Disclaimer:I could never even own Broadway in Monopoly, do you really think I could own Yu-Gi-Oh?

TW: Allusions to child abuse

"I took what I hated and made it a part of me."

~Figure .09, Linkin Park

-Chapter 4-

The Closest You Can Get to Flying

Surrounded by the pungent odor of cigar smoke, Seto pressed his back against the closet wall before sliding to the floor and hugging his knees. He knew that Gozaburo was out there. Knew his stepfather could come for him at any time to punish him.

"Seto!" Gozaburo's voice rang out in the blackness, and Seto protectively forced himself into the corner. Gozaburo laughed mirthlessly. "Are you scared?"

Seto shook his head even though he was terrified. Suddenly the man's distorted face loomed out of the darkness, his bushy mustache curling downwards around a deep scowl. Seto hugged himself more tightly. It wasn't his stepfather's anger that frightened him, though. Anger he could have endured. It was the expression in Gozaburo's eyes he was afraid of. There was no anger in those dark, deep-set eyes, but something else.

Gozaburo brandished a leather riding crop at him and Seto flinched.

"You know why you're here, don't you?"

"Because I didn't get a perfect score," Seto whispered, his eyes never leaving the instrument in his step-father's hand.

"Ding, ding, ding," Gozaburo said sarcastically. "To most people, ninety-eight percent would be good enough, but you aren't 'most people,' are you?"

"No, sir."

"What are you?"

"A Kaiba."

"Right again. A Kaiba always goes above and beyond. You should have gotten a hundred and ten percent on that test which means you failed." He smacked the crop against his palm and Seto, ashamed even through his fear, felt tears well in his eyes before dribbling down his cheeks. He knew he had to say something to defend himself, something that would protect him. He normally prided himself on being quick-witted and mature, and he yearned for Gozaburo to treat him as such because he surely wouldn't punish him if he considered him an equal rather than a child. But he was fully aware of how small he was. How helpless.

"I'll do better next time, I promise! I'll study harder!" he sobbed, humiliated by how easily his stepfather was able to remind him that despite his intelligence, he wasn't an equal. He was a child. He forced himself out of his protective ball and onto his knees."I'll do anything!" He reached out and gripped onto his stepfather's pant leg and looked imploringly up into his face. "Just please...please don't…"

"Stop crying!" Gozaburo's voice was full of scorn even as a smile twitched on his lips. He lifted his leg enough to kick Seto in the chest so that he sprawled backwards and hit his head against the wall. "Crying is for girls and faggots. Is that what you are?"

"N-no, sir," Seto stammered as he tried to catch his breath.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." Gozaburo forced Seto's face up with the end of the riding crop. "Can't you even remember the most basic things you've been taught since you've been here? Words are nothing."

"Only actions speak the truth," Seto recited automatically, his eyes on the patch of light on the floor at his stepfather's feet. "Actions separate the weak from the powerful. A truly powerful person doesn't need the approval of others-he only counts on himself."

"Because?" Gozaburo prompted.

Seto forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat and raise his gaze to meet his stepfather's."Because to be powerful is to make the world your enemy."

"Do you hate me, Seto?" Gozaburo asked conversationally, and Seto realized it was no longer the riding crop under his chin, but his stepfather's lightly calloused hand cupping his face.

"Yes," Seto answered defiantly even as he felt himself shaking.

"Hatred breeds motivation. Motivation breeds progress. Progress breeds success. Success breeds power. And power is everything." Gozaburo ran his thumb along Seto's cheekbone. "You don't hate me now, but I'm going to make you hate me, Seto."

Seto's eyes snapped open and he sat up abruptly, his heart pounding and perspiration trickling down his brow. He instinctively hugged himself in the moment it took him to fully comprehend that he was in bed, not in his step-father's closet. Just another stupid nightmare. His shaking hands rested against the raised bumps on his arms and he realized without much surprise that he'd managed to kick all the blankets onto the floor. Glancing at the display on his cell phone he saw that his alarm was only minutes from going off anyway. Shivering, he turned off the alarm and got out of bed, resolving to take a quick shower to warm up. I'll have to talk to George about turning the heat up...

He sighed in displeasure after flicking on the light and looking in the bathroom mirror. The punch Alistair had landed on his nose had, as he'd suspected, caused some discoloration and swelling, and it was so tender he could barely touch it. He couldn't go to work looking like he'd come from a street fight. Couldn't go anywhere like that really. He cursed Alistair again before trying to figure out what to do. Finally, he walked back into the bedroom, scooped his cell phone off his bedside table, and called Roland.

"Yes, Mr. Kaiba?" Roland answered thickly, and Seto realized he'd woken him up.

"This is going to sound strange," Seto began, "but can you go get me some sort of…make-up? I…" He paused, trying to think up a dignified justification for the state of his face. "I was testing the beta for the new VR game with Mokuba yesterday and he accidentally hit me in the face. I need something to cover the bruise."

"Yes, of course. Is there a particular brand I should look for?"

"How should I know?" Seto snapped. "I've never worn make-up before in my life. You have a daughter, you must know something! Go get it and meet me in back of KC headquarters at eight-fifteen." Without waiting for a reply he hung up, tossed the phone on his bed and stalked back to the bathroom, glancing over the list hanging on the wall even though he knew what it said by heart before preparing to take a shower.

Once he was finished in the bathroom, he pulled on his typical uniform: black turtleneck, black pants, black belt with the KC logo emblazoned on the buckle, silver arm bracers, white Kaiba Corp trench coat, and black combat boots. He ran a comb through his hair, sprayed some cologne, and called it a day. He got to the dining room at precisely seven O'clock.

Trudy had laid the newspaper and a cup of black coffee out for him, and while he waited for her to come back with breakfast he opened the paper to the economics section. He scowled when he saw an article titled: The End of an Era? KC stock continues to plummet. What did they know? Did anyone ever bother to look into why exactly stock was at an all time low? No, of course not. As usual, the entire state of affairs was blamed on him. The author even had the audacity to suggest that 'perhaps leaving such a large company in the hands of a teenager' had 'finally proven to be too much pressure' and that the other executives might do better to seek a more 'seasoned' leader to 'steer Kaiba Corp back to glory.' Without reading further, Seto angrily scrunched the newspaper up and threw it across the room. It hit the wall next to the door and slid to the ground in a pathetic heap.

He reached for the coffee and burned the roof of his mouth after carelessly taking a huge gulp. He choked but managed to avoid spraying coffee everywhere by spitting it back into the cup. As he was wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand he heard someone enter the room. "This is boiling hot! I could have scalded myself on this!" Looking up from the coffee mug, expecting to see Trudy cowering by the door holding a tray of food, Seto was taken aback to discover that it was Alistair, dressed in the same stupid faded tank-top he'd worn the day before and looking startled by Seto's outburst."What are you doing here?" Seto asked, not bothering to soften the irritation in his voice. "I told you that breakfast was at nine. Can't you read a clock?"

"The clock in my room doesn't work," Alistair answered casually. "Besides, I was hungry and Mokuba told me you have breakfast at seven."

"That doesn't mean you can just invite yourself to eat with me." Seto took some satisfaction at seeing how Alistair was favoring the arm he'd scraped against the coffee table.

"I'll keep that in mind next time," Alistair replied as cordially as he could, pulling out a chair on the far end of the oval table. "Your nose looks great by the way." Seto self-consciously put his hand over his nose just as Trudy came bustling in carrying a tray laden with toast, scrambled eggs, and sausage.

"Where's my apple?" Seto demanded after she'd set the tray on the table and put the plate in front of him.

"You'll get your apple just as soon as you finish this. When I give you that first you hardly touch anything else." Seto rolled his eyes, but took the knife and fork off the tray and began to dig into the eggs. "And what have you done to your nose?" she inquired.

Seto shooed her away."It's nothing." She pursed her lips and tutted, but he ignored her. Shaking her head, she picked the tray back up, preparing to return it to the kitchen.

"Oh!" she exclaimed when she caught sight of Alistair. She'd been employed at the Kaiba estate for just under twenty years and never before known Seto to eat breakfast with anyone, let alone an exotic foreigner wearing a shirt that just barely covered their ribs. "I'm sorry," she said once she'd recovered from her surprise. "I didn't see you there Mr.…uh…"

"Alistair," Alistair introduced himself, getting to his feet and holding out his hand. She took it uncertainly.

"Ah, yes, of course. Seto: you didn't tell me that Mr. Alistair would be joining you for breakfast," she scolded him.

He finished chewing before replying. "'Mr. Alistair' didn't make that very clear to me either."

She waved the tray at him in exasperation."What would you like for breakfast?" she asked Alistair politely." And go ahead and sit back down, no need to stay standing on my account."

"Oh." Alistair went back to his seat. "I uh…I guess I'll have the same as Kaiba."

"Not a problem, it should be ready in about twenty minutes." She turned to leave.

"Do you want some help?" he asked, uncomfortable with the prospect of making her go to the trouble of cooking for him.

"That's very kind, but you're our guest. Your only job is to enjoy yourself. I've been doing this for longer than you've been alive; I can handle it, don't you worry." Before he could say another word she slipped out the door and was gone.

"You realize that's her job, right? She's not doing me a favor by cooking my food; it's what I pay her for."

"Oh right, I forgot: you don't have to be nice to people as long as you pay them. You'll have to excuse me, I'm fresh off the boat and I'm still not used to how you guys do things here at the castle."

Much as Seto was impressed by Alistair's ability to hold his own, he wasn't in the mood for it and wished the man would go away and let him enjoy his breakfast in peace.

"Are you just here to annoy me, or do you have something to say?"

Alistair didn't like Kaiba's antagonistic tone; it didn't exactly make him want to apologize. Before he could formulate a response, Trudy bounded back into the room with much more agility than Alistair would have expected from a woman easily in her late fifties.

"Where are my manners? I completely forgot to ask what you wanted to drink." She patted her silver bun to make sure it was still in place.

"Uh…"

"He'll have orange juice," Seto answered for him before cautiously taking a sip of the coffee which had finally cooled down enough drink. Trudy looked back and forth between the two young men, unsure of what to do.

"That's fine," Alistair assured her, glaring at Kaiba.

Not wanting to stay in a room so full of tension, Trudy nodded and hurried off again.

"You were taking too long. Now tell me what you want." Seto violently bit into a piece of toast.

"I was going to apologize for what I said last night, but now I don't think I will."

"I'm heartbroken. Was that all?"

Alistair found himself flustered by Kaiba's blasé tone."You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he managed finally.

"I'm so glad you noticed," Seto replied, running a hand through his hair and smirking.

Alistair flared his nostrils as heat crept up his face."You've got some nerve acting all cavalier after losing it last night."

"Ooh, big word. Did you look that up just to use on me?" Taking out his frustration by taunting people was one of Seto's guilty pleasures.

"Why do you have to be such a dick, Kaiba?" Alistair snarled.

"That sounds more like something that would come out of your mouth." Alistair was beginning to act like Wheeler which was just boring. Seto was starting to wish he hadn't thrown the newspaper so he could use it as an additional physical barrier between them; the table clearly wasn't enough.

"Why are you letting me stay here if I'm so stupid?"

"Believe me, if I thought you were stupid you wouldn't be here. Actually, let me rephrase that just so we're clear: you are stupid, but you're the kind of stupid that comes with a set of skills that could cause trouble for me. So in a cruel twist of irony, the only way I can eliminate you as a problem is by keeping you here."

Alistair studied Kaiba's expression. His tone had been matter-of-fact-almost bored, but Alistair didn't buy it, certain that there was more to it than that. Notoriously mistrusting Kaiba would have killed him before he'd let Alistair live in his house which meant he had to have an agenda. And Alistair intended to figure out what it was.

Seto, uncomfortably aware that he was being dissected, stood abruptly, causing his plate to bump against his coffee mug with a delicate clink, and silently strode from the room. Alistair knew better than to follow him and instead sat back in his chair, still working furiously to figure out Kaiba's angle.

A few minutes later, Trudy returned with a second tray of food and an apple. She tsked when she saw that Seto had left his guest alone.

"Thank you," Alistair said, taking the heavily laden tray from her. On it, she'd managed to squeeze a plate of scrambled eggs, a generous helping of hash browns, bacon, sausage, and several thick slices of toast as well as a tall glass of orange juice.

Trudy noticed him apprehensively staring at it. "Excuse me for saying so, but I thought you looked like you could use a square meal or two."

"I can't eat all of this." He was used to surviving on the bare minimum. Even while working for Dartz where food was plentiful he'd oftentimes skipped meals. "Could we maybe share? I don't want to waste it..."

"I couldn't possibly, it wouldn't be…well, proper." She hadn't ever lived there herself, but Trudy had taken after her devoutly British mother when it came to following protocol.

"Please. Besides, I'd enjoy the company."

Despite the young man's wild and distinctly foreign appearance, the kindness in his smile won her over and Trudy found herself pulling up a chair next to him.

She was appalled by his table manners, but nonetheless found Alistair to be very personable, causing her to silently chastise herself for her initial qualms. He spoke very little about his own background for which she could hardly blame him, mentioning only that he'd lost his family to the war still ravaging his homeland. By the time the food and orange juice were gone, she'd decided to take the poor boy under her wing and turn him into a proper gentleman.

"I'm very glad that Seto brought you here, Mr. Alistair, and I'm so sorry that you've had it so rough, truly, but it's all behind you now."

"Not if Kaiba can help it," Alistair said sullenly.

She waved the sentence away."I've been telling him for years to work on his presentation; it always gives people the wrong impression. Seto is touchy, certainly, and a bit rough around the edges, but his heart's in the right place. Always has been. I've told him a million times to crack a smile every now and again, but he never listens."

"I'd say he smiles plenty-it's just not particularly pleasant," Alistair couldn't help but respond, recalling Kaiba's annoying smirk.

Trudy regarded Alistair with interest. She was desperately curious to know how Alistair and Seto, whose lives were worlds apart, had come to cross paths. The animosity that existed between the two had been practically palpable, but where it came from she had no idea. Seto's impartial explanation had been simply that Alistair was a refugee who would be a temporary live-in guest at the estate.

"How is it that you and Seto know each other?" she asked finally, trying to sound conversational.

The question took Alistair completely off-guard. It hadn't crossed his mind that the long-time housekeeper would know nothing of DOMA and his hatred of the Kaiba family. But then, why would she? It wasn't something he imagined she and Seto chatted about over tea.

"We...I...Well." He struggled to quickly devise a plausible and less dramatic explanation than 'I was in a cult for seven years and it was my job to steal his soul in order to help resurrect the Great Leviathan of Atlantis.' "We met in California," he answered honestly. "We argued a bit about politics, which apparently was memorable enough for him to offer me a place to stay now that I'm in-between jobs. I was studying to be a pilot before," he added, gesturing vaguely and hoping she'd fill in the gaps for herself.

Trudy's brow creased in sympathy as she put the pieces together, After the murder of his family, he must have managed to escape across the border and flee to the United States. There he'd probably found some menial job that had somehow brought him into contact with Seto who she could imagine only too well getting in a tangle with just about anybody. What she still didn't understand was how that translated into free room and board.

"It was Mokuba's idea," Alistair clarified, answering her unasked question.

"Ah." Now the whole thing made perfect sense. Like opposite ends of a magnet, whatever Seto repelled, Mokuba seemed to attract, so it followed that anyone Seto didn't get along with, Mokuba would like immensely. And like the angel on Seto's shoulder, he must have convinced his brother to be altruistic. Extraordinarily altruistic. It bolstered her fragile optimism that Seto would be alright.

Alistair breathed a mental sigh of relief that the housekeeper seemed satisfied with his sketch of an explanation.

"I'd appreciate it if you don't mention to Seto that we've talked about all this; it's none of my business after all."

"Of course. I won't say a thing." Alistair raised a hand to place over his heart and winced as the movement stretched the scrape on his arm.

"Do you want me to get something for that?" Trudy asked concernedly, knowing better than to question him about what happened.

"Oh, yes, thank you, that would be nice. Just some disinfectant maybe."

"Let me just take care of these dishes and I'll be back in a jiffy." She bustled around the table, collecting the dirty dishes.

"Here, let me help you." He stood and picked the pitcher of orange juice off the table, intending to carry that and Kaiba's coffee pot.

"Put that down," she ordered him firmly. "I can manage. Might I suggest that you freshen up in the bathroom just around the corner there? And I'll come back with some disinfectant and a bandage or two."

"Are you sure?"

"You're very kind. It's really alright. Go on, go wash your face; you've got a bit of yolk on your nose. As I said: bathroom's right around the corner there."

He left the dining room, feeling horribly bratty for leaving the older woman to clean up after him, but followed her direction to the little bathroom. It was black and white themed like much of the rest of the house. Alistair looked at his reflection in the mirror. The skin around the scrape had darkened into a nasty bruise and he grimaced after gently prodding it, but knew he was lucky he'd sustained no worse injuries.

He cupped his hands after turning the handle on the sink and splashed the cold water on his face, careful to get the egg off, but there was nothing he could do about the bruise on his arm. Oh well. It'll fade.

Seto's mood had reached an all-time low by the time he met up with Roland at KC headquarters. He'd spent the entire drive trying to cool off without much success. Thinking back on what Alistair had said kept making him angry all over again. How dare he? How dare he? Who the hell did he think he was psychoanalyzing anyone when he couldn't even get through the night without crying out in his sleep?

To cap it all off, he got caught in traffic because some idiots had gotten into an accident. An accident! And it wasn't even eight O'clock yet!

When he finally arrived, he stormed out of the car and up to Roland, who was waiting for him, holding a paper drugstore bag.

"Good morn-" Roland started, but Seto cut him off.

"What do you have for me?"

"Well," Roland said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a glass bottle of some sort of flesh colored liquid. "The woman at the drugstore recommended it. I wasn't sure what would match your skin the best so I just got the lightest color."

Seto took the bottle from him."How do you put it on?" he asked, examining it.

Roland pointed to the lid. "If you take the plastic lid off, there's a little pump. You press it and get some of the stuff on your palm and rub it on your face like suntan lotion."

Seto yanked the plastic covering off and pressed down on the pump causing a meager spritz of the 'foundation' to squirt into his hand. Whoever designed this should be shot, he thought, having to pump the stupid thing five more times before he had a more reasonable amount. He handed the bottle back to Roland and proceeded to smear the creamy mixture on his face and rub it in.

"How does it look?"

Roland shuffled nervously on the spot.

"Maybe I should have gotten it a shade darker…And maybe you weren't supposed to rub it in like that..."

"You told me to put it on like sunscreen! Ugh. Do you have a mirror?" Without waiting for the manservant to answer, he returned to the car, which Alfred had left idling, and peered into the rearview mirror. He started in horror. The foundation was at least two shades lighter than his skin and it had colored his lips and patches of his eyebrows, leaving him looking ghoulish.

"What the hell, Roland?"

"I had no idea it would do that!"

"How do I get it off?" Seto demanded, fervently rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth in an attempt to remove some of the color.

"Water?" Roland suggested tentatively.

Seto narrowed his eyes."Do you have any water? Do you see water anywhere around here? No. So give me some advice I can actually use."

"Well, it came with this sponge thing." The older man rummaged around in the bag and produced a white foam pad. "The woman said you use it to blend the color."

Seto snatched it from him and began buffing his lips with it. "Is that better?"

"Yes, much. Now you might want to fix your eyebrows too..."

"Of course!" Seto scrubbed his brow until the sponge started to fray, then sighed and tossed the bottle of 'cover-up foundation' and the remnants of the sponge back in the bag."I guess that's the best I can expect." He waved Alfred away. "Come on, let's go. I trust you brought your report with you?" Roland nodded. "Good." With his manservant in tow, he swept towards the back entry to Kaiba Corp, the heavy fabric of his coat whacking painfully against Roland's ankles as he passed by.

In the time between breakfast and when Mokuba finally woke up, Alistair worked out on the floor of his room, convinced that if he had been in better shape he might have been able to give Kaiba what for. He knew the Kaiba's had a private gym, but opted out of it.

He spent the next hour wandering around the house, finally able to see the blueprints he'd studied come to life.

Alistair knew that the Kaiba's were old money and that the estate had belonged to them for over a century. A century of decadence and snobbery I bet. It was just as well that the name would die with the present day Kaiba brothers unless one of them had children, if they even counted since they weren't related to the family by blood in which case the name was dead already. Alistair found the rich's obsession with blood and lineage absurd, but not more so than the lengths they went to maintain it. He thought back to the entry in Gozaburo's journal and how his main concern had been having a son to carry on the family name. It was madness.

He circled back around to the dining room to find Mokuba working on a large plate of pancakes that had been smothered in syrup.

"Morning Ali—woah; what happened to you?" Mokuba openly goggled at the large bandage and surrounding bruise on his arm. Alistair decided to tell him; after all, it would make Kaiba look bad.

"Your brother and I got into a fight last night."

"A fight?" Mokuba repeated unnecessarily. "Why?" He knew his brother was more than capable of taking care of himself, but he'd never seen him use the skill before.

"We were arguing and he ran out of things to say."

"Are you ok?"

"It looks a lot worse than it actually is." Mostly true. His arm hurt terribly along the bruise when he moved it, and his back twinged every time he sat down or shifted position, but he'd suffered worse injuries before. "Look, don't worry about it. What I wanted to ask you was: do you want to go riding with me today?" He was sick of being cooped up in the house and longed for the freedom of the open road.

"On your motorcycle?"

"Yeah. I thought we could drive up to the mountains. Oh, but you have to study, don't you?" He'd forgotten.

Mokuba shook his head. "No, I get weekends off."

"It's the weekend?"

"It's Saturday."

Alistair shrugged. He had no idea what the date was most of the time since it hardly mattered. "So do you want to go?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure Seto would like that. Besides, we're supposed to go to the mall to get some more clothes for you today. That's the plan anyway. Alfred was going to pick us up at twelve."

"I don't need any more clothes," Alistair insisted. "I can just wash these in the sink when they get dirty." He indicated his tank-top and faded blue jeans.

"You don't have to, you know; Trudy does the laundry. But you can't just walk around naked while they're being washed so you need some more clothes. Besides," Mokuba gave him a sympathetic smile, "don't you want a shirt that actually fits?"

Alistair self-consciously crossed his arms in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his stomach. It was true that it was the same shirt he'd had since he was fifteen and so threadbare it was translucent, but he hadn't thought it was important enough to bother buying a new one since the only people he saw on a regular basis were Valon, Raphael, and Dartz-and he'd hardly cared what they thought of his sense of fashion...or lack thereof. "I guess you have a point. But I don't have much money left…"

"Don't worry about it." Mokuba replied unconcernedly, going back to eating his breakfast at an alarming rate. "We're covering your expenses while you're here."

"Oh," Alistair said simply, not in any position to argue.

As Mokuba had said, at precisely twelve O'clock, Alistair heard the sound of tires on the driveway and he and Mokuba left the house.

They both greeted Alfred and one of Seto's two bodyguards, Saito, who explained that he would be accompanying them.

Saito had worked for the Kaibas ever since Seto's takeover of the company seven years before, and while he harbored no strong feelings of affection for either of the brothers, he couldn't help but wonder what had possessed Seto, whom he respected, to do something as reckless as take in someone who'd very recently tried to do him in. But it wasn't his place to question his boss, only to follow orders, so despite his personal misgivings, he kept silent as Alistair climbed into the car beside his charge.

Sitting in the car facing Saito, who's stony countenance alone was enough to cow him, Alistair did his best not to look into the bodyguard's face. The absolute intimidation radiating from snakeline brown eyes was what Alistair assumed Kaiba was aiming for with his own icy glare, but he still had a long way to go. Next to Saito, Kaiba would surely look like a petulant child.

He was extremely grateful when Mokuba, who seemed inexplicably unaffected by Saito's presence in the limo, requested that Alfred turn the radio on.

"Seto hates having music on in the car, but I think it's way more fun," Mokuba yelled over the pounding beat of a clubby pop song in which the singer was describing how life was too short not to 'feel it all.' "Whenever I go somewhere without him I have Alfred turn it up really loud."

Three songs later, Alistair found himself agreeing with Kaiba's desire not to have music on in the car, but Mokuba seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He sang along practically line for line with every song and stomped his feet in time with the beat, occasionally looking in Alistair's direction as though to invite him to join in the fun.

Even after obsessing over the family for years, the answer to the riddle of how two brothers could have grown up to be so different eluded Alistair completely. Shouldn't Mokuba have become as embittered and temperamental as Kaiba?

Four floors of plexiglass and steel shimmering in the afternoon sunlight made up the Domino City Megamall whose sign boasted over five hundred stores, a movie theater, aquarium, and dueling arena. The sheer scale of the establishment was enough to make Alistair uneasy, but it was the volume of people that put him truly on-edge. From the moment Alfred dropped them off at the mall's main entrance, they were surrounded by people. Saito's presence at their back did nothing to alleviate his growing sense of claustrophobia. Completely out of his element, Alistair stuck close to Mokuba.

"There are a few stores we can start with," Mokuba explained, casually tying his long black hair back into a ponytail when he noticed two teenage girls surreptitiously taking pictures from behind a marble column.

"Sure," Alistair agreed quickly, hoping a shop would offer some respite from the hordes of people streaming past them.

Alistair knew that Saito was there as a safeguard for Mokuba, but he couldn't help but wonder if he didn't draw more attention to them than was necessary. His crisp black suit, slicked back hair, and mistrustful expression stood in stark contrast to the bright, happy shoppers around them, many of whom looked back at them as they passed.

"This is where Seto gets most of his casual clothes from," Mokuba explained, stopping suddenly in front of a clothing store called 'DARE.' Alistair wasn't sure how he felt about wearing the same brand as Kaiba, but his resolute faltered when he saw that the clothes were actually appealing. Edgy t-shirts, pants, and boots seemed to be the shop's specialty.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alistair noticed Saito move to stand next to the entrance as they entered the shop.

"Good afternoon," a stylish employee with spiky silver-blonde hair greeted them, smiling broadly and flashing overly-bleached teeth. "My name's Klai. Are you looking for anything in particular?" He eyed Alistair with snobby derision, clearly certain he couldn't even afford to be in the store.

"Do you have anything new in?" Mokuba asked. Klai's gaze shifted downwards and he seemed to recognize the younger Kaiba brother.

"We just got our fall collection in," Klai explained, the disdain gone from his face. "Lots of bold colors, a little bit of leather. Spikes are very in this season as well. Is Mr. Kaiba looking to expand his wardrobe? Because we have a line of boots he might like."

Mokuba stuck his lip out thoughtfully. "I'll let him know, but I'm actually here to pick out some things for my friend."

"Of course, of course. Do you have any idea what you might be interested in?" Alistair didn't even know what half the items in the store were called, but refused to let the snooty salesman know that.

"I'm just going to look first," he replied cooly, imitating Kaiba's usual dismissive tone. "If I require your services I'll come get you." Klai's nostrils flared indignantly before he turned on his heel and slunk off to assist one of the other customers.

Mokuba giggled."I don't think he was expecting that."

"Yeah, well, he had no right to look down his nose at me like that."

After walking around the store twice, Alistair found several items he liked: two shirts, one long-sleeved with a black front panel and grey back panel, one short sleeved and white, emblazoned with a stylized Summoned Skull, three solid black muscle shirts, and two pairs of dark jeans.

As the cashier rang the clothes up, Alistair stared in shock at the amount of money each item cost. He looked over at Mokuba to see if he was seeing the same numbers, but the boy wasn't paying attention.

Mokuba, unlike his brother, had very few memories of life before they'd been adopted and knew nothing of not living in luxury. As a result, money meant very little to him; he simply went shopping, handed the cashier a card, signed a receipt, and went on his way. Often he didn't even know how much the things he bought cost since it didn't matter. To him, the amount of money he'd spent on clothes for Alistair was hardly a big deal.

"You need shoes too, don't you?"

"What? No, there's nothing wrong with my boots." Alistair glanced down at his maroon and black shoes. They were less than a year old and still in good shape.

Mokuba made a face. "Are you sure?" Alistair nodded. "Ok, what about socks?"

"I've never needed socks."

Mokuba's lips twitched like he was going to laugh, but he quickly realized Alistair was serious and managed to hide the ghost of a smile.

"Ok, we're definitely getting you new shoes then, and socks. Come on, I know a great store, then we can take a break and get something to eat."

Confused by Mokuba's insistence, Alistair followed him to a huge store selling shoes of every size and description, trying to ignore the creeping feeling that accompanied being followed. How was Mokuba so easily able to ignore his bodyguard?

"What size are you?" Mokuba asked after shaking off the salesman who tried to attach herself to them.

"No idea."

"Show me the bottom of your shoe." Mystified, Alistair lifted his foot up so that Mokuba could see the underside of his boot. "It has the number on the bottom," he explained.

After fifteen minutes of looking and trying on, Alistair selected a pair of calf-high, black leather boots, and Mokuba grabbed a couple of pairs of socks on the way to the cash register.

"That was fun," Mokuba declared once they'd left the store, Alistair balancing the bag containing his new shoes on his arm with the other three bags they'd gotten from the first shop. "Let's get lunch. What do you want? I think I'll get a hamburger and fries." Secretly he was hoping that Hillary would be there.

Alistair shrugged."That sounds fine." He was actually sick of hamburgers and French fries since that was what he, Valon, and Raphael had always defaulted to while on the road, but Mokuba seemed gung-ho enough about it that he didn't feel like disagreeing. And anyway, Mokuba was paying.

They headed towards the crowded and noisy food court. When Mokuba saw that Hillary was working, he directed Alistair towards an empty table smashed between a large family and a concrete pillar, took his order, ran a hand through his bangs, and straightened his black and white striped shirt before getting in line, Saito following several paces behind.

Even though he knew it was only a temporary relief, with Saito gone, Alistair was grateful that he could breathe again and rested his back firmly against the pillar. How mundane it was to be sitting in the Domino City Mall, contributing to the capitalist machine and eating junk food when only a week before he'd been staring down Seto Kaiba on the roof of a crashing plane, embroiled in a life or death battle that would decide the fate of the world. And it was inconceivably bizarre to be at the Domino City Mall with Seto Kaiba's brother who was casually buying him expensive clothes to go with the domestic life he'd suddenly been dropped into. He knew it was absurd to find his current situation more incomprehensible than working for an Atlantean ghost, and that it spoke to how upside down his life had always been, but nonetheless he found himself missing his small room in Dartz's castle and even Rafael and Valon. He'd largely disliked Rafael's condescension and Valon's cockiness, and Dartz had always been distant, but they were at least familiar. He wondered again what had happened to them and pondered for a moment if he ought to look for them, but quickly discarded the notion. Why bother? The only thing that had tied them together had been their mission.

In retrospect, Alistair supposed it should have been obvious that Dartz had been playing them, but he'd wanted so desperately to have someone to guide him, someone to protect him, someone to believe in. Someone who would make the loss of his family hurt just a little bit less. Dartz may have been a liar, but at least he had given him that. Without him, Alistair felt like he was drowning in a vast ocean of limitless possibilities with no ship in sight. For the time being, his only lifeline seemed to be Kaiba. The thought was hysterically depressing and he quickly cast around for some kind of distraction.

Mokuba had made it to the front of the line and appeared to be flirting with the pretty, young cashier. She was clearly a few years too old for him, which Alistair would have assumed would have made his advances more pathetic than charming, but then the girl tilted her head forward and laughed in the same artificial way that Alistair had seen girls laugh at Valon's far from clever punchlines. It was a dance he'd seen play out more times than he would have preferred to bear witness to, but despite his familiarity, Alistair still found such rituals of flirtation and eventual conquest perplexing. He'd never understood the appeal of 'hooking up,' and dating had always been out of the question, though somehow Valon had managed to fit in a little of both over the years. Not to say Alistair had spent seven years with no desire for companionship. There had been many times he'd longed for someone to hold him, but with no idea who that 'someone' might be, the longing had only ever been frustrating.

To keep such inconvenient feelings of loneliness at bay, he'd thrown himself into his mission which had resulted in what his colleagues had considered an increasingly unsettling obsession with Kaiba. Every scrap of free time he'd had, had been spent spying on Kaiba. Watching Kaiba in his office, listening in on his phone calls, studying his duels all but frame by frame.

He'd bored his two companions practically to tears on more than one occasion with his rants about how much he hated Seto Kaiba. He'd only backed off of the subject after Valon took to calling him 'Kaibasexual.'

Mokuba returned with a tray of hamburgers, several containers of fries, and two large sodas, Saito trailing behind him, his expression as impassive as ever.

"Dig in!" Mokuba announced, already unwrapping a burger.

"What did you say to that girl?" Alistair asked, mildly curious.

"Who, Hillary?" Mokuba asked casually. "Nothing." A flush had crept up his face and Alistair couldn't help but wonder if, were he still alive, Mikey would be interested in girls too. "She's cute, isn't she?"

"Oh, I don't know." Alistair looked over at the girl who was now taking the order of a group of teenagers, one of whom she seemed to know. "I guess."

"What do you mean you 'guess'? She's the prettiest girl I've ever met," Mokuba gushed around a bite of hamburger. "I'm thinking about asking her to the corporate ball this year."

"Don't you think she's kind of old for you?" Alistair didn't mean to burst Mokuba's bubble, but he hoped that by snapping the teenager to his senses he'd avoid a potentially embarrassing situation.

Mokuba looked injured. "She's sixteen, that's only two years older than me. Besides, I hang out with adults all the time; she won't even be able to tell."

Alistair threw his hands up in surrender. "Hey, it's your thing, you're probably right. I'm certainly no expert."

"Have you ever had a girlfriend before?"

"No," he admitted easily, unwrapping a hamburger and taking a bite. It actually wasn't bad. "I never wanted one."

Mokuba goggled at him. "How can you have never wanted a girlfriend before?"

Alistair decided that 'because I was too busy obsessing over how to defeat your brother in a card game to think about girls' wasn't a very good answer. "I was…focusing on other things."

"Oh…right. I'm sorry," Mokuba apologized, much chagrined. How could he have forgotten Alistair's past so easily? It took Alistair a moment to realize that Mokuba thought he'd meant working for Dartz and losing his family.

"Yeah, well…"

"But hey, now you have time, and you never know, maybe there will be a cute girl at the aviation academy!"

Over Mokuba's shoulder, Alistair thought he caught Saito roll his eyes.

"Yeah, maybe…"

The two finished their meal, Alistair having eaten one burger and half a carton of fries and Mokuba packing away the rest, plus two hamburgers, and Mokuba called Alfred to have him come pick them up.

"Are you sure you don't want to go riding?" Alistair pressed Mokuba while they waited on a bench outside the mall.

"I would, but like I said: I don't think Seto would like that. You can go though; I'll have George, our groundskeeper, pull it out for you and make sure it's got a full tank of gas and all that."

"Come on, what Kaiba doesn't know won't hurt him. It'll be really fun."

Mokuba hesitated before answering, glancing in Saito's direction to see if he was listening, but the bodyguard appeared to be absorbed in answering a text. It was true that the odds of Seto finding out were slim to none since he was bound to be at work until stupid O'clock at night, and even if he did find out, what could he do? Yell maybe.

"Ok, let's do it!"

Seto sank into his desk chair and allowed himself a moment of rest. Dartz had managed to wreak havoc during his brief stint as owner of Kaiba Corp and it was up to him to sort it out and put the company back on track.

He'd spent the entire day so far in meetings. First with the head of the PR department to figure out the best way to let the public know that Kaiba Corporation was hardly on the brink of bankruptcy, then with the head of sales and his team who were going through some sort of existential crisis over the number of people wanting to return their Duel Disks. After that he'd had to sit through a video conference with some of the major shareholders and listen to them bitch about their concerns for the future of their investment. Finally, he had some well-earned time to himself. He was enjoying the silence of his office when his phone rang. Wondering what on earth he was needed for now, he picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he said brusquely.

"Sir, it's Roland."

"What do you want? I told you that I'm not meeting with anyone else unless they can offer solutions and not just tell me about all the problems I already know about!"

"No, it's nothing like that, sir. I just got a call from Saito. He thought you'd want to know that Alistair just took off towards the mountains on his motorcycle."

"Why would I care about that?"

"Because Mokuba's with him." It took all of Seto's willpower not to smash the phone against the table out of pure frustration.

"And why," he said through gritted teeth, "did Saito think it was appropriate to let Mokuba go with him?"

"Apparently they snuck past him. Saito tried to chase after them, but the car didn't fit on the mountain road, so he tried to call you, but none of his calls got through so he called me, and-."

"What exactly," Seto interrupted him, "is the point of hiring bodyguards if they're incapable of keeping track of one teenager?"

"Sir, I…"

"Find a smaller car and go after them. If anything happens to Mokuba, I'm holding you responsible." Before Roland could respond, Seto jabbed the end call button.

He absently cracked all the knuckles on his right hand as he thought about it, but eventually Seto decided to stay where he was because he suspected that Mokuba had gone willingly. I don't trust Alistair as far as I can throw him, despite what Mokuba thinks, but I don't think he'd hurt Mokuba, not even to get to me.

The further they got from the mansion, the more relaxed Alistair began to feel. He loved riding almost as much as flying, especially out in the country like this where he could go as fast as he wanted. He sped up slightly, aware that Mokuba had never ridden on a motorcycle before, but wanting him to get to experience the thrill of going fast. Mokuba gripped Alistair more tightly, but didn't seem to mind the acceleration.

As they roared up the mountain path, dirt spraying out behind them, Mokuba reflected on what Alistair had said about Seto being too controlling of him. Maybe he had a point. After all, when Seto had been fourteen he'd already been in control of Kaiba Corp for a year, was readying the release of the first ever 3D dueling arena, and had almost achieved a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, surely he had to realize that Mokuba was old enough to go on a motorcycle ride.

When they finally reached the top of the mountain, Alistair bringing the bike to a dramatic sliding halt, and had a chance to admire the view, Mokuba had made up his mind to have a talk with his brother about giving him a little more freedom.

"Did you like it?" Alistair asked, pulling his helmet off, setting it on the ground next to the motorcycle, and shaking his hair out.

"It was really fun!" Mokuba exclaimed, yanking the helmet off his head, his messy black hair frizzing around his shoulders. "But it must be even better to be the one driving, huh?"

Alistair nodded. "It's the closest a person can come to feeling like they're flying and still be on the ground. And it's not hard to drive, not compared to a plane."

"I bet. Maybe I'll learn how to drive one someday."

"Sure. I could teach you."

"Why are you so nice to me?" Mokuba asked curiously, setting the helmet that was actually his brother's on the ground next to Alistair's. The question caught Alistair off guard.

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"I mean, you've said multiple times that you don't like my brother, so why are you nice to me? Is it to bother Seto?" The thought had just occurred to the younger boy who was always having to live in the shadow of his brother, how people treated him dictated by their feelings towards Seto, no one seeming to actually care about him.

Alistair saw the look of dismay on Mokuba's face and felt guilty since it was in fact true, in part, that he was eager to befriend Mokuba to get under Kaiba's skin, but it was also because the boy reminded him so much of Mikey.

"It's nothing like that," Alistair said finally. "Sure I don't like Kaiba, but that has nothing to do with how I feel about you. You were kind to me, so I like you. And you remind me of my brother."

Mokuba looked first relieved, then sympathetic. "You must really miss him."

Alistair nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It was moments like this when he missed Mikey the most. He really did like Mokuba, but he wished it was his own brother he was taking for a ride in the mountains.

"Kaiba has no idea how lucky he is," Alistair said huskily, trying to compose himself.

Mokuba's eyebrows knit in sympathy. He knew about the revolution that had been taking place across the border, of course. Knew how they'd gone through two shaky regimes in fifteen years, and about the thousands of civilians who had died in the crossfire as the rebel army and military continued to fight for power. Knew too, about the controversy as the Domino government wavered back and forth on whether to relax the border to take in refugees, uncertain whether to bend to the pressure from its' people, who balked at the notion of clogging the system with their poor and undereducated neighbors, or the United Nations, who decried Domino for standing by while innocent people continued to be slaughtered. But none of the political discourse or even the shocking images on the news of crying children and hollow-eyed women had made it real for him. Until Alistair had come along, the conflict across the border had simply been a touchy subject he'd been instructed not to discuss in public.

After Alistair had pulled himself together, he and Mokuba went on as though the moment had never happened and explored the patch of woodland on top of the mountain, finally retrieving the sandwiches Trudy had packed for them out of the compartment on the seat of the motorcycle, and sitting down to eat them while exclaiming over the landscape below.

Alistair would have liked to have spent all day just lying in the grass and looking up at the sky, but after the first fifteen minutes, Mokuba started to fidget.

The view was beautiful, it wasn't that, it was that the grass was pricklier than it looked, and he was convinced he'd already been bitten at least twice. A city boy through and through. Sensing Mokuba's discomfort, and correctly guessing its source, Alistair suggested that they head back. Gratefully, Mokuba agreed.

They were only a third of the way back down when they all but ran headlong into Roland on the narrow road. To avoid a collision, Alistair was forced to skid to a stop, but because the road was made of dirt and pebbles, the tires couldn't grip -nor defy the power of physics- and the bike tipped over, taking Alistair and Mokuba with it, landing heavily on Mokuba's left leg.

Alistair yanked his helmet off as Roland jumped out of his black pickup truck to rush to their aid.

"Are you ok?" Alistair asked Mokuba in concern. Mokuba groaned, also taking his helmet off and rubbing his head.

"I'm not sure. I hit my head, and I can't move my leg."

"Are you alright?" Roland asked, horrified that he'd been the cause of the accident, bending to try and help heft the machine off the two. With Alistair's help, he managed it. Alistair immediately got to his feet to assess the damage to himself and to Mokuba. He was more or less alright himself; his helmet, jacket, and riding gloves had absorbed much of the impact, although his wrist felt sprained. Mokuba tried to stand, but immediately fell over, clutching his leg which had twisted on an unnatural angle, the blood draining from his face.

"We have to get you to a hospital," Roland said unnecessarily. "I'll take you right now." He and Alistair helped Mokuba hobble over to the passenger seat and get him in the car.

Mokuba taken care of, Roland turned to Alistair.

"Can you follow behind?"

"Why? I'm fine."

Taking in the way Alistair was favoring his left wrist, Roland shook his head."You should have your wrist looked at. Can you drive?"

"Of course." Alistair had driven with broken bones before, a sprained wrist would hardly slow him down.

After the doctor had dressed Mokuba's broken leg and assured a distraught Roland that it wasn't as bad as it could have been, and had told Alistair what he'd already known about his wrist being sprained, Roland knew he had to call his boss.

It was with great trepidation that Roland dialed his boss's number. "Sir," he started once Seto had picked up. "I have some bad news."

Seto felt his stomach constrict. Had he been wrong? Had Alistair done something to Mokuba? "What happened?" he demanded, already halfway out of his seat. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the hospital. Everyone's fine, but Mokuba broke his leg."

"He what? How?" There was a long pause. "Spit it out, Roland!"

"I was driving up to check on them at the same time that they were coming back down and we almost ran into each other. The bike tipped over and landed on Mokuba's leg. The doctor said that it's not a bad break, though."

"Well that's great news," Seto spat sarcastically. "Jesus Christ, Roland, don't you know how to drive?" Roland wasn't usually one to try to worm his way out of taking responsibility for his actions, but in this case, since he didn't care for Alistair anyway, he decided to make an exception.

"All due respect, but Alistair was driving way too fast for a mountain road."

"I couldn't care less whose fault it was, what is this, kindergarten? The point is that Mokuba's got a broken leg and now I have to interrupt my day to go deal with it."

"There's no need for you to come here, I can sort out the insurance and get Mokuba home."

"Excuse me for being skeptical, but since between you, neither you nor Saito were able to keep Mokuba safe in the first place, I'd rather deal with this myself." Without bothering to say goodbye, Seto hung up the phone and prepared to head over to the hospital. As he was leaving his office, Valerie looked up from her computer and eyed him questioningly.

"Push my meeting to tomorrow; I have to pick my brother up from the hospital," he explained shortly.

"Of course."

Seto arrived at the hospital twenty minutes later to find Roland, Alistair, and Mokuba, now on crutches and with a cast on his leg, waiting for him. He glared at all three of them. Roland and Mokuba looked properly chastised, but Alistair stared back at him defiantly which only served to piss Seto off further. He was sick of having to clean up other people's messes, he really didn't like hospitals, and the only emotion that should have been emanating from the redhead was shame at having caused the accident that had dragged Seto there.

On the ride back to the estate, Mokuba apologized profusely to his brother for having gone off when he knew he shouldn't have, and promised it would never happen again. He seemed to think that Seto's silence was an indication that he was gearing up to really let him have it when they got home. Alistair knew better. Gearing up though he probably was, Alistair was fairly certain it wouldn't be Mokuba bearing the brunt of Kaiba's wrath.

Upon entering the grounds, Roland, with Saito's help, unloaded Alistair's motorcycle (now sporting a long scratch down one side) and wheeled it off to the garage, but not before Seto shot Saito a look that said quite plainly how he felt about the man letting Mokuba drive off with Alistair.

It wasn't until the three of them were in the house that Seto finally spoke. "Mokuba-."

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry!"

"Go to your room." Mokuba let his head hang and proceeded to limp off, still not used to having to use crutches to walk. Once he was gone, Seto turned to look at Alistair. He narrowed his eyes and in one swift motion, pinned Alistair to the wall by his neck. Alistair, unable to fight back, could only glare right back at Kaiba who was standing practically nose to nose with him. "Don't you ever endanger Mokuba's life again," Seto breathed, his eyes boring into Alistair's. "You're here because I let you stay-a courtesy you hardly deserve. And mark my words: keeping you around doesn't have to be enjoyable for you, and the only thing stopping me from locking you in the basement is Mokuba's insistence that I treat you humanely. But if you so much as suggest that he do something dangerous I will ensure that you rot in the dark-do I make myself clear?"

Alistair knew that it was protective older brother Kaiba he was talking to, and protective older brother Kaiba deserved his respect."Fine. I understand."

Seto had expected a snarky comment, not compliance, and faltered while searching for a response. In that moment, he became uncomfortably aware that he was standing close enough to Alistair to see that he had three light freckles lining his cheekbone. Somehow even angrier than before, he flung Alistair away from him before silently stalking back outside to the waiting limo that would return him to Kaiba Corp.

Alistair rubbed his neck. It could have been worse, and he was definitely going to store away a few insults about Kaiba wearing make-up for later.

Author's note: I wanted to say thank you for the lovely reviews, they really made my day! ^.^

I think it's fair to note that while I want to do my best to stay true to canon, I will, and have, been picking and choosing certain things out of the dub and the original to try and weave them into one reality and I'm not really touching the manga as far as Seto's characterization is concerned.