Of Ballads and Reveries

DISCLAIMER: (Yes, I actually have a disclaimer this time. Why, you ask? Because I don’t want to be barraged with needless “OMFG, u cOpIEd dat pOEM!” crap, I answer.)

NO, I DO NOT OWN THE POEM IN THIS FANFICTON. THAT’S WHY IT’S BEEN ITALICIZED AND/OR WRITTEN IN “QUOTES.” ALL CREDIT GOES BACK TO THE INGENUITY OF ALFRED NOYES. (OH. EM. GEE. … That was a major spoiler.)

And for the hell of it, I don’t own Yuugiou either.

…

Get it? Got it? GOOD.

Now you may continue reading, beloved readers.

Dear sister,

Hopefully you’re getting this a day before you leave. If you didn’t, then accept my sincerest apologies and know that I’ll unleash my utmost wrath upon the damned mail carrier that failed to complete his mission. I will be vindicated!

…

I’m rambling, aren’t I?

Besides Rashid being totally spastic, he and I are doing fine. I think your over-protectiveness rubbed off on him…negatively. He still swears I’m going to go “Yami no Malik,” and try to take over the world or something. Do I look like a miniature white mouse with an oversized brain tumor? I don’t think so.

Well, I’ll keep this short and sweet. Ryou’s coming over soon and we’re going to conspire to kill the Pharaoh. (… Heh. Got you, didn’t I?) Come home soon, sister! I miss you! (UGH. Disregard the utter touchy-feely implications of what I just wrote. You know I’ve never been great with poetry. … I blame father!)

See you soon,
Your brother, Malik

P.S. I would’ve called but Rashid spilled Koshari all over the telephone cord and now it’s on the sprits. Literally. (Dear Ra, I miss your cooking.)

P.P.S. Don’t believe a word Rashid says! I didn’t touch the freaking Sennen Rod! I swear!

Ishizu blinked, stared at the letter and blinked again. If making a reference to world domination, Bakura Ryou and the Sennen Rod hadn’t trouble her, then the fact that it seemed to have been onto the paper did. Noting the random size changes and partial Arabic calligraphy, she came to the conclusion that it had been written in a very, short amount of time. Possibly a Hey let's not make Ishizu worry, afterthought.

Well guess what? It had done just the opposite.

Sighing, she refolded the letter and tucked it back into the pocket of her crème dress. She had been gone for a month, a mere month: 4 weeks; 31 days; 744 hours; 44,640 minutes—and their “home” (if it could even be called one) was probably already under siege by some ragtag battalion of power-hungry buffoons.

Good thing she had convinced herself to bring her own Sennen Item.

Tucking a stray lock of obsidian hair behind her ear, Ishizu shook her head and made a mental note to tell her younger brother to cut the dry sarcasm out of his letters. It just wasn’t helping. She didn’t have time for this.

Her flight would be leaving in less than twenty-four hours—sixteen hours to be exact—and she still needed to: pack up the leftover artifacts; take down the large, flamboyant signs that read EGYPT EXHIBIT HERE; and then shoot off to the post office to secure a first-class delivery of about twenty different boxes that were all fragile.

Oh, right, and she still had to find time to eat, sleep and BREATHE.

…

Perfect. Just perfect.

Busying herself with wrapping up one of the vases, she silently cursed her so-called “team” of archaeologists for abandoning her in her time of need. (And for a brief side note, WHY hadn’t her Sennen Tauk picked this up beforehand?) Here she was, armed with tape, a roll of bubble wrap and a stack of boxes while they were probably making some discovery that would revolutionize the world of Egyptology as we knew it.

“We’ll help you pack up, Ishizu!”

“Yeah, you can count on us!”

“I’m already setting the date in my planner!”

“Ishizu?”

Blinking and half expecting to see one of her companions, the Egyptian turned around. Much to her disappointment, all she found was a short, plump old man staring back at her sympathetically.

Ra preserve her. An “enlightening” visit by the museum’s curator was the last thing she needed.

She refrained from gritting her teeth at being interrupted and instead stooped into a bow. This was one of the many handy tricks that she had learned during her stay in Japan. “When in doubt, bow like there’s no tomorrow!”—that was what Malik had told her.

“Himoroshi-san,” Ishizu began softly, “It’s good to see you.”

She silently congratulated herself for adding the proper ending. Frankly, she did not want to go through having to apologize a thousand times for accidentally using ‘-chan’ instead of ‘-san,’ or vice versa.

“I can’t believe you’re still here!” he exclaimed frantically. “Your flight leaves tomorrow, doesn’t it? My goodness, you’ve still got so much to put away! Weren’t you supposed to have a team of people help you?”

…

It was all Ishizu could do to keep from going postal at the man. He had the best of intentions in mind, but did he really have to pry and barrage her with questions about circumstances she was already fully aware of?

“They had…prior engagements, or so to speak,” she replied hastily.

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that,” he muttered somberly.

So was she.

Letting a sigh escape her once more, Ishizu turned back to her roll of bubble wrap. Thoughtlessly , she crushed one of the plastic bubbles with her fingernail. Pop. She stared down at the deflated miniature bubble, musing on how aptly it described her situation at the moment:

Doomed to failure.

“…Ishizu.”

She awoke from her almost melancholic trance with a start. Setting down the bubble wrap, Ishizu turned her attention back towards her supervisor.

“What if I made you a deal that could help both our situations?”

Her eyebrows furrowed together questioningly, “What do you mean?”

“Well…” he began contemplatively, “I’m expected to show up at this…meeting-party regarding Domino City’s future construction plans tonight, but today also happens to be my son’s graduation. Going to the party would mean having to miss seeing my son graduate.” He paused to collect his thoughts.

“Ishizu, if you can somehow take my place, I’ll be able to go to my son’s graduation.”

…

She hesitated and chose her words carefully, “…But how can I possibly have time to go when I still have to—”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted gently, “I’ll handle things here, too. I did say this would help both of us, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” She trailed off indecisively.

“…a ‘party?’”

Himoroshi laughed, “Don’t worry. It’s going to be very nonchalant, nothing special.” His eyes twinkled. “And don’t concern yourself over the construction lingo either. I’ve been to about thirty of these things and have yet to discover what the difference between a ‘megaplex’ and ‘cineplex’ are.” He chuckled.

She swallowed with much difficulty. What was she going to do? She was backed up into a corner! If she said no then he would be missing one of the most important moments in his son’s life. If she agreed then she would be forced to go to some soirée with roughly forty other guests that were expertise in the profession of construction, not to mention incessantly worry about the future of her precious artifacts throughout the night!

Why was destiny testing her like this?

“So what do you say?” he finally asked, “Is it a deal?”

Ishizu glanced down first at his outstretched hand and then around the room. Rolls of masking tape, rows of half-packed boxes and tablets just waiting to be boxed up stared back at her almost forebodingly. Lightly biting her lip, Ishizu finally nodded.

“It’s a deal, Himoroshi-san,” she agreed, shaking the hand that had been extended towards her.

“Thank you, Ishizu. You have no idea how much this means to me,” he replied with a grateful smile.

She plastered on weak smile. Abruptly feeling the immense weight of the gold that rested against her neck, Ishizu shifted her sapphire eyes to the large, manila clock that sat against the wall. She took in a deep breath, feeling as if she was about to run her first marathon.

3:14 PM.

15 hours and 46 minutes.

“Name?”

“Ishizu Ishtar.”

Brief silence.

“You aren’t on the list.”

“I’ve come on behalf of Himoroshi Yokio.”

“Why did he send you?”

“He had a commitment to uphold.”

A skeptic glance. “To whom?”

“His son.”

The middle-aged woman peered at the Egyptian through the thick frames of her spectacles. Ishizu stared back calmly, obviously unruffled by the offhand bombardment of 20 Questions.

Stare.

Stare.

After minutes of silence, the hotel receptionist finally relented. Unclasping the rope that was barring Ishizu from entering the lavishly decorated conference room, she muttered something about “not being informed” and how she “should’ve taken that job as an office clerk.”

After minutes of silence, the hotel receptionist finally relented. Unclasping the rope that was barring Ishizu from entering the lavishly decorated conference room, she muttered something about “not being informed” and how she “should’ve taken that job as an office clerk.”

Ishizu refrained from smiling and instead stepped inside, “Arigatou gozaimasu.”

The receptionist made a point in grunting, but to no avail; the view of the room had left Ishizu breathless. This was supposed to be a conference room? To her, it looked more like a ballroom.

Perhaps that why this was called a “meeting-party.”

Ivory tiles decorated with elaborate triangles and diamond mosaics adorned the floor while a fresco reminiscent of Andrea Mantegna’s Camera degli Sposi donned the ceiling. She watched as a few waiters made some last-minute adjustments to the refreshments that had been laid out for them.

“Ah, you must be Ishizu Ishtar!”

She turned around, only to have her hand shaken by a bald-headed man with glasses. Forcing a smile, she spoke through her surprise.

“Yes, I am and you are…?”

“Oh. Right…”

An untimely pause led Ishizu to wonder if he had forgotten his name.

“…Akimitsu Yoshi. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ishizu—I can call you Ishizu, can’t I?”

She managed to nod before he began blathering on.

He smiled brightly, “Wonderful then! But as I was saying, it’s truly an honor to meet you. Your Egyptian Exhibit in the Domino Museum was absolutely fantastic! Those artifacts were amazing. Ancient Egypt’s always interested me, you know, so meeting you is like the icing on the cake!”

Ishizu continued to smile and nod as he carried on the one-sided conversation. Her eyes casually trailed across the taupe walls until they had a clear view of the grandfather clock that stood at the right corner of the room.

5:55 PM.

The meeting began in another five minutes.

Silently counting down the minutes, snippets of the alleged “conversation” began to penetrate her thoughts.

“…my son never liked the Egyptian Exhibit. Even my wife began scolding me for taking him there. She said I was ‘starting him too early,’ but when is four-years-old too early for enrichment? The earlier they get started, the better off they’ll be is what I always say—”

“Akimitsu-san.”

A hand tapped his shoulder.

He held up his index finger towards her, “Sumimasen.”

She watched as the men muttered in a mixture of Japanese and English. She had heard of Spanglish, but Japanglish? She continued to ponder the thought halfheartedly.

“Forgive me, Ishizu,” Akimitsu said at last, “but there are a few things that I need to organize before the meeting begins—” he paused and looked down at his watch, “—which would be in less than five minutes.”

His hand motioned over towards the center of the room, “Why don’t you go have a seat? We’ll be beginning shortly.”

Ishizu complied almost delightedly. After thanking him for his interest in the Egyptian Exhibit, she quickly made her way towards the semi-circular seating arrangement. Avoiding the questioning gazes of those who had already seated themselves, she sat down near the left-end of the arch.

Time continued to tick down. One by one, the chairs slowly began filling up. Soon, the once forty vacant seats reduced to twenty-five…

…fifteen

…ten

…five

…and then there was one.

Ishizu glanced at the seat to her left. Empty. Her Tauk suddenly grew warm. A vision?

…

She waited a few moments. Nothing. What was wrong with her? There was no need to worry. Whoever was missing was probably just running late. That was ordinary; there was nothing unusual about that.

But then why was she feeling so uncertain?

“Welcome, all, to our Board of Directors Meeting!”

Ishizu was shaken from her thoughts as a familiar, bubbly voice reverberated into the room. She looked towards the center and saw Akimitsu glowing from his spot from the podium.

Board of Directors Meeting? Why had Himoroshi failed to mention THIS?

“As you know, we will be discussing Domino City’s future plans for building and restoration. Rest assured that this late afternoon meeting will be painless—hopefully.” He took a brief pause while soft laughter rang throughout the audience.

“I’m glad to see that all of you made it…” he started, scanning the room as if he was looking for a needle in a bushel of hay. Akimitsu suddenly frowned.

“…well, almost all of you did.”

His eyes pointed to the vacant seat next to Ishizu. She looked down at it. From her understanding, attending these “conferences” was mandatory. So who could possibly afford not showing up at all—?

“Everyone made it.”

Footsteps followed the cold tone of voice. As they came to a stop behind her, Ishizu felt herself tense in an instant.

This couldn’t be…

She turned around as nonchalantly as she could, only to have her worst suspicions confirmed.

A man stood before her. One hand casually rested to his side while the other gripped a silver-toned briefcase. He was completely clad in black—save for a silver belt buckle with the words ‘KC’ inscribed onto it. The dark shade of his clothing accentuated his pale skin and high cheekbones, while the sunglasses that shielded his eyes from view gave him an almost dangerous appearance.

Suddenly realizing what her Tauk had been trying to tell her, a dismayed Ishizu turned back around. Why had fate guided her here? Why had she been brought closer to the one person she had come to despise above all? Of all the meetings that she could have possibly gone to, of all the people that could have possibly attended…

Why him? Why—

“—Kaiba Seto!” Akimitsu’s voice had become a surprising squeak.

“K-Kaiba-san! I didn’t expect that you…I didn’t realize that you were the one…”

“For an established public speaker, you’re being rather incoherent. Don’t you think?”

“Err…um, yes… Forgive me, Kaiba-san…”

“Forget the apologies, Akimitsu,” Kaiba replied harshly. He reached up a hand and pulled off his sunglasses, shaking a stray russet bang away from his face. It fell back moments later, elegantly half-shading his brilliant ice blue yes.

With a graceful swish of his coat, Kaiba silently moved and took the available seat next to Ishizu. She looked at him apprehensively from over her shoulder. He returned her gaze almost knowingly. Their eyes locked together briefly before Ishizu averted her eyes. It was then that she realized that nearly everyone was staring at Kaiba, as if waiting for him to speak.

Kaiba’s eyes carelessly scanned the room. He folded his arms across his chest and lightly smirked, apparently unperturbed.

“If memory serves, this is supposed to be a meeting and not a staring contest.”

Muffled whispers and subdued coughs rang through the crowd of people as they regained self-control. Akimitsu cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Yes, anyway…as I was saying…”

He paused and anxiously began fumbling through his papers. As the crowd continued to childishly point, gossip and stare, Ishizu instinctively let her fingers graze the golden eye of her Sennen Tauk.

This was going to be a long night.

Blink, blink

She hurried to refocus her eyes as the lights finally turned back on, signaling the conclusion of the movie.

And she used that term loosely.

She hurried to refocus her eyes as the lights finally turned back on, signaling the conclusion of the movie. And she used that term .

In all honesty, who could possibly refer to a video of a senile man rambling on and on for an hour and fifteen minutes a movie? But she had to admit that she was impressed. Who knew anyone could find a more ridiculous connection between reconstruction and organic farming.

“Well, wasn’t that an inspirational—”

A pause and cough, courtesy of Akimitsu.

“—erm, wasn’t that inspirational?”

The audience stirred and reluctantly began clapping. Ishizu dared to take a sidelong glance at Kaiba. He sat still, not even bothering to clap. Truth be told, he seemed completely uninterested and impatient—which, in his case, was a very bad combination.

“Kudaran,” she heard him mutter under his breath. Boring. Ridiculous. Nonsense.

For once, she had to agree with him.

“Our next speaker will be Ieyasu Teiljo, the esteemed president and CEO of Tokugawa Financial Group, Incorporated. He will be discussing the financial aspects regarding Domino City’s future construction plans.”

Soft applause followed as a stern, black-haired man took the podium. He murmured a curt “Thank you” to Akimitsu for introducing him and then turned back towards the crowd. Ishizu was left in awe at his age. He looked to be only twenty-three—twenty-five at the most—and yet he was already president and CEO of a financial group? Perhaps he had risen through the ranks at a young age, she speculated in silence.

So Kaiba wasn’t the only one.

“While Domino’s plans to renovate and construct are admirable, they aren’t exactly plausible—especially with the unquestionable financial deficit that it will impose upon the city,” he replied in a rich baritone. The crowd shifted, looking seemingly interested for the first time.

“A financial deficit?” a blonde-haired woman inquired skeptically, “How can you be so sure?”

“It’s evident. Domino’s economic stability is slowly crumbling. In comparison to last year, there’s been a decrease of nearly 3.1 percent.”

Murmured worries buzzed through the crowd. Kaiba couldn’t have looked more apathetic.

“But how could Domino have been so financially careless?” the man seated to Ishizu’s right questioned hastily.

Ieyasu sifted through his papers. “Among an increase in unemployment rates and imbalance of supply and demand, there is the ever-popular card game Magic & Wizards. It could very well jeopardize all of Domino City.”

All eyes turned back to Kaiba, whose face was set as hard as stone.

“Magic & Wizards? But what’s that got to do with Domino?” another asked.

“I’m glad you asked that,” Ieyasu replied grimly. “As you know, earlier this year Domino City had become a ‘Battle City,’ or so to speak. It was home to the renowned Magic & Wizards Tournament—held by Kaiba Seto himself.”

His dark eyes dangerously cut across to Kaiba. He stared back emotionlessly.

“I fail to see the relevance of your point.”

Ieyasu’s lips curled, “My point is that your tournament caused most of Domino to go on a dueling rampage. Anyone in this room will tell you that they saw at least one shop closed to business due to the aforementioned tournament.”

A dry laugh. “And now I suppose you’re going to accuse me of bribing these alleged shop owners and their employees into my tournament? They came of their own free will. Perhaps you should do a background check before carelessly reproaching others for the sake of the argument, Ieyasu.”

The audience nodded and whispered in agreement.

“…he does have a point…”

“…perhaps Ieyasu-san is embellishing things…”

Ieyasu’s jaw tightened as he glared directly at an expressionless Kaiba.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he spat bitterly, “Persuading is effortless for the Great Kaiba Seto.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s obvious that you and that woman at your right conspired to make the tournament.” Ishizu looked up just in time to see Ieyasu’s glare now turned towards her.

“Tell me, were you the one who asked her to showcase the Egyptian Exhibit in the Domino Museum as well?”

“He did no such thing.”

Ishizu was surprised to hear her own voice answer Ieyasu’s question. She felt all gazes, including Kaiba’s, move towards her.

“Oh really?”

“As the Director of the Egyptian Bureau of Archaeology, I assure you that it is so,” she replied, voice held firm. “We deal directly with the museum curator, who, in this case, was Himoroshi Yokio. In no way are we affiliated with the Kaiba Corporation.”

“Tell me, Ieyasu, where exactly did you receive information about this supposed 3.1 percent financial decline?” Kaiba asked, receiving a sideways glance from Ishizu at his spontaneity.

“The daily newspaper, of course,” was the matter-of-fact response.

“Article name?”

“‘Domino: Financially Stable or Dangerously Fickle?’”

“…”

“…”

“Author?”

“Kamahito Ebisu.”

An amused pause, “And let me guess, that issue came out on October 8th. Kanro, wasn’t it?”

“…How did you know?”

“Better question, who didn’t know? Obviously you, Ieyasu,” Kaiba remarked, absentmindedly answering his own question.

“A week later, Kamahito Ebisu was fired because of a critical mistake he made when printing the article.”

“And that was…?”

“Apparently, he made the careless mistake of not thoroughly proofreading his article. You see, he forgot to move the decimal one place to the left…so that means the damage isn’t nearly as severe, considering you were off by 2.79 percent.” Kaiba inserted a triumphant smirk over Ieyasu’s indignant sputters and the audience’s applause.

“Then again, negligence is a specialty of yours, isn’t it?”

A balcony, her sanctuary.

Ishizu pushed open the door and stepped outside, the night air blanketing around her. She stepped towards the railing, admiring the utter simplicity of the scenic view. Perhaps climbing three flights of stairs hadn’t been a total waste…not if they led to something as beautiful as this.

Exhaling a deep breath, she thought back to the meeting…if it could even be called one. A meeting as well as a party, who knew such a thing ever existed. In Domino, however, it was apparently the “norm.” As for her, it seemed more like a festive interpretation of World War II.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Ishizu.”

She turned to see Kaiba standing in the doorway. He slid the door shut and took a few steps forward, undoing a single button to relax the collars of his shirt. The moonlight showed full on his pale skin.

“Neither did I, Kaiba Seto.”

“Oh?” He raised a slender eyebrow at her response, “So that necklace of yours failed to foretell my arrival? I don’t know whether to feel offended or victorious.” A smirk traced his lips as his eyes lingered on her Tauk.

She turned her gaze towards the balcony.

“Nothing of the such. I simply imagined that instead of attending such petty business meetings, you would be spending your time attempting to rationalize the fact that your predecessor was once high priest to your greatest rival.”

“Touché.”

Following the sound of rustling of cloth, Ishizu turned to see Kaiba at her side. She glanced back to where he had once stood, marveling at both his speed and stealth. To move so quickly and in such silence…it was as if he had glided along the floor itself.

As Ishizu turned back, she caught Kaiba’s amused gaze. He leaned back against the railing, one hand casually resting in the pocket of his overcoat while the other gripped a glass of red wine.

“You seem tense.” He held up the glass of wine to her, silently offering it to her. She pursed her lips disapprovingly.

“I don’t drink.”

“Is that so?”

He set down the glass of wine on a nearby table without further remarks, the burgundy swirling almost haphazardly around the glass that held it. He watched it for a moment, his cobalt eyes following every movement of the liquid, seemingly lost in the reverie of his own thoughts.

She heard a soft sigh escape him as he turned around, this time facing the railing instead of leaning against it. His hands gripped the handrail, inches away from her own. She closed her eyes. Yes, she was tense…and he wasn’t helping the situation either. Not by a long shot.

“A lovely night, isn’t it?”

Ishizu was startled by the unusual softness in his voice. Was the infamous Ice Prince actually admiring the view? She gently cleared her throat before answering.

“Yes, it is. The moonlight is absolutely gorgeous.”

“…”

A thoughtful pause.

When he finally did choose to speak, his voice was gentle and barely above that of a whisper.

“‘The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.’”

“‘The Highwayman’ by Alfred Noyes,” came her immediate reply. Ishizu turned to look at him for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night.

“You, a reader of poetry?”

“I was given a comprehensive study of English literature by order of my step-father.” His tone grew bitter as he finished his sentence, fingers painfully clenching the railing. Ishizu’s face softened sympathetically. His eyes flickered over to her fleetingly before he drew in a breath, regaining his composure once more.

“Alfred Noyes has always been my favorite poet—”

He turned, letting their gazes meet.

“—and this, my favorite poem.”

An abrupt wind rushed through the sky, fluttering through the leaves of the trees. Ishizu folded her arms over her chest in an attempt to shield herself from the wind. Kaiba merely stared ahead, the wind whipping back his auburn hair, his overcoat billowing like a cape. How tall and lean he looked wearing all black, the moonlight elegantly complimenting his fair skin.

“A beautiful tragedy, wasn’t it?” Kaiba asked suddenly, “Love and sacrifice. Sacrifice and love. They go hand in hand.” He stopped, but only for a moment.

“It’s astonishing the sacrifices people will make for those they love, and how love can truly be everlasting.”

Kaiba left her side as he finished, the heels of his shoes gently tapping against the paved cement. Ishizu kept her silence as she reflected on his sudden change of attitude.

Was this the same man who had mockingly brushed away her view on destiny so many times in the past? Was this the same man who had stubbornly refused to believe that they shared a past that dated back three millennia? Was this the same man who, up until now, had barely talked to her about his personal life, much less his philosophical views on poetry? Was this the same man who she had come to know and loathe?

Her eyes fell across to the glass of wine he had set down just minutes ago.

Maybe…

“‘He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.’”

As Kaiba recounted the next stanza in the same mellifluous tone as before, he broke off a single burgundy rose that had snaked up from the wooden lattice. Ishizu watched as he ran his fingers down its stem, gracefully breaking each of its tiny pointed thorns as he did so. One by one, he let the detached thorns fall onto the floor, like pebbles into a stream.

Ishizu couldn’t help but notice how genuinely peaceful he looked. Though the shadows of the night hazed her view, she could distinguish the faintest trace of a smile at his lips as he stared at the flawless form of the rose he held in his hands.

Kaiba looked up unexpectedly, as if shaken from his thoughts. Rose still in hand, he walked towards her, three long strides taking him to her side. She stared at him incredulously, shocked at his sudden nearness.

Being this close to him, she was aware of everything about him, from the soft silk of his shirt to his radiant scent of woods and musk.

“…Kaiba Seto…”

Her voice faltered. Ishizu swallowed, desperately struggling to find her voice as it failed her completely. He grinned, the white of his perfect teeth gleaming back at her.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

Without letting her answer, he twined the rose into her hair, placing it at her ear. She stood unmoving, feeling his cool fingertips brush against her cheek here and there as he arranged it.

“‘Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.’”

Kaiba’s eyes never left hers—not even for a moment—as he recited the third verse of the poem. His face softened as he finished, slowly running his slender fingers through her raven hair.

“‘Bess, the landlord's daughter,’” he whispered, “‘Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.’”

It was then that Ishizu realized the metaphorical significance of the rose Kaiba had placed into her hair. She nearly gasped as she put two-and-two together. The rose…it had been dark red rose…just like in the poem…

“Utsukushii. You look beautiful.”

Kaiba’s voice broke Ishizu out of her sudden reverie. She looked up, only to see him staring down at her. His eyes were glazed over in an almost dream-like trance while a subtle smile lined his lips—one not fazed by the darkening shadows, but only enhanced by the moonlight. A true smile.

Ishizu quickly pushed herself away in a desperate attempt to put some distance between them. Avoiding any eye contact with him, she cast her eyes down onto the floor as she brushed past him, hurrying towards the door.

It was the wine. It had to be. There was no other explanation for how he was acting. Why else would he be quoting verses from a twentieth century ballad and acting so…so out of character?

Ishizu brought up a hand and removed the rose at her ear, still feeling the touch of his fingers through her hair. She dared not look back at him, not after how uncomfortable he had made her feel. So uncomfortable, in fact, that she was lost for words, not to mention rationalization. She grasped the door hinge as she reached it, fearing she’d fall if she let go.

For the first time in years she, Ishizu Ishtar, was fully intimidated.

And that was when she felt it.

A pale hand closed around her wrist. She stood still for a moment, heart racing. Slowly but surely though, she turned around, seeing none other than Kaiba standing in front of her. His expression was unreadable, as if it had been covered by some sort of an invisible veil; a poker face, for lack of a better word. An uneasy silence drifted between them—only to be broken by Kaiba.

“‘One kiss, my bonny sweetheart…’”

Had he finished quoting the line of poetry, she did not know; for at that very moment she was pulled forward, an arm lacing around her waist as a pair of lips locked with her own.

“…”

Silence.

She said nothing. She did nothing. Even her thoughts seemed to be muddled and completely incomprehensible. All she could do was wait—wait and listen to the words that dared to run through her mind…

His free hand grasped her own and slowly interlocked their fingers together, the rose she had once clutched now trapped between the palms of their hands. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly pulled away, gently tugging the rose out of her hand as he did so.

Mahogany bangs fell over azure oculars so she couldn’t get a good look at his expression. Kaiba lifted the rose to his face, breathing in its sweet scent before weaving it back into her obsidian tresses. Finishing, he leaned forward.

“Leave it.”

His warm breath tickled the side of her neck. Drawing back, Kaiba paused to look at her. Ishizu caught a glimpse of his eyes from beneath the auburn locks of his hair. Eyes infused with the utmost degree of warmth and passion stared back at her. This wasn’t the gaze of a man who was under the influence of alcohol—no, it couldn’t have been the wine at all. His eyes were clear, windows to his heart that revealed each and every one of his emotions.

Kaiba whisked the bangs back over his eyes in a flash, lips curling at the edges as he donned his all too familiar condescending persona. He slid his hand off her waist almost reluctantly, turning away with a graceful twirl of his heel.

Ishizu watched as he made his departure. His scent still lingered in the air around her, the kiss still fresh on her lips. Kaiba stopped as he reached the door that led back inside. He stared at the door, eyes distant, not truly focusing on it.

“‘Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way.’”

Kaiba opened the door with a single fluid motion of his hand. He raised his hand before stepping inside, waving her a brief valediction with his index and middle fingers.

“Until we meet again. Farewell, Ishizu.”

And with that, he disappeared.

Ishizu stood still, gazing at the spot where he had once stood. The wind stirred once more, entwining itself into her raven tresses. Unlike before, she did nothing to protect herself from its chilling draft.

She didn’t need to. She already felt warm.

Lifting her gaze to the moon that shined down upon her, Ishizu brushed her fingers against the Tauk at her neck.

Maybe this was one thing she wouldn’t mention to Malik.