Rebirth
by Ceresi

Rating: R

WARNING: There are spoilers for the HP books in here. I know, it's crazy. Also, slash, and one racy little R scene. ALSO. This is still, for all intents and purposes, a rough draft. I've had it betaed and edited it several times myself, but I'm working on a sequal, and some changes might be necessary.

A/N: Shoutouts to metalsilverarmor23, rayemars, angel_soul03, ashes, and Kato, who commented. Ya'll rock.

Want more notes? See Chapter One

***

By the time that Mokuba finally drug himself home, it was quite dark. He caught his reflection in one of Seto's silver-blue cars and scowled threateningly. His hair was spiky and weird from the rain, or at least, spikier and weirder than normal. His clothes were rumpled, not on quite right -- anyone with half a brain would realize he'd been fooling around. And it was almost midnight.

Seto was gonna kill him.

His cell phone gave a little beep. Mokuba dug it out of his pocket and turned on the light, reading Daisuke's text message aloud to himself. "Guess what I'm doing right now . . ." He rolled his eyes.

That'll make you go blind, you know.

Another beep. "That would be a shame."

Besides, you're supposed to wait till I'm there.

"Well, I'm remembering when you . . ." Mokuba smirked, flushing. It sounded so much dirtier when it was written down. He read the rest of the message silently, trying not to giggle.

He had to stop reading and hold onto the phone with one hand as he climbed the gate. He swore as his sleeve caught and the phone clattered to the pavement -- he had to focus to free himself. When he finally managed to jump down (and roll a few feet when he tripped -- those damn pants) he searched the ground for it. It fell to my left, didn't it? So it should be . . . .

Right where his brother's shoes were.

Mokuba jerked his head up. "Seto!"

Seto cocked an eyebrow. This was what Mokuba affectionately called the Silence of Death. Seto was the only person Mokuba knew who could make quiet so threatening -- at worst, Mokuba was in for a grounding and a lecture, but he was still intimidated as hell.

Finally, Seto spoke. "It's midnight, you realize."

"Maybe your watch is fast," Mokuba tried feebly. "I could have sworn it was only ten . . ."

"Two hours fast?"

"Stranger things have happened."

Unamused, Seto said, "Mokuba, you're two hours past curfew."

Mokuba contritely turned his eyes downwards. "I'm sorry," he said. Unable to help himself, he peeked. Seto wasn't impressed.

He looked back down. "We were playing video games," he lied. "I was winning! Aw, come on, Seto! Daisuke's my rival as much as Yugi was yours. Like you never got a little distracted when you were beating him."

"Funny that you should bring that up," Seto said dryly. "Because I only beat him once. And I wasn't 'distracted' at all."

Mokuba flushed. Okay, so, rumpled clothes. Of course Seto would figure it out.

"That doesn't matter," Seto continued firmly. "You're two hours late either way. So, you'll be grounded for two months."

"Two months!"

Seto gave him his coldest look, the one he was fond of using on business partners who thought they could double-cross him. Mokuba just gaped. Two months?! Had anyone ever been grounded for two months? That was inhumane! Unreal!

Seto uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the door. "Go to bed," he ordered.

Mokuba forced himself to stop staring. Surely Seto would be more reasonable in the morning. And if not . . . well, Mokuba was resourceful. He'd just have to be careful about not getting caught. In fact, if he looked at it the right way, it was nothing more than a challenge.

"All right," he grumped, looking around at the ground. "Where's my phone? I dropped it."

Seto held it up. "I'll keep ahold of it," he said. "You won't be using it."

Mokuba paled at the threat -- and then reddened as he remembered the last message he'd been sent. "Uh, Seto, that's kind of cruel . . ."

"Good."

"But . . ."

With an expression that would book no argument, Seto switched off the phone and pocketed it, all without glancing at it. Mokuba nearly fell over with relief.

"Go." Seto ordered.

Mokuba scowled at him and ran inside.


Seto watched him dart off, then glanced at his pocket with a dark expression. Maybe two months had been a little harsh. But the message on that thing when he picked it up . . . ! Mokuba was only fifteen!

Two months, he vowed to himself. And this way, I don't have to worry about an attack on his life.

***

The maid set a plate of eggs in front of the youngest Kaiba as he sat. "How are you this morning, Mokuba?"

Mokuba gave an unhappy grunt. "Mrs. Kamazaki, do you know if anything happened last night to make my brother angry?"

She blinked, wiping her hands on her apron. "Hm. Well . . ." She fixed him with a kind, if stern, eye. "I hear that you came tromping in three hours past curfew, young man. That would probably do it."

Mokuba began building an egg tower. "I was only two hours late. And I think he was in a bad mood before that, though."

"Probably business, my dear." She shrugged at his curious glance. "You'll have to ask him. All I know is what the newspapers tell me."

"What do they tell you?"

"Rumors about goings-on in Egypt." This obviously didn't ring a bell with Mokuba. He looked at her quizzically, but she only shrugged and said, "Nothing worth repeating." To distract him, she forked over some bacon -- Mokuba tore into it greedily and she chuckled. "Slow down, youngster, slow down, it's not going anywhere."

"Mmph not an ungster," Mokuba mumbled. At her austere frown, he crammed in some eggs. " 'ittle kids cont eaf so uch. Shee?" He grinned messily and she swatted at him with her towel.

About ten minutes later -- shortly after Mokuba finally managed to swallow that first mouthful -- Seto entered the dining room. He was already dressed for work, in a white dress shirt and black slacks, his black trench coat thrown over his arm.

Mokuba barely glanced up, already wondering how to get his phone back. Halfway through the meal, Mokuba decided to go with the blunt approach. "Hey, Seto?"

Seto looked up from where he was pushing food around his plate. "Yes?"

"Can I have my phone back?"

Seto gave him a look.

"Aw, come on, big brother. That's mean."

"Glad to know it's working, then."

Mrs.Kamazaki glanced at him reproachfully even as she gave him more bacon. "If you break the rules, you get in trouble. You should be happy that you have your brother to look out for you."

"I agree," Seto said. Under Mrs. Kamazaki's reproachful eye, he took a quick bite of toast.

I'm just worried about what will happen if Seto turns the phone on and Daisuke texts him.

"You did break curfew," Mrs. Kamazaki added. "I think a little punishment is in order."

"Absolutely brilliant." Seto tossed the rest of his toast in the trash can when she wasn't watching.

"Traitor," Mokuba groused at the maid. "You were on my side a few minutes ago."

She gave him a haughty look and poured a glass of orange juice. "Now drink this up, and go on to school."

Seto added, without looking up, "Come right home. If you don't, a bodyguard will accompany you to your classes tomorrow."

Mokuba scowled, irritated that Seto thought he was so stupid. "Tomorrow's Saturday."

"Yes," Seto deadpanned. "You'll be lonely at school all by yourself. Consider that incitement."

Mokuba narrowly avoided what Daisuke called flouncing as he left the room. Narrowly.