INCREDIBLY LONG notes that you should feel free to skip over:

Regarding the long period of time without updates – (written several weeks ago) I'm sorry, I really am. I am currently in my junior year of high school, taking several high-caliber courses, and am on the Robotics and tennis teams at my school – as well as the newly established anime club! While I'm still making excuses, I'd like to add that my Theatre Arts 1 class performed Competition Piece recently, and I played the part of the eccentric, artsy Drama teacher, Mrs. Mellencamp. Upcoming is The Unfinished, in which I play a pompous vulgarity omitted of a narrator. Think Gilderoy Lockhart.

Yeah, yeah. It doesn't matter, Lethe! You should still have had time to update at least once! It's been forever! What's wrong with you!

I don't know. I just haven't felt very Inspired lately. I'm trying my best, honest. Sometimes I feel as though I'm writing a chapter, not for the fun of it or for the creative challenge, but for the reviews. I hate that. When I start feeling as though I'm doing that, I tend to throw the chapter aside and work on something else for a while. That is particularly the case with Trip to Fall. It just feels finished to me right now, and I'm not sure how to go about wrapping up loose ends.

... That, plus I've been hanging around DeviantART way more than I should.

Thank you for sticking with this story for so long! I'll do better next time.

This feels more and more OOC as I go along. Mwaaargh.

Also, this chapter is more of a set-up for other chapters than anything. I'm hoping that it will become more interesting in chapters to come.

And a warning: Lately, I've been both rereading Order of the Phoenix and plowing my way through the Hitchhiker's Guide collection. This may be reflected in my work. I know not.

In other words, run. Now.

Five Replies:

ChibiSerenity3 - Yes, I completely agree. While I love the idea of Seto in a skirt (squeal!), I don't think that I would actually subject him to the anguish of having to wear one. There is a limit, after all. (And, besides, most people seem to prefer the thought of him wearing nothing at all. Cough.) Thank you very much! I'll do my best to keep him on the boundaries of his character. Although I have a quiet image in my mind – Seto in his room, with the door locked, examining himself before a mirror; you can see a slight frown on his face. He spins slowly, head turned back to the mirror all the while, and then sighs and takes off the skirt. "So much for that story device," he grumbles.

mandapandabug – I'm going to let you in on a little secret, Manda-chan. Is anyone else listening? No? Good. Lean closer. Here it is: I never knew what the project was. I did my best to keep it unclear, actually. Ssh. And if I didn't count it up incorrectly, then you are right! Go you! You get 100th Reviewer points. I'll think up something special. :3 Thank you very much!

Sapphire Crescent – Yes! Practice does make perfect. At least, I hope so. Otherwise, I'm doomed…

Demon fritillary – I certainly agree with you! Yes, fanfiction would definitely help Seto along on his path to glory … but … personally, I don't think he could stand the trauma. Yes, I think that his 'people' most likely did a survey. Or they could have compared the content of several shoujo magazines. Who knows?

QuianYun - blush You're too kind. I feel so loved. I'm sorry that I couldn't update sooner!

Many thanks toeveryone. Maybe I'll reply to you in an upcoming chapter … ?

Appeal

Five: Hell

"What was I thinking? Was I thinking at all?"

Rustle.

Creak.

"There's someone here to see you."

Surprise. Hope.

"Send – send him in."

"Of course."

Awkward steps.

Cough.

"I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Listen, about earlier…"

"I love you."

"What?"

Shift. Stand. Close the distance. "I love you."

"I—"

Kiss.

Pull back slowly. Passionately. "I said…"

"I thought you hated me."

"This is shit."

Seto turned off the monitor and pushed back his chair, disgusted. I need a break.

He didn't have enough data yet. No matter what he did, what he tried, it just seemed wrong. What would happen in that sort of situation, really? Certainly, the character wouldn't abruptly declare his love like that. Nor would he suddenly break character and cry. No amateur game developer would make that mistake, surely.

What had happened so far in his own pursuit of "romance"? Kaiba glanced at the small blue notebook next to his keyboard. He had taken to slipping it inside of his coat lately. He couldn't risk Mokuba coming home first and happening upon it. Dear brother though Moki was, the boy was a bit too inquisitive for his own good sometimes.

Speaking of Mokuba—

"Big brother! Big brother!"

Kaiba hurriedly whisked the notebook out of sight. Footsteps tromped down the metal stairwell and stopped at the door. "Seto, are you in here?"

"What do you need?" called Kaiba, stretching and standing.

"Well, um, it's time for din-"

Kaiba strode across the room and opened the door. He looked down at the boy and cut him off mid-sentence. "We are not having pizza."

"Aw, but-"

"No buts, Mokuba," said Kaiba in what for him passed as a very stern and motherly tone. "You are a growing boy. You need nutrition."

"Well, pizza is pretty nutritious, if you think about it."

Kaiba ruffled Mokuba's hair. "Don't try it. I've already got a meal planned."

His younger brother's jaw dropped.

Kaiba stepped out of the doorway and began to make his way upstairs.

After a moment, Mokuba trailed after him excitedly.

"What are we having? Are you cooking? Are you cooking with the wok? Don't you remember what happened last time you tried to use the wok? I still can't look at asparagus because of you, Seto, what are you cooking? Are you cooking? Seto!"

The night out with Jonouchi, Honda, and Mokuba had certainly been an interesting one, if not particularly helpful, Kaiba reflected as he prodded the quivering mass with a toothpick.

This doesn't look right.

He had begun attempting to flirt with Jou just before they all ordered dessert; at first, Jou had hardly noticed. As it continued, though …

This really doesn't look right. Is it supposed to look like that?

… Jou had begun to look genuinely discomfited. Of course, Kaiba hadn't full-out flirted, not with Honda there, but he had … dropped hints. Let his gaze linger a bit too long, grazed his fingers over Jou's as he passed the dessert menu …

It could be because it's smoking.

… And that one time, Jou had released the slightest hiss of breath, eyes widening-

Dear God, it's smoking!

One summer when he was in his earlier teens, Kaiba had decided to check over and revamp the security systems himself. This had included the smoke detectors.

His high-tech fire alarm picked up on the smoke at the same time he did. The sprinklers clicked, and then all hell was let loose.

hell (n.)

1.) The place down there; the place of pain and suffering to which bad people are sent upon their death.

(insert politician or actor of choice) will be sent to his or her own personal hell.

2.) A torrent of water emitting from an abundance of high-powered ceiling jets, descending upon one's kitchen and making further progress on fixing a decent meal next to if not entirely impossible.

The sprinklers clicked, all hell was let loose, and Kaiba uttered a choice expletive.

Kaiba dove underneath the expansive center table, rolling on impact and miraculously managing not to become ridiculously tangled in his coat. The sprinklers – if it was indeed possible to call them that – kept at it for another minute before deciding that they had successfully wrecked everything worth wrecking in the kitchen. They clicked off.

The silence was deafening.

Kaiba tentatively moved out from under the table. He stood.

After a moment, he turned around.

There, before him, stared Mokuba.

They were both silent for a moment.

"…So, how's dinner coming?"

Half an hour later, the pizza arrived.

"Jonouchi residence. If you're a telemarketer, feel free to hang up now."

"And if I'm not?"

"Oh. Kaiba. What do you want?"

Seto flipped another page of FAKE – volume six. He still didn't like the story, at all – it was all just a loosely fabricated excuse for man-on-man action, in his opinion – but it was necessary for his research.

He didn't want to know why the next volume was the only one that had been shrink-wrapped.

"We aren't going to put off the project until the last minute. When are you free? …Mutt," he added belatedly.

"Uh…" He could hear Jou fidgeting. "Well, whenever, I guess. But you can't come to my house. It's … messy."

Family problems, Kaiba decided. "I wouldn't think of it. There's more than enough room over here."

"Oh, okay. That's cool," Jou said awkwardly. "When would be best for you? I mean, you must have a lot of business stuff."

This could work to his advantage.

"True. I have a meeting to attend to tomorrow afternoon. How about…" He paused, as if in deep thought – in truth, he had already formulated a plan. "Tonight?"

"Um, it's a bit late," Jou pointed out.

"We have several spare rooms. As irksome as you are, I would be willing to let you spend the night."

"Jerk," he heard Jou mutter under his breath. "Well, I would hate to be in your way," Jou said, more loudly.

"You wouldn't at all, since my grade depends on your presence."

"Kaiba, I really don't want to spend the night with a guy like you. Can't you act more like you did, you know, Friday night?"

So either he didn't notice that I was trying to flirt with him, or he enjoyed it.

"Come over and we can talk about it."

"Fine. Where do you live?"

"I'll send a driver over to pick you up in fifteen minutes. Be ready."

"Wait a-"

Kaiba hung up.

He depressed a small button on his desk.

"Sir?" rasped a voice from the intercom.

"Isono. I have a task for you…"

All right. I have a bit over half an hour. Seto rummaged around in the desk drawer, finally procuring several blank sheets of paper and a mechanical pencil.

Click.

Click.

He took a breath and set to work.