State of Mind

PAIRING(S): Seto + Mokuba

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS: Grey-san, Corvin-san, Field-san and the Kravans.

SPOILERS: None really, since the plot is most likely more AU than anything else.

SUMMARY: Mokuba is now 15 years old and has grown into a confident young man. In the years since Secrets that Remain Mokuba has become aware of Seto's game and the brothers have become inseparably close. Yet many secrets still remain. As the eve of Mokuba's 16th birthday nears, a new and unusual tension is in the air.
What lies beneath the surface of happy days and silent nights? When the demons of the past will not die, how does one continue to live? "This ephemeral peace will one day shatter and all shall fall away...”

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yuugiou nor am I making any money from this story. Please give appropriate support toward Yuugiou's mangaka Takahashi Kazuki.

*****WARNINGS: PLEASE NOTE that this story contains direct mention and some description of sexual/mental child abuse between two males. This content is portrayed as a damaging, terrible act of violation toward a child as any type of child abuse is; however, if this subject offends you in ANY way, please do not read.

Contains Yaoi/MalexMale/Homosexual and incestuous situations, mature language, mention of attempted suicide, and various other not nice things.

-Blood.

---Chapter 04---


It is ridiculously unfair to suffer from insomnia and still be able to dream. Staying awake should be a cure for one's nightmares, but this `dreaming awake' easily destroyed that assumption. Some might call these spells hallucinations, but Kaiba Seto was not ready to admit something like that. An over-active imagination induced by the beginning of a panic attack, maybe, but not something as crazy as hallucinations.

Seto lay silently in the large bath, his arms spread atop the sides, his head resting far back against the cool tile border. The once burning water was smooth as crystal, cooling around him rapidly. His eyes were closed, the orbs beneath shifting gently, the images playing beneath the folds of skin mesmerizing Seto as if holding him captive. How he wished only darkness resided behind closed eyes.

His chest heaved upward slowly in a strained breath, his lips barely parting. So fresh was the memory that its edge had not dulled in the least; it still cut too deep. Visions of broken glass, of fragility and a pain so intense as to dull all sense of self- preservation invaded Seto. He remembered sitting on his knees, the dull smell of gun-smoke and fresh blood assaulting his senses. His hands searched the floor, cutting his fingers and knees, unable to feel the glass over the pain in his chest. It hurt; his heart hurt so badly. He could not breathe or think, only feel his emotions twisting him apart as he clutched to the shattered treasure in his bleeding hands. The dim lighting shifted around him, the corners of his vision blurring. He would break as well.

He felt the world around him fracture as his lips drew back, his lungs pulling desperate breathe between clenched teeth. He barely noticed when light invaded his darkness, a single line from his now open door that widened as it opened further. Seto could only stare at the figure who met his eyes from the doorway. It was an angel, taking flight across a bridge of light, reaching for him. Trembling lips parted to speak a single name…

Seto realized quite suddenly that he could not breathe. Sensibly, he stopped holding his breath. Azure eyes opened, weary from lack of sleep and nostalgic heartache. He sighed, leaning forward to splash cool water across his face and into his hair, repeating several times before standing. He stepped carefully from the water, drying off insufficiently and placing the cloth about his waist. This room was not where he wanted to be. Swiftly, the brunette exited the shower room, bypassing his closet to slump randomly into the computer chair at his desk. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers interlaced in front of a bowed head. Deep intake of air, slow release; repeat. He must calm his nerves or this would continue. He would not mind getting no sleep, if he could at least rest his mind and find a little peace.

His hopes proved too much as he raised his eyes to see the raven-haired cherub that stood before him. All smiles and energy, the 12 year old Mokuba was watching Seto, his expression foreshadowing something important. His small arms were curved behind his back and he seemed ready to burst. The young boy came forward and revealed a simple, wrapped box from his back, holding it out to Seto nervously.

Yes, he had been sitting right here…

`Happy Birthday, Nii-sama,' the phantom said. Seto tasted panic when the younger version of himself reached out from his chair to take the box. With a shaky breath, Seto stared down at himself opening the wrapping to reveal the most perfect piece of art. Its base was no more than 13 cm in diameter, a magnificently painted carving holding a round ball of glass. The snow globe sat atop a jagged cliff, violent waves attacking the base. The cliff-top itself was also inside the glass, acting as a perch for yet another art piece. Blue-Eyes White Dragon had his talons set into the stone, its three heads all showing different expressions as it bent low to the cliff with its wings spread majestically outward. A warrior dressed in black and gold armor, his face covered by a metal visor, stood proudly upon the dragon's back, sword out and pointing forward as if on some noble quest. The warrior had barely visible dark brown hair.

He turned it upside down and shook it slightly, watching the prismatic flecks sink down over the figures like ambrosia rain. He was speechless, staring at every detail of the fine, glass figures encased in the snow globe.

"Beautiful…" he said without reservation, his eyes still riveted to the gift of his memories. He still found its beauty hypnotic, even if the vision was not real. The exquisite present was merely a thing of the past now, the delicate figures and the proud exterior broken and ruined by a moment of blind rage and unbearable consequence.

His eyes met the dark grey delight of a proud young boy, raven hair partially concealing a smiling face. Lost to the moment, Seto extended a single arm. His fingers touched air as he attempted to brush the shadows from his memory's face. The moment shattered, the figure cracking between the eyes and down the middle of a delicate nose. Seto could not bear to watch this to the end, bowing his head low again and covering damp brown hair with his hands. He heard glass hit the floor and then all was silent. His hands clenched tightly.

One night. A single, peaceful night to rest his mind; that was all he wanted. These visions tormented the brunette, every night changing, switching between situations. It would never end with all the options available to bring forth. It was similar to having post- cognition; every spot in this mansion having its own story to tell, and too loudly.

He glanced up slowly, dark eyes apprehensively searching the apparently empty room. He swallowed, sitting his back fully against the back of the leather seat. He released a shaky breath.

This memory had been slightly old, but it connected to another, all too fresh incident. For nearly four years, the priceless gift had set safely in Seto's room. His brother had boasted the snow globe to be one of a kind, absolutely original since it was based upon the design Mokuba had described to the makers.

"There will never be another. I made sure," the blushing youth had said. He turned anxious gray eyes up to his brother, watching the speechless brunette's reaction to his present. Long fingers stroked the textured stone, the cool glass surrounding the warrior and his beloved dragon.

"Mokuba…this…" Seto began, but his voice faltered.

"Do you like it?"

"More than any gift I've ever received," Seto extended his arm, inviting the youth into his lap where he let him hold the masterpiece. "You came up with the design?" he asked belatedly.

Mokuba nodded, fingering the present in his lap, "With what you've taught me about three-dimensional graphics, and my own… mediocre drawing abilities, it wasn't so hard to get my idea across. The game pictures helped, too." He grinned sheepishly, "Do you really like it? I didn't know what to get you at first. You can have anything you wish, whenever you want. So I figured I'd have to give you something that didn't exist until now."

Seto chuckled at that, "Really now? You clever devil," he declared, ruffling the teen's already messy hair. His expression softened, his fingers brushing away black strands from Mokuba's eyes, "But Mokuba, anything you get me is always precious. You know that, so don't worry about it so much. As long as you're here for my birthday, I couldn't be happier." He paused, watching silver eyes look away as if he'd heard this for the thousandth time. Seto smiled, "I love this though. I'll keep it always."

Mokuba had instantly looked up, cheeks rosy, eyes glistening and alight with glee at the sound of his efforts being praised. His smiling face would always remain etched into the brunette's memories, for that moment was one of indescribable peace. The gift became, in Seto's mind, the physical embodiment of the bond he and Mokuba shared. It was a sacred, ethereal item that proved their love and importance to one another.

Seto covered his face with his hands, pressing the smooth pads hard against pale flesh. He could not stand it. That beautiful artifact had seemed invincible; it would last forever through the tests of time, just as his love for Mokuba. Optimism, assumption, perhaps even naivety. For this, he was guilty of all three.

He raised his head, anger directed at himself stoked by the self-accusations. It was indeed the truth, but this would not do. He would be a nervous-wreck by the time he went into work if this did not stop. Sitting up straight and pulling in large, mouthfuls of slow breath, Seto forced his mind to settle. He opened his eyes wide as they darted about the room, as if daring anymore ghosts of the past to appear. `No more bullshit,' they seemed to radiate; spoken words were not needed.

When no more little surprises ambushed him, Seto finally eased his eyes, blinking with relief and letting out a slow breath. There now, he could finally get to work on something that didn't make him suicidal.

He turned toward his computer, keying in the password for his simple screensaver before bringing up a folder of unfinished projects. Most of them were only days, some, hours, old. Nothing was left unattended very long when it came to Kaiba Seto.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, setting up the programs he would need to start on the most prominent file. He only stopped when a chill ran across his naked back. He suddenly felt very exposed, his towel draping carelessly over his lap, his scarred body uncovered for the world to see. He needed to dress, and quickly, before he could even start to work earnestly.

When he returned to the computer, he was reminded of something and he opened his email account, typing up a quick letter to an old business associate. When finished, it was sent away just as quickly. Seto soon lost himself in the workload before him.

The next time Seto glimpsed the time, it was already 6:10 am. `Damn. Forty minutes past schedule,' he thought with a scowl. The lost time didn't really bother him, he was grateful for the distraction, but because extra time was unplanned, it annoyed him. Mokuba would be up for school shortly. He always made sure to spend breakfast with his brother, especially on days when Mokuba was not scheduled to work; it meant Seto would not get to see the teen anywhere near as often as he'd like.

A small frown lit the brunette's lips as his hands ceased typing finally. He could not just turn off the project, however. A thorough—though quick—check for excellence was needed, his eyes working rapidly over the computer screen.

All seemed in order; only one mistake in the programming, which he fixed immediately. Though this was only the very beginning of the production stage, Seto felt confident the new virtual game before him would be a hit. He usually knew during the preliminary programming and world design if the game would sell; if he felt unsatisfied early on, the ideas were scrapped without delay. It must have a powerful influence and demand his eager attentions from stage one.

With that finished, Seto shut down all programs and put the screensaver back up. He didn't like even Mokuba burrowing into his projects before they were well underway. It irked him horribly, as if he were being spied on in his most personal moments.

He stood up from the chair, stretching. He winced as his shoulders popped noisily. 6:19 a.m. He really was off schedule. He glanced at the desk phone, as if expecting it to do something. When the clock hit 6:20, it complied, ringing piercingly and demanding attention from the blue-eyed human watching it idly. It did not even make it through one ring, before Seto had it pressed to his ear. `Right on time.'

"Kaiba Seto speaking," he said evenly, the edge of his mouth curving into a smug little smirk. He knew who it was before answering, which really had nothing to do with the caller ID—it said Unknown, anyway.

"Kaiba-san," the strong voice at the other end replied, "Kravan Ira, here."

"I can tell by the voice, Kravan-san, good to hear from you," the brunette said conversationally.

A short, hearty laugh echoed across the phone line, "Of course, it's been too long, Seto," the man said, casually using the CEO's first name.

Seto did not seem to mind, repaying the friendly respect, "Yes, too long, Ira." There was a pause on either side of the line, both businessmen wishing to get on with the point of this call. Neither was very interested in wasting their time. "Ira, you received my email, I take it."

"Yes, what is this request you speak of? I might be able to help you," he said, his voice inquiring.

"Ambrosia," Seto spoke simply. "I am in need of your island again. Of course, I will make the price worth your while."

"For Mokuba-san's birthday," Ira said confidently. "A good reason, I understand. However, surely Seto, you understand I was reluctant to allow you a single week on my Ambrosia."

"Understood, assuredly; I respect your reluctance, and I am grateful for the original week. My brother and I loved it immensely." Seto was all sincerity and compliments and ready to bargain. "Therefore, I will abide by any restrictions you set on our secondary visit, as well as grant you any favor in kind. Kaiba Corporations© is at your service. Name your price, Ira, and I will provide more." Silence on the opposite end brought the brunettes smirk up a level; he had won, if the older man could not make a quick come-back.

"Seto, you have an impish way with words," Ira grumbled.

Ira sat within his own estate, one of even more grandiose size and design than the Kaibas'. The private property went on for miles, lush greenery and beautiful landscaping abound. In the middle of it all, Ira resided, sitting in his chair on a grand, flawless deck, sipping wine from a crystal glass as he chatted with his long-time associate.

Despite his apparent disinclination, Ira was pleased with the young CEO. He was great fun to talk to, always with his sharp, unyielding attitude and never-ending confidence. His red hair was starting to thin as he grew older, and though his wife beautiful, wonderful wife had never provided him with a child, he felt a little like a father. Seto and his brother were young and without family; they relied on each other. So, Ira enjoyed, just a bit, letting Seto get his way, even if he made him work for it.

The brothers reminded Ira of his relationship with his own older brother. Even after so many years, Roy was still an integral part of Ira's life. Roy, his wife and his sons, Ira's nephews, visited often. This was good for several reasons. He loved his brother dearly and it was important that they stayed in touch. Especially since those nephews would be the ones to inherit everything from both brothers.

Ira sighed in defeat, "All right, Seto, I'll allow it. One week on Ambrosia." He was really smiling as he added, "But don't expect me to be so lenient if you need it again. You'll have to bargain your company away."

Seto laughed shortly, "I'll remember that. Thank you very much, Ira."

"Remember, you can stay in the house if you wish, but the upstairs is off limits," his grin grew feral, his voice darkening, "I keep the cameras on up there constantly when I am away, that way I can know when some little rat has gone where they should not." Another small chuckle, "You understand; those room are sacred," he said more kindly.

Seto understood perfectly well. The island itself had been prepared as a honeymoon getaway for Ira and his young wife years ago. The mansion on the island was even named for the unnaturally lovely Mrs. Kravan, dubbed Aphrodite's Residence. They had spent what Ira had once described as the greatest time of his life on that island. The second story consisted of only a few large rooms, one being, of course, the main bedroom. Seto had never seen this level, nor did he wish to ever see it. He had no right. Both sacred and tragic, those rooms held the memory of first advances made by a new husband and blushing bride. Memories of laughter and carefree lovemaking that would never be stained even after it was discovered the kind Mrs. Kravan was unable to bear children.

The island should have been reserved for family, but Seto never questioned when the older man gave in finally. He was correct in his guess at the motives behind the kindness. Being thought of as family by the man did not bother Seto; he simply never mentioned it, knowing Ira would do the same.

Seto smiled, "I will not even touch the stairs," he assured. He looked at the clock—6:41 a.m.—and decided to stop the chit- chat. "Forgive me for cutting this short, Ira, but I must prepare for work. We can work out the details another time."

"Of course; then I must go as well. Goodbye, Kaiba-san."

"Goodbye, Kravan-san," Seto replied, ending on a formal note.

Seto was soon dressed and downstairs, entering the kitchen and feeling a little annoyed that he had not been down sooner. Regardless, his reasons were excusable. So, when he entered the kitchen after Mokuba for once, he had a reason to smile and disregard any worries for his abnormal lateness.

"Morning, Nii-sama," the teen said, eyeing the late-comer, a slight tired note to his words. Mokuba had never been as accustomed to getting up early.

"Good morning, Mokuba." He sat down at the table. He did not even have to motion for the cook to bring him his food, as the bowls and utensils were set up elegantly before him. She would be the only house employee in the mansion until 9:00 a.m., when the others would arrive to clean. Seto was not worried over the petite woman being alone to do as she pleased. Important doors were locked and every security camera would be turned on, inside and out.

"I have good news," he announced before touching his food. He was still debating if he would eat at all. Mokuba perked up, waiting for Seto to continue. "Ambrosia is ours again for your week," he said with an obvious smile.

Silvery blue eyes widened perceptively, "Seriously? Awesome! I can't wait to go back." He momentarily forgot about his own food, his expression alive with memories and thoughts of returning to that incredible atmosphere. When he noticed Seto watching him, Mokuba reddened slightly, returning to his meal.

Seto nibbled at his own breakfast, knowing he should get something in his system. A thought struck him after a few minutes of listening to the clicking of Mokuba's chopsticks.

"What are you doing after school?"

Mokuba looked up again, chopsticks pausing between his lips, before swallowing slowly. Whoops. He had forgotten to tell Seto about his plans. It wasn't his fault, work had been busy and Seto hadn't gotten home until so late. He cleared his throat, "I'm shopping with Yuugi and everyone for the sleepover Yuugi's having." He noticed the small twitch to his brother's features, "We planned it yesterday, but I forgot to tell you," he added quickly. He could see the question in Seto's eyes, `You Forgot?' they asked.

"Work was busy yesterday…and you're the one who didn't come home until witching hour*," Mokuba complained to the silent brunette's accusation. Why was he so nervous when Seto looked at him like that? So intensely, it made his skin crawl with expectation. `Expectation? What am I expecting?' he asked himself. Unable to figure that out, he opted for changing the subject quickly from his own plans. "Did you even get any sleep last night, Nii- sama? I know you couldn't have gotten much if you already secured the island." This time, it was Mokuba staring daggers at Seto.

"Of course I got some, though I'll admit not much," Seto said easily, staring down Mokuba's claim.

"Nii-sama…" Mokuba said, unhappily. "You really should get more than an hour of sleep each night. It's unhealthy."

Seto did not correct his brother's assumption; for last night had been more like 10 minutes. It would only worry the teen further, which was never Seto's intention. "Forget that. Didn't you go over to Yuugi's house last week?" Seto asked, purposely using no pre-fix. Why show respect where there was none?

"Yes. He's my friend, Nii-sama, can't I go see him as often as I like?" He sighed at the look Seto gave him, as if it were a silly question. "Since I'm going to be gone a week, Yuugi wanted us all to get together and do something. You know, have some fun, watch movies, mess around; whatever."

"Mess around?"

Another sigh, "It's just an expression. You know, Yuugi isn't so bad, and neither are Jounouchi, Ryou, Honda," he counted off all of his friends he knew Seto had a problem with, "even Anzu isn't that bad if she doesn't start a lecture." Seto's impassive face was proof that this argument would not be easily won.

"I know they are your friends, Mokuba," Seto began, "but I don't understand why you want to hang around with that Yuugi and the mutt. I suppose the others aren't so bad, but…" he stopped suddenly as the china bowls rattled severely, the table shaking. He blinked at the loud sound Mokuba's palms made when they hit the table's surface. "Mokuba?"

"I can't stand this anymore, Nii-sama!" the teen said fiercely, standing as anger flared in his eyes briefly. The expression fell to one of pain that Seto could not identify, "You're always talking about how you dislike Yuugi, insulting him every time you say his name." He stared into Seto's sapphire eyes, insisting the brunette listen to him. "You might not like him, but…I really appreciate Yuugi, and everything he's done for us! If it wasn't for him…" he paused, looking away, "If it wasn't for him, what would I have done? I couldn't bring you back…but he did. I'll never thank him enough for that." He sat down, staring at his food.

"I…" Seto began. His eyes hardened slightly, as he was unwilling to admit what Mokuba was making so clear. "I never left, Mokuba."

Mokuba looked up at Seto intensely, "Nii-sama, don't pretend you don't remember. You used to be so cruel…even to me," Mokuba stated, reluctantly. "I understand a little why you became that way… I'm not trying to making you feel bad over it…you're my nii-sama and I love you; I loved you even then. But don't you dare tell me it never happened."

Seto was utterly silent; his mind working though he wished it would not. He did remember the way he used to be. Just after Gozaburou `died,' Seto had been a monster; as cruel as their foster father had ever been. Even to Mokuba, he had shown such disregard and said such horrible things. He was grateful Mokuba did not hate him. He lived every day of his life trying to make up for not only what he could not prevent, but what he had done himself.

"I know how I was Mokuba…what point are you making with this?" he finally replied.

"I think you should show Yuugi a little more appreciation. You don't have to be his friend…but don't so openly loathe him like you do. It hurts him that you treat him like an enemy, and as his friend I don't want that. Please?"

Mokuba's eyes were too full of pain for Seto to ignore; he closed his eyes briefly, "All right. I'll treat him better, for you Mokuba."

He knew that would be the best he could get, at least for now, so Mokuba smiled in response. "Thank you, Nii-sama." The following silence demanded it be said, "I love you, Nii-sama."

"I love you, as well, Mokuba," Seto said, pretending to turn his attention back to his barely eaten food. It was a few more minutes before he spoke again, placing his chopsticks down across one bowl. He wiped his mouth, standing, "I'm off to work."

Mokuba checked the time and stood as well, "I have to leave too." He went up to Seto and hugged him, gaining the same. "I'm sorry I yelled, Nii-sama," Mokuba mumbled into Seto's shoulder. The arms around him tightened, a hand settling on Mokuba's head.

"It's all right. You're right anyway. I really should show Yuugi-kun more appreciation. It will just take me some time." Mokuba smiled. "Now, I have to go," the brunette insisted.

They left the house together before going their separate ways.