Yami edged the door shut with his hip, taking care not to slam it.
Shaking with repressed rage, Seto stared at the naked woman—no—the girl.
She was no older than 20, maybe?!
Holy shit, what a fucking anniversary gift.
"I heard her through the walls…saying, 'ah, ah, you're hurting me' during sex. Was that you? What the fuck is going on with you?" Seto ranted, as Yami disappeared into the bathroom and remerged with a bathrobe, which he handed to her, and she dutifully slipped it on, and also put her feet into the bath slippers.
He doesn't know! Shizuka kept her face solemn as she heard the spiky-haired man lie and attempt to appease this man who appeared to really be his lover.
"It's better if you don't know. We weren't doing anything. You know me better than that. I only like men, come on," Yami said testily, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket again. "Let's go."
"No. Who is she, and why is she coming with us? I need…answers, or it's…I'm done. We're breaking up—how could you?!" Seto cried, coming apart at the seams while Yami and the other woman remained eerily calm. What the fuck were those reactions?!
"You can watch the footage before I delete it. Right now, get her on our jet." Yami replied heartlessly and he opened the door, offering his arm to Shizuka. "A half-naked woman is the best ticket out of any situation without any ID. Come on."
Completely thrown, Seto followed them down the hallway, his stomach curling with shock when he saw a trickle of blood splatter on the heel of Yami's shoe. Holy shit. Maybe he was insane for loving this man?!
They walked past the front desk and were stopped by the two women who looked concerned.
"Excuse me, what is happening? Where are her clothes?" The woman asked with an eyebrow raise, trying to communicate with the woman who was only wearing a bathrobe, but she only had eyes for the man with spiky hair, giving him a glowing look full of…love? Relief? Fear?
"They got ruined, and we've only stopped to refuel. This man here will give you all our IDs," Yami said easily, and he turned to lead Shizuka out into the hallway, feeling Seto tense behind him and wonder why he'd been left with the torch.
Sorry, Seto. You can do it, Yami thought as he hurried across the tarmac and ignored the stares from the baggage handlers.
"Cover your face and act like you're famous," Yami directed her, wondering if they might be stopped again. "You don't have ID and there's only so much fibbing Seto Kaiba can do to get us back without getting me in trouble too."
Seto…Kaiba? Shizuka told herself to hold all the questions until the end, and covered her face with one hand, also shielding it from the bright afternoon sun. Keeping her gaze down, she watched her own feet walk up a set of pop-out stairs and then pass across plush carpeting.
"Shower the gunpowder off, and I will get you…clothes, if you can wear mine, I hope you don't mind," Yami said slowly, taking her to the back of the plane and pushing her into the luxurious bathroom. "Come out and drink more water to flush your system. Don't take longer than 15 minutes, please. Thank you."
And he shut the door to lock her in there, pulling out his phone to take the missed calls from Anzu, listening to the rings and wondering how Seto was doing.
He didn't have to wonder long, because the CEO was stalking up the steps, looking livid.
Anzu picked up and started talking at the same time Seto towered over him and started spitting, "Can you please tell me what the FUCK is wrong with you—"
"ATEM! Oh my gosh, they found him! Can you believe that? Your technique worked—"
"You bring a trafficking victim onto my plane, after fucking her so loudly, the entire hallway—"
"…Mokuba is fine. He keeps saying he wants to call you guys but neither of you are picking up—"
"Give me that!" Seto snarled as he pried the phone away from Yami's emotionless face, hanging up on the caller and sinking into another fit of despair. "Come…back! I don't like this version of you. Take off the gloves. Give me the gun!"
Seto was almost hysterical as he grabbed each of Yami's hands and tried to yank the gloves off, but Yami backed away from him so fast, his elbow hit the headrest of another nearby seat.
"You now need to wash your hands, and your whole arm," Yami said seriously, trying to calm his thundering heart loud enough to deliver good news, but his heart was steadily breaking with the way Seto was treating him. "Let's all sit down and talk about what happened."
"Yeah? Tell me now," Seto breathed, and he almost lost his balance when the plane began rumbling forward and zooming off the runway at breakneck speed, the ground dipping violently as they slowly lifted off and continued to gain altitude, making his ears suffocate and pop. "…Fuck…!"
Shizuka peeked out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around her chest, watching Yami ask the taller, brown-haired man with a shaky smile, "please get her some clothes. She's Jou's sister."
And Seto's look of shock was priceless.
"What the fuck?" Was all he could manage, and Yami slowly peeled the gloves off with a mechanical movement while he nodded.
"Jou. The idiot cop. Katsu," Seto repeated numbly, his knees weakening. "You fucked his sister. He's going to kill you. Do you have no conscience?! She looks barely 18!"
"We didn't fuck!" The girl cried from the far end of the plane and Yami cracked a smile.
"I fucked up some guys though," Yami offered helpfully, shrugging off his blazer which he knew was covered in specks of blood and gunpowder. "Five, exactly."
"How is that better?!" Seto cried, his voice almost rising to a shriek. "Do you hate me?!"
Shizuka winced and pressed a finger to her ear. Was this really Seto Kaiba? He was way less composed than his stoic phone release videos.
"I said I fucked…them up! Not…fucked them!" Yami corrected, aware that Seto's trauma was only hearing things he wanted to hear. "They're dead. There's proof in the footage, but I request you take a shower too. And please hand her some clothes as I'm covered in blood and residue."
Completely shocked, Seto could only sink into the nearest seat and try to stop himself from shaking. Maybe he was insane for loving Yami! If he counted Yami's bodies, it was more than 7 now, and it had only been 5 months into the new year.
Shizuka stepped carefully out of the bathroom in the towel, aware that no one was going to hand her clothes if she didn't get them herself.
The CEO looked like he was having a private crisis.
"Blue bag, KC emblem," Yami instructed her, and she had to stand on the edge of a seat to reach up into the storage compartment to get it. The bag was heavy, and it landed on her chest, undoing the knot on her towel, and she let out a shriek when it fell in a puddle around her ankles.
Yami grimaced and picked up his duffel bag with two fingers and unzipped it, paying her no mind while she scrambled to put her towel back on, and Seto was silently screaming into his palms.
Pulling out two sets of loungewear, Yami left them atop his bag and called over his shoulder, "I'll shower. Seto, please be nice to her."
And he shut himself in the bathroom, hoping he wouldn't hear them screaming at each other in a few minutes. Given the way Seto treated Anzu, he knew what to expect.
Author's note:
short chapter! more next week!