Thanks for the Memo
I'm not random. You're just not thinking as fast as I am.
"…What the hell was that?" Seto asked, raising an eyebrow. "Repeat that one."
"It says, 'I'm not random. You're just not thinking as fast as I am.'"
Mokuba had taken to asking to look at the love letters Seto got and reading some of the sappier ones out loud, causing them both to laugh at some of the ridiculous things some of the girls (or sometimes guys) had written. He then carefully shredded each letter.
This, however, was not a sappy love letter.
Seto pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, then looked up from his computer to give his little brother a confused and annoyed stare. "One more time?"
"'I'm not random. You're just not thinking as fast as I am,'" Mokuba repeated, looking puzzled. He looked up at his brother and frowned. "That's different."
"Nope. Just those lines." The younger Kaiba scowled and looked at the envelope. "And it just has your name on the envelope."
"…Weird. Let me see the writing." The brunet glanced over the writing and frowned. He'd never seen it before, which was strange; he had a photographic memory. He thought he recognized bits and pieces, but not enough to pinpoint the person. "This is going to bug me now."
"Maybe he or she will send you another one?" Mokuba suggested, shrugging innocently.
Seto tossed the note into one of his desk drawers and sighed. "Maybe. It still bugs me."
"I know. That's just… weird." He smiled. "Maybe it was to catch your attention!"
"Yeah… It's caught, alright. And it's annoying."
I don't judge you.
Seto felt his eyebrow twitch. Once he'd recognized the writing and the envelope, he'd ripped it open as soon as he was in the limo. This one wasn't as interesting as the first, but it struck a nerve.
He didn't care if anyone judged him. He was judged on a regular basis; why should he care? So why did this mean something to him?
It wasn't supposed to. Damn this strange person.
When stressed, write the word "stressed" on a card. Hold the card up in front of a mirror. Eat what the mirror tells you to.
"It spells 'desserts!'" Mokuba exclaimed, running in holding a hand mirror and a card with the word "stressed" on it. "You need to eat desserts!"
Seto raised an eyebrow. "…I doubt eating a piece of cake will make me feel better, Mokuba. This merger is taking a lot out of me; it won't help."
The younger boy scowled. "I demand that you eat some chocolate! …And I demand that you eat the chocolate this person sent you!" he exclaimed, pointing into the box that the card had been on top of.
"Eat it, I say!"
Seto sighed but took a piece of chocolate fudge from the box. He looked it over carefully, then stuck it in his mouth. As soon as it touched his tongue, it began to melt. He had to admit, the texture was delicious and the taste was to die for.
Mokuba took a picture of the small smile on his face before he could come to his senses.
You're a little more than what I call amazing.
Mokuba found the camera to be his best friend. He'd gotten a picture of Seto blushing. Blushing. Can you believe that?
When the rest of the world turns its back on you, I'll still be there. I promise.
Seto leaned his head back on his seat, frowning. There had been many days he'd wanted someone—anyone—to be there for him, when the rest of the world seemed to want him to fail. Now that he had that one person, he didn't even know who they were. Just this secret person whose notes were not only uplifting but held close to his heart.
Each and every note he'd gotten he'd stored in the—until then—empty drawer of his desk. Often, late at night, when he was lonely, he'd pull them out and read them to himself, smiling at the funny ones and sighing at the meaningful ones.
The meaningful ones would be even more meaningful if he knew who the person sending them was.
I'm not stupid; I'm more intelligent than you give me credit for. Thinking you'd catch me; that was pretty clever of you. But that's not when I deliver these notes.
Thanks for not judging my pathetic lack of knowledge.
Seto growled and thumped his head against his desk. He'd been watching his locker at all available times of the day; he'd even asked one of the hall monitors to keep an eye on it. No one had seen anything. Neither had he. All he had seen was the mutt every once in a while, but never near his locker.
He wanted to know who it was sending him these notes; they were on his mind all of the time. Sometimes he just wanted to find this person and find out whether they were really as loyal and caring as they made themselves out to be.
A little voice in the back of his head added that kissing them senseless wouldn't be a bad idea either.
I know you're perfect so you expect perfection from everyone close to you. I'm not perfect. …But I wonder, will you accept me if I'm perfectly imperfect?
He'd accept the mysterious person perfect, imperfect, upside-down and backwards, as long as he finally—finally—got to see who it was. This was driving him insane.
Even Mokuba had to admit that this was getting ridiculous. A normal person would have shown themselves by now.
Your agitation is dully noted. I can't tell you who I am. You'd never accept me. But if you figure it out for yourself, I'm sure I can accept you hating me then. I'll give you a hint.
I'm a blond, you're a brunet; I may have more fun, but you're more intelligent than I could ever hope to be.
Seto now had it narrowed down to twenty-seven blonds in his school. Sixteen of them were ruled out because they were female, and the mysterious writer had used the masculine form 'blond' instead of the feminine form 'blonde.' That left eleven boys to choose from. He was currently checking all of their schedules to see which one could be leaving the notes in his locker.
You weren't supposed to mean that much to me
And I was never supposed to fall in love with you.
Please don't hate me.
No one could have been leaving the notes. No one approached his locker except him during the day. So how were the notes getting into his locker?!
"I swear I'm going to kill something!" Seto exclaimed angrily, slamming his hands on his desk. "No one stays after school, no one comes early, and no one comes to my stupid locker during the day!"
"…What about people serving detentions?" Mokuba suggested, frowning. "They stay longer than any of the clubs."
"…Sometimes I wonder how you got to be so devious," the brunet stated, frowning.
The younger teen smiled innocently. "I'm your younger brother. It's my job to be devious. This is probably the only time my devious mind will work to your advantage though."
I want someone I can run to
With tears running down my face
And the first thing he says is,
"Whose ass am I kicking, babe?"
Please don't hate me.
Seto frowned. He knew he could be that someone. He wanted to be that someone.
But from all of the notes ending with 'please don't hate me,' he was the one currently causing those tears.
Joey looked at the envelope in his hands and sighed, then looked up at the shelf he always left the envelope on so Seto would be able to see it. "…Well, I guess you're the last one. Kaiba won't be getting anymore of these. He's getting too close to finding out who I am."
"You could just hand it to me, mutt."
The blond squeaked and turned quickly to find Seto leaning against the wall next to him. He took a step back and bit his bottom lip, ready to turn and run. "K-Kaiba, I—"
"May I see it?" he asked, as if it was perfectly normal for someone who fought with him on a regular basis to leave love notes in his locker. "It's for me, isn't it?"
"Um… I was just…" Joey looked down at his feet and sighed in defeat, holding the envelope out to him. "Here…"
Seto took the envelope and opened it slowly, eyes trained on the blond shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. Once he had the letter out, he glanced down at it. "'Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit.'" He raised his eyes back to the teen in front of him. "A quote by Peter Ustinov, if I'm not mistaken."
"…Yeah," the blond admitted quietly.
"You were the one leaving these in my locker? Every single one of them? Even on the days I humiliated you?"
Joey hesitated before raising his head and looking into the brunet's intense blue ones. "Every single one of them, even on the days you humiliated me."
"Because when you love someone, you don't care how much they hurt you," he answered softly, lowering his gaze back to the floor. "…No matter how much you hurt me…"
Seto reached over and brushed the hair out of his face. "And you said this was the last one? Why?"
"So you wouldn't find out who I am and hate me even more than you already do." He bit his bottom lip and gripped his hands into fists. "…I'll just go now."
As he began to walk past him, the brunet held his arm out to stop him, frowning. "I wasn't finished talking to you."
Joey turned toward him sharply, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "I know you're just gonna call me names and tell me how much of a worthless, dirty mutt I am! You're gonna tell me how stupid I am, how worthless I am! I don't want—"
Seto grabbed the back of his head and yanked him forward into a bruising kiss. The blond yelped in surprise and grabbed the taller teen's shirt before trying to take a step back, trying to escape. He whimpered as he was tugged back and turned his head quickly, breaking the kiss and hiding his face from view by leaning it against the taller boy's chest.
"Whadja do that for?" he asked accusingly, not looking up at him.
The brunet raised an eyebrow. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?"
Joey looked up at him angrily. "If I have to choose between you yelling at me and you toying with me then I'd rather have you yell at me!"
Seto narrowed his eyes at him. "I know you think I'm a jerk, mutt, but I'm not cruel. I don't love you. I'm attracted to you, but I don't love you. …Yet."
"What do you mean—"
"We can try this out and see what happens. It's not going to be a fairytale relationship, but we can try."
Joey blinked at him for a few seconds, letting the information sink in, before his mouth curved into a hesitant smile. "Really?"
"Really," the brunet replied, managing a small smile for him.
"Okay." The younger teen's smile broadened. "Thanks! Um… I'd really like that."
"I know," Seto replied, swinging his locker shut and wrapping an arm around the blond's shoulders. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"My house. …Where you will rewrite each and every one of your notes so it's in your handwriting."
Joey frowned. "Do I have to?"
Seto smirked. "Yes, so I can tell that it was you who wrote it for me. …Where did you find these quotes, anyway?"
"Except for the last? The internet, duh. …Well, that's a lie. I made a few of them up myself."
"And where'd you get the fudge?"
"Uh… I made that myself. Did you not like it?"
Seto raised an eyebrow as he turned his head only to be met with wide, innocent brown eyes. He frowned at the expression of utter despair on his pup's face. "No, I loved it. I was just wondering where I could buy some more. …Are you sure you made it, pup?"
Joey scowled at him and placed his hands on his hips indignantly. "Of course I'm sure! I made that with all the care in my heart! See if I make anything for you again, ya jerk!"
"No, that's not what I meant-!"
"No fudge for you!" The blond gasped as Seto grabbed him around the waist when he began to walk away, then looked up at him quickly. "Kaiba?"
The brunet frowned at him. "You shouldn't act so cute, puppy."
"How was I— Mmph!" Joey gasped as he was yanked into another kiss before rolling his eyes and returning it. If Seto wanted to kiss now and argue later, he wasn't going to complain.