A/N: AND I HAVE FULFILLED MY PROMISE! Here's the third and final chapter in my have-to-get-three-chapters-for-my-YGO-fics-posted promise. Wow, it's been a really long time since I've posted on this fic, partially because I've had major WRITER'S BLOCK, and partially because I've just been procrastinating. I had fun typing this, mainly because for the majority of it I had acrylic paint all over my fingers, it's very interesting have a polymer-based paint covering your hands when you type. Like a skin-tight plastic glove. (Just in case anyone wanted to know, I also half-finished my painting for art class, I'm just on a roll with completing things.) Oh, yeah, and the reason I had paint all over my fingers is not because I'm a messy painter (well, that might be true) but because I have given up the brush and switched to fingers! Brushes don't like me and I don't like them.

Anywho...like anyone actually wants to know about my painting technique... I sure hope people didn't get too put off by the fact that I haven't posted for four months and people still read this. It's not terribly good, but it's something. Still, though, I'm finding it hard to stick in character and still have Kaiba be not a bastard 'cause he needs to gain Yami's trust. Ew, and also trying to keep Yami noble while still making him act like he has had a rough, oppressive life. I hope I'm doing okay...but I'll understand if you say it's OOC.

I'm pretty sure that's all I have to say...not that it wasn't a lot... Thanks everyone who will read this for sticking with it.

Disclaimer: I've written too many of the these over the last week.

Chapter Four:

Yami sat at the large desk, head drooped over, his face a perfect mold of concentration. His hand was starting to hurt from being in a foreign position for the whole day and he could hardly see due to the setting sun, but he didn't want to stop. He was fascinated by the black squiggly lines that people could recognize as letters, and more complexly, words. He was starting to recognize them too.

A day or two after the outing, Seto had gotten a note from someone, and this was how he learned Yami couldn't read. It wasn't like Yami should be able to read, he wouldn't need it in his line of work, but Seto still insisted that Yami learn how to read and write. And the day after that, Seto entered his room and presented a red, leather-bound journal for Yami. Yami looked at the book and then up at Seto.

"It's beautiful," Yami said, taking the book from Seto. He examined it thoroughly, opening it up and brushing his fingertips along the rough paper and feeling the smooth cover.

"You can practice writing in that," Seto said.

"Am I really going to learn how to read and write?" He asked. Why would anyone want to teach a slave to read and write?

"Yes," Seto replied, sitting down on the couch. "And we're going to start right now."

Seto was surprised by the amount Yami already knew. He could list the letters of the alphabet, write out some of them, especially that of his name, and he was eager to learn. This combination made for a very quick study, and by the end of the day, Yami could write out simple words and recognize even more than he could write.

Seto leaned back on the couch. "That's enough," he said. "I leave early tomorrow, but I want you to write in that journal every day that I'm gone, and if you get stuck on a word, just sound it out."

So writing gave him something to do while Seto was out, that note obviously contained something that worried Seto to have him be gone for almost two weeks. Yami's letters were looking much better, he would pull books off of Seto's bookshelf and study the words, or more importantly, the particular shape of the singular letter.

That left Yami alone in his master's room, crouching over the desk and writing in his small, red journal. So far, he had nothing of importance to write about, mainly he would comment on the weather, maybe a strange dream he had. He rarely dreamed, so those entries were infrequent, but when he did, they were very boring. Most of the time he thought he was awake, ambling about in a large castle, with absolutely nothing on his mind. In times before, these dreams had been refreshing, a break from every day life, and now they were dreadful.

Yami looked up when he heard a soft knock on the door. In came a servant looking slightly uncomfortable. Yami and the servants had a tentative relationship since Seto had left, the servants knew that Yami was below them, but they couldn't treat him as such because he had the favor of their master as well. So they stepped lightly in his presence, but Yami could still sense a bit of a condescending behavior coming from them.

The servant looked down at the ground and stuttered. "Your clothes are here," she said quietly. Behind her, another servant came in with an arm load of clothing, and the impulse in Yami to help those of higher status than him kicked in. He suppressed it, watching the servant struggle to place the clothing on the couch.

When the servants exited the room, Yami ran over to the new clothes. Attached to a jacket was a note, and since Yami was getting more and more proficient at reading, he could make out that it was intended for Seto. He attempted to read it anyway, and could understand that these were just a few of the items Seto had paid for. That made Yami's insides flip as he searched through all the clothing already there, and thinking about how there could possibly be more.

Finally, he picked out a frilly, off-white shirt and black slacks, over which he donned a deep burgundy coat. These clothes fit perfectly, unlike all other forms of clothing he had worn in his life. Something in the note had also said that if there were any alterations needed, Seto should feel free to stop by and get it fixed, but Yami could tell already that the seamstress had done an excellent job on getting his size and proportions correct.

Yami yawned and looked around the room. The only light was that coming off of the candle he had been writing by, giving the shadows their own personalities. He walked over to the desk and picked up the candle, walking back over to the bed. He put the candle down on a small table next to the bed and took his coat off, placing it on the foot of the bed. Yami crawled into the bed and under a blanket, still wary of getting underneath all of the covers. The last two weeks of being alone had been the best two weeks of Yami's life, because the threat of everything he had ever worried about was close to nothing. Though, going on two weeks of being alone, Yami was getting uneasy about his master's return. He wasn't sure if anything would change in Seto's attitude toward Yami's duty, but in Yami's experience, it never hurt to be cautious.

Yami's eyes fluttered open as he felt a small portion of his body being warmed with sunlight. When did I fall asleep? He thought. Automatically, he turned around and looked at the rest of the bed to make sure he was alone. He relaxed when he saw it was empty. One more day of freedom.

He glanced over to the couch, wondering what he was going to wear, when something else caught his eye. It was a hand. Slowly and without making a sound, Yami got off of the bed and walked over toward the chair. As he neared the chair, two legs came into view, and he released the breath he was holding.

Yami put a hand on the sleeping figure's shoulder and lightly shook. The form stirred, but didn't wake up.

"Master," Yami said quietly, shaking a little harder.

Seto's blue eyes opened slowly. He looked confused as to where he was, and then turned this gaze upon Yami.

"What are you doing sleeping on the chair?" Yami asked.

Seto stiffly sat up further, grimacing at his sore back. "You were already asleep, and I thought against climbing into bed with you. Figured it would result in something I didn't want to deal with that late at night."

"So you slept in a chair? It's your bed, you should do anything you want," Yami said. He felt bad for having his master feel he should sleep in a chair, but was also touched by the thoughtfulness.

Seto shrugged and looked away. "Did you have any trouble when I was away?"

"I was pretty much left alone," Yami replied. "The servants don't like me that much."

"Good," Seto said.

"They must respect you, or fear you, to let me be," Yami said. Seto glanced back up at Yami's face, but returned to the wall in front of him.

"I have to go report on the situation to my father," he said, getting up. "I'll be back."

Before Seto could leave, Yami spoke up. "May I look around the grounds while you're gone?" In truth, Yami didn't want to do it without Seto there; he knew he was safe in the room, but couldn't be sure about on the outside.

"I don't care, do what you want," Seto said.

Yami waited until the door closed shut before he walked over to the bed and picked up his coat. He had wanted to look around for some time now and was excited about discovering more.

Yami had been arounda bitof the castle when he came up upon the stables. They were far larger than any of the similar ones he had seen in the past, and he guessed they must house a lot of horses.

He walked into the stables and confirmed his suspicions. There were many horses housed in neat rows, and many stable hands tending to them. A lot of the stable boys looked younger than Yami, as he walked past them rushing around with buckets and combs. Some of them were cleaning out the stable pens, some were washing the horses and cleaning out their hooves. For stables, they were remarkably clean, but with this many people looking after them, Yami didn't find it out of the ordinary. They were all so organized, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it. Like so many bees in a beehive.

Yami walked up the rows of pens, looking for one horse in particular. Most of the pens had horses in them, the colors ranging from a dark chestnut color to light cream. A few roans were threw in here or there, but the majority were in the brown range. This made it easier for Yami to find the particular horse he was looking for.

When he came upon the only black horse in the stable, it was only fitting that the stable was one of the cleanest, with a beautiful silver placard etched with "Spirit" on the side. Yami smiled as he spied the horse, it's snout hidden in a feeding bag. Yami could see the horse's attention shift from his food to this new visitor, but his kind face was more than enough to calm Yami.

Yami stuck a hand over the low door, gaining the complete attention of the horse. Spirit shifted over to Yami, rubbing his soft snout on Yami's hand. Yami began rubbing the horse up the nose and in between the ears, earning a light neigh. The horse's long, wavy bangs fell over his eyes, making him look like a kind old man. Yami enjoyed petting the horse, but gave it one final pat and went on his way. He had hardly covered half of the grounds, and still wanted to go through the woods.

Yami shivered as he left the barn, what with there being so much more activity in there making it warmer. The sun was just about as high in the sky as it would get, so Yami didn't have reason to believe it would get much warmer. He wrapped his arms around his torso to keep warmer and walked on.

The woods on the grounds weren't as dense as Yami would've guessed, light easily streamed through the branches to create a clear path through the underbrush. There was no beaten path, so Yami stepped lightly around small bushes and other various plant life, until he came to a small clearing with a stream running through it. The stream wasn't moving too fast, causing it to sound like many small whispers. Yami walked up to it and crouched down. In this part of the wood, the water wasn't very deep either, he could see the rocks lining the bottom. He dipped his fingertips in the water, but quickly retracted them feeling how cold it was. It occurred to him that winter was fast approaching, so everything was getting cooler.

Yami spotted a large rock on the side of the riverbank, and decided to sit down for a while. He wasn't tired, but the wind was blocked out by surrounding trees, so the sun had a chance to warm the air. It was peaceful to be alone in that spot, and with his new anti-restriction restrictions, he didn't have to worry about how long he was out.

Yami started out sitting on the rock, but slowly over time, he had moved to sitting on the sparsely grassed and pebble ground, with the rock as a backrest. He was so absorbed in watching the river sparkle and not thinking about anything that he didn't hear footsteps behind him.

"I thought you had gotten lost, and here you are, bathing in the sun," a deep voice said.

Yami's reverie was cut short as he twisted around to view Seto.

"Am I needed for something?" Yami said. He worried that he had failed somehow, in someway, and this dream-like existence would come crashing down around him. Every day he felt as if he was walking on eggshells.

"Not at all," Seto said, sitting down next to him on the rock. "I just got back to the room and saw you weren't there, so I decided to come look. I see you found the river, I was planning on taking you here when I had enough time."

"You don't have to do things for me," Yami said quietly. It was still disconcerting to be considered in anyone's actions, he doubted he would ever get used to it, and feared if that day would come, because this lifestyle was as transient as the water in the little river in front of them.

They sat together in silence, a few birds chirping around them and the stream continuing in it's endless whispering flow, until Yami decided to speak. "What was your excursion about?"

"Oh, that," Seto said. "It was just a little scuffle between some of the peasants. Their living conditions are getting worse, and they're taking it out on each other."

"Why are their living conditions getting worse?" Yami asked.

"Because we're taxing them too much, they can barely afford it, most of them have to forego food in order to keep their land," Seto said.

"Oh," Yami said, fingering the embroidery on his new jacket. A wave of guilt washed over him as he thought of all the times he went hungry, and now he was being clothed by the money that people gave in order not to lose their livelihood.

Seto waved his hand in the air. "But this is depressing, and I don't want to talk about it. How is your writing coming along?" Seto asked.

"Without a teacher it's been slow, but there's been progress," Yami said.

"Good," Seto said.

"Why do you want me to know these things? I don't need them," Yami said, drifting off in the end because he didn't want to bring up his status.

"Everyone should learn how to read and write, it is vital, just like speaking," Seto commented. He held his hand over his face and looked up into the sky. "It's getting late, we should start heading back inside." Seto stretched out his back, which was still stiff from sleeping in the chair, and stood up.

"Alright," Yami said, standing up as well. "And Master?"

The title once again sent a shiver up Seto's spine, but he didn't address it. "What?"

"I'm hungry."

A/N: If you've stuck with it for this long, it must've not sucked. Or if it did, you must be a masochist like me. Anyway, please review.