Enjoy the second chapter!
I do not own Yugioh or Beauty and the Beast, or any of the characters associated with them, nor do I make any profit from the story.
The streets were buisy today, and would be for the rest of the month; something well known thoughout the town. It was the last few weeks before winter, and the country folk living in the surrounding areas were traveling into town to stock up. It's regular inhabitants were also making generous apperances, gathering necessities for a cozy winter vacation in the mountains nearby. This factor added to the usual customers, and created an unusually large afternoon commotion.
It was a normal occurence every year, and it happened around these pre-winter months that things in the little city began to sparkle. Cobblestone roads were dusted and lightly mopped, windows polished, new merchandise displayed. All the shops were radiating luxury and bright, colorful signs...to attract the eye of eager, hearty customers of course.
It seemed peaceful and quiant, but there was an undeniable stress in the shop families. Here upon their doorsteps was the last opportunity to earn money for the rest of the year. Hardly any money could be made during the winter; certainly not enough to live on. Competition was heating up as the temperatures dropped.
Ryou stood by his father's shop front, gazing at his work. It was a beautiful sign, hand painted unlike all the other wood-and-ink advertisements of the neighbors. It was a window mural depicting a plush reading room, red velvets and carpets strewn about, books flapping gently in the breeze from the open french doors. It was done entirely in shades ranging from white to red (Ryou couldn't afford many colors) and nothing more. Besides, he thought, the warm tones were very well suited for winter. The boy had definite raw talent, enough to create a career in the fine arts...but his father was poor, and there was no way they'd ever be able to afford the paints, canvases, or brushes.
Moreover, he was needed desperately in the shop. Even if the option was open to him, the dedicated son wouldn't leave his father to persue an illustrious life. His father was aging quickly, and no one else would help him run the delapidated book shop. Ryou's old man was concidered a fanatic to the rest of the town and most didn't approve of him living there. Professor Ivory had an unatural fixation with the human anatomy, at one time having been a very proficient surgeon. After one operation gone terrribly wrong, however, the old man lost his reputation and, slowly, his savings as well.
Surprisingly, Ryou did not carry the same social stigma as his father, again due to the nature of the accident. Even through this deep-rooted pity for the boy, no one wanted to help the family financially. They lived off the money thier odds-and-ends shop generated.
Allowing the pleasure of accomplishment to sweep over him briefly, Ryou smiled at the window, and began packing up his supplies. Gathering the two (and only) painbrushes, tubes of paint, color mixing plate and bucket of soapy water he headed inside with the load in his arms.
Ryou navigated his way through the shelves to the back of the shop and into the storage room hidden by curtains. Setting the items down, he walked over to the rusty sink and poured out the soapy liquid, careful not to splash it up onto the counter. Placing the little bucket back on the narrow, dusty shelf, Ryou hastily exited the small enclosure. The dusty air of the shop's storage room was harsh on his lungs, and already being of a weak constitution, it wasn't wise to agrivate the situation.
Three things dawned on him at this moment. First, it was unnaturally quiet. After going from the clatter of humanity outside to this silence...where was father? He was always somewhere near, in his study or bedroom, but not today. He must still be here, though, because Ryou didn't see him leave while he was painting...but where?
"Hmmm..." Ryou pondered aloud, eyes scanning for signs of movement. He wasn't too worried. After all, Maurice was a grown man.
Second, a glow was cast by sunlight filtering through the red window paint, bathing the small shop in rich, crimson splendor. This was truly a marvel to Ryou, and he stood slack jawed in awe. It seemed as though the sun were setting; every surface was awake with a sparkling luster. Gentle shadows of red, mohagony and cream slanted along the walls, while rose red hues flashed across the floor, glowing with richness. Ryou beamed at this little paradise he had created; father would be pleased. The customers would very pleased.
Third, Seto Kaiba could be seen on the other side of the glorious window, rounding the town square fountain in the distance and strutting up the street. Ryou was reluctant to accept this as reality at first, and an audible groan could be heard from the boy...untill, of course, the meaning of the sight hit home. Mildly panicking, Ryou quickly paced across the shop and threw the 'Closed' sign onto a hook in the glass pane, and made for the back of the shop.
Darn Kaiba, he thought, ruining that small bit of peace...Heading once more into the storage room, he pulled the curtains shut and raced up the short flight of stairs behind the shelves. Turning the corner, he entered the hall which made up most of he and his father's living space. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a closet. At the end of the hall was another set of stairs, going down this time, connecting to another shop. The buildings were oddly built, his father's on stilts due to a flood many years back, as it was one of the oldest buildings in the area. The library next door was much newer, and as a result was built lower than this one. A door connected the two, and Ryou often traveled there this way. The older woman who owned the library didn't mind at all; in fact she said she rather enjoyed the suprise.
Opening the door he made a slight jump onto the floor (as there were no stairs there) below, and silently applauded himself for the escape.
No one was in the library, which wasn't surprising at all to Ryou. People these days weren't interested in books...Jogging up to the window, he leaned close to the glass and examined the building he had just left. Huffing in annoyance on his doorstep was none other than Kaiba. Grinning, he watched the man glower at the 'Closed' sign and spin on his heel, not caring to notice Ryou's artwork.
Comfortable with his escape, Ryou crept back into the shadows (in case Kaiba walked by) and helped himself to one of the large, dusty volumes crowding Mrs. Whittle's book shelves. Selecting an old favorite, the teen snuggled down into a plush armchair and set to reading.
Kaiba strut up the street, puffing out his chest and struggling to maintain a bored, apathetic expression. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a flock of tittering girls whip their heads his direction, chattering like mad. A plan formulating in his self-absorbed head, he made his way through the afternoon traffic and gave pause at the fountain. Leaning at it's edge, he struck a majestic pose, succesfully catching the eyes of the girls whom he'd just passed. Reaching back into his pocket, Kaiba clutched his coin purse and made a dramatic show of counting the shining gold.
Usually this game would go on for some time, him flirting with the beautiful rich girls in town, but today he had other plans. It was time to find Ryou. The women did nothing but boost his already inflated ego. His real attraction was fixated on Ryou, the one little beauty which did not crave his attention.
Kaiba knew that deep down inside, Ryou wanted him with a burning passion, it was just going to take some effort on his part to bring it out.
Rising to his feet once more, he heard the volume of chatter from the women increase, all of them hoping he was going to head in their direction. Turning on his heel, the arrogant man pretended to visually sift through the shops, selecting one to ravish with his bottomless pit of a coin purse. Of course, he had planned his destination long before.
Quickly crossing the street, he entered the jewelry shop and picked up a package that had been waiting for him. The women keenly observed when he exited that it was very small, square in shape, and pre-wrapped. Excitement rising, they jumped to their fancy heels and folloewd him as he ronded the fountain once more and headed up the street.
Whispers were flying. Was he going to propose? Who was the lucky girl? Was he going to ask permission of the father? They followed him as far as they dared, and stopped when they noticeed him slowing. He had halted right in front of that old man's place, the one who killed his wife but was never convicted. It was an accident, he'd insisted, it was eighther the child or the mother, and he tried to save both. What could Kaiba be doing there? Only that odd boy and his deranged father lived there.
Whatever the case, Kaiba seemed very unhappy with something. At first his face heled a look of sharp suprise, but then anger quickly took it's place. He stood there for some time, examinng the window, trying to see through the beautiful mural clouding his view. Then, to the startled shock of the women, he began pounding in a most unbecoming fashion on the glass. Receiving no answer, he glared at it angrily.
He began pacing, muttering privately to himself. This display of emotion was most unusual, and caused quite a stir in his secret audience.
It was at this time that Ryou peeked from his hiding place for a mere second, and perhaps that small action triggered something within Kaiba's brain, internal radars going off. With renewed enthusiasm, the girls watched Kaiba dash up to the door of the library and let himself in.
Ryou was filled with glee at his smooth get-away. He hated Kaiba, with a passion. The man reeked of self-righteousness and suffocating arrogance. He was rude to all the people Ryou loved: the baker, the shoemaker, and the shepheards...not to mention evey other weakling he ran across. These things set aside, Ryou had another reason to despise the walking vanity mirror. Kaiba was terrible to father.
A few weeks back, he had rallied the townsmen to run the Professor out of town, telling Ryou that everything would be okay, and that the boy could come live with him.
An offer to die for, thought Ryou.
Grimacing, he continued flipping through the yellowed pages, searching out his favorite love scene. The one where the beautiful princess falls in love with the dying leapor...
Hearing a sweet, musical jingle, Ryou looked up with intrest. It was rare that the little bell adorning the shop door was frequented. Rising smoothly to his feet, Ryou made his way through the shelves and random stacks of books and into the open reading area at the front of the library.
At the time being, Seto's back was turned, but Ryoui could not take this opportunity to run...he stood gaping, shocked.
How did he?...
Whirling about once more, determined to spot Ryou out, Seto was pleased when his prey was hovering only a few feet away.
"Ah, Ryou! There you are," he walked over, "I've been looking everywhere." Ryou had backed up against a bookshelf, sealing himself into a corner between Kaiba, wall, and shelf. Leaning in close, Kaiba put one hand on the shelf and the other on his hip, preventing escape.
"Heheh, you know how it is, Seto; needed a little break from the shop...thought I'd do some reading..." Smiling nervously Ryou brought his small, girlish hands up to his chest, wringing them lightly; unknowingly trying to put as much between thier bodies as possible.
"Where's that crackpot old man? Why can't he run his own shop?" Seto huffed, voice taking on a scathing tone.
"Don't talk about my father that way, Mr. Kaiba!" Ryou hissed, causing the taller male to backstep. Taking advantage of this, Ryou slipped through the small gap that was created, and continued while walking away: "He's an older man, he can't care for himself like he used to. You know that; he needs all the help he can get." Ryou paused, controlling the tone of his voice. "Thanks to you, we don't get many customers anymore."
At this, Kaiba's eyes widened a notch more, and he put up his hands in defense. "Now, now, Ryou. You know that isn't true! I'd never try to harm your father's reputation in any way." The younger teen cringed at the innocent pout that was added for effect.
Glaring heatedly, Ryou walked back to the plush armchair, book still propped upon the cushion, and moved to sit down once more. "I never said a word about his reputation, Kaiba."
Ignoring the latter comment, Kaiba hurried over and pulled the boy flush against his chest, breathing heavily into his ear. "Does it matter? You're better off with me, darling. I could provide every luxury you'd ever wan-"
"Let me go!" Ryou yelped, to no effect.
"You'd never be unhappy, Ryou! Imagine your dreams fulfilled, a room just for painting-"
"Kaiba, get off me!" He jerked his wrists back angrily, becoming very agrivated with his would-be captor.
Ryou's saving grace came scurrying into the room, severe eyes blazing at Kaiba. Her small reading spectacles were perched precariously on the end of the old woman's large nose, hooking above pale, pursed lips.
"What's going on in here?" She paused, observing the scene,"That is no behavior for a library, you let that boy go right now!" Her small, quavering voice eeked out, seeming more unnecesarily high pitched than threatening.
Kaiba released him. Sighing, Ryou quickly moved away from the agrivating man. "It's alright, Mrs. Whittle, he's not hurting anybody. He'll be leaving now."
"Yes, we will." Kaiba smiled at the smaller boy, snatching the old book unceremoniously by it's back cover from the chair. "By the way, how much for this book?"
Mrs. Whittle raised her near-gone eyebrows at this and glanced from book to man. "W-well, sir, we don't really sell books." She smiled, and began talking as though to a child. "You see, this is a library. Libraries don't sell books, we lend them." Reching for the ancient volume she lovingly righted it and smoothed it's pages, closed the cover and slid it back under her arm.
Scoffing, Kaiba reached for his coin purse the second time that day and began shaking out a generous ammount. "Oh, come now, old woman, I'm sure I can cover it."
Letting the age comment slide, the librarian's eyes fixated on the glittering gold pieces, quickly reconcidering the offer.
Moment's later, the two males stood outside Professor Ivory's shop, Ryou digging keys from his plain brown painter's smock. Angrily jamming the keys into the lock, Ryou pushed the door open, attempting to close it on Kaiba. The other was too swift, however, and slipped in.
"What do you want, Kaiba? What's with the book...buying...thing?" Flustered, Ryou began angrily pacing the shop, trying to look buisy.
"What do I want?" Kaiba repeated, "I want what every man wants...To end the day with a home cooked meal, have a nice, clean house." The awful man sauntered back behind the front desk, sitting down into the wooden chair and propping his mud caked boots on the counter. "Every night, have my little wife massage my feet and warm my bed...that's what I want, Ryou." As an after thought, he added: "Oh, and the books for you."
Ryou blanched at the mention of wives and bed warming. "Thats...nice, Seto...but I'm very buisy, an I'd simply love it if you'd let me get to work. You know what they say, heheh...Idle hands are the Devil's playground..."
Kaiba frowned. "You don't understand, do you?" Ryou looked up, wide eyed and nervous. "I want you, Ryou."
Said boy stood still, speechless for a moment, then opening and closing his mouth noislessly.
There was a pause. "Surprising, isn't it? I know, I know. I am quite a catch," Seto mused thoughtfully. He frowned, hoping the boy would speak; the expression on his face was quite unreadable. Taking this as a good sign, Kaiba got to his feet and came before the boy. Ryou backed away, revulsion building under his skin.
Kaiba? Seto Kaiba wants to marry me! Dear lord...kill me now...
Continuing to retreat, Ryou paced his way backwards to the entrance, not really paying attention to his direction. Kaiba followed him every step, quickly closing the distance between them, untill they were only inches apart. Ryou knew he could go no further when his back bumped the doorknob. Kaiba leered over him, again resting one hand on the glass door, and the other on his hip, lightly crossing his ankles. A feeling of dejavu swept over the boy.
"I want you, Ryou. You will belong to me..." Kaiba was closing the distance, lips parting, so close...
Ryou's mind screamed at him, there must be something! Anything!...His eyes snapped open.
The doorknob!
His brain jumped back in first gear. Hands scrambling frantically behind his back, Ryou sought out the evasive little copper knob, very aware of Kaiba's fast approaching lips. What in reality were seconds seemed like hours to the boy as he groped. Heart nearly stopping at the feel of cold metal in his hands, he gave the object a final, savage twist...
When he thought about the event later that day in the safe confines of his room, Ryou would conclude that Kaiba had really done all the work for him. Had he not been leaning on the door so heavily, and leaning foreward so steeply, perhaps Kaiba could have saved his ballance at the last moment. However, this was not to be.
As Ryou turned the knob, the door flew open under the combined weight of both bodies pressed firmly against it. Due to the death grip the youth maintaned on the doorknob, he was saved an embarassing splat onto the cobblestones outside. Kaiba, on the other hand, was not. Bodily thrown from the shop, he landed face first onto the neatly paved street outside, frozen with shock.
Processing what had just happened a little too slow, Kaiba whirled around in a fit of astonished anger to see only the shop door slammed, locked, and the shades drawn. Shaking from myriad undescribable emotions, Kaiba lurched to his feet and stood dumbly for a moment. His mind stuttered unhelpfuly.
A distant shout from Mokuba brought him to, finally, and he walked away to meet his 'partner in crime' at the nearest pub, destined for a night of complaining and faked injury from the fall. Seto Kaiba was not one to take rejection well.
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