DISCLAIMER: Yu-Gi-Oh does not belong to me. I am merely having some fun with the concept and the characters. Thank you.

Birthday Obligations.

Mokuba's twelfth birthday was, in his opinion, the best ever.

School had sucked of course, but that couldn't really be helped. No; what made the day for him was being able to book the rest of the day off to visit the arcade with Yugi, Anzu, Honda and Jonouchi.

Usually he'd be back at Kaiba Corp, checking up on Seto and generally making sure everything was running smoothly. Mokuba sometimes thought that he worked harder than any other kid alive; sure, at most boys his age had a paper round or something… not an entire day's scheduling and making sure no one was having heart-attacks over Seto's constant demands.

But he'd made sure with everyone that he was not working today, he'd left his 'work' phone at home, and he had no intention of stepping inside the Kaiba Corp Building until midnight.

Well… that had been his intention.

He'd organized this with Yugi last week. It was kind of odd, asking his brother's arch rival if he'd like to help him celebrate his birthday with him.

'Sure,' Yugi had said, sounding cautiously thrilled with the idea. 'But… Mokuba, doesn't Seto have plans for you today?'

'Nah,' had been the reply, 'Niisama said he's going to a meeting in Hong Kong for the day, I won't see him 'til the day after at least.'

'Kaiba doesn't celebrate your birthday with you?' Jonouchi sounded appalled, 'What sort of… I mean, that's really tough, Mokuba.'

Mokuba shrugged, 'Seto's really busy at the moment. He might give me a card or something later. He didn't remember my birthday at all, last year, and we've never had much in the way of birthdays anyway.' He thought he did a pretty good job of hiding the bitterness in his voice.

'What about your friends at school?' asked Anzu, 'don't you want to hang out with some kids more your age?'

Mokuba shifted on his feet, 'Yeah… well… I've… not really got many friends at school. They don't like to come near me.'

'You're not… you're not being bullied, are you Mokuba?'

He snorted at Yugi's words, 'Yeah, right. Like anyone would bully Seto Kaiba's little brother. No, that's not it. It's just that… the kids there are all from rich families and stuff they're not… well… not like me. So… if it's OK I'd like to spend the day with you guys.'

Yugi and Jonouchi exchanged worried glances, 'Look,' said Yugi, a little nervously, 'it's not as if I don't want to but… what can we do? We don't really have the money to take you anywhere exciting and-'

'You don't have to!' he insisted, 'I don't want… I don't need to go anywhere exciting, I just… I just want to hang out with you guys, you know? Go to the amusement arcade or something.'

His words must have assured them because they agreed and a week later, after school, they were together at the arcade.

It was a great day.

He played on DDR with Anzu (and was horrendously beaten,) the shoot-ups with Honda (same) and a race-car simulator with Joey (he won that at least.)

Yugi had to be goaded into the various games, and when he did play he did so in a manner completely different from usual. He seemed… less intense.

Mokuba wondered if this was because the 'spirit' wasn't in control, then mentally chided himself for entertaining such a notion. Seto said the spirit was just some fanciful conception of Yugi's, possibly created to put his opponent off guard, possibly created because he was mentally unstable.

Outwardly Mokuba agreed, but privately… he wondered if it wasn't true. He seemed so different, and his friends obviously believed in it, truly, honestly believed it. Yugi was too honest for such psych games and, whilst perhaps not the sanest person on the face of the planet, there was something about him which didn't quite fit the 'psychotic' stereotype.

Regardless, Mokuba was proud to say that he gave Yugi quite a run for his money that day, beating him, or coming close to beating him, in almost every game they played.

At seven O'clock, having grown tired of the Arcade, the group made their way to the nearest burger bar for dinner.

Mokuba had his meal bought for him, of course, and his gifts presented to him.

None of them were particularly spectacular, but Mokuba didn't mind. They were presents given to him by people who cared for him, not people who felt like they should, not people who wanted to get in his good books… people who liked him.

It was about eight and he was just in the middle of telling them about the time Seto had played Tetrolis 15 hours straight to beat Yugi's score at the Arcade when his personal phone rang.

Mokuba always kept two phones, one for work, one for personal use. Not many people knew the number to his personal phone, and a good chunk of them were here right now with him so the likelihood was…

Picking up the phone he made wild hand-gestures for the others to be silent.

'Hay Niisama! Are you OK? I thought you would be in that meeting right now?'

'Mokuba,' Seto's voice sounded even harsher than usual across the phone, 'where are you?'

'I… I thought you were at that meeting in Hong Kong?'

'The meeting was cancelled. Where are you?'

Seto sounded annoyed, Mokuba's hand tightened on the cell phone.

'I'm… just out with some friends. Do you need me to come home?'

'Yes.'

'O-Ok, I'll be there soon.'

Mokuba put down the phone and made to stand up.

'Where are you going?' asked Jonouchi, a little angrily, 'I thought you were stayin' out 'til midnight with us!'

'Yeah,' agreed Honda, 'we were gonna watch that movie.'

'Sorry guys,' Mokuba grinned sheepishly, 'Niisama wants me home.'

Jonouchi opened his mouth and was probably just about to say something disparaging about Seto, but Yugi cut him off.

'Well, if you've got to go then do you want us to walk you home?'

'Yeah,' said Mokuba, glad that Yugi had spoken first, 'that'd be good.'

In the end it was past nine when he arrived back. Yugi and his friends had been fine company, but they walked slowly and, if Mokuba was honest with himself, he wasn't in any mood to get back particularly quickly either.

He let himself into the Kaiba mansion quietly padded down the halls. There weren't any servants about at this time, save the odd body-guard and, was it his imagination? Or were they giving him odd looks? It was almost as if they were annoyed with him.

It was probably just his subconscious transcribing Niisama's expression over their faces. Mokuba's belly did a little dive as he thought about what lay in store for him. Seto hadn't sounded happy.

And he'd been having such a nice birthday…

At last he came to the study, where Seto was probably waiting for him. He took in a deep breath and, slowly, opened the door.

Seto wasn't sitting at his desk. Instead he was sprawled across the white, armless couch, legs crossed, and a book in his lap.

Mokuba knew immediately that something was up. Seto looked… not just annoyed, but fed up, even board.

A strange combination coming from Seto Kaiba who was sometimes to be too busy to give his little brother so much as the time of day.

'Are you alright, Niisama?' he asked tremulously.

Seto turned to him, his eyes hard. Mokuba's hand tightened on the door a little.

'Stop dithering in the door,' snarled Seto, 'come in and see.'

The dark haired boy reluctantly stepped through the threshold, his eyes widened a he took in the scene in front of him.

It hadn't been visible from the doorway, but to the left, in front of the rows of book-cases a large table had been placed. Plates and platters of all sorts adorned this table, and upon each dish were various foods, each looking more sumptuous than the last. Finally, above that table hung a large sign reading, 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOKUBA!'

Mokuba blinked, almost unable to take the scene in.

'It's mostly gone cold now;' remarked Seto bitterly, 'but I'm sure most of it can be re-heated.'

'I… I've already eaten,' said Mokuba dully. 'How long have you been waiting for me?'

His brother snorted, 'Six hours now, since school finished.'

'But I thought you were at a meeting in Hong-Kong!'

Seto cast him a withering gaze, 'I lied. I wanted to surprise you. I had planned to take you to that American Theme park you liked so much… I had the place emptied for us. It's too late to do that now.'

Mokuba didn't feel much sorry over that, in the course of doing research for Kaiba Land he'd visited a plethora of Theme Parks and, truth be told, he was thoroughly sick of them

'I… you could have told me about this!'

'Look up the meaning of the word 'surprise,' Mokuba, then ask me that question again.'

'I… I'm sorry, Niisama…'

Seto only snorted again and looked away, back to the book on his knee.

Mokuba fidgeted for a while, not sure what to do or say.

'Aren't you going to open your presents?' Enquired Seto at last, putting down his book and turning his severe eyes upon his little brother. With one slender arm his gestured to a small pile of wrapped objects which Mokuba had hitherto not noticed beneath the table.

'Thanks,' said Mokuba, dashing eagerly towards them and fumbling with the wrapping, anything to keep from meeting his brother's stern gaze.

'It's only a few things,' remarked Seto as he set to work, 'I thought I would get you something else in town, if you wanted anything.'

'Yeah,' thought Mokuba, 'because it's not like I've got the cash to afford anything.

The first gift turned out to be a new set of clothing. A nice style, he liked the colours but…

'Is something wrong?'

'Thanks Niisama,' he said, trying to sound pleased, 'but… it'll never fit. It's too small.'

Seto blinked, 'I…' for once he sounded a little lost for words, 'I… I'll get it changed tomorrow for a larger size. Open the next one.'

Mokuba nodded and hurriedly went onto the next gift.

'CapMon?' he asked, a little surprised, as he examined the box of thirty rare CapMon. 'Of course, I trust they meet with your approval?'

'Yeah… they're great but…' Mokuba paused and smiled sheepishly, 'I already have these ones. I got them a couple of months ago.'

Seto frowned, 'I didn't know that,' he admitted.

'It's alright!' Mokuba insisted, getting up to his feet, 'I mean, I can always swap them in for some other ones or something and… and it's always useful to have duplicates, right? Like the way you have three Blue Eyes White Dragon cards! So if you loose one-'

'I'd never 'loose' a Blue Eyes, Mokuba.'

'I know but… never mind.' Mokuba sighed and moved onto the third and final present. It was small, rectangular package and its weight and feel was all too familiar in his small hands.

He slowly unwrapped it, the paper falling away to reveal the familiar images of a Duel Monsters deck.

'I made it myself,' said Seto proudly. 'It's got some excellent cards in there, perfectly balanced for your playing style. I'll give you a game later, if you want.'

'Thanks, Niisama,' said Mokuba softly.

'Do you want something to eat?'

'N… no, I've already eaten. But I'll have some cake.' Cake. Cake was safe. You couldn't go wrong with cake.

'Very well, shall I cut it?'

'No, I will.'

Mokuba stepped up to the table and uncovered the large, silver platter which he presumed to contain the cake.

He paused for a moment. It was double chocolate. At least Seto had that right but…

'Is something wrong?'

Seto's voice cut the air like the knife Mokuba was holding. His hand trembled a little and he gazed upon the simple, white lettering on the chocolate icing.

'Seto…' he said slowly. 'Why has this got Happy Eleventh Birthday on it?'

He could almost see the sneer on his brother's face. 'It's your birthday, Mokuba, you're eleven. Do the maths.'

'But I'm not.'

'What?'

'Eleven,' said Mokuba slowly, 'I'm twelve. Today is my twelfth birthday.'

'Nonsense! I recall your last birthday clearly, it was your tenth.'

He was very careful not to turn around, very careful to set down the knife. 'What do you remember about it?'

'Not much, except that Gozeburo let me take the evening off to spend time with you. It was unusually charitable of him.'

'Seto… think about it. When was that?'

'I can't have been in the coma for it… I was in that for six months, and I came out three months ago…' Seto was musing to himself now, voice low. 'But… Gozaboro had been gone… how long before my coma? Seven months… yes, seven months and two weeks so…'

There was a dreadful silence then…

'I… miscalculated. I'll send it back to the kitchen; they'll put some new icing on it.'

'Don't bother,' grouched Mokuba, 'I'm really not hungry.'

'Where did you eat earlier?' asked Seto.

'A burger bar.'

Seto snorted derisively.

'I was with Yugi and his friends,' protested Mokuba, spinning round to face his brother, 'they couldn't afford much else, it was their treat!'

'Yugi's friends?' the look of distain of Seto's face was clear, 'you can do better than that.'

'Yeah? Like who?'

'Like your school colleagues for one.'

Now it was Mokuba's turn to be disdainful, 'Those guys? Half of them are just toadies wanting to slime up to me because I have 'Kaiba' as my second name, the other half are too almost too scared to speak to me because they're worried of what you'll do to them! At least Yugi and his friends treat me as an equal. They like me for who I am, they're not afraid of me or-'

'I wouldn't bet on it.' Seto's voice was hard now, angry. 'Those twerps are probably just trying to get close to you to get to me.'

'That's not true! And even if it were, at least they remember how old I am!' Mokuba was screaming now, rage filling him. 'At least they get me presents they know I'll like, rather than what's convenient for them! At least they care about me!'

'You're saying I don't? Seto rose from the chair now, his tall form towering above Mokuba, 'Have you forgotten Duel Island? Do you think that I rescued you because it was 'convenient' for me?'

'Well if you'd paid more attention to me in the first place maybe I wouldn't have needed rescuing!'

'I do pay attention to you!'

'Really? Did you pay attention to what size my clothes are? Did you pay attention to what CapMon I have? Did you pay attention to what age I was? Did you pay attention to the fact that I HATE DUEL MONSTERS?'

Mokuba picked up the deck Seto had given him and flung it across the room, where it scattered, the cards fluttering everywhere.

He was in full fledged tantrum mode now. He'd not done this for what felt like years and it felt more than cathartic, it felt bloody brilliant.

'You don't pay me any attention at all!' he screamed, 'you just… you just treat me like some… some symbol! You don't love me, you just feel obliged to me, like you feel obliged to Kaiba Corp! Running after me is just a habit, another obligation! Jonouchi could be your bother and it wouldn't make any difference! You don't care for me except when it's convenient for you, or when you're forced to! You… I… I wish I didn't have you as a big brother! You're a lousy brother!'

He paused, panting for breath. A dreadful silence filled the room.

Seto was still, his face white, his breathing seemed almost as fast and deep as Mokuba's, and Mokuba immediately felt awful.

The correct, mature thing to do, Mokuba realized, would be to take a deep breath and apologise to Seto. To say that he didn't really mean those things, that it was OK really because Seto was very busy and he did care and… and…

But Mokuba was not feeling very mature. He had just turned twelve, had had his birthday utterly ruined, was angry, guilt ridden and, at the same time, feeling more than a little self-righteous.

All this considered; he did what he felt the only thing a boy of his age could do.

He turned on his heel and ran from the room.

A sharp knocking on his door caused Ryou Bakura to jump slightly, which in turn caused the brush in his hand to veer, which in turn ruined the painstakingly painted model he'd been working on.

Putting down the tiny figurine he took a slow, deep breath and moved to the door. He peeped through the spy hole, trying to see who it was.

He saw only the opposite wall.

Most people would have given up then, but Bakura had Yugi as a friend.

He stood on tip toes so as to get a better angle to see downwards, which was the only reason he saw the top of Mokuba's head.

'Mokuba?' he said, more than a little surprised that the boy should be visiting at all, let alone visiting so late into the night.

'Yeah, it's me,' said the boy. His voice sounded a bit horse and breathless, as if he'd been screaming or crying. 'Can I come in?'

'Of course,' replied Ryou, feeling that he hadn't much of a choice really.

After unlocking the door and pulling all the latches he opened the door to the boy.

'Thanks,' said Mokuba, sloping in, 'it was getting cold out there.'

'Would you like something to drink?' asked Ryou politely, 'I have tea? Juice? Coke?'

'Nah, I'm fine. Thanks for letting me in.'

'It's fine but…' Ryou paused for a moment, then, 'but… if you don't mind me asking… why are you here?'

Mokuba looked nervous, he didn't meet Ryou's eye, the very picture of a guilty child. 'Me and Seto got into an argument,' he said at last.

'Oh,' replied Ryou, really not sure what else to say.

He couldn't picture those two having a disagreement. Kaiba was… well, Kaiba was a bit of a jerk, if he was honest, but he was also a very caring brother from what Ryou had seen and, perhaps more to the point, Mokuba was very devoted to him. The idea of them arguing was… strange.

'Wouldn't you be better at Yugi's?' he found himself asking. 'Not that I don't want you here!' he added hurriedly, suddenly aware of the potential faux pass in the making, 'but… well…'

There was no easy way to put it. He and Mokuba had never really been good friends. They were hardly more than acquaintances really. The only reason Mokuba knew where he lived was because he'd invited everyone round to watch videos a few weeks back and Mokuba had tagged along. It was really astounding that he'd managed to remember the way.

Then again, it was Mokuba Kaiba.

Mokuba shrugged, seeming to understand what Ryou meant. 'Seto knows I was hanging out with Yugi and his friends earlier so that'll be the first place he'll look. He hardly knows you and me have had contact, so I should be safe here for a bit.'

The use of the word 'safe,' made Ryou feel more than a little bit nervous. Visions of Seto Kaiba charging in on the back of a Blue Eyes White Dragon, screaming for his little brother, briefly filled his mind's eye. He shook the notion away, lightly chiding his overactive imagination. Seto Kaiba would never do anything like that… would he?'

'W-why don't you want Mr Kaiba to find you?' stuttered Ryou.

'Because I don't.' Replies Mokuba evasively, 'Hay, is that a pentagram?' He pointed towards a poster on Ryou's wall and strolled towards it.

'Yes. Look, Mokuba… it doesn't seem like you two to get into fights. Did… did something happen?'

'Not really. Hey,' he'd turned to investigate some of the books on Ryou's desk, 'why's that woman not wearing any-'

Bakura dashed forward and snatched up the offending fantasy book and quickly slipped it into the shelving unit.

'Mokuba,' he tried again, 'I… if Mr Kaiba… if he did something to hurt you then…' he wished he was better at this sort of thing, like Yugi or Tea or even Jonouchi, 'well… you can tell me.'

Not that he truly could imagine Mr Kaiba ever hurting Mokuba, though he could picture him hurting practically anyone else on the face of the planet. Still, if Mokuba was in some sort of trouble then he needed to know what.

The boy looked more than a little nervous, more than a little guilty.

'No… no it's just… it's hard to explain…'

'Try me,' said Ryou, because that's the kind of thing you do say on these occasions. He sat down on the bed and gestured to Mokuba to take a seat on the desk chair.

The kid did so, looking rather lost.

'It's… it's just that it was… it is my birthday,' he began, rather helplessly, 'and last year he forgot it but… well, this year he remembered it. But he forgot that he forgot last year and he only gave me really lame presents and- I sound really spoiled, don't I?'

'I… I wouldn't say that,' said Bakura carefully, 'but I don't quite see what the problem is. Isn't it a good thing if he remembered your birthday this time?'

'Kinda.' Mokuba sighed, drawing his knees up to his chin. 'It's just that… well… it's like he's remembered my birthday out of obligation, not because it means anything, but because he feels like he should remember it. It makes me feel like… like I'm just this big weight dragging him down. It's horrible. At least when he forgot my birthday I didn't feel like I was bothering him in any way. Now he says he loves me, and he expects me to be really grateful for the… the birthday he gave me but it's not… it's not me. It's just a generic birthday.'

Ryou nodded, looking thoughtful. He wondered what he could say.

He fiddled with the collar of his shirt, trying to pick out the right words.

'Have you tried… perhaps if you talked to him?'

'I already did that,' grouched Mokuba. 'He didn't listen.'

'No I mean… I mean… well, he's not to know how to give you a good birthday if you don't tell him what you want, is he?'

'I do!' Mokuba protested, straightening up a little and glaring fiercely at Ryou. 'You've seen how I treat him! But he just… he just…'

'I'm not saying this isn't partly his fault!' Ryou put in quickly, raising his hands to placate Mokuba and wishing he'd not talked in the first place. 'But at the same time… you have to try to talk to him.'

'Why should I!' Mokuba got to his feet, his voice raised. 'I'm sick of being the one who always follows him around! If he really loves me why can't he talk to me! What do you know anyway?'

'I… had a sister, and hardly talked to her at the end so…'

Ryou wasn't quite sure what had caused him to say this. He felt the familiar heavy pain of loss in his gut, like a cold dagger, and inwardly winced.

'You… had?'

'She died, last year,' Ryou continued, feeling that he might as well get this over with. 'I'm sorry,' muttered Mokuba, the anger just draining from him.

Ryou shrugged. 'It's alright,' he said. 'but… look… when, err… during the months before she died I… well… there was the ring and Yugi and all that stuff. I… I didn't really get chance to talk to her, you see? I phoned my father up every week, to let my family know I was alright but I never… I told them I loved them but I never really talked to her, you know? Not even when bad things started to happen. I didn't feel like I should… didn't think she would be interested or… I don't know… maybe I just couldn't be bothered. Then… one day… she just… died.'

The pain was deep and heavy in his gut now, he blinked a few times. Mokuba was silent, it was an awkward kind of silent and suddenly Ryou felt very selfish, for talking about this, for bringing it up. For making his catharsis Mokuba's business. But still… he had to say this… there was a reason.

'Now every time I think of her I think… of all the things I should have said. I wish I had talked to her about, well… everything really. But I can't… I never can. I told her I loved her, she knew that but we never had… I never really knew her.'

He looked up at Mokuba and for a moment he was tempted to tell him about the letters he wrote, about all the regrets… about all the secrets… about the ring…

But Mokuba didn't need to know that, he didn't need to know any of this really. But he should know because…

'You should talk to Seto, Mokuba. He has a wonderful brother but… I don't truly think he has any friends and, out of all the people in the world, I think you are best suited to being that.'

Mokuba looked away from him, shifted on his feet. 'I know,' he said at last, reluctantly, 'but why do I have to be the one always following him?'

'Er… I don't mean to sound rude, Mokuba,' said Bakura, a little cautiously, 'but I think, out of the two of you, you are the more likely to make the first move. Mr Kaiba… well… he's not the most emotionally open of people.'

'I guess you're right,' Mokuba sighed, even deigning to smile a little. 'Thanks, Ryou.'

Ryou shrugged and smiled sheepishly, pleased with the praise.

'I suppose I should go home now,' the boy continued, a little reluctantly. 'Seto will probably be worried sick, and waiting around won't make it any easier.'

'If you want,' said Ryou, 'I… er… hope everything goes alright.'

Mokuba managed a weak smile, 'I'm sure it will,' he said, getting up. 'Or at least, I don't think it'll get any worse. Thanks for letting me in, Ryou.'

'No problem,' said the white haired teen, also arising from his seat and showing Mokuba out.

When he was gone he let out a deep breath and leaned against the door, feeling his regrets close in on him once again.

The night had grown cold and quiet. Mokuba shivered as he headed down the street, away from Bakura's house and back towards Kaiba mansion.

He was so deeply engrossed in his own thoughts that he hardly noticed Seto until he'd nearly walked right past him.

He was standing on the corner of the street, not fifty steps from Ryou's, his arms folded and his head slightly bent, glowering at the pavement, trench coat drifting around him.

Mokuba paused, wide eyed he gaze at Seto wondering, absurdly, how he'd found him. But of course; Seto could doubtless always find him. He'd probably had some sort of tracking bug put on his phone of something, after the first kidnapping Seto wasn't going to let his brother go missing again.

They stood there in silence, Mokuba wondering what to say. No… no he knew what to say. He should say that he was sorry, that Seto really was a good brother. That he loved him and took back absolutely everything he'd said before but… he didn't. Seto was a good brother, he did love him, but he wasn't sorry and he didn't want to take back what he'd said before because… because in a way it was true. Did that make him a bad brother? For wanting a brother who took care of him and who paid attention to him, in the good times as well as the bad? Was that so selfish?

Ryou said that he should try and become Seto's friend but… to even start talking he'd have to lie and was it really OK to start a friendship with a lie?

Was it really fair?

Mokuba clenched his fists and bit down upon his lip. He would not cry… he would not cry. He was the brother of Seto Kaiba. Vice President of Kiaba Corp. He'd practically run it when Seto was in his coma. He would not cry!

'Come on.' Seto's voice was gruff and, without another word he set off, Mokuba trailing behind him like always.

In truth Mokuba was almost grateful for the silence. It gave him time to think, time to dread. What would happen at the mansion? Probably nothing. Seto would probably just order him to bed and the next morning would continue as if nothing had happened, which was worse than yelling really. Because if Seto was angry, if Seto was snappish it gave Mokuba something to fight back against, gave Mokuba some justification. As it was… Seto would be silent and through that silence would come a sort of self-justification, a feeling that nothing needed to be said because Seto was right and he was being tender and respectful by allowing Mokuba the dignity of silence.

But that wasn't respect or tenderness, it was just arrogance.

It meant that fighting Seto when he was in this mood was like fighting shadows and it was drawing a wedge between them. The worst of it was that it wasn't even lack of love that was causing it. It was as if Seto had all the important parts of being a brother down pat, but the unimportant things, the little things, weren't there. A house built without mortar, ready, waiting to tumble down.

'Mokuba?'

Mokuba looked up and was surprised to see Seto had stopped and was sitting down on one of the public benches that littered Domino City. He sat there, the light from the streetlamp above casting his face into stark contrast. His head lowered, the shadow of his hair hiding his eyes, all that could be clearly seen was the severe line of his mouth. His legs were crossed, his arms likewise, the seat to the side of him was conspicuously empty and Mokuba knew, without being told further, that he was to join his brother on that cold bench.

Mokuba waited, hoping, praying that Seto would say something. Even if it were to scold, to sneer, to mock… it would be a start, a start to become more than brothers. To become friends.

e There was the rustle of cloth, Seto reached into his coat pocket and drew out what looked like a folded piece of paper. 'Here,' he said gruffly, handing it to Mokuba. Mokuba had seen Seto hand over billion yen checks with more ease than he was handing over this peace of paper now.

He quickly took it, turned it around, unfolded it, and gazed in wonder.

There was a picture drawn on the front and writing on the inside. Just three words.

'You… you made me a birthday card?'

Made. Not bought, not won, not earned… made.

Seto nodded once, quickly.

'It… thank you Niisama I... I'm sorry for what I said before.'

'Don't be,' grunted Seto, still not quite looking at his brother, 'it was true.'

'No! It… I mean, at least not the last bit. You're a great brother.'

'I ruined your birthday, I…' a pause, a deep breath, 'I've memorised every single card and rule in Duel Monsters, but when it comes to getting my own little brother birthday presents I am lost. I've failed as a brother… as a real brother.'

'You're there when it counts! You're not perfect but, well… you're my big brother. Everyone fails sometimes. It's how we learn, yeah?'

'Failure means death.'

'Well that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger.'

Seto turned, facing him for the first time. A shadow of a smile was upon his lips now. 'Touché,' he said, softly.

Mokuba grinned, a wide, easy grin, his joy warming his blood.

Seto leant back, long arms coming to rest around the back of the bench, his head sloping back so that it was fully lit by the lamp. He looked almost rapturous then, under the golden light, but that was probably just some fancy of Mokuba's imagination.

It wasn't an apology, Mokuba knew. But then Seto Kaiba didn't do apologise. To say 'Sorry,' was to admit defeat and even though Seto had suffered defeat he had never given into it and he never would.

Sometimes Mokuba found himself wishing that he was as strong. Sometimes he found himself thanking his lucky stars he was not.

'I've taken tomorrow off.' remarked Seto at last.

'Why?'

'That's up to you… it is your birthday after all. Where do you want to go?'

'What about school?'

'What about it?'

Mokuba's grin widened, 'I wanna go to the beach,' he said.

'I'll book a flight.'

'No, just you and me and maybe the chuffer, to one of the local beaches… I don't need to go anywhere fancy. Just somewhere where we can mess about in the sand and stuff.'

'Alright.'

Mokuba held back a whoop of joy at the prospect of spending an entire day alone with his brother, on the beach. No duel monsters, no Kaiba Corp, just him and Seto.

He looked at the card again, studying the picture on the front.

'Niisama… why is the sky green?'

'What?'

'The sky, on this,' Mokuba gestured to the front of the card. 'You've coloured it green. Or maybe that's the lamp light…?'

'It's not sky, its grass.'

'Oh… I think the dragon would look better on sky, but it's very good.'

'It's… not a dragon.'

'Not a Blue Eyes?'

'No. It's a horse.'

'Why did you draw me a horse?'

'I don't know.' Seto sounded irritable now, 'I don't know what you like.'

'I like horses,' amended Mokuba quickly. 'But… no offence meant, Niisama, but your drawing sucks.'

'Why else do you think I pay those imbeciles in the Graphics department so much? Though considering some of their work recently maybe I shouldn't bother.'

Mokuba giggled, 'It's fine!' he said and he meant it. It was perhaps his best birthday present ever.

Seto got up from the bench. 'Come on,' he said, 'let's go home. We have a busy day tomorrow.'

'A fun day!' corrected Mokuba lightly, hurrying after his brother.

They talked a bit as they walked home, just this and that. Nothing important but every bit of it vital, every bit of it precious.

And when the cold made Mokuba shiver Seto took off his trench-coat and, without a word, slung it over his little brother's shoulders.

The End.

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-Yma