Repentance

By: ACE329

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over YGO…that supreme honor belongs to Kazuki Takahashi!

Summary: Assuming someone's devotion is always dangerous. After taking advantage of his younger brother's loyalty for so long, Kaiba finally pushes Mokuba too far. Now their seemingly-unbreakable relationship is quite possibly beyond repair.

A/N: To those of you who read the first part, I don't expect you to read the second, since it's been well over a year since I'm putting up this final segment of the story. I never had the chance to rewrite it as I intended, but seeing as I don't really write fanfiction anymore, I figured I at least owed it to the few of you who wanted to hear the end to know what the conclusion was, faulty or not. There was just so much material, I couldn't possibly stand to let it fall into the recycle bin of my computer, completely unread. So, I hope you enjoy the conclusion to the story that should have been finished over a year ago…

Part Two

It had been five years.

Where did the time go? Kaiba found himself always being assaulted by time—how often had he glanced at his watch only to be shocked at how much later it was than expected? The days held no meaning, it was all just one stretch of time, a long lucid dream, maybe. And now, because of his carelessness—his cruel but helpless indifference—that the only meaningful relationship in his life had slipped away, like glitter dust seeping through outstretched fingers.

Five years and three months had passed until Kaiba ran into his younger brother again—literally. The CEO was barreling down a sidewalk littered with tiny gourmet pastry shops doomed for foreclosure and pretentious boutiques when he had crashed into another body. Kaiba's head, as usual, was bowed down as he scrolled through his smart phone; he was always transfixed on the tiny device, as if life's problems could be solved through such impersonal means. The collision, therefore, invoked a wave of irritation by the time Kaiba caught his balance.

The CEO's eyes snapped up. "Who the hell do you—" His words died in his mouth as abruptly as an extinguished flame. Only the wisp of smoke remained, a distant memory of his anger.

"Mokuba."

A mirage, it had to be. Or maybe a dream. Kaiba had been plagued in his sleep by hopeful scenes that would play out in his subconscious that would often involve the belated reunion between the two brothers. Kaiba would only admit it silently, but too many times he had dreamt of embracing his younger brother, apologizing, and everything would have been all right. Mokuba, in Kaiba's dreams, was not all that changed really, actually quite the same. Mokuba was still a kid, still needing an older brother to look up to, to admire. The sentimentality was nauseating.

A long, pale face returned Kaiba's gaze. The sharp lines of his jaw and prominent cheekbones were about as harsh as his solid grey eyes.

"How's it going, Brother?" Casual. He had said it so casually, as if they hadn't been out of touch for years. The only betrayal of his bland (deep…) tone was the slight edge to the word "brother."

Kaiba scrambled to find the right words to say. In the end, there weren't any. What could one possibly say to a sibling after parting ways for five years? He drew in a breath. Composure.

After a strained silence, Kaiba finally settled with, "That's what you have to say to me, after all this time, after you choose to run away?" No. The words came out all wrong. They were too cold. And why wasn't he experiencing the happiness or relief he had envisioned so many times before? In its place was the foreign feeling of insecurity, maybe hurt. Damn it.

Mokuba stared hard into Kaiba's face with what appeared to be curiosity, until it soured to agitation after Kaiba's question.

"There were a lot of days I wondered if I made the right decision, leaving you," Mokuba said. "But never did I forget why."

So. Kaiba wasn't impenetrable after all. Those words hurt. It had been a while since Kaiba experienced a freezing pain from someone's words. Of course, that was because no one got to him the way his younger brother did.

Kaiba would have tried to come up with a witty retort as he usually did, but nothing was coming to mind. It was almost as if he was a member of an audience, cringing as he viewed this man named Seto Kaiba, the infamous icon who became a billionaire when only sixteen years old, make a complete fool of himself. In actuality, he was no longer a teenager but a young adult, who suddenly felt thirty years older.

"Are you getting by all right?" Kaiba asked awkwardly. He scowled, uncomfortable with how everything he had said to Mokuba so far had been coming out all wrong.

Mokuba snorted. It was a critical, incredulous sound. "Tell me. Do I really look so awful?"

Briefly appraising his brother, no, he didn't. Like any teenager, Mokuba sported a casual look, comprising of dark jeans and a t-shirt, which was layered with a navy jacket. He had Vans on, an unlikely find at a thrift store, though who knew? They could have been stolen. Kaiba couldn't help but notice an ear piecing, barely evident beneath Mokuba's wild mass of hair. It was tamed with a ponytail, which Kaiba figured must have been the trend for kids his age.

But he wasn't a kid. No, replacing the image Kaiba clung to for years was this older, foreign version of Mokuba, an individual who, though wearing styles Kaiba would never approve of in a million years, appeared perfectly stable without his older brother's assistance.

Kaiba forced himself to speak. "Where is it that you're living now?" What he really wanted to know was, "Who are you living with?" and "How are you able to afford a home?" though he did not want to sound too concerned. He could not risk scaring Mokuba away. Not this time.

Mokuba was quick to catch on to Kaiba's unspoken questions. He smiled wryly, slowly folding his arms. "I don't think you really want to know the answers to what you're asking."

"I'll be the judge of that," Kaiba replied frigidly. Immediately he regretted his tone. He had been used to shaping his voice to sound like daggers for so long, the only time he needed to be less abrasive he found he was not able to. He looked away.

"Fine." Kaiba could feel Mokuba's eyes searing into him. That way, when Mokuba spoke again, Kaiba could feel every word hammering into his skull.

"Jounouchi." No. "I've been living with him."

Impossible. Kaiba must not have heard correctly. He felt the ground shift beneath him. "What did you say?" The wave of shock that crashed over him wiped away his composure in the process; there was a slight tremor to his voice.

"I know you heard me," Mokuba said, a bit gentler now. Maybe he felt slightly sorry for Kaiba. "He got his own place shortly before I moved out—"

Kaiba held up a hand. "Stop." He could feel his temples throbbing. A migraine was coming, like a violent storm. "You did this to spite me."

"Ha, no." Kaiba suspected any sympathy Mokuba might have felt for him had dissipated by now. "I came to him because he was the only one I could think of who knows what it's like to not have a family."

Kaiba felt like he had been slapped in the face. "I am your family, Mokuba. You're the one who chose to run away."

Mokuba took a step closer, his jaw muscles clenching from what looked to be carefully controlled anger. "His father's a drunk. His mother hates him. All he has is his sister, and he can only see her when his mother agrees to it." His eyes flashed. "And my family? It consisted of you, though you wouldn't know it, based on how you treated me and how you would place your precious company over me any day."

"That isn't true," Kaiba said, with a shake of his head. It was a weak response, and both of them knew it. Since he could not think of a convincing defense, he took another route. "It was stupid of you to leave. You gave up a quality of life most people die working to attain. I'm sure the path you chose is a regrettable one, and any misery you experience is well-deserved." He rushed into his proposal before Mokuba could open up his mouth to speak. "I'm offering you a second chance to come back home, Mokuba. Consider it. No one wants to live with scum like Jounouchi, and hopefully you've realized that after doing so for who knows how long. Here's your chance for a better life, now I'd advise that you take it." Catching his breath from his long-winded offer, he inwardly applauded himself for not sounding pathetic.

Truth be told, he missed Mokuba terribly, and it took him approximately a week after Mokuba left to realize he had made a mistake in letting his brother go. Without anybody to come home to or talk to, Kaiba found that life in his mansion was meaningless. All the rooms lining the halls were painfully vacant, cold. More than anything, he wanted Mokuba to come back, to breathe life back into his mansion and make Kaiba feel like he wasn't wasting his life on work. As long as Mokuba was there, Kaiba could convince himself he poured all his time into work for his brother.

The teenager's unaffected expression, however, indicated he was not moved by Kaiba's words. "A couple things," Mokuba began. He looked mildly annoyed. "One: no, it was not stupid of me to leave. I could not care less about what 'quality' of life I'm living because that's not what is important to me. My happiness is not defined by the size of my house, though I'm sure that's where we would disagree."

Mokuba held up a second finger. "Two: I think you should know that in fact, I am not miserable. Are you itching to know why? Because the people in my life look at me as a human being, not a tool for a certain someone to feel better about himself, and they actually talk to me as an equal. People like Jounouchi and yes, my friends at a public school, encourage me to do what I want. I don't have to play by anyone's rules but my own. So no, Brother, I am not miserable. I'm actually quite happy."

A tired smile formed on Mokuba's face, making him look years beyond his actual age. "I guess this is also where we would disagree." Kaiba was still having trouble processing how much his brother had changed. From his physical appearance to his personality, was he even the same person anymore?

Kaiba's thoughts were brought to a halt as Mokuba held up a third finger. "Finally, three: Jounouchi is not scum. He has shown me things that have always been foreign to you. I've learned what compassion, selflessness, and generosity really is. He makes everything seem so easy and uncomplicated. He let me move into his home without even asking for compensation or an explanation while you would have turned away even a relative without a second thought." Mokuba drew in a deep breath, emotion coloring his words for the first time as he stared hard into Kaiba's eyes. "So don't you dare try to condemn my life when you have no idea what it's like."

An electric silence filled the space between the two brothers. All Kaiba could do was stand there, overcome by shock, horror, and yes, despair. Within such a short amount of time, Mokuba had grown up without him, had morphed into a young man with morals, ideals, and opinions not shaped by his older brother. Kaiba could see that now, just from listening to Mokuba's heated response. Unlike before, Mokuba did not need Kaiba's approval to feel validated.

Looking into Kaiba's face, Mokuba lifted his eyebrows. "What, nothing to say for once? Could it be that maybe I said something that made sense?" Kaiba was about to respond when Mokuba cut him off. "Well, I hope that settles everything. You have your life, and I have mine. There are no hard feelings between us, but just so we're clear, I'd rather we continue going our separate ways. It was unexpected, but nice, to see you." After the slightest hesitation, Mokuba clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. They were almost the same height, Kaiba mentally noted. He also couldn't help but think how impersonal the gesture seemed, given their previous closeness. But for the first time, Kaiba felt frozen and numb, as if his mind went on strike and refused to give him the thoughts necessary to communicate to Mokuba how much he needed him back. Now, after running into his brother after so long, the reunion was about to come to a bitter end, and the two brothers would perhaps never see one another again. The difference, Kaiba painfully realized, was that he cared whether or not he would come into contact with his brother in the future. Mokuba, however, did not. Anyone could see that, based on the way Mokuba turned from him without a trace of reluctance and began to walk away with his hands shoved in his pockets. As if their parting were as insignificant as walking away from a street vendor after deciding not to buy the fruit resting solitarily in the cart. The fruit was perhaps too bruised, too damaged to be salvageable.

Much to Kaiba's chagrin, he could hear the words Jounouchi said to him, years ago, ringing in his mind like a curse: "One day you're gonna wake up and realize that there isn't a single soul on this planet who gives a shit about you. Not even your kid brother." Kaiba gritted his teeth. He hated Jounouchi, true, but he hated even more the fact the mutt's words were becoming a reality. No, they were a reality. Mokuba was the only person who had a significant relationship with Kaiba and now Kaiba realized that tie had been severed. Not today, but the day Kaiba let Mokuba walk out the door. Years later, was it too late to reconcile their relationship?

It was this thought that finally broke Kaiba out of his shock-induced paralysis. "Meet me later," he blurted out. Though Mokuba's back was turned, Kaiba saw him stop. Screw his pride, he had to sacrifice it if he even wanted a chance to fix his mistake. After not seeing Mokuba for five years, he couldn't just let him walk away after a meager two-minute encounter. For all Kaiba knew, he might never see him again. He raised his voice, ignoring the curious expressions of passersby. "At Caffè Cova. 7:00 tonight. We can talk more." Please. One more shot.

In asking for this second chance to redeem himself, Kaiba thrust himself into a place of uncertainty. He placed all his hope into one request, and it was up to Mokuba's mercy whether or not this hope would be crushed.

A tense pause stretched out following Kaiba's words. Every half-second suddenly swelled in importance, every half-second carried the potential to relieve the surmounting pressure within Kaiba.

Give me another chance.

Kaiba saw Mokuba turn slightly, evaluating him with what appeared to be an indifferent expression. As if looking at a stranger.

Then, when Kaiba began to believe his request would be denied, Mokuba shrugged.

"Fine."

It shocked Kaiba just as much as the first time when Mokuba appeared in front of him for the second time that day. Or rather, across from him. The brothers were seated in a booth residing in a discreet corner where not many people sat to enjoy their coffee. The café was perfect for their reencounter, Kaiba decided, because it wasn't packed with so many people that their conversation would be drowned out, yet it wasn't so unpopular that their conversation would likely be overheard. Plus, it wasn't too fancy, which Kaiba knew Mokuba would be pleased with. The elitist five-star restaurants that Kaiba was so fond of, conversely, repulsed his younger brother. Mokuba always said they were made for rich snobs who believed their lives were vastly superior to those who lived by less grandiose means. Reflecting on this, Kaiba inwardly admitted that Mokuba wasn't too far off the mark.

"Let me get you something," Kaiba suggested as he stood up, prompted by the edgy silence that followed immediately after their initial (awkward…) greeting.

"I'm not hungry," Mokuba plainly replied. Rather than stare at Kaiba, he kept his eyes on a sugar packet he had been toying with. Kaiba suspected that Mokuba had a hard time believing he agreed to meet up with him. Well, the feeling was mutual.

"It wasn't a question," Kaiba said, turning away before Mokuba could protest. Besides, he needed time to collect his thoughts, to gather his composure.

Kaiba returned a few minutes later, balancing two lattes in one hand and two scones in the other. Carefully, as if throwing bait into a lion's cage, Kaiba placed Mokuba's share in front of him.

It wasn't until Kaiba sat back down that Mokuba looked up, seemingly just noticing that his brother came back. "Thanks."

In reply, Kaiba said, "I want to know what you've been doing these past five years."

Mokuba snorted as he drew his drink closer to him. "So. You want me to spill everything, and then when I finish, you want to make a pitch for me to come back with you. How living with you will be so much better than how I'm living now. Isn't that right?"

Despite his inner turmoil, Kaiba felt a smile forming. "You would be right. So now that you know my grand plan, would you mind indulging me?"

Mokuba raked a hand through his thick, messy bangs. He sighed. "Where do you want me to start?"

That was surprisingly easy. Kaiba realized he hadn't put much thought into what he would ask his brother, now that they were sitting face-to-face. All he was concerned with at the time was simply getting to see Mokuba again. And getting him to come back home. So he settled with the most obvious choice: "Start from the day you left home. Where did you go, what did you do?"

"It's not my home anymore," the teen mumbled under his breath. At least, that's what Kaiba thought he had said. He chose to keep his mouth shut though, letting Mokuba continue. "The second I stepped outside, it's like it finally occurred to me that it was nighttime. Not many places would be open and most people would be sleeping. So that narrowed my options considerably. In the end, I did the most reasonable thing."

Kaiba shot Mokuba a questioning glance as the teen allowed a small smirk to form. "I slept on a park bench that night."

It was like a dagger had been shoved right between Kaiba's ribcage as all the air had been sucked from him. It took every ounce of control for Kaiba to resist blurting out an angry, "What?" The younger brother of a billionaire, sleeping on a public bench as if he were homeless?

Mokuba, however, easily read the look of outrage on Kaiba's face. "I figured you'd react that way. Weird, right? Who would have thought a spoiled rich brat like myself had it in me to sleep with the drunks and crazies?"

"You mean into the awaiting arms of potential kidnappers," Kaiba ground out. "Or even worse, pedophiles. Is that how you came to live with Jounouchi?"

A ripple of laughter was Mokuba's reply. He covered his mouth, shaking his head. "You really don't mean that." He bit his lip, trying desperately to compose himself. "I can't believe you're serious."

Kaiba glared. "I am. Why else would you agree to live with him for so long? There's probably something you haven't told me because, based on what you've said so far, it just doesn't make sense."

All traces of humor vanished from Mokuba's face. "Yeah, you're right Seto. There is something I haven't told you yet. Actually, a lot of things. You know why? Because I haven't seen you in five years."

"It was your decision to leave, not mine," Kaiba growled.

"I only ran away because you left me no choice," Mokuba retorted.

An angry quiet immediately followed their exchange. This was getting nowhere. Kaiba looked away, shoving away his need to prove how right he was. "So what happened after that night?"

After a second's hesitation, Mokuba readjusted himself. He tore into his scone, relishing in Kaiba's wince as he spoke with his mouth full. "If you listen, I'll tell you."

One of the things Mokuba had always taken for granted was a house. Or rather, a mansion. It was always just there all his life, and so some things never occurred to him, such as how early the sun really rises or how many people were up by this time. Mokuba came to realize these things upon waking up at 5:30 (as he found out by hastily checking his watch), with the sunlight splashing across his face and the jarring drone of car engines as they whizzed by a short distance away.

Groaning, Mokuba closed his eyes, wondering if he could squeeze in more sleep with the rising noise as the world woke up. It was the weekend, so he wouldn't have to go to school today, but then again, would he really go given his condition? He didn't even have his uniform, and he was not going back to the mansion just to pick it up. Plus, he probably needed a shower. Mokuba inwardly smiled, as it occurred to him that technically, no one could order him whether to take a shower or not. Kaiba would no longer be there to boss him around.

Inexplicably, any pleasure Mokuba might have felt shriveled away at the thought, replaced by tears that stung beneath his eyelids. Could this really be permanent? Would he never see Kaiba again? A part of him still couldn't grasp the reality behind his actions; it seemed too surreal.

Mokuba planned on keeping his eyes shut until the tears were under control, but through closed lids he could sense a darkening of light, as if the sun went away. He opened his eyes.

Hovering over him was Jounouchi, who looked down at him curiously with a hand clutching a water bottle and the other resting on his hip. Their eyes met, and Mokuba immediately jolted up.

He scrambled for something to say. "I-I was just walking through the park because I was bored—"

"Were you sleeping on a park bench?" Jounouchi inquired as if he hadn't heard a word Mokuba sputtered out.

"I…" Mokuba faltered. Should he really tell Jounouchi the truth? Kaiba warned him to never trust "scum" like Jounouchi. Plus, it would be a long story, one that Jounouchi most likely didn't want to hear. If he did, it was probably to gleefully report the news to his friends.

Jounouchi's expression softened a little. "Hey little man, if you don't want to tell me, it's cool. I was just finishing up my run and saw you here. I figured something must be wrong if your big brother's letting you wander off like this at such an odd hour. Does he know you're here?"

Maybe it was the mentioning of Kaiba that caused Mokuba to start crying. Or maybe it was the fact Jounouchi just assumed Kaiba would care. Mokuba's whole body began to shake uncontrollably, as if an earthquake was taking place inside of him. He bowed his head, letting the tears drip off his nose and onto his lap. He was glad he had so much hair so it could shield his face. Kaiba always told him that crying was—no. It didn't matter what he said anymore.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mokuba could see Jounouchi uncomfortably shift positions, as if internally debating something, before he chose to sit next to the grieving boy. Somewhat awkwardly, Jounouchi placed a hand on Mokuba's arm.

"What is it?" Jounouchi asked firmly. "Is Kaiba—I mean your brother—dead?"

Mokuba wildly shook his head. "No. No, I—"Before he could call back his words, Mokuba found himself gushing out the truth; the need to share his pain was as powerful as built-up water, surging past a broken dam.

"I left," Mokuba said hoarsely, hiccupping back his tears, "I had to." Before Jounouchi could open up his mouth, Mokuba cut him off. "No, he didn't kick me out. I couldn't—I couldn't take it anymore…"

If Mokuba had to take a guess, he would have predicted Jounouchi would look smug at this revelation. Yet Mokuba was wrong, Jounouchi appeared troubled instead. His brows were pinched together as he stared intently at Mokuba's face with a sincere gaze, with lips pressed into a solemn grimace.

"That bad, huh?" Jounouchi murmured. "You think you're eventually gonna come back home? It'll probably get better, right?"

Mokuba lowered his head to rest it in his hands. His palms were cool against his warm forehead. As he sat there, with Jounouchi waiting for a response, he realized the horrific permanence of his situation. Before, there was still a faint glimmer of doubt within him, tempting him to turn back and apologize to his brother. But the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to. He no longer wanted his life to be defined according to what his brother dictated. Above all, he wanted to prove to himself that there was more to life than simply following in someone's footsteps. Was he truly capable of walking his own path, on his own two feet?

"It's not my home anymore, Jounouchi," Mokuba said miserably. His tears had stopped by now, fatigue taking its place. He lifted his head to look at the blond. "No matter what, I can't go back to Seto. I don't know what I'm going to do."

Jounouchi sat back, probably absorbing the information, Mokuba figured. An unhurried quiet settled between them, one trying to take in what he had heard, while the other struggled to compose himself. Despite the time, the sun seemed to be in full force now, beating on their shoulders and faces. Mokuba wiped away a bead of sweat that trailed down the side of his temple. He distantly wondered what Jounouchi would do after their conversation. Would he continue with his run, stashing this unpleasant encounter to the back of his mind? How involved did he plan on becoming? Mokuba clenched his fists, feeling guilty for dragging Jounouchi into this. He probably shouldn't have said anything in the first place.

"Man, I thought I'd never see the day the Kaiba brothers separated," Jounouchi finally said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You sure this is what you want?"

"This is what has to happen," Mokuba replied, with a resolve that surprised him. He silently noted how easy it was to decipher what Jounouchi was thinking. His brown eyes were open and expressive, revealing every thought that passed through his mind. Now, Mokuba could see that Jounouchi was—for the second time during their conversation—having an inward debate.

"Listen," Jounouchi said after a pause, "things were getting pretty rough at my apartment—my old man and I never really got along—so just last week I got a place of my own, you know? It's kind of small, it's only got one floor, but it's a house. There's running water, and all the appliances as far as I'm aware seem to work, and the neighborhood isn't too bad…"

Mokuba stared at him.

Jounouchi shifted spots. "What I'm asking is, um, I was thinking maybe if you wanted to you could live with me for a while. You know, until you find a place of your own or things work out."

Did Mokuba really hear that correctly? Was Jounouchi actually offering him a place to stay? Mokuba, a Kaiba brother? He was speechless.

After a pause, Jounouchi quickly backpedaled. "I know it's not what you're used to, obviously, I mean there's not even air conditioning, but it's just that you're still just a kid, Mokuba, and I'd hate to see you out without a place to—"

Cutting him off, Mokuba gave Jounouchi a hug out of heartfelt gratitude. If he closed his eyes, Jounouchi felt exactly as Kaiba did; strong and stable.

"Thank you, Jounouchi, thank you so much," Mokuba said. He felt tears threatening to fall. He was crying way too much lately. "I don't know what I would have done without you. I'll get a job as soon as I can find one, and I'll make sure I don't make a mess, and—"

"Hey," Jounouchi said. He gently removed Mokuba's arms, smiling kindly. "Let's not worry about that right now." The blond straightened up, stretching his arms before he held out a hand to Mokuba. "Come on, I'll take you out for ice cream. I don't care it's morning, it looks like you need it."

Mokuba took his hand.

"You told me you came to Jounouchi for a place to stay, not the other way around," Kaiba cut in, the moment Mokuba paused to take a sip of his drink.

The teen's grey eyes swiveled up to meet his. "Of course I did. Do you honestly believe you would have handled the truth rationally? Anytime someone says 'Jounouchi,' you freak out and assume the worst. If I had told you Jounouchi offered me a place to stay, you would have translated that as, 'low-class pedophile abducts child and pressures him to stay away from older brother.' There is no way you would have taken the truth at face value. And, if I had simply told you Jounouchi asked me to live with him without the story behind it, you would have thought he asked me to spite you."

"Well he did," Kaiba replied, his tone edging on incredulity. "Clearly. Why would he help you out?"

"Because he's a good person, and that's what good people do," Mokuba said, straining to keep his voice level. "It had nothing to do with you."

"Can't you see he took you away from me on purpose?" Damn it, the hurt in his tone was too evident to be ignored. He sounded so pathetic.

Mokuba trained his eyes on his brother, watching him closely. "No," he said quietly, "you drove me away on your own."

"Mokuba…"

"You wanted me to tell you everything, remember?" Mokuba interjected. His eyes still bore into Kaiba, unwavering. "Keep listening."

"You mean to tell me that you're transferring out of Azabu Junior High to enroll here?" The secretary looked incredulous as she peered over her glasses.

"Circumstances are different now," Mokuba answered carefully. He had mastered the art of euphemism during his orphanage years. He could feel Jounouchi's eyes on him, probably glinting with amusement.

A crease etched into the secretary's brow. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry."

Mokuba tried a smile. "Don't be. I'd rather go to a public school anyway, to be honest."

The secretary looked like she didn't buy into that statement.

"Really," Mokuba said earnestly, "I don't like how competitive it gets at Azabu."

"You are nothing like your brother," Mokuba heard Jounouchi murmur from behind him with a dubious laugh.

"Well, first I will need your transcript and then for you to fill out this transfer application," the secretary instructed, sliding a blank form towards Mokuba.

Mokuba held up a hand quickly. "Oh, no need for that—I already have both. I got the transfer application online and just printed it out…" Fumbling around in his backpack, Mokuba retrieved the necessary papers and handed them to the secretary, who lifted her eyebrows.

"I will also need your parent or guardian's signature in order to validate this transfer," she said.

A heavy weight settled over Mokuba. He had foolishly forgotten he needed Kaiba's signature in order to make any important decisions, such as this one. And what about when he will become old enough to obtain his driver's permit? Didn't he need Kaiba's signature for that as well? His older brother was the closest it came to being a parent, yet Mokuba knew he wouldn't be seeing him anytime soon, if ever. He swallowed back a lump in his throat.

Before the pause lasted too long, Jounouchi stepped forward. "That's um…that's why I'm here."

For the first time during the conversation, the secretary glanced over at Jounouchi. She frowned slightly. "Aren't you his brother?"

Mokuba coughed uncomfortably as he shifted his weight. It almost seemed like an absurd question, inquiring about their familial relationship. They looked nothing alike. And yet, hadn't Jounouchi acted exactly as a brother should? He was there for Mokuba when he needed him the most. The same could not have been said for Kaiba.

Mokuba snapped out of his thoughts when Jounouchi spoke up. "No, ma'am. Actually…I'm his guardian."

Both Mokuba and the secretary shot the blond surprised looks. Mokuba was about to shout, "Since when?!" but immediately silenced himself, remembering the secretary's presence. It would not have made a convincing argument if even he expressed shock at the news. Maybe Jounouchi was lying?

Clearing her throat, the secretary straightened her posture. "Oh, well then you can just sign here and everything will be set." She looked pointedly at Mokuba. "You will start class this upcoming Monday. We will be mailing you your class schedule shortly."

Slightly dazed, Mokuba nodded as he watched Jounouchi hunch over the desk to sign the document. Jounouchi his guardian? It was a weird thought. Never in his lifetime did he imagine someone other than Kaiba carrying out the role of his guardian. Someone who cared enough to make sure his needs were met. And yet, by some unlikely encounter, Jounouchi came along and sacrificed everything just for an over-privileged brat who happened to be the younger brother of his nemesis.

"I contacted a probate clerk to make the, uh, arrangements so you wouldn't have to rely on your older brother anymore," Jounouchi hastily explained to Mokuba as he resolutely clicked the pen. He slid the documents back over to the secretary, who accepted them with a nod.

Jounouchi smiled down at Mokuba, ruffling his hair. "That okay with you, kiddo?"

Mokuba returned the grin, playfully punching Jounouchi in the side. He couldn't have been more pleased.

"He did what?" Kaiba demanded, fighting back the urge to stand up out of fury. He almost knocked over his drink as he flung out his arm accusingly. "That dog, that thieving bastard, he had the gall to worm his way into your life and become your guardian?"

Mokuba calmly finished off his scone. "That's right." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I know you won't believe me like before, but I'll say it again: Jounouchi did not become my guardian with the intention of pissing you off." He paused thoughtfully. "Though I'm sure he considered that as one of the perks."

"In other words, I am at least somewhat right. He was trying to spite me," Kaiba replied heatedly.

Now Mokuba was the one who looked angry. "No, I was kidding. Get it through that thick skull of yours that he did not have you in mind when he signed on to become my guardian. I needed an authority figure to do all the paperwork since I'm not legally an adult."

Kaiba's shoulders deflated slightly. "It doesn't make sense. Why wasn't I informed?"

Mokuba shrugged. "Jounouchi told me your secretary took care of all the paperwork. You must have signed the necessary documents at some point, though I wouldn't be surprised if you were too busy to pay attention to what it was you were signing."

"You're wrong. There is no way I would make such an erroneous mistake," Kaiba said firmly.

"I forgot how unwilling you are to accept when you've screwed up," Mokuba nonchalantly remarked. "Oh how I've missed that."

"Cut the sarcasm," Kaiba snapped. "I would never sign you over to Jounouchi in a million years. Obviously there was some blackmailing or shady business taking place behind the scenes. I wouldn't doubt he's in a gang and made some threats to get what he wanted."

"Your paranoia is out of control," Mokuba said at length.

"Paranoia? Is that what you call it? I'm being pragmatic here, Mokuba, and you need to see that," Kaiba said lowly, taking a hurried glance around to ensure no one had been eavesdropping. "Now in the five years you have been living with him, what has he done to you?"

Mokuba's jaw dropped. "Done to me?" he repeated. He shook his head. "Okay, that's it. I'm done. I can't do this anymore." He began to scoot out of the booth.

Panic seized Kaiba's insides. "Hold on. You're being ridiculous."

Mokuba glared at him. "Ridiculous? No. When someone attacks a person I care about, of course I'm not going to take it well. I know this kills you, but he has taken your place. And he's done spectacularly, more than you could ever be as my older brother." Kaiba couldn't be sure, but he thought Mokuba was shaking. His voice was quieter now. "I wish it didn't have to be this way, but it is. I wanted you more than anyone to be there for me, but time after time you let me down."

All the seething emotions—the anger, the jealousy, the hatred—wilted within Kaiba. In its place was regret. The hostility towards Jounouchi no longer mattered, overshadowed by raw dismay.

But what could he say? Apologies never went well for Kaiba because in his mind, he never had anything to feel sorry for. Except this.

"Mokuba…" Kaiba reached out to touch his brother's shoulder, who shrunk away. Kaiba let his arm fall back down his side.

"I don't need you anymore," Mokuba whispered as he took a step back. It wasn't meant to be a hateful statement, but rather, a fact.

They were the words Kaiba feared the most. I'm too late, too late.

Slowly, he sunk back down into his seat. He rested his head in his hands as his fingers dug into his hair. There were two words, two simple words, that had been wanting to escape his mouth since the beginning of their conversation, yet pride kept them caged inside. Perhaps it was the hopelessness of the situation that finally allowed that pride to shrivel away.

"I'm sorry."

Kaiba could only allow himself to stare at the table, never Mokuba, blankly wondering what his apology was worth. Like a privately-owned company that had gone bankrupt in the stock market, had his apology's value spiked impossibly downward?

He felt rather than saw Mokuba move back into the booth. Kaiba glanced up.

Mokuba placed his hands firmly on the table, his face set in determination. "There is one more story I have to tell you," he said.

What else could Kaiba have done? He listened.

"Bullshit!"

"Bullshit!"

"Bullshit!"

Yuugi, Anzu, and Honda all looked sinisterly gleeful as they called out Jounouchi's bluff. The blond threw down his handful of cards in frustration as he let out a cry of disbelief.

"What? Why me?! I'm telling you, I put down an ace!"

Yuugi tapped his finger on the table impatiently. "We went over this before! You can't convince us to take it back when we call 'bullshit'!" Honda snorted at this, apparently still finding Yuugi swearing—even if it's the name of the game—hilarious. Yuugi ignored him. "Now flip!"

Jounouchi grumbled something incoherent before his eyes roamed over to Mokuba. He thumbed over to him. "At least he's got my back. I don't hear him calling no bullshit."

Mokuba laughed as he held up his hands. "That's because I'm bad at detecting when someone's lying."

"Hey!" Jounouchi said, feigning hurt. "Thanks, buddy."

"So are you gonna flip that card over, or is it gonna be one of us?" Honda queried.

"I'll do it!" Anzu trilled, turning Jounouchi's card over before he could protest. "Just confirming the obvious—he put down a joker. What's that even doing in your hand?"

"Well I was sorta hoping you wouldn't have called me out!" Jounouchi said.

"Next time don't act like a headless chicken when one of us suspects you're bluffing," Anzu advised with shrug as Jounouchi raked in the intimidating pile of cards in the center of the table.

"I think you always call 'bullshit' on Jounouchi just because he's Jounouchi," Mokuba piped up.

"No argument there!" Honda grinned. "Hey, I think it's your turn."

"Oh, okay," Mokuba said, eyeing his hand. "So we're starting over since Jounouchi broke the cycle. Here's two." He set down a facedown card, practicing his poker face. Thankfully, no one said anything.

"Three," Yuugi called out as he put down his card.

"Bullshit!" Jounouchi announced immediately.

"Nope, it's a three," Yuugi said, revealing his card with a poorly masked grin. Jounouchi cursed as he removed the pair of cards and into his rapidly-building hand.

"You're bad at this game," Anzu remarked. "Let's pick up at four since we barely got anywhere, thanks to Jounouchi." A ripple of laughter went through the small group. "Honda? It's your turn."

"'Kay. Four." Honda tossed down his card.

Anzu lifted her eyebrow. "Five," she said carefully.

"…Six," Jounouchi said. He quickly looked at his friends, daring them to speak up.

It was now Mokuba's turn again. He eyed his hand; to his relief, there was a single seven of spades among his small collection of cards. He placed it facedown, wondering if Yuugi had the right card to follow up his turn. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Jounouchi yell, "Bullshit!" while pointing challengingly at him. "I'm calling 'bullshit.'"

"Nope, it's a seven," Mokuba said, revealing the card. "Be more careful next time you call someone out!" As expected, Jounouchi overreacted, threatening to flip over the table in outrage. Sometimes, Mokuba felt Jounouchi acted so ridiculous just to make him laugh. There were times an unshakeable sadness would engulf the teen, leaving him morose and generally quiet. Jounouchi, however, had a knack for shoving the dark spots out of the way, allowing Mokuba to remember that the seemingly overwhelming depression wasn't permanent. Every now and then, Mokuba even allowed himself to forget about Kaiba. Absentmindedly, he began fiddling with his new earring, a habit he had recently grown accustomed to when in thought.

"Hey, when did that happen?" Yuugi gestured to Mokuba's earring shortly after the laughter died down.

"This?" Mokuba stopped fiddling with the piercing. "About six months ago. It was right after I—" Yuugi nodded quickly, indicating Mokuba didn't have to finish his statement.

"I told him only a sorry-excuse-for-a-guardian would allow it, so he's pretty lucky," Jounouchi said good-naturedly. "I think it helped take the sting out of leaving his big bro."

A tense pause ensued, as if in question whether the topic was taboo or not.

Mokuba sighed. "I don't mind us talking about him. It's not like he doesn't exist…"

"I just can't believe I haven't noticed it," Yuugi said, opting to change the subject despite Mokuba's permission.

"I guess under all that hair, you wouldn't!" Anzu remarked. She looked at Mokuba. "Now that your hair is so much shorter and pulled back, I can actually see your face. And already you look so much older…"

"Thanks?" Mokuba tried to hide his smile. In his mind, he wanted to continue finding ways to change his appearance; since he was undergoing an internal transformation by living a whole new life, he wanted an external one to take place as well. It helped him feel like he was finally moving on.

Before the conversation could linger on potentially hazardous territory, Yuugi broke the group out of their musings with his turn. The game picked back up immediately, as the group went through multiple rounds before Mokuba checked the time and realized he was going to be late for his test preparation class.

Mokuba kicked back his chair. "I have to get going now. My class starts in five minutes."

Anzu eyed her cell phone. "You have class at this time?" It was nearing eight o' clock, when most activities would be over for the day.

Mokuba nodded. "It's to prepare me for my high school entrance exam."

Jounouchi rolled his eyes. "I told the kid that he doesn't need extra help—he's smarter than I'll ever be."

"Which isn't saying much," Honda snorted.

"Aw can it, asshole," Jounouchi said lightly. "I don't see you acing no entrance exams ever."

"Well I think it's great that you're taking the class," Anzu told Mokuba. "You can never be too prepared."

"You have nothing to worry about," Yuugi added reassuringly. He smiled at the younger teen, who floundered for a graceful way to accept the praise. He settled for a mumbled "thank you" to the group.

Shouldering his nearby book bag, Mokuba raised a hand in farewell. "All right, I guess I'll get going now. I'll see you guys later!" After the chorus of goodbyes that followed, Mokuba turned away, heading for the door. He paused. "Oh, and by the way, Jou. You know that card you just threw down? Bullshit!" He didn't have to look back to detect his guardian's outrage.

Predictably, Jounouchi slammed his fists on the table. "What?! How did you—?"

"Guess Mokuba's not as bad at detecting liars than he must've thought," Honda teased.

Mokuba left his house with a triumphant grin, with the ruckus that immediately followed his call silencing when he closed the door behind him. He sighed into the cool fall air. The icy wind felt soothing against his flushed cheeks. Glancing back at his house, it always surprised him when he reminded himself that this was his home now. It was almost as if he wasn't the same person as before. Everything he once valued gradually seemed less important. Kaiba was reduced to a memory, while Jounouchi and his friends became huge forces in his life. He went to a new school, made new friends, and even began to discover he had interests that he had never allowed himself to pursue before.

For instance, he realized that he enjoyed art, which was something he would have never predicted being a possibility even a year ago. He found nearly all facets of art, such as sketching, painting, and sculpting, deeply satisfying. What he enjoyed the most, however, was taking his drawings and manipulating them on the computer through programs such as Photoshop or LightWave. Much to Mokuba's delight, his talents were rapidly flourishing. Of course, he poured hours into his art, which he considered, in a way, therapeutic. Busying himself with his art allowed him not only to express himself, but to open up a potential career path. Jounouchi had even suggested he look into graphic design. Now that he thought about it, Mokuba considered it a strong possibility.

But first he had to pass his high school entrance exam. Mokuba turned a corner into a small side street, hoping to save time. He glanced at his watch, cringing as he noted it was already a couple minutes past eight. He quickened his pace, mentally scolding himself for not being more aware of the time while he was playing card games with Jounouchi's friends. Mokuba shook his head; his friends. They were his friends too.

"Well I'll be damned, it's Kaiba!" Seizing up, Mokuba felt his heart shoot up to his throat. Then he remembered that to strangers, he was Kaiba. It was his last name too, not just Seto's. Slowly, he turned around.

"I could hardly tell with that new haircut of yours. You hardly look like a girl now!" It was a former classmate of Mokuba's, Cato. He was flanked by two other former classmates, Hachiro and Keiichi.

It took less than a second for Mokuba to realize that he would be in serious trouble if he didn't leave quickly. The looks on the boys' faces were not amiable, to say the least. Plus, Mokuba knew these students were part of a local gang, targeting those who were different and especially students who went to a school other than Azabu. Mokuba fell into both categories.

He silently cursed himself for deciding it was a bright idea to take the dangerous route at nighttime. He had been so consumed with his thoughts that he did not consider the risk.

Mokuba took a step away from the group, his eyes narrowing. "Hey thanks, Cato. I'll be sure to refer you to the place where I got it done. I hear they give a discount to people with hair that looks like roadkill. They'll do you a favor and shave it all off." It probably wasn't the wisest thing to provoke a gang member, though Mokuba relished in the fact he saw Keiichi struggle to maintain a straight face.

"Shut your face, Kaiba, or I'll bust your lip so bad you won't be able to talk for weeks," Cato growled.

"If you don't like what I'm saying, how about you leave me alone?" Mokuba retorted. "Are you looking for a fight or something? I've got to get to class."

"Oh that's right, at your brand new school, yeah? How's that been going for you? Vastly superior to Azabu, I bet." Cato folded his arms. "Tell me, Kaiba. Was the school too good for you, or did you stupidly believe you were too good for the school?"

"And we've heard your big brother kicked you out," Hachiro added. "Is it true?"

Mokuba gripped onto his shoulder strap. "I don't owe any of you an explanation. Are we done here?"

Cato shrugged. "Dunno. Are we, boys?" Something on their faces told Mokuba he needed to leave now. He turned his back on the group and began to run. He didn't get far, however, as he ran straight into someone's broad chest. Before he could collapse from the impact, he was abruptly held up by his hair. He cried out in pain.

The unidentifiable person laughed cruelly. "Your hair's still too long. How 'bout I help you out?" In a rough sawing motion, he tore a knife through Mokuba's hair. The teen finally fell to the ground with a harsh thud after the blade went completely through. His chin scraped against the pavement, and he thought he tasted blood.

From a streetlamp a short distance away, Mokuba could make out the attacker's face. He was young like the other gang members; he was a former classmate as well. Shadows stretched across the boy's face, contouring it to appear more grotesque than what was natural.

"Big mistake, leaving Azabu," the boy said. "You're a nobody now."

Mokuba spat out a mouthful of blood. "Why are you targeting me?" As far as he was aware, he had done nothing to offend any of them. He groaned as he struggled to see straight. His harsh landing knocked his sense of balance out of him. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the other three boys catch up with them.

"Because your brother screwed our families over." Mokuba looked up to see Cato glaring down at him. "All of our fathers owned local gaming companies and all of them went out of business. With how poorly the gaming industry is doing, it seems unfair that Kaiba Corp still remains up and running, just as strong as ever." He moved forward, digging his heel into Mokuba's back. Mokuba bit his lip to keep from grunting.

"Our families have endured unfixable damages. So we want to make sure your brother loses something too, you know, to level the playing field," Cato sneered. "Sound fair?"

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still on the ground, Mokuba returned Cato's gaze as steadily as possible. Maybe it was his pride that he had adopted from his older brother or maybe it was a justified rage for being held accountable for something he had no control over. More than likely, it was the fact Mokuba felt a soreness in his heart at the thought that Cato was wrong; Kaiba would not be losing anything if Mokuba were to get hurt or even die. Kaiba simply would not care.

"Screw all of you," Mokuba finally said. "It's not my problem if all of a sudden you can't afford counseling for a couple months. Get over yourselves."

"Funny, looks like you're the one who's going to need counseling after we're through with you," Cato replied. Though his tone was light, Mokuba could make out the dangerous fury smoldering in his eyes. "Guys? Let's beat that arrogance out of him and make him regret talking back to us."

In the grand scheme of events, the beating really didn't last too long. Mokuba was sure that realistically, it may have lasted a few minutes, maybe five, tops. However, while going through the process, every punch, every swift kick, seemed to last an eternity. Perhaps it was because every blow caused the pain Mokuba experienced to increase exponentially, thus drawing out the attack. Strangely, Mokuba found that his mind began to wander as he lay defenseless on the ground. His mind focused on what he was missing in his class, and who ended up winning the game of Bullshit back at his house. He even wondered if there was any leftover pizza waiting for him in the fridge when he returned home, which he found hilariously absurd. Then, the kicks stopped coming. Mokuba found he couldn't even move, let alone open his eyes, to figure out what was going on. All he could do was lay motionless as explosions of pain rippled throughout his battered body.

A charged stillness suddenly filled the air, only interrupted by the group's ragged breathing. Mokuba speculated they were probably looking down on him like some chemistry experiment gone awry.

"Though it's kinda hard to see through all that blood, you did a pretty nice job on his 'haircut,' Taru," Cato remarked. "But, I think you missed a spot." Though Mokuba was losing consciousness, he felt the sharp edge of a blade skim over the side of his neck. He tried to pull away but was slammed back into the ground. He heard a chorus of laughter. A wave of angry, hot breath poured over his face. "Don't move now. You wouldn't want me to accidentally cut you," Cato murmured. Mokuba felt a trickle of blood run all the way down to his collarbone. His vision kept blurring and darkening, fading in and out. He wondered how far these boys planned on going, let alone how much more he could endure.

At one point, Mokuba thought he heard a familiar voice calling out to him, but he wasn't sure, it seemed so impossibly far away…

"Seto," Mokuba whispered, straining his eyes to see through the darkness. Suddenly he was released by his captors, as he numbly watched them scramble to get away while the familiar voice—or perhaps voices, Mokuba couldn't tell—grew in volume. He felt his head being cradled in someone's strong arms and a delirious sense of happiness washed over him. Kaiba had come to rescue him.

He never got the chance to clarify this speculation, however; soon the warm blanket of unconsciousness overwhelmed him, drowning out his senses in a world of black.

"Maybe you should let him rest. He's going to be in a lot of pain when he wakes up."

"No way! He's gotta wake up. He needs to tell me who those thugs were so I can crack some heads together and make them regret what they did. People like that can't go prowling the streets thinking they can pick on someone just 'cause they feel like it. Bastards."

"How about we take him to a hospital first? He looks awful…"

"No! We kick some ass, then we report the incident."

"Jounouchi…"

Mokuba could vaguely hear the conversation taking place around him, but was only roused awake entirely when he felt a pair of hands give his shoulders a gentle squeeze. He forced his eyes to open.

The first thing he saw, looking up, was Jounouchi's worried, tense face. Jounouchi tried to crack a smile. "Hey, kiddo. Glad to see you're still alive."

Anzu appeared next to the blond. "Well don't scare him. Of course he's alive, right Mokuba? You'll be fine." Mokuba certainly didn't feel fine. His body throbbed everywhere. Straining his neck to glance around, he saw Yuugi and Honda were there as well. He was still outside, only on a main street where a lamplight's jarring glow assaulted his face. He grimaced, closing his eyes for a bit longer.

"How did you know I was in trouble?" Mokuba asked. His voice sounded thick and gravelly. He tried to clear his throat, but even that hurt.

"Your phone must have been in your back pocket, because you accidentally dialed my number," Anzu said. "I'm guessing I was probably the first number in your phone." Mokuba nodded his head, suppressing the urge to groan.

"What probably happened was, your phone dialed Anzu's number when you hit the ground. You know, after those bastards…" Jounouchi cut himself off, looking too furious to continue. Mokuba noticed Jounouchi's fist clenching and unclenching.

"Boy, they really did a number on him," Honda said quietly. "Kid, what did you do?"

Mokuba started to laugh, but stopped with a wince. "Nothing. They didn't like how Kaiba Corp is doing so well when their family businesses are facing bankruptcy." Mokuba strained to look at his friends' faces. "Now I can't even feel my legs. Or anything else, for that matter."

"Which is exactly why he needs to see a doctor now," Yuugi urged, looking directly at Jounouchi. "I know what it's like to get beaten senseless. And I'm telling you, when I was in Mokuba's condition, I would take immediate treatment any day over seeing the attackers face punishment."

"But this isn't fair!" Jounouchi exploded. "Mokuba didn't do anything. He was minding his own business. Then these punks come along and rip him apart just because they thought his life didn't suck as much as theirs? This kid has faced more pain than anyone should in a lifetime. Where the hell is the justice in that?" Jounouchi's shoulders were shaking and Mokuba quickly realized that he was actually fighting back tears.

This isn't right, he should never feel this way because of me…

"Why do you care so much?" Mokuba asked, ignoring the jolt of pain that shot through his body.

Jounouchi grew still. Though Mokuba's vision was limited, he could see the disbelief wash over his face.

"You idiot, how could you ask that?" Jounouchi finally said. "Of course I care about you. We all do. You're like my little brother."

At that moment, a thought lazily floated to the forefront of Mokuba's mind; while he was enduring the attack, in his delirium he had thought Kaiba had come to defend him. But he was wrong. Jounouchi, Anzu, Yuugi, and Honda were the ones who came to his aid. It was never Seto all along…

Tears threatened to prick Mokuba's eyes as he struggled to blink them away. But then, looking up into Jounouchi's face—and Anzu's, and Yuugi's, and Honda's—he realized something. It didn't matter.

No, it really doesn't matter.

Because who needs a brother defined by blood when he's got an entire family that gravitated to him by choice to stay by his side?

And looking at all of them, one by one, he knew they would never leave him. So in the end, the tears Mokuba tried to hold back finally spilled over and glided over his bruised cheeks, not because he was sad, but because he was so impossibly happy.

It wasn't until Mokuba sat back, heaving a great sigh, that Kaiba realized he was done telling his story. Mokuba looked exhausted, and too old for someone who had only lived for barely eighteen years.

But Kaiba was certain Mokuba did not experience the world-weary, deep dissatisfaction that could only arise from true defeat. As he did. Looking at his younger brother who had been impossibly brave by taking on a brand new life, one that was undoubtedly less corrupt than his, Kaiba realized he was truly defeated. Everything he thought he stood for seemed trivial, almost pathetic.

The life Kaiba thought he was creating was actually just a poorly-disguised attempt to convince himself that his obsessive need for work was to make his brother happy. Somewhere along the way, money began to directly translate as happiness. Kaiba's happiness.

Where did his values go? Where did his morals? His heart? For too long, Kaiba had been blinded by his need to go up the social ladder and further increase his extensive list of successes. But one thing he was an absolute failure at was his personal relationships. Kaiba looked down at his trembling hands, realization at last striking him. He had no one.

The one person, the only person in his entire life, who Kaiba thought he could count on had left him. The nastiest part of this equation was not the fact Mokuba had left. It was that Kaiba made it impossible for Mokuba to stay. It was entirely, irrevocably, his fault.

"I'm sorry," Kaiba whispered for the second time that day. His voice broke, but he pressed on. "Mokuba, I am so, so sorry…" His hands flew up to cover his face. He was disgracing himself, but he could no longer find fight off the monster of regret looming over him. Distantly, he noted that behind his hands, his tears flowed so freely they squeezed past his fingers and down his wrists, falling ever downward. He could not remember a time he had cried in public. Or ever.

I don't care, let everyone see me. I don't even know who I am anymore…

Mokuba had remained silent up until this point. Kaiba could feel Mokuba's eyes watching him, maybe impassively. He wondered what Mokuba was thinking.

"I forgive you."

Kaiba forced himself to put his hands down, returning his brother's gaze.

"It's all I can give you, so I hope it's enough." Mokuba edged out of his seat and stood up. He made his way over to Kaiba's side of the table and placed his arms around him, holding tight.

Kaiba squeezed back, his mind reeling back to years ago, when they embraced like this. It was right after the long battle to retrieve his brother from Pegasus's maniacal clutches. It seemed like he would never get Mokuba back. When he did, he remembered that despite how shaken Mokuba was, Kaiba had never felt so relieved. So he didn't care all his enemies were watching, he threw down his briefcase and held his younger brother so firmly he might have knocked the wind out of him. Maybe that was happiness.

Now, the only difference since then was that Mokuba almost stood exactly at Kaiba's height. And Kaiba was the one who needed the comforting, not the other way around.

"I want you to know that this will be the last time you will see me." Mokuba finally broke off the embrace, standing back.

Somehow Kaiba already suspected this. Gathering his composure, he numbly nodded his head.

Mokuba scrutinized Kaiba's face, possibly for a sign. "I'm guessing you already know why."

After a pause, Kaiba stood up too. He absently wiped the bangs out of his eyes. His tears were already beginning to dry. "Because we both know I'll never change."

Mokuba smiled sadly.

"You gave me all you could. So let me return the favor." Kaiba sucked in his breath before releasing it. It was all he could do to keep an overwhelming sadness, a smothering nostalgia, from completely washing over him. "I wish you the best."

It was the last thing Kaiba ever said to Mokuba. He didn't even hear Mokuba when he said, "you too," he just watched as his brother turned away, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked away. He never looked back. As Mokuba's form moved farther and farther away, outlined by the dim glow of the café lights, Kaiba knew that for once, it was selflessness, not selfishness, that kept him from going after his brother. Mokuba knew, and he knew, that he would never change. Allowing Mokuba back into his life would only open the younger Kaiba brother up for more disappointment and more hurt. Life was all one big cycle to Kaiba, and he knew—he felt it within his very bones—that it was only a matter of time until he was back to his old ways.

And so, for the sake of Mokuba's happiness and not his own, he let him go. It must have been love, in some twisted way.

Now that he thought about it, Kaiba might have despised Jounouchi, but in the end he had to thank him for saving his brother. Jounouchi, Yuugi, Anzu, Honda…they weren't bad people, and Kaiba couldn't hate them for giving Mokuba something he never could. And for that he held no grudges, no anger, or no bitter feelings regarding Mokuba's decision to leave him.

Kaiba felt a surge of irrational contentment, but it wasn't for himself. Mokuba chose not to follow in his brother's footsteps, and inexplicably, he was grateful. Though he would grapple with regret for possibly his whole life, he found himself quietly smiling nonetheless.

For Mokuba.