you. And you could never break the promise you sealed with your body."
This time, his lips were the ones parted in surprise. This time, I was the one who could not resist. I leaned over and touched them slowly, gently, with my own. My soul had once been trapped in a playing card, until he freed it. Now, I tried to return it to his keeping; as if I could breathe it into his body. My lips traced the column of his neck, the planes of his chest; my tongue catching on his nipples; trailing fire down his body.
I was on top of him; kissing, fondling every inch of him I could reach. I had been in this position before, of course – when I could no longer bear the thought of my own surrender; when I was feeling charged, or challenged, or – God help me – playful.
But this was different. As I straddled him, stroked him, caressed him, brought him to climax, claimed him – it was as if I could prove my trust only by possessing him... by being one with him... by being inside of him. I took him with a gentleness I did not know was within my compass. Once again, trusting my body to find the words I could never bring myself to say.
This time, I was the one cradling Yami in my arms as he drifted off to sleep.
No, I was not jealous of Yugi in the conventional sense. Nor did I hate him. How could I? In the end, he was a part of Yami.
Of course, looking back on that night, I suppose I should have spoken or written to Yami afterwards, instead of hiding in the computer lab (my true home in the mansion) testing my design. But my desire – my need – to see him when I emerged was so strong, it froze me in place; as if voicing my hopes would insure that they never came true...
And I knew if I simply did nothing, Mokuba would find the right words far more easily than I. (After all, what are little brothers for?)
I admit, I have some tolerance for Anzu as well. She had been kind to Mokuba when everyone else wrote him off as 'Kaiba's little brat'. If I was resentful of the fact that Mokuba confided in her, (and I was), I was grateful to her as well. And Mokuba more than liked her. Seeing them together reminded me of how quickly he was growing up. In another year he would be a teenager. It was strange and scary and…wonderful… to think he would soon be in the market for a girlfriend for real. And I had to admit, when the time came, he could do a lot worse than to find someone like Anzu, who had proved her loyalty time and time again.
Even if she is a witch.
In a more direct age, she probably would have been stoned or burned at the stake by now. Maybe I should have stayed longer at Good Ol' Domino High, if only to learn what the appropriate feudal punishment would have been for someone who could so unerringly say the one thing I didn't want to hear.
Yami kept going on and on about the duel cuff. If he had ignored it or even hated it, I guess that would have stung, but I would have shrugged it off as I did any other less than fatal blow. His acclaim was much more painful. He wasn't just praising my technical expertise or my business know-how. That, I'm used to. He had seen a piece of my heart in my creation, and that was why he loved it. The knowledge was almost more than I could bear; almost enough to crack the mask I wore in public.
Contempt or even hatred leaves me unmoved. It's familiar, and I arouse it effortlessly. But I have little practice with affection, except from Mokuba. So I sat there (silently eating up every word), unable to move, my expression frozen. Hopefully I just looked bored.
The talk turned, thankfully, to how we were going to market the thing. I had hosted Battle City to introduce the last duel disk system. I certainly wasn't going to try that again, anytime soon.
The Yugi got his second bright idea, almost as devastating as the little brainwave that had landed Yami in my house, and me in his arms. "You wouldn't have to hold a whole tournament. All you would have to do is duel Yami. People would go nuts!"
"No." I said flatly, and I thought with finality.
"It's okay, Kaiba. You don't have to be afraid." Anzu piped up.
"I'm not afraid of Yami." I sneered, deliberately misunderstanding her. I should have remembered that she was a witch.
Her eyes narrowed at that. "I didn't say that you were afraid of Yami. I said that you were afraid, period. I bet in all the time Yami's been there – you two have never even had a match.
And don't forget – I've seen you with Mokuba. You stand on the sidelines at every duel, endlessly explaining strategy, yet you've never taught him how to play. You said it yourself, when you were battling Noa, you can't fight against him, you can only fight with him at your side. You're afraid that once you pick up your deck, you'll see him only as an enemy that must be destroyed. You're afraid that the anger you call up every time you duel will be strong enough to destroy your love for Mokuba, or Yami."
Who ever said that I loved Yami? I certainly never used the 'L' word, even when referring to Mokuba. But Anzu was right, probably on all counts. Not that I would admit it.
"I've never backed down from a challenge yet," I snarled, "And I'm not going to start now." As soon as the words left my mouth, I remembered where I had heard them last – from Yami as he prepared to knock me off of Pegasus's tower. It's a good thing I don't believe in omens, either.
Actually, Anzu was only half-right. Mercifully, she had missed my worst fear. I'm not surprised she hadn't guessed it. She had never come face to face with the Yami I had dueled. I had seen him fight Jounouchi with friendship, even kindness. I had certainly never felt either while dueling him, myself. Oh, a couple of our matches had started with respect and even concern, but that had never lasted very long. From Death-T to Battle City, the Yami I knew had ruthlessly exploited everything he knew about me; making sure I knew his disdain for me along the way. That was okay. It was fair. It's what opponents do to each other – what enemies do.
But Yami knew me far better now; could destroy me far more easily. He knew where the scars were. He could pick me apart as Gozaburo had, and I had no reason to think he wouldn't.
I had been living in a virtual world created by my own desire; a world where Yami loved me. At Anzu's words, at my acceptance of her challenge, it had vanished as though someone had hit the delete key. Now I was back in the real world – my world, anyway. And I knew what was coming. I had shown weakness. Now I would pay. That was the way life worked – my life, anyway.
Our duel would reveal our time together for the mockery I never wanted to believe, but always knew it was. I would be left with nothing, but the grim realization that winning meant far more to him than I. He was, after all, like me – a competitor first, a predator. It was cold comfort that I didn't trust myself any more than I trusted him.
I tried to hide my thoughts from Yami. I've frequently been accused of being about as expressive as a statue, but now that I needed it, the knack deserted me. Yami waited until that night. I had no trouble going to bed with him. After all, I told myself, it's not like the activities that would take place there required any mutual respect or affection. But I should have known that Yami wouldn't let me off that easily.
He leaned over me, cupping my face in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. "I will not hurt you. You will not hurt me," he said slowly, as if the force of his words, or his crimson gaze, could compel my belief. "Gods, Seto, I would no more destroy you than I could shatter my own reflection. Believe in me and believe in yourself."
Belief in myself was a gift beyond Yami's power to grant. But he had asked for my faith in him, as well. And, as with Mokuba, I could no longer deny Yami anything he truly desired of me. I had made my choice on that first night. Now, I had only to stay the course, wherever it might lead.
I was bound to him, as if he had truly been my pharaoh, millennia ago. Now I clung to that tie with all the determination that adversity had bred into my soul. Gozaburo's lessons, my hard-won knowledge whipped through my mind; my adoptive father's voice rang in my ears. Against that, I set this tenuous binding as a bulwark, or a shield. I didn't know what the day would bring, but I prayed it would hold me through the night.
Yami had asked for my trust. I would give it to him, as best I could. Whether it was wise or foolish no longer mattered. I relaxed into his embrace; let his words lull me to sleep.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just when it looked like Kaiba had made a break through (or was that a break down – with Kaiba. It's sometimes hard to say). Well actually, I think he did. He learned that Yami cares enough about him, that his words matter. He learned that if he lets his anger control him, he can end up destroying the good things in his life. And he learned that when he needs to, he can get beyond Gozaburo's training, and the lessons his life has taught him. But what he can do in a relatively safe environment, and what he can do, when stressed or challenged may be two different things...
Clothes Note: There's an adorable scene in the manga, when it's clear that Yugi is the one picking the clothes, and that Yami gets stuck wearing them. He defends Yugi's taste, even though he's a little embarrassed by it. But I think, now, he'd continue dressing the same way, because it would feel safe, and make him feel like he's still connected to Yugi.
Duel Note: It's clear that Yami cares about Kaiba even as they duel each other, although a very real anger is also being expressed. The result of each duel is that Kaiba learns something about friendship, or letting go of the past, or putting his life together. But I think under stress, Kaiba would only remember the anger, and not the caring.
RESPONSES TO REVIEWS:
AnimeFan Artemis, Crimson Violet Eyes, Desidera, Kagemihari, Ryo0oki, samurai-ashes – Cards: AnimeFan Artemis described Kaiba's deck as being about sacrifice, power and pain – which I think sums it up very well. I think Kaiba's use of the virus cards is a reminder of his creation of weapons, and an ongoing punishment. I originally had Yami asking him to take the cards out, and him replying "Those cards stay in my deck, as long as my weapons are in the world." Then I decided that it was too OOC for Yami to try and interfere with someone's deck.
In Chapter 6 (Nightmares) Kaiba asks Yami if Buster Blader loves dragons even as he's destroying them. I meant the question to apply to Yami and Kaiba's relationship. In each of their duels, it's necessary for Kaiba's sake for Yami to win. He needs to have his heart shattered – nothing else will save him at that point. At Alcatraz Tower, it's only by losing that he learns he has to try and let go of his anger. Each time, Yami is fighting for him as much as with him. So while in Buster Blader, Yami is looking on a dark side of his character, he's also looking on a necessary side. I think this is also the part of Yami that Kaiba is irresistibly drawn to, the part he recognizes on an instinctive level – which is why this is the cards that gets him aroused first.
Ryo0oki -- Thanks for the card site.
L musich – Questions from Chapter 6: The questions in Chapter 6 start to get answered here, 16 chapters later (I just realized – I demand a lot from anyone reading this story). I think Kaiba's starting to open up, but doing it somewhat cryptically, in that he's referring to things between him and Yami through the cards. When Kaiba asks about the Harpy Lady, he's trying to tell Yami that he's not as arrogant or as invulnerable as he appears. When he talks about the Celtic Guardian, he's really talking about how both he and Yami are driven to protect the people they care about, and are sometimes unable to do this.
Samurai-ashes – Yami groping Seto: Thank you for noticing. I sometimes wonder if my limes are so vague, that they're easy to miss – and this is supposed to be a love story.
L musich – card demonstration: Kaiba was demonstrating his invention – they were looking at the cards, not dueling. Unlike the dueling platforms, where the duelists are above the action, here they are in a virtual world that constantly changes depending on what cards are being played. So they are in the forest with the Battle Ox, or on a Castle parapet with the Celtic Guardian.
Samurai ashes – Mokuba's note: As you can see, Mokuba writing to Yami takes on added importance. Somehow it seemed like Kaiba to have this whole emotional scene, and then disappear for two weeks.
Unsolvable Riddle – Yami and Kaiba's first duel: I agree, there's a surprising amount of tenderness shown at the end, and it's clear Yami is trying to help Kaiba, not simply punish him.
Unsolvable Riddle – Heart of Cards: Kaiba fights against admitting he believes in the heart of the cards, but he's one of the characters most in tune with his cards. He calls his Blue Eyes his heart and soul in the duel against Isis, and tells Yugi before his duel with Pegasus that he can only fight with his dragons by his side. So I think that he actually does get it – e just doesn't want to admit it.
Lightning Sage – Thank you, I'm trying to keep the emotion and romance going.
Ryo0oki – Thank you. I really tried to think both the characters and the story line through – and I'm glad that it shows.
Blue September, Tuulikki – Welcome back!
Lone Wolf 55 – Hope you like the DVDs
Blackkightmare, Chibi Angelic Slayer, mOoNiTe rApHsOdy, NiiGeni, Sunrise and Sunset – Thank you. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story and that the characters are continuing to be involving. I can't think of a better compliment than to be addicting.