2. Repercussions

The next day, Seto walked into school a little worse for wear. The tender flesh around his eye had ripened to a deep purplish-black, and moving was painful. But he'd be damned if he'd let anyone in school know it. He strode smoothly through the halls up to his locker as usual.

He quickly saw that even his locker couldn't escape molestation because it had a paper taped to it covered with large block letters—in red, yet:

KAIBA SETO FOR PROM QUEEN

He sighed as he pulled the paper down. It was no more than he expected. At least it wasn't painted directly on his locker door, he thought. Perhaps he should be thankful for that, considering the boors he attended school with. Taking out his books, he turned and walked to his first class, pretending that the cat-calls and whistles were for someone else.

He sat down. First period Latin. Hopefully that subject was sober enough—

"Kaiba?" The words were softly spoken and accompanied by a small hand placed on his own.

His hand involuntarily twitched out from under the offending appendage as his head jerked up from his book to find a girl he barely recognized staring straight into his eyes. "What the—What do you want?" he asked, trying to minimize the rudeness that he felt.

"It's not true. Right? What they're saying isn't true?"

Seto felt his jaw harden. What business was it of hers?

"Is this even your class?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Well …"

"If this isn't your class, I suggest you get out of here."

"But is it—?"

"Any of your business? No."

The girl turned and fairly flew from the room. Seto could swear she was in tears.

Did I ask her to do that?

He turned his attention back to the lesson, scowling. He knew it backwards and forwards already. It was elementary.

He could use a much better distraction that this.

Stupid girl. Why did she have to come by here? She didn't even want to make him feel better. She wanted to make herself feel better; reassure herself. She wanted to save her own stupid, useless fantasies. He felt sick. Fantasies about him. Fantasies that would never come true, no matter what he had said to her, no matter how "nice" he'd been. Bad enough these girls entertained fantasies like that without asking his permission; must they rub his nose in the fact that they existed?

His body still ached from the abuse Ushio had dealt it. Add headache and stomachache to that.

This was going to be an even longer day than he'd anticipated.


Atem sat in Literature class, reading. He finished the passage quickly. It was obvious enough what the point was, after all. Glancing around, it was obvious enough that their teacher was going to allow more time for the others to finish, so he glanced out the window. The PE class was playing soccer today on the field outside. He sighed softly, envying their transitory freedom.

He caught sight of a player with a beautiful physique in the distance. Long lithe legs, broad shoulders and chest, narrow waist and hips, flat stomach, tall … Come closer, you god, you!

As if in answer to Atem's silent call, the boy chased an errant kick in his general direction, finally tangling feet with Honda not five meters directly in front of the window.

Kaiba!

Atem averted his gaze immediately back to the pages of his book, feeling a flush rush to his cheeks. He should have realized. The only person with such a physique in this school was Kaiba. Honda had a nice enough one, but he wasn't as tall and he was more sturdily athletic.

Tentatively, Atem again raised his eyes to the window. The play had moved to the far goal, with Honda in full dribble and Kaiba in pursuit. Kaiba clearly had physical training, but it was aimed for efficiency, not pure prowess. Honda was focused on his physical training and Atem knew he was hoping to make a career out of it somehow.

After a couple of feints, Kaiba managed to knock the ball away and get it to his teammates. He was now joining them in the effort to score.

Atem frowned slightly. He'd never really considered Kaiba as the sort to enter into a team sport, but of course, this was an assignment.

Someone passed the ball to Kaiba. He fielded it deftly and punched it into the goal with a lightning-fast movement of his other foot. No one saw it. Kaiba's team jumped up and down, forgetting for a moment any personal issues they might have had with him.

Atem sat for a few seconds, reflecting that he'd never considered that Kaiba was now the head of his family's company and that he was a team leader in that sense. He had to find it within himself to work with others, no matter how solitary a person he might be.

"Motou!"

"Mrs Sakimoto? How can I help you?"

"You might start by paying attention in class. How many times did I call on you?"

"Once?"

"Jounouchi?"

"Uh, Atem, that's actually the third time."

"Oh, pardon me, Mrs Sakimoto."

"Why don't you tell the class what's going on outside that's so fascinating that you can't pay attention to your work?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Sakimoto, there's soccer practice going on, and I suddenly realized that I sorely need to practice my own techniques. I apologize to the class for wasting their time."

"Very well," Mrs Sakimoto said. "Please read Gloucester from the top of page 150. Anzu, take Lady Anne."

Atem began reading.

"Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.
If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,
Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword;
Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom.
And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,
I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,
And humbly beg the death upon my knee
…"

As he continued, his heart sank. He could tell himself that he loved Kaiba all he wanted—and he knew he wasn't after Kaiba's fortune, there was that—but however he looked at it, he felt like he was forcing unwanted attention onto Kaiba to fulfill his own selfish desires. Am I as low as Gloucester?

Is there no chance?

He glanced out the window out of the corner of his eye. The PE class had left the field. Atem wondered vaguely which side had won.

"Mr Motou! I know you're not an actor, but put some feeling into it?"

"Yes, Mrs Sakimoto! … But shall I live in hope?"

"All men, I hope, live so."


At lunch, Atem kept his eyes on the door, hoping Kaiba would appear. His stomach clenched on his well-practiced apology. He pushed his tray to one side.

"Are you all right?" asked Jounouchi.

"Peachy."

"Maybe his conscience is bothering him," said Honda.

"Honda …" growled Jounouchi in a warning tone. "Don't start anything. Atem has his reasons. And, besides, we're Atem's friends."

"Jounouchi, what if he wants to talk about it? Like you said, we're his friends."

"I …" Could he? Was it even possible that they could understand that he could have an actual attraction toward Kaiba? Jounouchi felt such prejudice toward the man. Honda seemed sympathetic, but Atem wasn't certain he could understand how Atem could be in love with a male.

A snide laugh was heard rippling through the cafeteria. Otogi.

Atem looked up. He couldn't help it. No Kaiba, but Otogi? Could lunch get more unpleasant?

Apparently it could. "Not sitting with your new boyfriend, Atem?" Otogi said in a loud and distinctly derisive voice. "I expected to see you sitting together. But then, again, he doesn't look so good today. Aren't you treating him well—or maybe—" Otogi paused to gasp slightly in feigned mortification, "—he's not into those sorts of perverted sex games, is he?"

Atem gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he listened to the wave of gossipy speculation flow throughout the cafeteria. There was nothing he could say that could possibly make this situation better. Simply acknowledging this idiot made things worse. Thank god Kaiba wasn't here to hear that load of BS!

The murmur of the cafeteria changing from the sound of general gossip to random conversations was suddenly interrupted by a smattering of nervous laughter mixed with renewed gossip. Atem's eyes sprang open.

Kaiba!

A relative silence fell over the room. If Kaiba noticed, he made no sign of it as he walked over to the line and selected a beverage. After paying, he began to walk out.

Otogi, who had settled in with his friends, stood up and stepped directly into Kaiba's path.

"You're impeding my progress," said Kaiba. "Get out of my way."

"I just wanted to ask why you aren't with your boyfriend."

Kaiba said nothing, but paled visibly, his face becoming rigidly tense. Unable to move around him because of the narrow space between tables, he shouldered Otogi to one side and walked out.

Well, Atem thought, so much for talking to Kaiba at lunch.

When he really gave it some thought, it wasn't that good an idea to begin with because Kaiba usually just got something to drink and then disappeared. He was probably in the robotics lab or in a classroom somewhere working on something for KaibaCorp.

Should he try tracking him down and cornering him? There was something about it that really bothered him. Perhaps it was that doing something like that was what got him into trouble in the first place. He'd really rather avoid starting yet another embarrassing argument in school.

He thought a little bit about approaching Kaiba after school. He was picked up by that big black limo every day, so it should be easy to find him, but Otogi had made approaching Kaiba in or around school next to impossible. He wanted to spare Kaiba as much further embarrassment as he possibly could.

No matter what, he couldn't stop now. He'd have to figure something out. No matter how one-sided it had been, the kiss had felt amazing. He wanted more.

He needed it.


The afternoon brought the classes that Atem and Kaiba shared, history and calculus. Kaiba, of course, excelled in all his classes, but Atem rivaled him in history. This might have been a result of the fact that Kaiba had an appalling lack of interest in the subject.

As Atem sat next to Jounouchi waiting for Kaiba to take his seat next to him on the other side, he reflected that it must have been in history class that he developed this attraction for Kaiba. He'd seen Kaiba's intellect well enough during calculus class, of course, but he hardly said a word. Occasionally, the teacher would call him to the board to work a problem, which he would do with breathtaking efficiency, but, other than to explain his steps, he barely spoke.

In history class, the students were encouraged to discuss the issues of various historical periods. This gave Atem the chance to challenge Kaiba's steadfast refusal to see value in studying the past. "You look at your sales data, don't you?" he'd said.

"Yes, but—"

"That's historical data, right? The sales data for the previous year is historical by definition."

"Yes, I suppose so, but that's business."

"There is no difference. Business history is still history. Political history, religious history, human history … there's something to be learned from all of it."

"I'm concentrating on the future."

"Kaiba," he'd said, "how can you properly plan for the future if you aren't aware of the mistakes and successes of the past? I know that you're intelligent enough to recognize that fact, no matter what you say about it. Even if you are pioneering a new field, you can find some analogous situations if you look hard enough."

Atem knew that he'd gotten through to Kaiba even though he hadn't quite admitted it.

"Think he'll show?"

"Hm?" Atem vaguely registered the fact that Jounouchi had spoken. He'd been staring at the empty chair that Kaiba usually occupied.

"Kaiba," Jounouchi said. "Think he'll show?"

Before Atem could answer, Kaiba walked in and sat down. Atem attempted not to look at him. As much as he wanted to speak with him, it was hard not to.

Jounouchi elbowed Atem not too subtly in the arm and said, "Well, didn't you want to talk to him?"

Atem tensed, sensing Kaiba stiffening noticeably on his other side. "Uh, I don't think—" he began, but Mr Yakimura walked in, cutting him short and putting an end to the buzz that had started up in the classroom upon Kaiba's entrance.

"Today we're continuing our discussion of the Industrial Revolution. We'll be discussing the inventions that propelled the era, the minds behind those inventions, and the industrialists who used them to build their fortunes. Would anyone like to give an opinion as to the most influential invention of the late eighteenth century? Mr Motou?"

"Uh … the AC electrical power generator?"

He felt blue eyes glance toward him briefly as Mr Yakimura went on. "Very interesting answer, Mr Motou. Let's hear from the rest of you. Who agrees or disagrees and why?"

Atem discretely glanced to the side as another student stated her opinion, but Kaiba was staring ahead.


Seto rolled over.

He didn't sleep that much under normal circumstances, but this was ridiculous. Usually he could push any pressing matters from his mind and get his body to relax so that he could drop off almost instantly.

Maybe because he was usually spent.

The last couple of days, though, there seemed to be so much tension in his body that no matter what he did, he couldn't get his body and mind to relax enough to sleep.

He couldn't understand it. It was frustrating. Was it that stupid Atem? Seto was positive that he should have recovered from that incident by now.

But whatever the cause, he was left to deal with the annoying effects. It was going to have an effect on his business work, which was problematic, and it was going to even have an effect on his school work, which was almost laughable … and embarrassing.

He got up and considered the options.

He could get drunk. No, killing off brain cells to get a little sleep and wake up all the worse for it was not the way to become rested.

He could take something. But he really didn't relish the idea of taking questionable chemical concoctions, plus it would be a short-term remedy at best, and the side effects ranged from embarrassing to dangerous.

He could tire himself physically until he dropped from sheer exhaustion.

Actually, that didn't sound too bad.

Seto rose and quietly slipped down to the gym.


The next day, Seto found himself in chemistry class yawning.

Yes, I really want to handle sulfuric acid on two hours rest. That's safe …

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bakura, would you handle the titration today?"

"Kaiba? Are you all right? You never let me—"

"Just—I didn't get much sleep last night, all right? Just be careful."

"All right, Kaiba."

Bakura clammed right up, knowing from experience that if Kaiba was short on sleep—by his standards especially—his temper was even shorter. Being Kaiba's lab partner was tricky. He had the benefit of Kaiba's genius—an almost guaranteed top grade—but he had to put up with Kaiba's demands for perfection and various personality quirks—flaws, some would say.

Bakura completed the motions of the lab with extreme care, then looked over at Kaiba. To his astonishment, rather than watching him like a hawk and taking notes, he had his head down on the lab bench, out like a light.

"Kaiba?"

"Mmmph?"

"Kaiba?"

"Amm, lmme sleep."

"Kaiba, chemistry lab is almost over."

"Chem—" Kaiba's head snapped up. "What? I never—" sleep in school?

Apparently there's a first time for everything.

"Kaiba," Bakura said timidly, "did you say Atem?"

"Atem? Why would I say that?"

"I have no idea. I just wondered whether he was in your dream because it sort of sounded like you said his name."

Narrowed blue eyes, now fully awake, trained on Bakura like a laser targeting system.

"I guess that wasn't what I heard."

"No, it wasn't."


By that evening, Seto was thoroughly exhausted and wanted nothing more that to go through everything he needed to complete for KaibaCorp and then roll into bed. But even with Mokuba's help, he estimated that it was going to take at least four hours. He set Mokuba to work on a pile of email while he went through some decisions, contracts, and planning documents.

The two of them sat at the roomy table in Seto's home office. Seto had dinner and a pitcher of lemonade brought in, but it didn't lighten his mood much.

"You seem tense," Mokuba commented from behind his laptop. "Usually you don't ask for my help with KaibaCorp work."

"So?"

"So, is something going on?"

"I'm tired, and I want to finish this as quickly as I can. I trust you to handle things; I just don't think you need to be weighed down by all this …"

"… boring stuff?" Mokuba suggested.

"That's a good way of putting it."

"So you're just tired?"

"Yes."

"And it doesn't have anything to do with what's on this website?"

"What website?" Seto asked, stepping around the table to look over Mokuba's shoulder.

"This," Mokuba said, pointing at the screen. "Looks like it was put up today."

"What the—" Seto began, realizing that his day had just gotten longer.

There, on the screen before him, was a photo of Atem kissing him.


Author's notes ...

It's been a while, huh? I've been making some progress (although really slow progress) on a bunch of projects, but I don't think anything's really ready. Chalk it up to a lazy summer? Still, I really want to get something out, so I'm going to risk reeling out enough rope to hang myself. I have written a fair distance ahead on this story, and I know there are at least a few people who are looking for the continuation, so I'll give it a try. (Plus, I can't start a new story right now! What is the deal, anyway?! So, while I'm waiting on that ...) However, I'll warn in advance that it might update more slowly than my stories usually do.

One note ...

Please read Gloucester: Thank you, William Shakespeare! :) That's Richard III, guys, if you're interested. ;) Call it recommended reading.

the side effects ranged from embarrassing to dangerous: side effects such as waking up face-down in a plate of spaghetti or finding that you've driven (or crashed) without knowing it. Sleep aids can have some weird effects.

Coming up ...

"Nii-sama?" he said. "Uh, Nii-sama, when were you going to tell me about this? I mean, you told me you got into a scrape with that—"

"Ushio."

"Yeah, him, but you didn't say anything about kissing someone."

Seto gets to explain what happened to his brother. What fun?