I made the "body works / demonstration" joke already in "Cables," but I couldn't help myself. The whole point of these stories is parallels, after all.
One might have called them: "Treatises on Kaibas and Their White-Haired Partners Who Might Be Cryptids."
Just saying.
.
Seto had never, in all his life, been fond of sweets. He learned quickly that Kisara had a sweet tooth that could rival Mokuba at his most petulant. Seto wondered if the dragon helped insulate her against the health problems associated with just how much sugar she could pack away, as her doctors never once mentioned anything but stellar numbers; she was in perfect health. Perhaps it was the dragon who liked candy so much? Seto had no way of knowing.
Was sugar a delicacy in the world of duel monsters? The place Kisara called the Barrier?
"Have you ever had trouble with cavities?" Seto ventured to ask once.
Kisara shrugged. "No," she said flatly. "My teeth are too strong. Nothing your weak mortal hands could make are capable of breaking any part of me." She flashed her fangs; it was a joke, of course, but Seto couldn't deny that he was . . . intrigued.
He needed to know more.
"You know other dragons, yes? There must be others."
"Of course," Kisara said, with a firm nod. "The High Court must represent all of monster-kind. My noble cousins, and my not-so-noble cousins, are many and plenty."
"Do they also like sweet things? Cookies and cakes and such."
"Quite so," said Kisara, then she narrowed her eyes. "You have that look again, my prince. You are studying something."
"It's just," Seto gesticulated randomly, "I've never seen someone so religious about Girl Scout Cookies . . . except for me." He put a hand against his chest. "I know that I buy them because I'm pathologically unable to deny a young child anything. But you . . ."
"Ah." Kisara nodded again; she'd worked out a mystery. "Yes, yes, I understand. There are many dealings with the dangers of sugar. Diabetes and heart disease and such things. You wonder how it is that I am not unmade."
"Not in so many words." Seto gestured again. "Fuel is fuel. The human body isn't so stupid as to not make use of things marketed to us as 'junk food.' I'm hardly surprised to meet someone in good health who eats things they 'shouldn't.'" He made quotes with his fingers. "It's just that you are the only person I know with a dragon in her blood, and I cannot help but wonder if this is a factor in how your body works."
"I run hot, if that is what you mean. My body requires more . . . fuel, as you call it, than most. I imagine the dragon must have something to do with that." Kisara's eyes twinkled. "But if you are curious about how my body works, my prince, I can give you a demonstration."
Seto felt his face go hot. "That is not what I meant, and you know it."
Kisara tossed her head back and laughed.
It was a lovely sound, Kisara's laugh. Bright and full and unapologetic. She was, perhaps, the single most honest person Seto had ever met. Oh, she lied often enough; there was no way to grow up in a political family and not learn how to lie. But she lived so thoroughly, with her feet planted and her eyes on the horizon, that honesty shone through in her regardless.
It wasn't just about words.
Sometimes, it was just about being.