I think it's obvious to anyone who's read my work that I consider Seto to be Mokuba's father figure. It's, like, the central thesis of everything I've ever done with this series. But that doesn't mean Mokuba doesn't look out for his Niisama, too. He absolutely does.
And sometimes, he makes a game out of it.
.
"Um. What are we doing again?"
Mokuba glanced back at Noa and put a finger across his lips. "Operation: Windfall," he whispered, looking as grim and serious as a soldier on assignment. "You have the parcel?"
"Um." Noa pulled the messenger bag he had slung over his shoulder in front of him, rummaged inside and pulled out a little Tupperware container. "This? It was on the counter in the kitchen. By the blender."
Mokuba nodded. "Excellent work," he said.
Even though it was obvious that this was some kind of joke or game that Mokuba was playing, Noa couldn't help but glow at his brother's praise. He replaced the Tupperware and swished the messenger bag behind him again, crouching just like Mokuba despite having no idea why they were being so secretive.
The house staff going about their business took notice of the two boys but pretended not to. They seemed to know what their young master was up to and found it funny enough to let it go without comment. They slunk through the second-floor hallway toward Seto's bedroom like spies in a videogame, and Noa was quite sure that Mokuba was humming a song from Metal Gear Solid under his breath.
Sausage came across them and, sensing weakness, bounced up onto Mokuba's back. Noa couldn't help but be impressed when his brother remained deathly quiet; he didn't even break his slow, careful stride. He simply kept right on going, reaching up with his left hand to scritch the little cat behind the ears.
Sausage plopped down on his human's back and curled up, purring loudly enough for Noa to hear, even though there were now several feet between them; their destination was near, and Mokuba seemed intent on seeing this mission done as swiftly as possible. Adrenaline held sway now.
Noa felt a sudden urge to ask again what in the name of God they were doing, but he stopped himself.
Mokuba stopped in front of Seto's door. Kneeling there with that look of thunderous gravity on his face, Noa fully expected the door to be locked, and for Mokuba to pull out a set of picks. Instead, he simply reached up and gripped the knob, twisting slowly, so slowly, so slowly.
Noa realized he was avoiding the telltale click of the door opening and realized that—whatever it was they were in the middle of—Seto wasn't supposed to know about it. Was it a prank? Noa knew that Mokuba sometimes pulled random jokes on his brother, like the time he moved every piece of Seto's furniture precisely two inches to the left, or the time they'd played the same song six-hundred times over the course of a weekend.
But no. No, if this were a prank or a joke, surely Mokuba would have told Noa what the plan was. Right?
He decided to wait, observe, and take the answers as they came rather than worry about them now. Mokuba finally worked the door open and slipped inside; Sausage, affronted at the sudden shift of movement from his bed, hopped down to the floor with a little huff.
Noa followed, keeping as low to the floor as possible.
At the wall right next to the threshold leading into Seto's study, where they could hear him typing, Mokuba held out a hand for the parcel. Noa handed the container over; it rustled with . . . whatever was inside, and Mokuba reached out and grabbed it with both hands to quiet it. He glared at the lid like he expected it to back-sass him.
Then, with another finger to his lips, Mokuba counted down from three and slipped inside his brother's office.
Noa watched, pushed up against the wall in the position Mokuba had just vacated, as the younger—now youngest—Kaiba sneaked across the room and pressed himself against Seto's desk. Even if the man had heard something, he wouldn't have been able to see Mokuba without standing up and leaning over.
Seto was too busy with whatever pet project he'd decided to chase today. He had any number of parts and tools and loose sheets of paper on his desk, and the way he was flitting his attention between said papers and the screen in front of him, it seemed like he wouldn't have noticed if a rift opened in the earth directly beneath the house. A tornado siren would have been little more than an annoying noise to him right now.
A tornado would have been an annoying noise to him right now.
Mokuba positioned himself to one side of Seto's desk, took the parcel in both hands, and took off the lid with a care and deliberation that one would use when defusing a bomb. He then carefully, so carefully, slipped the open Tupperware up onto the desk, right where Seto's left hand would naturally rest as he scrolled through things with his right.
This done, Mokuba slipped the discarded lid into a back pocket and scuttled back to Noa.
"Go, go, go!"
Noa followed his brother back out into the hallway; it wasn't until they were back in Mokuba's room that he stood back up and let out a deep breath, slumping his shoulders and wiping his brow. Like he'd just escaped a prison lockdown.
"So, um," Noa ventured.
"Niisama forgets to eat a lot," Mokuba said. "His doctor says he needs to eat regular meals. You know. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. He doesn't do that. He'll make sure we have dinner together, yeah, and he's real on top of whether I eat right. He'll probably be the same with you. But himself? Nah. If you leave him to his own devices, he'll save all his eating for dinner."
Noa frowned. "So . . . that little container was . . . ?"
"Trail mix. Nuts, dried fruit, dark chocolate. Pretzels. You know. The good stuff." Mokuba gestured. "If he's in the middle of a project or working or whatever, he'll eat so long as there's something there. But if he notices you giving it to him, he'll get annoyed and tell you to put it somewhere else. It's in the way. The trick is, you gotta sneak it onto his desk so he doesn't think about it."
"He . . . he doesn't notice?"
"Not for a while, no." Mokuba flashed a grin. "He'll figure it out eventually, but by then it's too late. I'll have sneaked nutrition into him!" He tossed his head back and laughed like a supervillain. "My nefarious machinations have borne fruit!"
Noa smiled. "You guys are ridiculous. You know that, right?"
Mokuba's eyes were sparkling. "Thanks! I work hard at it."
