(Seto)
What do you say to the people who have given you everything you've ever wanted? I'd never given it much thought – especially considering I'd never been in the situation to do so. But there I was, sitting in that damned bar with Yami on one side, Bakura on the other, for last time. I'd leave tomorrow, and they'd be out of my life forever… Somewhere between their bickering and the fourth shot they ordered me, I realized that I owed them something.
God damn it.
If nothing else, I owed them some gratitude – hadn't I told Jounouchi that I'd save the gratitude for when we succeeded? I said it expecting never to live up to that promise, never expecting them to fulfill their end of the bargain. But it came back to that question: what could I say to them? Did a simple 'thank you' cut it when they had helped me at their own expense, with no other rewards?
No. I didn't know anything that did.
So I stayed silent and took their shots without refusal, as though by letting them get me drunk, I could repay how they had helped. It beat vocalizing the feeling; I knew more actions than words anyway. Besides, the whole ordeal had started with a few shots; it seemed fitting that it should end that way too.
Yami was on my left – he wasn't drinking, just helping Bakura order for me. Every now and then he would look at me, then look away to bait Bakura with some lame insult. Bakura wasn't paying me any more attention other than to make sure I was enjoying my drinks. I wasn't, but he seemed content with my compliance. I hope he didn't expect anything more from me.
Four shots, five…
I almost regretted that I'd leave them. I didn't fight with Mokuba, and I'd gotten used to listening to them argue. It'd be different without having those two making some lame excuse to go out as they climbed into the car. Maybe I owed them more than my gratitude; maybe I owed them a good-bye…
Or maybe that was the sixth shot doing my thinking for me.
(Yami)
"You're a neat guy," Seto said from the backseat, his voice half-mumble. I sighed and cast a sidelong glance at Bakura. They really should have stopped drinking sooner, especially considering that Seto had a flight in a less than twenty-four hours. However, Bakura was enjoying every second of Seto's drunkenness. Then again, he wasn't very sober either. "Which one?" he shot back with a grin.
"Both – you aren't such fuck-ups after all," Seto replied. Only he could somehow make a compliment into an insult. I was going to miss that.
It had been interesting to work with him, certainly different than anyone I had known. Something about him – maybe his bluntness, or his façade of fearlessness – was refreshingly different, but sad. Quite the irony, really: Seto wanted to leave because there had been no one there for him and his brother, and in his quest to get the one thing he needed before he left, he had ended up making himself a place in Domino. Shame it wasn't enough to make him want to stay.
"Even Malik isn't so bad," Seto continued, rambling more to himself than Bakura or me. "Stupidest person I've ever met, but not bad."
"What about Ryou?" Bakura asked. "He's fun when you get him nice and toasted."
"He's nice enough when he's not – speaking of which, what did you give me?"
"Enough," Bakura laughed, and I shook my head, pulling up into the driveway. Despite it all, I couldn't help smiling.
"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here," I announced. "Everyone out."
Bakura made his way into his house without any trouble – he'd navigated it in a haze more than enough times to be able to do it on his own – but Seto stumbled over the first step up to his apartment, barely catching himself from landing face-first on the steps. He righted himself and promptly sat down. I sighed and turned off the car, stepping out to join him.
Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend a little more time with him. "Need a hand?" I asked as I sat beside him.
"I'll sit it off," he said. He looked like a pouting child, indignant tone to boot. It was a ridiculous contrast to how serious he was – and it was kind of nice.
I laughed just a little. "It'll be easier to let me help you up."
"The strong help themselves up," he retorted, surprisingly calm. "I refuse to adapt to help."
"Well, that's a good philosophy," I said, standing and holding out my hand to him, "but it's chilly tonight, and if you catch a cold from sitting here, you'll need even more help than just getting up the stairs. Haven't I told you that you need to make sure you stay strong?"
He raised an eyebrow and then shrugged, holding up a hand in compliance; I smiled at the gesture, helping up to his feet and putting an arm around his waist to steady him.
"Who are you gonna baby when I go?" One arm went around my shoulders, the other on the railing, and we started up towards his door.
"I'll figure something out," I said when we finally reached the door. I took him into the apartment, and the first thing he did was extract himself from me, stumbling over to his bed and dropping onto it, groaning slightly when he landed. "Need anything?" I smirked. "I can find you a bucket for the morning…"
"No." He yawned. "Y'think if we'd met differently, things would be different?"
"What things?"
"Just… I don't know – if I hadn't had to kidnap Mokuba or if you'd just been another orphan I'd met…"
I shrugged, leaning against the doorframe; I still had the door open, ready to leave. "So you mean if our entire lives were different, would we be different? That's a given. The real question is if our lives were different, would we have met at all?"
"Probably not. Somehow, I don't think I'd have a use for an annoyance like you in any other situation."
"And that's where we differ in opinion – some things are meant to happen. Even if we had met differently, you'd still be you, and I'd still be me – it's not to say we would have acted any different."
"Whatever; it's not like it matters anyway, it's just a thought to kill time." He yawned again, closing his eyes. I couldn't figure out if he looked weary, or just drunk. "I'm tired."
"So get some sleep; tomorrow's going to be huge for you. I'll…" I'd almost forgotten; 'I'll see you later' wasn't a customary good-bye anymore. "I guess I won't be seeing you again."
"Nope," he said matter-of-factly. That was all he had to say. As much as I never tried to press him to say anything… I was curious to what was going on in his head. Was the whole ordeal as simple to him as 'nope'?
There was only one word to bring it all to an end. "Good-bye."
The door was halfway shut when he called after me, his voice so soft I almost didn't catch it, "I meant it when I said that you're a good guy, even if you are… Well, never mind. So thank you. And good-bye." I closed the door behind me without saying anything, but only because words weren't enough. I had to do one more thing before he left.
I had to find an appropriate parting gift.
notes
Thanks the purkle for the beta job -- proving once again that betas do a damn good job! ::heart:: (and I swear, I'm not just sucking up -- there was actually a time error I had missed in here. ::embarrassment::)
Anyway... Ahem. One chapter left. Yep, I'm nervous about that. It's pretty funny; in the original-original idea of this, Yami's role wasn't NEARLY as big. In fact, he didn't really have a role at all -- it was originally a Seto/Ryou story. Obviously, the yaoi didn't belong, because it's not here anymore, lol. But it focused a lot less on the planning of the kidnapping, and Seto spent more time sitting around Bakura & Ryou than he did with Yami. Hm. How things happen.