Yami cautiously sniffed the suit that was hanging on the 'dirty' rack labeled 'SETO' in the outgoing laundry room.
He caught a dull whiff of stale coffee and nothing else.
Leaning back in relief, he decided to ask Seto about it later and tried to push it from his mind.
He had a massage at 6. Then physical therapy two days from now, then another therapy session to look forward to. His days were stacked.
It was odd that both Isono and Seto were out of the house, but past experience told him it was because Seto needed Isono's assistance midday. Not because they were colluding without him…
I'll take a nap, Yami thought happily to himself as he walked up the steps and saw Mokuba coming down from the top, carrying a laptop under his arm and one in a backpack.
"Where are you going?" Yami asked calmly, and the kid called over his shoulder, "Friend's house. Gaming party. See you tomorrow, cuz I'm sleeping over! Tell Seto I said 'hi'."
"Very well," Yami nodded and slowly walked into his own room, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the finery around him, taking in the screen mounted on the accent wall, the trees planted intentionally in the ground by the window, and the glass balcony.
Everything was…peaceful.
He didn't think he'd achieve this or would die attempting to achieve it.
Laying his head down on the pillow, Yami stared silently up at the chandelier and closed his eyes, drifting off easily because his body was sore, and he was exhausted.
Time to heal.
Yami was lounging contentedly on the couch bed with a magazine when Seto stormed into the room and tossed his tie down at his desk, thumped his briefcase violently on his desk chair and then stalked into the bathroom to slam the sliding glass door so hard, Yami winced.
Bad day? Yami thought as he set the magazine aside to join the CEO in the shower.
He knocked on the dividing door and called out over the echo of running water, "coming in…!" And he pushed it aside to see Seto palming soap down his toned body in furious motions, his face dark with distress and his jaw clenched so hard, Yami could see a vein forming in Seto's pale neck.
"Hey… Should I come in?" Yami asked, already lifting the hem of his shirt to undress, but Seto turned to shut the water off with a wave of his hand, shaking his head silently and stepped out to snatch a towel up off the stand, walking over to the sink to furiously brush his teeth.
Cracking a window open to let out the steam, Yami sat by the lounge beside the view, propping one foot up on the bathtub edge while he watched Seto's reflection in the shiny handles of the silver faucets.
"Want to talk about it?" Yami tried again, and Seto palmed a towel over his face and let out a muffled groan into the fabric, shaking his head again.
"Okay." Yami turned to face the window, mildly disappointed. He knew Seto didn't want to burden him with talk about work, but he didn't mind. He had nothing going on in his days other than the grueling therapy schedule and marked days on the calendar to watch a show that aired weekly.
He got up to exit the bathroom, sitting back down in the couch bed to stretch his legs out on the large patch of sun streaming in from the window, listening to Seto bustling around in the walk-in closet, getting dressed.
A phone buzzed, so Yami perked up curiously, about to answer it when Seto rushed out shirtless to snatch it out of his blazer that was hanging on the coat hook by the door, pressing it to his face to snarl, "what. This better be good news."
There was silence, and Yami continued to watch with interest. The CEO marched over to his desk to inch his laptop out of his briefcase, almost dropping it onto his desk with one hand, so Yami ran over to help, getting a rough elbow in the chest that made his breath catch. H-HEY!
Seto pulled up the email and kept edging Yami aside while he sat down and kept his phone to his ear, listening while he typed a reply at the same time at the direction of his lawyer.
Yami tilted his head, reading it over Seto's shoulder
It was legal-speak. For an eviction notice.
Intrigued, Yami headed back to the couch to do some of his own investigating.
All he had to do was search 'Kaiba Seto…' and lawsuit was the first suggestion.
The second search completion was 'eviction lawsuit'.
There was only one news article available, that was only a few words, and Yami had a sneaking suspicion that was due to Seto's PR doing news coverage suppression, so he headed over to Seto's social media to see what people were really saying, unfiltered.
The topic had trended a few days ago, so the mentions were numerous.
Yami frowned and read the topmost tweets that had the most attention.
"Trash billionaires like Kaiba Seto evicting old ppl from their homes to build his new tech campus is peak tone deafness. LEAVE THAT PART OF DOMINO ALONE. 'Safely relocating' = evicting them when they were perfectly happy there in the first place! Go back to playing children's card games you degenerate."
Yami winced and read the next one.
"Love how Kaiba Seto took it upon himself to gentrify the domino city – heartland city border. Literally this guy has a hero complex, and a villain complex. Leave the old people alone. They don't wanna move, and no amount of money you're paying them will make them leave."
Old people eh? Yami tilted his head and almost tapped away to search more when he read the next one.
"GUYS. Stop spreading misinformation. Its old PERSON, singular. The rest of the decrepit block is fucking vacant, and this guy owns a little shop on the 1st floor. The building was falling apart. Kaiba did everyone a favor and bought the land so (the city) could stop ppl from squatting there / doing drugs/ setting fires etc. Be mad at the OLD PERSON for refusing to leave! He's preventing progress!"
[DominoCityPolice_Official] – thank you [user: kanamei] that building was a hazard, and we owe Mr. Kaiba a great thanks. As for the civilian refusing to move out, we will continue to politely reason with him. We protect all our citizens regardless of who they are and will make sure no innocent bystander is harmed in this transition. Thank you for your understanding.
Messy, Yami let out a breath and realized this was why Seto had been acting tense for the past week.
Because this was happening.
And the public's opinion was heavily divided.
Scrolling down, Yami saw another tweet rooting for the building to be torn down.
The one after that was screaming about how Kaiba Seto had no conscience or soul.
The one after that was sticking up for Seto, saying he was doing the right thing.
The next one had an image, and Yami froze when he thought he saw a familiar face.
"[image] this is the old person Kaiba is trying to evict. He looks like a grumpy wrinkled prune sack who isn't even a Japanese citizen. THIS is the shop he 'runs' but hours indicate he only opens two days a week. [link/http] its basically a bunch of imported trASh that no one needs. He needs to GO so we can feel safe walking down 10th again, okay? Don't send this guy hate, but he's really the problem."
Hey now, discrimination, Yami wrinkled his brow and tapped on the photo of the dark-skinned old man with a full head of gray hair crammed into a bandanna that looked like it needed a wash.
He had a full beard, severe under-eye wrinkles that were more like bruised scars, and large eyes that were dark, round pits with a thousand-yard stare.
He recognized that look… And that wild mess of hair?
The bandanna with the worn insignia on it?
Yami blinked, his heart leaping into his throat.
If he wasn't mistaken…
This man looked like…
"Hey." A warm hand landed on his shoulder and Yami jumped in fear.
"Sorry," Seto raised his hands defensively, feeling a rush of guilt as Yami let out a tight sigh and gave him a weak smile.
"You're fine. I was lost in thought," Yami said as he clicked his phone off and pressed it to his chest, willing his heart to stop thundering. "I was on twitter, reading about your lawsuit."
Seto pulled a sour face and sat down beside Yami on the couch, letting out a tired sigh.
"Don't read that garbage," Seto said darkly. "What do you want to know?"
"Fill me in," Yami said carefully as he turned to rest his hand against Seto's knee, giving it a loving squeeze. "I hear an old man is giving you hell."
Seto scowled handsomely, "yeah, some deluded old nutsack who's set in his ways. I had Anzu pull his file. He's a refugee…from some war, and he pulled a knife on the two immigration officers who arrived to check on him. He really belongs in a home, but no one can talk to him."
Yami blinked, his heart steadily growing tighter.
"I'll talk to him," Yami said slowly.
Seto let out a barking laugh, and Yami narrowed his eyes.
"Sure. And then he slips into a PTSD episode and stabs you!" Seto cried, running a hand through his hair with a defeated head shake. "No. Leave it to my lawyers. I'll do it by force if I have to. He's a demented old man, and that building is crumbling—where are you going?"
Yami stayed silent and moved into the closet to change, wondering if the old man would still remember him. He had to, right? The profile photo he'd seen showed the sharp eyes. That wasn't the expression of a 'demented old man'.
Those were the soulless eyes of a killer.
Throwing on a black tank and slipping on his two belts, Yami slid them in place over his hips and shrugged a blue blazer on, sweeping his hand over the glass display in the center and pulling out a silver chain, dropping it over his head and feeling the metal sit comfortably around his neck.
Seto appeared in the doorway of the closet, looking anxious as Yami moved around, picking a silver watch and slipping it on unceremoniously, almost as if…he was dressing up to go out. And he was acting robotic again. His face was impassive while a tiny frown sat in the middle of his delicate brow, and the clinking of buckles echoed in the air.
"Where are you going and can I come?" Seto asked cautiously, suddenly on high alert at Yami's mood change. "Are you upset about something?"
"Unsure," Yami replied, searching his own feelings for a telltale sign of anger, or happiness…two of his root feelings he used to identify if he was hot or cold. Currently, it was neither. Damn it.
"Unsure if I can come or unsure if you're upset at…me?" Seto followed Yami like a hawk while Yami walked out the door and paused to consider his question.
"I need you to take me to the old man's building, and no, I'm not upset at you, or anyone…yet," Yami said quietly, heading down the steps and calling out so loudly, his voice echoed in the spacious house, "Alpha guard B! Get me a gun—the smallest one! Meet me in the car."
Seto paused at the top of the steps and felt his heart drop to his feet, making his stomach churn with an odd heat. N-NO!
"Yami… You don't have to do anything!" Seto cried as he raced down the steps, almost tripping out the front doors as he followed Yami into the limo and threw himself into the seat, breathless with anxiety as he watched Yami accept the small pistol from the guard and tuck it in his belt.
"I have it handled. You don't have to threaten him. That's what my lawyers are for," Seto insisted, grabbing Yami by the arm and trying to pull him out of the car, but Yami only leaned forward to close the limo door and addressed the driver.
"Go. Seto has the address."
"No I don't," Seto replied stubbornly.
"Yes, you do," Yami's eyes flashed dangerously as they narrowed prettily. "Now. Don't make me threaten you."
Seto blinked and replied weakly, "…Kame Game shop… on 10th… Are you okay? Are you mad at me? Are you—"
"Who else knows about his refusal to move?" Yami talked over Seto with a grim tone. "You said Anzu pulled his file. Nothing in there raised any red flags?"
"Yeah, red flag one: he's old as fuck," Seto rolled his eyes. "Red flag two, he's a war veteran from another country. Red flag three, he got violent on peaceful officers! Red flag four, he barely speaks Japanese. Should I continue? ...Red flag five, there were no red flags in Anzu's file!"
Yami blinked and kept his gaze out the window while he replied steadily, "because I erased it for him, making sure he could stay anywhere he wanted as a refugee. Safely. Without being disturbed. Seems he followed me to Japan. I should've known."
Seto's breath left his chest in a tight whoosh! W-WHAT?!
"And why would this guy be following you?" Seto asked with an edge in this voice. "Do you also happen to be married with four kids I should know about?! We've been together for 4 years now, Yami! You can't keep doing this to me!"
"I'm not doing anything," Yami replied flatly.
"You're dropping a bunch of new shit in my lap, that's what," Seto snarled, hating how he was on the verge of starting a fight. "I'm starting to thinkI should've read your file!"
"There's nothing in there that would matter to you," Yami answered emptily. "Now you sound angry."
"Because I am!" Seto growled as he leaned back into his seat and took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Holy fuck… Yami really lit a fire under his ass sometimes!
Yami's gaze stayed nailed to the window as the car stopped at several lights and then finally pulled up to the curb of a crumbling old building.
"Too close. Move down," Yami commanded, and the driver obediently inched the car away from the door of the old building.
Seto grit his teeth and heard an odd ringing in his ears he associated with rage.
This was more of Yami's secrets.
"Okay. This is good," Yami nodded stiffly and turned to give Seto his best, most apologetic smile. "Please come and meet my grandfather."
Seto blinked. What.
"He was my mentor in our darkest times, and he can kill a man with a mere look," Yami said seriously, drawing his gun and keeping it in his lap with a shaking hand, and that scared Seto more than anything. Yami's hands never shook!
"You're scared of him," Seto breathed incredulously, his heart humming in his ears with fear. "We're so FUCKED!"
"Don't…shout," Yami pressed a finger to his ear, breaking out into a cold sweat. "But if this goes well, we— I …can put him in a home where he needs to receive care. You're right about the episodes. We might have the same ones."
And with that, Yami stepped out of the car and kept the gun at his side while he knocked loudly on the door that was flaking paint, calling out in Japanese first, "…Grandpa? It's me…"
Seto climbed out of the car and felt the bodyguard hovering beside him protectively.
Holy crap. Yami's mentor.
This meant…the old man could've killed him on numerous occasions but didn't.
Spared. Again. Somehow.
The door opened a tiny crack, and a gruff voice answered in accented Japanese, "who's there?"
"Solomon… It's me," Yami held his hands up defensively but kept the gun in his left hand, pointed up at the sky. "Found you. Can you let me in? And I brought my friends who have been giving you trouble."
The old man narrowed his eyes, staring at spikes in the young man's hair, taking in his full appearance—dark skin, angular eyes with the sharpness in them, the clean, semi-formal wear— and his mind churned.
Atem.
"Atem?" Solomon whispered hoarsely, pulling the door back a bit more. "My boy…?"
"Yep!" Yami smiled widely and slowly moved his arms apart to mimic the motion for a hug. "Missed me? Let me in. I'm in the street with a visible weapon."
The door swung back all the way, and Seto couldn't hide his amazement. Wow.
The old man hadn't stuck a knife out through the crack.
Yami was doing better than all the other officers and lawyers.
Stepping inside the dingy shop, Yami noted all the untouched board games on the shelves, the rugs hanging from the walls, and the small souvenirs protected in the glass case by the register, so he moved through the clutter to take a peek, catching a whiff of incense that made his heart clench with nostalgia. Oh… It felt like he'd stepped…into a home. His home.
The old man pulled up a rickety wooden chair and nodded at the two newcomers.
"Door close," the old man commanded, so the bodyguard dutifully shut it with a scraping creak.
The bell jingled and a cold silence fell over the room as Yami moved amongst the items with ease, making sure to peek over the counter and seeing a familiar, large trunk that undoubtedly held a long-range gun. It was covered with a strategic rug and a sitting cushion.
Deciding to stay behind the old man, Yami hovered by the jewelry in the glass case, eyeing the gems with a slow smile.
"These are from…that room we robbed," Yami said with a gleeful smirk, recognizing a signet cigar ring. "The corrupt asshole, right?"
The old man nodded with a grunt, and eyed Seto Kaiba with his bodyguard.
What was happening here? Atem was here to convince him to move?
"He hired you to take care of me," Solomon guessed as he crossed his burly arms across his chest and eyed the bodyguard. "He paid you. How much to kill your own Grandpa?"
"No. Why would you think that? I love you," Yami said calmly, reaching under the glass case to pluck a tiny ruby ring from the cushion. "Can I have this?"
The old man narrowed his eyes and ignored the question, staying fixated on Seto Kaiba.
"You hired him," he said in Japanese, the accent disappearing eerily fast. "Are you aware you hired someone who I consider my family to exterminate me? Your money will not sway my boy. He's pure of heart. You will die." Then he turned to Atem to scold him in Arabic, "kill him now."
Yami admired the ring on his index finger, thinking it was too loose, so he moved it over to his middle finger. It was too small. He moved it over another finger, and it fit perfectly on his forefinger. Cute.
"Atem. Are you deaf? I said, raise your weapon and kill this man," the old man barked, and Seto's hair raised on the back of his neck. He was watching…something terrifying.
Yami was blatantly disobeying an order or something.
Even his bodyguard stepped back fearfully to avoid the shouting.
"Grandpa, if you keep yelling, you'll raise your blood pressure," Yami said as he sat on the edge of the glass case and swung his legs in a carefree manner, his heels thumping on it, rattling it rhythmically. "Did you come live in Japan for me? I'm touched. How long have you been here?"
The old man eyed him beadily and answered in Japanese just to make sure everyone in the room could understand him, "since I heard they were sending the Joker Pair here to kill this man…" Solomon turned back to hiss at Seto Kaiba. "Who you failed to hit. What, did he pay you more? Since when did you listen to the dying pigs when they squeal? Are you taking jobs from him exclusively now? Gotten lazy, have you?"
"No, grandpa," Yami replied quietly, staring at his knees with his hands tucked under his thighs, and Seto was horrified by this reaction.
Why wasn't Yami behaving brashly, angrily, or boldly?
It was like his balls had been cut off the second the old man started yelling!
"Then why is he still alive, making the target on your own back larger, and larger?!" The old man was turning red in the face from all the yelling. "You risk your life every day this man lives. Kill him. Now. I came here to see what the hell you were doing, and evidently—nothing!"
It was Seto's turn to feel a rush of shame. Jeez. This old man sure knew how to spew bullshit that made his stomach twist.
"Grandpa, you're the best," Yami said with a pained smile. "You want to know what I've been doing? I've been soul searching and working on myself. Healing my nightmares."
He hopped off the glass case and approached Solomon slowly and knelt right beside the chair, reaching his hand down to place it atop an old, wrinkled one, giving the fingers a squeeze, his heart wrenching as he gazed into the old man's face, "and it makes me happy to see you're doing well," he added, seeing Solomon blink and nod steadily at him.
"Good boy," the old man said gruffly, turning away to glare at Seto Kaiba. "Let's watch him bleed together."
Yami tilted his head with a smile for the old man and stood slowly, giving Seto a real pang of fear.
No way.
No fucking way, right?!
He didn't just drive Yami back to his grandfather so he could…be murdered in this dusty hole?!
"I learned so many new things about myself," Yami continued, still talking to Solomon. "Like different ways to express love, and look, I got married!" He stepped behind the old man to rest his outstretched arm on his shoulder, showing off the hexagonal ruby ring on his forefinger. "It was a fast engagement. Do you want to come to our official wedding?"
The old man's eye twitched and he patted Atem's forearm, making a motion to shove his arm away, "yes, very good. You got married. I should meet her after this—"
"Yeah, except, I know you will absolutely hate them," Yami lamented dramatically, leaning down to drape his other arm around the back Solomon's shoulders in a half hug, hanging off the old man with a playful swing of his heels as he circled the chair once, "…because you're racist and sexist."
Seto tensed, watching this performance with a mixture of awe and dread.
Solomon turned red in the face and twisted his head around to glare at Atem, "what nonsense are you spewing? You think I won't like her because she's made you lazy? Or, that she's from this country which is why you've moved here and kept…this scum, alive?"
Seto winced. Ouch, hey.
Worst, Meet-The-Parents ever?!
Yami's eyes narrowed and he moved fast, throwing the old man into a chokehold while he pressed the barrel of the gun into the old man's bearded cheek, earning a pained gurgle while the old man's eyes bulged, but he didn't fight back. Instead, his hands stayed clenched over his knees in tight fists while he hissed with what little air he had, "…have you…lost…your…mind?!"
"No, Grandpa," Yami said calmly, moving the gun away to show off the ring on the back of his hand again on the forefinger. "Look…very closely…." And he turned his hand in a way that made the light from the window catch off the gem and reflect small specks onto Seto's dark blazer. "Who do you think…I'm married to?"
The old man vibrated with contained rage while his face turned even redder, and Yami gave him a rough shake, tightening his elbow around the old man's neck while he pressed the gun to the back of Solomon's skull and gave the safety a teasing click, "I learned so many things about myself, including the fact that…I hate guns. But look, I'm touching one for you now."
Seto stood rooted to the spot, fascinated.
This Yami was sadistic and new.
"So I'm thanking you, since you made a loving sacrifice for me, moving here to be closer to me," Yami continued, pressing the barrel tighter against Solomon's head. "Seto's men will come pack up our stuff—yeah, I see you kept some of my clothes too. And to thank him for that, you'll move into a nice, big building with his name on it. Where I can be near you. Okay, Grandpa?"
The old man let out a few laborious wheezes, and Seto almost had a heart attack himself, thinking the old fart was going to pass out, but he saw the old man nod.
"And then, we're going to have coffee, and play chess in the park, as usual," Yami continued, still keeping the gun pressed to the old man's head. "You will accept him. I know you hate men who love other men, but too bad. I didn't turn out the way you hoped. I like other men. Accept it."
Solomon blinked once and didn't nod.
"Accept it," Yami hissed in Arabic, giving the old man another violent shake so much that the chair tilted on its back legs with a scrape. "If you kill him, I won't hesitate to kill you, and then myself. All your life, all that time you spent training me, wasted. I'll die. This man is the reason I'm happy. If you care about me at all, you won't hurt him. Got it?"
Solomon let out a strangled hiss, and nodded.
"Too bad, I don't believe you, Grandpa. Goodbye," Yami said coldly, and he felt the old man fight back at last, reaching his arms up to pry him off, but Yami kept the chokehold tight, and fired off a warning shot into the ceiling above, making Seto flinch, but feeling the old man stop struggling in his grip, going back to wheezing heavily while his burly arms were clawing at the sleeve of Yami's stiff blazer.
"…Y-You're my good boy," the old man panted, giving Yami's arm around his neck a pat and then another pat. "I'll love…whoever…you love."
"Aw, you always know what to say, Grandpa," Yami gushed with false bravado, pushing the old man forward on his chair and releasing him at last.
Solomon bent forward and gasped for air, huffing and panting as he patted his chest, growling.
Atem's warm hands came clamping down on the sides of his face, turning his head to the side, giving him a hot jolt of fear when he thought his neck was about to be snapped, but instead, he received a kiss on the cheek that made his stomach churn with an odd, fluttery feeling.
It was dread, fear, anger, fear, with a hint of affection.
Atem had grown up enough to bite back.
Letting one pig live because his boy wanted to keep it as a pet was fine.
"See? I love you," Yami said calmly with zero emotion, still keeping the gun raised beside his cheek, letting the sun from the window glint threateningly off of it. "I would never do anything to hurt you, just like how you'd never do anything to hurt me, or anyone I love. Take a shower. You reek."
He stood and kept the gun aimed at the old man. "Now."
Seto watched in deep awe as the old man slowly got up out of the chair and moved towards the connecting door leading into the house, and Yami growled something in another language at the old man until he marched dutifully all the way in and closed the door with a snap!
Yami grit his teeth and lowered the gun, turning to the bodyguard and hissing, "help me move this trunk out from behind the counter. Seto, get in the car and call the retirement home agents."
Seto didn't wait another second before turning on his heel and sprinting back to the car, filled with a rush of fear and adrenaline. That was the oddest interaction between two family members he'd ever seen.
The old man got kissed on the cheek and then was asked to take a shower at gunpoint.
Maybe the old man couldn't do anything unless it was at gunpoint.
Yami was hefting a coffin-shaped trunk into the car, and Seto let out a startled protest, "whoa whoa, we are not a hearse! Get that cursed shit out of here!"
"This is a long-ranged gun he smuggled in using a child's casket," Yami replied stiffly, and Seto's voice died in his throat. Okay. Yeah. Sure.
Nothing surprised him anymore.
Yami disappeared back into the shop and returned with a dusty duffel bag, two rugs hefted over his shoulder, and another obvious gun case. Wow. Uh…
"I'm disarming him," Yami said calmly, and he walked back into the shop.
He returned a few minutes later with the bodyguard, carrying a convenience store plastic bag that was bulging with the contents of a bomb vest, and the remnants of a radio. HOLY SHIT?!
Yami shoved all the weapons along the floor of the limo and jogged back inside, seeing his grandpa step into the shop with damp hair and towel around his neck, glancing around at the empty spots, his eyes widening.
Atem took his entire arsenal…!
"You promised not to kill him and I want to trust you," Yami said with a stern nod. "More men will come to help pack and then professionals will move you into a new home. I'll come visit when I put your stuff in a safe, storage unit. I'll even give you a key and a map. Say yes, Grandpa."
The old man nodded silently and received a beaming smile.
"Do you love me?" Yami prompted brattily, and the old man swatted him away with a wave of his hand.
"I'm not leaving until I hear you say it," Yami said slyly, wondering if he needed to pull out the gun again, seeing the old man's ears flush dark red with embarrassment. "The doctor I'm seeing says it's healthy to express it. So say it."
"…Love you too…m'boy," the old man mumbled, walking back into the house to slam the connecting door with a loud bang!
Letting out a satisfied huff, Yami exited the store and got into the car, aware that Seto was bursting with questions.
"We're not related by blood," Yami explained as the car rolled forward down the street. "I helped sneak him onto a boat by lying and saying he was my grandfather. He taught me how to hold a gun in return. I stole food for us, and he taught me how to hold a bigger gun. So on and so forth."
"And so forth?! What did you have to do to get him to teach you how to shoot a long-ranged gun?" Seto asked curiously, seeing Yami shrug and reply, "I trained a camel to bite tourists."
"You…what?!" Seto let out a weak laugh. Yeah, nothing surprised him anymore! This fucking did.
"For money, obviously," Yami explained, as if that justified it. "It was a scam we ran for extra cash. 'Free' camel rides, and if you didn't pay up at the end, the camel would bite you."
Seto let out another weak laugh, his admiration for Yami rising.
"Eventually, we learned that if you point the guns at a special, specific person, the money comes raining in," Yami said with a dark shrug. "And then we never went hungry again. The end. Happily ever after."
"Mmm, yeah, pigs, right?" Seto said with a callous nod, and Yami's jaw clenched.
"Don't use that word in front of me ever again. New boundary."
"…Sorry," Seto muttered, and he turned to face the window to avoid the rush of his own embarrassment.
There was a tense silence as the car pulled up the private drive and waited at the tall gates to slide back slowly, and Yami finally spoke up.
"Now he won't be an issue. I will add visiting him into my schedule, and perhaps get him a doctor too," Yami said quietly. The car parked at the edge of the fountain, and he stared at the streams of gushing water, making no move to get out.
"Do you think less of me?" Yami snuck a glance at Seto and noticed he was staring at the piles of weapons at the end of the limousine. "Seto?"
Seto raised his gaze to meet Yami's dark, angular eyes and shook his head.
"No. You were pretty badass. As usual," the CEO grinned, flashing white teeth. "Wish I could handle my old man like that. Everything at gunpoint. That would've saved me a lot of trouble. I should've thought of it too, dammit."
He pushed the door open and stepped out with a cheerful smile, eager to call his lawyer.
This incident only solidified that Yami was the best thing to ever happen to him.
Author's note:
Grandpa is also a hitman hehehe