`` thank you for the [ v e n o m ] seto kaiba [ 1 ]

I tried to dismiss her comment with a lively laugh to prove I wasn't sleepy, but a misplaced yawn came out instead. She looked at me skeptically, and I replied with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, Mom. I just wanted to see Domino before we touch the ground."

She grinned in answer. "Well, so long as you're awake," she began as she fished for something in her handbag. She pulled out a few envelopes and handed them to me. "I suppose you can take a look at the details of my transfer to Domino. It ought to be very busy for me, being one of the directors of IE, since it's summertime."

"Summer... right. Thanks for reminding me I have two-odd months stuck at home," I said jokingly as I received the envelopes. Usually I would've been elated that it was the season we were free from school, but considering we were going to move to a place where I didn't know anyone at all, that wasn't really something to rejoice over. I looked over the envelopes and I opened the first one, which was dated April 27, the earliest-written of them all. It was addressed to my mother, from the CEO of the company she worked for.

"The first day of June?" I asked as I looked up at her. She nodded. "But that means we only have one week together before you have to leave for work! As if it isn't bad enough that Dad won't be coming until after his own company allows him a transfer, you have to go back to work a week after we arrive!"

My mother laughed. "You wouldn't prefer your mother would stay home and be a jobless beggar, would you, Hana?"

"No... but," I protested stubbornly, "Do you promise to go shopping with me after we're settled in our new home? Please?"

She eyed me curiously, if a little sardonically. "And when did you become an obsessive-compulsive shopaholic, Hana Eijiro?"

"When I heard that my mother has to go to work June 1st," I answered with a chuckle. I lifted the envelope dated May 12 up to eye level, as if inspecting it closely. "Anyway, what are the other envelopes for?"

"Sounds like a tremendous responsibility," I said as I folded up the second letter and stuffed it back into its envelope. I tucked some of my light brown hair behind my ear, trying to recall what Duel Monsters looked like but failing miserably. I wasn't really the gaming type of person, but I was interested enough in my mother's work that I was kept informed of most of the things that went on in the entertainment business. I added, "Imagine, being one-half of what is likely to be the biggest gaming event of the year! It seems too immense to be real."

My mother laughed at my reaction. She was very much used to having to work late, and I knew that no matter how much work the job needed she wouldn't have felt a difference. What she said confirmed my thoughts, when she replied, "Well, one-half of the work is better than all of it. I do have Mr. Kaiba to work with, and being the tycoon he is, Im pretty sure hes well acquainted with the workload the project entails."

"Speaking of which, who is this Kaiba person?" I wrinkled my nose in curiosity and slight disgust at the person who would be eating up most, if not all, of my mothers time. I was quite the protective teenage daughter - that, of course, and the fact that he was partially the reason why I wouldn't have been seeing my mother starting the next week. "Is he some deprived old pervert? Or maybe a domineering middle-aged eccentric, or can he be a flirtatious old geezer? I wouldnt want you to stay up into the wee hours of the morning with such people."

She laughed again. For some reason, my mother was really having a case of the giggles that day. I guessed it came from having to answer all my stupid questions, and she knew enough, of course, to make fun of me. Which she did, ninety percent of the time. She replied, "Dont worry, Im pretty sure Mr. Kaiba is none of those. I think theres a picture of him in the last envelope, with the letter on his background and what hes like. Feel free to cross-examine him for me."

I pulled out a picture from the third envelope like she asked, and my jaw almost fell in surprise. There, in the photograph, wearing a sophisticated white suit, was a young man of about sixteen no, more mature than that. He had dark brown hair, and the bluest, steeliest eyes I had ever seen in my entire life! To put it short, I thought he was one of those heartthrobs from teen drama series like One Tree Hill or The O.C. Which I would never admit to anyone, but in any case, I tried to estimate his age again. Maybe twenty at the most, seventeen at the least, I guessed, but still, he was too young, at least in my opinion, to own a company! "Mom, you're kidding me," I hazarded a guess, "This is his son, I'm sure of it!"

"He is not!" she rolled her eyes. Yes, my mother gave me the signature teenage eye-roll. She was cool that way. However, now, I did not think it was very cool that my own mother was proving me wrong, especially when she usually took my side in family arguments. Then again, so did Dad. My ever-short attention span focused on my mother again as she added, "That is Mr. Seto Kaiba. Don't you watch the news? He's on practically every night, described as one of the modern world's most accomplished teenagers."

I laughed at that. "You mean alongside the Olsen twins and Miley Cyrus?" I said sarcastically. I looked back at the young man. He had brown hair that fell just above his eyes and oh, those eyes. I dont recall ever seeing such a dark, piercing shade of blue, nor do I remember such a hard raptor gaze. And still the only thing I could think of was how I would have loved for my room to be painted that exact shade of blue. They were just so goddamned pretty.

"Don't laugh at him just yet, Hana dearest," she continued, "He's only eighteen years old and he's been given worldwide acclaim as a genius for his inventions and his strategies at Duel Monsters. In fact, he's one of the best players all over the world." The moment she said how old he was, I almost blanched. Eighteen? Him? No way. He looked so much more mature than that. He looked... wiser, more experienced in the ways of the world. I would never have guessed at eighteen. That was just two years older than me, and I had about as much maturity as a twelve-year-old. In the best possible way, of course, because twelve-year-olds were fun kids.

I shirked off her praise of her future business partner, mostly because I didn't believe any of it. How was that possible, after all? A teenage genius. Please. Dexter already did that when he was ten... but then again, he was a cartoon character. I sighed. I really needed to start watching shows besides One Tree Hill and cartoons. "All right, Mom. I want to see what Mr. Nelson says about him."

To Izumi Eijiro:

Greetings!

I have promised to send you details on Mr. Seto Kaiba, and here they are attached. A picture is also enclosed along with this letter.

Let me begin by saying this young man has a lot to recommend himself with. He is incredibly intelligent and a quick student, rising to the top of his class at Domino High each year. He is exceptionally learned in the fields of math and science; being both an inventor and a businessman he cannot help but be so. Also, he excels in logic, which allows him to formulate great tactics and stratagems in Duel Monsters.

The raw facts, though, are these: eighteen years old, Seto Kaiba inherited the company from his adoptive father. He has a younger brother, Mokuba Kaiba (his brother by blood, also adopted by their father), whose company he enjoys very much.

However, it is said that Mr. Kaiba sometimes has his self-centered and arrogant tendencies. Still, who can blame the young man? He has much to boast about. But I cannot prove this, as I have not seen this side of him at all. It is true that he is extremely businesslike and cool, though that is the way with most businessmen. I pray you will not see this side, either.

In any case, I wish you good luck with your new partner.

Sincerely,
Garret Nelson
CEO of International Entertainment

I gave a little huff as I looked back at my mother, who was watching me expectantly. Everything Mom and Mr. Nelson said about this guy was entirely to his benefit, and I was sure that I couldn't believe them as yet. I guessed the only way to shirk off my mother's expectant glances was to play along with it for a while. "Well," I said with a mock resigned sigh, "He seems to think as highly of Mr. Seto Kaiba as you do, if not more so. That settles it Mr. Kaiba is perfect."

"Dont get any ideas, Hana, you're only seventeen and youre not allowed to have boyfriends," she joked, pinching my cheek teasingly. She had loved doing that since I was little, and obviously her habit was carried on until my teenage years. She just adored teasing me to no end, and sometimes it drove me off my rocker, when it wasn't making me laugh out loud. This time, I couldn't decide which it was, because her presumption was so ridiculous I hardly thought it up to her usual teasing standards. "It's the price of having stricter parents, darling. You get to meet the most interesting people, but you're on a no-touch basis."

I stemmed my laughter and gave a mock pout. When my mother's tease mode was on, I had to go with the flow, because there was nothing else I could have possibly done at the moment. So I put on my best pout and biggest puppy-dog eyes as I asked, "Why not?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to?"

I colored. "Of course not!" I said quickly, waving my hands up in the air defensively. "Mom, what are you talking about? Cant you tell when Im kidding? Please!"

"Um... why are you getting so defensive, Hana?" she said with a laugh. "But it's all right. Mr. Kaiba is handsome, isn't he? I'm sure he has a lot of giggling groupies knocking at Kaiba Corp's door."

I smirked as I turned my attention to the plane's window. "Maybe. But if there are, I sure don't want to be one of them."

xxx

I collapsed on the plush orange chair in my apple-green colored room. The house we were staying in used to belong to a friend of Mom's, who had recently moved to Kyushu and sold us her home. This room which I now call mine was a guest room, and the movers had already set in all the furniture I had picked out and had shipped from our house back in the United States. I adored bright colors, especially the ones I had loaded my room with - apple green for the wall paint, orange for my plush chair, vivid red for my bedcovers, bright blue for the carpeting - so my room looked like a fruit basket, but I didn't care. I actually quite liked it that way, and one of my favorite pieces was a jelly-yellow telephone hanging on the wall. It was the only thing in its proper place, and was already connected. My wardrobe, which was still empty and practically the only white object in my room, had two big boxes for all my clothes in front of it; smaller boxes sat on the computer chair in front of the study desk, and they held my laptop and other studying materials. My books were in their own boxes beside the empty bookcase.

Speaking of the telephone, it suddenly rang while I was busy lounging on that gloriously soft plush chair - and I was almost grumbling as I stood to pick it up. I knew my mother was downstairs, helping the movers put the pieces of furniture in their places, and the telephone downstairs hadn't been connected yet. She had also told me before that she hadn't had the phone line changed after her friend left; however, she had given her co-workers the telephone number beforehand. I wondered if I could just say it was a wrong number and hang up, because I was too lazy to go and get my mother if she was the one needed on the line. Besides, it would have taken forever, and I would have been doing the poor guy a favor by letting him off the hook so quickly.

In any case, I strode over to the phone and picked it up, putting on my best, cheeriest voice as I answered it. "Hello?" I said into the candy-colored receiver that was pressed against my face.

"Good afternoon, may I please speak to Mrs. Izumi Eijiro?" the person from the other end of the line asked. It was a he - his voice was deep, and rather gravelly. It was forceful, demanding, and yet had a very alluring quality to it. Liquidity, I guessed it was. The words seemed to roll off his tongue. I cringed at the mental image, and even more at the fact that he had asked for my mother. I was going to have to go downstairs, and I wanted to delay that happening as much as possible.

"May I please know who is speaking?" I asked courteously, in the manner the man had asked for my mother. I supposed it was one of her business associates back in America, because his English was excellent, and I wasn't sure if anyone from around here spoke it that well. But then again, that was probably my American upbringing talking.

"I'm rather busy, so would you mind taking a message?" the voice said, to which I replied that I wouldn't mind at all before I went and took some paper and a pen, and I bid him continue. He did, saying, "Please tell Mrs. Eijiro that Seto Kaiba called. I heard she arrived only this morning with her daughter, and I would like to invite them both to dinner at my home to talk about a certain business venture. My chauffer will pick them up at seven o' clock this evening, and please tell them that I wish for them to be formally dressed. Did you take all that down?"

I had to muffle a giggle as I dragged the pen on the paper with my infamous scrawl. "Perfectly," I answered with a grin, adding, "Thank you for calling, Mr. Kaiba, I'll be certain to tell Mrs. Eijiro you called." I put down the phone and looked down at what I wrote, wondering if my mother would get it straightaway; she probably would, considering how sharp she was. I resisted the giggle fit that was threatening to come out as I reread my near-indiscernible scrawl:

Hot guy invites us for dinner at seven to talk business.

I decided it might be a good idea to get rid of this note once Dad arrived he was the jealous type, after all. With a laugh on the tip of my tongue I started to move towards the stairs, all my previous laziness completely forgotten.