Souvenir

Disclaimer: Just own the words, not the folks.

Every Year

“Where are we going?” I ask Raphael as we walk up to his car.

“Somewhere no one knows me. I don’t want to be seen in public with you,” he snaps.

I simply nod in acknowledgement before climbing into the passenger side and buckling up.

After 20 minutes of driving, we finally pull to a stop at a small restaurant on an empty side street.

“C’mon. I’m sure you haven’t had anything to eat yet, so we’ll talk and eat,” he commands, exiting the car and heading inside.

I wait until we’ve settled into our seats and the tea has been served before speaking again.

“I didn’t always live on the streets,” I state.

“Right,” he scoffs, raising his cup to his lips. “You’re really rich and grew up in a mansion.”

I know he meant it to mock me, but...

“Yes,” I confirm.

He chokes on his sip of tea.

“What?”

“My name isn’t Seto Koizomi. It’s Seto Kaiba,” I disclose.

His eyes widen in shock before narrowing in suspicion.

“Of course it is. Is that the big secret that Yami was trying to keep from me? That you’re an accomplished liar? If Gozaboro Kaiba was your father, you’re certainly doing a fine job of living up to his name,” he sneers.

“Stepfather,” I correct looking away, hoping that the flood of memories invoked by my confession don’t overwhelm me. “That man was my stepfather. His blood only runs through Mokuba’s veins, not mine.”

“And if you are his kid, aren’t you supposed to be in boarding school?” he continues, skeptically. “And shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, rich instead of selling yourself to the highest bidder?”

“We – I don’t want his money,” I force.

“How convenient,” he taunts. But you didn’t answer me about the boarding school. Is it because you don’t have an answer?”

“We were never in boarding school. That’s the lie they told to keep the truth out of the news that we’d run away,” I explain.

“Right; you ran away. You have an answer for everything, don’t you? Why would anyone leave such wealth to live on the street? How stupid do you think I am?” he scoffs.

“I wouldn’t have left if it had only been me,” I divulge, my breath catching as I try to banish the feelings tumbling into me with the memories. “I’d endured for almost five years. I would have made it until I could leave him. But when he started with Mokuba…”

“Wh-What?” Raphael stammers. “What are you talking about?”

“The first time he touched me I was nine and my mother had just died,” I choke, staring at the table in front of me. “He came to my room several times a week; sometimes every night. But I’d gotten used to it. Even though I hated it, I’d come to expect it and thought that I could endure until I was old enough to leave. But then...”

I close my eyes as that memory assaults me again.

My stepfather’s voice crooning in comfort as he forced himself into my brother’s small body; Mokuba crying and trying to fight him off; that sick smile of satisfaction from Gozaboro at completing the vile act...

I don’t even remember standing, let alone how I got to the side of the building when I find myself heaving up everything I’ve had for probably the last two days. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and stay there leaning against the building for a few minutes as I try to get my self under control.

Suddenly, Raphael’s large hands enter my field of vision holding what looks to be several tissues and a wet cloth napkin.

“Th-thank you,” I manage, grasping both. I use the tissues to blow my nose and the napkin to wipe my face and the sleeve where I wiped the vomit from my lips.

“Can you stand?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” I grate, using the wall to pull myself up. “I-I’m sorry. That memory…”

I close my eyes and try to fight down a second wave of bile.

“Maybe I should get you home,” Raphael’s voice intrudes, breaking the memory cycle for the moment.

“No, just take me back to the store. I have a cot there,” I murmur, heading back into the restaurant for my shoes and maybe a glass of water to rinse my mouth.

“So, you were serious about leaving Yami?” he presses.

“Yes,” I affirm.

After gathering my shoes, I get directions to the bathroom where I splash water on my face and rinse my mouth. Raphael’s waiting by the door when I come out.

“I still don’t believe that you’re Kaiba’s kid,” he declares as we pull away. “But I do believe you’ve suffered some sort of childhood trauma.”

“I thought you might not believe me, but I wanted to tell you the truth anyway,” I respond. “It will make it easier for you to comfort Yami if you know everything.”

“Do you realize how stupid you sound?” he cuts his eyes at me. “You’re going to break Yami’s heart and then expect that he’ll be happy because I start coming around again? What are you, 12?”

“This is all I can do,” I confide to the man who is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real enemy. “Yami’s miserable. My presence isn’t helping him. If I weren’t around, you would still be speaking to him.”

We stop at a light and I can feel him staring at me.

“I owe him my life,” I add quietly.

“How old are you?” he presses as we pull off again.

“I turned 18 last week,” I sigh, certain that he’s going to berate me for that too.

A long silence passes before he mumbles, “Shit! You really are just a kid, aren’t you?”

“I’m not. I haven’t been a kid since I was nine,” I insist.

We ride in silence for another few miles before he speaks again.

“You can’t leave Yami,” he declares.

I turn to face him, staring incredulously at his profile. He can’t be asking me to go back to Yami and watch him miserably ramble around the house and hotel.

“I’ve never seen Yami fight so hard for anything except being a pastry chef. And never for any person,” he expounds glancing at me.

“What do you mean?”

“I suppose I’m also a little jealous that he chose you over our friendship,” he continues, seemingly ignoring my question.

“He didn’t,” I correct. “He was just defending me because he’s a good man.”

“He did,” Raphael states. “He’s never done so before. And you’re right; he is a good man. Unfortunately, that trait has left him open to a lot of crap from various sources. In the past, I’ve always managed to make him see the clouds beneath the temporary ‘silver lining.’ I considered you one of the clouds. Still do. But if Yami is fighting so hard for you...”

“If your ability to spot crap is so great, then what about Otogi,” I press, not sure I want to know so much as I want to point out that he doesn’t know everything.

“Otogi…” he trails off with a grimace. “Unfortunately, Otogi pulled the wool over both our eyes. By the time I figured out what was going on, I knew that I could only hurt Yami with the news. I didn’t want to slip up like that again with you.”

“I’m not Otogi,” I assert.

“I know…” he trails off again, remaining silent a few minutes before turning to me with a furrowed brow when we reach another stop light.

“I know that you’re not Otogi,” he imparts before having to turn away again and drive. You’re much worse in a way, because Yami has well and truly fallen for you; fallen hard enough to lock me out of his life. He never locked me out when he was with Otogi. And he certainly never acted to keep any of the man’s secrets. As distraught as Yami was after Otogi, I knew he’d eventually be okay. But with you, I worry that he would never recover from the loss. And I’m even more certain after the last time I talked to him.”

I keep silent for the rest of our trip, digesting all that Raphael has divulged. So complete is my distraction that I don’t realize that we’ve pulled up at Yami’s house until he turns off the car.

“What are we doing here?” I demand. “I told you to drop me off at the store!”

“I told you earlier,” he replies calmly. “You can’t leave him.”

“But – ”

“Not only is it a stupid idea, but it would only upset Yami even more. And I don’t think I’d be able to help him this time,” he interjects.

“You don’t understand,” I begin before being cut off again.

“What were you going to tell him that wouldn’t have him turning over every stone to find you once you disappeared? That you went back home?”

“I’d planned to tell him that I went to visit my brother,” I explain.

“Didn’t you say that he lived in Egypt? Do you honestly think Yami is stupid enough to believe that you have the money to fly there?” he scolds.

“I...um...” I have no good reply for that question as the same thought had plagued me earlier.

Our conversation is cut short by Yami opening his front door and hurrying toward the car. A look of shock crosses his face as he sees me in the passenger seat.

“Raph, Seto...what...?” A stark confusion settles on his face.

“I saw him outside the hotel and we went for a drive to talk things out,” Raphael offers as he exits the car.

Yami’s surprised gaze lands on me next as I climb out behind him.

“Why don’t we talk inside Yami,” I suggest.

He nods his head and takes my hand.

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Once inside, I excuse myself to rinse my mouth properly and change out of the shirt that smells slightly of vomit. My plan changes to include a quick shower when I remember that I’m sweaty both from work and getting sick. After drying off, I put on a pair of loose fitting jeans and a t-shirt.

I’d initially thought to keep Yami in the dark about my moving out until I was ready to tell him by leaving my room in its normal state. That meant leaving most of my clothes in the closet and the dresser as well as various other items of mine scattered around. I even left my framed picture of me and Mokuba from when he visited with the Ishtars. I needed to make sure that Yami couldn’t figure out my plans by simply looking in my room.

I listen intently as I head downstairs, hoping not to hear Yami and Raphael fighting again. I’m pleasantly surprised to find them talking quietly in the kitchen, though the somber tone of their conversation tells me that all still isn’t well between them.

Yami looks up at me when I step through the doorway, his eyes swirling with emotion.

“So, you were leaving me,” he rasps.

Shocked and angry, I glare accusingly at Raphael.

“He didn’t tell me,” Yami interjects. “I found your plan and checklist on the floor under your desk this morning.”

My eyes widen in comprehension that I hadn’t thrown it away as I’d planned before we left for the hotel.

“Yami...” I start to explain, but he continues talking.

“Raphael tells me that you went to him to tell him your true identity and that you’d already moved out. Were you even going to say good-bye? Or were you going to continue to lie to me about ‘taking inventory’ at work?” he exclaims.

“You were miserable!” I yell, the pain in his voice more than I can stand. “And my being here didn’t make a difference! You needed Raphael and he wouldn’t come back if I stayed here. Getting your friend back was the only way I could repay you for all you’ve done for me. I have nothing else to offer you.”

He’s silent for a few moments before he gets up from the kitchen table and approaches me.

Pulling my head down, his lips meet mine in a light kiss that he deepens almost immediately. Glad that he’s still willing to touch me, I slide my arms around his back and respond eagerly. He pulls away after several moments and frowns dejectedly at me.

“It’s always been about payment with you hasn’t it, Seto?” he intones sadly, a note of accusation to his voice. “I knew, but I didn’t want to believe that all I meant to you was another debt in your life to be repaid.”

“It’s not like that, Yami,” I assure, reaching for him as he steps farther away.

“I realize that I’m an emotional coward, Seto,” he continues, moving to lean against the stove. “And that I don’t really like people. But with you, I wanted to try opening up more; letting someone in my heart again. Other than Raphael, I’ve kept everyone in my life at arms length. Even Otogi. Yes, I loved him, but I never really trusted him. So he never did get inside my heart.”

“What are you talking about, Yami?” Raphael interrupts. For a split second, I’d honestly forgotten he was still here. “You were devastated after he betrayed you!”

Closing his eyes a moment, Yami turns to Raphael with a sigh.

“I wasn’t,” he confesses, Raphael’s eyes reflecting shock at his statement. “I was terribly hurt, yes; but I was angrier at myself for allowing him to get that close in the first place than I was devastated by his actions.”

“Yami...you...” Raphael stammers.

“I needed your friendship, Raph. And when you became even more over-protective than usual, I basked in the attention. It kept me from losing myself to the anger and falling even further behind in my training as a pastry chef,” he expounds.

“You should have told me, Yami,” Raphael snarls. “I’m not your personal pit bull who hangs around just to chase people away.”

“You are,” Yami states evenly. “You’ve always been my protector. And I’ve always appreciated it and needed it. But with Seto...”

He turns to me after trailing off.

“Like I told you, Seto, I’ve never been seriously interested in anyone before. And now to know that it’s all been about payment of a debt to you...”

“It’s not, Yami,” I break in.

“I knew you were too young, too damaged by what happened with your stepfather...” he continues; his eyes full of apologies and pain before he looks away. “I should never have touched you, never fallen for you. Maybe you should move out, because if you stay here, I...”

He turns away from both of us and I realize that leaving him is the last thing I want to do. With or without Raphael in his life, I’ll do whatever I must to make sure that Yami is happy.

Moving swiftly, I wrap my arms around Yami’s trembling form.

“Being with you is not a debt to repay,” I whisper into his hair. “And I’m not moving out.”

“Seto...” he chokes.

“I want you to take me, Yami,” I nuzzle against the back of his neck, the sudden desire to be claimed by him nearly overwhelming in its intensity.

A moment later Yami’s arms are twined around my neck and we’re kissing with wild abandon.

“So I guess you don’t need a ride back to the store,” Raphael intrudes, his tone almost supportive.

Yami and I pull back from each other, but not actually apart.

“Raph...” Yami trails off.

“Thank you for the ride home,” I interject when Yami doesn’t say anything more after a few moments.

“Whatever,” he waves, heading out of the kitchen. “I’m going home.”

Leaning up for a light kiss, Yami moves away from me to follow Raphael. I follow them both to the front room.

“Raph, wait,” Yami calls.

Turning, he stares at me a few moments before offering Yami a cool expression.

“I’m still not helping you, Yami,” he states evenly, causing Yami to step back in surprise.

“But maybe I won’t have to.”

“You won’t,” I impart, understanding his meaning.

“So what now, Raph?” Yami prods warily.

“Now, I go home. Tomorrow, we go grocery shopping,” he replies.

I’m more than grateful to see the smile that lights up Yami’s face.

After hugging Raphael goodnight and eliciting a promise from him not to come by too early, he offers that matchless smile of his to me. An instant later he’s upon me and we’re groping and kissing as though Raphael never interrupted us.

Several minutes later, our zeal to be with each other hinders our progress up the stairs and down the hall to Yami’s room. Along the way we strip each other almost desperately, falling into his bed completely nude.

“Yami...” I gasp as two well-lubricated fingers enter me in the midst of Yami’s oral pleasure.

Though it’s obviously not my first time, he knows that it’s been a while since I’ve been penetrated and takes his time preparing me.

“Yami...” I call to him again, finally more than ready for him to continue.

As he spreads my legs and slides himself against my well prepared entrance, he kisses me once more, dominating me with lips and tongue. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him to hurry as he slips inside me.

“Yami...” I moan against his lips at his first solid thrust.

I’ve wanted this for so long, wanted him to take me; knew that it would be unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

The reality is so much better than all of my imaginings.

The pace he sets for us is steady and strong and I find myself rapidly careening toward my first pleasurable orgasm from intercourse. I cling to Yami’s quaking form, gasping for air as the beginning of his climax rolls into the end of mine.

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“Seto!” I hear him yelling behind me.

He’s angry because I defied him and ran away with Mokuba. And now that Mokuba’s safe, I just need to keep him away from me.

I run down the dark hallway and into the first room I come to, diving behind the huge armchair in the corner by the bed. Clenching my eyes shut, I try not to think about the bed nearby and what will happen if he finds me again.

I can’t let him find me. He’ll want to...and I can’t let him. Yami is the only one who...I can’t let him!

“Seto!” he bellows again from the doorway.

I cringe at the sound of his voice and try to press myself into an even smaller ball behind the chair. It’s only as he’s pulling me up from the floor that I remember that I’m too big now to hide in such a small space.

“No! Let me go!” I scream as he begins tearing off my clothes.

He merely laughs, subduing me easily.

“No! Not you! Only Yami! Only Yami!” I yell, fighting him desperately.

Even as I wake up still screaming, I’m not sure that I’ve escaped him.

“Shhh. Seto,” Yami’s voice frees me from the clutches of the unexpected nightmare.

The pure bliss of falling asleep in Yami’s arms after a second round of lovemaking somehow morphed into the nightmare that I’d only been able to save Mokuba and not myself. I shudder at the thought of being at Gozaboro’s mercy again.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, Seto,” Yami soothes as I bury my face in his chest. “He’s dead.”

“Dead,” I repeat in a whisper, reminding myself.

He tilts my face up to his and kisses me lightly, love and determination shining in his eyes.

“I’m here now, Seto. And I’ll protect you from his memory,” Yami promises.

Believing that he will do as he says, I nuzzle my face into his chest and allow myself to drift back off to sleep.