It's all too easy to think of the Kaibas' past and feel kind of depressed. We think of the orphanage, we think of Gozaburo. We think of godparents who didn't really give a crap about them, and we think about the fact that their parents died too soon.
What's harder to remember is that there were people throughout that time that loved them, and cared about them. Seto might be a bitter, cynical, skeptical sumbitch, and he might have good reason to be, but there are people in his past that he doesn't hate. While his life hasn't been anything resembling easy, I try to remember the silver linings in all those storm clouds every once in a while.
That's what this chapter is about.
So remember with them, won't you?
She called Kaiba-Corp on the 13th, but since a new project was launching four days from then, the message didn't get to Seto's desk until the 20th. He walked into his office that morning with his usual stern disposition, until he saw the note someone had left for him.
He read it quickly, with the air of someone who isn't particularly interested; then he stopped, and read it again. He picked up his phone, checked the spelling of the name. He asked for more details, his breath coming quicker and quicker as he did so. He couldn't have explained what had him in this state, even if someone had had the gall to ask.
He hung up the phone, snatched up the note along with his briefcase, threw his jacket over his shoulder and swept out into the hall. "Kaiba-shachou," said Kyoko, from her vigil at the front desk when he passed her like the proverbial bat out of the hot place, "where are you going, sir?"
"I'm taking a personal day," he said, already halfway out the door.
He drove over to Mokuba's school, and went straight to the principal's office. Janis Fields, a severe-looking woman with a disarming smile, greeted him warmly. "What can I do for you, Mister Kaiba?"
Not three minutes later, Mokuba received a call to the principal's office, and he left his science class looking bewildered. When he entered and saw his brother sitting there, looking nervous, confusion switched instantly to panic. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Family emergency," Seto delivered to Miss Fields, for whom the same question was clearly written on her face. He stood up, took his brother's hand, and all but yanked him along as he headed back to the parking lot.
"What's going on, Niisama?" Mokuba asked, his grey-violet eyes going wide. He'd never seen his brother quite like this before. "I was about to give a presentation."
"We'll work it out later," Seto said, and the younger Kaiba was surprised at just how…dismissive he sounded. Usually, schoolwork took priority, such that Mokuba could be vomiting up blood and Seto would still expect him to make a good-faith effort. Now, the man sounded like a project worth half an exam was as superficial as gum on his shoe.
The elder Kaiba called ahead to the house staff, snarling at them to make sure that the place was spotless. He wanted everything in order; he wanted tea, coffee, and light snacks set out in the front parlor. He said they would have a half-hour, and he would be home in four minutes.
Those four minutes passed and, true to his word, Seto was pulling through the front gates. He all but sprinted up to the house, leaving Mokuba to scramble after him. Seto told the black-haired boy to brush his hair, and Mokuba knew better than to question the order. He doubted Seto would actually hear anything that his brother said right now. He was in the zone.
Twenty minutes after they walked through the door, the Kaiba home was sparkling. Mokuba sat on the couch, hair as neat as he could make it, while Seto sat rigid in his chair. His eyes were closed, his face set in a stone scowl. He didn't fidget, but all the same Mokuba thought he looked like he wanted to.
The boy had given up asking what the heck was going on, and simply resigned himself to waiting. When the doorbell rang, Seto stood smoothly without the faintest trace of nervousness. He strode over to the door and opened it.
A woman, with grey-streaked black hair held up in a stylish-looking bun, stood there. She had a broad, kind face; the face of a beloved aunt. She was dressed simply in jeans and a blouse, a coat slung over one arm, the hand of which held a bundle to her side.
The woman looked…familiar, but Mokuba couldn't place her.
She beamed at a man known to give people nightmares, like he was a long-lost son. "Good morning, Seto."
Mokuba tried to remember the last time someone had called his brother by his given name, and couldn't. But if that was surprising, then the smile that spread—subconsciously—across Seto's face was almost terrifying.
"Good morning, Valery," Seto said, and he actually hugged the woman.
Once Mokuba's jaw had extricated itself from the floor, he felt an almost inexorable urge to cry. It was a combination of two things: one, that Seto felt comfortable enough with someone (other than Mokuba himself) to actually hug her; and two, that the woman was comfortable enough with him to hug back. And it wasn't one of those polite, 'how-nice-to-see-you-go-away' hugs; Valery's eyes sprang with tears as she patted Seto's back.
"It's wonderful to see you, dear," Valery said.
"You, as well," Seto replied, pulling back and gesturing for her to come in. "Please, sit down."
She sat, and noticed the spread on the table. Her eyes brightened as she took in the tea. "May I?" she asked, and Seto waved an inviting hand. She immediately began pouring, a grin on her face that would have fit better for a three-year-old meeting Santa Claus at the mall for the first time.
Then she looked over at the boy with whom she was sharing the couch, and raised a critical eyebrow. Mokuba squeaked, and sat ramrod straight, feeling like he'd just been caught at something.
"And what's this?" Valery asked, her voice a whip-crack. She turned a bit to look the young Kaiba full in the face. "What, do you think you're exempt, young man? I won't have it, do you hear?"
Mokuba turned a thoroughly flabbergasted, terrified expression on his brother, who was still smirking. He yelped when he felt the woman's deceptively strong arms wrapped him in a near-smothering embrace.
"Look at you!" she declared, her tone having changed to absolute glee. She pulled back, her hands on Mokuba's shoulders. "The last time I saw you, you were still in a high-chair. How old are you now, darling?"
Mokuba struggled to speak. "…E-E-Eleven, ma'am?"
Seto laughed. "This is Valery Hitcher," he said, his voice warmer and brighter than it had been in months. "She was your babysitter, back before the Children's Home."
Valery turned a sardonic eye on Seto. "I used to watch you, too. Listen to him. Kaiba-shachou thinks he's always been mature enough to look after himself, does he?"
Seto's expression didn't shift a micrometer. "We both know you could have left me in my room, and I wouldn't have done anything that could constitute misbehavior. It isn't my fault you insisted on being active."
Valery smirked, an oddly accurate facsimile of Seto's most famous expression.
Seto sat back down in his chair. "Do you remember, Mokuba?" he asked.
Mokuba thought back, searching Valery's face. "I…think so."
Valery beamed at him, tousling his hair and thus invalidating the thoroughly frustrating time he'd spent trying to tame it. Mokuba shot a glare at his brother, who simply chuckled. "Don't worry about it, dear," she said. "I remember enough for the both of us."
"What brings you to the city?" Seto asked, and for once it sounded legitimately conversational, rather than the far more popular impatient. "You've been here since last week."
"Yes," Valery said. "Your secretary told me that you were busy with a new game? I trust the rush has…calmed down a bit?"
"Enough," Seto said.
Then Valery glared at him. "Why is this boy not in school? What are you teaching him?" She looked down at Mokuba, laid a hand on his forehead. "That's what I thought. You're not sick, are you? What's the meaning of this, Seto?"
Seto shrugged nonchalantly. "I haven't any idea what you're insinuating. Clearly he has the day off. Else he wouldn't be here. Do you think me irresponsible?"
Mokuba blinked. "…Huh?"
"Mm-hm," Valery nodded. "Certainly. That must be it. Well, anyway, I believe I've finally realized that I'm not suited to the east coast. Actually, I think I realized it a number of years ago, but only just recently managed to come into enough…ah…capital to make the trip back."
At this point, a "normal" rich person would have said that he would have been happy to help with the move, if only she'd asked. It calmed Mokuba's fluttering heart a bit that Seto said nothing. At least there was something familiar about this thoroughly outrageous morning.
"We're looking for furniture at the moment," Valery said, "scouring garage sales. I'm not sure I've seen Joel looking so excited since he realized I Love Lucy was out on DVD."
Seto leaned back in his chair, looking imperial.
"It certainly seems you've been busy in the years I've been gone," Valery said. "All this talk on TV about the youngest billionaire in California's history? And how he's been getting into all sorts of trouble? Honestly, Seto, you seemed so responsible when you were little. What's gotten into you? With those flashy outfits and throwing cards around. What sort of example are you setting for your brother?"
If not the fact that her eyes were practically dancing with pride, Mokuba might have felt the need to stick up for his brother, and explain some of his more…theatrical appearances.
"Those holograms…" Valery said, seeming to have recalled something. "That's what they are, right? Joel seems convinced it's 'the CGI.' You made those yourself?"
"Kaiba-Corp did," Seto said. "The original technology is mine. I haven't created a Solid Vision hologram myself since 2002."
"And what's this talk of virtual reality?"
Seto smirked. "It's still a prototype."
Valery shook her head, looking thunderstruck. "My lord," she whispered. "What a mind you have." She looked back at Mokuba. "What about you, hm? How are you doing in school?"
"Okay," Mokuba said, somewhat sheepishly.
"Okay, hm? And what does that mean?"
Seto stood up, walked over to the mantle on the far west wall, and retrieved a small envelope. He brought it to Valery. "His latest progress report, from two weeks ago."
Valery inspected the report thoroughly. "Well, now. This is a fair sight better than okay, sweetie." She looked at him again. She looked back. "Wait…what's this? Middle school?" She eyed Seto suspiciously. "When did he start, Seto?"
"He attended kindergarten at five," Seto said.
"…You little rascal, you did. You skipped a grade, didn't you?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And here I was, worrying," Valery shook her head. "You're a little genius, too, aren't you?" She ruffled Mokuba's hair again. "Oh, but I don't know what's in those genes of yours. Must have come from your mother." Her expression turned somewhat dark. "Lord only knows your father's stock hadn't enough brains to hack together a brick wall."
Seto actually chuckled, where Mokuba had expected him to scowl.
"Which reminds me," Valery said, and set her bundle on the table and removing something from it. "I wanted to show you boys something." She set down what turned out to be a large, leather-bound book.
Mokuba leaned forward, curious.
Seto leaned back, guarded.
It was a photo album, and Mokuba knew just enough Japanese to recognize what the two characters stamped in silver on the front meant.
夜神
Yagami.
"Your father left this with me, a long time ago," Valery said, opening the album. The first image that popped into Mokuba's head was Kaiba Gozaburo, but of course that wasn't who she meant. She meant their real father. The man he didn't remember. The man Seto never wanted to talk about. "I think it's better off in your hands than mine." She glanced at Mokuba. "Do you remember your father, dear?"
Mokuba glanced at Seto, at the pained expression on his face, and shook his head. "No. Not really."
She opened up the album, turned to a page near the back, and pointed. "Look here, Mokuba." The photo was worn around the edges, but still clearly a lot newer than many of them. It showed a tired-looking middle-aged man, dressed in jeans and a hunting jacket, with one arm wrapped around a young boy's shoulder. The boy was holding a baby in his arms. The man and boy both had identical, half-sincere smiles on their faces. The baby was staring up at the sky, looking mystified.
"…That's…me," Mokuba murmured thoughtfully, pointing to the little infant, who had a tuft of black hair atop his tiny head. He looked up at Valery. "Isn't it?"
"Yes, it is."
Seto stood up and shifted over next to them, looking down. He didn't seem to want to look at these pictures; Mokuba wondered why he was bothering. Valery looked over her shoulder. "Do you remember this picture, Seto?"
"1997," Seto said, "November. He took us camping that weekend."
Valery grinned. "Yes! Yes, he did, didn't he?"
Mokuba studied the man. He had brown hair, like Seto's. It was shoulder-length, shaggy. He had a five-o-clock shadow, his clothes were sort of rumpled, and he had a look about him that suggested immense fatigue. He had telltale dark circles under his grey eyes.
The boy was small, with blue eyes that seemed almost too bright. Unlike his father, the boy was focused and proverbially bushy-tailed. Sort of. He held the baby tightly in both arms, seeming to shelter it.
Mokuba smiled. "My father," he said.
Valery spent the morning showing Mokuba through all the pictures in the album. Pictures of his parents on their wedding day, pictures of his parents when they first started dating; one in particular showed his mother holding an infant in her arms with a look of absolute radiance on her face. Where her husband's smiles almost always looked forced, Yagami Yuki's happiness seemed to come right through the album and wash the room. Even in the flatness of the photographs, the sparkle in her violet eyes was palpable.
Mokuba dared a glance at his brother when he came across these, and choked up when he saw that Seto was smiling. Like when he'd first seen Valery, it was likely subconscious. Mokuba highly doubted Seto knew that he was smiling.
"Look!" Mokuba said when he flipped to a particular page. "That looks just like…like the queen from your virtual game!" He turned a shocked expression on his brother. "She even has the same dress!"
The picture, indeed, portrayed a young girl—perhaps ten or so years old—with a tiara atop her messy black hair and dressed in a princess gown. Judging by the boy dressed in cardboard armor to her left, and the clown to her right, she was wearing a Halloween costume.
She and Mokuba could have passed for twins.
Seto smirked. "You didn't think I actually modeled that character after you, did you?" he asked.
"So…this is…Mom?"
Seto nodded.
Valery looked at Mokuba more closely. "…But you are a dead-ringer for Yuki. I don't think I've ever noticed before."
"How long did you know her?" Mokuba asked. "My mom, I mean."
"Pretty much since she moved here to the States. I think she was twenty-three when I met her?" Valery said. "I drove her to the hospital, the night your brother was born. Kohaku was at a job site two towns away. I think he ended up taking a bus."
Seeing the curiosity on Mokuba's face, that bordered on hunger, Seto added: "She waited until she and Father were United States citizens before getting married. She was twenty-six years old when I was born." His breath hitched slightly. "Eight years later, she had you."
Valery was nodding. "I don't think I'd ever seen her happier than when she had you boys. She always loved children, and dreamed of having her own someday. She used to get in arguments about it. A lot of her friends and coworkers were involved in politics. Women's rights, you know, and I guess they were offended that Yuki was content to just…have a family. She wasn't very ambitious." Valery turned a certain look on Seto. "Unlike someone I can think of."
"She aspired to something most people refuse to understand," Seto muttered darkly. "Anyone seeking to belittle her for accomplishing what she did…has an immensely narrow view of the world."
Valery's expression turned bittersweet. "She would have loved to hear you say that."
So did Seto's. "I'm not so sure."
"Well, I knew your mother better than most, and I am." Valery reached out and took one of Seto's hands. "I know you don't put much stock in Heaven, and I'm not about to try to convince you otherwise. But trust me when I say that if it is up there, so is she. I'd bet my life she's prouder than any mother who came before her, to say nothing of the ones who came after." She stood up, turned to look at both of them. "You boys were her crowning achievements, and if you think for a second that you haven't lived up to every expectation she ever might have dreamed, I'll smack the both of you upside the head."
Mokuba smiled.
Seto still looked doubtful, as was his way.
"I have to get back to Joel before he blows up our entire block," she said with a sigh. "The way he gets with electronics…if I didn't know how busy you were, Seto, I'd hire you to teach him. Lord knows he needs someone who knows what the devil they're doing." She reached down and flipped to the back of the photo album and picked up a pair of envelopes. "I have one more thing for you, before I go."
She handed one of the envelopes to Seto, and the other to Mokuba.
"She gave these to me…right after Mokuba came into the world. She asked me to give them to you when I thought you were ready to see them. I daresay it's been a lot longer than she might have expected, but…I hope you understand. I think the time is right, now."
Seto frowned, and opened his envelope. Mokuba glanced at his brother and did the same.
As they began to read the letters that they found inside, Valery Hitcher stood by the doorway. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched them. Before long, they were falling freely down her face.
My dearest Seto,
You've always had a way of figuring things out, even when I didn't want you to. So I'm sure you know, even though no one's told you, that I won't be around for much longer. I won't be able to watch you grow up, or dress you up for your high school graduation. I won't get to visit you at work or embarrass you in front of your coworkers. I won't get to nag you incessantly that I want grandchildren someday, and that you'd better start loosening up a bit so you won't scare away every girl who tries to say hello.
I'm writing this now, to try to make up for that.
On the day you walk up to your principal and accept your diploma, bedecked with all the awards I'm sure you'll win because you don't accept anything less from yourself, think of me. On the day you land your first job, think of me. On the day you earn your first promotion, think of me. If it takes longer than you think it should to do any of these things, think of me.
Remember that I love you, and that I'm proud of you. I always felt like my home, and my life, was missing something. Since the day you came into the world, I never felt that way again.
Your father is going to take this news hard. He's going to need help. He never was all that good with kids. Maybe you've realized that already, and don't need me telling you. It's going to be hard, and it breaks my heart to think that I won't be there to make it easier for you. But I know you'll make it. You've made me the proudest mother in the world. Don't ever think otherwise.
I know that kids at school make it hard for you. I know that you've been lonely, and hurting. I'm so sorry that I have to leave you. But my time is up, and I've served my purpose. I did my part to bring you and your brother into the world, and now God is calling for me.
Even though I'm leaving, I'll be watching over you, now and forever. I love you more than you could ever know. Take care of your brother, and make sure you give him a hug and a kiss whenever he's upset. Tell him it's from me.
This is goodbye for now, my little miracle.
- Mom
My darling Mokuba,
I've only just gotten to meet you, and now I have to let you go. Your daddy's holding you right now, while I write this. You don't seem too happy about it, either. He doesn't really know how to do it. He never has. But that's okay, because your big brother knows. He knows a lot of things. More, I think, than either of us with the nerve to call ourselves his parents.
It's only been a couple of hours since you came into the world, and I think I'm already in love. I want nothing more than to stay here, and watch you grow up. I want to watch you learn to walk, and fret over you while you learn to ride your first bicycle. I want to watch you fight with your brother. I want to dress you up, and give you a little brown bag lunch, and watch you head off to your first day of school. I want to panic when you head off to summer camp, and worry about you each waking moment until you come back home. I want to embarrass you in front of your friends, and give you little nicknames that make you blush.
It turns out I can't. Daddy and Big Brother will have to do it for me. I'm sorry that you won't remember me, and that all you'll have to hold onto are pictures and stories. I'm sorry that I won't be able to watch over you when you're sick, or clean you up when you scrape your knee. I'm sorry that I only have this short time to hold you, to know you, and to love you.
I'm sure that when you're a little older, Daddy will take you to my grave. And I'm sure that your brother will be there too, dressed up in a suit. He likes to dress up. They'll be sad when they do it, but I want you to know that there's no need to be. I'm still here, watching over you. So smile for me. Smile for your daddy, and smile for your brother. Let them know it's okay.
Tell them I love them, and that I'm proud of them.
I love you, too, my little angel. Don't ever forget that.
It's time for me to go now. Mind your brother, take care of Daddy, and remember to smile.
- Mommy
