Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Innocent ❯ Innocent ( One-Shot )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: wknightmare 
Seto realizes that Mokuba is growing up.
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.09.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 615 | Status: Completed
Seto realizes that Mokuba is growing up.
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.09.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.2K | Visits: 615 | Status: Completed
Title: Innocent?
Author: Kris Ice
Disclaimer: I don’t own Yugioh or anything related to that anime.
Summary: Seto realizes that Mokuba is growing up. Betas: DS Some times, I wonder which moron decided that high school students had to write poetry in literature. This person needs to be found and shot. No, this person needs to be dropped into a vat of boiling oil. I’m sitting at my desk, tapping a blank piece of paper. I’ve been sitting here for over three hours and nothing has come to mind. Someone once said that my mind worked like a computer and that I could never enjoy the artistic nature of free form poetry. I’m starting to believe them. Shaking my head, I get up and walk to the living room, hoping some time with Mokuba would inspire something. I relaxed into an overstuffed chair; my tension flowed out from me, leaving my mind blank. I watch him in silence, wondering what’s going on in his thoughts. I know I didn’t make any noise, but suddenly he looked up. He smiled at me, his face alight with happiness. He gets up, giving me a brief a hug before going to the kitchen to grab a snack. I revel in the brief touch. He’s the only one who ever tries to reach out to me. Slowly, my pen starts moving over the paper, my feelings for the one joy in my life. Finally, I knew what I wanted to say. The moron who decided that students had to read their poems in class should join the one who makes them learn poetry in the vat of boiling oil. After enduring over half an hour of some of the worst drivel, my turn comes. As I stand, I keep my eyes on my paper, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t baring part of my soul to a group of people I would never associate with outside this room. “My poem is called ‘Innocent?’.” I take a deep breath, and begin. “I see him sitting there / All innocence and light / But in his eyes I sometimes see / A devil’s delight. I welcome his touch / He’s the only one who truly tries / To see the truth of my heart / Through my wall of lies. The steel around my heart / Turns to clouds at his touch / I will never turn away / I love him too much. I hold him close / And stifle him with my love / But I know I can’t hold him forever / One day, he will find another to warm his heart.” In the stunned silence, I sit back down, cold exterior back into place. At home, I put the poem between two books in the library, where hopefully I will never have to see it again. I couldn’t bring myself to destroy it, but at least I won’t have to face it. --------------------------------------------------- Somet hing’s wrong with Seto. I don’t know what yet, but I’m not going to rest until I can find out. He’s been quiet, and I’ve found him watching me more often. I don’t recognize the expression on his face and that worries me. He’s being stubborn and not talking to me, but there are other ways to find out what’s going on. I saw him go in the library with a piece of paper and come out without it. I know that he’s got notes stashed between books all over the room. I found the first few by accident, and many others when I started searching. I know that I’ve probably missed a few, but this one I feel I need to find. I check the history section first. Nii-sama has always loved history. There, between two of his favorite books, I spot a bit of paper hanging out. Curious, I pull it out and unfold it. This note is new, so it has to be the one he just put in here. I blink in surprise at my first look at it. I didn’t know my brother could write poetry. As I read, a lump grows in my throat. He was writing about me. I refold the poem and put it back before sitting down on a sofa. I could almost hear the aching loneliness in his tone, the fear of being alone. I lean back, biting my lip, mind working on what I could do for Seto. I knew I’d never leave him, but I wasn’t sure how to go about reassuring him about that fact. I glanced around the room and stood, walking over to brush my fingers over some of the titles in a small poetry section. Perhaps some research was in order. A few hours later, I slipped into Seto’s room, leaving a folded piece of paper where I knew he’d find it when he finally went to bed. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I would have given anything for a glimpse in the future to know how he will react to this. -------------------------------------- Confusion is the first thing I feel when I spy a folded paper laying on my pillow. I know I didn’t leave it there. As I walk closer, I smiled at Mokuba’s familiar scrawl. When we were kids, we used to leave small notes like this to cheer each other up. I sat down and unfolded the note, wondering what this one would say. I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to fight back the tears burning in the back of my eyes. The note was short, but it proved once again that my little imp was far more aware of the world around him than I gave him credit for. I refolded it and placed it on my desk on my way out. When I walked into Mokuba’s room, he was sprawled across his bed, his covers mostly off the bed along with one dangling leg. I smiled again and gently but him back in the bed before covering him up. I brushed his bangs away from his face, and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, little brother. I love you.” As I pull away, he sleepily murmurs, “I love you, too.” I smiled and left, returning to my room. I picked up Mokuba’s note and sat on the edge of my bed as I read it again. “A heart is not a shack / It does not have one room / A heart has many, each holding love for someone new. This mansion never stops growing / More rooms are added all the time / But don’t worry, nii-sama / You will always have a special place in mine.”
Author: Kris Ice
Disclaimer: I don’t own Yugioh or anything related to that anime.
Summary: Seto realizes that Mokuba is growing up. Betas: DS Some times, I wonder which moron decided that high school students had to write poetry in literature. This person needs to be found and shot. No, this person needs to be dropped into a vat of boiling oil. I’m sitting at my desk, tapping a blank piece of paper. I’ve been sitting here for over three hours and nothing has come to mind. Someone once said that my mind worked like a computer and that I could never enjoy the artistic nature of free form poetry. I’m starting to believe them. Shaking my head, I get up and walk to the living room, hoping some time with Mokuba would inspire something. I relaxed into an overstuffed chair; my tension flowed out from me, leaving my mind blank. I watch him in silence, wondering what’s going on in his thoughts. I know I didn’t make any noise, but suddenly he looked up. He smiled at me, his face alight with happiness. He gets up, giving me a brief a hug before going to the kitchen to grab a snack. I revel in the brief touch. He’s the only one who ever tries to reach out to me. Slowly, my pen starts moving over the paper, my feelings for the one joy in my life. Finally, I knew what I wanted to say. The moron who decided that students had to read their poems in class should join the one who makes them learn poetry in the vat of boiling oil. After enduring over half an hour of some of the worst drivel, my turn comes. As I stand, I keep my eyes on my paper, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t baring part of my soul to a group of people I would never associate with outside this room. “My poem is called ‘Innocent?’.” I take a deep breath, and begin. “I see him sitting there / All innocence and light / But in his eyes I sometimes see / A devil’s delight. I welcome his touch / He’s the only one who truly tries / To see the truth of my heart / Through my wall of lies. The steel around my heart / Turns to clouds at his touch / I will never turn away / I love him too much. I hold him close / And stifle him with my love / But I know I can’t hold him forever / One day, he will find another to warm his heart.” In the stunned silence, I sit back down, cold exterior back into place. At home, I put the poem between two books in the library, where hopefully I will never have to see it again. I couldn’t bring myself to destroy it, but at least I won’t have to face it. --------------------------------------------------- Somet hing’s wrong with Seto. I don’t know what yet, but I’m not going to rest until I can find out. He’s been quiet, and I’ve found him watching me more often. I don’t recognize the expression on his face and that worries me. He’s being stubborn and not talking to me, but there are other ways to find out what’s going on. I saw him go in the library with a piece of paper and come out without it. I know that he’s got notes stashed between books all over the room. I found the first few by accident, and many others when I started searching. I know that I’ve probably missed a few, but this one I feel I need to find. I check the history section first. Nii-sama has always loved history. There, between two of his favorite books, I spot a bit of paper hanging out. Curious, I pull it out and unfold it. This note is new, so it has to be the one he just put in here. I blink in surprise at my first look at it. I didn’t know my brother could write poetry. As I read, a lump grows in my throat. He was writing about me. I refold the poem and put it back before sitting down on a sofa. I could almost hear the aching loneliness in his tone, the fear of being alone. I lean back, biting my lip, mind working on what I could do for Seto. I knew I’d never leave him, but I wasn’t sure how to go about reassuring him about that fact. I glanced around the room and stood, walking over to brush my fingers over some of the titles in a small poetry section. Perhaps some research was in order. A few hours later, I slipped into Seto’s room, leaving a folded piece of paper where I knew he’d find it when he finally went to bed. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I would have given anything for a glimpse in the future to know how he will react to this. -------------------------------------- Confusion is the first thing I feel when I spy a folded paper laying on my pillow. I know I didn’t leave it there. As I walk closer, I smiled at Mokuba’s familiar scrawl. When we were kids, we used to leave small notes like this to cheer each other up. I sat down and unfolded the note, wondering what this one would say. I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to fight back the tears burning in the back of my eyes. The note was short, but it proved once again that my little imp was far more aware of the world around him than I gave him credit for. I refolded it and placed it on my desk on my way out. When I walked into Mokuba’s room, he was sprawled across his bed, his covers mostly off the bed along with one dangling leg. I smiled again and gently but him back in the bed before covering him up. I brushed his bangs away from his face, and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, little brother. I love you.” As I pull away, he sleepily murmurs, “I love you, too.” I smiled and left, returning to my room. I picked up Mokuba’s note and sat on the edge of my bed as I read it again. “A heart is not a shack / It does not have one room / A heart has many, each holding love for someone new. This mansion never stops growing / More rooms are added all the time / But don’t worry, nii-sama / You will always have a special place in mine.”