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He could hear Battleship creak around him, knew each sound of it with an intimate awareness, and knew that the last escape from Noa's fortress had been trying on it. Seto focused on his personal digital assistant, tapping mutely at the palm pad, even as he strode through the corridors and listened to each groan of the airship.
He tapped a short sequence into the pad with an unnecessary, painful precision, and sank into a nearby couch, rubbing at his eyes.
That escape had been trying; his skull ached, mind straining like tensed machinery- Normally it was a quick, fluid thing; reliable and precise as a steel trap. Now, he felt as though each thought had rusted over, sticking to each other and complicating routine checks. The line of his thoughts piling up like cars on a motorway; some compilation error in the wet of his brain. He was reading the same sentence, over and over and-
He flicked a finger tip over the palm pilot, and rubbed at his eyes once more, "Lights down," The room obediently dimmed the lights, and with it, his headache faded from a raw clawing sensation to a faint scratch.
There was the four way duel system to review, the endless inspections required of duel tower, not to mention that heavy feeling in his stomach about whether or not to eliminate Alcatraz. The chargers were certainly in place, but after the unexpected events of Virtual World, Seto was less sure. The uncertainty welled up within him, clogged and cluttered his mind, and he felt slow, he felt saturated and wrung out, felt like whining metal-
That escape had been trying on the airship, pulling at its pieces and prying at its engine. Judging by its sound, he'd need to guarantee the arrival of an alternative method of transport; there was no way Battleship was dragging anybody home. Battleship was ragged, dead on its feet, head pounding, hands shaking too hard to properly hold the wretched palm pad. In no condition whatsoever to do anything, let alone duel.
He couldn't remember when dueling had become so hard. Sometime after facing Yuugi perhaps? Or later when Pegasus had held Mokuba as the stakes? Of course, it would be hard then - business was a game too, but when his brother was on the line, it became stressful. Now that Duel Monsters was the same, should it be any wonder it was hard?
Seto twirled the stylus in his hand, and watched, as though from a great distance, when he fumbled it. The pen tool clattered somewhere out of sight, and he peered at his hand as though it were somehow at fault. A throat was cleared by the door, and he jolted looking up towards the voice.
"Something bothering you?" Jounouchi Katsuya was pressed up against the doorway, and Seto squinted at the light coming in from the corridor.
The question glitched somewhere in Seto's skull.
"Pardon?"
"Asked if there's something bothering you?" Jounouchi nodded at Seto's hand, and he looked back at it dimly. Finally, Jounouchi shuffled into Seto's room, and the door mumbled shut behind him, "You're like- just staring at your hand."
Placing the palm pilot onto the table in front of him, Seto rubbed the offending hand over his face, before pulling it away as though he'd burnt his fingerprints away, "Not to worry," He got to his feet, resisting the urge to stretch out his legs, "Some work to do, but it will be finished well before we land, sir," He tilted his head cautiously, "Was there something bothering you?"
"I'm calling bullshit," Jounouchi dropped into seat across from Seto, slinging his arm over the back of it.
"Bullshit?" Seto's arms folded over his chest, and he glared down at the intruder.
"Bullshit," Jounouchi nodded, and pointed a lazy finger at Seto, "You just called me sir, so you can sit on down right there," His finger pointed downwards, indicating for Seto to sit, "And we can talk."
"To you?" Seto resumed his seat slowly, legs quivering with exhaustion.
A nod, "Yep, to me."
"What are you doing here?"
Jounouchi looked off to the side, even as he stretched out even further in Seto's chair, "Needed an update for Mai."
"Ah - Miss Kujaku," Seto felt his voice trail off, "Yes," He reached forward to take his palm pilot, and Jounouchi leaned in to pull it away from him, "Excuse me?"
"You're fried," Jounouchi left the pad out of Seto's reach, and leaned back once more, "Or something?" A quick, economic shrug, "I've been to see Mai, and you've sent for medical backup stuff, thing, right?" Seto felt himself nod, the movement tense and jerking, "Alright. Good. What's eating you?"
"Mokuba," Jounouchi didn't appear to have been expecting an answer; Seto certainly hadn't expected an answer to a question he'd barely formulated, and as Jounouchi shifted in his spot, Seto cleared his throat, "It has been a more taxing tournament that I initially presumed," With that, Seto reached for his handheld, "Now will you-"
"Yeah yeah, in a bit," Jounouchi scooted the palm device further away from him, and Seto glowered, "Mokuba, huh?"
"Of course," Seto answered testily, heart thrumming like a startled animal, "We were very nearly all killed, including-"
"You can handle that," Jounouchi said dismissively, before smiling nervously at Seto. He realized, belatedly, unwillingly, that his entire body had tensed, leaning forward in anger, "I meant if Mokuba is in danger, you save him," Seto inclined his head, and Jounouchi clicked his finger pointedly, "That's easy isn't it? Maybe not to do, but, it won't tear you up," A low chuckle, "Maybe everything else, but-"
"I almost lost him," Seto leaned back, his folded arms loosening and dropping to his sides. He picked at the fabric of the couch, "Not- It was- I-" He tried to clear his throat, but whatever was in the way wouldn't be moved, couldn't be worried loose; it stuck there, jammed between his thoughts, "Because of me."
He tried to laugh, shove Jounouchi from his room with sheer derision. Bar him from the worrying fractured feeling at his sternum. Instead Jounouchi looked at him so pityingly, Seto curled forward, head tipping into his hands, coughing painfully under his breath. Somewhere in the haze of his short-circuiting mind, and criss-crossed thoughts, he realized it was confirmation. Jounouchi pitied him because he had done this to himself. He'd pushed himself out of necessity, and pushed Mokuba away out of it, and none it came far too close to loss. The idea lit up greasy areas in the corner of Seto's mind, and now the memories were ablaze, the flames licking at the inside of his skull and eating at his thoughts.
When he spoke next, he spoke slowly, the quick flicker of his intelligence uncurling before the fire, "I've allowed myself to alienate him," It was a weak excuse at self-pity, too drowned in heart broken, "I did this."
"Enough of that," Jounouchi snapped, "Mokuba ain't stupid."
The thought had never occurred to Seto, and he peered at Jounouchi, dropping his hands to the table, "What?"
A snort, "Well you're not," Jounouchi tipped his head back, arms folding over his chest as he did so, "Stupid that is; Mokuba's like you. Not stupid, bit- bit young, sure, sweet kid - heh - but not stupid."
"Of course he isn't..." The thought would never have occurred to Seto.
"Well he understands better than you think," Jounouchi stated firmly, "Maybe you did do- uh," He laughed, haplessly wringing his hands. Honestly, he laughed too much, "You are a cold-blooded bastard, and that's all on you, yeah, but you're not that cold, but besides the point," He waved a hand, as though he hadn't just insulted Seto, but then it didn't feel like an insult, and it was true, "Sure you're the one who did that, but Mokuba does actually get it. Kids get plenty of things you don't think they do."
With another laugh, this one more confident, Jounouchi gestured at Seto.
"Look at you. You'd have understood why you're the way you are, or uh," Jounouchi scratched at his cheek, "Well you'd get it, and Mokuba gets it too," He huffed loudly, "Your brother isn't glossing over what you've done, he just forgives you for it, alright?" Another small laugh, this one even more gentle, reaching across to lay his hand over Seto's. It brought surprising comfort, and he froze up, "Sides, you're sweet on your brother; it's probably your best feature."
"Thank you," Seto stated dryly, and looked down at the floor, and repeated himself. This time it was a grateful admission, "Thank you."
"I'm serious," Jounouchi insisted, "Mokuba loves you, and he knows what you've done for him-" A surprisingly delicate pause, "What you've done to yourself for him. He understands it. Understands why..." Jounouchi squeezed Seto's hand, "Do...Do you understand?"
"Yes," Seto nodded stiltedly, hand shifting under Jounouchi's.
"Kaiba," Jounouchi repeated determinedly, "It's really important you understand," Seto looked up at Jounouchi, expression left open and eyes searching uncertainly, "You," He paused, "You are a good brother."
The tension didn't drain from Seto's shoulders, but slid from his face, settled in his tightening fingers, "I understand."
"Good," With that Jounouchi released Seto's hand, and he withdrew it, flexing it self-consciously.
At first, Seto moved to reach for his tablet, before leaning back, tensing still rattling lowly through him. Some sense of propriety still remained in him, and he looked at Jounouchi with a frankness he could barely manage, "Congratulations on making it to the semi-finals," Tipping his head, Jounouchi's brows furrowed in confusion, "Of Battle City," Seto clarified, shrugging uncomfortably when he realized how patronizing it was. He could have bitten his tongue, and probably congratulated Jounouchi better, "I may not think highly of your style, but the results are undeniable; two major competitions in the space of a year."
"Oh well, when you've got someone to fight for, that's when you do your best, right?"
Jounouchi laughed nervously, and Seto quickly moved the conversation along, eager to escape his earlier vulnerability, "Your sister, right? Her cataract surgery."
"That's right," Jounouchi nodded, colouring slightly, "Yuugi gave me his prize money for her operation."
"Oh," Seto blinked, fingers twitching for the palm pilot and its direct link to knowledge, "I assumed that's what you entered Battle City for," He coloured, "I apologize."
A smirk traipsed over Jounouchi's features, giving them a cynicism Seto hadn't expected, "For not knowing my personal life too well?"
"I make a point of knowing about the people in my competitions."
"So you did know Malik was gonna' be trouble," Jounouchi's smirk faded into a thin frown, eyes flashing, and Seto felt an odd tangle of shame somewhere in the pit of his stomach; defensive and sour.
"I didn't know who the real Malik was; I thought the other man was who he claimed to be," Seto looked down at the table, "And I didn't know Malik was mentally disturbed."
I didn't know what he would do to Mai Kujaku. God knows what he's done to Ryou Bakura.
The disappointment in Jounouchi's face faded, and the clench in Seto's guts lightened, unknotting and smoothing over, "To be fair, I don't think Malik knew either. Well," He amended thoughtfully, "From what his sister said, he had no idea he was that messed up."
"Is that so?" Seto tipped his head, tapping his fingers on his arm, "His sister certainly plays her cards close. I think we all would have appreciated that information. Including Malik himself, I'd wager."
Jounouchi shrugged, "She's just protecting him, from himself, maybe. It's a pain, but I get it - you get it," He stared at Seto, brown eyes wide and calculating in a way Seto wasn't sure of, "Don't you?"
"I- I suppose I do," He cleared his throat, swallowing around the fragility of his emotions. He pushed past it, "Your sister's operation has been very successful, I take it."
"Yep," Jounouchi grinned, "No problems, or nothing. Very quick recovery," He laughed, low, voice fizzling, "I guess you get what you pay for, right?"
Seto nodded, "Right," He resumed tapping his fingers in thought, "So who are you fighting for?"
That question seemed to whip right over Jounouchi's head, embedding somewhere in a far-off wall.
"Huh?"
"You said when you have someone to fight for," He gestured with a hand towards Jounouchi, "I assumed it was your sister."
"Well, it was."
"For Duelist Kingdom," Seto sighed patiently, "It may have escaped your notice, but you're participating in Battle City currently," He looked off towards the window, "Perhaps I stepped out of line."
"Oh- Nah," There was a soft snort of amusement, "We're having a regular old heart to heart here, no problem; I want the prize money. Well, I want to win too, but I'd like to win the prize money," Jounouchi leaned back in his spot, staring up at the ceiling, "My work isn't covering as much as I'd hoped it would, and the Kingdom money is kinda' running low. I'd go look for a more permanent job, but I can't go over so-and-so hours - school policy - but uh, contest money is a'okay, so?"
"I wasn't aware you were independent," Seto's eyebrows raised, "You're listed as-" He froze, before closing his eyes and continuing slowly, "You're listed as living with your father," Sighing, he opened his eyes, gaze sliding away from Jounouchi; focus slippery at best, "I apologize, I have trouble not memorizing this stuff."
"Must be nice," Jounouchi decided diplomatically, "And yeah, the old man is the someone I was talking about," A tactless shrug of the shoulders, "He's too drunk to get work these days," He pulled a face, twisting unhappily, "Hey, no," Eyes shining, and mouth set, Jounouchi straightened, "It's not like that."
Seto tried to compose himself, "Well, what is it like, then?"
"It's not his fault," Jounouchi snapped, "He's not a bad parent."
"I hate to sound dubious, but you shouldn't be the primary income source at sixteen," Seto clicked his tongue, "Especially because your father is 'too drunk' to support you."
"Like you can talk," A quick-flash roll of the eyes, "Don't you have custody of Mokuba, too?"
"My parents are dead," Seto reminded Jounouchi, the raw grief rubbing at his ribcage, "That's not their fault."
"Well, it's not my dad's fault either," Jounouchi defended, face flushing when Seto tipped his head, "Well, some of it is his fault, but that's a really narrow way of looking at it."
"I don't understand," He decided finally, "But I apologize," He waited a moment, studying the anger in every inch of Jounouchi's body, "And I would like to understand, if you're willing to-"
"It's fine," Jounouchi folded his arms over his chest, fists clenched, "My Dad's been on temp work for as long as I can remember. You ought to know how that goes, business man and all?"
"Very few contractual obligations, few long-term employment options, low-pay-"
"They don't treat you like a human being," Jounouchi stated firmly, "Definitely don't pay you like one."
"No," Seto nodded, "They don't."
Jonouchi's eyes narrowed, "Mum left; wanted more from life than he could give."
Seto couldn't help himself, scowling despite everything, "That seems cruel."
"It is, but I get it," Jounouchi shrugged, "I really do get it - I mean I didn't at first, but now? I see why she left," He sighed, sounding not resigned, but light with some acquired wisdom, "It hurt him bad though."
"And your father turned to alcohol in his grief," Seto finished, and Jounouchi shook his head, snorting coldly.
"No. He's depressed," Jounouchi looked off to the side, "It happens. A lot of the time, he doesn't get out of bed; just stares up at the ceiling. When he does get up, he drinks. Says it makes him sad, I guess it doesn't matter why," He focused back on Seto, "It's not his fault, alright, he tried - but you can't try forever. Sometimes you keep drawing the wrong card, and you lose the game and that isn't his fault," He took a deep breath, "Someone has to take care of him, and that's what I do."
Admiration caught in Seto's throat, almost choking him, and it was only with careful swallowing that he could talk past it.
"You could leave," He pointed it out slowly, mouth working round the words.
"No, I really couldn't," Jounouchi answered without missing a beat, words coming easily to him, "Just like you couldn't leave Mokuba. Someone needs to take care of him, and that's what I do."
Gradually, quietly, nerves rattling, Seto reached his hand across the table for Jounouchi. Just as haltingly, Jounouchi reached out in return and Seto felt their fingers brush. The comfort stretched between them, uncomfortable but not dissimilar; two children stripped of their childhoods and made parents too young, and too soon.
"Kaiba Corp," He started suddenly, words tumbling forth in a practiced series of statements, "Funnels almost 14% of our net earnings into either in-house charitable branches, or various approved charities. Our focus is primarily on children with absent or incompetent parental-
"I am not a charity case," Jounouchi snarled, hand yanking away from Seto's, "You still don't understand; poverty doesn't destroy people, hopelessness does," He stood up, chair squawking as it was shoved aside, "I'm here to earn it - I couldn't with Shizuka, I tried, but I couldn't, and she needed the surgery sooner not later...but I haven't lost Battle City yet," At this Jounouchi's anger flared up, "You don't think I can win, huh? Well, I'll-"
"I didn't mean that," Seto growled out, fighting not to leap to his own feet. Instead he held still, staring balefully up at Jounouchi, "I'm trying to offer you a job," He shifted in his spot, whilst Jounouchi stared down at him. He struggled over the words, like they were pointy and difficult to reason with, "As- I said, we do a lot of charity work. I could use your help," He snorted, gesturing at himself, "People skills aren't my strong suit, but you had me talking about my relationship with Mokuba - about my parents - I need people like that," At this Seto reached for his handheld assistant, "Who can talk to kids," He looked up at Jounouchi, "Mokuba likes you, I think."
"You think," Jounouchi repeated, squinting.
"Well, he seems to," Seto squinted back, picking up the device, "But also someone who understands those sorts of problems. Communicates them."
"Talking to kids doesn't mean I get how to put it in business terms," Jounouchi laughed, "Honestly, I'd be better hired as a bodyguard. I'm just muscle."
"If you wanted," He raised his eyebrows, blinking, "But you explained a situation - the needs of the people involved - to me, and as I said, you had me open up. That's not easy."
Jounouchi shook his head, "I caught you in a vulnerable moment - it's different."
"You used the situation to its advantage," Seto declared firmly, "As you said, sometimes you keep drawing the wrong card, but you do eventually have to play what you're dealt. That takes skill too."
"I basically drew a Blue-Eyes White Dragon," Jounouchi scoffed.
"Are you suggesting using a Blue-Eyes effectively doesn't take skill?" Seto asked silkily, and Jounouchi looked stricken, "I was joking," Seto clarified awkwardly, getting to his feet and dusting his coat down. He flicked the device on, "I'll need a contact-"
"You're so sure you want to work with me?"
"Positive."
"And that I want to work with you?"
He shrugged, "The pay's good, the work's good; why wouldn't you?" He paused, before adding, "Better than yakuza foot work on both counts. I understand doing abominable things for those you love, but surely you wouldn't choose-"
"You really do know everything," Jounouchi decided, folding his arms back across his front.
Seto laughed, a little too much for his liking, "I don't - that's why I want to hire you," He looked back at his palm pilot, and frowned, peering at the stylus holder, "Where's-"
"Just use your hands," Jounouchi grinned, tucking his hands into his pockets and scuffing his foot with a casual, comfortable air Seto didn't know a thing about, "It's easier, anyway."