Yami was leading Mokuba through the house by the hand. The pair strode into the kitchen, and Mokuba watched Yami open a cabinet beside the oven, pull out a square cake pan, and set a handgun into it.

"See?" Yami smiled warmly. "Now, it's your turn. Think of a fun place we could hide something, so only you and I know about it."

"Uh…okay…my old homework drawer," Mokuba rolled his eyes, losing interest. "This isn't a fun game."

"Staying safe is never a fun game," Yami replied darkly, giving the dome of the security camera another furtive look. "How about you watch some TV now while I do this then? I'll put a knife in your homework drawer while I go check on your brother."

"Kay," Mokuba said halfheartedly, shrugging. "Will you come watch it with me?"

"I'm busy right now, trying to keep us safe," Yami replied firmly, giving Mokuba's back a pat. "Want to exchange the code word of the day before you go?"

What?! Kaiba wondered, gripping the edge of his desk so hard, his fingertips burned.

"Lame," Mokuba mumbled, already walking away. "That's my code word of the day. Lame!"

"Good, I will remember that," Yami said lightly, giving the child a wave, waiting for him to disappear down the hall before his expression darkened again.

He had been preparing for this moment ever since he'd decided to wholeheartedly fall in love with Kaiba.

He would keep the child safe, and the entire household safe.

Now, back to the weapons.

Yami rushed around the house in a frenzy, hiding each one in an accessible place, and Kaiba palmed his head painfully, feeling a headache coming on.

Yami wasn't…planning on killing him.

If anything, he was adding to the defenses. He'd even thoughtfully included Mokuba's safety with a 'code word of the day', whatever the fuck that was.

Sitting back on his heels after hiding the last gun in his own bathroom, Yami patted his face, trying to stop himself from nervously sweating.

This wasn't good for his heart. He had been living a fluffy dream for the past two years, jet-setting with Kaiba to whatever country he currently was holding conference in, and then lounging in luxury during the entire time.

His dream was in jeopardy.

Time to brief the mansion's security in his own way.

Kaiba rose to his feet and shakily got dressed, unable to bring himself to dry his hair.

This was unreal.

Yami was an assassin.

He was acting like one right now.

Leaning against the closet doors for support, Kaiba pressed a hand to his eyes, willing himself not to cry. No. He would not…cry….

"Master Kaiba?"

Isono's voice echoed through the room as he stuck his head in, and he rushed to the master's side, helping him to his feet.

"Feeling dizzy? Or ill?" Isono asked, helping Kaiba into the nearby couch, and seeing the young man slump over, looking dejected.

"He was sent to kill me," Kaiba said dully, gazing up at the high ceiling and wishing it would fall down and crush him. "Yami is a murderer."

"Ah, you shouldn't say things like that too lightly," Isono said quietly, sitting down informally beside the master and nodding. He curled his fingertips over his knees feeling a rush of guilt.

He knew this already.

Yami had confronted him about this two years ago when he arrived with his suitcase on the front step when Kaiba moved him into the mansion. Their conversation had been brief but fulfilling.

"Are you loyal?" Yami had asked him coldly, giving him an appraising up and down look. "Would you die for him? The master of the house?"

"Yes," Isono answered stiffly, wondering why the sudden intensity from a stranger he'd only met a couple months ago. He knew Master Kaiba was fond of this man, but he was…off-putting somehow.

"Good, then you should not hesitate to kill me on the spot when the day comes," Yami had said without batting an eye. "My employers want him dead. I am disobeying them. Stay alert. Never let your guard down."

And Isono had nodded gravely in return, remembering the sorrowful look Yami had given him after bowing. He had kept his guard up around the stranger, even after Mokuba and Seto had let theirs down, never forgetting their first exchange.

"You don't believe me," Kaiba said dryly, noting the expressionless look on his manservant's face. "I know it's hard to imagine but try considering it. This has been going on for two years!"

"Well, you're alive now, aren't you?" Isono nodded stiffly, wondering if he should disclose the details of his first encounter with Yami to the master. "If he wanted to kill you, wouldn't you be dead?"

"That's exactly what I told the authorities," Kaiba sniffed, composing himself and crossing his arms across his chest. "But he's hiding guns around the house as we speak."

"He is?!" Isono leapt to his feet and raced to the door, his heart pounding furiously. "Stay in here, Master Kaiba!"

The door slammed, and Kaiba sighed irritably. Great. His peace had been shattered. Better follow to see what was happening in his own damn home.

Yami had just finished briefing the perimeter guards, instructing them to bury guns in several potted plants before he saw Isono striding towards him across the property, looking angry.

"Dismissed," Yami said stiffly, and the security around him dispersed quietly.

Isono glared and eyed the gun on his belt wearily, asking, "is that day near? Do I need to prepare anything for you before I send you off?"

"Don't count on it," Yami shot back with equal hostility, mildly pleased to see Isono remaining sharp. "I'm leaving the property to alert the Yakuza in our area. Keep your phone on."

"Wh-What?" Isono gasped, paling at this news. "You're in contact with the local Yakuza?"

"Yes, the ones here and in the next prefecture over," Yami replied icily, eyeing the windows on the top floor, thinking he'd seen a curtain fall away. "I'm going to pack a bag and come back in three days. I'll tell the master."

Speechless, Isono watched Yami march back into the house, and he followed, shaking his head.

Kaiba shut the window and leaned against the wall beside it, his mind spinning.

Why…was this nightmare happening?!

What had he done to lose his gentle and caring Yami?

And apparently Yami wasn't even his real name?!

"Seto?!" Yami cried, bursting into the room and seeing Kaiba sagging against the wall, cradling his head. "What's happened? Are you hurt?"

Gritting his teeth, Kaiba said nothing.

Yes, he was fucking hurt.

Yami was breaking his heart…right now.

"Is it a headache? Come to the bed," Yami said warmly, grabbing Kaiba by the arm and pulling him strongly to his feet. "Come."

The CEO half-stumbled across the room, nearly tripping over his own feet as he sat gingerly down on the edge of the bed, seeing Yami's tanned hand resting reassuringly on his knee. The gun was very visible on his belt, and the safety was on.

"Why do you have that?" Kaiba asked dully, pointing a shaking finger at the gun on Yami's belt, and the gentle smile he received as an answer made his heart clench.

"Because I need it for where I'm going for the next few days," Yami answered carefully, looking for changes in Kaiba's expression. "Stay away from windows for now, okay?"

"Why?" Kaiba repeated, and Yami gave his hand a tight squeeze.

"Because it's not safe," Yami said firmly, his voice shaking with emotion. "Promise me you'll stay home from work this week. I'll find the people who are after you and do my job properly this time."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kaiba hissed, gradually losing his patience. "There's no one after me."

"The men who originally hired me are still after you," Yami said stiffly, his stomach churning with fear. "They might send someone else because I didn't do what they asked. Understand?"

"No," Kaiba said flatly, feeling as if his world was crumbling. "You're saying they hired you to…what, seduce me?"

"No!" Yami cried, reaching out to cup Kaiba's face in his hands. "They hired me to kill you! I 'disappeared'. Now I think they've sent other men to finish the job. Can you stay home for seven days?"

Kaiba blinked rapidly, his vision swimming strangely with confusion, and he nodded.

But the photo shown to him by the authorities was one of Yami.

"Now, show me the video feeds from this afternoon when the authorities visited you," Yami breathed, and Kaiba nodded slowly, sliding out his phone to hand it to Yami.

He watched his partner's expression turn ugly as he played the footage back , his fingertips white over the edge of his screen.

"Those are not…the authorities," Yami breathed, realizing he was in more trouble than he'd originally thought. "Fuck."

The pair was dubbed 'The Joker Pair' by people in his line of work. They were insane and unpredictable… and they had Kaiba alone in a room for an extended period of time!

"Did you eat or drink anything?" Yami asked wildly, willing himself to stay composed, because Kaiba could sense his fear. "Did they touch you?"

"No. Not even a handshake," Kaiba answered truthfully, now wondering if he ought to be concerned. "Why? Who are they?"

"Don't know their names," Yami muttered, pressing Kaiba's phone back into his hand. "We should be afraid. They're known for using explosives and poison."

Kaiba blinked, feeling as if he was floating far…far away.

Yami was still talking, "I will check all the vents at your office and in your home. Stay here, understand? Keep Mokuba close."

He stood up and felt Kaiba grab his wrist with a clammy hand, his blue eyes wide with panic.

"Where are you going?" He asked, dreading the answer, but he had to hear Yami say it.

"To work," Yami said lightly, mustering a handsome smile. "To eliminate them before they get to us. I will come back after three days."

"Don't…" Kaiba breathed, losing his voice when he faltered.

Don't what?

Don't get caught?

Don't kill them?

Or don't die?

All of the above.

"I won't," Yami smiled reassuringly, reading his mind eerily.

He caressed Kaiba's cheek with the back of his hand, his heart swooping with emotion. "I am effective. Keep a bottle of wine chilled for when I return, won't you?"

Shaking his head silently, Kaiba hung onto Yami's arm, unprepared for the sweet kiss that landed on his lips, and his chest tightened with a strange mixture of happiness and anxiety.

"I'm not helpless, you know," Kaiba fumed. Yami nodded and gave his cheeks another soft pat.

"Neither am I," Yami replied firmly, regaining his composure. "You need to stay here with Mokuba and your manservant. I've briefed them both. Stay alive, you understand?"

"Don't say shit like that," Kaiba growled, and Yami laughed his wonderful, deep laugh that made his heart clench.

"Wait for me," Yami said, holding Kaiba's gaze steady, and he saw the CEO nod stiffly, once.

Sliding his arms off from Kaiba's shoulders, Yami turned and hurried out of the room, unable to throw a look over his shoulder for fear he'd feel another terrifying emotion: regret.

He would fight to see another day. Right now, he needed to defend his new family with every ounce of his strength.

Kaiba sat blankly on the bed for a moment longer before a terrible realization hit him.

If the so-called 'Joker Pair' were in a room with him to warn him about Yami, then the person they were really after was Yami.

Yami had disobeyed orders.

Yami was now on the hit list too.

I sit in a shiny tower. They know where to find me, but they're looking for him first! We're both goners, Kaiba raged as he pulled out his phone to let Yami know, but the dial tone rang in his ear followed by the robotic voice telling him the person he was trying to reach was out of rage.

Fuck.

Yami had already ditched his phone.

Oh shit.

Yami climbed out of the cab and immediately stood in the shade of a building as he scanned the street for any traffic cameras that might've caught him for a few seconds.

Trying to slip back into his old skin was uncomfortable…and hard.

He ducked into a convenience store to grab a pack of black facemasks and paid with exact change, tearing open the plastic and looping the straps over his ears while pinching the band across his nose with a practiced motion. This was one of the main reasons why he'd wanted to stay in Japan after deciding that Seto Kaiba would be his last assignment.

Everyone here wore masks regularly and no one questioned it. All he had to do was say he had a pollen allergy or that he felt a bit under the weather. He'd traveled around wearing the face mask while boarding planes with Seto through various countries, avoiding facial detection this way as a 'Japanese billionaire's guest'. It had been the perfect veil… and it still was.

He'd cling onto it with everything he had left.

If the Joker Pair had come into contact with Kaiba and had let him go, it meant their target was…something else.

His money? No… They know I'm with him, Yami mused darkly as he leaned against the wall and gazed up at the blue sky, willing his eyes to stay dry. He would have to avoid Seto for his own protection. It was back to assuming the enemy knew everything about his position and his situation could change in a blink of an eye, except his situation this time held two people he loved dearly.

Maybe retirement wasn't possible for someone like himself, but Yami swore that he'd try anyway. The two years of peaceful happiness he'd known with Seto Kaiba was worth returning to. All he had to do was take care of his affairs. Properly this time.

He grit his teeth and set off down the sidewalk, his feet taking him into a pachinko parlor he'd first frequented when landing in Japan, and he secretly prayed that his contact here wouldn't turn him away. The noise of the music blaring above combined with the loud whirring of the game machines set him on edge, hating how the first thought that flitted through his mind was that the sound of bullets could easily be hidden over the din.

Walking to the attendant behind the nearest front desk, he pinched the mask closer down on his nose self-consciously before shouting to be heard, "…does Honda still work here?"

The woman pulled out one of her earplugs and gave him a wide-eyed look.

She hadn't heard him.

"HONDA!" Yami shouted, holding his palm up and writing the character on his palm. "HIROTO! BROWN HAIR…" and he made a spiking motion above his own head. "STYLED!"

The woman nodded knowingly and put the earplug back into her ear, sitting down and pointing at the back of the room at the employee entrance. Ah. Good.

Yami gave her a curt nod and hurried towards the dark blue door, eager for relief from the chaotic noise. He shouldered it open and eased it shut behind him, seeing two men smoking at the table, both freezing when they saw him.

"Hey." Yami said heatedly, flipping the mask down under his chin and seeing his contact, Honda, leap to his feet and back away fearfully while his co-worker chewed the end of his cigarette, also distressed.

"No. No, man, no. You said you were out. Why are you here?" Honda asked frantically, flattening himself against the wall while the color drained from his face. "I don't have anything for you. No message, no money, no nothing."

His co-worker stepped into Yami's face and cracked his knuckles threateningly, glaring down at the smaller man under his nose, asking Honda over his shoulder, "should I throw him out? We're a…peaceful establishment."

Honda shook his head furiously, pointing a shaking finger accusingly at Yami, "You're bad news anytime you show up. Get away from him, senpai. He's killed more people than all the breaths you've ever taken in your life."

The man in front of Yami backed away so fast, he tripped over a chair, and it went clattering to the side as he stumbled into the wall and stayed there, his cigarette ash falling dangerously onto his shirt as it trembled in his mouth.

"Well, I am…out," Yami said calmly, unfazed by the hostile reception. "I come asking questions for once. And perhaps bearing a warning."

"No… Goddammit…" Honda slid into a sitting position on the floor, hanging his head while his cigarette dangled from two fingers.

"The Joker Pair. Have you heard of them?" Yami continued conversationally, and the other man's face turned whiter than the wall he was leaning against. "I take it by that reaction, you have. Well, they paid our favorite CEO a visit but left him unharmed. If they know we've ever been in contact… Don't let them hurt you. Call me if they come to you."

The two men stared blankly at him, their eyes wide with terror.

"For your safety, I'll leave you with my contact information," Yami said silkily, picking up a stray piece of paper on the table and writing down the number he'd saved in a satellite phone he had stashed in his storage unit. "I'm willingly giving it this time, Honda, I suggest you take it. Some say I'm like the grim reaper because the people I contact first usually end up dead, so please don't die in the coming weeks."

"Exactly," Honda muttered, stabbing his cigarette into the ground with a heavy air of resignation. "If they kill me, I'm coming back to haunt you."

"You have a way to reach me," Yami said warmly, patting the piece of paper on the table. "Now. Put in a request with your boss to the bike gangs on the outskirts of the city. Have them be on the lookout on the streets surrounding the Kaiba Tower. A ride-by every hour wouldn't hurt. I'll pay."

"Not the issue," Honda muttered again, but he nodded. "Okay, anything else, Grim Reaper?"

"Please don't call me that. I have a name," Yami replied coldly, his demeanor changing in an instant as he narrowed his eyes. "I'm requesting gang presence near Mokuba's private school streets too."

Honda hung his head and nodded bleakly.

"You'll all be paid handsomely," Yami said with a stiff smile as he turned to go, and he heard Honda hiss under his breath.

"Yeah, if we live to see pay day."

"So don't die," Yami replied cheerfully, pointing at the door leading out back. "Now I'm going through here. See you later, Honda."

He stepped around the breakroom table to push the door open and felt Honda jump to his feet and race after him, "W-Wait! I'm sticking to you like glue until I get to my boss's safehouse," the brown-haired man said under his breath, giving his superior a casual wave over his shoulder, adding, "Senpai, tell Asuka-san this is more important. See you guys tomorrow."

The man nodded, the cigarette still hanging limply from his mouth as the door slammed, and Yami kept his shoulder to the wall as they walked through the narrow alley, with Honda tagging close behind him like an unwanted shadow.

Sticking to me will be a liability, Yami thought mildly as he stopped at the mouth of the alleyway and caught a whiff of something that smelled like vaguely like peanuts that made his heart clench with terror, so he grabbed Honda's arm, dragging him down the sidewalk to lean against a set of vending machines.

"OW! Ow dude!" Honda jerked his arm out of Yami's grasp and glared. "What's your deal—"

The sound of glass shattering echoed in the distance, and Yami pressed himself further against the drink machine, flipping the mask back over his nose as he grabbed Honda's arm again and pulled him down the street, jaywalking into light traffic and causing a few horns to honk while a deafening pop! made his eardrums tight.

Honda twisted his head around in shock when he saw smoke coming from the doors of the pachinko parlor, with a few patrons running out onto the street and then falling over onto their hands and knees, coughing violently while they gasped for air.

H-Holy SHIT?!

"You're a fucking danger to society! You're a terrorist!" Honda ranted fearfully as they backed against another store's alleyway to watch the commotion building across the street.

"Yes, because anywhere I go, chaos follows," Yami agreed darkly, instinctively glancing up on the rooftops above, thinking this was another reason he decided to stay in Japan. To get on the roof of an establishment, one needed to be an employee with a key, a cop, or they had to be air-dropped there stealthily without attracting attention, and most roofs had anti-suicide barriers and fences that made long-range weapons easy to spot from afar.

The yakuza safehouse for Honda's survival was looking to be a good option.

"Let's go," Yami growled, and he felt Honda resist stubbornly.

"Nah man. You're coming with me to the safehouse to make a case for yourself. I'm not speaking for you," Honda breathed, unable to look Yami in the eye even though the man was shorter than him. "My bike is parked three blocks from here. We'll ride there."

He turned to hurry down the street, feeling Yami follow him methodically and ask, "are you a bike mechanic? Do you know your bike well?"

"Of course I fucking do," Honda scoffed, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette to calm his nerves. "That's why I'm single. I know my bike better than I know girls."

Yami blinked and nodded, waving the cigarette smoke away from his masked face as they turned the corner and reached the small parking lot where a row of shiny bikes was lined up against the far wall.

"Good, then you can check all the mechanics before getting on—" Yami began, and Honda let out an ungraceful yelp as he dashed towards his bike to check if it had been tampered with.

Shaking his head with a sigh, Yami followed quietly, hearing sirens blaring through the alleyways, undoubtedly heading for the parlor. That would make the news tonight. It was a classic Joker Pair tactic to gas people out of a building right before blowing it up. It would be marked as a terrorist incident that would make global news, alerting the underground community they were on the hunt…for an unlucky someone.

Then maybe they're leaving the country to look for me, Yami thought anxiously as he watched Honda lay flat on the ground while inspecting his motorcycle with wide, fearful eyes. If they were flying out, he'd have to make sure all the Kaiba campuses were safe first before going on the offensive.

"She's fine. Rina's fine," Honda said, more to himself than to anyone else before handing Yami a spare helmet. "Not being pulled over today. Put it on."

Not being recognized today, Yami thought cheerfully, slipping it on over his head and catching a whiff of airy, floral perfume… and he immediately took it off, kneeling steadily to set it gingerly on the ground like it was dangerous.

Honda caught onto this, and his eyes widened fearfully. He leapt over Yami's crouched form on the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs, "FUCK!"

Yami dove away from the helmet, feeling his shoulder hit the ground as he rolled underneath the nearest parked car and locked his arms around the back of his neck, his chin scraping the pavement painfully as he squeezed his elbows over his ears, just in time to feel the blast shake the ground and make his head ache.

Shit. Shit Shit Shit.

This meant all the yakuza contacts he had here in Japan were burned.

The stale stench of burning rubber and gasoline filled the air as a metal pipe fell sadly to the ground beside the bike with a muffled clang!

The yakuza would be able to take care of themselves. If he contacted them further for help, he'd be putting innocent gangsters like Honda at risk…just like how all the other parked cars and bikes had suffered collateral damage from the explosion—the metaphor in the message was clear.

Damn those two and their love of explosives and poison.

He'd get them back for this…when the time was right.

"MY BABY!" Honda wailed, clutching the wall as tears streamed down his face, his styled hair disheveled from the way he kept shoving a hand through it. "MY BABY RINA! I JUST BOUGHT HER A NEW EXHAUST WITH ALL MY LIFE SAVINGS!"

"Shut up! I'll pay it!" Yami shouted hoarsely, inching out from underneath the car and dusting himself off delicately, palming his chin to make sure the scrape wasn't bleeding. It was merely sore.

"Okay. I… You… You're gonna… You're gonna bodyguard me to the fucking safehouse!" Honda cried breathlessly, grabbing Yami by the arm and pulling him down the alleyway to avoid the way people were opening their windows to look outside.

Yami shook his hand out of Honda's grasp and reached down to touch the gun he kept underneath the hem of his blazer on his belt, the action calming him down instantly, even making his heart slow to a steady, even pound as his head cleared.

"Walk beside me or behind me," Yami said instantly, hurrying to walk in front of Honda in the narrow alleyway leading out to another main road. "And put one of these on." He handed the man a face mask from the pack had earlier, still flat from behind his blazer pocket, and Honda accepted it silently with both hands, looking shell-shocked and depressed.

Author's note:

dramaaaaa :O