Disclaimer: Not mine. But I can dream.

Note: I wrote this for a drabble contest-thingy. My first attempt at drabbles. I think I was depressed at the time, but it was an image that I couldn't let go of.
I'd really appreciate some feedback, I have no idea if it worked or not.
Hope so.

Cracking Up.

The main office of Kaiba Corp was silent. No workers buzzed around still, rushing papers from office to office on a fuel of caffeine. Machines still hummed and lights still buzzed but there was none of the busy hustle that usually permeated the building at all hours.
For tonight the only life in the building was hiding its presence in an office on the 10th floor, unknown to the few people who rushed around the streets below sending occasional curious glances up at the silent building.

In his office Seto Kaiba stared at a computer screen fixedly. His thin shoulders hunched as he sat forward in the low chair, the glow of the screen pasting a sickly colour over his skin in the dimly lit room. The fall of rain provided a soft background noise to the stillness, each droplet pounded against the glass windows that bordered the wall behind the figure before sliding away out of sight and into the darkness.
The only movement that indicated he was alive, was the occasional blinking of eyes that seemed uninterested in the screens contents – instead staring off into the past intently.
It had been four long years and still ghosts of the past wouldn't leave him.

A sharp ring cut through his thoughts, viciously enough to make him jump. His gaze darting around the room with a hint of panic before settling on the phone.
Standing with a weary sigh he walked to the window, ignoring the ringing of the phone, tuning out the clicks and beeps of the answer-phone and instead staring out into the gloom that spread out over the city. His features set – cold and expressionless in the reflection that faced him in the glinting surface he stared blankly through.

Only one person would ring that line.

"Seto…pick up the phone……I know you're there."

A young voice broke through the stillness over the ignored phone-line not even getting a flinch of recognition from the still figure.
A sigh sounded, punctuating the unseen boys frustration.

"I know you're there" he repeated,
"You're always there, especially tonight. Seto, come on. This isn't fair – talk to me."

A self-mocking smile broke over the features but he still didn't move.
Another sigh flowed down the line
"I know you probably want to be alone right now, but - He's gone. Its over. Just let it go already…" You could hear fear creeping into the voice, thickly clinging to the words
"Just – come home. Please? …seto? Seto?"
A piercing beep cut the voice off, leaving only a blinking red light flashing wearily on the answer-phone.

Seto laughed bitterly into the deeply silent stillness that settled over the room again.

"This isn't fair"
The words were rough, misery and anger curling into each pronounced syllable. Reaching out a hand he viciously traced the path of one raindrop down the window, the sad trail slicing a path down his pale reflections cheek.

"This. Isn't. Fuckin. Fair."

His eyes narrowed as he stepped back from the window, his hand grasping a heavy object from his desk.
A trophy Mokuba had set at his side last month – carefully inscribed with the words 'for the best elder brother ever'
Pain showed on his face darkly. Resignation, anger and disgust also raising their heads.
With all his strength he threw the trophy against the window, against his own pale reflection, against the darkness of the night.

It was the second time he'd seen the glass in this room crack;
But the first time he'd seen the cracks visibly in himself.