One of my long-running theories is that Seto doesn't want Mokuba to know about what he had to endure while being "raised" by Gozaburo. Another of my long-running theories is that he does. They keep quiet about it, though, because it doesn't warrant discussion. You could say, and you'd be right, that both Kaiba brothers could stand to have therapy. It would help, likely as not.

Just try convincing either of them to do it.


It's a time Mokuba doesn't like to think about. One of those things you keep in the back of your mind because if you let it come forward, it consumes you. Whenever he thinks back to the fear, to the anger, to the shame…he finds himself unable to think about anything else for days afterward.

Niisama tries to help. Niisama knows what he feels better than anyone else, but even Niisama doesn't understand. He doesn't know what it feels like to stand so close to death that he could smell its breath, taste its intent, cold and hard and metallic, and look straight into Hell. Mokuba doesn't want Niisama to ever have to feel anything like that. Niisama goes through so much, puts up with so much, has so much on his shoulders…he doesn't need to suffer anything else. He shouldn't have to suffer anything else.

So Mokuba puts on a brave face, and he smiles. He's brave, and he's smart, and he's friendly. He makes sure Niisama doesn't have to worry, because that's the last thing he needs to be thinking about. He has too much to worry about already. Mokuba plays games with his friends, and he plans trips for weekends and has sleepovers. All so Niisama won't have to worry. Oh, sure, it's fun and all. He has a good time, but in the back of his mind he thinks…this is for Niisama.

Mokuba has to be happy, he has to be fulfilled…because if he isn't, Niisama will blame himself. Strong Niisama, brave Niisama. The man to whom he owes everything he is, and everything he ever will be.

People think Mokuba doesn't know just how much Niisama's done to keep him safe and happy and well-adjusted. They think he doesn't know that Father used to force him to stay up for days at a time, and that he used to let Diamun beat Niisama when he didn't manage to finish whatever project he was supposed to be doing. Diamun was old-fashioned, and he always thought a switch to the backside was what Niisama needed, and Father never said anything about it when it happened, even though he was clearly disgusted.

Father was disgusted by a lot of things.

So is Niisama.

They think Mokuba doesn't know about the scars.

But he does. He's seen them all. He used to lay awake, his eyes only mostly shut, while Niisama pulled his shirt gingerly off of his back, hissing and cursing whenever the fabric rubbed the wrong way. Mokuba used to study the marks, red and screaming but not bleeding—no, never bleeding—and think: He did that for me. Niisama puts up with it for me.

He lets Niisama think he doesn't know about the scars.

Niisama would be angry with himself if he found out.

Whenever Mokuba thinks about Siegfried von Schroeder, he reminds himself that Niisama might not know what it's like to be that close to death, but it doesn't matter; Niisama suffered through something Mokuba would never understand, something so horrible that there weren't words for it, and whenever Mokuba starts to feel resentful, starts thinking that Niisama wasn't the one with the gun in his mouth, so why's he so bent out of shape about it…

He remembers the scars.

And he remembers how tired Niisama always looks, how his eyes never showed it, how his body never showed it…but how he has an aura of fatigue around him no matter where he goes. "Yeah, well, it's his own fault for taking on more than he can handle," some dark part of Mokuba's mind will tell him sometimes.

"That's not true," Mokuba will say. "He's tired because he can't sleep. Even when he tries."

"He should see a doctor about it, then."

"He can't. Father taught him not to."

"He should get over it. All the stuff he went through, that's in the past. He should be over it by now."

"No. He lost Mom. He lost Dad. The past is everything to him. Everything good…and everything bad."

"What's the big deal about Mom?"

"She died. What if Niisama died? What if Niisama got killed, and I didn't have him anymore? How would I feel? How well would I sleep?"

"…Don't talk like that."

Sometimes, when it gets too hard to handle, and he doesn't know what to do to keep himself from exploding, from screaming and ripping his hair out and throwing himself at the wall, he'll find Niisama in his office. And Niisama will look at him with that little smile he doesn't give anyone else, and he'll say, "Hey, kid."

Mokuba will hug him.

"I love you, Niisama," he'll say.

Niisama will stroke back his hair, pat his back, and say, "I love you, too, Mokuba."

And neither of them will remember the scars.


When used correctly, I find that the present tense adds a certain level of power to a piece of writing. Not that I claim to have harnessed that power here. It's just something I use every so often for a change of pace. Once, I wrote an entire novel this way. It's still around, somewhere, but I haven't edited it nearly well enough to do anything with it.

It took me a long time to get used to writing in past-tense again.

Mokuba might not seem terribly well-adjusted here, but there's a point to that. Those of you who have read the primary "Good Intentions" storyline will know. Timeline-wise, this is probably just after the incident. He's in a dark place; they both are.

I may partner this piece with a similar one from Seto's perspective.

I'll see you all next week.

Take care.