Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Boooo!

Seto Kaiba started every day the same way.

He got up at six before his girlfriend of one year, Mai Kujaku without even a glance at her sleeping face and snatched something to wear before going into the bathroom. He took a hot shower for exactly two minutes, just enough time to get himself clean and rinse off. He had his half-Dominican, half-Japanese maid Inocencia prepare his breakfast: rice and fish, nice and simple. Sometimes he had miso, but that was only when he had time left over to waste, which was practically never. So occasionally would probably describe the variance better. If he had time left over (which, again, was rarely), he would usually do something productive involving his work, which mostly dealt with computers. But if he finished his breakfast in exactly three minutes (and he almost always did), he would have no time for that. But he always had time to slap a Post-it on the fridge for Mai because he always wrote those the night before. Then he hurried into his limo to go to work.

Kaiba followed a rigid schedule.

Quick.

Efficient.

Precise.

He knew exactly where his clothes were because he didn't fling them around like someone he knew. He knew the precise location of his razor, his comb and his toothbrush because they were in the bathroom, all lined up, always in the same order and in the same place. He knew the exact time his maid woke up and he could count on her being on her way to the penthouse as he slept. He knew that when he let her in, Inocencia would get to work without preamble because that was what she was: quick, efficient and professional, the exact reasons why he'd picked her.

Kaiba believed in order above everything else.

That was, until she came.

Mai stumbled into his life and he hadn't been able to get rid of her since. But in the beginning, when he was developing feelings for her, Kaiba hadn't wanted her to go anywhere. Oh, sure, at first he had hated her, but that was only because he'd judged her, just like everyone else.

But as he sized her up, he realized one thing:

They were exactly the same.

Mai was cold, snobbish and rude. Kaiba wasn't a scantily-clad duelist, but she was flashy. Breasts, thighs, legs, she had left almost nothing to the imagination. So he called her a whore and a bitch, but only with his eyes and a dismissive flick of his head. Mai Kujaku was not someone he needed to strain more brain cells over. Leave that to drooling mutts like Jounouchi. He would have none of that, and it wasn't like she actually mattered.

So when he snarled at her because she was being callous or overconfident (and almost always to himself, because of the aforementioned reason), he was also, in a way, insulting himself.

Mai wasn't a bitch just to be one. She was hiding a frail heart that had gone through many betrayals. Mai was a suspicious girl, always on guard for those who might take advantage of her or hurt her even more. But that confidence wasn't feigned, up to a certain point anyway. She had confidence in her skills as a duelist, but not in herself and that was what made her unapproachable. That was what made her push everyone away.

With Yugi and the others, she had found friendship and in the process became softer, no longer the harsh, barking woman she was before. But there was still that stubborn stain on her personality--

Alienation.

Mai still had a bit of difficulty trusting others. Sometimes, she was happy, very, very happy.

But other times she would curl up inside herself and not let anyone in.

Kaiba didn't need any friends.

Mai didn't need any friends.

But they were both so miserable.

Why?

If they only needed themselves, then why did Kaiba go to sleep every night with a hole in his heart?

And why did Mai lay her head on her pillow with tears in her eyes?

Why...

Why did he push away the one person who understood him?

There was one person missing in his daily morning routine.

It was true that he barely looked at her in the morning...

...And that the only acknowledgment he gave of her existence was a note to lock the door before going out...

But he thought about her every day, every second.

And now there was no one to read his messages anymore.

No one to write them to.

There was no one.

No one at all.

She was not in this empty mansion, which seemed even emptier without her.

Mai...

Seeing her cry for the last time had been the worst thing in the world for him, but in a way, he was glad. She was free and he was free.

Both of them should be doing a jig in the streets, not...

...crying, like he'd been doing for the past few days.

But only inside. Because no matter how hard he willed himself to cry...

...no tears would fill his eyes.

Kaiba was frozen again.

He'd done such a good job of pretending that now he had relearned that behavioral pattern.

That same isolation, the same frozenness that he'd been given ever since Gozaburo had adopted them.

Ever since his parents died and he was made an orphan with a brother to take care of.

But Kaiba was warm and kind to only Mokuba.

The rest of the world could go to hell.

And he'd honestly lived that life, only caring about his brother and himself until Mai came along.

Until Mai came along and ruined everything.

He could've made himself hate her for doing that.

He could've hated her for causing a scene when they were moving.

For giving him that look that was supposed to twist up his insides and for looking so damn beautiful while she was doing that...

And for crying and screaming...

For storming off without wearing something decent...

For getting mad at him when he told her to cover herself up since she was outside...

But instead, he could only feel...

...Regret.

Deep, scarring, painful regret for letting her go.

Regret for making things end this way.

Regret for not chasing after her and telling her how much he loved her, tackling and pinning her to the sidewalk if he had to.

Why had he screamed, "Well, fuck you too, bitch!" when she told him to have a nice life?

Of course Mai was going to be upset.

He'd meant to let it go, to let her say her piece and then walk out of his life.

She'd called him a feminine sanitary product and his response was to stoop down to her level.

Perhaps he was even more childish for responding.

He would never know.

He would never know because she was gone.

"Seto?"

Kaiba was holed up in his computer room, earnestly at work. Or at least trying to work anyway. But the dull glowing of the huge monitor wasn't really the most fascinating thing right now. He was mulling over memories and dreams of Mai. He couldn't refer to her as his ex. It hurt too much to think of her as crossed out of his life. Right now, he was thinking of her scent. That perfume she always used.

Audacity...

Mai wasn't the one with the audacity. Kaiba was. How could he have been so shameless as to throw her out? He hadn't even tried to stop her. All he had done was follow up his insult with, "Just get out, Kujaku. Get out and do me a favor: don't come back." He hadn't even checked to see if she had a place to go. There was her family, but he knew how crappy things were between them. What if she were out on the street? But then he shook his head. It couldn't be. It can't be, he thought fiercely as his shaking hand went for his cup of coffee. No, Mai is strong. She'd find a way. It's not like she's helpless without me. She's a woman.

A taunting, female voice cooed somewhere in his distant memories.

"You're a child..."

Mai had called him a little boy during their argument, but he was thinking of another time. A time when the older woman had smirked at him when he asked her to be his.

And then she laughed, pointing out again that he was--

"...just a child."

Eight years separated them and Mai had made it seem like an ocean stood between them, like he was so young and stupid and she was so mature and wise. The age difference was huge, but it didn't quite matter to him. He didn't see age when he saw Mai. He saw love. Pink, warm, overflowing love.

Others would scoff if they knew he was so sentimental. To an extent, he'd played down how much he loved her, but whenever they were alone...

Perhaps that was what kept them apart: Kaiba's slight fear of public affection.

Or perhaps Mai was right when she summed him up as a little boy.

Maybe he'd never know.

"Seto?"

Finally Kaiba turned around. He stood in the doorway of the shadowed room, an indeterminable expression on his face. Kaiba turned around in his leather swivel chair to face him. Putting forth a bland expression, he regarded his brother. "Hello, Mokuba," he greeted tonelessly. "Is there anything you need?"

Mokuba stepped forward. "I did as you asked, Seto," he responded in the same dead voice.

Seto struggled to insert some patience in his voice. "Yes, I know, Mokuba," Kaiba explained calmly. "You've been telling me that ever since you got back."

"Yes, but only because you haven't done anything about it." Mokuba gave him the same look he would give his elder brother whenever he wanted something: eyebrows angrily curved over pleading eyes, chin jutting out, lip pouted in defiance.

Usually the remedy for this would be for him to get up, smile, say something reassuring and rumple his hair. But he could not do this because it hadn't worked last time and it certainly wouldn't work now. Besides, Mokuba was too old for that.

Kaiba raised an eyebrow. "And just what is it that I should do?" he asked in a level tone.

Mokuba's face melted, but the matter was far from resolved. Determination glinted in his eyes as he said, "Get Sis back."

Kaiba allowed a cruel bark of a laugh to touch his lips. He himself was surprised at the outburst. " 'Sis'? I'm sorry, Mokuba, but my relationship with Mai is over. She isn't going to be your sister."

This time Mokuba used a sweet, husky voice to plead his case. "You can change that. You can get her back in our lives. In your life."

Kaiba turned back around with a groan, holding the bridge of his nose and allowing his palm to splash up against his forehead. He was burning up. He would've used the temperature of the room as an excuse, but that was impossible. The room was air-conditioned. "Just tell me... is everything okay? You never told me."

"Of course everything's okay." A hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up into his face, then back at his hand. Funny how that hand was so big and strong-looking, as if it could take down one of his shoulders permanently yet it looked so tiny at the same time. A scene of the two holding hands flashed through the archives of his memories. He could remember how small that hand had been in his own. Kaiba shook his head and cast one jeweled blue eye down on his brother. "The situation has been taken care of."

"I appreciate you doing this for me. You know that, right?"

Silence.

"I would've gone myself, but I have a lot of work to do. Plus, leaving Mai would've--"

"--looked suspicious." Mokuba sighed. "Yes. I know."

"So... Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. I'd do anything for you."

"Except drop the subject."

"Exactly."

"How was Singapore anyway?"

"It's a beautiful place, but Seto, you're changing the subject."

He sighed. "I know. I know. It's just that... it's hard for me. For people to talk about her when they don't even know her... It pisses me off."

"It hurts you." Mokuba gave his brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"She didn't do anything wrong--"

"Except love you. That's why you didn't go after her, so that you could protect her. Oh, but Seto, what the hell did you do to her? I saw her after everything," he explained for the millionth time. "She looked terrible and sick too. You should've seen her, she was trying so hard to look happy, too happy--"

"Mokuba!" When it came to his brother, Kaiba was as patient and understanding as a calm ocean, with the occasional undercurrents. Dear, sweet Seto let his brother do whatever he wanted, unless it involved doing something dangerous (or, more frequently back then, anything involving Yugi and his friends). He wouldn't have snapped at him like that, but when bad news is repeated to you over and over and over, the listening party most likely will snap. "I know. I know because you've told me over and over and over about how frail Mai is, how emotional. But what you don't realize is that she's strong. She can make it. She's like a fucking chameleon for God's sake. She can adapt to anything." A grim smile tumbled onto his lips as wry words fell from his mouth. "This douche isn't going to slow her down or defeat her. Right now, she's probably cursing me out. Wherever she is, whatever she's doing, she'll make it, all right? So just drop it."

"Can you?" he asked quietly, moodily.

"What?"

"Can you just drop it? Can you just let it go? Can you forget her? Can you?"

"I can do anything if I put my mind to it," Kaiba answered bitterly. "I've gotten through tougher ordeals. This will pass if I concentrate on what's really important." And here he finally injected some affection into his voice as he ruffled Mokuba's hair. "You and my company. Those are the only things that matter to me."

"Those shouldn't be the only reasons why you're happy."

Kaiba's smile faded. His hand dropped from the top of Mokuba's head like a dead fish.

"Mai's important too."

"I--I know, Mokuba. I know. It's just--"

The phone ringing in the other room interrupted the older male's side of the conversation. When it was clear that no one would answer it, Kaiba cursed loudly, springing up from his seat. Good help was so hard to come across these days.

"Slackers," he muttered, oblivious to the fact that the army of servants were out completing various tasks for him. Actually, there was nothing substantial that needed to be done. Kaiba was just feeling antisocial and didn't want anyone even in the same mansion as him, with his exception being Mokuba of course. But the definition might be changing somewhere if Mokuba was going to keep being so doggedly determined about the issue. Just like Mai, he thought. If she had pulled the same ignoring shit with me, I would've given her a piece of my mind and left. Why'd it take so long for her...? As he walked out of the room and to the table cradling the phone, he continued to rant to himself. It's my fault. I was lazy. I should've been outright about breaking up with her instead of hoping she'd leave me on her own. I just made things more painful, for myself and for her... and Mokuba. God, that kid loves her so much.

RIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!!!

He snatched the phone off the hook and held it to his ear. "Hello?" Kaiba snapped.

"Hello. Is Mai Kujaku there, sir?"

"Pardon?" he asked rudely, still not quite comprehending the request. He'd just been thinking about her when this call comes through to remind him even more of her. As if he needed reminding. His mind flew back to Mokuba's words. Could he just forget her? Kaiba knew he couldn't. He couldn't. She was the first woman he'd ever loved after all. First love was always the hardest to forget.

"Mai Kujaku." A tsunami of false excitement vibrated through the salesman's voice. "I have this amazing proposition for her. It's about a new cold cream--"

Kaiba's voice was flat yet a little fiery hardness sizzled in the core. "She doesn't live here anymore."

He didn't wait for the caller to fumble through his next sentence.