When Seth appeared beside Seto late that night, it startled him more than he cared to admit. He should have gotten used to things like this by now.
"I'm sorry about Mokuba," he murmured, making the brunette start and almost knock his laptop out of his lap entirely.
Yeah, well, I guess Millennium Items aren't that practical. Magic is all well and good when fighting other magic, but if it can't cure disease or put out a fire, it's not that helpful.
Seto's tart retort was a manifestation of his accumulated frustration with his circumstances. Seth understood this and derived no personal offense from his comment. Even though Seto couldn't feel his embrace, Seth easily straddled the chair behind Seto, wrapped his arms around his midsection, and rested his chin on Seto's shoulder. After a few moments, Seto resumed working, remaining acutely aware of Seth's ghost.
"I remember getting sick once when I was young," Seth said suddenly, staring at the computer gibberish before them. "It was like this, but it was more fever than coughing."
He spoke calmly, slowly, which allowed Seto to keep working while paying attention.
"We called it Patters. Most kids got it once in their life, but I got it during a drought. It felt like I was burning alive. My mother thought I was going to die. We both thought so."
Seto could imagine: a fever in the desert during a drought. Some would have considered death a more merciful option.
You're stronger because of it, Seto assured without his eyes leaving the endless string of code. When they first met, Seto would have considered Seth far above the need for assurance, but now Seto saw him for what he was: a man, just like any other. Just like Seto.
"Mokuba will be too."
Seto stewed over those words, trying to believe them.
"Hey."
A new voice called out to him, accompanied by the slight creak of the door as it opened a crack.
"Hi Joey. Do you need something?" He didn't mean to sound rude, but he couldn't help it.
"No, but you look like you need some sleep. You don't have to stay in here, you know."
"Keep your voice down," Seto hissed. "I finally got him settled, and I don't want him waking up. He didn't sleep much last night."
"You slept even less than him," Joey pointed out in a whisper. "You need it just as much as he does, and you'll never fall asleep sitting in the chair like that."
"I can't sleep Joey, that's the point. I need to stay awake in case he needs me."
"Oh, wait, hold on a second."
Joey's revelation prompted him to take off, and ten minutes later he reappeared with what appeared to be walkie-talkies. As he moved closer, though, and switched them on, Seto saw that they were baby monitors.
"That should do the trick," he muttered placing one on the nightstand and shoving the other in his back pocket. Since Seto hadn't moved yet, Joey closed the laptop and set it on the floor before taking Seto's hands in his own and pulling him to his feet.
"Are you sure those things still work?" Seto whispered hesitantly, resisting Joey's initial attempt to lead him away. A quick glance over his should showed that Seth sat on the chair he'd vacated, looking mildly amused.
"I'll watch over Mokuba while you sleep. Go, Musuko. Rest." Seth spoke so calmly that it did ease some of Seto's anxiety.
"I just replaced the batteries." Joey pulled harder, making Seto stumble forward and finally yield to his friend's influence.
"Okay, so, you got me out of our room," Seto muttered as he carefully closed the door behind him. "What now?"
"You can sleep on the couch upstairs." Joey led the way, and Seto reluctantly followed. "The couch down here isn't as comfortable."
The house was dark and quiet, as was expected in the hour before midnight. Joey put the baby monitor on the coffee table as Seto sat down, his expression troubled. He was too exhausted to stay awake, but too stubborn to fall asleep.
"You don't plan on sleeping, do you?" Joey asked after a few moments, crossing his arms in disapproval.
"Not… really," the brunette admitted.
"Then I'll stay with you and make sure you do."
Joey plopped onto the couch next to him and tackled him to the cushions. It caught Seto by surprise, and he stiffened at first, but soon followed suit as he felt Joey settle himself more comfortably beside him. Soon, Joey and Seto were lying on their sides, spooning with Joey's back to the cushions and Seto staring at the steady light of the baby monitor's red LED. Joey tucked an arm around Seto's waist and pulled him closer, resting his chin on the top of Seto's head. The brunette hadn't relaxed quite yet.
"You're even skinnier than I thought you were," Joey commented too casually.
"You're one to talk," Seto scoffed, purposefully ignoring the undertones of concern that he sensed in the blond's observation. "You're just as much of a stick as I am." Almost as much of a stick; Seto was strong, but Joey actually worked out, thus building more prominent muscles.
"Yeah, but at least I know that I eat enough." Joey didn't know how to be anything but blunt.
"That's none of your business," Seto growled, bristling at the implications. He tried to roll off the couch. Joey grabbed his shirt and yanked on it so that he was lying on his back. Joey shifted until he was hovering over Seto, his eyes reflecting what little light there was in the darkness.
"Look, I don't know what's going on in your head, and I don't pretend to know. But I do want you to know that you can eat whatever you find in our kitchen. You hardly touch a thing in there, but you can if you want to. That was part of the deal, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember," Seto sighed. Joey was now the second person to comment on his weight. Duke had been the first, and they appeared to be of the same opinion that he was too thin. "Can you get off of me now?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah." The blond blushed as he realized he had one fist and one knee planted on either side of the friend he was reprimanding. "Sorry." He toppled onto his side, and they resumed their former position.
"I don't do it on purpose," Seto said after an awkward silence. He felt the need to explain himself so that Joey didn't get the wrong impression. "Not eat, I mean. I just got used to… not needing much food. It's weird to think that I don't have to do that anymore." Realizing that he hadn't been completely clear, he hurriedly explained, "It's not like I starve myself, or anything like that. I eat twice a day, and that's enough for me. And back when…" He faltered as Joey's hand lazily rubbed his stomach with a light touch. "Back before things changed, I just felt sick all the time. I never really wanted to eat." Seto was the "eat to live" type, while Joey was of the "live to eat" mindset.
"It's okay, I understand." Joey's warm breath tickled his ear. "But you don't have to do that anymore, okay?"
"Okay."
"I can order pizzas for us right now if you want," Joey offered. He could eat pizza anytime.
"I'm fine, thanks. I'm just tired."
They settled back into silence. It was more comfortable this time, but equally brief.
"How does your head feel?" Joey murmured. "Does it still hurt?"
"No, it's fine." Seto'd even started to forget that he'd been injured at all.
"Good." The blond sounded relieved, and his warm breath tickled Seto's ear. "You really scared me that night."
Seto closed his eyes as he remembered his father's violence.
"I got a concussion once back in middle school. I bonked heads with another kid and broke his nose, but I was worse off. I was out of school for five weeks, I was so out of it. I'm glad you're okay, though."
"Five weeks seems like a long time. That must have been quite the concussion."
"He had a hard head. Or maybe I got the concussion when I hit the pavement right afterwards."
That piece of information surprised Seto into a light laugh, making Joey grin. He thought that Seto didn't laugh nearly as much as he should.
"Probably," he conceded, the mundane conversation starting to soothe him.
"How's work?"
"Ugh." Seto rolled his eyes a little before closing them. "We had to translate the code for the holograms into a more compact form, and now I have to go through and fix all of the glitches that occurred during translation, and for whatever reason, all of the Duel Monsters that wear top hats have the same glitch: when they move to attack, their hats stay floating in the air behind them. White Magical Hat is the only exception because he throws the hat to attack, but everything from Crooked Cook to Graceful Dice does the same thing." He sighed heavily. "It feels like someone's screwing with me."
"If it seems like someone's out ta getchya, they probably are." Joey's commentary was casual and light-hearted, hiding his concern at the prospect of someone having a vendetta against his friend.
Seto hummed soft agreement. He was starting to feel more tired, and for moment, he actually forgot that he was trying to stay awake in case Mokuba needed him. He fell asleep without meaning to, his concern still burning in the back of his mind.
He woke up once, when he could hear Mokuba calling his name through the baby monitor's speaker. Seto was still trying to open his eyes and force his mind into motion when he felt the warmth at his back move away, replaced by cooler air. Joey was careful not to disturb Seto as he climbed over him to get off the couch. He turned down the volume on the baby monitor before leaving, and Seto closed his eyes again with a small sigh. Soon, he heard Joey's muted words through the device on the table, and put his mind to rest.
When Seto took Mokuba back to the doctor for a follow-up the next week, the worst of his illness had passed, but both brothers knew full well that it would linger for weeks, as it had last year. Certainly, it helped that Mokuba had been removed from the polluted air of their former abode, but damage had been done to his little lungs, and that wouldn't go away overnight. Due to Mokuba's degree of difficulty with breathing, especially caused by occasional coughing fits that sometimes led to wheezing, the doctor prescribed a new medication for him, saying that he wouldn't need it for more than a month, but that it would allow him to continue attending and participating in school normally until the bronchitis passed.
The inhaler was expensive, but Seto had expected as much. Mokuba didn't like it, but Seto firmly impressed upon him the idea that he couldn't lose it or abstain from using it simply because he didn't like it. Mokuba would be responsible with it, but that didn't make things any easier for him.
"Hey, give it back!" Mokuba protested, trying to grab the small medical device from the bully's hand as the other kid held it out of reach and pushed Mokuba away. "I need that!"
"You need it that badly, huh?" the older kid scoffed. "You're such a dork."
"I am not!" Mokuba shouted angrily, still struggling with his adversary for possession of his prescription. The bully's two friends cackled cruelly, getting Mokuba even more worked up.
"Hey, wanna play a game? How about monkey in the middle?" The bullies spread out a little and began tossing the inhaler to each other, Mokuba scampering in the space between as he desperately tried to catch it. They were all taller than him, though, and his arms just weren't long enough. He kept up the effort for a couple minutes, then gave up when he felt his chest constrict. Panting and irked, he stood in the middle of the triangle and waited for them to give up. They didn't stop tossing the inhaler between them until they were approached by someone they knew only as "the deaf girl."
Amane'd been searching for Mokuba out of the crowd of kids just released for recess, and when she'd seen him getting picked on by the older students, she marched right over to them and walked right up to them without fear. She stood in front of the one who'd just caught Mokuba's inhaler, crossed her arms, jutting her chin defiantly, and glared at him.
"What do you want?" He tossed the inhaler from hand to hand, raising a dubious eyebrow at the little girl.
Amane held his gaze steadily, then calmly held out one hand, palm facing upwards, and waited.
"Meh, this is boring. We've got better stuff to do, right guys?" His pals voiced their assent, and he dropped the inhaler into Amane's hand before leading his friends away. Amane quickly gave Mokuba his inhaler, her friend relieved and pleased by her intervention.
"Thanks, Amane. You're the best." They hugged tightly for just a moment, then broke apart so that Mokuba could use it. Amane wasn't particularly bold or brave, but if Mokuba needed her, then she could find it in herself to stand up to someone she'd never want to interact with otherwise. Love could make people do crazy things.
Seto did make his deadline at work, and the newer design for the Duel Disk was shipped out to manufacturers for mass production. It would be in stores nationwide by the end of the month and in stores internationally by December, just in time for the holidays.
The Duel Disk would receive tremendous promotion through the Battle City Tournament that Noah was arranging. He planned on announcing it next week, but invitations had already been sent out to some duelists of international repute so that they could be drawn in to participate as well.
As Noah Kaiba gazed down at his city from the window of his top-floor office in KC HQ, he smugly contemplated the media storm that would promote his company and boost sales revenue. He was filthy rich and getting richer, but he wasn't happy with that. Thanks to the street rat who'd stolen his title as champion, he'd been comatose for months—long enough for KaibaCorp stocks to plummet, for his girlfriend to leave him, and for his top level employees, often referred to as the Big Five, to become all too comfortable doing his job. To say that he was bitter would be an understatement.
As Noah stood in front of the window, he lifted one hand and cupped it over his left eye, hissing a little at the sting resulting from touching the inflamed skin around it. Surely his eye was infected, but he couldn't see a doctor about it. He was far too paranoid to confide in anyone whose trust could be bought unless he was certain that he was the only one buying their trust. For now, he'd treat the painful infection himself and hang the consequences. His hair had continued to grow while he was comatose, giving him bangs long enough to hide his left eye so that none could see how it'd been altered.
That was important to him, since he'd be making public announcements to the city quite soon regarding the tournament. He was the face of the company, and he couldn't let on just how much he'd changed.