Chapter Four

Yugi moped as he turned the pages of his sketch book two days later. He was bored. Dr. Karasu had already stopped by once today, but he'd been in a hurry to get to his office and hadn't been able to chat. Mokuba had classes to attend. Presumably, Kaiba was at work. Yugi never watched much television in the first place, and turning the tv on for only a couple of minutes had confirmed that daytime programming was dreadful. There were images swimming before his mind's eye that he wanted to sketch, but...

He closed the book with a sigh, and held his hands, palms up, in front of him. The right one was still a shapeless mass of white gauze. The left appeared mostly like a hand again. Dr. Karasu had deemed it healed enough to not require the complete, swaddling immobility of his right. Instead, a substantial dressing crossed his palm but left his thumb and fingers free. Yugi's relief at being free from the catheter and thus, the bed, had been immense. The doctor had thoughtfully provided several large gloves Yugi could slip on over his left hand, bandages and all, when he had to respond to calls of nature. He'd also recommended some light stretching exercises to keep the scar tissue from healing too tightly and limiting Yugi's flexibility. Yugi ran a series of these exercises absently before opening his sketch book, again.

"Hmmm." Yugi hopped off the bed, padded across the room, and plopped his book down on the desk. He noticed a cup holding several writing instruments, and reached with his useless right hand for a tempting pencil before sighing and grasping it with his left.

Several minutes later, a page was full of scribbles that made Yugi wince, as they bore little resemblance to the sleek, lethal beauty of the eerily floating blades of his drug-toned dreams. He was certain they would jog his memory when he was able to draw again with his handed hand, and for now, that sufficed. He bent diligently to his task, using his non-preferred left hand to scribble other images across many pages of his sketch book.

"What's that?" a cheerful voice by his elbow startled him some time later. Yugi whipped his head around to notice Mokuba leaning over the desk and staring at the drawing he'd just finished. "It looks like a opossum getting run over."

Yugi snickered. "Almost. That's Kuriboh. He's a weak monster, but he blows up on contact with other monsters."

"Cool!" Mokuba exclaimed. "But, it's kinda not as good as the drawings you did before," Mokuba colored. "Oh, your hand is hurt, that's why."

Yugi put the pencil down and realized his hand was aching a little. He rubbed his palm lightly against his knee, and absently ran through the hand exercises to ease the ache. "Yeah, a little, but it's mostly because I'm right-handed." He held up his white-wrapped club of a right hand. "Hopefully, these scribbles will remind me of what I was trying to draw when my hands are better."

"Yugi..." Mokuba's eyes were troubled. Yugi smiled, recognizing in himself the urge to turn aside the apology the same way Kaiba had avoided his apology a couple of days ago. "I'm sorry you got hurt."

"It's not your fault," Yugi said.

"But--"

"For whatever reason, it was important that I help you, otherwise, I wouldn't have had the visions you were in trouble." Quite unlike his brother, Mokuba was willing to accept that Yugi had visions, so he nodded.

"But, why? Why would you have visions about me?"

Yugi reached out and patted Mokuba's shoulder with his well-padded right hand. "Because you needed help," he replied simply. "Who knows? Maybe we were destined to become friends."

A snort surprised both of them. They turned as one and looked at the doorway where Kaiba leaned against the door jam. His arms were crossed and a faint scowl darkened his expression. "Stop filling Mokuba's head with that nonsense."

"It's not..." Mokuba began.

"Homework. Now." Kaiba commanded. Wearing a scowl of his own, Mokuba responded to the icy command of Kaiba's tone of voice. Before he dragged himself with obvious reluctance through the door, he turned and smiled at Yugi.

"Whatever the reason, I'm glad you found me, and that we are friends!" Mokuba declared brightly, before darting away at Kaiba's start of surprise. Yugi couldn't completely suppress his laugh at Mokuba's impishness.

Kaiba rolled his eyes and stalked fully into the room. Yugi's heart thumped painfully until he managed to awkwardly close the cover of his sketchbook over his scribblings. The last thing he needed was Kaiba's acid comments about...

Completely ignoring the sketch book and Yugi's panic about it, Kaiba cleared his throat. "I would appreciate it if you would not talk about anything dealing with how you came to know that Mokuba was in trouble."

"It's not nonsense," Yugi protested. Kaiba just stared at him. "Fine. I won't mention it." Because he was looking for it, Yugi noticed the easing in Kaiba's bearing with his acquiescence.

"Is there any reason you spent the whole day in the infirmary? Dr. K. tells me you are free to 'wander about', now," Kaiba asked. Yugi inferred from the frown on Kaiba's face that he hadn't been aware of why Yugi had been stuck in the infirmary until Dr. Karasu had told him about it.

"I--I wasn't sure where I could go... That is where I was permitted..."

Kaiba sighed. "You're a guest, Mutou. Except for the private quarters, you can wander wherever you want in the mansion."

It would have been nice if Kaiba'd told me that earlier, Yugi thought sourly.

"Let me get out of this straight-jacket and handle a few things that have come up, and I'll give you the grand tour," Kaiba offered suddenly. He did appear more daunting than usual in a severely conservative business suit.

"I hate the ties most of all," Yugi offered. "Like I'm slowly strangling all day long!"

"And they serve no useful purpose," Kaiba unexpectedly agreed.

Yugi grinned at him. "So, loosen it already!"

Kaiba blinked at him before he did just that. Yugi waved a theatrically imperious hand. "Go, change. You know where to find me." Kaiba snorted, and nearly smiled before remembering himself, singeing Yugi lightly with a half-hearted glared instead, and leaving the room.

Man, is he ever wound tight! Yugi thought to himself as he put his sketch book away. He spent a few futile minutes fighting to pull a comb through his hair with his left hand before giving it up as a lost cause. His hair had grown into an unruly mess. The strange henna tone that was his current favorite color was made all the more striking with the bleached blond bangs he'd adopted in solidarity with one of his work friends after she'd been reamed for an unorthodox hairstyle. His hair had always been a completely unmanageable texture, thanks in large part to the exuberant genes of his grandfather's side of the family -- if his grandfather's appearance was any indication. Yugi normally gelled his hair into submission, but that wasn't an option with only half of one hand working.

To Yugi's faint relief, both Kaiba brothers appeared at the door of his room for his 'grand tour' of the mansion. It really was a mansion, even boasting a small, but complete, secondary kitchen on the third floor, large, somewhat impersonal rooms that reminded Yugi of conference rooms at work, a jaw-droppingly amazing game room, and several media rooms that were better stocked than the video rental store Yugi went out of his way to be a member of.

"Tristan would give his eyeteeth to see this," Yugi muttered upon seeing the main library.

"Tristan?" Mokuba asked.

"Tristan Taylor. He was our classmate... Uh, that is he was in the same grade I was," Yugi finished, at Kaiba's sudden glare.

"Didn't Taylor beat you up in first year?" Kaiba asked. Yugi bristled. Yeah, way to go, remind me of unpleasant things best left in the past, you insensitive jerk! "Yes, but we are friends, now. I prefer not to think of..."

Mokuba's hand crept into his left one. Only then did Yugi realize he'd been trying to make a fist with it. He glanced at Mokuba's face and caught a conspiratorial wink. "Seto won't let anyone beat you up again, will you big brother?" Mokuba's tone was high, light, and just shy of wheedling. Yugi carefully plastered one of Kaiba's own nearly scowling, neutral expressions on his face before Kaiba could catch his grin at Mokuba's impudence.

"Hmph."

"Since you saved me, and are my friend, and all," Mokuba continued disingenuously. Kaiba growled and stalked toward the door, but Mokuba's happy smile and quick, gentle squeeze told Yugi that's what Mokuba expected.

"There's one more room in this wing..." Kaiba's voice floated back toward them as he strode impatiently down the hallway.

"Ah!" Mokuba exclaimed before his voice dropped into a low tone just above a whisper. "I don't think he meant to show you this room." Mokuba grinned. "He really likes you, Yugi! Don't let his grumbly ways make you think otherwise!" And, with this advice, Mokuba abandoned Yugi's hand and raced down the hallway after his brother to lean heavily into his side, rather blatantly trying to force Kaiba to veer and crash into the wall. Kaiba reached over and tousled his little brother's hair.

"You did that on purpose!"

"Yup," Mokuba grinned up at him. "It's a cool room, Yugi should get to see it." Kaiba stared down at him for a long moment.

"Whatever."

Still, as Yugi approached, Kaiba stared at him almost as if he were still weighing the decision. Finally, he opened the door and gestured Yugi to precede him with ironic courtesy.

Dragons. Dragons everywhere -- swooping from the ceiling on nearly-invisible wire, twisting around the legs of an overstuffed chair, peeking over the tops of books on bookcases, embossed upon the spines of those books, gathering in multi-toned flights of color in several subtly-lit display cases...

"Wow!" Yugi noticed an impressively large and intricately carved dragon fashioned from jade near his ankle. It was apparent from its pose and position that it was guarding the entryway from unwanted intrusions. "This is amazing!"

Per usual, Kaiba didn't smile at Yugi's earnest compliment, but the expression in his eyes lightened at Yugi's obvious admiration.

"Can you tell that big brother kinda-sorta likes dragons?" Mokuba teased.

"I do, too," Yugi claimed. "Haven't I shown you my Darkfire Dragon yet? Oh!" He clapped his hands over his mouth.

Kaiba affected not to have heard, electing to walk toward one of the furthest display cases and lean over to peer more closely at the ceramic dragons gathered within.

"Show me later," Mokuba whispered. "Let me show you the dragon Seto named for me.," he finished aloud.

Yugi followed Mokuba to a display case on the other side of the room. Mokuba pointed out a diminutive dragon, made of lapis lazuli. The dragon had been skillfully carved in a flattened, but fierce pose, sort of like how a cat appears when scared but willing to fight. In front of the little blue dragon, not hovering, but certainly set in a position meant to shield, a white stone dragon spread its wings. It appeared to be stretching forth its neck forever uttering a bugling cry of defiance into the face of a massive, but ill-formed, dully gleaming nearly dragon-shaped lump. Yugi leaned forward, to look more closely at the detail of the two larger dragons. The white stone one had a rather distinctively undragonlike-shape to its head, and two small but perfectly faceted sapphires for eyes. The menacing, tarnished dragon bore evilly gleaming rubies for its eyes. The powerful vignette unsettled Yugi deeply, and he had no idea why.

"The white dragon is carved from a single piece of alabaster, and his enemy is shaped from pyrite -- fool's gold," Kaiba's dry voice behind him made Yugi jump.

"Your dragon makes me think of a kitten, Mokuba," Yugi said. "Very fierce, and very -- cute." Mokuba bristled. "I said fierce, too!" Yugi protested.

"It is cute," Kaiba unexpectedly jumped to Yugi's aid. "As Mokuba was when I first got it." Kaiba sighed. "Too bad he grew up to be..."

"HEY!" Mokuba protested, cutting him off. Kaiba smiled. Yugi considered dropping his jaw, but decided not to. My, my! Kaiba knows how to smile?!

"We've gawked at the dragons enough. Dinner should be ready shortly," Kaiba's stern, frosty voice was totally belied by his continued smile.

"Aw, Seto!"

"We'll eat in the small dining room. Run along and wash up for dinner."

Yugi noticed that Kaiba closed, but didn't lock, the door to his dragon room. He wondered about that, as the room was obviously very important to Kaiba, then realized there was no reason he would lock the door. He was in his own home, after all.

-- -- -- --

Yugi wanted to clear a space in front of himself, set the impressive, silver-wrought utensils safely to one side, push the elegant china plate toward the center of the table out of the danger-zone, and pound his head into the table. Or something.

Dinner this evening in the Kaiba mansion was a luxury Yugi had never had a chance to partake of before. Hamburgers were one of his favorite foods of all time -- but that was because he could afford hamburgers. The meal served to him that evening was Kobe steak, cooked in a western style and done to a doneness, if the aroma was any sort of indication. Yugi could practically taste the legendary steak with his hungry eyes -- but that was all he could do. The more-than-generous serving had been presented to him as a single slab of unmanageably out-of-reach tantalizing goodness. The sides of au gratin potatoes and green beans with slivered almonds he was able to scarf down, even using the awkward western fork in his left hand, but the steak -- that ultimate paragon of beer-fed Kobe goodness -- was utterly beyond him. There was no way, no matter how sharp the knife, he could cut it into pieces on his own with his fully bandaged right hand. Briefly he considered stabbing his fork deep into the maddenly mouth-watering steak and nibbling on the edges, as if it were some sort of beefy lollipop, but...

"Yugi, what do you think of the steak? Isn't it great?" Mokuba asked brightly. Yugi couldn't help but shoot a narrow-eyed glare of displeasure toward the tactless boy -- an action which earned him Kaiba's suddenly focused attention and a glare of his own. Kaiba dropped Yugi's frustrated gaze long enough to flick a glance down into Yugi's plate, and immediately discerned the problem. The superior, amused look Kaiba shot at him made Yugi want to punch the expression right off of Kaiba's face.

"I would never had thought you were so uselessly macho, Mutou," Kaiba said. He rose from his spot at the table, walked around to Yugi's place, snatched the fork from Yugi's left hand, picked up the knife and proceeded to cut the steak into bite-sized pieces. "When you need help, ask for it, you idiot."

Yugi fumed. It wasn't his fault his hands were injured. Well, yes, it was, but... How dare Kaiba behave like such a superior jerk -- treating him like a child, younger even than Mokuba!? Why did everyone insist on doing that to him? Ever since grade school, he had to endure such mortifying scenes. Teachers would all but put his coat on him in winter, as if his short stature made him some sort of moron who didn't have the sense to wear a coat when it was cold without prompting. I'm short, not a child, dammit! Why can't anyone see the difference?

Kaiba looked down at him with a puzzled expression in his eyes. "I don't think you're a child," he said. "You're just inordinately short."

Yugi hadn't realized he'd been driven to utter the last part of his frustrated complaint aloud. Unfortunately, Kaiba went on. "I wouldn't have thought you were susceptible to macho bullshit, though. You disappoint me, Mutou. There's nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it. Even Mokuba -- an actual child -- knows that." His task completed, Kaiba returned to his place.

"I'd rather be -- compact, like I am -- than freakishly tall -- like certain supercilious CEOs of certain companies," Yugi muttered. Kaiba's hand, halfway to his mouth with a piece of steak, froze.

Mokuba giggled. Kaiba finished taking his his bite. "Eat your steak, Mutou," he mumbled around his mouthful of food. Mokuba giggled again.

As Yugi put the first morsel of tender, savory perfection in his mouth and considered dying from total, transcendent, carnivore bliss, he could have sworn that one of Kaiba's eyelids twitched downward in what one might, if one were generous, term a wink of a conspiratorial nature.

Time enough to try to figure out stupid-Kaiba, later, Yugi's mind informed him in a severe, no-nonsense tone. Steak! S-T-E-A-K! Steakity, steak, steak, STEAK! We have steak! Nothing else is important right now!