Author's Notes:

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews! Uhh, I shouldn't have said anything about Chapter 7…Now you think Chapter 8 is so much better. I can't make any promises, you know. Me liking it doesn't say anything about its quality. Chapter 9 is actually going to be the last one, and it's already written. –winks- Not much more to say this time.

Oh, I have no idea if Japanese people listen to Jazz. But it's too late for that kind of thought anyway.

Chapter Disclaimer:

A festival and a song are mentioned in the end – they belong to me.

8. Sleepless

The house was quiet, even more so than usual. Mokuba's spacious room was empty, he had unexpectedly already left for school despite the early hour. The maid who helped clean the house when both Kaiba brothers were out would not be there for another two hours. It was a dark morning of grey cloudy skies and even turning on the kitchen lamp made the room no brighter.

Nothing could lift this heaviness that had settled upon his house a mere week ago, when he had returned from the park, furious in his helplessness, wavering between burning rage at himself and the nagging painful fury at the one who had left him so.

Seto didn't eat any breakfast this morning, he didn't even drink coffee, telling himself stubbornly that he didn't need it. After all he didn't need anything, didn't need anybody. After all he loved the silence of his house, the comfort of total quiet, the blanket of loneliness wrapped protectively around his body.

Per remote control he shut the doors of the mansion while he was getting into the limousine, white trench coat carelessly thrown over his shoulders. The air outside was suffocating in anticipation of a thunderstorm and he gladly shut the door behind himself.

The silence in the limousine remained heavy, and shutting out the oncoming storm did nothing to make his heart lighter. If anything, the narrow space intensified the feeling of being trapped. Inexplicably he felt the urge to talk to a human being and pressed the intercom button. "Isono?"

"Sir?", came the answer.

Seto thought for a second. "Should there still be a thunderstorm in the afternoon, I would ask you to pick Mokuba up after school. Should he want to stay with his friends, tell him they are allowed to come to the mansion as well – as long as the second floor stays off limits. Thank you."

"Very well, Sir" With a clicking sound the link shut down and silence fell again, a little less heavy than before.

Eventually they reached the huge Corporation building and a few minutes later Seto stepped out of the elevator, opening the door to his office. His secretary greeted him cordially and he remembered his intention of smiling at her more often. Nodding his head he let his lips be pulled into a polite smile for a second.

As the security guard standing next to his office helped him out of his coat, his secretary recited his schedule for him and, after a small pause, added, "There is a young man waiting for you, Mr Kaiba. He doesn't have an appointment but he claims his business is important and that he travelled the whole night to get this chance to speak to you. We can send him away anytime, but we came to the conclusion that it would be better to leave this decision up to you."

Seto sighed. His schedule was crammed with urgent meetings which meant he would have to give up a coffee break to fit this one in. On the other hand, he didn't need coffee after all, and this mysterious man intrigued him. "Send him in", he decided shortly, grabbing his briefcase, and disappeared into his office.

Carefully he took his seat behind his office desk, staring out of the window. Outside dark clouds were drawing together into one huge mass of thunder and lightning, like an angry god roused from an age-long sleep.

With the first distant thunder the door to his office was forcefully pushed open. With confident, elegant strides of barely restrained power a young white-haired man strode into the room. Seto knew that face, knew the dark eyes and the wild hair, and he instantly remembered the fitting name.

"Bakura Ryou", he greeted, pleasantly surprised, and got up from his chair.

The other man didn't answer immediately but walked closer until he was standing directly in front of him, barely two steps from the desk that separated them, and only then did Seto notice an entirely unfamiliar expression on the other's face.

This impression intensified even as the other replied with a smirk lacking any kind of respect.

"Actually no, it's simply Bakura."

Uninvited, Bakura sank into the visitor's chair and crossed his legs. As Seto followed short, taking his seat again, he noticed that his mind had come up with a certain suspicion from the moment he had first seen the other man walk into his office. Of course, thinking logically, he had dismissed this possibility upon the instant. However, the longer he watched the silent man in front of him, the more it seemed plausible to him. Deciding he had to know more he finally asked an innocuous question, trying to get the answer that would substitute for the question that was really burning on the tip of his tongue.

"If you allow, what is your first name then?"

Again he was flashed the other's derisive smirk accompanied by another growl of thunder from outside.

"It is Bakura Yami, actually."

Upon noticing Seto startle at the name he explained further.

"Quite the coincidence, isn't it, two members of a band and childhood friends with the same impossible and unusual first name. To avoid confusion we both dropped our first names around each other. I stuck to my surname and my friend let himself be called Atemu, the name of an Egyptian pharaoh he read about once."

"So it is really you", Seto muttered, eyeing him sharply. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on tour with your band"

"Can't you guess?" Bakura snorted. "Well, then, this is about Atemu, about Yami."

A sudden bolt of lightning illuminated the sky for a split second and Seto leaned back into his chair. "What about him?", he asked, trying to sound indifferent.

Bakura was not deterred and leaned forward menacingly, hands gripping the armrests of his own chair. "You know well enough. He's changed. He's not the man I've known for so many years anymore"

"I do not see why any of this concerns me", Seto stated coolly, knowing that he sounded ridiculous but unable to reply anything else. He would not give in so easily this time.

"Oh yes, it does, Kaiba Seto, because it is your fault!" Abruptly, the white-haired man leaned back again, crossing his arms and glaring at Seto.

Anger was rising in his chest like the growling thunderstorm that drew together above the city. Something was not right here.

"I'm only going to ask one more time", he said quietly, staring hard back at the other, "Why are you here when you're supposed to be on tour with your band?"

"You're a pain in the ass", Bakura hissed, "I'm waisting my free day here! I flew back to Domino after the show yesterday evening, arrived at an ungodly hour, barely slept and drank a little coffee and dragged myself over here, having only three more hours before I have to return to some godforsaken village where we are going to perform tomorrow evening. I am not in the mood for any of your shit so kindly shut up and listen, alright?"

Bakura's outburst was followed by tense silence until another roll of thunder shattered it.

Seto's obedience was not caused by shock but by simple curiosity. What could it be that this man had to tell him, taking this pointless journey upon himself?

"Much better", the other smirked, crossing his legs as well. "As you know, the "Moonbirds" are on tour now. Life on tour is different. You live only for the evening, for the next show and the party afterwards. During daytime you sleep, at night you perform – it's an outside-life, something completely out of the ordinary. It's stressful and exhausting, but it is a lot of fun Yami and me used to enjoy together.

Things are different this time. He hardly ever joins the after-show party and if he does he drinks so much he can't stand properly and has to be carried into bed – and yes, that's dangerous because of course he is unable to sign properly in that state and therefore can't tell anyone if there's something wrong. But most of the time he is alone, sitting somewhere reading a book. He's pale and distant and this kind of life is wearing him out. The only time when he is completely himself is on stage, during the show."

Bakura stopped to glare at Seto again and then added, "And I have a good idea whose fault this kind of behaviour from my best friend is. Tell me what happened, you bastard."

In the quiet in between two rumbles of thunder Seto noticed the other drumming his fingers nervously on his armrests, probably the habit of a professional drummer. It was satisfying to know that the white-haired man wasn't completely calm either. To be honest those descriptions of Yami's actions worried Seto. At the same time, though, he remembered that it wasn't his place to feel sorry for what the other obviously wanted and decided for himself. How the hell dared that man accuse him of messing up Yami's life?

"Nothing happened", he ground out. "We had a fight, I was prepared to forgive and forget but he had already decided to run away by going on this damned tour. I walked away from him because I didn't see any point in staying since he made it clear that he wants to be away from me."

It was not the whole truth – for one Seto knew pretty well that Yami had not been too sure of his decision anymore when they had parted, and secondly he had not mentioned his own feelings of hurt and betrayal that had made him walk away more so than Yami's words.

"You asshole, how could he ever want to be away from you?", Bakura grumbled. "Don't you see what he's been doing for you?"

"For me?" Seto, feeling very indignant, gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, apart from embarrassing me at a restaurant and going away for a month when everything could have been sorted out again, you mean?"

"You really don't understand him, do you?", Bakura spat. "Maybe I was wrong to advise him to approach you that day in that damned bar! Perhaps I was wrong the whole time when I told him to just go for it for once. But I've always protected him from ignorant fools like you and I'm going to do it again if I must."

"Protected him?", Seto cried, realising the unfairness. "I thought he didn't want to be protected! Ohhh, and now we see whom Yami really cares about, he trusts you to protect him!"

Bakura's hand shot out and grabbed Seto's tie pulling him forward sharply.

"Shut up", he hissed at the same time as Seto snarled, "Don't touch me"

A particularly loud roll of thunder, accompanied by a sizzling bolt of lightning stopped them in their tracks. Seto ripped his tie from Bakura's hand and sank back into the chair. The other did the same, glaring fiercely.

"I've always protected Yami", he whispered, "Ever since I got to know him, I have. I did it subtly, so he wouldn't notice. I was the only friend he ever had, I helped him pay for that pathetic excuse of a guitar, I dragged him into the band and I defended him at school, learning to speak his way. No one is ever going to hurt him without me coming from wherever I have been to track them down and make them pay. And I will make you pay if you don't get your lazy ass up and contact him now."

"You think you can intimidate me with your little threats, Bakura?", Seto scoffed, "You wish! Why should I do that?"

"Because" Bakura began, voice suddenly sounding softer, deeper, "Because I will tell you what happens when musicians don't go on tour. The band sticks together, if one of us stays at home we all do. But I'm sure as a businessman you can imagine the amount of money that we lose, money our management already counted on and made plans with. Not to mention the publicity. You can do that once but not many times and certainly not because of some personal relationship. If that's what you want, if you refuse to go on tour, then you're out of the business."

Seto opened his mouth and closed it as his mind processed the information. Illuminated by a lightning bolt he could see Bakura's pale face, his silvery hair and his intense, hard eyes.

Then Bakura got up.

"Think it over, Kaiba Seto", he said, "There aren't many people willing to give up their band career and their one and only passion for the one they love"

From: CEO
To: TheOtherVoice

Whydid you do it, damn it? Why?

Do you think I'm that weak? That I can't be without you?

Why not discuss it with me instead of telling me "I'm going to be away", just like that?

Why do you always avoid confrontation?

12th September, 0.05 am

From: TheOtherVoice
To: CEO

Seto. You wrote.

Now, wait a moment, me avoiding confrontation?

Who got up and walked away without a word when I told him I had to leave?

Do you think I'm that weak? Do you think I always need to be protected?

Why didn't you say something when I told you, then we would have had a discussion.

12th September, 15.09 pm

From: CEO
To: TheOtherVoice

I believe you are clearly overreacting here. I am in no way trying to protect you. You are vain if you are under the impression that everyone is constantly trying to protect you. For all I care you can go and get your silly ass drunk until that white-haired psycho comes and carries you to bed. See how well you're taking care of yourself.

12th September, 8.55 pm

From: TheOtherVoice
To: CEO

...What did he do this time? I'm going to kill Bakura!

Seto, I can't be dependent on anyone. It would destroy me. Don't you understand?

I need to live life the way I want to, it's why I began playing the guitar in the first place – to be able to do something the others couldn't, to have something where I wasn't at a disadvantage. No matter if my grandfather approved or not. No matter how many fits he threw about my new life. At least he understood why I had to do it, at least he saw why he had to let me go.

13th September, 1.47 pm

From: CEO
To: TheOtherVoice

You didn't even give me the chance to let you go! You just told me you had to leave and that was it.

It's because of that ex-boyfriend of yours, because he did all those things. But I am not him. I may have made the same mistake but I understand now. And I want my chance now, damn it! Forget that piece of shit, it's me we're talking about. It's the present, not the past. And it fucking is my turn now.

14th September, 4.27 pm

From: CunningThief
To: CEO

Hey rich boy!

What the hell did you do to Atemu? He was fucking unbelievable tonight! I've never seen him that way, the crowd was hoarse from screaming. And he played that song of his, "Doubts". He hasn't done that ever since we left Domino. He fucking cried while he played it. After the show we went dancing, like we used to, and he wouldn't answer any questions, only said he would never play that song again.

What does that mean?

I will kill you if you don't answer, and I'll do worse if you ditched him.

Bakura

14th September, 11.58 pm

From: TheOtherVoice
To: CEO

Seto,

I think I fucked up the show yesterday. But who cares? Bakura says it was cool but I don't believe him. I wasn't even aware of what I was doing and it is all your fault!

Just wanted you to know that you are the one who caused The Great Atemu's downfall.

15th September, 2.04 pm

From: CEO
To: TheOtherVoice

How the hell is it my fault if you can't concentrate properly?

And what did I tell you about vanity? "The Great Atemu" my arse.

Tell that white-haired freak to fuck off from me, alright?

16th September, 6.07 am

"Good evening to all the friends of Jazz Rock, Jazz Funk and Fusion to the Jazz Today Festival! And thank you for the very warm welcome, you are a wonderful audience! While we are still waiting for the main act today, the Sandman's Sisters we may now welcome one of the most popular newcomers of this year, the Moonbirds!

Those five excellent musicians have only just begun to gain attention from the audience of today's jazz styles and show a large amount of potential and experience already. And I am sure after hearing them you will agree with me when I say that it won't be long until they will have their own tours and concerts all over the country. Please welcome Mai, Isis, Malik, Atemu and Bakura – The Moonbirds!"

"It's starting, Nisama!", Mokuba shouted into the kitchen over the sounds of the cheering crowd on the big flat screen.

"No need to shout like that, Mokuba", replied Seto, walking into the room with two cokes and a plate of sandwiches, balancing them with his usual grace as he sat down next to his brother.

"Mmmm, mozzarella sandwiches!" the smaller boy gushed but Seto wasn't paying attention for at that moment a slender boy with the most unusual crown of spiky hair had entered the stage onscreen. He was dressed in black leather pants sparkling with red glitter and a sleeveless red shirt with black glitter that complemented his nicely defined chest and rode up slightly when he lifted his hand to wave at the crowd.

A pang of longing shot through Seto whose eyes were glued to the screen, like a bolt of lightning only gentler and with a bitter aftertaste. Almost immediately his lips began to tingle pleasantly when he thought of Yami's pressed against them and he bit his tongue, shocked at what he was feeling.

The Moonbirds were not playing their usual opening song this time, but started with a new one that had obviously been written specially for the tour – Yami had told him about it in his last mail. This time it were Malik and Yami who began, a conversation of chords and a clashing of deep bass notes with melodious modulation, until they reached the point where Mai joined them, voice beautiful as always.

Three fast challenging songs with a driving beat held the audience captured, left them breathless. Seto had eyes only for Yami who tilted his head back as both his hands raced up and down the neck of his guitar. He could almost imagine the sweat forming on the other's brow, and when those red eyes opened and gazed dazedly into the camera, he felt yet another wave of electricity surge through his body.

The fourth song was slower and Yami had his eyes closed again, as he went with Mai's singing, perfectly accompanying every crescendo, following every rise in her voice, every retardation and tremor.

Captured in a musical trance Seto felt goose bumps breaking out on his skin, crawling down his back.

A piano solo lead on to the next song and in a low whisper Mai declared the title. "Passion in d minor". Seto thought it was very fitting. Malik's deep gently driving bass, the tremolo Isis' fingers elicited from the piano, Bakura's drumsticks whispering over the surface of the cymbal, Yami's guitar producing soft chords blending together like little cries of pleasure and Mai's voice breathy, magnified greatly by the microphone – it made Seto's heartbeat speed up and he forgot about his little brother sitting next to him, stuffing his mouth with mozzarella sandwiches.

Mai strutted on stage, walking over to Malik and rubbing against him, hands ghosting over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. The bass stopped as Malik lifted his hands to let her pull off his shirt with a whispered "My passion for your skin is a passion in d minor" interrupting her singing.

The intention of this song was clear – win the audience at all costs. And the concept proved successful as screaming almost drowned out the chorus.

Now Mai stood behind Bakura, opening his shirt and ridding him of it just like she had done with Malik, whispering, "My passion for your lips is a passion in d minor". The drums slowed down and faded and the bass took up their part, deep dark notes driving down into Seto's gut keeping up the slower rhythm. Bakura on the other hand got up and put his drumsticks away. Carefully he walked up to Yami who now stood in the middle of the stage playing a crazy wild solo full of heat and shivery need.

"My passion for your soul is the deepest darkest greed.
My passion for your heart is a sheer possessive need.
My passion for your lust is a passion in d minor"

Standing fully behind Yami, Bakura's naked strong arms reached around the smaller boy as the solo ended with Mai's singing, and Yami's hands drifted away from the guitar. The white-haired man's fingers reached for the chords and he began strumming softly, far from expertly, but showing at least a small knowledge of what he was doing.

Only when Yami tilted his head back and rested it on Bakura's shoulder did Seto notice how low his guitar hung, and how Bakura's fingers were all but caressing the chords directly above his crotch. He inhaled sharply. The mute guitarist lifted his hands slowly, as they crept around Bakura's neck, and Seto could see that, being pulled closer, Bakura pressed himself against Yami, head sinking down to the other boy's earlobe.

"Fuck", Seto hissed, earning a fearful look from his brother. He knew exactly what Yami was doing, even before the other let his head roll to the side giving the camera his best come-hither look. It was seduction combined with a jealousy-provoking display of sexuality. It made the audience scream and Seto bite back a moan of repressed lust. It was Yami, the confidence and strength that had from the first minute ensnared him, his pride that would never allow unnecessary protectiveness. It was what Seto wanted.

As the last chords faded and Bakura drew back, Seto still sat unmoving. The rest of the concert passed like a haze, like mists in front of his face. Occasionally there was an image of Yami, his blonde bangs already sticking to his face with sweat. But when the Moonbirds left the stage to wild cheering and applauding, Seto stood up, grabbed a sandwich and all but ran from the room.

From: CEO
To: TheOtherVoice

Yami.

Tell Bakura I'm going to kill him.

When are you coming home?

22nd September, 11.02 pm