You are 17; you have short blonde hair with dark red streaks and clear blue eyes. Your bangs hang in your face and you flip them away silently. Your ears are pierced four times, three at the bottom and once at the top in the cartilage. You are hourglass in figure with a model’s physique. You are clad in black cargos and a tight-fitting anarchy shirt with no sleeves. A studded wristband adorns one wrist and your Vans are packed with all your cash below your heels. $5000. Your messenger bag is all you have with you besides the clothes on your back. You’re waiting for a plane headed for freedom, leaving all of your problems and bloodied past behind you.
What are you to expect? What may Tokyo hold for you?
Your passport is clutched in one hand and your ticket in the other as you wait for the plane to start boarding. A man comes up to you and asks if your luggage is secure. You nod, he scurries away.
People, you think to yourself. God I hate people.
It is then that someone sits down beside you. You pay no attention.
It’s just another passenger waiting to board a plane.
You stare down at your passport the name burning in your brain.
What kind of bitch last name is devlin?
Your mother, that’s what kind of bitch, named her kid devlin. It’s not just you though; your brother is named duke.
Duke, you were going to miss him. He was a cute kid. He was your life. But America wasn’t where you were willing to stay. Not even for duke. Your mother and father could find you in America. You had to go where your past wouldn’t follow you.
On the other side of the world.
You pulled a picture out of your pocket. It was of an 8-year-old boy with short black hair and big brown eyes. You were beside him, holding the camera in front of you. It was you and Duke.
I’m going to miss ya Duke.
The person beside you stirred as if from a deep sleep. You looked up. He looked about 18, with short brown hair and lightly tanned skin. His half-open eyes were deep blue. He had thin lips and a pointed nose. He was wearing a long, white, open coat, with black sleeves. He had three belts on each arm, all three of them above the elbow. Metal wristbands that looked much like very thin gauntlets clutched his forearms and under his coat was black clothing. His high collar had the letters “KC” embroided in it. A metal briefcase lay on his lap and a necklace of one strip of black letter with a card face down on his chest hung about his neck.
He smirked as he caught you staring and you quickly looked into his face. You weren’t to be embarrassed.
“Where you going?” he asked softly.
Maybe if I don’t look at him and keep my answers short he’ll shut up and let me be.
You huffed. He was staring at you. Why?
You flipped your bangs out of your face as he tried again to create small talk.
“Which plane are you going on?”
“Flight 67. You?”
“Same. What seat do you have?”
“Aisle. Number 72.”
He nodded and smirked. “You don’t want to talk to me do you?”
You turned to him. “No. I don’t.”
That seemed to amuse him.
“My name is Seto Kaiba, you might want to start getting to know me. I’m your partner by the window, seat number 71. It’s a long flight to Tokyo.”
You gritted your teeth.
I’m stuck beside this smart-ass? I can’t believe it.
“Have you ever been on a plane before?”
There he goes again, with the freakin’ small talk.
“No. This is my first time. You?”
“I go back and forth with my job.”
“What do you do?”
Amused again, I see.
“I’m the head CEO of Kaiba Corp.”
It was your turn to be amused. He seemed so proud of his statement.
“Never heard of it.”
Instead of faltering and shutting up, as you had hoped, he smirked.
“That’s because it’s in Tokyo. You’ve been in America all your life.”
You stifled a small groan.
Will anything shut this guy UP?
“What’s taking you to Tokyo?” he asked. He seemed to be very focused on getting to know you.
You couldn’t tell him your entire life story, so you decided to just answer his question and save the crap.
“I decided it’s the best place to go.”
You shrugged, pretending to not have a reason. “I just want to go.”
“What’s there for you? It seems pretty far away for a young girl to just get up and go to for no reason.”
You just sat there thinking.
Why am I going? What am I thinking? I have reason enough, but how am I supposed to get started? Where do I go? $5000 isn’t enough for a house and I won’t even think of an apartment until I get a job.
“Nothing. Nothing is there for me. I just want to get as far away from here as I can.”
THAT shut him up. He seemed stunned by your comment.
It was a few moments before he said anything, and when he did it took all of what you had to keep from spilling the beans of your past all over his lap.
“It’s family trouble, isn’t it?”
You sighed. “Yeah.”
Seto held his arm out as if deciding whether to hold your hand or hug you, and then he pulled it behind his neck as if to scratch.
“You probably don’t want to talk about that… Are you afraid of heights?”
You looked up at him. He had a comforting smirk on his face and you couldn’t help but smile. He was really cute. “No, I’m not.”
“Do you want the window seat?”