A/N: Sorry, I forgot to mention why this story is rated as it is. It's "T" for the language and violence, but mainly for the fact that I thought this plot up on my own out of my own evilness. And since I toned it down, it's not "M."

Chapter One: Two Brothers, a Woven Tapestry

I am uncertain of what to write in here, as I would rather channel any uncharacteristic vagrant thoughts onto my computer, being a technologically inclined sort of person, but as my younger brother gave this to me for my birthday, I ought to make some sort of use of it. Perhaps I'll merely document the legal statistical records of my business and turn this into a ledger.

With a sigh that seemed the end of the world had finally come upon them and he was irked that he was going to be interrupted in his work, Seto Kaiba glanced over to his doorway where a small face peered worriedly in at him. Quickly printing out his documents that he needed for a meeting the next day, the young man strode over to his brother with his arms crossed.

"Yes, Mokuba?"

"Why…why aren't you in bed?"

"You know perfectly well why not. I have a lot of work to do. Remember the corporate board meeting tomorrow? It's not going to get done on its own."

"I know, but…"

"…"

"…"

"Well?"

"Nothing. I'll talk to you tomorrow then, Seto. …G'night."

"…Don't walk away like a beaten puppy! Argh, fine. I'll be in bed in forty minutes, all right?"

"All right! You promise this time?"

"Didn't I last time?"

"Seto! Stop smirking like that! You're obligated to keep your promises, you know! And you need your repose tonight for that official, super-important meeting tomorrow. You won't make a likable impression if you're half-dead and looking like a newly-disinterated corpse resurrected from the sepulcher."

"Stop practicing your vocabulary words on me. Do you even know what you're saying?"

"Yes, do you?"

"Of course. But you meant 'disinterred,' not 'disinterated' or whatever new word you made. Just go with 'exhume' next time."

"Oh, okay. I thought 'disinterated' sounded weird…see? Staying up late does that to people. And you'll be worse by tomorrow."

"So go to bed so I can finish my work and go to bed soon after."

"Set-o."

"A deal's a deal, all right?"

"I hope so."

"Hmph. One would think he didn't trust me," Kaiba muttered as his brother trudged back to his own bedroom down the long hallway.

Eyes blinking for a second from the brightness, he riveted his eyes back to the shining computer screen to keep his promise and deal as best he could.

If the bell were supposed to represent a time when students were expected to be seated and ready for class, it failed miserably. Of course, it wasn't exactly the bell's fault; some delinquents just could not be expected to make it on time even had there been a money trail to follow…Joey Wheeler would certainly follow the money trail, but then he'd have to stop to spend whatever he grabbed on some new cards in order to attempt beating his best friend at Duel Monsters one more time. He was inane. Yugi Moto wasn't about to lose, especially not to him. Yugi's defeat had already been claimed by Kaiba, and only Kaiba. It'd be no use dueling the pipsqueak if he lost to that fool of a duelist Wheeler.

This morning was no different from other mornings, the juvenile felon sliding into his seat long after the bell that couldn't ingrain the rules in him.

But the teacher was not at all surprised and dryly commented, "I'm so pleased you decided to join this class before it ended, Wheeler." She looked pointedly at the clock, which only had eleven minutes to go until the end of the hour.

"Sorry, Teach. I had a bit of a problem."

Yugi looked over at him, wondering if the problem had anything to do with Joey's dad. After all, the drunkard seemed to be worse on the weekends, and today was Monday. Perhaps an extra-long time of erased memories and oblivion had resulted in an extra-long hangover and made Joey have to do some extra work—maybe that had been the "problem."

From the corner of his eye, Joey saw the smirk on the face of the student in the back of the room, the one who was blessed with the gift of utter annoyance and derisiveness, with taunts and condescending tones. His least favorite person to see in all the world: Seto Kaiba. Indeed, the teacher's words had been praise compared to what could come tumbling eloquently from the CEO's mouth.

This time, all was yet silent and calm. No sleek words would wash over Joey until after the teacher stopped paying so close attention to the students or, if he were especially blessed today, such commentary would only come in-between classes.

Surely, it seemed ironic that the one who would feel free to taunt others so excessively was hesitant to do it before figures of authority. Some, though never wherever or to whomever Kaiba himself had a chance of hearing, would have guessed he was afraid of getting in trouble.

No, it wasn't fear of the teachers or detentions or expulsion that kept Seto's tongue calmly tied up tightly to the hitching post. Not fear, but a promise to the very one who always was present at the mansion's large front window when he drove off to work or some tournament or meeting. A small figure would always, always be there without fail, whether the drapes lay open or closed to the world, body fading into the background from his utterly still pose. Still except for the wave that would come and Seto would return.

His brother. Mokuba was the only one who kept Seto from completely lashing out at the world around him. A promise that he wouldn't do anything foolish that would get him in trouble with the school or state and thereby create a chance of harming Mokuba along with him. The brothers, after all, were tied together in a certain predicament that made Seto Kaiba—who would normally never so much as stoop to avoid trouble, instead seeking it out without fear—pause and contemplate before doing anything. If Mokuba were taken away from him…it was something the elder Kaiba didn't want to contemplate and so vowed he would never be the one to make it happen, and he highly doubted Mokuba would ever jeopardize their precarious situation himself.

They felt the same way about one another; that much was obvious. Both brothers lived entirely for the other and only sought to keep themselves going in difficult times for the other. No one would ever be able to take them away from one another and nothing would ever stand between them. Not work, not school, not other people. Thus they both believed and knew.

The Kaiba brothers were attached as closely as two branches spreading from the same trunk, as two chinks of a chain, as threads in a tapestry woven together. Not just anything could break them apart.

Joey was surprised when the bell rang not too long later and his fiercest rival had already left the class without loitering to make some of the usual dog taunts.

Going off to the board meeting later that day, Kaiba swiveled slightly in his seat in the limousine, accustomed to the age-old tradition. Rolling down the dark-tinted window at his side, Seto gazed out the crack and spotted his brother standing in the mansion window, as usual.

Odd, Kaiba always thought, that his brother had kept this tradition no matter what. For years, ever since he was old enough to reach his hand up over the edge of the window, Mokuba had been present to bid his brother farewell. Back then, while still at home with their aunt and uncle and the boy was only four or five, back before the orphanage and Gozaburo, he had stuck up his hand and frantically waved while jumping to try to see his brother when Seto had just been going to get the paper or mail.

Even through the orphanage time and the years with Gozaburo, Mokuba had somehow kept this act alive. With a small pain at the center of his being, Kaiba couldn't know if Mokuba continued during the later years of when Gozaburo was still alive. He had never turned to wave back if his brother had been there during those years.

But he still believed Mokuba had been there. After all, Death-T and the couple years before that was mainly Kaiba's failing, not his brother's. Sure, the kid had tried to impress his older brother and make Seto proud of him by challenging Yugi and his friends to deadly games, but it had all been so that he, Seto Kaiba, would take notice of Mokuba and respect him. Or really, love him.

Such memories were not healthy to hold suppressed, but Kaiba merely bottled them away again tightly as he stuck out the top of his hand of the window and waved goodbye at his brother.

Then, rolling up the window again, Kaiba continued on the way to his board meeting, changing the regrets in his mind about his brother to thoughts of numbers, control, and power. The fond recollections of his smiling brother in the window had to revert to cold, calculating looks of his employees and opponents.

But the truth that his younger brother would be waiting at home was what made it all more possible.