Angst, for the sole purpose of itself
Chapter One: Humans Exaggerate ~ ~ Chapter Two: So What? ~ ~ Chapter Three: There's No Harm in That Chapter Four: Is There?
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Rukita: When I refer to "Kaiba," it's to Seto, not Mokuba. I'm not incredibly fond of the name "Seto," it just seems too dull for the character. "Kaiba," on the other hand, has a certain flair if you ignore the fact that it means "seahorse" (there's a reason he's called that in the Hong Kong DVDs, the subtitlers didn't just pull that out of thin air, although Mai's various names seem less warranted). Actually, I think it's rather cute, almost like suggesting another personality that Kaiba doesn't reveal often.
Malik: The authoress apologizes for being so slow on updates; she always makes sure to post entries that are over 1500 words long (to ensure quality; her shorter chapters typically contain less meaningful content).
Isis: There's barely any shounen-ai in this chapter, but some does exist. If you don't like it, you probably should find another story or change your fan fiction preferences. Or you could create a state of denial and just ignore it (good luck on that one).
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Kaiba Seto
"Nii-sama," Mokuba peeked around a mostly closed door into his brother's office. As usual, no, always, he sat at his desk, typing. He was always typing, or analyzing figures, or sometimes developing or testing his duel disk systems. Although Mokuba did not expect to be greeted warmly by his older brother, he was surprised when Kaiba cast him a cold glare, showing atypical annoyance.
"Do you need something?"
Mokuba glanced down, intimidated by his brother's tone. He struggled to speak clearly, and his brother's impatient tapping did not assist him much. "I, I was just hoping, that maybe, if you had the time, it's nothing really, you don't have to help me."
"Help you with what?" Kaiba's emotion failed to flicker while Mokuba stumbled over his words. He normally had no trouble speaking his mind, but recently he found difficulty in addressing his brother, as if they had somehow become estranged.
"Math homework," he squeaked, holding out his workbook. Kaiba took it, quickly glanced over the problems, sighed, and turned to face his brother. He quickly explained the process to him, scratching a few notes in the book with a pencil, and then turned back to his laptop. Mokuba had hoped to sneak some time in with his brother afterwards, but seeing his obvious discontent, and even possible agitation, gave up on the idea and slunk out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him so as not to disturb his brother's work. "He's probably got a deadline to meet, or a large contract that he has to prepare for," Mokuba assured himself, convinced that his brother had a justifiable reason for acting particularly withdrawn. "It's work, after all; it's really important to him and difficult to maintain."
His brother, however, was not distressed over Kaiba Corporation. In fact, Kaiba Corp. was doing quite well, and work coincidentally was slow since the newest duel disk system had just been released. Instead, Kaiba's anxieties rested in something much more personal, more trivial.
"Yes, it's trivial," he told himself, "so why am I so concerned with it?" He leaned back in his chair, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. "What have I become? I have shriveled into little more than another easily distracted ant in this already overpopulated country, overpopulated planet. I have achieved in less than five years what most people spend their entire lives trying to accomplish and barely even make a dent in comparison to what I have created. Yet this motivation, this drive, this desperate want for attainment that propelled me forward, to where has it dissipated? But it hasn't vanished, rather it has been replaced; that which used to constantly fill my mind has parted, making way for newer thoughts and obsessions; it has moved down the ladder, up in the hierarchy of needs that influences my attentions. What a pathetic creature its departure has left me to be!
"And what, indeed, has replaced this motivation for accomplishment that has brought me so far and made me different from the other worthless ants? What trivial concerns disturb me? Oh, it's despicably simple, they are after all but primitive ponderings, they are-" he paused, opening his eyes slightly, and found himself staring blankly at the ceiling. He had answers, witty, intelligent, insightful answers, stored in the depths of his mind to questions both tangible and abstract. And yet, as he frantically poured over this storage of answers, he realized that he had no answer for the question he had just posed to himself. Such a simple question! He was disgusted to even have to discuss the issue with himself, the concept of having some other thoughts intrude upon his focused, work- oriented, well organized mind. "What _do_ I ponder? What thoughts plague my consciousness? There's something wrong, something that I have to discover about myself and correct so I can continue on as I once did. There's something, but I can't decide what. Like a void, an abyss, a great, gaping mouth draining away my soul particles at a time, but it's a constant draining. Like a dream, I sometimes stumble upon fragments of the identity of my parasite, but like a dream, these fragments slip from my grasp as quickly as they appeared. But I know it's something primitive that irks me, something underlying, something so blatantly fundamental to the human psyche that I have removed it from my consciousness due to irrelevance. Like a childish need for religion, for purpose; something to which ancient and weak-minded individuals need to cling, not me, for I have risen above that level. Except it's not quite that; I have a purpose, a place that I have created for myself. Rather . . ." He suddenly jolted upright from his chair, eyes wide; he had just grasped a fragment but this time he didn't let go. "No, it, it couldn't possibly," he stuttered, then laughed anxiously. "Look what I have become. I don't need this philosophical crap. This isn't me."
He stood and turned, facing the tall bay window that stood in place of his office's western wall. Night had cast her veil over the city, a dark, silky sheet covered in holes out of which the city lights shone forth. The moon cast a dim blue light upon the city, her brilliance dulled by the light pollution that stained the sky. Shrouded in wispy clouds, she appeared to sadly gaze upon the earth, as if realizing that she had been crushed by humanity. Her mystic qualities stripped, her virgin soil violated. She had be subjugated by humanity, so she lay, dangled more of, in the bleached sky to accept her inferiority and humility.
"Besides," Kaiba whispered, as if he could barely bring himself to sound out the words, "It can't possibly, I can't possibly be so weak as to succumb to, to," he reached his hand out, barely touching the cool glass with his trembling fingers, "to love." He smirked slightly at this remark, disgusted at what he had just spoken. "It's probably not though," he rationalized, "probably just some stray hormones or perhaps abnormal levels of electrical activity in the hypothalamus. Some physical anomaly, a temporary glitch to be ignored. It's just another natural human instinct to be repressed." This reassured him, and he returned to his desk where he turned off his laptop and left the room.
He didn't get very far down the hall before he was struck by sudden thought. It slid like a serpent through his mind, winding itself around every crevice, glaring mockingly at the boy. Kaiba felt his chest tighten and his heart begin to pound. "But," the serpent hissed slowly, "it's _not_ a natural instinct, is it? It would be one thing if you had fallen for a _girl_, but you didn't, did you?"
"Urusai," Kaiba whispered weakly, for the serpent spoke the truth. It _would_ be one thing if his love had been for a female, then he could brush the feeling away like a mosquito. But he hadn't, and this changed him, this affected him, who he was. He couldn't just brush this feeling away, dismiss it as a nuisance, a bothersome part of being human.
"Doushite?" he asked himself. "Why me? Why a male? Why . . . _him_?"
He stumbled down the hallway to his bedroom, which also faced the western sky. The door was open to the balcony, allowing the breeze to blow into the room. Beyond the door was the moon, barely glowing now. As Kaiba stared into the night, the moon was consumed by dark clouds and vanished. The sky was no darker from her absence, for humanity's light kept it lit. The moon was no longer necessary.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Nii-sama: older brother
Urusai: literally translated it means noisy, but it's used to mean "shut up"
Doushite: why
Hypothalamus: not a Japanese word, but rather a medical term referring to part of the brain which controls the autonomic nervous system, hunger, and the pituitary gland (meaning that it also influences sexual drive)
Rukita: I kept the ending rather open so that I can tweak it as I deem necessary later on, but I'll reveal more about Kaiba's little secret soon. I'd like to play with his character a bit before any of the other characters find out though. After all, that's what destroys them, the secrets they keep, and yet that's what reassures them that they're alive (kind of like in the Goo Goo Dolls song "Iris," which says "you bleed to know you're alive).
Ryou: And don't forget, the more reviews, the faster chapters get written!
Next Chapter: Yuugi
Chapter One: Humans Exaggerate ~ ~ Chapter Two: So What? ~ ~ Chapter Three: There's No Harm in That Chapter Four: Is There?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rukita: When I refer to "Kaiba," it's to Seto, not Mokuba. I'm not incredibly fond of the name "Seto," it just seems too dull for the character. "Kaiba," on the other hand, has a certain flair if you ignore the fact that it means "seahorse" (there's a reason he's called that in the Hong Kong DVDs, the subtitlers didn't just pull that out of thin air, although Mai's various names seem less warranted). Actually, I think it's rather cute, almost like suggesting another personality that Kaiba doesn't reveal often.
Malik: The authoress apologizes for being so slow on updates; she always makes sure to post entries that are over 1500 words long (to ensure quality; her shorter chapters typically contain less meaningful content).
Isis: There's barely any shounen-ai in this chapter, but some does exist. If you don't like it, you probably should find another story or change your fan fiction preferences. Or you could create a state of denial and just ignore it (good luck on that one).
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Kaiba Seto
"Nii-sama," Mokuba peeked around a mostly closed door into his brother's office. As usual, no, always, he sat at his desk, typing. He was always typing, or analyzing figures, or sometimes developing or testing his duel disk systems. Although Mokuba did not expect to be greeted warmly by his older brother, he was surprised when Kaiba cast him a cold glare, showing atypical annoyance.
"Do you need something?"
Mokuba glanced down, intimidated by his brother's tone. He struggled to speak clearly, and his brother's impatient tapping did not assist him much. "I, I was just hoping, that maybe, if you had the time, it's nothing really, you don't have to help me."
"Help you with what?" Kaiba's emotion failed to flicker while Mokuba stumbled over his words. He normally had no trouble speaking his mind, but recently he found difficulty in addressing his brother, as if they had somehow become estranged.
"Math homework," he squeaked, holding out his workbook. Kaiba took it, quickly glanced over the problems, sighed, and turned to face his brother. He quickly explained the process to him, scratching a few notes in the book with a pencil, and then turned back to his laptop. Mokuba had hoped to sneak some time in with his brother afterwards, but seeing his obvious discontent, and even possible agitation, gave up on the idea and slunk out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him so as not to disturb his brother's work. "He's probably got a deadline to meet, or a large contract that he has to prepare for," Mokuba assured himself, convinced that his brother had a justifiable reason for acting particularly withdrawn. "It's work, after all; it's really important to him and difficult to maintain."
His brother, however, was not distressed over Kaiba Corporation. In fact, Kaiba Corp. was doing quite well, and work coincidentally was slow since the newest duel disk system had just been released. Instead, Kaiba's anxieties rested in something much more personal, more trivial.
"Yes, it's trivial," he told himself, "so why am I so concerned with it?" He leaned back in his chair, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. "What have I become? I have shriveled into little more than another easily distracted ant in this already overpopulated country, overpopulated planet. I have achieved in less than five years what most people spend their entire lives trying to accomplish and barely even make a dent in comparison to what I have created. Yet this motivation, this drive, this desperate want for attainment that propelled me forward, to where has it dissipated? But it hasn't vanished, rather it has been replaced; that which used to constantly fill my mind has parted, making way for newer thoughts and obsessions; it has moved down the ladder, up in the hierarchy of needs that influences my attentions. What a pathetic creature its departure has left me to be!
"And what, indeed, has replaced this motivation for accomplishment that has brought me so far and made me different from the other worthless ants? What trivial concerns disturb me? Oh, it's despicably simple, they are after all but primitive ponderings, they are-" he paused, opening his eyes slightly, and found himself staring blankly at the ceiling. He had answers, witty, intelligent, insightful answers, stored in the depths of his mind to questions both tangible and abstract. And yet, as he frantically poured over this storage of answers, he realized that he had no answer for the question he had just posed to himself. Such a simple question! He was disgusted to even have to discuss the issue with himself, the concept of having some other thoughts intrude upon his focused, work- oriented, well organized mind. "What _do_ I ponder? What thoughts plague my consciousness? There's something wrong, something that I have to discover about myself and correct so I can continue on as I once did. There's something, but I can't decide what. Like a void, an abyss, a great, gaping mouth draining away my soul particles at a time, but it's a constant draining. Like a dream, I sometimes stumble upon fragments of the identity of my parasite, but like a dream, these fragments slip from my grasp as quickly as they appeared. But I know it's something primitive that irks me, something underlying, something so blatantly fundamental to the human psyche that I have removed it from my consciousness due to irrelevance. Like a childish need for religion, for purpose; something to which ancient and weak-minded individuals need to cling, not me, for I have risen above that level. Except it's not quite that; I have a purpose, a place that I have created for myself. Rather . . ." He suddenly jolted upright from his chair, eyes wide; he had just grasped a fragment but this time he didn't let go. "No, it, it couldn't possibly," he stuttered, then laughed anxiously. "Look what I have become. I don't need this philosophical crap. This isn't me."
He stood and turned, facing the tall bay window that stood in place of his office's western wall. Night had cast her veil over the city, a dark, silky sheet covered in holes out of which the city lights shone forth. The moon cast a dim blue light upon the city, her brilliance dulled by the light pollution that stained the sky. Shrouded in wispy clouds, she appeared to sadly gaze upon the earth, as if realizing that she had been crushed by humanity. Her mystic qualities stripped, her virgin soil violated. She had be subjugated by humanity, so she lay, dangled more of, in the bleached sky to accept her inferiority and humility.
"Besides," Kaiba whispered, as if he could barely bring himself to sound out the words, "It can't possibly, I can't possibly be so weak as to succumb to, to," he reached his hand out, barely touching the cool glass with his trembling fingers, "to love." He smirked slightly at this remark, disgusted at what he had just spoken. "It's probably not though," he rationalized, "probably just some stray hormones or perhaps abnormal levels of electrical activity in the hypothalamus. Some physical anomaly, a temporary glitch to be ignored. It's just another natural human instinct to be repressed." This reassured him, and he returned to his desk where he turned off his laptop and left the room.
He didn't get very far down the hall before he was struck by sudden thought. It slid like a serpent through his mind, winding itself around every crevice, glaring mockingly at the boy. Kaiba felt his chest tighten and his heart begin to pound. "But," the serpent hissed slowly, "it's _not_ a natural instinct, is it? It would be one thing if you had fallen for a _girl_, but you didn't, did you?"
"Urusai," Kaiba whispered weakly, for the serpent spoke the truth. It _would_ be one thing if his love had been for a female, then he could brush the feeling away like a mosquito. But he hadn't, and this changed him, this affected him, who he was. He couldn't just brush this feeling away, dismiss it as a nuisance, a bothersome part of being human.
"Doushite?" he asked himself. "Why me? Why a male? Why . . . _him_?"
He stumbled down the hallway to his bedroom, which also faced the western sky. The door was open to the balcony, allowing the breeze to blow into the room. Beyond the door was the moon, barely glowing now. As Kaiba stared into the night, the moon was consumed by dark clouds and vanished. The sky was no darker from her absence, for humanity's light kept it lit. The moon was no longer necessary.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Nii-sama: older brother
Urusai: literally translated it means noisy, but it's used to mean "shut up"
Doushite: why
Hypothalamus: not a Japanese word, but rather a medical term referring to part of the brain which controls the autonomic nervous system, hunger, and the pituitary gland (meaning that it also influences sexual drive)
Rukita: I kept the ending rather open so that I can tweak it as I deem necessary later on, but I'll reveal more about Kaiba's little secret soon. I'd like to play with his character a bit before any of the other characters find out though. After all, that's what destroys them, the secrets they keep, and yet that's what reassures them that they're alive (kind of like in the Goo Goo Dolls song "Iris," which says "you bleed to know you're alive).
Ryou: And don't forget, the more reviews, the faster chapters get written!
Next Chapter: Yuugi