"Caught in a Snowstorm" by SilvernFalcon

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Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. I do own the plot, though. Take it and die!
Idea Created On: April-May 2004 [exact date unknown]
Started On: February 5, 2005
Finished On: August 29, 2005


[A/N]: Yay, a new one-shot for you people. Heh. This is proof that I'm lazy and procrastinate for months, seeing as I came up with it and wrote the draft in April-May 2004 and didn't have it ready until seven to eight months later... meh, don't shout at me. Just read.


Caught in a Snowstorm

Summary: You and everyone's favorite CEO, Seto Kaiba, both go to a ski resort during winter break, you for fun and the latter for 'a change in scenery'... in other words, Seto has been persuaded by his younger brother to finally take a vacation. In any case, both you and the Prince of Ice end up at the same resort. And, oh goody (note the sarcasm here), during a tour of the mountain and the trails, both of you get separated from your group. To make it worse, a snowstorm starts... [YOUxSeto]


'Finally here!' you think, yawning from exhaustion and stretching. It took a plane ride, a special escort vehicle that could work and run in snow, and several hours to get here, to your final destination and the home of a one-week winter vacation: a ski resort.

'Well, time to go inside,' you think, and open the door to the room that's both the lounge and lobby.

On the outside, the resort looks pretty modern and slightly out of place, but... you have to admit, inside, it's very warm and comfortable. The walls look like those inside of a cabin; half-logs make up the walls, giving off an old-fashioned feel. There is a circular, gold-trimmed red rug on the floor, which is made out of some dark type of wood... maybe mahogany. There is also a fireplace made of rough, pale-gray stone, and a large fire burns and crackles in the grate, spilling orange-colored light to all corners of the room. The other lighting systems- specifically, old-fashioned oil lamps and candlesticks and a single, modern ceiling lamp- are all off, but that's just fine with you. Lastly, thick, velvet crimson curtains hide the room and its golden glow from view, keeping the warmth inside.

You smile, closing the door, and head over to the front desk. In a couple of minutes, everything is sorted out- your room, meals, luggage, transportation, and all the like. "Thank you," you tell the woman, and head to the stairs. You're on the second floor- which is a good thing, since you don't want to have to walk up and down the staircases several times ('There's no elevator in the building!' You tell yourself irritably, 'How can anyone believe that?'). Soon enough, your coat's in the closet, your clothes are in the drawers, and your suitcase is under the bed. Not lingering, you decide to head to the resort's café-restaurant-place.

Once you get there, you sit down at an empty table by the fireplace, and a waitress comes up to you. "Just a hot cocoa, please," you tell her, and it's ready and in front of you in just two minutes. Yay! Anyway, as you swish the contents of the mug with a spoon so that it will cool down a bit, you turn around to memorize the layout of the café-restaurant and to observe the people. But look who's sitting at a table adjacent to the one you're sitting at...

Frozen blue eyes meet your own, and your color eyes widen in surprise.

"Hello, last name," Seto Kaiba, an acquaintance of yours, says emotionlessly, lifting a mug of hot coffee to his lips, "I didn't expect to meet you here."

Your eyes narrow slightly. "Are you sure you're not stalking me?"

"Quite sure; I have plenty of other ways that I can waste my time than stalking you, as you put it." He closes his eyes, indicating that this conversation is over.

You and Seto Kaiba are both at a Colorado ski resort- the Steamboat ski resort, with over one hundred- namely, 142- runs and almost three-thousand- two-thousand, nine hundred and thirty nine, to be exact- acres of ski-able ground. It's a good place for family ski vacations and for expert skiers, not to mention it gets about three hundred and thirty seven inches of snow per year. Or so you read in their brochure.

"What possessed you to take a vacation, anyway?" You ask Kaiba, starting a new conversation after a few minutes of silence, "Last time I checked, you despised them. Forget a week-long vacation, you wouldn't take a sick day off. It looks like I'll have to call and write to all of my friends as soon as possible; the apocalypse is definitely going to be tomorrow." You take a sip of your hot chocolate.

The teen sends you a cold glare with slitted blue eyes, his lashes partly covering them.

"Mokuba," he says simply, acting as though that explains everything. You can't help but smirk a little; you have no doubts that the kid will become a lawyer or a politician someday, seeing as he's so manipulative.

"I see," you say, the humor and amusement clear in your voice. This earns you another spine-tingling glare, and you just give everyone's favorite CEO a wave before heading off.


You sit on your bed that's in your nice, big, comfortable, so-very-pretty suite, reading your manga name graphic novel, not intending to ski tonight. It's just after five o'clock PM, but it's already getting dark. That, and you can't exactly learn much about the mountain with just the ski resort's map. It's just not enough, and it's just not safe.

A knock on the door catches your attention, and you walk over to it once you put down your book, opening it halfway. Seto is there.

"Come on," he says gruffly, "There's supposed to be a tour of the grounds, if you forgot. Everyone's required to be there." You nod in understanding and agreement, heading back inside for a moment and exiting wearing a thick, mid-thigh-length winter coat on top of your sweater and pants. Though you and Seto are walking side by side, neither one of you says a word to the other. In a few minutes, the two of you reach your destination. The tour guide says something about safety procedures, snowstorms, stay close together, blah blah blah, but of course, you ignore all that.

A few minutes later, you and the rest of the group leave the lodge and walk into the nice, icy cold winter air. Like troops marching into battle, you all brave the harsh wind, heads held high, ready to fight to the death- ahem, okay, getting off-topic there. Well, it isn't more than five minutes into the tour than it starts snowing heavily. The tour guide is shouting something to you and Seto, but you can't hear her over the roar of the wind and the heavy snow. In minutes, the two of you- that is, you and Seto- are separated from the rest of the group.

"Damn," you curse, straining to see something- anything- through the thick snow. In fact, there's so much snow, and so many snowflakes, that it's almost pure white... everywhere.

Seto, who is still walking beside you, says something, but the wind tears away the words before they can reach your ears. "What?" You shout, and the scene would've been quite comical- two people about two feet apart, shouting to converse- if it wasn't for the blizzard.

Seto walks over to you, and puts his hands on your shoulders, leaning down close your ear to speak. "We can't wander around like this. Come on, let's dig a shelter." You nod, to show that you've heard. In a couple of minutes, the two of you manage to find a rocky, mountainside overhang, and clear out a small space for yourselves. Both of you get in, and you're surprised to find it's slightly warmer semi-underground than it is outside.

"Guess we just have to sit out and wait through the storm, huh?" You ask in a normal tone; it's quiet in the shelter you and Seto made. Speaking of whom, Seto nods, "Yes. There's no cell phone reception here, there are obviously no phones out here, and I left my laptop at the lodge. And even if I did bring it, since we're here on a mountain... the wireless internet connection wouldn't work. Plus... they won't send out a search party for any of us for at least twelve hours." You can't help but groan.

For several minutes, all is silent. Finally, you ask, "Seto...?"


"What if... what if we die here?"

"We won't."

"You sound so confident. But... we both read The Snows of Mount Kilimanjaro, by Ernest Hemingway. I'm getting kind of... scared; what if...?"

"Name, I'm telling you we won't die. Take my word for it."

"But..." You turn to look at Seto, who sighs and says, "Just go to sleep. Trust me; things will be okay, and the owner of the resort will definitely hear from me."

You pause and then nod, even though Seto doesn't see you since his eyes are closed. Hesitating momentarily, you lay your head down on Seto's chest. He stiffens, probably (mentally) uncomfortable, but (Surprisingly enough) he doesn't complain and allows you to rest and relax. Before you know it, you're asleep.

- You wake up to bright sunlight. Sitting up slightly, you wipe something cold off your face, and realize that the wind had blown off most of the snow. Before climbing out of the overhang, however, your eyes fall on Seto: sleeping peacefully, eyes closed, one arm semi-wrapped around you in a protective, even loving, embrace.


[A/N]: I've never been to that Ski resort mentioned, and since I was five when I visited them, I don't remember how other ski resorts looked like. So don't blame me; the description is whatever came off the top of my head. Also, the whole fic is kinda rushed... sorry about that. Anyway, I actually kind of like this one. As for the relationship between you and Seto... you aren't married, you aren't family, you aren't blood-related, you aren't official boyfriend and girlfriend, but the two of you're fond of each other (even though it doesn't always seem like it, and both of you are kind of afraid to show it and be open about your feelings. Well, anyway... Please review!

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