Chasing the monster


Warnings/notes : none, just Seto and Mokuba being brotherly.

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

written at 4th january 2004, by Misura. part 2 of 2

Thanks to the people who reviewed the first chapter :

To Liz : Thank you for the words of wisdom! And the review, of course. –smiles-

To Amarielle : Thank you. I hope you'll enjoy this second chapter as well. –smiles-

To Snow Angel : -smiles- Thanks!

To crazykekacat : Glad to hear you liked it! Thank you! –smiles-

To cry wolf : I did my best, thank you. –smiles-

To Laryna6 : Thank you! –smiles-

To Metalsilverarmor23 : How could he not, with Mokuba waiting for him? –smiles- Thank you!

To DarkShadowFlame : Thank you very much! –smiles-

To lilmatchgirl : -grins- Aww, come on. He can be nice, from time to time. Thanks!

To HiKari, Mokuba's Guardian : Mokuba could –never- hate Seto. Never. Imho, of course. –smiles- Thanks.

To Icy Flame : Thank you! –beams-

To Uoyr's lover : Thank you! I hope you'll like the second part as well. –smiles-


Seto wasn't surprised to see the light in the living-room was burning. Slightly annoyed that Mokuba apparently was still awake, yes, but not exactly surprised. It wasn't the first time this had happened, not the first time that he had been working late, suppressing his feelings of guilt. When he just kept telling himself one more quarter, a meagre fifteen minutes, wouldn't make much of a difference, it wasn't too hard not to give in to the memories that called him back home.

In time, it had almost become some sort of ritual. Instead of having to fight down guilt, Seto started having to keep from pulling out his cell-phone before it had even rung. Instead of the question whether or not he was a good brother, he was haunted by whether or not Mokuba loved him, would prove that Seto was still his beloved big brother whom he needed to see before he could go to sleep.

The time on which Mokuba finally disobeyed Seto's explicit command not to disturb him during work became a measure of his brotherly love. After days on which Mokuba's call was late, Seto tried to think of reasons for Mokuba's apparent lessened affection and of ways to make up to him. When Mokuba was early, he felt jubilant, proud of his accomplishment.

As long as there was someone who wished his presence, he knew he was still a human being. Not a heartless monster, like his stepfather had been, like people accused -him- to be. Mokuba was his shield, the way Seto was his. They protected each other. They didn't need anyone else aside from each other.


"I'm home." Seto spoke softly, noticing Mokuba seemed to have fallen asleep on the couch. On one hand, he didn't want to disrupt the boy's slumber, didn't want to be responsible for wiping away that expression of peace and rest, the faint smile on Mokuba's lips. On the other side, he had to wake Mokuba to get him to go to bed properly. Sleeping on the couch would probably earn Mokuba a sore awakening anyway.

"I heard you coming." Mokuba yawned, his eyes still closed, that smile still lingering. "You're late."

"Traffic," Seto replied, knowing that wasn't what Mokuba had been referring to. "Deadlines."

"Hm-hm," Mokuba nodded, accepting the explanation, the apology that wasn't voiced, nor needed to be. They knew each other too well to argue. Or maybe they were simply both too tired.

"You're not in bed." It was Seto's turn to make accusations now, though there was no real reproach in the words. "It's long past your bed-time."

"Had to wait up for you," Mokuba murmured. Seto noted the use of 'had to' rather than 'wanted to', wondering what it meant. "Monsters in my closet."

Seto chuckled, unable to help himself. This argument was new. "Aren't you a bit old for that?"

Mokuba jumped up, his smile cheeky now, rather than serene. "Tell -them-!"


"No monsters anywhere," Seto reported dutifully, after having sought all of Mokuba's room at the younger boy's directions. He wondered if this was a normal activity for older brothers, if this was another one of Mokuba's schemes to make him feel his real age.

"They must have all fled for you, big brother," Mokuba grinned, huggling his Blue Eyes-plushie. At first, Seto had adamantly refused to buy the toy for him, claiming it to be as much a perversion of his dragon's true nature as Pegasus' toon had been. A Blue Eyes White Dragon was a fierce, awe-inspiring creature, not some fluffy, cute thing to play with.

"That scary, am I?" Seto answered dryly. Mokuba had won out in the end of the affair of course, carrying the plushie home as if it were a trophy. He had told himself Mokuba's happiness had been worth the swallowing of his dignity. By now, he had gotten used to the animal.

"Very scary," Mokuba agreed, his eyes twinkling. "Just like my Blue Eyes." He raised the plushie, making a soft growling noise that was in no way comparable to a dragon's roar.

Seto snorted. "Well, I guess I can leave then." He felt tired, especially when faced with Mokuba's seemingly endless energy. Had he not been a teenager, he might have used the word 'old' rather than 'tired', but he was, so he didn't.

"Tell me a story? Or read me one?" Mokuba begged, pointing at the book lying on his nightstand. Looking at it, Seto also noticed the small alarm-clock stating the time to be near three in the morning.

"Sorry, Mokuba, but it's much too late for that. Another time," he promised, knowing Mokuba would make him keep his word, even if Seto might forget about it. "You need your sleep."

"But I'm not sleepy yet," Mokuba muttered, yawning. Seto smiled, bending over to ruffle his wild hair.

"A new schoolday starts in five hours," Seto remarked. Mokuba sighed.

"Are you going back to work?" The thought had crossed Seto's mind. Briefly. He knew his limits.

"No. I'll take some rest as well." Mokuba smiled again at that.

"Good. I'll sleep better knowing you're near me." Judging from the way his eyes kept slipping shut, Mokuba wasn't far away from sleep anyway. Still, the words warmed Seto. Which probably was the whole point of them, to make him feel loved, welcome, at home.

"Sweet dreams, Mokuba." His lips softly brushed over Mokuba's forehead, noticing how the boy's body had already gone limp to indicate his wish probably went unheard.

Nonetheless, walking down the hall to his own room, he thought he heard a sleepy voice call after him.

"Sweet dreams, Seto."