This section is a bit more comfortable for me. At least it starts that way. Because it's here that we start to see glimpses of a familiar Seto. A Seto that we can admire. The thing about it is, though, that it took something of this magnitude to bring it out of him.
Seto's original incarnation is a sociopath. I'm almost sure of it. Now, what marks the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath is that the former can't bond with people. It's just not in them; they aren't wired that way. A sociopath CAN form bonds with certain people, like family. Remember how Dexter is "fond" of his sister? Like that.
I think that's what we're dealing with, in the manga universe.
Which is . . . more than a little sad.
.
"We're taking a personal day."
Isono gave Kaiba a strange look, but didn't comment. When Kaiba said, "Come on, Mokuba, stand up," the boy didn't respond at all, neither vocally nor physically. He remained silent and shaking in his brother's arms. As insufferable as Mokuba was at times, Isono couldn't help but feel sorry for him; whatever had happened to the poor boy, it had obviously traumatized him.
The fact that the Kaibas had once been close—in spite of whatever convoluted mass of codependence and passive aggression their relationship had become—was betrayed by the fact that Kaiba lifted his brother with graceful, familiar ease as he rose to his feet. He'd once done this regularly, holding his brother like this. He'd once been a guardian.
Isono followed his employers out of the building; workers were beginning to filter inside to start their shifts, and they tried to be discreet as they stared at their vice-president, lying half-comatose over Kaiba-shachou's shoulder and staring at the floor like it was a window straight into hell. If Kaiba had been in any mood to be vindictive, he would have seen their staring and snarled at them like a wild animal; as it was, he seemed so far beyond unconcerned that they may as well have been particularly colorful ghosts. The only time he reacted at all was when a member of the cleaning staff closed a door by kicking it with a bang. The sudden clanging sound prompted a short, stifled yelp of surprise from Mokuba.
The elder Kaiba didn't respond in words; he merely leveled a horrific glare on the man that sent him scrambling down the hallway in the opposite direction. He hadn't even thought to say he was sorry—which, Isono mused, would probably end up saving his job.
Kaiba Seto seemed to find apologies offensive.
He hadn't taken his limousine to the office this morning, so Kaiba ended up sitting his brother into the backseat of his personal vehicle: a sleek, metallic-blue sports car. He clicked Mokuba's seat belt into place, when Mokuba still wouldn't move. This was particularly odd, and sent up several red flags for Isono. Mokuba was at that age, just on the cusp of puberty, when he despised having things done for him. Even though he was rich, and even though he had grown used to a royal lifestyle—wherein he was not only allowed but expected to focus his mind purely on "higher" pursuits—he nonetheless hated being treated like a child. The idea of his brother buckling him into the car should have been mortifying.
Mokuba didn't seem to realize that he was in a car.
Kaiba shut the door—firmly but carefully—and turned his attention on Isono. He stepped forward so that their faces were a mere inch apart. "Listen to me, Isono, and listen well: I want him found."
"You think Normack is responsible for this," Isono said. It wasn't a question.
"What are you, thick? Of course Normack is responsible for this. Find him. Alive."
"Should I call the police?"
". . . No. I don't want law enforcement involved in this. Find other avenues if you have to. But bring Cecil Normack to me. Consider that your only assignment as of right now."
Isono nodded. "Understood."
He watched the Kaibas drive home, and wondered how long it would be before he was ordered to hide a corpse.
Or make one.