The Mirror in one man's Soul


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My 'father' once told me that an office has to reflect its occupant, not the occupant reflecting the office. It's a word of advice I live by, as much as I loathe to admit that I actually still apply most of the principles and the mentality Kaiba Gozaburo has taught me. For what the bastard was worth, he did educate me well about the finest details of dealing with corporate business- not that I wouldn't be able to maintain my status as CEO of KaibaCorp on my own, of course.

Some of his ideas have flaws, though- it's all a matter of interpretation. To any business man, my office reflects the harshness of the soul of Kaiba Seto: cold, efficient, strict, devoid of anything but the to be achieved goals. To Mutou Yuugi, my office reflects the coldness of the heart of Kaiba Seto: cold in the most broad sense of the word, empty and hollow.

He's lying on the floor, chewing on the end of his pencil, textbooks surrounding him. He frowns; it's a very complicated calculus project he's working on. He plucks at the rug- the only rug in the room, one color, thick enough to sink shin-deep in-, completely caught up in his concentration. Behind him, on the single couch of my office- leather, no cushions-, sits his spitting image. It's his other half, his Dark, his... whatever Yuugi calls him. He doesn't have a name... he doesn't remember his name. The only thing I know about him is that he's been a Pharaoh, and that I supposedly have dueled against him three millennia ago.

It's a load of nonsense. I don't care about my past- I destroyed my past single-handedly at Alcatraz. Not exactly according to what I had in mind, but sufficient enough to sever those strings that would've hold me back. I hate it that I lost to him, to Yuugi, to his other half... and I haven't won anything back in return. Well, maybe something. His affection? His friendship? Why else would he be on the floor of my executive office, where everybody else enters with shaking and wobbly knees, because they know that heads are going to roll? Being invited to my office means being scolded, torn a new one, or reproached about something. If you're lucky, you'll leave my office alive- and if you're really lucky, you'll leave my office alive and without being fired.

I hear Yuugi chuckling; probably about something his other half said. I wonder why- the Pharaoh has hardly any sense of humor and I'm hesitant to start a conversation with him, lest I want to be literally bored to death by one of his speeches. It doesn't really help that he's right about some things; little things, not important things- but it takes him freakin' hours to reach a simple conclusion. He would do great on the annual board meetings, though; everybody would practically beg me to agree with every new proposition just to keep from listening to him. A small chuckle escapes me as well.

"Do you want to join in on the fun, Kaiba?" The Pharaoh addresses me directly, and I refrain from showing any surprise on my face. He hardly speaks to me either, especially after our latest duel. Battle City was supposed to be my tournament, my return to the spotlights... and not to lose my God Card to a pompous overzealous twit. Yuugi looks up from his homework; large, bright eyes shimmering at me. Friendly, open, welcoming eyes, so unlike the slanted, narrow, almost rebuking eyes of his other half. The only warmth in the Pharaoh's eyes is destined for Yuugi; not for me. Not that I care.

"Do you, Kaiba-kun?" Yuugi straightens himself, stretching. He's been on that rug for over an hour and he bends his back a little, hands pressed against his sides.

"I don't wish to be involved with what you think is funny." I lower my head, lacing my fingers together and pretend to read something off my laptop screen.

Silence reigns, but not for long- the next thing I hear, is his voice close to my ear.

"Don't be so grouchy, Kaiba-kun. We were just joking a little bit."

"Good for you."

I ignore his hand on my chest. The spreadsheet displayed on my laptop has long lost my attention and interest; the latest sales figures are most promising anyway. I don't need to look at my other side, because I already know the Pharaoh will be standing there, watching me and weighing my every word. If I utter something that he deems harmful to his precious little Yuugi, he'll let me know- not that I'm intimidated by him. Not at all. I just wish he wouldn't look at me like that, and that he didn't have that air about him- that air about being taller than me, about outclassing me, even though he talks to my elbow if we're standing next to each other. His regal composure and attitude somehow outshines me, -no, not intimidate me- and maybe that's why I'm more attracted to Yuugi than to him.

Attracted? No. That's not the right word. Attached... no, drawn? I'm more drawn to Yuugi than to the Pharaoh. Yuugi's other half is the buffer between us, a wall of protection, a boundary that I have to cross. He has subsided though, when he saw that Yuugi apparently was returning the... whatever I feel for him. Do I feel for him? I do notice that I'm breathing a little different when his fingers slips between the buttons of my shirt. He has small hands, and his fingers feel a little cold on my skin. I still pretend not to be interested, my fingers firmly laced together, leaning on the desk.

Both of them never uttered the sickening sweet words of 'love' and 'care' in reference to me. Whenever they're with me, they keep conversation fairly neutral. School, music, latest fashion, the news, the weather. I know there's something deeper going on between them, but that was to be expected, I guess. I'm not jealous- it's more like a two for one deal, and didn't my 'father' taught me how to get the most out of a deal?

"Seto," Yuugi whispers in my ear, and presses with his hand against my chest. Physically he's not able to move me, considering our height and weight difference, but he's able to move me with just one word. My name. I lean back into the chair, my hands slipping from each other. My lips part before I realize it, and he uses it to his advantage. He kisses me, soft lips pressed on mine. His kiss is different from the Pharaoh's- when his dark half kisses me, it's short and harsh, as if he wants to keep the contact to a minimum. I never actually wondered about that; and it's not becoming of a businessman to not know everything about his opponents. His rivals. They still are my rivals; they've beaten me with the card game, and they've beaten me in my office.

It's funny really- at the moment Yuugi sits down on my lap, straddling me, the Pharaoh reaches for his arm as if he wants to stabilize Yuugi. I don't think there's a boundary to their bond, and even though they are mirror images of themselves, their souls aren't. The protectiveness radiating from the Pharaoh almost overshadows Yuugi's careful, gentle kindness shown towards everyone. Yuugi's open and inviting behavior is the opposite of the Pharaoh's unapproachable character. Extremities, or mirroring each other? No, when they'd mirror each other they wouldn't be this opposite. Opposite, and the same yet again... my thoughts almost get cut off when he slips his tongue into my mouth. I refrain from moaning. I won't show weakness in front of them, I won't. Keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer. It's not true and I know it- not the expression, but that they're my enemies. They're my rivals, sort of enemies- I have to think of them as my opponents, before I lose myself too much in this... in this what they are showing me.

This is not the first time, nor will it be the last. My mind is shutting down rapidly, as I want nothing but to indulge myself into the kiss, nothing but to be ravaged and touched. My shirt's being unbuttoned; it's not Yuugi, as he cups my face with both his hands while he deepens the kiss. I tilt my head a little, bringing up my hands to touch him- anyone of him. The Pharaoh doesn't mind to watch, because he'll watch over Yuugi, not over me. I don't feel forced by his presence, I don't consider him a witness to my weakness being exposed. He and Yuugi are one and the same, yet not quite; because when the Pharaoh touches me, he always feels warm, and his touches are always confident and well-placed, while Yuugi always takes the time to explore, to discover, as if every time is the first time.

I shrug out of my shirt, noticing that I respond with desperation to Yuugi's kiss. He's beaten me over and over again, why am I doing this? I should loathe him, hate him...but he's the only one that manages to keep me on my toes, to provide me with a challenge, to dare me to give my very best time and time again. I lean into his touch, allowing him to do with me as he wants to –weakness, weakness, weakness- but such a delightful weakness. His dark half has removed my shirt, lazily tracing circles on my upper arm while Yuugi has placed his hands on my chest, stroking. He'll patiently wait until Yuugi indicates it's time for the next step; whether that'll be taking off my pants or pulling up his shirt. I don't know why the Pharaoh lowers himself to be a servant in this matter; he only needs one little thing –a change in breathing, a different blink with his eye-, to fulfill his Yuugi's needs.

Maybe that's why. He's so concentrated on Yuugi that he even goes through with this just to make and to keep him happy. We've never spoken about an official relationship, never uttered the words of love and compassion and care- still, this is more than just plain lust and desire. I arch my back, drawing up my leg a little; and I see the Pharaoh's hands move, long, slender fingers crossing my eyesight, while he helps Yuugi discard his shirt. Mirrors... for some reason, mirrors are stuck in my head. Is it because of them? Is it because of what they reflect, how they are extremities, but yet perfectly complement and balance each other?

A moan escapes me, my weakness fully exposed. I think I stopped caring about that too; they're the only ones around now, and they won't tell that Kaiba Seto likes to give away his control when he's being kissed. I have a company to lead, I have decisions to make, I have responsibilities and obligations to fulfill. Sometimes... sometimes it just feels good to leave control for what it is, and surrender... no, temporary submit to one another's control. Beaten again. Yuugi's not the one to gloat about it- I briefly wonder if he even understands that it's all about a matter of interpretation. This is where his dark half understands me better, and maybe that's why he’s serving Yuugi now, taking off his neck collar. He's a mirror. Not to Yuugi. To me.

I arch my back, longing for more touches, wanting to feel more. The Pharaoh brushes my hair with his hands, saying something to Yuugi every now and then. I can't understand them; they only need half a word to exactly know what the other want. I don't care, I don't mind- I've lost myself anyway already. Yuugi's hands slide lower, fingers hooking in the waistband of my pants. It'll be a matter of seconds before his dark half will unfasten my belt. I moan again as Yuugi shifts a little, on purpose, making my body respond. His fingers press against my skin with quite some force, and his lips find mine again; the kiss soft and gentle again, but determined, and uncontestable. It's of no use fighting- and did I ever fight him, considering this?- and I give in. I submit. I understand what he's showing me now. He's a mirror. Not to his dark half. To me.

They're the mirror in my soul. Unapproachable, open, dominating, submitting, harsh, tender, dark, light. It's all a matter of interpretation, and I chose to interpret it like this.



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