It was Kaiba's bimonthly appointment with his therapist, and things were going just as they always went: him sitting in his chair, arms crossed, as he stared at his therapist without saying a word. She sat there staring right back at him, not looking aggravated or annoyed at all, simply waiting to see if he chose to speak. This was his fifth therapist this year, actually, and his fourth appointment with her, which was a record for Seto. Usually they got frustrated by the third session and gave up, referring him to someone else. The whole thing was rather amusing for him.

"So, I heard about Yugi's challenge," she said out of the blue, causing Seto to start.

"Yeah, so?" he retorted disdainfully.

"I took the liberty of watching the videos you uploaded. I found it interesting when you talked about your compulsive need to defeat Yugi. Do you want to talk about it?" She spoke carefully, tactfully, and yet was able to make it sound as if she actually cared about his well-being.

"Not really," Seto replied tersely.

"Okay then, I will," she replied with the glib insolence of a younger sister, and a slight smile to indicate that she was actually enjoying this.

"No."

"No? Why not?"

Seto stared at her in silence, and she merely waited for his response. Ten minutes ticked by, and there were only five minutes left for their session.

"Well, I would recommend that you try and take a little time out of each day to relax a bit. Given the amount of responsibility that falls on your shoulders, you're constantly under high levels of stress, and you need to watch your blood pressure."

Seto didn't even nod, simply watched her as she got up and left his office. He immediately resumed working. Business as usual.

Relax. Seto pondered her advice as he finally gathered his things at the end of the day. Well, the end of his workday, which was usually no sooner than nine o'clock, but tonight had ended around eleven. Such was the life of the young CEO and workaholic.

How does one relax? Mokuba had fallen asleep in a chair outside his office, waiting for his big brother. Seto gently carried him out to the waiting limo, letting him lay on his lap as they drove home. Not that they had much of an emotional attachment to their residence, but it was the place they lived, and as such was a refuge.

I don't have time to relax. Once inside, he armed their state-of-the-art home security system. He'd learned over time that he simply couldn't take any risks when it came to Mokuba's safety. He placed his briefcase on the kitchen table before taking Mokuba to his room and rousing his brother enough to get him into his pajamas and tucked into bed. He then went to the kitchen and began to brew himself a cup of coffee. He wasn't in the mood to sleep tonight.

If I don't have time to sleep, how am I supposed to have time to relax? Well, perhaps he could manage to sleep every night and still maintain the current progress and success of KaibaCorp, but Seto suffered from severe insomnia and couldn't ever seem to sleep well naturally. If he fell asleep at all, he would wake up every couple of hours. Or have nightmares. He shuddered at the mere thought of them, and immediately hated himself for doing so.

Sleep is for the weak. He poured himself a hot mug of coffee before sitting down at the table and opening his laptop to resume working. Not even he could live without ever sleeping, so every few days he would take a strong sedative to knock him out for several hours at night, and that constituted sleeping. The sedatives were also strong enough to keep him from having any dreams at all. Then the cycle would start over again: two or three days without sleep, his nights spent working, then a dose of sedatives that let him recharge a bit before resuming work.

I am not weak. Was this wise on his part? Well, it worked well enough for him, though he was almost certain that a doctor would tell him that he was being foolish. Seto, young, healthy, and arrogant as he was, wouldn't ever believe that he could be hurt by this or anything. He'd jumped out a window, climbed up the face of a cliff with a briefcase in his hand, stopped the hammer of a gun with a trading card, and had his soul trapped in the virtual world twice. He was indestructible, as far as he was concerned. Nothing and nobody could break him. Not anymore.