Chapter 2 – Frustration
Now we know what happened from Téa's POV. Let's see what's going on in Seto's…
Disclaimer: Don't own it, but I want to…
Rain5101 – The to-kill-ya is yours. My plot bunny makes wicked daiquiris.
And yes, Kaiba may seem a little OOC with his watching Inuyasha but that is about to be explained in this chapter.
Journal Entry
I need to get this out and the only safe place to do this is in a journal. Who am I kidding? It's a diary. And I'm forced to use a paperbound to record all of these things. The computer is most definitely in need of a new security program now that I know Mokuba, my dear sweet innocent little brother, has been hacking into it on a regular basis to try and find out what's been happening to me for the last couple of months. I must admit, though, that my penmanship could use a brush up.
Even I don't understand what's happened to me recently. That's the crux of the whole matter. The bane of my existence, the shining sunshine of my life has made its' appearance and it all comes down to a single word.
A single name, really.
Téa.
More specifically, the best friend of my greatest rival in Duel Monsters.
This wasn't supposed to happen. My life was under perfect control – my control – until she showed up early for class one day and disturbed my morning ritual.
I don't have a lot of free time to waste on frivolous activities such as shopping and video games. What little of it I do have is the hour before school starts. That's when my ritual takes place.
Inuyasha cartoons.
For some reason, it amuses me. Greatly. I was never allowed to watch cartoons as a child. My stepfather drilled into me that it was a waste of time to watch that annoying drivel on the idiot box. I was pushed relentlessly in my studies to be the best. Second place was not good enough for a Kaiba, even an adopted one.
Number one was the be all and end all of school and business. It was drilled into me so hard and for so long that I still feel guilty every morning for turning on my laptop and downloading the next two episodes for my viewing pleasure instead of checking stock quotes or working on program code. Even when I was duelling against Pegasus in Duellist Kingdom, I kept my secret hidden. I was appalled at the idea of having anything in common with that white-haired, pompous freak. But his toons were nothing like the ones that I enjoyed watching. His truly were mindless drivel, especially that stupid Mr. FunnyBunny. Inuyasha has a plot line whereas Mr. FB has nothing but cheap, slapstick pranks. Inuyasha has witty dialogue, character progression and interaction while that rabbit just prances around trying to be funny. That's why I allow Mokuba to watch cartoons, any cartoons he wants, as long as he stays away from anything that foolish and stupid. I don't want him to miss out on this part of his childhood as I did.
Then, she came in and caught me in the act of indulging myself. Embarrassment, anger and envy warred for control as I stared at her as she stood by her desk, checking out my monitor. I knew my cheeks were brighter than a sunset but I thought smugly, so were hers. It was weird. For a moment, we were nothing more than two teenagers, almost 'checking each other out' I think is the phrase. Anger finally won out as I spat, "Quit staring Gardner. Or haven't you realized that it's rude."
I never have been good at controlling my anger. It's my defence mechanism. When I don't want someone to get too close, I get mad. It's worked so far in every situation I've come across. Little did I know that that was about to change.
That's how this whole thing started. A huge disruption to my perfectly ordered life. I couldn't help but glare at her at lunchtime, before I went to the office to face the mountain of paperwork that comes by being the CEO of the largest gaming company in the world.
And that is what made me write in this journal. That and the hacking. The only reason I knew my little brother, angel that he is, had been hacking into my system was the smear of peanut butter I found on the 'ENTER' key yesterday. He's smarter than I've given him credit for. I'm just praying that he hasn't found out about this journal. The only time I write in it is when he's fast asleep and the only thing that I write about is the situation I've started with Téa Gardner.
I'm admitting it. I started it. The blame is all on me. The second morning she came in early was my undoing. I'd been hoping and dreading that she would. My thoughts on the matter were so confused but when I saw her hesitate at the entrance to the room, everything I felt coalesced and I was… glad that she'd come. I watched her from the corner of my eye as she walked to her desk. She was so pretty in the early morning sunshine. Her blue eyes shone with an inner light that I'd never noticed before and her lips… no I can't go there. I'll embarrass myself too much by saying how much I wanted to taste that mouth. Damn. I almost ruined it all when my anger took over once more at her little whispered comment of "Inuyasha again?" Her response to my sarcastic remark about leisure time activities made me smile inwardly. So, she was quick-witted, too. Not quite the dumb cheerleader.
For the next couple of weeks, we fell into a routine. She'd come in early and I'd wordlessly hand her a spare pair of ear buds to listen to Inuyasha with me. The silence between us was comfortable. I never felt that I had to say anything in her presence. Just being near her was enough for me. When the hallways outside the classroom grew more active, she'd hand the buds over and we'd ignore each other for the rest of the day as if the morning ritual never existed. I couldn't let it end there, though. Anytime I saw her between classes, I'd acknowledge her somehow, usually with a quick flick of my fingers or a glance that captured her eyes.
One morning, though, as I waited for her show up, I decided that that wasn't enough for me anymore. I wanted more from her and that was when inspiration struck like a sledgehammer. Since we really couldn't 'hang out' at school together, it would have to be something a little more private. Meeting her outside of school somewhere was also out of the question since the press would be all over me the minute I stepped outside of my house. That left one option and one option only. Her phone number. Those were the only two words I wrote on a little pad of paper that I happened to have with me. Finally, she showed up. Taking a deep breath, this was a momentous occasion for me, I handed her that little pad of paper and waited for it to be thrown at my head.
It wasn't.
She contemplated it for a moment as I tried to control the blush that was threatening full bloom on my cheeks at the slight contact of our fingers. I can't tell anyone what that did to me. Then she scribbled something down and handed it back to me. A set of seven numbers was written there in neat script and she was smiling a little as I gave her the buds and we continued with our morning ritual.
Those numbers were burned into my memory almost immediately. I couldn't wait to go home that night after work and call her. Finally, I was really going to talk to her. That was when I realized I didn't know what to talk to her about. I didn't know much about her and I was pretty sure the reverse was true as well. Too bad, so sad. That wasn't going to stop me. I am a firm believer in taking control and that was exactly what I did. A little luck wouldn't have hurt, either.
Nine pm on the dot and I couldn't take it any longer. I called her. We talked. We talked for three hours that night. About nothing in particular either. Mostly about the teachers we had in school, the homework we'd been assigned. Trivial stuff, all of it, but it was nice to share it with someone who could understand my frustration at being given work that was beneath me. She was smarter than I'd given her credit for as well.
Now, we talk about everything. There are no rules to our conversations. Whatever pops into mind is discussed enthusiastically. I have no inhibitions and I'm sure she doesn't hold anything back either. The defences that I had so carefully built to keep people away have crumbled and melted over the course of these last couple of months. When we talk, the floodgates are opened. I don't think I've talked this much to anyone, let alone my little brother. He knows that I talk to someone at night but he doesn't know who it is. I'd be a fool to let him in on that little secret. I want to keep this to myself and for myself. I just wish that one topic would come up between us. One question really. If she asked it, the response would be an immediate, undeniable, irrevocable, earth-shattering "Yes."
Every night since that first phone call, my dreams have been haunted with hot caresses and the sound of skin sliding across skin. Her voice whispers sweet nothings in my ear that drive me to the brink of madness and longing. I don't know how many mornings I've woken up, tangled and sweaty in my sheets, with the memory of her heated eyes above me and a heaviness between my thighs that refuses to be satisfied.
The glances and gestures during school, after the morning ritual, are barely enough to keep me going until that night, when I can hear her voice as she giggles at our latest crazy conversation. I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm at the breaking point.
I know her friends despise me. I'm the cold-hearted bastard, the arrogant snake, the human glacier. But she sees something else in me, something worth her attention. God knows, I need someone to take me as I am. I just wish I could let her take me in more ways than one. Damn.
I want to tell her how I feel. But that's impossible. What we share is more precious to me than anything else is in this world, except for my little brother. I can't risk losing it by broaching the subject of the feelings I have for her. I don't know if she feels the same way although almost every time I see her, there is a hopeful glint in her eye. When I call her on those nights, I want her to explain why she was looking at me that way. But, she never does and that subject is the only one I will not broach until I know for sure how she feels.
What if we could have more…? What if I asked her how she felt? Would she laugh over the phone and hang up on me? I took a chance in getting her phone number in the first place. What if this chance worked out just as well? They say you only have one chance at happiness. Maybe this is mine. Am I strong enough to ask her myself? Do I have the courage to face the possibility of this kind of rejection? Of laying my heart out on the floor for her to stomp all over, should she choose to? Control. I need to get control of myself before I go crazy. I need to get this out. I need to ask her that one all-important, all-encompassing question that has ruled my thoughts and dreams for the last two months or so. I will not be denied.
BONG…B
There's the grandfather clock downstairs. Nine pm on the dot. 996-2325…
"Hello, Téa? I… have a question to ask you…"
"Seto, that's good because… I have something… to tell you… but… you go first."
FIN
So, how did you like my one shot in two parts? Hopefully, there was enough there to explain Kaiba's love of Inuyasha. I've always pictured him as a guy that could like animé as long as it was witty and well-written. It's his only guilty pleasure.
Thanks for all of the reviews and look for Chapter 6 of "Christmas Chaos" in the next couple of weeks. Sigh, only two more chapters til it's finished. Sniff. It's been so much fun.
Aphrael21 ;)
