Author Note: Hey! Sorry for being a day late. It's taking me a bit to get back into the swing of things. I could have updated yesterday, but it would have been a tiny chapter. I figure I'd just give myself one more day so I could do a full chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 68:

What is Love?

Little Seto stood in the kitchen, glaring up at the top of the fridge. He'd seen his mother hide a package of cookies at the top last night. Currently, he was debating the best way to get at them. Should he ask his father? He'd probably say no. Should he black mail his dad with something? That would probably just get him in time out. Ok, then. The only way to go about it was to help himself then. Seto took the step stool and tried to reach the top, but couldn't. Propping his foot up on the counter, he tried to stand on it but ended up slipping. He let out a yelp as he grabbed onto the fridge door handle. The door swung open and sent him flying across the kitchen floor.

He slid to the other side of the room. As he sat up, he rubbed his head. There was a small lump forming on it. A shadow fell across him. Seto tried to smile innocently as he looked up at his father, who was staring down at him.

His father let out a long, loud sigh. "What were you doing?"

"Um, noooothing." Seto gave him his best innocent smile.

"Time out."

Seto jumped up and glared at him. "Why?"

"You were trying to steal your mother's cookies, weren't you?" He's father's eye twitched as he gave him a hard smile.

"Where's your proof?"

His dad bent over so that they were almost nose to nose. "Time. Out."

Seto pouted but gave up and left the kitchen. He went to his father's recording studio and plopped down into a tiny chair that was facing the corner. He crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath. It didn't take long for his father to return to the studio and to continue working on the song he was writing. Seto hated time out. It was a waste of time. Eventually, his dad turned to him, and Seto was released from his prison.

"So, what did you do wrong?" His father asked him.

"I got caught."

His dad put his head in his hand and let out an annoyed sigh while Seto grinned sheepishly.

"Seto."

"Fine. I tried to take mom's cookies…. Why doesn't she have to share?" Seto grumbled.

His father just shook his head and went back to working on his song. Seto walked over and looked at the computer his father was working on.

"My First Love." Seto read aloud.

"Oh? You've learned to read that much already?" His dad smiled at him and Seto huffed.

"Of course. Why is it a first love? Is the song about your mom and dad?" Seto asked.

His father gave him an awkward grin. "No. This is about romantic love, not familial. I'm writing this song about your mother and I."

"Did you not love your mom and dad?"

"What? Yeah, I did—"

"Then how could it be your first?"

His father sighed again. "You are the most nitpicky six-year-old on the planet."

Seto put his fists on his hips and puffed out his chest. "I'm one of a kind."

His father's eyes went blank for a moment. "Yeah. Yup. Uh, huh."

"If mom wasn't your family at first, how did you know you loved her?" Seto looked up at his father, who blushed at the question.

"I didn't know I loved her at first. It was when we were dating that I figured it out."

"How?"

His father looked thoughtful. "Well, there's kind of a moment when you just realize that you've probably been in love for a while and just didn't know what to call it. I was singing a song to your mother when I figured it out."

"Hmm. That doesn't make sense." Seto frowned at him.

"Love isn't a straightforward emotion. Some people take longer to realize they are in love and some people know they are, but still deny it for a time. It's different for each person."

Seto didn't like that explanation at all. "How would I know if I'm in love with someone?"

"I'm not sure. But you're smart. You'll figure it out."

Seto huffed and looked back at the song. "Hey, dad. What does 'our first time' mean?"

His father got flustered. "How about a cookie?"

He frowned at his father, but he wasn't going to turn down a cookie. His father quickly shut off the computer and took him to the kitchen.

Seto woke up feeling groggy. Crap. He hadn't dreamed of his father in a long time. This is all because of the stupid concert. I wonder if it's too late to back out. This is annoying. Seto rubbed his eyes and recalled that after his father had distracted him with a cookie, his mother had found out and been mad. It looked like they were both going to get in trouble until his father had him ask his question again to his mom this time. She laughed and blushed, then handed over the package of cookies. Seto never got his answer.

He laughed when he remembered it. A sharp pain in his chest made him stop laughing. Damn it. This is a waste of time! Stupid memories. Seto quickly showered, dressed, and went to pick up Ana. On his way there, though, he found himself really craving cookies. He swung by a convenience store and grabbed a package. When Ana came out to see him, she found him munching on them in front of her house.

"Did you not eat breakfast?" Ana raised an eyebrow at the package.

"I forgot. Want one?" He offered her one, and she took it. In truth, he had forgotten because the dream had distracted him. They walked to school and munched on the cookies the whole way there. They finished the small package before they got there.

Class started as normal with home room and preparing for the festival. Seto went to the music room and began practicing. Though, it was more him ordering the band around than practicing.

"Drums, you're off beat again. If you're off beat, then everyone will fall behind." Seto growled at the panicked teen.

"Hey, piss off!" The guitarist with spiky black hair glared at him. "We're doing our best. And you haven't even sung with us yet. Was that time in the classroom just a fluke?"

Seto glared at him. "I'll sing with you when you stop hitting the wrong cord in the middle of every song and throwing the bass off."

The teen flushed and pulled his guitar off. "That's it. I'm done with your shit. I'm leaving."

Seto shrugged. "Go for it. I didn't even want to do this in the first place. You idiots are the ones who asked me to."

The bass guitarist was a quiet girl with long green hair. She sighed and looked over that the guitarist. "Mikato-san. He's right. You do keep throwing me off in the middle of the songs."

"Wh-what?" Mikato looked at her, appalled.

Arata walked in to check on them. "Hey, how's practice going? I didn't hear any playing?"

"This is bullshit!" Mikato shouted.

Arata paused at this outburst. "What is?"

Mikato pointed a finger at Seto. "This prick. Who elected him leader of this band? Why do we have to listen to him?"

Arata looked at him blankly, then smiled, annoyed. He turned to the drummer, a young teen boy with black curly hair and black eyes. "Ginta-san, do you feel the same?"

The drummer slowly nodded his head. Arata turned to the girl next. "Erika-chan, how about you?"

Erika paused and looked thoughtful, before answering, "No. The whole class voted for this concert, and we all asked Kaiba-san to sing for it. Plus, his directions, while said in a harsh tone, aren't incorrect. All the comments help the band improve."

Arata nodded. He looked back at the guys and gave them an annoyed smile. "Yeah, we did ask him to sing for it. And since you all started practicing with Seto-kun's giving you directions, you've improved a lot. So, there's two things that can happen. You can suck it up since you all agreed to do it. Or you can quit and piss off the entire class who's been working hard to make this concert a success. You're choice."

Mikato's face turned red, but he put his guitar back on. Wait, when did Arata start calling me by my first name? Why the hell have I not told him to piss off?

Arata turned to Seto. "Anyway, how's finding that new song coming along?"

Seto frowned. He'd looked through a bunch of songs, but he couldn't find one that fit the criteria of a love song, but not a love song. At least not one he was willing to sing.

"He's turned down all our suggestions." Mikato grumbled.

Seto rolled his eyes. "All the ones you've picked are extremely cheesy and very obviously love songs."

"Why are you so against singing a love song?" Mikato snapped. "Don't you love Sakurai-san?"

Seto paused at the question and shook his head. "What the heck are you talking about?"

The room grew silent. Even Arata looked concerned.

"Seto-kun, do you not love Sakurai-san?" Arata asked and frowned.

"No," Seto said bluntly and felt a sting in his chest. "I like her. I never said anything about loving her."

They looked at him like he'd said something awful.

"What?" Seto seemed annoyed, but they didn't have time to respond as Umiko, Sanae, and Ana came into the room.

Umiko held up a tape measure and a couple of half finished costumes. "Are you all ready for your fittings?"

Mikato looked at Ana and blurted out. "Kaiba-san says he doesn't love you!"

The room grew painfully silent, and Seto let out an annoyed sigh.

Ana blinked a few times, then shrugged. "OK? I mean, I don't love him either."

It felt like ice was growing on the walls. A stabbing in Seto's chest hit him so suddenly that he was surprised. What? Why?

"What? Why?" Arata asked, just as surprised as the rest.

Ana's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, why? I like him a lot or I wouldn't be dating him. I certainly haven't been going out with him long enough to decide if I love him. So, it doesn't surprise me that he doesn't feel that way. Now, can we get back to the measurements and stop butting into my personal life?"

Umiko quickly went to take the measurements before anyone could say anything else. After they finished, they went back to practicing, but Seto was distracted. Love? What is love? How do you know when you love someone? Love, love, OH! There was a song he knew that would fit. It wasn't a song that had been published. His father used to sing it to him before bed. He could remember the words and melody. He'd just need to rerecord it. Great. That means I'm going to have to think more about the past. What a waste of time.