Chapter 4

Derek stared down at his expensive and delicious smelling meal that one of the servants had set down before him. He wasn't hungry that night. He glanced up across the table at his Uncle.

His Uncle Mokuba had just come home from Russia; Kaiba Corp was hoping to finally expand their business to all of Europe. It was only known in the United Kingdom.

Derek quickly snuck a glance at his father who was sitting at the head of the table. Seto had his chin rested on his clasped hands in the air; his attention was turned towards his younger brother, who was talking about his visit to Russia.

Derek dared to sneak another glance at Seto. His father's profile was still of stone as it had in his teenage years. Derek had come across some photos of Seto when he was a teenager. He hadn't changed much from his teenage image, only now he seemed more heartless and cruel looking than he ever had.

Derek stared back down at his plate; he forced himself to eat a forkful of food.

"...Great Kremlin Place was so well structured and wonderful..." came Mokuba's voice.

"Tasted like cottonwool." He grimaced silently to himself. Derek never really liked any of the food that he was served. He would have just been happy with takeaway in front of the TV. Of course that would never happen. No Seto wouldn't have any of that; it had to be expensive, smell delicious, but tasted like crap. Derek smiled to himself at his last thought.

"...Bolshi Theatre... So what do you think Derek?" interjected Mokuba's voice into Derek's trail of thought.

Derek looked up with a surprised expression on his face.

"Par-pardon?" Derek said quietly. He caught his father's expression out the corner of his eye. Seto was frowning at him. He had done that all of Derek's life. Derek couldn't even remember a time when Seto smiled at him, or at all, well a real smile not smirking.

Derek looked back at his uncle, hoping he wasn't that mad that he hadn't been listening to him. He wasn't, he just seemed taken aback.

Mokuba cleared his throat and started to say something, but Seto interrupted him.

"Derek, if you can't partake in this family discission, then leave." His voice was like an icy cold bucket of water been thrown over Derek.

Derek looked into his father's eyes, and without breaking eye contact; he pushed back his chair and exited the room, and headed to his bedroom.

Mokuba watched his nephew exit the room; he turned towards Seto.

"Why'd you do that Seto?" he sighed and looked at his older brother. "Derek's just a child, he didn't have to listen to me rabbiting on." He pulled a hand through his long, thick, black hair that still hung low around his back.

Seto pursed his lips together, and turned to face Mokuba.

"Derek may be a child, but he is also the future CEO to my company. He needs to learn how to act responsible and mature if he ever wants to run this company successfully. Discipline is the key to success." His voice was dry, and kind of irritated.

Mokuba rolled his eyes.

"Yes, but do you really need to treat him like this at such a young age...."

"If he wants to be a successful businessman like myself than yes. You can't build character on love."

".... But you can build trust on love." Mokuba stared at the elder Kaiba. "Which was something that you and I never got from our stepfather, and to be quite frank with you Seto you are really doing the same thing to Derek. Is that what you want? To have your son's childhood ruined like ours was?" Mokuba was trying to crack his fingers, something he did only when he was nervous.

"Stop that Mokuba." Seto snapped at him. "And another thing. Derek is the future CEO of this company, and I will teach him in the way that I see fitting." His eyes were shooting fireballs at his younger brother.

"Funny how he's never your son, only the future CEO of your company...." Mokuba muttered darkly staring down at his plate.

"THAT'S ENOUGH MOKUBA!" Seto sprang up from his seat, knocking his chair over.

Mokuba wiped his mouth with his napkin and threw it down on his plate.

"Your right Seto, that's enough. Good night."

And with that he got up and headed to his room.

In Derek's room, he could hear his father and uncle talking amongst themselves and then he heard his father yell at his uncle. He inwardly cringed. Seto had never yelled like that at Uncle Mokuba, he must be really pissed.

He gave a really loud sigh and shifted a bit on the window seat he was sitting on. He stared out to the deep blue sky and watched the full moon.

He heard a firm rap on the door, and then the creak of the hinges as the door was slowly opened.

"Derek?" the voice was low and deep yet soft.

Derek whipped his head around in surprise.

"Yes Uncle Mokuba?"

"Are you okay?" he sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him for Derek to sit down. "You know your father didn't mean to be so cold, but he does get annoyed when you don't use your manners."

Derek sat down on the spot Mokuba had patted without uttering a sound.

"Even if the conversation you are in is boring and uninteresting, you do have to listen." Mokuba paused letting his words sink in. "I really don't care if you don't listen to me, ya know." He gave Derek a lopsided smile. Derek gave a small smile back.

Mokuba pulled him in for a fierce bear hug; Derek replied by squeezing him tighter.

Derek sighed and snuggled closer to his uncle; he loved moments like this. This is what he craved; love. His uncle always made him feel like he was on cloud nine, which he was.

Mokuba heaved a big sigh, Derek knew what was coming.

"Derek..."

"Please don't leave just yet Uncle Mokuba, you just got back..." Derek looked up at Mokuba, his blue orbs filling quickly with tears.

"Sorry Derek, but your father wants me to fly over to Italy first thing in the morning to confirm a business deal that we need." He kissed him lightly on the forehead, then without a word, he got up and left, closing the door swiftly behind him.

"Alone again..." Derek mumbled to himself, pulling his knees up to hug his chest.

sorry for not updating this for a really long time, but I had a really bad case of writers block, and I really couldn't be bothered writing anyway.