Welcome back to 'Seto May Cry', everybody! (crickets chirp) Hmph... well, thank you to all those who have been reading and reviewing once again. For some reason, it seems that I didn't get as many reviews on this last chapter as I have on the rest, and I hope that, if it's due to anything like deterioration of the quality of the story or people not understanding, at least one person would let me know (preferably without flaming). In any case... this chapter finishes off the basic setup of the story. It should be all downhill from here! :)
Enjoy, and on to the thanks!
Kumori Sakusha formerly Saelbu: I really hope I spelled that right... thank you for your review, and I hope you like this chapter as much as you did the previous ones!
Queen of Games: Hey, again! LOL, no, he is most definitely NOT Celtic Guardian, but that was a majorly good guess! Nope, the Reaper is another of my OC's, with no relation to the YGO world whatsoever. I went with green because black is so overdone, and... yeah, his personality kinda wrote itself. Well, anyway, Seto is back! Enjoy this next chapter (still in Seto-kun's POV!).
Firewing: Maybe YOUR Reaper wants as many souls as he can catch, but MY Reaper's lazy... :P Thanks again for reviewing, although you really don't have to. Goodness knows I haven't been on IKYOTS! Oh, and about that... (cowers behind a rock) It'll be done soon, okay? Don't kill me! ;)
Flame Swordswoman: I am so sorry about calling you "Flame Swordsman" in the last chapter thanks. I only realized it after I posted, and, well... I apologize. LOL, there's no Joey in this chapter, but he will be in the next, and I hope that this story is long enough to get, as you say, 'many reviews'. Thanks for your continued interest, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Tess: Cynical and lazy, that's our Reaper! Aww... thanks for the compliments, and I hope that you like this chapter as much as you did the last few. Seto might not be a zombie, but there is a nice little twist that makes things a lot more interesting... enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own only the plot and my OC's.
Chapter 4: The Rules of the Game
Once again, I wake up in the remains of the Kaiba Corp. building; this time, however, I am fully conscious of every sharp, uncomfortable edge digging into my body. My body. I have a body.
The cold metal toe of a boot nudges my ribs, none too gently. "Get up, lazy. I didn't stick my neck out to watch you sleep."
I grunt in pain as I drag myself to my feet, fully conscious of each nerve ending as it protests this action. "I'm alive?" I ask groggily, inwardly overjoyed by the sound of my own voice.
He sighs. "Yes, you're alive! Just don't go screaming it to the heavens, though, okay? They won't like it."
I nod my understanding, glancing around at the blast area with fresh eyes. There are no more shining figures, and where the sky above was once tinted by the rosy glow of sunset, it is now draped in the aura of false dawn. A soft breeze stirs my hair, and I sigh dreamily. As cliché as it sounds, it's a gift to be alive.
Suddenly, I realize that I'm completely unclothed, and flush deeply as I shrink from the armoured man's piercing gaze. "Please," he chuckles, rudely refusing to avert his eyes. "You're acting like you're the first human I've seen naked. What do you think happens when people have heart attacks during sex?"
My blush intensifies, and as my hands brush against my bare skin, I notice that it feels radically different to my touch. Surprised, I glance downward, and immediately feel ill; there is not one inch of my body, save my hands, that is untouched by either scar tissue, extreme blistering, or a sickening combination of the two. Surprise gives way to total shock, and I glare up at the armoured man, forgetting my embarrassment. "What's this?!" I demand, gesturing to my abused body.
"I told you there would be conditions," he says with a lopsided grin that reminds me of Joey. "You come back as you were the instant before your injuries became fatal. Since you died in a fire, there was extensive burning before it finally did you in. So, that carries over." His grin broadens. "What does it matter, though? You're here to fight, not to be a stripper."
I fight back a moan as my hands travel over my scarred face, through my singed hair. Calm down. It's just physical appearance. Joey'll love you anyway. Oh, but how can I go back to him like this? "Can I at least have clothes?" I say, using my voice as a weapon against the doubting echoes in my mind.
"I suppose so. Can't have your misplaced modesty interfering with any battles." He levels one finger in my direction, and a black light threaded with azure begins to swirl around me. Black leather pants encase my legs, disappearing into combat boots of an even darker shade. A long-sleeved silken shirt takes shape over my upper body, open slightly around the neck. Its hemline stops just above the waistband of my pants, and as I watch, mystified, a length of chain encircles my hips. The entire outfit looks skintight, but I feel no different wearing it than I did without it.
The armoured man draws a circle in the air with his extended finger, and a royal blue cape settles over my shoulders, spilling down my back and just past my waist. A high collar attached to it covers the lower half of my face, and unconsciously, I try to hide more of my scarred visage beneath it. He smiles, striding quickly around me before coming to a stop less than half an arm's length away, staring directly into my eyes.
"You ever considered being a model?" he asks, then laughs sardonically. "Well, too late for that now, isn't it?" As I frown, he returns to grinning. "Just a bit here..." He taps the bridge of my nose, and a pair of blue-tinted sunglasses spread over my eyes. With a nod, he steps back. "There. I think that ought to do it." As an afterthought, he points at my throat, and a silver cross appears, settling over the small patch of skin with a tingle of cold metal. "I doubt your boyfriend would recognize you."
"I don't," I reply immediately, still trying to digest that it's really me standing here, wearing what I consider to be a ridiculous getup. At least it's clothes.
"Maybe you're right," he concedes. "Alright. Clothes are out of the way. Now, let's talk weapons. Which ones are you most proficient with?"
I stare at him blankly, suddenly thankful for the shades obscuring my eyes. "I am well-versed in certain martial arts," I say, clearing my throat modestly.
He throws his head back, and laughter peals across the desolate expanse of debris, reverberating off the empty office buildings surrounding us. "Kicks and punches only make demons angry," he explains as the last echoes fade away. "Know how to use anything else?"
I shake my head. "I can fire a gun. That's about it."
He snorts. "Guns. You humans have a way of taking all the fun out of war. Guns, nuclear missiles... not only do they lobotomize fights, but they kill people in such astronomical numbers that I can't help but get backlogged!" His tirade stops suddenly, and he sniffs in what I consider to be a very superior manner. "Whatever, then. Take these."
He makes a tossing motion, and twin swords clatter to the ground at my feet. As I heft them, swinging them to test their weight, I realize two things; one, they're insanely light, and two, calling them swords is probably a mistake. They're more akin to very long, thin daggers than swords.
"Those should fit right into your fighting style, with a bit of practice," continues the armoured man. "And believe me, once those sorcerers recover from their last attempt, you'll be getting plenty of that."
"Recover?" Absently, I thrust the blades through links in my chain belt, feeling them sting my thighs as though there were nothing between my burnt flesh and their cruel sharpness.
"Invoking forces of such a magnitude that they require souls as payment isn't easy," he explains. "But they should be able to recast the spell in a few days, tops." His gauntlet clinks as he dismisses this train of thought with a wave of his hand. "For now, there are other things you need to worry about, like the rest of the conditions surrounding your resurrection."
"I'm listening," I say, sweeping my cape back over my shoulder in a cavalier fashion.
"One, your power is not to be used for any sort of personal gain, or to perpetrate any violence that is not directly necessary in the safeguarding of innocent lives." He recites the terms rotely, as though this were something he does every day. "Two, you must let as few people as possible see you, and let none know your true identity." At this, he smirks. "Looking as you do, that should be an easy rule to abide by."
"Can we dispense with the commentary?" I growl.
"No sense of humour either, I see," he observes dryly. "Very well, then. Under normal circumstances, those are the only conditions to which you would be expected to conform. However, your case is a special one, and there are a few other things I need to go over with you."
"What do you mean by special?" My back tenses, and I straighten as though someone had just replaced my spinal cord with an iron rod.
"Well, your death was paid for with a human soul. Cheating that kind of magic isn't easy, but I found a way around it." I notice a slight shift of his eyes, and realize that he is no longer maintaining eye contact.
"Go on," I prompt him.
"All your energy is being drawn from your lover's pain. The more he's hurting, be it physically or emotionally, the stronger you will be." The armoured man pauses, allowing his words time to sink in while I stand there, completely stunned. "If, at any point, he is no longer in pain, you will cease to exist."
I hold up one hand. "Wait a minute. You're telling me that, if Joey is relieved of his pain for even a single minute, I disappear?"
"No," he replies, and my heart leaps before sinking even lower than it was before he spoke. "I'm telling you that if isn't hurting for a second, you're gone."
"There has to be another way!" I shout, as though uttering the words at a greater volume will change anything. "I won't be some sort of.. parasite, living off Joey's pain like that!"
"You don't have a choice," he states simply. "Either you do it this way, or those sorcerers get to have their way with him." His gaze turns pensive. "Who knows what they'll do with him before they kill him; rape, torture, beating..."
"All right! I'll do it!" I yell, just to cut him off. The thought of even one of those atrocities being perpetrated on my precious Joey is enough to make me want to level this entire island just to get at those treacherous bastards.
"That's the spirit!" he crows, slapping me on the shoulder none too gently. I wince, and he frowns. "Whoops, forgot those burns were still fresh. You might want to steal some cream for that."
"Why can't I just..." I would have said 'buy it' had I not remembered the rule about keeping a low profile. I doubt any pharmacy workers would forget the scarred man in leather anytime before the next century.
"Exactly," he says. "Don't worry, though; judging from this Joey dude's current anguish level, you should be able to pull this off easily. Just a little stealth spell, and maybe a bit of lockpicking..."
The word 'spell' reminds me that I have no idea what sort of new powers I might have. "You've neglected to tell me what else I can do," I say.
Once again, he smirks. "What fun would that be?"
"What fun is getting killed because you forgot to brief me on how to use my so-called 'powers'?" I shoot back.
"Don't worry. Your body knows what to do." He waves my concerns off as though they were little more than pesky fruit flies. "Just don't forget what you're fighting for, and you'll be alright."
How could I? I'm fighting for Joey. "That's not very reassuring," I deadpan.
"Perhaps not," he says with a wink, "but it's all you're getting." With one final chuckle, he turns on one metal-clad heel, waving over his shoulder at me. "Good luck, Seto Kaiba. You're going to need it, big time."
I exhale deeply once he's gone, watching as false dawn fades under the first rays of the sun. My first order of business is going to be finding a place to stay until Joey decides to go back to Domino. Then, I'll have to take care of these burns and figure out as much as I can about my new abilities before I need to use them. He said I have a few more days before they can attack us again; better get started, then.
As I turn toward the west, away from the rising sun, its light glints off something buried in the rubble. Curious, I reach down, expecting to find only a shard of glass. Instead, I pull out my silver wedding band, slightly dirty but not seriously tarnished. Reverently, I slide it onto my right middle finger, where it belongs, and the welcome chill of the metal ring bolsters my courage.
I swear to you, Joey, I vow sincerely, I will protect you. Whatever it takes, I will not allow any harm to come to you. This I swear on the love I bear for you, and that which I know you bear for me.
My promise made, I leave this desolate gravesite behind. I have very little time before my ability to make good on it is tested, and this is a test which I do not intend to fail.