Berlin, Prague and Tokyo
Berlin:
For most children, big words like Berlin, Prague and Tokyo meant little.
For most children, the only significant response to those words was the realization that something was going to change. They would enter a winged machination of some sort and arrive in this place called 'Berlin', 'Prague' or 'Tokyo'. It would be jarring, it would be frightening, but most children had the fingers of their parents to grasp upon for security and whispered assurances.
Most children would grow to remember those words fondly as memories.
Seto Kaiba was not most children. He had no parents to assure him, and instead assured his little brother, Mokuba. Seto Kaiba had to harden, had to accept the change, and conquer the change before it conquered him. Words like 'Berlin', 'Prague', 'Tokyo' and an any other city in the world merely meant conferences, work and hardship, but he gladly accepted it.
So as the two adopted Kaiba boys sat in a vast ballroom at a weapons development conference in Berlin, they both kept their jaws gritted. Both in fright and nervousness, Mokuba sat pressed against his big brother's side, watching with wide eyes as adults laughed and schmoozed. At the end of the hall stood Gozaburo Kaiba, their father (adoptive, Seto would add whenever he was asked). This was the reason Seto kept his own jab gritted. It was in disgust, disgust for Gozaburo and the simple minded fools around him.
"J-juice?" Mokuba asked in a small frightened voice and snapped Seto away from his inner tirade.
Eyes softening, the ice cold blue of his eyes melted into water and Seto nodded in the affirmative. Clutching his brother's hand, the boy maneuvered them carefully through the ballroom towards the large bar that sat against the far wall. They were not accosted by a single man or woman because they were simply unnoticeable. In fact, Gozaburo himself would often ignore them, which in truth was far better than receiving any sort of attention from him.
"A glass of apple juice please." It was not phrased as a request. Though his shoulder just came above the bar top, Seto sounded like an adult beyond his years. The bartender simply stared as this strange blue eyed boy raised a smaller dark haired one onto a stool, "Apple juice, with ice. Put it on Gozaburo Kaiba's tab."
Swallowing, the poor bar keep poured a measure of golden liquid into a scotch glass and pushed it forward, "There is no tab for Mr. Kaiba."
Damn. So Gozaburo intended for them to go thirsty tonight. The man had, himself, had several glasses of incredibly expensive brandy which only fueled the fire in Seto's eyes as he thought about his options. Just because he had been adopted by a rich man did not mean he was allowed live like one himself. At the moment his pockets were empty.
"Put it on my tab." A voice interrupted. Settled next to Mokuba was a young man, no older than perhaps eighteen. With dark hair and sombre eyes, there was something about him that Seto recognized in himself. It was another orphan. There was something in him that was unmistakable.
This was Tony Stark.
"I don't take charity." Seto jutted his jaw stubbornly, "Come on Mokuba."
"Consider it a lone then, kid." Stark would not be deterred for some reason. He noticed these two boys, perhaps for the same reason that they noticed him. Clenching his mouth shut, Seto nodded at Mokuba, who took a tentative sip of the juice. The bar tender watched the exchange awkwardly.
"Fine."
A loan was acceptable, though barely.
Prague:
To say the industry was happy he had returned would be too optimistic. No, Tony was well aware that his triumphant return to Stark Industries was a somewhat mixed bag. On the one hand, in less than a year he had already improved the company's assets and patents and the board of directors and stock holders were certainly in high spirits. As was Obadiah, claiming it to be the return of the prodigal son. Others were more critical, wondering if the son of Howard Stark could ever live up to the class of his father.
For his part, Tony ignored all of them and turned instead to the Russian ballerina on his arm; "Martini?"
The woman nodded with a vivacious smile and a coy wink. At least the conference wouldn't be a complete waste of time and the thought of future amorous activities mollified Tony.
Once he was settled comfortably at the bar and had a full two martinis in him, Tony was suddenly aware that all the men and women who were whispering were not staring at him at all. Instead, they were staring at the far end of the bar where two children sat. A small dark haired boy was chirping happily with a big glass in his hand and the rather stoic boy next to him nodded stiffly to the bartender who refilled the younger child's glass.
A smile crossed Tony's face.
The Kaiba boys. They had not only deposed their stepfather as CEO of Kaiba Corporation but had announced the complete demolition of the company's weapons division less than a week ago. This was to be the last time a representative of Kaiba Corp. would ever be at a weapons conference again . Obadiah had commented on the idiocy of the move, but Tony was a more positive view. It was bloody funny and very bold. This was only good news for Stark Industries and Tony seriously questioned the boy's sanity, but he was still impressed.
"Mr. Kaiba," there was a smirk on Tony's face, "I thought you were done with weapons."
"I am." Seto replied coldly, his eyes boring into Tony and then he suddenly turned to the bar keep, "A glass off apple juice for Mr. Stark on my tab please."
My tab. The words were spoken with such authority and such pride that Tony could not help but chuckle at the remembrance of the glass he had once bought for two orphan boys. The seriousness on Seto's face suggested that there was no way Tony could not drink the juice. Graciously, he accepted the glass and clinked against the younger brother's glass, "Cheers."
With a giggle, the younger boy mimicked him; "Cheers!"
Tokyo:
With a look of mild irritation, Seto Kaiba found himself seated in the bar of a very swanky Tokyo hotel. Around him was one of the gaudiest excuses for a party he could have imagined. His business partner (and rival) Maximillion Pegasus always did throw the most outrageously crass parties. Well at least he was of that opinion. Many found them highly entertaining. From his place he could see Yugi Muoto and his gang thoroughly enjoying the buffet line. It irritated him.
"Barkeep, another!" a boisterous man who was seated at the other end of the bar called loudly.
Tilting his head, Seto meant to send whoever the loud drunk one was a sharp glare. Instead he ended clenching his jaw as his eyes met with the owner of the red and gold suit he had been seeing on every news station as of late.
Today, Tony Stark was dressed very sharply in some expensive tailored suit and was without his famous Iron Man suit on. Meeting his gaze, Tony smirked and shuffled down to where Seto was sitting.
"Brother, there you are!" a shrill voice caught their ears and Mokuba appeared at his brother's shoulder to complete the picture. His eyes widened a fraction when he spotted Tony.
Another grin appeared on Tony's face; "Barkeep, a glass of apple juice on my tab please."
"Put it on my tab, along with Mr. Stark's drinks." Seto barked the order fiercely.
The poor barkeep looked as though he might faint as Seto glared daggers at Tony and the latter simply smirked back in a clever sort of way. Neither ego would give a fraction and after a full moment of utter silence, Mokuba finally decided to intercede, mostly because he was actually rather thirsty.
"Uh Brother? Mr. Stark?" both heads jerked to him and Mokuba swallowed nervously; "It's an open bar."
END
Just an idea that's been running around my head. Both Kaiba and Tony are the CEO's of former weapon's manufacturers. both grabbed their own destiny by the horns. Both are awesome.
