A/n : so this plot bunny has been burning at me. I couldn't help but put it up here, really, though it is also on AO3. I'm going to try and be regular about updates. I hope you enjoy:

Out of the Night that Covers We

Mutou Yuugi four (4) missed calls.

Honda Hiroto one (1) missed call.

Mazaki Anzu two (2) missed calls.

〜(^∇〜)Mokuba ten (10) missed calls

Twelve (12) new voicemails.

It was too early for all the messages piled up on Kaiba's phone. He hadn't even had coffee yet. All but Mokuba's voicemails were deleted, with the plan of listening to them as soon as he reached the office. But there was a slew of text messages underneath that needed attended to first.

Mutou Yuugi - 3:25

I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, Kaiba-kun. Have you listened to my message? It's about

Delete.

Mazaki Anzu - 4:06

I know it's really early there, but you really should answer your phone. Unless Mokuba's already told you what happened.

Delete.

Honda Hiroto - 4:22

Answer the phone Kaiba! This is serious.

Delete.

Why did he even bother keeping their numbers in his phone? Old time's sake? Well, maybe not Yuugi...he was an employee and they discussed work, usually. But the rest of them? They should have been deleted a long time ago, so no one could accuse him of being nostalgic.

Kaiba entered his darkened office before the sun had even risen, flicked the light on and collapsed behind his desk. He pulled his laptop close and booted it up, determined to ignore his phone. Even as he deleted the messages, more kept coming through to replace them, pinging on his phone until the sound became hollow and meaningless. His hand settled over top of the device, pushed it over to the edge of the desk, and thumbed down on the volume button until it deadened to silence.

And then vibrated. And again. And again. Until it threatened to fall off the edge.

A heavy sigh. Kaiba picked up his phone again, thumbing through a string of stream of consciousness texts that Mokuba had been sending him over the last five minutes

.

〜(^∇〜)Mokuba - 5m ago

Why aren't you answering?

Have you at least listened to one of my voicemails?

I know you're not busy.

I checked your schedule, there's no early morning meetings so I guess you just left the house early because?...But you really...really need to listen to everyone's voicemails.

Or at least mine.

I'm sure they're all pretty much saying the same thing, but you really need to hear them. What we all want to tell you shouldn't be said in a text.

But you're gonna make me aren't you?

Seto...

Seto...! :\

Answer, please! I really don't want this to be impersonal...

You already knew didn't you? Is that why you're not saying anything?

Did you listen to the voicemails?

Are you okay?

Answer your phone before I have to call the office.

I won't stop. Seriously. You know I won't. I can do this forever, I've got nothing but time because I'm not coming in today. I already told Ebi-san.

You shouldn't be there either. Work isn't important today.

The screen was never given time to darken before the next text arrived. The phone was squeezed tight between both hands. Never had Kaiba wanted to turn off his phone more than right then, but he wouldn't. Because it was Mokuba. Eventually he would say exactly what he wanted to say, and then Kaiba could give him a more proper response. He seriously doubted that it was more important than work.

Because it involved Jounouchi, if Yuugi's first text was anything to go off of. It couldn't be that important.

A soft knock came to Kaiba's office door. The phone was placed face down. "Enter."

His secretary, Ebi-san, stepped through. He half expected her to say that Mokuba was on the line, or that there were 'important' messages waiting for him from the nerd herd. Yuugi's would have at least been considered important enough to be passed on.

"Good morning, Kaiba-san," she said. She placed a coffee cup, acrid and inviting, on his desk as she did every morning. Finally. Some semblance of normalcy. Kaiba stole it up, inviting the warmth. "Is there anything you need before I go?"

"Have Nakajima set-up for an alpha run of Invictus," Kaiba said, and he took a sip of the coffee. His phone buzzed. A sigh was squashed in his chest.

"Invictus?" Ebi-san arched a brow, mouthing the words in confusion before nodding. "Ahh. Of course. Project Invictus. What time?"

"As soon as we can."

"There's an opening around two this afternoon." she said.

Kaiba added: "Good. Make sure Dr. Usami is called in as well. Give him all relevant details of the project."

"Yes, Kaiba-san. I'll make sure they're all notified." Ebi-san said. Kaiba nodded absently and looked down to his phone. He read through the new text messages in quick succession.

〜(^∇〜)Mokuba - now

Please, Niisama, it's important...

It's about Jou. He's been in an accident. A bad one.

That's as much as I'm telling you. You have to call me back for the rest.

I need to talk to you.

Jou. Accident. Bad. Those were the only words that were popping out at him. Jou. Accident. Bad. Enough that his thumb was hovering over the 'reply' button. Jou. Accident. Bad. The cursor was blinking at him, demanding to be used.

Kaiba closed his eyes as his head swam.

"Is everything okay, Kaiba-san?"

His eyes flicked back up to her, brows furrowed. Ebi-san wasn't the emotional sort, it was why he liked her. She didn't waste time on the trivial details, least of all the condition of her employer. "Fine," he answered, brusque. "Just make sure R and D prepared for a complete test run. Last time they were missing key parts."

"Of course, sir."

Ebi-san bowed her head and left him to his silence, his eyes still skimming over the last few texts until all of the words blurred together into an unreadable mess. His phone dropped onto the desk. His face fell into his palms as he shuddered out a breath.

It had been two years.

Two years since Kaiba had managed to keep everyone from saying a word to him about Jounouchi Katsuya. Two years since he had argued with Mokuba, forbidding his little brother the utterance of the name in his presence. Two years since he had moved on from a messy and public break-up.

He picked up the phone, again, and flicked to Mokuba's contact, staring at the picture Mokuba had chosen for him. A smiling image of the brothers sidled together, Mokuba dressed in a cap and gown, displaying his diploma proudly. Another arm was snaked around Mokuba's shoulder, but the rest of the body had been cropped out. Sometimes Kaiba forgot how Mokuba left little reminders for him.

He tapped the contact to call Mokuba, the phone pressed to his ear.

Jou. Accident. Bad.

Those words had pulled him right back in.

"Just got ahold of Shizuka," Honda said. He swept back into the waiting room, three Styrofoam cups balanced in hand. One was deposited to Yuugi. Honda dropped into a seat opposite of Yuugi, beside Mokuba. A Styrofoam cup was offered to the younger Kaiba who still stared down at his phone, scrolling through the stream of messages that he had sent Seto. All were tagged with 'read'.

"That's good to hear," Yuugi said. "How long until she's here?"

"Said she should take like two hours," Honda replied.

"You tell her I coulda sent someone to grab her?" Mokuba asked, finally reacting. He took the offered Styrofoam cup, murmuring thanks. "A helicopter could get her here faster."

Honda shrugged. "I did. She was already crying. Prolly wants the time to process."

Mokuba sighed. "Yeah. I guess. What about Anzu?"

"She said she might not make it until tomorrow. She has a show tonight, but she's booked the next flight back," Yuugi replied. Mokuba nodded. "You get ahold of Kaiba-kun yet?"

"He's ignoring me," Mokuba replied.

Honda clapped on Mokuba's shoulder, squeezing it in encouragement. "Don't expect miracles, kid."

Mokuba snorted. Twenty-one years old and everyone still called him 'kid'. Any other time, he would have harassed Honda, and endless joke that persisted in the group despite Mokuba towering over almost all of them. Except for Jounouchi. But for now, he accepted it with a sad smile, wanting to be small again. Because then maybe Seto would take all his texts a little more seriously.

"Maybe I should tell him it's my fault," Mokuba said.

Honda shook his head. "Its not your fault."

"It might as well be," Mokuba shot back. "He was with me!"

Pulling his feet up into the chair, Mokuba buried his face into his knees, biting into the fabric of his jeans.

"Mokuba..." Yuugi's softer voice drew Mokuba's head up, his eyes wavering, dangerous and scared, over the edges of his knees. "It's not your fault, really. Accidents happen."

"Not to me."

"You couldn't have predicted this," Yuugi said.

Mokuba's forehead buried back into his knees, not accepting such a simple reasoning. It didn't feel that simple. Accidents didn't happen to him, or the people that he knew. There was always an ulterior motive. Someone always had a reason to try and hurt him or Seto. Why should Jounouchi have been spared? It wasn't so long ago that he was practically family.

Smaller hands were on his shoulders. Yuugi hovered over him, offering a reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay. Jou's in good hands, right?"

Mokuba nodded. "The best."

"Alright. Then focus on that, okay?"

Another nod, weaker. It didn't change the fact that he still thought it was his fault, but the least he could do for Jou was give him the absolute best care that was available. Money stretched a far way in that regard.

Lifting back up, wiping the flecks of tears in the corners of his eyes, Mokuba let out a breath he'd been holding in for far too long. All they could do now was wait, Mokuba staring at the doors that led into the trauma bay. Where was Jounouchi now, he asked himself. Still in emergency, or headed to surgery? The triage nurse was tight-lipped, no matter how much weight Mokuba tried to throw around. Maybe it was for the best. As much as he wanted to know about how Jounouchi was doing, he was already nauseated at the recollection of what had happened. He could still hear the sickened 'crack' as the car zoomed through the crosswalk without any signs of stopping. He could still see the way that Jounouchi landed, face-down and rag-dolled, nothing but a mess of limbs that curled up as the car screeched, fish-tailing around a corner.

"Mokuba?" His eyes snapped opened. Yuugi was staring at him. "Your phone's ringing."

Looking down at his phone, Mokuba wasn't sure whether to smile or quiver in fear. 'Seto' flashed across the screen, the familiar ringtone looping.

Standing up, Mokuba began to drift towards the exit as he answered. "Niisama?"

"What's going on?" Seto asked.

"Something happened last night," Mokuba said. "Jou and I were...we were heading out, you know just to do stuff. Meet up with everyone and I...well I just, I took my eyes off of him for a second. We were crossing the street...and he, he..."

"Mokuba, breathe. Calm down. Tell me what happened."

Mokuba sucked a breath in through his nose. Shuddered it out his mouth. "Jou met me at my apartment last night. Me, him, and Honda were all planning on heading out, maybe meet up with Ryou, just have a night. Grab drinks. Something, I don't really remember. I know I called a car just in case, and we were heading over to it. It had parked on the other side of the street, I thought it was weird, but Tsuneo was waiting outside for us so...we just went to cross and...there was this car..."

"Are you alright?" Seto interrupted.

"Huh?"

"Were you hit?" Seto asked. Mokuba shook his head. Maybe he hadn't actually read all of the texts. "Mokuba? Are you hurt?"

"No, no. Not me, Niisama. Jou. The car hit Jou and just took off." Mokuba said it so fast that he wasn't even sure what he said. He paused, waiting for his brother to respond. He could hear Seto breathing, that was a good sign. He hadn't hung up yet. "Seto?"

"Jou was in a hit and run?"

"Yes."

"But you weren't hurt?"

"No. I must've turned around or something. I don't know. One minute he was ahead of me, the next he was on the ground."

"I see," Seto sighed. "What's his condition?"

"I don't know," Mokuba said. He wasn't sure how many times he had said that now. "The doctors won't tell me anything. I just know he's probably been in surgery for a few hours now."

"You're staying at the hospital then?"

Mokuba nodded, then stopped himself. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna stay here. Yuugi's here, so's Honda. Shizuka's on her way..." Mokuba said. Anzu was to, but that would take a while. "Are you going to come by?"

"I hadn't planned on it."

"But Niisama—"

"I don't have time to be waiting around. There's things that need attended to here, especially since you're going to be absent."

Mokuba sighed. "Like what?"

"The fiscal quarter wrapped up last week, so now we have to focus on the fall quarter, figure out the plan for that, I'm going to have to meet with Iwami in your stead at eleven to go over the details of the subsidy," Mokuba recalled that meeting. He was supposed to head it, not Seto. "And I'm going to be monitoring the alpha test of Invictus at two."

"Invictus? That stupid brain-to-brain VR project? I thought you dumped that."

"It's been on hiatus, yes, but—"

"So you're just stalling?" Mokuba accused. "You just don't want to come here. Are you really still that bitter at Jou?"

"Mokuba, I don't want to start this with you right now," Kaiba said, his voice dipping into a growl. "My presence there will change nothing."

"That's not the point," Mokuba replied. "Jou needs you."

"Needs me? Don't be ridiculous. What he needs is medical care, which I'm sure you've planned to foot the bill for," Seto said. Acid dripped from his accusation. Mokuba flinched, his fist clenching and shaking at his side.

"He's going to need you."

Seto laughed. "He didn't need me two years ago, and he doesn't need me now. And you know it. I'm happy to know you're alright, but that's all I'm concerned about."

A dark question entered Mokuba's mind. An ultimatum that he didn't want to ask Seto, but the executive was being stubborn. Mokuba choked back tears. "...what...what if..."

"No, Mokuba."

"What if he doesn't make it?" Mokuba asked, summoning all of his courage, the words tearing out of his throat before he had a chance to reconsider them. His hand covered his mouth.

There was a pause, and Mokuba was sure he heard something like Seto clearing his throat. But the pause was noticeable enough for Mokuba to know that his brother was, at the very, thinking about the question.

"...this conversation is over. Call me when you get home safely."

The line died, and Mokuba dropped the phone by his side, trembling. Pushing off the wall, rubbing his sleeve at his cheeks, he trekked back slowly, dragging his feet until he made it back into the stale waiting room. It had grown a little bit darker, he was sure of it. He fell back into the seat by Honda, burying his hands between his knees.

"What did Kaiba-kun say?" Yuugi asked.

"He's happy I'm okay," Mokuba said. His chin lifted off of his chest. "And that's about it."

Honda clicked his tongue against his cheek, and went to say something, though Yuugi was shaking his head to stop the the brunet. Honda's jaw clicked shut, and he side-eyed Mokuba. The grey eyes may have been poised towards Yuugi, but they were wholly absent, reflecting back the bland rows of waiting room chairs, catching a glimpse of the people that would stroll by.

"He'll come around," said Yuugi. "I'm sure he still cares about Jou, he just needs a little time to...process."

Mokuba's head dropped to his chest again.

The core of the Research and Development team stood behind thick paned glass, staring into the rounded, sterile chamber. Inside was a simple set up: two chairs, reclined and sat back to back to one another. Wires sprouted from the base of each chair, leading several feet away to the left and feeding into a long panel of computers manned by two of the senior most technicians. On the right side were two tables, different machines being set up in careful order by a man who had 'Usami Daigo, M.D.' hanging off of his badge.

The door slid open, and the technicians looked up, bowing as Kaiba entered, Isono in short step beside. They moved aside as Kaiba strode up to them. "I'm assuming you have the headset, Kaiba-sama?" The technician, Nakajima, asked.

"Of course," Kaiba replied. He used a nearby chair to set his briefcase on, opening it up to reveal the piece before slipping it onto his ear. "It should be close enough to calibrate."

Nakajima turned away and started typing away as Kaiba pressed a button on the headpiece, catching the side of it glow lightly in his peripheral. "Syncing is complete. Seems to be stable."

"For now," Kaiba replied. Terse laughter came from the other technician.

"What sparked interest in Invictus again, if I may ask?" Nakajima said.

A laptop also came out of the briefcase, and it was balanced on the edge of the computer panel. The technicians edged out of the way as Kaiba took his place, connecting the laptop to a port in the computer panel. "I've been working on new code. The only problem we were having last time was the neural mapping."

"Understandably. Keeping the computer moving as fast as a human brain, second for second...I mean, it can think that fast, but not necessarily in real time like you and Mokuba imagined."

Kaiba backed away as the program began to load into the rest of the network. "It needs to tap into the subconscious." Kaiba said.

"I'm sorry?" Nakajima asked.

"It needs to have a full map of the brain, and if it wants to keep up the relay or another player, it needs to tap into the subconscious. Think before we think."

Nakajima furrowed his brows and shot a glance over to the doctor who was still fiddling about, turning dials on several of the machines. "Do you mean memories, Kaiba-sama?"

"Something like that," Kaiba said. He rounded over to the chair and sat into it, pulling his legs up and crossing his ankles. The top buttons of his dress shirt were undone as the doctor placed several stickers on him.

"I don't think that's possible," the technician replied.

"I've already had an AI capable of simulate entire rooms and construct people specifically from my memories," Kaiba replied. "Finding a way to create a bridge to the subconscious, to find a way to explore, and learn, and enjoying a dream or someone else's more lucidly, shouldn't be much more difficult."

"But that is just your mind, sir. You worked on that for months...and it was much less sensitive with cards! They can be loaded into a databank, memories aren't necessarily required. Much less the subconscious!"

"Mind your tongue, Nakajima-san," Isono interjected.

Rolling his head over to the doctor, seeing where his heart rate was showing on the screen, Kaiba nodded, satisfied. Nakajima realised that his employer was hardly listening to his arguments anyways, even if he was being reprimanded by the faithful suit.

"Start running the program, Nakajima. I've already constructed a simulated mind to relay mine against," Kaiba ordered. The man grumbled, and Kaiba was sure he heard something akin to 'all of this for a video game'...

A needle pricked into Kaiba's arm, his fist clenching in reflex. A bead of blood was wiped away.

"You'll be in conscious sedation," Usami said. "We'll be able to wake you if the test becomes dangerous."

Though the words were heard and processed, Kaiba could already feel his eyes drooping, his breathing evening out but lessening. His body relaxed into the chair, head lulling back. A single sticker was placed under his bangs, against his temple, though he didn't even flinch to the touch. His eyes closed.

"...vitals stable...brain waves are regular...REM sleep..."

It was a distinct floating feeling, Kaiba's body washed in a soft wave of water, lapping up over his calves, up his thighs. His eyes opened up, and the distance was a blurry horizon line. The ocean went on as far as the eyes could see. As he turned to look around, the edges were frayed, rounded, unfinished.

"Incomplete..."Kaiba said to himself. But he could feel his trousers sticking against his calves, a very distinct and uncomfortable sensation. Sand itched against his back. He reached back, patting it away. "That's right...Mokuba uploaded a beach memory."

"Niisama!"

Across the way, far against the less detailed background, Mokuba, no older than thirteen and dressed in his swim trunks, waved at him. He was knelt beside a sand castle, returning to molding it in his hands. But he wasn't alone.

Jounouchi sat across from him, a colorful beach towel draped over top of his head, a green pail stuck between his folded legs, patting away and packing sand against the edges. His head lifted up, and he waved, the shovel still in his hand. The bucket was overturned, set beside Mokuba's monstrous castle, and lifted up with precise ease. The new addition to the castle didn't crumble.

Kaiba walked towards the memory with hesitation, but each step became heavier. His feet were sinking into the sand until he was ankle deep, legs unable to pull upwards no matter how much force he drove into his knees.

"...heart rate is up..."

Whipping back, Kaiba's eyes widened to the darkened road behind him. It wasn't the beach anymore. No. He recognised this tight road in Domino. He'd driven down it too many times not to know. It was the road that lead by Mokuba's apartment.

The images were much clearer, much sharper. Each outline of the skyscrapers in the background. The glisten of KaibaCorp Tower in the distance. He turned back around, hoping to be met with the pleasant scene of Mokuba still playing in the sand.

No. Everything had morphed away. The rest of the street stretched before him, dipping into the horizon. Cars drove by, their lights blaring, their tires splashing up puddles. "Mokuba?" Kaiba called out. It stood to reason that Mokuba would be lingering around his apartment.

Approaching the building, Kaiba wondered if his mind would be able to take him all the to the top floor, to where his little brother lived. He wondered how much of the building he remembered in detail. He had to admit, compared to the beach scene, this vision was much more exciting. This was exactly what he was imagining when he had first formulated this project.

Sliding his hand against the cool plastic chassis of a car parked on along the street, he approached the building with confidence, continually looking around to see just how crisp everything was. The rhythmic clicking of the crosswalk signal as it counted down, The fresh bread he could smell wafting from on the bakery a block up. The balmy wetness of the air after a fresh rain.

"Seto!" Kaiba's ears perked up to the sound of his name. His eyes widened to the sight of the blond across the street from him, standing on the corner and staring at the crosswalk signal. It flipped from 'stop' to 'go'.

"Katsuya," he whispered. Jounouchi seemed in a hurry run across the street, laughter trailing behind him. Becoming louder. Much louder than it should have. The sounds began to crescendo, loud and distorted. He was sure that he could hear things that has no place in this place. The sound of glass shattering broke through the cacophony.

Kaiba's hands covered his ears and his head shook. Jounouchi was still running towards him, arms open. A large shard of glass, covered in stars, reflecting the crescent of the moon, came crashing down in front of the blond. Kaiba's eyes snapped closed, and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to refocus on some other memory. Some other time. Some other place.

When he opened them again, the space was blank, the darkness never-ending. A single spotlight just a few paces ahead of him. Shards of the sky were scattered all over the floor, glass crunching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Tentatively he walked forward. Something was laying in the centre of the light.

"...brain waves...erratic. Heart...spiking...Kaiba-sama...!"

Jounouchi laid on his back in the center of the light, his head turned away, arms rested on his stomach. One of his legs was turned in the wrong direction. As Kaiba reached the edge of the light, he could see blood pooling, expanding towards him. He took a step back to avoid it, snapping his gaze back up Jounouchi. His head had turned to Kaiba, showing off a face cheeks, blood dripping from his nose. He sported a crooked smile.

"Katsuya?"

"Seto..." Jounouchi moaned.

"No." Kaiba shook his head and took another step back. The blood pool seemed to follow him. "No."

"I need you,..."

Kaiba's eyes squeezed closed. This dream could be changed. He just needed to focus. Focus on something else. Focus on work! His office! All he needed was to think about his desk, all the details of it. The papers. The calendar. The laptop.

"Kaiba-sama!"

Kaiba's eyes snapped open, his breath quickened against a heavy chest. Sweat trickled down his face. He tried to move and push himself up, but was pushed back a heavy pair of hands. He writhed beneath them. A light was flashed in his eyes and he blinked several times.

"Sir...? Are you alright?"

The room was bright, rounded. Usami and Nakajima leaned over him, their faces soured but concerned. Kaiba jolted upright, his head spinning. The headset was thrown off and landed between his knees.

"Why did you pull me out!" Kaiba demanded, his voice slurring.

"Your vitals were erratic, sir, we had no choice."

"Unacceptable! Recalibrate it, we'll run it again." Kaiba lifted up off the chair, pulling the stickers of the heart monitor with it. His feet hit the ground, but his knees didn't lift, pulling his down almost the same as his feet sinking into the sand.

Isono caught him, pulling him upright and leading him to back down. "Careful, Seto-sama."

"Where's my phone?" Kaiba asked. As he closed his eyes, the image of Jounouchi's bloodied face, crooked smile, flashed before him. "Isono."

"I have it."

Kaiba clutched it between his hands, flicking to the wall of text Mokuba had sent him hours before. His stomach turned as he began to type.

Four hours, five hours, six hours. No news. Mokuba's insistent asking for any kind of details hadn't rubbed them the right way. He was far too abrasive, and growing worse. They'd stopped answering him altogether.

Pacing around the waiting room, tossing his phone between his hands, Mokuba glanced to Shizuka, leaned up against Honda's shoulder while he consoled her. Yuugi had left, grabbing lunch for everyone even though everyone had said they weren't hungry. They needed to eat something.

Mokuba came to a sudden stop, his phone vibrating against his hand. He turned it over.

His eyes widened to a text.

Seto (¬_¬)

Send me status updates.

For the first time in hours, Mokuba smiled.

A/N: I'm going to try and post weekly. Maybe every Tuesday? We'll see!

in the meanwhile, I hope it's not too confusing of a premise? Til next time, KenSan out!