Chapter 2

My phone rang. Again.

I no longer kept my music so loud that I couldn't hear anything, but I still claimed to not hear people calling or banging on the door. I was pretty sure my fathers knew I was fibbing, but they let me get away with it.

I glanced at the missed call.

Uncle Mokuba.

There was a time when I wouldn't have needed to look. He had a special ringtone. I never ignored his calls, never locked the door to him.

It got too hard, though. Hearing his ring tone and knowing that he was going to be at the office late. Or that he was still overseas - or going overseas. Or that he wouldn't be able to come see me because he had a date.

Usually with a woman.

Uncle Moke never lied to me. He was as honest and open as he always was. He never pretended that he would ever defy my father to be with me. Or that, at heart, I was anything more than a favored nephew.

I sighed and looked out the western window at the trees that hid my sanctuary from the world. I was more to him than that. The problem, really, was that I wasn't the love of his life - the way he was for me. My uncle did not return the full depth of my feelings.

Quelle surprise.

The phone rang again. I looked in its direction. I should speak to him. It's not as if he didn't tell me what was going on.

We were in Tahiti.

My Master's Exhibit had not only been a huge success at my university, but museums worldwide had requested showings. I'd spent almost a year and a half touring the globe with it.

I had discovered, during that time, how important my family was to me. I missed them terribly while I was traveling. I came home as often as I could, and they came to visit me as their schedules allowed. But it wasn't nearly enough, and I spent most of the trip lonely and miserable.

I also learned that I no longer felt like every sexual innuendo aimed at me was an assault. For the first time in my life, sex wasn't a threat or a tool. It was a pleasure. I didn't stop using Uncle Ryuji's mental trick - that dispassion at will was far too useful - but I understood, finally, what Ryou-Sensei meant when he told me that there was a difference between sex for love or fun and sex for commerce or assault. Before, they had all been the same act to me. Uncle Moke taught me, however, that one act could have many feelings. The touch that used to bring only shame could also bring joy; force and capitulation were one thing, while desire and choice were quite another.

I even caught myself flirting once or twice. It was completely meaningless; my heart was taken and my body desired no one else.

The few times Uncle Moke came to see me, we spent every opportunity wrapped around each other, breathlessly giving and taking, until I was afraid I would die of bliss.

When the tour finally ended, Uncle Moke suggested that I take a vacation to recover, and Father - who had hinted that he suspected I had taken a lover during my tour - insisted that I take a chaperone. Uncle Moke volunteered.

He took me to Tahiti. The beach was glorious. The natives were enchanting. Mokuba was perfect. If I hadn't already been in love with him, I would have fallen under his spell as we sat on the moonlit beach and listened to the waves.

"William." He said one afternoon. "Nephew, we need to talk."

We were sitting on the beach, watching some local children making sand castles. I was thinking of building a sandbox behind my studio and taking up sand art.

"You always say that when you want to tell me about her." His American girlfriend. I'd met her by then. She was all the things you would expect in a woman who could keep Uncle's attention for longer than a day.

"I'm serious. We need to talk. I don't want to say this and you don't want to hear it, but..." He looked at me, " ... but we both knew this wasn't forever."

I found myself shivering, despite the heat of the sun.

He put his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. "I wish things were different, William, I really do. But there is no way we can go any further." He smelled like coconut and sun and seawater. I focused on his scent and not his words. "This is the last time we can be together. When we get home, I'm..." He kissed my head again and held me tighter. "William, I'm getting married.

The words hurt. They hurt more than if he'd just stabbed me with a knife. "You can't." I whispered.

"It's time, William. It's past time. I have to grow up and I think Yvette's the right woman."

"She's a woman." I spat. I could feel tears forming. "You love me."

"William." He kissed my head again. "Of course I love you. You're my nephew. Whatever happens, you'll always be part of my life. Nothing can change that."

I turned around and looked at him. "I mean you're in love with me. We're in love with each other."

His eyes seemed tearful too. "You're my brother's son. Even if it were true that we were in love like that, how could we be more than secret lovers?"

I thought about that. It was true; no one in our family - no one we knew - would accept our relationship if we made it public. The resulting scandal might be enough to, quite literally, ruin the family name.

Dalit. Even with all that had happened, I was still Unclean - Untouchable - and now, my taint would defile everyone who'd touched me.

"William?" Uncle grabbed my chin, tried to make me look at him, but my eyes were too clouded with tears. "Talk to me, nephew! Don't shut me out."

"You promised you'd always be here for me!" I pushed away from him. Made myself stand up. "You said you loved me!"

"I do, and I will be. We're family, Will. That is so much more than being your lover." He stood up and stepped toward me. I took several steps away from him. "William, we need to talk this out."

"I don't want to talk this out!" I snapped. "Have you told Father yet?" I asked, praying he hadn't.

Uncle nodded. "Nii-sama and Noah both agreed to the marriage." He took a step closer. "William..."

I took a step back. "Have you asked her yet?" Maybe she'll say 'no'.

He gave a half-hearted smile. "Actually, she asked me. Last month." He laughed, embarrassed. "She told me to shit or get off the pot."

"And you shit." I snipped. His smile faded. "On me."

"That's not what's happening! Damn it! What do you expect me to do? You're only 18. You are my brother's son! Have you ever even thought about that? Do you know what I go through to keep us off security's radar? William, it doesn't matter how either of us feel, we are Kaiba. Seto talks about 'paying the cost', well, this is it, William. The cost of being Kaiba for you is that the man you love is totally out of your reach. And for me, it means I'm getting married whether I want to or not, and whether I love her or not. And then, I'm having a son so that the legacy is guaranteed - and the fact that you and your sibling, and Noah's kids will all inherit the 'mantle of power' long before any kid of mine is even considered is irrelevant! Don't think for one minute that you are the only one getting shafted here!"

"Then, stand up to him!" I threw myself into his arms. "If you feel as I do, defy him. We'll go somewhere together, just you and I."

He held me tightly and I found myself weeping.

Neither of us would defy Father. Neither of us would run away to some magic place where my father's security forces would not find us. I doubted there was a place - even a magical one - where they could not find us. Uncle Mokuba and I may have been in love with each other, but neither of us was willing to hurt my father so deeply. Neither of us was willing to tear our family apart so brutally.

He held me until I stopped weeping. Then he pulled me back and kissed my tears. "William, we have three more days. Three days to savor each other. I don't want to spend them mourning. This is fall, nephew. Winter is coming. Let's just enjoy the beauty that is now. Can we do that?"

I had to laugh, even through my tears. "You say things like that and I'm not supposed to love you?"

There wasn't anything else, really, that I needed to do to the portrait. Actually, it was probably done a day or two ago, but I'd been refusing to let it go.

I was acting as if the American service didn't count. As if the marriage wasn't real until the painting was finished. Of course that wasn't true. It wasn't even that I didn't like my new Aunt Yvette; she would have been lovely if she were marrying anyone else.

But much like the painting, I couldn't let him go.

My mood after we returned from my 'vacation' was more sullen and bad tempered than usual. I spent even more time in my studio making nothing worth the effort - although several of the pieces were critically acclaimed as 'masterful' and one was sold at a charity auction for almost a million yen.

It was junk. It was all junk.

It was something to justify spending my time in the studio, but my mind wasn't on creation. It was on the impending wedding.

Months went by before Uncle Moke barged into my studio. I had the music at full volume again, but I'd put a pressure plate for the lights on the hinge so that if the door opened, the lights flashed. Still, since the door had been locked, I didn't actually need to look up to see who had entered.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

"I am making glass." Clearly.

"That's not what I meant, damn it!" He sounded exasperated. "Why are you being such a royal bitch?"

"I have been told that when I am working, I am always a bit testy."

I reached for the tweezers, but Uncle grabbed them first. "Why are you being such a dick?"

I considered for a moment whether my uncle was truly that obtuse or if he was attempting some form of ironic humor. "I'm not sure how to respond to that. You can't really be asking me why I'm behaving like a jilted lover." I blew into the pipe again; another inch or so of length would be ok. "I am making glass-ware gifts this year for Christmas. And probably for Nobu and Papa's birthdays. Do you think my sister will like this color?"

He sighed. "If you make it, Auset will love it. I know you're angry with me, but do you have to treat Yvette like a leper?"

"Yes." I stood up and lifted the glass soon-to-be vase onto a paddle. I was reasonably satisfied with the overall shape; now it was time to start adding details.

"William..." Uncle Moke's shoulders fell. "What do you want me to do here?"

"Break the engagement and come back to me." That statement should have been as obvious and as unnecessary as pointing out that the vat of liquid glass was "hot".

"You know I can't do that."

"You asked what I wanted." I knew I was being petulant, but I honestly didn't care. "Not what was possible." I reached out and waited for him to hand me back the tweezers. I used them to begin pulling out broad shapes that would eventually become leaves.

"Why are you being so childish about this?"

I couldn't answer that. I wasn't entirely sure. I wanted to like her. I wanted to have my uncle back, at least, if I'd truly lost my lover.

But every time I looked at either of them, I felt sick. I felt my heart sink. I thought of my fathers and wondered why they had a love that lasted throughout the ages and mine could not last a year.

Once Dalit, always Dalit. Anything I touch becomes defiled. The men who purchase me when I was on the streets, they didn't defile me, I defiled them because I am - and always will be...

... Unclean. Karma is a bitch.

"William!" Uncle Mokuba had both his hands on my cheeks. "Come back."

I was going to cry again. I couldn't stop myself.

"You always go there, don't you?" He asked softly. He pulled me into his arms. "You are Kaiba, now, William. Your karma is ours. Nothing else matters."

He always seemed to know what I was thinking. How could I stop loving him?

I did spend some time with her. I could hardly blame her for falling in love with him. If I had to lose him, she was a tolerable choice. Almost.

I went back to America with them in part to oversee a new KaibaGames product launch - high end, die cast figurines of ultra rare cards, rendered in full color. We had given a complete set to Grampa Mutou for display before we released them to the general market and he sold out the day he got his first shipment. Father was hoping US sales would be as strong. I was just hoping that the factories mass-producing the small statues I had designed had quality control standards.

Uncle Mokuba and I toured one facility, and I looked over some of the finished products.

"No." I said as soon as I opened the box of Red-Eyed Black Dragons.

"No?" The idiot who'd been leading the tour looked at my uncle. "No, what? Who is this kid, anyhow?"

Uncle ignored him and looked in the box. "What's wrong with them?"

I pulled one out. "The tail." He looked at it more specifically, but didn't see the problem. "It curves to the left."

"Ok." Uncle said, still not getting it.

"Black dragon is on the right, white dragon is on the left, red is in the center." I touched his right arm, lightly traced the black dragon hidden under his sleeve. "Always."

He got it then. "Always?" I looked back at the stock so I didn't cry looking at him. He cleared his throat and turned back to the Americans. "Either you guys have the wrong die or it's installed backward. All of these are trash. William, can they be melted down?"

I looked over the pieces. "They have to be striped of color first." I took a breath and pulled myself together. "And I want to oversee the die correction. How did no one know what the end product was supposed to look like?"

"That's a lot of materials! The cost... !" The factory man started to protest. "Mr. Kaiba, I appreciate you all want tight quality here, but we can sell those as..."

"You're fired." Uncle said flatly. He turned to his security man. "Take him back to his office, give him ten minutes to clean out his desk, and then escort him to the lobby. Personnel will bring your last check there. You, in the short skirt; get the rest of the management staff in a conference room in five minutes. Nephew, go look at anything you want; if it's wrong, figure out why and fire whomever's responsible."

"They are calling it the 'Return of Gozaburo'." Uncle Noah laughed. We were having a three-way video conference call. "I've been getting nothing for a day but panicked managers calling to see when they will be inspected. I've told them all 'next'."

Father laughed too. "Brother, you've outdone yourself. I'm sorry I missed what must have been quite a show."

"It wasn't all that." Uncle deferred with an embarrassed laugh. "That asshole just pissed me off! I mean, come on! I've been to the Ford plant. They don't give shit to guys named 'Ford'. William told him the stock was bad; that should have ended it." Uncle looked at me. "They used to treat me the same way. They assumed because I was young, I didn't know shit."

"I suspect they won't be making that mistake again." Uncle Noah chuckled.

"No, indeed." Father agreed. "Son, I want you to stay in America with Mokuba, take over KaibaGames US operations and oversee this launch."

I stared at him. I'd only recently turned 17. I'd worked on small products over the years, but I'd never even headed a team, never mind an entire division.

He smiled reassuringly. "I have every faith that you will rise to this challenge. Use the competent staff who are there, remove the staff who are in the way. Mokuba is there if you need him and I am merely a phone call away."

"But what if I make a mistake?" I asked, praying that this was one of Father's 'jokes'.

"You'll learn from it." Father said. "Of course, if we take a loss, I'll take it out of your allowance."

"Ok, Tak, move!" Papa leaned over Father's shoulder, his cascade of blond hair blocking Father's face for a moment. "Hey, Wolf! How's it going out there? You ok? You look pale; are you taking those supplements I sent you?"

"I'm fine, Papa." Even with just the family, it was mortifying.

"If you're going to embarrass the boy, Joey," I heard Dad say from off-screen, "ask him about the blind date."

A friend of Yvette's; he and I had dinner, and I was home - alone - before 9pm. "It was fine, thanks." I said before Papa asked.

"I am in my office, working." Father looked at his spouses a little more amused than annoyed.

"Yeah, well you said you'd take the day off, so if you're on the phone with him, I get to talk to my kid!" Papa turned back to me. "You haven't called since you got there, so I've been worried. Are you eating right?"

"Papa, please. I promise I'll call tonight."

He frowned. "It's just the family, Will. Don't get all huffy. You're still my kid and I still get to worry about you."

"Yes, Papa." Rolling my eyes would only get me grounded.

"And you can always call whoever it was you met in Tahiti." Dad added from the background.

"I didn't meet anyone there." I insisted yet again.

"Riiiiight." Papa smirked. "Cause I'm too old to know what a teen with a broken heart looks like."

"Papa - please!"

"Yes, Joey, please!" Father pleaded on my behalf. "You have embarrassed the boy enough for one day! William, I trust you. Noah, I'll probably come in this afternoon." Uncle Noah snickered. "Mokuba," Father chuckled. "Don't kill anyone. I'm not sure I can get you off of that charge."

"Bye guys!" Papa yelled as the screen went dark.

"I should be going too." Uncle Noah looked at his watch. "I have a meeting with the bank in a few minutes. And, for the record, William, I won't consider it a loss if you keep it under ten thousand yen. Mokuba, your quarter end stats are late. I need them today."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Uncle Moke hung up and groaned. "I hate stats! That'll kill my whole day."

"Uncle..." I gaped at the empty screen. "I - I can't do this! I -"

"William!" He grabbed me by the shoulders.

Then he kissed me. Our arms slowly slipped around one another and I was completely limp in his arms when his lips released mine.

"You can do this, William." He whispered. "I have faith in you, too." He kissed me again - once, lightly - then left the room.

I fell into the nearest chair. It was too much. Uncle, Father, they were both more than any one person should have to cope with.

I did touch-up the background on Uncle Mokuba's portrait. Ryou-Sensei would have to be careful of wet paint when I finally hung it.

I picked up the photo I was working from and studied it for a moment. I usually worked from photos; live models were frustrating. They moved, they talked.

In Uncle's case, they made irresistible passes at me while I was trying to work. Nearly all of my positive sexual history had happened in my studio.

Almost all of it with Uncle. Almost.

The first weekend in September, I took a private plane from our factory in Louisiana to West Virginia.

I was not alone.

"Wolf, come on - just be nice to the guy, ok?" Papa was still asking not telling me, but I really didn't want to go to this damn wedding in the first place. "I haven't seen him since I was, like, your age."

"Then why is he attending?" I hated babysitting.

"Because weddings are when you see distant, long-lost family! Look, William, it's already set. The plane's picking him up in Chicago and bringing you both to Richmond. You're going to drive up from there."

"Drive?" That would take hours! "Why can't we just fly all the way in?"