Isis leaned back into the now full bubble bath. She blinked her long velvet lashes closed and sighed.
Home…
Her home was in Egypt, back with the memory of her mother. The mother who loved books and cultures and languages and shared that love with her only daughter. It was because of her mother that she had spent her life studying and learned of the places they longed to visit and see.
She smiled wistfully. If her mother had known that Isis would end up in Japan, she'd have demanded to come with her.
Of course if her mother were still alive, she'd never have been here in the first place.
Gingerly, Isis touched her right upper arm. It was throbbing slightly- she hadn't noticed it until now. Gently she touched the area. It was sore but no visible damage. Must've hit it or something…
Isis stepped out of the bathtub and enveloped herself in one of the many fluffy towels. She stepped in front of the mirror and picked up silver-handled brush. With several firm strokes she began working out the tangles in her hair, pulling the ebony lengths smooth. As she brushed her hair she began sorting out her thoughts- her mind remarkably clearer since the bath.
If Isis was here in Japan then it meant that her brother was also somewhere in this country; possibly even in this city. In any case, wherever he was, he was looking for her.
Isis set the brush down and studied her reflection in the mirror again. The image hadn't changed since the last time she had looked except the girl that stared back was serious, determined.
The Kaiba mansion was not home- her real home didn't exist anymore. But for now it was safe.
---
Tariq tugged on his right sleeve with his teeth, struggling to button the wrist. With the other hand he tapped on the keyboard, completing his homemade employee profile. It was a precaution – should anybody investigate the new face around the Kaiba mansion. But with some luck it wouldn't be necessary; hopefully he'd blend in.
He stopped typing and double-clicked, uploading the information to the main staff database. As his computer hacked its way in, he buttoned the wrist of the white long sleeved shirt and then shrugged on his jacket.
The faux information was a precaution but a flimsy one. If anyone really pursued it they'd find that the references were a hoax and then Tariq would be in deep shit.
Tariq turned up the freshly starched collar and began tying his necktie. After the knot was secure he turned the collar back down and fixed it. Then he checked for his newly printed employee ID.
This was risky as hell but it was a lot better than his other alternative.
He smoothed his jacket, slipped on his shades and checked his reflection in a mirror on his way out.
Another Kaiba Corp suit, ready for duty.
---
Isis emerged from the bathroom, clean, refreshed and in a slightly calmer state of mind. She went over to the bed and ran a hand over the lavender spread. Since she had gone in the bathroom, someone had come and made up the bed. She shook her head in disbelief, causing a few black strands to graze her face. Unreal.
Now that her mind was considerably clearer, she could actually start thinking rationally again.
Isis studied the bedroom. When she woke up this morning, she was wearing pajamas. Which meant that her own clothes were somewhere in this house. Hopefully within this room.
She took in the room from left to right. Curtains, table, bed, door, dresser…
Yes.
Isis went to the bureau and yanked the top drawer open by its brass handle. It was empty except for a neatly folded linen garment lying near the back of the drawer. She picked it up and the dress fell to its full length again her. Isis clutched it to her chest, grateful for the familiar feeling of her own clothes. Cradling the dress with her left arm, she peered into the drawer again.
Gold.
Thank God, she thought and dropped the dress to pick up the jewelry. Her armbands…her earrings…headpiece…hairbands…She reached the end of the jewelry pile where one last hairband lay.
The necklace was missing.
She pushed the drawer shut and her mind began working overtime, producing quick, rapid, broken thoughts.
My brother must have it-They must have taken it when they kidnapped me. If he has it then-
The bedroom door clicked open softly. Isis whirled around to see the younger Kaiba brother standing in the doorway.
"Back."
The girl smiled in relief. He had almost given her a heart attack. "Welcome back," she replied, as he came up next to her.
"So what're you doing?" Mokuba questioned, tilting his head to the side.
"Just looking at my stuff." Isis paused. "Ano…Is this everything?"
A puzzled expression crossed Mokuba's face. "It should be." He bent and retrieved her dress from the floor and held it out to her. "Why? Is something missing?"
"Thank you." She accepted the dress from him and thought quickly. "No, it's just that I don't see all of my hair things here." She showed him the ones sitting on top of the bureau. "There should be one more."
He glanced at the jewelry, a slight wrinkle forming in his forehead as he thought. "Really? It should be there." He pulled the drawer open and stuck a small tanned hand inside. He felt around for a few minutes then withdrew his hand, grinning. In his palm was the small golden circle.
"It must have rolled to the back," Mokuba said, offering it to her.
"Thank goodness! I thought I had lost it." She smiled, feeling horribly guilty for lying to the boy, even if it was only a small fib. Carefully she placed the ornaments back in the drawer along with the refolded dress.
"You found the clothes," Mokuba noted, taking in her appearance for the first time. He looked her up and down, causing Isis to glance down at the outfit. She wore a pair of comfortable blue jeans that flared slightly to the bottom and a white t-shirt with a brand name she didn't recognize written across the chest. On her feet were plain white ankle socks.
"Well, the closet was kind of hard to miss…"
The younger boy shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, it was nothing. And Isis realized to him it probably was.
"So, are you ready for a tour of the house?"
"I guess so," Isis answered, not having much of a choice as Mokuba put his hand in hers and led her through the door.
---
The man strode purposefully up to the large iron wrought gates. Two guards were sitting in a small booth, composed of wood and glass. Through their dark sunglasses, they spared him a quick glance. A voice crackled through the intercom.
"ID?"
He pulled the small laminated card out of his jacket and held it up to the glass. One gave it a brief once over then nodded to the gate operator.
"He's clear. Let him in."
With a push of a button, the iron doors swung open slowly and he stepped through them. He walked up the driveway swiftly until he arrived at the front entrance of the mansion. Before he could knock or do anything, the double doors soundlessly opened.
As he entered the building, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a tiny security camera directed at the thick wooden doors. He made a quick mental note of it.
Watch for cameras, he thought to himself.
Tariq scanned the interior of the house from behind the safety of his dark mirrored shades. Four floors, he noted. Virtually empty except for the occasional household staff member disappearing and reappearing. He should be able to take a quick look around the building unnoticed.
He walked across the marble floor, listening to the soft sharp tapping of his black polished shoes as they echoed into the stillness of the room. Somehow he knew that if he looked down he'd be able to see his own reflection in the floor. For a moment he was seized by the urge to do so- to look down- but he resisted and remained in character.
So this was it, the home of the famed Kaiba Seto. It was a beautiful building- an architectural triumph, furnished with priceless articles from the shimmering crystal chandeliers that hung from the high ceilings to the hand-woven carpets that lay on the marble flooring. It was the kind of place that was fit for walking around in and admiring, not one in which people would touch and laugh and talk and live.
Even the silence that pervaded the house seemed fragile. Despite his twenty-six years, the silence made him feel like a child; small and afraid. He clenched his teeth. Time to stop being stupid and figure out-
"Hey! You!"
Tariq turned at the sound of the brusque voice to see a graying, slightly heavyset man walking towards him.
"Security, right?" Not waiting for a response or even bothering to look at Tariq, he continued. "Second floor- east wing." Then his features twisted into a frown. He moved past the younger man, talking in abrupt undertones through his wire.
And so it begins…
Tariq cast another quick glance around the room then listened to the soft clicks of his shoes as he made his way to the staircase.
---
It wasn't a house she was in, Isis had realized ten rooms ago. It was huge and beautiful but it couldn't possibly be a house.
"And this is my room," Mokuba said, opening yet another door.
Isis stepped inside and looked around. The room was outfitted with elegant mahogany bookcases that showcased volumes of hardcover leather-bound books. Historical paintings lined the walls and neat bonsais sat on strategically placed low end tables. She moved further inside and picked up a book that had been left open on a desk. Fujiwara Teika.
It was a peaceful room; save a few modern touches, what she had always envisioned a traditional Japanese room to look like. However, it didn't seem fit for a somewhat reckless eleven year old boy. Isis glanced down at the kanji covered pages in her hands.
"This is your room?" She arched an eyebrow at him doubtfully.
Mokuba grinned mischievously, caught. "Nah, it's one of Seto's."
"Seto?"
"Yeah, Nii-sama. You met him, remember?"
Oh yes. That Seto.
The memory of their meeting came back to her all at once and immediately warmth flooded her face. Gently, Isis placed the book back where she had found it. She took in the room again, this time with a different perspective.
So Seto sat in here? She tried to picture him sitting at this desk, head bent as he read Teika. She could see him deep in thought, brown hair grazing his forehead as the morning light fell on his face, casting soft shadows above his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes…
Quickly, Isis reined in her mind, taking control of her thoughts. Fleetingly, she thought of something.
"Should we even be in here? I mean, won't he-"
"Be mad?" Mokuba nodded. "Yeah, if he catches us in here he'll be furious." Her tour-guide seemed unconcerned with having to deal with an angry older brother.
Isis, however, was not so easily reassured. "Okay, we can move on now."
No sooner had the words left her mouth, there was a knock on the door. Heart pounding wildly, she turned.
At the door was not the elder Kaiba as she had feared, but a much shorter, meeker looking maid. The small woman bowed slightly and addressed them. "Excuse me, miss, but I've come to escort you to Dr. Gensai, upon the request of Kaiba-sama."
Isis knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. "Doctor?"
The maid offered a slight smile. "Just as a precaution, miss. You did spend quite a bit of time in the rain last night."
Unsure, Isis glanced at Mokuba. He nodded. "Go. We can finish the tour later."
"But-"
There was no room left for arguments as the maid took Isis by the arm – with amazing strength considering her size – and led her down the hall. She looked over her shoulder and Mokuba was watching her go, a faint hint of a smile on his face.
---
Kaiba leaned back into the soft leather of his chair until his head met the headrest. Absently he made it move, swiveling gently from side to side. The light from the computer screens cast an eerie glow on the walls and vaguely he wondered again why it was always so dark in here.
He was bored.
It was something he was used to- being bored. He'd just wait until something happened then it'd pass. He sighed.
A faint buzz came from the speaker near the door. Not looking or moving he pressed a button near the keyboard. "What is it?"
"Sir, Dr. Gensai."
Kaiba sat up sharply and walked to the door. It slid open automatically, revealing a tall woman in a lab coat. She held out a disk in a thin case to him. Less than graciously he accepted it and the door shut itself.
He made his way back into his chair and slipped the disk into the drive. The system hummed softly and the contents of the CD appeared on the screen.
He clicked impatiently and a myriad of windows opened up. Charts, numbers and figures cluttered each window. With a slight look of interest, he browsed through them one by one.
Forlornly the CD case lay on the desk, its title etched out in marker.
RESULTS OF MEDICAL EXAMINATION: ISIS
---
Tariq walked around the second floor of the mansion, trying not to look as lost as he actually was. He cast a quick glance at his watch. The digital numbers blinked at him. 2:07.
For the past 2 hours he'd been wandering around this damn house and he still hadn't seen the damn girl. And he was damn hungry.
Pitifully, his stomach growled.
Okay…Let's try downstairs again…Near the kitchen…
He turned in what he hoped was the direction of the stairs. He took two steps then stopped.
She was coming out of a room, gently closing the door behind her. She looked around in bewilderment- obviously not the only one confused by the Kaiba mansion.
She wasn't as extraordinary as he would have imagined her to be, he thought as he studied her in the daylight.
Her long dark hair fell over her shoulders in a loose braid. The braid swished with the movement of her head as she peered down the long hallway. Dressed in jeans and a shirt there was nothing that would have distinguished her from anyone else. She looked like a normal girl. But although he didn't know exactly why, he knew that she was of value to a few very important people. People who decided whether he lived or died.
She turned around.
And it occurred to Tariq, three seconds too late, that he probably should not have let her see him.
---
As I look about,
Neither flowers nor autumn-tinted leaves
Near the grass-thatched hut
That stands alone by the shore.
The autumn dusk.
Fujiwara no Teika (1162-1241)
---
AN:
Chapter 4! -hides her head in shame- This was kind of later than planned -.-;; But it wasn't my fault- I had the chapter all written out and everything but my computer (bless its soul) died. So blame the lack of update on the death of my computer- not I. But the next chapter WILL up soon- its almost finished…
-holds up three fingers- Promise!
Let me know what you think- criticisms, compliments, condolences- all accepted. Kisses to everyone that has been reviewing and chocolate for new reviewers!
And as always, I own nothing- not YGO, Kaiba Seto, Isis or even Fujiwara no Teika. Much love,
Stolen Kisses