Mokuba's Plan
By Pearl of the Dark Age

I began writing this fic down on paper on Feb. 6, 2006. I had the story in mind months before, but I finally got inspired to write fan fiction in January. I knew it would take me a while to write this story, but I did not know it would be four months! The funny part is that this one was written before the one to come because this one is shorter!

This fic has been rated M for a reason! If you have a preference for this and only this, then have patience! Because it will be a while yet. If you do not like this sort of stuff, do not read this fic! You have been warned and informed!

Author's Note: I stretched the age difference between Seto and Mokuba from 5 years to 9. Also, I have a lot of references. If you see a number in parenthesis, it corresponds to that number listed in the reference section, which is the very last chapter. Forgive me, please! This was my first, true fic. Most importantly, I do not condone running away. If you feel the need to run away - get help from a trusted adult or agency. Also, do not try any of Mokuba's plans. I doubt that they would work for you and could lead to potentially dangerous and/or hurtful situations!
Disclaimer: This is a fanfic. I do not own any part or whole of Yu-Gi-Oh or anything else referred to in this fic. I am not making any money off this, either. No copyright infringement is intended on the author's behalf. For full list of references see the last chapter.

Chapter 1

Like all thirteen year olds, Mokuba could not understand why his well thought out plan was backfiring. In retrospect, he knew that keeping his mouth shut about "sensitive" subjects achieved the best results. However, the results were that he stayed out of harm's way while no progress was actually accomplished.

No, Mokuba thought.This would not do anymore. Like all thirteen-year-olds, he felt he already knew everything. It was the first day of summer vacation, and Mokuba was spending the time wisely executing his plan in Seto's office at Kaiba Corp. He decided that taking a few blows was well worth the end result. Problem being the blows were always harder to take than anticipated. His older brother was as impassive and immovable as a glacier. Seto Kaiba was the boss.

No. I'm thirteen! I'm practically a man now! I should be able to throw my weight around, too, Mokuba agreed with himself earlier that day upon deciding to clean out the skeletons from the closet. But like all thirteen year olds, he was frustrated with the unfairness of it all. He had a plan: he needed to "fix" Seto's life.

Now, if you know Seto Kaiba, you know that this is a bad plan!

"Nii-sama! (7) Didn't you learn anything at the end of Battle City?" Mokuba asked, exasperated.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Seto replied without a pause in his typing. He was an expert at multi-tasking, which had taken a new specialty of late. He permitted pointless discussions with his pubescent brother about abstract things that had nothing to do with Kaiba Corp while he was busy doing three to four things already.

So, he's playing the feigned amnesia card! Mokuba knew from experience this was signaling the closure of the conversation. "What Yugi and Jonouchi said about friendship? How anger and hatred leads you to failure?" Mokuba persisted.

There was a small noise of assent coupled with a knowing look. "What's your point?" Seto asked. Normally, he would not allow such prattle while he was working; on the other hand, Mokuba always was allowed more leniency than others.

Pressing his advantage, Mokuba continued, "I know you've… uh… changed in a good way since…"

"We built Kaiba Land," Seto agreed. His eyes never left the computer screen, but he was - at least - listening.

Yes! It's working! Mokuba cheered mentally. He took a deep breath before the spectacular swan dive, "But you could still be a little nicer."

Silence. Mokuba had managed to get his nii-sama's undivided attention. Fingers stopped typing, his whole body turned towards Mokuba, and all went deathly quiet. The expression remained neutral, but this was never good. Seto let the silence spiral horribly. Mokuba fidgeted. Mokuba was sinking. He decided, against his better judgment, to go out in a blaze of glory. "Aren't you lonely?"

This had the effect Mokuba had anticipated. There was a fleeting shadow across Seto's features, but he merely said, "No."

This would not have been bad if Mokuba had let it go. He had a plan. He spread his arms, ready to fly. He was going for the gold medal. "I don't believe you," he said flatly.

"Mokuba," Seto reassured in a kind voice he only used with his brother, "I don't need anyone. I'm far too busy to worry about such trivial matters."

"Nii-sama!" That swan dive had perfect form. "You have never been on a date! You only have one friend! Ano, (7) Yugi and his friends consider you to be their friend - despite how you feel. They would help you if you asked!"

"I don't need help from anyone!" Seto did not yell, but he spoke with such force it would have scared away all with weak constitutions.

However, Mokuba was a Kaiba, too. He was a thirteen-year-old Kaiba - with a plan. "What about me?" he shot back with equal force.

"What about you?"

"Don't you need me?"

"That's entirely different," Seto admitted. These sorts of discussions were becoming so numerous he found himself feeling threatened every time Mokuba approached him without really understanding why. But there was no reason to feel threatened by Mokuba. Seto was calming down. He opened his mouth to pacify his sibling further, but was beaten to the punch. (6)

Mokuba was not deterred by Seto's apparent lack of interest, "What will you do when I move away?"

"What does this have to do with me being nicer?" Seto diverted.

The evasive card, Mokuba thought. Too bad, it leads back to exactly where I was going. "Glad you ask," Mokuba said, cheerfully bouncing in his chair, "because I was thinking that if you had a relationship with someone you'd be more considerate. Thus, you might be a little nicer."

Seto looked for a moment like he was going to explode, but then he smiled. Calmly, he asked, "What exactly do you hope to accomplish here?" Each syllable was laced with bright bulbs spelling out the word warning!

"I just thought, Nii-sama, that if you got laid once in a while you might be happy; and then, you'd be a little nicer."

Mokuba knew instantly that he had gone too far.

If Seto was a volcano, Mokuba knew he would already be dead. The eyes were damn terrifying to behold. Mokuba avoided looking directly into the burning light. Nii-sama was so enraged, his whole body quaked as he stood up.

"Ja ne!" (7) Mokuba squeaked… and ran!

So much for that plan, Mokuba thought as he plopped onto his bed. He had decided to go home once he had reached the lobby of Kaiba Corp. The doorman whistled him a taxicab, and he spent the ride swallowing back tears. By the time he reached the front door of his home, he was renewed with a fresh vigor.

Now, he had Plan B. This new plan required much more thought than Plan A.

Plan B: Run away.

Mokuba got this brilliant idea from reading the back of the book assigned for him to read over summer vacation: "From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler." (2) It was assigned by his English sensei. He supposed it was to improve his English, which was not very good. He had not started it yet. At the time it was assigned, Mokuba, in all his wisdom, figured that it was probably boring. Who would run away to a museum? He had planned on asking Isono to write the report for him. Now, he gave the book a kiss because it showed promise.

Mokuba would have to pack the essentials. He wished he could take his TV and video games with him, but he knew better. He settled for his Nintendo DS lit. (1) Some clothes, a toothbrush and paste, a hairbrush, soap, the book - of course, and the rest of his homework all fit with little room to spare in his duffle bag.

The museum would not do. He would have to go and live with someone - preferably an adult that had a good paying job. He needed someone who could provide him with a place to sleep and lots of food. This also had to be someone Seto would not think of when he surely would go hunting for him.

Mokuba thought for a while. Presently, he came up with no one. To pass the time, he wrote Nii-sama a note explaining that he was running away for the summer holiday and that Seto shouldn't panic but use this time wisely to reconsider what Mokuba had said earlier.

He resumed sitting on the edge of his bed. The duffle bag was stashed underneath. The finished note lay on the desk. The first person Mokuba had thought of was Yugi, having talked of his good virtues earlier. This would not work, nor would any of Yugi's friends, nor any of his own. These would be the first people Nii-sama would suspect. He also did not wish his friends bodily harm. Then, he thought of the girl who sat two seats ahead of him in calligraphy class. Mokuba hated that class. Sensei always put vermilion marks on every paper Mokuba turned in, much to Nii-sama's dismay. But he never missed a class just to watch his beloved's hand move with such grace…

"No. Her parents would surely turn me in," Mokuba said aloud. He glanced around the unresponsive room, desperate for inspiration. A butterfly net he had not used in eight years lay upon the desk. Mokuba had found it while rummaging through his closet. It made him think of Insector Haga. No. That would drive him nuts; and Haga would surely turn the situation to his advantage. He glanced at his clock, but the only thing it told him was the time. He looked at the wall… nothing. The door, the window, assorted framed pictures, toy box… Toy box? Mokuba studied the toy chest. The first person it reminded him of was Pegasus. Mokuba had no intention of staying with a former enemy, and Pegasus still turned his goosebumps white!

There was also Amelda. Mokuba did not consider Amelda an enemy. He was not sure if Seto still did or if he would think to look for him at Amelda's place. Mokuba remembered the redhead with great detail. He thought of the love that was in Amelda's eyes when he handed Mokuba the Dynadude action figure. Yes. Amelda will do.

There is just one problem, Mokuba thought. Does Amelda live in Japan?

Time for Plan B, part two.

Seto arrived home. His back ached. His head throbbed. His throat was parched from all of the yelling. Several unfortunate employees had happened upon the young CEO within half an hour after Mokuba had departed. Needless to say, they are currently searching the Want-Ads.

It looked as though Mokuba had left out a cup of tea for him. This cheered him up. He drank it in three gulps. Almost instantly, the pain receded.

He then proceeded up the elaborate staircase to his younger brother's room. Opening the door slowly, observing the dark room and the glowing alarm clock, which read 22:17, Seto crept in quietly. He failed to notice the note.

Seto walked noiselessly to Mokuba's bed. The lumpy shape was fast asleep. Seto leaned over, relieved to see the peaceful expression upon his brother's face. Seto exhaled the tension he withheld. He had been worried that he might have over-reacted earlier, and that Mokuba's feelings were hurt. Seto carefully brushed a strand of hair out of the way and kissed him on the forehead. Smiling to himself, he left the room just as silently. Seto felt like an automaton as he brushed his teeth and mindlessly undressed - not caring to put the clothes in the hamper. When his head hit the cool pillow, instant darkness pressed upon his brain.

Seto woke up at 14:36 the next day, bewildered as to why he slept in so late. Ugh, he groggily thought. The phone beside his clock blinked 17, indicating the number of messages there were. He had no doubts that they were employees diligently inquiring of his whereabouts. Where's my cell? He searched the clothes he left the night before lying on the floor, picking them up and putting them away as he went along. He hated leaving a mess. Atta! (7)he thought, digging it out of a side-pocket of his slacks. Nineteen messages? I don't have time for this! Wondering if perhaps Mokuba slept in, too, he went to his brother's room. There, in the broad daylight, did he see the note.