First I want to apologize for the 6 year hiatus. This chapter, strangely enough, has been a little over halfway complete since late 2003, but for some reason, (as with most of my fics) I was really stuck with this particular one. In fact, if I could redo this whole fic, I'd do a lot of things differently; in particular make the characters older. But in honor of my younger self, and for all you readers who have stuck with this fic throughout the years, I've decided to just let the fic stay as I'd originally planned it. Thank you all for your support and kind words of encouragement, and I will endeavor to work on this fic until it is complete. ^^

The man was stiff and formal,
Just like his ice cold smile.
He watched the children run and play,
He watched them for a while.

He finally spotted one boy,
so distant and alone,
doing his favorite past-time,
playing a game all on his own.

The man approached the little boy and asked him for a game.
"If you defeat me in a match, I'll give you my last name."
The man was easily beaten. The boy impressed him so,
he told the child to get his things, "it's time for us to go.."

"You'll have all you ever wanted; good food and lots of toys,
loyal servants at your beck and call, you'll be the RICHEST boy."

…but that wasn't what he wanted; not nearly, not at all.
The thing he wanted most in life would never come to call.
That part of life had left him, new chapters had begun.
And as the boy stepped in the car, he couldn't feel the sun.
The windows all were tinted, the colors black and bold--

He didn't realize on that day that he had sold his soul.

o

He dreamt of Egypt.

Of that ancient golden paradise from long ago. Not the slum filled pit it was today, but the Egypt from millennia ago, when it's Gods were still Gods, and it's Temples still beautiful and sacred. The brustle of traders, the dry stale heat, the merciless sun, and the faint, heady scent of incense and sweat…

o

It started off perfectly normal, the day Seto's life began to change.

It was on a Friday, his least favorite day of the week. In fact, if Seto had known the repercussions of what this particular Friday would bring, he probably would have stayed in bed.

Well, maybe not.

Seto Kaiba was not one to run away from anything; especially something as ridiculously unreal as fate. He glared, at nothing in particular. But there was something he felt he'd forgotten. Something he was supposed to remember, or thought he ought to, anyway.

Seto Kaiba hated not being able to recall something.

And so his normal Friday morning turned sour, and he spent most of the morning snapping at the maids, who for some reason seemed even more silly and ill suited than normal for their jobs, so that by the time his limo pulled up to the school entrance, he was thoroughly exasperated with the world in general.

The classroom was already partially filled with students clustered in groups around desks, watching mock duel matches. He didn't even bother to glance over. Their matches were so trivial, so…childishly amateur that he had no interest in them whatsoever. Not a world champion duelist like himself, anyway.

Almost without his realizing, his eyes slid across the room. To her desk.

It was empty.

His face contorted into a scowl. Of course it was empty. She hadn't been in very good shape yesterday, after all. It should come as no surprise that she wasn't in school today. Actually he didn't expect to see her again. Not at work anyway.

Work.

It brought back a surge of sudden images that played within his mind. He remembered the precise moment she fell. The look on her face right before she fell. It was a look of absolute terror. And something else. Something, as she'd stared up at the dragons, that looked akin to revulsion.

But even stranger, as he had stood there watching, morbidly fascinated by that trembling figure, something clicked. Some realization, some eerie sense of déjà vu. As though he had experienced a similar scene before somehow-

Damned girl!

It was something he hadn't prepared for, her falling, and he'd found himself cursing when she'd pitched suddenly backwards and off the lift. He'd acted fast; Seto Kaiba was not one to lose his cool upon the unexpected. Did the only thing he could do.

He'd caught her.

Opened his arms, spread his legs, and steeled himself as much as he could for the impact…

He was brought back to the present by the scrape of chairs against linoleum. The bell had rung, and students were making a mad dash to get to their seats before the instructor entered.

And that's when he felt it. The raise of the hair at the back of his neck, a chill that brought something like a sprinkling of goose bumps along his skin. It was the first of many occasions he would come to recognize in the future. He turned, without knowing exactly why, and glanced casually over his shoulders in the direction behind him.

And straight into the eyes of one Ryou Bakura. Only now the eyes were less fatuous, less…childish and dreamy than usual. The normally wide eyes were narrowed, slightly thoughtful.

Seto glared, fully expecting those doe-ish brown eyes to shy away-

They didn't.

They changed. No longer did they resemble something out of a Disney cartoon. Now they were different. Now something flashed within them, something dark and-

A girl dashed in front of him, plopping in a seat and effectively hiding the platinum blond from view.

And he felt as though he had been released from some suffocating hold. The icy pin-pricks vanished from his neck, just as the instructor entered, casting a disapproving glare around at the decidedly angelic students.

What the hell…?

But the students were rising and there was no time to dwell on it as Seto pushed back his chair and stood with the rest of the class. Minutes later they were being dismissed to first period, and he pushed the incident from his mind. He had better things to do than to dwell on weird, foreign, freaks with unkempt hair. Both of them.

Both foreign, he thought. Foreign.

Interesting that they should get two foreigners, both from English speaking countries in the same classroom. Usually the administration tried to distribute foreign exchange students and transfers evenly about, so that every classroom had the chance to experience the different cultures. Assigning two students from English speaking countries to the same homeroom was quite the coincidence, he thought absently. Moreover, having two students transfer mid-year, as they had, was odd unto itself. He grabbed his bag, turned with military precision and marched swiftly out the door.

The remainder of the day passed quickly.

Once again he found himself drifting, his mind slipping unwarranted back to that afternoon, back to…to-

The girl in his arms.

To that wild mop of curls thrown in his face, in his eyes so that momentarily he'd been blinded. And the impact. The abruptness of her fall hadn't given him much, if any time to brace himself, and her bulleting form had barreled into him, knocking the wind out of him and sending them both crashing to the hard tiled floor. They'd stayed like that for an eternity it seemed, with him trying to regain the breath and feeling to his body. The sudden impact with the ground had momentarily stunned him as he had taken the brunt of the fall. And the girl lying atop him wasn't helping either. She had been dead weight, unmoving- he hadn't even been sure if she were breathing.

Great…

With some difficulty he had hauled himself to a sitting position. The girl slid limply to his lap. There was a sharp pain in his left shoulder, which had been the first to strike the floor upon their fall. In fact, his entire left side had been throbbing.

Shit. Just what I need...

With a dark glower he'd turned to the girl-

And immediately frowned.

He'd thought her unconscious- she had been silent for so long and unmoving- but her eyes were wide open and staring straight back up at him.

No, not at him, he'd realized with mild trepidation,through him. As if he wasn't even there. The normally bright eyes had been dull and glassy, and the fear that had danced inside of them not even moments before was now gone, replaced by-

Nothing.

It was as if she had been an empty doll, void of emotions. The complete opposite of what she had been earlier that day in class—

Before he knew it, the school day was over, though what the instructors had said, what lessons they'd taught, completely escaped him. He gave a sharp curse of irritation. He hated not being alert. What was wrong with him today? The past seven hours had gone to hell in a hand basket, but at least it was almost over. All too soon he was in his office, behind the beautiful redwood desk that had once belonged to his late adopted father. If nothing else, the man had had good taste. Actually, the desk was one of the very few things he'd decided to keep of the old man's, with its smooth and glossy finish. Sometimes he would gaze down into that deep red wood, gaze at the reflection that stared stonily back. Each item on it was strategically placed, from the carefully positioned fountain pen, to the black stapler placed horizontally from the edge of his desk. Even the telephone, which he was currently using to speak with his lawyer, sat neatly to his left. Apparently some upstart company was attempting to create their own version of his dueling arena, and he wanted the generic project stopped.

"I don't care what you have to do!," he raged furiously into the phone, "Anything necessary…just get it stopped! This is the sort of thing I pay you for, isn't it? So then do your job. There are copyright infringement rules that prohibit-" he stopped, eyes narrowed. And then,

"I'll call you back, Kenji." He hung up. Stared expectantly towards the doorway to the person who had only halfway entered.

She actually looked professional today, he mused. Black pencil skirt, bleached white blouse, and a pair of low heeled shoes that were faintly glossed. But then again she hadn't been in school today. She would of course have time to change her cloths, to arrive without looking winded and red-faced. Though, he noted, staring with distaste at that mop of unruly hair, she could have done something more; perhaps run a brush through it or something. He liked for things to be straight and orderly, not wild and…curly. And there was something about her expression that he didn't like. Something distinctly childlike and vulnerable that was acutely distinguishable from others. Seeing her as such, it was quite obvious she wasn't from this cut-throat world of business. He frowned.

There was a pregnant pause as he silently assessed her. Was she nervous? Wondering perhaps if he would fire her? Truthfully he didn't know what he'd do. She'd surprised him in even showing up, honestly, and he had assumed he had seen the last of her. He frowned, at an uncharacteristic loss.

"You're early." He said finally. Hn. For once. The clock on his desk read 3:54.

"I know," she replied simply, and he couldn't gauge anything from that answer. It was merely spoken, not said in any particular manner. His frown deepened. Something was different about her, but he had no idea what.

"I'm not letting you on my clock until four exactly."

"Did you want me to wait outside?" this was said quietly, softly, without any undertone of emotion, and the snarky reply he'd had ready, the "why don't you go home and not come back", dissipated as he finally spotted what was so different.

He had yet to see her eyes.

Her body was facing him, her head even, but her eyes were turned, attention focused on the wall to the far left. He hadn't realized her eyes were so…telling. Without looking into them, he was unable to read her, and her expression was so guarded that it revealed nothing. But, it wasn't just her eyes, though they added a great deal. There was something else, something he couldn't put his finger on-

He straightened in his chair.

"I see you decided to actually look presentable today," he commented finally. She didn't reply. "This," Seto continued, "is what I expect to see when you walk into my office. Not the school girl. This is a place of business, not a classroom. I won't tolerate inappropriate attire. Do you understand, Ms. Epps?"

"Yes, Mr. Kaiba."

He narrowed his eyes in sudden realization. He knew now what was wrong with her, the expressionless look on her face, the emotionless answer. He knew that expression, knew it all too well—

She was broken.

The word almost seemed foreign in context to this girl, this weird foreigner who'd seemed so excited about….about what exactly? He still didn't know. Or maybe it wasn't anything specific at all, a voice reasoned inside him. Maybe…probably it was something as simple as the sensation of living? HA! It was laughable, that. And it made no sense…no sense at all! He had no idea where the idea had even come from. Perhaps some ghostly recollection of the days when he himself had felt that feeling. Back during a time before-

He glared across the desk at the girl. Damn her for making him remember! How dare she dredge up those memories? How dare she? His eyes hardened; his hands clutched into fists. He wanted her out of his sight, saying the first thing that came to his mind and sending her hurrying away.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Most of the time she was out, making copies, faxing, shredding, delivery this or that to a person. He sent her on menial tasks, not really even caring if she got them done. As long as she was away from him, as long as he didn't have to look at her… He knew it wasn't solving the problem. He'd have to deal with her eventually. He'd fire her the next time she came in, he told himself. He didn't want to look into that face, to be reminded of his past of that time before the orphanage.

But every time she appeared, every time she picked up a stack of papers to fax or deliver to the mail room, he found his mouth sealed shut, simply watching. Neither of them made any mention of what had happened the previous day. They didn't speak, beyond the curtly given instructions he gave. It was an unspoken agreement between them; a sort of 'I won't mention it if you won't.' But it hung in the air between them, thick and brooding. Once, when she'd come in to gather more papers from his desk, he'd thought he'd felt her watching him. But when he'd glanced up from his computer, she was already shuffling away, out the door.

At 7:15 he sent her away, on a break. She left the room without a word.

She returned at 7:43, face flushed and hair windblown, looking for all the world as though she had run the whole way there. He wondered what sort of transportation, if any, she used. Sometime around 10:30 it started to rain, and by 11:03 it had become a steady shower. It trickled down the Stetson windows behind him, making the room sparkle like a champagne glass. The streets below were quiet, and most of the workers had already left. She still hadn't spoken though, and he wondered if she was aware of the time.

It was 11:17 when he decided to let her go. She stood slowly, replacing the files in their designated drawers and grabbing her coat.

"I'll probably have your check printed tomorrow, so be here at 8am if you want it." It was an afterthought for him, something he had barely given thought to, but the girl stopped in her tracks, turning back to him with a frozen expression.

"..check?" it was the first word she'd spoken in hours. Her throat sounded hoarse. She stared blankly back at him from the door. He continued to type, annoyed, not bothering to look up.

"Normally the employees are paid bi-weekly, via direct deposit, but since you started during the odd week and don't yet have a bank, you'll be paid by check this one time. Is there a problem?" His tone suggested he could care less if there was.

"No- I…just wasn't expecting to be paid so…soon." Her voice didn't sound quite so empty anymore, but the prospect of money did that to anyone. He felt a smug sort of satisfaction knowing that even she wasn't immune to its power.

"Don't get used to it," he retorted sharply. "And get the hell out of my office. You're off the clock."

The door clicked shut. Moments later he heard the hum of the elevator and then silence.

At 11:35 he decided to leave. He had to be back in six hours for the beta testing of his newest prototype, and after that, there was no telling what time he'd be able to get back home. So after calling his driver, he shut down his computer, slipped into his coat, grabbed his briefcase, and locked the door.

He was in the lobby when he saw the figure out front. Silhouetted against the shine of the streetlight, she looked even smaller and more pathetic than he'd remembered.

The image of her falling, of her empty, sobbing form, came once again to the forefront of his mind.

But by the time he reached the front doors, the figure was gone.

O

A/N: I hope this chapter was worth the wait. One of the things I hate the most is when an author has an unexpected lapse in updates (like me…) and then when they DO pick up on the story, the chapter is anti-climatic and relatively dull. It drives me NUTS, though I know it can't be helped, as transitional chapters are NEEDED to make the story flow properly. It can't all be excitement and drama. In the mean time, expect to see more of Ryou in the coming chapters, and perhaps more of Nadia's family, as not much has been said in regards to it.

On another note, I hope you guys will check out my profile page. (I've got some news on there!) I also wanted you all to know that I'll be starting a new Seto fic in the near future, although this one will feature a considerably older Seto. (I'm thinking around 25 or so) I hope you guys will read it, though I certainly won't be neglecting this fic, either. The idea actually came to me WHILE I was working on this fic.

Please review and tell me what you think! I always love to hear your thoughts!