The Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain

Author: Mother CHOW Goddess

Rating: R for swearing, violence, and attempted male/male rape (Shonen-Ai and/or Yaoi) SKxRB

Category: Yugioh, AU (post Battle City) Angst/Action

Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle City Tournament, life goes back to normal -- or as normal as possible. Unfortunately, Ryou Bakura is having a particularly bad day and when he crosses paths with Seto Kaiba it gets even worse, in ways that will change both lives... if they survive. First Person/Ryou's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Or any of the characters thereof. They belong to Kazuki Takahashi/ Shueisha Inc., FUNImation Productions, 4Kids, etc. Also, apologies to Bill Gates for taking his name in vain. Personally, I believe that Kaiba is 'that good', meh heh heh....

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Chapter 1:

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Today is not a good day.

As I trudge down the steps outside the main doors of Domino High School, I can think of only two good things about today. One, it's not raining; not yet, at least. And two, the school secretary Ms. Takahashi was kind enough to let me call Obata-sensei to let him know that I would not be able to attend what might end up being my last Kendo Club meeting after school today. Detention. Starts with 'D', as in the 'D-Minus' I received on last week's Grammar examination. I really have no excuse. I studied, yes, but couldn't concentrate because of a splitting headache. I even went to see the school nurse afterwards for a migraine shot, but it's still no excuse. Okay, three good things: because I was allowed to re-take the exam; just finished it, in fact. But if my retest score isn't high enough to maintain a 3.0 overall average I'll have to give up my extra-curricular activities until my grades improve. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but let's face it -- things haven't been normal around here for quite a while!

If I have to give up Kendo and my Aikido classes, I don't know what I'll do. Sometimes I think they're the only things keeping me sane, lately, in a world that seems to be overloaded with the insane. The students at the dojo are normal,ordinary boys and girls with normal, ordinary, every day lives that don't involve life and death Duel Monsters tournaments, reincarnated Egyptian sorcerers, possessive homicidal spirits, or saving the world from ancient evils. Normal. I want normal, I crave normal right now rather desperately. Unfortunately, normal seems to include things like detention, and missing the bus by less than a minute. I watch the bus I'd normally take roar off down the street in a cloud of diesel fumes, and do a little silent fuming of my own.

Okay. I can do this. This loop of the Domino City Public Transit system only operates during peak hours, i.e., to accommodate arriving and departing students here and at the elementary and Middle schools. If I cut around behind the school and across the soccer field I should be able to catch one of the Green Line buses that drive through Domino Park; not the one I'm supposed to be on, of course, but it will get me to the transfer point before the last run of the day. Not like anyone will notice that I'm late, or even on the wrong bus. After all, this was supposed to be Kendo Club night; I never get home until after 6pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and like I said, no one will notice. Except maybe Mrs. Watanabe in the townhouse next door. Nosy old busy-body seems to thinks it's her duty to catch me doing something I shouldn't, like staying out until three in the morning or throwing wild parties in the absence of any normal parental guidance. Wonder what she would have thought of Uncle Jamie?

I snicker to myself, hoist my book bag over a shoulder and cut across the school lawn, heading for the far side of the grounds. Good old Uncle Jamie, the only member of my mother's family who ever had time for me on our rare visits to England; the rest were too busy looking down their aristocratic noses at the cheeky foreign blighter who'd had the dashed impertinence to court, wed and bed one of their own. Too bad snobbery is such a universal concept. Dad's clan was just as horrified by mother's presence, though they were more subtle about it. Aunt Chihiro drops in about once a month to make sure I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, and to take me shopping in Kyoto, but that's pretty much the extent of familial contact on that side. Sometimes when I'm in a weird mood, I wonder what might have happened if Uncle Jamie hadn't stepped on that landmine in Afghanistan. If he had come to Japan like Dad urged him to, after my mother and sister died; if he and Aunt Chihiro had ever met.... Maybe we'd have formed our own little outcast clan, the four of us against the snobs. Maybe Dad wouldn't have taken that job with the Langford Foundation and gone off again..... maybe......

Maybe I'd better stop thinking about 'maybes' and start thinking about 'here and now'. I really don't want to walk all the way home if I miss that last bus; the shortest route on foot goes through some rough areas any sensible person would avoid if possible. Of course, I could always head for the Kame Game Shop, and ask Honda (if he's there) for a lift on his motorcycle. Or Mouto-san might be kind enough to drive me after closing shop for the day. But that would mean hanging out with Yuugi-tachi. Don't get me wrong, they're a great bunch; couldn't ask for better friends. Really. It's just....

To be honest, I've been avoiding them ever since we all got back from the Battle City Tournament finals. Why? Because they keep talking about it, and yes I was there but I don't remember! And most of what I do remember..... well, I wish I didn't. And I'm tired of Anzu or Jonouchi or even Shizuka saying something, and then gasping in horror or embarrassment and apologizing; because they forgot that it wasn't me, it was the Other. The only one who understands how freaked out I get is Yuugi, but even Yuugi sometimes forgets, and says things. That's why I've kept busy with other activities since we got home: aikido, the Kendo club once school started up again, I might even join the Drama club if I can stay out of academic probation. Anything, so long as it doesn't involve Duel Monsters.

I threw out my deck as soon as we got home; burned it actually. Yuugi was horrified at first, but after he realized that it wasn't really my deck I was destroying, never truly had been -- it was the Other's, full of fiends and horrors -- he helped. I did save two cards, though -- Change of Heart, and Lady of Faith. Yami no Yuugi gave me one other -- Wisdom of Ma'at -- the night we sealed that damned Sennen Ring in a lead-lined photographer's film bag. Yami didn't think it was really necessary to do that but understood why I wanted to go the extra mile, so to speak.

Yuugi kept trying to apologize for hitting the Other with that God-Card strike during their duel on the Battle Ship, so I finally had to sit him and YamiYuugi down and put it very bluntly: I'd rather be blown off a blimp and dead then spend the rest of my life with that homicidal psychopath running around loose in my body, and should the situation ever arise again I'd consider it the ultimate act of friendship if Yami would kindly reduce me, my body and the Other to a grease spot on the pavement with extreme prejudice, shriving time not allowed. And if they really wanted to know, I considered myself in Yami's debt for somehow sorting what was left of me out of the Sennen Ring and back into my body, sans homicidal Tomb-Robbers or psychopathic megalomaniacs, so could we just call it even and shut up about it already!

After which I apologized to Yuugi for yelling, and YamiYuugi chuckled and actually made a joke about how I at least knew that denial wasn't just a river in Egypt unlike a certain other individual of our acquaintance; we built a bonfire in the patio chimnea, stuck the film bag with the Sennen Ring in the back of the kitchen freezer and went out for deep-fried scampi and ramen. And that was that, more or less. If I never hear the phrase "Let's Duel!" again it will be too soon, but of course that's not likely to happen either. It's more popular than ever, both here and in America, thanks to Kaiba Corp.'s release of carefully edited videos from the Battle City tournament to promote KaibaLand and KaibaLand USA.

Hmph. Kaiba's been so busy he's hardly been in school; not that anyone misses him. I'd like to see someone give him detention for bad grades or skipping class.... I glance up from my musings to discover that I'm still about fifty yards away from the street. I shift my bag to the other shoulder and jog the rest of the way to the crossing. Traffic's pretty light this time of the afternoon; school's been out for ages and it's not rush hour yet, so I glance all four ways to make sure it's clear and start across the asphalt without waiting for the signal.

Won't happen of course; everyone knows that Kaiba Corp. practically owns the school system, not to mention most of Domino City. The only reason he even bothers to attend is because even Kaiba can't buy off the Japanese government. It's probably one of the conditions of him being an emancipated minor and legal guardian of his younger brother, that he at least go through the motions of fulfilling the educational requirements set out by the state. Actually, I'm surprised he didn't take a home schooling option – I know that Dad considered it for me before we realized that his position with the Foundation was going to involve more time away from home than originally anticipated. But Dad was worried about my 'social development' because we'd spent so many years abroad and moving around, so Aunt Chihiro agreed to be my legal guardian in absentia while he was gone. That's how I get away with living alone with a minimum of hassle from social services, though I have a dreadful suspicion that the Other may have put some kind of amnesia spell on my case-worker, Ms. Tanaka. I guess I should be thankful she's not in a coma; I think he actually liked her weird sense of humor! Go figure.

I pause briefly at the traffic island to re-check for on-coming vehicles -- still clear -- and step off the curb again. If there was a spell, I think it's dispersed now because at my most recent interview with Ms. Tanaka, I received a fairly sharp scolding for checking myself out of the hospital and running off to Battle City without notifying anyone or getting permission. On the other hand she was very approving of my becoming more involved with school-sponsored activities; I still need to get signed permission from Aunt Chihiro, of course. And if my grades aren't acceptable this quarter....

Okay, I am not going worry about that right now. I'm going to worry about that loud and getting louder wasp-whine behind --

I glance over my shoulder and freeze. Motorcycle. Big. Loud. Very close. And getting closer.

I know it's a cliché, but it really does feel like the world suddenly drops into cinematic slow-motion. Does the rider even see me? If he does, which way will he swerve? Fifty-fifty chance either direction. If I choose wrong I'm 'street pizza', as Jou might put it, and the rider a casualty that I will carry the responsibility for. Won't be able to blame this on the Other, that's for sure....

Move, you idiot!

I dive for the far curb, which isn't really that far, accompanied by the sound of squealing tires, and tearing cloth. Kamisama, please tell me he didn't try to brake at that speed! What ripped? My trousers? My jacket? Is he all right? I can still hear the roar of the engine in my ears as I scramble to my feet, noticing without really thinking about it the snagged and scuffed material still covering my knees, and then.... A thump and a sound like a thousand tree branches snapping all at once, followed by silence. Quickly I brush dust and dead leaves off myself and look around anxiously for any sign of the motorcycle wipe-out and /or survivors. The tire skid marks start in the street, swerve towards the side, and then jump the curb about fifty yards from where I am.... I wince at the sight of broken hedge bushes, but at least it gives me a clear trail to follow. I leave my book bag by the side of the street and head in that direction, hoping that there might be something I can do to help.

The motorcyclist is just getting clear of his machine as I push my way through what's left of the ornamental hedge. It looks like .... Oh dear God. White motorcycle. Tall, slender rider wearing a nearly ankle-length sleeveless trail duster coat over a dark turtleneck and leather slacks. Then he removes his helmet, thereby removing any doubt in my mind.

I just 'wiped out' Seto Kaiba.

I am so dead.

Kaiba spares his motorcycle a cursory glance, perhaps to assess damages, and then nails me with a glare that by all rights should cause spontaneous human combustion. "You!"

"Gomen... Are - are you all right, Kaiba-sama?" Okay, maybe I overdo it a bit with the -sama; chalk it up to massive free-floating guilt and a persistent inferiority complex. The Other did a pretty good job of convincing me that I was weak and worthless, but I am trying to get past that. That's part of why the aikido and kendo are so important to me right now; being able to defend myself (aikido) is a boost to my self-confidence and, well, Ms. Tanaka thought the kendo would be -- how did she put it?-- a healthy outlet for my adolescent frustration and aggression. But truly I'm not mocking him, although from his scowl Kaiba seems to think so.

Or maybe he's just trying to figure out if he knows me. We didn't have that many classes together in school last term; on the other hand, thanks to the Other, I was a Battle City semi-finalist and from what the -tachi have said, it was a pretty memorable duel between YamiYuugi and my Other what with the 'Destiny Board ' and the God Card and all.

"Bakura."

Shimatta! I've gotten so tired of hearing my surname spoken in that tone of voice over the past year and a half, I swear I'm going to have it legally changed it once I'm old enough. Kaiba takes a few steps circling the cycle, moving towards me; doesn't seem to be injured, thank God. I make a timid gesture of, I dunno, apology? sympathy?

"Ano....how bad is it? Can I call someone...'

I get another glare in reply, as Kaiba pauses and then leans over to grasp the handlebars of his fallen motorcycle. It takes a noticeable effort on his part to wrestle it into an upright position but when I start forward to help he throws me a very readable 'touch my bike and die!' look. So I stand back feeling useless while Kaiba inspects the damage, and wincing at the sight of the scratches and dents in the gleaming white metal. It's a beautiful machine, with iridescent sapphire blue detailing ... oh. How stupid can I get? It's his Blue Eyes White Dragon. I am double dead... He's got it propped up against one of the unbroken bushes, now; pulls a cell phone out of a coat pocket and punches a code into it. He doesn't wait for an answer or say anything, just flips it closed again and drops it back into the pocket. GPS locator signal, maybe?

"'How bad is it?'" Oh shit, I know that tone of voice: deceptively calm, and only seconds away from skin-flaying sarcasm of the kind that is normally directed at Jou or other members of Yuugi–tachi, and despite myself I step back. "It's bad enough when the authorities allow mutts like Jonouchi to run loose on the streets off-leash, but I didn't think they were so incompetent as to let a menace like you wander about without a keeper."

Ouch. All right, the Other was definitely a menace... "I beg your pardon?" I manage to reply mildly enough while shoving that spark of outrage back into a corner of my mind.

"A mannerly menace, how refreshing. Not granted."

Now that was just plain rude. I give Kaiba a very minimal bow; thanks to two sets of painfully polite and aristocratic relatives, I know exactly how to respond without resorting to crudity. "Gomen nasai, Kaiba-sama, for the confusion if you were under the impression that I was apologizing. I do believe that as a pedestrian, I had the right-of-way while crossing the street. I fail to see how your inability to control your vehicle under the circumstances can possibly be my responsibility."

As I straighten up I see his eyes narrow. A touch, I do believe; he appears to have caught the unspoken implication that while he may consider himself above the traffic laws, not every one agrees, and that he owes me an apology. "Since you appear to be unharmed and not requiring of medical assistance, Kaiba-sama," – and yes, this time I am being sarcastic – "I shall cease to waste your time and mine with meaningless displays of common courtesy and misplaced concern. Please...." I bow again, about your important business."

I start to walk away, outwardly calm and collected. Inside I'm... not so calm and collected. For as long as I've known him Kaiba has presented himself as an arrogant ass, and as much as I abhor violence I'm wishing someone would seriously knock the stuffing out of him. Not that people haven't tried, YamiYuugi in particular, but it never seems to stick. The only thing that ever shakes Kaiba out of his self-absorbed mindset is Mokuba, and even that has a limited duration....

Clap....clap.... clap....

I whirl about to see tall, dark and arrogant leaning against one of the still standing bushes, applauding lazily. "Very good, Bakura," he approves mockingly. "My compliments to your comportment tutor. I hope whoever it is has been appropriately compensated for their time and trouble."

I will not be rude. I will not lose my temper. I will be polite.

"If it's a referral you're looking for, then I must ask your forgiveness, Kaiba-kun. Unfortunately, you are entirely the wrong gender to be taking home to meet my grandparents." Actually, either pair of ancestral snobs would be ecstatic to welcome the handsome and wealthy CEO of Kaiba Corp. as a grandson-in-law; the only flaw in that scenario being the undeniable fact that I am not, despite Kaiba's insinuation, female. Granted, he's not the first to do so, but most tend to be much cruder about it – I'll have to give him points for subtlety.

Kaiba raises one eyebrow, and I notice that he now appears to be amused rather than annoyed. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if Kaiba ever climbed off his high horse and held a real conversation with someone, instead of the usual put-downs and insults. It might actually be enjoyable. He shifts his stance slightly, arms folded across his chest, and blatantly looks me over; I feel my face getting warm.

"You're absolutely certain of that," he drawls, his gaze lingering briefly in the vicinity of my shoulders and my long hair.

"Completely," I retort, irritated by his continued attitude. Well, what did I expect? This is Kaiba, after all.... Doesn't mean I have to stoop to his level, though. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you, Kaiba. Surely a person with your talent and resources would be able to locate a more than adequate substitute." There! Hopefully I've shifted the discussion back to the subject of manners and his lack thereof.

"But you're not me," he points out, that deceptively mild tone back in his voice. I do NOT like that glint in his eyes, and I especially don't like the fact that during our exchange he's somehow gotten his hands on his Dueling deck and is now shuffling it. Okay, time to nip this in the bud before it goes any further.

"I don't Duel anymore."

There goes his eyebrow again, and the shuffling stops. For a moment he looks surprised, and I think he's about to ask why, but then he 'hmphs'.

"Too bad. I do."

"I decline." It's my turn to take a determined stance, arms folded. "Did you hit your head after all, that you haven't noticed? I don't have a deck."

Now he does ask. "Why not?"

I almost stamp my foot (like a girl!) in exasperation. Kaiba was on the Battle Ship Dueling Platform, he saw the Other duel...Kamisama, is the man deliberately dense? I don't have time for this, I have a bus to catch!

"Because I burned it." That catches his attention and I can't help smirking a little, because he looks just as shocked as Yuugi was at first. "I'm only going to say this one more time: I. Don't. Play. Duel. Monsters. Anymore."

"Afraid of losing again?" he sneers, and I can't suppress a shiver. The Shadow Realm is definitely not a nice place, but that's not why. I can live with losing.

"Afraid of winning," I reply bluntly. "I don't like who I become when I Duel, Kaiba, and if you'd been paying attention to anything besides those damned God-Cards during Battle City you'd understand why." I trust YamiYuugi, but I'm not taking any chances on my Other returning; hence my recent avoidance of most things 'Duel Monsters' related, and the Sennen Ring's current residency inside a lead-lined pouch in the kitchen freezer. Kaiba looks...well, it's obvious that he doesn't understand. I sigh, and shake my head. "This is pointless."

"I agree." The cards have disappeared. How does he do that? For someone who claims to not believe in magic, Kaiba is awfully good at sleight-of-hand. "There are other ways to settle this."

Argh! "To settle what?" I demand, my voice rising despite all my resolutions to stay calm.

"Compensation."

"For what?" I repeat. "You're the one who damn near ran me over, Kaiba. Unless you're talking about compensation to me for wear and tear and mental anguish, which would be so out of character for you that if you were, I'd be calling the paramedics and telling them to check you for brain damage."

"Damages...."

"I'm sorry!" I shout. "I'm sorry about the motorcycle, it's a beautiful machine, it didn't deserve to get crashed through a hedge, but if you try to tell me that you don't have collision insurance, I swear I shall laugh!" Oops, maybe he doesn't.... maybe after that mess with the Battle Ship, his carrier cancelled his coverage or denied his claim due to the 'Acts of God' clause. Although in this case it would be 'Acts of God-Cards'.... What am I thinking? Of course he has insurance, he probably owns the insurance company.

"No one talks to me like that!"

"Well, maybe someone should once in a while!" I snap back. "Who shoved a rod up your arse and made you the bloody pharaoh, anyway?" It's official, now. I've lost it. My temper. Which is something I try not to do, because the Other will take advantage of my anger and use it as an excuse to do something horrible.... Not that he ever needed an excuse. Except I don't have to worry about that anymore, because he's gone. I think. I hope. I pray. So I concentrate on my breathing, and in relaxing my hands and fingers out of their clenched positions, because I really don't want this day to end with me being hauled in on attempted homicide charges. I just want this day to end, preferably with me at home and Mr. Totally Annoying and Clueless somewhere else.

Looks like Kaiba could use some 'anger management' exercises as well. Maybe I shouldn't have made that 'pharaoh' comment....

"Who the hell do you think you are, Bakura?" he snarls.

"I know who I am... Do you?"

He blinks. And then looks at me again. Really looks at me with narrowed eyes and a speculative expression on his face. I don't....why did I say that? He's... wait, when did Kaiba get so close to me? I take a step back.

"Apparently not. Why don't you tell me?"

Too close, too close! I edge backwards again. It's only been two months since YamiYuugi got rid of my Other, and I don't care what the psychologists say, that's not long enough to alter a learned behavior, especially one that carried such painful negative reinforcement. I'm this close to a panic attack -- he's in my space!

"I have a bus to catch, goodbye Kaiba, sorry about the motorcycle, see you tomorrow maybe..." I blurt out, very fast, and try to turn and run. Kaiba is faster.

"Don't even think about it."

"Let go!" Ironically, I don't think about it; it's reflex that sends my elbow into his stomach – thank you, sensei! – and knocks his hand away from my arm. Like I said, some habits are really hard to break. I spent the better part of two years avoiding close contact with other people; only the Other knows how many would-be bullies, unsuspecting friends, and even innocent bystanders whose only crime was to bump against me in the street ended up as game pieces, trapped in playing cards, or became Monster chow. If Kaiba doesn't back off....

"What, you'll send me to the so-called Shadow Realm?" Kaiba taunts, getting in my face and forcing me back another few steps. K'so! Did I say that out loud? "That might work on those superstitious fools you're used to Dueling, Bakura, but I don't scare so easily."

"You still think it was all holograms and hallucinations? Wake up and smell the coffee, genius!" I try to catch my breath, with limited results. Between Kaiba's dangerous proximity and his effing mule-headed persistence in denying the bloody obvious -- well, I'm starting to hyperventilate. "F-ck me, Kaiba! You may be the Generation X answer to bleedin' Bill Gates, but you're not that f-cking good at it!"

Good Lord, I think I just rendered the great and powerful Seto Kaiba speechless! Go me.... He actually falls back a pace or two, and the look on his face reminds me of the time I saw Dad whack a stubborn camel across the head with an iron skillet -- the camel was stunned, obviously, and so is the Clueless Master Hacker. Which makes this the perfect time to push past him and head across the park towards the Green Line station, hoping that this little diversion didn't cost me too much time and that I didn't miss my bus.

And symptomatic of how 'not good' today has been, I'm nearly halfway there before I remember my book bag. Shimatta! (and a few other colorful expressions I'm not supposed to know, let alone use in public). So I stop and ponder a few seconds on which would be worse -- possibly encountering Kaiba again, or dealing with the certain wrath of my teachers tomorrow when I show up for class sans textbooks, homework and whatnot.

No contest. I sigh, and turn around. And find myself face to face... er... face to chest, rather, with a certain classmate whom I'd really prefer not to be running into right now.

Eep!

"Ah... something wrong, Kaiba?"

There's an unsettling gleam in his eye as he stalks towards me, and I retreat until my back encounters something solid and I can't go any farther. Kaiba looms over me like a spirit of Impending Doom, but his voice is surprisingly normal-sounding as he casually informs me,

"I wouldn't know about Bill Gates, but I'd suggest you wait until we've actually finished before deciding I'm 'not that f-cking good.'"

"N-nani?"

"You said ... and I quote.... ' F-ck me, Kaiba '."

(tbc)

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Teaser for Chapter 2:

Kaiba looks like he's been dragged through a patch of gorse bushes -- well, duh! That was a stand of roses we crashed through when I tripped and we landed in our present compromising position. He's using one arm to keep himself upright while he gets his breath back; I've made him work for his spoils of war....

"What's wrong, Bakura? Run out of tricks?" Kaiba's breathing is still ragged, but starting to even out. "What happened to your usual threats about eternities of pain and darkness? I'm disappointed." Anything I say, or try to say, would be pointless; brushed aside as desperate defiance, or worse, groveling. The Other tried to teach me the futility of resistance, and yet time and again I managed to deflect his rage and destruction away from my friends and onto myself. I must be a slow learner.

"S-s-s-screw you, Kaiba," I manage, and the f-cking bastard actually laughs....

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A/N: Just a reminder -- this story is First Person, Ryou's POV. Which means he really has absolutely no idea why Kaiba's acting like this.

I have not yet seen the end of the BattleCity/Alcatraz arc, although I understand that the gang discovers Ryou in the kitchen (of the BattleShip?) basically stuffing his face (in the screen caps I've seen, Ryou is so adorable!!!), but no real explanation other than he woke up and was hungry. I don't know if there ever is a more detailed explanation, especially regarding the whereabouts of our favorite Tomb Robber.

I know that some people don't like the interpretation of Ryou Bakura as being part British. Sorry, I do. As a result, I figured Ryou would be reasonably familiar with various British authors & poets. An early draft had Ryou taking inspiration from a favorite Kipling poem (Hymn of Breaking Strain), but it slowed the action down too much. C'est la vive.... This is also why Ryou's theological references tend to be a mishmash of pagan (i.e. Egyptian/Greek), Christian (Catholic/Anglican), and traditional Japanese spiritualism. If anyone is offended, I do apologize for that.

I gave Ryou an 'Uncle Jamie' on his mother's side of the family, because he needs the memory of a solid male role-model for up-coming installments; and 'Aunt Chihiro' on his father's side (yes, that's a 'Spirited Away' reference) because, c'mon, folks! No halfway competent social services system is going to let a 16 yr-old boy live alone without at least a semblance of adult supervision! So where is the mysteriously absentee Dr./Professor Bakura anyway? That's yet another story, but I gave a hint very early in this one.

FYI: A 'chimnea' is a kind of patio fireplace that's popular right now in the MidWest U.S. They come in metal or ceramic mostly, and you burn special 'logs' or carefully dried and seasoned wood chips in it.

ALSO: I'd like to thank Vathara for her wonderful crossover stories, which got me hooked on YGO fan fiction; Amunra for her courage in dealing with a touchy subject in her story "Intruders", thereby inspiring me to turn what started as a tongue-in-cheek writing exercise into something more serious; and Amarin Rose, Laryna6, DarkShadowFlame, Lizeth, and all the other writers on my Favorite Authors/Alert List for their encouragement by example!

Last 2nd comment: Saw the movie yesterday, and nearly died when Gramps made the comment about Kaiba's insurance coverage! Oh well, you know what they say about great minds.....(Evil Grin!)

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Please -- read & review!!!!