Author's Introduction:
Apparently, one spectacular kicking of Mokuba's ass wasn't enough, because he's back for another round. Luckily, it involves one of my—and Yami's—favorite things: food!
Bon appetit. I don't know if I spelled that right since I failed my French final. ^smiles.^
**
Chapter Sixteen, Twenty-Sixth Duel: Wheel of Fortune
Whatcha gonna tell your dad, it's like a wheel of fortune
Whatcha gonna tell your dad if this wheel lets you down?
My love is my engine, and you might be fuel
Stop acting cool, just bet you might win
I'm not too cruel
I'm in love with another fool
(Wheel of Fortune)
(Ace of Base)
**
"Ow, ow, ow." Yami scrubbed the side of her face with the sleeve of her From Autumn to Ashes sweatshirt pulled over one hand. She had wet a napkin in the arcade's bathroom and washed the blood off with hand soap, but the cut still looked nasty.
"That'll teach ya to wear barbells in your ears." Joey ruffled Yami's hair affectionately. She reached up to touch the barbells and stuck out her tongue at him.
"No, really, how are you feeling?" Joey asked, with a brief return to severity. It had only been minutes since she had been hit at the arcade.
She smiled, winking one red eye at him. "I feel fine. I'm a lot better since you got my Puzzle back, Joey."
Knew you would be. "No problem, kiddo." Joey stroked a large hand down Yami's short hair. "Where do you wanna go now?"
A black limo purred alongside the curb beside them, gleaming in the late-afternoon sunlight. It slowed until it was driving at the same speed Yami and Joey were walking. Yami stopped suddenly. "What do you suppose—?"
The limo parked, and a long black-trousered leg slipped out of the car, boot clicking on the sidewalk. Yami and Joey tensed, coming face to face with—
"A bellhop?" Yami asked incredulously, letting go of Joey's arm.
"To be completely accurate, madam, I'm a chauffeur," the tall, spindly man answered, brushing imaginary dust off of his red uniform and black trousers, slim fingers flickering over shiny gold buttons. A small hat sat atop his short dark hair.
"What's a chauffeur?" Joey asked, rubbing one hand across the back of his blond head.
"A driver in a hat," Yami explained, turning to him and forgetting the limo entirely until the bellh—ah, chauffeur—cleared his throat loudly.
Yami and Joey turned back towards him.
"Miss Yami and her friend, I presume?" he said with a little bow, as though it had been rehearsed.
"It's Ms.," Yami corrected politely.
The chauffeur rolled his dark eyes slightly, but repeated, "Ms. Yami and her friend, I presume? Master Seto cordially requests your presence at his house!"
Yami's hair stuck up again in that static-electricity kind of way, and there were blue patches beneath her eyes once more. "S-Seto K-Kaiba? Joey, I don't think this is such a good—"
"Wow, a limo!" Joey yelled, already in the back seat. "Come on, Yami, they've got Jolt Cola back here!"
**
Joey stretched both his arms behind his head and sighed a lap-of-luxury kind of sigh. Yami, by contrast, chugged nervously at her Jolt and sat bolt upright on the white leather seats. She glanced out the tinted windows and wondered what it was like to always be like this, able to see everything around you but invisible just the same.
"I wonder why Kaiba's inviting us to his house?" Joey asked, echoing Yami's thoughts aloud.
"At least we'll be able to see if he's all right," Yami answered, voicing a fear she hadn't realized she had had until now. "He hasn't been in school recently. I was beginning to..."
...worry...
"I was beginning to wonder," she finished smoothly, and sipped her Jolt.
"Yes," the chaffeur said from beyond the lowered partition, reminding Yami and Joey of his existence. "Master Seto has been busy. He has been working on an important project. He is the president of KaibaCorp, after all."
"I can't believe he does all that and he's still in high school!" Joey punched the seat, earning him a glare from the chauffeur in the rear view mirror.
"I had no idea KaibaCorp was such a big deal," Yami said.
Joey turned to stare at his best friend, mouth agape. "Come on, Yami. It's only one of the top companies in the world in the toy and game business."
Yami's eyes were blank; she was remembering the high-score lists on the games in the arcade scrolling past her eyes, and the name that was atop every list. KAI. "No wonder Kaiba's so proud of being a great gamer...he'd have to be, to be president!"
Without warning, a shock of black hair peeked around the passenger seat and over the partition. "And I'm the vice president!"
"Eeh!" Yami swallowed her heart, then recognized the speaker and frowned. "Oh, it's just you."
"It's been a while, Yami!" Mokuba Kaiba chuckled, ignoring the insult, his violet eyes hectically brilliant. "I had fun the other day, didn't you?"
Yami smirked. "Sure did, hon. I especially liked the part where I beat you at your own game."
Once again, Mokuba seemed unaffected by Yami's words. Instead, he looked up at the rearview mirror and speared her with those glassy violet eyes. "You're lucky, Yami! You're going to get the V.I.P. treatment this time! The big project my brother was working on is finished, and the opening ceremonies are tomorrow!"
"Opening ceremonies?" Joey asked.
Mokuba's eyes became round and guileless, pretending to be innocent. "My brother's so thoughtful and considerate—he wanted his two friends to be the first to enjoy it. He's giving you a special invitation—and that includes the pre-opening celebration tonight!" Mokuba turned to face forward, his long hair spilling over the back of the seat.
"What is this project, Mokuba?" Yami asked calmly, hoping to wring some information out of the boy.
Mokuba turned again, his violet eyes gleeful. He knew what she was up to. "It's a secret—a surprise! You'll just have to wait to find out!" He giggled wildly, then turned again, hair flicking like black flame.
Yami huddled down into the leather seat. This kid doesn't like me. I've got a bad feeling about this...
Joey sipped his Jolt, happily unaware of the bad vibes. Meanwhile, Mokuba tried his hardest not to laugh maniacally with glee in the front of the car.
This is it, Yami Motou! This project is our revenge on you! This is Death-T!!
**
Yami spent the first fifteen minutes in front of the Kaiba mansion simply gazing at its splendor. Her eyes were round as saucers and her gaze swept slowly up, then down, then up again.
"Do you like it?" Mokuba asked, arching an eyebrow at her odd behavior. He leapt out of the limousine and threw his long hair over his shoulder in an almost girlish gesture. Now that he was standing upright, Joey could see that he was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved shirt with the number "5" on it. It looked familiar, like the numbers on those capsules Yami had once tried to teach him to play chess with.
Kid must like games as much as his big bro, Joey thought.
"It's the most magnificent place I've ever seen," Yami answered, the mansion looking like a sprawling paradise compared to her own tiny room above the game shop. "I had no idea this is what it looks like in the day time!"
Both Mokuba and Joey started uncontrollably, turning to stare at her.
Yami jumped, realizing her mistake. She had forgotten that no one else knew about that night she had played cards in the poolhouse with Seto Kaiba...
She blushed scarlet and laughed nervously. "A ha ha! Shall we go inside and meet Kaiba now?"
Both Mokuba and Joey gave her a funny look, but said nothing more on the matter. Mokuba's face returned to its false cheer. "Let's go in and you guys can make yourselves at home!"
The massive doors swung open, and Yami entered the Kaiba mansion for the first time.
**
"Now what is she doing?" Mokuba demanded, crossing his arms and leaning his weight on one leg in the doorway.
Joey looked embarrassed. He wasn't sure if this was what Mokuba had meant by "making themselves at home". "Ah, Yami...I don't know if that's polite, you know?"
Yami was busy taking off her ankle boots. She wiggled her toes in her sheer black stockings, then walked happily across the plush burgundy rug. "Soft," she pronounced happily. "You should try it!"
Joey shook his head and turned to Mokuba, waiting for the kid to blow his top, but the boy was kneeling, removing his sneakers. "You know, I've never done this before!" he said cheerfully to Yami, joining her as she walked barefoot down the entryway.
On the other side of the room was a large double staircase, carpeted with the same burgundy rug. In front of the staircase stood a line of men and women dressed exactly as the chauffeur had been, all except for one little man in a tuxedo. The lights on the chandelier overhead gleamed off his bald head, and Yami didn't like the glasses that hid his eyes. Without his eyes to complete his expression, his smile looked eerie and unfinished, more of a leer.
Yami felt a little uncomfortable in front of so many well-dressed people. She was suddenly painfully aware of her plaid skirt, her torn nylons, her shoeless feet. Her black tank top was hidden beneath her From Autumn To Ashes sweatshirt, but the sweatshirt itself looked ragged from being washed so many times, because she wore it as much as possible. Feeling like an orphan of the storm, she shrank a little behind Joey, whose leather jacket at least looked classy over his white t-shirt and jeans.
"Welcome," the little man said, that leer never wavering on his wrinkled face. "We have been waiting for you!"
Mokuba chuckled. "These are our servants."
The little old man clasped his knotty hands together. "You are Master Seto's school friend, Ms. Yami, are you not? Master Seto has ordered us to make your stay as pleasant as possible."
"This is a lovely house," Yami began, but Mokuba interrupted. "Hey, where's my brother?"
The little man bowed slightly. "Yes...Master Seto retired to his rooms a while ago..."
Mokuba allowed his surprise to show plainly on his face. Yami imagined she could see a little exclamation point dancing above his head. "What's his problem!?" Mokuba said, his voice thinning. "Why isn't he here for the pre-opening celebration?"
The old man smiled. "Master Mokuba, Master Seto has been working nonstop these last few days," he purred, trying to appease the younger Kaiba. "I believe it would be best not to disturb his sleep."
Mokuba pouted and kicked a foot absently. "Sorry about this, Yami," he said, turning back towards her. "Looks like my big brother won't be able to see you for a while." He brightened suddenly. 'I guess that means tonight you're my guests! I'll take good care of you!"
Yami smiled down at his exuberance. "That's nice of you."
The old butler leaned down towards the boy. "Master Mokuba, shall we prepare a meal...?"
Yami felt hunger nibble at her belly, and couldn't stop her eyes from brightening. Joey voiced what she was thinking. "Yeah! That sounds good! I'm starving!"
"I am sort of hungry," Yami admitted, placing a hand guiltily over her stomach.
Mokuba's violet eyes sparkled. "Why didn't you just say something?" He grinned. "I'll treat you to the best food in the world!"
Yami smiled. "Ring Dings?"
Mokuba turned to the butler once more, and the innocent little boy was gone. He was a rich, spoiled vice president. "You! Prepare the special course!" he bellowed as loudly as he could in his small voice, pointing a commanding finger at the butler.
Yami jumped at the harsh tone in the kid's voice, amazed by how rude he was, even to someone he called "servant". But the little man smiled and bowed.
"Yes sir! We will serve it at once!"
Mokuba grinned and turned to Yami, who was dancing slightly in happiness.
No one beats Mokuba Kaiba at Capsule Monster Chess...or anything else! It's payback time, Yami-girl!
**
Yami licked her lips prettily as she looked over the table they were led to. "Is that a chocolate parfait?"
They were seated around a large turntable that was divided into six slice-shaped sections. Yami's eyes were stuck on the chocolate parfait, but there were also pancakes, a hamburger, a personal pizza, spaghetti, and a cardboard box that reminded Yami of the time she had made a purse out of a Happy Meal container.
Joey's nose wrinkled slightly. I was looking forward to some fantastic cooking, but this is a sundae, pancakes...is that a Happy Meal? This is exactly what a spoiled kid would think of—
"Woo!" Yami interrupted Joey's thoughts happily. "Is there dibs on those pancakes?"
Joey arched a brow at his friend. She was not helping his case.
Mokuba grinned wickedly. "I'd love to say the pancakes are all yours, Yami," he purred, "But wouldn't you rather earn them?"
Yami pursed her lips, looking like she would rather eat the pancakes right away. "Earn them?"
Mokuba's violet eyes were alight with something maniacal and...evil. "If I just let you eat the pancakes right away, that wouldn't be interesting! What do you think about playing a little game?"
"Game?" Yami couldn't help looking curious, smiling over the turntable at the younger boy.
Mokuba touched a small finger to the turntable, spinning it slowly, absently. "This is a turntable, like they use in Chinese restaurants. The game I made up is this—we three each take turns spinning the table, and then we eat the food that's in front of us!"
Joey's eyes narrowed. "What is it, poisoned?"
Mokuba laughed loudly, almost nervously, his eyes crinkling at the sides. "I would never do that to a guest! What kind of host would I be then!"
Yami raised her eyebrows so high that they were hidden in her vanilla bangs.
"Actually," Mokuba continued with a smile, "there's a wonderful treasure hidden in these dishes! The person who finds it wins the game!"
"What could be a better treasure than food?" Yami wondered aloud, touching her lips with he index finger.
"All right! Let's do this!" Joey decided cheerfully. "I'll teach you guys how to win this kind of game!"
Mokuba smiled. "Then you start, Joey!" He indicated the wheel with an almost lazy wave of his hand.
"Baby needs a new pair of shoes!" Joey joked as he gave the wheel a mighty spin, turning the food on the plates into a colorful blur. Yami's head moved from side to side as she tried to follow the chocolate parfait. The wheel slowed, and pizza, pancakes, parfait all passed Joey by until the section containing the Happy Meal stopped in front of him.
"Grrrrr..." Joey's ears seemed to flatten in the manner of an angry dog as he looked over the Happy Meal.
Yami tapped his shoulder. "Can I have the box to make another purse?"
Joey turned to snarl at her, and she reared back and giggled.
Mokuba was still focused on the situation at hand. He tapped the table to interrupt Yami and Joey. "You'd better eat alllll of it, Joey," he warned teasingly. "You never know! You might find the treasure!"
Joey seemed to brighten at the thought, and he pried open the flaps on the Happy Meal box with eager hands.
"Is it chicken nuggets?" Yami asked hopefully, nosing closer to peek into the box, but Joey snarled at her once more.
Joey munched french fries with one hand and his teeth, keeping one hand free to keep Yami away from the food. "For cryin' out loud, it's your turn next, ya little eating machine," he laughed, mouth full of chicken nugget. Despite his complaints about what he had to eat, he seemed to be enjoying himself.
Yami suddenly caught sight of Mokuba's stance across the table and raised a dark eyebrow at him, but the boy was too focused on Joey to notice. He had risen on his small knees in his chair, hands pressed flat to the table so hard the skin was mottling. He seemed to be leaning closer and closer to Joey every second, eyes piercing and intense, as if he were waiting for something...
Yami frowned. ...waiting for wh—
Her question was answered before she had even finished asking it. Something was wrong with Joey.
The blond had stopped chewing mid-nugget, and a frown crossed his face before he swallowed, hard, as if it were difficult. His face was pale, a greenish hue spreading under his eyes.
"Joey?" Yami asked worriedly, touching his shoulder. "Joey? Are you all right?"
Joey opened his mouth to answer, or scream, or vomit, but the only sound that issued forth was a strangled cry from a suddenly constricting throat. The greenish color of his face slid to blue, and he collapsed forward slightly, the dishes clinking as he rattled the table.
"Talk to me, Joey!" Yami shrieked, grabbing her friend's arm, but Joey only groaned and pitched forward, tipping from his chair to curl up on the floor.
Yami screamed and knelt at Joey's side, her head whipping up as she looked to Mokuba for help—only to see the small boy standing up on his chair, clapping his hands wildly. "Bingo!! We have a winner!!"
Yami's jaw dropped. It can't be!...
Mokuba collapsed back to sit in his chair, kicking his feet and giggling maniacally. "Mwa ha ha! Looks like you found the treasure, Joey!"
"Mokubaaaaaa—" Yami said warningly, rising to her feet. This little monster's trying to kill us!
The kid was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his cheeks. "Ha—h-he was—he was—ha ha ha!" Collecting himself and wiping his eyes, he continued. "He was right! It was poisoned all along!" His violet eyes went steely again even through the tears of mirth. "I call this little game Russian Roulette Dinner! Cause if you eat the wrong thing, you'll die of the poison in thirty minutes!"
Yami's ruby eyes shot wide. Thirty minutes?! She glanced down at the now-unconscious Joey. That's barely any time—!
She pressed an ear to Joey's chest, listening to his breathing. Sounds like a bucket of bolts...
With a shaking hand, Yami tugged at the zipper of her From Autumn To Ashes hoodie. Whipping the sweatshirt off, Yami wadded it up into a ball and used it as a pillow for her friend's blond head, being careful not to hurt him with the punk-rock buttons and pins that decorated the pockets. Joey's breathing had become shallow and his eyes were shut tightly. She could feel the sting of tears press hard behind her eyes, but she knew they wouldn't help him. Pulse hammering, she racked her brain for a plan.
I have one, that cool, dark voice in her head whispered.
"Mokuba!" Yami spat, rising to her feet once more and smacking a flat palm down to the table. "This time—you're dead!"
But the boy was calm. "Maybe!" he agreed, sitting back in his chair as though it were a throne. "There are five dishes left!, and one more prize among them!"
Yami wasn't going to get a bettter segue than that. "This is no game," she swore. "There's no way to win!"
"Oh, but there is!" Mokuba trilled, holding something teasingly under Yami's nose—a small, thin vial of colorless liquid. It rolled in the glass tube and Yami felt her heart leap a little. "If you win, you get this antidote and you can save Joey!"
Yami looked down at the table. "It appears to be my turn," she sighed, spearing Mokuba with angry red eyes. "And I'm quite hungry..."
Yami's movements had become the languid, catlike movements of the Game Queen. She spun the table almost lazily with one slender, tapered finger, sending it spinning faster than Mokuba would have thought a girl could do it. Finally a dish spun to a stop in front of Yami, who was now leaning on the table with her elbows. "Spaghetti?" she sighed, as though she were disappointed. "It seems those pancakes and I aren't meant to be together!"
"Eat up, eat up!" Mokuba coached, handing Yami a fork. "Come on, Yami, aren't you hungry?"
Yami narrowed her ruby eyes at him and twirled the pasta languidly around her fork. "Starving," she murmured, sucking on a strand of spaghetti until it disappeared between her heartshaped lips.
Mokuba watched, waiting for Yami to finish the spaghetti. "Looks like you're safe, Yami!" he chortled. "Your spaghetti musn't have been poisoned."
"It needed more oregano," Yami snorted, licking sauce from her lips with a small pink tongue.
Mokuba allowed a dark frown to cross his features. "You are in no position to abuse my hospitality—not when you're eating a meal where you could live or die!" he roared, pointing a finger across the table. "That's the strongest seasoning of all, Yami—so savor the joy of living!"
Yami couldn't help but angle a glance down at Joey when he said that. The blond was still breathing shallowly; nothing had changed.
Mokuba's hand drifted to a small glass bottle on the table as he reached his other hand for the turntable. "My turn!"
Yami was focused on the bottle and therefore was taken by surprise when the chocolate parfait spun to a stop in front of Mokuba. "Oh, damn!" she shrieked, pounding a small fist on the table in defeat. "I was looking forward to that!"
Mokuba chuckled, gloating over his prize. "Mmmmm," he purred, leering at Yami. "Chocolate parfait! My favorite!"
Yami's eye twitched as she watched Mokuba munch the chocolate parfait, teasing her with the spoon every few bites. "Mokuba? What's in that bottle?" she asked suddenly, eyes drifting back over to it.
It was Mokuba's turn to twitch. His spiky hair seemed to stand on end and his eyes shot wide. "W-what? Oh, y-you mean this?" He touched a suddenly shaking finger to the glass bottle. "It's a syrup bottle! Sweet, sweety syrup for your precious pancakes!"
"If it's for the pancakes..." Yami crossed her bronze arms. "...then why is it empty?"
Mokuba chuckled nervously, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. "I'll tell you why! As soon as you eat the poison, I'll fill the bottle! Your suffering is going to be sweeter than any syrup!"
Yami seemed to accept the explanation; she settled back in her chair and Mokuba breathed a small inward sigh of relief. That girl sends chills up my spine. I never thought she'd notice the bottle! Stupid girl is smarter than I thought...
Yami had been right to notice the bottle. It was actually a switch that allowed Mokuba to stop the table wherever he wanted.
Mokuba tried to slow his breathing. But that was too close. She's going to catch on if this game goes on much longer...
I'm going to gain fifty million pounds if this game goes on much longer, Yami thought, dabbing delicately at her lips with a white linen napkin.
Mokuba speared her eyes with his own. The poison's in the hamburger, Yami...and I think you've just ordered the house special!
"Hey, Mokuba," Yami said suddenly, sitting forward in her chair. "What do you say we finish this in one go? We'll spin the wheel, and then we'll eat whatever's in front of us? Hm?"
Mokuba grinned. "Sounds good to me."
Yami spun the table harder than ever before, giggling. "Here we go!"
Mokuba laughed too. Stupid girl! Spin the table as hard as you can! The poisoned hamburger will always stop in front of you as long a I have this—
There was a horrible sound like a thousand crystal glasses falling to the floor, and Mokuba's eyes instantly fled to his precious switch—or the shards of glass that were left of it. It spilled like glitter all over the table, sparkling in the overhead light.
Broken?! Mokuba shrieked silently. How?!
Yami chuckled merrily. "Now there's no cheating, and the rest of the game is up to luck!"
Whatever Yami said, luck wasn't on Mokuba's side—the wheel slowed until the poisoned hamburger stopped in front of him.
!!
The boy couldn't form thoughts, much less coherent words. His wide, disbelieving eyes bounced from the hamburger, to Yami, to the broken switch, and finally to the cause of the broken switch—the brilliant, steady golden shine of Yami's Millennium Puzzle. It was lying innocently among the shards of the broken switch bottle, its cord tied to the turntable. When Yami had spun the table, the Puzzle had smashed the bottle.
"I hate you," Mokuba finally managed to choke out.
Meanwhile, Yami was happily eating the meal that had stopped in front of her on the turntable—pancakes. She slowly closed her mouth around her fork and smiled at Mokuba, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth to savor the syrup. "You were right, Mokuba. That is sweet." She sighed and placed her fork to one side. "Now, weren't the rules to clean your plate?"
Mokuba glared at Yami and reluctantly bit into the hamburger. She watched him pleasantly, licking syrup from her lips, and remained seated when Mokuba clutched at his throat dramatically before tipping from his chair onto the floor. "H-help me!" he choked, and servants swarmed around him. Yami had already knelt at Joey's side with the antidote, stroking his blond hair and smiling down at him.
"Everything is going to be all right," she promised.
**
Despite Mokuba's attempt to kill them over dinner, Yami and Joey were still apparently invited to whatever the next day's "opening ceremonies" were. Yami was shown to a guest room and abruptly left alone.
The only windows in the guest room were less than half a foot high and out of her reach, something Yami found odd. The walls were a pale beige, a small mirror the only decoration. The comforter on the bed was also beige and very soft; Yami liked it. A floor lamp was the only light in the room, and she quickly turned it off to let the moonlight in.
She threw her From Autumn To Ashes sweatshirt over the desk chair and curled up on the bed in her tank top and skirt, happy to be lying down after such a trying day. I'll never sleep, she thought, and then she was dreaming, the dream that had first come to her that night on the roof with Shadi.
**
"Damn you," the priestess spat at her pharaoh, daring to defy him once again.
"I could have you executed for saying such things to me," the king rumbled in response, raking a hand through his spiked hair.
"But you will not," the priestess responded. "You would not."
His angular, handsome face twisted in a sneer. "Does my priestess think she is special? You are not the only one who can control a dragon."
"I am the only one who can control this dragon." The priestess stamped her sandaled foot like a spoiled little girl, throwing shoulder-length dark hair back in fury. "And it is this dragon and my control of this dragon that has saved your life!"
"This dragon" was her pride, her strongest weapon and biggest accomplishment as the pharaoh's best priestess—Slyfer, the Sky Dragon. The beast answered only to her, was loyal to a fault and was more powerful than even the combined might of the three Blue-Eyes White Dragons that followed the hand of the priest Seto.
The pharaoh stalked towards her. "How dare you speak to me this way—"
"Why?!" she demanded, voice breaking finally, and he stopped his advance on her, blinking his large eyes curiously at her sudden sorrow. "Why did you not call Ra?" she asked softly, referring to the only dragon who didn't answer her call—the Winged Dragon of Ra, the most powerful beast in Egypt, who answered only to the son of Ra—the pharaoh.
Her pharaoh, who was standing before her now with the right to execute her for her insubordination, and yet he was stroking her cheek, so gently, with the hands that could order her death.
"There was no need to call the dragon."
"Bakura will come back," the priestess said angrily. "He is not beaten."
"Nor am I," the pharaoh responded. "He could not beat me in a duel today, Sanura, and he will not beat me upon his return."
"We must do something about the tomb robber," the priestess, Sanura, said, but with less conviction than before. She was faltering beneath her pharaoh's gaze, suddenly unsure of herself.
The pharaoh continued stroking her cheek. "My priestess need not worry. Ra favors his son, and he has blessed me with a strong priestess, who is quite overprotective." He chuckled at this last bit, and Sanura frowned.
"I command you to smile at me." Unlike the previous statement, the pharaoh was deadly serious this time around. Sanura locked her violet eyes on his defiantly.
"And if I refuse?"
It was then that her pharaoh claimed her mouth, surprising her. "I have lied to you, Sanura," he breathed against her lips. "You are indeed special. One must be truly special to have violet eyes," he said, blinking violet eyes of his own at her.
**
Yami sighed in her sleep, curling up in an almost catlike position on the large bed. Her dark hair was spread over the pillow, her plaid skirt hiked dangerously high on her thigh.
Seto Kaiba wondered what she was dreaming.
The young CEO's hand hovered over the dark hair, hesitant, but soon returned to his side without touching her. How sad, almost, that he had her trapped so easily. He had expected her to at least put up a fight, not happily curl up in the guest room and await what was coming to her...
She seemed to curl up on herself even more, and Kaiba frowned down at her. It's time, you know. Tomorrow I'll exact my revenge. You'll be mine—you won't escape.
The girl slept on, uncaring.
There was a black sweatshirt folded over the desk chair. Kaiba picked it up, weighing it in his hands for a minute, then draped it over the sleeping girl, as sort of a makeshift blanket. There was no need for him to stay any longer. She wasn't going anywhere...
You haven't a clue what I have in store for you, Yami Motou. You have no idea.
With that, he left the room as silently as he had come in, the click of his master key in the lock lost in Yami's dream.
**
Author's Notes:
Okay, okay. I know that the song for this chapter was indeed Ace of Base. But hey! Much as I'd like to, I can't come up with a punk song for every chapter! I'm a human girl, not a machine! ^chuckles.^ Besides, the Ace of Base album "The Sign" was really important because it was the first album I ever bought with my own money. I was eight or nine years old, I think. Normally I'd give this distinction to the Salt-n-Pepa album "Very Necessary", but that had been a birthday present from my father. ^chuckles again.^ A far cry from the bands I listen to now, ne?
Jolt Cola: My father loves Jolt cola, and when I was a little girl I loved going to his office and just staying there all day. ...Who am I kidding? I still love to do that now. He's got a bunch of Jolt bottles lined up along his windowsill, and the Ship's Service store still sells it, I think. I haven't gone there in a while. I think I might before classes start up again—hopefully on Fish Fry Friday. Mmm...fish fry.
Yami's outfit: Once again, Yami's outfit is on loan from my closet.
Happy Meal: Yes, I did, on more than one occasion in my teenage years, use a Happy Meal container as a purse. Didn't everyone?
Hopefully Mokuba will shut up for a little bit now! Besides, Yami's got bigger things to worry about...much bigger.