This only took me like two months... *cough* Should speed up starting late next month! Sorry, medical fatigue sucks.
Appearances
by Melzart
. . .
Chapter 12
In the Kingdom of the Little Imps
Kaiba laughed inside slightly as he watched Naomi butter up her face by applying more makeup than usual; she looked waxen, so white it undeniably contrasted with her natural beauty. He understood: she was trying her hardest to cover up the bruising, which was still quite visible, while simultaneously avoiding piquing the children's interest too highly and thus avoid indiscreet questions and more than likely embarrassing ones, too.
He asked himself again why he had deigned go so low, seeing as it would be very difficult for him to return to a place like where he and Mokuba had spent so many difficult moments in their childhood. The response was that he had promised. To be there. For her.
And it's what he was preparing for psychologically, persuaded that all the rugrats would rush towards them in an event he would have preferred less than waking up trapped in a shopping mall.
Due to his plain height he had never had trouble warding off potential annoyances. Only, with kids involved, he knew that the task could prove more difficult. He was aware that being tall was not necessarily synonymous with being imposing.
On the other hand Mokuba didn't seem to share Kaiba's reticence; on the contrary, he seemed even enthusiastic about the idea, conscious that for years, they had spent Christmas together as brothers and that they would be together for hours. Even though Seto wasn't typically accustomed to such traditional celebrations.
This year could be strikingly different with the particular guest in the house.
Naomi spent well over an hour with her creams and her foundation; and even though most of the wounds now seemed for the most part assimilated into her skin, they were still oh-so-slightly seeable. Which drove her crazy.
She had even dreamt, for a short instant, that she would have to make an exception this year because the children would pick them out despite all of her attempts for them not to do so.
And the deception was all over her face. It was frighteningly apparent when she looked at herself in the mirror.
The curmudgeonly look she gave off didn't escape Kaiba, whose head bent slightly as to her avoid her gaze.
What could he do or say that would reassure her completely?
Of course gestures and actions would change his behavior, as he knew – he still wasn't accustomed to all the humanity he had been demonstrating. But if he could share some with her, he still probably wouldn't be completely at ease, despite all the well-wishes. But it wasn't bad to try. He had already made lots of exceptions to his rules, having already broken a half-dozen of them just for her sake. And he was certain he was to break even more. But in the meantime he wouldn't plan on doing so, uncertain of himself and principally of what Naomi would do.
Then, above all, he cursed with his entire being the state of dependence that she found herself in thanks to her deplorable 'accident'. Like how she looks at herself through the eyes of others instead of her own; if not, she would never be treating herself so harshly. She was everything but weak – she was magnificent.
Approaching her softly, he decided to interrupt her.
"It's almost time, Naomi."
You're making a mountain out of a molehill, I promise.
She hesitated for another moment, locked in front of the image reflected back in that fucking mirror. She could feel Kaiba's eyes on her; he wasn't about to move. She didn't dare raise hers to meet them directly.
Be brave… be brave.
She was oppressed by a starving worry.
I'm here, Naomi… you're not all alone.
He affectionately placed his hand on her shoulder.
In an almost superhuman effort, Naomi sighed heavily and placed her hairbrush on the counter. She could sense Kaiba's living solicitude which, outside of his customary polar appearances, stayed loyal to her well-being.
But there was no question that she could not show the slightest weakness at this particular event. If she were to like the fact he was with her, understanding he was like a wall around her, she also understood that under normal circumstances he wouldn't be there, just like he was never there beforehand. What she had to do she had to do alone.
So she hoped he would understand. It wasn't like he was a stranger.
Noiselessly, she got up and Kaiba understood immediately that she was in no need of anyone's help. It was probably to be so throughout the evening. And he was worried to know that she, just as fragile and driven by pride both good and bad, was depriving herself of assistance.
"Please, Marie," she said, nodding her head in respect to Kaiba's maid.
She was petrified, uncertain of her boss' reaction if she were to accept Naomi's gift that she was holding out to her; but she was also very moved by the simple but greatly sincere gesture.
But Naomi, despite Kaiba's distant expression as he focused away from the scene, insisted again, this time directly in front of him.
"It isn't anything given the kindness and care you've shown to me while I've been here."
Marie shuddered as she moved her hands maladroitly towards Naomi's present.
She seemed doubtlessly expectant of her master's approbation and became embarrassed by her own inaction.
Naomi, quite irritated, let her eyes drift over to glare directly at Kaiba who, upon meeting her eyes, finally decided to react.
"Accept it, Marie. It's a gift."
And you certainly deserve it.
But the last phrase never left Kaiba's lips, who believed her had already spoken enough.
"Ma'am… sir…" she breathed, reassured by their combined magnanimousness.
In a spontaneous movement she bowed her head numerous times in thanks, too emotional to know exactly how to respond. It seemed to Kaiba that a simple 'thank you' seemed too little, given the honor they had seemingly bestowed.
Every year, for Christmas, Kaiba played down the holiday while simultaneously not completely ignoring it. But with a slip of the mind, and of time more accurately, he had a larger tendency to give a supplementary check to his closest employees such as Marie and his bodyguards. He had not made an exception this year; he had doubled his habitual pay raise given the turbulence of recent events. He concluded he came off as sufficiently generous.
Naomi showed him, once more, that not everything is an eternal question of money. Even Sadi had taught him that lesson, but he couldn't have hoped to change him in just a few short weeks. He could hardly remember it. But he knew, even if just for pleasure, he had to clamber out of his rabbit-hole. He barely knew what a 'simple thought' comprised of in terms of gift-giving.
As for the rest, he began to slowly unwind from the angry impulses that controlled him, even though he would refuse the right of anyone to see it.
"Thank you, ma'am. Thank you very much."
Kaiba wasn't too surprised when he saw Naomi warmly hug Marie. Surely she must hold her in such high esteem.
Wisely, then, he decided to not intermingle with the scene.
"Have a great holiday with your family," Naomi wished her once more before watching her disappear out the door.
She must have felt Kaiba's unease vis-à-vis the situation; felt that he had turned into marble. But if she understood that he didn't share her ways to appear warm towards others and Mokuba, she should be grateful to have not interfered or sought to aggravate him to act against his will.
Deep inside, she was convinced: Kaiba had never learned to communicate with others. He knew nothing of warmness or human outpourings. She even believed that in the most profound sector of his interior, maybe he regretted it, in his own way.
And should it not just be in spirit, she could never blame him.
. . . . . . . . .
He kindly accompanied her, keeping within an inch of her up to the limousine, where he then quite gallantly gave her his coat.
Outside, a pretty covering of snow was strewn over the city. It was so beautiful, so sweet.
They arrived at the limousine, where Mokuba was already waiting for them. He had left everything up to his brother.
Roland respectfully opened the door of the limo after having bowed before them, particularly for Naomi, who smiled as soon as she gained the opportunity to spy her gift in plain sight, in the middle of each of the suits worn by the surrounding bodyguards.
She smiled once more, which greatly pleased Kaiba, who didn't quite grasp the significance yet. He soon saw the object of her pleasure; around the neck of each of his men hung a quite particular tie, upon which were printed white dragons.
Naomi! She knew… but how? How did she learn?
He stood there, astounded, quickly bringing a severe eye in turn upon each of them.
He should naturally speak about this with Roland. Yet in the meantime, unsure if he should be ecstatic or offended by the lack of discipline – small at that – he decided to ignore it for the moment to uniquely focus upon the young woman who was waiting for him in the back seat of the limousine.
Without saying a word, he sat down, thrusting his glance out the window to stare at the new neckties.
He wanted to burst out laughing. It certainly wasn't the most shocking thing to ever happen to him. And though he didn't normally appreciate it, it seemed to Naomi that he was in a good enough mood to let it go.
"Is it annoying?"
He stirred from his reverie.
"What?" he asked loudly.
But the smile he saw proved that she had perfectly followed the course of his thoughts.
"I couldn't resist when I saw them at the mall," she told him. "I hope it doesn't bother you."
These knickknacks, bother him? Ha! On a normal day, possibly. But because the charming courtesy was hers… how could he get mad over it? Besides, it wasn't as if she had forced them to wear them. They were simply gifts, just as she had done to Marie.
"No," he admitted, concealing the joy he was feeling.
Finally, he had been persuaded: she was beginning to uncover what was behind Seto Kaiba. Maybe she even recognized in him the great duelist he had always been. He would have to have a discussion with her about that when the moment was right.
. . . . . . . . .
The room was splendid, dressed up in decorations equally as sumptuous and gorgeous as any of the best. Nothing seemed to be lacking from the enchanting décor: not even the multitude of plates and delicacies spread over all of the tables where the children were now swarming
What the…
Naomi was as astounded as she was moved.
Obviously one of the donors must have been far more magnanimous than usual. She had never seen, with her own eyes for three years, such an abundance in this orphanage.
Everywhere, long strings of sparkling lights and golden wreaths of garland hung from the walls and the ceiling. But what caught her attention, as soon as she walked in, was the majesty of the even more richly decorated, enormous multicolored pine tree; from its base stretched hundreds, maybe even thousands of presents, it seemed to her.
All of this was truly an extraordinary feat.
Answers to all of her questions would doubtlessly come later. At the moment, it didn't matter who nor how any of this could have happened because of the happiness of these dear children was an unprecedented success.
Then voices suddenly flooded the room, leaving what seemed to her to be a stupefying silence giving way to a sudden accosting of shrieks.
"Naomi!"
The majority of the little faces had raised their eyes towards the new arrival, also clambering onto chairs to throw themselves at her; they had first come in little groups, then, their excitement building, they began to have the energy of real crowd, ready to stampede right over her.
Grrr…
Seto soon heard the screams and pitter-patters of tiny running feet. Which greatly alarmed him.
He had barely been away from her for a few seconds – the time for him to strip himself of his coat near the front door – but from one moment to the next, she was surrounded, her personal space completely invaded by the little creatures who knew nothing of the state she was in. They couldn't guess that they risked injuring her, though they meant well.
So, running, he didn't think – still – about anything other than protecting her, and ran even faster, before finding himself behind her, skirting around her, and then was in front of her, defensively.
Upon seeing him, the children instantaneously froze, stopping their crazed dancing and their cries of enthusiasm.
In their eyes he could see shock mixed with fear. Then an immeasurable admiration lit them up like porch lights.
There were whispers after the silence passed.
"Mister Kaiba!" a young boy dared to cry out, as if unbelieving.
But Seto didn't display any immediate reaction other than shifting his arrogant glare between them all as if personally addressing each one for something they had done wrong. Naomi stayed behind him, and that was all that mattered to him.
Then the murmurs grew more insistent, before solidifying into percolating cries.
"Mister Kaiba! Mister Kaiba!"
The children were panicking, all desiring to capture the attention of the famous man.
Naomi stood dumbfounded; it wasn't that she was jealous by the sudden turn-around but she could never have guessed the monstrous effect that he would have on the children, principally on Jeremy, who was inching ever closer towards him.
"Mister Kaiba! Please… can we see the dragon?" he asked timidly.
"Yeah! Yeah! The dragon! The dragon! Mister Kaiba!" echoed the rest of the band.
This time, what Kaiba feared most happened: the children were no longer containing themselves, and began to race towards them once more.
More the protector than ever, he held his arm out behind him in an attempt to create a small barricade for Naomi's sake, hoping that the half-crazed swarm would not reach her.
Grr… what little monsters, he thought.
How was he ever going to be able to hold back such an enthusiastic clan of brats?
He was growing warm, he knew, and even though nothing seemed different about his faithfully constant state of coldness, large beaded drops were scintillating on his temples, as he was brutally fearful that Naomi would find herself in the heart of these "festivities".
Then the collective mind's opinion seemed to split: some became occupied with garnering Naomi's attention, others his own.
All that he could hear amidst the cacophony consisted of two very distinct phrases:
"Mister Kaiba! The dragon!"
"Naomi! Naomi!"
He felt it: he was fuming, on the verge of screaming to silence the mob, readying his voice as he knew the best way to get his point across: demand. Impose silence upon them, and force them to back away. That was when he felt something pull on the end of his very long coat*. Something insistent, which he hadn't previously felt during the melee. Something that made him shut his mouth before he thought he had even opened it.
What? What is –
Kaiba deigned to lower his eyes.
He didn't know how she could have dissimulated so well from his sight, or how she could have shoved a path through the hordes, but there she was. Very tiny – miniscule, even. A young girl, barely five years old, was pulling on his coattails.
Kaiba's eyebrows shot up; the little toy doll-like thing with almost jet-black hair and milky complexion was dressed up in a tiny dark red dress. Truly cute.
And what managed to surprise him even more – virtually overwhelming him at the same time – was a queer resemblance to Naomi's physical features. Of course, far younger. And, without showing it, Kaiba's heart melted at the sight of the adorable little thing.
"Naomi," she implored, now holding her arms out towards her. Her face shone brightly.
Naomi seemed to soften just as much for a long moment upon seeing the sweet child, whom she recognized without a problem and was truly excited to see again.
On his part, Kaiba effortlessly felt the strange emotional tie which seemed to unite them as if he rapidly noticed the emotion that troubled Naomi, without even having to turn around to consummate the idea.
"Molina," she sighed as she smiled, relieved that she was still part of the gang.
Oh… no. I think… maybe… Kaiba thought.
In effect, the little girl latched on to Kaiba's coat for balance as she continued to reach out for Naomi. It was clear that she undeniably wished to be held.
Kaiba awoke from his torpor, realizing the danger. He knew it: if he didn't act fast, she could be capable of anything to get closer towards her.
Thus, without sudden movement but not caring about the other children who were attempting to capture their attention, he bent down to take the child between his hands and held her lightly at a distance from him, arms nearly fully outstretched, scrutinizing her with a polar glare as if she were an odd trinket he didn't quite know how to handle.
Seto, what are you doing? Naomi thought, alarmed, at the unexpected maneuver.
Molina stayed there for a moment, suspended quite far above the ground, feet swaying in the emptiness and her body between Seto's hands who, secretly admiring, stayed silent to examine her for a short instant.
Truly curious… this… little thing…
But the little girl, absolutely non-impressed by the visitor, had eyes only for Naomi. She alone was at the center of her thoughts. And so she felt profoundly wounded to have not reached her, to be the prisoner – temporarily – of this strange man she didn't know.
"Naomi," she repeated, practically begging.
Naomi walked forward slowly, conscious that the child was far more terrified than anyone else. She had noticed a certain distress in Molina's eyes.
But Kaiba brought her softly towards him, knowing the effect he was certainly engendering on the child.
"Naomi can't hold you right now," he started to explain, trying to use more sweetness in manner and in voice.
But the strategy did not deliver the desired consequences.
Oh, no, not this, Seto thought as he watched the toddler's eyes fill with tears.
She was going to burst out sobbing at any moment. He definitely required an urgent plan of action. But what to do?
Ugh. Women.
Get over yourself, Kaiba.
"But… if you want to stay in my arms…" he began again, trying to stay calm, "I'll take you with us, to our table, okay?"
The little girl seemed unsatisfied with the deal. She hesitated quite a while before responding or reacting.
Kaiba found himself needing to insist.
"Naomi will be there… of course," he said.
The teary-eyed face of the little girl looked for Naomi, who, affectionately taking her hand, gave her tacit acquiescence to Kaiba's demand.
He lamented the envy he saw in that glassy expression, and this bothered him greatly because this child, more than any other in the room, was considerably more privileged at the moment than they were. Only he had also equally understood that she was probably the one that Naomi's heart had elected above all of the others and he could not deny the veritable affection that seemed to unite them. Thus, he preferred the lesser of the two evils.
. . . . . . . . .
Molina had not changed her behavior one iota and stayed equally happy in her joyful humour, cheerfully sitting between them.
Still, Kaiba was looking out; even though he appeared to be far above the rest, as if ignoring them, he could not detach his attention from the small girl half glued to Naomi.
"Did someone hurt you, Naomi?" she asked, as she reached out, wanting to brush her cheek.
But Naomi dodged the little hand with a smile.
"It's nothing, Molina," she breathed gently, reassuring.
Kaiba tuned in to listen, greatly worried by the conversational twist this indiscretion could cause.
"Where were you? Why didn't you come for such a long time? Is it because of your boo-boos?" the toddler continued to say.
Naomi sighed softly, perfectly aware of the attention Kaiba was giving them now.
"Don't worry about it, Molina. I'm okay. I had a little…accident… but I'm doing very well now," she answered cautiously.
But the little girl did not seem at all satisfied.
"Oh! Are you sure you're okay? What type of accident? Did you get hurt? Tell me!"
She was dying of worry.
Naomi didn't truly know how to respond this time. She seemed to be looking for the right words to use.
Kaiba, persuaded that she would have difficulty with lying to the child, intervened.
"A car wreck," he admitted, not looking at her and hoping that this would satisfy her curiosity.
The child looked visibly shell-shocked.
"What? A car wreck?" she nearly screamed as she further scrutinized Naomi's bruised face.
"Yes… that's right," Naomi stumbled. "But I'm doing okay now, Molina."
She wasn't really happy with this mystery.
"And… was he there? Mister Kaiba? Did he help?"
Both Naomi and Kaiba shivered, each one being somewhat shaken from their thoughts by the question.
No. It's my fault, Molina, Seto mused as he plunged his icy glare into empty space, holding back his fists from pounding onto the table.
"Yeah," Naomi sniffed, ignoring Kaiba's imminently remorseful thoughts. "A lot," she insisted with a whisper.
Seto breathed out, despite himself.
"Oh, so, is he nice?" Molina asked again.
Naomi grinned slightly at the mention, nodding her head in approval.
A far-fetched idea appeared to then traverse the girl's mind because then, in a movement, hopping on her chair, she cackled joyously as her mouth – covered by her hands – approached Naomi's ear.
"And…. do you think he's handsome?" she whispered, taking great care to make sure he could not hear their words.
Although he was not very habituated, Kaiba chose to ignore the mostly odd attitude of young girls who seemingly loved to make mysteries.
Was he interested, even for a fraction of a second, about the subject of their discourse?
If he were, he never let it show, feigning total indifference.
But he could not ignore the cunning grin, the almost gleeful expression on Naomi's face as she wiggled in response to Molina's questions.
She opted foremost for honesty.
"Very," she breathed as she addressed a look at Kaiba, who didn't return the gaze right away.
Then she turned her head away, now embarrassed by the thorny subject matter.
Only Molina was really having fun between the two of them, gracefully causing the affective disorder that was gnawing on them both.
It's sometimes completely insane what could occur to a young mind of five. She proved the adage when she decided to become more discrete once more, this time with Kaiba himself.
As fast as lightning she was on his arm. He barely deigned look at her.
"Mr. Kaiba… is Naomi…pretty to you?"
"Molina!" Naomi chastised, desiring that she stop these little games which, she was sure, were not overly pleasing to Kaiba.
Seto froze, straight as a pole, at the question. Too many things were going through his head.
But the strangest of all was the indescribable joy he felt at the simple thought of that adorable woman which had entered one soiree, just like that, into his life.
Of course, he needn't answer to anybody. Especially some overly-spastic kid.
Yet…
"…yes…" he murmured, not looking at either one of the girls.
The little girl smiled, showing off all of her teeth.
Could it be that all the coldness and indifference served at nothing to camouflage some real humanity?
Unfortunately for him and Naomi, the child was far from complete with her interrogation.
"….and…. do you like her?"
Kaiba turned to stone, instantaneously, there on his chair.
"Molina!" Naomi reprimanded severely. "That's enough!"
But the girl insisted gravely, as if dead certain that she could pull from Kaiba all that she wished for.
Ugh… when is she going to stop? Besides, why does she have to ask so many questions anyway?
Seto didn't know anymore where or how he should position his feet. It appeared to him that the floor was falling away from his chair.
But she was not concerned at all with some inconvenience of his.
The tiny toddler remained alert for the slightest hint to appear on Kaiba's face, who remained stoic. Yet, she would have sworn that she had had the time to see what could have been just the most minute hint of a glimmer in his eyes. And it was far from being anger.
"So, do you like her or not?" she kept insisting.
There was no way to get around it if he didn't other than come off as dry and unpleasant, which Naomi surely would find distasteful.
"Yeah. A lot," Kaiba breathed, who almost regretted that the words had come out of his mouth, as inaudible to him as they might have seemed.
Now it was Naomi's turn to fidget in her seat. The bizarre confessions sufficiently unnerved her to keep silent.
Was it really possible that… now?
No. Probably he felt guilty again about what had happened and was looking for a way to get out in his own fashion. Or she at least thought so.
Maybe he really loved her after all. If not, why had he taken such care of her person and not dared to give the job to anybody else?
She preferred to act as if it meant nothing. Deep down, perhaps he had claimed this in the hope of shutting Molina up once and for all.
Grr… why did I say that? Why? Ah! This girl is hopeless… she's-
Seto didn't dare look at Naomi, and he felt her malaise that he had inadvertently just created.
Now she was indifferent, instead smiling tenderly at Mokuba, who was sitting on the other side of the table and was very much distracted in his attempt to shoo a swarm of children out of his personal space.
Molina appeared to steady suddenly when, for the first time since they had all been sitting at the table, she fell quiet. She even seemed grieved, the smile having been wiped away.
"What's wrong, Molina?" Naomi asked quickly.
The girl gave a long sigh. Her eyes were glazed with a certain sadness.
Even Kaiba was partially concerned about the sudden calm.
"Well… if you like him too, Naomi," she said, "does that mean you're going to get married?"
Married?
Naomi was truly taken aback by the simple idea which she had never considered up until then, never having previously envisaged it. It was not her destiny. And she had noticed a dark shiver run up Kaiba's body.
What? Seto had turned, filled with shock and stupefaction, towards the little girl. But once his eyes crossed Naomi's, he realized he'd rather run away that moment.
It was true that the question had never previously been asked before. And he wouldn't have known how to have asked, if he had come up with it. Then again he never would have thought of it, given everything that happened to them recently.
But above all he felt that the worst was yet to come; she hadn't stopped messing with Naomi's heart with her endless supply of questions. Which was a thousand times worse.
He also realized then that by "marriage", she also meant-
No! Don't go any farther with this, Molina! Don't-!
"Then, you'll have kids!..."
This time, in Kaiba's body a savage electric current seemed to scramble upward, though he doubted that his own body was reacting the most between the two of them. In a flash, hiding the anger he could unleash upon Molina at that precise instant, he glanced over to assess Naomi's reaction.
His eyes moved quickly towards hers, awaiting her response.
Molina was a cruelty without parallel. In perfect ignorance thereof, naturally.
Naomi's jaw was clenched, her breath cut off. She was trembling slightly.
When she finally felt herself being scrutinized by that polar, inquisitive stare, she seemed to come back to reality. She breathed inward with a bit of a struggle, visibly fighting to hold back tears which were nevertheless beginning to materialize in the corners of her eyes.
Grrr…
Seto did not remove his eyes from her.
"Excuse me," she breathed as she went to stand, somewhat weakly, from her chair.
Seto immediately shot an arm towards her to help her.
"No… thanks," she said, without looking at him. "I'm fine. Please, stay here with Molina."
I don't need your help, Seto.
Grrr… stop…. Naomi…
She finally was standing completely. Kaiba remained on alert for the slightest hint of weakness in her step.
"Mokuba!" he ordered. "Look after Molina for a second, alright?"
His little brother raised his head. He had only heard certain snippets of conversation but certainly knew that something was going on. And it worried him slightly.
. . . . . . . . .
Quietly, Naomi finally arrived at the restroom, where she locked the door and left Kaiba on the threshold.
He was literally dying with worry, staring at the door as if he were willing himself to see inside.
I'm here Naomi… don't reject me.
A weak sniffing noise indicated to him that she was crying.
Kaiba's fists curled and then came to rest, without a sound, upon the door.
I know, Naomi. I know…
He hated the fact that she was so far from his arms.
"Naomi," he mumbled, convinced she could hear him.
With some difficulty, she attempted to pull herself together again.
"I'm okay…. give me a few minutes. I'm just a little tired," she succeeded in babbling.
Kaiba was going insane, shaking his head from side to side and refusing to leave her for over a second. His heart also ached.
Softly, his fists melted away, letting his fingers glide affectionately across the door as if it were Naomi's skin.
No. I'm not moving from this spot, Naomi.
But you can't understand, Seto. It hurts so much… you can't.
Naomi had several instances where she could barely contain herself. She felt Kaiba's presence on the other side of the door, and he obstinately was stuck there.
Painfully, she rose from the floor, putting her hand on her fist.
How could it be that he seemed to understand her so well, he who knew next to nothing about her and who strutted about seemingly only caring about himself?
What did he want? What was he waiting for to come out of her, exactly?
And what if Molina had caught on to that saucy game of theirs?
Many questions were storming around in her brain. But she remained firm in her opinion that this was neither the time nor the place to let herself get bogged down by them. The party was in full swing. This wasn't the moment to be sad. Thus she decided to forget everything and return to that table where that little girl and the other children of the orphanage were expecting her.
There wasn't that much time left – barely a few more hours, and everything would be over.
When she opened the door, Seto was hovering a few steps away, eagerly awaiting the moment.
"You don't have to follow me. It's not necessary," she breathed softly.
Yes, I do.
Kaiba didn't respond to the formulaic commentary. He lacked the courage to admit he empathized with her pain. He'd rather betray himself before he did so. And it certainly was not the best time to tell her this.
So, like a good gentleman, he glided forward to hold her against him.
Words were not needed: he knew this. He even believed that sole fact that he was there took a weight off Naomi's shoulders, who let herself fall into him.
She was so fragile. Seto could even feel it as she leaned against him.
I'm here, Naomi. Don't forget that.
How could he manage to know exactly what to do when she wanted him the least? Or, more importantly, at the moment where she needed him most?
"We can go back, if that's what you want," he murmured.
"No."
"Okay."
She sighed softly and let herself be led towards the main room by Seto, who never deviated from her by more than a millimeter.
He suspected that she was already exhausted by all the effort that the long evening demanded. And it was becoming painful to not know.
"Naomi… are you okay?" Molina demanded as soon as she had returned.
She truly seemed worried about Naomi's temporary absence.
"Yes… I'm fine, Molina. I'm just a little tired. Don't worry," she responded.
It's me who's worried, Kaiba thought, beginning to feel as if the visit grow longer and longer. But he promised himself that he would continue to look after Naomi to the finest detail, so that nothing else would perturb her presence or tire her further.
. . . . . . . . .
A tad later, and even though they were surveying from afar, Kaiba acquiesced to the demand of the children who wanted to, with their own eyes, see the infamous Blue Eyes White Dragon summoned by its master.
Even though she was paying almost all of her attention to Molina, Naomi couldn't help but crinkle her eyebrows when she saw the strange animal appear smack in the middle of the room and did so even further when she noticed Seto's infatuation with ordering it around.
It seemed to be under his complete control – remarkably so. And she could feel the plain power of his presence emanating from his person. Maybe it was even that inner desire to command, and to be obeyed.
Seto, on his part, did not let Naomi out of the corner of his eye, despite the masquerade and the brilliant demonstration of only a fraction of his knowledge. He could feel, even from this distance, the particular tenderness which was established between a woman and a child. He of course felt excluded. And simultaneously more concerned than ever.
A little angel on his shoulder implored him to neither separate them nor interfere in their relationship.
So he stayed away for quite some time.
Of course, slipping entirely into the skin of Seto Kaiba was always what he did best. And he tasted with a pleasure and boundary-less pride the moment of triumph to be the object of such a spontaneous admiration of one who had come for the children without a second thought.
On the contrary to what he believed, from the beginning, he had always been happy to be a role model.
Purely egotistically, again. But this was the sole instant that he allowed himself to really feel like it, or so it seemed to him.
He had become the true center of attention during the evening. And he tried not to take too much pleasure out of it. At least Naomi could stay at peace without being attacked by those redoubtable creatures.
And then there were the thanks for an event on a scale so large it had never previously been seen at the orphanage.
The question of the presents did not exactly end with the director, Mrs. Kimoshi, who practically forced herself, it seemed, to walk up to Kaiba, who looked inquisitively at Naomi and found that she looked as if someone had nailed her under a boulder.
It appeared that she had lost herself in interminable speech patterns of giving thanks. But above all, she won the right to a glacial stare from Kaiba who hurried to push her away as if fearing for his life that his secret might be unveiled.
Visibly, it was too late because his good humor had transmogrified into a pronounced and lively irritation; particularly as he felt Naomi's gaze fall upon him, making him feel like the object of some odd variety of bullying. He knew she understood clearly why.
Seto? Was it you who - ?
The generous donation was thus traceable to him?
How could he dare to immerse himself in her private life to the point of outbidding her best intentions and charity? In whose name? And why?
Kaiba remained profoundly troubled because he had never wished for this action, purely from the heart just this once, to become some sort of conflict of interests with Naomi. Especially less so under the mere pretext he had done it because he had a sufficient amount of money.
Above all, he was repulsed by the idea that she would doubt his true intentions – that is, he feared from the beginning that she wouldn't believe that it would be a manner of holding her close. It had never been a question of blackmail; he wasn't about to abase himself to please her, even though that was first on his list, just so she could lose herself in recognition. Because he knew best that absolutely nothing whatsoever could keep Naomi from fleeing other than genuine affection.
He wasn't quite sure himself. He didn't know her feelings, even though he could more or less sense them each time his fingers came to rest upon her body. She couldn't lie, then – not more than he could have in a similar situation.
Only Naomi maybe wasn't one to appreciate such a gesture. Maybe it seemed to her, if she were to take it awry, to be purely interference into her personal life. Maybe she would believe that he was sufficiently rich enough to try to buy her out again, the first time being at the hospital when she had saved Mokuba and he had offered her, maladroitly in retrospect, a salary to watch over him. He remembered very well how disgusted she had been at the prospect.
Thus, however, was what he had been looking to avoid. And the poor woman had just betrayed him, without hardly knowing it.
Yes. From the deepest corner of his heart, he hoped that she had not committed the most grave error in her life.
Naomi had apparently cooled her ardors a tad. She appeared to be cloistered in a semi-silence which Kaiba absolutely disliked. Nothing about it was good. But something was visibly tormenting her.
She stayed the same once she came into contact with the children again and even Mokuba, whom she liked enormously. But she didn't dare look at Kaiba anymore.
The same questions were turning around and around in her mind.
Why hadn't he said anything?
It was true that he had waltzed into her life seemingly on a spare draft of wind. And unsatisfied with wrecking the path of her life like a hurricane, including shaking her up a bit in the process, he allowed himself also to add himself to the concerns of her person, her actions.
Just what was he looking to do? What were his intentions? Finally, was there any chance that all of this was compatible with disinterest?
What did she know, deep down, about Seto Kaiba? Simply everything he wished to expose to her.
On the other hand, no matter what his plan, it was the children who could profit and live this fantastic, magical moment of their lives thanks to him. How could she keep a grudge against him when she only dreamt of forgetting?
. . . . . . . . .
Naomi tenderly kissed Molina's forehead; the night was winding down and the child, still glued to her hip, had fallen asleep, probably overwhelmed by the memories she could choose to keep. But her eyes did not trail from her, taking care to not disturb the girl's soft slumber.
If she had been able, she would not have left her. If she had been able, she would have left that room with Molina in her arms.
Now, a very disagreeable sensation had ripped apart every fiber of her being. Naomi felt an unexplainable sadness invade the back of her throat; that of never again seeing the adorable little girl who she was so pained in leaving behind.
She hadn't noticed Seto's attention, but he had not missed any of the scene. He also felt the sadness, a certain bitterness upon seeing Naomi so heartbroken.
It was completely mad how he detested seeing her suffer.
"May I?"
Seto had stretched his arms towards the girl to take her, desiring himself to go carry her onto her bed; he was assured that it was what Naomi wished to do the most at present. So he forced himself to do her this pleasure.
When they arrived at the dormitory, there were already many children who were sound asleep. Others were well on their way. And between the two of them, there wasn't much time to say goodbye.
Naomi couldn't wrench her eyes off of the toddler. She was too weak.
Seto, withdrawn, curled his fists. Naomi was suffering. Terribly.
Tenderly, she caressed Molina's cheek, and gently let it go. Then, passing the waiting Kaiba, she murmured:
"There's an example of the danger of being too attached to people…. they always leave, one day or another."
But you already know that, don't you, Seto? That's surely why you're as solitary as you are, too.
. . . . . . . . .
What?
They were the first words she had directed at him for hours. What did she mean exactly? Once again did she want to attempt to flee from him, distance herself from him, because she was fearful of becoming attached to him and then losing him, or was she simply shaken by the fatigue and pain she felt at the moment?
Kaiba's troubles weren't over.
He knew that nowhere in the world would Naomi be granted the right to happiness before the phantoms of her past would resurge again to haunt her.
However, at that precise instant, he thought he could see a gleam of hope driving her forward. Very thin; very minuscule. But he was going to try.
As he had predicted, she was morose the entire way back to the mansion, again battered by her thoughts, each one as torturous as the other. She seemed inaccessible, firmly anchored in an immutable silence. Silence which he deigned respect, despite the desire to energetically latch on to her and allow her to finally let all of those monsters escape from the broom cupboard of her memories.
But he had no right. He could do nothing but wait, hoping that time and maybe even the trust she would one day totally confide in him would become favorable to their bond.
She was almost out like a light, he knew. So Kaiba insisted that the present-picking be done the following morning. This made Mokuba quite depressed. But he well understood the situation, given the enormous effort Naomi had to put forth at the orphanage. He also felt it more prudent to wait. And he was nothing more than a kid… worse, while the world was sleeping, he had all the leisure he needed to rattle the presents in an attempt to determine their contents. This thought, mostly infantile, let a huge grin plaster itself onto his face.
Naomi somehow undressed, the wounds spouting as much from the inside as they were apparent on the outside.
She was done. Completely wrecked. There was nothing more to do than head to the bathroom to take off her make-up, which would be difficult given the thickness with which she had applied it. It might take her hours.
She therefore opted first for a good soap-down, then sprinkled on some fresh water to end the clean-up. It was more radical and not much more rapid than using make-up remover and buffer.
When she raised her head to the mirror, she staggered back a step, as if she didn't recognize the person that she saw. The bruising had reappeared despite her efforts.
Ugh. It was horrible how she could hate herself at times.
"You need help?"
Kaiba had deliberately came out of his slump. He loathed the hatred that she had endlessly crowned herself with ever since the accident.
She surprised herself when she sneered mockingly.
"You're not a magician, but you can make anything disappear."
But Kaiba didn't laugh.
On the contrary. He only took a heavy wound from the allusion.
Softly, taking the hairbrush up off the dresser, he went to tend to her.
His body, standing directly behind her, was now touching hers.
"If I were," he said, "I would."
Everything for you, Naomi.
He didn't lie at that moment, however. If only he knew what would help peel back the layers of Naomi's psyche. He wouldn't find it easy.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
So they were there. He knew that they would somehow get around to talking about the evening's arrangements.
"You weren't supposed to know," Kaiba responded frankly. "It's personal. It's my business, Naomi."
"Your business?"
She was definitely offended by the words, although she was bending the original meaning.
"And if I hadn't tipped you off… would you have done it anyway?" she asked, on the verge of exploding.
"Maybe. Maybe not," he retorted, excessively desiring to avoid a useless quarrel. "What's done is done, Naomi."
She turned around to face him, sighing loudly.
"That's true. You're right," she admitted, too exhausted at any rate to get caught up in a dispute. "But I would have just liked to know, that's all."
Kaiba probed deeper into her thoughts.
"Are you really that mad about it?"
She lowered her head.
"All I know… is that thanks to you, they just had the most wonderful Christmas they've ever had, no matter what you actually wanted to have happen. And I could never blame you for that. You're right. It's none of my business."
With a single movement, she found herself nestling into him as his arms wrapped around her.
"It is your business, Naomi." He breathed. "I was a tad egotistic…"
She seemed concerned by the new subject matter.
"I thought," he began again, "that you would like it. But you didn't need to know. It wasn't my intention for you to learn about it."
She jumped a little.
What?
Seto kept silent, uncertain of Naomi's reaction.
"You did all that… for me?"
She was quite moved. Never had anyone given her such a beautiful gift. Without entirely giving up arms, she had no will to fight. Thus, partially paralyzed in her emotions, she preferred to avoid a prolonged conversation.
It was late, she was done.
So she detached herself from him and without entirely walking off without a second glance, she took his hand to lead him to the bed where he helped her clamber in, conscious of several sore spots where there were wounds without scars.
But he immersed himself in her body, with the greatest of delicacy.
Again, Naomi killed herself, too buckled down in her own thoughts. However, at no precise moment did she ever feel that she would want to forget everything just to feel the warmth and comfort of his arms.
They stayed there, tranquil, silent, clinging to each other. Although his desire for this woman was strong and he could not hide it, even under the covers, he preferred to feel the softness of the moment a thousand times to his ephemeral torrents of searing desire, as appreciated as they were.
Naomi smiled gently at this overflow of compassion. She of course felt Kaiba's primal desire, but refused to give it any thought.
"Thanks," she murmured. "As much for them as for me."
All of a sudden Kaiba drew her closer into his embrace.
Tell me what you want, Naomi…
*Didn't he just take it off before he walked in the room?