Yami started the car with a low hum and adjusted the seat down to his height so he could reach the pedals, then he flipped the dead man's wallet out of his blazer, memorizing the address from the ID card and then typing it into his phone to find it on the map.
The tank was half-full, which was perfect.
It was enough to get him to the man's house.
He pulled the car around the road and tapped the wheel, in a surprisingly good mood about manipulating evidence when usually he hated this part of the job. Thinking about his time with Seto really helped.
Rooftops of houses and shop buildings hovered into view at the end of the road, and all Yami had to do was follow the GPS on his phone, taking the car right back to a shallow driveway of a house with a small garden in front. Luckily, this car was low-tech, without a screen, and the radio had been switched out for a newer one.
He drove right up the shallow driveway and parked, climbing out and walking up the front steps, hating how this house was sandwiched between two others. This man had neighbors, who would notice he'd gone missing.
Oh well.
Raising his hand to knock, Yami waited a couple minutes, watching the street and wondering if anyone would answer the door.
His experience told him that losers who hung out on hitboards on the darknet were usually male and single, though he wouldn't put it past the occasional bored, married man searching for a thrill, or a terrifying woman such as Mai, living 6 lives in glamorous variety, wearing 4 faces.
People were never what they seemed.
No one answered the door, so Yami used the man's keys to enter. He stepped inside the home, making sure to tap his shoes off at the bevel, not wanting to track anything inside.
It was a neat, but barren living space, with obvious focus on the giant 4-screen heavy-duty computer setup in the corner of the room, so that's where Yami headed first, sweeping his gaze around the room to note no mess in the kitchen, trash a bit overflowed, and clothes strewn along the couch, and a pair of pants left on the floor by the bathroom door which was open.
Okay… This was a single man.
Yami hovered over the computer and switched it on, walking through the house to draw all the curtains, noting they were triple-lined with the ability to blackout the room. How nice. He threw the entire living room into darkness and slipped on the fishing gloves to hard-reset the man's computer, hoping to wipe everything as quickly as possible.
While that was loading, he turned to take out the man's trash and walked out the back door, inspecting the fence that divided the tiny yard from the neighbors. No cameras were mounted on anyone's side. No cameras at the door either. Was this…too easy?
Staying on alert, Yami tossed the trash into the colored bin and walked back inside, seeing the computer screen flicker and indicate the reset was complete, so he dove in with the mouse and made sure everything was back to a factory setting before he walked into the man's bedroom to dig through the guy's stuff.
Tedious, annoying work…
He found a couple harddrives, which were labeled with dates, so Yami picked the most recent one and plugged it in, restoring the computer to the last time the man dumped his files, and nodded.
Done.
This way, the authorities wouldn't look too far.
He did another walk-through of the house, noting a gun safe in the bathroom–insanity–and nothing else. No photos of women and no pets.
Not even a fish tank.
Loser, Yami scoffed as he left the wallet beside the mouse, but not before taking all the cash out of it, then left the keys in the tray by the door, and the car key on the hook above the key tray. Done.
He walked out the door and didn't lock it behind him. Someone would notice this man was gone eventually. Maybe.
Heading down the sidewalk back into town, Yami walked for a couple kilometers before he passed a school and was intrigued by the groups of kids skating and swinging on the fence surrounding a play structure.
He spotted a bike with dark red paint and sports settings on the handlebars, so he gravitated towards it, pointing at it and waving at any kid who would make eye contact with him.
One kid did, and the boy nudged his friend who was a girl with dark blonde hair, who looked up and gave Yami a suspicious look.
"Can you speak English, yes?" Yami called, pointing at the bike. "Can I have this?"
The girl huffed and stomped over to him to glare, "go away, stranger. Don't touch my bike."
"Can I buy your bike?" Yami asked keenly, reaching into his other pocket for the dead man's cash. "You can buy two or three bikes with this, right? And maybe a…game?"
He offered the folded up cash and stuck it through the wire fence, smiling as hard as he could to try and win her trust.
He wasn't trying to be despicable.
He was trying to avoid store cameras of him buying a bike off the rack and tracing the newly purchased bike back to the vacation home…incriminating the owner and then subsequently anyone who stayed there.
The kid could always buy a new bike.
"How much, and why?" she asked, not letting up and keeping her arms folded. "Take a train. You can speak English to the ticket booth."
"I live far where no trains go," Yami answered honestly, pushing the cash further into the chain link fence, almost feeling like a criminal. "Please hurry and take it. Someone will see and think I'm being a creep."
"Are you a creep?" The kid shot back cheekily, but her eyes stayed nailed to the cash which was hanging precariously through the fence's hole.
"I want a bike, not to be your friend," Yami replied coldly, giving the roll of cash a hard shove, sending it shooting forward to hit the girl on the arm.
The rolled wad fell to the ground and splayed open, the bills almost blowing away from the slight wind that picked up, so the girl quickly knelt to gather it in her hands, glancing up to see the dark-skinned spiky-haired stranger give her a pretty smile and thumbs up.
"You're picking it up, means you accept, right?" Yami pressed as he walked over to the bike which wasn't locked to the railing.
Ah, he felt kind of bad…taking from a kid…
"Wait! ….But it's…my brother's mountain bicycle!" She said, sounding uncertain as she gripped the fistful of cash, her friend coming up beside her and eyeing the cash with wide eyes.
"Then he can have some of the cash, or do you want more?" Yami asked, knowing this would make her feel worse. "Is that not enough? I know bikes cost less than this in the store. Your brother can have a new bike. I'll take good care of it, I promise."
She narrowed her eyes and felt her friend's hand come creeping over her fist to touch the wad of cash and she nudged him away.
….Fine.
It was a lot of money for a bike that wasn't even hers, and she could buy a new one to replace it on the way home, with enough left over for movie tickets and candy.
Good enough.
The spiky-haired man, or teenager–she wasn't sure his age–wheeled her bike away and got on it with ease, without even adjusting any of the seat settings as he rode off.
Oh.
They were the same height. Weird.
Was he a highschool boy…?! But his voice was deep like a man's…
"Hey! That was cool!" Her friend nudged her and tried to swipe a 100 kroner from the wad. "That boy really liked your brother's bike, huh? Let's buy that game we wanted for 600!"
She nodded and counted the cash quickly before folding it all into her pocket, feeling weirdly happy about it. Nice.
Free money, kind of.
Yami coasted down the hill while standing up on the bike's pedals, enjoying the fresh air and wind that whipped his bangs into his cheeks.
The vacation house was in sight, so Yami slowly sank back into the seat and balanced on the bike while checking his phone. He'd only been gone an hour, with 30 minutes on the bike being the majority of that hour.
He paused when something shiny caught his eye a bit further up the road, so he slowed to a stop, horrified to see a detached, human arm with the bloody shoulder joint lying on the side of the dirt path in the tall grass, and the shiny glint he spotted was the man's watch.
Well, fuck. He had been messy with this one.
Seto Kaiba was really throwing him off.
He thought he'd taken everything.
Parking the bike with a sweep of his foot, Yami walked over to slip on his gloves and picked up the arm, making sure to slip the watch off, pocket it, and ride the rest of the way back into the house with the arm at his side, trying not to smell it or think about it.
He reached the door and parked the bike right by the fence, leaving the arm on the ground by the tall yellow wildflowers Seto had picked for their first dinner and he winced. Better make sure Seto didn't pick any more flowers, lest some of them have blood or remains on it.
Wheeling the bike around the side of the house, he leaned it against the wall by the garden and stared at the plot of dirt, noting the few tomatoes and onions sprouting. No, he would not taint this person's garden. He'd go back to the forest–
"Yami?!" Seto was calling for him inside the house, and Yami froze, his heart thundering with a strange feeling. Fear? He never felt his kind of paralyzing fear before. Even when faced with an army, with hellfire raining down around him, he never felt this…frozen.
This was pure dread.
Seto finding out would…ruin everything.
"I'm here!" Yami called as loud as he could, racing around the house to get to the door, peeling off the gloves and shoving it into his pocket, making sure his gun was tucked against his back and not showing.
Seto pried the front door open and frowned, noticing Yami was pink in the cheeks, slightly out of breath and grinning happily.
Okay sheesh, he loved the outside that much huh?
"What the fuck were you doing? Chasing more deer? …Can you walk?" Seto scanned Yami's slender form, noticing he was wearing another set of clothes, and a pair of dusty old fishing gloves were stuck in an obvious bulge in the front pocket. "Gardening?"
"These are for fishing," Yami began as he tried not to let the panic show on his face. He'd left the disembodied arm by the fence near the wildflowers. Seto looking in that direction might be able to see fingers, or something…
"Oh yeah, you said you wanted to try fishing? I saw a...box of stuff," Kaiba nodded eagerly and pulled the door back wider. "And I saw you set up a bunch of tech to watch deer. You could just watch your cameras instead of running outside every 4 minutes."
"You must think I really like deer," Yami said with an amused smile, and Kaiba gave him a smirk.
"We'll visit an island of deer for our next vacation, how's that?" Kaiba said, knowing this might elicit an extreme reaction, and he was right.
Yami blinked rapidly and his mouth dropped open and then closed in disbelief, "a deer island? Don't lie, Seto Kaiba." And… next vacation? He was still trying to get through this one alive.
"The deer come up to you, and you can feed them, and pet them," Kaiba continued gleefully, watching Yami's face turn bright red.
"I'll believe you when we arrive on this…island of tame deer," Yami said with a playful nod. "In the meantime, I'm hungry, so cook me something. I found tomatoes in the garden but they're all raw."
"I saw them, and yeah, don't pick them," Kaiba said as he let Yami walk past him, the spikes of Yami's hair grazing the center of his chest as Yami walked by, making his heart race. "The owner left a list of house rules …I read them then I put it down somewhere. If we need anything special, we're supposed to call the housekeeper."
Yami nodded and nodded again. Great. He needed to see that list of house rules. Pretty sure, "burying human remains in the garden" wasn't written, but it was probably common courtesy not to do that.
"Well I need to do some laundry if I'm to have anything to wear for the rest of our stay, so put on a movie, cook your delicious food for us, and let's have a nice evening," Yami said as he held Kaiba's cold blue gaze, his heart leaping in his chest.
He really needed to go back outside to get the damn arm.
Kaiba needed to be busy for that to happen.
Kaiba nodded and walked proudly into the kitchen, glad that Yami was eager to eat his food. He wasn't the best cook, but he knew how to add salt, so he was happy his mediocre skills were appreciated.
"I'm doing laundry! And finding the house rules list!" Yami called over his shoulder as he walked up the steps, and he saw Kaiba's brown head of hair nod and then heard something sizzling on the pan.
"Okay!" Kaiba called back, feeling weird about how casual they were being together. It was day 4 of constant fucking and it felt great. Yami felt familiar. Was that a red flag? He didn't know since his own sense of boundaries was fucked up anyway…
He could hear footsteps thumping down the stairs as he sliced bell pepper, and Yami's deep voice echoed from downstairs, "found it! You left it atop the washer unit!"
"...Don't care!" Kaiba raised his voice slightly to reply, and decided to put something on while he cooked. He tapped the remote and played whatever channel was on the TV and kept his head down, enjoying himself.
Yami's footsteps were thumping up the stairs again, and then back down, and Kaiba smiled. Wow, someone was lively.
Nice to know their fucking wasn't crippling Yami, because he seemed to be moving around just fine.
Down in the basement level, Yami shoved his dirty clothes into the washer unit and quickly read the English instructions while turning the dials. Okay. One task down, now…for the arm.
He softly climbed the stairs and inched out through the main room, quietly walking to the door and easing it open, and then shut.
Letting Kaiba know he was constantly outside was a bad look. The 'deer obsession' misunderstanding might get out of hand, and Kaiba might start giving him deer-themed gifts.
He could see it going far and wide.
An island of deer sounded hellish and strange.
Putting the fishing gloves back on, Yami picked up the arm and fluffed up the grass it was sitting on, hoping the scent and dried blood wouldn't attract wild possums as he took it back towards the garden and loosely buried it in the dirt by the tomatoes.
There. Temporary solution.
When Kaiba was asleep, he'd move it deeper into the trees, off this person's property, and if some animal dragged it back here, that wouldn't be his problem.
Nervously patting the dirt to make sure stiff fingers wouldn't emerge upwards, Yami stood up and walked back into the house, ready for another shower.
What a day.
Kaiba set the table nicely and contemplated refreshing the flowers because the yellow ones he'd picked on their first day were wilting. He shrugged and emptied the water from the vase into the sink and decided the flowers looked cute when dry, so he set the half-dead flowers back on the table.
Yami's reaction to that should be telling.
Sometimes he dated girls who really cared about the center setting.
Those were red flags he could recognize.
Wasn't Yami a filthy-rich angel investor? They were the same age, so where did all his money come from? He appeared to be…very wealthy. And when in private, acted like a huge miser, doing his own laundry on vacation.
They were similar…. Maybe Yami needed stuff arranged a certain way?
The questions came up fast and Kaiba stuffed them back down.
If he asked questions, he'd get answers he'd hate, he knew that much.
It was fine like this for now.
The less he knew about Yami, the more fun it was.
Chances were, he might already know the answer to the questions he was asking.
"...Food!" Kaiba called, and he crossed his legs to wait, hearing Yami rushing around upstairs, probably folding laundry or something.
He glanced up at the TV and noticed it was the news, and a reporter was talking about a missing person.
Boring.
He stood up to find the remote and changed the channel to a children's cartoon instead and contented himself with that.
Yami came jogging back down, showered and handsome, and that caught Kaiba off guard again.
Was he insane or was Yami showering a lot randomly when he was awake?
Mental illness? Be my friend, Kaiba smiled broadly and gestured at the smoked fish omelet and mushroom salad he'd made.
"That was the last of the eggs," he said as Yami sat down gracefully and nodded happily at the breakfast. "Want to go into town for our last day here?"
"No," Yami replied calmly as he picked up his fork and almost forgot to perform the customary Japanese thanks. He placed his hands together and lowered his head, "Thank you, Seto. Let's eat." And he dug in, aware that Kaiba was once again staring at him, picking his appearance apart, so he had to make sure every hair was in place, not to give anything away. What he'd learned was Kaiba would loyally respond to even a mere displeased eyebrow raise, so he had to express himself carefully.
Okay weirdo, or not, I don't care, Kaiba thought to himself as he ate his own food and realized Yami hadn't commented about the dead flowers. He'd ask.
"What do you think about my table setting this time?" he prompted and Yami glanced up, confused for a second before he noted the dried flowers in the vase and smiled.
"Oh, glad they're not new," Yami said with a relieved smile. Because in his haste, he'd forgotten to tell Kaiba not to pick the flowers, when he'd mentally reminded himself about it.
"You don't like flowers?" Kaiba asked, wondering if that sounded rude, but Yami laughed and replied, "I love flowers…in nature. Picking them was a special occasion and I'm happy you did. Thank you. Want me to get you flowers?"
"No, don't waste your money," Kaiba replied gruffly, stabbing his fork into his fish and shoving it into his mouth to chew, his ears burning hot when he felt a rush of something that felt like embarrassment.
Yami smiled and got up to fill glasses of wine, handing one to Kaiba and leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling his lips tingle when he pulled away, and he had to admire the way Kaiba's hair fell nicely over his brow. So handsome.
"I like you," Yami said simply as he sat back down on his side of the table and caught Kaiba's cheeks flushing.
Kaiba kept his head lowered and almost hated how his heart jumped to the back of his throat and made it hard for him to reply. G-God, he felt like such a sap whenever Yami complimented him.
"I like you too," Kaiba said hoarsely, reaching for the wine and eager to feel drunk. He tossed it back in three gulps and decided to suggest an activity that didn't involve sex. "Want to try fishing?" And then if they were bored of that, they could fuck.
"Sure," Yami smirked and got up to walk out onto the terrace, pulling open one of the pop-out plastic chairs while Kaiba followed him with the wine glass and helped him set up the portable table.
The tackle box was opened and Kaiba wrinkled his nose at all the tiny parts and the horrible, sour smell.
So… He knew nothing about fishing other than what he did in video games…
"It stinks right?" Yami chuckled as he lifted layers of the box up and found another set of gloves rolled up underneath. Oh good. He was learning a hard lesson here–never traveling on 'vacation' without gloves. Ever.
This fishing box also had everything he might need…
"If it attracts the fish, I don't give a shit," Kaiba scowled, feeling his mood souring fast. It was getting cold too, with the sun dipping lower in the sky while a heavier wind picked up. "I'm going to grab a jacket."
"And I'll figure this out," Yami nodded happily into the box and then looked up to wave, watching Kaiba grumpily step around the chairs and walk back into the house with the wine glass in hand.
Yami blinked and waited until Kaiba's shadow disappeared up the steps before he snatched the gloves up, along with the fishing fillet knife, and ran down the steps to reach the garden.
Kneeling by the plot of tomatoes, he brushed the dirt aside and strategically sliced away part of the arm's flesh, wincing as he scraped the hair off the skin with the edge of the knife and brought the pieces back to bait the hooks of two fishing rods that were leaning against the wall by the terrace railing.
He set the rods over the edge, tying them to the railing and hearing the telltale plop when the baits hit the water, and he stared anxiously across the lake, thinking no fish would come, but this was a great way to dispose of the arm without going into the forest again to arouse Kaiba's suspicion.
Kaiba came walking back down the stairs and chanced a glance out the large windows towards the front of the house, noticing that the abandoned car had vanished. Interesting. Or not.
He tossed the extra sweater he'd grabbed for Yami over his shoulder and stepped out onto the terrace, pleased to see that Yami had intelligently tied the rods to the wooden railing and was waiting it out.
"Here," Kaiba draped the sweater over Yami's shoulders and received a pretty smile. "I noticed you only brought like three t-shirts and one suit."
My only suit, "Thank you," Yami nodded and smiled as he inched off the heavy-duty gloves and pulled the sweater on, his heart warming at Seto's scent that enveloped him when the neck of the sweater passed his nose. He smelled…good…
It was a nice, thick, turtleneck sweater with the sleeves too long, the ends nearly reaching his knees like a dress, and the only part that fit was around his neck.
Kaiba let out a huff of laughter and gave Yam's puffy sleeve a tug. "You're small."
"I am," Yami said quietly, snuggling up in the sweater and leaning his head against Kaiba's arm to look out across the beautiful water, reflecting the sun with glistening strips. "Perfect for throwing around–oh! A bite!"
What? Kaiba blinked, thrown off by the suggestive comment and then the sudden rush to grab the pole right beside his elbow. Yami snatched it off the railing tie and pulled it closer to his chest, feeling the fish fight back slightly, so he eased up and gave Kaiba a happy grin.
"The bait is strong," he said simply as he reeled it in, listening to the flapping of fins against the water as Kaiba merely gaped at him.
"Youlike …camping and shit!" Kaiba cried, watching Yami ignore him for a second before holding his hand out urgently, crying out, "gloves! Quick! …And don't touch it by the fingers!"
And he treats me like I'm inept at being outside! I love it! Kaiba reeled as he passed Yami the gloves by the wristband, and he held the swaying fishing rod for Yami while Yami slipped the gloves on with lightning speed and snatched the rod back, pulling up a small flapping fish from the water and beaming triumphantly at him.
"Now where do we put it?" Yami asked seriously, and Kaiba glanced around the barren terrace, his laughter climbing up his chest. F-Fuck if he knew!
Somewhere to start eating it would be nice, because their fridge was almost empty.
"A pot? A …sauce pan… on the stove," Kaiba began slowly, and Yami gave him a slow blink.
"This needs to be cleaned, and…killed," Yami repeated with the same slow tone, the fish still flapping violently against his forearm, getting the sweater sleeve wet. "And now I smell. Well, your sweater is a bit…ruined."
Fucking…A! Kaiba set the wine glass down and dashed into the house to find a bucket or something, hearing Yami's boisterous laughter echoing behind him.
Great. He knew he wasn't dumb, but Yami sure made him feel dumb.
Finally. Someone who could keep up with him and maybe even test him.
He found a large metal bucket in the cabinets underneath and saw a big fish logo stamped into the side. Right. This would do.
Running it back outside, he set it down by Yami's feet and watched Yami unhook the fish from the line with a practiced motion and plop the still wiggling fish in the bucket. E-Egh…
Was this supposed to be fun? Or sexy?
"Right, that was successful!" Yami beamed and noticed Kaiba was wearing a disgusted frown, and he laughed again. The CEO would really not do well in any situation where he wasn't fed and watered wine and coffee every 4 hours at a table covered with a nice cloth.
"You have fun. I'll do the …cooking of it," Kaiba winced and sat back down in his seat to take up the wine glass again. "You fish, I'll drink."
"I'll cook it," Yami smirked and had to add, "because this is my treat." Also because he wanted to be in charge of cleaning the fish thoroughly–there was a human remain in it. Maybe he could get away with not cooking it and leaving it frozen for the host to later smoke and store.
Yeah, that was a good plan.
The main goal was getting rid of a dead man's arm.
Kaiba rolled his eyes and shrugged. New things he was learning about his fuck-buddy.
Yami liked deer, nature, and outdoorsy stuff. He probably moved to Japan to hike a mountain.
He sniffed his wine to stop himself from smelling the fishy brine, and watched Yami dash off down the terrace, calling over his shoulder, "I'm going to dig up more bait from the garden! That seemed to work well. Keep an eye on the other rod, won't you? Don't tug too hard or the fish will break free!"
Boo, Kaiba wrinkled his nose and waved carelessly over his head.
He should not have agreed to fishing.
Given how ripped Yami's physique was, why was he surprised that this guy liked the outdoors? He needed to get Yami into a video game or something.
He settled into his seat and contemplated getting a blanket from inside when Yami came jogging back up the steps and baited the hook with what looked like a pink worm, and tossed it into the water with an impressive throw. Wow okay. Mr. Athletic over here.
"I'm getting another blanket," Kaiba announced and he got up to go back inside, wondering if he could ever get along with someone this active. Yeah, maybe. He could ruin Yami slowly by making him do activities that he liked instead. Make him gain some weight and lose some muscles.
This is the last outdoor date we're gonna have, Kaiba swore as he picked up a throw from the couch and heard a soft knock on the door. He paused and glanced up, wondering if he was hallucinating, but no, it happened again.
Someone knocked twice.
Okay, Kaiba bunched the blanket up in his arms before deciding to just leave it on the couch, not wanting to take it to the door.
He walked across the beautiful wooden floors that were reflecting the early evening sun, and when he pulled the door back, he was mildly surprised to see two police officers. Oh.
They were…officers, right?
They wore black caps, blue shirts, and a badge on the sleeve.
"Mr. Karlsen?" The officer looked confused before his co-worker corrected him.
"This is not him. Mr. Karlsen is blonde and…60," the other officer gave Kaiba a stern up and down look. "His son?"
Kaiba gripped the door handle and gathered his thoughts slowly.
What should he say?
He hated cops.
They were the enemy, but he was a guest here.
The truth was a good place to start, right?
Author's note:
Uh ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh someone DID call the police on Yami after he posted that picture online!