Hello, everyone! I know it's been a while. Three-ish months? (cries tears of sorrow and self-hate) I missed you guys! I missed the characters in this story, as well. I'm sorry for the sad state I left it in. It's my entire fault. Suffice to say…I needed a break. Not the story's fault, my own. There hasn't really been much time to live all that much in the past few months. You must forgive. Find it in your hearts!
If any of you are fond of gemshipping, I wrote a story about a month ago dedicated to one of my dear friends that features this pairing. It's there and it's all I have to offer in my past three months of elusiveness/absence.
Anyway, this chapter is poorly written. I'm sorry to give you such slop after making you wait for so long. There's a lime halfway through. Enjoy! Lol, I just thought I should warn certain readers. Heh. Go ahead and read for yourselves.
Warning: Explicit yaoi, mentions of rape, violence, blood, child abuse, extreme language…the list goes on. Please turn away now all those not prepared for the content of this story. I beg of you!
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or Sin City.
Chapter Nine: Pulling Out the Sutures
Sleep was inevitable after that time I spent in Jou's arms. The emotions and revelations of the night had left us exhausted. More had been said in only a few hours than had ever been said in my entire life. I am sure the same was true for Jou.
No words were needed as we sat in the hallway. The front door stared us down, taunting us with unspoken reminders of the unforgiving world outside that foul-smelling apartment. We fought off those taunts with each other's arms. Every few minutes, I would feel Jou squeeze me tightly and then release shortly after. I knew what was meant by that squeeze, though I cannot explain it in words. My response to that momentary hug would be another one, fiercer than his for reassurance. Those hugs made us brave against the door.
Bravery. It was a fairly new thing for me of late. When had I ever been brave? Maybe more than I realized, (much more, as it actually was). Well, when had I ever felt brave? Not for a long while.
We lay there. Quite some time passed. The clock on the wall flicked off many minutes, (hours, I guess), that passed in a particular hazy uncertainty. At first I felt I was asleep, and then I would feel Jou squeezing me tightly. Alright, I suppose that means I am awake. But nothing seemed clear. I have to admit, this haze was soothing to me. I did not know why it was so relaxing to loose control, but I did not give it much thought. The peace was there. Forget why it was there. Maybe I felt…absolved. The forgiving, accepting gaze of my companion had absolved my failings, my weaknesses. Now I felt brave, lo and behold. Brave and calm. Calm and brave. Those two words lodged in my mind and refused to disentangle themselves.
I cannot remember distinctly falling asleep, (does anyone?), but I knew that I had left Jou's embrace when a recognizable feeling of dread suffused my comforted being.
Brave and calm. Calm and…brave, yes…brave…and calm…peace, and strength…calm and brave.
Cold. It was very cold in here…in this apartment, suddenly. Where was the warmth of the protective arms around me? What had happened to the grip of my absolver?
Brave and…calm. Calm and…brave?
Brave…calm…
A harsh push to my left side. Pain shoots through me. My lungs…I gasp for breath.
"Wake up, Seto. Now. Wake up!"
Another push from the persistent hand. Just let me breathe…I cough for a while, eyes fully open now and staring at the hands used to catch my coughs. These hands are marked with something…bruises protrude from the ends of the sleeves on my wrists. This is a common sight. I ignore it.
"Look at me Seto," he says, after a few moments of letting me breathe.
My head turns hesitantly up towards his voice. The face of my stepfather comes into view harshly, fully in focus but making something internal loosen increasingly until it finally detaches itself from me, leaving me bare with fear. What is that something?
"Seto, I have an assignment for you." My mind questions this, but I dare not speak. What kind of assignment? "It is an important assignment, Seto. One that I am entrusting to you out of faith in your competence. Can you handle it?"
Without even knowing what it entails, I know how I must answer. "Hai, Otōsan."
He nods, eyes never leaving my face. "There is a man I would rather like you to meet, Seto. His name is Katsumoto-san. He is a business partner of mine, very important. Of course this concerns you. Everything that has to do with the company concerns you. But you understand that, ne?"
"Hai, Otōsan." Katsumoto-san…I have heard the name around the offices of Kaiba Corp. lately. Everyone has been talking about him. Briefly I am excited to be part of my stepfather's business, but I soon realize that it will hardly be to my liking.
"Good. You see, Seto…this man has recently decided to indulge in high expenditures from his to company Kaiba Corp. Do you know what this means?"
"I do, Otōsan."
"Excellent. Now, it is a large amount of money. Very large indeed. Unfortunately, well…naturally, I suppose…" His head shifts in thought for a moment. I wait. "All this money comes at a price." Violently, he brings his gaze back to mine. Involuntarily, I flinch. Prepared. "Come to my office."
It seems as if we're teleported because suddenly he is sitting behind his desk saying, "The price, Seto, is something comprehensible in the least. But it is something you must do, Musuko." He uses my title to end his sentence: "Son". He binds me to him.
"You see," leaning back in his chair he continues. "Anything valuable comes at a price. If you want something, you pay a price. Now let me ask you: You would do anything for this company, Kaiba Corporations, which is mine but will come into your possession in the event of my death. Is that correct?"
Without even thinking I answer, "Hai, Otōsan." There is no question of whether I do or not. I just do. I have not even asked myself that question, really. I just do.
"Of course. So you are willing to pay the price—any price, whatever may be asked of you—for this company's welfare. Hai?"
"Hai, Otōsan." Again.
"It goes without saying. Here is your assignment. You will meet with Katsumoto-san. Privately. In this meeting you will do whatever he asks of you." His face darkens with a menace I know all too well. I find that my throat is dry. With eyes glinting ferociously, he asks, "Do you understand what this means, Seto?"
I stare at him blankly. I do. Whatever he asks I will do. There is no question of it. My stepfather has asked it of me and I will do as he asks. Especially with his face as dark as that…I lower my head, unable to bear the burden of witnessing him strangle me without his hands. I accept my shame and my fear.
"You will. Tomorrow night you will go to one of our guest rooms. A woman will be there to instruct you as to what you need to do. I think it will be fairly self-explanatory. Then she will leave. You will meet with Katsumoto-san and you will meet his every need. Do you understand? Your entire assignment rests on pleasing this man. Whatever he asks of you. Is that in any way unclear?" Every word is laced with venom. My wrists gleam purple underneath the shirt fabric. Tasteful purple, my stepfather has called it. So different from the luscious red he has introduced me to, as well…I understand all of this.
"Iie, Otōsan." My head remains down.
"Look at me." No, please…don't make me… "Now, Seto."
Gingerly, my vision rises to meet his. Shivers escape across my bruised flesh. But he looks pleased, if slightly bored and annoyed.
"You must do as I say. It is for the good of the company, Seto. Nothing else matters."
I stare at him.
"Do you understand, Seto?"
I shake my head no.
A loud smack on the desk, he looks at me again. "Do you understand, Seto?"
A small flinch, but then I nod vigorously. "Hai, Otōsan."
"Very well. You are dismissed."
I am in the room again. I'm in a bed. So cold…so cold…I can see my breath as I pant in and out. I've been here before. But where am I? It's so dark…maroon walls and a black ceiling. A portrait of a man hanging on one of the walls. I know him, I know his features. This amber-eyed man in his fifties. I've seen him before, around the offices of Kaiba Corp. His name is Katsumoto-san.
The door in front of my eyes. The light behind it seeps in through the cracks, reminding me of the cold woman I met earlier. She told me what I needed to do and set me up in here, exactly as I am now. She was bitter and remote, her eyes like a frozen wasteland that had long ago lost all signs of life, piercing my heart with gloom. Every move she made had force behind it. Just before she left, the woman slapped my face. I do not know why. But the mark stings my cheek
The wind passes through an open window. Suddenly my skin is covered with goose-bumps and frost. I should shut that window…but I can't.
Tears form in the lids of my eyes. I'm so scared I'm dizzy. My panting begins to come out shaky. I can't breathe and I can't…That woman trapped me in here, locking the door.
I look down at myself and gasp. I'm naked and my wrists are chained to the bed post. I look around frantically. This is a bedroom…and I lay here…on the bed. Trapped.
I think I remember why I'm here…
Gozaburo said…he said… "You must do whatever he asks…It is for the good of the company Seto. Nothing else matters."
Nothing else but the footsteps down the hallway. Keys jingle and the then the doorknob turns, revealing a man. He enters slowly, the entire front of him illuminated by the light. A contradiction of normality. Light shadowing darkness? I know him…I know him…he frightens me. If only I could forget why I am here.
His yellow eyes glow in the darkness. I watch helplessly as they stroll down my naked body, feasting on what he sees there as I was his first, (or last, though I have a feeling that I am neither), meal. Suddenly I feel like a piece of meat sautéed on a dinner platter. Is this what Gozaburo meant for me? Am I to be eaten by this…carnivorous man?
He slips off his robe. Immediately everything is clear to me. I try to plead but all that comes out is a whimper or a breathy sigh.
"Shh…" he says, like a father consoling his son. "Don't cry, Seto." He knows my name? I suppose Gozaburo told him that, as well.
Internally, I am screaming as loud as I possibly can, choking on my own screams.
"Stop, please…onegai, please stop…"
"It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you." He has the ability to look right into my eyes as he says this. Maybe it's the likeness of a wolf in those unforgiving eyes that traps me so much. But suddenly I find myself unable to do anything but lie there as he uses me.
Pain…cold…pain…it hurts, "Shh, don't cry." Pain…Suddenly he is a wolf, ripping my throat apart…
Toshokama stands in the background. Fear freezes my heart. Suddenly I am not a child anymore, no longer twelve but now nineteen. My adult self squirms as the wolf gorges himself on my living sinews.
"Get up, whore," Toshokama says. He begins to laugh at me, an evil laugh that reverberates around his office. I choke on the cigar smoke, gasping for breath, the pain…the wolf…the men…the—
"SETO!"
The scream burst through my eardrums, startling my out of the dream as quickly as I had entered. I felt the cold floor beneath me and warm flesh gripping my shoulders painfully in contrast. Nothing came into focus after a few minutes and my skull started to feel like it was being bashed against a wall.
Damn. It was.
I yanked myself out of Jou's vice-like grip, anything to stop him from shaking me into an early grave. "What the hell is your problem?" I shouted, sitting in a crab-like position several feet away from him. The emotions from the dream still tingled within my nerve-endings; my mind feels as though it is unable to detach from that place. If only I could beg it to reconsider.
The shirtless, unstable form of Jou twirled in my confused sight. He stood above me, face contorted in fear and desperation, hands still poised for the onslaught. It took him a few full seconds before he closed his jaw and reacted.
As I held my head, fragments from the dream raced through my thoughts. Amazingly, I could remember everything that had happened. Gozaburo, Katsumoto, Toshokama…the men that ruled my life.
Ruled my life? If only there was some way to revoke this horrible assumption. My severely damaged pride seemed to push away the thought fruitlessly. The message stayed.
In my confusion and shame, I felt Jou kneel down beside me. He was still reeling from his display of violence, but he put a hand on my back soothingly. Yet again his unlikely grace surprised me.
"Seto…" he whispered softly into my ear. "You were sleeping. Dreaming, I guess. I heard you screaming from the other room—you scared the fuck out of me, Seto, I—.."
His hand stroked the bare skin on my back. I shivered. Damn it all. Jou was another of those who I let, (well…let, I guess, is the proper word), rule me. "I was…screaming?" my mouth asked. There had to have been some separation between my mouth, my body and my mind because all three were gravitating in different directions. I had no way of combining them at the moment.
"Hai. You kept sayin', 'Onegai, onegai…please, please stop…' over and over again. I didn' know what to do, so I just started shaking you. You wouldn't wake up, so…" His voice trailed off but his hand remained in motion.
I could understand why Jou panicked. It must have been odd, hearing me in such a way. And I, the one supposed to be strong. How pathetic. "Gomen," I mumbled. Jou did not deserve to be rattled by my nightmares, especially since I had dreamt of something so personal…something recurring.
So that's it, then, I thought. The secret of my nightmares had been revealed. (My mind was still working on a different plane than either my body, which twitched underneath Jou's light touch, or my mouth, which mumbled apologies of things beyond my control.) Katsumoto had managed to transverse the nightmarish world of my waking hours into my dreams. I am not going to deny that he had been there for quite some time, ever since the age of twelve, really, like some sort of defiant dictator, policing my thoughts and my disobedient emotions. My emotions were always so out of control when I thought about him. It disgusted me that just the very mention of his name could send my spiraling into weeks of disgruntled nightmares. But it was a fact of my life that I had to live with. The fact that the wolfish gentleman would always lurk on the borderline of my life's exterior. Just out of reach for every day and still completely ready to formulate at exactly the right moment. That was Katsumoto. If only I could forget the name…
Damn it all. I shut my eyes, reminiscing that I should have figured it out sooner. When had the dreams started? Right after Mokuba mentioned Katsumoto blatantly in the car the afternoon we saw that abject film Sin City…he thought that man could help me with business. Sure. He founded a company that had become a major business conglomerate and retired at the age of sixty, three years after I first met him. Gozaburo had prematurely decided to name him one of the company's most direct sponsors, (apparently the resulting money from my meeting with him proved satisfactory). Even after my stepfather's death, Katsumoto continued to send us money. He completely disregarded every one of my attempts to stop the money flow. Every month, I found another check in the mail especially from him. Did he think that was his little way to repay me for what he did? Did he think that that made it alright, just business? I despised the thought of his self-justification and burned all the checks.
Except for the last three. I needed the last three…the last three were for my company, for the good of the—
Damn it all.
I rested my head in my hands. The sensation of drowning descended over me. I now had the presence of Katsumoto to haunt me. Sure, there were ways of dealing with it; ways that I had devised over the years to keep myself from completely losing my mind. Would they still work when I was making the same deals with another man—this time of my own volition? Iie. I could not think of a reason why they should.
"Hey…"
I jumped. Jou's mouth had been right next to my ear, and my mind had long since been discarded.
"Hey, relax. It's just me, right. And ya' don' have to apologize or nothing…" He gave me a strange look. I stared into his eyes, warm and inviting despite everything. His head was tilted to one side, as if trying to make up his mind about me.
"Nani?" I asked, curious myself as to what went through his mind.
Without warning, Jou stood straight up, startling me yet again. "Come on; get off the floor, at least."
Right. For the first time since waking, I looked around at where I was. Jou had not moved me from the floor, only now we were very much away from the door and into the middle of his corridor. I might as well stand up. Embarrassment flushed my cheeks, though I did not know why. Only a second ago, Jou had been in the same position.
I moved to stand on my own, but Jou grabbed my wrists. "Come on," he encouraged and dragged me to my feet. As soon as we stood at the same height things became slightly awkward. We both knew so much about each other, and yet here I was lying on the floor screaming over some dream Jou knew nothing about.
Yet again, the enthusiastic boy seemed unaffected by the coating of unease settling upon us. He placed a hand on my cheek—almost casually, I noted with shock—and asked, "Were you dreaming of him?"
I said nothing but let his hand explore my face. His delectable fingers applied yielding amounts of pressure to my cheekbones, barely existent touch, and then moved to my forehead. My eyes closed naturally as he felt around the area, testing the depth of the flesh with small pressure. My mouth, (now somewhat connected to my brain which was fried beyond a point of reason), remained frozen by the actions of this hand.
"That guy that rapes you?" If he had known that I was utterly incapable of speech he would have saved himself the breath. Like a piece of ice slowly melting in obscure tendrils of sunlight, my body stood fixated to the floor. Motionless.
"You were, weren't you?"
I wanted to respond, but his hand continued on its path towards my lips. The softness of his fingertips played with the loose flesh there. Without conscious command from my sizzling mind, I administered a kiss to those fingertips as they moved.
The hand stopped. His thin, puppyish face gave me another odd glance. Not another word was needed before our faces met in a quiet kiss. I tasted his supple lips again, for what must have been the fourth time—not that I counted or anything, of course. We stayed there, compressed together by our bodies' entrances, for a little while. I remained very still so the kiss never progressed to anything beyond minimal contact. It was enough.
When the contact became dangerous to our breathing, we separated. "Tell me…" Jou whispered into my face.
Do not tell him, Seto. Do you want him to know what you are?
He already knows.
Do you want him to know more? Do you want him to know what your stepfather made of you? Do you want to be left? He will leave you, Seto.
Somehow…I could not believe that. Perhaps this was some ulterior instinct that I retained about love, (if there were any such things in the first place, which I doubt). But there was no way that my precious liberator—forgiving though he might have been—needed to know about my childhood. I had not told anyone, not one living soul, about that nor would I ever. Some things, regardless what Yugi will tell you, belong deep in the past.
My lips stirred to life. "Hai, but…" My hands wrapped around his waist. "It was only a dream." I wanted to distract him with physical contact. It had worked with ever other human I knew, why not Jou?
Jou willing leaned into the touch, a contented expression fixated on his face, but he still continued to pry. He could do that? Enjoy the touch and still ask questions? No one else I knew could accomplish such a thing…damn that mutt. And yet still, even as he moved spryly between my arms—obviously happy for the attention—I could not help but want to complete him…to kiss him again and again until that smile stayed permanently on those boyish, glossy features.
"But it bothered ya'…" he pointed out, curling up against my chest. "So it must have been worth a damn." He moved his head to stare me in the face. "Tell me. It's ok."
Those eyes…those soft, appeasing, forgiving eyes…they conveyed so much meaning in just a small flick of attention…welcoming me, inviting me to give myself to him…could I deny those eyes? My gut wrenched at the idea of opposing those eyes…and the hands running across my back, again…but my mind screamed at the notion of telling him the truth.
Forget it, Seto. The truth is something he does not need nor want, really…he doesn't know what he's getting himself into by asking for the truth. Do you really want to frighten him? Drive him away by giving him something he doesn't want?
Of course the answer was no.
"Jou…" I whispered, moving closer to his ear. "Dreams are only visions of the past." My heart skipped a beat. Was that giving away too much? My pulse quickened…did he…could he figure everything out from those bare words? I continued speaking, mentally adding ice to my veins to keep the temperature reasonable. "They do not bother me."
I leaned back from his ear. His eyes portrayed a glazed expression, telling me that I had lulled him into a relaxed state. Finally, success with the pup. I found it strange how I consistently failed when I was with him and overly enjoyable when I finally grasped rare success. It should not matter whether or not I won with Jou…but it did in some weird way. Forget that, as well. My obsession with winning was a different matter entirely.
When Jou realized I was no longer speaking to him, he awoke from his trance, though the fog did not quite leave his eyes. Did I detect a small hint of blush grazing his prominent cheekbones, set apart from the rest of his face by a curve of starvation hollows in his cheek? That empty space portrayed so much about him, his hardship, the starkness of his suffering despite his desperate attempts to hide it, and now his embarrassment.
"Oh…uh, right…I guess, they are…umm, what…you…just dreams, right." Not even a sentence. The rueful joy of winning swarmed me; I gave a small smirk which Jou did not see. At least I exhibited the same control over him which he had over me. Equity, I say, is what gives life a point. Hai, I know I am a hypocrite. But…somehow that was alright in the presence of Katsuya-chan, (I had earned the right to add the "chan" suffix at the end of his name).
"Good," I responded, leaning back in the embrace to stare at him fully. "Now, what time is it?"
"Uh…it's uh…" Jou broke out of the hug to check the kitchen clock. One problem solved. "Almost ten in the morning" came the call from inside the kitchen doorway. "It's still early."
"Early?" I raised an eyebrow, entering the room where hearts had been spilled only scant hours before. "You call ten o'clock early?"
Jou threw a glance over his shoulder. "Uh, yeah. It definitely isn' late…" His figure moved towards the sink to wash his hands. I could not believe my vision; the infamously dirty Katsuya actually advocated something as meaningless as hand-washing? Impossible. I decided not to remark on it, though. Why not enjoy the cleanliness while I could?
"Jonouchi…" I sighed, pulling up a chair to sit in. "Three o'clock in the morning is early. Ten o'clock is midday." Interesting conversation we had sparked. Was this…normality? It felt normal, although there was something in the corner of our speech. Something hiding behind the words coming out of our mouths. We were both still unsure of ourselves. And yet…that was alright because…we were with each other.
"Mid frickin' day? Oh, hell, you business freaks are crazy…" A hand yanked on the faucet handle, already poised for the water flow. Nothing happened. "Ah, nuts! Don' tell me…o kudasai…" (please)
"What's wrong, Jou?" Had the faucet broken? It must have been something like that…what else explained the fact of Jou crawling on his knees to search underneath the sink?
Muffled words responded.
"I cannot hear you, mutt…" I sighed. His character was somewhat…charming…even if a little stupid…
He crawled out of the cabinet. "I think the goddamn landlord cut our water again, dammit it all to hell…"
"Cut your water? Were you paying the bill for it?"
Sitting cross-legged, Jou swerved to meet my vision. "Of course I was! Just not as much as the damn guy wanted."
"You have debt, Jou?" My eyes narrowed.
Silence. Then, "It isn't debt! It's just…I don' have the money at this exact point in time. But I promised the guy I would! Eventually."
I stared at him. "That's also known as debt, mutt."
"Don't call me mutt. And so what? I need water, dammit!"
Again, heavy sigh. "Legally, he does not have the obligation to give you your much needed water if you do not pay him the utility bill."
"Whose side are ya' on?" He bellowed.
"Yours, of course. Just pay the man and be done with it."
"You think I have the money for that kind of shit?"
"It's called living, Jou." I knew all too well the cost of living with my recent brush of slight poverty. The boy sitting rigidly in front of me probably knew better than I did.
"Well, I don't have it!" He stood up and tramped to the phone. "Damn guy…cutting my water, fourth time this year…"
"Jou, you can argue with him, but I promise you…"
Too late. Jou had the phone against his ear. "Moshi moshi? … Ya' cut my water again! … But I told ya' I'd have it by next month! … Iie, that is so not what I said last month and the month before! …"
"Hang up the phone," I prompted from the sidelines. He was making somewhat of a fool out of himself.
Suddenly, Jou's expression took a different turn. He went from mad to snow white in all of five minutes. "Wait, wha' did ya'… he's here? … He just went up the stairs … Did he look plastered … Iie, I—.."
Before that particular sentence fragment received incorrect punctuation, I heard a distinct rumbling from outside the apartment. I frowned. This was probably the "he" Jou and the landlord spoke about. Who was "he"? I remained seated, if only a little more cautious.
Jou hung up the phone as quickly as he could. "Get out," he said in a voice entirely different from the relaxed tone he used with me earlier. "Get out, now!"
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"You have to get out!" His hazelnut eyes were wide with fear, chasing me out of the room with a non-vocal power beyond my comprehension. I found myself standing straight up, ready to murder the man that caused Jonouchi so much hardship.
"Jou, tell me who he is." The thumping became louder. Humanly noises followed the bumps, (grumbles, the sound of heavy breathing, as well as other things I could not identify).
My lovely protector was standing before me with a frightened—iie, not frightened. He was terrified. Eyes looked as though they would burst at any moment, hands tense and bony, adjacent to his body as they clenched and unclenched to prove a point. Every slick muscle in his broad form rippled with the adrenaline of the moment. I watched, fixated, even as he screamed in a whisper, "No time. Get in the other room! If he finds you here we're both dead."
His words jolted me to reality. I could put two and two together easily if I tried. "Jou," I said, even as he pushed me forcibly into his messy bedroom with noticeable strength. "Is this your father?"
Scared eyes met mine in a flash. "Just hide…I'll be alright, just…"
"Jou, I'm not going to leave you with him, I know what he does to you—.." The thumps reached the door. The knob jingled and came to life with some rustling of a shaky hand equipped with keys.
"Shit, he found the keys…Just hide, Seto!" I was pushed into the room, the wooden door slammed in my face at exactly the same time another door opened directly across the corridor.
What choice did I have but to remain where Jou had placed me? The sounds from outside were all too real. I listened—ear pressed against the door—with a pained, tearing heart to what my Jou was subjected to every day of his life.
The door creaked open and the grumbles became audible, as did the groaning floor boards as they supported the man's substantial weight. "Hey, Pop," Jou said in English with surprising casualness. I guessed "Pop" meant "Dad" in his language.
"What are you up to, kid?" The voice sounded like the grating of a broken car engine as it strains to produce the same noises it once did, command the same usefulness it once had, but ultimately fails nonetheless. I listened to this man as he failed to obtain the normal fatherly tone a sober man would take. The sake—or perhaps it was American beer—rang in every syllable of his voice. I had an unmistakable feeling that his voice was like this even when he was not drunk, that he had just acquired this tine through years of drunkenness and knew no other way to speak.
Why did this voice remind me of Jou? The accent? The relationship? The genes? My mind could not understand the connection. So, instead of fighting the thoughts, I listened helplessly behind the door.
"Nothing," I heard him move away from the door slowly, walking out into the unsafe territory. It was as if we were physically tethered together; with every step he took farther away from me I felt myself long for him increasingly, the strain of our bonds tugging mercilessly on my stomach. "It's early…you want some breakfast?"
They both spoke fluent English. Some words were difficult to make out. "Breakfast?" He said something I could not translate. "Is there anything to eat in this shithole?"
" 'Course there is. I went shopping just the other day, damn it!" I was shocked over the liberal tone Jou took with his father. There was a clear lack of respect in that voice.
"The other day? What the hell day was that?"
"I dunno…some day, to hell if I know." In a sick way, father and son almost sounded alike.
The sound of cabinet slamming reached my ears. They were walking around in the kitchen, I guessed. A low belch escaped Jonouchi Sr. If I had not already decided to hate him I did at that moment in time.
"There's no food in here!" He shouted angrily.
"It's right in front of you!" Something that sounded like delicate silverware clunked on the table. A chair scraped across the floor.
If only I could see them…my mind could conjure no explanation for my desire to see them, but I could identify with the need for visual reassurance. What exactly did this man look like?
"Tastes like dirt!" Some chewing sounds coupled with a full mouth. "You make me eat this?"
"You could starve, ya' know."
"The hell you get off treating your old man like that?"
"It's the truth, Pop."
The same word I did not know. Then, "Think of all I do for you…I deserve better than this."
I could tell Jou bit back the response to that remark. Definitely a good idea. As long as Jou was acting with intelligence, I concluded that I did not need to as my hand slowly turned the door knob. It opened just a crack, just enough to see into the kitchen.
A portly man sat at the table, his profile directly in my line of sight. He looked in his late thirties, American, faded blonde and balding. Either he had a bout of roseate or he had extremely high blood pressure because a stark redness stained both his cheeks and it looked permanent. An overweight stomach spilled over his dirt-encrusted blue jeans from underneath the sweaty orange t-shirt he wore. The sight of him more or less measured up to how my mind pictured him, ever since the conversation I overheard with Yugi. It was the sight of Jou that unnerved me. He stood above his father completely rigid but also completely…causal. His father looked like he almost did not bother him, though I know better. Fear hid underneath his surface, pumping through his veins like sour venom, filling his precious body with toxin.
My Jou…
This man had absolutely no right to do this to my Jou. Absolutely none. My hands tightened around the doorknob in fury, white with rage.
"Just eat the food."
A few moments passed. It seemed as if my thoughts were suspended in the purely primal hate enveloping my mind. I could not think about anything other than that, (which was fortunate because I might have lost the will of anger if I had).
When the food was gone, the fat man turned to his son and demanded, "I'm thirsty. Get me glass of water from the sink."
Finality. Jou turned another shade of white.
"There's…uh…there's uh…" Was he really going to confess to the lack of water in their living space? I found that a stupid idea. But then, what else could he do?
"Spit it out…"
Jou shifted his weight from one foot to the other and ran a hand through his hair. I had seen him do that before. Was it some kind of reassuring tick he owned? Immediately I found myself attached to that hand. Its movement had a…maddening affect on me.
"Well, uh…like, you haven't been going to work lately, and I've been really busy so…I honestly don't know what you expect." He was avoiding the question. I wondered how long that would work.
"What are you sayin'?" The man shifted in his seat to turn sloppily in front of his son.
The younger blonde swiftly turned to the sink and thrust the faucet in a way that should have gushed water through the spout. Nothing. "There ain't no water. Landlord cut it again."
"Goddammit!" the fatter man slurred. A line of saliva flew from his mouth in the process.
"Look, we're not paying the damn bills! Legally, he doesn't really have to give us money from the utility we're not paying and…" O the familiarity in that. He had gotten some of the words confused from my speech, but most correct. Not like it mattered. His father was not capable of listening to more than a few words at a time.
"No water?" He had interrupted with a meaningless, unintelligent shout. I did not like that either.
"No money," his son responded, defensively crossing his arms across his chest.
"There's plenty o' money!" Somehow he was standing now. Amazing how he had managed to topple on his feet.
"What are you talking about? There's no money!"
The response came so quickly it connected with Jou's last word. "You been sending money to that bitch in America?" It was half a question, half an accusation. More of an accusation, I realized. Even if Jou said no the man would not have believed him.
But he did not even begin that argument. "She was your wife. And she needs money."
"You sent her OURS!" There seemed to be hate between both of Jou's parents. That surprised me. Why would his father hate his mother? Or vice versa? I narrowed my eyes and kept watching.
Jou's demeanor changed. He looked completely engulfed by anger, as I was. This man who had entered the apartment so ungracefully. He ruined our happiness. Just as it had come, it had left. I wanted to wrap the boy in my arms and hold him until our anger passed. If only I could reach him…
"What is wrong with you? Why would you do something that stupid? We don't have any money because you give it all away to those bitches in America. There's never any water, any food, any heat around this goddamn place! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Well, maybe we'd have money if you didn't waste it all drinking—.."
I ceased to think of that man in Jou's company as his father from that point on in the rest of my life. Parents and children, (specifically biologically related, I think), have a certain unspoken code of symbiosis that needs to be upheld. Children grow up sane with love from their parents, and parents learn about their humanity and fairness from their children. Each needs the other to survive. A codependent relationship. I did not have this with my stepfather, (indeed, it was quite the opposite), but I would never wish the same way of life on anyone else. There was something so inextricably wrong about it. Parents that treat their children in such a way do not deserve the title of "parent". At least, in my eyes.
So, when the man in Jou's company took a blatant swing at the face of my puppy, I was far from thinking about the familial ties between the two. My mind was occupied with thoughts of how to murder this gentleman of little values. The shouts, "How dare you talk to me like that!" and "You got nothing without me!" bounced in and out of my eardrums with little recognition.
I spoke earlier of the separation between my mind and body. It had ended previously up until that point, but as soon as his humungous fist crashed into my beloved's face, I believe the split happened again.
Silently, without a mind capable of protestation, I watched my legs rush out the door and into the kitchen. Defensively, I stood in front of my Jou. I latched onto that disruptive fist, keeping it in stationary and away from the battered boy cradling his face behind me. Dumb ears listened as an alien, gruff voice poured out of my lips saying in clear English, "You touch him again and I will fucking kill you."
Jonouchi Sr. had animal-like eyes. They looked dull and listless, drooping down at the corners somehow. Broken blood vessels showed plainly in the "whites" and a tired iris of watery chocolate expressed little emotion or feeling in the situation. It was the sheer absence in those eyes that struck me. As if the negativity were lethal.
I heard the man say, "Who the hell are you? Where did you come from? What the hell are you doing in my house?" The questions came in rapid succession; he just wanted answers.
"I am a friend of your son." Best to leave it at that. I had fixed my expression with a cold, icy demeanor, so I'm sure he understood that my identity and my business there were not the matter at hand. "Now. Put down your fist and get out of this house before I kill you."
"This is my house!" He shook his fist in rage and began swinging with the other hand. I caught it. We were now locked in a position of hand combat. The guy was strong, I'll admit. Though not nearly as strong as some of the men I had faced in my life. His power lacked focus. Raw muscle does not win a fight.
We wrestled each other for a few moments. Jou screamed from the background, "What the hell is wrong with you? Get out of there!" I am not sure who these shouts were directed at—if they even had direction in the first place. Unfortunately, there was no stopping now. I had opened a door, (literally), that could not be closed by merely backing away. Letting go now meant certain death, not to mention the complete loss of my love's honor.
This stand-off lasted a few more minutes. Then boredom pervaded and I felt like remaining in such a compromising position could be dangerous. So, I lashed out with my leg and hooked the back of his knee. Unable to defend without his arms, the man toppled over onto his face with a low yelp. I could have beaten him some more, but I did not think it was necessary. The message was clear who had won.
I dug my knee into his spine and grabbed the back of his shirt with one hand and a handful of dirty blonde hair with the other. Using all my strength to heave this whale of a man to his feet, I began walking him menacingly to the front door saying, "Get out of this house and don't ever come back." When we reached the door, I rammed his face into it twice, (maybe three times. I stopped when blood stained the dark wood).
"That's the door. If you ever see this door again—if I ever see you again—you are dead. Understand?" I took one hand and opened the door, throwing the man out onto his broken nose and bruised face.
Calmly, resolutely, I began kicking him so he staggered to his feet and ran down the stairs through the exact same route he entered. The moment I saw his hair fade into the distance, I closed the door quietly.
That was one problem solved, at least.
I turned slowly back to Jou, my mind fully entering my body again with a rush of thought. It was not the type of thought that would have prepared me to defend my actions. Instead, I felt like I was swimming in confusion made by my own hand. Silently, I grasped my head and closed my eyes.
What the hell did you just do? The voice had returned to me. Always at the loveliest of times.
What had I done? I had just thrown Jonouchi Sr. out of his own house in defense of my Jou. Was that legal? It did not matter. It was not like his actions were legal, (beating up his own son), and it was not at all like the man would even bother to show his face to the police, anyway. So. I had just defended my poor…
My poor Jou.
My head whipped up and my eyes flashed open. Jou. Was he alight?
A silhouette of Jou stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He was a silhouette, like an outline of his former self. Every feature of Jou was there, every speck of blonde hair and every follicle of skin, yet there seemed to be missing one thing: Jou himself. His eyes were fixated on the door, unmoving, unblinking. Was he in shock? Was he still frightened? Was he…pleased? Was he angry? I missed the consistent feature of the boy that always told me exactly what he felt. His sleeve bearing his heart. I missed those sleeves.
"Jou?" I asked tentatively, unsure if my presence was even welcome here anymore. My voice seemed to shatter the suspension in time that had settled in since the fat man left, (left is an adequate word for it). I felt exposed after it was gone. Was this the time to somehow explain myself? Slowly, I took a step in his direction. He did not move.
I took another step. Nothing. A few more steps. Not even an eyelid flickered. One, two, three more steps…I was on top of him.
His face looked horrible. The left side was enlarged and had turned a deep, noticeable crimson precisely on his cheekbone, just below his eye. I could tell that in a few hours that mark would be purple. The wounds already looked so painful. His right eyelid lapsed permanently over his eye, engorged with broken capillaries. It was much the same color as the left side with a more pronounced tint of purple because it seemed as though he had been punched there first. Luckily, I had stopped the man before he had a chance to inflict any more damage to his…well, son is a stretch of the imagination.
His face…his beautiful, carefree face…so broken and marred…at the hands of that thing that had just decided it was alright to beat this…protector of mine. I wished, for a second, that I had killed him. It might have made the hate lessen.
"Jou," I whispered into that injured face, clasping his head with both of my hands, as quietly and softly as possible. His eyes wavered up to meet mine. Using his native tongue of English, the question rolled out of my mouth before I could stop it: "Are you alright?" I had not meant his physical self.
"Do I look alright?" he asked in the same language, using a loud tone of voice that exploded in my face.
Shaking my head, I responded, "No, I did not mean that. I meant…are you alright?"
This new proposition took him a while to digest. When he figured it out, he looked up at me and said in a quieter pitch, "Why did you do that?"
"I am not going to stand by and let you be hurt. By anyone."
"That guy was my father…" He blinked back the emotion welling to the surface. I wished he had let me see it. Every single part of me wanted to know what he felt at that moment.
"Not as far as I am concerned."
At this, he closed his eyes. "Aishiteru, Seto." (I love you) The words tumbled out of his mouth quickly. I barely understood them. Although, I knew what he was going to say before he said it. More or less, the hearts on his sleeve could never be hidden entirely from view. Jou was that kind of person.
Switching back to Japanese, I responded, "I know." Something within me hesitated before returning the words. The situation had changed to an argument with Mokuba. Instead of breaking down and admitting I loved the boy, ready to beg for his forgiveness as my body demanded, I stood tall and proud, saying not a word. What was wrong with me? Why were the words so difficult to say?
Did I love Jou?
How should I know that? I just knew that…he had shown me kindness and understanding that people had never shown me before. He had accepted me for who I was—all of who I was. No one had ever done that before. The sight of him made me weak and involuntarily prone, susceptible to the slightest of touches. The feel of him…as he was doing at that moment, reaching around my back and grasping me closer to him…made me quiver…
"Seto…" the boy sighed and leaned in to kiss me. I kissed him back readily, enjoying the palpably soft taste of his lips against mine. The inviting warmth of his tongue…the cold, slippery fingers running down my back…my body shaking against the sensations, his own body joining me without shame.
The mood had shifted slightly. We were no longer trapped in this hellhole of an apartment. Now we were hovering above the cruel reality that disfigured Jou and scarred me, orphaned Yugi and traumatized Mokuba. That reality. That horrible living nightmare where nothing ever seemed to work out in my advantage, or anyone's advantage for that matter. People were cruel. Dogs everywhere bit the hands of their feeders. Men stole and killed to get what the wanted. Money served as driving, divine force behind the greedy minds of men. People died leaving innocent children to fend for themselves in the bitter underworld of grief and purposelessness. People hated themselves and would do anything to make themselves feel better, to survive the onslaught of self-loathing that attacked their bodies and minds relentlessly, driving them to unreasonable ends. Killing them, sometimes. No one got anything for free or took anything for granted before it was snatched out of their hands in despicable irony. The world was lonely, unforgiving. Jou and I were just caught up in the midst of it with our lives.
And yet, in each others arms…we were free. Jou and I escaped. I escaped through him and he escaped through me. It was freedom, really.
I continued to kiss him, pressing myself harder against his soft body. He responded willingly, doing the same. Before long, the kiss progressed into something much more than a kiss. It became a plea. A plea for help and release. The only sound reaction was to keep kissing and keep touching until the plea silenced itself. The demand for help became a demand for flesh. I wanted him. Immediately.
Abandoning all reason, I bit down against his lip, the most accessible thing to me. The body in my arm twitched and he moaned readily. Then I began chewing the lip, eliciting more cries from him, enjoying the sounds and the taste of blood slowly seeping out of the soft skin…but I did not want to hurt my love. So I stopped and moved away from his mouth.
His single eye stared up at me in question, wondering what I had in mind. My hands grasped his lower back. I pushed his lower half into me roughly and wrapped my legs around his, entwining us further. Jou groaned again in ecstasy. I kissed his forehead with passion and ran my lips down his face to the side of his neck. After sniffing the skin in fetish, causing him to shudder, I kissed the spot feverishly. His aroma was so…feral.
The boy's hands were fumbling around with my pants. He could not seem to find the front of them. Moving my own away from his back, I slid them around to my front and let him fumble with the buttons as I continued my movements.
His collarbone protruded temptingly. I kissed it and wrapped my mouth around it subtly, sucking on the skin and bone gladly. I felt my pants drop. Everything suddenly became a lot colder…but I ignored that and moved hands to the muscle shirt clothing the boy before me. Grabbing the loose material around the bottom, I carried it over his head and threw it to the side of the room without a second thought.
The sight of his chest was…unbelievably satisfying. His skin was toned and his muscles were visible but humble. His ribs were evident underneath the thin flesh, but nothing like starvation hollows. I ran my hands over the bones, drinking in the sight. Jou looked at me impatiently. He wanted me to move faster, I understood that. So I offered him relief and kneeled down on the floor, kissing his skin softly. There was so little thought involved in this process, like the entire thing was so natural. There was no shame in the fact of kneeling before Jou begging to give him pleasure. There was just the moment. I liked that.
My mouth ran over the ripples in his skin, moving down slowly to his pelvis where I administered deep kisses that brought Jou down to his knees, facing me. Slowly, without my even realizing it, he moved down on top of me. I let his warmth cover my own, barely noticing how reminiscent this is of my times with another man…
Jou kissed my face and then moved down to my naked body. His hands wrapped around my neglected erection and began pumping me…slowly…I squirmed beneath his touch, convincing him to move on. He went harder, faster…I felt myself slowly ascending…slowly…
And abruptly he stopped.
"Jou," I demanded harshly. His puppyish grin was all that responded. "Jou, what are you doing?"
"I'm having fun," he replied. Damn him. He moved to lie on top of me, but I stopped him. If he was allowed to have fun, then so was I. As he moved downward, I caught his arms and sat up. The playful look in his eyes reached a point of happiness. Was Jou enjoying this game? This game of control, then?
Whatever. This was admittedly amusing…though, I still remembered my own purpose. I put a stopper on the enjoyment bubbling within myself and pushed myself on top of Jonouchi. Enjoyment in this? That was something…entirely new to me. When was sex enjoyable? When you were with someone you loved and cared for? Perhaps…
Yanking the thoughts out of my brain, not wishing to think of anything other than the supple body beneath my own, I climbed into a ready position in between Jou's legs. Removal of his pants was difficult at first, my fingers tingles with anticipation and my eyes found it hard to concentrate on something so small at the moment. Jou's hands helped me slightly towards the end, his own body so impatient for the next move.
When he was ready, I prepared him only with saliva. Regretting that this was not the safest thing to do, but not having time to get my head around anything but the haven of love we had created, I slammed into him. The sweet sound of his release mixed with my own sudden orgasm tumbled over my ears and through my mind, filling me with bliss for the span of a full second. We rested on each other's bodies for a moment. Then I sat up and began again, prepping for the second time…
You can imagine the rest of the night, I'm sure.
It took a while after we finished for the two of us to notice that we had had sex in the corridor between Jou's kitchen and front door. Neither of us preferred the thought of moving. Our bodies were exhausted.
Laying in his arms, (it was difficult, really, to tell who exactly lay on top of who, so we just knew that our bodies were connected indefinitely), I tried to organize the thoughts in my head. Amazingly, I found that there was little to organize. There had only been the pleasure of the evening…the bliss of Jonouchi…and the escape. The wonderful escape.
Was there a time when I thought sex could only be cruelty? Of course. All the men that had used me throughout my life had proved that much. But Jou had taught me that there was something more to the act than just being used. There was something much more beautiful than that…but I could not put my finger on it.
Forget it. The voice had changed its tone. It was no longer taunting and ridiculing, it was a lot calmer. Had the voice changed forever? The thought sent a swell of uncertainty to well within me. What would happen if this voice changed…
Forget everything. There is only now, Seto. Only now in this boy's arms. That's what you should concentrate on.
Only now. Well, "now" was something I could accustom myself to. This was peaceful.
I looked down at Jou, wondering if he was asleep. His eyelids were closing, (the marks on his face did not look so glaring in the fading daylight). We were both bathed in orange from the light seeping in from the outside world. It reminded me of the first time we had almost kissed. This would be dubbed my "Jou time". That was the only thing that made sense.
"Seto…" The whisper startled me from gazing.
"Nani?" I asked, making sure my tone was not too harsh.
Jou looked happy and slightly contented in the suspension between sleep and wakefulness. "I forget to tell you earlier…"
I tilted my head, interested in what he had to say.
"Your English is pretty good…"
I smiled. "Thank you," was my English response.
Silence for a few moments. I guessed that it had come as a surprise to him that I knew his language. The thought had never entered my mind, although it did have a ring of convenience…but that was another thought which I did not care to think of.
"Seto," the figure next to me started again. The stressed tone in his voice told me that there was something he had to say before he fell asleep. "I have to back to America."
Shock flowed through my veins. He wanted to leave? Already?
"So soon?" I asked.
"Soon as I can. My mother…she needs me bad, Seto." His eyes showed similar emotion to what he had shown me last night. "I don' have any money, but…maybe…maybe…somethin'…special will happen if I'm there. And if not, then…I want to be with her and…with my sister…if she…dies." The last word surprised me. He could say that word? Amazing. Most people shied away from it at the first consonant.
Swallowing my disappointment, I asked, "How are you going to get there?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. But I'm goin'. As soon as I can…" A yawn escaped his lips, cutting off the rest of his words. I liked that idea, cutting him off. So I rested my fingers on top of his head and told him softly, "Go to sleep…you're tired…go to sleep." He obeyed me without a moment's thought.
So I lay there. The only one awake after what had been the most erotic and sensual night of my life.
It was ruined. Jou needed to leave me—leave this entire country—for his family. He needed to be away from me to fulfill his own goals, save his family. As much as I wanted to, there was not a single argument in my mind to refute that wish. Jou needed to be released from this place. There was nothing for him here, now that his father had been kicked out. (Or supposedly, anyway.)
And what of his father? Or, the man that shared his company now and again, as was his proper title? Would he be back anytime soon? If so, then he would bring all his anger and shame with him, which meant more trouble for both of us. He would be trapped here. Iie, that was not an acceptable outcome.
So, if Jou left now…right this very night…
The peacefulness crashed around my head with a loud, silent bang. How long did I expect this to last? Forever? I knew that I had wanted that, that impossible break in this world. How could I possibly expect that? Nothing ever happened that way.
I had my own problems to deal with. My company was still failing rapidly. Yugi's grandfather was still dead. Mokuba still needed to be loved. Toshokama's evening approached the date on quick, demonic wings. Where had those thoughts gone during my time with Jou—Jonouchi? Did not thinking about them make them disappear? Certainly not.
So. Then. It was settled. I needed to do what I needed to do. For Jou's sake and my own. For Mokuba's sake. For Yugi's sake. For the sake of my company.
For the good of the company, Seto. Nothing else matters.
Goddamn it, Gozaburo. I shook the thoughts from my mind. That had nothing to do with this. I would not let it invaded me again.
Carefully unwinding myself from around Jou's body, I stood up and found my pants. A lot of energy was put into each step of my weary legs, but I had been through worse exhaustion. At least this exhaustion rang of something pleasurable.
I locked my arms behind Jou's neck and underneath his legs. Scooping him up delicately, I began to carry him quietly into the bedroom. He did not even flinch as I tucked the sheets around him. The boy was dead tired. If only I could heal the wounds on his face…No time. With one last glance at his heavenly face, I turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Such a useful door. It served as the divider between the two of us twice.
My shoes and socks were by the door, of course. I slipped them on and went hunting for my shirt and jacket. Jou had placed my shirt in the bathroom by the sink, where he had kindly washed all the vomit off of it. It looked fairly clean. I could change when I arrived home. My long jacket hung quietly in his apartment closet, where I knew that no harm had come to it. Not a single object had been removed from the inside pockets. Dōmō, Jonouchi. I thought. There were useful things within this coat.
Fully clothed, I stood before the front door, contemplating my next move. Jou was leaving for America as soon as possible, (to use his words). He did not know how…I guess my next move had already been decided for me.
Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out my checkbook. $300. That should be enough to get a one-way trip plane ticket to America, wherever he wanted to go. Hopefully the damn thing would not bounce. I doubted it. There were still savings in my bank account that I was afraid to touch. Those savings well exceeded one thousand dollars. But a person cannot live their life on that much. So I decided to leave it where it was. Seven hundred was reasonable for the sake of Jou's okāsan (mother).
Leaving just the check on the kitchen table seemed too cryptic. Cruel, even. So, I pulled out the single sheet of paper I had: The paper with Jou's phone number on it. I doubt that I would need it wherever the boy was going. Flipping it over to the back, I took out a pen and wrote in legible script:
That is more than enough for a plane ticket to America. I guess we both still have our own demons to fight.
--Seto
Simple, it's true, but it was all I could give him. Words of love and devotion are not written on paper or spoken through the mouth. They are felt. I could not write feelings to Jou.
After glancing illicitly at the door to Jou's bedroom, I turned around abruptly and went to the front door. Standing in the corridor, I weighed my options of where to go next. Home? Work? Oh, so many choices. Home sounded like the more logical one. I wanted to know if Yugi had not killed himself yet.
Blood still stained the wood. That would be there for a while, I had a feeling. Twisting the knob silently, I stepped out of the apartment that had been such therapy for me these pats few days.
I shut the door with a click. Damn it all. I did not need therapy. I needed to end this. That was the plan.
Yet, I thought as I made my way down the stairs and into the fresh night air, the apartment had healed me in ways leaving could not erase. Then why did it feel like I was pulling the sutures out of my own broken body by walking out the door?
Such a question was too morbid to answer. Instead, I concentrated on the open air of the night. Hopefully I could find my way home from here. It did not really matter. My Kaiba Corp. building always shone brightly to lead me in some direction. All I had to do was follow it.
Breathe, I commanded myself. Breathe the mobile air.
My body ached all over. Walking is still painful, Jonouchi…
A/N: Ok, it's over. Wow. The infamous ninth chapter that took me three months to finish. It's done! Yay! (sighs in relief)
Alright…I'm thinking that that was more like a lemon? I'm not sure. What really defines the limits between lemon and lime? What do you guys think? Did you like it? I know it wasn't really very exciting…but think about it: Seto and Jou together. Isn't that exciting by itself? (receives blank looks from readers) Maybe not.
Did anyone figure out who Katsumoto was before this chapter? Just wondering. I felt like I was giving too much away before. Oh well. At least his identity was finally revealed. (Finally.)
Thanks for reading this everyone. I love you guys so much…it will be interesting to see who stayed with it after such a long time. Please review! I miss you all. (offers greeting cards on the way out)