Full summary: Seto and Mokuba Kaiba have lived without their real parents for as long as the younger of the two can remember. They have never needed anyone but each other, not since their stepfather died. But Seto still remembers the past, albeit hazily at parts. When a strange woman shows up in his office making an outrageous claim, will Seto let the past get in the way? And when the only one he has ever cared about goes missing, can he learn to trust a "stranger?"

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu Gi Oh!, or any of the characters from said television program/manga series.

The newsstand was crowded – very crowded. People from all over Domino City surrounded it. Excitement buzzed in the air, and shouts rang out as each individual fought to grab the next copy of the paper the stand was selling.

The cause of the commotion was something fairly minor, as major news events go. Apparently, Kaiba Corporation had recently released its latest product, and every duelist in the city wanted to hear about it.

With so many people attempting to force their way to the front of the mass of enthusiasts, it was inevitable that a fight would break out. One young man grabbed a paper out of another's hands. A tug-of-war ensued. The newspaper was, of course, unable to hold under the strain they put it under; it ripped, scattering pieces of paper in all directions.

Most of the articles were snatched out of the air, but one, caught by a sudden gust of wind, escaped such a fate. It was carried up, high over the heads of the crowd. Several jumped up in a desperate attempt to catch it, to keep it from its freedom, but they were too late. The lone article raced over their heads, and, carried by the wind, flew on to a destination unknown. The mass of people below soon forgot about it; they had more important matters to attend to.

The stray piece of paper was carried half way across the city before slowly beginning its descent. It fluttered down to the ground and, still not fully released from the wind, rustled its way down a side street. Its journey was brought to an abrupt halt as it slammed into the foot of a middle-aged woman. She looked down at it, surprised, then bent down and absentmindedly picked it up.

It would have been clear to any onlooker that she had once been a beautiful woman. She was in her mid- to late-forties, with long, graying brown hair pulled into a ponytail. Stress and lack of sleep had drawn wrinkles on her face, making her look older than she was. Crystal blue eyes gazed tiredly at the paper in her hands.

But there was no such onlooker. This woman was alone.

Suddenly, her hands clenched at the paper, and her eyes widened in shock. It was not the article that had caught her attention, but rather the picture underneath the bold headline:


Beneath the title was a large picture of a man – no, a boy, really, perhaps seventeen years old. He stared back at her with hard blue eyes, his face cold and nonchalant. Short, brown hair of an identical shade to her own - minus the graying parts, of course - arced down and partially covered one eye. His lips were twitched up in a small, arrogant smile, perhaps more accurately described as a smirk. Though time had aged him from a child to the young man in this picture, it was a face that the woman still remembered.

"Seto?" She clutched at her heart, disbelief in her voice. "Seto?"

She stared at the photograph for a long moment more, then released the paper to float once again on the wind.