Seto woke up to find his head on his desk, pen and notebook pressing into his cheek. He sat up, blinking the sleep from his eyes. It was already light outside, and when he looked down at his watch, he saw that it was far too late in the morning to return home for a shower and change of clothes.

He made do as best he could, straightening his tie and running his fingers through his hair. By the time his secretary arrived, he had already made himself coffee and was back at work, staring again at both his computer screen and his handwritten notes from the night before.

"Good morning, Kaiba-shacho," Akiko greeted him, placing the morning paper on the corner of his desk.

He grunted something that he hoped she'd take as affirmative.

Then later, as the coffee began to take effect, he asked, "Has Mokuba come in yet?"

Akiko turned, not bothering to hide her surprise. "He didn't come in with you?" she asked.

"No," Seto said.

"Oh. Oh," she said.

"What?"

"It's just that I saw him earlier. With the new OL." Akiko seemed rather pleased about this. Seto didn't bother to wonder why. He briefly flirted with the idea of warning Reiko and Mokuba that they would be in the newest set of office rumours before discarding the idea. People were here to work, not engage in gossip.

He returned to his programming and before he knew it, Akiko announced she was going to take her lunch break.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Kaiba-shacho."

Seto looked up. Reiko stood before him, looking eerily like a female version of Mokuba. She was holding out a small bundle of what could only be handmade chocolate, and she had a small, tentative smile of her lips.

"I…um…made a bit too much chocolate yesterday," she said in answer to his questioning stare. "And…um…Mokuba and I have been making the rounds all morning. Delivering it." She put the chocolate on his desk, right on top of the morning paper. "I'll go now. I know you're busy—"

"Wait," Seto heard his voice say. He didn't really care, but she was his brother's friend, and no matter how tired he was, he always tried to put in at least some effort for Mokuba's friends. "Thank you, Reiko," he said.

She bowed before leaving the office.

The next person to come in was Mokuba, pockets bulging with giri-choco, not all of it Reiko's.

"You didn't come home last night," he announced in a tone that suggested he'd not be entirely adverse to a fight.

"No," Seto said.

"You can't keep doing this, Nisama," Mokuba said, as he began to empty the contents of his pockets onto Seto's desk. "It's not healthy. And I'm not ten anymore and so easily distracted."

There was something in Mokuba's earnestness that was irresistible, and Seto began to chuckle in spite of himself.

"Have you even eaten anything today?" Mokuba asked, coming round to the other side of the desk and touching his brother's cheek. "Nisama?"

Seto usually lied, or at least omitted most of the truth, but he could rarely do so when confronted by the one person he had spent his life lying for.

"No," he admitted. "Just coffee." He picked up one of Mokuba's bundles and untied the ribbons. "And now chocolate," he said as he popped one into his mouth.

"Oh, Nisama." Mokuba sighed and leant against the back of his brother's desk chair. It was odd to have Mokuba taller than him for once, but at the same time, it was comforting to know that Mokuba was behind him. Even now.

Seto ate the chocolates methodically, with no indication of whether they were good or bad.

"Reiko says you love me," Mokuba said.

There was silence and then, "Reiko occasionally knows what she's talking about," Seto said.

"Then why do you do this to yourself, Nisama? Why? You know I'd rather have you alive twenty years from now than KaibaCorp, don't you?"

In answer, Seto reached up for the hand still on his cheek. It trembled beneath his grip, but Mokuba allowed their fingers to entwine together.

"Do you," Mokuba asked carefully, "have any idea how worried I am about you?"

"Don't," Seto said, pulling Mokuba's hand down to his mouth and pressing his lips upon the back of it. Like a seal or a brand or a burn: no matter what he did, he always seemed to hurt Mokuba. He might have said more, but Akiko chose that moment to return from lunch.

Mokuba didn't wash his hand the rest of the day. Even though Seto's mouth had left just the slightest residue of chocolate.