Seto Kaiba liked crowds. He liked them best when they were because of him. He liked them even better when he was able to view said crowd from his blimp or his private helicopter or perhaps a large podium. People only formed crowds when something they severely liked or severely hated was going on. Kaiba knew he had attracted both kinds of attention. But attention was attention; positive or negative, Kaiba accepted all of it.
But when one was in a crowd… that was an entirely different matter.
It was stuffy and hot in the middle of the group of people. There was lots of shouting, grabbing, a floundering of arms. He hated to mix himself with this sort, these elderly retired women and insistent mothers of six. It was even less unfair that they were all armed with purses, in a variety of outgoing snake skin, dull leather, neon faux fur, each bag filled to the brim with cosmetics and overdue library books. Kaiba now knew the real reason that they were kept: they were the perfect weapon for battling off others of their kind, as a sort of wrecking ball, or perhaps a flail.
"Drat it all," Kaiba thought angrily as he was elbowed in the side for nearly the one hundredth time, "if I had one of those purses, I would be virtually unstoppable." But the skilled duelist would never dream of letting his reputation sink that low.
So why was he here, in this predicament, fighting off females in a hardly dignifying manner? Why, even he wanted a chance to save money, the lot of money he had.
"Seto!" his little brother, Mokuba, shouted from outside the bustle. "Get the blue sweater vest! BLUE!"
"I'm… trying… Mokuba…" Kaiba grunted, reaching forward, over the graying heads of the fellow bargain shoppers. Yes, that's right: it was bargain day down at the Domino Discount store and Kaiba was determined to go. He himself would never buy such petty clothes, but Mokuba was certainly deserving of such. After all, this was money he, Seto Kaiba, had earned through hard labor, black mail and lots of illegal exchanges. Was he going to waste that much of it on his child brother? Certainly not! He needed that to buy his own, finely-tailored clothes, after all. They cost quite a fortune. Sometimes Mokuba's well-being had to be put aside for more important issues.
He had only been able to get away with dressing Mokuba in the same outfit so many days in a row. (That would seventy-two, but who's counting?) Kaiba had recently received a call from Mokuba's teacher, her voice lilted with concern and perhaps with a threat to call the adoptive agency. Seto knew he needed Mokuba. After all, no one else did his work so willingly. But it seemed that lately Kaiba had been exploiting/ignoring one or seven child labor laws. So before the Press accused him of being the abusive caretaker that he was, Kaiba was attempting to cover it up by buying Mokuba a new outfit.
This was, however, harder than expected. The swatting purses, the angered cries, it was getting to be a wee bit too much for poor Kaiba. Was it really that worth it? Well, he already knew the answer to that question.
"I've got to do this," Kaiba encouraged himself. "My image is at stake!"
Seto felt his spine telescope as he finally managed to reach the sweater vest Mokuba had requested. Ah! That had hurt. Mokuba's lunch money would have to be cut down to three dollars a day so he wouldn't feel guilty about paying to seek medical attention. Still, he had accomplished his goal.
"Mokuba!" he shouted, pleased with his feat. "I got it!"
Kaiba was about to hoist it up, when he felt it being dragged down from the opposite end.
"Back off, sonny!" an old woman growled, tugging at the plaid fibers. "I saw it first!"
Kaiba gasped. She dared stand up to him so directly? He laughed heartily. Perhaps she didn't know whom he was.
"Excuse me, ma'am," Kaiba began, trying to keep his voice at a calm level, "but I don't believe you realize who you're talking to. I'm Seto Kaiba."
"Yeah, I know you," the woman grunted. "You're that fellow who's on my granddaughter's lunchbox."
Seto grimaced. They were putting his face on everything these days. He could sue them for illegal use of his image, but he was too afraid of the money he would spend hiring a lawyer. Then again, he could always sell Mokuba's bed…
"How very cute. How about an autograph and we'll call it even?" Kaiba tried to wrench the vest free from her grasp, but she was persistent.
"You watch your mouth, whippersnapper. My granddaughter's old enough to be your mother."
"…" And she had a lunchbox of him?
Seto glanced above everyone's heads. Mokuba was waiting outside the circle of women and waved cheerily at his brother. Kaiba could feel the fabric slowly slipping from his fingers. After all the cards he had lifted, he was a little upset it had done next to nothing for his finger strength.
"Attention, shoppers," said a metallic voice over the loudspeaker, "all items bought in the next five minutes are 75% off! I repeat, all items bought in the next five minutes are 75% off!"
With a feral snarl, Kaiba yanked with all his might. There was no way he was going to let this opportunity pass him by now. He had to get the sweater vest, before the lines filled up!
Then he felt it. The sweater vest was free! It was his! His eyes clouded with joy. He had done it! He was surely the best now!
For a second, he was caught in the moment, hugging his prize tightly against him. Then he remembered the line. The crowd of women rushing towards the discount aisles was a strong current. He'd have to maneuver through it: undercover agent style.
Seto Kaiba dove down into the crowd. He slipped between the legs and tucked his limbs into a ball. Then he somersaulted as he had never somersaulted before. Once, twice, three times he rolled, until he was free from the crowd. He clambered to his feet, and ran towards his brother at lightning speed.
"Hey, bro, I tied my shoes all by- OOF!" Mokuba was thrust onto Kaiba's shoulder potato-sack style as he passed by.
"No time! Must-get-to-register!" Kaiba's words slurred together with the intensity of the moment. People were already flocking to the cashiers! He was running out of time!
"Attention, shoppers," said the same voice again, "you only have thirty seconds left to buy your things if you want a 75% discount! Hurry, hurry!"
"I'm hurry-hurrying!" Seto shouted unintentionally.
"Brother, you're scaring me…" Mokuba mumbled nervously.
Kaiba felt the seconds ticking by with every beat of his heart. He was still several yards away! Would he make it?
"I have to make it," he muttered.
Kaiba crouched down low to floor and dropped Mokuba there for less weight. Then he sprung up into the air, arms clasped in front of him and pointed skyward. He leapt high above the other customers, who watched him in awe. The adrenaline was almost unbearable.
"Ten seconds…"
He was traveling through the air-
"Five seconds…"
"Four…"
"Three…"
Kaiba stuck the landing, right at the front of the line.
"Two…"
"I want to buy this! Just this! Let's go, go, GO!" Kaiba slammed the countertop frantically. The cashier checked, afraid for his life.
"One…"
A buzzer sounded throughout the area. A lot of people groaned miserably.
Kaiba was not one of those people.
"Check it out, Mokuba," he said, approaching his brother with a satisfied grin. "I got the sweater vest! And for a mere twelve cents!"
"Keh… Don't tread on me…" Mokuba choked under the weight of the female shoppers who were now clomping over him in their depression. "I mean… That's great, Seto!"
"Get off the floor. You're shaming the family name," Kaiba snapped irritably. "Come on, now, let's get the limo and head back to Kaiba Corp."
"What are we having for dinner tonight?" Mokuba asked, skipping after Seto merrily.
"Well I don't know what you're having, but I'm having half a pound of mutton with asparagus," Seto answered.
Mokuba sighed. "I guess I'll have that candy bar I saved from lunch…"
"That's a good boy. Now put on your sweater vest in case the Press is watching," Kaiba demanded, holding it out.
"But it still has the tags-"
"Don't be a wimp. Put it on."
Mokuba reluctantly pulled it over his head. "How do I look?"
Seto pondered for a second. "Like a loser."
Mokuba's eyes widened. "Brother! How could you!"
"Don't take it the wrong way, Mokuba. I meant it suits you," Kaiba encouraged, giving him a rather enthusiastic thump on the back.
"Okay then…" Mokuba rubbed his back where he had been thumped.
"Seto! Look at the newspaper!" Mokuba shouted, running into the kitchen where his older brother was devouring a grapefruit with a light dusting of sugar. "Check out the article! Why were you doing a cartwheel in the mall?"
"'Seto Kaiba Deemed Clinically Insane'. Well, it's not like we haven't heard that one before. Is that the best the Press has?" Kaiba turned back to his citrus.
"But look at this next one," Mokuba read. "'Kaiba's Brotherly Love is Second Place to Money'!"
"Blast. Looks like I'll have to raise the level of oxygen in your room to 18% to really make an impact with the reporters," Kaiba growled, squeezing his serrated spoon with distaste. It wasn't fair. Only he ever got a bill for air content.
"You really do love me… Don't you, Seto?" Mokuba sniffled.
"I don't know, Mokuba. Let's check my pocket thesaurus." Kaiba flipped his pocket thesaurus open. "Love, n.: adoration, passion, yearning."
"Do you?" Mokuba repeated.
"What? Yeah, I wrote your name next to 'love'," Seto said, pointing to a few self-written letters.
Mokuba blinked. "'See: Money'. That says 'money', Seto."
"Mokuba, money; they both start with 'M-O', don't they?"
Mokuba brightened. "So you do love me?"
"I just said that, Money."
"Yayz!"
Mokuba hugged Seto.
"Ow. I think I just felt my style cramp. Don't you have some homework to do? Or something?" Kaiba muttered, trying to shoo his little brother.
"Oh yeah. Thanks! You're the best big brother ever!" Mokuba skipped away, saying to himself, "New shirt… Breathable air… Wow! Life is good!"
"Whatever… At least I get his college mokuba…" Seto also said to himself. "Wait… what?"
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