AlexJai: WOW! Thanks a bunches for all the reviews! That chapter had the most reviews so far! XD I do have to say I'm sorry for the prolonged update. I was hoping to update sooner, but I continually changed things in this chapter, but now I'm satisfied! I really hope you are satisfied with it too as it took me FOREVER to write it. Hehe. Well, as usual . . . don't forget to REVIEW! I must now if I'm still doing a good job . . .
Disclaimer: I do not own Yugioh or anything else in this chapter that's questionable . . .
THE PERFECT MATCH
Chapter Eleven: The Resolution
OCTOBER 24 11: 56 A.M.
I hastily entered the limo with Mokuba right behind me.
"Back to the mansion!" I commanded the driver. I buckled my seatbelt and stared at the window, anxiously tapping my fingers on the seat.
"So why aren't you getting married?" Mokuba questioned an almost disappointed look on his face.
"I'm in love with someone else," I simply responded.
A few seconds passed before Mokuba's voice came out more enthusiastically.
"You're in love with Yami!"
I wondered for a brief second how he guessed, but figured that maybe it really was obvious.
"Yes, which is why I need to fly to New York."
OCTOBER 24 2:05 P.M.
The limo finally pulled up in front of the mansion. I raced up to my room and began to throw whatever clothes I could get my hands on and threw them into a suitcase. I wasn't exactly sure how long I'd be in New York . . .
OCTOBER 24 2:33 P.M.
"Be careful," Mokuba hugged me as we stood outside of my private jet. When I pulled away he sent me a proud beam. "And don't come back alone!"
As I walked up the short flight of stairs onto the jet, I thought to myself uneasily, 'I sure hope I don't.'
OCTOBER 24 4:41 P.M.
I glanced at my watch anxiously for the hundredth time this flight. Only a little more than two hours had passed, with more than eight hours to go.
The uncertainty of what exactly I was doing continually sneaked its way into my mind, only to be forced out with conviction that I was finally going to confess everything to Yami. Once I would tell him how I felt, he would surely return my feelings.
Another wave of doubt worked its way in as I tried to think of how exactly I was going to admit my feelings. For some reason the idea of just walking up to him and pulling him into a passionate kiss was not a good enough option – even though it was the easiest and most satisfying . . .
Yet, who was to say he would feel the same way? But . . . we kissed. And such a kiss had to evoke something in him. I mean, it made me walk out on the wedding day that would ensure my company's safekeeping and caused me to hop onto a plane to fly to an over-sized concrete jungle where I had to find one person in a massive crowd of several million people.
I glanced at my watch again. It was only 4:46.
OCTOBER 24 2:26 P.M. NEW YORK CITY
I stared out the jet's window as it circled around the John F. Kennedy international airport. The jet began to incline towards the strips of the airport that allowed private jets to land.
When the plane finally landed, I briskly stood up and exited the plane. A chilled breeze nipped at my bare cheeks. The weather was prominently colder here.
A limo pulled up and as soon as I got inside of it, I took out my cell phone.
I speed-dialed my secretary. "Did you reserve a room . . . where . . . as always."
When I hung up the phone, I stared at it for a couple seconds.
The sudden idea of calling Yami to ask where he was came up, but I wanted to . . . surprise him.
With this decision, I dialed another number.
"I need you to tell me where I can find Yami Mutou . . . New York City . . . good."
I hung up the phone. They weren't sure how long it would take to find him, but as soon as they found out where he was staying, they would call me back.
Soon . . . soon I would confront Yami.
OCTOBER 24 5:15 NEW YORK CITY
Traffic was absolutely horrendous in New York City. I couldn't understand how someone could deal with this every single day. The limo would move five feet every ten minutes!
But after an agonizing, overwrought journey, I thankfully stepped out of the limo in front of the elite, cultivated Carlyle, which majestically towered above the infamous, bustling Madison Avenue.
The suite I was residing in was a little English for my taste, but it was nonetheless extravagant. Light teak, padded chairs surrounded a polished wooden table with a brass lamp atop it. The living area had a long, dark red velvet couch with matching curtains guarding the windows. And a black, grand piano harmoniously stood in the corner near the window. I thought of Yami.
I headed for one of the doors that led to the bedroom. It was decorated as lavishly as the rest of the suite with a patterned, plush comforter warmly covering the white, down sheets beneath. A pearl, colonial chandelier hung down from the ceiling to affectionately light up the room.
Taking my suitcase and setting it on the bed, I opened it up for a change of clothes. From my formal outfit for the wedding, I dressed into casual dark jeans and a black turtleneck.
Suddenly I heard my phone begin to ring.
I picked it up. "Hello . . . here in Manhattan, then . . . what's the address?" I looked into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a pen and a little pad. "Alright, thanks."
This time when I hung up my phone, I could feel my heart emphatically beat with anxiety.
There it was. Right in front of me. On this note of paper.
OCTOBER 24 6:42 P.M. NEW YORK CITY
The limousine slowed down to a stop. I faltered with the door handle for a second, as my hands were clammy with distress. Once I got the door open, I cautiously stepped out of the limo and stood up to stare at the building in front of me. It was closer to the outskirts of Manhattan's central district, yet still on a moderately busy street. The two-story building was painted a charcoal black. Translucent windows revealed an interior of sharp ebony floors, but alabaster walls. The place seemed very modern, yet very . . . Yami.
As I approached the entrance glass doors, I looked up at the polished, golden letters that elegantly curved to read: Mutou Matchmaking.
In the wall, there was a little button beneath a speaker next to the door. I pressed it.
A few moments later, a young, sophisticated woman walked over to the door with a confused look.
"I'm sorry, we're closed. We don't open until tomorrow," she informed politely through the intercom.
I pressed the speaker button to reply. "I need to speak to Yami Mutou. Tell him it's an old friend."
The woman stared at me for a long time as if querying my trustfulness. Then with a small smile, she pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the glass door. She opened it for me, then said, "I'll go get him."
She walked away, chic pumps clicking against the ebony, tiled floor.
Waiting in the absorbing silence caused my fists to nervously clench and unclench. The speed of my heart was evermore increasing with dire turmoil. I gulped, trying to get rid of the daunted parch in my throat.
My breath hitched when I heard that resplendent voice. "Anzu?"
When he came into view, I felt a surge of empyrean exuberance as his expression expectantly changed from curiosity to complete surprise.
"K-Kaiba?" He asked, not able to believe his astounded eyes.
This whole time I thought I would barely be able to even say hello, but I even amazed myself, as my voice was steady. "Hello, Yami."
Several seconds of Yami staring at me with sheer astonishment passed before he shook his head to gain his composure. "L-Let's go to my office."
Before he turned, he shot me another skeptical look.
A sense of satisfaction shot through me as I had envisioned him to be surprised as such. Now I just needed the rest of my vision to come true . . .
I followed him up a metal flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway. When we walked into a room at the end of the hallway, he languidly shut the door. But then he immediately turned to me.
"Why aren't you at your wedding?" A look of disbelief was still plastered on his flawless face.
"The question should be, why am I here?" I lightly corrected, still unaware of where my stable, self-assured voice was coming from.
Yami sighed, still standing by the door. "What happened to your wedding?"
I surveyed his office. "I couldn't go through with it." There was a metallic, black desk near a window, which the lights of the room reflected off of it.
"But your company-"
"I don't care about it anymore." When I asserted this, Yami raised a dignified eyebrow in doubt. "You don't seem to believe me."
"Well, wasn't that the reason you hired me? So I could find you a wife and then you could keep your precious company." Yami had said this almost sullenly.
On the opposite side of the room away from the desk, was a small area where a gray, leather couch was placed in front of an oval, alloy coffee table.
"That was true, but," I paused and gave him a precise look, "now it's different."
This time he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Why exactly are you here?"
Suddenly I felt all my confidence fade. I had rehearsed what I would say a million times on the plane. But why, now, when he's actually asking me the question I knew he'd ask . . . none of those answers came to mind. So, I told him what had instead come to mind.
"Because Yami, I . . . I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Not since the moment I met you. I've realized every hug, every kiss, every second with Nyoko my mind was always on you. Actually, every second for the past two months doing anything has been spent thinking of you," I paused as a small smile rose on my face. "And last night, our kiss . . . I had never felt so . . . satisfied before." Before I said the next words, I could feel the nervous fear rise in me. "I . . . I came here to know, if you felt the same way."
I stared directly into his astute amethyst eyes, trying to calm myself.
But then Yami's response sent an excruciating dread of mortification. I was stricken.
"No, I don't," he replied, his own gaze now unwavering. "I don't know what illusions you created, but they're false." His eyes seemed to burn with a foreign animosity I had never seen in him before. "I mean, did you really expect me to return your feelings? Did you really think that if you flew all the way here to confess that I'd so easily confess back? Did you really think I felt the same way about the kiss as you did? Well, I felt nothing. I feel nothing . . . for you."
I knew by now I was gaping at him with confounded disbelief. All he did was give me an unrelenting piercing stare, as if he were trying to trample on my expectations.
Pushing my disbelief away, I stared back at him with determination. I wasn't going to give up.
"Don't lie to me," I said with more malice than I intended. "You sure like to run away from your feelings, don't you? First you lied to me last night and denied that there was anything in the dressing room. Now you pretend that our kiss evoked nothing from you, and you have no feelings for me?"
A brief flicker of anguish flashed in his eyes, only to become filled with scorn. "I'm not lying."
I immediately looked away dejectedly, not wanting to hear those words. They stung . . . but then I noticed something in the corner I hadn't seen before. An idea of desperation struck me.
"Then play me. If I don't have your returned feelings now, I'll earn it. Play me in a game of chess. If I lose, I leave. If I win," I paused, "you go out on a date with me."
When I finished, Yami was giving me a surprised look. Then he looked down, considering this deal.
Finally he looked up at me, "Alright."
A smile of hope came on me and we both went over to the chess set in the corner. I sat down, my pieces white like when we played before. Last time wasn't such an easy win, but I was positive I could win again . . .
OCTOBER 24: 8:32 P.M. NEW YORK CITY
Almost two hours had passed since we began playing, and we were both down to a few pieces.
I strategically placed my queen above my rook.
Yami moved his bishop to a non-threatening square.
I moved my queen to put Yami's king in check.
Surprisingly, Yami used his own queen to block the check.
Confident since I had more pieces, I took a big chance by capturing his queen with my queen.
Yami of course took my queen with his king.
Now I moved my other rook over to begin the process that would lead to checkmate.
Yami moved his knight to an insignificant spot.
I placed my rook, once again checking his king.
He retreated his king to hide behind a measly pawn. Now his king was trapped in a corner.
I shifted my other rook, making it so in the next move, I would have a checkmate.
Unexpectedly, I heard Yami say check. When I studied the board, I saw his remaining bishop threatening my king.
I furrowed my eyebrows, irritated that he was delaying my victory.
"Check," Yami had said again, his knight imposing me this time.
I moved my king, still frustrated. Just one more move and I would have checkmate.
"Check," Yami said again, his last rook attacking my king.
I moved my king again, but hadn't realized what I had done.
Yami slowly set his rook in front of my king. "Checkmate."
Hearing this, I gave the board a frantic scan, trying to find any possible options. My heart sunk further and further as I began to realize it was indeed checkmate. I had . . . lost.
My eyes slowly drifted up until they met a sympathetic stare.
"I'm sorry, Kaiba." His quiet words stabbed my heart and any hopes I had left. I was devastated.
It was hard for me to stand up as my whole body felt like lead. Each slow beat my heart took slammed into my chest. A large lump in my throat formed, as I slowly made my way to the door.
I thought of trying again – trying something else – but I knew that any other resorts wouldn't work . . . The gaze in his eyes had pity, not regret.
When I opened the door, I glanced over to Yami one more time. Would this be the last time I ever saw him?
He stood there, expressionless, pointedly looking away from me.
"I love you," I softly breathed, wondering if he even heard it, as I shut the door.
OCTOBER 25 12:03 A.M.
It was a couple of minutes into my 25th birthday. In a little less than twenty-four hours, my birthday would pass and it would be another year before my next one.
With no desire to stay in New York, I immediately went to the private jet after retrieving my clothes from the hotel. The plane was now almost halfway to Domino.
The cup of iced water in front of me stood untouched. A desolate misery flowed severely through me. All I could think about was the way he had looked at me. There wasn't any hint of compassion. There was nothing but pure sympathy – cold, heartbreaking sympathy.
My phone suddenly rang. I really wasn't in the mood to talk so I let it continue until it stopped. But then it began to ring again.
I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at who was calling me. With a heavy sigh, I answered it. "Hello?"
"Mr. Kaiba!" greeted an urgent voice.
"What do you want?" I would usually have said this with vehemence, but only a dispirited voice came out.
"We found something! In your father's will! Noah seemed to have missed it!" the delighted voice exclaimed.
"What was it?" An image of Yami, sending me a challenging stare popped into my mind.
"Well, there was a part in your father's will on a different page that stated that ownership of the company could not be forfeited if the current value of the company was equal to or more than ten billion dollars."
That smug smirk of his was settled on that amused face. "And?"
Then I saw him playing the piano with a pale moonlight enhancing his luring features. "Sir, it means you get to keep it! You get to keep your company!"
These words seemed so distant and for some reason . . . no hint or droplet of joy splashed into me. The guarantee of keeping my company couldn't possibly graze the disconsolation I drowned in.
I hung up the phone, and continued to fixedly stare at the full glass of water.
My stomach twisted in an awful pain – the same pain I felt when Yami had left after we kissed. I finally realized what this growing pain was – despair.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Oh no! Well, sigh . . . WHAT'D YOU THINK? Unexpected? Expected? I can't believe there is only one more chapter left though . . . Well tell me if this chapter was worthy enough in a REVIEW!