"Sevenfold" Yellow: Wrath
Color: Yellow
Sin: Wrath
Chapter Title: Pineapple, Anyone? (20/49)
Word Count: 2557
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Yellow:Wrath
There was a duelist-only preliminary round first, they had said. In a few days they would fly out to join him, they had said.
But there was no dueling tournament, no preliminary round, and he was certain that they wouldn’t be flying out to join him because they must have known that the moment he saw them he was going to kill them. No one sent Kaiba Seto to a foreign country with no money, no connection to KaibaCorp. - and a suitcase full of... full of... Clothes of the very, very, very non-trench coat variety - unless they were ready and willing to suffer a drawn-out, painful death. Well, he had to mentally amend, no one but Mokuba - and Mazaki, apparently.
Perhaps death was a rather severe punishment, but holding up the loud, bright-yellow, hibiscus and parrot printed shirt Mokuba had provided him with... Well, their deaths seemed like the very least he could do. The lime green shirt that followed, while vaguely less offensive to any sense of style he had, only added fuel to his fire. As did the two sleeveless shirts - that Mokuba must realize he would never wear - the two pairs of blue and white bathing suits that were obviously supposed to serve as shorts, and the thonged sandals that, while obviously shoe-like, would not serve as proper cover for his feet at all.
Not to mention the nice little note telling him to have a good time and enjoy himself.
His traveling clothes were sweaty and wrinkled - and altogether completely uncomfortable. He would have to change if he wanted to go out, and he certainly wanted to go out - even if there wasn’t a dueling tournament to attend, Seto had no desire to be stuck in his hotel room all day. Which meant that is time for the hideously yellow, hibiscus and parrot printed shirt - that was as much a punishment to the ones who saw it as to the one wearing it - to finally make its first grand appearance in public. Paired with blue shorts and black flip-flops (that Seto was sure felt as cheap as they looked).
He took a quick shower to rid himself of the grime of his trip, then - quite reluctantly - put on the atrocious outfit his brother had packed for him.
It did not look good.
And just as he pondered the price of mirrors and whether the hotel would really mind if one broke, there was a knock on his door. Muttering words under his breath that only the most seasoned sailors knew, he stormed over and wrenched it open.
“What,” he asked venomously, his voice dripping with acid and ill-temper, “do you want?”
The only thing the offending knocker did was meet his words with a cheery smile. “Aloha, Mr. Kaiba! Welcome to Grand Resort!” He held out an arm full of white, fluffy towels. “Is your room to your liking? I have towels if you need any!”
Seto stared at him, as though trying to decide which method of homicide would be the most effective.
The man’s smile widened. “And, as a very special treat...” His smile turned to a happy grin as he held up a plate and a large yellow pineapple. “I have pineapple! It’s complementary for our higher class guests. Would you like - “
“No.” Seto glared. “I would not like any pineapple.”
“That’s fine,” the man said, his attitude far too chipper for someone receiving the sort of glare Seto was giving him. “And... the towels?”
Seto glared at them suspiciously before snatching them out of the man’s hand. “I suppose those might come in handy.”
The man nodded. “Very good, sir! Well, if you need anything don’t hesitate to let us know! We are here to keep our guests as happy as possible.” And with another 1000-watt smile and a wave, he was off down the hallway, whistling a merry tune as he went.
“Repulsive,” Seto muttered as he shut the door. He shook his head and threw the towels on a chair by the door. If he was going out, then he might as well get going - with no wallet there was little he could do. In the pocket of his trunks, however, he had found a ticket for an island bus tour. Mokuba’s idea of “fun” obviously.
With a sneer, he headed out, hoping that his murderous urge would be curbed by the time he returned.
To his great dismay, it was only augmented.
The tour had been on a bus, and it had been hot. And unpleasant. And filled with bugs - and other tourists. If there was one thing Seto abhorred - apart from all the things he abhorred normally - it was tourists. They were noisy, ignorant, annoying, and there were always far too many of them.
He could have ignored the massive dose of humanity, however, had it not been for one irritating little instance - he had been recognized. So not only did he have people huddled around him in awe, he had them all asking for autographs and speaking to him as though he didn’t understand English. It would have been quite a bother under normal circumstances, but if any of those bastards had used a camera on him...
Well. He’d just be doing his part to stifle the over population.
So, with the proverbial storm clouds hovering over him, Seto made his way back to the hotel. Mokuba had, thank every ounce of good sense the boy had, set up a tab so Seto could, at least, eat. The hotel had a diner, a fancy restaurant, and a karaoke bar. Seto grabbed something from the diner - spam? What the hell was spam? - then headed directly back up to his room. Though he wasn’t any more pleased with his situation, his hunger was gone and - just to perk him up - he thought he had made the small boy who had run into him getting out of the elevator cry.
He had his cell phone, but it hadn’t done him much good - Mokuba had, apparently, told all the KaibaCorp. employees that he didn’t want to be disturbed, and they weren’t even to answer the phone if he called. However, Mokuba could be reached, and a good chewing out was exactly what Seto needed to cheer him up.
So he dialed the number and waited for the unsuspecting victim to answer.
“Hello? This is Mokuba speaking.”
“Hello, Mokuba. This is Seto.”
Nervous laughter came over the line. “Seto! Wow, great to hear from you! Are you enjoying yourself? Having a good trip?”
Seto growled. “Enjoying myself? Having a good trip? Mokuba, you sure as hell better be glad that your ass is still in - “
“Whoa! Calm down there, bro.” Mokuba laughed cheerfully. “What’s the problem? I thought you said you were looking forward to the vacation.”
“No. I was looking forward to the dueling tournament you said you signed me up for. But Mokuba... There was no dueling tournament!”
“Really? No dueling tournament? Well fancy that. I’ll make sure to get your money back.”
Seto tightened his grip on the phone so much the plastic body was strained. “Mokuba, I - “
There was a knock on the door.
Seto growled again. “Give me one second, Mokuba - this conversation is not over.” He marched over to the door. “What the hell is it?” he snarled, pulling the door open with enough force to nearly knock it off its hinges.
Another smiling hotel employee faced him. “Hello, sir. As a distinguished guest, it’s our pleasure to provide you with all the comforts of home and many extra perks to make your trip an enjoyable one.” She held up a pineapple. Seto’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And since you’re such an illustrious personage and we’re so very honored to have you staying with us, it is my honor to present you with - “
“I have been over this once already,” he said slowly, his voice soft. The spring coiled tighter and tighter - and if it went off... “I do not want any pineapple. I will not want any pineapple. And if you do not get out my sight this instant, I am going to take that pineapple and see how much you want it after I am through - “
“I’m sorry, sir!” she yelped, not at all interested in hearing the rest of the threat. I’m sorry! So sorry! No pineapple - got it; not a problem. Goodbye. Have a nice stay!” And with that shrill farewell, she walked off down the hall as fast as her legs could take her.
Seto glared at her retreating back, hatred in his eyes. The management would be receiving an anonymous call once he got home, that was for sure. Shutting the door and bolting it, he once again picked up the phone.
“Mokuba?”
“Yeah, still here, Seto. What was that about?”
Seto grit his teeth. “Nothing. It was nothing. Now, I want you to explain to me why you pulled this stunt, and tell me when I am getting off this damned island.”
“Well even though that dueling tournament was cancelled - “
“Not cancelled. You deliberately deceived me.”
Mokuba ignored him. “You have reservations for another four days! Just enjoy the time off - you really need it, you know. And besides, I’ll be coming out to stay with you soon!”
“Yes, about that - when you and Mazaki c-“
“No, Anzu’s not flying out with me.”
Seto didn’t speak for a moment. “What?”
“Ahh! Yeah, guess I should have mentioned earlier. It’s just gonna be me. Sorry about that, Seto!” Before his brother could respond - and in all probability threaten him - Mokuba quickly said, “And I guess that’s it, then! Well I’ll be out there tomorrow night. Have fun til then! See you soon. Bye!”
And then Mokuba hung up and Seto was standing there with the phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone.
Things just kept going so well. There was nothing to do. Seto certainly wasn’t venturing outside the hotel again; it was getting late anyway, and most things would probably close before he found a way to get money and then transportation to the appropriate place. He glanced at the mirror and to his disgust, realized he still wore the hideous yellow shirt. The parrots were laughing at him.
With no undue amount of gusto, he unbuttoned the shirt and threw it onto the carpet. He still had the coat he had worn on the plane, so he could wear one of the other shirts - and have less people see it. He combed his hair, then pulled on a navy blue shirt with no sleeves and his coat. And then realized he was still wearing those ridiculous swim trunks. And that his pants were being laundered.
He clenched his hands into fists and suppressed an aggravated growl. Throwing his coat onto the bed and shoving the rubber flip-flops back on his feet, he stormed out of his room, leaving a trail of whimpering employees and guests in his wake. He was rather miffed that he was dressed a bit too casually for the real restaurant the hotel offered, but upon further consideration he decided that he really didn’t give a damn and he barged right in there anyway.
The food, against all his expectations, was delicious.
Slightly appeased and in a relatively un-murderous humor, he went back to his hotel room. There was nothing else for him to do anyway. He flipped the television on to a news channel, then went into the bedroom and changed into the only pajamas his brother had packed for him: a pair of dark pants decorated playfully with the heads of blue-eyes white dragons. Seto was not amused. He called the front desk to ask for a wake-up call. He was figuring out a way to get out before Mokuba got there. He didn’t care what it took; he’d start early and he would find a way home.
An hour later, his eyes were feeling heavy. He turned off the television and the light in the small living room area. One foot was in the bedroom when he heard another knock. Flying into a rage, he raced to the door.
Only to realize that the knocking was coming from inside his room. He stopped in his tracks and listened. Then turned and noticed something he hadn’t before. There was a door - a door connecting his room with the one beside it. And the fool occupying it dared disturb him? Oh, that wouldn’t do at all.
Seto sneered at the very thought of the plump, unpleasant vacationer he was sure lurked in the next room. He took a deep breath to prepare for the verbal onslaught he intended to deliver, then opened the door.
Words were completely forgotten.
“Oh my. I had no idea that you were my neighbor, Mr. Kaiba.” Anzu, standing in the doorway between their rooms, smiled at him. He stared. She wasn’t supposed to be there. Mokuba had said that... Had said that she wouldn’t be flying in with him. Of course she wouldn’t, not if she was already there.
Seto smirked.
She returned the expression whole-heartedly. She was dressed strangely - wearing a lemon yellow bikini that was more string than anything else. If that wasn’t the skimpiest piece of swim wear ever made, then he wasn’t worth his own name. All anger left him immediately at the sight of her.
“Going for a... dip?” he asked lightly.
She smiled. “I was thinking about it. But...” For a moment, she looked down forlornly. “I’m afraid that I can’t. It would be so embarrassing - “ Her hand reached behind her back. “-if my bathing suit just happened to...” She grinned and untied the strings of her top. “Slip off.”
Seto’s bad mood vanished the moment her breasts came into view.
“Yes,” he said, “that would be a tragedy. But I think I know how you could solve that problem.”
“Oh really?” Anzu took a step closer and blinked, looking up at him innocently. “How?”
He grinned. “Just don’t wear it at all.”
xXx
Seto woke up beside Anzu the next morning, warm and satisfied. Already the vacation was looking up.
Until he heard a knock at the door.
Oh, there was only so much a man could take - and they had crossed the line. He got up slowly, not even thinking about the wake-up call he had asked for the previous evening. Walking towards the door, his rage grew. How dare they intrude! How dare they bother him so early! How dare they interrupt his vacation with another trivial matter!
He opened the door. Standing in the hallway was another smiling hotel employee. After meeting Seto’s eyes, his smile wilted. “Um... th-this is your wake-up call, sir, and...” And then it happened - the man held up a large, yellow fruit.
The incident was talked about for weeks afterwards. Though no one could prove it, people said that the roar could be heard two or three floors away, leaving employees trembling, guests leaving, and babies crying.
“NO! I DON’T WANT ANY FUCKING PINEAPPLE.”
~~~
Previous ♥ Next
Sin: Wrath
Chapter Title: Pineapple, Anyone? (20/49)
Word Count: 2557
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Yellow:Wrath
There was a duelist-only preliminary round first, they had said. In a few days they would fly out to join him, they had said.
But there was no dueling tournament, no preliminary round, and he was certain that they wouldn’t be flying out to join him because they must have known that the moment he saw them he was going to kill them. No one sent Kaiba Seto to a foreign country with no money, no connection to KaibaCorp. - and a suitcase full of... full of... Clothes of the very, very, very non-trench coat variety - unless they were ready and willing to suffer a drawn-out, painful death. Well, he had to mentally amend, no one but Mokuba - and Mazaki, apparently.
Perhaps death was a rather severe punishment, but holding up the loud, bright-yellow, hibiscus and parrot printed shirt Mokuba had provided him with... Well, their deaths seemed like the very least he could do. The lime green shirt that followed, while vaguely less offensive to any sense of style he had, only added fuel to his fire. As did the two sleeveless shirts - that Mokuba must realize he would never wear - the two pairs of blue and white bathing suits that were obviously supposed to serve as shorts, and the thonged sandals that, while obviously shoe-like, would not serve as proper cover for his feet at all.
Not to mention the nice little note telling him to have a good time and enjoy himself.
His traveling clothes were sweaty and wrinkled - and altogether completely uncomfortable. He would have to change if he wanted to go out, and he certainly wanted to go out - even if there wasn’t a dueling tournament to attend, Seto had no desire to be stuck in his hotel room all day. Which meant that is time for the hideously yellow, hibiscus and parrot printed shirt - that was as much a punishment to the ones who saw it as to the one wearing it - to finally make its first grand appearance in public. Paired with blue shorts and black flip-flops (that Seto was sure felt as cheap as they looked).
He took a quick shower to rid himself of the grime of his trip, then - quite reluctantly - put on the atrocious outfit his brother had packed for him.
It did not look good.
And just as he pondered the price of mirrors and whether the hotel would really mind if one broke, there was a knock on his door. Muttering words under his breath that only the most seasoned sailors knew, he stormed over and wrenched it open.
“What,” he asked venomously, his voice dripping with acid and ill-temper, “do you want?”
The only thing the offending knocker did was meet his words with a cheery smile. “Aloha, Mr. Kaiba! Welcome to Grand Resort!” He held out an arm full of white, fluffy towels. “Is your room to your liking? I have towels if you need any!”
Seto stared at him, as though trying to decide which method of homicide would be the most effective.
The man’s smile widened. “And, as a very special treat...” His smile turned to a happy grin as he held up a plate and a large yellow pineapple. “I have pineapple! It’s complementary for our higher class guests. Would you like - “
“No.” Seto glared. “I would not like any pineapple.”
“That’s fine,” the man said, his attitude far too chipper for someone receiving the sort of glare Seto was giving him. “And... the towels?”
Seto glared at them suspiciously before snatching them out of the man’s hand. “I suppose those might come in handy.”
The man nodded. “Very good, sir! Well, if you need anything don’t hesitate to let us know! We are here to keep our guests as happy as possible.” And with another 1000-watt smile and a wave, he was off down the hallway, whistling a merry tune as he went.
“Repulsive,” Seto muttered as he shut the door. He shook his head and threw the towels on a chair by the door. If he was going out, then he might as well get going - with no wallet there was little he could do. In the pocket of his trunks, however, he had found a ticket for an island bus tour. Mokuba’s idea of “fun” obviously.
With a sneer, he headed out, hoping that his murderous urge would be curbed by the time he returned.
To his great dismay, it was only augmented.
The tour had been on a bus, and it had been hot. And unpleasant. And filled with bugs - and other tourists. If there was one thing Seto abhorred - apart from all the things he abhorred normally - it was tourists. They were noisy, ignorant, annoying, and there were always far too many of them.
He could have ignored the massive dose of humanity, however, had it not been for one irritating little instance - he had been recognized. So not only did he have people huddled around him in awe, he had them all asking for autographs and speaking to him as though he didn’t understand English. It would have been quite a bother under normal circumstances, but if any of those bastards had used a camera on him...
Well. He’d just be doing his part to stifle the over population.
So, with the proverbial storm clouds hovering over him, Seto made his way back to the hotel. Mokuba had, thank every ounce of good sense the boy had, set up a tab so Seto could, at least, eat. The hotel had a diner, a fancy restaurant, and a karaoke bar. Seto grabbed something from the diner - spam? What the hell was spam? - then headed directly back up to his room. Though he wasn’t any more pleased with his situation, his hunger was gone and - just to perk him up - he thought he had made the small boy who had run into him getting out of the elevator cry.
He had his cell phone, but it hadn’t done him much good - Mokuba had, apparently, told all the KaibaCorp. employees that he didn’t want to be disturbed, and they weren’t even to answer the phone if he called. However, Mokuba could be reached, and a good chewing out was exactly what Seto needed to cheer him up.
So he dialed the number and waited for the unsuspecting victim to answer.
“Hello? This is Mokuba speaking.”
“Hello, Mokuba. This is Seto.”
Nervous laughter came over the line. “Seto! Wow, great to hear from you! Are you enjoying yourself? Having a good trip?”
Seto growled. “Enjoying myself? Having a good trip? Mokuba, you sure as hell better be glad that your ass is still in - “
“Whoa! Calm down there, bro.” Mokuba laughed cheerfully. “What’s the problem? I thought you said you were looking forward to the vacation.”
“No. I was looking forward to the dueling tournament you said you signed me up for. But Mokuba... There was no dueling tournament!”
“Really? No dueling tournament? Well fancy that. I’ll make sure to get your money back.”
Seto tightened his grip on the phone so much the plastic body was strained. “Mokuba, I - “
There was a knock on the door.
Seto growled again. “Give me one second, Mokuba - this conversation is not over.” He marched over to the door. “What the hell is it?” he snarled, pulling the door open with enough force to nearly knock it off its hinges.
Another smiling hotel employee faced him. “Hello, sir. As a distinguished guest, it’s our pleasure to provide you with all the comforts of home and many extra perks to make your trip an enjoyable one.” She held up a pineapple. Seto’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And since you’re such an illustrious personage and we’re so very honored to have you staying with us, it is my honor to present you with - “
“I have been over this once already,” he said slowly, his voice soft. The spring coiled tighter and tighter - and if it went off... “I do not want any pineapple. I will not want any pineapple. And if you do not get out my sight this instant, I am going to take that pineapple and see how much you want it after I am through - “
“I’m sorry, sir!” she yelped, not at all interested in hearing the rest of the threat. I’m sorry! So sorry! No pineapple - got it; not a problem. Goodbye. Have a nice stay!” And with that shrill farewell, she walked off down the hall as fast as her legs could take her.
Seto glared at her retreating back, hatred in his eyes. The management would be receiving an anonymous call once he got home, that was for sure. Shutting the door and bolting it, he once again picked up the phone.
“Mokuba?”
“Yeah, still here, Seto. What was that about?”
Seto grit his teeth. “Nothing. It was nothing. Now, I want you to explain to me why you pulled this stunt, and tell me when I am getting off this damned island.”
“Well even though that dueling tournament was cancelled - “
“Not cancelled. You deliberately deceived me.”
Mokuba ignored him. “You have reservations for another four days! Just enjoy the time off - you really need it, you know. And besides, I’ll be coming out to stay with you soon!”
“Yes, about that - when you and Mazaki c-“
“No, Anzu’s not flying out with me.”
Seto didn’t speak for a moment. “What?”
“Ahh! Yeah, guess I should have mentioned earlier. It’s just gonna be me. Sorry about that, Seto!” Before his brother could respond - and in all probability threaten him - Mokuba quickly said, “And I guess that’s it, then! Well I’ll be out there tomorrow night. Have fun til then! See you soon. Bye!”
And then Mokuba hung up and Seto was standing there with the phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone.
Things just kept going so well. There was nothing to do. Seto certainly wasn’t venturing outside the hotel again; it was getting late anyway, and most things would probably close before he found a way to get money and then transportation to the appropriate place. He glanced at the mirror and to his disgust, realized he still wore the hideous yellow shirt. The parrots were laughing at him.
With no undue amount of gusto, he unbuttoned the shirt and threw it onto the carpet. He still had the coat he had worn on the plane, so he could wear one of the other shirts - and have less people see it. He combed his hair, then pulled on a navy blue shirt with no sleeves and his coat. And then realized he was still wearing those ridiculous swim trunks. And that his pants were being laundered.
He clenched his hands into fists and suppressed an aggravated growl. Throwing his coat onto the bed and shoving the rubber flip-flops back on his feet, he stormed out of his room, leaving a trail of whimpering employees and guests in his wake. He was rather miffed that he was dressed a bit too casually for the real restaurant the hotel offered, but upon further consideration he decided that he really didn’t give a damn and he barged right in there anyway.
The food, against all his expectations, was delicious.
Slightly appeased and in a relatively un-murderous humor, he went back to his hotel room. There was nothing else for him to do anyway. He flipped the television on to a news channel, then went into the bedroom and changed into the only pajamas his brother had packed for him: a pair of dark pants decorated playfully with the heads of blue-eyes white dragons. Seto was not amused. He called the front desk to ask for a wake-up call. He was figuring out a way to get out before Mokuba got there. He didn’t care what it took; he’d start early and he would find a way home.
An hour later, his eyes were feeling heavy. He turned off the television and the light in the small living room area. One foot was in the bedroom when he heard another knock. Flying into a rage, he raced to the door.
Only to realize that the knocking was coming from inside his room. He stopped in his tracks and listened. Then turned and noticed something he hadn’t before. There was a door - a door connecting his room with the one beside it. And the fool occupying it dared disturb him? Oh, that wouldn’t do at all.
Seto sneered at the very thought of the plump, unpleasant vacationer he was sure lurked in the next room. He took a deep breath to prepare for the verbal onslaught he intended to deliver, then opened the door.
Words were completely forgotten.
“Oh my. I had no idea that you were my neighbor, Mr. Kaiba.” Anzu, standing in the doorway between their rooms, smiled at him. He stared. She wasn’t supposed to be there. Mokuba had said that... Had said that she wouldn’t be flying in with him. Of course she wouldn’t, not if she was already there.
Seto smirked.
She returned the expression whole-heartedly. She was dressed strangely - wearing a lemon yellow bikini that was more string than anything else. If that wasn’t the skimpiest piece of swim wear ever made, then he wasn’t worth his own name. All anger left him immediately at the sight of her.
“Going for a... dip?” he asked lightly.
She smiled. “I was thinking about it. But...” For a moment, she looked down forlornly. “I’m afraid that I can’t. It would be so embarrassing - “ Her hand reached behind her back. “-if my bathing suit just happened to...” She grinned and untied the strings of her top. “Slip off.”
Seto’s bad mood vanished the moment her breasts came into view.
“Yes,” he said, “that would be a tragedy. But I think I know how you could solve that problem.”
“Oh really?” Anzu took a step closer and blinked, looking up at him innocently. “How?”
He grinned. “Just don’t wear it at all.”
xXx
Seto woke up beside Anzu the next morning, warm and satisfied. Already the vacation was looking up.
Until he heard a knock at the door.
Oh, there was only so much a man could take - and they had crossed the line. He got up slowly, not even thinking about the wake-up call he had asked for the previous evening. Walking towards the door, his rage grew. How dare they intrude! How dare they bother him so early! How dare they interrupt his vacation with another trivial matter!
He opened the door. Standing in the hallway was another smiling hotel employee. After meeting Seto’s eyes, his smile wilted. “Um... th-this is your wake-up call, sir, and...” And then it happened - the man held up a large, yellow fruit.
The incident was talked about for weeks afterwards. Though no one could prove it, people said that the roar could be heard two or three floors away, leaving employees trembling, guests leaving, and babies crying.
“NO! I DON’T WANT ANY FUCKING PINEAPPLE.”
~~~
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