Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mokuba's school let out early for the holidays. Seto peered through the crack of his door to find the teen laid out across his bed, leaning on his elbows as he flipped through the old photo album. The box of their old life was sitting open at the foot of his bed. On the nightstand, the only picture of him with their mother was framed and placed next to one of the two brothers. Fear nudged a little harder and Seto had to dig his nails into his palms to stay it. He pushed the door open the rest of the way.

Mokuba glanced over, looked away, then looked back with wide-eyed astonishment. "What the hell happened to your face?"

Seto rubbed a fist against his cheek, where he was certain an ugly red bruise was starting to form. No doubt tomorrow it would look swollen and purple, but Seto didn't have time to worry about that right now.

"Can I come in?" Seto asked.

Mokuba stared at him, but didn't answer. It was better than a refusal, Seto figured, so he entered and sat on the bed next to him. He leaned forward on his knees, clasped his hands together, and pressed them into his forehead.

"I messed up," he said.

Mokuba scoffed. "More like someone messed you up. Bout time."

"I know, I'm… I'm sorry."

There was silence for a long moment.

The bed dipped as Mokuba sat up. "You never apologize."

"I know."

More silence.

Seto took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for everything. There are no excuses. I've neglected you because of my own failings. It was the only way I knew to keep you safe. It was easier for me to distance myself and that was wrong."

"Keep me safe from what?"

"From knowing the truth. I've been trying to run from it for a very long time. I thought I could put it behind me, but nothing I did worked. There was always something to remind me of it. I was always afraid of what you would think of me if you knew. I never wanted to disappoint you, but I failed at that."

There was a rustling as Mokuba pushed his comic book aside, then the mattress next to Seto sagged. "Tell me."

Mokuba's mouth had gone tight. His eyes were intense, focused, determined. "I'm not a kid anymore. I can handle it."

"I know." Seto let his hands fall and rubbed his palms together. "I still see you as you were when you were little. I suppose I was unwilling to see that you'd grown up."

"Don't know how. I cuss way more than I used to."

Seto chuckled, and it felt good. The fear slunk back into its hole, with only the sharp point of its blade peeking out.

Seto told him everything. About the abuse and the threats. About their deal that kept Mokuba safe from it all. Once he started, he couldn't stop. At least until he reached the point of no return, the night that changed everything. His mouth went dry, he swallowed, then word by agonizing word Seto told Mokuba about that night. He couldn't look at him as he relayed the events, so he kept his head in his hands as he talked. It helped to pretend that it was Kisa he was explaining it to. The assault. The shooting. The aftermath. He tried not to leave anything out.

After it was done they sat in silence for a long time.

"I thought-" Mokuba cleared his throat. "No one would tell me what happened to him. I'd ask and ask but they all just looked away. I'd heard the shot, but I guess after a while I just assumed he'd killed himself."

"He was too proud for that."

"Yeah… you're right." Mokuba let his ankles beat against the bed frame. "I wish you'd told me sooner. I wouldn't have been such a… you know… such an asshole."

Seto looked at him, a half-smile on his face. "I would have used a lighter term."

"Like what?"

"Brat."

Mokuba laughed. "Can you blame me? You work all the time and I never get to hang out with you."

"That's because of another fear of mine I let take over my life."

"What's that?"

Seto had to look away again. "For the longest time, I believed myself cursed, so to speak. Everyone I ever loved seemed to die. Mother… Father… I blamed myself. If I didn't feel for them so strongly, then perhaps they would have survived."

"That sounds kinda dumb, you know."

"I know. It was a fear I couldn't put a name to until I remembered where it came from. Until Kisa and Aunt Moriko and everything from our past reminded me of it. It isn't rational, but fear rarely is."

The hot blade of fear nudged at his heart. Seto bit it back. He took Mokuba's shoulder in one hand and forced himself to look the boy in the eyes. He had to rush out the words before fear could take hold again.

"I love you, Mokuba. No matter what I've done, nothing has changed that and I hope…" He had to stop to catch his breath. Tears pricked at his eyes, threatening to fall. "I hope you can forgive me."

Mokuba stared at Seto and tears began to leak from his eyes. Slow at first, then faster as he reached up and tried to wipe them away. Seto rubbed his shoulder, only for Mokuba to lean into him and press his face into Seto's shoulder.

Then Seto was crying. He wrapped his arms around Mokuba's shoulders and rested his cheek against his hair. "I'm sorry."

Mokuba shook his head and sobbed. "I'm an asshole!"

Seto laughed through his tears, holding his little brother tighter. "I'll do whatever I have to do to fix this. I promise."

Mokuba pushed away, wiped at his nose with his sleeve. "No more working on the weekends?"

"I think I can manage that."

"And be home for dinner?"

"Perhaps not every day, but I'll try."

"And go to all my games? Watch movies? Play video games? Eat lots of pizza and ice cream?"

Seto grimaced. "Maybe not that last part."

Mokuba laughed and it was the most wonderful sound Seto had heard in weeks. He reached up and ruffled the boy's hair and for a moment it felt like everything was going to be okay. He had his little brother back.

"Hey, uh…" Mokuba wiped his face. He leaned over, reached under the bed, and pulled out a misshapen package wrapped in glossy Christmas wrapping paper. "Here, I was gonna give this back at Christmas, but, I dunno. Maybe you should have it now."

Seto rubbed a fist across his uninjured cheek before taking the package. The poorly taped seams fell away at the slightest touch. He cradled the open package in his hands, smiling down at the old chess trophy. The knight and his rearing horse had been glued back onto their legs.

"Sorry I broke it," Mokuba said.

"It's just an old trophy." He gave his little brother a meaningful look. "You're more important."

Mokuba cast his eyes down. "I'm sorry about Kisa too."

Seto's smile fell. The edges of the void came back into focus. "What's done is done. I never should have jumped into anything like that without making sure you approved first."

"You don't need my approval to date, you know?"

Seto raised a brow.

Mokuba flushed. "I just said all that stuff cause I was pissed and jealous. I like Kisa. She's cool. Like, girl you don't take home to mom, cool. Pretty hot too. I always thought you'd end up with one of those…" He waved a hand in the air. "You know, the high-class ladies with a lotta face work."

"Kisa called them bimbos."

Mokuba laughed. "See That's why I like her. You're gonna talk to her, right? Apologize, like you did with me?"

Seto shook his head. "I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"What d'you mean?"

"Kisa's flying back to Germany after her show tonight."

"So? You got her number, right? Call her."

"Mokuba-"

"Uh-uh. No excuses, remember?"

Seto chuckled with a shake of his head and set the trophy down. "You win."

Mokuba huffed. "Bout time."

Seto didn't deem the comment with a response as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He pulled up Kisa's contact profile, pressed her number, and put the phone up to his ear.

It rang… and rang… and rang… and rang…

"Hi! It's Kisa. I can't come to the phone right now. Just leave a message and I'll get back to you… eventually."

Seto pulled the phone away and ended the call. His heart felt heavy in his chest. "It rang to voicemail."

"Try again."

"Mokuba, I don't think-"

"Shut up and call your damn girlfriend again."

Seto stared at him, but when Mokuba didn't budge he sighed and redialed. Once again it rang… and rang… and rang… and-

"Kisa, phone!"

"Rin?" Seto asked.

Mokuba perked up, brows to his hairline. "Her sisters are there?"

"Yup! Kisa's getting her makeup done."

"I need to talk to her," Seto said. "It's urgent."

"Hold on." When Rin next spoke her voice was far away. "Kisa! Seto's on the phone! He says it's urgent."

There was a muttering of conversation that Seto couldn't quite hear. He tried to listen, heart in his throat, daring not to breathe.

Rin came back. "Um… Sorry. Kisa says she doesn't wanna talk to you."

"Rin, please, this is important."

"Well, uh… let me try ag- Hey!" There was a scuffle and harsh static from what sounded like the phone being forced out of Rin's hand. "Kisa, wait!"

The line went dead.

Seto sat there for many long seconds, listening to the dial tone. He felt hollow. Empty. Kisa didn't want to talk to him. It was over. He was never getting her back. He pulled the phone from his ear, but his fingers didn't have the strength to hold it. It slipped out of his hand and onto the floor.

"What'd she say?" Mokuba sounded as if he didn't want to know.

Seto eased a trembling hand through his hair. "She hung up."

Mokuba got to his feet, went to where he had thrown his shoes, and jammed them on his feet.

"What are you doing?" Seto asked.

"What d'you think? We're going to the stadium."

"Mokuba, it's over. I've made a mistake and I'm paying for it. There is nothing-"

"You're not going back to how you were." Mokuba sounded determined, almost angry. "You never looked happy, not since we got adopted. You hardly ever smiled. You never laughed. I'm not letting you go back to that. If Kisa makes you happy, then you're damn well gonna go to that stadium and tell her, even if I have to drag you there to do it." His shoulders heaved with indignant rage. "I'm not gonna settle with a hollow shell for a brother. I want all of you back."

Seto could almost feel the blood pulsing through his veins. It was now, or never. He either went and got back the only woman he'd ever loved, or he lived the rest of his life without her. Peace, or misery.

It was an easy choice to make.

Seto got to his feet and walked past Mokuba, into the hall.

Mokuba was right behind him. "What time does she go on stage?"

"Six."

Mokuba pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. "Think we can get across town in forty minutes?"

"If we don't, then I'm eating whatever damn pizza you want."

"Don't tempt me."