Here I go again. Well, I felt it was finally time to post this. I wasn't too sure about it for a while, but now I think I'm happy with it. It's the first one that has the title in the story, and the first one to not (necessarily) occur in the same day as the others.
Alright. I don't own the characters, the song, or the quote, which belong to Kazuki Takahashi, the writers/producers of "Hedwig and the Angry Inch", and Sir Walter Scott, respectively.
Once upon a time, Seto Kaiba was not Seto Kaiba. He was Seto [Insert Other Surname]. Of course, over the course of his life with his adoptive father, Gozaburo made sure Seto and Mokuba forgot their old family name. That bothered Seto for a bit, but not too much; he had other things to worry about than what his last name used to be.
Seto was extremely adaptable.
He learned quickly, and not just in academic subjects. He learned body language, how to pick up subtle cues from the people around him, how to read tone and expression.
For example, when his father would say, "You don't need to say anything. Just smile and look pretty" with a cool sideways glance while he straightened his tie, Seto understood that he meant, "If they question our company, eat them alive."
Which was, of course, exactly what Gozaburo meant.
Forced studying was another challenge that needed to be adapted to. And he adapted to it immediately.
Once one realizes how the questions are worded, how the material is presented, what the typical type of answer is, the work becomes easy, almost mindless.
Well, easy for a child-genius.
Then came another easy adaptation: lying.
Gozaburo had laughed at Seto once after hearing him give a particularly convincing lie to a competitor, calling him a natural. Seto disagreed. He wasn't a natural; he was a natural selection, and his selection was the route of least pain.
"Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive."
Seto had that quote hanging on a placard over his desk. Seto had a good memory; he never had to worry about contradicting himself or entangling himself in any inextricable web of lies. Once, to prove that point to his father, he mapped out an entire tale of one of his lies, who it affected, what they knew, and what the future of that action was.
Needless to say, Gozaburo had not openly appreciated Seto's cheek.
That night, however, he read it over again and chuckled, thinking to himself how really clever his adopted son was. He had, indeed, made the correct choice in not calling out the boy on cheating in that first chess game.
Seto adapted to anything thrown at him. The hardest, however, was his relationship with his new father.
Seto could read most people easily; businessmen, for all their bluffs and bluster, were all mostly the same. "Perhaps," he had wryly noted to his father one day, "that is why they are so successful in business. There is nothing else that they could do."
Gozaburo hit him so hard it hurt to eat for two days afterward.
Sadly, however, Gozaburo couldn't honestly argue with Seto's statement.
Seto soon realized that Gozaburo was not a typical businessman. Yes, he was ruthless. Yes, he was cruel. Yes, he was very strict in his household. But he wasn't heartless.
No, that was not entirely true.
He had a heart. That was what kept him alive for as long as it did.
It was pity, sympathy, and compassion that he lacked.
But Gozaburo was complex where others were not. And that puzzled Seto.
They understood each other's meanings and hints. They were always on the same page in meetings, thinking the same thoughts. But Seto did not know why. He had hoped, once, that it wasn't because he was becoming his father.
Then, of course, he realized that it was a silly thought; one could never become someone else.
At seventeen, a year after his father killed himself, Seto realized what it was that defined his relationship with his father:
Love.
Yes, mutual hatred mixed with unconditional understanding resulted in love.
They understood each other because they both felt the same way. To each, the other represented something they hated. To the father, his son was intellectual rebellion personified, a known enemy playing loyal, who is too clever to be turned in; to the son, his father was a dictatorial overlord, holding the keys of freedom over him in the same way one holds a carrot in front of a starving horse.
Seto pondered that for a moment after discovering it. He thought, almost sadly, that, perhaps, he could have adapted to his father better if he had known that sooner.
But, truly, Seto had adapted to his father very well indeed.
For, when Gozaburo said, "Just smile and look pretty" for the last time, Seto had replied, "You mean, just smile and look deadly. Like I always am."
And Gozaburo had given him the barest of smiles.
Something mutual mixed with unconditional understanding.
That's the origin of love.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. Let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.