"Bro?"
"What is it, Mokuba?" The barest hint of exhaustion laced Kaiba's tone with an unmistakable ire. This was the third time his kid brother had disturbed his focus, first to ask only what he was doing and then to ask if he was busy, tanking trains of thought and forcing him to break from what he was doing. This was getting old. He was sure there had been an idea there just now, and just as sure that it had been a damn good one. Mokuba, on the other hand, seemed relentlessly chipper today. Still trying to recall that treacherous idea of his, he looked up from his desk, disaster zone of creativity, his usual scowl implacable. "What do you need?" he reiterated as Mokuba responded with a smile and came further into his office.
"Nothin' really. I just wanted you to know that I forgive you for forgetting about today."
It was a subtle attack. If the surprise he felt refrained from reflecting on his face, Kaiba would have been grateful, though he wasn't entirely sure about that small twitch in his brow. He knew immediately what Mokuba was referring to, and yes... he had forgotten.
In the back of his mind there was a distinct tug of shame, but he did not respond as such. Instead, he looked back down at his project and started twiddling away with the screwdriver that was still in his hand. "It'll have to be tomorrow. I need to finish this."
"That's what you said yesterday." Kaiba gave the screw one too many turns and Mokuba looked down at his feet. He was tall enough to see well over his brother's desk now. When had that happened, Kaiba wondered? "Anyway, it's fine. I know you're busy. I'll leave you alone now." Kaiba stopped twisting at the screw briefly, wondering if he had utterly destroyed the thread yet. At what point would he need to drill it out and recut it? Still, he refused to look up.
Mokuba was still smiling slightly when he left, though for whatever reason, now Kaiba could perceive that it was a little bit forced. He felt a weight in the pit of his stomach. This was a guilt that only his little brother had ever been able to levy against him. The door shut behind Mokuba and he tried in earnest to get back to work.
It wasn't entirely a lie that he had told. He did need to finish. But this... this would make it harder than it needed to be.
Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and still, Kaiba could not get his brain back into his earlier streak of inventiveness. The half hour mark was when he finally accepted the futility of working around Mokuba's strangely effective mind game. He stood, rounding his desk.
Damnit. This would be Mokuba's last victory. He swore it.
Predictably, Mokuba had chosen the room with the largest TV to settle down in. Kaiba watched him and his cartoon for a moment before he actually approached, wordlessly settling onto the couch next to him. Mokuba looked up at him with curiosity, but Kaiba only stared ahead, as if seeing something in the TV that Mokuba couldn't.
"We can go now if you want," he finally said after a long moment of nothing.
"What changed your mind?" Mokuba asked as if he didn't know. Kaiba leveled a scathing look at him, but he only grinned, leaning over to throw his arms around his brother. "Doesn't matter, I guess."
Kaiba grumbled a response, something along the lines of "you are terrible", even as he draped one arm over Mokuba's small shoulders.
He was glad for this bit of warmth in his life, even with the challenge of making time for it.