Story: Afternoon Memories||Chapter: Success and Satisfaction
Characters: Mokuba, Yami no Bakura, Seto, Bakura
Chapters: 3-3||Words: 5,223||Total: 14,567
Genre: Family, Friendship||Rated: PG-13
Summary: Mokuba is stuck alone waiting for his brother to come get him. The Spirit of the Millennium Ring has plans to use that to his advantage.
Kaiba watched as the mechanic finished off the job, his cold blue eyes boring a hole in the man's back. His gaze hadn't lifted for a moment since the work had begun, and he saw no reason for that to change now that it was over with. In his experience, you could get bad service just as easily after things were completed as you could before, and he wasn't in the mood for something like that.
"That should be everything," the worker got up, brushing his hands off. "I hope you're satisfied, sir." There wasn't a trace of sarcasm in his voice, and that was all to the good. If there had been, the repercussions would've been intense.
The CEO glanced once at the wheel, then pulled his wallet out and removed a few bills. "Here, this should cover it. Keep any change." Without bothering to look at the mechanic again, he slid back into the back seat and leaned back. "Get over to my brother's school. Now."
Arakaki stifled a sigh as he nodded slightly to the mechanic. Welcome to the world of working for the Kaibas. Occasional benefits. Mostly ulcers. Big ones. He started the limousine and carefully headed on out of the parking lot, checking to see the time. He winced just a little; Kaiba was going to be nearly an hour late picking up Mokuba. He was glad he didn't work at the mansion. He had a feeling things were going to be a trifle tense there tonight.
"I would've done just about anything for Amane." Bakura wished he had brought along the one picture he had of her, but that stayed safe in his photo album at home. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd looked at it. Maybe on her birthday? It might've been. It wasn't that he didn't want to remember her, far from it. But it was easier living with the memories if he didn't have something physical to stare at that was her.
"I know the feeling." Mokuba nodded quickly, eyes bright with thoughts of Seto. "Having a brother or sister is the greatest!"
"I didn't think so all the time when I was little, though." Bakura smiled faintly, thinking of when his parents had first brought her home. Like so many new older brothers, his first and only question at the time had been Can you take her back? "I liked being an only child back then. But I got used to her."
Mokuba tilted his head slightly to the side, thinking. "I don't think Seto ever wanted me to not be there. At least he never told me if he didn't. I can't imagine him not being there, though."
"I'd say that's the way it is when you're the younger one." Bakura smiled a little, stretching himself out on the grass. He could feel the Ring shifting a little under his shirt and tried to subtly put one hand to adjust it without Mokuba noticing. He knew the Kaiba didn't actually talk that much to Yuugi and his friends, but his orders had been not to let anyone know about it, no matter what. It wasn't as if they were optional orders, either.
He closed his eyes slightly, wondering when Mokuba would ask what had happened to Amane. Maybe he wouldn't; that would be a little rude, after all, and while his big brother had never cared about what manners he showed to anyone else, Mokuba was almost the opposite. Maybe I should just tell him. It would be the first time he'd talked about what had happened in a long time. Maybe ever. He knew that Mokuba wanted to know, though. It wouldn't hurt to satisfy his curiosity.
"It happened a few years ago." Before I got the Ring. He touched it lightly, not even thinking about it when he did. His life was divided into Before The Ring and After The Ring. "We didn't live here, then, we lived in Tokyo, in the Yamagata district. Amane and I were both born there, actually. Father was away a lot, like he still is, on archaeological expeditions. Mother took care of us, though. She was even teaching me how to cook. She wanted to go back to school once we were both old enough to take care of ourselves, and maybe try to be a professional chef. She was the best cook I've ever known, really." Just the thought of some of the things she used to cook made his mouth water. Maybe he could try to fix one of her recipes tonight. It wouldn't hurt.
Mokuba nodded, turning slightly to face him. "She sounds like a really nice lady. Wish I could meet her." He could just barely remember his mother, if he thought hard enough about it.
"So do I." Bakura closed his eyes just for a second, then opened then, staring up at the crystal-blue sky. "But that's kind of part of this story, too. On why you can't. It was almost my birthday that year. It was going to be the best one I'd ever had, I just knew it. Father was even home. One of the few times I can remember him being home for my birthday, or hers, really. Mother wanted to get some things for my birthday dinner. She was going to take Amane and I with her to the store."
His fingers brushed through the grass, and he was aware that the Spirit was paying attention as well. His dark tenant knew all of this, since he'd ransacked Bakura's thoughts frequently over the years they'd been together, but he'd never heard Bakura telling it himself. The odds were he'd be mocked for it, but he wasn't going to stop. This was what the Spirit had wanted, anyway.
"I was watching something on television, though, something I didn't want to stop. She couldn't wait, the store would be closing soon, and there wasn't anywhere else that had what she wanted. So she left me with Father at the apartment, and took Amane with her."
She shouldn't have been gone long. The store wasn't really that far away. They could've walked, but his mother hadn't been certain how much she was actually going to be getting. Something to carry things in could well have been necessary. So, the small car was taken.
Mokuba listened, fascinated, as Bakura kept on talking, both of them caught in the story weaving. "I'd finished watching my program, and Father was telling me all about his latest trip. It started to get dark, but Mother and Amane didn't come back. It got later and later, and still, nothing. Then there was a knock at the door, and Father went, telling me just to stay where I was. It was probably Mother and Amane, after all, with some really wild story about why they were late. Nothing to get worked up about."
He tightened his grip on a few blades of grass, not taking his eyes from the sky. "But it wasn't. It was a police officer. Someone had been driving drunk, and lost control of his car, just as they were coming out of the store. They died on impact." Bakura did his best to keep his voice under control, trying so hard not to let a scrap of emotion get through. He could do this. He'd done it before, more times than he had ever wanted to recall.
A light hand touched his arm, and he turned to see Mokuba looking at him, gray eyes full of a concern he hadn't seen in years. "Saying I'm sorry isn't going to do anything," the boy spoke with wisdom beyond his years. Maybe that was a Kaiba trait, to be older than you should be. "I wish I could've met them so I'd understand how you feel. I miss my parents sometimes, too."
He really hoped Mokuba didn't try and say something about still having his father or friends. Somehow, he didn't think he would, and his trust was upheld as the smaller boy just smiled a touch at him and leaned back. I wish I could tell him the rest of it. How Father kept going on more and more expeditions after that, and left me with baby-sitters until I was about ten or so. That was when he brought me the Ring, and I wasn't ever alone after that. At least not in the mental sense. Not that he knew. But somehow after that gift, his father had let him live by himself more and more often. And shortly after that, the whole situation with his friends falling into comas had started up, and he'd begun to move more and more frequently, until he'd ended up here in Domino.
A sort of comfortable silence fell between the two of them. Bakura had never been one to talk all that much in the first place, and Mokuba didn't seem to have anything to say either for a while. The younger glanced at his watch a little, then at his cell phone.
"I should call Seto and see if he knows when he'll be here." He didn't actually move for the cell, though. Seto could get a little irritable if he were pestered too much, even if it were Mokuba doing it. He knew better than to press the generous limits being each other's only acknowledged family gave them.
Bakura nodded slightly, wondering what he'd be doing after Mokuba was on his way home. Yet another evening of homework and dinner, more than likely, unless the Spirit had other plans. Hopefully nothing more Kaiba-related would be involved. The more he thought about what the elder boy would probably say in this situation was starting to weigh more and more on his mind. It would not be something he wanted to hear, he feared.
"You know...I'm hungry!" Mokuba sat up suddenly, looking at the pale-haired teen. "Seto usually has some kind of snack waiting in the limo when he gets me, but who knows when that's going to be today." He'd also thought about calling wherever it was that was supposed to be fixing Seto's car, and seeing if they'd actually done it yet. They'd be easier to deal with than his brother if he were in a mood.
"So am I," Bakura sat up, brushing grass away from himself. "It's a little early for anything really heavy, but I could go for a few cream puffs."
Mokuba shuddered, making an exaggerated disgusted face. "No way. I want a chocolate parfait." His eyes almost seemed to gleam with desire for one. "Those things are the greatest!"
"They're all right, I suppose," Bakura shrugged, thinking of the delicious filling of his favorite food. Somewhere in the back of his mind, someone else was even more disgusted than Mokuba, and he caught a mental image of an extremely rare steak. So rare he almost imagined it to be mooing. That wasn't what he'd wanted to think about. Much less find the Spirit thinking about.
"There's a place not that far from here that makes the best parfaits ever!" Mokuba looked ready to run down there right away. "I think it has cream puffs too, but I've never really noticed. What are they like?"
Bakura closed his eyes, quite nearly purring as he imagined his mother's cream puffs. He had to make some now when he got home. Or get some before then. The thought had latched itself firmly into his mind. "They're delicious. The filling inside almost always splatters over your face when you bite into one. Mother used to tell me that's why my hair is like this, because I love cream puffs so much. My hair grew in to match them."
Mokuba laughed, reaching over to tug lightly on one of the spikes. "I don't know, aren't cream puffs supposed to be soft?" As his hand touched the hair, he blinked a little at just how soft it really was. "Well, then again..." He pulled his hand away quickly, then suddenly got to his feet. "It's Seto!" Indeed, the limosuine was turning the corner and coming closer. Mokuba bounced up and down on his heels, grabbing his things and preparing to head for home.
Bakura sighed briefly to himself. It looked as if this interesting little interlude was over with. For a while, it had been nice to talk to someone without having to worry too much about the Spirit taking over and trying to trap a soul in a card or anything else in an attempt to get some shiny gold thing. Sure, he was just here because of the Spirit's insistence, but spending time with Mokuba wasn't all that bad. He was a really cute kid. So cute that it was probably illegal just for him to exist. He couldn't imagine someone that the Spirit would want to be around less.
The limousine's door swung open, and the elder Kaiba stepped out, his frosty gaze scanning the area as if expecting some kind of trouble to burst in out of thin air. At least his attention rested on his brother, just before Mokuba wrapped his arms around Seto's waist and hugged him with all the strength in his small body.
"Glad to see you, big brother!" Mokuba stared up at him, eyes sparkling joyfully. "Everything okay now?"
"I've had to put back a couple of meetings but nothing I can't handle." Seto's attention landed briefly on Bakura as the other boy got to his feet, brushing away the grass quickly. "Have you been all right?"
Mokuba nodded quickly, stepping back some. "Bakura came and kept me company." He looked back at the pale haired teen, an unspoken agreement flaring between them that the situation with the idiots would be kept between the two of them. "We were both getting kind of hungry, Seto. Think we can stop at the sweet shop on the way home? I want a chocolate parfait and Bakura wants some cream puffs!"
Bakura found himself flushing lightly as Kaiba's gaze landed back on him appraisingly. He had never really gotten to know the CEO, nor did he want to, but seeing that diamond-like gaze on him was disconcerting no matter what. Mokuba can't really want me to go along with them, can he?
"All right." Seto nodded slightly, looking back at his brother. "If you insist, Mokuba."
"Then we can give him a ride home. It's the least we can do after he went out of his way to stay with me." Mokuba grinned slightly, tugging his brother closer to the limosuine. "We had a lot of fun, too. Maybe if you're late again, he can stay with me then, too?"
Seto stared down at him, the blue ice of his eyes glinting just a little in the afternoon sunlight. "I have no intentions of ever being late again, little brother."
"So? You've got to work kind of late sometimes, too. He could keep me company then. Come on, Seto, we can't avoid everyone in the world!" Mokuba was very, very good at getting the things he wanted, especially from Seto. Bakura decided it was time he said something about this.
"I wouldn't mind keeping you company, Mokuba, but I do have things I have to do sometimes." He knew if he didn't keep at least part of his schedule clear, he'd find himself answering to more people than he wanted to about why he wasn't somewhere he'd said he'd be. The Spirit refused to let anything as meaningless as what Bakura needed to do get in the way of his plans.
Seto eyed him coolly, unknown and unknowable thoughts going on behind his eyes, then turned to the car. "Be that as it may, Mokuba has invited you to that sweet shop, and I don't suppose I can be much later than I'm already going to be."
Get moving, host. This is better than I'd hoped. Bakura didn't wait around for the spirit, or Kaiba, to say anything else. He just grabbed his school bag and quietly followed the Kaiba into the back of the limousuine. This afternoon was turning into something more than he'd thought it would. As long as he didn't get invited home for dinner, things would be all right. He wanted to curl up by himself in his comfortable room, a hot cup of tea in one hand and the latest edition of one of his gaming magazines in the other, and try to digest everything that had happened that day.
Once they were all in the back seat, Seto ordered the driver to take them to the sweet shop. "And don't be all day about it." He grumbled by habit. "Mokuba, what kind of homework do you have to do tonight?"
"Not a whole lot. I could probably do it on the way home, really." Mokuba thought about asking if Bakura could come stay for a while, but he could see a bit of tenseness about both of them. Maybe he should take things a little more slowly, at least for now. Besides, he had no idea if Bakura himself would even want to spend more time around both of them. Seto did have kind of a reputation, a very well deserved one.
"No." Seto shook his head commandingly. "It's better for you if you do it at home."
As Mokuba started to protest, Bakura just watched in surprise. Never in all his life would he have imagined to be listening to something like this. Kaiba sounded just like a normal person, not an arrogant champion duelist, hell-bent on protecting what was his from anything and everything that would harm it. Don't get used to it, he reminded himself carefully. This won't last, and it isn't even something you're finding out because you wanted to. Of course he still enjoyed knowing it anyway. He couldn't think of anyone who wouldn't have.
"We're at the sweet shop, sir," the driver said, carefully pulling the vehicle into a parking spot. "What did you want me to bring back?"
Mokuba had the door open before the question had even been finished. "Don't worry about it, we're going in ourselves this time. Just get comfortable, we might be a little while." He had Seto out of the car in a heartbeat, with Bakura following quietly. Bakura wondered if he'd actually heard the chauffer sighing in relief as the door closed behind him.
There were a few other people from their school scattered here and there among the patrons, Bakura noticed as they walked inside. A few of them whispered among themselves, especially when Mokuba asked him, "Are you sure you don't want to try a parfait, Bakura? They're really good."
He was quite certain he was blushing the deepest shade of red possible. It might even turn his hair red if it got any deeper. "No, thank you, Mokuba, not today." He made what escape he could, heading over to where the pastries were. There was no way to escape Mokuba's voice, though. The younger Kaiba was always so glad to be around his brother, he seldom bothered with hiding that joy. Today was absolutely no exception.
"What are you going to get, Seto?" Mokuba wanted to know, heading over to the counter where one of their other classmates worked dispensing drinks and other things. Bakura recognized her vaguely; she had had a crush on him when he'd first arrived at Domino. Her name was Miho, though most people called her Ribbon, due to the yellow ribbon in her hair. Honda had crushed on her for a while as well, too, but that hadn't ever really gone anywhere. He kind of hoped she wouldn't ask what he was doing here with the Kaibas. An honest answer wasn't possible, and he couldn't think enough at the moment to come up with something dishonest.
He winced slightly, almost expecting a comment from the Spirit on that, but nothing came. He decided not to complain; maybe his unwanted companion was taking a nap or something?
You can realize how pathetic you are without me pointing it out every time.
Or not.
"I'm not going to be getting anything other than a soda. I have other things to do than stuff my face, Mokuba." If he were talking to anyone else, that would have sounded harsh and cold. Instead, it's just a simple statement of fact. Maybe a little more distant than most people would say it, but still, it wasn't what anyone in earshot was expecting to hear.
"Wonder what he's doing here. I've seen his chauffer in a few times, but I've never seen him." Bakura could hear someone whispering behind his back, and kept his attention focused on selecting just the right cream puffs. He had a feeling he'd be bothered about this at some time or other, and he'd rather it wasn't now. Not with the Kaibas actually there to see it happen. Kaiba himself wouldn't care, and Mokuba could maybe make more of a deal out of it than it really was.
"He's not doing anything but getting some snacks for his brother," a second voice spoke up a little scornfully. "You guys always want to make a mountain out of a molehill."
"Oh, really? Then what're they doing with Bakura?" Not his day. Not his day at all.
"So? Last I checked, even Kaiba could have friends." The second voice sounded even more scornful this time around. "Even weird ones like Bakura." Bakura wasn't sure if he wanted to turn around and see who that was. People had been turned into game figurines for less than that kind of comment.
He didn't bother waiting around to hear the rest of the conversation, just folded the bag over and headed to the counter to pay for his purchases. Whatever made them happy to think was fine by him. He'd always know the truth, and they'd be glad to not have known it if they did. The logic was a little screwy, but he was convinced it made sense.
"There's an empty booth." Mokuba seemed to have calmed down some, and Bakura sent up a little mental prayer of gratitude. The hyperness could've been a bit stressful if it had gone on much longer. Though with the size of the parfait in his grasp, it could still get much, much worse. The dreaded phrase sugar rush wandered through his mind.
The two Kaibas sat down side by side, Bakura taking the other side. The small silence between them all was filled with the quiet sounds of sucking, chewing, and swallowing for several minutes. Seto took a long pull of his drink, then pinned Bakura with that cold gaze once more.
"Was there some reason you went to my brother's school, when I know it's not anywhere near where you live? I know you heard what I said to Jounouchi about not wanting him around Mokuba. What would make you think you'd be any different?" There was so much ice around the words Bakura wondered if he'd get frostbite. He also wondered what he was going to have to answer with.
Luckily, that was taken out of his hands. Or rather, out of his mouth. "Well, since Jounouchi and I are entirely different, and I'm not nearly as prone to trouble-attraction as Jounouchi is, I thought it might be a good idea for someone to keep an eye on him." The Spirit imitated his shy tones flawlessly.
Kaiba snorted contemptously. "What would you have been able to do if something had come up?" His eyes raked coolly across Bakura, taking into account the other's slight frame and almost too-fragile-to-be-believed looks.
"I have my ways." The dark spirit smiled craftily, one hand dropping out of sight to casually caress the deck that rested in the jacket pocket. Bakura closed his mental eyes, thinking of all the nights he'd spent refining the deck, especially once the Spirit had come into his life. If it hadn't been for Amane, he might not have even had one to start with, really. The very last birthday present she'd ever gotten him, for the first of his birthdays that she would never see, had been his very first set of Duel Monsters cards.
Maybe that's why I decided to make this an occult deck. The thought of saying thank you to her, or at least just to say something to her, was seldom far from his mind. Though he was pretty certain that the Spirit had had some influence on his choice of deck as well, since he played it even better than Bakura himself did.
Kaiba didn't look as if he were all that convinced of what had been said, however. He just shrugged in the end, finishing off his drink. "I suppose I owe you a small favor of sorts. Just don't expect much from it."
Bakura could sense a hint or two of triumph from the other. This was what he'd wanted? This didn't make any kind of sense.
The other kept on speaking with his voice, however. "I can't really think of anything I'd need, but if there ever is anything, I suppose I could let you know." He even sounded doubtful about it! Oh, he was good. He also slid back from control, letting Bakura pick up another of his cream puffs and bite into it as if nothing at all had happened.
Almost as if to break the tension that had sprung up, cream squirted out, decorating Bakura's face comically. Mokuba laughed, the clear, high, pleased laughter of an innocent child, something Bakura had almost forgotten could exist. It was nice to hear it, to remember that not everything in the universe was twisted to darkness. Bakura grabbed for the nearest tissue, wiping at his face frantically. Why did this have to happen? Just when things looked almost as if he were going to get out of this with something that resembled dignity, and maybe even a little pride! Kaiba didn't know, after all, that the calm, cool, and collected Bakura he'd just spoken to wasn't the real one.
He dropped the tissue, hoping he'd gotten it all, and put what was left of the cream puff back in the bag. That was why he'd always preferred to eat them at home, where he could get himself as messy as he wanted to and wouldn't have to worry about being seen. Or about who might be seen with him. He didn't have to look up to feel Kaiba's disapproving gaze on him, but he quite nearly jumped out of his skin when the taller teen reached across the table to wipe at his nose.
"You missed a spot." Kaiba said gruffly, dabbing another couple of times before putting the napkin down. Bakura's blush burned in his cheeks as he looked away, unable to remember the last time anyone had touched his face with anything that even resembled the faintest hint of kindness. And for it to be Kaiba of all people...the world hadn't started spinning in reverse or something of that nature, had it? Everything else was going on normally...
Mokuba got to his feet a few silent minutes later. "I think we need to get on home, Seto. You do have those meetings, right? And I've got homework, and I bet Bakura does too."
"Right." Bakura stood up as he spoke, as did Kaiba, and all three headed for the door. The whispers strengthened slightly, along with a few giggles from some of the stranger girls, but all of that faded as the door closed behind them.
Once they were back in the limosuine, Kaiba tapped briefly on his laptop for a few moments, then looked at the driver, giving directions to the apartment building where Bakura lived. "We'll drop our guest off there, then go on home." His fingers danced gracefully over the keyboard again as he rescheduled the meetings he'd had to go to for a later date. He intended to spend the rest of the day with Mokuba, making up for what time they'd lost earlier. At least things hadn't been so bad since he'd picked his brother up. The most annoying event had been when Bakura's cream puff had decorated him. It was a little amusing in retrospect, but at the time, the only thought on the businessman's mind had been that anyone who was spending any time with him, for any reason should look their best.
Bakura said very little as the long vehicle swung through the afternoon streets. A sort of languor lay over him, and he made only the barest comments necessary to respond to either Mokuba or Kaiba whenever they spoke to him. He hoped he'd have the energy to actually get his homework and dinner done tonight. Spending time with the Kaibas wasn't something he wanted to do on a regular basis if he got this tired because of it.
"Thanks, Bakura," Mokuba grinned at him as they came to a stop outside his apartment building. "I had fun this afternoon. Maybe next time you'll try one of those parfaits?"
"Maybe I will." Bakura smiled quietly, then looked at Kaiba. "Thank you for the ride home, Kaiba. If Mokuba does need someone to spend time with him when you can't, feel free to call me."
Kaiba only nodded briefly as the other stepped back, reaching to close the door. "Thank you, for watching out for him," he finally said before shutting it firmly. Bakura watched as the limosuine headed away into the press of cars, then turned to go inside. It had been an afternoon he knew he wouldn't forget.
That's what you think, host. Can't have you taking my favor, now can I? He stiffened as there was a flash of mental gold, then white across his mind.
He blinked a little, staring around in confusion. Was he just now getting home from school? He had to be an hour and a half late, maybe more. The last thing he remembered was heading out of school with the others, and now he was here.
I guess the Spirit had something to do. He sighed a little, wishing just for a moment that he could have one afternoon that was completely normal. He glanced down as he heard something crinkle, and realized he was holding a bag of cream puffs. Maybe this was the Spirit's way of repaying him? No, he doubted it. Probably just playing the role of Bakura Ryou. At least he'd get a little something out of it. He sighed again, then headed up to his apartment. Why couldn't something at least a little interesting happen to him, that had nothing to do with the Ring?
The dark spirit chuckled to himself as his host entered the elevator. It had been a very good afternoon, in every sense of the word. For him, at least. Who knew, maybe if he could work his way into Kaiba's favor, he could wind up with much more than just a few Items. He settled down to do some serious plotting, trying to think of what could be a small enough favor so Kaiba wouldn't argue about granting it, but important enough to him to make it worth his while.
Bakura put his things away as he entered his apartment, and headed over to the kitchen. At least one cream puff had a bite out of it, but he wanted something more substantial. For a moment, he thought about having a chocolate parfait, then changed his mind. Steak would be much better. But well done, not raw, like the Spirit preferred. He could at least have dinner the way he wanted it. Even if he had nothing else.
The End
Note: I have plans on what the knife and the favor are for. Actually, if you've seen Battle City, you can guess what the knife was used for. It's the same one the Spirit will use to cut himself in accordance with his bargain with Malik. As for the favor...well, since Bakura wasn't an official Battle City registered Duelist, but he did work his way into the finals, and it was Seto's tournament, having a small favor to call on was useful, wasn't it? Though really, I doubt Kaiba would've really cared in the long run. I might do a side story or an epilogue to go more in depth on just how the favor gets called in, but for now, this story is over.
The End