Things always change up when the Kaibas are a team. That's when you have to worry about safety and whatnot, not only if you're the enemy they're teaming up to fight, but also if you're on the sidelines. Because these boys are chaos gremlins, and you never know what kind of collateral damage is going to result from their shenanigans.
… That said, I'm pretty sure this story has proven that the person Seto's most likely to injure in said shenanigans is himself.
.
"What do you think?"
Seto had his right arm secured to his side by a sling now, and every so often he would look at it like it had personally insulted his fashion sense. "I think this is ridiculous," he said, "and I fully intend to be insufferable about it."
Mokuba rolled his eyes. "I meant about the other me."
Seto grunted. "I think he's hurt. I think he's lost. I think he can't decide what to do about it."
"He keeps ping-ponging," Mokuba said. "It's like, one moment he wants to trust us. The next, he's all closed off and snarky."
"I think," Seto murmured, "that whatever place he's from, he's had fewer reasons to trust than you have. Maybe even than I have. I recognize him. He's more like me than Sotaro, I think. He's half-feral. He doesn't know what to do, how to act, when he isn't faced with an adversary. So, when placed in a situation where he can't find one, he makes one."
"Sotaro and his parents are with Yugi," Mokuba said, almost certainly because he'd just remembered that Seto didn't know. "They have a plan. Trying to get something new worked out to help us deal with . . . with him." He paused. "Was it . . . was it really Daimon?"
"If it wasn't," Seto said, "it was close enough for me."
Mokuba frowned. "Roland says you almost killed him."
"I meant to," Seto growled. "I'm extending an olive branch to the boy. Not him. That old bastard is lucky I'm not at my best. I fully intended for him to choke on his own blood."
"Are you gonna turn him over? To the detective, I mean."
"No." Seto shook his head. "I don't intend for Darren to be involved in any of this."
"He knows." Mokuba smiled when his brother gave him a sharp look. "He talked to Roland. I guess the department isn't letting him touch this case. The investigation out at HQ and all. I guess he's too close to it. Since you guys know each other. So, he took time off to look into things himself."
Seto groaned, then rolled his eyes. "This is some kind of message to me. He's forcing me to examine my own bullshit, is what he's doing. If I tell him he should be spending his vacation time with his family, what do you think he's going to tell me? I can already tell that you know."
Mokuba's smile broadened. He certainly did.
Then he said, seriously: "What are you going to do about Daimon, then?"
"I'm leaving that to Roland," Seto said, leaning back in his bed. He stared up at the ceiling. "I can't be trusted with him. I won't maintain my composure." Mokuba stepped over and put a hand on his brother's good arm. "This is a fucking circus. If not for sheer experience, my brain would have given out by now. Just . . . checked out, left my body. Leaked out my ears."
"It's no weirder than anything else we've dealt with," Mokuba said softly. "Just more personal."
"Hngh."
"You're right, though. About what you said before. That man would never have sent other people to handle killing somebody for him. He definitely wouldn't have sent me."
Seto shook his head. "Absolutely not," he said. "Not least because I don't think he even remembered your name half the time. I'm surprised he never gave you a birthday card or something, calling you the other one."
Mokuba laughed. "I might have liked him more if he had."
Seto paused. Stared up at the ceiling. "What . . . what was the name the boy gave us, again? His alias."
"Masahiko."
"Right, right. Masahiko." Seto watched the shadows dance over his head, then shut his eyes against them. "You did it right, Mokuba. You did it just right. Made all the right calls. You shouldn't have had to do it, but you did." He turned and regarded his brother solemnly. "I'm . . . so proud of you."
Mokuba smiled. "Thanks, Niisama."
Seto reached over with his good hand and ruffled the young Kaiba's hair. "Don't let it get to your head, though. You still have to do your homework when you go back to school."
"Psh," Mokuba said, waving a dismissive hand. "What's the point? I already have a job."
"Don't go pretending it's one you like," Seto said. "You don't want to work at Kaiba-Corp any more than I do. I don't think either of us is going to be in charge there forever. I have no intention of it, at least. I'm retiring as early as I can afford to. And you are going through high school at least. That's that on that. I already deal with enough bullshit when the subject of how I raise you comes up. I don't need anyone talking about how I let you drop out."
"That's not the real reason."
"No." Seto sighed. "It isn't. Maybe it's because I want you to have a normal childhood. As normal as we can get in this city, at least. Maybe it's because I had to suffer through that nonsense, so it's only fair. Maybe I keep hoping that you'll have a better time of it, or at least an easier time. Maybe I want the worst problems in your life to be tests, or projects, or research papers. Maybe if I force the issue long enough, it'll be true."
Mokuba patted Seto's leg. "Who knows," he said. "I sure as hell don't."
"So," Seto said, and the sharpness of his tone took Mokuba by surprise. "What is this plan of Yugi's? Where's he taken them? I don't think I trust any of this."
"I don't think I do either," Mokuba said. "But if it does work, we're gonna have a much easier time stomping that man into the dirt." He smirked. "Again."
"That's it, huh? That's all you have to say on the matter."
"Trust me on this one, big guy," Mokuba said. "It'll be better if you just wait 'til they get back."
Seto sighed. "Fine."
". . . It's weird," Mokuba said, looking off through a far window. "That man had a lot of shit going on in his brain, but I never really thought he had an ego problem." He shrugged at Seto's incredulous look. "I mean, not like this one. This one thinks he's too good for grunt work. He wants his minions to do everything for him, so he can take all the credit without actually doing anything."
"Hm. I guess you're right about that."
"He sounds like a lot of the older guys you deal with at work, honestly. And that's really kind of sad." Mokuba sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Like. If I met that man again, I'd kick him in the junk. Don't get me wrong. But at least he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. He didn't hoist everything off on other people."
"Well," Seto said, "ego problem or not, he scored one point on me."
Mokuba shook his head. "No, he didn't. Some faceless mook got one up on you."
Seto blinked. "That's . . . so comforting, kiddo. Thanks. You always know how to make me feel better."
"I know." Mokuba patted Seto's leg again. "You got waylaid by a nobody."
"Thank you."
". . . Hey. Um. Niisama?"
"Mm."
"Don't get shot again. Okay?"
Seto let out a breath, closed his eyes again, and let out a little chuckle that was almost honest.
"Yeah," he said. "You got it."
