"Seto," he began, one of the few times he dared to use the KC president's first name. "Mokuba isn't, I mean . . he's not d . . ."
"Dead?" the other finished flatly, without turning to look. He shook his head as he turned back to face his visitor, and the strangely amused look on his face was no longer deniable. "No," Kaiba continued with a smirk. "He's not dead."
"So you really don't care," Yugi blurted in his struggle to understand. "You're glad he's gone – out of the way." It was the worst possible scenario the young game master could think of; he felt as though just saying it rapidly like that would make it less difficult, less painful. Seto arched an eyebrow at this but said nothing. Yugi's emotions played off of Kaiba apparent lack and he suddenly went off on the CEO as he never had before, though it seemed that he must have considered it in the past. "I thought, if anyone, you loved your brother. But apparently you can't. You only care about yourself and your company. You wouldn't be here, you'd be out trying to find Mokuba!"
"Are you finished?" Seto asked after a few seconds of silence punctuated by Yugi's heavy breaths. The shorter duelist's face clearly showed disbelief. Seto sighed, but it wasn't one of his normal sighs that said "I can't believe I'm still in a conversation with such an idiot" or "How long do I have to pretend to be polite before this guy finally shuts up?"; it was a true sigh. Concern creased Kaiba's forehead, and anger, or perhaps fear, flashed in his blue eyes. "Did it ever occur to you that perhaps my brother doesn't want to be found?" Unable to do anything else, the Pharaoh fell back into a reclining position in the chair across from Kaiba's desk.
"Doesn't want to . . . you mean he ran away?"
"No, I mean he looked up kidnappers in the phone book and said 'come get me, I want to be stolen away'. Yes, he ran away. Now are you satisfied?" Sitting down at his desk, the CEO began furiously typing at his computer. As if that would solve anything.
"Kaiba, I'm sorry . . . . I . . ."
"Save it, Yugi, or whoever you are. I don't need your sympathy." He paused as he stared down his top dueling rival. "Or your help," he added, predicting the Pharaoh's next response as if it were a strategy in dueling.
"Your sarcasm certainly isn't winning any points," the Pharaoh replied, matching his tone.
"This isn't a game."
"You could have fooled me." The Pharaoh seemed to sigh as he stood up. "I can see that you're going to be much too stubborn for taking good advice or assistance, so I'm not going to waste any more of my time. If you change your mind, there are those of us who would gladly help you." With that, the Pharaoh left. As if. Kaiba sighed, not in relief but in frustration. He was the only one who could bring his brother back. No one else could do. But he would. Somehow.
Jim Fraley, President of Entertaining Technologies, sat forward in his chair. "You what?" he asked the young assistant nearly cowering in front of him.
"Sir, we don't really know how it happened, we were nearly had him surrounded, and then he just . . .kind of vanished." Fraley stood and walked over to him, grabbing the collar of his shirt to draw him closer.
"Kids don't vanish. Jobs do. Find Mokuba Kaiba in the next twenty-four hours, or you'll be the one who's vanished."