Blue Eyes
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Yu-Gi-Oh › General
Rating:
Adult +
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5
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Yu-Gi-Oh › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,656
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Stress Under Pressure
JAPANESE
-sama: Mr.; Mrs.; Ms. (formal)
nan no: what
yen: American version of “en”, which is Japanese currency
kon’nichiwa : hello
-san: Mr.; Mrs.; Ms. (less formal)
hai: yes
Kogyo: Industry (name of band! )
Arigato gozaimasu: thank you (somewhat formal)
-kun: Mr.; Mrs.; (used in addressing younger people or colleagues in place of –san or –sama.)
LJFSOJL;Z;LEOJHOSHDOIJOOOQKOJOSDKFOGJS;KJOAKJ;LFKJSKOFJAO;OK;KJFOKEFJOA;JOEJOFJOLK
Chapter Two – Stress Under Pressure
Mokuba opened his eyes slowly, staring up at the ceiling dispassionately. He didn’t even have to look over to see the hastily written note on his desk to know that Seto was gone again. He didn’t have to reply to the worrisome knocking at his door to know that he was going to be late for school. He didn’t have to answer the vibrating of his cell phone to know that friends were wondering where the Hell he was.
He didn’t need to do a damn thing.
Well, he did, but he could blow it off until tomorrow, right?
Wrong. He needed to get up. There were finals all week and if he missed even a single day he was screwed, and he and the rest of Kogyo were lined up with various interviews for the next six days. Not to mention that with Seto missing, he was now temporary President of the Kaiba Corp. Empire.
This was gonna suck.
SLDKFOXLEINVLZIENLSIENFLKSJLJLKSDJLKFJOINFLJDOIJOWJOPASIOIJLASJFOIJOAKJL
“Kaiba-sama?” asked Seto’s secretary, who was now temporarily working for Mokuba. She treated him exactly as she did Seto, for when under pressure, Mokuba often unsheathed the same biting tongue and fierce yet icy temper his elder brother was known for.
“Nan no?” he snapped viciously, hand automatically covering the mouthpiece he had been speaking into. It was the seventh day of him being in control of both his and Seto’s life, and it had certainly made its toll on the poor seventeen-year-old.
“Er, there is a Yuugi Mouto waiting for you outside. He doesn’t have an appointment but as he is Mouto-sama I just thought—“
“Tell him to keep waiting.” Mokuba continued his conversation on the phone, waving impatiently at the secretary. “Yes, I’m only seventeen. Does that bother you? If I remember correctly, you began working with my brother when he was much younger than I am. I am just as capable as Seto-sama, and I have followed his workings with other companies such as your own since I was a child. I am a very busy person, Yamada-sama, and I have other things to do besides squabble over the subject of youth with you. Now please, are we going to continue this conversation in a way that will award both of us or must I hang up?”
Three minutes later Mokuba made the company quite a bit richer. Seto would have been proud.
Placing the phone back into its cradle he paged Seto’s secretary and asked her to send in Yuugi. A moment later the door opened and in stepped a recently turned twenty-two Yuugi Mouto. “Kon’nichiwa, Mokuba-kun,” he said with a respectful bow.
“Please dear God don’t be formal with me, Yuugi, or I’m gonna hang myself.” Mokuba slumped onto the expansive desk, folding his hands atop his black hair, which he had tried to tame multiple times that week. Needless to say, he had failed, and miserably at that.
Yuugi smiled, sitting comfortably into the seat across from the younger male. “Actually, I came here to talk about that with you.”
“You want to talk about suicide resulting from formality?” Mokuba asked stupidly. He’d never been very good at hard labor, be it physical or mental, and controlling Kaiba Corp., dealing with school, friends, and somehow hanging onto his sort of girlfriend was already starting to become amazingly difficult. Times like these made Mokuba realize why his brother was such a heartless prick.
Yuugi laughed quietly with amusement, but his eyebrows knitted together uncertainly. “Nothing like that. We heard that you were temporary President of Kaiba Corp. again, and well, your brother hasn’t shown up anywhere for a week, and we were just wondering if you’ve heard from him.” The look on Mokuba’s face said enough. “Nothing, huh?”
“Hai. I don’t know where he goes, or why. Every several months he just disappears, and all he leaves me is a note with instructions and one stupid sentence telling me not to worry.” Mokuba laughed shortly. “He’ll probably show up in another three days, and even then he won’t tell me what’s going on. That’s what he always does.”
Yuugi was quiet for a minute. “Is there anything weird about him when he returns? Anything out of the ordinary—for him, I mean.” He was trying to be a little funny, trying to lighten Mokuba’s mood. The youth hardly noticed the humorous tone to Yuugi’s voice.
Mokuba shrugged. “Seto doesn’t have any emotions anymore. I haven’t seen him smile in so long I can’t even remember the last time. He’s just getting—oh I don’t know, colder?”
Just then the phone rang and Mokuba quickly answered. After a few seconds of listening Mokuba began talking very quickly in what sounded like French. Yuugi waited patiently, keeping his gaze politely pointed in another direction until Mokuba was finished.
“Damn it,” Mokuba spat, returning to Japanese as he roughly tossed the phone back into its cradle for the umpteenth time that day.
“Something wrong?” Yuugi asked lightly. The youth moaned and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.
“Business, Yuugi. Just business.” Mokuba looked up at Yuugi, and the latter could see that the youth hadn’t slept in perhaps days, and was holding back much-needed tears.
Yuugi immediately stood. “We’re sorry to have bothered you, Mokuba-kun. We’ll let ourselves out. “He bowed respectfully and headed for the door.
“Yuugi-san?” Mokuba said quietly. Yuugi paused as he heard the boy’s voice crack.
“Hai?”
“. . . Never mind.”
Mokuba, if you ever need anything, we’ll be there, okay?” Yuugi smiled brightly at Mokuba, a hopeful look in his violet eyes. Mokuba returned the gesture, albeit his being small and watery and very, very tired.
“Hai. Arigato gozaimasu, Yuugi-san.”
--
Mokuba fell back into his large and cushy bed—alone. He hadn’t been so excited about being alone in months. That ridiculous woman deserved it too. Too damn greedy and clingy for her own good. He sighed luxuriously and buried himself a little deeper into the pillows. He was a little guilty, he had to admit, but he just needed to not have to deal with anyone for two minutes, otherwise he’d go crazy. And it wasn’t like she wouldn’t forgive him—
What was that sound?
Mokuba immediately sat up, completely alert again. ‘I’ve heard it before,’ He thought vaguely, ‘In a dream . . . . Or a nightmare.’ He stepped out into the corridor, listening intently. There! It echoed through the mansion like the throb of bloodthirsty heart. Like something that needed death.
He followed after the echo, hardly conscious as he passed by a pair of servants who bowed humbly.
Quickly he found himself before the Door. He swallowed and took a few hasty steps back. This was a place no one spoke of, or even thought of, if Seto had his way. It was a place no one was allowed near, no matter what. Not even Mokuba had ever seen what was beyond this point. This was the one place in the entire estate that only Seto was allowed in. At night, the entire underground wing was to be empty regardless of anything that it might conflict with. These were Seto’s orders, and Seto’s orders were Law.
He shouldn’t have come down there, Mokuba scolded himself silently. He shouldn’t be breaking Seto’s Law. Didn’t he have homework to finish before going to sleep? And hadn’t Wakabe-san asked him to call when he got home?
But those thoughts quickly faded from his mind as he heard the echoing cry of thirst once more. Now that he was so close to it it rumbled through his body in a way not all that dissimilar to standing in from of a speaker at an American metal concert. It was a feeling he rather enjoyed when it was appropriate, but when it was coming from an underground and most untouchable door Mokuba was pretty sure lacked anything resembling technology, it just didn’t fell quite as nice.
Reluctantly, and almost hypnotically, Mokuba watched his hand reach for the doorknob. He knew it’d be locked. Seto had such ferocity when it came to the Door that Mokuba could hardly expect little else.
However, the door swung open easily without even the slightest creak.
So much for that little hope.
Ignoring the frantic waves of instinct his subconscious was chucking at him, Mokuba walked through the doorway.
And screamed.
---
Ta da.
-sama: Mr.; Mrs.; Ms. (formal)
nan no: what
yen: American version of “en”, which is Japanese currency
kon’nichiwa : hello
-san: Mr.; Mrs.; Ms. (less formal)
hai: yes
Kogyo: Industry (name of band! )
Arigato gozaimasu: thank you (somewhat formal)
-kun: Mr.; Mrs.; (used in addressing younger people or colleagues in place of –san or –sama.)
LJFSOJL;Z;LEOJHOSHDOIJOOOQKOJOSDKFOGJS;KJOAKJ;LFKJSKOFJAO;OK;KJFOKEFJOA;JOEJOFJOLK
Chapter Two – Stress Under Pressure
Mokuba opened his eyes slowly, staring up at the ceiling dispassionately. He didn’t even have to look over to see the hastily written note on his desk to know that Seto was gone again. He didn’t have to reply to the worrisome knocking at his door to know that he was going to be late for school. He didn’t have to answer the vibrating of his cell phone to know that friends were wondering where the Hell he was.
He didn’t need to do a damn thing.
Well, he did, but he could blow it off until tomorrow, right?
Wrong. He needed to get up. There were finals all week and if he missed even a single day he was screwed, and he and the rest of Kogyo were lined up with various interviews for the next six days. Not to mention that with Seto missing, he was now temporary President of the Kaiba Corp. Empire.
This was gonna suck.
SLDKFOXLEINVLZIENLSIENFLKSJLJLKSDJLKFJOINFLJDOIJOWJOPASIOIJLASJFOIJOAKJL
“Kaiba-sama?” asked Seto’s secretary, who was now temporarily working for Mokuba. She treated him exactly as she did Seto, for when under pressure, Mokuba often unsheathed the same biting tongue and fierce yet icy temper his elder brother was known for.
“Nan no?” he snapped viciously, hand automatically covering the mouthpiece he had been speaking into. It was the seventh day of him being in control of both his and Seto’s life, and it had certainly made its toll on the poor seventeen-year-old.
“Er, there is a Yuugi Mouto waiting for you outside. He doesn’t have an appointment but as he is Mouto-sama I just thought—“
“Tell him to keep waiting.” Mokuba continued his conversation on the phone, waving impatiently at the secretary. “Yes, I’m only seventeen. Does that bother you? If I remember correctly, you began working with my brother when he was much younger than I am. I am just as capable as Seto-sama, and I have followed his workings with other companies such as your own since I was a child. I am a very busy person, Yamada-sama, and I have other things to do besides squabble over the subject of youth with you. Now please, are we going to continue this conversation in a way that will award both of us or must I hang up?”
Three minutes later Mokuba made the company quite a bit richer. Seto would have been proud.
Placing the phone back into its cradle he paged Seto’s secretary and asked her to send in Yuugi. A moment later the door opened and in stepped a recently turned twenty-two Yuugi Mouto. “Kon’nichiwa, Mokuba-kun,” he said with a respectful bow.
“Please dear God don’t be formal with me, Yuugi, or I’m gonna hang myself.” Mokuba slumped onto the expansive desk, folding his hands atop his black hair, which he had tried to tame multiple times that week. Needless to say, he had failed, and miserably at that.
Yuugi smiled, sitting comfortably into the seat across from the younger male. “Actually, I came here to talk about that with you.”
“You want to talk about suicide resulting from formality?” Mokuba asked stupidly. He’d never been very good at hard labor, be it physical or mental, and controlling Kaiba Corp., dealing with school, friends, and somehow hanging onto his sort of girlfriend was already starting to become amazingly difficult. Times like these made Mokuba realize why his brother was such a heartless prick.
Yuugi laughed quietly with amusement, but his eyebrows knitted together uncertainly. “Nothing like that. We heard that you were temporary President of Kaiba Corp. again, and well, your brother hasn’t shown up anywhere for a week, and we were just wondering if you’ve heard from him.” The look on Mokuba’s face said enough. “Nothing, huh?”
“Hai. I don’t know where he goes, or why. Every several months he just disappears, and all he leaves me is a note with instructions and one stupid sentence telling me not to worry.” Mokuba laughed shortly. “He’ll probably show up in another three days, and even then he won’t tell me what’s going on. That’s what he always does.”
Yuugi was quiet for a minute. “Is there anything weird about him when he returns? Anything out of the ordinary—for him, I mean.” He was trying to be a little funny, trying to lighten Mokuba’s mood. The youth hardly noticed the humorous tone to Yuugi’s voice.
Mokuba shrugged. “Seto doesn’t have any emotions anymore. I haven’t seen him smile in so long I can’t even remember the last time. He’s just getting—oh I don’t know, colder?”
Just then the phone rang and Mokuba quickly answered. After a few seconds of listening Mokuba began talking very quickly in what sounded like French. Yuugi waited patiently, keeping his gaze politely pointed in another direction until Mokuba was finished.
“Damn it,” Mokuba spat, returning to Japanese as he roughly tossed the phone back into its cradle for the umpteenth time that day.
“Something wrong?” Yuugi asked lightly. The youth moaned and rubbed his bloodshot eyes.
“Business, Yuugi. Just business.” Mokuba looked up at Yuugi, and the latter could see that the youth hadn’t slept in perhaps days, and was holding back much-needed tears.
Yuugi immediately stood. “We’re sorry to have bothered you, Mokuba-kun. We’ll let ourselves out. “He bowed respectfully and headed for the door.
“Yuugi-san?” Mokuba said quietly. Yuugi paused as he heard the boy’s voice crack.
“Hai?”
“. . . Never mind.”
Mokuba, if you ever need anything, we’ll be there, okay?” Yuugi smiled brightly at Mokuba, a hopeful look in his violet eyes. Mokuba returned the gesture, albeit his being small and watery and very, very tired.
“Hai. Arigato gozaimasu, Yuugi-san.”
--
Mokuba fell back into his large and cushy bed—alone. He hadn’t been so excited about being alone in months. That ridiculous woman deserved it too. Too damn greedy and clingy for her own good. He sighed luxuriously and buried himself a little deeper into the pillows. He was a little guilty, he had to admit, but he just needed to not have to deal with anyone for two minutes, otherwise he’d go crazy. And it wasn’t like she wouldn’t forgive him—
What was that sound?
Mokuba immediately sat up, completely alert again. ‘I’ve heard it before,’ He thought vaguely, ‘In a dream . . . . Or a nightmare.’ He stepped out into the corridor, listening intently. There! It echoed through the mansion like the throb of bloodthirsty heart. Like something that needed death.
He followed after the echo, hardly conscious as he passed by a pair of servants who bowed humbly.
Quickly he found himself before the Door. He swallowed and took a few hasty steps back. This was a place no one spoke of, or even thought of, if Seto had his way. It was a place no one was allowed near, no matter what. Not even Mokuba had ever seen what was beyond this point. This was the one place in the entire estate that only Seto was allowed in. At night, the entire underground wing was to be empty regardless of anything that it might conflict with. These were Seto’s orders, and Seto’s orders were Law.
He shouldn’t have come down there, Mokuba scolded himself silently. He shouldn’t be breaking Seto’s Law. Didn’t he have homework to finish before going to sleep? And hadn’t Wakabe-san asked him to call when he got home?
But those thoughts quickly faded from his mind as he heard the echoing cry of thirst once more. Now that he was so close to it it rumbled through his body in a way not all that dissimilar to standing in from of a speaker at an American metal concert. It was a feeling he rather enjoyed when it was appropriate, but when it was coming from an underground and most untouchable door Mokuba was pretty sure lacked anything resembling technology, it just didn’t fell quite as nice.
Reluctantly, and almost hypnotically, Mokuba watched his hand reach for the doorknob. He knew it’d be locked. Seto had such ferocity when it came to the Door that Mokuba could hardly expect little else.
However, the door swung open easily without even the slightest creak.
So much for that little hope.
Ignoring the frantic waves of instinct his subconscious was chucking at him, Mokuba walked through the doorway.
And screamed.
---
Ta da.