Disclaimer: His/theirs. Not mine. (See chapter one for extended prefatory notes.)

Two Hours' Traffic

Chapter Three

"Swing by the diner?"

"If they still have that cheesecake, sure!"

They walked three abreast down the sidewalk.

"So you've got that social work job, Yuug; Honda's doing construction work; and what's Anzu up to? Still at Burger World?"

"She took orders."

"I know she did. Hey, we ate there often enough, not that she always looked delighted to see us."

Honda smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead. Yuugi looked at once upset and amused. It was he who answered, "No—she took orders—joined a sisterhood that's active with the poor."

Jounouchi stopped dead, and had to work his jaw a few times before it could close again. He coughed, then said, "A nun."

"Yup." Yuugi was staring straight ahead.

"Why? Was it--"

"Ask her that." All humor was gone from Yuugi's voice. Too brightly, he added, "I need to stop by work for a while. I'll catch up with you at the diner."

"Yuug?"

"It's okay." A flash of Yuugi's old smile returned. "Say—thanks for not blowing my cover with Grandpa."

"Was it—that Kaiba guy?"

Yuugi hefted his satchel. "He was too angry to know what he was doing. I tried to step between him and Dinosaur and he just swung at me with his briefcase—it glanced off me, nothing time won't cure." He added confidentially, "Much better than living with a paranoid grandfather." With a wink like Anzu's, he was off, weaving his way through the noonday shoppers.

"C'mon, let's get moving. ...Pity about Anzu and Yuugi."

"She never noticed?"

"He never told her."

"Damn." They walked on in silence for a while, Jounouchi kicking a pebble ahead of him.

Suddenly, Honda's boot descended on the pebble. Jounouchi looked up to meet Honda's frowning gaze.

"Don't tell me Mai's wiped all the liveliness out of you. You've been so," he waved a hand in frustration, "mute since you came back. Never thought I'd miss that braying laugh of yours. So spill it."

"What?"

"What's flattened you out? Where's your pep, your verve, your drive? Your 'bring it on' chutzpah?"

"She broke my heart. What—you expect me to feel overjoyed?"

"I expect you to bounce back the way you always have. Other fish in the sea, other birds in the tree. You knew it was a one-way thing from the start, you told me as much. That's what comes of chasing someone older--"

"Can it already. It was worth it to me to at least make the effort."

"Yes, but for four years?"

"You sound like you've got some problem with that. Why don't you spit it out?" They had reached the diner. Honda breathed deep, leaned back against the aluminum siding.

"Yes, I do. There's been a lot going down here, and it would have been a help to have you at home, not off chasing some woman who barely knew you existed."

"It wasn't--" began Jounouchi, then clamped his mouth shut. Suddenly, he threw his arms around Honda. "I'm sorry, man," he muttered into a denim- clad shoulder.

"You should be. You're not the only one whose heart's been broken, y'know."

Jounouchi's eyes popped open. He drew back a little, eyed the other. "We'd never have worked out."

"You goof! It wasn't you I meant. –And that's all I'm going to say about it," Honda added hastily as Jounouchi opened his mouth.

"Are you two going to loiter there indefinitely, or are you paying customers?"

They looked up. Bakura was grinning at them from the window above. He gave them a wave, then disappeared.

"Yeah, Honda, stop scaring off the clientele."

"Hey!"

The pair shouldered their way into the bustle of customers and found themselves a booth.

"So what'll it be...gentlemen?"

Ryou Bakura materialized beside them. He'd grown pleasantly rounded since Jounouchi had last seen him, his face more than ever like the full moon.

"Lookin' good, Bakura." Jounouchi gave the young man a teasing poke; Bakura squeaked, blushed, smiled.

"I enjoy this work."

"More than that programming job you got after high school? I thought you loved working there."

Bakura hesitated. "Different. But this—it pulls me out of myself, keeps me focused on what's going on around me."

"You forgot to mention that the software company folded."

"Still unhappy about that?" Bakura said, sympathetic brown eyes on Honda. "I was, too, for a long time...but in some ways I'm happier at the diner."

"So long as a McKaiba franchise doesn't open up down the road from you."

"Our customers are loyal--"

"That's what Sugoroku thought."

Jounouchi waved his arms to get their attention. "If you plan to keep at this, I'll need brain food. A stack of pancakes, rashers and eggs on the side, and a large coffee, Baks. Home fries too. And cheesecake afterwards."

"Appetite as tiny as ever," murmured Honda.

As Jounouchi tackled the brunet, Bakura coughed delicately. "So I shouldn't bring you the usual, Honda? No SuperDeluxe Special?"

If he squinted at them, the scraps of sky between the maple leaves turned into moving daytime constellations. Mokuba blinked rapidly, then let his eyelids drift shut.

Like so many of his brother's gestures, the building of this treehouse had been unexpected, extravagant and strangely touching. Never mind that Mokuba had already been fourteen when they moved here; never mind that he'd only had one summer to "play" in it before going off to boarding school. Seto Kaiba was determined that his younger brother would have a Proper Childhood, even if it wound up being delivered to him piecemeal and stealthily. Much of Seto's own salary that year had gone into the hand-tooled construction of the treehouse, and, with the staff's sympathies firmly on the side of the brothers, Gozaburo had remained none the wiser about the new feature added to the fringes of his estate.

It still surprised Mokuba how much of a refuge it had become to him since that time. Seto was generally at KC from dawn till well past dusk, and Mokuba had come to dread the silence that poured down the halls of the mansion to greet him every morning.

This treehouse was just the right size for one person. Or two.

Mokuba blushed without knowing why. A cooling breeze slid over the platform where he lay.

After a few heartbeats he sat up and pulled over his laptop, shaking his head over Seto's propensity to saturate every square inch of his property with connectivity. (Wireless access and an intercom were the latest additions to the treehouse, which had always boasted electrical outlets).

A few emails had come in since he last checked. One message from his classmate Nakatsu, asking about his fall plans. "If I knew, I'd tell you," he told the screen, and clicked on the next email—this one from Otogi had sent a series of links that turned out to be his idea of Mokuba's proper outfit for the birthday celebration: dark slacks, a midnight-blue blazer, silk shirt, dress shoes, and staggering price tag. "Bill them to Seto, of course!" he wrote blithely.

Ick.

Mokuba shoved the computer away—he had the feeling he'd overeaten.

"Some days, I wish I could abduct Seto and Otogi and just—move," he said softly. But no matter where Seto is, he'll never be content. He can never just be. Otogi's fine with that, I guess. But I—

Turning back to the keyboard, he opened the next email; the KC virtual design department was offering him an internship. He closed the window immediately. The two subsequent messages appeared to be from colleges. He let his cursor hover over the "Delete All" button for a while before opting simply to exit from the program.

He closed his eyes, reached to his left, pulled his guitar to him.

-end chapter three-

Thanks to Hush Puppie for beta-ing, and to reviewers LadySaturnGirl, rayemars, [samurai-]ashes, and Tuulikki for your reactions to the story! I'm honored to be read by y'all, let alone reviewed. : - )

BTW, LadySaturnGirl: there are several good fics pairing Seto and Otogi, though they don't always turn out happily for the relationship...e.g. Cairnsy's "Fairytale," "That's Why They Call Them the Blues" by Scylla the Healer, and others I can't track down at the moment. I've seen at least one sample of SxR fanart too.