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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Once again I am posting Chapters 13 & 14 together. They offer contrasting narratives by Yami and Kaiba. Further Author's Notes and Responses to Reviews will be at the end of Chapter 14.

CHAPTER 13: AFTERMATH

YAMI'S NARRATIVE

"You bastard! I hate you!" Mokuba howled at me, like a miniature, but equally ferocious version of his older brother. "Why'd you do that to him? Don't you know how hard he tries to bury that shit? Now you've gone and made him relive it!"

"But it's not buried. You know that, Mokuba. And he relives it every night." I replied gently. The boy's face crumpled as he pitched forward into my arms, seeking the comfort I would have given the world to be able to offer his brother. But Kaiba was still lying inert on the bed, his shallow breaths the only sign of life.

"Hush, it'll be alright," I murmured into Mokuba's tangled hair.

"You should be taking care of him, not me." Mokuba accused, even as he snuggled more closely against my chest. "Maybe I am just a weakling that always needs defending,"

"You've got it backwards, Mokuba. Seto doesn't protect you because you're weak. He does it because he needs to. As much as he refuses to admit it, he's only human – and that means he needs some warmth and hope in his life. He needs something to cling to, and someone to care about -- someone who loves him in return."

Hugging Mokuba was like cradling the mainstay of Seto's heart. To see what was really vital to him, one had only to look at his little brother. Mokuba was open, playful, giving and loving – all the traits Seto affected to scorn. But the true measure of their importance was the lengths to which he had gone to save those qualities for his brother, even as he sacrificed them in himself.

"It's all my fault." Mokuba wailed. "If it wasn't for me, he would never have been with our adoptive father in the first place."

"I'm not so sure." I replied. "I think they were destined to meet. And if it wasn't for you, Seto might have chosen a more permanent way to deny Gozaburo his prize. You and your promises helped keep him alive."

"What if they're not enough?"

"He'll be all right. It'll all be okay," I repeated as I carried him to the couch.

But, despite my words, I felt the weight of my promise to Mokuba, as I let the boy sob in my lap, crying the tears his brother could not shed.

"Everyone thinks I just follow Nisama blindly, thinking everything he does is great. But that's not true," he said, whispering, although there was no sign Kaiba could hear us. "I don't love him despite what he's done, but because of it. Everyone looks at how he was as proof that he's cold and cruel. But all I can see is how much he loved me -- he was willing to give up everything, even his soul for me, as much in this house, as at Pegasus' Castle."

It was only after Mokuba had finally cried himself to sleep, that Kaiba spoke.

"Why did I do it?"

He spoke as if I had been a part of whatever internal dialog he had been holding, but his question was incomprehensible to me.

"Was I trying to save Mokuba or trying to show Gozaburo that I wasn't a weakling like my brother?"

"You were protecting him Seto,"

"He was crying and I wouldn't even look at him."

"You didn't want to remind Gozaburo of Mokuba's presence. Gods, Seto -- you set your own arm on fire to distract him!"

I was puzzled. I had been shocked by the scene I had witnessed: by the depth of Kaiba's self-loathing and the implacability of his resolve. But I never doubted for a moment that Kaiba had been desperately trying to protect his brother. If I could see this so clearly, why was he confused?

He stared at me with empty blue eyes. "You saw what I was. You shattered my heart. You gave me a chance to become something more. But you still don't understand – I was dead inside. I may have started out treating my own brother like a stray dog to protect him, but I came to believe it."

"Did you ever stop to think that if you had held on to your true feelings, Gozaburo would have used Mokuba against you as ruthlessly as Pegasus did? The only way to protect him was to let go of your love for him. Mokuba understands what you gave up. He honors you for it."

"That's his problem."

"Mokuba's forgiven you. When will you forgive yourself?"

"How can I forgive myself when I can't remember what I've done or why?"

"I remember little of being pharaoh," I suddenly answered. "Look at all the people who have had grudges against me from that past life. And I have never known if they were justified of not."

I had simply wanted to show him that he was not alone in his doubts. But my words caught his attention, as if he listened for what I had left unsaid. I realized then that my belief in myself was actually borrowed from Yugi. He was the one who believed in me unreservedly. It was past time to find out if I shared his faith. So I spoke of learning to use my heart as a mirror for my past, trusting that I was, and always had been, the same person, regardless of the age of the world I inhabited. I continued talking, struggling through my uncertainties, my words halting now -- until for the first time, I reached Yugi's certainty for myself; made it my own. And in the end, I was the one who was comforted.

"What will you do now?" he asked.

"The same as you. Believe in myself."

Almost involuntarily, he shook his head in denial. I embraced him, fondled him, as if my caresses could reach where my words could not. "I believe in you, Seto. If you can't believe in your own heart, then trust in mine."