Ryou poured alcohol on the lash on Seto's lower back. Seto lay on his stomach, arms folded as a cushion under his head, hijacking Ryou's bedroom since the house wasn't safe. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, not permitting himself to react. Mokuba was waiting in the living room with Isono and Fuguta. Ryou's walls were thin.

"Three more," Ryou said. "I don't have enough butterfly bandages."

"Do what you can."

Bleeding through his clothes in front of Mokuba meant a confession. It also meant ruining another sweater. Ryou knew what he was doing after a decade of experience.

"When does he expect you home?"

"I don't care."

But likely before Gozaburo turned in for the night. Seto didn't intend to give Gozaburo a reason to chase after Mokuba as a missing person. He would involve the police the first moment he thought Seto planned to run with Mokuba.

"One picture of this and he would never be reelected."

Seto craned to look at Ryou. "And he loses custody, and Mokuba has to move to the States."

In the event something happened, Gozaburo's brother was Mokuba's legal guardian. Seto could pursue legal action to gain custody, but there was a chance nothing would come of it. Their uncle didn't care for Seto, and wouldn't let Seto close to Mokuba.

He might miss the rest of Mokuba's childhood.

"Do you really think he'll just let you both leave when he's eighteen?"

"He'd be the one breaking the law then."

Ryou gently dabbed off the dripping alcohol, then applied a bandage. He moved up to the next lash, this one partially wrapped around Seto's side. Those were always the worst place for the whip to hit, since Seto's arms grazed his sides dozens of times a day. They took longer to heal, and scarred more because of it.

"What would it take for him to let you both go?"

"Scarring my face to the point he can't stand looking at it."

"I thought he wasn't—"

"Mokuba could overhear."

Isono and Fuguta knew to keep Mokuba from putting his ear to the door, but the possibility gave him a reason to cut off Ryou's question. Seto could guess where he was headed. Gozaburo changed methods, but not enough Seto could give Ryou an answer he would be satisfied with.

"Did you tell Isono this time?"

"He would actually kidnap us in our sleep."

Isono and Fuguta knew about Gozaburo's anger and control issues, and knew he could get violent. But no one aside from Ryou knew the full extent. Seto intended to keep it that way. He was used to the pain and scars. Medicine and turtlenecks kept them out of sight.

"Someone should. One day, he'll go too far."

"He can't while I'm dating Crawford."

If Pegasus called things off after six months like Seto planned, it left five more years of Kaiba's free reign. Maybe Seto should meet with a lawyer now to contest custody.

Who would publicly cross the governor?

Ryou added another three bandages to that lash, and moved to another.

"Did Bakura show up for dinner last night?" Seto said to change the subject.

"An hour late, but yes."

"And how did it go?"

Talking about Ryou's personal life relieved Seto from his own. Ryou's concerns came from a good place, but Seto hadn't taken painkillers in a couple hours and had enough to deal with.

"Good, I think. He brought some beers, but we talked a while on the patio while he drank them. He told me some of what he's been up to."

"Anything interesting?"

"Well, he didn't sign up for improv or anything. He travels in his spare time. Visits tourist destinations and tries not to be seen at them."

"He didn't give a reason for dropping out?"

Ryou sighed. "It's just part of the job."

"How long did he stay?"

"Until ten. He wasn't even trying to leave earlier."

Ryou poured more alcohol on the last lash, and Seto winced. This was the last one. Almost done. He flexed his fingers.

"He may be too proud to admit he missed you."

"There's no place for pride in a family. Another sting."

Sting put it mildly. Seto tense and clenched his jaw to force himself to stay quiet. Somehow, Seto handled being whipped better. His expectations for himself in front of Gozaburo were infinitely higher.

Ryou finished and squeezed Seto's shoulder. Seto sat up and reached for his sweater. The collar hadn't cut into his neck this time, so he hadn't needed bandages under the collar of his turtleneck.

"I'll order lunch for us," Seto said.

"I can cook."

"Let me do something."

Ryou relented, and they went out to the living room, where Mokuba was teaching Fuguta how to play Minecraft. Fuguta looked uncomfortable holding the phone to the side.

"—look down, jump, thumb there, and place the block," he said. "It's easier on the computer."

"I'm sure Kaiba-sama would love for me to install it on his security room computers."

Mokuba laughed, and turned to Seto. "You guys took a while."

"And now we can't agree on what we should have for lunch. Preferences?"

Seto called Mokuba out of school earlier that day, pretending to be Gozaburo. It was too soon to risk Satuwatari intercepting him again. The next call Seto made to the school would be limiting who could pick up Mokuba to Isono, Fuguta, or himself. That would only work once.

"Not a salad," Mokuba said.

"I have takeout menus," Ryou said. "In the kitchen."

Ryou's kitchen opened to his living room without more than a half-wall separating them. But Seto walked over with him, and Ryou quietly opened a cabinet and offered him the bottle of painkillers.

Seto took three.

"He'll eat ramen," Seto said. "Is there a place nearby?"

"An okay place. They under-season."

The menu Ryou offered looked okay, and Seto didn't feel like running out to a convenience store. He could have sent Isono or Fuguta, but wanted them to stay with Mokuba.

"We can always add seasoning."

Ryou recommended which dishes were the best, and Seto called in a large order. Mokuba hit the age where his stomach was a bottomless pit, and he could eat for three if he liked the meal. Neither of them ate enough at home.

Seto sat on the floor, not leaning against anything to keep pressure off his back. It left the armchair for Ryou. His living room furniture hadn't been picked out for entertaining this many people.

"What did you order for me?" Mokuba asked.

"The pork bowl, specifically one without anything green in it."

Mokuba shot him finger guns. "You're the best."

He went back to talking Fuguta through the crafting menu, and Seto watched how proudly he taught Fuguta more of the game mechanics. It helped that Fuguta was a good sport, and cared enough to encourage Mokuba's interests.

Mokuba needed friends, and Seto hated having to tell him he may have to wait until university.

Someone knocked on the door.

"They deliver that fast?" Mokuba asked.

"It's probably Bakura," Seto guessed.

And was proved right when Ryou opened the door.

"No text again?" Seto asked.

"I texted," Bakura said gruffly, taking off his shoes just inside the doorway.

Ryou closed the door. "I haven't had my phone on me. We just ordered lunch."

"It's fine. Just here to talk."

Mokuba turned around on the couch to look at him. He had been six when Bakura left, and Seto didn't know how much Mokuba remembered.

Bakura's gaze flickered over Mokuba as he crossed the room to sit on the armchair, leaving Ryou to sit on the floor by Seto. When Seto glanced over, Ryou pulled out his phone and dismissed the text.

"I thought you both would be on campus."

"But you came here to look for them?" Mokuba asked.

"You take after your brother."

Mokuba straightened his shoulders.

"Your text didn't say why you were coming over," Ryou said.

"I thought I'd visit."

"At eleven on a Tuesday?" Mokuba asked.

"He really is just like you," Bakura said to Seto.

Seto put his palms to the floor behind him so he could lean back on something. It would be at least an hour before the pills fully kicked in, and making himself sit upright strained the already torn muscles.

"You make it sound like I should be apologizing for it."

The heat in the apartment kicked on, which meant it must have dropped too low. Ryou's apartment lease required a minimum temperature, but Ryou kept his heat set to the lowest the thermostat would allow him. The living room had blankets scattered around to lessen the need for a high bill every month of the fall and winter.

"Busy weekend?" Bakura asked Seto.

"Not at all."

Isono stared at Bakura, as if daring him to bring anything up in front of Mokuba. Convincing him not to cart off Seto and Mokuba at Bakura's first whisper of plotting had been hard enough. Seto didn't know whether Isono told Fuguta.

"And yesterday?"

"Nothing that would interest you."

"Try me."

There hadn't been anything worth recounting, or Seto would have gotten Ryou to call Bakura. Seto refused to debrief after every chance encounter.

"Like most every day, I worked in the lab. Ryou came by. So did Crawford before leaving for Singapore."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Odd choice of travel destination."

Seto assumed Pegasus traveled worldwide, at least to the countries under his thumb. Singapore fell under that category, and didn't seem any more noteworthy than the dozens of other possibilities.

"I doubt he's meeting with engineering contractors for pleasure," Seto said, and hoped that was the end of the discussion. He had nothing more to offer than that scrap of information, but couldn't address it outright.

Bakura's head tilted to the side in interest.

"But who's to say?" Seto added. "It isn't my place to ask."

"Crawford creeps me out," Mokuba said.

Mokuba had been less than thrilled when Seto told him about the date. It was unfortunate that Mokuba spent half his time online, because he had read about it before Seto had been able to sit down and talk with him. Their life had gotten even more dangerously public.

"We should have gotten adopted by someone out of politics," Seto said.

It got Mokuba to laugh. "Yeah. Could you imagine being normal?"

"Not at all."


Three weeks after Crawford had left, Seto got a text.

Back in town today. I don't suppose I could trouble you for dinner tonight?

Seto had been getting ready to leave campus, bag over his shoulder, waiting on Mokuba to stuff his homework into his backpack. The text came at an awkward time, half an hour before they were supposed to be home for dinner with Gozaburo.

Gozaburo would be angry, angry and alone with Mokuba.

I have Mokuba on campus. I wouldn't be ready for a while.

It was as close to refusing as Seto could get. He didn't want to make plans this last minute, even if the plans wouldn't put Mokuba at risk. Seto spent half his morning trying to convince his adviser that, for the fifth time, his prototype was feasible. And then he couldn't even work on the prototype because he was falling behind on his paper.

The last thing he needed today was an unexpected dinner date.

"Something wrong?" Mokuba asked.

"Possibly. You ready?"

"Yeah. Oh, wait, headphones."

Mokuba went back to grab them, and Seto's phone buzzed again.

Bring him along. I'd love to meet him.

Seto scrambled for any excuse to say no. His one feeble excuse had been countered easily, and nothing else came to mind. Dinner at home wasn't important enough to blame.

He looked to Isono. "It seems Mokuba and I have dinner plans tonight."

"We do?"

"Crawford just invited us out."

"Us," Mokuba said, flatly. "Like, he wants me to come on your date."

"They've been harmless so far. You can't expect me to date someone without you meeting them."

"Uh, I can when you're dating the leader of the not-so-free world."

Seto rolled his eyes and had to text back, What time?

And because it would be easier than calling, Seto texted Gozaburo to let him know they wouldn't be home for another several hours. The only thing Gozaburo hated more than Seto making contrary decisions was having to reply via text. If Seto got lucky, Gozaburo wouldn't reply at all.

I don't see any reason to wait. I'm famished.

"Do we really have to go?" Mokuba asked, half to Seto, and half to Isono.

"It isn't something we can turn down," Seto had to tell him. "You have school tomorrow, so we can try leaving a little early."

"Why do I need to go?"

"He asked to meet you."

Mokuba pulled a face. "What am I even supposed to talk about? Or...am I?"

Seto led them out and locked the lab, door. Things had quieted some with Pegasus out of the country, and people had given up hiding when Seto walked into the room. They still didn't interact much, but this was a step in the right direction.

"You are. I promise, we will make it as normal a dinner as possible."

If there were a way to get Mokuba out of dinner, Seto didn't have time to think of it.

I'll pick you up from campus.

Seto cursed.

Just leaving the lab now.

"He's coming to drive us. You'll need to take my car home," Seto told Isono, and handed over his keys. "You'll take back Mokuba's school things."

"Niisama, can't we play sick?"

"I would have had to say it in my first text."

But that wouldn't have been a bad idea. Even if Pegasus knew they were on campus, he could say Mokuba had just gotten sick and they were rushing home. He needed to find better ways to lie.

We'll meet you in the parking lot beside the student center, Pegasus replied.

Gozaburo hadn't, and Seto didn't bother looking for one. If Gozaburo was upset, he would say so when Seto got home. The day Seto got a text from Gozaburo was the day Seto took the chance on running with Mokuba. Or bought a lottery ticket.

"What if he picks a gross restaurant?" Mokuba asked.

"The one last time was good. I'm sure we can find something without broccoli."

"Or asparagus. Or squash."

Seto knew the full list. One day he hoped Mokuba would outgrow the picky phase, but until then, their chef could continue hiding various vegetables in their dinner, and do her best to keep Gozaburo from noticing the different plates.

He directed them toward the student center. It was in the opposite direction of the parking lot, but Isono followed for now. He wouldn't leave them alone until they had been picked up by Crawford.

Would the reservation need to be updated to include Mokuba? Did Pegasus go anywhere that didn't require one?

"I don't want to do this," Mokuba said.

Seto squeezed his shoulder. "I don't get a choice in it either."

"Shouldn't you date somebody you like?"

"It should work that way," Seto agreed. "And when you're older, you'll get that chance."

Mokuba crossed his arms. "He's really old."

"Is hitting thirty your definition of old? Careful, or you'll offend Isono."

"With age comes wisdom," Isono said simply.

He stayed with them until the car pulled up, sleek and black, with a government seal on the plate. The tinted windows didn't let Seto see inside, but there was little doubt who parked in front of them. Isono took Mokuba's bag and gave him a slight bow.

Croquet stepped out of the driver's seat and walked around to open the door. Seto glanced down to Mokuba before leading him to the car, gently, with a hand lightly on Mokuba's back.

"Seto, Mokuba, slide in," Pegasus said from inside. "I hope you both like lo mein."

"We do," Seto said. He got in first to put himself between Pegasus and Mokuba. The car was smaller than he imagined, and likely meant there were unmarked cars following with the rest of his security team. There was a guard in the passenger seat Seto didn't recognize.

"There's a local place I can't get enough of. It's my tradition to stop there first after coming home."

"I can't believe I haven't heard of it," Seto said. "They don't market themselves as your favorite restaurant?"

"Do you often check marketing emails from small restaurants?"

Seto relented the point as Croquet started to drive. Dinner at a laid back restaurant played to Mokuba's advantage. He already had made his posture small beside Seto, like he was trying not to be seen.

"How was the trip?"

"As boring as anticipated and rife with flights. Singapore, the States, Morocco, and China. They all pale in comparison to your company."

"I'm glad to know you prefer my company over jet lag."

Pegasus leaned forward to look around Seto. "It's nice to meet you, Mokuba. Seto has nothing but praise for you."

"Thank you, Master Crawford."

"Did you get a tour of his lab today?"

Mokuba raised his shoulders defensively. Seto mentally willed him on, and hoped he wouldn't need to goad Mokuba on all night. He was braver than he gave himself credit for.

"I go there after school," Mokuba said. His voice was small, but he maintained eye contact.

"Do you? That's a much more interesting after-school program than I was permitted to attend."

"I like to think of it as a set time for homework," Seto said, "Where I can make sure he doesn't spend all afternoon on Instagram."

Pegasus laughed, a hand landing on Seto's knee as he did.

"What sort of things do you post to it?"

"Just things I like. Lots of me and Niisama."

"I hear you like turtles."

Mokuba looked at Seto, and then back. "They're my favorite."

"And what's Niisama's favorite?" Pegasus asked, as if he were asking for Seto's deepest secret.

"Dragons."

Pegasus squeezed Seto's knee.

"He's already picked out a dragon for my office. It's breathtaking."

"He's going to make them real one day." Mokuba's head leaned side to side for a second. "Well, as real as someone could make them."

"How is your hardware coming along? You're so to-the-point over text."

They had exchanged a few texts back and forth over the last few weeks, and only the one call. The call had been short and the texts brief, and nothing had been learned or given away. Pegasus remained amiable and interested, even when Seto chose curt replies.

"I've begun fabrication on several pieces," Seto said. "Drawn up the 3D models I was able to, sent in the rest."

"How long until you try powering it up?"

"The machine shop said their turn around was three weeks, but they would attempt to make my order a rush job."

The campus facility had all been informed of Seto's new status and their need to give him anything he requested. In conversations with them, he found himself hoping someone would finally call it to the surface, and make a point of how ridiculous they were all being. Seto was still a student, and should have been treated like all the others.

"Now, being honest, what are the chances of it working on the first go?"

"A fraction of a percentage. Getting it right on the first attempt would be a miracle."

"But you could," Mokuba said.

"I'm not hoping for it. That's where the troubleshooting begins."

Croquet parked off the main road, in front of the entrance. Through the windows plastered with menus and pictures, he vaguely made out the inside of the restaurant. Aside from the people behind the counter, it was empty. Four guards stood on either side of the door, blocking the sidewalk and making a path from the car to the entrance.

"In order to eat here, I have to buy out the restaurant," Pegasus said, waiting on Croquet to open his door. "I've been assured they don't mind."

"It would be hard to advertise your patronage with their windows covered this much."

"Always so practically minded."

After Croquet opened the door, Pegasus slid out, but leaned back in to offer Seto a hand. They all would need to exit on the left side of the car since the right would open too near to traffic. Pegasus's hand was a pointless gesture, unless the gesture only meant touching Seto whenever he wanted. His fingers curled around Seto's palm, bringing him out of the car with only a slight extra pull. He didn't seem to notice Mokuba stepping out after.

The bell on the door chimed when they entered, and all the staff, waiting in a row, bowed to them. Mokuba kept half a step behind Seto.

"I'm partial to booths," Pegasus said. "Do you have a preference?"

"A booth is fine."

They chose one away from the windows. With how covered they were, sitting near the entrance didn't give much benefit. Being toward the kitchen lowered the potential angles a sharp shooter could take. Being this vigilant would have exhausted Seto. Watching his words constantly drained him enough as it was.

Seto and Mokuba sat across from Pegasus, and Mokuba eyed the menu, which was under the glass tabletop. Seto gave it a glance. A few previous customers had written their initials on the pages.

"Are you in Domino for anything specific this week?" Seto asked. "More art exhibits or charity galas?"

Pegasus laughed, and something about it sounded dismissive. "Work as always. If only there were events every week to lighten up my stays."

"You actually enjoy the galas?" Seto asked.

"When I have such a remarkable dancing partner."

"Dancing feels outdated."

Pegasus gave an exaggerated gasp. "Next you'll be saying art is an outdated form of expression and interpretation."

"My mind's solidly in the future."

"Then until you invent something to replace dancing, you'll be stuck as my partner on the ballroom floor."

Seto doubted Pegasus meant it that way, but it came across too easily. How could he had meant anything else when the words poured out like that? Pegasus planned on them being together that long? His statement didn't include an end. It promised a far distant future together.

Then Seto must have misinterpreted it. They had known each other a year, but only truly for a month. No one planned a future on a third date.

"You'd get tired of hearing quips about it."

"Never. Regardless of whether they're outdated, someone needs to voice them."

The owner—according to his name badge—came over to take their order. Pegasus placed the order for the three of them, and after having done so, verified, "Unless there's something else you'd prefer?"

Mokuba was still staring at the menu.

"Just make one of the plates without the bok choy and scallions," Seto said.

The owner wrote it down, although it seemed simple enough to remember, and then carried the order back to the kitchen.

"Not a fan of things being added to your noodles?" Pegasus asked Mokuba.

"Just green things."

Seto didn't want Mokuba feeling self conscious about his choices, and jumped in to change the subject. "You said you just got back from China? Should I find it ironic your first stop here is a Chinese restaurant?"

"A homecoming tradition, although, I concede your point. One in my favor is that it's made differently everywhere you go. You'd be amazed at how badly it's made at some of the restaurants in the US."

"Restaurants have to be different," Mokuba said. "That's how they stay in business."

"That's very true," Pegasus said. He interlaced his fingers and settled his attention on Mokuba. "Now, I have a very pressing question for you, and Seto isn't going to interrupt."

Seto must have looked confused, but Pegasus didn't give him any attention.

"Where did the term Niisama come from? I've never heard anyone else use it."

"It's, it's just what I call him," Mokuba said. He only stuttered when his nerves were high, and Pegasus didn't want Seto to cut in to help ease them. This wasn't an important question. Mokuba didn't need to be put on the spot.

"Is that what he called himself when you were growing up?"

Mokuba shook his head. "He never has."

Rather than ask any follow-up questions, Pegasus kept his gaze on Mokuba, still and waiting for the explanation. Seto could have given it in a sentence to let them move on, but grit his teeth. He'd step in if Pegasus pressed too hard.

"Go—our father started it," Mokuba finally said. He paused when the owner brought out their drinks, and waited until he left. "Niisama always took care of me, like he was my dad. I don't remember my real dad."

Seto had given Pegasus the ages they were adopted at. Mokuba had only been two.

"Niisama doesn't call him anything other than his name," Mokuba said. "And he doesn't like that. He wanted to be Tousama. But that isn't right. It's right for Seto."

Pegasus smirked, seemingly pleased by the explanation.

"You give your brother extra respect because it annoys your father?"

Mokuba shook his head, this time more urgently. "It only started like that. I really mean it. I always really meant it."

He turned up to Seto, giving him a desperate look. But Seto hadn't needed the explanation, and knew Mokuba hadn't held onto a childhood nickname this long just to insult Gozaburo. He lightly ruffled Mokuba's hair.

"I know."

When Seto looked up, Pegasus was staring at him. There was something indiscernible in his expression, and Seto could only guess at the meaning behind that look. He had seemed pleased with Mokuba's explanation, and then shifted into whatever this new reaction was. It was too mild for anger and too subtle for confusion. He stared as if seeing through Seto, like one look could pick apart his thoughts.

But he moved on from it a second later.

"You two have the most unique sibling relationship."

"That likely comes from me being twice his age."

"Would you say he's your best friend?" Pegasus asked.

"I would."

"I was assuming it would be the Bakura boy you introduced me to last month."

Seto thought back, trying to remember if he had used Ryou's full name in the introduction. He thought he had.

"Ryou would find the label unnecessary."

"You use his given name without a thought."

"He's one of the few people I prefer not to call me Kaiba."

"It's strange," Pegasus said. "You've told me so much about your work, but so little about your personal life."

"My work tends to sound a lot more impressive than recounting night after night of studying until I fall asleep."

"And Mario Kart," Mokuba added.

"And Mario Kart."

"What about the rest of your circle?" Pegasus asked. When he crossed his legs, his foot bumped into Seto's shin. Seto didn't think it was intentional, but shifted in his seat mostly out of reflex. Personal space extended under the tabletop.

"It's been more of a triangle," Seto said.

Before Bakura had left, Seto would have included him in that group. They hadn't gotten along the majority of the time, but when they did, Seto had enjoyed his company. Bakura convinced him to steal a few things from convenience stores, and it had been one of the first times Seto felt a rush of confidence. He had broken the rules and gotten away with it. Gozaburo's insistence that children should be seen and not heard could play to Seto's advantage. If he wasn't seen or heard, he could get away with anything.

He had gotten away with a lot.

"Are you really so deep in your studies you don't have a social group?"

"Niisama's a nerd," Mokuba said.

Seto scoffed, and gave Mokuba a pointed look.

"The best nerd," Mokuba clarified.

"That isn't any better."

Mokuba gave him a cheesy smile, and went back to looking at the menu. Seto took it to mean he was adjusting to having Pegasus this close, to speaking openly in front of him. Seto was the only person at the table who knew the relationship was a sham, so Mokuba was probably trying to accept this, like he had done for the last few people Seto had metaphorically brought home.

Gozaburo never would have allowed any of Seto's previous partners in his house. Seto rented hotel rooms if needed.

Getting to that point rarely happened. The last time it had, Joey backed out almost immediately. When they'd slept together before, in Joey's small apartment, Seto drew the blinds and turned off the lights. He kept his shirt on throughout. But in the penthouse at the top of the hotel, there weren't curtains to draw. The city lights shone in, dim, but enough for Joey to see.

Seto couldn't handle his pity, and that had been the end of things.

"Was Kaiba supportive of you going into engineering?" Pegasus asked.

"He wanted me to go into politics, and still does."

"You would have made a fine politician."

"I'll make a better engineer."

"There's that confidence. Have you looked into which companies you might want to work for?"

He had, and he wouldn't name any of them now. After seeing how the school reacted to the relationship, Seto refused to bring that into his workplace. This wasn't going to last more than a few months, and Pegasus couldn't get in touch with Seto's potential employers to influence his future.

"A few. There are a couple gaming companies I might like to work for, even if remotely."

"Don't most graduate students work while pursuing their degree?"

"Some do. One of the perks of being a Kaiba is not having to worry about paying for it."

If he had waited four more years in the orphanage, he could have gotten scholarships to pay part of his way through his undergraduate degree. But at eighteen, with student loans as his only income, he never would have been given custody of Mokuba. At the time, Gozaburo felt like the only choice.

He'd been an idiot at fourteen.

"Then I'm grateful for it. Finding time between your lab schedule and a working schedule would have been monumentally difficult."

"I wouldn't have been in Gozaburo's office that day if I was working."

Thinking about it made Seto wish he had gotten a job. It would have helped build his resume, and would have prevented Pegasus from ever seeing the oil on his hands and starting this ordeal.

As far as ordeals went, Seto supposed there were worse ones. Eating dinner and having a normal conversation was hardly strenuous.

"Isn't it funny how many moments we miss out on given our every decision?" Pegasus said.

Their food arrived, and Seto passed Mokuba his plate. Again, the owner hovered for a moment to make sure there was nothing else he could get them, and that everything was all right before he went to the back. Pegasus dismissed him without much thought.

"I hope you like this as much as I do," Pegasus said, and looked to Seto. "And I hope you'll start joining in on this tradition with me."

"Let me try the food first."

Seto did, forcing himself to swallow. His throat was dry.


Thanks for reading and reviewing!

You can expect an update the first weekend of November.