Story: A Christmas Carol Revised.
Chapter: 1, "The past that haunts us" (Muwaha.)
Merry (EXTREMELY) (belated) Christmas!
Dedications:
To a Mister Charles Dickens. I hope I will meet you in the life
beyond death.
You're a writer who I bow to because I find our
writing sharing a similar sort of…feel.
Series
period/Explanations: This is after the Battle City period, maybe
around the ending of the doom saga/battles with Zigfried.
It's not
relevant.You only need to know that Marik, the evil one, is in the
shadow realm at this time.
The
parody is set in normal times. Everyone is themselves, with the
exception that Marik is accepted as his own person here.
He's a
yami in this and I've created an AE past for him.
If
you're looking for the aforementioned AE past in my stories:
don't count on it.
I'm not there yet and I'm not quite sure if I like
MXM -that- much, anyway.
WARNING: There is one thing about
this story that's not checked for accuracy. I don't know how
Seto's parents died.
I –think- it was a car crash, but I've
never had that confirmed. Also, shonen-ai is littered throughout this
story.
Disclaimer:
Seto: She doesn't own it. Heaven forbid that she will
ever.
Mokuba: She makes no money off of writing this…because
if she did, she'd write more.
Yami: She doesn't want to be sued…
Bakura: She's not worth suing anyway.
Marik: 'Nuff said.
The soft, inconsistent, but never failing rapping at keys seemed to continue eternally through the night as unblinking eyes clouded with thought and the obvious abuse of coffee watched their restless dance. The night called to him with her shrill voice, claiming her ownership of him.
He denied her, again and again, as he looked forward, refusing to look back. He blinked away the weights on his eyes…he shrugged off the embrace of sleep, though its fingers caressed his mind oh-so temptingly…
The computer screen in front of him was never satisfied with the information, the endless hours of work, the mind-crushing calculations that were checked and re-checked enough times to make the numberless stars pale at the amount.
Always, it demanded more. It consumed him. Almost as much as the desire…the desire to see everyone who once pushed him aside now trampled underfoot.
A timid knock at his door drew the attention of blood-shot eyes as they scanned the form now nervously standing before his doorway. He didn't trust his voice now, no. Only his emotionless stare was used to draw the information he wanted.
"Uh…" It was a woman, with sharp-rimmed glasses, a little younger then middle age and a good two feet shorter then him. She cleared her throat. "Mr. Kaiba? There's a phone call for you."
Seto Kaiba scowled. A phone call? Hadn't he just told his secretary that he wasn't to be disturbed? He'd have a discussion with her about that…
"I told you, I don't want to be disturbed. Not with phone calls, not with visitors, not by anyone." Kaiba put an edge in every word to give the full effect of intimidation. It was a sort of skill of his. Yes, Seto Kaiba had raised put-downs to an art form.
His secretary cleared her throat again, fidgeting ever so slightly. "Yes sir, you did. Except…the caller expected such a response and insists that you won't mind talking to him."
Seto dismissed her with a nod and picked up the phone, receiving the call the "old fashion" way. "Hello?"
"Hello, Seto." The voice over the line murmured, sounding relieved and irritated at the same time. "Put me on video, big brother."
"Mokuba? What are you doing up so late?" Seto scowled in concern and switched on the video link so that Mokuba's form appeared on the screen. It was very late, obviously, because Mokuba was rubbing heavy eyelids and sleepy eyes, while decked out in BEWD jammies and was holding a chibi BEWD plushie under one arm.
"Waiting for you, big brother." Mokuba sighed, because, as he suspected, Seto had forgotten. Again.
"Huh?" Seto frowned, feeling something in the pit of his stomach. Mokuba's disappointment was a sure sign that he had forgotten something. Something important.
"You promised to tuck me in tonight." Mokuba mumbled, staring at the floor, hurt. He wanted his brother to come home. Seto didn't have to burn himself out over every little thing…and missing their time together? That just wasn't right.
"Oh." Seto managed, at a loss for real words. He paused for a moment. "Sorry, kiddo. I had some things I needed to take care of." He explained, knowing that Mokuba wouldn't accept the answer. He tried.
"Things that are more important then me?" Mokuba asked, an almost bitter edge in his voice.
"Mokuba. We've had this discussion before. You know nothing is more important to me than you…it's just that I have work that I have to do, and—"
"No, you don't!" Mokuba snapped, dropping his plushie and glaring at his brother. "Not all of it. You can get someone else to help you, brother. Every December you do this. You forget to tuck me in, you barely spend any time with me, you work more than ever…"
"Mokuba…okay, okay. I'll make it up to you, all right?" Seto asked, too tired to listen to another lecture from his little brother and too mentally shut down to form any kind of protest.
"You promise?" Mokuba asked, peering at his brother, skeptical.
"I promise. And…I'll come home and tuck you in, okay?" Seto gave Mokuba a rare, honest smile.
Mokuba remained unconvinced. "When?"
Seto faltered for a second. "Uh…in a few minutes. I have to--"
"Se-to!" Mokuba whined in protest, knowing that a few minutes to Seto was, at the very least, an hour to a normal person. "Not. Later. Now!"
"But, Mokuba--" Seto started, but again, was cut off.
"Now, or you don't really mean it." Mokuba demanded, effectively stopping any future protests. Mokuba watched Seto's reaction intently.
Seto's arguments slipped away from the grasp of his mind and he sighed. "Fine. I'm leaving now. Let me shut off my computer and then I'll come home. I'll be there in around…fifteen minutes."
Mokuba smiled, waved good-bye and hung up to leave an empty screen and a disgruntled C.E.O. Seto exited the system files and shut down his computer. He put away his things, picked up his briefcase and locked his office room with a deep sigh.
His employees were almost all gone, except those who were required to work later hours. They were quickly dismissed and Seto, rather than take the limo, rode in his private helicopter. (Lucky rich-boy.)
---
When he reached his house, he heard the pitter-patter of 12-year-old feet (which is really more like soft thunder) racing up the stairs as quietly as possible. He smirked; knowing Mokuba was going to pretend like he'd been in bed the whole time, waiting like a good boy.
He climbed the stairs and knocked on a red door with a sign that said "Warning: Contents of this room may prove unstable, proceed at your own risk."
"Mokuba?" He called, softly, playing along with Mokuba's scheme.
"Brother?" Mokuba asked, 'sleepily', Seto noted with amusement. He heard soft footfalls nearing the door and watched the knob turn. Mokuba appeared before him in his pjs as before, still holding his favorite plushie.
"Hey, kiddo." Seto greeted, tousling Mokuba's hair affectionately. "You want to be tucked in, right?"
Mokuba giggled and pretended to object to his hair being messed up. "Of course."
"Then why, may I ask, aren't you in bed?" Seto reprimanded, eyeing his little brother with a playfully berating look.
Mokuba rolled his eyes and went back to his bed, almost jumping under the covers. He smiled back at his older brother and waited for him to come closer. Seto obliged and walked up to bedside then carefully tucked in his little brother.
"Don't forget to tuck in blue eyes, too." Mokuba ordered, chuckling under his breath. Seto nodded, faking annoyance at the "childish" demand.
"Of course, Mokuba. As always. Is there anything else you demand, little bro?" Seto asked, pretending to bow to emphasize his point.
Mokuba giggled. "Yes, actually. I wanted to ask you something, Seto…" Mokuba mumbled, looking a little shy now, wondering how his brother would react to his next request. Mokuba pointed to a chair beside the bed.
Seto glanced over at the chair, and catching on, he sat down. He studied Mokuba's expression. "So? What is it?"
"Well," Mokuba started sheepishly, "You know how you promised you make it up to me?"
Seto pursed his lips, not liking where this was going. Not at all. When Mokuba got him to promise something, the kid usually got whatever out of that promise he could. "Yes."
"I was thinking--well, that is, ano…I want a party." Mokuba muttered, almost under his breath.
"A party?" Seto echoed, his imitation of a parrot gained an enthusiastic nod from Mokuba. "Mokuba--" He began slowly, giving his brother a firm, almost disapproving stare.
"Come on, big brother! It won't be so bad! You said you'd make it up to me…you promised!" Mokuba's lower lip slowly tugged on Seto's conscience.
He had to stay strong, though. He slipped into his "negotiation" tone. "And just where would we have this party, assuming I'd agree?"
"Uh…well, here. Our house is big enough and all--I mean, we do live in a mansion and all." Mokuba explained, eyes constantly darting between Seto and the floor.
"Big enough means expensive enough, little brother. If your little friends trash this house, I'll be forced to sue each and every one of their parents. And I have work I need to do, Mokuba. This place would be a mad house." Seto reprimanded, slicing up Mokuba's idea, shred by shred.
"I'd only invite mature people to this party, Seto!" Mokuba insisted, whining.
"Mokuba, I've been to your school. It may be the best in Japan, but the kids there are just little monkeys in uniforms. Not a single one of your friends is mature…unless--" Seto's eyes narrowed as he locked his gaze on his little brother. "No. Way."
Mokuba eeped. "Seto--"
"There is NO way I'm letting Mouto in this mansion, much less handing him an invitation of all things. And that goes triple for his stupid friend, Wheeler! I'd rather jump of a cliff than invite that mutt in my house." Seto snapped, rolling his eyes. Mokuba would ask him to invite them at school and there was no way he'd askJoey to his house.
Ask him to jump off the aforementioned cliff, maybe. Yeeeah…
"Seto! How can you say that? Yugi's really nice, Seto…so is Yami. They've helped us so many times and…you always like dueling him anyway. Besides, what do you have against Joey? He's a cool guy, Seto. Really. Remember how nice he was when we were trapped in that game?" (1) Mokuba asked, running his mouth at a million words per second.
All of which, to his disappointment, Seto heard loud and clear.
"And besides, you guys have something in common!" Mokuba added, smiling.
Seto scoffed. "And what's that?"
"You both love your younger siblings a lot!" Mokuba chimed, grinning as wide as possible, stressing the word "love." "Come on, Seto. Please…I just want to have a small Christmas party and--"
Something in Seto's eyes flashed. "No. Mokuba, I am not having Mouto or Wheeler over at this house. I don't want to have a party. I don't want a Christmas party. And I know what this is about. It's. not. Happening."
"Please, Seto!" Mokuba wailed. "You promised…" He sniffled.
"I promised I'd make it up to you. I said nothing about some dumb party. Ask me for something else. Good night." Seto stood and shut out the lights, then left the room to seek shelter in his own.
Mokuba sighed and felt a couple of disappointed tears roll down his cheeks. "Seto…"
---
Seto sighed and collapsed on his bed, Mokuba's face flashing through every memory and thought in his head. He groaned. He wanted to make his brother happy, yes. He always wanted Mokuba to be happy.
Some days Seto thought he lived solely to run KaibaCorp and to make Mokuba smile.
What Mokuba wanted, though…was for him to have more than that. More of a life. He wanted Seto to have friends, maybe a sweetheart, go out like a normal teenager…
Seto stripped off his clothes and slipped on ash-black, silk pajamas. He sat himself back down on the bed thoughtfully. He sighed…it was December the 23rd. Actually, it was the 24th, now. It was…somewhere around one. Maybe two. A.M., obviously.
Bleh. He didn't care.
Sure, he loved giving Mokuba presents. Mokuba's face always lit up like the little kid he was meant to be. And Mokuba was always really sweet. Seto loved, appreciated, or tolerated whatever Mokuba got him.
However…lately, nights were just a little colder for Seto Kaiba than they should have been, even for December. It was like the ice on the outside fought to be stronger then the ice on the inside.
Seto remembered things easier in December. Things that he'd rather live without remembering.
Lights…ice…a scream…Seto grunted, shrugging off flashes of mental imagery and laid back down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling, glaring at the color…the material…something. Feeling frustrated, wanting to say just something to make himself feel better, he said the first nasty comment that came into his mind and it resounded through the heavens with an echo like ocean's roar.
"I hate Christmas."
---
He was heard quite clearly and fate itself recoiled for a moment, before resetting the future to adapt to the path ahead. Another being heard this, felt the grim changes to come and could no longer hold back the events that must take place.
"Enough. It's time…you first, spirit."
"Do I really have to go like this?"
"We made a deal."
"I…know, but I don't really…I mean…can't I just---"
"NOW, spirit!"
"Eeep. Okay, okay."
---
Seto fell deep into slumber and his sub-conscious slowly drew him into a dream…
The dream:
"Hello there, Seto." A voice addressed him emotionlessly, sounding like audible icicles. If icicles had a voice, this would be it. The Kaiba frowned. No one was supposed to be better at that then him. He turned.
"…Noah?" Seto's eyes narrowed angrily. "What are you doing here, you brat? I already defeated you once, if you came back for more, I'll gladly accommodate you."
Noah glared back. "Oh, shut up, Seto. I didn't come here to fight you. I came here to tell you something."
Seto rolled his eyes. "Like I want to hear anything from you?"
"Oh, you'll wanna hear this." Noah snorted, sneering at Seto. "Because everyone in the entire world wishes you'd lighten up, finally someone has decided to do something about it, before you freeze to death inside your little self-cocoon. All you have to keep you human is Mokuba…and when he's gone? Then what?"
"Oh and I suppose you're the expert on being human? You've been living in a computer for, what, half your life? At least I only work with computers…I'm not a part of one." Seto shot back, glaring.
"Touché, Seto." Noah nodded in acknowledgement. "However, I simply didn't have a life. You chose not to have one, moron."
Seto scoffed and was about to retort, but Noah beat him to it.
"Listen, Seto, I didn't come here to mince words with you. I don't have much time, so listen up and listen good. Because of the path you've chosen, you have a rough journey ahead with a yet uncertain ending…but, Seto, it doesn't look pretty." Here, Noah smirked.
"Whatever. I don't have time for riddles, Noah." Seto snapped, blowing him off as a stupid little kid…in a dream from working too late.
"You're gonna have to make time, Seto. Listen up: You will be visited by three spirits!" Noah thundered, "spookily"...
Seto, unfortunately for Noah, was too busy walking off back into consciousness to care. "Yeah, right…"
"Hey, LISTEN to me! I'm serious!" Noah yelled, stomping off after Seto.
"You're not real. This is a dream. I'm arguing with a figment of my imagination." Seto rolled his eyes. "I don't have to take you seriously, since you're not really here. How could you come back?"
Noah scowled. "That's my business. I'm just doing my job, Seto. And now I'm done, so I'm gone."
"Whatever."
---
Seto awoke with a headache and hazed memory of the dream. He could barely be heard muttering—by who, is yet to come— "Stupid dreams…"
As Seto's tired mind slowly drifted back into the peace of darkness, there came a ghostly chill in the air. He heard the sound of a soft scream and bolted out of bed. His eyes darted to the window, wide-open as he regained his breath and his wits. He scowled at himself, seeing nothing there. 'It was only the wind. What are you afraid of?'
Seto was about to go back to bed, when the windowsill suddenly slammed upward, open and exposed him to the cold winter's air. Wind shrieked through the window into his room and with it came a wraithlike form. It glowed with such brightness that Seto couldn't see.
He shielded his eyes before he heard a voice: a commanding, strong, deep voice.
So…familiar?
"I am the spirit of Christmas past!" The shadowed figure bellowed as each of his words echoed hauntingly. His clothes and bangs were tossed in the winds and his robes flowed behind him like an endless waterfall.
"You've got to be kidding me." Seto snickered, fear vanishing. "Yami? Is that really you? You can't be serious."
Yami glared at Seto for spoiling the moment, the wind dying down. "Unfortunately, Kaiba, I'm quite serious. And right now, I'm not Yami. I'm the spirit of Christmas past."
Seto smirked, still snickering. "And in a dress."
Yami hissed viciously. "Robe! It's a ROBE, stupid! Haven't you ever seen a Scottish kilt? Toga? Stuff like that?"
Seto shrugged, disinterested. "Hey, if you want to wear a dress--"
"IT'S A ROBE! It was an Egyptian thing, KAIBA!" Yami rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine coming on. "Ra, why do I ever bother? If it weren't for Yugi, I swear, I'd be as far away from here as I could get."
"So you're doing...this for Yugi?" Seto raised an eyebrow. His body groaned for sleep, but his mind was far too awake from seeing his greatest rival in drag.
Yami pursed his lips, his eyes just beyond ember filled slits at this point. "Kaiba, I may be forced to refer to you as my friend, but that doesn't mean I like you. However, unfortunately, my aibou is adamant about me participating in this."
Seto rolled his eyes. Yami really WOULD do anything for Yugi. "Whatever. Just get out of my house."
Yami sighed, frustrated. Yugi said that Kaiba should recognize all this stuff...after all, this happened to some other guy long ago or something.
"I'd love to, but no can do." Yami cleared his throat and continued to play the part he'd been assigned. "It's my job to show you scenes from your past in hopes that it will shed light on the path you walk now."
Seto grunted. "Translation?"
Yami put a hand to his face, muttering something about stupid rich kids. Which is a bit strange coming from someone who used to be a spoiled rich kid himself. "I MEAN, I'm here to show you why you're a jerk now."
"Look, little miss thing, I don't care what the heck you're doing here. Get out. Now. Or I'm calling security." Seto snapped, glaring at Yami.
Yami, however, was hissing like a kettle going crazy. He had just been called short, a girl and a cross-dresser all in one. "You…" If the spirit's hair hadn't already been sticking up more then should be humanly possible, it would be now.
The violent winds quickly returned and flooded in the room around them with the vicious force of a hurricane. Yami was about to do something. Something that involved monsters and nightmares and all sorts of dark and spooky things.
Before he could, though, a light much like a thunderbolt appeared in the room, apparently from the ceiling or something. It made Kaiba wonder if the storm was affecting the power. Never mind that there wasn't really a storm. Yami knew better.
"Okay." The pharaoh mumbled dejectedly, shoulders sinking and winds dying. He mumbled some stuff under his breath about priests and brunets, but Seto was too busy eyeing his bed to care.
"If you have to go ballistic on me, Yami, wait until morning. By then, I'll have a camera. Right now, I want sleep." Seto muttered, lumbering back over to his bed, "And I'm serious about calling someone. I have no problem with Yugi having to bail you out of prison for Christmas."
The "spirit of Christmas past" shook his head, waterfall hair splaying everywhere. He snapped his fingers, the same way he would have 3000 years ago and Seto was instantly at his side. "We're going to take a little trip, Kaiba. And it cannot wait until morning."
Seto marveled at the fact that he was no longer standing beside his bed.
Yami rolled his eyes and hit Seto over the head with a golden rod of some sort, earning a blood-shot glare. "Pay attention!" He snapped. "I'm not spending all night on this, so for your sake, you'd better be a fast learner."
Seto attempted to protest, maybe even grab the rod and hit Yami back, but Yami grabbed his arm before he could. The pharaoh pulled him outside, via the window, with amazingly inhuman strength. The C.E.O looked down, violating rule number 6 of the movie handbook and gaped.
They were floating.
…Hey, he could see his house from here! Of course, it was three feet away from him, but still…
"Get me down from here!" Seto demanded, glaring at Yami.
Yami, grinning impishly at the squirming ex-priest, blinked "innocently," before looking around casually and asking "Down from where, Kaiba?"
Seto growled. "Down from…from the air, of course! JUST GET ME DOWN!"
Yami's eyes absolutely danced with laughter. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Seto hissed at him, then, pointing at the ground and about to hurl another roar or insult, Seto realized something. He didn't feel like he was floating any more. He was on solid ground. There were four walls around him, carpet was beneath him and Yami was standing beside him.
"Whatever. Wait, where are we?" Seto demanded, glaring again.
Yami glared back and put a finger to his lips, shushing him. "Quiet. Just watch."
Seto's breath caught in his throat as Yami jerked his thumb over to a small boy next to another child, even smaller then the first. Seto felt everything in the room freeze, his mind drifting back, far, far back.
It was himself…as a child. The other boy was Mokuba. And this…this was the last day that he stayed in this house. Before he could draw another shaky breath, he saw faces he'd not seen in years and barely remembered at all…
"How…?"
Yami watched Seto intently, but hushed him again. He understood what Seto was feeling. Coming back to memories long forgotten, watching your own life play out like an old movie…it was a feeling all too familiar. "Just watch."
"Mom…you guys will be home soon, right?" Little Seto asked, looking up at his mom and dad intently.
His father laughed and nodded, his mother hugged him reassuringly. "Absolutely, kiddo. You'll take good cake of Mokie for us, won't you?" His father asked, smiling at his oldest son.
Seto nodded affirmatively, looking like a soldier given a mission. He smiled at Mokuba and Mokuba smiled back…you could feel the love in this room, as if it were truly tangible.
Seto, the older one, watched this happen…and so many emotions suddenly flooded back to him, from past and present alike. Yami watched the scene and Kaiba with equal interest. This wasn't quite what he had expected.
Or was it…?
Kaiba's memories once again sparked the pharaoh's. The face of little Kaiba-kun was like an echo, a mirror of another young child…one with eyes the color of wine. Yami felt that feeling. That feeling of fates pull, yet again. What happened to this child?
"That's my boys. Take care of each other, we'll be back before you know it…" The mother murmured gently, tousling the hair of each lovingly. "And I promise, we'll be home for Christmas…" "Really?" asked mini-Seto intently, smiling. "Really." His father replied, nodding. "We –promise-." Yami was a bit confused, despite the ominous feeling that made him feel right at home. Where…was the sense in this? Where was Gozaburo? Wait…ah…oh.
The scene changed. One moment, it was bright and warm and happy. The next, they saw the family leaving and the light in the room seemed to darken, only a little…
Without warning, memories flashed before their eyes. A car, ice and snow, slick roads, a driver with glazed eyes…a ditch. They heard a scream and a yell…a car, the car with Seto's parents, spun off the road and flipped over into a ditch.
The next memory held flashing sirens and countless people in uniform, pale and solemn faces…two bodies carried away, buried beneath white sheets…
Yami felt pity pull at his heart again as Seto turned away from the scene. The pharaoh shook his head with regret…the past can be a painful thing. It was almost too fitting that he should be the one to show Kaiba this. He would most likely look kinder on the ex-priest ever after. Perhaps that was their intention.
Seto felt the snow beneath his feet. There were chill winds at his back. They stung…stung his eyes, his exposed skin. No. This was a dream. A memory. It felt so real, though. It was like he could reach out and touch these people. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Yami watching him. With pity. He hated to be pitied.
"I've seen enough." Seto snapped, feeling the warmth of anger almost melt away the snow.
Yami shook his head a little sadly. "Not yet. My job isn't finished, Kaiba." Within the next breath, the scene changed again.
Seto and Mokuba stood before in orphanage, chill winds blowing around them, Mokuba clutched a stuffed animal and his brother's hand for reassurance. Seto stared forward, to their new home.
They watched little Seto grow and defeat all opponents in chess and other various games. As Mokuba cheered him on, the little champion grew in strength…even back then, the kid smirked.
"Yep. That's you, all right. Just had to beat everyone, even back then, huh?" Yami asked, grinning.
"Whatever…"
Yet another day in the life of Seto Kaiba-to-be, Mokuba was playing with a toy in corner, enjoying himself and looking up to smile at his big brother every other minute. Two of the older boys walked over to him and sneered at the little one.
He flinched as they stole his toy and started to tease him about his long hair and the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.
"Hey, leave him alone!" Seto demanded, shooing away the bullies. He crouched down and smiled at Mokuba. "Are you okay, Mokie?"
Mokuba sniffed and nodded. "Yeah…thanks, Seto."
"Sure, Mokie." He ruffled his little brother's hair and gave him back his toy. "It'll be okay, huh?"
"Yeah…"
Yami found the scene…heart-warming. If not just the slightest bit strange. It was like hearing Bakura sing "Butterfly." Sure, the song is nice. And yes, Bakura –can- sing. The two just don't mix very well.
"Mokie…" Seto mumbled. "I haven't called him that in ages."
A chill wind blew again, marking another fateful twist. Another man, tall and dark, (2) strode into the lives of the two future Kaibas…
"Gozaburo…" Seto hissed, eyes now icy slits.
Yami would also liked to have hissed and growled and various things of that nature. Staying his temper, he reminded himself that this was a memory. No more, no less. He also noticed that Seto was bristling at the sight of his adoptive father and heard him muttering some things he'd like to do to the man.
"Yes…but, Seto, it's a memory. He can't see you or hear you, because he's not really there. If he could, that would be changing history…and I'm a dark mage, not the time wizard."
Seto huffed. "You're neither. What you are is a psycho in drag."
Yami
pursed his lips and had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep
himself from attempting to cast something to make Seto into a bunny.
A girl bunny. Muwahahah.
"Moving
on."
"If I can beat you at chess, you'll adopt me and my brother." (3) Seto proposed, drawing up his confidence.
Gozaburo sneered. "I'm a chess champion. What makes you think you can win?"
"I want it more. To you, this is beating a little kid. It means nothing to you, even if you win. To me, however…it means more then that." Seto smirked.
And so, the challenge began. The victor was, inevitably, Seto. Gozaburo, amazed and frustrated, eventually was forced to keep his end of the bargain. After all, Seto had threatened him with blackmail.
Little Seto slowly grew under the watchful eyes of Gozaburo. Worked to the brink of his sanity and pushed to the limits of his endurance at such a young age, determined to keep going, he fought his way to the top. Going so far that, as a child, he took over a company and kicked out all it workers, forcing them to be homeless. Yep, Gozaburo rubbed off on the kid."Leaving all those people without homes or jobs…shame on you." Yami scolded, tsk-ing.
"I did what I had to do. I know what I want, that's all. Always have." Seto retorted, turning away from the scene in disinterest.
"I guess the saying is true then," Yami quipped. "A man who knows what he wants is a man nobody wants."
Seto glared at the spirit and his eyes bore into Yami's transparent flesh, like a magnifying glass on an ant. Unfortunately for him, looks don't actually kill. And even if they do, what's the use of killing something that's already dead?
Never mind that…
"Well, regardless that's just about…oh, right. There was one last thing, wasn't there?" Yami mumbled to himself, tapping his foot, trying to remember.
The scenery melted away like an ice cream cone in July as he focused his concentration. Seto yelped as the floor disappeared. He stared below, almost frightened. Though, being frightened isn't cool. So he couldn't be really frightened. Yeah. "This room has no ceiling or floor…!"
Yami blinked. "Isn't that a song?"
Seto scowled at Yami, eyes going all narrowy, making Yami frustrated because his thinking was interrupted.
"If you make that face too long, it'll get stuck there." The former-pharaoh scolded, still trying to think. If it were possible, there would be a little light bulb on the top of his head. And it would turn on right about… "Mmm. I remember."
Yami stared into the abyss as it suddenly became bright scenery again. Two doctors were having a discussion over some notes. Seto frowned.
"So about…miss Wheeler?" (4)"Joey's mother?" Seto asked, glancing over to Yami, confused.
Yami rolled his eyes. "No, no. His sister. Sssh…I didn't see this part yet. Even if you won't pay attention, I want to."
"Yes…I'm afraid that, though she under went the operation, she's still under the threat of losing her eyesight."
"Joey's sister is going blind?" Seto demanded. Not that he cared or anything. He barely remembered that Joey had a sister to begin with.
Yami groaned. "She was. She got an operation with the money Yugi and I won at Duelist Kingdom so now, would you kindly shut up?"
"But—"
"There –were- complications, then. Has her family been told?"
"Her mother and her older brother, yes. No word
from her father."
"Does she need another operation?"
The older doctor, a male, sighed and cleaned his
glasses. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Or at least, as near as we can
tell. It's such a pity. The poor child was so relieved to have her
sight again. It was a miracle that it was managed, just in time. Now,
we can only hope…"
"And the family can't pay for any more care?"
The nurse asked, sighing sadly.
"Mm…I'm afraid not. It's a difficult situation. But, there's nothing we can do." He sighed, took another sip of his drink and went back to work. The nurse followed likewise.
Seto watched the image fade away and stared at Yami with suspicion. "Why did you show me that?"
Yami shrugged absently. "How should I know? Don't shoot the messenger." He huffed. "Poor Joey…why didn't he say anything?"
"The mutt is probably hoping that he won't have to." Seto replied, rolling his eyes.
Yami gave Seto a hard stare. "I wasn't talking to you. And don't call him that, Kaiba. I can't believe you don't even feel some sort of sympathy…what if that were Mokuba?"
"Then I'd be paying for the operation. But it isn't, so it isn't my problem." Seto dismissed. Though, honestly, he felt just a little bit guilty. 'If I –were- in his place? I don't know what I'd do. But if I really was Wheeler, I definitely wouldn't want my pity.'
"Don't day dream. I'm almost done. Then you can go back to bed…" Yami started,
"Good." Seto smirked.
"…Until my successor arrives."
Seto groaned. "You've got to be kidding."
Yami smirked. "Nope. Have fun. Last stop is…amazingly, your house."
Seto sighed with some relief as he saw four walls, his four walls, all surrounding him. "Swell, see you later."
Yami scowled. "Not yet, o ye of little patience. I said, 'your house' not 'your room.' Check out the munchkin."
"Seto…come on, let's--go out and look at the decorations!" Mokuba nudged his brother who was typing away at his laptop for the million-and-twenty-fifth time in his life.
"What for? You see one string of lights, you've seen 'em all." Seto muttered, rolling his eyes, only to return to his typing.
Mokuba groaned. "But, the pretty colors? The styles? The designs?"
"If you want pretty colors, a computer could do a better job any day." Seto pointed out, easily sliding his way out of another activity.
"Fine. Fine. How 'bout we go caroling? The people might be giving out Butterfinger hot chocolate!" Mokuba licked his lips, just thinking about the sweet taste and warming feeling.
"You want to go out in the snow to get cold and hoarse for melted chocolate? Mokuba, I could buy you a dump truck full of that stuff." Seto protested, sighing. "Besides, I don't like singing in public."
Mokuba sat down and his brow furrowed in concentration. "Can we go to a Christmas party?"
Seto grunted. "No."
"But, Seto…you didn't even give me a reason why not!" Mokuba lamented, crossing his arms and frowning.
"It's not like we don't do anything on Christmas, Mokuba." Seto muttered, still typing.
"Yeah, just not the fun stuff…" Mokuba mumbled dejectedly.
Seto rolled his eyes. "What, do you have something against opening presents?"
Mokuba sighed. "No, but…that's not all people are s'posed to do on Christmas. They're supposed to be together…yanno, friends and family, Seto."
Seto smiled at his little brother. "Mmm hmm. And we're together, aren't we?" "
What about the 'friends' part?" nagged little Mokuba, feeling his brother ruffle his hair again. "
I don't need anybody else but you, Mokuba." Seto ruffled Mokuba's hair a little longer, smiling that rare smile.
Seto heard the past Mokuba sigh, which he had heard before…but he heard the kid mutter something he'd missed. "That's not true, Seto…"
Later, they saw the tike in bed after Christmas. Mokuba looked out his window and saw a star…he smiled wistfully and repeated an age-old rhyme. "Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight…wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight—I wish that Seto would make friends and that he would be happier."
Seto watched the scene melt away again and felt his heart sink a little.
"Mmm…you know, Seto, I think worrying for each other is hereditary in your family. After all, you worry about Mokuba more than…just about anything. And Mokuba worries about you a lot more than you realize." Yami observed as the light illuminating from his robe slowly dimmed.
Seto scoffed. "I'm pretty sure I know my own brother a little better than you, Yami." He snapped, feeling a jumble of emotions run through him.
"Really…? Gee, what was I thinking? Funny, so is that why you snapped at him when he was just trying to make you happy?" Yami countered, raising an eyebrow in mock curiosity.
"I didn't…I mean--" Seto stared at the floor, feeling a pile of guilt drop on his shoulders.
Yami chuckled, smirking. "Oh? Is that so? Well, then…I'm obviously not needed. Good night, Seto. Have fun with the next spirit, hmm? He'll be here in…hmm. Oh, very soon. Just keep any shiny objects and knives well out of reach. See ya!"
Yami mock saluted the C.E.O as he vanished into a ball of floating glitter, which evaporated. Seto stared after him in utter confusion. He stumbled back over to his bed, just wanting to sleep all this off…and maybe do something extra nice for Mokuba when he woke up.
Footnotes:
1: When Seto got trapped in the virtual world game that Seto created, Mokuba got Yugi and Joey to help them. In the end of the series, Joey saved Mokuba's "life" by sacrificing himself and his beloved Red Eyes. Makes you wonder why you never got to see Seto's reaction. Surely, he must have thought –something- about such a caring act.
2: Not hansom, mind you, but tall and dark.
3: Paraphrasing:)
4: Oh, the agony. I want to type Jounouchi. Not Wheeler. However, at the moment, I'm just inclined to call Jou "Joey," you know?
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