Bath Time

"Come on, Mokie. You can't hide from me forever!" called a young Seto as he looked around the house for his two-year-old baby brother. It was that time again. Mokuba's most dreaded, despised time of the day: Bath Time.
"Can too!" Mokuba yelled back still in his hiding place. Seto immediately knew where he was. He quietly crept down the hall as he followed the small, muffled snickering of his baby brother.
"Got ya" he practically hissed as he threw open the door to the hall closet playfully.
"No!" Mokuba wailed as his brother grabbed him while he tried to crawl through the older boy's legs. "No bath! No bath!" he repeated over and over despite the obviousness uselessness of it.
"Yes, Mokuba, bath. " said Seto calmly as walked toward the bathroom with his brother in his arms.
"No!" screeched Mokuba relentlessly. He struggled to escape his brother's firm, yet gentle grasp. He finally gave in and began to pout, sulking in his defeat.
"Bath's aren't all bad, Mokie. It's just a little water." Seto coaxed as he walked in the bathroom and closed the door so his brother wouldn't run out like last time. 'I know you like your ducky and your boat. Here." he said nicely handing Mokuba a rubber duck. He smiled as Mokuba entertained himself with the toy as he turned on the water. After checking to make sure the water was the right temperature he began undressing his brother. Mokuba pouted as his brother placed him in the water.
"Bubbles!" the child cried happily out of nowhere. He began playing with the subs as his brother shampooed his raven black, unruly hair.
"Quit splashing, Mokie. You're getting me wet." Seto said as he rubbed some more soap on his brother. An evil grin crossed the two-year-old's face.
"Splash!" he chirped gleefully as he soaked Seto with the sudsy water. Seto looked at him; meanly at first, but a grin soon crossed his face.
"Very funny, Mokie. No more splashing"
"Awww, no fair"
Seto made no remark but just smirked at is brother's annoyance with the new rule.
"This isn't so bad, it it, Mokuba?" Seto asked a few minutes later.
"Yes." Pouted Mokuba.
Seto laughed softly as he picked up Mokuba and began to dry him with a soft towel.
"Seto!" called a stern voice from downstairs. Seto heard the front door close as his father walked in the house. "Where are you, son? We need to talk"
"Just finishing off with Mokuba's bath upstairs, Dad!" Seto called back. He quickly helped Mokuba get dressed in his light blue pajamas and told him to get in bed.
"Yes father?" asked Seto as he walked briskly down the stairs. "What do you need to talk about"
Ron, Seto's father, looked at Seto in the eyes. He didn't have to say it. Seto already knew.
"Again." Seto said. It was more of a statement than a question. His father had been fired again, making a total of twenty-eight times in the two short years since Emily's, Seto's mother, death. "It's okay, Dad" Seto said reassuringly, "The three of us are strong. We'll get though this"
Ron didn't reply. Instead, he pulled out a small pocket knife. Still staring his oldest son in the eye, he slit his left wrist.
"D-dad?" Seto stuttered, his tone of voice filled with worry and concern. "Dad!" He ran over and hugged his father just as he was about to faint. "Dad, no, dad?" he sobbed.
"I'm sorry, son." murmured Ron. His last dieing words:"I love you, Seto"
Seto fell to his knees by his father's side, continuing to cry. After forty-five minutes or so he picked himself up and called for help. He went upstairs to find his baby brother sound asleep, resting peacefully with his thumb in his mouth.
"It's my fault." Seto whispered shakily. He walked slowly over to Mokuba's bedside and stood there. He didn't move until the police came.

End.