AlexJai: OH MY GOODNESS! This is the last chapter! Most of you were quite surprised at what happened in the last chapter . . . well, the beginning part had to come in some time right? Well, enjoy this last chapter to a possibly memorable story and don't forget to REVIEW!

Also, at the end I have a sneak preview of what my next fanfiction will be!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh . . .


Last Chapter: The Reunion

Five months had passed.

Life went on the same as before I met Yami . . . well, kind of.

There were occasions where I felt a strong sense of desolation and I would have to leave the mansion, away from everything and everyone. I would walk around for hours trying to clear my mind. Most of the time, I would roam the park, hoping that maybe he had possibly come back and would be sitting in one of the benches.

He'd be engrossed in a book, but sense my presence and look up at me with a smile . . .

I'd imagine different ways of him professing his returning love for me. And as my heart still called out for him, I'd gladly accept. I wouldn't turn him down or indifferently push him away – not like he did to me.

That's how I came to be here today . . . I was at work when the grief struck me. My meetings for the remainder of the day were cancelled and I headed straight for this park.

To my luck, it relentlessly began to shower down heavy drops. I didn't bring an umbrella so I strolled around in the pouring rain, not caring how drenched I would become . . .

When I focused on my surroundings, I realized I had stopped at the fountain with two cranes dancing. There was currently no water flowing out of their graceful beaks, only making everything seem more incomplete.

I looked over at the familiar bench, a pang of anguish shooting through me. I went and sat down on the thoroughly damp bench.

My elbows rested on my knees and I placed my forehead in my hands. The rueful rain perpetually beat upon my back.

During these times, I always avoided reminiscing, so it was strange that today of all days my mind kept replaying my memories of him . . . my memories of those months with him . . .

I felt an unpleasant stinging in my eyes and before I realized it, a few tears escaped from them.

It had been almost twenty years since I last shed a tear. It felt so . . . strange.

More tears came, only to blend with the downpour that drowned me.

All the emotions that I kept bottled up these several months seemed to come rushing out. I couldn't stop the flow of tears. The feeling of misery was just too overwhelming.

A tight feeling formed in my chest as I sat there, in the rain . . . weeping.

"Kaiba?" a distant voice sounded in my ears through the rhythm of the pounding rain.

I slowly looked up to see who it was.

The most captivating colored eyes were filled with concern and astonishment. My heart began to race as a warm, pleasant sensationburst into every inch of me.


My voice sounded so foreign as it cracked with disbelief. Was this real? Was he really standing in front of me after months of hoping, wishing?

All I could do was stare confounded, as he gazed back at me.

Yami was the first to move as he approached me. He sat beside me, moving his umbrella to shield the both of us from the numbing precipitation.

We sat there . . . a revivedair of familiarity resting between us.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't.

Finally Yami spoke, his voice breaking through the melodious rain. "My apartment is nearby. Why don't you come over and dry off?"

Hearing this, I turned a searching gaze towards him. He softly smiled at me, true sincerity in his inviting amethyst eyes.

Yami stood up and I followed suit. We began to walk, step in step. He had to raise the umbrella a little higher because of my tall form. That's when I reached out and took the umbrella from him, our hands slightly grazing each other. A gratifying jolt shocked through me and I thought back to our first chess game.

My mind was overwrought with so many questions . . . yet, we walked the whole way in silence, knowing we would ask and answer later.

A rather old building ascended above us. I followed Yami inside of it. Paint was chipping off the walls and a moldy musk entered my nose. So this was where he lived?

As we climbed the aged, wooden stairs, our footsteps would create a loud creak.

On the third floor, I followed Yami down a long narrow hallway. He stopped in front of a door that had the polished numbers 315.

After unlocking the door, Yami stepped inside. It was dark for a second, but the light was switched on.

The room before me had a normal beige couch and a forest green recliner. A wooden coffee table had papers spread across it. A reasonably sized TV was decorated with several framed pictures on top. I took off my shoes, and the cream carpet felt pliant as I walked further into his apartment.

To my right was a small kitchen that was open to the living room. Three padded chairs enclosed a cozy dining table.

I inhaled a fresh aroma that covered any musk.

Everything about this place was . . . welcoming.

"My bedroom's over there," Yami interrupted my admiring, pointing to a door across the room. "I'll give you a dry set of clothes that you can change into."

Still wondering if this was all a part of my cruel imagination, I followed him into the bedroom. When I entered it, my eyes surveyed the room in marvel. The bed was simple with a plush, dark blue comforter and crisp, white sheets beneath. A black protruding armoire stood in the corner with a floor-length mirror beside it. The walls were ordinary with tan basing. Each individual item in the room was quite different from the others, yet together they seemed to harmonize.

"Here, these should fit you," Yami said, tossing a pair of black sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt on the bed. Then he set a couple folded towels next to the clothes and walked over to the door. In the doorframe he halted and looked over his shoulder at me. "It's good to see you."

He shut the door behind him and I stood there staring at it, too many emotions swirling within me.

No matter how many times I had desired to see him again, I only thought of them as mere wishes . . . but this, right now . . . I quickly shook out the impossible hopes that Yami would return my feelings . . . my feelings that seemed to grow stronger with each second that passed.

But then I thought of what happened in New York . . . Yami had clearly refused him.

This whole thing was just a cordial update between us.We would discuss whatwe have been up to for the past several months and even reveal plans for the future. It was all just a friendly matter . . .

I finished getting dressed into the clothes that hadveritably fit me. When I opened the door and walked out, I saw Yami standing there with a tray in his hands. On the tray was a kettle and two mugs.

"Tea?" I questioned.

Yami shook his head, an amused smile. "Hot chocolate."

Yami went over to the couch and set the tray on top the coffee table. I followed and considered sitting at the lone recliner, but decided on sitting on the couch, a little apart from Yami.

He handed me a filled mug and I took a small sip. The hot chocolate traveled down my throat, soothing my whole body.

"So you kept your company," Yami commented after taking a drink from his own mug.

Yep . . . a friendly matter.

"Yeah, I'm still prospering as usual," I said, with another sip as Yami chortled at my comment. "How's your business doing in New York?"

Yami smiled fondly. "It's doing much better than I expected. I've been getting a lot of business, so I've been really busy. I try once a month to come back here to check up on things."

"So lots of perfect matches then," I lightly mocked.

Yami sighed. "Yeah."

A silence fell over us.

The burning urge to ask what I had wanted to ask all these months soon became too much.

"Why?" I asked, causing Yami to look at me quizzically. "Why was I the only one that felt something between us?"

Yami's face faltered and he set his mug back on the tray. He refused to meet my gaze as he tried to think of an answer.

"You weren't," he admitted quietly. Now I was the one with the quizzical look. "You weren't the only one that felt something."

I sat there, staring at him unsure if I heard him correctly.

Yami began to explain, still looking downwards at the hands in his lap. "Kaiba, I always thought of you either in amusement or annoyance. I would think of how you got that haughty look on your face when we bickered," Yami paused at this word and a small smile came onto his face.

"But then my thoughts began to turn to how your eyes changed shades depending on your mood, and how each blue was as alluring as the one before. And I thought of how you licked your lips when you were explaining things, and how I wanted to feel them pressed against mine."

A graceful blush swooned across Yami's fair cheeks. My eyes slightly widened at this. Was this all really true?

"The morning when you were in just a towel, illicit ideas kept surfacing about how I wished to run my hands over every inch of your skin." At this comment I also felt myself blush. "Then in the dressing room, I did want to kiss you. I thought about it every night, and felt so satisfied when we did finally kiss. Then I had the strongest urge to turn the plane around. And I felt so relieved when I saw you in New York. I did feel something Kaiba."

All of his words were being comprehended, as I sat there stunned. If he had all these thoughts and feelings, why did he turn me down? Why did he discard me so easily? I felt anger begin to rise in me.

"Well if you felt something like me, then why did you reject me?" I inquired, my voice bitter.

Silence loomed over us as Yami searched his thoughts of what to say.

"I never told you why I became a matchmaker," Yami began, his face solemn. "When I first got out of college, I met this guy . . . he was amazing – everything I thought I wanted."

Yami had never told me anything about his past before . . .

"Well, we decided to get married. But . . . one week before our wedding I was walking down the street after work and I saw him," Yami's words seemed to get quieter and quieter as he continued. "I was about to run over to him but I noticed he was walking with a man I had never met before. I thought it was one of his friends he hadn't introduced me to yet, but then," Yami paused visibly swallowing a large lump in his throat. "But then Jounouchi and the man kissed. It wasn't a kiss you share between friends – it was . . . well, the kind of kisses he and I had."

I sat there, speechless, disbelieving that someone, this Jounouchi, could do that to Yami.

"That night I confronted him about it." Now Yami's tone was becoming more resentful. "He didn't deny anything. He just told me that he wasn't sure our marriage would work out. Of course I got angry and kicked him out. We broke up, one week before our wedding . . . but then, I saw him several months ago.

I figured that if he left me, his fiancé, that he would actually stay with this other guy. I was wrong though. I saw him in some store shopping with some different guy, and they also kissed," Yami said this vehemently, but then finally looked up at me with earnest eyes. "See Kaiba? That's why I was afraid. I was so afraid. I already had been hurt once, and I didn't want it to happen again. I should've realized how much you genuinely loved me, but . . . I regretted every singlesecond since that day in New York."

All my anger had dissipated, and I felt minor guilt as I had almost done the same thing as that guy did to Yami. But, I actually love the person I left for.

"If you regretted what happened so much, why didn't you call me?" I asked this one question still unanswered.

"Because . . . I thought you hated me."

"Well, I did hate you." I abruptly conceded as his eyes grew in surprise. "I thought if I ever saw you again I would go on a rampage," Iexhaled in affliction."But, that all ended after a week. Since then, well . . . you saw me today."

A few seconds passed.

"So, you still love me?" Yami quietly asked, staring hopefully into my eyes.

I nodded my head without hesitation. "Yes."

Yami gave me a warm smile and softly confessed, "I always told myself not to fall in love with clients. And yet I did. Kaiba, I fell in love with you. I'm still in love with you."

These words seemed to come directly from one of my dreams.

A blissful feeling rushed through my body and I returned his smile. Then I scooted closer to him and leaned down, tenderly touching my lips to his. I felt him lean in further and our lips intertwined in a gentle kiss that expressed our long delayed inclination.

I couldn't remember how we ended up in Yami's room on his bed, since my mind was hazy from the sensitive touches and the ardent kisses.

All I knew for sure was that his eyes misted into a dark violet as I ran my hands down his body, caressing his smooth heated skin. His avid hands clung to my back in ecstasy as we united in passion and love. He was so immaculate as he called out my first name with his angelic voice as we had reached our climax. Everything was so . . . perfect.


My twenty-sixth birthday had come and I was currently brushing my teeth. Tonight Yami was throwing me a party at the mansion.

"Seto?" Yami frantically asked, rushing into the bathroom. "Have you seen my lavender shirt?"

"No," I replied through a mouthful of toothpaste. I spit it out and rinsed my mouth. "Did you check in the laundry?"

"Yes, and the closet, and every drawer, and downstairs. I looked everywhere!" Yami fretted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

I thought for a moment, grabbing the mouthwash. "Did you check under the bed?"

"Why would it be under the bed?"

I opened the cap to the bottle. "Well, because when one is in the throes of passion, they don't tend to think of where they throw their clothes. And one of us might have happened to accidentally kick it under the bed."

Yami gave me an unbelieving frown, but nonetheless hurried out of the bathroom. A few seconds later I heard a pleased gasp. "Found it!"

"Where?" I called, through my gargling.

"Under the bed."


At the party, I walked around greeting guests, holding Yami's hand the whole time.

"Seto! Seto!" I heard an animated voice call. I turned to see Mokuba running up to us, throwing his arms around both our shoulders. "It's good to see you guys!"

When he pulled back, he grinned and said to Yami, "I don't know how you do it. He was too overwhelming for me to baby-sit, so I'm glad he's found a new sitter."

I rolled my eyes as he bounced off.

"Well, you can be overwhelming at times," Yami commented, giving me a suggestive look. I leaned in to give him a chaste kiss.

"Glad to see you two are doing fine," interrupted a voice.

I looked over and saw Nyoko kindly smiling at us.

"Nyoko," I greeted. "How's Takeo?"

"He's fine," she answered. "He said he was sorry he couldn't make it tonight. He had so much extra work at the office."

"It's alright. When are you two getting married?" I questioned, my hand still holding Yami's.

"In three months," she informed, smiling once again.

"Well, make sure to invite us," Yami piped in.

"Of course," Nyoko giggled, then asked Yami, "How's your job?"

"It's good," Yami replied. "In order to make sure my business is doing fine in New York, Seto and I fly out every few weeks for a couple of days."

"That's kind of adventurous," Nyoko commented.

"Not as adventurous as finding a new house," I added. "Yami didn't like the spacious rooms in this mansion so he-"

"We-" Yami corrected.

"So we decided to find a smaller, less efficient-"

"Cozier-" Yami corrected again.

"Cozier house in one of the quiet neighborhoods," I finished.

Nyoko nodded her head in amusement at us. "So . . . you guys getting married?" Nyoko asked, knowingly.

My eyes slightly widened. "Uh . . . we haven't really discussed it fully . . . It's definitely an option . . . I mean-"

"Just invite me when you do," Nyokogrinned and walked away.

"Of course," Yami smiled sweetly, but scowled at me as soon as she left. "Seto, we have talked about it!"

I just smirked at him. "I know . . . I'm just still trying to find the perfect engagement ring."

Yami rolled his eyes. "I told you . . . it doesn't have to be perfect. It's the idea that counts."

"But do you know why I want it to be perfect?" I asked, nuzzling his neck playfully. "You know why?" I repeated.

Yami was still scowling, trying to ignore me as I now kissed his cheek. "Why?"

"Because I have the perfect match," I replied, smooching him on the cheek again.

Yami couldn't resist my antics any longer and turned his head to me. We gently kissed.

When we pulled away, Yami searched into my eyes as if looking for something, then smiled when he found it, "Yeah . . . the perfect match."


THE END - of a hopefully great fic that brought you some moments of entertainment and warm fuzzies.

WOW! This is it. It's officially over. I feel sad but also relieved. This fic was stressful to write, but your reviews and love for it kept me going. I just want to thank everyone who took the time to read my first fanfiction. As always, REVIEW . . . I mean, this was the last chapter! I need to know what you thought!

Cheers to the end!



The next fic I am going to write is very different from Perfect Match in the storyline and tone. It still has the usual bickering between Kaiba and Yami though.

Kaiba: An inventor who just wants to perfect the hologram.

Yami: A secret agent who has to protect Kaiba.


Suddenly a black car pulled up next to him. Kaiba didn't know where the hell that came from either, but it didn't matter as two, bulky men stepped out and grabbed him.

"Let go!" Kaiba shouted, struggling uselessly.

The two men threw him into the vehicle and entered after him. Kaiba desperately tried to open the other door, but only fumbled for the handle, as he couldn't see in the darkness.

"Stay still, or this will hurt."

Kaiba felt an unyielding hand squeeze his arm, and his sleeve was pulled up. A sharp pain stung his arm and he shortly began to feel light-headed.

What had he gotten himself into?


Coming Soon so look for it!