Mokuba trudged out of Domino Elementary at 3 p.m., watching his classmates happily zoom past him with their cartoon character backpacks. Typically, he would be laughing and running with them, but today he could only manage a depressive meander over to Roland, who was parked across the street.
He was holding a graded math test in his hand, and judging by the fat red "D-", it was safe to assume that he did not want to have Seto sign this one.
The drive home was relatively easy, despite Mokuba's dampened mood. Roland usually rambled on about anything and everything, so Mokuba had time to stew in his misfortune as he stared out of the window, jealous of his cheerful friends and their good grades. They were all having their parents sign tests marked with red "A's" and smiling "Good Job!" stickers.
It was Tuesday, which was usually not an office day for Seto. Instead, Mokuba made his way down to the Kaiba Corp test lab, where his brother could be found making small adjustments to nearly-finished product.
Seto's lab was strictly off limits, but Mokuba found it with the door open, so he figured that Seto couldn't have been working on anything too important.
"Seto? Seto!" he called, "I'm home! Are you in here?"
His brother, adorned with a white and signature Kaiba Corp blue lab coat, peered over from a work table cluttered with random wires and screws. It was an unusual sight, really, seeing that Seto was generally a meticulously neat worker.
"I'm over here. What do you want?"
Mokuba walked past strange VR pods and shelves of half completed Duel Disk models to find his brother. "I need you to sign a paper," Mokuba flatly requested, passing Seto a folded sheet of paper.
Seto put a hand on his hip. "Is another piece of garbage contract request from that moron who wants a license agreement from us? Because I told our secretaries numerous times that I don't want this trash in my hands anymore. Tell them that Mr. Kaiba said that this paper can be their paycheck for the week," Seto demanded.
Mokuba winced. "Just… open it."
Mokuba remained silent as Seto unfolded the paper. He was eying it with a signature Kaiba leer.
"Hmph. Bombed a test?" Seto asked with a completely flattened affect. Mokuba usually had no problem reading Seto's cryptic moods, but this tone was a tricky one. Mokuba nervously swallowed.
"I'm sorry, Seto."
Seto sighed impatiently, sitting down on his swivel lab chair. "You don't need to apologize to me. It's your grade, not mine. I'm not the one who will have to retake 5th grade math in the summer."
Mokuba felt his heart drop. He desperately wanted to run to his room and disappear forever in shame, but he really needed to get that paper signed. He figured Seto wasn't going to hand it over that easily, so he decided to get talking.
"I just…"
Mokuba shrunk into himself.
Seto raised an eyebrow, the exam sitting under his folded hands.
"I just I don't understand how you are so smart, and I'm so stupid. You were already cooking up holograms and could speak two languages when you were as old as me. I can't even divide a fraction," he lamented, looking around at the elaborate creations of his brother that surrounded him. All products of Seto's genius.
Mokuba finished with a sad mutter. "I'm stupid."
Seto would never show it, but he felt his heart crack very similarly to his brother's. His mind went back to when he was a grade schooler, when he had no choice but to excel beyond reasonable expectations for his age. His academic excellence came at the price of sleep deprivation, agonizing headaches, and his would-be happy years being stripped away before he could even experience them. Seto and Mokuba's education couldn't have been more different, but that is exactly how Seto wanted things. Even if it came with an occasional bad grade.
"Mokuba. You've only ever said one stupid thing in your life, and it what you said to me just now. I don't want to hear you call yourself that again. Understood?"
"But I let you down a lot, just like everyone else does. Everyone expects me to be successful like you, smart like you, but I'll never be there. You're gifted. You're special. I'm not. And now my teacher knows about it," he said with a tearfully wavering voice.
Seto rubbed his temples. "I don't want you to have my life, Mokuba. The day that your childhood looks anything like mine is the day I know I have failed you," Seto said. His own voice had its usual sternness, but it wasn't completely free from sympathy. "I don't want you to become like me. Got it?"
"Seto?"
Seto shifted in his swivel chair, uncrossing his legs. "Come on, kid. You know I didn't have a normal childhood. In fact, I didn't have a childhood at all, and you almost lost yours too," Seto explained. "I can't change that, and I can't give you back the few years that you lost. But I can hope that the rest of your formative years will be nothing like mine when I was your age."
He continued. "My only expectations for you at this point in your life is that you are in good health and you aren't being a complete nuisance. I will take care of everything else until you're old enough for more responsibility. I'll push you, but I have no intentions of shoving you to get there."
With the air lightened from reassurance, Mokuba nodded and looked at the paper, hoping to shove it in his backpack and forget about it until tomorrow. Seto quickly pulled the paper away.
"I'm not finished, Mokuba," he warned. "Now, that being said, failing tests counts as being a complete nuisance, so I'm going to address it now, and you are going to listen. If you need help with something, either ask me for it, or I can hire a tutor for you. Your choice. There is no reason for you to struggle like this. It's unnecessary, and frankly, ridiculous."
Mokuba nodded again, this time with a flush of guilt. He still got a lecture after all, but, he supposed, it could have been worse.
Seeing that his word's got through to his brother, Seto signed the unfortunate piece of paper, considering adding a passive aggressive note to the teacher about how he should be grateful for a free autograph.
"Here."
Mokuba took the paper from his brother's hand, looking at the familiar signature. He was used to looking at it constantly when the two signed work papers together, but the beautiful penmanship looked out of place among childish math scribbles and big red D's. He felt discouraged by the stark contrast.
"Don't be too hard on yourself. Work harder and do better next time."
With those words melting away that last bit of self doubt, Mokuba smiled and walked out with his head held high. He knew he would slip, but trusted that his brother wouldn't let him completely fall. That was all he needed to know.