This one is long primarily because about half of it was written a long time ago, and I only recently managed to figure out a way to end it. It's not . . . strictly to my satisfaction, but I think it illuminates quite a few things about the various characters involved.
It's tangentially related to the previous chapter, which wasn't strictly planned. But anyway, I'll let Them™ do the talking.
Let's begin.
.
"Seto-sama . . . I have a serious question to ask you."
Seto was halfway through slipping out of his coat when he froze, turning to face Akiko as though she were his private jailor. Her face was stern, her eyes bright and almost feverish, and that was enough to tell the Kaiba patriarch that he was about to have an uncomfortable conversation.
He finished removing his coat and turned. "Ask, then."
"Not here." Akiko gestured. "This is . . . private."
Seto followed her through the parlor, up the stairs to the second floor. As they passed Mokuba's bedroom in the hallway, Seto said, "Is this something we want him walking in on?" Akiko emphatically shook her head.
Seto knocked on his brother's door.
"Yeah?" came the black-haired boy's voice from beyond the barrier.
"I'm going to be in my study for a private meeting," Seto said. "Unless the house is burning down, treat my office like it doesn't exist."
"Aye-aye, Niisama."
Seto started walking again. At Akiko's odd look, he said, "Better to warn him ahead of time than have him hear us inadvertently. You should know that by now. Problems arise when children are treated as too stupid to understand common decency."
Akiko smiled. "Perhaps you have a point, Seto-sama." She frowned, turning to look at her young charge's door. "But by knowing you're doing something private, he might not be able to resist listening in."
"Is this matter so delicate that you'd rather there be no chance whatsoever that he hear? Perhaps we'd best leave the house, then. Or maybe to the next town over. Shall we book a flight?" Seto scowled. "Or are you insinuating that he can't be trusted?"
Akiko flinched. "N-No. No, of course not. But this is . . . well. Suffice it to say that Bocchan wouldn't approve of what I want to ask you."
"Mm. Frightened of his temper?"
"He's a Kaiba. Of course I am."
Seto chuckled, then turned into his bedroom. As Akiko stepped in, he shut the door, then headed into the adjacent study. Again, he shut the door behind Akiko. Seto thought a moment, seeming to analyze the three chairs: one behind the desk, two opposite it. He sat in one of the set of two, and gestured for her to take the one next to him.
"Now, then," Seto said slowly, "what is this matter that is so delicate? What is your question?"
Akiko sighed, drew in several deep breaths, ignored Seto's questioning look, and eventually managed to say: "I don't want to ask this question. But I feel that I have to. If you knew, in your heart of hearts, that your brother would live a better life with another family, in another lifestyle—not just marginally better, but this-is-a-necessity better—would you give up guardianship?"
Seto blinked. His brain shuddered. His eyes went narrow, then widened, then narrowed again. He studied the door. Then he said, ". . . No."
Akiko lowered her eyes. "You sound quite decisive."
"I am." Seto drew in a deep breath of his own. "I have already exposed my brother to a lifestyle in the proverbial spotlight. His name is already known throughout this city, and his influence will only grow. You recall his . . . private enterprise online, do you not?"
A small smile crept onto Akiko's face. "Yes. Wonderboy's getting quite popular."
"If things were as simple as your question makes them out to be, I would have already sent Mokuba off to live with another family." Something about the way he said this made Akiko think he wasn't being entirely honest. But he forged ahead, and she let him: "He'd fight the decision, but he could eventually grow to appreciate living with, say, the Brinkleys. Or the Mutous. As an example. But he's not going to be disconnected from his name and legacy so easily. You said it already: he's a Kaiba. He was a target the day that man adopted us and brought us into his fold. I realize that Mokuba has been the brunt of many dangerous, deadly, confrontations. I realize that they are almost all connected to the Kaiba name. But I would remind you: that name was not always ours. It once belonged to a man who would have fired you for daring to ask such a question—and that's if you were lucky—and it's his ghost that will haunt my brother forever."
Akiko licked her lips nervously. "I've seen the way he looks up to you, Seto-sama. He breaks his back to emulate you. And I know you don't encourage him to do that, but you don't exactly discourage him, either. I'm not talking about his status as a Kaiba. Not really. I'm talking about the example you set for him."
Seto closed his eyes. "I'm teaching him to survive in a world that won't treat him fairly." He opened them again, and stared so deeply into Akiko's own that they felt like blades digging into her head. "I don't trust the people of this city to treat him the way that I do. I've given them innumerable chances to do that, and they never have."
"With due respect, Seto-sama, the longer I'm here, the more I notice some of his unhealthy habits. He doesn't sleep enough. He's constantly working. You're leading him down a path that I can't, in good conscience, allow to happen without saying something. He wants to be you. And you know just as well as I do that you are not a bastion of health. You're in peak physical condition, and you have the sharpest mind I've ever come into contact with, but forgive my saying this: you're an emotional wreck." She paused. "Do you really want your little brother following in those footsteps?"
"No. I don't. I'm a narcissistic mental case. My brother is kind, giving, charismatic, and very realistic about his capabilities. The only things he's gained from me are work ethic and confidence. If these traits are coming to a level that concerns you, then we'll talk about that. But don't try to convince me that Mokuba is turning into me. I'd have seen that long before you."
"I have to disagree," Akiko pressed. "You're extremely invested in this, and I'm pretty sure that you aren't a stranger to lying. To others, or to yourself."
Seto's eyes flashed with a sudden fury so cutting that Akiko flinched as if he'd slapped her. "So, you want truth? You want deep, dark, viscous honesty? Fine. The truth is I'm too fucking selfish to let him go. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Will that satisfy your 'good conscience?'"
Akiko frowned, lowered her eyes, then raised them again. "Seto-sama. I'm not attacking you. I know how hard you work to take care of—"
"No. No, you don't know. What you know is what you've been told. Do you realize that no one has taken care of that child's needs, aside from me? Do you realize that his father, both of his fathers, his godparents, his social workers, his peers, his teachers, have never lifted a single, solitary finger to provide for him? They've all left it to one person: me. If I'm not good enough for you, then take it up with everyone else who's failed him, because the line is rather disgustingly long."
"The reason I asked you such a harsh hypothetical is because something needs to change. I'm not threatening or insinuating anything, Seto-sama. I'm saying that you've always been willing and ready to sacrifice anything for your brother. Well, I'm asking you to sacrifice that exact willingness, at least a little bit, and take care of yourself for once. Give him a healthy example to live up to. He deserves that. So do you."
"If I were healthy, my brother would be dead." Seto stood up and walked around to the other side of his desk, and stood there. "The only reason he is alive right now, the only reason you are here to work with him, is because a man named Siegfried von Schroeder was killed before he had a chance to blow my brother's head off. I did that. Do you know how I did that? I stopped being human. If I were a healthy example for him to live up to, do you think I could have done that? Do you think I could have let go of the fear? You're a healthy adult, aren't you? Could you have done it?"
"No. I couldn't have. But that . . . kind of illuminates my point." Seto opened his mouth to speak, but Akiko cut him off: "This isn't an attack on your character, Seto-sama. I know more than you might think just how many good things you've taught him. I'm specifically talking about those few bad habits which, conscious or not, he's picked up. I'm fully convinced that the only way for him to stop pushing himself so far, the only way for him to understand that your lifestyle isn't healthy, is if you stop living it. He's too dependent on you. He won't change unless you do."
Seto sat down again, this time behind his desk, and heaved a sigh.
"The fate of the world doesn't rest on your shoulders," Akiko said slowly.
". . . No," Seto said, just as slowly, "but the fate of my brother does."
Something flared in Akiko's eyes this time. "No, it doesn't!" she snapped. "That's the point! You act like if you let go of this stranglehold you have on yourself that he'll somehow explode, but the real damage is being done already! If you don't let go, then you're going to deprive him of the life you're so willing to sacrifice yours for!"
"Do you know how many people have threatened my brother's life?"
". . . I know that only one abduction was ever made public. I'm supposing the number is actually higher than that."
"That's right. He's been targeted by a fair sight more people than you know about, and the only reason he's alive right now is because I was vigilant, and I taught him to be vigilant. You want me to let go, to relax, to stop acting like I'm walking on a tightrope and just understand that there are so many people who would help me if I just let them in. Well, let's lay this on the table right now. No. I refuse."
"Then you're condemning your brother to a lifestyle that will kill him. You're going to sacrifice him as some martyr to your unwillingness to change your worldview. I can't let you do that."
The entire set of Seto Kaiba's body changed, and a soft, feral growl vibrated through his limbs. "Don't draw this line in the sand. Don't start this war."
"This isn't a war, Seto-sama. It's a child's life. A life you hired me to help protect. Do I have to protect him from you? Because t's starting to sound like it." Akiko stood up. "If you treat every potential threat like an actual one, he's never going to live the life you want for him. He's going to grow up a prisoner in his own mind. I'm not saying the sacrifices you've made were in any way wrong, or that they weren't worth it. I'm saying they won't be worth it if you can't turn this off. You're like a soldier who can't leave the battlefield behind. You're both suffering for it, and that isn't fair. It isn't right. It isn't healthy, and you didn't hire me to let it happen."
Despite insisting that this discussion wasn't a war, Akiko could tell that a huge battle was taking place on Seto's face. His eyes were alive with fire, and his mouth was set into an immovable line, likely because if he let it open, a torrent of threats and curses would be made manifest in the air.
He finally settled on saying: ". . . I can see why Kristine Hathaway recommended you. Lesser mortals would have run from this room by now, possibly worried about the weapon I keep in my desk drawer."
"If I were worried for my safety, Seto-sama," Akiko said, "I would have resigned long before now." She sighed again. "You're obsessive, angry, bitter, and you can't let go of your incessant pessimism to save your life. I'm simply asking you to try so that you can save your brother's."
"Let's not act like he's a suicidal wreck," Seto said. "You're being dramatic." He held up a hand when Akiko started to speak. "No. I let you lay out your point, now I'll lay out mine." He stood up. He never seemed able to sit down for long, when he was in a certain mood.
Akiko looked suddenly nervous, despite her previous claim.
He stepped over to his single bookshelf. He pulled out a thick, paperback volume and showed it to her. It read on the front cover: Gambit: The Official Handbook. "My brother selected a team of our best, and created one of our most recent games. You've heard of it."
Akiko nodded. "Of course."
"You recall, I'm sure, the public's reception of it."
". . . Vividly."
"Mokuba has since, because of that reception, resigned from his position as my vice president. His current title is 'Creative Consultant.' Everyone at Kaiba-Corp knows who he is, and they know to defer to him. He still has a lofty reputation there. But he is no longer working for my company. He's an independent contractor."
Akiko raised an eyebrow.
"I say this because I need you to understand something: there isn't a single bone in my body that would have let me do that. If there is a single belief that defines my existence, it is that failure is unacceptable. I would never, even on pain of death, step down from my position. He did. If Mokuba can defy my expectations in that, then trust me: he'll be fine. He knew beyond any sliver of doubt that backing out would disappoint me. And it did. Heavily. But he did it anyway, because that's what he needed. He made a public announcement, he laid out his plans, and he did it without a single apology to me. For that, I am indescribably proud."
"You seem to be viewing this from a very biased lens, Seto-sama."
"Don't kid yourself. So are you."
"That's probably true, but—"
A knock came at the bedroom door.
"Is the house on fire?" Seto asked sharply.
"Maybe," was Mokuba's reply.
Neither Seto nor Akiko missed the boy's tone.
They stood up, walked out into the other room, and Seto reached out to let his brother inside. The young Kaiba took two steps across the threshold and gestured behind him. "Kiko?" he said, slowly. "This is Noa."
The boy in white stepped forward, but didn't cross the threshold into the room. He said, "I'm a prototype. Ever seen a movie where a computer talks to its user in order to facilitate productivity?" He gestured to himself. "I'm that. For him."
". . . What?"
"I'm a personal assistant and knowledge navigating application tied directly into Solid Vision projectors built throughout the grounds," Noa said. "I handle background work while Mokuba is up front." The boy grinned. "You know that paperclip everyone hates from Microsoft Word? I'm like that."
Akiko blinked. ". . . Okay?"
"He made a judgment call today," Mokuba said, crossing his arms. "He thought I should hear about this private meeting you're having." Akiko flinched; Seto did not. Mokuba bowed. "I'm sorry, Niisama. I shouldn't have let him . . . help me eavesdrop."
"I insisted," Noa put in.
"The honesty is appreciated, at least," Seto muttered.
Mokuba's face was completely unreadable as he stood up again. He said, very slowly and carefully: "In the future, I would appreciate it if certain members of our house staff could treat me with a bit more respect than to assume that my mental state is dependent on how often my brother smiles at flowers."
He bowed at the waist, turned on a heel, and walked down the hall.
Noa remained. He said, "For the record, Yoshimi-sama. Your concerns are entirely valid and you have every right to voice them. I would, however, advise you to be careful. There is one matter on which I believe Mokuba-sama and Seto-sama are irretrievably similar, and that is this: they are obscenely protective of one another."
Now it was Noa's turn to bow.
"Please, Yoshimi-sama, do not mistake that for dependence."
The boy blipped out of existence.
Seto sighed. ". . . We'll continue this discussion later, perhaps in my office at Kaiba-Corp. Or a hotel room. Or the fucking garage. Anywhere." He turned back toward his study. "For now, a compromise. I will . . . more carefully examine my habits, and determine a healthier course of action to take for the foreseeable future. Contingent upon this, I would ask that you more carefully examine your understanding of this household, and determine whether my actions are . . . sufficient."
Akiko chuckled. "I suppose I'll have to make do with that. For now." She bowed, and said, "By your leave."
Seto gestured.
"By the way," she said, glancing down at the spot where Noa had been standing, "I can't help but notice that your brother's . . . assistant looks rather a lot like you."
"Mokuba thought it would be funny, to have a miniature me hopping around in his computer."
"And the green hair?"
"A glitch in the display. He decided he liked it."
"Your technological advancements . . . continue to surprise."
Seto put on a manufactured expression that almost looked happy. "Don't they?"
