The orchestra cut short mid-score, the couples dancing froze, and everyone bowed when Pegasus came into the ballroom. His red suit stood out from the black his security team wore, and Seto knew Gozaburo wished he had worn a different color. Seto remained bowed beside him and listened to the echo from Pegasus's shoes as they clacked nearer.
Pegasus stopped in front of Gozaburo and Seto, and gently, with a hand under Seto's chin, brought him upright. Gozaburo followed suit.
"Master Crawford, I'm honored you were able to attend."
Pegasus's touch lingered under Seto's chin, and he focused on Seto when he answered Gozaburo. "Our Seto is getting harder and harder to track down these days."
Lowering his hand, Pegasus used the motion to gesture to the room that they could stop bowing. As they stood, the orchestra picked up where they left off, although no one started dancing again. They leaned into each other to whisper, hardly any of them daring to glance over.
"The life of a grad student," Seto said in way of explanation rather than offering a fake apology. After a year of sidestepping, Seto had perfected this dance.
"My upcoming trip around the world couldn't pull you away?"
"You know me well."
From beside him, Seto sensed Gozaburo seething. Everyone's fear of Pegasus Crawford left them cowardly. When Seto first started noticing Pegasus's attention last year, he felt the fear the same as them, but nothing ever came of it. If Pegasus wanted to move things beyond flirting, he only had to give the command.
"Not as well as I'd like."
That lingered longer than the touch. Seto didn't back down from Pegasus's stare, which felt eternal despite only lasting for one swell of the music.
"But my public awaits," Pegasus said. "Gozaburo, Seto."
"Master Crawford," they said in unison, and bowed again. They kept their head down until Pegasus walked to Mayor Dartz.
Gozaburo grabbed Seto's arm tightly. His anger was evident through the strength of his grip, and Seto looked down at him as if oblivious.
"You will find him again before the night is over."
"You have your own rounds to make, sir."
Gozaburo's grip would likely bruise, but Seto didn't pull away. There were too many respected people around to witness any sudden movements he made. Sometimes, letting Gozaburo get his way was the easiest option.
Seto had a year's experience avoiding Pegasus's advances, which was nothing compared to his decade living out a never-ending game of chess with his adopted father.
Bruises and scars were as minor as pawns.
It was Gozaburo who backed down first, always too aware of his public image to risk exposing his violent streak. A gala with Pegasus Crawford was as inappropriate a time as any.
When Gozaburo left to continue greeting his guests, Seto slipped away. These events drained him before he even finished his first glass of wine. If it hadn't been hosted in Gozaburo's house, Seto would have found a reason not to attend. But the ballroom had a bar, and Seto made sure the bartender gave him a tall glass of wine. He stayed at the end and out of the way while he sipped his drink, and checked his phone to see if there were any emails from the lab director. Seto hoped to use the campus lab space for his thesis project, but needed to hear back on what equipment was available to him. For what he wanted to build, he would need a lot. But it was a Friday night, and his inbox was empty.
To make tonight tolerable, Seto needed several glasses of this size. How angry would Gozaburo get if Seto got wasted in the same room as their great leader? The story might be worth the inevitable punishment.
"Something pressing?"
Seto flipped his phone over to demonstrate he was giving his full attention to Pegasus. It couldn't have been more than five minutes since Pegasus walked away from him and Gozaburo, and he already came back. There hadn't been time for Pegasus to talk to more than one person. Of everyone here, Seto only had more prominence than the wait staff.
"Checking on things for my thesis project," Seto said.
"Aren't most theses long-winded papers?" Pegasus asked, and leaned against the bar beside Seto.
"I'll have one of those too, but I plan to build the technology I'll be claiming isn't solely theoretical."
"Why build what you could simply write about?"
Pegasus ordered a red wine from the skittish bartender, and was served within seconds.
"No one would believe me."
"Well now I have to hear all about it. Don't titillate me any further."
The order was subtle but there. Seto wanted to deflect, but knew better than to defy.
"I plan to create a new sort of hologram. Tangible ones."
Oddly, the reaction Pegasus gave was new. When Seto mentioned it to most people, they gave him a look of disbelief not quite masked by forced politeness. But Pegasus raised his eyebrows, and turned in more toward Seto.
"What do you see them being used for?"
Seto had no intentions of answering that. Pegasus led and conquered countries, and gaming felt trivial in comparison. It wasn't something Seto cared to share with a murderer.
"It could be useful for medical practice, or to help those with PTSD."
"For training simulations," Pegasus said. "Medical, military. What does your father think of it?"
"The same as most. It's a decent concept for a science fiction novel."
Pegasus sipped at his wine and opened his posture to the room. His fingers drummed the air to the rhythm of the orchestra's melody, and his gaze stayed fixated on them. It took some of the pressure off their conversation.
"It's a shame how little faith people can have."
"I'll prove them wrong."
Pegasus smirked, and angled his head to Seto. "I have complete confidence."
That felt like the end of the conversation, but Seto couldn't be the one to say so. He worked on his wine and waited to be excused, watching the musicians for lack of a better focal point. The dancing had started up again in the center of the room, occasionally blocking Seto's view.
Pegasus set down his glass.
"Dance with me," he said, and offered Seto a hand.
Tonight doesn't make sense, Seto thought as he put down his wine to take Pegasus's hand. Seto internally scrambled to think of a way to regain the distance he'd spent the last year creating, while also trying to think of any reason to get out of this. His thoughts were frazzled and blank, entirely useless, except for a weak defense.
"I'm hardly the most elegant partner here."
"That's what makes you so perfect."
Pegasus led Seto to the center of the room, through a crowd that parted for them. The space widened even more, practically creating a spotlight on them.
Seto let Pegasus lead.
"I have a hard time believing there would be any situation you wouldn't handle gracefully."
"Then you'd be surprised."
Pegasus's hand rested a bit too low on Seto's waist. They stepped together, essentially alone on the dance floor, but with too many eyes on them. The press would get their fill of pictures and Seto would have to deal with the consequences in the morning.
"You led me to believe you didn't know how to dance."
"I don't attend many of these events."
"You never know when that might change."
"Engineering graduate school doesn't host many galas," Seto said. He held onto his graduate school excuse as tightly as he could. If it kept Pegasus at bay, Seto would drag out his thesis for years.
"Do they host events at all?"
"Some students have small scale get-togethers."
"Don't make it sound so tedious," Pegasus said, and spun Seto. As he was turning, Seto caught Pegasus glaring at a couple who drifted too close, but by the time Seto faced Pegasus again, the glare was gone.
"Have you spent much time around engineers, Master Crawford?"
"Pegasus," he said pointedly. "And no, I can't say I have."
"Consider yourself—"
The doors to the ballroom slammed open, and a scruffy man stormed in, gun raised. He aimed it at Pegasus right as Seto registered what was happening.
"Brazil's had enough!" he shouted, and steadied his aim.
Shots rang out. Guards rushed around them. Pegasus's grip on Seto's waist tightened. Cameras flashed.
"Is that so?" Pegasus asked when the initial commotion died down. "I suppose I have no choice but to listen to your demands before you do something rash."
One of Pegasus's guards had shot the gun from his hand, which dripped blood. The man was on his knees, but still reaching for the gun.
The guard in the glasses shot his other hand before moving in to restrain him.
Letting go of Seto, Pegasus crossed the room, silent again like it had been during his entrance. His heels tracked his path, all attention fixated on every step, and Pegasus knelt in front of the man who tried to kill him. With a delicate touch, he reached out and dipped his fingers in the blood, then rubbed his thumb through it.
"Brazil, did you say?" Pegasus turned to the guard holding back the gunman. "I want him alive, and his family. His entire family."
"Yes, Master Crawford."
With the room distracted, Seto took the chance to slip away. The other guests were frenzied, and Seto easily moved through them to escape to the patio. He closed the door behind him and that muted the buzz of voices. Their nervous energy had increased his, and he desperately needed to smoke.
But first, he texted Mokuba, who had been lucky enough not to be required to attend and got to hide out upstairs.
"There was an attempt on Crawford's life," Seto texted, and followed up with, "I'm fine. Security will be high."
Mokuba called seconds later, but Seto had to decline it. He messaged again. "I'm still here. They took the gunman into custody."
Whatever Crawford's version of custody was. If he wanted the family, it was likely for an inevitable execution. The more countries that bowed to him, the more executions ended up televised. Everyone was meant to watch, but Seto never did. He lived through enough violence.
"You promise you're okay?" Mokuba replied.
"I promise. I wasn't the target."
He left out the part where the target had been holding onto his waist, and a slight misfire could have ended him.
Seto pulled out his cigarettes and was about to light one when the patio door opened, briefly letting out the rush of voices. He glanced back and put the pack away.
"What are you thinking?" Gozaburo said. "He's asking for you."
"He must have more pressing issues to deal with."
"Which makes him asking for you so imperative. Get in there."
There was too much happening and Seto really needed a cigarette. But he couldn't go inside smelling like smoke. It might discourage Pegasus's advances, and Gozaburo wouldn't allow that.
Pegasus had never been this forward before.
Seto gathered himself and went inside with Gozaburo, who walked him into the attached sitting room. They hadn't set it up to be a part of the gala, but it was one of the few rooms in the house without windows. Security was likely checking the house for additional assailants, but in here Pegasus was seated in an armchair with a fresh glass of rosé, and one of the violinists from the orchestra played softly in the corner.
"Seto dear, have a seat. You look flushed."
Pegasus gestured to the couch across from him, and Seto did as he was told. Gozaburo remained standing by the door, near to one of Pegasus's guards.
"I'm sorry for disappearing," Seto said. "I'm relieved you weren't hurt."
The world would have been better off if the bullet met its target.
"Likewise. Are your ears ringing?"
"I haven't noticed anything."
Pegasus looked to Gozaburo. "Pour Seto a drink. Something strong," he said, and refocused on Seto. "Have you developed a taste for stronger liquors?"
Seto nodded, and took the scotch when Gozaburo offered it to him. He should have held off, but immediately tipped it back. If he had been able to smoke, this would have been easier.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Pegasus asked.
"It wasn't my life he was after."
"If I let every attempt at my life get under my skin, I'd never leave my house."
"Even so, no one should have to go through something like that so frequently. Your team is well trained."
Pegasus inclined his head. "I'm grateful you're safe to see another gala."
"Hopefully one with more security detail on our end," Seto said, and finished his scotch.
"It was such a failing on my end not to take security more seriously, wasn't it?"
"No, Master Crawford."
It was a failing on the host.
On Gozaburo.
"You have more than enough on your plate without having to scrutinize every venue," Seto added.
"And you have more than enough on your plate without humoring me with dances. I do so appreciate them, Seto. Enough to overlook this, even."
Seto gave the threat a moment to settle over them, but didn't look at Gozaburo to acknowledge it.
"I'm sorry it was cut short."
"We'll make up for it at some point soon," Pegasus said. "Gozaburo, go be sure everything is cleaned up. I'll tend to Seto."
Pegasus stood and stared at Gozaburo until he left, then moved over to sit by Seto. The violinist switched pieces when Pegasus faced Seto. He tilted Seto's head to him softly, and then tucked his hair behind his ear.
"I could get you your own security team," Pegasus said.
"No one cares to hurt me," Seto said, as if he wasn't littered with scars underneath the long sleeves and high collars. He counted Gozaburo as an anomaly.
"After tonight, there will be more people aware of you. You can never be too careful."
Living under guard was extreme, and even worse if Pegasus provided the guards. Would he have them report Seto's movements? Usher him to unintended locations?
"I'm a future engineer working on seemingly impossible projects. No one gives me a second glance."
But Pegasus held his gaze. He didn't say anything for several seconds, and Seto watched Pegasus's eyes flicker from Seto's left eye to right. Blinking felt like breaking a pact between them, and the sound of the violin was the only change around them.
"Being near me can be a burden," Pegasus said, gaze unwavering.
"It must be difficult to keep people close."
"There's the difference between loyalty and obligation."
"You carry the world on your shoulders," Seto said. If he had been talking with anyone else, his tone would have been sarcastic or bitter. One person shouldn't have Crawford's level of influence and control over so many countries. If Crawford had his way, it wouldn't just be half.
"You want more for yourself," Pegasus said.
"Who doesn't?"
"You'd be surprised. So many people aim for comfort above all else."
"Comfort sounds boring."
"Eventually, they'll all find it isn't enough."
Pegasus crossed a leg toward Seto, and it brushed against his knee. It might have been played off as accidental, but then Pegasus put his hand on Seto's knee. The touch was light, almost as if a word from Seto was all it would take to remove it.
"The other guests are probably concerned for you," Seto said, hoping to regain some of the distance he spent a year cultivating. Tonight moved too quickly. If Seto let Pegasus make any more advances, there would be no going back.
"I'm sure they got their story. What more do they need?"
"Confidence none of the bullets landed?"
"Only Croquet's hit the target."
"They may not know that."
Pegasus withdrew his hand and stood. "I suppose you're right. Sitting aside for a while was a nice break from the grind."
"Good luck with the masses, Master Crawford."
"Pegasus."
Seto should have said it back to acknowledge he had permission. Instead, he bowed slightly. Going from being required to call him master to using his given name was too personal, and too close to consent.
Pegasus's next breath came too strongly, too frustrated. If he had something to say, he didn't.
His guard—Croquet, Seto guessed—walked out with him.
Alone save the violinist, Seto put his head in his hands. He was sure she understood.
Hey all,
I'm giving this whole writing thing another go. I'm hoping to have a chapter ready each week, posting at some point each weekend. Hopefully, I can keep this low-pressure and use it to get me back into the swing of regular updates.
This chapter was drafted with intheshadowofsignificance.
