Please Read and Review… mainly because I'd love to know what you're thinking…

KAIBA NICKNAME NOTE: Just a reminder, Yami uses the following nicknames for the 18 year-old Seto Kaiba:

Koryuu: Little Dragon

Ryuujin: Dragon King

CHAPTER 23: NO NAME

MOKUBA'S POV

Yami and I had breakfast together suspiciously often. I was flattered, and it was nice having company, but I couldn't help wondering what the hell was going on. I mean, it's not like Yami needed my permission. I wasn't sure if he wanted advice (and if it didn't occur to Yami how bizarre it was for him to be asking his lover's 13 year-old brother for advice on how to manage Nisama, I certainly wasn't going to clue him in), information, or just a friendly face… but whatever he wanted was fine by me.

When I had seen my brother in that T-shirt, showing Sugoroku his arms – I knew – Nisama loved Yami and would do anything for him – even reveal what he thought of as a weakness. When I saw how Yami had stayed by his side… how he had supported him without saying a word, I knew – he felt the same. And that was all I needed to know.

It figured – out of the whole gang – my brother had picked the weirdest one. That he had also picked the most dangerous, I considered par for the course.

Most people, when faced with my brother's moods, his temper, his inability to face, let alone express his emotions – would have either given up, or simply accepted the limitations he put on the relationship. Yami did neither. And that's when I knew that my brother had managed to find someone as rare as him.

So I was a regular little cheerleader. I must have overdone it though, because it attracted Yami's attention; made him ask, "Not that I'm not grateful, but why are you being so helpful?"

Maybe he was asking for my permission, or at least my approval, after all.

I wasn't sure what to say. The real answer was too silly to try to explain. It was because of the fruit. It had appeared wherever my brother might be working, unobserved… in his offices, next to the computer in his bedroom.

I had once caught sight of him slowly, meditatively, eating strawberries, while staring at his monitor, lost in thought.

Only one person could have done it. I was ashamed it hadn't been me. I had tried all my usual tricks – the tear filled eyes, the trembling lower lip – but I had never managed to coax Nisama into choking down more than a few mouthfuls of food at a time. Even the restaurants where he had his business lunches knew enough to serve him a significantly smaller portion than anyone else… so that it wouldn't be obvious how little he ate. But it had never occurred to me that if I simply left his favorite foods out, he might eat them absent-mindedly, almost accidentally, while his mind was on something else. I guess that's why Yami was the King of Games.

I searched for a reason I could give, without telling Yami that I was helping him because of a bowl of strawberries.

"Nisama's never wanted anyone before. And no matter what he's telling you… no matter what he's telling himself… he wants you for more than a quick lay," I said. "And I've seen a lot of people want my brother. But I've never seen anyone care about him, or push him, or tease him. As long as you're on his side… I'm on yours."

"You have something very special. A bond that cannot be broken, even by betrayal. Kaiba's very lucky."

I knew he was thinking of Yugi. But I had to set him straight.

"You've got it wrong. Everyone does. Nisama never betrayed me. Not ever. You of all people should understand that there's no shame in trying your hardest and still losing. Sometimes that's all you can do. He may have lost, but he never surrendered, and that's what counts. Isn't that what you tell Jounouchi every time you beat him?"

Yami ignored my question for one of his own. "I may have been Kaiba's opponent at Death-T, but I've never understood what brought him to that point."

"You're the one who shattered his heart. Can't you read it?"

"No. I have never quite known what action he will take, or why."

"No one can predict what the knight's going to do," I reminded him.

He smiled. "Perhaps, one day, I should study chess." His smiled faded as he thought of Death-T again. "I expected to face pure evil, that day. I planned to destroy him without a second thought. His façade fooled me as well as everyone else. When I faced him, though, I saw a boy whose rage and hatred weren't directed solely at us. A boy who deserved the chance to become more than the demon he had created; a boy who was just as trapped by Death-T as Yugi, or I… or you. And I knew Kaiba had the strength to rebuild his life if I broke his self-made prison. I knew that he had deliberately, systematically razed his own soul until there was almost nothing left. But I have never known why."

He looked at me, expectantly. For years, I had been waiting for someone to care enough about Nisama to ask. For someone to look at my brother and want to know, not what he had done, but why. Before Kouma had appeared to give me a long hard look at myself, I would have answered without hesitation. But now I knew: this was Nisama's secret, to share when he was ready. There was a lot I could, and probably would, end up telling Yami, but It wasn't my place to answer Yami's question – not until my brother gave a sign it was what he wanted, as well. And just like I had believed that my brother would come back to me, I believed he could do this, too.

"I'm sorry Yami, I just can't answer… at least, not yet." I said.

"You've picked an inconvenient time to learn discretion," he commented.

"I know. But Nisama needs more time."

"My life has been on hold for 3,000 years, and you're asking me to have a little more patience?"

Put like that, it sounded awful. But Yami was smiling as he said, "If there's one thing I've learned, it's how to wait. I first loved your brother 3,000 years ago. It's taken me 3,000 years to fall in love with him. If it takes me another 3,000 years to understand him, I'll be here at the end of that time. There are some things worth waiting – even millennia for – and your brother is one of them."

YAMI'S POV

I was the King of Games. Now for the first time, it was the prize and not the contest that fascinated me. Now, for the first time, I had learned to fear losing.

I loved Kaiba, too deeply for denial. Somewhere, inside himself, Kaiba loved me. I knew that. I clung to that. But he could barely bring himself to accept even this fragile connection; this uncertain elixir of physical desires and unspoken thoughts. It was like being in the middle of every duel we had ever fought… I was standing, alone and suddenly vulnerable… facing my rival and his seemingly impregnable forces. I could only trust that the ending could be as familiar; that, once again, I would prevail – for Kaiba's sake… and my own.

Each night, Kaiba knotted his hands in my hair. Each night, he kissed me hard enough to leave my lips bruised by the memory the following morning. Each night, I deepened the marks on his neck, his torso, his thighs – tattooing the already scarred surface. He never commented. He never tried to stop me. He had even stopped covering them up. I didn't know why, or what (if anything) it meant.

I had lived inside of Yugi for so long; had floated among his thoughts until they were as familiar as my own. I loved Kaiba. I didn't know him. I didn't even know if he would ever trust me enough to let me know him. But Kaiba was not the only stubborn one in this partnership… or the only one who played to win.

I stared at the Duel Monsters card in my hand with satisfaction. I had worked for an afternoon in the Game Shop in exchange for it. Sugoroku had smiled as he slid it across the glass counter towards me.

"Find something else you couldn't resist adding to your collection? Or is it just that he reminds you of someone you know?" he asked, tapping the image on the card with his fingernail.

"Oh, I have plans for this card, all right," I laughed. But it's not for me. You're right – they belong together. I can't wait to see Kaiba's face when he gets a good look at it."

"Don't be surprised if he doesn't recognize it," Sugoroku warned.

"Of course he will. Kaiba has practically every card in the game memorized," I said confidently.

"I was referring to the gesture, not the card," he answered.

I had earned the card… but it seemed that Sugoroku still had the habit of giving away puzzles.

It was a good card, Bottom's Wall. That would insure Kaiba's attention. The Trap Card let you protect your weakest monster on the field for two turns – but only if you used him as a sacrifice at the end of that time. I had bought it for the picture, though. I grinned in anticipation. I enjoyed teasing Kaiba. Moreover, often, the only way to learn anything about him, was to get him annoyed enough to speak unguardedly.

Of course with Kaiba, no game ever went as expected.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded irritably, as I threw him the card.

"In case you don't recognize it, it's a Duel Monsters card," I answered blandly.

"What do you want in return?" he asked, eyes narrowed. He put the card down and reached for his briefcase. He still hadn't looked at it. I had helped Yugi and Jounouchi build their decks. I had seen them give each other cards routinely. Foolishly, I had expected Kaiba to recognize a present when he was given one.

I shook my head. I hadn't expected Kaiba to demand an explanation until he had actually looked at the card.

"Nothing," I answered.

"You must want something. Why else…" For once, his voice trailed off awkwardly.

I had never given him a gift before. Nor had he given me anything in the traditional sense. But as with most things involving Kaiba, appearances were deceptive. Without a word things… like motorcycles… had suddenly appeared, reserved for my exclusive use. This had accorded so well with my vague memories of my past, I hadn't noticed. Until the day I had left the mansion with Yugi and Jounouchi to find a limousine ready to take us to our destination… and even I couldn't miss Jounouchi's knowing grin as he suggested heading out to the airport to see if a plane was waiting as well…

"It's a gift," I told him quietly. "It reminded me of you."

That finally got him to focus on the card. His eyes narrowed further as he took in the figure in the ancient Egyptian garb that reminded me of his ceremonial robes… as he stared at the man's body that was topped by a donkey's head.

"There are times when a jackass seems much more in tune with your soul, than even your dragons," I explained. "I mean for a man who professes not to believe in the past, you're spending a lot of time trying to gather information on a certain Egyptian priest and sorcerer, who coincidentally happened to be your father. Since you claim not to believe in any of it, I wonder why you're bothering to try to track him down." I nodded at the card. "You and Mule Boy are definite soul mates."

He drew himself up to his full height, glaring at me. He threw the card. I caught it as it bounced off my chest. It was made of paper. In his hands, how had it turned so hard? Only Sugoroku's warning; Kaiba's slight wince as I said the word 'father' – and the fact that he had not aimed for my face, enabled me to keep my temper.

"Never pretend you're giving me a gift when all you're doing is proposing a trade – a card for information. It was a trap card all right," he spat out.

"No," I said firmly, reminding myself that he was young and had never learned to accept gifts graciously… had possibly never been given one, before. I walked up to him, tucked the card in his pocket. "It's a gift. I would like to know why any mention of the past bothers you… but you can tell me anything you wish... or nothing, and I will accept your decision. It's your choice what knowledge you want to give me. Just as giving you that card was mine. Think of it as my way of saying that even a stubborn mule like you has to admit that those visions we saw at Alcatraz, had been real. That you had a past life… one you shared with me."

"Why is it always the past with you? Who cares who I was? I built who I am with my own hands," he retorted.

"Yes, but you built him on the foundation of who you were," I answered.

"Maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why I wish you'd just take a hint and drop the whole subject. The first time, I seem to have ended up with a father who literally sold his soul to the devil. The next time, I did even worse – and I chose Gozaburo myself. I can only hope the cycle stops here.

Look at what I've done in this lifetime. I designed bombs and the missile systems to deliver them when I was Seto's age. I followed that up with Death-T. Are you really so surprised I don't want all the details of whatever I screwed up in a past life too? I'm too busy with this one."

"I don't remember everything," I said, "But I remember you."

He stood up, faced me as though we were on a dueling field; looked me in the eye, ready for the verdict. I don't think I would ever get tired of seeing him stand like that – staring down his challenges.

"He was like you. Arrogant… stupidly sure of himself; far too reckless and stubborn for his own good. He was an honorable man. You would recognize him – as do I. You have built on a strong foundation, Koryuu."

KAIBA'S POV

Koryuu, again.

For a person who hated nicknames, I seemed to be acquiring a lot of them. Yami called me by Seto's nickname: Koryuu (fucking Little Dragon). Sugoroku: Terrible Boy. Of the two, I preferred Terrible Boy.

Ordinarily I would have reacted to being called a terrible boy, much as Seto did to being labeled Baby Kaiba, but Sugoroku was different. After all, he was a fossil himself. Anyone under 50 must have looked like a kid to him. Besides, the 'boy' part at least was familiar. It was what Gozaburo had called me most often, rarely bothering to remember or use my name. 'Terrible' was Sugoroku's little addition. If it was meant affectionately, at least it was affection offered with an edge.

Yami was another matter.

I've always been Nisama. I've never cared what anyone else called me: Seto… Kaiba… boy… stray dog… fucking bastard… it was all the same to me. Until Yami breathed "Koryuu" in my ear. Until I began to listen for it.

"Little Dragon? I'm at least a foot taller than you, midget." I snarled.

"Just the right height, Koryuu," he agreed, pulling my head down to his; kissing me until I could barely breathe, much less argue. When had he learned that kissing me was the most effective way to shut me up? And when had I learned to allow it?

Somehow, the simple act of fucking Yami had changed the equation. And I had allowed that, too. Worse, I found myself living for the moment when I could finally lock the door behind us; when I was free to fondle Yami as I desired, when he would caress me in return. That at least made some sense. Sex is, after all, partly a matter of hormones and opportunity… and Yami was incendiary. But it wasn't just the sex I craved. It was the affection.

How had this game changed so quickly? If I had a weakness when dueling Yami, it was that I never could quite figure out his end strategy. It was so seldom motivated by a pure desire to win. And so, I admit, I was now mystified by those seemingly random, semi-public embraces; moves that could not possibly be construed as a prelude, or even an invitation, to sex. Those brief, casual touches whose meaning I could not decipher… the fleeting hand on my shoulder… the butterfly kiss on my neck. Yami's timing was as impeccable as ever. He would withdraw before I could shake him off… leaving behind the imprint of his hands, his lips.

And yet, each touch, each kiss, disturbed something deep within me. It was not that I was afraid of losing my edge. I still had that, every time I left the mansion; every time Yugi's friends walked in the door. It was as natural as breathing, as much a part of me as my scars… When needed, I could feel my rage settle on my shoulders like a trench coat.

It was not even all these people Yami had brought in his wake. Yugi, I could ignore. I privately though of him as Yami's shadow, anyway. Sugoroku was harder to figure. In his place, I wouldn't have wasted a second on me. But I suppose, since he was in my mansion, drinking my coffee, he figured he owed me some conversation. That, at least was an explanation I could accept. I knew that wasn't the whole story… there was the nickname for one thing… but it was close enough for me. Besides, he was a gamer. I didn't really hold it against him that he had fallen to my dragons. Except for Yami, everyone did.

I would never see the same world that Yugi and his friends saw; the world that everyone else lived in. That was fine by me. 'Everyone else' wouldn't have survived Gozaburo. Yugi's friends would have been dead meat within a week. I didn't dislike them. I just didn't have anything to say to them. The way they laughed and cried, and hugged each other, and insisted on talking about how they felt… it made my skin crawl. Then they would start in on me. Expecting some kind of response… expecting some kind of light bulb to go off in my head. I honestly have absolutely no idea what they wanted, or why – and was uninterested in supplying it anyway. And they were unwilling to accept that. Or had been.

I tried to tolerate them. I owed Yami that. It wouldn't be fair to make him feel uncomfortable in our joint presence. (Besides, he probably preferred them.) And lately things had improved. They would say hello as I entered the room, and ignore me… finding me less interactive than the video games I designed. And I could watch their antics in peace and silence. I guess you could say we'd reached a truce.

It was unsettling learning Yami and I had never been enemies, 3,000 years ago… just as we had never really been enemies now… even at Death-T… even at Alcatraz. Of course I went straight from wondering just how evil my past self had been, to wondering just how much Yami missed him. As if the only constant was my need to avoid giving life to my feelings; my need to avoid having to acknowledge Yami's.

"I know I'm just a replacement for my past life version, anyway," I told him. I don't know why I said that. Well, actually I know exactly why I said that – I was hoping to be contradicted. It was as close as I could come to asking him if he cared

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I've heard the way you talk about him. I bet you never had to shatter his heart to wake him up."

He shook his head.

"Only you could possibly be jealous of yourself," he smirked. "But I'm encouraged. Are the unspoken limits you put on our relationship starting to chafe?"

I ignored that and focused on the simplest part of his statement. The part I could argue.

"He's not me! And you never did say which you prefer… not that it matters. I can guess."

"You are impossible! There are times, Seto Kaiba, when I tire of your willful blindness." he said sternly.

Shit.

I hated it when he used my full name. He only did it when I had disappointed him yet again. I thought I was as stone faced as usual, but something must have slipped, because his eyes softened.

I knew what was coming next, and although I wanted it, in some ways it hurt worse than his disapproval. (Disapproval at least was familiar.) But now he was going to remind himself that he couldn't really expect more from a stray dog like me. He was going to caress me and breathe Koryuu in my ear. He was going to try to soothe me; try to make it 'all better'. And I was going to allow it. I was going to melt into his touch; I was going to prove to him just how helpless I was to resist him. And I wasn't going to hate myself for it either – which was the scariest part.

"Koryuu," he whispered, taking my face in his hands, kissing me… until he had transmuted my anger into passion, sharpened my confusion to desire. Until my hand was tangled in his hair as if I'd never let go. Until I was stripping his clothes; breathing in his scent; before finally re-dressing his body with my own. Until we fell, once again, to the bed, already entwined.

I was starting to feel like I was leading two separate existences. My old life: raising Mokuba, running my business, ignoring Yugi's friends. And this new life, here, with Yami… inhabiting an almost-speechless, almost-wordless world; an existence made of touch and sensation… where the only sounds were our cries; the only words, his whispered Koryuu… his whispered Ryuujin.

I knew I was coming to feel some nebulous something for Yami. I hoped he was coming to care for me. But I also knew, and with equal certainty, that those feelings were as dead as my fourth dragon; that I had killed them as surely. I had no cause for complaint. I had given them up of my own free will. And I was afraid to discover that there are some things that even Monster Reborn can not bring back.

Most people desire the illusion of love. But, Yami had given me something even more precious: the illusion of indifference. He had done me the favor of not putting words to his emotions – of not asking me to name mine. If I chose, I could pretend that it was simply a coincidence that we ended each night in my room; in my bed. He granted me the silence that I needed. But he did not allow me to pretend that he was merely using me; he did not allow me to treat him as if he was as insubstantial as the shadow he had never been to me. He did not allow me to leave in the morning without saying good-bye. Even the gift of thoughtlessness has its limits… and its price.

C2 ANNOUNCEMENT: There is now a C2 community of dedicated to stories about (who else?) Yami and Seto. They've got close to 200 stories listed so far. They're looking for staff (which simply means you'll notify them of new stories you find), or subscribers (which means you'll get e-mails when new stories are added). The staff have an appropriately Seto-like determination to make it the biggest and best C2 community. To get to the community, click the link that says "C2" on the top right corner of the yugioh fandom. Go to anime yugioh C2.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Kaiba's DENSE, but he's not stupid. He's certainly smart enough to realize that this relationship is really about more than sex, and that Yami is letting him get away with pretending otherwise, but shoving his emotions aside to deal with later (or not at all), is part of Kaiba's operational style. Also, while he's (barely) starting to realize he might possibly want more from Yami, the status quo gives him enough of what he knows he wants (like Yami in his bed) that he'd be unwilling to change it. For his part, I think Yami would be moving very carefully – because one of the few things he does get is that Kaiba has a really hard time admitting to emotions. And I think he would be frustrated at not knowing Kaiba well enough to be sure what his next move should be.

Kaiba and eating: One thing everyone notices about Kaiba is how skinny he is. Partly, I think that's a function of his being so tall. And if you look at the manga, he has a tremendous growth spurt from the beginning to the end. So he probably has a pretty high metabolism.

But another thing stuck me. I definitely don't think of Kaiba as being anorexic, but the only scene where you see him eating is the one where he first arrives at the mansion. Gozaburo and Seto get into this screaming fight, and it ends with Seto's toys being taken away and his getting separated from Mokuba to boot. If that's what mealtimes were like at the Kaiba household, I wouldn't be surprised if the sight of food made his stomach clench.

Kaiba and Ancient Egypt: In the first scanlation I saw, when Kaiba realizes he can read the hieroglyphics, he sees scenes of himself fighting Yami and sacrificing Kisara, and says "What did I do?" Now this could be a scanlation error, because elsewhere I've seen it translated as "How can I do this?" But I started thinking about how all the images Kaiba sees of his past life are profoundly destructive. Given his own history building weapons, and his guilt over it, I thought that might be the reason behind his distaste for anything relating to his past life.

Incredibly Eccentric Title Note: One totally odd thing that struck me is that fanfiction on the Internet has managed to update (or recreate) the experience Victorian era readers most have had reading serialized novels. Most Victorian writers – Dickens springs to mind (unless you're like me, and Christmas Carol aside, prefer never to think about Dickens), published their novels in installments in magazines. And then readers would have to wait more or less patiently from month to month to find out if Little Nell died. Of course readers today have the added insecurity of wondering if their favorite stories will be suddenly abandoned…

Anyway, my favorite Victorian writer isn't Dickens, (well that was probably obvious), but Wilkie Collins. I love The Moonstone, which is coincidentally (or not, I'm never sure how coincidences work) told through a series of interlocking first-person narratives. Anyway, The Moonstone just wouldn't work as a chapter title; then I remembered Wilkie Collins had written a book (not as good) called No Name. Which is about two sisters who get declared illegitimate and disinherited. And the older one swears to do whatever it takes to protect her younger sibling. How could I resist?

Card Title Note: The jackass in A Midsummer's Night Dream is named Bottom. I know… there are thousands of cards in circulation, and I always seem to end up making them up.

RESPONSE TO REVIEWS:

Sweatpants: (Psyche) When writing the scene, I imagined Seto wearing these low cut sweatpants with a T-Shirt that came down to about his belly button. So, about an inch or two of skin below his navel would be exposed between the hem of the shirt and the top of the pants. I tried to work in a more detailed description, but the scene was described from Sugoroku's POV. And there was no way to do it without making people wonder why Sugoroku would be ogling Kaiba. Which struck me as pretty funny, but definitely a topic for another, even weirder story…

Seto, Mokuba, Kaiba fight: (Clarity, QueenOfGames2) Guess that chapter was more confusing than intended. I was trying to show that when Seto saw Mokuba trying to take the blame, it reminded him of situations where it would have been dangerous for Mokuba to do that. And he forgot where and when he was, and sort of flashed back to how he would have reacted if Gozaburo had been alive. Kaiba realized what was happening, it would have been all too familiar. But I think he realized that until the scene kind of played itself out, Seto was not coming back to the present. The scene should make more sense after Chapter 24 which has a flashback scene.

Seto and Kaiba: (AmunRa, BH, Psyche) I guess I've always been interested in what happened to turn the boy from the orphanage into the architect of Death-T. There are only a few glimpses of the 13 year-old Seto in the anime. The one that always struck me is the one where he's fighting for control of Kaiba Corporation. He's talking about how he decided he had to do whatever it took to get control, because he had to stop Gozaburo. He certainly doesn't sound ashamed – but he's obviously not proud either. He's simply determined to do whatever it takes to meet his objectives, and is willing to defer any moral or emotional fallout. And given how many of Kaiba's early choices were destructive to his own well being, I thought brining the two of them together would be interesting.

Motorcycles: (baby mar-mar, Ceribi Motou, Kurosaisei, Nachzes-Black Rider) I Definitely agree regarding Kaiba on a motorcycle. Much too hot for his own good!

Seto and Yami: (Amant de Mort, Desidera, EcoGoth, QueeOfGames2, Sylvia Viridian, Wintersslayer) Given that Kaiba has such a deep attraction to Yami, it seemed logical that Seto would share it. Except, he'd be more likely to resent being attracted, and he doesn't know Yami well enough to really either trust or respect him (in fact, I think he'd be fighting pretty hard against doing either. That was a good point – until I read the review I didn't realize that Yami had gotten on Seto's nerves exactly the same way, in the manga/anime, he always gets on Kaiba's. Also I see Seto as thinking and expressing himself more crudely. I have to admit that his blunt observations are fun to write.

Mokuba: (Nachzes-Black Rider) One thing that struck me is how often Mokuba is sneaking around -- I mean we see him escape from Pegasus and Malik, and he's caught spying on the Big 5, and you also see him spying on everyone at the mansion in the flashback scenes, not to mention tricking the butler into giving Seto his cards. And he follows blatantly cheating in his early duels with Yugi, by trying to outright steal his star chips at Duelist's Kingdom. I think given the environment he grew up in, and given that he's younger, smaller and just generally less intimidating than his brother, spying, lying, cheating, and manipulating others, would have been a survival skills.

Writing in general, Déjà Vu in particular (BH, Kurosaisei, laura m, Mistal: The Poisoned One, mezu, Moonrunner, Sarcastic Bastet, t.a.g.0.) Thank you for your encouragement. I'm the kind of person that loses themselves in the story when I read. Like on some level, I think that Middle Earth is a real place (don't say yeah – it's in New Zealand) and that somewhere, Kaiba and Yami are dueling on the streets of Domino. So, although I don't own Yugioh, I have tried to recreate my own little corner of Domino. At first I worried that putting all these details, and character introspection was just a frill that slowed down the story. It took hearing from people to realize – it wasn't slowing down the story – it was part of the story. And I needed to have confidence in that. So, thanks again.

Note to Tuulikki – it was good to hear from you.

Thanks to Clarity and Yume no Zencho for letting me know there were formatting errors. I'm not sure how that happened, but I reposted the chapter which took care of the problem.