Mokuba's Plan
By Pearl of the Dark Age
Disclaimer: Guess what? (You ask, "What?" as if you didn't already know.) I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.
From the Author: I know I've been posting one chapter at a time so far, but I decided to try something different. I don't think I'll do the "one at a time" thing from now on for this story. "Mokuba's Plan" is all complete, and I thought readers would find it more enjoyable to have several chapters posted together in an update.
Chapter 5
It was now 10:14 on a beautiful Monday morning. Mokuba was a little nervous. He was also very hungry. He had no choice. Poke.
Nothing. Amelda was usually a light sleeper. However, he warned Mokuba that on Mondays - he was very different. Do not approach. Do not wake up. He had been out all night on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Whenever Mokuba asked where Amelda was going when he left, he would only reply, "Work." When Mokuba woke up, he found Amelda next to him, not stirring a muscle. Poke.
Normally Amelda woke up with the slightest movement of the bed. Mokuba had gotten up, dressed, and expectantly waited for his new onii-chan to wake and fix him something to eat. After the fiasco on Saturday morning when Mokuba had attempted to make breakfast for the both of them, Mokuba was no longer allowed to cook anything in the kitchen. He was permitted to fix himself sandwiches - but that was it. Amelda woke up to find eggs on the floor, flour everywhere, bacon burnt to the point of sacrilege, and what was supposed to be a pancake on the ceiling. "But you're supposed to flip them!" Mokuba had defended. Banned.
Amelda had strict kitchen rules. It was the only part of the apartment that was organized. People learned quickly to obey the rules; otherwise, they were forbidden to eat any of the food that Amelda cooked. If you ever had Amelda's cooking, you would understand why everyone worshipped the Kitchen Rules. Poke.
"Pet više minuta, ugoditi," Amelda murmured into his pillow.
What? Mokuba thought. He could not tell if it was gibberish or an actual language. Since Amelda slept on his stomach, face buried, Mokuba couldn't tell whether or not he was awake. It was a lot harder to wake Seto, but at least he slept on his back.
"Onii-chan," Mokuba called. "I'm hungry. Can you make me something to eat, please?"
"Šta?" A bleary grey eye peaked above the threshold of the pillow. "Make it yourself," he grumbled. "I told you to leave me alone on Mondays."
"But you banned me from cooking anything in the kitchen!" Mokuba pleaded. He really would not mind the ban being lifted, but with the ban the quality of the food was vastly superior. So, he preferred Amelda to cook. "What are these for?" Mokuba asked, trying to stimulate a conversation.
Half his face was still out of sight in the fluffy pillow. Amelda turned onto his side and gave the glittery stilettos Mokuba was holding a half-conscious acknowledgement. "Work," he said simply.
"Work?" Mokuba asked, aghast. "What are you? A hooker…?"
"The position for Batman was filled," (1) Amelda remarked sleepily, closing his eyes. Mokuba now knew fully well that a sarcastic answer always meant no. He sighed. Poke. "Aaagh… I'm already awake! What do you want?"
"Breakfast! You pinky promised me that you wouldn't let me starve!"
"I told you… oh, fine!" Amelda threw off the covers and rose. Not bothering to put on slippers or a bathrobe or changing out of his pajamas, he went to the kitchen and started making French toast. While he was cooking, Mokuba stood at the edge of the linoleum floor that marked the supposed "boundary" of the kitchen. He wondered briefly what his nii-sama would think of someone walking around without a bathrobe; his brother always covered himself up.
"So… if you weren't working the corners why do you work on weekend nights in high-heels?"
"Who said I wore them?"
"Who said you didn't?" Mokuba countered. "What are you doing to that toast?" He suddenly noticed that Amelda was stuffing white creamy something inside the thick slice.
"Cream cheese," Amelda answered calmly, "and marmalade," as he added yellowish goo with flecks of orange, "I take it you've never had real French toast."
"If I could, I would try and convince Nii-sama to hire you as our chef, Onii-chan," Mokuba said, snickering. "What about the high-heels?" He was dying of curiosity.
"First of all," Amelda said, resigned to a full explanation, "I'm not a hooker. If I was, even your nii-sama couldn't afford me!" Amelda's cheshire-cat smile approved of the raucous laughter that followed this remark. "Second, I do not wear women's clothes, nor do I strip. The heels are a part of a costume. I do free-style dance at a theater that features bishonen. (7) It's supposed to be sophisticated, artistic erotica."
"Is it really sophisticated?" Mokuba asked, skeptically. He watched as Amelda put some spices into the egg mixture.
"Yes," Amelda responded. "I own the business."
"Really?" Now Mokuba was impressed, "If you own it, why do you dance?"
"I started off short on staff. However, when Bishonen-ai - that's the name of the place - became popular, so did I. My dancers aren't as good as me. I'm a favorite among fans. Sometimes I'm recognized on the streets in Osaka. Also, I'm directly in charge of synchronizing all the special lighting effects with the music; that's what the computer over there is for," he said, pointing it out amongst the clutter on the desk. "But the only people who know that are my employees."
"Your business must not make that much money if you live in a place like this," Mokuba tactlessly remarked.
The savvy redhead was not perturbed, "Actually, we're doing very well. I happen to be a frugal spender and a chary saver. I'm saving up for a house; I intend to pay in full. I don't like being in debt of any kind."
"My goal in starting Bishonen-ai," Amelda paused while transferring the toast from the frying pan onto plates, "was to remove the cheap aesthetics of male sexuality from sawdust porn and the oily glitz of Chip'N Dales (9) to the refined aesthetics of theatrical art. I want people to see the beauty in male sexuality… like the Statue of David… art…" Amelda was at a loss for a better explanation, but judging by the expression of revelation upon Mokuba's face, he thought he got his point across. "The ironic thing is I absolutely hate ties, but you need one just to get into the door of Bishonen-ai! My audience is half women, half men. Naturally homosexuals and bi's are in attendance. For the heterosexual men who patronize my art, it's a perversion from their mundane reality. You see, my entire audience is made up of those who share Kaiba's stature of wealth and power, willing to burn money on the latest vice."
They sat down around the tiny table. "Oiishii!" (7) Mokuba moaned upon the first bite. He loved Amelda's cooking. It was not just the best, but there was always something different about it that made it an experience. Amelda never revealed any of his secrets, and no matter how closely Mokuba watched, he never learnt them. They ate in silence for a little bit. Amelda noticed that Mokuba's interest in the food was waning. He was about to ask what was wrong when Mokuba suddenly spoke.
"I don't think Nii-sama would ever go for a thing like that," Mokuba remarked, his dark velvet eyes saddening.
"Ano, Kaiba can only say that because he's never had my cooking," Amelda said confidently. He was confused by Mokuba's sudden fit of the blues.
"No, I was talking about your business - Bishonen-ai."
"Why? Is he homophobic?" Amelda asked between mouthfuls. He was a fast eater, but he tried to pace himself with his company so as not to be rude.
"No," Mokuba sighed. "I don't think that's it." He savored each bite, taking forever. "He thinks anything that has to do with sexuality is trivial. Or rather, anything that doesn't have to do with Kaiba Corp is extraneous. He considers all such things a distraction from work. Why do you call your art a vice?"
"I don't call it that. I just don't think that the majority of the audience sees it the way I do. To them it is artistic and sophisticated, yes, but they can't move past the erotic connotations. They're simple minded. As long as I reach a few, I know I've done some good in this world."
"And as long as it's profitable," Mokuba snorted, unable to stop himself. Amelda was glad to see the smile return.
"I'm only human. I do enjoy physical comforts," Amelda admitted with a sly smile. "But I also know what it's like to be without them. I am not motivated by greed. You will find that I have my limits to extravagance. I find material things trivial, unlike your brother, who lives by them. And also in contrast, I believe that it is the trivial things that makes mortal life more enjoyable. Didn't you say that what Kaiba deems trivial is a waste? Therein lies the difference between us. I'm a very philosophical person, who embraces the supernatural. To Kaiba - it is nonsense."
"Yeah," Mokuba agreed. "Whenever it comes to anything abstract like destiny, love, or past lives - Nii-sama goes into instant denial. He has issues. But… there is something that he did say recently that surprised me."
"What was that?" Amelda pried.
"He said that it was fate that he should be the only one with the Blue Eyes White Dragon," Mokuba stated. He cleaned his plate and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
Amelda snorted, "He has an unusual attachment to that dragon. And you were making fun of me about fetishes…"
"Oh, it gets funnier," Mokuba goaded. "He told me about what happened in Egypt. I was only there after he got out of the memory world."
"Memory world?" Amelda asked, puzzled.
"Long story… This was after KC Grand Prix. At first he told me just the facts. Later he said it was all nonsense. But last week or so… he actually said that it was because of what had happened in his past life that he was fated to wield and cherish Blue Eyes!"
"Did you say 'past life'?" Amelda asked, incredulous. "Did you say 'fated'?"
"Yes! He said that! Can you believe it?"
Amelda pondered this. To him, it sounded like Kaiba was willing to suspend belief just so he could justify his obsession. Amelda remembered Dartz' explanation of the Nameless Pharaoh and something about the past life of Seto Kaiba, but at the time he had glossed over this information. "What happened in his past life?"
"There was a woman!" Mokuba said in hushed excitement. "This is what got me to thinking about my plan to help Nii-sama!"
"Woman?" Amelda prompted for more information in this vein. Deep down, though he would never tell Mokuba, this bit of information disappointed him.
"Yeah," Mokuba smirked. "He was supposed to be an official in the Pharaoh's court. A priest or something… I don't remember - it's been several years and Nii-sama was brief with the details. But his past self was in love!" Mokuba paused for dramatic effect. His smile wavered slightly at the return of Amelda's stony veneer. Mokuba pressed on, "She was a village girl, who's spirit was that of the Blue Eyes White Dragon. She sacrificed herself to save him!" Mokuba was disappointed at the reception. He remembered being riveted when Seto gave him a five minute version of events. Mokuba had spent the next three weeks hounding him for details. Why does this bother Onii-chan? Mokuba wondered, I thought he'd find it funny that Nii-sama's accepted something he'd normally call nonsense.
"What were you doing the other day on my computer?" Amelda asked, changing the subject.
"I signed Nii-sama up for a dating service!" Mokuba announced proudly. "It's Plan C. I can't just depend on my absence during this month. I've got to make good use of this time here. I've already set him up on a date!"
A gleeful smile returned to Amelda's face. He was just imagining the headache and frustration this would cause the CEO. In the midst of a search for his runaway brother, he gets set up on a blind date! Serves him right, Amelda thought. Maybe there's something to be said for Mokuba's plan after all.
A/N: The idea for Bishonen-ai was inspired by a piece of fanart done by ctg21361. Thank you for your wonderful art!