Seto's POV

I end up dozing off, and I wake up at 8:00. I really don't want to get up, but an object by my doors catches my eye. The newspaper. I get up, take it back to my bed, and read it. The headline makes me want to cry.

KAIBACORP DECLARES RECALL ON ALL HEAVY MACHINERY:

Who is to blame?

It pretty much says that all of the holodecks we used to use sucked, and all of our heavier and bulkier items sucked, and that they tend to break. I don't know how to fix this.

It doesn't matter; I need to get ready for the day. I grab a black vest, blue dress shirt, and black pants and change out of my pajamas. I look at myself in my bathroom mirror and sigh. I've got a meeting at eleven, and I've got to essentially mentally bitchslap the head of the factory that makes the recalled items. Sounds like fun.

I stride out of my room, down the hall and the stairs, and into the dining room. I sit at the head of the table. Drake, Ethan, Mokuba, and the others are just staring and I look up. "What?" I say icily.

"Well, sir," Drake begins. "We thought you'd be angry…"

I stab at a piece of ham from the plate placed in front of me by a server. "I am." I continue to eat like nothing is wrong. It's better to not take my anger out on them.

"Seto," Mokuba says. "You're ok, right?"

I slam down my fork. "I'M FINE." I say forcefully. I realize I've stood partly. I take a deep breath. A vision of Cassandra pops in my head, and I imagine the scent of lavender and soothing smells. I calm down enough to sit.

Everyone at the table exchanges glances, and then continues eating. I glance at my watch. 8:45. I can keep eating, then get to the factory at 9:30. Good, I'm surprisingly ravenous.

At 9 o'clock, I stand. "Drake, could you please have Albert bring the limo around?" I ask, feigning pleasantness. I start to head out the door, but I run back to get my briefcase. It seems to threaten people, and will be helpful for my job ahead.

Mokuba's standing in front of it, though. "Seto, you're not getting to it without telling me what the heck is up with you today." I glare at him and reach to the table in the foyer that has today's newspaper on it. I show it to Mokuba and he slaps it away, taking me by surprise. "No, Seto. This is something more. Usually, you don't try to control your emotions. But today, you did pretty quickly. Why?"

I don't know how to respond, because I honestly don't know either. I just shove him out of the way, grab my briefcase, and say, "Mokuba, maybe I have grown up. You should too."

Mokuba rushes up to me and grabs my collar. The force knocks the briefcase out of my hand. "You listen here, 'Bro,'" he spits out at me. "At 22, I'm pretty well grown. I can handle myself and ask questions if I want. Now let me ask again, what is up with you?" His light blue eyes bore into mine. He's about six inches shorter than me at 5'7", so he's looking up at me, but he's strong, and I have to fight to stand up straight. Maybe he has grown, in more ways than one.

And for the first time in about 16 years, I feel tears in my eyes. I reel back to wipe them away. Mokuba looks at me softly, then just hugs me. I gladly hug back. Sometimes, that's all you need. "Oh Seto, whatever will we do without you?" Mokuba says. We pull back and laugh. I find that Mokuba was tearing up too.

"Mr. Kaiba, sir, the limo is here." Drake appears. I nod and pick up my briefcase. I say goodbye to Mokuba and walk outside to the limo. Inside the car, Drake fills me in on what exactly happened. Something with the faulty metal. It supposedly was the head of the factory's fault, and we're pretty sure it was him who caused it.

Good.

When we arrive at the factory, I waste no time letting myself in. I ask the first person I see where the manager's office is, and they point to a black door. I enter and slam the door behind me. A young, plump face is sitting in the leather office chair behind the desk. He seems to be expecting me.

"EXPLAIN. NOW." I bellow.

"Well, you see, sir, the company we ordered from for metal sent the wrong kind, and the welding made it weak. So, when we put it togeth-" he starts, but I cut him off.

"So you didn't CHECK?! Isn't that your JOB?"

"Well, um…"

"ANSWER ME." I'm getting really fed up now.

"No."

"Then whose job IS IT?!"

"The head of shipping." He is shrinking in his chair.

"Where?" I don't get an answer right away and I yell, "WHERE IS THE HEAD OF SHIPPING LOCATED?!"

"Down the hall, last door on the right-"

I'm already out the door. I also barge into this office and yell, "YOU DIDN'T CHECK?" I slam my hands on his desk and lean in his face.

"Uh…I was…busy." My nostrils flare.

I am shaking with fury. "You mean to tell me, that you cost me about one billion dollars because you were busy. Well, you won't be busy anymore." I straighten.

"W-What do you mean?" he stammers.

"You're jobless…fired." I stalk out of the room, picking up my briefcase in the process, walk down the hall and out the door, into my limo.

"Let's go home, Albert."