Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuugiou
Rating: G for Setoness
Warnings: Setoness, Mokubaness, Kaibaness…errr…angst, I suppose? I dunno
Authors Note: This piece is 550 words, part of a competition I had with a friend. We were trying to see who could write the better 550 word story. My little sister was the judge. That was a really bad idea…
Seto sighed. He was halfway through the stack of papers on his desk, and he was sure there was only more to come if he dared check his email. Not that it bothered him. Of course not. He was Seto Kaiba, and this was his company to run. But still, it was past 11 and he had not yet eaten dinner.
As he put his pen down to sign another paper, he realized it was out of ink. “Great,” he muttered. He became even more annoyed when he realized that he had no other pens in the room, since he did most of his work on his computer. He sighed again and rose to get a pent from his room.
The hallways were dimly lit between the company offices and labs and the living quarters. As Seto waited for the elevator, he wondered vaguely if he had finished his homework. He laughed, musing at how stressed he was. He never worried about his homework anymore; he just got it done in class or at lunch.
He waited in silence until the doors opened, and then stepped inside. Pressing a button on the panel on the wall, Seto then stepped back to stare at his reflection in the cold, steel doors. The soft whirring of the descending elevator made him realize how tired he was. He didn’t give it much thought, though, because the bell chimed and the doors slid open to reveal the Kaiba living quarters.
Seto stared unblinkingly down the hallway as he stepped out of the elevator. He was unaware of the doors closing behind him with a soft click; he had trained himself to focus on his objective. He felt it necessary to ignore all outside distractions; after all, he had a company to run.
He was almost to his room when he happened to turn his head. Maybe it was because a sliver of light caught his eye, or maybe it was brotherly intuition, but that was when he noticed a soft glow coming from Mokuba’s bedroom door.
He stared at the hinged piece of metal, bewildered. Should he enter and find out hat was wrong, or should he let his brother manage his own time? He stood for nearly a minute weighing the situation before reaching out and grasping the handle.
The room was lit only by a small bedside lamp. Mokuba lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. A closed book lay beside him as he gazed at the white paint above him. He only glanced to the doorway when Seto asked, “Mokuba?”
“Oh, hi, Niisama,” he said.
“How long have you been up?” Seto vaguely remembered Mokuba venturing up to his office to say good night about 2 hours ago.
“I couldn’t fall asleep,” Mokuba replied. “Sorry I bothered you.”
Something about the pathetic tone of his voice caught Seto’s attention. It wasn’t something that normally happened, but it gave him a feeling that he didn’t like. He felt guilty.
“I’m sorry, Niisama. I’ll be fine, go back to your work,” Mokuba said. Seto wondered why he would put his brother’s needs above his own. Then, thinking of the work left unfinished in his office, he turned to his brother.
“Mokuba, are you hungry?”
“A little, why?”
“Let’s go get something to eat.”