Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, nor do I own "I Will Remember You", which is by Sarah McLachlan.
Author's Note: Ew, school has been so evil... ((sobs)) I wasn't able to update for so long! Sorry! But here's part two of this three-part fic. Takes place in Domino, sometime after BattleCity...I think. Anyway, it's short (one part only), as I wasn't too inspired. Next part/chapter is longer. Really, it is!
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys are so awesome!
Anyway, here's the (delayed) chapter. Enjoy!
Across the Millenia
Part Two: Domino
Forgotten Memories
- - - - -
I will remember you.
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by;
Weep not for the memories.
"Wow, this is a really cool card!" Yugi Moto looked up at the semi-transparent form of the 5,000-year-old spirit that he knew as Yami. "This would really help in a tight spot, don't you think, Yami?"
Yami looked over Yugi's shoulder to examine the new card he had just received from his grandpa.
"It is indeed a powerful card, Yugi," he replied. "It will greatly strengthen your deck."
"Yeah, that's what I thought too!" said Yugi. "And look at these other ones; Grandpa gets the coolest cards!"
Yami chuckled at the younger boy's enthusiasm. "Yes, indeed. Your grandfather is a great collector of Duel Monster Cards."
"I can't wait to try it in a duel," Yugi said happily. "Maybe I could call Joey up, and we could duel just for old times' sake. All this 'saving-the-world-from-utter-destruction' has really gotten to me lately."
Laughing at the last comment, Yami shook his head. "Well, a duel with a friend is always fun. But I recommend you wait until morning before calling Joey, as it's nearly midnight. Speaking of which, shouldn't you be getting to bed?"
Yugi yawned and grinned sheepishly. "I guess I was so excited about these cards I forgot what time it was. Well, g'night. You get some rest too, Yami," he added as he flipped off the lightswitch.
"I'll try. Good night, Yugi."
Yugi yawned and mumbled something in reply as he climbed into bed. A few minutes later, he was fast asleep.
Yami stood by the desk, gazing down at the Duel Monster Cards that lay there, illuminated now by the shimmering moonlight cascading from the skylight window. Ever since Yugi had put together the Millennium Puzzle and found him, Yami had always felt just a little lost. He couldn't remember anything about his past, he couldn't even remember his real name. That sense of loss was often painful, and the only time it was alleviated in any way was when he dueled.
Yami sat down on the chair, staring unseeingly up at the skylight. The stars twinkled frostily, as the moon danced with the wispy clouds. But Yami could only see in his mind's eye as he slowly fell through his own thoughts.
Five thousand years had passed, five thousand years of anticipation, five thousand years of waiting, five thousand years of memories...lost. All of it, lost to him.
He was the King of Games, the greatest duelist in the world, the Great Pharaoh of legends. But Yami didn't know who he was. He didn't know what his life was like, he didn't know about his family, his friends, his loved ones... He didn't know himself, didn't know about what he had been like while he was alive.
He didn't even known his own name.
"What's in a name? A rose by which we call any other name would still smell as sweet..."
Yami suddenly remembered the line that Téa had quoted a few days ago, to which Tristan had stared blankly and Joey had asked if that was from some TV show.
He smiled to remember, and blinked slowly as he gazed down at his hands.
Maybe Téa was right, his name wasn't all-important. And as for who he was...he was Yami, now. He had Yugi, and Téa, Joey, Tristan...Kaiba. They were his identity now -- his friends, the most important people in his life.
"Though as for precedence..."
Glancing over at Yugi's sleeping form, Yami's quiet thoughts stirred slightly, troubled and confused.
Yugi. His best friend, his host, his partner. They were linked mentally, spiritually, and also by the deep bonds of friendship. They were open with each other, their thoughts were shared sometimes, their likes and dislikes were very much the same. However, sometimes Yami wondered just how deeply he and Yugi were connected, and just how much they influenced each other.
For instance...could Yugi sense the emotions in his heart?
It was almost ironic, that after five thousand years of this living-death, Yami was still all too human at times. He still suffered from the faults of mortality, was still susceptible to weakness and emotion.
And while the heart may have strength, it is also everyone's greatest weakness.
Yami glanced at the box resting on Yugi's table, the one that contained the Egyptian Gods. He could almost see through the frail sides, see the luminescence of the gods' power within.
Ra. Slifer. Obelisk. Their power was incredible, to experience their might was incomparable...
...only, Yami knew that was a lie. For he had felt a different sort of strength, a greater pulling, a much more irresistible power.
Even now, in the darkness of the room, where the silence was only broken by Yugi's soft breathing, Yami could see his eyes. He could see the pallor of his face, the trembling of his hands. And he could taste the victory, but also the crushing defeat that threatened to overwhelm his heart.
Seto Kaiba. The ex-world champion, Yugi's greatest rival...and somehow, the source of greatest confusion for Yami.
If he had to rank everyone he knew in order of how important they were to him, somehow, Seto Kaiba would be on top of that list. Yami couldn't explain it, and most of the time he just didn't think about it. But in the quiet hours of the night, when there were only shadows to haunt him and keep him company, his thoughts always turned to him.
Just what was it about Kaiba that made him haunt his thoughts? He couldn't tell, he wasn't sure if he wanted to think about it consciously. It was disturbing, to be sure. This...attraction. Was it him? Was it Yugi influencing him?
No, that couldn't be it. Yugi was definitely straight. Yami had sensed it in the way he was so unconsciously protective and supportive of Téa, sensed it in the way he only felt friendship for the other guys.
But then...
Yami propped his elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand. His eyes were a deep violet in the darkness, and as he gazed upward at the stars, the frosty-white lights were reflected in his dark eyes.
Five thousand years. Everything had changed...but perhaps some things were eternal, some things were just meant to be.
The stars were still there, they still watched silently over humankind.
And, though he didn't consciously know it, after five thousand years, Yami's heart remained true to his one love.
Some things are just meant to be. Eternity chosen, never to be shaken...
The computer screen glowed as figures and statistics flickered across the document. Seto Kaiba was watching the latest report with only half an eye. It had been a long day, but the troubles just didn't end for him. Each time he finished one task, two more appeared, and each one seemed to require immediate, executive attention.
In other words, everything got landed on his plate. Seto Kaiba, CEO.
At the moment, all Kaiba wanted to do was shut off the damned laptop and take an aspirin or two (or three) for his headache. But neither of his wishes seemed capable of fulfillment, as the siuation really did require his attention, and the bottle of aspirin in the bottom drawer of his desk was empty. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was already midnight; he'd been in the office for over fifteen hours, now.
Bestowing the laptop with a trademark Glare of Hate, Kaiba returned his attention to the rest of the report.
Suddenly, a high-pitched trill shattered the silence and made him jump. Fumbling in his pocket as his headache doubled, Kaiba's jaw clenched in frustration, and his eyes narrowed. Mokuba must have been playing with the ringtone on his cell phone, again.
He flipped open the phone. "Seto Kaiba," he said monotonously.
"Seto? Are you still at the office?"
"Mokuba?" He was surprised. "Why are you still up?"
"I was waiting for you," came the reply. Mokuba sounded tired, and more than a bit cranky. "You promised to come home for dinner, remember?"
Oh. Crap.
"Look, Mokuba, I'm sorry," he replied tiredly. "But a lot of things came up. Get some sleep, kiddo. I promise to be home soon."
"Where have I heard that before?" Mokuba muttered sarcastically. "Well, see you then. And you'd better be home by the time I wake up."
The elder Kaiba smiled despite himself. "Alright. Good night, Mokuba."
"Bye."
Placing the phone back into his jacket pocket, Kaiba sighed as he returned to the hateful computer screen. As he began to type, he gave the report a glare. This had better work, he thought venomously. If another problem comes up, someone is going to die...
...Someone. Who?
Who knows? And who cares? he thought cynically. But his mind answered back anyway, though it felt like someone else was speaking.
Mokuba would care. And you used to care, once upon a time, when your heart wasn't dead...
Damn it, I don't need a lecture! This...it's like...like something stupid, deluded Moto would say!
But was that so bad...? Yugi Moto always managed to annoy the heck out of him, but the guy wasn't all that bad...sometimes. Namely when he was dueling. It was odd, and maybe Kaiba was just hallucinating, but when that punk dueled, he grew at least two inches. And his voice dropped about three octaves.
It was creepy, the way his voice grew deeper, more powerful...seductive.
Kaiba froze.
Oh. My. Freaking. Gods. I did NOT just think that!
If his pride would have allowed it, he would have banged his head against the desk right there and then. But as it was, Kaiba quickly composed himself -- at least on the outside -- and turned back to typing furiously.
But the thought seemed to have caught.
Kaiba's jaw clenched.
Damn it, I will NOT think about Moto. For crying out loud, the guy's two inches shorter of a foot! He's got that weird hair, and the stupid friends, and the most annoying, aggravating way of goody-two-shoe-ness that can drive ANYONE up a wall.
...But, Moto wasn't like that when he dueled.
Okay, so he was still a goody-two-shoes, but he seemed different. Darker, somehow. It was like he became someone else. Someone that Kaiba could respect, and possibly -- just possibly -- consider as something other than his inferior.
Maybe.
Or maybe he already did...?
He mentally slapped himself. This train of thought was going nowhere...except back to where it started, and Kaiba was bent on avoiding going there. Ever. He'd rather wear pink for an entire week than admit he'd thought of Moto as...as...
Kaiba shut his eyes tightly, wanting to seriously hurt himself.
Fuck.
...Wrong thing to think. His instinctively sarcastic genius suddenly decided to kick in, and Kaiba stopped typing as his hands clenched into fists.
No. You will not think about that...fuck...No, not again! No, no, nononono... Screw you, Moto!
Unfortunately for Seto Kaiba, the last thought gave way to an exceptionally disturbing thought.
What is wrong with me? he thought, wanting to scream in frustration.
Now, not only did he have a pile of work to finish before daybreak (and the impending doom that meant, if Mokuba found he'd stayed in the office until dawn), he also had to deal with...with...his sexual orientation?
Oh, how much better the world would be if only Yugi Moto had never come into his life!
...Then again, did he really think that?
At this point, Kaiba was just too tired to continue mentally mutilating himself for thinking these thoughts. He needed a distraction. He kept seeing a certain pair of violet eyes, kept thinking...thinking...
You don't want to think about Moto, he told himself sternly. You want to shut down this damned laptop, and the way to do that is to give your attention to the report, however stupid and aggravating it might be. Report. Concentrate. That's better...
Two hours later, Kaiba finally walked out of the office. Everything was settled, finally. He was annoyed, he was tired, and he was very sure that he now resembled a living ghost. That was an oxymoron, but in his current state he couldn't be bothered to care. He didn't want to care, he didn't want to think.
Because he was afraid his thoughts might return to a certain unsavory topic...involving a certain person.
Damn. He really needed that aspirin.
At least the limo was ready and waiting for him by the time he reached the bottom floor. Kaiba wondered vaguely, as he got into the car, whether Roland was as tired as he was.
Hopefully, he's more awake than me, since he's driving...
The town was asleep at this hour, and as the limo passed street after silent street, Kaiba had to fight off the urge to fall asleep right there in the car. Not that it would matter really, as it was unlikely Roland was kidnap him (right?), but Kaiba had a reputation to keep up, and falling asleep in the car was a show of unacceptable weakness.
Doubly so since it was a freakish report that had caused him this much stress. And also... Though he'd never admit it, Kaiba was more than a little afraid of what his dreams would reveal. He didn't dream too often, under these conditions Kaiba really didn't want to test how good his control over his thoughts were while half-unconscious in sleep.
Suppressing a yawn, Kaiba blinked to clear his hazy vision and stared out the window. Resisting the urge to rest (or whack) his head against the cool windowpane, he tried to concentrate on the passing scenery. There wasn't much to see, just row after row of buildings and houses, swathed in darkness...
Darkness...silence...sleep...Moto...
Kaiba mentally slapped himself. Stay awake, you idiot!
"Roland, turn on the news," he ordered.
"Yes, sir." Roland's tone was just as monotonous as his own, and while Kaiba usually would have taken this as a sign of undermining his authority, at the moment, he could care less.
As the buzz of static was quickly replaced by a man's voice wearily drawling on about recent events, Kaiba pinched the bridge of his nose. His headache wasn't getting any better, and the stupid news reporter was actually helping his sleepiness.
Damn.
Staring out the window again, Kaiba fell back on a desperate course of action. Count random objects as they passed by the car window.
Good lord, that sounded stupid, even in his mind.
But for the lack of any better idea, he sighed inwardly and began to mentally tally up the number of windows on the buildings. It should have been impossible, it would have been impossible for most people, except for two things: Kaiba was Kaiba, genius, stubborn, the one-and-only, and also, he was only counting the windows on the first floors of buildings.
27...28, 29, 31...32...33,34,35,36,37, holy crap, this building has a lot of windows...38, 39...
...47.
Wait a minute, 47 doesn't come after 39.
Luckily, they'd already reached the mansion by then, and Kaiba was spared the further confusion and humiliation for his lack of counting abilities due to lack of sleep. As he got out of the car, he only hoped that a sound, four hours of sleep would make him forget everything that had transpired tonight. Along with all the disturbing thoughts.
Hopefully, the said thoughts were just side-effects of fatigue, and not anything more serious.
In a half-daze, Kaiba managed to get to his room, deposit his briefcase on his desk, hang up his jacket, and close the door. Later, he was somewhat amazed by the fact that he'd managed to do all that in the dark without tripping or knocking over anything.
As he fell into his bed, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was already three in the morning. He had to get up at six tomorrow, for an early meeting.
The world hates me, Kaiba thought, turning over with a muffled groan.
He blinked, staring into the darkness without really seeing anything. Hate. There were a lot of things and people that he hated, and he knew there were a lot of people that hated him. But sometimes, he wondered just who really hated him...
For instance, did Mokuba hate him?
He didn't know why he was thinking of that, it was irrational, it was way too late at night for clear thinking... But he kept thinking of the way Mokuba avoided his eyes sometimes, like back on KaibaCorp Island. That moment when he'd ordered Mokuba to detonate the island, and he'd just turned away.
Of course, later, everything had gone back to normal, and the past was the past...
Except now, he couldn't get Moto out of his head.
Instinctively, Kaiba buried his head into his pillow, trying to shut out his own thoughts. But they wouldn't leave him alone. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Part of it was probably because of his analytical skills and stubbornness -- he wouldn't give up until he knew the answer, wouldn't give up until he had it all clear.
And right now, everything was gray.
Or gay, as he was most likely...
Damn, stop thinking about that! But his mind refused to cooperate.
Who was Yugi Moto to him, anyway? A funky-haired kid, barely half his height, and a second-rate duelist who'd somehow managed to beat him. Repeatedly.
It was humiliating. He should have just ignored it after the first time. He should have known better after the second time. But he just couldn't shake that...obsession. He had to beat Yugi, he had to. It was like his life depended on it. He couldn't rest until he did.
And somehow, somewhere along the way, that obsession had apparently twisted around on itself...and produced this.
So now Seto Kaiba was lying in bed, at 3:17 in the morning, frustrated, confused, and unable to sleep.
He could see those eyes looking at him, could feel the intensity in that gaze. He could feel an emotion, an instinct stirring deep inside him. In his heart, which he thought had long since died, Kaiba could feel the stirrings of longing...and pain. It was as though his heart was crying.
The cheesy, boringly poetic-ness of it all was enough to make his gag. But it felt like the truth.
It felt...nostalgic, somehow. Like a half-forgotten memory, something that was feebly awakening, but unable to fully come into the light and be recognized. That was how he felt. That was the sensation he now experienced, as his mind lingered on his rival.
So now I'm gay? he thought. It should have been bitter, sarcastic at the least, but it turned out to be a whispered thought, contemplative, quiet, and just a bit wistful.
Maybe it was the insomnia talking, but suddenly, Kaiba didn't care. His analyzing had produced an answer, and while a small corner of his mind protested this new development, most of him was just relieved that he could finally let it rest.
...Right?
He was still awake, lying there in the darkness, listening to his own heart beating as he wondered...wondered what Moto was doing right now.
Probably asleep, like I should be.
But even his sarcasm was letting out now, as emotional exhaustion took over.
The choices were clear, it was almost as though he was standing in a darkened space with a door in front of him. A small ray of light shimmered behind the keyhole, luring him in. His choice then... Reach out, and open that door, or remain stubbornly locked in the darkness.
How was anyone supposed to choose, and retain his sanity? He hated the darkness, it caused his only pain and confusion. But that door, while tempting, held a greater fear...a fear that what he would find would break him.
Whether it was due to insomnia, confusion, stress, or just plain arbitrary human instinct, Kaiba was suddenly subject to a weakness he thought he'd outgrown at the age of ten.
Seto wished he could cry.
Gaah! That was so unbelievably horrible. I wish I could say I didn't write that...but unfortunately, that would be a lie. I guess my only shot at redemption would be to revise the next chapters very carefully, and make sure they're better.
Sumimasen! Hope you didn't hate chapter too badly.
Next chapter, moving onto the AU part of the fic: we're taking a trip to Chicago!