Tradition

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Ryuniyo

a/n: Another short KaiJou. Attacked me viciously in the middle of the night…2 years ago. Totally forgot I had this. Enjoy.

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Looking over at the clock Seto stifled a yawn and waits patiently. Any moment now the one thing he had been anticipating the entire day—his constant life line, his one small comfort that remains steady and true despite the hectic day. A tradition.

Ring.

There it is.

Ring.

He too must abide by tradition.

Ring.

Once more.

Ring.

Seto calmed his voice, it would not do to sound as if he had been anxiously waiting like some love stricken school girl. Breath once, breath twice.

"Kaiba speaking."

Plain and nonchalant. No expectation, no particular display on emotion, the same, a constant, that which is expected.

"Hey."

"How was your day?"

"Hectic."

Seto couldn't help the small sliver of weariness creep out.

"Aren't all your days like that?"

A warming peal of laughter, it ignites a small smile on Seto's face. It's okay, after all he can't see it.

"You're smiling."

"And how do you know that?" Seto lazily drawls out, pretending that the comment was completely wrong and not worth much thought.

Silence.

"I can hear it."

Seto is stunned. Not at the reply but at the warmth and affection that sweeps through from the other end.

A moment of silence, and then:

"Silly pup."

A small murmur of agreement filters through to Seto's ear.

"Miss you."

Seto remains silent. It's by their unwritten tradition that he does not reply—he never does. It's tradition.

"School was a pain today. I got up late and had to sprint if I wanted to make it on time—which I didn't. We got a new student today, from Osaka I think. He was pretty lanky and tall and looked pretty awkward. I think his name was Takashi and he had the coolest accent. It was—"

Seto's mind let go of the words and simply listened to just the voice. Warm, soothing, familiar. Constant and rhythmic, a tradition to hear at the end of the day. Seto allowed himself to relax and curl up loosely on top of the bed. He closed his eyes and the first serene smile he had at all that day slowly blossomed on his face. This was his tradition—no, this was their tradition. A phone call everyday, 9'oclock sharp. Joey is late for most things, but he's never late for this…and Seto, despite hectic schedules and plans always makes time for these phone calls—no matter where he is. Rome, New York, China, France. Time zones can be an annoyance and an obstacle but they don't get in the way—Seto makes sure they never get in the way. Because it's tradition: the one thing that is constant and gets him through the day. Tradition.

There is silence on the other end now; no more words, just relaxed breathing. In two more minutes, Joey will say goodnight. For ten seconds after those two minutes, Joey will wait for a reply. For two heartbeats, Seto will close his eyes and wish he wasn't halfway across the world, hours away, holding on to his cell phone when he would much rather hold onto someone with honey eyes, a warm smile, and a sleepy voice waiting for him to end the call. That is tradition.

Two minutes go by.

"I love you."

And sometimes, traditions are meant to be broken… and another one takes it place.

"I love you, too."