A/N: Chapter 13, Egad! I don't really have anything to say, except
remember aalllll the way back in Chapter Two when I said I wouldn't put in
more violent scenes? Well, that was a bit of a white lie, you see, Ayaroi
finished punishing the two "terrorist kind of" guys, and Rena's called in
to investigate, for the police! Ha! But, there is actually a reason-
Seto: You have no good reasons.
Me: Shut up, I'm not done. But oh well I forgot what I was going to say! So read on, and thanks for sticking with me, you all are my shining stars! Woohoo! (P.S. Sou desu ka = I see.)
____________________________
Konton no Millennia
Chapter Thirteen: Hangyakusha no wa Deeto.
By, Rena Campbelle
"Sir, you can't be leaving again!" the man protested.
"Now Inoue-san, I told you, it will only be for a short while, a week, possibly two. I've taken longer business trips before," Seto said, shading his voice.
"But you have just returned from one," the other man pouted.
"Nobu-san, this is important. And you have no right to be questioning my judgment, and if you are, I expect a handwritten retirement release on my desk by this evening. Do you understand?" Seto asked darkly.
"Yes sir," Nobu bowed and left silently.
"I will go g-get stock records f-for you, K-Kaiba-san," Inoue stuttered and left shortly after.
Seto turned back to his computer, smiling arrogantly, "Another fun day in the office."
+~+~+~+~
"Mai, that's my shirt!" Anzu exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going to steal it for the weekend," Mai said sweetly, as she stuffed it into her suitcase.
"Then I'm taking these," Anzu threatened, holding up a pair of designer heels.
"Wait!" Mai cried, "I haven't worn those yet!"
"Too late," Anzu replied with a giggle, setting them into her bag.
"Hey, have you ever worn red before Anzu?" Mai held up a slinky red tube top, "This would look great on you."
"Are you kidding? Yuugi and Jou wouldn't let me outside with that on!" she gasped.
"Then wear this over it, besides we're going to a country where it's always hot anyway," Mai sighed, tossing her the tube top and a small white blouse to wear over it.
"This isn't a vacation, Mai," she said skeptically, "This is serious."
"Listen, if you all want to sit around, moping and depressed, about the end of the world, that's fine by me. Look what it's done to Rena. I've seen turned off televisions that are less vacant than she is, and it's breaking my heart. The first thing I'm going to do is of course, shopping, and I'm forcing you two to go with me," she dropped another bikini in her bag, "Do you think Rena can get us Kaiba's credit card?"
"Mai!"
"It's just a thought," she huffed, "Besides, I'm broke for right now. I spent the last of my money on clothes yesterday, and my endorsement doesn't come in until next week."
"Endorsement?" Anzu asked, as Mai snatched up the sneakers she was about to put in her bag.
"Yes, endorsement, and what are you thinking putting these smelly old things in there?" she handed her one of her own pairs, "Take these. God, how long have you had these?"
"Since Battle City," she said.
"Then keep the ones I gave you, and I'll throw these out," she opened the bedroom door and tossed her shoes down the hallway.
"Ow! Hey watch it!" Honda shouted.
"Sorry," Mai called sunnily.
"What's this?" Anzu asked, picking up a perfume bottle.
"Just some of my smell-good stuff, it's Eau de Citron, she gave it a squeeze.
"Ack!" Anzu coughed, "I got perfume up my nose!"
+~+~+~+~
Jounochi, Honda, and Yuugi were all sitting down stairs when they heard Anzu shout, "That stuff is strong!" To which they heard Mai retort, "You're not supposed to inhale it!" Several thumps later, they heard Anzu say something, and then another thump, and Anzu came running down the stairs her nose red, presumably from rubbing it.
"I don't want to know what you were doing," Yuugi said, "So don't tell me!"
Jounochi and Honda grinned at each other, as the two girls turned on their heel and went back upstairs.
"Chaos in the House of Motou?" Yami asked, pulling up a chair.
"Those two have been going at it since seven this morning," Jounochi laughed.
"Sou desu ka, I chose a good time to leave this morning," Yami smiled.
"More like escape," Honda said. "All our stuff's in the same bedroom, and they've been in there all morning."
"Why don't you tell them to get out?" Yami asked simply.
"If it were that easy," Yuugi said, "But by all means, please, go ahead and try."
"I shall," Yami trudged up the stairs. Things were silent for a while as Yami knocked on the door, and opened it softly.
"GOT OUT OF HERE YOU PERVERT!" the two females shouted, chasing him out behind a barrage of pillows, shoes, and women's clothing.
"Dear Hathor," he cried, jumping down the stairs, "What force is that?"
"The force of the fashion-conscious female," Jounochi said wisely.
"Oooohh," Honda cracked.
"Watch it," Jounochi warned.
"Hey you two, don't start things up down here, too," Yuugi said.
"Things are awfully tense here, aren't they?" Sugoroku chuckled from the counter.
"I think I'll go for another walk," Yami said, edging towards the door, "This is a little too much noise."
"You think you're leaving me here alone?" Yuugi asked, grabbing Yami's shoulder.
"Well, aibou," he grinned sheepishly.
+~+~+~+~
Rena sat on the couch, thumbing through a book idly, while Mokuba sat on the floor, looking haphazardly at a book of his own. All three of them had their bags packed, though Seto's had been packed for him by Regius, and were waiting patiently on the landing. The doorbell rang, and hesitantly, she marked her place in the book and went to the door. Two grim-faced keisatsu stood there on the porch as she opened the door.
One of them, who looked about Andre's age, approached, and handed her his business card, "I'm Officer Kitsuo, and this is my senior, Captain Iwamura."
The captain handed her his business card as well, and asked sternly, "Is Kaiba Seto here?"
"No, he's at work," she responded, backing away from the entry to let them in, "Why?"
"We have some strange news for him."
"He's not being arrested is he?" she said lightly.
"No," Captain Iwamura smiled, "Are you his associate Rena Campbelle? The one who received the phone call?"
"Phone call, you mean, this isn't about. . .?"
"Yes, and we'd like to ask you a few questions," Captain Iwamura said.
"Then please come in," she smiled weakly. The two men bowed and walked in, removing their shoes at the door. She escorted them into the living room where Mokuba was sitting over his neglected homework. Out of the corner of her eye, she notice Kitsuo shuffle, almost uncomfortably. Could he have been nervous with Mokuba sitting there?
Rena introduced them, "Mokuba, this is Captain Iwamura and Officer Kitsuo. Captain, Officer, this is Kaiba Mokuba."
"Hello," Mokuba said carefully. She offered them seats, and took one for herself on the couch. Mokuba scrambled up next to her, his face portraying confusion perfectly.
Captain Iwamura took out a voice recorder, "Do you mind?"
"No," Rena said. Her hands were already a little clammy and starting to sweat. Whatever these men had to say, it wasn't good.
Captain Iwamura watched the girl pale slightly. She seemed all right, just rattled, "All right Campbelle-san, is it true you work for Kaiba Seto?"
"Yes, I'm employed as a personal consultant," she had practiced this, "Kaiba-san has been considering sponsorship in the archaeological excavation for IECI."
"What is the IECI?" Iwamura asked.
"An archaeological excavation in Egypt. The IECI is a collaboration of foreign countries in search of a temple," she replied.
"Sou desu ka," he had read a little bit about Rena Campbelle from her academic files, but her police record was fairly short. Parking tickets basically, and he had been hoping she would give him a little more information on the dig in Egypt. But instead he said, "To the matter on hand, is it true you received a threatening phone call on October 26th?"
"Yes," she blotted her sweaty palms on her pants, "Captain, what's going on?"
"We were able to trace, moreover, Kaiba-san was able to trace the call, and asked us to file a report on it. We were able to link the call back to Tomoe Katsuke and Tatsuya Seiji. But they've been missing for about three days, no trace to where they had went at all, and we've been working on finding them nonstop. It was as if they had disappeared, until this morning."
"Where are they?" she asked, unconsciously wrapping an arm around Mokuba's shoulder.
"We found them in an old warehouse dead, no, murdered," Iwamura said gravely.
"How?" she saw Kitsuo look at Mokuba uneasily. This wasn't going to be pleasant.
Never letting her eyes drift onto the boy, she said, "Mokuba, phone your brother, tell him what's going on."
"We tried to get a hold of him, in fact, we went to his office first, but he had left already. We were hoping he'd be here," Kitsuo said.
Mokuba eased off of the couch and into another room, and Rena said quietly, "You're welcome to stay until he gets here."
"Thank you, we probably will. But these men, we definitely think they're Tomoe Katsuke and Tatsuya Seiji. They were carrying identification, but we'll still do a fingerprint test," Iwamura said.
"How can you 'think' that you know who they are?" Rena asked.
"It's impossible to identify the bodies."
A hard lump pressed at her stomach, "What do you mean by that?"
"The bodies were in horrible condition. They had been beaten to death. I've been a keisatsu probably longer than you've been alive, and this is the worst thing I've ever seen. Nothing like this has ever been done in all of Japan. Every bone broken and rebroken. Contusions on top of more contusions, and autopsy's will probably reveal ruptured organs. Both their skulls smashed and chest caved in."
"That's impossible," she said, "The chest and skull are the closest things the human body has to armor plating! Maybe if a car ran head on into it at high speeds, that might happen, but just beaten?"
"The killer must have been very strong," Kitsuo reasoned.
"No, that's impossible, it's just impossible," Rena sighed. She felt like she needed to throw up.
"I don't know how, but they were shattered, not broken, fractured, or splintered; shattered, just like it was glass," Iwamura said, stroking his stubble of beard.
She gripped the arm of the chair until she thought her knuckles were going to break, but she didn't feel the pain, "Why are you here?"
Kitsuo squirmed in his seat as Iwamura continued, "There are Egyptian markings on the forehead of one. They were either burned or carved there by something. We can't make sense of it. We found out that they were hieroglyphics, but not the same, a kind of variation."
"Vizierglyphs?" she supplied.
"I think that's what they were called. But anyway, I want you to identify them."
"On the man's head?" she cried.
"No, no, no. The same message was inscribed into one of the walls, very large, and we wanted to see if you could come and make sense of it," Iwamura asked politely.
"Make sense of what?" asked Seto from the doorway, Mokuba beside him.
"Seto, oh thank God," Rena sighed, standing wobbly. She crossed over to him slowly, "They found them."
"What?" Seto asked, reaching an arm out to support her. He looked at the police officers warily, and Officer Kitsuo began to relay the story back to him.
"She certainly won't," he growled, when Kitsuo was done, "She'll do no such thing!"
"She'll decide for herself, thank you," Rena said exasperated.
"No way you're going," he said stubbornly.
"I have to," she turned to the keisatsu, "May I have a private word with Kaiba-san?"
"Of course," Iwamura said, leading his junior officer and himself into another room.
She looked at him, "It's going to be a message to me."
He looked away from her gaze as she continued, "And it's going to be from the Daughter of Set. Who else could it be? I have to go and translate it whatever it says."
He brought his face closer to hers and whispered, "All right, but you don't tell them what it means."
"What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"Once you've got the message figured out, you're going to tell the keisatsu that you can't make it out," he replied.
"Why?" she cried.
"Because if it is a warning, then the keisatsu are going to need a little background information. And we're going to have to tell them what the hell is going on, and won't that sound believable? We'll be carted off to the nearest asylum in straightjackets, not to mention everyone we tell outside our circle the Daughter of Set is going to pick off. Look what happened to Tomoe and Tatsuya."
"You're right, you're right," she admitted, waving her hand, "I wasn't thinking."
"I'm right, huh? Does that make three? This calls for a celebration," he brushed his lips softly over hers as the keisatsu walked in again.
"Are you ready to go?" Kitsuo asked.
"Yeah," she looked at Seto, "Stay here and watch Mokuba. He shouldn't be by himself, not with a killer on the prowl."
He looked at her hesitantly, "I don't know."
Kitsuo spoke up, "This isn't something a child should see, a grown adult has no business seeing it."
He looked at her knowingly, and she winked at him, then grabbed her leather coat and headed out to the station wagon the police had come in, as Kitsuo took down the snap-off siren and started the engine.
+~+~+~+~
There was yellow tape stretched all the way around the warehouse perimeter as they drove up. She got out unsteadily, and passed several officers who looked sick; some were deathly pallid.
She walked in slowly, and what she saw astounded her.
Blood had been spattered and smeared on the walls, almost artistically, except for the far wall. It had pooled on the floor, lots of it, so much that it didn't seem real, like a cheap horror film.
Several plastic runners were strewn from several ends of the building's floor for investigators and technicians so that they wouldn't get their shoes sticky. Iwamura walked up behind her and laid his hand on her shoulder, "Whoever did this was crazy, a psychopath; a sane person would not have slaughtered with such savage, blood-spraying glee."
Another officer came up to Iwamura and said in a deep voice, "Captain, the place has been vacuumed, we've finished the photographs except for the message, and tried to lift as many prints as we could. We're moving the victims out."
"Anything special, Waguri?" Iwamura asked. Rena guessed Waguri was a forensic pathologist, although he was badly shaken for someone who should have been accustomed to scenes of violent death.
"It's not pretty, the victim's aren't looking good," he fuddled with his tie.
Rena glared at him, "Don't mince words just because I'm here, officer. I've heard as much as anybody."
Waguri said, "Looks like nearly every bone in the body was broken at least once. On contusion atop another, hundreds, no way to tell how many. I'm positive the autopsy will show organs that have been ruptured, and severe damage to the kidneys." He glanced uneasily at Rena, still unsure of whether or not to go on. She tried to maintain a bland expression of professional interest that she hoped didn't look as sick and phony as it felt.
Waguri continued: "Crushed skull. Teeth broken loose. One eye was jarred out of its socket."
Rena pointed to a chunk of heavy black rock on the floor, "The murder weapon?"
"We don't think so," Iwamura said.
"It was in this guy's hand," Waguri explained, "Had to pry it out of his fingers. He was trying to defend himself." Staring at the opaque body bag, they all fell into a mutual silence. The ceaseless wail of police sirens was simultaneously a mundane and strange sound-like the screech of rusty doors sliding open in a dream to reveal a mysterious and alternate vista.
The coroner's men returned with a wheeled stretcher, and lifted the body up onto it, and wheeled it away, one wheel clattering erratically like a supermarket cart: a cold, clattering noise.
Iwamura led her down the runners to the end of the warehouse, where a great, foreign message was inscribed on the walls, in a language she knew all too well.
In spite of her warm sweater and lined coat, she was cold. Freezing. Her hands were so white they looked dead, and even though there were vents set up around the room to keep the cold away, she knew this chill came from within.
"Can you read this?" Iwamura asked.
And she could, her eyes skimmed over the glyphs, transliterating them, then translating, until in perfect English she said in her mind, "The playing field is set and clean, let the games begin."
"Excuse me, Campbelle-san, can you read this?" Iwamura pressed.
"No," she replied quickly, "I'm sorry." Mentally, she kicked herself, "Really smooth, dear."
"Are you sure, perhaps you need more time," Iwamura said.
"No," she said softly, "I can't read this." Tears were dotting her eyes, and Iwamura supposed them to be from frustration. Really, they were tears of hatred, revulsion at the woman who did this.
"It's all right," Iwamura said, as warmly as he could, "You tried. I'm sorry to have to bring you here."
"I'd like to go home," she said, her voice hardening.
"Yes, Kitsuo will take you home," he motioned for the young officer. He took her home in a patrol car, driving wordlessly. She pressed her head against the cold glass of the window, staring hard at the cloudy sky. It was the beginning of November, and it was all so different, so different when she had arrived in late September. She was emotionally unstable, as her soul slowly numbed to depression. She had thought that once the Rapier was theirs, the tables would turn in their favor. But instead, it got worse. One of her friends might die, they might all die. She might die.
She tried to remember when her life had started its cataclysmic downfall. The night her parents died, she decided, after that, things only got worse. She had herself fooled there for a while, thinking she had recovered in Egypt, with making new friends. But it was a guise, a clever guise, but nonetheless a pretense to what was really happening. Megami was awakening in her mind, and they were already sharing the same body, a physical effort for her to sustain, as well mental. And then she met Seto, Isis help her, she really did love him. Her heart felt like it was slowly being cut into pieces, each precious memory of her life falling further and further away. Was she even living still? She didn't wish for death, no, but sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between whether she was even breathing or not. Sometimes she felt like her head was going to burst, with two people's thoughts in there, sometimes she felt trapped by Megami's power. And then there a few blessed days where she could escape her prison for a moment and be who she truly thought herself to be with her friends, with Seto.
But when Ma'at had shown her heart to her, she had pointed out only that she loved her friends, only that she had been sad once. She never said anything about her melancholy now.
Maybe you're being a little too judgmental of Ra's Nostrils, Megami whispered.
At least tell me when you invade my half of our soul, Rena grumbled.
Sorry, but really now, I'm sure Ma'at had a reason to show you the good points in your life. Maybe so you wouldn't be the way you are now? she supplied.
Go to sleep, Rena said sourly.
It's a good idea, but first you have to promise me you won't pull any crazy stunts until tomorrow.
Won't you be the first to know? Rena asked.
True, Megami mused, But I'm not taking any chances.
I promise, she said limply, and returned to staring out the window.
Kitsuo broke her reverie shortly after, "Excuse me, Campbelle-san, we're here."
"Oh, thank you, Officer Kitsuo, good luck on the case," she said, pushing open the door and crossing onto the porch and through the foyer.
"Seto, Rena's home!" Mokuba called.
"Thank God," Seto said, coming to greet her in the doorway. He stopped short though, noticing how pale and tired she looked. Her eyes were dull and blanch, and her complexion was no better.
A cold sweat started to break around her hairline, "I'm sorry Seto, but I think I'm going to be sick." She ran upstairs for the bathroom, leaving Mokuba and Seto alone.
"I'm worried, oniichan," Mokuba said to his brother.
"About what?" Seto asked.
"Rena, she's not looking good," Mokuba confessed, "I mean, haven't you noticed? Do you care?"
"Sure I care, Rena's a good friend of ours," he said, "But now that you mention it, she does look sick."
"You should go talk to her," Mokuba looked at him.
Seto watched him; Mokuba had an awfully intense glare for an eleven year- old, and even though he could match and beat it, the fact it was even developing was impressive. The company would pass down to good hands. "Yeah, I'll talk to her, but maybe when she comes down."
"That's a good idea," Mokuba said, quite seriously.
Yes, the company would go to good hands.
Meanwhile, Rena was hunched over the toilet, vomiting violently. It wasn't the sight of the warehouse that had thrown her into sudden sickness. One drop of blood, or one body would have caused a more violent reaction of disgust. It was the message, "The playing field is set and clean, let the games begin." Those two men didn't deserve their death, or maybe they did, these men had planned to take the lives of almost fifty people, but life in prison, even capital punishment seemed better than just. . . slaughter. The thought sent her reeling back to the bowl.
Ryou was just another pawn to her, just a way to lure her back into Egypt. So, if according to the Black Mistress that the field was clean did it also mean Ryou had been taken out of the picture as well? Oh, Anpu (Anubis) be kind.
Regius stepped into the doorway as she began to gag and choke once more.
"Oh, goodness, Miss Campbelle, I'm sorry," he apologized, "I just came up here to see if you wanted lunch."
She began to throw up again, shaking her head violently, trying to clear the image of food from her head.
"Right then," Regius said, "I'll go downstairs to fetch the master's, ahem, well, and I must be going." He walked out quickly.
She grasped the sides of the toilet for support as she finished her gagging fit. Coughing fiercely, she lifted herself up to the sink and tried to spit out the rest of the bile that was in her mouth. Her throat was ragged, sore, and dry, and she looked like a total wreck. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on a new outfit, and walked downstairs.
Seto came up to stop her, and she reached in his pocket and grabbed his wallet, kissed him softly on the cheek, then brushed past him and out to her car, all without a word.
He stood there, quite unsure of what he was missing, but he was sure it was important.
Mokuba came up to him, and asked in an anticipated voice, "Did you talk to her?"
"No, she took my wallet, and left, Mokuba," he said, aggravation hinting at his voice, and turned to his office. He slammed the door behind him, and picked up his phone, let it ring, and then Yuugi picked up, "Turtle Game Shop, may I help you?"
"Yuugi, Seto," he introduced himself curtly, "Rena's coming your way, and she's in a bizarre mood, just to let you know," and with that, he hung up, and slouched back into his chair.
She drove recklessly, she had to admit, but hey, she was used to virtually no speed limit. Raised in Montana, moving to New York, Egypt, and now Japan.
"Stop thinking," she told herself, absentmindedly turning on the radio. J- Pop blared out of the speakers, except it was J-Pop gone horribly wrong. Grumbling she punched it off, and drove the rest of the way in silence, pocketing Seto's wallet in her coat.
Unfortunately, silence was not something she liked a great deal, so she put in a CD, and began to relax as rock began to coast out smoothly. Then a song began to play and it was like when you've heard a song forever, and you know it by heart, and when it starts to play, it has suddenly become foreign to you, and you understand it again as the singer sings not to a microphone or audience, but to you, and the song is never the same again.
"Can't change this feeling I'm way out of touch, can't change this meaning, when it means too much.
Never been so lonely, never felt so good.
I can't be the only one misunderstood,
I remind myself of somebody else.
Feeling like I'm chasing, like I'm facing myself alone.
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head; I want some of my own.
I want some of my own; I want some of my own.
Can you see me up here; would you bring me back down?
Cause I've been living to see my fears as they fall to the ground.
I remind myself of somebody else
Feeling like I'm chasing, like I'm facing myself alone.
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head; I want some of my own.
I want some of my own; I want some of my own
Am I hiding behind my doubts?
Are they hiding behind me?
Closer to finding out it doesn't mean anything.
I remind myself of somebody else now.
Feeling like I'm chasing, like I'm facing myself alone.
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head; I want some of my own.
I want some of my own; I want some of my own."
+~+~+~+~
She came in, and at first, Yuugi couldn't recognize her. Rena was pale, and looked ill. She gave him a faint smile as she walked in.
"Are you okay?" he asked, leading her to a seat.
"As soon as I go shopping," she said with a sigh.
"That was an awfully heavy sigh, want to talk?" he asked.
"No, I want to spend thousands of yen."
Yuugi chuckled, "Yeah, Seto called and warned us Hurricane Rena was coming."
"Well, she's here," she smiled.
Mai came downstairs, holding a black skirt, above Anzu's head, and asked Yuugi, "Who would look better in this?" She gave him a glare that told him it better be her.
But Yuugi was too loyal to Anzu to pay mind, "Anzu, of course." Anzu smiled at him and blushed, snatching the skirt from Mai.
"Well, if that wasn't the most biased opinion I have ever heard," she harrumphed.
"You're completely right," Yuugi admitted.
"I should never have asked you. Rena, who looks better in this?" she asked.
"I would," she replied cynically.
"Actually, you might be right," Mai said, grabbing the skirt from Anzu as she turned to go up the stairs. She held it up to Rena's waist, and thought, "Well, it'd be shorter on you, which is very sexy. But you definitely-Eee God!" Mai cried as she finally looked Rena over.
"Is it that bad?" Rena joked.
"No! You look sick!" she said bluntly.
"Well, I don't feel well," Rena pointed out.
"No, I mean sick," she drew a hand through Rena's hair, "We need to get you in to a hairdresser, a makeover, everything, new wardrobe, yipe! But don't worry, once we're done, you'll be as pretty as when I first met you."
"She's still pretty," Anzu said. Rena gave her a thankful look.
"Anzu, no offense, but this girl is walking death," Mai snapped.
"She doesn't look that bad," Jounochi said, coming in from the kitchen.
"You're no help," she muttered, grabbing Rena's arm, "Let's go. We'll take your car."
"Does Rena get a say in it?" Anzu asked.
"No, and you're coming too," she said, grabbing Anzu with her free hand, and lugging the two outside.
"I don't think so, Mai," Rena laughed, as she pushed Mai out of the driver's seat, "This is my baby, I drive, and besides," she flashed Seto's wallet at them, "I've got the goods!"
Mai grabbed the wallet and thumbed through it, "Oh my Kami-sama! The lowest bill he has in here is ten thousand yen! Look at this!" She looked at Anzu's stunned expression and laughed, "See! I told you she could!"
"Could what?" Rena asked.
"That you could get Seto's wallet from him!" she laughed.
"Where to first?" Anzu asked.
"I know," Mai said, "We're going to my salon, and we're giving Rena the biggest makeover ever."
"We are?" Rena asked.
"Of course we are," Mai said pointedly, "We're going to get all this hair of yours whacked off."
"You are not touching my hair," Rena growled.
"Too late," Mai chirped, "And besides, you could use a new look. Turn up here."
The salon was expensive, by the look, the feel, and the people. The place was decorated in a dark crimson, the dressers were primped and very New Age looking with extravagant, even overstated hairstyles, and all were dressed in black finery.
"This is Ujin, my trusted stylist," Mai said exultantly, "No one touches my hair but this guy. This is Rena and Anzu," she said introducing them.
"I'm so glad to see you ladies," Ujin smiled boyishly, "Now what can I do for you?"
"Anything," Mai sighed, "These girls both need a completely new look."
"Of course," Ujin smiled again, giving Anzu his hand, "Now, what do you do, Anzu?"
"Well, I'm, uh, a dancer I guess," she muttered, slightly aback by the abrasiveness of the place.
"And so you must look like one," Ujin waved his hand boldly, "So first, a lady-like, trim, and maybe some highlights. . ."
"Are you kidding?" Anzu said appalled, "My mother would kill me!"
"Rebel, my dear," Ujin smiled, "Be proud of that raging fire inspired by music and dance! Embrace it, flirt with it, love it!"
Anzu looked at Rena, stunned, "Rena, stop me before I do something I'll regret."
"Regret?" Ujin asked puzzled.
"Anzu just wants a facial, maybe a nice manicure too. And a healthy massage," Mai interjected.
"Ah, I see," Ujin said, "Well then, dear Anzu, you've come to the right place. Let's see what we can do."
"Okay," Anzu said hesitantly.
"Let's start with a simple moisturizer," Ujin clapped his hands and two black dressed women appeared from nowhere, each armed with several bottles and cosmetic sponges. One started to rub purple goo on Anzu's face, and the other grabbed her hands and started massaging them with lotion.
"Um, usually I try a skin sample before I start using something new," Anzu said, but one of the women shushed her.
"Come on ladies, come on," Ujin said impatiently, "I can't wait to get started."
Anzu might have made some remark, but her tense and fears were slowly sliding away as the purple stuff was washed off, and a lotion was applied soothingly to her face. She began to drift in and out of sleep, as Ujin waved the ladies away, and began to rub a foundation onto her cheekbones, and then took several brushes to her cheeks, then began to do her eyes. She panicked a little when he brought an eyelash curler up to her face, and started to use it, but immediately relaxed when he took it away.
He put his hands before her eyes, and whispered, "There."
She looked at herself as he pulled his hands away, clapping them together excitedly.
"I, I, I don't really know what to say," she stuttered.
"Say it's marvelous, say it's beautiful, just say something," Ujin pleaded.
"I love it," she whispered.
"Oh, Anzu," Mai squealed, "You look great!"
"I do?"
"Of course you do," Ujin snapped.
"Wow Anzu," Rena sighed, "You look so good!"
Anzu was both bewildered and amazed. Her eyes were done in soft pinks and violets, and her cheeks were rosy and pink. Her eyes looked big and sultry, and her lips were full and cherry colored, "I look like a fairy princess."
"No," Ujin said, "Like a prima donna ballerina, with grace and beauty. But your hair, we have to style it." Again the two women appeared, carrying combs and different gels and sprays. Immediately one pushed her chair around and back to the sink, and began to wet her hair down.
"Watch her face!" Ujin warned, "I don't want that make-up smudged!"
One of the women grabbed a bottle and squirted something into her hand and rubbed it through her hair.
"There now," Ujin smiled, "Doesn't that feel good?"
Anzu looked up at him dreamily, "Um-hmm."
"Come on, dear," Ujin took Rena's hand and led her to a seat. "You're getting the full job aren't you?"
"Yes," Rena said confidently.
"There now, that's what Ujin likes to hear," he laughed. "And what do you do, was it Renee?"
"Rena, and I'm an archaeologist," she said.
"Oh, how fun," Ujin exclaimed, "What do you do?"
"Right now I'm on an excavation in Egypt, and I've given a couple lectures. A couple," she emphasized.
"How exciting," he clapped, "So, we should definitely go with sexy and modern, instead of light and fluffy."
"Sounds fine with me."
Ujin snapped his fingers and one of the women handed her a glass of white wine to sip on while they worked. Ujin addressed Mai, "Now Mai, love, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait if you want me to work on you, if not, there's always Musume who's open. In fact we were in the same school together and I completely trust her."
Mai looked hesitantly, playing with a long strand of hair, uneasy as to her decision. "All right," she finally succeeded, "But you have to be in the same room, Ujin, there's no one else I can trust."
"Of course, of course," Ujin patted her hand, "We all know what it's like to be experiencing a new stylist." Several minutes later, a woman walked up to them, with dark hair equivalent to Mai's in length, wearing a thin black dress.
"You must be Ujin's devoted client, Kujaku Mai. I'm so honored to be you stylist," she smiled, and led Mai by the hand to the final chair in their row. Immediately, she pulled Mai's head over the sink and began to wash her hair, while Ujin did the same to Rena.
"Now, Rena my dear, let me tell what I'm thinking we should do," he said, "First, once we get your hair clean and you all nice and relaxed, your hair just needs to go. You have too much, and long, unkempt hair isn't as fashionable as it once was."
"You're not touching my hair with any pair of scissors," she said simply.
"But Rena, come on now, it would look fabulous," Ujin insisted.
"My long hair is who I am, and you are not cutting it," she replied flatly.
"Rena," he said, spinning her around to face the mirror, wet, soapy hair and all, "You just take a good look at yourself while I tell you what Ujin sees, and tell me if you see the same."
"Fine," she said.
"What I see is one of the most beautiful, interesting young women who have come by my way. Except if you look hard enough, you can see that this woman is holding something so unbearable, so very close to her heart. Her eyes have lost their luster, and her skin is pale. This is a woman who faces problems every day, and doesn't really know how to change them. Now, what Ujin can make you won't fix your problems, but it'll make you feel just a little bit more special than you're thinking you are. So, who do you want to be?"
She looked at herself, soap dripping onto the plastic covering from her hair, and looked at the depressed little mouse she was making herself as of two days ago.
"Ujin, do you're stuff," she said assuredly.
"Excellent," he turned her back to the sink and rinsed the soap from her hair, and dried it with a warm towel. She didn't even flinch when he picked up a pair of scissors and a comb, and immediately started to cut off her hair just below her shoulders. Then, he began to comb through it, cutting it in long layers, and then took a round brush and blow dryer and began to curl her bangs, and lift the layers to frame her face.
She took another glass of wine as Ujin began to apply moisturizers to her skin, then washed them off, and began to apply a tan foundation.
"That's not my complexion color," she said.
"It was, you can tell," Ujin said, "And this will help bring it out again."
She said nothing, but lifted her wine to her lips, and let Ujin finish the foundation, and start on the rest of her face.
But the time he finished her eyes, she was a little tipsy from wine, and had to have one of the women holding her steady as Ujin applied her blush, and spent another ten minutes on her lips.
"Now, I'm going to go put the finishing touches in Anzu's hair, but I'll be right back," he said, patting her shoulder assuredly, "Until then, keep your eyes nice and shut, I'm thinking on adding to them."
He walked up to Anzu's chair, and pulled her hair up in a bun, discreetly trimming away a few spare wisps, and pulling her hair into a messy bun.
"There now, are you a dancer or what?" he grinned that boyish smile again.
"I look like Tinkerbell," Anzu said. And truth to tell, she did.
"Nonsense, you look like you just came from Paris with your dancing troupe," Ujin exclaimed, moving back to Rena.
"Really? Merci, merci!" Anzu said.
"And now, Rena, one of my greatest works yet," he said, taking an eye brush and specking the inner corners of her eyes with white, "Open your eyes."
"That's not me," she said, and frankly, she couldn't even recognize herself. Her hair was shorter, of course, and framed her face. Her eyes were done is several shades of brown except for the white specks in the corners, and her cheeks looked rosy and glowing; her lips were done in a deep Spanish red, lined in an even darker crimson.
"Saucy, sexy, yet sophisticated," Ujin whispered, "Now do you have any ID?"
She fuddled through her purse and brought out her passport, and Ujin held it up in the mirror, "Now, which of these women do you want to be?" One, with long hair, eyes that held sad secrets and this one that held mystique and striking appeal.
"I'll take everything you used on me today," she said, looking for Seto's credit card, "And another appointment in four weeks."
And for once, she didn't worry about whether or not she was going to live to keep it.
Mai came out twenty minutes later, with fresh make up, which was basically different shades of what she had already been wearing, but she did have her hair much wavier, and more chic than her traditional windblown carelessness.
Mai snapped up Seto's credit card in her hands, "Now, he doesn't really need this, does he?"
"I've never seen him use it," Rena said.
Mai squealed and handed it to the clerk, who swiped and brought the total up to over thirty-seven thousand fifty yen, the equivalent of over three hundred dollars.
+~+~+~+~
When they finally pulled back up to the Game Shop, it was eight at night, and Anzu had to sit in the front from all the bags that took up the backseat, and still more were in the trunk.
"Thanks so much, guys," Rena laughed, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, that was the best," Anzu said, "And thanks for buying everything, Rena."
"Well what's the point in having a rich man's money if I'm not going to spend it?" she smiled.
"We have got to do that again," Mai cried, "Now come on, let's get the guys to carry all these bags in, my whole body is sore from walking."
"I'm fine with that," Rena sighed, getting out of the car, "I can't wait to crash at home."
"I wonder, will we have time to change on the plane?" Mai asked, "I want to wear one of my new outfits."
Rena looked at her incredulously, "Mai, sometimes I wonder if you buy clothes that you never wear."
"That's because they're out of fashion before I get the chance to even wear them," she said simply.
"I'm so raiding your closet next time I visit you," Anzu said.
"Hey girls!" Yuugi called, running out to meet them, "We've been waiting up for-whoa!" He looked them over completely, they were all wearing different outfits, and each designed to match their particular new facial. "You guys are who I think you are, right? I mean, we don't usually get customers this late."
"Of course it's us, Yuugi," Anzu giggled, laying a hand on his shoulder, "Who else would it be?"
"Well, you all look gorgeous," he said, "And for once, it isn't a biased opinion."
"Duh," Mai said, "I mean, I always look gorgeous." She caught the looks Anzu and Rena gave her, "And of course you ladies are too when you want to be."
"Mai!" Jounochi cried, running down to them, grabbing Mai and spinning her in the air, "You look great!"
"Of course I do, you silly boy," she said, "But look at them, too."
Jounochi turned to Anzu and Rena and his eyes rolled in his head, "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing? Anzu with make up on, and Rena's hair's short? I've gotta be dreaming!"
Anzu pinched him, "Well now we know you're awake!"
Mai pinched him too, but a little more gently, "Now that you're done ogling Jou, be a gentleman and get our bags out of Rena's car."
"Except mine," Rena added.
"Well, which are which?" Jou asked, rubbing his head in confusion.
"The one's in the back are mostly mine," Mai said walking over, "Except these five, those are Anzu's. And the rest of hers are in the trunk, except for these, those you leave in there."
"Uh, sure," Jou said.
Anzu went inside to get more hands to carry things in, while Jou tried not to stumble under his load.
"Do you want to come in?" Yuugi asked Rena.
"No, I'm just going to wait until things are cleared out, then I'm going to head home."
"All right, just to let you know, Seto called about an hour ago, just wanted to know where you were," he added.
"And you told him. . ."
"Any mall within a thirty mile radius."
"Thanks," Rena smiled, watching Honda, Jou, and even Yami carry the rest of the bags inside, "Well, I'd better be going."
"See you tomorrow," Yuugi said.
"Same," Rena called, jumping back in her car, and driving out.
+~+~+~+~
Seto jumped up as he heard her come in, "Where have you-holy shit."
"You know, I've gotten a lot of those kinds of remarks today," Rena smiled. "So, how was your day?"
He ignored her, "What did you do to yourself, and more importantly, what did you do with my credit cards?"
"They went to a good cause, my personal happiness," she laughed.
"How much?"
"Did we spend? Gosh, I really don't know. A lot," she guessed.
"And just to whack your hair off," he twirled it in his fingers.
"I like it," she said, "It's very sexy."
"Sexy, huh?" he asked, "I liked it the other way."
"Well, I didn't, so I changed it," she shot back, "And I think it's fantastic! You should have seen the kind of looks we got in the stores!"
"Looks, huh?" he said, moving into another room, "Looks that ask you, 'How much?'"
"Are you jealous?" she asked, an amused smile playing at her lips, "Or protective?"
"The closest you could get would be practical, but if you want to assume the latter, I'll let you," he sighed, pouring himself a drink.
"You don't need that," she said, taking the glass away.
"I need it more than you think I do," he said bitterly, grabbing it and swallowing it down.
"Then you don't need more," she said, picking up the bottle and dropping it on the floor. It shattered, spreading liquor and glass across the floor.
"What the hell was that for?" he asked.
"For being such an asshole when I tried to be nice to you, maybe even impress you, now that I'm starting to feel whole again," she said, tears forming at the edge of her eyes, "I'm going to bed."
She turned on her heel, and walked up the stairs to see Mokuba, hiding behind a railing.
"Don't be mad at him, Rena," he pleaded, "He just didn't understand. You're beautiful."
"Thanks Mokuba," she pressed her lips to his cheek, "That means a lot."
+~+~+~+~
He watched her turn up the stairs, and threw his glass against the wall. Truth to tell, he didn't really understand why he was so angry. And yet, he did. She came home looking happier than he had seen her in weeks, and he felt himself being strongly attracted to that happiness, moreover, to her. And that still bothered him. He liked her, sure he liked her, but had never felt the physical want to kiss those pouting, red lips, and hold her as close to him as good taste would allow, and maybe even further.
And then another feeling boiled up inside him, guilt. He went upstairs.
+~+~+~+~
He opened the door softly; she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, brushing her hair.
"What do you want?" she asked, "Spite me some more?"
"If it's what you want," he shoved his hands in his pockets, "But no, I came to apologize."
"I didn't think you knew the meaning of the word."
"Rena," he said, sitting next to her.
"Seto," she mocked his tone.
"You seem different," he said.
"I guess I do," she mused, "But yet I don't. I got my hair done nicely, and a facial. Then bought some clothes, and yet it's such a simple act of femininity. It's something I haven't done in a while."
"Well, you're entitled to it."
"But it's weird, you know?" she asked, all hints of anger in her voice gone, "I've been just so out of it, so messed up, depressed is the best word. But today, with Anzu and Mai, I really just felt like, a, a girl."
"Dare you not say," Seto feigned surprise.
She glared at him, but it was weak, "People have been so used to thinking of me as a total loner, but I'm not. I used to be like this a lot."
"I believe the word is normal."
"Yes, and it's so strange. Today, well, I don't know. I wasn't thinking about Ryou, and I wasn't thinking about the Daughter of Set, I wasn't even thinking about Megami. I was okay, and yet, just this morning I had been to the scene of an appalling murder," she ran a hand through her hair.
"I'm glad you're normal for now," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I've done such a one eighty that no one's ever going to know what I'm really like," she smiled, lying up against him.
"Hey, I know what you're like," he stroked his face against hers.
"What do you think I'm like?"
"Well, you are attractive, sexy in laymen's terms, and you're smart, cynical at times, and have an unpredictability that probably stems from having two souls sharing the same body, you can be hotheaded, persistent, and yes, stubborn," he traced his lips down her neck.
"Ma'at was kind when she stuck us together," Rena laughed.
Seto pulled her face to his, "Shut up."
She reached a hand around his neck; as he bent down to kiss her. His hands tightened around her waist, turning her onto his lap, and she parted her lips for him. She grabbed his face with her hands, each taking delight in the kiss, and slowly he fell back onto the bed.
She pulled out first this time, breathing heavily, lying on top of his chest.
"Damn boy," she breathed, "We have to do that again."
"Fine with me," he said, putting his lips back on hers.
She pulled out though, "Seto, come on now. This is a little heavy."
"Yeah," he admitted, getting up, "So you going to bed?"
"Duh."
He tugged his coat off and flopped onto her bed, "I'm staying here for the night."
"Whatever," she cuddled up against him.
"Mmm, I like you here," he said, "Where I can make sure you don't go whacking off your hair."
"Say one more word about it and I kill you."
They went on bickering slightly for another hour before both admitted defeat and fell asleep.
~ Hangyakusha no wa Deeto
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Yay, yay, yay! I like this chapter! Hey, did I take Seto OOC on this one? I can't decide! Whoo! I'm on a serious rush here. I love Ujin the Hairdresser! Five thousand points to anyone who can guess what I played his name from! (Hint: It's Japanese.) But yeah, all's I can say is click the button and review! I'll be seeing ya! And by the way, I definitely have a sequel lined up for this, plot and all! Celebration for me!
Randomness: Seto and Rena 4-Ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!! : )
Seto: You have no good reasons.
Me: Shut up, I'm not done. But oh well I forgot what I was going to say! So read on, and thanks for sticking with me, you all are my shining stars! Woohoo! (P.S. Sou desu ka = I see.)
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Konton no Millennia
Chapter Thirteen: Hangyakusha no wa Deeto.
By, Rena Campbelle
"Sir, you can't be leaving again!" the man protested.
"Now Inoue-san, I told you, it will only be for a short while, a week, possibly two. I've taken longer business trips before," Seto said, shading his voice.
"But you have just returned from one," the other man pouted.
"Nobu-san, this is important. And you have no right to be questioning my judgment, and if you are, I expect a handwritten retirement release on my desk by this evening. Do you understand?" Seto asked darkly.
"Yes sir," Nobu bowed and left silently.
"I will go g-get stock records f-for you, K-Kaiba-san," Inoue stuttered and left shortly after.
Seto turned back to his computer, smiling arrogantly, "Another fun day in the office."
+~+~+~+~
"Mai, that's my shirt!" Anzu exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going to steal it for the weekend," Mai said sweetly, as she stuffed it into her suitcase.
"Then I'm taking these," Anzu threatened, holding up a pair of designer heels.
"Wait!" Mai cried, "I haven't worn those yet!"
"Too late," Anzu replied with a giggle, setting them into her bag.
"Hey, have you ever worn red before Anzu?" Mai held up a slinky red tube top, "This would look great on you."
"Are you kidding? Yuugi and Jou wouldn't let me outside with that on!" she gasped.
"Then wear this over it, besides we're going to a country where it's always hot anyway," Mai sighed, tossing her the tube top and a small white blouse to wear over it.
"This isn't a vacation, Mai," she said skeptically, "This is serious."
"Listen, if you all want to sit around, moping and depressed, about the end of the world, that's fine by me. Look what it's done to Rena. I've seen turned off televisions that are less vacant than she is, and it's breaking my heart. The first thing I'm going to do is of course, shopping, and I'm forcing you two to go with me," she dropped another bikini in her bag, "Do you think Rena can get us Kaiba's credit card?"
"Mai!"
"It's just a thought," she huffed, "Besides, I'm broke for right now. I spent the last of my money on clothes yesterday, and my endorsement doesn't come in until next week."
"Endorsement?" Anzu asked, as Mai snatched up the sneakers she was about to put in her bag.
"Yes, endorsement, and what are you thinking putting these smelly old things in there?" she handed her one of her own pairs, "Take these. God, how long have you had these?"
"Since Battle City," she said.
"Then keep the ones I gave you, and I'll throw these out," she opened the bedroom door and tossed her shoes down the hallway.
"Ow! Hey watch it!" Honda shouted.
"Sorry," Mai called sunnily.
"What's this?" Anzu asked, picking up a perfume bottle.
"Just some of my smell-good stuff, it's Eau de Citron, she gave it a squeeze.
"Ack!" Anzu coughed, "I got perfume up my nose!"
+~+~+~+~
Jounochi, Honda, and Yuugi were all sitting down stairs when they heard Anzu shout, "That stuff is strong!" To which they heard Mai retort, "You're not supposed to inhale it!" Several thumps later, they heard Anzu say something, and then another thump, and Anzu came running down the stairs her nose red, presumably from rubbing it.
"I don't want to know what you were doing," Yuugi said, "So don't tell me!"
Jounochi and Honda grinned at each other, as the two girls turned on their heel and went back upstairs.
"Chaos in the House of Motou?" Yami asked, pulling up a chair.
"Those two have been going at it since seven this morning," Jounochi laughed.
"Sou desu ka, I chose a good time to leave this morning," Yami smiled.
"More like escape," Honda said. "All our stuff's in the same bedroom, and they've been in there all morning."
"Why don't you tell them to get out?" Yami asked simply.
"If it were that easy," Yuugi said, "But by all means, please, go ahead and try."
"I shall," Yami trudged up the stairs. Things were silent for a while as Yami knocked on the door, and opened it softly.
"GOT OUT OF HERE YOU PERVERT!" the two females shouted, chasing him out behind a barrage of pillows, shoes, and women's clothing.
"Dear Hathor," he cried, jumping down the stairs, "What force is that?"
"The force of the fashion-conscious female," Jounochi said wisely.
"Oooohh," Honda cracked.
"Watch it," Jounochi warned.
"Hey you two, don't start things up down here, too," Yuugi said.
"Things are awfully tense here, aren't they?" Sugoroku chuckled from the counter.
"I think I'll go for another walk," Yami said, edging towards the door, "This is a little too much noise."
"You think you're leaving me here alone?" Yuugi asked, grabbing Yami's shoulder.
"Well, aibou," he grinned sheepishly.
+~+~+~+~
Rena sat on the couch, thumbing through a book idly, while Mokuba sat on the floor, looking haphazardly at a book of his own. All three of them had their bags packed, though Seto's had been packed for him by Regius, and were waiting patiently on the landing. The doorbell rang, and hesitantly, she marked her place in the book and went to the door. Two grim-faced keisatsu stood there on the porch as she opened the door.
One of them, who looked about Andre's age, approached, and handed her his business card, "I'm Officer Kitsuo, and this is my senior, Captain Iwamura."
The captain handed her his business card as well, and asked sternly, "Is Kaiba Seto here?"
"No, he's at work," she responded, backing away from the entry to let them in, "Why?"
"We have some strange news for him."
"He's not being arrested is he?" she said lightly.
"No," Captain Iwamura smiled, "Are you his associate Rena Campbelle? The one who received the phone call?"
"Phone call, you mean, this isn't about. . .?"
"Yes, and we'd like to ask you a few questions," Captain Iwamura said.
"Then please come in," she smiled weakly. The two men bowed and walked in, removing their shoes at the door. She escorted them into the living room where Mokuba was sitting over his neglected homework. Out of the corner of her eye, she notice Kitsuo shuffle, almost uncomfortably. Could he have been nervous with Mokuba sitting there?
Rena introduced them, "Mokuba, this is Captain Iwamura and Officer Kitsuo. Captain, Officer, this is Kaiba Mokuba."
"Hello," Mokuba said carefully. She offered them seats, and took one for herself on the couch. Mokuba scrambled up next to her, his face portraying confusion perfectly.
Captain Iwamura took out a voice recorder, "Do you mind?"
"No," Rena said. Her hands were already a little clammy and starting to sweat. Whatever these men had to say, it wasn't good.
Captain Iwamura watched the girl pale slightly. She seemed all right, just rattled, "All right Campbelle-san, is it true you work for Kaiba Seto?"
"Yes, I'm employed as a personal consultant," she had practiced this, "Kaiba-san has been considering sponsorship in the archaeological excavation for IECI."
"What is the IECI?" Iwamura asked.
"An archaeological excavation in Egypt. The IECI is a collaboration of foreign countries in search of a temple," she replied.
"Sou desu ka," he had read a little bit about Rena Campbelle from her academic files, but her police record was fairly short. Parking tickets basically, and he had been hoping she would give him a little more information on the dig in Egypt. But instead he said, "To the matter on hand, is it true you received a threatening phone call on October 26th?"
"Yes," she blotted her sweaty palms on her pants, "Captain, what's going on?"
"We were able to trace, moreover, Kaiba-san was able to trace the call, and asked us to file a report on it. We were able to link the call back to Tomoe Katsuke and Tatsuya Seiji. But they've been missing for about three days, no trace to where they had went at all, and we've been working on finding them nonstop. It was as if they had disappeared, until this morning."
"Where are they?" she asked, unconsciously wrapping an arm around Mokuba's shoulder.
"We found them in an old warehouse dead, no, murdered," Iwamura said gravely.
"How?" she saw Kitsuo look at Mokuba uneasily. This wasn't going to be pleasant.
Never letting her eyes drift onto the boy, she said, "Mokuba, phone your brother, tell him what's going on."
"We tried to get a hold of him, in fact, we went to his office first, but he had left already. We were hoping he'd be here," Kitsuo said.
Mokuba eased off of the couch and into another room, and Rena said quietly, "You're welcome to stay until he gets here."
"Thank you, we probably will. But these men, we definitely think they're Tomoe Katsuke and Tatsuya Seiji. They were carrying identification, but we'll still do a fingerprint test," Iwamura said.
"How can you 'think' that you know who they are?" Rena asked.
"It's impossible to identify the bodies."
A hard lump pressed at her stomach, "What do you mean by that?"
"The bodies were in horrible condition. They had been beaten to death. I've been a keisatsu probably longer than you've been alive, and this is the worst thing I've ever seen. Nothing like this has ever been done in all of Japan. Every bone broken and rebroken. Contusions on top of more contusions, and autopsy's will probably reveal ruptured organs. Both their skulls smashed and chest caved in."
"That's impossible," she said, "The chest and skull are the closest things the human body has to armor plating! Maybe if a car ran head on into it at high speeds, that might happen, but just beaten?"
"The killer must have been very strong," Kitsuo reasoned.
"No, that's impossible, it's just impossible," Rena sighed. She felt like she needed to throw up.
"I don't know how, but they were shattered, not broken, fractured, or splintered; shattered, just like it was glass," Iwamura said, stroking his stubble of beard.
She gripped the arm of the chair until she thought her knuckles were going to break, but she didn't feel the pain, "Why are you here?"
Kitsuo squirmed in his seat as Iwamura continued, "There are Egyptian markings on the forehead of one. They were either burned or carved there by something. We can't make sense of it. We found out that they were hieroglyphics, but not the same, a kind of variation."
"Vizierglyphs?" she supplied.
"I think that's what they were called. But anyway, I want you to identify them."
"On the man's head?" she cried.
"No, no, no. The same message was inscribed into one of the walls, very large, and we wanted to see if you could come and make sense of it," Iwamura asked politely.
"Make sense of what?" asked Seto from the doorway, Mokuba beside him.
"Seto, oh thank God," Rena sighed, standing wobbly. She crossed over to him slowly, "They found them."
"What?" Seto asked, reaching an arm out to support her. He looked at the police officers warily, and Officer Kitsuo began to relay the story back to him.
"She certainly won't," he growled, when Kitsuo was done, "She'll do no such thing!"
"She'll decide for herself, thank you," Rena said exasperated.
"No way you're going," he said stubbornly.
"I have to," she turned to the keisatsu, "May I have a private word with Kaiba-san?"
"Of course," Iwamura said, leading his junior officer and himself into another room.
She looked at him, "It's going to be a message to me."
He looked away from her gaze as she continued, "And it's going to be from the Daughter of Set. Who else could it be? I have to go and translate it whatever it says."
He brought his face closer to hers and whispered, "All right, but you don't tell them what it means."
"What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"Once you've got the message figured out, you're going to tell the keisatsu that you can't make it out," he replied.
"Why?" she cried.
"Because if it is a warning, then the keisatsu are going to need a little background information. And we're going to have to tell them what the hell is going on, and won't that sound believable? We'll be carted off to the nearest asylum in straightjackets, not to mention everyone we tell outside our circle the Daughter of Set is going to pick off. Look what happened to Tomoe and Tatsuya."
"You're right, you're right," she admitted, waving her hand, "I wasn't thinking."
"I'm right, huh? Does that make three? This calls for a celebration," he brushed his lips softly over hers as the keisatsu walked in again.
"Are you ready to go?" Kitsuo asked.
"Yeah," she looked at Seto, "Stay here and watch Mokuba. He shouldn't be by himself, not with a killer on the prowl."
He looked at her hesitantly, "I don't know."
Kitsuo spoke up, "This isn't something a child should see, a grown adult has no business seeing it."
He looked at her knowingly, and she winked at him, then grabbed her leather coat and headed out to the station wagon the police had come in, as Kitsuo took down the snap-off siren and started the engine.
+~+~+~+~
There was yellow tape stretched all the way around the warehouse perimeter as they drove up. She got out unsteadily, and passed several officers who looked sick; some were deathly pallid.
She walked in slowly, and what she saw astounded her.
Blood had been spattered and smeared on the walls, almost artistically, except for the far wall. It had pooled on the floor, lots of it, so much that it didn't seem real, like a cheap horror film.
Several plastic runners were strewn from several ends of the building's floor for investigators and technicians so that they wouldn't get their shoes sticky. Iwamura walked up behind her and laid his hand on her shoulder, "Whoever did this was crazy, a psychopath; a sane person would not have slaughtered with such savage, blood-spraying glee."
Another officer came up to Iwamura and said in a deep voice, "Captain, the place has been vacuumed, we've finished the photographs except for the message, and tried to lift as many prints as we could. We're moving the victims out."
"Anything special, Waguri?" Iwamura asked. Rena guessed Waguri was a forensic pathologist, although he was badly shaken for someone who should have been accustomed to scenes of violent death.
"It's not pretty, the victim's aren't looking good," he fuddled with his tie.
Rena glared at him, "Don't mince words just because I'm here, officer. I've heard as much as anybody."
Waguri said, "Looks like nearly every bone in the body was broken at least once. On contusion atop another, hundreds, no way to tell how many. I'm positive the autopsy will show organs that have been ruptured, and severe damage to the kidneys." He glanced uneasily at Rena, still unsure of whether or not to go on. She tried to maintain a bland expression of professional interest that she hoped didn't look as sick and phony as it felt.
Waguri continued: "Crushed skull. Teeth broken loose. One eye was jarred out of its socket."
Rena pointed to a chunk of heavy black rock on the floor, "The murder weapon?"
"We don't think so," Iwamura said.
"It was in this guy's hand," Waguri explained, "Had to pry it out of his fingers. He was trying to defend himself." Staring at the opaque body bag, they all fell into a mutual silence. The ceaseless wail of police sirens was simultaneously a mundane and strange sound-like the screech of rusty doors sliding open in a dream to reveal a mysterious and alternate vista.
The coroner's men returned with a wheeled stretcher, and lifted the body up onto it, and wheeled it away, one wheel clattering erratically like a supermarket cart: a cold, clattering noise.
Iwamura led her down the runners to the end of the warehouse, where a great, foreign message was inscribed on the walls, in a language she knew all too well.
In spite of her warm sweater and lined coat, she was cold. Freezing. Her hands were so white they looked dead, and even though there were vents set up around the room to keep the cold away, she knew this chill came from within.
"Can you read this?" Iwamura asked.
And she could, her eyes skimmed over the glyphs, transliterating them, then translating, until in perfect English she said in her mind, "The playing field is set and clean, let the games begin."
"Excuse me, Campbelle-san, can you read this?" Iwamura pressed.
"No," she replied quickly, "I'm sorry." Mentally, she kicked herself, "Really smooth, dear."
"Are you sure, perhaps you need more time," Iwamura said.
"No," she said softly, "I can't read this." Tears were dotting her eyes, and Iwamura supposed them to be from frustration. Really, they were tears of hatred, revulsion at the woman who did this.
"It's all right," Iwamura said, as warmly as he could, "You tried. I'm sorry to have to bring you here."
"I'd like to go home," she said, her voice hardening.
"Yes, Kitsuo will take you home," he motioned for the young officer. He took her home in a patrol car, driving wordlessly. She pressed her head against the cold glass of the window, staring hard at the cloudy sky. It was the beginning of November, and it was all so different, so different when she had arrived in late September. She was emotionally unstable, as her soul slowly numbed to depression. She had thought that once the Rapier was theirs, the tables would turn in their favor. But instead, it got worse. One of her friends might die, they might all die. She might die.
She tried to remember when her life had started its cataclysmic downfall. The night her parents died, she decided, after that, things only got worse. She had herself fooled there for a while, thinking she had recovered in Egypt, with making new friends. But it was a guise, a clever guise, but nonetheless a pretense to what was really happening. Megami was awakening in her mind, and they were already sharing the same body, a physical effort for her to sustain, as well mental. And then she met Seto, Isis help her, she really did love him. Her heart felt like it was slowly being cut into pieces, each precious memory of her life falling further and further away. Was she even living still? She didn't wish for death, no, but sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between whether she was even breathing or not. Sometimes she felt like her head was going to burst, with two people's thoughts in there, sometimes she felt trapped by Megami's power. And then there a few blessed days where she could escape her prison for a moment and be who she truly thought herself to be with her friends, with Seto.
But when Ma'at had shown her heart to her, she had pointed out only that she loved her friends, only that she had been sad once. She never said anything about her melancholy now.
Maybe you're being a little too judgmental of Ra's Nostrils, Megami whispered.
At least tell me when you invade my half of our soul, Rena grumbled.
Sorry, but really now, I'm sure Ma'at had a reason to show you the good points in your life. Maybe so you wouldn't be the way you are now? she supplied.
Go to sleep, Rena said sourly.
It's a good idea, but first you have to promise me you won't pull any crazy stunts until tomorrow.
Won't you be the first to know? Rena asked.
True, Megami mused, But I'm not taking any chances.
I promise, she said limply, and returned to staring out the window.
Kitsuo broke her reverie shortly after, "Excuse me, Campbelle-san, we're here."
"Oh, thank you, Officer Kitsuo, good luck on the case," she said, pushing open the door and crossing onto the porch and through the foyer.
"Seto, Rena's home!" Mokuba called.
"Thank God," Seto said, coming to greet her in the doorway. He stopped short though, noticing how pale and tired she looked. Her eyes were dull and blanch, and her complexion was no better.
A cold sweat started to break around her hairline, "I'm sorry Seto, but I think I'm going to be sick." She ran upstairs for the bathroom, leaving Mokuba and Seto alone.
"I'm worried, oniichan," Mokuba said to his brother.
"About what?" Seto asked.
"Rena, she's not looking good," Mokuba confessed, "I mean, haven't you noticed? Do you care?"
"Sure I care, Rena's a good friend of ours," he said, "But now that you mention it, she does look sick."
"You should go talk to her," Mokuba looked at him.
Seto watched him; Mokuba had an awfully intense glare for an eleven year- old, and even though he could match and beat it, the fact it was even developing was impressive. The company would pass down to good hands. "Yeah, I'll talk to her, but maybe when she comes down."
"That's a good idea," Mokuba said, quite seriously.
Yes, the company would go to good hands.
Meanwhile, Rena was hunched over the toilet, vomiting violently. It wasn't the sight of the warehouse that had thrown her into sudden sickness. One drop of blood, or one body would have caused a more violent reaction of disgust. It was the message, "The playing field is set and clean, let the games begin." Those two men didn't deserve their death, or maybe they did, these men had planned to take the lives of almost fifty people, but life in prison, even capital punishment seemed better than just. . . slaughter. The thought sent her reeling back to the bowl.
Ryou was just another pawn to her, just a way to lure her back into Egypt. So, if according to the Black Mistress that the field was clean did it also mean Ryou had been taken out of the picture as well? Oh, Anpu (Anubis) be kind.
Regius stepped into the doorway as she began to gag and choke once more.
"Oh, goodness, Miss Campbelle, I'm sorry," he apologized, "I just came up here to see if you wanted lunch."
She began to throw up again, shaking her head violently, trying to clear the image of food from her head.
"Right then," Regius said, "I'll go downstairs to fetch the master's, ahem, well, and I must be going." He walked out quickly.
She grasped the sides of the toilet for support as she finished her gagging fit. Coughing fiercely, she lifted herself up to the sink and tried to spit out the rest of the bile that was in her mouth. Her throat was ragged, sore, and dry, and she looked like a total wreck. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on a new outfit, and walked downstairs.
Seto came up to stop her, and she reached in his pocket and grabbed his wallet, kissed him softly on the cheek, then brushed past him and out to her car, all without a word.
He stood there, quite unsure of what he was missing, but he was sure it was important.
Mokuba came up to him, and asked in an anticipated voice, "Did you talk to her?"
"No, she took my wallet, and left, Mokuba," he said, aggravation hinting at his voice, and turned to his office. He slammed the door behind him, and picked up his phone, let it ring, and then Yuugi picked up, "Turtle Game Shop, may I help you?"
"Yuugi, Seto," he introduced himself curtly, "Rena's coming your way, and she's in a bizarre mood, just to let you know," and with that, he hung up, and slouched back into his chair.
She drove recklessly, she had to admit, but hey, she was used to virtually no speed limit. Raised in Montana, moving to New York, Egypt, and now Japan.
"Stop thinking," she told herself, absentmindedly turning on the radio. J- Pop blared out of the speakers, except it was J-Pop gone horribly wrong. Grumbling she punched it off, and drove the rest of the way in silence, pocketing Seto's wallet in her coat.
Unfortunately, silence was not something she liked a great deal, so she put in a CD, and began to relax as rock began to coast out smoothly. Then a song began to play and it was like when you've heard a song forever, and you know it by heart, and when it starts to play, it has suddenly become foreign to you, and you understand it again as the singer sings not to a microphone or audience, but to you, and the song is never the same again.
"Can't change this feeling I'm way out of touch, can't change this meaning, when it means too much.
Never been so lonely, never felt so good.
I can't be the only one misunderstood,
I remind myself of somebody else.
Feeling like I'm chasing, like I'm facing myself alone.
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head; I want some of my own.
I want some of my own; I want some of my own.
Can you see me up here; would you bring me back down?
Cause I've been living to see my fears as they fall to the ground.
I remind myself of somebody else
Feeling like I'm chasing, like I'm facing myself alone.
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head; I want some of my own.
I want some of my own; I want some of my own
Am I hiding behind my doubts?
Are they hiding behind me?
Closer to finding out it doesn't mean anything.
I remind myself of somebody else now.
Feeling like I'm chasing, like I'm facing myself alone.
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head; I want some of my own.
I want some of my own; I want some of my own."
+~+~+~+~
She came in, and at first, Yuugi couldn't recognize her. Rena was pale, and looked ill. She gave him a faint smile as she walked in.
"Are you okay?" he asked, leading her to a seat.
"As soon as I go shopping," she said with a sigh.
"That was an awfully heavy sigh, want to talk?" he asked.
"No, I want to spend thousands of yen."
Yuugi chuckled, "Yeah, Seto called and warned us Hurricane Rena was coming."
"Well, she's here," she smiled.
Mai came downstairs, holding a black skirt, above Anzu's head, and asked Yuugi, "Who would look better in this?" She gave him a glare that told him it better be her.
But Yuugi was too loyal to Anzu to pay mind, "Anzu, of course." Anzu smiled at him and blushed, snatching the skirt from Mai.
"Well, if that wasn't the most biased opinion I have ever heard," she harrumphed.
"You're completely right," Yuugi admitted.
"I should never have asked you. Rena, who looks better in this?" she asked.
"I would," she replied cynically.
"Actually, you might be right," Mai said, grabbing the skirt from Anzu as she turned to go up the stairs. She held it up to Rena's waist, and thought, "Well, it'd be shorter on you, which is very sexy. But you definitely-Eee God!" Mai cried as she finally looked Rena over.
"Is it that bad?" Rena joked.
"No! You look sick!" she said bluntly.
"Well, I don't feel well," Rena pointed out.
"No, I mean sick," she drew a hand through Rena's hair, "We need to get you in to a hairdresser, a makeover, everything, new wardrobe, yipe! But don't worry, once we're done, you'll be as pretty as when I first met you."
"She's still pretty," Anzu said. Rena gave her a thankful look.
"Anzu, no offense, but this girl is walking death," Mai snapped.
"She doesn't look that bad," Jounochi said, coming in from the kitchen.
"You're no help," she muttered, grabbing Rena's arm, "Let's go. We'll take your car."
"Does Rena get a say in it?" Anzu asked.
"No, and you're coming too," she said, grabbing Anzu with her free hand, and lugging the two outside.
"I don't think so, Mai," Rena laughed, as she pushed Mai out of the driver's seat, "This is my baby, I drive, and besides," she flashed Seto's wallet at them, "I've got the goods!"
Mai grabbed the wallet and thumbed through it, "Oh my Kami-sama! The lowest bill he has in here is ten thousand yen! Look at this!" She looked at Anzu's stunned expression and laughed, "See! I told you she could!"
"Could what?" Rena asked.
"That you could get Seto's wallet from him!" she laughed.
"Where to first?" Anzu asked.
"I know," Mai said, "We're going to my salon, and we're giving Rena the biggest makeover ever."
"We are?" Rena asked.
"Of course we are," Mai said pointedly, "We're going to get all this hair of yours whacked off."
"You are not touching my hair," Rena growled.
"Too late," Mai chirped, "And besides, you could use a new look. Turn up here."
The salon was expensive, by the look, the feel, and the people. The place was decorated in a dark crimson, the dressers were primped and very New Age looking with extravagant, even overstated hairstyles, and all were dressed in black finery.
"This is Ujin, my trusted stylist," Mai said exultantly, "No one touches my hair but this guy. This is Rena and Anzu," she said introducing them.
"I'm so glad to see you ladies," Ujin smiled boyishly, "Now what can I do for you?"
"Anything," Mai sighed, "These girls both need a completely new look."
"Of course," Ujin smiled again, giving Anzu his hand, "Now, what do you do, Anzu?"
"Well, I'm, uh, a dancer I guess," she muttered, slightly aback by the abrasiveness of the place.
"And so you must look like one," Ujin waved his hand boldly, "So first, a lady-like, trim, and maybe some highlights. . ."
"Are you kidding?" Anzu said appalled, "My mother would kill me!"
"Rebel, my dear," Ujin smiled, "Be proud of that raging fire inspired by music and dance! Embrace it, flirt with it, love it!"
Anzu looked at Rena, stunned, "Rena, stop me before I do something I'll regret."
"Regret?" Ujin asked puzzled.
"Anzu just wants a facial, maybe a nice manicure too. And a healthy massage," Mai interjected.
"Ah, I see," Ujin said, "Well then, dear Anzu, you've come to the right place. Let's see what we can do."
"Okay," Anzu said hesitantly.
"Let's start with a simple moisturizer," Ujin clapped his hands and two black dressed women appeared from nowhere, each armed with several bottles and cosmetic sponges. One started to rub purple goo on Anzu's face, and the other grabbed her hands and started massaging them with lotion.
"Um, usually I try a skin sample before I start using something new," Anzu said, but one of the women shushed her.
"Come on ladies, come on," Ujin said impatiently, "I can't wait to get started."
Anzu might have made some remark, but her tense and fears were slowly sliding away as the purple stuff was washed off, and a lotion was applied soothingly to her face. She began to drift in and out of sleep, as Ujin waved the ladies away, and began to rub a foundation onto her cheekbones, and then took several brushes to her cheeks, then began to do her eyes. She panicked a little when he brought an eyelash curler up to her face, and started to use it, but immediately relaxed when he took it away.
He put his hands before her eyes, and whispered, "There."
She looked at herself as he pulled his hands away, clapping them together excitedly.
"I, I, I don't really know what to say," she stuttered.
"Say it's marvelous, say it's beautiful, just say something," Ujin pleaded.
"I love it," she whispered.
"Oh, Anzu," Mai squealed, "You look great!"
"I do?"
"Of course you do," Ujin snapped.
"Wow Anzu," Rena sighed, "You look so good!"
Anzu was both bewildered and amazed. Her eyes were done in soft pinks and violets, and her cheeks were rosy and pink. Her eyes looked big and sultry, and her lips were full and cherry colored, "I look like a fairy princess."
"No," Ujin said, "Like a prima donna ballerina, with grace and beauty. But your hair, we have to style it." Again the two women appeared, carrying combs and different gels and sprays. Immediately one pushed her chair around and back to the sink, and began to wet her hair down.
"Watch her face!" Ujin warned, "I don't want that make-up smudged!"
One of the women grabbed a bottle and squirted something into her hand and rubbed it through her hair.
"There now," Ujin smiled, "Doesn't that feel good?"
Anzu looked up at him dreamily, "Um-hmm."
"Come on, dear," Ujin took Rena's hand and led her to a seat. "You're getting the full job aren't you?"
"Yes," Rena said confidently.
"There now, that's what Ujin likes to hear," he laughed. "And what do you do, was it Renee?"
"Rena, and I'm an archaeologist," she said.
"Oh, how fun," Ujin exclaimed, "What do you do?"
"Right now I'm on an excavation in Egypt, and I've given a couple lectures. A couple," she emphasized.
"How exciting," he clapped, "So, we should definitely go with sexy and modern, instead of light and fluffy."
"Sounds fine with me."
Ujin snapped his fingers and one of the women handed her a glass of white wine to sip on while they worked. Ujin addressed Mai, "Now Mai, love, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait if you want me to work on you, if not, there's always Musume who's open. In fact we were in the same school together and I completely trust her."
Mai looked hesitantly, playing with a long strand of hair, uneasy as to her decision. "All right," she finally succeeded, "But you have to be in the same room, Ujin, there's no one else I can trust."
"Of course, of course," Ujin patted her hand, "We all know what it's like to be experiencing a new stylist." Several minutes later, a woman walked up to them, with dark hair equivalent to Mai's in length, wearing a thin black dress.
"You must be Ujin's devoted client, Kujaku Mai. I'm so honored to be you stylist," she smiled, and led Mai by the hand to the final chair in their row. Immediately, she pulled Mai's head over the sink and began to wash her hair, while Ujin did the same to Rena.
"Now, Rena my dear, let me tell what I'm thinking we should do," he said, "First, once we get your hair clean and you all nice and relaxed, your hair just needs to go. You have too much, and long, unkempt hair isn't as fashionable as it once was."
"You're not touching my hair with any pair of scissors," she said simply.
"But Rena, come on now, it would look fabulous," Ujin insisted.
"My long hair is who I am, and you are not cutting it," she replied flatly.
"Rena," he said, spinning her around to face the mirror, wet, soapy hair and all, "You just take a good look at yourself while I tell you what Ujin sees, and tell me if you see the same."
"Fine," she said.
"What I see is one of the most beautiful, interesting young women who have come by my way. Except if you look hard enough, you can see that this woman is holding something so unbearable, so very close to her heart. Her eyes have lost their luster, and her skin is pale. This is a woman who faces problems every day, and doesn't really know how to change them. Now, what Ujin can make you won't fix your problems, but it'll make you feel just a little bit more special than you're thinking you are. So, who do you want to be?"
She looked at herself, soap dripping onto the plastic covering from her hair, and looked at the depressed little mouse she was making herself as of two days ago.
"Ujin, do you're stuff," she said assuredly.
"Excellent," he turned her back to the sink and rinsed the soap from her hair, and dried it with a warm towel. She didn't even flinch when he picked up a pair of scissors and a comb, and immediately started to cut off her hair just below her shoulders. Then, he began to comb through it, cutting it in long layers, and then took a round brush and blow dryer and began to curl her bangs, and lift the layers to frame her face.
She took another glass of wine as Ujin began to apply moisturizers to her skin, then washed them off, and began to apply a tan foundation.
"That's not my complexion color," she said.
"It was, you can tell," Ujin said, "And this will help bring it out again."
She said nothing, but lifted her wine to her lips, and let Ujin finish the foundation, and start on the rest of her face.
But the time he finished her eyes, she was a little tipsy from wine, and had to have one of the women holding her steady as Ujin applied her blush, and spent another ten minutes on her lips.
"Now, I'm going to go put the finishing touches in Anzu's hair, but I'll be right back," he said, patting her shoulder assuredly, "Until then, keep your eyes nice and shut, I'm thinking on adding to them."
He walked up to Anzu's chair, and pulled her hair up in a bun, discreetly trimming away a few spare wisps, and pulling her hair into a messy bun.
"There now, are you a dancer or what?" he grinned that boyish smile again.
"I look like Tinkerbell," Anzu said. And truth to tell, she did.
"Nonsense, you look like you just came from Paris with your dancing troupe," Ujin exclaimed, moving back to Rena.
"Really? Merci, merci!" Anzu said.
"And now, Rena, one of my greatest works yet," he said, taking an eye brush and specking the inner corners of her eyes with white, "Open your eyes."
"That's not me," she said, and frankly, she couldn't even recognize herself. Her hair was shorter, of course, and framed her face. Her eyes were done is several shades of brown except for the white specks in the corners, and her cheeks looked rosy and glowing; her lips were done in a deep Spanish red, lined in an even darker crimson.
"Saucy, sexy, yet sophisticated," Ujin whispered, "Now do you have any ID?"
She fuddled through her purse and brought out her passport, and Ujin held it up in the mirror, "Now, which of these women do you want to be?" One, with long hair, eyes that held sad secrets and this one that held mystique and striking appeal.
"I'll take everything you used on me today," she said, looking for Seto's credit card, "And another appointment in four weeks."
And for once, she didn't worry about whether or not she was going to live to keep it.
Mai came out twenty minutes later, with fresh make up, which was basically different shades of what she had already been wearing, but she did have her hair much wavier, and more chic than her traditional windblown carelessness.
Mai snapped up Seto's credit card in her hands, "Now, he doesn't really need this, does he?"
"I've never seen him use it," Rena said.
Mai squealed and handed it to the clerk, who swiped and brought the total up to over thirty-seven thousand fifty yen, the equivalent of over three hundred dollars.
+~+~+~+~
When they finally pulled back up to the Game Shop, it was eight at night, and Anzu had to sit in the front from all the bags that took up the backseat, and still more were in the trunk.
"Thanks so much, guys," Rena laughed, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, that was the best," Anzu said, "And thanks for buying everything, Rena."
"Well what's the point in having a rich man's money if I'm not going to spend it?" she smiled.
"We have got to do that again," Mai cried, "Now come on, let's get the guys to carry all these bags in, my whole body is sore from walking."
"I'm fine with that," Rena sighed, getting out of the car, "I can't wait to crash at home."
"I wonder, will we have time to change on the plane?" Mai asked, "I want to wear one of my new outfits."
Rena looked at her incredulously, "Mai, sometimes I wonder if you buy clothes that you never wear."
"That's because they're out of fashion before I get the chance to even wear them," she said simply.
"I'm so raiding your closet next time I visit you," Anzu said.
"Hey girls!" Yuugi called, running out to meet them, "We've been waiting up for-whoa!" He looked them over completely, they were all wearing different outfits, and each designed to match their particular new facial. "You guys are who I think you are, right? I mean, we don't usually get customers this late."
"Of course it's us, Yuugi," Anzu giggled, laying a hand on his shoulder, "Who else would it be?"
"Well, you all look gorgeous," he said, "And for once, it isn't a biased opinion."
"Duh," Mai said, "I mean, I always look gorgeous." She caught the looks Anzu and Rena gave her, "And of course you ladies are too when you want to be."
"Mai!" Jounochi cried, running down to them, grabbing Mai and spinning her in the air, "You look great!"
"Of course I do, you silly boy," she said, "But look at them, too."
Jounochi turned to Anzu and Rena and his eyes rolled in his head, "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing? Anzu with make up on, and Rena's hair's short? I've gotta be dreaming!"
Anzu pinched him, "Well now we know you're awake!"
Mai pinched him too, but a little more gently, "Now that you're done ogling Jou, be a gentleman and get our bags out of Rena's car."
"Except mine," Rena added.
"Well, which are which?" Jou asked, rubbing his head in confusion.
"The one's in the back are mostly mine," Mai said walking over, "Except these five, those are Anzu's. And the rest of hers are in the trunk, except for these, those you leave in there."
"Uh, sure," Jou said.
Anzu went inside to get more hands to carry things in, while Jou tried not to stumble under his load.
"Do you want to come in?" Yuugi asked Rena.
"No, I'm just going to wait until things are cleared out, then I'm going to head home."
"All right, just to let you know, Seto called about an hour ago, just wanted to know where you were," he added.
"And you told him. . ."
"Any mall within a thirty mile radius."
"Thanks," Rena smiled, watching Honda, Jou, and even Yami carry the rest of the bags inside, "Well, I'd better be going."
"See you tomorrow," Yuugi said.
"Same," Rena called, jumping back in her car, and driving out.
+~+~+~+~
Seto jumped up as he heard her come in, "Where have you-holy shit."
"You know, I've gotten a lot of those kinds of remarks today," Rena smiled. "So, how was your day?"
He ignored her, "What did you do to yourself, and more importantly, what did you do with my credit cards?"
"They went to a good cause, my personal happiness," she laughed.
"How much?"
"Did we spend? Gosh, I really don't know. A lot," she guessed.
"And just to whack your hair off," he twirled it in his fingers.
"I like it," she said, "It's very sexy."
"Sexy, huh?" he asked, "I liked it the other way."
"Well, I didn't, so I changed it," she shot back, "And I think it's fantastic! You should have seen the kind of looks we got in the stores!"
"Looks, huh?" he said, moving into another room, "Looks that ask you, 'How much?'"
"Are you jealous?" she asked, an amused smile playing at her lips, "Or protective?"
"The closest you could get would be practical, but if you want to assume the latter, I'll let you," he sighed, pouring himself a drink.
"You don't need that," she said, taking the glass away.
"I need it more than you think I do," he said bitterly, grabbing it and swallowing it down.
"Then you don't need more," she said, picking up the bottle and dropping it on the floor. It shattered, spreading liquor and glass across the floor.
"What the hell was that for?" he asked.
"For being such an asshole when I tried to be nice to you, maybe even impress you, now that I'm starting to feel whole again," she said, tears forming at the edge of her eyes, "I'm going to bed."
She turned on her heel, and walked up the stairs to see Mokuba, hiding behind a railing.
"Don't be mad at him, Rena," he pleaded, "He just didn't understand. You're beautiful."
"Thanks Mokuba," she pressed her lips to his cheek, "That means a lot."
+~+~+~+~
He watched her turn up the stairs, and threw his glass against the wall. Truth to tell, he didn't really understand why he was so angry. And yet, he did. She came home looking happier than he had seen her in weeks, and he felt himself being strongly attracted to that happiness, moreover, to her. And that still bothered him. He liked her, sure he liked her, but had never felt the physical want to kiss those pouting, red lips, and hold her as close to him as good taste would allow, and maybe even further.
And then another feeling boiled up inside him, guilt. He went upstairs.
+~+~+~+~
He opened the door softly; she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, brushing her hair.
"What do you want?" she asked, "Spite me some more?"
"If it's what you want," he shoved his hands in his pockets, "But no, I came to apologize."
"I didn't think you knew the meaning of the word."
"Rena," he said, sitting next to her.
"Seto," she mocked his tone.
"You seem different," he said.
"I guess I do," she mused, "But yet I don't. I got my hair done nicely, and a facial. Then bought some clothes, and yet it's such a simple act of femininity. It's something I haven't done in a while."
"Well, you're entitled to it."
"But it's weird, you know?" she asked, all hints of anger in her voice gone, "I've been just so out of it, so messed up, depressed is the best word. But today, with Anzu and Mai, I really just felt like, a, a girl."
"Dare you not say," Seto feigned surprise.
She glared at him, but it was weak, "People have been so used to thinking of me as a total loner, but I'm not. I used to be like this a lot."
"I believe the word is normal."
"Yes, and it's so strange. Today, well, I don't know. I wasn't thinking about Ryou, and I wasn't thinking about the Daughter of Set, I wasn't even thinking about Megami. I was okay, and yet, just this morning I had been to the scene of an appalling murder," she ran a hand through her hair.
"I'm glad you're normal for now," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I've done such a one eighty that no one's ever going to know what I'm really like," she smiled, lying up against him.
"Hey, I know what you're like," he stroked his face against hers.
"What do you think I'm like?"
"Well, you are attractive, sexy in laymen's terms, and you're smart, cynical at times, and have an unpredictability that probably stems from having two souls sharing the same body, you can be hotheaded, persistent, and yes, stubborn," he traced his lips down her neck.
"Ma'at was kind when she stuck us together," Rena laughed.
Seto pulled her face to his, "Shut up."
She reached a hand around his neck; as he bent down to kiss her. His hands tightened around her waist, turning her onto his lap, and she parted her lips for him. She grabbed his face with her hands, each taking delight in the kiss, and slowly he fell back onto the bed.
She pulled out first this time, breathing heavily, lying on top of his chest.
"Damn boy," she breathed, "We have to do that again."
"Fine with me," he said, putting his lips back on hers.
She pulled out though, "Seto, come on now. This is a little heavy."
"Yeah," he admitted, getting up, "So you going to bed?"
"Duh."
He tugged his coat off and flopped onto her bed, "I'm staying here for the night."
"Whatever," she cuddled up against him.
"Mmm, I like you here," he said, "Where I can make sure you don't go whacking off your hair."
"Say one more word about it and I kill you."
They went on bickering slightly for another hour before both admitted defeat and fell asleep.
~ Hangyakusha no wa Deeto
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Yay, yay, yay! I like this chapter! Hey, did I take Seto OOC on this one? I can't decide! Whoo! I'm on a serious rush here. I love Ujin the Hairdresser! Five thousand points to anyone who can guess what I played his name from! (Hint: It's Japanese.) But yeah, all's I can say is click the button and review! I'll be seeing ya! And by the way, I definitely have a sequel lined up for this, plot and all! Celebration for me!
Randomness: Seto and Rena 4-Ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!! : )