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“Good afternoon, Mokuba-kun. Do you recognize me today? I’m Yugi, Mutou Yugi. We played Capmon together? You were really, really good.”
The boy in front of him said nothing, just idly moved the toy train in his hands back and forth on the wood floor, eyes empty of the life they had held before. Mokuba hadn’t said anything in a long time; no full sentences, just babbles, an attempt to get attention, any sort of attention. He needed just as much care as his older brother, if not more so, and Yugi couldn’t imagine what must be going on in his head, if anything was. The poor boy must be so lonely, given his brother, albeit an abusive one, was in a coma. The staff always seemed too busy to sit down and actually converse with him; or try to.
The bedroom was quite messy, with toys strewn about hazardously and clothes, both dirty and clean, dumped on the floor without care. It hadn’t been cleaned in days and, in the state Mokuba was in, he couldn’t do it himself. Yugi had mentioned it to the maids yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. If they were going to give all their attention to their comatose CEO, then Yugi would just have to tidy up the room himself.
Now that he really thought about it, Mokuba was still wearing the same clothes from all those days ago.
“They’re not really doing a good job taking care of you, are they?”
Mokuba finally acknowledged him with a babble of nonsense.
For the next six months, Yugi would go to the Kaiba Mansion nearly daily, be it after school or during breaks from working in his grandfather’s shop. In those six months, Yugi learned to organize better than his grandfather and mother combined, how to bathe, change, and feed an incapacitated child, and how to balance school life, social life, and babysitting life without getting too stressed.
Okay, that was a lie; he was always stressed.
Jounouchi-kun had approached him, in the beginning, to ask if this is how he really wanted to spend his time. Hadn’t the kid hurt them? Threatened them, poisoned them, had no issue with them dying, after all, and his brother was a megalomaniac.
“I need to. They’re letting him sit in his own filth. They’re fine with leaving him by himself all day and do nothing. I know what Mokuba-kun has done, but he’s just a little boy, Jounochi-kun, whose only family is, well…”
“Crazy? Batshit? FUBAR?”
“Yeah. It was all he knew. He just wanted to be loved. I can’t sit here and let a nine-year-old, traumatized via something Kaiba-kun made to hurt me, suffer like this. Could you?”
“…No, I don’t think I could. Not without it weighing on my shoulders.”
Jounouchi had left him to his own devices after that.
Now, months later, on the night his grandfather’s soul was stolen and the invitation to Duelist Kingdom dropped into his lap, he had to make a tough decision. Would Mokuba be okay while he was gone? He had no idea when he’d come back, if he’d come back, and there were no signs of Mokuba’s condition improving. Maybe he should call the mansion, let them know he’d be gone, and pray they’d actually do something.
The reply he received chilled his blood.
“You don’t need to worry any longer; Mokuba-sama has been graciously taken in by the director of Industrious Illusions.”
It was weird. Seeing Kaiba Seto once again standing tall; his pride, while wounded, still peacocking around. It seemed even a Punishment Game couldn’t stifle his ego. Cold blue eyes pierced into his core, and Yugi couldn’t move, not even when the taller man grabbed the collar of his shirt and barked, “Where is he?”
He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t know. He’d been in a coma for six months, dead to the world, his paycheck-loyal employees not leaving his side while his baby brother, only nine years of age, suffered in his shadow once more. Yugi could feel a rage inside, starting in his chest, where the Puzzle laid heavy, and with his right hand curling into a fist, he clocked the other boy, hard, in the face, causing him to lose his footing, drop Yugi, and fall on his ass.
“Where is he? Where is he? Is that seriously the first fucking thing you have to say, Kaiba-kun? What about ‘hi, Yugi’? What about not picking me up and trying to intimate an answer out of me like I’m one of your employees? I’m not sure where Mokuba-kun is exactly, just that he’s with Pegasus. The better question here is ‘what happened while I was in a coma’ because I sure as hell can answer that!”
If there was an expression on Kaiba’s face, it wasn’t one Yugi knew, nor did he care to know. Kaiba didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before Yugi was yelling again.
“SIX MONTHS! Six months I went to your mansion to check up on you and Mokuba-kun. Six months I set up time to take care of your brother because your good-for-nothing employees were too busy ignoring him to focus on getting their paychecks. For six months I had to clean and put away his laundry, dust his room, change his clothes and diapers, bathe him, because no one else was helping him. No one cared about him, Kaiba-kun, because that is what you taught your employees when you tossed him aside again and again. They had no issue letting him sit in his own filth for days.
“He hasn’t said a real word in months. He babbles and that’s it. He stays in his room with his toys, not even really playing with them, just…just going through the motions. He doesn’t even know who you are anymore, Kaiba-kun, I’ve shown him photos of you. He doesn’t recognize me, Honda-kun, Jounouchi-kun, Anzu, no one! You have no right to come here and start acting like you run the place, like you’re the big boss, because I have lost nearly all my respect for you. The only reason I’m have any left is because you’re here and looking for him. Don’t screw up your only chance to fix things.”
The quiet steps of Kaiba Seto walking past him and into the forest said enough.
"Mokuba…kiddo. It’s me, it’s your Niisama.”
The child in chains lifted his head ever so slightly, to see what the cause of noise was, only to drop it back down. He was filthy; shirt dirty and torn (he looked so skinny…), hair tangled, pants soiled, one shoe off. Did Crawford’s lackeys have no shame? Is this what Crawford wanted, to let an already suffering child (because of him) suffer more?
“Mokuba, I’m…I’m…shit. Let me get you out of there; there has to be a bathroom somewhere. I’ll get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll get you cleaned up, wrap you in my jacket, and we can go home. Does that sound good?”
The silence was deafening. The jingling of keys, not the ones in his hand, signaled the presence of another.
“Well, well, well, it seems Kaiba-boy has finally shown up. Here I was thinking you wouldn’t bother with him; after all, his pathetic state was created by your own hand.”
Pegasus brushed the hair from his face, the golden eye glinting in the flames’ light. The smile on his face was monstrous, a gleeful look only a crazed man could have.
It was eerily similar to the one he’d used to wear.
“Looks like my men forgot to check on him; they must have learned from yours. When I came and took the poor boy under my wing, he didn’t fight. I originally had him in a better room, with people looking after him constantly, but after you began to mess with my tournament, I knew I had to do something. Maybe I was a little too harsh on Mokuba-boy.”
“Harsh? You left him here to rot.”
Pegasus laughed, raising a hand to cover his mouth, as if to quiet himself.
“Now, now. I did no such thing. I knew you would come eventually and, depending on the circumstances, Mokuba would be moved somewhere better, maybe even in the room across of mine so I could ensure his safety and comfort.”
“And what circumstance is this?”
“This one.”
The light from his eye was brighter than anything Kaiba had seen, almost blinding, and he had to look away, away towards the wall, from his brother. He did not see him fall, but he could hear the clinking of the chains. There was no cry of pain, no words, just a sad, broken babble before silence.
“What…what have you done to him? Talk, you snake!”
“Don’t worry a little hair on your head, Kaiba-boy, I did him a favor. His soul belongs to me, and I’ll take very good care of it. Oh, do you not like that idea? How about this…”
He stepped forward, one step, two step, three.
“You win and I’ll release him. You lose, and I’ll take your soul as well. Do we have a deal?”
“…Deal.”
Forgive me, Mokuba. I have failed you. I hurt you in a way I can never fix.
I’ll see you soon, little brother…
Waking up to Yugi looking down at him, his rival’s friends behind him, Mokuba in the arms of the blond one, was not an enjoyable experience. He wasn’t one to be looked down upon; he was the one to look down onto others.
“I’m going to guess you won, Mutou.”
Yugi smiled, put out his hand.
“I think it’s high time you stepped up to the plate and be the brother Mokuba-kun needs.”
Seto grasped it.
“I think so, too.”