A little Christmas fic with *gasp* no abuse and a happy ending! This is for all you Seto fans out there, my muse appreciates you all (while my other two are offended at the lack of recognition.) And Yu-Gi-Oh was created by the awesome Kazuki Takahashi…and then 4Kids took it and slaughtered it with dubbers and censorers (or whatever the word is), which is why I prefer to watch the original DVDs…and I'm getting off the subject. BTW, the title is Latin for "with a song."

Sorry it's so late, but my computer has been down for about a month so I couldn't post it sooner. Gomen nasai.

Cantico

"Niisama," Mokuba said softly, looking up at me. "Niisama, where are those people g-going?" He tried to hide the shiver, but I caught it easily. Shedding my equally thin sweater, I handed it to him and looked out the window where he pointed.

A group of colorfully-and warmly-dressed people was walking down the street, music books in hand and laughter in their faces. We watched them amble down the street and turn a corner towards a well-off neighborhood. "Those are carolers, Mokuba," I told him, turning back to the chessboard and moving my knight.

"What's that?"

"Well, see, it's Christmastime, right?"

"I guess."

"I know," I sighed, "nothing changes here for the holidays, but some people do a lot around this time of year. I'm sure you've noticed all the decorations everywhere. They do that and lots of other stuff."

"Like bringing trees inside? I saw lots of trees for sale."

"Yeah. Christmas trees. Sort of like the plastic one in the entrance hall."

Mokuba studied the game before him, his mind still on the season at hand. "That's silly, to bring trees in the house. I think they like it better outside where they can catch the snowflakes. I like catching snowflakes, but it makes me very cold." He breathed on his hands and pulled them inside the sweater sleeves. "It's cold inside too, but I think the trees' home is outside."

I shrugged. "Well, a lot of people do it anyway. And they put lights on the tree and hang pretty things on the branches. It's a way of celebration, I suppose. We had Christmas trees before you were born and before dad…died." I winced inwardly at the word.

He moved his queen. "Queer."

We were silent a moment, intent on the game.

"But what about the carolers?"

"Oh yeah. Well, they go out and sing."

He raised an eyebrow, not quite realizing the comical cuteness the expression had on his young face. "Sing? In this weather? That's crazier than the adopt-a-tree thing."

"Well, they seem to like it."

"I say. They were smiling when they walked by here."

"Yeah."

"Why do they sing?"

"Tradition, mostly. You know, walk around the neighborhood and sing a few well-known carols. But sometimes they go to cheer people up. Like, they'll go to elderly homes and sing for the people there."

"Why there?"

"Those people are lonely, I guess. Not a lot of people go to visit them or talk to them, and sometimes not a lot of people care. When others come sing, it's supposed to bring happiness. It shows that someone does care."

Mokuba was quiet, forgetting the chess game. "And us?"

"What about us?"

"Why don't they sing here?"

I hadn't thought about it that way. But his question brought a taste of bitterness into the moment. "It's not like it matters. We're just a couple little kids, the forgotten ones. Like when our relatives put us away here. We don't get carolers. That's why we have to hold on so tightly to each other. I'd never want to lose you, Mokuba."

He smiled brightly up at me. "I'd never ever ever ever want to lose you either, Niisama! You're the bestest in the whole world."

I smiled back. "Thanks, Mokuba. I'd carol for you, but I really don't think you want to hear me sing."

He giggled. "You can do anything and everything, Niisama. Someday, I bet you'll be the richest man in the whole wide world!"

"I don't know about that."

"But you'll try, right? Promise?"

"Promise…only for you."

"Pinky swear?"

I sighed. "All right. Pinky swear."

We linked our little fingers momentarily, a simple gesture of hope and faith all in one. I personally didn't feel a lot of either, but it made Mokuba happy. He grinned at me, rubbing the sleeve of the sweater I'd given him against his cheek. "Thank you, Niisama."

We didn't finish the chess game because the dinner bell rang. As usual, it wasn't much, but at least it was hot. The ladies who served us tried valiantly to be cheery, but the stress of so many ill-warmed children perpetually coming down with the flu was really getting to them. I sighed as Torao sneezed for the fiftieth time that hour. Oh, the joys of Christmas.

Mokuba slurped down his soup and some of mine. I let him, and finished the rest quietly, ignoring the hollow feeling inside of me. I guess I had gotten used to being hungry after the first few months at the orphanage. What worried me was that Mokuba had been coughing at night. I made a mental note to sneak him another blanket after lights out.

Little Tsuyoshi had pneumonia a while ago. He stayed in bed for a very long time, and then they put him in a room of his own; the room is empty now. The caretakers say he went somewhere else where he'll be happier. I don't have the heart to tell Mokuba that means he died. They had been friends.

"I wish we'd get carolers," Mokuba said softly, breaking into my thoughts.

I hugged him softly. "Someday, maybe, little brother. And not now only because people don't know what a great kid they're missing."

"When you're the richest man in the world," he said, eyes shining, "the carolers will come and come. But we won't be lonely then, so we won't even need carolers."

"They don't only come to lonely people, Mokuba. They come to all sorts."

"But not here," he said softly.

I nodded slowly. "No…I guess not here."

I was glad when Mokuba fell into an easy sleep that night. Sometimes he tossed and turned so much I feared he had a fever. I lay on the cot next to his, watching his still form and the rise and fall of his shoulders. My eyes closed in a slow blink, and opened again. Then they fell with a will of their own and remained that way.

Suddenly Mokuba was shaking me, whispering urgently into my ear to wake me. I blinked groggily at his large, excited eyes. "Wha…what is it?"

"Niisama? Do you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"That!" He was quiet for a moment, his head cocked slightly to one side.

I rolled over. "It's nothing, Mokuba. I'm sure. Go back to sleep."

"No, it's singing."

"Nobody sings at three in the morning. Go back to bed, Mokuba."

"But, Niisama!" He bounced up on to the bed and all but dragged me into a sitting position by the nightshirt collar. "Listen!"

I yawned, rubbing my eyes, and obliged. It's not as if he would have given me any quiet otherwise. Peace on earth indeed. I stopped mid-yawn. There was something.

"Do you hear the voices?" Mokuba asked, hushed and eager.

With a shiver, I realized I did. Whether they were far off or just quiet, I couldn't tell, but they were definitely there. I didn't recognize the tune, and the song didn't seem to have words, but the silvery melody said everything. The voices were unequaled in anything I'd heard before. Every note was perfectly in key, blending seamlessly into the song, flowing smoothly and gently.

As I listened, Mokuba dragged his blankets over to my bed and curled up, leaning against my shoulder as we drank in the music. A sudden peacefulness swept over me, and the night didn't seem so cold. "Can I stay here," whispered Mokuba, "until it's done?"

I nodded, still listening with rapt attention. The song stretched on with no end in sight, but I didn't mind. It was one of those rare tunes that you hope will never end, that you want to go on. Nobody else in the long room of cots stirred. I felt Mokuba's head sliding gradually down my shoulder. I glanced down as he blinked slowly.

"Not…sleepy…" he murmured, his head slipping lower.

I smiled and went on listening. A while later, I know not quite how long, Mokuba was asleep, his head resting on my knee. My eyes remained open. I would hear this song out to the very end.

But suddenly it was morning, and the sun was shining in through the windows. The room was silent except for Mokuba putting the blankets back on his own bed. As soon as he saw I was up, he ran over to my side. "Did you hear them last night?"

I nodded, sitting up slowly. "Yeah, but I have no idea who they were. Nobody goes around singing in the middle of the night."

Mokuba grinned. "I know who they were."

"You do? How? Who were they?"

He shook his head with a knowing smile. "Niisama, don't you see? Last night the angels came caroling."

R&R

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