Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read chapter one, I was really happy that it got any reviews at all, considering what I'm known for. This story is about as far from Bound as you can get, so I'm still really uncomfortable when I think about how it's going to go over. I'm a major SetoxShizuka fan, thanks to my sister, and I hope that I've been keeping them in character.
All right, another list of Japanese name comparisons with the dub, just so people will see who is who.
Original Name (Dub Name)
Jounouchi/Kawai Shizuka (Serenity Wheeler)
Jounouchi Katsuya (Joey Wheeler)
Kaiba Seto (Seto Kaiba, big change there!)
Kaiba Mokuba (Mokuba Kaiba. Scary!)
Bakura Ryou (Ryo Bakura, again with the major differences)
Arken (Yami Bakura, Dark Bakura, etc. This is his original Egyptian name)
Honda Hiroto (Tristan Taylor)
Mazaki Anzu (Tea Gardner)
Otogi Ryuuji (Duke Devlin)
Rebecca Hopkins (Rebecca Hawkins)
Old Man Hopkins (Professor Hawkins)
Ryuzaki (Rex Raptor)
Cecilia Crawford (Pegasus' beloved Cecilia)
Rafael (Rafael. Biggest change of all.)
Valon (Varon. This could be his Japanese name too, but I like the 'l' sound better.)
Well, there. Sense galore. As new characters appear there will be new lists added. Enough with all that junk—here's chapter two!
Chapter Two: The Jounouchi Estate
"Shizuka-dono," came a quiet voice from the hallway. The young woman said nothing, but the door creaked open anyway. Ryou leaned his snowy-maned head through the doorway and spoke hurriedly. "I've finished treating the young hunter as you requested."
She gave a short nod, fingers steepled just in front of her mouth, eyes deep with thought. Ryou waited a moment more, then pulled back. "Ryou," she called. Instantly the young man reappeared, this time opening the door completely to display his entire body. She opened her mouth to continue, but halted when she found that he was no longer clad in his usual grey pants and white shirt, but instead a pair of black slacks and a turtleneck of the same color. The girl looked him up and down and raised one eyebrow.
Ryou looked down to survey what she found so interesting, and let out a short spurt of laughter. "Oh! Oh, my clothing was stained when I treated the hunter so Arken went to retrieve more for when I was done—this is what he brought me."
"And Arken is with him now?"
Ryou nodded. "Before you ask if that was a wise decision, he is under express orders not to touch him until I get back. If he lays a finger on him before then I'll know—of course—and he'll be in the dungeon for a week. Alone."
She smirked. Arken wouldn't survive a day without his companion, much less a week. She actually doubted either of them could stand being apart for more than a couple minutes. "Well, as long as you can keep him in line…"
"I am the only one who can, Mistress," he said in reply. "Aside from you."
Shizuka nodded. "All right." She waved a hand in dismissal. "Keep an eye on him until he wakes up. When he does, have my brother bring him up here for me."
Once again Ryou turned to go, this time hesitating on his own. "Anou…Shizuka-dono?" She made a monosyllabic sound of inquiry. "I've been wondering about the wound on his wrist. Did you really—"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Ryou," she interrupted. "And we were both rather desperate." The pale-haired young man nodded in understanding and closed the door at last, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts. She sighed and leaned back in her seat, straightening out her white button-up shirt and putting her feet up on the desk, swiveling her chair around until she was comfortable.
She would have to release the hunter, she had promised she would. It would be painful, certainly, but she was true to her word. At least, as far as vampires went she was honest; she didn't lie when she could help it. But to break a contract so suddenly… The young woman massaged her wrist thoughtfully, wincing at the pain that flared at the contact. A contracted servant shared everything with their master, and vice versa; as a result, Shizuka had a small wound on her right wrist that refused to heal.
She sighed again, surveying the slight gash. "Desperate times call for desperate measures," she repeated.
"Desperate is right!" Arken scoffed, looking at the unconscious young man with no little disdain. "So she actually did it, huh? After all those times she swore she never would…"
"Apparently she had little choice."
The as-yet-nameless hunter lay unconscious on the leftmost of the four beds in the infirmary, farthest from the open window. Ryou had pulled down the young man's blanket to check his vitals, giving a fair view of the hunter's torso—or at least the parts that hadn't been dressed. This position also gave both white-haired men a perfect view of the silver locket around the young man's neck, the only ornamentation remaining on his person. His crucifixes had been removed, though anyone surveying the physician and his comrade would wonder how. After all, they were Vampires as well, weren't they?
The hunter's wounded eye had been covered and bound, as well as the wrist that had been bitten, and pretty much every other joint on his body. There were older wounds as well, all of them treated—Ryou had been forced to scrape open several older wounds that had been obviously contaminated and lingered on the brink of infection—and dressed. What interested the darker of the two white-haired men were not this figure's wounds, but rather a particular series of scars along his midsection. Arken knew what wounds caused by a kick or punch looked like, and recognized the telltale discoloration of old internal bleeding. The boy's skin around his torso was patchy where he had been stricken too many times, dyeing the flesh a slightly different color, and the ragged scars around those patches only proved his suspicions.
Ryou cocked his head to one side as he pulled up the blanket to the hunter's shoulders, marking down his findings on the clipboard sitting on the bedside table. "Are you all right?" he queried, noticing his companion's silence.
The slightly-taller man nodded and averted his eyes. "I think this kid was abused," he said. "Judging by the size and style of the scars it was a man, but the lack of defensive scarring on his hands makes me curious as to who."
"His father, probably," Ryou supplied, voice dropping. His brow furrowed, brown eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "It's amazing what mortals do to each other, isn't it?" He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Arken, and gave a melancholy smile. "But people like Shizuka-dono are the ones they call monsters."
Arken was silent for a long moment before letting out a sigh and leaning back in his chair. He crossed his legs and perched one elbow on the back of the chair, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Every race has its problems," he muttered. "Our Mistress' is no different." He looked back at the young hunter. "And speaking of problems, what's she gonna do with him once he wakes up? She can't honestly want to keep him in her service—he'll kill her first chance he gets."
"Katsuya would kill him first," Ryou replied easily, sitting back down and pushing up the oversized sleeves of his turtleneck. Obviously it wasn't actually his, but Arken's; they were close in size and weight, but the more calculating of the two had unmistakably longer limbs. "And she didn't say what she's going to do. When he wakes up we are to summon Katsuya and have him bring the hunter to Shizuka-dono's office. From there…" He shrugged in elaboration.
"And until then we've got babysitting duty, right?" Ryou nodded and Arken sighed again, rolling his deep blue eyes. "It's gonna get awfully boring just staring at him for hours. Who knows when he'll wake up?"
"Or even if he'll wake up at all," came a voice from the doorway. Both pale-haired young men turned to find themselves staring at a teenaged girl, apparently a year or two older than Shizuka, with deep brown hair and bright blue eyes. Though obviously of Japanese decent, the girl spoke with an American accent. She smiled. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"
Ryou shook his head. "By no means, Mazaki-san." He gestured to another chair sitting in the corner. "Have a seat."
The girl held up one hand and politely declined. "I'm just here to deliver a message from Lady Cecilia. Valon got burned a bit on the way to Europe—wrong direction to completely avoid the sun, you know—so Her Ladyship called me out to take her reply." She smiled, eyes sliding from Ryou to the still figure on the bed. Those same blue eyes, so full of compassion, turned dark as they narrowed. "That's the one?"
Arken glanced sideways at his ward, then back to the young woman. "Yeah, Shizuka's new toy. Pretty thing, even I'll admit, but obviously not too bright. I mean, what kind of human would agree to become a Vampire's contra—"
"Arken!" Ryou interjected, eyes narrowed. He gave a meaningful glance in the girl's direction. "Are you forgetting who you are speaking to?"
Mazaki smiled and shook her head. "It's okay," she said, her voice laced with lingering sadness. "It was a long time ago; I don't mind so much anymore."
"But Anzu—"
She shook her head, trying to ignore the nostalgic melancholy chill that ran through her when the calm young man spoke her given name. It had been so long since anyone had called her that, she had almost forgotten what it sounded like. "I was the one who made the mistake back then, not him." She looked at the hunter again, forcing another smile. "I just hope this one's terms and conditions turn out better than…" She bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath. "Better than his did."
Arken smiled in return and rose to his feet, striding over to where the young woman stood. "Are you tired?" He placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned over to stand at eye-level with her. Those deep blue eyes, as close to black as Ryou's gaze, housed a glint they hadn't before—the cold edge had not been demolished, but in this young woman's presence it was considerably dulled. "There's no way you're going to make it back to Europe before the sun comes up; how about you stay here for the day?"
"I-I couldn't," Mazaki began, only to be cut off by an affectionate pat on her back.
"Of course you could—you're one of Shizuka-dono's friends from before, you're welcome any time." Arken grinned broadly and the girl's conviction bent, then broke. She let out a sigh, as though she found his insistence annoying, but her smile brightened considerably.
She nodded. "I would like that," she said softly.
Ryou smiled, eyes casting from the girl to the young man. "Arken, take her to her guest room. I will notify Shizuka-dono that Mazaki-san will be staying with us through the day." He looked back at the young woman. "I believe there is still some breakfast on the table, if you're hungry."
Mazaki gave an appreciative nod, chin-length hair obscuring her features for a moment, but said nothing. Arken and Ryou exchanged a sympathetic glance as the taller of the two led her out into the hall, hand never leaving her back; the door clicked shut behind them and Ryou let out a sigh, smile fading as he turned to look down at the hunter. "I hate to think of what losing you will do to our Mistress," he murmured, reaching out to brush the young man's chestnut bangs from his pale face. "Contracts with humans never seem to turn out well."
He closed his deep brown eyes and leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath as he settled in for sleep. The windows were all outfitted with blackout curtains so there was no chance of any sunlight leaking into the room, but Ryou still found himself wary of sleeping in the infirmary. The last time he had had been years ago, and that remained the darkest time of his life—indeed, in the lives of many members of Shizuka's court. He had never seen so many Vampires cry.
As these thoughts and tarnished memories drifted around in his half-exhausted mind, Ryou found himself drifting off to sleep.
"We're losing him, Ryou!" the young man hollers, his deep blue eyes wide. The cloth in his hands is soaked crimson through and through, staining his pale fingers the color of garnet.
The other young man, white-haired like his companion but brown-eyed, grinds his teeth. "Everybody stand back!" he commands. The crowd gathered around the bleeding figure on the table recoils immediately, though none leave the room. That's dangerous—the scent and sight of so much blood is likely to drive any of them into a frenzy any moment. The brown-eyed man doubts he has ever seen so much blood before, and all from one small human. "Clear!" he shouts, holding the defibrillator pads in his hands against the brown-haired youth's chest. The boy convulses as the machine crackles, but once the electricity abates he is still once more.
"Come on, kid," whimpers the young blond man standing just behind the white-haired physician. His brown eyes are narrowed and the barest hint of scarlet tears stain the corners of his eyes. "Come on, don't leave her now…"
"Clear!" the physician yells again. Again the machine shoot a jolt of electricity through the still young figure on the table, and again he lies still. Grinding his teeth, the white-haired man throws the pads aside and presses both bloody hands to the boy's chest. "One, two, three, four," he presses in time with his counting; upon reaching ten he leans down, pressing his mouth to boy's, and exhales deeply. The wounded figure's chest rises, but he does not stir. There are tears in the doctor's eyes now as well, a shimmer of liquid brighter than his gaze and hot again his skin.
He tries again. "One, two, three…"
The other white-haired young man stares as his comrade repeats this process over and over, each time his motions becoming more unsteady, his fingers fumbling to plug the bloody boy's nose as he forces air into his lungs. "Ryou," the blue-eyed man says softly. Those eyes, already almost black in color, are even darker with pain.
"One, t-t-two…thre…three…" He chokes off a sob, his breath ragged.
"Ryou," his comrade repeats. He places a hand on the other white-haired figure's shoulder, the touch tentative. "Ryou, he's gone."
The physician slaps away his companion's hand and shouts. "No! He can't be—I've never—" He looks between the youth on the table and his comrade, eyes wide with disbelief, face drawn and haggard. "I-I've never…" He bites his bottom lip and a shudder runs through him. He is silent for the space of a heartbeat.
The taller white-haired man is ready when his companion collapses against him, sobbing into his chest, hands curled into fists. The smaller figure screams and weeps and shakes with wracking sobs; the longer-limbed young man keeps his arms wrapped firmly about his comrade's shoulders, eyes closed and head bowed, expression angry and broken.
Slowly the reality of what has happened here sinks in, and the rest of the crowd begins to cry. One figure inparticular, however, a young woman with brown hair and deep blue eyes, simply stares at the now-dead youth laying before her. Her eyes are wide and blank, though there are scarlet tears shining in them. She whispers, "No…" and takes a halting step forward, hands outstretched.
She touches the boy's face, brushing his hair back from his eyes—it is affixed to his skin with drying blood, and she has to break the scarlet mess to complete her task. "R-Ryuzaki?" she rasps. "Ryuzaki?"
A black-haired young man with bright green eyes comes forward out of the crowd. "Mazaki—"
"Ryuzaki? Ryuzaki, wake up!" she says, her voice raising in volume and growing more ragged with each word. "Ryuzaki!" The black-haired young man wraps his arms around her shoulders and midsection and pulls her back. She struggles, but cannot pull away. "Ryuzaki!"
Ryou started back to wakefulness as a cold hand touched the back of his neck. He opened his eyes and lifted his head, wondering when he had laid it down, looking up to see Arken smiling down at him. "This is hardly a place to be sleeping," he smirked.
The young man yawned and leaned back, chair creaking. "I'm supposed to stay with the hunter," he said softly, reaching up to rub one eye. "Shizuka-dono's orders, remember?"
Arken resituated himself so he was perched on the edge of the hunter's bed, arms folded over his chest. "You're going to hurt yourself if you sleep in here today," he said.
"I'll be fine," he assured his near-twin, gesturing around the room. "Blackout curtains, air conditioning," he poked one of the guardrails on the bed, "a call button—what more could I ask for?"
"There are too many memories in this room and you know it," Arken asserted. "You'll have nightmares again, and I don't want to deal with you waking up screaming every night so soon after we got you calmed down."
Ryou slanted him a dark look. He had stopped having nightmares almost four years ago, so it wasn't as recent an occurrence as his companion insinuated. Of course, he had just had the first one in all those years, and it just happened to be while he was asleep in the infirmary… He sighed. "Maybe you're right," he conceded. "But someone needs to watch him while we're sleeping."
Arken took hold of the smaller man's arm and helped him to stand. "I'll call for one of the maids, or maybe Rebecca."
"It should be a man."
The blue-eyed young man arched one snowy eyebrow, mouth cracking open to display his teeth in a wicked half-grin. "Oh, what, are you afraid Ribbon is going to have her way with him while he's asleep?" The merest thought of the young woman doing such a thing was absurd, to actually hear that thought spoken made Ryou laugh.
He shook his head. "No, of course not!" he assured his comrade as they headed for the door. "I'm afraid he'll slit the poor girl's throat if he wakes up before we do."
At that Arken stopped walking, in turn stopping Ryou. He thought for a moment, lips pursing slightly, and touched his tongue to one of his teeth in an aloof habit. "Hm," he said, as though it explained everything. "You may have a point. I'll have the old man watch him, then."
"He has work to do during the day."
"His granddaughter can do it."
Ryou slanted his comrade a look that said, quite clearly, that he was a moron. "I, for one, would like see Rebecca manage to dust the curtains in spite of the fact that she is so small she can barely reach the ropes to draw them in the morning."
Arken shrugged. "She'll figure something out, she's a smart kid."
The smaller of the two men knew that he could still win this argument, but didn't bother to keep up to attempt anymore. He was too tired, his vision blurry, and the memory of Mazaki Anzu's voice screaming that dead boy's name over and over still rang through his mind. He shivered, and Arken looked down at him with concern.
"Are you all right?" he asked, voice laced with true consideration. Ryou knew he was one of two people in the entire world Arken actually worried about, and smiled at the young man's words, giving a slow nod. Arken didn't seem to buy into his feint, but sighed and rolled his eyes instead of inquiring further. "All right, be that way. I'll find out later anyway."
They continued down the hall in companionable silence.
When Ryou woke up at noon screaming at the top of his lungs, Arken was there to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pull him back down against the pillow, murmuring into his snowy hair that everything was all right.
The first sensation Seto registered as he drifted to the land of the living was pain. Pain in his head, centered behind his right eye; pain in his chest, particularly around his ribcage; pain in his knees and elbows, his feet and hands. New pain and old pain mingling together to create a sensation that was anything but pleasant, and yet extremely familiar. It was a good thing that sensation was familiar, because it was the only thing he recognized when he opened his eyes—or, rather, his eye. The right one, the one that hurt the worst out of any of his injuries, was covered by some material proven to be gauze and medical tape to his probing fingers.
"Oh, so you're finally awake!" chimed a voice to his right, the hunter's blind side.
Seto painfully tilted his head, looking away from the pale grey ceiling, to see a young man with white hair sitting next to his bed. The man was smiling broadly, seeming genuinely happy that he had regained consciousness, and his nearly-black eyes sparkled. The man was dressed in common clothes—a pair of dark grey pants and a white t-shirt—but the snowy shade of his hair and porcelain complexion of his skin proved that he was anything but common. For all appearances, the young man wasn't much older than Seto, if any at all, but there was wisdom in his deep brown eyes that made the hunter's head reel.
"Oh, goody," came a significantly lower voice to his left. Now Seto turned to find another white-haired young man, this one sitting with his chair backward, arms folded over the back. His eyes, too, were nearly black in their darkness, but where the first man's had been brown underneath the shadow this man's were blue. His smile, also, was different—dark and tinged with malice. He clearly did not want Seto here, but wasn't going to upset his cohort by showing it.
The young man looked between the two white-haired figures and then shook his head lightly, holding a hand over his operable eye. "I don't think I can handle this," he muttered.
A moment passed in tense silence. "Oh!" said the happier young man. "Do you think you're seeing double? You're not, I promise."
Seto looked out from between his fingers, looking his impromptu companion up and down. "Twins?" he inquired at last.
The lankier man cackled. "Me and Ryou?" he scoffed. "Hell no."
"But—"
"There is a resemblance, we understand that," said the first man, apparently Ryou. "But no, we are not related. Not in the sense a human would understand, in any case." He turned his dazzling smile on his near-twin of a companion, and the man shrugged.
Seto let out a sigh and closed his eye, allowing himself to sink back against the bed in which he lay. It hurt to breathe. "Where…am I?" he inquired, voice a dry whisper. The other man, the one who wasn't Ryou, laughed and asked if he had forgotten; the hunter struggled to recall. He remembered sleeping in the forest on the outskirts of the city, leaving his bedroll behind when he went hunting, walking through the city… "There was a girl," he murmured. "She was being attacked. By rônin." Ryou nodded as the young man continued. "I tried to fight them off but there were just too many, they kept coming and kept coming."
Another moment passed, then Seto sat bolt upright. "She was a Vampire!" he shouted, before the pain in his side flared and caused him to double over in a coughing fit. Ryou placed a hand on his back and patted softly until the gags and chokes subsided, and when Seto was still once more the snowy-haired young man took hold of the hunter's shoulders and pushed him back down to his pillow.
"You shouldn't push yourself—your body's under a lot of stress right now." Seto let out a sigh and allowed himself to be lain down properly again, closing his eye. "Did you know half of your wounds were infected? We had to scrape them open and treat them properly."
That explained why he was in so much pain. Seto turned his single sapphire eye on the apparent physician again and swallowed thickly. "You didn't answer," he said. Ryou arched both eyebrows and cocked his head to one side. Seto took a deep breath. "Where am I?"
"Oh, that," he said softly, averting his eyes. He took a breath and stood up straight, as though steeling himself for a blow. "You, young hunter, are currently on Jounouchi Shizuka-dono's estate on the east outskirts of Domino."
"Consider yourself lucky—there hasn't been a human male here aside from the old man in years," said Ryou's darker-voiced lookalike. "If Katsuya and the rest had their way you wouldn't be here at all. You've got a lot of competition, you know."
Seto arched the one eyebrow that didn't scream in pain as he turned to look at the slightly-older man. "I beg your pardon?"
Ryou pulled Seto's blankets back up around his shoulders, fussing around as though he were tucking in a little kid for the night. "Oh, don't listen to Arken. He's still feeling bad that he wasn't there to protect the Mistress." The young man sighed. "If he keeps it up like this he'll never forgive himself."
"Hey, my uncertainties aren't the issue here," Arken warned, rising to his feet. He pointed down at the hunter. "I'm not the only one who thinks it's kind of dangerous to have a Vampire Hunter on a compound belonging to a Vampire. In close proximity with that Vampire's overprotective brother and his obsessive friends, I might add."
"They're your friends too," Ryou asserted.
"That's not th—"
The sound of someone clearing their throat broke off the relative argument in an instant, and all three young men turned to the doorway. The door was wide open and standing just outside it was a tall, bronze-haired man, at least two years older than Seto. His eyes were brown and sharp, glittering with the residual light of his smirk as he glanced between Ryou and Arken. "I hate t'intrude, you guys know how much I love watchin' you bicker," those eyes slid from the white-haired figures to the bandaged young hunter, "but if he's awake then I gotta take him t'see Nee-san."
Ryou took a step forward as Arken snickered, sinking back down into his chair, which had somehow been turned properly around in the time since he rose. The taller man hung his arms over the back of the chair and sent a dark look to Seto; the hunter merely blinked in reply.
"He is in no condition to move, Katsuya-san," he declared. "Perhaps tomorrow."
Katsuya shook his head and stepped into the room. Seto could see that he was wearing loose black slacks and a long-sleeved black t-shirt; over one arm was draped some green article of clothing, judging by the way it fell and the little bits of seam that the hunter could see it was a trenchcoat. "Perhaps," he mimicked poorly, "now, Ryou. We have our orders, and you know better than to ignore them."
Ryou looked back at Seto, brow creased. "Yes, yes I suppose so." He sighed and turned back to Katsuya. "Allow him to dress first," he commanded. "He will join you in the hall momentarily."
When the blond named Katsuya did not move after several seconds, Arken sighed and, placing a hand on either knee, pushed himself to his feet and turned to face him entirely. "He told you to step out."
"And I have my orders."
Arken stepped forward, looking just as nonchalant as he had been before. An unpleasant feeling seized in the pit of Seto's stomach, and he knew something was wrong. It was only when the tall young man had come to a stop just in front of the newcomer that the hunter placed it—when Arken moved, just then, he had made no sound. Not even the slightest scuff of shoes on tile.
The malicious white-haired man leaned in close. "Just give the guy his privacy, Katsuya. Just for a minute."
"You're wasting my time," Katsuya replied shortly, brown eyes narrowing. He spoke each word as though it were a separate entity, each one capable of ripping the slender man before him to shreds. "I'll take him to see her in boxers if that's all he's wearing."
Arken sighed and lowered his head, lifting one hand as though about to place it on the blond's shoulder. Instead, however, his pale fingers slipped around Katsuya's neck and his slender arm lifted him easily off his feet. He looked back over his shoulder at Seto with a dark grin firmly in place. "You'll have to forgive my friend, he's about to become rather indisposed." Katsuya glared down his companion's arm, eyes flashing angrily. Those eyes glowed bright red for a fraction of a second as his anger peaked; Katsuya growled deeply and bared his fangs, gripping Arken's arm with both his dark hands.
"Nee-san's hearing about this," the blond warned, voice a gravelly hiss.
"Promise?" Arken queried, arching one eyebrow and continuing to smirk. He looked over his shoulder again and waved. "We'll be in the hall." With that he took a single stride forward and closed the door behind him with his free hand.
Seto stared after them with no little awe—the blond was a Vampire, of that much he was certain, and judging by the flash of color in his eyes he was a high-level one at that. And yet this strange white-haired man, Arken, spoke to him as though he were an idiot and carried him away with all the concern of a man taking out the garbage.
Ryou disappeared behind one of the curtains—presumably separating one bed from another—and reappeared carrying a black bundle. "It's not much, but it's all we have that will fit you," he apologized. Seto opened his mouth to inquire as to what was about to happen to his escort and the white-haired man with him, but Ryou cut him off with a dazzling smile. "Don't worry about Arken and Katsuya," he replied to the unspoken inquiry, "they always act like this. They've been debating over who rightfully holds the title of Head Guard for years, this is just another one of their scuffles."
The blue-eyed young man took the offered clothing, but did not move his eyes from Ryou. A long second passed. "You work for a Vampire," he said. It wasn't a question, but Ryou nodded. "And, apparently, this place is full of Vampires." Again, he nodded. Seto narrowed his eyes. "Are you a Vampire?"
The young man was silent for a minute, eyes dark with thought, then he opened his mouth to reply. A loud thumping rang out against the door, and Katsuya's voice could be heard from beyond. "Hurry it up already!"
Ryou sighed and gave a sympathetic smile to the young hunter. "Perhaps you should do as he says. Would you like help?"
The door creaked open, summoning the attention of the young woman sitting at the desk. She lifted her head from the letter laid carefully out on the rosewood before her and found herself looking at a tall young man with deep brown hair and eyes to match. He bowed in the doorway, sand-colored trenchcoat flowing around him with the motion. "Hiroto-kun," she said softly, surprised. She hadn't seen Hiroto in almost a week—he was supposed to be on vacation with the Head Maid, Ribbon. "What is it?"
"Your brother just sent word that the hunter has woken up," the young man said quietly. "He'll be here shortly." The young woman nodded and turned to look back down at the letter Mazaki had brought. "…Shizuka-dono?" She lifted her head once more to find the man fidgeting in the doorway.
"What's wrong?"
"I was just…the guys and me…we…" He swallowed heavily and lifted his brown eyes to meet hers once more. "Shizuka-dono, why did you choose him to make a contract? The rest of us are more than willing to give ourselves over to you completely." He squinted, eyes distant, and shook his head slowly. "It doesn't seem fair."
She sighed and leaned back in her seat; it swiveled slightly to one side from the shift of weight. "Hiroto-kun," she said, picking her words carefully, "I didn't have much choice in the matter. He saved my life before he even knew my name—that should be reason enough for you to trust him."
He shook his head. "He's a hunter, Shizuka-dono. He's spent his entire life killing our kind for no reason other than the fact that he thinks we're evil. He doesn't know you, he doesn't know the dangers you're put through, he wasn't there when you were—"
"Hiroto!" she snapped, silencing him immediately. He lifted hi eyes to meet hers and found them blazing. "I had no choice in this matter and neither did he—he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all. I did not choose him because it was what I have always wanted, I chose him because he was there."
The young man clenched his hands into fists. "A-And if it had been your brother? What if Katsuya had been there, or even Ryuuji? Or…me?" The young woman blinked, not quite understanding what he was implying. Hiroto took a deep breath and bowed his head, shoulders slumping. "I-I loved you first, Shizuka. I-I've always—"
"Please don't," she said, her voice a low whisper. Hiroto lifted his gaze again to find his mistress with her head bowed, auburn hair obscuring her features. "Please, Hiroto-kun, not now." She swallowed thickly, closing her amber eyes. "Go to Ribbon," she commanded.
"But Sh—"
"Leave."
Her voice was sharp, the single word more scathing than any insult or physical wound. Hiroto ground his teeth and lowered his head, bowing low. "Yes, Mistress," he muttered, backing out the open double-doors.
Those doors swung shut, almost as though of their own accord; when the lock clicked Shizuka slumped down against her desk, hair flowing out behind her like woven silk. Scarlet tears stained the paper sitting in front of her and her shoulders shook with sobs. Why did he have to be like that? It wasn't as though she had had any other choice—surely he would rather see her alive with some human as her contracted servant than dead at the hands of a rônin horde.
She curled both hands into fists, long fingernails digging into her palms with the ease of miniscule blades. She smelled the acrid aroma of Vampire blood and ground her teeth, lip curling in distaste. She repositioned her fingers to touch the tiny wounds with their tips and the cuts sealed over instantly.
A faint knock rang out on the door and she lifted her head hastily, wiping one hand across her eyes to rid them of her garnet tears. "Yes? Who is it?"
The door swung open and a petite blond leaned in. The girl couldn't have been much older than thirteen, and a small thirteen at that—her shoulder barely rose over the ornate golden door handle. A faint spray of freckles littered her nose and cheeks, making her appear rather childish, but the depth in her gaze and deep-set sorrow in her features quickly cancelled out any lingering immaturity displayed by such a feature. Her blue eyes, though pale in color behind her half-moon glasses, were dark with concern. "Shizuka-dono, Mazaki-san is awake," she said quietly. "Would you like to see her?"
Shizuka shook her head. "Later—I have a matter to attend to at the moment."
The girl pushed the door open entirely and swept her long golden hair over her shoulder. She, like everyone else on the estate save Ryou and Shizuka, was garbed in black from head to toe: A long sleeved, button-up black shirt covered her torso—and thus the scarring that Shizuka knew to be there—and tucked into a pair of tight black pants. In turn, the girl's slacks were tucked into a pair of heavy black boots, decorated with two silver buckles over the laces. Around her neck she wore a black choker extremely similar to a collar, complete with a chromium buckle, and identical ornaments adorned either wrist, holding her loose sleeves in place.
"It's about the hunter, right?" she ventured, cocking her head to one side. "The one in the infirmary."
Shizuka arched one eyebrow. "And how would you know about that?"
"Mazaki-san slept in my room yesterday," she said easily, shrugging, "and she mentioned him. She doesn't approve, you know." Shizuka nodded in understanding while the girl continued. "Mostly, though, it's because Arken called me and Grandpa out to watch him while he and Ryou-san slept."
"Ah," the amber-eyed young woman breathed. She locked gazes with her young assistant and smiled. "Yes, this matter involves the hunter. Tell Mazaki that I'll meet her in the main hall in an hour or so. Until then…give her something to drink—she's probably starving."
The blond girl giggled. "Raiding the fridge as we speak, Mistress. I'll go let her know." With that she turned and walked out, closing the door behind her. Shizuka watched her go with a smile—Rebecca's presence always cheered her up. She wondered how she had survived before the little girl came to live with her. It had already been five years, hadn't it? She had grown so much in those few years, overcoming the pain that initially landed her in this place to become a determined, strong young woman. She was going to make some man very, very proud one day.
And that man would probably, judging how things were going between them, be Atem's little human. Shizuka struggled to recall his name—something starting with an M? "Miku—Mo—hm." She pursed her lips and shook her head. She had only met the boy three times, and they had yet to be formally introduced. She had always thought it was because Atem preferred to have as little to do with humans as possible.
Although, come to think of it, the boy that was Atem's contracted servant—his younger brother or some such nonsense, a little Japanese boy named Yugi—was a human, wasn't he? Cecilia's was her husband Pegasus, a Vampire, and Darts' had been his comrade since he was a child, a boy named Amelda. Whether that particular servant was still human Shizuka was uncertain. The Vampire Lord ruling over Japan had taken a human servant as well, even if it was recently. How strange, that two out of the four Vampire Lords would have mortals as their contracted servants, and that those two would be the ones who most loathed humankind.
Shizuka had a mortal servant now, as well; Mazaki Anzu had had one once, Ryuzaki, as had the Messenger Valon—though he never mentioned the name of the poor soul he must have had one, or else he wouldn't be able to fly.
How many Vampires took humans as their contracted servants? And if they were as numerous as it seemed at that moment to Shizuka, why did the practice seem to be so looked down upon? It didn't make sense.
She sighed and shook her head, ridding her mind of such confusing thoughts and proceeding to clear off her desk. It would have to be clear when the Hunter, Kaiba Seto, came in, for more reasons than just to keep him from seeing what contacts she had in the world.
Seto opened the door and stepped out into the hall, pausing when his bare feet touched the soft maroon carpeting. He had wished he had been given shoes when he was stepping on tile, but now he was glad for their absence. It had been a long time since he set foot on a carpeted floor that wasn't soaked through with blood.
The man named Katsuya stood leaning against the wall just across from the doorway. Next to him stood Arken, smiling brightly; Seto decided the white-haired man's grin was due to the numerous scuffs and abrasions visible on Katsuya's face, as well as the fact that his hair was mess and his knuckles obviously bruised. Arken, meanwhile, was entirely unscathed.
Katsuya pushed himself away from the wall and stood straight, his eyes were almost level with Seto's, but the slight difference proved that he was at least an inch shorter than the chestnut-haired hunter. "Come on," he said, waving one hand as he turned to head down the hall.
A hand brushed his shoulder, and Seto turned to see Ryou standing in the doorway, smile still affixed firmly on his features. "You'll be fine, don't worry," he assured the young man. On Seto's other side, Arked scoffed and rooled his deep blue eyes.
"Fine, yeah, right. If you call a broken bone or three fine then he's going to be downright peachy."
Seto arched an eyebrow, confused, and almost inquired what the angry young man was implying when another voice cut him off. "Hey," Katsuya hollered from his place far ahead. "Are you comin' or what?"
Taking a deep breath, Seto strode forward. His steps, unsteady at first, grew more sure as he continued forward, strength returning to his wounded limbs. He had trouble moving ahead due to another reason as well, though, and that one did not abate with continued motion. With one eye covered he completely lacked any depth perception, causing him to constantly have to calculate just how far his feet were from the floor, whether he would bump into that little table as he passed it, if leaning this far in this direction would make his shoulder brush the wall... His head spun by the time they reached the double doors at the end of the hall.
Katsuya put a gloved hand to either door and pushed, throwing them open and stepping out into the world beyond. When Seto reached the doors, a step and a half behind his escort, he stopped in dumbfounded awe. A blast of cool night air washed over him, tousling his hair, and the light of the full moon high above shone down on the magnificent sight stretched out before him.
This place—this estate as Ryou had called it, though Seto would have used the word compound—had to be at least a quartermile across, he thought as he paused on the threshold, breath caught in his throat. Katsuya, bronze hair turned pewter in the moonlight, walked determinedly forward, feet making only the slightest sound as they pressed against the grass of the courtyard. He paused when he found that he was not being followed, and turned to his ward.
Seto continued to stare about the courtyard with awe etched clearly into his features, and Katsuya smiled proudly, allowing the hunter another moment of awestruck silence before he rugged him on. "Hurry up, she's waitin' for us."
Seto started out of his reverie, looking away at last from the ornate architecture—almost Gothic in style—of the building and the dazzling stars high above, to turn back to his escort. Realizing he had let his amazement show, the young man steeled his face into a blank expression and padded out the door and down the three steps to the courtyard. There was no walkway, so the young man's bare feet pressed down only on the chill grass; the sudden damp prickle and change in temperature sent a shiver down his spine that was not entirely unpleasant.
"You're not going to be here long, so you'd better enjoy it while you can," Katsuya suggested. "This is more of the compound than just about any non-employed mortal has seen in a quarter century."
Seto did not reply, noting silently that this man used the word he would have and wondering why, but looked about the courtyard anyway. There were four buildings that he could distinguish, the ones on either side both three stories high. Attached to the left side of the building on Seto's right was a smaller, single-story structure, like a carriage house. Though smaller than the building to which it was joined, the building was still the size of a house. Turning to the structure on his left, Seto saw another such house attached to the side closest the infirmary. Interesting.
"That," Katsuya said, pointing to his right, "is the East Quarter-Estate. It belongs to the guards." He paused. "And anyone they let in." He pointed left as he continued across the lawn. "That's the West Quarter-Estate, belongin' to the mortals. The maids, the old man an' his granddaughter live there. It also has a series of guest rooms for lesser company and temporary employees." He gestured behind them. "That's the South Quarter-Estate, it holds the infirmary, the high guestrooms and one of Arken's bedrooms."
Seto blinked. The bewilderment about the fact that the building he had just left held only one of the odd man's bedrooms was enough to confuse his already addled brain, but it was dwarfed by the fact that he was being told anything at all. "You just said I'm not going to be here long—why tell me all this? It's kind of stupid, if you ask me."
The man shot an icy glare over his shoulder. "Nobody did ask you, kid. And I'm only doin' this because I was told to. Even once you're released you're going to be here for a while—wounds like that take a while to heal."
The young man looked himself up and down, brow furrowing, and looked back up at his escort with confusion. "I've had worse," he said simply, "and it always heals quickly."
"That's not what I meant," Katsuya replied cryptically.
Seto turned to look about once more, catching a glimpse of a massive, round work of architecture behind the East Quarter-Estate and a flash of color from the west side of the building they headed toward that left the impression of flowers on his mind. A garden, certainly, but what had that round thing been?
His legs began to protest and the young man quickened his pace, determined to make it across the courtyard without assistance. He ceased his childish sightseeing and came even with Katsuya just as they reached the short series of steps leading up t the door. Katsuya went ahead, throwing open the doors in much the same manner he had when they exited the infirmary wing, green trenchcoat flaring out behind him like emerald wings.
The blond held up both hands to gesture at the building they had just entered. "This is Shizuka-dono's wing, containing her office, library, court room and her chambers." On the last word he pointed to a hall that had just come up on the left, which ended in a grey door with no knob. Amidst all the Gothic and Elizabethan design, such a modern portal looked extremely odd. Seto noted the keypad placed just beside the door and arched his eyebrows thoughtfully.
"By chambers," he said quietly, looking back at Katsuya, "you mean her bedroom, right?"
"Don't even try it, kid. The door's equipped with a state-of-the-art locking system and only three people have the code on the whole compound." Seto gave a final look at the door as they passed it.
Remembering all the other 'state-of-the-art' doors he had broken through during his time as hunter, he smirked. I bet I could break that code before anyone could even call for a guard.
As though able to hear his thoughts—which wasn't entirely improbable, considering just what this man was—Katsuya glanced back at the blue-eyed, bandaged young man. "Welcome, young hunter, to the estate of Jounouchi Shizuka. I am Jounouchi Katsuya, Head Guard. If you lay one hand on my sister I won't hesitate to suck you dry."
Seto remained silent, expression stoic. Katsuya smiled and continued down the hall. After a moment more of near-silent padding down the red carpet, Seto murmured thoughtfully, "But if you were allowed to kill me you would have done it a while ago, right?" Katsuya stifled a growl. "That means you must be under express orders from Shizu-kaugh!" The last syllable came out as a strangled gasp, for Katsuya had spun around and clamped his hand over the hunter's mouth, slamming his head back against the wall and taking the rest of him with it. Seto gasped for breath through the Vampire's fingers, recalling the familiar sensation of fingers over his mouth—though back then they had been slender, feminine and much darker…
Shizuka started, eyes widening as she held a hand to her throat. She couldn't breathe; no matter how hard she struggled to inhale all that flooded her lungs was the barest hint of air. She felt something dig into her cheek, and lifted her hand to feel a small indentation in the skin on one side of her mouth, like someone was pressing their claws into her skin.
The young woman leaned over her desk, struggling to breathe, struggling for even a little more air. The wound on her wrist flared, sending lancing pain up her arm as her vision blurred and a fit of dizziness swept over her.
What… she thought, what's happening to me?
Seto clawed at the man's hand with his bandaged fingers, eyes clenched tightly shut, gasping from breath. Katsuya glared at him, teeth bared and eyes glowing bright scarlet. His pupils had tightened into slits and his skin and hair seemed considerably paler than before; his white teeth were sharper now than they had been before, and his fingernails had stretched into razor-like claws.
"You, pitiful little human," he growled, voice gravelly again and strangled with rage, "will never refer to her with such…such blatant disrespect…so long as I live." He leaned in, narrowed eyes level with Seto's one operable sapphire. "Do I make myself perfectly…completely…and absolutely clear?"
Seto struggled to nod, heart pounding so hard he feared it would burst through his aching ribs at any moment. This had to be the single stupidest thing he had ever done in his life—making a contract with a Vampire to save himself, only to be killed by her brother. It was pathetic, and Seto felt a wave of humiliation surge over his psyche. How could he ever expect to ever locate and rescue Mokuba if he was so easily bested by a guard who couldn't even use proper Japanese?
Katsuya's grip over the young man's mouth loosened. "Now, then, tell me what you're gonna call my sister."
"Shizu—" The Vampire growled, the glow in his eyes intensifying, and Seto swallowed heavily. "M-Mistress," he replied. "Mistress."
Katsuya's eyes dimmed and his claws retracted, skin and hair darkening to their initial shades as his teeth dulled back to their usual inhuman sharpness. He dropped Seto to the ground, where the young man's knees gave out underneath him, and turned away. "Good," he said sternly. "Now come on, we have to hurry."
Seto coughed for several seconds, tasting blood in his mouth and swallowing it instantly, not wanting Katsuya to smell it. It was pointless, though, because a moment later the hunter himself could smell blood, and he realized that the wounds on his chest had reopened. The bandage there felt wet underneath his black turtleneck, and he prayed it wouldn't soak through the shirt as well.
Shizuka took a deep breath as the pressure over her mouth abated, and coughed heavily. She ground her teeth as the blessed air tore through her lungs; she wouldn't have died—at least not permanently—but not being able to breathe was certainly uncomfortable.
She wondered what had happened as she reached up to massage her cheek—the marks were gone, whatever had caused them hadn't even drawn blood. The wound on her wrist still burned, and she looked down to survey it thoughtfully. Could it be…?
Seto reclaimed control of his lungs and rose shakily to his feet. If his legs had been protesting his movement as they headed across the courtyard, they were screaming against it now. He winced as he took another step, bit down the pain and stood straight.
Katsuya was watching him from several feet ahead, eyes still narrowed and features etched clearly with his disgust. Seto, upon regaining his composure, cocked his head to one side and gave the man a self-satisfied smirk. He was still alive, regardless of this Vampire's spite. He was most certainly going to throw that fact back in the blond's face.
Up ahead, Katsuya clenched both hands into fists. He had actually lost control, and with his sister's contracted servant. It was as bad as actually striking her when he struck this idiot human—she had doubtless felt some sort of rebound. The young man ground his teeth and bowed his head as he started forward again.
I'm sorry, Sis, he thought. So sorry…it won't happen again.
He hoped she heard him, but knew it was in vain. He had never had the same link with his sister as the others, Ryou inparticular. In spite of the fact that Shizuka had forged the link decades ago, and regardless of their relation, Katsuya found himself incapable of sending his thoughts along the fine thread that bound them. He sighed and shook his head, glancing back to make sure the human was following, and together they continued down the hall.
The journey they had taken from the infirmary to this door, Seto realized, had been a straight shot. Looking back the way they had come, the young hunter could see all the way down the hall to the open doors, across the courtyard to the still-open doors of the South Wing, even the single line of rosy brown that must have been the door to the infirmary. Clever architecture—no need to make any turns, specially designed for patients heading from treatment to the owner of the estate.
Even as he watched, however, that distant line diminished and was lost to sight—the infirmary door closed. Seto jerked as the double doors in that far wing swung shut as well, then the final double doors. How…? He thought, stunned. Are the doors mechanized?
Katsuya elbowed his ward roughly in the ribs—Seto was unable to bite back the cry of pain that erupted from the contact. The guard winced in time with the hunter, and pulled back immediately, as though he actually felt some remorse for hurting the younger man. Seto was confused by this, but knew better than to inquire about the Vampire's sudden change of attitude.
"Stand in front of me," the guard commanded. Katsuya removed his green trenchcoat and held it up with one hand, folding it expertly and throwing it over his arms so it draped down in the perfect center of his form. He narrowed his eyes and took a step back. "I said step in front of me." The hunter, not wanting to appear weak but likewise not wanting to be hit again, waited a moment before he took a step to his right, situating himself a step in front of the guard, and glanced back over his shoulder with his good eye. Katsuya appeared not to notice, and instead he took a long stride forward, bumping into his ward's back in a silent urge to step forward. Seto did so, hesitating again in defiance, and to his surprise the rosewood door swung open, seemingly of its own accord.
"Oh, good, you made it across the lawn!" cheered a voice from within. Ryou leaned out, smiling brightly, and Seto froze instantly in place. He couldn't help shooting a furtive glance toward the now-closed doors at the end of the hall, wondering how the pale-haired young man could possibly have reached this room before he and Katsuya. After all, when he turned to look back before stepping out the door Arken had still been leaning nonchalantly against the wall, and that couldn't have been more than ten minutes ago.
Ryou's hands, fingers curled around the edge of the door, slipped down slightly. "Well, aren't you coming in?"
"Give him a minute," Arken said dryly, pulling open the other door. "He's obviously shell-shocked." He cast his deep blue eyes on the hunter and smirked, giving a quiet chuckle. No, Arken didn't chuckle, Seto realized, he cackled. Like some sort of evil villain from an old Japanese cartoon.
Seto jerked back upon noticing the lankier of the snowy-haired duo, and looked between them with confusion. This is…odd, he thought, unable to find a word better suited to such a situation. He doubted, for some reason, that such a term existed. The young hunter closed his eyes, wincing when his bandaged eyelid screamed in pain, and took a deep breath before lifting his head once more and striding determinedly into the room beyond. Katsuya followed, exactly a step behind.
Ryou and Arken closed the doors behind them, moving in perfect time, and then turning in a mirror-image of the other to stand with their backs pressed to the red wood. They crossed their arms behind them and kept their gazes fixed on a point in the distance exactly at eye level.
As Seto walked in, he found himself in a small with walls covered in red velvet. He didn't dare examine the place too closely, not with Katsuya urging him silently to continue forward, but he supposed it was some sort of antechamber. At the end of the scarlet room, with their backs pressed to another set of rosewood doors—Why are there so many double-doors in this place?—stood two young men that Seto had not seen before. They both wore the same clothing as Katsuya, a tight black turtleneck and slacks, black boots to the middle of the calf and gloves to match, with a short series of black belts around their upper arms. The one on the left had a deep red trenchcoat throw over his left arm, and the one on the right had a pale brown one thrown over his right. Like a mirror, opposite but identical.
The young man on the right looked Seto up and down, brown eyes narrowing in something much deeper than anger—this brown-haired guard felt nothing short of loathing for the hunter. When his eyes landed on Seto's bare feet he turned to Katsuya. "No shoes?" he inquired of the guard.
"Hey, he's Japanese," said the other unnamed guard, smiling as he lifted his head at last, "cut him some slack." When his smile faded and he opened his eyes, Seto was shocked to find them an intense shade of emerald green. The tilt of those eyes spoke of a Japanese heritage, as did the hue of his skin and the depth of his long black hair, but the color was impossible. The young man cocked his head ever so slightly to one side, the long earring he wore on his left ear letting out a high pitched ring with the motion, and his brow furrowed slightly. "Japanese for sure. Nice eyes, by the way."
Seto resisted the urge to strike the young man then and there. Both his parents had been Japanese, neither of them with even a hint of foreign blood a far back as they could trace, and yet both of their children bore eyes that no Asian child could possibly have—Seto's were the color of sapphires, Mokuba's like the night sky. Back when he had been in school he had dealt with enough teasing over his eyes, he really didn't want to go through any such trials again.
But the young man with the red coat said nothing more, instead reaching over with his right hand, bending down slightly, to take hold of the golden door handle. The brown-haired guard with hatred in his eyes did the same, motions perfectly synchronized with his comrade, and they opened the double doors.
Katsuya took a step forward and Seto realized that this was a ceremony of some sort, something that had been rehearsed and choreographed until everything was in proper order. Discovering this made his stomach lurch, and he stumbled to take his proper place a step ahead of Katsuya.
In the room beyond the antechamber, there was a desk made of the same reddish wood as the doors; in either far corner of the room stood small tables of the same material, one of which held small star-shaped objects that Seto recognized as children's candy, the other bearing a tall wooden box that reminded the hunter distinctly of an obento box lunch. The bandaged young man strode in, trying to keep his breathing steady as he stared at the young woman sitting at the desk; her amber eyes remained locked with his sapphire, elbows resting on the desk and fingers steepled.
She was dressed quite differently than she had been when he encountered her on the street. Replacing her sleeveless black turtleneck she now wore a button-up white shirt with airy, loose sleeves that tightened around her wrists. Her hair had been brushed carefully into place, long bangs falling to either side of her face in perfect symmetry; just under one of those auburn lengths, however, Seto noticed a faint discoloration on her cheek. Since when did Vampires bruise?
Katsuya stopped, quite suddenly, and Seto hastened to do so as well. This left his left foot a half-step ahead of his right, a clear breach in whatever ceremony he was taking part in. He clenched his hands into fists, heartbeat quickening again, and surreptitiously pulled his left foot back until it was even with his right.
Behind him, Katsuya was unsure whether to be impressed or infuriated—the hunter had actually figured out that he was taking part in a ritual, and was doing his best to follow the proper motions. Smart kid, the guard thought, arms still folding and holding his trenchcoat, though at that moment he longed to wrap his hands around the sapphire-eyed young man's neck. Smart humans tended to last far too long for his liking.
Shizuka cast her eyes from Seto to Katsuya and gave a silent nod. The guard bowed low and backed out the doors, which closed as he turned his back on the room and rose to his full height. Thus, Shizuka and her contracted servant were alone in her office.
"Come forward, Kaiba Seto," the young woman commanded, bracing her slender fingers against the desk and rising from her seat. Seto took a deep breath and did as he was told. He had to remind himself time and again that this woman was a vampire, that regardless of the oh-so-alive flush in her cheeks and the glimmer of a living soul behind her eyes, she was a monster. She had drank his blood, hadn't she? So why was he having so much trouble keeping focused on the thought that she was evil?
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "The bond that was forged shall hereby be broken, threads of fire and blood shall be extinguished and returned to the heart from which they were taken." Shizuka let out the breath she had been holding and looked up at the hunter. "The ties that bound us together are hereby severed, cut by the hand that wove them, torn by the same strength that…" She swallowed thickly, blinking as though trying to fight off tears. "T-Torn by the same strength that would have held them together…from the moment of sworn servitude to the end of time."
She held out both hands and Seto held out his wounded hand, not quite sure why. She took hold of his long-fingered hand in her own, much-smaller grip and carefully unwound the bands around his wrist. He realized that they were both shaking, the slightest hint of a shudder turning a steady grip into a tenuous one. Baring the twin wounds in the pale skin where his hand met his arm, the girl's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second in what could only be a wince.
Seto's own eyes narrowed in confusion. She looked almost…sympathetic. Even apologetic. It made no sense, she did this regularly, didn't she? She had to drink blood to survive, probably every night, so why did she seem so sorrowful over having drank his? Was it because she had made him her servant, linked them together when she obviously didn't want such a bond?
The girl took a deep breath and leaned down, hair falling forward to obscure her features, and pressed her lips to the two aching marks on the hunter's wrist. Seto ground his teeth as the pain in those miniscule wounds escalated from a dull ache to searing agony, fire lancing through the veins of his arm and hands. Shizuka held his hand and arm tightly, keeping his wrist pressed to her mouth regardless of how he thrashed; her grip tensed, however, when the first scream tore free from the young man's throat.
Author's Note: Longer than chapter one. Sorry about that, and about any confusion caused by the description of Shizuka's estate. It was supposed to be vague because Kaiba-kun is kind of confused and still suffering from major blood loss, so he can't quite click together this and that. In any case, the compound is huge. Even bigger than it looks.
I know Anzu seemed out-of-character, I can assure you that it's intentional. There was a bit of an explanation in Ryou's dream/flashback, but it will be further explained as the story progresses. As for the character named Ribbon that Shizuka mentioned to Hiroto, if any of you have read the manga you should be able to remember the girl Honda had a major crush on and made that puzzle for. Yep, that's her. Also, in the original Toei animated series (the one where Kaiba had green hair and Shizuka's eyes were red) she was the girl that glomped Kaiba all the time. I really wanted her to die back then…but that rage has passed. (cue relieved sigh.)
