Epilogue

2/5/10

Disclaimer: I've been to the other side of the world, but I don't know Yu-gi-oh.

Note: Thank you for supporting Foreigner! This was my first completed multi-chapter story, and that probably wouldn't have happened without your words (and favs/alerts). Seriously. This story was originally a one-shot, and I didn't get any kind of responses for over a month. You guys are amazing.

"Mr. Kaiba, we'd like to thank you for your contribution to children's social services. America's children will be thankful. You are truly blessed," a blond woman in her mid-twenties cried fervently. A black shimmering dress adorned her slim body with matching platinum jewelry to accessorize.

"I expect that you put it to good use. It would be a waste if it was found in other pockets." His tone was blunt, causing the woman to stutter before she gathered her composure.

"Well, it's always pleasant to see you." Her lips forced a smile, one that did not enter her light blue eyes. He smirked as she left to speak to a middle-aged businessman. People like her were easy to read. Many of these so-called charitable contributors were hypocrites, using these benefits to gain a mention or photo opportunity in the society pages.

His eyes scanned the room. Elegantly dressed men and women gathered in small groups and conversed. Decorated with red and gold banners, the hall held many round tables, mostly unoccupied, where people would soon sit for the evening meal. A few musicians played soft classical music on a small stage, while several waiters served platters of appetizers and drinks. He glanced at his watch. It was almost six o'clock, and the dinner would be served soon.

Nearby a group of middle-aged men and women laughed to a joke. Overhearing the remnants of the conversation, he found it to be neither tasteful nor particularly humorous. Perhaps, it would better to leave, having fulfilled his major obligation. He had made his appearance, given his donation, and even struck a little conversation, which was more than most should expect. He never enjoyed parties to begin with, and this one was no less monotonous.

Gathering his long coat from an attendant at the coatroom, he placed it over his black tux and headed towards the exit of the beige-painted hallway. At the end of the corridor, a tall janitor was mopping the floor. "Watch it! The floor's wet."

The CEO paid no attention to the uniformed employee as he walked towards the doors. The man's voice was rough, speaking with certain assertiveness that most people dared not attempt with him, but he had no interest in putting the man in his place at the moment.

"Wait, you're..." the man's voice trailed off, as if in shock.

"Congratulations, you've recognized the president of KaibaCorp. Now get out of my way." The man smelled strongly of Clorox cleaner and cigarettes, hardly a pleasant combination.

"No. Not that. You're Seto Nakamura. Laura's son." Seto stopped himself from gasping. No one had spoken his surname or his mother's first name in years, particularly with such familiarity. "It's me. Your Uncle Brian."

Seto observed the Caucasian man, seeing a resemblance to the gruff relative who he once knew. The face no longer held any of its previous youthfulness, set deeply with fine lines and wrinkles. There were several gray strands in his shaggy brown mane, which appeared more unkempt than it used to. His stubble had grown into a full beard, and his muscular physique, although still impressive, was less imposing than before.

"I can't believe how you've grown up. Man, you look a bit like Laura too. I don't know if you remember this, but I used to come to your house a lot when Laura was alive. I taught you how to throw a football, remember?" Brian chuckled nervously with Seto's lack of response. Seto inherited several of Laura's features, but there was a hardened severity to his demeanor that she lacked. "Look, I'm not saying that I was the best uncle or anything, but I'm sorry for not taking you in. I was messed up."

Seto's face was emotionless as he surveyed his uncle's apologetic face. When he last saw this man, his father had been forced into the emergency room. He could never forget the memories of his father's bloodied face, the look of his pulverized body, or the fear he felt when he found his father's body as it was thrust between the broken shoji screen of their house.

"I couldn't take you. Your dad made it that way." Brian's hands tightened his grip on the mop. "In the will he left you to those Japanese cousins of yours. He left them to take care of everything. I can't pretend that I'd be any good at taking care of you, but, hey, maybe it's better that way. Look at you. You're fuckin' Seto Kaiba. I guess you're better off."

Aunt Hiroko dropped his brother and him to the orphanage in Domino City after claiming she couldn't afford to care for them anymore. She extorted everything from his father's account, saying she needed the extra income to care for them. On the day they left, Jun never said good-bye, choosing to lock herself in her room and blare angry pop music on her boom box.

This was his chance to destroy his uncle, to make him feel the pain that his father felt. Seto's fists tightened. The only thing he had left of Seiji Nakamura was his memories. They burned in him as his father's body did when it was cremated. He remembered as his father's casket was placed into the crematorium or as the ashes became buried in the grave, and all he could do was hold Mokuba's hands tightly into his. All he could do was attempt to comfort his sibling and tell him that they needed to move on with their lives. Just as most of his childhood, his father's car accident happened so unexpectedly, leaving his future to be decided by others.

"Can we leave soon? Isono's got the limo ready, and Mrs. Parker's bugging me about this upcoming gala." Seto turned to the source of the boyish voice that came from the other end of the hallway. Mokuba stood confidently in a black tux, his grayish-blue eyes appearing a bit agitated. He walked next to his brother and peered curiously at the taller man opposite his brother. "Seto, who's he?"

"Nobody. Just trash." Seto answered. He turned away from Brian and strode towards double doors, opening them. Mokuba gave a quick apologetic smile before following. Seto Michael Nakamura no longer existed, and the people from his childhood no longer mattered. His parents were a distant memory and held no place in his future.

THE END