Author's note: Remember how I said not to expect an update every two days? Well-I fell into a trance again and Chapter Three just happened... time to meet Mokuba! Plus, Ishizu decides to mess with Seto even more... he totally deserves it.
Please read/review/follow/fave!
Seto Kaiba awoke at five o'clock each and every morning. Without fail.
As soon as the first rays of sunlight broke ruthlessly through the gap in his dark blue curtains his eyes fluttered open. He squinted against the brightness. Rolled onto his back. Stared at the ceiling. Groaned, because it hadn't been enough. Not enough sleep. As usual.
He sat up. Cracked his neck a few times. Flexed and curled his fingers. Wincing as what was surely a burgeoning case of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome strained at his wrists, the flash of pain making him grunt.
Mokuba was always telling him to take a vacation…
The maid, as per usual, had left a cup of coffee and a croissant on a tray, along with several of the world's leading daily papers, all tied together in a crisp bundle-Yomiuri Shimbun, the Guardian, the Wall Street Journal, Reference News-along with the less-erudite Domino Herald. Seto got out of his king-size bed with its dark blue coverlet, rolled back his shoulders, and padded across the thickly carpeted floor to retrieve his breakfast.
He ate neatly, not spilling a crumb of the pastry, as he had been trained to do as a child, as he briefly flipped through the international papers, clicking his tongue in approval at various stock reports and trade deals littering the news outlets' business sections. Very good, very good.
Taking a sip of the steaming hot black coffee, Seto turned idly to the Domino Herald-while it was Domino City's most popular newspaper, circulation did not exactly connote prestige, as much of the non-business or sports sections of the daily was devoted to more tabloid, tawdry affairs.
He laughed under his breath, thinly and harshly, as he saw his own scowling face plastered on the front page of the Life section-him fending off a photographer, looking ready to punch someone, hand on Ishizu's back, as he led her to the restaurant at the Domino City Ritz-Carlton.
"Domino City's Most Eligible Bachelor-SPOTTED ON A DATE WITH A MYSTERIOUS WOMAN!"
He flipped to the continuation of the story, avoiding getting dusty ink on his fingertips, where several television personalities and reporters had given their opinions of the presumed couple-wondering blithely who this unfamiliar woman was, how the pair of them looked together, how long they'd been secretly dating before taking that step and going out in public together…
Ishizu Ishtar-
That strange, unfathomable woman.
One minute she was obedient. Quiet. Fearful yet calm. Serene.
The next-
Winking at him and joking around with Pegasus, voice heavy with laughter and implications, like the two were the best of friends…
Then-
In the limousine-
Seto blushed delicately as he recalled her unnerving behavior in the backseat. How she'd smiled at him. Murmured in his ear. Loosened his tie. Her hands moving to his shoulders. Eyes half-lidded. Wanting.
And testing his willpower.
Seto took another bite of pastry. I mean, I know I'm no eyesore, but she must have had too much to drink. She would not have acted in such a way had she not been intoxicated…
Then why did the mere thought of her-her proximity the previous night-and, by god, how she'd looked in that dress, blooming like a flower under Yugi's care-make him feel slightly feverish? Ill? Was that it?
There is no way she would have done that of her own volition-
After all, I am her captor. As unfortunate for her as that is…
That familiar spark of rage at her foolish brother making his pulse race under the skin.
Seto finished his coffee and placed the china cup back onto the tray.
After his shower, he stood before his bathroom mirror, dragging a razor over his neck and chin carefully, glad, as always, that no one would ever see him like this-towel around his waist, hair wet and flat against his head, face half-covered in white lather.
He wondered idly if she'd been able to sleep. I suppose a look at the tapes would tell me that-
He didn't regret the last-minute decision to install a security camera in her room. While Ishizu and Pegasus had been enjoying their second glasses of wine, nibbling on various bites of cheese and, frankly, paying little attention to Seto, he'd sent a message to Tristan and Joey, who had promptly done what he'd asked and placed the camera somewhere subtle, out of sight…
Little chance she'd find it, anyway…
Then he was standing in his closet, regarding the vast array of suits in various blacks and grays, deciding what to wear.
In the corner of the closet, folded into a pile and pressed carefully, were the rather ridiculous and theatrical trenchcoats he'd worn as a youth. Back when he was the definition of a peacock, strutting around, endlessly squawking about himself-about his dueling prowess, before he'd given up the game to focus his energies on running the company-
It was much better to be a shark, he reasoned, as he selected a dark gray wool suit-darker than the one he'd worn the previous day-along with a light blue shirt, perfectly ironed by one of Yugi's assistants, and a matching gray tie.
Sharks, after all, had real bite. They commanded fear and respect. Peacocks merely were flash with nothing of real power to them.
He made his way through the corridors of the Manor, walking down several winding staircases and descending into the spacious, furnished basement. I believe it should be Tristan's shift now, he thought vaguely, looking at his watch, as he approached the Kaiba Manor control room. Submitting to the retinal scan, he crossed his arms as the door slid open to reveal, in fact, Tristan Taylor, sitting before the monitors.
Or-rather-leaning back in his swivel chair before the monitors. Feet on the desk. Head drooping to one side.
Seto bristled and cleared his throat. "Tristan?" Please do pay attention to your job…
The larger man turned his head sharply, noticed his forbidding employer standing in the doorway of the control room, gulped audibly and righted himself. "G-good morning, Mr. Kaiba-"
Seto waved his hand dismissively as he entered the room, turning to face the wall of monitors-seven in all, now that the camera in Ishizu's room had been installed and connected-and focused on that monitor, taking in the crystal-clear image, taken from a high angle, of Ishizu curled up in that bed under the white coverlet, apparently sound asleep.
He tapped Tristan on the shoulder. "Has Miss Ishtar been sleeping long?"
Tristan nodded. "Joseph reported, when he and I traded shifts at midnight, that she had been asleep for about an hour prior. She did not wake up during the night."
Seto leaned forward, zeroing his gaze in on the form of the woman. "Pull up the feed from last night in the room-starting from when the camera was installed."
Tristan dutifully pressed a few buttons on his keyboard and the image shifted to the same room, only now shrouded in the darkness of night. Téa leading the wobbly Ishizu through the doorway, murmuring kind words and encouragements. Helping her change into a nightgown. Téa guiding her onto the bed, asking if she'd like some water. Ishizu demurring. Téa leaving. Ishizu heading for the bathroom. Ishizu walking around the room, seemingly confused. Ishizu yawning, walking back to her bed.
-Ishizu sobbing. Shoulders shaking. Hands covering her face-
Seto swallowed hard at the image on the screen, something like a sickness trickling through him. "That's enough, Tristan."
"Yes, Mr. Kaiba." And then the image returned to the sun-drenched scene of Ishizu, still sleeping. Not moving, not tossing or turning-back and side rising and falling gently. In a rhythm.
He couldn't make out the expression on her face.
Ishizu was awakened from another dreamless bout of slumber by the sound of the lock being opened, followed by that familiar, persistent knock.
Rap-rap-rap-
A shudder ran through her. Almost a Pavlovian reaction.
Still here, I see-
Still trapped.
She sat up in her bed and stretched before walking across the room to answer the door.
"Miss Ishtar." Seto stood before her once again, silver tray held out before him, laden with a bowl of what appeared to be oatmeal, a pot of coffee, a little bowl of sugar. "I thought I would bring you breakfast this morning-if you don't mind…" A hint of something in his voice. Like it was almost an order.
Ishizu fought to stop her shoulders from tensing up, suddenly very aware of her state of dress. Less revealing than the gown from the previous night, perhaps, but more intimate…
Seto licked his lips almost nervously as he considered her in that blousy, knee-length nightgown-considering the events of the prior night-
As if I have a choice. "O-of course, Seto. You happened to wake me up-forgive my appearance…" Her voice trailed off as Seto brushed past her and laid the tray on the table by the chairs. Ishizu gritted her teeth, knowing he couldn't see her, and pushed the door closed.
He sat down, poured himself a cup of coffee, and crossed his legs. "Please don't worry about it-I've seen worse…" That was an unconscionably asinine thing to say-
Despite herself, Ishizu bit back a grin at his expense before taking her seat, lifting the bowl of oatmeal before her and taking a spoonful of the hot cereal.
They sat there in silence for a few moments as Ishizu ate, Seto racking his brain for something to say-something to, perhaps, make this a bit less awkward-
After all, she'd practically thrown herself at him the previous night-
And now he was bringing her breakfast and seeing her in her nightgown, her long dark hair wavy with bedhead and strewn around her shoulders.
-Not to mention having seen her cry…
Seto cleared his throat, placing the cup back onto the tray. "Miss Ishtar-last night-your behavior was exceedingly strange towards me."
Have I been found out-has he realized-?
Ishizu took a deep breath, willing her heart rate to slow, widening her eyes in innocent confusion. "I-I'm sorry, Seto?"
She doesn't even remember-she must have been just pissed drunk. Seto nervously scratched the back of his neck, wondering how best to bring up her wayward actions towards him in the back of the limousine.
"Ah-well. That's fortunate for you, I suppose… anyway, you clearly had far too much to drink; when we got back in the limo you-well-"
Looked at me like you wanted to eat me alive.
"-made a pass at me."
Ishizu froze. He merely thinks I was drunk. Not daring to sigh in relief, she placed the oatmeal back down on the tray with shaky hands and immediately and very obviously bit her lip, lowering her gaze to the floor in a show of embarrassment. "I-I did? Well-I-I don't remember doing that, Seto-I'm quite sorry to have caused you any trouble…"
I wish I could blush on command-
Seto lifted his coffee cup to his lips. "Ah-well, it wasn't that much of a problem, Miss Ishtar-after all, if I didn't know how to let down attractive women I'd have been married several times over. However, I did promise you that despite your performance in public, there would be nothing of that nature occurring between us privately. Therefore, while your behavior was merely a surprise and an annoyance to me, it was quite inappropriate…"
Ishizu bit back a low, bitter retort. I'm the one who's inappropriate?-he's the one who's holding me prisoner in his own house-asshole-
"… and, I'm sure, not what you would have wanted to occur between us, given the state of our acquaintance."
"Ah-in any case, Seto-I am quite sorry. It won't happen again." I'll have to note how much he observes me drinking…
Seto nodded, considering the matter settled, and finished the cup of coffee. "Now, about this evening."
Ishizu looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "This evening?"
Seto poured himself another cup. "Yes-we seem to have met at a rather busy time in my life-"
More like you took me from my home and locked me in a room, only letting me out to be your fake lover for the sake of the media-
"-and, therefore, you will be accompanying me to a formal party being thrown by one of my fellow Domino leaders of industry-a Mr. Ziegfried von Schroeder of the Schroeder Corporation-" Seto couldn't but groan subtly, inwardly at the mention of the pink-haired poseur.
He makes Pegasus Crawford seem normal by comparison-
Ishizu pressed her lips together. "I see."
Seto stood up, smoothing out his suit jacket and picking up the tray. "I will arrive to fetch you from this room at seven o'clock. Yugi Moto and his assistants have kindly spent the night working overtime at my request, making you a dress suitable for this occasion. I expect he will arrive to get you ready sometime this evening."
Fetch me-like some object-
-he had his employees work like-like slaves, throughout the night-on my behalf-
Her quiet fury mounted, coming to a slow simmer.
"Seto, you didn't have to do that…" Are there no depths to your cruelty, Seto Kaiba?
He shrugged casually, voice flat. "It's their job." Besides, Yugi practically volunteered…
As Seto brought the tray over to the door, a wild thought tugged at Ishizu's mind. Well, if he expects me to go out prancing and swooning over him again-
"Seto?" She allowed her voice to crack on the second syllable of his name.
She stood and clasped her hands before her. Like a sweet, soft girl. Pure. Unthreatening. "I-I was wondering-might I be allowed to speak with my brothers?-to let them know, you know, that I'm safe and being cared for and everything?"
"No." The answer came abruptly with little thought as Seto looked at her coldly. "You haven't yet demonstrated that you won't be any trouble."
I will kill you slowly. I will watch your eyes go blank. And I will laugh.
She nodded slowly in response, tucking her chin into her chest as Seto watched her curiously. Cautiously. Her gaze lowering to her feet. Staring at her toenails.
A sniffle. Shoulders rounding. Lower lip wobbling as she shuddered, then lifted her hand to flutter briefly in front of her mouth, swallowing air in loud gulps, then throwing her head back as if to stifle tears, to stop them from welling up in her eyes and spilling forth…
Damn. She did not take that well… Seto felt a slight bitter taste in his mouth at the sight of her crumpling. Wilting before him-as she had the previous night in her bed, though, of course, without her knowing she was being watched…
Fall for it… Ishizu lowered her head, fixing her teary gaze upon Seto, blinking rapidly, making a show of taking deep, calming breaths, of trying to actively push down the swell of negative emotions that had overtaken her. "I-I understand, Seto-it's just that-there's nothing really for me to do in here, save for watching television or sleeping… there's not really anyone for me to talk to, except for you or-or Yugi…" She gnawed on her lower lip as she continued to look pitifully at Seto.
Well, I could always introduce her to-
"How would you like to meet my younger brother, Miss Ishtar?"
The question hung precariously in the air. Ishizu pretended to wipe her eyes on the back of her hand.
Good god. Another Kaiba-another asshole to deal with-
-younger, too-no doubt he's even brattier than his brother is heartless-
"Ah-that'd be… well, I'd really appreciate that, Seto," she replied, bowing her head slightly in thanks.
Seto let out a sigh of relief. Thank god she didn't start weeping again…
And, besides, Mokuba can cheer practically anyone up-
"Well, if you'll get dressed quickly, I'll be back here with my brother shorty and he can give you a tour of the Manor. Does that sound acceptable to you, Miss Ishtar?"
Ishizu curved her mouth up into a wan smile. "It does indeed-thank you, Seto…"
"I'll be right back." Shifting the tray onto one hand with ease, he pulled open the door, stepped across the threshold and closed it behind him. Then the sound of locking. Again.
Ishizu chewed on the inside of her cheek roughly, fighting back a groan of annoyance. I had to open my damned mouth and now I'll be forced to entertain the bastard's brother all day long…
She walked over to the dresser, haphazardly pulling open drawers and rummaging through endless piles of clothes until, finally, she withdrew a white, long-sleeved peasant blouse, a pale blue ankle-length skirt, and the appropriate undergarments. Well, it seems Yugi figured me out rather quickly-in terms of what clothing I prefer-
She changed, darted into the bathroom, splashed some water on her face, combed through her hair, brushed her teeth, and returned to the bedroom, fairly thrumming with nervous irritation. I don't suppose I could feign illness…?
The rattle of the door unlocking made her jump. That was rather fast of him-
Before he could knock, Seto found the door opening before him; he looked down at Ishizu, now dressed, combed, freshened. Cheeks slightly pinked. Eyes blazing.
"Ah. I see you're ready then. Miss Ishtar, I'd like you to meet Mokuba Kaiba, my younger brother, currently home from university…" Seto turned his head to face the corridor and crooked his finger.
A shock of black hair popped into view as Mokuba Kaiba, an almost unconscious bounce in his step, approached the doorway and swung himself through the threshold and into the bedroom; Ishizu's eyes widened in surprise as she took a step back to accommodate the younger Kaiba's sprightly energy, so different from his brother's eerie, frosty calm.
Mokuba extended a hand towards Ishizu. "It's great to meet you, Miss Ishtar…" Ishizu took his hand in her own as she looked him over. In contrast to Seto's clean-cut, buttoned-up image, his younger brother, who came up to roughly Seto's shoulder, had wild, unkempt hair pulled back into a mess of a ponytail at the base of his neck, and was clad in a faded t-shirt with some kind of sketchy metallic-looking creature and blue jeans, perfectly and artfully worn with holes in the knees, with thick-soled combat boots completing this strange ensemble.
"Pleasure's all mine." Ishizu kept her voice calm. Pleasant. Placid.
Seto looked from Ishizu to his brother and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Now, Mokuba, you're going to be giving Ishizu a tour of the house, as well as of the grounds, if she so chooses. The weather looks fine today." He narrowed his eyes at her. "You are, of course, permitted to be nowhere near my personal study or my personal quarters."
His personal study…?
Mokuba and Ishizu nodded as the latter murmured softly, trying to hide a hint of acid in her tone, "and I'm assuming your brother knows the terms of my stay?"
Mokuba scratched at the back of his neck and lowered his eyes to his boots. Ishizu sighed resignedly. "Well, at any rate, it'll be nice to get out of this room. Mokuba, lead on."
The younger Kaiba's face brightened; he lunged forward suddenly and took Ishizu's hand, threading his fingers in between hers. "Well then-let's go!"
As Seto watched, the faintest hint of an amused smile playing on his lips, Mokuba practically flew out of the room, dragging Ishizu, red-faced, the wind knocked out of her, behind him, down the corridor and around the corner. "I can't wait for you to see my quarters-they're way cooler than what Seto's got-ah, not that you'd know, of course-you'll have to take my word for it-"
Kaiba Manor was among the finest places Ishizu had ever been in.
And she made a habit of visiting museums regularly.
The exterior façade of the house was, perhaps, a false advertisement for what the rest of the building delivered; all done up in a Romanesque style, mounted with proud fluted columns, dotted with red-and-white bricks-yet the interior of the house was impossibly light and airy and modern. Sleek. Almost intimidating in scale. High ceilings, rooms filled with light. An endless parade of corridors. Sitting rooms. Living rooms. Atriums. Bathrooms. Parlors. Guest bedrooms-her own accommodations became less of a mystery to her. Dark, square couches and white-blanketed beds, all low to the ground like the one she slept in. Ankle-deep carpeting alternating with glowing wood floors. Simple-but elegant chairs made of the same smooth, bright wood. Flat-screen televisions in nearly every room.
To Ishizu's surprise, there seemed to be art in nearly every room as well-abstract paintings on the walls, all done up to match the decor of the room it hung in-or small decorative works placed on tables-the occasional tinted-glass window, casting a flash of color onto white carpeting.
Well, he clearly has taste-
She took in a large canvas hung prominently against one wall, the drippy curves of paint crackling with abundant energy, layered upon one another in a seemingly slapdash way.
She squinted at the painting for a moment, understanding dawning slowly.
Is that-
"Mokuba-is that a Jackson Pollock?" she managed to sputter out, grabbing ahold of the younger man's arm and pointing towards the work on the wall.
Mokuba blushed hard at her question. "Ah-no, Ishizu-I made that, in school… I'm studying art-and computer science and business, too-but Pollock is my favorite American painter-I-I can't believe you think that's a real one-"
Ishizu raised her eyebrows, a genuine grin sneaking onto her lips. Impressive.
Both of the Kaiba brothers are precocious, then-
"Do you want to continue painting after school, Mokuba?"
Mokuba's mouth twisted slightly, his smile flagging. "I mean-I'd love to be able to do that… but I have to be prepared to take over KaibaCorp-y'know, if something happened to Seto…"
Ishizu nodded in response, eyes looking pensive and understanding.
It would seem as though you will have to deal with that responsibility sooner than you thought, Mokuba.
And I am sorry for your sake-
Mokuba's quarters were, as promised, cool. Seto's younger brother had his own suite of rooms, consisting of a bedroom, still that of a teenager, with its canopy bed and posters littering the walls, sitting room, and--incredibly-his own gaming room. Tucked away in a dark, windowless room-every kind of arcade and video game Ishizu had ever fathomed existing.
And at the rear of the Manor, the lawn she'd seen from the window in the bedroom-stunning. Almost like a paradise. Stretching far into the horizon, the hedges that had seemed so small coming up to her waist. Endless green. Some modern-looking outdoor artworks here and there. By the grove of trees she'd glimpsed at the far end of the lawn, a crystal-clear pond with a flock of ducks nattering away.
It was dazzling.
But not enough to make her forget a thing.
She walked in step beside Mokuba across the lawn, the grass tickling her bare feet. Sun beating down on her face and neck. Warming her skin.
Mokuba had not stopped talking for the entire duration of the tour-providing descriptions of each room they entered, along with a story about some funny thing or other that had happened to him in said room or location-
"And then, when I was fifteen, I was having a sleepover with some friends, and we thought it would be really funny if we brought some ducks from the duck pond into the house and let 'em loose, y'know? So we snuck out back here in the middle of the night, but the ducks freakin' attacked us when we tried to catch them-this one mallard almost bit off my hand, I swear…" he chirped, gesturing wildly with his hands, continually looking at Ishizu's face to make sure she was still paying attention. He giggled, remembering Seto's reaction to the shenanigans he and his friends had tried to pull-Seto had groaned and rolled his eyes, the way he always did when Mokuba got into trouble, and had tried to take away television privileges for a week. Like that had worked…
Ishizu stopped in her tracks for a moment as the gentle breeze whipped her skirt around her legs. A sudden burst of clouds temporarily blocking the sun, making her shiver as Mokuba's voice turned into a meaningless hum in her ears.
Nothing more than a cage-
A gilded, beautiful cage-
But still a cage.
"Miss Ishtar? You okay?" Mokuba's voice, concerned and slightly high-pitched, pierced through her thoughts.
She blinked once and sighed. Looked over at him. Tried to smile.
What must it have been like for him to grow up with such a brother?
His boundless enthusiasm reminded her of Marik-when her brother was a younger child, lavender eyes wide and full of cheer. Joy with the world around him.
She felt a prickling behind her eyes. Blast.
"I'm fine, Mokuba." She swallowed hard, feeling a tiny shudder to ripple through her. Her hands and feet suddenly numb. Cold, despite the return of the sun's warmth.
Mokuba walked back over to her, shoulders slumping slightly, and taking her hand in his. His gray eyes were almost level with hers. Heart pounding painfully in his chest as he saw the resignation in her unerring gaze. The sadness manifested there. A slight dullness.
I don't understand my brother sometimes…
I know he can be cruel-
But keeping her here against her will-
"Miss Ishtar-I-" Mokuba paused as he searched for the right words. Something that wouldn't mark him as naive. Out of touch.
Cold-
-like Seto-
"I-I know my big brother might-might seem like a bad person and all, but-but I promise, he's-he's good at heart-it's just that no one really sees it…" He chewed on his lower lip, watching her features carefully-already wondering if he'd spoken out of line. Said too much-
Ishizu's features turned masklike as she pressed her lips together. If only Seto were more like this-considerate. Welcoming. Kind.
"Mokuba, he's keeping me as his prisoner. He threatened to harm my family-so forgive me if I don't hold him in such high esteem." She gently unwound her hand from his and clasped them before her. Standing up straight. Regally. As if nothing could touch her.
"Yeah. I know. I'm really sorry, Miss Ishtar-and I wish I could change his mind. But-you've probably figured this out already-but he doesn't change his mind easily…" Mokuba's voice cracked. He looked down at his feet, trying to stop his eyes from bubbling over. My brother-
Why-?
Ishizu softened slightly. Lifted her hand to pat him on the head, tilting her head to one side as her fingers caught into a tiny snarl in his dark hair.
She felt almost like a sister again.
"Come, Mokuba-let's go back to the kitchen. I'm getting rather hungry…"
Mokuba sniffed again, then looked up to meet her gaze, his own eyes startling in their innocence. Their lack of guile.
Slipping his hand into hers, he broke out into a crooked grin. "Okay, Miss Ishtar!"
Ishizu allowed herself a small smile. "You can call me 'Ishizu', Mokuba."
The tumbling of the lock-
Rap-rap-rap-
Six o'clock already-
Ishizu switched off the television and eased herself out of the chair. Her hem was soaked through and stained with grass; as she walked over to the door, her bare feet left faint traces of green on the white carpet.
She pulled the door open; she was greeted by the violet eyes and inconceivably spiky hair of Yugi Moto, with another garment bag in tow, a pair of shiny black pumps hanging from his fingers.
The small man's eyes shone warmly at her; he bowed his head in greeting. "Good evening, Miss Ishtar-it's time for you to get ready."
Ishizu stepped aside to let him pass. "And Serenity and Miho?"
Yugi walked over to the bed and carefully laid out the garment bag, then placed the shoes on the carpet. "I gave them the day off-Mr. Kaiba had us working all night to make this dress…" Voice chipper as ever.
Ah-yes. I forgot-Seto making them slave away-for a damned dress-
She closed the door and chewed on the inside of her cheek, her stomach twisting tightly as she turned to face Yugi, heart feeling sluggishly thick in his chest. "Ah-I'm so sorry about that-"
Yugi shrugged his shoulders. "I really didn't mind, Miss Ishtar-after all, I don't get many opportunities to make such lovely clothing-and Mr. Kaiba really stressed the importance of tonight's event, so I was glad to be able to do it-and so quickly, too-"
He unzipped the garment bag and almost tenderly lifted the black lace concoction into his arms before handing it to Ishizu, who accepted it like she would accept a small child being placed into her arms-nervously. Gingerly. Anxiously.
"If you'll go into the bathroom and change, Miss Ishtar, then I can help you with your hair and makeup…"
Ishizu nodded and padded over to the bathroom. As she began to change, she heard Yugi's voice calling out:
"Again, Miss Ishtar-if I'd had more time, I would have made you a masterpiece…"
Ishizu smiled wryly as she stepped into the dress, pulling the skirt over her legs and lifting up the bodice to cover her breasts. "You and your disclaimers, Yugi…"
Yugi tapped her on the nose with the soft brush playfully, then slid it alongside the other brushes in his makeup kit and fastened the velcro strap, holding them in place. "You're done, Miss Ishtar-and might I say, you look ravishing. Stunning. You'll have the eye of every man on you tonight-"
He stopped, paled slightly. Realized the strange gravity of his own words.
After all, Miss Ishtar is not here of her own volition- to imply that she would want the attentions of Mr. Kaiba-
Ishizu lowered her eyes and gritted her teeth, keeping her breath even. Calm. Unflappable. Unruffled. Pretend he didn't say that-
"While your behavior was merely a surprise and an annoyance to me, it was quite inappropriate…"
-why am I thinking of him-?
She shook her head as if to rid her mind of him, then lifted her eyes to her reflection.
Sucked in a sharp, cool breath at the vision before her.
A beautiful bird in a gilded cage-
The dress, made of black lace so fine that it appeared to be pure smoke, cut across her collarbone in a straight line, leaving her arms exposed, then flowed down to the floor, the waist cinched in by a shiny black ribbon, the skirt gliding over her form gently but not too tightly. The front and back of the dress was beaded-exquisitely so-in small clusters of glittering black.
Yugi had straightened her hair, run his fingers through it with styling gel, giving it a natural looking but perfectly managed wave, then let it loose about her shoulders. The same black eyeliner applied to her eyes. Lipstick of the same deep red as the previous night.
-still a cage-
Seto straightened his bowtie and ran a hand through his hair. Lifted elegant fingers to unlock the lock. Knocked on the door with the back of his hand.
From through the slender gap between the doorway and the door, he could hear Ishizu's and Yugi's voices. Murmuring quietly. Yugi's voice teasing. Chiding her for something.
Ishizu laughing. Clear. Bell-like. Melodic. A splash of water.
Something tugged at him annoyingly, persistently as the sound grew louder.
The handle on the door turned abruptly; he caught a glimpse of Ishizu's face, features dewy and cheered, before her mouth flattened into an intractable line. Her eyes grew blank, her upper lip curling slightly as her eyes came to rest upon his face.
Well, let's just get this over with, I suppose-
"Good evening, Seto." Her voice bore no trace of the good humor it had contained only moments before. Simple politeness. Distance. Vague interest.
Seto inhaled shallowly as he took her in. Not quite as-well-sinful-looking as the previous night, but still fetching nonetheless.
As if Ishizu Ishtar could ever look anything but comely…
"It's seven o'clock, Miss Ishtar. Are you ready?"
Ishizu nodded, studying Seto's face as he, in turn, looked at her, she in turn feeling every flicker of his eyes acutely against her skin. His eyes dropping to sweep over the front of her gown. Her waist. Then back up again. To her lips.
Is he blushing…?
Her mouth tasted bitter at the thought as she lowered her eyes to the floor demurely. To his black dress shoes, perfectly shined.
Still she felt his intent gaze. Creeping over her. Brushing along her shining hair.
Resolve settled in her bones.
Tonight I'm playing vinegar.
Ice.
Make him want it.
I will play the long game with you, Seto Kaiba.
And I will win.
His hand pressing against the small of her back. Sure and steady. Blessedly not wandering. Lips at her ear. She, smiling as if she had a secret, for the benefit of the screaming photographers. Him guiding her through a massive set of doors. Another hotel. Another night. Another masquerade.
"And this is my date, Miss Ishizu Ishtar…" Seto's face bore a typical smirk as Ziegfried lifted Ishizu's hand to his lips, Ishizu smiling placidly as she accepted the gesture, Seto's hand still at her back. The heel of his palm almost digging into her spine.
"Ah! A pleasure, Miss Ishtar…" Ziegfried replied in heavily accented Japanese. He straightened and extended his hand to Seto, who shook it. "Du hast eine sehr schöne Frau gefunden, Seto… wenn du nicht vorsichtig bist, könnte jemand sie stehlen…"
You have found a very beautiful woman, Seto… if you are not careful, someone could steal her…
Seto laughed, a low, husky sound. As Ishizu turned to her head to look at him, eyes round with confusion, he responded easily. "Und denkst du, dass du dieser Mann bist?"
And you think that you are this man?
Ziegfried's smile grew wide. "Vielleicht."
Maybe.
The pink-haired man's gaze alighted upon another guest behind the pair; bowing his head, he continued, "it was good to see you again, Seto Kaiba. Lovely to meet you as well, Miss Ishtar." Then he was gone. Swallowed by the throng of expensively dressed partygoers.
Seto rolled his eyes and pressed his hand against her back again, leading her out of the center of the room as Ishizu asked, a hint of irritation crawling into her voice, "and what was that about, Seto?"
"Ziegfried is a ridiculous man, Ishizu." And let's leave his insane jealousy of me at that, shall we-
Ishizu looked at him hard for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, if you don't require me to stand around and smile for the time being, I'm going to get some champagne. Would you like any?" This is going to be a long night-
Perhaps a bit too much sourness in her tone, for Seto bristled in response. "No, thank you, Ishizu. Though I would advise you to please try to restrain yourself tonight…" His voice bored. Arrogant. Superior.
Please do not try to seduce me again-
Ishizu deliberately lowered her gaze to the floor, raising her arm to scratch at her elbow in a show of embarrassment. "I-I am sorry about that, Seto-I promise it won't happen again."
"Nn." Seto crossed his arms and waited as Ishizu made her away across the lavishly carpeted floor of the ballroom, staring up at the array of intricate chandeliers in wonder. The velvet fabric hanging off the walls, the couples swirling about on the dance floor, the suited and tuxedoed businessmen standing in groups, no doubt with vast sums of money slipping from their lips-it was all very elaborate. Overflowing with wealth. The aura of sophistication, if not the substance.
And she would never belong. Not in this capacity.
I suppose it's all good practice for when I am hired for my first museum job-
Then she would be able to navigate this world on her own terms.
Not as someone's prisoner.
She reached the drinks table with its heavy white tablecloth, rows and rows of gold-dipped champagne flutes extending as far as she could see. Selecting a full glass of the honey-colored liquid, she turned her back to the table and surveyed the room, lifting the flute to her lips.
The sweet liquid was refreshing. Almost calming. Softening her limbs, the rigid arrangement of her features. Flow.
She took another sip before she caught a glimpse of Seto from across the room. Still waiting for her. Arms still crossed. Eyes searching for her. Subtly. Piercingly.
Ruthlessly.
Their eyes met; she felt trapped once again.
Letting out a soft sigh of resignation, she took another sip of champagne and began to make her way back to her captor, bobbing and weaving gracefully to avoid running into the various clusters of guests, all looking perfectly comfortable-like they belonged in this lavish place-
And then she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Miss Ishtar…"
She stiffened reflexively, a shudder of alarm running through her body. Who-
Swallowing the surprise bubbling within, she pasted a gentle smile on her face and turned to face the bearer of the errant hand. "Y-yes?"
Ziegfried…
The pink-haired man in the rather ostentatious mauve suit bowed his head, his eyes wolfish and twinkling. "I was wondering if I might trouble you for a dance?"
Ishizu's mouth went dry.
That bastard-
Seto pressed his lips together in a thin line as he saw the host of the party accost his date. His. Wave away her muted protests with a fluttery gesture of the hand. Pluck the half-full champagne flute from her fingers and smoothly place it upon the tray of a passing waiter. Run his hand along her bare arm to grasp at her hand. Lead her, ignoring Ishizu's clear discomfort, onto the dance floor, where several couples made way for the evening's host and his rather alarmed dance partner.
Put his hand on her waist-how dare he-as he began to guide her around and around in a waltz; Ishizu merely following, gliding smoothly; as the couple turned, Seto caught glimpses of her face-perfectly blank. Serene. Neutral.
Nothing like the light he'd briefly seen shining in her eyes-
-before he'd opened the door to her room-
-seen that fragile light die-
Seto wasn't sure why, but he suddenly felt acutely-irrationally-angry with Ziegfried. Bile twisted in his stomach, his chest suddenly filling with searing heat. Crackling. Flickering painfully-incessantly-
Before he was fully cognizant of what he was doing, he found himself scowling. Legs moving. Cutting indifferently-rudely-through various strands of partygoers, prompting offended glances and responses. Long strides toward the dance floor.
"So, Miss Ishtar-how long have you and my dear friend Seto been seeing one another?" Ziegfried cooed, his hand pressing insistently against her waist, her hand sealed within his firm grasp as she gripped onto his shoulder, hanging on for dear life as he swung her around and around. Gods preserve me-
Before she could pretend to smile innocently, give the answer she'd miraculously been able to conjure up the previous night, Ziegfried continued speaking, his heavy accent containing a trace of something murky and dark. "You know, Seto and I have been acquainted for several years now-you might even say I taught him a few things about technology-"
"Ahem."
For the first time in her life, Ishizu was …relieved to hear that husky drawl.
Better the devil I know than the one I don't, I suppose-
"May I cut in?" Seto's voice made it clear that it wasn't exactly a question.
A flash of something unreadable in Ziegfried's eyes. "Ah, of course, Seto-I was just telling your delectable date-"
"Oh, I know what you were trying to do, Ziegfried." Smirking in quiet victory as Ziegfried dropped his hands from Ishizu. She took a sharp, short, subtle breath as the pink-haired man bowed low before her.
"Well, Miss Ishtar-perhaps another time-"
"Of course, Mr. von Schroeder," she demurred, bowing her head politely. Like hell.
As their host rebuttoned his suit jacket in a rather dramatic fashion, turned on his high-heeled boot and left, Ishizu allowed herself a moment of respite. The muscles in her back unclenching, her jaw loosening its tightly wound tension. That strange man-
As the music swelled back up again, she heard Seto's voice in her ears. Low. A question.
"Would you care to dance, Ishizu…?"
Ishizu bit the inside of her cheek and looked up at Seto, her eyes searching his own. Looking for that trace of guile. Of ice. Studying his slightly flushed cheeks. Noting the repeated swallowing of his throat, the slight bouncing of his chin. Him licking his lips quickly, then once more as if he hadn't succeeded properly the first time-
Almost as if he is-
-nervous?
She bit back a whoop of triumph as she replied, voice subdued. Gentle. Nearly shy. A delicate brush, painting only pastel colors. "O-of course, Seto."
Let's see how he reacts-
His expression softened for the barest instant; Ishizu could have sworn she dreamt the shift as Seto's face quickly became unreadable once more. He smoothly moved his hand to her waist as she lifted her hand to his shoulder; his free hand grasped her own lightly as he began to lead them around the dance floor.
She was so close. So close. Close enough for him to smell the fine, flowery perfume Yugi had bought her-close enough to see the slight crinkle in her forehead as she focused on the steps-the twitch of her eyebrow as their legs knocked together unintentionally-close enough to feel the breath she took as he guided her carefully. Gingerly. As if he were holding the most delicate glass in his hands.
-as if they were the only two people in the room-
He almost felt ill.
As Seto stared hard above her head, clearly focused on the dance-on the nearness of her, Ishizu, nearly pressed against his chest where he couldn't see, permitted herself a small smile. His heart-
His pulse-
They're racing.
You're such an easy mark, Seto Kaiba…
She'd almost grown used to the endless crowd-screaming-clamoring-for their attention as Seto led her back to the limousine. He opened the door, allowing her to slide in, pulling her skirts around her as Seto climbed in after her and shut the door. Shutting out the noise. The night. Sealing them inside.
Ishizu leaned back against the seat, allowing herself to melt into the plush leather, as she turned her head to look out the tinted window, as if the fleeting city streets were of utmost interest to her. Streetlights glowing amber-some stragglers making their way along the sidewalks-going places she could never fathom-
All of them freer than she.
Her expression hardened slightly as she folded her hands in her lap.
Vinegar.
Ice.
A stone.
Make him want it.
Seto crossed his legs as his gaze flitted over to her. Illuminated by moonlight streaming in through the backseat window, her dark hair flowing about her shoulders, the beads on her dress shimmering in the faded, thin light-
He couldn't resist dropping his gaze to her hands. The long fingers. Short, practical fingernails, painted a clear color. Clasped casually across her thighs. A thin layer of lace separating flesh from flesh. Her waist, demarcated attractively by that stretch of shiny ribbon-eyes trailing upward-
I will not go down this road, dammit-
It is highly inappropriate for me to even look at her this way-
-let alone think of her in such a way-
He clenched his fists, nails digging in almost deep enough to draw blood, as he dragged his gaze to look out his own window.
As Roland pulled up in front of Kaiba Manor, Ishizu opened her door, ducked out of the vehicle, and walked around the back of the car, her gaze meeting Seto's as he climbed out of the limousine and shut his door behind him.
Then it was through the double doors of the house, past the thick white columns of the façade, the red-and-white brick, as he led her through the endless maze of hallways and staircases until they reached the room.
She would never refer to it as hers-
His slender fingers unlocking the lock. Looking down at her, eyes suddenly bright. Strange in the dim lighting of the hallway-
Almost expectant-
"Thank you."
And as Ishizu picked up her skirts and crossed the threshold into the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her, she allowed herself a smirk.
Lay the bait-
Seto stood there for a moment, looking at the door, words struggling to crawl out of his throat and drop from his lips.
Well, at least she didn't try to seduce me again…
-right?-
As he made his way back to his quarters, loosening his bowtie with careless, impatient fingers, his palms began to itch.
As if they remembered the feel of her hand-of her back-and missed them sorely.
Seto gulped as he stuffed his bowtie in his pants pocket, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt for good measure.
Those eyes-
Last night-
Her intoxicated-intoxicating-stare as she untied his tie… her trembling lips as she scooted closer-moving her hands to grasp at his shoulders-
-nearly making him forget himself-
Without fully realizing it, he found himself, instead of completing the journey to his chambers in the adjacent wing of the Manor, taking the steps ever downward. To where the moonlight no longer shimmered in through the windows and the warm yellow artificial lamplight was king. To the basement. To the control room.
Where the monitors were-
Why do I feel the need to look at her again-
-in this way-
He swallowed hard as he submitted once more to the retinal scan. The door peeling open. Joseph's unkempt blond hair greeted him, his feet on the desk much like Tristan's had been that morning. Seto sighed to himself as he announced his presence. "Good evening, Mr. Wheeler…" I do hope he hasn't been sleeping on the job-
"Good evening, Mr. Kaiba-" The bulky blond quickly adjusted himself in the swivel chair as Seto entered the room and stood behind him, eyes doing a perfunctory sweep of the various cameras-the two surveying the front yard, the two tracking the back, the one installed above the door to his quarters, and the one planted by the security apparatus outside his personal study…
And the recently added seventh camera, installed in Ishizu's room.
Ishizu slipped off her heels and laid them out carefully by the foot of the bed. Trying to hide the sudden shallowness of her breathing. Her hesitation. Trepidation at the idea swirling around in her mind.
Her thick, sluggish disgust at what she had to do-would have-to do to earn her revenge-
But oh, how sweet it would be-
To see him suffer for the threats he made against my family.
And now for the trap-
Lifting her arms above her head as if to stretch, she turned and walked away from the bed. Towards the center of the room.
Right in full view of the camera.
And, smiling inwardly, she began to unfasten the buttons to her dress.
Seto and Joseph both gave a start at the same time at the image on the seventh screen. "Uh-Mr. Kaiba-is she-"
Stripping-
-in front of the camera-
Seto's jaw nearly hit his chest, hands beginning to shake ever-so-slightly as Ishizu slipped out of the gown. Head and eyes lowered, as if she weren't particularly thinking about anything-in her own little world. Letting the magnificent garment drop to the floor, where it pooled around her feet.
The moonlight trickling in through the window illuminating her-gliding across her form-
She brushed her hair over her shoulders, moving the well-maintained waves to fall down her back. Straightened her posture, then rolled her shoulders back, allowing her back to form a graceful arch, before she rolled her neck clockwise, then counterclockwise. Lowering her lids halfway. That sleepily seductive look imbuing her features with imagined want.
I-I ought to turn off the monitor-give her some-some privacy-
Seto's lower lip was almost bleeding from how much, and how roughly, he'd been gnawing on it for the past few seconds.
I-I ought to-
Yet the words-the order to Joseph-wouldn't come out-
He could only continue to stare, transfixed-
Ishizu, very deliberately putting on a show of absent-mindedness, turned to face away from the camera. A slight, purposely unconscious-looking sway in her hips.
Checkmate, Seto Kaiba.
And then she grinned broadly, almost ferally, knowing no one could see her face, and tugged her panties down her legs.
Seto Kaiba was not the fainting type.
Yet he felt impossibly light-headed-confused-dare he say it-aroused at the sight before him-
-she's-
-naked-
I'm going to hell, aren't I-
Sleep would clearly evade him tonight.