Disclaimer: I don’t own Yu-Gi-Oh. If I did, I would lock Otogi-kun in a nice comfy closet and give away everyone else. I only want the best. *smirks and pats Otogi’s hair*

“This twist in the plot will baffle my readers!”—Snoopy the dog; Peanuts (Ego is pretty clueless on how to allude to a comic strip)

Yeah…. Here’s another fic by Ego-chan for the sake of fic writing.

Note: Here’s the pairing: *self-made drum roll* Seto/Ryuuji!

Thanks: MarmaladeGirl for beta reading this. *thumbs up to Marm* She was probably shocked I was still even alive. *grin* Also thank R Amythest for beta reading. *waves to RA*

~!~!~

Novelty

“ ‘In Domino, must attend events include several fall festivals in which tents are set up and stocked with a variety of goods. A few peddlers plant themselves at the different sites for entire weeks to sell their myriad of novelty merchandise to tourists and city dwellers alike. There are many different festivals concerning things from out of town farming to the local fishing industry. The fall is the yearly heyday for these celebrations as the winter snow has only recently threatened to fall and the trees are adopting and dropping their new fashions. Domino, though a very state-of-the-art industrialized city (home to the prominent Kaiba Corp and several other businesses) still has to afford its culturists an opportunity to shown their knowledge and pride in the area their families had settled centuries before.’

‘This opportunity has been bestowed within several regional festivals held in the city park as the year crawls along. Foreigners love the experience of Japanese culture most through the universally favorite medium of an excellent party. What enthusiastic Westerner intent on learning the use of chopsticks couldn’t enjoy the hospitable atmosphere of those eager to teach their simple, everyday habits in handling food? The people come to the East for the oriental experience and Domino isn’t about to disappoint them just because it happens to have a lengthy business district.’

I. Fall Festival

‘Currently there is a carnival/art sale running through the fall schedule. Large, uniquely colored booths and tents cover the newly constructed plaza in the park. The location is perfect in accenting the nature-centered works of local artisans. Several trails bleed off the grounds into scenic walks through the well-cultivated gardens. Not far off is one of the area’s largest, most celebrated shrines, which is the focus of many pieces of artwork on display. Domino boasts with this set up that not one visitor can leave without supporting the district by purchasing a variety of memorabilia. From large, hand-painted silkscreen to easier to pocket, creatively carved chopsticks, nothing really outsells the other. People desire such things from the booths to bring home with them and lock in cabinets or estranged to parlor rooms accessible only to distinguished guests. The local economy thanks them.’

II. Popular Entertainment

‘While the arts and activities focused on the region excite the tourists; this is not the same for the younger local residents. On the weekends of the festival, many students are to be found roaming the portions of the fair that resembled an amusement park more than anything. To many of them the art and crafts aren’t extraordinarily appealing. They’re more likely to meet fellow classmates wandering about the carrousel than the paper fan vendor. This is why, for any occasion, several different automatic rides are set up further from the green of the manicured park. The extra multitude of tents set up here in long would-be even rows contained a mixture of novelty merchants and chance games. These appeal more to the younger people who don’t want to collect knickknacks or barter for extraordinary deals. They prefer to be reckless and spend their pocket money on the entertainment provided by the repeated use of common rides and earning prizes through betting games. Instead of working hard to whittle the price of a certain plush toy down to a few hundred yen, they choose to try and beat the odds in ball throwing or pellet shooting, sometimes having to run home broke for more money.’ ”

“Is that it?” Seto asked slowly, blinking to see if he was still awake. Mokuba either failed to notice or didn’t care.

“So, what do you think of it so far, Niisan?”

“Are you finished yet? You know I don’t like coming to these things, Mokuba. Hurry up and type your paper so we can leave.”

Mokuba frowned slightly at his older brother’s impatience. He stubbornly deleted the last paragraph as the brunette looked over to see to what length the work had progressed. Seto’s brow furrowed slightly at the realization Mokuba hadn’t even passed one page.

“Keep typing,” he ordered, leaning back. Mokuba clandestinely undid his delete and tried to think of what else there was to say about the festival.

“How long does this have to be again?” Seto asked, leaning grudgingly against the trunk of a tree. He didn’t enjoy his current location. Mokuba had to write a paper on the local festivities.

“Four, five pages?”

“Nani?” Seto yelped, “Oh for the love of—”

“Niisan….” There was a threatening undertone in Mokuba’s voice, “You know you didn’t have to bring me.”

Seto sighed slightly and fell back into the supporting bark. His little brother was right. Seto could have easily ordered someone else to take care of Mokuba and not worry about it. He could be up in his office, working on game programs and the turning of varying budget deficits into gains. In fact, he could sunder himself completely from everyone and take care of Kaiba Corp while Kaiba Corp took care of his family. All his being could focus on business and computers till he became somewhat of a robotic-minded individual himself: no compassion, no concern, just a programmed indifference that openly didn’t give a damn past its own priority and achievements.

Seto shuddered at the thought, and allowed himself a few torturing moments to let this diabolical image of himself and the possibilities grow. He knew what he was capable of and that he couldn’t get too detached from everything. Even if it meant shoving his business problems in a crypt for three hours to accompany Mokuba on a trip to some kind of local wildlife festival, Seto was willing. Mokuba was of chief importance and Seto had been (in his mind) neglecting the boy for two weeks while the head technology department had a few issues with the copyrights on the use of electronics with the Magic and Wizards card game. Crawford had failed to clear that up before his accident and they had to go through the Motou’s.

“Are you feeling all right, Niisan?”

“Huh?” Seto slurred intelligently, rudely awaken from his disturbing self-discipline. Mokuba shook his head and tapped his pencil against the computer.

“Niisan, I’m going to go work on this by myself, all right? We’ll meet at the car in thirty.”

“But, Mokuba….” Seto had no intention of being separated from his brother.

“Don’t worry, Niisan. I’m going to hang around with Yuugi and everyone.”

“Nani?” Seto asked as Mokuba took off. Without removing himself from the tree, Seto grabbed the back of his brother’s coat and kept him from making his getaway. “You’re not running off, Mokuba. It’s dangerous.”

“Demo…” Mokuba sighed, “You trust Yuugi and them, don’t you?”

“No,” Seto answered, not having to consider the question and not willing to let his brother run off into the crowds on his own. Seto knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened, and the only way to make sure was to keep Mokuba in his sight. He was aware of the uncomfortably small leash that was being attached to the boy’s freedom, but that only proved how much Seto cared not to lose him.

“Seto,” Mokuba sighed, irked by his brother’s unrelenting restraints, “Yuugi-tachi is not going to let me get hurt.”

“You don’t know unless it happens.” Seto warned him, “How do you know they’re dependable?”

Mokuba frowned and shook his head. He crossed his arms and faced his brother with as steady a glare he could summon behind his miniature stature.

“Niisan, I am not a naïve little kid. I know all the rules: Don’t talk to strangers, don’t accept anything anonymous, and keep to where it’s safe.”

Seto sighed as he recognized a blur of tri-colored hair in the distance. He could see the future of this conversation if he refused Mokuba at least some liberty. His younger brother would be unhappy and trapped, which would only get worse as he got older. Seto was willing to lessen his control as not to mimic their stepfather. Kaiba Gozabaru hadn’t been the best roll modeling father figure, and Seto had no intent of turning into the man when it came to dealing with who might as well be the next Kaiba Corp heir.

“Are you sure?” he asked, yielding. He’d have Mokuba pay him back later.

“Yes,” Mokuba nodded eagerly. “Please?”

“All right.” Seto agreed, assuring himself it was only thirty minutes, “Be back at the limo in thirty. I expect your report to have a considerable growth spurt when I see it again.”

“Arigato!” Mokuba cheered, spotting Yuugi-tachi, and bounding towards them. Seto watched silently and looked at his watch. He had thirty minutes by himself without the laptop and didn’t have a vague notion of what to do with his time.

~!~!~

“…On the weekends of the festival, many students are to be found roaming the portions of the fair that resembled an amusement park more than anything….”

Yuugi-tachi seemed not to be above this petty form of amusement as they stood around one of the booths, cheering uncertainly for two good friends to win. They awed for whoever was doing well and encourage the person who wasn’t. They didn’t wish any of the two to lose, just wanted to watch the exciting competition. Ryuuji against Jounouchi was a very interesting match.

…And once again Ryuuji lost to Jounouchi in ring toss. It was getting overly frustrating for him, this series of defeats. Why wouldn’t the stupid little ring land where he wanted it too? He glared at it steadily, as though his wrath would summon some kind of terrific wind of will to lift the metal and drop it onto the greatest point anchor possible.

“Gosh, you must have no concentration, Otogi-kun. Your aim is so off.”

Ryuuji shifted his glare at Jounouchi for a few seconds, already past the casual level of annoyed that came upon the friendly losers whenever Jounouchi was riding a winning streak.

“Just watch, I’m going to make this one.”

Jounouchi smirked at the announcement and nearly collapsed when Ryuuji missed.

“Okay, I’ll do you a favor, Otogi-kun. I won’t count how many times you’ve failed to land a point.”

“Yeah, he can’t count that high,” Honda added, targeting both Ryuuji and Jounouchi.

Ryuuji tossed the ring in Honda’s general direction and watched it disappear into the grass. He could have recited Jounouchi’s next line exactly.

“Wow, can you hit nothing with those rings?”

Ryuuji knew the two were only joking to mess with him, but that didn’t keep him from growing angry and losing concentration. As a last resort he could always pull out some dice. He never missed with those.

“Here, let me show you how this is done, or should I say, won.” Jounouchi smirked. He paid for three rings and started tossing them. His second and third both landed prizes. Jounouchi Katsuya was soon the proud owner of a plush kuriboh sporting eyes the size of plates, and a plastic Frisbee with the carnival’s slightly deranged-looking shrimp mascot stamped over the top.

“Here you go, Otogi-kun, you can have cute little Kuriboh. It matches your personality.”

Ryuuji gaped wordlessly as the life-sized stuffed animal was shoved into his unsuspecting arms. By then Yuugi and Anzu where crumpled in laughter. Ryuuji slowly grinned as well and readjusted his flimsy grip, making the gift a bit more secure.

“Awe, for me? I appreciate it, Jounouchi-kun.” He thanked dryly, “I didn’t know you cared.”

Jounouchi thought about this a few seconds before taking a step back, “Yeah, don’t mention it… really. Don’t.”

Ryuuji smiled back, hitching the kuriboh under his arm. “So, where are we headed next?” he asked the group. Everyone shrugged uncertainly till Anzu pointed at the Ferris wheel. “Let’s ride that.”

“All right, but I sit between Kuriboh and Katsuya,” Ryuuji chuckled, “Since they’re both so cute.”

Jounouchi grabbed Honda by the back of the shirt and pushed him forward, “Not me, gomen, but Honda-kun’s free.”

Ryuuji threw on a sly grin and looked over the brunette, “Ahh, Hiroto—will do.”

“Otogi-kun,” Ryou sighed, “Stop being so creepy.”

“All right,” Ryuuji agreed, straightening up, “I’ll stay down here with Kuriboh while all of you pair up for the Ferris wheel. Let me guess, since Jounouchi-kun and Honda-kun are going to insist on being together for, ehem, reasons; Yuugi and Anzu are going to have to be together leaving poor Ryou by himself.”

This remarked earned Ryuuji a smack in the head from Honda and Jounouchi. The combined effort left his ears ringing but his grin failed to dissipate.

“Hey Yuugi!”

The entire group, overlooking the fact they hadn’t been addressed, turned to greet Kaiba Mokuba.

“Hi, Mokuba.” Yuugi greeted, looking at the laptop, “Is your brother here?”

“Yeah, but he’s not with me.” Mokuba informed them, “But I saw you guys and figured I’d stick with you for a while. Niisan said I could.”

Ryuuji laughed, “Yeah, none can resist the impulse to hang out with us. We are so cool.” This resulted in another slap upside the head from Anzu. Ryuuji frowned temporarily, “What was that for?”

Anzu shrugged with a sadistic smirk and turned to Mokuba, “Ignore the effeminate male with the stuffed animal. He doesn’t get enough sleep.”

“Oh, and how exactly would you know that?” Ryuuji snapped indignantly before laughing. This only proved Anzu’s theory. She mouthed the words “too much cotton candy” to Mokuba before letting Yuugi take over the conversation.

“Well, Mokuba, we’re going to go to the Ferris wheel.”

“Yeah, you can go with me,” Ryou offered. “Since Ryuuji wants to sit it out. I think he’s scared of heights—Itai!” Ryuuji hit Ryou over the head with the kuriboh, of which he had just discovered the effectiveness as a weapon. Ryou smiled sheepishly and massaged the hit.

“Okay,” Mokuba agreed and went with the group towards the Ferris wheel. Ryuuji headed towards a bench as everyone left for tickets. He stared morosely at the kuriboh, angry with Ryou for guessing right. Even though the pale boy had been joking, he had gotten the reason exactly.

Otogi Ryuuji wasn’t fond of heights. Yes, it was embarrassing. He didn’t talk about it and preferred not to act on the unrealistic causes for the odd paranoia. Like while Ryuuji watched Yuugi-tachi board the pastel colored carriages with optimistic grins: They wouldn’t be so happy if the Ferris wheel broke down with them on top. You never knew when a giant gorilla was going to attack. Any malicious bird or squirrel had a chance to jump from its tree and attack as the carriage just passed a few low lying trees.

“Where are your friends and Mokuba?”

Ryuuji leaped slightly at this and spun around the best he could without standing. Behind him was Kaiba Seto. Once Ryuuji realized this he began to calm down. Oddly enough, he hadn’t expected someone to zap out of nowhere like that while he was watching his friends go aboard the ill-boding Ferris wheel.

“Why?” he questioned in defense, wondering suspiciously if the Kaiba had something more devious planned in the simple inquiry. Maybe friends and Mokuba were code for something… else.

“Is it a crime that a sibling wishes the know the state and location of his younger brother?” Seto asked smartly.

Ryuuji nearly fell off the bench as realization hit with the ever cliché solidity of a cast-iron frying pan. Why was he being such a baka? Seto wanted to know where Mokuba was. It was exactly as he’d said it. Ryuuji mentally frowned at Yuugi-tachi on the Ferris wheel causing him so much disorganizing stress.

“Well, Mokuba’s on the Ferris wheel then.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Seto praised sardonically, “Good job. That wasn’t too hard now was it?”

Ryuuji blinked in confusion, wondering why Seto was mocking him for apparently no reason. He had never spoken to Kaiba Seto before and didn’t understand the teen’s feud against anything with voice. He took the offense as it was presented and glared at Seto with frustrated stupefaction. Hadn’t he corrected himself and answered the question? What was the smart remark for?

“What’s your problem?” he asked, truly curious. Seto, still displaying a prolific smirk, shrugged and gestured vaguely around him. Ryuuji couldn’t believe it once he translated this motion; Seto held a gripe against the world. Who in his or her right mind had something against everyone?

“But mostly my irritation is in you. By the way, nice hair.” Seto complemented with all the seriousness of one praising the circus clown’s pinstripes and polka dots.

Ryuuji pull consciously at a stray lock, staggered. What was so terribly wrong with Seto he couldn’t just lay off the insults? The first go had been a bit understandable, but the hair comment. Ryuuji was fond of his hair. He didn’t like people making cracks about it to be hurtful. He knew the style was a bit extreme, but next to Yuugi he could have been bald and not made a louder statement.

“Excuse me?” he tried to ask politely, but growled anyway. He was trying to remain calm and look at the scene realistically. Maybe Seto, with an inspiration spawned from his infinite boredom, was trying to sway the other end of the conversation into attack. That would make sense—if Kaiba were ten years old. What was wrong with him?

Against all odds, Ryuuji found himself feeling sorry for Kaiba, even if still a bit infuriated. He refused to believe Seto was actually angry with him personally. No, the billionaire’s issue was everything.

“Your brother will be back in a few minutes. You’ll have to get over it, he only just boarded the ride.”

Ryuuji blinked slightly as Seto gave an exasperated sigh and sat down. Instinctively, the dark haired teen edged away, wary of the temperamental company.

“Kami-sama, he’s going to be on forever,” Seto growled to himself, no more alluding to the existence of the teen next to him. Following this statement was a waiting silence. Ryuuji had nothing to say, knowing perfectly well that if he did the words would only be turned against him. Instead he held the kuriboh stoutly and watched the Ferris wheel make its second go round. Just one more and he’d be released from the stressing, quiet state of affairs.

All things considered, Ryuuji was obviously ready to scream when the Ferris wheel finally stopped. Who knew the last circle was the slowest? He tapped his foot impatiently as Yuugi-tachi came back to earth, filing off one by one without a care in the world for Otogi-kun’s predicament. He wondered why they were not running. Was the time not urgent?

Finally, the group meandered back over (and taking their own sweet time about it) to the bench where Ryuuji was strangling the kuriboh with his grip.

“What took you guys so long?” he asked, shooting up and to Honda’s side. “How can a Ferris wheel take that long?”

Honda blinked at him slowly, surprised at Ryuuji’s evident annoyance. “Otogi-kun, I wasn’t controlling the ride. It’s not my fault it took ten minutes. I rather enjoyed the view. You really should have come.”

Ryuuji hit him lightly with plush animal.

“Well, while you were taking in the fabulous landscape, I was suffering in the company of Kaiba-san.”

Jounouchi heard this and smirked, “Oh, we’re so sorry Otogi-kun. Sounds like you went through hell. I guess you should have ridden the Ferris wheel with us without enduring such needless suffering.”

Ryuuji attacked with the kuriboh, jabbering insults at the blonde. The rest of the grouped turned around to see the battle behind them. Yuugi and Ryou tried to hold the insane dice enthusiast back before someone was injured.

“Otogi-kun, don’t lose your head over them,” Ryou pleaded, trying to find something to say while failing to form any reliable grasp onto the angrily squirming teen, “Jounouchi-kun’s an idiot.”

“Oh thanks, Bakura-kun.” Jounouchi said in mock offense, “You don’t have to say anything else, I see how it is.”

Ryou, not noticing the sarcasm and desperate to stay on Jounouchi’s good graces while pacifying Ryuuji, temporarily released his grip to apologize. In a second he was fully aware of a kuriboh coming towards his face. He yelped, forgetting his purpose as a barrier between Ryuuji’s anger and Jounouchi-kun, and ducked.

Ryuuji, free after relieving Yuugi’s grip on his shirt, leaped at Honda-kun. He was shocked when his attack was cut in mid air. He turned around expecting to see to it that Ryou relinquished his new irking grip. Instead he saw something completely unexpected: Mokuba.

“Nani?” he stammered, lost for words.

“Don’t you dare touch my brother with that hideous kuriboh,” Kaiba snapped. Ryuuji was too distracted to remember being convincingly angry. Mokuba released his vest and sneered.

“Your immature fighting is starting to give me a headache. You also hit Bakura-kun.”

Ryuuji, confused on how he had suddenly become the unwilling antagonist, looked down at the ground where Ryou was rubbing his head, dazed. In attacking he had been acting no different than Jounouchi or Honda. It was Ryou’s own fault he was knocked down. Ryuuji was sure if he had made it to Jounouchi and Honda the two would have fought right back and defeated him in little time. Still, everyone was watching him expectantly. He sighed and turned to Ryou.

“Sorry, Bakura-kun.” He apologized, failing to see why he had to. “But I agree, Jounouchi-kun is an idiot.”

“Hey, do you want to start something?” the blonde asked, annoyed.

~!~!~

It was getting dark on the grounds. Several venders where closed and redeemed by the arrival of food carts in a sizzling overture to the night ahead. Jounouchi had long split from the group to go walk with Mai and Shizuka. Honda had joined him, intent on keeping the younger Jounouchi company. Ryuuji had let them go without a second thought, not caring if Shizuka and Honda where running off to elope. That wasn’t a concern of his as he had grown well out of any infatuation with the girl. Jounouchi Katsuya seemed to like the thought of the brunette with his sister over him anyway.

The group for a while had been Ryuuji, Yuugi, Anzu and Ryou, but that had grown considerably awkward until Ryuuji suggest they split up and let the couple go off on their own. Ryou was relieved at this, Yuugi and Anzu making him uncomfortable. Ryuuji spent the darkening hours in the shopping hub, admiring several different displays with the pale boy. Ryuuji had lost his one companion in a confrontation with Mokuba. He was slowly beginning to detest the minor Kaiba, but had laughed when the boy told them he was eluding his niisan. That made all the sense in the world to his companions.

Mokuba and Ryou got along much better than Ryuuji would have ever wanted them to. Gentle, never-hurt-a-fly, Ryou had even been the mastermind behind (as well as the one to carry out) several pranks aimed at the tallest group member. Ryuuji quickly became fed up with this startlingly corrupted side of his friend (obviously egged on by Mokuba) and when the two had decided to attempt the Ferris wheel for the tenth time to vex him, Ryuuji made a break for it while they were ten stories too high to do anything about it. He had spent the remainder of the evening walking and watching the lights slowly come to life. Neon lights and street lamps lit up the festival grounds, some even traveling far into the wooded park. Ryuuji could only guess one subtle romantic reason for why the trees and paths needed to be so illuminated. In the name of this excuse, he had incredulously eyed the couples walking in and about the sparse outer woods. None went very deep into the park, choosing to stay near humanity and the food vendors.

Late nine thirty found Ryuuji chewing thoughtfully at small grilled pieces of skewered duck and potato, trying to eat heartily and not burn his mouth. It was difficult, but he was accomplishing the painful task fairly well. There was very little spitting out of flaming portions and the majority of the food was actually making its way to his stomach.

“Owe!” he yelped, pulling back from the potato he was nibbling at. The cook smirked at him good-naturedly.

“Slow down, kid. My signs says fresh off the grill and I stick to it.”

Ryuuji smiled slightly and nodded at the man’s words. He attempted the potato again to no avail and figured he’d have to defy his love of prompt and wait for the food to cool. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few hundred yen for another stick to join his payment, this time with fish and shrimp. He thanked the vendor after the food was delivered and made his leave. Ryuuji assumed his meal would cool much quicker away from the heat of the grill and started off. He turned around quickly and grabbed the kuriboh which he had nearly left behind five times, and nodded quickly to the cook before making his way down the darkening aisles—the daylight home to a mass of pointless novelties and trinkets.

Ryuuji made his way to the better-lit grounds where nighttime merchants where still selling and others remaining for last minute sales. There was a lot more people there, some paying for food and others shooting pelt guns for prizes. A few performers were set up in their own lots, staging amazing feats or telling stories. There were even a few modern comedians entertaining the masses. Ryuuji stopped and listened to one go on about how what had once been a shrimp boat festival, was now up and appeared as anything but. The rant, though mildly amusing, failed to rouse his interest. Ryuuji soon found himself walking through the park away from all the people and happily chewing on the yellow duck fat. (^_^ Yum!)

Walking down the lighted paths alone was a bit conspicuous and awkward. Ryuuji looked down at the kuriboh he had been faithfully holding onto for the past five hours and decide he wasn’t quite alone yet. The plush duel monster hadn’t made an effort to pester him all day and had served him as a stanch weapon. He felt protective of it, and in an odd way connected. He assumed that was why people kept stuffed animals, the belief that it was a friend, something they could make ideal in their imagination. Ryuuji had enough of his own imagination to do this quite well. He continued to walk further happy with the make-believe company. Though the lighting remained constant, he did meet a lack of people. Soon he was too far-gone from the festival grounds to see anything but the top of the infamous Ferris wheel. It was quiet so far away, though not the least bit frightening. He sat down in one of the many benches lining the path and watched the carriages on the Ferris wheel go round.

Ryuuji sighed and involuntary held the warmed kuriboh to his chest. There was a joke repeating in his mind, but all he understood was the punch line. What had led up to this somehow amusing phrase was a vague memory of some lively conversation in which the lot had made sense. He wasn’t paying attention to anything around him. Distantly he recalled that the human mind for three hours of thinking used the energy generated from the eating of one peanut. That was a lot or a little depending on how much a person liked to think and the availability of peanuts. He grinned at the random thought and finished off his last potato to move on to the shrimp and fish, which had become sufficiently cooler.

“You’re still carrying that fur ball around?”

“Eee!” Ryuuji yelped, startled at the fact he had company. The kuriboh rolled cowardly off his lap and his shrimp fell onto the wooden bench silently, forsaken in Ryuuji’s surprise. Ryuuji look at Kaiba who had somehow found him.

“Don’t do that!” he ordered angrily, grabbing the shrimp and kuriboh up with a regretful frown so he wouldn’t have to look into Kaiba’s calculating eyes.

“Why are questions such a crime to you?” Kaiba smirked, amused by Ryuuji’s upset. The raven-haired teen looked like a clown. Ryuuji didn’t find it as amusing.

“Well, when the person inquiring tends to enjoy sneaking up on me while I’m sitting, I guess I wouldn’t be exactly chipper,” he informed Seto, nonchalantly picking bits of grass from the kuriboh’s fur. Ryuuji muffled his sigh into a yawn as Kaiba leaned against a tree behind him. He tried to keep his voice neutral as he turned the other way, leaning back on the bench properly.

“So, is there a reason you’re still here other than to grace me with your company?” He asked with a slouch, still hugging the kuriboh close. Seto’s presence was a bit foreboding, especially in the dark. He was prepared to attack with the kuriboh should the need arise. “I thought you would have taken Mokuba home by now.”

“Mokuba is home and teaching your friend Bakura-kun every damn thing he knows about computers—and everything else.” Kaiba growled, “It’s loud and I don’t like him.”

Ryuuji smirked at this. “Awe, why don’t you like Bakura? I’m sure he hasn’t done anything to you. Bakura-kun’s actually really quiet.”

“That is exactly why.” Seto growled, “I can’t stand him.”

Ryuuji nodded, only kept from laughing by the thought Seto was a threat, and he was therefore dangerous. It didn’t sound like he was happy either.

“So why pester me? I’m just sitting here. You’ll find your blessed silence farther down the path.” Ryuuji said, picking a thoroughly inspected shrimp from the skewer and popping it into his mouth (it was still food, even after vacationing on the bench).

“I was alone until you sat down.”

Ryuuji jumped again at how much closer Seto’s voice had become. He resisted the instinct to lean forward and stop reclining. He wanted to look like he wasn’t nervous but he also wanted to be safe in case the odd paranoia was justified. In a matter of seconds he settled with quietly chewing on his shrimp, but held the kuriboh tightly just in case.

“Gomen.” Ryuuji apologized politely, though he was not completely sorry. He was startled by two hands on the rail behind his head and would have leaped if they also didn’t have his shoulders.

“You’re jumpy.” Seto noted behind him, the cold voice very close now.

“You’re suggesting I shouldn’t be?” Ryuuji snapped, greatly annoyed at Seto’s approach. He shrugged the grip off stubbornly. Seto was probably trying to start an argument or something.

“Yes.”

Ryuuji didn’t like Seto’s tone. He reached for the kuriboh to attack but Seto didn’t do anything else remotely threatening. He walked over to the end of the bench opposite Ryuuji and sat down. Ryuuji glared at him for a few moments, suspicious. Seto, though, seemed to have completely forgotten he existed, watching a near lamp instead. Ryuuji was unsurprisingly curious at this, wanting to know what the brunette was thinking for the simple reason he didn’t know.

“Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t be so jumpy. You obviously have lots to mull over,” he started, slicing the silence open in hopes of happily dissecting it to find bits of quaint conversation hidden in the absence of creativity.

…Whatever that was supposed to mean.

“Here, Kuriboh will help you think,” he offered instead, tossing the plush animal at Kaiba’s head. It fell short and thumped lifelessly into the CEO’s shoulder before landing lightly back on the bench. Seto turned to look at it and Ryuuji, confused and annoyed.

“Don’t do that.”

Ryuuji nodded and took the kuriboh back. He didn’t enjoy being ignored. As soon as Seto turned he tossed it again, this time not missing.

“What did I just tell you not to do, baka?” Seto snapped, turning around and grabbing Ryuuji by his shirt. Ryuuji grinned nervously, finding his self-made predicament both horrifying and hilarious.

“Throw Kuriboh-chan at you,” Ryuuji replied, not at all terrified and therefore unable to stammer. There was a priority to not so much as breathe in fear for his life, but there was also an unmistakable joie de vivre Ryuuji felt when he dared himself to do the unthinkable (and often dangerous) for no sophisticated cause.

“Don’t.” Seto ordered, sitting back and grabbing the stuffed duel monster.

“Oi, that’s mine!” Ryuuji objected as the kuriboh was taken away.

“Not anymore.” Seto shrugged, certain that by taking the coveted toy he had solved his problem. It worked with Mokuba.

“Give it back.”

“So you can toss it at me?”

Ryuuji frowned at this. He certainly didn’t enjoy the kuriboh being kidnapped by Seto and would make him pay for his audacity.

“Let go,” he ordered immaturely and clasped the kuriboh’s foot. Seto, unfortunately, had the advantage of a better grip.

“You’re going to tear that foot off, Otogi-kun, and I’m going to laugh at you.” Seto warned. Ryuuji understood this and released the furry appendage regretfully.

“Fine, but just so you know, Kuriboh came from Jounouchi-kun.”

Seto shrugged, “That doesn’t really bother me.”

Ryuuji glared back up at the CEO, making furious eye contact in an attempt to stare him out of the stuffed duel monster. To say the least, it wasn’t working. Seto look thoroughly pleased—in an odd, detached way—with his victory.

“Errr….” This was about all Ryuuji said over the next ten minutes. Seto was waiting for Ryuuji to attack, Ryuuji was waiting for Seto to relax, and neither where backing down. It was a stall that would take hours to unbalance. Not one was planning on stay the night, but both were part willing if it came to that extreme. Seto expected Ryuuji to eventually give up and beg, and Ryuuji was mentally toying with the idea of workaholic, sleep deprived Seto merely passing out from being inactive for too long. It was an unrealistic idea, but ten minutes had just become a very lengthy bit time in which it was growing difficult to keep back such random, pointless strategies.

“Kaiba-kun….” Ryuuji growled finally into the tense silence, “Hand me the kuriboh before I’m forced to retaliate.”

Seto looked at Ryuuji unconvinced. “No, thank you.”

Ryuuji scowled, contemplating what to do. The stubborn idiot in front of him was too busy gloating to notice the unmistakable look of concentration on Ryuuji’s face. He didn’t sense the sudden realization that dawned on the kuriboh-deprived teen.

Seto smirked wider as Ryuuji pounced exactly like he had predicted ten minutes before.

Only it wasn’t entirely the same, he discovered, as Ryuuji’s lips found their way to his.

This being one of his self-dared, dangerous, and unlikely moments without an apparently sane cause, Ryuuji was doing just fine. Seto, as Ryuuji had planned, was furious and made to push him off. This wasn’t before the attacker had reclaimed the kuriboh.

“What the hell?” Seto yelled at Ryuuji who was laughing at him from the ground. Seto made to attack as well. Ryuuji, defiantly not wanting to experience unnecessary pain, snatched the kuriboh and ran as fast as he could away. The dark intervals between the lamps no longer cast a comforting dimness. Now they were threatening, like something dangerous could be hiding in the infinite black at the middle farthest from the light. He ignored this new perspective though, and ran as fast as he could back to the food carts and mechanical rides. It was only in the middle of the festival plaza that he stopped, short of breath and surrounded by a multitude of people. Seto wouldn’t take his revenge on someone in front of a crowd.

“Oi, Otogi-kun, where have you been?”

Ryuuji looked around at Honda, the Jounouchi’s, and Mai, for once relieved to see them all together.

“Oh, you know,” he said as offhandedly as possible while gasping for breath, “Here and there.”

“You mean you’ve been walking around alone?” Shizuka asked, alarmed.

“Hai, I didn’t face anything too awkward,” he lied.

Jounouchi smirked and pointed at the kuriboh, “Oh Kami-sama, you still have that thing? Man, can you say obsessed?”

Ryuuji clutched the kuriboh nervously and ran a hand through his hair with a sheepishly apologetic grin.

“Yeah… obsessed….”

~!~!~

Ha, bet you never saw that happen to Otogi! *sarcasm*

*grins* I know, that was just shameless fun in the last bit. I was completely lost writing this fic. I guess it doesn’t really have a point. It’s just shameless entertainment for my description-loving ego. *grins wider* But that’s not too bad.