...Is anyone still reading this? T.T

If so, I'm very sorry...Slow, slow update...

Thank you so much, if you're still with me, theabridgedkuriboh, YamiEditor, YGOfangirl4ever, AndyJune, Nerdvi, storyline246, lilymansfield, love pup, Raspberry 14, Debbie the Fabulous, Clarity2199, Livelygirl838, EmotionalInsomniac13, SmartPsychoticChaos, Mustangmoon23, TheGeekInPink92, AnnaMNR, and both of my anonymous guest reviewers.

I couldn't find the motivation to go back and finish this, but I went back and re-read all of the reviews you guys left...and then, I ended up so motivated, I wrote this all in one sitting! I guess I should've done that sooner, huh? Thanks guys, and sorry about the wait. :')


December 16, 20XX

Nearly a year after he forced this journal on me, it seems that Mokuba has completely forgotten its existence.

I wouldn't bother writing in this any more, especially now that I've finally escaped the obligation, but under the circumstances, I have little else to do. Wheeler locked me in my room without my laptop, and Mokuba disabled my connections to the outside. They insist that I 'rest' because of the all-nighter I pulled yesterday, but it's difficult to sleep when I can hear them shouting next door in Mokuba's room. Wheeler is incapable of playing video games 'quietly', but if my brother starts using the same vulgar language he does, I will make Wheeler suffer.

Mokuba came home for winter break, and he was delighted to learn that the stray mutt has declared this his second home. Or, more accurately, his first home, since he seems to enjoy spending more time here than his own. Better food and a better television, he declares, and better company too.

He only adds the latter when he's feeling particularly irritating. He knows I despise that friendship nonsense.

The last time I wrote in this, it appears Wheeler was still under suspicion of divulging KaibaCorp technological data. I was correct, of course, when I suspected his supervisor. After investigating him a few more days, I found all the evidence needed to destroy him in court.

The man was fired, but he escaped without a lawsuit under Wheeler's request. The idiot said that he didn't like Mr. Takahashi after the man caused him to lose his job, but proclaimed that as long as he never did it again, nothing good ever came from holding grudges.

Which is why the moron, after yelling at me extensively and shouting insults too crude to be repeated by a more sophisticated person, decided to continue his efforts to befriend me. He decided to 'forgive' me for firing him.

In other words, he eventually accepted my offer of the empty position, despite the fact that I regretted the proposal as soon as the words left my mouth. He interpreted the offer as an apology, and when I claimed it was only because he was capable, he became even more smug.

Insufferable idiot. Although as much as I loathe to admit it, he is perfectly qualified for the job. I don't hire the incompetent. Still, the smile that stretched across his face made it look like I had offered him a damn mansion.

Then again, it seems Wheeler did interpret my job offer as an open invitation to my house, so perhaps that is what he was excited about.

The fool shows no intentions of giving up his idiotic game to annoy me as much as humanly possible, and continues to insist that we're friends. Rather than forcing him to leave; however, I've had to reevaluate my strategy. Instead of focusing my efforts on ignoring the blond moron and hoping he leaves, I've decided the most effective strategy would be to let him stay and ignore his attempts to irritate me. After all, if his game is to make me snap, I won't give him the satisfaction.

Besides, Wheeler might think he's the one who irritates me the most, but he flatters himself. While he prides himself on his "irritatingness", I'd hardly say he's the most annoying person I work with or even know. I've learned to tolerate him— or at the very least, filter out his idiotic nonsense until he says something mildly intelligent.

I do realize he never tries to infuriate me to an unforgivable extent; though, only severely exasperate me. He's learned to notice when he pushes me too far or when my temper is about to snap, and avoids his usual methods of annoyance when it occurs and even attempts to lighten my mood.

Just yesterday, for instance, I was already short-tempered from the holiday demands. Aggravating business deals, desperate consumers, idiotic employees. It's always the same. I was working overtime yesterday evening, and as Wheeler has been doing for the past few months or so, he came to harass me until I agreed to go home.

When he arrived, he'd barely even begun his usual pestering; he was only complaining about how he was hungry, how Mokuba was waiting, and how even workaholic robots need to recharge at the end of the day. Irritating, but normally not to the point where I lose my temper with him.

After just receiving yet another pointless phone call offering an idea for yet another holiday KaibaCorp promotion; however, I had no patience for him. I greeted him by telling him to shut the hell up and get the hell out of my office; I had more important things to do than entertain a hungry mutt. I turned my back to him, ignored his protests, and answered another phone call.

My tone lacked any of what little patience I normally have, and before he'd started working for me, the dog slur alone would've been enough to offend him and make him slam the door with a furious 'fuck you, Moneybags'. But when I turned back a few minutes later, he'd left without a sound.

Well, I certainly didn't have time to track him down and assuage his 'hurt feelings', but it turns out I didn't have to. He returned around ten minutes later with a coffee, set it down in front of me, and ignored me when I asked what it was for.

Without meeting my eyes, all he mumbled was that he wouldn't let me off so easy every time, and started helping me with filing.

I told him I wouldn't pay him over time, but he stayed for four hours, helping me around the office. I arrived home nearly two and half hours sooner than I would have as a result, and he never even asked for a thanks or an apology.

Well, he probably knew he wouldn't receive either. He kept unusually silent for the entire limo ride, at least until we passed a nearby pizza parlor. Even then, he didn't say anything out loud until I spoke. He just looked at it, so tragically it was pathetic.

He would've been able to eat four hours ago if he'd just left. And so, in a rare moment of ill judgement, I decided the two hours he freed me for technically belonged to him, so I ordered the limo to pull over and told Wheeler to make it fast.

His mouth hung open for a good ten seconds when he realized I was letting him get pizza, and even waiting in the limo until he finished. Maybe I should stop calling him a mutt and start calling him a goldfish; the car obviously wouldn't fit through the drive-through. Although he'd been surprised enough that I agreed to give him a ride, even though I told him I was merely avoiding potential lawsuits if he broke his foot in the door again.

He tried to drag me inside with him, but I refused to enter such a low class outlet. In the end, he stubbornly brought several boxes of pizza out to the limo instead, saying it would be rude of him not to share, and anyway, he claimed he was worried I'd leave without him.

Normally I never would have touched the greasy mess, but I hadn't eaten since lunch either, and it was past 9:30. So Wheeler shared it with me, if by 'shared', it means I ate one slice while he ate the other three boxes.

He never complained about working unpaid overtime, he never asked for payment, and he was ridiculously angry when I stayed up until four-thirty working at home despite the fact that he had managed to get me away from the office. And then he convinced Mokuba to lock me in my room, which I will make him regret as soon as I leave. I could escape now, of course, but I have no particular desire to break out of my own room.

Regardless, I do realize that the mutt is simply concerned for my health, as unnecessary as it is. So while annoying me does appear to be one of his objectives, I'm aware that he also seems to have formed a genuine attachment.

Whether that attachment is to myself or to my high-definition entertainment system remains to be seen.

Judging from the hollers next door, it sounds as though Mokuba just defeated him in yet another video game. The mutt is complaining about something that sounds suspiciously like 'Kaiba genes' being 'inhuman', but Mokuba is laughing too hard for me to hear the specifics. Fortunately for the mutt.

Come to think of it, I suspect my brother didn't forget about this journal at all. He appears under the impression that Joey and I are friends, which had been his initial objective when he asked me to write in this journal. Although after listening to the moron curse my name when Mokuba defeats him, I worry about my brother's deductive reasoning skills.

To begin with, he wanted me to have someone to 'confide' in, and asked me to use this journal as a replacement. I'd hardly say I speak to Wheeler as such, but if it satisfies Mokuba, I'm willing to let him live under that impression. I'll even let the mutt stay at the mansion every once in awhile, to maintain the illusion.

Then again, it's difficult to keep it simply an illusion when the guards no longer even ask my permission to let him in. I suppose, in an incredibly loose form of the definition, Wheeler and I are at least more than frigid acquaintances. Nor are we enemies anymore.

Alarming. I can almost see why Mokuba thinks we're friends.

Well, regardless of the time I have to spend in his idiotic presence, titles are worthless. People who have claimed to be friends have stabbed each other in the back with no remorse, so I have no hidden desire for such a companion. At the very least, friends or not, I trust Wheeler enough that he won't plan or assist in the downfall of my company, despite his occasional threats of a coup d'etat.

Only a complete moron would tell me that he's planning to take over my company and focus it on the mass production of french fries.

I can only hope that when Mokuba gets older, he won't have the same appetite as he does. It's no small miracle in itself that Joey isn't disgustingly overweight—how he remains thin, and muscular at that, remains a mystery—but I don't need my brother picking up his unnatural affinity for food.

It might be too late. They're calling me for dinner now, and it sounds like they convinced the cooks to make pizza again. As if I didn't get enough of the repulsive dish yesterday. That is the last time I ever humor Wheeler and his stomach.

Well then, this should be my last time writing in this journal. I suppose there's no harm done aside from lost time, as long as this never falls in undesirable hands. Which is virtually impossible, since there's no possible way anyone would ever find this. No one's allowed in my room aside from Mokuba, so there's nothing worth concerning myself over in that respect.

As long as my brother doesn't have any more unwanted ideas, this should be the end of it.

-Seto Kaiba


The End.

...Sort of. I actually found this partially written "bonus" chapter I had written up...would people be interested in me finishing that and posting it, as a sort of epilogue?

Anyway, now I'm going to try and focus on a new puppyshipping fic, "Best of Both Minds", but it's a totally different style from this, soooo...not sure if people would be interested? Guess I'll mention it, though, just in case. :) (shameless plug)

Bahh, I'm not quite sure what to make of this, truthfully. I'd love a review, whether to tell me if you loved it, hated it, or you want that extra chapter.

Thanks for reading! :D