Yami sat on a lounge out in the sun beside a bush of sweet smelling roses while eavesdropping on the staff meeting happening in the middle of the garden.
Seto was being briefed by his security team on how to act at his next phone release.
It was going to be announced at Domino Stadium.
Turn out was expected to be around 30,000 fans, but expandable to 50 if last-minute tickets went on sale. There was going to be an augmented reality demonstration and an appearance by a musician. It was going to be a whole event.
Mokuba had been excited about it endlessly.
Shizkua had also made sure to invite every single one of her friends who were fans of Kaiba's tech, and Yami understood Anzu was attending as a civilian…with Joey.
At this rate, he was the only one not attending.
Seto had assured him it was fine and didn't find him wanting to stay home offensive.
Large crowds was not something he could manage right now at this stage in his healing.
His doctor said it would trigger some unwanted memories and impede progress.
So for the sake of progress, he would watch Seto comfortably from the TV at home.
Closing his eyes, Yami tucked his hands behind his head and let the sun warm the tops of his thighs. It was starting to burn him, so he shrunk his legs up back into the shade.
"...and in case of emergency, we will shuttle you to exit 5…"
"We will walk you through the hallway as practice, on the map here, it's this highlighted stairwell…"
Yami had to get up and walk away.
Just hearing about their routes was giving him intrusive thoughts.
Nothing bad was going to happen to Seto at this launch.
The stadium was safe. He had cased it out himself a couple years ago when first arriving in Japan.
Someone would need a team of 10 or more men to successfully execute a hit and get away with it. That someone would need to be highly motivated and at the top of their career.
Yami paused halfway up the steps of the mansion, his palm growing clammy on the banister.
Why couldn't he shake the horrible, impending feeling of doom? He hated this.
It meant he wasn't healed at all.
Sitting down right on the step, he pulled out his phone to text the therapist and instead, stared at the unnamed number at the very top of his contacts.
His outgoing messages to Solomon had gone unread. After moving into the new apartment provided to him by Kaiba's legal team, his grandfather was icing him out.
He recognized this cold-shoulder behavior from the old man.
Yami knew it would thaw after a couple months, but he really was worried about how the old man was adapting to the new home. Solomon had rejected the weekly visit from a nurse, so it was all silence.
I should just go visit him directly, Yami let out a sigh and sent one last text, writing it in Arabic in hopes of eliciting some familiarity.
"Grandpa, I'm coming over to say hello. ETA 22 minutes."
Yami read it over and sent it with a heavy heart. The earlier texts all went ignored.
"How are you settling in? Did you like the fruit basket? " Read but ignored.
"Grandpa it's been 2 weeks. How is the sun from that side of the building?" Ignored.
"Chess in the park today? I'll bring a snack?" Ignored. Two months ago.
It had been enough time to let the old man sulk, so Yami decided it was time to see him face-to-face.
He rose slowly to his feet and walked back down the steps and out into the sunshine, trying to clear his mind of the scenarios he kept imagining.
It was fine. If he needed to case the stadium again, he could go alone, on a random Tuesday night, and erase the feeds himself.
And maybe not tell his therapist about it.
Walking right out of the gated driveway, Yami continued down the paved path and out onto the main road that was deserted. His spiky-haired shadow was sharp as he glanced down, feeling the sun beat down on the back of his neck, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to feel carefree.
He couldn't.
There was a dark pit of dread in his stomach.
Gritting his teeth, Yami picked up his pace and walked faster, his heart thundering in his ears as he wondered if this was another episode. It didn't feel like it.
He just felt…helpless.
And angry that he kept picturing Seto in all sorts of bloody situations at the stadium.
His eyes were burning with unshed tears of fury as he passed the worn-down bench where they'd buried a router to scramble locations, and he sat down to call a cab.
This restless, itching, burning in his own skin feeling was horrible.
It made him want to act…and do… something , but he didn't know what.
After a few minutes of waiting, Yami saw a black car pull up and stop right by the street corner, the driver undoubtedly confused by where the location ping was coming from and only managing to pinpoint the crossing.
Good enough.
Yami got up and jogged down the road to wave his hand, and the woman inside nodded stiffly.
He eased into the backseat and paid with his phone, tapping it to the meter in the middle of the divide while giving directions to Solomon's apartment block, and then settled in to watch the scenery flash by outside his window.
The ride was short because Yami kept zoning in and out, which he realized was a dissociative episode. He only barely snapped out of it when Solomon's shiny apartment building came into view.
He climbed shakily out of the cab and couldn't thank the driver.
His body was light and his fingertips were burning with a horrible sensation as he walked in through the revolving doors of the apartment building's lobby.
He was watching himself lean over the counter to identify himself as a family member, and was given a keycard to enter the elevator.
When the silver doors closed in his face, Yami's stomach dipped when the car traveled upwards, and he knew he should've taken the stairs. Especially when he was in the middle of struggling with an episode, he knew better than to put himself in an enclosed space. At the Kaiba Tower, he always took the stairs…unless Seto was in the elevator with him, giving him something else to look at or think about.
Hissing under his breath, Yami elbowed the buttons and stepped out on the 6th floor when the elevator finally stopped. He made a beeline for the stairwell and paused when he thought he saw a marker by the door.
Unmistakable, but it was a tiny strip of pale, beige tape on the doorframe. Odd.
Was Solomon marking doors around the building for some reason?
Sliding his phone out to take a photo of it, Yami stepped into the stairwell and decided to confront the old man directly about these habits.
They were no longer living in a war-torn country. They didn't need to behave like this–!
Steadily climbing the steps, Yami also noticed thin, chalk markings on the eighth step of every set of stairs.
What… the hell was Solomon doing?!
Was this Solomon's doing?!
Shaking his head to himself, Yami walked past another chalk line on the ground as he made his way up to the 9th floor and paused to stare at it.
Okay.
If this was Solmon marking the stairs and doorways…
He trailed his gaze up the wall vertically, spying a tiny, black dot in paint, the size of a nail's head. Upon closer inspection…
Yami pulled his phone out to shine the flashlight into it, seeing the tiny hole glint with a green tint, and a shiver went down his spine.
It was a camera.
Solomon or …someone, had come and drilled holes into the wall…to add cameras.
Racing up to the next exit available, Yami looked for the tiny tape marking and scanned the doorframe, seeing another telltale hole drilled at face-height. You would miss it and think it was a tiny bug, or a mark in the paint.
But it was a camera.
Shining the flashlight into it just to make sure, the lens flashed back at him, and Yami shook his head and gave it a middle finger, snarling, "Solomon! Don't fuck around with the structure of this building!"
Crazy old man. Did he go putting these in women's bathrooms too?!
Seto would not be pleased to hear about this, since he was the owner of this building.
I managed his properties, so this is my oversight , Yami growled to himself, climbing up the last few stairs and finally reaching the 14th floor, slightly out of breath.
He stabbed the doorbell and waved at the camera above his finger.
If the old man wasn't going to let him in, he was going to pick the lock.
Raising his fist to knock, Yami's knuckles met air when the door pulled back halfway, and the old man's face poked out from the crack.
"Atem, my boy," the old man grunted, his white hair still stuffed into the old, worn bandanna with the faded insignia. "Come in."
Yami lowered his hand and wondered when it would be a good place to start asking Solomon to address him under his new name, but decided to bide his time.
Stepping into the genkan, he was offered slippers, and that surprised him.
Slowly bending down to take his shoes off, he glanced around the apartment, noting that the windows had been covered with foil and the ceiling fan had been removed, replaced with an obvious, fitted, white cap.
Yami had a sneaking suspicion that was where Solomon was hiding cash.
He was led over to the dining table that was more like a work desk.
Bunches of wires hung off the side and connected to a series of extension cords, extension outlets, and a couple of routers blinked ominously while they sat in a neat row along the edge of the table, each labeled with a sticky note.
Yami swept his gaze over the names, thinking he spotted one labeled, "mansion" in Arabic, and he bit back a smile.
Okay, Solomon did visit him. How nice.
Two thick laptops were sitting together with a couple batteries and fans stacked beside it, and Yami's skin crawled. What was the old man doing?
He could just buy a regular, bulked-up PC with his own custom-built parts…
But he knew deep down, it was because Solomon wanted to stay mobile.
"I want you to read something" Solomon grunted, sweeping his hand across the touchpad and patting the back of the dining chair. "Sit."
Yami shook his head and decided to remain standing.
"Got anything to eat? I'm hungry…and thirsty," Yami said casually, palming the thin layer of sweat coming down the back of his neck. "I missed you. Don't you want to tell me what you've been doing?"
Solomon's face darkened and he glanced pointedly to the side, letting the silence ripen briefly before he turned to walk down the hallway into his bedroom.
Intrigued, Yami followed him and saw the old man bent over a mini fridge he kept by the foot of the bed and came back with two bottles of water, and a single banana.
"There," Solomon said icily, giving Atem's slender form an up and down glare. "You lost weight."
"I lost muscle," Yami corrected him as he patted his arms casually and then folded them across his chest. "My bones are tired, Grandpa."
"What about my bones?" The old man shot back gruffly, kicking the dining room chair aside and pointing a thick finger at the flat, wooden seat. "I said, sit. You really are becoming more disobedient the longer you keep your pet alive. Now I'm helping you, boy. Sit down."
Yami grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes.
His grandfather was wearing a set of beige overalls and a light pink, long-sleeved shirt underneath, with no visible lumps in or around his legs or pockets. He was unarmed.
"I would never hurt you, my boy," Solomon muttered gruffly, the tips of his ears turning dark red. "We can fight our petty family fights after I show you this. Last chance. Sit."
Yami nodded and sank slowly into the seat, tensing when a thick arm reached over his shoulder to touch the computer in front of him, and he blinked, staring at the screen.
The web page background was black and the text was in multi-color monoscript.
It almost looked like his grandfather had been coding something, but upon closer inspection, it was a barebones text-based forum…on the dark web. The language was English, and someone with an orange username was posting the most.
"Need all geard0s to mobilize in yllow z0ne...k ib/-\ d0M2 6/20/1700…
Don't bring identifiable 9mils–IntPigs onsite"
Yami blinked again, and his blood ran cold.
The tone was familiar… and…Kaiba Dome, written in such a way that not even Seto's most sophisticated security algorithms could pick it up.
One would only find it if they knew where and how to look.
His mind churned as he quickly deciphered what the orange username was asking for.
Mobilize in yellow zone–a meeting somewhere in Asia.
Requesting geardos–high-tech tactical gear enthusiasts.
IntPigs onsite–interpol was going to be present?
"Scroll," Solomon said roughly, sitting down into the chair beside Atem with a loud thunk! "Your pet is in danger. I was wondering when you would come to me for help. Go on. Keep reading or have you seen it already?"
Yami shook his head and scrolled with numb fingertips, his heart pounding painfully in his throat.
The orange username was joined by a pink name, a green name and a dark purple name.
"...Am n tive. Can mee u anywher3. Will fly."
"Rumor has it that t3m is permaplanted in yellow zn. Warning."
"Can confirm. Have seen [tem] with my own eyes, in public, unarmed."
Yami clutched his knee with his other hand and scrolled, trying not to feel another pang of something resembling fear sitting low in his stomach.
"Mist is not for 4t3m, surplus him if ready, if not, pass. He's a self-licking meat eater now."
Yami felt another painful pang sear across his chest.
Self-licking meat eater, huh?
And... Mist? They wanted to kill… Seto Kaiba?!
The next blocks of text made his eyes water for real.
"Don't speak jap can sm1 terp for me onsite?"
"Can do. We have 1 n tive onboard."
"Attending. Coded to self-d in 22h after posting. Comm thru darq or blaq phones only. Group add?"
"Sounds fun. Cap on."
"Misting k ba 5eto haha…finally. Did tem fail or die haha?"
"Jokerpair rumint tagged by him. Whereabouts unknown. Erased. Their last targets were tem and k 1$$ba. Backed IPdatabase to find the int. Pair is dead, confirmed."
"Tem is alive. N tive. Can confirm. Close to target. Surplus him."
And the orange user posted the assignment in a way Yami was the most familiar with, having seen it many, many, many times before.
"IF ATTENDING: confirm your arrival via pw : -deleted-: to group add [+deleted]
D4RK DEVICES ONLY.
FULL G3ARDOS ONLY.
+5yrs exp req!
no exceptions!
no amateur shit.
T3m is kinetic beware.
REWARD: 200/000 U$D PER ATTENDING HEAD. Yes. Show up, get paid.
Success? +24/000/000
HOST: Me.
Identified as: Oscar Leader (ex-rare hunter 2009-2014)
CONDITIONS:
-deleted-
H1T DETAILS:
-deleted-
SOLID DATES:
-deleted-"
Yami felt faint.
He leaned back into his seat and received a knowing look from his grandfather.
"Still want to keep your pet now?" The old man asked evilly, rolling his eyes. "You let him live and these are the consequences. Even your wrongdoings have come to light. Hit the JokerPair and everyone will hear about it."
Yami swallowed thinly and stared at the tiny word 'deleted ' on the screen.
"They're scared of me," Yami said with a hollow tone, feeling empty inside. " Tem is kinetic . They know I'm close to the target. I'm a 'surplus' kill to them now."
His grandfather nodded and propped his head up on one hand, giving him an amused headshake.
"Oscar Leader, now that's one of Marik's men," the old man continued, patting his beard down his face with a thoughtful air. "You put Marik away, and someone rose up to take his place. Oscar Leader… Now why does that sound familiar…."
"Probably his brother, Odion," Yami muttered, a dark feeling rising in his chest. "I knew I shouldn't have let him live."
He sagged forward in the chair, his eyes burning with the horrid familiarity of tears.
Did he deserve this?
Seto sure as hell didn't.
Was he doomed to have his past come back to haunt him like this?
He was trying to heal and move forward, but that was proving difficult when his happiness kept being threatened.
He heard his grandfather let out a derisive huff beside him at the sight of tears, and Yami grit his teeth, almost shouting, "fine! You want to laugh at how weak I've become, I don't care! I said I love him and I'm not killing him in his sleep to save everyone the trouble. I know what you're going to say. Shut it."
"You don't know what I'm going to say, boy, and I didn't teach you to be this thin-skinned," Solomon rested a hand on Yami's shoulder and gave him a firm squeeze with his bear-like hands. "So you read a few bad words about yourself on the internet and start crying? That is not productive."
Yami took a deep breath and held it.
Y-Yes. Fine. Sure.
"Choose a side and stick to it," Solomon grunted, reaching for the water bottle to crack it open and take a swig. "Don't cry like a helpless bird who just fell from it's nest. Your nest is here, is it not? The fight is coming to you and your pet on your new homeland. What will you do? ...Cry?"
Yami blinked slowly and let his breath out slowly, his ears humming with a strange sound.
"I can't do anything to stop them now. They deleted it all," Yami whispered, hating how the touchpad of the computer was dotted with his tears. "...I was too comfortable…"
"Hm," Solomon leaned back into his chair with his burly arms crossed. "What do you like about that man? His money?"
"No!" Yami exclaimed furiously, giving his grandfather a glare. "He's patient and sweet. He suffered the same traumas and is understanding of mine. He's raising his little brother up to be an excellent human being. He knows the world is terrible and uses his money to make games that bring joy…to children. If you talked to him and gave him a chance, you would know."
Solomon narrowed his eyes and huffed, "oh I know all about his hero complex. He offered me a job, which I refused."
"I didn't know this!" Yami cried, feeling another pang of affection for Seto. "When? And why didn't you take it? Is that why you've been ignoring me? To avoid him?!"
Solomon grunted and looked away again, the tips of his ears red, "he's an annoying human, that one."
Frustrated, Yami curled his fingers over his knees. This was more evidence of Seto's silent kindness. He'd tried to give grandpa a job…
His grandfather stood up slowly and turned to pull out a book from the shelf beside the TV and thunked it down on the table, giving him a crooked smile through his mustache.
"Present, for you, my boy, since I know you missed me."
Yami eyed the book suspiciously.
"Bombs are illegal in this country. No thank you," Yami said calmly, and Solomon let out a barking laugh.
"I'm not that stupid," the old man scowled. "Open it."
"Will it explode?" Yami asked delicately, and Solomon hissed at him and pushed the book closer.
"Open. It."
Yami sighed and gingerly lifted the cover, seeing pages stick together, and the book opened in half to reveal a compartment cut out inside. Oh. This was…crude…
Inside the cut-out were two, low-tech phones, and Yami's heat leapt.
He snatched one up and powered it on, seeing a string of English text messages between "OSCAR" and "MTRock".
OSCAR: id/pw
MTRock: top8
OSCAR: accepted. Exp?
MTRock: 12+ years. Worry about yourself
OSCAR: your device?
MTRock: dumb, dark, scrambled. Again, worry about yourself
OSCAR: good. Wait for details from
[+048-7090-9298-93580]
Shaking with adrenaline, Yami picked up the other phone from the book's insert and powered it on, seeing the same number pop up, followed by other users in the same text thread in many languages.
"Meet time?" in French.
"Full gear at meet?" in Japanese.
"Need 20 hr to reset from jetlag " in English.
"Arrived. Meet time?" in Hebrew.
These were all sent…yesterday.
Yami's heart jumped into his throat and he glanced up to give his grandfather a grateful smile.
Solomon wagged a finger at him and pointed at the phone, "keep reading."
Yami lowered his head obediently and scrolled.
"This is Oscar. Summary of our group currently: 22 operatives. Veteran with 12+ years exp, and baby with cusp 5 years exp. I will ID the vet as 'Leadership' [MTRock]"
Yami blinked, his body growing numb.
"MTRock here. Not interested in being leader. Too old for that shit."
"Hahaha how old is too old?"
"Never too old, old guy."
"What you pking, old man?"
"Leader gains +30.000 day of. Sure you don't want it, MTR? - O"
"UPDATE: gear inspect/ meet up 35.28643n /139.839376e /2:00. See you there dont be late - O"
And that was the last message in the phone.
Numb with shock, Yami could only stare at the tiny text on the small screen.
Grandpa…had come in to save him at the last minute, as usual. He had infiltrated the group rushing the dome, and had even positioned himself as leader!
"Are you going? It's tonight," Yami said weakly, powering the phone off and putting it back into the book, which he now realized was reinforced with foil along each of the pages. "MTR? What does that stand for?"
Solomon gave him a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"You decide," the old man chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Mountain rock? Masked the rock? Either way, you're going in my place. Seto Kaiba is your pet, not mine."
Yami blinked and a sinking feeling twisted in his stomach.
"A meeting at…2 in the morning?" Yami whispered weakly, his ears ringing with the horrible sound again. "Seto will wonder where I am."
"Lie to him. Have you never done that before?" Solomon replied with a gruff shrug. "Now gear up and eat something before you go."
Yami blinked and didn't move.
"I don't have any gear," he said through numb lips, "at least, nothing current that wouldn't give me away as someone who stopped buying upgrades….3 years ago."
Solomon shook his head in defeat.
"Say you use gear you are familiar with. You are cheap, and need funds, so you'll use whatever you can get your hands on. Think back to how we took our first jobs. Behave like that and you'll be fine."
Yami clenched his fists in despair and watched his grandfather walk back into his bedroom and reemerge with a hexagonal metal tin, placing it with a hollow tink onto the dining table.
"This will make you feel better," the old man scoffed, and Yami lifted the lid off the tin, amazed to see a matte black military watch.
W-WOW?!
"Received this with my monthly pity-you're-old money," grandpa scoffed, and Yami raised his head to stare incredulously, wondering if his ears were playing tricks on him.
What…?!
"Who is giving you pity money?" Yami breathed, and his grandpa chortled evilly.
"Your pet pig, Seto Kaiba. He comes by twice a month now, sometimes he just sends one man with an ugly haircut to give me living funds , and it's a check addressed to ' Yami's grandpa ', almost flagging the bank for an error transaction to a wrong person," Solomon sneered, rolling his eyes. "His money well spent. Take it. It's yours."
Dumbfounded, Yami extracted the watch from the paper setting and slipped it onto his wrist, tightening the band and feeling it sit comfortingly against his skin. Oh…this was nice…
"So I decided, you're right," Solomon continued with a snobby tone. "You've tamed this one very well. I accept him since he knows how to respect his elders. Your reaction tells me he did it behind your back. Look at you two, keeping secrets from each other when you claim to be married. "
Yami's chest tightened with a strange feeling and he was about to protest when he decided to remain silent. It was fine. Seto had obviously tried to win the old man over behind his back. It had…worked…enough to save his life.
More evidence of Seto's gentleness.
The dial of the watch was matte too, and only lit up when he touched a button on the side.
The thick manual that sat inside the gift box had bolded features underneath the watch's name, claiming it was resistant to all kinds of extreme conditions and altitudes.
Perfect.
Renewed with a sense of purpose and determination, Yami stood slowly and gave his grandfather a respectful head nod.
"I'll gear up and meet them at the spot," Yami said carefully, and his grandpa nodded, walking back to sit down behind the two computers, his old, wrinkled face grave. "Thank you…for always catching me when I'm weak. I love you."
"You're welcome," Solomon replied calmly, looking quite satisfied with himself. "You need me after all. I'll run your route through the map of the stadium and tell you my ideas when you return. You're a good boy, Atem."
Yami's throat tightened and he nodded. S-Sure.
He almost missed this–receiving an assignment when he least expected it, then going in Solomon's place, and then returning with the reward. Except this time, it was to protect someone he loved, and the reward was his own happiness, in which Solomon was helping facilitate. It was…heartwarming. "I'll go now," Yami said as he rose to his feet, hurrying to the door to put his shoes on and feeling his grandfather trailing after him with the reinforced book.
"Do you have any henna?" The old man asked gruffly, and Yami shook his head in confusion. No? Why would he need that?
"They might ask you to identify yourself, and…you need an out," Solomon said quietly as he handed Yami the book. "I had a feeling this would come up. One second."
Walking into the kitchen, he extracted a small plastic brick from the cabinets and padded back over to Yami, holding his hand out, "give me your left, inner wrist."
Frowning, Yami dutifully placed his arm into his grandfather's wrinkly hand and tensed in shock when the device was planted on his wrist, and a soft, mechanical whirring clicked in the silence, followed by a damp, rolling across his skin. He was about to jerk his hand back when Solomon's grip tightened around him, "don't move! It'll smear!"
Frozen in place, Yami counted his frantic heartbeats…waiting until his arm was free so he could yank it back to inspect what had been stamped on his wrist. The ink was cool against his skin, with patches still lightly drying in the lines of the thin lettering design, ' ︎'.
"Two," Yami frowned, and Solomon's eyes glowed mischievously.
"Gemini," Solomon replied with a nod. "The ink is henna paste I've refined, and will fade in a week. Meanwhile, don't sweat on it. We can reapply it if need be, but let's say that's a sure sign you are not Atem, should they ask and doubt you."
"And if it smears while they inspect it?" Yami prompted with a dry smile.
"Then you're a dead man, nice knowing you," Solomon huffed, turning to wave over his shoulder, walking back to sit down at the dining table covered with modems and laptops. "Go now, and don't die or you will have wasted everyone's time."
Yami nodded grimly and shoved his feet into his shoes, careful not to get his wrist on anything, hoping it wouldn't smear because his life depended on it.
He was pushed out of the door with the bottle of water, the book containing two phones, and an odd, warm feeling in his chest.
His old man…wasn't too bad.
The door shut behind him and he made his way down the stairwell and lightly jogged his way down to the first floor.
For some odd reason, even though he was in more danger now than when he arrived, he felt better about his predicament.
Seto was lounging on the 4th floor when he noticed Yami taking the stairs up two at a time, and he tilted his head, wondering why he was in such a hurry.
It was 10PM and Yami had been out…all day.
He set his tablet aside and followed Yami up into their bedroom, seeing a thick book under his arm as he walked into the closet.
"Hey," Seto leaned casually against the doorframe and watched Yami set the book on the ground gingerly beside his foot… as if something was inside it, and then he reached into the farthest hanger on the rack for a pair of thick-soled shoes.
"Hey," Yami barely glanced up to give him a smile, and he went back to rummaging in the back, producing a few more shoe boxes and stacking them up beside him, hiding the book from view.
"What're you reading? Had a good day?" Seto prompted, wondering if Yami would tell him where he'd gone.
"I don't plan on reading that, Solomon gave it to me," Yami replied as he raised his gaze to meet Seto's blue-eyed one, his heart fluttering. "I visited him. It was…illuminating."
"Oh, nice," Seto lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. "You guys made up? …You look like you're still headed out."
Yami blinked and nodded, "he said you visited him to give him ' pity money '. He said thank you."
Seto scoffed and rolled his eyes, "sure, tell him I said you're welcome. Where are you going? Back to him?"
Yami nodded again and rested the book atop the boxes of shoes with a thump and gave Seto a shaky smile, "yes, and I'm putting more of these items back into the storage unit. Thinking about…getting rid of it entirely. Unsure."
"Okay. Weird time to be spring cleaning," Seto scowled and eyed the new addition to Yami's wrist. A matte black watch that looked familiar….
"Nice watch," he added, catching a whiff of an odd scent as Yami walked past him with all the boxes, and Yami replied over his shoulder, "it was a gift from Solomon!"
Old man is regifting the shit I bribe him with, Seto growled to himself as he followed Yami out the door, and he felt odd, watching Yami pile the boxes into the back of the car they had kept aside for Mokuba to practice driving in, and he shook his head in confusion.
" Why are you taking the crap Lexus out for a drive?" Seto crossed his arms and contemplated following Yami back to Solomon's apartment.
The red flags were rising.
Yami was moving robotically.
Yami was driving when he hated driving.
The book received preferential treatment in the front seat while the shoe boxes were set in the footwells of the back seats."Because I don't want to take any of your nice cars to the storage unit?" Yami replied calmly, his heart pounding in his ears as he wondered if he would survive this conversation with Seto. It was different earlier in their relationship when he could neglect to mention something about himself or where he'd been, and feel fine afterwards.
Now, he felt a bit of guilt.
"It's not…" Seto paused when he realized he was about to say "it's not equipped with GPS". ..which was exactly what Yami was aiming for. It was a 20-year-old beater car they got for Mokuba to throw around.
The doors weren't even reinforced like their other cars.
This car rarely left their property, and when it did, it was on the back of the truck to the track.
"It's perfectly safe, I'm staying the night until he falls asleep," Yami lied guiltily, avoiding eye contact as he sank into the driver's seat and adjusted the mirrors down. Mokuba was growing up past his height.
"Until who falls asleep? What the fuck are you talking about?" Seto snapped as he walked to stand by the passenger side, wondering if he should just get in. "Take me with you."
"To Solomon's…barren hole?" Yami replied with raised eyebrows, and Seto hesitated."When will you be back?""Whenever I can get away," Yami replied vaguely, tapping the button under his seat to open the garage door, and the soft, mechanical whirring echoed in the spacious garage. "No later than 6 AM. I'll be home to see you before you're off to work."Seto blinked.
6AM?! What the f…
"Okay, what's really going on?" He asked testily, scanning Yami's body and searching for a telltale lump of a phone. "Did you take your phone?"
"No, I don't need it," Yami replied, starting the engine with a sharp stutter of the ignition, and gave the car an experimental rev, the scent of gas stinging his nose as he eyed the gauges on the dashboard. Everything was fine.
"Take your phone," Seto demanded as he planted his feet apart and felt like Yami was slipping away from him for a millisecond. "And I want you to tell me exactly where you're going."
Of course he knows I'm lying, Yami sighed as he rested his wrists atop the wheel and turned to give Seto the softest smile he could manage, his heart wrenching as he told most of the truth as he could manage, "storage unit, and then back to Solomon. He's extremely paranoid. I don't know if you've seen the inside of his place, but he's turned the entire apartment into a faraday cage."
Seto relaxed his stance briefly.
Yeah, he knew that.
He'd gotten glimpses of the inside of the crazy old man's living space.
He'd gotten complaints from other tenants about how 'that demented old man stuck foil to the windows, and it's blinding drivers as they pass on the street! '
"Okay, be safe," Seto stepped away from the edge of the car to avoid getting his toes run over, and Yami gave him a stiff nod, the smile not reaching his eyes as he aimed his gaze forward and rolled off the driveway, the red tail lights burned in his vision when Yami turned the corner and disappeared past the main gates.
Yami was in Ghost Mode.
He recognized this…avoidant behavior. Neglecting to take his phone.
Neglecting to take a car that had a GPS.
Neglecting to overshare details about his visit with Solomon…
Maybe Solomon was activating old parts of Yami that Yami had healed. He would never know.
Trying not to worry too much, Seto walked back into the house and told himself to be accepting.
Yami had made strides in his healing this past year.
Recovery was a jagged slope, not a steady incline.
Maybe visiting the storage unit was activating Robot Yami.
And I still don't know where that damn unit is in all of Domino , if it even is in Domino, Seto growled to himself as he walked slowly up the mansion steps. He only knew that Yami made regular trips out to pack bits and pieces of his trauma away, sometimes bringing some sentimental firearms in to keep inside the safe, but then shuttling it back to storage when he performed 'healing' with it.
Maybe this was like that.
Those were combat boots he'd never seen Yami wear.
They just took up space in the back of their closet when he moved in discreetly.
Yami had said they were for 'just in case'.
Well, he was glad to see those dusty old boxes go.
More closet space for actual clothes he'll wear, Seto thought as he sat blankly down at the edge of his bed, feeling oddly alone.
This would be his first night without Yami beside him in a long time.
Weird feeling.
Trying to shake it off, Seto laid down and picked up his phone to stare at his reflection in the screen. He could GPS tag Yami…because the watch had his chip in it…
Nope. No.
He would trust Yami.
That was part of his own healing too–trusting his partner.
Letting out a sigh, Seto placed his phone face down on the nightstand and tucked his arm under his head, trying to relax. It was fine.
He trusted Yami, and Yami had never done anything to hurt him, ever.
He could trust Yami.
This was a test.
He would pass.
Author's note:
Yami back on his toxic bs but kaiba giving him the space to heal wawwwwww