They argued.

Perhaps it wasn't unusual for siblings to do so, but for the Kaibas it was a rare occurrence. Seto was always so sure, so certain with his decisions, that the younger Mokuba had never doubted his brother's words. He may have had his own opinions, or his own thoughts on the matter, but once Seto gave the final word, Mokuba would do little to stop him.

Nii-sama always knows best, he would tell himself. And it had been true, at the time.

The changes that came with age were subtle and not entirely unexpected, but it was unwelcome all the same. Their lives had settled – had settled as much as it could when you were a young millionaire with influence over an entire city. Mokuba went to school, went to parties, ate pizzas and messed around in discos and worried over homework. Seto had graduated, and spent his time conducting board meetings, expanding his company and maintaining his tremendous wealth so that KaibaCorp's profit was always rising.

Mokuba didn't know when the change had come about, only that one day, it had suddenly occurred to him that Nii-sama was the one changing the world.

He'd tried to push the nagging idea away, but it always came back at the worst of times. It tickled him in the back of his mind when he sat in the park sipping at his soda; it whispered and dance when he was joking with his friends; it taunted him when he sat in class sneaking glances at that pretty girl opposite…

But one day he saw that the world did not think of him so much as 'Mokuba Kaiba', rather than 'Seto Kaiba's little brother'.

He tried. Lord knows how hard he tried to impress his brother. He'd seen the way Seto worked into the night, and he'd tried to do the same. Filing away paperwork, struggling to make sense of the miniscule letters and numbers that jumped around the paper and made his eyes water. Just the thought, that maybe, just maybe, Seto would praise him, that his Nii-sama would smile at him, just like he used to…

"If history can still be changed…!" He remembered the desperation in his voice as, through the window, Seto's smile faded for the last time. "If only I can alter the past… Then I would still be able to see Nii-sama's smile…!"

Did Seto understand? There was anguish in his brother's face when he uttered those words, and Mokuba had looked at him imploringly as his hand rested upon the door handle, willing the older boy to realise, to want the same thing. Nii-sama… Nii-sama was…

He had fallen asleep in class that day, and when Seto picked him up from the school – one of the rare days when he was free – there was something dark in his Nii-sama's expression when Mokuba handed him, shame-faced, a bare score of 73%.

"Where did you lose the marks?" Seto's voice was coldly efficient, sharpened by years of negotiations and forcibly suppressed emotions. Mokuba recognised the tone as his nii-sama's 'business voice', and it made his heart churn – this wasn't the voice Seto was supposed to use. Not to him.

"I forgot radiation didn't involve particles," he muttered, staring resignedly at the world passing by the car window. "And I hadn't revised evaporation properly. I wasn't sure how to explain everything. You know."

Seto said nothing, but the way his eyes were narrowed in the rear view mirror spoke volumes of his displeasure.

Mokuba felt the sudden need to defend himself. "Physics was never my best subject anyway," he tried, folding his arms. "It's not like I want to be a physicist or anything. Besides, I think 73%'s actually quite good, considering I hadn't really revised –"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted it, for Seto's hands suddenly tightened upon the wheel and his brother's ice blue gaze pierced through him from the mirror.

"Why didn't you revise before the exam?" His tone was curt, short. Displeasure bordering upon anger. Disappointment. "What were you doing?"

Mokuba bit his lip. "I wasn't…!" He swallowed. "I wasn't doing anything bad. I was… I was trying to do some work for you! I was trying to help! I-I'm the vice-president of KaibaCorp, aren't I? I should be doing something, shouldn't I?"

There was a brief pause before Seto spoke again. "Mokuba," his voice was rough, reluctant. "You shouldn't have done that." It was as though he was still rebuking him, which, in a sense, he was. "You're still fifteen. Your only job is to study. Until you're eighteen, you can leave KaibaCorp to me."

"But Seto…" Mokuba shook his head, unruly, wild hair cascading from his shoulders and covering his eyes. "I thought… I just wanted…"

… To make you proud.

But he couldn't say that, and Seto didn't ask, so in the end, they drove home in silence.

"N-Nii-sama, I-I swear… I didn't…!"

He had never feared Seto before. Never ever. Seto was his nii-sama, the one who would stand by him and protect him when there was no one else by his side. Seto was his hero. He had never feared Seto before.

Never feared him as much as he did now.

Nii-sama's eyes were cold. Like ice, like daggers. His gaze stabbed through Mokuba repeatedly, drawing blood and pain and blood and pain… He whimpered, involuntarily, and stumbled back in his haste. Nii-sama pressed forward, then, all too suddenly, reached out and grabbed him by the collar.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Seto's voice was low. Dark. Furious. "You were the only one who could leak all my plans to Gozaburo. You wanted to ruin everything, didn't you? And after all I'd done…!"

"N-No… Nii-sama, I never…!" He tried to protest. Tried to tell Seto that he was his nii-sama, and that he loved him, and that he would never, ever betray him. But Seto's hand was tight around his neck, and he couldn't breathe… Couldn't… Breathe…

"You betrayed me," said Seto.

The tears spilt down then, and though Mokuba could no longer speak he wept and wished his eyes could tell his brother everything. Surely this was all just a sick joke. Seto wouldn't... wouldn't think this of him. It was all just a mistake. A misunderstanding. That had to be it. After all, Seto lov-

The blow came out of nowhere, and by time he realised that Seto had struck him, he was sprawled on the carpet, body trembling and rasping for pure, sweet air.

"Take this traitor out of my sight," ordered Seto. And then the door slammed shut.

Somewhere along the painful process of growing up, Mokuba realised he had lost his smile too.

It was because Seto was no longer the warm, reassuring presence he had been in his childhood. No longer the big brother whose photo he kept around his neck; his gentle blue eyes the only thing that kept him hoping, kept him alive during those dark days locked in Pegasus' cell.

No; far from his saviour, suddenly Seto had become his captor, his shadow looming far over Mokuba's figure wherever he went.

"Nii-sama, I'm going out to a friend's."

Seto, who had been reclining upon the sofa with his laptop balanced upon his lap, looked up as his younger brother poked his head from around the door.

"What time are you coming back?" He asked, his attention already drifting back towards his screen.

"I'm sleeping over. I'll be back in the morning. Roland's gonna pick me up."

"What time is it now?" Seto pressed, pausing from his typing momentarily.

Mokuba glanced down at his wrist. "Six."

"What time will you be at your friend's?"

The younger Kaiba grimaced. "Half six? Probably depends on the traffic."

Seto looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then, finally, he stated: "Text me when you're there."

Mokuba nodded, then frowned, catching himself. "You know, Seto," he said, carefully. Cautiously. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

His elder brother, who had evidently not expected anything more than a soft agreement, looked up at him.

"What did you say?" There was no anger in his voice – not yet, anyway – just blank surprise.

"I said… I'm not a little kid anymore," Mokuba mumbled, testily. "I just… I mean, it doesn't really matter whether I text you or not, 'cuz I can look after myself now, you know."

Seto regarded him, his mouth sealed determinedly shut. He didn't seem to know how he should respond.

An uncomfortable silence dragged over them. Mokuba had read somewhere that when a silence goes on longer than 4 seconds, it could be classified as 'awkward'.

It was 4 seconds now. Still Seto said nothing, yet his blue eyes were fixed suddenly upon his younger brother in a way they hadn't for, Mokuba realised, a long while.

He felt inexplicably angry.

"I'm going, nii-sama." He muttered, reaching to close the door.

"Mokuba." Unexpectedly, Seto's broke through before Mokuba could seal away the entrance, and, even though he wanted so desperately to slam that door shut, he didn't.

Nii-sama stared at him, oddly at a loss for words. "I don't…"

Mokuba didn't know what it was that his brother wanted to say, but he didn't want to hear it either. "I'll see you, nii-sama," he said, instead, and made to shut the door again.

This time, Seto didn't stop him.

"What's this?"

It wasn't often that they saw each other, nowadays. Not with Gozaburo forcing his nii-sama to study so hard and he being all cooped up in his room. Mokuba always felt a bright thrill of delight every time he saw Seto released from another session of books. Even though, recently, there was something off with his nii-sama. Something different in his movements. Something pained and tired and strangely off-balance. Sometimes, he wanted to ask.

But Seto did not act any different. He still nodded to him when they saw each other, and his eyes were warm even if his mouth could no longer turn into that smile Mokuba had longed to see. He still ruffled his hair fondly, and, even if he didn't speak much, Mokuba was happy to supply the conversation.

So he didn't ask. Because as long as Seto as Seto, it didn't matter.

Today, he thrust a picture into his nii-sama's hands, and beamed eagerly. He'd been working on it all day.

Seto peered down at the picture, brows furrowing. He turned the picture the other way, and regarded it at a different angle. Then he put on a polite face and said: "That's very nice, Mokuba. What is it?"

Thankfully, Mokuba was too young to notice the confusion in the other's eyes, and grinned excitedly. "It's a dragon." He whispered mysteriously. "The Blue Eyes White Dragon!"

"Ah," said Seto, and looked at the picture more carefully. Then, Mokuba saw it. The smallest sliver of his nii-sama's old smile, lurking in the corners of his lips. His heart tripped over itself in its excitement to sing out its tune. He saw the old light return to Seto's eyes: a brimming of warmth; of hope and sudden life, and when Seto turned to him, it was as though nothing had changed.

"Thank you, Mokuba." He said, simply, and ruffled his hair. Would he have said something else? Should he have said something? Neither knew, for at that moment, the old butler Hobson poked his head out from the study and Seto was called hastily away once more. But for Mokuba, standing alone once more in the corridor, it was enough.

Happy Birthday, nii-sama…

"So, Seto! Remember what day it's gonna be, one month from now?"

Mokuba rarely bounced. He'd stopped 'bouncing' since he'd deemed the action too childish for his age, but today he did, grinning excitedly at his older brother at the table.

Seto, who was reclining upon a chair and regarding a widespread of newspaper with contempt, glanced up briefly. "Hmm?"

Mokuba was still hopeful. With barely concealed glee, he pulled out a chair with a noisy scrape and threw himself down upon it. "C'mon, nii-sama," he urged the other on, nodding quickly at a maid who brought forth his eggs. "Think!"

His nii-sama shot him a vaguely exasperated look. "I have absolutely no idea." He didn't seem to be in the mood for games.

Mokuba folded his arms in disappointment. "You're not even trying, nii-sama. Just try and remember. In exactly one month from today, on October 25th… It's…?"

Seto sighed heavily, setting his papers down on to the table. "Meeting with the board committee from the department of art and designs." He recited, flatly.

Mokuba's face fell. "Oh. So you're not free then?"

His nii-sama had already hidden his face behind the newspapers already, even if his mind was busy working out his schedule. "… No." He said, eventually. "Why, Mokuba? Do you have plans?"

"… Not anymore." Mokuba sighed, stabbing at his eggs in defeat. "Seriously. I didn't think you'd plan one month in advance. And I thought I'd get ahead this year too…"

Seto put down his papers once more and finally granted his younger brother with more attention, even if it was an incredulous one. "What?"

Mokuba looked away. "Your birthday, nii-sama." He murmured, softly. "I wanted to surprise you. Last year, I asked you a week before, and you just couldn't find the time. I thought… This year…" He bowed his head.

Seto's posture had stiffened at his words. Evidently, he'd forgotten. "Mokuba…" His voice was tight, awkward.

"You know what," declared Mokuba with resignation when it became clear Seto was unable to follow up with a sentence. "Never mind. I give up. You're never going to be free. You've probably got next year planned too. I don't know why I bother." He stabbed with sudden ferocity into his egg, until the yolk was running off around the side of the plate.

Seto said nothing. Determined to have the last say, Mokuba threw him a bitter glare. "Happy early birthday, nii-sama." He suggested, the words choking and catching in his throat. His eyes were suddenly blurry.

"Mokuba." Seto's voice was harder now, but still, he didn't seem capable of an actual, coherent sentence. Instead, Mokuba heard a scrunching, and when he looked up, the newspaper in his nii-sama's hands was in tatters and he was glaring in frustration at the fridge on the far side, knuckles white and bare.

Well. Now he'd pissed Seto off too, though the knowledge didn't make Mokuba feel any more inclined to forgive him. Surely it was he who had the more right to be angry? Seto's birthday was the one chance he could do something for his nii-sama. To make him happy, to see even that sliver of a smile, like he had glimpsed the day the Blue Eyes White Dragon had been born…

"Eat up," said Seto, harshly. "You need to go to school."

Mokuba thought they were spending far too much time in stony silence.

"… You see him for what he truly is now, don't you?" Noah's voice was saccharine and almost enticing. He looked like nii-sama, all sharp-eyed and coolly confident. "You see the way he's used you for his own twisted purposes… Manipulated the trust you had in him for his own end, against my, our father…"

Mokuba had watched the replays of his life like a dream, and now that the film of memories had ended – memories that were too vivid, too real – he felt frozen. He couldn't speak.

Noah crept closer to him, and placed an arm around him. "Yes, Mokuba. Listen to me. Leave Seto far, far behind. All that pain… All that manipulation… It hurts, doesn't it?"

He was rocking them both now, eyes closed, humming quietly to himself. Or to Mokuba. Mokuba wasn't sure, except he was rocking with the older boy, numb with shock.

"Yes, yes…" Noah hissed, his tune rising in a burst of frenzied fire. "It hurts, Mokuba. Betrayal hurts, doesn't it? I understand your pain. The agony in your heart, let it out. Let it curdle…"

Somewhere in the haze of his confused mind, Mokuba wanted to struggle against the other's words. But somehow he didn't. Just let himself submit to the humming, to the rocking, to the whispered poison enticing in his ears.

"We are the ones who are hurt. Don't you feel the pain? The desire for revenge? Strike back, yes… Strike back against Seto Kaiba…"

That name. Even under the throes of confusion, Mokuba felt himself stir under the name. "N-nii-sama." The word came sluggish and drunken, but he forced it out from a heavy tongue. Blue eyes. Brown hair. He tried to cling to that image.

But Noah's face filled his vision and soon he could see nothing except the older boy, smiling so sweetly, so warmly, at him, in a way that Seto never, ever would again. "Do you know the full extent of your own control, Mokuba?" he was whispering, holding him tightly. "Do you understand what you can do to Seto Kaiba, if you only wanted…?"

"I-If I wanted…" Mokuba found himself mumbling.

"Yes…" Noah urged him, arms tightening imperceptibly around Mokuba's shoulders. "You can destroy him, Mokuba! Destroy him completely… Seto will do anything you tell him to, do you understand? He depends on you to survive. Do you understand that?"

This was news to Mokuba. "Nii-sama…?" He mumbled, confused.

"Don't you see?" Noah cried, releasing the younger boy in order to throw his arms open in a gesture of grandeur. "Imagine a world where you don't exist, boy. Do you honestly think Seto would take all the abuse my father gave him? No, of course not. He is too proud for that." Here, he laughed, a high, deranged sound that made Mokuba shiver, even if he no longer felt in control of his body. "He would have ended it himself! The end! Goodbye!"

"Nii-sama…"

"That's right," declared Noah, with triumph. "I'll tell you the secret, then, shall I? If you ever, ever want to use it." His voice was dropping now, lower, tenser. The silence that suddenly fell around them seemed to scream. Noah bent closer to Mokuba's ear, and whispered.

"… You are his most precious item, Mokuba. Once you know how to use this knowledge… the world will be yours."

Nii-sama is like glass.

He is strong until you know what to throw at him.

Why?

Mokuba wanted to know.

Over the past few years, they'd been through so much, and only been through them because of each other. Through gods and death, through the end of time and universe, through all odds and obstacles, against all sorts of opponents. Endless, hopeless journeys to seek the other, to fight for the single most important person in their life. He'd seen the full extent of nii-sama's love, wider, deeper, than he could even begin to comprehend, and every time he remembered the shield that was Nii-sama hovering over him, remembered his own, heart-wrenching scream at his brother's limp, soulless body… The tears would come, and he would wonder why.

They were at peace now. KaibaCorp was running smoothly and no one had to worry about the end of the world anymore. He and Seto were together again, just as it all should be. And yet…

Why was there so much tension? Why did the silence sit, thicker than ever, suffocating his mind?

Nii-sama was more distant than ever before. He kept himself in his office and it was Roland who would pick Mokuba up from school. Sometimes, Seto ate in his office. Sometimes, they wouldn't see each other at all.

And when they did set eyes upon each other, there was only anger and friction.

Sometimes, Mokuba would remember what Noah had told him. And when Seto is standing over him, cold-eyed, furious, over another disobedience, he wants to scream.

"You don't care about me at all, do you? You think I'm a hindrance, a nuisance, don't you? You're just too afraid to let me go, because in reality I'm the one that you depend on, isn't that right, Seto? I'm the one who's been keeping you together all these years! As long as I'm with you, it doesn't matter what I feel, does it? Because no matter what I'm feeling, as long as I'm with you, and you can carry on living, you don't care about me! That's not fair, Seto. Let me tell you something – as long as you're happy, I won't be!"

Too many times do the words come teetering on the edge of his tongue, ready to spill out at a moment's notice. It's the killing blow, and it rolls, bitter, in his chest. The ultimate weapon. The truth.

But then he looks into Seto's face, as he had done so many times before, and he can't bring himself to do it. His brother is already trembling minutely. His hands are clenched by his side and, like a Jenga tower, he is tilting. All it would take is one final push. But Mokuba couldn't do it. Because it was still his Nii-sama. His most precious Nii-sama.

So he would swallow his fury. Swallow the shrieks of his pride and try and remember what it had been like to look at Seto as his saviour. Remember Seto in his most vulnerable moments, his soul, more delicate than anyone could ever imagine it to be, exposed to the world like a frightened child that never wanted to emerge.

And he would breathe slowly, and walk away. Hands shaking. Because he had been so close. So close to throwing that final pebble.

But if the glass breaks, he knows, then it will never be the same again.

It was a piece of art, and Noah was right. Mokuba could almost appreciate the twisted beauty of it, even with his arm outstretched, crying, crying, though his grey, stone face would not allow it.

His heart felt as though it were burning. His scream, unable to complete itself, rose high and silent in the sky. He wanted, he needed to be in his brother's arms. To be secure. To hold Seto tight and to tell himself, tell them both that they were OK, because they had each other, and that was all they needed.

But he couldn't.

Their hands were so close. There couldn't have been more than an inch of distance between them. If he leaned forward just slightly, they would have been touching, and even that would have sufficed. But his body was no longer his, and the cold, hard rock in the shape of his brother could only watch him with dull eyes blank of emotion.

Instinctively he knew his brother was screaming just as he was. He'd seen his eyes just seconds before the life had been taken out of them - blue orbs that had been so relieved and yet so anguished. Nii-sama had hated himself, Mokuba knew it. He'd hated himself for allowing Mokuba to fall in danger and he hadn't quite known if he'd deserved to see his younger brother return to him yet.

Nii-sama! Nii-sama!

He wanted to tell him that it wasn't anyone's fault. He wanted to run into Seto's arms and hold him and keep him together and protect him from himself just as Seto would protect him against anything else. He wanted to tell his nii-sama 'thank you'. He wanted to say 'I love you'. He wanted to say so much more. He wanted his nii-sama to know that he adored him in his entirety; that he was his one and only nii-sama, and that no one else would do.

But as it was, they could only reach helplessly out to each other. Reaching helplessly for a brother made of stone.

The mansion was dark when Roland brought him back from school, so naturally, Mokuba did not assume anyone would be home.

Their house, so grand, so large – too large – often felt too empty for the two of them. It was Mokuba who had chosen it, and Seto had bought it without question. Without complaint. There were whole rooms designed to simulate a fantastic, other-worldly environment. There was a table football set. A home cinema. An indoor pool. A gym. A duel system. Everything. But it was rarely touched. Rarely used. After the initial excitement, it would lie forgotten in the corner of their mansion – just another, meaningless toy.

They were all evidence of his Nii-sama's helpless love.

Mokuba stood outside the front door, and sighed. Roland had opened it for him, but peering into the dark hallway, he didn't really want to go in.

Today was October 25th. Seto's birthday, and his brother wouldn't even be there.

"Young master Kaiba?" prompted Roland, respectfully holding the door.

Mokuba gave a non-committal grunt as a response and headed inside. Roland switched on the lights for him, and then politely excused himself. Evidently, he had sensed Mokuba's mood and the other was grateful to be given his privacy.

He dropped his schoolbag in the living room, and then headed over to the kitchen to check on today's evening meal. The chef was not there. Somewhat disgruntled, he turned into the dining room instead. It was dark. The curtains were drawn and the room, far too large for two people, seemed to swallow up any light thrown into it.

He peered into it, even if he didn't expect anyone to be sitting in the dark. But something still prompted him to switch on the lights, just to make sure. And then he froze. Because there was something, someone, there. And they shouldn't be. Not normally.

Seto Kaiba.

Nii-sama was slumped upon the table, his face buried in folded arms. For a moment, Mokuba feared the worst. His heart turned to ice and his mouth fell open in what was almost the beginning of a scream. What had happened? Why was...? His mind blurred and blanked in a horrible grey of panic and he was coated in sweat before he was even aware of what was going on. In a flash, he was by his nii-sama's side.

Then he realised that there was no need for his alarm. Seto was merely sleeping, and as he neared he could see the calm rise and fall of his brother's chest as he lay against the table. Mokuba couldn't guess how long he'd been there. There were papers scattered around him, and a pen had fallen on the floor when the limp hand of its sleeping owner could no longer hold on to it. He must have been working before the need to rest overtook him. It wasn't surprising; it was the norm now for Nii-sama to work long into the night, even if the effects of it were taxing upon his body. Even when his doctor warned him against it. Seto was tireless. Sometimes, Mokuba feared he would burn himself out.

So he was reluctant to disturb him in his rare moment of tranquillity and, holding his breath, as though even the smallest shift in the air would wake him, he turned, and made to switch off the lights.

But Seto, who could be woken even by the flap of a butterfly's wings, had already opened his eyes, and he sat up. His hair was ruffled, his eyes were still hazy with dreams, but his voice, though roughened with sleep, remained clear and strong.

"Mokuba," he said. Softly.

Mokuba stopped. He turned and shifted a little guiltily under his brother's gaze.

"N-Nii-sama," he mumbled. "Hi. Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I didn't know you were here."

Seto merely shook his head, running a hand deftly through his hair and straightened his back. Muscles and joints clicked with his movement and he breathed a sigh as he relaxed. "I've been waiting for you." He said, voice neutral enough so that Mokuba couldn't quite read his intentions.

The younger Kaiba frowned at him. "I thought you had a meeting to go to, today." He protested, almost unable to believe himself.

Seto ran another hand through his hair. He looked better, Mokuba thought, after a proper rest. In a better mood too, evidently, because he smirked. "I cancelled it." He explained, casually. He leant down to pick up his pen. "It wasn't important. The art and design department can draw whatever they want."

Unable to help himself, Mokuba allowed a startled laugh to escape him. "So you're… you're free?" He gasped, still unable to comprehend.

Nii-sama looked at him, and he wasn't harsh, wasn't cold, wasn't distant. He was just Seto. Just Nii-sama. And Mokuba thought he could see that smile again. The smile that had plagued him for so longer.

Seto said: "Yes."

After that, there was some confusion as to what they were actually going to do. All at once the options were open and Mokuba couldn't for the life of him decide how to treat his brother. There was only one night. One night left for just the two of them before the extent of Seto's influences, and his own sense of duty, failed him and it was with reluctance that his Nii-sama had admitted there was no way he could find some more spare time until at least the next fortnight. But Mokuba hadn't minded that. What mattered was what they should now. Together. Just the two of them.

He'd considered going to see a film, but there didn't seem to be any that caught Seto's interest. He'd also thought about calling Yugi and his friends, but remembering Nii-sama's contempt for them, decided that that would not be the best way to ease his mood. Seto had then suggested that the two of them stay at home, but that hadn't appealed to Mokuba either. He wanted to spend time with Seto somewhere outside of home. Somewhere they could have fun.

And then an idea struck him.

"Let's go to KaibaLand, nii-sama!"

The words came bursting out into a silence that had been stretching for quite a while, and Seto's brows rose in surprise. "What?"

"Let's go to KaibaLand!" Mokuba repeated, and jumped to his feet. There was a sudden determination in his voice. "We've never been, properly, have we, Seto? Let's give it a go ourselves. See what it's like!"

"Mokuba…" Seto sounded exasperated, if a little amused. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm far too old for theme parks." But he still took his coat when Mokuba threw one at him.

"Sure you're not. We're both going, anyway, and I'm definitely not too old for theme parks." Here, the younger Kaiba grinned. "Put on your sunglasses, Seto! Wear something different, not your trench coat, or people'll know who you are. We'll just blend in. Have some fun!" The words were sounding better and better as he spoke, his heart thumping erratically in his chest. "You've never been to a theme park before, nii-sama. I want you to try it. Especially when it's your park." He paused, and tried to look into his brother's eyes. "I want you to see your own dream come true, nii-sama."

Seto looked stunned. Then he looked down, his hands gripping tight around his coat. Then suddenly he was on his feet and moving forward and his arms were around Mokuba. Pressing him against his chest, his head resting upon his shoulder. Mokuba could feel the thin trembles running through his brother's frame, and he knew the ice was melting.

And what it revealed was a Nii-sama who wasn't as strong, wasn't as fearless, but an ordinary man like he was. Not a saviour, nor a captor, but himself, and himself purely. In Mokuba's arms he felt more real than he had ever been for the last fifteen years of his life. And even if he had to stoop slightly to reach him, Mokuba realised, for the first time, that he was actually catching up.

"Thank you, Mokuba," said Seto eventually. And it was as close to sentimentality as he could get.

But he didn't need to, because Mokuba already knew.

Initially, there'd been some worry as to their identities been exposed. Mokuba had been less concerned with himself than Seto, for he was an iconic figure who could hardly be mistaken when he walked on the streets. First to go was the trench coat, and it was with some reluctance that Seto was forced into a mere hoodie and jeans. The sunglasses went on after a sulk. Sometimes, his nii-sama could be remarkably childish for a grown man.

"How do you expect me to see in the dark with sunglasses on?" Seto had protested, when Mokuba had proudly led his now very bland looking older brother out into the car. "Don't be ridiculous, Mokuba. I can't wear that."

But Mokuba was determined. He didn't want any fans or journalists to ruin their evening. "It's fine, nii-sama," he'd reassured the other, tugging insistently on his hand. "Just trust me. Come on."

Seto complained. But the mutters were under his breath and with a significantly lighter amount of sarcasm than he would have submitted himself with normally. Without another protest, he allowed Mokuba to lead him into the car, and they were away. Just the two of them.

"Don't you have homework tonight?" Seto had pressed, after a short while's silence.

Mokuba shrugged. "No. And even if I did, I'd much rather make sure you have a good birthday, nii-sama."

Their house wasn't far from the theme park. Just a ten minute drive later, and they were left standing outside the gates of the place they'd both dreamed of since they were children.

Mokuba continued to hold on to Seto's hand, and he didn't miss the breath his older brother released at the sight before him.

He felt an almost delirious leap in his heart. Seto had never been given the chance, the freedom, to enjoy theme parks like the other children. Mokuba, at least, had been free to run around with his friends, but Nii-sama, who was lonelier than he would ever admit, had to remain in his office and submerse himself in the work that would perhaps, one day, drown him.

Mokuba wanted Seto to enjoy his freedom. The freedom he had never been given the chance to taste. Even if it was just for this evening.

They paid their fare, and stepped into the world of their dreams.

In the night, KaibaLand was a whirlwind of flashing lights and laughter. Bright, dancing colours illuminated everything the theme park had to offer. Rollercoasters fashioned in the shape of dragons twisted and rolled in the air as though they were about to take flight. A ferris wheel turned serenely under the moonlight. But more than that, it was the happiness, the atmosphere around them, that Mokuba really wanted Seto to see.

And the children. They dominated the park. Children of all ages running around in a huddle of friends, laughing and joking with each other. Mokuba held on to Seto's arm, and hoped that he could see what he did. The joy lit upon people's faces. Smiles covered in candy floss, grins through mouthfuls of chocolate.

"Nii-sama," he whispered. "You made this possible."

Seto said nothing. He had removed his sunglasses, and was looking about him as though he were a blind man witnessing the world for the first time. The colours danced across his face. In the night, his eyes, so clear, like windows, seemed almost like a child's.

Mokuba wanted the moment to last forever. He held on to Seto's arm and took in the scent of nii-sama.

And it was looking at those very children running around them - all smiling, laughing, joking - that he remembered what it had once been like, between him and Seto. How they had ran and played just as the children before them did not, and it struck him, suddenly, that Nii-sama's smile was everywhere.

With this new realisation he saw everything in a different light: Nii-sama's old smile, kind and warm as the sun - the one he used to wear before he'd yet witnessed the darkness of the world – was lit up upon everyone's faces. He saw Nii-sama's spirit upon all of them, holding them, embracing them, ruffling their hair with a love that he found difficult to show now.

But it was there. And suddenly Mokuba realised:

Nii-sama had exchanged his smile for a million others.

It struck him then that Nii-sama had always spent his life living for others. That, no matter how callous and cold he forced himself to appear, there was a kindness in his heart that could not be quenched, and that it had always been there, even after all the trials their life had put him through.

And he realised then that Seto would never be the man he declared himself to be. Instead, he has been, and always will be, someone better.

His Nii-sama ruffled his hair then. He'd abandoned his sunglasses, after all, but Mokuba didn't care about that anymore, not when their loss allowed him to see Seto's eyes. And they were as precious as jewels, an unblemished sapphire that was more pure than the inky black sky behind him.

"Let's go, Mokuba." He said. And Mokuba saw his smile.

He grinned.

"Yes, Nii-sama!"