A/N: Yay! One down. My goal for this week is to update all of my YGO fics, and I got one done! I'm very excited, if you couldn't tell. Oh, and I promised I would praise my beta for going through it so quickly, so everything I've ever said about her being slow and sometimes not sending me any corrections (not 'cause I just write so beautifully and there were none in there(I wish)but because she just didn't do 'em) is fully taken back! She is a wonderful wonderful wonderful beta that deserves all the best music I have. That's the best reward I can think of, 'cause music equals life in my opinion.
Disclaimer: Do I really have to write these every time?
Chapter Two:
A light breeze came through the open window and rustled Seto's newspaper. He straightened it, but then decided to just put it down. He was actually reading it, but had a feeling that a certain little brother of his would come sprinting down the stairs and initiate a conversation. It was always better that one prepare oneself for a talk with that miniature whirlwind. Earlier in the morning, when Seto had finally gotten home, he was shocked to find that Mokuba had waited up for him. Of course, he had called home to tell his brother where he would be, and that he didn't know how long it would take, but he hadn't expected Mokuba to stay up that late.
Even at that time in the early morning, Mokuba was extremely energetic. He was probably just curious about Seto's night, and that's what kept him up, since Mokuba wasn't really the type that stayed up that late. But the instant Seto walked through the door, Mokuba was asking questions. He was relentless in this task until Seto had told him that the person he saved was going to be staying with them, at least until that person had recovered his memory. Mokuba was silent after this, and Seto could see the little wheels inside his brother's head turning. He was too tired to dissuade his brother from doing anything, so he let Mokuba think away.
Like clockwork, Seto could hear small pounds coming down the staircase. The kitchen door burst open, and a very distressed Mokuba ran in. Before Seto could comment on this, though, Mokuba spoke.
"What's his favorite color?"
"Excuse me?" Seto asked, wondering in what reference this question had popped up.
"Yami, what's Yami's favorite color?" Mokuba looked as if this was a matter of life or death, but Seto almost laughed out loud.
"How should I know?" He responded, then deciding it might be better if he picked that newspaper back up.
"Aw, Seto, you're no help," Mokuba pouted. Still, he sat down on the other side of the small kitchen table and sulked.
"Why do you want to know, anyway?" Seto asked.
"We have to prepare a room for him, so I was wondering what color theme I should make it," Mokuba said.
"Ever the thoughtful one," Seto said, picking up his cup of coffee and taking a small drink. "Just go with your gut instinct."
"But I don't know anything about him," Mokuba said. "My instinct could be way off. Just tell me something about him, that would help."
"I don't know anything about him," Seto said. "I found him in the bay, nearly frozen to death. You want help, don't make his room blue, might bring back bad memories."
Mokuba looked a little lost at that comment, but smiled when he got it. "'Cause of the water. You're so weird. Fine, no blue. But what else? I need more help."
"Why don't you just wait until he gets here and then ask him?"
"But," Mokuba started. "That's rude. His room should be ready for him by the time he gets here. And I'll need something to do while you're out."
"I'm sure he won't care what color his room is, just as long as it's clean and his," Seto said. "Make it whatever color you want."
Seeing that his older brother was going to be absolutely no help, Mokuba got up and left the kitchen. Seto sighed and looked down at his watch. He had ten minutes until he needed to leave. It still hadn't quite hit him that he had offered to take in a supposedly orphaned boy, which meant that the same boy would be living with them. It had always only been Seto and Mokuba, alone in a big house, either in Japan or San Francisco; it was going to be strange to have to consider someone else.
Well, he had already chosen to take on this responsibility, and he could hardly back down now. Not only would it be a huge blow to his character, but Mokuba would be mad at him. Seto didn't see the reason for another person in their lives, but Mokuba was a very social creature, making friends everywhere from in school to random homeless people on the street. Seto disapproved of the latter, but couldn't stop his brother's personality from exerting itself.
Finishing his coffee, Seto stood up and walked to the hallway. He pulled his coat off of the coat hanger and put it on. He was just about to yell up the staircase to tell Mokuba that he was leaving when he heard a loud crash. It sounded like something dense and heavy was dropped on the floor.
"Mokuba?" Seto called up the stairs.
"No! Nothing's wrong! I'm okay," Mokuba yelled back. "Are you leaving now?"
"Yes, I'll be back soon," Seto said, a little curious as to what his younger brother was doing upstairs.
"Okay, see you then," Mokuba said, appearing at the top of the stairs to wave good bye.
Seto walked out of the house, feeling uneasy about what Mokuba was going to do to the guest bedroom. Images of Mokuba covered in paint...and the room covered in paint, infiltrated Seto's thoughts, causing more uneasiness to bubble up in Seto. He banished these thoughts from his mind as he unlocked his car and got in.
The drive from Seto's house to the hospital was no more than forty minutes over the hills of San Francisco. Today, though, it only took twenty minutes. By some prophetic act, Seto had left later than he normally would have, so he arrived at the doors of the hospital at exactly 8.52, leaving ample time for him to get to the correct wing and room.
Seto walked into the lobby to be greeted by a cheery receptionist who handed him a guest pass. She had given him the correct floor pass, perhaps she remembered him from earlier, but if she was there earlier she must've been awake for who knows how long. And yet she was that...agreeable. It made Seto inwardly shudder.
Seto walked through the empty hallways listening to his rubber soles create a dull thud on the floors. It was early in the morning, and still nurses and doctors clad in white clothing rushed past him on their way to something that needed their attention. He reached the proper door and stood in front of it. Against his will, his hand slid up the door, coming to rest a little lower than at shoulder height. On the other side of that door was a human being that was going to live with him for an indeterminate amount of time. He took a deep breath and moved his hand down to the door knob, twisted it open, and walked into the room with all the confidence he could muster.
Inside, the doctor from last night held up a stethoscope up to the bare chest of his patient. Yami, intently staring at the doctor, glanced up when Seto made his entrance. His expression caught Seto off guard, it was unnerving, slightly eerie. Not necessarily happy, definitely not hostile, but like something Seto had never seen on a human being.
The doctor, noticing the new occupant in the room, turned around from his patient. He, as a complete opposite of Yami, looked worn down and confused. He brought his hand up to the bridge of his nose and started to massage as he walked toward Seto. Yami stayed seated on the bed, but picked up his shirt and put it back on.
"I need to speak with you," the doctor said when he reached Seto. They walked outside and the doctor stopped him a little ways from the door. "I don't understand this situation at all, but I have been running thorough tests on Yami the entire night, and he has completely recovered from the trauma yesterday." he said. "Completely," he said again, quieter, as if to strengthen his point.
"And?" Seto said after a sufficient pause.
"And so he is..." the doctor reached up and scratched his head, "well, we can't keep him here, because there's nothing to treat. But this anomaly should be researched."
"Good luck with that one," Seto said sarcastically. "Something tells me he wouldn't be too compliant."
"Of course," the doctor said. "And we couldn't without his permission. So, I assume you've come to sign off for him."
"Yes," Seto said, resigning a restless part of his soul to a fact that he couldn't escape.
With all the appropriate papers signed, Seto walked back into Yami's hospital room. Yami was sitting on his bed, staring out the window. Seto couldn't see what was so interesting, the only thing visible from that window was the large tree right outside it, maybe a little bit of sky.
"Get your things, we're leaving now," Seto said.
"What?" Yami asked.
"You are leaving the hospital, with me," Seto replied.
"Where are we going?"
"We are going to my house, where you will stay until you regain your memory and can leave," Seto said.
"Oh," Yami said. Silently, he jumped off the bed and reached underneath it, pulling out a small bag.
"What's in the bag?" Seto asked.
"Clothes, from the hospital," Yami replied.
Outside, the fog had already burnt off, leaving a clear, brisk day. There were no clouds in the sky, yet the wind from the ocean was more than enough to cancel out the warming rays of the sun. Seto could see his breath, but didn't think twice about the weather.
Then a question from nowhere reached Seto's ears.
"What do I call you?"
He turned around to Yami, confused by what he meant. Seto thought about it, and quickly came to the conclusion that he had never told Yami his name.
"You may call me Kaiba," Seto replied.
By this time they had reached the car, and Seto pushed the button in the keychain remote control to unlock the trunk and the two front doors. He took the bag from Yami and threw it in the trunk, while Yami went to the passenger's side and got in.
The ride went by silently, Yami was observing people outside the car windows, and every once in a while, Seto's movements in the car. He didn't quite look curious, like if he had never seen these things, but he was absorbing this new information.
Seto turned off the main road and on to one of the small, twisty residential streets, these being of the affluent Seacliff neighborhood. The large houses on either side were perfectly manicured in every aspect, from the stucco on the walls to the blades of grass. Yami could just start to see the ocean above the roofs of the houses.
"You live by the ocean?" Yami asked.
"Yes," Seto replied.
"That's nice. I've always wanted to live by the ocean, I think," Yami said. "It seems familiar."
"Is that so?" Seto said, not really paying attention. Yami noticed this and shot him a dirty look, but looked forward again when Seto pulled into a driveway.
Seto drove up a smooth, concrete driveway and parked in front of a large, two story, Mediterranean style house. The angle of the morning sun made the house cast in shadow, cooling the warm colors of the paint. Seto popped the trunk and got out of the car, while Yami slowly pulled his seat belt off, still looking at the house. When he had got out of the car, Seto locked it and walked up the few stairs to the front door with Yami's things.
The inside of the house was even more grand. Yami walked into the entryway, where a bouncy little kid jumped down the stairs.
"Seto, you're back just in time, I just finished," Mokuba said. Seto handed Yami's things to Mokuba and walked further on into the kitchen.
Mokuba looked after him, but then turned around and saw Yami standing there. "Oh," he noticed Yami and ran down the rest of the stairs. "Hi, my name is Mokuba," he said, extending his hand.
Yami took it, looking confused. "My name is Yami," he replied.
Mokuba moved closer to Yami, staring up into his eyes. "Wow, you have really bizarre eyes," Mokuba said. All Mokuba's worries about the color of Yami's room faded.
"What? Why?" Yami asked.
Mokuba shrugged. "I've just never seen that color. Do you wear contacts?"
"Contacts?" The conversation was taking a turn that Yami couldn't follow.
"Guess not," Mokuba said. "Did you really lose all your memories?"
"Yeah," Yami said. He swayed a little on his feet, and Mokuba noticed.
"You must be tired. Here, I'll show you to your room," Mokuba said, smiling. He bounded back up the stairs with Yami's bag.
Once Yami had climbed the stairs, Mokuba started talking again. "Okay, so your room is the one at the end of this hallway," he pointed to the right end of the hallway, "mine is right next to yours, and across from my room is the bathroom." He looked up to Yami to make sure he was understanding it. "And on the other end," he pointed to the left, "is Seto's bedroom and study."
"You keep calling him 'Seto', does he have two names?" Yami asked.
Mokuba looked up at their guest. "Uh, yeah, I guess so," Mokuba said. "He told you to call him 'Kaiba' right? Well, that's our last name."
"Last name?"
"Yeah. You don't have a last name? Or is 'Yami' your last name?"
"I-I'm just Yami," he said.
"Okay," Mokuba said. "Here's your room. I hope you like it, Seto wasn't any help at all, so I should get all the credit." He smiled, which in turn made Yami smile.
Yami twisted the door knob and opened it up to reveal a medium sized room. There was a bed and night stand, a small desk, and a closet. The bed had dark red duvet and matching pillows, the desk and night stand were both made out of a dark hardwood, and the windows had a different shade of red curtains.
"It's nice, thank you," Yami said, turning around to a shining Mokuba.
"You're welcome," Mokuba said. "I'll leave you alone now." He handed the bag to Yami and left.
Yami placed the bag next to the desk and fell on the bed. It was true that his body didn't feel anything close to the discomfort he felt when he was in the water, but his mind was tired. There was something important that he couldn't remember, something picking at the back of his head. He chose to ignore it for now, and fell asleep.
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A teapot starting whining on the stove, and Seto reached over to remove it. Out of habit, he took a teabag out of the box and put it in a cup, poured the hot water over it, and watched it steep. After the day he had, a nice cup of hot tea would be perfect. So here he was, with a stranger living in his house. At least his brother seemed to take nicely to him, not that there was ever any worries there.
"Wow, Seto," the same brother said, walking into the kitchen. "He's so cool! Can he stay with us forever?"
"No, he cannot stay with us forever," Seto said, walking over to the breakfast nook. "He's not some stray cat, he's probably got a family and a home to go back to, once he recovers his memory."
"What if he never remembers anything?" Mokuba asked.
"The likelihood of that happening is slim to none," Seto said. "And I don't know what will happen to him if that is the case. He's not mine to worry about. And he's not yours to worry about either."
Mokuba sat down across from his brother. "Wonder where he came from," Mokuba mumbled into his hands. "He doesn't look like a normal human. I asked if he wore contacts, but he couldn't remember what they are."
"You shouldn't pry into other people's business," Seto said, sipping out of his cup.
Mokuba stuck his tongue out. "He liked his room though, no thanks to you," Mokuba said.
"You couldn't honestly believe that I would know anything about his likes or dislikes," Seto said.
"Yeah yeah," Mokuba said, sitting up straighter. "So what happens now?"
"We wait."
A/N: Like with so many other chapters of mine, I wasn't quite sure if I should end it there, since there was very little action in this chapter, but it would've been like ten pages if I didn't stop here and I might've not met my deadline! I've still got two more chapters for other fics to write... Please review and show me that I'm not just pressuring myself because I'm a masochist.