Normally, Seto shunned social interaction unless it was absolutely necessary. And even then, he felt awkward and rather
foolish, despite his outward grace and poise. He was skilled at making polite conversation with business associates,
and was quite good at the annoying hand-shaking, dog and pony shows he had to put on to advance his agenda.
He felt rather vulnerable without the social lubricants of wine and the expected politeness, and he seldom ventured
out in public, in part because of his notiority, and also, he never had the time. So, when he was having a particularly
good day, health wise, and Mokuba gently suggested that they enjoy their brief respite by "eating out like normal people,"
Seto only bit his lip and gave Mokuba his begrudging consent, and a solemn promise that Mokuba would not expect him
to eat "that disgusting, greasy garbage unfit for human consumption." Mokuba only grinned at his older brother sadistically, and
gave him a mocking pat. Seto rolled his eyes heavenward, as if asking for strength to navigate the ordeal.
And what an ordeal it was.
Seto had generously, or (perhaps foolishly) allowed Mokuba to pick the place, and did his best to conceal his revulsion at
what he privately considered to be little more than a roach motel. The place itself was a hole in the wall hamburger joint that
Mokuba had discovered in his college days, and it served heaps and heaps of deep-fried things that Mokuba loved, and Seto
loathed. Seto fought the urge to sigh in disgust as Mokuba carefully arranged his older brother's arm over his shoulder so that
Seto could lean on him. Mercifully, he was feeling up to walking tonight, or else he never would submit to appearing in public.
Mokuba had raised an eyebrow at Seto's choice in clothing, as well, but let it pass without comment. In the privacy of his own
home, Seto preferred the comfortable and the practical over the dramatic and powerful, only wearing his dramatic trench coat and
buckles when he made an appearance. Tonight, Seto wore a rather large sweater that swallowed his thin frame in comfortable
warmth and concealed some of his thinning flesh that was his favorite navy blue, over a long-sleeved black tee-shirt. He wore
black cordoroy pants, a slender leather belt, and his most comfortable pair of shoes- a pair of boots that added an inch to his
already towering height, and let his feet feel wonderfully free from the hard, glistening business footwear he was normally forced
to sport. Over all of this, he wore the small silver cross he never took off, and his most casual long coat.
At Mokuba's insistance, they also by-passed the usual Kaiba pomp, and Mokuba drove Seto himself in his own car, instead of
a limo. Mokuba smirked in amusement as Seto eyed the various fast-food wrappers that layered the bottom of the car, and
distainfully lay his heels down the ankle deep mess.
"I'm not even going to ask why you choose to keep your vehical as your personal garbage dump, Mokuba, but it's common courtesy
to make sure that a guest in your car isn't subjected to having Taco Bell smeared on their shoes." Seto muttered in disgust as he
examined the dark mush smeared on his boot heel. Mokuba snorted, eyed the mess doubtfully, and said, "Seto? I don't think that's
even food."
Seto's lip curled, but he crossed his arms, worked the seatbelt, and said nothing more, but a curt, "Whatever the hell it is, Mokuba,
it's disgusting. Now,kindly get the show on the road, please."
Mokuba halted the keys, to turn and stare at Seto in worry. Seto was making a masterful effort to regain his 'old and cold'
arrogant facade, and Mokuba just grinned to see Seto rise to his full height and lose that tense, wary slouch. Seto
graced his brother with a smug little smirk, and Mokuba only chuckled softly, "Seto, don't worry. You still have it,
big brother."
Seto gave him a wan, gentle smile, in complete contrast to his harsh mask he had just worn. "Of course I do, Mokuba.
I just don't know if it's worth the fight to keep it."
Mokuba quirked an eyebrow at that statement, and Seto only shrugged it off with a grunt. "Come on, Mokuba. Onward to the
grease pit."
Seto's mood had darkened considerably when they pulled into the parking lot, and they saw the swarming crowd of people.
Seto stiffened as if afraid, but then shrugged it off, forcing himself to rise from the car. With a jerk from his sharp chin towards
the restuarant, Seto strode forward, shoving his fingers into his coat pockets grimly, and not waiting for Mokuba. It was a lingering
reminder for Mokuba of how much power Seto still retained, as he began his unflinching glide towards the door. And since Seto
was several inches above six feet, he could cover quite a distance with little effort. Mokuba had shot up several inches over the years,
but he still had to strain himself to look into Seto's eyes when his brother stood.
Seto strode through the doors, stared in annoyance at the throng of chattering, shrieking college kids, and promptly marched to the
podium where a harassed looking greeter was perched, looking very nervous at Seto's intimidating glower. Seto ignored the snarls of
the crowd behind him, angry that he had "cut in line." Biting his lip, and looking to make sure Mokuba was at his side, he slid his
credit card into her hands. "Mr...Seto Kaiba??" She blurted out, in dismay at the name embossed on the card. Seto tensed and
his facial expression hardened at the sudden silence as the crowd eyed his proud back. Mutely, Mokuba cringed reassurance against
Seto's side, sliding next to him as if trying to shield his older brother from the heated glares of so many eyes behind him.
And Mokuba's heart clenched when he saw Seto staring at a framed magazine cover on the wall, that showed him a year ago. Seto
paled, visibly, his fingers slowly sliding into fists. The picture displayed Seto standing at the stone steps of the latest business triumph
He stood tall, and unwavering, his trench coat flaring at the waist, and that smug, knowing sneer, so pristine, so ruthless, as a few
cronies stood in the shadow he cast. Seto was silent as one groping hand palmed the glass frame, and then fell limply to his side.
Mokuba did not see Seto's face, but noticed the slight tremor of Seto's back. By then, the crowd had noticed Seto, and Mokuba
fought the urge to spit at them.
So many words, like "rich bastard, thinks he's better than everybody else," to "what the hell is he doing out of his tower," to even,
"is he a drug addict? Look at how awful he looks!" Seto said nothing, only coiled his fingers into fists, when he heard the scathing
remark about Mokuba's parentage, and a horrific inuendo about Gozaburo and incest. Pivoting sharply, he shoved Mokuba behind him,
and whirled to face his on-lookers. Allowing his eyes to harden to glittering saphire, Seto strode forward, crossing his arms in a great show
of impatience and allowing his arrogance to mask his hurt.
"Normally, I would not go through the trouble of debasing myself by gracing you assholes with so much as a comment, but since you are
all here, I suppose I might as well take the opportunity to enlighten a few of you more ignorant f--s about the true nature of my life. I
am sure you have all garnered your no-doubt baseless information about me from the latest tabloids. I am here to confirm without hesitation
that I did not, in fact, sleep with six women. It was twelve. Being Gozaburo's adopted son and being the incredibly rich bastard I am, I not
only keep my own private harem at my mansion, I regularly drink, smoke, and indulge in every perversion you only wish you could afford in
your wildest dreams. I am suprised the tabloids are so tame about my incredibly wild sex life, actually. If you knew the truth about half the things
I do...you would piss yourselves, bow, and beg." Seto's smirk was inviting and darkly hinting of many things that never were, and left so much
unsaid as he listened to the total silence of awed shock. He glanced at Mokuba who was gaping for a long moment, then snickered, and siddled
up to his brother's side with a wicked smirk of his own.
"Now, to address the not so subtle remarks about my appearance.I think it should be balantly obvious to you as to why I'm so damn thin. When you
do nothing but screw and pop pills, you burn a lot of calories. I believe the drugs would also explain my rather erratic outbursts as well. Do any of you
f--cks have any more questions for me? Hmmm??" Seto raised his eyebrow in a silent challenge, and was pleased to see the absolute shock had reduced
all speculation to stunned awe. Satisfied at the response, he only pivoted to the gaping waitress, slipped her a tip of a few hundred dollars and sent her
scurrying to find a seat that was "away from these dumbasses, please."
While they were waiting, Seto did nothing but stare at the crowd, clearly challenging any of the onlookers to take him on. Mokuba's heart swelled as Seto
stood there with all his old pride. Seto allowed himself a smirk of triumph to Mokuba, who only pat him on the back. "You still have it, big brother."
Seto only shook his head, gave Mokuba a sad smile. "I never lost it, Mokuba. It's...so good to know that. Thank you for suggesting this." Mokuba bit his lip
when he saw how Seto's eyes strayed back with clear longing at the picture.
"Seto? Do you miss it that much?" Mokuba ventured quietly, as Seto slowly turned his face to Mokuba's. Seto was remarkably impassive, but from the tense white
line that appeared on his forehead, and the way that Seto subtly slumped...Mokuba knew that his heart was breaking.
"That chapter of my life is over with, Mokuba, and I have no choice in the matter but to move on, which I have." With that harsh answer, Seto turned away from the picture, hastily and growled, "Now, where did the waitress go?"
"Seto, I can't begin to imagine how much it hurt for you to step away." Mokuba whispered, gently. Seto sighed, wearily. "No, Mokuba, you can't. And as much as I
appreciate the sympathy...it's not something I want to discuss here. I agreed to a night out to get away from all the farewells. Now, please honor that and drop it."
The waitress came back with great haste, carefully ushering the two Kaibas through the crowded booths while offering apology after apology for the wait. Seto
bit back the irritated sigh, and allowed Mokuba to politely ask for the drinks..a Coke with extra ice for Mokuba, and iced tea for Seto. Seto was grateful that the
uncomfortable plastic booth was at least at the back of the restaurant in a far away corner. It was almost as dim as a cave, but it made Seto feel more at ease.
He reminded himself to give the waitress another tip if she continued to cater so well to their wishes. Mokuba offered him a trembling smile, and Seto forced one of his own.
It was then that Mokuba's eyes suddenly brightened, and to Seto's acute embarrassment, rose from the booth, and belted out, loudly, "Hey! How are you guys?
Want to have a seat with us?" Seto craned his neck to see who the hell Mokuba was shouting at, and groaned to see Yugi's unwelcome and smiling face floating
towards them, flanked by none other than Yami, and Joey Wheeler. Yami's eyes narrowed warily, after seeing Seto's dismay, and whispered something to Yugi, who turned sharply to him with a rare scowl, and an abrupt shake of his head. Seto's mood turned even more sour when he saw Joey's goofy, stupid grin melt into
a glare. Seto cringed inwardly. Of all the things he sincerely wanted to avoid, a confrontation was definitely one of them. He only hoped that Joey would allow it
for once. Seto honestly didn't know what the hell he did to make the blond hate him so much, but he sincerely did not wish to find out now.
Mokuba gave Seto a nudge with his elbow and promptly slid into the booth beside him, leaving Seto flush and trapped against the wall. Yami, Yugi, and
Joey arranged themselves in the opposite booth, the smaller Motos facing Mokuba and Joey casually sprawling his long legs out from under the table and
accidently stomping on Seto's foot. Seto bit back the snarl, but gave Joey a glare, and a grunt. Joey, genuinely confused as to what Seto was already so
angry about, stiffened, raised his hands, and blurted out, "What the hell gives, Moneybags? You too good to mingle with the poor folks?" And topped it off with
a casual shrug. Seto only huffed in air, as Mokuba stared at him, alarmed. Seto managed to grind out, softly, "You stepped on my foot, Wheeler. I suggest
you watch where you sit down the next time, please."
Joey shrugged, again, apologetically. "Oh! Sorry." Seto said nothing more, but slid Mokuba a side glance as he settled himself back into the booth once again.
Yugi watched the icy exchange with a puzzled scowl. Awkwardly, he attempted to sooth things over by offering Mokuba a kind smile. "It's good to see you two
here. How have you both been, anyway? Seto, I'm glad to see that you're feeling better." The words were bright, and inocent. Mokuba grinned at Yugi, his
natural friendliness burbling up. Seto once again found himself grateful that Mokuba was naturally an extrovert. Seto was more than content to let Mokuba
do the bulk of socializing, which he did after Seto's nod of permission.
"Oh, we've been good, Yugi. Thanks for asking. How are things at the Game shop? Any new cards?" Seto watched in relief as soon Mokuba and Yugi were
chatting enthusiastically, and mercifully oblivious to the resuming glare that Seto got from Wheeler. Yami was clearly troubled as he glanced from Seto to Joey,
sensing the tension only increase as Joey ruffled the golden bangs out of his face and wryly whispered, "So, how's it goin', anyway, Moneybags?"
Seto glared at him, nonplussed, and uncertain if this was an attempt to tease, or be friendly. Grimacing as if he ate something that tasted awful, Seto worked
his mouth into as a neutral answer as possible, "I'm fine. And my name is Seto." His words ended in an icy hiss that made Joey's eyes bulge with amusement.
"'da hell's the matter with ya, Seto? Is this pissy mood of yours your best attempt at being friendly, or is his holiness too good to mingle wid the unwashed masses,
eh?"
Seto grit his teeth, and snarled, "Just drop it, Wheeler. Now is not the time or the place, and I'm rapidly losing what little patience I have to deal with you, mutt."
Incensed, Yami snapped, irritably, "Gentlemen, your petty grievances aside, I would ask that you either grow the hell up, and deal with each other like adults or
take your childish bullshit outside and away from Yugi and Mokuba. They don't deserved to be sucked into this, and I am honestly not in the mood to deal with
another hissy fit from either one of you."
Joey and Seto both glared at Yami. Yami merely shrugged, and waved towards the door. "If it can't be resolved, or ignored between you two, then at least have the
decency to attempt to talk it out before it comes to blows. I don't know what was the cause of so much anger between the two of you, but it's gone on for far too
long." Yami arched an eyebrow and stared levely at Seto. "Besides, Kaiba. Were you not the one that has the pressing need to absolve yourself of some issues,
while there's time?"
The blow was resignating and cruel, as Seto flinched in dismay at the barbed question. He could not believe that Yami would be bastard enough to bring up his own
weakness to flaunt in front of Wheeler, no less! Yami, unfortunately only stood the full and horrific implication of his words after they flew out of his mouth.
He looked absolutely stricken as he slapped the hand over his mouth and stared, wide eyed and sorrowful at Seto. And for once, the normally regal and restrained
Yami was now floundering, miserable and guilty at attempting to apologize, "Seto, I-"
"Save it." Seto hissed, as he slid his arms in his jacket, and snapped at Mokuba, "Move over, Mokuba." Mokuba was still chattering with Yugi, and turned to
Seto in suprise at his brother's dark mood, and obediently slid over to allow Seto to exit. Seto was heaving, and shaking with rage, as he silenced Mokuba's
questions with a curt, "I'm going outside to get my head on straight, and I don't want you coming after me. Any of you." He glared at Yami with a forbidding shake
of his head. And with that, he turned on his heels and exited before any of them could even speak.
Mokuba looked lost and confused as Yugi, watching as Seto disappeared through the door and out into the darkness. "What the heck was that all about?"
There was no answer, and Yugi watched in dismay as both Joey and Yami stared at each other for a lingering second, and promptly followed after Seto.
