Fateful Salvation: Chapter 2

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters

Genre: Supernatural, Romance

Description: An old man's Blue Eyes White Dragon card brings about the crossing of their paths. After that, life will never be the same for the two of them. A Seto Yami fanfiction.

Pairing: Seto Kaiba x Yami Yugi (Prideshipping)

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Fateful Salvation
by: scarlet wax petal

Click here to return to Chapter 1. Click here to see the Table of Contents.

Chapter 2: The Tempest Comes

When the bell rang in Domino High School this particular afternoon, the entire academic population cheered in revelry. Student bounced on their desks like monkeys and kangaroos, while teachers forgot themselves and danced like young partygoers on a high. Everywhere in the building, all were rejoicing this long-awaited time when, after being caged in duties and responsibilities, they would finally savor the sweet, sweet taste of freedom.

Ah, blessed months-long break! No more homework and examinations for the students, no more lesson plans and papers to check for the teachers! Just weeks and weeks of carefree fun and excitement. As the students flood out the school gates (surprisingly, no stampede), they eagerly chatter about their plans for the upcoming break. Of course, talks of fast-approaching Duel Monsters tourneys are commonplace.

"So, who do you think would be champion this time?" a young man jokingly asks.

His companion, an older-looking guy with a bald head, grunts, obviously annoyed. "Ugh! Is that something that still needs to be asked? Who else?"

"Well, who else?"

"Who else? No one else, dummy! Obviously, Seto Kaiba’s gonna take the crown again!" He grunts again, shaking his head. "Man, that jerk really pisses me off!"

"Why, are you vying for the championship? Hey, dream on, man! You can’t even tell a spell card from a trap card. ‘Sides, you don’t have half the cash that Kaiba dude has. Think you can take him on? Hah! Your common cards won’t last two rounds against his rare ones; get real!"

"No, it’s not that, stupid! He can have the championship, for all I care. See here?" And he holds out his arms as if in offering. "I can even personally hand him all the medals and trophies on a silver platter. And then, when he’s near enough, I would take the tallest trophy and ram it up his stinky ass! Uhm!" He gestures, boxing the air upwards with his fist. "Up yours, you fucker!" The two men laugh insanely.

"It’s that attitude of his; it really gets into my nerves!" he continues. "He’s so goddamned arrogant, thinks he is the king of the world. Bah!" And he speaks with conviction. "Someday, that Kaiba will fall; I’m sure of it! Someone’s going to come and kick his sorry ass to lala-land, and he’ll be crying for his mommy!" He stops and slaps his bottom in demonstration. "Mommy, mommy, my butt is hurting. Please kiss it to make it well," he moans sarcastically in a childish voice. "And then he’ll be too shamed to appear before anyone. Maybe we won’t be seeing him for a hundred years, maybe never. That’ll be the day."

"Speaking of which," his pal says, "we haven’t seen Kaiba lately. Where could he be?"

The bald man shrugs. "Dunno. He can be dead and burning in hell. Who cares?"

Nearby, Yami Mutou and his friends Yugi, Anzu, Jounouchi and Honda emerge from the school gates and come to hear the conversation between the two young men. Yami stops and wordlessly looks at them. A dry, choking feeling settles in his throat. He almost sheds tears.

Yugi gingerly slips a hand in Yami’s cold one and gazes up at him with his large amethyst eyes. "I know. I understand," he softly says, gently laying his head on Yami’s shoulder. "It’s Kaiba, isn’t it?"

"Aa," replies Yami, lost in thought. He heaves a sigh. "I just feel it. There’s more to Kaiba than meets the eye. So tough on the outside, and yet…"

His voice trails. His mind searches for the words that would truly express what he wishes to say, yet, despite his best efforts, they remain concealed, so desperately away from his grasp, and he roughly shakes his head in exasperation. Yugi holds onto his hand more tightly, attempting to comfort. Finally, Yami whispers, rolling out the only words he can offer:

"Inexplicable. It’s simply inexplicable."

Yugi nods his head empathically. "Perhaps you can’t say much because you still have much to learn."

"Perhaps, aibou. Perhaps. Kaiba -- he is… a complex puzzle waiting to be solved. And I feel that unless I find the answer to his enigma, the words will continue to escape me."

Anzu joins the conversation. "Why not seek it yourself?" she remarks. "He obviously intrigues you."

"I agree," adds Yugi. "You may just be the key to unlocking his puzzle."

"Maybe," Yami responds with a smile. "But I’ll entrust that to the hands of fate."

Just then, a cool breeze passes by, carrying with it the odor of humidity. Intuitively, Yami looks up. He notices gray clouds starting to form, the sign of an impending storm. An omen, and a memory, one of the few that he has in his consciousness. He has seen these before, somewhere else, at a recent time. He continues to stare. Along the looming nimbus clouds, a zip of lightning slithers like a prickled serpent, and he feels his chest suddenly tighten, rousing him in shock from his trance.

"Let us hurry!" he exclaims in urgency. Before anyone could ask, Yami runs in the direction of the Kame Game Shop. Yugi would have immediately followed, but Anzu grabs his hand to stop him.

"What’s going on, Yugi?" she asks.

"I’m not too sure, Anzu," Yugi says in reply. His voice is high with the same hurry that Yami had exhibited. He gasps, catching his breath, as if he has been running. "But I’ve a feeling that Yami thinks Grandpa is in danger!" He shakes off Anzu’s hand and dashes in Yami’s direction. Soon after, his friends follow, hollering for explanations.

The first drops of rain begin to fall. Jou instinctively covers his head with his hands. "Oh man!" he whines. "Did anyone bring an umbrella?" Anzu and Honda shake their heads.

"We should’ve checked the weather forecast before leaving," Anzu declares. "We should’ve been warned."

"I should’ve brought my motorcycle, too," adds Honda. "Then we could be going much faster than this."

"Well, it’s a tad bit too late for that," says Anzu. "Let’s just hurry, okay, so we can catch up with them. Maybe even get to the shop before the rain starts pouring."

Meanwhile, Yami has noticed the drizzle. He glances upward. The clouds have now piled as huge gray boulders threatening to fall from the whitish-blue sky. It is very dusky, as if night has taken over. Barely anything is visible. If not for the lampposts, and if not for the brief flashes of lightning that frequently fired up the sky, all would’ve seen nothing, as though they were blind.

The lightning grows larger and brighter by the minute. It snakes wildly in all directions across the heavens, now appearing, now disappearing, always entangling the sky in its awesome flaring dance. It would catch the tongues and mesmerize those who behold from below. Then, in what seems like a finale, the lightning would summon a deafening blast of thunder, stirring those who are enthralled; and just when everyone is thinking that the show is over, it would once again flare, and once again captivate, relishing in its tremendous power.

It scares the hell out of Yami. Nonetheless, he is brave; where bravery is not the absence of fear, but the capability to face it; when, driven by the echoes of Sugoroku’s cries that the winds bear to him so faithfully, he pursues against the elements, and finally reaches his destination.

He finds the door ajar. A sickening throbbing in his throat seems to knock upon his conscience. And then, suddenly, the rain falls. It plummets to the ground, drumming hard upon the road and on the roofs and on his head. Above him, lightning flashes its brightest, most triumphant glare in mocking.

Damn it! he exclaims, stomping his foot in anger, in self-reproach. The puddle beneath him splashes, soaking him even further. He looks up at the sky again. He sees the darkness. It was the same darkness -- that which he had seen haze Kaiba’s cerulean eyes like thunderstorm clouds plaguing gloomy ocean waters. There was a potential for a violent tempest.

He shouldn’t have just stared. He should’ve been warned. They should’ve been warned.

Yugi and the rest catch up and find him under the rain, as if in surrender. His head is bowed, his entire body drenched and cold. Torrential gusts beat his skin so viciously, almost bruising and wounding, yet he doesn’t seem to heed. And so, they call. He hears their voices. They reach him and touch him: hands on shoulder, hands on head and gentle embraces. The warmth is returned. He has learned his lesson well, drawing strength from his friends when he needs it most.

Without an umbrella, everyone is soaked in the weather. But it’s too late for regrets now. Together, they enter the shop. It is dark and abandoned. Sugoroku is gone.

And then the phone rings. Yugi picks up. From the other end, a sharp voice answers. It is the voice of Seto Kaiba.

Outside, the storm barrages relentlessly. Carefree days are suddenly over.

(to be continued)

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