Chapter 2 of Appearances!
*Gasps, rubs fingers*
I typed too much today. Officially. (This is what I get for translating something so long so fast.)
This story doesn't go with the formatting of the previous section (actually, it didn't have any at all), so I added a small [ ... ] where I thought it appropriate.
Like normal, I'm reminding you that I didn't write this story, I only translated it, and it belongs to both Kazuki Takashi (Yu-Gi-Oh!) and Melzart (the story itself.)
I'm not sure if keeping it rated 'T' is a good idea... it should go up to M at this rate, especially if I believe original author comments warning readers about chapter four. What do you think?
Thanks to Comicker and fantasyguardian for the reviews, and of course to Melzart!
Appearances
by Melzart
. . .
Chapter 2
A Question of Identity
…
Oh, that guy from yesterday, I think… crazy as he is…
Curiously, despite the lights blinding her and not allowing her to distinguish, except with some difficulty, the shadows that were her audience, she detected Kaiba with an immediate glance, as if she had been attracted by a magnet.
He had certainly made quite the discrete entry, sure, but she had noticed him. Naomi was beginning a song by Evanescence, in English, that she seemed to have perfectly mastered.*
Still as ravishing, she was again dressed in black from head to toe. And he thought that that color worked superbly well on her, showing off her pretty silhouette quite explicitly and with detailed precision. A silhouette that interestingly did not leave Kaiba an apathetic slab of marble. He was surprised by this. Yet nothing was missing to please him – seduction had finally found its example in his large dictionary.
She wasn't very tall if he compared her to himself. But he wasn't that fooled, as he knew that she could complete with any guy on the planet.
I could definitely make her my bodyguard, he thought, smiling maliciously. Because the exact image of "bodyguard" that crossed his mind had made him instantaneously blush.
What am I thinking?
Even though he had always considered the opposite sex to be at a level slightly weaker than his own, and dreadfully boring, he still felt a certain shame at treating her with such little respect. So he chose once more to wipe away the senseless thought.
Does she… see me?
She seemed to be speaking to him, even though he believed himself to be camouflaged into the back of the room. Kaiba was of the opinion that, if so, she had to have more than perfect vision. Because if she so easily offered herself to the view of everybody present, lit up at center stage with projector-lights, he didn't understand how it could be that she could see between the spectators, most of which who would be plunged in obscurity.
Besides, why him, amongst everyone? Did she recognize him?
And then why was there the impression that she was addressing him with a particular message? As Kaiba, rather gifted in anything remotely related to learning, as with business, had learned English very rapidly, being as it was the principal language of commerce. He didn't have any difficulty clearly understanding what she was singing.
He felt, above all, true emotions, sincere ones maybe too, in the tone of her voice and in her expression. A bit of distress as well.
Was he the only one to notice this? Was it just his imagination?
He left this somber thought, however, adding that it was just a recital and in fact was just doing her job, as a pretext.
Nestling into the black, he patiently watched her song in silence, feasting his eyes and ears on her person, studying her at his leisure.
Then he went up to her room just before she left the stage.
Without even using his talents of persuasion, he managed to bribe one of the hotel's stage-hands to open up Naomi's suite to him.
He could get away with anything, right?
Yet in his eternal confidence, remorse – very brief – ran across his conscience. Remorse that disappeared as rapidly as it had come.
Wisely, taking great care not to touch anything as he wasn't a fetishist – like rummaging through her underwear, for example, even though it tickled his mind – he sat in the little entry hall where he waited for her arrival.
In reality his plan was not to seduce her or to try to corrupt her, although if she were as Mrs. Shikuru had insinuated he probably wouldn't say no.
But it wasn't really about that.
On a more prudent topic, he preferred to know whom he was dealing with before taking any action that would be taken in the wrong way.
But what was even stranger, and what alarmed him without question, was that kind of attraction, almost unhealthy for him, that he felt for the creature. In fact Kaiba still was probably the most rigid man that exited on the planet, despising making direct contact with another person the majority of the time. He wasn't one who particularly appreciated human touch, as it was indispensible that he keep himself inside his bubble and personal space to him and he didn't allow anyone to penetrate it. Except for Mokuba, of course. But the signs and symbols didn't match up. Neither did the consequences.
Everything inside him staunchly opposed it.
Despite it all, he couldn't deny having a large interest towards this woman. Like it were déjà-vu. A sensation of fever and calm at the same time. Truly odd.
. . .
She didn't immediately see the stranger that was staring at her, sitting in the half-obscure corner. Until she turned on the light. The room was charged with a muscular smell, and the air had become static.
He was tall, with eyes a very deep oceanic blue and with air of a very nice chocolate color. He was wearing black pants and a black shirt, both of which admirably outlined the shape of his slender body. Even seated, a certain haunting allure emanated from him, almost majestic.
More than surprised, she still wasn't surprised by his presence. As if she knew he would be there.
Kaiba too was not surprised by her passivity, already knowing quite well what she was capable of doing. She certainly wouldn't get angry over a guy she could beat up effortlessly.
At least, if it wasn't him.
"What the…?" she babbled, trying to preserve her calm.
…him?
"How dare you!" she cried, demanding an explanation, her voice filled with arrogance and anger.
He was neither surprised nor impressed with her menacing tone.
Getting up slowly, he contemplated her with a certain pleasure.
Oh, how don't I dare, he told himself, trying to stop himself from smiling.
"I wanted…" he began, without excusing himself.
"Yes, I know. I accept your thanks. Now get out," she cut him off brusquely.
What? She honestly thinks I came to thank her? Like I needed her help…
Kaiba seemed to want to chastise her maliciously, frowning slightly as his body wanted to move forward.
"Oh, but I had no intention of thanking you."
Naomi peered at him.
How rude!
"Anyway, I'm…"
Suddenly, he decided to lie to her, hoping that she wouldn't recognize him even though that seemed almost impossible. One in a million, surely. He was going to try.
"Kurami… Seto Kurami."
And she didn't really seem to know him, because she kept the same dark and indifferent glare without even batting an eyelash.
Perfect.
"And you are?" he asked, trying to start a discussion.
Without responding, and while opening the door, she hissed dryly:
"Not interested."
What? She dare show me to the door? Me?
Without a doubt, she couldn't really know whom she was speaking to in order to come off so impudently. Shameless, or completely crazy.
Deep inside, he was certain that she would have probably reacted in the same way whether she knew him or not. Especially when the episode involving Mr. Kinomoto came to mind.
That is what, above all else, held back his anger and even made him lightly smile.
"I invite you to dine with me, tomorrow night, at six-thirty," he said, without taking into account the probable refusal and instead thinking it obvious she would obey his every command.
She shook her head, irritated by his overly-saturated flippancy.
"Still not interested," she responded, with so much hostility that Kaiba felt the blood in his veins turn cold.
Silently, without unexpected movements, he approached her until his face was only a few inches away from her own.
Impossible, she thought, on alert more than ever. What an asshole, he's so arrogant.
"Really?" he breathed softly, as if he doubted her response.
His face threatened to touch her own as he moved closer, more implacable than ever.
He is really quite seductive… no, what am I saying? He's horrible.
She thought he might try to kiss her, but she was more surprised when he touched her, as if he were breathing her, despite all the sweat that ran across his brow.
Back off, Kaiba, if you continue… you'll… she's so… interesting… back off. What's the matter with me? God, she's so beautiful…
He's gone completely mad… I must smell bad. But other than that… all the better if he rushes outside running…. but he is really, really sexy…
Kaiba didn't move.
Strangely, she could see a change come over his face, a light smile that was slightly mocking in appearance, as if he had heard her or had the same thought.
Not so bad… she's…
Kaiba was suddenly seized by the violent desire to possess her. For a second he believed that she could sense the fever that went up to his temples, and his body grew warmer.
It burned.
"But… I insist…" he murmured, inclining a little bit further in towards her.
What is she doing to me? I have to get out of here…
Naomi felt herself a burning desire for this very attractive stranger.
"Get out!" she said, fighting to hide her great confusion.
It's not that easy, he thought, delighted that she didn't resemble the monster that Shikuru's bitch had spoken of at all.
This magnificent creature had class.
Which wouldn't fly, without increasing the pleasure he would have from winning her if that would ever become his desire.
At this stage, only curiosity mattered.
But my beautiful, beautiful Naomi… nobody resists me. You'll see…
He had been deliberately anonymous, and had thus separated himself from the main advantage he could have used; he could no longer retract it without blowing his cover. But what did it matter to her if he was Kurami or Kaiba?
With much effort, and though he never would have admitted it, he broke off of her and passed into the hallway, keeping his eyes calmly locked on her.
As if he felt that he already had some sort of hold on her, and he was sure of it, he breathed:
"Good night. Sleep tight."
Then he finally turned on his heels to walk away.
Reflexively, Naomi double-bolted the door behind her, turned cold by the casual attitude of that audacious man.
Danger. Dangerous.
Everything told her he had nothing in common with the most common of mortals. So much force, so much sang-froid… and that perfect self-mastery didn't go unnoticed.
She sighed heavily as if she were just starting to breathe again.
As long as he doesn't come back… if he does I will not be responsible for my actions.
She let escape a long sigh of relief, but couldn't hold back a timid smile from coming to her lips.
He is… cute.
Interesting.
Yet she hadn't bowed down to his will nor to his charm. For a moment, however, she asked herself which one of the two was worth more.
. . .
He thought he would crack, lose his legendary collectiveness. Little had been stopping him from grasping her and throwing her onto the bed. And that had nothing to do with the wish to harm her. Not much more than that could do anything to him. Kaiba wasn't a violent individual. Determined, tenacious, ambitious, and arrogant, certainly. But never had the idea of obliging to a woman been so kindred to his spirit… until now.
Troubled. He was deeply perturbed by these newfound sensations that were racing through his head and body. And he was scared. Strangely scared.
Was he a man to lose his ground?
But it's just a woman, Kaiba. Like any oth-… No. She isn't like the others. And she rejected me.
She doesn't know who you are.
That doesn't matter.
You're giving yourself ideas.
But… wait. She blushed, right? Think, Kaiba. Think… when you got near her… she blushed.
Now that he reflected back on it, with a bit of disgust, he had definitely seen those pretty little cheeks take up a somber rose color. And it was neither anger nor impatience.
"Kaiba," he almost yelled into the receiver of his cell phone. "I want to know every move she makes."
There was a pause.
"Fine, I'll wait."
Then he hung up, with all the certitude of the initiative.
. . .
For almost three years now, Naomi had gotten into the habit of a particular ritual. Ever since she stepped foot in Domino, every year before Christmas, and pushed by compassion – motherly instinct, perhaps – she took an active part in the distribution of presents for the children of the town orphanage. By doing so, she beat the race for toys weeks in advance.
She wasn't, obviously, a millionaire. But she got a sufficient amount to easily spend thousands of dollars. Had that been her only salary, it would have been enough. She had even convinced the hotel to invest a certain percentages of the royalties from the soirees she took part in. In this way everything went beautifully, all for the profit of those poor orphans for whom she had a tender, and very large, affection. It was her entire happiness; the only she could find on Earth. The only that allowed her quench what remained of her humanity; life had too soon been charged to shape who she would become – strong, brave… and too indifferent to appreciate the little joys of living without problems.
Every time she entered that orphanage, all the children would run joyously towards her, completely in love with the being so attentive to them.
But when she left, it was always with that weight in the bottom of her stomach, that she would run into her room for so that she could dump the sadness onto her bed, out of sight of those eyes to which she could never show a single one of her weaknesses.
Her feet had guided her one day into the orphanage as she was walking by. And she couldn't help staring at the children playing in the halls. All those children without anything or anyone in their lives. All those children who only wanted to be loved. Her heart had broken, quite strongly in her chest, at the sole thought that she couldn't do anything for them.
When she thought about it, life had taken from her a bit of her common sense, using the eyes of those children who were all alone in the world. Everything she worked for was just for these occasionally-weekly visits of the utmost importance. A warm appointment that she never missed but that left her, every time, more devastated and helpless than before.
She had tried her hardest to not attach herself to one of them, quite conscious of the fact that with each good-bye it could be the last time she ever saw them, at any time. But that never happened. They always reminded her, though, of that little girl she had profoundly, totally loved.
It was now just for them that she was tender any longer. To her own detriment.
It was her religion. And she accepted it as such, convinced that she deserved the brunt of this unending suffering.
For the oh-so-small new one, Molina, she had developed an excess of affection that she nourished practically unhealthily, causing her even more daily pain when she thought of that adorable little child that she would have to someday leave forever as well. And she trembled every time she stepped foot into that building at the idea she couldn't always be there to be welcomed by their small arms.
But she couldn't do anything. Not even ask one to come along with her.
First of all, she didn't have a lifestyle that suited a child. Never mind that she didn't a fixed home to comfortably raise it. Then, there was no one to help her; she couldn't marry a guy just for the purpose of adopting kids, knowing that sometimes – perhaps often – it is better to be alone than in bad company.
And Naomi only knew how to trust herself.
Above all, she would be terrified to find herself with a small being that she couldn't accept losing again. As if it would prove suicidal and self-destructive. Starting from 'hello'.
Of course she had been killing herself for a long time now, but at least she didn't hurt anyone but herself. Only she would be responsible for the consequences.
"Look, Naomi!" cried out Jeremy, running to join her at the table where she was coloring with Molina.
He had drawn some magnificent designs of what seemed to be some sort of monster. Jeremy was a true artist.
He told her that they were part of a very special card game. But, being too poor to possess any, he had drawn them all himself to give himself the illusion he possessed them.
"And you see, this one here is my favorite."
He pointed to a dragon among the cards.
"There are only three in the world and they all belong to- "
But they were interrupted by the shouts of other children clamoring for them to join them and take turns in playing their videogame.
Mrs. Singapour tried to calm them.
"What were you saying, Jeremy?" asked Naomi, giving him her attention again.
But Jeremy didn't have the time to respond, as he was being pestered by his friends to make them some more of the monster cards.
He hugged Naomi, leaving as he apologized for the tumult.
"Oh, boys. They're so weird with their strange games… monsters. Nothing new there," Molina sighed. Naomi's pleased laugh escaped her lips.
From the mouths of babes…
… then they start coloring again.
"Naomi?"
"Yes, sweetie?"
"I want you to be my mommy."
Naomi's throat shut violently, causing her to have difficulty in getting air for a long moment. Affectionately, she placed a kiss on Molina's forehead, drawing her close.
"That's kind of you, Molina."
Of course she knew that wasn't the response the child was expecting. But she didn't know anything else she could say.
. . .
Nothing seemed to be going fast enough for Kaiba, who, despite research having started at least two days beforehand, was only impatiently waiting for the results.
He was obsessing over that woman more than ever.
He had awoken in a very peculiar manner that morning that had never happened to him previously, even in his childhood, his member completely vertical. He had dreamt that he was making love. He even remembered have intensely felt something approaching an unknown trust, a sort of emotional climax. At any rate, it was an entirely new feeling. Utopia. And above all, it was ridiculous.
Grr… get out of my head!
No! Stay!
What's she done to me?
He growled dryly and leaned over the records spilled over the table.
"Sir! Are you alright?" asked Sadi quite lively as she placed a coffee on his desk.
I have to stop… something isn't right.
Yeah. Do that. Then you won't have her.
Yes I will. I always get what I want.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
"Sir?"
Sadi seemed concerned that Kaiba seemed so… busy.
"What?" he snapped, irritated as if she had interrupted a conversation.
Quickly realizing his mistake, he replied coldly:
"Hm. Yeah, sure."
She left, not daring to give him a second glance.
I have to know who she is as soon as I can. Ugh… what's she done to me?
The telephone rang.
"Kaiba!"
News.
"The orphanage?"
But what was she doing there?
His face looked shocked.
"What? She… was crying?"
This was all a huge puzzle to Kaiba, who didn't know anything else. Let alone venturing into speculation.
"Fine. Keep working."
He hung up then, lamenting over how slow it was taking to find out the information he had requested. He wasn't much farther along. If he did start to know her activities, he still didn't know whom he was dealing with.
But was it truly and humanely possible that she didn't recognize him, or that she didn't know him at all?
It was true that he had retired from the public scene a little over two years ago; he hadn't participated in any further Duel Monsters tournaments, hadn't organized a single one, and had been happy to focus on the direction of his company, secret that it was, or on further elaboration on different videogame designs. Mokuba had accompanied him the majority of the time, and he taught him the rudiments of the profession. It was true that he had stayed a bit more in the shadows of his reputation as a highly accomplished – and ruthless – businessman and seasoned duelist. Since his accident.
But still, he stayed the most famous and most feared man of his nation.
Thus he was stunned she didn't recognize him in some form or fashion. It was certainly a question worth asking. She could have been joking; he doubted that.
He could admit, on the other hand, that not being from his country, and only recently having arrived, she couldn't exactly be up to speed with the ins and outs of the city and the surrounding area. That was probably a good thing, if he thought about it; she wouldn't judge him simply by name but on his actions and words more than by word of mouth, most of time which was either misheard or invented out of thin air.
Of course he knew that much of the charges against him were sometimes true and well-deserved; he wasn't entirely proud of all the mistakes in his wake, and he couldn't refute them. He had learned how to fight very early on, with anything he could get his hands on, for the survival of both himself and Mokuba. At the risk of harming anyone in his way.
But he had never killed anyone. And that wouldn't be happening soon. He wasn't a criminal. He still had enough of a conscience to respect life. Even those of others.
Moreover, it was as he was. He did what he had to. No regrets.
Not the best of men, maybe – in everyone's eyes. But far from the worst, the one he saw in the mirror.
At least he looked straight at it.
. . .
The day went on without end, and he didn't get any further results. His agents still hadn't come back with the information he coveted concerning Naomi. That meant he still had to wait, and that meant he was the most sour man in the room.
The only information he was glad to hear of was another update on her location. He could have guessed it without any help. She had visited a martial arts studio almost immediately upon leaving the orphanage.
He concluded from this that she had gone there either to train or to let off some steam. You don't have to be a genius to understand that.
Kaiba hesitated for a long moment, wondering if he should go to her show she would be giving that night. He didn't want to give the impression of being overzealous, but he was dying to see her and take another opportunity to study her. A small, discrete operation.
He finally decided at the last minute, potentially wanting deep inside to let her know he didn't just 'run in' to her again. Kaiba rarely left any trace of his passage.
To his great pleasure, he recognized very few of the employees or businessmen that he knew, which left him at ease to focus entirely upon her without fear of being de-masked or denounced by one of them. He wanted, oddly enough, to keep himself completely anonymous. For as long as possible. Which definitely wasn't going to be an easy task.
She stayed in the room after she sang. Visibly, she liked pleasing some of the spectators, the usual crowd, maybe, with whom she maintained cordial relations, dancing and talking with them.
Like always, she was dazzlingly gorgeous, lighting up the room with her mere presence and eclipsing all the pale stars around her which struggled in vain to resemble her.
Kaiba believed that most women would surely not appreciate how they disappeared in her presence. But men? They flocked around her like butterflies driven insane by a porch-light.
Luckily for him, the man dancing with Naomi found himself too floored by Kaiba's presence to dare to open his mouth and stop him. Kaiba was grateful as he softly took her arm to pull her to him.
"May I?"
She was deeply surprised when she discovered who had come to dance with her.
Him again?
What's he doing here?
"No," she hissed, releasing her arm from Kaiba's grip.
But he caught up to her, baring a delicate respect.
"But I insist."
Send him packing. No… just a dance. He is really attractive. I wonder if he knows…
She finally acquiesced to his demand. After all, what he could to her in the middle of a crowded room? Plus she wasn't afraid of anybody. As seductive as he was. She wasn't going to be broken like a schoolgirl in front of her professor.
Kaiba brought her to him, keeping in time, a very small gap between them.
She smells good.
"Nice evening," he said almost as a confession, almost as if he had admitted that he liked her concert more than he liked her.
But what was he hoping for?
She's truly beautiful… does she know that?
Come on, Kaiba, you're not going to lose your head over some twit!
"My invitation still stands," he said again, staring her straight in the eyes like he was having fun.
"And it's still a no," she responded, with a smile half-serious, half-pleased.
Who does he take me for? Does he think I go out with every guy in the room?
Oh, it's okay that he's thinking of me… just one dance and he'll go.
Kaiba drew her back in a bit more tightly against him, but with equal softness.
You won't get away from me that easily, Naomi.
She didn't bother looking at him. In contrast, she tilted her head as if she were looking for something or someone in the crowd. But her body began to shiver abnormally, as if a tiny tornado were spinning around inside of her.
Kaiba felt her gently shaking, and tried to ask her about it. But she quickly avoided his inquisitive look.
"I'm getting cold," she murmured.
That wasn't impossible for the 22nd of October.
But she had to find some other reason, never having gotten anything more than a dust allergy in years. She was in perfect health.
I'm doing fine…
You think? You're shaking.
Is it me who's…?
Why am I shivering?
Go, Kaiba. Leave her. She isn't worth it.
The music finally stopped, to Naomi's relief, who gently backed away from him.
But again, he tried to pull her back in.
"A last dance?"
"No. Another time, maybe."
I am Kaiba. You can't stop me from doing anything.
With as much arrogance as softness, he pulled her towards him again, taking care to bore his eyes deeply into her own.
And you will belong to me whether you like it or not, and I will do what I want with you.
…What did I just say?
She didn't resist, perhaps too surprised by the action he had just made.
What is he…?
He wouldn't dare.
His face had gotten so close he doubted that his lips wouldn't join with hers.
What are you doing, Kaiba? Have you lost your mind?
He had acted with spontaneity, pushed forward however strangely by an irresistible will to kiss her so strong he almost would have certainly done so if he hadn't held back at the very last second, shocked that he hadn't been able to control it.
What has she done to me?
She was also shaking. But it wasn't because of the anger that had taken control of her. She wasn't entirely against… this… but more against her own weaknesses, despite the fact she had been the direct cause.
Without warning he separated from her, rearing hard as if affected by some simple premeditated sign, taking one thing and then another at his will.
Say something!
But he couldn't find anything sensible to say nor anything that could explain what he had done. Would he look at her one last time before moving away as if his shadow had slapped him?
She watched him, bewildered and motionless in the middle of the room, looking as if she were asking herself what was going on. Again.
You idiot! She has to think you completely mad! And you probably terrified her!
Come on, Kaiba, you don't need to give reasons or explanations to anyone. So stop making excuses. What's wrong with you?
I wish I knew.
She must understand that you can do what you want with her.
No, that's not what I want.
Oh, so what do you want?
No response.
. . .
What's gotten over him? And what does it mean?
She retired to her bedroom, where she let herself soak in a bubble-bath. The memory of Kaiba holding her made her wet skin shiver again.
Suddenly she understood that some common cold had nothing to do with his condition.
"It's him…"
. . .
Kaiba flipped in his bed several times, incapable of falling asleep.
He remained confused, turning from right to left before finally resolving to lie flat on his back, staring into the ceiling and into her eyes.
How was it that he could not find a single good hour of sleep since that foreign creature waltzed into his life?
Was it her beauty?
Yes, and no. He had found himself numerous times next to the most beautiful women in the world without having the need to touch them. In fact, he had always remained insensible to them. Then again, he wouldn't have had to snap his fingers before they obeyed him, either.
Totally useless and uninteresting.
But Naomi was more beautiful to his eyes – incomparably more desirable – then any of those fake whores.
He found himself smiling, unable to deny it.
So what was it?
The way she smelled? Her perfume?
She smelled like flowers. The fresh scent of innocent, bizarrely.
His thoughts were quickly cut off a change of physical state totally outside of his will, his member once more growing erect, into a marble statue.
Fine. I want her.
I already knew that.
I want her.
Yeah, I know. Then what?
I don't know.
Kaiba! Forget her!
Shut up!
. . .
"Come in!" Kaiba ordered, furiously completing his daily workload.
"I finally have what you asked for, sir," the spy claimed as he handed him a thin gray folder with both hands.
He didn't seem too sure; he was trembling slightly.
"Finally," Kaiba reprimanded, glaring at him darkly.
His eyes flew over a few of the lines. The skin on his bones bristled violently, in the throes of a nervous breakdown.
"Are you absolutely and entirely sure you know what's inside this folder?" breathed Kaiba, placing emphasis on every word as if it were required to do so.
"Yes, sir," he responded, bowing. "We've looked it over. Everything is exact, sir."
Kaiba didn't let him out of his sight, a frosty gaze that made it appear as if he were ready to pounce on him.
"Get out!"
He barely waited for the door to close before diving again into studying the folder. And what he saw deeply moved him.
"How couldn't I have known? Even doubted…?"
His eyes lost themselves in the intricate details of the city beyond the enormous office window.
He was shaking, too. A silent rage, bitter and violent.
Some truths are better left unknown, Kaiba.
He gave a large sigh, as if he were shoving out all of the anger inside him, beginning to sincerely regret his little inquiry at this point.
He would have liked to not have known. But it was too late now.
For once, his curiosity had taken him too far.
"Kaiba!" he shouted somewhat severely into his phone. "What!"
Once again, he was stunned by what he heard.
But lots of things made sense now. All the pieces of the puzzle were put into place.
Normally, he would have been overjoyed to have made so much progress regarding his prey, to ready his net and tighten his noose around her.
Only now, he felt all the remorse of the penitent.
He wasn't going to get anything from any of this. His conscience was recoiling from his act of cowardice. And he was far too important to lower himself to this level.
But he understood now what could attract her, what could reel her in.
"Thank you."
Then he hung up.
With a single push, he got out of his chair.
He knew exactly where had to go, and exactly what he had to do.
This story is getting romantically charged pretty speedily... ufufufu...