Chapter Text
You did your best to ignore everyone looking at you and strode after Seto as gracefully as you could manage, Sakurai hovering just behind you. The plush carpet seemed to pull at your shoes, so you mentally chanted, ‘don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip,’ which helped keep your mind off all of the eyes and flashing lights around you. The photographers called for Seto to stop, but he ignored them, and you did the same.
It seemed an age, but eventually, you reached the doors, which were opened for you by uniformed employees. The scene they revealed nearly dropped your jaw.
The entire front lobby was bright. The white marble floor and walls threw back the light of two eight-foot chandeliers. The walls held long, abstract works of art. The plush carpet continued in one straight line towards a wall of double doors at the back. More uniformed employees prowled the floor holding trays with drinks. None of this, in itself, would surprise you anymore. It was the people who made the biggest impact.
No matter where you looked, you recognized someone famous. Actors, TV personalities, top athletes, politicians, and leaders of business were all mingling in large groups, talking and laughing. Although you had gathered that this was an event for the upper crust, you hadn’t been prepared for it to be to this extent.
Quickly, you made sure that your face didn’t reveal how star-struck you were. “What is this—” you started to ask Seto, but he had already taken off and had joined a group in the middle of the room, shaking hands with someone you recognized from the local television station.
Sakurai leaned in. “This location is pretty secure so I won’t be hovering. I’ll check in with event security, but then I’ll hang back,” he said, indicating a corner where a few other security guards seemed to be observing the room. “Just look my way if you need me.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you said, archly. He winked and left you, too.
You felt self-conscious. You didn’t know any other guests well enough to approach. For now, you grabbed a random drink off a passing employee’s tray. Most everyone else was holding one, and this would give you a minute to decide how to proceed. Taking a small sip, you glanced around the room, looking for some opening to do more than stand awkwardly by yourself. Seto had moved on to another group, next to a marble swan in the middle of the room.
As you looked, your eyes met with someone in the small group closest to you. Her eyebrows went up, and she nudged the man next to her. You slid your eyes away, acting as though you didn’t notice her notice, but caught that they detached themselves from their group and headed your way.
“Pardon me,” said the woman you’d made eye contact with, and you turned from your perusal of the closest artwork. “I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Yuri Miyaguni. And this is my fiancé, Shohei Shimokawa.”
They were both in their mid-twenties and dressed as extravagantly as anyone else. You introduced yourself and inclined your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Seto move across the room. Then, one of their names sparked a memory. “Shohei Shimokawa, heir to the Hontiko Group?” Shimokawa grinned and nodded his head. You looked at his friend expectantly.
“My father is the director of the Domino City General Hospital,” said Yuri. “We heard about the incident a few weeks ago. That was an absolutely horrible thing to go through. You seem like you’re doing well.”
So that was how they recognized you. “Yes, I am. I’m usually not very good with hospitals, but everyone was so helpful and kind at DC General that I wasn’t uneasy at all. My compliments to your father.”
She waved away the compliments with a laugh. “Oh, he didn’t do anything.”
You smiled awkwardly, unsure of the appropriate response.
Shimokawa nudged her with an elbow, and she sobered. “Of course, I’ll pass that along,” she assured you. “He’ll be happy to hear that you had a good experience.”
“So, are you a fan of couture fashion?” asked Shimokawa.
“No, I haven’t had the opportunity to get into it,” you replied. So, this was a fashion event after all. It would have been nice to know; you could have done a little research so you didn’t look like an idiot. “How about the both of you?”
Yuri’s eyes lit up. “I only keep up with what’s in season, but Shohei-kun here is a real aficionado. He knows all about the differences in design houses, what sort of references to past fashion eras the designers are using, all that stuff. It’s a shame his family only deals with small appliances; he would have been great at this.”
Shimokawa blushed and waved his hand as if warding off the compliment. “It’s only a hobby.”
“Well,” you said, “You know infinitely more than I. I have to confess that I even came here without knowing what kind of event it was.”
“Even though you’re wearing the latest Miitzunii?”
“Is that who this is?” you asked, inspecting the fabric as if it had the logo emblazoned. To your horror, it was indeed printed along the hem. “Oh.”
“That’s okay,” Yuri jumped in reassuringly. “I didn’t recognize it either. And lots of people just see ‘high-profile event’ and come to show their faces to the photographers. Oh,” she said quickly, “not that I think that’s why you’re here! You don’t seem the type to need that kind of attention.”
In fact, Seto had brought you here precisely so that the photographers could see you, but it wasn’t quite the same thing. “No, I rather try to avoid it. But the president of my company thought I needed a little more socialization. So here I am.”
“What are you, a feral cat?” laughed Yuri. “He needs to socialize you so that you do not hiss at anyone who gets too close?”
“And it’s working. I haven’t swiped at you a single time,” you said, flexing your fingers like claws.
“Watch out,” warned Shimokawa lightly. “Yuri-chan can’t leave stray cats alone; she’ll be taking you home before you know it.”
“Stray cats, maybe,” admitted Yuri. “However, I feel like this cat already has someone looking after her,” she said archly, looking behind you.
“The doors are opening,” said Seto as you turned. “It’s time to take our seats.” He gave Yuri and Shimokawa the barest of nods.
“It’s been lovely talking to you, Miyaguni-s—”
“Yuri-chan!”
You smiled. “Yuri-chan and Shimokawa-san. Let’s talk again.”
Yuri pulled out her phone. “Let’s exchange LINE!”
Seto cleared his throat, but you ignored him, pulling out your own phone. After you had exchanged information, you sent her a cat sticker.
You parted ways, following Seto down the carpet through the doors at the back of the room. They led into a large, dark space filled with chairs. The only light came from spotlights centered on a long dais that ran to the middle of the room and ended in a circle. Clearly a runway.
Seto led the way to a pair of seats right next to the runway, right where the dais connected to the circle. He indicated for you to sit in one seat and took the one to its left.
“Front row?”
He nearly rolled his eyes at you. “Why should any of this surprise you at this point?”
“I don’t know, maybe because you tell me as little as possible about what’s going on.”
Now he really did roll his eyes. Then, without missing a beat, Seto snatched a paper out of the hand of a man walking in front of your seats. The man looked astonished, but when Seto acknowledged him no further, he simply sighed and turned back the way he had come.
“Here,” said Seto blandly, passing his prize over to you without looking at it. “Information.”
The paper was a program. It listed the designers, in what order they would go in, as well as any important themes or famous models that would be featured. It kept you occupied until loud music started and the show began.
The show was incredible. It was a mix between artistic pieces that defied the common sense of what clothing is and how it should be worn, and lines that were closer to what the common person would wear going about their lives. The music was too loud, and the stage lights too bright, but it was intensely interesting.
Afterwards, after the designers had said a few words, people started to file out of their seats. Seto stood as well, clearly ready to leave.
“This says that there is an afterparty for anyone with a Priority 2 ticket or above,” you said leadingly. “What ticket did we have?”
Seto narrowed his eyes at you. “VIP.”
“An after-party sounds fun. I might be able to catch up with Yuri-chan again.” His eyes narrowed even further. “Maybe even make other friends? Then I wouldn’t have to burden you and Mokuba so much.”
He studied you for a long moment, and you tried to look as unbothersome as possible. “Fine,” he ground out. “We’ll go to the after-party. " If only so you can find someone else to bring you to these things.”
“As if I asked for you to drag me out here.”
He arched a brow at you. “Are you complaining?”
“No,” you said before he changed his mind. You quickly gathered your stuff and sped off to find Sakurai.
The party was at an exclusive club downtown, but your fashion show tickets were readily accepted. You had almost expected a dance club, but this seemed to be a social club, not unlike the one that the KaibaCorp Duel Monster tournament afterparty was held in. Many of the same faces from the fashion show were here, as well as the designers and models.
“I will warn you now,” said Seto, “I do not have endless amounts of patience. If I get too annoyed, we leave. If you do not behave, we will leave. If I want to leave for any reason, we leave. Understood?”
“Can’t you just order a car?” You really didn’t want your evening to be cut short just because someone breathed a little too loudly in his vicinity.
“Why should I, when there’s a driver here?” Seto indicated Sakurai, as if it were obvious.
“Oh, of course,” you said sarcastically, but he had already walked off. You turned to Sakurai. “Are you going, too?”
“Negative, my dear boss. This is an unsecured location. I stick with you.”
“Great. It will be so easy to make friends with a creep hanging around behind my shoulder.” Speaking of, you were going to look for Yuri. Keeping an eye on the crowd, you made your way over to the bar for a better vantage point.
After you ordered something, you turned to try to survey the room. You could see neither her nor Shimokawa. You pulled out your phone.
“It was nice to meet you,” you typed. “Did you enjoy the show?”
After a minute, she responded, “It was fun! Shohei-kun hasn’t shut up about it, even after we got home.”
Ah, so they weren’t here after all. “I’m afraid I didn’t understand a lot of it; we should meet up sometime, and he can tell me all about it.”
“Sounds good! I’ll contact you.”
You put your phone away slowly, enthusiasm for the evening gone. Now you’d have to start from the beginning and make introductions with someone. Wouldn’t it have been nice if Seto could have hung around long enough to facilitate something? But no, there he was in a corner, typing furiously on his traveling keyboard that he synced with his phone.
So now it was just you and the heavy-breathing Sakurai who hovered behind your shoulder. Immediately behind. He shifted slightly and bumped into you.
Instinctively, you snapped your elbow back, catching him in the midriff. “Don’t touch me,” you ordered. He clicked his tongue but moved back a step.
“Wow, is everything okay?” someone asked next to you.
You turned to see two men in their twenties or early thirties. They were wearing street clothes, but you did recognize them as luxury brands. “My friend is just being a little annoying,” you explained and grabbed your order from the bartender. When you turned back, you caught them looking at Sakurai with concern.
He chuckled. “I’m where I want to be, gentlemen.”
“Right, well,” began the tall one on the left, “We saw that you came in with Seto Kaiba.”
“Yes, I work for Kaiba Corporation.”
The one on the right elbowed his friend. “I told you, this is the rumored COO! We’ve read about you in the papers. You’re a lot prettier in person.”
Did they mean that your picture had been bad? It was probably an attempt at a compliment, so you occupied yourself with sipping your drink.
“We were curious; the articles didn’t mention that you were married. Did they leave that out, or...?”
Was this an attempt at flirting? “No, I’m not married.”
The men exchanged a look that you couldn’t decipher. “So, then you’re related to the Kaibas somehow? Like a cousin, or an in-law?”
“Nope. I started working for KaibaCorp just like anyone else and got a promotion.”
They smiled. “It’s really cool that you’ve climbed so high in the company without being related to the family,” said the one on the right.
“Ah, no,” you dissembled, feeling a little flattered, “I only tried to work hard.”
“Tried to work hard or tried for boss hard?” the tall one asked as they both sniggered, clearly pleased that you had walked into some sort of trap.
Oh. This again? How tiresome. Heat flared on the back of your neck and in your ears. “Jealousy is so ugly,” you sneered. “If you want to get in Seto Kaiba’s pants so badly, why don’t you go shoot your shot? He’s just over there.”
That caught them off guard. “Pf, w-why would we?” the one on the right sputtered.
“Well, you seem to have been thinking a lot about his dick and who gets to touch it. I don’t know the least thing about it, though. It would be much more expedient to ask him directly.” You looked over their shoulders and waved. “Kaiba-san!”
They paled, twisting to look where you were beckoning. “No! Don’t!”
“Shh!”
“Oh,” you said in understanding. “So you’re stupid enough to make insinuations but not strong enough to refute them when they’re about yourselves? Did you think there wouldn’t be consequences? Tell me,” you leaned in, ice clinking in your glass, “you wouldn’t happen to be members of KaibaCorp’s loyalty club, would you?”
They looked at you with wide eyes. “N-no. No, we’re not.”
“That’s good. Because if you were, I’d recommend you be banned. And not just from the loyalty club. From buying any KaibaCorp tech whatsoever.”
“You can’t do that,” the tall one said, tough but for the waver in his voice.
“I’m begging you to find out,” you said with a venomous grin.
“No, no.” They backed off, waving your threats away with their hands. “Just forget it; we’re out of here.” Then, they turned and fled.
“Best assignment ever,” murmured Sakurai.
“Do shut up,” you groaned, rubbing your forehead. “Let’s go get Kaiba-san. I didn’t come out here to be insulted.”
“Why did you come here, then?” asked a voice from beside the bar. You looked up to see Ryuji Terasoma, looking just as cool as he had been during the group date and wearing an outfit that looked familiar. “Was it to chase me?”
“Terasoma-san!” you exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t recognize me during the show? I’m hurt,” he said, not looking hurt in the least.
Now you knew where you had seen his outfit before. “You were modeling? I’m sorry, I completely missed you!” You pulled out the program from the show and flipped through it. “I’m sure I would have recognized your name.”
He chuckled. “No, I’m not famous enough to be in there,” he said, indicating the program. “And I was wearing a headdress that obscured my face. I didn’t really expect you to recognize me.”
“Oh, more teasing. Great.”
“I almost lost my footing,” he continued, glossing over your attitude. “You can’t imagine my surprise when I saw the cool girl from the group date sitting in the front row. In Miitzunii, no less! I think you were withholding a few things during our last meeting.”
Cool girl? “Me? What about you? Everyone was gushing about how you looked like a model, and you never once indicated that they were actually right!”
He shrugged. “That would kill the mood instantly. Everyone has so much fun haranguing me about it; I can’t just end it like that.”
“So, you admit that you like playing it cool and mysterious.”
Terasoma’s lips twitched. “I’m a model. You’re surprised that I like a little attention?”
“Oh, well, when you put it that way,” you admitted. “Are group dates part of how you get your fix? You didn’t seem like you were enjoying it that much.”
He grimaced slightly. “Decidedly not. I owed Egawa a favor, so he made me go.” He looked you up and down. “Back to you, though. Since you weren’t dressed as luxuriously as this during the date, somehow, I don’t think you were there to get attention.”
“I was there socially; I’m such a workaholic that I was hoping to get out of my comfort zone and make friends.”
Terasoma’s downturned eyes flicked to Sakurai, then down to your outfit, before searching your expression as he said, “And you don’t need a boyfriend because you already have Seto Kaiba.”
Your nerves, just barely calmed since the previous encounter, practically exploded. “WE. ARE. COLLEAGUES,” you hissed, just keeping yourself from yelling. “If even one more person insinuates that we’re together, or that I traded favors—”
Terasoma quickly held up his hands, warding off your tirade as he smiled. “Whoa, colleagues, got it, you’re not dating.”
You took a deep breath. “It gets old. Why can no one assume that I got my position on merit? Do I really come across as a scheming… hussy?”
He shook his head. “I, for one, will not be making that mistake again,” he said meaningfully. “I wasn’t insinuating anything; I had no idea you worked together. I just saw you sitting together at the show and wondered.”
Slightly repentant about your outburst, but still irritated, you dropped your tone but only admitted that you were “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Believe me,” he said, putting one hand on the bar so that he could lean next to you. “It’s the opposite of a disappointment.”
You flushed, unused to open flirting, and sipped your drink in response.
“So, in the group date, you said you worked for a gaming company. But you said that Kaiba was your colleague, not your boss. You have a position that’s difficult to obtain, or people wouldn’t keep assuming that you used underhanded methods. I’m guessing C-Suite.”
“COO,” you provided.
“COO of KaibaCorp? I knew you were cool. I just knew it,” he said, gazing at you steadily.
You squirmed a little, but it didn’t feel unpleasant. “Cool? You’re a model. I think everyone would agree that you’re the cool one.”
“Me? I go where my agency tells me, wear the clothes the designers put on me, and stand or walk where they tell me. I’m not making any decisions. Don’t get me wrong, it is a pretty cool job, and not just anyone can do it. But I’m not handling the operations of a major company.”
“It is a lot of work,” you admitted.
“Especially with Kaiba,” he said, tilting his head conspiratorially.
You narrowed your eyes at him a fraction. “Sounds like you know from experience. He’s modeled. Have you ever crossed paths with him?”
“Sure,” he said, turning to face the room and leaning back onto the bar with both elbows. “A handful of times here and there. It was… an experience.”
Curiosity piqued, you leaned in. “Oh, now you have to tell me.”
He leaned in, too, cupping his hand around his mouth like he was going to tell you a secret. “Maybe you should ask him yourself. He’s coming this way.”