7: State Secrets
The list of tournament contestants had been finalized and would soon be posted to the net. As one of the perks of working for the competition organizers, Kaiba received a copy more than an hour in advance. The list contained many familiar faces like Ricardo Fellini from Italy and Luang Dallara from Thailand. More than half of the fighters had participated in last year's championship, but a significant portion of those left over were newcomers to the international scene like Kaiba himself.
He paused over Finland's dark horse entry. Even before reviewing her fighter stats, she stood out from the crowd in that helmet and latex bodysuit cosplay. She had taken down Carlos Kaiser, last year's second place, in the qualifiers. He was more concerned with her average battle win time: one minute, twenty-one seconds. But it could also be a fluke given the small number of battles in her records. He track down any available videos of her battles later.
A familiar stretch of shadow fell over him and asked, "So what are you smiling about?"
"Pardon?" He didn't bother to look up.
Jounouchi jabbed a finger at his lips, stopping short of actually touching him. "That. You've had that creepy smirk all morning. It scared the shit out of Takahashi. Are ya thinking about how you're going to beat up all the other contestants?"
Winning and beating others was always a positive in his book, but that was not the reason for his good mood. Absently, he reached up to rub his cheek, noting its fullness. So he had been smiling all this time. He would have to keep himself in better check if other people were noticing (though misinterpreting) as well. Still, it was news he could share with Jounouchi. "I received an email from my brother this morning. He's coming to watch the championship with some school friends."
Jounouchi broke in the sunniest grin Kaiba had seen in awhile. "That's great, man! Do you need me to make any arrangements for you guys? Will I get to meet him?"
"Yes, it is. No, we're going to keep it low-key because I'm still working. And maybe I'll introduce you after I win the championship." Kaiba responded to each inquiry in rapid-fire. Seeing his own happiness reflected back at him through Jounouchi was intoxicating.
"Confident, aren't we?"
"Always." His smirked widened by a fraction.
As Jounouchi squeezed around him to reach his workstation, he reached out, patted Kaiba on the shoulder, and started to draw away. Moving on auto-pilot as he scrolled to the next entry on the list, Kaiba caught Jounouchi's wrist and held it. He wanted to kick himself afterwards.
"Did you need something, Kawaguchi?" Jounouchi asked, simultaneously subdued and on edge. The smile on his face wavered a fraction.
Kaiba reinforced his mask, inwardly lecturing himself for letting down his guard. "Don't forget to keep this between us," the words tumbled awkwardly off his tongue. He let go and leaned back in his seat.
Jounouchi brightened again. "Not to worry, it's our little secret."
-x-x-x-
The bits punched through the last Zaku's armor like it was paper, riddling it with over two dozen holes. It creaked, tittered back, and exploded.
"Simulation battle ended," the battle system announced, and the cockpit and the backdrop of city ruins fell away.
A cheer erupted through the test chamber, startling Kaiba. The adrenaline from the battle had yet to run its course and left him disoriented in face of the scene that now confronted him. The entirety of the Works Team had not been watching at the start of the simulation.
The three weeks before the World Tournament was nothing but back-to-back testing, tuning, and training. The entire Works Team lived and breathed Gunpla from 7am to midnight. A number of members worked overtime, choosing to take advantage of the company dorms instead of going home. Kaiba hadn't been back to his apartment in ten days; Jounouchi probably even longer.
They were running a skeleton crew for tonight's last test. Barring any last-minute disasters, the team was finally looking forward to a restful weekend. Bakura Ryou, the current team leader that took over Adam's old position, had dismissed most of them an hour ago. Yet everyone had returned, and many had changed out of their work uniforms.
"Thank you, Works Team, for another year of hard work!" Adams called from the console platform. He brandished a champagne bottle and popped the cork to a round of applause. Bakura produced a platter of glassware from nowhere, took the bottle, and began pouring.
Adams hopped down from the raised platform with a flute in each hand to approach the battle system. He offered one each to Kaiba and Jounouchi. Jounouchi took his without hesitation, while Kaiba only took his by the plastic stem after Jounouchi nudged him.
He eyed the other flutes now being passed out to his team members. "Are you sure it's wise to have alcohol on company premises?"
"We have permission from the administration. This is a Works Team tradition, after all," Adams winked.
Several long-standing team members wandered over. One of them explained, "Chief Allan started it the first year he was team leader. We were all super surprised when he contacted us last week and told us it was happening this year too."
Kaiba frowned. "I wasn't told anything about this."
Jounouchi threw an arm over his shoulders. "That's because it was meant to be a surprise for you. You've worked as hard as anyone else on the team."
"Consider it a belated welcome to the Works Team, Kawaguchi." Adams raised his flute in a toast.
Kaiba drank to hide his discomfort.
After the champagne, they migrated from the testing chamber to the team office, where more alcohol and food waited. Other PPSE employees, like some of Jounouchi's former colleagues from Weapons Development, regularly wandered in and out of the party. The team members got more and more drunk over the course of the evening, and when fueled by liquid courage, everyone jumped on the opportunity to converse with Kaiba.
"Did you see the readings in that last simulation? A particle reaction speed of 0.10," gushed Honda Hiroto, who was responsible for QA. His cheeks were flushed after his fifth beer.
Nosaka Miho, the group's materials expert, nodded vigorously, causing her ponytail to whip up and down. "I never dreamed we'd get numbers like that this year!"
"To Meijin Kawaguchi the fourth, cheers!" someone raised a cup and Kaiba was forced to drink more oolong tea to another round of toasts.
Perhaps Jounouchi sensed Kaiba's discomfort, as he never drifted far from Kaiba's side for long. He acted as a buffer against the conversations that were wearing thin on Kaiba and by drinking the alcohol that older members kept trying to foist on him. But even without the aid of alcohol, the evening grew progressively fuzzy as the forced pleasantries in combination with Jounouchi's insistent touches left Kaiba feeling flayed and exposed.
When they broke out the half-dozen bottles of Suntory whisky, he knew it was time to make an escape to the courtyard. Several people were outside smoking; Kaiba refused their offer of a cigarette and moved further away from the door.
August in Shizuoka was as stifling as July, high in temperature and high in humidity. Sweat dampened the back of his neck by the time he reached a circle of benches frequented by the employees at lunch time. The first thing he did was shed his two uniform coats on a stone bench and loosen his cravat. When that wasn't enough to beat the heat, he undid the top two buttons of his shirt. His head cleared while he took in several deep breaths of fresh air. He spent the next few minutes checking emails on his phone, slightly disappointed to not have received a reply from Mokuba yet. Occasionally a roar of noise flowed into the courtyard, but he couldn't muster the usual level of annoyance toward it. He was growing soft.
"Hah! Found you!" Jounouchi exclaimed, swaggering into view with a million volt smile.
"I wasn't hiding," he replied and put down his phone. He needed a break from the team's loud and overbearing goodwill. Didn't they find it exhausting to be that happy?
Jounouchi plopped down next to him, brushing up against his side. The air grew warmer still. Jounouchi squirmed, restless and fidgeting like a five-year-old child. Finally, he shifted around, pulled both legs up onto the bench, and leaned his full back and weight against Kaiba's arm. Given a few more centimeters to the right and Jounouchi would be falling straight into his lap. Kaiba tried to push him off, but Jounouchi buckled down and refused to budge.
"Get off."
They were dangerously close.
Jounouchi's voice rumbled through his body as he spoke, "Relax, Kaiba, it's a party. Who knew you'd be so comfy?" His head rolled back against Kaiba's shoulder— his blond hair tickling against his jawline.
"You're drunk," he accused. His own voice sounded a million miles away.
"Okay, maybe a little. It's only my third beer," Jounouchi swirled his can of Kirin and shoved it in Kaiba's face. "Have a sip."
Jounouchi being this close always had an effect: it wore down on Kaiba's control and prompted him to act in ways he wouldn't otherwise. Kaiba's actions became mere impulses with little to no conscious planning. He took the can automatically and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose. The taste was as sour and bitter as he remembered. His head spun, but he couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or Jounouchi's proximity. The same hazy quality from the party inside crept over him again.
He passed the beer back to Jounouchi, who shrugged and drank from it again. Watching Jounouchi touch his lips to the spot where Kaiba's had lingered seconds ago was a revelation. A sudden wildfire sprung in the pit of his belly, spreading to the rest of his body and threatening to burn him to ashes. His fingers twitched, itching to claim skin or to weave themselves into Jounouchi's wild hair, which appeared almost silvery in the moonlight.
His eyes reflexively fell to the dewy sheen over Jounouchi's lips. He'd probably tasted as bitter as the Kirin, but Kaiba could overlook that for now. Jounouchi lifted the can to his mouth again, but Kaiba caught his wrist first. Craning his neck, Jounouchi eyed him with curiosity and a hungry light. Because tried as he might, Jounouchi was never too good at hiding his emotions, especially now that his inhibitions had been lowered through alcohol.
His blood beat a steady rhythm against his eardrum— heart hammering against his rib cage. Jounouchi's pulse skyrocketed under his thumb. Kaiba could see their mutual desires in painful and burning clarity; his own wants mirrored in Jounouchi's face. It gave him pause while poised on the brink of a free fall.
Jounouchi licked his lips, coating them in wet anticipation.
Neither of them wore parachutes, and there was no certainty to cushion their landing. Kaiba breathed in, breathed out, and stepped back from the edge.
-x-x-x-
Unable to sleep, Kaiba lay on his back and stared up his bedroom's darkened ceiling. The same train of thought— one truth— kept running through his head, churning madly and without end.
He wanted Jounouchi.