Author's note: Sorry for the delay-as you can see, this is the longest chapter yet! We delve into lots of emotions here-and the nature of our protagonists' relationship is forever changed...
As always, please read/review/fave/follow! Thank you!
After this chapter, there will be three left. Home stretch now!
She was there again.
At the bedside, the sterile hospital smell invading her nostrils. Made her feel like she was breathing it in and out. Suffused. Feeling the chill of the linoleum floor beneath her bare feet. settle in her bones.
Her head bowed. Tears streaming down her cheeks silently in tiny hot rivulets. Wisps of hair sticking to her face.
She couldn't look. Not at her mother. Not like this.
And there was nothing she could do.
Beside her, Odion was openly sobbing. Nose dripping onto his shirt. His tiny, chubby hand in hers growing sweaty, he squeezing a little too hard. A dull throbbing shooting up her arm.
But Ishizu didn't feel it much. Numb and empty. Scraping out from within. Leaving her out to dry.
The endless, steady beep-beep-beep-- laughing at them all. The sound robotic and unsympathetic.
On the other side of the bed, their father. Holding a tiny mewling bundle in his arms carefully. Cradling the tiny blond head in his hand.
Looking lovingly at the woman in the bed. Sadly. Like each moment of eye contact would be the last between him and his wife.
Because each could be the last.
And then the wan, bedridden woman's eyes fluttered shut for the last time. Her hollowed cheeks softening and settling. Her always-furrowed brow smoothing out for good. The pulse beneath her skin slowing. Stopping.
The heart monitor flatlining.
Finality.
Ishizu heard the nurses in their scrubs behind her whispering darkly. Muttering harshly under their breaths. "She shouldn't have had another child-not with her condition-"
"-what was her husband thinking-"
As if she couldn't hear. Odion wasn't old enough to understand what cruel words they were saying as they hovered in the air like motes of dust. His own wails drowning nearly drowning them out anyway.
Her father was too far away to hear. Too wrapped in his own disbelief as he clutched finicky Marik to his chest. A single tear working its way along his nose and into his beard.
The nurses fell silent, half-uttered words hanging on her lips as Mr. Ishtar walked slowly around the bed. Bent down slightly as he proffered the bundle.
"I-Ishizu-I'm sorry." Voice broken.
She'd never seen her father like this-
"C-could you hold Marik for a moment? I-I have t-to make some calls-"
Ishizu let go of Odion's moist hand and briefly wiped her face on her sleeve. Extended her arms. Accepted Marik in his light blue blanket, the infant fussing, waving his fist listlessly in the air. Tiny sounds dropping issuing from his toothless, gummy mouth. Incoherent but understandable.
Even he could tell something was wrong.
One of the nurses followed Mr. Ishtar out of the room as the other turned to the plastic countertop to fill out some paperwork. Their father's gait shaky and uneven. Limping. Like he'd lost his sense of balance. A central part of himself-something essential to his very being. Without which he was rendered half. Unwhole.
Ishizu caught a glimpse of her father burying his face in his hands as the door swung shut.
She cradled Marik's small, round head dusted with pale hairs in the crook of her elbow as she sat down slowly. Carefully. Crossing her legs, her absurdly cheerful floral skirt spreading around her. Odion looked to her, eyes still wide, still crying up to the point of gasping; she balanced Marik's legs in her other elbow as she motioned for Odion to sit down beside her.
The bald boy did, swallowing another sob as he pressed his damp face into Ishizu's shoulder. His cries of agony only slightly muffled by the material of her shirt.
Ishizu took a deep breath, her chest beginning to hurt as she looked at her two little brothers. Odion. Only three to her seven. Hardly old enough to understand anything, but old enough to understand this. That their mother wouldn't be coming home again.
And Marik. A newborn. Barely a few weeks old. Face still a scrunchy soft balloon all patched up with red. He would never know their mother. The woman who had carried him and delivered him without complaint. Only love. Nothing but love in her eyes as she'd seen her second son for the first time. Brushed a kiss on his wet forehead before they'd taken him away.
And never again.
I have to be their mother now-
"Odion." She waited for her brother to lift his head from where it was buried in soft fabric. His dark eyes meeting hers, his lower lip wobbling.
"Yeth, Ithizthu?" His shoulders shook in a hiccup. He'd lost his two front teeth earlier that month, she remembered, giving him an adorable little lisp.
"And Marik-" She looked down at the bundle in her arms. Dipped her finger in the blanket to stroke his soft, downy cheek. The infant wrapped his own minute hand around her finger, his lavender eyes impossibly wide.
"Mother is gone. You understand, Odion? She can't come home again."
Odion nodded slowly. Ishizu smiled sadly and reached out her sleeve to wipe the end of his nose.
"I'll protect you now. Okay?" Her voice was quiet but firm. Prenaturally so. She'd always been mature for her age. Her blue-green eyes seeing and comprehending more than people though.
"I won't let anything hurt you again. I promise."
Then-
The three of them. Standing around the cold marble headstone. Simple. Name. Dates of birth and death. Dearly beloved. Sorely missed.
The dirt still fresh and damp from being moved.
Marik, now eighteen and usually so full of life, leaned his head on her shoulder, his glasses sliding down his nose as his eyes filled with tears. Odion, quiet and stoic at twenty-one, folded his hands in front of him and tried not to cry. The tattoos on his face distorting as he twisted his mouth, narrowed his eyes. Suppressed.
Ishizu held the bouquet of white roses, all tied nicely with a white ribbon. Mouth a thin line. Eyes dull.
The sky misty. Gray. The air heavy and wet. Cold. The faint cawing of crows littering the absolute quietude of the graveyard.
She gently lifted Marik's head from her shoulder as she took a few steps forward, her low heels sinking into thinly distributed soil. Laid the bouquet at the bottom of the headstone, then turned around, holding her black coat closed as she walked back over to where her brothers stood.
"Father…" Marik wiped his face with the back of his hand.
First Mother.
Then Father-
We are all we have now.
"You'll have to take over, you know." Odion's gravelly voice. Addressing Marik.
Marik nodded miserably, removing his glasses to wipe them clean on his tie. "I know."
It would never be the same.
Ishizu came to stand between her two brothers and extended her hands to them, feeling Marik's hand squeeze hers hard, like she was his anchor. Odion's rougher hand nearly enveloping her own.
"Marik…" Ishizu wetted her lips, willing herself not to cry.
"When Mother died, I made you and Odion a promise." She felt Odion give a start, his hand growing rigid in her own. He remembers-
"I promised I would protect you. Father was never the same after she passed, and-well-" She swallowed hard, the words tasting impossibly bitter on her tongue. "I told both of you in that hospital room that I wouldn't let anything hurt you again."
-I must keep that promise now. More than ever. As the eldest-
"Even though I have to go back to school soon-just-" Warm, salty tears threatening to spill over. Render her a crumpled mess.
"Just know that my promise still holds."
I will never let anything hurt you ever again-
Ishizu woke up in a cold sweat, skin covered in icy gooseflesh. Breath coming out in shallow spurts. No. No. No. I'm not there. I'm not there.
No. No. No-
The moonlight still streaming through the window. Diffused by curtains. Flickering. Bed. Coverlet. Sheets.
She let out a faint cry before she could stop herself. Her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the pained sound. Her eyes blurred with fresh tears-she couldn't stop a few from pooling. Clinging to her lashes. Dripping down her face.
"I-Ishizu?" Like he was ripped from a dream. Voice hazy and faint.
Ishizu's heart stopped. Everything gone to ribbons around her. Fraying.
No-he can't see me like this-
-not when it's real-
Seto yawned then, propping himself up on his elbows as he turned to face her. Brown hair ruffled almost rakishly. Eyes wide with concern, lips parted as if to say something.
-what can I say to her?
Ishizu's body wracked through with fresh shuddering as more tears threatened to spill. Not this-no-not like this-
-blast-
She felt naked.
Uncomfortably so.
His eyes fixed on her face. Like that.
She almost wished his gaze would drop to her exposed breasts. Take in her nearly-nude form. Look at her like he usually did-with hunger. Need. To touch her.
Wished that he wouldn't look at her in quite that way. Like he wanted to pull her to his chest and soothe all worries. All fears. Let her cry it out, wrapped up in his arms. Allow her tears to soak his shirt. Her scrabbling fingers to ruin his buttons. All of that not mattering to him-the only thing of importance being her comfort.
Seto sat up fully and rubbed his eyes. Brushed his bangs out of his eyes. All the while watching her face with a careful gaze.
Disgustingly intimate-
"I-Miss Ishtar-" he began, then stopped. Chewed on the inside of his check. Searched her face intently-for what, he wasn't quite sure.
Surely I would be overstepping my bounds-
-would she even accept comfort-from me-
Ishizu looked away from him then, her eyes fixing on the coverlet. Her two fistfuls of fabric she hadn't even realized she'd made. Gripping tightly, the strain only now registering in her wrists as pain.
Her breath still catching on itself. Overlapping roughly, still coming out as sharp, inhuman sounds.
"It was just a bad dream, Seto." Tried to keep her voice even. The thickness in her throat under control. Tried to ignore the wetness of her cheeks, soaked through with tears. Running down her neck, her chest. As if she were drowning.
It was more than a bad dream-
-it was a warning.
I couldn't go through with it earlier-
-I must do it today.
I have to.
No one who threatens my family may get away unscathed…
Seto's eyes were obscenely soft as he continued to look at her. His hand in his lap trembling as he considered reaching out to her. To pat her on the shoulder, her back, anything.
I likely was the source of the nightmare-
-keeping her here like this-
Through her tears, Ishizu glared darkly at him, lifting the coverlet to cover her up to her shoulders. Covering herself.
Too exposed still.
Do not dare to pity me, Seto Kaiba…
He licked his lips, shame hurtling through him. His stomach filling with bile. Mouth tasting bitter.
Perhaps-
-perhaps-
"M-Miss Ishtar-is there anything I might be able to-" He stopped. Watched her face carefully. The narrowing of her eyes as a few final errant tears slipped from her lashes onto heated cheeks. Spilling down the sides of her face as she considered him. What he was offering. So tentatively. Furtively.
Ishizu used her thumb to wipe away the remaining tears, her breath having finally calmed down.
I wouldn't have thought Seto Kaiba would have a penchant for-
-for comforting-
She imagined it then-
-herself, tangled and intertwined with the man lying beside her. His hands roaming her body smoothly, almost in a petting motion. Making sure she was comfortable. Comforted. Sleeping soundly. The steadiness of his breath imbuing her with quietude.
And then-to wake up in those arms-
She dismissed the rather tempting thought, such that it was, as she swallowed hard. "No-just-I'm sorry for waking you, Seto. It's nothing, I assure you. Just a bad dream." She turned away from Seto then, laying her head on one of the pillows that remained pressed up against the headboard and curling up onto her side. The coverlet sliding down her shoulder, revealing skin. Dark locks of silken hair sliding across her upper back.
Seto exhaled slowly. Lowered himself back under the coverlet and pulled it up to his neck, then slid his hands to rest onto his stomach. Trying to ignore the rather uncomfortable way his belt was digging into his lower back-
-if I were to start taking that off, no doubt that would be wholly and utterly inappropriate-she'd get the wrong idea about what I was doing-think I was expecting something of her-
He closed his eyes and waited for his brow to unfurrow. His breathing to even out. Slumber-such that is was, all torn through with painfully needful dreams of the woman lying beside him-to claim him.
And then he felt it-
Ishizu shifting in the bed. Coming to lie on her stomach.
A delicate hand grasping at his wrist. Hers-
Then sliding across, climbing over his wrist to cup the back of his hand. Softly. Waiting.
He turned his head to look at her, and was startled by her gaze, his heart beginning to beat wildly in his chest. Hummingbird-esque. The softness of her look. The plain innocence of her round eyes. The gentle parting of her lips. As if she wished to say something. Anything. Unable to find proper words.
The tentative way her hand rested upon his. As if waiting for him to entwine his fingers in hers.
He had wanted to offer comfort, hadn't he?
In whatever small way he could?
His jaw clenched tightly for a moment as he slowly turned his hand over, the palm facing upwards. Ishizu's hand slid down to fill it. Her fingers lacing through his as she gently moved their clasped hands towards the center of the bed. Her hand pinning his to the soft sheets. Wanting him to stay there. With her.
"Ishi-Miss Ishtar-" Seto whispered, cheeks flooding with heat, stammering slightly as he looked back at her face. What is she-
But her eyes had since closed, her thick lashes falling still. Her back beginning to move as sleep filled her slowly, all cloudlike and bright. Soothed her. Her breaths falling even as her hand squeezed his once last time, then relaxed.
As Seto lay there, his hand in hers, willing-praying-his heart rate to slow-for sleep to finally give him blessed rest-the remaining moonlight covered its face with the warm cloak of dawn and the first delicate rays of sunlight sprinkled themselves across the horizon.
Ishizu awoke to knocking.
Not Seto's brusque three rap-rap-raps-
Something rather more like a furious flurry-
Ishizu yawned and sat up in the bed, squinting at the unmercifully bright sunlight cracking, whiplike, across her eyelids. Who could it be-at this hour-
She swung her legs out of the bed. "Who is it?" She rushed over to the dresser, pulling a strapless dress down over her head-before approaching the door and opening it to find-
"Yugi?" Ishizu's natural inclination to smile at the small man was disrupted by surprise at his early visit-surprise at the perfectly alarmed look frozen on his face-at his harsh, uneven breathing as he took her free hand in his trembling ones, then pulled her into a tight hug.
"Y-Yugi?" Ishizu managed to sputter out as she patted him on the back tentatively, guiding them both back through the doorway and managing to push the door closed behind them, all while still trapped in Yugi's tight embrace.
"I-Ishizu-my god-are you all right-?" Yugi let go of her and moved his hands to her cheeks, pulling her face down slightly so that his wide violet eyes could examine her every microexpression.
If Mr. Kaiba-though I couldn't believe it myself-
Ishizu, now beginning to be slightly concerned at Yugi's rather strange behavior, her pulse beginning to race under her skin, backed away from him. Eyebrows raised. "Why wouldn't I be all right, Yugi…?"
I know Yugi's on my side in this particular matter-but Seto hasn't-he hasn't done anything untoward-nothing against my wishes, I'll give the asshole that much-
Yugi's eyes grew even rounder with worry. "Ishizu-you do realize that we all know what's been going on between you and Mr. Kaiba… the dinners-the way he sleeps in here with you each night-and-well-the way you two-um--last night-"
Kissed.
Ishizu's cheeks flushed red at the memory of that searing kiss. What it had made her want-
Blast-
Pressing her inner thighs together where she stood, she tried to speak in her usual controlled, placid tone. "Yugi-"
Yugi went on, his voice picking up in speed, words nearly slurring together breathlessly. "And-and-Ishizu-you realize, of course, that it's completely inappropriate for him to touch you that way-I mean-given your situation-" His cheeks colored as he went on, his voice becoming increasingly ragged. "And-and-well, I do think my employer is a decent man-but if what I-what we all saw last night is to be believed, Ishizu-well-"
He hung his head for a moment, shoulders shuddering with nervous energy. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were blazingly bright. Almost maroon.
"If what happened last night, Ishizu, is to be believed-I daresay I can no longer in good conscience call Mr. Kaiba a good man."
And the rest of us-Téa, Joey, Tristan, Serenity, Miho, and my grandfather-
His words hung in the air as Ishizu grasped at the gravity of them.
"Yugi-" She folded her hands before her, willing herself to remain calm-not to cry at the beauty of this gesture-what he was implying-the kind of support she'd culled-
"Please-I know you won't believe me, but-I initiated all of that. All of those things. Not Seto-he wouldn't have dreamt of doing something like that. I'm the one who invited him into my bed-I'm the one who-well-"
Made him kiss me.
Yugi's gaze now skeptical, his lower lip wobbling, forehead crinkling as he struggled to figure out the meaning of her words.
Ishizu-what kind of game are you playing-?
The space between them heavily silent. Ishizu looked down at her bare feet, trying to hide the efflorescent blooming of her cheeks. The color spreading to her neck, heating her from within most uncomfortably as Yugi studied her intently.
"Ishizu… but why?" Yugi's voice, when it finally emerged, was faint and bewildered. He began to chew on his lower lip, his hands reaching towards her, shaking slightly.
"Ah." Ishizu lifted her eyes, struggling to meet his gaze. Looking anywhere but his eyes-those eyes that, once in contact with hers, would surely see what was twisting and roiling within her-would see far too much-
What can I even say to possibly explain-
"Because I- because I wanted to, Yugi." Her voice, quiet but determined, lingered in the space between them as Yugi took a step towards her, tenderly placing her hands in his.
If what Téa ascertained from Mr. Kaiba's behavior on the matter was true-
"Oh dear…" Yugi murmured to himself, faintly, but not faint enough for Ishizu to miss his words.
Indeed, Yugi, indeed.
Though "oh dear" doesn't begin to cover the mess I've found myself in-
Then-
Rap-rap-rap-
Blast-it's Seto-
"You need to leave, Yugi-" Ishizu whispered, panic seeping into her as her eyes darted wildly around the room-could he hide somewhere? He's rather small-
Yugi's lips curled up in a sad smile as he walked over to the dresser and took several of the dresses hanging on hangers into his arms. "Go open the door, Ishizu."
Ishizu nodded and approached the door, already feeling the flush on her cheeks reappear as she pulled it open to find Seto, as usual, perfectly suited in dark gray and a blue tie, carrying a tray before him.
He raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of Yugi, arms piled high with Ishizu's dresses, striding towards the doorway as if nothing were wrong. As if nothing were amiss. Turned about all strangely and incomprehensibly.
"I'll have these all fixed up for you by the end of the day, Ishizu…" Yugi said lightly, almost cheerily, through the armful of clothing as he walked past the confused Seto and exited into the corridor, his footsteps growing fainter and fainter.
"What was that about, Miss Ishtar?" Seto asked, crossing the threshold into the room and walking over towards the coffee table.
Ishizu closed the door and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Thank the gods he didn't act oddly-
Voice calm. Perfectly innocuous. "Oh, I had a few dresses that needed some adjustments. Some mending. Bit of wear and tear from walking about the grounds with Mokuba and everything…" She walked over to Seto and took her seat, her mind idling on the strange fact of her being so clothed in front of Seto for a change.
Seto almost regretted her choice in attire, though he was unable to look away from that neckline of her dress. How it concealed and revealed in equal measure the curves of her-
He tore his eyes to the pitcher of coffee and leaned over, pouring himself a cup, as Ishizu reached for the plate laden with pancakes, then took in hand the small spoon beside the plate and scooped some powdered sugar on top of the golden-brown stack.
Seto watched, teacup at halfway to his mouth, as she licked her lips in anticipation of this most decadent of breakfasts.
Not now-
-dammit-
-seriously-
The room fell silent as Seto sipped his piping hot coffee and Ishizu dug into her breakfast with gusto; soon only Ishizu's rather distracting sounds of pleasure as she finished the pancakes quickly, getting some powdered sugar on her nose in the process-a move which nearly made Seto keel over with how damned adorable she looked-were the only noises to be heard throughout the vast chamber.
All talk of the travails between them in the early morning intentionally going unmentioned.
Ishizu placed her empty plate back onto the table and sat up straight, folding her hands demurely in her lap and crossing her legs at the ankle. Not daring to look at him looking at her. Her eyes directed to her skirts.
Seeing his lingering, ever-present hunger for her in his eyes was one thing. A welcome distraction, if she were to be entirely honest with herself-
But I cannot bear if it he pities me-the behavior I displayed this morning-
-appalling-
She reached for a teacup and filled it with coffee, bringing the steaming beverage to her lips and taking a small sip.
Now-
I need to get in his office.
Move forward with it-
"Um… Seto?" she murmured quietly, delicately, still looking down at her lap. Hunching her shoulders slightly. Supplicant. Submissive. Innocent.
"Nn?" Seto placed his empty teacup back on the table and crossed his legs, turning towards her slightly in his chair.
"Could I-could I ask you a favor?" She turned large, round eyes towards him. Taking her lower lip in her mouth briefly, allowing her brows to come together in the perfect picture of worry.
Seto stiffened slightly, the clear pain in her manner registering with a sharp pang.
Of course… what could she need-
"You may."
Ishizu didn't blink for several moments, looking upwards and allowing her eyes to fill with tears as she regarded him once more. The tears threatening to spill-to litter her face, drawn from thick lashes…
"You remember the phone call I made yesterday-when I was talking to Marik about Odion's health?"
Seto nodded intently, remembering how crestfallen she'd looked when she'd hung up the phone-how he'd almost buckled then. Attempted, in his own useless, forlorn way, to offer her comfort-before Téa had asked to speak with him-
"Well-you see-I promised I would call home today-to speak with Odion since he-he was having those tests done-"
"Of course, Miss Ishtar-I have no problem with you using the phone, as you well know…"
Ishizu bit back an aggrieved sigh, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Well-that's where the favor comes in. You see…" She turned in her seat to face him more fully. "I-it's not that I don't trust you, Seto-and I thank you for your kindness to me thus far-it's that-well-when I talk on the phone with Odion, we will likely discussing things of a rather… confidential medical nature-and, as I said-it's not that I don't trust you, Seto-" She clasped her hands in her lap and induced a slight shaking motion. As if she were frightened of the very thing she were asking for.
"I-I would like to be able to use your private study line, Seto-because I know there's no chance of anyone picking up the line and eavesdropping…" She looked down at her hands mousily once more.
Seto narrowed his eyes, mind racing. Ought I-
Can I trust her that much-?
"You can even dial the number and everything-and you can speak to Marik or Odion or whoever picks up first so that you know I'm telling you the truth-" She blinked. Allowed a tear to snake down the side of her face, making Seto blanch.
Well, I suppose-
If I dial the number and confirm with whom she is speaking-
-I see no issue with that.
"I will allow that, Miss Ishtar." His voice was firm. Almost brusque as he rose, taking the tray in hand. "But as I have to be at the office today, let's have that phone call happen now."
As Seto walked over to the door, Ishizu in tow, she couldn't resist cracking a crooked grin where he couldn't see.
Excellent.
Easier than I anticipated-
Now to do it.
After handing off the tray to one of the maids walking the walls, Seto led Ishizu through what seemed to be a positively endless made of corridors and stairs until they arrived at a door at the end of a long, rather dim hallway. Various clicking and beeping noises sounded in the air as Seto stepped forward, submitted to an eye-scan, a thumbprint scan, and typed in an extremely long alphanumeric passcode so quickly that Ishizu couldn't catch sight of one digit-
And then the door slid into the wall, the warm daylight coming in through the windows of Seto's office leaking into the hallway, and with a slight smile of pride, Seto stepped aside and gestured for Ishizu to enter the office.
Her feet pressing into plush carpet. The room small but incredibly well-appointed. A large antique wooden desk stood by the back wall, in front of two windows. A stuffed couch lying across from the desk, its dark blue surface matching nicely with the same-colored trim on the cream-colored walls. The carpet beneath her feet was a lovely abstract mass of cream and dark blue, same as the rest of the decorations, but mingled throughout with bursts here and there of pale blues and luminous, shining dark reds, as if the carpet reflected the sky at all hours of the day or night.
Hanging on the wall above the couch was a particularly well-done portrait of Seto Kaiba-though he looked different in the painting, his features slightly rounder than those of the man beside her, his usual dark suit swapped out for a rather ostentatious-looking white trenchcoat and black turtleneck, with flamboyant buckles tied around his arms for no apparent reason.
"You've a lovely office, Seto…" Ishizu nearly whispered, marveling at how lovely and light and airy the space was, with a small skylight in the ceiling allowing even more warmth and brightness to penetrate through to the space.
Seto smirked. "I have excellent taste, Miss Ishtar. Now, if you'll follow me-I'll dial the phone for you right away."
Ishizu nodded and followed Seto over the desk, where he leaned against the desk and lifted the phone lying on the desk to his ear. "Number, please."
She folded her hands behind her back and told him dutifully, watching with a small hint of pleasure the annoyed look that appeared on Seto's face as the phone rang several times, then jumped as Seto nearly barked into the phone, "Ishtar-your sister is calling for you-"
He abruptly handed the phone off to Ishizu, crossing his arms in front of his chest and trying to hide with a scowl the concern he felt-somehow-for Ishizu's and her brother's situation that was currently gnawing at him. Hard. Acidly.
"M-Marik-" Ishizu began, pressing the phone her ear, only to be cut off by Odion's gruff, low voice.
"It's me, Sister." Odion pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, warily casting a glance at their youngest brother, who was curled up on the couch, clutching a pillow to his chest, clearly distraught.
"O-Odion-I'm so glad to hear from you-" she began, pasting a smile on her face for Seto's benefit as he watched her intently. Perhaps regretting his strange trust in her in this moment.
Odion sounded cross over the phone-his voice was always especially gravelly when he was upset. "Sister-what is it you're doing-why did you tell Marik some falsehood about me?"
Ishizu fought back the urge to roll her eyes.
Not helping, Odion-
Lacing a hint of worry into her voice, she piped up, "a-and how did-the results-" She lifted a hand briefly to flutter before her face, as if trying to prevent herself from crying as she sniffed loudly.
"Ishizu-what is Ra's name are you doing? What kind of game are you playing?" Odion's voice rose in pitch and in volume, forcing Ishizu to move her free hand to subtly cover the receiver-suppress all errant sound that would tip Seto off-
She pressed her lips together and nodded to herself. "Ah-I see. I'm glad to hear that, Odion-is there anything else?"
Odion moved the handset away from his ear and cast a quizzical glance at Marik, who by now had risen from the couch, lavender eyes wide with fright and curiosity, gnawing furiously at his lower lip.
Is she speaking in some sort of code-?
-this is too strange-
-could she be trying to ask for help-with that bastard listening in she can't properly say anything-
"O-Odion-" whispered Marik; Odion lifted a finger to silence his brother.
"Ishizu-please answer me, 'yes' or 'no'. Are you all right?" His voice was pained. Thin. Like a taut string. So different from his normal even tone.
Ishizu licked her lips, inhaling sharply. They must be worried about me-with all the strange things I'm saying-
"Yes, Odion. I'm all right. Now, please-about the other tests?"
Odion gritted his teeth, searing panic loosing itself in his veins. "Sister, please, what bloody tests are you referring to?"
Ishizu lifted her free hand from the receiver to scratch at the back of her neck. "Okay. All right. Thank you. I'll call you again soon, Odion. I love you, Brother-and please give my love to Marik."
"Ishizu-wait-"
The dull sound of a dial tone blared into his ear. Odion, slightly shaking now, hung up the phone and dropped it onto the kitchen counter. Marik's eyes welling up with tears as he looked up at his older brother, adjusting his glasses with an unsteady hand.
"Brother-Odion-what can she mean-"
"I have no idea, Marik…"
But something's not quite right with her.
Ishizu put the phone back onto the receiver slowly. Forcing her lips to curl into a tiny smile of relief, allowing a tiny hint of light to shine in her eyes as she looked back at Seto.
Now.
He was leaning against the desk next to her, half-sitting, half-standing, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Eyes wide with concern. I do hope her brother is all right-
"I-is-" he began stupidly, almost reeling when Ishizu's face broke out into a dazzling grin, her eyes wet and large. She nodded slowly at first, then enthusiastically, lifting a hand shyly to her lips as if to cover her lovely mouth.
"Y-yes. He's totally fine. Every test came back negative-" The lie, like so many before it, slid easily off her lips as she wrapped her arms around herself, working up a few tears of joy, mingled throughout with breathy half-giggles.
Seto's shoulders unclenched, a faint patch of red blooming on his cheeks as he regarded her. Her startling beauty-her evident happiness in this moment doing strange things to his chest. Twisting it ruthlessly.
"I-I'm delighted to hear that, Miss Ishtar-"
Without thinking, he reached out a hand to her shoulder and squeezed gently. The heat of her bare flesh almost searing him as it all flowed back to him. In merciless waves.
Her skin-
That sweetness in the air as she turned towards him, lifting one hand to his, weaving her fingers through his as she lowered it from her shoulder.
-dammit-
-now this-
-highly inappropriate-
Ishizu licked her lips quickly and held his hand in both of hers, running her fingers slyly along his smooth palm, each tiny wince he made at her not-unwanted touch registering with a strange glee.
She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a low half-whisper, her lips mere inches from his ear. "Thank you so much, Seto-I know it can't have been easy to trust me like that-"
Her scent-
Seto's eyes fluttered shut briefly as her damned voice sent shivers dancing down his spine. Every inch of his skin suddenly coming alive with gooseflesh as she continued to stroke his palm, her slightly callused fingers creating a gorgeous sense of friction that reverberated through him. Smokily. Diffusing.
Oh god-
"Glad I could help-" he managed to choke out as he felt her drop his hands. Her careful, shy fingers suddenly running up his torso, practically burning him through his shirt and undershirt.
"I-I should probably get going to the office." If I can make myself leave the damned room-
Ishizu's fingers tapped on his collarbone through his shirt, voice perfectly even and placid. Curious. "Big meeting today?"
Seto licked his lips briefly, trying to steady his voice. Meaning coming through. Hazily. Slowly. "Ah-no. Nothing like that today-I'm reviewing various product designs and such…"
Her lips at the base of this throat, nearly making him jump. Feeling her smile crookedly against his skin.
"You can take a sick day, can't you…?" The quiet smoothness of her voice reverberating through him, making his hands tremble at his sides.
Now.
Ishizu looked up, caught his gaze with hers, and held it. Effortlessly. Her fingers lightly taking hold of his tie, pulling the expensive dark blue silk oh-so-gently as she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the desk. A few papers floating off the wooden surface as she slowly spread her thighs under her skirt.
Then her hands moved to his suit jacket lapels and tugged. Firmly. Her breath coming now in delicate pants as she looked up at him, eyes both innocent and full of impossible implications. Seto stumbled slightly, thrown off balance by her motions, until he came to face her. Another tug to his lapels and he was directly between her legs, looking down at her with a mixture of awe and helplessness.
"Well?" Her voice was low. Teasing.
I don't understand-
Ishizu felt his posture stiffen from where he stood, her soft thighs pressing against his legs. She took a deep, shaky breath as the effects of his proximity started to soak into her. Fluidly. Heat rising in jolts and sparks throughout her. Pooling needily between her legs. Below her belly. Her eyelids growing heavy, lips parting slightly as she leaned back on his desk, propping herself up on one arm, pulling him with her so that he was poised over her, hands gripping the edge of the desk to hold himself up as he took a step closer, his hips just barely brushing against her inner thighs.
Seto felt her breath shift. Become ragged. Matching his own in this moment. Her eyes, half-lidded and thick-lashed, never leaving his face. His own beginning their customary sweep over her body, beginning with the softness of her lips-softness he knew-the lines and curves of her neck, her collarbone-her shoulders, left bare-the faintest hint of cleavage showing above the neckline of her strapless dress. The promise beckoning him. Nails digging into the hard wood of the desk.
As she wrapped those long, sleek legs around his own, he let out a faint, throaty groan, feeling her hips pressed right up against his, their chests only separated by a hair's breadth. Perfection. Friction. Fire roaring throughout him, every fiber of his being demanding more. More. More-
To hike up her skirt. Pull cotton aside. Touch her. Make her moan the way she had the previous night, when she'd straddled his lap and nearly unmade him with the way she'd melted in his arms as he'd kissed her. Learned her flesh. Memorized the feel of her silk hair in his hands. Her sweet scent flooding him. All he'd known in that beautiful moment had been her. The way their hips had ground together. In anticipation-
Anticipation of this-
Her fingers on his lapels moving, trailing confidently down his shirt. Stopping at his belt buckle. She hooked her fingers around the leather, pulling him even closer, shivering delightfully as she felt his need pressed against her almost roughly. Heard him groan again. Her name.
"Ishizu-"
Something within her cracked open-irretrievably-and poured liquid want into every crevice. Undeniably so. A sunset, red and raw, blooming inside her. Blood boiling beneath the skin. Her heartbeat reverberating in her ears. Begging. Pleading. Insisting-
She felt it then-as if he'd actually done it-was doing it now-his lips working along the shell of her ear. Teeth grazing her neck. His hands sliding under her skirt confidently. Possessively. Grasping her rear. Pulling her ever closer until it was almost too much-
Until she had to have him.
That way.
Her fingers moving back upwards. Crawling slowly, almost cutely, until she reached his neck. Felt his pulse racing under the skin, releasing a tiny cry as one of his hands reached up swiftly and grabbed her wrist. His fingers pressed against the veins, as if seeking to do the same-test her pulse. Gauge her want. His palm so soft, wrapped around her like this-
That same hand leaving, sliding smoothly along the surface of her arm. Moving down to wrap around her back. Pulling her face close to his-close enough to count his pale freckles. Allowing him to breathe into her everything.
Oh, gods-
The way he was looking at her-
The blues darkened beyond recognition. Pupils threatening to swallow all.
Swallow her whole.
Now.
She leaned up and brushed her lips against his. Slowly. Barely. Like he had done the previous night on some whim of genius to tease her. Let's see how he likes that-
The growl that came from his throat was inhuman as he pulled her to him and enveloped her lips with his. Biting her lower lip gently as he pulled her torso upwards, their chests pressing together hard, the feeling of him rubbing needily against her through her skirts already threatening to unmake her entirely. For her to lose control. Give in. Give in.
Let go-
She pulled away for a moment, releasing a thick sigh, before he leaned in again and kissed her, his hand on her back moving quickly, smoothly, twisting bits of fabric in his hand as he slid it underneath her skirt. The softness of her thighs making him want to weep. Her arms shaking already as she wrapped them around his neck, tightening her legs around him as his free hand left the desk and skimmed along her collarbone. Cradling her head, tangling his fingers in her hair as he bent her head back carefully, his lips leaving hers as he began to sow fire under her skin, his lips traveling down her neck. Her hands moving to his shoulders. Pulling him in again.
Now.
With a burst of flames she lifted herself up, the hand on her thigh making her tremble as her fingers raced down his arms. Coming to rest on his belt buckle. Beginning to work the leather through the belt loops with unsteady, rapid fingers. All attention to this. This-
Seto froze then, mind breaking apart into endless screaming bits, fire beginning to course through him as the reality of it all dawned on him.
She wants this-
He lifted his lips from the tender skin of her neck to capture her gaze with his. His eyes suddenly serious. Questioning.
"Are you sure?" The hand moving up her leg stopping its meandering path. Nails dragging circles round and round.
Ishizu nearly whined at the cessation of his ministrations as she dropped his belt to the floor with a clatter. The air heavy and thick and crackling between them.
Now.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
"Yes-" She managed to gasp out as her own haze of arousal threatened to consume her, breathing out a patchy sigh of need as his lips lowered against her neck once more; she could have sworn she made out a hint of a smile pressed to her skin as she gasped aloud-his fingers had found what they had sought.
He's sleeping.
Good.
Ishizu slowly disentangled herself from Seto's heavy limbs, the light snores he was making tickling her skin, and quietly rolled off the couch and onto the carpeted floor. Skin suddenly breaking out in goosebumps. Missing his warmth already as she quickly scanned the floor for her panties.
No such luck.
Blast-
She looked up and caught sight of the desk.
Now.
Quietly, quietly-
Forgoing the search for her panties, she walked around the couch, carefully avoiding getting her feet caught in the various clothes strewn across the carpet-not particularly unwelcome reminders, those-and came to stand before the desk. Lowering herself into the swivel chair as she regarded the wooden surface.
Computer-no chance I can get into that-
The typing on the keyboard would be too loud, anyway-
Her eyes darted over to the couch where Seto was still sleeping. His arm bent around his head in a way that couldn't be comfortable. Bare chest, sprinkled with hair, rising and falling smoothly. One leg bent sharply at the knee. His overall pose rather like that of a Greek sculpture.
She didn't dare to continue looking at that point. Didn't need another small twinge of heated need as she took in the faint trail of dark hairs gathering around his navel-
Don't think about the way he felt-
Sitting up, biting her lip almost to the point of pain, she studied the desk once more.
Let's see what's in these drawers-
Bending over, she extended a hand to the brass handle of the lowest wooden drawer, breathing out a sigh of relief as the well-oiled joints facilitated her near-silent opening of the drawer, its neatly filed papers, all in tabbed folders, sliding to the front.
She climbed out of the chair and came to her knees before the drawer, quickly and adeptly skimming the files with her fingers. Projects-Preliminary, 2008-2009… Projects-Final, 2008-2009… Piles upon piles on drawings for weapons on tracing paper in pencil. Pen-and-ink drawings of the same weapons, rendered in a more confident hand. Then three-dimensional computer-generated renderings of the same weapons. Missiles. Tanks. Bombs. Assault rifles. All fleshed out in perfect, minute detail. The violence inherent in the images seemed so far away, somehow, from the man sleeping on the couch.
The man who had shown up to the Ishtar apartment in the dark that night-what seemed like forever ago. Hawklike and ruthless as he'd made his demands with all the fury of a monster. All the lazy arrogance of a prince.
The man she was going to kill.
So strange-
It's almost like-
-like I don't know him-
She didn't allow herself to dwell upon this line of thought as she poked through the rest of the folders, skimming along various product designs from past years, tax information, impossibly dull-looking corporate forms, all written in a heavily dense and complex language she couldn't begin to make out.
She slid all of the folders towards the front of the drawer, then rummaged around at the back of the drawer to make sure she hadn't missed anything.
Then-
Amidst dust, her questing fingers brushed against a thin slip of paper. So thin-almost like tissue paper, even-
With great care she lifted the sheet of paper out of the back of drawer. Blew a layer of dust off the top of the gray-newsprint, she realized, as the once-bold black letters of the Domino Herald came into focus.
The headline, now clear, reading:
"KaibaCorp CEO dead at 53; Son, 16, to take over…"
Seto's-father?
Something cold flooded her veins as she brushed more dust off the rest of the paper, revealing two black-and-white photographs: the first, of a stern-looking man with a mustache, displaying the beginnings of a double chin; and the second-
The second photograph was of Seto. Younger. Much younger. Sixteen-
In his school uniform, the simple fabric all buttoned up to his neck. His dark hair much the same-a bit long in the back to be entirely fashionable, his bangs falling into his eyes.
His eyes cold and narrowed. Disdainful. The coldness in his eyes, so vivid even in an old photograph, resembling that of the man in the other picture. As if he were superior to everyone and knew it.
That's one Seto Kaiba…
She dropped her eyes from the photograph and kept reading.
"Gozaburo Kaiba, 53, CEO of KaibaCorp was found dead last night outside the KaibaCorp Headquarters. Investigators have already ruled the death a suicide, caused by jumping from the window. His adopted son, Seto Kaiba, 16, has been appointed CEO of the Kaiba Corporation with the approval of the board of managers. Seto Kaiba has also been appointed guardian of his biologically-related brother, Mokuba Kaiba, 10…"
Ishizu felt her heart drop into her stomach as she scanned the rest of the article.
He took over at age sixteen-
-such a young age-
-and to lose his parents, too-I wonder when he and Mokuba were adopted-
His words at their first dinner. "I'd rather not discuss my childhood, Miss Ishtar. Is that understood?"
-there must be something there-buried-
Why did Gozaburo Kaiba kill himself…?
She swallowed hard, then gave a start as she heard a throaty, sleepy groan coming from the other side of the desk. From the couch.
Blast-
-and now I can't go through with it-
-I'll have to wait-
-again-
She carefully moved the newspaper clipping back into its place at the back of the drawer and pushed the drawer closed before tiptoeing back around the desk and scurrying back over to the couch, where Seto was beginning to stir. His lean muscles tensing and relaxing as she slid back onto the couch. Into his arms, her back pressing against his front. Her skin reheating deliciously at the contact with his. His eager hands moving to caress her even as his eyes hadn't yet fluttered open.
"Nnn…" Seto moved his lips down the curve of her neck, his fingernails dragging a lazy pattern around her hipbone as Ishizu shivered in his arms. Skin rippling out in gooseflesh.
-Blast.
-Dammit-
She let out a tiny, almost giggly moan as she rolled over onto her back, her eyes closing reflexively when Seto bent down to press a kiss to her lips. Then to her forehead. One on each eyelid. The end of her nose. Her cheeks. Working his way downwards as Ishizu's breath grew shallower, catching on itself and dissolving into breathy panting.
"Ishizu…" Everything within her coiled and fell into ribbons as his sighing mouth found a soft spot on her neck. One hand propping him up as another trailed down her belly oh-so-slowly-
This is wrong.
Seto tensed suddenly, his eyes snapping open. Wide with fear. His mouth trembling, then hardening into a thin line.
Ishizu almost whimpered when his lips left her throat. She felt that tenseness rip through his body, making his back arch like that of a cat. Polluting his body with cold. Turning all softness and errant tenderness into ice.
What's happened…?
Seto quickly and methodically lifted his arm under Ishizu's legs and swung them around, allowing himself to leave the comfort of the couch, Ishizu watching him with increasing amounts of need and bafflement, as he began to walk around his office at a fast clip, searching for his clothing. Tugging on his undershirt rapidly, his eyes watering from how quickly he'd pulled it over his head. Snatching his boxers from where they'd been shucked somewhere by his desk and sliding them on. Remaking himself. Taking back control. What he'd so clearly lost earlier that day-
-and shamefully so.
The way he'd felt, though-
-the way she'd made him feel-
Her mouth-
-her hands on his body-
He'd felt transported. Like crying. Perhaps he had cried during the moment-feeling happy-sated-gloriously alive-
I am truly a monster-
-I ought to have said no-
-I mean, given our relative positions, it was completely despicable of me to engage with her in that way-
He found his trousers and pulled them up almost violently, the sleek material nonetheless scratching his legs, then approached the desk once more, where Ishizu had left his belt somewhere along the ground.
Right when she'd-
He clenched his hands into painful fists, digging his nails into his palms as he searched for his button-down, then decided it was pointless when a quick sweep of the room didn't turn it up.
Stupid. Idiotic of me. Utterly wrong.
"Seto-"
Ishizu adjusted herself on the couch, crossing her legs at the ankle, and looked up at him questioningly. Her brow furrowed, eyes round and wide with worry.
What is going on with him-
-did I do something-
-no. No. I played it to the letter-
"M-Miss Ishtar…" Seto began, coming to stand before where she sat, hands still in fists, the pain hardly registering as he looked down at her, his eyes hard, his chest hollow.
Ishizu tried for a smile. "Now, now, Seto-you can call me 'Ishizu' on a more regular basis now-don't you think?"
I mean, considering…
Despite herself, she blushed again at a lingering memory of a certain thing Seto had done with his tongue only an hour or so earlier-
"Miss Ishtar." Seto's voice was wobbly. Thick. Wound all through with immense amounts of hurt. Already tasting loss like a bitterness in his mouth.
Goodbye-
"Given the fact that our relationship has changed-and, of course, the very nature of this change-you are, of course, free to return home. If you like, Roland can be ready to take you back to your apartment in ten minutes-once you've gathered what things you came with, of course-"
Ishizu's mouth fell open, her eyes blazing. I can go home?
His voice coming out in spurts. Breathless. Cheeks reddening with a mixture of misery and embarrassment as further memories of the previous few hours gripped hold of him.
"Consider my quarrel with your family over and resolved. I have made you suffer enough here. You can go home, Miss Ishtar." His throat closing up, the last of her name coming out as a croak.
-I can go home-
A genuine tear began to form in the corner of her eye; she nearly laughing giddily as it rolled down her cheek, her hands covering her mouth as if to suppress a shout of joy.
I can go home I can go home I can go home-
Seto watched her display of joy-the light that beamed upon her from without and within, and felt nothing.
Emptiness was not a feeling, per se. Loss was not a feeling.
And Seto Kaiba did not feel sadness. Grief.
Those things foreign to a titan of industry. A leader. A champion. A multi-billionaire several times over.
He didn't dare to think of other words-those more softer and pinker in texture and tone-as he continued to watch Ishizu weep with happiness. Her captivity ended. Her time served.
Part of him wondered if she'd done that with him-seemingly enjoying all of it-in some desperate hope that her efforts would bring the results she wanted-so clearly. Dearly. Evidently.
Ishizu wiped the last of the tears from her eyes, her dampened cheeks, her collarbone as she regarded Seto.
I'm free. Gods, I'm-
I'm free-
I never have to touch or be near this bastard ever again-
Upon that thought, something cracked within her. A sour taste inexplicably filling her mouth. She looked back at Seto, who had turned his back to her, the muscles visible through his undershirt as he leaned on his desk, presumably waiting, silently, for her to find her clothes, scattered as they were around the floor of his study, dress herself, and leave.
Walk out of his life. Run out of his life. Freely. Happily. Never looking back.
What she'd wanted all along. Sick of being cooped up like a pet canary in a magnificent golden cage. Fed the finest foods. Clothed in the finest dresses. Given a playmate and a house of servants to do her bidding. Entertained and been entertained at high-society events most people could only dream of attending. All on his arm. Holding close to her for the sake of her near-survival that which she wanted nothing more than to push away. The man she'd wanted nothing more than to kill in his sleep. End his life. Make him pay the ultimate price for threatening her fractured family, as broken and chipped away as it was.
That was all she'd wanted.
Until she'd wanted more-
More-
Like when she'd first felt the stirrings. At their first dinner. After. On the patio. When she'd tried and been rebuffed.
Each night as he'd slept beside her. His wicked touch torturing her in the guise of dreams. Seeping into her mind's eye. Every crevice until it became a painful, inconvenient reality.
Her wanting him.
The knowing of how she'd made him want her in the same was-teasingly, flirtatiously, innocently, wittily, every trick in the book-only adding to the high.
Sparks had burst under her skin when she'd first kissed him. Let him hold her. Touch her. As if it were all he'd ever needed. Wanted. To feel whole. As if merely being with her in that way could be his salvation.
And the way they'd-
It had been like nothing else.
The feel of him still on her skin when she wasn't thinking about it. A certain look he'd given her-thoroughly arrogant and unselfish at the same time-over and over when he'd kissed her. Where she'd needed to be kissed. Touched. Dying by his hands.
All in service of the ultimate goal. To have her revenge. To protect what little she had to protect.
That must have been why she felt slightly wrong standing up like that and hunting down her clothes. Her stomach tied up in knots. Because she hadn't killed him-
The only reason why.
She didn't dare to think of anything else that was tingeing her moment of utter glee with something like gray.
There's nothing else.
There can't be anything else-
Can there?
She retrieved her dress from under a couch cushion and slid it over her.
Yugi's expression from earlier-how he'd looked at her when she'd told him why she'd done all of that-the flirting with Seto. Stripping for him before the cameras. Begging him nightly to sleep in her bed until it because a ritual of sorts. Until she couldn't fathom falling asleep without his delicate half-snores drifting in and out of her ears. Eating breakfast with him. Making him squirm with each move she made while she ate.
A most amusing game, all.
Kissing him-
Letting him kiss her like that-
-holding nothing back-
-that part hadn't felt like a game.
Not anymore.
Shiveringly and strangely real.
And even when-
-when she'd had him on the desk like that-
-and more-
And somehow Yugi had known what she couldn't bring herself to articulate.
Why the thought of leaving now-like this-
-left her feeling hollow.
Disturbed.
She found her panties underneath the edge of his desk, balled up and nearly hidden. Wondered idly how that had managed to happen…
I shouldn't feel this way.
I should be happier about being able to go home.
Why did the thought of never seeing him again make her feel sick to her bones?
And-
The thought of killing him-
All those Seto Kaibas-
-every one of them-
That light in his eyes-
She swallowed it down. All of it. Closed her eyes for a moment.
Felt something break further.
Something blooming in her chest.
A lack of bitterness. Warm. Cool. All these things.
Something like a weight lifting off her back.
Forgiveness-
That wasn't quite the right word for it.
Why she hadn't managed to do it all those other times. Kill him. The agony she'd felt when she'd clutched the pillow between her hands. Poised over him. Ready. Willing.
Unable.
Each and every night he'd slept in her bed. So fragile. On that thread between life and death without even knowing it-
And she'd never managed to push him over. Topple him.
Why?
She didn't dare think of it.
She almost felt like floating.
She wanted to cry again.
As Seto looked at her one last time, his eyes dulled, she knew he had thought of it.
Already.
In his own, idiosyncratic way, perhaps-
But it was eating him alive.
She'd worked it perfectly. Every move played exactly right. She'd made him want her. Desire her.
Miserable at the thought of not having her-
She'd worked it too well.
Something like a butterfly-a pack of them-in her chest, her stomach as she looked at him once more.
Heart like a stone. Crushing every butterfly with finality. Blood pulsing through her veins, everything roaring to life within her.
Yes.
As Seto watched her cautiously, his eyes wary, she walked over to him cautiously. Hair streaming over her shoulders. Like a perfect vision of what was leaving him. She couldn't have been real. His subconscious teasing him. She must have left already-
And then her hands moved to his cheeks, her hips pressing up against his, and she kissed him. Freely. She shivering in his arms as his hands moved automatically to her waist. Holding her there against him. Like he was afraid she would try to leave. Disrupt this lie. This vision he was entertaining. Holding onto like it would slip through his fingers.
He groaned as he broke the kiss. "Miss Ishtar-what the hell are you doing?" His eyes hard but bright, his hands leaving her and falling to his sides. Tensely. Perfectly controlled.
Ishizu felt a lump in her throat dissipate as she looked up at him, softly letting go of his cheeks. Searching the planes of his face for something like acceptance. Want. That same thing inside her veins that charged through. A reflection of it in his expression.
"I-I don't want to leave, Seto Kaiba." A crooked smile lit up her features. Dazzlingly bright. Eyes shining with something like honesty. What he'd so rarely seen in her face-something that seemed to be wholly and truly Ishizu. Gentle. Intelligent. A little strange. Slightly twisted.
All of these things he couldn't bear to let walk out of the room. Not then.
Seto stepped back and placed a hand on his forehead, releasing an almost piteous groan. "There is a term for this, you know. It's called Stockholm Syndrome."
And it's clear she has something like it-to want to stay, even after I told her she could leave-
-the sex can't have been that amazing-to break the laws of logic-
Ishizu laughed then, a crystalline bell-like peal. "Seto-I mean, I wouldn't be so quick to diagnose-after all, I'm the one who-well-got us into this precarious position in the first place. And-well-I'm fairly certain that, you know, certain emotions have to be involved for it to actually be Stockholm Syndrome."
Seto quirked his mouth slightly, despite himself. "And you would say there aren't certain emotions involved in your ridiculous decision to stay here, Miss Ishtar?"
Ishizu returned his smirk wholeheartedly. "Well, I do have to keep some cards to the vest, Seto Kaiba-maybe I just really enjoyed having sex with you-" She stepped in closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, watching as the last vestiges of fear were whittled away.
He bent down and brushed his lips against her ear. "So-Miss Ishtar-does this mean we're, like, a thing now?" His voice was wry. Sardonic. Mocking ever-so-gently.
Ishizu giggled. "My goodness, Seto Kaiba-I guess you'll have to find out."
She rose onto tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Then to his cheek. Then to his ear. "Get on the couch, Seto-and I think calling me Ishizu would now be appropriate."