Chapter Three
Jou closed the back of the truck, wiggling his fingers in his gloves. It was only the third of November, but it was freezing outside, the sky heavy with the promise of rain, leaves coating the sidewalks and streets as the wind whipped them from branches. He was uptown finishing a job with Dell, the last of the tools in the truck, office buildings arched above him before opening to a darkening sky.
It had taken the entire day to replace the corroded pipes in the deli they'd been working in, and he could still smell the rank of mildew from the recent flood damage as he climbed into the truck. He leaned over to start the ignition before burying further into his coat. It took a minute for the heat to kick in, but after a few minutes, the cabin had warmed, weighing down his eyelids as he slumped back against the seat.
The song on the radio ended, the DJ running through traffic updates before segueing into a spiel on the ticket details for the upcoming Kaiba Corp tournament in the spring. Jou leaned forward, punching the button to switch the station. As Yugi had predicted, his invitation to compete had been sitting in his mailbox when he'd gotten home, and it had taken all of his force of will not to toss the thing into the trash.
The entire mess with Kaiba had started because of the asshole's last stupid tournament; and as much as he needed the money, he couldn't stand the idea of returning to the same arena, pretending like nothing had changed. He'd shoved the invite into the junk drawer, intending to bring it up the next time Kaiba showed up, but he hadn't seen him in weeks, the cardstock gathering dust under the mound of takeout menus he'd buried it under.
The door to the truck opened, letting in a cold burst of air as the overhead light flickered to life, before Dell hauled himself inside, slamming it behind him.
"Cold as anything out there," Dell said. He was a big guy, a few inches shorter than him, but almost thirty pounds heavier. He had a thick, dark beard and eyebrows, and a scar that cut across forehead, a gift from a pipe that had conked him in the head when he'd inherited the business from his father ten years earlier.
Dell stuffed a stack of the job papers into a folder, shoving it in the space between their seats before he shifted the truck into gear, interior lights dimming as he pulled out onto the street. "You want me to drop you off at your mom's?"
Jou shook his head. "Shizuka's got some school thing tonight," he said. "Something about scholarships for college." Their usual Wednesday night dinner would have to wait until the weekend, though something told him his mother wouldn't miss her usual tightlipped inspection of him at the door as Shizuka shuffled to get her things so they could leave.
"Home then?" Dell said, slowing for a red light. The traffic was backed up down the block, rush-hour just beginning as the sidewalks and streets filled with people on their way home.
"The shop is fine," Jou said.
Dell only shook his head as he hit the blinker. No matter how many times he said no, he kept offering. Dell had kids, a family, who lived in the opposite direction of south side, and making the loop to drop him off at his apartment only tacked on another twenty minutes to his already long commute.
Someone blew on their horn up ahead, and Dell leaned over, turning up the radio. The brake lights were heavy in front of them, and Jou stared out the window, watching the people on the sidewalk, the majority dressed in business clothes as the workday came to a close. The light in front of them had just turned green when he spotted Mokuba.
The youngest Kaiba brother had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, slumped against the wall of a high rise of condos, his hood up against the breeze. He flicked the ash on the sidewalk before taking a long draw and exhaling, the smoke white before dissipating in a gust of air.
It's none of your business. He turned back to the windshield, willing the cars in front of them to move out of the damn way. The traffic was still stalled at the next light, and Jou sent another a quick glance at the kid. What are you doing all the way up here? The Kaiba mansion was outside of the west side of the city, a good thirty minute haul from uptown. He drummed his fingers on the seat, watching the kid blow another screen of smoke.
God dammit.
Jou unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching for the door handle as the car beside of them began to move. "Actually, you can just drop me here," he said. He opened the door, sliding out onto the pavement as someone laid on the horn behind them. Dell was frowning at him, eyebrow raised. "I forgot I have to do something uptown. I'll just catch you tomorrow, okay?"
He didn't hear Dell's response as he shut the door behind him, darting across the street and earning another montage of horns before reaching the sidewalk. Mokuba was watching him as he crossed the concrete, frowning as he exhaled another breath of smoke.
"Hey," Jou said. He leaned on the wall next to him, the brick freezing even through his coat. He shoved his hands in his pockets, already mourning the loss of the truck's heat. "What's up?"
"Just standing here," Mokuba said.
"It's freezing outside," Jou said.
"So?"
"So aren't you cold?"
Mokuba shrugged. "Can't smoke inside."
"Pretty sure you can't smoke anywhere," Jou said. "You're a kid."
Another shrug.
"There a reason you're hanging out up here?" Jou said.
"There a reason you're suddenly so interested in what I do?" Mokuba said. He narrowed his eyes at him, tossing the cigarette on the ground and snuffing it with the heel of his sneaker. "Seto lives here."
Jou turned towards him, confused. "I thought you lived in that big ass mansion towards west side."
"I do," Mokuba said.
"So why are you here?"
Mokuba scowled. "Seto lives here," he repeated
"Your brother has you living on your own?"
"There's been some board changeover the past few months, and he's had to work more than usual," Mokuba said. "It doesn't really make sense for him to drive all the way home every night. It's not like I would see him. He'd be home and gone before I even woke up."
Jou frowned. "How long have you been on your own?"
"Two months, I guess," Mokuba said. He pulled out a carton from the pocket of his hoodie, shaking out another cigarette. "Since school started back up."
"You seriously going to light that in front of me?" Jou said. He narrowed his eyes, but the kid looked unimpressed as he raised the cigarette to his mouth, lighter flaring to life.
"You're not in charge of me," Mokuba said. He took a long drag, glancing towards the street. "I don't know why you're even here."
You and me both, kid. "Your brother know you're down here?" Jou said. Kaiba was a cold bastard, but he'd always had a soft spot for Mokuba. If he knew he was outside in the cold, chain smoking, he'd be hauling his ass back inside.
"He's not home," Mokuba said.
"Well is he coming home soon?"
The kid shrugged.
Jou slumped back against the building – dealing with Mokuba Kaiba was as exhausting as dealing with his older brother. "So you're going to stand out here all night waiting for him?"
"I have a key," Mokuba said, rolling his eyes.
"You planning on using it?" Jou said. "Or you just planning on spending another ten minutes killing your lungs?"
Mokuba turned, squinting up at him. "What's your problem?"
"My problem?" Jou said, glaring down at him. "My problem is your acting like an idiot, and apparently, no one, including your brother, is stepping in to stop it."
"It's none of your business what I do," Mokuba said. "You don't even know me. You don't know my brother. You don't know anything." He squared his shoulders, turning back towards the street. "Just leave me alone."
Jou let out a long breath. The kid didn't want his help, and he was right – it was none of his business. He knew that. He knew that even before he'd gotten out of Dell's truck. Hell, he'd known that before he'd even left the apartment that morning.
He glanced over at Mokuba. The kid wasn't his obligation. He was angry and riding the hormone wave of late puberty. It wasn't his place to get involved, but then again it hadn't been Yugi's place to get involved in his life either. Fuck.
Jou sighed. This was a huge mistake. "No."
"No?" Mokuba turned back to face him, incredulous. "Are you deaf? I said get away from me."
"Ain't happening, kid," Jou said. He reached over and plucked the cigarette from the kid's mouth, dropping it on the ground and snuffing it with his shoe. Mokuba's lips were pressed together as he looked down at the remnants before meeting his eyes, hands clenched at his side as if readying himself to throw a punch.
"You may not give a shit about what I think, and that's fine," Jou said. "I'm not your brother, and I sure as hell ain't a role model, but something tells me that you know that this screw the world attitude is bullshit."
"I grew up in one of the worst shitholes in this city," he continued, "and I know a lot about what it means to be pissed off at the world, but trust me when I say that being alone only makes it worse. So if you want to stand here and sulk and smoke your way to an early grave, that's your choice."
"But I'm promising you that eventually you're going to look back and regret making such piss poor choices. You don't have to handle all this shit on your own, Mokuba. There's about a million people in this city, including me, who can help. All you gotta do is say the word."
The kid looked at him for a long beat, a gust of wind blowing past them, resituating a few dying embers of the cigarette smashed on the concrete. Come on, kid – say something. But Mokuba was silent as turned on his heel, shoulders hunched as he stalked down the street, passing the condos and disappearing around the block without another word.
