This story -original French title Apparences - belongs to Melzart, and Yu-Gi-Oh! is copyrighted to Kazuki Takahashi.
Chapter 16
Confessions
She was escaping already. So early.
Too early.
Nothing had really changed in her behavior towards him. Especially not when he thought about their volcanic feelings for each other – their bodies could not lie when they fused under the layers of sheets that covered his bed. The same sheets that henceforth were impregnated with Naomi's delicious fragrance. The one that made him raving mad, the one against which there was no hope of rebelling. Her body had become the sole idol that he venerated, when beforehand had believed himself to be a staunch atheist. There wasn't a day that he thought any differently.
There was not an hour, nay a minute, that went by with peace in his heart before he dreamt desperately of her.
It was shameful, a weakness, at every moment, and he was perfectly aware of that. It was just that he was the only guardian of that secret, hidden where nobody risked to attack or place their efforts in uncovering. However, every moment he battled against the kindness that disproportionally filled his heart and mind. It was terrifying if he thought about it, even making feel dazed with vertigo. Terrifying to feel such euphoria to such a totally irrational add-on to his life.
But after the difficult times of combat and fury, he felt himself to be sufficiently strong enough to forget the new invasion into his heart; he excelled in hoping that she wasn't there, that she didn't exist: that nothing had happened. That he hated when she toyed with him, doing as she pleased. Anything to get it over with so his monotone existence could make logical sense again, firm, reasonable.
In vain. She appeared before him again, and once again everything shattered. His eyes were blinded by the sweetness, the voluptuousness. Uselessly, he kept on fighting to keep control of his body and cease the furious shaking. But what good would that ever do? The war had been lost from the outset because every tender shiver whispered into his ear won its battle, and he fell back into the delights of her warmth.
Seto Kaiba had become a slave to his own passion.
Do you love life, Seto? Are you happy?
Although he would normally take offense at such impertinence, he had not grit his teeth; no storm had come from the sky to crash down around them. No tempest had arrived to thrust her into his whirlwind.
Nothing. There was barely a curling of the lips. He hadn't smiled, nor shouted, or even responded. Even if he knew the response perfectly well. Even if he still wouldn't admit it.
Did he like his life? Was he now completely and utterly satisfied?
Silence.
There was evidence that Naomi was already demonstrating a growing sense of autonomy. Dangerous, a precursor to a fragile and uncertain future.
A future which didn't seem so far away before.
Every day saw her efforts rewarded in fighting to advance even a foot further on the hard road to recovery. And at each step, she found more strength, diminishing in part the convalescence once destined to last. Yes. She was now squelching all predictions, including Kaiba's. Every day a new surprise was waiting for him when he stepped back over the threshold of his residence; that very morning Naomi had returned from a short walk under Mokuba's watchful eye, who had risen quite early to help her along. So it was that she was no longer relegated to taking baby steps in the immense hallways – he had to now run through the large outside paths, which he thought almost undoable, and full of dangers.
Since the day after Christmas, she had begun her routine of diverse physical exercises in order to strengthen the muscles in her leg. It was as practical as it was beneficial because she hardly limped anymore. It was if she had begun to run, surpassing her strengths, her boundaries.
She was slipping between his fingers, voluntarily a little further each time.
Honestly, Kaiba expected nothing less from her. He wouldn't permit himself to tell her that he was proud of her and that he had guessed, from the very first minute, that she was carved from the same stone that he was. But it was true that this exact moment that he was dreading most. It wasn't that she'd fall and wound herself further.
What he feared most, quite egotistically, was that she was recovering as quickly as she was.
Although he felt anger and frustration upon seeing her evade his vigilance, he couldn't deny the constant admiration that he felt for her.
But he was no fool before her pale smiles interspersed with long periods of silence; although Naomi was calm on the outside, every day he could feel the animosity that was preying upon her.
Definitively, the moment was approaching where he would have to put his plan into action.
Everything was in place; all that was needed was for the actors to take their places. Because he understood too well that she wouldn't leave him a choice.
But what about Mokuba?
He, too, had been a source of worry; although Seto kept himself (against his well) from full-out spying on him, he was horrid at trying to explain his excessive absences, sometimes in the mornings as well as the afternoons. What could he fabricate?
Yes – everything was slipping between his fingers.
It had become imperative that he take charge of his feelings, and seize once more the reins of the future in his hands.
Kaiba turned away from the computer, placed on his immense desk, and, leaning on the arm of his chair, let his eyes lose themselves in the multitude of buildings of the town which unveiled itself beneath his feet. High in this tower, one could believe that nothing could escape his piercing eye. Of course he could see quite far, and far below, miniscule shadows scuttling about. But none of them would have known how to distract him from his true preoccupation. Arms bent with his a fist under his chin, his attention soon deviated to an ice-like statue placed on the sill of the bay window; the perfect crystal effigy of his white dragon. Naomi's gift, which he had brought to his KaibaCorp office.
What could she be doing at this precise moment? Was Mokuba with her? Moreover, when would be the day that he would come home to find that she was no longer there?
The more time that passed, the more paramount it was to him to know whenever she came and left, down to the minute. Because he was certain – time was acting against him.
"Sadi!" he barked into the intercom.
"Yes, sir?"
"I'm going home for the rest of the day."
. . . . . . . . .
"Come on! Please?" Mokuba cried, dragging her by the hand towards the living room.
Mokuba truly had a big heart – overflowing with contagious enthusiasm. Which never failed to make her grin.
"Can't it – "
But he interrupted her on the spot.
"NO! I want you to see my big brother and the band and Yugi… you have to know who they are. You'll see, Seto's a great duelist!"
She was going to object again, but gave up when faced with his over-excited expression.
"Alright, alright. Just let me make a phone call first, okay?"
He acquiesced with no trouble to her condition, as he had just won quite easily. Besides, it allowed him to prepare the video in the meantime.
"Hello, Naomi! You're doing better, I hope?" inquired the voice on the other end of the line, Mrs. Kinoshi, director of the orphanage.
"Yes, thank you," Naomi replied. "Tell me, is everything getting along fine down there? No changes?"
"No, ma'am. Except that the children are very eager to see you again."
Naomi breathed a sigh of relief. Although the worry didn't leave entirely, she felt far more comforted all the same.
"Oh yes, I'm very eager to see them all also," she told her smiling, thinking of all of the small children. "I should come by in a couple of days and start up my normal visitation schedule again."
"Really? So soon? I'm so delighted. And I'm not the only one."
"Thank you. How is Molina?"
"She's very well. It's just that she misses you a lot. She even spoke about you some this morning."
"Great. Try not to spoil the surprise."
"Yes, it'd be my pleasure. You take care."
As soon as she hung up Naomi gave another long sigh of relief. That bad feeling still hadn't left her, and had been there since that one famous morning when she woke up covered in sweat. But contrary to all of her beliefs, nothing had happened which could confirm that nasty omen.
. . . . . . . . .
"Good, okay. This is one of Seto's latest duels," Mokuba said, totally hooked on his brother.
It was completely insane how he could be so proud, be such a fervent admirer, of his older sibling.
"That guy right there, Siegfried, not only was he an idiot but he was also psycho. Remember? He sabotaged KaibaCorp's entire new information system in KaibaLand just to get to Seto. He's really crazy."
"Why did he do that?"
"Well… just guess! He wanted what they all want! Take control of KaibaCorp. Everyone's constantly attacking Seto to wrench it out of his hands. It's crazy. Ever since he's been the head of that company, I 've gotta say he hasn't had much of a break. Yeah, he works really hard. Especially just to keep it. They can't see everything he's accomplished or his merit. They think, incorrectly, that because he's young he's incompetent and an easy victim. You get it? So my brother was always forced to be strong. He has to be feared to be respected. It's a matter of survival."
"It's just that all they see in him is a businessman and the all-powerful CEO of a large company," Naomi replied, filled with a certain compassion and recognizing Kaiba's need to be so brave so often.
"Anyway, he stuck it to Siegfried by humiliating him on international television. He was cruel but hardly did anything. I think he did well. That bastard got what he deserved."
Bastard? Oh, Mokuba, your bother would really get mad at you for that, remember?
But Naomi kept this commentary to herself, despite her itch to burst out laughing.
Again, he was caught up in his joy.
"Oh! There's Yugi!"
She recognized the young man with the tri-colored hair that had been at the front door Christmas morning with no problem.
"OH! And there's Joey, his best friend… and Tristan, and Duke… and that's Téa. Téa's really nice. A great gal… WAIT, that's Seto against Ishizu Ishtar!"
Ishtar? Is –
The woman that was Kaiba's adversary was dressed like an Egyptian priestess; a long white dress and a veil wrapped around her head. She was swarthy in color, and her very blue eyes shone brilliantly in Kaiba's direction.
"She's the reason Seto made the entire tournament," Mokuba admitted, unconscious of the impact that his words were having.
"Oh," Naomi whispered very quietly as she felt her cheeks redden slightly in agitation.
It was so stupid.
How could it have been possible, naively, to think for a single instant that Kaiba had sat around without absolutely anyone to spend time with before he met her?
How was it humanly possible to imagine that a simple woman would have been capable of resisting his maddening charm and his oceanic eyes, his touch, his will?
Could there reasonably any one woman who would deny having ever felt anything in his presence?
Seto Kaiba was a man. With his wants and wishes. Just like any other human being.
It was idiotic to believe that his life had begun because of her.
Stupid to think that she was the first, the only one, the unique girl to carve a path into his body and his mind.
Completely and surrealistically stupid.
But…
Even though she didn't let him see it in full, Mokuba could still plainly see her reaction which he maladroitely found some sort of pride in doing.
It seemed to him as if she were annoyed, piqued by the affirmation. He knew that her reaction came from the pure domain of her feelings.
He purposefully chose to rid her of the worry.
"Oh," he said, hiding a smile. "It's not what you think it is."
She tilted her head slightly, trying to ward off a sense of boredom.
"But I can't be the judge of that. Your brother's private life has nothing to do with me!"
"Yeah, right, you're his girlfriend, aren't you?"
His girlfriend?
"What?"
If she weren't able to control herself she probably would have choked on the profusion of her own thoughts in her surprise.
"Well. I think," he said, this time with some hesitation. It certainly had the appearance of being so to him.
I… no… well… I… don't know. What a funny idea… so he sees me like that…? she thought.
A confused silence settled between the two.
"What I was trying to say was that nothing was going on between them. It was professional. Seto started up the tournament at her request because she offered him a rare and ultra-powerful card. It was a promise he kept. That's all."
Am I supposed to be relieved with that?
Oh… what am I saying? It still has nothing to do with me anyway. Besides, it's probably been years since… well, it's far behind him.
You're just jealous.
No I'm not!
Oh, don't worry, it's not what you think – Moki said it himself, didn't he?
Just shut up! It's none of my business!
"Naomi?"
Not my business!
"Hm?" she replied, emerging from her reverie.
"You understand, right? She was never anything to him. Not even a friend… I guess I didn't really explain that right."
Grr… you're going to leave me with that?
It's none of my business!
"And I'm going to say again that it's none of my business, Mokuba," she insisted gravely, cutting off the question entirely as if letting go some insupportable weight to drop into the sea.
Strange. Her behavior had changed, hardened up very rapidly.
But he could have sworn that he saw all of the signs of jealousy on her face.
"She did everything she could to knock Seto off balance during that duel," he continued.
Knock him off balance? How, by wearing a coat?
Just knock it off! Nothing was going on!
Pff… what do I have to do to do that?
It's none of my business, none of my business –
"Yeah, she pretended that she had the power to see the future and wouldn't stop telling my brother that the end was near. It unnerved Seto so much he began to think it wasn't nonsense. All that stuff was just bullshit. Besides, he beat her anyway."
On the screen, Kaiba was making fun of his adversary with all of the hatred he was humanly capable of mustering, confirming to Naomi that there was no reason to suspect anything. Apparently he was indifferent to her.
But it had all angered her anyway… a fraction of a second –
It's none of my business! Isn't there anything else on this damned video?
"Oh yeah, this is the final between Yugi and – " Mokuba was shouting as he fast-forwarded the tape.
Upon seeing Yugi's adversary, Naomi, although relieved that the episode concerning Ishizu was over, had frozen right back up like a statue; her eyes had widened, marking a certain surprise, and her mouth hung open.
He was also quite tanned himself, his eyes like lilac shadows, curiously darkened with rage, his hair ruffled and standing straight up, the color of ivory.
"….Marik," she murmured very quietly, as if remembering something.
"Yeah, that's Marik Ishtar, Ishizu's brother, do you know him?" Mokuba responded immediately, on top of her reactions.
Earth to Naomi. Come back.
"Hunh?"
"Do you know him?" Mokuba repeated, aware that something was off.
"Er… not really. We met a long time ago," she succeeded in admitting nonchalantly. Besides, there was nothing suspicious about that fact.
"Really?"
This time, she had piqued Mokuba's curiosity.
She had said too much to stop, but not enough to satisfy him.
"Er. Yeah. In Greece," she admitted in good faith, refusing to lie to him and acting as if it were all just natural.
"WHOA! You've been to Greece?"
"Yes. But I was just there for a few weeks."
"Okay, so that's where you met each other?"
… 'met' ?
"Er… yeah."
I don't know why but I think this isn't a really good conversation topic. It does have to do with me this time, after all…
"I've never been there. What's it like?" Mokuba demanded again.
Why do I feel like he studies what I tell him? Is he working for his brother or something?
He certainly wasn't white as snow with innocence.
But it was certain also that he wasn't entirely mal-intentioned. His curiosity pushed him to ask.
"… very, very pretty. And very old, also," she said again, starting to play along.
Whoa! She knows Marik… I wonder if Seto knows that. Well, it looks like it's a small world after all.
"He wasn't really all that nice during the tournament," he ended up admitting a bit ashamedly.
"How so?"
"Er… well, let's just say he was picking for a fight with the other duelists. Especially Yugi. He also had a really rare card so Seto let him into the tournament because he was counting on winning it from him. It ended up being a difficult time for pretty much everyone."
Marik? Picking fights?
But that's just not like him.
The way she remembered him, Marik was probably one of the most courteous and respectful men she had ever met. One sole time she had had the opportunity to see his soft expression become tainted by a menacing storm; his fury was so great that she had trembled in fear. She could have sworn that not even a demon from hell could be more frightening. No. Never could she forget that one black glare. But it wasn't addressed to her. On the contrary; he had, in fact, been referring to his own inner demons. He would fight them, if he were able.
So what had happened between the time when they had met and the time of that tournament?
She had first met him when he had quite a large weight on his shoulders, that much she knew for sure, but he had kept silent and respected her own silence. He was a really nice guy.
She again heard the distant echoing of his voice, soft and conciliatory as he murmured to her, admitting:
I have done things that I am not very proud of… but I have to say that I wasn't entirely myself…
She had never before sought beyond those words. A sin told is a sin half-forgiven, as the saying goes.
What's more, it was not her that was seeking absolution. He had never done anything to her.
Naomi's eyes never unglued themselves from the screen, riveted on Marik.
Maybe this is what he was talking about… I don't know.
One thing was for certain; the mostly unpleasant description that she had just heard was nothing like the guy she once knew.
Yet… if she were to trust a combination of hearsay and appearances, wouldn't Kaiba have been the first one she would have forgotten to have ever met?
You have to dig a little on the surface sometimes to find what lays shining beneath.
Same thing for Marik. Didn't he have the right, too, to doubt and to a dash of clemency?
Then again, Seto was frankly impossible to get along with.
It had been horrifying to watch him trample his adversaries and then ridicule them, pushed above all by self-importance and then his insatiable need to win.
Absolutely nothing in common with the man who so tenderly opened his arms for her.
Yet it was exactly the Seto Kaiba she had heard spoken about. She recognized in his videos the bloodthirsty and execrable being of victory, the almost maleficent creature as everyone claimed he was without actually knowing him. To her own eyes, she saw all of the hate, the spite, and disgust which inspired him against these human beings with whom he so rarely socialized.
All of this… to win?
How could she blame him with what she knew now? Wasn't it the greatest lesson that could have been drilled into him, what he must have learned best?
I hate this house so much.
Yes. You do.
Kaiba was giving his opponent, Yugi Motou, a good run for his money. He had summoned a titanic white dragon which she recognized on the spot.
Worse – he couldn't stop taunting the young man in front of him.
Something quite unusual passed across Yugi's face, who, apparently, didn't fear any of Kaiba's antics.
"…Yugi… is he your friend?"
"Yeah. I like Yugi and the gang. Seto doesn't like them though and keeps as far away as possible. Oh well…"
"Why?"
"Pshht. My brother… doesn't go out looking for friends. He's solitary, and gets by fine that way… but I think he likes them, too," he continued, letting a sly grin spread across his face.
"I don't know," she muttered again, unable to keep all of her attention from not focusing on the strange young man with what must have been a multi-colored wig. "There's something… strange about him."
Mokuba was surprised by Naomi's perspicacity. It was true that Yugi was quite bizarre and that was probably a part of his charm, once he thought about it. But he shared Naomi's curiosity, as he paused the tape, freezing on the screen the portrait of the young man.
"Yeah… you're right… I'm gonna tell you something about him. Maybe that'll help you understand more," he admitted with a half-laugh.
Naomi shot a glance at Mokuba, seeing a good joke used in place of a real confession as only a true Kaiba was able – dripping with sarcasm.
But she had to submit to the evidence that Mokuba was not at all interested in making fun of the young champion.
"There's something really weird about him, yeah. Well, lemme try to explain. You see that upside-down pyramid around his neck? Well, that's a puzzle. It's a really really old object which supposedly comes from Egypt. His grandpa found it on some dig with some friends."
"Really?"
Naomi almost salivated at the allusion. Wasn't she love-struck with practically anything having to do with antiquity?
Mokuba was now the center of all of her attention.
"Yeah…" he began again. "Well, apparently there's this really old spirit in the puzzle. It helps Yugi with his every thought… it helps and guides him. That's what his friends say, anyway."
. . . . . . . . .
"Yes," Marik sighed in a half-smile before the unabashed curiosity of the young woman. "I have to go meet a very old friend. I have a message for him."
She gently returned his smile even though she had no idea what he was talking about.
"It's for him," he said again, flicking his head in reference to his back.
"Oh, and couldn't you think of anything nicer, like, oh, I don't know, pen and paper?" she wanted to mock him, to lighten the atmosphere.
Marik – although a certain serenity visibly enveloped his person – grimaced at the memory of the day when they had "given" him those hieroglyphs.
"It's not that simple, Naomi."
Which made her silent, as if she had perfectly guessed the pain that those scars brought back to him. Then she had sighed too loudly, prey to a manifest anger.
"He at least understands, right?"
She remained of the opinion that there had to be a more orthodox method of message delivery.
She was still gorgeous when she was angry.
Marik remained hypnotized by her eyes, filled with shadow.
"I don't know. Maybe."
Then he smiled again.
"Is he Egyptian?"
She was offended.
What sensible human being would find no remorse in tattooing into the skin of a young child? Just to relay a message?
"Yes. He has a very ancient soul," he admitted again, but this time he wasn't sure if she was actually listening.
"Ancient soul?"
What?
. . . . . . . . .
It didn't take Kaiba very long to find their hiding-place. From the entrance hall, he could easily hear the television blaring, and as he stepped closer, their voices.
That's not true. Mokuba… he didn't dare?
But there was nothing to be ashamed of. And Kaiba would never have approved of such a sentiment. He knew what he had done, and how he had done it, and he understood why. But coming from a third party, did he have the right to exhort the same comprehension without judging himself too severely and maybe even simply rejection?
What was Naomi going to think about him now that she had discovered his egocentrism in full swing?
Grr…
But he would not have the slightest shed of remorse. Whether she understood or not.
"Fine, okay, I get that there are monster cards, spells, traps… and fusions and sacrifices… I get that. But really, Moki, I really don't care beyond that."
"Why? I'm sure you'd become a great duelist! And Seto would have lots of fun playing you, I know it."
"I think Seto has other things to do, don't you think?" she pressed, trying not to laugh at Mokuba's insistence.
At least she was in a good humor – a good sign.
Kaiba couldn't hold back his sigh of relief just before mustering the tiny amount of courage necessary to join them.
So… how long had it been since he had touched even a single card in his deck? Years. More than three, to be precise. Mokuba had those ideas sometimes – so many and so often Kaiba wondered when he would finally grow up.
But his kid brother wasn't the most annoying person he knew, of course. Every day he cherished all of the affection his brother bestowed upon him. It was the most important thing he had.
. . . . . . . . .
Could it just be a simple coincidence?
How is it possible? Can it be true?
Naomi stayed silent, as if she were hypnotized by the practically burlesque story, her eyes nailed to the television.
But… it's true that there's something odd about that kid…
Marik's voice was again ringing fresh in her ears.
A very ancient soul.
"Yeah, that's what they say. It seems to be among the many reasons why nobody has ever beaten him in a duel before. And they say that that spirit… what's even more crazy is that it's supposed to be the soul of an ancient pharaoh who lived thousands of years ago."
A very ancient soul.
Was it…?
"Pff," Kaiba suddenly interrupted, having been listening to them with arms crossed behind the sofa for more than a couple of moments now. "That's all nonsense, Mokuba. The truth is, Yugi has some sort of very debilitating multiple personality disorder. I even offered him a psychologist's services once."
Naomi had flinched at his approach, having been exclusively focused on Mokuba recount the quite bizarre story.
"But Seto…" Mokuba whined.
"Mokuba, don't tell me that they managed to brainwash my little brother."
"Er…. of course not! Why – "
"Be quiet," Kaiba cut him off playfully.
Don't stop. There is something strange about him.
Not everything is in black and white…
Naomi kept her gaze on the screen for another long moment.
There are irrational and immaterial things that cannot be explained. But knowing which are true and which are not – voila what was the most difficult to comprehend.
Of course, for Kaiba there was no question at all because if it couldn't be explained it didn't exist and had no reason to be discussed. Everything was orderly in his mind – well, almost everything. The only thing he allowed himself to doubt, to be a novice in, consisted of the sentiments he felt for the woman currently seated on the couch. It was concrete, but immaterial. It couldn't be explained. But it was true.
But for Naomi, there were zones of gray between the white and the black. Maybe between the true and the false. A large open door between the real and the inconceivable. Souls wandering between fantasy and reality.
Nothing is absolutely a truth or a lie. There exist shades between them. Even air is best at a temperature between sweltering and polar cold.
Not everything is apparent, or can be heard, or can be said.
Nothing is exactly what it seems.
"That's enough, Mokuba. I think Naomi's seen enough – and stop trying to fill her mind with all that crap."
"But, Seto," he wanted to respond. Yet faced with his brother's annoyed glare, his mouth shut as soon as it had opened.
Naomi easily detected a note of irritation in Kaiba's voice. There was even a hint of worry.
But why?
Sure, she had had plenty of time to see what he was capable of.
She hadn't made any comment on the matter, however.
Even her voice did not quaver when it addressed him.
Kaiba felt reassured.
The way she looked at him did not differ from her normal tender look.
In a way, he knew, she understood.
. . . . . . . . .
"Mind telling me where you're going, young man?" asked Kaiba, addressing his little brother who had went to put on a coat in the entrance hall. "I thought we were going to spend a little time together. I would have liked that."
Mokuba felt deeply remorseful upon seeing the slightly disappointed face of his older sibling.
"Oh," he said. "Sorry, Seto. But I made a promise and I have to keep it."
A promise? To whom? Tell me, Mokuba. You know you can tell me anything, right?
"And that requires you to leave?"
"Er, yeah. Sorry."
He noticed Kaiba's curious eyes.
"I can't talk to you about it right now."
Can't talk to me about it? What's that supposed to mean?
Kaiba took a step back in a half-stagger. He quickly regained control of himself, however. He would never look weak or hesitant in front of his little brother.
"You know that I always find out the truth, Mokuba."
The comment, formulated with the greatest of veracity, made a mocking smile appear on Mokuba's lips.
"Er… yeah, I know, big brother."
"So… you still won't tell me what you're up to these days?"
Seto knew how to act so perspicacious that it became almost irritating. Mokuba would never want to become his enemy.
"No. I'm really sorry, Seto, but I made a promise."
Kaiba was crazily proud of his younger brother. If there was just one person in the world who understood the full meaning of the word promise, it would definitely be him.
That's what stopped his investigation from moving further along. The respect that the word entailed sufficed for him.
Although Mokuba had nothing to fear from his actions, he wasn't about to stop him.
"Very well," he said.
I am so proud of you, little brother. Do what you must, then.
"Kiss Naomi for me, 'kay?"
In one gesture he swung open the door and swung across the mantle when he suddenly stopped.
"Oh, by the way, Seto…"
"Hm?"
Kaiba turned back towards him, totally attentive.
"Did you know that Naomi know Marik… Ishtar? Were you aware?"
Kaiba could barely prevent a bitter and furious roar from bursting out of him. Little was stopping him from recoiling into the back wall and melting into it. No, he did not know.
"What?"
The shock – brutal, unexpected.
Uh… I guess I shouldn't have mentioned it…
Kaiba's reaction made Mokuba sincerely regret having opened his mouth.
It was like a concrete block had fallen on top of his head, and it couldn't have had a bigger impact.
What?
Kaiba's face was flooded with so many emotions that Mokuba doubt that he could remember the order in which they came. Everything that had happened - the anger and deception, boredom and worry, rage and uncertainty. Anything that was humanly dislikable.
He even had the time to see the same face become almost scarlet before finding its normal white tinge again.
Seto was raked with a profound irritation. So much so that he thought for a second he'd stop breathing.
Just like that.
Again he could feel his brother's power – Kaiba had rapidly chased away all envenomed demonstration of his fury to recover once more his expression eternally devoid of emotions. Pure impassability.
However, Mokuba knew. Kaiba wanted to know.
"…apparently, they met in Greece a few years ago…"
Grr… Ishtar? No! It's not possible.
Kaiba looked away, preferring instead to see what was beyond the windowpane.
He had to fight to hide what was animating him now.
"It's possible," he said in a falsely indifferent tone, "that Naomi could have travelled widely, I believe."
Of course she had travelled. But where, and with whom, was none of his business. But…
Indifferent?
He was anything but.
Grr… did he…? No. Naomi? And him? Grr… did they…?
No. Anything but that.
You weren't there, Kaiba.
Exactly! And I shouldn't know! No! I DON'T WANT TO KNOW!
If this was about somebody else, that would be true. Admit that you're dying to –
Grr… this can't be true.
Curious? You SHOULD know.
No!
This has nothing to do with me… besides, it's been years…
GRR!
What's the matter with me?
I'm going to kill him.
GRR!
Wham. Boom - Demolish.
Kaiba felt his fists clench hard, as if they were hunting for a target to tear to shreds.
Wow… this really isn't good. I guess I should just scram.
Mokuba was not quite proud of himself at that exact moment. He knew that he had accidentally added fuel to the flames.
Maybe it's not so bad, after all.
At the same time, it was just so comical.
He had never before seen his brother react so quickly and violently to a simple inconsequential fact, true. Seto couldn't hope to be unrivalled and the only one Naomi had ever liked.
Or maybe he didn't know that he was the first?
What could anger him this badly?
Wasn't what he was vainly hiding just some sort of jealousy crisis?
Yes. Now that he thought it over, it was amusing to watch them turn in circles looking and pushing and having all the trouble in the world in finding each other.
As soon as he had closed the door behind him, Mokuba let a happy smile cross his face at the thought that maybe those two people, too wrapped up, probably lacked the words to establish what most people called a 'heart-to-heart'.
So he was going to give them the ideal pretext at least.
He was about to pass underneath the gate when again he stopped in his tracks, this time to stop himself from laughing at the crazy idea that crossed his mind.
Maybe I went a little too far. Seto really wasn't happy…
I hope everything works out okay.
What if they fight, and it's my fault?
Argh! No, no. Seto likes her. I know it. He wouldn't dare.
Boohoo. I'm such a little monster!
Besides – I'm no longer home!