Yay, here's another one. I wrote this one really late at night, so it
probably sucks beyond belief.... anyway! Sorry that not much happens here.
^^;; I'll try to get to the action next chapter, I promise!
~*~*~*~
It was time for school again, and Seto was sitting quietly at the desk in his room, enjoying the spectacular sunrise from the large window. It was a Monday, and time to go back to school. They'd spent a surprising amount of time together, that Winter Break. Surprising to themselves, at least; shocking to others.
And why wouldn't it be? They were as different as night and day. They clashed, roared, fought like cats in a sack.
Moreover, that was the way they liked it.
Or the way HE liked it; he wasn't sure if Joey enjoyed it or not. He didn't seem to.
They did mundane things together, usually. Watch a movie, go to the mall, duel occasionally. Joey told him that it was an 'educational experience', and apparently wanted him to learn something from these excursions. Specifically, learn how to be human. After all, he had asked to learn, hadn't he?
The sad thing was, he'd only been halfway joking. He really did want to know.
It didn't seem like too much, really. Joey made it seem like interacting with people was the key thing, and he did that often enough. For goodness sake, he interacted with Joey himself often enough, but he was fairly sure that the boy didn't consider him human, even now. They did things together more or less agreeably, sure; they could tolerate each other, in small increments. They even had some bland conversations.
But what they did best, and did most often, was argue.
Bicker, bicker, bicker, back and forth and back again. The banter seldom ceased. Seto was a natural at it; he rather liked having a verbal sparring partner, even one who seemed to be too inept to nettle him most of the time. It was better than nothing; he had nothing to argue about with Mokuba, except in play. That was fun enough. But there was a strange, almost sadistic delight for him in pushing Joey's buttons, a cruel practice that he'd shudder to think of ever doing to Mokuba.
Push him, push him, push him harder. Harder and harder, farther and farther, just to see how he responded and why. It was fascinating. Would he fight back, or submit? Would he bend, or break? Would he be riled or calm? Why, why, why? He really did want to know. He wanted to know how humans responded to things like this. How puppy dogs responded too, because that's what Joey was like, sometimes. Sometimes, he wasn't like a human.
Well, neither was he. Only, for him, it was permanent.
He could push Joey, just push and push, and only occasionally be pushed back. Joey wasn't a delicate crystal figurine. He wasn't a pane of glass. He was a pliable, whippy willow switch, flexible and firm, with just enough give to him to ensure that he'd produce a strong lash once it finally did come. He had to pull back to go on the offensive, like snapping a whip. A preparation, letting the anger fuel the attack. He cracked at the air, more bark than bite, thankfully. Judging by his bluster, if his bite was as big as his bark, then Seto knew he would've been reduced to shreds long before now.
But no, he always fell short. Joey just never managed to give him any lasting hurts, whereas the puppy liked to lick his wounds after each contest of wits. He could almost pity him. As a matter of fact, he did sort of pity him. And that made Joey even madder, since he only spoke of it in jest.
How would Joey feel if he knew it were true? What if he were to speak the words in all seriousness? How would he react to his implacable master throwing him a bone?
Master? It rather amused him to think of the boy as a pet, and he, the master. After all, that did seem to be the way their encounters went; Seto was always, ALWAYS on top. And that was the way it would ALWAYS be. Because he liked being the master. Because he HAD to be the master. There was no other choice, for him; not that he would accept. He'd been the pet, once....
He HAD to be the master. There was just no other way for him to be.
~*~*~*~
Long fingers deftly opened the envelope, shaking out it's contents as long legs carried them towards the school building with unhurried strides. Calm blue eyes surveyed the list, and soon became stormy. "Mutt."
"Yeah?" The blonde raised his head with an annoyed look, having just torn open his own envelope. They were going in together, as they were wont to do, these days.
"Give me your schedule for a minute." The voice was calm, and a little imperious.
"Why should I?" Joey demanded
"Just do it." Without waiting for a response, Seto plucked the sheet from Joey's hands, blue eyes narrowing as he hissed in displeasure.
Joey blinked, yet again minorly weirded out. It was strange, the way that Seto acted sometimes. Feline, almost. If the taller man had possessed a tail, it would have been lashing, then. "What? What IS it, already?" He tried to look on.
Seto handed him back his schedule. "Basic Drama and Theatrics. With _you_."
"You've gotta be kidding me!" He looked at the schedule, groaning. "No way! I SO did not sign up for that class..."
"Neither did I, pooch. It's one of the standard overflow classes, though, for when other electives get too full."
"I still refuse to believe that Intramural Basketball is full."
"Tough luck, pup. You _do_ have to try out for positions on teams like those. I'd signed up for a Business course, myself."
Joey stared at him for a moment, goggle-eyed, before starting to laugh. "You? Taking a business class? Everybody knows that you could _teach_ one of those things!"
"Continued education, mutt." Seto smirked. "Not having it implies that I'm not good at my job. Sort of like you actually making that basketball class would have implied that you had actual talent."
"I do too have talent!" Joey was fuming, now.
"Prove it." The words were crisp and clear. Simple. One of the things they'd done over the break was play basketball, 1 on 1.
"Fine!" Joey apparently didn't care that he'd lost every single game he'd been in against the blue-eyed perfectionist. What mattered was that a couple of the matches had been close enough to give him hope.
"Go ahead, then. We can set up an appointment later." Seto shrugged his bookbag into a more comfortable position on his back.
"Can't you ever do anything without that stupid appointment book of yours? I doubt you even know the meaning of spontaneity. You're more boring than.... I dunno. More boring than bread and water. There is no LIMIT to your boringness. You are the _epitome_ of boredom. All must bow down." Joey said, somewhat snidely.
Seto sighed, the perfect image of a patient, long-suffering soul, with just a hint of wry humor to it. "Ooh, such a large word, pup. Can you handle it? And spontaneity implies acting without prior planning; that's impossible when you're as busy as I am. I DO have a life, you know, unlike yourself."
Joey growled. "Stuff it, Scrooge."
"That's Mr. Scrooge, to you."
"Fine, MR. Scrooge."
"Much better. Show some respect, mongrel."
"I'm NOT a mongrel!"
"Don't be in denial."
"You're the one who's in denial."
"What have I possibly got to deny?"
"That I'm a smart, cool, funny, responsible, respectable, nice, loveable, friendly, and all around AWESOME guy." Joey gushed, grinning lopsidedly. "You just don't have the heart to admit it, because you're _jealous_ of me and my natural perfection."
Seto put on a stunned look, clasped his hands, widened his eyes, and tweaked his voice into a semblance of authenticity. "Oh, YES, Joey! You've read my deepest, darkest, innermost secrets! I was so afraid to tell you; I thought you might laugh at me! I would like to tell you how I've humbly worshipped your shining person in secret, how I bask in the radiance of your wholesomely perfect glow, how I.... did you mention _modest_, by any chance?" He rolled his eyes.
"Hey, yeah! Thanks for reminding me. I'm modest too, aren't I? And I never knew you liked me so much, Kaiba." He winked saucily. "I was thinking you might wanna make me your mentor or something. After all, I _am_ naturally perfect, and you're only artificially perfect; you've really gotta work to keep it up."
"You have no idea." Seto responded dryly. That had become a catch phrase for him or something, hadn't it?
Honestly though, the last words couldn't be closer to the truth. Couldn't be farther, either. It was a constant struggle to maintain his lofty facade. He always wore a mask, it seemed. Hurrying to paint over any cracks that might appear in this psychological armor. And yet....
How much more of a struggle would it be to NOT wear his guise of perfection? How would people see him, if he showed them who he truly was? Not the Seto Kaiba they knew, the 16 year old boy genius, CEO, model student who seemed to go through life on ice. Not the supernaturally calm Seto Kaiba, always ready with a snappy remark and stinging rebuke for any that so much as attempted to cross him.
How would they like Seto Kaiba, the 16 year old kid? How would they react at seeing Seto Kaiba, the brother, in his entirety? Last semester, they'd seen a glimpse of him on video, seen that side of him for just a moment. But that wasn't all. Not by any means.
No. Even that hadn't been him. It'd been a demi-him, a hybrid of who he was and who he had once been, unwillingly forced together, creating a superbly uncomfortable creation of ruthlessness and tenderness, cruelty and kindness, coldness and warmth. Poor Mokuba had known who he once was, knew how he was now. That hadn't been either.
Not who he once was. Not who he was. Not who he should have been.
Who were they? He didn't know.
Who was he? He didn't know either.
Gods above, he was so confused.....
It was one of those moments where he would have liked nothing better than curling up on the couch with his journal beside an open window, just relaxing and letting himself become absorbed in inner thought. A moment where he would have liked nothing better than to bury himself under the blankets in his bed, clutch a pillow to his chest, sob brokenly, and taste his own bitter tears. It was one of those moments where he would have liked nothing better than to let an all encompassing rage consume him, and simply DESTROY something, obliterate it so completely and utterly that not even it's ashes remained, to feel raw power at his beck and call, and be in total control. A moment where he would have liked nothing better than to collapse, and become totally, fully submissive, and let other people do everything while he retreated into himself, got away from it all.
.....No, that didn't make very much sense to him, either.
What did he really want?
What he really wanted, was to know what he really wanted. What he really wanted, was to know who and what he was. What he really wanted....
Seto realized they'd been standing there for a minute too long, and roughly grabbed Joey by the collar of his jacket, leveling an irritated glare at him and more or less dragging the poor, bewildered boy towards the school doors. "Stop acting like an idiot, mutt. We're going to be late." In times of better humor, he might've added something along the lines of, "Not that you have to act....", but this wasn't exactly one of those times.
Joey just whimpered a little, glaring back and dragging his heels to try and regain the 'privilege' of walking without being hauled around. Geez, touchy.... Why was he so moody, anyhow? Maybe it was 'his time of the month', if that were possible. The thought made him snicker. But still... "...What'd I do?"
~*~*~*~
It was time for school again, and Seto was sitting quietly at the desk in his room, enjoying the spectacular sunrise from the large window. It was a Monday, and time to go back to school. They'd spent a surprising amount of time together, that Winter Break. Surprising to themselves, at least; shocking to others.
And why wouldn't it be? They were as different as night and day. They clashed, roared, fought like cats in a sack.
Moreover, that was the way they liked it.
Or the way HE liked it; he wasn't sure if Joey enjoyed it or not. He didn't seem to.
They did mundane things together, usually. Watch a movie, go to the mall, duel occasionally. Joey told him that it was an 'educational experience', and apparently wanted him to learn something from these excursions. Specifically, learn how to be human. After all, he had asked to learn, hadn't he?
The sad thing was, he'd only been halfway joking. He really did want to know.
It didn't seem like too much, really. Joey made it seem like interacting with people was the key thing, and he did that often enough. For goodness sake, he interacted with Joey himself often enough, but he was fairly sure that the boy didn't consider him human, even now. They did things together more or less agreeably, sure; they could tolerate each other, in small increments. They even had some bland conversations.
But what they did best, and did most often, was argue.
Bicker, bicker, bicker, back and forth and back again. The banter seldom ceased. Seto was a natural at it; he rather liked having a verbal sparring partner, even one who seemed to be too inept to nettle him most of the time. It was better than nothing; he had nothing to argue about with Mokuba, except in play. That was fun enough. But there was a strange, almost sadistic delight for him in pushing Joey's buttons, a cruel practice that he'd shudder to think of ever doing to Mokuba.
Push him, push him, push him harder. Harder and harder, farther and farther, just to see how he responded and why. It was fascinating. Would he fight back, or submit? Would he bend, or break? Would he be riled or calm? Why, why, why? He really did want to know. He wanted to know how humans responded to things like this. How puppy dogs responded too, because that's what Joey was like, sometimes. Sometimes, he wasn't like a human.
Well, neither was he. Only, for him, it was permanent.
He could push Joey, just push and push, and only occasionally be pushed back. Joey wasn't a delicate crystal figurine. He wasn't a pane of glass. He was a pliable, whippy willow switch, flexible and firm, with just enough give to him to ensure that he'd produce a strong lash once it finally did come. He had to pull back to go on the offensive, like snapping a whip. A preparation, letting the anger fuel the attack. He cracked at the air, more bark than bite, thankfully. Judging by his bluster, if his bite was as big as his bark, then Seto knew he would've been reduced to shreds long before now.
But no, he always fell short. Joey just never managed to give him any lasting hurts, whereas the puppy liked to lick his wounds after each contest of wits. He could almost pity him. As a matter of fact, he did sort of pity him. And that made Joey even madder, since he only spoke of it in jest.
How would Joey feel if he knew it were true? What if he were to speak the words in all seriousness? How would he react to his implacable master throwing him a bone?
Master? It rather amused him to think of the boy as a pet, and he, the master. After all, that did seem to be the way their encounters went; Seto was always, ALWAYS on top. And that was the way it would ALWAYS be. Because he liked being the master. Because he HAD to be the master. There was no other choice, for him; not that he would accept. He'd been the pet, once....
He HAD to be the master. There was just no other way for him to be.
~*~*~*~
Long fingers deftly opened the envelope, shaking out it's contents as long legs carried them towards the school building with unhurried strides. Calm blue eyes surveyed the list, and soon became stormy. "Mutt."
"Yeah?" The blonde raised his head with an annoyed look, having just torn open his own envelope. They were going in together, as they were wont to do, these days.
"Give me your schedule for a minute." The voice was calm, and a little imperious.
"Why should I?" Joey demanded
"Just do it." Without waiting for a response, Seto plucked the sheet from Joey's hands, blue eyes narrowing as he hissed in displeasure.
Joey blinked, yet again minorly weirded out. It was strange, the way that Seto acted sometimes. Feline, almost. If the taller man had possessed a tail, it would have been lashing, then. "What? What IS it, already?" He tried to look on.
Seto handed him back his schedule. "Basic Drama and Theatrics. With _you_."
"You've gotta be kidding me!" He looked at the schedule, groaning. "No way! I SO did not sign up for that class..."
"Neither did I, pooch. It's one of the standard overflow classes, though, for when other electives get too full."
"I still refuse to believe that Intramural Basketball is full."
"Tough luck, pup. You _do_ have to try out for positions on teams like those. I'd signed up for a Business course, myself."
Joey stared at him for a moment, goggle-eyed, before starting to laugh. "You? Taking a business class? Everybody knows that you could _teach_ one of those things!"
"Continued education, mutt." Seto smirked. "Not having it implies that I'm not good at my job. Sort of like you actually making that basketball class would have implied that you had actual talent."
"I do too have talent!" Joey was fuming, now.
"Prove it." The words were crisp and clear. Simple. One of the things they'd done over the break was play basketball, 1 on 1.
"Fine!" Joey apparently didn't care that he'd lost every single game he'd been in against the blue-eyed perfectionist. What mattered was that a couple of the matches had been close enough to give him hope.
"Go ahead, then. We can set up an appointment later." Seto shrugged his bookbag into a more comfortable position on his back.
"Can't you ever do anything without that stupid appointment book of yours? I doubt you even know the meaning of spontaneity. You're more boring than.... I dunno. More boring than bread and water. There is no LIMIT to your boringness. You are the _epitome_ of boredom. All must bow down." Joey said, somewhat snidely.
Seto sighed, the perfect image of a patient, long-suffering soul, with just a hint of wry humor to it. "Ooh, such a large word, pup. Can you handle it? And spontaneity implies acting without prior planning; that's impossible when you're as busy as I am. I DO have a life, you know, unlike yourself."
Joey growled. "Stuff it, Scrooge."
"That's Mr. Scrooge, to you."
"Fine, MR. Scrooge."
"Much better. Show some respect, mongrel."
"I'm NOT a mongrel!"
"Don't be in denial."
"You're the one who's in denial."
"What have I possibly got to deny?"
"That I'm a smart, cool, funny, responsible, respectable, nice, loveable, friendly, and all around AWESOME guy." Joey gushed, grinning lopsidedly. "You just don't have the heart to admit it, because you're _jealous_ of me and my natural perfection."
Seto put on a stunned look, clasped his hands, widened his eyes, and tweaked his voice into a semblance of authenticity. "Oh, YES, Joey! You've read my deepest, darkest, innermost secrets! I was so afraid to tell you; I thought you might laugh at me! I would like to tell you how I've humbly worshipped your shining person in secret, how I bask in the radiance of your wholesomely perfect glow, how I.... did you mention _modest_, by any chance?" He rolled his eyes.
"Hey, yeah! Thanks for reminding me. I'm modest too, aren't I? And I never knew you liked me so much, Kaiba." He winked saucily. "I was thinking you might wanna make me your mentor or something. After all, I _am_ naturally perfect, and you're only artificially perfect; you've really gotta work to keep it up."
"You have no idea." Seto responded dryly. That had become a catch phrase for him or something, hadn't it?
Honestly though, the last words couldn't be closer to the truth. Couldn't be farther, either. It was a constant struggle to maintain his lofty facade. He always wore a mask, it seemed. Hurrying to paint over any cracks that might appear in this psychological armor. And yet....
How much more of a struggle would it be to NOT wear his guise of perfection? How would people see him, if he showed them who he truly was? Not the Seto Kaiba they knew, the 16 year old boy genius, CEO, model student who seemed to go through life on ice. Not the supernaturally calm Seto Kaiba, always ready with a snappy remark and stinging rebuke for any that so much as attempted to cross him.
How would they like Seto Kaiba, the 16 year old kid? How would they react at seeing Seto Kaiba, the brother, in his entirety? Last semester, they'd seen a glimpse of him on video, seen that side of him for just a moment. But that wasn't all. Not by any means.
No. Even that hadn't been him. It'd been a demi-him, a hybrid of who he was and who he had once been, unwillingly forced together, creating a superbly uncomfortable creation of ruthlessness and tenderness, cruelty and kindness, coldness and warmth. Poor Mokuba had known who he once was, knew how he was now. That hadn't been either.
Not who he once was. Not who he was. Not who he should have been.
Who were they? He didn't know.
Who was he? He didn't know either.
Gods above, he was so confused.....
It was one of those moments where he would have liked nothing better than curling up on the couch with his journal beside an open window, just relaxing and letting himself become absorbed in inner thought. A moment where he would have liked nothing better than to bury himself under the blankets in his bed, clutch a pillow to his chest, sob brokenly, and taste his own bitter tears. It was one of those moments where he would have liked nothing better than to let an all encompassing rage consume him, and simply DESTROY something, obliterate it so completely and utterly that not even it's ashes remained, to feel raw power at his beck and call, and be in total control. A moment where he would have liked nothing better than to collapse, and become totally, fully submissive, and let other people do everything while he retreated into himself, got away from it all.
.....No, that didn't make very much sense to him, either.
What did he really want?
What he really wanted, was to know what he really wanted. What he really wanted, was to know who and what he was. What he really wanted....
Seto realized they'd been standing there for a minute too long, and roughly grabbed Joey by the collar of his jacket, leveling an irritated glare at him and more or less dragging the poor, bewildered boy towards the school doors. "Stop acting like an idiot, mutt. We're going to be late." In times of better humor, he might've added something along the lines of, "Not that you have to act....", but this wasn't exactly one of those times.
Joey just whimpered a little, glaring back and dragging his heels to try and regain the 'privilege' of walking without being hauled around. Geez, touchy.... Why was he so moody, anyhow? Maybe it was 'his time of the month', if that were possible. The thought made him snicker. But still... "...What'd I do?"