Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-oh, I believe Kazuki Takahashi does? I am not trying to steal it:)
Note from the author: I've always been a fictional fan of Seto and Tea. The way the characters were written for the tv series makes sense in a way, because it was for a younger fan base, once that would not understand much beyond simple, who probably were not interested in any aspects of romance. But I truly believe, had it been written for a larger audience, that those small moments of interaction between Seto and Anzu would have been amplified, and that as they grew and matured they would have had a very profound chemistry. After all, the damaged and secretly well-intentioned orphan CEO who protects his family against all costs and twice saved her life, and the beautiful right hand of his rival? Sounds like an anime dream….Anyways, I see great potential. So here it is, without further adieu, because I believe these two would understand each other in a way others couldn't. Here is a Seto/Anzu for you, chemistry and all, 5 years into the future and whatever could happen may happen. REVIEWS, PLEASE. (warning…this may turn M in later chapters…, we will have to see)
CHAPTER 1: REFLECTIONS
Anzu sipped on a glass of champagne with outward grace and a well-disguised inner reluctance. Dressed in an olive satin dress that hugged her with elegance, classic beading covering her ruched sweetheart strapless neckline, she wished silently to be in another time and place. It had been a long time since she felt the warmth of security and the pangs of familiarity. It had been 5 long years since she had left Domino. 5 years that had changed her beyond what she thought possible. She had been nothing more than a little girl, standing on the sidelines of her own life and watching others fight for their chance at greatness until she was given the opportunity to leave and make her own dreams come true. Dreams she had been secretly terrified of going after in the first place. On the outside, she had been thrilled for a scholarship to go to a dance conservatory that catered to her every craving in the world of movement. On the inside however, the battle of a young, confused teenager had raged like a desert storm. Oh how she had wished that her great opportunities were in a place where she had the comfort of home and even the occasional cordial visit from neglectful parents. How she had wished that she had somebody to hold her hand when she felt down, to trust when she didn't trust in herself, and to possibly even love, because Domino was where they knew her best. And speaking of love, hadn't she secretly hoped that one day, in a cheesy, cliché, FRIENDS kind of way, that just maybe she might see one of the boys (someday) in a slightly different light? That if she stuck around as they grew up and became real men, maybe she could have the kind of love story that little girls in a simple suburban life dream about such as the best friend turned lover or the boy next door turned fiancé? Anzu shook her head in part amusement, part embarrassment at her own past fantasies. Time had cleared her mind, and turned her into a woman instead of a silly teenager, one who looked at the world in a completely different, far less optimistic, more independent way. She knew that she had only been fooling herself so long ago, and the real woman that had grown had given up the search for love, because it was futile. The cold hard truth was that she had never felt the passion or raw sensual chemistry that she knew was the mark of the real deal with any one of those boys, nor would she ever feel it. They were part of an innocent, carefree time in her life when she believed in some unrealistic, rather fluffy tales. Fooling herself was no longer part of the game. Headstrong and completely capable of trusting in only herself, Anzu Mazaki was able to manage her life on her own. A man was no longer a necessity; she no longer yearned for a date on Valentine's Day, or for chocolates and pearls on her birthday. What she wanted was raw and mind-blowing, it was too hard to find, and in lieu of it, she was perfectly content with closing herself off to anything or anyone sub-par. Life was fine and focused without a significant other, and this is how she chose for it to be.
She snapped out of her reverie as she realized the alcoholic beverage in her glass had run dry. There was nothing left for her to sip on as a disguise to her uncomfortable feelings at this gaudy, pretentious event. It was a charity ball, $1000 a ticket, and not worth one damn penny of what had been paid. Luckily, she had received the ticket as a gift, an opportunity to wine and dine with the patrons of society and perhaps make some important connections beyond what Julliard had to offer. Her goal was to woo; the men who ran Manhattan were all here in one provocative, greedy pile and it was up her to impress enough to get an audition here, a sponsor there, maybe even be lucky enough to dazzle the owners of the local ballet and fine arts companies. Yet she felt nothing like the saccharine seductress that she was expected to be. She wasn't bitter by any means, god no. That would be an incorrect assessment. No….lost was more like it. Simply put, this was the fakest place on god's green earth. And here she was, in the middle of it all: Bambi. Waiting to be preyed on as she knew she would be as a green ballerina, looking for opportunity. And all she wanted for the first time since she left was to go back to a place where makeup was inconsequential, and the sway of your hips and the fraudulence of your speech didn't dictate success. What a life she had come from….what a life she was forced to play games in now.
"Stop brooding," she scolded herself gently. "You are going to look like an idiot if you don't go out there and do something." It wasn't honestly like this was the worst situation she could have been in. It was actually more of a family event than many she had been to. This was less the kind of disgusting, filthy, high class mess where old men tried to sleep with her in exchange for a shot at success. This was actually a place in which real patrons of the arts with souls that were still partially intact stood. There were many worse fates for her, and this was the best advantage she would ever have. She could go schmooze with a botox-treated middle-aged woman, appeal quickly to her husband in a wholesome yet dazzling manner, and still retain her dignity and feel unsullied. There were not many events where she could leave not feeling dirty inside for the looks she had been given by the appraising eyes of wealthy men. Pigs, most of them were. Pigs who never got the better of her, not now, and no matter how desperate she was for a job, not ever.
Instantly, she spotted an opportunity that suited her mood. Lady Orrington, oozing class and stature, was sauntering towards the champagne fountain, alone for what would probably be the only time that night. With the empty glass in her hand, she could easily have a small exchange of words while being refilled. Lady Orrington was one of the few women in high society Anzu looked up to. A widow of 30 years, she managed to be the Meryl Streep of Manhattan women. Ever so professional, she never acted with anything but the best of manners. A great patron and director of the arts for a living, owning and actively at the head of many dance and theatre companies, Lady Orrington was far from approachable. She needed some liquid courage and then Lady Orrington was going to hear from the most charming and delicate of personas Anzu Mazaki could summon from within. Knocking back a crystal vial of Belvedere spirits, her one track mind led her to glide effortlessly across the dance floor, her eye tracing the movements of Lady Orrington as she coordinated her movements for a flawless meeting of the two. That was until she, champagne glass, and a crystal vial all collided into what felt like a warm, Egyptian silk, 6 ½ foot tall wall of pure, unyielding steel…..