It took a little while for the kappa Kaiba to realize that it was the source of all the incessant ringing. It's sensitive ears took quite a thrashing with the loud ring tone the real Seto Kaiba had set. The kappa ignored the phone for a few seconds, instead focusing on the direction in which it thought the blonde artist had disappeared to. However, since there was neither hide nor hair, the water-sprite gave up and resigned itself back into Kaiba's subconscious.
When Seto opened his eyes, it was like waking from a dreamless sleep. For a few moments, he couldn't orient himself enough to figure out which way was down; and he ended up flat on his face within about three seconds. He couldn't figure out why his eyes were so heavy and clouded.
Finally, the annoying ring tone set to his cell phone abolished the vertigo of coming to, and he fumbled with his pocket for a few minutes, and then answered the small device.
"Kaiba." He spoke harshly, as he did with every business associate.
"Ah, Kaiba-sama," came the nasally voice at the other end of his small Nextel. "A Pegasus J. Crawford has asked me to deliver you a message personally. Would you like it now or would you like to wait until you come to the office?"
Brown hair ruffled in the wet breeze; tossing and turning Seto's hair into his face. Small, wet tears of the sky caressed his face, leaving crystalline tracks in their wake. Unconsciously tightening his grip on his small cell phone, Kaiba's eyes narrowed at the mention of Pegasus' name.
"What does he want?" Seto spat. He turned on the heel of his boot and stalked across the schoolyard, past the slightly distorted trees and out onto the slippery sidewalk with a palette of mud, grass and gravel. The streets of Domino were darkened, with very few cars running on it–and those that were ended up splashing innocent onlookers with breaks of water. Like the vegetation on the other side of the school's fence, Seto's mood was seriously dampened.
There were some shuffling on the other end of the receiver, and there was a crackling before his secretaries voice. "It seems he has found something pertaining to Duel Monsters inside a Pyramid at Giza. He says he would like to set up an appointment with you to discuss what he found and possible increases of both companies. What would you like me to tell him?"
Seto wanted dearly to say: "Tell him to go jump off a bridge," but with the possibility of an increase in his company's share, who could resist? "Schedule an appointment with him on a day that I have very little going on. If he has anything else to say, tell him to contact me personally."
"Yes, Kaiba-sama." There was the sound of a keyboard clicking. "Are you coming into work today, Kaiba-sama?"
He thought about it. Seto knew he should. He hadn't been into Kaiba Corporation for the past few days, but right now he felt funny. Somewhat lightheaded and a bit nauseous. "No, I will not. Take all my messages for me and pass them along directly to my computer at home."
"Very well, sir. Have a nice day."
Kaiba snapped his cell phone back into his pocket, hitting the red "off" button as he went. Once the small device was nestled safely into the convenient hole in his school jacket, Seto wiped his eyes, ridding them of obstructing rain and began to pace back and forth, waiting for his driver.
He had only taken a few steps when a small piece of paper slipped out of his pocket and whispered to the ground, hitting the wet pavement with a small plip. Seto Kaiba crunched it before he knew what was happening, and the picture Jou drew was ruined, stained in mud, soaked through with rain and wrinkled beyond recognition, with nothing but a solitary footprint to lead a person to the murder of the beautiful drawing
Seto didn't notice. The soft crunching sounded like the petals of a flower opening to him. He was so preoccupied with the thought of Pegasus and the finding for Duel Monsters that all other thoughts took a backseat. It was only when his chauffeur pulled up did he finally realize he stepped on something.
Of course, seeing as how he was pacing in front of a school, one would come to expect to trod upon some poor saps homework. So, passing it off as such, Seto hopped into the open door of his limo and was whisked away without another thought.
On the ground, the paper fluttered in the wind, one corner turning up, followed by the other three in the same fashion until the sorry mass of mud and water was airborne in the still wind, hovering after Seto Kaiba's limo, like a butterfly coasting in a thermal; dancing in the breeze. When it got close enough, an extra burst of air propelled the paper forward so it clung to the rear tail light of the decent sized limo.
Everyone was none the wiser.
–
The warm water felt heavenly divine running down his body, hitting a few more sensitive spots than the rain had. Jou relaxed against the cold tile of the nook reserved for the shower, letting his back absorb the cold and then gradually warm up with the waterfall of gentle caresses from the showerhead. He sighed, brushing his long locks out of his face with one hand, reaching for the bottle of shampoo with the other.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Jou had on only a towel gently hung around his waist when he stepped out of the bathroom, another fluffy length of cotton was tangled in his goldenrod hair, trying to get it dry. His broad chest was dripping with water droplets, reflecting the flourescent lights beaming down from his hallway ceiling.
He felt utterly refreshed; his body was radiating the heat from the relaxing shower in small waves as the warmth collided with the cold. Goosebumps rose on his flesh as he got dressed, loving the feel of cotton pajama pants against his skin. Throwing his fluffy, white towel to the floor, Jou stretched.
A clatter from the kitchen scattered Jou's attention from his shirt to the front of the house. It sounded like someone dropping the fruit bowl that always sat so placidly on the counter with the microwave. Curiosity getting the better of him, Jou let the white shirt in his hand flop to the cleanly carpeted floor and he walked out into the hallway.
The hallway was clear, as lonesome as it had ever been. However, there was an intimation of movement in the front of the house–not much, just a distortion of the wavelengths in the air.
"Hello?" Jou called. If it was his dad, he would answer, and the blonde would continue dressing. If it wasn't...
There was no answer, and Jou raised a slender eyebrow. He started walking down the dimly lit hallway, nearly on tip-toe for fear of alerting whoever was in the kitchen. He stepped over the line that separated the hallway from the living because it creaked, loudly, and Jou was started to hear more noises in the kitchen. They were mostly banging, like someone was having an issue with the pots and pans. There was the occasional thump of something hitting the floor. Something hard...and metallic.
Jou's sopping wet school jacket still hung on the hook by the door. It was still damp and darkened in some places, and droplets still hit the rug from the white cuffs of his sleeves. His black tennis shoes had been displaced. The blonde was sure they were sitting by his fathers blue slippers when he walked in. Now they were sitting by the table with the vase of flowers, on the other side of the doorway.
Something growled within the contours of the echoing kitchen. It reverberated from one white wall to the other and then bounced into Jou's ears, making him shudder. A stripe of yellow passed over his back and for a millisecond, he contemplated running. What if the place was haunted? Spooks scared the blonde.
Taking a quiet breath, Jou forced himself to calm down. There was no such thing as ghosts! Now get your ass in there and get whoever is in the kitchen!
Bare shoulders thrown back, Jou lifted his head and strode into the kitchen before his steely resolved could rust. His bare feet slapped the tile of the kitchen loudly as he fixed the culprit with a dark amber stare.
There was nothing there. The purple plastic bowl of fresh fruit was strewn on the floor–to be sure, and the cabinet for the pots and pans was open, but there was absolutely nothing in the kitchen. The white topped counters were dimmed with the lack of light, the various appliances were still scrubbed clean and in their proper places. The dishwasher was closed; the rest of the cabinets were closed and...
...and there was something in the sink.
Gulping down a wad of saliva that had decided to coagulate in the back of his throat, Jou took the two leaping steps towards the sink and almost threw himself in with the force of looking over from a distance; only his carelessly positioned arms on either side of the silver basin prevented him from falling face-first into a wad of fur.
"What in the hell...?"
Delicate mouth turned down in a frown, Jou plucked the small bundle of black up from the sink. He turned it around to face him by the scruff of it's neck.
Innocent, yet bashful, green eyes gazed at him with a shimmer of fear. The kitten's forepaws were pressed together, as an abused sidekick might wring his hands when his master was angry. The silky fur was wrinkled at the shoulders where it was hunched up, as if Jou's touch burned it. Granted, the strength of the blonde's grip might've been hurting it, but the kitten seemed to be glaring at something behind Jou.
Just to check, Jounouchi whipped his head around fast, spraying the black kitten with droplets from his shower. There was nothing behind him. Suspiciously, Jou put the kitten down on the counter and crouched until he was eye level with the feline.
"How'd you get in?" he asked, as if the cat would answer. Given the circumstances of how it got in, the blonde wouldn't have been surprised if the thing opened it's maw and sung a ballad.
Suddenly, there came a noise behind Jou. A light footfall, nothing more, but enough to grab his attention. Heart thudding against his ribcage so loud that he could hear it throughout the apartment, Jou pivoted in place, trying to prepare himself for what might come.
There was nothing there but the sighing of air. Jou's stomach was fluttering now–shuddering to the point of nausea.
A kitten behind him on the counter was hissing now, small, yet pointy teeth bared to their fullest. It was crouched on it's haunches, so the soaking furball that didn't look all that intimidating.
Jou turned back, but as he did, a breath of cold air washed over him and froze his skin. It felt like he had been thrown out into a bank of snow in his birthday suit. Even his hair stood on end. Jou could hear a silent wind in the air, like somebody trying to breathe through a tube.
The kitten on the counter lost it. It took off from it's perch on the clean platform and latched onto Jou's bare chest, sinking its sharp claws into the cold, sensitive skin. Little drops of blood immediately began to seep out. The kitten skittered up his chest to his shoulder, using its claws to find the balance to work it's way up. The small black feline went all over Jou's body like a squirrel, chasing something that wasn't there, leaving gashes, scratches and puncture wounds wherever it touched. And the worst part? Jou couldn't move. He felt the pain of the cat digging into his skin, biting every now and then, but he couldn't open his mouth–he couldn't blink, twitch, break away and run.
This crazy cats gonna carve me up like a turkey! Was the horrid realization. Inside, his stomach heaved and hoed, wanting to shake this feeling of dread, to run away and jump in a fire. To rid himself of this inane animal that was carving up his already sculpted body and to cast of the blanket of ice that had been unceremoniously thrown against him.
And then, it was all gone. Jou was warm again and the cat was sitting on the floor licking its white paws in a contended manner. It looked up at the mauled Jou with eyes that said: 'what? I just saved your butt kid, don't give me that look.' It purred.
Jou's chest heaved with air, forcing his lungs to work to make his brain go...to make him run! This is insane! his brain screamed. A million thoughts per second poured into his consciousness.
Run!
Kill it!
Faint!
Throw it out!
Jump out the window!
Eat a banana!
No, an orange!
Banana!
Orange!
Oh, for Chrissakes!
Jou didn't have to think twice. Streaking through the kitchen in bare feet, skidding around the corner (just in time to avoid the sharp end that could have conveniently shattered his hip-bone), the blonde snapped up his still-damp jacket, threw open the door and dashed down the hall with one destination in mind: The Kame Turtle Shop.
-
Sugoroku Motou was dusting off the case housing a few of his own special Duel Monsters cards when the summons at the door came. Sugoroku was Yuugi Motou's grandfather of seventy-two long years. He was short, extremely stout, with a mop of silver hair that resembled Yuugi's almost perfectly. Passerby on the streets often wondered what type of hair gel the grandfather and grandson used, and where they could buy a bottle.
Yuugi's grandpa only had to cast a sidelong glance at the glass door to know who it was. Only Katsuya Jounouchi would come to the door and pound so hard. It sounded almost like a knock of desperation.
"Alright, I'm coming, Jounouchi. Tell the Chainsaw Killer to hold his horses." The old man chuckled at his own joke. He undid the chain at the door, not bothering to pay attention to the fact that Yuugi's best friend was shirtless, shoeless, and bleeding. "Well, what brings you here...so...early...Jounouchi! Are you alright? Come in, come in. Oh, dear. Let me get you some bandages!" the elderly man finally noticed Jou's wounds, pale face and sweating body.
Knees weak, arms heavy and chest heaving again, Jou staggered into the shop, hoping that his legs would hold him as Grandpa Moutou bustled off to the back of the shop where the bathroom was located. Ice would feel good on his sweat-dripping body. On the back counter, by the cash register, was a box of tissues. Leaning heavily against the glass case that contained a variety of board games, card games and little figurines, Jou pushed a shuddering hand to the square of tissue poking up from the red and white box (that proudly sported: Kleenex on the side) and ripped it from it's hold, pressing it to a particularly deep gash on his forehead.
"Here you are Jounouchi. Let me get Yuugi..." Grandpa returned with a armful of band-aids, ace bandages, gauze pads, lengths of cloth bandages, cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. "Yuugi! Yami! Jou's here!" he yelled up the steps to his grandson's room. "Come on, Jounouchi. Let's get you in a chair."
Still holding the tissue to his forehead (which was now sticky with drying blood), Jou followed Grandpa Motou through the door of the shop and back into a brightly-lit kitchen. Letting his load drop on the round table that stood proudly in the middle of the clean, white kitchen, Grandpa pulled a chair out for the injured blonde to sit on.
"Let's get you cleaned up..." he muttered, opening the tall, clear bottle of rubbing alcohol. When the first cotton ball touched the side of his face, Jou flinched away. Yuugi's grandpa leaned in closer and inspected the face of the blonde. "You've got something of a black eye there, Jou. I'll get you a pack of ice."
The thundering steps of Yuugi and Yami could be heard even through the small haze of pain that was now settling itself quite comfortably into Jou's nervous system.
"Jou?" Yuugi called, jumping off the last step onto the hardwood floor that lead into the kitchen. Yami was right behind him.
"Hey, Yuug'..." the small teenager looked around, wondering why Jou sounded so despaired. He finally settled onto the blonde duelist receiving medical attention from his grandpa.
"Jou! What happened?" while Yuugi bounded over to the table to interrogate his best friend, Yami leaned casually against the door to the kitchen. Something wasn't right here. Jou's body and cuts reeked of a familiar demonic presence. His mind felt exhausted as well; Yami could feel the solid block of pressure that was Jou's fatigue spread throughout the whole room.
Grandpa Motou finished bandaging Jou's chest and left the boys alone, dragging his medical supplies with him. His overalls had uncuffed at the ankles in the rush (they had gotten caught on the radiator in the hallway) of seeing to Jounouchi's wounds. The seventy-two year old passed Yami in the doorway and the two shared a look of understanding; purple connecting with red wine.
Jou's eye twitched at the stinging of his scratches. The usually bright amber iris was darkened with the pain and he felt stiff in the bandaging that criss-crossed his chest and arms and the band-aids that were stuck to his face and the ice on his eye was felt like it was freezing his brain.
Yuugi sat in a chair across from his blonde friend, feet not even close to touching the floor. His large, violet eyes started into Jou's own, expectantly. Yami crossed the room and stood behind his hikari, waiting for the other duelists' story. He too, was curious.
"Well...don't laugh, but this is what happened..."
When Jou's story was finished, Yuugi looked back at Yami, their eyes holding the same amount of perplexity. They didn't know whether to laugh at the fact a cat had almost dissected Jou, offer to have an exorcism performed or say 'good one, Jounouchi,' and continue with their lives.
"Are you sure that's all that happened?" Yami finally asked, for which Yuugi was grateful. The shorter one wasn't sure if what he wanted to say would come across right to Jounouchi–Yuugi didn't want to be insulting.
"Yeah, I'm sure."
Yami gazed at Jou steadily, trying to probe with his mind into the recesses of Jou's anxiety, making sure that the recount was accounted for.
"Do you want us to go back to your house and check things out?" Yuugi asked, sitting on the edge of his chair, ready to rush to the other side of town. The duelist was truly concerned for his best friend, especially since the proof of it all was seeping through the bandages. Yuugi looked back at Yami, and was startled to see comprehension dawn in those captivating red eyes, and immediately began wondering what the pharaoh was thinking (he could have easily accessed their silver connection easily, but felt it would be inappropriate for the time).
"You know what I think, Jounouchi?" Yami tapped the edge of his jaw with a slender finger, coming around to the other side of the round table to pull himself up a chair. An idea was indeed forming in his head.
Jounouchi looked up sharply, accidentally putting too much pressure on his eye with the ice pack. Yami would probably know–and be right about it.
"I think something was trying to possess you."
-
Author's Notes: There ya go! A whopping nine pages of enjoyment. I'm terribly sorry for not getting this out earlier, but...yeah. Thanks to anyone who reviewed and thank you all for being patient. Yes, things are moving a bit slow, but it all has a purpose! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!