Prompt #56 - Cyber
Mokuba minimized the same window on his computer for the fourth time that day. He wasn't getting any work done at all. Old friends kept messaging him. He should have simply closed the whole browser, but there were a few people whose numbers he still needed, and addresses, and...
Thing was, he'd fallen into Yami (almost literally) nearly as soon as he'd gotten back home from school. He was barely set up for working at KaibaCorp and none of his Americans knew where he was or what he was doing. Or who. Most of them wanted to know whether he'd arrived safely and if they could chat regularly online. It felt strange to Mokuba, like he'd visited some fantasy world and was suddenly home again. New York and Domino felt very different, even if they shared a lot of similarities. Suddenly, he was a full adult rather than a student (and there was a difference, he felt), handling all these decisions and responsibilities and there had been no buffer. If it weren't for being used to his brother's sink or swim attitude, he might have felt lost.
But being in contact with old friends again brought all of the baggage with it. Mokuba had shared a lot of first experiences with those people. Not all of them were good, and even with them so far away, some of the sting could still be felt.
Coincidentally, he'd felt similarly when he had left Domino years ago: it was hard to get away from the events of that summer so long ago. He remembered the way Seto had struggled with Yami's return, with the proof of being wrong. Even after everything had passed there was no escaping what had happened. They were the only ones who knew and Mokuba being on the sidelines - not important - had made things worse. By the time he was leaving for college he was glad to be on his own, to not have to live in the shadow of people who had been there and supported so much - who still had things to give, at least to Yami, who was freshly returned from the afterlife.
Never would have thought that, years later, they'd be involved the way they were. Then again, he'd never thought he'd have admitted his crush on Anzu either - but age and alcohol changed a lot of things.
The grass is greener on the other side. Mokuba felt it more than he ever had before. His two worlds were kind of colliding, now. Yuugi and his friends had accepted him with open arms the same way they always had. He was the problem, obviously. There was no reason to always feel down about his contributions and, after making new friends to try to run away from the old ones he was back where he'd started. His life was back what semblance of normalcy he'd had before, just like that - and now his American friends was struggling to get a hold of him.
There was something inescapable of having been touched by the magic of the Millennium Items, even for someone on the very edges like Mokuba. He could never talk to any of the people he knew from college about what he'd witnessed and what had happened. No one would believe him; it sounded crazy. But no matter how ridiculous things had gotten, when he was even just in the same room as Yuugi or Yami or Jounouchi, Anzu or Honda or Otogi or even Mai - they all knew. There was something there, a silent acknowledgment. Shared pain and struggling even in coping all these years later. If Mokuba were ever in any serious trouble he would trust his life to any of them and that could not be said for anyone else aside from his brother.
It was a bond that couldn't be replicated and, after talking with Yami, was the feeling that had led him to be empathetic about whatever issues there were with Yuugi. Mokuba literally couldn't imagine what everything had been like for the two of them.
And yet, those connections were at odds with others. Mokuba first kiss, his first time being piss-drunk, his first time having sex (with either a man or a woman) - these were also times where, in actuality he'd put aspects of his life in the hands of others. It wasn't the same, but it was comparable, even they were 'normal' and he could discuss them. Not that he would. It would be more than awkward to explain the chain of disastrous relationships he'd had out of the country. He didn't want to erase unpleasant times, of course - he wouldn't have been the person he was without them. But going without bothering talking to other people about them was perfectly acceptable to him. Mokuba had secrets on both sides, and he was okay with that.
A ping from his computer turned out to a reminder of one such mistake.
He'd briefly mentioned Andrea at the party, though he'd cleaned the story up a bit to make it less dramatic. When it came to chatting him up, she was the worst. Once she knew that he was back safe and sound at home, and that he could be online at work, she began pestering him. It was almost annoying simply to speak with her - almost all she did was flirt. And while she had been Mokuba's first in quite a few ways, he felt mocked.
They weren't involved anymore and hadn't been even when he'd left. But now that there was an ocean and three-quarters of a country between them it seemed that Andrea had no qualms about her behavior. Pictures, voice messages, texts; he didn't want to deal with it, frankly. He had thought that it would be fine, at first - he had loved her, even if she hadn't felt the same way, and a little attention was good enough. But that was all she ever did. She wasn't interested in talking about anything else or them keeping up with each other seriously. He was a play thing, something for her amusement, and that was clearer now more than ever. She didn't have to put on airs when there was zero chance of them seeing each other, no friends to impress or look good in front of.
Hey sweet thing, her message, in bright red text, read on his screen. I'm free tonight. Wanna video chat?
Bullshit, he thought. Mokuba pushed his laptop closed as hard as he would allow. It didn't take him long to gather his things. If he wasn't going to work, he might as well spend some time thinking at home.
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I'm trying to get back into the drabble mode--I know that a lot of my pieces for this table have been long.
Thing was, he'd fallen into Yami (almost literally) nearly as soon as he'd gotten back home from school. He was barely set up for working at KaibaCorp and none of his Americans knew where he was or what he was doing. Or who. Most of them wanted to know whether he'd arrived safely and if they could chat regularly online. It felt strange to Mokuba, like he'd visited some fantasy world and was suddenly home again. New York and Domino felt very different, even if they shared a lot of similarities. Suddenly, he was a full adult rather than a student (and there was a difference, he felt), handling all these decisions and responsibilities and there had been no buffer. If it weren't for being used to his brother's sink or swim attitude, he might have felt lost.
But being in contact with old friends again brought all of the baggage with it. Mokuba had shared a lot of first experiences with those people. Not all of them were good, and even with them so far away, some of the sting could still be felt.
Coincidentally, he'd felt similarly when he had left Domino years ago: it was hard to get away from the events of that summer so long ago. He remembered the way Seto had struggled with Yami's return, with the proof of being wrong. Even after everything had passed there was no escaping what had happened. They were the only ones who knew and Mokuba being on the sidelines - not important - had made things worse. By the time he was leaving for college he was glad to be on his own, to not have to live in the shadow of people who had been there and supported so much - who still had things to give, at least to Yami, who was freshly returned from the afterlife.
Never would have thought that, years later, they'd be involved the way they were. Then again, he'd never thought he'd have admitted his crush on Anzu either - but age and alcohol changed a lot of things.
The grass is greener on the other side. Mokuba felt it more than he ever had before. His two worlds were kind of colliding, now. Yuugi and his friends had accepted him with open arms the same way they always had. He was the problem, obviously. There was no reason to always feel down about his contributions and, after making new friends to try to run away from the old ones he was back where he'd started. His life was back what semblance of normalcy he'd had before, just like that - and now his American friends was struggling to get a hold of him.
There was something inescapable of having been touched by the magic of the Millennium Items, even for someone on the very edges like Mokuba. He could never talk to any of the people he knew from college about what he'd witnessed and what had happened. No one would believe him; it sounded crazy. But no matter how ridiculous things had gotten, when he was even just in the same room as Yuugi or Yami or Jounouchi, Anzu or Honda or Otogi or even Mai - they all knew. There was something there, a silent acknowledgment. Shared pain and struggling even in coping all these years later. If Mokuba were ever in any serious trouble he would trust his life to any of them and that could not be said for anyone else aside from his brother.
It was a bond that couldn't be replicated and, after talking with Yami, was the feeling that had led him to be empathetic about whatever issues there were with Yuugi. Mokuba literally couldn't imagine what everything had been like for the two of them.
And yet, those connections were at odds with others. Mokuba first kiss, his first time being piss-drunk, his first time having sex (with either a man or a woman) - these were also times where, in actuality he'd put aspects of his life in the hands of others. It wasn't the same, but it was comparable, even they were 'normal' and he could discuss them. Not that he would. It would be more than awkward to explain the chain of disastrous relationships he'd had out of the country. He didn't want to erase unpleasant times, of course - he wouldn't have been the person he was without them. But going without bothering talking to other people about them was perfectly acceptable to him. Mokuba had secrets on both sides, and he was okay with that.
A ping from his computer turned out to a reminder of one such mistake.
He'd briefly mentioned Andrea at the party, though he'd cleaned the story up a bit to make it less dramatic. When it came to chatting him up, she was the worst. Once she knew that he was back safe and sound at home, and that he could be online at work, she began pestering him. It was almost annoying simply to speak with her - almost all she did was flirt. And while she had been Mokuba's first in quite a few ways, he felt mocked.
They weren't involved anymore and hadn't been even when he'd left. But now that there was an ocean and three-quarters of a country between them it seemed that Andrea had no qualms about her behavior. Pictures, voice messages, texts; he didn't want to deal with it, frankly. He had thought that it would be fine, at first - he had loved her, even if she hadn't felt the same way, and a little attention was good enough. But that was all she ever did. She wasn't interested in talking about anything else or them keeping up with each other seriously. He was a play thing, something for her amusement, and that was clearer now more than ever. She didn't have to put on airs when there was zero chance of them seeing each other, no friends to impress or look good in front of.
Hey sweet thing, her message, in bright red text, read on his screen. I'm free tonight. Wanna video chat?
Bullshit, he thought. Mokuba pushed his laptop closed as hard as he would allow. It didn't take him long to gather his things. If he wasn't going to work, he might as well spend some time thinking at home.
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I'm trying to get back into the drabble mode--I know that a lot of my pieces for this table have been long.