Seto awoke in the middle of the night to find he'd drifted off in his clothes, on top of the covers on his bed. But he felt more concerned that he had left his bedroom door not only unlocked, but wide open. He couldn't trust the other member of his house.
He couldn't pinpoint the exact reason he felt unsafe leaving his door unlocked while he slept, but even since Seto had seen the newsreel, he hadn't had a waking moment's relief from the looming feeling of dread. Something strange was happening in his life, and nothing strange that happened to him was ever small.
Seto stood up, straightened his clothes, and lightly tread out of his room. He stopped in the hallway, hearing a faint trace of repetitive music from behind his brother's closed door. He recognized the music as the menu screen of a video game Mokuba hadn't played in years.
Hearing the music wasn't enough to know whether Mokuba was still in his room or not, and Seto had a strong desire to know where the child was before he could go back to sleep. Walking as lightly as he could without needing to tip-toe, he wandered into the main area of the house.
Seto always liked his offices, shut in and private from all sides, so he hadn't really approved of the living area's openness in the blueprints when he and Mokuba had designed their vacation house. But now that he was trying to find the child, he appreciated the ability to see into the living room, dining room, kitchen, and even out onto the patio, with one sweeping glance. Instead of walls, strategically placed furniture and counters separated the space of each room.
Satisfied that the main house was empty, Seto relaxed into believing that Mokuba had fallen asleep in his bed with his television on.
He found himself a chilled bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank half of it in a few long swigs.
He ventured to the glass patio doors which overlooked the beach, taking a few moments to enjoy the moonlit calm of the night—as well as he could enjoy anything in the moment. The sea gently lapped at the edges of the beach, the crashing of the waves just faintly audible across the sand and through the closed glass doors.
He turned from the patio and as he passed through the kitchen on his way back to the hall, he noticed a few dark shapes on the kitchen counter. Leaning in closer to inspect, he realized the shapes were open boxes of crackers and chips scattered across the counter top. Beside them sat a container of juice with its cap missing.
"Mokuba knows better," he muttered with a scoff, shoving the containers aside, although he didn't put them away. It was such a small matter, but something about it unsettled him.
He carried his water bottle with him as he returned to his room. He made sure to lock the door behind him this time, and readied himself for bed.
As rays of gentle sunlight danced through a crack in the drapes, Seto lay in bed on the fringes of waking and sleep, and trying not to give in to consciousness and his sea of unwanted thoughts. The faint sound of a car door slamming roused him from any notions of getting more sleep.
He sat up, blinking through the sunlight. His bedroom window overlooked the beach rather than the front driveway, so he threw on a shirt and jeans and scurried into the living area.
On the wall opposite the patio doors was the beach house's rarely used front door, a set of decorative blinds perpetually closed over its large glass window. Seto peered through to see, as promised, Leon von Schroeder standing at the end of the long driveway, waving at a taxi as it pulled away.
Seto ventured outside to meet him before he could knock.
"Good to see you again," Leon chirped. He slung a well-loved leather backpack over one shoulder.
Seto nodded as a greeting, but his expression was vacant.
"You don't have any bags?" he asked.
"I've already unpacked in my hotel room. I wasn't going to assume you were putting me up."
"It wouldn't have mattered."
Leon shrugged. "My brother's writing this whole trip off as a business expense. Although, he is expecting me to return with some files and contracts? He said you would know what he means."
"Fine. I'll have them ready for you," he said, gland he had already re-worked them.
Seto led Leon up the driveway, though he dispensed with any further formalities.
"I have a request from you while you're here," he said over his shoulder. "I need you to monitor my brother."
"So he is alright?" Leon asked hopefully.
Seto didn't address the question. "Note his behavior, as specific as his tone and word choice, his expressions and any other body language that strikes you as odd, or… unfitting."
"…Alright," Leon hesitated. "But why?"
"If I tell you why, then your assistance will no longer be useful. I want you to compartmentalize any information if you find something that seems out of place for him. Take notes if you have to."
"Is he alright?"
"Physically he seems to be recovering just fine. But I want someone around who has known my brother well, and has paid attention to him at the kind of social level that I do."
Leon stopped in front of the door as Seto held it open.
"That's why you asked me here?"
"If you need to get creative trying to explain to your brother how this can be considered a business meeting, I won't mind."
He led Leon inside, and Seto gestured to the hallway where the brothers resided.
"His room is on the left."
Seto ventured into the living room, where he looked on, craning his neck to watch the exchange as Leon knocked on Mokuba's bedroom door.
Mokuba blinked at Leon, and Seto wondered if he was struggling to recognize his friend. But a brief moment passed and a grin spread over Mokuba's face. He clapped Leon with a high-five that turned into a hearty handshake that Seto would never let pass at a formal business meeting.
"How are you feeling?" Leon asked.
Mokuba shrugged. Seto noticed him glance briefly in his direction, but Seto refused to look away or pretend he wasn't trying to overhear the exchange.
"Achy." He gestured to his cheek. "A little torn up. But I'm okay."
Leon let out a loud sigh and pulled Mokuba into a tight, friendly hug, though it only lasted a few seconds.
"What are you doing here?" Mokuba asked, pulling away.
"I called Kaiba Corp and got your brother. I invited myself. I needed to see if you were alright. I wasn't getting any information from the news."
"Seto's not letting the media see me right now," Mokuba said in a low voice.
"Why?"
Mokuba stole another glance at Seto, who continued to watch the pair openly. He glanced over his shoulder into his bedroom, then waved Leon inside.
Feeling irritated, Seto thought quickly. He called out to Mokuba, who stopped, still in the doorway.
"I expected better hospitality than that. Shouldn't you offer your guest something to eat? You haven't had breakfast, either."
Mokuba stared at his brother a few long moments. Then he said something too quiet for Seto to hear, and he couldn't tell if it was meant for Leon, or just uttered under his breath. But he stepped out of his room and led Leon into the kitchen.
Leon tried to protest as Mokuba rummaged through the refrigerator, but a sharp glare from Seto shut him up. Mokuba made a simple breakfast for the boys, not bothering to offer Seto anything—though he wouldn't have accepted anyway. They ate together, Leon stealing glances at Seto and trying to force conversation out of Mokuba, but Seto couldn't pinpoint anything out of the ordinary during the meal.
Mokuba refused to speak about Seto's aversion to the media in front of Seto, despite Leon continually—though subtly—steering the conversation back again and again.
"I'd like to show Leon one of my new games in my room, if that's alright," Mokuba said when their plates were cleared.
Seto didn't miss the irritation in his voice.
Was Mokuba angry at him for pushing him away, Seto wondered, or was the imposter retaliating for being called out? Either way, Mokuba made it clear he returned Seto's anger.
"You may," he relented.
He couldn't eavesdrop on the child all day long, but Leon served as his spy. He had to let them have their privacy if he was going to get anything useful out of the visit.
When the two boys had gone into Mokuba's room, Seto settled in at the breakfast bar and started a pot of coffee, but was startled to see that Mokuba had left his plate and empty glass on the counter, while Leon, a guest, had bothered to put his into the dishwasher.
Barely an hour after Leon arrived, Seto watched through a living room window as an old white car pulled into the driveway. Yugi's small frame was at the wheel, the car jammed with all of his friends.
Moments later, Mokuba and Leon left his room, both dressed for swimming. Mokuba poked his head out of the front door and gestured for them to walk around to the beach, and he led Leon through the living room, kitchen, and out the back patio doors.
Mokuba said nothing to Seto as he passed by without a glance in his direction.
Seto, satisfied that Mokuba's team of friends were hard at work keeping him busy, settled in at the desk in his bedroom. He flipped his laptop open, and while waiting for it to boot up he punched a phone number in on the dial pad on the desktop. Pressing the receiver to his ear, he swiveled his chair to see out the window onto the beach.
On only the second ring, the phone call connected.
"Yes, Seto-sama?"
"Isono. Have the media piranhas infiltrated Kaiba Corp Headquarters yet?"
"Ah… No, Sir. The occasional individual reporter has made it as far as the front desk in the lobby, but security is keeping them at bay."
"Good. Speaking of security, has anything out of the ordinary come to your attention?"
"In regard to anything specific?"
"If you need me to specify then you haven't come across anything that would interest me."
"If we detect anything major you will be the first to know."
"That's what I'm asking for."
"Very good. While I have you on the line, Sir, there is one thing I'd like to mention."
"So, mention it."
"I have noticed a few reports going around in the news—not on the front page of any papers, of course—that the young von Schroeder boy has come to Domino as the spokesperson for Schroeder Corp."
"And?"
"The media has caught wind that he's paying you a visit."
Seto sat forward. "Does the media state they know where I am?"
"Not that I have seen. They noted that Leon checked into your hotel early this morning, but it seems that they lost interest after that."
"I should hope so. He took a taxi here. If he was followed, I might have a problem, although I suppose I would know by now if that were the case."
"Is there anything you would like me to do about this situation?"
"I don't see that there's anything you can do. If he was followed, he was followed. I'll have to talk to the media eventually. I would just prefer to have a little time to work the situation out before I'm forced to do so. I suppose there's no point in being concerned about whatever the news is saying about Leon."
"I agree. Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?"
Seto allowed himself to relax into his seat again.
"Not now. Just keep monitoring security and update me if anything changes."
"Yes, Sir."
Seto spun his chair and replaced the receiver. He logged into his laptop to be greeted by the web page he'd left open from the day before. He frowned at the screen and closed his browser. In seeking out his legal options to put any distance between himself and the child, Seto hadn't found any viable solutions.
He was no longer interested in watching the child pretend to play outside his window. He already felt the imposter was too close to him, but he didn't know how to get away.
Unless, Seto realized, I don't have to be the one to leave.
He'd sent Mokuba away once. He could do it again. No one was likely to think twice about it, and he would have a small bit of peace to think.
Without hesitating, Seto picked up the phone again and hit the 'redial' button. Isono answered in just half a ring.
"Yes, Seto-sama?"
"Does Kaiba Corp have any more overseas projects going on?"
"Ah…" Isono hesitated while the clicking of a keyboard sounded in the background. "We have plenty, of course. Were you looking for a specific group?"
"Anything, really, but preferably small projects."
There was another lull, as it seemed that Isono was scanning his screen.
"We do have a research group traveling various areas of global terrain to test the range of the duel satellites."
"That sounds harmless enough. How much access to the KC computer system do the participants need?"
"Quite a bit. Each tester will be given an ID tag that can be used to track their location, and a tablet to access the system in order to input the data they uncover."
"I don't think that's what I'm looking for. What else?"
"We're also sending a few teams of duelists, older teenagers mostly, around the United States on a Duel Disk System tour to promote the newest version."
"Right, that."
The tour had been Mokuba's idea.
"This project is more of a meet-and-greet and show-and-tell, so it doesn't require the participants to have anything more than a duelist's ID and the permission of a parental guardian."
"What kind of security is being assigned to the tour?"
"Each bus will be manned by two security guards."
"This tour wasn't scheduled to start for another few months, was it?"
"That is incorrect. The first tour begins five weeks from yesterday."
Seto fell silent. Five weeks felt like too long a time to buck up and deal with the child he knew he couldn't take care of.
"How long does one tour last?" he asked.
"Each of the participants will be on the road for one month."
Seto considered. Five weeks of waiting for four weeks of peace. It might be enough time for him to come up with something else.
"Mokuba has been in charge of the planning. Sign him up for the first tour. Do you need my signature to verify my permission?"
"I'll have a permission slip ready for you on your desk when you return. Is there… any particular reason you want the boy to join this tour?"
"I don't think he needs to mope around at home too long."
"And you realize, of course, that there will be an airplane trip to send the participants—"
"Of course I am aware of that. Why else do you think I'm sending him? With how often we travel for business, Mokuba would cripple himself by allowing himself to fear flying," Seto said, thinking up the argument on the spot.
"So you're getting him back up on the horse. I see. I do believe the tour is well suited to his strengths of public speaking. Then, if that is your wish, I will take care of the details and get him signed up. Will that be all?"
"For now, yes," Seto conceded and ended the call once more.
Five weeks felt like an eternity away, but if that was all he could come up with, he would have to suffer through.
One last check on the security stream at his front gate told Seto very few of the reporters had given up since the last time he logged in. Frowning, he closed the lid of his laptop and faced the window again, letting the gleaming sunshine warm his face.
If his only remaining move was to bide his time, he would take it for all it was worth.