Unfinished Symphony
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, a letter opener, an old style record player, or the rights to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's; The Lost World.
Finally I update what took me so long??? Ok I am dearly sorry for my delay, but I have been having a bad time. I got what I called a Virgil writing complex, and then when I do finish this I almost lose it. I only got back 6 pages and had to re-type the other two, which was ok the first six I did during my Virgil complex. A Virgil writing complex is when you can only write a bit a day and sometimes none at all, not because you have writers block just because you are a perfectionist who has to perfect a chapter before posting otherwise you'll hate yourself. Well Virgil was this Roman poet who basically took ten years to make one book, because he only wrote a bit a day he said that he like to whip the words into shape. So in other words he was a perfectionist, he even wanted one of his books burned if he died before finishing it, which did happen and lucky that they decided not to burn it even unfinished.
Ok so after my little history lesson here is my long awaited fifth chapter enjoy.
I dedicate this chapter to Eriko Myoujin. *I hope you like the Mokuba and Seto fluff*
Chapter V: The Sorrows of Reaping
The door slammed as a blur of black ran into the house shouting, "Niisama! Niisama!"
Mokuba had entered the estate and ran down the hallway up the stairs calling for his brother. Seto who was leaving the Palm room heard the yelling coming from a distance, as he saw his brother bounding down the hallway with great speed.
The young boy stopped at the older one as he went to hug him. A smile traced its way up the older boys face as he spoke, "So how was your day today?"
Mokuba left his brothers embrace as he smiled back and replied, "It was good, Science class was so much fun! Are you feeling more better now, Niisama?"
Nodding Seto spoke back, "Yeah, I should say that right now I feel even more better."
The ever-smiling boy grabbed on to the older ones hand as he grabbed the clear green doorknob of the Palm room and opened it. Mokuba walked into the room with Seto still behind him holding on to his hand as he found himself being guided back to the wicker chairs he had left earlier. The raven- haired boy let go of Seto's hand when they reached the chair, allowing him to sit down while Mokuba reached over for his own chair copying his brothers' actions.
Not understanding why Mokuba had leaded him back here Seto asked him, "Why did you bring me here Mokuba?"
The mouth of Mokuba's dropped at the question his brother had gave him, and replied back, "I thought you would remember?"
Still not understanding what Mokuba meant he questioned again, "Remember? What about?"
Getting up from his wicker chair, Mokuba walked over to the glass table and grabbed the book laying on it and brought it back over to his brother presenting him the cover of it. The brunette lightly touched the book in the younger boys' hands as he put it in to his own. Brushing the book as he examined the cover of three men dressed in Safari type clothes in a think jungle landscape, looking horrifically at a great beast standing before them, it was a dinosaur if none the like has ever seen.
Lightly mouthing the words the appeared on the cover he said, "'The Lost World.'"
The younger boy who had watched his brother looking admirably at the book responded back interrupting the spontaneous moment, "Yeah, you had promised to read this book to me because it was in English and I can't read it."
Nodding his head back as he continued to glare at the book carefully, lifting his head back up to the younger one and spoke back gently, "I guess I did. How unlike me to forget."
Looking at the reaction upon the face of his brother, Mokuba said with a sad look on his face, "You don't have to read this now if you don't really want to, you're probably not up to it."
Still looking at Mokuba's face, Seto hated to see him disappointed. He reached his hand up and brushed it against the younger ones' cheek as he smiled and replied, "Yes I will read it to you."
The face on Mokuba brightens up as his brother spoke. He walked over grabbing the wicker chair putting it beside his brother and sitting down making himself comfortable. Seto seeing his brother ready and excited for what he was about to hear opened up the paperback book and looked down at the pages, looking down thoughtfully for a moment he lifted his head back up.
Mokuba looked at him and started to worry, "Are you ok, Niisama?"
Shaking his head as he spoke, "No, I am fine. It just takes a moment to get used to translating English into Japanese. They are not the most compatible languages, takes years to master both."
He again looked at the pages of the book, looking over words that began the chapter and sentences as he opened his mouth and repeated the words on the page that was before him,
" 'I. There Are Heroisms All Round Us
Mr. Hungerton, her father, really was the most tactless person upon earth- a fluffy, feathery, untidy cockatoo of a man, perfectly good-natured, but absolutely centred upon his own self silly. If anything could have driven me from Gladys, it would have been the thought of such a father-in-law. I am convinced that he really believed in his heart that I came round to the Chestnuts three days a week for the pleasure of his company, and very especially to hear his views upon bimetallism-a subject upon which he was by the way of being an authority.' "
Continued Seto read as an attentive Mokuba held on to every word that came out of his brothers' mouth, like no other person could master such elegance.
* * * * * * * * *
Walking in the brisk afternoon sun was Nikko who made her way down the road thinking as to her visit at the Kaiba estate. What was she thinking? As if Kaiba could believe anything especially when she refused to tell him. It was so naïve of her to think that she could go over there and just tell him not to go into his office and not expect an explanation. He didn't know her that well. She had left his house in such a manor, she doubt that she would ever see him again-alive.
Lost in her own world she didn't see the figures that passed by her and stopped as they saw her so deep in thought. She heard their voice call out, recognizing them that broke her train of thought in her mind.
Turning around and looking at the people who matched the voices, it was Yugi who said again, "Hello, Nikko. May we ask where you are going?"
The 'we' what Yugi referred to was Anzu, who stood by Yugi's side smiling. Nikko thought what is she to tell them, knowing that she could not say her true reason for being out their.
Anzu looked at Nikko and decided to say something herself, "We are going into town to visit some stores."
Smiling Nikko decided to ignore her thoughts, knowing that remaining on them would just worry the two before her, she spoke, "Could I come with you?
Nodding Yugi said excitedly, "Of course you can! Maybe you can help us find a present for Shizuka, Jounouchi's sister."
Happy that they both accepted her in joining them, she completely left her thoughts that bothered her and joined in the fun that she had missed so much.
* * * * * * *
Still reading the book Seto heard a yawn from Mokuba, who was still listening beside him. He looked over at his younger brother and asked, "Mokuba, are you tired?"
The black ruffled hair boy shook his head in agreement. At that Seto closed the book, "Then I think you should go to bed."
The boy pouted, "Please, Niisama. I want to stay up longer and talk a bit."
The older boy looked at Mokuba out of the corner of his eye and nodded, "Ok Mokuba, what do you want to talk about."
Watching the older brunette put the book back on the table and sitting down again, looking straight at Mokuba for an answer. Adverting his eyes Mokuba silently replied, "Tell me about mother and papa."
Sapphire eyes held their position in a panic for a moment as they closed gently, hiding the feelings that were deep inside the soul they protected. He opened them finally with a different look upon them, not one of anger or sadness, but of deep regret as they held the memories of a broken past. A smile forced it way upon his face as his eyes still echoed hollowed feelings.
Taking a deep breath as he swallowed, Seto gently started, "Well papa, as I remember was a man of his word, never once had he ever broken a promise to anyone. You could trust him to always be there to protect anyone or anything. He would have even risked his life for them." He was still smiling as his eyes shined a bit as if any more pain would cause tears. "After mother died though, he tried his best I know to make both of our lives happy, he worked so hard, even though he had a fall out with our family. I don't why? I never understood, but then again, I was only around 10 when he died."
Listening to his brothers' tale, he could see that some of the memories held their own pain deep inside of him. Mokuba lightly placed his hand on his brothers' "I know Niisama, you don't have to go on about how he died, I hate to see you look so sad. I was only wondering, but I can still remember how you cried when we found out what happen to papa. You don't have to say anymore, even about mother, I know how sad it makes you."
Shaking his head Seto reached out and stroked Mokuba's cheek, as he whispered, "No, Mokuba I have to go on, you want to know and even though it hurts to remember, I have to let it out."
Touching his brother's hand Mokuba let a tear slide down his face as he nodded allowing him to continue. Brushing away the tear on the little boy's face, Seto moved his hand away and continued, "I can't remember much about our mother, back then I was five and my memory was not great for a kid. I just remember her touch, as she held me in her arms. The way she smelled, like of a beautiful garden of flowers. I do remember hearing music, she loved the classics, that's what papa told me." He smiled at the memory of the music his mother used to play. "I can't remember what she looked like, but from what I was told she had the most beautiful eyes, the way you looked at them you would swear like she was going to cry every time she looked at you." His eyes welled up with tears as they remembered bits of pieces that ventured from his forgotten past.
He looked at Mokuba and smiled still with tears welling in his eyes fearing if they fell, he would fall also. Seto still remembered one thing as he debated telling his brother, but even though it hurts so much he knew that it was nothing he should fear.
He swallowed away his fear trying to forget the tears in his eyes and the fear in his soul, "Did you know that mother liked poetry?"
Mokuba shook his head and replied, "No, I didn't. Tell me what poetry did she like?"
He closed his eyes and pictured in his mind the one memory of his mother and him. They were both in the yard of their house, he was sitting on a blanket as his mother walked up and sat down beside him holding a couple of roses in her hand. The boy tried to grab one touching the stem as a thorn pricked him, he looked as the red blood dripping down his finger and cried at the sight. The woman pulled a white handkerchief out of her pocket and wrapped it around his finger, telling the young boy it was ok. Seto tried to remember her face, but all he could see was her eyes. Her eyes that looked straight at him, with love and caring, one of the only times he ever saw eyes that reflected that feeling to him. The woman still trying to calm the frightened boy pulled him closer to her as she gently embraced him, humming a poem that gently fell from her lips.
Seto repeated the story to his brother after he finished Mokuba asked him a question, "What was the poem that mother said to you?"
Responding back to his brothers' question, "Papa told me the poem. I had asked him when I was a bit older what was the poem that mother would always say to me when I was little, he wrote down the poem and gave me it."
Still wondering what the poem was the younger one questioned again, "Do you still have the paper with the words?"
A frown traced its way upon the face of Seto as she slowly shook his head negatively; disappointment drew its look on Mokuba's face. The older one saw this and abruptly spoke, "I do though remember the poem."
Lightly the black haired boy smiled as he asked, "Could you then tell me it, Niisama?"
Knowing that deep inside of him a well of emotions was tucked inside himself, he nodded choking back his fear, of which he knew no meaning of but felt, as he gasped out, "Of course, Mokuba. If you would like."
With Mokuba listening he recited the poem, which was etched into his mind,
" 'Blue roses blow gently in the wind, Telling a story of yesterday. Forever was the youth they had, When eternity was beginning, When I was with you.
Roses bloom gently in the field, Spreading down the path of tomorrow. Remember of yesterday, What love I held, What memories you feel
Petals gracefully drop to the ground, Echoing with a sweet smell. Telling me of tomorrow, Where you will be, Where you will remember of me
Roses that grew yesterday and die tomorrow, Eternity endures as long as they bloom-'" A tear escaped one of Seto's welled up eyes as he continued.
Reminded I am of yesterday, With you in tomorrow, Will you remember me today?
With Blue Roses in the wind'"
As Seto finished the poem tears streamed down his face, the tears that were held back before. Mokuba saw the tears fall down his older brothers' face as he went up to him and hugged him; tears soon fell down his own face following his brothers'. The older one put his arms around the younger one returning his hug. They both embraced shedding tears as memories that were forgotten in darkness that were resurfaced once again when the poem had be told.
Seto lifted his head up from the embrace. The tears that were upon his face a moment ago had dried, looking up at Mokuba's face as he whispered, "I'm am so sorry."
The younger boy letting go of the embrace questioned the older one, "Sorry? What about?"
Smiling as Seto stroked the black-ruffled hair on Mokuba's head, he closed his eyes deeply as he replied, "Nothing, Mokuba. Nothing."
Getting up from his seat he replied, "I think it's time to go to bed Mokuba."
Following the older one they both left the room as Mokuba was about to take off for his room he turned around and noticed Seto leaving in the direction of the west wing, he called out, "Your not going to bed yet, Niisama?"
Hearing the voice of the younger one he turned around and responded back, "No, I think I'll finish some work before going to sleep. Night, Mokuba."
Turning around he left again in the direction of his office, leaving Mokuba to go in the other direction. He wasn't ready to go to sleep yet, not ready for the nightmares that haunted him to resurface. Work was a liberator as was Mokuba to him and here he was again running back to the embrace of the thing that kept his life intact.
Standing in front of the wooden oak doors he pondered over what Nikko had said earlier. What did she mean by not going to his office? What did she know that he didn't? Brushing off the doubt that was surfacing in his mind he grabbed the clear glass knob and turned it, opening the door with a slight crack as he stepped inside.
Scanning his office he saw what the window reflected as night. Then his mind registered a sound, he turned his sight to where the sound originated. Walking towards the object that was creating the sound, an old style record player. It was an old relic of early twentieth century America, an acquired assist of which belong to his adoptive father. He remembered that man would always be playing all sorts of old type classical music, it was the only music that he allowed in the house, all the others he considered 'barbaric' and 'idiotic'. Now it didn't play anything that he remembered that man having, it played something that he remembers hearing the young violin player at school playing.
With a hush in his voice he replied, "It must have been housekeeping. I must speak to them again about touching things."
Stretching out his hand to stop the needle on the record from playing, it stopped suddenly. After being still for a moment he jerked away his hand from it in surprise at the record player stopping on its own. Noticing how silent it was, like it had never played at all. Not wanting to deal with the mystery behind the record player he turned his thoughts on other things as he made his way to his desk.
Grabbing his chair he sat himself down as looked at the top of his desk. A couple of envelopes sat right in front of him, he picked them up and looked though them. He went to grab the letter opener, it was sliver having a sharp blade on one end and on the other end an unusual design that looked like a skeleton key.
Putting down the envelopes he gripped in his hand the sharp end of the letter opener, with the other end with the weird skeleton key sticking out. Turing his attention to one drawer in his desk that had a key hole on it. Sticking the skeleton key end of the letter opener in the hole, he turned it left to hear a click sounding that the lock was open. Opening the drawer he sorted though the folders that are contained inside, pulling out the folder that he sought. Closing the drawer as he locked it and placing the letter opener back on his desk. Putting the folder on his desk opening it while he looked though papers that the folder contained.
After going though the contents of the folder he couldn't find the papers he was looking for, looking though it again still he didn't find them. Placing his hand upon his forehead he wondered why he couldn't find the papers he was looking for-when it struck him.
Within his mind he remembered going though the same folder yesterday and the events that happened. He was in his office as was now, he took the same letter opener, opening it in the same drawer, and pulled out the folder that he held in his hands now. Placing the folder on the desk he repeated his same actions of the present, but with the exception of one thing, he had found the papers in the past of the memory. While remembering what happened next he placed the folder back in the drawer and locked it putting the letter opener back on his desk. Looking though the papers that was on his desk he found that his vision was growing blurry, continuing he felt heat upon his face and numbness in his throat. Reaching his hand out for the cup of Green tea that he had asked the maid to bring in before he came, he put the hot cup up to his lips taking a small sip not wanting to burn his throat. Finding that his vision was still blurred he reached his hand up to his forehead felling the intense heat coming from it. Knowing that he was sick and wasn't fit to work at the moment he placed the cup of tea back on his desk as he lifted himself up from his desk, walking towards the door he opened it and closed it. He walked down the hallway towards his room not thinking at the moment that he had left the papers still on his desk.
He shot up from behind his desk toppling his chair over at the sudden action, he had remember what happened, leaving the papers still on his desk. Furious with anger he swept his hand across his desk, flinging the folder on it off the desk as the papers within in it scattered in the air around him. Storming across the room as he clutched the glass knob of the door opening it with haste and slamming it quickly behind him.
Leaning against the oak wooden doors while he ran his fingers though his mahogany hair as he mumbled, "Damn! How could I do such a stupid thing? How?"
Shaking his head in defiance he clenched hands to his side as he stopped leaning on the door and started walking down the hall. Eyes set and determined he didn't care what happened for he knew he would find them and if someone took them they would wish they hadn't.
To be continued.
Not my best chapter but I like the Mokuba and Seto fluff. I hope my next will be better being that I have ideas for it. I know Seto was a bit OOC *not too much I hope*, it's just that Seto was a bit shaken up from what happen last chapter and with Mokuba asking questions he was bound to fall apart. Next chapter he won't be like this, no he won't, you might not even like the way he acts, and it's the anger after the sadness.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, a letter opener, an old style record player, or the rights to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's; The Lost World.
Finally I update what took me so long??? Ok I am dearly sorry for my delay, but I have been having a bad time. I got what I called a Virgil writing complex, and then when I do finish this I almost lose it. I only got back 6 pages and had to re-type the other two, which was ok the first six I did during my Virgil complex. A Virgil writing complex is when you can only write a bit a day and sometimes none at all, not because you have writers block just because you are a perfectionist who has to perfect a chapter before posting otherwise you'll hate yourself. Well Virgil was this Roman poet who basically took ten years to make one book, because he only wrote a bit a day he said that he like to whip the words into shape. So in other words he was a perfectionist, he even wanted one of his books burned if he died before finishing it, which did happen and lucky that they decided not to burn it even unfinished.
Ok so after my little history lesson here is my long awaited fifth chapter enjoy.
I dedicate this chapter to Eriko Myoujin. *I hope you like the Mokuba and Seto fluff*
Chapter V: The Sorrows of Reaping
The door slammed as a blur of black ran into the house shouting, "Niisama! Niisama!"
Mokuba had entered the estate and ran down the hallway up the stairs calling for his brother. Seto who was leaving the Palm room heard the yelling coming from a distance, as he saw his brother bounding down the hallway with great speed.
The young boy stopped at the older one as he went to hug him. A smile traced its way up the older boys face as he spoke, "So how was your day today?"
Mokuba left his brothers embrace as he smiled back and replied, "It was good, Science class was so much fun! Are you feeling more better now, Niisama?"
Nodding Seto spoke back, "Yeah, I should say that right now I feel even more better."
The ever-smiling boy grabbed on to the older ones hand as he grabbed the clear green doorknob of the Palm room and opened it. Mokuba walked into the room with Seto still behind him holding on to his hand as he found himself being guided back to the wicker chairs he had left earlier. The raven- haired boy let go of Seto's hand when they reached the chair, allowing him to sit down while Mokuba reached over for his own chair copying his brothers' actions.
Not understanding why Mokuba had leaded him back here Seto asked him, "Why did you bring me here Mokuba?"
The mouth of Mokuba's dropped at the question his brother had gave him, and replied back, "I thought you would remember?"
Still not understanding what Mokuba meant he questioned again, "Remember? What about?"
Getting up from his wicker chair, Mokuba walked over to the glass table and grabbed the book laying on it and brought it back over to his brother presenting him the cover of it. The brunette lightly touched the book in the younger boys' hands as he put it in to his own. Brushing the book as he examined the cover of three men dressed in Safari type clothes in a think jungle landscape, looking horrifically at a great beast standing before them, it was a dinosaur if none the like has ever seen.
Lightly mouthing the words the appeared on the cover he said, "'The Lost World.'"
The younger boy who had watched his brother looking admirably at the book responded back interrupting the spontaneous moment, "Yeah, you had promised to read this book to me because it was in English and I can't read it."
Nodding his head back as he continued to glare at the book carefully, lifting his head back up to the younger one and spoke back gently, "I guess I did. How unlike me to forget."
Looking at the reaction upon the face of his brother, Mokuba said with a sad look on his face, "You don't have to read this now if you don't really want to, you're probably not up to it."
Still looking at Mokuba's face, Seto hated to see him disappointed. He reached his hand up and brushed it against the younger ones' cheek as he smiled and replied, "Yes I will read it to you."
The face on Mokuba brightens up as his brother spoke. He walked over grabbing the wicker chair putting it beside his brother and sitting down making himself comfortable. Seto seeing his brother ready and excited for what he was about to hear opened up the paperback book and looked down at the pages, looking down thoughtfully for a moment he lifted his head back up.
Mokuba looked at him and started to worry, "Are you ok, Niisama?"
Shaking his head as he spoke, "No, I am fine. It just takes a moment to get used to translating English into Japanese. They are not the most compatible languages, takes years to master both."
He again looked at the pages of the book, looking over words that began the chapter and sentences as he opened his mouth and repeated the words on the page that was before him,
" 'I. There Are Heroisms All Round Us
Mr. Hungerton, her father, really was the most tactless person upon earth- a fluffy, feathery, untidy cockatoo of a man, perfectly good-natured, but absolutely centred upon his own self silly. If anything could have driven me from Gladys, it would have been the thought of such a father-in-law. I am convinced that he really believed in his heart that I came round to the Chestnuts three days a week for the pleasure of his company, and very especially to hear his views upon bimetallism-a subject upon which he was by the way of being an authority.' "
Continued Seto read as an attentive Mokuba held on to every word that came out of his brothers' mouth, like no other person could master such elegance.
* * * * * * * * *
Walking in the brisk afternoon sun was Nikko who made her way down the road thinking as to her visit at the Kaiba estate. What was she thinking? As if Kaiba could believe anything especially when she refused to tell him. It was so naïve of her to think that she could go over there and just tell him not to go into his office and not expect an explanation. He didn't know her that well. She had left his house in such a manor, she doubt that she would ever see him again-alive.
Lost in her own world she didn't see the figures that passed by her and stopped as they saw her so deep in thought. She heard their voice call out, recognizing them that broke her train of thought in her mind.
Turning around and looking at the people who matched the voices, it was Yugi who said again, "Hello, Nikko. May we ask where you are going?"
The 'we' what Yugi referred to was Anzu, who stood by Yugi's side smiling. Nikko thought what is she to tell them, knowing that she could not say her true reason for being out their.
Anzu looked at Nikko and decided to say something herself, "We are going into town to visit some stores."
Smiling Nikko decided to ignore her thoughts, knowing that remaining on them would just worry the two before her, she spoke, "Could I come with you?
Nodding Yugi said excitedly, "Of course you can! Maybe you can help us find a present for Shizuka, Jounouchi's sister."
Happy that they both accepted her in joining them, she completely left her thoughts that bothered her and joined in the fun that she had missed so much.
* * * * * * *
Still reading the book Seto heard a yawn from Mokuba, who was still listening beside him. He looked over at his younger brother and asked, "Mokuba, are you tired?"
The black ruffled hair boy shook his head in agreement. At that Seto closed the book, "Then I think you should go to bed."
The boy pouted, "Please, Niisama. I want to stay up longer and talk a bit."
The older boy looked at Mokuba out of the corner of his eye and nodded, "Ok Mokuba, what do you want to talk about."
Watching the older brunette put the book back on the table and sitting down again, looking straight at Mokuba for an answer. Adverting his eyes Mokuba silently replied, "Tell me about mother and papa."
Sapphire eyes held their position in a panic for a moment as they closed gently, hiding the feelings that were deep inside the soul they protected. He opened them finally with a different look upon them, not one of anger or sadness, but of deep regret as they held the memories of a broken past. A smile forced it way upon his face as his eyes still echoed hollowed feelings.
Taking a deep breath as he swallowed, Seto gently started, "Well papa, as I remember was a man of his word, never once had he ever broken a promise to anyone. You could trust him to always be there to protect anyone or anything. He would have even risked his life for them." He was still smiling as his eyes shined a bit as if any more pain would cause tears. "After mother died though, he tried his best I know to make both of our lives happy, he worked so hard, even though he had a fall out with our family. I don't why? I never understood, but then again, I was only around 10 when he died."
Listening to his brothers' tale, he could see that some of the memories held their own pain deep inside of him. Mokuba lightly placed his hand on his brothers' "I know Niisama, you don't have to go on about how he died, I hate to see you look so sad. I was only wondering, but I can still remember how you cried when we found out what happen to papa. You don't have to say anymore, even about mother, I know how sad it makes you."
Shaking his head Seto reached out and stroked Mokuba's cheek, as he whispered, "No, Mokuba I have to go on, you want to know and even though it hurts to remember, I have to let it out."
Touching his brother's hand Mokuba let a tear slide down his face as he nodded allowing him to continue. Brushing away the tear on the little boy's face, Seto moved his hand away and continued, "I can't remember much about our mother, back then I was five and my memory was not great for a kid. I just remember her touch, as she held me in her arms. The way she smelled, like of a beautiful garden of flowers. I do remember hearing music, she loved the classics, that's what papa told me." He smiled at the memory of the music his mother used to play. "I can't remember what she looked like, but from what I was told she had the most beautiful eyes, the way you looked at them you would swear like she was going to cry every time she looked at you." His eyes welled up with tears as they remembered bits of pieces that ventured from his forgotten past.
He looked at Mokuba and smiled still with tears welling in his eyes fearing if they fell, he would fall also. Seto still remembered one thing as he debated telling his brother, but even though it hurts so much he knew that it was nothing he should fear.
He swallowed away his fear trying to forget the tears in his eyes and the fear in his soul, "Did you know that mother liked poetry?"
Mokuba shook his head and replied, "No, I didn't. Tell me what poetry did she like?"
He closed his eyes and pictured in his mind the one memory of his mother and him. They were both in the yard of their house, he was sitting on a blanket as his mother walked up and sat down beside him holding a couple of roses in her hand. The boy tried to grab one touching the stem as a thorn pricked him, he looked as the red blood dripping down his finger and cried at the sight. The woman pulled a white handkerchief out of her pocket and wrapped it around his finger, telling the young boy it was ok. Seto tried to remember her face, but all he could see was her eyes. Her eyes that looked straight at him, with love and caring, one of the only times he ever saw eyes that reflected that feeling to him. The woman still trying to calm the frightened boy pulled him closer to her as she gently embraced him, humming a poem that gently fell from her lips.
Seto repeated the story to his brother after he finished Mokuba asked him a question, "What was the poem that mother said to you?"
Responding back to his brothers' question, "Papa told me the poem. I had asked him when I was a bit older what was the poem that mother would always say to me when I was little, he wrote down the poem and gave me it."
Still wondering what the poem was the younger one questioned again, "Do you still have the paper with the words?"
A frown traced its way upon the face of Seto as she slowly shook his head negatively; disappointment drew its look on Mokuba's face. The older one saw this and abruptly spoke, "I do though remember the poem."
Lightly the black haired boy smiled as he asked, "Could you then tell me it, Niisama?"
Knowing that deep inside of him a well of emotions was tucked inside himself, he nodded choking back his fear, of which he knew no meaning of but felt, as he gasped out, "Of course, Mokuba. If you would like."
With Mokuba listening he recited the poem, which was etched into his mind,
" 'Blue roses blow gently in the wind, Telling a story of yesterday. Forever was the youth they had, When eternity was beginning, When I was with you.
Roses bloom gently in the field, Spreading down the path of tomorrow. Remember of yesterday, What love I held, What memories you feel
Petals gracefully drop to the ground, Echoing with a sweet smell. Telling me of tomorrow, Where you will be, Where you will remember of me
Roses that grew yesterday and die tomorrow, Eternity endures as long as they bloom-'" A tear escaped one of Seto's welled up eyes as he continued.
Reminded I am of yesterday, With you in tomorrow, Will you remember me today?
With Blue Roses in the wind'"
As Seto finished the poem tears streamed down his face, the tears that were held back before. Mokuba saw the tears fall down his older brothers' face as he went up to him and hugged him; tears soon fell down his own face following his brothers'. The older one put his arms around the younger one returning his hug. They both embraced shedding tears as memories that were forgotten in darkness that were resurfaced once again when the poem had be told.
Seto lifted his head up from the embrace. The tears that were upon his face a moment ago had dried, looking up at Mokuba's face as he whispered, "I'm am so sorry."
The younger boy letting go of the embrace questioned the older one, "Sorry? What about?"
Smiling as Seto stroked the black-ruffled hair on Mokuba's head, he closed his eyes deeply as he replied, "Nothing, Mokuba. Nothing."
Getting up from his seat he replied, "I think it's time to go to bed Mokuba."
Following the older one they both left the room as Mokuba was about to take off for his room he turned around and noticed Seto leaving in the direction of the west wing, he called out, "Your not going to bed yet, Niisama?"
Hearing the voice of the younger one he turned around and responded back, "No, I think I'll finish some work before going to sleep. Night, Mokuba."
Turning around he left again in the direction of his office, leaving Mokuba to go in the other direction. He wasn't ready to go to sleep yet, not ready for the nightmares that haunted him to resurface. Work was a liberator as was Mokuba to him and here he was again running back to the embrace of the thing that kept his life intact.
Standing in front of the wooden oak doors he pondered over what Nikko had said earlier. What did she mean by not going to his office? What did she know that he didn't? Brushing off the doubt that was surfacing in his mind he grabbed the clear glass knob and turned it, opening the door with a slight crack as he stepped inside.
Scanning his office he saw what the window reflected as night. Then his mind registered a sound, he turned his sight to where the sound originated. Walking towards the object that was creating the sound, an old style record player. It was an old relic of early twentieth century America, an acquired assist of which belong to his adoptive father. He remembered that man would always be playing all sorts of old type classical music, it was the only music that he allowed in the house, all the others he considered 'barbaric' and 'idiotic'. Now it didn't play anything that he remembered that man having, it played something that he remembers hearing the young violin player at school playing.
With a hush in his voice he replied, "It must have been housekeeping. I must speak to them again about touching things."
Stretching out his hand to stop the needle on the record from playing, it stopped suddenly. After being still for a moment he jerked away his hand from it in surprise at the record player stopping on its own. Noticing how silent it was, like it had never played at all. Not wanting to deal with the mystery behind the record player he turned his thoughts on other things as he made his way to his desk.
Grabbing his chair he sat himself down as looked at the top of his desk. A couple of envelopes sat right in front of him, he picked them up and looked though them. He went to grab the letter opener, it was sliver having a sharp blade on one end and on the other end an unusual design that looked like a skeleton key.
Putting down the envelopes he gripped in his hand the sharp end of the letter opener, with the other end with the weird skeleton key sticking out. Turing his attention to one drawer in his desk that had a key hole on it. Sticking the skeleton key end of the letter opener in the hole, he turned it left to hear a click sounding that the lock was open. Opening the drawer he sorted though the folders that are contained inside, pulling out the folder that he sought. Closing the drawer as he locked it and placing the letter opener back on his desk. Putting the folder on his desk opening it while he looked though papers that the folder contained.
After going though the contents of the folder he couldn't find the papers he was looking for, looking though it again still he didn't find them. Placing his hand upon his forehead he wondered why he couldn't find the papers he was looking for-when it struck him.
Within his mind he remembered going though the same folder yesterday and the events that happened. He was in his office as was now, he took the same letter opener, opening it in the same drawer, and pulled out the folder that he held in his hands now. Placing the folder on the desk he repeated his same actions of the present, but with the exception of one thing, he had found the papers in the past of the memory. While remembering what happened next he placed the folder back in the drawer and locked it putting the letter opener back on his desk. Looking though the papers that was on his desk he found that his vision was growing blurry, continuing he felt heat upon his face and numbness in his throat. Reaching his hand out for the cup of Green tea that he had asked the maid to bring in before he came, he put the hot cup up to his lips taking a small sip not wanting to burn his throat. Finding that his vision was still blurred he reached his hand up to his forehead felling the intense heat coming from it. Knowing that he was sick and wasn't fit to work at the moment he placed the cup of tea back on his desk as he lifted himself up from his desk, walking towards the door he opened it and closed it. He walked down the hallway towards his room not thinking at the moment that he had left the papers still on his desk.
He shot up from behind his desk toppling his chair over at the sudden action, he had remember what happened, leaving the papers still on his desk. Furious with anger he swept his hand across his desk, flinging the folder on it off the desk as the papers within in it scattered in the air around him. Storming across the room as he clutched the glass knob of the door opening it with haste and slamming it quickly behind him.
Leaning against the oak wooden doors while he ran his fingers though his mahogany hair as he mumbled, "Damn! How could I do such a stupid thing? How?"
Shaking his head in defiance he clenched hands to his side as he stopped leaning on the door and started walking down the hall. Eyes set and determined he didn't care what happened for he knew he would find them and if someone took them they would wish they hadn't.
To be continued.
Not my best chapter but I like the Mokuba and Seto fluff. I hope my next will be better being that I have ideas for it. I know Seto was a bit OOC *not too much I hope*, it's just that Seto was a bit shaken up from what happen last chapter and with Mokuba asking questions he was bound to fall apart. Next chapter he won't be like this, no he won't, you might not even like the way he acts, and it's the anger after the sadness.
