Title: S&R/TNG: The Unclean Prince

Author: Serena J

Rating: R for some sexual content

Genre(s): Romance, Angst

Pairing(s): Primary William/Mokuba

Spoilers: none

Beta: Mishiko

Disclaimer: Just the words, not the folks.

Summary: Ten years after Sow and Reap, Seto's son William must learn to love - and then learn to let go.

Chapter 2

My phone rang. Again.

I no longer kept my music so loud that I couldn't hear anything, but I still claimed to not hear people calling or banging on the door. I was pretty sure my fathers knew I was fibbing, but they let me get away with it.

I glanced at the missed call.

Uncle Mokuba.

There was a time when I wouldn't have needed to look. He had a special ringtone. I never ignored his calls, never locked the door to him.

It got too hard, though. Hearing his ring tone and knowing that he was going to be at the office late. Or that he was still overseas - or going overseas. Or that he wouldn't be able to come see me because he had a date.

Usually with a woman.

Uncle Moke never lied to me. He was as honest and open as he always was. He never pretended that he would ever defy my father to be with me. Or that, at heart, I was anything more than a favored nephew.

I sighed and looked out the western window at the trees that hid my sanctuary from the world. I was more to him than that. The problem, really, was that I wasn't the love of his life - the way he was for me. My uncle did not return the full depth of my feelings.

Quelle surprise.

The phone rang again. I looked in its direction. I should speak to him. It's not as if he didn't tell me what was going on.

We were in Tahiti.

My Master's Exhibit had not only been a huge success at my university, but museums worldwide had requested showings. I'd spent almost a year and a half touring the globe with it.

I had discovered, during that time, how important my family was to me. I missed them terribly while I was traveling. I came home as often as I could, and they came to visit me as their schedules allowed. But it wasn't nearly enough, and I spent most of the trip lonely and miserable.

I also learned that I no longer felt like every sexual innuendo aimed at me was an assault. For the first time in my life, sex wasn't a threat or a tool. It was a pleasure. I didn't stop using Uncle Ryuji's mental trick - that dispassion at will was far too useful - but I understood, finally, what Ryou-Sensei meant when he told me that there was a difference between sex for love or fun and sex for commerce or assault. Before, they had all been the same act to me. Uncle Moke taught me, however, that one act could have many feelings. The touch that used to bring only shame could also bring joy; force and capitulation were one thing, while desire and choice were quite another.

I even caught myself flirting once or twice. It was completely meaningless; my heart was taken and my body desired no one else.

The few times Uncle Moke came to see me, we spent every opportunity wrapped around each other, breathlessly giving and taking, until I was afraid I would die of bliss.

When the tour finally ended, Uncle Moke suggested that I take a vacation to recover, and Father - who had hinted that he suspected I had taken a lover during my tour - insisted that I take a chaperone. Uncle Moke volunteered.

He took me to Tahiti. The beach was glorious. The natives were enchanting. Mokuba was perfect. If I hadn't already been in love with him, I would have fallen under his spell as we sat on the moonlit beach and listened to the waves.

"William," he said one afternoon. "Nephew, we need to talk."

We were sitting on the beach, watching some local children making sand castles. I was thinking of building a sandbox behind my studio and taking up sand art.

"You always say that when you want to tell me about her." His American girlfriend. I'd met her by then. She was all the things you would expect in a woman who could keep Uncle's attention for longer than a day.

"I'm serious. We need to talk. I don't want to say this and you don't want to hear it, but…," he looked at me, "...but we both knew this wasn't forever."

I found myself shivering, despite the heat of the sun.

He put his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. "I wish things were different, William, I really do. But there is no way we can go any further." He smelled like coconut and sun and seawater. I focused on his scent and not his words. "This is the last time we can be together. When we get home, I'm..." He kissed my head again and held me tighter. "William, I'm getting married.

The words hurt. They hurt more than if he'd just stabbed me with a knife. "You can't," I whispered.

"It's time, William. It's past time. I have to grow up and I think Yvette's the right woman."

"She's a woman," I spat. I could feel tears forming. "You love me."

"William." He kissed my head again. "Of course I love you. You're my nephew. Whatever happens, you'll always be a part of my life. Nothing can change that."

I turned around and looked at him. "I mean you're in love with me. We're in love with each other."

His eyes seemed tearful, too. "You're my brother's son. Even if it were true that we were in love like that, how could we be more than secret lovers?"

I thought about that. It was true; no one in our family - no one we knew - would accept our relationship if we made it public. The resulting scandal might be enough to, quite literally, ruin the family name.

Dalit. Even with all that had happened, I was still Unclean - Untouchable - and now, my taint would defile everyone who'd touched me.

"William?" Uncle grabbed my chin, tried to make me look at him, but my eyes were too clouded with tears. "Talk to me, nephew! Don't shut me out."

"You promised you'd always be here for me!" I pushed away from him. Made myself stand up. "You said you loved me!"

"I do, and I will be. We're family, Will. That is so much more than being your lover." He stood up and stepped toward me. I took several steps away from him. "William, we need to talk this out."

"I don't want to talk this out!" I snapped. "Have you told Father yet?" I asked, praying he hadn't.

Uncle nodded. "Nii-sama and Noah both agreed to the marriage." He took a step closer. "William..."

I took a step back. "Have you asked her yet?" Maybe she'll say 'no'.

He gave a half-hearted smile. "Actually, she asked me. Last month." He laughed, embarrassed. "She told me to shit or get off the pot."

"And you shit," I snipped. His smile faded. "On me."

"That's not what's happening! Damn it! What do you expect me to do? You're only 17. You are my brother's son! Have you ever even thought about that? Do you know what I go through to keep us off security's radar? William, it doesn't matter how either of us feel, we are Kaiba. Seto talks about 'paying the cost', well, this is it, William. The cost of being Kaiba for you is that the man you love is totally out of your reach. And for me, it means I'm getting married whether I want to or not, and whether I love her or not. And then, I'm having a son so that the legacy is guaranteed - and the fact that you and your siblings, and Noah's kids will all inherit the 'mantle of power' long before any kid of mine is even considered is irrelevant! Don't think for one minute that you are the only one getting shafted here!"

"Then, stand up to him!" I threw myself into his arms. "If you feel as I do, defy him. We'll go somewhere together, just you and I."

He held me tightly and I found myself weeping.

Neither of us would defy Father. Neither of us would run away to some magic place where my father's security forces would not find us. I doubted there was a place - even a magical one - where they could not find us. Uncle Mokuba and I may have been in love with each other, but neither of us was willing to hurt my father so deeply. Neither of us was willing to tear our family apart so brutally.

He held me until I stopped weeping. Then he pulled me back and kissed my tears. "William, we have three more days. Three days to savor each other. I don't want to spend them mourning. This is fall, nephew. Winter is coming. Let's just enjoy the beauty that is now. Can we do that?"

I had to laugh, even through my tears. "You say things like that and I'm not supposed to love you?"

There wasn't anything else, really, that I needed to do to the portrait. Actually, it was probably done a day or two ago, but I'd been refusing to let it go.

I was acting as if the American service didn't count. As if the marriage wasn't real until the painting was finished. Of course that wasn't true. It wasn't even that I didn't like my new Aunt Yvette; she would have been lovely if she were marrying anyone else.

But much like the painting, I couldn't let him go.

My mood after we returned from my 'vacation' was more sullen and bad tempered than usual. I spent even more time in my studio making nothing worth the effort - although several of the pieces were critically acclaimed as 'masterful' and one was sold at a charity auction for almost a million yen.

It was junk. It was all junk.

It was something to justify spending my time in the studio, but my mind wasn't on creation. It was on the impending wedding.

Months went by before Uncle Moke barged into my studio. I had the music at full volume again, but I'd put a pressure plate for the lights on the hinge so that if the door opened, the lights flashed. Still, since the door had been locked, I didn't actually need to look up to see who had entered.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I am making glass." Clearly.

"That's not what I meant, damn it!" He sounded exasperated. "Why are you being such a royal bitch?"

"I have been told that when I am working, I am always a bit testy."

I reached for the tweezers, but Uncle grabbed them first. "Why are you being such a dick?"

I considered for a moment whether my uncle was truly that obtuse or if he was attempting some form of ironic humor. "I'm not sure how to respond to that. You can't really be asking me why I'm behaving like a jilted lover." I blew into the pipe again; another inch or so of length would be ok. "I am making glassware gifts this year for Christmas. And probably for Nobu and Papa's birthdays. Do you think my sister will like this color?"

He sighed. "If you make it, Auset will love it. I know you're angry with me, but do you have to treat Yvette like a leper?"

"Yes." I stood up and lifted the glass soon-to-be vase onto a paddle. I was reasonably satisfied with the overall shape; now it was time to start adding details.

"William..." Uncle Moke's shoulders fell. "What do you want me to do here?"

"Break the engagement and come back to me." That statement should have been as obvious and as unnecessary as pointing out that the vat of liquid glass was "hot".

"You know I can't do that."

"You asked what I wanted." I knew I was being petulant, but I honestly didn't care. "Not what was possible." I reached out and waited for him to hand me back the tweezers. I used them to begin pulling out broad shapes that would eventually become leaves.

"Why are you being so childish about this?"

I couldn't answer that. I wasn't entirely sure. I wanted to like her. I wanted to have my uncle back, at least, if I'd truly lost my lover.

But every time I looked at either of them, I felt sick. I felt my heart sink. I thought of my fathers and wondered why they had a love that lasted throughout the ages and mine could not last a year.

Once Dalit, always Dalit. Anything I touch becomes defiled. The men who purchased me when I was on the streets, they didn't defile me. I defiled them because I am - and always will be...

...Unclean. Karma is a bitch.

"William!" Uncle Mokuba had both his hands on my cheeks. "Come back."

I was going to cry again. I couldn't stop myself.

"You always go there, don't you?" he asked softly. He pulled me into his arms. "You are Kaiba, William. Your karma is ours. Nothing else matters."

He always seemed to know what I was thinking. How could I stop loving him?

I did spend some time with her. I could hardly blame her for falling in love with him. If I had to lose him, she was a tolerable choice. Almost.

I went back to America with them in part to oversee a new KaibaGames product launch - high end, diecast figurines of ultra rare cards, rendered in full color. We had given a complete set to Grandpa Mutou for display before we released them to the general market and he sold out the day he got his first shipment. Father was hoping US sales would be as strong. I was just hoping that the factories mass-producing the small statues I had designed had quality control standards.

Uncle Mokuba and I toured one facility, and I looked over some of the finished products.

"No," I said as soon as I opened the box of Red-Eyed Black Dragons.

"No?" The idiot who'd been leading the tour looked at my uncle. "No, what? Who is this kid, anyhow?"

Uncle ignored him and looked in the box. "What's wrong with them?"

I pulled one out. "The tail." He looked at it more specifically, but didn't see the problem. "It curves to the left."

"Ok," Uncle said, still not getting it.

"Black dragon is on the right, white dragon is on the left, red is in the center." I touched his right arm, lightly traced the black dragon hidden under his sleeve. "Always."

He got it then. "Always?" I looked back at the stock so I didn't cry looking at him. He cleared his throat and turned back to the Americans. "Either you guys have the wrong die or it's installed backward. All of these are trash. William, can they be melted down?"

I looked over the pieces. "They have to be striped of color first." I took a breath and pulled myself together. "And I want to oversee the die correction. How did no one know what the end product was supposed to look like?"

"That's a lot of materials! The cost...!" The factory man started to protest. "Mr. Kaiba, I appreciate you all want tight quality here, but we can sell those as..."

"You're fired," Uncle said flatly. He turned to his security man. "Take him back to his office, give him ten minutes to clean out his desk, and then escort him to the lobby. Personnel will bring your last check there. You, in the short skirt; get the rest of the management staff in a conference room in five minutes. Nephew, go look at anything you want; if it's wrong, figure out why and fire whomever's responsible."

"They are calling it the 'Return of Gozaburo'," Uncle Noah laughed. We were having a three-way video conference call. "I've been getting nothing for a day but panicked managers calling to see when they will be inspected. I've told them all 'next'."

Father laughed too. "Brother, you've outdone yourself. I'm sorry I missed what must have been quite a show."

"It wasn't all that," Uncle deferred with an embarrassed laugh. "That asshole just pissed me off! I mean, come on! I've been to the Ford plant. They don't give shit to guys named 'Ford'. William told him the stock was bad; that should have ended it." Uncle looked at me. "They used to treat me the same way. They assumed because I was young, I didn't know shit."

"I suspect they won't be making that mistake again," Uncle Noah chuckled.

"No, indeed," Father agreed. "Son, I want you to stay in America with Mokuba, take over KaibaGames US operations and oversee this launch."

I stared at him. I'd only recently turned 17. I'd worked on small products over the years, but I'd never even headed a team, never mind an entire division.

He smiled reassuringly. "I have every faith that you will rise to this challenge. Use the competent staff who are there, remove the staff who are in the way. Mokuba is there if you need him and I am merely a phone call away."

"But what if I make a mistake?" I asked, praying that this was one of Father's 'jokes'.

"You'll learn from it," Father said. "Of course, if we take a loss, I'll take it out of your allowance."

"Ok, Tak, move!" Papa leaned over Father's shoulder, his cascade of blond hair blocking Father's face for a moment. "Hey, Wolf! How's it going out there? You ok? You look pale; are you taking those supplements I sent you?"

"I'm fine, Papa." Even with just the family, it was mortifying.

"If you're going to embarrass the boy, Joey," I heard Dad say from off-screen, "ask him about the blind date."

A friend of Yvette's; he and I had dinner, and I was home - alone - before 9pm. "It was fine, thanks." I said before Papa asked.

"I am in my office, working." Father looked at his spouses a little more amused than annoyed.

"Yeah, well you said you'd take the day off, so if you're on the phone with him, I get to talk to my kid!" Papa turned back to me. "You haven't called since you got there, so I've been worried. Are you eating right?"

"Papa, please. I promise I'll call tonight."

He frowned. "It's just the family, Will. Don't get all huffy. You're still my kid and I still get to worry about you."

"Yes, Papa." Rolling my eyes would only get me grounded.

"And you can always call whoever it was you met in Tahiti," Dad added from the background.

"I didn't meet anyone there," I insisted yet again.

"Riiiiight." Papa smirked. "Cause I'm too old to know what a teen with a broken heart looks like."

"Papa - please!"

"Yes, Joey, please!" Father pleaded on my behalf. "You have embarrassed the boy enough for one day! William, I trust you. Noah, I'll probably come in this afternoon." Uncle Noah snickered. "Mokuba," Father chuckled. "Don't kill anyone. I'm not sure I can get you off of that charge."

"Bye guys!" Papa yelled as the screen went dark.

"I should be going too." Uncle Noah looked at his watch. "I have a meeting with the bank in a few minutes. And, for the record, William, I won't consider it a loss if you keep it under ten thousand yen. Mokuba, your quarter end stats are late. I need them today."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Uncle Moke hung up and groaned. "I hate stats! That'll kill my whole day."

"Uncle..." I gaped at the empty screen. "I - I can't do this! I -"

"William!" He grabbed me by the shoulders.

Then he kissed me. Our arms slowly slipped around one another and I was completely limp in his arms when his lips released mine.

"You can do this, William," he whispered. "I have faith in you, too." He kissed me again - once, lightly - then left the room.

I fell into the nearest chair. It was too much. Uncle, Father, they were both more than any one person should have to cope with.

I did touch-up the background on Uncle Mokuba's portrait. Ryou-Sensei would have to be careful of wet paint when I finally hung it.

I picked up the photo I was working from and studied it for a moment. I usually worked from photos; live models were frustrating. They moved, they talked.

In Uncle's case, they made irresistible passes at me while I was trying to work. Nearly all of my positive sexual history had happened in my studio.

Almost all of it with Uncle. Almost.

The first weekend in September, I took a private plane from our factory in Louisiana to West Virginia.

I was not alone.

"Wolf, come on - just be nice to the guy, ok?" Papa was still asking not telling me, but I really didn't want to go to this damn wedding in the first place. "I haven't seen him since I was, like, your age."

"Then why is he attending?" I hated babysitting.

"Because weddings are when you see distant, long-lost family! Look, William, it's already set. The plane's picking him up in Chicago and bringing you both to Richmond. You're going to drive up from there."

"Drive?" That would take hours! "Why can't we just fly all the way in?"

"How the hell do I know? Some asshole at the FAA - permits or something. We'll get it fixed eventually, but it doesn't matter now. They got one of those tour bus things for you guys, right? It's even got a bedroom so if you really can't stand my cousin, you can pretend to sleep the whole trip and ignore him." He paused for effect. "You know, like you always do on family road trips."

It wasn't as if the end was in doubt. I was going to West Virginia. I was going with my distant cousin Jesse.

Jesse was blond with the same cascade of thick hair, the same deep amber eyes as Papa. My cousin resembled Papa in many respects, in fact - not the least of which being his extroverted nature.

"Wow! We're related?" he said when I offered my hand in greeting. "That sucks. You're a hottie."

I wasn't entirely sure how to take the comment - although I had to admit to having a similar response when I saw him enter the lounge at O'Hara. "I am adopted. Papa - your cousin Katsuya - is my adopted father's husband."

"Kat-sue-ya? Oh, right! His Japanese name! He's always been just plain old Joey to me." He laughed. "He used to have the best car - this blue mustang!"

"He still does. He let my sister drive it until she scratched the paint on the door handle. He was very upset." I had to smile; Papa raged about it for weeks. "Now, no one's allowed to even touch it except Papa."

He laughed. We exchanged some basic information - age, education, occupation - as the plane took off. Once we were in the air, the co-pilot came out of the cabin.

"Gentlemen, I'm afraid we're a bit short-handed on this flight. We usually have an attendant, but you'll have to fend for yourselves this time. We have snacks in here, and drinks are in this one. The cold sodas and lunch plates are in the cold case - you've got to open the latch here to get in it. And there's a microwave and coffee in that cabinet behind you. If you need anything else, just buzz and one of us will come out."

As soon as the co-pilot went back into the cockpit, Jesse got up and opened the drinks storage. "God damn! This is fully stocked! Hey, whatcha want?"

"Tea is fine." I rarely drank.

"Aw, come on. I went to Bartending College; let me make you something." He gave me a pleading look remarkably similar to the look Papa gives Dad and Father. "Live a little."

I tried to think of something obscure. "A Tahitian Lady."

"Uh, ok. Ok. Ok. Hang on." He checked the cold storage and pulled out several things. "Perfect!" He began opening, pouring, shaking and muttering to himself. I watched the process as much across his expressions as in his actions. A frown as he seemed unsure. His lips twisted as he mentally debated a decision. The smile of satisfaction as something met his internal approval. "Here." He handed me a glass that looked very much like the drink Uncle Mokuba and I lived on while on the island.

I sipped it and was reminded of sun and sand and making love under star-filled skies.

"I do something wrong?" he asked.

"No. It's perfect."

"You're pissed 'cause it's perfect?"

"Good drink, bad memories."

"Oooohh!" He nodded. "The ex. Yeah, I can't drink strawberry daiquiris anymore. Same thing."

I almost denied the assessment, but nodded instead.

He made a much simpler drink for himself and sat across from me. "He was one of those guys you know you shouldn't even look at, but you can't stop yourself, you know? It's like, you know even the fantasy is a bad idea, but when he asked me out, I couldn't even think the word 'no'."

I nodded again. I knew the type intimately.

Jesse sipped his drink thoughtfully. "But damn, he was hot! Perfect skin - that dark blue-black, you know? His parents were from Senegal. He had these perfect teeth and, oh man!" He looked at me and blushed faintly. "Sorry. Nobody wants to hear this kind of stuff."

I sipped my drink and shrugged. "At least if I'm listening to yours, I'm not talking about mine."

"True." He chuckled. "So? Yours?"

I choose my words carefully. "He was Japanese - black hair, black eyes, athletic build."

"Yeah, it's kind of hard not to find a hot J-guy. So what happened?"

I paused. "His family decided that he should get married. To a woman, of course."

"I guess in Japan, you can't just say, 'fuck off' and head for the coast." He smiled ruefully.

"Not in certain families." I smirked. "His probably owns the coast."

"Man, that sucks!"

"And yours?"

He sighed. "Jerk. He's in this band, right? I find out he's doing the whole band! Guys, girls, they just all pile into one bed and whatever happens, happens." He shook his head. "I'm cool if other people do that kind of stuff, but not MY guy, you know?"

"Mine never stopped dating other people," I admitted. "He'd even call me to cancel our date if there was a better option."

"Better option?" Jesse looked shocked. "Better than you? Seriously? Lucky jerk! I've never dated a guy as hot as you."

"What about the perfect Senegalese?"

"He was hot, seriously, but you look like one of those guys in those Bollywood movies!"

I laughed. "When I was a child, I dreamed about being able to afford to see one of those movies. After I was fostered, Ryou-Sensei - my foster-father - asked me what I wanted to do for fun and I said watch a movie. So he got me an account online and I spent every free moment I had watching every Bollywood production I could download."

He laughed too, warmly. I realized I'd never shared that with anyone. I also realized that my glass was empty.

"Here. I got it." Jesse got up and made a second round of drinks.

By the time we landed, the bar was empty and Jesse and I were far too full.

The wedding had been as hard for Jesse as it had for me. His lover had proposed to him. They were planning a trip to California to marry when Jesse learned of the band's sleeping arrangements.

After the ceremony, Jesse had come to my hotel room, red-eyed and unsteady, asking if he could stay with me. He was very clear about where he wanted to 'stay'. I let him in.

As soon as I closed the door, Jesse fell on me. Kissed me. I was too surprised to stop him.

"Look, I know you don't want me, but I just can't be alone tonight. Not after that. Just let me forget him, just for tonight. Please?"

He held me desperately and, after a moment, I put my arms around him. To forget. Even for only one night.

Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was our combined need. I don't know. Jesse kissed me again and this time I responded.

He began undressing; I was only wearing a robe so there wasn't much to remove. Even so, I waited until Jesse was bare to open the loose belt and let the garment hang open. He pushed it off my shoulders, and began kissing and nipping my neck.

We clung to each other. It wasn't making love, as it had been with Uncle Moke. But it wasn't degrading, as it was when I was a child. I tried to make Jesse feel like someone cared. Help him feel less alone, less hurt. Less like something dalit, untouchable, unwanted.

When I woke in the morning, Jesse was still in my arms and I confess that I was glad to find him there. It made me feel less dalit too.

When we left the hotel room, Uncle Mokuba and Aunt Yvette were leaving their room at the same time. My uncle's eyes narrowed as Jesse draped his arms around my neck.

"Thank you," Jesse said just before kissing me deeply.

I saw Uncle's jaw stiffen before I closed my eyes and gave in to Jesse's needs. When we released each other, my Uncle was gone.

There was no getting around it; there was nothing else I could do to my uncle's portrait without ruining it. It was finished.

Now, I should call Ryou-Sensei so he can get it and hang it in just the right place with just the right amount of light. Ryou-Sensei always did everything just the right way. He was as close to perfect as any human could expect to be. His husband, Uncle Ryuji, was a train wreck in comparison. Uncle Ryuji was always in a stir about something where Ryou-Sensei was always calm and serene. Living with them had been an adventure.

Ryou-Sensei wasn't in a stir over the final painting, but he had made me very aware of the past due deadline. Frequently.

I should call him and call the painting finished.

Call the relationship finished.

I had to let go, I knew that intellectually. My head understood that we could not be together. That he and Yvette were good together.

But my heart... My heart still pounded when he smiled at me, still ached when he looked at her, still broke at the thought of letting go.

I picked up the paintbrush again. Maybe I could do a few last minute touch-ups.

I spent most of my time at factories in the US replacing the die cast molds, and training staff to recognize the right quality of materials and the right quality of finished products.

I made sure that each quality control manager had a perfect, complete set on his or her desk to judge all others by. It was already November; we had to get shipments to stores by the 15th at the latest.

I learned to read spreadsheets. I learned how to yell at people who would not listen and how to teach people who would not learn. I did fire several people. I also promoted from within the company every time I fired someone.

I didn't see Uncle Mokuba. In truth, I didn't even have time to think about him most days.

I was surprised at the number of staff who attempted to curry favor by offering their bodies to me. The subtle ones amused me; the blatant ones, however, brought back too many of my own bad memories. I turned them all down, of course.

By December 5th, the November sales figures had started to roll in and Uncle Noah insisted that I sit in on the weekly management meeting. I was a nervous wreck by the time Uncle Mokuba read off the sales numbers for the US operations.

"Top of the month was in line with last year. The whole industry's down, so it wasn't like I was expecting some huge numbers."

"True," Father agreed. "But you only sent the number through the 15th. I'm sure you have some dramatic reveal?"

Uncle smiled. "Yep." He leaned over and tapped his computer. A moment later, I received an email with the subject 'William's first sales figures'.

I nearly hyperventilated as I opened the attached spreadsheet and saw the graphs. The numbers were daily and the slope was nearly flat.

Uncle Noah whistled. "Very impressive. Your cousin Ryuka will be most envious; her first numbers weren't nearly as good."

"You're comparing apples and oranges, cousin," Father pointed out. "Ryuka went into a hostile market and sold a technology that had already failed once in the region. Given the impediments, I think her..."

Father and Uncle Noah often argued over which child had the best numbers - grades, sales, percentages. It didn't even matter which 'child' - Kaiba, Honda, Mutou, Jounouchi; the important part for them was which entity got the gain or loss.

I ignored the discussion. I hadn't taken a loss, but the figurines were expensive to make and these kinds of sales meant that my high artistic ideals would do little for the company bottom line.

"William? Son? Surely you have something to say in all this?" Father got my attention.

"I'm sorry." I sighed. "I'll come home now. I guess I'm not really 'Kaiba' after all." I hung up the phone, which disconnected the audio and video.

I could go home and lock myself in my studio. I still had Christmas gifts to make. I hadn't made birthday gifts for Nobu or Papa. I only had nine months left to come up with something spectacular for Uncle Moke's wedding.

In nine months, the man I loved was going to marry some woman. Maybe I could do a life-sized sculpture of us making love before I slit my wrists.

Dalit.

There was a knock on my office door.

"Mr. Kaiba?" My secretary, Gail Herger, was a very nice young woman who did everything she could to make me feel at home in the office. She knew far more about KaibaGames' products and sales than I would ever care to. She should be the one running this office. Her numbers wouldn't have been flat.

The door opened and Gail came in. "I'm sorry, William, sir, but your Uncle told me if you didn't answer I should come in and show you the projection on page 6."

"Why don't you have this job?" I asked her.

"What?" She looked like the question caught her off guard.

"When I go home - tomorrow probably - I want you to take over this position."

"But I haven't finished my degree yet!" I shrugged. She shook her head and clicked through my computer screens. "Personnel won't approve a promotion like that. Here."

"I'll tell my father. He'll come interview you. He'll do it. You're just the kind of woman he likes."

"Excuse me?" She looked shocked and a little offended.

"Not like that. You remind me of Mazaki Anzu."

"The VP?" I nodded. "Oh." She smiled. "Thanks. I met her once. She's actually the one who encouraged me to get my degree. Well, she encouraged the whole department, but -"

"But yes, Aunt Anzu's like that. She's always encouraging people. Even those that don't deserve it."

"What?"

I shook my head. "So what did Uncle Mokuba send you to show me? Apart from my dismal failure to live up to the family name."

"That's a failure?" She looked stunned. "What did they expect -" she stopped suddenly. "Wait - you only looked at the dailies, didn't you?" I shrugged. "Ok. This line is actual sales as far as we have them. Then from here are projected sales if they follow the standard market deviation. This is ten percent over standard and this is ten percent under. And this green line is what your sales will be if they follow the current actual trend."

I looked at the charts. The lines stacked neatly with my projected sales well above the ten+ line. I leaned forward and really tried to understand what I was seeing. It looked like the sales had gone up a percent every other day, but the projection showed them increase exponentially; by the week before Christmas, the numbers should be closer to a thirty percent a day increase.

I scrolled back to the first sheet. The line was flat because the increments were single percents.

I hit my speed dial.

"You ok?" Uncle Mokuba asked as soon as he picked up.

"Why did you make up those projections?"

"I didn't make up shit, dude! Those are based on the orders that are already flooding in! The factory line's already bitching that there's no way they can meet demand and stick to your requirements."

"I don't want people thinking I make crap!" I snapped.

"Relax, Will. I told them to add another shift. I'll have another QCR sent out from each plant, and you can train them." He chuckled. "It's not like you were doing anything with your free time."

"It's not like you leave me with any free time, asshole."

He laughed warmly, and then switched to Japanese. "I wish I could congratulate you properly, Nephew."

"I wish you loved me as you said you did, Uncle," I growled in kind. "But you don't and I hate you for reminding me!" I tapped the button, disconnecting the phone before he could reply. I turned to the wall and tried desperately not to let the tears fall.

"Uh, Mr. Kaiba?" Gail sounded like she understood the exchange, if not the language. "Are you...do you need anything?"

A heart of stone, perhaps. "No."

"Oh. Ok." She stood there for another moment. "I'll just...I have...things."

"Fine. Yes. Thank you." I waved a vague dismissal.

I heard the door open, then after a long pause, close.

"Mr..." She touched my shoulder and instinctively, I yanked it away. "William. I know, once the QCR's get here, you won't have much time, but I thought, well, tonight some of us are getting together after work. Nothing special, really, Amy, Brett and me usually get together on Wednesday night because Harry's has half priced Hippos. It's really just a chance to bitch about the boss and the boyfriend and, you know..." Her voice petered out. "It was just...ok. I'm going back to my desk now." This time the door opened and closed immediately.

I could have called Uncle Mokuba and talked about how much that 'light hearted' comment tore my heart open again. I could have called Gail, thanked her for the effort to comfort me, and accepted the invitation to do something other than sulk.

What I did was email Father asking if I could come home on the first flight to Tokyo.

Fifteen minutes later, Gail buzzed me. "Mr. Kaiba, I have a Honda Hiroto on line one for you."

I banged my head against the desk. If Father was asking Uncle Hiro to call me, the family must think I'm practically suicidal! "Thank you, Gail," I responded. I took a deep breath, then picked up the receiver and picked up the call. "Hello Uncle Hiroto; how are you?"

"I'm fine, Anzu's fine, Hianko, the twins, and the dog are all fine. How are you - and if you say 'fine', just remember I've been doing this a lot longer than you have."

Uncle Hiro taught Sociology and Psychology at a bunch of different places and half the time could practically read minds. His favorite hobby was catching my fathers in 'bullshit'. Almost nobody could beat him at poker because he could always tell if you were bluffing.

"I'm not good at this office stuff," I said simply. "The reports are too complicated - they give me a headache. And I don't like everyone asking me what to do. It's not that hard - I already did the creating, they just need to re-produce what I made! Plus, I haven't had time to create anything new since I got here! I set up an easel here in the office, but people kept pestering me to see what I'm working on."

"So set one up..."

"In my hotel room, yes, obviously. The hotel bitched because I got paint on their heinous beige walls. I'm contemplating repainting the entire room as a service to good taste." I sighed. "I just want to come home."

Uncle Hiro chuckled softly. "You sound frustrated, irritated and stressed."

"Really? How perceptive, Uncle."

He laughed openly. "Well, I had a little college so I can figure some of this stuff out." He settled down. "Seriously, Will, is it so unbearable that you really can't finish the project? How much is left?"

I sighed again and thought about it. The new quality control people needed to be trained and I didn't trust anyone else to do that. But most of the rest, Gail could take over now. We were only concerned about the Christmas sales; after that, the figurines would be rolled into the regular stock.

"A week if the new employees get here tomorrow. And if Gail can take over this desk."

"Ok. Talk to Mokuba about getting the new people in ASAP. Who's Gail and what does she need to take over?"

"She's my secretary, but she should be the department head. She actually understands all this stuff. She said she doesn't have a degree so they won't promote her, which is stupid! Her caste has nothing to do with her abilities."

Uncle Hiro was silent for a moment. "No, William. No one's caste has anything to do with their abilities. You're an artist, not an executive, and we are all very, very proud of you just as you are."

I wanted to speak, but found myself shaking and close to tears again.

"I'll tell Seto to call Gail. If she really is qualified, I'm sure he can fix whatever Personnel's problem is. And I'll call Mokuba about the new people. Why don't you go to an art gallery or something; get out of the office and go do something fun?"