FicWad

Title: String of Light
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 s/ins 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-