This story, under its original title Apparances, is property of Melzart, and the Yu-Gi-Oh! Franchise is property of Kazuki Takahashi.
Chapter 18
The Time of Innocence
Part II
She stared for a long moment into Kaiba's face, searching for what the brusque and irascible attitude meant; she could easily sense him fighting to keep himself internally calm and to not fall victim to the rage that was wracking him. He was still trembling, however, his attempt occurring with some difficulty.
But the shivering did not fool Naomi, whose hairs had stood on end all at once in a single cold wave.
Kaiba had never previously attempted to demystify her past, having respect for her person and her identity, to such an extent that she wondered if he even knew her last name, having strangely never called her by anything other than her first.
Courageously, she turned to face him as he stood there, less than three feet away, arms crossed. Waiting.
She was first of all too stunned to know exactly how to react to such a brusque swing in attitudes. Then, panic ceding into worry, her body had temporarily paralyzed before the posture that he had adopted, tall and menacing all at once.
She had almost thought for a seemingly interminable instant that something had happened to Mokuba and that he was trying, in his shock, to warn her. A sign that he would need support, even comforting.
But there was no longer any doubt that that hypothesis had been duly rejected.
"You're sure nothing's wrong with Mokuba, right?" she insisted again, attempting to revalidate her conclusions.
She sputtered, with a pronounced anxiety.
Which, strangely, had the effect of setting Kaiba off-guard, who blinked slightly at the amount of apprehension she had.
What? She's worried about Mokuba?
For a fraction of a second Naomi could have sworn that she saw a flash of recognition shoot across his eyes. Yet he did not yield for long, gathering himself back together just as speedily.
"Yes," he replied dryly but also as if readying to turn away his gaze, profoundly touched by her inquisitive zeal.
She held back another sigh of relief; nothing worse could afflict a Kaiba. Although she wasn't reassured all that much.
There was still that oppressive feeling circling less than a foot above her head.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked again in a tone which almost stupidly invoked a request for forgiveness, as if she had something that she needed to be pardoned for.
Wrong?
Kaiba held himself back from flinching slightly, faced with the futility of such a rage in his breast.
No, nothing wrong, not that… but…
His insatiable curiosity ordered him to leave nothing to chance, forcing him to play the tough guy.
"I don't know. Maybe," he affirmed in a monotone, almost as if he were simultaneously searching to admit to her past crimes he knew were completely nonexistent.
She shook her head, eyes filled with disappointment.
What are you trying to get at?
What was he trying to tell her? Had she already said something that could wound him or somehow cause him trouble?
No. She had nothing to be ashamed of.
"Let's talk about Marik Ishtar," he said again, more conviction in his voice, his arms crossing even tighter.
The simple question took the allure of a veritable command – he was not asking, he was demanding.
The fact took her a long second before she came out of her torpor. She had thought, given his terrible expression, that something horrible had happened before he had even entered the room. Only now nothing could justify his behavior any longer.
If not, he was trying to immerse himself, wrongly, into her past and her private life.
After all, wasn't she simply a guest? Okay, fine, a guest that the two brothers thought of quite highly. A particular guest who shared her host's bed. Which meant something.
But first and foremost, she was still simply a guest; one which comes, stays a while, and knows full well that the hour of departure was sprinting towards them. Everything has an ending. Which, of course, she hadn't managed to yet tell Kaiba, if she ever would.
He had no right to impose himself upon her in this manner. No right to think for a single moment that she had become his plaything, his exclusive toy, despite all of the appearances.
This time, more and more annoyed by the turn of events, Naomi simply turned around to clothe herself in her underwear with a sudden sense of modesty, as if she were faced with a complete stranger that she had met the previous night.
Kaiba shivered at the sight of her naked body and had to even close his eyes to prevent himself from being overtaken by another sudden spurt of desire. Even his anger seemed to disappear from his being, showing once more the torturous weakness that plagued him.
So much so that if he hadn't restrained himself he would have forgotten everything and seized her in his arms – forgotten that maybe at that instant the idea to possess her would only have gotten worse under the negative influence of the fury which animated him. She never would have liked it, not more than he did actually – being the prey to an animal instinct, primitive and savage.
However, to stop all the bad events from occurring and to drag Naomi out of the mausoleum which her mind had become, he would have shaken her like a maraca, hoping to knock her back to her senses.
For an instant Seto Kaiba was terrified by his own thoughts; he was so repulsed by his own violence that a bitter disgust rose up through his mouth as if he would puke. He even believed the room to be spinning around him.
However, he could never manage to cause her even the slightest bit of harm.
Then he finally took control of himself.
Grr… look at me when I'm speaking to you, Naomi… I hate it when you do that…
The tension inside of him must have been quite contagious, as he perceived a certain irritation in Naomi's eyes as she turned around to face him again. Moreover – and this was quite rare – he noticed a sudden redness on the young woman's face, a sign that she was far less patient or tolerant of this interrogation.
He remembered the only time that he had seen that type of reaction before; the very first night that they had met when she was trying to rid herself of Mr. Kinomoto, an action which eventually made him feel obliged to come to her aid. He had then felt such a force emanating from her that he had stayed nailed to the floor where he was.
But the crisis was no longer very far way. The same one he secretly feared; he had understood that the risks were enormous when he placed his hand on the doorknob. Despite his curiosity, he would have infinitely preferred to avoid the quarrel which was now floating in the air waiting to be snatched down. But alas: he had walked in.
It was too late to back out now.
It was not a question of whether he would let her intimidate him so easily. Nor was it a question that she lie to him, or that the responses that she was to furnish satisfy him completely. But she should not forget that he was incapable of saying enough in the little time remaining where she was still under his roof.
"Yes, I knew Marik."
Kaiba's heart suddenly froze in his chest. He would have preferred that she lie to him, that all of this have been some sort of large misunderstanding.
Apparently Naomi was showing no signs of weakness, or of any sort of remorse. On the contrary.
As if the question were merely trivial, she continued:
"So what?"
Why do you care? Besides, what could you possibly want, Seto?
Strange.
Now that he was certain of the veracity of the fact, at least in theory, he found himself speechless despite the feeling of urgency to dig deeper. All of the questions were rattling about inside of his head as he desperately tried to hide the fury which was consuming him to the point he could believe he could smash his fist into any object in the room. Anything but…
At least she admitted it. So she isn't lying. Calm down, Kaiba. Just wait and see.
No. He would never dare lay a finger on her.
Anybody else would have fallen to their knees to beg for forgiveness, doubting the worst of his wrath. But she didn't budge an inch. She did not fear Seto Kaiba. He would not forget it.
She continued to clothe herself in peace in the complete silence.
She seemed to be resolved to keep to herself, to not push the discussion any farther.
So he was obliged to insist.
"For how long?"
She was already tired of their game of cat and mouse, sighing loudly as she shot him a look.
"Not for a while. But a long time ago."
There. She had said it. Even if she still didn't know exactly why or for what purpose she should respond.
A long time ago? I doubt that.
"And…" he pressed dryly.
Don't continue, Seto. Don't. Don't ask any more questions. You have no right to, she thought as she turned her back to him again to walk over to the window.
"Was he… your lover?"
Naomi almost jumped at the question; she had never imagined that he would ask her that question.
So that's what's so interesting to him… about Marik.
A short silence fell between them again. But she soon felt disconcerted by the vulgarity of his insistence.
"Did you sleep with Marik Ishtar?"
What!
Seto was trying as hard as possible to come across as impassible. However, the quivering of his voice betrayed him slightly. He simply didn't fully realize how such words could come out of his own mouth.
How had they reached this point? Everything had been going along so well.
Exactly – too well, maybe.
And if she was looking within herself for a reason to reject the question painlessly, it was certainly a good time to summon all of the elements that she needed. That way he could not hold her back. Then he would back off, once and for all.
To forget that she could not lie – to forget that he'd find out, one way or another. He would guess.
Kaiba stayed motionless, as if on the receiving end of an enormous slap across the face that he could not find the proper emotion to react with.
Then suddenly there was complete darkness. A total eclipse.
Seto Kaiba fell into the deep abyss of his own madness, his mind fleeing his body.
What could he do against a past and its invisible components, those famous well-hidden gremlins tucked far underneath Naomi's flesh? She had deserved none of this, not anymore than she deserved his maligned rage.
However, all of a sudden, nothing was so simple anymore; he remembered perfectly well of all of the evil of the infernal creature which inhabited Marik's body as well as all of the damage that he had caused during the very short time that they had been acquainted during the Battle City tournament. And it was the never-ending series of questions which fluttered around behind his back: had he concocted some sort of plan to surreptitiously attack the susceptible, beautiful creature before him?
Was Seto Kaiba being fooled like some little kid?
What if Naomi had slept with that monster and they had decided upon a plan – lowly, disloyal – for the purpose of taking his company or attacking him? He was accustomed to the attempts. Except he never would have seen this one coming.
Was it possible that she had secretly communicated with him this entire time, right under his nose, and that he had seen absolutely nothing, too blinded by his strong feelings that he had for her?
Or maybe – what he feared most – that she could find the slightest bit of affection, her most simple of desires, even physical ones, in a man other than himself?
In either case, there were more questions than there were answers.
No. It wasn't possible. She never would have played him the fool in such a grandiose, unpleasant fashion, deprived of all scruples. Besides, wasn't the basis of his attraction cemented in the fact that she always sought to distance herself, despite all that he did to pull her closer?
Again the threat of her departure hung heavy in the surrounding air. Today more than ever.
The idea seemed carelessly tossed, like any other. It was a completely illogical and irrational thing. Then again, she never seemed interested in his fucking company or what his salary was. Not even his bank account.
No, he had to look for answers in a completely different domain.
What could possibly bring them back together?
It was a nightmare. And he was swimming in the middle of it.
"Answer me, Naomi!" he shouted, about ready to lose control.
If she were afraid, even just a smidge, she should be white with fear.
. . . . . . . . .
He had to seem completely foolish, like some first-timer; his lips stayed hovering in the air, aimed towards an invisible object, and his eyes were still closed. He had seen nothing, felt nothing except the slight breeze made as Naomi quickly scrambled to stand.
Why must she slip away? Why had she not given him the kiss he sorely wanted?
He thought for a fraction of a second that he had won.
Perhaps he had forgotten that she did not share his exact sentiments.
She seemed at least to appreciate him, trust him perhaps, to a certain extent. But beyond that point he would have sworn nothing.
He had to fight to not show his disappointment, to close up his manly desire as far inside of him as possible.
But Marik was a good sport, rising himself now to join her on her way back towards the small inn where they had been staying for several days.
After all, Greece had not yet unearthed all of her secrets… such as Naomi.
And it seemed to him, on a whim, that he must be among the most patient of men…
. . . . . . . . .
This time, Naomi whirled around, outraged by Kaiba's remark. Her eyes were brimming with anger.
Again she did not seek to excuse herself or to appease Seto's rage.
"Why? You think that'd make me some sort of whore? Is that it?"
Kaiba violently took a step backwards.
No… that's not…
Everything had gone too far. And what had thus far contained him was now centering on the fact that he suddenly didn't wish to know anymore.
In a half-whisper, he attempted to rectify himself slightly, seeing as the damage had already been done.
"That's not what I meant."
Was it too far for excuses?
Seto Kaiba, capable of excusing himself? Yes, but not this time, despite all the rules he had broken to get here. Actions, words he never would have believed himself capable of asking or saying. To anyone.
And despite the fact that a part of himself was ashamed, he did not pay it any mind.
"Well, that's certainly what you insinuated!" she snapped back at once.
No. No. Not this. Stop, Naomi!...
If he hadn't decided to be so strong, he would have covered his ears with his hands like a child being reprimanded too harshly. Instead, his fists curled, and he forbade himself from glancing away.
He was the instigator of this dispute. So he felt justified in suffering the consequences. Even if nothing was outwardly wrong.
It was vital, like always, to never let anything show.
"Who the hell do you think I am? Do you honestly think you have the right to reach into people's private lives and do whatever the hell you want? And then fucking judge them? What the hell do you want from me?"
What could he do now?
He had not betrayed the truth. And he had never before told anybody what it was.
"Nothing," he hissed between his teeth, half insane with rage against himself for his indiscretion in thinking that Marik profited off of Naomi's naïveté.
At the moment, he was certain, she felt vulnerable. Nothing that could have happened was entirely his fault. He knew that too well.
But did she know that?
It was just that she didn't deserve to be judged so severely, like some sort of criminal.
He couldn't put aside the hypothesis – or the demi-truth – that he had probably pushed things too far between them.
The main question that he was asking himself now was whether he should count on what he had discovered. What had they changed, really?
There had always been a few bitches in his existence; but she had never asked anything of him, never reproached him.
So.
Naomi had purposefully cloistered herself in silence once more; she was greatly insulted, her eyes boring a hole in the glass as they stared into the courtyard on the other side.
As if reading the quietude, he easily guessed everything that the ivory glare meant. She was already so far away. As he had suspected. As he had known for such a long time already.
As he had always known.
You idiot!
Didn't he just give her the perfect excuse to slip further between his fingers?
It seemed that the best thing to do now was to retreat. At least, it was the smartest idea. It at least gave him time to pull himself together and decide upon a more efficient strategy to bring things back to a state of calm.
"Fine," he breathed as he whirled around for the door, an action which made no impact upon Naomi, whose anger had not yet subsided.
It was becoming clear that the time of departure was approaching faster than ever before. There was no mistaking it: Kaiba was unsatisfied, and was looking to learn as much as he felt that he needed to know.
The problem was that there was nothing to know. At least, nothing that could touch him any more closely than anything else could. Everyone has their secrets that they keep well-engrained inside of their minds, and Kaiba was certainly no exception to the rule.
But such a violent reaction spoke for itself.
Kaiba was furious. She didn't doubt that. But why? Was it because Marik was a member of the group he classified as his eternal enemies, or was it only… a strand of… was it humanly possible that Kaiba was…
Jealous?
Of a man? Of a memory?
It was stupid – impossible, irrational, as he had no rival.
But had she fully grasped the entire meaning of his feelings?
Maybe not.
Hadn't Mokuba pretended that she was his "girlfriend"?
Yet she was still awestruck by such behavior. At the same time, she was troubled. Moved that he could possess for her such strong feelings, also, far more powerful than she had previously believed.
After all… hadn't she shown some irritation upon Ishizu, Marik's sister, when Mokuba forwarded the tape? Of course she wouldn't say it out loud. She wouldn't admit it.
And that fact suddenly and quite violently tore the wind out of her.
Not even him…
I was blind. He wasn't judging me. He wanted to know… be reassured… that I still felt for him… oh, my god…
As she reflected, the truth appeared more and more to align with that description.
Kaiba was a very seductive man, if not irresistible.
So strong, so powerful.
But – and this is what made her smirk slightly – filled with insecurity.
But that couldn't last. It wasn't supposed to be taken further.
Sooner or later she would pass under the doorframe of the entrance once and for all and never return. It was inevitable.
So what good was it to entertain the idea of some sort of intimate relationship anyway? Didn't he already know enough?
He knew what he needed to know.
Perhaps even too much.
Her eyes soon wandered over to the armoire. She should find everything necessary of hers there that Kaiba had recovered from her hotel room.
It was beautiful outside. Even if it was a tad chilly. Even if the pain would still shoot up her sides. She had seen others before.
She knew that she could survive.
She moved forwards to open it, readying herself to grab the first suitcase that she could find, when her hand hesitated on the knob and she froze in place.
Although she hated this house, owing to the somber memories of the two brothers, she couldn't help but think that for the first time in her life, it was good to live somewhere. A place where she was wanted, and where she was safe.
Seto's arms kept her locked in a vice.
At least Seto Kaiba treated her like a human being.
So why should she flee again?
Why couldn't destiny be more clement for once? Just once.
No. It was beginning to become unbearable. And although she was once again flooded with calm, an even worse hurricane was raging in her heart. She was already suffering from not being there, from not being in his arms.
Of course she was going to leave.
But not 'like that'. Not now. Her departure was to be without commotion, on tiptoe, like a thief leaving with the goods he believes to be most precious.
Her plan of action was to enlarge the wide moat which surrounded whatever piece of her heart remained in her, and to further solidify the walls of her emotional fortress.
. . . . . . . . .
"Are you sure you can't stay and have dinner with us?" Samantha asked as she picked up one of her video games from off of the ground. "Come on, at least once," she kept insisting.
Her imploring eyes directly touched Mokuba's heart. It was curious, this profound feeling that he felt for the first time in his life. At least, for somebody other than this own brother. Of course the two were incomparable.
"Ah… no, I can't, Sam…. sorry," he said half-heartedly. "But if you want we can go out tomorrow night."
She seemed strongly interested as her big blue eyes jumped from sadness to enthusiasm.
"I dunno," he mumbled. "How about a movie?"
"Oh yeah!" she exclaimed, practically clapping her hands together. And then she blushed.
Mokuba felt moved, and almost happy as well, that all of this was because of him. It was crazy just how happy she was.
Every time he found himself with her, he barely had to conjure up a memory of the two of them together before his heart began pounding furiously. And the sky turned from gray to blue; sometimes pink, too. Oh, yes, the sky was wonderful.
It had now been several weeks since the Christmas day that they had begun to see each other more assiduously.
His courses in self-defense largely helped mask his secret. He remembered Naomi, although she ignored quite what was making him so happy, if she imagined anything at all. But he still hadn't dared to speak about this to Seto, which maddened him slightly since it was he was the one which he normally entrusted with such affairs. Wasn't he a man before he was his brother? A man with some degree of experience?
They seemed to pass every day in innocence, neither one daring to truly approach the other. Of course because they were novices in the field, young, overly timorous first-timers who barely risked touching the other with the tips of their fingers.
But Mokuba had asked for nobody's help; he thought it more prudent to take things as they came.
But he could not hide the fact that he hoped for that particular moment from himself. A kiss. Not a quick one, not on the cheek. A real one, driven by the zeal of the heart.
But as Samantha was no more hurried than he was, he kept his distance. The day would surely come sooner or later.
From him. Without disturbing anything.
"I'd really love it if you stayed," she admitted as she bowed her head, a certain chagrin in her voice.
Seto will ask me zillions of questions and not care about whether they're private or not. Ugh.
He couldn't risk it.
However, if he weren't so worried about his brother's curiosity, he would have definitely acquiesced. Anything to see her smile.
"Samantha," he breathed as he softly approached her, filled with a powerful yet silent confidence.
"Mokuba…" she repeated without raising her eyes. "I'd like for you to – "
But she stopped in mid-sentence, too embarrassed to continue.
You can ask me whatever you want, he thought with a smile.
But she still stood there, looking forlorn.
"Yes… what? What would you like?" he hurried to ask her in an attempt to break the silence that had fallen upon her.
And then her cheeks grew bright red.
"…oh…" he said with a flinch, suddenly understanding her keen interest.
Come on, dude. Be a man. Don't forget, you're a Kaiba.
Psh, that sounded like Seto. Get out of my head.
Grr… this isn't the time to panic! Calm down, calm down…
Agh…. but she's so beautiful. What if I can't do it, what if I make a fool of myself… oh, I could never look at her again!..
How everything was no longer so simple.
Mokuba felt like he took a deep breath, but he let nothing show. Unending tickling began inside of his stomach. He had begun to shake, terrified at the sole thought of disappointing her and simultaneously disappointing himself. And he knew that no moment would again be more difficult than this most decisive one.
But the time having arrived to move on to more serious things, Mokuba wasn't going to unclothe himself now that he knew how Samantha felt.
It was to be what he did best in his life: he was to make a man out of himself. His fingers softly pushed Samantha's face upwards so that she could offer him her pink lips.
Was it the same for Seto his first time? Is it normal to be this nervous?
Grr… this is not the time to ask questions!
It was often in the worst moments of uncertainty that he remembered Seto's assurances. Nothing resisted it. Besides, everything bent to his will like crinkling reeds.
He admired him so much, especially at this moment, because he always knew what to do.
Softly, he bent towards hers and, closing his eyes and making a secret prayer, he placed his lips upon hers.
Woah… I can't believe it… I did it! I… he kept repeating to himself, a child who had just hit his first home run and was now sprinting over all of the bases.
The kiss started off small, held back.
Yet there was still the panic that wouldn't leave him, the uncertainty he had in himself.
What the…
A sensation of heat, very humid, suddenly blossomed over his mouth.
Intuitively, they had lightly opened their lips, searching awkwardly for the other person's tongue, like they were running a marathon before arriving at the finish line. Then their bodies interlaced together, Samantha raising her arms to close them around Mokuba's neck as he let his hands slide down to her hips to reinforce the embrace.
Finally, a first kiss.
A real one.
. . . . . . . . .
Do something, Kaiba, goddamn it! She has to be in the middle of packing her suitcase… well, you did it! You should be proud. Grr… do something… you idiot!
Kaiba was sitting still in the penumbra of his office, having no light but the feeble amount provided by the open laptop before him. It was still daylight outside, but he had pulled the curtains.
He had subsided into his large armchair, elbows on the desk and his fingers on his lips, pensive.
What had driven him to behave in such a manner?
What wounded him most inside was surely that Naomi hadn't deigned to respond to his worries. Because that meant that he hadn't made himself sufficiently appreciated for her to trust him with anything; sign that she still didn't trust him at all, or that she just wasn't as attracted to him as he had hoped. In either case, he was badly shaken.
Hadn't he done everything, correctly even, to hold her back and make her love him?
All of his plans had crumbled; there was no triangle, there was no alliance.
But he was tired of all of the patience and effort that got no payback.
He had believed himself to be strong enough to fill the gulf of Naomi's heart. But he soon swore that to be impossible. Especially because time was no longer on his side.
It was true that he had just hastened her departure unnecessarily. That fact couldn't leave him.
But it was to compare two distinct wishes – what he wanted against what she wanted. Two entirely different things. If not, they had to be one and the same.
It was just that Naomi didn't seem as if she were ready.
So he understood that the time to act had just as well come for himself; he could pass over Naomi's past, which he was already taking into consideration. But every day it proved more and more difficult to keep the secrets he already knew about buried deep down. Secrets that they had never discussed between them. Because all that Naomi dreamed about was leaving. And there was no way to hold her back. If there was, there was only one surefire way – and it was so risky that he had trouble envisioning it. It demanded that he involve himself entirely, and that he prepare to do more bad than good. At least in the beginning.
But the main question remained: he wondered how far he could go, and, above all, if he was willing to do so.
The bare and naked truth that he could do nothing against her will. He could not let her out of his prison without his plain consent nor without his aid, which she was not at all ready to consider accepting.
Yes – Seto Kaiba was tired.
But everything had been going so well until…
Grr… Mokuba… why?
It was of course his little brother who must have raised her alarm bells. His own little brother that he had pushed into this maze, from which he would sooner or later emerge.
Argh! Fuck everything that she's done before. It has nothing to do with me. It's not important. It's not important. It's not…
Sincere, to the depths of his soul.
No, he had not stopped waging war. After all, he wasn't the sort of man who gave up when just one problem appeared, even if it first appeared to be insurmountable. Not Seto Kaiba.
Yet… hadn't he offered her the world if she asked for it?
But what did that promise consist of that he had made to her, and to himself in the same vein?
To enjoy happy times, because they would be numerous. Her life would be full of them.
He just had to fire up her passions again.
Despite the circumstances – despite her – it was a promise that he was going to keep.
Seto Kaiba would be the man, the one, the only, the man which would give her back her joie de vivre.
I actually finished this chapter yesterday, I wanted to start a little on Ch. 19 to give myself a head-start for the next day and... I kind of got sucked in. Thanks to justtheretoreadff for reminding me to put this up ^^