I keep changing how I spell 'Kiryuu.' What's life without whimsy?

I actually like Rebecca. Go figure.

Many thanks to everyone who is reading this! I really appreciate the support for this wacky story!

Want to get closer, in too deep

Where there is something I wish for, I'll go through

Want to get closer into you...

Will I fall in the right direction?

-Lacuna Coil

What in the hell am I doing?

Making coffee, for one. Sort of wishing it had some vodka in it. Or some sake. Throwing back iron supplements like they were candy, for another. He was supposed to take them with water; instead he crunched on them viciously with his back molars before swallowing more coffee.

Eating iron supplements viciously was a feat only one Seto Kaiba could perform, and only when he was really irritated. He wished he had an employee or colorful-haired midget he could blame his foul mood on, but for the first time in awhile, he was mostly upset with himself.

He liked to think of himself as infallible. He knew he wasn't, not really, but he thought that anyway. He made a terrible boss, companion, friend, and boyfriend, but at least he was generally good enough for himself. Most days, that was all he needed.

But this day…

At least I didn't sleep with him.

You did molest him in the car.

Shut up, inner self.

Wait. Since when do I have an inner self?

It's called a conscience?

Oh, shitty.

He groaned, sinking his face into both hands. Why the hell had he gone and done that? True, Kiryuu had started it, with the whole blood-drinking episode, but why had it felt so sexual, and why had he freaking encouraged it? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

If it was just a sex thing, that would be alright. That'd be kind of nice, even, having someone in bed with him in the morning. Easy, non-obligatory companionship. But something about Kiryuu pushed all of his buttons, intrigued him a little, made him want to dig deeper. And no one had made him want that since…since…

Seto's stomach twisted in on itself, and he dumped the rest of his mug of coffee and padded to the living room, feeling distinctly more riled up and irritable than he had a few moments earlier. He froze on the spot upon seeing Mokuba settled comfortably on the couch—and with his girlfriend under his arm, nonetheless.

"Hey, bro," the teenager said by way of greeting, lifting a hand. Said girlfriend waved. Rebecca Hawkins was only allowed around the mansion because she wasn't completely insufferable—she could banter with the best of them, and she was intelligent. And Mokuba liked her. So, there.

Seto grunted, throwing himself into his armchair and reaching for the paper. "Why aren't you at school?"

Mokuba lifted an eyebrow upwards. Just the one. It was a talent that ran in the family, it seemed. "It's, um, Saturday."

Oh, right. Damn Saturdays. His brother and free time were just not a good mix. "You could still be studying, seeing as you're barely passing."

"I'm making him study later," Rebecca piped up, grinning widely at her boyfriend when he grimaced at her. "Anyway—heard you had a date last night, Mr. Kaiba."

Seto threw his younger brother a glare. "It wasn't a date."

"Uh-huh."

"It wasn't."

"Uh-huh."

He threw the paper down a little more sharply than was absolutely necessary, suddenly no longer interested. "I'm going for a drive."

"Of course you are," Mokuba chuckled. "Take Kiryuu with you, he's entirely too reticent lately."

"You don't even know what 'reticent' means," Seto said wearily. Mokuba didn't argue, just snickered, motioning out the door, and Seto stalked out.

He hadn't really intended to stomp up the stairs, but then he was, not caring that he was in a tanktop and sweats and that his hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles, looking a bit like he'd stuck his head out the window of a car at about seventy miles an hour. The only thing particularly on his mind was the knowledge that there was someone upstairs, someone he bizarrely and intensely wanted to see, someone he'd come very close to taking to bed with him…

The car ride home had been awkward, to say the least. Whatever heat had been between them dwindled quickly, and when they crossed the threshold into the house, it freaking died. They had stood in silence, both disheveled from a healthy amount of groping and mutual disrobing. Kiryuu had mumbled something resembling a farewell and stalked upstairs.

And that was it.

Seto didn't fancy himself a huge romantic, but even he knew that something more was supposed to go down after kissing and groping another person in a car. Oh, and especially after that person sucked on his neck and drank his blood. Maybe vampires just had different rules.

"Oy," he growled out, opening the door to the guest bedroom. "Kiryuu…"

Said vampire was not up yet, and didn't look as though he had any intention of being so any century soon. Zero was all but cocooned inside the blankets, a halo of silver hair peeking over the top of his nest, resting upon the pillow. He groaned upon hearing his name, curling a little tighter in on himself.

"Go 'way…"

"Get up," Seto sighed, walking into the room and grabbing a handful of blanket, attempting to pull it away. Zero growled, kicking out at him and pulling the blankets closer.

"I said, go away. I'm tired, asshole."

"I don't care. It's nearly noon, get out of bed. We're going for a drive."

"The hell we are!" Zero all but exploded from the bed, sitting up and glaring at his host. "What, so you can feel me up again?"

Seto's temper flared, in spite of the fact that Kiryuu, bare-chested, his hair mussed from sleep, his very interesting tattoo standing out brilliantly against his pale skin, was looking very appealing. "No, so you can latch onto my neck and take a nice long drink, you ravenous freak. Because we need to talk."

"About what?" Kiryuu demanded irritably, swinging his legs out of bed and reaching for his shirt. He'd toppled into bed in his jeans; hardly comfortable, but Seto wasn't one to talk—he'd fallen asleep in business suits, multiple times.

"About the terms of your staying here," Seto replied, feeling a little more smug when Zero looked briefly panicked. "I'm not kicking you out. But we obviously need to set some…boundaries."

For a moment, Kiryuu only looked at him, a thousand emotions flashing through those amethyst eyes—and then he nodded, slowly. "Okay."

A little startled by his complacence, Seto shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Uh. Yeah. So. Meet you downstairs."

"Um," Kiryuu said suddenly, getting to his feet. "Are you, uh, okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your anemia," Kiryuu pressed, his cheeks turning a very flattering shade of pink. "I, uh, bit you yesterday, so I was wondering…"

"Oh. Yeah, of course I'm okay." Seto rubbed the back of his neck, wincing when he grazed the fresh fang marks by the corner of his jaw, now subtly covered with a flesh-colored bandage. "I've lived with it all my life. I can handle it."

"You've never had anyone drink from you," Zero reminded him, sounding just a little guilty. As he damn well should. "That, uh, tends to complicate things."

Seto smirked. "My good health was getting boring anyway. Clothes, Kiryuu, fresh ones. Be downstairs in five."

"Yeah, yeah," Zero grumped sarcastically, rolling his eyes upwards, but he pushed himself out of bed and headed into the adjoining bathroom all the same. Seto lounged against the doorjamb for a moment, chewing on his lower lip, before turning and heading out the door, padding down the hallway toward his own room.

He and Zero were going to have to talk about this vampirism thing—about whatever was going on between them when Zero drank from him, about why he was doing that to begin with, and about what was going to happen next.

It occurred to him, upon entering his room, that he had no idea what to wear. Taking a drive to discuss the ups and downs of living with a vampire didn't quite qualify as a date, did it? Were he and Zero past the 'dating' stage, or had they never had a chance at getting there to begin with?

…Had he wanted them to get there? He didn't know the guy. Not at all. Not really. Certainly not as much as he ought to, considering that Zero Kiryuu was a vampire. And living in my house. The same house as his beloved little brother, nonetheless. What in the hell was he doing? Kiryuu had attacked him, put him in the hospital, shown up in the hospital room, and jumped all over him in the car yesterday. The whole situation should have had 'restraining order' written all over it, and yet…

Something in him, something very deep and very secret, was determined to keep Zero around, for reasons he couldn't even begin to explain. Just the sight of the guy put Seto a little more at ease, more at ease than he'd felt in months—more precisely, since Jou had left.

Don't. Don't think about that.

They were different, Jou and Zero—Crap, why am I thinking about it?—but they were similar, too. Kicked puppies, the both of them, in need of help, of someone to just be around for them. Jou had been, in any case. As soon as he got back on his feet, his boyfriend had become an unnecessary headache, hadn't he?

Don't do this to yourself. You know where it leads.

"Kiryuu," he shouted down the hallway, pulling on the first pair of trousers he found. "Anywhere you need to go?"

"Of course not," the younger man's irritated voice replied, echoing in the large hall. "Where would I need to go? Besides, don't you have important crap to do? Why am I getting dragged along to begin with?"

He acts mistrustful, but he's coming, isn't he? "I was just being courteous, you brat." A plain black t-shirt, topped by a V-neck gray sweater. Still not as casual as maybe Mokuba would've liked, but it wasn't a suit, and it sure as hell didn't insinuate that there was anything more to this little outing than a trip into town.

"Fine, whatever. I'm ready."

Padded footsteps approached his room. Seto turned to see Zero hovering in the doorway—and froze. The young man standing before him now was a far cry from the wretch in a tattered coat he'd first dragged out of an alley. For the first time, Zero looked his age, clad simply in worn jeans (an old pair of Seto's, and therefore long enough to nearly cover his toes) and a blue plaid flannel. There was a strange expression on his face—something almost timid, as if he were waiting for approval, and the look was so eerily familiar that Seto felt it as a physical pain behind his sternum.

"Hello?" Zero prompted, scowling a little, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. "Are we going or what?"

"…Yeah," Seto said distantly, shaking himself and turning to his bedside table. On went his favorite watch—Christmas gift from Mokuba, who'd pointed out in exasperation that shopping for his brother was impossible, and that watches were clearly a cop-out gift—and he reached for his pendant, his treasured memento from a different time.

It was so odd to not feel it in hand that for a moment, he didn't even realize it was gone. Another moment passed, then another—and in that short span, he went from feeling vaguely surprised to down right panicked.

"Shit," he breathed, dropping to the ground and peering under the bed, ignoring Zero's startled breath. "Shit! Dammit to all hell, where—?!"

"Where what?" Zero demanded irritably, bemused at the sight of the young CEO rummaging around like he was checking for monsters under the bed. "What are you looking for?"

"None of your business—look, get out, you're not helping—"

"Maybe if you'd tell me what it is you're—"

"It's a necklace," Seto snapped, getting up and turning on the vampire. "A plain black cord, and the pendant on the end is—it's a card, but it's got a picture inside…"

Zero stared at him for a moment, and then his eyes widened. "Hold up a second." He turned on his heel and took off back down the hall, darting into his borrowed room. A moment passed, and then he returned, looking a little flushed, but pleased. "This?" he prompted, grinning, extending a hand.

He had it—the pendant, clean and unbroken, still on its little black cord. Seto released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, taking back his prized possession slowly, almost reverently. He slipped the cord over his head, cradling the pendant in his palm and clicking it open with a thumb, smiling unknowingly at the old photo within, unharmed.

"I, uh, found it in the alley," Zero said awkwardly, a little wary of breaking the odd silence that had fallen between them. "Where you found me, I mean. Er, while you were in the hospital. I would have given it back earlier, I just…sort of forgot about it."

"How did you know it was mine?" Seto asked quietly, tucking the pendant beneath his sweater, reassured by the familiar weight against his chest. Light, of course, but immensely more important than anything else in the world.

"The kid inside—it's Mokuba, yeah? When he was little. I didn't recognize him, at first."

"Yeah, well. He's grown." We both have, since then. "Kiryuu…thanks."

Zero scuffed a foot on the floor, and Seto could have sworn he saw a pink tinge on the boy's cheeks. "I wasn't trying to do you a favor or—or make you owe me one, or anything like that."

"I know. But thanks anyway." Seto tucked his hands into his pockets, feeling shy and awkward and hating every minute of it, but…some things just had to be done. "And, look, I'm…sorry. About yesterday, in the car. I'm not normally so…impulsive."

"It's not just you," Zero said quickly, lifting his hands and shaking his head. "Blood-drink is, uh…it's supposed to…feel good. It's pretty deep and…well, it's sexual. It was my bad, pushing that on you. I mean, we don't even know each other, and—"

"I got dumped."

"—Eh?"

Seto sighed, running a hand through his hair, shrugging one shoulder. "I was with a guy until recently. We hit a rough path a few months ago, and…I've been having some trouble since. It's been a while since I've really gotten along with anyone but Mokuba, and it was a little too easy to get caught up in—whatever this is. So vampirism and blood rituals aside, I'm sorry."

"Hey," Zero retorted, bristling, "it's not a blood ritual, it's—"

He broke off, startled by the arms that rested on his shoulders, the hands knitting together behind his neck, and Seto Kaiba's forehead touching his.

"Kiryuu. I'm messing with you. Just accept the damn apology, alright?"

"Uh—yeah. Sure. No problem."

"And the blood drinking thing. I meant it when I said I didn't mind. I don't know why I'm the one who found you, or why you're in the position you're in, but I get the feeling we're in this now. And I, for one, am not the sort of man to let business go unfinished."

Zero felt his face growing hot. Kaiba's eyes were mesmerizing, had been since the moment they'd first looked at one another, and the young hunter still found it impossible to look away once those sapphires settled on him.

"Me neither."

Seto smirked, tapping his forehead against Zero's, and then he pushed off, stretching widely as he walked past the hunter to head for the stairs.

"Then that's settled. Hurry along, vamp—we're still going for that drive."

Zero had felt comfortable in Domino City since he'd first arrived several days ago. Now that he was free of his duties as a hunter, and distanced from all the painful memories that went with it, he found he even liked the city. It wasn't as far from the mansion as Zero had originally thought; the expansive grounds Kaiba owned created an illusion of distance, but the energetic city was little more than a hop, skip, and a jump outside the gate.

Window rolled down, wind teasing his silver hair, Zero let himself take in the business district as Kaiba weaved easily through the morning traffic. There was an impressive amount of people heading to work on bikes, ties flapping up into helmeted faces as they raced along the widewalks, waving occasionally at passerby in cars. Kaiba had lifted a hand a few times, responding to hails, in between answering phone calls via Bluetooth. Zero was beginning to feel antsy just watching him, but then, he'd never been one for social interaction beyond hunting, and most conversations between hunters and vampires took place with bullets, not cell phones.

An acrid smell hit his overly sensitive nose, and Zero threw an exasperated look at his companion. "Smoking kills."

He'd been expecting an icy glare, but Kaiba shot him a rueful smile in answer as he took a deep drag off the cigarette.. "Not if the stress gets me first," he replied, purposefully exhaling in Zero's general direction and laughing when the vampire made a face. "Nicotine, booze, blood—we all have our vice."

"Yeah, yeah," Zero grumbled, waving a hand in the air to clear the smoke, grateful when Kaiba rolled down the driver-side window. "Where are we going?"

"I need to drop by the office," Kaiba sighed, running a hand through his hair and frowning at his reflection in the rearview mirror. He was looking rather tired and casual, his hair an untidy mess, hanging in his eyes; Zero would never admit it, but the look was sort of attractive. "One of our senior security officers quit recently to stay at home with his kids, and Roland's having trouble finding a replacement."

"Roland?" Zero questioned, putting his feet up on the dashboard and grinning at Kaiba's disapproving look.

"My head of security. Get your feet down, this car is expensive."

"Yeah? How expensive?"

"More expensive than my attorney's fee when I'm prosecuted for killing you. Feet down."

Zero swallowed a laugh, but couldn't smother his smile. He was feeling entirely too happy lately, and it was beginning to unnerve him. Maybe he was just giddy at the prospect of never having to hunt again, at not seeing himself in the eyes of every Level E he had to track down. Running from the Society was the best thing he ever did. It was like a vacation—a break from the hell his life had become. At least until Kaname's blood dwindled from his system, when he'd find himself on the other end of a hunter's gun.

"Damn!" he muttered, eyes widening at the sight of the building that came into view as they turned off of the main street. "That's your building?!"

"Yeah," Kaiba replied, smirking, peering through the windshield to look at the immense corporate headquarters with a sort of manic pride. The megastructure, with its four intersecting glass towers and dramatic height, was easily one of Domino's most easily recognized landmarks, made even more memorable by the two stone dragons that guarded the entrance.

They parked in the front lot and disembarked, Kaiba yawning, hoisting his briefcase over his shoulder, and Zero trailing behind him, head tilted back and mouth slightly open as he stared up at the building.

"Here, boy," Kaiba drawled over his shoulder, answering Zero's glare with a smirk and beckoning him onwards. They ascended the stairs to the front door. "This'll only take a min—shit."

Zero peered around the other man, tongue in cheek. He expected a big ass, fancy corporation to run like clockwork—or to at least have a front lobby that wasn't full of very panicked-looking employees. A few people were shouting for order, but to no avail. A secretary was attempting to make a phone work at the front desk, and looking very much like she was going to throw it out the nearest window.

"Hey," Kaiba said, clearly annoyed. No one paid him any mind. "Oy." Zero saw the young CEO's shoulders rise, and jammed his fingers in his ears just in time to miss Kaiba's bellow.

"Everybody shut up!"

A middle-aged man holding an armload of files nearby threw them all in the air and raised his hands like he was being held up in a bank. Kaiba stared at him for one exasperated moment before turning back to the crowd.

"What. In the hell. Is going on here?" he demanded hotly. Zero could have sworn he heard teeth grinding. "I realize I have a lot of employees, but I'm still one hundred percent positive I haven't hired anyone to stand around in the lobby."

The room was very silent for a moment, and Zero took a second to appreciate how hilarious it was to see so many adults completely cowed and terrified by a youth half their age (and probably the same age as their own children), before a young woman working at the front desk timidly raised her hand.

"Sir," she said tentatively, "um, that is—none of the electronics are working."

"None of the—" Kaiba stared at her, dumbfounded. "The circuit boards passed inspection not even a week ago. How in the hell is everything down? Computers? Elevators? The damn doors?"

"All of them, Boss," piped in the man who had dropped his files, his hands still raised over his head. "Even the pencil sharpeners."

Kaiba pressed a hand to his forehead, groaning. "Oh, God forbid the pencil sharpeners stop working. None of this explains why half of my employees are sitting in the front lounge acting like scared children. Why didn't someone get down to the control room?"

"We tried, sir," another man replied. "The, uh—the bots chased us out."

"We tried to get into the lab, too," said the file guy. "But the doors were locked up tight."

"Bots? Lab?" Zero cut in with a whisper, jabbing Kaiba in the ribs. "What the hell kind of operation are you running here?"

But Kaiba ignored him—a look of realization was dawning on his face, though it was quickly replaced by something much more pained. "Damn," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He pulled out his cell phone, hitting a number on his speed dial. Everyone in the room stood perfectly still and silent while he waited for the person on the other end to pick up.

"Mokuba," he said after a few seconds, rubbing the back of his neck. "I—oh, Roland called? Yeah, everything's out. Lab's locked—mmn, that's what I thought. I might need your help. Yeah—I'll wait out front. Thanks."

The phone returned to his pocket, and he turned back to his waiting employees.

"Good news," he said grumpily. "Take the day off."

The lobby cleared out faster than a theater on fire. Zero sat on the front desk, drinking an abandoned soda and watching—with some amusement—Kaiba pacing, agitated, back and forth.

"So," the hunter said lightly, finding that he was rather enjoying the show, "what's going on?"

"Family troubles," Kaiba muttered irritably. "Why don't you take a walk, Kiryuu?"

"What, and miss the show?" The glare he got in return for his quipped comment looked like something out of a slasher flick. "What took out your kingdom of corporate assholery?"

Zero was spared the assuredly caustic answer; a screech of tires and an alarming park job announced Mokuba's arrival. The teen jogged up the stairs, his blonde girlfriend on his heels.

"What's the story?" Mokuba asked, looking more serious than Zero had seen him thus far. The girl standing just behind him looked similarly solemn, brows furrowed. "Lockdown?"

"Yeah, and completely unscheduled. All electronics shut down, Vis running around harassing people," Kaiba replied.

Mokuba quirked a rueful smile. "Sounds like a temper tantrum."

"That's what I figured. I thought you should be the first person to go in."

"Gee, thanks," Mokuba snorted, rolling his eyes skyward.

"Well, he trusts you."

"Yeah, yeah." Mokuba tucked his hands in his pockets and strode toward the door behind the lobby, followed by his older brother.

Zero and the girl hovered for a moment, glancing at one another awkwardly. She was sort of pretty, for a younger girl; large blue eyes searched him curiously from behind black-rimmed glasses.

"I'm Rebecca," she offered after a moment. "I'm Mokuba's girlfriend."

"Uh. Zero. I'm Kaiba's…something."

"Another one?" she said, smiling widely, and trotted off after the brothers before Zero could question her. Frowning, he reluctantly followed.

Mokuba and Seto had jimmied the back door open and were standing in front of a huge set of double blast doors at the end of the long hallway by the time Zero and Rebecca caught up with them. Kaiba leant against the wall, arms folded over his chest, while Mokuba addressed a speaker by the door.

"Because we wanna talk, that's why," he was saying, frowning. "Come on, man, if you have a problem, just tell us, don't shut down the whole place down."

Zero jumped when something emerged from the wall—he'd thought it was a security camera, but it extended on a long mechanical arm and swiveled about, looking at each of them in turn, its glowing blue eye blinking on occasion. Then a voice sounded from the speaker, surly and youthful.

"He can't come in."

Kaiba scoffed, looking affronted, but Mokuba shot him a warning glare.

"That's cool. Just you and me, then."

There was a pause, and the camera abruptly zipped back into the wall, and the double doors opened just a crack. Mokuba kicked his brother in the shin when Seto stepped forward before disappearing into the lab. The doors snapped shut behind him.

"Dammit," Kaiba growled, rubbing his leg and glaring at the speaker. "It's like dealing with a ten-year-old."

"He is a ten-year-old," Rebecca sighed, lifting an eyebrow. "Just because you grew up doesn't mean he did."

"Mokuba's not ten," Zero interjected, frowning, and got double exasperated looks for his input. If he didn't know better, he'd say Seto and Rebecca were related.

"Not Mokuba," Seto sighed, shaking his head. His hand was in his hair again—apparently it was a nervous tic, not primping. "Noah."

Zero wrinkled his nose. "Who?"

"He's a virtual personality," Seto said, waving a hand in an encompassing motion around the hallway. "He's in the computers, the bots, the network—a thinking mind and super-hub all in one."

The hunter stared. "Like Jarvis?"

Seto blinked, uncomprehending, and Rebecca muttered "From Iron Man."

"Oh. Um. Not quite. Noah's not a computer, he's—he was—a real person." Seto was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Rebecca was making a face like she was searching for something to say that might change the topic. "All that's left of him is a virtual imprint of his mind and personality, and it only exists in the Kaiba Corp network."

Zero's stomach gave a funny jolt. "How does a ten-year-old kid's mind wind up inside a supercomputer?"

"Japan's leading virtual tech company is nothing if not resourceful," Rebecca answered; there was a look in Seto's eyes that suggested that he was done talking about the subject. The blonde smiled nervously at Zero and tried the door—when it gave a little, she slipped inside, leaving Zero alone with the sulking CEO.

The vampire chewed his lower lip, glancing up at the other man. He guessed that this was the sort of scene that would make the CEO's fan girls squeal. Between the rumpled gray sweater, heavy expression, and mussed hair, he was looking—dare he even think it—awfully cute.

"You want to talk about it?" Zero ventured at length, leaning his weight on the wall beside the other man, just close enough that their shoulders touched.

A long pause followed the soft inquiry, and then Seto sighed, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. "I don't know what I would say. It's a long story."

Zero shrugged. "I'm not busy."

Kaiba smiled faintly, and another silence indicated to Zero that the conversation was over before it could begin—but then Seto spoke again, quietly.

"Noah played in the road. Chased a dog or something. He was ten, just a dumb kid. He didn't know any better. Most parents tell their kids not to go running out in front of cars." The mop of brunet hair Zero had been staring at disappeared; Seto had slid down the wall to sit on the floor, arms hanging over his knees, his head down. Sensing a moment of real vulnerability, Zero opted to stay put. "What kind of father spends thousands of dollars hiring tutors and instructors to teach his kid chess and French and classical literature, and then doesn't think to teach him some damn common sense?"

Seto furrowed his brow, glaring at his own hands. "That was Gozaboro's motus operandi from the get-go, I suppose. It didn't matter if the kid was his own, or one he plucked out of an orphanage on a bet, he only saw tools. Never people—never children."

Zero felt something then—a kind of pressure in his chest, something that almost choked off his words. Slowly, as if afraid of startling the other man, he sank to the floor, staring at the downcast blue eyes.

"My parents made me into a gun," he said softly. Seto looked at him, and the understanding there filled a hole in Zero that had been a part of him for years. It wasn't sympathy, but empathy. This was it—the weird thread that bound them together, that made them feel this inexplicable trust, was the sad story of their childhoods, the truth about the theft of their humanity, and the painful remnants the thieves had left behind. "My mom and dad loved me, I know they loved me, but…my brother and I were hunters first, and kids second. I was their son—and I was a trigger finger on the Bloody Rose. I may have been too young to understand some things, but I always got that. From the day I was born, my parents expected me to be a weapon."

He suddenly felt too unsteady for his own two feet, and he, too, slid to the floor, sitting against the wall with his legs splayed out into the hallway in front of him. Talking about his brief and often difficult childhood awakened a long subdued pain in his chest, and he had to swallow a few times before he could go on.

"Thing was, I was a really good weapon. Good at everything. Gifted, the other hunters said. But my little brother…he was sick, and weaker than me. Everyone thought of him as a failure."

"You didn't," Kaiba said quietly, and Zero smiled faintly.

"No. I never did. He was my brother. He was my best friend. Ichiru was…" He trailed off for a moment, struggling to put the feeling into words. It had been awhile since he'd talked about his family; Kaname knew the whole story, and was wroth to dig up those painful memories, but it felt oddly nice to divulge to someone who might understand.

"Your other half," Kaiba supplied, smiling crookedly the way he did. "Your better half, at that."

Zero looked at him, searching that piercing gaze, and for the first time didn't it find it sharp or intimidating—just insightful, watchful. "Yeah. Exactly. The only person in the world who had one hundred percent of my trust."

The brunet frowned, his brow furrowing. "Why the past tense?"

"Ichiru's gone," Zero said quietly, sinking a little further down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. "Just like my mom and dad, and my foster sister, and…"

"…And Kaname?"

"Yeah. And Kaname." Saying his lover's name hurt, and though he knew it was childish, Zero buried his face in his forearms, swallowing his tears. He'd done his crying for his lost pureblood, in private, where no one would see his abject grief. He felt foolish now, breaking down in front of someone he barely knew, but he wasn't sorry. He'd spent a long, long time being strong—his whole life, in fact. Sometimes even a man had to cry.

Seto didn't think it foolish. He'd had his share of meltdowns—maybe he'd never quite been pushed to tears, at least not since he'd been adopted by Gozaboro Kaiba, but mental breaks from reality were par for the course (mostly brought on by mystic relics from five thousand years ago, but that was another point entirely). He watched Zero quietly, without comment, offering neither ridicule nor comfort; he seriously doubted that Kiryuu wanted either from him. But watching the vampire cry stirred something in him. Empathy, mostly, because he knew the hurt that Zero was feeling, but…the sight also brought forth the weirdest sense of déjà vu he'd ever experienced. It went beyond that—it was triggering an entirely different sensory set altogether. He could feel slim shoulders beneath his arm, taste sand in his mouth, see the glare of the hot sun right before he pressed his face into colorless tresses and let his eyes fall closed.

"Is your hair dyed?" he asked abruptly.

Zero lifted his head, eyes rimmed with red, hastily wiping his cheeks. "What?"

"Your hair. That can't be your natural color."

"It is," Zero said glumly, scowling upwards at a few errant strands hanging in his eyes. "Among other things, hunters nearly always wind up with oddly colored hair. We're a unique breed, I sup—what?"

Kaiba was peering closely at him, looking positively baffled. Silver locks of hair framed his face, not white—and his eyes were amethysts, not sapphires. The same incredibly pale skin, though, and the same sense of quiet power, both attractive and intimidating. And fragility—the sense that this being was desperately in need of protection. His protection. Seto had felt this before, though not in his twenty-one years of life, and that thought settled grimly in the back of his consciousness, promising wickedly to arise to torment him later.

"Nothing," he said uncomfortably, leaning back against the wall, sighing to himself. "I was just thinking out loud. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—change the topic, or…whatever."

"S'alright," Zero said somewhat thickly; he looked like he could use a tissue. "I'm ready to talk about something else."

"For what it's worth," Seto said, looking back at the younger man, a little startled, as always, by the intensity in Zero's gaze, "I'm sorry about your brother. I don't know how you survived it."

"Dunno either," the hunter murmured. "Kaname, mostly."

"So what's keeping you alive now?"

There followed a slightly tense silence. Zero mulled his answer around, thinking on it. It was a good question.

"Possibilities," he said at last. He'd never had them before, but that sapphire gaze made him wonder if maybe he had them now.

The moment—whatever sort it was—was interrupted by the opening of the double doors, and Mokuba stuck his head into the hallway. "You're up," he said grimly. "I can't make the concessions he wants, that's your authority."

"Of course it is," Seto sighed contemptuously, getting heavily to his feet. He offered Zero a hand, which the hunter took somewhat reluctantly, his cheeks turning nearly crimson.

"I'm not a girl," he huffed, but the young CEO merely smirked and beckoned him through the doors.

So this was where the magic happened, Zero thought amusedly as he stepped into Kaiba Corporations R&D lab. He was impressed; computers and crap like that were, as a rule, somewhat beyond him, but even he could tell there was high tech stuff going on in this room. The first indication was the robots—not the cyborgs he'd had in mind, but funny little pod-shaped things that zipped around underfoot and occasionally made indignant-sounding noises when they hit obstacles.

"These were terrorizing your employees?" he snorted, kicking one over and watching with amusement while its little wheels spun helplessly, and it erupted in a flurry of bleeps.

"They're hell in an office space," Mokuba said warningly, getting the pod-bot upright and watching somewhat fondly as it zoomed off, pointedly swerving around Zero. "Especially when they're all controlled at once and instructed to wreak havoc—right, Noah?"

One of the monitors nearest Zero flickered on, and he was surprised by the image of a boy on its face. He certainly looked ten, at least by his sullen expression, brown eyes scowling at them underneath a fringe of curiously aquamarine hair.

"I wouldn't have had to do anything of the sort if someone was responsible enough to swing by his own R&D department every once in a while," the boy on the monitor snipped haughtily, resting his cheekbone on his knuckles and scowling pointedly at Seto.

The eldest Kaiba rolled his eyes. "Someone was a bit busy, kid," he retorted, gesturing toward his hunter companion. "Noah, meet Zero. Zero, meet the virus."

"Noah's our stepbrother," Mokuba said cheerfully, kicking Seto in the shin again and earning himself a hot –blooded slew of colorful language. "And that makes him family, as much as both of them hate to admit it."

"Yeah, I got that," Zero said somewhat uneasily, as a pod-bot drove itself over Seto's foot while Noah praised it for doing so. "Have you guys ever heard of dysfunctional families?"

"They wrote the book," Rebecca said from a corner of the room, tapping away at one of the computers, her glasses on the edge of her nose. "I'm pretty impressed, Noah—you managed to reroute all electronic control to R&D, totally outside of administration."

"I'm administration, you traitor," Seto retorted hotly.

"It was almost pathetically easy," Noah said, speaking over him, settling his face and both hands and smiling pleasantly at Rebecca. "It's like no one's updated the firewalls in years."

"Because no one but you can hack them!" the CEO snapped, sounding exasperated.

"That's not excuse for negligence," Noah quipped, clearly enjoying himself. He looked over at Zero, flashing him a grin. "So. Are you dear Nii-sama's new boy toy?"

"Noah!"

"No," Zero said flatly, but his pulse quickened when he tried not to remember their heated exchange in the car, and the way Seto had looked at him in the hall. "I'm just crashing at their place. Career change."

"Ah. I'm a little disappointed, actually," Noah sighed. "The last one—it was Joey, right?—he was so amusing, I was kind of hoping Seto would bring someone else along."

Zero heard a very unpleasant grinding sound; he was fairly certain it was Kaiba's teeth, which opened to snap out, "What do you want, Noah?"

"I want credit for my work," the computerized youth replied at once.

"What are you talking about?"

"The new software you're releasing next month," Noah said, now very serious. "The virtual reality programming that you're sending off to the American developers. I want my name included in the project."

His stepbrother paused, chewing his lip, brow furrowed. "Noah—I'll admit readily that the project wouldn't have gotten done nearly so fast nor so well if it weren't for your help, but you know I can't give you public credit."

"Why not?"

"Because you're legally dead," Seto answered, frustrated. "If I list you as one of the developers, how am I supposed to explain your contribution? Am I supposed to tell the media that my deceased stepbrother's mind is living in my mainframe?"

"Assisting on these projects is the only thing I'm capable of doing," Noah snapped back, clearly upset. "You think I want to spend the rest of my miserable existence making sure the thermostat stays constant? Or shall I use the mind I was born with? It's the only thing I have left!"

"Use it all you want! Use it until you blow a circuit! I'll give you all the resources you need, but you know I can't tell anyone else that it's you making this stuff!"

The boy frowned; even over the monitor, he looked close to tears. "Do you intend to take credit for what I've done?"

"I intend to do nothing of the sort," Seto replied shortly. "The other developers will receive the accolades for the software; I'll only appear as the sponsor of the funds and resources. Which is the truth, Noah. This is still a KC project—and whether anyone knows it, you're a part of this company."

Noah sat still and quiet for a moment, staring down at what Zero presumed was his lap; then he smiled bitterly, shaking his head. "Locking me up in a digital universe, monitoring every move I make—you're no better than Father."

Before anyone else could get a word in, the monitor turned off; all the pod-bots promptly fell on their sides, only to turn back on a few moments later, beeping monotonously, as if they'd lost all of their luster. When no one moved, Zero stooped slowly and put on upright, watching it zoom away, out the doors, which opened again of their own accord. Noah appeared to have restored power to the building. He thought he heard movement upstairs, as the few employees who'd stuck around began summoning elevators and moving down the hallways toward their respective offices.

"He didn't mean that," Mokuba said at length, breaking the awkward silence. "Not really."

Seto sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, his brow knitted tightly. "I know," he said quietly. "But he's right. Kid doesn't deserve this."

"What else can we do?" Mokuba asked helplessly. "Short of cloning a human body and somehow imprinting his mind on its brain, there's no way for us to get him out of that computer."

"I know. And he understands that—he's just frustrated. Any sane person would be—and trapped like that, he's not going to stay sane for long. He need something to validate this crap position he's been forced into."

"Maybe we can fabricate something. Say that Noah left notes and stuff like that around the mansion, or on the computers—that we developed his ideas and want to give him credit post—post—"

"Posthumously."

"Yeah. That."

"I'll think on it," Kaiba replied. "If we could find a way to extend his range—get him into a mobile apparatus—he'd be even happier." He looked down at the little pod-bots, expression thoughtful. "I'll work on these. Not much, but it's a start."

"What are they for?" Zero questioned, finally sensing a place where he could comfortably come back into the conversation, thought Rebecca was wisely staying out of it, busying herself with restarting the computer. Both brothers looked over at him. "The little robots, I mean."

Seto sighed loudly, shaking his head and muttering something about wasting money; Mokuba grinned, a hint of mischief flashing in his eyes.

"I designed 'em," he said proudly, leaning down to pat one on its domed head. "They do stuff like carry supplies from office to office, or sweep hallways—although their core programming is more fun."

"Yeah? What's it do?"

Mokuba laughed, and his older brother appeared more exasperated. "Knock on Seto's office door and then bolt."

No, Zero is not Kisara reincarnate. Because she's a trading card now. Clearly.