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The lights were low in the lounge at La Guardia. Seto Kaiba ran his finger along the edge of his glass of 7&7 while he listened to muted conversation and some halfway decent Bach while waiting for his pilot to clear the KC jet's flight plan. He was on his way to Japan for six days. Six days out of the country. It wasn't unreasonable, Seto probably had to leave New York on business every other month. It had just... never mattered before now. Before Tristan. Which was useless because there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't sure he wanted to do anything about it. Seto was firecely proud of his company, and his role within it. He was good at what he did; most of his identity was wrapped around being the driving force behind KaibaCorp. Still, it was going to be a long six days. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The day after Seto leaves, Tristan gets a small, padded envelope in the mail which contains a key ring with a remote and two keys, along with the following note in Seto's sprawling cursive: Tristan, I thought you might want to use the house while I was gone, or the garage. The left button is for the gates, the right opens the main garage. I know my bit of New Rochelle isn't exactly commuter friendly, so if you want to use the Lexus the keys are on the hook right inside the house door. The large key is for the front door, the smaller one opens the side garage. I've got the only other key to that, so anything you put there should be safe enough. Feel free to use the pool or anything else you want. The staff will be coming in on Tuesday and Thursday, so don't feel like you need to go over there if you don't want to. I simply wanted you to have the option. The keys are yours. Seto * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Items in Seto's garment bag: 3 suits, one each black, grey and pinstripe. 5 dress shirts, various primary colors, 5 contrasting ties. 2 casual dress shirts, one brown one green. 1 polo shirt, blue. 2 pair slacks, one black, one grey. 2 pair of dress shoes, black. 1 pair of dress boots, black. 1 tshirt, with a picture of tiger eyes looking out of jungle foliage. Socks, underwear, various toiletries (toothbrush, comb, cologne, etc.) 3 pair cufflinks, one solid silver, one monogram, one sapphire. 3 tie tacks, one sapphire, one willow tree, one solid silver. Items in Seto's briefcase: 3 versions of two different contracts. 2 legal pads. 4 pens, 2 mechanical pencils. 1 prototype datapad. 2 framed woodcuts, 1 personalized autographed Pamela Anderson photograph, 1 vintage Cocoa Cola sign, all business gifts. Unadorned double key ring with 17 keys. 1 cell phone. 4 Business cards from NYC Custom Mortorcycles, one of which has a phone number scrawled across the back. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The following message is left on Tristan's answering machine the fourth night into Seto's trip: Hi Tristan. This time difference is aggravating. I didn't think you'd be home yet but I thought I'd take the chance. I'm going out with Namada-san tonight so I won't be around later. 5 second pause I know we've talked by email but it's not the same thing, really. 4 second pause Japan's very different from the States. There's a different pace here, a different rhythm. A different soul if you will. There are places where you can walk from Tokyo's urban sprawl to an almost mideval countryside, within ten minutes. small pause Have you ever been out of the States? We should go to Paris.. or maybe Italy... Venice? Germany, you'd... 10 second pause Sorry. slight pause, inhale I'll be back on Thursday afternoon, maybe we could get together that evening? Email me. click of disconnect * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The plane had been in the air to New York less than an hour before Seto started checking his watch. After the second time, he firmly opened his laptop to peruse the final version of the documents he'd obtained. The trip had been an unqualified business success. Personally, it had been a nightmare. Seto reached up to touch the metal tags on the chain he wore openly now. Except when he'd been conducting business, Seto had them where he could touch them; it was almost a compulsion to reassure himself they were still there, the connection was still there. It was stupid and useless and he did it anyway. Giving up at the attempt to make any sense of the information after looking at the same paragraph for a solid ten minutes, Seto closed the laptop and checked his watch again. It was going to be a long flight. Back to Sorchafyre's Work E-mail the Author Home |
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