It's often believed that Seto loosens up around his brother. But what does that really mean? What does it mean about his general personality? Just how different is he? And does that make the hard-ass he presents to the public eye a façade? Is he some kind of corporate Batman, and only Mokuba knows what Bruce Wayne looks like?

But then, Bruce Wayne is an act. So maybe that doesn't work.

In any case, I think the crux of Seto's relationship with his brother isn't that he changes his personality, or "loosens up," so much as he just…redirects his anger so that it hits elsewhere. He's still angry, and he's still sardonic. The reason it's not that bad for Mokuba is because it's not targeted at him.

This chapter attempts to illuminate what I mean.


"Niisama?"

Seto looked up at his brother but was slow on the proverbial draw; he remained silent just long enough for the black-haired boy to guess that something was, in fact, wrong. Every so often, when his brother was in a foul mood, Mokuba just chalked it up to the sun rising, or people breathing. Sometimes Seto was just plain pissed.

But sometimes, the source of Seto's mood was something more tangible. Something Important. And it was these that always caused Seto the most grief, because while Mokuba didn't often showcase the iron determination of the Kaiba family, he did have it. When the time came for Operation: Make Niisama Smile, Mokuba was as furiously unwavering as…well, a Kaiba.

And if Mokuba knew that there was a source to his scowl today, rather than it just being the neutral expression of his face, he would stop at nothing until the problem was unearthed, handled, and beaten into the dirt.

Seto could already picture his brother's face if he even tried to explain, however. What possible justification could there be to, "I'm starting to respect a man that used to make my soul vomit, and it pisses me the hell off"?

He would get the Mother look. And he just wasn't interested in seeing it today.

"What is it, kiddo?" he asked, wondering if the lightness of his tone would make up for the pause. The frown on Mokuba's face told him that that was highly unlikely. Nonetheless, it seemed to placate him a little.

"Téa's home for a visit," the boy said, rather darkly. "She's stupid."

Seto gave one of his trademark smirks. "She believed the Fairbairn article."

"Of course she did. Why wouldn't she? She's stupid."

"I seem to recall a time not so long ago that you thought her rather nice. She had a nice voice, and a nice smile, and a nice…other things."

Mokuba blushed furiously. "Shut up!"

"The girl is a sheep. I'm not about to argue the point. But you still need to stop making eternal blood oaths to obliterate everyone who calls me a villain. Nurture relationships with those who think me a living saint instead. They're just as delusional, but they might be more pleasant."

"You think this is funny, don't you?"

"On a cosmic level, yes."

Mokuba pouted. For added effect, he crossed his arms and kicked at the carpet. Seto eventually rolled his eyes as he rose to his feet and walked over, ruffling his young sibling's hair and giving him a one-armed hug as he passed into the hallway. "Come on, then. Let's go find something shiny to distract you."

Mokuba snorted derisively, but he followed his brother. He said, "People are calling this the biggest news story of the year. They're saying you polarized the city."

"People are the ones who think I killed Pegasus Crawford and that his subsequent appearances in public, sparse as they've been, are me using Solid Vision to cover it up. People are the ones who say I built you out of spare computer parts. People are the ones who—"

"Okay, okay. I get it. People are dumb." Mokuba heaved a defeated sigh. "…Joey was defending you. He told the real story." Seto flinched violently, stopped walking. "She was crying. He was crying."

Seto straightened a mirror hanging on the wall to his left, then put it back, then straightened it again. He frowned thoughtfully. "Is that right…?" he murmured, clearly uninterested and making no attempt to fake otherwise.

"She was talking about how it would have been a lot better if Yami was still around. The spirit guy. The pharaoh."

"I remember him, Mokuba," Seto said. "The…spirit guy. Of course she would think of that. He was her answer to everything. Heaven forbid we solve our own damned problems when we have a king four-thousand years dead to do it for us. Atemhotep, I need you! I just got home from the store, but I forgot sour cream! How am I supposed to have tacos for dinner if you don't help me?"

Mokuba sputtered with sudden laughter.

"…Sir?"

Seto watched as Clinton Lanyon approached, holding a bottle of glass cleaner and a dishtowel. The man was giving him an odd look, half-expectant. Eventually he seemed to realize that his employer was in no mood to explain the outburst, and walked away.

Seto heard him mutter to himself: "…just got sour cream. I saw it."

Mokuba doubled over, and fell onto the floor.

Seto turned his eyes to the ceiling, and tried to hold back a smile.