AN: Yay! You guys liked it! Thanks so much for those reviews, they really made my day. And thanks to Clarity for that writing that wonderfully encouraging email as well. I agree with you all, there is not enough Seto/Isis out there! It's a gorgeous looking pairing with so much potential of drama, people! Anyway, here is a new chapter. Have no worry, I will update this frequently. So enjoy! And don't forget to review.
The second time Kaiba woke his head felt much better, and he seemed to be alone in bed. A good place to begin, he thought glumly. He pushed himself off the bed, and looked around distractedly. The first thing he noticed was that Isis was gone. A sudden subtle stroke of fear struck him, followed immediately by a keen annoyance at that fear. He shook his head hard to rid himself thoughts of that Egyptian woman, and continued to search the room with his eyes.
He saw his briefcase sitting on the floor beside the fireplace, along with his shirt and his usual trench coat. He leaped towards his belongings like a preying wolf, and hastily threw his clothes over his bare chest, growling a stream of incomprehensible things at the same time. He seemed more at ease after he had thrown some clothes on. Settling down on the armchair beside the fireplace, he fished out from his pocket a cell phone.
Daftly he flipped it open, not really expecting it to work. Indeed, there was no signal. Slapping it shut he stuffed the little device back into his pocket irately. Turning he saw a computer sitting on the desk across the room from the fireplace. It was turned on, and was displaying some pictures and text. This caught his attention. Quickly he strode over to the desk, took a seat, and began to read the web page on the monitor screen.
"A raging storm like none ever observed is plaguing New York State currently."(So the article went), "In accordance with the abnormal weathers worldwide recently, the storm is nothing short of extremes, having brought in more than 1000 ml of precipitation and high tide that flooded the entirety of Manhattan. Experts anticipate the storm will continue for seven to ten days, bringing down enough snow to cover all of Canada and Northern USA. It is advised that everyone should evacuate the northern states and move south to Florida, Texas, and Mexico. Those who are already caught in the storm should keep indoors and wait for the storm to pass."
He stopped reading there, and stood up abruptly, thoroughly irked. He went over to the small window at the other end of the room, flung back the dark blue curtains forcefully and looked outside. Nothing but unbroken white greeted his sight, extending as far as eyes can see. Gritting teeth he let out a soft growl of annoyance. Why must all ill fortunes land on him?
"You are hardly going to melt the snow by glaring at it." A soft voice murmured. He turned around and saw Isis standing beside him, looking at the white world outside with a curious light in her eyes.
"Where were you?" He asked impulsively, only to kick himself mentally for asking such a question as if he cared.
"Searching the building," She answered distractedly, "and I found no other living soul."
"Charming." Kaiba muttered; his voice drowned in sarcasm.
They stood silently for a while, watching the snow tumbling out of the darkening sky. There was an eerie gloom in the air. Finally Isis said gravely, "This is not an ordinary storm."
"You don't think?" Kaiba's voice was cynical as ever.
Isis sighed, "You don't seem to understand. I meant this storm is not just caused by air pressure and current. There is much more here. Shadow magic is about, I can sense it."
Strangely, there was no scathing reply from Kaiba. "You can feel it too, can you not? The Shadow Realm is woven into your existence, however much you wish to deny it." She said quietly, seeking his cold blue eyes with her own. "Surely you can sense the magic in the air."
Kaiba avoided her eyes determinedly and said, "Don't give me that nonsensical talk. I am not Yugi."
Isis said no more and turned her attention back to the sight outside the window. There was more silence. Suddenly Kaiba asked, "So what are you going to do about it?"
"What am I going to do?" Isis looked at him questioningly.
"You are going to do something about it, aren't you? I mean about the Shadow Magic." His voice was thick with reluctance.
There was now a light smile on Isis's face, but quickly the smile faded as she shook her head and said, "No, there is nothing I can do at the moment. I do not know what spell is floating outside and causing this havoc. How can I trace something that I do not even know the name of?"
She said no more and turned away. With one last vehement glare at the whitewashed world outside, Kaiba flung the curtains shut again and followed her. They settled down around the fireplace once more. Isis arranged some food, and they ate quietly. They were silent once more, for neither of them was by any mean sociable nor interested in small talks.
"The fire is going out." Finally Kaiba remarked nonchalantly, staring at the dying flame.
Isis nodded and said, "I suppose the gas pipeline is at last frozen. Pity, we will have to burn something else."
She rose from her seat and took from the desk some thick books and threw them into the flame. Before the now growing fire engulfed them, Kaiba managed to catch the title of one especially thick leather bound volume.
Kaiba's eyebrow rose as he said with a snort, "Pyramid Text and The Book of Dead? Doesn't look like something you would burn."
"They are hardly useful to me." She replied coolly. "I have them memorized since I was five."
"I suppose you are the same lunatic with a head full of useless information." Kaiba muttered.
A thin smile surfaced on Isis's face once more. She said with an amused light in her eyes, "Is there even a point to such blunt insult devoid of any artistry?"
Kaiba merely glared. She sighed again and said, "We should rest. It is late."
She stood up and hovered there for a second, before saying with the faintest hint of irritation, "Have you any intention of using that bed?"
"No." The reply came swift and gruff.
An elegant shrug in reply, "Suit yourself."
Moment later blankets came floating towards him by some unseen magic. He stared for a second, before snatching them in his hands. "Try to keep warm." Isis's voice came to him also from the other end of the room, airy and insubstantial. Grudgingly he wrapped the blankets about him, and continued to stare into the dying flame.
He did not remember falling asleep, but when he woke again the clock was reading one. He arranged himself in a more comfortable position and was about to go back to sleep, when a ruffling sound interrupted him. He turned and saw Isis was turning restlessly on the bed, and shivering uncontrollably. Rolling his eyes and sighing, he went over to her bed.
Her brow was knitted, and her smooth dusky face seemed pale. A sudden coughing fit wrecked her frame, but she did not wake; only turned slightly. Kaiba frowned, and took his own blankets and draped them over her form. His finger brushed against her forehead, and felt an unnatural heat.
"Great." He muttered irritably, and sat down on the bed beside her. "Why must you get a fever now?"
He was at a loss of what do to, so he simply sat there, looking down at her. Somehow his thoughts wandered back to the days of Battle City. She was so fiercely determined, and her will remained unbending throughout the entire ordeal, even though caught between such crossfire of her liege lord and her brother. He remembered fondly how she seemed like a sprig of willow wand to him; how she looked so frail in the still frost of an early spring, yet remained unbroken through the most ferocious storm.
Her hand suddenly rose, and her slender fingers twined themselves about his wrist. They were cold. "Brother..." She whispered fervently, trapped in her own dream world. "Return to the light...Please."
He was shocked, but did not try to pull his hand away. He had never seen her shook once, but now, she was trembling with such a nightmarish fervour, as if a leaf in the howling wind. Whatever irritation and scorn he still had evaporated completely. A pitiful adoration like he never felt before slowly welled up in him, despite his urge to stop its flow. She was not unlike himself, such a lone figure who hides all her sorrows behind an exterior of ethereal calm. He took her hand in his own, and found it alarmingly cold.
Maybe now, of all time, was not for much philosophical pondering. He was growing cold himself, having surrendered his blankets to Isis. And that left few options open. Gingerly he lied down on the bed next to her, and wrapped his arms about her. Strangely it felt neither stupid nor awkward, only warm and comforting. The willowy form in his arms smelt sweetly of exotic blossoms.
"You are growing soft. And perverted." A tiny voice said in the back of his mind.
"Shut up." He muttered, quieting his own thoughts, and willed himself to sleep. With his last few streams of thoughts he remembered the storm would last seven to ten days. That seemed a very long time.