stupid, stupid, stupid
Alright.
I'm feeling uninspired. I hate feeling uninspired.
I know that I don't REALLY feel as bad as I think I do, and it's just the stupid depression emerging from that hidden place in my stupid heart, but when all I can think about is how much everyone hates me, how sucky the state of the world is, how I'll never find happiness... It's hard to remember that it's just some fucking chemicals in the brain. Curse you, my brain.
On the semi-/somewhat bright side, I have a little for "ICOE". I've been so busy with doing nothing that I haven't had much time to work. Gah, I really hate myself now. *fume* It'll go away; it always goes away...
ANYWAY! Here's what little I have. Right.
There was a knock at the door.
Rather annoyed at being interrupted, Seto looked up from his computer. A nervous, ratty looking middle-aged man with balding hair looked up at him from the doorway. “M-mr. Kaiba, sir... Your n-new secretary is here. Sh... she’s ready to get right to w-work, sir. Shall I... introduce her?”
Seto rolled his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. (He desperately needed that secretary.)
The man stepped out of the way, and a young woman only a year or so older than Seto was stepped into the spacious office. “Hello, Mr. Kaiba,” she said. “My name is Sakura.” She smiled. “Sakura Kudo.”
Seto waved the introduction away. “I’m going to assume you already know who I am.” He handed her a stack of papers. “There’s a desk in the foyer of the office- get to work.”
She smiled at him again. “With pleasure.”
Sakura was a far cry from the plain, bun-sporting, tweed-wearing, single, cat-owning, plant-befriending breed that Seto’s secretaries usually belonged to. She was, to put it simply, gorgeous. She knew it, as well, and used it to her utmost advantage. Even as she had entered KaibaCorp that morning, she had felt hundreds of eyes in all the male heads fixed on her. Her well-tailored red suit, designer heels and smooth, snowy complexion had done exactly as she had anticipated. She had long, hair dark as midnight- mysterious eyes, full lips, and a body to die for. She was attractive; she knew it. She attention was what she lived for.
So why then did the equally attractive man that was her boss take no notice?
Seto, as was so characteristically Seto, spared her barely a second glance. He noticed that she looked efficient and intelligent- anything else didn’t even register in his pretty little head. There had been a brief period in his life when he had been ruled by hormones, but between dueling and CEO-ing, that hadn’t lasted long. He had Anzu; and even with his noted reputation for overkill, he saw no need to introduce another woman into the equation. Anzu was quite suitable.
Sakura sat down at her new, clear desk. She was rather put-out, having expected to make at least some impression on him. Checking her appearance in a small compact, she gracefully crossed her ankles under her chair and straightened a button on her jacket.
She snapped the compact closed. Flawless- just as she’d expected. She flipped through the stack of papers she had been given; it looked like nothing more complicated than filing and some signing. Though she wasn’t at all against using her looks to get what she wanted (which at that point was money- either through a better position in the company or marriage to a wealthy businessman), she had brains as well.
The phone at her desk rang. She looked at it bemusedly.
“I’d answer that if I were you, Kudo,” a cold voice called from the inner office.
She smirked, her eyes darting over towards his direction, and picked up the phone. “Hello-- Seto Kaiba’s office. How may I help you?”
Already a plan was forming in her mind. He hadn’t noticed her then- but before the week was through he’d be panting and sweating like an oversexed, hormonal frat boy. She’d make sure of it.
(Line)
At the same time Seto was unwittingly becoming the object of some large interest, Mokuba Kaiba was sitting in a café across town enjoying a triple mocha latté. He was actually scheduled for World History, but what Seto didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. The cute waitress was flirting with him, the day was lovely and warm, the book about the current state of economic affairs was tightly shut and lying motionless on the table- and a calming sense of complacency had settled over the young man.
He made it a point to avoid skipping class- due mostly to Seto’s inevitable ire- but some days he couldn’t take the monotony. He didn’t mean to make Seto angry, and he did feel a sizeable surge of guilt for going against one of his brother’s only demands. Mokuba was allowed to do very nearly whatever he liked. Seto might offer suggestions, or express his approval once in a while, but Mokuba was, for the most part, free to make his wise choices and mistakes as he wished.
Except for school. Seto was adamant about school.
Mokuba knew it, but occasionally he chose to ignore that. He knew that education was important- but honestly he would rather gain knowledge on his own terms, at his own pace. He was nearly as brilliant as Seto was- making up for what little he lacked in brains with his impeccable social skills. (Seto’s social skills were absolutely egregious.) It might have seemed, to an outsider, to be an insignificant point, but Mokuba knew how much it mattered to his brother. For the longest time, Seto did not go to school. Seto had books and tutors. Seto had been chained to a desk and forced to study. Mokuba still had nightmares sometimes, about Gozaburo coming back- he had never forgotten the impact their adoptive father had had on Seto. He valued his independence and his utter disregard for the opinions and actions of others, but Mokuba could see just how much Gozaburo Kaiba had shaped his brother.
So Seto had sent Mokuba to normal school and planned to keep him there until the educational process was completed. That was fine; as stated, Mokuba rarely complained. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.
Mokuba sighed, the weight of his rather unhappy reminiscing beginning to be heavier than could maintain his pleasant mood. He held his empty cup in his hand, half-considering going for another. And in fact, he had just glanced to the counter when he felt a tap at his shoulder.
“Hey,” a rather unfamiliar young woman said. She had been the waitress. “Mind if I join you? You looked kind of lonely.”
He grinned at her broadly, gesturing across the table. “Why, I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”
Since he met Rebecca- who he hadn’t seen again- he hadn’t been nearly as active on the dating scene as he had been previously. No girl had rejected him before, even slightly- he found that he didn’t particularly like the feeling.
So... Spectacular, right? *sigh* I don't know. I feel so inadequate. I know no one's reading this. I'm such a loser. I only hope I can really WRITE again soon. *bigger sigh* I'm going to go... do something. Probably read. Or not sleep. That apparently comes and goes, too-- I was doing nothing but sleeping and now I just don't want to sleep at all. I know this is supposed to be only for fics, but...
Ahh well. Ignore everything else but what's in the cut. Farewell.
ILB
I'm feeling uninspired. I hate feeling uninspired.
I know that I don't REALLY feel as bad as I think I do, and it's just the stupid depression emerging from that hidden place in my stupid heart, but when all I can think about is how much everyone hates me, how sucky the state of the world is, how I'll never find happiness... It's hard to remember that it's just some fucking chemicals in the brain. Curse you, my brain.
On the semi-/somewhat bright side, I have a little for "ICOE". I've been so busy with doing nothing that I haven't had much time to work. Gah, I really hate myself now. *fume* It'll go away; it always goes away...
ANYWAY! Here's what little I have. Right.
There was a knock at the door.
Rather annoyed at being interrupted, Seto looked up from his computer. A nervous, ratty looking middle-aged man with balding hair looked up at him from the doorway. “M-mr. Kaiba, sir... Your n-new secretary is here. Sh... she’s ready to get right to w-work, sir. Shall I... introduce her?”
Seto rolled his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. (He desperately needed that secretary.)
The man stepped out of the way, and a young woman only a year or so older than Seto was stepped into the spacious office. “Hello, Mr. Kaiba,” she said. “My name is Sakura.” She smiled. “Sakura Kudo.”
Seto waved the introduction away. “I’m going to assume you already know who I am.” He handed her a stack of papers. “There’s a desk in the foyer of the office- get to work.”
She smiled at him again. “With pleasure.”
Sakura was a far cry from the plain, bun-sporting, tweed-wearing, single, cat-owning, plant-befriending breed that Seto’s secretaries usually belonged to. She was, to put it simply, gorgeous. She knew it, as well, and used it to her utmost advantage. Even as she had entered KaibaCorp that morning, she had felt hundreds of eyes in all the male heads fixed on her. Her well-tailored red suit, designer heels and smooth, snowy complexion had done exactly as she had anticipated. She had long, hair dark as midnight- mysterious eyes, full lips, and a body to die for. She was attractive; she knew it. She attention was what she lived for.
So why then did the equally attractive man that was her boss take no notice?
Seto, as was so characteristically Seto, spared her barely a second glance. He noticed that she looked efficient and intelligent- anything else didn’t even register in his pretty little head. There had been a brief period in his life when he had been ruled by hormones, but between dueling and CEO-ing, that hadn’t lasted long. He had Anzu; and even with his noted reputation for overkill, he saw no need to introduce another woman into the equation. Anzu was quite suitable.
Sakura sat down at her new, clear desk. She was rather put-out, having expected to make at least some impression on him. Checking her appearance in a small compact, she gracefully crossed her ankles under her chair and straightened a button on her jacket.
She snapped the compact closed. Flawless- just as she’d expected. She flipped through the stack of papers she had been given; it looked like nothing more complicated than filing and some signing. Though she wasn’t at all against using her looks to get what she wanted (which at that point was money- either through a better position in the company or marriage to a wealthy businessman), she had brains as well.
The phone at her desk rang. She looked at it bemusedly.
“I’d answer that if I were you, Kudo,” a cold voice called from the inner office.
She smirked, her eyes darting over towards his direction, and picked up the phone. “Hello-- Seto Kaiba’s office. How may I help you?”
Already a plan was forming in her mind. He hadn’t noticed her then- but before the week was through he’d be panting and sweating like an oversexed, hormonal frat boy. She’d make sure of it.
(Line)
At the same time Seto was unwittingly becoming the object of some large interest, Mokuba Kaiba was sitting in a café across town enjoying a triple mocha latté. He was actually scheduled for World History, but what Seto didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. The cute waitress was flirting with him, the day was lovely and warm, the book about the current state of economic affairs was tightly shut and lying motionless on the table- and a calming sense of complacency had settled over the young man.
He made it a point to avoid skipping class- due mostly to Seto’s inevitable ire- but some days he couldn’t take the monotony. He didn’t mean to make Seto angry, and he did feel a sizeable surge of guilt for going against one of his brother’s only demands. Mokuba was allowed to do very nearly whatever he liked. Seto might offer suggestions, or express his approval once in a while, but Mokuba was, for the most part, free to make his wise choices and mistakes as he wished.
Except for school. Seto was adamant about school.
Mokuba knew it, but occasionally he chose to ignore that. He knew that education was important- but honestly he would rather gain knowledge on his own terms, at his own pace. He was nearly as brilliant as Seto was- making up for what little he lacked in brains with his impeccable social skills. (Seto’s social skills were absolutely egregious.) It might have seemed, to an outsider, to be an insignificant point, but Mokuba knew how much it mattered to his brother. For the longest time, Seto did not go to school. Seto had books and tutors. Seto had been chained to a desk and forced to study. Mokuba still had nightmares sometimes, about Gozaburo coming back- he had never forgotten the impact their adoptive father had had on Seto. He valued his independence and his utter disregard for the opinions and actions of others, but Mokuba could see just how much Gozaburo Kaiba had shaped his brother.
So Seto had sent Mokuba to normal school and planned to keep him there until the educational process was completed. That was fine; as stated, Mokuba rarely complained. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.
Mokuba sighed, the weight of his rather unhappy reminiscing beginning to be heavier than could maintain his pleasant mood. He held his empty cup in his hand, half-considering going for another. And in fact, he had just glanced to the counter when he felt a tap at his shoulder.
“Hey,” a rather unfamiliar young woman said. She had been the waitress. “Mind if I join you? You looked kind of lonely.”
He grinned at her broadly, gesturing across the table. “Why, I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”
Since he met Rebecca- who he hadn’t seen again- he hadn’t been nearly as active on the dating scene as he had been previously. No girl had rejected him before, even slightly- he found that he didn’t particularly like the feeling.
So... Spectacular, right? *sigh* I don't know. I feel so inadequate. I know no one's reading this. I'm such a loser. I only hope I can really WRITE again soon. *bigger sigh* I'm going to go... do something. Probably read. Or not sleep. That apparently comes and goes, too-- I was doing nothing but sleeping and now I just don't want to sleep at all. I know this is supposed to be only for fics, but...
Ahh well. Ignore everything else but what's in the cut. Farewell.
ILB