Awakening
He knew he was not dead. He never had been. Fatal accidents were only deadly to those without a fate to live on for. And no one had a greater future ahead of them than Noah Kaiba, son to one of the most succesful weapon manufacturers in the world and heir to his empire. He was alive! Within the endless world of his mind, Noah Kaiba was still very much alive, with his own helpless body for a prison.
The nurse cleaned his body methodically, the way she had for the better part of five years now, after her predecessor had retired. She undressed the limb body, not even noticing the way his head lolled back and forth anymore. She dunked the sponge into the luke warm water that might as well have been cold, for all its recipient cared and applied it to his arms, torso and legs. The face always came last, then she washed his hair.
There was only one nurse assigned to the care of Noah Kaiba, one nurse and an aging guard, and they were probably the only ones that knew the purpose of the small out of town facility that still bore the weathered old Kaiba Corp logo but was otherwise unremarkable. There were more of them, on paper, but there really wasn't anything to do. No one cared whether the many unused rooms were covered in dust and dirt so high you couldn't see what was beneath, and no one was there to care about whether or not they could actually see through the windows.
It was merely her sense of decency and a good upbringing, the nurse told herself, that made her clean Noah's room from time to time. That, and the old guard told her to, and he'd been here before her, and she didn't want to agravate him. Kaiba Corp paid their salaries, theirs and that of whoever else might technically be employed here, but except for some accountant on some floor of the huge skyscraper the company called its head office, the two doubted anyone even remembered them.
The middle aged woman dried the comatose boy's hair, not giving the unusual greenish blue color much thought anymore. She used to wonder about it, and all kinds of other things, like why no one ever came to visit him, why not even a doctor came to check up on him, or if he'd be sad and lonely if he ever woke up. She hadn't had those thoughts in a while though, and while this might not be the most exciting job in the world, it did pay the bills and got her son through college, and she took small favors where she got them.
He wasn't really a boy anymore. In fact, he'd have to be over twenty by now, even though he didn't really look it. His face was eternally that of a sleeping angel, soft bangs of clumsily cut hair hanging into his for ever closed eyes. She wasn't sure how tall he was, but he seemed small and fragile lying in his bed, and unnaturally pale because he never saw much daylight. He was beautiful though, she thought absentmindedly, this boy that never woke up to realize that, unbeknownst to himself, he'd become a man.
How odd that had to be, should he ever wake up.
*
Mokuba Kaiba had a pretty good life.
He had a loving brother who, despite the fact that most of his time was taken up by his company, still asked him how school was going almost every day and who, occasionally, checked his homework. Nothing beat having a genius for a private tutor.
Seto didn't have enough time to go to the movies with him, but he did have a huge home cinema installed so that they could squeeze whatever blockbuster Mokuba wanted to watch in between Seto's working hours.
Bringing home friends wasn't much of an option; the gigantic mansion intimidated even the boldest high school kid and the gaming room caused open jealousy at best, and he didn't need the fake friendship it brought out in others. But that was okay, because with Seto being at Kaiba Corp more often than not, he hardly noticed when Mokuba stayed out late into the night, hanging out with anyone jaded enough not to care about his last name.
But it wasn't like Seto never spent time with him, he did. And Mokuba honestly believed – made himself believe – that his brother didn't avoid him on purpose. They'd play chess together, as they had for as long as he could remember, with Seto teaching him because he wasn't really any competition, or he got to beta-test the latest video games that wouldn't hit the market for another six months.
Seto took care of him, in every way he knew.
Of course, there were things Seto was thoroughly unqualified to be of any help for, especially if one was a curious fifteen year old going through puberty, a physical and psychological process one Seto Kaiba obviously liked to pretend happened to other people, but not him. There was simply no way Mokuba was going to his older brother for 'the talk'; fortunately, the internet made for a wonderful substitute on that front.
However, coming out of the closet in an online forum didn't make the idea of a real life coming-out any more appealing to him. He wasn't sure someone as close to asexual as Seto might possibly react to the news of his little brother being gay. And not the uncertain maybe kind, but the verified and very much sure of it kind of gay.
One part of him argued that Seto loved him as he did few things in the world, and that his sexual orientation couldn't possibly change that. That wasn't even his main concern. Hell, finding his older brother somewhat attractive wasn't it either. The problem was that Seto was opposed to even the thought of physical contact, which made talking about anything even remotely concerning sex horribly awkward.
So yeah, he just didn't feel like he could talk to Seto about that. It was an intimate topic, and if there was one thing they hadn't been in years – if ever, really – it was intimate.
Sweet fifteen and unable to talk to his legal guardian about what really mattered to him. Yeah, he sure had a fucking good life.
*
The first time he awoke, truly awoke, he didn't know where he was. He paniced, his heart raced, he tried to see, but his eyes hurt and it was dark. He fought as his body dragged him under the heavy blanket of sleep again. He was afraid, so very afraid that he would not wake up again, but there was nothing he could do.
The second time there was someone in the room with him. He saw a human shape, but couldn't make it out. 'Father?', he wanted to say, but no words came out, his body still not responding to his will. There were voices, too, shrill voices, but before he could make out the words he fell asleep yet again.
From then on, it happened more often. He would wake up, feeling disorientated, confused and, usually, alone. It seemed to take his eyes forever to open completely and without pain, and even longer to make out and identify the objects around him. He was obviously in some sort of hospital room, and his injuries had to be severe, for he couldn't move at all at the beginning. Even the minuscule act of turning his head left him exhausted.
There was a turning point when, for the first time, he could look someone in the eye and was afirmed that he was taken care of. Well, of course he was. The nurse seemed rather excited at his recovery, which was certainly flattering, if entirely unnecessary. He wanted to see his father and wondered where he was, why he hadn't been brought to him yet. But he figured he had work to do, and maybe he'd been here while Noah had been asleep. Yes, that had to be it.
He couldn't talk yet, or do much of anything except look at things, but as the fluttering nurse assured him, he would be alright, so his doctor had to be sure of his complete revival. He was curious as to what injuries he had received exactly, as he didn't feel any pain, but he told himself to be patient, just as his father had taught him. He didn't want to disgrace him, even in a situation like this.
The days went on and he slept most of them away, until he finally managed to force out a single word: “Fa...ther...“, his voice was croaked and hoarse, like he hadn't used it in a long time, but he thought it came out coherently enough. His nurse froze in mid-motion and looked down at him in, what, pity? He didn't want pity, and what for anyway!
She petted his head and he wished he could bat her hands away, but he was forced to endure the unwanted affection and compassionate mumbling. He wasn't a child that needed fussing over!
It was then that he finally realized, looking down his lanky body, that he really, really wasn't a child anymore. He managed to twitch one of his fingers on a hand too big for him and an arm way too long. His eyes went wide, he gasped, the beeping machine registering his heart rate going crazy – and he fell asleep once more.
Trouble A'brewing
Seto's hands kneaded the skin over his temples and forehead, his current frustration stemming from a persistant headache that even his very potent pain killers could not tame. Or maybe the stress had caused the head ache in the first place. No matter, it was keeping him from doing his work.
The board and directors meeting had gone reasonably well, as these things tended to go when one's company made the kind of profit Kaiba Corp did and everyone knew whom to thank for it. Almost being of age helped considerably, he had to admit. It was different facing these men now than it had been a few years ago, easier in every way. But he had fought for every tiny bit of respect, never giving it any less than his all, never backing off even an inch.
The cup next to his laptops was filled to the brim with cold, black coffee. He hadn't touched it and with his raging headache figured he wouldn't have any of the liberating brew any time soon. His physician had reprimanded him about his high cafeine consumption as it was.
He leaned back in his chair and noticed how dark it had gotten outside. It had to be past eight already. One glance at his watch made him add another hour and he decided that calling it a day was probably a good idea.
It was almost ten by the time he shut down the system and headed down to meet his driver.
At age twenty, Seto was everything any young man wanted to be: Famous, rich, popular and successful. The first three he could have done without, although the second was certainly useful. It was the success that mattered most to him though. It meant he was superior to the competition, stronger and smarter and just plain better.
His image was regularly seen on magazine covers, with him threatening his PR department every time it started to get out of hand. He didn't mind the scientific journals, he even wrote for them sometimes as he was openly interested in the developments in gaming technologies. Being 'Domino's most eligible bachelor' however, that he could do without, and he didn't care for discussions of his love life or possible affairs, though those were rare simply for lack of material.
As one reporter had once remarked, Seto was all business, all the time, and the young CEO saw nothing wrong with that assassment. His success was what he had build his and Mokuba's happiness on, and he was not going to relinquish it for something as feeble and vain as a love affair.
The mansion's house keeper greeted Seto at the door when he returned home, about a quarter past ten. He powered up his home computer system and gave the security logs a quick glance, finding nothing out of the ordinary at first. Then he noticed the absence of a note concerning Mokuba's return home and his eyes narrowed. His guards wouldn't have missed him, he had them on high allert at all times.
Eyes narrowed in disapproval and a hint of worry and fished his cell phone out of his pocket, Mokuba's number being the first on his speed dial.
He got a dialing tone, but no answer, then it went to voice mail. Seto snapped the phone shut, not bothering to leave a message. Why the hell wasn't Mokuba answering his phone? Better yet, why wasn't he home yet?
He rushed to his brother's room just in case, but of course he wasn't there, nor did the empty room give him any hint as to his where abouts. Nothing in there seemed out of place, except for a general disorderliness that one wouldn't encounter in any of Seto's own rooms.
He considered calling the police – this wouldn't be the first more or less successful attempt at kidnappig – but decided to wait just a little longer while he tried to reach Mokuba's cell yet again. And again. The missed calls should be a clear message, he thought, if his brother had forgotten the time and his curfew. What was he doing, on a school night no less?
Not quite half an hour later, Seto had managed to circle the lobby an uncounted one hundred times and finally decided to spaned a late night with an overworked police officer when his call rang and security informed him that a taxi carrying his little brother had just passed the front gate.
Crossing his arms over his chest and forcing himself not to tap his foot with impatience he waited what seemed like an eternity until the door was pushed open and Mokuba's form stumbled in, not quite like Seto had imagined he would. He was closer to falling than walking and Seto rushed over to support him, only to be greeted by the distinct smell of smoke and alcohol.
The reek distracted him to such an extend that it took him a moment to notice the way his brother looked (aside from horribly drunk). His sleeve-less shirt was all but see-through, not to mention that it didn't even attempt to cover his stomach, and the pants, so tight that they left nothing to the imagination, really didn't help. Neither did Mokuba's giggling at Seto's obvious reaction of shock.
It seemed he tried to say something, but only laughter came out. Seto was rarely as a loss for words, but nothing he had done so far had prepared him for the sight of his baby brother in a state like this. Mokuba then proceeded to empty the meager contents of his stomach onto the entrance hall's carpet.
“It's just paint, Seto, not an actual tattoo!”
And it wasn't like Seto himself had never given thought to a Blue Eyes White Dragon marking his skin, but that wasn't the point. That the dragon's head was way below the level of any decent pair of pants wasn't it either.
“I don't have to actually be eighteen to go to a club! I know what I'm doing.”
There were several things profoundly wrong with this statement.
“I was out dancing, okay? And drinking, yeah, so what? I was having fun. Figures the concept would be alien to you.”
There had been a time where Mokuba wouldn't have dreamed of talking to him in such a tone.
“Come on, Seto! We agreed I didn't need bodyguards! I feel like some animal on a leash with them around!”
Seto was glad that he, at least, knew what was best for his little brother.
*
He managed to stay awake for a full hour yesterday. Or however long ago it was. That was progress. The hospital room had changed a little every time he opened his eyes, but that could just be his imagination. He learned that he had a full team of doctors assigned to him, and more than one nurse, too. He never heard any noises typically associated with a hospital though, so he figured he had to be far away from other patients. Of course, his father would make sure he got several rooms to himself, and only the best of care, so he could quickly recover.
Every time his eyes opened, he forced himself to look at this strangely grown body of his, to become familiar with it. So he was older now, what did it matter? He could deal with that. He made rapid progress on all fields, or so the doctors assured him with enthusiasm. He could speak a few words at a time, but his voice was hoarse from not having been used in so many years. He slowly regained controll of his too long limbs, too.
The day he first managed to sit up without assitance he laughed out loud, amazed and happy and relieved.
It took longer for his legs to support him and he fell the first time he tried. It sent the doctors and nurses into a panic which in turn made him shout at them furiously. He wasn't disabled, he was merely inconvenienced, and wouldn't be for much longer anyway.
He wasn't sure how much time lay between that outfurst of fury and his first independend walk through his room, but he knew it was the day he finally insisted on seeing his father. He needed to see him now, not later. He remembered it as the day he learned of his father's death.
*
On that day, Seto had thought that what had happened would never leave his mind. That he would think of it daily, that not an hour would pass without the consious knowledge of what he had done, that it would forever be burned into his mind.
And it was true, the memory never faded. It was as clear today, with years in between, as it had been a second after the event. But he didn't think of it as often as he used to. He could look at the wide glass panels behind his desk and not see them broken. He could sit in his chair and not imagine an older, long disposed of model. He could face the members of his board of directors, even the oldest, and not remember the man they had served befor him.
It wasn't anything in particular that made him think of the cruel man that was his adoptive father. It wasn't the gray clouds, heavy with unfallen rain, nor the old carpets on seventh floor he had walked down earlier that day, nor the stale, bitter coffee in his mug. No, the memory krept up on him unbidden, and found him unprepared, like it always did.
It was a cold shiver down his neck and a faint phantom pain on his back and the illusion of a choking force around his throat. It lasted maybe a second before he cast off the shadow of his past and moved on, deliberately working on repressing the old sensation for the rest of the day.
*
Noah had a lot of experience with hate. Hate, disdain, animosity, hostility, contempt, spite – he knew them all quite well, had learned from the best. But nothing he had ever felt even came close to compare itself to his current state of mind, focused on a single person who, he thought, might drop dead just from being the center of his hatred:
Seto Kaiba.
It took him the better part of a week to calm down and realize that he wasn't a threat to anyone in his current state, which only meant that his recovery became all the more imperative. His father may be gone, but he had left him a purpose that couldn't be clearer: revenge for his legacy.
To recover from a coma and regain full health within a year was impossible, or so the doctors said. But from what Noah had gathered, his waking up alone still baffled them. So he decided to become a miracle: a year from now he would face this Seto Kaiba and take back what was rightfully his.
He woke up regularly now, every morning, the mental image of the thief, the ursurper in front of his eyes. When he didn't force his nurses to take him through exercise after exercise for his strengthening body, he head papers and magazines featuring his rival, that boy who didn't know yet he had gained a frightening enemy. Seeing his face, cold and arrigant and so very sure of himself, gave Noah the energy to keep going, to push himself past his limits each and every day.
*
Kaiba Corp had changed in a lot of ways, even personnel wise, but the higher up the ranks, the less changes there were. In fact, most of those who made the real decisions about the company had known his father personally and if Noah's memory didn't fool him they had agreed with how Gozaburo Kaiba had lead the company. How they could now follow this new wannabe CEO who had turned Kaiba Corp into nothing short of a joke was beyond him. What mattered though, was that they would support him, like they had his father, and with his directors against him, what could one Seto Kaiba possibly do?
Noah pushed his wheelchair down the empty corridor, hating that he needed it, but there was nothing to be done about it, for now. When he had found out where exactly he was – somewhere around the outskirts of Domino City, right in the middle of nowhere – he had been furious, but by now he had decided to make that an asset, too. He was out of his enemy's sight, something he could use to his advantage.
And he could call those he needed to him. He had them followed and spied on, until he could be sure of their loyalty toward his father, and only then did he contact them. They came like a pack of obedient dogs, willing to do his bidding.
He had to open the door by hand before giving it a firm kick so he could pass it in his wheel chair. Sitting up straight and dressed in a spotless, dark business suit, he thought himself quite impressing, wheel chair or not.
The five men in the room, all seated around one heavy desk, quickly rose to their feet when he entered, only to sit down almost at once, uncomfortably noting his indisposition. He chose to ignore it and instead cut right to the chase.
“Gentlemen, I believe we have a problem.”
And so began his recapture of the company that should have been his from the start.
Finding out that his father had left him considerable amounts of Kaiba Corp stocks did help, but that alone would have been worthless, had it not been for the support of several board members. Having the company they had helped build turned into a toy had pained them just as it had Noah. His father had to be turning in his grave with rage.
Oh, but they would confront Seto, the boy undeserving of the family name he had stolen, and they would beat him as surely as the sun rose every morning to wake him.
Boys At War
“Mr. Kaiba, sir, you have a visitor.”
Seto looked up from a stack of documents, quarterly reports, with a frown. “I don't believe I have any appointments this afternoon.”, he replied, voice indicating his displeasure at the disturbence.
His secretary fidgeted with the clip board in her hands. “No, sir, but it seems rather urgent, and...”
“Isn't it always urgent?”, he slipped off his reading glasses, “Who is it, then?”
The woman didn't get a chance to answer. The door behind her was pushed open forcefully and a young man clad in a dark blue suit nothing short of stormed into his office. Seto had a moment to think that turquoise was a decidedly odd color of hair to have, when the stranger adressed his secretary, “That will be all, thank you.”
Seto had risen in his chair, anger paired with disbelief on his face. Who did he think he was? “I'm sure wherever you are from, etiquettes are vastly different, but this side of the equator people make appointments before they barge into a CEO's office.”, he snarled.
The green haired young man didn't seem disturbed by Seto's words. “Ah, and of course you know all about bad manners, don't you, Seto? Let me prove you wrong by setting a good example, as big brothers should, and introduce me.”, he made a short pause for dramatic purposes before finishing, “My name is Noah Kaiba.”
The secretary had been sent away; apparently Seto felt a need for privacy. Just as well. Noah enjoyed watching him think through all the ways that he could be lying, waiting for him to draw his conclusions.
“I'm sure you can prove your claim.”, he stated finally, the deep frown never leaving his face.
Noah shrugged and smiled confidently. “Of course.”, he answered and pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket, presenting it to Seto who immediately proceeded to check its contents.
His identification, history of his accident and coma, as well as his doctor's final assassment of his regained health. Yes, Seto could look them through all he wanted, but Noah was the real thing, more so than Seto himself.
“What do you want?”, the brunette finally spat out.
Noah allowed himself a chuckle. “Oh, Seto, dear, you need to ask? I want my company back, of course!”
That seemed to shake Seto to his core, but only for a moment. Then he laughed, a cold and calculated laugh. “Your company, is it? I recreated it, I built it, every part of it bears my signature.”, he had leaned a bit towards Noah when he had spoken, but now he drew himself up to his full height and Noah noted with a sting that he was a bit taller than himself. “And I don't recall giving you permission to use my first name.”
Now that was precious. “Well, how else would I adress you?”, he asked with a raised eye brow.
“I do prefer my business partners – and right now you hardly even rank that – to call me by my last name.”
Noah smiled politely, but even Seto would have been able to see through it. “I'll have to correct you, Seto, that is my last name you're talking about.”, he said quietly, but not without heat.
“I have earned the name, just like I have earned this company. It is mine in every sense of the word.”, and Seto believed that, Noah could tell, but had his voice not wavered ever so slightly just now? Maybe, if he kept pushing, just a bit more...
“Silly me”, he went on, “I though that being the founder and former CEO's only son made me his heir, the way I inherited his name when I was born. But I do understand, Seto, really I do. One has to give poor little orphans a chance to work for themselves, to earn a place in the world, bribe and trick themselves into a well-situated home with a good name to boot.”, he managed to look down on Seto despite the fact that he was technically smaller. “Everyone gets what they deserve, isn't that right, Seto?”
Seto's eyes narrowed dangerously. “You have five seconds to remove yourself from my office, before I call security.”, he pressed out the words like poison, but Noah was unimpressed.
“Whatever you say, little brother.”, he grinned broadly and skipped out of the room, letting the heavy door fall close behind him.
No security turned up. This round went entirely in his favor, he decided.
And now to see how his other new sibling had turned out.
*
Looking back, skipping school probably wasn't the most mature way to live out his anger. But ditching his escort had been entirely too easy to not tempt him, and now here he was. It was futile, at best. Even without his school uniform one couldn't mistake him for anything but a student. What got him into clubs wasn't his fake ID, but cash, simple as that.
Not really paying attention to where he was going, he kicked a pebble in front of him, and almost squeaked in surprise when it was kicked right back at him. Only then did he look up, and for a split second his mind tricked him into thinking it was Seto standing in front of him.
But the young man might have had a similar hair style, but it was all greenish blue, and his suit was darker than what Seto liked to wear, and he seemed broader around the shoulders, too.
And he smiled. Yep, definitely not Seto. Wishful thinking on his part.
“You must be Mokuba. I am so happy to finally meet you.”
Mokuba narrowed his eyes in what he hoped was a good imitation of his brother. “And who are you?”, he asked with suspicion. He had learned long ago not to trust strangers, especially friendly ones.
“How rude of me!”, the young man frowned at his own behavior, “I can't seem to get used to the fact that everyone forgot about me.”, he smiled ruefully. “I am Noah.”
Mokuba raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to mean anything to me? 'Cause in that case you're in for a big disappointment.”
A sad look crossed the other's face for a moment before he caught himself. “I see.”, he said with a sigh. “So he never told you about me.”, he shook his head. “I'm so sorry, Mokuba. I'm Noah Kaiba.”
Mokuba's eyes went wide as his head raced to catch up with this new development. “Kaiba... you're his son?”
Noah nodded.
“But why... you never, I mean, all those years...!”, he stuttered and finally caught himself because Seto hated it when he did that. “Where the hell have you been?”
Noah's shoulders sank and he seemed smaller than he really was. “There was an accident...”, it seemed he wanted to say more, but his legs gave out right under him and Mokuba only just managed to catch and steady him. “I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not quite back to full strength yet.”, he explained with a weak voice, leaning heavily against Mokuba.
“Are you alright?”, he asked, less careful now since Noah was obviously not any kind of threat.
“Yes. Yes, quite. I have a car nearby with... with a wheelchair.”, he gestured down the street where Mokuba saw a black Lexus looking very out of place in this neighborhood.
He helped Noah get there and a driver jumped out and produced a convertible wheelchair from the trunk. Noah sank into it as soon as it was set up. He looked uncomfortable in it and Mokuba figured that he'd hate being tied to it, too.
They walked together, with Mokuba pushing the wheelchair in front of him and Noah telling him about his accident, how he fell into a coma and only woke up from it about a year ago. He explained how hard he worked to get his body to function again and how the news of his father's death devastated him.
“I always thought I would inherit his company one day. It's all I ever wanted to do. Now I don't know.”, he looked back over his shoulder, “I met Seto today, and he all but threw me out.”, he said with a weird sad smile.
“His work means a lot to him. But he's not really mean, he just... he's not very good with people.”
“That's what he has you for though, right?”, Noah asked and Mokuba couldn't help but smile.
“Yeah, I guess.”
*
The next time Seto meets Noah is in one of the offices used for negotiations. It's one of the places he usually feels confident in because it's where he wins. It is here that he puts the heads of other companies in their place, bombarding them with facts and figures and sheer power.
Today however is different.
Noah enlisted a capable lawyer who found every possible loop hole to get his client into the company. Seto's company. He would not take it lying down.
He had got to hand it to the guy: he was clever. He knew exactly how to stage his entry and which department bosses to get on his side to make things as easy for him as possible. The wheelchair was an act as well and Seto saw right through it, even if nobody else did.
As soon as the door has closed behind them and their lawyers had settled on both sides of the table Noah stood up, pretending that his legs were still weak and that he had to work so very hard to leave it for even a moment. The effect was good. Seto recognized it as the trick it was, the tool of a weakling. He had always favored the direct approach himself.
“Are you quite done?”
Noah blinked with fake ignorance. “Whatever do you mean, Seto?”
Seto opened his white suit jacket and sits down at the table, sliding a folder with various documents over to Noah. “I have checked and double-checked your claims and they all come to nothing. This is not the company your father would have left you.”, he pretended he didn't hesitate for the fraction of a second over the word father, but he did and from the looks of it, Noah noticed it, too.
The odd-haired man flipped through the folder, not even pretending to read. “I noticed.”, he replied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. “The world's most advanced firm in weapons technology, and you turned it into a gaming company.”, there was open disgust in his voice, unsuccessfully concealed by his otherwise polite demeanor.
Seto actually relaxes a bit at those words. “Yes, I did. And I have to correct you, as a weapons developer Kaiba Corp was barely above average. Right now however it is one of the biggest Names in gaming worldwide.”, he claimed, and the figures backed him up. It was all true and he was immensely proud of it.
To his great annoyance though Noah didn't seem fazed by his argument at all. “Be that as it may, Seto, you couldn't have done so without the funds that came out of the original Kaiba Corp's assets. Without my father's company you'd be nothing but an orphan with a chess board.”, he smiled that condescending smile of his that Seto knew he'd grow to hate all too quickly given the chance. “It doesn't matter either way, because I still hold stock in Kaiba Corp, more than enough to get me on the board of directors.”
That gained Seto's full attention. “What?”, he snarled, casting a dark glance at his lawyer who was now fretting with his paperwork, trying to find out how that piece of information could have escaped his notice.
Noah looked entirely too pleased with himself. Seto made it his new goal in life to never give Noah a reason to look like that.
“My father was a very ressourceful man.”, Noah began to explain and handed a file over to Seto. “You may want to check your facts in light of this new information.”
Seto snatched the folder from his hand and handed it over to his lawyer. His eyes narrowed, but they never left Noah. He had learned a long time ago to never turn his back on his enemy, and Noah rated that description without dispute.
In the end Seto found that there really was no getting rid of Noah. He owned a substantial part of the company and was backed by all of the most notoriously annoying department heads he ever had the misfortune to employ.
He returned home late that night and left early, leaving only a quick note for Mokuba. Now was not the time to be domestic.
Seto entered his office only to encounter the unpleasant surprise of one Noah Kaiba sitting in his very own chair. His posture stiffened for a moment, mind numb with the memory of the last time someone else but him occupied that position.
“You have exactly ten seconds to explain your presence in my office.”, he spat, dropping his bag by the door.
Noah leaned forward, settling his chin on his hands. “Is that any way to greet your sibling, Seto?”, he chided with a playful tone to his voice.
Seto felt sick to his stomach. “Nine.”
“Tsk.”, the sweet smile fell away from Noah's face in the blink of an eye. “You really have abominable manners.”
The pose, the words, everything about him screamed at Seto about the man Noah would have been heir to and Seto knew this fight would be an uphill battle. But he was past all that, he had left it all behind him. He was a grown man and he would not be bullied and intimidated by anyone.
“Out.”, he forced the word out between his teeth, “Do remember that you might have tricked your way into this company, but I am still its CEO and I have no plans to resign.”, he had reached the table by now, looking down at Noah with a cold glare that had made grown men all but wet themselves. He told himself that it was this that made Noah rise from his seat.
But Noah didn't leave but kept standing right in Seto's personal space. He could not know how much Seto hated it when people did that and he stood his ground stubbornly.
“Oh, Seto...”, his face was so close now that he could feel his breath on his cheek. “You've been such a bad boy. Father would never have it. He'd see you properly punished...”
Seto choked on his next words, although he didn't even know what he would have said. He was frozen, staring straight ahead over Noah's shoulder. His mind was blank, as if his brain had crashed and needed to reboot before it could react. He swallowed and twitched visibly when Noah's hand came up to his throat.
“Ah. You do know that much at least, don't you?”, his hand tightened a bit, but stopped just short of choking him. “And don't you want to be a good boy for daddy...?”
The world came back all of a sudden and Seto took a sudden deep breath and a quick step back, the need for distance imperative. His heart was beating a mile an hour and his throat felt impossibly dry.
“Your father was a cruel man and no-one shed a single tear when he died.”, he growled, noting with pleasure that the words did not miss their mark. Noah was angry and Seto did so love revenge.
Noah walked past him towards the door, but turned around one last time. “The same is true for you.”, he said, not waiting for an answer before he left. He wouldn't have gotten one either way.
