Wants and needs

Warnings/notes : Seto/Joey (established), Mokuba, Seto pov, part musings

Disclaimer : I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

written at 19th august 2003, by Misura

italics = actual meanings (uhm, I hope you'll get it when you see it)


There is, in this world, nobody who loves me.

And why would they?

Why would they even try to, while I treat everyone so coldly, pushing them away before they can break through my walls and masks, before their departure can hurt me?

Before my true face can hurt *them*?

My true face ... I don't know what that looks like anymore.

Does that other Seto Kaiba, the one who gave a damn, still lives somewhere inside of me, trying to stop me from becoming what I once only pretended to be?

Mokuba would say 'yes'.

Blinded by his love for an image of me he will always cherish, no matter how different his 'big brother' has gotten.

For his sake, I wear another mask over my other one sometimes, to fondly ruffle his hair and show him a warm smile, while on the inside I'm freezing.

It's tearing me apart, all this acting, yet I can't stop it.

To lose his simple adoration, no matter how false, would leave me with nothing at all.

Nothing except ...


"Chill out a little, Seto." Wandering hands softly rub my back, my shoulders. Your warm breath tickles my ear. Your hair softly brushes past my cheek, while you lean forwards to look at the screen to discover what made my face scowl as it did.

I, of course, have already made sure a completely innocent, boring business-document shows.

"Joey ... " Working at home definitely has its advantages. Though I do get a lot less work done, with both you and Mokuba plotting to make me take regular rests.

"What ... " Your hand drift down my arm, to reach for the mouse, clicking back the document I was reading before in existence.

You know me much too well by now.

I must admit I like it though. Of course, I'll never admit it, but it's actually quite enjoyable to let go of my walls and shields, to be able to say 'I love you' without having to fear you'll turn around and use those words against me.

" ... is this?" you inquire.

"Nothing." I reply curtly. I don't want to talk about it.

"It doesn't look like nothing." I want you to tell me. You shake your head.

"Forget about it." No. Leave it. I do so too.

"Don't be so defensive." Are you scared of telling me? You try to sound lightly.

"I'm not." No, I'm not afraid of anything. Please ...

"Seeetooo!" You pout. You're cute when you do that. I wonder if Mokuba gave you some lessons. It would be just like him, to tell you my weak spots.

Then again, you're already aware I have a certain fondness for puppies, aren't you?

Very well, I suppose I can offer a compromise then.

"Why don't you go order some pizza for dinner? I should be finished in another fifteen minutes." It will mean having to shove half of my work for this evening to tomorrow, but who cares? Not me, that much is sure.

You're halfway to the door already before realization dawns.

"You're trying to distract me by food!" You accuse me so sincerely. So adorably serious.

"I succeeded." I answer smugly. "Now be a good pup and hurry up. I'm hungry."

Your eyes are beautiful when you smile like that. They still warm me, even when you're gone, in search of a phone and Mokuba, to ask what kind of topping he wants on the pizza.

Neither of us cares ; you, because you'll eat nearly anything and me, because I simply don't mind.

My gaze falls on the date I wrote this odd file I still haven't deleted yet, even if I intended to do so many times. I'm not the person who wrote that anymore.


... Joey. The pup. The mutt. The good-for-nothing.

He is drawn to me, like we're destined to be argueing forever. I suppose I could just ignore him and his weak insults, should do so probably.

I've done it to so many others, most of them smarter and more interesting than him.

Somehow, I can't bring myself to do it.

It's not hate I feel for him, and it's definitely not love either.

It's both and it's none of them.

It's pulling at my mask, anyway, this odd emotion I only feel when he's around. I wonder if he sense it too, what makes him come back for more of my verbal abuse.

I wonder what I'm going to do if he stops doing it and starts ignoring me, like everyone else does. The prospect doesn't seem very pleasant, even if I tell myself it should be.

Why would I snap at him, if it's not my desire to drive him away?


I sigh, checking the clock to make sure I still have some time left, before I add a final sentence, to close this chapter of my life.

Better to deal with what troubles you than to try and shove it away to some corner of your mind, from where it will keep nagging you.


[13-04-2014 :] Because I love him.


"Hmmm, he loves you too."

I turn around, wondering why I haven't heard you walk back in.

Maybe I shouldn't. You seem to have a talent for coming nearer to me without being noticed.