Stepping Stones

Warning: Shonen-ai, possibly progressing to yaoi (though that'll be only on affnet~). This is an eventual prideship (SetoxYami) but it starts out as puzzle (YamixYuugi).
Disclaimer: YGO is not mine. I've taken a couple of lines from Loveless as well, which does not belong to me either. I make no money of fanficcing these.
Background: Not all bg info is placed out in the open...but the basic idea is that Mokuba Kaiba is dead (killed by Jounouchi) and that Seto has invited Yami and Yuugi to live with him because they cannot afford payments on their old apartment. Yami and Yuugi are lovers at present.
Dedication: To bahen and Shadow, both of whom know exactly how and when to kick me.

You can be reborn, like a chrysalis concealing a butterfly.

Seto, do you remember the summers when we used to go outside every chance we got? I remember. I also remember our last time out. When that last groundskeeper caught us, and started yelling. Those days were stifling. I felt like a caged butterfly. What would you do if a pretty butterfly rested in the palm of your hand? You could use both hands to protect it. Gently. Or you could close you hands into a fist.

A chill settled over Kaiba/ "Does he know you've found him?"

Kura chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Oh, he knows something is following him," the assassin snickered. "Before long, he'll be jumping at ghosts. Amusing, this family. Almost as amusing as you are –"

"Let him go," Kiaba said, cutting Kura off.

"What?"

"I said, 'Let him go,'" Kaiba repeated firmly. "He's not your concern…" The brunet's eyes darkened. "And he's my prize."

The incredulous silence gave way to laughter once more. "Have it your way," Kura crowed. "Fourth and Eight, Kaiba. Happy hunting."

Click.

Kaiba held the phone, just staring at it, thoughtful. So Kura had found the Mutt. A numbness had settled into Kaiba. He felt neither pleasure nor anger at the discover. They was one simple truth: Jounounchi Katsuya had to die. That was all.

Fourth and Eighth. Two streets…parallel, not intersecting. Kaiba frowned as eh set the phone down. Fourth and Eighth…

"Who was that?"

Kaiba turned. A bright-eyed, childish version of Yami stared up at him. Those eyes were unnatural. "It's none of your concern," he replied tersely.

"But I want to know."

A glare worked its way onto Kaiba's face, and he focused on the young man until Yuugi fled. Only once he was gone did Kaiba blink, and reflect on how strange it was, how unnerving, to stare into violet eyes. They stirred a protective, aggressive nature within. Protective…of someone else. Aggressive because of the anguish such a stare brought.

XXX

The unmistakable sound of flesh on flesh echoed in his ears as he neared the prince's chambers. With every step Seth took, he questioned himself and the importance of the admission he wanted to make. With every step, he wondered if excesses had driven him too far, finally. Excesses in indulgence of temper, personality, admiration… The young, naïve core longed for contact with the prince. Seth's harder, more weathered exterior understood the futility. He turned the corner, part of him ready to share only Atemu's father's summons, the other part waiting to ask Atemu for something more.

He froze when the signt of two bodies entwined greeted his eyes. Atemu…

In silent denial, Seth stared, watching the small child laying claim to the prince. Any momen, Seth knew Atemu would turn, cast the pale child away…

A small cry of triumph escaped the boy's lips, followed by a stifled, choked sound. Seth realized that had come from his own lips. Atemu's red eyes, red as the sunset over the Nile, looked up, and guilt stirred there.

At least, Seth thought, as he turned and fled, he hoped it was gilt.

He closed his eyes as he ran, and remembered the way the boy's eyes had looked up, soaked with pride and possessive jealousy. Violet eyes.

Kaiba's eyes opened. He couldn't recall closing them, but rationally knew he must have, otherwise he couldn't be opening them.

He had no idea what to make of this most recent, uncalled for recollection. Why would I want to think about Yami and Yuugi having sex? The very image stirred nausea, disgust, anger, jealousy –

Jealousy? Kaiba stopped himself. Jealousy. Why? For god's sake, why? Jealous because Yami had a liability in Yuugi? Little chance. Kaiba had lost someone, had lost Mokuba and that nearly accomplished what Gozaburo had failed to do. It nearly broke him.

I'm not jealous. The mere thought smacked of denial. Roughly, Kaiba shoved it to the back of his thoughts. Denial was acceptable. Truths that had not business in his life and unanswerable questions, weren’t.

He wasn't jealous.

The door opened. Kaiba startled, then looked to the hallway. Yami came down it, looking extraordinarily preoccupied. He walked past Kaiba without a word. The brunet scowled. Not at Yami, exactly, but because of another flaw in the emotional system. 'Slighted.'

Disgusted with himself, Kaiba retreated to his office-study and locked the door. He settled in for a too-long night of work without sleep. At least if he was exhausted, he wouldn't have to consider the uncomfortable and disconcerting reactions he was having lately. It was easier to be distracted.

*~*~*~*~*

You've always been taller. I used to think you always would be. I suppose in the conventional sense, now you always will be, since I'm hardly growing anymore. I just wanted to let you know, though, Seto… You might be taller, but this time, I'm the one watching over you. Brother to brother. I won't fail you, Seto. And remember, you never failed me.

"He hates us."

Yami shook his head again. Yuugi lay curled up on the bed, a strange expression on his face. For the past hour or so, the two of them had been discussing – arguing – the pros and cons of remaining in the Kaiba household. Yami sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Yuugi launched into yet another tirade.

The young duelist had never been exceptionally fond of Kaiba, but once upon a time there had been respect there. It was gone now, replaced with over-intense dislike and an odd combination of jealousy-fear.

"Get rid of Kaiba-kun."

And through it all, Yuugi still referred to the brunet in a friendly manner, though it had become clear his intentions were anything but friendly.

Yami stopped pacing and stared at Yuugi. "What? No! Yuugi, don't say things like that."

Yuugi uncurled and sat up, his young, boyish face grim. "Kaiba-kun doesn't want you," he protested. "And he hates me! He gives me these looks, like he wants to kill me… If you leave the house, he will, Yami!"

"Aibou –"

"He will!" Yuugi screeched.

Yami felt as though such words should worry him more. He was distressed, but in a detached fashion – more worried over his lack of response than over Yuugi's over-done fear. A headache – they were becoming more common and more powerful as of late – began to throb in his temples.

"Yuugi…" Yami tried to break into the little one's rant, but Yuugi refused to be halted. YMi stayed only long enough for Yuugi to begin repeating accusations before he left.

The room behind the door grew quiet. Yami nearly opened the door again and went back in. Yuugi must be crying. He always cried softly.

I've gone so cold I can't even feel him. Yami lurched away from the door, down the hallways and out the mansion's back door into the gardens. Being along wasn't comforting, but the silence wore less on his nerves and his senses. His head didn't hurt as much, even if his conscience did.

Yami found a small corner in the shade and sat there, head resting against the stone wall. The cool dampness did him some good. Or maybe it was the silence that helped. His body was tired.

*~*~*~*~*

Sometimes silence is best. Sometimes…there just is nothing to say.

The clock chimed. It was eleven. Kaiba closed out of his spreadsheets, and put away his work. Fourth and Eighth. He brought up a map of Domino and studied it, a frown creasing his face.

Fourth and Eighth. The two streets glowed on the screen, both finishing in dead ends. Between them, Sixth lay dull, dormant. Kaiba considered a moment longer, then stood and shut his laptop.

Brother, don't do this.

There were some things that just had to be finished.

From upstairs, Kaiba heard the tinkling sound of something fragile shattering. He paused briefly, looking upwards, considering whether or not he should investigate. It was the little one's fault; of that he had no doubt. The cold, calculating look in Yuugi's eyes was one of which people should be wary. Such a childish exterior only covered adult flaws, Kaiba had decided.

Whatever had been broken was replaceable. Kaiba could think of nothing of value that was in the house. He had his deck with him. Let the lovers burn the mansion down if they pleased. The damn thing was insured, and all the worthless treasures within as well.

XXX

Yami was shaking, staring at the shattered lamp on the floor. The power cord was still plugged in, and the filament in the cracked light bulb flared on and off. Over. And over. And over.

They had been arguing again.

It's not my fault! Yami wailed internally. His body felt rooted to the spot. It's not… He caught sight of Yuugi, pressed flat against the opposite wall, violet eyes wide and truly frightened. A wash of emotions swept through Yami: fear, lust, love, hate, attraction, disgust. He felt bile rising in his throat and tore his eyes away from Yuugi's cowering, softly whimpering form. The lamp…

"Yami, we're leaving!"

"No, aibou."

"Yami!" Yuugi's eyes, narrowed into an expression Yami had never seen. "We are leaving." A pressure, building between them; a tension twisted enough to pull on the very air, until Yami couldn’t breathe.

"N-no," he choked out.

"Yes!" Yuugi screamed back.

Yami tried to protest –

And now there were here, with a shattered lamp, and two shaking young men, staring from the broken pieces of porcelain to one another and back.

It's not my fault, Yami protested mentally again, but then, whose was it? Yuugi's? The lamp had been on this side of the room, and even if he didn't recall touching it, he must have. Did I throw that at Yuugi? Yami wondered.

He felt…ill. A sudden wave of nausea crested and Yami gasped for air, stumbling backwards a pace and fumbling for the door knob. After an exhaustive moment of nothing –

There. There it was. He yanked the door open and raced partway down the hall before the nausea overcame him. Yami went crashing to his knees, sobbing even as his body, his traitorous, treacherous body, began to shiver violently, dry-heaving.

What did I do to deserve this? Yuugi… Yuugi, I'm sorry! Yuugi wasn't responding. What choice did I have? Yami wondered, gasping, braced on all fours. Something came up. Then a little more.

I'm sorry… Yami thought again, distressed. It became a litany. So often now, he said things a hundred times, and Yuugi never listened. Just sat there, violet eyes…wide and innocent…and brimming with tears. Always tears.

I'm sorry.

*~*~*~*~*

You promised me, Seto! You wore, on mom and dad, and you said you'd never, ever do it again! Why, Seto? Why? For the love of whatever god you say doesn't exist – Seto! Don't!

Sixth street was gloomy. Big houses littered one side, hidden by thick rows of trees marching down the lawns, casting shadows from the dim street lights spaced evenly down the road. The other side harbored shoddier buildings, most nearly as large, but much more unkempt, even in this light. The streetlights were all broken on the far side of the street, except for one that flared on, then died…and flared on…and died…and flared…and…

Kaiba stood on the corner for a while, studying the dramatic difference. Sixth marked the change into the lower sections. Second and Fourth…those were nice streets. Eighth was a trash heap. He hadn't bothered to go see what Tenth was like.

Why would he want to expose himself to excessive filth and rancor? Besides, Sixth should be where Jou was, assuming Kura hadn't been lying. Or maybe Sixth was a metaphor. Between Fourth and Eight…where the rich blended with the dirt-poor.

Kaiba watched, blue eyes flickering from one side of the street to the other and back .A dozen times. Two dozen. A hundred. A thousand. And again.

Movement caught his eye, and Kaiba turned slightly, all his anger and rage ready to unleash on –

A cat. A small, grey and white cat that paused part way down the sidewalk, across the street. Its eyes glowed in the light of the street lamp, briefly before it turned its head and continued on its way. A horn honked as the cat vanished into a hedge, and a white car sped around the corner, taking the turn so sharply that it rocked the vehicle onto two wheels.

The car screeched then, and the blazing headlights dimmed slightly as it decelerated quickly enough to leave twin black marks and the smell of burned rubber on the pavement. The window rolled down.

"Ya lookin' fer sommat?" a man's voice called to Kaiba.

The brunet raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"Ye sure?" the man pressed.

Kaiba hesitated for a moment, then stepped out into the street. A few long strides had him at the car window, and he bent so he was nose-to-nose with the driver. The man's scent was rank. Old onions and salami peppered his breath. Kaiba stared him in the eye.

"Jounouchi Katsuya," he said, evenly. "Where is he?"

The stranger barked out a laugh. "So yer that one. Ye look a bit skinnier than ol' Jo' said ye were. Six houses down, bad side." The man pointed.

Kaiba nodded and backed up.

"Have fun, Tinkerbell!" the man roared before the car roared back into life and sped off down the street.

Kaiba guessed Kura must have sent the unasked for informant. Human beings did not suffer such good luck coincidentally.

Grim-faced, the teenage billionaire crossed the street and dutifully went six houses down. The house itself looked like an abused child attempting to sink in on itself. Kaiba tried the front door. It was open.

He walked in.

The house felt empty. After a walk-through of the kitchen that turned up nothing, Kaiba heard shallow breathing. He followed the sound, cautious. Why hadn't he brought a fully-loaded gun? Poetry had beaten out pragmatism. Not again, Kaiba thought grimly.

There were two bullets in the gun. If he discharged both on others, so be it. He'd kill Jounouchi with his own two hands. Or disembowel him with a kitchen knife –

Weak laughter, tinged with a hint of insanity echoed from the living room. Kaiba drew his handgun and followed it. In the room, lying on the couch, eyes closed, was Jou.

He was a mess. Blond hair lay matted, more grey than actually blond. A pile of empty beer and soda bottles rested at the foot of the couch, like corpses unceremoniously stacked before a throne. Jou's shirt was stained and ripped partway open. The sordid smell of the room floated on currents and Kaiba had the sneaking suspicion that Jou hadn't moved from that couch in days.

"He said you'd come," Jou croaked, taking a swig from a bottle in his free hand. The other lay out of sight, probably pinned awkwardly beneath his body. Even that small effort of raising the drink seemed to exhaust him.

Kaiba was disgusted. This was what had killed Mokuba? How dare he?

Seto, no!

Kaiba fingered his gun, keeping it out of eyeshot of Jou, though why he bothered when the Mutt's own eyes were closed –

Please, brother – Seto, Seto, listen!

Jou laughed and his whole body shook. "They've all been watching the house," he groaned when the coughing fit subsided. "They all saw you come in. They all know, rich boy. S'you fault."

No, no, no –

Kaiba raised his gun.

No! Seto, don’t!

Blood blossomed from Jou's body.

Seto… Seto, it's over. Put your gun down.

Confusion raced through Kaiba. He put his hand to the muzzle of his gun. It was cool. He hadn't shot. His eyes went to Jou's form, and he stared. The hand, the hidden one, had been holding a handgun, pressed flat against Jou's temple.

Kaiba was frozen, but only for a moment. He backed out of the room, then left, heart racing as he exited the house. Once on the street, Kaiba peered about in the darkness, but either Jou's 'watchers' were well-hidden, or they were the byproduct of a drunk and delusional mind.

With some difficulty, Kaiba gathered himself together and began the trek back to his car.

Seto…you wouldn't have killed him, would you?

He wasn't sure. He had meant to.

I'll be glad then, Nii-sama, that it isn't your hands stained with blood. I'll content myself with that. I never wanted you to kill for my sake. Not once, and never again.

A/N: Yami and Yuugi are rather difficult creatures to portray in this because they are much different than they are in canon. That makes character consistency remarkably difficult…so please forgive any minor errors. ^^
To my knowledge, no one ever says exactly HOW Domino is laid out. Therefore, I assumed it to be like a grid, the way many cities are. Even streets are all parallel, odd streets are all parallel, and odd/even intersect perpendicularly.
Kaiba is the type concerned with functionality and ONLY functionality (with exception of Duel Monsters, I guess, where presentation is everything). A house is a house. All it needs are rooms, walls, doors and a few objects of furniture. The 'worthless treasures; are left over from Gozaburo's time as ruler of the house. Pieces of art and such that Kaiba was never fond of, but so now reason to destroy himself.
I had an epiphany part way through this chapter. Yuugi is a drug. Or…LIKE a drug, rather. So, think of poor Yami as a user. Now, a drug addict needs the drug for general well-feeling. If deprived…there's withdraw. Now, Yuugi is slowly being pulled out of Yami's system. Therefore, withdraw symptoms, but ya'll know that until the poison is gone, Yami will never be 100%