V
The rest of the car ride was quiet and foreboding, racing at a steady, inexorable pace towards the Mansion and Mokuba.
At first the silence and Seto's anxiety were so overwhelming that all thoughts beyond impending doom were flushed out of his mind. Isono felt the shame of Kaiba's retort deeply and resolved to turn his full attention to the road not to endanger them, and Kaiba himself made no attempts at reviving conversation. But as the initial terror started to disperse, Seto inevitably began to contemplate the idea of Mokuba… and to his surprise, his mind conjured up an image that Seto had not been aware existed: a photograph of a young teenager with long dark hair and large dark blue eyes – just over 13 years old as of July 7 according to the data bank planted inside Seto's head. He had been focusing too hard on Kaiba at the time to allow his mind to process and access information, but now the magic word of Mokuba had opened up more and more details. Mother died during his birth. Blood type O. Vice President of Kaiba Corporation. Capsule Monster Chess Champion. There was a locket around his neck in the photo – just like the one the Other was wearing today. Seto furrowed his brow but his mind could not tell him what was inside the lockets. Perhaps it meant nothing. Perhaps it meant everything.
His new revelations left Seto puzzled: why did they think he would hurt Mokuba? He seemed harmless in that picture, such a friendly, happy looking child, and while Seto felt no attachment to him, he assumed that someone as grave and cold as the Other would not speak lightly of their feelings, not say "he means everything to me" unless it was the absolute truth, and a child that inspired such feelings was in all likelihood very worthy of them. This gave Seto momentary comfort: perhaps if the child liked him, he would not have to fear being killed while he was at the Mansion. The world was so large and Seto had hardly seen any of it yet, or even fully known the contents of his own head; if by nothing else, he was persuaded by the ardent colors of autumn trees and the silhouettes of mountains in the distance that he did not wish to die just yet.
Another winding turn brought them just within view of the Mansion and the grounds, coaxing Seto's jaw to drop in awe. It seemed very fine and positively enormous, and the moment that fact registered, more followed from some unknown recess of his mind: the number of the rooms, members of the staff, facilities on the grounds and a house floor plan that did not incorporate the apartment that was spoken of – Seto guessed it would be up to him to update his data bank upon their arrival. It took him a while to realize that the Mansion and all its comforts catered to three or four people at most if he were to add Isono and himself, and the idea struck him as surreal. The rooms inside his head could have accommodated many times their number. He was forced to conclude that this was beyond his understanding.
At last they pulled into the driveway and Kaiba turned towards Seto again, lifting the sunglasses to put them on. Seto pulled back to the wall of his seat, eyes screwed shut and hands flinching as Kaiba slipped the sunglasses on. It all felt less imposing than the last time, or so he thought; while not very comfortable, he felt he could endure them for a while longer. Isono opened the door for him and offered a hand to help him out of the car.
"You are to wear sunglasses and call as little attention to yourself as possible while the two of us appear together in the same space," said Kaiba as he rose from his seat and shut the door on his side. "You may take them off once we are inside – the staff has been dismissed for the day so there is no need to hide from anyone at present."
Seto lowered his eyes, hands curling into idle fists. He was not to be seen by staff then, and if they intend to make him stay inside the apartment for the majority of his time, his solitary confinement would be complete indeed. Chances of Isono, obviously not a member of staff living on the grounds seemed to grow less and less – the only hope that Seto now dared entertain was that Mokuba might like him, and if he did, perhaps there would be company on lonely evenings, a not-brother that was still better than no family at all.
Long legs began to sweep the paved path towards the main entrance. Seto's heart was in his throat. Isono disabled the alarm, the combination flashing in Seto's mind.
"Let's go," said Kaiba, stepping inside, and Seto followed him half reluctant, half expectant into the vast spaces of grandeur, the intimidating arches of stairwells that seemed excessive, ridiculous, oppressive to someone who had never commanded anything larger than a one-person holding cell. Seto could hardly see a thing and attempted, of his own accord, to reach up and take his glasses off. His hands jerked away and Isono was there a moment later to relieve his darkened eyesight.
They seemed to be alone in the hallway except for a small peeking shadow by one of the archways that Seto noticed a moment too late, just as Isono had guided him to Kaiba's side and the two stood together, apparently identical except for their clothes.
"Mokuba."
The younger brother skulked forward from his hiding place, posture tense and eyes flashing. He took a step closer and no more, his features remaining distant and ill-defined until he spoke and the sharpness of his tone brought them into painful relief.
"He looks just like you – how will I be able to tell that he is not you?"
His voice was crackling with bitter anger that left Seto stunned, so much so that Kaiba could easily reach for and pull up his arm, pressing his hand backwards to keep it still.
"He has an identification mark on the inside of his wrist," spoke Kaiba, evidently satisfied with the chosen method of differentiation. "He will show you his wrist on command."
Mokuba tensed his shoulders, eyes narrowing, and hissed, "Freak."
"Mokuba.." began Kaiba, sounding little more than annoyed, but that word was the gateway and his little brother could be placated no more.
"He's a freak! He's got cameras in his eyes! How do I know that he's not recording me right now?! How do I know that he won't try and take your place someday?! I told you not to do it and now he's here. He could kill you in your sleep and nobody would know! Why does he have to live here?! I hate it! I HATE IT!" he spat and bolted off to get away from them, his steps echoing down the hall until the hard slam of a door put an end to them. Kaiba twisted his mouth, more in vexation than anything else, but then he made the mistake of looking at his clone to see his reaction.
Seto was still stunned; it was very evident that he went into shock the moment he was met with hostility, but what Kaiba did not expect – indeed was perfectly sure he could not expect from an artificial replica – was the slight trembling of his features, the moisture brimming in his eyes.
"Isono," came Kaiba's voice, hushed and urgent. "Take him upstairs and stay with him." He then took off after Mokuba without another glance, leaving the two of them behind.
The sensation was overwhelming. Seto had never cried before nor received any information on whether it was socially acceptable for a young male adult to do so in front of others, but even if he had, it would have mattered little. The one person his sense of security depended upon obviously hated him, and once the natural response of tears had come, his body surrendered to it the way infants cry, raw and whole and unrestrained, propelled by emotions too intense for their young spirits to quell. Isono took one look at him and his heart jolted; he quickly seized Seto by the arm.
"This way, Sir," he said, dragging him towards the staircase, and Seto followed with stumbling steps and quaking shoulders, unable to stifle the broken sounds that tore from his lips and swelled into fragmented wails. The climb was long and Seto's grief was immense; by the time they reached the apartment on the second floor, he was sobbing in earnest and showed no sign of calming down any time soon.
Isono opened the door and pushed him inside, guiding him over to the huge bed in the middle, the only furniture that the hired decorators advised him not to move. His plan was to make Seto comfortable and let his distress run its course, but when he meant to press down on the clone's shoulders and make him sit, Isono inevitably looked him in the eye and found he had not the heart or the will to do it. Seto's eyes were large, larger than Isono had ever seen Kaiba's, his face drenched in a stream of tears that he could not wipe, and so, hoping he was not overstepping his boundaries but caring little if he did, Isono drew Seto into an awkward embrace, pressing him carefully to his chest wanting no more than for him to just stop.
It was new and strange, being held so close and so deliberately. It made Seto tense, his natural instinct prompting him to draw back, but Isono's body was warm, his arms resting on Seto's back enveloping him like living shelter, and soon he found his own arms sliding upwards to clench the folds of Isono's suit in the back, wringing them as he sobbed and mumbled and gasped for air.
How long they had stood there, Isono did not know. It felt like an eternity, but fortunately for Seto, Isono would have waited forever if need be, still cursing himself that he was much too old to feel that same past urge of wanting to take his charge far away from here.
