Hiya peeps! I'm back writing Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction! Mostly this is because Im completely fed up getting my stories slated for stupid things like the pairing I write for. I mean, it's kinda cool when somebody springs to your defense and tells the person who gave you a bad review to get a life, but still. So, I'm back in this fandom 'cause it's the one I felt most relaxed in. That, and I'm still completely obsessed with the Kaiba bros. So, a warning to y'all, Sinestra's back!

Disclaimer: I don't own, and I never will own. There, I said it! Ya happy now you big, rich, japanise, Kaiba-bros-owning meanieheads! I don't own, so don't even think of sueing!

Summary: Seto and Mokuba were seperated at the orphanage due to Mokuba getting adopted mere weeks before Gozaburo arrived at the orphanage. How will Seto handle Gozaburo's abuse now that he's on his own? And will Mokuba forget his older brother in favor of the loving family he's found?

Family Ties: Chapter I

"Go on then, Mokie. You'll be alright."

"But ... Nii-sama? What about you? Aren't you coming too?"

"Don't worry about me, kid. I can't come with you right now, but it'll be fine. You just go ahead. I promise I'll find you the minute I get out of this dump!"

"But ... No, Nii-sama! I want you to come with me!"

"I can't Mokie. Don't worry, I will find you!"




Without warning, a boy flew into sitting position, his young features twisted in an expression of alarm and guilt. The child sat, panting, for several minutes, before his stormy grey eyes focused on the once-blue wallpaper on the wall facing him. He'd been dreaming, he realised. He also realised that his arm was outstretched, just like it had been in his dream. However, also like in his dream, his fingers were grasping at air. The pair of calming blue eyes, scrunched up from trying not to cry, were nowhere in sight.

The boy sighed and lowered his arm. This wasn't the first time he'd had this dream. It was nowhere near the first time. This boy had been having the same dream for years, seven if he was being exact. It only occured around a certain day, for roughly two weeks every year, and sometimes when the boy was feeling particularly down. It only happened around the anniversary of the day he'd been adopted.

This boy's name was Mokuba Tanaka. At age five, he'd been adopted into the Tanaka family, he'd lived in an orphanage for two years prior to that. His adoptive parents had made sure that he knew a;l of this. His mother had died before Mokuba had ever gotten to know her, and his father had died only a few years after that. The only person Mokuba remembered from his original family was his older brother.

He'd been seperated from his brother, however, back at the orphanage. Mokuba's adoptive parents had only to glance at Mokuba to know they wanted him. From what Mokuba remembered, his older brother had been fighting on the day they'd come to see him. That hadn't exactly played into his brother's favor. Mokuba had been adopted and, according to his dream, his older brother had let it happen.

Still, Mokuba loved his adoptive parents. They were more of parents then the set Mokuba had been born too. He loved them so much, probably as much as he loved his almost faceless big brother. Still, though, on the anniversary of the day of his adoption, Mokuba Tanaka couldn't help but wish his parents had adopted his brother too. To see those blue eyes he remembered so clearly up close every day, that would've been wonderful.

It was on this note that Mokuba Tanaka, in his attic room in a small house on the outskirts of Domino City, sighed, tried to forget about the kind blue eyes that had all but forced him into the car seven yeas ago, and got out of bed at a quarter past seven on tuesday morning.


His adoptive parents were already in the kitchen by the time Mokuba shuffled in fifteen minutes later, give or take. His father gave him a small smile and nod of the head, before he went back to his paper. His mother looked over at him, beamed, and said; "Good morning, sweetheart." The boy mummbled a sleepy "Good morning" back and took his place at the table.

One quick glance at the table would've told any outsider that the boy was not related to the two adults. The women was petite, with gentle brown eyes and slighlty messy white blonde hair. The man was much taller, with a stronger build the the child could ever hope to achieve, his hair was blondish brown, and his eyes were a startling emerald green. In contrast, the boy's hair was jet black and fell in a shaggy cascade between his shoulder blades, his eyes were stormy grey with the barest hint of blue and he was of much shorter and stockier build the either of the adults.

Neither of the adults cared, though. Mokuba was a Tanaka, no matter who he had been born too. He was their son, end of story. Even his step-mother's father, Mokuba's grandfather, a man who was wildly over protective of his daughter, welcomed Mokuba with open arms.

"You've made my daughter and son-in-law so happy, Mokuba. Thank you so much," he had said once, when Mokuba was eight. They'd been out for ice-cream at the time, and Mokuba had been forced to look up for his chocolate sunday. He hadn't really understood what the old man had meant, but he'd smiled and nodded anyway.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? You're awfully quiet," his mother suddenly asked. She sounded truely concerned, Mokuba was a chatterbox at the best of times. For him to be quiet for any lenght of time was a sure sigh that the world just might end in the next few minutes. Mokuba smiled, deciding to be honest.

"Yeah ... I was just thinking that ... today is the day you adopted me all those years ago ..."

His mother suddenly went white, and she muttered a startled "Oh!" as she too remembered what day it was. "Your brother ... you were thinking about your brother, weren't you?"

She didn't sound angry, not even upset. Concerned hit closest to the emotion in her voice. Mokuba slowly nodded, knowing that his mother would now apologise at least ten times, so he cut her off by speaking.

"It's alright, mom. Really, it is. I was adopted seven years ago, I'm sure he got adopted in that time. I never blamed you for leaving him behind, I knew you had too. I love the two of you as much as I love him, so I'm happy that today is the day it is. You're my family."

His mother was staring at him, her brown eyes, always so full of happiness when she looked at him, were now almost brimming over with joy. His father reached out and ruffled his hair.

"That's my boy," the older man chuckled, "The way you speak, sometimes I think you're older then me!"

Mokuba laughed, and continued eating his breakfast.


"I'd appreciate it if you didn't treat me as if I were still ten years old, father."

"Then perhapes, my boy, you shouldn't act as if you were still ten years old. Frankly, you display of childishness this morning deserved nothing more then the treatment you were given."

A pair of blue eyes swung to rest on the grey pair of the man sitting next to him. This man, Gozaburo Kaiba, held the glare easily. Slowly, the blue eyes dropped and the boy had to look away.

"Let me tell you something, my boy," Gozaburo sneered, "you are only a child in my world. You will be treated like a child until you start to prove you're not. It is true I used some technology of your design, and it is also true that I claimed the technology was mine. What you did would only be laughed at. You had no proof that the technology was yours, so accusing me was pointless. You don't get what you lost back, my boy, you get even!"

The boy continued to look away, his blue eyes clouded over with thought. The huge hand that slammed into the side of his face, therefore, almost threw him across the car. Blinking, the boy turned turned back to the older man, wiping the blood off his split lip.

He was used to being slapped, it happened most days of his life. Most days, he was too tired to dwell on the pain it caused. Not today, though. Today, it hurt like hell. The older man snapped his hand out one more time and seized the boy's chin. It had been a lot easier to do when the boy was younger, back then the boy was shorted. Now, he stood a good head taller then Gozaburo. Still, Gozaburo managed it.

Pulling the boy so that Gozaburo was looking down at him, he hissed; "Listen to me, boy. You may be my adopted son, but I can sent you right back right back to where you came from. If you persist in being rude, then trust me boy, you will regret it!"

The boy blinked, then ripped his chin back from the man's grasp. This earned him another harsh slap, but the boy didn't care. He knew he probably wouldn't be let away from his books until some crazy hour tomorrow morning, but he didn't care about that either.

This boy was Seto Kaiba. He was tall, far too thin, and dark shadows formed under his striking blue eyes. He hated this man sitting next to him, but he never knew what to do, nor what the point of doing anything was.

Sighing, Seto shifted in his seat. His back hurt.


Well, there you have it, the kind of stuff I randomly feel compelled to write. If y'all wanna see more, then pretty please drop a review? Please? C y'all later!