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A Cord of Light	By : sunfalling Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 797 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Cord of Light
- 1
Title: A Cord of
Light

Author: Sunfalling

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: violence,
strong language, graphic sex (of dubious consent)

Miles above the surface of
the earth, Seto Kaiba awakes from a dream, snorting and shaking his head. He
can still smell gunpowder and burning buildings; he clears his throat of
imaginary cement dust. With some difficulty, he reminds himself that he is
sitting in the extremely comfortable plush seat of his personal jet with a soft
feather pillow on his neck, not lying in the blackened rubble with tank fire
echoing in his deafened ears.

Too many dreams start like this, reliving a life he has
never known. Punishment?
he wonders. The
sins of the fathers visited on their sons�that's
how Alister explained it. Goddamn Alister. Goddamn Gozaburo. Even though he
knows now his step-father didn't start the war that killed Alister's family, he
wouldn't put it past the old snake.

Kaiba grits his teeth and tries to relax his body, to find a
peaceful balance. He knows this trip will fix everything, once and for all.
When Kaiba wants something, he makes it happen. CEOs get on their knees,
company presidents fall out of windows, and vengeful, idealistic young men do
as they're told. He nods to himself, leans back in his seat again. That's all there is to it.

-

Kaiba had forgotten how much he dislikes Italy.
The flocks of poorly-dressed, gawking tourists annoy him, but not so much as
the locals who assume he is a
tourist. Of course he is out of place here in his long, white coat with its
straps and buckles, his spotless black boots and the cool blue eyes that
dismiss everyone. In this part of town, the pavement is cracked and the
streetlamps on the sidewalk are a dusty blackish color. The air smells like
rain and he walks faster, regretting dismissing his driver. He was afraid that
a long, sleek car might be too intimidating and compromise his success.

He finds the little garage hunched next to a shabby grocery
store, its roof slanted to the side and badly in need of repair. Several
vehicles crowd the weedy lot in various states of dismantlement. Some look as
though they have been there since Mussolini's reign, quietly rotting in
deference to a coating of green fungus.

A portly old man with a dirty cap emerges when he knocks on
the dingy door and grins up at him in surprise. "Aiuto di bisogno,
Signore?"

"Sto cercando un ragazzo con capelli rossi,"
Kaiba replies, hoping that his Italian hasn't grown too embarrassing with
disuse. Surely there can't be more than one "boy with red hair" in
this pathetic dump.

The old man smiles and nods before disappearing into the
shop again. Kaiba hears him call a name that he doesn't recognize and then,
without warning, Alister is there, wiping his hands on a filthy rag, scowling
fiercely.

He's much the same as ever, though a bit less flamboyant.
The cropped top is grayish, and not as tight as before; the dark pants are
looser on his long, slim legs, and his heavy combat boots are scuffed and
stained. He has an army-green padded vest over his top so that only a spare
rectangle of his tight belly shows. It's enough. Kaiba can see the edge of his
ribcage and the curiously appealing dip of his navel.

"What the hell are you here for?" Alister demands
and Kaiba raises his gaze, taking in the gray eyes lowered with suspicion, the
tightened lips, and the flaring bob of incredible red hair that frames his
youthful features. Alister's face always looked too young to Kaiba, for his age
as well as his long, confident body.

"I'm here to collect on a debt," Kaiba says
calmly. He can already feel sweat breaking out on the back of his neck and
under his arms, but he knows how to look cool as ice. He's practiced all his
life. This fatalistic
young duelist might consume his thoughts and dreams, but he won't make the
great Seto Kaiba break down.

"I don't owe you anything. Be glad that I didn't take
everything from you when I had the chance." Alister crosses his arms and
leans against the sooty wall of the building.

"You took plenty," Kaiba says grimly. "You
and your psychotic friends damaged the reputation of my company, compromised my
financial security, and endangered my life as well as the well-being of my
brother. Besides wasting my time on pointless chases and duels, you hijacked my
private aircraft and caused it to crash in the middle of nowhere. The way I see
it, you owe me for harassment, damage of property�and let's not forget the time
you spent in my medical facility
receiving treatment on my account
while I fought to save the world from your insane leader."

Alister is unmoved. "If you've done your research, you
must be aware that I won't ever be able to fight off your lawyers or repay you.
So what now? Off with my head?" He glares at the rag in his hands and
won't meet Kaiba's gaze, which the taller boy hates.� He had grown used to wide, angry eyes
confronting him, challenging him across the dueling ground where their monsters
crouched.

On the edge of his vision, he sees the old man watching them
curiously through a smeared window and Kaiba bites his lip with impatience.
"Where are you staying?" he asks. "Let's go there."

"I pay rent. It's not worth anything," Alister
mutters. He tosses the rag in a rusty barrel, straightens and leads the way
down the street, kicking at loose stones. "You may as well skin me and
sell my hide. It's all I have."

"You're working as a mechanic now. I never would have
guessed."

Alister doesn't turn to look at him. "I burned my cards
and I can't work as a pilot with my record. I fix stuff now. Not so bad."
He changes the subject. "So, have you been to the leaning tower yet? The basilica, or the Campo dei Miracoli?"

"I didn't come here for sight-seeing...or
miracles."

"Suit yourself."

Kaiba follows the back of his head, like a burning bush, to
a dilapidated apartment building. Alister climbs the narrow iron stairs and
unlocks a door with peeling yellow paint. A worn straw mat stares up at them. Benvenuto. Looking
down at the street below, Kaiba sees a motorcycle parked by the sidewalk.

"A Nighthawk? Really, Alister. You know that those are
bias-ply tires, right? Your maneuverability must be shit."

"Forgive me more not dropping six grand on a BMW,"
Alister grumbles, pushing on the sticking door. "I really, really wanted
to save up all my money for you."

The door gives way to Alister's boot with a groan of
friction and they step into a tiny kitchen with warped countertops and cracked
linoleum. A few dishes sit in the sink and a faded picture of the Virgin hangs
over the entrance to the next room. Other than that, the place is frighteningly
bare.

"Puts your mansions to shame," Alister says,
chuckling darkly. He takes off his vest and tosses it on the lone wooden chair.
From behind him, Kaiba can see the top of his hips rising above the dark
trousers and the clean curve of his back. The sharp edges of his shoulder
blades show through the fabric of his cropped top. Kaiba swallows silently.

Alister is opening the squat, olive-green fridge. "Wine
for the guest?" He holds up a dark, cheap-looking bottle. "Warning
you, I only have paper cups."

Kaiba meets his sarcastic gaze directly. "Oh, you're so
destitute, my heart is breaking." Harsher now, "Why didn't you just
stay in the hospital, Alister? I would have taken care of everything."

Alister shrugs and sets the bottle on the counter, tilting
back against the opposite wall with his arms stretched above his head. He looks
like a dancer or a model with his defined muscles and slender frame. Kaiba
thinks about sliding a hand against the small of his back and leaning into his
face, slowly and deliberately.

"I didn't see any reason to stay there," Alister
says. "I got manipulated, made bad decisions, and fucked up a few lives. I
left to find my brother."

"Your brother has been dead for years," Kaiba says
incredulously. "You know that. Did you think he might be lurking in repair
shops in Europe?"

"Why are you here Kaiba?" Alister demands,
dropping his arms and moving closer to look the taller teen in the face.
"I thought you wanted me out of your life."

Kaiba's muscles tighten and he feels his breath shortening.
He wants to touch the bare leather thong on Alister's pale neck and the points
of his collarbone. "What do you think I felt when I came back to the
hospital and you were gone?"

Snorting, Alister throws up his hands. "Relief? Joy? A
nagging disappointment that you couldn't wring any money out of me?" He
seems to realize that he's gotten too close and is shouting into Kaiba's intent
face. "Don't look�"

Kaiba's hand catches the leather thong and jerks the boy's
head up to meet his eyes. "I want to make this clear to you now if you
haven't realized it yet: You have nothing, Alister. You are no one. You are
greatly in debt to me. Consequently, you belong to me. I'm taking you back to Japan."

The heel of Alister's palm connects painfully with Kaiba's
sternum but he doesn't lose his grip. He uses his whole body to push Alister
back against the wall. "There will be no debate on this."

"Fuck you," Alister grates, thrashing for leverage
against Kaiba's solid frame. He doesn't have any space and can only manage weak
blows with his elbows and knees. Finally he gives up and sags against the
spotted plaster, breathing hard.

"Understand now?" Kaiba asks calmly. He feels hot
and distracted by the smell of Alister's hair and the smudges of engine grease
on his arms.

"What am I supposed to do in Japan?"
Alister says resentfully.

"You'll work for me, of course."

"Maintaining your fleet of shiny motorcycles?"

Kaiba smiles to himself, holding his pleasure inside.
"If I want you to."

Alister's head drops with defeat and he looks at the floor
listlessly. Kaiba scowls and releases the pressure of his arm against the
youth's chest. Instead, he curls one hand around the firm muscles of Alister's
upper arm and drops the other to brush his knuckles lightly against the bare
skin of the tight stomach. Alister's eyes widen and his body tenses, but he
still doesn't look at Kaiba.

"Perv," he hisses between his teeth. "You're
worse than�"

"Shut up." Kaiba feels strange and feverish.
"You walk around in those clothes all day and toss your vest off as soon
as we're alone in here. You're no blushing virgin, Alister, so don't pretend to
be a victim."

"Oh, the logic of rapists," Alister manages to say
before Kaiba shuts his mouth with a hard kiss. His nerves are stretched thin
like sharp wires, and every sensation�the hot body against him, the smell of
sweat and engine oil, the slick undersides of open lips�drives him closer to
the breaking point. Alister's breath comes fast through his nostrils and mouth.
He makes a small, strange sound when Kaiba sinks a hand into his thick hair and
pulls him even closer. He eyes are closed and his mouth is slack under Kaiba's
assault. "Un," he gasps when Kaiba kisses his chin and slides a hand
down to the end of his back, the dip above his ass.

Kaiba feels the lithe body arch against him like a bow, feels the muscled abdomen against his
waist and the straining curve of the spine curling against his palm. He feels
sweet electricity playing on the surface of his skin, the aching of his groin.
Alister's fingers are digging into his side, his back, like painful, erotic
thorns. And now, when he lowers his face, Alister is kissing him, really
kissing him hungrily, like he means it�and hurting him too. Alister's teeth
close on his bottom lip and Kaiba gasps with the pain.

"Hate you," Alister hisses. His body is possessed
with hunger and writhes like a snake.

"This part of you doesn't," Kaiba counters
breathlessly, nudging a thigh between the other boy's legs. Alister is hot as a
furnace, blazing out against Kaiba's skin. He's stunning like this�head fallen
back, red mouth panting, hazy unfocused eyes, hair flaring out like a fiery
halo. Fucking gorgeous, Kaiba thinks
distantly. All mine.

Considerately, he removes his leg from its position and
presses his right hand against the hot bulge between Alister's thighs.
"Ah," Alister moans. He has tears in the corners of his eyes. Kaiba
kisses his wet mouth briefly ducking to suck at the hollow of the smooth neck
as he rubs the boy to completion through the rough fabric of his trousers.

Alister gasps as he comes and his frame slackens against
Kaiba, loose and lovely with messy hair and wild eyes. Breathing against his
neck, Kaiba raises his head to kiss the swollen mark, the line of his jaw and
the thickness of his hair. "Mine," he says firmly.

Alister says nothing; his eyes are closed and his breathing
slows. Straightening, Kaiba goes methodically to the drawers of the kitchen to
find a washcloth. They stick as badly as the door, creaking stubbornly against
his strength.

The scrape of something against the counter behind him is
his only warning and he turns. The swinging wine bottle misses his head and
impacts the space between his shoulder and neck like an iron club. Losing his
balance for a moment, Kaiba grits his teeth against the explosion of pain and
dodges Alister's next blow, falling backwards before the dark blur of the
bottle. On the next swing he is ready and he manages to catch Alister's wrist
and wrench it down, forcing the bottle to shatter against the edge of the
counter.

Alister's face is clenched with fury and he struggles
against Kaiba's grip, trying to stab him with the broken bottleneck in his
hand. The scent of fermented grapes fills Kaiba's nose. The floor is slippery
under his feet. Alister's long leg lashes out at his knees and he twists to
throw the lean youth off balance, blood pounding his ears.

Slipping and falling, Alister hits the floor hard, landing on
his back in the wine and glass shards. He cries out but doesn't release his
hold on the broken bottle, nearly bringing Kaiba down with him. Kaiba lets it
go, thinking to pin his opponent, but Alister's knees pull back and the thick
soles of this combat boots slam into Kaiba's chest, pushing him back hard.

Breathless, aching and keeping his distance now, Kaiba
stands in the little stretch of carpet on the other side of the kitchen. He
watches the other boy rise painfully to his feet, clothes and skin stained red.
Alister's eyes blaze at him across the short distance. "Get out of my
life, Kaiba. I'm warning you now."

Kaiba chuckles with genuine pleasure. "Ah, a warning.
...And the bottle to the head was just a cautionary suggestion, of
course." His veins are liquid fire and his muscles tremble with
anticipation. He has never felt this alive, even when dueling
the pharaoh. Alister is a ten times more fascinating than he had ever expected.

"Seven years," Alister says harshly. "Seven years
I spent obsessing over you, centering my entire life around
your death. Afterwards�in the hospital�I just wanted to go away and forget
everything. You can't just tromp back into my life and expect me to fall on my
knees and suck your dick."

"You'd love my dick," Kaiba says, smirking.
"You're just prolonging the inevitable, like this. But that's alright; I'd
be so disappointed if you gave up too easily." He sheds his long coat,
tossing it on the counter and cracks the joints of his neck leisurely.

"Arrogant prick." Alister
tosses the broken bottle in the sink and takes a broom from the dusty corner.
He advances quickly, brandishing the polished handle like a pike. Kaiba draws
in a long breath of satisfaction, catches the end of the handle with both hands
and turns the point away from his body. But Alister's strength exceeds his
expectations and the redhead pushes him back with the length of the handle
forced against Kaiba's hands and chest. Stumbling backwards, he bumps into the
cold glass of a window and Alister tries to hold him there. Straining, they
struggle for dominance until Kaiba manages to gain enough space to hook a leg
behind Alister's knee, pulling him down to the floor again.

This time, he's quick to put all his weight on Alister's
knees. The broom clatters to the side. The other boy snarls and swings
frantically at his head. Kaiba feels knuckles smash against his cheekbone and
then on the side of his forehead. He wrestles against flying fists and loses
when Alister sinks a punch into his gut, knocking the breath out of his lungs.
Thrashing violently, Alister throws him off to the side and tries to jump on
him, but Kaiba gets a firm grip on his hair and pushes him, screaming,
face-down on the floor. Then it�s just the old school yard game�knee on the lower back, twist the arm up until he howls.

"Give up," Kaiba growls, shaking with exertion.
"Give up, you little whore."

Alister is screaming obscenities into the tattered carpet.
His back is red with wine and blood. Bits of green glass glint in his bare skin
and the fabric of the half-top. Kaiba twists harder, pulling the arm harshly
against its socket. "Give up before I really hurt you."

In blind agony, Alister sobs. Tears run into the carpet,
into his nose. "Give up," Kaiba pleads softer, loosening his hold a
little. Alister looks so broken lying here on the floor of this disgusting
apartment, like the busted action figure he used to always wave around. Too young and vulnerable for this shit. I just wanted to make you safe, Kaiba wants to say, I want to give you a home and protect you,
to make something good out of all your fucking tragedy. Alister trembles
and heaves beneath him. It's not my
fault. It's not even Gozaburo's fault�what happened to you and your family. But
I still wanted to fix it anyway.

"...Give up," Alister gasps into carpet, voice
muffled with tears. "I give up."

Gingerly, Kaiba gets up off him, tries to help him up.
Standing slowly, Alister rubs his sore arm and turns his wet face away.

"We need to get the glass out of your back," Kaiba
insists sternly.

There's a first aid kit in a cupboard above the fridge. To
examine the wounds Kaiba pulls Alister's sweaty, stained top over his head.
It's elastic and clings to his skin. Kaiba's fingers slide carefully over his
flesh, up the channel of his back. Alister winces as he raises the injured arm
but allows Kaiba to pick the shards out of his skin, wash away the wine, and
sanitize the wounds before bandaging them carefully.

Kaiba unbuttons his own shirt to examine the bruises forming
on his shoulder, chest, and stomach. He doesn't really want to know what his
face looks like. Alister slumps in the rickety chair and stares at his hands,
the dark grease in his cuticles, mute in defeat.

"My plane is waiting at Galileo Galilei overnight," Kaiba
says coolly. "We'll have to get up early� tomorrow and you need to pack
tonight."

"Don't have anything." Alister's hair falls over
his face in a half veil of bright auburn, beautiful against his pale skin. "Just my bike."

"I'll make sure it gets sold," Kaiba assures him.
"I have several custom made bikes of my own specifications. You can use
one of those or design your own."

He pulls Alister up off of the lonely chair and into the tiny
bedroom. A single mattress lies on the floor along with a short stack of books
and a battered nightstand. Clothing is strewn about the floor and hanging in
the narrow closet. As Alister unlaces his boots, Kaiba goes to the nightstand.
The battered action figure lies on top of it, blacked and dismembered. Mikey's
doll, Kaiba remembers, the last memento of a murdered
family.

The nightstand has two drawers. Fifty-fifty, Kaiba thinks. He opens the bottom one and digs through
some pill bottles, loose change, and a hairbrush to find a generous tube of
lubricant and a packet of condoms. Two of the condoms are gone, he notices with
a frown. Obviously, Alister doesn't wear tight, revealing tops to enjoy the
breeze. But he dismisses the thought. From now on, there won't be any others.

Boots discarded, Alister stands near the bed, looking at the
mattress despondently. Kaiba kisses the downy base of his neck and reaches
around to undo the trousers stained with wine and semen. Alister's warm side
shudders against the sensitive skin of Kaiba's forearms. "You've had other
men," Kaiba says. "Maybe women, but I doubt it. Anyway, from now on
you're mine completely. No others, unless you want me to kill them in
excruciating ways."

"Just put a chastity belt on me already," Alister
snaps.

"Not before I fuck you," Kaiba says with relish.
The dark pants are on the floor and he's getting hard just looking at Alister's
lean, sleek body, all clean lines and tight muscle. Only the leather cord
remains around his neck, circling below the swollen mark on his throat.
"You're much less annoying when you're naked."

Kaiba un-straps his own boots and quickly sheds his belt.
Inexplicably, Alister moves to him and pulls Kaiba's loose shirt off his
shoulders with hooded eyes. Kaiba feels the other boy's fingers slip beneath
the waistband of his pants, unhook the clasp and push them off his waist.

"I don't know if I like you this seductive," Kaiba
says gruffly to hide his racing heartbeat. "You shouldn't be more
experienced than me."

"I'm older than you by almost a year," Alister
reminds him dryly. "You should be begging me to teach you the ways of
love."

"And who taught you?" Kaiba asks darkly, hands
tightening.

Snickering, Alister reaches down to fondle him gently,
rolling his balls in the palm of one hand. Kaiba bites back a moan. Alister is
touching his chest, using his other hand to trace the old scars there. Meeting
his inquisitive gaze, Kaiba says curtly, "You weren't the only one who
hated Gozaburo."

Alister doesn't apologize or offer regrets. He brushes a
faded white crescent on his own flank. We
both lived through wars.

Kaiba has forgotten, if he ever knew, how incredible it is
to have someone else touching his body with cool, sure hands. The pads of
Alister's fingers are soft against his shoulder and rough against his belly,
against the thin skin of his cock. He feels the familiar magic of lightning on
the surface of his skin. Less frantic this time, more methodical and
deliberate.

With his teeth, Alister tears a condom free and rolls it
expertly onto Kaiba's erection before sliding one his own. "It's been a
while," he says softly as he kneels on the mattress. "Use lots of
lube."

The sight of Alister sliding his face into his arms while
raising his firm ass like an offering is more erotic than Kaiba thinks it ought
to be, given the almost clinical nature of his behavior. It's like something
out of Sex Ed. brochure: 1.Stimulate
Arousal, 2.Apply Contraceptive, 3.Commence Penetration. But the stark
beauty of Alister's long, bare back stretched out before him, drives cynicism
out of his mind.

Red hair falls off the back of Alister's neck, revealing the
dark line of the leather thong. His fighter's body combines the power of the masculine
and the beauty of the feminine in a striking androgyny. The hard line of his
spine divides rows of curved ribs and continues down between perfect hips to
the smooth rise of his buttocks.

The lube is cheap and slimy but it works well enough. Kaiba
tries to look like he knows what he's doing, scissoring and stretching the
tight, hot flesh. Alister makes a sudden breathy sound when he curls two
fingers and he takes that as a good sign.

Slicking his erection quickly, he presses in, slowly and
carefully as his heart rate accelerates. Alister is deliciously, amazingly,
incredibly tight around him. He sinks in completely and can't muffle his moan
this time; it rises feral in the back of his throat.

"Fuck me," Alister rasps with a hint of
impatience, rocking his pelvis.

"Umnn," Kaiba agrees. He leans lower over
Alister's back, tries a quick experimental thrust that makes Alister shudder
and push back against his hips. Kaiba finds good leverage with one hand on the
mattress and the other arm curled around Alister, holding him close. The little
bandages scrape against the skin of his chest as he loses himself in the rhythm
of sex, the wordless gasps of Alister. He pushes his face into the hollow of
Alister's shoulder blades, breathes the warm scent, licks
the sweat. Moving a hand down Alister's belly, he strokes the other's cock with
his free hand, listening greedily to the redhead's louder cries.

"Mine," Kaiba gasps, driving
harder into the clenching heat. He sees the edge of his release in sharp
relief, a wall of crushing pleasure, but he holds it back, waiting for this�for
the sudden rise of Alister's shoulders and his flame-colored head, the cry that
breaks from his body, ragged and hoarse. Then, when Alister's pleasure is
finished, Kaiba lets the climax fall over him like a tsunami. It�s a rush like
victory, but more complete and overpowering, enveloping him and draining him in
the same instant. Lightning flashes down his spine and leaves him with a sweet,
sated ache of gratification.

Of course, the end of sex is also a bit stickier than the
end of most duels. After a few moments of panting softly against Alister's warm
shoulder, Kaiba gathers the strength to get up, toss the condoms, and go find a
towel to wipe off with. This time he's careful to keep an eye out for any extra
flying wine bottles that might be lurking about. But Alister is still
comfortably collapsed on the mattress when he returns and he rolls over
obligingly so that Kaiba can clean his front.

They manage to fit on the mattress together underneath the
threadbare blanket. Kaiba curls close to Alister, face pushed into his hair. He
feels remarkably satisfied, having captured his quarry without too much
trouble. The bruises will heal and Alister's cuts are shallow. His real problem
is the symbol of the toy on the dresser, broken forever. Alister's inner wounds
won't heal so easily. He thinks of the end of the duel on the plane where
Alister collapsed and his soul blazed in a string of light to the depths of the
sky. He remembers the horror and fear that he held inside himself, carrying the
redhead's long, limp body off the crumpled plane. The peaceful emptiness of
Alister's sleeping face resting on the grass...

"Did you ever think about suicide?" he asks
without thinking. A part of him hopes Alister is asleep.

"I promised my brother I would live." Alister's
voice is clear and calm.

"And his dead, bleached bone fragments can hear you so
well," Kaiba says snidely.

"You'll always an asshole, won't you?" Alister
mutters without emotion. "There are other ways to escape besides
death."

"Like sex?" Kaiba says automatically. A sudden
black hatred froths in his heart when he thinks of someone else on this
mattress, smelling Alister's hair like he is now. Or was.
Alister has rolled off the bed and is reaching for a pair of crumpled khaki
pants.

Kaiba watches him pull them on with dislike. "Where are
you going?" he demands.

"To get a beer from the fridge," Alister answers
levelly. "You want one?"

"No." Kaiba watches him leave the room, pants riding
low on his slim hips. He's feeling the renewed stirrings of arousal already. Next, he tells himself, we'll take a shower, if this crap place has
one. He strokes his cock lazily thinking of Alister's hair darkened with
water and plastered against his neck, his skin shining with moisture, Alister
panting in the steamy air and bracing himself against the tiles of the wall as
Kaiba fucks him thoroughly.

Quite pleased with himself, Kaiba looks up toward the
nightstand to locate the lube again and his smile vanishes. The battered action
figure is gone from its former place on the stand's dark-grained surface. His
mind freezes. When the hell did he have
time to take it?

In an instant, Kaiba is out of bed and running naked into
the kitchen. The eager growl of a motorcycle tears at his ears and he rushes to
the window in time to see Alister's bare back and bright head swerve around a
corner and disappear into the drizzling rain. The bike roars in the distance,
flying through narrow streets.

"Son of a..." Kaiba hisses through his teeth,
alone in the empty apartment. The anger comes over him like a cyclone. He wants
to scream and rant and break every fucking thing in this fucking place. But he
pulls the rage inside himself, wraps it up and seals it there for use at a
better time. Anger filtered through genius has made him what he is.

He calms inwardly as he reasons with himself. It may take
days or weeks, but lost possessions can be recovered. How many shirtless
red-headed boys on motorcycles can there be in Italy�or
even the whole of Europe? Oh, he'll be found. When Kaiba
wants something, he makes it happen. That's
all there is to it.

On the top of the warped counter, huge black letters form a
hasty, furious phrase: NOT YOURS. The marker lies nearby, uncapped. Kaiba picks
it up and writes a smaller word underneath the other two in a firm hand: YET.

Smirking, he looks over the ruin of the kitchen: the sticky
red wine speckled with glass shards that glint in the dull light like weak
emeralds. Alister's ruined top lies discarded on the carpet. Kaiba picks it up
and holds it to his face, smelling wine, blood, and sweat as he reads the words
on the counter again. He knows what he wants.

Once upon a time he saw Alister's soul leave his body and
stretch into the blue sky like a cord of light pulled taut to breaking. In that
single moment Kaiba knew exactly what he what he was looking for...and that he
would go anywhere to get it back.

-end-
- 1
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A Cord of Light