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Precocious	By : PupshitDesu Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1861 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any associated properties therein. We do not profit from the creation of this work.

Chapter List
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It was already becoming dark when dinner passed silently, Mokuba still shut in his bedroom after catching a fever. He had been stupid, while Gozaburo was out. Always the dramatic one, he had escaped his bedroom while the businessman was gone and tried running off into the woods in a rainstorm, hiding up in a tree before security found him and Isono had talked him down. He refused to listen to Seto, who was visibly panicking without Gozaburo around to watch him, and it was only after some coercing did the boy climb down the tree, becoming nearly deathly ill afterwards.

Everyone was on edge over it. Of course Damien had called for a doctor and the boy was being treated, but he wasn't that old and it worried Seto. It got him riled up in ways he wished it hadn't, as he was unable to do anything while his brother cried in bed in pain, trying to concentrate on his work, but unable to.

Standing there in his bedroom with his duel monsters cards on the floor, he tried thinking up a deck. Something to entertain himself with. Gozaburo hadn't allowed him to play, even though it was an easy activity and it required a certain amount of competitive ruthlessness that his adoptive father would have found... appealing.

But it wasn't something he ever allowed Seto time to think about, except for maybe on a spare weekend when he was gone away on business. Then Isono would sneak him decks from the city and without saying anything, he'd go to some unknown competition under a false identity and try playing.

Or finding the collection of cards he was looking for. The elusive Blue Eyes White Dragon, which Seto wasn't yet able to find, but refused to give up on. One day he'd find them, all of them, he was sure of it, and thinking about that, he distracted himself from the sounds of his wailing brother next door.

He could see through his bedroom window that Gozaburo was home. He'd just stepped out of his limo, which wasn't unusual in the least. What was strange was the procession of other limousines and similarly upscale vehicles that filed into the circular driveway. Seto cursed under his breath, and pulled his cards together to hide them. Whatever was happening, Gozaburo finding his deck wouldn't be a good thing.

He got himself together in the bathroom, ensuring that he was "presentable" since Gozaburo obviously had guests and would probably try to show him off. Seto smoothed his hair, mostly out of irritation since he knew Gozaburo would probably muss it up later in some condescending "paternal" gesture.

He wasn't surprised when he heard a knock on the door, and after he called out in response, Damien entered.

"Young master," he addressed, bowing respectfully, "Kaiba-sama has commanded your presence downstairs."

How unexpected.

"I'm on my way," Seto replied, striding toward the door. It didn't seem like it could be true, but Gozaburo was quite obviously having some kind of party. He didn't have business engagements at the house, and from the directions of the noise he heard on his way through the hallway, the guests seemed to be gathering in one of the social rooms. The mansion had a ballroom. Of all the useless things...

Well, functionally useless. Gozaburo seemed fond of herding people into it. Especially if he had Seto nearby and could make him perform tricks for the audience.

When he arrived in the foyer, there were a few dozen people at least wandering around the lighted rooms on the first floor. Seto knew people were looking at him, but so long as they didn't address him, he didn't have to stop. He scanned the crowd for Gozaburo, knowing that would be the best way to figure out exactly what was going on.

But once he'd found him, Seto immediately regretted looking so throughly for him. The man seemed to have radar senses, coming over to him and grabbing his shoulder a bit too roughly than what was appropriate, hauling him into the ballroom as people watched, some unsure whether to say something or not before Gozaburo grabbed a microphone and spoke, trying to hush the crowd with his giant booming voice.

"Good evening," he began, getting the attention of those assembled, "As you know, you've all been invited here in celebration of my son, Seto, who has just turned fifteen."

His sharp eyes fell on Seto as he spoke. Seto curled his lip in disdain.

"I, of course, would like to extend my sincerest congratulations to him," Gozaburo continued, his eyes now on the crowd of people in the ballroom, "And though he isn't able to join us tonight, I'm sure that my younger son Mokuba would like to extend the same tidings."

Seto schooled his expression against a reaction to both the words, and the slight constriction of Gozaburo's grip on his shoulder.

"So please, everyone enjoy this evening."

There was quiet applause, and Gozaburo left the microphone, glancing at Seto through the corners of his eyes as he walked away. Seto knew better than to think he was off the hook. Gozaburo was more creative than that. He was infuriated at this point, and humiliated, but it wasn't exactly out of the norm.

If anything, he was disappearing for a drink. He was always doing that, with a crowd of people around. Or even alone. Seto didn't know how many times he found him tucked away in some hidden study when he thought the house was empty of him, in some sort of drunken stupor babbling about whatever stupid shit came to mind as Seto tried disappearing before being seen. It was alarming, the first few times, but now much older and not quite as naive, it was just something Seto came to expect.

Like how three hours later, Gozaburo was smashed. Even his guests were trying to avoid him, as he swayed around and grabbed at serving ladies, making a general ass of himself while the board laughed at him. It made Seto tighten his jaw. He didn't like watching Gozaburo look like a fool, which in turn made him look like a fool.

Walking over to him and looking at Isono in hopes he'd join, Seto tried catching Gozaburo's arm before preparing himself for the backlash he'd get while trying to take the man to bed.

"Father, it's late. And you have work tomorrow."

The look Gozaburo directed at him was strange. Not even anger or even cruel amusement as Seto might have expected. He seemed a little disoriented at first, and then an expression of recognition crossed his face.

"Where's your mother?" He asked, his voice slurred by his drunkenness. Seto blinked in surprise at the question. At first, he thought it might be some kind of trick, but Gozaburo's capacity for running circles around him was severely diminished when he drank.

"She's...she died," Seto stated, frowning, "You know this already. It's late, and I don't feel like playing this game with you."

He knew Gozaburo had no idea what he was referring to, following along confusedly once Isono took his arm. Usually he wasn't so subdued while intoxicated, but he did always seem less abusive. It was like Seto was something to be ignored while messed up, which didn't bother him in the least. It was better than the alternative.

"Isono, can you lead us to the staircase? I'll drag him up myself."

People were starting to disappear from the house, the foyer mainly empty except for a handful of guests who gathered by the steps as Seto took hold of Gozaburo's arm, hauling it over his shoulder. He was a pretty strong kid, but not very big, and pulling the older man up, he gritted his teeth each step he took, his adoptive father unhelpful the entire way.

"Master Seto, do you require any assistance?" Asked Isono, "You don't have to carry him yourself."

Seto didn't reply though. He kept going up the stairs, nearly losing Gozaburo several times due to his near dead weight, before finally reaching the top, too winded to stay stubborn as Isono took the old man instead.

"Take me to your mother," ordered the drunk, "I must see her before she gets more upset with me."

Seto ignored him, knowing that any attempt on his part to talk sense into him would be futile. He probably wouldn't remember any of this upon waking, so there wasn't much point anyway. He was immensely thankful that Isono had Gozaburo now. The older man was far stronger and had better technique carrying dead weight.

They started walking down the hallways, but Seto noticed very quickly that they were headed for the deceased Mrs. Kaiba's bedroom rather than Gozaburo's. Seto didn't argue. If the old man wanted to sleep in there tonight, it wasn't his business.

Seto opened the door so Isono could drag Gozaburo inside. Gozaburo grumbled, looking around the room confusedly before speaking.

"Where is she?" He demanded, trying and failing to stand. Isono had to stop him from tumbling to the ground. "Where's my wife?"

"She's gone, you fool," muttered Seto, quickly losing his patience over the situation he was dealt with. His brother was sick in bed, probably still crying if awake, and the idiot wanted to whine all night over his decade long dead wife. It was like something out of a mad tragedy.

"If you had any sense, you'd realize that by now."

"What-" Gozaburo seemed unsure of where Seto's voice was coming from, as if he was hearing it for the first time. Whether the words spoken had actually registered at all was yet to be seen. Gozaburo shook his head, becoming urgent again, and he turned his head as he spoke.

"Noa, what-"

He paused, his eyes trained on the full-length mirror that was propped against the wall opposite them. He seemed almost horrified as he stared at Seto's reflection, but his expression shifted quickly into a deep rage.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, his voice turning venomous and face contorting, "You are not my son. Get out of this room now!"

Seto didn't have to be told twice. He was quick to walk off, glad that Isono was there to keep some distance between them, but he turned back to find Gozaburo on the ground stumbling, like a newborn unable to walk yet.

"You think because you look like him, you could ever be like my real son, Seto? You're a terrible replacement. Not only do you fail intellectually, you could never be as worthy as my own flesh and blood... You aren't even likeable. No one could ever want you, not even your dead parents. It's little wonder they killed themselves one by one, you were such a fucking disappointment," spat Gozaburo, who was nearly drooling on himself while lying on the floor, "You'll never replace what I've lost. Ever."

"Isono, please make sure he gets back to his own bedroom," Advised Seto, brushing off the insults before closing the door, "I don't want him getting upset when he can't remember where he was the night before."

"Yes, Master Seto."

He didn't say anything else. He simply turned on his heel and walked briskly toward the hallway where his and Mokuba's rooms were. He didn't need to waste time mulling over the bitter ravings of a drunk old man, especially one as despicable as Gozaburo.

Despite the fact that his words had been blurted so openly and displayed such personal weakness, Seto couldn't help but feel slightly scathed. He shook it off, knowing it was irrational, that Gozaburo had always felt that way-and had never really indicated anything to the contrary. Why should he have expected the old fool to say anything else, when it came down to the wire?

It was of little importance. It hardly put a damper on the plan Seto was devising, anyway.

He could hear Mokuba from the hallway. At first, he thought he shouldn't enter his brother's room, but recalling that Gozaburo was out of commission for the evening, he opened the door and walked in. How wrong was it, that he had even considered going back to his room without stopping to visit his brother? He was extremely sick.

Mokuba's sobs quieted a little when he realized he wasn't alone, though whether it was pride or fear of reprimand that inspired it, Seto couldn't be sure.

"Nii-sama?" Mokuba's voice carried across the room as Seto quietly shut the door. "Is that you?"

He sounded so weak. So terribly frail and helpless. Seto was almost angry with him for staying out in the storm, but he quelled it. What good would it do in this situation?

"It's me," he replied, keeping his voice low as he approached the bed and sat down, "How are you holding up?"

"The light hurts," Mokuba pouted. His eyes were just barely open, as if he was trying to see his older brother and shield them from the glow of his bedside lamp at the same time. Seto reached over and clicked off the lamp, resulting in almost complete darkness-the only light in the room that remained came from the crack in the curtains where the moon shone through.

"Better?" He asked, and he heard a quiet sound of assent from Mokuba. Seto sighed, resting the back of his hand on his brother's forehead. His temperature was still far higher than it should have been, though it was lower than it had been earlier.

"I really wish you hadn't hidden in that tree in the rain, Mokuba," said Seto, his voice cross between scolding and anxiety, "This wouldn't have happened if you weren't acting out."

"Nii-sama, I won't do it again."

"I know you won't."

Mokuba scooted over closer to Seto, laying his head in his lap. And not against giving some physical affection when the time for it was appropriate, Seto stroked his hair, looking down at the mess of black that had to have come from their father. He was the Japanese one, while their mother was not. Hence Seto's hair and their foreign looking eyes.

"Kaiba is gone, he passed out drunk in his bed," informed Seto, still looking down at Mokuba, "And if you had any sense, you'd go to sleep as well. You need rest, Mokuba."

"All I do is sleep," the young boy lamented, "I want to go back outside. Or something. It's so boring here."

"Get a maid to read to you or something."

"I'd rather you read to me..."

"-Mokuba, you know I can't do that."

It was pitiful, the look Seto's brother gave him from the disappointment in knowing his wish could not be accommodated, and sighing, Seto used his hand to pull back Mokuba's bangs again.

"One day it won't be like this, Mokuba. One day Kaiba will be gone and it'll just be you and I. I promise, you just have to be patient. Good things don't just happen spontaneously, and I need to make sure we have a home within the next year before figuring out a way to get rid of him... It won't be easy."

"Nii-sama, I think you could do it," said Mokuba, looking up at Seto briefly, "You're smarter than he is."

"I'd like to think I am."

Sometimes he couldn't be sure. But, he supposed, if he didn't become sure, then he'd never be able to come out ahead of Gozaburo. He'd have to really use all his intellectual firepower if he wanted to succeed against him. Kaiba had years of experience, but he didn't have the same brilliance that Seto knew he himself possessed.

"We'll beat him," Seto assured Mokuba, stroking his hair gently in a repetitive gesture that would hopefully relax him to sleep, "Don't worry. I'm coming up with a plan."

One that was risky, and would require throwing his weight around. Not to mention a considerable amount of social engineering. But he could do that; he was trained for it. Gozaburo hadn't expected-or had been too arrogant to think-that he had groomed what was to be his greatest enemy. Seto knew without a doubt that nothing would change if all he did was return the loan. Then what? Gozaburo would never be satisfied with him, and would probably always harbor his vendetta. But Seto would need the resources of an established company for his plans, so there was no logic in trying to destroy Kaiba Corporation.

No, better to take it away from Gozaburo. It would be the perfect victory, wouldn't it? To destroy him utterly, and leave him powerless. Seto considered it the best solution, and fully intended to pursue it.

Mokuba's breathing was deeper and slower. Hopefully he'd be able to fall asleep, and be unconscious through the worst of the fever. It was good to see that he was improving, at least. Mokuba wasn't nearly as frail as he often seemed. Perhaps not as strong as his brother, but not hopelessly weak.

"Mokuba," he began, now that the boy was asleep, "I'm sorry about killing your dog. It wasn't something I wanted to do. And I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from Gozaburo. I've been trying so hard to shelter you from him, but there's only so much I can do... He's stronger than I am, right now. And no matter what I try to do to keep you out of his sight, it doesn't work. I told you not to get attached to that dog...

But I also knew he'd do something bad when the chance came. It was my fault for letting you get attached, and I should have told you all of this before instead of letting you run off and get sick from being caught in a storm. I'm responsible for that and I've failed you as a brother. I'm sorry."

His apology fell upon deaf ears, and frowning, Seto got up and left the bedroom, shaking his head at himself as he left for his own room to sleep alone.
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Precocious