HDtS.
(sighs) Finally! The golden opportunity… a fan fiction purely dedicated to the one and only, Seto Kaiba!Seto.
(sweat drop) I feel solely in bliss to have such an idiot write a pathetic narrative about me.HDtS.
Kaiba-kun, you better watch your mouth or I may be forced to devour you with the uses of only a plastic spork. Stupid, irritating… (furiously clicks on "Spell Check" under her computer program) They don't have friggin' "spork" on spell check? Piece of--Seto.
The obtuse listings of eating utensils aren't vital to a computer program, moron.HDtS.
I'm sure you'd think that, since you don't eat anything… (coughs)Seto.
(outraged) WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING?!HDtS.
(hastily) I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE TOPICS USED IN THIS FAN FICTION IN RELATION TO YU-GI-OH! AND I DO NOT PLAN ON TAKING CREDIT FOR THEM ANYTIME SOON!! AND APOLOGIES TO KAZUKI TAKAHASHI FOR VARIOUS THINGS I DON'T FEEL ARE DESIRED TO BE DISCUSSED RIGHT NOW! And all I'm saying, Seto-kun… you have a very nice body, but I'm going with Jounouchi-chan! You have no ass… so use that hard-earned cash you spend on OBSOLETE COMPUTERS to get some ass-cheeks, and some better clothes while you're at it. Not that your Battle City outfit or your working outfit or your Duelist Kingdom outfits weren't good or anything. ^_~ Just keep away from the trench coats for once! It would be nice to see how masculine your arms were for once, so wear a muscle shirt or a tank top or something! ^_^Seto.
(scowling) You disgust me.HDtS.
(smiling enthusiastically) Same, old… same, old. The storyline in this fan fiction is not parallel to what happened on the show, or in the manga--this is just something I worked up in my own mind! (nervous laugh) And I highly recommend that squeamish people leave if they don't like a bloody, 12-year-old Seto! (Seto sweat drops.)Seto.
(rolling his eyes) I'm sure you'd be the only type of person to be interested in something like that, Michelle. (she smiles)* * *
"He--he left…" Seto whispered hoarsely, choking up traces of crimson along the unsoiled carpeting.
The poor boy rose to his feet, trembling, and gazed back to his reflection dejectedly. Flickering, sapphire eyes, that held an unbearable despair, framed by dull, auburn, wispy hair that had once luster under the sun exultantly. A bruised, blood-splattered adolescent, with bones that protruded like thorns from his thin frame, as he quivered uncontrollably. Shuddering as if it were the last few minutes of breath, of life, he had to thrive off. A ravenous parasite.
The child collapsed onto the ground with a moan, now shivering immensely, buckling into a vast pool of his own blood. His shirt had been shred in Gozaburo's furious beating, revealing the pale, ruthlessly wounded, scrawny trunk, and the battered, scarred, bony limbs. Seto was twitching in pain, lower lip torn well, and he had keeled onto his knees slowly, jerking in blood-loss and agony. His hands only supported him, while the rest of his body had numbed or ached, or had been too weak to carry his weight anymore.
His trousers had also been torn and bloody in several areas, consequential from the gashes that had been driven into his legs mercilessly. The youth's bedroom held the ghastly stench of blood. But, the reek kindled his nostrils much more differently tonight. Almost in a taunting way. As if the bastard had won this time. Finally, his quaking knees gave way onto the floor, nearly drained of consciousness, and he lay there on the ground, in a crumpled heap.
"Gozaburo, you bastard… you're not gonna make me give up… never. I'm strong enough to withstand you… you'll never win." he croaked, azure pools slowly obscured by the swollen, discolored eyelid that steadily slid over them. "You're not gonna win… you… you cold-hearted… b--bastard."
Hence, the boy slept in his grave exhaustion.
* * *
Seto felt a wintry hand slither along his forehead, both gracefully and compassionately, and he squirmed in pleasure, almost as if he'd known this tending, kind touch. In a life he'd left behind years ago… longer than a regular child could remember to. But, it had been the only thing he had left to persevere, the only thing he had left to hang on. A boy of only twelve, with shattered dreams, and anguish lost in his maze-like eyes. No one could get through to it.
But, this benevolent stroke that cast through his hair, it blazed through that desolation, and he faltered in struggling to his feet again. But, the gentle hand urged him to stay where he laid, which he noticed his head sunk into cloth, and his limbs coiled up flaccidly onto a comfortable mattress. He heard a supple, beautiful voice singing to him while they caressed his head. A woman's voice. Could it be…
Seto progressively opened his eyes with the little strength he had, and his eyes joined with a pair identical to his. Though, much more glittering and kinder. His eyes had grown a bit hard after the time at the orphanage… so much misery was hidden behind them…
Soft, russet wings embraced her slight frame, jutting from her graceful shoulder blades, auburn feathers rippling in their gentle movement. Torso obscured in what looked to be a tattered, patched, gown that swept to her shins, black locks swaying to her hips, in rhythm with her refined footsteps.
"My poor Seto…" she whispered consolingly, hands pressing against his shoulder.
Breathing heavily in fear, he retreated and scrambled on all fours from the splendid figure, sapphire eyes broad in astonishment.
"You poor thing…" she muttered, hand flourished in empathy, finally throwing her arms around him.
The adolescent gasped at her sudden tender grin towards him. The woman was certainly stunning in looks, as she had lovely ashen skin parallel to Seto's, a slender visage, defined chin, and devastatingly gorgeous, cerulean eyes. Seto's eyes looked beyond beautiful on a woman… the female's collar was nimble and elegant, holding a modest head of magnificent, dark locks, that sheen blue in its murkiness. Strands of her jet-black mane fell into her brilliant eyes, as she smiled back to her son devotedly.
"Seto… my little boy…" she cried jovially, sinuous, fair arms enclosing his narrowed torso.
"Mom? Mother…" he husked, dark lashes glistening in ecstasy. The blood smeared his cheeks slowly, trickling among the warm tears that seeped along his bruised façade like succulent, moist berries. "You came back for me…"
"Yes…" she beamed, and examined him warmly. She lifted his chin reassuringly in assessment. "Your brother bears as well. But, Gozaburo has toyed with you so much more."
Her brows raised in somber apology, running her graceful hands along her son's bare back, and she only held him tighter, Seto still coughing up meager trails of blood. Her eyes gleamed with tears at her son's repulsive state. "Seto, you have countless cuts on your back…" she rasped through thick, quiet sobs.
Seto's azure eyes widened, and he slowly slipped from her clasp, swiping his hand along his spine, gesturing towards her, fingertips caked with smeared blood. Her hand clutched with his gently, and her palms slowly spread with the rich, crimson liquid. She grimaced, seizing him again in her lithe arms.
"Mom… take us with you… take us out of here." he murmured inaudibly, eyes grown soft in the tears that drift like frothing waves from them. "I don't wanna stay here anymore. I'd rather live poor on the streets, and still live with you, mom."
She brandished a gracious hand and gently brushed the tears from her child's marred expression, brows lifted in sympathy. "You yet have a life to live, Seto… it wouldn't be fair if I took it away, now. I only came down here to gaze into your eyes again." his eyes glimmered as he lost the nerve to fix his stare directly into hers. "You certainly are handsome… and you'll only become more beautiful as you grow, Seto. But, your eyes… they're troubled. They're--cold." she cupped his cheek affectionately, as she glimpsed into those icy orbs again. "They'll only grow harder if Gozaburo continues this madness. And, you, only twelve. No boy should hold sadness in their expression like that. But, you are growing so divinely… you're not so small anymore…" she grinned toothily, and slipped her arms around his shoulders again, in another tight embrace.
"It doesn't matter to me whether I live anymore or not. Just… the first you take, if not me… Mokuba, please, mother. He's only eight… he doesn't deserve this. It's my fault we're here. Take him first." Seto whispered, expression masked by the thick fringe that hung in his eyes.
She laughed kindheartedly. "I'm not taking either, Seto. Did you not say before that you would face Gozaburo fearlessly, and overpower him? Did you not whisper that you would not ever give up? That you were strong enough to withstand his crude wrath? Or did you speak it in vain?" she smirked playfully at his flushed expression after these words were said.
"I said it for Mokuba. I'm not going to let Gozaburo touch my little brother, and now that he has a chance to escape, I'm asking you to take him with you to heaven. I should be the only one beaten like this, and as long as he's safe, I'll stay here, until my dying day."
Her eyes widened and shimmered at this sharp reply, and she smiled crookedly at her son's grown wisdom. He certainly wasn't a child anymore. But, he wasn't an adult quite yet…
"Seto. Mokuba will not leave your side without you. He will stay by your deathbed, and mourn for you eternally if you should leave this world. He loves you more than you think. And, he would never escape with me, to leave you here suffering alone. He may be a child, but Mokuba isn't selfish. You two must work together. If your brother leaves, you will have no hopes to continuing on, and you will die a slow and painful death. I don't wish for any of my children to stomach this torment, but it isn't in my place to take either of your lives away." she caressed his head, and laid him onto the mattress again, gesturing for him to loll down again into slumber. But, the adolescent resisted.
She simply chortled at this stubbornness, and watched him scowl agitatedly at her motherly stance. She merely glanced at him again, and pressed a single finger against his wasted arm.
She smiled warmly, gazing into those gorgeous pools. But, her stare changed to her son's poor condition again. "Does Gozaburo not give you anything to eat? Does he beat you and starve you?" she gawked back to her son's pained eyes, and saw his frown wither into an expression of gloom. Seto didn't retort, but only arched his head.
Her cobalt eyes filled with tears at his unresponsive reaction. "Such a foul life for a child… Gozaburo will pay with an eternity in hell. But… now, Seto… sleep. You look so beaten and exhausted…" Seto felt her fingertips tingle his throbbing cheeks. "You must sleep well to grow healthy again. Lie here… you've lost so much blood… you must have something to eat…"
Finally, the boy slumped back onto the mattress, giving off a final groan of relief, as he caught his mother brandishing a grubby sack, mouth-watering aroma billowing from it. Seto's appetite hastily perked up, as his mother flaunt a stack of steaming hotcakes from the scruffy bag, already preparing it before she'd arrived.
She tossed the rucksack to the auburn-haired adolescent, enclosing the hot, freshly-prepared food, and the boy gaped back to her gratefully, hands trembling with vigor.
Seto's mother gazed back at him, rather disapprovingly, and she plucked out a slab from the cloth bag, placing it into his blood-spattered hands. "Seto, eat the food… it'll give you strength. I know your foster father barely gives either of you anything to eat."
He gawked rather eagerly back at the food in his palms, tempted at wolfing it down, stomach churning in protest, but he only nibbled at the hotcake, savoring the delicious taste once again. Finally gaining a sense for the recognizable flavor, he felt more famished than ever, and he managed greedy, hulking bites into the cake, and heartily bolted down the rest, belly already warm with satisfaction.
Seto's mother chortled blissfully at her son's brisk hunger. "See? Last time you ate your fill like a regular boy was probably when I was still around. Here, take another one… the more, the better."
Seto eagerly snatched up another, rather enjoying the great desire for food, being satisfied at any count he preferred, and he scarf down a bulky portion of the slab, cheeks broad with mounds of gnawed, delicious food. He swallowed it graciously, and he slowly felt his feeble state strengthen at the voracious appetite. Almost as if the hotcakes really were mending him… he knew his mother had prepared them to do this.
"Here… I brought dumplings. I remembered how much you loved them." she smiled, and laid a plump, scrumptious-looking dumpling in his hand.
Seto grinned crookedly, and bit down into the large, soft slab, relishing its sweetness, while his taste buds rang with thrill. His mother beamed, and stroked his head as he ate fervently. "There you go! I haven't seen you grow such an appetite since you were about four… you are a growing boy; you must eat, and eat well."
He sustained in nibbling at the pudgy dumpling, and slowly gulped down the roll of food, feeling it slither roughly down his throat. His stomach growled like a brazen dog, but Seto felt slightly fatigued at eating more than he usually did. So, he laid his head down on the pillow, relieving his quivering body.
Seto's mother watched him curl on his side, and pulled the bag from the mattress. "Filled already?" she watched him nod sluggishly. "Well, then… drink this before you sleep, Seto…" his mother beckoned a small glass towards him, and his eyes expanded as he saw the brim waft with thick steam.
"Green tea…?" he whispered in question, slowly taking the mug into his hands.
"Yes. And this will heal you even more than the food… by tomorrow morning, you'll wake with more force, and your gashes will close up quickly." she motioned for him to drink.
Seto uneasily nodded, and sipped the warm beverage, scrapped leaves near the bottom of the glass swirling as he swallowed. The hot tea swiftly warmed his body, and settled in his belly snugly. But, once he'd finished, his eyes grew heavy, and he coiled again onto the mattress, while his mother still caressed his head.
"Seto, I've watched you for so long, and I haven't seen you smile ever since. Only when you gaze into Mokuba's eyes. You're slowly changing, and you only smile less, Seto. I've only seen an undying, veiled misery in your eyes… bleeding from the inside."
The adolescent closed his eyes, too exhausted to respond. "You're still small. I question whether you will grow tall like your father. But, your hair looks a bit limp and unhealthy. It's lost its shine… and this fine, pale skin all spotted in blood… your face also still looks childish." Seto managed to open his eyes again, and the pair of vast, sapphire pools flickered her way. "Just, do me a favor, and before I leave… promise to keep those eyes… promise to keep everlasting strength in those shining eyes… don't give up, Seto."
He nodded weakly. "I… I promise, mother… I promise." his mother's hand slowly crept from his faint grasp.
So, Seto fled to his own heavenly world in his dreams, while his mother stroked his head, and sung to him angelically.
* * *
Mokuba sat beside the window pane trembling, window seat cushions blemished with his welling tears. He shuddered with great sobs, crying for his brother… his only family. Mokuba had heard Seto shrieking and wailing earlier, from vicious, piercing smacks that he had clearly heed from the next room. The poor boy tried to block out the painful sounds with his thick hair, but the deafening, ear-splitting sounds bled through, and he could only weep harder for his brother.
Later, the sounds faded, and Mokuba could only imagine the pain his brother was undergoing at that point. He wept like a mother watching her child beaten by her drunk husband. Mokuba subside into the cushions, moaning stifled by numerous pillows. He couldn't run to his brother, or confront Gozaburo, for he had been locked inside the room, clutching his head, and screeching into his mattress at hearing the terrifying sounds from his brother.
And lifting his head gloomily, moist, misty eyes shimmering with tears, he bit his lip and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Seto… if I was never born, this would've never happened… forgive me… for--forgive me! You would've been better-off if I didn't exist… you would've been so much happier, Seto…"
The raven-haired boy faltered in his sobs at hearing light footsteps behind him. He had always had a sharp sense of hearing, while his brother had the impeccable intuition. "Mokuba, don't even consider that for an instant." the soft tone chimed in his keen ears, and he strained himself to recognize the voice. But, for some strange reason, he couldn't seem to find it…
Stealthily, he twisted his head behind, and witnessed, head to head, a magnificent woman. An angel with chaste beauty beyond words. Fine, dangling hair matching to his own, sapphire, flaunting eyes that blaze through the obscure darkness of his bedroom, a stunning, pallid figure Mokuba felt was too gorgeous even for his own virgin eyes. The female clothed in a frayed, shabby cloth, while glorious, sleek wings flexed from her shoulders joyously. The young woman wore a jovial smile and turned towards the youth, footsteps elegant and unhurried. Her lovely ankles traced to bare feet, and gradually, the white-armed female became familiar to his glistening eyes.
Not a word spoken, air still pure with no sound, Mokuba felt he knew her. The way an adult senses the tingle of fear in their wandering child, through the midst of a jostling crowd. You sensed it somehow…
"Mom?" he whispered, expression lit with query.
"Mokuba…" she grinned passionately, and lifted a hand to his cheek, and twined her wriggling fingers within his dark hair. "Last time… you were but a newborn infant…"
"Mommy…! It--it's you…" Mokuba was the first to yelp in surrender, and threw his arms around his mother's neck, the similar manner a toddler would when seeing his affectionate mother arrive after a day of school.
"Mokuba, my little angel… my little light…" she cried inaudibly, while he gazed into her eyes in astonishment. She ran her refined hand along his well-defined shoulder blades, and caressed his dark hair with the other. "You're certainly heavier in my arms… it's hard to believe you're not a baby anymore…" those luminous, lamp-like orbs caught sight of the vicious bruises and scrapes that swathed her son's arms. "Gozaburo is treacherous. He whips you both like animals. Scars beneath the tips of your eyes, Mokuba. And this extending gash on your cheek…"
The pair of dazzling, smoke-gray pools glossed awkwardly, and Mokuba slowly tugged down the thick sleeves of his coat, concealing his beaten arms. "It's nothing…" he whispered, grinning crookedly through that untroubled mask.
His mother smiled grimly back to her son, and instead, disregarded his injuries, and examined his appearance past the few scratches on his visage. She was grateful Mokuba wasn't as terrible as Seto. "You've taken an olive skin-tone; more like your father's… it looks undoubtedly handsome with your dark hair. Your brother's skin is much more whitish." she drew back strands of radiant, jet-black hair from his brow. "Well, your hair seems to be in excellent condition; Seto's looked a bit unkempt and untaken care of. And look at those gorgeous eyes… you've both grown so attractively. I'm blessed to have such beautiful children."
Mokuba wriggled shamefully, and his intent stare fixed on the ground. He was timid to gazing directly into her gape. Plainly startled… he had never known his mother until now. But he felt a nimble fingertip slither underneath his chin, and his head unhurriedly raised towards his mother's kind face.
"Child, you're panicked; your body quivers with fear. But, don't be scared, Mokuba. I love you. You have no prize to gain for me to love you… I've cherished you from the first moment I held you. You have no need to prove yourself worthy. You only need to show me your love… that is all I need." she laughed selflessly, and laid a fair, gentle hand onto his darker, stiffer one. "Both you and Seto are my pride and joy, regardless of whether I raised you or not. I've been watching you both ever since I left, your father as well."
"But, mom, it's all my fault this happened to Seto. Because of me, you and daddy died, and we got adopted by Gozaburo. And now Seto has to pay for it… it's not fair for him… it's all my fault!" Mokuba slowly felt tears brim in his trembling eyelids, and he cried out in lament again, weeping into his mother's warm shoulder.
"Yes, Mokuba… cry, my child… crying will help you feel better…"she sighed, fondling his black tresses again. "If only Seto would do the same…"
The two murky eyes joined with hers again, and his expression scrunched into one of repentance. "And it would've never happened if I hadn't come around. Seto would still be smiling and still laughing if I had never come here. Why did I ever have to exist?! My big brother… I'm losing a little bit more of him everyday… I'm a murderer. I killed you, mommy. I killed dad. I killed Seto. I destroyed his life. And I can't change what's already happened…"
Mokuba's mother gawked back to her miserable son. "Mokuba… do you honestly think that's all true? Mokuba, you're the reason Seto awakens every morning… you're the reason he lives on. You are the one that keeps his heart beating by the second; the consolation of you as a brother runs through his veins and keeps him alive. You are the sole purpose to his existence, Mokuba." the raven-haired boy's eyes broadened. "Gaze through your brother's eyes, Mokuba… the prospective will change dramatically. The genuine Seto you've known may bury deeper by the day, but Seto blames himself for you being here. I spoke to him minutes ago, and he begged of me to take you to heaven with me first. He'd gladly sacrifice himself for your sake, Mokuba. I told him with my dying breath to take care of you. He did not break his promise… but, yet, as he watched you and tend to your needs everyday, he slowly felt an inevitable, brotherly love form towards you. Soon, he looked past the death of your father and me, and he loved you more than family. His love towards you kept him alive. His elixir of breath. The finest remedy of them all."
His head shook in incredulity. It wasn't possible that his own mother was here, stroking him reassuringly, and speaking to him, returned from heaven… but, the way the woman smiled, so divinely, thin upper lip, full lower, exactly like his brother's; the manner in how that wiry grin formed into a kind beam, and lit the saintly expression; how her eyes glimmered that impossible blue, resembling Seto's… it somehow comfort him, and told him that she really was there, alongside him, and that the beautiful female really was his own mother.
"I love you, mother--"
"Mokuba?"
"Yes?"
"Call me 'mommy.'"
Mokuba's lips twisted into a gorgeous, childlike smile, and he sheen white teeth, with the full assurance that his mother was really there with him. And Seto still cared for him. And that his mother really loved him, and she would never discontinue that burning love to her sons.
* * *
Somewhere, a voice calls,
in the depths of my heart
May I be dreaming,
The dreams that move my heart
Seto shut the door behind him, and switched the lights off from the room. It was an overcast, ominous night, he knew, though still a child, and chain-like rows of fluorescent street lights from the window poured a faint illumination to the murky room.
So many tears, of sadness,
uncountable through and through
I know on the other side, of them,
I'll find you
Seto grinned back to the newborn in his arms, and cradled him vigilantly, as though he were handling a delicate China doll. The recent addition to the family had grown lustrous, black hair, a mass of shimmering tresses on his bobbing head. Seto kissed his dimpled cheek, and heard a struggled wail of discomfort escaped his brother's lips.
Every time we fall down to the ground,
we look up to the blue sky above
We wake up to its blueness,
as for the first time
Though the road is long and lonely
and the end is far away, out of sight
I can with these two arms,
embrace the light
He was exhausted. Seto nodded stiffly, and carefully placed Mokuba into the adorned crib, and rocked it slowly in rhythm with his tangled thoughts. Mokuba stared curiously up at his brother, and reached out with a plump hand to his brother's face. The point of the petite finger brushed the tip of his nose, and Seto laughed compassionately.
"Hi, little brother." Seto whispered, smiling toothily, eyes glittering in benevolence.
As I bid farewell, my heart
stops, in tenderness I feel
My silent empty body begins
to listen to what is real
Mokuba also grinned back at Seto, and squealed in delight. Mokuba continued to stroke his brother's face playfully, as if investigating an original sense of touch, while his brother pondered deeply.
The wonder of living,
the wonder of dying
The wind, town, and flowers,
we all dance one unity
Lala, la, la, la, la… lalalala, la, la, la, la…
"Well, your mom's gone, Mokuba. Guess that means I take care of you from now on, huh?" the toddler's childlike face glowed, and he rest his tiny hand on Seto's cheek. Seto released a rather impatient sigh. "You don't have a care in the world, do you? But, you don't understand what's happened anyway… I wish I could be like that too." Seto gawked into Mokuba's eyes. He had his father's shimmering, enormous eyes. He couldn't forget those eyes.
Somewhere, a voice calls
in the depths of my heart
Keep dreaming your dreams,
don't ever let them part
Why speak of all your sadness
or of life's painful woes
Instead let the same lips sing
a gentle song for you
"You have dad's eyes, and mom's hair…" Seto beamed warmly, and stroked Mokuba's locks. "You're the perfect little brother--you know, I've always wanted a little brother. Just one I could take care of, and love, and talk to. And now that I have it, I wouldn't change it for the world."
The whispering voice,
we never want to forget,
in each passing memory
Always there to guide you
When a mirror has been broken,
shattered pieces scattered on the ground
Glimpses of new life, reflected all around
Seto saw his brother yawn and close his glimmering eyes. He coiled up flaccidly in his crib, and the brown-haired youth saw him squirm uncomfortably. He grinned and pulled the blanket along Mokuba's minuscule shoulders.
Window of beginning, stillness,
new light of dawn
Let my silent empty body
be filled and reborn
"You want me to sing you to sleep…" he mumbled, as he sway the cradle tranquilly. The troubled child gazed out the window in thought. Whenever Mokuba wanted him to sing, he'd sing one beautiful song. The song had struck him for the first time when he saw one star glimmer brightly among the rest in the velvety skies. Something his mother would always sing.
No need to search outside,
nor sail across the sea
Cause here shining inside me,
it's right here inside me
I've found brightness,
it's always with me
He began singing gently to the infant, and he saw his little brother wriggle and smile. Mokuba loved hearing his brother sing. His rich, quivering voice was so soothing, and he felt himself drift from the world. Slowly… and he heard his brother's beautiful singing in his dreams…
Lala, la, la, la, la… lalalala, la, la, la, la…
* * *
Seto rolled in bed uncomfortably, and watched the other boys slumbering deeply. He was the only awake, and he'd refused dining with the rest. Lately, he hadn't eaten anything, or barely slept. He felt so cold and miserable, and his eleventh birthday was pending tomorrow. He'd easily realized nothing special would happen. But, at the same time, only having Mokuba by his side would be the greatest gift of all, through his chaste eyes.
"Happy birthday, Seto." he whispered, watching the stars flicker the skies gallantly.
The food they'd offer children at the orphanage was very scarce, and a bit nauseating. But, everyone was hungry, and would gorge with no protest. Seto and Mokuba frequently spent most of their time tremendously hungry during the day, and trembling cold in their cots at night. So, he laid in bed like every night, on a vacant stomach, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. He had too much on his mind to doze.
But, he smiled and had enlightened himself constantly that he still had Mokuba. Mokuba was the most luxurious thing that had ever happened to him, in heart. Never had he felt a love like he had towards Mokuba. He examined the faithful, innocent boy gradually breathe underneath the scruffy blanket. Seto's mouth curled into a jovial grin, he thrust out his hand, and cupped Mokuba's cheek gently. But, he saw his brother moan, and tremble furiously. The child's cheek felt feverish. Seto rose from bed and watched Mokuba devotedly.
The naïve, juvenile minor surge into hushed, tranquil weeping only Seto could hear. His brows furrowed over his closed eyes, making him look relentlessly uncomfortable. The adolescent tread beside the younger boy's bed, and gently plucked back the raven-haired youth's sleek, dark tassel from his searing forehead, and rest a mild hand upon it. He shivered hysterically and whimpered in ache.
"It's okay, Mokuba. You're alright…" Seto muttered, slipping beside him onto the mattress, embracing his head. He fondled thick strands of his hair, and sang delicately so that only the two could hear.
A pair of dreary, lantern-like pools slowly opened, and gazed towards Seto beneath the bony arms wrapping Mokuba's small frame. "Big brother, I don't feel good… I feel really hot, and I can't stop shaking…"
Seto pulled Mokuba's head aloft, and rest it again, down onto his thigh. He continued stroking the younger boy, and smiled back at him angelically. "Don't worry, you're just sick… you'll get better soon… but, you go to sleep now, okay?" Seto heaved Mokuba's head gently back onto the pillow, pecked him on the cheek, and slid off his bed, but his attentive brother caught him by the rim of the shirt. The prepubescent boy staggered by surprise.
"Seto! Please don't leave! Stay with me…" Mokuba yelped in a note of terrible alarm, while firmly gripping his pajama top. "Sing for me, please…?"
Seto rest in his tracks, and flit softly back onto Mokuba's bed. He beamed, and caressed his brother's head again. "Fine, but only one more time. Okay, Mokuba?"
The black-haired youngster nodded vigorously in return, and curled his head submissively, at seeing the elder slowly pull the filthy blanket around his arched shoulders.
Seto drew in a deep breath before the infantile, thin, yet beautiful voice rung in Mokuba's ears. He released it, and his lips began to gently release a lovely sound. "Yonde iru, munemo, do kokawo kude, itsumo kokorowo, doru yumewo mitaii. Tanashi miwa, tatsome kire yami keredo. Sonomu koude ki-to, anatani aeru. Kureka esuwa yamachino sonotabin… hitowo atada aoi soranowo awoushiru. Hateshii nakumichi watsutsu itemie rukerendo… konoyorowo tewa hikariwo edakeru. Sayounara no tokimo shizuka mamune… zeroni nakurada yami miyoso maseru. Ikiteiru fushimo shindeyuku ushini… hanamo, kazemo machimo minwo aorajiin…" Seto continued singing, and for how long, he'd lost track of time. But, he crooned tenderly, until he saw Mokuba breathing deeply.
"Yonde iru, munemo, do kokawo kude, itsumo na-n-do, demo yumewo egako. Tanashimino, tatsuwo itsukusuyori… onaji kuchibiru, desu wo-to tawo. Tojichiyuku wo moidemo sononakani, itsumo wa sureta kunai isasaiyaki yokiku. Konamo naniku dekareta kagami nowo eenimo… atarashii keshi kigauutsu saderu. Hajimarino asamo shizuka mamado… zeroni, narukarada, miitasarateyuke. Umino kano taniwa, mosana sanayaii… kagaya kumo nowa, itsumo kokoni. Watashino na kani mitsuke rare takara--" Seto complete his lullaby, vibrating his intone to the conclusion, and finally nodded, kindheartedly kissing his brother on the head, affectionately. "Goodnight, Mokuba…"