Summary: He hated his job.
Mokuba loved the feeling of being on his bike. The rush of speed going straight to his head gave him a type of euphoria that driving a car never could. He was unrestricted by lanes and in full control of his pace. Even a simple ride home could become a profound experience. After getting off of his bike Mokuba was sure that he could do anything.
But today he reminisced.
He missed times in college when he could go out and roam. No class, no work, just taking a stroll under the sky in the middle of the day. He could stop and study outside, weather permitting, or take a walk with someone he liked. There was something about being out and in the open that was invigorating.
It was truly freeing, living without the burden of work and responsibility. To focus on learning and acquiring knowledge almost exclusively made his school years some of the best of his life.
Work at KaibaCorp absorbed copious amounts of energy. Dealing with people who demanded and pushed was draining; it was difficult keeping work at work, and from seeping into other things.
At first he was tempted to just do his work from home. But Mokuba remembered all the nights he'd spent alone as a kid while Seto toiled in his office, only doors away. It was only after he started high school that he realized that Seto didn't have to do work. More often than not, Seto did other people's work, and encouraged him to do the same as well.
That haunting visage of his brother, powerless to his own whims of perfection, kept Mokuba from following the same path.
If he were honest (and he rarely was, concerning this topic) KC wasn't his ideal choice of career. He had the experience for it, and education as of recently, but he just didn't enjoy it. Sure, their technology was versatile. Seto constantly denied rights and turned down collaborations in an effort to avoid slipping into what Gozaboro did - just selling to the highest bidder. And that was ethical, and admirable.
But Mokuba didn't really feel any pride in it.
It wasn't him in the testing room, theorizing methods of light refraction to produce maximum clarity for hologram visuals; it wasn't him correcting issues with coding or issuing patches to fix them. Mokuba loved programming. The sciences were a little more distant to him, but he was always excited to learn new things. He loved theory. But Seto refused to allow him to participate in anything related to research and development. That was work for peons, apparently. They followed orders, they tested and they produced.
Mokuba and his brother were only to step in when someone was fucking up. Because unlike most CEOs, Seto knew what the fuck he was doing.
But that left Mokuba as the man who just pushed the paperwork. He reviewed reports and explanations and made them easier for their clients to digest. Comprehension was fine so long as he didn't do the dirty work himself. He sat with the other representatives and ate dinner with them and pretended to be interested in the endeavors of their companies, when he wasn't even interested in what he was doing for his own. He and his brother spent time learning about the technology that went into their products and never used any of that knowledge except when something wasn't working right and no one else could figure it out.
It was a complete waste. He hated his job.
Someone honked at him. The light was green and he hadn't moved. He revved the engine before kicking off. The sound offered comfort.
You're gonna kill someone. Stop being an idiot.
Above him the sky was orange and his bike reflected it. It was beautiful, and Mokuba decided that this time was something that he could control, and it wouldn't go to waste. He took a short detour down a lesser traveled alley way. A few blocks ahead, he could see tinted foliage lining the block.
Perfect. A park. He could watch his bike, relax in silence and collect himself.
His phone rang out a text notification.
Got plans tonight? It asked him.
Yami, of course. They'd gone out once or twice. At the time Mokuba hadn't realized how often Yami did, in fact, go out. He knew almost every place in a fifteen mile radius from the Game Shop. That was much too often for Mokuba's tastes; he outgrew those habits years ago, but it didn't seem Yami did.
Sorry, I don't feel like going out tonight, he texted back.
Feeling Shitty?
A little.
He wanted to hint at needing the space without completely rejecting the opportunity; the man was a good distraction and it was likely he would want one later.
Fine.
He slipped his phone into his pocket, then stretched and climbed off of LaShonda. The park still had a few families playing around in it, and there were many more in the middle of packing up, or in the process of leaving already. Not too many people kept around after dark. Domino City Park was a bit larger than most, and it could hide quite a few things in the thick foliage when tricky minds were put to work there. There used to be rumors that street gangs met there at night, but Mokuba didn't know if it was true.
Several trails were trod deep into the ground until the grass yielded. They all passed through a children's playground in the first half of the park and disappeared into a small forest of trees. Mokuba picked one at random and just kept walking; he knew the park well enough. It wasn't so big that he would get lost.
His phone rang again. When he flipped it open, it asked him:
Bad day at work?
Mokuba wasn't sure how to answer that. So he didn't. He put the phone back in his pocket instead. The blanket of orange over him faded into a deeper hue; it would be dark sooner than he wanted.
Continuing into a small clearing he saw a silhouette ahead and off to the side. Someone else had the same idea, apparently: a girl with long hair by the looks of it. She stood next to an easel. A few people passed him on the trail, but Mokuba moved closer to her. She had long blond hair.
A foreigner?
He wasn't being secretive, and the grass wasn't tall enough to quiet his steps anyway. She turned when she heard him approach. Mokuba bowed respectfully and kept his distance.
Definitely a foreigner.
He wasn't sure, exactly, how much more she could paint with the light fading. But she hadn't packed up yet, so she was clearly putting some finishing touches. Mokuba tried to make out the sharp shapes on the canvas, but with the shade from the trees in the small glade, no sense could be made of it.
"Excuse me," he proposed, making eye contact, "could I watch?"
To his surprise, she smiled, oval glasses glinting in what was left of the light outside. "Of course you can. It's almost done. I just need a few more minutes." Though her accent was clear, she spoke Japanese well enough.
"What is it?" he asked. Mokuba switched to English in his excitement.
She moved closer to the work itself, hands fiddling with something. Lights suddenly popped to life on her easel, illuminating most of the canvas.
Mokuba immediately recognize the subject of her painting. Those angled shapes, striking blends of violets and reds, offset by a bright blond.
Yami? He gasped, eyes scanning the details.
No. It was a portrait of Yuugi, of all people. The differences were there: his eyes were a softer shape, less intense. Though shadows from the lights were too bright at the base of the painting, Mokuba could see that the angled jaw wasn't set, instead curved by a cheery smile. It was most certainly Yuugi's.
It was a great interpretation of him, honestly.
Mokuba didn't recognize the painter. How does she know him?
"You're American?" she asked in English as well. Mokuba shook his head. "Oh, well. Your English is really good. It's not a breathtaking piece of art," she added, "but I've been thinking a lot about this person lately. You have to admit - as a subject he at least has an interesting hairstyle." A giggle followed.
Maybe she was a fan? Yuugi was a well known duelist. "It—it's nicely done. Whoever it is, he's lucky to have such a talented girl paint him."
"It's still not done," she said. Her voice carried a happy hum and she seemed oblivious to his surprise. "There are some details that I want to add, but there won't be enough light. I'll have to come back tomorrow. I was hoping these would help," she gestured to the lights, "but now that I've seen them in action, I think that they might distort the colors. I don't want to mix the wrong ones. It's been going great so far."
This certainly was a strange girl. Mokuba didn't remember seeing her at the club the other day, and Yuugi hadn't mentioned an American girl at all. Her cheer didn't make this any less off-putting.
"You can't finish it at home?" he asked.
She shook her head and dabbed carefully at Yuugi's eyes with a shade of lavender, brush daring to and fro to highlight his eyes. Mokuba didn't know a lot about the arts, but the color she picked worked well. He watched the tiny glob of paint swirl on the brush, the canvas, and blend in with the other hues.
"I can only paint in the park. It's weird. I feel calm here, though, so I guess it's alright." Shaking her head again, she added. "That's as much as I'll add, I think. I don't trust the light." She looked up at the darkening sky, and suddenly turned towards him. "I'm going to get ready to go, I guess. I'm sorry you came all the way over here and didn't see much."
Mokuba waved it off. "No, I'm sorry I bothered you. I shouldn't have. It was rude of me."
"Don't be silly," she said, and she crouched down to grab a cloth sitting atop a backpack, using it to clear the surface of her palette before slipping it into her bag. "I'm the one being strange."
"Are you going to be back tomorrow?" he asked.
His phone chimed again, and he felt the vibration this time against his leg. The girl's movements stuttered as she noticed it, too, but she continued packing as though it was nothing.
It was Yami again. You can't even answer? Fuck off, it said.
He slipped it back into his pocket without a second thought.
Edited: 12/27/18 - Just did some clean up. There wasn't much to change, but I did take out some unnecessary stuff.
2/26/15 - I made quite a few changes, but none of them affect the content if you're read this already. I broke up some of those chunky paragraphs and described some of the surroundings a little more. Original commentary below.
This is prompt #12.
