Chapter Seven

Isis wasn't usually one to question her emotions—normally she just accepted them for what they were. She loved Rishid and Malik because they were her brothers. She respected the Pharaoh because it was her duty. To Isis, things just were the way they were.

But this. This was new, the way she felt towards Seto. And it wasn't a simple, one-dimensional feeling, either. It was many emotions melded together, some of them new to her, but all of them confusing. It was care, respect, desire, anguish. It made no sense, and Isis liked her world to make sense.

And yet, despite that, she didn't dislike her mess of feelings for Seto. Something about the way her heart jumped when she saw him, something about the way she felt when they were talking with each other, something about it was pleasant. And it was delightful to let those feelings wash through her when they were near each other. It felt like a secret, a special secret for her to guard.

But why? Isis asked herself as she lay in bed that night. What are these feelings? Could they be… l…?

Even in her own thoughts, Isis couldn't bring herself to finish the word. That's… that's impossible… isn't it? I can't lo—…like him… She gave a faint, self-ridiculing snicker at the euphemism she had chosen for herself. It made her feel like one of the schoolgirl characters in the cartoons she'd watched sometimes, bashful and naïve.

"Love." Isis whispered the word into the silence of her dark bedroom. No, that can't be what I'm feeling, she thought. Such a small word. There's no way it could describe such a complicated thing.

But somewhere deep in her heart, she knew the truth. As it drifted to the focus of her consciousness, she reluctantly acknowledged it. Love… I am in love with Seto Kaiba. She could hardly believe it. Love was the stuff of fairy tales, of novels. It didn't happen to her…

And why on earth should I love him? He's… he's… he's five years younger than I am! Isis was twenty-one; Seto was only sixteen, the same age as Malik. And it wasn't that Isis didn't love her little brother, certainly not; but that was a different kind of love. She often regarded Malik as someone to be protected, watched over. It wasn't like that with Seto.

Of course, to say that Seto was only sixteen was misleading. He acted far, far older than that. His self-possession was impressive, as was the way he had of making people feel insignificant. His mature, often haughty confidence was part of what had surprised Isis so much when she'd first met with him at the museum. Instead of looking down on him as a younger, less experienced young man, she had found herself thinking of him as if he were her age, worthy of her respect.

Not that it matters to him. Isis didn't even bother trying to fool herself—she knew Seto had hated her during Battle City. She had been a threat to the way he thought, the way he saw the world. During their duel especially, he had been rude to a point that would have been unbearable if Isis had not foreseen it so many times.

But he was the one who had affected Isis most in Battle City. It was ironic, almost. She had come hoping to convince him of the truth of his past; he had instead shown her the security of an unknown future.

When she'd tried to tell him that, thank him for it, he'd given a scornful answer and sauntered off. After the duel, though, Isis had sensed Seto's distaste for her fading slightly. She was no longer a threat to him, after all. He had proved her faith in the Millennium Tauk wrong—at least he thought he had—and he'd won the duel. Isis was sure he'd thought of her then as a harmless—if annoying—crazy woman with no proof for her fanciful stories.

And yet, when he began to receive his own proof for her "stories," undeniable proof, hadn't Isis and her family been the first ones he turned to? It seemed too much for Isis to hope that this meant something about how he felt towards her. And a week and a half ago, it wouldn't have mattered to her at all to know how Seto felt about her.

Then a vicious idea in the back of Isis's mind made itself known. It won't matter in another two and a half weeks, either. Isis's heart gave a sudden twist of sorrow—no, it was fear. She was terrified of Seto having to leave. She wanted… well, she didn't know what she wanted. But she loved him, and she didn't want him to leave.

Isis shook her head desperately, trying to clear it of the knowledge that, no matter how much she willed it otherwise, Seto would have to leave soon. The idea fell silent again, and slowly, Isis fell asleep.

She awoke the next morning feeling less than completely refreshed. Looking at her watch, though, she saw that this was because it was only 5:30. But it was still too late to go back to bed and wake up in time for work. Isis sighed, then got out of bed and changed into one of her work dresses. She began braiding her hair as she started towards the dining room. As she passed the library, she glanced in out of instinct, not really expecting to see Seto so early in the morning.

But he was there. He must have heard her passing, because he looked up. "Good morning, Isis."

"Good morning," Isis replied. She smiled at him, acting perfectly serene. But her heart sped up, and she suddenly felt very awkward. So this is what I get for being honest with myself, she thought dryly. She took a cautious step into the library, towards him. "Did you sleep well?"

Seto shrugged, but Isis saw a slight frown pull at his mouth. Out of concern, she pressed, "You didn't?"

"I just had a stupid dream, that's all."

"About Kisara?" Isis guessed.

Curtly, Seto nodded. Noticing that he didn't seem overly excited about her presence, Isis hadn't gone in any farther; she was considering leaving when Seto said, "She says I've forgotten something." At his willingness to talk, Isis dared to take another step in. He continued, with just a hint of bitterness, "But I didn't forget anything, because I didn't know anything about her in the first place. She's thinking of Priest Set."

Isis gave a half-sincere smile of pity. Seto must have noticed her lack of enthusiasm, because he gave a mirthless smirk and said, "You obviously agree with her, though."

Shrugging, Isis replied, "It doesn't really matter what I think, does it?"

Looking down, Seto agreed, "Finally you understand." But he didn't say it cruelly. His tone was offhand, nonchalant. Then he seemed to notice that Isis had come all the way into the library. "Did you want something?" he asked.

"Ah—no, I guess not," Isis said quietly, shrugging.

Seto was looking at her thoughtfully. Then he said, quite abruptly, "You were right."

Isis blinked in confusion. "I was…?"

"When you said he cared about her. He loved her."

"Oh." Isis let her mind process this information, then asked, "How can you tell?"

Seto looked away very quickly. "Just the way he writes about her," he muttered.

Isis sensed that he wasn't being perfectly truthful… but she decided to let it go. "Do you think that's why you feel like you have to research her? Because Set loved her?"

Seto scowled and turned his head sharply to look at Isis. "I'm researching her so she'll leave me alone," he said harshly. "That's all."

Surprised by Seto's sudden defensive tone, Isis didn't reply for a second. When she did, it was in a gentle voice. "It's very hard for you, isn't it?"

Seto glared at her, but his eyes softened when they met her sympathetic ones. "It's annoying, to say the least."

Isis nodded, and then looked down. "You probably won't believe me…" she said quietly, "but I know the feeling. I was terrified the first time I received a vision from the Millennium Tauk." She raised her eyes slowly. Seto was staring at her with disbelief and his usual scorn, but he was curious too. Softly, Isis continued, "It's frightening to know things you shouldn't, isn't it?"

She could feel Seto searching her eyes to see if she was serious, if he could trust her. As she held his gaze, her heart sped up again. Something about the moment seemed magical… Isis could feel her hand trembling; she wanted again to touch Seto, to let him know that she cared about him…

But then Seto snorted and ripped his gaze away. "Who said I was scared?" he retorted, his voice sounding oddly strained. Awkward, slightly disappointed, Isis dropped her gaze. Then Seto continued in the same strange-sounding voice, "Thanks, though." Isis's head snapped up again in surprise. Seto looked unusually vulnerable as he said, "I… I know what you mean."

Isis nodded, knowing that for Seto, such a confession was not lightly spoken; it took a lot of trust for him to say it. Thank you, Seto…

She felt her heart swell with her newly-discovered love. I could trust him too… I could tell him…! Uncertainly, she opened her mouth to speak. "S… Seto…" I love you. Seto, I love you. It would be so easy to say…

"Yes?" Seto asked casually, not even looking up fully.

"Um…" Suddenly, Isis froze and her courage disappeared. Her throat seemed blocked. She swallowed, and then said, "Do you want to eat breakfast with me?"