I told you I would make the chapters longer! Sorry for the long update, my internet's being a pain at the moment. (kicks the cable cord) Ah, well, I hope this meets your expectations!
And I hope that no one will have to pull a hankee out on this one . . . I almost had, but I might just be an unusual person. (shrugs) Who knows?
Enjoy!
In the Company of Wealth
Chapter 3 --- Worth
"We gather here today to grieve for the loss of a dear family member and a great man . . ."
Tears trickled down the young Kaiba's face as the Preacher spoke on, only stopping for breaths and dramatic drawbacks. Though the words rolled over Mokuba like waves of air, they meant nothing . . . The whole ceremony meant nothing to him. The only thing that did mean something to him, or did, was his brother . . . And his brother was gone. Forever.
The Police had reported that he was intoxicated, which lead him to suicide.
No, that could not be it; his brother would not kill himself because he had lost everything to Veracity Incorporated. However, he had . . . And this did not change the fact that consequentially, his brother collided with the oncoming car of Malsworth.
Malsworth had something to do with this --- Mokuba knew this. Malsworth did something to upset his brother and push him into committing suicide. There had to be. If only he knew what, then he could have revenge --- revenge for his brother.
. . . But his brother was the only family he had left, after his parents died in a car accident, his brother was the only relative in which loved him . . . And now even he had left him. . .
Millions of emotions attempted to mull Mokuba to the ground, pound the happiness away forever. What was happiness? He had to ponder lately. There seemed like no such thing.
Tears cascaded down his face gently. Why did his brother have to leave? . . . WHY?!
Why did he have to be alone?
Why did he have to loose everything?
Why did everyone around him have to die? Was he cursed? Was someone down below laughing at him hysterically for his misery?
He pursed his lips, trying not to break down in sobs. No, his brother would not want that, his brother would want him to be strong . . . Yet how could one be strong when they felt so weak?
Joey pulled him close. Yes . . . After Mokuba's brother had died and Joey had heard the news, he was the first one at the Manor, and the first one to comfort him. Then came Yugi, Tea, Tristan, Duke, and even Mai once. They had all visited and tried to comfort him. He was very thankful. Joey though, Joey walked him to school each morning after his brother's death. Mokuba never understood why.
. . . He had to wonder though; he had to wonder why his brother had never seen so many friends surrounded him. . .
He reached into his pocket and tightened his grip on the Blue Eyes White Dragon securely for comfort.
"He was a son, he was a businessman, he was Seto Kaiba. . .yet he also was the brother to Mokuba, and the sole guardian of the child."
Why had his brother even taken him under his wing? Surely, his brother could have had a great and wonderful life without him . . . Then maybe he wouldn't have. . .
. . . Maybe his brother would not have died if he weren't the heaviest weight on his brother's shoulders. Maybe he would have become greater than Malsworth if only Seto never had Mokuba to drag him down. . .
Mokuba felt the soothing circling rubs on his back by Joey as the Preacher long at last ended the ceremony.
"In closing, I would like all of us to think of his brother and pay respects to Seto Kaiba. Walk up in your time and lastly look upon Seto Kaiba, a great man, and an even greater brother."
The raven youth felt a knot tighten in his throat. Look at his brother . . .? Could he do that? No, he couldn't bear to look at the scratched and bruised face of the man he had once called his brother. . .
Yet he found himself following the procession towards the front of the church, towards the casket in which lied his dead brother. What did he look like? Was he so horrendously disfigured that he looked like a monster? Mokuba had not seen him since the accident; he could never bring himself to do such a thing.
And yet he found himself feet away from the casket, Joey asking him if he really wanted to see this.
Mokuba nodded.
Upon walking up to the casket, he felt his whole mouth suddenly go dry, and chills ran up his spine. Why did it get so cold all of a sudden? He shivered for a moment and found himself next to the white coffin. His eyes wandered into the encasement. Mokuba almost burst out in tears.
His brother lied placidly in the casket, eyes closed and hair straight. It looked as though he was only sleeping . . . There were no cuts --- besides a small nick at the bottom of his chin, which had been cleaned, the cut still sorely open. He rested in a white tuxedo, Mokuba had said a while back white always looked good on his brother, and this was his favorite suit. His brother's arms were over his chest, one gnarled slight from the suitcase in which he had never let go. His deck had been in the suitcase at the moment.
Taking his brother's favorite card from his pocket, he reached up on his tiptoes and slid the card in-between his brother's hands and it seemed as though the hands took it welcomingly. The card seemed to shine. It was home.
Mokuba quickly walked away from the casket, Joey following close, as did Yugi and Tea. He heard a gripe from a man in front of him and looked up. It was Malsworth.
". . . That moron just stepped right in front of my car! And that was a brand new card too."
He was talking to TV reporters who had miraculously escaped (or bribed) the suites who were not suppose to let them in.
Anger boiled within Mokuba, how could Malsworth talk about his brother as some idiot!
The woman asked, "I heard you had a business meeting with him that night at a pub, did you induce the young Kaiba's drinking?"
Malsworth snorted, "I would never touch liquor in my life --- and if he had, it was of that moron's own accord, now good day---"
"LIAR!!" Mokuba shouted, teary-eyed and angry. "You liar!"
Malsworth raised an eyebrow, "Who is this kid?"
Mokuba answered the question for him, "My brother would never do anything like that and neither would I!"
"And how would you know you that brat?"
Mokuba stopped dead in his tracks as Malsworth grinned. The youth continued slowly, voice trembling with rage, "Because my brother is not a lowlife filth such as you. He would never snivel in the dirt like you do Malsworth; he would never stoop to your stature. He is one of honor, unlike your vile, ugly hide!" His voice dripped with venom unmatched.
Joey blinked in awe; He is just like Kaiba . . . Too much like Kaiba.
Just as Mokuba finished, an eerie silence swooped over the whole church, everyone spying him in a mute gasp. He quickly clamped his hands over his mouth and ran around the man, out the door and onto the front steps. Sitting down, he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face into his knees, quietly sobbing.
"Why . . . Why brother? I don't want you to leave me, I don't!"
And he cried . . . Until his friends came to comfort him yet again . . . Friends he wished his brother had realized he had also, before he died.
Seto Kaiba blinked in confusion and looked around. Where was he? He found white, white, and only white, an unearthly white which tempted to blind him. Was this heaven? He walked forwards and inspected the blinding whiteness. What had happened?
Suddenly, startling him out of his own wits as if on command, he heard a car horn, the screech of breaks, and gazed at the blinding light before him . . . And felt his mother's kiss she had always planted on his forehead before she had left for work each morning.
A shock ran through him as he realized where he was. He was where he did not think he would end up so soon, and this even blew his mind. Despite his predicament and his surroundings, the first thought which crossed through his mind, rolling over and over again was:
Mokuba.
An image of his raven-haired brother materialized in front of him, sobbing gently on the front pew of a church, the mutt beside him. Mokuba's bottom lip was trembling with held sobs as the Preacher's words drifted through the air.
"In closing, I would like all of us to think of his brother and pay respects to Seto Kaiba. Walk up in your time and lastly look upon Seto Kaiba, a great man, and an even greater brother."
His assumption was correct, the fear in which had ebbed at him since he had arrived in this white void.
Seto Kaiba was dead.
As dead as a doornail. (Not to say a doornail was ever alive mind you.)
Remorse filled his chest as he stepped forwards with an outstretched hand as his brother dispersed into the pearly whiteness, forgotten in the pearly whiteness.
"No!" Seto yelled and jumped forth as if to catch the fading image. "Mokuba!" His voice echoed through the large expanse, a cry that fell on unhearing ears.
A soft sigh resonated behind him as a woman with long brown hair in angelic clothing walked forth through the white.
Seto turned quickly and suppressed a gasp. The face looked so familiar . . . The picture of the woman stood on his nightstand and he had gazed at her porcelain face ever night wishing with all his might she had not left so soon. His shoulders stiffened. "Mother. . ."
The woman smiled, "So up-tight." Her voice was soft and melodic, just as he had remembered. There was a long moment of silence, "You look so grown-up Seto, so handsome."
Seto blushed slightly as she walked forwards slowly, a smile always present upon her flawless face. "M-Mother. . ." For the first time, Seto Kaiba felt a feeling of helplessness against his mother, her ever-probing eyes searching his mind, his very soul through his eyes. He could not look away.
"Hello Seto, it's been so long. You look just like my grandpa." Her eyes gazed to where the image had been, saddened. "And Mokuba looks just like your father --- but with a bit more sense." A smile. Her teeth were like pearls, so white and so perfect. (Accomplished through many years of whitener and braces mind you!)
Seto, for once, was at a loss of words, though his eyes told a different story. They told he wanted to jump out and hug her with all his might, yet his reformed nature prevented this, and for once, he wished it didn't.
His mother reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the cheek, "I've missed you Seto."
The temptation was so great, Seto found his arms coming from his sides and wrapping around the fragile form, embracing her firmly. His eyes closed tightly, refraining himself from shedding any tears. He wanted to stay like this forever, to smell the Rosemary his mother always wore and to feel her soft silken hair brush against his face. He wanted to stay like this and never let go, never reminded of anything except her. Forget his life, forget his money . . . Forget his brother. Seto suddenly stopped himself. Forget . . . His own brother?
Then came the question in which he did not want to answer.
"Did you hug Mokuba like this? It is so cold." She pushed slowly away and ran her forefinger across his jawbone to his chin. "You have changed a lot."
Seto lowered his gaze. This was the warmest hug he had ever embraced anyone since she had died . . . How cold were his hugs to Mokuba? "Mokuba. . ." He whispered under his breath, unknowing he did so.
This had been his wish for so long, to see his mother again. He wanted to tell her everything that happened. He wanted to laugh with her again -- he wanted to cry with her again. He wanted everything that they had in the past. He wanted all of this; he wanted to stay here forever with her placid face. He wanted everything he was denied for so many years.
But . . . What of his brother?
His mother tilted her head, "Speaking of Mokuba, I came here to give you a decision. See, this is the Waiting Room as we call it. You are here because both your good and bad deeds are at a tie --- and hatefully, most of your bad deeds have been against Mokuba for your own good."
"But it was for the good for the both of us! ---"
"Fool yourself as much as you want Seto, you have always been hardheaded. But this does not change the fact that you are tied, and you have a choice." Her voice . . . Even in its warmness, he felt cold. Oh so cold.
"A choice . . .?"
"Yes Seto, a choice. You may stay here if you would like, with me forever."
Seto jumped the gun, unlike himself, "Yes---!"
"Or you may go back down and stand with Mokuba, even though he will have others to take care of him if you do not." Her voice was solemn and level. She was dead serious.
Mokuba . . . For a brief moment, his brother had slipped Seto's mind. Mokuba was his life, and yet his mother was his very soul. He had yearned for this day for so long, the day he would see his mother and talk to her again.
"Make your choice Seto, for this choice decides your fate."
For once, Seto was torn; he was torn between both sides for the first time. He glanced around the white void for answers and found no such thing. The whiteness only gave him a sense of solitude . . . Seclusion. Something in which he had never felt, for his brother was ever present, smiling and amusing him.
A small smile licked at the edge of his thin lips.
How could he forget those times? The times he worked late in the office and Mokuba would come bursting in singing a tune out of the blue or telling a joke. Mokuba would always tell him of his day and he would be at ease as he finished his stressful business. Now for once, he wished he had smiled with Mokuba . . . He wished he could have laughed with Mokuba. He wished he could just have a chance to thank his brother for more than he could ever comprehend. How could he forget?
. . . How could he ever forget?
No matter which side he would chose, both led to happiness -- yet one lead to difficulty also. Did he really want difficulty anymore? Did he really want all that pressure? No . . . he did not.
And his brother would never want to see him again after he committed his own suicide. His brother must be disgraced. Who would want such a brother as him again? One who abandoned him at the one time in which Mokuba needed him? How could Mokuba want a cowering brother? A brother who decided to end his life rather than tough out the sour parts with him? He himself had said once, 'To get somewhere, you have to work Mokuba, work and smooth out the tough areas. And this takes discipline, discipline and a lot of coffee.' Mokuba had laughed at this . . . He did too, one of the rare times no one caught, one of the times which fell through his fingers, slowly grinding away into nothingness as he stood in this white vast void.
A soft papery feeling touched his fingers as his right hand subconsciously gripped it and brought it to his face. He suppressed a gasp. Since when had this been here? He had not had this when he died; it was in his briefcase . . . The Blue Eyes White Dragon.
Blue eyes gleamed back at him from the dragon as he remembered the oath to Mokuba, the promise he made that they would always be together. His soul resided with his mother, his life resided with his brother . . . And his heart resided only where he knew.
And his heart tugged him into the direction in which his mouth spoke. "Mokuba . . . Mokuba will always need me."
He did not care for what his brother would think, for he knew his brother better than anyone in the whole world. He was Mokuba's hero and always would be, and his heart knew this, too.
The woman nodded and snapped her fingers. A white light appeared and formed a small boy behind her. He let out a small groan and stumbled forwards, stopping to steady himself. Seto found the kid to be one in which he had encountered before. Noah Kaiba.
Noah blinked and opened his eyes, looking around. His gazed rested upon Seto in awe. "Seto. . .?"
The young man raised a question eyebrow to his mother, "Why is Noah here?"
The woman sighed, "He died, as you know, when the fortress blew --- yes, I know of all these adventures --- and I believe you owe him something."
Noah looked at the woman questioningly, "Owe me? Miss, Seto doesn't owe me anything really. In reality, I owe him more than I can pay!"
"So modest," she smiled at him and looked up to Seto, "Take him with you. Mokuba needs everyone, and he is no exception. Besides my son, you know he has been on your mind for quiet some time."
Seto relatively sighed and looked down to Noah.
Noah smiled widely, "Hello, Seto."
A smile wound its way onto the woman's features again as the card melted in Seto's hand. She reached out and grabbed him gently at both sides of his face. She pulled him down so that their foreheads bumped together gently, both staring into each other's eyes. Amethyst to blue.
"Give this to Mokuba when you have a chance," She kissed his gently on the forehead and stepped away slowly, fading into white. "Goodbye my son -- Seto Kaiba." The woman disappeared as Seto stood with Noah, who had edged closer to him and had now gripped Kaiba's favorite blue trench coat, watching the whiteness wearily.
The two Kaibas' found the whiteness fade into the Kaiba Manor, Noah gasping at the sight. Seto had guessed Noah had not seen it in so long; he welcomed it with open arms. Seto would have to get use to another brother around the house -- he would manage.
The two heard soft sobs in the room beyond the foyer they stood in and Noah stepped away, nodding and floating up through the ceiling to where his old bedroom use to be. It was the exact same. He smiled warmly and sat down on the bed, looking out the window. He was back . . . And now they had bigger problems to conquer.
Seto stepped into the living room and found Mokuba crying on the sofa. As he came closer, he found his brother crying asleep.
Mokuba hugged the pillow tighter and whimpered, "Big brother, don't go!" He shouted and snuggled his face into the pillow, "Please don't leave me!"
Grief stung at Kaiba's heart as he ran a smooth hand along Mokuba's delicate skin. He wished with all his might that his body was not dead; he wished he had never listened to the twisted words of Malsworth. Drink your worth; he had said. Though how could he drink worth when worth is not tangible? He knew this now, worth did not mean money --- worth meant how much someone cared about you, this was your worth.
. . . And Mokuba cared for him with all his soul.
(clears throat) You know I don't like the force things but . . .
FIVE REVIEWS OR I WILL NOT CONTINUE!
Will Seto ever be able to comfort Mokuba? Is a plan concocting in Seto's mind to bring himself back to hold his brother again? What does Noah have to do with this? And is Malsworth plotting something?
It would be a shame to leave those questions hanging . . .