BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG

Seto woke and looked at his bedside clock. Midnight. He groaned and turned over, trying to go back to sleep. That was when he noticed the bright yellow glow coming from the foot of his bed. He sat up. Kneeling at the foot of his bed, encased in a golden nimbus, was Mokuba. Seto's jaw dropped.

" Wha? Mokuba? What are you doing here? I sent you to Yugi's."

Mokuba grinned. " Don't be dumb, Seto. We got a lot to do." He got up from the bed and went to open the window.

" What do we have to do? Why are you glowing? I'm not going anywhere. Its cold up there."

" I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past, Big Brother. And you are going. I have some things to show you." The little spirit was struggling with the window. Seto got up and opened it.

" Thanks." He stepped up on to the sill and held out his hand to Seto. " Come on."

Seto sighed and took his hand, figuring he was dreaming. Mokuba pulled him up on the ledge and, without warning, jumped. Seto let out a high pitched scream. Then there was a bright flash and they were standing in the street in front of a lovely, well decorated house cover in snow.

Seto looked down at Mokuba, who was stifling giggles.

" What?" He demanded irritably. Mokuba grinned at him.

" You scream like a girl, Seto."

" I do not!" The tall CEO blushed crimson. Then looked around.

" Uh, Mokuba, Is this Christmas long past?"

" Nope. Your past."

" I was afraid of that." He squared his shoulders. " Alright, Lets get this over with."

Mokuba led him into the house. Inside was a family, a woman, a man, a small boy and a baby. Seto stared in amazement.

" Mokuba, Thats us. This is your first Christmas!"

" Yes. Watch." Seto watched as his younger self opened a gift. It was a tacky green sweater that was way to big for him. He remembered that sweater. His mother had made it herself. She was watching his younger self now, waiting for a reaction. Little Seto grinned and pulled it on over his blue pajamas. He leaned over and hugged his mom.

Seto grinned, watching. He still had that sweater, or parts of it at least. Mokuba slipped his hand into his big brothers.

" Come on. Time to go now." He started to lead him away. Seto protested, wanting to enjoy the happiness in the room. Mokuba shook his head.

" Time for another Christmas."

Seto followed, disappointed. Mokuba led him outside and there was another blinding flash. Now they were standing outside a large rundown building. There were children running around the yard, playing in the snow. Mokuba led Seto inside, where it was brightly decorated for the holiday. Sitting alone in the corner was a brown haired boy, grumpily cutting out snowflakes. He looked at one and crushed it in his hand. A small purple eyed boy watched.

" Seto . . . ."

" Go outside, Mokuba." The older boy said coldly. The smaller boy dejectedly walked away.

Seto watched this exchange, shocked.

" Mokuba, This is . . . ."

" Our first Christmas after our parents died." Mokuba confirmed.

" I want to go home." Seto told him. Mokuba shook his head.

"You mean there's more?" Seto asked.

" Yes." Mokuba said sadly. " Watch." Seto watched.

The younger Seto stared at the scrunched up snowflake in his hand and then looked up at the sparsely decorated tree. He frowned and stood. He walked over and took hold of the highest branch he could reach and pulled, sending the tree crashing to the floor. Then he raced around the room, tearing down as many decorations as he could.

Seto watched helplessly as his younger self tore around the room in a rage. Finally a pair of men came in and grabbed him, taking him away.

" Where are the taking him, uh, me, Mokuba?" he tried to run over to the window but Mokuba held him still.

" Thats all here, Seto. Time to go."

" I don't want to."

" Just one more Christmas, Big Brother. Then I'm done."

There was another blinding flash.

This time they were standing in the living room of Kaiba Mansion. Seto looked down at Mokuba, frowning. The Spirit pointed into the living room. There was no tree, or decorations or anything to indicate a holiday. Instead, a boy sat at a desk, practicing figures. An older man stood over him, checking his work. Suddenly the man smacked the boy roughly in the side of the head.

" Do it right!" He yelled.

" Yes, Father. I'm sorry, Father." The boy replied. Seto , standing beside Mokuba, went rigid. His expression matched that of his younger self. Pure hatred.

" This what Christmas has become for you." Mokuba's voice was sad. " A day that symbolized only hatred, and that is what you keep in your heart, making it cold."

Seto stared at his little brother. Mokuba took his hand again. " Come on. Times up." There was another blinding flash and Seto was back in his room, alone.