Kaiba.
Only one good thing had come of acquiring that name, "that" being the money. As for all of the shit… Seto tilted his head back, allowing his brown hair to be blown about by the wind. This was his favorite spot to think: the roof of the Kaiba Co. building. Hands in his coat pockets, he walked to the western wall of the roof and stared at the setting sun.
The sun was making its daily last stand, scattering its rays across the sky. Clouds were turned pink, the tips of skyscrapers orange and yellow, and the sky the peculiar shade of purple that only it could make.
The teen mogul leaned on his arms against the waist-high wall.
What have I accomplished?...
This was a special day for him; the anniversary of Gosaburo's disappearance. He shuddered, and stuck his hands back into the warmth of his pockets, fingering the bulk of his deck holder through his coat.
What have I done for Mokuba?...
He blinked. The wind was starting to dry his eyes. It had been blowing stronger than usual the past three weeks, and it was only getting worse. People had been sticking to their homes, not leaving except for necessities such as work, school, and grocery runs.
Sales were down. His migraines were up.
Maybe I should fire the person who gives me a migraine next… that should get the point across…
Seto lifted one of his slender hands from the coziness of his pockets and wiped at his eyes. It was probably only days, maybe hours before a freak hurricane formed. Seto was terrified of the possibility. Not for his safety, or Mokuba's, surprisingly; but Kaiba Land had recently started work on a 90 miles per hour "Harpie Lady Sisters" themed rollercoaster, and the frame was still vulnerable to high-speed winds.
He suppressed a groan. That was the last thing he needed, the last thing his aching head needed. If his "advisors" didn't stop yelling their "concerns"… Ugh.
Feeling his usual general disgust for the world, he broke his stare with the sun just as it reached beyond the horizon, and turned on his heel. As always, he had work to do.