![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
batsutousaiTitle: Seto's Pain 2.0
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Author: Kaiba Katmon/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
batsutousai
Beta:tsuki_no_suzu
Rating: M
Pairings: Gozaburo/Seto
Warnings: In holding true to the original, there will be themes of child abuse, rape, chan/under-age sex, murder and yaoi/slash
Summary: The worst day of Seto's life was the day he faced Kaiba Gozaburo over a chessboard and won both his and his brother's adoption. It had seemed wonderful at the time but after years under Gozaburo's sharp eyes and violent temper, Seto would look back on that day and curse it.
Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Konami, Shueisha Inc., etc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Years and years ago, I wrote for the Yu-Gi-Oh fandom and, some days, I just want to go back and smack that little kid around a couple of times and ask what she was doing with her life (not just because of the fanfiction, mind, but... Eh.).
Anyway, I was posting some of my old shite at Archive of Our Own (AO3) and got to re-reading Seto's Pain (SP) which was a huge epic about Kaiba Seto and the pain he suffered at his adopted father's hands before Gozaburo's death. And there I am, reading it, and wondering what sort of crack I was on back then. *nervous laughter* So, since I've recently started work on a re-write of Abandon in the Harry Potter fandom, it came to me that I could work on a re-write of SP, especially when I was having trouble working on HP stuff.
So, this is that re-write. It'll be updated as I finish chapters – this is more for my amusement than any reader reaction – and there is almost certain to be months between some updates. If you're looking for a fic that will be posted weekly, this isn't it. So don't come to this fic with any expectations.
In the original SP, Seto faced a plethora of terrible things at the hands of his adopted father, and I'd like to keep many of those elements in this re-write, even though I know canon!Gozaburo wasn't really physically abusive to Seto. That's not to say that things aren't going to change because, honestly, I was a troubled kid with a really screwed up imagination – I'd like to think I've matured a bit – just, you know, read the warnings.
If, for some god-awful reason, you want to read the original piece of crap, there is a copy of it that has seen some grammatical and spelling editing up on AO3. (There's also an un-edited version floating around on the web somewhere, but I very much suggest going for the edited copy.)
-0-0-0-
The History of War
-0-0-0-
The worst day of Seto's life was the day he faced Kaiba Gozaburo over a chessboard and won both his and his brother's adoption. It had seemed wonderful at the time – getting a new home for himself and Mokuba, becoming a Kaiba, beating one of the most famous men in Japan at a game of tactics – but after years under Gozaburo's sharp eyes and violent temper, Seto would look back on that day and curse it.
The first few days as Kaibas were wonderful. Seto and Mokuba made a point to explore as much of the huge mansion they would one day inherit as they could. They often got lost and had to be fetched for meals by smiling servants or a quietly amused Gozaburo. There weren't a great-many toys or games for a couple of boys, but there was more than enough space to run around in, and when they got bored of that, Seto would hunt down a book to read while Mokuba played with the few toys that had survived the orphanage.
One afternoon, as Seto was hunting through the large library on the third floor, Gozaburo walked up to him and handed him a book. Seto frowned at it for a moment, then held it up to his adopted father. "No, thanks," he said, eyes already looking over the shelves again.
Gozaburo didn't take the book back. "That wasn't an offer, Seto," he said quietly, eyes intent.
Seto frowned a bit and glanced up at the man. "I'm hardly interested in war history, sir." He got up on his tip-toes and made to put the book back.
Gozaburo grabbed the book from the boy and used it to hit his hand away from the spot the book belonged in, then held it back down to Seto while the boy nursed his hand. "I don't care how interested in this subject you are, you will read this book. Am I understood?"
Seto gave him a dark look, but took the book back. "Yes, sir," he replied, his angry eyes giving voice to the refusal he wouldn't dare speak aloud.
"Go," Gozaburo ordered.
Seto hurried away to the side-room he and his brother had been given to use as a play room. Mokuba was already there, driving around a plastic truck that was missing a wheel. He smiled up at Seto as the elder brother entered the room. "Niisan! Did you find a new book to read?"
Seto smiled at his brother, their adopted father's violence forgotten. "Of course I did." He turned the book for Mokuba to see and snickered when the younger boy frowned in confusion at the kanji in the title.
"Don't laugh at me!" Mokuba complained, pouting a bit. "You're mean!" Then he turned his back on Seto in a clear dismissal.
Seto shook his head at his little brother and kneeled down next to him, gently setting the book in Mokuba's lap. "The History of War," he translated, pointing to each kanji as he spoke it.
Mokuba traced the kanji for history. "War? Niisan, why are you reading such a boring book?" He glanced over his shoulder at Seto.
The older boy sighed and took the book back, frowning down at it. "Gozaburo-san gave it to me."
Mokuba made a face. "Ick."
Seto chuckled fondly and hugged Mokuba around the shoulders. "Maybe I'll luck out and it'll be a really interesting read."
"Ick," Mokuba insisted.
"Well, if it's really dry, I suppose I can start reading it to you at bedtime."
Mokuba made retching sounds and tossed a pillow at his brother.
Seto laughed and tossed the pillow back before climbing to his feet and moving over to the couch to stretch out on. "Go on, then. Vroom-vroom and all that."
Mokuba rolled his eyes, but obediently returned to his trucks.
Seto smiled to himself and opened the book, wincing a bit as he flexed his bruised hand. Next time Gozaburo handed him a book, Seto would just take it without complaining; he had no interest in being hit with a book again.
-0-
Seto read more about war than he had ever read about anything else in those first few months. Gozaburo occasionally handed him books on math or the Japanese language, to give a bit of variation, but Seto was, quite honestly, sick to death of the taste in books his guardian had. Occasionally, when Gozaburo was at KaibaCorp, Seto would sneak into the library and hunt down a couple of other books that were more interesting and hide them in his room to read when he couldn't make himself read the crap that was forced on him anymore. If Gozaburo knew what he was doing, he didn't say anything about it.
That was one of the nice things about having a guardian who was always working, Seto and Mokuba discovered: He was never home, and when he was, he didn't really have time to wonder what they'd been getting up to while he was gone all day. So for all that he gave Seto something of a reading list, they were pretty much free to do as they pleased all day.
That freedom, of course, ended while school was in session. Both brothers spent their mornings and early afternoons at school, then came home and Seto was immediately set upon by a tutor Gozaburo had hired to teach him. Mokuba whined about not seeing his brother once or twice, but Seto always told him to shut up. The one time the elder boy had complained to Gozaburo about the constant work, the man had backhanded him across the face, then doubled his workload. He had no interest in seeing Mokuba hurt or having his workload doubled again.
It was almost a year before anything changed. One evening, Gozaburo came home late and in an absolute temper about something that had gone wrong at KaibaCorp. Seto and Mokuba were playing an old board game they'd found in a dusty room when their adopted father got home. Gozaburo took one look at the game, then let out a furious sound and set the game board flying. Mokuba hid under the table from the man's wrath, but Seto wasn't so lucky and Gozaburo laid into him with flying fists and spitting rage.
When Gozaburo finally stormed off, Seto was left curled in a ball in the middle of the playroom, quietly gasping for breath through the pain in his side and arm.
Mokuba crawled out from under the table, face a mess of terrified tears, and scuttled over to his brother. "Niisan?" he whispered.
Seto uncurled enough to slip his un-bruised arm around Mokuba's shoulders and pull the smaller boy against his side. "It's okay, otouto. You're okay."
Mokuba shuffled as close as he could get and hid his face against Seto's shoulder, shaking with quiet sobs.
Seto sighed and focused his attention on comforting his brother. He could handle a couple of bruises, especially if Mokuba got by unscathed.
Once Mokuba had calmed down from his own terror, he remembered that Seto had been hurt and turned teary eyes on the older boy. "Are you okay, Niisan?" he pleaded.
Seto smiled at him, carefully uncurling his bruised side. It wasn't too bad, all things considered. He'd gotten more beat up at the orphanage. "I'll be fine, Mokuba," he promised, gently swiping the boy's tears away with his thumbs. "Are you okay? That game board didn't get you, did it?"
Mokuba shook his head. "I'm okay," he replied.
Seto nodded, pleased. "Okay. Did you want to try going back to the game, or...?"
Mokuba glanced towards the toppled board, pieces scattered everywhere. Then he looked back at Seto. "No. Maybe..." He glanced up towards the doorway, as if watching for those who might overhear him, then leaned in closer to Seto's ear. "Read me a book?"
Seto chuckled. "Sure. You want to go find one?"
Mokuba's face lit up and he jumped to his feet to go find a book off the bookshelves on the far side of the room.
Seto winced and carefully pulled himself to his feet while Mokuba was distracted. He shuffled over to the couch and sank into it, hugging his arm to his chest. A quick glance under his sleeve showed a large bruise in the shape of a hand already forming and he hid it before Mokuba could see. He was a little scared to see what his side looked like, since it had received the brunt of the attack, but there was no time to look at it now, as Mokuba was returning with a book, a wide grin on his face.
After two books and tucking Mokuba in, Seto was finally able to check on his side. It had formed a nasty grouping of bruises that were suspiciously slipper shaped and he grimaced at them before lowering his shirt and checking over the rest of himself to insure there weren't any other surprises. Some of the bruising on his side had folded around to his back, which hadn't been a surprise, though he had been a little worried by faint bruising on the back of his neck, where Gozaburo had initially grabbed him before going for his arm.
Really, Seto decided, everything would be covered by his school uniform. As long as his adopted father kept away from his face, no one would know. He was used to hiding bruises, after the orphanage. And before that, on Mokuba's first birthday, when their father had gotten drunk off his ass and taken it out on Seto when he hid his baby brother. (For Mokuba's second birthday, their father had wallowed in a bar, and his third had been the evening of the accident which ended his grief forever and saw Seto and Mokuba shoved into an orphanage for two years.)
Bruises, Seto could hide. Bruises were worth being the heir of the Kaiba Corporation.
-0-
Every month or so, Gozaburo would come home late and in an absolute rage against something going on at KaibaCorp. The boys had quickly learned to turn in early on evenings when their adopted father got home after supper, lest they become his target. Mokuba had weathered the storm once, when Seto was otherwise occupied with an upset stomach, and that had been more than enough for the young boy. Seto had been absolutely furious with his adopted father and had called him on it the next day, only to receive his own set of bruises to match Mokuba's.
Seto's room was closer to Gozaburo's room, so he heard Gozaburo take his anger out on things in his own room when the brothers started going to bed before he got home. Seto was never able to sleep with the noise, so instead he'd flip on his bedside light and try to read another boring text while his adopted father raged two doors down.
It was one such evening, while Seto was reading one of the books he had chosen for himself from his school library on karate – he saw no reason to allow himself to be beat up at school like he was at home – that his bedroom door slammed open to frame his adopted father.
Before Seto could do more than widen his eyes in shock, Gozaburo was on him, book knocked to the floor while the man held Seto by the throat, breathing heavily on his face. "What's this?" Gozaburo hissed. "You're sitting here, reading your pleasure books? Why not read them in your playroom, like you used to do? Like you usually do?"
Seto pushed at Gozaburo, eyes watering from the lack of air. "–et –o!" he managed. "Nu–!"
Gozaburo lightened his hold, eyes sharp and almost... was that amusement? "Are you afraid of me, Seto?" he whispered.
Seto stared up at him, gasping in air as quickly as he could. When Gozaburo's eyes narrowed and his hold started tightening again, the boy nodded. "Scared!" he agreed. "Please..."
"Please what?" Gozaburo asked, victory causing his lips to curl and his eyes to gleam. "Please don't choke you anymore? Please don't beat you? Please leave you to your books?"
Seto hated the way his eyes filled with tears, but he closed his eyes and let them fall even as he nodded, admitting to his weakness. Just leave me alone.
"You want to become the CEO of KaibaCorp, Seto?" Gozaburo asked, moving to hold the boy down by his shoulders.
Seto took a deep breath, just because he could, then frowned up at the man still leaning over him. "Yes."
Gozaburo smiled cruelly. "You have to be heartless in this business, Seto. You have to give as good as you get and hiding behind your books will just get you killed." He leaned on Seto's shoulders, causing the boy to whimper and struggle to ease the pressure. "You are weak."
"Then teach me to be strong!" Seto hissed, wincing.
"I am," Gozaburo assured him, then pulled back, dragging Seto up with him. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, boy, and I will beat that out of you if it's the last thing I do."
Seto's eyes widened in realisation even as the man's fist connected with his stomach. When he tried to curl around the pain, to protect his stomach, Gozaburo grabbed him by the throat and started choking him again even as he laid even more punches into Seto's stomach.
When Seto finally kicked at him, desperate, Gozaburo grinned and let him go. "Don't hide from me again," he ordered, then got up and left the room.
Once the door had fallen shut, Seto rolled over on his side and curled around his stomach, coughing against the pain. At least the bastard didn't hit any of my ribs and break them, Seto reflected, having lived through a healing rib once. But beating on my stomach like that... He coughed again and glanced at his hand to check for any blood. The last thing I need is internal bleeding.
He didn't even realise he'd fallen asleep until he felt his bed jerk and small arms rested lightly on his side. "Niisan?" Mokuba whispered.
Seto groaned and turned his head to look up at bloodshot eyes. "Mokuba," he whispered, reaching up a hand to touch his little brother's cheek.
Mokuba burst into tears and let himself be pulled into a hug when Seto sat up with a wince.
It was only after Mokuba had calmed down that Seto finally asked, "What is it, Mokuba? Gozaburo-san didn't hurt you, did he?" He pulled back to glance over Mokuba, trying to spot any possible bruising.
Mokuba shook his head and gently touched the marks around Seto's throat. "I heard him, last night, coming in here. And I heard Niisan, trying to get him to stop." His eyes were wide and helpless.
Seto pulled Mokuba back into a hug, sighing. "I'm sorry, otouto." He brushed a hand through the long black hair. "I'm okay. We're both okay."
Mokuba clenched his hands into fists. He knew Seto was trying to protect him by not letting on how hurt he might be, but nothing he said would ever change that. Mokuba hated watching his elder brother take the brunt of their adopted father's anger, but the one time he, himself, had taken the beating had been... terrible. Mokuba couldn't imagine getting hurt like that again, couldn't imagine how Seto handled it again and again. He wished he was as strong as his big brother.
Seto smiled and looked down at the troubled face. "Why don't you go get dressed and I'll meet you there for breakfast? Cook always makes pancakes on Sundays."
Mokuba bit his bottom lip and nodded. He did like pancakes. "You'll play with me a bit?" he asked hopefully. "After breakfast?"
"Sure. We can play with that card game you like so much."
The younger boy's eyes lit up at the prospect. Seto never played Magic and Wizards with him. "Okay!" he chirped before scrambling off the bed and running out the door to his own room.
Seto chuckled to himself and got up to close the door. Only after the door was closed did he lift his shirt and look down at his stomach. He winced at the pattern of bruises, then sighed to himself. Better get used to it, Seto, he told himself. 'Bruise' is about to become your new skin-colour. With a grimace, he hurried over to his closet to find a shirt that would cover his throat. The servants might well have an idea about how Gozaburo treated his adopted sons, but there was no reason to go around giving them evidence to turn in to child services. The orphanage was just as bad as this house, without the perks.
Mokuba was waiting for him when he finally stepped out into the hall. The younger boy bit his lip at the sight of the high collar covering the bruises on his throat, but didn't say anything. When Seto offered his hand, Mokuba took it and they walked down to the dining room together.
Gozaburo was already there when the brothers walked in and took their usual seats. He considered Seto and Mokuba as the boys offered a pleasant 'Good morning' to the cook and received their pancakes. Other than Seto's high collar and the faint bruises under the two boy's eyes from a troubled sleep, there was no obvious sign that anything had happened the night before and Gozaburo had to give it to both his adopted sons; they knew how to pretend all was well.
Once the cook had left, Gozaburo set his paper to one side and picked up his cup of coffee. "Seto," he called before taking a sip.
"Yes, Otousan?" the boy replied politely, glancing up from his pancakes with a careless air.
"When your winter holidays begin, you will be spending your days with me at KaibaCorp."
Mokuba shifted and opened his mouth to complain, but Seto rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Of course, Otousan," he agreed before returning to his pancakes.
Gozaburo raised an eyebrow at Mokuba, who quickly busied himself with his pancakes, frowning a bit.
Once they were done with breakfast, the brothers retired to their playroom and settled together on the floor with the decks Mokuba had created with cards he'd stolen or found while they were at the orphanage. Most of them were badly worn and a couple had ripped corners, but Mokuba loved them too much to throw them out, and they were still readable, which was all that really mattered to the boy.
Mokuba played his first card, quietly complaining, "I don't want you spending your days at KaibaCorp."
"We can play in the evenings," Seto promised, setting a trap card and considering his monster options.
"That's not–"
"Mokuba." Seto gave his younger brother a helpless look. "What do you want me to do? Refuse him? The entire reason I wanted him to adopt us was so I could eventually have KaibaCorp. The sooner I start appearing around there, the sooner I can have a say in what they do."
Mokuba sniffled a bit and bowed his head. "I don't want to spend all day without Niisan," he murmured.
Seto sighed. "I know. I don't much want to leave you here all day, either, but we don't much have a choice." He finally set a monster and motioned for Mokuba to take his turn. "Maybe if I'm there, Gozaburo-san won't come home in such a temper all the time."
"Instead, he can hit you at the office," Mokuba complained, summoning a Guardian of the Throne Room. "Attacking."
Seto flipped over his Island Turtle and smiled when Mokuba groaned and made note of the damage to his life points. "He wouldn't hit me at the office," he added.
"I suppose," Mokuba agreed as Seto took his turn. "But still..."
"I know." Seto sighed over his useless hand and motioned for Mokuba to take his turn.
Mokuba shot his set trap card a dubious look, then drew a card. "Have I mentioned that I hate Island Turtle?" he commented, setting a monster card.
Seto laughed.
-0-
Visiting KaibaCorp was quite the adventure, Seto discovered. Gozaburo was quite proud of the company's inventions, so their first couple of hours in the building were spent taking a tour of the premises. Seeing all the weapons KaibaCorp was in the process of inventing, Seto could understand why his adopted father had him reading about war all the time, but he still didn't care for it. He made a mental note to change KaibaCorp's focus as soon as he got control of the place.
The rest of the visit was spent in meetings or with Gozaburo teaching his heir how to handle the day-to-day dealings of running a major corporation. By the time they got home, Seto was tired of thinking about math and the idiotic complaints of the employees. He enjoyed his few hours with his brother after dinner before they were ordered to bed.
Curled up under his covers, Seto made another mental note: He would never let work keep him from his brother.
-0-0-0-0-0-
-0-0-0-0-0-
A/N: You all should have seen my mild panic when I wrote myself into making up Seto and Mokuba's game. I haven't played Duel Monsters in... six years? Something like that. Anyway, my memory of the game is sketchy, and my knowledge of the cards even more so. (The only ones I really remember are Dark Magician, Dark Magician Girl, Blue Eyes White Dragon, Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon, Red Eyes Black Dragon, Exodia, some of the Toons, Inaba White Rabbit and Kuriboh, of all things. And, even then, I'm sketchy on their details.) I had this slightly panicked dash to hunt down my old cards – I keep meaning to sell them and then never get around to it, hence why they still exist – and then had to read through the rulebook I had with them to refresh my memory. *sigh*
Anyway, kinda funny to watch – the cats certainly thought so – and if Shara had been here, she probably would have said something along the lines of, 'Haven't you tossed those yet?' I'm sure, once she's home and she sees my mess, that's going to be her greeting... ^.^" I should clean up, shouldn't I?
Before anyone complains, yes, I know Mokuba calls Seto 'Niisama' in the show, but he'll be calling him 'Niisan' for a bit, at least. That added bit of respect must be earned. XD
So, one of the things I moaned and groaned about while re-reading the original SP was how suddenly Gozaburo's abuse started and, worse, escalated. Not to mention how little time I gave Seto to heal before he was off running through a park or jumping over fences on the roof. *rolls eyes* Merlin, I was an idiot as a teen. Anyway, I'm hoping to fix that a bit this time.
Even better, having been admitted to a hospital for blood loss myself, if I write myself into that little hole again, I can make it much more believable. (Honestly, letting him out within hours of having him admitted? What sort of crack was I on?)
Anyway, this is kind of fun to write, even if I was struggling a bit to remember specifics of the world. XD
~Bats ^.^x / Kaiba Katmon
(Merlin, it's been a LONG time since I signed something with that screenname... O.o)
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Author: Kaiba Katmon/
batsutousaiBeta:
tsuki_no_suzuRating: M
Pairings: Gozaburo/Seto
Warnings: In holding true to the original, there will be themes of child abuse, rape, chan/under-age sex, murder and yaoi/slash
Summary: The worst day of Seto's life was the day he faced Kaiba Gozaburo over a chessboard and won both his and his brother's adoption. It had seemed wonderful at the time but after years under Gozaburo's sharp eyes and violent temper, Seto would look back on that day and curse it.
Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Konami, Shueisha Inc., etc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Years and years ago, I wrote for the Yu-Gi-Oh fandom and, some days, I just want to go back and smack that little kid around a couple of times and ask what she was doing with her life (not just because of the fanfiction, mind, but... Eh.).
Anyway, I was posting some of my old shite at Archive of Our Own (AO3) and got to re-reading Seto's Pain (SP) which was a huge epic about Kaiba Seto and the pain he suffered at his adopted father's hands before Gozaburo's death. And there I am, reading it, and wondering what sort of crack I was on back then. *nervous laughter* So, since I've recently started work on a re-write of Abandon in the Harry Potter fandom, it came to me that I could work on a re-write of SP, especially when I was having trouble working on HP stuff.
So, this is that re-write. It'll be updated as I finish chapters – this is more for my amusement than any reader reaction – and there is almost certain to be months between some updates. If you're looking for a fic that will be posted weekly, this isn't it. So don't come to this fic with any expectations.
In the original SP, Seto faced a plethora of terrible things at the hands of his adopted father, and I'd like to keep many of those elements in this re-write, even though I know canon!Gozaburo wasn't really physically abusive to Seto. That's not to say that things aren't going to change because, honestly, I was a troubled kid with a really screwed up imagination – I'd like to think I've matured a bit – just, you know, read the warnings.
If, for some god-awful reason, you want to read the original piece of crap, there is a copy of it that has seen some grammatical and spelling editing up on AO3. (There's also an un-edited version floating around on the web somewhere, but I very much suggest going for the edited copy.)
The History of War
-0-0-0-
The worst day of Seto's life was the day he faced Kaiba Gozaburo over a chessboard and won both his and his brother's adoption. It had seemed wonderful at the time – getting a new home for himself and Mokuba, becoming a Kaiba, beating one of the most famous men in Japan at a game of tactics – but after years under Gozaburo's sharp eyes and violent temper, Seto would look back on that day and curse it.
The first few days as Kaibas were wonderful. Seto and Mokuba made a point to explore as much of the huge mansion they would one day inherit as they could. They often got lost and had to be fetched for meals by smiling servants or a quietly amused Gozaburo. There weren't a great-many toys or games for a couple of boys, but there was more than enough space to run around in, and when they got bored of that, Seto would hunt down a book to read while Mokuba played with the few toys that had survived the orphanage.
One afternoon, as Seto was hunting through the large library on the third floor, Gozaburo walked up to him and handed him a book. Seto frowned at it for a moment, then held it up to his adopted father. "No, thanks," he said, eyes already looking over the shelves again.
Gozaburo didn't take the book back. "That wasn't an offer, Seto," he said quietly, eyes intent.
Seto frowned a bit and glanced up at the man. "I'm hardly interested in war history, sir." He got up on his tip-toes and made to put the book back.
Gozaburo grabbed the book from the boy and used it to hit his hand away from the spot the book belonged in, then held it back down to Seto while the boy nursed his hand. "I don't care how interested in this subject you are, you will read this book. Am I understood?"
Seto gave him a dark look, but took the book back. "Yes, sir," he replied, his angry eyes giving voice to the refusal he wouldn't dare speak aloud.
"Go," Gozaburo ordered.
Seto hurried away to the side-room he and his brother had been given to use as a play room. Mokuba was already there, driving around a plastic truck that was missing a wheel. He smiled up at Seto as the elder brother entered the room. "Niisan! Did you find a new book to read?"
Seto smiled at his brother, their adopted father's violence forgotten. "Of course I did." He turned the book for Mokuba to see and snickered when the younger boy frowned in confusion at the kanji in the title.
"Don't laugh at me!" Mokuba complained, pouting a bit. "You're mean!" Then he turned his back on Seto in a clear dismissal.
Seto shook his head at his little brother and kneeled down next to him, gently setting the book in Mokuba's lap. "The History of War," he translated, pointing to each kanji as he spoke it.
Mokuba traced the kanji for history. "War? Niisan, why are you reading such a boring book?" He glanced over his shoulder at Seto.
The older boy sighed and took the book back, frowning down at it. "Gozaburo-san gave it to me."
Mokuba made a face. "Ick."
Seto chuckled fondly and hugged Mokuba around the shoulders. "Maybe I'll luck out and it'll be a really interesting read."
"Ick," Mokuba insisted.
"Well, if it's really dry, I suppose I can start reading it to you at bedtime."
Mokuba made retching sounds and tossed a pillow at his brother.
Seto laughed and tossed the pillow back before climbing to his feet and moving over to the couch to stretch out on. "Go on, then. Vroom-vroom and all that."
Mokuba rolled his eyes, but obediently returned to his trucks.
Seto smiled to himself and opened the book, wincing a bit as he flexed his bruised hand. Next time Gozaburo handed him a book, Seto would just take it without complaining; he had no interest in being hit with a book again.
Seto read more about war than he had ever read about anything else in those first few months. Gozaburo occasionally handed him books on math or the Japanese language, to give a bit of variation, but Seto was, quite honestly, sick to death of the taste in books his guardian had. Occasionally, when Gozaburo was at KaibaCorp, Seto would sneak into the library and hunt down a couple of other books that were more interesting and hide them in his room to read when he couldn't make himself read the crap that was forced on him anymore. If Gozaburo knew what he was doing, he didn't say anything about it.
That was one of the nice things about having a guardian who was always working, Seto and Mokuba discovered: He was never home, and when he was, he didn't really have time to wonder what they'd been getting up to while he was gone all day. So for all that he gave Seto something of a reading list, they were pretty much free to do as they pleased all day.
That freedom, of course, ended while school was in session. Both brothers spent their mornings and early afternoons at school, then came home and Seto was immediately set upon by a tutor Gozaburo had hired to teach him. Mokuba whined about not seeing his brother once or twice, but Seto always told him to shut up. The one time the elder boy had complained to Gozaburo about the constant work, the man had backhanded him across the face, then doubled his workload. He had no interest in seeing Mokuba hurt or having his workload doubled again.
It was almost a year before anything changed. One evening, Gozaburo came home late and in an absolute temper about something that had gone wrong at KaibaCorp. Seto and Mokuba were playing an old board game they'd found in a dusty room when their adopted father got home. Gozaburo took one look at the game, then let out a furious sound and set the game board flying. Mokuba hid under the table from the man's wrath, but Seto wasn't so lucky and Gozaburo laid into him with flying fists and spitting rage.
When Gozaburo finally stormed off, Seto was left curled in a ball in the middle of the playroom, quietly gasping for breath through the pain in his side and arm.
Mokuba crawled out from under the table, face a mess of terrified tears, and scuttled over to his brother. "Niisan?" he whispered.
Seto uncurled enough to slip his un-bruised arm around Mokuba's shoulders and pull the smaller boy against his side. "It's okay, otouto. You're okay."
Mokuba shuffled as close as he could get and hid his face against Seto's shoulder, shaking with quiet sobs.
Seto sighed and focused his attention on comforting his brother. He could handle a couple of bruises, especially if Mokuba got by unscathed.
Once Mokuba had calmed down from his own terror, he remembered that Seto had been hurt and turned teary eyes on the older boy. "Are you okay, Niisan?" he pleaded.
Seto smiled at him, carefully uncurling his bruised side. It wasn't too bad, all things considered. He'd gotten more beat up at the orphanage. "I'll be fine, Mokuba," he promised, gently swiping the boy's tears away with his thumbs. "Are you okay? That game board didn't get you, did it?"
Mokuba shook his head. "I'm okay," he replied.
Seto nodded, pleased. "Okay. Did you want to try going back to the game, or...?"
Mokuba glanced towards the toppled board, pieces scattered everywhere. Then he looked back at Seto. "No. Maybe..." He glanced up towards the doorway, as if watching for those who might overhear him, then leaned in closer to Seto's ear. "Read me a book?"
Seto chuckled. "Sure. You want to go find one?"
Mokuba's face lit up and he jumped to his feet to go find a book off the bookshelves on the far side of the room.
Seto winced and carefully pulled himself to his feet while Mokuba was distracted. He shuffled over to the couch and sank into it, hugging his arm to his chest. A quick glance under his sleeve showed a large bruise in the shape of a hand already forming and he hid it before Mokuba could see. He was a little scared to see what his side looked like, since it had received the brunt of the attack, but there was no time to look at it now, as Mokuba was returning with a book, a wide grin on his face.
After two books and tucking Mokuba in, Seto was finally able to check on his side. It had formed a nasty grouping of bruises that were suspiciously slipper shaped and he grimaced at them before lowering his shirt and checking over the rest of himself to insure there weren't any other surprises. Some of the bruising on his side had folded around to his back, which hadn't been a surprise, though he had been a little worried by faint bruising on the back of his neck, where Gozaburo had initially grabbed him before going for his arm.
Really, Seto decided, everything would be covered by his school uniform. As long as his adopted father kept away from his face, no one would know. He was used to hiding bruises, after the orphanage. And before that, on Mokuba's first birthday, when their father had gotten drunk off his ass and taken it out on Seto when he hid his baby brother. (For Mokuba's second birthday, their father had wallowed in a bar, and his third had been the evening of the accident which ended his grief forever and saw Seto and Mokuba shoved into an orphanage for two years.)
Bruises, Seto could hide. Bruises were worth being the heir of the Kaiba Corporation.
Every month or so, Gozaburo would come home late and in an absolute rage against something going on at KaibaCorp. The boys had quickly learned to turn in early on evenings when their adopted father got home after supper, lest they become his target. Mokuba had weathered the storm once, when Seto was otherwise occupied with an upset stomach, and that had been more than enough for the young boy. Seto had been absolutely furious with his adopted father and had called him on it the next day, only to receive his own set of bruises to match Mokuba's.
Seto's room was closer to Gozaburo's room, so he heard Gozaburo take his anger out on things in his own room when the brothers started going to bed before he got home. Seto was never able to sleep with the noise, so instead he'd flip on his bedside light and try to read another boring text while his adopted father raged two doors down.
It was one such evening, while Seto was reading one of the books he had chosen for himself from his school library on karate – he saw no reason to allow himself to be beat up at school like he was at home – that his bedroom door slammed open to frame his adopted father.
Before Seto could do more than widen his eyes in shock, Gozaburo was on him, book knocked to the floor while the man held Seto by the throat, breathing heavily on his face. "What's this?" Gozaburo hissed. "You're sitting here, reading your pleasure books? Why not read them in your playroom, like you used to do? Like you usually do?"
Seto pushed at Gozaburo, eyes watering from the lack of air. "–et –o!" he managed. "Nu–!"
Gozaburo lightened his hold, eyes sharp and almost... was that amusement? "Are you afraid of me, Seto?" he whispered.
Seto stared up at him, gasping in air as quickly as he could. When Gozaburo's eyes narrowed and his hold started tightening again, the boy nodded. "Scared!" he agreed. "Please..."
"Please what?" Gozaburo asked, victory causing his lips to curl and his eyes to gleam. "Please don't choke you anymore? Please don't beat you? Please leave you to your books?"
Seto hated the way his eyes filled with tears, but he closed his eyes and let them fall even as he nodded, admitting to his weakness. Just leave me alone.
"You want to become the CEO of KaibaCorp, Seto?" Gozaburo asked, moving to hold the boy down by his shoulders.
Seto took a deep breath, just because he could, then frowned up at the man still leaning over him. "Yes."
Gozaburo smiled cruelly. "You have to be heartless in this business, Seto. You have to give as good as you get and hiding behind your books will just get you killed." He leaned on Seto's shoulders, causing the boy to whimper and struggle to ease the pressure. "You are weak."
"Then teach me to be strong!" Seto hissed, wincing.
"I am," Gozaburo assured him, then pulled back, dragging Seto up with him. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, boy, and I will beat that out of you if it's the last thing I do."
Seto's eyes widened in realisation even as the man's fist connected with his stomach. When he tried to curl around the pain, to protect his stomach, Gozaburo grabbed him by the throat and started choking him again even as he laid even more punches into Seto's stomach.
When Seto finally kicked at him, desperate, Gozaburo grinned and let him go. "Don't hide from me again," he ordered, then got up and left the room.
Once the door had fallen shut, Seto rolled over on his side and curled around his stomach, coughing against the pain. At least the bastard didn't hit any of my ribs and break them, Seto reflected, having lived through a healing rib once. But beating on my stomach like that... He coughed again and glanced at his hand to check for any blood. The last thing I need is internal bleeding.
He didn't even realise he'd fallen asleep until he felt his bed jerk and small arms rested lightly on his side. "Niisan?" Mokuba whispered.
Seto groaned and turned his head to look up at bloodshot eyes. "Mokuba," he whispered, reaching up a hand to touch his little brother's cheek.
Mokuba burst into tears and let himself be pulled into a hug when Seto sat up with a wince.
It was only after Mokuba had calmed down that Seto finally asked, "What is it, Mokuba? Gozaburo-san didn't hurt you, did he?" He pulled back to glance over Mokuba, trying to spot any possible bruising.
Mokuba shook his head and gently touched the marks around Seto's throat. "I heard him, last night, coming in here. And I heard Niisan, trying to get him to stop." His eyes were wide and helpless.
Seto pulled Mokuba back into a hug, sighing. "I'm sorry, otouto." He brushed a hand through the long black hair. "I'm okay. We're both okay."
Mokuba clenched his hands into fists. He knew Seto was trying to protect him by not letting on how hurt he might be, but nothing he said would ever change that. Mokuba hated watching his elder brother take the brunt of their adopted father's anger, but the one time he, himself, had taken the beating had been... terrible. Mokuba couldn't imagine getting hurt like that again, couldn't imagine how Seto handled it again and again. He wished he was as strong as his big brother.
Seto smiled and looked down at the troubled face. "Why don't you go get dressed and I'll meet you there for breakfast? Cook always makes pancakes on Sundays."
Mokuba bit his bottom lip and nodded. He did like pancakes. "You'll play with me a bit?" he asked hopefully. "After breakfast?"
"Sure. We can play with that card game you like so much."
The younger boy's eyes lit up at the prospect. Seto never played Magic and Wizards with him. "Okay!" he chirped before scrambling off the bed and running out the door to his own room.
Seto chuckled to himself and got up to close the door. Only after the door was closed did he lift his shirt and look down at his stomach. He winced at the pattern of bruises, then sighed to himself. Better get used to it, Seto, he told himself. 'Bruise' is about to become your new skin-colour. With a grimace, he hurried over to his closet to find a shirt that would cover his throat. The servants might well have an idea about how Gozaburo treated his adopted sons, but there was no reason to go around giving them evidence to turn in to child services. The orphanage was just as bad as this house, without the perks.
Mokuba was waiting for him when he finally stepped out into the hall. The younger boy bit his lip at the sight of the high collar covering the bruises on his throat, but didn't say anything. When Seto offered his hand, Mokuba took it and they walked down to the dining room together.
Gozaburo was already there when the brothers walked in and took their usual seats. He considered Seto and Mokuba as the boys offered a pleasant 'Good morning' to the cook and received their pancakes. Other than Seto's high collar and the faint bruises under the two boy's eyes from a troubled sleep, there was no obvious sign that anything had happened the night before and Gozaburo had to give it to both his adopted sons; they knew how to pretend all was well.
Once the cook had left, Gozaburo set his paper to one side and picked up his cup of coffee. "Seto," he called before taking a sip.
"Yes, Otousan?" the boy replied politely, glancing up from his pancakes with a careless air.
"When your winter holidays begin, you will be spending your days with me at KaibaCorp."
Mokuba shifted and opened his mouth to complain, but Seto rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Of course, Otousan," he agreed before returning to his pancakes.
Gozaburo raised an eyebrow at Mokuba, who quickly busied himself with his pancakes, frowning a bit.
Once they were done with breakfast, the brothers retired to their playroom and settled together on the floor with the decks Mokuba had created with cards he'd stolen or found while they were at the orphanage. Most of them were badly worn and a couple had ripped corners, but Mokuba loved them too much to throw them out, and they were still readable, which was all that really mattered to the boy.
Mokuba played his first card, quietly complaining, "I don't want you spending your days at KaibaCorp."
"We can play in the evenings," Seto promised, setting a trap card and considering his monster options.
"That's not–"
"Mokuba." Seto gave his younger brother a helpless look. "What do you want me to do? Refuse him? The entire reason I wanted him to adopt us was so I could eventually have KaibaCorp. The sooner I start appearing around there, the sooner I can have a say in what they do."
Mokuba sniffled a bit and bowed his head. "I don't want to spend all day without Niisan," he murmured.
Seto sighed. "I know. I don't much want to leave you here all day, either, but we don't much have a choice." He finally set a monster and motioned for Mokuba to take his turn. "Maybe if I'm there, Gozaburo-san won't come home in such a temper all the time."
"Instead, he can hit you at the office," Mokuba complained, summoning a Guardian of the Throne Room. "Attacking."
Seto flipped over his Island Turtle and smiled when Mokuba groaned and made note of the damage to his life points. "He wouldn't hit me at the office," he added.
"I suppose," Mokuba agreed as Seto took his turn. "But still..."
"I know." Seto sighed over his useless hand and motioned for Mokuba to take his turn.
Mokuba shot his set trap card a dubious look, then drew a card. "Have I mentioned that I hate Island Turtle?" he commented, setting a monster card.
Seto laughed.
Visiting KaibaCorp was quite the adventure, Seto discovered. Gozaburo was quite proud of the company's inventions, so their first couple of hours in the building were spent taking a tour of the premises. Seeing all the weapons KaibaCorp was in the process of inventing, Seto could understand why his adopted father had him reading about war all the time, but he still didn't care for it. He made a mental note to change KaibaCorp's focus as soon as he got control of the place.
The rest of the visit was spent in meetings or with Gozaburo teaching his heir how to handle the day-to-day dealings of running a major corporation. By the time they got home, Seto was tired of thinking about math and the idiotic complaints of the employees. He enjoyed his few hours with his brother after dinner before they were ordered to bed.
Curled up under his covers, Seto made another mental note: He would never let work keep him from his brother.
-0-0-0-0-0-
A/N: You all should have seen my mild panic when I wrote myself into making up Seto and Mokuba's game. I haven't played Duel Monsters in... six years? Something like that. Anyway, my memory of the game is sketchy, and my knowledge of the cards even more so. (The only ones I really remember are Dark Magician, Dark Magician Girl, Blue Eyes White Dragon, Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon, Red Eyes Black Dragon, Exodia, some of the Toons, Inaba White Rabbit and Kuriboh, of all things. And, even then, I'm sketchy on their details.) I had this slightly panicked dash to hunt down my old cards – I keep meaning to sell them and then never get around to it, hence why they still exist – and then had to read through the rulebook I had with them to refresh my memory. *sigh*
Anyway, kinda funny to watch – the cats certainly thought so – and if Shara had been here, she probably would have said something along the lines of, 'Haven't you tossed those yet?' I'm sure, once she's home and she sees my mess, that's going to be her greeting... ^.^" I should clean up, shouldn't I?
Before anyone complains, yes, I know Mokuba calls Seto 'Niisama' in the show, but he'll be calling him 'Niisan' for a bit, at least. That added bit of respect must be earned. XD
So, one of the things I moaned and groaned about while re-reading the original SP was how suddenly Gozaburo's abuse started and, worse, escalated. Not to mention how little time I gave Seto to heal before he was off running through a park or jumping over fences on the roof. *rolls eyes* Merlin, I was an idiot as a teen. Anyway, I'm hoping to fix that a bit this time.
Even better, having been admitted to a hospital for blood loss myself, if I write myself into that little hole again, I can make it much more believable. (Honestly, letting him out within hours of having him admitted? What sort of crack was I on?)
Anyway, this is kind of fun to write, even if I was struggling a bit to remember specifics of the world. XD
~Bats ^.^x / Kaiba Katmon
(Merlin, it's been a LONG time since I signed something with that screenname... O.o)
*incoherent response of love is incoherent*
Date: 12/6/11 07:24 (UTC)Re: *incoherent response of love is incoherent*
Date: 12/6/11 07:26 (UTC)Is it sad that I didn't expect to actually get a response to this fic?
Re: *incoherent response of love is incoherent*
Date: 12/6/11 07:39 (UTC)Well it was a blast from the past, that is for sure! It certainly reminded me of my old love for that fandom.
I also have been feeling guilty that I have been avidly reading your updates for your awesome HP Fic Xerosis, and then passing out to happy slashy dreams afterwards. I have not found the time to properly review your last few chapters, and then if I think to look, anything that I want to say has already been said like times infinity.
So please know that I
am a crazy stalker of a fangirlpretty much read anything that you write and love it even if I do not always tell you so. :)Re: *incoherent response of love is incoherent*
Date: 12/6/11 08:11 (UTC)♥♥ That's okay, I completely understand. If only because I'm a dreadful reviewer myself. ^.~