#flow statement

xx

He sat up from his spot on the couch.  He hadn't been asleep per say, but he had been dozing between interesting parts of the cartoons he was watching.

So the knock this late at night roused him.  For a moment all he could imagine was a snowy haired demon.  But he would never knock.

He was drawn up to his feet as he made his way to the door.  He only cracked it at first, but when Seto came into view he felt calmed.

Odd.

"Hey..." he opened the door a little more.  "... wanna come in?"

“Wanna come in?”

Seto feels a heavy weight on his limbs, on his eyelids. If he weren’t certain that his shoes were Testonis, he’d have assumed they were made of lead. He’s not entirely sure why he’s landed himself at Ishtar’s apartment at this point, and he doesn’t want to think about it. Autopilot brought him here, simple as that.

He’s been awake for... a while. If he’s counting correctly, it’ll be somewhere around forty hours in about twenty minutes. He almost grimaces.

He looks at Marik silently for a moment as the question sits between them. And then he nods, before stepping through the space left for him. He clears his throat.

“... Sorry if I woke you. I just...” He can’t seem to find the right words. His forefinger and thumb press against either side of the bridge of his nose, trying to release some of the building pressure.

og ask post

This had been a rather problematic development. Tho he shouldn’t have been so surprised. No, Kaiba had a knack for being in the way. He wasn’t quite sure how Kaiba was able to discover his hiding place but it didn’t really matter. He should have expected Kaiba getting involved as a “when” and not an “if”.

“Such a flare for the dramatics, Kaiba…”

He sighed, sitting cross legged on his couch in his apartment, the tv playing. His hand was on the rod, but the pathetic sight of his bruised face made it seem less of a threat and more of a passive warning.

“if you can believe it, I don’t take you to consideration, living or otherwise.”

Seto almost feels sympathy. Almost.

As bruised and broken as Marik looks, he’s still trouble with a capital T. Especially with that rod sitting next to him. He shouldn’t even have that thing - it was buried with all the other millennium items. Though they didn’t all stay buried, the rod wasn’t among the ones that had surfaced during KaibaCorp’s dig.

“You’re pathetic.”

He crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame. This man is no physical threat to him. Seto has had to put himself through the ringer to do what he does, and keeps his routine to this day. And if all else fails, one press of a button will have a number of men descending upon this place quicker than Marik would be able to run.

x

Nope, he’s gonna get a crack of a smile for his troubles!

“I’d make a joke about our chemistry, but I don’t think I’ll get a reaction.”

xx

The game was on now. Marik knew that his home, per say, wasn't being watched. However he was sure by now Kaiba had found a way to track his phone, work schedule, the whole nine yards.

So what could he do to keep things interesting?

Little inconsistencies. Leaving his phone at home when going to work, or some days leaving his phone at work when going home. Pulling money out of his account to pay cash so it was harder to pin things down. Buying a pre-paid flip phone with that cash. Taking alternative roots to work. All the obvious calling cards of being up to something.

So he was sure the next time he had his phone and took the most straight forward path he knew he would run into his new playmate. Tho he didn't expect to be ambushed so close to his home, in broad daylight, after a morning shift. He made a suprised sound as he was shoved up against the wall. He glanced up his heart pounding in his chest as he was pinned. But after a moment he smirked.

"Aww, honey if you missed me you could have just called."

Seto hasn’t been paying a large amount of attention to the Ishtars. Just an average number of hours per week. He has a division for surveillance - marked as something unobtrusive for outside eyes - and that division only has a handful of people assigned to personal projects that he’s assigned.

Marik and his siblings just happen to be one of them.

So when the youngest started acting strange, he was notified. Eyes were kept open a little wider. Looked a little longer.

Eventually, he decided that he would have to step in. He already told Marik to watch himself.

Now here he is, pinning the Egyptian to a brick wall with a hand on either side of his head. Seems to be the only way Seto can get him to stay put.

Noise.

         Noise.

                      There’s so much... noise.

The lights overhead buzz with electricity. The vents along the floor and ceiling hum as air passes in and out. The keys of his laptop tap, tap, tap, as he types away. There is still so much work to be done. But he can’t focus. His brain turns to static as his fingers freeze mid-sentence.

Why is this happening? He’s not sure. This does occur occasionally: he’s unable to get anything done because the ambient noises of his quiet office overtake his consciousness and drive him up the wall. He’s fixed this in the past by playing audio books or some Domeniconi. Today, neither works. He slides his fingers across the screen of his phone and holds it to his ear.

“Isono. I’m rescheduling the meeting for this afternoon.” He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ve got a slot open tomorrow morning, if memory serves.”

There’s the sound of affirmation, a “yes, sir”. Isono knows better than to ask why, but does inquire as to whether or not he would like a car. He says no. That would be too... complicated right now.

He snaps his computer shut, packs it up, ends the call. And he leaves.

It’s cool out, but he’s forgone a jacket. It feels a little strange, he’s lighter, more open. That’s new.

The cafe closest to headquarters is a rather small one. He hasn’t stepped foot inside in a long time. But when he enters, the barista lights up. He still remembers the executive’s order: esmeralda geisha, black, poured over ice. There’s a moment where he’s a little surprised that they still stock it - it’s expensive, and he’s been told he’s the only one that orders it. The man behind the counter only smiles and shrugs as the transaction takes place.

Seto takes the drink as its ready and settles at the back of the dining space, at a table pushed up against the wall. And as he sits, nursing the cold coffee between wiry fingers, he begins to relax.

xx

Marik frowned a bit from his seat.  His eyed turned to the other Man, who was still saying something, Marik had stopped listening.  

He slowly reached out his foot and nudged the other's with his foot.

"Hey let's roll that back.  You never had anything good happen when you trusted someone?  Not even in like short term?"

Seto pauses mid-sentence as he feels a pressure on his arm. He looks down to see Ishtar’s foot and immediately frowns. Even with socks on, he finds it... a little off-putting.

He grabs the man’s ankle and pushes it as far as he can back towards its owner.

“Don’t do that.”

This couch is not big enough for him to get any further away, or he’d be moving. Still, it’s not enough for him to want to get up and find another perch. He looks at Marik, expression neutral.

@x-mokuba-x

Mokuba glanced up from the computer which was settled into their lap as the sound of Seto's voice issued from the door of the dimly lit bedroom.

Of course, it was not surprising that Seto could sense that there was something amiss and that Mokuba was hiding that fact from as many people as possible. Seto was basically the only friend that the younger Kaiba had; certainly he was the person that knew them the best out of anyone in the world.

Even so, there was still a moment in which the young entrepreneur considered lying and saying that everything was fine.

Seto had been through a lot in the last few years and Mokuba tried their hardest to not add more to his plate.

But it was impossible to lie to Seto. They just did not have it in them. Mokuba set aside the laptop they had been working on and turned to look at the other and said, "Hey Seto. I ah… I dunno, bro. I think I just have some hardcore burnout. I mean, I get you having to take off and all of that. I'd never hold that against you. It has just been a lot of work filling your shoes and holding down the fort while you were gone and while you have been settling back in."

Mokuba quickly lifted their hands, immediately waving them dismissively and continuing, "Not that I mind. Because I don't. Take all the time you need to get your sea-legs back, you know? You don't have to rush back into the saddle. I'm just… I'm used to playing support. I'm not usually the tank when it comes to all this.. It's fine, bro."

It’s fine, bro.

Obviously, it isn’t. Seto has done enough running from his own mental problems to recognize when there’s something wrong. And out of everyone in the world, every single person on this planet, Mokuba is the one he worries about the most - the one that he cares about the most. He doesn’t want to see his little brother suffer any more than they already have.

He pushes off of the doorframe he’d been leaning against and steps into the room in earnest. As the door shuts behind him, they are alone in their own space. There’s safety here. At least - he hopes that the younger Kaiba feels that way.

Seto pads over to take up a post on the bed, half-sitting with one foot still planted on the floor. He levels a look at Mokuba.

“If you need time, take it.” He pauses, considering how best to phrase his words. He’s not good at this kind of thing, never really has been. But he’s damn well going to try. “I’ll handle it.”

When he says it, part of him is already bracing for impact. The weight of responsibility is about to hit hard again. But that’s okay - he’s held it for years. He’s the older brother; he’s taken care of them both since they were little, and he will continue to take care of them until he can’t any longer.

Mokuba has already gone through so much. And to add on to that with his stunt in the afterlife... He shouldn’t have done it.

xx

Yugi had been sitting on a barstool at the counter in his kitchen, his head resting on his arms which were crossed over the surface. The only light in the apartment coming from the single flickering candle he had been watching gradually burn down, dripping wax onto the frosting of the cheap, store bought cupcake he had grabbed from the corner store. He wasn't going to bother making a wish.

That is until the message chime issued from his phone and the screen was illuminated with the notification bubbles. For a moment the blue light of the phone was harsh on his eyes, but by the time the second and third message came through, he had blinked through the discomfort.

He couldn't help but smile at the simple words on the screen. He didn't even know that Kaiba knew when his birthday was.

[Yugi Mutou]: Thanks, Seto. :) [Yugi Mutou]: No, I don't have plans. I mean. Do I look like a man that EVER has a plan? [Yugi Mutou]: Why? Do you wanna hang out with me?

Seto is motionless for a minute. He doesn’t normally initiate these kinds of activities, doesn’t go out of his way to associate with anyone. The only birthday he’s ever really cared about before is Mokuba’s. He gets Isono a small gift on his, too. It’s a toss-up every year as to whether or not he’ll remember Fuguta’s.

But... Yugi is different. He’s important. The executive had honestly expected him to have something going on, even with his friends out of town. He supposes, though, that things have still been rough. The man might still be shut in most of the time. God knows Seto still is.

He sighs. There really isn’t a way to play this off as casual, is there?

sms: Maybe.

His eyes turn to the small package he has sitting on his desk, wrapped neatly in plain black paper. He’s already gone to this amount of trouble - might as well continue.

sms: I can be there in an hour.

It could actually be less, but he’s not trying to look eager.