I think, in future I will only upload finished stories(thinks a moment)sheesh, then I would be uploading only once or twice a year-nah, better the common way…
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"To the left, a neuro-cardial research center,
with the most advanced equipment, including it's own technical
laboratory. Straight ahead, the combined day-care ward/dining room, and
the entire second floor will contain mostly patient's rooms and nurse
offices, and the two top floors will be desinged especially for PR,
complete with sauna, swimming pool and gym hall."
Again, the audience roared it's applause, twice as loud even, when
Kaiba politely, but feverishly refused, to have a memorial plate with
his name installed.
Basking in the admiration of the people, he entered his limo and drove back to the Kaiba Corp. building.
For a while, all was quiet, and then Mokuba, who had been with him all the time, asked hesitantly:
"So, why don't you let them put up the bronze plate, huh? I mean, it
would have only been just, to let everyboy know, what you've done for
those kids, ne?"
His elder brother smirked.
"Believe me, Mokuba, I have already memorized myself within that
building, in a way, which fits me far better than some cheap metal
ornament ever could."
It was the truth, he had the architect to put his sign on every single
floor in the entire hospital. The strange golden lines joining in the
center of each room read, if shrunk to regular size, the letter 'K' for
Kaiba. But since the letter were equal to each room's dimensions,
chances were scarce, anyone would notice.
And even if, what could they do about it?
Mokuba blinked a few times at Seto's explanations, then shook his head and laughed:
"Nii-san, you're incredible!"
Seto's smile grew wider.
"Yes, I fully agree on that."
The next week, newspapers were
filled with pictures and comments about Kaiba's generousity, his desk
was flooded with thank-you cards, invitations honorations and, of
course, fan post. Sighing, he systematically sorted them out, most of
them would be answered by his secretary, if at all.
The few important ones, he had to deal with personally wandered on his
desk, before he went in search for some much needed coffee. All in all,
he was rather pleased with himself, not only was hospital founding
totally tax-deductable, but it had also raised people's opinion about
him, and flushed out a few rather promising business partners and
clients.
Seto walked into the kitchen and frowned, when he saw his outoto buried chest-deep inside the large fridge.
Crossing his arms, he asked sternly:
"What have I told you about snacking between the meals, Mokuba?"
Raven locks shot up and grey-blue eyes widened in realization, making
Seto smirk inwardly, at the cute picture the pre-teen involuntarily
gave:
In his left, he held packages of rice snacks and yokan, his right
clutched a can of soda, and his mouth was crammed full with appeared to
be either a thuna sandwich, or a huge chunk of fried tofu.
Cocking a brow, Seto tsked disapprovingly.
"It appears, you have been spending time with Yugi and his friends, particularly the mutt, again, ne?"
Mokuba wanted to defend himself, but then remembered, that it was
impolite, to speak with you mouth full, besides, it would have been
useless to deny the truth: he did spend time with the 'pathetic bunch of losers' as his brother called them.
So, instead, of replying, the dark-haired boy pointed to the kitchen
counter. Seto's eyes followed his finger, and then his heart leapt into
his throath. How had that particular letter gotten down here?
And why did it upset him so much? It was not like it was something
extraordinary special, although the writing was beautiful, and the
paper the kind of wich he would have chosen himself, if he had to write
a letter of such a personal matter.
Outside as cool and regal as
always, the elder Kaiba crossed the kitchen and picked up the sheet,
inspecting it from all sides, before turning a questioning glance at
Mokuba.
His brother had finally managed to bite off and swallow a piece of his sandwich, and answered:
"I've no idea how, but when I got home, it was in one of the inside
pockets of my jacket. Must have happened, when I was at the arcade
with-my schoolmates", he ended lamely, not really wanting to confess,
that he had met Jou, Honda, Anzu, Otogi and Yugi at the ice-cream
parlor.
Seto cocked a brow, then smirked.
So obviously, one of the Yugi gang had the hots for him, huh? His mind
instantly cross-checked the personalities and abilites of each member,
and decided, that it was most probably Yugi's alter ego, Yami, who had
sent him those lines.
Choosing a steak knife, he slid the blade underneath the clasp, and ripped open the enveloppe.
His long fingers nimbly took out and unfolded the paper, blue eyes scanning across the page.
And then Seto's gaze filled with hatred, as he reread the poem again.
He threw the letter on the floor, before turning on the heel, hissing:
"That little, no-good, self-sufficient..bastard!"
Mokuba stared puzzled at the slightly swinging door, his brother had
just stormed out, then went over and picked up the letter.
His eyes widened, whe he read, what had caused Seto's anger:
Who is it that says most, which can say more,
Than this rich praise, that you alone, are you?
In those confine immuréd is the store,
Which should example where your equal grew.
Lean penury within that pen doth dwell,
That to this subject lends not some small glory,
But he that writes of you, if he can tell,
That you are you, so dignifies his story.
Let him but copy what in you is writ,
Not making worse what nature made so clear,
And such a counterpart shall fame his wit,
Making his style admiréd every where.
You to your beauteous blessings add a curse,
Being fond of praise, which makes your praises worse.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Keep moving, keep moving, just ignore my lil' comments…