Author Notes: Even though Seto's the protagonist of this story, this chapter doesn't have much of him. Sorry. :( Now, is everybody ready for the first appearance of the Millennium Items? ;) Ohmehgerd, plot is happening!
"My little cupcake, you're already exhausted, and we've barely gotten started," the cougar crooned as she pet Seto, making the brunette suppress a shudder. The occasional lonely cougars were actually the least repulsive category of customers for him, but they were still fairly repulsive just the same. "You'll need something to keep you going." She pressed the edge of her wineglass to his lips, and though his first instinct was to resist, he had neither the energy nor the ability to resist.
This wasn't the first time a customer had forced alcohol on him, but each time he hated himself for not trying to fight it. Granted, he wasn't allowed to resist them, and he was able to fake drinking more than he actually did, but it repulsed him that his father's favorite addiction was so unavoidable in his life. His greatest concern was that, one day, whatever they forced him to drink would also be laced with drugs and that he'd just disappear, leaving Mokuba behind without a trace of where his older brother had gone. He couldn't afford to lose himself, but he also couldn't afford to lose a client, so as the older woman kissed him hungrily, he returned it, squashing down the voice of his soul that hated every bit of it.
Seto had just enough energy at half past eleven to scoop the spare change from his pocket and use it at a payphone to call Ryou and ask if Mokuba could stay the night. He'd said that it was an unusually busy night at the club and they wouldn't be letting him off until well after midnight. After being assured that it was no problem at all and establishing that he'd be by around noon tomorrow to pick up Mokuba, he hung up and sagged against the clear plastic wall of the adjacent bus stop.
He had to keep going, still a couple of blocks to his next client. He couldn't rest yet, he told himself as he slowly sat on the bench. He needed to stay awake, he thought as his eyes closed for what felt like only a moment. His eyes snapped open and he checked his watch: a half hour had passed in the instant he'd closed his eyes.
"Shit," Seto muttered as he jumped to his feet and swayed for a moment, then shook his head to clear his vision. "Shit, shit, shit." He broke into a light jog as he hurried to the next client. This was precisely the one person who was most intolerant of tardiness: a fierce, leather-clad dominatrix who genuinely terrified Seto. There was no way he would get out of this without new injuries, and that was the last thing he needed right now. And then he had to see that banker; he was always rough too... How much longer could he hide the abuse he allowed his body to endure? How much longer could he get away with it?
"Dad, what does it mean when you see someone flinch?" Joey asked his doctor father Saturday morning. It was rare for Dr. Wheeler to be home at a time when his son was awake and home as well. Being one of the best cardiac surgeons in the country meant that he could be called out for an emergency surgery at any time.
"Flinching is a reflex induced by the sensation or anticipation of pain," his father said automatically without looking up from his newspaper, speaking like some kind of clinical textbook. "People who have been physically abused, either domestically or as children, tend to flinch at sudden movements, especially movements near their head or face." He turned the page to the continuation of the article he was currently reading, displaying no curiosity as to why his son should be asking such a question.
"Cool, thanks," Joey mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked out of the kitchen and went down to the basement. He was used to his parents being distant and detached; he preferred it that way, because it meant that they left him alone, except for the times he got in trouble or they just got mad at him. They could frown and scold and discipline him as much as they wanted, but he'd never listen. They only things that had ever motivated Joey to action were his own capricious interests and impulses. As he plugged his electric guitar into his amp and turned the volume up, he grinned to himself and started to play. It annoyed the crap out of his parents, but he liked the way the rock music could drown out everything, even his own thoughts.
Seto slept until almost eleven Saturday morning, waking up and feeling almost rested for the first time all week. Usually he wouldn't let himself sleep quite that late, but after last night, he'd really needed it. The first thing he did was to swallow a dose of painkillers, then lay in bed for just a little while longer, waiting for them to kick in. When he stood at last, he found that he wasn't in quite as bad a shape as he'd thought he'd be in. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd been this bad, which meant that he'd been worse off than this before. And if he'd been worse off previous times, that meant that he could survive this, and he took comfort in that fact.
He showered quickly, then grabbed an apple from the kitchen on his way out. He had to pick up Mokuba before he could get started on his homework. Since Mokuba had spent the night at Ryou's house, he didn't feel comfortable asking Ryou to watch him again that night. He could call Anzu, ask her to watch Mokuba for the evening, but if she wasn't available, he wasn't sure what he would do with him. He never felt safe leaving Mokuba home alone with their father, not because their father had hurt Mokuba before, but because he was afraid that he would. After all, he always got angry when he was drunk, and when he got angry, he always got violent. Seto had always taken measures to prevent his father's alcohol-induced violence from doing any physical harm to Mokuba, but there was no telling what kind of mental or emotional damage could happen in Seto's absence. If Anzu couldn't watch Mokuba, then Seto would just have to cancel on all of his clients for the day. Mokuba always came first, and he had enough to pay his "employer" his full quota for the week. The money he would have earned tonight would have gone into his own wallet for their household expenses. Maybe...
As Seto approached Ryou's house, he decided that it would be best to spend more time with Mokuba that day. He couldn't blow off the regular customers without serious repercussions, so he'd still have to call Anzu about watching Mokuba for a few hours, but it would be significantly less time spent away from him than otherwise, and that was what mattered most.
Sunday night, after Amane had been put to bed and his mother had left for work, Ryou was Skyping with his father, practicing his Arabic with the seasoned archaeologist.
"You've gotten better," his father praised, beaming at his son's achievement before his face grew serious. "It's a good thing, too, because soon we might have a house-guest who only speaks Arabic."
"What do you mean?" Ryou asked, looking confused as he settled his laptop more comfortably on his lap.
"Remember that new potential dig site I told you about last week?"
"Yeah, you said that it looked like it might have been raided by tomb-robbers, but that it still looked promising."
"I was wrong. It wasn't raided. It's been lived in for the past three thousand years."
"What?!" Ryou almost knocked over his laptop as he sat up in alarm. "But nobody's living there any more, right?"
"Well, not now that we've gotten them out." His father sighed, looking drained as he recalled the whole ordeal. "They speak some modern Egyptian Arabic, enough to communicate with us as necessary, but they mostly speak ancient Hieratic Egyptian. They read the ancient scrolls effortlessly, and it's absolutely incredible! They'll be able to give us incredible insight into the earliest periods of ancient Egyptian history."
"But… But why were people living in a tomb? And who are they?" Ryou spluttered. The idea of living underground in the darkness, hidden away from the sky and the fresh air and everything else, made Ryou's chest constrict with fear.
"We found a family: a father with his three children. The youngest is named Marik and he's about your age. There were clear signs that their father had been abusing him, so we called in the local authorities to apprehend him and lock him up until we could get all of the facts. To be honest, though, things aren't looking good for him and I don't feel that bad about it. His daughter Ishizu seems to be the leader of the three, even though her other brother Rishid is older than her. She explained to me that her family has been guarding the secrets of the pharaoh's tomb ever since the pharaoh's interment."
"Which pharaoh?"
"She won't say. We're still trying to make them feel more comfortable with us so that we can help them reconstruct their lives and introduce them to modern technology. Apparently, they were forbidden from leaving the tomb ever. What they ate or how they survived like that is beyond me. Rishid is about twenty-five and Ishizu is about twenty, so they're old enough that they're handling things fairly well, but Marik's a bit of a mess. He's sick, but we can't get him the help he needs here in Egypt. I'm trying to convince Ishizu that we ought to send him back to Japan so that he can get the help he needs, but it doesn't look like that'll be happening anytime soon. If he does end up going to Japan, I'd want him staying with us, and it'll be helpful for him if he can communicate with someone his age." Ryou was still rather stunned at everything he'd heard.
"Yeah, sure, I'll keep practicing. I feel bad for him." Ryou frowned. "He must have hated living underground. I know I would."
"Yes, it's rather unfortunate. Well, enough about my week, how have you been?" Ryou's father asked with a smile as he forced the Ishtar family out of his mind for now. "How's Amane and your mom? How's Mokuba doing?" Ryou had long ago told his father about the arrangement he had with Seto concerning Mokuba, and more recently he'd vocalized his concerns for Seto himself.
"They're doing well." Ryou grinned broadly, unable to help himself. "It's really cute watching Mokuba and Amane together. I actually caught them holding hands when we were walking home after school on Friday."
"Tell me, Ryou, how is it that your eleven-year-old sister has a more successful love-life than you do?" his father teased, making the teen blush. It always flustered him when his father made comments like that.
"I've told you, Dad, all the girls at Domino High are just so… so… shallow!" Ryou sighed dramatically. "I mean, Anzu's not as bad as the others, but she's hung up on Yugi, even though neither of them will admit it. When I find a nice girl who actually uses her brain to think about more than fashion and gossip, then I'll date." His father just chuckled at that.
"I'm afraid I've given you high standards for women by marrying your mom," he said with a smile that Ryou reciprocated.
"Yeah, Mom's pretty great. When I find a girl as great as Mom, then I'll date."
"Anything else exciting happen this week?" That was when Ryou remembered gym class on Friday and he explained to his father what-all had happened with Seto and Joey and the coach.
"No coach should be treating his students like that," Mr. Bakura said with a frown. "That method of punishment isn't appropriate in any high school."
"I agree, but Dad, you should have seen Seto and Joey going at it!" Ryou enthused, still amazed at their audacity. "It was incredible the way they kept goading him, and it was weird that they were working together, because usually they can't stand to be around each other!"
"A common enemy tends to unite people," Mr. Bakura explained. "Why did Seto stand up to the coach?"
"Because he was picking on me and he hates bullies," Ryou answered, looking thoughtful.
"And why do you think Joey stood up to the coach?"
"Because… he enjoys undermining authority figures at every given opportunity," Ryou answered after a few moments, thinking hard about what he'd seen of Joey's behavior towards other teachers.
"Well, there you go: a common enemy that they both enjoyed humiliating for their own reasons. How's your diorama coming along?"
"It's almost done, I just have to finish the castle, and then it'll be complete enough to use! I'm trying to have it done by the time you come home so we can play the first game with it." There was a moment of happy silence between the two of them that was interrupted by Ryou's yawn.
"Time for you to go to bed, kiddo. Don't want to be late for school tomorrow!"
"Okay, bye Dad!"
"Goodnight, Ryou! I love you!"
"Love you too, Dad."
As Ryou put his laptop away, he realized that he'd forgotten to ask his dad for advice about how he should talk to Seto. He'd hoped that his father might have a better insight into what might be going on in the troubled teen's life. Hopefully, it could wait until next week. He turned out the lights and climbed into bed, removing the necklace his father had sent him from Egypt about a month ago. His father had called it the Millennium Ring, although Ryou didn't know why it was called that. It wasn't the kind of ring one would wear on their finger and it was certainly older than one millennium. He couldn't explain why, but he never liked to be separated from it. For whatever reason, he was greatly attracted to the gold artifact, so he always wore it under his uniform at school, removing it only when he was in gym class and when he slept. He laid it on his nightstand before closing his eyes to sleep.
Seto put a plate of food in front of his father. Sunday was his day off, so he'd made dinner himself, and since his father was actually home for once in the evening, he figured there was no reason not to give him food as well. He went back to his seat at the table, blocking Mokuba's view of their father in case he used the plate of food as an ashtray again.