(Authors Note: Translation available at the bottom of the page for those interested.)

Chapter Seven

It was dark when they landed at Brandenburg Airport. Through the window of the black cab, Seto watched the lights of nightlife that seemed to hold importance to the residents, which he could not comprehend.

Berlin was a conundrum of a city. Ancient Germanic and classic architecture tucked in and hidden among modern steel constructions. Wood and stone and steel and greenery mixed and melded in a way it didn't in Domino. There was an age to it, a sense of history that other places in the world didn't have. Their hotel was two stories tall, in the heart of the city. Two sets of stone pillars stood to either side of the door. The inside was opulent, aged, but well kept. The hall to the reception desk was flanked by stone staircases. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, sheets of delicate lights that spiraled a full story down to hang over the strange centerpiece. An alligator head mounted with its mouth towards the doors that gave Seto pause as they entered.

The next morning dawned cool, but humid. Seto waited in the entrance hall for Miss Miyoshi. He'd dressed in his best suit, with a spiral-bound document tucked under one arm. His portfolio. They were due to meet with Vinzent Hoffmann himself at his headquarters at ten.

Seto leaned back against the stone rail halfway down the stairs, arms crossed, and checked his watch again. Miss Miyoshi was running late. He considered going to her room to check on her, but thought better of it. After their conversation, he was in no hurry to stoke whatever fires were simmering between them. No matter how much he was attracted to her, it wouldn't be appropriate. They were there for business, not pleasure.

There was a clatter at the top of the stairs. "Sorry! I overslept."

Seto clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and turned to look up at her. "I assumed I'd paid you enough to take this trip more… seriously."

Her long legs were clad in black tights. The same as the ones she had worn the day he met her. Her skirt was black, hitting just above the knees, with ruffles that circulated its hem. Into it, she had tucked an elegant grey blouse, with buttons up to her neck and sleeves that cinched at her elbows and wrists.

"Not everyone can get over jet lag as quickly as you." She leaned against the rail with one hand. "You're lucky I'm moving at all."

She slipped on a black heel, her bag falling from her shoulder to hang from her elbow. Hair fell haphazardly around her face when she looked up. She tucked it behind her ears.

"Indeed."

The hum of the hotel fell away. The waiting cab, the ticking clock, none of it mattered. Seto should feel so lucky to be in the company of such dark beauty. He was outside himself, watching as he reached out a hand to her.

She smiled and slid her hand into his as she descended the stairs. "What? You're playing the gentleman today? I'm flattered."

"It feels appropriate." Seto brushed her hair from her shoulder.

Soft as satin. The color of iron. Seto's fingers cupped the side of her face, his thumb beneath her ear, his fingers in her hair. He wanted to kiss her. No, he needed to kiss her. Every fiber of his being felt the pull, the urge for contact.

Her eyelids fluttered. Her hand slid against his arm. Her face tilted upwards. A challenge? Or an invitation?

A voice came from the bottom of the stairs. "Herr Kaiba, Ihr Auto wartet."(1)

Reality returned with such a crash that Seto was left confused for the length of several heartbeats. He turned to the man, eyes cold and venomous, ready to spit insults for the interruption.

Miss Miyoshi's hand tightened on his, though her smile was bright and gentle. "Vielen Dank. Sagen Sie dem Fahrer, dass wir gleich raus sind."(2)

The man bowed his head, then turned and headed outside to relay the message.

Miss Miyoshi lowered her voice. "Careful. I'm starting to think you wanna eat my face."

A snort of laughter escaped Seto before he could stop it. He looked down at their still connected hands. He let his thumb rub across her fingers. They seemed to fit together so perfectly, as if they were meant to. Carved from the same stone.

Seto let out a breath and dropped her hand. Time was ticking again.

Hoffmann Enterprises was twenty-five floors of glass and steel, with a street-facing facade that imparted the illusion of a circular design. In reality, the main building was rectangular like those around it. The semicircle of its front was merely sheets of reflective glass and solar panels. It was a marvel of Hoffmann's imaginative engineering expertise. Vinzent Hoffmann was waiting for them in the lobby. He was well into his fifties, with hair more grey than brown and a forest green suit that matched the shade of his eyes. He opened his arms when they entered and clasped Seto's hand in a grip far stronger than he expected from the sun-spotted hands.

"Herr Kaiba," Hoffmann said, "pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine."

Hoffmann turned to Miss Miyoshi. "Fraulein Miyoshi, ja? Du bist noch schöner als ich es mir vorgestellt habe."(3) He took both her hands and kissed each of her cheeks in turn.

The hairs on the back of Seto's neck prickled.

"Wie war Ihr Flug?" Hoffmann asked. "Ich hoffe nicht anstrengend."(4)

She laughed. "Überhaupt nicht."(5)

"Gut gut." Hoffmann turned to Seto. "Folge mir. Ich gebe dir eine Führung, dann lasse ich Sie meine Skizzen für das Projekt anschauen."(6)

When Hoffmann turned and headed for the elevators, Seto looked at Miss Miyoshi. Her cheeks were pink, which annoyed him more.

"He says he's going to give us a tour," she said. "Then he's got some sketches he wants you to look at.

Seto kept his voice low so they couldn't be overheard. "He kissed you."

"Oh, please." She moved to follow Hoffmann. "He kissed me on the cheek. You've still got him beat two to one if you're gonna keep score."

Seto followed a step behind. "I wasn't planning to."

"Then stop acting like you're my jealous boyfriend. You haven't earned it."

His steps faltered. She looked back at him from the elevator, her expression cool and challenging.

Hoffmann's eyes flicked between them, a bemused smile on his face. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Mach dir Keine Sorgen um ihn. Ich habe die Fotos gesehen. Junge Manner wie er neigen dazu, nicht zu wissen, wo ihre Herzen liegen. Meine Frau musste mich ein paar Jahre lang verfolgen, bevor mir klar wurde, dass sie die Richtige war. Hab Geduld."(7)

Miss Miyoshi laughed, but shook her head. "Es ist nicht so leicht."(8)

"Das ist es nie."(9)

The elevator doors chimed and opened. Hoffmann released her to go inside. He held the door with one hand, the other behind his back. Miss Miyoshi watched him and smiled.

"What did he say?" Seto asked.

"Nothing." She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just an old man gushing about his wife."

Hoffmann barked a sharp, deep laugh.

Every floor of Hoffmann Enterprises was a maze of glass-encased offices containing everything needed for large-scale construction. Contractors, demolition experts, interior designers, landscapers, electricians, plumbers, and far more. Behind the main office building were warehouses of equipment and machinery. The halls of the top floor leading to his office were a gallery of past projects. Artistic sketches of malls, museums, government buildings, and amusement parks. His office itself was a veritable museum of architectural history. Scale models and ancient tools stood under glass domes lining the room. In a corner overlooking the city sat a drafting desk, old and worn with time, but no less sturdy. It was a relic from his early years, Miss Miyoshi translated as he talked, when H.E. had been V.H. Construction, manned only by him and his brothers.

Hoffmann held out a welcoming arm to the desk, motioning Seto to come closer. "Schau hier. Ich denke du wirst es mögen."(10)

"Take a look," Miss Miyoshi said, "those are his sketches."

The drawings were unlike anything Seto had ever seen. The building depicted was domed, with an exterior that shined like metal. The precise linework and shading were breathtaking, as if pulled from reality and transplanted onto the page. The next pages showed the inside, which held various rooms. Each appeared to hold displays and consoles for the visitors to interact with. Hoffmann had drawn people into his sketches, children and their parents at each station. One room had been shaded with a green pencil. The figure inside was wearing a VR headset not dissimilar to Seto's design.

Seto looked up, brows high. "These are incredible."

Hoffmann chuckled. "Ich dachte du würdest es mögen. Herr Zou hatte viel Gutes über Ihr bevorstehendes Projekt zu sagen. Ich entschuldige mich, dass ich Ihr Design für meine Skizzen ausgeliehen habe. Er gab mir eine Vorschau auf Ihre Idee und ich konnte nicht anders."(11)

"He's glad you like it. Mr. Zou had a lot to say about your next project. He also apologizes for using your design in his sketches. Mr. Zou had shown him your idea."

"That's fine," Seto said. "It gives me an idea of what you're looking for."

Hoffmann tapped his finger on the sketch of the green room. "Ich habe großes Vertrauen in Ihre Fähigkeiten. Ich wurde gerne der Welt zeigen, was Sie haben, wenn Sie mich lassen."(12)

"He has confidence in your abilities and would like to show the world what you have."

It felt to Seto as if he was standing taller. He looked at Hoffmann, not seeing the old man, but a vehicle to expose his more inventive ideas. It went far beyond operating systems and security software. This was what Seto truly wanted Kaiba Corporation to be. It would finally be time to grow the company out of the bones he'd inherited.

"I can do more than this," he said.

The corners of Hoffmann's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Sag mir."(13)

Seto handed the older man the documents he'd spent the last month compiling, and the rest of the day was spent going through each one with the careful attention of a child showing his father an A+ worthy essay.

The next day Hoffmann himself picked them up from the hotel to take them to the building site. The amusement park turned out nothing like Seto had assumed it to be. There were no rides, at least in the traditional sense, no screaming children, and no kitschy merchandise filling stores lining the main thoroughfare. Instead, the park was acres of forested land cut through by a spider web of walking paths leading to exhibits dedicated to the sciences and history. The experiments within each exhibit were simple, designed to ignite curiosity and broaden the knowledge of children, but they were not so mundane that older visitors and parents couldn't be entertained.

As Hoffmann toured them around the park, Seto's mind reeled with the opportunities, the sheer privilege of being included in something that felt so important. It would take months, if not years, of planning. Costs would need to be figured. The expense of shipping materials and technicians overseas. He would need to select the best of them to install the displays, which he would need to work with his R&D department to create. They would have to be new, innovative. Every idea he had ever had would have a place for the world to look upon in wonder.

It was nearing the afternoon when they stopped at the audio science exhibit, at Miss Miyoshi's behest. She'd visited it many times after she'd settled in Germany and wanted the chance to see it again before leaving.

Children were drawn to her, it seemed, especially after she had kicked off her heels to dance upon the giant piano embedded in the floor. Her face glowed with laughter. The room was filled with a cacophony of noise. Seto closed his eyes and he could still hear her above it all.

She would make a good mother, he decided as he leaned back against the wall, watching her delicate steps across the keys.

"Quite a woman," Hoffmann said.

Seto nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't noticed when the man walked up to stand beside him, and couldn't tell how long he'd been there.

He settled himself back into his passive expression. "She is."

"A man would consider himself lucky to be in the presence of such." Hoffmann struggled against his accent, suppressing his natural pronunciation of certain words so Seto could understand him. "That was an impressive punch, Herr Kaiba."

"You saw them."

"Hard not to. My younger staff have heard of our meeting and are quite in on gossip. It cannot be helped if that gossip makes it to me."

It'd been hopeless to assume Hoffmann would've remained ignorant of what happened in Domino. The internet was far-reaching. People all around the world no doubt knew of the event and each subsequent fallout. The soccer game and their kiss in the car, obvious even though the act itself had been blocked.

Seto squared his shoulders, prepared for the blow of disappointment he'd been hoping to avoid. "And?"

"Gnadig."(14) Hoffmann patted Seto's shoulder. "Relax. You are stiff for a man your age. This changes nothing."

"You're fluent for a man who needs a translator."

"You offered, and who was I to refuse. Is easier to speak when not watching my words, ja?" Hoffmann motioned to Miss Miyoshi. "Besides, after what happened, I hoped you'd bring her. I had to see the woman who would make a guarded man such as yourself act so recklessly."

Seto crossed his arms. "You're reading into things."

"Am I?" Hoffmann's brows raised. "Forgive. Was not right for me to assume." He leaned against the wall next to Seto and lowered his voice. "In truth, I also wanted to see the type of man Gozaburo's son had turned into."

Seto's head jerked around to stare. "You knew him?"

"Not well, but he had his reputation within the industries. When I heard he had passed…" Hoffmann shook his head. "Well, you can forgive me for not sending my sympathies."

"Did you know what he was doing?"

"There were rumors, but then, there are always rumors. You tell me they were true?"

Seto looked away. He couldn't bear to keep eye contact, not when Hoffmann was watching him as he imagined a grandfather would a wayward child.

"Most of them," he said.

"Scheisse."(15) Hoffmann ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. You have done well for yourself, regardless. There is much for you to be proud of."

"Thank you."

Seto felt empty, despite the compliment. There were many things he considered himself proud of, many achievements since taking over the company, but it was difficult to focus on the good when reminded of the bad. He'd gone to great efforts to forget his father even existed, to try and take the name he was given and make it his own. He could sign his name, as long as he wasn't reminded of where he got it from.

"Once she is done, we will head back to my office. Draft up the contract." Hoffmann pushed off the wall and started away, raising one hand as he did so. "I look forward to working with you, Herr Kaiba."

The contract was signed by close of business that day. Hoffmann and his executive team hosted a dinner celebration at a nearby restaurant afterward. Alcohol flowed. Raucous laughter filled the private room where they dined, threatening to shake the roof to pieces.

It was unlike any business dinner Seto had ever attended.

He would have rather taken his copy of the contract and disappeared into the quiet of his hotel room. The knowledge that Vinzent Hoffmann had been acquainted with his father had weighed heavy on him for the rest of the day. He'd thought he'd escaped every last tendril of his father's web, had had them locked up or tossed away. Had he known such loose thread existed so far from home he may not have been so quick to agree to fly halfway across the world.

Hoffmann at least seemed courteous compared to his father and had so far shown no signs of connection to any underground activities. Seto doubted a man like Hoffmann would've involved himself in such things, though looks could be deceiving, as Seto knew too well. So he spent the dinner mostly quiet on his corner of the long dark wood table, Hoffmann to his right and Miss Miyoshi to his left. He wasn't surprised when she drank most of the other businessmen under the table. She indulged while he nursed his glass of wine all evening. The men around her were friendly enough. Some eased to the edge of the line more than once, but she seemed more than capable at handling herself.

Once a man had set his hand on her thigh and had been easing it upward when Miss Miyoshi 'accidentally' spilled her beer into his lap. She'd laughed and acted embarrassed, then she turned to Seto and threw him a wink. Everyone around them laughed. It seemed she was considered an honorary local.

They took a cab back to the hotel. Miss Miyoshi lounged back in the seat next to Seto, face flushed and eyes sparkling with her buzz.

He watched her, bemused, leaning against the door with his elbow on the window ledge. "Have fun?"

"Duh!" She crossed one leg across her knee and folded her arms behind her head. "Those dudes are too easy. Could've probably conned 'em outta three more beers if you hadn't called it quits."

"It's eleven o'clock."

"Quitter."

Seto chuckled. "I'm afraid I've never been the partying type."

She lolled her head to the side and smiled. "You still had fun though."

"How do you figure?"

"I saw how you looked at those sketches. You looked like you'd just won the skeeball high score."

Seto raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

"Forget it. Not important." She let herself fall to the side so she rested against his shoulder. "Hey, Seto-"

"Miss Miyoshi, I believe I told you-"

"Yeah, I know." She lifted her head so her chin rested against his shoulder, their faces barely inches apart. "I'm curious."

"And drunk."

"That too. I'd been first in, you know, to the temp agency. I'd slept in, had to rush out th door. If I'd been late someone else would've been given th job. You think we would've found each other anyway?"

Seto was acutely aware of her hand resting on the seat next to his thigh. "I don't think it works that way."

She hummed. "You're probably right. You were always right." A smile spread across her lips. "I wanna kiss you."

"That wouldn't be very smart."

"Why?"

"Because you're drunk."

"What an honorable gentleman. Won't kiss a lady if she's three sheets to the wind." There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You didn't say you didn't want to."

Seto kept his eyes steady on hers. "No. I didn't"

"Do you want to?"

His body screamed in answer, heart thudding hard in his neck, pleasant tingles spreading through his veins. She knew how tempting she was. Worst of all, she knew he knew. It was in her smile, in the half-lidded come hither stare she transfixed him with.

Oh, he wanted to. His control was fraying, drawing taut until he was certain it would snap. He wasn't sure what would happen when it did, but he was almost curious enough to find out.

Almost.

Her phone rang.

Now it was her who looked as if she'd nearly jumped out of her skin. Her eyes were wide and wild as she dug through her purse. Seto had to look away and press his fist to his mouth.

There was a beep as Miss Miyoshi answered the call. "Hello? Rin! Hi!"

She paused and Seto could faintly hear high-pitched laughter over the other line.

"Oh, good morning, then." It hadn't seemed possible, but her flush deepened. "We had a few drinks. I'm not that smashed."

More laughter.

"Alright, that's enough. You got anythin planned today?" She closed her eyes as she listened, nodding and humming every so often. "Sounds like fun. Just don't tip it over, 'kay? Aunt Moriko will have your hides if you damage dad's boat." Her eyes went misty. She laughed at something her sister said. "We can do that. There's not a lotta space, but we can make it work. Okay. You give Miku and Aunt Moriko a kiss for me. I love you too. Bye-bye."

She hung up and dropped her phone into her bag. She leaned back and rubbed the heel of her palms against her eyes. "Dammit."

The good humor and tingling attraction Seto had felt melted into a dull ache of understanding. "You lost him too."

"Yeah." She gave him a watery smile. "He died before mom. A long time ago. They can't even remember him. I'll be okay, see?" Her smile widened. "Better already."

Seto frowned, unconvinced.

"How about I show you around tomorrow?" she asked.

"I figured you would rather return early, considering your timetable."

"It's tempting, but we've got a whole extra day. Why not have fun with it? It's not like you could work anyway."

"I have my laptop."

"Which remotes into your office, I'm sure." When he looked away, she laughed. "Come on. One day."

"There seems to be a lot of those with you."

"It'd be nice to get Mokuba a souvenir, wouldn't it?"

He cut his eyes at her. "You had an ulterior motive."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I might have a little running around to do if we had the time." She rested a hand on his arm. "Let me do this for you. You're going to love Berlin."

Seto knew he shouldn't. It would have been wiser to deny her. His mind demanded that he call the airline and get them a flight back to Domino for tomorrow, but his body refused to move. The way she looked at him, face flushed and eyes wide and hopeful, with the faint shine of unshed tears still lingering on her lashes, made him want to take her face in his hands and dispel any lingering sadness. His fingers itched to touch her, hold her, feel the silk of her hair and the warmth of her skin.

He balled his hands into fists and looked out the window to the city lights passing by. "Fine."

In the reflection of the dark glass, he saw her smile. "You won't be disappointed."

Of that, at least, he was certain.

Translations:

(1) "Mr. Kaiba, your car is waiting."

(2) "Thanks very much. Tell the driver we'll be out soon."

(3) "Miss Miyoshi, yes? You are even more beautiful than I imagined."

(4)"How was your flight?" Hoffmann asked. "I hope not exhausting."

(5) "Not at all."

(6) "Good good." Hoffmann turned to Seto. "Folloe me. I'll give you a tour, then I'll let you look at my sketches for the project."

(7) "Don't worry about him. I've seen the photos. Young men like him tend not to know where their hearts are. My wife had to chase me for a couple years before I realized she was the right one. Be patient."

(8) "It's not that easy."

(9) "It never is."

(10) "Look here. I think you will like it."

(11) "I thought you would like it. Mr. Zou had many things to say about your upcoming project. I apologize for borrowing your design for my sketches. He gave me a preview of your idea and I couldn't help it."

(12) "I have great confidence in your abilities. I would love to show the world what you have if you let me."

(13) "Tell me."

(14) "Gracious."

(15) "Shit."